BSG Fic : Crash (6/9)
Title : Crash
Author : Helen C.
Rating : R
Summary : Galactica, Apollo, I've been hit. Repeat, I've been hit. (Set in S2, somewhere between Final Cut and Flight of the Phoenix).
Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Ronald D. Moore and Universal Television Studios to name but a few. No money is being made. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AN. Many thanks to elzed, siljamus and joey51 for beta'ing this, and to the countless people on LiveJournal who held my hand while I whined and whined and whined about this fic.
AN2. Pure, unadulterated H/C. (If you don't like it, lie to me. And if you feel the need to offer con. crit., thanks, but not on this one, please...)
Chapter 6
Kara hated woods. Nothing but trees to block out her view and the damn, cold wind that was still numbing her face and making her eyes water despite the fact that she'd had hours to adjust.
"Doesn't feel like home at all," she mumbled as she narrowly avoided tripping over a root. Frak. The last thing she needed was a sprained ankle. Focus, she admonished herself.
"I hear you," Helo said, from a few feet behind her. He had paused and was looking around. "This is just…"
"Yeah," Kara replied distractedly, but she wasn't paying attention to him. They couldn't afford any distraction. In three hours, night would fall and the Fleet would leave. She had argued long and hard with the old man but he had refused to allow her to stay behind with a Raptor. The Fleet needed her, he'd said. They couldn't lose another pilot.
The way his face had looked had stopped her from pushing even more, because as hard as it was for her, it had to be killing him. He was as composed as ever but it was obvious to her that he was slowly losing hope, and that if he had to call off the search, he'd probably lose the last reason he still had to live.
Hell, even Tigh was looking at him worriedly, and if the old bastard had noticed something was off, then the Commander really wasn't doing well.
Apollo's not dead yet. We're going to find him and I'll kick his ass for making me run all around this frakking rock to save his hide. She was going to make him pay for it in teasing and innuendo and slights to his abilities as a pilot, and he would laugh and shrug it off and all would be back to normal.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted one of the marines; they had spread out, partly to make it more difficult to bring them all down at once, partly so they could cover more ground, more quickly.
Right. Still need to hurry.
"I'm so kicking his ass," she grumbled anyway. She caught Helo's bemused look but didn't explain herself. Instead, she checked, for the thirtieth time in the last hour, that her sidearm was secured to her leg and within easy reach, then picked up her pace. There were four teams on the ground, searching in a circle pattern around the crashed Viper. It was the only starting point they had, and she tried not to think too hard about the fact that if-since-Apollo had ejected, there was a good chance the wind had dragged him far from the downed ship. Even if that wasn't the case, Apollo had a three days head start on them.
Easy as looking for a needle in a haystack.
It would take nothing short of a miracle to find him in time.
Artemis, hear my prayer.
Helo spoke up again, interrupting her. "Do you really think we'll leave if we can't-"
"I'm surprised we've been allowed to spend this long here," she retorted before he could finish. If it had been anyone but the old man's son, we'd be long gone already. And everyone knows it but no one will say anything, because no one wants to tell the man that he should have left his one remaining son behind hours ago, that he shouldn't have come back for him at all.
And Lee will know too, and he'll hate it.
If we find him.
When we find him.
She heard a call in the distance and her comm. came to life. "Lieutenant. We've found something."
Not Apollo, she realized when the Marine didn't elaborate. Nothing dangerous either, probably. The Marine-Private Sykes, if she placed his voice correctly-would have said something if they needed to take cover. He rattled off his position and she took off, Helo following close behind.
She froze when they reached the Private and her eyes fell on the corpse, aware that Helo was doing the same thing at her side.
"That's-" he started.
"A Leoben model," she completed.
"That's the second time you've cut me off," he pointed out in a distracted voice.
"Deal with it." She approached the corpse, her mind cataloging the dried blood spread in a halo around his head (how fitting, she thought) and the beatific expression on his face. She could picture him alive, spouting prophecies and half-truths, making himself into a philosopher, a prophet. She felt like throwing up.
"Do you think Apollo did this?"
She knelt next to the body. The wound seemed to fit with the kind of damage a colonial sidearm would do.
You're still alive, you bastard, she thought, feeling a smile forming on her lips. It must have been pretty cold, if she could judge by the way Helo looked at her. "Starbuck?"
"Well, I doubt one of his fellow toasters would have done this," she replied, gesturing at the body. Though I wonder why they didn't pick him up. Too busy following Apollo? Or do they just not care about bodies?
It was Private Sykes who broke the silence next. "So, in which direction did he take off?"
"Straight ahead?" she offered as she got to her feet. She unclasped her sidearm just in case and ordered Sykes to recall all the teams and tell them to start searching using Leoben's corpse as a starting position.
Then, she headed off, the adrenaline from the hunt burning satisfyingly in her veins.
*
Bill let go of the receiver and met Saul's gaze. "What did she say?" his friend asked.
"The same thing she's been saying for hours," Bill replied. "We've waited too long already, and she's very sorry."
He was glad he had chosen to take the call in his quarters instead of the CIC. He didn't need the rest of the crew to witness this discussion.
Saul snorted. "Goes to show how grateful she is after everything he did for her." His XO's voice was bitter but Bill couldn't blame him; he had never seen eye to eye with Lee and their relationship had gotten even worse since Lee had been forced to take over the CAG's duties.
The mutiny had put the last nail in that coffin; they'd work together because they had to, but that was it. As long as it didn't interfere with their duties, Bill could only watch as they exchanged barbs and thinly veiled insults. Thankfully, they were both professional enough to keep it mostly out of sight of the rest of the crew-though Lee couldn't have chosen a more public setting to take a stand when he put a gun to Saul's head.
He was still disappointed with that, he realized. Funny; his son was lost on a planet, they were going to have to leave him behind, and yet here he was, dwelling on past mistakes.
This wasn't like him.
He didn't think about the past, didn't agonize over mistakes that couldn't be repaired, didn't lose energy rehashing past hurts. He couldn't afford to-except when it came to Lee, apparently. A lot of his usual behavior patterns changed when his son was concerned, sometimes for the best, sometimes for the worst.
If it had been anyone but Lee, we would have left hours ago, he thought.
"Politicians," Saul added, in a tone that conveyed all the contempt in which he held them.
"She has to consider the whole Fleet," Bill pointed out. He had repeated it to himself so often in the last hours that it came out flat and rehashed-like a pre-recorded voice on an answering machine.
Hell, maybe if he told himself that another few thousand times, it might make it less bitter to swallow.
"Right, of course she does." Saul shook his head but got to his feet, case closed. Bill noticed that while he hadn't actively pushed Bill to jump sooner, he also hadn't tried to argue the case with the President. That was the second time he actually agreed with a woman he still referred to as a teacher. Bill wondered what he'd say if he pointed it out to him, but his heart wasn't in it.
We really are going to leave him behind.
"Well, the rescue teams still have a few hours," Saul offered as he headed to the hatch. In the dim light of the quarters, it was difficult to make out the expression on his face. Was he satisfied at the outcome? Did Saul even believe that there was a chance the teams on the ground would find Lee before it was too late?
"Yes."
All he could do was wait. That was the aspect of command he'd had the most trouble with when he had been given his first battlestar. Giving orders came naturally to him, but waiting until others carried them out was more difficult. He had always been more of a doer than a thinker, had always been quick to make up his mind and implement his decisions. Something Lee couldn't seem to achieve. His son had grown into his role as CAG and was already one hell of an officer, but he also tended to think too much before making decisions. With command came big decisions to make-decisions that affected thousands of people.
And the decisions I made in the past three days put their lives at risk. Bill had allowed his personal feelings to stand in the way of the safety of the fleet. That was part of why his crew was so loyal to him; they knew he would do anything for them.
But there had been cases when he had needed to make hard calls-admitting that the war was lost, leaving Kara behind, forgiving the President. He had been able to let go, sacrifice some of his men to save as many people he could.
It hadn't torn him up as this did, though.
But I'll do it, he thought, horrified to realize that he meant it. I'll leave him if I have to.
He would never forgive himself, but he would do it. The part of Lee that was a soldier, an officer, would understand why his commander had left him behind. But the part of Lee that was his son probably wouldn't, and that, more than anything, weighed down on Bill.
If he hadn't been an atheist, Bill would have prayed. But he didn't believe in the gods any more than Lee did-Lee, because he prided himself on his pragmatism, Bill because he didn't like the thought of higher beings influencing his fate. That was one thing they shared; same atheism, same blood, same love of flying and of course, same stubbornness.
At times, it was infuriating, but today, Bill was glad to know that Lee had a stubborn streak a mile wide; it would help him survive, and hopefully bring him back home.
"Wilco, Galactica, but I tell you what; it's got to be her. This thing is flying with some serious attitude."
He smiled at the memory. Kara had pulled off a miracle that day. And Lee had pulled off one his own when he had saved Colonial One and part of the civilian Fleet, the day of the attacks.
He didn't believe in the gods but he could have faith in the men under his command, in Kara and Lee, trust them to accomplish another miracle and bring his son back to him.
*
Over the last few days, Kara hadn't wasted time trying to picture what finding Lee would be like.
Had she had time to spare, maybe she would have imagined herself finding Lee and saying something to provoke him, and him replying in kind, and the two of them making their way to the Raptor bickering like they were still twenty-year-old cadets learning how to fly instead of the officers they had become.
Maybe, in one of her most pessimistic moments, she would have pictured finding him unconscious somewhere, and they would have brought him back to the Galactica and Cottle would have done his thing-for all his acerbic manners and his bluntness, the guy was good-and Lee would have been fine.
Never, however, would she have imagined finding herself facing a gun being trained on her face by Lee, no hint of recognition on his face, as if he wasn't even seeing her.
"Hey, Apollo," she called, distantly noting that the three marines who had followed her were moving to circle him. Helo was standing at Kara's side, his gun aimed at Lee. Kara lowered her own, put a smile on her face and hoped that she'd manage to keep him distracted long enough for one of the marines to make his move.
Private Sykes took a step and a twig snapped under his feet. He froze mid-movement, his eyes widening slightly, then stared at Lee's back.
Kara spotted the way Lee minutely turned his head to the sound, before frowning and leveling his gaze on her again. He was holding his gun with a white-knuckle grip, and he was covered with dried blood and dirt.
The marines started moving again, slowly, quietly. Under normal circumstances, she would have said it was useless-Lee was good ; he was bound to recognize the tactic.
Circumstances, however, were far from normal. Lee didn't look like he was going to stay on his feet much longer anyway, and even if that wasn't the case, he was in no shape to take on three marines, Helo and herself.
"Captain?" Helo tried, from his spot next to her. He hadn't lowered his gun; she wondered what Lee would make of that, but he didn't acknowledge him, merely kept staring at Kara. "Captain Adama!" Helo insisted. Kara wanted to snap at him, "Don't you see he's not hearing you?" but she restrained herself.
The gun Lee was pointing at her wavered and she saw his eyes clouding over.
That's it, she thought. Pass out already so we can get you out of here, because you sure as hell look like you could use some quality time in sickbay.
Of course, being the good little stubborn soldier he was, he didn't collapse. If nothing else, his grip on the gun got even firmer and when he focused on her again, his eyes were holding a resolve that chilled her to the bone.
"You won't take me alive this time," he said, the words obviously taking a lot of effort.
This time? she wondered as he pulled the safety back.
Frak it all to damn frakking hell and back.
The day just kept getting better and better.
"Lee?" She tried for a detached, friendly tone. Come on, get a grip, Lee. You know me. We're friends, remember? "How about we blow this stand and go home? Wouldn't you like to go home?" Where it's warm and dry and you can clean all that blood off yourself.
Kara noted that the marines were all in position, waiting for her signal.
Right. She'd give the easy way another try but if it failed, they'd just have to try this the hard way. The longer they stayed here, the more chances they had of being spotted by the Cylons. Come on, Lee. Don't do this to yourself. Be a good boy. "Lee, it's me." She wondered if her voice was shaking. She wondered if the men on the team could hear it, then decided that she didn't care. "What do you say we get you off this rock and into a nice, warm bed in sickbay?"
He kept staring at her, but the blank expression had been replaced by a frown. Maybe she was starting to get through to him. Or maybe his brain had been scrambled in the crash, or maybe the Cylons had captured him and played with him for a while, or maybe-
She stopped, annoyed with herself-she'd learn what happened soon enough-and focused on her friend again. "Lee? Now would be a good time to start talking." She tried to smile again, then gave it up. "You're starting to freak me out and I'd hate to have to kick your sorry ass for it."
"You don't sound like Leoben." His voice was hoarse and she imagined how much it must scratch at his throat to talk-and this only to say things that made no sense.
"That's because I'm not," she replied.
She saw him shiver as a gust of wind washed over them. He was still somewhat aware of the outside world, then. Good.
"Starbuck," Helo whispered.
"What?" She managed to snap at him without raising her voice, a talent she had perfected at flight school, where she usually used it to make cutting remarks at other cadets whenever an instructor was in range. An ability that had turned out to be useful in plenty of social situations, such as finding her best friend totally out of it and more than a little scary on a foreign planet, light-years away from home.
"Try something else."
She glanced at him and noticed that his hands were starting to turn blue. Right. The cold. She had stopped feeling it when they'd found Lee, but that didn't mean her teammates weren't still affected.
"Why don't you sound like Leoben?" Lee mumbled, and Kara sighed. Helo was right. It was time to wrap this up and get Lee to the nearest medical facility, where hopefully, Cottle could make some sense out of it all.
Sorry, she thought. But you brought it on yourself.
She gave a quiet nod to the marines, still waiting for her order behind Lee. One of them-she knew his name, she was sure she knew his name, and it was going to come back to her in a second. Wensler. Or Wenzler. Or Wendler. Damn.-started to move forward behind Lee's back, approaching without a sound. Later, she'd take a moment to marvel at the fact that such a large man could move so smoothly, so silently.
Lee shook his head absently, the movement eliciting a small grimace. How was he still standing, a part of Kara wondered, marveling at the fact. How was he still talking, and how was his aim still so steady when she could see that he could barely stay on his feet?
"I thought…" He frowned at her. He looked vulnerable, all of a sudden, all traces of his earlier hardness gone. "You were there."
"I was on the planet before, yes," she said. "But-"
"You were there," he repeated, his voice firmer this time. For reasons she couldn't even begin to guess, his eyes grew distant again. "You were there." He had gone from pale to almost gray.
"Lee?" she called. Wenzler-she was pretty sure that was his name-had stopped moving. Good call, she thought. Let's try to bring the lunatic back with us peacefully and not do more damage than has already been done. "Did you see me?"
He laughed, a sound that made the hair on her arms stand on end-harsh and bitter and cold, so unlike Lee that for a moment, she was sure that the Cylons had killed him and replaced him with a copy-a copy that lacked all that had made Lee, Lee.
A look at Helo confirmed that he was as disturbed as she was.
She met Lee's eyes. "We need to go," she said. "Last chance to make it out on your own, Apollo."
She saw the moment when he decided to shoot; something flickered in his eyes, fear and resolve and something she couldn't quite put her finger on.
"Lee!" she yelled.
Ohgodsohgodsohgods, he's going to get himself killed.
Wenzler-she'd need to check that that was indeed his name and then offer him a drink, or a stogie, something for being so damn good at what he did-tackled Lee to the ground just as he fired. The shot sounded, awfully loud in the silent woods.
Great, now all the Cylons in a one-kilometer radius will know to come here. Fan-frakking-tastic.
"You okay?" Helo asked, catching her arm as she was starting to Apollo.
She turned to him. "Yeah," she said shortly. "Thanks for not shooting him."
Helo sighed and took a look around. "No problem," he replied. "We need to go. Now."
"Agreed." She approached Wenzler, who was crouched over Lee, checking his pulse. He raised his head to her after a while. "He's burning up, Ma'am."
She felt her jaw clench. Fever, we can bet on a head wound, and gods only know what three days of running around will have done on top of that.
Lee had been turned flat on his back. His eyes were open, staring sightlessly at the sky.
He looks dead, Kara thought with panic. Then, he blinked a few times, ignoring their presence despite the fact that they were talking around him.
She crouched down next to him, trying to capture his gaze. "Apollo," she called.
It took a few tries until he focused on her, confusion and fear written all over him.
"You won't-" he started, and he added something that was too garbled for her to make out.
"Boy, when you bang yourself up, you don't screw around, do you?" she said. "And you smell like a latrine too, by the way."
He just frowned at her. "You don't sound like Leoben," he said in a remote tone.
"That's because I'm not."
He shook his head, looking defeated, then went still.
She opened her mouth but Wenzler spoke before she could ask. "He's still alive. Just passed out."
She nodded at the private. "Right. Let's get him back on board, shall we?"
Chapter 7
Author : Helen C.
Rating : R
Summary : Galactica, Apollo, I've been hit. Repeat, I've been hit. (Set in S2, somewhere between Final Cut and Flight of the Phoenix).
Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Ronald D. Moore and Universal Television Studios to name but a few. No money is being made. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AN. Many thanks to elzed, siljamus and joey51 for beta'ing this, and to the countless people on LiveJournal who held my hand while I whined and whined and whined about this fic.
AN2. Pure, unadulterated H/C. (If you don't like it, lie to me. And if you feel the need to offer con. crit., thanks, but not on this one, please...)
Chapter 6
Kara hated woods. Nothing but trees to block out her view and the damn, cold wind that was still numbing her face and making her eyes water despite the fact that she'd had hours to adjust.
"Doesn't feel like home at all," she mumbled as she narrowly avoided tripping over a root. Frak. The last thing she needed was a sprained ankle. Focus, she admonished herself.
"I hear you," Helo said, from a few feet behind her. He had paused and was looking around. "This is just…"
"Yeah," Kara replied distractedly, but she wasn't paying attention to him. They couldn't afford any distraction. In three hours, night would fall and the Fleet would leave. She had argued long and hard with the old man but he had refused to allow her to stay behind with a Raptor. The Fleet needed her, he'd said. They couldn't lose another pilot.
The way his face had looked had stopped her from pushing even more, because as hard as it was for her, it had to be killing him. He was as composed as ever but it was obvious to her that he was slowly losing hope, and that if he had to call off the search, he'd probably lose the last reason he still had to live.
Hell, even Tigh was looking at him worriedly, and if the old bastard had noticed something was off, then the Commander really wasn't doing well.
Apollo's not dead yet. We're going to find him and I'll kick his ass for making me run all around this frakking rock to save his hide. She was going to make him pay for it in teasing and innuendo and slights to his abilities as a pilot, and he would laugh and shrug it off and all would be back to normal.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted one of the marines; they had spread out, partly to make it more difficult to bring them all down at once, partly so they could cover more ground, more quickly.
Right. Still need to hurry.
"I'm so kicking his ass," she grumbled anyway. She caught Helo's bemused look but didn't explain herself. Instead, she checked, for the thirtieth time in the last hour, that her sidearm was secured to her leg and within easy reach, then picked up her pace. There were four teams on the ground, searching in a circle pattern around the crashed Viper. It was the only starting point they had, and she tried not to think too hard about the fact that if-since-Apollo had ejected, there was a good chance the wind had dragged him far from the downed ship. Even if that wasn't the case, Apollo had a three days head start on them.
Easy as looking for a needle in a haystack.
It would take nothing short of a miracle to find him in time.
Artemis, hear my prayer.
Helo spoke up again, interrupting her. "Do you really think we'll leave if we can't-"
"I'm surprised we've been allowed to spend this long here," she retorted before he could finish. If it had been anyone but the old man's son, we'd be long gone already. And everyone knows it but no one will say anything, because no one wants to tell the man that he should have left his one remaining son behind hours ago, that he shouldn't have come back for him at all.
And Lee will know too, and he'll hate it.
If we find him.
When we find him.
She heard a call in the distance and her comm. came to life. "Lieutenant. We've found something."
Not Apollo, she realized when the Marine didn't elaborate. Nothing dangerous either, probably. The Marine-Private Sykes, if she placed his voice correctly-would have said something if they needed to take cover. He rattled off his position and she took off, Helo following close behind.
She froze when they reached the Private and her eyes fell on the corpse, aware that Helo was doing the same thing at her side.
"That's-" he started.
"A Leoben model," she completed.
"That's the second time you've cut me off," he pointed out in a distracted voice.
"Deal with it." She approached the corpse, her mind cataloging the dried blood spread in a halo around his head (how fitting, she thought) and the beatific expression on his face. She could picture him alive, spouting prophecies and half-truths, making himself into a philosopher, a prophet. She felt like throwing up.
"Do you think Apollo did this?"
She knelt next to the body. The wound seemed to fit with the kind of damage a colonial sidearm would do.
You're still alive, you bastard, she thought, feeling a smile forming on her lips. It must have been pretty cold, if she could judge by the way Helo looked at her. "Starbuck?"
"Well, I doubt one of his fellow toasters would have done this," she replied, gesturing at the body. Though I wonder why they didn't pick him up. Too busy following Apollo? Or do they just not care about bodies?
It was Private Sykes who broke the silence next. "So, in which direction did he take off?"
"Straight ahead?" she offered as she got to her feet. She unclasped her sidearm just in case and ordered Sykes to recall all the teams and tell them to start searching using Leoben's corpse as a starting position.
Then, she headed off, the adrenaline from the hunt burning satisfyingly in her veins.
*
Bill let go of the receiver and met Saul's gaze. "What did she say?" his friend asked.
"The same thing she's been saying for hours," Bill replied. "We've waited too long already, and she's very sorry."
He was glad he had chosen to take the call in his quarters instead of the CIC. He didn't need the rest of the crew to witness this discussion.
Saul snorted. "Goes to show how grateful she is after everything he did for her." His XO's voice was bitter but Bill couldn't blame him; he had never seen eye to eye with Lee and their relationship had gotten even worse since Lee had been forced to take over the CAG's duties.
The mutiny had put the last nail in that coffin; they'd work together because they had to, but that was it. As long as it didn't interfere with their duties, Bill could only watch as they exchanged barbs and thinly veiled insults. Thankfully, they were both professional enough to keep it mostly out of sight of the rest of the crew-though Lee couldn't have chosen a more public setting to take a stand when he put a gun to Saul's head.
He was still disappointed with that, he realized. Funny; his son was lost on a planet, they were going to have to leave him behind, and yet here he was, dwelling on past mistakes.
This wasn't like him.
He didn't think about the past, didn't agonize over mistakes that couldn't be repaired, didn't lose energy rehashing past hurts. He couldn't afford to-except when it came to Lee, apparently. A lot of his usual behavior patterns changed when his son was concerned, sometimes for the best, sometimes for the worst.
If it had been anyone but Lee, we would have left hours ago, he thought.
"Politicians," Saul added, in a tone that conveyed all the contempt in which he held them.
"She has to consider the whole Fleet," Bill pointed out. He had repeated it to himself so often in the last hours that it came out flat and rehashed-like a pre-recorded voice on an answering machine.
Hell, maybe if he told himself that another few thousand times, it might make it less bitter to swallow.
"Right, of course she does." Saul shook his head but got to his feet, case closed. Bill noticed that while he hadn't actively pushed Bill to jump sooner, he also hadn't tried to argue the case with the President. That was the second time he actually agreed with a woman he still referred to as a teacher. Bill wondered what he'd say if he pointed it out to him, but his heart wasn't in it.
We really are going to leave him behind.
"Well, the rescue teams still have a few hours," Saul offered as he headed to the hatch. In the dim light of the quarters, it was difficult to make out the expression on his face. Was he satisfied at the outcome? Did Saul even believe that there was a chance the teams on the ground would find Lee before it was too late?
"Yes."
All he could do was wait. That was the aspect of command he'd had the most trouble with when he had been given his first battlestar. Giving orders came naturally to him, but waiting until others carried them out was more difficult. He had always been more of a doer than a thinker, had always been quick to make up his mind and implement his decisions. Something Lee couldn't seem to achieve. His son had grown into his role as CAG and was already one hell of an officer, but he also tended to think too much before making decisions. With command came big decisions to make-decisions that affected thousands of people.
And the decisions I made in the past three days put their lives at risk. Bill had allowed his personal feelings to stand in the way of the safety of the fleet. That was part of why his crew was so loyal to him; they knew he would do anything for them.
But there had been cases when he had needed to make hard calls-admitting that the war was lost, leaving Kara behind, forgiving the President. He had been able to let go, sacrifice some of his men to save as many people he could.
It hadn't torn him up as this did, though.
But I'll do it, he thought, horrified to realize that he meant it. I'll leave him if I have to.
He would never forgive himself, but he would do it. The part of Lee that was a soldier, an officer, would understand why his commander had left him behind. But the part of Lee that was his son probably wouldn't, and that, more than anything, weighed down on Bill.
If he hadn't been an atheist, Bill would have prayed. But he didn't believe in the gods any more than Lee did-Lee, because he prided himself on his pragmatism, Bill because he didn't like the thought of higher beings influencing his fate. That was one thing they shared; same atheism, same blood, same love of flying and of course, same stubbornness.
At times, it was infuriating, but today, Bill was glad to know that Lee had a stubborn streak a mile wide; it would help him survive, and hopefully bring him back home.
"Wilco, Galactica, but I tell you what; it's got to be her. This thing is flying with some serious attitude."
He smiled at the memory. Kara had pulled off a miracle that day. And Lee had pulled off one his own when he had saved Colonial One and part of the civilian Fleet, the day of the attacks.
He didn't believe in the gods but he could have faith in the men under his command, in Kara and Lee, trust them to accomplish another miracle and bring his son back to him.
*
Over the last few days, Kara hadn't wasted time trying to picture what finding Lee would be like.
Had she had time to spare, maybe she would have imagined herself finding Lee and saying something to provoke him, and him replying in kind, and the two of them making their way to the Raptor bickering like they were still twenty-year-old cadets learning how to fly instead of the officers they had become.
Maybe, in one of her most pessimistic moments, she would have pictured finding him unconscious somewhere, and they would have brought him back to the Galactica and Cottle would have done his thing-for all his acerbic manners and his bluntness, the guy was good-and Lee would have been fine.
Never, however, would she have imagined finding herself facing a gun being trained on her face by Lee, no hint of recognition on his face, as if he wasn't even seeing her.
"Hey, Apollo," she called, distantly noting that the three marines who had followed her were moving to circle him. Helo was standing at Kara's side, his gun aimed at Lee. Kara lowered her own, put a smile on her face and hoped that she'd manage to keep him distracted long enough for one of the marines to make his move.
Private Sykes took a step and a twig snapped under his feet. He froze mid-movement, his eyes widening slightly, then stared at Lee's back.
Kara spotted the way Lee minutely turned his head to the sound, before frowning and leveling his gaze on her again. He was holding his gun with a white-knuckle grip, and he was covered with dried blood and dirt.
The marines started moving again, slowly, quietly. Under normal circumstances, she would have said it was useless-Lee was good ; he was bound to recognize the tactic.
Circumstances, however, were far from normal. Lee didn't look like he was going to stay on his feet much longer anyway, and even if that wasn't the case, he was in no shape to take on three marines, Helo and herself.
"Captain?" Helo tried, from his spot next to her. He hadn't lowered his gun; she wondered what Lee would make of that, but he didn't acknowledge him, merely kept staring at Kara. "Captain Adama!" Helo insisted. Kara wanted to snap at him, "Don't you see he's not hearing you?" but she restrained herself.
The gun Lee was pointing at her wavered and she saw his eyes clouding over.
That's it, she thought. Pass out already so we can get you out of here, because you sure as hell look like you could use some quality time in sickbay.
Of course, being the good little stubborn soldier he was, he didn't collapse. If nothing else, his grip on the gun got even firmer and when he focused on her again, his eyes were holding a resolve that chilled her to the bone.
"You won't take me alive this time," he said, the words obviously taking a lot of effort.
This time? she wondered as he pulled the safety back.
Frak it all to damn frakking hell and back.
The day just kept getting better and better.
"Lee?" She tried for a detached, friendly tone. Come on, get a grip, Lee. You know me. We're friends, remember? "How about we blow this stand and go home? Wouldn't you like to go home?" Where it's warm and dry and you can clean all that blood off yourself.
Kara noted that the marines were all in position, waiting for her signal.
Right. She'd give the easy way another try but if it failed, they'd just have to try this the hard way. The longer they stayed here, the more chances they had of being spotted by the Cylons. Come on, Lee. Don't do this to yourself. Be a good boy. "Lee, it's me." She wondered if her voice was shaking. She wondered if the men on the team could hear it, then decided that she didn't care. "What do you say we get you off this rock and into a nice, warm bed in sickbay?"
He kept staring at her, but the blank expression had been replaced by a frown. Maybe she was starting to get through to him. Or maybe his brain had been scrambled in the crash, or maybe the Cylons had captured him and played with him for a while, or maybe-
She stopped, annoyed with herself-she'd learn what happened soon enough-and focused on her friend again. "Lee? Now would be a good time to start talking." She tried to smile again, then gave it up. "You're starting to freak me out and I'd hate to have to kick your sorry ass for it."
"You don't sound like Leoben." His voice was hoarse and she imagined how much it must scratch at his throat to talk-and this only to say things that made no sense.
"That's because I'm not," she replied.
She saw him shiver as a gust of wind washed over them. He was still somewhat aware of the outside world, then. Good.
"Starbuck," Helo whispered.
"What?" She managed to snap at him without raising her voice, a talent she had perfected at flight school, where she usually used it to make cutting remarks at other cadets whenever an instructor was in range. An ability that had turned out to be useful in plenty of social situations, such as finding her best friend totally out of it and more than a little scary on a foreign planet, light-years away from home.
"Try something else."
She glanced at him and noticed that his hands were starting to turn blue. Right. The cold. She had stopped feeling it when they'd found Lee, but that didn't mean her teammates weren't still affected.
"Why don't you sound like Leoben?" Lee mumbled, and Kara sighed. Helo was right. It was time to wrap this up and get Lee to the nearest medical facility, where hopefully, Cottle could make some sense out of it all.
Sorry, she thought. But you brought it on yourself.
She gave a quiet nod to the marines, still waiting for her order behind Lee. One of them-she knew his name, she was sure she knew his name, and it was going to come back to her in a second. Wensler. Or Wenzler. Or Wendler. Damn.-started to move forward behind Lee's back, approaching without a sound. Later, she'd take a moment to marvel at the fact that such a large man could move so smoothly, so silently.
Lee shook his head absently, the movement eliciting a small grimace. How was he still standing, a part of Kara wondered, marveling at the fact. How was he still talking, and how was his aim still so steady when she could see that he could barely stay on his feet?
"I thought…" He frowned at her. He looked vulnerable, all of a sudden, all traces of his earlier hardness gone. "You were there."
"I was on the planet before, yes," she said. "But-"
"You were there," he repeated, his voice firmer this time. For reasons she couldn't even begin to guess, his eyes grew distant again. "You were there." He had gone from pale to almost gray.
"Lee?" she called. Wenzler-she was pretty sure that was his name-had stopped moving. Good call, she thought. Let's try to bring the lunatic back with us peacefully and not do more damage than has already been done. "Did you see me?"
He laughed, a sound that made the hair on her arms stand on end-harsh and bitter and cold, so unlike Lee that for a moment, she was sure that the Cylons had killed him and replaced him with a copy-a copy that lacked all that had made Lee, Lee.
A look at Helo confirmed that he was as disturbed as she was.
She met Lee's eyes. "We need to go," she said. "Last chance to make it out on your own, Apollo."
She saw the moment when he decided to shoot; something flickered in his eyes, fear and resolve and something she couldn't quite put her finger on.
"Lee!" she yelled.
Ohgodsohgodsohgods, he's going to get himself killed.
Wenzler-she'd need to check that that was indeed his name and then offer him a drink, or a stogie, something for being so damn good at what he did-tackled Lee to the ground just as he fired. The shot sounded, awfully loud in the silent woods.
Great, now all the Cylons in a one-kilometer radius will know to come here. Fan-frakking-tastic.
"You okay?" Helo asked, catching her arm as she was starting to Apollo.
She turned to him. "Yeah," she said shortly. "Thanks for not shooting him."
Helo sighed and took a look around. "No problem," he replied. "We need to go. Now."
"Agreed." She approached Wenzler, who was crouched over Lee, checking his pulse. He raised his head to her after a while. "He's burning up, Ma'am."
She felt her jaw clench. Fever, we can bet on a head wound, and gods only know what three days of running around will have done on top of that.
Lee had been turned flat on his back. His eyes were open, staring sightlessly at the sky.
He looks dead, Kara thought with panic. Then, he blinked a few times, ignoring their presence despite the fact that they were talking around him.
She crouched down next to him, trying to capture his gaze. "Apollo," she called.
It took a few tries until he focused on her, confusion and fear written all over him.
"You won't-" he started, and he added something that was too garbled for her to make out.
"Boy, when you bang yourself up, you don't screw around, do you?" she said. "And you smell like a latrine too, by the way."
He just frowned at her. "You don't sound like Leoben," he said in a remote tone.
"That's because I'm not."
He shook his head, looking defeated, then went still.
She opened her mouth but Wenzler spoke before she could ask. "He's still alive. Just passed out."
She nodded at the private. "Right. Let's get him back on board, shall we?"
Chapter 7