AN: this story woudl drive me insane if it didn't write it down. It's basically a retelling of every moment Skye and Lucas met on the show - and one or two i made up - told from his pov (mostly). Getting in his head was not the most easy thing to do, but it was fun. I hope I've dont the character justice and I hope you like my very first Terra Nova fic! :)

1.

He had been watching her for a while. Watching her go back and forth between two camps: the spy.

Loved and wanted on one side, distrusted and mistreated by the other.

Cut off from both.

She was a good spy, probably because she was so likable, friendly, so very pretty. Everyone trusted her open manner, mild temper, helpfulness, friendliness. Nobody noticed her watchful eyes, her careful stance, always on alert, always taking note of everything. They all loved her and didn't care to look deeper.

How could you distrust a thirteen year old after all. And such a lovely one as her none the less.

He had come to realize she was the spy very accidentally. In the beginning, he had been interested in her for other reasons, more personal reasons. News had come to him that his father had found a stand-in for him, a substitute. Despite himself, he had been curious. He had watched on with disdain, wanting to see if she was loved by the great commander, if his dear father gave her what he had always refused to give to his own son.

If Nathaniel Taylor had any amount of affection for that little girl, then she would become one more target that would need to be destroyed slowly, just so that his father could hear her scream.

So he had kept his ears open for her.

Which was why, one casual day and completely by accident, he had caught her out in the wild, out of paradise's gates.

He had been intrigued at first. His father had his subjects spooked good and proper on the dangers and of the jungle: nobody dared go out by themselves, let alone a child of thirteen. Yet there she was…

Maybe there was more to this little girl than a pretty face and a sweet smile.

He had flowed her in the shadows like a predator, keeping watch completely invisible. Taken note of her stealth, her ability to walk through the forest as if she didn't touch the ground she treaded upon. At first glance she seemed awkwardly scrawny, legs and arms uncoordinated. But she was determined, focused. Her movements were fast, precise – a testament to the fact that she had spent a great deal of her time walking those paths, climbing those hills.

That however didn't keep her from slipping, from almost falling. She fumbled because of her nerves: her hands shook, her eyes were wide and fearful, pained; her breath uneven in a way that had nothing to do with exertion. She was focused and driven, but every once in a while she lost herself to her own thoughts.

She was going to get herself killed if she kept that up.

The more she walked, the farther away she got from Terra Nova, the more he became convinced that his was not a casual escapade. He had known from her very first steps that her direction was not accidental, that she had a clear objective in mind. An objective that she needed to keep secret – which was the only reason a child like her would venture all alone in a jungle where even the smallest bite from the wrong insect could kill you.

That was the moment he understood she was the spy.

Inwardly, he couldn't help the burst of sadistic pleasure: Nathaniel Taylor seemed to be cursed with children bent to destroy him and what he stood for. And the beauty of this setting was that Lucas was sure his father would never in a million years suspect that little girl to be the one betraying him. It was just too perfect, too well set up, as if the universe had connived this just to make Lucas laugh.

In that moment, realizing that this child was a traitor to his father and was working against him made Lucas feel, for the first time, a small amount of comradeship toward this girl.

They had more in common than he had first thought.

For a moment Lucas entertained the thought of blowing her cover, just to watch his father heart break. But then he thought better of it. Now that Lucas knew the betrayal was inevitable, he wanted his father to learn to love this girl. He wanted her to win his hear over: with that face and that smile, Lucas doubted it would be difficult.

Then he would expose her, and in the process break his father's heart.

So he held off.

And time passed.

He kept watching her from afar, gathering bits and pieces of info whenever he could without being obvious about it. Slowly she won his respect: she had been a spy for a year, not generating even the smallest of suspicions. She was very well liked in all the colony, knew everyone - and everyone's habits, routines. She was friends with the soldiers, the Shannons, had access to the command center as if she lived there, could come and go as she liked in every single corner of his father kingdom.

His father's substitute child, the little traitor.

The thought amused Lucas whenever it crossed his mind. This couldn't have worked better if he'd planned it himself.

And predictably, his father learned to care for her. The old man was as pathetic as Lucas had thought him.

Lucas would have loved breaking the little girl's cover then, exposing her, and ruining what was left of Nathaniel Taylor's stand-in family.

But one thing stopped his hand: her reasons.

Why was she a spy? What was the force that drove her actions?

Lucas never acted without having the full picture and when it came to her, the full picture escaped him. He could easily learn this info by asking Mira, but - living in the jungle for five years on his own had made him a very self sufficient man and increased his paranoia even more: He was too proud to ask someone to do something he could easily do himself. He knew that he was very well capable of learning more of her if he so wished without the help of Mira and her own.

But there was a problem.

That little girl was apparently one of the best kept secrets in the Sixer camp. Only a very secretive handful knew that she came and went and nobody but Mira's personal command knew her reasons for doing so. But it didn't really take much to know that there was something amiss with his father's substitute child.

She was not playing this game of betrayal out of her own desire, or revenge. Her driving force was not from within, it came from outside. She did not enjoy her role, she hated being in the camp and she most certainly felt guilt over her actions – because as his father loved her, so did she have a strong affection for the old man. Lucas could tell from the very look of her that, had she had a choice, she would have never betrayed Taylor.

But even though it had been difficult to learn about her without resorting to Mira's sources, following her once he caught sight of her had been all too easily done.

He'd been shut up in his hut in the camp - as he rarely was, because he rarely stayed within the perimeter of the camp - before he headed off again when she had come along, digging in her purse for something, so out of it that she had not noticed him at all.

But he had seen her.

And followed her without a second thought, knowing this was his chance of finding out her secret.

Nobody dared stop him, he did as he pleased here.

She had changed during that year. Gotten taller, hair longer. Her face was less round, less childish. Her eyes were the color of a clearest sky and serious just like those of a predator. She seemed hard and unreadable as she passed in front of the Sixer soldiers, as she stood in front of Mira and gave her the Intel, leaving Mira's presence as soon as she had the chance, as if not wanting to be in the woman's company any more than strictly necessary.

Everything he saw convinced him more and more that this girl was acting under some sort of duress.

It took him only a few second to find out what it was: she entered a small hut and almost ran to the bed – which was not empty, but occupied by a sickly woman whose sallow face brightened when she took notice of her visitor.

"Hey mom!"

The emotion that almost overflowed in that one word, said with so much love - so much pain - was the first thing that made him feel something other than blinding rage or hatred in almost three years. His heart knew that tone, that pleading note that threatened to choke you like a fist around your throat. His soul recognized that word and instantly his mind reached its conclusion.

He had been wrong: the propelling force behind her actions was not outside her at all: she acted out of love - for her mother.

To save her mother's life.

And in that moment, upon understanding that, his plan shifted, changed without him consciously choosing to have it so. It was the natural inclination and he didn't fight it.

Because Lucas knew in that moment, he would have done the same for his own mother. He was, in fact, doing the same. The only reason he pursued his father destruction so fiercely, with such obsession, was because he had loved – he still loved - his mother with the same fierceness that he hated his father. His hate sprung from his love, so did his focus, his anger, his obsession. Every single action he had ever taken had been the reflection of those emotions. Time had mingled them, and now his hatred burned to bright, so without sense or reason that it made him almost maniacal, a creature of instinct and single mindedness, his obsession almost painful.

Hatred had taught him how to survive when all else had failed. It had taught him how to eat, how to breathe. There had been a point, in the dark and alone, when he had thought he would die with so much hatred in his veins.

But now, looking at that fourteen year old girl at her mother's bedside, he felt something in him flutter it wings and rise slowly, as if from deep sleep. Something that had been pushed into the corners of his mind by every other emotions that was so much more violent, but which now for the first time found a reason to emerge:

Empathy.

As strange as it sounded, that girl reminded him of himself more than his own image in a mirror.

Looking at her then, Lucas felt the bond with her deepen, strengthen. That was the first time that he thought of her as his adoptive little sister, when he realized just how much that truly had in common.

He understood her fully. The respect he had for he reasons and actions was one that he had never really given anyone.

He would not expose her. Let his father deal with his traitors himself. No doubt the old man wouldn't find her out until it was too late; he was blind to his own faults and his pride would never let him see what was right under his nose.

That, Lucas understood, was going to make his little sister's job a lot easier… and he suspected she knew that too.

TBC