I haven't written in so long, I think I've forgotten how to do it. Anyway, some "Revelations" fic.

Title: The Last Thing That Dies

Fandom: BSG 2003

Rating: PG

Pairing: Gaeta/Hoshi

Word Count: 770

Spoilers: 4.10 "Revelations" - mid-season finale

Summary: A fake jewel nestled in black velvet.


The planet is beautiful on the surface with gauzy clouds dressing the brightest blue oceans Gaeta's ever seen. It's hard not to stare at it and be filled with hope but Gaeta's taken to treating all things with cynical caution until proven otherwise. Not that it's a safer approach but one more instance of unexpected disappointment might actually kill him and Felix still has a reason to live.

A reason that's standing next to him wearing a smile as wide as the galaxy.

It's hard not to grin in response when Hoshi sneaks an arm around his waist and presses a kiss to Gaeta's neck. His joy is contagious, turning the air around them electric. The entire battlestar seems to be floating on a sea of drunken glee and Hoshi's been drinking deeply from it since the moment they jumped.

"I'll bet they have coffee," he whispers. "Real coffee."

"Hope so," Gaeta replies amiably. The "coffee" they've been drinking has been a combination of roasted algae powder mixed with stale water and bits of stims and is disgusting beyond words.

"We'll need to check out those beaches when they let us down there."

Gaeta shrugs. The mere thought of dragging himself and his crutches over long stretches of sand makes him tired. "Maybe."

A little of Hoshi's glee evaporates. "I'm sorry, Felix. I wasn't thinking."

Guilt tugs at Gaeta's throat and he leans over to nuzzle Hoshi's crestfallen expression away. "Don't mind me, I'm being a spoilsport. You can look for shells, I'll sit and have the coffee, okay?"

"Sounds fair." Hoshi smiles again. He pauses before continuing shyly, "Besides, I'd say there's a good chance they can build you something for your leg. Or give us the materials for it."

"If not, I can always ask our Cylon friends." The bitter words are out of his mouth before Gaeta can stop them. "They're good at 'building' things."

Hoshi pales, his arm slipping away from Gaeta's waist. "Felix."

Gaeta winces and rubs a hand over his face. "I'm sorry, Hosh. I'm just ... tired."

"I know you're tired and not yourself but you have to have a little more hope, okay?" Hoshi admonishes as he leads Gaeta to a nearby seat, holding him steady with a hand on the small of his back. "We've made it to Earth. We've survived. You've survived. It's over and things are going to get better now."

Gaeta nods, not really listening as he stares out the giant porthole. Earth is a truly mesmerizing sight, a blue jewel floating in the black velvet of space but Gaeta knows that jewels are sometimes fake and that hope can be a liar, breaking a man's soul into too many pieces to retrieve.

Above them the speakers announce the return of the Admiral's ship from his journey to the surface. Hoshi's delighted. "Oh, gods. I'll bet they brought things back with them. If it's coffee, I hope we all get a cup."

A cold sense of dread suddenly fills Gaeta's heart and he doesn't know why. Swallowing past it, he holds out his hand to Hoshi who gathers Gaeta's cold fingers close to his heart before kissing them. "We're almost there, Felix. It won't be long now."

"Almost there," Gaeta repeats, glancing up when his name echoes out of the speakers, ordering him immediately to the Admiral's quarters. He struggles to his feet with Hoshi's help. They walk to the lift together, as still-jubilant crewmates swarm through the walkways, talking, laughing, even dancing.

"Don't hog all the Earth goodies," Hoshi mock-orders. He leans in closer as the lift doors close, his eyes as bright as the oceans below. "I love you."

"Love you too," Gaeta replies quietly, but the lift is already gone, on it's way to officer's level. It's a long limp to the Admiral's quarters and he takes his time, noticing that the old man's door is closed. The hall around it is eerily silent except for the click of his crutches over the metal floors.

When he opens the door, the face that greets him is devoid of hope. The Admiral's eyes are red and for the first time he looks as weak as Gaeta feels, bent and ancient.

Felix leans against the doorframe for support. "Sir?"

"Come in, Mr. Gaeta," the Admiral says, his voice shaking. "And close the door behind you."


end

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