Serendipity
Were it not that I have bad dreams...
Why now, Karl? She would say. You are really asking me to do that? And he would just stare at her, not knowing what to answer.
She tried to kill our daughter, his wife would add. Helo could already visualize the scene: Sharon sitting at the side of the bed, looking at him with reprobation, her brown eyes reflecting her surprise and incredulity. Hera would probably still be sleeping, her regular breathing barely audible, as Sharon's actually was right now.
The Human/Cylon coalition had reached the end of their journey. Earth. A sinister, radioactive and desolate mess. Helo hadn't imagined the Promised Land like that. For the moment, they were living in tents, hastily constructed shelters, maybe giving them the unconscious illusion that this situation was only temporary and that on the other side of the next hill, there would be green luxuriant grass growing, with why not an Ambrosia lake nearby.
Helo himself had found refuge in his thoughts. For him, the War was over. He considered himself as extremely lucky: his wife and child were safe and with him. So many times, he had been close to death. On Caprica, he only searched to survive. He managed that, and even found love. An unexpected, impossible love, but which made him the fortunate man he realized he was now. Baltar would know a fancy word for this, Helo thought, as he caressed the black hair - just slightly darker than the ambient obscurity - of his sleeping Cylon wife with his eyes.
I'm not a copy, I'm Sharon, she had answered to Starbuck's accusation. Helo remembered it as it was yesterday. So many things had happened since then. Atrocious things he wanted/tried to forget. Recently, perhaps because now he had a little more time and less urgent tasks to distract him, guilt feelings seemed to influence the direction of his thoughts. Helo had failed to protect Sharon on several occasions. She had been hurt, and he blamed himself for that. There was also the face of that other Sharon, the one he had encountered during the mission in the Resurrection Hub, which was sometimes floating before his eyes. Her beautiful face awfully distorted by sorrow and disappointment, and then, brutally, wearing the terrible mask of pain and Death. Helo could still feel her soft hands touching and massaging the crispated muscles of his neck. He had seen Sharon dead - Gods, he had shot her - and shouted his despair to the universe, but deep inside, there had been hope. Hope that she would come again.
And there was Boomer. Her childish face, as she pathetically tried to convince herself that of course, he was joking, of course, he wouldn't give his seat away and abandon her; later, the little boy sitting at her left, tears rolling on her both cheeks, and the Raptor gaining height, getting smaller and smaller, until Helo was alone, bathed by the last orange rays of the sunset and facing the angry and scared crowd.
Did this young and easily frightened rookie become a child murdering Cylon?
So, as he was examining the skin texture of Sharon's naked arms, transformed by some moonlight entering the tent through the plastic window into silver rivers, Helo wondered. I just want to know, that's all. He had realized that his wife had changed. Her Cyloness appeared more and more to be a burden to her. Sharon seemed uneasy in company of her people. Helo didn't totally understand it, - he loved her, that was enough for him - but he accepted it. They hadn't spoken much about some topics. The Cylon blonde called Natalie. The four "new" Cylons, representing the "Five". And Boomer.
Helo didn't exactly know what he expected Sharon to do. Maybe he only wanted to flatter his own conscience. And he was realizing that what he was hesitantly preparing himself to ask her would cost her more than him. Perhaps someone could give a hint. This woman, this Cylon, whose ECO he had been, was most probably dead. But he was hoping that Sharon would finally declare that she would try. All right Karl, maybe D'Anna knows something. He was hoping that his wife would be able to forgive him for this delusory quest. And, lastly, he was hoping that, if he really was condemned to this, the next time he would dream of her, there wouldn't be such an unbearably desperate look on Boomer's face.