Chapter 19 Present
The next time the Centurions came, they came without an accompanying skin-job…and they didn't bother shackling her. Instead, each of the pair grasped an arm and 'escorted' her from the room. As they halted before the door to the cell immediately to the side of her own, she understood then why the shackles and hood had been deemed unnecessary for the short trip.
Curiosity—and a dark premonition—tightened her gut as the door swung inward. Her eyes widened and she sucked in a lungful of air as she attempted to rush forward, pulling against the restraining grips on her elbows.
The boy next door. That's my Sammy.
Her thoughts scattered down different paths, trying to avoid the full impact of the chained man that hung from the ceiling in a cell identical to her own.
Damn it, Sam! Can't I leave you alone without you getting in frakkin' trouble!
Her jaw twitched as she clamped down on all the words that were on the tip of her tongue. She hardly noticed the door clang shut behind her as her eyes locked with those of her husband. Green to blue, thoughts and feelings flashed back and forth in the first few seconds: relief that the other was alive, longing after their separation, and concern as each took in the physical condition of their spouse. Then, finally fear at what the other's presence implied. In that moment, Kara accepted that she loved this man. She could no longer doubt what she felt.
With a swallow, she tore her eyes from those balmy blue ones and glared at the woman at his side. D'Anna met her gaze with a small grin.
"Like my surprise?" she asked. "I would've wrapped him for you if I could've found a big enough bow." She gave the man's bare chest a pat as she added, "I'm afraid I let Six play with him some first. Hope you don't mind."
Kara's eyes narrowed. It wasn't hard to see how much playing the crazy blonde had already done; Sam's torso was splotched with colorful bruises.
We're a matching set now, huh, Sammy.
As the skin-job gave him another pat, Kara saw Sam wince and only the metal fingers still clamped on her arms kept her from launching at the bitch in front of her. Grinding her teeth, Kara met her husband's gaze again. He gave the barest of nods to her slight head tilt. Both knew why they'd been brought in together. Knew what the Cylon planned and that neither could afford to break to save the other.
Rage. Hate. Vengeance. Starbuck let them scour everything else away and used them to plate walls around her feelings for the bruised man before her. Steeling herself, she turned to D'Anna and silently met her speculative gaze.
D'Anna pulled a knife from her pants pocket and flicked it open. Kara's nostrils flared as she immediately recognized it. It was hers, the one Kendra Shaw had given her…and the one Leoben had taken from her that first day. Her eyes darted to Sam's then back to the blade as the skin-job used the tip to clean her stubby fingernails.
Looking up, D'Anna caught her staring at the knife.
"Nice toy. And so sharp." She touched the edge to her fingertip and a drop of red beaded, and then she sucked on the small wound, never letting her gaze drop from Kara's.
"Sharper than the dullard holding it," Kara bit out, unable to resist rising to D'Anna's little taunt. She tore her gaze away as the corner of the Cylon's lip lifted in satisfaction. She couldn't—wouldn't—let the Toaster get to her.
Damnit, gotta be stronger than this.
"Kara, don't," Sam said as he locked eyes with her.
D'Anna turned to face him as he spoke. Her hand shot out and she slapped him. "You had your chance to talk. Now it's your wife's turn."
Kara instinctively jerked forward, only to be reminded that she wasn't going anywhere, the Centurions' grip effectively locking her in place. She fought to slide her Triad mask into place. It was hard, but she'd succeeded before D'Anna swiveled around to face her again.
"Like I told your good-looking fella here, it's your turn." D'Anna waved the guards to pull Kara off to the side and stepped slightly sideways herself so she could see both Kara and Sam at the same time.
The repositioning wasn't lost on either prisoner. The skin-job wanted to be sure she could watch Kara's reaction to whatever she was going to do to her husband. On entering the cell and seeing him strung up, she knew D'Anna intended to use them as leverage against each other. Sam knew it, too. They'd made promises with their eyes not to give in or give up, no matter what the frakkers did to the other.
Lords of Kobol, this can't be happening. Don't let this be happening…
She tautly watched D'Anna lift the weapon and run the flat of the blade down the center of Sam's chest. She saw the way the woman's eyes repeatedly darted to her own, trying to gauge her reaction. Let the frakker try. It took more than luck to win at cards and Starbuck had mastered the mask of indifference a long time ago.
Disappointment briefly tinged the Toaster's features before they hardened. With a twist of the wrist, the knife was turned and D'Anna drew a long slash length-wise across the exposed skin. Sam drew in a sharp breath but otherwise didn't react to the shallow slice along his ribs. Blood trailed down his light skin in rivulets and soaked into the fabric of his waistband.
"I'm going to tell you how this goes," D'Anna said as she flashed the blooded knife. "I hurt your hunk of a hubby here until you beg me to stop. That simple. I'm not really into all this S&M stuff, so ask me nicely, convince me how cooperative you can be, and I'll stop."
Kara let her flat stare be her answer.
"Oh, I knew you'd take some persuading. But that's ok." The Cylon woman again patted the bare torso. "Samuel here seems a healthy specimen. I'm sure if he must, he can endure for hours…or days. How about you?"
Again, Kara held her tongue and face still. Iron silence was the only acceptable answer to the Cylon's taunts.
Seeing the metal flash out and draw another line of red, Kara's green eyes locked to Sam's blue ones. They kept their connection as more slashes streaked his torso with crimson. She couldn't miss how his muscles quivered with each downward stroke of the blade, nor did the tightening in the corners of his lips and eyes go unnoticed. Mentally chanting curses, Kara held…and held. Even when she heard his breathing take on a ragged note, she held her silence, though her own breaths took up a matching rhythm.
A part of her saw a trickle of blood form at the corner of Sam's mouth and knew he was biting his lip to keep from moaning. The coppery taste in her own confirmed that she was matching him in this too, tongue bleeding as she bit down on the growing impulse to speak. Sweat beaded both of their faces despite the chill of the cell. In a strange way, they were synchronized in a way they'd only ever achieved before during sex.
She was so immersed into Sam that it took a few moments before Kara realized that D'Anna had moved back and was staring at her, perplexed. Kara blinked her eyes against a droplet of sweat that had trickled from her brow. The connection with Sam broken, she saw that the Cylon woman was lightly slapping the flat of the blade against her thigh as she regarded Kara. Pushing all the hate she could into her eyes, Kara let the mask slide aside.
"Ok. Seems I miscalculated a little." D'Anna glanced from one figure back to the other. "I thought you loved your husband. Maybe I was mistaken?"
Kara was caught off guard. She did the barest of flinches before darting a glance at Sam. Returning her glare to the skin-job, she saw a speculative look cross the woman's face. Had the Toaster seen her momentary flash of guilt? Frak! She slammed her mask back in place, trying to re-establish the connection with Sam.
"What do you think, Mr. Anders? Does the missus seem rather unconcerned for your welfare?" D'Anna asked as she looked back and forth between the two. "Has Starbuck strayed on you?"
Now it was Sam's turn to be unable to hide his involuntary reaction as his chin jerked out. Kara's heart sank at this too visible sign that her husband knew she'd not kept to their wedding vows.
"Oh, so!" D'Anna gloated. "She hasn't been the dutiful little woman. Cockled you, huh?" Looking back at Kara, the Cylon woman's eyes lit with a malicious delight. "Bet it was that handsome Apollo. That towel of his couldn't cover his…assets."
Her words were met with stony silence by both. Yet, Kara could tell the other woman wasn't fooled. She'd seen the flicker of betrayal cross Sam's face and Kara's slight headshake.
"I seem to have the wrong man," said D'Anna. "Hmmm, Starbuck and Apollo. I'd heard rumors bandied about the fleet. It looks like there was truth to them." She looked at Sam, tapping the flat of the blade now on his chest. "I'd also heard that the younger Adama had taken command of the Pegasus…and gotten hitched. So, what are you? Starbuck's rebound boy?"
"I married Sam first, you frakkin' Toaster!" Starbuck spit out, and then realized her mistake, letting the skin-job and guilt goad her into saying anything. She quickly clamped her mouth shut and forced her features back to their impassive mask. But it was too late. She'd already shown the Cylon female too much.
"So, who dumped whom?" D'Anna moved to stand in front of Kara. "Did Apollo get tired of you? No? Maybe he learned what damaged goods you are. Is that it?" The Cylon quirked an eyebrow. "Were you not good enough? Papa Adama object to his perfect son getting mixed up with common trash?" D'Anna walked a slow circle around Kara before stopping back in front again, leaning in close as she said, "Nothing special to look at. Word has it that you're a major screw-up. Let's see," pausing to tap a finger to her chin, "I believe Leoben referred to you as a cancer? Something you're momma said?"
Within Kara, rage blazed past the shields she'd put up and she slammed her forehead into the sneering face.
D'Anna stumbled back, hand raised to her gushing nose. Surprise and fury suffused her expression as she stared at the blood on her palm before returning her hand to her face to staunch the flow.
"You…little…bitch!" D'Anna said, her words partially muffled by the fingers she held pressed to her nose.
Starbuck's satisfaction at the Cylon woman's pain was short-lived. Her eyes widened and she paled when she read the intent in D'Anna's expression as the Cylon turned.
"No! NO—," her scream was cut off as the knife sank deep into Sam's abdomen. D'Anna gave it a hard twist before yanking it back out. Sam grunted as the blade pulled free, and then looked down at the gapping wound before raising bewildered eyes to Kara's.
She was sobbing now, her mask gone as she watched the blood flow across her husband's stomach. "Let me go! LET GO!" Kara thrashed in the implacable grip of the Centurions, struggling to break free, desperate to go to him.
A bloody hand gripped her chin as D'Anna forced her to meet her gaze. "This is on you, Starbuck. His pain. His death," the Cylon said. "This is what Leoben meant, isn't it? Pain surrounds you? Guess Apollo was the lucky one to get away scot-free, huh?"
She couldn't breathe…couldn't breathe. She knew she was sucking air in and out in gasps but it wasn't enough. Hearing D'Anna's words pulled all the oxygen from the room and she was choking, vision graying out around the edges until she forced herself to focus on the mocking face before her.
It might not be too late. He might not…
"…please," the word whispered forth between her gasps. "Please…just let me help him. Please!" Her words picked up volume as she begged D'Anna. "Whatever you want…just…please!"
D'Anna's brows rose in surprise, then lowered again in triumph and a smile turned her lips up. She gave a nod to the Centurions and they released their hold.
Kara slipped around the Cylon and moved to stand before Sam's drooping form. With shaking hands, she pressed on the wound, seeking some way to stem the steady flow of blood. Turning back to D'Anna, "He needs help. A doctor. I've gotta—" she broke off as Sam called her name.
"Kara," he repeated, voice husky with pain. "Don't baby…Don't give em…just don't." He paused as a shudder shook his body beneath her hands. "Damn… Wasn't…supposed to end…not this way."
"Sam…no. No, please, don't…" she pleaded as blood oozed between her fingers. Kara's gaze darted from Sam's lopsided smile back to his stomach. Dropping her hands, she struggled to remove her sweatshirt, cursing as the zipper snagged. With a yank, she pulled it over her head and pressed it hard against his lean stomach, then pressed herself up against him, trapping her right hand and shirt between their bodies. Her left hand stole behind his neck and she reached up and gently kissed him on the lips, tasting their mingled blood.
"I'm sorry, Sammy," she murmured against his mouth. "Never shoulda let you get close either."
"Not—" he broke off with a grimace, then continued, "…not you're fault… Kara Anders, I chose you…pain in the ass…and all." His eyelids drooped and Kara gave his hair a tug, and they opened again.
"Damnit, you can't-can't go… I love you. You hear me. Samuel T Anders. I love you," she spoke the words low and forceful, praying that he could hear how much she meant them, that he could forgive her for all the shit she'd brought into his life.
His eyes were closing again and Kara could hear his breathing shallowing out, feel the slowing of the heartbeat against her breast.
Frak it, Sammy. You can't leave me alone!
She wanted to rage and shout at him, but instead, kept those words locked tightly in her throat as she stroked the back of his head and instead breathed against his ear her love over and over, trying to make up for all the missed opportunities in their past.
She felt his chest still against hers.
"That was touching… Really," the voice mocked from behind her. Kara shut her eyes but didn't respond. "Too bad it was all unnecessary. If only you'd learn to obey. Damn shame. Good looking guy."
As she opened her eyes, grief and guilt roiled her vision to a red mist and Kara wheeled and threw herself at D'Anna, striking out and catching the Cylon across the jaw. She lashed out with a second punch, then a third before something connected with her temple and she crumpled into darkness.