Title: Bottle, Half Empty
Rating: G
Character(s): Bill Adama
Spoilers: Up to and including 4x16 - Deadlock
Genre: Angst
Summary: A flas fic of Adama's thoughts
A/N: My first BSG fic. I had to put something down. This show pwns my soul.
*****
It's been happening for so long, he doesn't remember when it started. And he can't remember what it was like before. It's like a disease, a foreign entity in his body that he can't control. That he can only feel. Gnawing away at his soul.
*
He knows she hates it. He can feel her disapproval from halfway across the room. He wants to stop, for her sake, but secretly he wonders why he isn't allowed this vice. She is slipping away from him, he can see it a little more every day, and he can't bare it. He'd rather bury his head in a bottle then have to watch her slowly die before him.
*
His ship is dying. So long has he been on board that he knows her sounds. Can feel her and her moods and the way she shifts beneath his feet. And she's breaking. From the inside out she's being consumed by her own weight, giving in to the neglect of the past years. His neglect. He heard her crying and he ignored her and now he's fighting a losing battle to save her too many years too late. He'd rather be numb then carry that guilt.
*
His world is slipping away. His son, following in his footsteps, suddenly forsakes the vows he's made. He doesn't understand. He's lost his son to a world beyond the military that he has no knowledge of, to a place where he can't follow.
His daughter, a surrogate, is beyond his comprehension. He looks at her and see's a stranger, a woman living in a different world and he wonders if there wasn't something he should have done. Some way he could of helped her.
He'd rather drink alone then hear her answers.
*
His best friend is a machine.
The knowledge still burns through his chest so much sharper then the alcohol ever could. No matter how much he drinks, no matter how far he retreats, he can't escape the truth. The irony. It eats him, slowly, excruciatingly painful, mocking his friendship and his trust and his love.
Tigh is still the same man, and that hurts him further still. He would rather succumb to darkness then deal with all the anger he holds, the rage at the injustice.
He's losing himself down a bottle. And he's not sure he even wants to be found.
~fin
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