Terra Nova - Things Lost in the Fire ch6 [Skye/Lucas]
Title: Things Lost in the Fire
Fandom: Terra Nova
Ship: Skye/Lucas
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: bad language, sexual situations, AU
Chapter: 6/?
Summary: Pre-Series. AU story. Skye meets a strange man at Snakehead Falls and ends up falling in love. But can happiness built on anonymity last, when the world around them is on fire?
Author's Note: I can barely my eyes open. This must be what insanity feels like.
Things Lost in the Fire
6. Caught, entangled, torn
It was more difficult to slip by their watch during the day than it was during the night. Skye found more patrols than usual surveying the perimeter, and the towers had more men too, eyeing the skies, searching for signals.
Somewhere by the tree line her ride was waiting, getting annoyed with just sitting. He probably feared Lucas enough to stick to his place; she wondered and walked past the guards with a smile, grabbing an apple from one of the booths at the market. She tossed payment to the clerk seconds later, sinking her teeth into the juicy flesh of the fruit and munching on it.
Skye sat down for a moment, supposedly enjoying the sunshine and her day off. In reality she was checking out her options, suspicious of everyone and everything that went on around her. Somewhere out here there was a chance she was missing: a hole in their security and awareness. She'd exploit it, see her mother and talk to Lucas, make him listen. Of course all of that was easier said than done, and she'd already wasted more time here than she would've liked.
She tossed the carcass of the apple over her shoulder, sucking on the last bits of the fruit while she contemplated further. The search for the spy was reaching its culmination, the net tightening day after day. She realized she hadn't really thought things that far, she'd just went along for the ride, sometimes actually finding enjoyment in the thrill and chase of her lifestyle. Most days it'd been the black hole sucking all life from her, but every once in awhile she'd let herself enjoy it. That day by the falls came to mind when she thought of such times, and the pleasant memories softened her smile, made it authentic.
For a lying bastard, Lucas Taylor was certainly someone who'd caught her attention and managed to hold onto it more than a passing moment. Now she had to slander him in her mind, distance herself from those raging emotions just to get by. If it was just them, it might've been different, but she had to carry so much more. It wasn't fair really.
Skye realized she hadn't really eaten anything today and considered grabbing another apple to sate her hunger, when she caught Josh walking by her, clad in dirty overalls. The hunger slipped her mind that instant and she shot up back on her feet, rushing after him. "Josh!" she called him playfully, and got him to turn around with a frown.
"Hey Skye," he said, showing some signs of surprise at seeing her. "I thought you'd be busy." She caught the trace of hurt in his voice and contributed it to the way she'd been acting lately. Skye shrugged it off though, uninterested in this fact.
"My plans changed," she smiled, trying to sound a bit apologetic. She brushed her hair behind her ear, pointing her eyes at his overalls and raising her eyebrows a bit. "Trying out a new look?"
Josh seemed to get over his initial moroseness and he actually smiled back at her already. "We're digging a new trench outside. Figured I'd help since no one was around to hang out with," he explained, clearly expecting extra credit for being a good soldier. Skye thought it was cute, but expected no less from anyone else, so it didn't really impress her.
"Can I help?" she inquired with amusement, hands behind her back and her body language giving all the signs for availability. One of the things that made her such a great liar was the way she pushed everything into physical form: her body reacted to her words and it gave the extra edge to convince others. Now she responded to his movement like an energetic, enthusiastic girl would.
"Sure, grab some clothes and a shuffle and I'll save a spot for you at the transport," Josh nodded, seemingly happy that she'd apparently overcome her earlier foul mood. Skye's smile widened, but not for the reasons he assumed, and she took off immediately to the direction he was pointing her at with a wink.
Twenty minutes later she was outside the gates with a legitimate alibi, listening to Josh's recent experiences at the colony, thinking she'd heard it all. Sure, he was a few years behind her and fresh, so it shouldn't have bothered her, but it did nevertheless. Skye would've been grateful to have siblings, parents, a normal life without complications and constant fear of exposure. Not so surprisingly Josh's complains seemed so small to her, so insignificant. But she nodded, threw in a comment or two to make it seem like she was listening, and ran her eyes through the layout of their work area.
The area was loosely guarded, a fact she found quite foolish, considering how she knew Sixers often hid in the tree line, observing what went on in Terra Nova. In her current plight though, she considered it a blessing. She'd barely dug anything yet, just followed Josh's example and played along. Gladly, Josh wasn't the type that paid much attention to what she did, especially when he was talking himself.
Skye spotted the foreman heading towards the opposite edge of their dig, and she stopped what she was doing, turning to Josh innocently. "I'd better check with the foreman, to make sure he noticed I tagged along and all," she noted, like the action was a pain. Josh didn't notice her excuse, as she'd suspected; he just continued his work, joking, "Let's hope he doesn't assign you to something else now that he has extra help."
And with that she slipped away, her steps feeling light in the wake of her success. She made sure no one was looking when she took a sharp turn and headed for the jungle, abandoning her shovel. Once she was out of sight, she wriggled out of her overalls, suddenly overcome with insecurity. She tried to rake her entangled hair straight, to wipe the perspiration from her cheeks and neck. And when she realized just how stupid that was, the tension in her stomach calmed a bit. It wasn't like she got to make a good impression this time.
It took her ten minutes to reach the rendezvous point by foot. As suspected her contact waited with a galled expression, hands folded across his chest. Clearly he was mired with his position as her protector, for she sensed he might've otherwise said a thing or two about her delay.
"Sorry," she mumbled to him, sliding her satchel off her shoulder and into her hand, as she climbed into the vehicle. Her driver didn't say anything though, just stepped inside as well and started the engine, quick to get them away. The drive was quiet; neither spoke nor saw the need to do so. Instead Skye fidgeted with the leash of her satchel, adjusting it to be longer and shorter again and again her mind struggling with the task ahead.
Eventually the ride was over, and she could see the camp appear into view behind the trees. They masked it, kept as little on the ground-level as possible, so that animals wouldn't wander into it. Everything was storaged in the tree houses, and the watchers moved soundlessly in the trees, always on the look-out for danger. There was kids in the Sixer camp as well, some born during their exile, and some who'd come along from Terra Nova. Before everything, some Sixers had actually adopted kids and then brought them here, as crazy as that was.
Skye thanked her driver for the ride, snagging her satchel and stepping outside as quickly as possible, wishing to end their time together. She fumbled a bit while stepping out of the car, but managed to stay on her feet. A sudden breath of fresh air brushed her hair to her face, forcing her to shake them off her eyes. No one seemed to pay attention to her however. Skye felt a rush of relief, for she was usually eyed critically and guided no matter where she went. This time it was like no one had really expected her.
She began walking towards the rope lift, expecting to be questioned or stopped before she could make it. It didn't happen. She got there just fine, and was pulled up by two Sixers, who apparently had the current shift. Even they didn't pay much attention to her, rather focusing on their game of chess. She noticed the pieces were carved by hand and had the most curious design. Neither of the men looked older than twenty, too young to be hired as infiltrators to paradise, but she supposed Lucas's employers had their means of recruiting.
"Where's Lucas?" she asked warily, holding onto her bag nervously. One of the men gave her a sideways glance, sighing, "Hasn't come back yet. We'll tell him where you are when he does."
The information struck her like an electric current running across her bloodstream. Suddenly she felt lonely, a dull pain in her heart ached after him. "I see," she responded, dispirited. "I'll go see my mom then."
The short distance between her and her mother's hut was longer than usual. She tried to focus on everything around her, the everyday life of the camp and its inhabitants, yet found everything meaningless. Why would've he left when he'd been waiting for her return so eagerly? Was it a blind spot in her plans? Would she have to wait for him for hours and risk exposure when they'd realize she had vanished from the dig site?
She noticed her mother was awake when she reached the entrance of the hut, and the realization washed the bad taste from her mouth. Skye approached her with an elated heart, her joy catching onto her mother when she too noticed she had a visitor. "Skye!" Deborah exclaimed, holding out her hands to embrace her daughter.
Skye moved next to her, kneeling by the bed and allowing herself to be held by her mother. It was different from the hug Tasha had given her, better somehow, like her mother withheld the true magic to unlock her hurt and confusion. It was meant to be a quick embrace, yet it turned into a drowning girl holding onto a branch, a connection to dry land. Her mother noticed the abrupt shift in her, the way she shook, and didn't let go, recognizing the agony in her daughter.
"Oh mom," she whispered, biting her lip, until she broke skin. A flood of blood filled her mouth, getting to realize just how desperately she was clinging onto her mother. Skye let go in shame, sucking on her lower lip that began to swell with pain almost immediately. She was sure that the guilt was all over her face, but she didn't care anymore. Perhaps it really was time.
"Skye what is wrong?" her mother asked, petting her hair with her fragile hand. Skye noted that she looked healthier than a few weeks ago, but she was still weak, so goddamn weak. There were days when she wondered whether she'd find her mother passed away some time, and if it'd be a relief somewhere deep down.
"I need to tell you something," Skye confessed, taking her mother's free hand onto hers and kissing it. She breathed a heavy breath, held onto the knowledge a little while longer, as her mother waited patiently for her to gather her thoughts. There was no judgment in Deborah Tate's eyes, just sadness, like she had expected this day.
"I've let you down, mom. I've lied, and it has to end," Skye explained, peering into her mother's eyes, hoping they would not turn her down in hate: that maybe truth was cleansing, that it purified her sins and finally brought her peace. If her mother could forgive her, maybe Lucas could too?
"I made a deal with Mira. It was the only way she would take you, give you the medicine." Deep down Deborah had anticipated something like this, had recognized that kindness had its price even in Paradise. She'd wanted to believe that the people caring for her were misunderstood, even as her reason had argued against it.
"I've been spying for them, giving info on Terra Nova and what goes on there. But I can't do it anymore, mom. I just can't. It's too much," Skye's words started to cling onto another, her voice low and tensed. Deborah could hear her despair; recognize how Skye was trying to tell her something others should not hear. It scared her.
Skye noticed the way her mother's hand fell from her face, how she struggled with the knowledge, how the light died in her eyes. It made the words so much harder to say. She clutched her mother's hand inside hers, hoping that her warmth would bring life back into her mother too.
"I can't keep lying, harming others just so you can be ok again. Because I don't think you're going to be ok," her voice trailed off, tears making their way into her eyes. They strung like hell, she tried to keep them back. It didn't fair to have to tell your own mother this, but she had to.
"Skye," her mother called her, seeing how Skye averted her teary eyes, unable to say what she wanted to her face. "Skye Alexandria Tate," she said again, this time with more presence, strength. It snapped Skye back, made her focus as the first tears ran across her cheeks.
"You're not doing this anymore," Deborah said, bringing her own hand on top of hers. There was no hurt or malice in her, nothing to indicate she would've taken Skye's words the wrong way. "I've been sick for a long time now, Bucket. It's not something you can fix, and you don't need to try anymore," she then continued, hoping to absolve the burden Skye had carried unbeknownst to her.
"I want you to go and never look back. I want you to tell Commander Taylor everything and leave me here," she then pleaded, a mother above all, even her own fear of death. She'd been in its grasp for a long time now, trying to fight for her baby. It just became clear to her that fighting wasn't an option if her every breath was paid with another life.
And Skye couldn't say anything to object, because it was what she'd wanted to hear for years now, secretly longing for her mother to just let her go. It made her selfish, a terrible child and human being, but the weight was so heavy. Despair had taken her so many nights. Only one thing had pierced that shroud of fear and loathing - Lucas.
"I've let you down," Skye whispered, squeezing her mother's hands, thinking how she couldn't even feel her heartbeat, even with her bulky veins pumping right beneath her fingers. "I can't leave you." She shook her head for effect, decisive eyes piercing her mother's.
But Deborah looked back at her kindly, smiling. "You're a good person Skye. I'm proud of you. But your future matters, not mine. You need to let go and be your own person."
The smell of her sickness was suddenly piercing, a sharp sensation. It made her head spin, forced her eyes shut. She coughed aggressively, realizing that Skye wrapped her arms around her mother, lifting her to a sitting position to help her breathing. The episode ended as quickly as it had started, but it only helped steel her resolve.
"Put me down, Bucket, and go," Deborah demanded with a hint of annoyance in her voice. It was so different from the way she usually talked to Skye, it actually reached her. Skye withdrew after helping her mother back on her back, yet she was unable to go. She didn't cry anymore, worry had overtaken her.
"I said go," Deborah repeated, an unheard of fierceness creeping into her voice. It was like a knife between them, twisting. Skye remembered this all too well, the fever was rising again and in its wake came the hallucinations and personality shifts. It was getting worse.
"I'll get you some medicine," Skye said, reaching for a bowl of water on the table, but her hand got slapped away with her mother, the small table the bowl rested on almost knocked over. Skye actually jumped a bit at the sudden contact, falling on her behind, eyes focused on her mother. Deborah's eyes were red, her skin yellow and feverish.
Skye saw her feet move, push beneath the blanket so that it shifted. Her mother had been a runner once; she'd had strong legs that carried her for great distances. One of the first things they'd done together as a family here had been to go hiking on one of the safer areas with other new pilgrims. Now her legs were bony, weak. The disease had eaten at her, taking even her ability to walk. And she was trying so hard now, just so she could push her away.
The silence between them made Skye understand finally. Her mother was serious, ravaged by this disease was no life worth living. She was done playing brave for her daughter, so she was showing Skye the truth. Once she saw it she could no longer deny it: their cure was only delaying the inevitable. Skye sat a few meters away from her mother, staring at the woman on her side, who was breathing with labor.
"I love you," she said, and dried her tears on her shirt, watching as her mother responded to the words with a waning smile. "Then leave me," she said, pulling the blank back over her feet. Deborah closed her eyes after that, waiting for sleep or death, whichever would arrive first.
Skye didn't move from her spot for several minutes. She tried to grasp everything that had just happened, the words that had been exchanged, and the glimpse of her mother's true condition. Skye had prepared herself for the worst so many times that now it didn't feel as terrifying anymore. Actually, she wondered if there was any chance for a happy ending.
It was when she realized her mother was back asleep, exhausted by her visit, when she finally stood up and walked away. Numbness followed those steps, her tears were dry. She didn't know what she was supposed to feel, yet she knew it wasn't this. Relief was probably the least important thing on that list, and she felt it whole heartedly.
Walking back to the men by the rope elevator, she fixed her appearance again, and asked them, "Where is Lucas?"
Again they focused on their game rather than her. A moment later one responded, "There's no telling when he'll be back."
Skye snorted with disbelief, a faint sting of cynicism making its way to her. "Fine then. Tell them I'll wait in his hut," she said, striding off while she still could. Maybe her anger was irrational, but she was tired of being abandoned by everyone she cared about.
Remembering the route from last night, she followed her memory and made her way to his hut. It was dark there, his notes hung all over the walls, reminding her of her betrayal to come. She felt an urge to tear them to pieces pass through her and then just exhaustion.
Noticing his bed in the corner, Skye moved towards it and slumped herself over the covers. His scent was all over them, it teased her, sparked the memories she kept closest. She wrapped his blanket on her, squeezing his pillow into her arms, and burying her head in it. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep.
-
"You should show that bump to someone," Mira muttered tensely, adjusting the strap of her gun while she eyed Lucas discreetly. All the others kept a small distance from them, as if sensing how riled up their fearless leader was. She barely noticed the difference, albeit had to admit she'd seen him on a better mood as well.
Lucas touched the dark red cut on his forehead again, this time more tentatively, knowing how much it would sting at contact. He couldn't quite stop touching it though, the ache it spread across his forehead made it difficult to ignore. It didn't bleed anymore, thankfully, but it would probably leave a distinct bruise. He'd been sloppy, stupid even for letting his thoughts wonder like that.
"I think I'll manage," he responded, eyes cast on their surroundings.
Mira found his grumpiness almost endearing, but denied such thoughts. There was nothing endearing about Lucas Taylor, a man willing to betray his own father even when he'd been handed the keys to paradise. Lucas was a predator at heart.
"You could have internal bleeding," she clarified her worry, stealing a glance at some of the others, who'd accompanied them to the hunt. No one else dared to speak to him this way. "And then we'd have no way home."
Lucas smiled at the thought lazily, having known there was a reason she insisted on accompanying him almost everywhere. Had their employer asked her to look after him, did they think he needed a babysitter? "At least it would be a peaceful way to die," he remarked, leaving her uncertain whether he actually carried such a death wish in his heart.
Mira signaled the others to drag the prey off and leave them. Lucas was already positioning himself on the lift, beckoning them to pull him up. He'd retire like always, sink into his dark thoughts and keep from others. She would see the light in his hut in the darkest night during the shift change and wonder silently if her own child would turn like that with her gone, so jaded and scarred.
"Fine then," she snorted, picking up something from her belt. It was a knife, smeared in blood. Mira wiped the blood away the best she could to the side of her pants before handing it over. Lucas took the object, finding small comfort in having it back. He must've dropped it when the creature had attacked, ramming against him. He hadn't intended to play bait, yet it had happened, leaving his life in the hands of the Sixers. And they'd come for him without hesitation, or expecting thanks. It was more than he'd expected.
Their eyes met for a moment, an understanding suddenly building between them. It was strange to be able to grasp one's meaning in full without words, almost surreal. Lucas broke off the eye contact a moment later, tugging at the rope. They began pulling him up almost instantly.
"Have them send her to me when she arrives," Lucas instructed calmly, still dangling the knife in his hand, while they pulled him up.
Mira thought about giving him a fake salute and realized she wasn't ready to tempt fate and his terrible mood swings, so she just walked away with a strangely pleased smirk. She was beginning to understand this beast called Lucas Taylor. And maybe he was beginning to understand the human race.
Lucas didn't think much when his feet finally touched the wooden surface of the platform up high. He nodded at the men, who eyed him nervously, and put the knife away calmly. He thought about checking up on Skye's mother, but realized he was unwilling to sit there and be evaluated. She'd found his interest in her daughter all too endearing the last time, and he saw no reason to be the one to tell her about them. He wasn't exactly what you would call a dream son-in-law.
"Taylor," one of the men called him and he turned his head with little curiosity. "The girl's waiting in your quarters," the guard them told him, causing him to snap awake right into this moment from his thoughts.
He gave back a half-hearted nod, quickening his paste as he hurried to his hut, fearing rather irrationally he might miss her. He'd lost all sense of time during their hunt, and the bang in the head hadn't helped with that either. Lucas wondered how she'd been able to pass the time, whether she'd been scared, and if she was safe. He was almost too protective of her, his adventurous Skye. Many times he'd wondered how he would keep his sanity if they were ever allowed to be together in a normal, open relationship. He might just have to close her inside a birdcage to make sure she'd stay still.
Lucas stepped inside his hut, making room for daylight to enter along his side. Disappointment washed through him, as he didn't see anything at first. The hut appeared untouched. Then he realized the dark shape slung over his bed, and begun a slow approach. She lay so still, sleeping peacefully. Lucas squatted next to her, observing her face and the expression of sheer exhaustion. He would let her sleep safely once they got back to 2149. There were no monsters there, nothing to interrupt her well-deserved rest. He brushed his hand against her wavy hair, forgetting the throbbing pain in his forehead for a moment.
Just looking at her exhilarated him, gave meaning to the long separation they had suffered through. "Wake up, Bucket," he called to her, enjoying how she pushed into his touch when she shifted in her sleep. His dirty hand cupped her cheek, leaving a tarnished taint there, a trace of blood and soil.
She turned on her back, unwilling to wake, to come to him. Lucas pulled his hand away to shake her awake, cruel desire telling to do the opposite, to claim her. He had all the chances later though; he didn't need to rush into things anymore. So his voice grew more distant, demanding, "Skye, wake up."
She woke up when he gripped her shoulder tightly, the sudden pressure pushing through her dreamless state. An annoyed frown decorated her face for a moment. Then she realized where she was and with whom. Skye stood up quickly, panicked eyes searching for a source of light. How could've she fallen asleep! How long had she slept?
Lucas observed her, relaxed and amused by her reflexes. She assumed the worst, ready to jump into battle, to fight the current. Soon she wouldn't have to live like that anymore.
Then her eyes were upon his, and she froze with shame for just a few seconds, before she started to make her way out of bed, her dire circumstances forcing her to deny the attraction.
"How long did I sleep?" she asked more from herself than him, stepping on her feet and starting towards the door, only to have him catch her hand.
"There's no hurry," Lucas told her, caressing the palm of her hand with his thumb. Her arm remained rigid though, she was at maximum distance, unwilling to come close. He took notice of this, wanted to contribute it to the delirium of sleep, yet knew she was wide awake.
"You don't understand. The guard was tight, so I went OTG with a worker crew. I was supposed to slip out before any of the crew noticed. If I'm gone for hours, they'll know something is wrong," she tried to explain, panic and fear seeping into her voice, no matter how calm she tried to keep it. Realizing she needed reassurance, Lucas let go of her hand and watched her walk to the entrance to witness the sunlight outside. He stood up himself shortly after.
Skye exhaled in relief upon realizing that the sun had barely moved. She still had time to get back. She turned to tell him that, finding him standing right behind her, focused on her. He had that same fascinated look as always, nothing else coming close to capturing his interest but her. Her skin felt hot suddenly, it yearned for his touch, for his reassurance. Words got stuck in her throat, until she realized what a nasty bruise he had on his forehead.
Her surprise became visible; Lucas saw it fade into worry, fear. He kissed her before she could ask him about it, pouring his emotions into that simple contact. Skye pushed into him aggressively, her hands tying around his neck, those petite fingers caressing his scars and the sensitive skin there. Her lips were full, inviting, but the skin was broken and she flinched when he tried to suck on her lower lip. She retreated with a wince, pain reminding her where she should've been.
Skye lingered near him though, unable to pull away from completely, even if she didn't touch him anymore. Lucas' stare remained fixated: powerful, passionate. She moved her head to look at his forehead again, how it was decorated by a swollen cut. "Some sort of komodo dragon," he explained, running his fingers through her hair.
He wore fingerless gloves and she found herself thinking how roguish he looked with the sleeves of his shirt rolled over his elbows and his dirty trousers. Handsome, but more like a diamond in the rough, whereas Skye herself was soft, clean and casual. The contrast between their appearances wasn't lost on him either; Lucas yearned for the chance to clean himself for good, get some new clothes and a shave. His stubble was attractive, but it irritated her skin whenever they touched.
He chuckled to himself, feeling the hammering headache that had come out of nowhere dissolve in her presence. She killed his pain, every kind of pain.
"Did you do it? Did it work?" he finally asked, incapable of holding himself back anymore. His pride needed this, this one success. It would wipe away the sacrifices and bring forth a new future for them both.
Skye swallowed away the dryness in her throat that almost made her lose her voice. "I reconciled your calculations," she told him, averting her eyes in guilt while his fingertips moved to her cheek. "You were right, they're sound."
His smile was bright, so pure. She hadn't seen such joy in anyone in a long time, almost childish elation. It deepened the void within her. She'd be the one to take this from him.
"Thank you, Bucket," he said, framing her face with both hands. He kissed her forehead gently, closing his eyes, thinking it was all over now. Whatever doubts he might've had vanished. "I knew I could trust you."
Skye enjoyed the feel of his lips, bemused by his presence, his love. "Lucas, I…," she tried to tell him, her voice diminished to a weak whisper. Even that was silenced when he pulled her in for another kiss, something deeper and stronger. His lips crushed hers, his tongue finding her flavor. She was all teeth and skin, the distant taste of apple lingering in her breath.
Lucas chuckled again, carefree as he tied his arms around her. "We'll need to get going, prep everything while there's still time," he explained, envisioning the future with hope for once.
"We?" she questioned, waking from her lustful slumber. The emotions crashed against her, a cold shower. She actually moved her hand between their bodies, locked her feet still when he blinked at her reservation and attempted to pull her close again. She needed distance to remain sober, to soldier through this.
"We," he stressed the word, thinking her tension was due to thinking they'd be apart again. "I'm not leaving you. I want you to see what you helped me accomplish. The calculations, they will make the portal go both ways."
She struggled against him again, pulling away from his arms. "I know Lucas, I figured it out," she then revealed in agony, crossing her arms across her chest.
Lucas seemed puzzled for a second, and then he admitted something, feeling a little bothered, "Forgive me, you're smarter than I give you credit for." He actually apologized, that tender tone of his causing further outrage in her. It was a silent rebellion building in her, feelings she couldn't express, not yet. She hoped he would piece it together, save her from having to say it.
"I won't go through without you, Bucket. We'll even take your mother; she can finally get the treatment she needs in 2149," he continued; only this time there was a hint of coercion. For a split second he reminded her of Mira, dangling her mother's treatment in her face, even when she knew he was doing it for them.
"We can't!" she snapped, her voice actually coming out stronger and louder than intended.
It made him frown, the tension was rising and his ability to grasp her weird behavior was diminishing. He didn't understand this at all. He'd planned it so well, so why was she opposing him? The tension bled into his expression, his face hardened, his eyes grew colder. He tilted his head as he approached her, but Skye withdrew as he advanced.
"I didn't bring the hard drive," she finally confessed with a heavy heart, hating herself that moment.
The furrows on his forehead thickened, his body language become more muddled, but clearly taut. Lucas could feel the pressure rising, the headache on his forehead becoming intense again. Mira's warning echoing in his mind, a broken record of his failure.
"Tell me what happened," he asked her with perfect, frightening clarity.
Skye stopped her retreat, knowing there was nowhere to hide. The shame grew thin, as did her self-accusations while she searched for the words. She found her anger, the harsh truth of her harrowing experience.
"I found you," she professed, "I know who you are."
TBC
Fandom: Terra Nova
Ship: Skye/Lucas
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: bad language, sexual situations, AU
Chapter: 6/?
Summary: Pre-Series. AU story. Skye meets a strange man at Snakehead Falls and ends up falling in love. But can happiness built on anonymity last, when the world around them is on fire?
Author's Note: I can barely my eyes open. This must be what insanity feels like.
Things Lost in the Fire
6. Caught, entangled, torn
It was more difficult to slip by their watch during the day than it was during the night. Skye found more patrols than usual surveying the perimeter, and the towers had more men too, eyeing the skies, searching for signals.
Somewhere by the tree line her ride was waiting, getting annoyed with just sitting. He probably feared Lucas enough to stick to his place; she wondered and walked past the guards with a smile, grabbing an apple from one of the booths at the market. She tossed payment to the clerk seconds later, sinking her teeth into the juicy flesh of the fruit and munching on it.
Skye sat down for a moment, supposedly enjoying the sunshine and her day off. In reality she was checking out her options, suspicious of everyone and everything that went on around her. Somewhere out here there was a chance she was missing: a hole in their security and awareness. She'd exploit it, see her mother and talk to Lucas, make him listen. Of course all of that was easier said than done, and she'd already wasted more time here than she would've liked.
She tossed the carcass of the apple over her shoulder, sucking on the last bits of the fruit while she contemplated further. The search for the spy was reaching its culmination, the net tightening day after day. She realized she hadn't really thought things that far, she'd just went along for the ride, sometimes actually finding enjoyment in the thrill and chase of her lifestyle. Most days it'd been the black hole sucking all life from her, but every once in awhile she'd let herself enjoy it. That day by the falls came to mind when she thought of such times, and the pleasant memories softened her smile, made it authentic.
For a lying bastard, Lucas Taylor was certainly someone who'd caught her attention and managed to hold onto it more than a passing moment. Now she had to slander him in her mind, distance herself from those raging emotions just to get by. If it was just them, it might've been different, but she had to carry so much more. It wasn't fair really.
Skye realized she hadn't really eaten anything today and considered grabbing another apple to sate her hunger, when she caught Josh walking by her, clad in dirty overalls. The hunger slipped her mind that instant and she shot up back on her feet, rushing after him. "Josh!" she called him playfully, and got him to turn around with a frown.
"Hey Skye," he said, showing some signs of surprise at seeing her. "I thought you'd be busy." She caught the trace of hurt in his voice and contributed it to the way she'd been acting lately. Skye shrugged it off though, uninterested in this fact.
"My plans changed," she smiled, trying to sound a bit apologetic. She brushed her hair behind her ear, pointing her eyes at his overalls and raising her eyebrows a bit. "Trying out a new look?"
Josh seemed to get over his initial moroseness and he actually smiled back at her already. "We're digging a new trench outside. Figured I'd help since no one was around to hang out with," he explained, clearly expecting extra credit for being a good soldier. Skye thought it was cute, but expected no less from anyone else, so it didn't really impress her.
"Can I help?" she inquired with amusement, hands behind her back and her body language giving all the signs for availability. One of the things that made her such a great liar was the way she pushed everything into physical form: her body reacted to her words and it gave the extra edge to convince others. Now she responded to his movement like an energetic, enthusiastic girl would.
"Sure, grab some clothes and a shuffle and I'll save a spot for you at the transport," Josh nodded, seemingly happy that she'd apparently overcome her earlier foul mood. Skye's smile widened, but not for the reasons he assumed, and she took off immediately to the direction he was pointing her at with a wink.
Twenty minutes later she was outside the gates with a legitimate alibi, listening to Josh's recent experiences at the colony, thinking she'd heard it all. Sure, he was a few years behind her and fresh, so it shouldn't have bothered her, but it did nevertheless. Skye would've been grateful to have siblings, parents, a normal life without complications and constant fear of exposure. Not so surprisingly Josh's complains seemed so small to her, so insignificant. But she nodded, threw in a comment or two to make it seem like she was listening, and ran her eyes through the layout of their work area.
The area was loosely guarded, a fact she found quite foolish, considering how she knew Sixers often hid in the tree line, observing what went on in Terra Nova. In her current plight though, she considered it a blessing. She'd barely dug anything yet, just followed Josh's example and played along. Gladly, Josh wasn't the type that paid much attention to what she did, especially when he was talking himself.
Skye spotted the foreman heading towards the opposite edge of their dig, and she stopped what she was doing, turning to Josh innocently. "I'd better check with the foreman, to make sure he noticed I tagged along and all," she noted, like the action was a pain. Josh didn't notice her excuse, as she'd suspected; he just continued his work, joking, "Let's hope he doesn't assign you to something else now that he has extra help."
And with that she slipped away, her steps feeling light in the wake of her success. She made sure no one was looking when she took a sharp turn and headed for the jungle, abandoning her shovel. Once she was out of sight, she wriggled out of her overalls, suddenly overcome with insecurity. She tried to rake her entangled hair straight, to wipe the perspiration from her cheeks and neck. And when she realized just how stupid that was, the tension in her stomach calmed a bit. It wasn't like she got to make a good impression this time.
It took her ten minutes to reach the rendezvous point by foot. As suspected her contact waited with a galled expression, hands folded across his chest. Clearly he was mired with his position as her protector, for she sensed he might've otherwise said a thing or two about her delay.
"Sorry," she mumbled to him, sliding her satchel off her shoulder and into her hand, as she climbed into the vehicle. Her driver didn't say anything though, just stepped inside as well and started the engine, quick to get them away. The drive was quiet; neither spoke nor saw the need to do so. Instead Skye fidgeted with the leash of her satchel, adjusting it to be longer and shorter again and again her mind struggling with the task ahead.
Eventually the ride was over, and she could see the camp appear into view behind the trees. They masked it, kept as little on the ground-level as possible, so that animals wouldn't wander into it. Everything was storaged in the tree houses, and the watchers moved soundlessly in the trees, always on the look-out for danger. There was kids in the Sixer camp as well, some born during their exile, and some who'd come along from Terra Nova. Before everything, some Sixers had actually adopted kids and then brought them here, as crazy as that was.
Skye thanked her driver for the ride, snagging her satchel and stepping outside as quickly as possible, wishing to end their time together. She fumbled a bit while stepping out of the car, but managed to stay on her feet. A sudden breath of fresh air brushed her hair to her face, forcing her to shake them off her eyes. No one seemed to pay attention to her however. Skye felt a rush of relief, for she was usually eyed critically and guided no matter where she went. This time it was like no one had really expected her.
She began walking towards the rope lift, expecting to be questioned or stopped before she could make it. It didn't happen. She got there just fine, and was pulled up by two Sixers, who apparently had the current shift. Even they didn't pay much attention to her, rather focusing on their game of chess. She noticed the pieces were carved by hand and had the most curious design. Neither of the men looked older than twenty, too young to be hired as infiltrators to paradise, but she supposed Lucas's employers had their means of recruiting.
"Where's Lucas?" she asked warily, holding onto her bag nervously. One of the men gave her a sideways glance, sighing, "Hasn't come back yet. We'll tell him where you are when he does."
The information struck her like an electric current running across her bloodstream. Suddenly she felt lonely, a dull pain in her heart ached after him. "I see," she responded, dispirited. "I'll go see my mom then."
The short distance between her and her mother's hut was longer than usual. She tried to focus on everything around her, the everyday life of the camp and its inhabitants, yet found everything meaningless. Why would've he left when he'd been waiting for her return so eagerly? Was it a blind spot in her plans? Would she have to wait for him for hours and risk exposure when they'd realize she had vanished from the dig site?
She noticed her mother was awake when she reached the entrance of the hut, and the realization washed the bad taste from her mouth. Skye approached her with an elated heart, her joy catching onto her mother when she too noticed she had a visitor. "Skye!" Deborah exclaimed, holding out her hands to embrace her daughter.
Skye moved next to her, kneeling by the bed and allowing herself to be held by her mother. It was different from the hug Tasha had given her, better somehow, like her mother withheld the true magic to unlock her hurt and confusion. It was meant to be a quick embrace, yet it turned into a drowning girl holding onto a branch, a connection to dry land. Her mother noticed the abrupt shift in her, the way she shook, and didn't let go, recognizing the agony in her daughter.
"Oh mom," she whispered, biting her lip, until she broke skin. A flood of blood filled her mouth, getting to realize just how desperately she was clinging onto her mother. Skye let go in shame, sucking on her lower lip that began to swell with pain almost immediately. She was sure that the guilt was all over her face, but she didn't care anymore. Perhaps it really was time.
"Skye what is wrong?" her mother asked, petting her hair with her fragile hand. Skye noted that she looked healthier than a few weeks ago, but she was still weak, so goddamn weak. There were days when she wondered whether she'd find her mother passed away some time, and if it'd be a relief somewhere deep down.
"I need to tell you something," Skye confessed, taking her mother's free hand onto hers and kissing it. She breathed a heavy breath, held onto the knowledge a little while longer, as her mother waited patiently for her to gather her thoughts. There was no judgment in Deborah Tate's eyes, just sadness, like she had expected this day.
"I've let you down, mom. I've lied, and it has to end," Skye explained, peering into her mother's eyes, hoping they would not turn her down in hate: that maybe truth was cleansing, that it purified her sins and finally brought her peace. If her mother could forgive her, maybe Lucas could too?
"I made a deal with Mira. It was the only way she would take you, give you the medicine." Deep down Deborah had anticipated something like this, had recognized that kindness had its price even in Paradise. She'd wanted to believe that the people caring for her were misunderstood, even as her reason had argued against it.
"I've been spying for them, giving info on Terra Nova and what goes on there. But I can't do it anymore, mom. I just can't. It's too much," Skye's words started to cling onto another, her voice low and tensed. Deborah could hear her despair; recognize how Skye was trying to tell her something others should not hear. It scared her.
Skye noticed the way her mother's hand fell from her face, how she struggled with the knowledge, how the light died in her eyes. It made the words so much harder to say. She clutched her mother's hand inside hers, hoping that her warmth would bring life back into her mother too.
"I can't keep lying, harming others just so you can be ok again. Because I don't think you're going to be ok," her voice trailed off, tears making their way into her eyes. They strung like hell, she tried to keep them back. It didn't fair to have to tell your own mother this, but she had to.
"Skye," her mother called her, seeing how Skye averted her teary eyes, unable to say what she wanted to her face. "Skye Alexandria Tate," she said again, this time with more presence, strength. It snapped Skye back, made her focus as the first tears ran across her cheeks.
"You're not doing this anymore," Deborah said, bringing her own hand on top of hers. There was no hurt or malice in her, nothing to indicate she would've taken Skye's words the wrong way. "I've been sick for a long time now, Bucket. It's not something you can fix, and you don't need to try anymore," she then continued, hoping to absolve the burden Skye had carried unbeknownst to her.
"I want you to go and never look back. I want you to tell Commander Taylor everything and leave me here," she then pleaded, a mother above all, even her own fear of death. She'd been in its grasp for a long time now, trying to fight for her baby. It just became clear to her that fighting wasn't an option if her every breath was paid with another life.
And Skye couldn't say anything to object, because it was what she'd wanted to hear for years now, secretly longing for her mother to just let her go. It made her selfish, a terrible child and human being, but the weight was so heavy. Despair had taken her so many nights. Only one thing had pierced that shroud of fear and loathing - Lucas.
"I've let you down," Skye whispered, squeezing her mother's hands, thinking how she couldn't even feel her heartbeat, even with her bulky veins pumping right beneath her fingers. "I can't leave you." She shook her head for effect, decisive eyes piercing her mother's.
But Deborah looked back at her kindly, smiling. "You're a good person Skye. I'm proud of you. But your future matters, not mine. You need to let go and be your own person."
The smell of her sickness was suddenly piercing, a sharp sensation. It made her head spin, forced her eyes shut. She coughed aggressively, realizing that Skye wrapped her arms around her mother, lifting her to a sitting position to help her breathing. The episode ended as quickly as it had started, but it only helped steel her resolve.
"Put me down, Bucket, and go," Deborah demanded with a hint of annoyance in her voice. It was so different from the way she usually talked to Skye, it actually reached her. Skye withdrew after helping her mother back on her back, yet she was unable to go. She didn't cry anymore, worry had overtaken her.
"I said go," Deborah repeated, an unheard of fierceness creeping into her voice. It was like a knife between them, twisting. Skye remembered this all too well, the fever was rising again and in its wake came the hallucinations and personality shifts. It was getting worse.
"I'll get you some medicine," Skye said, reaching for a bowl of water on the table, but her hand got slapped away with her mother, the small table the bowl rested on almost knocked over. Skye actually jumped a bit at the sudden contact, falling on her behind, eyes focused on her mother. Deborah's eyes were red, her skin yellow and feverish.
Skye saw her feet move, push beneath the blanket so that it shifted. Her mother had been a runner once; she'd had strong legs that carried her for great distances. One of the first things they'd done together as a family here had been to go hiking on one of the safer areas with other new pilgrims. Now her legs were bony, weak. The disease had eaten at her, taking even her ability to walk. And she was trying so hard now, just so she could push her away.
The silence between them made Skye understand finally. Her mother was serious, ravaged by this disease was no life worth living. She was done playing brave for her daughter, so she was showing Skye the truth. Once she saw it she could no longer deny it: their cure was only delaying the inevitable. Skye sat a few meters away from her mother, staring at the woman on her side, who was breathing with labor.
"I love you," she said, and dried her tears on her shirt, watching as her mother responded to the words with a waning smile. "Then leave me," she said, pulling the blank back over her feet. Deborah closed her eyes after that, waiting for sleep or death, whichever would arrive first.
Skye didn't move from her spot for several minutes. She tried to grasp everything that had just happened, the words that had been exchanged, and the glimpse of her mother's true condition. Skye had prepared herself for the worst so many times that now it didn't feel as terrifying anymore. Actually, she wondered if there was any chance for a happy ending.
It was when she realized her mother was back asleep, exhausted by her visit, when she finally stood up and walked away. Numbness followed those steps, her tears were dry. She didn't know what she was supposed to feel, yet she knew it wasn't this. Relief was probably the least important thing on that list, and she felt it whole heartedly.
Walking back to the men by the rope elevator, she fixed her appearance again, and asked them, "Where is Lucas?"
Again they focused on their game rather than her. A moment later one responded, "There's no telling when he'll be back."
Skye snorted with disbelief, a faint sting of cynicism making its way to her. "Fine then. Tell them I'll wait in his hut," she said, striding off while she still could. Maybe her anger was irrational, but she was tired of being abandoned by everyone she cared about.
Remembering the route from last night, she followed her memory and made her way to his hut. It was dark there, his notes hung all over the walls, reminding her of her betrayal to come. She felt an urge to tear them to pieces pass through her and then just exhaustion.
Noticing his bed in the corner, Skye moved towards it and slumped herself over the covers. His scent was all over them, it teased her, sparked the memories she kept closest. She wrapped his blanket on her, squeezing his pillow into her arms, and burying her head in it. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep.
-
"You should show that bump to someone," Mira muttered tensely, adjusting the strap of her gun while she eyed Lucas discreetly. All the others kept a small distance from them, as if sensing how riled up their fearless leader was. She barely noticed the difference, albeit had to admit she'd seen him on a better mood as well.
Lucas touched the dark red cut on his forehead again, this time more tentatively, knowing how much it would sting at contact. He couldn't quite stop touching it though, the ache it spread across his forehead made it difficult to ignore. It didn't bleed anymore, thankfully, but it would probably leave a distinct bruise. He'd been sloppy, stupid even for letting his thoughts wonder like that.
"I think I'll manage," he responded, eyes cast on their surroundings.
Mira found his grumpiness almost endearing, but denied such thoughts. There was nothing endearing about Lucas Taylor, a man willing to betray his own father even when he'd been handed the keys to paradise. Lucas was a predator at heart.
"You could have internal bleeding," she clarified her worry, stealing a glance at some of the others, who'd accompanied them to the hunt. No one else dared to speak to him this way. "And then we'd have no way home."
Lucas smiled at the thought lazily, having known there was a reason she insisted on accompanying him almost everywhere. Had their employer asked her to look after him, did they think he needed a babysitter? "At least it would be a peaceful way to die," he remarked, leaving her uncertain whether he actually carried such a death wish in his heart.
Mira signaled the others to drag the prey off and leave them. Lucas was already positioning himself on the lift, beckoning them to pull him up. He'd retire like always, sink into his dark thoughts and keep from others. She would see the light in his hut in the darkest night during the shift change and wonder silently if her own child would turn like that with her gone, so jaded and scarred.
"Fine then," she snorted, picking up something from her belt. It was a knife, smeared in blood. Mira wiped the blood away the best she could to the side of her pants before handing it over. Lucas took the object, finding small comfort in having it back. He must've dropped it when the creature had attacked, ramming against him. He hadn't intended to play bait, yet it had happened, leaving his life in the hands of the Sixers. And they'd come for him without hesitation, or expecting thanks. It was more than he'd expected.
Their eyes met for a moment, an understanding suddenly building between them. It was strange to be able to grasp one's meaning in full without words, almost surreal. Lucas broke off the eye contact a moment later, tugging at the rope. They began pulling him up almost instantly.
"Have them send her to me when she arrives," Lucas instructed calmly, still dangling the knife in his hand, while they pulled him up.
Mira thought about giving him a fake salute and realized she wasn't ready to tempt fate and his terrible mood swings, so she just walked away with a strangely pleased smirk. She was beginning to understand this beast called Lucas Taylor. And maybe he was beginning to understand the human race.
Lucas didn't think much when his feet finally touched the wooden surface of the platform up high. He nodded at the men, who eyed him nervously, and put the knife away calmly. He thought about checking up on Skye's mother, but realized he was unwilling to sit there and be evaluated. She'd found his interest in her daughter all too endearing the last time, and he saw no reason to be the one to tell her about them. He wasn't exactly what you would call a dream son-in-law.
"Taylor," one of the men called him and he turned his head with little curiosity. "The girl's waiting in your quarters," the guard them told him, causing him to snap awake right into this moment from his thoughts.
He gave back a half-hearted nod, quickening his paste as he hurried to his hut, fearing rather irrationally he might miss her. He'd lost all sense of time during their hunt, and the bang in the head hadn't helped with that either. Lucas wondered how she'd been able to pass the time, whether she'd been scared, and if she was safe. He was almost too protective of her, his adventurous Skye. Many times he'd wondered how he would keep his sanity if they were ever allowed to be together in a normal, open relationship. He might just have to close her inside a birdcage to make sure she'd stay still.
Lucas stepped inside his hut, making room for daylight to enter along his side. Disappointment washed through him, as he didn't see anything at first. The hut appeared untouched. Then he realized the dark shape slung over his bed, and begun a slow approach. She lay so still, sleeping peacefully. Lucas squatted next to her, observing her face and the expression of sheer exhaustion. He would let her sleep safely once they got back to 2149. There were no monsters there, nothing to interrupt her well-deserved rest. He brushed his hand against her wavy hair, forgetting the throbbing pain in his forehead for a moment.
Just looking at her exhilarated him, gave meaning to the long separation they had suffered through. "Wake up, Bucket," he called to her, enjoying how she pushed into his touch when she shifted in her sleep. His dirty hand cupped her cheek, leaving a tarnished taint there, a trace of blood and soil.
She turned on her back, unwilling to wake, to come to him. Lucas pulled his hand away to shake her awake, cruel desire telling to do the opposite, to claim her. He had all the chances later though; he didn't need to rush into things anymore. So his voice grew more distant, demanding, "Skye, wake up."
She woke up when he gripped her shoulder tightly, the sudden pressure pushing through her dreamless state. An annoyed frown decorated her face for a moment. Then she realized where she was and with whom. Skye stood up quickly, panicked eyes searching for a source of light. How could've she fallen asleep! How long had she slept?
Lucas observed her, relaxed and amused by her reflexes. She assumed the worst, ready to jump into battle, to fight the current. Soon she wouldn't have to live like that anymore.
Then her eyes were upon his, and she froze with shame for just a few seconds, before she started to make her way out of bed, her dire circumstances forcing her to deny the attraction.
"How long did I sleep?" she asked more from herself than him, stepping on her feet and starting towards the door, only to have him catch her hand.
"There's no hurry," Lucas told her, caressing the palm of her hand with his thumb. Her arm remained rigid though, she was at maximum distance, unwilling to come close. He took notice of this, wanted to contribute it to the delirium of sleep, yet knew she was wide awake.
"You don't understand. The guard was tight, so I went OTG with a worker crew. I was supposed to slip out before any of the crew noticed. If I'm gone for hours, they'll know something is wrong," she tried to explain, panic and fear seeping into her voice, no matter how calm she tried to keep it. Realizing she needed reassurance, Lucas let go of her hand and watched her walk to the entrance to witness the sunlight outside. He stood up himself shortly after.
Skye exhaled in relief upon realizing that the sun had barely moved. She still had time to get back. She turned to tell him that, finding him standing right behind her, focused on her. He had that same fascinated look as always, nothing else coming close to capturing his interest but her. Her skin felt hot suddenly, it yearned for his touch, for his reassurance. Words got stuck in her throat, until she realized what a nasty bruise he had on his forehead.
Her surprise became visible; Lucas saw it fade into worry, fear. He kissed her before she could ask him about it, pouring his emotions into that simple contact. Skye pushed into him aggressively, her hands tying around his neck, those petite fingers caressing his scars and the sensitive skin there. Her lips were full, inviting, but the skin was broken and she flinched when he tried to suck on her lower lip. She retreated with a wince, pain reminding her where she should've been.
Skye lingered near him though, unable to pull away from completely, even if she didn't touch him anymore. Lucas' stare remained fixated: powerful, passionate. She moved her head to look at his forehead again, how it was decorated by a swollen cut. "Some sort of komodo dragon," he explained, running his fingers through her hair.
He wore fingerless gloves and she found herself thinking how roguish he looked with the sleeves of his shirt rolled over his elbows and his dirty trousers. Handsome, but more like a diamond in the rough, whereas Skye herself was soft, clean and casual. The contrast between their appearances wasn't lost on him either; Lucas yearned for the chance to clean himself for good, get some new clothes and a shave. His stubble was attractive, but it irritated her skin whenever they touched.
He chuckled to himself, feeling the hammering headache that had come out of nowhere dissolve in her presence. She killed his pain, every kind of pain.
"Did you do it? Did it work?" he finally asked, incapable of holding himself back anymore. His pride needed this, this one success. It would wipe away the sacrifices and bring forth a new future for them both.
Skye swallowed away the dryness in her throat that almost made her lose her voice. "I reconciled your calculations," she told him, averting her eyes in guilt while his fingertips moved to her cheek. "You were right, they're sound."
His smile was bright, so pure. She hadn't seen such joy in anyone in a long time, almost childish elation. It deepened the void within her. She'd be the one to take this from him.
"Thank you, Bucket," he said, framing her face with both hands. He kissed her forehead gently, closing his eyes, thinking it was all over now. Whatever doubts he might've had vanished. "I knew I could trust you."
Skye enjoyed the feel of his lips, bemused by his presence, his love. "Lucas, I…," she tried to tell him, her voice diminished to a weak whisper. Even that was silenced when he pulled her in for another kiss, something deeper and stronger. His lips crushed hers, his tongue finding her flavor. She was all teeth and skin, the distant taste of apple lingering in her breath.
Lucas chuckled again, carefree as he tied his arms around her. "We'll need to get going, prep everything while there's still time," he explained, envisioning the future with hope for once.
"We?" she questioned, waking from her lustful slumber. The emotions crashed against her, a cold shower. She actually moved her hand between their bodies, locked her feet still when he blinked at her reservation and attempted to pull her close again. She needed distance to remain sober, to soldier through this.
"We," he stressed the word, thinking her tension was due to thinking they'd be apart again. "I'm not leaving you. I want you to see what you helped me accomplish. The calculations, they will make the portal go both ways."
She struggled against him again, pulling away from his arms. "I know Lucas, I figured it out," she then revealed in agony, crossing her arms across her chest.
Lucas seemed puzzled for a second, and then he admitted something, feeling a little bothered, "Forgive me, you're smarter than I give you credit for." He actually apologized, that tender tone of his causing further outrage in her. It was a silent rebellion building in her, feelings she couldn't express, not yet. She hoped he would piece it together, save her from having to say it.
"I won't go through without you, Bucket. We'll even take your mother; she can finally get the treatment she needs in 2149," he continued; only this time there was a hint of coercion. For a split second he reminded her of Mira, dangling her mother's treatment in her face, even when she knew he was doing it for them.
"We can't!" she snapped, her voice actually coming out stronger and louder than intended.
It made him frown, the tension was rising and his ability to grasp her weird behavior was diminishing. He didn't understand this at all. He'd planned it so well, so why was she opposing him? The tension bled into his expression, his face hardened, his eyes grew colder. He tilted his head as he approached her, but Skye withdrew as he advanced.
"I didn't bring the hard drive," she finally confessed with a heavy heart, hating herself that moment.
The furrows on his forehead thickened, his body language become more muddled, but clearly taut. Lucas could feel the pressure rising, the headache on his forehead becoming intense again. Mira's warning echoing in his mind, a broken record of his failure.
"Tell me what happened," he asked her with perfect, frightening clarity.
Skye stopped her retreat, knowing there was nowhere to hide. The shame grew thin, as did her self-accusations while she searched for the words. She found her anger, the harsh truth of her harrowing experience.
"I found you," she professed, "I know who you are."
TBC