Disclaimer:…what the hell is the point to these things…we all know none of us owns anything…
When I first saw this scene, I couldn't believe it. I cried in horror of what Helo had to do. He has had to deal with so much already…and now this..I remember actually being angry with the writers…I couldn't believe it…
Anyway…now that I'm over that…it is now one of my favorite scenes between Sharon and Helo because of two things…it's a huge turning point in the story for them, and it is FANTASTIC acting…I was at a BSG convention recently and asked Tahmoh about this particular scene. He said that even though it was probably the most difficult scene he ever had to act in, it was very rewarding for both him and Grace. It was a challenge that they both looked forward to, and they are better actors because of it. And that it was difficult, but they were not worried about it too much because they deeply trust each other as actors, and knew they could do together…so, yeah…and he said when he read script for the first time that he cried when he read this scene…ohh, that just makes me want to cry again…anyway…
I've had this in my head for a while…and finally got it down…hope you like it…
Blood On My Hands
He can't deny how much things have changed. But what doesn't change in a war? It forces the most painful truths out of the deepest caverns of your heart. It is a time when secrets are dangerous, and can kill thousands.
He hated secrets, but since the war began, has learned to keep them. He's the one married to a Cylon after all. Before the war changed, Karl C. Agathon can never have seen himself here. A husband and a father. In a room with a woman he has loved for so long, he couldn't remember when he realized it first. Those years were agony. As he watched and accepted that she was in another man's arms. Yet, there were days back then, when she was only his. His Sharon, like on Caprica. Like she is now.
He remembered that night. If he closed his eyes he could even smell it. The sweat and the rain on their skin. His heart beat faster with the memory. There was no mistrust. No Cylons. It was the beginning of everything for them. Helo opened his eyes and focused. "Sharon…" he begged. "Don't make me do this."
"Hera's alive," she said, turned away from him. "I'm her mother, and I'm going to get her."
Helo unbuttoned the top of his uniform jacket. He needed to breath. "Sharon, baby, listen to me, okay? We could take a Raptor, we can fly to the baseship ourselves. I don't—I don't care anymore." Anything. Anything but this.
Sharon shook her head. "We can't," she said in a struggled whisper.
"We'll find another way," he nodded. "We will," he said, trying to convince himself.
"There's a no other way."
With a pained sigh, Helo began to pace. He couldn't, he couldn't do this. "Don't ask me to do this, Sharon." She finally turned to face him, but he couldn't look her in the eye. She was begging him, and with one look, Helo knew he would surrender.
"Listen to me." But he couldn't. He turned away from her, crossing his arms. He wouldn't do this. "You have always been the strong one. You believed in us when no one else would."
Helo closed his eyes as she stood and stepped before him. He wasn't strong enough for this. "I'm begging you to do this," she whispered. "Find the courage to do this for both of us, okay?" He looked away. She took his cheeks in her hands, forcing his eyes to hers. "You have to do this. It's the only way." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "It's gonna be okay," her voice wavered. He knew she had begun to cry. "You have to do it. Just do it, Karl."
His arms crushed her against him. Letting his forehead fall onto her shoulder. He remembered the first time she told him those words. That day on Caprica, almost three years ago. A moment he would regret for a lifetime. He was angry. Scared. And in agony. As he kept the gun on her, he fought with himself. He knew he loved her, but it was more that just that. While living and surviving together, he had fallen hard. He was madly in love with her. And if that is what it was then, what was it now?
Much has changed since that moment, but not them. He was still human, and she was still a Cylon, and he was still madly in love with her. Helo looked at her shoulder, where he knew the scar resided. A reminder of his guilt. Even in his anger, he couldn't find it in himself to kill her. How could he do it now?
They shouldn't be here. Shouldn't have to make this choice. When will all of this end? The suspicion and lies. They sickened him. He thought they trusted her. Almost two years in her cell. Almost two years of only fifteen minutes a day. And even after the uniform, and the trust, and the lives she alone has saved, they lied. But not just about anything…but about this. Two years of mourning and they had to learn from Boomer, from the enemy, that Hera was still alive. Why does it always have to come to a choice you never want to make?
Sharon choked down a sob. "I love you," she whispered.
Helo closed his eyes as a tear fell down his cheek. "I love you, too."
She squeezed him against her one last time, before holding his shoulders at arms length. He kept one arm around her, reaching to his hip with the other. With a shaky moan of disbelief, he hand gripped his pistol, pulling it from the holster. Helo glanced at her, both sets of eyes pleading with the other.
He raised his gun against her abdomen. "I love you," he whispered once more. Sharon nodded in support. He clenched his eyes shut and pulled the trigger. A single shot echoed through the silence and she fell limp against him. The gun clattered to the floor as he gripped her body close to him. More tears fell as an angry scream tore at his lips.
Helo fell to his knees. "Gods, forgive me." He set his cheek on hers and kissed her still warm skin. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…"
He cradled her there until the blood stopped flowing and her skin grew cold and pale. He laid her down gently, brushing the hair from her face, leaving a light smudge of blood. His palms were smeared red.
Someone pounded on the door, calling his name. He must be late for his watch, but he didn't move. The door opened eventually, but he didn't look up. A vague sound of retreating footsteps, running down the hall registered in his mind.
The President would come. The Admiral as well. They had put the whole Fleet at risk, but that didn't matter.
All Karl C. Agathon cared about at this moment, was her blood on his hands.