Getting Shot in the Stomach Really Hurts
By Oonagh
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, except the story.
Author's Note: Set before and during the scene in Bastille Day When Cally was in Lifestation – after the shooting and attempted rape. Sorry about the title, for some reason I couldn't think of anything better.
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Cally lay in the Lifestation bed, pale and sore, and thought back on the events of the previous few months. She'd thought that signing up with the fleet in order to pay for Dental school was a good idea. And for a while it seemed like it had been. Cally loved her job and loved the people she worked with.
But then the Cylons came and everything changed. Everything she had known before the Fleet – family, friends, home – was suddenly gone. But Cally had coped, finding a strength inside herself that she hadn't known she had. She had dealt with the apocalypse as well as anyone else in the fleet; much better than some.
Even the shock that the cylons now looked human, that they could hide in plain sight, disguised as anyone had not fazed her for long. Cally knew that there were some things she could do nothing about and that railing against these things – or allowing her fear of them to control her- would do no good. Her parents had always praised her for being practical.
But yesterday things had changed. She had been attacked, not by a monster or a cylon but by an ordinary man. A criminal, maybe, but still human. And Cally was very afraid that that was, for her, the straw that would break the camel's back.
She could stand tall under constant cylon attack, bouncing back every time, doing her job. But this? This was different. She couldn't get the taste of that thug's blood out of her mouth, she could still feel the agonising pressure of the bullet entering her stomach and, every time she closed her eyes, she could see his huge, sweating body hulking over her, lust and hate in his gaze. And, even with the drugs Cottle had her on, the pain was still there, twinging every time she moved. Cally didn't think she would ever be able to forget what had been done to her and that thought terrified her.
Lost in her slightly panicked thoughts, Cally almost missed the entrance of the chief and her deck-gang colleagues. Her boss straight away started one of their usual bantering conversations, trying to make her feel better. She responded automatically, unthinking, still focussed on her melancholy thoughts until something he said jerked her back into the present.
"That's my girl." Cally glanced up at him and saw the proud look on his face and realised that he believed in her. In her strength. Her resilience. Her ability to get past this. And, suddenly, she did too. Hope came flooding back, chasing out the morbid thoughts of the last day. Sure, getting shot in the stomach really hurt, but she was still alive. And she'd fought back, stopped the prisoner from getting what he wanted. Suddenly, the taste of blood in her mouth became something to be proud of. She grinned up at the chief, basking in his pride and approval, allowing his quiet strength to refuel so that she could fight this new fight. And Cally knew she'd win, she'd bounce back as always. Because that was what he expected her to do.