Two Roads Diverged : Chapter 10
Title: Two Roads Diverged (10/10)
Author: icedteainthebag
Word Count: 34,420
Rating: MA
Pairings: Ellen Tigh/Saul Tigh, Laura Roslin/Bill Adama
Warnings: Character death
Summary: Sometimes we make mistakes when we think we're doing the right thing.
Notes: See Chapter One. Everybody frakkin’ rocks. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Artist: MrsDrJackson
Link to Art: banner can be found here.
x x x x
Laura was never more happy to see Tom Zarek than when he boarded the truck and sat down beside her.
There was something about sitting by someone she knew in a truck full of strangers that made her feel falsely at ease. The panic that had hit her when she'd seen the masked NCP officers enter the school had nearly made her vomit. She'd barely kept it together, knowing her eyes betrayed her fear.
She'd heard them make their demands to her and kept her appearance calm. She'd reassured the children around her that she'd be back soon, even as her sore muscles began to throb again, a phantom pain.
I still have those bruises. I won't let you hurt me again.
She'd set her resolve and held her head high as she was led with a group of others to the truck. It was then she started shaking, clinging tightly to the wooden bench. She hated feeling afraid again, hated feeling powerless. She knew wherever they were going couldn't be good.
Tom cracked a joke and she smiled, an honest to gods smile, and for a brief moment she felt like things might just turn out for the better.
The road was bumpy and she watched as their transport moved away from the city.
Somehow, some way, maybe they'll turn out for the better.
x x x x
I'm frakking screwed.
Ellen sat on the stairs of the long-abandoned dance floor. She watched clouds pass overhead, the sky turning crimson with the sunset.
This is it, then.
The sex wasn't enough for the Brother Cavil anymore. It never was enough. It was merely a ploy, a means to an end. First it was to release Saul, then it was to keep him free, and now it wasn't enough to keep him safe.
I want a specific place, I want a specific time for a very high-level meeting of the insurgency leadership...
Cavil wanted her to turn on her own people and knew she would do it to save the life of the man she loved.
Cavil didn't know love. His motions were expressionless, his actions selfish and sadistic. When she looked into his eyes, when they spoke or when they frakked, she saw no emotion, no empathy. He wanted what he wanted and he knew how to get it. She didn't understand what would make a man-he's not a man, he's a machine-so inherently cruel.
What he did know about love was that people would do nearly anything for the people they loved, and he effortlessly exploited it. He knew she would do anything for Saul-frak, she'd already given her body and a chunk of her spirit.
Might as well give it all.
She knew where the meetings of the insurgency were held, usually when they were held. It would be so easy to tell Cavil where and when to find them.
The idea made her sick.
She stayed on the stairs until the sky turned dark, the orange light from the fires lighting the city until it glowed, hiding the stars and feigning warmth.
It's getting cold.
x x x x
Laura was becoming convinced that death didn't want her after all. On this occasion, she'd literally tumbled out of its way unscathed, down a rocky hill, an aching salvation.
Her heartbeat was rapid as she caught her breath. She'd saved Tom, an impulse move, grabbing him and dragging him with her. He was thankful, expressing his gratitude with an off-color joke about women throwing him down. She barely listened but found herself laughing, partially in reaction to the sharp pain she was feeling from the bruises she already had being battered again by her fall.
Then she heard Chief, and saw Chief. Everything stopped then.
"We're goin' home. Admiral Adama's on his way. We're gettin' off this rock and goin' back to Galactica."
Oh, my gods, I never ever thought I'd hear those words.
She looked to the sky, silently thanking the ship she couldn't yet see for the promised rescue.
x x x x
I want you to know that I would do anything for you...
Ellen grabbed the map and tucked it into her pants. It was a split-second decision that should have sent her stomach twisting at its implications, yet she for some reason she felt relief that she'd happened upon the information so easily.
It seemed so perfect-the timing of her entry into the tent, the way Saul handed the paper to her. It was like it was meant to be, so easy she could hardly believe it.
Saul was trusting of her, not a worry in his heart.
You never should have trusted me so much.
Nobody was watching. The small part of her that hoped they'd catch her in the act was overwhelmed by the larger part exulting that she'd just retrieved the information that was going to save her husband's life.
She walked the darkened path toward the detention center. She knew it was past curfew, but didn't care. They could pick her up, detain her, interrogate her, whatever they wanted to do. Maybe it would be preferable to die at the hands of machines anyway.
The Centurions let her pass without question.
She slipped past the large metal doors and walked down the long hallway. Her body reacted as it always did when she approached his door, but she reassured herself with the fact that this time would be different.
Instead of my body, he'll take the lives of others.
She knocked on the door and when Cavil opened it, she gave him a nervous smile.
"Back for more?" he asked, beckoning her in.
She bit her cheek hard as she walked past him, her mouth dry. She turned to him and pulled the map out from her waistband, her fingers shaking.
"Here's your frakkin' intelligence," she spat, tossing the folded paper in his direction. Cavil raised his eyebrows, then bent down and picked up the map.
He approached until he was standing inches away from her. She could feel his heat. It made her nauseated as she looked into his eyes.
"How'd you get it?" he asked. "The twist or the swirl?"
She slapped him. Instead of flinching, he smiled with a chuckle.
I hate that sound the most.
He unfolded the map and she looked away as he scanned it.
"Thanks for the invitation," he said. "I'll come bearing gifts."
"I've done what you requested," she whispered, her eyes stinging. "Now leave us the frak alone."
"You'd better make sure Saul stays home," Cavil mused. "And I'd highly recommend he consider a different career path. You know, one that doesn't include insurgency."
"There's only an insurgency because we're under a hostile occupation," she said, feeling the overwhelming urge to hit him harder. She looked into his eyes. "You could have left us alone on this planet. Look at the mess you've all caused, and for what? Some sort of revenge?"
"We'll live in peace soon," he said. "Just have to get a few antagonists out of the way first."
"You can't force peace."
"Oh, but it's so fun to try."
He brushed her shoulder as he walked past her. She swallowed the lump in her throat.
"Can I go?" she asked, her voice hoarse.
"Unless you'd like to stay," he said. His tone made her sick.
She didn't look back when she left. It was the last time she'd have to hear his voice.
x x x x
Suddenly, time was flying, humanity's exodus impending. Laura felt unprepared, yet she'd never felt more ready for something to happen. She could feel the anticipation thrumming in her body, an energy she couldn't shake, no matter how much she tried to relax.
I'm ready, Bill. We're ready.
The resistance meetings had gotten more intense, delving into specific details of how exactly to get thousands of citizens safely off the planet. It was a tall order, the scope of it leaving her head spinning. She talked as if she had complete faith in the plan, but when it came down to it, she knew some people would never leave the planet's surface.
Desperate people take desperate measures.
She had explained to Sam the importance of Maya and Isis in exceedingly specific terms. He needed to believe her, and he accepted her insistence with a curious look in his eyes.
And then there was Ellen-Laura hadn't spoken to her and wondered how she'd taken the news of the Fleet's return. She had to be just as excited as Laura was to escape. It was a reward well earned for the both of them. She had the urge to go see her after the meeting, just to see how she'd been over the weeks they'd lost touch.
Maybe we'll end up getting along once we get shipside.
x x x x
The first person Ellen saw as she was dragged into their underground bunker was Laura, though Saul's name was the first that escaped her lips.
"We need to talk."
Laura tilted her head at Connor's demand, her brow furrowed.
"What is this?" Laura asked, looking over at Saul.
Oh, gods, I'm sorry...I'm sorry...
Ellen forced herself to look at him as he stood, speechless in his confusion and flinching in instinctive disapproval of the way Connor jerked at her arm.
Saul was still. "Everybody but Anders and Connor get the frak out."
Things were happening so quickly her mind could barely keep up.
Maybe it's better this way.
"Colonel Tigh-" Laura began.
"You too," he snapped gruffly. "This doesn't involve you."
Ellen bit the inside of her lip at the flash of concern that crossed Laura's face. Laura hesitated, then walked past her, putting her hand on her arm.
"You know where to find me," she said. Ellen could see the uncertainty in her eyes.
Ellen could only manage a nod as she blinked away tears.
If only you knew.
x x x x
There's a frantic desperation that arises from within when one is attempting to postpone the inevitable. It starts as a spark of hope, deep inside, that somehow it'll all work out. That in a whirlwind of ideas followed by a rush of words, you'll manage to say something, anything that will help you save yourself.
Ellen knew it was false, this sense of possibilities beyond the fate she knew she deserved. Yet she let herself believe that somehow she could talk her way out of this one like she'd talked her way out of so many things before.
The temporary solace this provided-no matter how disillusioned she was-was like putting a butterfly closure on the tear in her heart. She was bleeding out. She could feel her life leaving her already, sliding through her fingers. It was not a question of if, but of when and how.
And who.
She sat by herself, listening to Sam hiss at Saul, his voice rising on the most painful of words.
There was nothing I could do.
It still echoed in her head even though she'd given up trying to convince anyone that she did what she had to do to save Saul's life. Her knee-jerk lies, hasty explanations and earnest excuses were not enough to convince anyone that her traitorous actions were justified. Saul had stared at her in disbelief. She could nearly see his heart breaking.
She would make him understand.
It won't matter, but I'll make him understand.
That was all that mattered.
She'd tell him everything.
x x x x
They sat next to each other on the unfinished wooden bench, underground, alone.
She told him she'd done it all for him; it was as honest as she'd ever been with him, really, though she could think of dozens of times before when she'd done something only for him, to keep him, to show him that she loved him. He kept telling her he knew, but she wasn't sure he did. He was shaking when he told her everything would be all right, because Saul Tigh was a man of his word, and he wasn't used to lying to her.
She told him everything. Not looking for pity or a way out, not trying to hurt him or make him think badly enough of her that taking his next steps would be easy. He needed to understand how much she loved him, that she would do anything for him.
Did I ever tell you how glad I am I married you?
"I didn't want anybody to be killed."
I was only trying to save you, to save us.
He gave the cup to her because she asked him for it. She accepted the cup because he gave it to her. It was easier for him this way; it was easier for her.
The blue ceramic was cool in her hand.
I'll save it for a special occasion.
She looked into his eyes and she wasn't afraid. For the first time in a long time, she wasn't afraid.
The liquid scorched her throat, the bitter aftertaste telling. It was as easy as that, the easiest thing she'd ever done. Earnest truths he needed to hear slipped past her lips as easily as the tears down her cheeks, but she was tired, so tired of all of it.
He felt so warm and strong, so comfortable, and she closed her eyes to the world because there was nothing else worth seeing.
"Shoulda listened to you, Saul. Shoulda stayed on Galactica."
All I wanted was you.
He told her not to worry, just to go to sleep, his arm wrapped tightly around her. It was all she wanted to do. What sweet relief it would be from everything falling down around her.
It's okay. I just need to sleep.
x x x x
Laura hastily wrapped her journals in a brown cloth and tied them together. She slid them into her coat and fastened it as the sounds of the battle raged overhead.
She couldn't take much; she'd known this from the beginning. Only what she could carry in her hands.
She gave one last look at the space she'd called home. This space they'd called home.
In the trunk was the dress. In the corner was the cot. On the table were two cups, waiting to share another meager breakfast on a lazy morning where reality existed only beyond the canvas walls.
She would go back to her ship. It would take her to him.
"It's gonna be okay," she whispered.
x x x x
The rumble of Colonial One's takeoff was jarring. Laura had almost forgotten what being airborne felt like-the upward lift, the split second in which her stomach flipped before the craft's stabilization system kicked in.
She walked to the window when the shaking stopped and looked down at the land below. The river wound through the camp out to the lake, surrounded by the mountains she remembered hiking back when things were good.
There were dark, still forms on the ground too, though she had to squint to see them as the ship rose. She knew what they were, but looked upward before thinking further.
You're leaving it behind.
There was no celebration aboard Colonial One upon breaching New Caprica's atmosphere. It was rightfully morose, quiet and still as she watched the familiar passage of stars from what used to be her desk.
Her eyes lowered to her clothes, dusty and torn. She needed to shower before Bill saw her.
The head on board was too clean, too sterile. She undressed without looking in the mirror.
You're leaving it behind.
She watched the dirty water swirl down the drain, ruddy water dulling the white shower base beneath her feet.
Once the bruises are gone, only the memories will remain.
x x x x
There had been more sadness in the next few hours. The census had been done upon the Fleet's reunification. Tory looked broken when she reported back that Maya and Isis had not made their ship. The news unsettled Laura, as much as it could. Nothing seemed to faze her for the time being, not even the death of a close friend or the fact that they'd just lost Isis.
Beautiful, mysterious Isis.
Laura had moved beyond the ability to be broken. She had acknowledged their deaths with calm and simple acceptance.
This is bigger than us. This is life.
She'd told Tory that and immediately felt the need to see Bill. She'd waited long enough.
Laura hoped things on Galactica had settled down so her arrival would be less chaotic. She had Tory arrange a transport, saying she needed a meeting with the Admiral. It felt strange to call him that. She wondered if he was anticipating seeing her, or what he expected to see when she arrived. She wondered if he'd look different and if she would be able to detect the grief she knew he was harboring. She would see it in his eyes, if anything.
It was always in his eyes.
He had to have missed her as much as she missed him.
This quick journey looked the same as always when she gazed out the Raptor's window. Darkness and stars, a sea of ships surrounding their anchor.
Galactica had never seemed so majestic.
They landed on the hangar deck and she felt nervous, tapping her fingers anticipatorily atop her knees.
The Raptor door opened and Bill was there to greet her. Her heart fluttered at the sight of him-her lip quivered in reminder of how close she had been to never seeing him again.
He smiled broadly when their eyes met. She resisted the urge to run up to him, to throw her arms around him and kiss his soft, full lips and bury her face in his neck.
He's Admiral here.
"It's good to see you, Laura," he said as she stepped down from the Raptor.
His ship, his hangar deck, his formality.
"It's good to see you," she repeated, smiling.
His hand was hesitant as he turned and placed it lightly on the small of her back. She felt herself flinch, then took a deep breath and widened her smile at the warmth of his palm.
"Care to join me for dinner?" he asked. They walked away from the bustle of the deck and into the even more crowded bustle of the hallway.
"Only if it's somewhere I can kick off my shoes."
"You never used to wear shoes in my quarters," he said. "I don't think that much has changed."
x x x x
They ate at his table, something she'd always taken for granted. Laura was thankful that Galactica had stored some reserves of fresh food from New Caprica, but she knew it wouldn't last long. They'd soon be dining on the usual reconstituted military rations.
Both of them remained silent for most of their meal. She watched him chew and tried to decipher the thoughtful expression he directed at his plate.
The quiet was a welcome change and always felt so comfortable with him.
"How are Saul and Ellen?" she asked, sitting back in the chair. She put her fork and knife down as he looked up at her sharply, like she'd drawn attention to something important. She gave him a quizzical look, uneasiness settling in.
He put his utensils down and his gaze softened. "Saul's all right."
She kept his gaze and was nearly afraid to ask the question on the tip of her tongue. As if he read her mind-which she was sometimes convinced he could-he answered her question for her. "Ellen didn't make it."
The words hit her hard and she blinked.
"What...what do you mean, she didn't make it?"
Of course she made it. How could she have not-
"Off the planet. She didn't make it."
Laura's stomach tightened into a painful knot. In an instant she was angry, confused, and overwhelmed by his words.
Ellen didn't make it.
"How...Bill, how could this happen? She's the wife of the XO, for frak's sake. Are you sure?"
"Saul told me. They couldn't find her. Cylons might have…"
He stopped short. She was sure it was because he knew she didn't need to hear his theories on what exactly the Cylons did to people. She knew it better than him.
Oh, gods, Ellen...
Her mouth fell open and she shook her head in disbelief. "I saw her right before we all...she seemed fine. I don't understand...Bill, something's not right here."
Laura's tears began to fall as she stammered over her words.
Something's not right here. Something's not right.
Bill stood up and walked over to her. He took her hand, pulling her up into his arms. She felt stiff, her limbs heavy, her head faint.
"Saul's doing all right," he said, tightening his embrace.
"At least one of them is," she answered hoarsely.
His hand slid under her chin, tilting her head upward. She tried not to look into his eyes. She wasn't ready for him to see how much she was hurt, not at that moment, not like that.
"I don't know what happened to you down there-"
"Down there," she said, her voice wavering. She slid her arms around his waist. He felt good, solid, strong, like he always had. "We lost thousands of people is what happened to me down there. Ellen was one of them. Gods, all she…all we went through."
You have no idea what we went through.
She felt him take a deep breath. She pressed her cheek against his chest, her throat aching as she tried to stop her tears.
"Every day I wanted to be down there with you," he murmured into her hair. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."
Her breath was shaky as she calmed herself; he planted kisses atop her head.
"You did what you had to do," she said. "We did what we had to do."
x x x x
Their kiss was long and slow, his tongue familiar in her mouth. She took comfort in it and in every sensual memory that his body invoked as he held her.
Tickling behind his ear makes him moan, your thigh against his cock makes him kiss you harder, and he loves it when you nibble his lip.
She'd gone over these, time and time again, when she was alone down on that rock, pushing away the darkness.
He plucked free the buttons of her shirt and shed it for her. She kept her eyes closed and felt the slightest tingle of pain as his fingers pressed into her bare back, sliding up to undo her bra.
She faced him and kissed him harder when it hurt, her fingers tugging at the back of his hair.
I just won't turn around.
She knew the most incriminating evidence of what had happened was still fading across the muscles of her back, and she didn't want him to see it.
He doesn't have to see it.
She yanked up his tanks, kissing him more urgently, only stopping to pull them over his head. Her mouth searched his as she tugged at his pants and boxers until he removed them at her insistence. She was desperate, increasingly more so, to get him on top of her, to get him inside of her, to grab him and pull him close and feel the warmth of his naked body.
"Gods, I missed you," he said gruffly, his hands in her hair.
She hummed into his kiss, pulling him toward his rack. The sound of his voice made her twitch in anticipation. "I missed you too," she breathed.
His hands slid down over her ass and squeezed it. "I missed this, too," he teased as he kissed her jaw.
She felt her body tense up at his touch and she immediately pulled his hands away. He turned to look at her and she let out a breathless laugh.
Don't act like anything's wrong.
"Let's lie down," she said, her smile illusory, kissing his lower lip, nudging his mouth.
In his rack, his touch was light, almost too reverent as he removed her pants and underwear. She breathed deeply to calm the nervousness swirling in her stomach. She pretended his fingers didn't linger across the sparse yellowing bruises on her skin.
Maybe it's dark enough with only the light of the lamp.
Bill took her with his hands and his mouth, reading her body like he was memorizing it. He made her come without much of an effort, the strength of her orgasm surprising her. Her back arched as she cried out, gripping his hair as she felt her orgasm roll over her, over and over. Relaxing into the sheets, she heard his contented growl against her skin.
She grasped at his shoulders, pulling at the muscles that met his neck. "Bill, up here. Come up here and kiss me."
He crawled up her body, kissing his way up her sides, lingering where she wished he wouldn't.
He's not kissing the bruises.
His mouth found hers and it was gentle, so gentle. She lost herself in it.
"I was so worried," he began, his fingers brushing her cheek.
"Mmmm, don't," she whispered. "Not now."
She wrapped her legs around him and encouraged him with a lift of her hips. He looked into her eyes and she took him in with a moan until he met the warmth coiled deep within her.
She writhed under him, the bandage wrapped around his hand rough as it skirted down her bare thigh.
We're damaged, but we're free.
He nestled his face in her neck and she held him tightly. He rocked gently into her, back and forth. She breathed him in.
This is life.
x x x x
Ellen wakes up drowning and breaks the surface with a gasp.
At first she doesn't know where she is or even if she's alive. Her vision blurry, she sees only light surrounding her. Light and darkness. Red, blue and white. She's immersed in something, she's warm, and there's light, the bright, white light.
Until she hears the sound, that horrible whirring sound of the Centurion standing in the room that sends her heart racing the instant before she sees it. She clings to the wall of the tub. Terror overcomes her as she sobs. She scrambles to get away from it, shaking as she screams, liquid sloshing around her body.
Not again, not again. Frakking Cylons. I'd rather die. I'd rather die.
It stands motionless, except for its eye-its blip, its eye-shifting from side, to side, to side.
She looks around for help, but there's no one. No one but him.
It. Him.
The calm washes over her, a sudden and unexpected realization.
It. Him. Me.
The hazy pain in her head fades.
I'm alive.
"Will you help me up, please?" she asks him.
For the first time in a long time, she isn't afraid.
- end -
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10
Author: icedteainthebag
Word Count: 34,420
Rating: MA
Pairings: Ellen Tigh/Saul Tigh, Laura Roslin/Bill Adama
Warnings: Character death
Summary: Sometimes we make mistakes when we think we're doing the right thing.
Notes: See Chapter One. Everybody frakkin’ rocks. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Artist: MrsDrJackson
Link to Art: banner can be found here.
x x x x
Laura was never more happy to see Tom Zarek than when he boarded the truck and sat down beside her.
There was something about sitting by someone she knew in a truck full of strangers that made her feel falsely at ease. The panic that had hit her when she'd seen the masked NCP officers enter the school had nearly made her vomit. She'd barely kept it together, knowing her eyes betrayed her fear.
She'd heard them make their demands to her and kept her appearance calm. She'd reassured the children around her that she'd be back soon, even as her sore muscles began to throb again, a phantom pain.
I still have those bruises. I won't let you hurt me again.
She'd set her resolve and held her head high as she was led with a group of others to the truck. It was then she started shaking, clinging tightly to the wooden bench. She hated feeling afraid again, hated feeling powerless. She knew wherever they were going couldn't be good.
Tom cracked a joke and she smiled, an honest to gods smile, and for a brief moment she felt like things might just turn out for the better.
The road was bumpy and she watched as their transport moved away from the city.
Somehow, some way, maybe they'll turn out for the better.
x x x x
I'm frakking screwed.
Ellen sat on the stairs of the long-abandoned dance floor. She watched clouds pass overhead, the sky turning crimson with the sunset.
This is it, then.
The sex wasn't enough for the Brother Cavil anymore. It never was enough. It was merely a ploy, a means to an end. First it was to release Saul, then it was to keep him free, and now it wasn't enough to keep him safe.
I want a specific place, I want a specific time for a very high-level meeting of the insurgency leadership...
Cavil wanted her to turn on her own people and knew she would do it to save the life of the man she loved.
Cavil didn't know love. His motions were expressionless, his actions selfish and sadistic. When she looked into his eyes, when they spoke or when they frakked, she saw no emotion, no empathy. He wanted what he wanted and he knew how to get it. She didn't understand what would make a man-he's not a man, he's a machine-so inherently cruel.
What he did know about love was that people would do nearly anything for the people they loved, and he effortlessly exploited it. He knew she would do anything for Saul-frak, she'd already given her body and a chunk of her spirit.
Might as well give it all.
She knew where the meetings of the insurgency were held, usually when they were held. It would be so easy to tell Cavil where and when to find them.
The idea made her sick.
She stayed on the stairs until the sky turned dark, the orange light from the fires lighting the city until it glowed, hiding the stars and feigning warmth.
It's getting cold.
x x x x
Laura was becoming convinced that death didn't want her after all. On this occasion, she'd literally tumbled out of its way unscathed, down a rocky hill, an aching salvation.
Her heartbeat was rapid as she caught her breath. She'd saved Tom, an impulse move, grabbing him and dragging him with her. He was thankful, expressing his gratitude with an off-color joke about women throwing him down. She barely listened but found herself laughing, partially in reaction to the sharp pain she was feeling from the bruises she already had being battered again by her fall.
Then she heard Chief, and saw Chief. Everything stopped then.
"We're goin' home. Admiral Adama's on his way. We're gettin' off this rock and goin' back to Galactica."
Oh, my gods, I never ever thought I'd hear those words.
She looked to the sky, silently thanking the ship she couldn't yet see for the promised rescue.
x x x x
I want you to know that I would do anything for you...
Ellen grabbed the map and tucked it into her pants. It was a split-second decision that should have sent her stomach twisting at its implications, yet she for some reason she felt relief that she'd happened upon the information so easily.
It seemed so perfect-the timing of her entry into the tent, the way Saul handed the paper to her. It was like it was meant to be, so easy she could hardly believe it.
Saul was trusting of her, not a worry in his heart.
You never should have trusted me so much.
Nobody was watching. The small part of her that hoped they'd catch her in the act was overwhelmed by the larger part exulting that she'd just retrieved the information that was going to save her husband's life.
She walked the darkened path toward the detention center. She knew it was past curfew, but didn't care. They could pick her up, detain her, interrogate her, whatever they wanted to do. Maybe it would be preferable to die at the hands of machines anyway.
The Centurions let her pass without question.
She slipped past the large metal doors and walked down the long hallway. Her body reacted as it always did when she approached his door, but she reassured herself with the fact that this time would be different.
Instead of my body, he'll take the lives of others.
She knocked on the door and when Cavil opened it, she gave him a nervous smile.
"Back for more?" he asked, beckoning her in.
She bit her cheek hard as she walked past him, her mouth dry. She turned to him and pulled the map out from her waistband, her fingers shaking.
"Here's your frakkin' intelligence," she spat, tossing the folded paper in his direction. Cavil raised his eyebrows, then bent down and picked up the map.
He approached until he was standing inches away from her. She could feel his heat. It made her nauseated as she looked into his eyes.
"How'd you get it?" he asked. "The twist or the swirl?"
She slapped him. Instead of flinching, he smiled with a chuckle.
I hate that sound the most.
He unfolded the map and she looked away as he scanned it.
"Thanks for the invitation," he said. "I'll come bearing gifts."
"I've done what you requested," she whispered, her eyes stinging. "Now leave us the frak alone."
"You'd better make sure Saul stays home," Cavil mused. "And I'd highly recommend he consider a different career path. You know, one that doesn't include insurgency."
"There's only an insurgency because we're under a hostile occupation," she said, feeling the overwhelming urge to hit him harder. She looked into his eyes. "You could have left us alone on this planet. Look at the mess you've all caused, and for what? Some sort of revenge?"
"We'll live in peace soon," he said. "Just have to get a few antagonists out of the way first."
"You can't force peace."
"Oh, but it's so fun to try."
He brushed her shoulder as he walked past her. She swallowed the lump in her throat.
"Can I go?" she asked, her voice hoarse.
"Unless you'd like to stay," he said. His tone made her sick.
She didn't look back when she left. It was the last time she'd have to hear his voice.
x x x x
Suddenly, time was flying, humanity's exodus impending. Laura felt unprepared, yet she'd never felt more ready for something to happen. She could feel the anticipation thrumming in her body, an energy she couldn't shake, no matter how much she tried to relax.
I'm ready, Bill. We're ready.
The resistance meetings had gotten more intense, delving into specific details of how exactly to get thousands of citizens safely off the planet. It was a tall order, the scope of it leaving her head spinning. She talked as if she had complete faith in the plan, but when it came down to it, she knew some people would never leave the planet's surface.
Desperate people take desperate measures.
She had explained to Sam the importance of Maya and Isis in exceedingly specific terms. He needed to believe her, and he accepted her insistence with a curious look in his eyes.
And then there was Ellen-Laura hadn't spoken to her and wondered how she'd taken the news of the Fleet's return. She had to be just as excited as Laura was to escape. It was a reward well earned for the both of them. She had the urge to go see her after the meeting, just to see how she'd been over the weeks they'd lost touch.
Maybe we'll end up getting along once we get shipside.
x x x x
The first person Ellen saw as she was dragged into their underground bunker was Laura, though Saul's name was the first that escaped her lips.
"We need to talk."
Laura tilted her head at Connor's demand, her brow furrowed.
"What is this?" Laura asked, looking over at Saul.
Oh, gods, I'm sorry...I'm sorry...
Ellen forced herself to look at him as he stood, speechless in his confusion and flinching in instinctive disapproval of the way Connor jerked at her arm.
Saul was still. "Everybody but Anders and Connor get the frak out."
Things were happening so quickly her mind could barely keep up.
Maybe it's better this way.
"Colonel Tigh-" Laura began.
"You too," he snapped gruffly. "This doesn't involve you."
Ellen bit the inside of her lip at the flash of concern that crossed Laura's face. Laura hesitated, then walked past her, putting her hand on her arm.
"You know where to find me," she said. Ellen could see the uncertainty in her eyes.
Ellen could only manage a nod as she blinked away tears.
If only you knew.
x x x x
There's a frantic desperation that arises from within when one is attempting to postpone the inevitable. It starts as a spark of hope, deep inside, that somehow it'll all work out. That in a whirlwind of ideas followed by a rush of words, you'll manage to say something, anything that will help you save yourself.
Ellen knew it was false, this sense of possibilities beyond the fate she knew she deserved. Yet she let herself believe that somehow she could talk her way out of this one like she'd talked her way out of so many things before.
The temporary solace this provided-no matter how disillusioned she was-was like putting a butterfly closure on the tear in her heart. She was bleeding out. She could feel her life leaving her already, sliding through her fingers. It was not a question of if, but of when and how.
And who.
She sat by herself, listening to Sam hiss at Saul, his voice rising on the most painful of words.
There was nothing I could do.
It still echoed in her head even though she'd given up trying to convince anyone that she did what she had to do to save Saul's life. Her knee-jerk lies, hasty explanations and earnest excuses were not enough to convince anyone that her traitorous actions were justified. Saul had stared at her in disbelief. She could nearly see his heart breaking.
She would make him understand.
It won't matter, but I'll make him understand.
That was all that mattered.
She'd tell him everything.
x x x x
They sat next to each other on the unfinished wooden bench, underground, alone.
She told him she'd done it all for him; it was as honest as she'd ever been with him, really, though she could think of dozens of times before when she'd done something only for him, to keep him, to show him that she loved him. He kept telling her he knew, but she wasn't sure he did. He was shaking when he told her everything would be all right, because Saul Tigh was a man of his word, and he wasn't used to lying to her.
She told him everything. Not looking for pity or a way out, not trying to hurt him or make him think badly enough of her that taking his next steps would be easy. He needed to understand how much she loved him, that she would do anything for him.
Did I ever tell you how glad I am I married you?
"I didn't want anybody to be killed."
I was only trying to save you, to save us.
He gave the cup to her because she asked him for it. She accepted the cup because he gave it to her. It was easier for him this way; it was easier for her.
The blue ceramic was cool in her hand.
I'll save it for a special occasion.
She looked into his eyes and she wasn't afraid. For the first time in a long time, she wasn't afraid.
The liquid scorched her throat, the bitter aftertaste telling. It was as easy as that, the easiest thing she'd ever done. Earnest truths he needed to hear slipped past her lips as easily as the tears down her cheeks, but she was tired, so tired of all of it.
He felt so warm and strong, so comfortable, and she closed her eyes to the world because there was nothing else worth seeing.
"Shoulda listened to you, Saul. Shoulda stayed on Galactica."
All I wanted was you.
He told her not to worry, just to go to sleep, his arm wrapped tightly around her. It was all she wanted to do. What sweet relief it would be from everything falling down around her.
It's okay. I just need to sleep.
x x x x
Laura hastily wrapped her journals in a brown cloth and tied them together. She slid them into her coat and fastened it as the sounds of the battle raged overhead.
She couldn't take much; she'd known this from the beginning. Only what she could carry in her hands.
She gave one last look at the space she'd called home. This space they'd called home.
In the trunk was the dress. In the corner was the cot. On the table were two cups, waiting to share another meager breakfast on a lazy morning where reality existed only beyond the canvas walls.
She would go back to her ship. It would take her to him.
"It's gonna be okay," she whispered.
x x x x
The rumble of Colonial One's takeoff was jarring. Laura had almost forgotten what being airborne felt like-the upward lift, the split second in which her stomach flipped before the craft's stabilization system kicked in.
She walked to the window when the shaking stopped and looked down at the land below. The river wound through the camp out to the lake, surrounded by the mountains she remembered hiking back when things were good.
There were dark, still forms on the ground too, though she had to squint to see them as the ship rose. She knew what they were, but looked upward before thinking further.
You're leaving it behind.
There was no celebration aboard Colonial One upon breaching New Caprica's atmosphere. It was rightfully morose, quiet and still as she watched the familiar passage of stars from what used to be her desk.
Her eyes lowered to her clothes, dusty and torn. She needed to shower before Bill saw her.
The head on board was too clean, too sterile. She undressed without looking in the mirror.
You're leaving it behind.
She watched the dirty water swirl down the drain, ruddy water dulling the white shower base beneath her feet.
Once the bruises are gone, only the memories will remain.
x x x x
There had been more sadness in the next few hours. The census had been done upon the Fleet's reunification. Tory looked broken when she reported back that Maya and Isis had not made their ship. The news unsettled Laura, as much as it could. Nothing seemed to faze her for the time being, not even the death of a close friend or the fact that they'd just lost Isis.
Beautiful, mysterious Isis.
Laura had moved beyond the ability to be broken. She had acknowledged their deaths with calm and simple acceptance.
This is bigger than us. This is life.
She'd told Tory that and immediately felt the need to see Bill. She'd waited long enough.
Laura hoped things on Galactica had settled down so her arrival would be less chaotic. She had Tory arrange a transport, saying she needed a meeting with the Admiral. It felt strange to call him that. She wondered if he was anticipating seeing her, or what he expected to see when she arrived. She wondered if he'd look different and if she would be able to detect the grief she knew he was harboring. She would see it in his eyes, if anything.
It was always in his eyes.
He had to have missed her as much as she missed him.
This quick journey looked the same as always when she gazed out the Raptor's window. Darkness and stars, a sea of ships surrounding their anchor.
Galactica had never seemed so majestic.
They landed on the hangar deck and she felt nervous, tapping her fingers anticipatorily atop her knees.
The Raptor door opened and Bill was there to greet her. Her heart fluttered at the sight of him-her lip quivered in reminder of how close she had been to never seeing him again.
He smiled broadly when their eyes met. She resisted the urge to run up to him, to throw her arms around him and kiss his soft, full lips and bury her face in his neck.
He's Admiral here.
"It's good to see you, Laura," he said as she stepped down from the Raptor.
His ship, his hangar deck, his formality.
"It's good to see you," she repeated, smiling.
His hand was hesitant as he turned and placed it lightly on the small of her back. She felt herself flinch, then took a deep breath and widened her smile at the warmth of his palm.
"Care to join me for dinner?" he asked. They walked away from the bustle of the deck and into the even more crowded bustle of the hallway.
"Only if it's somewhere I can kick off my shoes."
"You never used to wear shoes in my quarters," he said. "I don't think that much has changed."
x x x x
They ate at his table, something she'd always taken for granted. Laura was thankful that Galactica had stored some reserves of fresh food from New Caprica, but she knew it wouldn't last long. They'd soon be dining on the usual reconstituted military rations.
Both of them remained silent for most of their meal. She watched him chew and tried to decipher the thoughtful expression he directed at his plate.
The quiet was a welcome change and always felt so comfortable with him.
"How are Saul and Ellen?" she asked, sitting back in the chair. She put her fork and knife down as he looked up at her sharply, like she'd drawn attention to something important. She gave him a quizzical look, uneasiness settling in.
He put his utensils down and his gaze softened. "Saul's all right."
She kept his gaze and was nearly afraid to ask the question on the tip of her tongue. As if he read her mind-which she was sometimes convinced he could-he answered her question for her. "Ellen didn't make it."
The words hit her hard and she blinked.
"What...what do you mean, she didn't make it?"
Of course she made it. How could she have not-
"Off the planet. She didn't make it."
Laura's stomach tightened into a painful knot. In an instant she was angry, confused, and overwhelmed by his words.
Ellen didn't make it.
"How...Bill, how could this happen? She's the wife of the XO, for frak's sake. Are you sure?"
"Saul told me. They couldn't find her. Cylons might have…"
He stopped short. She was sure it was because he knew she didn't need to hear his theories on what exactly the Cylons did to people. She knew it better than him.
Oh, gods, Ellen...
Her mouth fell open and she shook her head in disbelief. "I saw her right before we all...she seemed fine. I don't understand...Bill, something's not right here."
Laura's tears began to fall as she stammered over her words.
Something's not right here. Something's not right.
Bill stood up and walked over to her. He took her hand, pulling her up into his arms. She felt stiff, her limbs heavy, her head faint.
"Saul's doing all right," he said, tightening his embrace.
"At least one of them is," she answered hoarsely.
His hand slid under her chin, tilting her head upward. She tried not to look into his eyes. She wasn't ready for him to see how much she was hurt, not at that moment, not like that.
"I don't know what happened to you down there-"
"Down there," she said, her voice wavering. She slid her arms around his waist. He felt good, solid, strong, like he always had. "We lost thousands of people is what happened to me down there. Ellen was one of them. Gods, all she…all we went through."
You have no idea what we went through.
She felt him take a deep breath. She pressed her cheek against his chest, her throat aching as she tried to stop her tears.
"Every day I wanted to be down there with you," he murmured into her hair. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."
Her breath was shaky as she calmed herself; he planted kisses atop her head.
"You did what you had to do," she said. "We did what we had to do."
x x x x
Their kiss was long and slow, his tongue familiar in her mouth. She took comfort in it and in every sensual memory that his body invoked as he held her.
Tickling behind his ear makes him moan, your thigh against his cock makes him kiss you harder, and he loves it when you nibble his lip.
She'd gone over these, time and time again, when she was alone down on that rock, pushing away the darkness.
He plucked free the buttons of her shirt and shed it for her. She kept her eyes closed and felt the slightest tingle of pain as his fingers pressed into her bare back, sliding up to undo her bra.
She faced him and kissed him harder when it hurt, her fingers tugging at the back of his hair.
I just won't turn around.
She knew the most incriminating evidence of what had happened was still fading across the muscles of her back, and she didn't want him to see it.
He doesn't have to see it.
She yanked up his tanks, kissing him more urgently, only stopping to pull them over his head. Her mouth searched his as she tugged at his pants and boxers until he removed them at her insistence. She was desperate, increasingly more so, to get him on top of her, to get him inside of her, to grab him and pull him close and feel the warmth of his naked body.
"Gods, I missed you," he said gruffly, his hands in her hair.
She hummed into his kiss, pulling him toward his rack. The sound of his voice made her twitch in anticipation. "I missed you too," she breathed.
His hands slid down over her ass and squeezed it. "I missed this, too," he teased as he kissed her jaw.
She felt her body tense up at his touch and she immediately pulled his hands away. He turned to look at her and she let out a breathless laugh.
Don't act like anything's wrong.
"Let's lie down," she said, her smile illusory, kissing his lower lip, nudging his mouth.
In his rack, his touch was light, almost too reverent as he removed her pants and underwear. She breathed deeply to calm the nervousness swirling in her stomach. She pretended his fingers didn't linger across the sparse yellowing bruises on her skin.
Maybe it's dark enough with only the light of the lamp.
Bill took her with his hands and his mouth, reading her body like he was memorizing it. He made her come without much of an effort, the strength of her orgasm surprising her. Her back arched as she cried out, gripping his hair as she felt her orgasm roll over her, over and over. Relaxing into the sheets, she heard his contented growl against her skin.
She grasped at his shoulders, pulling at the muscles that met his neck. "Bill, up here. Come up here and kiss me."
He crawled up her body, kissing his way up her sides, lingering where she wished he wouldn't.
He's not kissing the bruises.
His mouth found hers and it was gentle, so gentle. She lost herself in it.
"I was so worried," he began, his fingers brushing her cheek.
"Mmmm, don't," she whispered. "Not now."
She wrapped her legs around him and encouraged him with a lift of her hips. He looked into her eyes and she took him in with a moan until he met the warmth coiled deep within her.
She writhed under him, the bandage wrapped around his hand rough as it skirted down her bare thigh.
We're damaged, but we're free.
He nestled his face in her neck and she held him tightly. He rocked gently into her, back and forth. She breathed him in.
This is life.
x x x x
Ellen wakes up drowning and breaks the surface with a gasp.
At first she doesn't know where she is or even if she's alive. Her vision blurry, she sees only light surrounding her. Light and darkness. Red, blue and white. She's immersed in something, she's warm, and there's light, the bright, white light.
Until she hears the sound, that horrible whirring sound of the Centurion standing in the room that sends her heart racing the instant before she sees it. She clings to the wall of the tub. Terror overcomes her as she sobs. She scrambles to get away from it, shaking as she screams, liquid sloshing around her body.
Not again, not again. Frakking Cylons. I'd rather die. I'd rather die.
It stands motionless, except for its eye-its blip, its eye-shifting from side, to side, to side.
She looks around for help, but there's no one. No one but him.
It. Him.
The calm washes over her, a sudden and unexpected realization.
It. Him. Me.
The hazy pain in her head fades.
I'm alive.
"Will you help me up, please?" she asks him.
For the first time in a long time, she isn't afraid.
- end -
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10