How much more, O God? How much longer?
Some days, it is not as bad as it is others.
Self-made distractions work occasionally. Exercising. Sit ups. Push ups. Stretches. She does the best she can to keep herself toned and healthy, not just for her own sake, but for the precious life that grows within her. Running is out of the question... there just isn't room.
There are the occasional visits from people.
Helo visits when he can. He talks about his duties, those he can discuss with her at least. About the card games, and who has been winning the most. Banal things. The time is limited. And it's not like she has a lot to talk about. The most exciting part of her day is what flavor of jello is included in the evening meal.
The worst days are when he stands there, looking at her, phone held to his face but remaining wordless. Looking into his eyes, she Sees him. Everything he is thinking, all that he can convey with that Look and handsome face, the furrowed brows and tense jaw muscles. Things like, "How are you really doing? How can you stand it, being in this frakking cage? How long are they going to keep you like this? Is the baby ok? Do you realize how important you are to me? Do you know how you are in my thoughts every day?"
The guards roughly say, "Time's up." Visiting hours are over. The zoo is closed for now.
Every now and again, she senses that she has visitors, even though no one speaks to her. The one-sided glass hides them from her. She ignores the feeling, but can't help wondering who is on the other side. Admiral Adama? Starbuck? Roslin? Does it really matter though, since they don't see her as enough of a person, a human, to be willing to show themselves and carry on a conversation through the phone? Even a stilted one? They never speak to her but she knows what they are thinking. They all think the same thing when they look at her. "How can I trust you?"
She's heard that there are humans on the Astral Queen who have been like this for more than twenty years and finds it beyond comprehension, even though she knows it is fact. For her, every day that passes seems to bring the raging animal within that much closer to shrugging her off, peeling the skin and sinew and bone aside and bursting out with a roar of agony, frustration, desperation. Rage.
It escaped once. No, truthfully she released it with a purpose, not knowing what other route to take. The thought of losing the baby had been too much for her to bear, not after giving so much of herself and receiving so little in exchange. So the animal came out, and raged futilely, ramming against the glass walls over and over until it'd been subdued, pushed back inside by the sheer number of people holding her down. Tranquilized by the drugs and leashed again.
The wounds on her forehead flame anew with agony at the memory of that day. Not at the injury itself or how it happened, but the anguish of realizing that their baby's life could be stolen at a moment's notice. A deliberate tactical decision made by humans. Not an accident or happenstance, that would have been God's will.
More and more often, she finds herself unconsciously walking inside the perimeter of the glass for hours. Feels the tension in her whole frame, muscles aching with it, the metal floor warm with the pad and glide of her bare feet. Circling around and around, first one direction, and then the other, staring outward past the glass to the ship beyond. To the universe beyond. To freedom.
God willing, both she and her little girl will experience it again. He works in mysterious ways.