Disclaimer: I do not own Blakes' 7, Auntie Beeb does.
Rating: G
Summary: Set after "Sand" and written in the first person. Vila tries to write a memorial for Cally.
Notes: I wrote this yonks ago and I was pretty wee at the time, bless. Go easy…
In Memoriam
By NorthernStar
"Who cared about Cally?"
I remember asking that…through the haze of illness and drink. But not much after… Soolin had offered that theory then, about your death, about us all being cursed.
Cursed…
Maybe we are.
But isn't everybody in this life, under this fascist rule?
Funny how I've all but forgotten about that since we lost Blake.
And it's funny how I don't think about him much anymore. Not about what he fought for, what he stood for.
What you stood for.
Until now.
Blake's name was the last word you uttered Cally. I can still hear it echoing in my head sometimes, as if it's been imprinted there. Maybe it has…
And the second to last word? My name…whispered, weak. I still hear that too, sometimes, but not because it's a shadow you left behind. But because I want to remember it. As terrible as it sounds… As terrible as your voice had sounded, that day, so very near death… I like the idea of that. Being one of your last thoughts…
Maybe it means that I meant something…to you... And it took a vast, life-draining Sand to make me realise I want to remember you. I want everyone to remember you.
"Who cared about Cally?"
So that's why I'm here, pen in hand, trying to write something that'll last beyond my memories. Beyond all of our memories, which are so fragile and dependent on life that at any moment death could cost the Universe all knowledge of Cally.
But my minds a blank…much like the paper. I'm not clever with words, or emotions.
Want a lock picked? I'm your man.
Want a sullen and sarcastic joke? Come to me, because that I can do.
Want a memorial? Choose someone else; you deserve better than I can offer.
But there isn't anyone else for you to choose.
Cally, I'm all you got.
And yet the page is still empty. And so is my mind. What did you like? Sunshine, flowers, rain? What made you laugh?
Me, perhaps, but not in a way I want to think of right now.
Not ever…
Who really knew you? The truth is none of us did. For nearly four years we travelled together, fought together and even faced death at each other's side. But the seven of us are not close, not friends, just staying together because we're stronger as a team than as individuals.
We never really took the time to get to know the others. We didn't care to take the time. And we still don't.
And I guess that's it. Your memorial.
You were good. You were a friend. You were the kind of person who makes the kind of person I am want to write you a memorial.
I wish I'd known you better…
~~FIN~~
© T S "NORTHERN STAR" FENN