Two Roads Diverged : Chapter 6
Title: Two Roads Diverged (6/10)
Author: icedteainthebag
Word Count: 34,420
Rating: MA
Pairings: John Cavil/Ellen Tigh, Ellen Tigh/Saul Tigh, Laura Roslin/Bill Adama
Warnings: None
Summary: Sometimes we make mistakes when we think we're doing the right thing.
Notes: See Chapter One, but specific thanks on this chapter go to tjonesy and larsfarm77.
Artist: MrsDrJackson
Link to Art: banner can be found here.
x x x x
Dusk fell on New Caprica City, reminding Laura of how depressing it was to watch the slow succumbing of light to darkness.
She was trying to grade papers, convinced her pupils would never know she'd been drinking an ample cup of moonshine while she gave them their marks.
It had been a rough few days. She couldn't stop thinking about encountering Ellen at the market and the conversation they'd had. She'd gone to the market out of sheer will-she was tired of hiding and tired of catering to her fears. She didn't want to let the Cylons dictate her freedom anymore. There was no way they deserved that power over her. Despite her rationalizations, she'd been nervous as she picked up the vegetables she needed out of the few available.
Then she saw Ellen across the crowd. Saul's absence was really taking its toll on her-she could see it in her eyes and in the way she composed herself. She was hurting.
Of course she's hurting.
Laura wondered if people viewed her the same way. She hoped they didn't.
She tried to keep busy throughout the day to stave off thoughts of Bill. It was easier to ignore the feelings that would overcome her if she let her mind slip. Sometimes she missed him so much it ached. Other times she was angry at him. Angry that he hadn't fought hard enough, even though she knew-logically, she knew-that it would have been a losing battle against the force of the Cylons that had jumped into their safe haven's orbit so many months ago.
She took another long drink of the alcohol, feeling it burn her throat. She had no idea how Saul could down so much of it.
How he used to. No, how he could.
But the warmth it provided was nearly worth it.
Maybe that's how.
Laura was taking another drink when she heard someone outside her tent.
She twitched in her seat for a moment, thinking of the large stick she had inconveniently stored under her cot, when Ellen walked in unannounced.
Laura knew something was wrong because for the first time, Ellen wouldn't look into her eyes. Her hair was slightly wet, her face reddened.
"I've had to do some things," she began, before she seemed to run out of words.
Laura's stomach sank, and she stood up and watched Ellen shift on her feet.
Oh, Ellen, what did you do?
"Come in," Laura said, composing herself and retrieving a second cup from a wooden rack. "Sit down."
"Thanks," Ellen said with a soft sniffle. She wrapped her arm around her waist and took a seat at the table, watching as Laura poured alcohol into the cup, to the brim.
"That'll do for starters, huh?" Laura said to encourage her, settling down on her own chair. Ellen wrapped both hands around the cup and looked at it pensively, then took a sip and winced.
"Bill didn't leave you anything better?" Ellen asked before she took another, longer sip.
Laura gave her the best smile she could. "Sadly, no."
"Selfish bastard."
Wow. That stung.
"Sorry. I didn't mean it like that," Ellen apologized, noticing Laura's reaction.
Laura picked up her own cup, looking into it. "It's okay." She took a long drink, draining it. "Maybe he is sometimes."
She picked up the bottle and poured more for herself. She looked up at Ellen, raising her eyebrow. "You need more?"
Ellen downed her drink and set her cup on the table in front of her. "Now I do."
Laura poured Ellen a drink, then recorked the bottle, knowing it should probably be her last round.
Probably.
She drank and leaned back, glancing at Ellen before turning her attention to the tent flap that wavered with the breeze. She wanted to ask Ellen what had happened, but didn't know how to approach it. As much as she hated the idea, she wondered if Ellen had made some deal with the devil, some arrangement hastily agreed upon based on the fleeting notion of having her most prized possession returned to her.
She knew all too well about promises, about clinging to the idea that maybe, some way, what she did would bring her what she wanted the most.
"What are you thinking about?" Ellen asked.
"I was thinking about us. How we've been so adversarial in the past, yet here we are."
She doesn't need to know.
"Mmm, I know," Ellen said, taking a longer drink. "I thought you were a real bitch when I met you."
That's more like it.
Laura laughed. It felt good to do so. "I probably was. I know I was. I was going through a lot."
"How's that different from now?"
She has a point.
Laura thought about when she'd met Ellen-it was under the most suspicious of circumstances, when nobody was to be trusted. She'd lost her home, her life as she knew it, even Richard, and she'd been exchanging barbs and veiled threats with Bill at every turn. Ellen's emergence had caught her off guard, causing even more disruption in her already disrupted life.
"I don't know. Maybe it's not different, but my reaction to my situation is different now."
"How?"
Laura felt herself starting to tense up at Ellen's line of questioning, but she was also intrigued by how Ellen could be so flippantly pointed. She took a deep breath, contemplating the warmth of the alcohol coursing through her body.
The alcohol you keep ingesting at a slightly alarming rate.
"I've always been the kind of person to distance myself from others, to question everyone and everything. Always."
"I couldn't tell." Ellen snickered and tossed back the rest of her drink, her posture more relaxed. There was a hint of a smile on her face.
"I'm serious."
"I know you are."
Laura took a deep breath and examined Ellen.
It's okay to trust her. You've got no one else to trust down here.
"I've changed. I'm still figuring out how I've changed." Laura started tracing the edge of her cup with her finger, endless circles. She focused on the fluid motion as she tried to think of the right words to say. She never had a problem discussing business, but this was far from business, and she couldn't help but feel nervous.
She didn't look up at Ellen, but shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she felt Ellen watching her.
I wonder what she's thinking.
"Does this have anything to do with Bill?" Ellen's voice was tentative, yet Laura could tell that she knew the answer already.
Of course it does. It has a lot to do with him. She just wants me to admit it.
"It might."
She's going to see right through that one.
"Might," Ellen repeated. Laura looked up to see her smirk and tilt back in her chair. "Bill's a lot like you, you know. I'm sure you know that."
"Mmm, how?"
She asked, but she already knew. She wanted to hear what Ellen had to say. She'd been curious about Ellen's perspective on Bill since their conversation at the bar.
It seems like so long ago.
"Bill mans the lighthouse," Ellen said. "His job is to ensure the safety of everyone, to lead them through the storm, to help them avoid the rocks, but when it comes down to it, he's just a light in the dark, alone. He exists to serve his function. He rarely looks outside that." Ellen paused. "At least, that was the way he was, before he…"
Ellen faltered.
"Before he…" Laura pressed with a soft smile. Ellen tossed her hair and leaned over, her elbows on the tabletop. She dragged the bottle across the table and poured herself another cup, then drank from it, her expression contemplative.
"I don't know, Laura."
You can't backpedal now.
"Before I came along?" Laura suggested, her stomach fluttering at the suggestion.
"Hmm.” Ellen swirled the liquid around her cup, watching it lap at the edge. "He loves you, you know."
The words surprised Laura more than she'd expected. She laughed uncomfortably and looked away, her fingertips pressing against the tabletop.
You can't know that. I don't even know that yet.
Clearing her throat, Laura grabbed her cup and lifted it to Ellen, meeting her eyes with as genuine of a smile as she could manage. "Cheers. To temporary respite through alcohol."
Their cups clinked in the middle of the table.
"Cheers," Ellen repeated, tossing it back.
Laura drank what remained in her cup, having lost track of how much she'd actually consumed.
It burns going down.
x x x x
Ellen felt the silence that followed her revelation about Bill's feelings wasn't necessarily awkward, but it wasn't comfortable either. The reality that neither of them really knew each other well was becoming obvious.
She'd thrown it out there-the "L" word-because she knew it would make Laura uncomfortable, but at the same time, curious. It took a lot to break down the walls the ex-President had constructed. Ellen knew the ability to keep her guard up was something Laura had refined to perfection. She'd practically made indifference an art form. She was that type of woman.
Her head slightly fuzzy, Ellen found a welcome relief in the calm satisfaction that radiated through her body. She watched Laura as she placed her cup upon the table in front of them with a little too much bravado.
"So," Laura said. "How did the Tighs come to be?"
Give and take. I'm onto your game.
"I can hardly remember, it was so long ago," Ellen mused. "This could be a figment of my imagination based on a lot of experiences, but I do believe we met in a bar."
It was true. She was an honest drunk. Laura had to know that already. It felt good to think about something different for once, something that made her happy.
"That's surprising." Laura's sarcasm, usually biting and rarely good-humored toward her, now seemed to be nothing but a tease. They shared a grin.
"We met back in college." She remembered Saul was still in the detention center, experiencing gods knew what by the hand of gods knew whom, and felt awash with guilt.
While you're sitting here relaxing, drinking, shooting the shit. What the hell are you doing?
"College was a long time ago," Laura said, reeling Ellen back to the conversation.
"We were in love." She shifted in her seat, more uncomfortable by the second. "It was crazy, our attraction. I'd never felt anything like it. I still haven't. Which is good, I guess, since I'm still married to the frakker."
If he's alive.
Of course he's alive. Stop it.
Ellen took a shaky breath. "Even though sometimes I think he's married to the Fleet."
Turn the focus back on her.
Laura bit her lip, drawing it between her teeth. "That never changes, does it?"
Her voice was uncertain, like she knew the truth but didn't really want to hear it.
"I told you it doesn't," Ellen said, shrugging. "Doesn't matter how long you're together. There's always a part of them that doesn't belong to you."
Laura looked away then. Her voice was soft when she continued. "I can't imagine loving someone for that long."
Me either, sometimes.
"We've had our ups and downs."
Like a frakkin' roller coaster.
"Everybody does," Laura said. "It's the ups that make the downs worthwhile."
"If that's so, then I'm expecting one hell of an up after all this." Ellen closed her eyes and took a deep breath to try and calm her nerves. "If Saul comes back."
If I can get him back.
She felt the sudden urge to get up, to go back to the detention center and demand from that motherfrakker Cavil that her husband be released. She'd paid her dues many times over. There had to be a point where she'd given up enough.
"He will," Laura said firmly. "And so will Bill."
I wish I were so sure.
x x x x
Laura watched Ellen's expression change when she mentioned Saul. It was a little determined, a little desperate.
She'd go find him now if she could.
"I can't..." Ellen began, fiddling with a button on her coat. "I can't do this. I have to...I'm sorry, I have to go now."
Ellen stood up, her legs a bit wobbly after the drinks they'd downed. Laura followed suit, her fingers tracing the table to steady herself. She blushed at how unstable she was. It was unusual for her to get to this point, but New Caprica had led her to believe that sometimes, she needed to get frakked up.
This is one of those times.
She walked around the table to where Ellen hesitantly stood. Ellen wouldn't meet her eyes and Laura's heart ached at the idea of where exactly she thought she had to go, or what she had to do.
What have you been sacrificing for him?
Laura stepped closer and pulled her into an embrace. It was unexpected and impetuous, and Ellen stiffened up before hugging her back, her arms slipping around Laura's neck and pulling her tight.
It's not just the cold that's making her shake.
She buried her face in Ellen's hair, because that in itself was comforting-the feeling of her hair brushing her cheeks, the scent of ashy soap that was now so familiar.
She felt Ellen's breath on her neck and held her more tightly.
"I want him back so badly," Ellen whispered.
Laura felt a burn behind her eyelids, the threat of tears immediate. "I know."
They were silent for long moments, their breathing evening out.
The sound of Gaeta's voice over the loudspeaker-Felix Gaeta, even the thought of that traitor made her angry-indicated that curfew was to begin in five minutes. It repeated, a short, succinct statement that Laura had memorized by the fourth time she heard it, though she tried not to think too hard about the key phrase-"severe penalties will be imposed."
How he could say these things to his own people was beyond her. It was horrifying.
But it was routine, and this announcement would be followed in three minutes by a warning siren. It always grated on her nerves, no matter how many times she heard it.
"Shit," Ellen groaned, sniffling and pulling her head away from Laura's shoulder. "I gotta go. I gotta get back."
Back where?
"Do you have enough time to make it home?" Laura asked. She stepped away from Ellen, steadying herself with a firm grip on the table. She watched as Ellen glanced at the front of the tent.
"If I run," Ellen admitted. "Or...stumble. Quickly."
Laura bit her lip, her stomach churning. The last thing she wanted was for Ellen to get thrown into detention. And she wasn't sold on the idea that Ellen was going home at all.
The distant siren began then and Laura shuddered at the sound. It was a horrible wail, an ominous reminder of their condition.
She won't be safe if she leaves now.
Ellen made a move to leave. Laura opened her mouth and took a deep breath.
"I used to frak President Adar."
Ellen looked over her shoulder and Laura felt a deep blush spread across her cheeks. This divulgence of details was a move of desperation on her part. She knew Ellen wouldn't be able to resist the carrot dangling in front of her.
She felt queasy, suddenly too exposed.
Just frakkin' relax.
Ellen turned to her, her tone uncertain. "Why are you telling me this?"
Because sometimes we make mistakes when we think we're doing the right thing.
"I've never told anyone."
"Why are you telling me?"
Come on, come on, she's so close.
"Because I trust you," Laura said.
Ellen glanced back at the tent flaps, her shoulders slumped slightly forward. "It's curfew."
"It's not safe."
Laura walked back to her chair and sat down. She leaned her elbows on the table and pressed her lips against her clasped hands, watching Ellen shift on her feet.
"I frakked him for a decade," she said. "Probably more, off and on. I don't quite remember how long it was. It started with his mayoral campaign."
Just saying the words brought a rush of emotion back to Laura that she hadn't let herself feel in a long time. She'd never dealt with losing Richard, she knew that. She pushed it back and moved on, like she always did. She didn't think about him, didn't want to think about him.
Offering up the discussion to Ellen opened a wound she knew she had never let heal.
But it's how I'll keep her here.
x x x x
Laura's confession had blindsided Ellen and at first, she found herself wary of it.
Then again, as she walked up to the table and sat down across from Laura, she couldn't come up with a single reason why Laura would lie to her about something like that. If she didn't want her to leave she could have just said so. But she offered up Adar for a reason.
We may have more in common than I thought.
She leaned in over the table and examined Laura's expression. Laura had reverted to her more formal persona, the frivolity provided by the alcohol at least temporarily suspended. And she looked downright morose, like maybe she missed him more than she'd let on.
Well frak, now her attraction to Bill is making a lot more sense.
"So, Richard Adar. Wasn't he-"
"Yes. He was married."
Oh, my. Aren't we a little deep in the mire?
"Quite the sin," Ellen said. "So, how was he in bed?"
"I stuck around for a while, didn't I?"
"Maybe it was his personality."
Laura's smile was slight. Ellen didn't know what to think. Whenever she'd seen Richard Adar on the television he'd looked like he had the personality of a hunk of granite.
"At the beginning it was his personality," Laura said before straightening in her chair. Ellen watched her and could see her thinking. "Gods, he was so full of brilliance at the beginning. Idealism, optimism and a sound head on his shoulders. All those traits good politicians have. Good politicians keep them. Bad politicians lose them along the way."
"Was he a bad one?"
Laura folded her arms across her chest, her eyes on the table.
Don't close up now.
"He turned out to be. It was over for us anyway. It ended the day I left for Galactica."
"What a breakup. You really shouldn't tell many people that you had a fight with your boyfriend before he died in a nuclear holocaust."
Laura wordlessly stared at her cup, her jaw set. Ellen heard her take a deep breath.
He really meant something to her.
Ellen wondered if it was the only way Laura could say such things-by pretending the other person wasn't sitting right in front of her. "There was a time I'd do anything for him," Laura said quietly.
Ellen's brow furrowed. She didn't know why she felt so upset by Laura's statement. "You don't say those things unless you mean them."
Laura looked up. Ellen didn't mean for her voice to sound so sharp. She bit her cheek in embarrassment.
Isolate the one person reaching out to you. Good one.
Ellen ran her fingers through her hair and tightened her coat around her body. It was cooling down quickly and Ellen realized she was severely underdressed, still wearing her dress from earlier. At least the alcohol was keeping her warm. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"What's happening to you, Ellen?"
Laura sounded like part of her was bracing for the answer.
Oh, gods, I'm not ready to go there with you.
"I just need him back," Ellen said. She knew she was repeating herself. It was the same thing that swirled in her head every waking hour, the same thing that kept her going back to that detention center every frakking day.
"I know."
"No, you don't know," Ellen said, suddenly livid. She gripped the table and felt a tear slip down her cheek. "You don't know, Laura. You don't know what it's like, you haven't given anything up, you're just sitting here waiting for Bill to come back. Waiting. I can't wait." She repressed the sob that ached to be released from her chest. "I can't wait."
x x x x
Laura tried not to cry at the anguish she heard in Ellen's voice-it both pained her and frightened her. She kept her eyes on the woman in front of her, her throat constricted.
"If you sacrifice yourself for him," Laura began. She had to stop and close her eyes for a moment. Her mind was racing and she found it hard to pin down her thoughts. "Even if you get him back, you're never going to be the same."
"I know. But if I don't…"
Laura watched as Ellen wiped her tears with the collar of her coat.
"I'd do the same thing," Laura said, gritting her teeth. It was so hard to keep looking at her but she wanted her to understand. "Ellen, I'd do the same frakkin' thing."
I'd do the same thing if it were Bill.
She brushed a tear away before Ellen could see it.
"I'm so tired." Ellen closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "I'm so tired of all of this."
I'm tired of it too. So tired of this frakkin' place.
"Let's go to sleep," Laura said, standing up and walking over to her trunk. "I have a pair of pants you can wear. You must be freezing."
Laura rummaged through the clothes until she pulled out a pair of black pants. She brought them to Ellen and offered them to her. "These should fit you. We're about the same size."
"Thank you," Ellen said, taking them. She held them in her hand, seemingly lost in thought.
"It's okay." Laura touched Ellen's hair, tucking it behind her ear. Ellen looked up and gave her a small smile, the trance broken. "Put them on. I'll get into bed and wait for you."
Laura walked over to her cot, drawing the layers of blanket back. She nudged off her shoes with her feet and slid under the blankets, then watched Ellen pull the pants on out of the corner of her eye.
She's staying. She's safe here, at least for tonight.
Ellen looked at her and hesitated.
"Get in here," Laura said. "It's not cold in here like it is out there."
Laura felt like she was coaxing a distrustful kitten toward the first food it'd had in days. She took a deep breath of relief when Ellen walked over to her, then took off her coat. "I'm sorry, I don't sleep in my coat," she explained, her voice soft.
"It's okay."
You keep saying that.
Ellen sat down on the cot, then took a deep breath and lay down on her side with her back turned to Laura.
Laura quickly tugged the blankets up over them and pressed her chest into Ellen's back. She closed her eyes and tried not to feel guilty for the comfort she felt at having a warm body next to her again.
You're here to comfort her.
"It's okay," Laura murmured as she settled against her, her arm sliding around Ellen's waist. "You're just cold and tired. Just need to sleep."
"Thank you," she heard Ellen say quietly. She felt her breathe.
"S'okay."
It's okay. We just need to sleep.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10
Author: icedteainthebag
Word Count: 34,420
Rating: MA
Pairings: John Cavil/Ellen Tigh, Ellen Tigh/Saul Tigh, Laura Roslin/Bill Adama
Warnings: None
Summary: Sometimes we make mistakes when we think we're doing the right thing.
Notes: See Chapter One, but specific thanks on this chapter go to tjonesy and larsfarm77.
Artist: MrsDrJackson
Link to Art: banner can be found here.
x x x x
Dusk fell on New Caprica City, reminding Laura of how depressing it was to watch the slow succumbing of light to darkness.
She was trying to grade papers, convinced her pupils would never know she'd been drinking an ample cup of moonshine while she gave them their marks.
It had been a rough few days. She couldn't stop thinking about encountering Ellen at the market and the conversation they'd had. She'd gone to the market out of sheer will-she was tired of hiding and tired of catering to her fears. She didn't want to let the Cylons dictate her freedom anymore. There was no way they deserved that power over her. Despite her rationalizations, she'd been nervous as she picked up the vegetables she needed out of the few available.
Then she saw Ellen across the crowd. Saul's absence was really taking its toll on her-she could see it in her eyes and in the way she composed herself. She was hurting.
Of course she's hurting.
Laura wondered if people viewed her the same way. She hoped they didn't.
She tried to keep busy throughout the day to stave off thoughts of Bill. It was easier to ignore the feelings that would overcome her if she let her mind slip. Sometimes she missed him so much it ached. Other times she was angry at him. Angry that he hadn't fought hard enough, even though she knew-logically, she knew-that it would have been a losing battle against the force of the Cylons that had jumped into their safe haven's orbit so many months ago.
She took another long drink of the alcohol, feeling it burn her throat. She had no idea how Saul could down so much of it.
How he used to. No, how he could.
But the warmth it provided was nearly worth it.
Maybe that's how.
Laura was taking another drink when she heard someone outside her tent.
She twitched in her seat for a moment, thinking of the large stick she had inconveniently stored under her cot, when Ellen walked in unannounced.
Laura knew something was wrong because for the first time, Ellen wouldn't look into her eyes. Her hair was slightly wet, her face reddened.
"I've had to do some things," she began, before she seemed to run out of words.
Laura's stomach sank, and she stood up and watched Ellen shift on her feet.
Oh, Ellen, what did you do?
"Come in," Laura said, composing herself and retrieving a second cup from a wooden rack. "Sit down."
"Thanks," Ellen said with a soft sniffle. She wrapped her arm around her waist and took a seat at the table, watching as Laura poured alcohol into the cup, to the brim.
"That'll do for starters, huh?" Laura said to encourage her, settling down on her own chair. Ellen wrapped both hands around the cup and looked at it pensively, then took a sip and winced.
"Bill didn't leave you anything better?" Ellen asked before she took another, longer sip.
Laura gave her the best smile she could. "Sadly, no."
"Selfish bastard."
Wow. That stung.
"Sorry. I didn't mean it like that," Ellen apologized, noticing Laura's reaction.
Laura picked up her own cup, looking into it. "It's okay." She took a long drink, draining it. "Maybe he is sometimes."
She picked up the bottle and poured more for herself. She looked up at Ellen, raising her eyebrow. "You need more?"
Ellen downed her drink and set her cup on the table in front of her. "Now I do."
Laura poured Ellen a drink, then recorked the bottle, knowing it should probably be her last round.
Probably.
She drank and leaned back, glancing at Ellen before turning her attention to the tent flap that wavered with the breeze. She wanted to ask Ellen what had happened, but didn't know how to approach it. As much as she hated the idea, she wondered if Ellen had made some deal with the devil, some arrangement hastily agreed upon based on the fleeting notion of having her most prized possession returned to her.
She knew all too well about promises, about clinging to the idea that maybe, some way, what she did would bring her what she wanted the most.
"What are you thinking about?" Ellen asked.
"I was thinking about us. How we've been so adversarial in the past, yet here we are."
She doesn't need to know.
"Mmm, I know," Ellen said, taking a longer drink. "I thought you were a real bitch when I met you."
That's more like it.
Laura laughed. It felt good to do so. "I probably was. I know I was. I was going through a lot."
"How's that different from now?"
She has a point.
Laura thought about when she'd met Ellen-it was under the most suspicious of circumstances, when nobody was to be trusted. She'd lost her home, her life as she knew it, even Richard, and she'd been exchanging barbs and veiled threats with Bill at every turn. Ellen's emergence had caught her off guard, causing even more disruption in her already disrupted life.
"I don't know. Maybe it's not different, but my reaction to my situation is different now."
"How?"
Laura felt herself starting to tense up at Ellen's line of questioning, but she was also intrigued by how Ellen could be so flippantly pointed. She took a deep breath, contemplating the warmth of the alcohol coursing through her body.
The alcohol you keep ingesting at a slightly alarming rate.
"I've always been the kind of person to distance myself from others, to question everyone and everything. Always."
"I couldn't tell." Ellen snickered and tossed back the rest of her drink, her posture more relaxed. There was a hint of a smile on her face.
"I'm serious."
"I know you are."
Laura took a deep breath and examined Ellen.
It's okay to trust her. You've got no one else to trust down here.
"I've changed. I'm still figuring out how I've changed." Laura started tracing the edge of her cup with her finger, endless circles. She focused on the fluid motion as she tried to think of the right words to say. She never had a problem discussing business, but this was far from business, and she couldn't help but feel nervous.
She didn't look up at Ellen, but shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she felt Ellen watching her.
I wonder what she's thinking.
"Does this have anything to do with Bill?" Ellen's voice was tentative, yet Laura could tell that she knew the answer already.
Of course it does. It has a lot to do with him. She just wants me to admit it.
"It might."
She's going to see right through that one.
"Might," Ellen repeated. Laura looked up to see her smirk and tilt back in her chair. "Bill's a lot like you, you know. I'm sure you know that."
"Mmm, how?"
She asked, but she already knew. She wanted to hear what Ellen had to say. She'd been curious about Ellen's perspective on Bill since their conversation at the bar.
It seems like so long ago.
"Bill mans the lighthouse," Ellen said. "His job is to ensure the safety of everyone, to lead them through the storm, to help them avoid the rocks, but when it comes down to it, he's just a light in the dark, alone. He exists to serve his function. He rarely looks outside that." Ellen paused. "At least, that was the way he was, before he…"
Ellen faltered.
"Before he…" Laura pressed with a soft smile. Ellen tossed her hair and leaned over, her elbows on the tabletop. She dragged the bottle across the table and poured herself another cup, then drank from it, her expression contemplative.
"I don't know, Laura."
You can't backpedal now.
"Before I came along?" Laura suggested, her stomach fluttering at the suggestion.
"Hmm.” Ellen swirled the liquid around her cup, watching it lap at the edge. "He loves you, you know."
The words surprised Laura more than she'd expected. She laughed uncomfortably and looked away, her fingertips pressing against the tabletop.
You can't know that. I don't even know that yet.
Clearing her throat, Laura grabbed her cup and lifted it to Ellen, meeting her eyes with as genuine of a smile as she could manage. "Cheers. To temporary respite through alcohol."
Their cups clinked in the middle of the table.
"Cheers," Ellen repeated, tossing it back.
Laura drank what remained in her cup, having lost track of how much she'd actually consumed.
It burns going down.
x x x x
Ellen felt the silence that followed her revelation about Bill's feelings wasn't necessarily awkward, but it wasn't comfortable either. The reality that neither of them really knew each other well was becoming obvious.
She'd thrown it out there-the "L" word-because she knew it would make Laura uncomfortable, but at the same time, curious. It took a lot to break down the walls the ex-President had constructed. Ellen knew the ability to keep her guard up was something Laura had refined to perfection. She'd practically made indifference an art form. She was that type of woman.
Her head slightly fuzzy, Ellen found a welcome relief in the calm satisfaction that radiated through her body. She watched Laura as she placed her cup upon the table in front of them with a little too much bravado.
"So," Laura said. "How did the Tighs come to be?"
Give and take. I'm onto your game.
"I can hardly remember, it was so long ago," Ellen mused. "This could be a figment of my imagination based on a lot of experiences, but I do believe we met in a bar."
It was true. She was an honest drunk. Laura had to know that already. It felt good to think about something different for once, something that made her happy.
"That's surprising." Laura's sarcasm, usually biting and rarely good-humored toward her, now seemed to be nothing but a tease. They shared a grin.
"We met back in college." She remembered Saul was still in the detention center, experiencing gods knew what by the hand of gods knew whom, and felt awash with guilt.
While you're sitting here relaxing, drinking, shooting the shit. What the hell are you doing?
"College was a long time ago," Laura said, reeling Ellen back to the conversation.
"We were in love." She shifted in her seat, more uncomfortable by the second. "It was crazy, our attraction. I'd never felt anything like it. I still haven't. Which is good, I guess, since I'm still married to the frakker."
If he's alive.
Of course he's alive. Stop it.
Ellen took a shaky breath. "Even though sometimes I think he's married to the Fleet."
Turn the focus back on her.
Laura bit her lip, drawing it between her teeth. "That never changes, does it?"
Her voice was uncertain, like she knew the truth but didn't really want to hear it.
"I told you it doesn't," Ellen said, shrugging. "Doesn't matter how long you're together. There's always a part of them that doesn't belong to you."
Laura looked away then. Her voice was soft when she continued. "I can't imagine loving someone for that long."
Me either, sometimes.
"We've had our ups and downs."
Like a frakkin' roller coaster.
"Everybody does," Laura said. "It's the ups that make the downs worthwhile."
"If that's so, then I'm expecting one hell of an up after all this." Ellen closed her eyes and took a deep breath to try and calm her nerves. "If Saul comes back."
If I can get him back.
She felt the sudden urge to get up, to go back to the detention center and demand from that motherfrakker Cavil that her husband be released. She'd paid her dues many times over. There had to be a point where she'd given up enough.
"He will," Laura said firmly. "And so will Bill."
I wish I were so sure.
x x x x
Laura watched Ellen's expression change when she mentioned Saul. It was a little determined, a little desperate.
She'd go find him now if she could.
"I can't..." Ellen began, fiddling with a button on her coat. "I can't do this. I have to...I'm sorry, I have to go now."
Ellen stood up, her legs a bit wobbly after the drinks they'd downed. Laura followed suit, her fingers tracing the table to steady herself. She blushed at how unstable she was. It was unusual for her to get to this point, but New Caprica had led her to believe that sometimes, she needed to get frakked up.
This is one of those times.
She walked around the table to where Ellen hesitantly stood. Ellen wouldn't meet her eyes and Laura's heart ached at the idea of where exactly she thought she had to go, or what she had to do.
What have you been sacrificing for him?
Laura stepped closer and pulled her into an embrace. It was unexpected and impetuous, and Ellen stiffened up before hugging her back, her arms slipping around Laura's neck and pulling her tight.
It's not just the cold that's making her shake.
She buried her face in Ellen's hair, because that in itself was comforting-the feeling of her hair brushing her cheeks, the scent of ashy soap that was now so familiar.
She felt Ellen's breath on her neck and held her more tightly.
"I want him back so badly," Ellen whispered.
Laura felt a burn behind her eyelids, the threat of tears immediate. "I know."
They were silent for long moments, their breathing evening out.
The sound of Gaeta's voice over the loudspeaker-Felix Gaeta, even the thought of that traitor made her angry-indicated that curfew was to begin in five minutes. It repeated, a short, succinct statement that Laura had memorized by the fourth time she heard it, though she tried not to think too hard about the key phrase-"severe penalties will be imposed."
How he could say these things to his own people was beyond her. It was horrifying.
But it was routine, and this announcement would be followed in three minutes by a warning siren. It always grated on her nerves, no matter how many times she heard it.
"Shit," Ellen groaned, sniffling and pulling her head away from Laura's shoulder. "I gotta go. I gotta get back."
Back where?
"Do you have enough time to make it home?" Laura asked. She stepped away from Ellen, steadying herself with a firm grip on the table. She watched as Ellen glanced at the front of the tent.
"If I run," Ellen admitted. "Or...stumble. Quickly."
Laura bit her lip, her stomach churning. The last thing she wanted was for Ellen to get thrown into detention. And she wasn't sold on the idea that Ellen was going home at all.
The distant siren began then and Laura shuddered at the sound. It was a horrible wail, an ominous reminder of their condition.
She won't be safe if she leaves now.
Ellen made a move to leave. Laura opened her mouth and took a deep breath.
"I used to frak President Adar."
Ellen looked over her shoulder and Laura felt a deep blush spread across her cheeks. This divulgence of details was a move of desperation on her part. She knew Ellen wouldn't be able to resist the carrot dangling in front of her.
She felt queasy, suddenly too exposed.
Just frakkin' relax.
Ellen turned to her, her tone uncertain. "Why are you telling me this?"
Because sometimes we make mistakes when we think we're doing the right thing.
"I've never told anyone."
"Why are you telling me?"
Come on, come on, she's so close.
"Because I trust you," Laura said.
Ellen glanced back at the tent flaps, her shoulders slumped slightly forward. "It's curfew."
"It's not safe."
Laura walked back to her chair and sat down. She leaned her elbows on the table and pressed her lips against her clasped hands, watching Ellen shift on her feet.
"I frakked him for a decade," she said. "Probably more, off and on. I don't quite remember how long it was. It started with his mayoral campaign."
Just saying the words brought a rush of emotion back to Laura that she hadn't let herself feel in a long time. She'd never dealt with losing Richard, she knew that. She pushed it back and moved on, like she always did. She didn't think about him, didn't want to think about him.
Offering up the discussion to Ellen opened a wound she knew she had never let heal.
But it's how I'll keep her here.
x x x x
Laura's confession had blindsided Ellen and at first, she found herself wary of it.
Then again, as she walked up to the table and sat down across from Laura, she couldn't come up with a single reason why Laura would lie to her about something like that. If she didn't want her to leave she could have just said so. But she offered up Adar for a reason.
We may have more in common than I thought.
She leaned in over the table and examined Laura's expression. Laura had reverted to her more formal persona, the frivolity provided by the alcohol at least temporarily suspended. And she looked downright morose, like maybe she missed him more than she'd let on.
Well frak, now her attraction to Bill is making a lot more sense.
"So, Richard Adar. Wasn't he-"
"Yes. He was married."
Oh, my. Aren't we a little deep in the mire?
"Quite the sin," Ellen said. "So, how was he in bed?"
"I stuck around for a while, didn't I?"
"Maybe it was his personality."
Laura's smile was slight. Ellen didn't know what to think. Whenever she'd seen Richard Adar on the television he'd looked like he had the personality of a hunk of granite.
"At the beginning it was his personality," Laura said before straightening in her chair. Ellen watched her and could see her thinking. "Gods, he was so full of brilliance at the beginning. Idealism, optimism and a sound head on his shoulders. All those traits good politicians have. Good politicians keep them. Bad politicians lose them along the way."
"Was he a bad one?"
Laura folded her arms across her chest, her eyes on the table.
Don't close up now.
"He turned out to be. It was over for us anyway. It ended the day I left for Galactica."
"What a breakup. You really shouldn't tell many people that you had a fight with your boyfriend before he died in a nuclear holocaust."
Laura wordlessly stared at her cup, her jaw set. Ellen heard her take a deep breath.
He really meant something to her.
Ellen wondered if it was the only way Laura could say such things-by pretending the other person wasn't sitting right in front of her. "There was a time I'd do anything for him," Laura said quietly.
Ellen's brow furrowed. She didn't know why she felt so upset by Laura's statement. "You don't say those things unless you mean them."
Laura looked up. Ellen didn't mean for her voice to sound so sharp. She bit her cheek in embarrassment.
Isolate the one person reaching out to you. Good one.
Ellen ran her fingers through her hair and tightened her coat around her body. It was cooling down quickly and Ellen realized she was severely underdressed, still wearing her dress from earlier. At least the alcohol was keeping her warm. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"What's happening to you, Ellen?"
Laura sounded like part of her was bracing for the answer.
Oh, gods, I'm not ready to go there with you.
"I just need him back," Ellen said. She knew she was repeating herself. It was the same thing that swirled in her head every waking hour, the same thing that kept her going back to that detention center every frakking day.
"I know."
"No, you don't know," Ellen said, suddenly livid. She gripped the table and felt a tear slip down her cheek. "You don't know, Laura. You don't know what it's like, you haven't given anything up, you're just sitting here waiting for Bill to come back. Waiting. I can't wait." She repressed the sob that ached to be released from her chest. "I can't wait."
x x x x
Laura tried not to cry at the anguish she heard in Ellen's voice-it both pained her and frightened her. She kept her eyes on the woman in front of her, her throat constricted.
"If you sacrifice yourself for him," Laura began. She had to stop and close her eyes for a moment. Her mind was racing and she found it hard to pin down her thoughts. "Even if you get him back, you're never going to be the same."
"I know. But if I don't…"
Laura watched as Ellen wiped her tears with the collar of her coat.
"I'd do the same thing," Laura said, gritting her teeth. It was so hard to keep looking at her but she wanted her to understand. "Ellen, I'd do the same frakkin' thing."
I'd do the same thing if it were Bill.
She brushed a tear away before Ellen could see it.
"I'm so tired." Ellen closed her eyes and breathed deeply. "I'm so tired of all of this."
I'm tired of it too. So tired of this frakkin' place.
"Let's go to sleep," Laura said, standing up and walking over to her trunk. "I have a pair of pants you can wear. You must be freezing."
Laura rummaged through the clothes until she pulled out a pair of black pants. She brought them to Ellen and offered them to her. "These should fit you. We're about the same size."
"Thank you," Ellen said, taking them. She held them in her hand, seemingly lost in thought.
"It's okay." Laura touched Ellen's hair, tucking it behind her ear. Ellen looked up and gave her a small smile, the trance broken. "Put them on. I'll get into bed and wait for you."
Laura walked over to her cot, drawing the layers of blanket back. She nudged off her shoes with her feet and slid under the blankets, then watched Ellen pull the pants on out of the corner of her eye.
She's staying. She's safe here, at least for tonight.
Ellen looked at her and hesitated.
"Get in here," Laura said. "It's not cold in here like it is out there."
Laura felt like she was coaxing a distrustful kitten toward the first food it'd had in days. She took a deep breath of relief when Ellen walked over to her, then took off her coat. "I'm sorry, I don't sleep in my coat," she explained, her voice soft.
"It's okay."
You keep saying that.
Ellen sat down on the cot, then took a deep breath and lay down on her side with her back turned to Laura.
Laura quickly tugged the blankets up over them and pressed her chest into Ellen's back. She closed her eyes and tried not to feel guilty for the comfort she felt at having a warm body next to her again.
You're here to comfort her.
"It's okay," Laura murmured as she settled against her, her arm sliding around Ellen's waist. "You're just cold and tired. Just need to sleep."
"Thank you," she heard Ellen say quietly. She felt her breathe.
"S'okay."
It's okay. We just need to sleep.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10