Fic: "Back to Earth" (6/8)
Title: Back to Earth
Pairings: Helo/Gaeta, Helo/Sharon.
Rating: PG-13 for some sex, PTSD, bad language in the face of danger and, ya know, people killing robots.
Characters: Gaeta, Helo and Athena (minor characters are Anders, Dualla, Zarek and Hot Dog as well as some Eights and Sixes)
Spoilers: all the way up to 4.10
Beta: done by ebuchala. Thank you again!
Summary: The Cylons find the fleet just when all high-ranking personnel is off ship. Galactica's b-team has to execute a rescue mission but Gaeta is depressed, Helo feels guilty, something's going on with Sharon, and everybody knows the plan is suicide anyway.
Chapter summary: Gaeta waits for the other shoe to drop, and an Eight asks a question.
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5
Afterwards, Helo kept stroking him, hands moving down Felix’ torso, kissing his shoulders while Felix was still trying to catch his breath. It was dizzying to feel so much skin on his at once. He couldn’t even remember when he’d last had that. All of this was strange; it felt almost unreal. Helo should be the last man on Galactica to care when Felix came on to him, he was far out of his league. And Felix had almost forced him into bed with him, too, although Helo didn’t give an impression that he minded.
“Wow,” he muttered into the crook of Felix’ neck. “That was amazing.”
Startled, Felix chuckled. It was hard to concentrate. He knew that he should start being rational right about now. He should force himself to think of the fact that he had made Helo, who was one of Felix’ few friends, cheat on his wife. Worse even, Felix liked Sharon. Nothing good could come out of this at all. It would end badly in about five minutes. Still, he was just frakking amazed.
“Are you still angry?” Helo asked suddenly, raising his head to look at him.
“No,” Felix said. A second later it occurred to him that it was true. He wasn’t, and he didn’t know what to make of that at all. “No, I’m not. I’m…” he rushed on, struggling to get on his elbows. Helo gave him some space so he could, and Felix paused, searching his face. Helo smiled.
Gods, he couldn’t believe they had done this.
“Thank you, Helo,” he said quietly.
Helo’s lips twitched. “Pleasure’s all mine, Mr. Gaeta.”
He leaned forward to kiss him, and Felix couldn’t help but chuckle again against his lips.
Oh, godsdammit, Felix thought without much force, yielding when Helo deepened the kiss. He hadn’t even known how much he’d been yearning to be touched, the feeling having been buried under all the anger. He’d been afraid. He was still afraid. His leg was gone, and he didn’t think he could do this on his own. If the only thing you ever touched all day was the keypad of your console, it was hard to remember that people cared. Even if he knew that they did, theoretically, on some level. They had to.
But Helo obviously cared. Enough so that he’d gone completely out of character for Felix. And cheated on his wife.
Right now, Helo was stroking down his torso, brushing over the thigh of the leg that wasn’t there anymore, and Felix shuddered, suddenly thinking that if Helo would want to touch him there, he’d even let him.
“We don’t want you to give up hope,” Helo said emphatically. “You know that, right?”
Hope for what? Felix wanted to answer but didn’t because yeah, he knew. He knew that Dee cared, after all, and so did Helo. It was strange, he thought, how angry he had been at Helo. He’d known it was irrational. He’d known that Helo had made the right choice on Demetrius. Earth was more important than his leg, and of course Helo had gone along with his wife.
Nevertheless, Helo was lying in his rack now, holding Felix, because Felix had asked him to, acting as if Felix had a right to ask, too.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry I was angry at you. I wasn’t…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Helo interrupted him. “I understand…”
But he was interrupted, too, because the phone rang. They stilled.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Helo said, getting up from the rack in one swift move, and Felix looked after him, automatically checking whether it would be suspicious for Helo to answer the phone in Felix’ quarters. But, no. As hard as it was to remember it, he was the XO right now. If they called here, they were probably searching for Helo anyway.
Watching Helo identifying himself and listening to the communications officer, Felix sat up on the rack himself. Helo was a stunning sight, muscle from top to bottom and fully unaware of his nudity. It was certainly a sight Felix would never have expected in his quarters, not even when he still indulged in the occasional fantasy but especially now. Unconsciously, his hand moved to grip his leg, expecting it to hurt.
“Understood,” Helo was saying, then, “I’ll be with you in a minute.” Hanging up, he looked at Felix, saying “Sharon’s back from recon,” and Felix cringed when Helo paused abruptly, conflicting emotions starting to play on his face.
Right. There was that. Because nothing about all this was actually good.
Helo stilled, clearing his voice. “Listen, Felix. Take your time with that shower. You won’t get another break before launch. Dee can give you a recap of the debriefing later. And… Sharon…”
“She won’t get it from me,” Felix interrupted him, the words spilling out before he could think about them. He was used to this, he tried to tell himself. He was used to messing up things and bearing the consequences, even if they only were his fault partly. He couldn’t quite decide who was at fault in this instance. After all it had been he who’d made Helo…
“Alright,” Helo said, like he wasn’t happy with it but didn’t have a better idea. “Thank you.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Quietly, Felix watched him getting dressed with a minimum of motions; with the practiced ease they’d all developed after their third or fourth action stations call. Felix too, of course, before he’d grown so damaged he couldn’t even get dressed easily. He watched Helo give himself a cursory look in the mirror, giving Felix a last long look as if he wanted to say something more. But he didn’t, and the hatch closed behind him.
Felix took a breath, exhaling slowly. I’m used to this, he thought again. This isn’t actually bad. It wouldn’t be the first time he maneuvered himself into becoming somebody’s dirty secret, he thought, remembering Gaius whispering into his ear, mouth dry. At least, Helo wouldn’t use him as an emotional punching back, or use this against him. He hoped. It was hard to say what people were ready to do if they had to keep a secret from the person they loved. He’d overextended Helo’s friendship as it was.
And if this cost him that friendship, it would only be fair, Felix guessed. He’d have to wait for cues and just… try and act naturally around Sharon. There’d be a lot of acting like nothing had happened, and everything might just work out in the end, without Helo getting mad at them both, neither Felix nor himself. If he was lucky, for a change.
Hah, he thought, pressing his lips together. Screw that idea right away.
Getting up, careful not to overbalance and forcing his mind back to work, Felix thought that maybe, they would all die on the rescue mission anyway and he wouldn’t have to dwell on it at all. That would be nice.
It was strange how instead of feeling angry, he just felt lonely now.
Helo went through the motions of his shift in distraction, unable to stop his thoughts from racing. Even the hour he spent with Hera in daycare didn’t help; it just made him feel more guilty. He couldn’t believe what he had done. Karl Agathon was not the kind of man to cheat on his wife. There was just no way. And still, he couldn’t get himself to believe he should have done anything differently… except maybe not enjoy it so much.
Godsdammit.
But still. Helo had a feeling that maybe, Gaeta... Felix had needed something like this, not sex but maybe some proof that at least for a moment, he could be more important to someone than somebody else. It couldn’t be wrong to provide that, and it still broke his heart to even think about it. Helo loved Sharon but exactly that had been a part of all this. If Felix really had as few friends as it appeared, how could he not have done something? He was a good guy, Felix. He wasn’t supposed to be alone, especially not now.
So, how to explain it to Sharon? Helo knew he had to, there was no question about that. However, the two of them were still fighting. He found himself avoiding her all day, guilt about Felix replaced by guilt about Sharon, all of it twisted together and messed up.
It didn’t help that their major pre-launch mission briefing was just weird, full of people giving each other meaningful looks or the other way around, avoiding looking each other in the eye. Helo was fully aware he himself was avoiding looking at Sharon but she didn’t seem to notice, not looking at him herself, chin stubbornly raised. Felix was a study of professional cool, just a tad too tense to be real, which clearly Sam thought was directed at him. In charge of moving the ship models on the mission table, Dee managed to shoot daggers at Zarek, who grinned at her, and simultaneously tried to catch Felix’ eyes, who ignored her. The only person oblivious appeared to be Hot Dog, who made an impression like he was on his way to developing an ulcer.
Helo’s stomach made a twist. It was madness, all of it was. They were like characters from a soap opera, except they were trying to launch an attack that all the fleet’s survival depended upon. None of them was usually more than a pawn in the greater picture. Apart from him, every single person in this room held the rank of lieutenant or beyond. And they didn’t even know if the Old Man, Kara and everybody down on Earth were still alive.
“I’ll handle the press,” Zarek said after the briefing was over. “Don’t worry about them. You concentrate on bringing everybody home safely, I’ll deal with everything else.”
“Thank you,” Helo said, feeling somehow like he was issuing a blank check but knowing he didn’t have a choice. Besides, Zarek had done a lot. Screw what Admiral Adama would want him to do. Frankly, Admiral Adama wasn’t the one to command this mission, and Helo had to use what he got. “Sergeant Hadrian will meet up with you on Colonial One. She’ll help you coordinate the marines and execute the contingency plans in case… in case we won’t jump back.”
“You’ll make it, Captain. We won’t lose Galactica. I don’t doubt it for a minute.” Strangely, it was the first time Helo ever had the feeling that Tom Zarek was being sincere. His handshake felt fatherly, in a surreal fashion.
Looking over at the mission table where Sharon was approaching Felix with launch detail, his XO’s face utterly blank, Helo felt dizzy. If he was capable of screwing up his marriage and friendships without even noticing he was doing so, how could he ever be expected to fly an attack against a Cylon fleet and win?
Sharon had a long last talk with Hot Dog who kept nodding and looking like his brains were about to burst from concentration, all the while glancing at the pilots’ mission room in dread. As far as she could make out, the fact he had to give a prep speech freaked him out more than flying a viper ever could. Then, she went down to the landing deck to make sure her raptor got prepped properly for the mission. Skulls was already there, looking her a question when she arrived without Helo but Sharon ignored it. Her mind was set on the mission.
“Everything going alright, Chief?” she asked Figurski. She’d observed him carefully on the drills as had been one of her jobs, making sure he was fine with the deck protocols. He was a bit slow, not at all as quick a thinker as Tyrol or Laird but two shifts ago, she’d come down to find the knuckledraggers working to a new pace that felt strange, but it worked. Considering how Figurski visibly stopped himself from looking around in search when she addressed him as Chief, however, he seemed to be a bit in over his head.
Then again, who wasn’t. With bemusement, Sharon realized that she hadn’t thought about what Adama or Apollo would do in their places for a couple of shifts now. She’d been perfectly fine on her own. A lot of people had been - unexpected ones, too. As far as she could tell, Dee and the CIC had worked on like nothing had changed at all.
“Uhm, yes, sir, thanks, everything’s going as it should,” Figurski said nervously. “There’s just... well, you have a visitor.”
Sharon looked him a question and Figurski stepped aside, one of the Eights from the basestar coming into view. Face darkening, Sharon gave her a hard look. She didn’t know which one it was since they all were the frakking same but at least this Eight was dressed, in what looked like Boomer’s clothes. She recognized them easily. They’d once been hers.
So the Eights had found themselves some kind of new mission, including a new emissary. Sharon couldn’t wait to hear that story.
The Eight gave her the blank smile of the copies who hadn’t been programmed with memories or sets of skills. “I want to come on the mission with you in the raptor, Athena,” she said. “So I can help against the Ones.” The Ones who’d stolen Boomer but she didn’t have to say that aloud for Sharon to hear it.
Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Sharon recognized her own stance as defensive but didn’t give a damn. “Please tell me the Eights have developed a sense of humor and this is a joke.”
“Please take me along,” the Eight said with urgency in that almost-human tone of voice. In the corner of her eye she saw Figurski shooting them both nervous looks, the Sharon in the flight suit and the almost-Sharon in Boomer’s civvie clothes. Skulls just looked interested.
“That’s so ridiculous I don’t even know what you want me to say,” Sharon sneered. “What, you hoping to get Boomer back from that basestar? Still want me to lead your rebellion or something?”
“No.” Playing with the sleeve of her jacket, the Eight didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands. Sharon watched her in sick fascination. So that was what it looked like when you put one of the empty ones into clothes, let them play at being human for a bit. “This hasn’t been decided by the Eights, just by me. I asked the marines to bring me over. I want to come with you myself, and help.”
Sharon blinked. “You,” she repeated blankly.
“I want to be different from the others,” said the Eight. “I want to be my one person like you are. So I want to do something on my own. None of the others thought of it.” She sounded just a bit proud of that.
Well, frak me, Sharon thought.
For a moment it was hard to come up with an answer, just no reaction occurring whatsoever. The Eight mirrored Sharon’s own recent trail of thoughts so closely that it was scary, entirely not what she wanted to hear but at the same time, she suddenly felt strangely pleased.
Not as dependent on other people as you thought, huh, Caprica?
Suddenly, she needed to know, thinking maybe she could figure it all out right here.
“Alright,” she said slowly. “I’ll try to clear it with the CO.” The CO who’d given her the most cursory and formal goodbye. “Go find yourself a flight suit in the meantime.”
A grin split the Eight’s face then, so bright that Sharon rolled her eyes because Gods, she’d never grinned in such a dorky way ever. Skulls was raising an eyebrow at her and she shrugged, looking after the Eight trailing after Figurski towards the duty lockers.
Maybe it was time to figure some things out. She sure owed it to Helo after being such a bitch that by now, he didn’t even look her in the eyes anymore.
Chapter 7
Feedback would be nice. :)
Pairings: Helo/Gaeta, Helo/Sharon.
Rating: PG-13 for some sex, PTSD, bad language in the face of danger and, ya know, people killing robots.
Characters: Gaeta, Helo and Athena (minor characters are Anders, Dualla, Zarek and Hot Dog as well as some Eights and Sixes)
Spoilers: all the way up to 4.10
Beta: done by ebuchala. Thank you again!
Summary: The Cylons find the fleet just when all high-ranking personnel is off ship. Galactica's b-team has to execute a rescue mission but Gaeta is depressed, Helo feels guilty, something's going on with Sharon, and everybody knows the plan is suicide anyway.
Chapter summary: Gaeta waits for the other shoe to drop, and an Eight asks a question.
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5
Afterwards, Helo kept stroking him, hands moving down Felix’ torso, kissing his shoulders while Felix was still trying to catch his breath. It was dizzying to feel so much skin on his at once. He couldn’t even remember when he’d last had that. All of this was strange; it felt almost unreal. Helo should be the last man on Galactica to care when Felix came on to him, he was far out of his league. And Felix had almost forced him into bed with him, too, although Helo didn’t give an impression that he minded.
“Wow,” he muttered into the crook of Felix’ neck. “That was amazing.”
Startled, Felix chuckled. It was hard to concentrate. He knew that he should start being rational right about now. He should force himself to think of the fact that he had made Helo, who was one of Felix’ few friends, cheat on his wife. Worse even, Felix liked Sharon. Nothing good could come out of this at all. It would end badly in about five minutes. Still, he was just frakking amazed.
“Are you still angry?” Helo asked suddenly, raising his head to look at him.
“No,” Felix said. A second later it occurred to him that it was true. He wasn’t, and he didn’t know what to make of that at all. “No, I’m not. I’m…” he rushed on, struggling to get on his elbows. Helo gave him some space so he could, and Felix paused, searching his face. Helo smiled.
Gods, he couldn’t believe they had done this.
“Thank you, Helo,” he said quietly.
Helo’s lips twitched. “Pleasure’s all mine, Mr. Gaeta.”
He leaned forward to kiss him, and Felix couldn’t help but chuckle again against his lips.
Oh, godsdammit, Felix thought without much force, yielding when Helo deepened the kiss. He hadn’t even known how much he’d been yearning to be touched, the feeling having been buried under all the anger. He’d been afraid. He was still afraid. His leg was gone, and he didn’t think he could do this on his own. If the only thing you ever touched all day was the keypad of your console, it was hard to remember that people cared. Even if he knew that they did, theoretically, on some level. They had to.
But Helo obviously cared. Enough so that he’d gone completely out of character for Felix. And cheated on his wife.
Right now, Helo was stroking down his torso, brushing over the thigh of the leg that wasn’t there anymore, and Felix shuddered, suddenly thinking that if Helo would want to touch him there, he’d even let him.
“We don’t want you to give up hope,” Helo said emphatically. “You know that, right?”
Hope for what? Felix wanted to answer but didn’t because yeah, he knew. He knew that Dee cared, after all, and so did Helo. It was strange, he thought, how angry he had been at Helo. He’d known it was irrational. He’d known that Helo had made the right choice on Demetrius. Earth was more important than his leg, and of course Helo had gone along with his wife.
Nevertheless, Helo was lying in his rack now, holding Felix, because Felix had asked him to, acting as if Felix had a right to ask, too.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry I was angry at you. I wasn’t…”
“Don’t worry about it,” Helo interrupted him. “I understand…”
But he was interrupted, too, because the phone rang. They stilled.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Helo said, getting up from the rack in one swift move, and Felix looked after him, automatically checking whether it would be suspicious for Helo to answer the phone in Felix’ quarters. But, no. As hard as it was to remember it, he was the XO right now. If they called here, they were probably searching for Helo anyway.
Watching Helo identifying himself and listening to the communications officer, Felix sat up on the rack himself. Helo was a stunning sight, muscle from top to bottom and fully unaware of his nudity. It was certainly a sight Felix would never have expected in his quarters, not even when he still indulged in the occasional fantasy but especially now. Unconsciously, his hand moved to grip his leg, expecting it to hurt.
“Understood,” Helo was saying, then, “I’ll be with you in a minute.” Hanging up, he looked at Felix, saying “Sharon’s back from recon,” and Felix cringed when Helo paused abruptly, conflicting emotions starting to play on his face.
Right. There was that. Because nothing about all this was actually good.
Helo stilled, clearing his voice. “Listen, Felix. Take your time with that shower. You won’t get another break before launch. Dee can give you a recap of the debriefing later. And… Sharon…”
“She won’t get it from me,” Felix interrupted him, the words spilling out before he could think about them. He was used to this, he tried to tell himself. He was used to messing up things and bearing the consequences, even if they only were his fault partly. He couldn’t quite decide who was at fault in this instance. After all it had been he who’d made Helo…
“Alright,” Helo said, like he wasn’t happy with it but didn’t have a better idea. “Thank you.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Quietly, Felix watched him getting dressed with a minimum of motions; with the practiced ease they’d all developed after their third or fourth action stations call. Felix too, of course, before he’d grown so damaged he couldn’t even get dressed easily. He watched Helo give himself a cursory look in the mirror, giving Felix a last long look as if he wanted to say something more. But he didn’t, and the hatch closed behind him.
Felix took a breath, exhaling slowly. I’m used to this, he thought again. This isn’t actually bad. It wouldn’t be the first time he maneuvered himself into becoming somebody’s dirty secret, he thought, remembering Gaius whispering into his ear, mouth dry. At least, Helo wouldn’t use him as an emotional punching back, or use this against him. He hoped. It was hard to say what people were ready to do if they had to keep a secret from the person they loved. He’d overextended Helo’s friendship as it was.
And if this cost him that friendship, it would only be fair, Felix guessed. He’d have to wait for cues and just… try and act naturally around Sharon. There’d be a lot of acting like nothing had happened, and everything might just work out in the end, without Helo getting mad at them both, neither Felix nor himself. If he was lucky, for a change.
Hah, he thought, pressing his lips together. Screw that idea right away.
Getting up, careful not to overbalance and forcing his mind back to work, Felix thought that maybe, they would all die on the rescue mission anyway and he wouldn’t have to dwell on it at all. That would be nice.
It was strange how instead of feeling angry, he just felt lonely now.
Helo went through the motions of his shift in distraction, unable to stop his thoughts from racing. Even the hour he spent with Hera in daycare didn’t help; it just made him feel more guilty. He couldn’t believe what he had done. Karl Agathon was not the kind of man to cheat on his wife. There was just no way. And still, he couldn’t get himself to believe he should have done anything differently… except maybe not enjoy it so much.
Godsdammit.
But still. Helo had a feeling that maybe, Gaeta... Felix had needed something like this, not sex but maybe some proof that at least for a moment, he could be more important to someone than somebody else. It couldn’t be wrong to provide that, and it still broke his heart to even think about it. Helo loved Sharon but exactly that had been a part of all this. If Felix really had as few friends as it appeared, how could he not have done something? He was a good guy, Felix. He wasn’t supposed to be alone, especially not now.
So, how to explain it to Sharon? Helo knew he had to, there was no question about that. However, the two of them were still fighting. He found himself avoiding her all day, guilt about Felix replaced by guilt about Sharon, all of it twisted together and messed up.
It didn’t help that their major pre-launch mission briefing was just weird, full of people giving each other meaningful looks or the other way around, avoiding looking each other in the eye. Helo was fully aware he himself was avoiding looking at Sharon but she didn’t seem to notice, not looking at him herself, chin stubbornly raised. Felix was a study of professional cool, just a tad too tense to be real, which clearly Sam thought was directed at him. In charge of moving the ship models on the mission table, Dee managed to shoot daggers at Zarek, who grinned at her, and simultaneously tried to catch Felix’ eyes, who ignored her. The only person oblivious appeared to be Hot Dog, who made an impression like he was on his way to developing an ulcer.
Helo’s stomach made a twist. It was madness, all of it was. They were like characters from a soap opera, except they were trying to launch an attack that all the fleet’s survival depended upon. None of them was usually more than a pawn in the greater picture. Apart from him, every single person in this room held the rank of lieutenant or beyond. And they didn’t even know if the Old Man, Kara and everybody down on Earth were still alive.
“I’ll handle the press,” Zarek said after the briefing was over. “Don’t worry about them. You concentrate on bringing everybody home safely, I’ll deal with everything else.”
“Thank you,” Helo said, feeling somehow like he was issuing a blank check but knowing he didn’t have a choice. Besides, Zarek had done a lot. Screw what Admiral Adama would want him to do. Frankly, Admiral Adama wasn’t the one to command this mission, and Helo had to use what he got. “Sergeant Hadrian will meet up with you on Colonial One. She’ll help you coordinate the marines and execute the contingency plans in case… in case we won’t jump back.”
“You’ll make it, Captain. We won’t lose Galactica. I don’t doubt it for a minute.” Strangely, it was the first time Helo ever had the feeling that Tom Zarek was being sincere. His handshake felt fatherly, in a surreal fashion.
Looking over at the mission table where Sharon was approaching Felix with launch detail, his XO’s face utterly blank, Helo felt dizzy. If he was capable of screwing up his marriage and friendships without even noticing he was doing so, how could he ever be expected to fly an attack against a Cylon fleet and win?
Sharon had a long last talk with Hot Dog who kept nodding and looking like his brains were about to burst from concentration, all the while glancing at the pilots’ mission room in dread. As far as she could make out, the fact he had to give a prep speech freaked him out more than flying a viper ever could. Then, she went down to the landing deck to make sure her raptor got prepped properly for the mission. Skulls was already there, looking her a question when she arrived without Helo but Sharon ignored it. Her mind was set on the mission.
“Everything going alright, Chief?” she asked Figurski. She’d observed him carefully on the drills as had been one of her jobs, making sure he was fine with the deck protocols. He was a bit slow, not at all as quick a thinker as Tyrol or Laird but two shifts ago, she’d come down to find the knuckledraggers working to a new pace that felt strange, but it worked. Considering how Figurski visibly stopped himself from looking around in search when she addressed him as Chief, however, he seemed to be a bit in over his head.
Then again, who wasn’t. With bemusement, Sharon realized that she hadn’t thought about what Adama or Apollo would do in their places for a couple of shifts now. She’d been perfectly fine on her own. A lot of people had been - unexpected ones, too. As far as she could tell, Dee and the CIC had worked on like nothing had changed at all.
“Uhm, yes, sir, thanks, everything’s going as it should,” Figurski said nervously. “There’s just... well, you have a visitor.”
Sharon looked him a question and Figurski stepped aside, one of the Eights from the basestar coming into view. Face darkening, Sharon gave her a hard look. She didn’t know which one it was since they all were the frakking same but at least this Eight was dressed, in what looked like Boomer’s clothes. She recognized them easily. They’d once been hers.
So the Eights had found themselves some kind of new mission, including a new emissary. Sharon couldn’t wait to hear that story.
The Eight gave her the blank smile of the copies who hadn’t been programmed with memories or sets of skills. “I want to come on the mission with you in the raptor, Athena,” she said. “So I can help against the Ones.” The Ones who’d stolen Boomer but she didn’t have to say that aloud for Sharon to hear it.
Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Sharon recognized her own stance as defensive but didn’t give a damn. “Please tell me the Eights have developed a sense of humor and this is a joke.”
“Please take me along,” the Eight said with urgency in that almost-human tone of voice. In the corner of her eye she saw Figurski shooting them both nervous looks, the Sharon in the flight suit and the almost-Sharon in Boomer’s civvie clothes. Skulls just looked interested.
“That’s so ridiculous I don’t even know what you want me to say,” Sharon sneered. “What, you hoping to get Boomer back from that basestar? Still want me to lead your rebellion or something?”
“No.” Playing with the sleeve of her jacket, the Eight didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands. Sharon watched her in sick fascination. So that was what it looked like when you put one of the empty ones into clothes, let them play at being human for a bit. “This hasn’t been decided by the Eights, just by me. I asked the marines to bring me over. I want to come with you myself, and help.”
Sharon blinked. “You,” she repeated blankly.
“I want to be different from the others,” said the Eight. “I want to be my one person like you are. So I want to do something on my own. None of the others thought of it.” She sounded just a bit proud of that.
Well, frak me, Sharon thought.
For a moment it was hard to come up with an answer, just no reaction occurring whatsoever. The Eight mirrored Sharon’s own recent trail of thoughts so closely that it was scary, entirely not what she wanted to hear but at the same time, she suddenly felt strangely pleased.
Not as dependent on other people as you thought, huh, Caprica?
Suddenly, she needed to know, thinking maybe she could figure it all out right here.
“Alright,” she said slowly. “I’ll try to clear it with the CO.” The CO who’d given her the most cursory and formal goodbye. “Go find yourself a flight suit in the meantime.”
A grin split the Eight’s face then, so bright that Sharon rolled her eyes because Gods, she’d never grinned in such a dorky way ever. Skulls was raising an eyebrow at her and she shrugged, looking after the Eight trailing after Figurski towards the duty lockers.
Maybe it was time to figure some things out. She sure owed it to Helo after being such a bitch that by now, he didn’t even look her in the eyes anymore.
Chapter 7
Feedback would be nice. :)