AN: It's just a plot bunny. But I had to write it! The Breakout Kings fandom is small but mighty!
Set during the interrogation of Starla in Season 1, Episode 7, Fun With Chemistry
Disclaimer: You'd know if I owned it
Erica's POV
Slight AU because of the timelines in the story
Summary: Her eyes are blue.
Starla heard my boots hit the floor and then pause behind her. I saw her shoulders stiffen. My hand reached for her left one, guided her to her feet.
"Starla," I whispered, fixing my eyes on the accomplice. "How are you doing?"
"How do you think I'm doing?" Starla responded, voice steel, eyes burning.
I shrugged. "I asked you." Starla didn't answer. "All right. Be that way. I have another question... Why'd you do it?"
"Why-"
"And don't say 'why do you think?' Because that is not what I expect from your answer and you know that." I rubbed her shoulder gently, and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing. The fire left her eyes. Her dominance was no where to be seen.
The poor girl looked almost sorry.
"I..." Starla hesitantly met my gaze again, "I was scared. It spun out of control and they were there and I was scared."
I nodded. "And you were young."
"I was seven."
"You were young, Starla."
"I know," She shot back quickly, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She turned away from me and rubbed her eyes.
"Starla. Look at me," I urged. She shook her head, staring out at the shop's vast display of rugs. "Starla."
She cringed and turned, eyes now clear of tears, wide and innocent.
"Where are they going to take me?" she asked, voice a whisper.
"Prison," I spat the word, stroking her skin with my thumb. "I don't know which. I'm sorry, but...," my voice trailed off, looking down at her so close to me.
"But?" Her voice cracked.
"But you need to go where they take you. This is your mess. Take them to Mars. Go silently. Whatever story you give them, you were scared, you were threatened, they don't care."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"But that wasn't why I did it."
"I know."
We grew silent. Ray shouted for me to hurry up.
"You sounded like you know what you're talking about. Prison," Starla abruptly.
My lips curled into a half smile.
"I do." The expression on her face changed. The small, proud smile she was working on during the silence was gone. Realization colored her face.
"The day... The day it happened..." Starla stared up at me, light lipped and nodding. "You went to..." She nibbled her lip again. "Oh."
She stepped back, cupping her elbows to her body protectively.
"I'm no one to be proud of. I hope you know that," I told her, reaching my hand out to run fingers through her hair. "And I am so sorry for that day."
"It's ok," she whispered.
"It's not. The pasty guy who just talked to you can probably trace back this mess you've made to that exact point in time. It's my fault you turned out like this. But like I said. This is your mess now."
Starla nodded slowly. My heart hammered in my chest and I pulled her to me, wrapping my arms tight around her shoulders. She gasped, and I could feel her hesitate to hug back. I closed my eyes and rested my head against hers, waiting.
She did. Slowly, arms awkward in the embrace though they've embraced Mars and others before him. I hugged her tighter.
"Sometimes I still miss you. Why didn't you ever visit?"
"I-"
She sighed and answered for me. "You couldn't. Right."
I rested my hand on her shoulder again. Ray was shooting me dirty looks.
"We don't have much time... You have to take us to Mars, ok?"
"Ok," Starla agreed immediately.
"Good girl." I leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Starla."
"Yeah, m-?" She caught herself before she could call me 'mom.' I felt my heart squeeze and I hugged her again, looser this time.
"I know I'm no longer in your life. I fucked up with you, but I love you. And-" I cut myself off, leaning back. I met her gaze and I smiled. Her eyes stared curiously into mine.
"And?"
"And..." I laughed. My throat hurt and my eyes stung, but I laughed. Laughed until I took my arms away and cradled myself, until tears threatened to spill over and Starla looked at me with worry and compassion.
"Mo-" Starla cut herself off. She closed her eyes and started again, voice shaking, "Are you ok?"
My laughter faded, leaving my cheeks stained with tears. I stared at her through blurry eyes, Starla, fully grown, beautiful. I reached for her as I answered, stroking her hair, my daughter's hair, "And you've got your father's eyes."
THE END
