NOTE: This story takes place right after “Ties of Blood and Water.”
How could he do that to her? Look into her soul and know exactly what she had been thinking, know exactly what she had been trying to hide from herself, exactly what she was trying to run away from…
She stepped hesitantly into his office, a badge of shame weighing heavily on her heart. She had treated him so badly but her demons had caught up with her; there had been no time for friendships. And yet he had managed to be there, right when she had needed the kick in the ass the most.
“Major,” he noted somewhat cynically — or was it only in her mind?
“Constable,” she acknowledged, using the small bit of conversation to edge farther into the room. “Could I … could I have a moment of your time?”
“Of course.” He watched her every movement just as a good investigator should.
“I’d like to apologize for the way I treated you the other night. I was a little harsh…”
“Considering the strain you were under, it’s understandable. I know how trying fathers can be,” he added almost as an afterthought. Besides he had noticed the bags under her eyes all too clearly, the haunted look she had seemed to carry whenever she stepped from Ghemor’s side — and yet, he didn’t quite know why.
“I wasn’t that old when he died.” The statement seemed to come from nowhere as Kira seemed to pace the length of the small office looking for something to focus on. She finally found herself looking at him as she took a seat; he was so non-passionate, so composed and yet — there was always something comforting about his face, his eyes. “He made the mistake of trying to talk to the Cardassians who burned his garden. And I couldn’t take it, to see him lying there, helpless, the strength being drained from his body each minute. He was afraid, but, in the Occupation, fear killed. I … I tried everything to get away so I wouldn’t have to watch, but he kept calling me back again and again.” She took a deep breath, ignoring the tears welling in her eyes. It was almost a side effect of being awake these days. “Only the last time, I was too busy killing Cardassians. He was dead by the time I got back.” She rose abruptly from her seat, wiping eyes and nose with the back of her hand. Why she was telling him all this was a mystery; she had already “unveiled” this part of her past to Julian.
“Nerys, you need rest.”
Kira waved him off with an errant hand. Always so practical, even after she had born her pagh to him.
“You know, Constable, sometimes I wonder if there’s anything you care about beside this damned job of yours.” The words stung her own tongue as she spat them at him, regret leaving a bitter aftertaste. She was about to apologize when she saw still no mark of emotion on his face, and it only irritated her more. “Well, I guess I have my answer.” Kira turned smartly on her heel to leave…
… and ended up almost running smack dab into Julian.
“Odo, what’s this all abo … Major! I thought I told you to go directly to your quarters to sleep.”
“Look, Julian, I’ve gone longer on less sleep –“
“When you were running high on adrenaline and had a younger body not concerned with recovering from a pregnancy. I’ve already disregarded my better judgment by allowing you down to Bajor, but I knew you wouldn’t rest till you had anyhow. However, now, I am ordering you to go to bed whether you feel like it or not!”
“I suppose this is because you care?” Kira asked Odo sarcastically.
“You could say that.” The expected cynicism was markedly absent from the flat tone. Kira was about to follow up on it but Bashir interrupted.
“Do you want me to give you a hypospray and have you dragged to your quarters?” Bashir threatened.
“All right! I’m going.” She shot Bashir with a look of anger before storming off.
“Thank you, Doctor — She needs her rest,” Odo said, trying to find the PADD he had been working with.
“I’m afraid this may only be the calm before the storm,” Julian commented somewhat dryly.
“Excuse me, Doctor, but that’s not exactly what I’d call calm.”
“For Kira it is. She’s got a lot of things to reconcile herself with. I doubt she’ll sleep tonight despite my insistences.”
“It sounded as if she had reconciled things, especially with burying the Legate where she did,” Odo offered up, concerned about Julian’s worries.
“True, but I think the Major’s more of a puppet to her shadows than she’s willing to admit.” He seemed to move to leave but something stopped him and made him turn back to Odo, piercing him with a common knowledge. “The shadows of the past gain quite a bit of control over our lives a lot of times, and it can be a hard thing to reconcile with yourself.”
Odo nodded, feeling the vestiges of pain, understanding the doctor completely — and almost wishing he didn’t.
And that was why he had found himself, less than half an hour later, outside the door to Kira’s quarters. To be sure he had wanted follow her immediately, but he did not want to have to compete with her temper as well.
He rang the chime. Hopefully he would be lucky and she would let him in.
“Who is it?” The voice came from the far side of the room, ragged from lack of sleep.
“C — Odo,” he amended, biting back the title. He had come as a friend.
There was a slight pause. “Enter.”
Odo stepped cautiously into the room, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. Kira was curled into the windowsill, half her body lighted by the normal hum of the station. It was a bleak picture as the meditation candles dwindled down to the last of their wick. She must have been burning them since she got back from Bajor.
“What do you want, Odo?” The question brought him from his study of her quarters to her. It was a weary voice, characteristic of someone who has volumes to say but is simply too tired to even demonstrate the basic pleasantries.
“Doctor Bashir suggested I come see you. He thinks you still have some things to resolve about all this. And he somehow doubted you would be getting the recommended sleep.”
Kira turned cold, hardened eyes towards her friend. She could barely make him out in the darkness. “Computer, half-lights.” A dim glow suffused the room and Kira quickly moved to clean up the mess she had made.
“I take it you’ve been drinking,” Odo stated rather nonchalantly.
“Not enough to get to drunk,” she rebutted condescendingly. She knew better. “I still have work to do. I only needed enough to — to numb me to all this.”
“You know alcohol won’t do that.” He saw Kira roll her eyes slightly. It was going to take a lot to get through to her. She had put up too many barriers over the years, walls that were holding back the flood, dams that were leaking all too often. “Just like going out and killing Cardassians didn’t either.”
Kira steadied herself. He was trying to rile her up, trying to get her to lash out. But it hadn’t done any good all those years ago, and it wasn’t going to do her any good now. She wasn’t going to capitulate to any terrorist, even if it was herself or her best friend.
“It’s not going to work, Odo. I know what you’re trying to do. I’ve dealt with my demons. I’m fine.”
“Then why did you come to apologize? Face it or not, Major, you needed someone to talk to, just like Ghemor did when he was dying, just like your father did when he was dying. Only you’re not dying, Major, and you can’t let the shadows of your past rule your here and now.” A warning echoed in Odo’s mind to watch his step. The Major was probably not going to welcome criticisms very well.
Kira bit back the acerbic remarks as she saw the truth in his words, the pain in his eyes. “Listen, Odo. I realize you know what you’re saying, and I’d appreciate it at just about any other time, but this is different.”
“Is it?” Odo took a sharp breath, building his resolve to pursue this interrogation, knowing that the only way this would work was if he made it personal, for both of them. “We both let innocent people die, alone, afraid, because we were too afraid of letting the Occupation, the Cardassians take control of our lives.” The words echoed strangely off the walls, sounding so different than when he had voiced them in his mind so many times before.
“That’s not true! That Cardassian outpost needed to be destroyed,” she lashed out, pounding the tone of truth into every word.
“But you didn’t have to be on that charge.”
“Yes, I did! I couldn’t stay there any longer! I had to get away; I couldn’t watch him die!” Kira’s voice cracked under the force of her words. She took refuge in a nearby chair, face flushed. “It was just like any other death I had seen but — then, I realized it wasn’t. He was so strong, Odo.” She chuckled softly. “We were so different. I was so bull-headed, determined to help make a Bajor for Bajorans. He — he just wanted to make sure I had a good life, that everyone would have a good life. He might have even wanted the Cardassians to be happy. I could never understand that. He was so strong, wanting to protect me from everything, wanting to protect his little girl.” Kira took a steadying breath. “And I felt that … maybe if I wasn’t there, he wouldn’t … something would happen and by the time I got back he’d be fine, or … I don’t know,” she whispered.
“Let it come, Nerys. You can’t bury this like — like you buried your father, and walk away.” He added the last quietly, knowing it had to be said for reality to break through her stupor.
“It’s been buried so long, Odo … I don’t know if I have the strength to dig it up again.” A hand rested itself lightly on her temples.
“Nerys, you are one of the strongest people I know. But, you’re not in the Resistance anymore; it’s time to stop fighting.”
Kira turned back to the window, massaging her temples with one hand. “What I need to do now is sleep,” she sighed, letting the bolstering words of a friend wash over her.
“I’m glad to hear you say that,” Odo said, suddenly behind her. The last thing she heard was the hiss of a hypospray as it injected her with a much needed sedative. He caught her slumping body as the drug quickly worked its magic and carried her gently to the bed. Boots and uniform jacket were removed, and Odo contemplated what to do next.
With a small sense of regret, he tenderly rolled Kira’s limp body onto her back, propping her head gently on the pillow. He pulled the covers up over her and paused. The face that had born nothing but strain, anguish and fatigue for far too long, now only registered a serene peacefulness. To Odo, there was something angelic about it as the low lights cast delicate shadows about her. It bore none of the brunt of the day — and then a thought occurred to him.
He moved out of the bedroom and took a seat at the workstation. Soon enough, the face of Julian Bashir popped up on the screen.
“Constable, I hadn’t expected to hear from you so soon! Were you able to get her sedated?” Concern hung heavily on the young doctor’s face.
“Yes, actually it’s why I’m calling you. She’d been drinking a bit by the time I got here and I was wondering if that –“
” — would cause a reaction with the sedative. Hmm, I can see you point. I take it she wasn’t drunk yet?”
“No, not quite.”
“Well, luckily most of the sedatives around nowadays don’t react with alcohol of almost any form, so I wouldn’t worry about it. She might feel a bit groggy when she wakes up, but if she’d been drinking she would have anyhow.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Odo acknowledged with a nod.
“It’s I who should thank you. It would have virtually taken a dart gun and good aim for me to get the sedative into her.” Bashir smiled wanly to indicate it was a joke, but that smile quickly disappeared at the Constable’s intimidating stare. Obviously not many things were funny at the moment. “Yes, well, now I suggest you get some rest yourself, Constable. I know I plan on doing exactly that.” Bashir nodded in thanks once more before the screen went blank.
Rest. Yes, he needed rest. And surely the Major could take care of herself.
(-|-)
She tried desperately to sort through the images running through her head, phrases, facts … it was all such a jumble.
Kiessa Monastery and its 17 monks.
Just outside of Tempasa, said Furel, the voice echoing in her head. How long had he been dead?
So much pain. So much pain — but it had helped her kill, helped drive those damn Cardassians off Bajor. She had hated them so much then, for what they were doing to Bajor, for what they were doing to her friends, her family — and what she was doing in return.
Had Ghemor been a release for her? A way of acknowledging that their two peoples, under the right conditions, could get along? She had put her trust into Ghemor, stuck out her heart in friendship and goodwill. She had come to see past all the stereotypes, all her hatred to come and think of him as a father. She had sought to reach past the pain, to put an end to the fighting still going on in parts of her mind. And then he had lied to her.
Seems to be a theme around here lately, Kira thought deep in her stupor. But then, neither of them had lied to her — just refrained from telling her all the details. What was it Odo had said, something about the shadows of the past? Had they been puppets as well? No, she had cut those strings long ago; it had been less painful than being continually tied to the past.
Unfortunately she was now tied to a week off-duty per Julian’s orders. She didn’t understand it; she had gone longer without as much as the little sleep she had gotten during the whole ordeal.
Why could no one seem to understand the fact that she needed her work? There was no way she was just going to sit down and think something through; her nerves were too jangled by years of being hunted down to just sit somewhere doing nothing except thinking.
So why don’t you do something? Off-duty doesn’t mean off completely. You could go aerogliding, or visit the Hoobishan baths on Trill. Which also meant asking Quark for a program for the holosuite, and that was something she was not prepared to do, not with Jadzia on-duty anyway.
Nerys thought she heard the echo of a chime in the back of her mind. Rising from her sleep, she padded heavily into the anterior room, the sedative still lingering around the corners of her mind.
The doors slid open, and Kira blinked. No one was there, but again she heard the chime.
“Kira here,” she answered, stepping back into the room, but the comm system gave no reply. Trying to clear her head a bit more, she walked over to the portal-window and tried to squint away the sleep. And in the reflection of the glass, she saw it even as she heard the chime again: her prayer wheel.
In the half-light that Kira had the room set at, the prayer wheel took on a strange glow, almost as if it were backlit by a faint fire. She sat on the floor, the night robe she had changed into settling with a strange fluidity around her. Would meditation do any good? She had been to the Temple several times in the past few days, and each time she had left still dragging a heavy load. Would this time be different?
Kira crossed her legs for comfort and opened her arms, ready to accept … to accept …
The solitude washed over her as she let the walls inside her pagh fall. It consumed her, suffocated her, and, at the same time, offered some strange comfort. She was alone. Tekeny was dead. Her father was long dead, as was her mother. Furel and Lupaza were gone. Bareil was gone. Anyone she had let herself care about was gone.
But now there was Shakaar, and she had her friends. But even they were separated from her, by some inexplicable force. She saw them all now, watching her from afar, forming a half circle around her. They almost seemed to pity her.
She spun away, closing her eyes, wishing them away. Oh, they understood her, the life she had led, the past that had made her who she was, but was she that person anymore? Had she distanced whom she had become from who she was? Was it their understanding that had kept her from being whom she longed to be?
Something tugged at the inside of her pagh, willing her to some new level. She opened her eyes and found herself faced with golden light. Her head was swimming, she was drowning … floating in a pool of golden light. She felt a fire of anger hidden inside her doused by the light, gently soothing the pain into ashes. The light flowed and ebbed, like some tidal pool, carrying her deeper into itself. She was drowning in light, sinking in illumination, breathing in … breathing in some essence that had never been given a chance to sustain her.
The light shifted, chiming softly as it did, ethereal against her face. Suddenly there was Bajor before her, spinning quietly, peacefully in space. And she was drawn backwards, away from the planet, to DS9, her home now. She watched as they came to join her: her parents, her friends from the Occupation long dead — and some not so long dead, Bareil, they all rushed towards her, arms open. They flew from Bajor, with something halfway between speed and lethargy, and she awaited them. She wanted to reach out as they neared, pull them to her … but then they passed the station. She watched with dejection as the Celestial Temple opened and each entered. She was alone again.
But even after the last of the group entered the Celestial Temple — it remained open. She looked closer, wondering is someone or something would emerge — but there was nothing. And then she looked closer, as far into the Celestial Temple as she could, stared all the way through the other side.
For an instance, she thought she saw a figure standing there at the other end, but then it was gone.
The next moment she felt a hand on her shoulder, and she spun around …
“Kira, are you all right?”
Kira’s eyes drifted up, still leadened with meditation, until she found crystal blue staring back with no small amount of poorly masked worry.
“Odo?” Kira tried to sort through the images still lingering in her mind, setting them into manageable details. “What …”
“You asked me to meet you at 0900 this morning,” Odo stated simply.
Kira was shocked for a moment. Had she really spent the better part of the night in meditation? “I thought I told you Wednesday?”
“It is Wednesday,” Odo said, confusion growing in the back of his mind.
“What are you talking about, Odo? It’s only Tuesday.” Kira blinked as if to right her surroundings.
“I’m afraid not, Major. It is Wednesday.”
Kira blinked again, and slowly stood up, finding to her astonishment that her legs still had all of their circulation. “I’ll… I’ll, ah, be right back.” She stumbled off towards the bathroom, her bladder leading her every step of the way.
Odo stood, rather uncertainly, just looking around the room. Every corner, every nook, until his eyes fell on the prayer wheel. Obviously something had consumed Kira’s attention for the past day, but he found it hard to believe that it could have been without her realization, sitting in front of the prayer wheel.
Odo found his eyes wandering around the room, considering the few knickknacks scattered sparsely around the room. It seemed very … cluttered to him. And yet — there was a sense of order to it, a sense of something familiar. There was a sense of Kira to it and it comforted him. Normally other people’s quarters made him uncomfortable, but there was in an odd way a sense of home to this room because it was hers.
Kira stumbled back into the room, rubbing at her sore muscles even as she glanced at the prayer wheel every few seconds. She finally took a seat on the couch, sitting so she could face the window if she chose.
“So, Odo, um, what did I want to talk to you about?” Kira asked herself, her mind still reeling. Could she truly have lost an entire day?
“Could it have something to do with the First Minister’s upcoming speech on the station?” Odo offered.
“Yes, that’s it,” Kira said, shaking a finger of acknowledgment at Odo. “At least, I think that was it. To tell you the truth, I’m still rather thrown by my lost day — a day off, too. Oh well, maybe …” Kira turned her head to talk to Odo and stopped. He stood near the middle of the room, the soft illumination backlighting him as he stood. It made him almost golden.
“Odo,” Kira started, rising from the couch, “I’m so lucky to have you as a friend.” The words spurted awkwardly from her lips as she walked towards him. She gently took his hand, blind to the startled look buried in his eyes. She had lost so many friends, so many…
Odo gingerly placed his arms around the stolid figure that had practically collapsed into him. He knew she would not cry, but there was a cleansing being performed just the same.
“I’m lucky, too … Nerys.” Odo looked down at the angelic face that now slept peacefully. With a gentle mark of fluidity, he picked Kira up and put her to bed, knowing tomorrow would be just another day, and even that would be a wonderful thing.
(-|-)