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Happy Birthday [livejournal.com profile] sabaceanbabe! I may never spell Sebacean correctly, but it's worth it. :)

Helo’s leg never really heals completely. He and Sharon talk about it, and talk to Cottle, and decide that his leg is fine the way it is. He will limp, but the medicine will be used later in the summer when one of the Tauron scouts gets caught in a rockslide, so he considers it a win.

He becomes the main authority on the weather. The pains in his leg vary almost daily, and the more it hurts, the worse the weather will be. They aren’t used to think about air like that. For a long time, it was the concern of the knuckledraggers, controlled by a machine that scrubbed the air stale. Here the air is clean and the mountains are high and the rain comes pouring down when his muscles spasm.

The second summer, he saves the entire lentil crop from a hailstorm. After that the farmers come to see him every evening just to watch him walk up and down the path that leads to the garden. He doesn’t really think about it until Hera brings a friend home from school one day, and the girl won’t look him in the eye. They aren’t afraid of him, he understands that, but they are in desperate need of a god.

In the winter, all three of them huddle in the same bed for warmth. Sharon whispers stories to Hera, tales of Colonial History and Cylon development, and Helo wonders how long it will be until everyone forgets. Mostly he doesn’t mind. The animals and plants here make for better stories anyway.

When Spring comes, and he finally has his wife to himself again, they wait until Hera falls asleep and then talk about if they should try again. Sharon’s pregnancy was difficult enough on board Galactica, and Helo is more that a little afraid. Cottle tells them he’s been saving certain medications for Cylon pregnancies, and that they can try twice.

When the boy is born, red and squalling, Helo cannot stop smiling. Hera has been fascinated by the entire process, and she stares at her brother now, waiting for him to do something, anything, that will prove he was worth waiting so long for. They call him Shaan. Two years later, his brother is called Laur and even the dead are forgiven. Their father throws them up into the air, and it is as close as they will ever get to flying.

They make everything, now. Spindle whorls and arrow points and bricks for their houses. Helo finds he is good at most of it, but Hera laughs when he tries to spin thread and then takes it away to do it herself. Shaan builds houses across the valley as the tents wear through. Laur spends most of his time in the woods looking for plants to supplement what they grow. Sharon scours the plains for animals, and teaches herself how to cure the skins while her son seasons the meat.

He knows that this new world is harsh and that death is more accessible here than it was making blind jumps in a Raptor, but he doesn’t care. In the firelight, Helo looks at his family and loves them.

That got a little less fluffy as I was writing it, but whatever. It ends well. :)
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