Summary: Connections are important, for human and for Cylon. They all feel the need to forge connections. S4, through Faith.
Rating: K+ to be safe
Disclaimer: No disrespect is meant to the creators of Battlestar Galactica.
Notes: Definition from the Merriam-Webster online dictionary.
Connectivity: the quality, state, or capability of being connective or connected.
Leoben cast covert glances towards Sam Anders, trying to puzzle out what drew him. Being drawn to Kara was understandable, destiny and all. But to Sam? He knew he was supposed to connect to Sam, just like he'd made that connection with Kara. Instinct screamed it. He could not, however, figure out why. No glimpse of destiny, either shared or separate prepared him. Leoben was blank on the subject of Sam Anders.
For some unfathomable reason, the unknown of Sam scared him even as it fascinated. Oh, Leoben did know bits, like how Sam and Kara belonged together. Little things. There was far more he didn't know and so he watched him, hoping to see what he needed to make that connection he needed to make. He'd made a tentative try earlier and missed the mark completely. Not surprising really. Sometimes he had to work blind. It wasn't something he enjoyed. He'd do it however, if that's what God wanted from him.
Why Sam Anders? The interest until now had been passing. Why had it suddenly become far more urgent that his eyes turn to him? What did God have in store for them both?
Leoben looked away. He could only hope truth would be revealed to him soon. Perhaps then he would no longer have to pretend he held no fear of the coming days.
Sam had to see it, to be there, to maybe feel something for the Cylons. The other Cylons. They weren't just the Cylons anymore, but the others, part of the same race. His race.
Oh frak. This was too messed up!
Sweat continued to gather about his body and he wondered if this terrible exhaustion he felt would ever fade. It seemed he'd been running on empty ever since….
Sam drew in a sharp breath, banishing that line of thought. It was just the recent lack of sleep, he told himself. Too many hours on and not enough resting.
The Leoben kept staring at him. If that in itself wasn't enough to unnerve a guy, the Leoben also talked to him every chance he got, making quiet half conversation about destiny, lost notes in a symphony, and such. Sam was edgy enough without all of that. With it…. Well, he had to struggle to keep his composure. Had anyone noticed? He didn't think so.
But he had to be there. They had to form an alliance. Why not? He was a…Cylon…and he was good, so why couldn't these Cylons be good? It could happen, right? Right? He wasn't just telling himself that. It could happen. He had to know it was possible, because if it wasn't….
He'd hoped to feel something here, a sense of homecoming, yet he felt nothing save that entire gamut of feeling he'd already been running: pain to compassion with a chaser of anger and hopelessness. Oh, and a side of love for Kara. When he looked at her, now that was when he felt he'd come home. Well, until he remembered she'd shoot him in the head the second she discovered his secret. That thought terrified him more than anything else. He couldn't bear that he would hurt her in any way….
He glanced up. The Leoben model was watching him again. Gods, didn't he have anything better to do? His head was cocked, those eyes looking right into him, as though he was seeing that secret he carried. Frak! His heart hammered away in his chest. The Leoben…. He couldn't know, could he? The entire model were all bullshit artists, cons talking around half-truths.
He's spoken truth before, a tiny voice in his head reminded him. He's seen what others don't.
The Leoben looked away. Kara woke.
The Leoben talked to the Six and Sam had to admit his argument made sense. Soon, however, Athena claimed his attention.
He watched her, her hand in the goo and began to wonder. What would happen if he touched that goo stuff? Would he find himself instantly in the Cylon network? Would they all know right then who he was? Or was it not like that? He lowered his hand towards it, only half fighting the fascination and that urge to know.
Get back to work.
He pulled his hand back, vowing to ignore the Leoben, to ignore everything except the job he had to do. But then it happened. The Six and Jean. He moved without registering he'd done so. Jean, oh gods, no! Jean was dead and he was holding his gun to the Six's head. The Six…. She was a frakking Cylon and nothing more! A stinking machine without feelings or conscience. He should kill her, pull the trigger….
But she wasn't without feeling. She felt. He could hear it in her voice. The realization was an electric jolt on his limbs. He'd heard so many people express similar sentiments. People not Cylons. She felt and he felt and if he felt human then…couldn't she? It couldn't be. She was different than he was. That's just how it was. He may be a Cylon but he wasn't like her. He wanted to kill her for Jean, to keep her from ever hurting another friend and still…she felt! The humanity of it slapped him and he silently begged for direction.
He'd do it. He would. He'd kill her and be done with it. Someone make her stop talking!
The other Six's warm fingers on his. For a brief second, he thought she was going to take the gun from him.
Together they pulled the trigger.
He'd killed Cylons before, so why did this one feel different?
Tension dug claws deep into his back.
Not changed, he told himself. I am who I am and no one else. Right? I'm not like them.
Do your job.
The eight was not ready to die. She lay on the floor dying however, her gaze fixed on death. Shadows and light covered her over. Thoughts and emotions jumbled together. She felt cold, numb, alone for the first time. Fear coated her skin.
She asked for forgiveness, waited to hear Athena, to feel her hand, her presence, lessening the pain of this end. She waited for the connection. The wait was interminable. Panic raced along her. Surely her sister wouldn't forsake her now? Surely….
A touch came, warm, gentle, and comforting. It was familiar and not at the same time. Different. A voice accompanied, soothing, and compassionate. She almost wept from the strong reassurance as she rushed headlong towards death's arms. There, in the midst of her passage, halfway between life and death, she paused and saw the truth of her comforter. The veil was lifted.
Not her sister, but another. The three had not been insane after all.
A momentary connection, quickly there and then gone.
She left all behind and raced towards the welcoming light.
Athena turned away. But Sam…. Sam couldn't let the eight die alone. He couldn't help himself. No one should be alone in their final moment. Cylon or not, friend or foe. He reached out, giving comfort where no one else would. It wasn't the first time and he was sure it wouldn't be the last.
Did they not understand? She was dying. It was final, if they were to be believed about their resurrection ship being out of range. All of them just watching as she died. The Leoben, the Six. Athena. They didn't do anything. They were the ones she knew and the ones, he saw, who wouldn't touch her as she died. Her last moments were eased by the one she didn't know. Him. Sam couldn't even begin to figure out if he'd reacted from human emotion or if somehow, just somehow, he'd managed to feel something for another Cylon. A connection. What he saw right then was something he knew, something he'd seen, something he knew how to handle.
The picture of the eight alone at death stayed in his mind even as the hybrid's words became clear to the others. He blinked. She couldn't be serious. He wasn't hearing right. He didn't know the way. A wave of exhaustion crashed over him.
Sam's chest felt tight as the rest sunk in. The three. If she recognized him…. His life was a ticking time bomb. How long until Kara knew the truth? How long until her Sam became just another Cylon she had to kill? A sick sensation settled in his stomach and made itself at home. He'd take however long he had left and when his time came, he'd die with whatever dignity he could manage. Until then….
He'd be the man he'd always been. Nothing changed who he was. Right?
Something nagged at Kara Thrace, something she'd seen in those hours with the Cylons, yet when she thought about the hours, nothing jumped out at her.
She shrugged, feeling the knots along her shoulders and back. It had to be from the tension that hadn't let up the entire time. She was wound up and that was the problem. Jumpy. They all were. Kara yawned, hearing her jaw pop. Maybe if she could manage to sleep for a few minutes the sensation would go away. There was still so much she had yet to do and sleep seemed like a luxury she couldn't settle down to right now. Later. She'd rest later.
Whatever she'd noticed slipped from her mind as though she had never seen it at all.
It wasn't time for this revelation.