Scars that Words have Carved 8/9
Title: Scars that Words Have Carved
Fandom: BSG/Buffyverse
Chapter: 8/9
Words: ~4200
Pairings: Lee/Kara, Kara/Faith, Faith/Kat
Rating: PG-13 - NC-17 (PG-13 this chapter)
Setting: S2.5-S4.0
Summary: The day was grey, a completely ordinary day on New Caprica. No reason to suspect that today was gonna be humanity’s last day on this rock-one way or the other.
Beta'd by taragel
Previous Chapters Here
Faith cast a glance down at her watch. Five minutes to go. Five minutes ’til hell broke loose. It couldn’t happen soon enough, she was starting to get sick of all this waiting. For the tenth time in the last hour, she slid her pistol from where it was hidden against the small of her back, clicked the safety off and on, and slid it back into its place.
The day was grey, a completely ordinary day on New Caprica. No reason to suspect that today was gonna be humanity’s last day on this rock-one way or the other.
Faith ran through the plan in her head one more time. Galactica was waiting to jump into orbit. She wasn’t sure how they were planning to get around the fact that there were five basestars circling the planet at all times. It wasn’t her department anyway. All she had to focus on was the ground. In five minutes, several strategically placed bombs were gonna go off-minimal human casualties expected; just enough to keep the cylons busy so they could pull off the evacuation plan.
Sam had gone on for a while that morning about the importance of timing but she’d tuned it all out. There was only one thing Faith had to focus on now, and that was getting aboard Colonial One. Once the bombs started going off, security around the President’s ship should drop, while forces went out to deal with the rebels. If she was fast, and if she was smart, she should be able to get aboard and get the kill.
There were a few holes in the plan. For one, she didn’t exactly have an escape route.
The fact wasn’t exactly bothering her.
Faith checked her watch again. Four minutes. She reached for her pistol, checked her bullets, and put it away again.
---
Kara had prayed for his soul, once. It’d seemed like a good idea at the time.
Now, living with him daily, she knew that Leoben sweated and bled and prayed. And he came back, again and again and again.
She’d never really thought she’d see him again after Roslin airlocked him. But her blood had run cold when he met her at the door of this prison cell pretending to be an apartment. Kara had known it was him, the same one she’d pulled out her idols for, immediately. She snapped his neck before he’d even spoken a word, the first minute she could after he removed the handcuffs.
The second time she’d gotten close enough, she got him in the gut with a dinner knife and watched him bleed out on the floor. Mealtimes were a bitch after she wasn’t allowed to have silverware anymore.
He never raised a hand against her. Sometimes she’d wished he would, even though she remembers the way he slammed her into a wall. Kara knew he could kill her if he so chose but he didn’t seem to want that. Still, she wished he would give her something to hit, get close enough so she could make him bleed again. It was the only satisfaction she could get in this frakking dollhouse. (Well, that wasn’t exactly true-the sounds of bombs, sirens in the distance, her chaos still living on brought a measure of satisfaction, as well.)
He also never raised his voice-sometimes he talked to her as though talking to a child that didn’t understand. Next time she got the chance to kill him, it would be for that. Most of the time, he just talked at her like he didn’t have any frakking idea how to shut the frak up.
After two months, for the sheer hell of it, she asked him why. He started up again about how “God” wanted her here and how “God” wanted them to be together.
“But why here?” Kara waved her arm at the obnoxiously domestic settings.
“You’re safer here,” he said, with that insufferable little grin. “Besides, I like your company.”
She walked away from him, sat at the top of the stairs, her knees tucked to her chest. He came to her; he always did. She gave him a hard shove back and sent him hurtling down the steps. The cylon body hit the ground with a dull thud. Blood pooled bright red against the dull grey carpet. She knelt beside the body, pressing two fingers against his neck. No pulse. Good.
Kara left the body-it’d be gone; somehow, something always got rid of the body when she wasn’t paying attention-and locked herself in the bathroom. Her heart pounded in her chest, her skin crawled, and she suddenly felt the need for a cold shower. She shed her clothes and stepped under the icy spray.
She wondered briefly how much time she had-hours, maybe a day tops until he came back-before shaking the thought from her head. She didn’t want to think about the return, just wanted to focus on her minor victory and the ice water on her skin.
When she turned off the faucet, Kara could hear a distant blast followed by a low siren wailing in the distance. A small smile spread across her lips as she got back into her clothes. Another explosion, closer-the resistance was really on top of things today. She wished she could be there to congratulate them later. She walked out into the living room just in time for a third blast, so close this time she could feel the ground, the walls, rumble with the shock of the explosion.
Something was up.
---
Voices. Frak.
Faith ducked into an empty room, pressing herself up against the bulkhead. She chanced a look around the corner at two skin-jobs caught up arguing-two of the model number fives. They sounded panicked and Faith had to hold in a laugh. Even if the entire plan went to shit, the frakking frenzy they’d driven the cylons into was good enough for her. She wasn’t going to live to see the consequences anyway.
They passed her by without even a second glance. She took a breath, waiting until the coast was clear before venturing out. She rounded the corner, out into the corridor and ran straight into a solid mass she hadn’t seen coming. She gave a hard shove back, knocking the newcomer to the floor, and drawing her pistol, the identity of the passerby sinking in as she took aim.
“Gaeta,” she hissed.
“Slayer?” Gaeta held his hands up in defense as he slowly got to his feet. She noted briefly that he looked like shit. “What the frak are you doing here?”
“Got business with the Prez,” she said, pulling back her weapon.
He lowered his hands. “If you’re here to-”
Faith brought the grip of her gun down hard against his temple and he crumpled to the ground. Frakking collaborator wasn’t worth wasting a bullet on. He was going to get what was coming to him. She turned, leaving the unconscious traitor in the corridor as she took off in a sprint.
As Faith approached the President’s office, she could hear voices coming from inside. She stood along the wall outside and peered through the open hatch-Gaius frakking Baltar, one of the ones like Gina, and a third one, a Three, that Faith had seen a few times around the marketplace.
She raised her gun again, peering around the corner, hoping to get a good shot from the doorway. She zeroed in on Baltar’s head, her finger tense on the trigger, when she saw the one with the platinum hair look her way. Faith squeezed the trigger before the Six could shout a warning. The cylon stepped forward, shoving Baltar out of the way, taking the bullet square in the shoulder.
Since her cover was officially blown, Faith strode into the room, still firing. The feel of her finger on the trigger was the only thing that registered. Everything else, the screaming and shouting were all a hazy din. When the other cylon lunged for her, Faith managed to get her in the arm, before firing off four more shots at Baltar. Two bullets struck his desk, another the bulkhead behind him, and a fourth hit the hideous portrait of himself he’d hung there.
Faith reached for her extra ammo clip, reloaded, and raised to start shooting again. Baltar sprinted for the other end of the room, ducking for cover behind a couch. She hit him once, the bullet grazing his side, her other four hit the leather, and the last one struck the ceiling as the injured Six lunged at her, taking her out at the legs.
Faith’s head banged the metal floor with a sharp smack, her vision blurring white for a moment as pain bloomed in the back of her skull. Suddenly the room that had seemed devoid of anything but her and her target was filled with noise.
She could hear Baltar screaming like a little child behind the couch. “Oh for God’s sake, it’s just a bullet,” the Three said, walking over to where the Six still had Faith pinned to the ground. “Figures the insurgents would send someone to kill the President.”
“What should we do with her?” the Six asked.
“Take her to the baseship,” Three snapped. “We’ve lost control of the situation on the ground and we’re evacuating.”
“Frak that,” Faith shouted, writhing to get out of the cylon’s grip. “Why don’t you motherfrakkers just kill me now?”
The Three looked her over once and then turned towards the Six. “She’s part of the fleet-” It gestured towards Faith’s tanks. “-she might be useful to us later on.”
Two strong arms hauled Faith to her feet. Her head swam and her vision faltered again but a surge of strength coursed through her. Useful meant they were going to keep her around, keep her surviving at the very least. “Like hell!” she hissed, trying to yank herself free. “Get your hands off of me, bastards!” Her voice was shrill, desperate, but she couldn’t get the leverage to free herself.
Faith let out a strangled cry as the two skin-jobs holding her pulled her out into the corridor. “No!” She chanted it again and again, each time the word growing weaker until she realized that maybe this was what was coming to her all along. She was a murderer, worthless piece of shit. She wasn’t sure she believed in the gods, not the way Kara did, but she thought that if they were out there looking down at her now, they probably had frakking smug grins on their faces.
Faith shut her eyes to the sound of gunshots.
---
Kara took the stairs two at a time and raced out into the hall. Her hands closed around the bars, listening to the gunfire and shouting voices in the distance. Another explosion went off, the building shuddering as plaster dust from the ceiling showered down.
From the dark shadows at the end of the hall she could hear someone calling her name. “Kara?”
She recognized the voice. “Sam?” she called back into the darkness. She could make out a shadow stepping forward into the light. She felt a huge bubble of relief welling up at the sight of a familiar face. “What the hell took you so long?”
“Get back.” Sam raised his rifle to aim at the lock on the bars. She stood back against the wall as he fired off a burst of shots. The metal of the lock gave way and clattered to the ground. “We thought you were dead, Kara,” he said as she pulled the bars back. “Ever since they got Tigh and let him go… everyone just assumed the worst.” Sam drew a pistol from his pocket and tossed it to her. “Everyone except Faith.”
“Faith?” She raised an eyebrow. “Not exactly what I expected,” she said, turning the gun over in her hands. Gods, what she wouldn’t have done for one of these the past few months. She looked back up at Sam. “Where is she?”
He faltered. “I’m sure we’ll see her back on Galactica.” Kara’s eyes narrowed, studying his face. He turned on his heel and started back down the hallway. “Come on, we gotta go. The Raptor is waiting.”
She caught up to him as they made their way out into the open air. “What aren’t you telling me, Sammy?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responded a little too late.
“You’re a shit liar,” she said, catching him by the arm and bringing him to a stop. “What are you hiding?”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay, I don’t know anything for sure, but I saw her talking to Tigh earlier and at the beginning of the evacuation I saw her head off towards Colonial One.” The tone of voice said he was still skirting the issues.
“What was she talking to Tigh about?”
“Look, Kara, I don’t know!” he snapped. “I had my own work to do… but I know that Tigh has a huge vendetta against Baltar. Even sent Duck on a suicide run just for a chance to get him.”
Kara’s eyes went wide as she felt her heart drop into her stomach. “She’s going after him. That frakking idiot,” she hissed. She turned to head off towards the President’s ship when Sam caught her by the arm.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Where do you think?” She pulled her arm free, ready to take off again.
“You can’t. Kara, that was an hour ago, either she did it and she’s gone or…” he trailed off, shaking his head.
Kara drew the gun he’d given her and pressed it against his chin. “Faith didn’t give up on me, no frakking way I’m going to give up on her. Now, you wanna try to stop me?” Luckily, he was smart enough not to reply. She lowered the gun and started running off towards Colonial One.
Frak. Leave it to Faith to go off and do something bone-headed like an assassination attempt on a ship filled with cylons. She had a couple choice words she’d save for Tigh next time she saw him too-manipulative bastard using her like that.
The streets were practically empty now, except for bodies. She could hear the roar of engines, ships long grounded taking flight and shooting into the sky. Her feet just kept pounding the dirt road, her pace unrelenting as she focused solely on her target. Her focus was so single-minded that she had no idea Sam was gaining on her until he caught her about the waist. She dropped the gun as he pulled her over his shoulder.
“Let me down, frakker!” she screamed beating her hands against his back, her legs kicking in the air.
“Dammit, Kara,” he cried, narrowly avoiding a knee to the face. “The Raptor’s leaving! We have to go now!”
He managed to keep his hold on her, despite her kicking and screaming, until they got onto the Raptor and the hatch sealed shut behind them. The engines kicked in and Kara stared out the windscreen, watching New Caprica disappear beneath them-frakking hell, there was no going back now. As the fact sunk in, she dropped to the floor, sitting back against the ECO console, dragging her knees to her chest.
---
Lee shoved his way through the crowded deck. There were so many people, most of them civilian refugees, but a few were familiar faces. He saw Tigh (most of him anyway), Chief, many Galactica and Pegasus pilots who had mustered out when they’d gotten the chance, but he still couldn’t find the one person he was looking for.
His heart started to sink. What if she hadn’t made it? What if she’d died down there? He knew she would have been working to lead the resistance, which made her a prime target for the cylons. What if they’d killed her down there? It wasn’t as though he hadn’t worried about it over the last four months. Hell, there were nights he couldn’t sleep, too plagued by the thoughts that he might never see Kara again-thoughts that quickly seemed like they were becoming reality.
The last Raptor was being brought in to the hangar bay and Lee pushed his way through the throng of people. The hatch opened and he held a long breath as the occupants filed out. Then suddenly he saw a flash of familiar blonde hair and Kara came into view. A wave of elation crashed through him as she stepped down to the deck and he was tempted to thank the gods he didn’t believe in for bringing her back alive.
Lee rushed forward, elbowing roughly through the crowd and her eyes caught his, just as he threw his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. He felt her let out a shuddering breath against his neck and sag into him, her hands coming up, balling his uniform in her fists. Lee felt a fleeting rush of fear that he was going to wake up in his quarters on Pegasus any moment. She tilted her head up to him and he just drank in the sight of her for a moment before sealing his mouth hard over hers.
Lee only pulled back from the kiss when he finally realized that oxygen was becoming an issue. He pulled back for air, panting as he dropped his forehead to rest against hers. “You’re back.” He let out a breathless laugh and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You’re alive. Lords, I was worried that I was never going to see you again. Planning and training for the rescue was talking so long, I thought that we were going to be too late. I thought-”
She pressed her lips to his once more, cutting him off mid-babble. When she pulled back this time, he brought up his hands to smooth her hair away from her face. She looked back up at him; there was something dark and tired in his eyes. “I started to think you weren’t coming back.”
Lee pulled her tighter into his embrace and buried his cheek against her hair, shaking his head. “Never,” he whispered, brushing a light kiss to her temple. “Gods, I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” she breathed.
For a moment she sank into him and he gladly took her weight, holding her up. Lee just basked in the feeling of having her in his arms again, holding her body tight against his. For the first time in four months, he could feel himself relax finally, believing that things were going to be okay. But the next moment Kara stiffened in his arms and pushed back, freeing herself from his grip. He felt his brow furrow as he looked into her eyes-wide and frantic. “Have you seen Faith?”
He shook his head slowly. “No… I haven’t.”
“Frak,” Kara hissed to herself, turning away and disappearing into the crowd. Lee pushed his way after her, watching as she strode straight for Tigh, her voice rising above the celebratory din. “Bastard! You sent her off to die for your frakking vendetta!”
Lee caught her by the arm and pulled her back to him. “Kara, what is going on?”
“He sent Faith off on a suicide mission to assassinate Baltar,” she spat. “I tried to go back for her but… godsdamnit!” Her hands were clenched so tight at her sides that her knuckles were turning white.
Kara’d gone down to New Caprica, had gotten stuck there, all for Faith’s sake. He couldn’t blame her for her concern. Lee settled his hands on her shoulders. “Hey, just because she’s not on Galactica, doesn’t mean she didn’t get off on another ship. There are a lot of missing people, right now, but we’ll find her. Okay?”
She fixed her gaze on the floor, hands still trembling. She looked like she wanted to keep looking, keep fighting, but she swayed slightly where she stood.. “Come on,” he said softly but firmly. “Let’s get out of here.”
Sleeping arrangements were going to be a mess for a while, but he was still a commander and he knew that this particular senior officers’ quarters was unused-or had been unused at the time he’d left Galactica. His father could kick them out later if he wanted to, but Kara looked so relieved to be away from the crowd that it was the only thing he cared about. She’d been quiet ever since they left the hangar deck; he just assumed it was the stress.
The way she practically collapsed onto the rack, he found himself wondering if she’d got a single decent night sleep in the last four months. He stretched out alongside her, brushing a hand over her shoulder. She jumped, flinching away from his touch for a moment as her eyes shot open.
“Are you okay?” he asked, drawing his hand back.
She sighed and shook her head, settling back into the thin mattress. “Forget about it.”
Kara was asleep in a matter of minutes, but even now the troubled look she’d worn ever since she’d pulled back from him on the deck hadn’t quite faded away. Frowning, Lee eased himself out of the bed , draped a blanket over her, and quickly slipped from the room.
He grabbed the first phone he could and placed a call to Colonial One. If Faith had gone off to kill Baltar, it was the most likely ship for her to be aboard. When he got Roslin on the phone, she reported that it looked like there had been a struggle in the office, blood stains even, but no sign of Lieutenant Lehane.
---
Kat sat in the memorial hallway, staring down at the pair of dogtags in her hand, reading the inscription over and over. F. Lehane. Their last exchange kept running through her head on repeat.
You gotta feel something.
Not a damn thing.
They sure picked a hell of a callsign for you.
Her own voice, her own words felt like a steel-toed boot the gut. She was hurt, she was mourning, she’d lashed out-didn’t even bother to think that maybe shutting down was Faith’s way of dealing with whatever the frak was going on in her head. It didn’t matter now though; she was gone and Kat wasn’t going to get another chance to set things right.
Frak, she didn’t even have a photograph to stick up on the wall. This piece of metal was the last thing left of Slayer in the entire fleet and Kat wasn’t sure she was going to be able to bring herself to leave it here.
A pair of footsteps startled Kat out of her train of thought. She looked up to see Starbuck striding into the hallway, her arms folded across her chest as she cast a glance around the photo-covered walls before turning to Kat.
“Still nothing?” Kat asked as Starbuck took a seat beside her.
Her voice was hollow when she answered. “Last of the census results came in today.”
Kat’s breath shuddered as she let out a sigh.
“Gods,” Kara hissed, shaking her head. “She was such a frakking idiot.” Kat watched Kara’s fingers pulling at a tear in her sweatshirt. “Pain in my ass to the last, too; couldn’t even make sure we knew she was dead for two weeks.”
“You expected something clean and easy?” Kat raised an eyebrow at her. “I mean its Slayer we’re talking about. She couldn’t do something nice and neat if she tried to.”
“Did you see the way she flew?” Kara shook her head, a sad-sounding laugh tearing from her throat. “Playing chicken with the raiders. I’m surprised she didn’t get herself killed a long time ago.”
“She was too good for that,” Kat said, the admiration and a strange sense of vicarious pride she’d always felt watching Faith fly welling up inside her once again. “Better than you.”
Kara scoffed. “She wished. All she wanted was to one up someone, get in her kicks before she kicked the big one.”
“Yeah,” Kat nodded, a fond sigh escaping. Faith had always lived large, loud, it was hard to think that all of that was gone now. “But you gotta admit, having her around wasn’t bad.”
“I guess once you got past the stolen booze and the insubordination and the Pegasus Psycho parts of her, then yeah, not too bad.” Kara made a noise that started like a laugh and ended like a sob, before it faded away. The two of them sat in silence then, staring at the photographs that lined the walls.
Kat pushed herself to her feet, unhooking the clasp and slid one dogtag off the chain and into her pocket. She closed the chain once more and found a small protrusion in the wall to hang it from. She stood back, watching the light from a candle glinting off the metal surface. Kat let out a deep sigh. “So, that’s it then.”
“Yeah,” Kara said, her voice more open and sad than Kat had ever heard it. “Guess so.”
--To Be Continued--