A/N: Exit Strategies. Everyone loves angst and sacrifice, so I wrote this up. I mean, if the producers wanted, this could have been a wonderful, poignant moment. I find it quite telling that of the fan-rated top-ten moments (http/ eight are from seasons 1 and 2. So, this is how I envisioned it, once again from Rommie's perspective. I couldn't quite do my vision justice, though.
"Reactor overload. Power Reactor One going critical. Unable to vent due to damage in the AP line."
Ship-self was calm as always, but I was panicking. Hell, I was a psychotic wreck. Stopping Harper from killing himself almost sent me over the edge. I felt useless. I was still in pieces, barely able to move. So many holes in me it would takes months to fix. My chief engineer - my protector, the only person who could ever fill that role - was suicidal and probably in a drunken stupor. What good is a warship that can't fight, whose crew is cracking under the strain?
He sat there, sidearm in hand. I didn't care what happened to me anymore. He HAD to live. If I could, I would tear those damn larvae out of him... but I couldn't. He'd die, if he wasn't dying now. I saw the daily reports of how they drained his system, sucked the life out of him...but I had to do something. I got angry.
"Harper, if you don't get in there and fix that line, we'll blow up! Do you hear me? You're going to die!"
Yeah, not we're all gonna die, or we're both going to die, but you're going to die. I didn't matter. I saw him vanishing in the light of my cataclysmic overload, and I couldn't stand it. I was a warship, death was an inevitability for me. An ugly, miserable death. But him? He'd seen more of hell than I could imagine. He deserved more from life. He deserved more than me- just a plastipolymer machine.
"Good. 'Cause in case you didn't notice when I had that gun shoved into my gut, I WANT to die. I don't wanna live another day with these freakin' monsters inside of me."
I didn't care that he turned his bitterness against me. The pain was excruciating, but I could take it. I could take it if he lived. Time was ticking down.
"Harper, look. I know how you feel."
Keep talking, get him to listen. Empathize with him- he managed to do the same for us.
"Hah! What have you been drinking? You don't know how I feel."
Oh, Harper. Please. But I have more important things to worry about than the simulacra of feelings he programmed into me. I have to get him to save himself. Dig deep, Rommie, and get the job done. Something tore inside of me, and all my fear came bubbling out. There was jsut enough restraint to keep me from telling him how I felt.
"What about inside of me? The only reason we encountered the Magog world-
ship in the first place is because some backup copy inside of me – a me I didn't even
know existed – came out! Came out and started shooting, tried to kill us – ALL of us.
What else is there inside of me? What other demons do I have to worry about?"
Silence.
"Reactor critical in seventy seconds."
Just over a minute to get him going.
"That's why you can't die, Harper. Because I need you. And if you're gone, who's going to fix me?"
He thought about it. No, he didn't. I like to imagine that he actually has feelings for me, and those feelings drove him to save us both. I don't know, though. I guess I never will. He banged his head against the wall, gritted his teeth, and got moving. I started sobbing as soon as I thought he couldn't hear me. Like I said, something tore, and it hurt. It hurt a lot.
When I look back, I don't know if I could have put him out of his misery if he wanted me to. I guess I have a shade of humanity after all.
