(TM) 148. Sleepless Nights
What keeps you up at night?
It's not so much what, as who.
You can lower the raised eyebrows. I'm not talking about sex. Wish I was.
Faces are what keep me up at night right now, the faces of those I love ... those I abandoned on New Caprica.
Four months later, we've been reunited, but the divide is still there. I can see it.
Saul's face haunts me the most because he's the most obviously wounded, body and soul. He's suffered everything in the name of the resistance: detention, torture, loss of his eye, turning kids into suicide bombers, whatever it was that happened to Ellen. Every wound, both Cylon-caused and self-inflicted, left scars that he displays like badges of honor. I'd never deny him the honor he deserves, but in clinging to the scars, he clings to the pain. Our friendship, shared experience and understanding always let me reach Saul before, no matter how self-destructive he got. But I wasn't there to share this experience, and my friendship hasn't been enough to bridge the gap.
Kara's face has also changed, though not so dramatically. Her eyes have always reflected her spirit, and right now they're angry, closed-off, choked with rage. Unlike Saul, she refuses to discuss her time in Cylon detention with anyone, not even her husband. Sam suspects everything connects to the child she rescued and the Leoben model she knifed in the process. It rings true, though my gut twists at the thought of that Cylon bastard's fixation and what he may have done to my girl. Samuel Anders and I have our own issues, but we both care deeply about Kara, and we're both equally at a loss for how to reach her. We lost her twice before, and she made it back to us both times. I can only hope that she can find the rest of her way back now.
Laura ... her changes are the most subtle. She brushes aside any questions about her experiences during the Cylon occupation with a murmur that others suffered far worse than she did. Outwardly she is calm, controlled, every inch the President the fleet needs her to be. Inwardly, I know she has faces haunting her nights too. I can see them in her eyes during her rare unguarded moments, not only the faces of those souls lost on New Caprica, but the faces of the thirteen people who died because former President Zarek decided to have high-level collaborators summarily executed without due process--based on evidence she'd gathered. I know she sees these faces, just as I know she keeps asking herself is there something else I could have done? Part of me is intensely relieved that our hard-won understanding and connection still seems intact, but the rest of me is impatient, wishing she'd talk to me just a little bit more. I worry that worse is in store for her if she continues to disregard her own wounds in her rush to help others.
I see other faces in the night watch, Chief Tyrol, Felix Gaeta, Doc Cottle ... so many others, all bearing the trauma of living under Cylon control. The fleet has been divided before, between President and Commander. The military was split between Galactica and Pegasus. Each time, we've healed the rifts and restored unity.
Now we're divided once more, between those who left and those who were left behind.
And I spend my nights wondering if we'll ever be whole again.
Muse: Admiral William Adama
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica '03
Word count: 584
It's not so much what, as who.
You can lower the raised eyebrows. I'm not talking about sex. Wish I was.
Faces are what keep me up at night right now, the faces of those I love ... those I abandoned on New Caprica.
Four months later, we've been reunited, but the divide is still there. I can see it.
Saul's face haunts me the most because he's the most obviously wounded, body and soul. He's suffered everything in the name of the resistance: detention, torture, loss of his eye, turning kids into suicide bombers, whatever it was that happened to Ellen. Every wound, both Cylon-caused and self-inflicted, left scars that he displays like badges of honor. I'd never deny him the honor he deserves, but in clinging to the scars, he clings to the pain. Our friendship, shared experience and understanding always let me reach Saul before, no matter how self-destructive he got. But I wasn't there to share this experience, and my friendship hasn't been enough to bridge the gap.
Kara's face has also changed, though not so dramatically. Her eyes have always reflected her spirit, and right now they're angry, closed-off, choked with rage. Unlike Saul, she refuses to discuss her time in Cylon detention with anyone, not even her husband. Sam suspects everything connects to the child she rescued and the Leoben model she knifed in the process. It rings true, though my gut twists at the thought of that Cylon bastard's fixation and what he may have done to my girl. Samuel Anders and I have our own issues, but we both care deeply about Kara, and we're both equally at a loss for how to reach her. We lost her twice before, and she made it back to us both times. I can only hope that she can find the rest of her way back now.
Laura ... her changes are the most subtle. She brushes aside any questions about her experiences during the Cylon occupation with a murmur that others suffered far worse than she did. Outwardly she is calm, controlled, every inch the President the fleet needs her to be. Inwardly, I know she has faces haunting her nights too. I can see them in her eyes during her rare unguarded moments, not only the faces of those souls lost on New Caprica, but the faces of the thirteen people who died because former President Zarek decided to have high-level collaborators summarily executed without due process--based on evidence she'd gathered. I know she sees these faces, just as I know she keeps asking herself is there something else I could have done? Part of me is intensely relieved that our hard-won understanding and connection still seems intact, but the rest of me is impatient, wishing she'd talk to me just a little bit more. I worry that worse is in store for her if she continues to disregard her own wounds in her rush to help others.
I see other faces in the night watch, Chief Tyrol, Felix Gaeta, Doc Cottle ... so many others, all bearing the trauma of living under Cylon control. The fleet has been divided before, between President and Commander. The military was split between Galactica and Pegasus. Each time, we've healed the rifts and restored unity.
Now we're divided once more, between those who left and those who were left behind.
And I spend my nights wondering if we'll ever be whole again.
Muse: Admiral William Adama
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica '03
Word count: 584