FIC: The Sides of the Triangle (BSG, ADULT)
Title: The Sides of the Triangle
Pairing: Helo/Leoben/Male Cylon Surprise
Rating: ADULT
Warning: m/m(/m) sex. possible dub-con issues, but nothing overt.
Wordcount: ~ 6800
Written for: wolfram9999 in the Helo ShAgathon . I hope this is close to what you wanted!
Beta: I want to thank Mr. Spellchecker, my best buddy, and emergency beta. Feel free to point out any stupidity I missed.
Spoilers: Rapture. Set in 3.5, but in some AU one step to the left in which Helo still flies Raptors. oops. my bad. *g* (and the final five thing? SPECULATION)
Summary: Captured, Helo discovers the face of one of the Final Five. And that he's not as alone as he thought.
A/N: Most of this fic is more, um, theological than porn, though there is definitely porn too, past the first scene break. It's not, however, the non-con scenario you'd expect from the pairing.
Still, if slash isn't your cuppa, the Gen, slash-free version is available HERE.
Consciousness returned all at once, alarm speeding through Karl like a Viper at full.
He'd been on long-range CAP, and an entire squad of Raiders had jumped practically on top of him. He had no idea whether his message had gone out or they'd jammed it. The last thing he remembered were the Cylon Raider tracers heading right for him -- He shouldn't be alive
He sat up, eyes snapping open.
What the frak?
He saw gray metal walls, harsh white light in the ceiling and pulsing red and blue lights in stripes along the walls. The room itself was large, ten meters on a side, and mostly empty. The air seemed warmer than Galactica, and it was humid enough his forehead was sweating. And there was no comforting vibration of the drive engines or the whirr of the air circulation system; instead the primary noise seemed to be an odd low thumping sound.
There was also one doorway, which opened into a corridor that looked much the same.
He pushed aside the silky cream-colored sheets of the large bed he was sitting on, and his eyes flared wide, realizing he was naked.
Apprehension replaced confusion as a heavy weight in his gut.
This wasn't Galactica. This place wasn't human, at all. Only the bed and the small wooden table and chairs on the other side of the room looked human -- and completely incongruous.
Everything else was strange and sterile, but fit for a race who could make their surroundings appear to be wherever they wished...
He swallowed hard. This was bad.
He wasn't sure if it was a good thing that he didn't know if Galactica knew the Cylons had found him or not. He didn't want them to think he'd just vanished, and never know -- but nor did he want Sharon to get in her head to try to come find him.
Gods, please don't let Sharon do anything stupid, he prayed, hoping that the Lords of Kobol could hear him from the inside of a Cylon Basestar. Let her stay with Hera. I'll find my own way out.
Wrapping the sheet around his waist, he decided to try to find his way out. He wasn't in a cell and he should take advantage of it. Maybe they didn't know he was awake yet. If he could find the hangar and maybe a Raptor, just like the one Sharon and Caprica had stolen, he could get away...
The metallic grinding sound of servos silenced that train of thought, before two Centurions moved into view and planted themselves in the doorway.
So perhaps he was in a cell after all.
He glanced up at the sensor eyes of the Centurions, fingers twitching with the need for a gun. But of course he didn't have one. He had nothing. The only possible weapon he could see was to break off a table leg, and a Centurion would probably not even notice getting hit by that.
He backed off a few steps. The Centurions stayed where they were, blocking the way out.
Then he stopped, licked his lips and decided to do something crazy. All of the machines in the Cylon fleet were part biological: base ship, resurrection ship, Raiders, and Centurions. They were not the empty metal and wire machines they looked like, not entirely.
He raised his chin to address the Centurions. "I need the head." In case that bit of military slang wasn't part of their programming he clarified, "A place to relieve my bladder. Can you show me where that is?"
Sharon had to eat and do all the other messy things that came with being alive. Not as often as a human would, but it was still necessary. So then all the rest of the human-form Cylons did too. If the Centurion could bring him to the Cylon version of the head, at least he could see more of the ship and start to get an idea of the layout.
But the Centurions might as well have been statues.
"C'mon," Karl said, feeling totally insane for talking to a Chrome-job, as if it would talk back, but at least he was doing something and that made him feel slightly better. However, he was not crazy enough to go closer in case they misinterpreted what he was doing. "I'm sure you don't have the need, but I know there has to be a place. Just show me where it is. I don't want to piss all over the floor."
The left-hand Centurion lifted its right hand with its skeletal metal fingers, pointing at Karl. He stepped back, heart leaping in his chest, knowing how quickly the 'hand' could change into a weapon.
But the Centurion did nothing, just kept its hand out and Karl realized it was pointing. He turned his head and a soft hiss preceded a drawer sliding out of the wall.
He cautiously went to check it out, looking back over his shoulder at the Centurions nervously, a little creeped out. Had it actually answered him? Had the ship itself responded?
It was a toilet or maybe a sink, but it was filled with swirling water, and feeling extremely self-conscious he turned his back on the Centurions to relieve himself.
He was tucking the sheet around himself again when a voice broke the silence. "I thank you for addressing them directly."
Thinking that one of the Centurions was speaking, Karl whirled around to see one of the humanoid Cylons standing between the Centurions. It was the male one the Fleet knew as Leoben Conoy.
He was wearing brown pants and a short sleeved, button-front shirt in a pale salmon color that looked particular noxious in the bright lights and bold colors around them. It seemed to have a tiny print of multi-colored animals on it. Karl was no fashion expert, but he was pretty sure a shirt that bad must have been looted out of a Caprican thrift store.
Leoben patted the forearms of the Centurions and moved into the room. "You're the first human to ever speak to a Centurion as if it were alive. Which they are, of course, though they aren't people in the same way as you or I."
"You are not like me," Karl retorted, gritting his teeth. He knew that Kara had spent four months getting her mind frakked by one of these Leobens, perhaps this very one, and he wasn't going to start down the path of agreeing that they had anything in common.
Leoben lifted his brows and smiled, amused, "No? Well, perhaps not exactly like you. But close enough."
Karl curled his lip. "Karl C. Agathon. Captain. 1544930."
Leoben burst into laughter. "Oh, you are too much, Helo. Do you think I'm here to torture you for information?"
"I don't know what you're here for and I really don't give a frak," Karl answered back. "You're my enemy, and you get nothing from me."
Leoben shook his head, still chuckling, and he made a slow, wide circle around Karl, around to the other side of the bed. "I'm not your enemy."
It was Karl's turn to laugh at him. "Your kind blows away billions of humans and one of your model spent months mentally frakking over a friend of mine until she barely knows who she is. And I'm here, as your prisoner. What would you call it?"
Leoben hesitated and let out a short breath of irritation. "We're not all the same. After all this time with your Sharon, do you really not understand that? Or did you think you got that lucky that the one Cylon capable of individuality just happened to find you? No, Karl, you were not that lucky. You were foreseen."
Karl snorted skeptically, but inside, something quivered. Because no, he didn't believe Sharon was unique. Rare, certainly, but he was sure that her ability to turn away from her people had to be shared by the rest of them, if they had the opportunity and desire. That was why he had stopped the virus. But foreseen? As in prophecy? "That's ridiculous."
"No. It's the truth. Your part in the pattern was seen some years ago. It is why you were on Caprica, why you met Sharon, and why you're here now."
"Right. So everything was a plan." Karl sneered. "Foreseen by you, I presume?"
But Leoben shook his head, surprising Karl a little. "Not me. I see more than the others, but I'm only the messenger."
Karl frowned at that. "Messenger?"
But Leoben didn't clarify, leaving Karl to wonder what he'd meant. Messenger for whom or what? A different Leoben? One of the other Cylons? The Cylon God?
"You are a part of the plan," Leoben repeated. "You've taken one step along the path, and now I'm here to guide you the rest of the way."
Karl shook his head, now understanding why Kara had been so frakked up. Four months of this shit and he'd go crazy too.
He sat down on bed, with his back to Leoben. His naked skin twitched, expecting a blow, but he said flatly, "I'm not XO anymore; I don't have any codes for Galactica. I don't know anything important to the defense of the fleet, and anything I did know has all been changed anyway. But I know you don't believe me, so let's just get on with it."
"Oh, Karl," Leoben murmured in pity. "This has nothing to do with Galactica and the Fleet. We don't want to destroy it. If we did, it would be gone. This has everything to do with you and your destiny."
"My daughter, you mean." He shook his head, and his lips twisted of despair. "It all comes back to Hera, doesn't it?" He ran his hand across the smooth sheets and realized what this was about with a sudden cold pit opening up in his stomach. "That's why I'm alive, isn't it? That's the plan. You want more."
He glanced at the doorway, expecting to see another Sharon there. But only the two Centurions stood there, exactly where they had been, keeping an eye on everything.
"We want more from you," Leoben answered. "But not the way you think."
Karl stood up again and turned around to face Leoben, finding him uncomfortably close. How the hell had he managed to get around the end of the bed without Karl noticing? Startled, he took a step back, then cursed himself for showing the weakness. He folded his arms and stared down at Leoben. "Well, you're not going to get more. Not without using a lot more force."
"This isn't about using force," Leoben said. "We don't need to do anything against your will. I only need you to listen."
Karl sneered at him, "So far you haven't said anything worth listening to."
He was pleased that the Cylon looked frustrated. Did they actually expect that because he loved Sharon that he would be friendly to their plans?
He chuckled bitterly, "You're just as bad as Tigh and them, you know? You think because I sleep with a Cylon that I'm a traitor. Well, frak you, I'm not. I won't help you."
Karl was pretty sure he got the last word when Leoben didn't answer. But then he realized something else was happening, when Leoben's gaze lifted to see over his shoulder to the doorway. And then Leoben lowered his gaze in respect and backed away from Karl.
Someone behind him spoke then, sounding dryly amused. "Karl Agathon. Almost all of Karl Agathon. No wonder she was so impressed with you."
The voice was familiar but for a moment, his brain refused to identify who was speaking. Karl turned, with a sense of dread settling into a cold stone in his belly.
Sam Anders passed between the Centurions and into the room.
Oh Gods. Frak. Frak.
Karl stared in shock. Because it was Sam Anders, former captain of the Bucs, but also very definitely not. He looked the same, from tousled hair and sleeveless shirt down to his ratty sneakers.
But Sam's arm was bare, missing the marriage tattoo. And his gaze traveled leisurely down Karl's body making him very aware suddenly that he was wearing only a sheet, and then back up with an appreciative smirk that Sam certainly never had for Karl. This was not the Sam Anders that Karl knew. That added up to only one thing: Starbuck's husband, Cylon killer and resistance fighter, was himself a Cylon.
"Oh frak me," Karl breathed in horror.
Sam's smirk widened to a grin. "I hope we get to that later," he said, and a chill went through Karl's spine at the words.
But it got worse. Because if Sam Anders was a Cylon, then Sharon had always known and never told anyone.
"Oh, please, Karl," Sam said, "don't look so betrayed. She doesn't know."
How the hell did he -- Then Karl figured it didn't matter how Sam knew what he was thinking, and jerked his head up to confront him. "Don't lie to me. How could she not know?"
Sam cocked his head to one side. "Because none of them know. Except for my friend there," he gestured with a vague hand toward Leoben. "He knows. But he's my bridge, so he has to know. But the others are oblivious. They each see me as someone different, unless I will otherwise. Your precious Sharon has no more idea than you did that Samuel Anders is one of her own kind."
"But why?" Karl shook his head in confusion. "Keeping it a secret from your own people? It doesn't make any sense."
"It does and it will, Karl. But this isn't the time." Sam walked closer, now within touching distance, and looked straight into Karl's eyes. His expression was intent and focused, akin to the face Anders wore when he played pyramid. "I revealed myself to you because you're one of the chosen. The father of the next generation."
Karl glanced at Leoben and back to Sam as several scattered pieces seemed to coalesce into a picture. "You - the other you - and Kara..."
"It's her destiny," Leoben said, and it sounded like agreement.
Sam smiled, and the affection in it made Karl's skin crawl. "Of course, she fights it at every opportunity. But she'll realize there's no choice in this. For any of us." His gaze flickered, with sadness or resignation, before the amiable mask returned.
"But what about me?" Karl asked. "Why are you here? When am I going to get a parade of Eights, frakking me in hopes of getting pregnant?"
"I could do that. But they won't be Sharon, will they?" Sam asked. "And none of them will love you, which is more important. So it seems like a waste of everyone's time."
Karl stared at him, unnerved by the calm, reasonable words. He'd thought the Cylons were all about the breeding program.
"So then, why? If you don't want me to breed more hybrids, then what the frak am I doing here?" Karl demanded. Even if he was afraid of the answer, he had to know. Because one thing was for sure, he wasn't getting out of here alive. Sam was a Cylon, some kind of special secret Cylon, and Karl was never going to get a chance to tell the fleet.
"Because you need to learn something," Sam explained. "You're not listening to Leoben, so I had to come myself. When we're done, I'll send you back to Galactica."
Karl didn't like the sound of that. They were going to make him into a sleeper agent, turn him against the fleet. "I'm not going to betray my people!" he declared. "No matter what you do."
Sam's smile fell away in disappointment. "You don't understand, Karl. I'm not your enemy. And I'm not going to turn you against the fleet. Why should I? I want the Fleet to exist; I want them to find Earth."
"So you can destroy all the humans all at once?" Karl snarled. "I'm not helping you."
Sam gave a sigh and exchanged a glance at Leoben as though Karl were a small child being especially dense. "You sound like Roslin," he murmured. Karl stiffened, offended that anyone would lump him in the same category as Roslin.
Sam continued, "I understand that you're afraid. But Karl, use your mind. Listen. Sharon is one of mine -- you have her because of me. Think about what that means. Neither Humans nor Cylons will survive if we don't join together."
"What more do you want from me?" Karl burst out. "I married one of you. I have a child. I'm hated by most of my own kind. There's nothing else I can do."
Sam's hands framed his face and looked into his eyes. His touch was gentle but strong -- Karl couldn't have pulled free if he wanted to. He could only meet the deep eyes - there was something there, some awareness that made Karl's insides clench. Sam whispered, "I want you to believe."
Then he leaned forward and his mouth touched Karl's. Like his touch, it was gentle and yet irresistible, and it sent a wave of warmth all through him. In its wake, as Sam pulled back, Karl realized that his anxiety had evaporated.
Sam let him go, and for a moment Karl felt as though he might fall, as if the touch had been holding him up and now it was gone.
The moment of disorientation passed and Karl watched Sam regard him for another long moment in silence.
"You need time," he said finally. "Leoben will stay with you and answer your questions."
Karl couldn't find his voice in the time it took to watch Sam cross the floor, pass between the two guarding Centurions, and disappear.
"What the frak was that?" he muttered, shaking himself to try to get rid of the odd feelings still lingering in him.
Leoben didn't move from where he was leaning up against the wall. "You have been blessed, Karl Agathon."
"Blessed?" Karl repeated, trying to sound scornful. "He's a Cylon, just like you."
Leoben shook his head, paying no attention to the attempted insult. "Not like me." He pushed himself from the wall and started back to Karl. "Not like Sharon. The Final Five are the hand of God, Karl; they are not like you and I."
"They're just machines," Karl insisted and then shut his mouth, hearing the echo of Roslin and Apollo and feeling ashamed that he was saying it. So he changed what he was saying hastily, "There is no single god. There are the Lords of Kobol, and they're certainly not using Cylons as their messengers."
"Why not?" Leoben challenged, but quietly, as if he really wanted to hear the answer. "We exist, just as you do. If the Lords of Kobol exist as well, then why would they not use us, too?"
"Because..." Karl stopped, biting his lower lip, trying to figure out the answer. It was just wrong, that was why. He exclaimed, "This is pointless. I'm not going to debate religion with you. I don't discuss it with Sharon and I sure as hell am not going to debate it with you. Believe in your lonely god, if you want. And if you really think Sam is some kind of "hand of God", be my guest, but don't expect me to buy into your Cylon mysticism."
Leoben smiled and asked, "How many sides does a triangle have?"
Karl frowned at him, confused by the bizarre question. He answered, knowing it was a trick question of some kind, "Three."
Leoben corrected, "Six. Three on the inside and three on the outside. When you open your eyes, you will see the truth that everything has more sides than you think."
Karl didn't quite know what to say to that and decided to ignore it as just an attempt at frakking with his mind. "The truth is that you're my enemy, and that's all there is to it."
Leoben moved backward, toward the doorway. "You're a part of his plan, Karl. You always have been."
Karl watched him go. The Centurions moved out of his direct sight, too, though Karl could hear that they hadn't gone far. Enough to give him the illusion of privacy, that was all.
He sat down heavily on the bed, thoughts whirling in confusion.
Sam Anders was a Cylon. And he had some sort of plan for Karl.
The worst part was that Karl wasn't sure he knew how to resist something he didn't understand.
* * *
The only break in the monotony of the cell was a Centurion bringing him a tray with a bowl full of soup and a cup of water. Karl lifted one spoonful of the tan goo, smelled it, and put it back. Barely processed pure protein. It probably contained all the necessary nutrients, but he needed to be a lot hungrier before he could choke it down. He left the tray on the table.
He did some push-ups and abdomen curls for exercise and to give himself something to do. Eventually he stretched out on the bed and tried to sleep. He dozed off eventually, but woke with the sound of the Centurions at the door. He sat up, gathering the sheet around him again.
Cylon Sam again entered the room, with Leoben at his heels.
"Did you think about what I told you?" Sam asked without a greeting.
"Not much else to do in here," Karl answered with a shrug. "If you're telling me that some Cylons can make their own decisions, yeah, I get that. I'm probably the only human who does."
"I need you to understand one step beyond that," Sam answered. He came close again, standing in front of where Karl was sitting on the bed. Karl found it slightly odd to have to tilt his head back so far to look up at him. He was used to everyone else being shorter than he was and it was unnerving to realize there were Cylons just as tall.
Sam looked down at him, and the bright light of ceiling lights dazzled Karl's eyes, enough so all he could see was Sam's face. "I have one question -- be honest. Do you believe that if we continue on as we have been that both the Humans and the Cylons will survive?"
Karl thought back to the virus, and how easily the president and everyone around her had decided to wipe out the Cylons. Then he thought about the occupation of New Caprica and watching the Pegasus explode and the bombing of the Colonies. And he had to shake his head. "No."
"That's right. There are many futures, Karl. I see them." Sam moved across the floor to the table, picked up the spoon from his abandoned lunch and wrinkled his nose at the smell. "In many, the Humans all die. In others, the Cylons all die. In some, no one survives at all." He laid the spoon back into the bowl without a clink. "There is only one I can see where we both live in peace. I have been trying for awhile to move both of our people to that path."
Karl watched him, wondering. After a pause when it seemed like he should say something, he asked, "You really believe you can see the future, don't you?"
Sam turned back to him with a sudden laugh so reminiscent of Anders' it made Karl flinch. "You sound skeptical. I suppose I can't really blame you for that. I can share with you what I can see, Karl."
"You can? How?"
"I have shared with Leoben here several times, and I believe the same thing will work with a human. You will have to be willing. Your mind will have to be quiet and open."
Karl swallowed, "What do I have to do?" He was hoping meditation or prayer -- because he could do that -- but Sam seemed like he was implying something else.
Sam quirked a small wry smile. "If you were more expert at meditation that might work, but I suspect there is only one moment when you will be receptive enough."
Karl frowned, realizing how many times Sam had responded to something he hadn't spoken. The anxiety stirred up in his belly again. "Are you reading my thoughts?"
Sam nodded once. "Yes. But for you to hear me is much more difficult. That's why we need to be very close. And you need to be at your most... relaxed."
"You mean -- " Karl trailed off, not quite as shocked as he thought he should be.
Sam gave a sudden boyish grin, and his eyebrows went up. "Leoben and I will show you exactly what I mean. If you wish to join us, do. And I will show you the paths and patterns of the future, Karl. It's your choice.
He lifted his hand and crooked his finger for Leoben to come to his side.
Sam murmured to Leoben, "Let's show Karl that the path doesn't have to be only pain."
Leoben smiled at him and his voice sounded teasing as he said, "By your command."
And they kissed.
Karl immediately looked away, but soon found his gaze creeping back to watch. He licked his lips, remembering Sam's mouth on him. Not that he wanted it again, but it had felt ... good. Calming.
They were undressing each other now, Leoben pulling Sam's shirt over his head. He tossed it over the chair and they went back to kissing again, their mouths open and their hands gripped each other tightly.
Karl knew that Cylons had very different privacy ideas and he didn't think he was a prude by Colonial standards anyway. Certainly being a plebe in the Academy had made him pretty unshockable, both in the watching and the doing. But there was something different about watching two Cylons - two male Cylons - going at it, so that he couldn't turn away. He could only sit there on the bed, wide-eyed, feeling progressively warmer as their hands were all over each other's torsos, and their bodies were rubbing against each other. And then Sam started massaging Leoben through his pants and the sound Leoben made - a soft gasping moan -- hit Karl right between the legs.
He looked away, feeling his face get all hot with embarrassment. This wasn't right. He wasn't going to watch this and he certainly wasn't going to participate. He tried to tell himself that he was basically watching his wife's cousins frak each other, hoping that would cool him down, but Sam let out a long hiss and Karl couldn't help but glance back to see what was happening.
They were both naked now. Leoben was on his knees and he had one hand and his mouth on Sam's erection, sliding forward and back. Karl knew he was staring, but the motion was hypnotic, in and out. And the sounds, the little grunts and breaths and the wet sucking, played across his skin like a breeze. Until he couldn't deny that he was responding to it. The more he watched, the more his lower body seemed to tense and the more his fingers itched to put a hand on himself and join their rhythm.
Sam's heavy-lidded eyes seemed glazed at first, not in the present at all, but then he lifted his head to look right at Karl, and those eyes burned, right into him, past his reflexive denial that he was watching at all. "Karl, join us." He lifted his hand, curling his fingers for Karl to rise and walk the three steps necessary to be within touching distance.
There was a voice in the back of his head that shouted a warning and slowed his steps. He didn't stop, but he took long enough for Leoben to get back to his feet and move behind Sam, out of the way. Karl's gaze dropped, to the glistening member jutting out from Sam's body, and his jaw tightened as he found he had to swallow.
Sam's hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss. But there was nothing gentle about it this time, as the lips coaxed his mouth open and his tongue probed deep and urgent. Karl no longer remembered where he was or considered saying no -- he was lost in the want sweeping through him and kissed back just as hungrily.
Sam's big hands were exploring over his shoulders, arms, chest, flanks, and his back before coming to rest on Karl's hips, while he pressed his groin into Karl's. The sheet was no barrier to feeling Sam's need rubbing against him, or how it was sparking his own. Then there were suddenly an extra pair of hands at his waist, and the sheet was pulled loose.
Karl's eyes snapped open as the sheet slithered down his legs to the floor. He met Leoben's mischievous gaze over Sam's shoulder, and a smile that widened to a smirk as someone's hand gripped his cock and Karl sucked in a breath through his teeth in surprise.
The hand stroked him a few times, tightening him up, before stopping, but only to rub him against Sam's. At first it was the heads nudging each other and then the full lengths sliding on each other.
"I don't normally -- do this sort of thing." Karl's throat closed up and his mouth opened to find enough air. One hand, probably Leoben's -- since he thought Sam's hands had returned to his hips, fingers clutching his ass -- turned to grip them both, pumping them against the hand and each other. "Oh gods, that's really good," he groaned and tipped his head to rest it on Sam's shoulder.
Sam chuckled lowly. "We so rarely get someone new to play with us," he murmured and turned his head to nuzzle under Karl's ear and tug on his earlobe with his teeth. "You feel so ... perfect," he groaned.
Karl had his hands clasping Sam's lower back and he felt when the muscles there tightened up, an instant before Sam said, "Stop. I'm too close. We need the bed."
A very embarrassing complaining whine came out of Karl's mouth, as the hand let go, and Sam stepped away.
Both Karl and Leoben followed him to the bed. He knelt there for a moment, his eyes closed, and body still as a statue.
But then he frowned and opened his eyes again, shaking his head a little. "Almost. Karl, come here." And he tugged Karl face-to-face with him, pulled him in to kiss again, and laid back on the bed. Karl straddled his body, on his hands and knees, really enjoying the feel of being above him like this -- it felt like he could do whatever he wanted. He dipped his head to kiss him, even as he lowered his hips and rubbed himself across the muscular thighs, firm erection, and up to the softer plane of his abdomen. After a moment, he had found a rhythm of sliding together, made slick by their sweat, his full body against Sam's with their erections trapped between them in pleasurable confinement. It was, in fact, so intensely arousing feeling Sam squirm under him and hearing his choked prayers to God, that Karl forgot there was someone else in bed with them
Until he felt the hands on his hips, holding him still. And beneath him Sam smirked lazily up at him, fingers brushing across lips that felt bruised -- "Relax," he coaxed, "Let me in, Karl."
He was pretty sure it was not in fact Sam's fingers sliding into him at all. But he did try to relax and breathe, something which seemed impossible when Sam pulled his head back down. His tongue slipped back into Karl's mouth, in erotic echo of the other penetration down below. All Karl could do was hold still, captured between them - and a fine hot wire stretched through his body, and it vibrated whenever Leoben moved his fingers.
And there was another hand on his erection, rubbing him with slick intent.
"Oh gods, oh gods, don't stop," he pleaded in broken breaths, knowing he was close. Gods, so close. He was so tight it was the knife-edge of pain.
Then Sam raised his hips to thrust against Karl again, and it was just enough.
The pleasure shot up through him and his hands curled into fists, gripping the bed. He held his breath and then let it out in a groan, arms shaking with the effort of holding himself up.
Then he gave it up, letting his lower body collapse on Sam's as he tried to remember how to breathe.
He felt empty and replete, at peace. He could stay there forever, not worried that his greater size would crush Sam beneath him.
"Yes," Sam said, but not in agreement with anything. "Now." He held Karl's face between his hands and there was nothing of lust in his face, only focused intent, as he stared into Karl's eyes.
Those eyes and the rest of the room faded into the night... a darkness that soon flickererd with bright images...
Dying Cylons, lying on the floor, gasping for breath...
Colonial One exploding in a fireball...
A planet from space, a blue and green and white marble, turning brown right before his eyes...
Galactica, alone in space, and the Cylon Cavil in CIC and the last remnants of humanity floating out the airlock...
Basestars writhing and twitching like dying spiders...
Humans and Centurions firing on each other...
Red blood ... so much red blood all over a black floor that could have been the floor of a basestar or the floor of the Galactica...
So much blood and death. It was all he could see.
And yet, no. That wasn't all. There...
An older Hera, with Sharon holding her. And a brown haired little boy rolling around a pyramid ball while Kara and Sam grinned at him and each other...
... and more children and more faces - some Cylon - too many for Karl to see.
It stopped.
Karl was gasping for breath again, shaking, feeling as though he had been drowning. His mind still flooded with the images, he stared at Sam in amazement and just a little awe. "Oh my gods," he whispered. "It's true. You really do see it."
Sam inhaled a deep breath and nodded once. "Yes. I do. Even more that I didn't share with you. So many paths lead to so much death..." He shut his eyes and looked unbearably weary. "There is only one chance for both our peoples to survive. Some of mine don't want that, just as some humans don't want that. I do. I want us to unite and be at peace. I have a few who follow me, pieces I've tried to put in place to bring us to the path... but not many."
He trailed off and Leoben, who had stretched out next to them, murmured, "A stone can change the course of the stream, but if the stream grows to a river, it's too late."
"Yes," Sam agreed with a sigh. "I see patterns, I see futures unfolding moment by moment as they shift, but not everything. I have power, but I'm not God, Karl. This destiny we want is a fragile thing, and so many things can go wrong."
Karl felt like he was standing on the edge of some great abyss - it was terrifying and yet exhilarating all at once. From this there would be no turning back. But he had no choice, not after seeing what Sam could see. He believed. He cleared his throat and asked, "What do you want me to do?"
Sam opened his eyes and looked up, seeming relieved by Karl's offer. "Mostly to keep doing what you do," Sam said. He ran his hands around the back of Karl's shorn hair and ended with his shoulders in a light, absent caress. "And try to keep the other me -- the other Sam -- safe. Don't tell anyone what you know about him, him least of all. It's not time yet." He smiled, wry humor lifting his lips and crinkling his eyes, "And if you and Sharon should have another child, that would be ... helpful."
Karl chuckled. "I'm sure." He had the amusing thought that Sam was still running a Cylon resistance, only this time from within. But the impulse to humor died away as he looked into Sam's eyes and for just one instant, he could feel the echo of the terrible weight of the burden that he carried. He knew he could never carry it. But perhaps he could help a little.
He glanced to the side, and Leoben gave him a lifted eyebrow and a meaningful glance back at Sam.
Sam started to wriggle out from beneath him. "We should get cleaned up. Your clothes are under the bed. There's a Raptor in the hangar deck --"
Karl stopped him with a hand on his chest and a grin. "Not yet. You blew my mind, and you didn't even get off. I don't think that's fair."
Sam stopped, looking startled. "Karl?"
"Didn't foresee this, I guess?" he teased and slid a hand between them. Sam's stomach was slick and sticky from Karl's release, but that just helped his hand slide on Sam's cock more easily.
"No -" Sam bit out, "I didn't."
"Good," Karl said, with a smirk of his own. "It makes you more human."
There was nothing alien or god-like about him at all as Karl's fist pumped him, bringing him to the brink fast and hard. It was very human, watching the sweat gather on his face and his mouth open for his panting breaths.
But when he came it was in total silence. His eyes opened wide and he didn't blink. Karl wasn't even sure he was breathing. Alarm crept through him, until he felt a hand on his arm.
"It's all right," Leoben murmured. "We're all at our most open at climax, especially him. He'll be a few minutes."
Karl was not entirely surprised when a few minutes later, Sam blinked and returned to the present with a sudden sense of urgency. "We need to get you in your clothes and out of here."
He didn't explain why, but Karl did as he was bid, until they were standing at the base of the Raptor ramp.
Sam gifted him with one last kiss, this one bitter with farewell and sorrow. "I trust in your good sense. There's no harm in telling Adama that there are other Cylons who believe in peace and let you go. You don't need to lie about everything, just me."
"Will I see you again?" Karl asked then laughed at himself. "I mean, I know I'll see Anders again. But you?"
Sam shrugged. "There are many futures, Karl. Some yes, some no. But I think yes -- as we approach the destiny we both seek, we'll meet again."
"Good. I'll see you then. Be careful," Karl said, meaning it, and punched the button to lift the ramp.
By the time he reached the front and sat in the pilot's seat, the hangar was empty.
* * *
Later it was difficult to look at his friend across the makeshift pyramid court and say nothing. It was worse when Anders tripped him and Karl fell on top of him. He could feel every inch of that now-familiar body beneath him, and a sharp feeling of desire went through him like a hot wind. He clenched his jaw and held still.
Panting, Anders grinned up at him. He tapped Karl on the shoulder with the ball, "Not that this isn't exciting, Helo --"
"Shut up, Anders." Karl rolled off him before he said -- or did -- something he'd regret.
But keeping the secret was a lot easier when he held his daughter and remembered that glimpse of another hybrid child.
They all had to be free to find their destiny.
fin
-
Pairing: Helo/Leoben/Male Cylon Surprise
Rating: ADULT
Warning: m/m(/m) sex. possible dub-con issues, but nothing overt.
Wordcount: ~ 6800
Written for: wolfram9999 in the Helo ShAgathon . I hope this is close to what you wanted!
Beta: I want to thank Mr. Spellchecker, my best buddy, and emergency beta. Feel free to point out any stupidity I missed.
Spoilers: Rapture. Set in 3.5, but in some AU one step to the left in which Helo still flies Raptors. oops. my bad. *g* (and the final five thing? SPECULATION)
Summary: Captured, Helo discovers the face of one of the Final Five. And that he's not as alone as he thought.
A/N: Most of this fic is more, um, theological than porn, though there is definitely porn too, past the first scene break. It's not, however, the non-con scenario you'd expect from the pairing.
Still, if slash isn't your cuppa, the Gen, slash-free version is available HERE.
Consciousness returned all at once, alarm speeding through Karl like a Viper at full.
He'd been on long-range CAP, and an entire squad of Raiders had jumped practically on top of him. He had no idea whether his message had gone out or they'd jammed it. The last thing he remembered were the Cylon Raider tracers heading right for him -- He shouldn't be alive
He sat up, eyes snapping open.
What the frak?
He saw gray metal walls, harsh white light in the ceiling and pulsing red and blue lights in stripes along the walls. The room itself was large, ten meters on a side, and mostly empty. The air seemed warmer than Galactica, and it was humid enough his forehead was sweating. And there was no comforting vibration of the drive engines or the whirr of the air circulation system; instead the primary noise seemed to be an odd low thumping sound.
There was also one doorway, which opened into a corridor that looked much the same.
He pushed aside the silky cream-colored sheets of the large bed he was sitting on, and his eyes flared wide, realizing he was naked.
Apprehension replaced confusion as a heavy weight in his gut.
This wasn't Galactica. This place wasn't human, at all. Only the bed and the small wooden table and chairs on the other side of the room looked human -- and completely incongruous.
Everything else was strange and sterile, but fit for a race who could make their surroundings appear to be wherever they wished...
He swallowed hard. This was bad.
He wasn't sure if it was a good thing that he didn't know if Galactica knew the Cylons had found him or not. He didn't want them to think he'd just vanished, and never know -- but nor did he want Sharon to get in her head to try to come find him.
Gods, please don't let Sharon do anything stupid, he prayed, hoping that the Lords of Kobol could hear him from the inside of a Cylon Basestar. Let her stay with Hera. I'll find my own way out.
Wrapping the sheet around his waist, he decided to try to find his way out. He wasn't in a cell and he should take advantage of it. Maybe they didn't know he was awake yet. If he could find the hangar and maybe a Raptor, just like the one Sharon and Caprica had stolen, he could get away...
The metallic grinding sound of servos silenced that train of thought, before two Centurions moved into view and planted themselves in the doorway.
So perhaps he was in a cell after all.
He glanced up at the sensor eyes of the Centurions, fingers twitching with the need for a gun. But of course he didn't have one. He had nothing. The only possible weapon he could see was to break off a table leg, and a Centurion would probably not even notice getting hit by that.
He backed off a few steps. The Centurions stayed where they were, blocking the way out.
Then he stopped, licked his lips and decided to do something crazy. All of the machines in the Cylon fleet were part biological: base ship, resurrection ship, Raiders, and Centurions. They were not the empty metal and wire machines they looked like, not entirely.
He raised his chin to address the Centurions. "I need the head." In case that bit of military slang wasn't part of their programming he clarified, "A place to relieve my bladder. Can you show me where that is?"
Sharon had to eat and do all the other messy things that came with being alive. Not as often as a human would, but it was still necessary. So then all the rest of the human-form Cylons did too. If the Centurion could bring him to the Cylon version of the head, at least he could see more of the ship and start to get an idea of the layout.
But the Centurions might as well have been statues.
"C'mon," Karl said, feeling totally insane for talking to a Chrome-job, as if it would talk back, but at least he was doing something and that made him feel slightly better. However, he was not crazy enough to go closer in case they misinterpreted what he was doing. "I'm sure you don't have the need, but I know there has to be a place. Just show me where it is. I don't want to piss all over the floor."
The left-hand Centurion lifted its right hand with its skeletal metal fingers, pointing at Karl. He stepped back, heart leaping in his chest, knowing how quickly the 'hand' could change into a weapon.
But the Centurion did nothing, just kept its hand out and Karl realized it was pointing. He turned his head and a soft hiss preceded a drawer sliding out of the wall.
He cautiously went to check it out, looking back over his shoulder at the Centurions nervously, a little creeped out. Had it actually answered him? Had the ship itself responded?
It was a toilet or maybe a sink, but it was filled with swirling water, and feeling extremely self-conscious he turned his back on the Centurions to relieve himself.
He was tucking the sheet around himself again when a voice broke the silence. "I thank you for addressing them directly."
Thinking that one of the Centurions was speaking, Karl whirled around to see one of the humanoid Cylons standing between the Centurions. It was the male one the Fleet knew as Leoben Conoy.
He was wearing brown pants and a short sleeved, button-front shirt in a pale salmon color that looked particular noxious in the bright lights and bold colors around them. It seemed to have a tiny print of multi-colored animals on it. Karl was no fashion expert, but he was pretty sure a shirt that bad must have been looted out of a Caprican thrift store.
Leoben patted the forearms of the Centurions and moved into the room. "You're the first human to ever speak to a Centurion as if it were alive. Which they are, of course, though they aren't people in the same way as you or I."
"You are not like me," Karl retorted, gritting his teeth. He knew that Kara had spent four months getting her mind frakked by one of these Leobens, perhaps this very one, and he wasn't going to start down the path of agreeing that they had anything in common.
Leoben lifted his brows and smiled, amused, "No? Well, perhaps not exactly like you. But close enough."
Karl curled his lip. "Karl C. Agathon. Captain. 1544930."
Leoben burst into laughter. "Oh, you are too much, Helo. Do you think I'm here to torture you for information?"
"I don't know what you're here for and I really don't give a frak," Karl answered back. "You're my enemy, and you get nothing from me."
Leoben shook his head, still chuckling, and he made a slow, wide circle around Karl, around to the other side of the bed. "I'm not your enemy."
It was Karl's turn to laugh at him. "Your kind blows away billions of humans and one of your model spent months mentally frakking over a friend of mine until she barely knows who she is. And I'm here, as your prisoner. What would you call it?"
Leoben hesitated and let out a short breath of irritation. "We're not all the same. After all this time with your Sharon, do you really not understand that? Or did you think you got that lucky that the one Cylon capable of individuality just happened to find you? No, Karl, you were not that lucky. You were foreseen."
Karl snorted skeptically, but inside, something quivered. Because no, he didn't believe Sharon was unique. Rare, certainly, but he was sure that her ability to turn away from her people had to be shared by the rest of them, if they had the opportunity and desire. That was why he had stopped the virus. But foreseen? As in prophecy? "That's ridiculous."
"No. It's the truth. Your part in the pattern was seen some years ago. It is why you were on Caprica, why you met Sharon, and why you're here now."
"Right. So everything was a plan." Karl sneered. "Foreseen by you, I presume?"
But Leoben shook his head, surprising Karl a little. "Not me. I see more than the others, but I'm only the messenger."
Karl frowned at that. "Messenger?"
But Leoben didn't clarify, leaving Karl to wonder what he'd meant. Messenger for whom or what? A different Leoben? One of the other Cylons? The Cylon God?
"You are a part of the plan," Leoben repeated. "You've taken one step along the path, and now I'm here to guide you the rest of the way."
Karl shook his head, now understanding why Kara had been so frakked up. Four months of this shit and he'd go crazy too.
He sat down on bed, with his back to Leoben. His naked skin twitched, expecting a blow, but he said flatly, "I'm not XO anymore; I don't have any codes for Galactica. I don't know anything important to the defense of the fleet, and anything I did know has all been changed anyway. But I know you don't believe me, so let's just get on with it."
"Oh, Karl," Leoben murmured in pity. "This has nothing to do with Galactica and the Fleet. We don't want to destroy it. If we did, it would be gone. This has everything to do with you and your destiny."
"My daughter, you mean." He shook his head, and his lips twisted of despair. "It all comes back to Hera, doesn't it?" He ran his hand across the smooth sheets and realized what this was about with a sudden cold pit opening up in his stomach. "That's why I'm alive, isn't it? That's the plan. You want more."
He glanced at the doorway, expecting to see another Sharon there. But only the two Centurions stood there, exactly where they had been, keeping an eye on everything.
"We want more from you," Leoben answered. "But not the way you think."
Karl stood up again and turned around to face Leoben, finding him uncomfortably close. How the hell had he managed to get around the end of the bed without Karl noticing? Startled, he took a step back, then cursed himself for showing the weakness. He folded his arms and stared down at Leoben. "Well, you're not going to get more. Not without using a lot more force."
"This isn't about using force," Leoben said. "We don't need to do anything against your will. I only need you to listen."
Karl sneered at him, "So far you haven't said anything worth listening to."
He was pleased that the Cylon looked frustrated. Did they actually expect that because he loved Sharon that he would be friendly to their plans?
He chuckled bitterly, "You're just as bad as Tigh and them, you know? You think because I sleep with a Cylon that I'm a traitor. Well, frak you, I'm not. I won't help you."
Karl was pretty sure he got the last word when Leoben didn't answer. But then he realized something else was happening, when Leoben's gaze lifted to see over his shoulder to the doorway. And then Leoben lowered his gaze in respect and backed away from Karl.
Someone behind him spoke then, sounding dryly amused. "Karl Agathon. Almost all of Karl Agathon. No wonder she was so impressed with you."
The voice was familiar but for a moment, his brain refused to identify who was speaking. Karl turned, with a sense of dread settling into a cold stone in his belly.
Sam Anders passed between the Centurions and into the room.
Oh Gods. Frak. Frak.
Karl stared in shock. Because it was Sam Anders, former captain of the Bucs, but also very definitely not. He looked the same, from tousled hair and sleeveless shirt down to his ratty sneakers.
But Sam's arm was bare, missing the marriage tattoo. And his gaze traveled leisurely down Karl's body making him very aware suddenly that he was wearing only a sheet, and then back up with an appreciative smirk that Sam certainly never had for Karl. This was not the Sam Anders that Karl knew. That added up to only one thing: Starbuck's husband, Cylon killer and resistance fighter, was himself a Cylon.
"Oh frak me," Karl breathed in horror.
Sam's smirk widened to a grin. "I hope we get to that later," he said, and a chill went through Karl's spine at the words.
But it got worse. Because if Sam Anders was a Cylon, then Sharon had always known and never told anyone.
"Oh, please, Karl," Sam said, "don't look so betrayed. She doesn't know."
How the hell did he -- Then Karl figured it didn't matter how Sam knew what he was thinking, and jerked his head up to confront him. "Don't lie to me. How could she not know?"
Sam cocked his head to one side. "Because none of them know. Except for my friend there," he gestured with a vague hand toward Leoben. "He knows. But he's my bridge, so he has to know. But the others are oblivious. They each see me as someone different, unless I will otherwise. Your precious Sharon has no more idea than you did that Samuel Anders is one of her own kind."
"But why?" Karl shook his head in confusion. "Keeping it a secret from your own people? It doesn't make any sense."
"It does and it will, Karl. But this isn't the time." Sam walked closer, now within touching distance, and looked straight into Karl's eyes. His expression was intent and focused, akin to the face Anders wore when he played pyramid. "I revealed myself to you because you're one of the chosen. The father of the next generation."
Karl glanced at Leoben and back to Sam as several scattered pieces seemed to coalesce into a picture. "You - the other you - and Kara..."
"It's her destiny," Leoben said, and it sounded like agreement.
Sam smiled, and the affection in it made Karl's skin crawl. "Of course, she fights it at every opportunity. But she'll realize there's no choice in this. For any of us." His gaze flickered, with sadness or resignation, before the amiable mask returned.
"But what about me?" Karl asked. "Why are you here? When am I going to get a parade of Eights, frakking me in hopes of getting pregnant?"
"I could do that. But they won't be Sharon, will they?" Sam asked. "And none of them will love you, which is more important. So it seems like a waste of everyone's time."
Karl stared at him, unnerved by the calm, reasonable words. He'd thought the Cylons were all about the breeding program.
"So then, why? If you don't want me to breed more hybrids, then what the frak am I doing here?" Karl demanded. Even if he was afraid of the answer, he had to know. Because one thing was for sure, he wasn't getting out of here alive. Sam was a Cylon, some kind of special secret Cylon, and Karl was never going to get a chance to tell the fleet.
"Because you need to learn something," Sam explained. "You're not listening to Leoben, so I had to come myself. When we're done, I'll send you back to Galactica."
Karl didn't like the sound of that. They were going to make him into a sleeper agent, turn him against the fleet. "I'm not going to betray my people!" he declared. "No matter what you do."
Sam's smile fell away in disappointment. "You don't understand, Karl. I'm not your enemy. And I'm not going to turn you against the fleet. Why should I? I want the Fleet to exist; I want them to find Earth."
"So you can destroy all the humans all at once?" Karl snarled. "I'm not helping you."
Sam gave a sigh and exchanged a glance at Leoben as though Karl were a small child being especially dense. "You sound like Roslin," he murmured. Karl stiffened, offended that anyone would lump him in the same category as Roslin.
Sam continued, "I understand that you're afraid. But Karl, use your mind. Listen. Sharon is one of mine -- you have her because of me. Think about what that means. Neither Humans nor Cylons will survive if we don't join together."
"What more do you want from me?" Karl burst out. "I married one of you. I have a child. I'm hated by most of my own kind. There's nothing else I can do."
Sam's hands framed his face and looked into his eyes. His touch was gentle but strong -- Karl couldn't have pulled free if he wanted to. He could only meet the deep eyes - there was something there, some awareness that made Karl's insides clench. Sam whispered, "I want you to believe."
Then he leaned forward and his mouth touched Karl's. Like his touch, it was gentle and yet irresistible, and it sent a wave of warmth all through him. In its wake, as Sam pulled back, Karl realized that his anxiety had evaporated.
Sam let him go, and for a moment Karl felt as though he might fall, as if the touch had been holding him up and now it was gone.
The moment of disorientation passed and Karl watched Sam regard him for another long moment in silence.
"You need time," he said finally. "Leoben will stay with you and answer your questions."
Karl couldn't find his voice in the time it took to watch Sam cross the floor, pass between the two guarding Centurions, and disappear.
"What the frak was that?" he muttered, shaking himself to try to get rid of the odd feelings still lingering in him.
Leoben didn't move from where he was leaning up against the wall. "You have been blessed, Karl Agathon."
"Blessed?" Karl repeated, trying to sound scornful. "He's a Cylon, just like you."
Leoben shook his head, paying no attention to the attempted insult. "Not like me." He pushed himself from the wall and started back to Karl. "Not like Sharon. The Final Five are the hand of God, Karl; they are not like you and I."
"They're just machines," Karl insisted and then shut his mouth, hearing the echo of Roslin and Apollo and feeling ashamed that he was saying it. So he changed what he was saying hastily, "There is no single god. There are the Lords of Kobol, and they're certainly not using Cylons as their messengers."
"Why not?" Leoben challenged, but quietly, as if he really wanted to hear the answer. "We exist, just as you do. If the Lords of Kobol exist as well, then why would they not use us, too?"
"Because..." Karl stopped, biting his lower lip, trying to figure out the answer. It was just wrong, that was why. He exclaimed, "This is pointless. I'm not going to debate religion with you. I don't discuss it with Sharon and I sure as hell am not going to debate it with you. Believe in your lonely god, if you want. And if you really think Sam is some kind of "hand of God", be my guest, but don't expect me to buy into your Cylon mysticism."
Leoben smiled and asked, "How many sides does a triangle have?"
Karl frowned at him, confused by the bizarre question. He answered, knowing it was a trick question of some kind, "Three."
Leoben corrected, "Six. Three on the inside and three on the outside. When you open your eyes, you will see the truth that everything has more sides than you think."
Karl didn't quite know what to say to that and decided to ignore it as just an attempt at frakking with his mind. "The truth is that you're my enemy, and that's all there is to it."
Leoben moved backward, toward the doorway. "You're a part of his plan, Karl. You always have been."
Karl watched him go. The Centurions moved out of his direct sight, too, though Karl could hear that they hadn't gone far. Enough to give him the illusion of privacy, that was all.
He sat down heavily on the bed, thoughts whirling in confusion.
Sam Anders was a Cylon. And he had some sort of plan for Karl.
The worst part was that Karl wasn't sure he knew how to resist something he didn't understand.
* * *
The only break in the monotony of the cell was a Centurion bringing him a tray with a bowl full of soup and a cup of water. Karl lifted one spoonful of the tan goo, smelled it, and put it back. Barely processed pure protein. It probably contained all the necessary nutrients, but he needed to be a lot hungrier before he could choke it down. He left the tray on the table.
He did some push-ups and abdomen curls for exercise and to give himself something to do. Eventually he stretched out on the bed and tried to sleep. He dozed off eventually, but woke with the sound of the Centurions at the door. He sat up, gathering the sheet around him again.
Cylon Sam again entered the room, with Leoben at his heels.
"Did you think about what I told you?" Sam asked without a greeting.
"Not much else to do in here," Karl answered with a shrug. "If you're telling me that some Cylons can make their own decisions, yeah, I get that. I'm probably the only human who does."
"I need you to understand one step beyond that," Sam answered. He came close again, standing in front of where Karl was sitting on the bed. Karl found it slightly odd to have to tilt his head back so far to look up at him. He was used to everyone else being shorter than he was and it was unnerving to realize there were Cylons just as tall.
Sam looked down at him, and the bright light of ceiling lights dazzled Karl's eyes, enough so all he could see was Sam's face. "I have one question -- be honest. Do you believe that if we continue on as we have been that both the Humans and the Cylons will survive?"
Karl thought back to the virus, and how easily the president and everyone around her had decided to wipe out the Cylons. Then he thought about the occupation of New Caprica and watching the Pegasus explode and the bombing of the Colonies. And he had to shake his head. "No."
"That's right. There are many futures, Karl. I see them." Sam moved across the floor to the table, picked up the spoon from his abandoned lunch and wrinkled his nose at the smell. "In many, the Humans all die. In others, the Cylons all die. In some, no one survives at all." He laid the spoon back into the bowl without a clink. "There is only one I can see where we both live in peace. I have been trying for awhile to move both of our people to that path."
Karl watched him, wondering. After a pause when it seemed like he should say something, he asked, "You really believe you can see the future, don't you?"
Sam turned back to him with a sudden laugh so reminiscent of Anders' it made Karl flinch. "You sound skeptical. I suppose I can't really blame you for that. I can share with you what I can see, Karl."
"You can? How?"
"I have shared with Leoben here several times, and I believe the same thing will work with a human. You will have to be willing. Your mind will have to be quiet and open."
Karl swallowed, "What do I have to do?" He was hoping meditation or prayer -- because he could do that -- but Sam seemed like he was implying something else.
Sam quirked a small wry smile. "If you were more expert at meditation that might work, but I suspect there is only one moment when you will be receptive enough."
Karl frowned, realizing how many times Sam had responded to something he hadn't spoken. The anxiety stirred up in his belly again. "Are you reading my thoughts?"
Sam nodded once. "Yes. But for you to hear me is much more difficult. That's why we need to be very close. And you need to be at your most... relaxed."
"You mean -- " Karl trailed off, not quite as shocked as he thought he should be.
Sam gave a sudden boyish grin, and his eyebrows went up. "Leoben and I will show you exactly what I mean. If you wish to join us, do. And I will show you the paths and patterns of the future, Karl. It's your choice.
He lifted his hand and crooked his finger for Leoben to come to his side.
Sam murmured to Leoben, "Let's show Karl that the path doesn't have to be only pain."
Leoben smiled at him and his voice sounded teasing as he said, "By your command."
And they kissed.
Karl immediately looked away, but soon found his gaze creeping back to watch. He licked his lips, remembering Sam's mouth on him. Not that he wanted it again, but it had felt ... good. Calming.
They were undressing each other now, Leoben pulling Sam's shirt over his head. He tossed it over the chair and they went back to kissing again, their mouths open and their hands gripped each other tightly.
Karl knew that Cylons had very different privacy ideas and he didn't think he was a prude by Colonial standards anyway. Certainly being a plebe in the Academy had made him pretty unshockable, both in the watching and the doing. But there was something different about watching two Cylons - two male Cylons - going at it, so that he couldn't turn away. He could only sit there on the bed, wide-eyed, feeling progressively warmer as their hands were all over each other's torsos, and their bodies were rubbing against each other. And then Sam started massaging Leoben through his pants and the sound Leoben made - a soft gasping moan -- hit Karl right between the legs.
He looked away, feeling his face get all hot with embarrassment. This wasn't right. He wasn't going to watch this and he certainly wasn't going to participate. He tried to tell himself that he was basically watching his wife's cousins frak each other, hoping that would cool him down, but Sam let out a long hiss and Karl couldn't help but glance back to see what was happening.
They were both naked now. Leoben was on his knees and he had one hand and his mouth on Sam's erection, sliding forward and back. Karl knew he was staring, but the motion was hypnotic, in and out. And the sounds, the little grunts and breaths and the wet sucking, played across his skin like a breeze. Until he couldn't deny that he was responding to it. The more he watched, the more his lower body seemed to tense and the more his fingers itched to put a hand on himself and join their rhythm.
Sam's heavy-lidded eyes seemed glazed at first, not in the present at all, but then he lifted his head to look right at Karl, and those eyes burned, right into him, past his reflexive denial that he was watching at all. "Karl, join us." He lifted his hand, curling his fingers for Karl to rise and walk the three steps necessary to be within touching distance.
There was a voice in the back of his head that shouted a warning and slowed his steps. He didn't stop, but he took long enough for Leoben to get back to his feet and move behind Sam, out of the way. Karl's gaze dropped, to the glistening member jutting out from Sam's body, and his jaw tightened as he found he had to swallow.
Sam's hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss. But there was nothing gentle about it this time, as the lips coaxed his mouth open and his tongue probed deep and urgent. Karl no longer remembered where he was or considered saying no -- he was lost in the want sweeping through him and kissed back just as hungrily.
Sam's big hands were exploring over his shoulders, arms, chest, flanks, and his back before coming to rest on Karl's hips, while he pressed his groin into Karl's. The sheet was no barrier to feeling Sam's need rubbing against him, or how it was sparking his own. Then there were suddenly an extra pair of hands at his waist, and the sheet was pulled loose.
Karl's eyes snapped open as the sheet slithered down his legs to the floor. He met Leoben's mischievous gaze over Sam's shoulder, and a smile that widened to a smirk as someone's hand gripped his cock and Karl sucked in a breath through his teeth in surprise.
The hand stroked him a few times, tightening him up, before stopping, but only to rub him against Sam's. At first it was the heads nudging each other and then the full lengths sliding on each other.
"I don't normally -- do this sort of thing." Karl's throat closed up and his mouth opened to find enough air. One hand, probably Leoben's -- since he thought Sam's hands had returned to his hips, fingers clutching his ass -- turned to grip them both, pumping them against the hand and each other. "Oh gods, that's really good," he groaned and tipped his head to rest it on Sam's shoulder.
Sam chuckled lowly. "We so rarely get someone new to play with us," he murmured and turned his head to nuzzle under Karl's ear and tug on his earlobe with his teeth. "You feel so ... perfect," he groaned.
Karl had his hands clasping Sam's lower back and he felt when the muscles there tightened up, an instant before Sam said, "Stop. I'm too close. We need the bed."
A very embarrassing complaining whine came out of Karl's mouth, as the hand let go, and Sam stepped away.
Both Karl and Leoben followed him to the bed. He knelt there for a moment, his eyes closed, and body still as a statue.
But then he frowned and opened his eyes again, shaking his head a little. "Almost. Karl, come here." And he tugged Karl face-to-face with him, pulled him in to kiss again, and laid back on the bed. Karl straddled his body, on his hands and knees, really enjoying the feel of being above him like this -- it felt like he could do whatever he wanted. He dipped his head to kiss him, even as he lowered his hips and rubbed himself across the muscular thighs, firm erection, and up to the softer plane of his abdomen. After a moment, he had found a rhythm of sliding together, made slick by their sweat, his full body against Sam's with their erections trapped between them in pleasurable confinement. It was, in fact, so intensely arousing feeling Sam squirm under him and hearing his choked prayers to God, that Karl forgot there was someone else in bed with them
Until he felt the hands on his hips, holding him still. And beneath him Sam smirked lazily up at him, fingers brushing across lips that felt bruised -- "Relax," he coaxed, "Let me in, Karl."
He was pretty sure it was not in fact Sam's fingers sliding into him at all. But he did try to relax and breathe, something which seemed impossible when Sam pulled his head back down. His tongue slipped back into Karl's mouth, in erotic echo of the other penetration down below. All Karl could do was hold still, captured between them - and a fine hot wire stretched through his body, and it vibrated whenever Leoben moved his fingers.
And there was another hand on his erection, rubbing him with slick intent.
"Oh gods, oh gods, don't stop," he pleaded in broken breaths, knowing he was close. Gods, so close. He was so tight it was the knife-edge of pain.
Then Sam raised his hips to thrust against Karl again, and it was just enough.
The pleasure shot up through him and his hands curled into fists, gripping the bed. He held his breath and then let it out in a groan, arms shaking with the effort of holding himself up.
Then he gave it up, letting his lower body collapse on Sam's as he tried to remember how to breathe.
He felt empty and replete, at peace. He could stay there forever, not worried that his greater size would crush Sam beneath him.
"Yes," Sam said, but not in agreement with anything. "Now." He held Karl's face between his hands and there was nothing of lust in his face, only focused intent, as he stared into Karl's eyes.
Those eyes and the rest of the room faded into the night... a darkness that soon flickererd with bright images...
Dying Cylons, lying on the floor, gasping for breath...
Colonial One exploding in a fireball...
A planet from space, a blue and green and white marble, turning brown right before his eyes...
Galactica, alone in space, and the Cylon Cavil in CIC and the last remnants of humanity floating out the airlock...
Basestars writhing and twitching like dying spiders...
Humans and Centurions firing on each other...
Red blood ... so much red blood all over a black floor that could have been the floor of a basestar or the floor of the Galactica...
So much blood and death. It was all he could see.
And yet, no. That wasn't all. There...
An older Hera, with Sharon holding her. And a brown haired little boy rolling around a pyramid ball while Kara and Sam grinned at him and each other...
... and more children and more faces - some Cylon - too many for Karl to see.
It stopped.
Karl was gasping for breath again, shaking, feeling as though he had been drowning. His mind still flooded with the images, he stared at Sam in amazement and just a little awe. "Oh my gods," he whispered. "It's true. You really do see it."
Sam inhaled a deep breath and nodded once. "Yes. I do. Even more that I didn't share with you. So many paths lead to so much death..." He shut his eyes and looked unbearably weary. "There is only one chance for both our peoples to survive. Some of mine don't want that, just as some humans don't want that. I do. I want us to unite and be at peace. I have a few who follow me, pieces I've tried to put in place to bring us to the path... but not many."
He trailed off and Leoben, who had stretched out next to them, murmured, "A stone can change the course of the stream, but if the stream grows to a river, it's too late."
"Yes," Sam agreed with a sigh. "I see patterns, I see futures unfolding moment by moment as they shift, but not everything. I have power, but I'm not God, Karl. This destiny we want is a fragile thing, and so many things can go wrong."
Karl felt like he was standing on the edge of some great abyss - it was terrifying and yet exhilarating all at once. From this there would be no turning back. But he had no choice, not after seeing what Sam could see. He believed. He cleared his throat and asked, "What do you want me to do?"
Sam opened his eyes and looked up, seeming relieved by Karl's offer. "Mostly to keep doing what you do," Sam said. He ran his hands around the back of Karl's shorn hair and ended with his shoulders in a light, absent caress. "And try to keep the other me -- the other Sam -- safe. Don't tell anyone what you know about him, him least of all. It's not time yet." He smiled, wry humor lifting his lips and crinkling his eyes, "And if you and Sharon should have another child, that would be ... helpful."
Karl chuckled. "I'm sure." He had the amusing thought that Sam was still running a Cylon resistance, only this time from within. But the impulse to humor died away as he looked into Sam's eyes and for just one instant, he could feel the echo of the terrible weight of the burden that he carried. He knew he could never carry it. But perhaps he could help a little.
He glanced to the side, and Leoben gave him a lifted eyebrow and a meaningful glance back at Sam.
Sam started to wriggle out from beneath him. "We should get cleaned up. Your clothes are under the bed. There's a Raptor in the hangar deck --"
Karl stopped him with a hand on his chest and a grin. "Not yet. You blew my mind, and you didn't even get off. I don't think that's fair."
Sam stopped, looking startled. "Karl?"
"Didn't foresee this, I guess?" he teased and slid a hand between them. Sam's stomach was slick and sticky from Karl's release, but that just helped his hand slide on Sam's cock more easily.
"No -" Sam bit out, "I didn't."
"Good," Karl said, with a smirk of his own. "It makes you more human."
There was nothing alien or god-like about him at all as Karl's fist pumped him, bringing him to the brink fast and hard. It was very human, watching the sweat gather on his face and his mouth open for his panting breaths.
But when he came it was in total silence. His eyes opened wide and he didn't blink. Karl wasn't even sure he was breathing. Alarm crept through him, until he felt a hand on his arm.
"It's all right," Leoben murmured. "We're all at our most open at climax, especially him. He'll be a few minutes."
Karl was not entirely surprised when a few minutes later, Sam blinked and returned to the present with a sudden sense of urgency. "We need to get you in your clothes and out of here."
He didn't explain why, but Karl did as he was bid, until they were standing at the base of the Raptor ramp.
Sam gifted him with one last kiss, this one bitter with farewell and sorrow. "I trust in your good sense. There's no harm in telling Adama that there are other Cylons who believe in peace and let you go. You don't need to lie about everything, just me."
"Will I see you again?" Karl asked then laughed at himself. "I mean, I know I'll see Anders again. But you?"
Sam shrugged. "There are many futures, Karl. Some yes, some no. But I think yes -- as we approach the destiny we both seek, we'll meet again."
"Good. I'll see you then. Be careful," Karl said, meaning it, and punched the button to lift the ramp.
By the time he reached the front and sat in the pilot's seat, the hangar was empty.
* * *
Later it was difficult to look at his friend across the makeshift pyramid court and say nothing. It was worse when Anders tripped him and Karl fell on top of him. He could feel every inch of that now-familiar body beneath him, and a sharp feeling of desire went through him like a hot wind. He clenched his jaw and held still.
Panting, Anders grinned up at him. He tapped Karl on the shoulder with the ball, "Not that this isn't exciting, Helo --"
"Shut up, Anders." Karl rolled off him before he said -- or did -- something he'd regret.
But keeping the secret was a lot easier when he held his daughter and remembered that glimpse of another hybrid child.
They all had to be free to find their destiny.
fin
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