Going Under | R | Battlestar Galactica
Title: Going Under
Prompt: She can almost smell the water.
Fandom: Laura/Lee, Battlestar Galactica
Rating: R
Word Count: 982
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's Note: I don’t know why I have such a strong fascination with angsty Laura. Sorry for that. I hope this came out all right...I took some liberties in describing the side effects of chamalla. Let me know what you think.
-
Laura sways a little, closing her eyes and succumbing to the effects of the chamalla. It’s like this every night after she takes her pill, the sudden rush of the worst of the side effects before it mellows out later in the day. She’s grown used to this part, when lights and images and energy flicker through her mind. It’s better when she submits to it and allows it to happen. When she does, the hallucinations are more like dreams, and Laura can almost pretend that she’s asleep and not dying at all.
Lights flash, ablaze and vibrant, pulsing so ardently that she can nearly feel the erratic throb. Perspiration dots across her brow and her head tilts back as she sees stars and water, so much water. Her hair falls over her shoulder and brushes against her bare back and she shudders violently, feeling as though every strand is bearing into her flesh like the lashes of whips.
She takes a deep breath and can almost smell the water, can almost smell the salt of the air and if she follows it just far enough, she thinks she might be able to taste it too. It would be so easy to drown in this ocean, to let the water swallow her up. Her natural instinct to survive twitches inside of her, reminding her that there is still a battle to be fought, and that she can’t let the water win, not yet. She hears the muffled, faraway sound of a voice echo through the waves and she stops swaying, as if it will help her hear. The sound, though unclear and cloudy, is urgent.
When a warm palm settles upon her thigh, Laura jumps. The touch is electric and she immediately opens her eyes, staring at Lee’s hand for nearly a minute before she blinks and resurfaces.
“Are you all right?” he asks, his hair askew, his face wrought with concern.
She licks her lips, momentarily confused about why they’re so dry when she was just under water. She searches for her voice-did she leave it behind? Words seem difficult, so she simply nods.
Lee twists his body, reaching behind him to grab a neglected glass of water. He hands it to her and waits, watching her closely until she drinks. She closes her eyes to his voyeurism, focusing instead on each swallow of the clear, lukewarm liquid that glides down her throat. He squeezes her leg again when the glass is empty.
“Is it the chamalla?”
“Yes,” she says, and her voice sounds far away. It sounds like someone else’s. It sounds like her really little sister’s. The water calls to her.
“Hey,” he implores. He sits up, rubbing his hand along her arm as he kisses her shoulder. “Stay with me.”
“I’m here,” she lies, looking at the shore. She can tell the water’s warm. She wants to test it with her toes before submerging herself completely. Lee persists, dragging his lips back and forth against her back. She shivers unpleasantly and he sighs, his breath unbearably hot, and lets her go, falling back to their little makeshift bed with a thud.
It takes a minute, but Laura turns her back on the hallucination and looks at Lee, tired and worried in her bed. He does this for her, risks his reputation and his standing with his father, so she won’t have to go through the side effects alone. He stays with her on Colonial One for as long as he can and sometimes longer.
“I’m sorry,” Laura whispers in the voice that’s not her own, resting her hand against his chest. She can feel his heart beating against her palm and it grounds her, reminding her what’s real and what’s simply a drug-induced illusion.
Her Captain Apollo is real.
He covers her hand with his own. “It’s all right. I just hate seeing you like this.”
She nods carefully, counting the beats of his heart. “The diloxin would be worse,” she adds, but she has no idea if it’s true. It might not be worse, but it would come with its own special version of hell. She remembers her mother’s pain, how she described it as feeling like there was fire in her veins.
She’d prefer to take her chances with water. Either way, she’s still going to die.
Lee tightens his hand around hers. He doesn’t respond-how can he? What say has he in her choice of medical treatment? He has no say and so he says nothing, choosing instead to give her himself. It’s all he can offer and for now, it’s enough.
“What do you need, Laura?”
Need. She needs so many things. She needs a cure. She needs death. She needs to no longer be caught in between, wrestling in the dark with her fear and her pain. She needs him to understand how strong the beckoning call of the water is. Perhaps all of this would be okay if she could pull him in with her, sink into the depths with her hands clasped in his.
Would he drown with her if she asked?
Glossy eyes focus as sharp noise breaks through her cloudy mind. She feels the jump of his heartbeat against her palm, the steady thump-thump-thump a siren song that she cannot resist. This sound is real and the waves are not. She leans down, kissing his chest directly over his heart, and breathes him in.
“Don’t let me drown, Lee. Please…don’t let me go under.”
He gently strokes his fingertips over her hair, careful to avoid touching her too-sensitive skin. “You’re not going anywhere without me. I won’t let anything happen to you, Laura.”
It’s a lie. Where she’s going, he can’t follow. She wouldn’t let him if he could. But it’s enough for now, to be alive and in his arms. It’s enough to keep her afloat.
---
Prompt: She can almost smell the water.
Fandom: Laura/Lee, Battlestar Galactica
Rating: R
Word Count: 982
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's Note: I don’t know why I have such a strong fascination with angsty Laura. Sorry for that. I hope this came out all right...I took some liberties in describing the side effects of chamalla. Let me know what you think.
-
Laura sways a little, closing her eyes and succumbing to the effects of the chamalla. It’s like this every night after she takes her pill, the sudden rush of the worst of the side effects before it mellows out later in the day. She’s grown used to this part, when lights and images and energy flicker through her mind. It’s better when she submits to it and allows it to happen. When she does, the hallucinations are more like dreams, and Laura can almost pretend that she’s asleep and not dying at all.
Lights flash, ablaze and vibrant, pulsing so ardently that she can nearly feel the erratic throb. Perspiration dots across her brow and her head tilts back as she sees stars and water, so much water. Her hair falls over her shoulder and brushes against her bare back and she shudders violently, feeling as though every strand is bearing into her flesh like the lashes of whips.
She takes a deep breath and can almost smell the water, can almost smell the salt of the air and if she follows it just far enough, she thinks she might be able to taste it too. It would be so easy to drown in this ocean, to let the water swallow her up. Her natural instinct to survive twitches inside of her, reminding her that there is still a battle to be fought, and that she can’t let the water win, not yet. She hears the muffled, faraway sound of a voice echo through the waves and she stops swaying, as if it will help her hear. The sound, though unclear and cloudy, is urgent.
When a warm palm settles upon her thigh, Laura jumps. The touch is electric and she immediately opens her eyes, staring at Lee’s hand for nearly a minute before she blinks and resurfaces.
“Are you all right?” he asks, his hair askew, his face wrought with concern.
She licks her lips, momentarily confused about why they’re so dry when she was just under water. She searches for her voice-did she leave it behind? Words seem difficult, so she simply nods.
Lee twists his body, reaching behind him to grab a neglected glass of water. He hands it to her and waits, watching her closely until she drinks. She closes her eyes to his voyeurism, focusing instead on each swallow of the clear, lukewarm liquid that glides down her throat. He squeezes her leg again when the glass is empty.
“Is it the chamalla?”
“Yes,” she says, and her voice sounds far away. It sounds like someone else’s. It sounds like her really little sister’s. The water calls to her.
“Hey,” he implores. He sits up, rubbing his hand along her arm as he kisses her shoulder. “Stay with me.”
“I’m here,” she lies, looking at the shore. She can tell the water’s warm. She wants to test it with her toes before submerging herself completely. Lee persists, dragging his lips back and forth against her back. She shivers unpleasantly and he sighs, his breath unbearably hot, and lets her go, falling back to their little makeshift bed with a thud.
It takes a minute, but Laura turns her back on the hallucination and looks at Lee, tired and worried in her bed. He does this for her, risks his reputation and his standing with his father, so she won’t have to go through the side effects alone. He stays with her on Colonial One for as long as he can and sometimes longer.
“I’m sorry,” Laura whispers in the voice that’s not her own, resting her hand against his chest. She can feel his heart beating against her palm and it grounds her, reminding her what’s real and what’s simply a drug-induced illusion.
Her Captain Apollo is real.
He covers her hand with his own. “It’s all right. I just hate seeing you like this.”
She nods carefully, counting the beats of his heart. “The diloxin would be worse,” she adds, but she has no idea if it’s true. It might not be worse, but it would come with its own special version of hell. She remembers her mother’s pain, how she described it as feeling like there was fire in her veins.
She’d prefer to take her chances with water. Either way, she’s still going to die.
Lee tightens his hand around hers. He doesn’t respond-how can he? What say has he in her choice of medical treatment? He has no say and so he says nothing, choosing instead to give her himself. It’s all he can offer and for now, it’s enough.
“What do you need, Laura?”
Need. She needs so many things. She needs a cure. She needs death. She needs to no longer be caught in between, wrestling in the dark with her fear and her pain. She needs him to understand how strong the beckoning call of the water is. Perhaps all of this would be okay if she could pull him in with her, sink into the depths with her hands clasped in his.
Would he drown with her if she asked?
Glossy eyes focus as sharp noise breaks through her cloudy mind. She feels the jump of his heartbeat against her palm, the steady thump-thump-thump a siren song that she cannot resist. This sound is real and the waves are not. She leans down, kissing his chest directly over his heart, and breathes him in.
“Don’t let me drown, Lee. Please…don’t let me go under.”
He gently strokes his fingertips over her hair, careful to avoid touching her too-sensitive skin. “You’re not going anywhere without me. I won’t let anything happen to you, Laura.”
It’s a lie. Where she’s going, he can’t follow. She wouldn’t let him if he could. But it’s enough for now, to be alive and in his arms. It’s enough to keep her afloat.
---