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I've chosen my path. I will accept the consequences of my actions. This doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt like hell. Since coming aboard the Galactica I've tried so hard to please my father. But nothing I do seems to please him, or even make him cultivate some form of affection for me. I stopped believing that he loved or even could love me a long time ago.
You might think that I chose to defend Baltar to spite my father. I certainly did not do it because I feel any warm and fuzzy feelings towards that traitorous coward. I am sure that Baltar did betray us, but the point is that we have no proof. Not one shred. Whatever there is, is circumstantial. Any real evidence was destroyed when you left New Caprica. New Caprica, another frak-up in a colossal line of frak-ups.
I defended Baltar, because if we start condemning people without evidence, the Cylons will have truly won. They already destroyed millions of lives. But if Baltar's trial had happened in the way people like my father and the president wanted, the Cylons would have succeeded in destroying our civilisation. You might argue that rules and regulations are not that what make a civilisation. But I believe they do. They are the basis on which all other is built, we cannot have one without the other.
If Baltar had been officially been named a traitor, how long before the witch hunts would have started. Shortly after the colonies fell and we learned that Cylons looked like humans, the commanders of this fleet were afraid that if people learned of this, they would start accusing their neighbours of being Cylons. Which is exactly what would have happened if Baltar had been convicted.
So I basically sacrificed myself to save or at least try to save humanity. I don't know if I succeeded. Probably not. General consensus is after all that I am only a back up. Second to the old man, second to Starbuck. Always second to others.
I am bitter about this, but like I said I have long given up on being loved or even accepted. I can see it in their eyes. They think I am an interloper. Adama being the better commander, Starbuck the better pilot and also to my father, the better child.
I'm sorry, I tried so hard to be what everyone wanted me to be. The good son, the strong leader, the caring husband. But I failed at all these things. So there is only one thing left for me to do. I know I will not be missed. You have Starbuck after all. Returned from the dead and knowing the way to earth. She'll finally become CAG as everyone wants.
So whoever has the misfortune of reading this and finding me, I'm sorry
Goodbye, Lee.
Bill Adama reread the letter, the suicide note for what must now be the tenth time. He clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut. Every word, every letter felt like a physical blow. He knew that he had never been a good father; absent a lot and always putting the service before his family. The military man in him had made him loose his wife, his youngest son and now also his eldest. A passing airman had noticed some blood on the floor and followed it into Lee's quarters. He had slit his wrists. His son had been rushed to the Life Station, where they were even now fighting for his life. Doc. Cottle had not been optimistic at all. He told Adama that Lee did not want to live and even if he survived this attempt, there would be more to follow.
How could this have happened? He should have seen that something was wrong with his son! But lately it seemed that there was always something wrong with Lee. When he had heard that Lee was part of Baltar's defence, something in him had broken. How could his flesh and blood defend that man? The words that had been exchanged between him and Lee were unforgivable. He had been lived, but that was no excuse. Especially as he had now learned that they had been the turning point for Lee, the final nail in his coffin. The words that had led him to take his own life.
The intercom cracked and came to life.
'Admiral Adama to Life Station, Admiral Adama to Life Station, STAT'.
He jumped to life and rushed down to the medical centre, where Doc. Cottle was waiting for him. The grumpy doctor got straight down to business:
'Lee's awake and out of danger for now. But he would be better of dead if you ask me. That idiot will keep on trying to kill himself until he succeeds. Mark my words'.
Arguing with the man served no point so Adama let it go and walked to the area where he knew his son was being kept. Separate from the others as if he had a contagious disease.
Pulling back the curtain that separated him from his son, he mentally prepared himself for the worst but nothing could have prepared himself for what he saw lying in the hospital bed.
His once vibrant son was lying lifeless on the bed. His eyes open but fixed on the ceiling, staring into the nothingness. He didn't respond at all to Adama's presence. His skin was extremely pale. It flitted through Adama's mind that this is how Lee would look if he were truly dead. He immediately shoved the thought to the side. Not really knowing what to say he approached the bed and sat down on the chair next to it. His gaze was drawn to the thick white bandages surrounding Lee's wrists. Another reminder of how he had failed as a father. He could only imagine how the wrists must look under the wrappings. Were they still bleeding or had the cuts scabbed over?
Lee still did not stir or make any noise.
Not knowing where to start but knowing all the same that he would have to, if he wanted to keep the last member of his blood family alive, he spoke: 'Lee, I….I'm sorry, I uhm, I….' How did he know that what he would say would not make everything worse? Maybe even his presence would drive Lee faster into another attempt.
He sighed and tore his sight away from his son.
He tried again, 'Whatever you may believe, know this, I do love you and am very proud of you. All expectations a father has, you have more than fulfilled. You have indeed chosen a path that I would not have taken and one that until reading your….your letter, I did not understand the reasoning of. If I had known and if I had not been blinded by my own damn fool pride and anger I would have seen what was happening. I would have understood why, but as usual I was too busy being the commander. Being the man I have been all my life. I'm old Lee, and only now do I truly understand how badly I failed you, failed your mother and also failed Zak.'
Still no reaction from his son. Not even the slightest flicker of his eyes.
Adama continued 'I know that I am probably too late in saying these things now, I should have seen and realised these things years earlier. I also realise that I have no right what so all to ask of you what I am going to ask of you, but please Lee, live. We need you. The fleet needs you as a leader, Laura needs you as a leader and I most of all need you as a son. I need you Lee. And I'm so sorry that I failed you.'
For all intents and purposes, Lee could have been dead, so still did he lie on the bed. Adama was startled by the curtain being violently pulled open. It was a doctor. She shot a wary glance at Lee and then turned to Adama. 'You need to leave. Mr. Adama needs his rest.'
'What, fine. Lee I'll be back as soon as possible. Rest and get better. I love you son.' With those parting words he left his son, somehow knowing that this was the last time he would ever see his son alive again. He also knew, that with Lee, something else in the fleet would die. And that it would be the beginning of the end for the fleet as Lee had foreseen. Something would have to change. And it would have to start with him and Galactica.
The End
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