THE HANDLE OF HUMANITY
Disclaimer: ... dude, if it was mine, I wouldn't be writing "fan fiction."
Spoilers: S3, early S4. See continuity note below.
Main Characters: Bill Adama, Laura Roslin, Tom Zarek, Sharon Agathon, Karl Agathon, Lee Adama, Kara Thrace
Continuity Note: I started writing this story just before the start of Season 4, and the outline was completed prior to episode 4.08, "Sine Qua Non." Everything in here is mostly consistent with the series up until that point; I say "mostly" because it's set after Season 4, and thus I've had to make assumptions to fill in the holes between what we know now and when this takes place. I do read spoilers, but I treat nothing as canon until it airs. I'm doing my very best to stay true to the show we all love so much, but I've put a lot of work into this story and I really don't want to rewrite the whole thing if something drastic happens. I'm sure you understand, because hey, isn't that we write fic? ;) This is just a cover-my-ass thing in case anyone pulls a "zomg ur stupid!!1 that didnt happen, dont u watch the show at all?" If the urge to flame my fic grabs you, please, I beg of you, use proper grammar. Think of the children.
PROLOGUE
Earth
The near future
He opened the lid of the jar and touched into the ash inside, watching as some of the fine powder passed through his fingers and some stuck to his warm skin. The sadness inside him welled anew, and he pulled his hand away. It had been several days now, but the pain was as raw and fresh as it had been the moment it happened. He stared at the ash that clung to his fingers, just like he had clung to who it once was. He wondered what he was holding. An arm, an eye, the heart, the brain, a fingernail, the liver, or some combination of everything? It could just as easily be the ash from the fire. He remembered the looks he got when he collected them. He knew why it had to be done, but even so, this wasn't how he wanted it to end. It was unfitting for one so brave, so selfless, and so close to his heart.
This was what a human was: dust. Shadows and dust. It didn't matter where they were from – Caprica, Kobol, Earth – in the end, they were all the same thing. They all bled, they all sweat, they all suffered and they all grieved. They all loved, and they all lost. Even the Cylons did. In many ways, they were more human than some of the ones here. The one who fought with everything he had to keep them from making their home here. The one who shot Laura Roslin. The uncountable number who let fear born of ignorance consume them. At least the Cylons weren't cowards.
And now, it had come to this. If only he had listened to her! He had a history of choosing what was in his head over what was in his heart, and while it had cost him in the past, he'd always found the strength to go on. Not now. Now, he was no better than these Earth-humans who only hated something because they didn't understand it. Realizing his own ignorance, his own self-righteousness, came at the cost of the only one left whom he had not yet driven out of his life, the one he loved most of all.
He was a fool... such a fool. She was right about him, and because he refused to see it, he lost her. Forcing her face out of his mind, he dropped the lid and began to tilt the jar. The ashes poured out the top faster and faster as the angle increased, and the wind caught the remnants of that which should have been his entire world and scattered them among the waves of the churning river below.
William Adama let the empty jar fall from his unfeeling hand, then turned his head skyward and cried out his grief to the stars.