Two Roads Diverged : Chapter 9
Title: Two Roads Diverged (9/10)
Author: icedteainthebag
Word Count: 34,420
Rating: MA
Pairings: John Cavil/Ellen Tigh, Ellen Tigh/Saul Tigh, Laura Roslin/Bill Adama
Warnings: Dubcon, physical violence
Summary: Sometimes we make mistakes when we think we're doing the right thing.
Notes: See Chapter One, but specific thanks on this chapter go to meryl_edan and larsfarm77.
Artist: MrsDrJackson
Link to Art: banner can be found here.
x x x x
The floor of Laura's cell grew colder as the night wore on. She stopped expecting food or a blanket. She stopped expecting to hear a voice from outside telling her it was all going to be all right, that someone was there to save her.
It's up to you to save yourself. It always has been.
But she never stopped expecting them to come back. She could still hear the echoes of her beating in her head. Her body ached, the muscles tight.
Whenever her eyes began to close, she pressed a newly formed bruise as hard as she could, the pain a reminder to stay awake.
I don't need to sleep.
She sat with her back to the cement wall. It chilled her body through her jumpsuit. She looked through the slatted window at the top of her cell and into the darkness of the night sky, the moons only beginning to rise.
Where are you?
x x x x
Ellen stood at the entrance of their tent and watched as both moons began to cross the sky. The air was cold, but she couldn't stop staring. Something about the expanse of the stars felt calming, providing a moment's respite.
Maybe that's why he always left.
She hadn't answered Saul's question.
Did you find someone else?
She didn't know how to answer it.
He, as always, had conceded his loss. He'd rolled over under the blankets and had given up on getting an answer from her.
This is it. This is us.
No matter what path she took, she always ended up back in the same place.
If only you knew what I went through for you.
x x x x
The creak of the cell door woke Laura, her cheek pressed against the floor. Her first instinct was to clamber away from whatever was entering. But then, as she looked up and saw who it was, she decided not to give him the pleasure of seeing her scramble.
She remained on the floor and tried to conceal her shivering. Cavil pulled a chair in behind him, then turned it around and sat on it backward with a sigh.
"Gaius Baltar got wind of you being in here," Cavil said, his voice reluctant. "So he said to treat you nicely. Too bad we didn't get the message earlier. My apologies."
I don't believe you.
She lifted her body with the help of one aching arm and stared at him.
It's so hard to read what's going on in your head. Maybe it's better that way.
Cavil folded his arms across the back of the chair. "So I guess what I'm here to tell you is that my Number Five most certainly won't be around for any more engaging conversation. And there are two NCP officers outside your door with direct orders from the"-he put his fingers in the air, making quotation marks-"President, not to let anyone harm you."
She took a shaky breath to compose herself for her response.
"And surely you're obeying every order the President gives you," she said, surprised at how strong her voice sounded.
"Are you questioning my respect for authority?"
"I've had a lot of time to think since my beating."
His smile widened.
You sick frak.
"Oh? And what did you think about? Mind indulging me?"
"I'm of the understanding that Cylons speak of the one true God. Doesn't your God speak of peace?"
"Don't yours?" he asked, his voice low. "Seems to me the gods-this Cylon God, your gods, whatever the frak people are believing in these days-are speaking, and nobody's listening. Luckily, we all follow the same doctrines when it comes to certain guiding principles in our lives."
"Like?" Her tone was bitter.
"Forgiveness," Cavil said with a smirk. "Forgiveness for our sins."
"Frak you," she spat, anger immediately welling inside her.
Cavil chuckled. "You have no idea how much I'd enjoy that."
Laura's eyes shifted to the door, her growling stomach roiling.
"Frankly," Cavil added, "I think forgiveness is for the weak."
You don't know how much I agree.
"Gaius frakkin' Baltar," Cavil said, his eyes drifting lower on her body. She glared at him. "What a pity we didn't get more time together, Laura."
"Get out."
"Oh, good. Exuding the authority you don't even have. See, this is exactly the type of behavior Baltar propagates with his wishy-washy philosophies on treating the prisoners fairly."
"I want him out," she said, more loudly. She watched guard step into the doorway and hover just inside.
Gaius is finally good for something.
"It was lovely," Cavil said, standing up and giving her a slight bow. "I hope those bruises heal up nicely. You'd have quite a bit of explaining to do to the Admiral. Oh," he said with a low, exaggerated laugh, "that's right, he's not here."
She watched as he exited with the officer. She suddenly felt calm, her breathing paced, as she stared at the door in front of her.
When I get out, there'll be hell to pay.
x x x x
Ellen woke in the morning and turned toward Saul, the warmth of his body comforting.
She ran her fingers along his jaw and across his lips. She was relieved to see she hadn't left a mark on his face.
Somehow, we keep on moving forward.
He stirred and she tentatively put her hand on his chest, waiting for a response.
"Morning," he grumbled. She loved the sound of his voice in the morning, right as sleep was wearing off.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, sliding her leg over his and snuggling closer. She kissed his shoulder. "I'm sorry."
He covered her hand with his, his eyes still closed.
"I know," he said, his chest rising and falling under their clasped hands. "I am, too."
x x x x
Seeing Gaius Baltar walk into her cell made Laura simultaneously furious and hopeful.
Her anger won over as he offered her a chair and tried to excuse away the fact that the Cylons with which he was so eagerly collaborating had beaten her in that very cell.
She didn't trust him at first, wary of him until he offered her glasses to her. Putting them on, observing her prison, and seeing the desperate look in his eyes made her even more irate.
Then, as quickly as her anger had spiked, the news of the suicide bombing made her nearly as queasy as the beating she'd taken from Doral.
Saul must be feeling desperate to be heard. He must be desperate to make an impact, desperate for revenge on the Cylons.
She was too, of that she was sure. But she wasn't the one telling citizens to strap bombs to their chests.
"Desperate people take desperate measures."
She tried to stand her ground, to make an excuse for the insurgency that she, at the core of its existence, believed in. Her beaten body still ached and she knew she would bear the evidence of what the Cylons had done to her for quite some time, in ways, the rest of her life. But there was no way she could defend sacrificing another life for a cause. She could barely look Gaius in the eyes as she shook her head.
He rambled on, about the NCP, about trying to protect the order amid the chaos.
She felt a surge of anger at the mention of the police and nearly leapt at him as she let loose.
"By arresting innocent people in the dead of night, detaining them indefinitely without charge, torturing them for information-"
"Nobody has been tortured." Gaius sounded near a mad panic, like he was trying to convince himself that such atrocities weren't possible.
You know that's a lie, you self-righteous bastard, you motherfrakkin' son of a-
"Tell that to Colonel Tigh."
Don't even admit it to yourself, Laura...
"Nobody has been tortured."
His was worse than anything you've endured.
In his eyes she saw a new, frightened madness she'd not seen in him before. He'd changed. The occupation was taking its toll on his sanity; she could nearly see it slipping away as he requested her shoes, obeying the dictates of his conscience.
Denial is merely a coping mechanism.
Laura's clothes were tossed at her through the open cell door, then her shoes, skipping one at a time across the cement floor like dice across a gaming table.
The door was left open. She eyed her clothes, then the door, then moved closer to them, keeping an eye out for anyone making sudden moves.
Picking up her bra and sweater, she walked over to the door and closed it, leaving it cracked slightly, then turned her back and started undressing.
There was no one awaiting her release-it was done quietly, and she rather preferred it that way. Her body was aching, the bruises fresh. She exited the detention center perimeter. The frigid air tingled on her heated cheeks.
She held her head up and walked home slowly through the perfectly aligned rows of gray tents, the ground solid under her feet.
x x x x
Days passed without incident and Saul and Ellen didn't speak about the night she hit him. She knew they often dealt with their fights in this way-pretending they never happened until sometime in the future when the same issues reared their ugly heads.
Cavil had instilled just enough fear into her that she felt like she needed to return to the detention center to see him, to ensure Saul's continued freedom. It was an unspoken agreement, but he didn't seem surprised when she entered his apartment.
She made herself believe it was the least she could do. Maybe it was penance for everything she'd done over the years. Maybe this was the only way she could keep Saul in her life.
Give yourself up.
She felt like she was stuck in an endless cycle as she headed for the showers afterward. It was all routine for her. At this point, her actions were nearly mechanized. Kiss Saul goodbye, head to the detention center. Frak a Cylon, leave, wash it all away, pretend it didn't happen, kiss Saul hello when he arrived back home. He didn't ask her any questions, she didn't offer any answers. They existed in the same space, separate as they were when he was away on Galactica, when she wanted nothing more than to have him next to her.
Now he's here, and we've never felt so distant.
Ellen entered the shower facility and found a bench in the curtained-off changing area, peeling off her clothes. She glanced over the marks on her body, some scratches fresh, some bruises faded. She heard water running. Someone was taking a shower, but she didn't much care.
She walked into the shower area and her eyes were drawn to a woman's form, her pale lower back patterned with deep purple bruises. Her long, dark hair was wet and clung to her shoulders as she stood, head bowed, the water streaking down her body and swirling down the drain.
In days past, before all of this, Ellen would have been embarrassed, even ashamed to bear witness to a woman who had been so horribly abused. Her eyes followed the line of bruises over the curve of the woman's buttocks and down her legs. She breathed shallowly, afraid of being detected.
She walked up to a shower head two spaces down and turned the dial to turn on the water, hoping for hot, finding it lukewarm yet again.
She glanced over at the woman one more time and their eyes met unexpectedly.
Laura.
Ellen's stomach lurched.
Oh my gods, what did they do to you? What did you do?
Laura's gaze moved down her body, taking in the damage Cavil had left behind. Ellen averted her eyes and felt them fill with tears. Peripherally, she saw Laura turn away from her.
Thus began her ritual, and it was always the same.
x x x x
Ellen had seen her in the showers. Had seen her naked body, had seen the bruises she knew were coloring her back, a horrifying portrait of what she'd endured.
Laura felt exposed, like she'd just revealed her darkest secrets against her own will. She'd known there was a certain risk showering during the daytime, but she didn't have a choice. If there was any way she'd go out at night before this all happened, there was no way she'd do it now.
The water felt good on her muscles, and she was not going to show up to the school looking like she'd been through the wringer.
But Ellen. Why Ellen, of all people...
She had managed, in the days since her detention, to box up her feelings about the entire incident and put them away somewhere deep inside just to survive. She still saw the bruises when she looked at her body in the lamplight before sleeping; she still felt the burning ache of the depth of her injuries, but she had pushed away her feelings about how she'd acquired them. She knew it was what she did when coping with anything painful-put it away, locked it up, forgot about it as much as she could.
But now that Ellen had seen what had happened to her, her body nearly broken-who knew who she'd tell about it. She might tell Saul. She might tell Bill.
And Bill couldn't know.
He can't ever know.
Laura Roslin, ex-President, had been beaten and didn't fight back hard enough.
Obviously couldn't defend herself. Obviously needs to be taken care of.
The weaker side of her, the part she was so good at repressing, wanted to slip into her tent and hide away until every bit of her was healed. But the resilient part of her, the part that nearly always prevailed, pressed her to take action. All she wanted to do was exact some sort of revenge upon those who hurt her.
And Ellen. And Saul. Now I know how they feel.
She wanted the Cylons to regret the day they landed on New Caprica; in fact, she knew they needed to, to prevent this endless game of cat and mouse.
And then there was Gaius... Gaius frakkin' Baltar, who let it all happen in the first place. There would be a special place in hell for him.
Her body was still aching as she made her way down the stairs into the underground bunker for the first resistance meeting since her release. It had seemed like the right thing to do, the only thing to be done. It was a familiar crew sitting around the table, blue ceramic cups set in front of them, a familiar drink for a familiar scene. She took a cup from Tyrol and drank half of it before she sat down.
There were no questions asked about what had happened to her in detention. These were gruesome secrets best kept. But she made it clear to Sam and Chief, as their eyes were transfixed upon her, that she would take an exquisite joy in killing some Cylons as retribution.
It was unrealistic, she knew, to expect herself to heal entirely from what had happened. It would always be a part of her, just like the attacks, just like her cancer. It was always there-sorrow, hopelessness, fear of its reoccurrence.
She merely tucked away as much of that emotion as she could and kept on moving forward, supported instead by her desire for vengeance and the hope that somehow still existed-the part of her that still believed Bill was coming back.
It was easier that way.
x x x x
Ellen had been thinking about Laura since they'd seen each other in the showers. It had been shocking to see Laura covered in bruises; she was fearful of what had happened to her in detention, but it wasn't her business to ask, no matter how close she thought they'd become.
As she watched Saul trying to affix the gauze patch to his face, Ellen couldn't help but feel guilty. She had someone to come home to and to comfort her, even though he didn't even realize what was going on behind his back. Saul would hold her through the night and make her feel safe. She knew, as long as she gave in to Cavil's requests, Saul wouldn't be taken.
It's a small price to pay.
Laura didn't have that. She was still alone, waiting for a Viper to streak across the sky, a theatrical announcement that Bill was back to save them all. Laura still had to sleep alone, to eat alone and to walk alone through the camp, always looking over her shoulder.
Ellen wished there was something she could do, but as she watched Saul, still struggling, she realized he needed her more than Laura did. She couldn't provide for both. She was already giving so much of herself.
It's okay. We have different roads to travel.
Ellen walked up to Saul and he didn't seem to notice her. He merely focused on the mirror in front of him-the one she hadn't looked in for so many weeks for fear of what she'd see on her own face.
Maybe I should be honest with him about everything.
It's what she'd wanted from the beginning when they settled on New Caprica. Honesty, trust. She'd let it fall apart as easily as it did before.
You always do this.
She just hoped he'd understand why she did what she did.
"I want you to know that I would do anything for you..."
The way he looked at her made her uneasy, as if he knew she was about to reveal something hurtful. She knew the look too well.
I don't love you any less…
Galen burst into their tent in a frenzy, a piece of paper clutched in his hands, interrupting the confession she was about to make.
Godsdamn it, Galen Tyrol.
Galen's frightened tirade was a blur to her and she only heard certain words and phrases as her heartbeat raced. He called the paper a death list and said Cally was on it. It was no surprise that more people were going to die; she wasn't nearly as horrified as she thought she should be. Saul wasn't on the list; at first she felt guilty but it rapidly dissipated into comfort.
She scanned the names quickly, past Cally's name, down the lists of people deemed worthy enough to be executed. She saw a few others she recognized and passed over with an unaffected stare until one name in particular made her lose her breath.
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: John Cavil/Ellen Tigh, Ellen Tigh/Saul Tigh, Laura Roslin/Bill Adama
Warnings: Dubcon, physical violence
Summary: Sometimes we make mistakes when we think we're doing the right thing.
Notes: See Chapter One, but specific thanks on this chapter go to meryl_edan and larsfarm77.
Artist: MrsDrJackson
Link to Art: banner can be found here.
x x x x
The floor of Laura's cell grew colder as the night wore on. She stopped expecting food or a blanket. She stopped expecting to hear a voice from outside telling her it was all going to be all right, that someone was there to save her.
It's up to you to save yourself. It always has been.
But she never stopped expecting them to come back. She could still hear the echoes of her beating in her head. Her body ached, the muscles tight.
Whenever her eyes began to close, she pressed a newly formed bruise as hard as she could, the pain a reminder to stay awake.
I don't need to sleep.
She sat with her back to the cement wall. It chilled her body through her jumpsuit. She looked through the slatted window at the top of her cell and into the darkness of the night sky, the moons only beginning to rise.
Where are you?
x x x x
Ellen stood at the entrance of their tent and watched as both moons began to cross the sky. The air was cold, but she couldn't stop staring. Something about the expanse of the stars felt calming, providing a moment's respite.
Maybe that's why he always left.
She hadn't answered Saul's question.
Did you find someone else?
She didn't know how to answer it.
He, as always, had conceded his loss. He'd rolled over under the blankets and had given up on getting an answer from her.
This is it. This is us.
No matter what path she took, she always ended up back in the same place.
If only you knew what I went through for you.
x x x x
The creak of the cell door woke Laura, her cheek pressed against the floor. Her first instinct was to clamber away from whatever was entering. But then, as she looked up and saw who it was, she decided not to give him the pleasure of seeing her scramble.
She remained on the floor and tried to conceal her shivering. Cavil pulled a chair in behind him, then turned it around and sat on it backward with a sigh.
"Gaius Baltar got wind of you being in here," Cavil said, his voice reluctant. "So he said to treat you nicely. Too bad we didn't get the message earlier. My apologies."
I don't believe you.
She lifted her body with the help of one aching arm and stared at him.
It's so hard to read what's going on in your head. Maybe it's better that way.
Cavil folded his arms across the back of the chair. "So I guess what I'm here to tell you is that my Number Five most certainly won't be around for any more engaging conversation. And there are two NCP officers outside your door with direct orders from the"-he put his fingers in the air, making quotation marks-"President, not to let anyone harm you."
She took a shaky breath to compose herself for her response.
"And surely you're obeying every order the President gives you," she said, surprised at how strong her voice sounded.
"Are you questioning my respect for authority?"
"I've had a lot of time to think since my beating."
His smile widened.
You sick frak.
"Oh? And what did you think about? Mind indulging me?"
"I'm of the understanding that Cylons speak of the one true God. Doesn't your God speak of peace?"
"Don't yours?" he asked, his voice low. "Seems to me the gods-this Cylon God, your gods, whatever the frak people are believing in these days-are speaking, and nobody's listening. Luckily, we all follow the same doctrines when it comes to certain guiding principles in our lives."
"Like?" Her tone was bitter.
"Forgiveness," Cavil said with a smirk. "Forgiveness for our sins."
"Frak you," she spat, anger immediately welling inside her.
Cavil chuckled. "You have no idea how much I'd enjoy that."
Laura's eyes shifted to the door, her growling stomach roiling.
"Frankly," Cavil added, "I think forgiveness is for the weak."
You don't know how much I agree.
"Gaius frakkin' Baltar," Cavil said, his eyes drifting lower on her body. She glared at him. "What a pity we didn't get more time together, Laura."
"Get out."
"Oh, good. Exuding the authority you don't even have. See, this is exactly the type of behavior Baltar propagates with his wishy-washy philosophies on treating the prisoners fairly."
"I want him out," she said, more loudly. She watched guard step into the doorway and hover just inside.
Gaius is finally good for something.
"It was lovely," Cavil said, standing up and giving her a slight bow. "I hope those bruises heal up nicely. You'd have quite a bit of explaining to do to the Admiral. Oh," he said with a low, exaggerated laugh, "that's right, he's not here."
She watched as he exited with the officer. She suddenly felt calm, her breathing paced, as she stared at the door in front of her.
When I get out, there'll be hell to pay.
x x x x
Ellen woke in the morning and turned toward Saul, the warmth of his body comforting.
She ran her fingers along his jaw and across his lips. She was relieved to see she hadn't left a mark on his face.
Somehow, we keep on moving forward.
He stirred and she tentatively put her hand on his chest, waiting for a response.
"Morning," he grumbled. She loved the sound of his voice in the morning, right as sleep was wearing off.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, sliding her leg over his and snuggling closer. She kissed his shoulder. "I'm sorry."
He covered her hand with his, his eyes still closed.
"I know," he said, his chest rising and falling under their clasped hands. "I am, too."
x x x x
Seeing Gaius Baltar walk into her cell made Laura simultaneously furious and hopeful.
Her anger won over as he offered her a chair and tried to excuse away the fact that the Cylons with which he was so eagerly collaborating had beaten her in that very cell.
She didn't trust him at first, wary of him until he offered her glasses to her. Putting them on, observing her prison, and seeing the desperate look in his eyes made her even more irate.
Then, as quickly as her anger had spiked, the news of the suicide bombing made her nearly as queasy as the beating she'd taken from Doral.
Saul must be feeling desperate to be heard. He must be desperate to make an impact, desperate for revenge on the Cylons.
She was too, of that she was sure. But she wasn't the one telling citizens to strap bombs to their chests.
"Desperate people take desperate measures."
She tried to stand her ground, to make an excuse for the insurgency that she, at the core of its existence, believed in. Her beaten body still ached and she knew she would bear the evidence of what the Cylons had done to her for quite some time, in ways, the rest of her life. But there was no way she could defend sacrificing another life for a cause. She could barely look Gaius in the eyes as she shook her head.
He rambled on, about the NCP, about trying to protect the order amid the chaos.
She felt a surge of anger at the mention of the police and nearly leapt at him as she let loose.
"By arresting innocent people in the dead of night, detaining them indefinitely without charge, torturing them for information-"
"Nobody has been tortured." Gaius sounded near a mad panic, like he was trying to convince himself that such atrocities weren't possible.
You know that's a lie, you self-righteous bastard, you motherfrakkin' son of a-
"Tell that to Colonel Tigh."
Don't even admit it to yourself, Laura...
"Nobody has been tortured."
His was worse than anything you've endured.
In his eyes she saw a new, frightened madness she'd not seen in him before. He'd changed. The occupation was taking its toll on his sanity; she could nearly see it slipping away as he requested her shoes, obeying the dictates of his conscience.
Denial is merely a coping mechanism.
Laura's clothes were tossed at her through the open cell door, then her shoes, skipping one at a time across the cement floor like dice across a gaming table.
The door was left open. She eyed her clothes, then the door, then moved closer to them, keeping an eye out for anyone making sudden moves.
Picking up her bra and sweater, she walked over to the door and closed it, leaving it cracked slightly, then turned her back and started undressing.
There was no one awaiting her release-it was done quietly, and she rather preferred it that way. Her body was aching, the bruises fresh. She exited the detention center perimeter. The frigid air tingled on her heated cheeks.
She held her head up and walked home slowly through the perfectly aligned rows of gray tents, the ground solid under her feet.
x x x x
Days passed without incident and Saul and Ellen didn't speak about the night she hit him. She knew they often dealt with their fights in this way-pretending they never happened until sometime in the future when the same issues reared their ugly heads.
Cavil had instilled just enough fear into her that she felt like she needed to return to the detention center to see him, to ensure Saul's continued freedom. It was an unspoken agreement, but he didn't seem surprised when she entered his apartment.
She made herself believe it was the least she could do. Maybe it was penance for everything she'd done over the years. Maybe this was the only way she could keep Saul in her life.
Give yourself up.
She felt like she was stuck in an endless cycle as she headed for the showers afterward. It was all routine for her. At this point, her actions were nearly mechanized. Kiss Saul goodbye, head to the detention center. Frak a Cylon, leave, wash it all away, pretend it didn't happen, kiss Saul hello when he arrived back home. He didn't ask her any questions, she didn't offer any answers. They existed in the same space, separate as they were when he was away on Galactica, when she wanted nothing more than to have him next to her.
Now he's here, and we've never felt so distant.
Ellen entered the shower facility and found a bench in the curtained-off changing area, peeling off her clothes. She glanced over the marks on her body, some scratches fresh, some bruises faded. She heard water running. Someone was taking a shower, but she didn't much care.
She walked into the shower area and her eyes were drawn to a woman's form, her pale lower back patterned with deep purple bruises. Her long, dark hair was wet and clung to her shoulders as she stood, head bowed, the water streaking down her body and swirling down the drain.
In days past, before all of this, Ellen would have been embarrassed, even ashamed to bear witness to a woman who had been so horribly abused. Her eyes followed the line of bruises over the curve of the woman's buttocks and down her legs. She breathed shallowly, afraid of being detected.
She walked up to a shower head two spaces down and turned the dial to turn on the water, hoping for hot, finding it lukewarm yet again.
She glanced over at the woman one more time and their eyes met unexpectedly.
Laura.
Ellen's stomach lurched.
Oh my gods, what did they do to you? What did you do?
Laura's gaze moved down her body, taking in the damage Cavil had left behind. Ellen averted her eyes and felt them fill with tears. Peripherally, she saw Laura turn away from her.
Thus began her ritual, and it was always the same.
x x x x
Ellen had seen her in the showers. Had seen her naked body, had seen the bruises she knew were coloring her back, a horrifying portrait of what she'd endured.
Laura felt exposed, like she'd just revealed her darkest secrets against her own will. She'd known there was a certain risk showering during the daytime, but she didn't have a choice. If there was any way she'd go out at night before this all happened, there was no way she'd do it now.
The water felt good on her muscles, and she was not going to show up to the school looking like she'd been through the wringer.
But Ellen. Why Ellen, of all people...
She had managed, in the days since her detention, to box up her feelings about the entire incident and put them away somewhere deep inside just to survive. She still saw the bruises when she looked at her body in the lamplight before sleeping; she still felt the burning ache of the depth of her injuries, but she had pushed away her feelings about how she'd acquired them. She knew it was what she did when coping with anything painful-put it away, locked it up, forgot about it as much as she could.
But now that Ellen had seen what had happened to her, her body nearly broken-who knew who she'd tell about it. She might tell Saul. She might tell Bill.
And Bill couldn't know.
He can't ever know.
Laura Roslin, ex-President, had been beaten and didn't fight back hard enough.
Obviously couldn't defend herself. Obviously needs to be taken care of.
The weaker side of her, the part she was so good at repressing, wanted to slip into her tent and hide away until every bit of her was healed. But the resilient part of her, the part that nearly always prevailed, pressed her to take action. All she wanted to do was exact some sort of revenge upon those who hurt her.
And Ellen. And Saul. Now I know how they feel.
She wanted the Cylons to regret the day they landed on New Caprica; in fact, she knew they needed to, to prevent this endless game of cat and mouse.
And then there was Gaius... Gaius frakkin' Baltar, who let it all happen in the first place. There would be a special place in hell for him.
Her body was still aching as she made her way down the stairs into the underground bunker for the first resistance meeting since her release. It had seemed like the right thing to do, the only thing to be done. It was a familiar crew sitting around the table, blue ceramic cups set in front of them, a familiar drink for a familiar scene. She took a cup from Tyrol and drank half of it before she sat down.
There were no questions asked about what had happened to her in detention. These were gruesome secrets best kept. But she made it clear to Sam and Chief, as their eyes were transfixed upon her, that she would take an exquisite joy in killing some Cylons as retribution.
It was unrealistic, she knew, to expect herself to heal entirely from what had happened. It would always be a part of her, just like the attacks, just like her cancer. It was always there-sorrow, hopelessness, fear of its reoccurrence.
She merely tucked away as much of that emotion as she could and kept on moving forward, supported instead by her desire for vengeance and the hope that somehow still existed-the part of her that still believed Bill was coming back.
It was easier that way.
x x x x
Ellen had been thinking about Laura since they'd seen each other in the showers. It had been shocking to see Laura covered in bruises; she was fearful of what had happened to her in detention, but it wasn't her business to ask, no matter how close she thought they'd become.
As she watched Saul trying to affix the gauze patch to his face, Ellen couldn't help but feel guilty. She had someone to come home to and to comfort her, even though he didn't even realize what was going on behind his back. Saul would hold her through the night and make her feel safe. She knew, as long as she gave in to Cavil's requests, Saul wouldn't be taken.
It's a small price to pay.
Laura didn't have that. She was still alone, waiting for a Viper to streak across the sky, a theatrical announcement that Bill was back to save them all. Laura still had to sleep alone, to eat alone and to walk alone through the camp, always looking over her shoulder.
Ellen wished there was something she could do, but as she watched Saul, still struggling, she realized he needed her more than Laura did. She couldn't provide for both. She was already giving so much of herself.
It's okay. We have different roads to travel.
Ellen walked up to Saul and he didn't seem to notice her. He merely focused on the mirror in front of him-the one she hadn't looked in for so many weeks for fear of what she'd see on her own face.
Maybe I should be honest with him about everything.
It's what she'd wanted from the beginning when they settled on New Caprica. Honesty, trust. She'd let it fall apart as easily as it did before.
You always do this.
She just hoped he'd understand why she did what she did.
"I want you to know that I would do anything for you..."
The way he looked at her made her uneasy, as if he knew she was about to reveal something hurtful. She knew the look too well.
I don't love you any less…
Galen burst into their tent in a frenzy, a piece of paper clutched in his hands, interrupting the confession she was about to make.
Godsdamn it, Galen Tyrol.
Galen's frightened tirade was a blur to her and she only heard certain words and phrases as her heartbeat raced. He called the paper a death list and said Cally was on it. It was no surprise that more people were going to die; she wasn't nearly as horrified as she thought she should be. Saul wasn't on the list; at first she felt guilty but it rapidly dissipated into comfort.
She scanned the names quickly, past Cally's name, down the lists of people deemed worthy enough to be executed. She saw a few others she recognized and passed over with an unaffected stare until one name in particular made her lose her breath.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10