Title: Triptych
Author: Rina (seariderfalcon)
Prompt: Tears
Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica and its characters are property of Universal Studios and Ron D. Moore. This story is for entertainment purposes only. I make no profit from writing or sharing this.
Author's Notes: Written for the A/R Month of Love in August 2008, well before Sometimes a Great Notion aired, so the third section in this story doesn't quite match up with canon.
William Adama holds himself together only long enough to see the marines close the hatch and haul with them that thing he thought was his best friend. It's just too much. He screams and sends everything on his desk crashing to the floor and blindly reaches for anything else within reach that isn't bolted down. When he runs out of things to throw, he shatters his mirror with his fist, but it does nothing to come even close to satisfying the rage that is coursing through every fiber of his being.
He reaches for a decanter. The hand he hasn't lacerated trembles as he yanks out the cork and chugs down as much of it as he can stand before the burning becomes too much. He catches his breath and takes another large swig. The alcohol soon blurs the room around him, but instead of also dulling everything he doesn't want to feel and remember right now, it brings it all into sharp focus.
His best friend, a man he regarded as a brother, is the enemy.
Members of his crew will die and Laura along with them.
Oh, gods. Laura. His Laura who only hours ago he held in his arms as she finally admitted she loved him, who has made him feel in a way he never thought he would again and perhaps more than he ever had in the past. Regardless of what Saul is, he does know that he was right. She will be next.
The knowledge of what is going to happen brings him to his knees. The grief is suffocating in its strength as he imagines the faces of the man he thought he knew, the crew members being held hostage, and the woman he loves. He slumps down to the floor with a sob.
He doesn't know how long he's remains there weeping before Lee finds him.
He does know, however, that he can't bring himself to follow through with it, can't send Saul to his end and with him Laura and the crew. Not for the sake of some frakking myth. It's one burden he can't shoulder, and though he loathes himself for it, he allows Lee to take it for him while he fades into the detached oblivion he's sought.
Lee leaves but sends Cottle, who tends to his injured hand without comment and sits with him until Lee returns news of a truce with the Cylons. He doesn't care.
He doesn't care until Laura walks in and sees him like this, and then he's ashamed of himself.
He's pitiful and broken. She's alive, radiant, and full of hope.
She coaxes him out of his stupor and he loves her all the more for it.
Laura doesn't think her eyes should be able to produce more tears after all the crying she's done in the last few hours between her reunion with Bill and the burst of emotions she experienced when they successfully made the jump to Earth. They spill down her cheeks once more, however, when Bill leads her to a quiet corner of the ship that has a port with an exceptional view of Earth.
She doesn't think she could be more relieved than she was when Felix Gaeta confirmed that the constellations matched their records, but when she takes her first look at the fabled planet she has lived to see, she feels the release of a pressure she hadn't acknowledged was pressing her down.
She almost doesn't believe she's really here.
This is it. This is Earth and she's alive. She wasn't supposed to make it this far, something in which she thought she'd come to terms and accepted. That she's still here, still standing, leaves her dizzy and light, breathless and giddy.
Bill's there to catch and steady her, though. He wraps his arms around her waist from behind her when she sways, and she leans into into his chest allowing him to hold her up for the moment, her hand caressing the ones that hold her against his chest as she shakes her head and laughs.
Once the moment passes and she regains her equilibrium, she steps out of his embrace to approach the port for a better look, keeping a hold of his uninjured hand in her own. With her other hand, she places her fingers to the glass to trace the swirl of a cloud that hangs over one of the planet's oceans. She doesn't think she's ever seen anything as magnificent or as beautiful as this place they're going to call home.
Turning back to him, she smiles through the tears that still continue to fall and without any warning, she throws her arms round his neck to press her open lips to his with a fervor that the few kisses they've shared in the past lacked. He groans as he pulls her tighter against him. His hands caress her back in the same rhythm that their tongues move against each others.
"Take us home, Bill," she whispers when they finally part, her cheek resting against his as they gaze out of the port one more time.
What starts in sorrow ends in sorrow.
Laura stands next to Bill but can't bear to watch as he reaches down to pick up that fistful of soil as they stand on what should have been their new home. She wants to close her eyes to all the waste before her, yet she can't bring herself to pry away from the twisted metal and crumbling ruins that make up the landscape.
"Earth."
The name tastes bitter on her tongue. She spits it out and along with it all the hopes she's carried for it the last three years. The scriptures are a crock. Fool that she is, she fell for every word of it and dragged along the fleet with her on a journey has been nothing more than a fool's errand.
She blinks rapidly as her already sore eyes start to water from the acrid atmosphere. Breathing normally seems to be a bit more difficult than it should be, too.
At the sound of her pained breaths, Bill turns to take her hand and leads her away for the destruction that surrounds them them. They've seen all they need to see.
In the safety and seclusion of the their Raptor, when he holds her in his arms as she starts shaking, she admits to herself that it's not the atmosphere after all as her sorrow and guilt bursts out of her with shuddering sobs.