Fandom: Terra Nova
Genre: Angst. Sorta Hurt/Comfort. Not really romance.
Pairing: Luckye/Lucket aka Lucas Taylor/Skye Tate.
Warnings: Character Death, Thoughts of Suicide. Dark Love.
Disclaimer: I may not own this show, but I'm probably just as pissed as 20th Century and Spielberg.
Summary: She doesn't flinch when she feels the barrel of a gun pressed between her shoulder blades. Doesn't move, doesn't care. It feels like fate and she's done fighting. Dark Oneshot.
A/N: Not related to my other Lucket stories. Title shamelessly ripped from Sentenced's "Killing me, Killing You". Just as a side note, totally a Lucket song. Just sayin'.
Its been a month since her mother died. A month since what she fought for for three years finally succumbed to the inevitable. None of her pleas, her bargains had worked. She'd sold her soul and ended up with nothing in return. She'd betrayed and lied and deceived to keep one small thing. The last of her family. Ignored the fact that in the loss of her parents, she had gathered a small army of people who had wanted nothing but to take care of her. Give her a new family. But what she had had could never have been replaced and it hurts her that they thought they could. She knows its not their fault, that they were doing their best to help. But all their attempts to get closer shattered her more because she knows she had sold them out to save some one they thought was dead. Who is now.
Its been a month and Skye cannot take it anymore. Trapped behind the walls of the Colony with all the people watching her. They know what she has done and they understand and forgive if not necessarily forget. And now the reason for everything is gone and they stare with pitying eyes at the girl who is alone. A traitor and their savior. They've heard the stories.
The ones that had lost people to her mistakes feel some sort of justice has been delivered when Deb took her last rattling breath. A little bit of the world coming out right for the pain they had suffered at her small graceful hands.
She hates them all equally. The ones that hate and the ones that pity. None of them could ever understand what has happened to her, what she's twisted herself into to save the people she cares for. She had betrayed the Colony, Taylor, even her father's memory to save her mother. Then betrayed her mother, Lucas as well, to save the Colony. To save Terra Nova and hope for a thousand people. She'd been rewarded with her mother's life but twenty six more had died. And then she'd danced around a man dangerous to her. Not just physically, but emotionally. To blind him to the trap she had in wait she had to open herself to her innermost darkest desires. A door once opened that could not be closed. She'd promised herself, her devotion, meant every word even while she began to sink the knife of betrayal in his chest. She led him into the trap his father had devised and shot him to save the Commander. Saved Taylor to maybe repay him for the damage she had done even while she killed another part of herself again. A spark of hope remained that she hadn't done that as well as she thought she had, but it was dampened by the knowledge she would never be forgiven. Now the last of what she had was gone. The people that had gathered around her three years ago had drifted away. She was alone.
So Skye doesn't worry when she can't take it any more. When the claustrophobia of all she's done reflected in every condemning gaze becomes too much. There is a place to escape from it all. One she had avoided for too long for fear of being cast out. Being taken away from the small things she has fought to have. It doesn't matter anymore because she has nothing.
Its easy to slip away without anyone noticing. No ones looking for her. Easy to get OTG through the wrecked walls and slim guard detail. The Phoenix Group is out there somewhere, but they haven't heard anything and man power is needed elsewhere. If she's caught sneaking away she knows what it will look like. They'll throw her in the brig or banish her. She doesn't care. She already feels like they've done both.
The day is slightly overcast, but it is still hot. Hotter than 2149 baking within its own pollution. But the air is clean with a scent of rain, free of acidic corrosion that she remembers from her childhood. Tall grasses hindering her movements, leaving an easy path to find. No dead dust rises with her steps, clogging her lungs. Everything is alive here, but she is dead inside, a contradiction to the life she knew in the future. There she had had her family with no chances of a simple disease taking them away, nor a man gone half crazy with grief trying to destroy what she loved. There the world dying had been their only danger and people gone crazy with fear of it. Her fate hadn't been hers to make in that dying world. It was easier not having to make choices. She always made the wrong ones.
The falls are a thunder of sound that block out her thoughts, the angry worlds hurled at her. The rumble, the power, shakes everything loose from her chest, leaving her hollow. No grief, no fear, no guilt. Its not peace, but its as close as some one like her will ever get.
She settles at the top, on the boulder she has always jumped from. Looks down the long fall, the water crashing down, remembering all the times she'd leaped over the edge. They seem like distant memories, those brief flashes of peace and life. Everything disappearing in the momentous rush, the exhilarating plummet. The first time wondering if she'd get hurt or possibly die. She'd been so afraid of both back then. Back when she'd retained a form of innocence. Life had been hard and cruel, but its nothing compared to the time she finds herself stuck in. Nothing then compared to the present.
She doesn't flinch when she feels the barrel of a gun pressed between her shoulder blades. Doesn't move, doesn't care. It feels like fate and she's done fighting. Maybe in the sound of the gun going off there will be peace.
"I should kill you for what you've done."
She is not surprised it is Lucas' voice she hears, calm and deadly. Welcomes it in some sick way that he hates her just as much as she hates herself. "Go ahead." Her voice is devoid of anything because she is empty.
She waits for the sound of the gunshot, the jump of the barrel against her skin as the bullet tears through flesh and muscle and bone and vital organs. Waits until she knows its not going to happen. She looks over her shoulder then, finds him standing behind her, close, gun still pressed to her. He's wild, dirty and unkempt. But his eyes are calm, sane. Saner than she has ever seen them.
He cocks his head at her, searching her face. "You're not the same." It is a statement, a realization that he feels conflicted about.
Her smile is bitter as she turns away, faces back to the falls. She's sitting with her arms wrapped around her legs, huddled in a ball of numb pain. She imagines soaring over the edge, arms spread wide, floating to her death.
The gun falls away and he folds himself in front of her, blocking her view. His callused fingertips catching her chin, the ghostly remains of her heart, and make her face him. "Have you been banished?" There is hope, there is fear, there is confusion for both emotions he doesn't understand in his question.
She closes her eyes against him. The sight of him which stirs life in her chest that she doesn't want to feel. Because with life there is pain and she can't take anymore. "No." It is the truth and a lie all the same. No verdict has been issued, no command carried her out to thrust her out the gates, but she is just as alone, but worse.
His fingers brush across her forehead, catching hair in their wake and placing it behind her ear. Fire trails in the path of his touch, spreading warmth through her cold system. He is so alive, so warm, vibrant and she is dead, cold, limp in her defeat. "Then why?"
She opens her eyes slowly at his question, knows what he's asking even though he doesn't say it. "My mother is dead." Its not an answer, but it is. It explains everything he hadn't really asked.
He glances away from her, his hand falling with his eyes. "I'm sorry."
His apology, his sincerity shocks her, troubles her. It makes little sense in her world. He is her enemy. She shot him, betrayed him. Destroyed everything for him just as he had done the same with her. She has no response for him, no understanding in this situation she hadn't expected to find herself in.
"I tried to save her." His voice soft, replying to the questions she hadn't asked.
Something clears within her. Barely formed suspicions, questions of hows and whys. "You made the medicine." It would stand to logic, but she had never taken the time to consider it. But he'd been sent a group of mercenaries not doctors. He the only one qualified to come up with something so complicated, so delicate.
His nod was small, imperceptible, arousing another question within her.
"Curran wasn't the one, was he?" Something has crept into her voice. The tone gaining a quality that implies more than just an inflection of speech.
There is a half smile on his face as he catches her gaze once more. A small amount of pride that she has figured that out when no one else would have even bothered thinking about it. A smaller dose of embarrassment that he had been caught. "Yes."
It is her turn to look away. Away from the gentle expression on his rough features. Away from the feelings he is stirring in her beleaguered soul. She was comfortable in her world of numb. It was easier there and he is stripping it away from her. Refusing to kill her, offering sympathy, understanding in her loss. Admitting to trying to save a woman when no one else had but her. Tears burn at her dry eyes. She had not cried when her mother died nor when they laid her in the ground for the final time. She had lost her ability to grieve for her mother the moment she had made the choice to leave her behind. But now everything she had refused to feel is clawing within, demanding to be let loose. The pain and the regret and the guilt. Threatening to tear her apart, consume her and never let go.
With a sob she tears herself up and away. To the edge of the falls and their promise of oblivion if she lets go. She hugs herself as the mists rise and wrap around her, chilling her to the bone. All it would take is one small step in the wrong direction. Missing the water and shattering on the rocks below. No more pain, no more despair. But it would be breaking a final promise to her mother. To hold on and not let go and its the only thing keeping her at the top of the falls.
Until Lucas' arms wrap around her, bands of hot iron bringing her to his chest, a furnace of warmth. Of life and utter despair because no future lies within him. Only agony because what he offers can never be.
"Kill me," she pleads. She cannot take it for herself, but surely she can be forgiven if some one does it for her?
Tears fall like rain from her eyes as he condemns her to eternal hell. She is half alive in this moment, part numb and part decaying under what she can't face. It will kill her slowly, painfully, if she turns and walks away now. If she goes home and tries to live like she has been. If she cannot have numbness than she wants fire, to burn everything away.
She turns in his arms, feeling his hands fall away and stares up into the vibrant green of his eyes. Sees her tormented soul reflected in the forest depths and knows she's made a choice she can't turn back from. She's chosen how her life will go from this moment on. "Then make me feel alive."
Acceptance, satisfaction. They gleam in his eyes as he cups her face because he knows that she has finally given into him. All the way this time and there is nothing and no reason for her to pull away from him. She doesn't, rising to his kiss, letting the fire sing through her system, igniting everything to flames. Her guilt and her despair and her agony combust in his kiss, his mouth taking hers.
They stumble from the rocks, the water. Fall together in the high grasses on the bank, the thick stalks catching them. Skye wonders how they do not catch alight. She is consumed in liquid heat, burning through her system and melting her resistance. All there is, is Lucas. Everywhere. Inside and out even while they're still clothed. His rough dirty shirt scraping against her palms. Her skin gone soft in the months of caring for her mother, abandoning everything else. She wishes for the calluses, a physical protection over her body when there's nothing else. Wishes they'd cover her entirely and repel all the hurts away. But it is another prayer unanswered in her hell. She is nothing but soft skin, exposed to every barb. Exposed to Lucas' claiming touch.
He is impatient and wild, igniting her to the same. Dragging her pain out of her and channeling it into passion for him. What has been nothing but ice, cold dead fingers strangling the life out of her, has become lava, burning away the leprosy that has consumed her. Every nerve ending ablaze at his command.
Their clothes melt away, puff into ash and float away. The plantlife scratching at her skin, scraping harder than his half beard across her. His hands holding her hips, nails digging as her back arches from the ground. His mouth hungry, her body, her soul, her heart his sustenance. She is helpless to deny as he feasts upon her, all hot mouth and burning hands. There are trails of red fire on her body as she writhes and gasps in the inferno. Wondering how she'll survive when he leaves. Leaves her to her world of ice and death amidst the heated jungle paradise.
When he enters her, burning madness, she rolls them. Hand braced on his chest, the two bullet holes she'd marked him with bracketing her palm. The sun searing her back, marking her if only briefly. She's branded inside and out by the man she is riding hard and fast on wings of flames. Faster towards utter destruction; supernova. Faster towards absolute zero when its over. When the fires have died and she is left alone again. Forever.
He does not linger when it is over. When she is spent, empty. The fires of him having consumed all the fuel she has left to offer. There is nothing left but the wasteland of his aftermath. Burnt to ash and cooling. The ice age retaking its hold after her brief warming.
She watches him go with dead eyes. Gather his clothing to his body and melt into the jungle. No "goodbye" or "until the next time". There is nothing because she is that.
A/N: I didn't really plan this fic. I was sorta just in a mood and sat down to write and this is what came out. I thought about redoing it, but like I said, it wasn't something I meant to do and I have no interest really in revisiting this. My other Lucket stories are eating my brain anyway. :] So, sorry if its a little disjointed and there are mistakes.