AN: I see I've hooked at least a few people with my little AU (and it is an AU, about the only thing I know about this for sure is that it is an AU). That and I am writing this as I go – so wish me luck!
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There was a humming in Lee's ears. Rushing blood, or an air conditioner, a machine, or maybe just voices talking together and over each other and simultaneously so that he couldn't focus to pick comprehensible words out of the sea of sounds.
He stood up. His motions silent, he was sure he could have screamed and not have broken through the cocoon of white noise surrounding him. He needed to – he couldn't stay here. He couldn't.
He stepped out through the double sliding doors, out into the fresh air, the sunset like a thousand sunsets before, warming everything in tones of amber and rose. It was only then that he remembered the car.
In a daze he looked around, searching for the nearest parking lot. He had left the keys in the car, amazed that he could remember that detail. Maybe someone moved it. He needed – well he just couldn't leave it.
He finally tracked it down in one of the parking lots, neatly slotted into a spot. The doors unlocked – the keys missing - he did the only thing he could think of – he crawled into the back seat, hand pausing on Zac's toy viper left there from their ride to school that morning.
His plan had gone terribly. He hadn't been smart enough, he hadn't tried hard enough. He hadn't been good enough.
He curled up under an old blanket, clutching the toy viper that once upon a time had been his, before he had gotten too old.
And for the first time that day, in that horrible, no good day, he started to cry.
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Commander William Adama had confronted a great number of strange experiences in his life. Had fought disorientating battles from the cockpit of a Viper Mark II doing inverted dives. Had dealt with the baffling and sometimes downright bizarre bureaucracy of the military. But he had never been as confused and lost as he was right now – standing alone in the centre of his dark and empty house.
He was late. Last minute ends to tie up before his leave, shuttle delayed for mechanical reasons, general scheduling incompetence of being booked on a commercial flight that didn't, in the end, actually exist ('we discontinued that flight two months ago. We informed the military at that point.' the 'Sir' tacked on by the civilian as an afterthought). In short, Situation Normal – All Frakked Up.
So he was late – he hadn't expected the boys to be up, perhaps Caroline would have waited up, or at least left a light on. But the taxi had driven by the house twice before the driver had been able to find it in the darkness. (He had felt like an idiot, not knowing where exactly his house was, that he merely knew 'it was around here somewhere – number 2256')
He hadn't expected the house to be absolute empty – the boys' room deserted. His and Caroline's room the same – and a mess to boot. Leaving his luggage where he had dropped it, he moved into the kitchen, wondering if someone had left a note. Instead he was greeted by the flashing light on the answering machine, indicating seven new messages.
The first message was his own, explaining that he would be a bit late. Clearly Caroline never got it. The next was from a woman, the sounds of a children's birthday party in the background – indicating that she had Zac and when would they like to come pick him up? Please call at anytime.
The other five messages were also from her, each progressively shorter and the voice more shrill and irritated. The sixth one was just a hang up.
Glancing at the jotted down number, Bill picked up phone, prepared to follow the only clue he had to his vanished family. Twenty minutes later he had a sleepy Zac on his shoulder, and a grumpy and relieved neighbor, who had given him a look that spoke volumes about her opinion on the level of parenting going on in the Adama household.
Unfortunately, Zac had no better idea of where Lee and Caroline were. Which was to say, he had none. He said he came home from school and Lee dropped him off at Margaret's birthday party to play with Sally. Although as near as Bill could tell – neither of the kids had actually been invited. The mother – Joyce – hadn't meet Bill's gaze when she explained that Lee – well Lee – you understand - the other kids didn't really like being around him. He was different. A comment Bill couldn't even begin to decipher at that moment.
The phone rang. He automatically picked it up, cradling it in one hand, Zac still in his arms. Fingers turning white as he identified himself as William Adama, and he heard the words: "This is St. Xavier's - I'm afraid there has been an incident… can't release details over the phone … we suggest you get here as soon as you can."
It wasn't until he was halfway out the door in a panicked rush that he realized the car was gone.
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Lee was dreaming. It was a dream where it was summer and they were all at the lake, in a boat. His father rowing, his mother laughing, as they both sang silly sea ditties and he and Zac hung off the sides, dragging their fingers through the water. One or the other of their parents catching them by their belts when they leaned just a little too far. Then the sun went in, and the wind came up, and he was rowing, and his father was gone, and his mother fell overboard and he screamed and screamed, diving after her, the water so dark and cold – deeper and deeper until he woke up with a start. Remembering where he was, realizing that the car was moving. He lifted his head. Maybe it had all been a dream, and it was just a family car trip home from the lake, from Colonial Day celebrations like they had all planned. That Zac was beside him, his parents upfront, maybe his mother's head resting on his father's shoulder.
He lifted his gaze. Zac wasn't beside him. Upfront were two people, both men. Neither of which was his father. He curled back up under the blanket. He just – he just wanted to go back to sleep, back to his dream of his family, the way it had been at the beginning, in the past. Leave this nightmare of the present behind. He squeezed his eyes closed as tight as he could, but nothing happened. Nothing changed.
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William Adama hated the emergency room. The noise, chaos, all these people, their tragedies hanging over their heads, helpless. Flies in the webs of the Three Fates.
After the phone call, he had been forced to go back to his neighbor – that woman - forced to explain what had happened, forced to ask her to take care of Zac, forced to ask her to borrow her car.
Joyce was a military wife. She hadn't said anything. Merely taking the sleeping Zac from Bill, handing him her car keys. Giving him a written copy of directions to civilian hospital.
He drove it as fast as he could. Got to St. Xavier's in fifteen minutes. Headed towards the main doors only to be stopped by Military Police. Looking around for the first time since he had arrived, he realized that it wasn't just Military Police. But all levels and jurisdictions, swarming around the building, the parking lots.
He identified himself, demanded to know what was going on.
"Prisoner's escaped from custody, Sir." They told him. "We're locking down the hospital, the surrounding area. We apologize for the inconvenience, but you'll have to wait."
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"Who the hell are you?"
Lee didn't know what had given him away. Just that one moment he'd been peering out from under a corner of the blanket, and in the next it was gone, and he was looking up the barrel of a pistol. The car swerved to a stop, knocking Lee into the window, rattling his teeth.
"I said - Who the hell are you?"
Lee swallowed, shaken. "No … no one. The car was unlocked. I was tired. And I – I'm running away."
"Frak- we don't have time for this!" Now that the car was stopped the driver had also turned around. He nodded at the man in the passenger seat. "Deal with him."
The man frowned. "What the frak is that supposed to mean?"
"We're already late. You figure it out."
"We don't kill little kids."
The driver snorted. "Whatever. That bleeding heart of yours is going to get us all in trouble."
Lee couldn't take his eyes off the gun.
"I'm running away." He repeated. "To somewhere. A city or something."
"You've really thought this through, haven't you, kid?"
Lee shrugged, not sure what to say. It didn't really matter, anyway. His mother was dead. He had killed her.
"Oh what did you do? Steal some candy? Fight with your girlfriend?"
Lee shook his head. Suddenly overwhelmed.
"I killed – " the rest of the sentence choked in his throat – "someone."
"Hmm. Maybe there is some potential in you after all." The driver muttered. The other silenced him with a look before turning it on Lee.
Lee didn't flinch under the evaluating gaze.
"Quite the little solider you are, aren't you?"
"Yes Sir."
"Your parents?"
The answer fell off Lee's lips easily. "Dead."
The two men exchanged glances. "Maybe we could use this one." The passenger suggested. He leaned over, just as a car drove past them, its headlamps illuminating a rugged face, piercing intelligent eyes, strong cheekbones framed with dark shaggy hair. The man held out his hand.
"Tom. Tom Zarek."
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