Terra Nova - Things Lost in the Fire ch8 [Skye/Lucas]
Title: Things Lost in the Fire
Fandom: Terra Nova
Ship: Skye/Lucas
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: bad language, sexual situations, AU
Chapter: 8/?
Summary: Pre-Series. AU story. Skye meets a strange man at Snakehead Falls and ends up falling in love. But can happiness built on anonymity last, when the world around them is on fire?
Author's Note: A bit of a 'meh' chapter. But it can't be them all the time when the plot comes first.
Things Lost in the Fire
8. Realignment
Skye realized she must have dosed off after eating. It was strange how her disclosure had worked as a sedative, giving her the best sleep she'd had in years. Her dreams hadn't been as pleasant though. He'd been in them, crushing her between his hands, fire in his eyes. Skye wondered if he'd already realized she wasn't coming back, or if he still waited, his heart turning to stone. It was the last thing she'd wanted.
She cleared her throat carefully, pulling the blanket on tighter. Its warmth gave her at least some comfort in the otherwise cold cell. She shook off the last traces of sleep mere seconds later, upon realizing she wasn't alone in the room. Skye moved her head, alerted eyes pinpointing the other person in the room. It was Taylor.
He sat over a stool on the other side of her prison, leaned on his knees, protected from her by the iron bars that held them apart. She couldn't feel hostility from him, and it surprised her, having expected it. But he was calm, collected. With sadness she realized this wasn't her foster father, this was an interrogator.
"I see you're awake," Taylor commented, watching as she rose to sit on her bed. He noticed her bruised hands now, evaluated each scrape on her skin. "We should have Elizabeth check on you. The soldiers tell me you fell when they found you," he said, leading their conversation willfully.
She couldn't give him any points for worrying, because it felt superficial. Or perhaps it was her inability to accept his care in this situation. Either way, she knew her actions had consequences, and this was one of the most painful one to accept.
"What were you running from?" he asked, continuing his earlier train of thought. His fingers were rustling his beard, he held himself stiffly. He was curious, always a good sign. He would listen to what she had to say, hear her side of the story. Six months ago that would've been all she'd ask of him. Now things were more complicated.
Thirst made the words get stuck in her throat. She was probably still a bit dehydrated from her mindless run through the jungle, even when she'd drank greedily the first chance she'd gotten. Skye reached for a water bottle by her bunk bed, feeling the water refresh her once she got some in her system. Taylor waited for her answer patiently, as he was unable to look past her banged appearance in this case. With anyone else he would've already made his move, but not her, not her. She was grateful for the little things, so when she finished she gave him her attention in full again.
"I wasn't running from," Skye explained. She felt so numb. "I was running to Terra Nova, back to the construction before anyone would notice I was gone."
She ran a hand through her hair as she leaned her back against the wall, lifting her knees between them. It was a protective stance, she faced him with calmness. He would've expected her to be more erratic, nervous, yet she was acting like she was in control. How surprising.
"But someone did notice," he continued her thought, reading it from her face. "Josh Shannon was quite worried about you, so he searched for you. And when he didn't find you, we searched for you."
Skye could imagine the panic at first, slowly trading to suspicion, as the pieces began to fit in place. Lucas was the reason she hadn't thought clearly, her mind had been so wrapped in the revelation of his identity, their link. He'd really become her Achilles' heel.
"Washington told me you'd asked about Lucas, my son. Whereas Shannon denied you would've had any chance to overhear him and his wife talking about him. But even that was explainable."
The Commander spoke in a detached manner, distancing himself from the emotions, the disappointment. Skye had to wonder if this was also the way he'd handled his son's exile. The seed of truth shone in Lucas' story now, and it made her consider things in new light. However, the hope she felt was more important. Taylor hadn't mentioned the hard drive yet, perhaps it was safe?
"I didn't want to believe them, so we searched your room," he then revealed and pulled the hard drive from his pocked, showing it to her, observing her reaction. Skye couldn't hide it; the pain emerged unwittingly, her inhale was loud. And he saw the effect his reveal had in her, which in return stirred his feelings.
"You plugged this into the Eye and checked the calculations, the key to my son's victory. And then you hid them in your room and ran to their camp and back, getting caught."He was reasoning her actions, trying to understand what had happened. But the picture was incomplete still. He lacked motivation, the passion that drove her to these acts, these incomprehensible decisions.
"Help me here, Skye. I don't understand this," Taylor said, shaking his head a bit, a frown on his forehead. Every emotion he showed was downright detached, an actor saying their lines. Skye despised his behavior, wanted him to tell her how he really felt. How were they supposed to fix any of this, when he wouldn't even look her in the eye and tell her she'd screwed up?
"I've been doing this for three years now," she told him, expecting to feel shame and finding herself incapable of it. Somewhere along the line she'd reached the point of over saturation. Encouraged by this, she claimed his eyes with a drilling stare. "But when I found out who he was and what he intended, I couldn't do it."
Pride and relief swelled inside him. He'd tried his best to reason this, his senses fighting to demonize her, even if he'd known all along she wasn't bad. Misguided perhaps, but not the way his son was. It didn't mean much in this messy situation, but it was better than nothing.
"How did it start? Why would you help them?" He questioned, wanting to shake her awake from her apathy, that brave front she upheld. Surely Skye had to know the Sixers weren't going to let Terra Nova stand once they were through with it?
Skye averted her eyes for a moment, pushing back an anxious sigh. Talking about her mother hurt, just thinking of her was excruciating. "They have medicine for Sincyllic Fever," she revealed, not noticing the way his eyes lit up in the face of this unexpected revelation.
"So when my dad died, I made a deal with Mira. They took my mom and gave her this medicine. She's still alive because of it," she told him, unable to face him. She knew he wouldn't believe it at first, that he'd claim her words a lie, because it would undermine his own failure to keep his people safe. And it was OK; she understood that better than most.
"Where would they get this medicine?" he asked, giving her the clear sense that he was humoring a child, refusing to believe her.
"I didn't ask," Skye shot back, frustration building in her body.
He replied to her with disappointment, taking notice of her shifting attitude, "I see."
She noticed he was about to stand up, and her head snapped back to him, worry taking over. He'd barely even exchanged words with her, and he was already leaving? "I wasn't finished yet," she told him, the hardest secret of all burning inside her, clawing for a way out.
Taylor raised a brow, clearly thinking they were done for today. He stood up, defying her plead, almost like he wanted to show she no longer had power over him, that her tears wouldn't matter. But he didn't walk away yet; he rested his hand on the bars, hesitation all over him.
"I need to consider this in peace, Skye," he told her, a sorrowful authority peaking in his voice.
"I met a man six months ago," she countered him, hoping he would listen. And her words did stop his leaving, left him wondering what this was about.
"It was at Snakehead Falls, that time I went there alone and you came and picked me up, remember?" she recalled, actually feeling joy over this memory. It was one of the better ones from the past few years. Taylor listened to her carefully, trying to grasp what she was trying to tell him.
"We didn't know one another, but he listened to me. He restored my faith," tears snuck into the corners of her eyes, stinging as they fought to emerge. "I fell in love with him, and he fell in love with me."
He was thinking of the worst possible option: that she was seduced by some Sixer, who sought to take advantage of her trust. He swore silently he would make that man pay for hurting her, no matter what she'd done to him. In a way she was still his daughter, still one of the things he fought for.
"He would carve markings on the rocks, his life's work on display. And when he asked me to check his calculations, I said yes," she recalled, alerting him to the truth.
It vibrated through him violently, tearing every assumption to pieces. Taylor's mask fell, his shock suddenly visible. He clenched his hand to a fist, hoping she would prove his assumptions wrong. A sickness made its nest inside him, a knot of feelings he could not recognize, but what held onto him: a second skin aflame.
"But I was curious about him. And when I learned he was your son, I just didn't know anything anymore. I went to him, not knowing what to think." Talking became harder and harder, as she took notice of his rage, his utter powerlessness.
"What he told you was a lie, Skye," Taylor warned, as his hand closed around the bars forcibly. "He doesn't love you, he can't."
She hit the bed with her fist when he spoke, angry that he could tell her what Lucas felt or didn't feel. "It was real. It is real!" she yelled back, sneering at him in pain.
Taylor looked at her like she was crazy, like she'd really turned into a stranger over night. Lucas had told her it wouldn't be easy, but she hadn't expected this. Skye had honestly thought Lucas' hatred was based on delusion, something childish and repairable.
"You and my son…," Taylor said, his voice trailing off. He could not believe it. It was too strange of a coincidence, he was certain Lucas had planned this to hurt him. He didn't think his son was capable of feeling anything but hatred, his mind locked on the one emotion he could safely show. Lucas was troubled; his mind yearned for terrible things. Yet she claimed she had a genuine connection with him. Taylor just couldn't believe it was possible.
"Why does he hate you so much?" Skye asked, yearning for the truth. Lucas viewed his father through a colorless lens, unable to see anything but absolutes. She wanted to believe there was more to this story than just that. She really wanted to end this silence for all their sakes. Maybe it would mean she'd be stuck in the middle, caught in the crossfire, but wasn't it worth a shot?
Taylor looked at her with surprise, then withdrawing from her cell, turning his eyes from her. "That's not something for your ears," he told her evasively, shielding himself from reliving those horrors. He didn't feel like he owed her an explanation.
Skye watched him walk away. Something boiled inside her, she yelled after him, "Did you kill your wife!"
He recoiled, but kept going without answering.
"Did you?" she yelled again, demanding for answers. But he merely walked away.
Skye sank into her bed, overcome by the cruel rejection he'd given her. She'd lost one father already, and the thought of losing another hurt, but at the same time she recognized things had never been like that with Taylor. A strain between them had existed from the start and she hadn't minded because she'd had a secret from him too. Skye had just never considered there were secrets Taylor was keeping from her.
Wasn't family there to share the pain, to dull it down for you? Maybe he was so stuck on that life, that hidden history, that he could not talk about it in the now, knowing it was lost? Skye forced herself to look at this with logic. His wife was dead, his son trying to destroy his home and planning on killing him too. Somehow she'd just assumed they could've talked about it, let one another in. Right now she had no idea where they stood, if there was a future for her at Terra Nova anymore.
Lucas sat in the darkness. The sun had gone down, leaving a blood trail behind it, and he'd watched the dying sunset and he'd waited. In vain, it seemed.
At a distance from him, she was still screaming at delusions, for a husband long gone, at a daughter who'd abandoned her. Mira stood restlessly by him, unwilling to say what needed to be said. She had painted her face with colors, braided her hair with trophies, small bones and feathers. Lucas noticed her flinch each time the shouting started again, noticed how the fate of one sick woman seemed to bother her so. He could tell she wanted to say something, offer nature's wisdom perhaps, yet she knew to stay silent.
A few minutes later Carter exited the hut, another calm noiseless period upon them, as he began his approach. As emotionless as always, he gave Mira a slight nod and turned to Lucas, wiping his hands clean on a worn tissue. "She's out cold, couldn't risk her screaming through the night," he explained, gaining an approving look from his leader.
"How much did you use?" Mira asked, careful not to sound too disapproving. She understood why Carter had used some of their very short supply of tranquilizers on that woman, but knew with perfect clarity that this could not go on. Deborah Tate was becoming dead weight, especially now since their spy had been caught.
"Few drops," Carter responded, probably belittling the truth a bit. Mira was used to his generous estimates though, and added some to the calculations she was running in her head. They were low on supplies and burdened with a perhaps terminally sick woman, who was of no use to them. Had Deborah not been with them for over three years, Mira would've left her already.
Yet attachments had been formed despite the peculiar nature of their responsibilities for one another. Mira knew their medic had been hoping she'd be cured, even after it became apparent that Deborah had come to them a little too late for the medicine to work miracles. She also knew what Lucas would say, should she suggest leaving her behind. He had a strange penchant for the weak, and she'd seen him by her bedside more than once. It also didn't help that he knew it would a bad move if he wanted Skye to ever look at him again.
"Just say it, Mira," Lucas requested softly, his voice almost caressing. He had been surprisingly calm through-out this ordeal, listening to the trackers sensibly when they had told him Skye had been caught, and even admitting to Mira she'd been right. His calmness was deceptive though, she was certain the façade would fall rather sooner than later and hoped she was nowhere near him then.
"We can't help her," Mira said, having thought her choice of her words long and hard. "She will die in pain if she stays with us."
Lucas snorted at her words, realizing how she avoided the issue, danced around it, hoping he wouldn't notice. She was good at it though, good at diversion, spinning the truth. He glanced over at Carter; saw that he shared her opinion. Then again Carter hardly ever disagreed with Mira. Theirs was a largely mute companionship, but a working relationship nevertheless.
"We don't have the technology to diagnose her and treat her accordingly," Carter said, supporting Mira, even if he wasn't as interested in their guest's fate as his superiors were.
Surprisingly Lucas rose, on a seemingly good mood. "You're right, both of you," he complimented them, giving each an approving glance in his own crooked way, leaving them unsure of what was going on.
By now everyone knew the rumors, how he'd lost his cool around a girl, their spy. And anyone would've been close enough to hear parts of their heated argument, knew it wasn't just business either. Mira above all knew what should've been up, because she knew the lengths this man would go for that girl, so seeing him treat the news of her mother's worsening condition with such a light heart just didn't click.
"Deborah Tate needs proper medical care, which is something she will only receive in Terra Nova," Lucas then announced, pausing to see their reactions. There was a short-lived relief, a flicker of curiosity, and then the realization that Lucas had something on his mind.
"Are we simply handing her over?" Carter asked, uncertain, whether he should be troubled by this turn of events. He felt tempted to consult Mira, yet held his impulse back. It wasn't like Mira could argue against Lucas with more success than anyone else.
"No," Mira said, clearly catching onto Lucas' ploy. "He wants to trade."
Lucas flashed a smile at Mira, positively surprised she could read him this well. "Yes, that is my intention. We give them Deborah and the medicine, which they will have to perfect in order to save her, and then we take the fruits of their labor and then some," he explained, already enjoying his gambit. He would detract greater enjoyment from watching his father succumb to it, give him what he needed for the good of others.
Mira saw something else there as well, yet chose to keep her mouth until Carter left. She had had better success reaching Lucas when they were alone. Lucas wasn't an easy person to accustom to, and he also took his time accustoming with others. Carter wasn't someone Lucas would relax around.
Carter eyed them in turns for orders, ready to comply once they were spoken aloud. To him it was strange how Lucas always seemed to find the elusive options in situations where others could only see the two obvious choices. What Lucas lacked in his people skills, he certainly had in intelligence. A physicist that was capable of thinking outside the box, of surviving in these conditions, of igniting this guerilla war against Terra Nova - he certainly was a man of surprises. His accomplishments didn't make Carter like him any better, but there was respect. Lucas was the man who would get them all home one day.
"Weapons?" Mira asked, hesitant a bit. Lucas shook his head though, his face gaining a tired dimension. For a second he actually looked his rather young age. "No, he will never go for that. But supplies, medicine, food, he will accept them."
"Shall I prepare Deborah for transport?" Carter asked eager to remove this problem from their lives.
"No, we'll make contact tomorrow," Mira instructed before Lucas had a chance to say otherwise. She wasn't making another move tonight, and neither was Lucas, if she had a say in it. Mira signaled Carter away with her eyes, noticing the way Lucas subtly reacted to her taking command.
Lucas closed his eyes for a moment, reaching for his forehead with his hand. The cut from earlier was still painful. He didn't mind Carter leaving or Mira's interest in him. He was exhausted and wanted sleep, but his body repelled the thought of lying down on his bed when it still smelled like her. His thoughts would circle her, their argument, her leaving and sleep would evade him. Was it too much to ask to be able to push her away for just a few hours, for some undisturbed rest?
Once Mira was sure no one was within hearing range of them, she sat down on a stool, exhaling visibly. "You want to trade for her," she said, finding his attachment more and more frightening.
Lucas didn't deny it, as it was his intention. Two birds with one stone. It wasn't like his father wanted her now that she was tainted by betrayal. But Lucas did. He wanted her more than before; believed this ordeal would open her eyes, show her the true faces of his father and the citizens of her precious Terra Nova.
"She's not a sick cripple, so either way we'll win," he reminded her with a smile, fully aware of the implications of her tone of voice.
Mira sought to protect her flock, to keep on fighting until Lucas was done and the gates to heaven would open again. Skye was a complication she hadn't asked for.
"You're not what they told me you would be," Mira said, delving into the past for the first time since they'd met. She recalled that time quite clearly; being sick, weak, treated by him. They - Sixers - had been a crew thrown together only by money, and once their plans had gone south, there had been a power struggle.
Mira knew now she would've not made it, if it weren't for Lucas' support. He'd seen something in her, something worth keeping around. Because she knew their employers wouldn't have cared if she'd died sick in the jungle. There had been many eager to replace her. Lucas had come to her aid unexpectedly and stayed by her side. His care had been clinical, without true compassion, yet he had fixed her, made her into a leader in his absence.
Their employers had warned her about him later on, told her to give him all the help he needed. They said he was a man without a conscience, a bastard son in it for personal reasons, but along the years she'd seen his true self shine through. Underneath it all, he was soft, almost despicably soft.
Lucas didn't mind her observation, he welcomed it. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Mira hurried to correct him though, "It's not one."
It seemed to pierce this illusion he upheld, this mood he'd chosen. Mira saw the Lucas Taylor she knew creep into his eyes, a predatory shine became visible.
"You don't think straight when it comes to her. You make dangerous decisions for us all. And that makes you a liability," she explained, touching the small scar on her throat almost absent mindedly. He noticed the gesture though, for his eyes found that scar easily. Lucas wanted to deny her words, yet couldn't.
"I know," he simply stated, surprising her with his frankness. Mira was about to say something, when he cut her off forcibly, "That's why you're here: To keep me in check."
Hostility had crept back into his voice, but this time she didn't coward before him. Mira's eyes remained distrustful, openly disapproving. "You touch me again, and I will kick your teeth in," she barked at him, only succeeding in amusing him. Apparently the time for tiptoeing was over.
"We're very close now Lucas, your dream and mine are almost at hand. Yet you trusted her with the most important task and she didn't deliver," she muttered with vexation. "If you bring her back, please, for all our sakes, keep her at a distance."
"Is that what you're worried about?" Lucas asked honestly, giving into his fatigue. Then she saw a glimpse his darker self, a reminder of what he was truly capable of. He leaned in closer to her, keeping his voice down. "You should know by now that I don't take kindly to traitors."
He didn't bother to say more. Mira's face revealed him all he needed to know. She no longer feared she would be caught in the flood of his rage, no, Skye would be the one. One way or another Lucas would find a way to punish her.
"What if your father forgives her and refuses to trade her?" Mira questioned, basing her assumptions on her knowledge of the Commander. Taylor still loved his son after everything. In contrast Skye's sins were modest.
"He won't, trust me," Lucas settled to say, certain of his words.
"I guess we'll see tomorrow," Mira responded, his doubts lingering.
"I guess we will."
TBC
Fandom: Terra Nova
Ship: Skye/Lucas
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: bad language, sexual situations, AU
Chapter: 8/?
Summary: Pre-Series. AU story. Skye meets a strange man at Snakehead Falls and ends up falling in love. But can happiness built on anonymity last, when the world around them is on fire?
Author's Note: A bit of a 'meh' chapter. But it can't be them all the time when the plot comes first.
Things Lost in the Fire
8. Realignment
Skye realized she must have dosed off after eating. It was strange how her disclosure had worked as a sedative, giving her the best sleep she'd had in years. Her dreams hadn't been as pleasant though. He'd been in them, crushing her between his hands, fire in his eyes. Skye wondered if he'd already realized she wasn't coming back, or if he still waited, his heart turning to stone. It was the last thing she'd wanted.
She cleared her throat carefully, pulling the blanket on tighter. Its warmth gave her at least some comfort in the otherwise cold cell. She shook off the last traces of sleep mere seconds later, upon realizing she wasn't alone in the room. Skye moved her head, alerted eyes pinpointing the other person in the room. It was Taylor.
He sat over a stool on the other side of her prison, leaned on his knees, protected from her by the iron bars that held them apart. She couldn't feel hostility from him, and it surprised her, having expected it. But he was calm, collected. With sadness she realized this wasn't her foster father, this was an interrogator.
"I see you're awake," Taylor commented, watching as she rose to sit on her bed. He noticed her bruised hands now, evaluated each scrape on her skin. "We should have Elizabeth check on you. The soldiers tell me you fell when they found you," he said, leading their conversation willfully.
She couldn't give him any points for worrying, because it felt superficial. Or perhaps it was her inability to accept his care in this situation. Either way, she knew her actions had consequences, and this was one of the most painful one to accept.
"What were you running from?" he asked, continuing his earlier train of thought. His fingers were rustling his beard, he held himself stiffly. He was curious, always a good sign. He would listen to what she had to say, hear her side of the story. Six months ago that would've been all she'd ask of him. Now things were more complicated.
Thirst made the words get stuck in her throat. She was probably still a bit dehydrated from her mindless run through the jungle, even when she'd drank greedily the first chance she'd gotten. Skye reached for a water bottle by her bunk bed, feeling the water refresh her once she got some in her system. Taylor waited for her answer patiently, as he was unable to look past her banged appearance in this case. With anyone else he would've already made his move, but not her, not her. She was grateful for the little things, so when she finished she gave him her attention in full again.
"I wasn't running from," Skye explained. She felt so numb. "I was running to Terra Nova, back to the construction before anyone would notice I was gone."
She ran a hand through her hair as she leaned her back against the wall, lifting her knees between them. It was a protective stance, she faced him with calmness. He would've expected her to be more erratic, nervous, yet she was acting like she was in control. How surprising.
"But someone did notice," he continued her thought, reading it from her face. "Josh Shannon was quite worried about you, so he searched for you. And when he didn't find you, we searched for you."
Skye could imagine the panic at first, slowly trading to suspicion, as the pieces began to fit in place. Lucas was the reason she hadn't thought clearly, her mind had been so wrapped in the revelation of his identity, their link. He'd really become her Achilles' heel.
"Washington told me you'd asked about Lucas, my son. Whereas Shannon denied you would've had any chance to overhear him and his wife talking about him. But even that was explainable."
The Commander spoke in a detached manner, distancing himself from the emotions, the disappointment. Skye had to wonder if this was also the way he'd handled his son's exile. The seed of truth shone in Lucas' story now, and it made her consider things in new light. However, the hope she felt was more important. Taylor hadn't mentioned the hard drive yet, perhaps it was safe?
"I didn't want to believe them, so we searched your room," he then revealed and pulled the hard drive from his pocked, showing it to her, observing her reaction. Skye couldn't hide it; the pain emerged unwittingly, her inhale was loud. And he saw the effect his reveal had in her, which in return stirred his feelings.
"You plugged this into the Eye and checked the calculations, the key to my son's victory. And then you hid them in your room and ran to their camp and back, getting caught."He was reasoning her actions, trying to understand what had happened. But the picture was incomplete still. He lacked motivation, the passion that drove her to these acts, these incomprehensible decisions.
"Help me here, Skye. I don't understand this," Taylor said, shaking his head a bit, a frown on his forehead. Every emotion he showed was downright detached, an actor saying their lines. Skye despised his behavior, wanted him to tell her how he really felt. How were they supposed to fix any of this, when he wouldn't even look her in the eye and tell her she'd screwed up?
"I've been doing this for three years now," she told him, expecting to feel shame and finding herself incapable of it. Somewhere along the line she'd reached the point of over saturation. Encouraged by this, she claimed his eyes with a drilling stare. "But when I found out who he was and what he intended, I couldn't do it."
Pride and relief swelled inside him. He'd tried his best to reason this, his senses fighting to demonize her, even if he'd known all along she wasn't bad. Misguided perhaps, but not the way his son was. It didn't mean much in this messy situation, but it was better than nothing.
"How did it start? Why would you help them?" He questioned, wanting to shake her awake from her apathy, that brave front she upheld. Surely Skye had to know the Sixers weren't going to let Terra Nova stand once they were through with it?
Skye averted her eyes for a moment, pushing back an anxious sigh. Talking about her mother hurt, just thinking of her was excruciating. "They have medicine for Sincyllic Fever," she revealed, not noticing the way his eyes lit up in the face of this unexpected revelation.
"So when my dad died, I made a deal with Mira. They took my mom and gave her this medicine. She's still alive because of it," she told him, unable to face him. She knew he wouldn't believe it at first, that he'd claim her words a lie, because it would undermine his own failure to keep his people safe. And it was OK; she understood that better than most.
"Where would they get this medicine?" he asked, giving her the clear sense that he was humoring a child, refusing to believe her.
"I didn't ask," Skye shot back, frustration building in her body.
He replied to her with disappointment, taking notice of her shifting attitude, "I see."
She noticed he was about to stand up, and her head snapped back to him, worry taking over. He'd barely even exchanged words with her, and he was already leaving? "I wasn't finished yet," she told him, the hardest secret of all burning inside her, clawing for a way out.
Taylor raised a brow, clearly thinking they were done for today. He stood up, defying her plead, almost like he wanted to show she no longer had power over him, that her tears wouldn't matter. But he didn't walk away yet; he rested his hand on the bars, hesitation all over him.
"I need to consider this in peace, Skye," he told her, a sorrowful authority peaking in his voice.
"I met a man six months ago," she countered him, hoping he would listen. And her words did stop his leaving, left him wondering what this was about.
"It was at Snakehead Falls, that time I went there alone and you came and picked me up, remember?" she recalled, actually feeling joy over this memory. It was one of the better ones from the past few years. Taylor listened to her carefully, trying to grasp what she was trying to tell him.
"We didn't know one another, but he listened to me. He restored my faith," tears snuck into the corners of her eyes, stinging as they fought to emerge. "I fell in love with him, and he fell in love with me."
He was thinking of the worst possible option: that she was seduced by some Sixer, who sought to take advantage of her trust. He swore silently he would make that man pay for hurting her, no matter what she'd done to him. In a way she was still his daughter, still one of the things he fought for.
"He would carve markings on the rocks, his life's work on display. And when he asked me to check his calculations, I said yes," she recalled, alerting him to the truth.
It vibrated through him violently, tearing every assumption to pieces. Taylor's mask fell, his shock suddenly visible. He clenched his hand to a fist, hoping she would prove his assumptions wrong. A sickness made its nest inside him, a knot of feelings he could not recognize, but what held onto him: a second skin aflame.
"But I was curious about him. And when I learned he was your son, I just didn't know anything anymore. I went to him, not knowing what to think." Talking became harder and harder, as she took notice of his rage, his utter powerlessness.
"What he told you was a lie, Skye," Taylor warned, as his hand closed around the bars forcibly. "He doesn't love you, he can't."
She hit the bed with her fist when he spoke, angry that he could tell her what Lucas felt or didn't feel. "It was real. It is real!" she yelled back, sneering at him in pain.
Taylor looked at her like she was crazy, like she'd really turned into a stranger over night. Lucas had told her it wouldn't be easy, but she hadn't expected this. Skye had honestly thought Lucas' hatred was based on delusion, something childish and repairable.
"You and my son…," Taylor said, his voice trailing off. He could not believe it. It was too strange of a coincidence, he was certain Lucas had planned this to hurt him. He didn't think his son was capable of feeling anything but hatred, his mind locked on the one emotion he could safely show. Lucas was troubled; his mind yearned for terrible things. Yet she claimed she had a genuine connection with him. Taylor just couldn't believe it was possible.
"Why does he hate you so much?" Skye asked, yearning for the truth. Lucas viewed his father through a colorless lens, unable to see anything but absolutes. She wanted to believe there was more to this story than just that. She really wanted to end this silence for all their sakes. Maybe it would mean she'd be stuck in the middle, caught in the crossfire, but wasn't it worth a shot?
Taylor looked at her with surprise, then withdrawing from her cell, turning his eyes from her. "That's not something for your ears," he told her evasively, shielding himself from reliving those horrors. He didn't feel like he owed her an explanation.
Skye watched him walk away. Something boiled inside her, she yelled after him, "Did you kill your wife!"
He recoiled, but kept going without answering.
"Did you?" she yelled again, demanding for answers. But he merely walked away.
Skye sank into her bed, overcome by the cruel rejection he'd given her. She'd lost one father already, and the thought of losing another hurt, but at the same time she recognized things had never been like that with Taylor. A strain between them had existed from the start and she hadn't minded because she'd had a secret from him too. Skye had just never considered there were secrets Taylor was keeping from her.
Wasn't family there to share the pain, to dull it down for you? Maybe he was so stuck on that life, that hidden history, that he could not talk about it in the now, knowing it was lost? Skye forced herself to look at this with logic. His wife was dead, his son trying to destroy his home and planning on killing him too. Somehow she'd just assumed they could've talked about it, let one another in. Right now she had no idea where they stood, if there was a future for her at Terra Nova anymore.
Lucas sat in the darkness. The sun had gone down, leaving a blood trail behind it, and he'd watched the dying sunset and he'd waited. In vain, it seemed.
At a distance from him, she was still screaming at delusions, for a husband long gone, at a daughter who'd abandoned her. Mira stood restlessly by him, unwilling to say what needed to be said. She had painted her face with colors, braided her hair with trophies, small bones and feathers. Lucas noticed her flinch each time the shouting started again, noticed how the fate of one sick woman seemed to bother her so. He could tell she wanted to say something, offer nature's wisdom perhaps, yet she knew to stay silent.
A few minutes later Carter exited the hut, another calm noiseless period upon them, as he began his approach. As emotionless as always, he gave Mira a slight nod and turned to Lucas, wiping his hands clean on a worn tissue. "She's out cold, couldn't risk her screaming through the night," he explained, gaining an approving look from his leader.
"How much did you use?" Mira asked, careful not to sound too disapproving. She understood why Carter had used some of their very short supply of tranquilizers on that woman, but knew with perfect clarity that this could not go on. Deborah Tate was becoming dead weight, especially now since their spy had been caught.
"Few drops," Carter responded, probably belittling the truth a bit. Mira was used to his generous estimates though, and added some to the calculations she was running in her head. They were low on supplies and burdened with a perhaps terminally sick woman, who was of no use to them. Had Deborah not been with them for over three years, Mira would've left her already.
Yet attachments had been formed despite the peculiar nature of their responsibilities for one another. Mira knew their medic had been hoping she'd be cured, even after it became apparent that Deborah had come to them a little too late for the medicine to work miracles. She also knew what Lucas would say, should she suggest leaving her behind. He had a strange penchant for the weak, and she'd seen him by her bedside more than once. It also didn't help that he knew it would a bad move if he wanted Skye to ever look at him again.
"Just say it, Mira," Lucas requested softly, his voice almost caressing. He had been surprisingly calm through-out this ordeal, listening to the trackers sensibly when they had told him Skye had been caught, and even admitting to Mira she'd been right. His calmness was deceptive though, she was certain the façade would fall rather sooner than later and hoped she was nowhere near him then.
"We can't help her," Mira said, having thought her choice of her words long and hard. "She will die in pain if she stays with us."
Lucas snorted at her words, realizing how she avoided the issue, danced around it, hoping he wouldn't notice. She was good at it though, good at diversion, spinning the truth. He glanced over at Carter; saw that he shared her opinion. Then again Carter hardly ever disagreed with Mira. Theirs was a largely mute companionship, but a working relationship nevertheless.
"We don't have the technology to diagnose her and treat her accordingly," Carter said, supporting Mira, even if he wasn't as interested in their guest's fate as his superiors were.
Surprisingly Lucas rose, on a seemingly good mood. "You're right, both of you," he complimented them, giving each an approving glance in his own crooked way, leaving them unsure of what was going on.
By now everyone knew the rumors, how he'd lost his cool around a girl, their spy. And anyone would've been close enough to hear parts of their heated argument, knew it wasn't just business either. Mira above all knew what should've been up, because she knew the lengths this man would go for that girl, so seeing him treat the news of her mother's worsening condition with such a light heart just didn't click.
"Deborah Tate needs proper medical care, which is something she will only receive in Terra Nova," Lucas then announced, pausing to see their reactions. There was a short-lived relief, a flicker of curiosity, and then the realization that Lucas had something on his mind.
"Are we simply handing her over?" Carter asked, uncertain, whether he should be troubled by this turn of events. He felt tempted to consult Mira, yet held his impulse back. It wasn't like Mira could argue against Lucas with more success than anyone else.
"No," Mira said, clearly catching onto Lucas' ploy. "He wants to trade."
Lucas flashed a smile at Mira, positively surprised she could read him this well. "Yes, that is my intention. We give them Deborah and the medicine, which they will have to perfect in order to save her, and then we take the fruits of their labor and then some," he explained, already enjoying his gambit. He would detract greater enjoyment from watching his father succumb to it, give him what he needed for the good of others.
Mira saw something else there as well, yet chose to keep her mouth until Carter left. She had had better success reaching Lucas when they were alone. Lucas wasn't an easy person to accustom to, and he also took his time accustoming with others. Carter wasn't someone Lucas would relax around.
Carter eyed them in turns for orders, ready to comply once they were spoken aloud. To him it was strange how Lucas always seemed to find the elusive options in situations where others could only see the two obvious choices. What Lucas lacked in his people skills, he certainly had in intelligence. A physicist that was capable of thinking outside the box, of surviving in these conditions, of igniting this guerilla war against Terra Nova - he certainly was a man of surprises. His accomplishments didn't make Carter like him any better, but there was respect. Lucas was the man who would get them all home one day.
"Weapons?" Mira asked, hesitant a bit. Lucas shook his head though, his face gaining a tired dimension. For a second he actually looked his rather young age. "No, he will never go for that. But supplies, medicine, food, he will accept them."
"Shall I prepare Deborah for transport?" Carter asked eager to remove this problem from their lives.
"No, we'll make contact tomorrow," Mira instructed before Lucas had a chance to say otherwise. She wasn't making another move tonight, and neither was Lucas, if she had a say in it. Mira signaled Carter away with her eyes, noticing the way Lucas subtly reacted to her taking command.
Lucas closed his eyes for a moment, reaching for his forehead with his hand. The cut from earlier was still painful. He didn't mind Carter leaving or Mira's interest in him. He was exhausted and wanted sleep, but his body repelled the thought of lying down on his bed when it still smelled like her. His thoughts would circle her, their argument, her leaving and sleep would evade him. Was it too much to ask to be able to push her away for just a few hours, for some undisturbed rest?
Once Mira was sure no one was within hearing range of them, she sat down on a stool, exhaling visibly. "You want to trade for her," she said, finding his attachment more and more frightening.
Lucas didn't deny it, as it was his intention. Two birds with one stone. It wasn't like his father wanted her now that she was tainted by betrayal. But Lucas did. He wanted her more than before; believed this ordeal would open her eyes, show her the true faces of his father and the citizens of her precious Terra Nova.
"She's not a sick cripple, so either way we'll win," he reminded her with a smile, fully aware of the implications of her tone of voice.
Mira sought to protect her flock, to keep on fighting until Lucas was done and the gates to heaven would open again. Skye was a complication she hadn't asked for.
"You're not what they told me you would be," Mira said, delving into the past for the first time since they'd met. She recalled that time quite clearly; being sick, weak, treated by him. They - Sixers - had been a crew thrown together only by money, and once their plans had gone south, there had been a power struggle.
Mira knew now she would've not made it, if it weren't for Lucas' support. He'd seen something in her, something worth keeping around. Because she knew their employers wouldn't have cared if she'd died sick in the jungle. There had been many eager to replace her. Lucas had come to her aid unexpectedly and stayed by her side. His care had been clinical, without true compassion, yet he had fixed her, made her into a leader in his absence.
Their employers had warned her about him later on, told her to give him all the help he needed. They said he was a man without a conscience, a bastard son in it for personal reasons, but along the years she'd seen his true self shine through. Underneath it all, he was soft, almost despicably soft.
Lucas didn't mind her observation, he welcomed it. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Mira hurried to correct him though, "It's not one."
It seemed to pierce this illusion he upheld, this mood he'd chosen. Mira saw the Lucas Taylor she knew creep into his eyes, a predatory shine became visible.
"You don't think straight when it comes to her. You make dangerous decisions for us all. And that makes you a liability," she explained, touching the small scar on her throat almost absent mindedly. He noticed the gesture though, for his eyes found that scar easily. Lucas wanted to deny her words, yet couldn't.
"I know," he simply stated, surprising her with his frankness. Mira was about to say something, when he cut her off forcibly, "That's why you're here: To keep me in check."
Hostility had crept back into his voice, but this time she didn't coward before him. Mira's eyes remained distrustful, openly disapproving. "You touch me again, and I will kick your teeth in," she barked at him, only succeeding in amusing him. Apparently the time for tiptoeing was over.
"We're very close now Lucas, your dream and mine are almost at hand. Yet you trusted her with the most important task and she didn't deliver," she muttered with vexation. "If you bring her back, please, for all our sakes, keep her at a distance."
"Is that what you're worried about?" Lucas asked honestly, giving into his fatigue. Then she saw a glimpse his darker self, a reminder of what he was truly capable of. He leaned in closer to her, keeping his voice down. "You should know by now that I don't take kindly to traitors."
He didn't bother to say more. Mira's face revealed him all he needed to know. She no longer feared she would be caught in the flood of his rage, no, Skye would be the one. One way or another Lucas would find a way to punish her.
"What if your father forgives her and refuses to trade her?" Mira questioned, basing her assumptions on her knowledge of the Commander. Taylor still loved his son after everything. In contrast Skye's sins were modest.
"He won't, trust me," Lucas settled to say, certain of his words.
"I guess we'll see tomorrow," Mira responded, his doubts lingering.
"I guess we will."
TBC