So I'm back, and I've actually had this story in the works since the night Sea Patrol finished. After that epilogue I went out with my friends to watch the final Harry Potter film, and while I was waiting I scribbled the start of the story on the back of the printout. So... it's old. And I've been umming and ahing about posting but I think the Sea Patrol fandom needs some love, and seeing all of you dedicated soldiers still posting inspired me to have a crack at finishing. So... this is the prologue to The Loose Ends Will Make Knots. I own all the stuff you've never seen before.
The Loose Ends Will Make Knots
{Prologue}
Kate McGregor always had bad airport karma.
Years ago, when she was an adventurous teen fresh out of high school and traveling, she seemed to have the worst luck with flying. She never quite knew what she had done to deserve it, but she was always being shuffled around, her flights delayed or cancelled due to bad weather or congestion or the million other problems that seemed to affect her and her alone during those two months.
On one occasion that bad luck or karma or whatever you wanted to call it caused her to miss her connecting flight altogether and spend Christmas morning huddled uncomfortably on the hard plastic seats in Heathrow Airport while the rest of the world celebrated.
Admittedly, the breakfast of Smarties and Pringles had been interesting, as had the cute guy she'd shared them with sitting next to her, but by that point she had spent more time in airports than actually traveling, and she'd decided to cut her losses and return to Australia.
At least this time we made it on the plane, she muses, having panicked the entire trip that now would be the one and only time Cairns airport would be snowed in, or a Tsunami would hit or something like that. But aside from her dog tags setting off the metal detectors (in her panic she'd forgotten to remove them) the trip so far had been relatively uneventful.
She sits in silence, head leaning uncomfortably against the window, and counts down the minutes until they reach solid land again. She tries to distract herself by staring out the window at the puffy white clouds, drawing on her knowledge from her environmental science days with Mr Spalding to identify the different types. But they are barely out of Cairns when the clouds turn grey and coat the world in nothingness.
If she were any good at writing she'd see the grey clouds as symbolism. As some sort of metaphor for her heart and her soul. Darker and darker with each crash posting, each new assignment. She's so damn sick of words like unavoidable and emergency. So angry with him and the Navy and boats and everything. Until it sucks the colour out of her grey soul. Until it consumes her, day by day, bit by bit. Until she's so angry with everyone in her life that almost nothing else mattered. Until she leaves.
Beside her, Annabel snuffles slightly in her sleep, and her hand flops from the armrest into her lap. Kate stares at it for a while, her eyes focussing on the tiny fingernails lovingly painted pink. She admires the dainty wrist, the charm bracelet that sits there. He'd bought her that charm bracelet, had placed it upon the tiny wrist himself, and Belle had never taken it off since.
Kate's stomach flips. Please send me a sign. Her hand moves to smooth down Scott's soft hair. Please tell me I'm doing the right thing.
But she knows she can't kid herself anymore. There is no right decision. Either way, someone she loves gets hurt. Either way, someone cries. Someone loses something. This way, the decision, the pain and the burden are all hers. Because otherwise, it will be her children making the same choice. And she could never subject them to this pain.