the sinews of thy heart
Title: the sinews of thy heart
Date posted: 06-26-10
Fandom: BSG
Disclaimer: These characters definitely don't belong to me, but instead RDM.
Spoilers: Midway through season 4.5
Notes: I can't really figure out where this came from- it's Ellen and Caprica in sickbay after Deadlock.
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?
- The Tyger, William Blake
On the first day after, Caprica knows that Ellen is lurking in the doorway to sickbay, with eyes like the agony that Caprica feels when she feels anything at all. She doesn't want Ellen anywhere near her, and as of yet, she hasn't ventured too close, just watched from a distance, staring beseechingly as though she wants to be asked to help.
Caprica wishes Doc Cottle were here, he would understand her whispers to make Ellen leave. But he's in surgery today, so it's Ishay's room, up to her elbows in stitches and incurable illnesses and the odd infection. Her motley crew of medics are too frightened of the XO's dead wife, who is a ghost and Cylon both, and Ishay won't admit it but she's wary herself. She's sensible and calm as she makes her rounds, and Caprica doesn't have it in her to ask for help. Instead, Ellen stays, and watches, and there is no one else.
-
On the second day, Caprica wakes from her third nap this morning to find Ellen at her bedside. "I remember it all," she says softly, her hand hovering near Caprica's hair, ringleted and blonde and inherited, "When we created you."
Caprica can only stare in horror.
"We had perfected our technique by then, and you- you were a crowning glory," Ellen continues, the pride of creation seeping through. She lowers her hand so that it ruffles the limp curls Caprica hasn't tended to in days, before pressing the palm to Caprica's pale cheek, gaunt and sticky with tears she's given up on controlling. Her hormones are out of control, Cottle had said brusquely. She'll be alright soon.
She wants to ask Ellen to leave, the second fiercest feeling she's had yet after anguish. Not even ask- she wants to beg. She wants to beg Ellen to leave her alone and not return. She wants to beg Ellen to give Saul back to her, though she knows she shouldn't want any man who doesn't want her. She's known that many times before. Saul's in CIC now, and he didn't come to see her last night or this morning, the same as he won't come this evening.
"We love you, sweetheart," Ellen is saying. While Caprica's eyes are curiously dry- red-rimmed and bloodshot, but dry- Ellen's shine wetly, so brilliant they're almost pretty. Caprica wants a mother almost as badly as she wanted to be one.
"Please go," she manages, her voice so hoarse she hardly recognizes it. She doesn't relish being cruel, but her heart and soul feel empty enough without Ellen's words rattling through them. She closes her eyes so that Ellen can't argue, and after a moment she hears the click of high heels as Ellen walks out of sickbay, regal and victorious.
Caprica's crying again. She really has no control over these things.
-
The third day, Ellen comes while Caprica is washing up, facing the wall resolutely. She had let her mind go as empty as the rest of her. She's surprised to hear the curtain open- most medics avoid seeing any part of her beyond her face and hands, surely envisioning metal boxes with switches and flashing lights- but it's Ellen, looking determined.
Caprica turns her face back to the wall, running the cloth over her left arm again. She's been putting off moving on to her torso for the past five minutes: her abdomen is still traitorously empty as her breasts still ache. She feels light-headed standing so long.
Ellen stands there, so long and silent that Caprica gathers the courage to start at her neck, a personal triumph. She's proud she's still standing, still moving, even with Ellen behind her and everything that has happened, that she gets lost in the near-forgotten sensation of feeling of something positive, and doesn't hear Ellen moving until she's at her back.
She stays blessedly quiet as she takes the washcloth from Caprica's fingers. Caprica wonders if all children feel so small and boneless around their parents or if it's just something humans feel when they've lost everything.
The basin has tepid water with hardly any soap, but it's better than nothing. It seems warmer when it's Ellen running the cloth over her back gently, lovingly. In spite of herself, it's the first time Caprica has felt soothed since before she left her sisters the first time, when she had luxuriated in the warmth of familial ties that were stronger than any bond she had ever known. She's been touched since with lust and anger and curiosity, but not with compassion.
Ellen stops moving when Caprica's shoulders start to shake with sobs, small at first and then gasping, harsh and wretched. This woman, this thief and mother and stranger, is the last person Caprica wants to cry in front of, and the only. She pulls Caprica back to her, arms tight around the no man's land between breasts and hips, her tears dropping on her shoulder. Ellen hurts because her child is hurting, Caprica realizes, and she misses her son all the more.
Date posted: 06-26-10
Fandom: BSG
Disclaimer: These characters definitely don't belong to me, but instead RDM.
Spoilers: Midway through season 4.5
Notes: I can't really figure out where this came from- it's Ellen and Caprica in sickbay after Deadlock.
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?
- The Tyger, William Blake
On the first day after, Caprica knows that Ellen is lurking in the doorway to sickbay, with eyes like the agony that Caprica feels when she feels anything at all. She doesn't want Ellen anywhere near her, and as of yet, she hasn't ventured too close, just watched from a distance, staring beseechingly as though she wants to be asked to help.
Caprica wishes Doc Cottle were here, he would understand her whispers to make Ellen leave. But he's in surgery today, so it's Ishay's room, up to her elbows in stitches and incurable illnesses and the odd infection. Her motley crew of medics are too frightened of the XO's dead wife, who is a ghost and Cylon both, and Ishay won't admit it but she's wary herself. She's sensible and calm as she makes her rounds, and Caprica doesn't have it in her to ask for help. Instead, Ellen stays, and watches, and there is no one else.
-
On the second day, Caprica wakes from her third nap this morning to find Ellen at her bedside. "I remember it all," she says softly, her hand hovering near Caprica's hair, ringleted and blonde and inherited, "When we created you."
Caprica can only stare in horror.
"We had perfected our technique by then, and you- you were a crowning glory," Ellen continues, the pride of creation seeping through. She lowers her hand so that it ruffles the limp curls Caprica hasn't tended to in days, before pressing the palm to Caprica's pale cheek, gaunt and sticky with tears she's given up on controlling. Her hormones are out of control, Cottle had said brusquely. She'll be alright soon.
She wants to ask Ellen to leave, the second fiercest feeling she's had yet after anguish. Not even ask- she wants to beg. She wants to beg Ellen to leave her alone and not return. She wants to beg Ellen to give Saul back to her, though she knows she shouldn't want any man who doesn't want her. She's known that many times before. Saul's in CIC now, and he didn't come to see her last night or this morning, the same as he won't come this evening.
"We love you, sweetheart," Ellen is saying. While Caprica's eyes are curiously dry- red-rimmed and bloodshot, but dry- Ellen's shine wetly, so brilliant they're almost pretty. Caprica wants a mother almost as badly as she wanted to be one.
"Please go," she manages, her voice so hoarse she hardly recognizes it. She doesn't relish being cruel, but her heart and soul feel empty enough without Ellen's words rattling through them. She closes her eyes so that Ellen can't argue, and after a moment she hears the click of high heels as Ellen walks out of sickbay, regal and victorious.
Caprica's crying again. She really has no control over these things.
-
The third day, Ellen comes while Caprica is washing up, facing the wall resolutely. She had let her mind go as empty as the rest of her. She's surprised to hear the curtain open- most medics avoid seeing any part of her beyond her face and hands, surely envisioning metal boxes with switches and flashing lights- but it's Ellen, looking determined.
Caprica turns her face back to the wall, running the cloth over her left arm again. She's been putting off moving on to her torso for the past five minutes: her abdomen is still traitorously empty as her breasts still ache. She feels light-headed standing so long.
Ellen stands there, so long and silent that Caprica gathers the courage to start at her neck, a personal triumph. She's proud she's still standing, still moving, even with Ellen behind her and everything that has happened, that she gets lost in the near-forgotten sensation of feeling of something positive, and doesn't hear Ellen moving until she's at her back.
She stays blessedly quiet as she takes the washcloth from Caprica's fingers. Caprica wonders if all children feel so small and boneless around their parents or if it's just something humans feel when they've lost everything.
The basin has tepid water with hardly any soap, but it's better than nothing. It seems warmer when it's Ellen running the cloth over her back gently, lovingly. In spite of herself, it's the first time Caprica has felt soothed since before she left her sisters the first time, when she had luxuriated in the warmth of familial ties that were stronger than any bond she had ever known. She's been touched since with lust and anger and curiosity, but not with compassion.
Ellen stops moving when Caprica's shoulders start to shake with sobs, small at first and then gasping, harsh and wretched. This woman, this thief and mother and stranger, is the last person Caprica wants to cry in front of, and the only. She pulls Caprica back to her, arms tight around the no man's land between breasts and hips, her tears dropping on her shoulder. Ellen hurts because her child is hurting, Caprica realizes, and she misses her son all the more.