Major West surprised everyone – even himself – by wanting to be here. He wouldn't matter – no one else could point fingers – and whatever he did would be quickly forgotten, but...
So here he stayed. Or, better said, here he was. He couldn't stay forever, and this plot of dirt and stones could go with them – but for now, here he was.
The man almost hadn't been buried. It would have been easier to leave him to the planet's ravages, and more honourable – in the Major's opinon – to seal him in one of the ice chambers until he could be interred on Earth. But as neither option had been willingly chosen, he'd shouldered a shovel and trudged out to dig the grave. Deeply dug, he lined it with rocks and a blanket – the hard surface wouldn't hurt Smith's back now, but it stood in for the nonexistent coffin – before carefully lowering the Doctor in and filling the hole back up.
It was almost anti-climatic. One moment he was here, in the midst of the usual trouble he always seemed to fin; and then the next... He was gone, and he had taken his trouble with him. A fitting end to their worst omen, some would say; but the Major felt he would have given anything to hear that snarky voice complaining about West's work on the hole and then complaining about his back and delicacy when an attempt was made to press him into service.
A smile stole onto Don's face. Who would have known that the man that got them into this whole mess to begin with, and then nearly every consecutive problem following, would have been so...good? A coward, sure. A weakling, certainly. A sluggard above and beyond all else. And yet...
Don sighed. It would be too quiet.
He wished there was something more he could do for the man – something more he could have done for him. Instead, he was is enemy; and his enemy was not the only person at his grave.
"Oh the pain, the pain... Don't sit there and gawp, young man!"
The Major's head jerked up and he spun around, slumping in either disappointment or relief when he saw the Robot behind him playing the recording.
"Some funeral this is – a robot and the man that hated him."
"You did not hate him, Major West."
He shook his head, looking back to the silent grave. "No, I never really did. But I don't think I knew just how true that was until he was gone..."
The Robot was silent, and the bustle of work around the ship drifted over the air.
"Danger. Danger."
West would have looked around, but he could hear the sadness in the machine's voice and had a feeling that he meant something else. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then abruptly burst out laughing. "He never listened to anyone – unless it was himself. He wouldn't have heard you..."
He suddenly straighted and saluted the grave, turning away sharply with the about face drilled into him through the military.
He couldn't bury the man the way he deserved – but he could give him his own meagre respect.
Farewell, Zachary Smith.
AN: Inspired when I realised that Smith is the eldest crewmember and thus likely to be the first to die. Now, as to his death... It depends. It could be that he died to save all or one of the Robinsons. It could be that he died of natural causes or an accident. But the Robinsons aren't there because either they found out about the saboteur and can't forgive him, or they said goodbye in their own ways on the ship. Honestly? I think the earlier option, but I never liked the Robinsons. 3-14-2015