We used to wait. (Chapter 17/?)
title: We used to wait. (Chapter 17/?)
author:
apodixis
spoilers: Through all seasons, though this takes place in an AU starting at the very end of season 2.
pairings: kara/lee, kara/sam
overall fic rating: R/NC-17
word count: 5,969
notes: See http://apodixis.livejournal.com/685.html for more information.
summary: If God isn't leading the fleet to Earth, can they ever find it?
The return trip to Galactica was done in a haze. Later, Lee wouldn’t even remember the seconds he took to land, his mind completely elsewhere from his physical body. When the Viper he had commandeered was towed off the lift and into the hangar, he couldn’t find the energy to move from where he sat. So long as he stayed absolutely still, part of him was convinced this was all a nightmare. He’d wake up soon and Kara would be next to him, nudging him awake and telling him it was time for them to return to their bunks from the billet she still held in her name. She would kiss him and they would linger there for a few more minutes, groggy and content. Maybe she would even convince him for one last go and it would be rushed and quick, the two of them knowing time wasn’t on their side. If he just closed his eyes in that cockpit, none of it was real.
The mood on the deck was the worst it had ever been, even more somber than the day of Flattop’s one thousandth landing when he and a number of other pilots had gone to an early grave due to simple equipment malfunction. Though the people in CIC were the only ones to hear Kara’s death firsthand, the news had spread faster than an incoming message of condition one. Starbuck wasn’t just any pilot in the fleet. She had been the top gun, the instructor to every new nugget since the Fall, the CAG to all the current pilots, and even Commander to the half of the Colonial Fleet that was stationed on Pegasus under her watch. She had been all those things and a million more, from friend to a complete bastard, from a triad ace to the best person to drink with in the entire fleet. She had been a wife to one, a lover to another. There wasn’t a single person who didn’t feel the physical ache of her death. Even the colonists would soon feel the pain of having lost the military icon that had been known for her bravery and saved their lives a hundred times over.
There was a veil of silence in the hangar, with only mechanical sounds being generated. No one had the heart to say a word and no one especially had the guts to pull the ladder over to where Apollo sat entombed in the ship. Along with word of her death had come the rumors of just what had been exchanged between Starbuck and Apollo in her final minutes. They were friends and so much, much more. A number of times, there had been gambling pools on them, both surrounding them either frakking or fighting. Had the news of their relationship come out at any other moment, there would have been teasing and then money exchanging hands with the winners of the bet. Now, though, no one could even think of such a thing. Even without the romantic relationship between Lee and Kara out in the open, everyone knew how close they had been as friends. Her loss alone as a friend would have been enough to cripple Apollo, but for him to lose her as a lover, a girlfriend, whatever they were, was even more unimaginable. There was a silent understanding among everyone in that room, between those that knew him well and those that didn’t at all.
Should the cylons have jumped into the nearby space at that moment, there would have been no question that the whole of humanity would have fallen to them. Every function on the ship ceased altogether in a communal moment of prayer for the former Commander’s soul.
Adama, despite being plagued by his own grief, left Tigh in command of Galactica to make his way down to where he knew his son would soon be. The sorrow he felt possessed him for the loss of not only his daughter, but someone he had considered an equal. Tigh was his XO and lifelong friend, but Kara had been a Commander, one heartbeat away from his own position. When Bill had appointed her to that position long ago, he had no questions about who would have been the best person to lead the fleet to Earth and safety. Kara Thrace would take care of them all. She would have died doing it. Now, she actually had.
Nearly every head turned to the latest sound in the room, the shuffling of well worn shoes on the walkway composed of metal grating. Adama’s moves were slow and determined and though he had always been a bastion of strength for every single person that still remained alive, it was apparent that the latest loss of life rocked him to the very core. There were no tears, at least not anymore since he had wiped them away on his walk over, but no one could be so daft as to say his face was anywhere near peace. Laura appeared behind him, having still been on the ship after their dinner in his quarters, and she followed him down the stairs, though made no move to interfere. She would be there for him when he needed her. This moment, right now, was not hers to have.
Noticing the Admiral’s direction and intent, a quiet Chief walked with him, dragging the closest ladder with him towards the Mark II that sat powered down and lifeless. Without even a word, Galen understood the only place Adama could have been headed. He was thankful for the older man’s sudden appearance because although he had dealt with a lot of death both on this deck and off of it, the Chief had absolutely no idea how to start fixing this one. Had anyone else died and Lee was in pain over it, Galen would have first and foremost called for Starbuck. Likewise, had Starbuck been suffering some kind of breakdown, Lee would have been the one sought out to come begin to fix her. Despite how much Starbuck and Apollo fought, they were there for each other when the other truly, really needed it. They were a pair.
Galen held the stairway in place for the Admiral as he first climbed it, then backed away to give them what little privacy was available. Silently, Tyrol’s arms rose and expanded outward as he walked in a manner of rudimentary crowd control and everyone else understood. The orange jumpsuit wearing crew and all the others moved far enough away and pretended to amuse themselves with other things, while Galen returned to the arms of his tear stricken wife. The space between everyone and the Viper was more artificial than anything. They would still be able to hear anything said louder than a whisper and see the actions of the father and son, but it was the thought that counted.
The Admiral opened the cockpit, an action he hadn’t done on his own in years upon years. There had once been a time when a ship like that had been his own and he had known all the parts. He could still name them all, could probably still fix most of the problems in fact, especially on the older models. Lee didn’t move or respond to the sliding back of the glass and metal frame and for a second, Bill wondered if his son had died out there too. There was nothing, not even the telltale sign of him breathing in the loose fitting flight suit. “Lee,” Bill said.
At only a foot or so away from Adama, Apollo kept his eyes closed. The squeeze of his helmet helped dull out what was already silent around him. He could barely hear a quiet call of his name and he tried to imagine it higher pitched than it was. Desperately, Lee wanted it to be Kara’s voice coaxing him awake. Please, Gods, please, he told himself. Let it be a dream. The word repeated and he couldn’t hide from it anymore, knowing it to be the sound of his father. Despite the more rational parts of him telling himself to climb up and out of the bird, he couldn’t find the will or the energy to move.
Recognizing that his son wasn’t going to be able to help himself, Bill reached in and unlocked his helmet from around his neck. He pulled on it gently, not wanting to hurt Lee, until it gave way and released. He barely set it aside and it luckily stayed precariously balanced on one of the less steep portions of the wing. The metal collar was removed next and this time he didn’t care what happened to it, letting it fall to the floor with a clatter. He could see Lee’s eyes were gripped tightly shut and it reassured him to see the use of muscle there, which meant he was at least conscious. “Lee.”
His father called again and this time he responded, shaking his head faintly back and forth. It was all he could do as he replayed the last hour or so in his head. He should have stopped her from getting in that Viper. He should have done anything, even if it meant she would have hated him for the rest of their lives. There were a million ways he could have prevented her, from taking a wrench to her Viper’s console or undercarriage to sealing her up in some storage locker and overriding the code until she came to something of her senses. Any idea, however ridiculous, was considered as he sat there.
Lee felt his father’s hand on his shoulder and it jarred him from that fog he had been operating under. His gloved hands rose to his face, backs of his fists pressing into his forehead and his eyes, trying to mute the world further. It was no use. Everything hit him all at once as his chest shuddered with the consuming grief his brain couldn’t even begin to comprehend. There weren’t tears yet, but they were coming. “Tell me she’s not dead, Dad.” Lee breathed out.
He would have given anything, even his own life, to be able to bring Kara back and be able to tell his son that one piece of comfort. “You need to get out of there, Lee.” He opted for the art of misdirection instead, hoping giving him something small to focus on would help him along. “Come on.” Bill’s voice was gentle, and from the cockpit, Lee wasn’t sure if he had ever heard him that soft.
Apollo summoned up strength and courage, putting his hands on the side of the ship to hoist himself up. Adama climbed down the ladder to let Lee descend, but kept close should the boy stumble and lose his footing. Lee made it down just fine on his own, deceptively fine, and though his eyes were open, he made no effort to look his father or anyone in the eye. Lee’s hand remained on the railing of the stairway with his feet on the deck and Bill could see that it was his son’s lifeline right now. Something so simple was the only thing holding him together. He slipped his arm around Lee’s waist to offer him another form of support so he could keep himself from falling apart for another moment.
Lee allowed him to help, but the second his hand released from that railing, everything crumbled anyway. He sank to his knees like he was weighed down by a ton of bricks, palms on the cool flooring as everything poured out of him. Guilt, grief, sorrow. He hated himself for a thousand reasons more than he usually did and he was completely overtaken by it. Tears flowed down his cheeks, sobs nearly making him gag. Lee was always a private person, especially with his emotions, but there was nothing he could do to stop himself now despite the people that still crowded the deck. They tried their best not to stare, but all took glances at the scene from the corners of their eyes, most of them shocked and deeply disturbed by seeing the Admiral’s son fallen so far.
He coughed and felt vomit in the back of his mouth as he continued to surrender to his tears. Lee shook his head, trying to force away everything from him, but it had no effect. Amongst his cries, he barely choked out his words. “I should’ve followed her in.” He repeated his mantra, wishing it to be true the more he said it. “I should’ve followed her in.”
Adama’s own eyes were wet with tears as he watched his son like he’d never seen him before. He had lost his mother and managed to cope relatively fine. He had lost Zak and been torn apart by it, but this volatile reaction was something he had never imagined. Perhaps it was the culmination of every ounce of pain Lee had ever felt but kept inside, finally manifesting when he was pushed over the edge by the death of the woman he… Adama didn’t even know how to describe what Kara was to him. He said he loved her over the wireless and she had confessed it as well. Even he suspected something between the two of them and had briefly discussed it with Roslin once or twice before. But love? He had never truly expected it went that far deep for them and the knowledge of it only made his body ache more for the loss his son felt. “We should go, Lee.” He leaned down to help his son up.
“I can’t go. I can’t. I should’ve died out there with her.” Lee was speaking to no one in particular now, just to himself. He looked up to his father suddenly, his eyes bloodshot. “Let me go back out there. Please.” And perhaps what hurt Bill most that his son either consciously or unconsciously echoed one of Kara’s last sentences. “I have to go.”
“You can’t!” Adama was suddenly stern, a stark contrast to how soothing he had been before. He didn’t mean anything by his tone, but rather hoped it would do something to shake Lee out of the loop he seemed to be stuck in. It had some effect, at least Lee stopped talking, but he nearly collapsed down again onto the metal plating as his body gave way to exhaustion.
Adama was thankful for the sudden appearance of Helo making his way down the stairway and heading over. The grief they all felt was apparent on his face, but Karl worked to keep himself together for the time being. “We should get him back to your quarters, Admiral,” he said with a nod of his head down to Lee whose sobs had quieted down a great deal, but was still by no means capable of going anywhere on his own.
Both Bill and Karl crouched beside Lee, slipping their arms around his back while they each took one of his arm’s over their shoulders. Lee supported his weight on his own well enough, but relied on them for some sort of direction and guidance. With the Captain between them, they led him in the direction of the nearest hatch and departed the hangar floor.
Once gone, the crews and pilots milling around took a collective breath. The sight of Captain Adama like that only minutes before would not be soon forgotten by any one who bore witness to it. The Chief, perhaps even more shaken since he considered Starbuck and Apollo to be his close friends, stepped towards the Viper and rested his hand on the nose of it. The moment lasted only a handful of seconds before he turned back around and addressed the crowd.
“Back to work, people.”
-
Lee woke to his faced buried against a pillow, arm sandwiched between it and the mattress. His fingers curled instinctively into it, grasping at a cool patch of fabric. He breathed in and smiled at the lingering scent of the shampoo that remained in the fibers.
“How mad do you think Tigh would be if I blew off the pilots’ brief this morning, Lee?” Kara’s voice sweetly sang into the room and he could swear it felt like morning. A real morning, that is, not the artificial ones they had on Galactica. There would be sun peeking in through window shades and actual breakfast food to be made. He would kill for the chance of having that with her just once. Lee felt her mouth pressed to his exposed back, lightly humming against his skin with each one.
“Not mad at all.” He smiled as he spoke, knowing the XO would be furious if word got out that she had cancelled the meeting, or worse, simply just not shown up.
“Liar.” She laughed into the back of his neck, warm breath tickling his skin.
Lee felt the bed shift as she climbed over him and laid her unquestionably still naked form along his back. The skin to skin contact was electrifying and he focused on the feel of her draped over him. Her hand ran along his side lightly with no real purpose except to comfort.
“Get up,” Kara said with a childish whine to her voice. “You’ve been sleeping so much lately. I should stop wearing you out.”
With his eyes still shut, his muscles flexed beneath her as if stretching to arise. “I’m up, I’m up. You don’t have to make threats like that.”
“Lee.”
Though a second before she had been teasing and kissing him, filling the room with the sound of her soft laughter, there was a change to her tone. “Yeah?” He questioned, afraid to hear her next words.
“Why didn’t you come with me?” Kara whispered against his ear and all of him froze instantly.
“Come with you where?”
“Why’d you let me die alone?” There was a sadness to her words though he could tell she wasn’t crying.
“You’re right here, Kara, what are you talking about?” He suddenly moved, turning on his side and forcing her to shift to lay next to him. When he looked, he expected to see her bare chested and hair spread across the bed they shared. He’d felt her skin against his, of that he was sure, but that wasn’t the sight before him. Kara was in her flight suit, hair pulled tightly back and out of her face. She stared at him with vacant eyes, cold and unfeeling. Lee raised his hand to touch her cheek and just as he was about to make contact, his eyes opened in a different place, another room altogether.
He took a sharp intake of breath as reality dawned on him and the dream he’d left faded before he had time to preserve it in his memory. He wasn’t in the small quarters they sometimes shared, he wasn’t even in their bunk room. He hoped to turn his head to the side and see Kara beside him in bed, but Lee knew she wouldn’t be there. She couldn’t be there. She was dead, wasn’t she? She had died and he didn’t even know how long ago it had happened. Had it been hours? Had it been a year? Was he old and gray now and still dreaming of the only woman he had actually loved?
Lee sat up in the bed, finding himself only dressed in his military issued tanks and briefs. He looked around and saw his flight suit draped over a nearby chair. The quarters were familiar and it took him a moment to recognize it as his father’s own, and this must have been his father’s bed as well, then. His head ached for reasons he wasn’t quite sure of and it only served to distract him from the pang of hunger in his gut. Bare feet were set on the floor and he stood up slowly and with determination, following where his body led him on autopilot back towards the main room of the Admiral’s quarters. Half of him hoped to be alone but the other half prayed not to be, unsure of how he would cope with more loneliness than he already felt.
Adama looked up from his desk and the tattered remains of the model ship he had ruthlessly torn apart after putting Lee to bed. He had held himself barely together for the sake of his son, but when faced with his own grief, the miniaturized wood vessel received the brunt of his anger. In time, he would put it back together once the healing process began, but right now he couldn’t bear even the thought of it. Father and son shared a long look as Lee leaned in the doorway.
“How long was I out?”
Bill glanced to the nearby clock on the wall. “Three hours.”
Lee had hoped it was longer. “Shouldn’t you be in CIC?”
His father shook his head, looking back to the model ship before he stood up. “Tigh’s handling it for now.”
Apollo walked over to his father’s bar setup and poured himself a large helping of whatever alcohol was in the bottle. He took a long sip of it and then headed to sit down on the couch. He didn’t think he’d ever before been in such a state of undress around his father, at least not since he was a young child. Lee didn’t care.
Adama filled himself a glass of the same liquor, though a noticeably smaller amount. “Why didn’t you tell me about you two?”
Another drink was taken and the weight of the glass rested against his bare thigh, Lee’s hand still holding it secure to keep it balanced. “What was I supposed to say? Just come in here one afternoon and tell you I’m sleeping with Zak’s fiancee?” His worlds were fairly cold, but neither of them were going to start a fight over it today.
“She hasn’t been his fiancee in a long time.” Kara had been married between then and now, in fact. Married, subsequently divorced, and then apparently spending her nights with his elder and only remaining son. “How long?”
“Unofficially? Since we got to the algae planet.” If she was here, she would have argued that it wasn’t until afterwards when she made the decision to leave her husband for him, but Kara wasn’t there anymore, and Lee chose the date he preferred. Then again, he had been hers long before then. “And once on New Caprica.”
Adama’s eyebrows rose at the last statement and he took another sip. “After she was married?”
“No. The night before, actually. She said we’d be together, left me on the beach asleep, and married Anders instead.” There was now only a hint of bitterness to his voice when he described it.
Bill nodded in acceptance of the knowledge being imparted to him, though he knew Lee avoided looking his way anyhow. He thought back to the morning Kara was wed, the day after Founders’ Day. He could recall seeing Lee that morning and telling him the news. Now, he finally understood the look that had crossed his son’s face when he found out she had married the other man. “Is that why you two didn’t talk that whole year?”
“Yeah,” Lee said with a nod, drowning himself in more of the burning alcohol.
“Did you love her?”
His son didn’t say anything at first and didn’t even move. Lee stared into the liquid in his glass, entranced and lost in it. Out of nowhere, a soft laugh left his throat for only a second or two. “I loved her back when Zak was still alive, but I knew I couldn’t have her. I’ve loved her for years, Dad.” This was more than he had ever talked to his father about anything in his personal life. All the walls he built up were temporarily destroyed and at that moment, he hadn’t the energy to build them back up.
“Kara-”
“Don’t! Don’t say her name.” His outburst silenced his father altogether. He breathed a calming inhale and felt guilt for raising his voice to the man who was just trying to help him despite suffering from his own grief. Lee hunched forward, elbow on his knee and his face going into his hand. His palm and fingers covered his eyes, trying to block out the dim light of the room, but also the world that it came from. Thoughts of her washed over him, not just abstract thoughts, but specific memories the two had shared, and all of a sudden he was lost again just as he had been before. His other hand let go of the empty glass and it fell the short distance to the floor, clattering but not breaking. His newly freed hand mimicked the one already in use, covering his face.
Adama watched as his son broke apart for the second time that day. Even with all the sorrow he felt at losing Kara, sorrow that he had not even really begun to deal with yet other than the impulse that had made him toss and tear apart his prized model ship, the ache at knowing how much pain his son was in absolutely burned him. He let Lee have a moment before he left his glass on the counter and joined his son on the couch, resting a comforting hand to his son’s back. Bill’s eyes were thick with tears, but he attempted feigning composure, at least enough so that they didn’t spill openly just yet. “It’ll be all right.”
“No,” Lee coughed out. “Nothing will ever be right again.” His body shook as he succumbed to his cries, though they were much softer and controlled than they had been on the deck. “She was the one good thing I had left.”
Nothing the Admiral could say to his son would fix it or ease the pain. There were no magic words that would heal him instantly or even slowly. He leaned in to Lee and wrapped his arm around his back, giving him the reassurance that he wasn’t alone.
“I dreamt about her and she asked me why I didn’t go with her,” Lee confessed in a small, strained voice.
His similar sentiments on the deck earlier had scared Bill more than ever before in his life, knowing what was going through his son’s head. He just lost Kara, he couldn’t afford to lose Lee too, especially not to a decision made in grief. “It was a dream, it wasn’t her. You and I both know K-” he stopped, remembering Lee’s earlier outburst. “She never would have wanted that for you too.”
Even Lee had to admit the scenario he dreamt up was most likely just his guilt manifesting to torture him. It was true, Kara wouldn’t have wanted him to die along with her, but that didn’t make him feel like he’d made the right choice.
“What’s most important, Lee, is that we don’t let her be forgotten. Sometimes it may seem like the best way to move on is to forget. We’ve all forgotten billions of people already so that we could move forward and survive. She shouldn’t be like them. Everyone here is alive and better for having her in their lives. I’m a better man because of her and I know she had that effect on you. We won’t let anyone forget.”
His father’s words brought a sense of comfort, but pain at the same time, remembering that first night they’d met. Even with as drunk as he’d been, he could still recall everything either of them had said over dinner and then over shots once Zak had fallen asleep. He remembered the double dog dare and their almost mistake. He remembered Kara admitting she had no fear of death, but how she just feared being forgotten. She had died and Lee knew it was going to be his job to make sure her biggest fear wasn’t fulfilled post-mortem. He wouldn’t let them forget.
“What am I supposed to do now?” Lee lifted his head, sitting upright as he looked over to his father.
“Nothing, son. Right now we don’t do anything.”
-
Lee returned to his father’s bedroom to find sleep again and Bill took the time alone to deal with his own pain. He sat at his desk, Kara’s folder in front of him. It was the thickest of all the files he had on any of his crew, including those from Pegasus and those that had served decades in the Colonial Fleet. He recalled the looks he’d gotten when he personally requested she be placed on Galactica those years ago, a few months after Zak’s death. Her reputation was already well known among the higher ranks, both for the sheer number of disciplinary reports she had and because she was the best damn pilot nearly anyone had ever seen. Adama liked to think that those who wouldn’t admit she was the very best were merely lying due to some stubborn trait. In the military, those who fell in line were often the most rewarded and decorated. For Kara Thrace to be such a bad seed and a natural at flying was an anomaly most people didn’t know what to do with. It had been an honor to welcome her aboard.
He sifted through the numbers of papers that pre-dated the end of the worlds, barely reading over the typed pages that were littered with the names of the dead. He stopped to take the card she’d made for his last birthday in his hands, opening it to see her smiling face, the fake mustache stuck on her upper lip. To the very day of her death, she had teased him about that hair growth she found so very offensive, smiling as she delivered every verbal jab. Tears slid down his cheeks as he put the card on the pile to finish going through the final items available.
The formal document that made her Commander of Pegasus was there, and that one slip of paper in particular made his heart ache. She had done him proud in that position, prouder than he even imagined she would have done. Her first year in command had been fairly quiet, but she had served it without any real complaint. The crew, still loyal to one another and Cain, had even softened to Kara as the months went by and she remained true to them as their figurehead. She had been fair and just, but nowhere near a pushover. While she had weak points like anyone else, Kara made it a point to learn what she didn’t know from those that did.
There had been some outcry when she jumped up in the ranks, from those who especially knew her temper. Bill had even worried that her anger would be her doom in the position, if she were to fail. Her natural temperament hadn’t faded over the course of her time in command, but she surprised everyone with how levelheaded she could be when necessary. There was no iron fist like in Cain’s day, but it was unnecessary with the respect she garnered from those that served under her. Kara had done him proud.
A few tears stained the ink and he raised his hand to his eyes, wiping away what he could. Adama folded the file shut and set it aside, eyes looking to the picture frames scattered across his desk. They had remained unchanged for so long, filled with photographs of his sons at various ages, even a family photo that included both him and Carolanne. He’d added to them, though, and Kara’s image now joined all the rest. He smiled despite his sadness at the photo of the two of them together in their dress grays, after the small ceremony held when she formally accepted the position of Commander. She had already agreed to it days before, but the tiny step of decorum was necessary for such a moment, in his opinion. The second, and last, photo of her was one of her with Lee from only a few weeks prior. Kara had delivered the picture to him herself and looking at it now, he didn’t know how he had been so unaware to what was going on under his nose. Sure, he and Laura had commented on it here and there, but what Kara and Lee shared was so much more than he ever could have expected. He saw the love on their faces in the picture, their smiles pulled wider than he had ever seen before.
He was lost deep in thought when the knock came to his hatch door. “Come in,” he called out. His hands wiped quickly at his cheeks, doing a poor job at hiding away the sadness that still showed there.
The door opened and a stream of light poured in from the hallway. Laura was slow in her movements as she came in, closing the door behind her. Adama felt guilty at the sight of her, having forgotten she was on board when things had gone to hell. He wondered if she’d stayed on board through the night or returned to Colonial One and then come back again this morning. He stood up to meet her halfway.
“Bill,” she was quiet and gentle in her delivery. “How’s Lee?”
“Sleeping, for now,” his voice was just as soft and he told himself it was more to prevent waking his son than having to do with what he felt.
Laura’s hand came to rest on his forearm, her way of offering herself as his friend for whatever he might need. “Sit down,” she suggested, but it was something of an order. Bill sat on the couch he had comforted Lee on hours earlier in the middle of the night. Roslin sat beside him, not quite touching but not far either.
“Did you know about them?”
“No,” she shook her head. “I suspected something… It wasn’t my place to make them tell us about it if they weren’t ready. But how are you, Bill?”
Faced with the telling the truth or lying, he followed his son’s example. “Not well.”
“I know she meant the world to you… I can’t imagine. Kara and I weren’t that close, but we had our moments. The rest of the fleet received word, they would like to have a memorial service for her if you’d allow it.”
The last thing he wanted to be thinking about were the civilians on their own ships, but the fact that they felt pain at the loss of her touched him. She hadn’t just belonged to him or to Lee or even Sam, Kara Thrace belonged to the whole of remaining humanity. Aside from Roslin or himself, or the scum like Baltar and Zarek, she had one of the most recognizable faces among the people who had heard tales of what she’d done for them. It reminded him again that this was not only their private loss, but a loss for everyone else as well.
“We should wait a few days, let everyone get themselves together.” He nodded as he spoke, fist rising to his mouth and chin in contemplation. Laura knew what he meant, he needed time for himself and for his son to come to terms with the fresh wound. “I can’t believe I’ve lost another child.”
Laura’s own tears formed in her eyes at his words. She, too, had faced the death of her family, even before the genocide. Children were different though, even when they weren’t biologically yours. She pulled him into a hug and he accepted it, letting the tears come once again while he was in her tight embrace.
author:
apodixis
spoilers: Through all seasons, though this takes place in an AU starting at the very end of season 2.
pairings: kara/lee, kara/sam
overall fic rating: R/NC-17
word count: 5,969
notes: See http://apodixis.livejournal.com/685.html for more information.
summary: If God isn't leading the fleet to Earth, can they ever find it?
The return trip to Galactica was done in a haze. Later, Lee wouldn’t even remember the seconds he took to land, his mind completely elsewhere from his physical body. When the Viper he had commandeered was towed off the lift and into the hangar, he couldn’t find the energy to move from where he sat. So long as he stayed absolutely still, part of him was convinced this was all a nightmare. He’d wake up soon and Kara would be next to him, nudging him awake and telling him it was time for them to return to their bunks from the billet she still held in her name. She would kiss him and they would linger there for a few more minutes, groggy and content. Maybe she would even convince him for one last go and it would be rushed and quick, the two of them knowing time wasn’t on their side. If he just closed his eyes in that cockpit, none of it was real.
The mood on the deck was the worst it had ever been, even more somber than the day of Flattop’s one thousandth landing when he and a number of other pilots had gone to an early grave due to simple equipment malfunction. Though the people in CIC were the only ones to hear Kara’s death firsthand, the news had spread faster than an incoming message of condition one. Starbuck wasn’t just any pilot in the fleet. She had been the top gun, the instructor to every new nugget since the Fall, the CAG to all the current pilots, and even Commander to the half of the Colonial Fleet that was stationed on Pegasus under her watch. She had been all those things and a million more, from friend to a complete bastard, from a triad ace to the best person to drink with in the entire fleet. She had been a wife to one, a lover to another. There wasn’t a single person who didn’t feel the physical ache of her death. Even the colonists would soon feel the pain of having lost the military icon that had been known for her bravery and saved their lives a hundred times over.
There was a veil of silence in the hangar, with only mechanical sounds being generated. No one had the heart to say a word and no one especially had the guts to pull the ladder over to where Apollo sat entombed in the ship. Along with word of her death had come the rumors of just what had been exchanged between Starbuck and Apollo in her final minutes. They were friends and so much, much more. A number of times, there had been gambling pools on them, both surrounding them either frakking or fighting. Had the news of their relationship come out at any other moment, there would have been teasing and then money exchanging hands with the winners of the bet. Now, though, no one could even think of such a thing. Even without the romantic relationship between Lee and Kara out in the open, everyone knew how close they had been as friends. Her loss alone as a friend would have been enough to cripple Apollo, but for him to lose her as a lover, a girlfriend, whatever they were, was even more unimaginable. There was a silent understanding among everyone in that room, between those that knew him well and those that didn’t at all.
Should the cylons have jumped into the nearby space at that moment, there would have been no question that the whole of humanity would have fallen to them. Every function on the ship ceased altogether in a communal moment of prayer for the former Commander’s soul.
Adama, despite being plagued by his own grief, left Tigh in command of Galactica to make his way down to where he knew his son would soon be. The sorrow he felt possessed him for the loss of not only his daughter, but someone he had considered an equal. Tigh was his XO and lifelong friend, but Kara had been a Commander, one heartbeat away from his own position. When Bill had appointed her to that position long ago, he had no questions about who would have been the best person to lead the fleet to Earth and safety. Kara Thrace would take care of them all. She would have died doing it. Now, she actually had.
Nearly every head turned to the latest sound in the room, the shuffling of well worn shoes on the walkway composed of metal grating. Adama’s moves were slow and determined and though he had always been a bastion of strength for every single person that still remained alive, it was apparent that the latest loss of life rocked him to the very core. There were no tears, at least not anymore since he had wiped them away on his walk over, but no one could be so daft as to say his face was anywhere near peace. Laura appeared behind him, having still been on the ship after their dinner in his quarters, and she followed him down the stairs, though made no move to interfere. She would be there for him when he needed her. This moment, right now, was not hers to have.
Noticing the Admiral’s direction and intent, a quiet Chief walked with him, dragging the closest ladder with him towards the Mark II that sat powered down and lifeless. Without even a word, Galen understood the only place Adama could have been headed. He was thankful for the older man’s sudden appearance because although he had dealt with a lot of death both on this deck and off of it, the Chief had absolutely no idea how to start fixing this one. Had anyone else died and Lee was in pain over it, Galen would have first and foremost called for Starbuck. Likewise, had Starbuck been suffering some kind of breakdown, Lee would have been the one sought out to come begin to fix her. Despite how much Starbuck and Apollo fought, they were there for each other when the other truly, really needed it. They were a pair.
Galen held the stairway in place for the Admiral as he first climbed it, then backed away to give them what little privacy was available. Silently, Tyrol’s arms rose and expanded outward as he walked in a manner of rudimentary crowd control and everyone else understood. The orange jumpsuit wearing crew and all the others moved far enough away and pretended to amuse themselves with other things, while Galen returned to the arms of his tear stricken wife. The space between everyone and the Viper was more artificial than anything. They would still be able to hear anything said louder than a whisper and see the actions of the father and son, but it was the thought that counted.
The Admiral opened the cockpit, an action he hadn’t done on his own in years upon years. There had once been a time when a ship like that had been his own and he had known all the parts. He could still name them all, could probably still fix most of the problems in fact, especially on the older models. Lee didn’t move or respond to the sliding back of the glass and metal frame and for a second, Bill wondered if his son had died out there too. There was nothing, not even the telltale sign of him breathing in the loose fitting flight suit. “Lee,” Bill said.
At only a foot or so away from Adama, Apollo kept his eyes closed. The squeeze of his helmet helped dull out what was already silent around him. He could barely hear a quiet call of his name and he tried to imagine it higher pitched than it was. Desperately, Lee wanted it to be Kara’s voice coaxing him awake. Please, Gods, please, he told himself. Let it be a dream. The word repeated and he couldn’t hide from it anymore, knowing it to be the sound of his father. Despite the more rational parts of him telling himself to climb up and out of the bird, he couldn’t find the will or the energy to move.
Recognizing that his son wasn’t going to be able to help himself, Bill reached in and unlocked his helmet from around his neck. He pulled on it gently, not wanting to hurt Lee, until it gave way and released. He barely set it aside and it luckily stayed precariously balanced on one of the less steep portions of the wing. The metal collar was removed next and this time he didn’t care what happened to it, letting it fall to the floor with a clatter. He could see Lee’s eyes were gripped tightly shut and it reassured him to see the use of muscle there, which meant he was at least conscious. “Lee.”
His father called again and this time he responded, shaking his head faintly back and forth. It was all he could do as he replayed the last hour or so in his head. He should have stopped her from getting in that Viper. He should have done anything, even if it meant she would have hated him for the rest of their lives. There were a million ways he could have prevented her, from taking a wrench to her Viper’s console or undercarriage to sealing her up in some storage locker and overriding the code until she came to something of her senses. Any idea, however ridiculous, was considered as he sat there.
Lee felt his father’s hand on his shoulder and it jarred him from that fog he had been operating under. His gloved hands rose to his face, backs of his fists pressing into his forehead and his eyes, trying to mute the world further. It was no use. Everything hit him all at once as his chest shuddered with the consuming grief his brain couldn’t even begin to comprehend. There weren’t tears yet, but they were coming. “Tell me she’s not dead, Dad.” Lee breathed out.
He would have given anything, even his own life, to be able to bring Kara back and be able to tell his son that one piece of comfort. “You need to get out of there, Lee.” He opted for the art of misdirection instead, hoping giving him something small to focus on would help him along. “Come on.” Bill’s voice was gentle, and from the cockpit, Lee wasn’t sure if he had ever heard him that soft.
Apollo summoned up strength and courage, putting his hands on the side of the ship to hoist himself up. Adama climbed down the ladder to let Lee descend, but kept close should the boy stumble and lose his footing. Lee made it down just fine on his own, deceptively fine, and though his eyes were open, he made no effort to look his father or anyone in the eye. Lee’s hand remained on the railing of the stairway with his feet on the deck and Bill could see that it was his son’s lifeline right now. Something so simple was the only thing holding him together. He slipped his arm around Lee’s waist to offer him another form of support so he could keep himself from falling apart for another moment.
Lee allowed him to help, but the second his hand released from that railing, everything crumbled anyway. He sank to his knees like he was weighed down by a ton of bricks, palms on the cool flooring as everything poured out of him. Guilt, grief, sorrow. He hated himself for a thousand reasons more than he usually did and he was completely overtaken by it. Tears flowed down his cheeks, sobs nearly making him gag. Lee was always a private person, especially with his emotions, but there was nothing he could do to stop himself now despite the people that still crowded the deck. They tried their best not to stare, but all took glances at the scene from the corners of their eyes, most of them shocked and deeply disturbed by seeing the Admiral’s son fallen so far.
He coughed and felt vomit in the back of his mouth as he continued to surrender to his tears. Lee shook his head, trying to force away everything from him, but it had no effect. Amongst his cries, he barely choked out his words. “I should’ve followed her in.” He repeated his mantra, wishing it to be true the more he said it. “I should’ve followed her in.”
Adama’s own eyes were wet with tears as he watched his son like he’d never seen him before. He had lost his mother and managed to cope relatively fine. He had lost Zak and been torn apart by it, but this volatile reaction was something he had never imagined. Perhaps it was the culmination of every ounce of pain Lee had ever felt but kept inside, finally manifesting when he was pushed over the edge by the death of the woman he… Adama didn’t even know how to describe what Kara was to him. He said he loved her over the wireless and she had confessed it as well. Even he suspected something between the two of them and had briefly discussed it with Roslin once or twice before. But love? He had never truly expected it went that far deep for them and the knowledge of it only made his body ache more for the loss his son felt. “We should go, Lee.” He leaned down to help his son up.
“I can’t go. I can’t. I should’ve died out there with her.” Lee was speaking to no one in particular now, just to himself. He looked up to his father suddenly, his eyes bloodshot. “Let me go back out there. Please.” And perhaps what hurt Bill most that his son either consciously or unconsciously echoed one of Kara’s last sentences. “I have to go.”
“You can’t!” Adama was suddenly stern, a stark contrast to how soothing he had been before. He didn’t mean anything by his tone, but rather hoped it would do something to shake Lee out of the loop he seemed to be stuck in. It had some effect, at least Lee stopped talking, but he nearly collapsed down again onto the metal plating as his body gave way to exhaustion.
Adama was thankful for the sudden appearance of Helo making his way down the stairway and heading over. The grief they all felt was apparent on his face, but Karl worked to keep himself together for the time being. “We should get him back to your quarters, Admiral,” he said with a nod of his head down to Lee whose sobs had quieted down a great deal, but was still by no means capable of going anywhere on his own.
Both Bill and Karl crouched beside Lee, slipping their arms around his back while they each took one of his arm’s over their shoulders. Lee supported his weight on his own well enough, but relied on them for some sort of direction and guidance. With the Captain between them, they led him in the direction of the nearest hatch and departed the hangar floor.
Once gone, the crews and pilots milling around took a collective breath. The sight of Captain Adama like that only minutes before would not be soon forgotten by any one who bore witness to it. The Chief, perhaps even more shaken since he considered Starbuck and Apollo to be his close friends, stepped towards the Viper and rested his hand on the nose of it. The moment lasted only a handful of seconds before he turned back around and addressed the crowd.
“Back to work, people.”
-
Lee woke to his faced buried against a pillow, arm sandwiched between it and the mattress. His fingers curled instinctively into it, grasping at a cool patch of fabric. He breathed in and smiled at the lingering scent of the shampoo that remained in the fibers.
“How mad do you think Tigh would be if I blew off the pilots’ brief this morning, Lee?” Kara’s voice sweetly sang into the room and he could swear it felt like morning. A real morning, that is, not the artificial ones they had on Galactica. There would be sun peeking in through window shades and actual breakfast food to be made. He would kill for the chance of having that with her just once. Lee felt her mouth pressed to his exposed back, lightly humming against his skin with each one.
“Not mad at all.” He smiled as he spoke, knowing the XO would be furious if word got out that she had cancelled the meeting, or worse, simply just not shown up.
“Liar.” She laughed into the back of his neck, warm breath tickling his skin.
Lee felt the bed shift as she climbed over him and laid her unquestionably still naked form along his back. The skin to skin contact was electrifying and he focused on the feel of her draped over him. Her hand ran along his side lightly with no real purpose except to comfort.
“Get up,” Kara said with a childish whine to her voice. “You’ve been sleeping so much lately. I should stop wearing you out.”
With his eyes still shut, his muscles flexed beneath her as if stretching to arise. “I’m up, I’m up. You don’t have to make threats like that.”
“Lee.”
Though a second before she had been teasing and kissing him, filling the room with the sound of her soft laughter, there was a change to her tone. “Yeah?” He questioned, afraid to hear her next words.
“Why didn’t you come with me?” Kara whispered against his ear and all of him froze instantly.
“Come with you where?”
“Why’d you let me die alone?” There was a sadness to her words though he could tell she wasn’t crying.
“You’re right here, Kara, what are you talking about?” He suddenly moved, turning on his side and forcing her to shift to lay next to him. When he looked, he expected to see her bare chested and hair spread across the bed they shared. He’d felt her skin against his, of that he was sure, but that wasn’t the sight before him. Kara was in her flight suit, hair pulled tightly back and out of her face. She stared at him with vacant eyes, cold and unfeeling. Lee raised his hand to touch her cheek and just as he was about to make contact, his eyes opened in a different place, another room altogether.
He took a sharp intake of breath as reality dawned on him and the dream he’d left faded before he had time to preserve it in his memory. He wasn’t in the small quarters they sometimes shared, he wasn’t even in their bunk room. He hoped to turn his head to the side and see Kara beside him in bed, but Lee knew she wouldn’t be there. She couldn’t be there. She was dead, wasn’t she? She had died and he didn’t even know how long ago it had happened. Had it been hours? Had it been a year? Was he old and gray now and still dreaming of the only woman he had actually loved?
Lee sat up in the bed, finding himself only dressed in his military issued tanks and briefs. He looked around and saw his flight suit draped over a nearby chair. The quarters were familiar and it took him a moment to recognize it as his father’s own, and this must have been his father’s bed as well, then. His head ached for reasons he wasn’t quite sure of and it only served to distract him from the pang of hunger in his gut. Bare feet were set on the floor and he stood up slowly and with determination, following where his body led him on autopilot back towards the main room of the Admiral’s quarters. Half of him hoped to be alone but the other half prayed not to be, unsure of how he would cope with more loneliness than he already felt.
Adama looked up from his desk and the tattered remains of the model ship he had ruthlessly torn apart after putting Lee to bed. He had held himself barely together for the sake of his son, but when faced with his own grief, the miniaturized wood vessel received the brunt of his anger. In time, he would put it back together once the healing process began, but right now he couldn’t bear even the thought of it. Father and son shared a long look as Lee leaned in the doorway.
“How long was I out?”
Bill glanced to the nearby clock on the wall. “Three hours.”
Lee had hoped it was longer. “Shouldn’t you be in CIC?”
His father shook his head, looking back to the model ship before he stood up. “Tigh’s handling it for now.”
Apollo walked over to his father’s bar setup and poured himself a large helping of whatever alcohol was in the bottle. He took a long sip of it and then headed to sit down on the couch. He didn’t think he’d ever before been in such a state of undress around his father, at least not since he was a young child. Lee didn’t care.
Adama filled himself a glass of the same liquor, though a noticeably smaller amount. “Why didn’t you tell me about you two?”
Another drink was taken and the weight of the glass rested against his bare thigh, Lee’s hand still holding it secure to keep it balanced. “What was I supposed to say? Just come in here one afternoon and tell you I’m sleeping with Zak’s fiancee?” His worlds were fairly cold, but neither of them were going to start a fight over it today.
“She hasn’t been his fiancee in a long time.” Kara had been married between then and now, in fact. Married, subsequently divorced, and then apparently spending her nights with his elder and only remaining son. “How long?”
“Unofficially? Since we got to the algae planet.” If she was here, she would have argued that it wasn’t until afterwards when she made the decision to leave her husband for him, but Kara wasn’t there anymore, and Lee chose the date he preferred. Then again, he had been hers long before then. “And once on New Caprica.”
Adama’s eyebrows rose at the last statement and he took another sip. “After she was married?”
“No. The night before, actually. She said we’d be together, left me on the beach asleep, and married Anders instead.” There was now only a hint of bitterness to his voice when he described it.
Bill nodded in acceptance of the knowledge being imparted to him, though he knew Lee avoided looking his way anyhow. He thought back to the morning Kara was wed, the day after Founders’ Day. He could recall seeing Lee that morning and telling him the news. Now, he finally understood the look that had crossed his son’s face when he found out she had married the other man. “Is that why you two didn’t talk that whole year?”
“Yeah,” Lee said with a nod, drowning himself in more of the burning alcohol.
“Did you love her?”
His son didn’t say anything at first and didn’t even move. Lee stared into the liquid in his glass, entranced and lost in it. Out of nowhere, a soft laugh left his throat for only a second or two. “I loved her back when Zak was still alive, but I knew I couldn’t have her. I’ve loved her for years, Dad.” This was more than he had ever talked to his father about anything in his personal life. All the walls he built up were temporarily destroyed and at that moment, he hadn’t the energy to build them back up.
“Kara-”
“Don’t! Don’t say her name.” His outburst silenced his father altogether. He breathed a calming inhale and felt guilt for raising his voice to the man who was just trying to help him despite suffering from his own grief. Lee hunched forward, elbow on his knee and his face going into his hand. His palm and fingers covered his eyes, trying to block out the dim light of the room, but also the world that it came from. Thoughts of her washed over him, not just abstract thoughts, but specific memories the two had shared, and all of a sudden he was lost again just as he had been before. His other hand let go of the empty glass and it fell the short distance to the floor, clattering but not breaking. His newly freed hand mimicked the one already in use, covering his face.
Adama watched as his son broke apart for the second time that day. Even with all the sorrow he felt at losing Kara, sorrow that he had not even really begun to deal with yet other than the impulse that had made him toss and tear apart his prized model ship, the ache at knowing how much pain his son was in absolutely burned him. He let Lee have a moment before he left his glass on the counter and joined his son on the couch, resting a comforting hand to his son’s back. Bill’s eyes were thick with tears, but he attempted feigning composure, at least enough so that they didn’t spill openly just yet. “It’ll be all right.”
“No,” Lee coughed out. “Nothing will ever be right again.” His body shook as he succumbed to his cries, though they were much softer and controlled than they had been on the deck. “She was the one good thing I had left.”
Nothing the Admiral could say to his son would fix it or ease the pain. There were no magic words that would heal him instantly or even slowly. He leaned in to Lee and wrapped his arm around his back, giving him the reassurance that he wasn’t alone.
“I dreamt about her and she asked me why I didn’t go with her,” Lee confessed in a small, strained voice.
His similar sentiments on the deck earlier had scared Bill more than ever before in his life, knowing what was going through his son’s head. He just lost Kara, he couldn’t afford to lose Lee too, especially not to a decision made in grief. “It was a dream, it wasn’t her. You and I both know K-” he stopped, remembering Lee’s earlier outburst. “She never would have wanted that for you too.”
Even Lee had to admit the scenario he dreamt up was most likely just his guilt manifesting to torture him. It was true, Kara wouldn’t have wanted him to die along with her, but that didn’t make him feel like he’d made the right choice.
“What’s most important, Lee, is that we don’t let her be forgotten. Sometimes it may seem like the best way to move on is to forget. We’ve all forgotten billions of people already so that we could move forward and survive. She shouldn’t be like them. Everyone here is alive and better for having her in their lives. I’m a better man because of her and I know she had that effect on you. We won’t let anyone forget.”
His father’s words brought a sense of comfort, but pain at the same time, remembering that first night they’d met. Even with as drunk as he’d been, he could still recall everything either of them had said over dinner and then over shots once Zak had fallen asleep. He remembered the double dog dare and their almost mistake. He remembered Kara admitting she had no fear of death, but how she just feared being forgotten. She had died and Lee knew it was going to be his job to make sure her biggest fear wasn’t fulfilled post-mortem. He wouldn’t let them forget.
“What am I supposed to do now?” Lee lifted his head, sitting upright as he looked over to his father.
“Nothing, son. Right now we don’t do anything.”
-
Lee returned to his father’s bedroom to find sleep again and Bill took the time alone to deal with his own pain. He sat at his desk, Kara’s folder in front of him. It was the thickest of all the files he had on any of his crew, including those from Pegasus and those that had served decades in the Colonial Fleet. He recalled the looks he’d gotten when he personally requested she be placed on Galactica those years ago, a few months after Zak’s death. Her reputation was already well known among the higher ranks, both for the sheer number of disciplinary reports she had and because she was the best damn pilot nearly anyone had ever seen. Adama liked to think that those who wouldn’t admit she was the very best were merely lying due to some stubborn trait. In the military, those who fell in line were often the most rewarded and decorated. For Kara Thrace to be such a bad seed and a natural at flying was an anomaly most people didn’t know what to do with. It had been an honor to welcome her aboard.
He sifted through the numbers of papers that pre-dated the end of the worlds, barely reading over the typed pages that were littered with the names of the dead. He stopped to take the card she’d made for his last birthday in his hands, opening it to see her smiling face, the fake mustache stuck on her upper lip. To the very day of her death, she had teased him about that hair growth she found so very offensive, smiling as she delivered every verbal jab. Tears slid down his cheeks as he put the card on the pile to finish going through the final items available.
The formal document that made her Commander of Pegasus was there, and that one slip of paper in particular made his heart ache. She had done him proud in that position, prouder than he even imagined she would have done. Her first year in command had been fairly quiet, but she had served it without any real complaint. The crew, still loyal to one another and Cain, had even softened to Kara as the months went by and she remained true to them as their figurehead. She had been fair and just, but nowhere near a pushover. While she had weak points like anyone else, Kara made it a point to learn what she didn’t know from those that did.
There had been some outcry when she jumped up in the ranks, from those who especially knew her temper. Bill had even worried that her anger would be her doom in the position, if she were to fail. Her natural temperament hadn’t faded over the course of her time in command, but she surprised everyone with how levelheaded she could be when necessary. There was no iron fist like in Cain’s day, but it was unnecessary with the respect she garnered from those that served under her. Kara had done him proud.
A few tears stained the ink and he raised his hand to his eyes, wiping away what he could. Adama folded the file shut and set it aside, eyes looking to the picture frames scattered across his desk. They had remained unchanged for so long, filled with photographs of his sons at various ages, even a family photo that included both him and Carolanne. He’d added to them, though, and Kara’s image now joined all the rest. He smiled despite his sadness at the photo of the two of them together in their dress grays, after the small ceremony held when she formally accepted the position of Commander. She had already agreed to it days before, but the tiny step of decorum was necessary for such a moment, in his opinion. The second, and last, photo of her was one of her with Lee from only a few weeks prior. Kara had delivered the picture to him herself and looking at it now, he didn’t know how he had been so unaware to what was going on under his nose. Sure, he and Laura had commented on it here and there, but what Kara and Lee shared was so much more than he ever could have expected. He saw the love on their faces in the picture, their smiles pulled wider than he had ever seen before.
He was lost deep in thought when the knock came to his hatch door. “Come in,” he called out. His hands wiped quickly at his cheeks, doing a poor job at hiding away the sadness that still showed there.
The door opened and a stream of light poured in from the hallway. Laura was slow in her movements as she came in, closing the door behind her. Adama felt guilty at the sight of her, having forgotten she was on board when things had gone to hell. He wondered if she’d stayed on board through the night or returned to Colonial One and then come back again this morning. He stood up to meet her halfway.
“Bill,” she was quiet and gentle in her delivery. “How’s Lee?”
“Sleeping, for now,” his voice was just as soft and he told himself it was more to prevent waking his son than having to do with what he felt.
Laura’s hand came to rest on his forearm, her way of offering herself as his friend for whatever he might need. “Sit down,” she suggested, but it was something of an order. Bill sat on the couch he had comforted Lee on hours earlier in the middle of the night. Roslin sat beside him, not quite touching but not far either.
“Did you know about them?”
“No,” she shook her head. “I suspected something… It wasn’t my place to make them tell us about it if they weren’t ready. But how are you, Bill?”
Faced with the telling the truth or lying, he followed his son’s example. “Not well.”
“I know she meant the world to you… I can’t imagine. Kara and I weren’t that close, but we had our moments. The rest of the fleet received word, they would like to have a memorial service for her if you’d allow it.”
The last thing he wanted to be thinking about were the civilians on their own ships, but the fact that they felt pain at the loss of her touched him. She hadn’t just belonged to him or to Lee or even Sam, Kara Thrace belonged to the whole of remaining humanity. Aside from Roslin or himself, or the scum like Baltar and Zarek, she had one of the most recognizable faces among the people who had heard tales of what she’d done for them. It reminded him again that this was not only their private loss, but a loss for everyone else as well.
“We should wait a few days, let everyone get themselves together.” He nodded as he spoke, fist rising to his mouth and chin in contemplation. Laura knew what he meant, he needed time for himself and for his son to come to terms with the fresh wound. “I can’t believe I’ve lost another child.”
Laura’s own tears formed in her eyes at his words. She, too, had faced the death of her family, even before the genocide. Children were different though, even when they weren’t biologically yours. She pulled him into a hug and he accepted it, letting the tears come once again while he was in her tight embrace.