Look at me and tell me who I am, why I am, what I am...

((Locked to Baltar and to all Cylons))

I would want to know the truth.

I couldn't believe that I was a Cylon. I know my mind, the part of me that was "Sharon", which refused to listen to the part of me that was "Eight", kept trying to help me out. Small messages, like the writing on my mirror, or the way that I found water when the Fleet needed it even though it took a couple of tries… that part of my mind was stronger. Not by much, but it kept me going for awhile. Long enough for me to fool myself into thinking that I really was Sharon.

That the apartment on Caprica was mine. That the pictures of my family were real. That my life wasn't a lie.

( I was used as a tool and left behind in the dust )

If I had known from the beginning what I was, without the implanted memories of "Sharon" stuck in me, then at least I would know my place in the galaxy. I would have been a Cylon, pure and true, instead of fighting my programming. I wouldn't have bothered with humans, or Chief, or Adama… I wouldn't have hurt people accidentally.

"Sharon" might not have existed, but then again, that would mean the plan to conceive wouldn't have worked, either. There would be no Helo and Hera living happily on Galactica, there would be no sadness over my "death" as I told Chief how much I loved him, there would just be me.

Whatever I am.

Muse : Sharon "Boomer" Valerii
Fandom : Misc. TV/"Battlestar Galactica"
Word Count : 403