Title: Even If…
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Email: stormwriter@shatterstorm.net
Rating: R for language and mature themes
Pairings: Caprica-Sharon, implied Sharon/Helo, implied Boomer/Chief
Category: internal monologue, angst, character development
Date: 4-5 January 2006
Word Count: 1374
Summary: Sharon's thoughts on her life since Caprica.
Spoilers: Second season, pre-"Pegasus"
Warnings: Darkfic, angst, spoilers for 1st 1/2 of second season
Website: ShatterStorm Productions – Frisked & Conquered
Link to: http://sff.shatterstorm.net/
Archive: ShatterStorm Productions only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…

Author’s Disclaimer: "Battlestar Galactica," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Ron Moore, David Eick, SciFi, R&D TV, Sky TV, and USA Cable Entertainment LLC. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Battlestar Galactica," SciFi, or any representatives of the actors whose characters are involved.

Author’s Notes: Written for jennyo's Female Gen Ficathon. More specifically, this challenge was written for anonymous_sybil, who simply asked for one of the Boomers.

Author's Notes, the Second: Second person POV in present tense isn't something I normally write in. Either part of it. This was definitely a challenge to write this story.

Betas: Lex & ctorres

"Even If…"
by A. Magiluna Stormwriter

Lords of Kobol, you wonder, what the frak are you doing? How much further can you frak up the lives of the people on Galactica? Of the whole fleet?

You even wonder why Roslin didn't throw you out the airlock like she threatened. Was it just for this baby you carry? For some sort of trump card over the Cylons? What does she think to gain by keeping you alive?

"Sharon?" You glance up to see Karl standing there, worry clouding his eyes.

Following his gaze, your eyes travel to your own stomach. You didn't realize your hands moved to cradle the growing bump so protectively. Obviously, you've been distracted by your thoughts. Then again, what else do you have to do but think?

"It's okay, Karl," you reply, injecting a far brighter tone to your voice than you feel. "I'm fine. We're both fine."

"Are you?" His voice is so soft, so…hurt. What in the names of the gods are you doing?

"Yes, I am," you reassure him. "I was just thinking, that's all."

That's right, Sharon. Tell him a few more lies. Tell all of them lies. Make them think you're less dangerous than you really are. Frak, you don't even know how dangerous you are, do you? And yet, here you are, still alive, still pregnant, still waiting to see just what havoc you can wreak before the Cylons find you and destroy you for the defect you are.

Frak him over, Sharon. Go ahead. You already know he'll let you. And while you're at it? Why don't you give Chief a little something to add to his burdens? Keep bringing up that affair your predecessor had with him. Keep reminding him how much Boomer loved him, wanted him, frakked him senseless.

"Sharon? What's going on? You're freaking me out here."

With a sigh you realize you're still spacing out on him. The poor lovable idiot would do anything for you, and you damned well know it.

"I'm just tired, Karl. I haven't exactly been sleeping all that well lately."

Well, at least you're not entirely lying about that. Do you tell him about the nightmares? The voices that you think may be the other copies of yourself? The self-recriminations that are oh-so-difficult to ignore? The memories of what Boomer did? The good and the bad?

"Maybe I should see if Doc Cottle can take a look at you," he says, breaking into your thoughts again. "I mean, we don't want anything happening to you or the baby, right? Not after…"

Not after you nearly lost it the last time. That's what he wants to say. But he won't, will he? He's too damned optimistic about what this baby will mean to you, to him, to the universe as you both know it. You fight back the ironic chuckle at just how naïve and innocent this supposed hardened pilot really is. Boomer's memories certainly don't support Karl "Helo" Agathon being quite this green. So how is it that he's like this around you? Can it really be solely because of the baby you're carrying?

"I'm sure it's just a matter of sleeping myself out," you reassure him. "Maybe I'll just start exercising a little more, exhaust myself so I can sleep." He starts to protest and you find your hand pressed to the glass wall, as if to cut off his words. "It won't be anything so strenuous as to do any damage to myself or the baby. Please, Karl, do you really think I'm that stupid?"

He actually looks hurt by that. Then again, your tone wasn't exactly all sweetness and light either, was it? Why do you keep doing this? Why are you leading him on with promises of a relationship? You know frakking well it won't happen. It's not like Roslin's going to suddenly change her mind and let you out of the brig. How many guards did they have on you when you almost lost the baby? And the old man certainly never comes anywhere near you without proper supervision. And you have to wonder if he's not thinking the same thing. It's not as if you didn't tell him you weren't like the other Sharon.

But are you really? Are you really any different from any of the others? If you die, you know your memories will be downloaded into the next clone, just Boomer's memories were downloaded into you when she died. Hell, technically, they were downloaded to you before she died. The Cylons have something planned for you…or they did until you got yourself pregnant. Why the hell haven't they tried to destroy you yet? They're obviously not pleased that you're pregnant. Are they planning to use you, make the humans complacent about having you around, then switch you out with another Sharon? But how would they accomplish that? It's not like you can leave the ship easily. Frak, you can't even leave the brig without a detail of top-notch guards.

"What the frak are they planning?" you mutter, hand curling into a fist to slam against the glass of your enclosure. The sound startles you and you look up to see that Karl has left. Little wonder. He may regret ever having gotten involved with you. Maybe… Maybe if he regrets it, regrets the baby, that'll allow you the opportunity to rid yourself of the unwanted responsibilities involved. Maybe you can find a way to talk Cottle into killing you when he's removing your child. Let the Cylons download your memories into the next clone. It's not like anyone in the fleet's going to ever trust another Sharon Valerii.

But maybe, just maybe… What if the Cylons somehow aren't controlling you? What if they want you dead even more than the humans do, but can't get to you? Or want you still alive for some reason? It's got to be the baby. They wanted more than for you to get a human -- Karl -- to trust you. More than getting you back onto the Galactica, into the fleet. More than killing the old man. They wanted you to get pregnant. It's the next step up from the farms, isn't it? You told Starbuck all about that on Caprica, after you all rescued her from one of those frakking hellholes. All about the failed attempts to interbreed some sort of human-Cylon hybrid.

A sudden surge of protectiveness overwhelms you and you slide down the wall to wrap your arms tightly around your stomach. What if they really are intending to use your baby? Could that be the reason they've kept you alive despite being a liability to them? Are you simply a vessel for their next great scheme to eradicate humanity? A means to an end? A justification for their war?

Anger rolls over you with the intensity of a tsunami and your grip on your stomach tightens momentarily. And then you're on your feet, banging on the glass, trying to get the guards' attention. Now more than ever before, you need to either get rid of this baby and stop their plans…or work out some sort of deal with Roslin and the old man to keep this baby safe. You don't matter. You're expendable, and you know it, no matter how much it may hurt. A toaster is a toaster, right? But this baby is different. They'll either kill it or use it. Neither sits well on your conscience.

Then, just as suddenly, you realize that by making whatever deal it is you'll make with Roslin and the old man, they'll do the same thing. Either they'll kill the baby or use it to their own ends.

You're still a pawn in this game, no matter what happens, or whose side you're protected by. The baby is all that matters to all of them, their pawn in the war. You mean nothing to them. And they should mean nothing to you. All that matters is that you protect your baby and keep it safe…period.

"No matter what it takes," you whisper to your baby, "you're not going to be their pawn…either of them."

And then the unbidden thought emerges in your mind.

Even if I have to kill you to do it.