Hello everyone, and welcome to today's post! Yesterday's DPP yielded us two lovely fics,
Buzzing The Beast by
useyourlove and
Mustering Out by
word_vomity - if you haven't read them yet, please show them some love! (we have such a talented fandom, don't we
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There's a limit, she thinks, to what human beings can endure. A threshold. A barrier, that if crossed, becomes unendurable. She looks back fondly now at the dozens of times she'd thought she'd hit that mark, only to be proven just how wrong she'd been by those fickle fates that dashed her broken spirit on the waves and jagged rocks again . . . and again, for sport. It seems that threshold is still further out, dangling, mocking her, waiting to break her for good. How she moves through her days now, she isn't certain. By ripping off the broken pieces that hurt too much to carry, she supposes. She feels lighter without them, but less too.
In truth, she is perpetually surprised to find herself still here at all, in spite of the suffering and regardless of her belief that she had fallen through the deepest cracks in the worlds, still moving through this semblance of her life. A shadow of a distant life and her, a memory of its former owner. Even her shadows have shadows these days, she thinks darkly as she catches sight of herself in the mirror. Bruises on top of bruises. Haunted circles beneath swollen eyes betraying her otherwise stoic pretense. But she doesn't back down from the looks she gets now. If a curious glance falls upon her on the flight deck, she seeks it out. Holds it angrily. Screaming silently with piercing bloodshot eyes for them to take in their fill of her damaged body and to guess just how deeply that damage has seeped into her bruised bones, poisoning her from the inside out. They always break away first. She considers it a victory these days, there are so few victories now. She smiles wolfishly as they scatter.
She hasn't thought about Lee since that night. Not since she rolled off him and they lay panting and exhausted upon the mat, wet with their sweat and blood, their limbs burning with acid, unmanageable and foreign. They had lain there in that ring for a long time, long after everyone else had surrendered the night for the comfort of their racks. Their spent bodies didn't move. Only their heads turned, in accord, inwards to meet and they held in that moment, eyes to eyes. They didn't speak, but they said everything to one another, just staring. Pleading and forgiving. She didn't remember falling asleep, but she knew that she must have because eventually her eyes opened, tight and painful, and he was gone. Every part of her ached. Beside her, she found a glass of water and two pills. She felt like yesterday's road kill as she dragged herself from the sticky surface of the mat. She lifted shakily onto unsteady legs and swallowed his peace offering, smiling at his small gesture. The barely mended cut on her lip burst from the movement but she didn't mind, at least it was something.
She can't bring herself to believe that their fight, cathartic though it had been, had truly solved anything between them, can't bring herself to hope. She sees him a few times afterwards. On the flight deck, in briefings and once in the CIC. He doesn't look away like the others do. She isn't surprised, he wears the same defiant look that she does. Daring her, daring everyone to comment. For once, no one does.
Days fade into weeks and vivid purple and black begin to dull into sluggish yellows and greens. As they diminish, she feels a weight going with them. It catches her off guard. The day that her eye goes down enough to see clearly through it again, she nearly catches herself smiling at the Chief on the deck. When she can shower without reopening any wounds, she comes out of the spray feeling almost real again, almost like a person and when Helo calls her name across the mess, she answers to her name which finally feels like hers again in a way that it hasn't since New Caprica. Eventually, as ribs knit and muscles bind, she begins to wonder just what their fist might be capable of after all.
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She seeks him out. Corridors that so recently seemed empty and gray are now teeming with people, clamorous and vibrant. She wants that. That vibrant exuberant feeling. She remembers it once, with Lee. He's in a hallway, reading papers, head down. She walks straight up to him and reaches out for his arm. It doesn't hurt. She's surprised to notice that nothing hurts. She remembers, all the rage, the blame, the betrayals. All their cruel words tossed like grenades, aimed perfectly to inflict the most damage. They are all still there, but they don't overtake everything else. She smiles up at him, grateful.
He's thrown for a moment. Confusion mars his face and he can't immediately hide the inquisitive quirk of his head. His eyes narrow as he attempts to read her. He opens his mouth to frame a question but she can't have that, doesn't know the answers to any of his questions. She stops him with her fingers, light but clear and gives him a look he knows well. A very purposeful look that the two of them have been perfecting over the course of years, tweaking and honing to just the perfect calibration of desire. It is usually telegraphed quickly though, so that it is easily shrugged of a one's imagination or across distances where space creates safety or in the presence of others when playing with fire had been too tantalizing to resist. But right now it's none of those things, its long and close and only them. Her intention clear. She feels it sink in, sees his eyes widen, hears his breaths deepen, feels his muscle tense beneath her hand.
For just a moment, he leans into her and lets their forehead rest against one another, exhaling in relief. But she's too far gone with needing. Her insides hammering and pulsing like too much electricity in too small a space. Grabbing his hand she pulls him to the nearest open hatch, a storage locker she thinks. She's not sure. Her mind is racing from his touch and she can feel the thud of her heart for the first time in months. Her only conscious thought is of his name, a mantra inside her blood washing through every part of her. For a moment he resists her pull, uncertainty filling him but another look in her eyes and he has enough answers. He follows her into the dark room willingly, unable to resist her any longer. After all, he thinks as he slams shut the thick metal hatch, there are limits to what human beings can endure.
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Thanks!
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I was in a mood or something yesterday lol, but I'm happy you liked it! :)
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