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Author: JPBryant
Characters: Sharon/Helo
Rating: Mature, for descriptions of violence, language and sexual situations.
Spoilers: Through 'A Measure of Salvation", everything after that is AU.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Helo is forced to take drastic measures to protect his family after a series of events aboard Galactica open his eyes to the reality he and Sharon face. Set after "A Measure of Salvation", it goes completely AU after that.
A/N: The third of seventeen chapters to the story, I'll be posting them as I finish them. Thanks to wintergreen126, jazmin22, and honibrownhateza for beta'ing this story.

Chapter 3

Please Gods no...

His lungs burned from exertion as he flew down the corridor, crashing through and past anyone unable to get out of his way. The sound of her scream echoed in his mind, growing louder and more desperate as each second passed, driving him faster towards the infirmary.

"Move!" he shouted as he ran, the crowded hallway parting before him, and a wake of confused onlookers left behind him.

Running at full speed, he could hear the admiral's words mixing with her screams, and his panic grew.

Please Gods, please no...

Making the last turn into the infirmary, he could hear the voice of Cottle barking orders to the nurses and monitors beeping frantically. But the sight was too much for his mind to process.

Blood.

Too much blood.

Oh Gods, no...

Blood on the floor, on the sheets, and on the nurses that worked on her still form. Sharon was pale, unmoving, the color in her face and lips drained of life.

"No," he cried, rushing towards her. A pair of arms wrapped around and held him tight before he could reach the bed on which she lay.

"No, Captain," the chief said, his voice straining as he tried to hold back the larger man. "Let them help her!"

Looking down, he saw the chiefs orange jumpsuit was painted in the same shade of red as everything else. And now her blood was on him as well, transferred from the chiefs clothing to his.

"Sharon," he called out, looking back to his wife. But she still made no motion. He struggled against the chief to reach her to no avail.

"Look at me, Captain," the chief yelled. "Look at me! She's alive, but you have to let them help her!"

Alive.

"Alive," he repeated, the word stopping him, the realization slowing his effort to get out of the other man's grasp.

"Yes, alive," the chief said, his grip on Helo slowly lessening. When Helo ceased fighting him completely, the chief let his head collapse against Helo's shoulder. "Gods, Captain, I'm sorry."

Helo's eyes stayed on his wife, a mere ten meters away, and watched as Cottle and the nurses continued to work on her. Standing there helplessly, he felt the adrenaline slowly seeping from his system, the loss of the hormone threatening to send his body to the floor. "What...what happened?"

"I...I don't know," the chief replied, pulling away and averting his eyes. "She didn't make a sound. I found her on the deck..." The chief closed his eyes and lowered his head, unable to continue.

"What happened?" Helo repeated, grabbing Tyrol's arm and shaking him. "Tell me!"

"She was lying there. I thought she was dead," the chief managed, his expression pained. "Someone...someone tried to kill her."

Helo shook his head. "No," he said, the truth too much for him.

"Someone put a knife in her, Captain," Tyrol said through clenched teeth, anger overtaking him for a brief moment before it gave way back to his guilt. The chief's eyes searched the floor, unfocused. "I thought she was dead, but then she reached out to me, and I..."

The chief couldn't finish the sentence, but Helo didn't need him to. The blood on Tyrol's clothes told the rest of the story; told Helo that the chief had carried Sharon here himself. There was a pain in the chief's eyes, a private pain that he tried to hide, but Helo's heart had no time for it.

"Captain," Cottle said, stepping away from the crowd surrounding his wife.

Helo took a step towards him, his eyes moving between Cottle and Sharon. "Doc, Please…" he said, the rest of the question stuck in his throat.

"Your wife's a lucky lady," Cottle replied, snapping off his surgical gloves and tossing them onto the floor as he approached. "For someone who's been stabbed three times."

"No…" Helo whispered, shutting his eyes as anguish rolled over him. "Tell me she's okay."

"No, she's not okay. But if her luck holds up, she will be." The doctor pushed his hands into the pockets of his white jacket and looked back at Sharon. "She's lost a lot of blood, but we got to her in time and managed to stop it. I still need to wait for the scans to get back, but it looks like nothing vital was hit."

Helo nodded numbly as he listened to the doctor speak, keeping his eyes on Sharon.

"Like I said," Cottle continued "She lost a lot of blood, but we've stopped the bleeding, and we're closing up the last wound now. I've given her some human plasma to help make up for the loss. It's not as good as the stuff she normally has pumping through her veins, but it'll keep her alive."

"Gods…" Helo said quietly, the doctor's words tearing through him. He watched as two nurses still tended to her, appearing poised and steady to his untrained eye. On the ground he recognized the tattered remains of her flight suit, cut away from her body, and soaked in blood.

"My number once concern is that there's internal bleeding we can't see yet," Cottle continued, turning to join Helo in looking at Sharon. "But for now, all we can do is wait."

The chief placed a hand on Helo's shoulder, squeezing tightly. "It's gonna be okay, Captain, Doc will take care of her."

Helo didn't reply, finding no comfort in the chief's words.

As obvious as it was that the doctor was doing everything he could to keep her alive, he couldn't push away the feeling that he had been here before, listening to the gray-haired man tell him that someone he loved would be all right, only for his world to fall apart in the blink of an eye. He would never forget the last time he had seen his daughter alive, sleeping peacefully with the ship's doctor staring down at her through the glass.

He glanced down at the old doctor and could see the concern in Cottle's eyes. A small wave of guilt passed through Helo for blaming this man who had tried to do so much for his family. Looking back at Sharon, he knew she was only alive because of him.

"Doctor, I..." Helo started. He opened his mouth to try and find the words again, but the entrance of Admiral Adama and his son cut him short.

"How is she?" the admiral asked Cottle, his eyes joining everyone else's on Sharon.

"She should make it," Cottle replied.

"So someone finally tried it," Lee said muttered quietly to himself, shaking his head. "I'm surprised it took this long."

Helo felt his fist crash into Lee's face with a loud crack, snapping the other man's head back sharply. Tumbling backward, Lee blindly threw out a hand to stop his fall, catching a cart of surgical instruments and bringing them with him as he crashed to the floor. In an instant, the room was in chaos once again, people rushing to stop Helo and help the CAG.

"You wanted this!" Helo roared, his emotions surging into a blinding rage. A tangle of hands and arms held him back as he tried to get to Lee. "You put her down there! You knew this would happen!"

Lee struggled to get off the ground, blood dripping profusely from his nose and lip. His eyes were unfocused and his balance unsteady as he pulled himself up. "You're frakking insane, Agathon," Lee spat out. His father was beside him now, taking Lee's arm to steady him, but Lee pulled his arm away quickly, shunning the support and leveling his gaze at Helo. "Did you really think this would work?"

"She's your pilot, Lee! She was on your watch, and you let this happen!" The chief and two nurses continued to hold Helo in place, but he no longer struggled against them. He pointed an accusing finger at the CAG. "You wanted this to happen!"

"I didn't want this!" Lee shot back, wiping the blood from his nose with his sleeve. "But this is reality, Karl. How did you think this would end? Did you think that this would never happen? Do you think it won't happen again? She's a frakking Cylon, Karl!"

"Frak you!" Helo snarled. "She's one of us!"

"She's not one of us, Karl!" Lee answered, matching Helo's intensity. "She'll never be one of us! Don't you get it?"

"Enough!" the admiral shouted, his voice filling the room.

Helo's nostrils flared as his breath came out in ragged bursts, every muscle in his body standing on edge. The hands holding him back slowly let go, with the chief having maneuvered himself between the two men, acting as a buffer. A steadily beeping monitor in the background joined the sound of his pulse pounding in his ears, and then a voice spoke through the silence.

"Helo," Sharon called weakly.

The sound of her voice grabbed hold of him. He looked to see her eyes shut tightly, her mouth twisted in a grimace of pain. In an instant he was by her side, standing at the top of the bed while two nurses finished suturing the last wound. Blood had dried in haphazard, erratic streaks across her chest and torso.

He reached out to take one of her bloody hands, the edges of her fingernails encrusted in dark crimson.

"I'm here," he said, squeezing her hand. "I'm here, Sharon."

Her eyes were full of confusion as she looked around, clearly unaware where she was, or what was happening. She glanced down to see what was being done, and the confusion transformed into panic. Without warning she grabbed at Helo, the energy and force of the motion surprising him as she tried to pull herself off the bed. "Helo, don't let them touch me," she cried. With her other arm she pushed at the hands finishing the last sutures. "Please, don't let them touch me," she begged.

Lost by her reaction, Helo looked helplessly at his wife. "Sharon, they're trying to help," he urged, leaning over and pressing his forehead to her temple as he grabbed the hand that was fighting off the nurses. "Don't fight, Sharon," he whispered, trying to get her under control.

"No, don't let them, Helo," she pleaded, now struggling to free her hands from his. Her eyes came up to meet his, and all he could see was fear and panic. "Don't leave me here, Helo."

He pulled her hands close, holding them tightly. "I'm not going anywhere, I prom-"

"Don't leave me here," she cried again, her eyes pleading with him. Her hands stopped trying to escape his, and instead reached up to try and take him in her arms. "Take me home, Helo."

His feeling of helplessness grew as he heard the need in her voice. "Sharon, you're hurt," he said, his voice breaking as he denied her. "I can't do that."

Her hands were on his sleeves now, trying once more to pull herself out of the bed. "Please, Helo," she begged, her voice irrational with fear, a tear falling from her eye as she continued to try and force herself into his arms.

He crouched beside her, letting her wrap her arms around his neck. Looking across her pale body, he could see the blue sutures that held her together, stained with blood that seeped from the wounds. The rest of the room watched them as she cried silently into his shoulder.

"Take me home," she whispered between sobs.

Helo closed his eyes, unable to deny her any longer. He could feel her cold skin under his fingers and her tears on his neck. Swallowing hard past the lump in his throat, he stood slowly.

"Okay," he whispered back. Wrapping the blood-stained sheet over her body, he slipped his arms gently under her. "Okay, let's go."

"What are you doing?" Cottle asked from over his shoulder.

"Are you ready?" he asked softly. She nodded as he positioned himself to lift her from the bed. "Keep your arms around my neck, Sharon. Here we go."

As carefully as he could, he picked her up off the bed, a sharp hiss escaping her lips as he did so. He waited for the pain to subside and for her breath to steady before continuing. After she took a few even breaths, he turned gently and took a step towards the door.

Cottle moved directly into his path, standing between them and the exit. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Cottle asked in shock. "Put her down this instant!"

Helo didn't move. Moments ago he had been torn between her need to leave and his belief that she needed to stay. But her need overpowered his better judgment, and it was no longer a question.

"I'm taking her to our quarters," Helo said calmly. "She doesn't want to be here."

Cottle shook his head and pointed back to the bed authoritatively. "Put her back down," he demanded. "I can't help her if you take her out of here."

Helo looked at the old doctor, and shook his head.

"Are you going to help her the way you helped Hera?"

The words struck Cottle, causing him to flinch visibly. Helo took the opening and pushed by the doctor, heading towards the door. In his peripheral vision he could see the admiral and the chief watching, but neither of them made a move to intercede, and a second later he was out the door with her in his arms.

------

"Everything's going to be okay," he told her as he made his way to their quarters. She nodded slightly, her breathing shallow and uneven.

People stared in shock at the site of the XO carrying his wife down the hall in a bloody sheet, but his mind was focused solely on getting her home. He walked slowly, trying to insulate her from any additional pain. She had tried at first to hide her misery from him, but by the time they reached their quarters she was simply holding her breath, her face buried against his chest, her eyes shut tight.

Crossing the threshold, he carried her to the bed and set her down gently upon it. Her eyes remained closed as he carefully slid the stained sheet out from under her and pulled the bed cover over. Steeling himself, he knelt down to examine her wounds, and found all three had re-opened. He grimaced as he counted half-a-dozen sutures that had opened from the long walk.

He stood up to go find something to staunch the trickle of blood, but she grabbed his wrist before he could walk away. She looked up at him through dark eyes, but didn't say a word.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sharon," he comforted her. Taking her hand he gently placed it back on the bed. "I'm right here."

She closed her eyes once more, her breath steadier than before. But the sight of her pale body against the familiar dark sheets of their bed sent him quickly back to his task. Opening his locker, he grabbed his clean tanks and came back, pressing the cloth lightly against her wounds to soak up the blood that seeped through. Checking and rechecking the sutures, he could see they would need to be re-sewn, and tried to figure out how it could be done.

Unsure what else to do, he sat beside her silently, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath. And before long she was asleep, her eyes moving quickly beneath their lids. He wondered what she dreamt of on a morning like this, and wished he could join her wherever she was.

He looked at his watch and saw it had been less than thirty minutes since he had walked into the CIC. His shift was just about to start.

Walking to the bathroom, he stared into the mirror. The lower half of his jacket was stained dark from her blood, and small trails of red streaked his neck and hands. Pulling off the jacket, he dropped it to the floor, and then washed the rest of the blood from his body. When he finished, he pulled his towel from the rack and wet it before stepping back into the room.

Sitting back down beside her, he started with her hands, wiping away the red that stained her olive skin. As he did so, he could see the moment in his mind. He could picture her lying on the flight deck, trying to stop the flow of blood with her bare hands, watching as her life poured onto the ground.

He moved to her torso and stomach, gently dabbing away the blood that had pooled in her navel, then to her legs, where it had seeped the flight suit, which now sat in tatters in the infirmary. He wondered if she would ever need, or even want, another one.

He went back to the sink three times to rinse out the red-stained towel, and through it all, she slept. When he finally finished cleaning her, he stood up to return to the sink one last time. But as he did so, he noticed something he had missed; a single red fingerprint standing out on her brass dog tags, a perfect outline of her perfect, delicate finger tip.

-----

A knock on the door woke him from his light sleep. He lifted his head off the floor and stretched his aching muscles, working out a small cramp in his thigh. Rising to his feet in the darkness, another knock rang through the room as he looked down to check on Sharon.

She was still asleep, as she had been most of the day except for a few minutes here and there. He listened carefully for the sound of her breath and heard it, even and regular. Peering down at his watch he was surprised to see how late it was, the extended passage of time explaining the stiffness in his joints; he had only meant to sleep for fifteen minutes.

Again, a knock echoed through the room. He hadn't bothered to see who the last few visitors were, tired of sending friends away. Though they all came with good intentions and well wishes, neither Sharon nor he needed or wanted the additional company.

He had no intention of answering the door this time either, but this visitor was persistent, banging on the hatch again, and startling Sharon in her sleep.. Walking over he cracked the door, expecting to find Racetrack returning for the third time, not the man who stood before him.

"May I come in?" Cottle asked after a few seconds passed in silence, the two men staring at one another.

"She's asleep," Helo replied, making no move to open the door.

Cottle lifted his black medical bag. "I didn't pack this thing and walk all the way down here for the exercise, Captain."

Helo glanced over his shoulder at Sharon, stirring in their bed, then back at Cottle.

"Listen to me, Captain," Cottle said insistently, locking eyes with Helo. "I want to help. I want to help you protect your family. Now open the Gods damned door and let me in."

Reluctantly, Helo opened the hatch and let the doctor step into the darkened room. Resigned to the man's presence, Helo reached over to the wall and turned on the lights.

Sharon lifted a hand to shade her eyes, turning her head to the door to see who had entered. Seeing Doctor Cottle, she eyed him warily, then looked to Helo for reassurance, but he had none to offer. Earlier in the day she had begged him to take her away from this man, and now he was here in their home.

"How are you feeling?" Cottle asked, setting his bag down on the nightstand.

Sharon didn't reply as the doctor reached out a hand and placed it on her forehead, keeping the silence she had held since she had been brought back to their quarters. Helo could see she was uncomfortable with the other man's contact, but Cottle seemed unconcerned.

"Any fever?" he asked her. "Nausea?"

"No," Helo replied for her.

"Has she eaten anything?" Cottle asked, turning to Helo.

"No," he repeated.

The doctor moved his hand down to Sharon's, placing two fingers in her grip. "Squeeze as hard as you can, Lieutenant."

She did as he asked, and he shook his head.

"You can do better than that," Cottle chided. "I've felt those hands around my neck, I know what kind of grip you have." The doctor nodded as she tried again. "Okay, that's better."

"What about the scans, Doc?" Helo asked nervously. He had spent the day worrying that something out of his sight might threaten Sharon.

"The scans are fine," Cottle said, his eyes staying on Sharon. "I'd like the check your sutures, Lieutenant. Is that okay?"

Sharon nodded slightly and closed her eyes as Cottle folded back the blanket. He handed Helo the makeshift cloth bandages as he removed them, and let out a small sigh as he examined the wounds. The doctor looked over at Helo.

"These need to be redone," Cottle said. "Will you let me?"

Helo let out a long, slow breath, knowing the doctor was right. "Yeah, that's fine."

Dragging the lone chair in the room to the side of the bed, Cottle sat down and lifted his bag into his lap. Sharon opened her eyes slightly to watch the doctor's hands as he opened his bag and removed a small surgical kit. Taking a spot beside her, Helo knelt and took her hand, turning to look as the doctor cut the first loose suture free from her body and began to work.

And as Helo watched the old man care for Sharon, he couldn't hold back a small pang of guilt for the way he felt about the man. He had come alone to their quarters, in the middle of night to check on Sharon, a Cylon, knowing his only reward would be accusing stares and suspicion.

"Thanks, Doc," Helo said quietly, watching as Cottle gently removed another suture.

"My ex-wife and I had four kids," Cottle said, glancing up at Sharon and ignoring Helo's gratitude. The new topic wasn't one Helo particularly liked; people who brought up their past lives with Sharon often expected an apology, and always left without one. "Me, with four kids. Who would have guessed?"

Sharon's eyes stayed on Cottle, curious, but without emotion.

Cottle smiled to himself as he gently pressed a gauze bandage against one of the wounds. "You wouldn't believe how many times I had to patch them up after they did something stupid. Nothing like this of course. Nothing compared to the kind of stuff you see on a Battlestar." The doctor stopped his work to look up at Sharon. "But I'll bet I remember every time they scraped a knee or stepped on a piece of glass."

Helo didn't know what to make of the doctor's idle chatter, but Sharon's interest seemed to be growing by the second. Though she still remained expressionless, Helo saw it now required effort on her part to do so, a series of conflicting emotions flashing then vanishing behind her eyes.

"You think you can protect them," Cottle continued, shaking his head as he returned to the sutures. "You do everything you can to protect them. You tell them to wear their coat. Don't play with matches. Stop dating the creep on the pyramid team. The list never ends, and you never stop worrying."

Covering a set of sutures with a fresh bandage, Cottle continued to speak. Beside him, Sharon's breathing quickened.

"None of it matters though. None of it. Because it's the things you can't know that you need to worry about. And you know that." Cottle paused, his eyes coming up to Sharon's once again. "But even though you know you can't protect them from everything, you'll try anyways. That's normal."

Helo watched as Sharon's expression shifted, her eyes filling with life as she listened to the doctor speak. She squeezed Helo's hand tightly once, then twice. Her eyes came up to his full of hope, then looked back at Cottle. Something passed unspoken between her and the other man, and Sharon's grip on Helo's hand became iron tight.

"Tell me," she said quietly, hanging desperately on Cottle's words. "Tell me."

Cottle closed his eyes briefly, then offered a small smile. "From what I saw on the scans, your child is fine."

Helo nodded once, before the words had registered.

Your child is fine.

Sharon shut her eyes tightly, tilting her head back in overwhelming relief. But the reaction barely registered with Helo. He looked down at his wife, unable to feel her hand holding his, unable to see her lips move in silent prayer. She opened her eyes and looked up at him through dark eyes, her sickly complexion contrasting with the joy dancing in her eyes. Seeing his confusion, she placed a second hand on his and waited for him.

"Sharon?" he managed.

She shook her head slowly and looked down to where their hands met and intertwined. "I wanted this time to be different than last."

Helo's chest tightened, the shock taking hold of his body. "Sharon..."

"I wanted you to be happy," she said, returning her eyes to his and smiling weakly. "I wanted to see you smile when I told you."

"No," he said in disbelief, her words failing to reach him as his mind sorted through a thousand thoughts at once.

It wasn't possible, that's what they had been told. There had been too much damage done during Hera's birth; their dead child would be the only one Sharon would ever have. He could remember the day Cottle had told them.

But Cottle was here. Cottle had said the words.

Your child is fine.

And before his mind could say the words again, he knew it was true, and the meaning of the strange night before became clear.

"My Gods..."

He looked at his wife, broken and weak, smiling up at him through pale lips, and thought of the child that grew inside her. He thought about Hera, and the first time Sharon had given birth, and how it had nearly killed her.

"Sharon," he whispered, leaning over to press his cheek against hers, running a hand gently through her hair.

"Be happy, Helo," she whispered back, wrapping a single arm lightly around him.

"I am," he said, realizing in that instant that it was true. Despite the emotions of fear and worry flooding through him, it was joy, a joy he shared with her, one that overpowered everything else. "Gods I am, Sharon."

He sat up, just far enough to look at her, and smiled. Seeing him do so, she laughed once as she tried to hold back her tears, and his smile widened.

Hera had been a miracle. This child was beyond that, another chance to fulfill their dreams.

Helo reached down to wipe away the tear gathering at the corner of her eye. She mirrored his motion, reaching up to cup his cheek in her hand. Their smiles grew as they stared into each others eyes, oblivious to everything else, until a small sound behind him stole Sharon's attention. Turning to look, Helo saw the doctor still standing beside them, all but forgotten

Standing up slowly, Helo looked over at the man that had brought them the news. Years of built up animosity melted away as he reached out his hand to take Cottle's. Hesitantly, the old doctor placed his hand in Helo's, but when he did, Helo pulled him into a tight embrace, the power of the moment overtaking him.

"Thank you, Doctor," Helo said, hugging the man tightly. "Thank you."

When Helo finally released him, the doctor stared at the ground, seemingly taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor towards him. He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes moving between Helo and Sharon, till they stopped somewhere in between, unable to meet the gaze of either.

"I haven't told anyone else, I'll leave that up to you two," he said quietly. Turning to face Helo, Cottle's eyes stayed down, focusing on a spot on Helo's chest, still avoiding his eyes. "I didn't kill your daughter."

"I know," Helo said, knowing he had wronged this man. "I'm sorry."

Cottle paused, looking as if he had more to say, but turned away before he said another word. Picking up his bag, he began to collect his belongings.

Helo turned back to the bed, and took a seat beside her. Sharon's eyes shined with life despite the ordeals of the day. Lifting the blanket, he examined her fresh dressings, though she seemed unconcerned with her injuries. He set the blanket back down and leaned over, sharing a small kiss with her.

In the background he was vaguely aware of Cottle heading for the door, but all he could see was Sharon.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Good," she replied weakly, the smile never fading from her lips.

"Yeah?" he asked, kissing her once again.

"Yeah," she whispered.

Helo heard the hatch open and close, but something was out of place. He knew without looking that Cottle had yet to leave the room. He glanced towards the exit to see the doctor standing there, black bag still in hand as he faced the wall and stared at the ground.

"I didn't kill your daughter," Cottle said.

The words, repeated for the second time, sent a chill down Helo's spine.

Keeping his eyes on the floor, Cottle turned to face them. "She didn't die on my watch, or even aboard this ship."