Work Text:
Caesar Zeppeli is not dead.
He is alive, and he makes his presence known as easily as always. Joseph catches glimpses of him on cool Spring days, when he takes his little girl Holly to the park to bounce around with the other children. Occasionally, bubbles will flit by, blown by carefree tykes, and Caesar waves at him from the distance. Joseph smiles, but says nothing to his comrade.
Caesar Zeppeli appears, frequently, whenever Suzie is cooking. She loves to make warm, homey meals, as she did back at their time on Air Supplena. Pastas, breads, salads, wine. Lisa Lisa's favorite, carrots julienned and cooked lightly in olive oil, garnished with salt and fresh cracked pepper. Joseph's favorite, spaghetti al nero di seppia, a dish rarely made, but one that struck the man into silence every time. The silky, black strands that cling to his fork remind him of earlier days, better days. The silver of his mechanical hand gleams as he holds the utensil, metal against metal, and he sighs.
Caesar Zeppeli is not only alive, but refuses to die, late at night when Suzie and Holly are in bed, and Joseph is still awake, fitfully trying to close his eyes but failing each time. The Italian man screams at Joseph, he hits him, he kicks him, he runs away to dash to his death but he doesn't die, he never dies, instead repeating that loop of screaming and running and screaming and running. He stops before he goes inside the broken-down hotel, and as he turns to meet Joseph's eyes on the balcony, they are filled with a cold hatred. Joseph shivers nightly, despite the attempts to keep him warm.
He stays as Joseph gets older, from changing Holly's diapers, to escorting her to her first school dance, to crying as she walks with him down the aisle to greet a man he didn't know, but who was going to take his daughter for his wife. Caesar reminds him, firmly, that the Italian aspired to have a large family, to not get upset at the things children do, to know that they are their own people, to love them for all their talents and flaws alike. Joseph remembers this when Holly calls, saying she's pregnant, and smiles genuinely as he hears her choke up on the other end with happy, free tears, saying that she wants to be a good parent, an understanding parent. Joseph repeats Caesar's words to her, and she laughs, giddy and knowingly.
Caesar is there to comfort him as tears spill from Joseph's eyes, watching the daughter he helped to raise, whom he loved so dearly, consumed by those terrible, terrible vines--the same vines that now entangled him, the same vines that entangled that monster from a century ago, whose fault it was that this disease was ravaging Holly. Caesar gives a warning: do not act rashly. Do not act hastily. Avenge your family, but don't lose your sense in the process. He knows, from experience, how horrible the results of mindless revenge are.
He is not dead, and he does not die as Joseph's mind weakens along with his body, as he shrinks, ever so slightly, in his old age. Caesar supports him as best he can, though Joseph's cane does a much better job. He is there in the tiny plot of sunflowers behind Joseph's house as he waters them each day, seeing them rise and die with each passing year. Caesar listens intently as Joseph whispers his apologies to no one as he speaks with someone on the phone. He scolds Joseph for his errant ways, he forces Joseph to confront himself and tell the truth to Suzie before he leaves to find a son he never knew he had. He offers Joseph forgiveness anyway, and watches warmly as the boy and his old, aging father get to know each other, and the family grows more.
Caesar Zeppeli is not dead, and Joseph tells this to himself as he goes to bed each night and rises each day.
Caesar Zeppeli is not dead.