The first time Skye threw up, she was off duty. It came hard and fast. There was no controlling it. For a moment, she was confused. She could only compare this to a massive hangover of which she'd had plenty. But she hadn’t drunk last night. In fact, she couldn’t remember imbibing anything in the past few weeks. She was lucky she could get away from the card table before Trip and his annoying perceptiveness asked the clichéd question.
The second time she threw up, she realized it wasn’t a fluke. She realized she had been in denial. She realized she hadn’t had sex since Ward. Six weeks ago. Had it only been that long? It seemed like decades since he had revealed his true nature.
Skye returned to the card table. Trip was grinning like he had already won.
“What’s up, girl? You pregnant?”
Skye knew how to not fall apart. That was the one good thing about the Ward situation. He taught her to keep her emotions in check. Or he was at least the first. She had never been very good at it. But with May’s influence, she had perfected it.
“Don’t you know I’m saving myself for you?” Skye teased as she eased herself back to the table.
Jemma was eying her closely. In all the chaos, she had forgotten she and Trip had been together once. It was kind of difficult to remember the fighter pilot and the doctor’s relationship when the guy she had honestly thought she had loved turned out to be an evolved robot killing machine. For now, Skye would just keep on the face she had mastered. There was nothing else she could do until she figured out how this was even possible.
She was in the cargo bay when she happened to double over at the exact same moment Commander Coulson walked by. “You sick, Quake?”
Coulson only called her by her call sign when they were in front of other people. They hadn't been alone since Ward absconded. Ward's call sign was too chilling to even be uttered by the commander. Skye was fine with just thinking of him in the detached last name sort of way.
Ever since Skye had transferred to this battlestar, she had formed some sort of kindred spirit with the commander. And in that moment, she couldn’t bring herself to lie.
“Stomach flu, sir.” Fitz was working on one of the vipers. “I can’t tell you how times I had to clean up after LT.”
“Well go get some rest, Lieutenant,” Coulson said. “Can’t do the sweeps without you.”
“Yes, sir,” Skye said to his retreating form. When he had finally disappeared she turned towards Fitz. He was casually fixing a panel on the bird, but he could never really pull of casual anyhow. “Stomach flu?”
“You’re vomited approximately twenty-four times in the past week,” Fitz said informatively.
“And it’s none of my business.” Fitz continued screwing on the panel.
“Why did you just help me?” Skye asked. Fitz had become this quiet presence, but he never lost his powers of observations.
Fitz paused for a moment, mulling over her question. He had been doing that more and more. “Basic math.”
“Does everyone know my private business?” Skye couldn’t help but be annoyed. It was easier to pretend her past with Ward had been just a dream. Some fabrication that she made him to make Cylon Ward seem human and the pain less. The truth was, she couldn't even think about the things they had done together without it tearing a hole inside her. Her memories of him didn't make it better. It made it worse.
“You’d have to be blind not to see the way Ward looked at you.”
“Then he turned out to be a robot hell-bent on our destruction,” Skye said. “He was a good liar.”
“He might have lied about who he was,” Fitz said, “but no one can fake that.” Fitz spoke with the wisdom of someone who had lived for a hundred years. Skye knew better. He was just good at perceiving people. And as strong as his love was for certain people, he never let it destroy him. Not completely. She wished she had half of his courage.
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“Sorry,” Fitz apologized.
Maybe that was her cue to leave. But she didn't. “Aren’t you afraid?”
Fitz finally turned his entire attention on her. “What should I be afraid of?”
“I could never be afraid of you,” Fitz said. “Look at me. After Ward detonated that bomb I never thought I’d work again. And here I am.”
“Then how can you of all people look at me the same?” Skye asked. Somehow, it was okay to talk to Fitz. He wasn't looking for chinks in her armor like everyone else. He wasn't waiting for her to detonate like some sort of emotional time bomb that Ward had set. He was truly her friend.
“Because you’re you,” Fitz answered. “And nothing could change that.”
“He did,” Skye said. “I didn’t even think this was possible.” Even if getting impregnated by a Cylon was possible, who was to say what would come out after nine months? That's what really scared her.
“Cylons have evolved,” Fitz shrugged. “It’s fascinating, really. You’re proof of their technology.”
Fitz was the only one who consistently called them Cylons. He respected their technology too much to do otherwise. Skye was too bitter to call them toasters now. Every Cylon she dreamed about now had Ward's face. His arrogant smirk. His efficient killing. They even kissed like him.
Fitz smiled abashedly. “Think of what it took to get them to look like us, think like us, feel like us.”
“Cylons don’t feel,” Skye said. “They’re machines.”
“Machines with organic material,” Fitz said. “Organic enough to reproduce with humans. Whose to say they can’t love?”
“I do.” Because she had to. Because there was no other alternative. If those machines could love, what did that make her? She was still some robot’s play thing. She still had been manipulated. Still had been used. “He just did this to me and left me to deal with the consequences. When he could have just killed me.”
Why didn't he kill her? That was the real question that kept her up at night.
“But it’s the fact that he didn’t,” Fitz protested. “You’re right. He could have killed you. Should have, even. So whey didn’t he?”
“I’m the incubator for his weird hybrid child,” Skye deadpanned.
“Do you think that was his plan all along?” Fitz asked.
“Why not?” Skye answered. “What else could he have wanted?”
Fitz looked at her expectantly, but she refused to answer the question the way he wanted her to. That was weakness. Ward taught her that but then again, so did May. May’s husband perished in the Cylon attack of their homeworld and she was still kicking ass and taking names. Maybe it was a front. Well Skye could have a front too.
“They’ll kill me,” Skye said. “When they find out.”
“No,” Skye said. “Our people."
“That’s not logical.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” Skye said. “You’ve seen Simmons since we realized Cylons looked human. She’s been on a warpath. Better to cut off the head of the monster.”
“You’re not the monster,” Fitz said. “And Jemma wouldn’t do that.” He didn’t sound so sure anymore. Then again, Fitz wasn’t quite the same since the explosion anyway. “I think there’s something more pressing anyway.”
“If you’re hypothesis is right,” Fitz said, “and Ward did plan this, then he knows about you already."
"And?" Skye asked.
"And…" Fitz said, "he’ll be coming back for you.”
It wasn’t something Skye had thought of. It wasn’t something she wanted to think of.
“What happens then?” Skye asked softly.
“Then… We’ll protect you.” Fitz said it like it was the only choice. The only thing anyone would dare think of.She appreciated him for that. She gripped him tightly, the first real physical contact she had in six weeks. He returned her embrace comfortingly.
“And until then?” she whispered.
“Until then,” Fitz said, “you have a decision to make.”