Portraits of a Marriage: Charcoal Sketches
Her first time back in the Viper since her rescue from New Caprica was certainly one for the books. She managed to not only fall out of formation and miss her target, but also managed to ram her fraking plane into Kat's. All in the space of five minutes into the eval. Lee was not pleased and made it clearly known once they were taxied back to the Flight Deck.
"If you want to get yourself killed, do it without destroying one of my planes!"
In all their years of marriage, they'd had plenty of shouting matches over every conceivable issue, large and small. This was however the first time it didn't lead to them tearing each other's clothes off. For one thing, it would have been impractical given they were both in their flight suits; the damned things were tough to get into and out of quickly. That they were in full view of the gods and everyone else on the flight deck, and gathering more attention by the second, was a distant second consideration. Plus it was unlikely the Old Man would accept the excuse they were engaging in some 'morale boosting' if they…well…
Kara heard herself muttering something vaguely apologetic, vaguely conciliatory, and still more vaguely like her usual saucy comeback. Her CAG stared at her for a full minute, and then grabbed her arm the way parents do misbehaving children; he pulled her off the deck with a clear yell of "Life Station, now!" The crew thought they knew the score between the CAG and his problem pilot, at least well enough to think they understood what they were seeing.
Both the CAG and the pilot knew different. Just how different proved as much a surprise to Starbuck as it would have everyone else. Oh, him waylaying her into the nearest available storage closet, that was SOP. She'd caught enough of the crew on both Galactica and Pegasus doing the same, and being caught in turn. It seemed for the longest time as if the only clueless one was the Old Man. More the fool them.
It wasn't even that much of a surprise when he propelled her inside with an almighty shove. One hard enough that she stumbled and lost her footing. It wasn't the first time she'd ended up on her knees before her husband, so it didn't bother her as it probably should have.
No, what made this…encounter…stand out so was what he said immediately after dogging the hatch behind him:
"Okay. Hit me."
Starbuck could only stare, eyes hooded and poorly concealing her confusion. Apollo did not relent however, taking a threatening step closer. "C'mon, Kara. Hit. Me."
"Are you out of your fraking mind?" she hissed in response.
"Are you out of your frakkin' mind?" Apollo mimicked, tone and sneer the sort normally reserved for playground taunts. "You know you want to."
Did she want to hit him? Sure, he'd made her crazy enough over the years they'd danced in (and out of) the ring. But actual violence? Against him? Kara couldn't think of a single instance where she'd wanted to slam him for any reason; even his public dressing downs were more a turn-on than anything else. She didn't want to even think why she found…used to find him tying her to the bed so damned fun.
But here he was, telling her to hit him. He was taunting her to do it even, as if that'd work any better. She was sorely tempted to demand what the frak was that about…except she already knew what it was about, and almost sighed in pity. Kara knew her husband better than any other soul and could see his plan here clear as day. It was like that upset right after Shaw blew herself and the old Guardian basestar up – his "rape" of her coming out of the shower – and it underlined one his most annoying traits: an egocentric guilt complex the size of the Twelve Colonies.
His mother, her mother, Zak, shooting down the Olympic Carrier, spacing those lunatics on the Astral Queen, Flat Top getting himself blown up on the deck, her getting shot down over that moon, her getting locked in that 'farm' on Caprica, them getting lost for a day and night on Kobol, and every other godsdamned disaster they'd endured since the end of the worlds; Lee took personal responsibility for all of it, or at least acted so. It was so egotistical as to be pure hubris, and it pissed Kara off no end, mostly because it just demonstrated how human Lee was and therefore as imperfect as her and the Old Man.
And she could see that same guilt overwhelming him right now. She could also see the modest scar on his left cheek from when she'd attacked him in Life Station, and it confused her no end why he wasn't attacking her. Hades' black balls, he'd barely touched her since they'd escaped New Caprica, managing to find one and a dozen excuses to not be in the same room with her for any length. He'd even gone so far to sleep on the floor or in the SPQ, leaving the bed and everything else in our used-to-be-storage-closet private quarters to her alone.
Perhaps he'd been too disturbed by her newfound tendency to sleep nude, kicking the covers completely off the mattress and lying flat on her back, arms and legs straight like she was restrained. Or he just couldn't take how she had yet to get back into the swing of life on Galactica, basically hiding in their quarters the whole flipping day, eating only when he brought her meals. He'd found her in all states of undress, staring at the walls or organizing and disorganizing the room, sometimes watching but never approaching. By rights she should have been packed off to solitary as it was clear she was useless for pretty much everything, or so the on-going absence of the Old Man and Tigh indicated; neither had been the least shy in the past about straightening her out by kicking her in the ass (sometimes literally).
Being put in this re-evaluation flight had been…unexpected, to say the least: Lee had just shown up that morning after she'd eaten breakfast, thrown her flight suit and helmet to her, and said, "Wheels up in twenty, Starbuck." They'd even put her in one of the newer-looking Mark VIIs, probably the last one off the Pegasus production lines before Lee flew her into the furnace.
Well, her performance must've been one for the books. She'd recall later seeing that even the Old Man had come down to watch Lee chew her a new one, although he kept to the background right then.
Lee's taunting pulled her attention back to the present. "Anders said they found you in an apartment. Guess current digs aren't up your new standards, huh?"
As taunts went, this one was wordier than most, which almost ruined the effect Lee must've been shooting for. It was the tone that was getting to her, more than the words; she'd used the same trick on him a few times, so turnabout was fair play here. Having no idea how to respond, Kara did the sensible thing and kept her trap shut.
This apparently was what Lee was expecting, and he pressed his verbal attack. "Anders also said they found you stark naked. Guess…"
That got a reaction, and a hot one to boot. "Don't! Don't even…"
"Even what, Kara? Even suggest you're…" The implication and the word went unspoken; it didn't need to be to hang between them.
"I'm not a whore!" Kara was in no mood or mind to be rational about this; else, she'd have seen how badly she'd misjudged her husband's actions.
But then, Lee what said next pretty much guaranteed she wouldn't be thinking straight. "There were at least twenty pilots and staff in Delphi who'll say different."
Kara blinked once, twice…then completely lost all reason and charged.
It was the first time Lee had so much as hinted he knew anything about those miserable 250 days between their encounter in the elevator and That Night on Tauron. He'd only learned of it through 'tavern talk' one night while the Triton was in airdock over Leonis, several of his fellow pilots simultaneously boasting of having bedded the legendary Starbuck. The only thing that saved the fools was the crush of bodies between them and Lee himself, which was fortunate as the aforementioned fools started filling in the context.
As soon as they started comparing, then arguing over dates and locations, it deflated his fury significantly as he worked out the timeline. This had the additional (and to Lee's mind supremely beneficial) effect of neutralizing many of those same stories, the idiots getting their times and places so jumbled so as to contradict each other, and therefore to be dismissed as so much idle boasting.
Not that Lee was left unaffected by it. Truthfully, it infuriated him no end that Kara had been that despairing that she'd traded herself so poorly. He'd been more incised with himself for not seeking alternate lines of communication than her (non-existent) office phone during that whole time, and partially explained his…volcanic tendencies with her. He had been such a fraking coward in those days, and Kara had paid for it in ways he didn't like thinking about. It was likely he was overcompensating a bit.
Okay, more than "a bit". Their first session in a storage closet here, right after the Olympic Carrier, should have been a clue things were askew between them. After all, what kind of husband tries to deliberately scar his wife?
Then again, what kind of wife leaves deep bite-marks on her husband's scrotum?
Things like this should have occurred to Lee, but were lost amid the crush and rush of the war. Even his transfer and promotion to Pegasus hadn't afforded him time or space to ponder their marriage, and he was honest enough with himself to admit part of this was simple avoidance, the possibilities he was more like his father or worse too forefront to face.
But then, who in their right mind would object to being given such free access to the body Kara Thrace? And truthfully, there was that uniquely male part of him that liked her having equally free access to him. Small wonder they'd developed some shade of emotional dependence, for lack of a better term.
No one seemed to appreciate just how close he'd come to cracking during her imprisonment on New Caprica, or how much he was teetering on the same precipice now. He'd forced himself to watch passively while she faded in and out, wandered about their quarters and nighttime halls like a ghost, too much the coward and fool to step forward. To be fair, he had no idea how to proceed with her and was terrified of making the wrong move.
When he wasn't keeping Kara in personal LOS or ensuring she was under reliable watch, Lee kept up with reorganizing their combined air wing, but this occupied very little of his head space. Most of it was taken up with trying to divine what had happened to his wife after he'd abandoned her, if only for some clue as to the way forward. He'd pressed Anders for every detail possible about the complex she'd been held in and what he'd seen in the retrieval. The ex-jock had seen more than he realized, and the picture he painted – combined with Kara's condition upon rescue – was the very definition of inhuman.
Cottle had rattled off the ingredients of the chemical cocktail the Cylons had apparently been feeding her, Lee recognizing some as potent hallucinogens. His own queries had been limited to whether there was any detectible internal damage and how soon the CMO thought the crap would cycle out of her system; anyone listening would have thought he was merely worried about getting his lead pilot back. That poison must've lingered longer than they'd thought, given how she'd attacked him upon awaking. Lee couldn't remember much of what happened afterwards and did feel particularly bothered by this.
Watching Kara lie still as a board when she slept, or thoughtlessly wander about was more than enough to scare the crap out of him.
The Admiral had understood, overly so Lee thought. He'd assigned them private quarters immediately, directed him to see to the air wing, but otherwise kept out of it. He kept out of sight completely, if truth be told. The Bucket's hallways were always crowded almost beyond capacity; Lee might have thought the Old Man was actively avoiding them all.
So Lee marked the days, hoping and praying Kara would recover herself somehow. He couldn't quite bring himself to touch her yet; something in her now-etheric manner convincing him she'd literally crumble to dust if he did. He certainly couldn't sleep in the same bed, not when she was lying still and stiff, apparently expecting to be…violated. That left him catnapping (you couldn't call it real sleep) on the floor, which felt like it was royally fraking up his spine.
Patience, unfortunately, wasn't cutting it. If anything, Kara's daytime absence and nighttime wanderings were getting noticed by entirely too many people. None of the pilots or knuckledraggers had approached him about this yet, but he'd heard plenty of whispers bouncing off the deck plates; nothing he need to attend to personally, but he knew it was only a matter of time before some ill-timed comment reached him or his father. Lee really didn't want to see how the Admiral would react to such talk; his own reactions were likely to be bad to the point of criminal.
Trouble there was, again, he hadn't the foggiest idea how to safely proceed with…whatever…he was going to do. What he wanted to do was take advantage of the unsettling-yet-strangely-inviting pose she adopted when she slept, which was just too fraked up for words. Their mutual forays into the bacchanalia fringe were one thing, but given neither of them were in their right minds, Lee wasn't prepared to risk giving into that particular urge, certainly not until Kara herself was in a state of mind to actually enjoy it.
Ironically, pondering in that slightly self-destructive vein delivered unto him what was (hopefully) the path that would bring Kara home. Or, alternately, get him killed. Either option would have served adequately right then.
24 hours later he had her back in the air, ostensibly for an evaluation for her reinstatement to flight status. He'd planned on washing her out ahead of time over any of a thousand small infractions involved in her idea of piloting. He'd planned to declare her unfit for flight, walk away, wait for her back in their quarters – likely after she'd built up a good head of steam - and let the fighter that still lurked within her (the scar on his cheek was evidence enough of that) to emerge and drag the rest of his wife out with it. Sure he might be sucking his meals through a straw for the next few moons, but to have his Kara back was easily worth the price.
What he didn't anticipate was her fraking up so spectacularly all on her own, or rediscovering just how ingrained the role of CAG had become within himself. His dressing her down on the flight deck hadn't been just for show, and the words had flowed out of his mouth without thought, rage at her recklessness this time (which upon reflection was a whole different sort from the kind of abandon she normally operated with) making him momentarily forget his plan.
Thankfully catching sight of his father, staring down on them from the walkway, was enough to shake him out of it. The Old Man didn't need to see Kara like this; the rest of the crew could frak themselves, but the Old Man was family. Lee evacuated them to the nearest available storage closet and summoned the storm as best he could.
Hence the playground taunts.
Hence letting slip he knew about that time.
Hence letting her take the first punch. And the second.
And the third.
He started punching back at the fourth, because he needed at least one eye not swollen shut, if just to see the status board with.
She was a wild animal at that point, clawing and snapping while trying to get a good grip on his throat with her teeth, and Lee responded in kind, as he gave vent to weeks of frustration and fury. Kara managed to make a few tears into his flight suit, got in a good couple body shots, her knee even connecting with his groin twice. Lee barely noticed, as he was equally focused upon practically throwing her into the nearest wall or pulling both those strong arms out of their sockets to use a clubs.
It was a display of some of the most primal urges lurking within any human. That it was the two of them simply made it more elemental.
They emerged eight hours later. Exhaustion had driven them to twice take a break from attempting to break bones, but as always their respective energies fed one another and their dance of pain had proceeded nonstop. They hadn't exchanged a word longer than five letters the whole time, their screeching and snarling surely warning everyone away. Even normally overprotective Helo seemed to be keeping a distance.
Not that either of them made an inviting sight as they made their way slowly toward Life Station. Kara had to keep hold of Lee, who was clearly having significant trouble walking, while she herself was limping and sporting what looked like a dislocated shoulder. Their flight suits were ruined and bloodied, and both their faces a most fascinating collection of welts and bruises. Small wonder they were afforded such a wide berth in the corridors.
Cottle was decidedly unsurprised to see them, and made his displeasure at the damage they'd managed to inflict on one another clear as day, examining them separately without the least grace. Lee proved slightly worse than Kara, given that he had allowed her a head start. Both were sufficiently ambulatory, so Cottle willingly released them to their quarters; more likely, because he was sure another explosion was in the offing and wasn't interested in cleaning blood off the floor. The CMO was funny like that.
Kara again wrapped his arm around her shoulders and helped him back to their home. Lee did his game best to carry his own weight, but she had managed to leave deep bruises in very tender areas that would take time to heal. Besides, any touch with Kara was welcome, no matter the pretext.
She refused to let go even after they'd made it to their quarters, half dragging him and releasing him to fall face-first on the bed he'd all but abandoned. Lee couldn't quite mute the cry of distress caused by his unceremonious fall, and he tasted blood from where he bit his lip. By the time he managed to sit up and slip off the remains of his flight suit, Kara had already doffed her own and climbed in beside him. Lee took a single, shuddery breath and prepared to move off.
"I will kill you if you get out of this bed." Her words were soft and slurred (fractured jaws tend to do that), but clear all the same. Not being a fool, Lee settled back down onto his back.
"Don't…touch me for awhile, 'kay?" She'd rolled onto her side, brought her knees up to her chest, and looked about as relaxed as an overstretched rubber band.
Lee however kept his hands to himself; eyes fixed on the pipes in the ceiling overhead, and waited for sleep to come to them. It proved less of a wait than expected, and for all the crap that he'd have to answer for when he woke up, it was welcome.
His Kara had made her first step back to him, and that made everything in the universe right.
Fin.
De Author Seez: reviews? Please?