Terra Nova - Things Lost in the Fire ch9 [Skye/Lucas]
Title: Things Lost in the Fire
Fandom: Terra Nova
Ship: Skye/Lucas
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: bad language, sexual situations, AU
Chapter: 9/?
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: Yay, we're actually moving on faster than expected (even if this story was hijacked and my 5 chapter plan turned into a 10 chapter plan).
Things Lost in the Fire
9. Something is broken
She didn't know how she survived the night. No one visited her after Taylor had gone, which left her alone in her cell, suffering through the quiet. Only the quiet was superficial; beneath it laid the noise, the thoughts, the feelings and they had her attention fully. She turned and twisted, tried to understand father and son, mother and daughter, a part of her frightened to sleep, scared of waking up to a changed world.
Things had been clear before: she had a home she was forced to work against, a man she was torn away from, a father figure she loved but could not confide in, and a dying mother she wanted to save more than anything. Now everything was backwards: the home she'd had rejected her, she'd pushed away the man she loved herself, choosing to confide in the father figure she could only disappoint and the dying mother had ended up saving the remnants of her childhood.
Did doing the right thing always hurt this much? Had there been an alternative she could've chosen? The questions kept her awake in the dark, listening to hum of the air conditioning, smelling the crisp scent of concrete dust that floated in the air. Restless sleep claimed her eventually, uncertainty bleeding into her dreams and heart.
The next time she woke up was when she had another visitor. Elizabeth Shannon arrived to examine her condition as Taylor had promised. She didn't speak much, as they were under constant observation by the guard, who stayed in the room with them. Skye suspected Taylor had strictly forbidden Elizabeth from asking any questions pertaining to her betrayal. He sought to isolate her, keep the damage to a minimum. It was good thinking, strategically that is.
Elizabeth examined her with a frown, acting quiet and withdrawn; clearly bothered by the circumstances they were meeting under. She sprayed something over the bruises on Skye's wrists, taking the ache away and numbing the skin, then moving on to the little cuts and scratches the fall had given her. She cleaned all the scrapes and checked all the bruises calmly, asking Skye whether she hurt whenever she moved on to a new spot. At one point she actually needed to apply a local anesthetic to remove something from one of the cuts, a fragment of sorts that was dug deep into Skye's flesh. It didn't feel like anything though, and it was over relatively quickly.
Afterwards Skye felt stupid for not realizing how hurt she'd been, and she was actually glad for Elizabeth for a moment there.
Once done with that, Elizabeth pulled out a small case and opened it. She had a syringe with her, a shot Skye needed to take just in case, having been to such close proximity to the Sixers and her sick mother. Receiving her patient's permission, she made the shot to Skye's exposed pelvis, proceeding with precision and haste.
And after an uncomfortable silence, she asked Skye if there was anything else that needed to be checked. Something in her tone alerted Skye, told her that Elizabeth was concerned of her lack of contraception. Skye just settled to shake her head listlessly, unwilling to go through the uncomfortable examinations and questionnaire. Her body was no one else's business right now.
Her answer only made the furrows in her doctor's forehead deepen though. She glanced at the soldier in the corridor and walked up to the bars, asking politely for him to leave for the duration of the examination. Conflicted between duty and the social norms, he stood there for minute, eyes set in Skye's sitting figure, her visible apathy an interest to him. Then he confirmed instructions by radio and left when he was told it was alright.
"I already told you I don't want any examination," Skye complained, as Elizabeth made her way to sit next to Skye on the bunk bed.
The older woman took her hand gently; her earlier coldness replaced my almost motherly worry. Taylor's instructions raced through her head, whispering fears into her mind. "Skye," she pleaded kindly, "I need you to be honest with me. Did you and Josh… were you intimate?"
Skye's eyes snapped into her, this ridiculous claim bewildering her. "No," she shook her head, feeling even more uncomfortable. Her hand withdrew from Elizabeth's. "Never," Skye whispered, her voice convincing the worried mother beside her.
However this raised new questions. "But Taylor said I needed to make sure you were… Skye, they didn't touch did they?" Such concern might've touched Skye on any other day, but today she could only think how wrong this was, having this conversation with this woman. Elizabeth had been nothing but good to her, so putting her in this position was something Skye hadn't wanted.
She tilted her head, an expression of disillusion all over her face. "If the question was have I had sex lately, then the answer is no. Not with your son, not with anyone. Otherwise, it is still none of your business," she spoke with trouble, trying to harden herself even when her privacy was wounded like this. But the hurt in her voice was visible; it only aroused Elizabeth's trepidation.
"Skye, don't tell me you did this for someone, a man?" Elizabeth inquired, disbelieving, hoping Skye would prove her wrong.
"I didn't start this for him, but I put an end to it for him," Skye confessed, her love visible and fragile.
"Who?" Elizabeth asked, and then it suddenly made sense: The way Taylor had been so shaken yesterday, the way Jim had kept on inquiring whether she'd spoken about Taylor's son in front of Skye or Josh: Taylor's son Lucas, who was working with the Sixers according to Jim.
"Taylor's son?" she asked, shaken by the surprise.
Skye turned to look straight into Elizabeth now, their gazes locked together. She looked so calm, almost like nothing could surprise her anymore. "Why else would've he asked you to do a check up?" Skye asked gravely, wondering if the news would spread across Terra Nova now.
Skye Tate, not only a traitor, but a Sixer slut too, screwing with the Commander's unhinged son behind his back. That was all they would see, all their minds could understand, where they were just people who happened to meet one sunny day in her mind. Lucas wasn't inheritably evil and Taylor wasn't all good either - that's what made everything so hard.
"I'm so sorry Skye," Elizabeth said, shifting, and then suddenly pulling Skye to a careful embrace. Her sympathy hadn't been what Skye had expected; it caught her off-guard. She felt so small and young in Elizabeth's embrace, for a moment she forgot she was supposed to be a villainess, not a misguided girl.
The soldier was knocking on the door seconds later, calling for permission to re-enter. Elizabeth pulled away reluctantly and rose to her feet before giving him permission. After that they were in back in their roles, a disapproving doctor and a disinclined prisoner.
Elizabeth left some minutes later, shrouded in the same thoughtful apathy that had taken hold of Skye. She didn't utter a goodbye for her sole comforter, just leaned back to the wall, counting the tiles on the opposite side behind the bars.
She was beginning to realize why prison was a punishment. This concrete pit she'd been thrown in was already too small, too crude for her senses. Skye longer for the outside air: the sounds and smells of the jungle. Curiously, she could only truly appreciate freedom now that it was lost to her. Trading the numbing environment of her cell to a vibrant memory of the world outside, Skye sunk into an experience, recalling every manner in which she'd lived before, hoping it would be enough to sustain her through this nightmare.
Some time later a familiar figure entered her cell, the sound of his boots creaking as he walked, waking her effectively from her thoughts. Taylor was back, the skin of an interrogator shed, and the man she knew in his stead. Eyes brushing over his mid-section, she quickly realized his holster was empty; his pose a little less formal. What was up with that?
He stopped by her cell, hung on his own regret, his shortcomings. "Skye," he said softly, a familiar tone consisting of affection and discomfort reminding her of the way things had once been. It was a good sign.
She didn't know what to say, so she just said what she wanted to. This wasn't her game, not her war. Skye didn't see herself as the pawn that would solve this game by travelling tirelessly to the other side of the chessboard.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you," she apologized, realizing she'd only wanted to hurt him back the only way she knew she could. Saying that Lucas didn't care - that it was an act - had really gotten to her. It had driven her to an ugly place, somewhere she didn't wish to go again.
"It's alright," he comforted her, pleased to see her more like she'd been before everything. Her straightforwardness had really set her apart from the other children, her ability to take responsibility of her own mistakes. Taylor recalled taking a liking to her even when her parents - no, her father - had still been alive.
"I was out of line," he then confessed, admitting his own mistakes in her wake.
"I could've told you about it better, but I didn't know how. He hates you so much," Skye spoke with a distressed frown, slipping back into pain, into the moment where she was stuck holding the weight of the world, keeping everything together. "But it's not my place to ask why," she admitted, understanding the line between them.
Taylor drew in a heavy breath, leaning against the bars with his hand between them and his forehead. He couldn't say it, but it showed all over his face: something inside him was broken, a piece still missing from whatever had happened between father and son. She could tell he honestly didn't know how to fix it.
"We do need to talk about something though," she whispered, her voice muffled, weak.
"Lucas," Taylor agreed.
"Lucas and I," Skye corrected him, standing up from her bed, thumbs sliding in the cuffs of her pants as she approached him. "It happened whether you wanted it or not."
He pulled his forehead away from his hand, looking straight at her now. He was listening, fully intent on hearing everything this time, in spite of his impulses. Her behavior contradicted the rumors that had started spreading, rumors he'd tried to weed the best he could, but found himself powerless in their face. Skye wasn't stupid, but she was fiercely dedicated to her cause. She didn't have to make up lies about her mother being still alive, when her own actions supported the theory that she'd been an unwitting ally, only seeking to keep a loved one safe.
"Elizabeth told me to take it easy on you. She felt I should try and understand," Taylor explained the shift in his behavior, clearly sorry for what he'd put her through. Skye didn't know what Elizabeth had said exactly, but she assumed Elizabeth had seen enough to recognize someone unhappily in love.
"The timing was right," Skye told him, trying to reach for something inside him, something cold and long forgotten that might recognize attraction and loneliness and see how they would lead to feelings. "I needed closeness and he needed somebody. I could tell he was lonely, that he worked mercilessly on those numbers, dedicating his days to cracking them."
Yet hearing it wasn't easy, Taylor shifted more than once. He held his ground though, keeping to his decision. All he could see was the boy, who'd left five years ago, unable to shoot his own father even when he'd plotted to overthrow him. Lucas had fixated on his work, withdrawn from all other social contact, until worry had driven Taylor near insane. He'd only brought his son here so he might have a chance at a better life, so they might have a chance to connect again. Thinking back, Taylor had often wondered if exile had been the right choice.
"Your son isn't a monster. I can't explain it, but I know he can come around," she continued, incapable of expressing herself clearly. The words fled her, she couldn't grasp them.
"I know," Taylor responded, recognizing this as well. "But there is only so much I can do, until we reach a point where it's impossible for Lucas to come around."
And that was what she feared too. Lucas was close to that place; he was lingering at its doorstep because of her. She knew he was divided in two: the cruel man thrown in the jungle and the boy, who wanted to be loved. One side would win out eventually, and the decision would mean the end of Terra Nova or the Sixers. Yet she bled a little inside when she heard Taylor say it; that there was a chance Lucas would fulfill his dark fantasy.
"I won't let that happen!" she exclaimed, realizing only a moment later how foolish it was to say so. She was locked here, held prisoner and she would be trialed and condemned any day now. Not to mention the fact that she had walked out on him, probably only reinforcing his belief that he could only destroy the things he loved.
Taylor didn't say anything and he didn't need to. Skye knew she wasn't going to be a special case, she couldn't. He needed to judge her the same as he would anyone else, based solely on her actions. She lowered her eyes from him, twitching her mouth. "You haven't decided on my fate yet, have you?"
"It's not that simple," he told her, pained by his position that had already forced him to denounce one child. By miracle he'd had another chance at parenting, only to find her a stranger and in the same position as Lucas had been. The echoes of the past wouldn't leave him alone, they rippled through time.
"I've received some requests from… people wanting to see you," Taylor then changed the subject subtly, hoping she would leave at that for now.
"I don't want to see anyone," Skye frowned; her voice quivered a bit as she refused his kindness. She wasn't ready to see anyone, not Josh, not Tasha, not anyone. All the roads lead to Lucas, her reasoning for her actions was tied to him and sharing this secret would be too hard.
"Are you sure?" he had to ensure she knew what she was saying. He couldn't release her from her cell, not for awhile. The outrage wasn't that bad, but some people were very vocal about their opinions on how she should be punished. He had to treat her the same as Curran.
"I'm sure," Skye rolled her eyes, evading his question by folding her arms across her chest, feeling the chill creep up on her. "Are we done?" she asked a second later, sensing he was slipping away from the now.
Taylor however was contemplating on telling her, not able to go on with her in the dark, thinking horrible things of him. He wondered if she could understand the choices of a desperate man and forgive him when his own son couldn't. Seeing her look at him with such hatred before, yelling at him - it had really taken him back, he'd seen Lucas in her so clearly then. He couldn't afford to repeat the mistakes of the past, or she'd slip away too.
"My family was among the first settlers in Somalia. We'd fought a long bloody war for that land, and I was happy to see my son and wife again," he told her with a heavy heart. "However, the rebels learned where we were setting up, and they hit us back hard, killing most, but sparing few."
Skye sunk into his words, recalling the lessons she'd attended in school, the brief mentions of the war back in Somalia. It had been a bloody affair, something truly horrendous, a reminder of how humanity was capable of pure madness.
"I was one of their targets, a man with leverage and rank. So they spared my family and made me choose between the life of my son and my wife," He recalled with detachment, yet she could tell he was affected; his voice lacked its usual flow. Skye actually gasped when she realized where this was going.
"I tried everything, even offering them my life in their stead. But it was about a lesson, about power. Ayani, my wife, begged me to pick Lucas and Lucas demanded me to save his mother. Imagine that, a boy of only fourteen, ready to die for his parent," Taylor explained with disdain, voicing his memories in the light of the present.
"Of course, there was ever only one option. Saving Ayani would've damaged us both, I knew it then and I know it now. I couldn't let my son die, even if we didn't get along, I just couldn't. But to him it was betrayal, because he loved his mother more. And I could never replace her."
He didn't say any more, and he didn't have to. Skye listened numbly, Lucas' voice echoing in her head. It was the animal instinct to protect your offspring, your future, yet she couldn't imagine a worse position to be in. The choice had to haunt him, especially when it had torn Lucas apart so. She inched closer and then again, treading carefully until she was by the bars, fingers clasping onto them, eyes upon him patiently.
"It's not your fault," Skye said, hoping it would mean something, even a little.
Taylor noticed how the distance melted, how she reached out to him despite everything. He withdrew his hand from the bars, and stood in front of her, finally placing his hands on hers. "I failed my son," he confessed, truly believing it in all his heart.
Then his radio hissed, and a familiar voice called to him: Lieutenant Washington. "Sir, we have a situation at the gate," she called to him timidly, alerting him immediately.
"I'll be right there," Taylor promised, pulling away from Skye to speak to his radio.
"I need to go."
She nodded at him, understanding. They had all the time in the world now; Things had a genuine shot of getting better before they could get worse.
"Go," she prompted him, retreating back to her bed as he set off, leaving her alone again.
Taylor emerged from the brig, moving with haste towards the gates. He received his weapons back from the guard, merely snatching them wordlessly as he passed the guard by. In a minute he was already joined by soldiers, reports were spoken, but they didn't quite reach his mind. His thoughts were still with Skye, on the way she'd changed right before his eyes. The hardest part of their situation wasn't her betrayal, but the knowledge that she had grown into an extraordinary young woman, and she didn't deserve the harsh punishment that would befall her.
Washington walked up to him, her expression serious and hand already resting over her gun on her hips. "We have Sixers outside the gates, sir," she said promptly, succeeding in making him quicken his paste even more as they hurried onwards together.
"Since when? And what the hell do they want?" Taylor snapped, knowing this was no accident. They had to know he'd caught their spy. Mira would undoubtedly try something to fix this, some kind of maneuver she'd been saving for a special occasion.
"Apparently they want to talk to you," Washington explained warily, not knowing how to break it to him. The Sixer she'd been communicating with was none other than his son, Lucas, who seemed as dangerous and driven as ever.
They reached their destination finally, a full unit of soldiers reacting to Taylor's presence with a salute when they passed them by. Taylor ignored them and even Washington just gave them a quick nod, signaling them to reach for their weapons with her hand. Her breath got stuck in her throat some seconds later when Taylor came to an abrupt halt, upon noticing the man that stood between Terra Nova's gates and the crowd of Sixers in the distance - it was Lucas.
Taylor couldn't make out the details of his face at first, yet he recognized the clothes, the crooked posture and the silhouette. He had not seen his son for five years and during that time Lucas had grown into a man, but so much had remained the same. Suddenly Taylor was reminded of Mira's short report on Lucas some time back, when the two of them had had to join forces to stay alive in the merciless jungle. Mira had told him Lucas was doing fine, that he was well and capable of taking care of himself. Taylor hadn't fully believed her then, but he did now. The jungle had carved out the last bits of softness from his son, leaving behind something stronger, something hardened.
"He said he wants to talk to you," Washington filled in, having already tested the waters. Lucas had been calm and uninterested in her, patiently waiting for his father. She had found his new self quite disturbing, because the only thing that had held Lucas back in the day had been his impatient character. Now that it was gone, what was holding him back anymore?
"Fine," Taylor agreed, taking a step forward with some difficulty. "Have your guns fixed at them, I'm going in."
He started walking despite Washington's muffled reaction of shock, and he didn't stop even when she started giving out orders, assuming control as he walked into the serpent's nest. The walk wasn't that long; Lucas was waiting for him half-way, also armed and ready. Taylor had ample time to examine his son though: see the scars come into view, the tan, his unshaved face, the creases on his forehead and the weapons he carried.
Guns were fixed on them from both sides, Taylor's men by the gate and Lucas's backup that consisted of four vehicles and ten men. But neither was worried about being caught in the crossfire, they both knew the real danger was between the two of them. Disillusioned by his son's unexpected return, Taylor stopped at a small distance from Lucas, unsure what he was expected of. He chose to greet his son.
"It's good to see you son," Taylor said peacefully, noticing how his sincerity seemed to annoy Lucas rather than act as a peace gesture. Of course such was only to be expected of their reunion.
"I'm not here for that, old man," Lucas stated with arrogance rippling through his hostile voice. He held himself with confidence, withstanding his father's company with his goal in mind.
"What is it then?" Taylor asked, eyeing the Sixers in the background. He spotted Mira amidst them, sitting in the front seat of a rover. She was talking to someone, appearing almost displeased with the current turn of events.
Lucas snorted, barely containing his contempt. "I'm here to trade," he announced.
It surprised Taylor, he didn't think the Sixers could have anything he would want, his son non-withstanding. He was willing to listen though. "What could you possibly have that I would want?" he responded carefully.
Something flickered in Lucas' eyes, a tender glow. "You know by now that we have medicine for Sincyllic Fever," he explained casually, as if it was common knowledge all of the sudden. "Unfortunately it is not perfected, and we have a terminal patient, who needs it."
Taylor was filling the gaps himself, unsure how Lucas would benefit from this trade. It was certain that he couldn't outright refuse this chance though, as the disease was still one of the biggest causes of death in Terra Nova.
"You'll give us the medicine, and we will complete it for you?" Taylor questioned, watching as Lucas nodded slightly as response.
"And you will take Deborah Tate from our hands," Lucas then added sharply, "She isn't of any use to us anymore."
Confirmation of Skye's words came crashing at Taylor; he could barely hide how important this was to him, to know she wasn't lying. Something felt amiss here, however, Taylor could tell this wasn't everything.
"And?" he asked, raising a brow suspiciously.
Lucas smirked with sinister charm, then adding, "I would also want our girl back."
There was nothing tender about the way he spoke of Skye, and yet Taylor just knew Skye had been telling the truth about her relations with Lucas. He knew his son better than anyone, knew the little tells Lucas had. Right now Lucas appeared the same as before, but not quite. His gaze was restless; he had trouble keeping his eyes on his father. Taylor could tell Lucas was strained.
"What would you do with a spy, whose cover has been blown?" Taylor commented, as if he didn't know what this was about. Mockery bled into his voice, alerting Lucas slightly.
A moment later a knowing smile spread across his face and Lucas removed his hand from his pocket, chuckling lightly.
"So she told you?" he murmured with amusement, finding this turn of events unbelievable. He hadn't actually believed Skye could go through with it and knowing she had made him respect her more.
"How does it feel old man? Knowing she's mine and will always be?" Lucas questioned curiously. He spoke as if it was a competition between the two of them about whoever got to hold Skye's affection. Taylor noticed this immediately, and it troubled him further. He didn't see the chance of redemption in his son that Skye did. Perhaps it was all a game to Lucas?
"What if she doesn't want to?" Taylor countered harshly, catching onto Lucas' insecurity for a moment. He saw Lucas flinch, a nagging suspicion eating at him, and found it quite curious.
"We can always ask her," Lucas suggested viciously, brushing off his father's attempts to shake him.
Taylor sighed, unwilling to spar verbally with his son. Of course the decision would be Skye's, but he was sure she would say 'yes' when Lucas had placed her mother as bait. And Lucas obviously knew this as well, which only angered Taylor further. He took a step closer, tensing all around.
"I don't know what you've been telling that girl, but she deserves better, son, a hell of a lot better than you can offer," he whispered harshly, hoping no one else would hear them.
His words sunk into Lucas with precision, sharp and painful like bombshells. Lucas' grin turned grim, his lips twitched uncontrollably. His façade was shaking; the real him wanting to emerge to punch his father down, yet he recognized it would be an act of war and petty at that. He'd survived without his father's approval for five years, and he didn't need it now or so he tried to convince himself. Deep down Lucas had been waiting for his father to belittle him, to say he wasn't worthy of her, all the while hoping that maybe his father wouldn't go there, that maybe he could have this one good thing he could agree with his father about.
"There's no room for me in your perfect world, father," Lucas responded, his voice dripping with malice. "And by the looks of it, neither has she."
He knew what rope to pull, what words to pick to cause the most harm. His father's sense of justice was unwavering, and Skye had acted against it. So really in this case, Lucas was just making it easier for Taylor to do his duty. "Why not just give her back to me where she belongs?"
The charge between them was stronger now; it was emitting sparks.
"I'll agree to Deborah and the medicine," Taylor declared. "I'll even add some basic medical supplies," he then added.
Lucas waited for the rest, but his father remained silent and after awhile Lucas gritted his teeth in anger, sizzling with this rejection. "You want to keep your prisoner? Punish her for betraying you?" he spat out angrily, momentarily frightened with the prospect of Taylor actually harming her.
"Why would you keep her? She stabbed you in the back! Just give her to me!" Lucas then roared, breaking his calm before his father.
And this convinced Taylor that it was serious; he could see the need, the obsession in Lucas' eyes. Lucas clenched his hands into fists, barely keeping still. His smile became strained, his jaw tensed, his entire being looked alert all of the sudden. Overall he reminded Taylor more of an animal than a man, a grief-struck beast.
"Would you really let her mother suffer without treatment?" Taylor asked, testing the waters.
"If she dies, it's on you," Lucas responded gravely, his hands itching for the feel of steel in them. But he tried to remain civil, to keep himself in check. He recalled all too vividly how Mira had tried to argue him out of showing himself for this same reason, and breaking would only prove her point.
Lucas wasn't budging at all, Taylor realized to his disappointment, finding it strange how Lucas had come all this way to claim her even with his master plan being near complete. Taylor touched his pocket tentatively; remember that the hard drive was still there. He then pulled it out slowly, watching Lucas' eyes widen in anxiety, as he realized what his father was holding.
"I got this from Skye," Taylor said matter-of-factly, quickly getting rebuffed, "No, you didn't."
Lucas's denial came without pause, without a break for thought. He believed in her, knew she couldn't have handed it over, not when she knew what it meant. Taylor smiled, admitting, "No, I didn't."
He then dropped the drive by his feet and grabbed his gun, shooting the drive to pieces. Lucas staggered as the gun shot sounded, acting as if he'd been hit himself. Gladly their spectators saw Taylor's gun was pointed at the ground, even if this incident made everyone a bit more trigger-happy than before.
Lucas felt a piece of him fall off, as his father butchered his work - again - like it meant nothing. The shock hit him all over, really getting to him. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting at the man before him.
"Now you have no way back," Taylor explained, putting his gun back in its holster. "Do you still want her, son? Will you take her to the jungle to live like you have, like ghosts?" Bitterness was evident in his voice, his whole being. It wasn't just the fact that Lucas was the one taking her away; it was also the primitive protection he could offer her, the lack of medicine, decent accommodations, constant danger and the less than attractive company Lucas would place her in.
Taylor's bitterness only proved to Lucas he'd won though; it removed his anxiety, as he recognized Taylor was grasping at straws.
"I don't need that," Lucas said coldly, "But I need her."
He then turned around. "You have one hour. Bring her to us, or you'll be sorry."
TBC
Fandom: Terra Nova
Ship: Skye/Lucas
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: bad language, sexual situations, AU
Chapter: 9/?
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: Yay, we're actually moving on faster than expected (even if this story was hijacked and my 5 chapter plan turned into a 10 chapter plan).
Things Lost in the Fire
9. Something is broken
She didn't know how she survived the night. No one visited her after Taylor had gone, which left her alone in her cell, suffering through the quiet. Only the quiet was superficial; beneath it laid the noise, the thoughts, the feelings and they had her attention fully. She turned and twisted, tried to understand father and son, mother and daughter, a part of her frightened to sleep, scared of waking up to a changed world.
Things had been clear before: she had a home she was forced to work against, a man she was torn away from, a father figure she loved but could not confide in, and a dying mother she wanted to save more than anything. Now everything was backwards: the home she'd had rejected her, she'd pushed away the man she loved herself, choosing to confide in the father figure she could only disappoint and the dying mother had ended up saving the remnants of her childhood.
Did doing the right thing always hurt this much? Had there been an alternative she could've chosen? The questions kept her awake in the dark, listening to hum of the air conditioning, smelling the crisp scent of concrete dust that floated in the air. Restless sleep claimed her eventually, uncertainty bleeding into her dreams and heart.
The next time she woke up was when she had another visitor. Elizabeth Shannon arrived to examine her condition as Taylor had promised. She didn't speak much, as they were under constant observation by the guard, who stayed in the room with them. Skye suspected Taylor had strictly forbidden Elizabeth from asking any questions pertaining to her betrayal. He sought to isolate her, keep the damage to a minimum. It was good thinking, strategically that is.
Elizabeth examined her with a frown, acting quiet and withdrawn; clearly bothered by the circumstances they were meeting under. She sprayed something over the bruises on Skye's wrists, taking the ache away and numbing the skin, then moving on to the little cuts and scratches the fall had given her. She cleaned all the scrapes and checked all the bruises calmly, asking Skye whether she hurt whenever she moved on to a new spot. At one point she actually needed to apply a local anesthetic to remove something from one of the cuts, a fragment of sorts that was dug deep into Skye's flesh. It didn't feel like anything though, and it was over relatively quickly.
Afterwards Skye felt stupid for not realizing how hurt she'd been, and she was actually glad for Elizabeth for a moment there.
Once done with that, Elizabeth pulled out a small case and opened it. She had a syringe with her, a shot Skye needed to take just in case, having been to such close proximity to the Sixers and her sick mother. Receiving her patient's permission, she made the shot to Skye's exposed pelvis, proceeding with precision and haste.
And after an uncomfortable silence, she asked Skye if there was anything else that needed to be checked. Something in her tone alerted Skye, told her that Elizabeth was concerned of her lack of contraception. Skye just settled to shake her head listlessly, unwilling to go through the uncomfortable examinations and questionnaire. Her body was no one else's business right now.
Her answer only made the furrows in her doctor's forehead deepen though. She glanced at the soldier in the corridor and walked up to the bars, asking politely for him to leave for the duration of the examination. Conflicted between duty and the social norms, he stood there for minute, eyes set in Skye's sitting figure, her visible apathy an interest to him. Then he confirmed instructions by radio and left when he was told it was alright.
"I already told you I don't want any examination," Skye complained, as Elizabeth made her way to sit next to Skye on the bunk bed.
The older woman took her hand gently; her earlier coldness replaced my almost motherly worry. Taylor's instructions raced through her head, whispering fears into her mind. "Skye," she pleaded kindly, "I need you to be honest with me. Did you and Josh… were you intimate?"
Skye's eyes snapped into her, this ridiculous claim bewildering her. "No," she shook her head, feeling even more uncomfortable. Her hand withdrew from Elizabeth's. "Never," Skye whispered, her voice convincing the worried mother beside her.
However this raised new questions. "But Taylor said I needed to make sure you were… Skye, they didn't touch did they?" Such concern might've touched Skye on any other day, but today she could only think how wrong this was, having this conversation with this woman. Elizabeth had been nothing but good to her, so putting her in this position was something Skye hadn't wanted.
She tilted her head, an expression of disillusion all over her face. "If the question was have I had sex lately, then the answer is no. Not with your son, not with anyone. Otherwise, it is still none of your business," she spoke with trouble, trying to harden herself even when her privacy was wounded like this. But the hurt in her voice was visible; it only aroused Elizabeth's trepidation.
"Skye, don't tell me you did this for someone, a man?" Elizabeth inquired, disbelieving, hoping Skye would prove her wrong.
"I didn't start this for him, but I put an end to it for him," Skye confessed, her love visible and fragile.
"Who?" Elizabeth asked, and then it suddenly made sense: The way Taylor had been so shaken yesterday, the way Jim had kept on inquiring whether she'd spoken about Taylor's son in front of Skye or Josh: Taylor's son Lucas, who was working with the Sixers according to Jim.
"Taylor's son?" she asked, shaken by the surprise.
Skye turned to look straight into Elizabeth now, their gazes locked together. She looked so calm, almost like nothing could surprise her anymore. "Why else would've he asked you to do a check up?" Skye asked gravely, wondering if the news would spread across Terra Nova now.
Skye Tate, not only a traitor, but a Sixer slut too, screwing with the Commander's unhinged son behind his back. That was all they would see, all their minds could understand, where they were just people who happened to meet one sunny day in her mind. Lucas wasn't inheritably evil and Taylor wasn't all good either - that's what made everything so hard.
"I'm so sorry Skye," Elizabeth said, shifting, and then suddenly pulling Skye to a careful embrace. Her sympathy hadn't been what Skye had expected; it caught her off-guard. She felt so small and young in Elizabeth's embrace, for a moment she forgot she was supposed to be a villainess, not a misguided girl.
The soldier was knocking on the door seconds later, calling for permission to re-enter. Elizabeth pulled away reluctantly and rose to her feet before giving him permission. After that they were in back in their roles, a disapproving doctor and a disinclined prisoner.
Elizabeth left some minutes later, shrouded in the same thoughtful apathy that had taken hold of Skye. She didn't utter a goodbye for her sole comforter, just leaned back to the wall, counting the tiles on the opposite side behind the bars.
She was beginning to realize why prison was a punishment. This concrete pit she'd been thrown in was already too small, too crude for her senses. Skye longer for the outside air: the sounds and smells of the jungle. Curiously, she could only truly appreciate freedom now that it was lost to her. Trading the numbing environment of her cell to a vibrant memory of the world outside, Skye sunk into an experience, recalling every manner in which she'd lived before, hoping it would be enough to sustain her through this nightmare.
Some time later a familiar figure entered her cell, the sound of his boots creaking as he walked, waking her effectively from her thoughts. Taylor was back, the skin of an interrogator shed, and the man she knew in his stead. Eyes brushing over his mid-section, she quickly realized his holster was empty; his pose a little less formal. What was up with that?
He stopped by her cell, hung on his own regret, his shortcomings. "Skye," he said softly, a familiar tone consisting of affection and discomfort reminding her of the way things had once been. It was a good sign.
She didn't know what to say, so she just said what she wanted to. This wasn't her game, not her war. Skye didn't see herself as the pawn that would solve this game by travelling tirelessly to the other side of the chessboard.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you," she apologized, realizing she'd only wanted to hurt him back the only way she knew she could. Saying that Lucas didn't care - that it was an act - had really gotten to her. It had driven her to an ugly place, somewhere she didn't wish to go again.
"It's alright," he comforted her, pleased to see her more like she'd been before everything. Her straightforwardness had really set her apart from the other children, her ability to take responsibility of her own mistakes. Taylor recalled taking a liking to her even when her parents - no, her father - had still been alive.
"I was out of line," he then confessed, admitting his own mistakes in her wake.
"I could've told you about it better, but I didn't know how. He hates you so much," Skye spoke with a distressed frown, slipping back into pain, into the moment where she was stuck holding the weight of the world, keeping everything together. "But it's not my place to ask why," she admitted, understanding the line between them.
Taylor drew in a heavy breath, leaning against the bars with his hand between them and his forehead. He couldn't say it, but it showed all over his face: something inside him was broken, a piece still missing from whatever had happened between father and son. She could tell he honestly didn't know how to fix it.
"We do need to talk about something though," she whispered, her voice muffled, weak.
"Lucas," Taylor agreed.
"Lucas and I," Skye corrected him, standing up from her bed, thumbs sliding in the cuffs of her pants as she approached him. "It happened whether you wanted it or not."
He pulled his forehead away from his hand, looking straight at her now. He was listening, fully intent on hearing everything this time, in spite of his impulses. Her behavior contradicted the rumors that had started spreading, rumors he'd tried to weed the best he could, but found himself powerless in their face. Skye wasn't stupid, but she was fiercely dedicated to her cause. She didn't have to make up lies about her mother being still alive, when her own actions supported the theory that she'd been an unwitting ally, only seeking to keep a loved one safe.
"Elizabeth told me to take it easy on you. She felt I should try and understand," Taylor explained the shift in his behavior, clearly sorry for what he'd put her through. Skye didn't know what Elizabeth had said exactly, but she assumed Elizabeth had seen enough to recognize someone unhappily in love.
"The timing was right," Skye told him, trying to reach for something inside him, something cold and long forgotten that might recognize attraction and loneliness and see how they would lead to feelings. "I needed closeness and he needed somebody. I could tell he was lonely, that he worked mercilessly on those numbers, dedicating his days to cracking them."
Yet hearing it wasn't easy, Taylor shifted more than once. He held his ground though, keeping to his decision. All he could see was the boy, who'd left five years ago, unable to shoot his own father even when he'd plotted to overthrow him. Lucas had fixated on his work, withdrawn from all other social contact, until worry had driven Taylor near insane. He'd only brought his son here so he might have a chance at a better life, so they might have a chance to connect again. Thinking back, Taylor had often wondered if exile had been the right choice.
"Your son isn't a monster. I can't explain it, but I know he can come around," she continued, incapable of expressing herself clearly. The words fled her, she couldn't grasp them.
"I know," Taylor responded, recognizing this as well. "But there is only so much I can do, until we reach a point where it's impossible for Lucas to come around."
And that was what she feared too. Lucas was close to that place; he was lingering at its doorstep because of her. She knew he was divided in two: the cruel man thrown in the jungle and the boy, who wanted to be loved. One side would win out eventually, and the decision would mean the end of Terra Nova or the Sixers. Yet she bled a little inside when she heard Taylor say it; that there was a chance Lucas would fulfill his dark fantasy.
"I won't let that happen!" she exclaimed, realizing only a moment later how foolish it was to say so. She was locked here, held prisoner and she would be trialed and condemned any day now. Not to mention the fact that she had walked out on him, probably only reinforcing his belief that he could only destroy the things he loved.
Taylor didn't say anything and he didn't need to. Skye knew she wasn't going to be a special case, she couldn't. He needed to judge her the same as he would anyone else, based solely on her actions. She lowered her eyes from him, twitching her mouth. "You haven't decided on my fate yet, have you?"
"It's not that simple," he told her, pained by his position that had already forced him to denounce one child. By miracle he'd had another chance at parenting, only to find her a stranger and in the same position as Lucas had been. The echoes of the past wouldn't leave him alone, they rippled through time.
"I've received some requests from… people wanting to see you," Taylor then changed the subject subtly, hoping she would leave at that for now.
"I don't want to see anyone," Skye frowned; her voice quivered a bit as she refused his kindness. She wasn't ready to see anyone, not Josh, not Tasha, not anyone. All the roads lead to Lucas, her reasoning for her actions was tied to him and sharing this secret would be too hard.
"Are you sure?" he had to ensure she knew what she was saying. He couldn't release her from her cell, not for awhile. The outrage wasn't that bad, but some people were very vocal about their opinions on how she should be punished. He had to treat her the same as Curran.
"I'm sure," Skye rolled her eyes, evading his question by folding her arms across her chest, feeling the chill creep up on her. "Are we done?" she asked a second later, sensing he was slipping away from the now.
Taylor however was contemplating on telling her, not able to go on with her in the dark, thinking horrible things of him. He wondered if she could understand the choices of a desperate man and forgive him when his own son couldn't. Seeing her look at him with such hatred before, yelling at him - it had really taken him back, he'd seen Lucas in her so clearly then. He couldn't afford to repeat the mistakes of the past, or she'd slip away too.
"My family was among the first settlers in Somalia. We'd fought a long bloody war for that land, and I was happy to see my son and wife again," he told her with a heavy heart. "However, the rebels learned where we were setting up, and they hit us back hard, killing most, but sparing few."
Skye sunk into his words, recalling the lessons she'd attended in school, the brief mentions of the war back in Somalia. It had been a bloody affair, something truly horrendous, a reminder of how humanity was capable of pure madness.
"I was one of their targets, a man with leverage and rank. So they spared my family and made me choose between the life of my son and my wife," He recalled with detachment, yet she could tell he was affected; his voice lacked its usual flow. Skye actually gasped when she realized where this was going.
"I tried everything, even offering them my life in their stead. But it was about a lesson, about power. Ayani, my wife, begged me to pick Lucas and Lucas demanded me to save his mother. Imagine that, a boy of only fourteen, ready to die for his parent," Taylor explained with disdain, voicing his memories in the light of the present.
"Of course, there was ever only one option. Saving Ayani would've damaged us both, I knew it then and I know it now. I couldn't let my son die, even if we didn't get along, I just couldn't. But to him it was betrayal, because he loved his mother more. And I could never replace her."
He didn't say any more, and he didn't have to. Skye listened numbly, Lucas' voice echoing in her head. It was the animal instinct to protect your offspring, your future, yet she couldn't imagine a worse position to be in. The choice had to haunt him, especially when it had torn Lucas apart so. She inched closer and then again, treading carefully until she was by the bars, fingers clasping onto them, eyes upon him patiently.
"It's not your fault," Skye said, hoping it would mean something, even a little.
Taylor noticed how the distance melted, how she reached out to him despite everything. He withdrew his hand from the bars, and stood in front of her, finally placing his hands on hers. "I failed my son," he confessed, truly believing it in all his heart.
Then his radio hissed, and a familiar voice called to him: Lieutenant Washington. "Sir, we have a situation at the gate," she called to him timidly, alerting him immediately.
"I'll be right there," Taylor promised, pulling away from Skye to speak to his radio.
"I need to go."
She nodded at him, understanding. They had all the time in the world now; Things had a genuine shot of getting better before they could get worse.
"Go," she prompted him, retreating back to her bed as he set off, leaving her alone again.
Taylor emerged from the brig, moving with haste towards the gates. He received his weapons back from the guard, merely snatching them wordlessly as he passed the guard by. In a minute he was already joined by soldiers, reports were spoken, but they didn't quite reach his mind. His thoughts were still with Skye, on the way she'd changed right before his eyes. The hardest part of their situation wasn't her betrayal, but the knowledge that she had grown into an extraordinary young woman, and she didn't deserve the harsh punishment that would befall her.
Washington walked up to him, her expression serious and hand already resting over her gun on her hips. "We have Sixers outside the gates, sir," she said promptly, succeeding in making him quicken his paste even more as they hurried onwards together.
"Since when? And what the hell do they want?" Taylor snapped, knowing this was no accident. They had to know he'd caught their spy. Mira would undoubtedly try something to fix this, some kind of maneuver she'd been saving for a special occasion.
"Apparently they want to talk to you," Washington explained warily, not knowing how to break it to him. The Sixer she'd been communicating with was none other than his son, Lucas, who seemed as dangerous and driven as ever.
They reached their destination finally, a full unit of soldiers reacting to Taylor's presence with a salute when they passed them by. Taylor ignored them and even Washington just gave them a quick nod, signaling them to reach for their weapons with her hand. Her breath got stuck in her throat some seconds later when Taylor came to an abrupt halt, upon noticing the man that stood between Terra Nova's gates and the crowd of Sixers in the distance - it was Lucas.
Taylor couldn't make out the details of his face at first, yet he recognized the clothes, the crooked posture and the silhouette. He had not seen his son for five years and during that time Lucas had grown into a man, but so much had remained the same. Suddenly Taylor was reminded of Mira's short report on Lucas some time back, when the two of them had had to join forces to stay alive in the merciless jungle. Mira had told him Lucas was doing fine, that he was well and capable of taking care of himself. Taylor hadn't fully believed her then, but he did now. The jungle had carved out the last bits of softness from his son, leaving behind something stronger, something hardened.
"He said he wants to talk to you," Washington filled in, having already tested the waters. Lucas had been calm and uninterested in her, patiently waiting for his father. She had found his new self quite disturbing, because the only thing that had held Lucas back in the day had been his impatient character. Now that it was gone, what was holding him back anymore?
"Fine," Taylor agreed, taking a step forward with some difficulty. "Have your guns fixed at them, I'm going in."
He started walking despite Washington's muffled reaction of shock, and he didn't stop even when she started giving out orders, assuming control as he walked into the serpent's nest. The walk wasn't that long; Lucas was waiting for him half-way, also armed and ready. Taylor had ample time to examine his son though: see the scars come into view, the tan, his unshaved face, the creases on his forehead and the weapons he carried.
Guns were fixed on them from both sides, Taylor's men by the gate and Lucas's backup that consisted of four vehicles and ten men. But neither was worried about being caught in the crossfire, they both knew the real danger was between the two of them. Disillusioned by his son's unexpected return, Taylor stopped at a small distance from Lucas, unsure what he was expected of. He chose to greet his son.
"It's good to see you son," Taylor said peacefully, noticing how his sincerity seemed to annoy Lucas rather than act as a peace gesture. Of course such was only to be expected of their reunion.
"I'm not here for that, old man," Lucas stated with arrogance rippling through his hostile voice. He held himself with confidence, withstanding his father's company with his goal in mind.
"What is it then?" Taylor asked, eyeing the Sixers in the background. He spotted Mira amidst them, sitting in the front seat of a rover. She was talking to someone, appearing almost displeased with the current turn of events.
Lucas snorted, barely containing his contempt. "I'm here to trade," he announced.
It surprised Taylor, he didn't think the Sixers could have anything he would want, his son non-withstanding. He was willing to listen though. "What could you possibly have that I would want?" he responded carefully.
Something flickered in Lucas' eyes, a tender glow. "You know by now that we have medicine for Sincyllic Fever," he explained casually, as if it was common knowledge all of the sudden. "Unfortunately it is not perfected, and we have a terminal patient, who needs it."
Taylor was filling the gaps himself, unsure how Lucas would benefit from this trade. It was certain that he couldn't outright refuse this chance though, as the disease was still one of the biggest causes of death in Terra Nova.
"You'll give us the medicine, and we will complete it for you?" Taylor questioned, watching as Lucas nodded slightly as response.
"And you will take Deborah Tate from our hands," Lucas then added sharply, "She isn't of any use to us anymore."
Confirmation of Skye's words came crashing at Taylor; he could barely hide how important this was to him, to know she wasn't lying. Something felt amiss here, however, Taylor could tell this wasn't everything.
"And?" he asked, raising a brow suspiciously.
Lucas smirked with sinister charm, then adding, "I would also want our girl back."
There was nothing tender about the way he spoke of Skye, and yet Taylor just knew Skye had been telling the truth about her relations with Lucas. He knew his son better than anyone, knew the little tells Lucas had. Right now Lucas appeared the same as before, but not quite. His gaze was restless; he had trouble keeping his eyes on his father. Taylor could tell Lucas was strained.
"What would you do with a spy, whose cover has been blown?" Taylor commented, as if he didn't know what this was about. Mockery bled into his voice, alerting Lucas slightly.
A moment later a knowing smile spread across his face and Lucas removed his hand from his pocket, chuckling lightly.
"So she told you?" he murmured with amusement, finding this turn of events unbelievable. He hadn't actually believed Skye could go through with it and knowing she had made him respect her more.
"How does it feel old man? Knowing she's mine and will always be?" Lucas questioned curiously. He spoke as if it was a competition between the two of them about whoever got to hold Skye's affection. Taylor noticed this immediately, and it troubled him further. He didn't see the chance of redemption in his son that Skye did. Perhaps it was all a game to Lucas?
"What if she doesn't want to?" Taylor countered harshly, catching onto Lucas' insecurity for a moment. He saw Lucas flinch, a nagging suspicion eating at him, and found it quite curious.
"We can always ask her," Lucas suggested viciously, brushing off his father's attempts to shake him.
Taylor sighed, unwilling to spar verbally with his son. Of course the decision would be Skye's, but he was sure she would say 'yes' when Lucas had placed her mother as bait. And Lucas obviously knew this as well, which only angered Taylor further. He took a step closer, tensing all around.
"I don't know what you've been telling that girl, but she deserves better, son, a hell of a lot better than you can offer," he whispered harshly, hoping no one else would hear them.
His words sunk into Lucas with precision, sharp and painful like bombshells. Lucas' grin turned grim, his lips twitched uncontrollably. His façade was shaking; the real him wanting to emerge to punch his father down, yet he recognized it would be an act of war and petty at that. He'd survived without his father's approval for five years, and he didn't need it now or so he tried to convince himself. Deep down Lucas had been waiting for his father to belittle him, to say he wasn't worthy of her, all the while hoping that maybe his father wouldn't go there, that maybe he could have this one good thing he could agree with his father about.
"There's no room for me in your perfect world, father," Lucas responded, his voice dripping with malice. "And by the looks of it, neither has she."
He knew what rope to pull, what words to pick to cause the most harm. His father's sense of justice was unwavering, and Skye had acted against it. So really in this case, Lucas was just making it easier for Taylor to do his duty. "Why not just give her back to me where she belongs?"
The charge between them was stronger now; it was emitting sparks.
"I'll agree to Deborah and the medicine," Taylor declared. "I'll even add some basic medical supplies," he then added.
Lucas waited for the rest, but his father remained silent and after awhile Lucas gritted his teeth in anger, sizzling with this rejection. "You want to keep your prisoner? Punish her for betraying you?" he spat out angrily, momentarily frightened with the prospect of Taylor actually harming her.
"Why would you keep her? She stabbed you in the back! Just give her to me!" Lucas then roared, breaking his calm before his father.
And this convinced Taylor that it was serious; he could see the need, the obsession in Lucas' eyes. Lucas clenched his hands into fists, barely keeping still. His smile became strained, his jaw tensed, his entire being looked alert all of the sudden. Overall he reminded Taylor more of an animal than a man, a grief-struck beast.
"Would you really let her mother suffer without treatment?" Taylor asked, testing the waters.
"If she dies, it's on you," Lucas responded gravely, his hands itching for the feel of steel in them. But he tried to remain civil, to keep himself in check. He recalled all too vividly how Mira had tried to argue him out of showing himself for this same reason, and breaking would only prove her point.
Lucas wasn't budging at all, Taylor realized to his disappointment, finding it strange how Lucas had come all this way to claim her even with his master plan being near complete. Taylor touched his pocket tentatively; remember that the hard drive was still there. He then pulled it out slowly, watching Lucas' eyes widen in anxiety, as he realized what his father was holding.
"I got this from Skye," Taylor said matter-of-factly, quickly getting rebuffed, "No, you didn't."
Lucas's denial came without pause, without a break for thought. He believed in her, knew she couldn't have handed it over, not when she knew what it meant. Taylor smiled, admitting, "No, I didn't."
He then dropped the drive by his feet and grabbed his gun, shooting the drive to pieces. Lucas staggered as the gun shot sounded, acting as if he'd been hit himself. Gladly their spectators saw Taylor's gun was pointed at the ground, even if this incident made everyone a bit more trigger-happy than before.
Lucas felt a piece of him fall off, as his father butchered his work - again - like it meant nothing. The shock hit him all over, really getting to him. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting at the man before him.
"Now you have no way back," Taylor explained, putting his gun back in its holster. "Do you still want her, son? Will you take her to the jungle to live like you have, like ghosts?" Bitterness was evident in his voice, his whole being. It wasn't just the fact that Lucas was the one taking her away; it was also the primitive protection he could offer her, the lack of medicine, decent accommodations, constant danger and the less than attractive company Lucas would place her in.
Taylor's bitterness only proved to Lucas he'd won though; it removed his anxiety, as he recognized Taylor was grasping at straws.
"I don't need that," Lucas said coldly, "But I need her."
He then turned around. "You have one hour. Bring her to us, or you'll be sorry."
TBC