They Shoot Cylons, Don't They? (The Forgiveness & Stuff Remix), by amathela
Title: They Shoot Cylons, Don't They? (The Forgiveness & Stuff Remix)
Author: amathela
Summary: He doesn't expect to see one of the toasters helping them, and he doesn't recognise her; he learned to block out her face, the particular way she smiled, long ago.
Spoilers up to episode 2:20 - Lay Down Your Burdens (Part Two); slightly AU for season three.
Characters: Lee, Boomer
Rating: PG-13
Title, Author and URL of original story: Forgiveness by sabaceanbabe
"Not a very good shot, am I?"
You're not real, and it echoes through his mind, through the empty cell. She's not here, is what he means; what he thinks, to rid himself of the vision of her.
The other thing is true, too.
-
He presses his hands to his father's chest to staunch the flow of blood; his gun to her cheek, blood rushing in his ears.
(Her gun to her own cheek; there's no scar, any more.)
He doesn't care to understand the difference.
-
The first time he meets her -
(It was an honour to fly with you, Apollo.)
She could be anyone. Any girl. Any person.
(The feeling is mutual.)
And his father loves her.
(Hope our paths meet up again someday.)
-
On the ground, it's all confusion. It's been too long since the fleet was here, too long since the cylons came and -
Well, they're here now. It's not enough, but it's all they have.
He doesn't expect to see one of the toasters helping them, and he doesn't recognise her; he learned to block out her face, the particular way she smiled, long ago. It doesn't occur to him to be jealous of the person - man or machine, he can't be sure which - who grazes her side with the bullet, who puts her down before he can get a second look.
Or to help her. Never that.
And then there's screaming, so loud he's sure he'll hear it in his dreams, dust and panic and nothing at all, nothing but trying to get as many people as possible, as many of their people, to safety. And he doesn't have to think about her.
It's only later - when it's all over, or near enough - that he remembers.
-
"I could have killed him," she says, "if I wanted to."
He knows it isn't her, but it looks like her, feels like her, and he isn't sure what the difference is. She was never really real to begin with, and if he's imagining her now -
Maybe he always was.
-
She collects survivors, ships with FTL capabilities, and saves close to 50,000 souls. Brings back eight people - nine, if you count Dr Baltar, if you don't count the ECO who stayed behind - from Caprica after the bombs go off. Destroys a basestar. Finds Tylium. Finds water -
(Blows up Galactica's water tank in the first place.)
She shoots his father twice in the stomach. Advances, unblinking, like she's nothing more than a machine, a frakking cylon. Fires until she can't.
(She's terrified when they fire on the Olympic Carrier, and he's the one who destroys it.)
He fires on the shooting range, and tells himself -
Nothing.
-
It strikes him, when he's in his cell, when he can't see his father, can't see her - this mess they're in together.
He never shot Tigh, he's not a cylon, he's not like her.
The way the XO looks at him, he might as well be.
-
Back on Pegasus, it's no less chaotic; people running to reunite with loved ones, carrying the injured to med bay, dazed and wandering, hair and clothes streaked with dirt and sweat and blood. Pilots coming in hot, those who made it back, and not all with refugees in tow. Kara, helping Anders from a raptor, her arms around him, her gaze intent. It's a mess, it's worse than a mess, and he wonders how twisted it is that this is their victory.
He wonders how many they lost. What Roslin's whiteboard would look like now, if it were still hers.
He doesn't wonder about the toaster helping them on the ground, not when she's standing there in front of him. She's not in uniform, not theirs or anyone else's, but he knows her anyway, would know her even without the recognition in her eyes and his name on her lips.
"Boomer." The minute it's out, he wishes it weren't. She lost the right to that name a long time ago, but -
He glances at her ship, the last of the refugees still climbing from it onto Pegasus' deck. Maybe she's trying to make up for it, now.
"I can forgive you," he says, when she asks for it, and he wonders how much of it is true.
-
(Sharon - the other Sharon - is a crack shot, but that Sharon isn't her, maybe. Boomer never stuck her landings, either.)
-
"Lee."
It's her, but it's not her, and it's been a long time.
You're not real, and it's exactly what he means.
"I'm real," she says, and the shrapnel rains down on them. It's going to be unsafe here soon; sooner, if he stands around talking to a figment of his imagination.
You're in my way. He thinks he says it out loud. The ringing in his ears makes it difficult to tell.
"I'll get out of your way," she says. "But you have to trust me."
To do what?
"To be on your side."
He doesn't trust her. He doesn't trust her, but he follows her. He blames the planet; nothing is right here, everything is twisted, and nobody got their new start.
Maybe he's so disoriented it doesn't matter.
Maybe, if he's imagining her, he's doing all this himself.
"Trust me," she says, and vanishes as a heavy raider sets down next to him.
Author: amathela
Summary: He doesn't expect to see one of the toasters helping them, and he doesn't recognise her; he learned to block out her face, the particular way she smiled, long ago.
Spoilers up to episode 2:20 - Lay Down Your Burdens (Part Two); slightly AU for season three.
Characters: Lee, Boomer
Rating: PG-13
Title, Author and URL of original story: Forgiveness by sabaceanbabe
"Not a very good shot, am I?"
You're not real, and it echoes through his mind, through the empty cell. She's not here, is what he means; what he thinks, to rid himself of the vision of her.
The other thing is true, too.
-
He presses his hands to his father's chest to staunch the flow of blood; his gun to her cheek, blood rushing in his ears.
(Her gun to her own cheek; there's no scar, any more.)
He doesn't care to understand the difference.
-
The first time he meets her -
(It was an honour to fly with you, Apollo.)
She could be anyone. Any girl. Any person.
(The feeling is mutual.)
And his father loves her.
(Hope our paths meet up again someday.)
-
On the ground, it's all confusion. It's been too long since the fleet was here, too long since the cylons came and -
Well, they're here now. It's not enough, but it's all they have.
He doesn't expect to see one of the toasters helping them, and he doesn't recognise her; he learned to block out her face, the particular way she smiled, long ago. It doesn't occur to him to be jealous of the person - man or machine, he can't be sure which - who grazes her side with the bullet, who puts her down before he can get a second look.
Or to help her. Never that.
And then there's screaming, so loud he's sure he'll hear it in his dreams, dust and panic and nothing at all, nothing but trying to get as many people as possible, as many of their people, to safety. And he doesn't have to think about her.
It's only later - when it's all over, or near enough - that he remembers.
-
"I could have killed him," she says, "if I wanted to."
He knows it isn't her, but it looks like her, feels like her, and he isn't sure what the difference is. She was never really real to begin with, and if he's imagining her now -
Maybe he always was.
-
She collects survivors, ships with FTL capabilities, and saves close to 50,000 souls. Brings back eight people - nine, if you count Dr Baltar, if you don't count the ECO who stayed behind - from Caprica after the bombs go off. Destroys a basestar. Finds Tylium. Finds water -
(Blows up Galactica's water tank in the first place.)
She shoots his father twice in the stomach. Advances, unblinking, like she's nothing more than a machine, a frakking cylon. Fires until she can't.
(She's terrified when they fire on the Olympic Carrier, and he's the one who destroys it.)
He fires on the shooting range, and tells himself -
Nothing.
-
It strikes him, when he's in his cell, when he can't see his father, can't see her - this mess they're in together.
He never shot Tigh, he's not a cylon, he's not like her.
The way the XO looks at him, he might as well be.
-
Back on Pegasus, it's no less chaotic; people running to reunite with loved ones, carrying the injured to med bay, dazed and wandering, hair and clothes streaked with dirt and sweat and blood. Pilots coming in hot, those who made it back, and not all with refugees in tow. Kara, helping Anders from a raptor, her arms around him, her gaze intent. It's a mess, it's worse than a mess, and he wonders how twisted it is that this is their victory.
He wonders how many they lost. What Roslin's whiteboard would look like now, if it were still hers.
He doesn't wonder about the toaster helping them on the ground, not when she's standing there in front of him. She's not in uniform, not theirs or anyone else's, but he knows her anyway, would know her even without the recognition in her eyes and his name on her lips.
"Boomer." The minute it's out, he wishes it weren't. She lost the right to that name a long time ago, but -
He glances at her ship, the last of the refugees still climbing from it onto Pegasus' deck. Maybe she's trying to make up for it, now.
"I can forgive you," he says, when she asks for it, and he wonders how much of it is true.
-
(Sharon - the other Sharon - is a crack shot, but that Sharon isn't her, maybe. Boomer never stuck her landings, either.)
-
"Lee."
It's her, but it's not her, and it's been a long time.
You're not real, and it's exactly what he means.
"I'm real," she says, and the shrapnel rains down on them. It's going to be unsafe here soon; sooner, if he stands around talking to a figment of his imagination.
You're in my way. He thinks he says it out loud. The ringing in his ears makes it difficult to tell.
"I'll get out of your way," she says. "But you have to trust me."
To do what?
"To be on your side."
He doesn't trust her. He doesn't trust her, but he follows her. He blames the planet; nothing is right here, everything is twisted, and nobody got their new start.
Maybe he's so disoriented it doesn't matter.
Maybe, if he's imagining her, he's doing all this himself.
"Trust me," she says, and vanishes as a heavy raider sets down next to him.