A/N: When I took sociology in college, way back when, I remember learning about how humans cope with jobs that are "24/7." In those days, the examples the professor shared were doctors, ministers, and students—positions where there was no way to say when the work was done—if you're a student, for example, how do you "know" you've studied enough for a test, or if you're a doctor, how do you know when you've done enough for the patient, tried everything?
Well, I think "job search" should be added to that list, because I'll be darned if I know when I've "done enough" to get a new position, up until the point where I actually have a job offer, which hasn't happened quite yet (and then one wonders "if I did more, would I have more choices?"). All to say, I've been in a job search, and when I want to write for this story, I keep thinking I haven't done enough in the other category. That is why there are longer delays between chapters right now…so please bear with me.
Another note: I have to add this, because certain family members of mine might get a little "hot under the collar" for my characterization of test pilots. I will fully disclose I know that test pilots are not loose cannons with a death wish, because they wouldn't be good at what they do (Top Gun portrayals notwithstanding). However, I took dramatic license, okay?
A big round of applause goes to my wonderful beta, Uberscribbler. His commitment helped me through a bad case of writer's block, and his editing/doctoring skills are invaluable. Thank you! A warm thank you to Jane, too.
Please note this is PART A of Chapter 11; PART B immediately follows.
Chapter 11: The Greater Darkness
"Telling me your truth, and telling me your view, in how you see the world…spinning, spinning round. And what is love and what is death? The fears you have to put to rest. And so you walk
like angels talk…" Walk Like the Angels Talk, Toni Childs
"Understanding is a three-edged sword." Kosh, Babylon 5
Sit Rep: New Caprica, Fourteen Weeks After Cylon Occupation, Three Weeks After the Public Square Massacre
Bill regained consciousness slowly. His vision was blurred; as he tried to raise up on his arms, he realized he was weak and dizzy. Leoben had been limiting food and water, in addition to using some type of mind-altering drug that seemed to lower Bill's inhibitions. To Adama's surprise, given Doral's threat at capture, Leoben hadn't used physical force yet. It hadn't been necessary, though; soon after Bill was brought in, he had fallen ill. Ironically, the lack of water was causing the most damage to his systems—he had been losing a lot of fluids, and with no way to replenish his body, he was getting worse as each day passed. It was hard for Bill to calculate how long he'd been captured, but he thought it was at least four days, by his internal clock.
The fever was raging; Bill moaned softly as he willed himself to sit up, leaning heavily into the wall. He forced himself to focus on counting numbers, trying to pull his thoughts back towards something basic and sequential. It was hard to know if it was the drug or the dehydration scrambling his mental processes, but he found himself mixing real events with lucid dreams, in no particular order.
It was vital to keep all of his thoughts simple, logical, with no room for a lapse in concentration. Leoben had hammered at Bill Adama, for endless hours, taunting him about his failed relationships with other human beings, toying with psyche. Bill had always considered himself relatively immune to psychological forms of torture; he knew how to compartmentalize his emotions, knew how to let go of events with negative outcomes. He'd made mistakes—some even grave—when it came to his personal interactions with those most important to him, but he'd faced those errors and resigned, if not reconciled, himself to them.
Somehow, though—maybe because of the fever, or the other health problems—Bill found himself wearing down under Leoben's taunts and innuendos. He couldn't be sure what was imaginary and what was real, but he still felt the reverberating anger and distress at the words, the words that finally caused him to break down in sobs—the words Leoben used to describe the long torture of Lee Adama.
In dismay, Bill Adama's thoughts ricocheted as he endured the Cylon's story: He had to consider the ideas that a rescue had been attempted and failed; Lee had been captured and might be dead; Laura was probably dead; the Cylons had won total victory.
Leoben had been precise in his earlier descriptions of Lee, as he recounted to Bill the methods used. Now those word images wouldn't abate—the freezing water, the suffocation, his son soiling himself as the drownings continued. Bill had gnashed his teeth together as the scenes played out in his mind, and at some point he'd started crying out repeatedly, to Leoben's amusement. Leoben laughed, then, at Bill's agony, and smugly clapped to congratulate himself on finding a way in, a way to bring the great Admiral Adama to his knees.
And Bill had been on his knees, literally, swooning in the grip of the fever, lost in a muddle of intense emotions and distorted time. Not long after Leoben's clapping stopped, the Cylon left the room without another word, and Adama slumped to the ground, exhausted and yet afraid of the dreams that might follow him. Images of all the events Bill had missed in his family's life—anniversaries, birthdays, ball games, school awards, dates—Leoben had managed to paint pictures of each rite of passage, pressing his bare hands into the psychic wounds as he twisted the knife of regret deeper into Bill's heart. Leoben had specific details for every person, each place; those scenes were as vivid as the ones of Lee's torture.
Twitching in physical misery, a small pebble of basic fact rippled through the murky waters of Bill's memory, the outermost wave finally reaching conscious thought. The descriptions of Lee's torture were eerily familiar…maybe he'd imagined the scenes before, and that's why they were so stark? Bill's body jerked and his eyes flew open; he rolled over on his back, moving a hand into his damp hair. When we thought he was dead…
A small measure of relief dared to rest in his stomach; the Cylon was describing Lee's torture from many years earlier, not events that had happened recently. Lee could be alright then, and a rescue still possible. But how did the Cylon have that detailed information? Somehow, Bill guessed, they'd seen the medical records, and Leoben must have presumed Bill, in his current state, wouldn't be able to make the connections.
Bill found tears rolling down his cheeks as he lay there, shivering against the cold floor; he had managed to keep his mind from the abyss, and in that small victory, also hold on to a sliver of hope. He closed his eyes as he gingerly rolled onto his side, curling up for warmth, letting his thoughts focus on internal pictures of his son. He rocked himself to sleep, then, the reassurance enough to still his body, at least for a little while.
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Bill Adama slowly opened his eyes. He was disoriented; the bright overhead light seemed to be turned off, and he immediately realized he wasn't cold any longer. Without moving, Bill tried to let his senses tell him what could be discerned. He was laying on his side, but his head was in something malleable and warm…with a start, he understood it was a human lap. He was covered in several blankets—scratchy, but heavy—and Bill could hear someone breathing. His heart seized; he recognized the sounds, knew the person who breathed through her nose with that soft emphasis. "Laura?" he managed to gasp out, his throat parched from dehydration. He shifted his body to be on his back, able to look up into the face above him.
"Yes, Bill, yes, it's me." He felt her hand come to rest lightly on the top of his head as he looked fully into those eyes and felt his breath catch. He suddenly shuddered, realizing the fever was still with him; his physical condition wasn't much improved.
"Laura…I've been…the fever…"
Laura nodded, her hand beginning to slide through his hair and then stopping abruptly, as though she thought better of it.
"Hopefully Leoben will follow through on his promise to bring a medic to check you out, B—Admiral."
"Laura, gods, don't call me that now," Bill moaned softly, closing his eyes as he felt his mind faltering again. "I've been missing…" His voice was barely above a whisper.
With a swift movement, Laura gripped Bill's head in her hands, jerking him into alertness.
"Admiral, they have cameras and microphones here, to observe us." The words whistled past her clenched jaws. Bill struggled to put the phrases together, absorb what she was saying and why. Finally, the realization penetrated his mental fog…Laura didn't want the Cylons to understand the nature of their relationship. Leoben could use it against both of them, and Bill could see the fear in her eyes—anxiety for him, to keep him safe. He nodded his head slightly, to let her know he understood the situation now. She let go of his face, her hand squeezing his briefly before moving to the side.
Bill moved his own hand up, letting it rest on his chest as he made the shape of an "L" with his fingers. He wanted her to know how deeply he felt, to say the words in the only way left to them in the present moment. Laura casually moved her hand next to his, making the same shape. He could see the intensity of emotion in her eyes, though she couldn't allow tears to form.
He felt himself fading into unconsciousness again, the energy drained already from his body. Fighting against it, he pushed himself to talk. "Are you doing alright…are you in pain?" Bill watched carefully, looking for body language to fill in the blanks her statements could not.
"I'm in reasonable shape, Admiral, all things considered…I've managed." It was bad, but they've left me alone more recently.
"How are our friends?" Are the others still alive, still free?
"I haven't seen anyone since I was brought here, other than Starbuck, so I assume they're making things work with the Cylon government." I only know Kara's here; if there were others captured, the news would have been flaunted, so they must still be out there, leading the Resistance.
"Was Starbuck good?" Have they tortured her…how bad is it?
"She seems to be doing quite well." It was bad…she needs help.
"I'm so tired…more questions later…" Bill finally murmured, as his body refused to do more. The suffering is endless. Bill fell back asleep, concentrating only on the warmth radiating from the woman who cradled him; he couldn't allow himself to dwell on the other unasked questions he was certain tortured both of them.
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The second time Bill awoke, he found himself on a cot, clean clothes against his skin and blankets draping him. There was an IV connected to his left arm, but he was in the same room as before, and he could see Laura laying on a second cot nearby. He was weak, but he could tell his condition had improved; the fever appeared to have broken, and his body was calm. Bill tried to sit up, but his muscles refused to fully cooperate, so he resigned himself to turning on his side to see Laura's form directly in his vision. She was asleep; he wanted to slide in next to her there, hold her tightly against his chest and breathe in the scent of her skin, feel her hair touching his cheek. He had to settle for the warming sight of her, the aquiline features of her face standing out from the grey of the blanket tucked under her chin.
Listening to the steady rhythm of inhale and exhale, Bill sighed at the immense pleasure of such a simple thing. Laura's features were drawn, worry creased into her forehead even in sleep; there were dark shadows under her eyes. Bill wished he could stare into her eyes again, feel that strength radiating from them…he was still plagued by the emotional tempests Leoben had stirred within, snippets of memories invading his consciousness at nearly every turn. Willing himself to focus on stillness, to let the jolts of adrenaline abate, Adama reminded himself he was stronger than the Cylon, able to see past the manipulation and manage his thoughts. It just took all of his energy to make it happen, an item in short commodity at present.
Laura stirred; as her eyes focused on the man across from her, she smiled. "You look better…how do you feel?"
"I'm on the mend, I think…though not much physical strength yet, I'm afraid." He gave her a small smile in return.
Laura sat up. "They left some food for us. I'll bring it over." She stood, and Bill was relieved to observe the woman did not appear too thin or malnourished. She grabbed a chair to sit next to Bill's cot, carefully easing him into an upright position to eat. He managed small bites and drained two glasses of water quickly.
"They haven't…this is the most, in terms of basic needs, that the Cylons have provided since…since I got here." Bill still wasn't sure how long he'd been imprisoned.
"It's a cycle. The others seem to let Leoben have free rein for a while, then come in to…fix things…and Leoben returns afterward." The bitterness colored her voice, but Bill knew Laura was choosing her words carefully; she didn't want to say something that would set off the Cylon.
Adama nodded in understanding. They both sat in silence for several minutes; it was difficult to have a conversation when everything either one wanted to say was somehow off-limits in the current situation. Bill wondered if the cameras would pick up on the way his body vibrated around Laura; they weren't touching, but every cell seemed to be reaching for her, and he could sense the same energy directed towards him. If only I could touch her face…
Finally, a thought struck him. He cleared his throat, and she caught his eyes. "You know what I've been thinking about, when…when alone in my cell?"
Laura shook her head "no," waiting to see where he was leading them.
"I was remembering that book I loaned to you before you came to New Caprica. The one about the fur trader who hunted in the mountains of the Circean range on Leonis."
"Oh. I think I recall the basic storyline—the protagonist, Perian, discovers a secret passageway through the Alon Pass. He manages to bring information to King Theonae that saves his city-state from decimation at the hands of their enemy, the Fromites."
"Right—that's the one. I see you did get to finish it." Bill winked at her; he was certain Laura would understand they could communicate through the retelling of the "plot."
"So what brought that to mind?"
"I was trying to…to keep my mind focused, so I decided I'd run through the catalogue of books I could remember reading, seeing how much of the plot I could recall for each one."
"How many books were you able to remember?"
"Only a few…I was…the fever was blurring the stories with dreams…it was convoluted." Laura's eyes widened slightly; she wondered if Leoben had been giving Lethe to Bill. She remembered similar disoriented periods during her continued incarceration.
"Why do you suppose that plot stuck with you, given…everything?" Laura hoped this would be the right opening for Bill to start sharing the coded details of what had been going on outside. She was suddenly hungry for any information related to other humans, pieces to explain the history of events since she'd become trapped in Leoben's grip.
"I...I found King Theonae interesting. He wasn't always a good man, but he redeemed himself to become a great leader. I guess that was comforting to think about, when I was feeling…worn down by this…this situation."
Laura weighed Bill's words. The last sentence had been tossed in to keep up the pretense, explain why Bill would think of that story; the first part, though, about King Theonae was the real message. Zarek. He was probably trying to let her know something about Zarek.
"He did become a strong leader. The king experienced great tragedy, though, that transformed him and motivated him."
"Right. He watched his son being slaughtered at the hands of the Fromites, and had to force himself to concentrate on protecting his people, rather than on personal revenge." Bill held Laura's gaze, looking to see if she was grasping the underlying meaning.
Son…the king's son…Zarek's son…Gaeta? Gods, Gaeta was dead?
"Later, the king discovered the son's last act, before his murder, was completed at great sacrifice to save the citizens of the state. It's what inspired King Theonae to trust Perian, believe that the secret passageway was real and that it was possible to preemptively strike against the Fromites."
Laura tried to keep her features normal, despite the fact she didn't understand this aspect of Bill's message at all. If the son was Gaeta, then what did Gaeta accomplish before he was killed? What would be the "secret passageway?" How could the humans preemptively…a twinkle came to Laura's eyes as she made out the pattern. Gaeta had found a way to communicate, get past the jamming signals. They had a hidden path to send messages…and if the messages were received by the Colonial fleet, all of the humans might be rescued through a surprise military strike. At least, Bill seemed to think so.
Looking away, not wanting her emotions to get the better of her, Laura closed her eyes for a moment. Bill was trying to give her hope, let her know plans had moved forward, despite the costs. She was grateful, and overcome with longing. Bill was right next to her, after all this time, still giving her his strength even when he could ill afford to. It was excrutiating, being within arm's reach but unable to even take his hands into her own.
Laura suddenly realized she should say something in return, bring the pretense to a close. It was better if they didn't continue on this path for long, or the Cylons would realize the ruse and push to decipher the real meaning. Too much was on the line, if she understood what might happen in the near future—if the Galactica and Pegasus actually picked up the signals and responded.
She faced Bill, and assumed the features of seriousness. "I never liked the story because of the ending, though; it was a pyrrhic victory. The Fromites were defeated, but they brought with them a plague that killed 80 percent of the city-state's population."
Bill's eyes flashed for a moment, until he processed what Laura was attempting to do. "True; it doesn't have a happy ending. But it's quite a ride along the way."
Laura nodded. "I guess we can relate to that aspect, huh."
"Yeah," Bill spoke slowly, "I guess we can."
With a genuine frown of concern, Laura rose quickly. "You're looking a little pale again, Admiral; have some more food and water, and then it'll be time to rest."
Bill wanted to protest, but he was feeling weaker, so he said nothing as she gathered up the items and returned beside him. A few minutes later, she helped him ease back into the cot.
"What will you do, while I'm…it must be tedious, spending so much time with nothing to…to focus on."
"They gave me three books to read; every two weeks, I get another three. They're all old Colonial stories about the first Cylon War. I think they're meant to be instructive." She was trying so hard not to be sarcastic, but some words just insisted on coming out another way.
"You read them?" Anyway? He thought silently.
"Yes. It gives me a lot to think about, keeps my mind occupied. Beats the alternatives." She smiled, but Bill could tell it held nothing genuine.
"Now, Admiral, close your eyes…and I'll get to my reading."
Twenty minutes later, Laura gave a real smile as she heard the man's soft snoring. In the long months of captivity, she imagined that sound in her ear so many times; it was hard to believe she was actually in the room with him, after so much suffering. Laura couldn't be sure they would ever make it out of the Cylons' grasp alive, so she cherished this moment for what it was—the small light in the darkness.
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Kara sighed contentedly as the hot water seemed to seep into every pore. She was so grateful to be able to enjoy something again, and the shower had been her last "safe place," where she felt away from CylonLee's reach. Even though it had been some time since she'd had to see him or hear his voice, Kara found herself seeking the solace of the warm, enclosed space at least twice a day, where she still felt most protected.
Each day, different bits of recollection filtered back to her. She labored to fit the items together in any logical sequence. Other than the journaling she'd completed a few days before, very little else came in the same large chunks of recovered experiences. But people did seem to pass through her, almost like ghosts; Kara could hear their voices, remember their laughter, almost reach the full sensation of an explored memory…almost. Helo, the Old Man, Sam…and even people she had negative feelings about—Kat, Dee, Tigh…she could see the faces and breathe in the singular emotions associated with each person. But only one engendered the feeling of profound romantic love…and aching sadness. She wasn't able to pull out the events that transformed one into the other, but it was the splinter in her mind's eye. Something blocked the flow of thought, leading her past that night in the cabin…but the key to full mental recovery seemed to hinge on overcoming the psychic barrier.
Kara focused again on the present moment: the sound of the water rushing over ears as she stood directly under the pulsating stream, the scent of the soap in her hands reminding her strangely of almonds, the steam filling the area around her. Abruptly, a spike of adrenaline shot through her. She closed her eyes and pressed her hands hard into the tiled wall. She was feeling claustrophobic…the steam is too much…I can't breathe well…thena clear memory snapped into focus at that moment. Gods, he's choking me! I can't break the hold…I'm being pushed under the water, and it's so frakkin' cold…stop, stop, don't do this, you know it's Kara—it's Kara! Must fight harder, or he'll kill me…dragging us to ground now…losing consciousness. Thrace, forget who it is and take control with the combatant! Still choking me…must do something…
Kara heard herself wheezing as her body reacted, her leg repeating the movement from the memory. To her shock, she heard a forceful groan and felt hands drop away from her throat. Confused and dizzy, she fell towards the shower opening, her knees slamming hard into the floor. Looking back, Kara saw CylonLee doubled over, hands reflexively covering his crotch. He was fully naked; horror bolted through her realizing who was there in that shower and what he'd intended to do.
Running out of the bathroom, Kara managed to make it into the bedroom. She shoved a chair under the handle, then did a sweep of the room for anything that might make a valuable weapon. A marble sphere, similar to the one CylonLee had used to break her foot weeks ago, sat on the side table. That will have to do…she moved into the corner by the door, where she would be hidden as it swung open. CylonLee wasn't talking; he was all about force, slamming his body against the barrier. With the Cylon's strength, Kara knew she wouldn't have to wait long. Her body was thankfully more or less healed; if she struck his head with sufficient surprise and leverage, she could overcome the bastard. Why is he here, though? What's changed? Kara pushed conscious thought aside; her best chance in this moment was to be all instinct, all animal.
With a fierce cry, CylonLee propelled the door into the room, the chair shattering in satisfying cracks and snaps of flying material against walls. His lanky form took one large step forward, head swiveling quickly to catch his opponent's movements. Kara was crouching, to be sure he'd miss her in his peripheral vision just long enough for a surprise jump. She sprang upward, slightly off the ground as her arms flew above her head to bring the marble down squarely onto the top of his skull.
CylonLee's arms jutted out, grabbing her against him as they both fell to the floor. Blood was seeping rapidly over his face, and still he fought her, reaching for the weapon. Kara managed to knee him again, then smashed the heavy weight into the side of his face. His grip around her body failed, but as she rolled away, he caught her wrist and yanked her toward him once more.
Kara was certain CylonLee would die in a few more moments, yet he held her in a painful body position. She could smell the blood, feel droplets spatter her as the Cylon moved his mouth to speak. "You make me so hard, when you battle this way, Kara; I want to be inside you again, and I will—we will—be together in a few hours. You're completely mine now—do you understand? From this point forward, I'll have you with me, all the time. You'll show me what you've been up to, and remember how to love me…just like we were before Simon and Doral interfered."
Kara clutched in the core of her being at his words. She spat in his eyes and drew the marble weight down hard enough to break his wrist, releasing his hold. In fury, she screamed as she took another swipe at his head, and another, and another, until she was shaking in temporary exhaustion. His blood covered her—most of her skin and her hair were steeped in the dark liquid of his hateful life force. She let the weight drop to the ground, and threw up next to the dead Cylon's body, her mind reeling from the capricious and precarious character that defined her existence.
Resolute to continue killing the monster or die in the attempts, Kara forced herself to stand. She would need to get cleaned up and come up with plans for other ways to take CylonLee down. Kara realized there was another important task to complete as well, if the Cylon was telling the truth: she needed to destroy everything she'd created or written down in this place. CylonLee might take her identity yet again, but he wasn't going to get any new clues from her to help in that process.
As Kara stepped back into the shower—now, even this was no longer sacred ground—she was shaking uncontrollably. In desperation, knowing she still had the strength somewhere to face the grimness ahead, she began muttering a forgotten prayer to Aurora. Kara felt it emanate from some region of her brain previously dormant, like a candle against the darkness:
"Aurora, bring illumination, bring the secrets into the burning fire of truth and revelation. With the strength of Apollo, defeat my enemies. Bring me back to the Sun, giver of life, and burn the heathens to ashes in certain retribution.
As Kara felt the prayer finish vibrating against her lips, she could swear she heard his voice—Apollo's—calling out her name.
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Sit Rep: Pegasus, Fourteen Weeks After Cylon Occupation of New Caprica
Lee had been sitting in the main temple again, meditating. At least, that's what he called it; he wasn't praying…not really…he just was focusing on the stress management techniques the PTSD counselor had taught him, willing himself to control his thoughts.
The room was always quiet and empty, he found, if he came at the same time as when he first visited, so he began shifting his schedule slightly to make it to the sanctuary when he might be alone. Lee told no one of his increasingly regular sessions; he wasn't prepared to explain his shifting perceptions, or give hint he experienced more than just peacefulness when he entered there. Tonight, in particular, he actually felt restless, as though anticipating something. It's probably just excitement over the scout raptor launches…
Cracking his neck, stretching his arms up and then sideways to also crack his back, Lee inhaled deeply and repositioned his body. I've got to find a way to relax; I need sleep badly.
An uncomfortable heat inexplicably came over him; he looked into the depths of the room, trying to find a logical explanation for the change. In another moment, a sharp pain resonated in his forehead; his hands went instinctively to his temples as he let out a low moan. An image of Kara flared behind his eyes; he was…Gods, no, not that memory, not yet…his hands were around her neck, choking her as he dragged her onto the river bank…Can't go back there, yet, can't go back…she was kicking him, frantically; he finally let go, and then he was running, running, running, running…
Lee's heart beat furiously, his moan echoing into the chamber…and then he heard a voice pounding in his ears. It was clear and determined. Aurora…bring me back to the Sun, giver of life, and burn the heathens to ashes in certain retribution."
"Kara! Kara!" Lee came back into his body with a whooshing feeling, the pronounced headache gone as quickly as it had come. His pulse was rapid, heart still beating wildly; he tried to sort out what had just happened. As he turned to take in his surroundings, he made out the shape of an old woman. The Priestess stood there, the one who'd given him the prophecy…she was looking at him expectantly.
"You're here…was—was that really Kara?"
"What does your instinct tell you, Lee Adama?"
Lee said nothing for a minute. "What are you supposed to share with me now?"
"Still the skeptic. Work on your faith, and quickly. If you don't learn how to trust in the unseen, you'll lose the path, and thus they all will. It's her, Starbuck; she's calling out to you, Apollo, by name. What more proof do you need? There's time…time to save her, time to bring them all back to you, but it grows dangerously short."
"I thought…the dream…the bond was severed…"
"No, Apollo, never severed. Dormant…weakened, perhaps…never broken. Only you have the power to do that, and you won't."
"Even across all this—"
"This what? Do physical distance and time matter? Your thinking is so limited! You keep refusing to accept what I shared with you. It must change. The gods are losing all patience. Apollo, even with Helo's support, you turn away from what you know to be true. Why? What do you struggle with so unremittingly?"
"I look at my past, and I can't see the way forward. I thought I did, on New Caprica, and Kara outright rejected it—rejected me. You tell me Kara and I are bound—divinely, even—but we've spent far more time apart than we ever did together. You tell me she can restore my soul, but she gave her soul to someone else, another man. You tell me I am to lead our people, but when I had a role of leadership before, I lost control, lost my way completely afterward, lost any sense of purpose or hope in the future. Yeah, I struggle to believe any of this, with or without Helo's involvement. I don't even accept the existence of—"
"Enough, Lee Adama! Enough!" Something in the woman's tone caused Lee to step back, a fear spreading quickly through his core.
To his surprise, the Priestess shifted energetically, empathy on her face as she moved close to Lee. "Take my hand, Apollo, and pull out the icon of Aurora you keep with you; set it here, next to this candle."
Without being sure why, Lee complied. "You heard Kara's voice, praying to Aurora?" Lee nodded.
"Kara is linked with Aurora; there's more to tell, but not at this juncture, so just remember Aurora is significant to both of you. Now, I want you to kiss the icon, then baptize it in the flame of the candle." Lee moved to finish the tasks. A strange liquid heat began swirling in his veins.
"You feel the energy?"
"Yeah…"
"Good. Now, sit with me, your hand in mine, and tell me the memory you were having, Apollo. How did you come to that fateful moment with Kara at the river by the cabins?"
Lee stared at the woman, stunned. "Your skepticism must fall away, Apollo. I am here, as before, to help you. The Lords of Kobol wish success for this cycle; yearn for it, in fact. We must successfully change the pattern this time. So follow my lead, and walk through the pain."
Lee found himself accepting the truth of her statements. He began, in a low tone, to recount the rest of journey with Kara after the Eos mission.
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Sit Rep (past): Caprica City, Three and One-Half Months after Apollo's return
The following day with Kara, after she'd come to him in the cabin, had been a heady mix of love-making, laughter, and conversation. Lee marveled at the way his heart felt so rich and satisfied in her presence. The passion was intense, but the friendship matched the desire; they spent hours discussing flying and sharing experiences each had missed in the life of the other over the past many months. Kara encouraged Lee to think about his future, really invest securing his test pilot berth. She offered to help him through the sims, take him on practice runs to pass the skills examination necessary for final acceptance. He basked in the warmth of her spirit, eager to accept everything she was ready to share.
Then Kara began talking about their future—Lee and Kara, together. It was late in the evening of the second day; both were acutely aware they had but another few hours to make plans, break away, or remain in an agonizing limbo. Lee couldn't imagine how he would be able to let go of her, but his feelings of guilt regarding Zak were beginning to overcome other defenses; he feared an emotional purgatory would be the only outcome, if they couldn't come up with other answers.
Kara was putting another log onto the fire. It flared brighter for a moment; Lee caught his breath at her beauty in the contrasting shadows of the firelight. Sensing his eyes on her, Kara turned to smile at him.
"I know it's time to figure things out, Lee. I'm amazed you held out this long, honestly."
Lee smiled wistfully back. "I'm amazed you just brought it up."
Kara sat beside him, turning to study Lee's eyes as she gently grabbed his hand. "I…I'm ready to be with you. Want to be with you. One hundred percent committed." She bit her lower lip, waiting to see what he would say back.
Lee reached for her face, stroking under her cheekbone as he nodded in agreement. "Me too. One hundred percent committed."
"From the beginning, I don't fully understand what happened between us, Lee, but my faith tells me there's a deep significance to our connection. It's more than just…"
"A romantic relationship?" Lee wasn't sure the word "love" could be spoken aloud between them yet.
Kara snorted a small laugh. "Well, that's one description. Love is another." She said it softly, the words almost swallowed; she maintained her gaze with his.
"Yeah…that's the word I would choose, Kara." His voice was still, but full of emotion and warmth.
Kara nodded, her lower lip trembling; she pressed her teeth against it again. "I watch Sarah and Tom, or think of myself with Zak, and I see…it isn't like this. What happens between us. So we…love…and there's something more. Something that frightens me and inspires me all at once. Something I don't think we're supposed to fight any longer, or risk angering the Lords of Kobol themselves."
"Who are you trying to convince?" Lee chided with a smile.
On impulse, Kara leaned in and kissed him. Gentle as it was, the passion was so intense he lost himself.
"Do you feel that, Lee, when our souls…" she said quietly, reverently.
"Touch--shift into one another? Yeah, Kara, I feel it. Gods know, it's like a drug."
"Like a drug. Only I think it's…" Kara stopped, unsure if she could give voice to the secret beliefs she held about the two of them.
Lee saw the hesitation. "It's okay, Kara. Talk to me. What do you sense?"
"It's the gods' gift to us, Lee, to make sure we have each other, to face what's ahead."
Lee's face creased with worry. "What's ahead…I don't—"
"I don't know, either. I just think, no feel, like everything's going to change. And we'll be expected to accept the burdens. As long as we're together, we'll be strong enough to handle whatever comes." Kara had a far-away look in her eyes; Lee suddenly felt cold and unnerved.
"Kara, I'm not…" He had to stop, breathe, and try again. "I have a lot of baggage. I can't think about expectations like that; I've only started thinking about the future in the past 24 hours. I want to be with you so much I can't think straight, but if you have this idea I'm going to be a hero or a leader or—"
"I don't want you because of that, Lee. If you expect hero worship, you have the wrong girl." She smiled, to lighten the mood; he was clearly spooked by the mention of any larger destiny or responsibility, and honestly, it was just as uncomfortable to her.
"Kara, are you really…are we ready to do this, take this step? Zak will be devastated; I don't know if he'll forgive me." His face was dark with the pain of that idea.
"Lee, I do love Zak—you have to know that. I've been happy with him, and this whole situation is absurd."
Lee's head jerked at that statement; she saw his eyes darkening. Kara pulled his chin up, staring straight into the depths of his soul. "But I don't, I can't, fight this any more, this aching I feel to be with you. No matter how I've felt about Zak, it isn't the same level of intensity. We risk a great deal to take this step, but we risk as much if we don't."
"Do you honestly believe that?"
"Yes, Lee."
"So what do we do?"
"We tell him tomorrow, when he gets back from the trip with Tom."
"Just like that?"
"Yeah…just like that." Kara leaned in to kiss Lee again; Lee's emotions were warring within, and Kara had to quell them. The desire flamed instantly between them; in a few moments, Lee had lifted Kara fully into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. As their souls danced deeper and deeper, Kara could feel the bond strengthening, beginning to soak in the permanence of it. They fell asleep, finally, foreheads touching, unspoken words of love lingering around them.
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The following morning, ready to work off the energy of jangled nerves and mixed emotions, Lee and Kara set out for more fly fishing. The day was bright with sunshine and the fragrance of pine greeted them as they neared the river banks. As they waded deep into the steam, Kara pledged she would be the one to talk with Zak that evening; despite everything she and Lee had shared, Kara felt a lingering fear Lee would reverse course, running rather than risk hurting his brother.
It wasn't that Kara wanted to hurt Zak, or that she felt no remorse; gods knew her heart was heavy with the mess she'd made of things, falling in love with both brothers, causing this situation. Nonetheless, Kara was resolute in moving forward with Lee. She was convinced their path together was the will of the gods, and she wasn't willing to ignore her own instincts longer. She prayed Lee would find the strength to forgive himself, eventually; Kara believed Zak would fall in love again, and he could absolve Lee, given space and time.
As the morning turned into afternoon, the two fell into a happy rhythm of conversation and playfulness. With ten fish caught, Lee suggested they head back; Kara had other ideas. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into the water, laughing as he gasped with the cold water splashing over him. He reached for her, ready to pull her in sideways into the deeper water with him, but she twisted away at the last minute and stepped beyond his grasp. He was shouting taunts, a big grin on his face, as he waded for a moment, then found a way to unbalance her. Kara fell forward into his arms, then tripped on a rock underneath the stream and slid quickly under, doused in bracingly frigid water. Wanting Lee to forget his momentary victory, Kara reached for his head, shoving hard as she kicked his leg to propel him deep beneath the water. Lee was thrashing; she kept him under another ten seconds, teasingly.
When Lee managed to lurch out of the stream, his countenance was completely different. Before Kara could ask anything, she felt his hands grip her neck with startling force. She tried to speak, to tell him he was hurting her, but the hold was so tight she wasn't able to get the words out. In another second, he had shoved her far under the water and locked his arms. She couldn't break free.
Fear surged through her mind; Kara couldn't understand what was happening. Survival instincts fought for control, and at last, Kara managed to get her head above the surface. Her arms were going numb rapidly in the cold, but she swung hard, trying to force Lee's locked arms to break position. He let go momentarily, but in the next instant had grabbed her by her clothes, dragging her onto the embankment.
She was screaming, trying to see his face, shake him out of his altered state, but it was to no avail. He grabbed her throat again with one hand and began beating her face with the other, close-fisted. Remembering something from her Academy training, Kara managed to raise her hand, jabbing a thumb into Lee's eye; as he groaned, Kara kicked him forcibly in the groin. Falling back on his haunches, Lee growled, then shook his head; Kara recognized the instant he returned to himself, because he slid backwards on his hands, crawling away from her with a look of self-loathing.
"Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods! What did I do? What did I do to you?" Lee scrambled to his feet. He started screaming—it was an agonizing sound, like a tortured animal.
Kara tried to get up too, but her recently re-injured knee was uncooperative; she hitched her breath as the pain made her dizzy for a second.
"Lee…" she said on reflex as she worked to comprehend the inexplicable. This man had just tried to kill her, for frak's sake! But something Tom said came to her, and it clicked: post-traumatic stress. Something about the water triggered a flashback…that's why he acted out.
"Lee," she called out again; it was too late, as Kara realized he was running towards the cabins. Kara started screaming his name, asking him to stop; she knew she wasn't going to be able to catch up with him and she didn't want him taking off or doing something even more rash. It was useless; he'd disappeared beyond her line of vision.
Kara forced herself to stand and begin moving. She couldn't let Lee fight this alone. He had to know she would be next to him, help him through his recovery. As fast as she could manage, given the misfired, angry nerves in her leg, Kara started the trek back.
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Lee ran the entire distance to the cabin. Falling into a heap on the front porch, his body ached, lungs straining in labored breathing. He was trembling and ice-cold, unable to wrap his mind around what he almost managed to do. The sight of Kara's white skin and terror-filled eyes made him want to take a knife to his throat. It was impossible to accept he could have killed her a few minutes ago.
With a self-hatred he was beginning to find oddly normal, Lee drew on his fury to move again, entering the cabin to begin packing his things. He raced from room to room, shoving items frantically into his duffle bags. It was important to leave—now—before she got back, before Zak returned, before he'd have to face anyone and explain how Lee Adama had turned into a monster, unrecognizable even to himself.
To his dismay, as Lee went to put his luggage in the car, he discovered the keys were nowhere to be found. For the next twenty minutes, he searched everywhere to get his hands on them. Finally, in a last-ditch effort, Lee went to Tom's closet and began feeling through the pockets of all his clothes; he was rewarded with the clinking of a key set in one of the jackets. Hoping it wasn't too late, Lee scooped up the bags, taking large strides to the car. As he made it to the trunk of the vehicle, however, Kara appeared.
Lee could see she was in pain; despite everything, he owed it to her to make sure she was alright. He dashed inside and grabbed some water and a painkiller; Kara had sunk into a porch chair by the time he returned. "Here…drink this. I…I'm so sorry, Kara, for…Are you okay? Do I need to drive you to the doctor?" He wanted to escape, so she'd be free of him, but he realized he needed to see if he'd done more serious damage to her physically.
"No, no doctor, Lee. Look, I know what happened…you freaked out in the water. Something to do with your torture…"
Lee looked at her, sadness overtaking his body.
"Hey, Lee, it's me—Kara. Nothing's changed—you hear me? I said I want a future with you, and I meant that! Godsdamnit, don't run out! Let me help you. Please, Lee, let me help you. There's nothing to be ashamed of." Kara stood up, pulling Lee close. She felt him hold her briefly, but then he dropped his arms and stepped away.
"No, Kara…No. This wasn't…I should have known I wasn't fit for anyone anymore. I'm damaged goods. I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you, if I—"
"Lee, don't think that way." Kara grabbed his face with both hands, willing her strength to him. We've come this far…I'm not going to run. Neither are you, okay? I know you love me, Lee, and—"
Lee pushed her backwards, despondent. "I can't afford to love you, Kara, or anyone. We don't try to kill people we love, unless we're beyond the reach of hope. I'm there, and I didn't even know it. I thought…I thought I could have more than just being a soldier…but I was wrong. I'm too frakked up for anything else. Be with Zak, Kara. He loves you deeply, and you said you're happy with him. You and he deserve that." Lee moved purposefully towards the car.
"Gods, Lee, you can't mean what you're saying!" He turned to face her; the agony etched in her features nearly undid him. He tried to soften his voice; instead, his tone came out flat and cold.
"I'm leaving. Please don't contact me, Kara; just focus on Zak, on the Adama who's whole and can give you a life worth having. I'll…I won't be at the house by the time you both get back, so don't worry about running into me at my mom's place. Tell Tom I'll him I'll call him once I've taken care of a few things."
Kara stood with her feet apart, arms coiled as though for a fight, her mouth gaping. She wanted to get into the car with Lee or knock him unconscious to keep him in place until the others returned, and she was petrified he might try to take his own life. Something in his voice, however, stopped her in her tracks. She was still Kara Thrace, who needed no one and certainly didn't chase after a man who was rejecting her.
Obviously, Lee had no faith in her, in their bond; he didn't believe she could help him or would stand by him. With that truth taunting her, Kara acknowledged her mother was right about her, as always; life-changing love wasn't possible for a Thrace, and certainly intense happiness was a pipe dream. Kara might be able to find contentment, if she worked hard to be worthy of that. It was the most she should reach for.
Lee placed the bags in the trunk. He got into the car without another word, and sped off without looking back.
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Sit Rep (past): Caprica City, Six Months after Apollo's return
Lee and Tom had been in the sims for hours, going through the series of maneuvers Lee would need to complete in order to pass the test pilot admissions evaluation. Tom was relentless, as he had been for the last three months, coaching his friend back to some semblance of normalcy. They both knew it was only a surface change; Lee was not "his normal self," and likely wouldn't be again.
The truth, as Tom understood and accepted now, was that the Lee Adama he'd embraced as his friend was probably gone for good. In his stead was a person only half-human, disconnected from the soul. This Lee was cold, even calculating at times, with a death wish well-suited to the test pilot life.
Tom knew it wasn't that Lee didn't still care for others. He was grateful for the Tom's help to get his physical prowess back and recover his flying skills. In his own way, Lee tried to show Tom his appreciation, often helping with projects and ensuring he put the right words in the right ears to secure an early promotion for Tom to Captain. But Lee kept everyone at more than arm's length any more, emotionally. Even Tom didn't know the details of what had happened back at the cabins three months earlier.
It wasn't for a lack of trying; Tom pressed Lee any number of times for details. He could feel the anguish radiating from Lee, and sensed anger and frustration from Kara. Clearly, something significant passed between the two. The resolution Tom originally hoped for, however, hadn't manifested. Lee was even more twisted inside about Kara Thrace, and Tom believed Kara fared no better, despite her recent engagement to Zak.
There was no use in digging deeper, Tom finally concluded, because Lee had moved on, if nothing else. He accepted Tom's help with his recovery, and Lee did see one of the counselors on base about the post-traumatic stress episodes. If Lee was hardened, he was at least functioning, and Tom couldn't extend himself further than he already had if his friend didn't want more from his life or for himself any longer.
Tom heard the whispers, though, the rumors suggesting Lee was permanently scarred emotionally. The worst ones focused on his penchant for escorts; Lee would pick out a new woman every week, the stories ran, and they couldn't be blondes. He had strong sexual appetites, according to these women, but he was aggressive and detatched; other than the physical release, he seemed to derive no pleasure from the experience.
Equally disturbing, Lee actually seemed to avoid sleep. He was frequently observed punching the heavy bag until he sank to his knees in exhaustion; some claimed they regularly found him sleeping on a locker bench the following morning. How Lee managed to perform so well in his sims flight training, given these behaviors, was a testament to his overall skill. Tom wondered how high Lee's scores would be if he were getting regular rest.
Truthfully, they couldn't improve much higher, since he was beating his own records each week, closer to the score maximum. No matter what had happened to him, Lee was still an ace flier.
It was time for Lee to take the test; Tom knew broaching the subject, however, was going to be tricky.
"Hey, Tom, did you see the last maneuver I added at the end of this run? It worked out pretty well, actually." Lee was stepping out of the machine, unzipping his flight suit.
Tom moved to follow; they headed to the showers. "Yeah, that was an impressive move, Apollo. Think you're ready for the actual flight test?"
Lee glanced over at his friend as they walked. "I was wondering when you might bring that up."
Tom tried to act casual, although Lee's flat tone made it difficult. "Didn't want your ego getting too big too soon, hotshot—you take enough risks now to challenge Starbuck's title." Tom mentioned her name on purpose; he was going to have to talk about her sooner or later in relation to the upcoming test, so he might as well find out how Lee reacted to her these days.
As expected, Apollo's body tensed up immediately. "Don't compare us, Tom."
"Well, you need to get used to it, fly boy, because everyone else will."
Lee shot Tom an angry look. "Why's that? She's a flight instructor, not the gods' gift to—"
"She happens to be the lead for the test pilot examination, Apollo."
Lee stopped walking. "She does the scoring?" He was obviously unnerved by the idea.
"No, not the scoring. That's actually done by computers and a board reviewing the flight videos afterward."
"So what's her role?"
"She's responsible for what the test consists of: which maneuvers, in which order, and she can toss in any surprises as she sees fit. There's no flight plan; the pilot has to respond to her commands and follow her lead."
"How the frak did Kara end up with that much say-so?"
"She's the legendary Starbuck, remember? You're the one who predicted she'd make the history books, Apollo. Seems the Admiral Board agreed with your assessment."
Lee cursed under his breath. "Of all the frakkin' things to deal with, after everything else."
Tom pulled Apollo's arm, heading towards the showers again. "You could talk about the 'everything else' part…it might help."
Lee spat out a hostile response. "Tom, the last time I listened to your advice about Kara Thrace, it ended in a painful disaster. You mean well, but I'm not going to talk to you or anyone else about what happened. It's over; I dealt with it my own way."
Tom's anger increased as well. "By humping prostitutes every chance you get? Classy, Lee."
Lee stopped in his tracks, fists gripped. "If you hadn't done so much for me, Tom, I'd strike you where you stand for that comment."
"For telling the truth?" Tom wasn't going to back down.
"It's none of your business."
"Agreed. It isn't. But I used to consider you the man I'd want at my wing no matter what, and I can't say that any more, Apollo. Now you're a loose cannon, in my book."
"How does using an escort service equate to recklessness? I haven't endangered—"
"Lee, for frak's sake, don't patronize me. The prostitutes are just a symptom of something else. You did the one thing I tried so hard to help you see would be too destructive—you made the situation with Kara larger than life, and now look at where you are, flying around with a death wish and cold to anyone who tries to reach you, who cares about you!"
The fist connected with Tom's jaw at lightening speed. Looking back on it, Tom shouldn't have been surprised; at the time, however, as he fell backwards from the force of it, Tom was aghast.
The new, detached Lee didn't apologize. He went for an ice pack and handed it to Tom, before walking off; they exchanged no words with one another for a week afterward. At last, Tom sent Lee an electronic message, apologizing for his part in the provocation, and telling Lee how to arrange for the test. Lee wrote back, offering no explanations, only thanking Tom for his friendship. The two communicated infrequently after the incident, and didn't see each other for some time to come.
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Lee was pacing in front of the viper, unsure if he was anxious about the test, or simply ready to jump out of his skin because he was about to see Kara. They'd only had a few electronic exchanges, just over the past two days, setting up the time and arrangements. He hadn't heard her voice since the day he'd left the cabins.
No matter how Zak had pleaded with Lee, his brother would tell him nothing of the reasons for his sudden departure those months ago, and he steadfastly refused to see Zak if there was a chance Kara might be around. The reality of that wasn't lost on Zak, of course; he was left with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his gut whenever he considered the reasons for such careful avoidance. Kara was no different, which worried Zak even more, but when she agreed to marry him, Zak decided his future wife had secrets he would need to live with if he wanted a successful marriage.
Zak and Kara's wedding was six weeks away; as Lee waited for her arrival, he hoped they could get through this experience with enough civility left over to navigate through that big day. As the best man, he could hardly avoid her. Standing there, Lee thought about how he desperately needed to pass this test, have his acceptance and new job already in motion by the time the wedding day arrived. That way he'd have something to hold onto, something to help him remember he had a future, even if it was only a shell of a life.
His head turned as he saw Kara walking up, her Starbuck strut on full display, cigar in hand, sunglasses in place, hair lightly moving in the wind. She still took his breath away. He gulped and wiped his hands against his tanks, his flight suit still not completely zipped up. He stuck out a hand; she took it and shook firmly, with a rapid release.
"Hey, Apollo. Ready to show what you've got?"
"Today's the day, Starbuck. It's our first time flying together. Should be memorable, don't you think?" He smiled; it carried no warmth, only a challenge.
"Skids up, then. Good luck." She sauntered towards her bird, not looking back; he closed up his flight suit and climbed into the cockpit. Ten minutes later, they were in the air; Kara began laying out the maneuvers.
For the next ninety minutes, Lee experienced true happiness again. Starbuck's voice vibrated warmly in his ear, and they both discovered they anticipated each other's moves with a preternatural accuracy. She inserted changes in rapid succession; he continued to match her, move for move. Her instructions were interspersed with flirtatious commentary, which Lee likewise matched, word for word. Unsurprisingly, he was getting painfully hard, as the headiness of the flying and innuendos mixed in a high-tylium concoction, making it difficult to keep himself from imagining her, making love to her, the feeling of being inside her...
He gripped the stick tightly, the irony of the situation hardly lost on him. "Frakkin' concentrate, Apollo," he muttered.
Kara heard it anyway. "Losing focus, flyboy? Can't have that up here."
"No, Lieutenant Thrace, not at all. Next orders?" He was amazed he could keep his voice so firm and even.
"We're done—I don't do the scoring, but you just exceeded every examination flight I've seen, and you also managed to break one test flight record today. I'd say that was a good performance, Apollo."
"Thank you, Lieutenant Thrace," was his only reply, not the yell of triumph sounding in his head.
"Okay, let's land the birds. Be sure to wait until I've signed off on your post-check."
"Confirmed." Lee was puzzled; it seemed an odd request. As he shifted awkwardly in his seat, his erection still pulsed tight against his body. Get that body under control, Apollo! She doesn't need to know the state you've been in for the last thirty minutes!
Lee's head was filled with a jumble of images. He was thinking about the maneuvers they'd just completed together, and the sound of her voice almost in his head; he was picturing her underneath him, eyes locked with his own, climaxing in an intense wave of emotion, her voice rasping his name as she came. The feel of Starbuck's hand actually in his own startled him out of his racing thoughts.
"Let's get out of here, okay?" Lee nodded, ready to follow her anywhere. Her skin glistened with a light sweat and he felt his hard-on surge again.
She was moving at a near jog, pulling them in a narrow space between two buildings. It was dark and intimate and related to nothing.
Before he knew it, her lips were frantically pressed against his, making him sink his back into the wall for support as conscious thought was overwhelmed by the scent of her and the feel of that hot tongue dipping into his mouth. Her hands were sliding across his face, and he heard her whispering "I missed you, missed you, missed you" as she thrust a tongue into his ear before sucking forcefully against his neck and then returning hungrily to his mouth once more.
He was so hard he was in agony. Numb fingers groped at the zipper to her flight suit, anxious to feel any part of her against him. She let her tongue explore with his own as she yanked his zipper down, eagerly reaching down to grip his erection and stroke his balls.
Lee moaned; he was lost, utterly lost in her. He let his hands reach under her tanks, rolling her nipples in his fingers, and felt her slide against him with a heat that still surprised him.
He lifted her shirt to let his tongue glide over her taut nipple, while his hands feverishly sought out her wet center. He entered her with two fingers, a rapid rhythm to match what he wanted to do with his body, and felt her come around him almost immediately. Pulling her hair, forcing her head back, he looked in her eyes.
"You were just as turned on…" Lee moaned in awe. He could see by the desire there she had been as aroused. "Gods, Kara, I want you, to be inside you…"
"Yes, Lee. Now. Frakkin' now."
"But we might—"
"As long as I get to feel what it's like to have you again, Lee Adama, I don't care if I get arrested…"
The old Lee would have stopped; as he was now, the thought of being discovered only excited him more. He guided her hand down against his hard-on, panting as she fisted him. He was already so close to climaxing, and he had to feel himself driving into her…had to come deep inside her.
They pushed off the flight suits and other clothing to their ankles. Lee flipped Kara around, so her arms pressed against the other wall, and he lifted her just enough to thrust hard, entering in one move. She was moaning his name, and he gripped her hips, sliding roughly, each time colliding against her ass as he drove himself over and over. He had no sense of anything except the feeling of her; how much he'd been torn apart with this longing so deep he couldn't name it or begin to satisfy it…except with Kara.
Massaging her breasts in his hands, he kept up the rapid thrusting, unable to focus on more than what his release would feel like. A hand gliding against her neck, Lee pulled her head towards him, kissing her deeply as his moved against her body and used his fingers to stimulate her over the brink. She came a second time, in loud gasps, her face pressed against his, her arm now wrapped behind his neck.
He kept thrusting. "Kara, have to come, have…no one else ever like this…" he felt himself empty into her, groaning like an animal as he continued driving, letting the orgasm stretch out, hunger still there. He had climaxed, and a few minutes later, he was still hard and sliding into her; his need was so overpowering, he couldn't stop, couldn't get enough of Kara.
She stilled his movement and lifted off of him; he growled in desperation. "No, Kara, no…need more…"
A soon as she was facing Lee, he felt her grab him and guide him inside again. "I know…feel the same…Gods, Lee, what are we going to do?" She was panting in his ear, but the question was more plaintive than teasing. Her voice was thick with unexpressed feelings. He started moving with her recklessly, the desire insatiable. "Kara, I…I missed you so much…still lost without…" He stopped as she captured him in a deep kiss. Then their eyes met fully, for the first time since they'd seen each other that day; he could read the pain and questioning in her green depths. And love…yes, still there, still so intense for both of them. He felt tears sting behind his eyes. Lee looked way; it was too much to bear. He wasn't sure if he could walk away from her as it was, and…
She shifted her weight, and Lee gasped as he felt himself move deeper. He put a hand around her waist, letting his other hand play with her, twisting her pulsing clit. He felt his own surge building; he pushed her back into the opposite wall, ramming towards climax, all awareness gone. She stifled a cry as the brick scraped her back; she was shattering around him, heat pulsing. "Kara…I love you, Kara…" he almost sobbed as he was coming the second time. His balls tightened painfully; this climax was more potent, and he threw his head back in an altered state as he filled her again.
They leaned heavily against each other, breathing shallowly. He pulled her slightly upright, brushing her hair away before kissing her, with a tenderness he hadn't been sure he could still find in himself. The sound of voices in the distance shook them out of their trance; both reached quickly to pull up their underclothes and flight suits. Tying the arms around the waist, it was possible to at least appear normal, should someone come upon them now.
Kara grabbed Lee's face with her hands. "Lee, what…I'm so confused…help me understand. I'm supposed to…to marry Zak…in six weeks…"
Lee stepped away from her, coldness seeping into his pores as he realized what he had to do now to fix this. "I know…I seem to remember you kissing me to kick this thing into high gear—"
That's not the frakkin' point, Adama. You said…"
"I know godsdamned well what I said, Thrace. And it was the heat of the moment, okay? That's all. You can move forward with your happy life, trust me." Lee was filled with anger; he was still damaged goods; nothing had changed. He wanted so much for it to all be different…
But it couldn't be. Ever.
"Why are you lying? That was more than 'heat of the moment.' Those words are on the tip of your tongue each time we…we do this." He flinched at the torment in her voice, but turned to look straight at her, letting his fury mask everything else dying inside as he spoke the lie again.
"Think what you want, Thrace; I'm not much further along than the last time we had this conversation. Hell, if you talk to Muskrat, I'm worse. And you're in love with my brother, remember? You chose him a long time ago, when you thought I was dead, and it would be better if we just maintained the distance we've kept over the past three years. It's more familiar than…"
"Than what just happened? Familiar, yes; the right path…"
"It is the right path. I don't believe in the gods, Kara, and I'm not tortured about some destiny we're missing. I am horrified by the idea of destroying anything in my brother's life, a person better than the both of us put together. This was a mistake…and that's all it was."
The hurt from Kara was palpable, but Lee forced himself to begin walking away, back towards the main lockers for the pilots. He stopped, though, turning back once. She was standing there, sunglasses back on, unreadable.
"Thanks for the help, Starbuck. With a little luck, I'll be moving to Picon in two week. I'll be out of your hair for good."
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Sit Rep (past): Picon and Caprica City, Seven Months after Apollo's return
Lee was in bed with a woman named Judy. He'd actually picked her up at a bar, instead of calling an escort service; she had short blond hair and a sassy attitude that physically aroused him, at least, despite his normal prohibition against blondes. He wasn't aware of Judy as a person anyway, and knew it wasn't possible. He just wanted someone to frak while he imagined he was actually inside Kara. The women he bedded rarely complained; he was sure to satisfy them as he played out his fantasies. Invariably, though, he'd slip, and say Kara's name out loud, which cut several evenings short. The escort service women had been easier because they didn't care if he called them someone else. Still, if he limited his liquor, like tonight, he could control his words enough to make the illusion work for both of them, and he always went to the woman's place, so he could slip out afterward and not have to deal with any other pretense.
Lee had just settled into a small apartment on Picon and found test flying to be a relief, if nothing else. He'd already impressed the other pilots since his arrival, and the engineers were beginning to salivate with thoughts of what they could build for him try out next.
In the first three weeks, Lee had made two emergency landings, with the full fire and medical crews called out to the tarmac. Both times, he walked away without a scratch. The others on base were already calling him the new "deathman," a term reserved for those pilots who lived on the extreme edge, risking their lives for test flying on a consistent basis. Lee was certain, when that news reached his father's ears, he'd be quite displeased; in Lee's book, that only increased the enjoyment of it.
The evenings were harder. Lee couldn't drink on weeknights, because of the job, and he wished there were other escapes besides sex he could try. He went out with the other test jocks a couple of times, to play cards, but it wasn't enough to hold his attention, and he fidgeted endlessly until it was time to leave. So he went back to his other favorite method of distraction: exercising to exhaustion. Except now, he was careful to make it back to his apartment, so the rumors about his strange habits wouldn't start up again here. No sense risking his assignment simply because he was completely and permanently frakked in the head.
Lee and Judy had just finished their first round of sex when his mobile phone went off. He jumped; the phone rarely rang, and no one usually tried him at this time of night.
It was the Commander on Watch; he needed Lee to come over to the main building, right away. Panic filled Lee's heart; he knew it could only mean someone had very bad news to deliver to him, in person. Making his excuses to Judy, Lee took a quick shower, then drove quickly to the base.
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The Commander walked into the room, and sat down with Lee as he delivered the devastating facts: there had been an accident where Zak's plane collided with another mid-air, killing both pilots. Lee needed to travel home right away. William Adama would pick Lee up at the Academy air field to take him to his mother's house. While normally the military would use a non-FTL transport, the Commander was authorizing a raptor with FTL be used for this trip, saving nearly a day's travel.
Lee couldn't move after the Commander finished with the short list of details as he fought for a basic sense of reality. It didn't seem plausible. Zak was getting married in two weeks. He couldn't be dead. Lee had survived battles and crashes and injuries; surely Zak, the one with so much goodness and promise, would make it through any calamity.
And if Zak was dead, it meant his relationship with his father was now over, because this was his father's doing. He should never have pushed the committee, never made those calls to get Zak accepted into the new compressed flight training program Kara had designed. Tom had been the one to share that piece of information with Lee, during one of their exercise sessions; he didn't think anyone knew about Commander Adama's influence, but thought Lee should be aware of the facts, in case there were rumors later about Zak's qualifications.
Zak had only passed basic flight a week ago; Lee hadn't traveled to Caprica for the event, since he couldn't take time off from his new job.
I should have gone…should have seen for myself…
Lee was consumed by guilt. The Commander's hand on Lee's shoulder pulled him out of himself momentarily. "Captain, I realize how…painful this must be, but you need to get your things together for the transport. It leaves in an hour. I've arranged for my driver to take you back to your apartment, to make things easier."
Lee could only nod slightly as he stood up. His legs felt like dead weight under him; it was arduous to move towards the door. As he stepped towards the waiting car, Lee turned to shake the Commander's hand and thank him for his thoughtfulness. He used as few words as possible, because talking seemed inadequate and frustrating. His tongue was clumsy against his teeth; it was simpler to rely on gestures to get through the next few hours.
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For two days, Lee dutifully played his part: grieving brother, supportive son, consoling friend. He was almost absent of any emotion; it was a control he'd mastered, a state he could maintain with relative ease. Lee promised himself that would change, once he returned to Picon. He was the surviving Adama son now, and he could best honor Zak's memory by becoming more of the person his brother used to admire.
Lee had to mature; it was time. He could put Kara behind him, offer skills of value to the military, make something of his life. And even if he couldn't—didn't—establish emotional intimacy, he could still learn to be kind again, learn to pay attention to the needs of others. The coldness in his personality didn't have to become permanent, not if Lee wanted to change.
Apollo vowed to make amends with the people from his past, save one: William Adama. Even though Lee recognized, deep down, Zak would want him to forgive their father, the anger was too great to overcome. Perhaps that was an excuse; maybe Lee just wanted a place for his trusty companion of resentment to continue to reside. He practically vibrated with long-seated fury, and it ensured he put one foot in front of the other, when nothing else worked.
So Lee would channel the rage towards his father, keep it contained to one area of his life he was able to control. There was no need to see William Adama now, not after this loss, and residence on Picon ensured Lee could direct his anger towards his target with impunity. There would be no confrontations or conversations to change the dynamic beyond the funeral.
A somber reception at his mother's house was planned after the burial; Lee determined that was the best time to make apologies, where he could, before he headed back to Picon. First Lee approached Tom Warren. It was a surprisingly good conversation, with Tom readily welcoming back his friend. The even promised to talk more regularly in the future. Throughout the discussion, Lee could see Tom's eyes dart to Kara and back to him; he wanted, even now, to try to help Lee gain closure with her.
"Tom, you're a better friend than I've ever deserved, and I can see what's on your mind."
"I…gods, we don't need any more tensions over that subject, Apollo. It's only…."
"I'm going to talk to her, Tom, I promise. It's the least I can do. I expect it will be the last time I see her and I really want to let go of that past. I pledge to you—no more monster running my life."
"Does that mean no more, you know, paid companionship?"
"Yeah, Musket, that's what it means. I'm not sure I'm cut out for a romantic relationship with marriage and kids and growing old with someone, but I'm going to try to at least establish a genuine connection with someone again."
"You might consider easing up on the 'deathman' stunts too. You've been giving your mother high blood pressure with that."
"The news travels that fast?"
"Uh-huh. They're all worried, honestly, especially…"
"Especially now, since I'm the only—" Lee choked on the words.
Tom moved to embrace Lee briefly; it kept him from breaking into tears. Lee didn't want to have a public breakdown…he needed to support his mother, not cause additional concern.
"Hey, Kara's alone right now. This might be a good time to approach her." Lee nodded. "Good luck, Apollo. Call me next week, okay?"
"I promise, Tom. Thank you for…for everything you've done. I've never properly shared how much you've meant to me, and I…you're a special friend."
"So are you, Lee Adama. Talk to you soon." Tom smiled softly as he walked off; Lee walked towards Kara Thrace.
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"Hello, Kara." Lee was standing in front of her, admiring her carriage; in the face of so much grief, Kara was still self-possessed and captivating.
Kara jumped slightly at his voice. They'd spoken very little in the course of the last few days, and she'd almost come to expect they wouldn't have a real conversation. It was simply too difficult, too complicated.
Lee held out his hand. "Care to take a step outside? The fresh night air might feel good, and I wanted…I'd like to share something with you."
Kara stood, taking his arm. They stepped onto the back patio; there was a table off to one side where no one was sitting, and they made their way toward it.
For a few minutes, neither said anything. Then Lee cleared his throat, knowing he had to have some courage and make amends as best he could.
"I should have apologized to you some time ago, Kara, and I regret my lack of backbone and maturity." He paused, making sure he thought she was ready for him to continue along the same lines.
"I'm very sorry for what happened back at the cabins. I'm grateful, have been grateful for a long time, to know you understood how it might have developed, even if the outcome was unforgivable. I did work with a PTSD counselor and I've taken action to ensure I never, um, endanger anyone else that way." Lee felt like wincing at how cool and detached his words sounded, as if he were talking about someone else. Gods knew what Kara made of them.
Not much, given how clipped her own response was. "I'm glad you found some help." Lee sensed she wanted to say more, but she was keeping a tight rein over her words and expressions.
"I'm also sorry for what took place…that day at the air field. What I said afterward. I was…I shouldn't have tried to push you away, not that way. I couldn't…I wasn't able to get past certain things, and I owed you, owed Zak, more. I should have shown more restraint, not let my needs…drive things."
"I was equally responsible for that day. I've always wanted to let you know I regretted putting you in that…position."
Lee dared to look into her eyes; they were full with tears. "It seems I'm always making you cry, Kara Thrace. You need to know…I won't do it any more. I wanted to make amends, so we can have a clean break from—"
"From each other. It's time, I suppose." Kara stared back at Lee, and he thought he saw…she wasn't convinced of her own words. Then again, neither was he. Lee was as drawn to Kara as he'd been from the day he first saw her; that hadn't lessened over time, regardless of the events occurring in between. But he believed their only salvation—given the myriad ways they'd hurt each other, and Zak's death—lay in closing that door between them for good. It was the only viable solution left to them.
"So, this is it, huh? This is where we part ways." Kara was trembling slightly, and Lee felt the overwhelming urge to sweep her into his arms, holding fast, though he understood he had to accept those impulses were about to become things of the past.
"Think so. I'll always…want the most for you, Kara, your fulfillment in life. Please remember that."
She nodded. "Same back at you, Lee Adama."
Lee stood up. He wasn't sure how to actually close the conversation, and if he continued to look in those eyes, watch that face, he might lose his resolve after all.
"Wait, Lee. Before you go, you need you to hear something from me. I didn't want…I thought I should tell you directly."
He went still, wondering what she was going to reveal. "Your father…he offered me a pilot position on the Galactica, and I accepted."
Shocked, Lee sat back down. He wanted to shake her by the shoulders. What would posses her to do such a thing? He understood, though, he had no right to pass judgment on her choice. They weren't going to see each other again anyway, and this news just ensured he could stick to his promise.
"Oh. If you wanted that, then I'm glad it's happening. Honestly. He'll…you'll be in good hands on that battlestar, Kara. William Adama's considered a strong leader; his crew worships him."
Kara smiled, even as tears finally rolled down her cheeks. "That's kind of you to say, Lee, given everything."
"You'll be a great asset, Kara." She looked down at the ground, unable to figure out a response worth uttering. The tears continued to fall, and Lee thought he saw her fists grip tightly, as though she was willing herself to stay in control, not shift into actual sobbing.
Lee stood up a second time. "So, I guess…"
Kara moved rapidly, her arms suddenly around him. Lee pulled her tightly to his chest, allowed himself to revel in the feel of her against him one more time as his arms enveloped her. He started whispering in her ear, compelled to share one more private facet of himself with her alone. "I wanted…there was a piece of writing that I was going to…I was too nervous, before, to read it to you, but now…"
Kara turned her head against Lee's neck, squeezing him to signal she wanted to hear it. Lee leaned in, pressing his cheek against her hair, letting his words reverberate in his chest.
"There's a letter on the desktop, that I dug out of a drawer; the last truce we ever came to in our adolescent war. And I start to feel the fever, from the warm air through the screen…you come regular like seasons, shadowing my dreams.
The river is mighty, but it starts out as a creek you that could walk across with five steps down; and I guess that's how you started, like a pinprick to my heart…but at this point you rush right through me, and I start to drown.
And there's not enough room in this world for my pain. Signals cross and love gets lost and time passed makes it plain. Of all my demon spirits, I need you the most—I'm in love with your ghost.
Dark and dangerous, like a secret that gets whispered in a hush, when I wake, the things I dreamt about you last night make me blush. You kiss me like a lover, then you sting me like a viper; I go follow to the river, play your memory like a piper.
I feel it like a sickness, how this love is killing me. Still, I'd walk into the fingers of your fire willingly. And dance the edge of sanity—I've never been this close—I'm in love with your ghost.
Unknowing captor, you'll never know how much you pierce my spirit, but I can't touch you…can you hear it, a cry to be free? I'm forever under lock and key, as you pass through me.
Now I see your face before me, I would launch a thousand ships, to bring your heart back to my island, as the sand beneath me slips. As I burn up in your presence, and I know now how it feels, to be weakened like Achilles, with you always at my heels.
This bitter pill I swallow is the silence that I keep. It poisons me, I can't swim free, the river is too deep. Though I'm baptized by your touch, I am no worse than most, in love with your ghost. You shadow my dreams."
Lee felt Kara's legs buckle, and instantly regretted sharing the poem with her; it was too much, too personal. She began sobbing, her whole body pressed into his own, and he felt his tears fall against her hair as his heart tightened.
Finally, she looked up at him, head still resting in the crook of his neck. "You…you wrote that?"
Lee nodded slightly in affirmation, as his tears splashed her face. "I…it's about you and…and the loss…of Zak." The last word was mumbled, lips clumsy with the lie, and he cringed; was he already breaking his promises almost as soon as they had been made? She had to know it wasn't about…
Her lips moved near his, parted and wanting. He bent forward a little more…a little more…She closed the gap, sighing as their mouths touched. The kiss was sweet and gentle; it was about love alone. Lee felt her hands slip deep into his hair, and he cradled her body against him, tilting her backward. He lost awareness of time, until he felt her arms gently pushing them up again.
Kara stepped back, wiping tears from her face and resting a hand against her lips.
"Did you…is there a document…a copy of that? I'd like to…since we won't be talking any more…"
Lee held his breath. "I did bring a written copy, Kara. I'm…honored you would want to…keep it."
"I would." Lee handed her the page from his pant's pocket.
Looking at the ground, Kara tried to compose herself. "You'd probably better go now, Lee; I'm sure someone's looking for you." Lee acknowledged her words, even though every cell in his body seemed to be screaming he was making a mistake. He'd been so certain this was the most sensible path to follow, given their history, but something felt so horribly wrong as he was making it final and real.
Kara turned her body away from him; he had no choice but to will his legs to move. He was careful not to look back. He retired to his room as soon as he could feasibly make an escape that night, and caught the next transport back to Picon in the morning.
A/N: "Poem" is actually full lyrics from Ghost, by the Indigo Girls
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Reviews appreciated. Please note this is Part A of Chapter 11; Part B immediately follows.
