Fowler's Five Stages... Part 2
***
Two days later, life pretended to return to normal, but it wasn't. Gaeta was still heavily on Brendan's mind, to the point where he threw down his hand in the middle of a game. "Am I crazy?"
"Yes," Racetrack said.
"I didn't even tell you why," he retorted.
"You don't need to," Racetrack said, slightly gleefully. "The answer is still yes."
"You're a huge help when a man is going through an emotional crisis, you know that?" Hoshi asked her, amused. He poured more booze into Brendan's glass. "I'll bite. What are you asking about specifically."
Brendan waited for a moment, because he was used to Narcho adding in a jab, but Narcho was uncharacteristically quiet. He sighed.
"I'll bet if you asked him, he couldn't even tell you my first name. But it doesn't matter. When I thought he was going to die- FRAK! This sounds so… so…. girly."
"Hardly," Racetrack snorted. "I would never say anything like that."
"I repeat my earlier assessment," Hoshi muttered.
"You spend a lot of time with him on the Demetrius?" Narcho asked Brendan. Brendan nodded. "Thought so." He shuffled the cards and began dealing.
"You know," Racetrack mused, leaning her chin on her hand, "I hate to be the one to say it, but if you do want him, now's the time, Hot Dog."
Hoshi got it first. "I don't know if I should smack you upside the head or admit that you have a point," he mused. "Callous though it may be."
"Wait, you're not saying…" Brendan stared at them in horror. "You think I should go in now, take advantage while he's vulnerable?" Hoshi flushed, but Racetrack just shrugged. "That's sick," Brendan said, slamming down his cards.
"I'm not saying it's a good thing," Racetrack said. "But it is true."
"Have a good night," Brendan said disgustedly, and stalked away.
He didn't realize that he was trembling until he'd made his way back to the pilots' racks and pulled his privacy curtain closed. He bowed his head and ran his hands through his hair, trying to get a grip. A few deep breaths helped a little, and a glass of water helped a little more.
"Hot Dog?" The hatch swung open, and he heard footsteps. "Hot Dog," Racetrack repeated, "I know you're in here." He didn't answer, and she sighed. "Come out, come out, wherever you are." The privacy curtain was yanked open. "I knew where you were," she said, confronting him.
"Of course you did," Brendan answered crossly. "Where else would I be? The point of the privacy curtain is you're supposed to pretend that you don't have a clue."
Racetrack made a face. "I'm sorry," she finally said. "For what I said back in the rec room."
"Forget it."
"No. You were right. It really is a callous thing to say."
"Yeah. It really is."
"Never took you for the sensitive type though."
"Yeah, well." Brendan sighed. "Allison was an amputee."
"Allison?" Racetrack asked, surprised. "Your sister? You never said."
"Never wanted to," Brendan insisted. "I mean, she wasn't 'Allison, the amputee'. She was my sister, y'know? She hated it when that was all anyone could see."
"Oh. Oh, frak." Racetrack sighed and stood up. "All right. I deserve it for that one. Go ahead- free shot."
"It's all right." Brendan moved over.
Racetrack sat down beside him. She was silent for a long moment, and then finally said, "Look. I don't want this to come out wrong, okay? So don't take it that way. But the whole thing about now being the time to make your move? I admit, I was thinking that Gaeta's really vulnerable now, and he'd be more open to it. But it's not just that."
"What is it?"
"Everyone on this ship has someone who's got their back, you know? And I don't just mean the lovers. I've got Skulls. Starbuck and Helo have got each other. Anders has Barolay."
"Had," Hot Dog interrupted glumly. "Barolay's dead."
"Frak." Racetrack took a long moment to absorb that, and then shook her head. "Anyway, my point is, Gaeta doesn't have anyone like that. Not really. There was Helo, but book says they won't be so close after all this. And there's Dee, but she's still so frakked in the head from Apollo, she's focused on her own life. But that's it, really. And Gaeta could use someone right now. Someone who really gives a shit about him. And you wouldn't be pretending. You really do give a shit, and you did before he lost the leg."
"Yeah."
"What's stopping you then?"
"What, walk right into the infirmary and say, 'hey, Gaeta, you and me, how about it?' Racetrack, even I'm not that dumb."
"Yeah. I guess not." She sighed. "Are we good?"
Brendan nodded. "We're good."
"Well, then, on that note, I'm going to leave before I put my foot in my mouth again. Have a good night, Hot Dog."
"You too." He watched as she slid off the rack, and then he pulled the privacy curtain shut again and laid back. He folded his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling until his eyes closed of their own accord.
***
Gaeta. Or Felix, I guess, figuring what the rest of this letter is going to say,
I know this is the worst time for anything like this, and I don't want you to get the wrong idea, okay? So first, let me tell you that I've had a thing for you for a long time, long before you lost the leg. To give you an idea, I thought about it that night we had dinner together on New Caprica. So yeah, that long.
But the thing is, you almost died, and that made me realize… this is important to me. You are important to me. You probably are going to laugh when you read that, because I'm not even sure you know my first name, but it's true. And I'd really like there to be something more with us. A lot more, really. And if I don't say it, I know I'm going to regret it.
I'm pretty sure the idea of frakking anyone sounds crazy right now. I'm guessing you feel all off balance and only a part of yourself, and like the stump is not you and completely overwhelmed. And I know you're hurting, and you're going to be hurting for a long while. (The swelling takes about four months to go away completely, and that's only if you stay off it.) So, yeah, I get that. Believe me, I get it.
I don't know much about the military, and yeah, I don't know you as well as I'd like to yet (I still haven't gotten a good look at you naked, although yeah, I've tried), but I know a little bit about this sort of stuff, and I thought I'd write you a list. Because if I was you, I'd be feeling like no one would even want to look at me again, much less frak me (and for all the rumors about the sheep, I'm not desperate, which I only say because I know you're thinking it), so… yeah.
How To Live and Love as an Amputee, by Brendan Costanza
1.) Blow jobs don't change. I mean, they shouldn't, right? You do them lying down (most of the time), and it's all mouth, so… yeah. Blow jobs are the same. Which is good, because I'll be honest. Some of the stuff coming up scares me a little, and I like blow jobs. A lot. And I've always liked giving head when I'm with girls, so I think I'd really like giving it to a guy, too.
2.) I have to put this one in or Narcho and Hoshi will kill me, but hand jobs? Same thing. (Although I've never had a hand job as awesome as getting head, but they swear by it.)
3.) Now the butt sex. Yeah, topping is going to be hard. For one, your balance is going to be off for a long time. You've lived your life with two legs, and getting used to having only one, it's not easy. And also, it's going to be a really long time before you can put weight on the stump. I know that's frustrating as hell, but better to listen to Cottle than set yourself back.
4.) That said, topping from the bottom or whatever you call it can really work. Like in a chair. Like, you sitting in the chair. I've never done that before (the butt sex thing- I've done the chair. You better believe I've done the chair) so I'm not sure I'll like it, but I've been told it's good and I think I'd be willing to try.
5.) Bottoming will take a little adjusting, but not as much. It depends on what position you like, I guess. Pillows could really help with balance and taking the pressure off the stump, and I'm pretty strong, so I think I can hold you up in other positions. It's worth a shot, anyway.
6.) I know one of the hardest parts to get over is going to be looking at it. Not for me, but for you. You're going to think that your leg is ugly. It's going to be scarred, and it's going to look weird to you, and you're going to think it turns me off. Well, yeah, a stump doesn't turn me on, I'm not a pervert. (Well, I am. But not that kind of pervert.) But you turn me on, and I'm used to seeing a stump. It's going to be okay.
7.) Scar tissue can be really erogenous once it's healed. And kissing is ALWAYS erogenous. And you could be a double amputee and still kiss. Just saying. Kissing is good. Really good.
8.) Bondage, toys, stuff like that… believe it or not, I've never gotten too deep into it. But if you're interested, we can definitely make it work. Believe me, I've seen some pictures that gave me nightmares then, but now, I might look at them kind of different.
9.) I'm figuring you're going to have your own quarters. It makes sense, although not much else does these days, so I don't know why I'm thinking that. But even if you don't, for all the jokes, sex with me takes a lot longer than five minutes. Especially with you, because it's not just sex.
I'm sure there's more I haven't thought of, but those are the highlights, okay? Like I said, I know you probably are thinking I'm crazy and maybe I am. But that doesn't make any of this any less true.
Anyway, think about it. I can wait.
Yours,
Brendan
***
He waited a day after he wrote the letter to go down to sickbay. It took that long to gather up his courage, and besides, no matter what Racetrack had said about Gaeta not having anyone to have his back, surely there must be people visiting. If he was in Gaeta's inner circle, he'd be down there every time he was off duty. He could still smell the hospital on Libran where he'd spent nights on a cramped cot in Allison's room, because the nurses were too kind to kick him out when visiting hours were over.
But when he got down to the sickbay and saw Gaeta in his bed, wearing a hospital gown and eyes closed, his courage wavered. He shoved the note deeper into his pocket.
Gaeta heard his footsteps and opened his eyes, looking at him with confusion. It had been a few days since Brendan had seen Gaeta, and as the impact of those eyes hit him, he had the feeling that in the future, he'd have a very hard time saying no to Felix Gaeta. He moved a chair over to the bed, sat down and pulled the note out of his pocket.
How are you? would have been the logical question. But it was one Allison had always hated, because as she'd raged one day, she'd just lost a leg, how did he think she was?
"It’s a gift," Brendan explained, with no further preamble. "It’s a list of all the things you can still do when you frak. I thought if I were you, I’d be really worried about that but with all the morpha it might be hard to think." The words were tripping off his tongue, and suddenly, Brendan knew exactly how he was going to handle this. "I asked around and Helo says you’re gay. Hope that’s true because it’s a very specific list. I had to guess about the gay stuff of course but I figure there’s no secret to it."
"Why ever would you bring me a gift?" Gaeta asked incredulously.
"You don’t bring people gifts when they’re sick? We did it all the time on Libran. Granted, it’s a bit hard to find flowers on Galactica but that’s why I made the list after all. Sure you’ve had other people bring you..." He noticed the empty bedside table, and frak Racetrack was right. He couldn't dwell on it, or he'd never get through this. "Or maybe not. Anyway, you’ll like it. Here goes. Good news first. Blowjobs? Work exactly like they did before."
"Great," Gaeta groaned, closing his eyes again.
A machine beeped, and Brendan's eyes flicked to it automatically. Not morpha, then. Not right now. Cottle would want to get Gaeta off it quick anyway, and that was going to mean a lot of pain. He remembered Allison laughing through her tears, and redoubled his efforts.
"So, blowjobs are a go. And so are hand jobs. Which, incidentally, means jerking off works just fine, too. Hell, could you imagine if Cottle had had to take your arm, though? So yeah, right there are two things you can do no problem.
"Number three. Sex. Like, real sex." Gaeta's eyes flickered at that, and Brendan took heart. He rallied, not looking down much at the list and relaxing. He continued down the list, not looking at the paper and warming up to his subject as he talked extemporaneously. Really, when he'd written the note, there was a lot he hadn't thought about in this kind of depth. He went on until he got the impression he was overwhelming Gaeta, and then decided to wrap it up.
"Anyway," he said, standing up and folding the note tightly. "I’ll leave this with you for further inspection, but I have to go back on duty or Helo will have my ass. Hope you’ll be up and about soon, Gaeta. We’re a man short at the card games, what with you being here and Athena being in the brig."
"Sharon is in the brig?"
No one had told him that? Brendan hid his shocked expression as he put the chair back out of Gaeta's way. "Shot a Cylon," he explained. "Good riddance, too. Anything I can get you? Want to have an extended version of that list? Because I have a free shift coming up."
Gaeta hesitated. "I’m going to be moved to new quarters tomorrow," he finally said. "Could you maybe bring my things over there from my locker? I don’t know who else I could ask."
"Of course,” Brendan said without hesitation. "I’ll do it first thing after patrol. See you later, Gaeta."
He left the infirmary, trying to keep his hands from shaking until he was out of Gaeta's eyesight. He'd done it. He'd really done it. He'd given Gaeta the note.
He wondered if he'd ever be able to breathe normally again.
***
The bridge officers' rack didn't look any different than the pilots' rack. Brendan had rather thought it might be a little nicer, but it wasn't. Not at all. He looked around as Hoshi let him in.
"What were you expecting?" Hoshi asked when he saw Brendan's expression. "Velvet hangings and feather mattresses?"
"Yeah, it is kind of stupid, isn't it?" Brendan admitted. He opened Gaeta's locker and found a duffel bag. "Who's going to rate this one?"
"Noel," Hoshi said shortly.
"Yeah?" Brendan though about that for a minute, and then goggled at Hoshi. "You guys are moving in together?"
"Close as we can get to it, yeah," Hoshi said, his ears pink.
"Would have thought you'd want to be married first, being a former chaplain," Brendan mused. He started moving Gaeta's clothes into the bag. Despite the fact they looked exactly like his own, right down to the Fleet-issued underwear, there was a strange sort of intimacy about the task. Brendan's hands kept lingering on the fabric.
Hoshi didn't notice. "Yeah, well, former is the operative word," he said. "Besides, my sect didn't require celibacy. It's not like I'd never had sex before Noel."
"Why'd you quit?" Brendan asked. He looked at the shoes in the bottom of Gaeta's locker sadly. Felix was going to hate seeing those. But he couldn't leave them, either. He picked them up.
"I wasn't cut out for it," Hoshi admitted, sitting down at the table. "In the long run, I fit the CIC better."
"You still believe in the gods?" Brendan asked. He noticed Gaeta didn't have any icons in his locker, no indication of faith.
"Yes," Hoshi said. "But I just… it's hard for me to bring them to other people."
"Funny. I've been thinking a lot about what you said to me on New Caprica."
A look that might have been panic began to bloom on Hoshi's face. "The threesome?" he asked.
"No. Fowler's five stages of faith."
"Fowler's five stages…?" Hoshi's brow furrowed. "Oh, right. I really told you about that?"
"Well, you were pretty drunk. Anyway, it just stuck with me, you know? And it got me wondering how much it applies to other things."
Hoshi shrugged. "The whole applying it to sexual identity was all me. Honestly? I think people have to redefine themselves all the time. Not just with faith or sex, but anything. I was a chaplain, and I switched over to CIC. You were a clerk, and now you're a pilot. People get married, they have babies, they lose jobs, they gain friends, they find new interests… it's a process that happens all your life."
"And when you lose a leg…" Brendan mused.
"That would be a biggie." Hoshi agreed. "I'm going to clear out now- I've got duty, and I want to make sure Noel knows you're in here right now so he can get his ass in gear before someone else decides to pounce. Pull the hatch shut when you leave." Hoshi smiled at Brendan one more time and then left the room, leaving Brendan alone.
The locker was just about empty now. Brendan noticed that there was only one picture stuck to the door; a picture of Gaeta and Dualla which Brendan was almost positive had been taken on New Caprica. Other than that, there was nothing.
The contents of the shelves in the rack were a little more interesting. There was a picture of two men shaking hands. Brenden didn't recognize either of them. A brother, maybe? Did Gaeta even have a brother? Or an old picture of his father? It was impossible to tell.
There were books, of course. Brendan would have been more surprised if there weren't. One was on computer systems- he only understood about half the words in the title. Two were tactics manuals. And the last was a high school text book on the Colonial government. Not much of a library. Brendan wished he'd managed to find Gaeta a book. A clock, a shaving kit, a few boxes with odds and ends that made no sense. A tube of lube, which made Brendan flush. He also couldn't help noticing that it was unopened. There were a few condoms there as well, near their expiration date. And something that he really couldn't figure out the function, but he was pretty sure if he asked Hoshi or Narcho, they'd not only explain, but draw diagrams and demonstrate.
He'd hoped to get a little more insight into Felix Gaeta by going through his things, but the truth was, there wasn't much here to tell a story. But as he remembered the emptiness of the bedside table, he realized that might be the story right there.
***
Gaeta's new room was a family quarters. "Neat," Brendan said when he stepped in, pretending he didn't notice how gray and tired Gaeta looked. "Why did they move you to family quarters?"
"There's a private head here," Gaeta explained. "It's easier than modifying the officers' head."
Brendan deposited the bag on the bed where Gaeta could reach it easily and went to check out the head. They'd installed the shower seat correctly- Brendan checked to make sure they'd gotten the reinforcements right. The first time he'd done it at home, Allison had ended up flat on her back and not speaking to him for two days. He tested the bars near the toilets and nodded satisfaction. But Gaeta wouldn't appreciate any of that.
"Hey, you have a chair in here!" He was on autopilot again, saying what should come to his mind first. "I wouldn’t mind sitting when I’m taking showers! You think Anders would shoot me too? I could call Starbuck a toaster or something." He left the head. Gaeta looked like he was sort of smiling, but in a rusty sort of way. "Except she’d probably beat me up before he’d get to pull the trigger," he mused. "I wouldn’t lose a leg from that. Just teeth."
The smile widened, and even though it was clearly forced, the sight of it was like sunshine to Brendan. He smiled back hopefully, easily.
"You know," he said when Gaeta didn't speak, "if there's anything else you need, just ask me. Like, I know you probably want to sleep now, but if you need help getting your stuff organized, or if you've got any books out on loan to the others and want them back, let me know."
"Timmins has got my copy of Krantos Falling. It's the only novel I've got."
"I'll get it for you," Brendan promised. He opened the duffel bag that was on the bed, moved it to the desk, and pulled out a towel and some clean clothes, just setting them out without comment. "I'll let you get some sleep," he said. "You look like you could use it."
Gaeta nodded stiffly. "Yeah. Thanks, Hot Dog."
Brendan smiled. "Anything," he promised, and then let himself out.
***
Gaeta hadn't read the note yet- not for real. That was blazingly clear. Brendan closed the hatch behind him and breathed out slowly. If Gaeta- Felix didn't read the note in the next few days, he probably wouldn't read it. And in some ways, that might be for the best. Brendan thought of that dead look on Felix's face and the slump in his shoulders. Felix wasn't ready for anything like that to happen now. And thinking about it, that didn't surprise him.
What did surprise him was how much he wanted to be around Felix regardless- maybe even more. He wasn't sure what that meant, but he did know he liked it.
With a small smile, he went to find Timmins.
***
"Hey Kim," Brendan said, approaching the nurse carrying the heavy tray, "is that for Gaeta?"
"Yeah." Kim looked tired. Brendan put his own bowl on it and took the tray.
"I can take it for you."
"Seriously?" Kim said with relief. "Can you make sure he eats it all? Cottle's been worried, and I know he'll do it better for you than for me."
"No problem," Brendan reassured him. He counted the painkillers that were on the tray, just to keep track. "I'll bring the tray back later."
"Thanks, Hot Dog. I'll owe you."
"You bet," Brendan said with a grin, and knocked on Felix's hatch.
Felix was in bed. He looked up when Brendan came in, a small smile playing on his lips. "Hey, Hot Dog."
"Gaeta. How are ya? You are never going to believe what happened today."
He pulled the table over closer to Felix's bed and plopped the tray down on it, and then extended a hand to help Felix sit. Felix pulled himself up, not looking overly happy about it. The bandages on his stump looked freshly changed, and his hair looked like it had been washed recently. "What happened today?" Felix asked reluctantly.
Brendan launched into the complicated saga of Dozer and Twister and Ensign Davis, which was serving as the current drama and entertainment. It was one of those days that it was easier to talk about something light, and to watch Felix smile- even if it was just a little. Felix ate automatically. Granted, no one ate the algae with any sort of relish, but the point was he was relaxing.
"So, I guess Dozer's finally forcing Davis to chose," Brendan finished. "If I was her, I'd go for Twister, but there's no way she'd listen to me on the subject," he sighed. "Especially since I wasn't down on New Caprica. Apparently, that's got frak all to do with everything," Brendan sighed. "But it seems like it was two different worlds."
"It was," Felix said, but without the rancor that Brendan had heard from others.
"Did you ever think about building a house or anything down there?" Brendan asked. "Or were you going to stay in that apartment complex?"
"I don't know," Felix admitted, brow furrowed. "I don’t think I ever worked it out. Maybe at one point I thought I'd get an apartment, but then the building process took so long…" he shook his head. "I got so resentful about the whole thing and so much changed, it's hard to remember what I originally planned."
"Either way, better than that tent you were living in, I guess."
"That's right," Felix remembered. "You were there. I'd forgotten that."
Definitely hadn't read the note then. Brendan snorted. "Wonder what I would have done if everything had panned out and we'd gotten decommissioned," he heard himself musing. "Maybe built a house."
"Yeah?" Gaeta looked vaguely interested. "Have a family and all?"
"If I could find a girl that would have me."
Gaeta looked almost sympathetic. "If Kat had lived-"
Brendan cut him off. "Nah," he said, waving his hand. "It wasn't like that with me and Kat. Kind of wish it could have been, but it wasn't. Racetrack's more my type."
"Racetrack?" Felix perked up.
Why the frak had he said that? Margaret was hot as hell, but Brendan didn't have any serious interest in her. But Felix looked interested, more than he had the rest of the meal, so Brendan smiled. Wasn't like Gaeta was into him, anyway.
"Yeah, Racetrack. Margaret," he said. "Kat was awesome, and she was something else… but she was too serious. Too high pressure. Gods, you should have seen her when she made CAG. She got a rash three days into it that Ishay said was from nerves. Any girl that serious about her work isn't going to be interested in someone like me."
"You never know," Felix said with more politeness than conviction.
"Yeah, but Racetrack's not like that," Brendan said. "Anyway, I never really thought about it. The future on New Caprica, I mean. The whole concept of babies just scared the shit out of me."
"Same here." Felix smiled- a real smile- and the awkwardness began to smooth out. They moved to safer subjects, and Brendan told Felix about living on Galactica during the occupation, and the constant arguments between the CIC and the pilots. Felix seemed to enjoy hearing it, and Brendan sighed at the end.
"Without you and Dualla, the CIC didn't seem to know its ass from its elbow," he admitted. "One great thing about the Exodus was the two of you were running it again."
"The Colonel and the Admiral run it," Felix lied, but he was flushed with pleasure.
"That's bullshit, and you know it," Brendan said. He had no idea how badly that comment was going to come back to bite him in the ass.
***
"That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard," Brendan said. When he'd walked in, Felix was getting dressed. Not in the sweats and tanks that were appropriate for physical therapy, but in his duty blues. Felix was struggling, but for once, Brendan didn't move to help him. He'd be frakked if he was going to help him in this lunacy. "Seriously, it’s a really bad idea. You can’t go back to work yet. It’s barely been ten days. Don’t think I don’t notice how much you’re in pain just because I don’t point it out."
Felix was pretending not to be bothered. "It will only be light duty for now. Half shifts first, full shifts when I’m in better shape. I’ll work out more. It’s all been cleared with Cottle."
"Yeah, because Adama ordered him to do it," Brendan said in exasperation. "Except Adama doesn’t care shit about what’s best for you! Look at you, you need to be in bed!"
"Admiral Adama says he needs me," Felix answered stoically.
Brendan wanted to strangle him. "Screw Adama! You lost a frakking leg! Can’t you think of yourself? You can’t even walk up to the CIC on your own yet, Gaeta. You aren’t eating in the mess. You haven’t gone back to your life at all, you’re not even playing cards again. You should be back to playing cards, at least, before you start working. I keep telling you we’re a man short without you."
"Ask Athena then."
"That's not the point!"
"Then what is the point?" Felix asked, his eyes cold and his voice icy. "Cottle's the medical expert, not you. And he cleared me. And I'm going back to work, rather than just sitting here being a lump of flesh doing nothing!"
Brendan closed his eyes. "Fine," he snarled, "but if you kill yourself, don't come crying to me. Have a good shift, Felix."
He slammed the hatch behind him.
***
Of course, he couldn't stay mad at Felix forever. The thing was, he understood. He remembered the days of New Caprica, when there wasn't that much for the pilots- or anyone in the military- to do. Brendan wasn't complaining, of course, because he'd take the inactivity of New Caprica over being on the ground for the occupation any day of the week. But he got why Felix wanted to go back to work.
So the next day, he was back, in time for dinner as usual, tray in hand. When he entered, Felix looked tired and gray, but met Brendan's eyes with a defiant look that dared him to make an issue out of it. Brendan set the tray down.
"So, you probably heard about this, being on duty and everything, but Starbuck is really riding Twofer's
back again. This time she's convinced he showed up for duty drunk."
"Did he?" Felix asked, almost automatically.
Brendan launched into the retelling, adding as much color and detail as he could. As he talked, he felt both himself and Felix relaxing back into their rhythms again, smoothing out. He still thought it was the worst idea he'd ever heard, but apparently no one was going to listen to him, so it was better just to shut up and do what he could.
***
"So," Racetrack said as she and Brendan walked towards the rec room companionably, "how's it going with Gaeta?"
"What do you mean?" Brendan asked warily.
"You getting into his pants yet?" She looped her arm through Brendan's.
He sighed. "I've given up on that for a bit."
"Really?" Racetrack looked at him from the side of her eyes. "I'm surprised."
"Not given up," Brendan amended. "Put it on hold. It's gonna take a while."
"That's what I figured." Racetrack sighed. "Do we really have to go to this thing?"
Brendan blinked in confusion. "Why wouldn't you want to?" he asked. "Booze, music, and cards. What could be better?"
"Not having Starbuck making CAG again?" Racetrack sighed.
"That's right. I always forget." Racetrack and Starbuck were okay with each other, as long as they didn't have to deal too closely with each other. "Just think about the booze."
"Booze is a compelling reason," Racetrack admitted. Brendan couldn't help noticing that her arm was still through hers, and he was kind of pleased about that. "Mind if I stick with you tonight?"
"Won't complain," Brendan said, and her hand tightened on his arm.
To be honest, it was kind of nice just to go to a party. For one, celebrating anything these days just didn't happen much. Brendan liked the change. But it was also nice to just relax, to stop worrying, to stop thinking and analyzing for a bit.
It wasn't that he didn't like being with Felix- that was the furthest thing from it. But it was nice to kick back, play cards, and just have a good time. It was easy to laugh, easy to drink far too much, and when Racetrack suggested that they disappear back to the empty racks, it was very, very easy to say yes.
***
Someone was pounding on the hull of Galactica, Brendan was sure of it. Probably little green aliens with huge sledge hammers. He groaned, sitting up and rubbing his face with his hands.
Someone was also throwing up. After a few minutes' consideration, Brendan was pretty sure it wasn't him.
He slid out of the rack, and yelped as hit the floor a lot sooner than he expected.
"Most people just stand up," Skulls observed, laughing.
"I can't," Brendan said. "I'm on the top."
"Not this morning," Skulls pointed out, with a huge smirk. He pointed, and Brendan glanced back. That was right, Racetrack. Who wasn't in the rack at the moment.
The vomiting stopped, and Skulls turned. "You okay?" he shouted.
"Frak you, asshole," Racetrack answered.
"Grumpy. We've got detail in twenty."
"I already said frak you," Racetrack complained.
"So you did." Skulls nodded to Brendan. "See you later."
"Racetrack?" Brendan asked, the memories starting to come back together. "Did we sleep together last night?"
"Yes," Racetrack groaned. She came over, wiping her face with a wet towel. Her hair was all messy and tangled, but Brendan thought that if his head wasn't killing him, it would look pretty hot.
"I thought so," he said, and then considered again. "Was it good?"
"Yeah, we did okay." Racetrack stretched. "Frak. I've got to get moving."
"Yeah. Me, too." Brendan was starting to realize he had other parts of anatomy, like a bladder, and that oh yeah- he was naked. But the former problem was far more pressing than the latter. He grabbed a towel and staggered towards the head.
He'd slept with Margaret. Well, huh. How about that.
***
"So, Racetrack, how was he?" Starbuck asked over the wireless, as the refueling mission progressed.
"I'd give him an eight," Racetrack said.
"Eight out of ten, or eight inches?" Narcho asked.
Brendan was glad he was alone in the Viper, because he was sure his cheeks were flaming. "I'm coming at seven six one," he said. "You got that?"
"Sounds like you were coming in something else," Skulls said.
"Some one," Racetrack countered, and the thwack she gave him was audible.
"Come on, guys, let's keep a little focus," Starbuck said, and Brendan was ready to kiss her until she said, "An eight, huh? That's high for you. Have we been underestimating Hot Dog or overestimating your taste?"
"Seriously, guys," Brendan said through clenched teeth. "I've got the cruiser in my sights. Approaching from starboard."
"You still never answered the question," Narcho was saying. "Scale or inches?"
"A lady doesn't tell," Racetrack said primly, prompting a most unladylike snort of uncontrolled laughter from Starbuck.
"Mag locks out," Brendan sighed. "Is anyone listening to this?"
"I hear you, Hot Dog," Hoshi finally chimed in. "Cruiser is giving you the green."
"Thank you," Hot Dog said, rolling his eyes and flipping his controls, ready to perform the maneuver. "At least someone's working."
"Sounds like you were working it pretty hard last night," Hoshi practically chirruped. "Okay, I've got you coming in in five, four, three…"
"I hate you all," Brendan growled, and then focused on his job.
***
In an ideal world, Brendan supposed he'd have time to sort out his head. But this world was about as far from ideal as he could get, and before he could figure out which was way up with Racetrack, the Fleet found Earth.
Brendan didn't really know what to expect from Earth, but he thought he was prepared from anything, from finding it uninhabited to being met with hostile forces. But nothing… absolutely nothing in his life had prepared him for what he saw when he broke atmo for a sneak peak and saw the gray desolation that was Earth.
***
The Galactica was a place he'd never known; angry, violent, uncaring. Brendan wandered through it, vaguely aware of the chaos around him. In his own grief and anger, there was only one place he could think of to go.
He knew the code to Felix's quarters, but he never used it without knocking. Today, though, he just punched it in and let himself into the silent room, sinking into a chair. He could wait. After all, there was nothing else to wait for.
The hatch opened, and he heard Felix's labored breathing and his crutches. For the first time since he'd seen Earth, Brendan felt like he could breathe.
"You know,” he said quietly, before Felix could speak, "I just thought we’d have a home again. I mean, I always thought people were a bit naïve about Earth. What did they think? That people were just waiting for us to show up? They might have forgotten us. We almost forgot them, too. I thought it would be all politics and that stuff, a couple of face-offs maybe but I thought it would be home."
Home. He closed his eyes, and for a moment he was back in their house on Libran, and he could feel the breeze coming in through the window and smell the rain-washed dirt, pungent with the scent of horses. He wondered if that was Elysium would be like for him, being home with them.
"I grew up on a farm,” he continued after a moment. "My sisters, mum and I. We had horses. Mum was a vet. I was in a desk job at a place that built silos. Rural area but wealthy, you know? Sure I like flying but I thought if they didn’t need pilots anymore, I could just go back to living on a farm. Everybody has animals and silos. I could teach kids how to ride or something, if they had horses on Earth."
"Where were you heading when the Cylons hit?" Felix asked.
"Vacating on Cloud Nine." Brendan laughed, even though he didn't feel like it. "Won a sweepstake at a fair. First time I left Libran since I dropped out of flight school."
For a long moment, Felix watched him silently, and then he moved over to the locker. Brendan watched him with confusion until Felix pulled out a bottle of ambrosia. "I don’t think you should mix ambrosia with pain meds," he said as Felix managed to pour some into a glass.
"I shouldn’t," Felix agreed. "Drink it alone." He sat down at the table that Brendan had had to argue with the quartermaster to get for Felix a few days ago, and Brendan picked up the glass.
The ambrosia burned his throat, and he knew he was already dehydrated from his shift. But he drank it thirstily. Brendan wasn't much on using alcohol to escape things, but he figured this one time he could be excused. When he put his glass down, Felix silently refilled it.
Why was he here? Brendan wondered. So often, it was him supporting Felix, helping. Most times he didn't think about that- Felix had enough of his own problems to worry about with the leg being gone and all. But right now, he was the one looking for something- anything- to make this feeling go away.
"I lied," he found himself telling Felix.
Felix started at that. "Pardon?"
"I lied when I came for a visit while you were in sickbay," Brendan admitted.
"The Libran custom did sound a bit cheesy."
Brendan waved that off. "Well, it really exists. But I’m talking about the frak list. I didn’t really think it would cheer you up. I’m not that dumb. I just thought there’s really nobody on Galactica who knows how to deal with amputees, so I’d just sneak in a couple of practical pointers to show you a way for how to tackle all the issues."
"Not seeing the lie yet," Felix said.
Brendan grimaced. "All right," he said, "here’s the deal. My sister was an amputee. She lost her leg in a car crash when she was fifteen. I was twenty and we were pretty close, she always came to me to cry. I knew it would be hard for you. I just -" He shrugged. " I figured you wouldn’t want a speech from some stranger. I thought I’d just check in on you and give you a hint." Which was all still something of a lie, but right now, Brendan just didn't care.
Felix blinked. "By giving me a sex list."
"Well, I’d be worried about that if I were you."
"Do you have any idea how inappropriate and tasteless that list was?"
"Never said I was much of a writer." And obviously, you never actually read it.
"Well," Felix said after a moment. "Do I want to know why you talked about frakking with your fifteen-year-old sister?"
Brendan's chest loosened a little more. He began to tell Felix about Allison, eventually about Carrie, too. Aside from his one outburst at Racetrack and a couple of conversations with Kat, it was the first time he'd really talked about them since the attacks. He couldn't say much about his mother, though… that still hurt too badly. But Felix understood, and he reciprocated, telling Brendan about his own family, sharing his losses as well.
They talked until the ambrosia was almost gone, and Brendan almost forgot the sight of Earth below him, gray and destroyed and dead. He thought maybe he could sleep now, and stood up. The room lurched.
"You’re too drunk to walk through the ship on your own," he heard Felix saying. "You’re even more unsteady on your feet than me. Stay here.
"Thanks," Brendan muttered. Somehow, he made it to the head and then into the rack, and that was the last thing that he remembered.
***
He woke up early, like he usually did when he was hung over, and the little green aliens were banging on Galactica's hull again. But this time he was dressed, and he was lying beside Felix, who was also clothed. And there was none of the panic, none of the where am I and what the hell did I do last night? feeling he'd had with Racetrack. Just a feeling of belonging here, and not wanting to move.
Like just about everyone he knew, Felix looked younger asleep. But the lines of pain still lingered on his face, and Brendan knew he wasn't sleeping deeply. A fact that was confirmed as Felix slowly opened his eyes. Brendan jerked away. The last thing he needed to do right now was push things too far way too fast, or to scare Felix.
And it was the right thing to do. As Felix woke up, he smiled at him, and Brendan smiled back.
***
Two weeks later, he found the pills by accident.
He'd taken a break from the Triad game he and Felix had been playing to hit the head, and when he was in there, he couldn't resist the impulse to look in the drawers. Not that he was looking for anything… it was just a compulsion he suspected people felt everywhere. He'd frozen when he'd found the stash of painkillers in the drawer, staring at them for a long time. Felix kept his medicines in bottles near his beds. Brendan had no doubt as to what this was for.
He scooped the pills up and promptly dumped them into the toilet, flushing it as angrily as he could. If he could have thrown them out a window and into space, he would have.
He washed his hands and sat down on the floor, breathing deep for a long moment. He'd have to find Felix's service pistol, too. He should have seen this coming- Cottle should have seen this coming. But then, that was why Cottle gave Felix so few pills at a time to begin with.
Brendan rubbed his forehead, and then stood back up. He was pretty sure that Felix wouldn't take kindly to some sort of dramatic intervention, but there was always a chance he'd talk. He took a deep breath and left the head.
“How’s it going with readjustment?” he asked casually while picking up the Triad deck to return it to Helo.
“Fine,” Felix said. “It’s going just fine.”
“I see,” Brendan said. Why won't you just admit how had it is for you? he wanted to shout, but it wouldn't help, and he knew that. He'd yelled that at Allison, and she'd shut him out. Not for long, but then Allison was his sister, and she wasn't Felix. He had to tread lightly, no matter what his feelings were.
"Hey, did I tell you that Helo and Figurski said they caught Tattoo sneaking out of one of the lockers with Strohm? Not that I blame him, she's pretty hot, but ever since Earth, these random things have been getting out of control. Of course, I guess I can't condemn random, meaningless sex, but…" he shrugged, not really listening to himself and wondering instead if he was ever going to be allowed inside Felix's head.
It was beginning to feel like he wasn't. As he left, he punched the wall in fury and frustration.
***
He got drunk that night, with Narcho and Hoshi and Racetrack. For a minute, he considered telling Narcho and Hoshi he was ready for that threesome now, but neither of them was meeting his eye. Racetrack was, though, and Brendan was perfectly happy to go to bed with her.
Good enough, anyway.
***
This time, Brendan was up before Racetrack, and his hangover wasn't nearly so bad. She was still curled up, her hand under her cheek as she slept, her dark hair tangled over her bare shoulders. He turned away, stood up out of her rack, and found his clothes. He managed to get out of the room without her waking up, and headed for the showers.
The uneasy feeling he'd had after the first time had only intensified. Brendan scrubbed his hair and did his best not to think about it. That worked until he got out of the shower and found Racetrack just about to get in.
"Hey Hot Dog," she said, like they hadn't just spent the night together. "You got CAP?"
"Yeah," he said awkwardly. Racetrack was naked. It was a really nice sight, but he looked away anyway. "What about you?"
"Shuttle duty this shift," she said. "Hey, listen, this isn't going to get weird with us, is it? It's all fun, right?"
"Right," Brendan said, and he could at least look at her now. "All fun."
"Great," Racetrack said, grinning. "Because you're a great guy, Hot Dog, but I am really not looking to get tied down."
"The thought of babies makes me break out in hives," Brendan said truthfully, and Racetrack laughed.
"Great. See you later." With a final smile, Racetrack stepped into the shower.
Brendan wasn't really shocked- Margaret had always been the upfront type, and she had her fun. He'd have been more surprised (and much more horrified) if she'd done the weeping lover act. Even so, he felt like he should be feeling relieved that Racetrack just wanted a few fraks here and there. And he was relieved.
It just still didn't sit right, that was all.
***
"So how are things going with Racetrack?" Narcho asked when he caught Brendan trying to nap in the pilots' racks.
"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Brendan groaned, not sitting up and throwing an arm over his eyes. "Can't anyone mind their own business?"
"Well, in this case, you can't blame me for asking," Narcho said. "It's not like I don't know about your thing for Gaeta."
"So?" Brendan snapped. "It's not like anything is happening with Gaeta, or like Racetrack thinks I'm madly in love with her. She flat out told me that all she wanted was a little fun."
Narcho snorted. "Not Racetrack I was thinking about. Maggie's a big girl- she takes care of herself just fine."
"You're worried about me?" Brendan asked incredulously.
"Nope. Not worried," Narcho clarified. "Frankly, I haven't had much time to think about anything."
"Yeah? How's it going with you and Hoshi?" It was meant to be a barb, but something in Narcho's face changed. It caught Brendan's eye, and he sat up, taking the conversation more seriously. "What is it? Is something wrong?"
"Not wrong," Narcho said hesitantly. He sat down at the table. "We're talking about getting married."
"Finally," Brendan muttered. "How long have you two been together? Three years now?"
"Something like that."
"So what's the problem?"
"That's what I say. But Louis…" Narcho shrugged. "You'd think a guy up to his eyeballs in religion wouldn't have such a commitment problem."
"I would have thought it would have been you," Brendan said waspishly.
"Yeah, that's what everyone thinks. But really, how hard is it? You meet someone, you build this relationship, and you just can't imagine your life without them. Well, not these days," Narcho amended hastily. "These days it's a little too easy to do that. How about, you don't want to imagine life without them? "
"So what's Hoshi's problem? Afraid something better will come along?" Brendan asked, although that didn't sound at all like Hoshi.
"Nah. Some crap about how once he made a commitment to the gods to be a chaplain and he couldn’t keep to that, and now he's afraid to make a commitment to me. Guess he'll come around one of these days, but frak- isn't it hard to love a man whose head is so far up his own ass he can see his tonsils?"
It took a long moment before Brendan realized that that was a question, and Narcho was actually expecting Brendan to agree with him.
"Yeah," he finally said. "Guess so."
***
Brendan didn't realize he was avoiding Racetrack until she caught him headed for his Viper for a drill a week and a half later.
"We have to talk," she informed him, backing him against a wall.
"I've got a drill-" Brendan began.
"This won't take long. I don't care that we're not all lovey-dovey schmoopy like some of the other idiots running around," Racetrack said, her eyes flashing. "In fact, I'm glad we're not. What I wanted from you was a good frak and a little fun. But I'm not going to be treated like I don't exist afterwards, asshole. You got that?"
"It's not like that," Brendan began.
"Sure as hell is," Racetrack insisted. "Frak, Brendan, I know you're in love with Gaeta. We all know it- well, me and Athena and Hoshi and Narcho, at any rate. And that's fine, I don't begrudge Gaeta that. I just thought we'd have a little fun while you were waiting for him to come around, because damn it, we all know you've got a long wait in front of you. But this shit you're giving me? This isn't fun."
"Margaret…." He felt lousy. Finally, he sighed. "I'm sorry."
Her face softened some. "You should be. It was fun, but whatever this is, let's end it now before anyone gets hurt. Got it?"
"Got it."
She smiled. It was a real smile- she wasn't hiding anything. Brendan knew Margaret's tells, and they weren't showing. She patted his cheek- not overly lightly- kissed the other cheek, and then headed off, whistling.
Brendan watched her go, and he finally felt that relief that eluded him.
***
In love. Racetrack had said it, Narcho had said it… even Hoshi had sure as hell implied it. The three of them all thought that Brendan was in love with Felix.
Was he?
Brendan wasn't sure, and eventually decided it didn't matter right now. Sure, he wanted Felix, more than he'd ever wanted anyone before this. And yeah, he'd like so much more. But he had Felix in his life, and he was in Felix's, and when it all came down to it, Brendan was content for that to be enough. Even if he was in love with Felix, there was nothing he could do about it. Not with the place Felix was in.
The pills hadn't reappeared, and neither had the gun. As best as Brendan could tell, Felix had taken a step back from the edge. But that didn't mean a damn thing, except that he wasn't constantly opening Felix's hatch dreading finding Felix dead on the floor. But he still worried it would happen.
***
He was leaving the ready room and heading for his Viper when Dualla intercepted him. She looked a lot less composed than usual, and a relieved expression crossed her face when she saw him.
"What's wrong?" Brendan asked, trying to drive away the pictures he'd been keeping out of his mind.
"It's Felix," Dualla said. "I found him crying in the head- he wouldn't stop. I know you and he have been close so I thought…." Brendan was moving before she could finish.
"Hot Dog!" Starbuck yelled at his back. "Where the frak do you think you're going?"
He'd draw extra shifts for this, but Brendan didn't care. He followed Dualla until she opened the hatch, and saw exactly what she was talking about. Felix was sitting on the floor against the wall, sobbing like his heart was broken. Or more accurately, like he'd finally realized it was broken and couldn't take it anymore. Brendan dropped his flight helmet and knelt down, wrapping his arms around Felix. Felix leaned into him, still lost in his misery.
“Should I call Dr. Cottle?” Dee asked.
“Nah, I’m taking care of it.”
Dee nodded with a small, almost scared smile and ducked out. Brendan had a feeling she was just outside, giving them a little bit of privacy for Felix to calm down.
Dee might be worried, but Brendan wasn't. On the contrary, he found himself smiling, his cheek against Felix's hair. Not that he wanted to see Felix like this, but this… finally. This horrible, shaking grief was much better than the dead, locked depression that Felix had been caught in.
Somehow, Brendan managed to get Felix back to his quarters and settled on his rack. It was much more comfortable in here, both with the privacy and the mattress. They sat there for a long time, Brendan's arms wrapped tight around Felix, and Felix's head against Brendan's chest. Felix tried to apologize, but Brendan shushed him.
They fell asleep there, wrapped up together in Felix's grief.
On to Part 3