[identity profile] kiki-miserychic.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] thearchive2
Title: Old Fashioned Morphine
Characters: Caprica and Leoben
Timeline: Spoilers for 4x16 - Deadlock
Title Music: "Old Fashioned Morphine" from Jolie Holland


Podfic: As a part of the hybrid nature of the challenge, I recorded a podfic. This is my first time, so it might not be up to standards. I think it's pretty good for my first time. Download or listen below.


The monotone beeps and clinks of the infirmary surrounded Caprica's bed. She watched the colors swirl on Anders' monitors, not understanding what the humans around her saw in the movement. Anders' chest rose and fell in rhythm with the noises, oddly soothing to Caprica. A dark mass appeared in Caprica's field of vision, blocking her view. Slowly turning onto her back, Caprica looked up and met the wide eyes of a Leoben staring down at her from above.

"You're more than this. You're meant for so much more." Leoben made a display of taking in Caprica's appearance. The man named Howard had brought to her all the thickest blankets he could find. Her bare shoulders were uncovered slightly, the paper-like gown removed and her clothes collected by a laundress for washing.

"Shut up." Caprica had been too weary to put much bite into it. She closed her eyes, the skin feeling stretched and too tight around them. Her cheeks burned from the saline in her tears that had fallen hours before.

"You're welcome back on the Base Star. There's nothing here for you. Ellen saw to that--," Leoben said, looking around in fascination at the sick bay, never having been there before. So many people living, breathing, and dying in one place. He probably wanted to start praying or something useless like that.

"I don't belong here." Caprica reopened her eyes, hoping to be alone.

"You've been away for so long; you don't remember where you belong." Leoben knelt next to her bed, an earnest look overtaking his face.

"I was happy here," face crumbling under the weight.

"I know you were, I know. How do you feel now?" Leoben's hand groped for Caprica's on the surface of the blankets. Fingertips collided and moved to cradle as Leoben listened.

"I want to tear my skin off with my fingernails, twist my arms off, and grind my bones to dust." Caprica didn't blink, the tears covering her eyes were teetering on the cusp of streaming down her face again.

"You have to feel this. Don't push it down and away. Pull it close and feel every moment in all the cells of your body." His face usually so serious and stern melted and opened even more next to her bed.

"I had everything and now it's leaking out of me." Her eyelids buckled, the tears breaking away and chasing each other over her face.

"The one true God has a plan." Leoben was so sure, his hands skimming the side of her face.

"No, He doesn't. Why would His plan include taking something from me?" Freely crying, Caprica remembered that the nurse, Ishay, would be back soon to change the blood soaked sheets.

"Your son wasn't taken from you. He was never yours. He wasn't meant to stay with you for any longer than he did." Leoben’s hands moved to hold her jaw more firmly.

"No, he was always mine. Always. We felt him kick, we watched him move. Why would God take him like this? He makes everyone leave. Cottle took him away; this is all that's left." Caprica whispered, fingers tangling in the sheets bunched up around her. "Please leave." She demanded, knowing that he would never understand. Maybe Athena could, but that Eight never looked Caprica in the eye or addressed her directly.

"Caprica?"

"Don't. Don't call me that." Barely more than a thought, much less a word or phrase.

"You can't stay here forever." Leoben warned, his hands trailing away from her face.

"Please--," drawn out like a cry or a prayer.
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The Roslin Presidential Archive (2nd Term)

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