Fic: Softly Tread the Sand Below Your Feet
Title: Softly Tread the Sand Below Your Feet
Author: lls_mutant
Characters: Hoshi, Hot Dog
Rating: PG
Summary: After the end, Hoshi finds a new life. (Mostly gen, with some background pairings.)
Spoilers: through the end.
The breeze was getting stiffer, ruffling through his hair. Louis stared out over the green expanse. He'd been on the surface for a few days on New Caprica, but the sunshine had never been this warm. But the wind cut through his jacket, and he shivered a little.
From behind him, Hot Dog shifted Nicky with a groan. Louis looked over his shoulder and saw the sweat on the man's brow. "Do you want me to take him for a bit?" he asked.
"Would you?" Hot Dog said, his eyes wide and incredulous. "Thanks."
He handed Nicky to Louis. The kid was heavy with sleep, and didn't wake up during the transition. "How far do we have to go?" Louis asked.
Hot Dog was sighing and swinging his arms. "I hope not too much further. It doesn't matter anyway. It's all better than the past four years."
***
They eventually found a place where a stream fed into a river. "Here," a woman named Joanne declared, tossing her pack down. "It's flat, it has fresh running water, there's a forest nearby, and I can't walk anymore."
"So say we all," a Two said. A few faces rankled at his use of the Colonial phrase, and Louis himself cringed. But the Two was too tired to notice.
A Six opened up her pack. "We'd better start boiling some water," she said, fishing through and finding a pot.
One of the former Marines nodded. "I'll go start digging some sort of latrine," he volunteered.
Hot Dog took Nicky from Louis. "I'd better wake him up and let him run around," he said, "or he won't sleep a wink tonight."
Louis nodded. "Want me to start heating up some algae special?"
Hot Dog grinned. "That would be great."
***
They pitched tents that night, but Louis opted to sleep outside, lying on his back and staring up at the stars. He swore he could feel Felix beside him. It had been a month, but tonight the pain was as sharp as it had been the day that he died.
***
Dawn came. Sunlight warming their faces, warming their futures.
It was a small group. Lee Adama's dumb "no cities" plan had assured that. Louis found he didn't mind. Two hundred and twelve of them. The Marine (who was named John), two knuckledraggers, and himself and Hot Dog were the only ones from Galactica who had elected to come this way. Louis had been happy that way. Everyone he cared about was gone. It was a shock to realize it, but it was true. He'd lost Admiral Cain and Jurgen, he'd lost Felix, he'd lost Dee…. His family was long dead, non-military friends, long dead, even Noel had been one of the few mutineers executed.
Joanne smiled at him as he made his way to the banked firepit. "What do you think, Admiral?'
He laughed. "Not exactly Admiral anymore, thank the Gods." He smiled affably at her. She was a woman about his own age, with mouse brown hair, dimples, and freckles across her nose. "Besides, I don't know the first thing about setting up a habitat. You seem to."
She made a face. "Not really," she said cheerfully. "I used to hike on Picon and I taught high school biology. That's it."
He rubbed his chin. "We ought to start taking inventory," he said. "What skills people have, what supplies we have… how we can best use them."
"I'll begin that." She rummaged through her pack. "Funny to think how quickly paper is going to become precious."
"Yeah."
People were starting to stir, exiting tents and stretching, taking in their new home in the day. And he saw smiles. He looked at the faces, an incredulous wonder about him.
People were smiling. It was a beautiful thing.
***
"Lieutenant."
"Louis, John."
"Right. Louis. Where should we put the metal?"
"We're piling it over there." He pointed to where one of the three Twos was sorting through the small pile of accumulated artifacts. His stomach rumbled, and he realized it was almost noon.
"John," he said. "Has anyone thought to send out a hunting party?"
"Hunting?" John's slapped his forehead. "I can't believe-"
"Yeah, me either. We've got three guns, and a few rounds- we'd better make them stretch until we can make something else and get proficient with it. You want to get a couple other people who can handle the guns and go?"
"Yes, sir."
Louis's face twisted in a smile. "John?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Enough with the sir."
"Yes, si- Right," John said, grinning. "Yeah, we'll be back before sundown."
***
"Louis."
"Hot Dog."
Hot Dog grinned mockingly. "Brendan," he said.
"Right. Brendan. What needs done now?" Louis sighed wearily.
Brendan shoved a plate at him. On it was the most wonderful thing that Louis had smelled in years. "You need to eat," Brendan said, and Louis's stomach ravenously agreed. "Come on," he said. "Aside from that, the Cylons have a question for you."
"For me?" Louis took his plate and followed Brendan, picking up the cooling meat. It tasted as amazing as it smelled, despite the fact it was lobbed off by people who probably had never butchered an animal before in their lives. Brendan led him to where the Cylons were sitting, one of the Eights entertaining Nicky. Despite the apparent truce, they were huddled around their own fire.
He swallowed hard before he approached them. He felt he should be civil, but civility was still a difficult concept at this point. There were three Twos, four Sixes, and two Eights. "What can I do for you?" he asked.
"Have a seat," one of the Sixes said graciously, and he had no choice but to obey. He noticed that Joanne was watching closely from another fire pit.
"We've been talking," the Six continued, "and we feel that it's absolutely necessary that we take names. Lyda opted for one," she said, gesturing to a Six with long, pretty hair, "but the rest of us never did."
Louis shrugged, focused on the meat. "Sounds like a good idea. Why are you running this by me?"
"You're in charge," one of the Eights said.
Louis looked up. "No I'm not."
The two Eights exchanged glances, but a goateed Two just shook his head and smiled. "No, it's not just that. Four of us have chosen names. Joshua, Anna, Jane, and Chris." He indicated a Two, an Eight, a Six, and another Two in turn. "And of course, as she said, Lyda already chose hers before we made the alliance. But the rest of us…."
The unnamed Eight looked up from playing with Nicky. "Humans died," she said softly. "And they died fighting to bring this world about. We realize our mistakes, and we respect your right to say no. But some of us… we don't want to replace those that were lost. But we'd like to honor them."
Realization dawned on Louis. "You want names of humans." He glanced at Brendan, who was staring wide-eyed at them. "Really?"
"If you would accept it."
Louis stared down at his plate, his appetite gone. He didn't know what to say. But beside him Brendan wiped at his eyes.
"Kat," Brendan said, pointing to an Eight. He turned to a Six. "Anastasia."
Louis bit his lip. This was big. This was a gesture of acceptance… from both sides. He didn't know what to think.
The Two with the goatee put his hand on his arm. "I especially wanted to ask you, because… well, I knew communications. I was essentially the navigator for our ship. I understand, and I… well, I understand. I wondered if I could take the name Felix."
Louis closed his eyes. "No," he said, simply, unequivocally. "No."
When he opened his eyes, the Two was smiling at him. It was a sad smile, and Louis realized he hadn't taken offense. "Very well," he said, and then grinned with irony. "How about Tom?"
And Louis couldn't help but laugh.
***
"I have to admit," Joanne said as they looked at the sketch, "having the Cylons have names does make it easier."
"I'm wondering," John said, "maybe we should stop calling them Cylons."
Louis cocked his head, thinking. "Why's that?"
"It's going to be the two hundred of us for the rest of our lives. Others might have settled nearby, but for the most part, this is it. No sense in building up more walls between us."
"But they are Cylons," Joanne pointed out. "Are we also outlawing Caprican or Tauron or Aquarian?"
"Why not?" John asked.
Louis sighed. "We'd better think carefully on this one," he said. "We'll talk about it later."
***
"You are really terrible about sitting down to eat, aren't you?" Brendan said, bringing Louis a plate.
"You're really insistent about reminding me, aren't you?" Louis said.
Brendan shrugged. "When you have a kid, you have to be mindful of mealtimes."
"Good point." Louis sat down beside Brendan. "Have you found a spot for your house yet?"
"I have. What about you?"
Louis shook his head. "Haven't had time to look."
Brendan looked down at his plate, nudging around the roots that someone had found and boiled. "You know," he began, "according to the calculations that you guys did, we've got about three months before the weather starts to get colder. If you help me get my house built, you could stay with me and Nicky until the spring, and then we'd help you build yours."
"That makes sense," Louis said carefully.
Brendan was still studying his plate. "I'm not coming on to you, you know," he said. "I'm not into guys at all."
"I know." Louis smiled. "I'm cheap labor."
"Exactly." But Brendan's smile lingered, and suddenly, Louis remembered he'd known Felix, he'd known Dee, he'd known Noel. It was one thing to leave the Galactica. It was another thing to leave it behind.
Brendan ran a hand through his hair and changed the subject. "I heard you talking with Joanne and John today," he said. "About not using the word Cylon any more."
"Yeah." Louis forced himself to start picking at his food again. "What do you think?"
"What do I think?" Brendan asked.
"Was I unclear?"
"No, just… it's been a long time since someone asked me that," Brendan laughed.
"Well?"
Brendan picked up a root, popped it in his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully. "I think outlawing it is a bad idea," he said slowly. "But stopping the usage… I guess it depends on what people want. Do we want to remember? Or do we want to forget?"
It was a good question, and Louis didn't have an answer.
***
The work wore him out, but Louis couldn't sleep. He lay between blankets, under stars, under canvas, and he still imagined Felix beside him.
But it was starting to hurt a little less.
***
Slowly, Brendan's house was beginning to take shape.
It was small, built of stone and something resembling a thatched roof, hewed by hand and painful in its execution. Nearby, others raised roofs as well. Wind and storms blew damages, mud reminded them all of New Caprica, but the little settlement continued to grow.
Hunting became easier, and Joanne started to cultivate plants into gardens. They began to discover what was edible, what was not.
They had their first loss, when Amelia died of a heart attack. She'd been sixty seven. They buried her all together.
Joanne and John had asked Louis to speak over the grave. He'd done so, awkwardly. And afterwards, the Eight called Kat patted his hand.
"That was lovely," she said, wiping her eyes. "Amelia would have liked it very much. Her husband's burial was so simple."
He looked at her. "I didn't know Amelia was married."
"Back on Tauron," Kat said, nodding. "He died when he was fifty three. Cancer. He left her and their children." Kat wiped her eyes again, and smiled. "It's nice to think she's with them now."
"You believe in an afterlife?" Louis asked.
"Don't you?"
He sighed. "I want to."
She shrugged. "Then do."
He laughed hollowly. "It's not that simple."
She was perfectly serious. "It can be."
***
He found Tom later that night, sitting by a fire in front of an unfinished house. Tom looked up and smiled. "Louis. What can I do for you?"
"I don't know," Louis lied, shrugging. "I just didn't feel like being alone tonight."
Tom's smile was twisted. "Because Brendan would turn you away. Or any of the other humans."
Louis shrugged. "Can I sit down?"
"Sure." Tom leaned forward and took a battered kettle from the fire. "You're always welcome."
As Tom said it, Louis realized that he did avoid the Cylons. "Thanks," he said uncomfortably, sitting. He stared into the flames, mesmerized at their dance.
"What's on your mind, fearless leader?"
"Fearless leader?" Louis said, surprised. "I'm not a leader."
Tom opened his mouth to argue, and then closed it again. "Right. Let's not debate the point."
Louis shook his head and fixed his eyes back on the flame. "You took the name Tom," he said. "After I told you I didn't want you calling yourself Felix. You do know what they did, don't you?"
Tom poured a mug of hot water and sprinkled in some leaves. "Wish we could find something that made a better tea," he said. "Yes, I know exactly who Tom Zarek was. I saw him taken to detention on New Caprica, and I heard what he was killed for."
"He was a mutineer," Louis stressed.
"Yes," Tom said. "And so am I."
The shock was painful, warm, and incredulous. "What do you- oh. Oh, I see," Louis said. "Of course."
Tom was now staring into the fire. "It wasn't an easy decision," he said. "Not for any of us. To turn against our brothers… it was a painful break. But it had to be done, and I'm glad we did. This life… it's nothing like we had. It's hard, it's going to be painful, and being disconnected from data, from computers, from the network…" he shook his head, "it's like cutting off a part of myself. But it was right. Tom Zarek and Felix Gaeta believed in what they died for," Tom said. "I felt an affinity with that." He shook his head and looked at Louis. "Now can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"You let me take the name of Tom, but you wouldn't let me take Felix. Why not?"
"You don't know?"
"Would I be asking if I did?"
Louis swallowed. "He was my lover," he said simply. "To let you take his name was something I was in no way ready for."
"I see." Tom ran a finger around the edge of his mug. "It must have been very painful for you when he died."
Louis nodded. "I was talking to Kat today. She mentioned the afterlife."
"And you're looking for answers."
Louis laughed. "I don't expect answers anymore," he said. "I think I have to learn to be content without them. But…" he threaded his fingers together.
Tom fumbled for another cup and poured Louis some of the water. "Do I think he's waiting for you on the other side? Absolutely."
It was odd, how the word of a Cylon gave him such comfort. But it did, and when Tom handed him the cup, Louis drank gratefully.
***
"Daddy," Nicky said, and for the first time, it was clear.
Brendan scooped him up, happiness clear on his face. "That's right, little man," he said. "What do you think? Do you like our new house?"
"Habba." Nicky gestured towards the house, and then strained to be put down. Brendan set him down, and Nicky ran with more enthusiasm than skill towards the door.
"We've done well," Brendan said. "Are you ready to start on yours?"
"Eager for more work?" Louis pulled the hide coat around him. It blocked the wind extremely well, and he was very grateful that Alexander had made it for him. "I think we're getting to the point where the older people and those with children are housed, which is good. I really don't want to see any more deaths."
"Mmm." Brendan glanced at him.
"What?"
"You probably don't want to hear this," Brendan began slowly.
"Go ahead," Louis said wearily. "Hit me with it."
"You're going gray," Brendan said. "At the temples."
It was at that moment that Louis finally realized he was the leader of his little settlement, and for better or for worse, these were his people.
***
He sat by the river, staring into the water as he dangled his feet in. Joanne came over and sat down beside him. "This is the first time in weeks I've seen you just sit," she observed.
"I'm hiding," Louis confessed.
"Life cooped up with a child is a bit too much?" Joanne laughed.
"Yes," Louis said seriously.
Joanne put her own feet in the water, and studied the patterns intently. "Are you happy at Brendan's?" she asked.
"I'll be glad to have my own place, but yes." He smiled affectionately. "Brendan never runs out of things to say, and when he does, Nicky takes up the slack."
She chuckled. "He's a cute kid."
"Yes."
She picked up a stone, turning it over and over in her hands. "Are you going to have one?"
Louis laughed bitterly. "Even if Felix were still alive, it wouldn't have exactly been an option."
"I didn't mean with Felix."
He thought about that, watching the sun dapple patterns over the water. "I know."
"You could," she said. She finally looked up at him, her eyes wide and looking younger than she'd looked since he met her. "My house is finished. If you get tired of staying with Brendan…."
It came crashing down, what she meant, and he stared at her for a long time. "Wow," he said, when he remembered that he should say something. "That's very nice of you."
"You sound like a debutante," she said with a wry smile.
He took her hand. "You're very lovely-" he began, and her smile deepened in its bitterness.
"But you're not interested," she said. "If only I was a man, but I'm not, and-"
He laughed hollowly. "Joanne, that wasn't what I was going to say. I just… if I wanted a child, I would ask you. I think. I don't really know, because the truth of it is that I don't want a child."
"But if humanity is going to continue-"
"Humanity will continue. In addition to the thirty-eight thousand people who landed on this planet, there are native humans here. They aren't evolved to our point yet, but they are here. Humanity will survive without me procreating." He sighed. "It's not sentiment, or love. I mean, I never wanted children, even before I lost Felix. But it goes beyond that. I don't know if these settlements will survive or not. I don't know how long I'll survive. I don't want to bring a child into the world. I just want to leave it peacefully."
Joanne looked into the water morosely. "Now I feel bad for wanting a child," she said.
"Don't. It's not my place to say what's right for anyone else, much less all of humanity. I just know what I want."
She smiled at him sadly, and he squeezed her hand.
***
"Uncle Lou," Nicky said. "Daddy says get up."
Louis sat up and rubbed his eyes. Nicky gleefully pulled the worn blanket off Louis, grinning. "I don't want to get up," Louis informed Nicky.
"The sun's up," Nicky said. "Come on, Uncle Lou!"
Louis stood up from his pallet and stumbled outside to the outhouse. The morning was sunny, and as he left, he knelt to wash his hands and face in the stream. He heard birds, and the wind rustled leaves and grass. He could smell cooking fires, see people beginning to stir.
He pushed his hair into something resembling order. It was almost getting long enough to cut with the knife. He went back into Brendan's house and fished out his tanks and pants, looking at the clumsy mending ruefully. But today merited something a little nicer than the crude, handmade cloth that they'd all taken to wearing for working.
"Come on, Uncle Lou," Nicky insisted.
"Hey." Brendan came into the house, laughing at his son, "give Uncle Lou a chance to get ready, okay?"
"I'm going to think you're shoving me out the door," Louis said, ruffling Nicky's hair.
Nicky blinked at him uncomprehendingly. "But I want to sleep in your house tonight," he insisted.
Brendan and Louis exchanged glances, both of them laughing. But there was something bittersweet behind their laughter. As much as each of them were looking forward to having their own space, they'd shared enough time together that their spaces would seem a little empty.
"Race us there," Brendan suggested to Nicky. He lit up and ran out the door.
"You going to be okay?" Brendan said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Louis nodded. "Of course. It's not like I'm going far." He bit his lip, leaned down to pick up his pallet and the small bundle of clothing and possessions. "Thank you, by the way."
"For what?" Brendan asked, genuinely confused.
"Helping me get through this. I… I'm glad I didn't have to be alone for a while."
Brendan smiled sadly. "Yeah. I know." Then his smile brightened. "Come on. Let's go see your new home."
***
It was just like the other houses that had been constructed. A small, single room made of stone with a thatched roof and a heavy door. There was a firepit inside, and a pounded dirt floor. A pallet with a coarse mattress made of woven grasses, baskets, and one of the pots that they'd managed to save. The tools he had, lined up neatly on a shelf. A knife and a whetstone, slate and chalk, a bucket, and a makeshift shovel.
But there were other things, too, things he didn't expect. His hide jacket, the first one that Alexander had made. A table and a chair- a true luxury in their settlement. A razor, saved by some soul with foresight. A second pair of fatigue pants. A woven rug, crudely dyed, and spread on the floor. A set of gourds, cured with heat and carved into bowls, and a few clay cups. A shard of mirror.
He stared at his new house, and then turned back to see his community watching him, smiles on their faces, and tears jumped to his eyes.
"Thank you," he said. "Thank you all."
***
When he was alone that night, he took out the four pictures he had of Felix, and the dogtags. He found the one of himself with his arms wrapped around Felix, and the one of him, Felix, and Noel drunk and making faces, and propped them on the shelf. The other two pictures he slipped into his box, beside Felix's dogtags and his own, and put the box away.
He looked at the pictures and smiled.
***
There was a knock at the door. Louis opened it, and in no way was surprised to find Tom standing there, a small package in hand. "May I come in?" Tom asked.
"Please do," Louis said, gesturing grandly. He'd been in his house for a whole week, and had been frankly expecting Tom a lot sooner than this.
Tom stepped in and smiled. "I brought you something," he said, extending it. "It's not much, but it's something."
Louis took it and folded back the rough cloth to find a book. "I saved it," Tom said. "Roslin left it on the basestar, and I actually started reading it."
"A book…" Louis said, staring at it. "I didn't think…."
"I know. Please, take it. I've got it memorized by now."
Louis ran his fingers over the worn spine and looked at Tom. "Thank you," he said, smiling. "I mean it."
"You're welcome. So, how does it feel to have a home?"
Louis shrugged. "Not all that different," he said. "And yet, it makes all the difference in the world. It's nice." He glanced around. "Certainly not what I ever imagined, but nice." It occurred to him. "What about you?"
Tom shrugged. "I had a tent on New Caprica," he said. "Like the Colonials. But it was separate. It's funny. Even though I have walls here, I feel a part of something more. Not like I did on the baseship, but…" he shook his head in frustration. "I can't explain it."
"But I think I know what you mean. Let's have a drink," Louis suggested.
It hadn't taken anywhere close to the full year they'd been on Earth for their settlement to find something potable. The resultant liquor was harsh and tasted like shoe polish, but it did the job. Louis poured them each a cup, and handed one to Tom before settling on his bed. He held it up. "To home."
"To home." Tom bolted the liquor, and Louis poured him another glass. The second one always went down easier.
"Did you ever imagine yourself winding up alone?" Tom asked after four glasses.
Louis nodded. "I did. In fact, it's how I thought I'd end it."
"Why?"
"I have my reasons."
"You've loved people." Tom looked at the picture that Louis had put on the wall. "Felix."
"Yes. And for that matter, Noel, although it was years before I ever met Felix. But…" Louis shrugged. "I'm comfortable alone. If it had worked out, that would be one thing. But I never expected anything to work out for a lifetime." He took a sip. "And now, I don't want it to."
"Why not?"
Louis toyed with the edge of his glass. "I just don't. It's not something I talk about."
Tom considered that. "All right. But isn't it lonely?"
"At times." The pieces fell together, and Louis almost laughed. "You know, if you're going to try to seduce me, you could actually sit next to me."
Tom stared at him for a moment, and then he began to laugh as well. "I could, couldn't I?" He moved over and sat beside Louis. His body was slender and taut and warm, and the tiny house seemed warmer and lighter.
He remembered that night for the next ten years, as a start of something that wasn't love and wasn't just sex, but was friendship and family and convenience and something indefinable. Something that was a part of him just as much as Noel would always be a part of him, as Felix would always be a part of him. And as it became comfortable routine, it was good.
***
Louis Hoshi was fifty two, the best he could figure, when he cut himself shaving. It was a small cut, but it didn't stop bleeding, and he knew enough to know what that meant.
He'd lived in this tiny house for ten years, with this community around him. Brendan and Nicky and Molly and their daughter Dee next door. Tom, across the settlement or by his fire and in his bed. Joanne and John, settled together with a daughter named Laura. Kat, Alexander, Tim… his people. His friends.
He walked through the houses, set into the landscape and yet still lacking in permanence, wiping irritably at his chin, and he wondered why it didn't hurt to let this go.
Two months, he figured. It would take two months for the berries he needed to come into season. Two months to put everything in order, to be sure that his people would be all right. As long as the cancer wasn't so far developed it ate him before then, two months.
He smiled in the early morning sunshine.
***
Nicky- no, Nick, now- was swimming in the stream with Dee and Laura and Cylon child named Leoben. Louis and Brendan sat on the bank, watching them.
"Wow." Brendan wiped his eyes. "You're really going to do this?"
"It's die fast or die slow, Brendan. There's no other way about it." Louis wrapped his arms around his updrawn knees. "And I'm okay with that."
"But-"
Louis held up a hand. "Please, Brendan, don't argue. It's not suicide. Not really. It's sparing me a long, painful struggle, and it's sparing everyone else having to watch it."
Brendan took a deep breath. "Right." He looked at the kids again. "What are you going to tell people?"
"Nothing. I'm telling you and Tom. Heck, there's always the chance I won't make it two months anyway. One of the wildcats could get me tomorrow."
"I suppose that's true." Brendan sighed. "Do you ever wonder about the others? Like Adama, is he still alive? Or Baltar?"
"Not anymore. I used to. I suppose Adama's at least dead now. Baltar's not. He's like a cockroach. He'll survive anything."
Brendan laughed. "I'll miss you, you know," he told Louis, laying a hand on his back. "It's like Adama losing Tigh."
"But with significantly less alcohol," Louis said, and they laughed together.
The children screamed and splashed, and the wind rustled the grasses gently.
***
He began to feel the changes. It was hard to tell if they were real or imagined, because now he knew he was sick. He was tired. His bones ached, and he felt not quite right. But in two months he had joy, he had friends, and he had peace.
And yet, the final night came.
Tom and Brendan came and sat with him. It was awkward at first, even as Louis set a meal on the table and poured out the booze. But the alcohol burned off the edges of pain, and the firelight cast dancing shadows as laughter echoed off the stone walls.
He didn't say good bye, or make a ceremony of it. At one point, Brendan had them laughing over a story from the days on Galactica, and instead of reaching for his cup Louis took the berry juice instead. His insides began to burn, and the exhaustion deepened almost immediately.
Tom saw it, catching him and guiding him over to the bed. He sat down, and without breaking the conversation, took Louis's hand. Brendan paused, and then came over and took the other. Their hands were warm and firm on his, gentle in their goodbyes.
He smiled at them, and then closed his eyes.
***
And when he opened them again, Felix and Noel smiled back at him.
Author: lls_mutant
Characters: Hoshi, Hot Dog
Rating: PG
Summary: After the end, Hoshi finds a new life. (Mostly gen, with some background pairings.)
Spoilers: through the end.
The breeze was getting stiffer, ruffling through his hair. Louis stared out over the green expanse. He'd been on the surface for a few days on New Caprica, but the sunshine had never been this warm. But the wind cut through his jacket, and he shivered a little.
From behind him, Hot Dog shifted Nicky with a groan. Louis looked over his shoulder and saw the sweat on the man's brow. "Do you want me to take him for a bit?" he asked.
"Would you?" Hot Dog said, his eyes wide and incredulous. "Thanks."
He handed Nicky to Louis. The kid was heavy with sleep, and didn't wake up during the transition. "How far do we have to go?" Louis asked.
Hot Dog was sighing and swinging his arms. "I hope not too much further. It doesn't matter anyway. It's all better than the past four years."
***
They eventually found a place where a stream fed into a river. "Here," a woman named Joanne declared, tossing her pack down. "It's flat, it has fresh running water, there's a forest nearby, and I can't walk anymore."
"So say we all," a Two said. A few faces rankled at his use of the Colonial phrase, and Louis himself cringed. But the Two was too tired to notice.
A Six opened up her pack. "We'd better start boiling some water," she said, fishing through and finding a pot.
One of the former Marines nodded. "I'll go start digging some sort of latrine," he volunteered.
Hot Dog took Nicky from Louis. "I'd better wake him up and let him run around," he said, "or he won't sleep a wink tonight."
Louis nodded. "Want me to start heating up some algae special?"
Hot Dog grinned. "That would be great."
***
They pitched tents that night, but Louis opted to sleep outside, lying on his back and staring up at the stars. He swore he could feel Felix beside him. It had been a month, but tonight the pain was as sharp as it had been the day that he died.
***
Dawn came. Sunlight warming their faces, warming their futures.
It was a small group. Lee Adama's dumb "no cities" plan had assured that. Louis found he didn't mind. Two hundred and twelve of them. The Marine (who was named John), two knuckledraggers, and himself and Hot Dog were the only ones from Galactica who had elected to come this way. Louis had been happy that way. Everyone he cared about was gone. It was a shock to realize it, but it was true. He'd lost Admiral Cain and Jurgen, he'd lost Felix, he'd lost Dee…. His family was long dead, non-military friends, long dead, even Noel had been one of the few mutineers executed.
Joanne smiled at him as he made his way to the banked firepit. "What do you think, Admiral?'
He laughed. "Not exactly Admiral anymore, thank the Gods." He smiled affably at her. She was a woman about his own age, with mouse brown hair, dimples, and freckles across her nose. "Besides, I don't know the first thing about setting up a habitat. You seem to."
She made a face. "Not really," she said cheerfully. "I used to hike on Picon and I taught high school biology. That's it."
He rubbed his chin. "We ought to start taking inventory," he said. "What skills people have, what supplies we have… how we can best use them."
"I'll begin that." She rummaged through her pack. "Funny to think how quickly paper is going to become precious."
"Yeah."
People were starting to stir, exiting tents and stretching, taking in their new home in the day. And he saw smiles. He looked at the faces, an incredulous wonder about him.
People were smiling. It was a beautiful thing.
***
"Lieutenant."
"Louis, John."
"Right. Louis. Where should we put the metal?"
"We're piling it over there." He pointed to where one of the three Twos was sorting through the small pile of accumulated artifacts. His stomach rumbled, and he realized it was almost noon.
"John," he said. "Has anyone thought to send out a hunting party?"
"Hunting?" John's slapped his forehead. "I can't believe-"
"Yeah, me either. We've got three guns, and a few rounds- we'd better make them stretch until we can make something else and get proficient with it. You want to get a couple other people who can handle the guns and go?"
"Yes, sir."
Louis's face twisted in a smile. "John?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Enough with the sir."
"Yes, si- Right," John said, grinning. "Yeah, we'll be back before sundown."
***
"Louis."
"Hot Dog."
Hot Dog grinned mockingly. "Brendan," he said.
"Right. Brendan. What needs done now?" Louis sighed wearily.
Brendan shoved a plate at him. On it was the most wonderful thing that Louis had smelled in years. "You need to eat," Brendan said, and Louis's stomach ravenously agreed. "Come on," he said. "Aside from that, the Cylons have a question for you."
"For me?" Louis took his plate and followed Brendan, picking up the cooling meat. It tasted as amazing as it smelled, despite the fact it was lobbed off by people who probably had never butchered an animal before in their lives. Brendan led him to where the Cylons were sitting, one of the Eights entertaining Nicky. Despite the apparent truce, they were huddled around their own fire.
He swallowed hard before he approached them. He felt he should be civil, but civility was still a difficult concept at this point. There were three Twos, four Sixes, and two Eights. "What can I do for you?" he asked.
"Have a seat," one of the Sixes said graciously, and he had no choice but to obey. He noticed that Joanne was watching closely from another fire pit.
"We've been talking," the Six continued, "and we feel that it's absolutely necessary that we take names. Lyda opted for one," she said, gesturing to a Six with long, pretty hair, "but the rest of us never did."
Louis shrugged, focused on the meat. "Sounds like a good idea. Why are you running this by me?"
"You're in charge," one of the Eights said.
Louis looked up. "No I'm not."
The two Eights exchanged glances, but a goateed Two just shook his head and smiled. "No, it's not just that. Four of us have chosen names. Joshua, Anna, Jane, and Chris." He indicated a Two, an Eight, a Six, and another Two in turn. "And of course, as she said, Lyda already chose hers before we made the alliance. But the rest of us…."
The unnamed Eight looked up from playing with Nicky. "Humans died," she said softly. "And they died fighting to bring this world about. We realize our mistakes, and we respect your right to say no. But some of us… we don't want to replace those that were lost. But we'd like to honor them."
Realization dawned on Louis. "You want names of humans." He glanced at Brendan, who was staring wide-eyed at them. "Really?"
"If you would accept it."
Louis stared down at his plate, his appetite gone. He didn't know what to say. But beside him Brendan wiped at his eyes.
"Kat," Brendan said, pointing to an Eight. He turned to a Six. "Anastasia."
Louis bit his lip. This was big. This was a gesture of acceptance… from both sides. He didn't know what to think.
The Two with the goatee put his hand on his arm. "I especially wanted to ask you, because… well, I knew communications. I was essentially the navigator for our ship. I understand, and I… well, I understand. I wondered if I could take the name Felix."
Louis closed his eyes. "No," he said, simply, unequivocally. "No."
When he opened his eyes, the Two was smiling at him. It was a sad smile, and Louis realized he hadn't taken offense. "Very well," he said, and then grinned with irony. "How about Tom?"
And Louis couldn't help but laugh.
***
"I have to admit," Joanne said as they looked at the sketch, "having the Cylons have names does make it easier."
"I'm wondering," John said, "maybe we should stop calling them Cylons."
Louis cocked his head, thinking. "Why's that?"
"It's going to be the two hundred of us for the rest of our lives. Others might have settled nearby, but for the most part, this is it. No sense in building up more walls between us."
"But they are Cylons," Joanne pointed out. "Are we also outlawing Caprican or Tauron or Aquarian?"
"Why not?" John asked.
Louis sighed. "We'd better think carefully on this one," he said. "We'll talk about it later."
***
"You are really terrible about sitting down to eat, aren't you?" Brendan said, bringing Louis a plate.
"You're really insistent about reminding me, aren't you?" Louis said.
Brendan shrugged. "When you have a kid, you have to be mindful of mealtimes."
"Good point." Louis sat down beside Brendan. "Have you found a spot for your house yet?"
"I have. What about you?"
Louis shook his head. "Haven't had time to look."
Brendan looked down at his plate, nudging around the roots that someone had found and boiled. "You know," he began, "according to the calculations that you guys did, we've got about three months before the weather starts to get colder. If you help me get my house built, you could stay with me and Nicky until the spring, and then we'd help you build yours."
"That makes sense," Louis said carefully.
Brendan was still studying his plate. "I'm not coming on to you, you know," he said. "I'm not into guys at all."
"I know." Louis smiled. "I'm cheap labor."
"Exactly." But Brendan's smile lingered, and suddenly, Louis remembered he'd known Felix, he'd known Dee, he'd known Noel. It was one thing to leave the Galactica. It was another thing to leave it behind.
Brendan ran a hand through his hair and changed the subject. "I heard you talking with Joanne and John today," he said. "About not using the word Cylon any more."
"Yeah." Louis forced himself to start picking at his food again. "What do you think?"
"What do I think?" Brendan asked.
"Was I unclear?"
"No, just… it's been a long time since someone asked me that," Brendan laughed.
"Well?"
Brendan picked up a root, popped it in his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully. "I think outlawing it is a bad idea," he said slowly. "But stopping the usage… I guess it depends on what people want. Do we want to remember? Or do we want to forget?"
It was a good question, and Louis didn't have an answer.
***
The work wore him out, but Louis couldn't sleep. He lay between blankets, under stars, under canvas, and he still imagined Felix beside him.
But it was starting to hurt a little less.
***
Slowly, Brendan's house was beginning to take shape.
It was small, built of stone and something resembling a thatched roof, hewed by hand and painful in its execution. Nearby, others raised roofs as well. Wind and storms blew damages, mud reminded them all of New Caprica, but the little settlement continued to grow.
Hunting became easier, and Joanne started to cultivate plants into gardens. They began to discover what was edible, what was not.
They had their first loss, when Amelia died of a heart attack. She'd been sixty seven. They buried her all together.
Joanne and John had asked Louis to speak over the grave. He'd done so, awkwardly. And afterwards, the Eight called Kat patted his hand.
"That was lovely," she said, wiping her eyes. "Amelia would have liked it very much. Her husband's burial was so simple."
He looked at her. "I didn't know Amelia was married."
"Back on Tauron," Kat said, nodding. "He died when he was fifty three. Cancer. He left her and their children." Kat wiped her eyes again, and smiled. "It's nice to think she's with them now."
"You believe in an afterlife?" Louis asked.
"Don't you?"
He sighed. "I want to."
She shrugged. "Then do."
He laughed hollowly. "It's not that simple."
She was perfectly serious. "It can be."
***
He found Tom later that night, sitting by a fire in front of an unfinished house. Tom looked up and smiled. "Louis. What can I do for you?"
"I don't know," Louis lied, shrugging. "I just didn't feel like being alone tonight."
Tom's smile was twisted. "Because Brendan would turn you away. Or any of the other humans."
Louis shrugged. "Can I sit down?"
"Sure." Tom leaned forward and took a battered kettle from the fire. "You're always welcome."
As Tom said it, Louis realized that he did avoid the Cylons. "Thanks," he said uncomfortably, sitting. He stared into the flames, mesmerized at their dance.
"What's on your mind, fearless leader?"
"Fearless leader?" Louis said, surprised. "I'm not a leader."
Tom opened his mouth to argue, and then closed it again. "Right. Let's not debate the point."
Louis shook his head and fixed his eyes back on the flame. "You took the name Tom," he said. "After I told you I didn't want you calling yourself Felix. You do know what they did, don't you?"
Tom poured a mug of hot water and sprinkled in some leaves. "Wish we could find something that made a better tea," he said. "Yes, I know exactly who Tom Zarek was. I saw him taken to detention on New Caprica, and I heard what he was killed for."
"He was a mutineer," Louis stressed.
"Yes," Tom said. "And so am I."
The shock was painful, warm, and incredulous. "What do you- oh. Oh, I see," Louis said. "Of course."
Tom was now staring into the fire. "It wasn't an easy decision," he said. "Not for any of us. To turn against our brothers… it was a painful break. But it had to be done, and I'm glad we did. This life… it's nothing like we had. It's hard, it's going to be painful, and being disconnected from data, from computers, from the network…" he shook his head, "it's like cutting off a part of myself. But it was right. Tom Zarek and Felix Gaeta believed in what they died for," Tom said. "I felt an affinity with that." He shook his head and looked at Louis. "Now can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"You let me take the name of Tom, but you wouldn't let me take Felix. Why not?"
"You don't know?"
"Would I be asking if I did?"
Louis swallowed. "He was my lover," he said simply. "To let you take his name was something I was in no way ready for."
"I see." Tom ran a finger around the edge of his mug. "It must have been very painful for you when he died."
Louis nodded. "I was talking to Kat today. She mentioned the afterlife."
"And you're looking for answers."
Louis laughed. "I don't expect answers anymore," he said. "I think I have to learn to be content without them. But…" he threaded his fingers together.
Tom fumbled for another cup and poured Louis some of the water. "Do I think he's waiting for you on the other side? Absolutely."
It was odd, how the word of a Cylon gave him such comfort. But it did, and when Tom handed him the cup, Louis drank gratefully.
***
"Daddy," Nicky said, and for the first time, it was clear.
Brendan scooped him up, happiness clear on his face. "That's right, little man," he said. "What do you think? Do you like our new house?"
"Habba." Nicky gestured towards the house, and then strained to be put down. Brendan set him down, and Nicky ran with more enthusiasm than skill towards the door.
"We've done well," Brendan said. "Are you ready to start on yours?"
"Eager for more work?" Louis pulled the hide coat around him. It blocked the wind extremely well, and he was very grateful that Alexander had made it for him. "I think we're getting to the point where the older people and those with children are housed, which is good. I really don't want to see any more deaths."
"Mmm." Brendan glanced at him.
"What?"
"You probably don't want to hear this," Brendan began slowly.
"Go ahead," Louis said wearily. "Hit me with it."
"You're going gray," Brendan said. "At the temples."
It was at that moment that Louis finally realized he was the leader of his little settlement, and for better or for worse, these were his people.
***
He sat by the river, staring into the water as he dangled his feet in. Joanne came over and sat down beside him. "This is the first time in weeks I've seen you just sit," she observed.
"I'm hiding," Louis confessed.
"Life cooped up with a child is a bit too much?" Joanne laughed.
"Yes," Louis said seriously.
Joanne put her own feet in the water, and studied the patterns intently. "Are you happy at Brendan's?" she asked.
"I'll be glad to have my own place, but yes." He smiled affectionately. "Brendan never runs out of things to say, and when he does, Nicky takes up the slack."
She chuckled. "He's a cute kid."
"Yes."
She picked up a stone, turning it over and over in her hands. "Are you going to have one?"
Louis laughed bitterly. "Even if Felix were still alive, it wouldn't have exactly been an option."
"I didn't mean with Felix."
He thought about that, watching the sun dapple patterns over the water. "I know."
"You could," she said. She finally looked up at him, her eyes wide and looking younger than she'd looked since he met her. "My house is finished. If you get tired of staying with Brendan…."
It came crashing down, what she meant, and he stared at her for a long time. "Wow," he said, when he remembered that he should say something. "That's very nice of you."
"You sound like a debutante," she said with a wry smile.
He took her hand. "You're very lovely-" he began, and her smile deepened in its bitterness.
"But you're not interested," she said. "If only I was a man, but I'm not, and-"
He laughed hollowly. "Joanne, that wasn't what I was going to say. I just… if I wanted a child, I would ask you. I think. I don't really know, because the truth of it is that I don't want a child."
"But if humanity is going to continue-"
"Humanity will continue. In addition to the thirty-eight thousand people who landed on this planet, there are native humans here. They aren't evolved to our point yet, but they are here. Humanity will survive without me procreating." He sighed. "It's not sentiment, or love. I mean, I never wanted children, even before I lost Felix. But it goes beyond that. I don't know if these settlements will survive or not. I don't know how long I'll survive. I don't want to bring a child into the world. I just want to leave it peacefully."
Joanne looked into the water morosely. "Now I feel bad for wanting a child," she said.
"Don't. It's not my place to say what's right for anyone else, much less all of humanity. I just know what I want."
She smiled at him sadly, and he squeezed her hand.
***
"Uncle Lou," Nicky said. "Daddy says get up."
Louis sat up and rubbed his eyes. Nicky gleefully pulled the worn blanket off Louis, grinning. "I don't want to get up," Louis informed Nicky.
"The sun's up," Nicky said. "Come on, Uncle Lou!"
Louis stood up from his pallet and stumbled outside to the outhouse. The morning was sunny, and as he left, he knelt to wash his hands and face in the stream. He heard birds, and the wind rustled leaves and grass. He could smell cooking fires, see people beginning to stir.
He pushed his hair into something resembling order. It was almost getting long enough to cut with the knife. He went back into Brendan's house and fished out his tanks and pants, looking at the clumsy mending ruefully. But today merited something a little nicer than the crude, handmade cloth that they'd all taken to wearing for working.
"Come on, Uncle Lou," Nicky insisted.
"Hey." Brendan came into the house, laughing at his son, "give Uncle Lou a chance to get ready, okay?"
"I'm going to think you're shoving me out the door," Louis said, ruffling Nicky's hair.
Nicky blinked at him uncomprehendingly. "But I want to sleep in your house tonight," he insisted.
Brendan and Louis exchanged glances, both of them laughing. But there was something bittersweet behind their laughter. As much as each of them were looking forward to having their own space, they'd shared enough time together that their spaces would seem a little empty.
"Race us there," Brendan suggested to Nicky. He lit up and ran out the door.
"You going to be okay?" Brendan said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Louis nodded. "Of course. It's not like I'm going far." He bit his lip, leaned down to pick up his pallet and the small bundle of clothing and possessions. "Thank you, by the way."
"For what?" Brendan asked, genuinely confused.
"Helping me get through this. I… I'm glad I didn't have to be alone for a while."
Brendan smiled sadly. "Yeah. I know." Then his smile brightened. "Come on. Let's go see your new home."
***
It was just like the other houses that had been constructed. A small, single room made of stone with a thatched roof and a heavy door. There was a firepit inside, and a pounded dirt floor. A pallet with a coarse mattress made of woven grasses, baskets, and one of the pots that they'd managed to save. The tools he had, lined up neatly on a shelf. A knife and a whetstone, slate and chalk, a bucket, and a makeshift shovel.
But there were other things, too, things he didn't expect. His hide jacket, the first one that Alexander had made. A table and a chair- a true luxury in their settlement. A razor, saved by some soul with foresight. A second pair of fatigue pants. A woven rug, crudely dyed, and spread on the floor. A set of gourds, cured with heat and carved into bowls, and a few clay cups. A shard of mirror.
He stared at his new house, and then turned back to see his community watching him, smiles on their faces, and tears jumped to his eyes.
"Thank you," he said. "Thank you all."
***
When he was alone that night, he took out the four pictures he had of Felix, and the dogtags. He found the one of himself with his arms wrapped around Felix, and the one of him, Felix, and Noel drunk and making faces, and propped them on the shelf. The other two pictures he slipped into his box, beside Felix's dogtags and his own, and put the box away.
He looked at the pictures and smiled.
***
There was a knock at the door. Louis opened it, and in no way was surprised to find Tom standing there, a small package in hand. "May I come in?" Tom asked.
"Please do," Louis said, gesturing grandly. He'd been in his house for a whole week, and had been frankly expecting Tom a lot sooner than this.
Tom stepped in and smiled. "I brought you something," he said, extending it. "It's not much, but it's something."
Louis took it and folded back the rough cloth to find a book. "I saved it," Tom said. "Roslin left it on the basestar, and I actually started reading it."
"A book…" Louis said, staring at it. "I didn't think…."
"I know. Please, take it. I've got it memorized by now."
Louis ran his fingers over the worn spine and looked at Tom. "Thank you," he said, smiling. "I mean it."
"You're welcome. So, how does it feel to have a home?"
Louis shrugged. "Not all that different," he said. "And yet, it makes all the difference in the world. It's nice." He glanced around. "Certainly not what I ever imagined, but nice." It occurred to him. "What about you?"
Tom shrugged. "I had a tent on New Caprica," he said. "Like the Colonials. But it was separate. It's funny. Even though I have walls here, I feel a part of something more. Not like I did on the baseship, but…" he shook his head in frustration. "I can't explain it."
"But I think I know what you mean. Let's have a drink," Louis suggested.
It hadn't taken anywhere close to the full year they'd been on Earth for their settlement to find something potable. The resultant liquor was harsh and tasted like shoe polish, but it did the job. Louis poured them each a cup, and handed one to Tom before settling on his bed. He held it up. "To home."
"To home." Tom bolted the liquor, and Louis poured him another glass. The second one always went down easier.
"Did you ever imagine yourself winding up alone?" Tom asked after four glasses.
Louis nodded. "I did. In fact, it's how I thought I'd end it."
"Why?"
"I have my reasons."
"You've loved people." Tom looked at the picture that Louis had put on the wall. "Felix."
"Yes. And for that matter, Noel, although it was years before I ever met Felix. But…" Louis shrugged. "I'm comfortable alone. If it had worked out, that would be one thing. But I never expected anything to work out for a lifetime." He took a sip. "And now, I don't want it to."
"Why not?"
Louis toyed with the edge of his glass. "I just don't. It's not something I talk about."
Tom considered that. "All right. But isn't it lonely?"
"At times." The pieces fell together, and Louis almost laughed. "You know, if you're going to try to seduce me, you could actually sit next to me."
Tom stared at him for a moment, and then he began to laugh as well. "I could, couldn't I?" He moved over and sat beside Louis. His body was slender and taut and warm, and the tiny house seemed warmer and lighter.
He remembered that night for the next ten years, as a start of something that wasn't love and wasn't just sex, but was friendship and family and convenience and something indefinable. Something that was a part of him just as much as Noel would always be a part of him, as Felix would always be a part of him. And as it became comfortable routine, it was good.
***
Louis Hoshi was fifty two, the best he could figure, when he cut himself shaving. It was a small cut, but it didn't stop bleeding, and he knew enough to know what that meant.
He'd lived in this tiny house for ten years, with this community around him. Brendan and Nicky and Molly and their daughter Dee next door. Tom, across the settlement or by his fire and in his bed. Joanne and John, settled together with a daughter named Laura. Kat, Alexander, Tim… his people. His friends.
He walked through the houses, set into the landscape and yet still lacking in permanence, wiping irritably at his chin, and he wondered why it didn't hurt to let this go.
Two months, he figured. It would take two months for the berries he needed to come into season. Two months to put everything in order, to be sure that his people would be all right. As long as the cancer wasn't so far developed it ate him before then, two months.
He smiled in the early morning sunshine.
***
Nicky- no, Nick, now- was swimming in the stream with Dee and Laura and Cylon child named Leoben. Louis and Brendan sat on the bank, watching them.
"Wow." Brendan wiped his eyes. "You're really going to do this?"
"It's die fast or die slow, Brendan. There's no other way about it." Louis wrapped his arms around his updrawn knees. "And I'm okay with that."
"But-"
Louis held up a hand. "Please, Brendan, don't argue. It's not suicide. Not really. It's sparing me a long, painful struggle, and it's sparing everyone else having to watch it."
Brendan took a deep breath. "Right." He looked at the kids again. "What are you going to tell people?"
"Nothing. I'm telling you and Tom. Heck, there's always the chance I won't make it two months anyway. One of the wildcats could get me tomorrow."
"I suppose that's true." Brendan sighed. "Do you ever wonder about the others? Like Adama, is he still alive? Or Baltar?"
"Not anymore. I used to. I suppose Adama's at least dead now. Baltar's not. He's like a cockroach. He'll survive anything."
Brendan laughed. "I'll miss you, you know," he told Louis, laying a hand on his back. "It's like Adama losing Tigh."
"But with significantly less alcohol," Louis said, and they laughed together.
The children screamed and splashed, and the wind rustled the grasses gently.
***
He began to feel the changes. It was hard to tell if they were real or imagined, because now he knew he was sick. He was tired. His bones ached, and he felt not quite right. But in two months he had joy, he had friends, and he had peace.
And yet, the final night came.
Tom and Brendan came and sat with him. It was awkward at first, even as Louis set a meal on the table and poured out the booze. But the alcohol burned off the edges of pain, and the firelight cast dancing shadows as laughter echoed off the stone walls.
He didn't say good bye, or make a ceremony of it. At one point, Brendan had them laughing over a story from the days on Galactica, and instead of reaching for his cup Louis took the berry juice instead. His insides began to burn, and the exhaustion deepened almost immediately.
Tom saw it, catching him and guiding him over to the bed. He sat down, and without breaking the conversation, took Louis's hand. Brendan paused, and then came over and took the other. Their hands were warm and firm on his, gentle in their goodbyes.
He smiled at them, and then closed his eyes.
***
And when he opened them again, Felix and Noel smiled back at him.