Fic: unfettered, kara/leoben, rated PG.
Title: Unfettered
Author: Sionnain
Pairing: Kara, Leoben (Kara/Leoben, references Kara/Sam, Kara/Lee)
Rating: PG
Spoilers: For Daybreak: Part 2, the series finale.
Summary: Kara has to say goodbye to Leoben, and put some things to rest.
AN: Thanks to Meresy for a very wonderful beta, and helping get this fic pointed in the right direction. I really didn't like how my OTP didn't have any sort of resolution, and while I am hoping for some deleted scenes to clarify their storyline, I wrote this to bring some closure.
Unfettered
The light is so bright it almost burns her eyes.
Kara looks out towards the horizon and shields her eyes as she takes in all the colors of the landscape that is is spread before her: the vivid green of the grass, the blue of the sky. The expanse makes her dizzy--there's too much open space for someone used to living behind walls. The wind on her face is warm, and for a moment she thinks about battle, but that is behind them now, there is no fire here. The wind here is nothing like New Caprica, lancing cold against skin and stinging like needles. It's nothing like Earth, salt-air from the sea tasting thick and bitter on the tongue. The air here is heady and sweet, touched with the promise of life.
Kara climbs over the top of a hill and finds what she's looking for; a cluster of Twos standing among a few other Cylons, talking in low voices and surveying the land. She makes her way down the grassy hill, feeling momentarily disoriented by so many identical faces. Which is stupid, really, considering how long she's been among the humanoid Cylons, but she can't help it. She's always thought of Leoben as singular, different than the other models. The Sixes had Natalie and Caprica, the Eights Sharon and Boomer. But the Twos, they were always Leoben. She doesn't remember ever seeing more than one of him at a time, unless one was dead.
The Twos glance at her curiously, meet her eyes and then look away, but there is no fear on their faces. Kara glances at them all in turn, wondering how she's going to do this, which one she should talk to. And then she sees one model standing off in the distance, the only one that doesn't look at her. This one, then, is the one she wants. Kara wonders if he's the model from the Demetrius and it makes her sad to think he might be; of all the Leobens she's known, that one had been different. Closer to a comrade, a brother in arms, drenched in the same blood of battle. To think the one who'd ran from her on Earth had been the same one who'd held such an unshaken belief in her destiny...
It doesn't matter anymore. It is time to end this. She doesn't have a lot of time left.
The Leoben who is avoiding her is dressed in a red shirt the color of blood, glinting like fire in the bright sun. The sky is blue and his shirt is red and there's yellow amidst the emerald grass; it's like the mandala again, the circle of life, everything turning and turning in swirling color. In her head Kara can hear the strains of the song that brought them here, the last lingering chords of a destiny fulfilled. It's fading, falling into nothing, and she doesn't think she will ever hear it again. Not in this life, anyway.
She follows him to a large tree, branches stretching up towards the sky, throwing a canopy of shade over the grass. "Leoben."
He stiffens but he doesn't move away; he leans against the trunk of the tree and regards her solemnly, warily. She wonders what he'll do, here on Earth, and thinks he will find a place easier than some of the others who are used to working with machines or Vipers. There is always a place for mystics and seers, isn't there?
"Kara," he says, and he meets her eyes for a few moments before he looks away again, anxious, as if looking for some way to escape. Kara wants to laugh. It is always this way between them, this dance of push and shove, advance and retreat. He had said as much, hadn't he, the first time they'd met? How many times had the switched roles, from prisoner to jailer, tormented and tormentor? All of this has happened before...
But she doesn't want it to happen again. The sun glints off his shirt, and Kara thinks she can see it, all the blood spilled in the history that stretches between them. But it's nothing more than a trick of the light and besides--the time for bloodshed is done. After this, the band will fall silent, and their dance will be done.
"Why did you run away from me?" Kara asks him, tilting her head. "On...Earth. Or whatever we're calling it now. When we found my body, you--why? I thought, of anyone, I thought you--I thought you would understand. Would know, or would at least--help me."
It hurts to say it, to admit she would have willingly asked for anything from him, but it's the truth. I needed you and you weren't there. You were always there, even when I didn't want you, and the one time I needed you, you turned and ran and left me alone.
Leoben laughs, the sound harsh. "Kara, I saw you standing by that Viper and I knew that it was your body in the cockpit. I knew then that I beheld an angel of God, and I was afraid. I could no longer see the path of righteousness. I was no longer standing on the banks, I was caught in the current and I was drowning.
"Drowning, Kara. For a moment I lost my faith, and do you know--can you possibly know what that was like, to lose your faith so suddenly, in front of a messenger of God?" Leoben looks away, and Kara realizes that he's ashamed.
Kara thinks back to standing on Kobol and seeing the way to Earth lit brilliant and bright in the night sky, then remembers the wasted expanse of Earth, the devastation brought by war. "Close enough," she mutters, her mouth twisting at the memory. "You were afraid. Of me."
"I was afraid of you," Leoben assents with a nod. "I was afraid of what it meant, your death, considering what I had done to make sure you stayed alive. Imprisoning you on New Caprica, bringing you the child. I did those things because I told myself your survival was necessary. I needed you to accept your destiny and believe in something greater than yourself. Believe in me, and the things I knew lie in store for you. And I stood there, and I thought--for what? Why had I done those things?"
"But that wasn't--" you, Kara almost says, but he interrupts her before she can finish.
"Me? Of course it was. My model has always had a singular purpose, Kara. God sent me to guide you from the darkness and bring you into the light, to see that you found your way and led us all to salvation. And I stood on the barren shores of a desolate planet devoid of that promise, gazing upon the charred remains of the woman I loved, and I was terrified, and I doubted. I lost my faith, and I ran from you." Leoben tilts his head and looks up into the branches.
Kara feels a sudden chill despite the warmth of the day, and she takes a step back, away from him, out of the circle of the shade. The sun feels warm on her back, and she relishes the sensation for a moment; it is too fleeting, and not for her, this promise of life. "You believed in me. On the Demetrius--that was you, wasn't it? This you, I mean," she says, waving her hand at him. "I know it was. Don't bother to lie," she says bossily, and the shade of an actual smile ghosts across his mouth.
"Yes. It was me. But they're all me, Kara, that's what I'm trying to say--"
"No. The others--when I came down the hill, there, the others just looked at me and stayed where they were. You can't download your memories anymore, Leoben. They wouldn't know about what happened unless you told them, and I don't think that you did. You're becoming individuals, just like the Sixes, just like the Eights. You all are. There's no single purpose anymore, or whatever you call it. There's just this," she says quietly, indicating the expanse of ground and sky that surrounds them.
He cocks his head, considering, then nods. "Yes. You're right."
Kara takes a hesitant step closer to him, back into the shade. "I found Earth--this one, I mean, the one where we can live. I did what you always said I would do. So. You weren't wrong. And we all doubt, Leoben. All of us. But--thank you for telling me. I wanted to know." Kara looks at him for a long time, a half-remembered dream of his hands on her, his mouth, white paint smeared on his temple and in the strands of his hair. There has always been something between them, as much as she always wanted to deny it, and she can feel remnants of it like an echo through her body.
Leoben blinks, his gaze sharpening, intent, as if he's not really seen her until this moment. "You're leaving," he says quietly, and sadness passes across his face. However complicated and dark is their past, she believes that he loves her. It is tied up in her destiny and his belief in God's plan, but it is love all the same. Not the all-encompassing brightness of Sam's love for her, or even Lee's, but she cannot deny that it is there. "Your light is fading," he says, stepping towards her. "It bleeds from you, I can see it." His voice sounds reverent, awestruck; and this, this is more like the Leoben she knows, the one who sounds torn between obsession and adoration every time he speaks to her. A prophet come home at last.
Kara steps closer and puts her hands on his shoulders. "You have a soul," she says, feeling the heat of his body, the strength of it, this man who has been her tormentor and her protector and her captor and her guide. Kara feels his hands settle on her waist; they are trembling when he touches her. The past is finished, burned up in the sun with the hull of Galactica. Whatever his future holds, she is not a part of it. "I told you before that I didn't believe you, that you were just a machine. But I don't believe that anymore, Leoben." She can almost see his soul, in fact, caught bright in the blue of his seer's gaze. "I believe you have a soul. And I had to--I had to tell you."
Kara presses her mouth to his, kisses him just as she did that last day on New Caprica. Only this time, there are no pretty lies, and there are no punishing knives sliding deep into muscle and bone. There is only the sky above her and the fertile ground below, and Leoben's mouth, warm against her own. And the truth of her words, as close as she can come to saying what he always yearned for her to say.
One day you will hold me in your arms and you will tell me you love me. I've seen it.
"Godspeed, Kara," Leoben whispers, his voice shaken, when she pulls away. He reaches out again, but he doesn't touch her. His fingers curl into his palm and drops by his side. "I believe that I will see you again, in another life."
"I believe that, too," Kara says simply, and she does. All of this has happened before... And the next time they meet, there will no longer be recriminations and fear and anger. She will hold her arms out to him in welcome and she will embrace him, and finally say in the next life what she cannot say in this one. "Be well, Leoben." As she steps back she can almost feel the ties that bind them--the ties that have always bound them--undone and falling away at last.
Kara touches her fingers to her lips briefly, and turns to go. There are other goodbyes she has yet to make. She can feel his eyes on her as she walks away, leaving him for the last time.
She turns her face up, feels the sun once more against her skin. I'm coming, Sam.
Author: Sionnain
Pairing: Kara, Leoben (Kara/Leoben, references Kara/Sam, Kara/Lee)
Rating: PG
Spoilers: For Daybreak: Part 2, the series finale.
Summary: Kara has to say goodbye to Leoben, and put some things to rest.
AN: Thanks to Meresy for a very wonderful beta, and helping get this fic pointed in the right direction. I really didn't like how my OTP didn't have any sort of resolution, and while I am hoping for some deleted scenes to clarify their storyline, I wrote this to bring some closure.
Unfettered
The light is so bright it almost burns her eyes.
Kara looks out towards the horizon and shields her eyes as she takes in all the colors of the landscape that is is spread before her: the vivid green of the grass, the blue of the sky. The expanse makes her dizzy--there's too much open space for someone used to living behind walls. The wind on her face is warm, and for a moment she thinks about battle, but that is behind them now, there is no fire here. The wind here is nothing like New Caprica, lancing cold against skin and stinging like needles. It's nothing like Earth, salt-air from the sea tasting thick and bitter on the tongue. The air here is heady and sweet, touched with the promise of life.
Kara climbs over the top of a hill and finds what she's looking for; a cluster of Twos standing among a few other Cylons, talking in low voices and surveying the land. She makes her way down the grassy hill, feeling momentarily disoriented by so many identical faces. Which is stupid, really, considering how long she's been among the humanoid Cylons, but she can't help it. She's always thought of Leoben as singular, different than the other models. The Sixes had Natalie and Caprica, the Eights Sharon and Boomer. But the Twos, they were always Leoben. She doesn't remember ever seeing more than one of him at a time, unless one was dead.
The Twos glance at her curiously, meet her eyes and then look away, but there is no fear on their faces. Kara glances at them all in turn, wondering how she's going to do this, which one she should talk to. And then she sees one model standing off in the distance, the only one that doesn't look at her. This one, then, is the one she wants. Kara wonders if he's the model from the Demetrius and it makes her sad to think he might be; of all the Leobens she's known, that one had been different. Closer to a comrade, a brother in arms, drenched in the same blood of battle. To think the one who'd ran from her on Earth had been the same one who'd held such an unshaken belief in her destiny...
It doesn't matter anymore. It is time to end this. She doesn't have a lot of time left.
The Leoben who is avoiding her is dressed in a red shirt the color of blood, glinting like fire in the bright sun. The sky is blue and his shirt is red and there's yellow amidst the emerald grass; it's like the mandala again, the circle of life, everything turning and turning in swirling color. In her head Kara can hear the strains of the song that brought them here, the last lingering chords of a destiny fulfilled. It's fading, falling into nothing, and she doesn't think she will ever hear it again. Not in this life, anyway.
She follows him to a large tree, branches stretching up towards the sky, throwing a canopy of shade over the grass. "Leoben."
He stiffens but he doesn't move away; he leans against the trunk of the tree and regards her solemnly, warily. She wonders what he'll do, here on Earth, and thinks he will find a place easier than some of the others who are used to working with machines or Vipers. There is always a place for mystics and seers, isn't there?
"Kara," he says, and he meets her eyes for a few moments before he looks away again, anxious, as if looking for some way to escape. Kara wants to laugh. It is always this way between them, this dance of push and shove, advance and retreat. He had said as much, hadn't he, the first time they'd met? How many times had the switched roles, from prisoner to jailer, tormented and tormentor? All of this has happened before...
But she doesn't want it to happen again. The sun glints off his shirt, and Kara thinks she can see it, all the blood spilled in the history that stretches between them. But it's nothing more than a trick of the light and besides--the time for bloodshed is done. After this, the band will fall silent, and their dance will be done.
"Why did you run away from me?" Kara asks him, tilting her head. "On...Earth. Or whatever we're calling it now. When we found my body, you--why? I thought, of anyone, I thought you--I thought you would understand. Would know, or would at least--help me."
It hurts to say it, to admit she would have willingly asked for anything from him, but it's the truth. I needed you and you weren't there. You were always there, even when I didn't want you, and the one time I needed you, you turned and ran and left me alone.
Leoben laughs, the sound harsh. "Kara, I saw you standing by that Viper and I knew that it was your body in the cockpit. I knew then that I beheld an angel of God, and I was afraid. I could no longer see the path of righteousness. I was no longer standing on the banks, I was caught in the current and I was drowning.
"Drowning, Kara. For a moment I lost my faith, and do you know--can you possibly know what that was like, to lose your faith so suddenly, in front of a messenger of God?" Leoben looks away, and Kara realizes that he's ashamed.
Kara thinks back to standing on Kobol and seeing the way to Earth lit brilliant and bright in the night sky, then remembers the wasted expanse of Earth, the devastation brought by war. "Close enough," she mutters, her mouth twisting at the memory. "You were afraid. Of me."
"I was afraid of you," Leoben assents with a nod. "I was afraid of what it meant, your death, considering what I had done to make sure you stayed alive. Imprisoning you on New Caprica, bringing you the child. I did those things because I told myself your survival was necessary. I needed you to accept your destiny and believe in something greater than yourself. Believe in me, and the things I knew lie in store for you. And I stood there, and I thought--for what? Why had I done those things?"
"But that wasn't--" you, Kara almost says, but he interrupts her before she can finish.
"Me? Of course it was. My model has always had a singular purpose, Kara. God sent me to guide you from the darkness and bring you into the light, to see that you found your way and led us all to salvation. And I stood on the barren shores of a desolate planet devoid of that promise, gazing upon the charred remains of the woman I loved, and I was terrified, and I doubted. I lost my faith, and I ran from you." Leoben tilts his head and looks up into the branches.
Kara feels a sudden chill despite the warmth of the day, and she takes a step back, away from him, out of the circle of the shade. The sun feels warm on her back, and she relishes the sensation for a moment; it is too fleeting, and not for her, this promise of life. "You believed in me. On the Demetrius--that was you, wasn't it? This you, I mean," she says, waving her hand at him. "I know it was. Don't bother to lie," she says bossily, and the shade of an actual smile ghosts across his mouth.
"Yes. It was me. But they're all me, Kara, that's what I'm trying to say--"
"No. The others--when I came down the hill, there, the others just looked at me and stayed where they were. You can't download your memories anymore, Leoben. They wouldn't know about what happened unless you told them, and I don't think that you did. You're becoming individuals, just like the Sixes, just like the Eights. You all are. There's no single purpose anymore, or whatever you call it. There's just this," she says quietly, indicating the expanse of ground and sky that surrounds them.
He cocks his head, considering, then nods. "Yes. You're right."
Kara takes a hesitant step closer to him, back into the shade. "I found Earth--this one, I mean, the one where we can live. I did what you always said I would do. So. You weren't wrong. And we all doubt, Leoben. All of us. But--thank you for telling me. I wanted to know." Kara looks at him for a long time, a half-remembered dream of his hands on her, his mouth, white paint smeared on his temple and in the strands of his hair. There has always been something between them, as much as she always wanted to deny it, and she can feel remnants of it like an echo through her body.
Leoben blinks, his gaze sharpening, intent, as if he's not really seen her until this moment. "You're leaving," he says quietly, and sadness passes across his face. However complicated and dark is their past, she believes that he loves her. It is tied up in her destiny and his belief in God's plan, but it is love all the same. Not the all-encompassing brightness of Sam's love for her, or even Lee's, but she cannot deny that it is there. "Your light is fading," he says, stepping towards her. "It bleeds from you, I can see it." His voice sounds reverent, awestruck; and this, this is more like the Leoben she knows, the one who sounds torn between obsession and adoration every time he speaks to her. A prophet come home at last.
Kara steps closer and puts her hands on his shoulders. "You have a soul," she says, feeling the heat of his body, the strength of it, this man who has been her tormentor and her protector and her captor and her guide. Kara feels his hands settle on her waist; they are trembling when he touches her. The past is finished, burned up in the sun with the hull of Galactica. Whatever his future holds, she is not a part of it. "I told you before that I didn't believe you, that you were just a machine. But I don't believe that anymore, Leoben." She can almost see his soul, in fact, caught bright in the blue of his seer's gaze. "I believe you have a soul. And I had to--I had to tell you."
Kara presses her mouth to his, kisses him just as she did that last day on New Caprica. Only this time, there are no pretty lies, and there are no punishing knives sliding deep into muscle and bone. There is only the sky above her and the fertile ground below, and Leoben's mouth, warm against her own. And the truth of her words, as close as she can come to saying what he always yearned for her to say.
One day you will hold me in your arms and you will tell me you love me. I've seen it.
"Godspeed, Kara," Leoben whispers, his voice shaken, when she pulls away. He reaches out again, but he doesn't touch her. His fingers curl into his palm and drops by his side. "I believe that I will see you again, in another life."
"I believe that, too," Kara says simply, and she does. All of this has happened before... And the next time they meet, there will no longer be recriminations and fear and anger. She will hold her arms out to him in welcome and she will embrace him, and finally say in the next life what she cannot say in this one. "Be well, Leoben." As she steps back she can almost feel the ties that bind them--the ties that have always bound them--undone and falling away at last.
Kara touches her fingers to her lips briefly, and turns to go. There are other goodbyes she has yet to make. She can feel his eyes on her as she walks away, leaving him for the last time.
She turns her face up, feels the sun once more against her skin. I'm coming, Sam.