BSG Inspiration Day 1st person
Ahh, my computer has been having troubles but I have it. Later than it probably could be, but it's here. For BSG_Epics
Leoben, with Kara mixed in of course on the prompt of hand holding by rirenec.
Set Season 3, slightly out of canon.
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Coughing hurt. Breathing hurt. Everything in me, simply hurt. The fact so many humans had suffered and died this way was not lost on me. In our journey to becoming human, we not only picked up some bad habits and traits, but inherited the dark side as well. The fluid in my lungs ached and burned as it came up my throat, unable to leave my body. A contagion, a pathogen killing me from the inside out, no weapon to fight back. Even thinking of the simple concept of walking, something we learn as children, took far too much effort to even conceive a thought. My death was coming, end of line, end of my path. But it would simply not come fast enough.
Sitting in this cell, I was no more miserable than I had been on the baseship. Here it felt a tad crueler, the guards watched us, fed us but made us work ourselves for it. Oh, I knew in my rightful mind they had to make sure we were fed, had to get some info out of us before they let us have a peaceful way out, but in the fever when I came in and out, it seemed they made sure to never give us enough. Just enough to survive. It was laced with something I was sure, probably to keep us alive until they could interrogate us.
A guard pulled me to my feet a day after I came in. Maybe a week, maybe a month. My mind can't register anything anymore. They dragged my out and shoved me in a chair, like the child does her doll at a tea party. I know there is supposed to be injustice in it, something to taunt me, let me know I'm at their mercy. In actuality, it is a releif. Just another thing I don't have to spend more energy on. The thud of gravity sitting me down jars my lungs, and forces my body into fits of coughing. The pitiful sound the spasming makes is a far cry from my last appearance with her. But then again, so much has changed.
She is here. Really here, not a product of my fevered mind. Out of reach for sure, I suppose I deserve that, but she is close enough to touch if I were quick enough. Not that I could be, again, she hangs just out of reach, a pretty beautiful thing I can only want. Her clipped tone is cool,, the expression a mirror only I can see through. Anger, cold furious anger, later turning into fear and something I have never seen her look like. But she is real, her actions prove it, she isn't some product of my mind. It means my part is almost over, and hers has just begun.
She begs me to save myself, the words said in a different tone altogether, worry coloring over her features. I can't tell her anything, how do I explain to her this is my time, I can't live on like she wants. It's ironic I suppose, she killed me when I could live, and now dying for real she wants me to stay. How do I explain to her my role is complete? She needs to be brave, and that I really will stay with her as she follows her path. Not in body like she thinks, but another way altogether.
Her leaving is both a releif and a sadness at the same time. It's the last I will see of her, and I can't tell her of what lies ahead. I'm carried back over to the cell, thrown on a cot and stuck there. Probably for good this time, no point wasting precious resources on me, a cylon who won't live long or talk to get any medication. This one is useless, forget him.
Later, whether hours or days, black whirls around and I can't remember anymore. When it clears, Kara is standing there, looking down at me expectantly. "Take my hand." She says, extending it out to me. "It's time to go." Before I can ask where, if she is real, or even where we are going, she grabs my hand to pull me up. And my end has begun.
Leoben, with Kara mixed in of course on the prompt of hand holding by rirenec.
Set Season 3, slightly out of canon.
______________________________________________________________________________________
Coughing hurt. Breathing hurt. Everything in me, simply hurt. The fact so many humans had suffered and died this way was not lost on me. In our journey to becoming human, we not only picked up some bad habits and traits, but inherited the dark side as well. The fluid in my lungs ached and burned as it came up my throat, unable to leave my body. A contagion, a pathogen killing me from the inside out, no weapon to fight back. Even thinking of the simple concept of walking, something we learn as children, took far too much effort to even conceive a thought. My death was coming, end of line, end of my path. But it would simply not come fast enough.
Sitting in this cell, I was no more miserable than I had been on the baseship. Here it felt a tad crueler, the guards watched us, fed us but made us work ourselves for it. Oh, I knew in my rightful mind they had to make sure we were fed, had to get some info out of us before they let us have a peaceful way out, but in the fever when I came in and out, it seemed they made sure to never give us enough. Just enough to survive. It was laced with something I was sure, probably to keep us alive until they could interrogate us.
A guard pulled me to my feet a day after I came in. Maybe a week, maybe a month. My mind can't register anything anymore. They dragged my out and shoved me in a chair, like the child does her doll at a tea party. I know there is supposed to be injustice in it, something to taunt me, let me know I'm at their mercy. In actuality, it is a releif. Just another thing I don't have to spend more energy on. The thud of gravity sitting me down jars my lungs, and forces my body into fits of coughing. The pitiful sound the spasming makes is a far cry from my last appearance with her. But then again, so much has changed.
She is here. Really here, not a product of my fevered mind. Out of reach for sure, I suppose I deserve that, but she is close enough to touch if I were quick enough. Not that I could be, again, she hangs just out of reach, a pretty beautiful thing I can only want. Her clipped tone is cool,, the expression a mirror only I can see through. Anger, cold furious anger, later turning into fear and something I have never seen her look like. But she is real, her actions prove it, she isn't some product of my mind. It means my part is almost over, and hers has just begun.
She begs me to save myself, the words said in a different tone altogether, worry coloring over her features. I can't tell her anything, how do I explain to her this is my time, I can't live on like she wants. It's ironic I suppose, she killed me when I could live, and now dying for real she wants me to stay. How do I explain to her my role is complete? She needs to be brave, and that I really will stay with her as she follows her path. Not in body like she thinks, but another way altogether.
Her leaving is both a releif and a sadness at the same time. It's the last I will see of her, and I can't tell her of what lies ahead. I'm carried back over to the cell, thrown on a cot and stuck there. Probably for good this time, no point wasting precious resources on me, a cylon who won't live long or talk to get any medication. This one is useless, forget him.
Later, whether hours or days, black whirls around and I can't remember anymore. When it clears, Kara is standing there, looking down at me expectantly. "Take my hand." She says, extending it out to me. "It's time to go." Before I can ask where, if she is real, or even where we are going, she grabs my hand to pull me up. And my end has begun.