Title: Waking Nightmare
Author: GEM
Date Written 3/13/07
Feedback: Please send it good or bad
Rating Strong T
Word count: 866
Story Timeline: Season 3
Category: Drama/Angst
Focus: William Adama
Summary: Life will never be the same…He wasn't ready to lose her
Spoiler: Post Maelstrom
Author's note: This is pure raw emotion. What I think might have happened in the moments after the end of Maelstrom.
Stunned silence fell like a dark shroud over the CIC. There would be no search and rescue, there was no reason to mount a rescue, there was no one left to rescue. Kara was gone. She went down in grand fashion or so some would say but the truth was, even the mighty have fallen. The truth was Starbuck fell. It tough to say what brought about this Change in the mighty pilot she lost her edge and now family and friends must mourn her loss.
William Adama stood frozen in time he dare not move for fear that moving would make these feeling real. What was his feeling? How could you describe these emotions? He wasn't sure. He wanted to crawl in a hole, to be left alone and never show his face again. He had lost the best pilot he's ever seen, his best pilot, his lost his daughter and his lost his youngest son, again. Zack, was now gone, forever so was Kara. He had to leave; he couldn't stand here any longer. He needed to be alone, he needed to wake-up from this nightmare.
Adama hung up the handset and without a word left the Combat Information Center. Everyone remained in stunned silence watching him exit the truth was no one dared open their mouth to say a thing; noise would make the nightmare they were all experiencing real.
Anastasia "Dee" Adama stood next to the dradis Console and watched her father-in-law leave his post. She felt room question her gaze as if, asking her if someone, anyone should follow him but she knew better. William Adama was an intensely private man. He needed to be alone.
As he walked away the corridors were quiet, anyone who walked by him gave him a wide berth. They let their commanding officer alone. They didn't stop and salute, they just quietly walked by.
William Adama felt as if he was heavier than a ton of bricks. His chest was on fire, his skin was crawling, and every time he took a step his legs were heavier than the last. He felt himself shaking but knew there were no outward signs of it and for that he was relieved.
Each step he took closer to his destination was harder than the last. Anger and Rage were building up inside of him and he could feel it starting to boil over as he struggled to make to his sanctuary.
Once inside his quarter away from prying eyes and inquiring minds William Adama closed and locked his hatch in affect locking him away from this outside world. He was numb and he didn't want the feeling to go away. He walked over to his desk, threw his glasses down on the blotter and proceeded to pour himself a glass of his favorite Scotch.
The Amber liquid didn't offer as much comfort as he had hoped. It burned on the way down his throat and although he was still numb the burning sensation that accompanied the liquid alone served as a reminder that he was in fact alive.
He was alive and the stabbing pain he felt in his chest was indeed the heartache he felt only once before in his life. It was a pain he never wanted to feel again. A pain that was reserved for one thing the loss or a child. It was a pain that solidified the current reality that this was most certainly not a nightmare this was a cold hard reality. Kara was gone. She would never return… She was walking with the gods.
The thought of her never returning to him, to this ship was enough to push him over the edge. He needed to let his anger go he needed not to feel anymore. He did the only thing he could. He stared at the rest of the amber liquid in the glass and knocked it back without thought, he then gripped the glass tightly in his hand and threw with all possible force at the wall.
William Adama heard the noise as the glass hit the wall and saw the shards of glass hit the floor. He stared at them and then pick up a wayward Jagged piece and studied it. This piece of glass represented his life. shattered, destroyed, fractured, never to be the same again. He collapsed to the floor in grief, the shard of glass still gripped firmly in his hand. William Adama remained on the floor racked with emotion, his body shaking uncontrollably, tears following freely down his face and blood dripping from an open wound in his hand.
He looked down at his now bloody hand through his tears. He wished he could trade places with her that somehow, as inadvertent as it was, he shedding his own blood could bring her back to him, to all of them but instead it sealed the reality of events for him. This was not a dream, it was not a nightmare, it was a waking nightmare.
A waking nightmare meaning it was real. He was alive, he was bleeding and he was grieving for Kara, his daughter who would not be coming home.
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