BSG fic: Last Sight You'll Ever See (R)
Title: Last Sight You'll Ever See
Author: SabaceanBabe
Rating: R for violence
Word count: 700+
Spoilers: for the Oath
Summary: Look at them, you sick motherfrakker.
Author's note: Blindsided by fic again, this time while looking at the one-word prompts my flist gave me a few weeks ago. The prompt that sparked this was from nicole_anell and her word was "finished." This came out of nowhere and is completely unbetaed, so let me know if anything needs fixing. And anyone who would like to pick this up and run with it, feel free. :)
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The door to the cell opened and a group of men in Marine battle dress stepped through, four of them, fanning out from the entrance and their assault rifles trained on the group within the cell.
“What the hell?” Sam said, maneuvering to his feet, holding his left side with its complement of broken ribs.
Helo and Sharon did the same, although they were both silent. Hera whimpered, the sound barely audible and quickly choked off. The little girl didn’t move from her place at the foot of the cot and Caprica slid down its length to take her protectively into her arms.
And then one more man stepped into the cell, looking small in his fatigues next to the Marines who accompanied him. He closed the cell door behind him.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Specialist Gage.” Helo didn’t bother to keep the contempt or outright loathing from his voice.
A nasty grin spread across Gage’s face. “It is indeed, sir.” His eyes shifted from Helo to Sharon, who took a step back from her husband and lifted a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. Gage nodded and the Marines moved quickly, wrenching Helo’s and Sam’s arms behind their backs, dragging Caprica from the cot. She wouldn’t let go of Hera, as wide-eyed as her mother, and the Marine slammed the butt of his rifle into Caprica's wrist. Her fingers released their hold and she cried out in pain.
Gage only smiled wider. “Two pretty Cylon bitches for us to play with.” One of the other men smiled, as well, when Gage continued, “Too bad the half-breed’s too young to bother with,” while the other two looked a little sick.
Helo and Sam both fought unsuccessfully to free themselves. Caprica glared murder at Gage, who still watched Sharon with greedy eyes. Sharon backed away another step. “Please don’t hurt my little girl,” she pleaded and Helo shot her a look, frowning. Gage didn’t notice the look, nor did the Marine holding him seem to notice when Helo stopped actively resisting, probably because the big man's muscles remained tense.
“You be nice to me,” Gage walked toward Sharon, closing the distance between them, “and we’ll see.” He kept walking, backed her up against the wall.
“Karl, what the frak?” Sam’s voice was as confused as his expression, but Helo never took his eyes off Sharon.
“You can’t do this!” Caprica shouted, but the man holding her clapped a hand over her mouth to prevent further protest.
Sharon shrank back against the wall as Gage caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “My, you are soft,” he whispered and reached his other hand to pull her close to him.
“And you are finished.” Helo had never seen Sharon move so quickly. In an instant, she had Gage’s face planted into the wall, his arm wrenched up so far behind his back, between his body and hers, that Helo was sure he heard the shoulder joint pop.
Almost as though they had planned it, Helo and the two other Cylons took advantage of their captors’ surprise, disarming them and holding them at bay with the Marines' own rifles. Through all that had come before, Hera had stayed silent and motionless, wide-eyed on the end of the cot, but as soon as the weapons were no longer trained on her parents, she ran to her father and wrapped her arms around his leg, burying her face in the blue fabric of his uniform trousers.
With another lightning-fast move, Sharon had her arm around Gage’s neck in a chokehold. “You sick motherfrakker,” she whispered in his ear. “I am Sharon Agathon, your superior officer, and you are a disgrace to the uniform and to the oath you took.”
She whirled him around like a rag doll to face Helo and Hera. “Look at them, you miserable frak.” Gage started to struggle, opened his mouth to say something, but Sharon tightened her arm and his face began to turn purple. “Know this, Specialist Gage. Karl Agathon is a man, an officer in the Colonial Fleet, and you’re not fit to clean his boots. Hera Agathon is the future of the human race, of the Cylon race, and you are not fit to speak her name.”
He started to choke and she loosened her hold enough that the alarming shade of purple faded from his skin. “Look at them, Gage. Are you looking?”
After a momentary hesitation, he nodded.
“Good. Because that’s the last sight you’ll ever see.” And with that, she snapped his neck.
Author: SabaceanBabe
Rating: R for violence
Word count: 700+
Spoilers: for the Oath
Summary: Look at them, you sick motherfrakker.
Author's note: Blindsided by fic again, this time while looking at the one-word prompts my flist gave me a few weeks ago. The prompt that sparked this was from nicole_anell and her word was "finished." This came out of nowhere and is completely unbetaed, so let me know if anything needs fixing. And anyone who would like to pick this up and run with it, feel free. :)
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The door to the cell opened and a group of men in Marine battle dress stepped through, four of them, fanning out from the entrance and their assault rifles trained on the group within the cell.
“What the hell?” Sam said, maneuvering to his feet, holding his left side with its complement of broken ribs.
Helo and Sharon did the same, although they were both silent. Hera whimpered, the sound barely audible and quickly choked off. The little girl didn’t move from her place at the foot of the cot and Caprica slid down its length to take her protectively into her arms.
And then one more man stepped into the cell, looking small in his fatigues next to the Marines who accompanied him. He closed the cell door behind him.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Specialist Gage.” Helo didn’t bother to keep the contempt or outright loathing from his voice.
A nasty grin spread across Gage’s face. “It is indeed, sir.” His eyes shifted from Helo to Sharon, who took a step back from her husband and lifted a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. Gage nodded and the Marines moved quickly, wrenching Helo’s and Sam’s arms behind their backs, dragging Caprica from the cot. She wouldn’t let go of Hera, as wide-eyed as her mother, and the Marine slammed the butt of his rifle into Caprica's wrist. Her fingers released their hold and she cried out in pain.
Gage only smiled wider. “Two pretty Cylon bitches for us to play with.” One of the other men smiled, as well, when Gage continued, “Too bad the half-breed’s too young to bother with,” while the other two looked a little sick.
Helo and Sam both fought unsuccessfully to free themselves. Caprica glared murder at Gage, who still watched Sharon with greedy eyes. Sharon backed away another step. “Please don’t hurt my little girl,” she pleaded and Helo shot her a look, frowning. Gage didn’t notice the look, nor did the Marine holding him seem to notice when Helo stopped actively resisting, probably because the big man's muscles remained tense.
“You be nice to me,” Gage walked toward Sharon, closing the distance between them, “and we’ll see.” He kept walking, backed her up against the wall.
“Karl, what the frak?” Sam’s voice was as confused as his expression, but Helo never took his eyes off Sharon.
“You can’t do this!” Caprica shouted, but the man holding her clapped a hand over her mouth to prevent further protest.
Sharon shrank back against the wall as Gage caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “My, you are soft,” he whispered and reached his other hand to pull her close to him.
“And you are finished.” Helo had never seen Sharon move so quickly. In an instant, she had Gage’s face planted into the wall, his arm wrenched up so far behind his back, between his body and hers, that Helo was sure he heard the shoulder joint pop.
Almost as though they had planned it, Helo and the two other Cylons took advantage of their captors’ surprise, disarming them and holding them at bay with the Marines' own rifles. Through all that had come before, Hera had stayed silent and motionless, wide-eyed on the end of the cot, but as soon as the weapons were no longer trained on her parents, she ran to her father and wrapped her arms around his leg, burying her face in the blue fabric of his uniform trousers.
With another lightning-fast move, Sharon had her arm around Gage’s neck in a chokehold. “You sick motherfrakker,” she whispered in his ear. “I am Sharon Agathon, your superior officer, and you are a disgrace to the uniform and to the oath you took.”
She whirled him around like a rag doll to face Helo and Hera. “Look at them, you miserable frak.” Gage started to struggle, opened his mouth to say something, but Sharon tightened her arm and his face began to turn purple. “Know this, Specialist Gage. Karl Agathon is a man, an officer in the Colonial Fleet, and you’re not fit to clean his boots. Hera Agathon is the future of the human race, of the Cylon race, and you are not fit to speak her name.”
He started to choke and she loosened her hold enough that the alarming shade of purple faded from his skin. “Look at them, Gage. Are you looking?”
After a momentary hesitation, he nodded.
“Good. Because that’s the last sight you’ll ever see.” And with that, she snapped his neck.