![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
ficlet: newBSG, Caprica, spoilers through Sine Qua Non
disclaimer: not mine
pairings: Caprica/Tigh, Caprica/Baltar
rating: PG
lenght: barely 600
spoilers: through Sine Qua Non
untitled ficlet by ALC Punk!
She's never had a name to call her own -- not in the sense that the humans do. No parents called her by name when she was born or wrote her name down in the annals of history. The others named her, awarding a badge of honor and devotion that she sometimes wishes she could forget.
What she told Saul was true--she'd loved Gaius, learned pain and more through him. Our love of human men... Now she learns to manage without him, without his love (if she ever had it). With human scorn and Saul's need to something she isn't.
Caprica (Six, she sometimes thinks fiercely, as though it will change everything, I'm just a Six) doesn't even have a cell to call her own. These clear walls with their steel-plating were Sharon's, first. And sometimes they echo with her rage and growth, her changes from Cylon to human to mother and back to Cylon again.
Sometimes, she wonders if Helo is aware of the gift he holds in his hands, how lucky he truly is.
-
"Miss--"
"They call me Caprica," she interrupts, reminding him as her hands rub slowly against each other. They're always cold on the battlestar, and she's never quite sure if it's because the place is physically cold or something else.
The human doctor looks at her, really looks at her, for once. It's not as though he's treated her like a specimen under glass before this, but she was simply another problem in his day to deal with. She's gotten used to his brusqueness, almost welcomes it on the monthly check-ups decreed by their codes of conduct involving prisoners of war.
"Caprica." He almost looks sad for a moment, and his next words are almost gentle. "The test results came back. You're pregnant."
-
Her hands curled over her stomach, she wonders how this will play out. There are things she could ask Athena, things she could ask other women who've been mothers. The basics are something she understands. Babies are created, they grow, they're born, they take their first steps and cause their parents pain (and for the children to reach their full potential, the parents have to die).
But that's not the same thing as experiencing it.
She wonders if she should tell Saul, what he'll think. A part of her is entirely certain that he'll run from her. Slam the door that he's opened and bury himself back in his work without comfort.
-
She was never sick, in the mornings. All of the Cylons had read up on pregnancy and the conditions it could cause, but she was never sick. She feels a little cheated by that, as she curls on her side, staring at the wall without thought.
You've forgotten me...
She rarely sees Gaius anymore, and she wonders if he's moved on, or if she's the one who's grown up.
There are humans who would laugh, humans who have written literature, drawn art, created music, who would laugh at the Cylon lack of creativity.
Once upon a time, she had a dream. Gaius and her, and children. Dark-haired little girls blue eyes and their father's smile, serious little blonde boys with grey eyes inherited from the Twos. Now she has little to dream about, but something to call her own.
-
Hers. Something she can claim in some small way. Caprica likes that idea. Rolls it around in her head and a small, strange smile plays over her lips.
The baby will be hers to name, hers to raise. Even here, in this cage of glass and steel.
She drifts into sleep, thinking up names and wondering if she wants to know the gender of her child before it's fully-formed and in her arms.
-f-
pairings: Caprica/Tigh, Caprica/Baltar
rating: PG
lenght: barely 600
spoilers: through Sine Qua Non
untitled ficlet by ALC Punk!
She's never had a name to call her own -- not in the sense that the humans do. No parents called her by name when she was born or wrote her name down in the annals of history. The others named her, awarding a badge of honor and devotion that she sometimes wishes she could forget.
What she told Saul was true--she'd loved Gaius, learned pain and more through him. Our love of human men... Now she learns to manage without him, without his love (if she ever had it). With human scorn and Saul's need to something she isn't.
Caprica (Six, she sometimes thinks fiercely, as though it will change everything, I'm just a Six) doesn't even have a cell to call her own. These clear walls with their steel-plating were Sharon's, first. And sometimes they echo with her rage and growth, her changes from Cylon to human to mother and back to Cylon again.
Sometimes, she wonders if Helo is aware of the gift he holds in his hands, how lucky he truly is.
-
"Miss--"
"They call me Caprica," she interrupts, reminding him as her hands rub slowly against each other. They're always cold on the battlestar, and she's never quite sure if it's because the place is physically cold or something else.
The human doctor looks at her, really looks at her, for once. It's not as though he's treated her like a specimen under glass before this, but she was simply another problem in his day to deal with. She's gotten used to his brusqueness, almost welcomes it on the monthly check-ups decreed by their codes of conduct involving prisoners of war.
"Caprica." He almost looks sad for a moment, and his next words are almost gentle. "The test results came back. You're pregnant."
-
Her hands curled over her stomach, she wonders how this will play out. There are things she could ask Athena, things she could ask other women who've been mothers. The basics are something she understands. Babies are created, they grow, they're born, they take their first steps and cause their parents pain (and for the children to reach their full potential, the parents have to die).
But that's not the same thing as experiencing it.
She wonders if she should tell Saul, what he'll think. A part of her is entirely certain that he'll run from her. Slam the door that he's opened and bury himself back in his work without comfort.
-
She was never sick, in the mornings. All of the Cylons had read up on pregnancy and the conditions it could cause, but she was never sick. She feels a little cheated by that, as she curls on her side, staring at the wall without thought.
You've forgotten me...
She rarely sees Gaius anymore, and she wonders if he's moved on, or if she's the one who's grown up.
There are humans who would laugh, humans who have written literature, drawn art, created music, who would laugh at the Cylon lack of creativity.
Once upon a time, she had a dream. Gaius and her, and children. Dark-haired little girls blue eyes and their father's smile, serious little blonde boys with grey eyes inherited from the Twos. Now she has little to dream about, but something to call her own.
-
Hers. Something she can claim in some small way. Caprica likes that idea. Rolls it around in her head and a small, strange smile plays over her lips.
The baby will be hers to name, hers to raise. Even here, in this cage of glass and steel.
She drifts into sleep, thinking up names and wondering if she wants to know the gender of her child before it's fully-formed and in her arms.
-f-
no subject
no subject