Terra Nova - Things Lost in the Fire ch28 [Skye/Lucas]
Title: Things Lost in the Fire
Fandom: Terra Nova
Ship: Skye/Lucas
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: bad language, sexual situations, AU
Chapter: 28/?
Summary: 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: Only 2-3 chapters left. Although I have enjoyed writing this fic immensely, I have to say I will be glad when this task is done. Feels like everything else but Lucas/Skye has hijacked this story, when it was supposed to be about them. Strange how things work out, isn't it? Well I won't apologize for the Carter & Mira scenes. These characters grew on me all on their own.
Things Lost in the Fire
28. A Burning Heart
Mira rode with the others. She sat in the passenger seat with her gaze pointed at the dry land and the dust their approach sent flying across it. You could see their coming from miles away on the plain fields that surrounded Terra Nova, but for once it did not bother her. She wanted to announce her arrival loud and clear. She had learned subtlety, trained in choosing her words, muffling her cries. Not today. Today she wouldn't play pliant any longer.
It was afternoon by the time they closed in on their destination. The sun scorched everything in its path, and her body surrendered to its might, leaving her exhausted and covered in sweat. By now she functioned on determination alone. After a half-slept night, her mood was anything but rational, and her ears were still bothered by the sound of waves, this raging sea that had been Morris' final gift to her.
The others carried weapons, surveyed their surroundings with unease. All she had was her knife; all she searched for were the men responsible. If Carter was dead, there would no negotiation, no parley to save them. She would cross the line with no one to hold her back this time, no one to tell her to stop in time.
They stopped at a distance from the colony, formed a row of vehicles that stood out like sore thumb on the long empty plains. Mira climbed out of her rover and walked away from the rest towards the gates alone. She saw the guns in the towers, the alerted guards that tried to evaluate her intentions, and carried on in spite of them. When they began to yell ultimatums at her from their towers, she stopped. Slowly, she lifted her arms up to show she was unarmed.
"Taylor!" she yelled from the bottom of her lungs, urging him to come outside, come face her.
"Taylor, you come outside!" she dared him, knowing the sly old fox was too curious to kill her, too curious to notice her despair. That's what she would use against him; it was the only way she could win anymore.
With her hands still raised she stopped her approach, eyes cast on the front gate of the settlement. She wasn't the soft woman who'd once walked through those gates with a smile; Taylor had forced her out, carved her into something else. Life had complicated things, turned simple plans into a spiral of bad luck and suffering, a mission into an eking life out there.
This was the end of the road, the turning point where she realized she had strived for something better because of him all along.
As the dust landed by their rovers and the afternoon sun burned her skin relentlessly, she continued to call for Nathaniel Taylor. The No-Man's-Land between Terra Nova's gate and their troops was the loneliest place in the world, a wasteland of dreams. The wait was his silent taunt to her, a stigma of unimportance, but she withstood it. Mira knew the road to awe was paved with suffering.
But in the end, Taylor arrived to prove her patience was rewarded. He appeared into view suddenly, alone like Mira, and walked onwards slowly to greet her, making no audible sound yet. He too had known little rest in this past week, sleeping with one eye open, dreading for an attack. A week should've been nothing compared to the five long years he had waited for this day, and still knowing it was coming had paralyzed him.
Mira was a vision of disorder before his eyes. He frowned upon seeing this once proud and unreadable woman so visibly shaken, but he continued onwards to meet her, knowing backing out was no longer an option. Mira always came for her people, always suggested a trade. This time it didn't look as if she had anything to trade with. It only piqued his interest further.
As he came closer, Mira recognized the dark rings around his eyes, smelled the sweat from his clothes. He'd suffered a long night catching the people she loved, caging them and interrogating them. Her heart knew no sympathy for him at this time.
"Mira," Taylor finally spoke, reaching the speaking distance. He stopped in her presence, scorched by the violent sun.
"Three years, Taylor," she said harshly, her tone insinuating how she was done with playing games. "Three years you've carried a bullet for me."
"No one was harmed, Mira. We captured your team. The ones that needed medical attention have received it," Taylor hurried to assure her, realizing the implication of her words. He didn't desire hostility at this time, not when he doubted the need to continue battling.
For a second there it looked as if though she felt relief, let the aggression slip away. She almost smiled; her shoulders relaxed, and she even took a step closer with a hopeful stare. He let his guard down, unable to believe that this worn woman would act against him now. Both Lucas and Skye had been telling him the fighting was over, and Mira seemed ready to lay down her arms and request mercy as they had. Taylor realized he would gladly embrace her surrender.
Yet Mira was swift with making a u-turn; she charged at him, hitting his face with her own to blind him. Taylor was flooded with the pain and shock from the sudden headbutt. He staggered backwards without a clear view, and felt her grab him by his shoulders. Her grip was strong, piercing. She then flipped him around violently and pushed a blade over his throat.
Mira pressed her lips to his ear, hissing, "If you wanted me, you should've shot me, Taylor." She held him still, locked one of his arms behind his back and stood close enough to him to press against his back. Taylor blinked, trying to regain his eyesight.
How had this happened? How had she just gotten the jump on him so easily? He realized his mind was distraught, filled with the words of his children who had hoped to lead him astray. They had been eager to convince him the Sixers were no longer a threat, and while he had denied it, hadn't his heart wanted to believe it? Didn't he desire a happy ending as well? The blade that hovered over his throat was direct proof how foolish such hopes were.
A warrior, a vengeful Fury: those were the images he got from her. Nothing about her spoke of the same peace Lucas and Skye had talked about. This was personal for Mira now, this was revenge.
"You'd better hope Carter makes it," she whispered to him, pushing him onwards as she clarified the source of her anger. Mira pried his gun from its holster and tossed it on the ground.
"Will you kill me?" he asked her calmly. No answer would surprise him. Mira had indeed tried to harm him many times in the past, always failing. Now nothing stood in her way.
"No," she answered. "You're my shield. You're going to take me to Terra Nova. You're going to release them all."
He didn't protest against her logic for the plan was ludicrous. She would've had better luck in keeping him hostage since he'd fallen for her trap. But then he realized she didn't care too much for her wellbeing at this time, having approached him with such carelessness. He'd driven her to the edge.
Something clicked; if there was an army, wouldn't she wait for it? No, instead she came here, pressed a knife over his throat and asked him to walk them both inside enemy lines - for what? To see her second again: The man who had emerged from the portal with a gunshot wound?
"Move it," she breathed heavily into his ear, pushing him onwards. They began to move in unison, the knife still hovering by his throat.
"It wasn't us who shot Carter, Mira," Taylor told her as they reached the gate and proceeded to enter the colony together. His soldiers waited inside, guns pointed at his aggressor.
"Hold your fire!" he instructed his soldiers. Mira hesitated, tensing at the sight of the enemy horde. She scanned her surrounding, realizing she stood little chance, but then she continued the charade anyway, alarming Taylor further.
She was alone, exposed, moving into the heart of enemy territory. Her plans had nothing to do with sense, and everything to do with need, he realized.
"Why don't I show you?" he suggested softly, turning towards the road to the infirmary.
Mira counted the soldiers, witnessed their eagerness to act and knew they could've shot her already. Taylor was keeping them from it, her exhausted mind knew as much. She could let them have their desire, die a martyr. She could harm this man, her true adversary, and know that at least something had gone right. Or she could believe him when he said it hadn't been them who'd hurt Carter. She could try and trust her enemy, and continue this strange act they had established in the span of the past three years.
She felt a pain in her chest as she realized there was only one option she could take. All other roads would leave Sienna alone, and she had already taken that road once in her life. Never again, she'd vowed. Would that promise become meaningless in the face of revenge?
"Let's go," she said, letting him lead the way. If Carter had died for her, at least she would embrace her daughter again and appreciate his sacrifice.
Somehow the dynamic between them changed with those simple words. Taylor seemed calmer, more focused as she decided to let him lead her. The row of soldiers moved aside to make way for them.
Their advance still looked crazy to the outsiders. Mira and Taylor walked onwards in unison, and the soldiers followed behind them, keeping her in their sights. But Taylor didn't make a move to fight or turn the tables. He was exhausted after a long night and the encounter with his son. Mira wasn't acting herself - not like fierce and intelligent creature he knew to be. She was blinded by grief, and yet it was the very thing that tugged at his heartstrings, spoke to him. He tolerated her behavior because he was curious.
These mercenaries he'd taken for greedy, guiltless soldiers were humane. They bled, they cared. They acted against their sense when driven asunder. He no longer needed to be made of stone to win. He needed to know clemency.
"Skye told me you were injured," Taylor said conversationally, feeling the way Mira's arms shook. "It was your hearing, wasn't it?" he then continued, telling her of his earlier observation.
She didn't react to noise as she should've, didn't pick up things. Mira seemed to be just a little detached, tense and expecting. She tried to overcompensate with her other senses, looking too far to her sides.
"I'm alive yet," Mira responded, feeling pride for the fact.
Their spectators didn't understand this play, but they did. They had their parts memorized from countless other times they had embraced these roles. Closeness was only allowed when weapons were involved. Truths were only exchanged when one had the upper hand. Mira recalled their previous encounter in the jungle: his imprisonment, her imprisonment, how everything had ended in an unlikely co-operation.
Perhaps that was why he'd realized she didn't truly mean to hurt him as long as he wasn't the one who had harmed her loved ones. Taylor walked onwards, knowing that this was the only way he could let her in without taking her a prisoner. He was saving her honor, the shreds that were left of it. Theirs had always been a relationship based on mutual respect. Even at its worst, they had always acknowledged the skill of their adversary, held a silent admiration, an understanding of the rules.
Their war was ending now. This was her last stand. And yet Taylor found no desire to strike her down; No desire to justify her anger. Mira solidified the doubts in his mind, gave tangible form to the truths he already knew, but had wanted to dismiss.
Skye had begged him, Lucas had mocked him, Elizabeth had told him, and now Mira threatened him. They all had the same message for him. It was over.
People stared at their advance with worry, shock. He had already relaxed, looked almost comfortable as they entered the infirmary. Elizabeth had moved Carter to a private room just an hour back, seeing as his recovery required uninterrupted rest. He knew where this was and led Mira there willingly.
The soldiers still followed, understanding little of what they witnessed, yet mesmerized by the sight of it as Taylor and Mira stopped at the door. Following an unspoken thought, her hand moved from his throat and she released him. All happened so peacefully, no words were exchanged as Taylor moved away from her and then turned to face her again. He saw her hesitate, put the knife on her belt and just stand there. No one moved in to rescue him and detain her, for all eyes were focused on what happened next between them; the air was ripe with anticipation.
How strange that it ended like this; not in carnage as Mira had often thought. She had expected a battlefield, going down in the blaze of glory. Instead he was standing by her side, urging her to step across the threshold, encouraging her. Having walked all this way here, the fear was worse than ever.
It was Taylor who opened the door eventually, staying behind as Mira stepped inside finally. He closed the door behind her, instantly faced with Washington, who stared at him like he had gone mad.
"Sir?" she asked, glancing at the room he'd just allowed Mira to enter upon threatening his life. Her eyes were wide with confusion.
"Go tell the rest they're free to come and get their families as long as they come unarmed," Taylor answered gently, eyes lingering at the surface of the door.
"It's over Wash," he then sighed, surrendering to the truth finally.
She didn't know how to respond, or how he knew this. Washington waved the men down, calling to the guards at the gate, and the ones holding the civilians under house arrest. She did it all without second guessing, for she knew his expression, that look of inner peace she had rarely seen.
Mira walked towards the bed as silently as she could. It was nice here, a safe corner of quiet contemplation. But she hadn't expected to find Sienna by his bed; her small figure slumped over the side of the bed, head resting near him. Her small hand was over Carter's as if refusing to let him go. Had she seen everything? Had she clung onto him in fear, while he was just trying to get her home?
She reached the armchair by the bed; leaned in to brush the hair from Sienna's sleeping face. Her teeth pressed into her dry lips for a moment there, struggling with the decision to wake her. She decided against it. Instead Mira lifted her gently, pulling her into her arms and away from Carter's side. Sienna didn't react much even as she was picked up, which was certainly for the better. Mira sat in the chair, settling them to a comfortable position the best she could.
Sienna turned a bit in her sleep, but exhaustion had claimed her. She rested her head over Mira's chest, inhaling that scent she knew subconsciously from her early childhood, and slumbered into deeper sleep. Mira continued to pet her hair, finding her voice to sing a lullaby to her for the first time in years.
"Hush, little baby…," she sang quietly, unwilling to wake her child. She glanced nervously at the door, wondering when she would be interrupted, when her time would run out.
"Mommy's going to buy you a mockingbird…," she continued, feeling her heart clench. But the prison guard never came to take her away, and after awhile Mira settled into this, allowed herself to believe in Taylor's good intentions and fairness.
All saturnine thoughts vanished from her. Winning or losing no longer mattered. She had been a petty creature to think they had. Nothing matched the love she had for her daughter, this utter devotion, and yet only one other could've brought loss deep enough to plunge her into despair.
Her eyes brushed over Carter who was still unconscious; He was attached to machines and tubes. The machine helped him breathe, helped him stay alive. It was something at least, she thought. She fixed her position on the chair, moved her free hand over Carter's, feeling his skin with her fingers ever so lightly, before weaving their fingers together.
She had all the time in the world now, nothing forced her to leave his side, so she would remain here until he woke up.
"You're going to wake up," she told him matter-of-factly.
He rushed down the corridor as soon as the door was opened for him. While he ran, his mind worked on what he'd heard. They were all free; his father was letting them go. Lucas was unable to feel gratitude or hatred, so that just left a strange numbness towards his father. Somehow Taylor had changed his mind. Why, how, when?
Steps further down the corridor drilled into his hearing, made him stop, listen. Seconds later she appeared into view, searching like he was, anxious to find him. He saw past the dirt on her face, the tenseness in her body and the general disorder that marked her. She looked the same with her bewildered gaze, her beauty highlighted by her apparent determination, yet something was different.
"Skye," he called to her with insecurity, getting her to turn to him. At first she looked at him with a frown, not having recognized the softness of his voice, but as the revelation unraveled relief spread across her being.
Skye closed the distance quickly as she set into motion, rather guided by her instinct than rational thought at this point. Her ordeal had left her cradled in uncertainty, holding onto dwindling sentiments about what had been important to her once and whether it ever could be again. After Taylor's rejection she had been certain that tragedy was unavoidable; that they simply lacked the tools to fix this mess they had made. But seeing Lucas here relatively unharmed, looking at her like he no longer knew what to do, proved her wrong.
She wrapped her arms around him upon reaching him and held onto him as tightly as possible. At first her hold was weak, but her strength returned in time as he held onto her as well, whispering relief, feeling so warm and good in her arms. Her eyes were closed, her face buried in his chest, and while all she wanted was to tell him everything, asked about everyone, all she could do was sob with relief and joy at first. The heavy cross she'd carried, the weight of the world beneath their feet, the weight of her own despicable actions, it finally fell from her grip that moment.
Lucas knew how she felt, how much they had each craved for this, a reunion that didn't force either one of them to live in exile. He brushed his fingers into her hair, raking through it to comfort her. His outburst of emotion wasn't as visible, but he did allow himself to feel everything instead of rejecting it. For a passing moment he was content and without fear.
Skye put some distance between them, drawing a shivering breath in attempt to hold back her emotions. She immediately felt him wipe away her hot tears with his thumbs, and looked up to see Lucas who was equally moved in his own minimalistic way. She'd learned to read into his expressions and gestures, the way he held his breath or avoided eye contact. This time Lucas was fully in the moment, his mind unoccupied by anything else.
Without a word she rose to her toes to kiss him, and he embraced her kiss, inviting her lips to open with his. His hands moved to her back, hers rested on his chest. He pressed into the kiss with urgency, as if worried this might end too soon. She no longer worried about that, and thus she released his lips with amusement and returned her heels to the ground as she retreated.
Lucas frowned with disappointment at her early retreat, and swooped her in his arms all over again, pulling her closer to kiss her. This time her saw her close her eyes and just enjoy the feeling of his warmth and hunger as he pecked her lips lightly, planting one small kiss after another on her. Yet his kisses became fewer and longer shortly, and even as he tried to express everything he felt through touch alone, words were needed. Lucas stopped to breathe after the last kiss seemed to last forever, and it burned the oxygen from his lungs, forcing them apart. He rested his forehead against hers for a short while, keeping his eyes closed as he relished the moment, before he opened his eyes and faced her again.
She looked back at him, a warm expression conveying her affection for him. Desire touched the bottom of her stomach, but she denied it, feeling concern for more pressing matters.
"What-"
""How-"
Each started to speak in unison, and was silenced at the same time when they realized neither could hear what the other had said. It was Skye who acted first when the silence threatened to stretch onwards.
"Is everyone alright?" she asked, feeling a stab of guilt for abandoning everyone in her quest to change Taylor's mind.
"We were showered with enemy fire. There were some injuries," Lucas began to describe. His demeanor changed noticeably as he paused before he told her about Carter. "…Carter was shot in the chaos. I don't know his condition."
Skye faced the information calmly, refusing to be alerted further. "Dr. Shannon will help him," she stated, finding almost crazy faith in her notion of Elizabeth's skills. "She has saved him before."
Lucas nodded encouragingly as he was unwilling to think about the alternative. "What about everyone else?" He asked unaware of the length of Skye's imprisonment. He rested his hand comfortably over her pelvis, offering her support just by being there.
"We lost Cross and Villiers. The damage from the gunfire was too great. And Mira was injured in the fight. The damage to her hearing probably isn't permanent, but I'm not a doctor, I don't have the experience or knowledge to make anything but guesses," she explained, sounding terribly conflicted. He could tell she blamed herself, couldn't accept that it was supposedly her fault they had lost their medic.
"Skye. You can't do miracles, and no one is asking you to," he comforted her, placing his hand beneath her chin. "We chose this path, all of us together. There was always the chance things could go wrong."
Something flickered in her eyes, her head snapped to her side and her expression shifted to alarm. "Lucas," she breathed and grasped his elbow sharply. "Did you find out who the infiltrators are?" she asked, remembering how they all still lurked in the long shadow Morris had cast.
Lucas snapped out of his calmness, his forehead became furrowed and the signs of uncertainty took over his being. "I never got the data… Carter did," he told her, realizing only now that danger was still present here.
Should the infiltrators learn of how they had blown the gate there was no telling how they would react. Horror scenarios flooded his mind, each becoming more and more gruesome. Suddenly he was angry again, angry at Carter for having kept this secret, angry at himself for being reduced to a bedridden cripple, angry at the Company for their seemingly endless distrust in their own employees. Frustration bled onto his expression, made him clench his teeth together as his hands fell from her being.
"Lucas!" she snarled at him, demanding his attention as she noticed him retreating back into the confinement of his mind. Skye looked headstrong at this time, her inner strength had returned.
"We need to act," she stated collectedly, sounding like she knew exactly what to do.
He knew what she meant; this was something that threatened both the Sixers and Terra Nova. It was one final test that could unite them all, and prove to all the Nay-Sayers that their intentions no longer involved harming Terra Nova or its citizens.
"You're right." His voice lacked his usual certainty. This was unusual ground to him, letting her take the lead. The consequences of her earlier choices were still fresh in both their minds, but he trusted her, and the last thing he wanted was for her to fear taking control because of the past. Skye wasn't a leader per se, but she did rise into the occasion when needed, and she had good instincts about people.
She glanced around them to make sure they hadn't been overheard. "Do you think they'll act once they learn about what you did?" she questioned him, focusing readily on the task at hand.
"Taylor announced he would free all prisoners, so the information is getting out as we speak. There will be confusion at first, but I fear they have strict instructions on what to do in every scenario," he explained ominously, letting his distaste for Morris' tactics show. Morris had been prepared to let them all burn if they were compromised - who was to say he hadn't instructed something similar here?
"It isn't in their best interest to establish peace between us and Terra Nova. I fear they will sabotage this peace," she lamented, feeling her anxiety take root inside her.
"The best way to do that is to kill my father," Lucas stated with exaggerated detachment. Skye flinched as he said this, instantly affected by the news. Hearing it nauseated her, yet she understood what he meant. It was just perfect; framing the Sixers as assassins and turning the Colony against them as revenge. It certainly sounded like something Morris could've come up with.
"There were over a hundred new pilgrims that arrived on the 11th, Lucas!" Skye snapped at him, pulling away to contain her urges to display the utter frustration she felt. This was hopeless.
"I can't lie to you, Bucket," he responded with defeat, "It is not like I haven't wanted this for years."
She knew it of course, but hearing it aloud was like another nail in the coffin. Was she truly alone in this? "No! We are not going sit by idle while they act," she objected vehemently, and strangely enough, he listened.
"He gave you a clean slate, Lucas. That is the only reason we're even having this conversation!" Her voice became stronger and clearer with the accusation, the pressure she applied to make him see.
Lucas responded cynically though, "You can't clean a slate, Skye. Not for good. You'll always see what was there before."
His words tasted bitter in her mouth. However, she didn't let herself lose hope so easily. A part of him resented the notion of being forgiven and forgiving others, but she knew he was better than that.
"In your own words, I betrayed you. How is my slate these days?"
Her words were chilling, but she no longer threaded on him; instead she implied with no hostility or judgment. She didn't voice the obvious; that she didn't want to choose between them again. Lucas quickly realized he couldn't ask her to either. If he couldn't forgive his father, there were always other reasons to save his life. Taylor had given them all their freedom, a chance to start anew. If he would pass away under these circumstances, all of that would be gone in the wind.
The irony of this moment was what eventually made Lucas' coldness melt into amusement. He had come to Terra Nova five years ago to disgrace his father and destroy his legacy, but instead he was saving him. What a strange twist of fate.
Skye observed him as he considered her words, and saw the precise moment where his mind changed. She knew it wouldn't be an act of love, not for her or Taylor, but the only rational choice available. Still she would take it, knowing that if Lucas had been unable to see reason in this situation she would've had to abandon all of hope of being with him. Choosing between his misplaced anger and the affection he had gained for her and the others really showed them both what he was made of deep down.
Skye extended her hand for Lucas and watched him take it. She squeezed it tightly for a moment, feeling his steady pulse through the veins of his hand, until she let go. "They must've rushed him into surgery when you arrived?" she asked tentatively, gaining her response in a nod.
"We're going to have to wake up Carter then," she concluded.
TBC
Fandom: Terra Nova
Ship: Skye/Lucas
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: bad language, sexual situations, AU
Chapter: 28/?
Summary: 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: Only 2-3 chapters left. Although I have enjoyed writing this fic immensely, I have to say I will be glad when this task is done. Feels like everything else but Lucas/Skye has hijacked this story, when it was supposed to be about them. Strange how things work out, isn't it? Well I won't apologize for the Carter & Mira scenes. These characters grew on me all on their own.
Things Lost in the Fire
28. A Burning Heart
Mira rode with the others. She sat in the passenger seat with her gaze pointed at the dry land and the dust their approach sent flying across it. You could see their coming from miles away on the plain fields that surrounded Terra Nova, but for once it did not bother her. She wanted to announce her arrival loud and clear. She had learned subtlety, trained in choosing her words, muffling her cries. Not today. Today she wouldn't play pliant any longer.
It was afternoon by the time they closed in on their destination. The sun scorched everything in its path, and her body surrendered to its might, leaving her exhausted and covered in sweat. By now she functioned on determination alone. After a half-slept night, her mood was anything but rational, and her ears were still bothered by the sound of waves, this raging sea that had been Morris' final gift to her.
The others carried weapons, surveyed their surroundings with unease. All she had was her knife; all she searched for were the men responsible. If Carter was dead, there would no negotiation, no parley to save them. She would cross the line with no one to hold her back this time, no one to tell her to stop in time.
They stopped at a distance from the colony, formed a row of vehicles that stood out like sore thumb on the long empty plains. Mira climbed out of her rover and walked away from the rest towards the gates alone. She saw the guns in the towers, the alerted guards that tried to evaluate her intentions, and carried on in spite of them. When they began to yell ultimatums at her from their towers, she stopped. Slowly, she lifted her arms up to show she was unarmed.
"Taylor!" she yelled from the bottom of her lungs, urging him to come outside, come face her.
"Taylor, you come outside!" she dared him, knowing the sly old fox was too curious to kill her, too curious to notice her despair. That's what she would use against him; it was the only way she could win anymore.
With her hands still raised she stopped her approach, eyes cast on the front gate of the settlement. She wasn't the soft woman who'd once walked through those gates with a smile; Taylor had forced her out, carved her into something else. Life had complicated things, turned simple plans into a spiral of bad luck and suffering, a mission into an eking life out there.
This was the end of the road, the turning point where she realized she had strived for something better because of him all along.
As the dust landed by their rovers and the afternoon sun burned her skin relentlessly, she continued to call for Nathaniel Taylor. The No-Man's-Land between Terra Nova's gate and their troops was the loneliest place in the world, a wasteland of dreams. The wait was his silent taunt to her, a stigma of unimportance, but she withstood it. Mira knew the road to awe was paved with suffering.
But in the end, Taylor arrived to prove her patience was rewarded. He appeared into view suddenly, alone like Mira, and walked onwards slowly to greet her, making no audible sound yet. He too had known little rest in this past week, sleeping with one eye open, dreading for an attack. A week should've been nothing compared to the five long years he had waited for this day, and still knowing it was coming had paralyzed him.
Mira was a vision of disorder before his eyes. He frowned upon seeing this once proud and unreadable woman so visibly shaken, but he continued onwards to meet her, knowing backing out was no longer an option. Mira always came for her people, always suggested a trade. This time it didn't look as if she had anything to trade with. It only piqued his interest further.
As he came closer, Mira recognized the dark rings around his eyes, smelled the sweat from his clothes. He'd suffered a long night catching the people she loved, caging them and interrogating them. Her heart knew no sympathy for him at this time.
"Mira," Taylor finally spoke, reaching the speaking distance. He stopped in her presence, scorched by the violent sun.
"Three years, Taylor," she said harshly, her tone insinuating how she was done with playing games. "Three years you've carried a bullet for me."
"No one was harmed, Mira. We captured your team. The ones that needed medical attention have received it," Taylor hurried to assure her, realizing the implication of her words. He didn't desire hostility at this time, not when he doubted the need to continue battling.
For a second there it looked as if though she felt relief, let the aggression slip away. She almost smiled; her shoulders relaxed, and she even took a step closer with a hopeful stare. He let his guard down, unable to believe that this worn woman would act against him now. Both Lucas and Skye had been telling him the fighting was over, and Mira seemed ready to lay down her arms and request mercy as they had. Taylor realized he would gladly embrace her surrender.
Yet Mira was swift with making a u-turn; she charged at him, hitting his face with her own to blind him. Taylor was flooded with the pain and shock from the sudden headbutt. He staggered backwards without a clear view, and felt her grab him by his shoulders. Her grip was strong, piercing. She then flipped him around violently and pushed a blade over his throat.
Mira pressed her lips to his ear, hissing, "If you wanted me, you should've shot me, Taylor." She held him still, locked one of his arms behind his back and stood close enough to him to press against his back. Taylor blinked, trying to regain his eyesight.
How had this happened? How had she just gotten the jump on him so easily? He realized his mind was distraught, filled with the words of his children who had hoped to lead him astray. They had been eager to convince him the Sixers were no longer a threat, and while he had denied it, hadn't his heart wanted to believe it? Didn't he desire a happy ending as well? The blade that hovered over his throat was direct proof how foolish such hopes were.
A warrior, a vengeful Fury: those were the images he got from her. Nothing about her spoke of the same peace Lucas and Skye had talked about. This was personal for Mira now, this was revenge.
"You'd better hope Carter makes it," she whispered to him, pushing him onwards as she clarified the source of her anger. Mira pried his gun from its holster and tossed it on the ground.
"Will you kill me?" he asked her calmly. No answer would surprise him. Mira had indeed tried to harm him many times in the past, always failing. Now nothing stood in her way.
"No," she answered. "You're my shield. You're going to take me to Terra Nova. You're going to release them all."
He didn't protest against her logic for the plan was ludicrous. She would've had better luck in keeping him hostage since he'd fallen for her trap. But then he realized she didn't care too much for her wellbeing at this time, having approached him with such carelessness. He'd driven her to the edge.
Something clicked; if there was an army, wouldn't she wait for it? No, instead she came here, pressed a knife over his throat and asked him to walk them both inside enemy lines - for what? To see her second again: The man who had emerged from the portal with a gunshot wound?
"Move it," she breathed heavily into his ear, pushing him onwards. They began to move in unison, the knife still hovering by his throat.
"It wasn't us who shot Carter, Mira," Taylor told her as they reached the gate and proceeded to enter the colony together. His soldiers waited inside, guns pointed at his aggressor.
"Hold your fire!" he instructed his soldiers. Mira hesitated, tensing at the sight of the enemy horde. She scanned her surrounding, realizing she stood little chance, but then she continued the charade anyway, alarming Taylor further.
She was alone, exposed, moving into the heart of enemy territory. Her plans had nothing to do with sense, and everything to do with need, he realized.
"Why don't I show you?" he suggested softly, turning towards the road to the infirmary.
Mira counted the soldiers, witnessed their eagerness to act and knew they could've shot her already. Taylor was keeping them from it, her exhausted mind knew as much. She could let them have their desire, die a martyr. She could harm this man, her true adversary, and know that at least something had gone right. Or she could believe him when he said it hadn't been them who'd hurt Carter. She could try and trust her enemy, and continue this strange act they had established in the span of the past three years.
She felt a pain in her chest as she realized there was only one option she could take. All other roads would leave Sienna alone, and she had already taken that road once in her life. Never again, she'd vowed. Would that promise become meaningless in the face of revenge?
"Let's go," she said, letting him lead the way. If Carter had died for her, at least she would embrace her daughter again and appreciate his sacrifice.
Somehow the dynamic between them changed with those simple words. Taylor seemed calmer, more focused as she decided to let him lead her. The row of soldiers moved aside to make way for them.
Their advance still looked crazy to the outsiders. Mira and Taylor walked onwards in unison, and the soldiers followed behind them, keeping her in their sights. But Taylor didn't make a move to fight or turn the tables. He was exhausted after a long night and the encounter with his son. Mira wasn't acting herself - not like fierce and intelligent creature he knew to be. She was blinded by grief, and yet it was the very thing that tugged at his heartstrings, spoke to him. He tolerated her behavior because he was curious.
These mercenaries he'd taken for greedy, guiltless soldiers were humane. They bled, they cared. They acted against their sense when driven asunder. He no longer needed to be made of stone to win. He needed to know clemency.
"Skye told me you were injured," Taylor said conversationally, feeling the way Mira's arms shook. "It was your hearing, wasn't it?" he then continued, telling her of his earlier observation.
She didn't react to noise as she should've, didn't pick up things. Mira seemed to be just a little detached, tense and expecting. She tried to overcompensate with her other senses, looking too far to her sides.
"I'm alive yet," Mira responded, feeling pride for the fact.
Their spectators didn't understand this play, but they did. They had their parts memorized from countless other times they had embraced these roles. Closeness was only allowed when weapons were involved. Truths were only exchanged when one had the upper hand. Mira recalled their previous encounter in the jungle: his imprisonment, her imprisonment, how everything had ended in an unlikely co-operation.
Perhaps that was why he'd realized she didn't truly mean to hurt him as long as he wasn't the one who had harmed her loved ones. Taylor walked onwards, knowing that this was the only way he could let her in without taking her a prisoner. He was saving her honor, the shreds that were left of it. Theirs had always been a relationship based on mutual respect. Even at its worst, they had always acknowledged the skill of their adversary, held a silent admiration, an understanding of the rules.
Their war was ending now. This was her last stand. And yet Taylor found no desire to strike her down; No desire to justify her anger. Mira solidified the doubts in his mind, gave tangible form to the truths he already knew, but had wanted to dismiss.
Skye had begged him, Lucas had mocked him, Elizabeth had told him, and now Mira threatened him. They all had the same message for him. It was over.
People stared at their advance with worry, shock. He had already relaxed, looked almost comfortable as they entered the infirmary. Elizabeth had moved Carter to a private room just an hour back, seeing as his recovery required uninterrupted rest. He knew where this was and led Mira there willingly.
The soldiers still followed, understanding little of what they witnessed, yet mesmerized by the sight of it as Taylor and Mira stopped at the door. Following an unspoken thought, her hand moved from his throat and she released him. All happened so peacefully, no words were exchanged as Taylor moved away from her and then turned to face her again. He saw her hesitate, put the knife on her belt and just stand there. No one moved in to rescue him and detain her, for all eyes were focused on what happened next between them; the air was ripe with anticipation.
How strange that it ended like this; not in carnage as Mira had often thought. She had expected a battlefield, going down in the blaze of glory. Instead he was standing by her side, urging her to step across the threshold, encouraging her. Having walked all this way here, the fear was worse than ever.
It was Taylor who opened the door eventually, staying behind as Mira stepped inside finally. He closed the door behind her, instantly faced with Washington, who stared at him like he had gone mad.
"Sir?" she asked, glancing at the room he'd just allowed Mira to enter upon threatening his life. Her eyes were wide with confusion.
"Go tell the rest they're free to come and get their families as long as they come unarmed," Taylor answered gently, eyes lingering at the surface of the door.
"It's over Wash," he then sighed, surrendering to the truth finally.
She didn't know how to respond, or how he knew this. Washington waved the men down, calling to the guards at the gate, and the ones holding the civilians under house arrest. She did it all without second guessing, for she knew his expression, that look of inner peace she had rarely seen.
Mira walked towards the bed as silently as she could. It was nice here, a safe corner of quiet contemplation. But she hadn't expected to find Sienna by his bed; her small figure slumped over the side of the bed, head resting near him. Her small hand was over Carter's as if refusing to let him go. Had she seen everything? Had she clung onto him in fear, while he was just trying to get her home?
She reached the armchair by the bed; leaned in to brush the hair from Sienna's sleeping face. Her teeth pressed into her dry lips for a moment there, struggling with the decision to wake her. She decided against it. Instead Mira lifted her gently, pulling her into her arms and away from Carter's side. Sienna didn't react much even as she was picked up, which was certainly for the better. Mira sat in the chair, settling them to a comfortable position the best she could.
Sienna turned a bit in her sleep, but exhaustion had claimed her. She rested her head over Mira's chest, inhaling that scent she knew subconsciously from her early childhood, and slumbered into deeper sleep. Mira continued to pet her hair, finding her voice to sing a lullaby to her for the first time in years.
"Hush, little baby…," she sang quietly, unwilling to wake her child. She glanced nervously at the door, wondering when she would be interrupted, when her time would run out.
"Mommy's going to buy you a mockingbird…," she continued, feeling her heart clench. But the prison guard never came to take her away, and after awhile Mira settled into this, allowed herself to believe in Taylor's good intentions and fairness.
All saturnine thoughts vanished from her. Winning or losing no longer mattered. She had been a petty creature to think they had. Nothing matched the love she had for her daughter, this utter devotion, and yet only one other could've brought loss deep enough to plunge her into despair.
Her eyes brushed over Carter who was still unconscious; He was attached to machines and tubes. The machine helped him breathe, helped him stay alive. It was something at least, she thought. She fixed her position on the chair, moved her free hand over Carter's, feeling his skin with her fingers ever so lightly, before weaving their fingers together.
She had all the time in the world now, nothing forced her to leave his side, so she would remain here until he woke up.
"You're going to wake up," she told him matter-of-factly.
He rushed down the corridor as soon as the door was opened for him. While he ran, his mind worked on what he'd heard. They were all free; his father was letting them go. Lucas was unable to feel gratitude or hatred, so that just left a strange numbness towards his father. Somehow Taylor had changed his mind. Why, how, when?
Steps further down the corridor drilled into his hearing, made him stop, listen. Seconds later she appeared into view, searching like he was, anxious to find him. He saw past the dirt on her face, the tenseness in her body and the general disorder that marked her. She looked the same with her bewildered gaze, her beauty highlighted by her apparent determination, yet something was different.
"Skye," he called to her with insecurity, getting her to turn to him. At first she looked at him with a frown, not having recognized the softness of his voice, but as the revelation unraveled relief spread across her being.
Skye closed the distance quickly as she set into motion, rather guided by her instinct than rational thought at this point. Her ordeal had left her cradled in uncertainty, holding onto dwindling sentiments about what had been important to her once and whether it ever could be again. After Taylor's rejection she had been certain that tragedy was unavoidable; that they simply lacked the tools to fix this mess they had made. But seeing Lucas here relatively unharmed, looking at her like he no longer knew what to do, proved her wrong.
She wrapped her arms around him upon reaching him and held onto him as tightly as possible. At first her hold was weak, but her strength returned in time as he held onto her as well, whispering relief, feeling so warm and good in her arms. Her eyes were closed, her face buried in his chest, and while all she wanted was to tell him everything, asked about everyone, all she could do was sob with relief and joy at first. The heavy cross she'd carried, the weight of the world beneath their feet, the weight of her own despicable actions, it finally fell from her grip that moment.
Lucas knew how she felt, how much they had each craved for this, a reunion that didn't force either one of them to live in exile. He brushed his fingers into her hair, raking through it to comfort her. His outburst of emotion wasn't as visible, but he did allow himself to feel everything instead of rejecting it. For a passing moment he was content and without fear.
Skye put some distance between them, drawing a shivering breath in attempt to hold back her emotions. She immediately felt him wipe away her hot tears with his thumbs, and looked up to see Lucas who was equally moved in his own minimalistic way. She'd learned to read into his expressions and gestures, the way he held his breath or avoided eye contact. This time Lucas was fully in the moment, his mind unoccupied by anything else.
Without a word she rose to her toes to kiss him, and he embraced her kiss, inviting her lips to open with his. His hands moved to her back, hers rested on his chest. He pressed into the kiss with urgency, as if worried this might end too soon. She no longer worried about that, and thus she released his lips with amusement and returned her heels to the ground as she retreated.
Lucas frowned with disappointment at her early retreat, and swooped her in his arms all over again, pulling her closer to kiss her. This time her saw her close her eyes and just enjoy the feeling of his warmth and hunger as he pecked her lips lightly, planting one small kiss after another on her. Yet his kisses became fewer and longer shortly, and even as he tried to express everything he felt through touch alone, words were needed. Lucas stopped to breathe after the last kiss seemed to last forever, and it burned the oxygen from his lungs, forcing them apart. He rested his forehead against hers for a short while, keeping his eyes closed as he relished the moment, before he opened his eyes and faced her again.
She looked back at him, a warm expression conveying her affection for him. Desire touched the bottom of her stomach, but she denied it, feeling concern for more pressing matters.
"What-"
""How-"
Each started to speak in unison, and was silenced at the same time when they realized neither could hear what the other had said. It was Skye who acted first when the silence threatened to stretch onwards.
"Is everyone alright?" she asked, feeling a stab of guilt for abandoning everyone in her quest to change Taylor's mind.
"We were showered with enemy fire. There were some injuries," Lucas began to describe. His demeanor changed noticeably as he paused before he told her about Carter. "…Carter was shot in the chaos. I don't know his condition."
Skye faced the information calmly, refusing to be alerted further. "Dr. Shannon will help him," she stated, finding almost crazy faith in her notion of Elizabeth's skills. "She has saved him before."
Lucas nodded encouragingly as he was unwilling to think about the alternative. "What about everyone else?" He asked unaware of the length of Skye's imprisonment. He rested his hand comfortably over her pelvis, offering her support just by being there.
"We lost Cross and Villiers. The damage from the gunfire was too great. And Mira was injured in the fight. The damage to her hearing probably isn't permanent, but I'm not a doctor, I don't have the experience or knowledge to make anything but guesses," she explained, sounding terribly conflicted. He could tell she blamed herself, couldn't accept that it was supposedly her fault they had lost their medic.
"Skye. You can't do miracles, and no one is asking you to," he comforted her, placing his hand beneath her chin. "We chose this path, all of us together. There was always the chance things could go wrong."
Something flickered in her eyes, her head snapped to her side and her expression shifted to alarm. "Lucas," she breathed and grasped his elbow sharply. "Did you find out who the infiltrators are?" she asked, remembering how they all still lurked in the long shadow Morris had cast.
Lucas snapped out of his calmness, his forehead became furrowed and the signs of uncertainty took over his being. "I never got the data… Carter did," he told her, realizing only now that danger was still present here.
Should the infiltrators learn of how they had blown the gate there was no telling how they would react. Horror scenarios flooded his mind, each becoming more and more gruesome. Suddenly he was angry again, angry at Carter for having kept this secret, angry at himself for being reduced to a bedridden cripple, angry at the Company for their seemingly endless distrust in their own employees. Frustration bled onto his expression, made him clench his teeth together as his hands fell from her being.
"Lucas!" she snarled at him, demanding his attention as she noticed him retreating back into the confinement of his mind. Skye looked headstrong at this time, her inner strength had returned.
"We need to act," she stated collectedly, sounding like she knew exactly what to do.
He knew what she meant; this was something that threatened both the Sixers and Terra Nova. It was one final test that could unite them all, and prove to all the Nay-Sayers that their intentions no longer involved harming Terra Nova or its citizens.
"You're right." His voice lacked his usual certainty. This was unusual ground to him, letting her take the lead. The consequences of her earlier choices were still fresh in both their minds, but he trusted her, and the last thing he wanted was for her to fear taking control because of the past. Skye wasn't a leader per se, but she did rise into the occasion when needed, and she had good instincts about people.
She glanced around them to make sure they hadn't been overheard. "Do you think they'll act once they learn about what you did?" she questioned him, focusing readily on the task at hand.
"Taylor announced he would free all prisoners, so the information is getting out as we speak. There will be confusion at first, but I fear they have strict instructions on what to do in every scenario," he explained ominously, letting his distaste for Morris' tactics show. Morris had been prepared to let them all burn if they were compromised - who was to say he hadn't instructed something similar here?
"It isn't in their best interest to establish peace between us and Terra Nova. I fear they will sabotage this peace," she lamented, feeling her anxiety take root inside her.
"The best way to do that is to kill my father," Lucas stated with exaggerated detachment. Skye flinched as he said this, instantly affected by the news. Hearing it nauseated her, yet she understood what he meant. It was just perfect; framing the Sixers as assassins and turning the Colony against them as revenge. It certainly sounded like something Morris could've come up with.
"There were over a hundred new pilgrims that arrived on the 11th, Lucas!" Skye snapped at him, pulling away to contain her urges to display the utter frustration she felt. This was hopeless.
"I can't lie to you, Bucket," he responded with defeat, "It is not like I haven't wanted this for years."
She knew it of course, but hearing it aloud was like another nail in the coffin. Was she truly alone in this? "No! We are not going sit by idle while they act," she objected vehemently, and strangely enough, he listened.
"He gave you a clean slate, Lucas. That is the only reason we're even having this conversation!" Her voice became stronger and clearer with the accusation, the pressure she applied to make him see.
Lucas responded cynically though, "You can't clean a slate, Skye. Not for good. You'll always see what was there before."
His words tasted bitter in her mouth. However, she didn't let herself lose hope so easily. A part of him resented the notion of being forgiven and forgiving others, but she knew he was better than that.
"In your own words, I betrayed you. How is my slate these days?"
Her words were chilling, but she no longer threaded on him; instead she implied with no hostility or judgment. She didn't voice the obvious; that she didn't want to choose between them again. Lucas quickly realized he couldn't ask her to either. If he couldn't forgive his father, there were always other reasons to save his life. Taylor had given them all their freedom, a chance to start anew. If he would pass away under these circumstances, all of that would be gone in the wind.
The irony of this moment was what eventually made Lucas' coldness melt into amusement. He had come to Terra Nova five years ago to disgrace his father and destroy his legacy, but instead he was saving him. What a strange twist of fate.
Skye observed him as he considered her words, and saw the precise moment where his mind changed. She knew it wouldn't be an act of love, not for her or Taylor, but the only rational choice available. Still she would take it, knowing that if Lucas had been unable to see reason in this situation she would've had to abandon all of hope of being with him. Choosing between his misplaced anger and the affection he had gained for her and the others really showed them both what he was made of deep down.
Skye extended her hand for Lucas and watched him take it. She squeezed it tightly for a moment, feeling his steady pulse through the veins of his hand, until she let go. "They must've rushed him into surgery when you arrived?" she asked tentatively, gaining her response in a nod.
"We're going to have to wake up Carter then," she concluded.
TBC