the eighth day . part 3
Day Eight
Galactica
He had come aboard the Galactica to see his sister. Then the Cylons attacked and suddenly the Chief Doctor really needed an extra trauma surgeon. He was happy to provide his services, really, but what he really wanted to know was-
“’Scuse me.” Simon’s thought process was interrupted by a man with a broken leg sitting on a steel examination table (they’d run out of beds and he’d seemed fine with sitting somewhere other than on the floor). He was slightly pale, but he was grinning at Simon. “You seen Sasquatch?”
Simon blinked at him. “Who?”
The man gave him an odd look, then his eyes widened. “You don’t work on ship?”
“I work in Caprica City,” said Simon, and then winced slightly. “Worked.” He held out his hand. “Doctor Simon Tam.”
“Dean,” replied the other man simply. He leaned back on his hands and gave Simon a measured look. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to see my sister,” explained Simon. Dean winced and sat back up, causing the doctor in him to start forward. “Have you gotten that properly looked at?”
He shrugged. “It’s been set, but the old guy had people to take care of who actually work here, so it’s cool that I don’t get priority.”
Simon sighed and made to look at it more closely when a flash of blonde caught his eye. He turned sharply, recognizing the Viper pilot arguing at someone’s turned back. “Kara!”
Dean winced again when Starbuck turned and walked over to them, but it wasn’t from any pain in his leg. She ignored him completely. “Doctor Tam. I didn’t know you were here.”
“I came to see River,” explained Simon. “Have you seen her?”
Dean figured the wince from Starbuck meant that something was wrong.
“She’s…out on a mission,” she started slowly. “She should have actually been back by now.”
Simon frowned at her. “What was the mission?”
“I can’t tell you that,” said Starbuck haughtily. Dean didn’t buy that.
“Bullshit, there’s a war going on, where’s his sister? And where’s Sam?”
Starbuck glared at him, her fingers twitching to sucker punch him. “You’re not part of the fleet,” she snarled. “I don’t know why Sasquatch considers you a friend anyway-”
“Where the frak is my sister?” interrupted Simon. “What was her mission?”
Starbuck sighed at the interruption. “She’s near Caprica most likely, I sent her and Sasquatch on a wide perimeter sweep of the Galactica. They were supposed to be back two days ago.”
“Sasquatch?” repeated Simon, looking at Dean. “Isn’t that the guy you were looking for?”
He nodded. “Sam. He’s already got a Raptor partner though.”
“River flies Vipers,” said Simon in an accusing voice, turning to Starbuck. “What is she doing in a Raptor?”
“As punishment for striking a superior.” Simon’s jaw dropped.
“River?!”
“Why aren’t they back?” asked Dean, his eyes hard. “And what the hell are they doing on a crap assignment like that anyway? A Viper pilot and a seasoned officer like Sam doing perimeter checks? That’s something you make rookies do.”
“Why do you care?” snapped Starbuck. “You treat Sasquatch like crap; don’t pretend you like him now.”
“He’s my little brother!” shouted Dean, causing Starbuck’s mouth to drop open in shock, along with catching the attention of a few others within range. “I’m not supposed to treat him well. That would defeat the purpose of being an older brother.”
“Are they even still alive?” asked Simon softly, cutting Starbuck and Dean off of their glaring contest. Starbuck shook her head, holding up her hands and backing away from the other brothers.
“Hey, I have no frakking idea. Who knows who’s even alive anymore, anyway?”
.
Dean sat alone on Sam’s bunk, staring at his baby brother’s things. The strong possibility that he was dead was eating him up inside. The Raptor most likely got caught up in the invasion of the Colonies and destroyed, like every other ship the Cylons came into contact with.
If he was alive, if, then there was no way he would be able to get back to the Galactica alive.
The hatch opened, startling Dean out of his reverie. He looked up to see Simon looking around with a frown on his face. His eyes were red and glassy, like he’d been crying. Dean didn’t even have the heart to judge him, not when he had been and still felt like doing the same.
“Simon,” he greeted hoarsely, placing the photo of himself and Sam and their Dad onto the mattress next to him. Simon startled at his name, but relaxed when he noticed it was just Dean.
“Hi,” he replied back with lamely. “I’m just,” he gestured to the room. “Trying to keep out of the way.”
“Yeah,” murmured Dean, glancing at his leg. “I know what you mean.”
“Is that your brother?” asked Simon, noticing the picture beside Dean. He glanced down at it and picked it up, handing it out for Simon to look at.
“Yup, that’s Sammy.”
Simon blinked at the photo. “He’s…”
“A frakking giant? Yeah.” Dean smirked, despite himself. Simon pulled his own photo from the pocket inside his coat, looking at it for a long moment before handing it over to Dean, along with his picture of Sam.
“That’s my sister,” he explained. Dean’s eyes lingered on Simon in the picture before shifting over to River, smiling brightly into the camera with her arms wrapped around one of Simon’s in a purple dress and combat boots.
“She’s pretty,” he said softly. And totally Sam’s type, especially if she was some sort of badass Viper pilot. He handed Simon back his photo and the two men sat and stood in silence respectively. Suddenly, Dean snorted. “Frak Kara Thrace.”
Simon nodded in agreement. “And frak Colonel Tigh.”
Dean stood up awkwardly from Sam’s bunk and shifted to the partially open door of Sam’s locker, where he’d dug out the photo. There was a bottle of alcohol on the floor underneath a sock and something Dean really hoped wasn’t a condom. He pulled out the bottle and sloshed it in Simon’s direction, sitting back heavily on Sam’s bunk, leaning against the wall. Simon contemplated for a minute before joining him, fingering the edge of his photo.
Dean popped the cork out with his teeth and spit it out across the room before taking a cautionary swig of the clear liquid. It tasted like motor oil and made him gag, but he swallowed it down anyway and handed Simon the bottle. He sniffed the contents and winced.
“What is this-?”
“Don’t think about it,” replied Dean quickly with a shake of his head. Simon swallowed and closed his eyes, tipping back the bottle quickly and shortly. He coughed it up a bit, but managed to keep the majority of it down. Dean tried not to grin at Simon’s reaction as he took it back, taking a breath and a drink.
They sat in silence, passing the time with sips from the bottle and staring into space.
“What’s she like?” asked Dean, leaning closer to Simon on the cot, looking up at him with glassy eyes. Simon released a slow breath, slumping back against the wall.
“She’s… a prodigy who wanted to be a Viper pilot,” said Simon. That seems to be all he needed to say because Dean nodded in understanding. Simon looked down at him. “Do you think they got along?”
Dean held up the picture of Sam in front of his face, reaching over Simon and raising his wrist to hold up his sister’s photo, moving both images together until Sam and River were standing side-by-side. Dean scoffed.
“Hate to say it, but I think they frakked.” Simon’s laugh was pained, but genuine; and in his more than tipsy state, fell over into Dean’s shoulder and stayed there.
“Frak, I’m going to miss her,” muttered Simon heavily, closing his eyes and turning his face into Dean’s neck. He forgave him because he was a doctor and drunk and had just lost his sister, and really, any human contact was good contact in Dean’s mind at the moment. He pillowed his cheek against Simon’s head, feeling the effects of Sam’s moonshine starting to kick in.
“I just hope they managed to somehow survive out there.”
.
River woke up warm, curled on her side in a bed that felt like the one she had at home. It smelled like the one she had at home, clean and barely used. She kept her eyes closed as she snuggled further into the sheets cocooning her, a jolt of surprise running through her when an arm tightened around her waist, pulling her against a hard muscled chest. She wondered idly what Sam was doing in her bed, but turned around in his embrace and into his warmth anyways.
To a normal person with normal brain function, it might have been at this point when they began to realize they weren’t in bed at home, and a person they only had contact with on a spaceship could not possibly have been with them, but River wasn’t a normal person with normal brain function. She was a highly gifted soldier with above genius level intelligence and moments of psychic clarity.
And she really, really didn’t want to open her eyes.
Sam shifted awake beside her and before he managed to open his eyes, she clamped down on his arm with her fingernails, stilling his movement.
“River-”
River shushed him quickly and opened her eyes, wincing at the bright lights. A far away tapping sound caught her attention and against her better judgment she lifted her head and stared in the direction the noise was coming from. She sat up slowly, Sam’s arm sliding into her lap; not bothering to look around at the white on white on sterile that she knew was there. She could hear the whirring of machines just outside the arching doorway now that she was listening. They were lying on a bed, naked save for their boots. The only sign that they had been burning alive was the slightly sunburnt color of their skin and the blisters on her lips.
Sam was looking up at her bare back, his eyes moving up her spine and tangled hair to the part of her face he could see.
“Where are we?” he asked softly. “How are we…?”
“Listen,” whispered River. Sam fell silent, listening to the echo of what River was now sure were footsteps. “Someone’s coming.”
Sam pressed his palm against her stomach, a protective weight to keep his heart steady. He could remember what had taken him out of the ship just before he blacked out.
“Twelve….Eleven….Ten….” whispered River, her own hands creeping down to cover Sam’s. Her breath hitched in her throat. “Nine….” Sam sat up behind her, his chest brushing against her shoulder. The footsteps were so very close; he could almost make out the shape of a woman walking toward them against the brightness. River swallowed. “….Eight.”
The shadows broke across her face as the woman stepped through the doorway, smiling at the pair in the center of the room. The machine noise River had noticed earlier turned out to be a pair of Cylons guarding their room. They moved in after her, guarding her back. Sam felt his mouth go dry.
“Boomer?”
“Sharon is fine. After all,” not-Boomer crossed her arms over her chest, leaning forward with a knowing smile on her face. “She’s only one of many.”
“Boomer’s a Cylon?” muttered Sam rhetorically. River swallowed thickly, her eyes fluttering shut as she bit back her nausea. “There are…”
“The Cylons have human form,” said River. “I didn’t want to tell you-”
“You knew-wait, of course you knew,” Sam shook his head, huffing in disbelief. He glared at Sharon. “And we’re prisoners, aren’t we?”
“Of course,” she said, it’s only the most obvious answer. “The others thought you would react better to a familiar face.”
Sam snorted. “They were very wrong, whoever they are.”
“I was wrong,” said River softly, turning her head to look at Sam and ignoring Sharon’s subtle facial change from complacence to indignation. “And I’m not often wrong. We should have taken the deal.”
“The deal?” asked Sam, still staring at Sharon, not processing River’s words for a moment. When he did he balked.
“But how lucky for us,” began Sharon, backing out of the room, her smile falling off her face as the shadows obscured it once again. “That you didn’t.”
The Cylons left in the room straightened to attention with Sharon’s leave, each transforming an arm into a weapon and pointing at the pair. Sam eyed them warily, moving an arm up and around River’s shoulders, pulling her closer.
“It was better that we didn’t,” he muttered into her hair, still watching the robots. “We’re alive, we can escape.”
“Don’t you get it, Sam?” asked River harshly, glaring at him. “We can’t.”
“What do you mean?” he asked slowly, not looking at her. Her glare softened and she sighed.
“We’re prisoners of war,” she explained. “On a Cylon baseship. We’re not going anywhere for a long time.”
“What about-“ Sam stopped abruptly, causing River to turn her head to look at him, but he wasn’t looking at her face. She followed his gaze. Sam sucked in a breath. “What ‘It’ meant, how they were lucky we didn’t take the deal with Crowley, and what you interpreted from Crowley about being...” he trailed off, and River put the pieces together. If she was pregnant, he meant. If she was pregnant and the Cylons knew then what did they want.
“Good question,” muttered River, tucking her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “They don’t know the answer though, none of them know anything.”
“Then who are they following?” River shrugged. Sam sighed and leaned back on an arm, staring up at the ceiling. “What about clothes? Or are we going to have to stay prisoners naked?”
“We still have our boots,” River sassed, turning her head to look at him with a smirk. Sam rolled his eyes.
“We’re alive,” he said slowly after a forever of silence. She nodded slowly for him to continue. Yes, we’ve established this. Anything more to add on the subject? “I don’t know how to deal with this.”
“We’ll get through it, somehow,” murmured River, reaching out to trace a pattern on Sam’s cheek. “I’m sure that Stockholm syndrome will be a great contender in our stellar accomplishment at staying alive, but we’ll get through it.”
“Well, if I had to be stuck for an unknown allotment of time on an enemy baseship with anyone…” said Sam, trailing off with a suggestive smirk in River’s direction. Her hand fell from his face and landed close to his.
“Sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Twenty levels above, a Three stood next to the Eight model who’d introduced them, arms crossed over her chest and a disgusted looked twisted on her face.
“This is nauseating.”
“The mating rituals of humans,” explained a One offhandedly in passing. “Don’t try to even comprehend their behavior.” The Eight snorted in agreement, but once the One was out of ear shot, shook her head.
“I don’t know, maybe John’s right,” she began, speaking of the One faction who had passed. “Maybe we shouldn’t have saved them. She’s pregnant, and he knows of the old religion-”
“It doesn’t matter, we saved them, there’s nothing we can do about it now,” interrupted the Three. “We’ll be able to study her pregnancy and hopefully make progress with the hybridization program. As for the demon hunter…”
“I suppose the Ones will have to do what they wish with him,” finished the Eight, glancing at her companion with slight warning in her eyes. “And if nothing else we can just interrogate them for information on the fleet.”
“I’m sure everyone will be pleased about that,” interrupted a Six from behind them, causing them to turn and look at her. The Six raised an eyebrow. “But I’m sure you heard the girl, like the rest of us did. She’s been touched by God.”
“It must be a sign,” the Eight mused, turning away from the Six, a thoughtful look on her face. “We were meant to find them and they are meant to lead us.”
The Three gave her a look and the Eight shrugged, her mouth twisting in amusement. “Well, as much as a human can lead a Cylon.”
“What do we do with them for now?” asked the Six, turning into the Three’s shoulder and lowering her voice. “We’ve healed their bodies, prevented her miscarriage, and reversed the damage done to his cornea when he made the mistake of opening them during our retrieval. What else is there to do?”
“River was right,” said the Three, addressing the human girl by her name. “They’ll trust us eventually, and they’ll have a baby on board the ship. If we’re lucky we’ll be able to gather the supplies necessary to summon a demon, and be lead to Earth.”
“It sounds like you’re making this up as you go along,” accused the Six under her breath, earning a sharp glare from the Three. They held gazes for a beat until the Six backed off, touching the Eight’s arm to grab her attention. “Let’s find them something to wear. Humans are always so conscious of their bareness around others.”
And for the moment, everything was suspended in the air; waiting to press forward and continue. For a moment, River stared at Sam who tried not to project how completely okay he was with just being alive. For now, the Three was content to ignore the possibility that a demon would do nothing but bring disease and death and a fissure between her people; Simon let his eyes slip closed as he leaned against Dean, trying not to think of the other man as the only person he had left.
And for the moment everything seemed good.