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misscamBreak My Heart (And Hope to Die)
by Camilla Sandman
Summary: She never meant to break his heart. [Adama/Roslin, Boomer, Chief.]
Rating: Teen. Some adult activities, non-explicit.
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not my words.
Author's Note: Set during "Someone to Watch Over Me". Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lyricalviolet for beta – good luck with the snow!
II
She never meant to break his heart, Boomer thinks, the Chief's words still lingering in the air and Adama's hard gaze settling on her as he orders her taken to the brig. Nor his.
Sleeper Cylon, sleeper acts. She never meant to. For a long time, all she thought of was redemption and family and Galactica, and a life she could have had.
Sleeper with dreams. Dreams are human; she is not.
She's awake now.
II
Galactica, another day
II
Bill sleeps and Laura doesn't, her head against his shoulder and one of his arms around her. She should sleep, she knows. She needs her strength, and her body seem to sap a little bit of it every day as it is. She should; she can't.
It isn't nightmares. She can deal with those, their horror pale compared to what they've lived. It isn't visions. She thinks she might even welcome those again, regain some sense – any sense – of all this leading to something.
It is merely the strangest feeling that if she falls asleep, something terrible will happen.
In a sense, it already has. She slept and Zarek and Gaeta set up a mutiny that nearly killed Bill, Lee and countless others.
They lived that. They've lived so much. What more can there be?
Bill sighs a little and she watches the lines on his face; they never seem to fade anymore. He's told her about the cracks in Galactica and she thinks she can almost see them on his face, like a faint echo.
Everything echoes and her hand shakes a little as she lifts it to rest on his chest, just above his heart.
Laura doesn't sleep and Bill doesn't either anymore, she discovers, his eyes clear as he opens them to meet her gaze.
II
He isn't going to see her, Chief thinks; he isn't, not when just thinking about it can keep him from sleep and all it can bring is bitter irony for how it all turned out.
II
Laura closes her eyes and Bill doesn't, watching her breathe unsteadily through parted lips and a few strands of hair cling to her flushed skin. Her wig, but he doesn't really see it.
He doesn't have to close his eyes to see what she still is underneath the traces of cancer, and eyes open he can still dream.
That Zak was a better pilot or had never fallen in love. That Boomer was never a Cylon. That Saul Tigh was just another human who lost his hair. That Lee wasn't the son he failed and lived to feel it. That Earth wasn't a wasteland. That Kara hadn't died to live again. That Gaeta never dishonoured his oath. That Galactica never had any cracks and held on longer than him.
That Laura had no cancer, and every time he slept with her wasn't in danger of being the last.
He is careful, so careful as he feels her thigh against his hip, her own movements slow and laboured. He lets it be her pace, because it's her body that is breaking them both a little.
He hates it a little for it, but he still touches her skin tenderly and watches her take what pleasures it can still give. He still kisses the pulse in her wrist; her heartbeats are the only thing between him and losing his own.
II
She isn't going to feel like she's home, Boomer thinks; she isn't, after all, and what she felt a long time ago was a different heart ago.
II
"Lee will be over with the Cylon representative. Chief will give an update on the repairs," Bill says, handing her a cup of coffee. She accepts it more for the warmth of it against her fingers than any real desire for ground algae for breakfast.
She shouldn't feel this cold, she is pretty sure.
"You've been watching the repairs yourself," she says, choosing her words carefully. "How does it look?"
"I don't know," he says, every word too sharp, a jagged edge. "I'm not a Cylon."
Galactica is breaking Bill's heart crack by crack, Laura thinks, and still he loves.
She wishes she didn't love him so much for it.
II
They're going to kill her, Chief thinks; he didn't realise how much she could still break his heart until he heard himself say the words.
II
"They're going to kill her," Laura says thoughtfully, and Bill nods – he is listening, but he is watching just as much. Her hands are shaking again, and he can no more look away than he could stop watching Cylons working on his Galactica.
"They may," he says non-committally, thinking of Baltar's trial and his own vote.
She shoots a glance at him that manages to be fond and a little disparaging at the same time. He can't help but smile a little, rising from his own chair to walk over to her.
"Would you?" she asks softly, rising a little unsteadily, but her hand is very still when she takes his.
"I don't know," he lies, and he half expects her to call him on it. But she merely smiles and kisses him, lips gentle and a little dry.
"I do," she says, steel in her voice for all the softness. "That's why they get to try her."
II
She is going to use him, Boomer thinks; she didn't realise how much she doesn't want to until she tells him truths with lies.
II
"He loved her," Bill says, and Laura nods a little absentmindedly, trying to gather her thoughts. She should have slept, she's beginning to feel a killer fatigue all the way to her bones.
"Does he still?"
"It's hard to let go of."
"Mmm." She exales. "Maybe he has to say goodbye."
"Maybe," Bill says, and she looks up fast enough to catch a glimpse of the expression crossing his face.
Oh. Oh.
He stands still as she rises, walking around the desk to come close to him. She tries to find the words, but they seem to catch in her throat and they're all so insignificant and just words anyway. She can only lean her forehead against his, his hands coming to rest against her neck.
She never meant to break his heart, she thinks. She just joined hers with his, and now they don't come apart easily again. It only goes with a break.
"I have to be in CIC," he says, and she nods as he kisses her forehead. "I'll see you tonight."
He doesn't look at her as he steps away, and she watches his back for just a moment before something seems to rise in her and flood over.
"Bill?"
He turns, and she grabs hold of his face, kissing him fiercely until she's breathless and she can't tell anymore if the ache in her chest is from lack of oxygen or lack of time.
"I'll see you soon," she says. "Until then..."
"Goodbye," he says, his voice peculiarly still.
"Goodbye," she agrees, but neither lets go for a long time.
II
He is going to make her live, Chief thinks; he is, for all he can't go with her, not watching her die this time will mend something he's felt broken in him a long time.
II
Boomer, Bill thinks, and feels her damage his ship as she once did him.
Boomer, who felt almost like a daughter and it nearly killed him. Athena, who felt like Boomer for a long time until she didn't. Hera, who is Athena's and whom Boomer has now taken.
Boomer. She can still tear holes in you, and he doesn't think any less so when he's informed President Laura Roslin has collapsed in his quarters.
II
She never meant to break his heart, Boomer thinks, the Chief's words still lingering in her head. Not then. Not again. For a long time, all she thought of was redemption and family and Galactica, and a life she could have had.
It broke her heart too much. It killed too much.
For a long time. It changed.
Cylon on a mission, mission completed. Hera taken. Her methods – using the Chief, sleeping with Helo – is means to an end. She must think like that, she will think like that.
Hearts are human; she is not.
She's alive now.
II
FIN
by Camilla Sandman
Summary: She never meant to break his heart. [Adama/Roslin, Boomer, Chief.]
Rating: Teen. Some adult activities, non-explicit.
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not my words.
Author's Note: Set during "Someone to Watch Over Me". Many thanks to
lyricalviolet for beta – good luck with the snow!II
She never meant to break his heart, Boomer thinks, the Chief's words still lingering in the air and Adama's hard gaze settling on her as he orders her taken to the brig. Nor his.
Sleeper Cylon, sleeper acts. She never meant to. For a long time, all she thought of was redemption and family and Galactica, and a life she could have had.
Sleeper with dreams. Dreams are human; she is not.
She's awake now.
II
Galactica, another day
II
Bill sleeps and Laura doesn't, her head against his shoulder and one of his arms around her. She should sleep, she knows. She needs her strength, and her body seem to sap a little bit of it every day as it is. She should; she can't.
It isn't nightmares. She can deal with those, their horror pale compared to what they've lived. It isn't visions. She thinks she might even welcome those again, regain some sense – any sense – of all this leading to something.
It is merely the strangest feeling that if she falls asleep, something terrible will happen.
In a sense, it already has. She slept and Zarek and Gaeta set up a mutiny that nearly killed Bill, Lee and countless others.
They lived that. They've lived so much. What more can there be?
Bill sighs a little and she watches the lines on his face; they never seem to fade anymore. He's told her about the cracks in Galactica and she thinks she can almost see them on his face, like a faint echo.
Everything echoes and her hand shakes a little as she lifts it to rest on his chest, just above his heart.
Laura doesn't sleep and Bill doesn't either anymore, she discovers, his eyes clear as he opens them to meet her gaze.
II
He isn't going to see her, Chief thinks; he isn't, not when just thinking about it can keep him from sleep and all it can bring is bitter irony for how it all turned out.
II
Laura closes her eyes and Bill doesn't, watching her breathe unsteadily through parted lips and a few strands of hair cling to her flushed skin. Her wig, but he doesn't really see it.
He doesn't have to close his eyes to see what she still is underneath the traces of cancer, and eyes open he can still dream.
That Zak was a better pilot or had never fallen in love. That Boomer was never a Cylon. That Saul Tigh was just another human who lost his hair. That Lee wasn't the son he failed and lived to feel it. That Earth wasn't a wasteland. That Kara hadn't died to live again. That Gaeta never dishonoured his oath. That Galactica never had any cracks and held on longer than him.
That Laura had no cancer, and every time he slept with her wasn't in danger of being the last.
He is careful, so careful as he feels her thigh against his hip, her own movements slow and laboured. He lets it be her pace, because it's her body that is breaking them both a little.
He hates it a little for it, but he still touches her skin tenderly and watches her take what pleasures it can still give. He still kisses the pulse in her wrist; her heartbeats are the only thing between him and losing his own.
II
She isn't going to feel like she's home, Boomer thinks; she isn't, after all, and what she felt a long time ago was a different heart ago.
II
"Lee will be over with the Cylon representative. Chief will give an update on the repairs," Bill says, handing her a cup of coffee. She accepts it more for the warmth of it against her fingers than any real desire for ground algae for breakfast.
She shouldn't feel this cold, she is pretty sure.
"You've been watching the repairs yourself," she says, choosing her words carefully. "How does it look?"
"I don't know," he says, every word too sharp, a jagged edge. "I'm not a Cylon."
Galactica is breaking Bill's heart crack by crack, Laura thinks, and still he loves.
She wishes she didn't love him so much for it.
II
They're going to kill her, Chief thinks; he didn't realise how much she could still break his heart until he heard himself say the words.
II
"They're going to kill her," Laura says thoughtfully, and Bill nods – he is listening, but he is watching just as much. Her hands are shaking again, and he can no more look away than he could stop watching Cylons working on his Galactica.
"They may," he says non-committally, thinking of Baltar's trial and his own vote.
She shoots a glance at him that manages to be fond and a little disparaging at the same time. He can't help but smile a little, rising from his own chair to walk over to her.
"Would you?" she asks softly, rising a little unsteadily, but her hand is very still when she takes his.
"I don't know," he lies, and he half expects her to call him on it. But she merely smiles and kisses him, lips gentle and a little dry.
"I do," she says, steel in her voice for all the softness. "That's why they get to try her."
II
She is going to use him, Boomer thinks; she didn't realise how much she doesn't want to until she tells him truths with lies.
II
"He loved her," Bill says, and Laura nods a little absentmindedly, trying to gather her thoughts. She should have slept, she's beginning to feel a killer fatigue all the way to her bones.
"Does he still?"
"It's hard to let go of."
"Mmm." She exales. "Maybe he has to say goodbye."
"Maybe," Bill says, and she looks up fast enough to catch a glimpse of the expression crossing his face.
Oh. Oh.
He stands still as she rises, walking around the desk to come close to him. She tries to find the words, but they seem to catch in her throat and they're all so insignificant and just words anyway. She can only lean her forehead against his, his hands coming to rest against her neck.
She never meant to break his heart, she thinks. She just joined hers with his, and now they don't come apart easily again. It only goes with a break.
"I have to be in CIC," he says, and she nods as he kisses her forehead. "I'll see you tonight."
He doesn't look at her as he steps away, and she watches his back for just a moment before something seems to rise in her and flood over.
"Bill?"
He turns, and she grabs hold of his face, kissing him fiercely until she's breathless and she can't tell anymore if the ache in her chest is from lack of oxygen or lack of time.
"I'll see you soon," she says. "Until then..."
"Goodbye," he says, his voice peculiarly still.
"Goodbye," she agrees, but neither lets go for a long time.
II
He is going to make her live, Chief thinks; he is, for all he can't go with her, not watching her die this time will mend something he's felt broken in him a long time.
II
Boomer, Bill thinks, and feels her damage his ship as she once did him.
Boomer, who felt almost like a daughter and it nearly killed him. Athena, who felt like Boomer for a long time until she didn't. Hera, who is Athena's and whom Boomer has now taken.
Boomer. She can still tear holes in you, and he doesn't think any less so when he's informed President Laura Roslin has collapsed in his quarters.
II
She never meant to break his heart, Boomer thinks, the Chief's words still lingering in her head. Not then. Not again. For a long time, all she thought of was redemption and family and Galactica, and a life she could have had.
It broke her heart too much. It killed too much.
For a long time. It changed.
Cylon on a mission, mission completed. Hera taken. Her methods – using the Chief, sleeping with Helo – is means to an end. She must think like that, she will think like that.
Hearts are human; she is not.
She's alive now.
II
FIN
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 03:28 pm (UTC)Ouch.
This was very powerful. Your Boomer got to me in particular.
And Mummy and Daddy got to say their goodbyes. Aaaw.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 03:29 pm (UTC)Your work and words as always, truely beautiful.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 03:31 pm (UTC)ILY ♥.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 03:32 pm (UTC)Yeah, I was sitting down to write Athena and Helo for you and Boomer came out instead. Er. Sorry about that. But glad you liked anyway :)
no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 03:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 03:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 03:36 pm (UTC)Have fun at school - I have a blessed day off work and am enjoying it greatly. (Hence my time to write fic, too.)
no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 03:40 pm (UTC)I'm not complaining. :P I liked this one very much. You do Cylons (or any sort of 'other' perspective - e.g. Time Lords) extremely well and I'm a sucker for that.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 03:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 03:48 pm (UTC):) I think the key sometimes is to not make it too different most of the time and thus make those differences you do highlight stand out more. I think most people have some experiences with feeling like you're observing something rather than understanding, so it's not so hard to identify with.
I know I felt like an 'other' every now and then as a Norwegian in Australia. Certain things were just alien to me.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 03:58 pm (UTC)This is a wonderful if heartbreaking reflection of (as well as addition to) Someone To Watch Over Me. Another keeper, at that.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 04:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 04:13 pm (UTC)Very good, and heartbreaking. I really love the symmetry between the two pairings. Both men are getting their hearts broken, just for different reasons.
Boomer. She can still tear holes in you,
I loved this line, loved it. Boomer really does frak things up, with or without her knowing of it.
Thanks for this. Really, it was a joy (and heartbreaking) to read.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 04:13 pm (UTC)Very flattered you liked it this much :)
no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 04:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 04:19 pm (UTC)And yeah, Boomer sure manages to leave chaos this time around too. Knack for it, it seems.
Anyway, thank you - very pleased you liked it as much and it rang true for you.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 04:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 04:46 pm (UTC)And I love the way you kept transitioning between Laura and Bill, and Boomer and Chief. Very nicely done!
no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 04:48 pm (UTC)Thanks for sharing
Gator
no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 05:04 pm (UTC)A lot of what I wrote inbetween Voy and now would show it more a gradual change in how I write, I think. After I came home from Australia with a journalism degree, I did feel differently about writing in general. Maybe that's where it changed. Maybe it's just me who did.
I ramble too much. But yeah, I can see how it looks like two completely different things, because I remember me at 19 and she feels so very different to me now.
no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 05:05 pm (UTC)Thank you :)
no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 05:07 pm (UTC)Thank you very much :)
no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 05:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 05:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-02 05:32 pm (UTC)I'd be surprised if she didn't. Ten years is a long time to grow and change, to actually live. I'm also a vastly different person from the girl who used to read your VOY fanfic back in 1998/1999. Seems a lifetime ago now.
My point is -- if I even have one per se -- that your style is rather distinct now; it didn't used to be. I consider this a very good thing indeed.
Apparently I can ramble with the best of them, but I'll be shuttin' up now. :)