Written for the multi ship war on bsg epics on livejournal but for some reason never posted here.
Dislaimer: I own nothing, everything belongs to the creators of Battlestar Galactica.
When she was with the Cylons, it was never silent.
It's not like it could ever be silent, there were far too many of them to even try to accomplish that goal. There was always someone who was talking, or whispering, or anything really. Even at night, when they slept, it still was not silent. Because for every one of them that was asleep, there was another who was still awake and working on something.
Sharon got used to that. She liked that.
The constant buzzing sound of conversation, it comforted her, it made her feel loved.
(Sometimes she wishes she could convince just one of her siblings that this was the right choice. Because then, at least, she would have some family beside Helo.)
Silence, to her, to the Eight she was in those times, was nothing but something she had heard about but never experienced. It didn't seem important, not really, so she never really thought about it.
When she was on the Galactica, locked up in her cell, it was always silent.
Or at least, most of the time.
Sometimes sounds would penetrate the silence that surrounded her. The whispering of the guards, the closing of the door, the ringing of the phone. Sometimes there were voices of other people that talked to her – mostly Helo, though occasionally someone else stopped by but never often enough to help. She suspects that out there on the Galactica, it's also never silent, but unfortunately this place is practically soundproofed.
She hated the silence.
It suffocated her.
It almost drove her insane.
Silence, to her, to the Sharon she aspired to be, was nothing but a burden, a horrible thing in her life she never wished to experience again.
But later, when she was finally free, everything changed. (So, many things changed and yet, at the same time, they stayed the same.) Later, she and Helo would lie in their bed, she securely in his arms, and they would say nothing. He would softly trace her arms, or play with her hair and she would lie with her head on his chest listening to his heartbeat.
It was comforting.
It was wonderful.
There was no need for words, not really, Sharon quickly learned that the silence spoke more than words ever would. Because it was in the silence that Sharon understood, though she cannot explain how, how much Helo loved her and how much she loved did not need words to express anything. All they needed to be was together.
In the silence they were perfect.
In the silence, nothing but them mattered.
To Athena, to the officer of the Galactica, to Helo's wife, the silence was a comfort. It was the best thing in the whole world because in Helo's arms, she was the happiest she had ever been and the safest she could ever be.