235 - Show us where you live.

[number_eight]

I don't know.

Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful that I was let out of hack as soon as I was, considering the charges that Admiral Adama was claiming he would throw at me for shooting that Six. I'm more than grateful that I was put back in charge of the Raptors, and it felt almost like home again standing next to Starbuck Kara like that in the pilot ready room, almost like we were back to being friends again after that entire incident on the Demetrius. I'm extremely grateful that my plans were considered, listened to, and even followed in the Situation Room when the rescue plan was being put into place.

You see, after getting out of hack, I would have normally talked about how Galactica was home, with the "A"-shaped hallways and blue-tinged lights. Or maybe I would have talked about the personal quarters that I share with my husband and my daughter, which are fairly large all things considered.

But right now, I don't know.

I don't know where I live, because we found Earth. We did it. We frakking found Earth, and I guess we found it just a little bit too late. All these years of searching, hoping… running from the Cylons, fighting off the Cylons. The time when I was on Kobol and I lead everyone to the Tomb of Athena as part of the human scriptures – as part of Pythia, and for what? For this? For the Temple of Aurora on Earth, in ruins from some sort of nuclear blast or war that happened hundreds of years ago?

For all of our hopes – both human and Cylon – to be destroyed in one moment as we all stood and stared at the irradiated soil, crumbled buildings, dark skies, and lifeless planet? Is this my new home? Is this where I'm going to have to raise my daughter with Helo?

I don't know. God, I wish I knew, but I don't.

I think we're all homeless now.



Muse: Sharon "Athena" Agathon
Fandom: Misc. TV/"Battlestar Galactica"
Word Count: 333

Comments

[special-destiny.livejournal.com]

Everything that happened on the Demetrius ... it doesn't matter anymore. Not that it ever really did. What matters now is figuring out what the frak we do next.

[number-eight.livejournal.com]

I have no idea what to do next.

And... thanks, Kara. Still, I'm sorry for what happened. I didn't mean for it to go down like that, honestly. I thought it was going to be peaceful and... anyway. Yeah.

[special-destiny.livejournal.com]

I don't think any of us have expected much of what's happened in the past months. Things have been beyond frakked up - even more than usual - and ... I played my part in that.

It's over. It doesn't matter anymore.