Protect
Title: Protect
Ship: Guzman/Mira
Genre: Drama/Angst
Rated: PG-13
Word Count: 884
Summary: Actions speak louder than words.
A/N: Written for Guzman/Mira - protect by morganel for ‘Friday One Word Fic Challenge - Week 8
I can’t recall the events of the occupation with absolute accuracy so please excuse any blatant discrepancies in my story. Takes place during those moments in between.
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She thought she had gotten used to Lucas’ bouts of mania. Thought she had learned what signs to look out for, how to interpret his wavering moods and animated body language but tonight’s tantrum proved her wrong.
She didn’t know what had occurred at the bar but he returned hours later looking gleeful despite his busted lip and bruised face. He had swiftly informed her of the events that had transpired in her absence. Explained with detail of the beating “young Shannon” had received, the torture the elder was subjected to, and how he manipulated “Bucket” to an agreement he’d collect on later.
Her eyes darkened at that. The man was a sick bastard to think he’d get away with it. She makes a note to inform Carter. (She knew about their relationship even if she never mentioned it.) Meanwhile, she’d keep an eye on the girl. She’s a lot of things but a despicable human being was not one of them.
Silence reigned on them for a couple of minutes as he paced the office, muttering to himself, gesticulating left and right. He looked like a little boy hyped up on sugar. This she knows to be a volatile situation, especially when said boy is hanging onto sanity by the skin of his teeth.
He stops directly in front of her and places his large hands on her shoulders, ducks his head to lessen the discrepancy in height and tells her to follow him. As she trails after, more so to satisfy the morbid curiosity of his intentions than anything else, she notes the direction they’re heading in and comes to the conclusion that the brig is their final destination. Unless the Shannon men are still found within its confines, she has only one other guess as to the identity of the person Lucas is seeking and she’s overwhelmed by panic.
She thought he would be safe, away from the fighting, away from this maniac. But she’s underestimated Lucas’ thirst for blood, for violence. She still has time and she attempts to dissuade him of whatever plan he’s concocted in his twisted head.
“There’s no one of importance in the brig. What exactly do you have in mind?”
“One of my father’s prized lieutenants is locked up. Perhaps I could persuade him to talk, tell us my father’s location.”
Shit. She attempts to keep her voice calm, controlled, distant. “If no one has come forward, what makes you think this particular lieutenant will?”
“We’ll see how he handles under torture,” a crazed smile turning his lips as he reaches for the door.
Seconds later they reach the only occupied cell. He’s sitting with his back to the wall, right hand handcuffed to some metal bar, long legs stretched out in front of him. He looks just like she remembers, a little more worn perhaps.
While Washington was kept in the public eye he was delegated to the shadows underground. When he turns to look in their direction, his eyes find her and they bore angrily, accusingly into hers. She fights the urge to look away to avoid alerting Lucas anything was amiss.
“Was wondering if you were up for some company, Lieutenant?” Despite his politeness, the man managed to make the hairs on the back of her neck stand up with just one sentence.
“You can go to hell,” is his response.
While she didn’t expect anything else from one of Taylor’s men, from a man as noble as Isaac, she knew this was the wrong answer as far as Lucas was concerned. His face quickly turns sour and he punches the restrained man, again and again, set off in a rage by the imagined blow to his ego, disregard for his so called authority.
“That’s enough, Lucas!” Her voice is firm, if a bit distressed. She pulls him off of Isaac when there is no sign of him stopping.
He pushes her away as he straightens and yells at her, “fine, I’ve got better things to do than waste my time here.” She stares after him as he leaves in a childish rage, making sure the coast is clear.
Once she hears the door shut behind him she crouches down next to him, takes his chin in her hand to inspect the damage. He doesn’t put up a fight, his eyes searching her face as she reaches for her handkerchief in her pants pocket. Never stops as she wipes away the blood from his lips and brow.
“What are you doing Mira?”
“Lucas is out of control. I’m just making sure he doesn’t cross the line.” She gives him a once over before moving to stand up again when he places his hand around her wrist, keeping her where she is.
“What are you doing Mira?” He says again.
She doesn’t know how to answer, what to answer. How does she tell him she’s doing her best to protect him when she was partly responsible for the events that had befallen the colony? Instead she reaches into her pants pocket again, removes the small piece of metal she had hidden away earlier and drops it in his hand. He watches after her as she rises and makes her exit, then down to his hand where she dropped the key to the handcuffs.