Chapter Thirty-Six
Another morning, another briefing. Kara scrubbed at her forehead, as if that could erase the headache the coffee she had gulped down a few minutes ago hadn't managed to dispel. She shouldn't have started that second bottle of the Chief's home brew last night.
She took a deep breath, straightened her jacket, and walked into the briefing room, trying to settle her CAG mask firmly into place.
She couldn't prevent her eyes straying to Beano's empty seat. Poor bastard. He'd barely been out of flight training. And now Pegasus had sent her two more nuggets; wide-eyed, attentive faces staring at her from the back row. More easy pickings for Scar. Gods, what were their names again? They all seemed to blur into one, recently. She looked down at her scrawled roster. BB and Jojo, that was it.
She suddenly realised the briefing room was unusually quiet. She looked up from her papers, and saw that everyone was looking at her oddly. And they were all still standing. Why were they all still standing?
Because you forgot to put them at ease, you fool. Just stood here staring at your papers instead.
"At ease," she said sharply, covering her embarrassment. Everyone sat down, some still looking at her curiously. She glimpsed Helo in the front row, watching her with concern, and Kat smirking next to him.
"Let's review the tactical situation," she said, trying to get her thoughts in order. "Four weeks ago, our mining ships struck pay dirt on this asteroid. A pile of strategic metals that we need to build new ships. Our job is to protect the miners. Unfortunately, this star system is full of rocks and dust. Dradis cannot tell the rocks from the bad guys, so our only reliable system of detection is-"
"Our eyeballs," finished Kat. Kara bit her lip, irritated at the interruption. Kat was getting entirely too big for her boots lately.
She ignored Kat and carried on. "Which means we have to put those eyeballs way out there. Split up and cover a huge perimeter. We'll be patrolling the area in divisions of four at these picket points."
Kat raised her hand.
"What is it, Katraine?" Gods, her head was throbbing. "Something you don't understand?"
"We're going in divisions of twos."
Kara glared at her. "What, you think you're planning the ops now?" she asked caustically.
She expected that to silence the younger woman, but Kat stared stubbornly back at her. She must being losing her touch.
"No. You are. You want us to go in twos now, spread out to cover a wider area. It's right there in your briefing notes," Kat finished in an innocent tone wholly at odds with the insolence in her eyes.
Kara looked down at her papers. Dammit, Kat was right. It was in her briefing notes. She remembered making the change now. A wave of humiliation hit her. Gods, she must look like a complete idiot.
The sound of a muffled snicker cut through her embarrassment, and Kara lifted her head defiantly, determined to brazen it out. She wasn't going to let these kids get to her.
"Okay, so we go in divisions of two," she said briskly, and finished the briefing as quickly as she could, forcing herself to concentrate.
She knew she hadn't managed to gloss over her error entirely; the uncertain looks several pilots gave her as they left told her that, but she didn't have the energy to care. Her head was still pounding.
"Kara?" She looked up to see Helo hovering in front of her. "You okay?"
"Yeah." She gave him her best fake smile. "Stupid slip-up, wasn't it? Happens to the best of us. I've got a bad headache, that's all."
Helo didn't smile back. "You seem to have a lot of those recently."
Kara's smile vanished. She knew what his next comment was going to be, and she didn't want to hear it. "I have to go, Lieutenant. I've got a meeting with the XO." She picked up her papers and brushed past him before he had a chance to answer.
She heard him sigh heavily as she left the room, and scowled. What the hell was he fussing about? Okay, so maybe she was a little hungover, and maybe it wasn't the first time. But she was still doing her job. It was none of his business.
----
"How much longer is this going to take?"
Dr Seton looked at Lee with surprise. "In a hurry, are we?"
Lee shrugged awkwardly. "It just seems to be taking a long time, that's all."
The doctor smiled at him. "Actually, you're making good progress."
But not fast enough, Lee thought with frustration. Not when Scar was out there, taking out pilots one by one. Every time someone failed to return from CAP he felt incredibly guilty. He should be out there, sharing the danger with them. He had to conquer his problems and get flight clearance as soon as possible.
"You said part of the treatment was to confront the situation that brought on my panic attacks. We haven't started that yet."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not sure you're ready for it." Dr Seton leaned back in her chair, watching him closely.
"I'm ready," said Lee firmly, trying to sound convincing.
"I'm not so sure."
"What makes you think that?"
"Because in all our sessions, you haven't yet told me about the original incident that started your panic attacks," Dr Seton said calmly.
Oh. That. Lee developed a sudden interest in the floor.
"Until you confront the origin of your problem, you're not going to have much success moving past it."
That made all too much sense, damn her. She was probably right; he should talk about it. But he never had before, and he could feel every muscle in his body tensing at the thought.
"Lee, relax," he heard Dr Seton say gently. "I'm not going to push you into talking about it. I can wait till you're ready."
But I can't wait, he thought. I need to get back out there, I need to help. I can't let everyone else down just because I'm afraid.
"I'm ready now," he said, taking a long breath.
"Are you sure?"
He looked up to find her watching him with concern, and forced himself to nod. "I'm sure."
"Very well. Why don't I make some tea before you start?"
Lee nodded politely, although he resented the delay. He wanted to get this over with. But by the time she'd made the tea, he realised the period of respite had helped him. It had given him time to clear his head, to prepare himself, and he felt steadier. He had to admit Dr Seton knew what she was doing.
The doctor settled herself back in her chair and picked up her mug, blowing on the tea to cool it.
Okay. Here we go.
"I was sixteen," he began, wincing internally at how strained his voice sounded. "I'd…um…left my home on Caprica, and I was working my passage to Tauron on a freighter. The Scylla." He paused and took a sip of his tea, welcoming the warmth of the hot liquid. He didn't like thinking back to that time. He'd been so confused and unhappy, feeling guilty about leaving Zak and struggling to work out what he was going to do next. He'd never felt so alone in his life.
"It wasn't a good ship," he said bluntly. "They traded in shady cargo and a lot of the crew had done time. But it was the only ship I could get to take me, and...well, I wasn't thinking very clearly back then. I just wanted to get off Caprica and didn't care about anything else."
He stopped again, taking another sip of tea. He half expected Dr Seton to say something, but she just watched him silently.
"The rest of the crew picked on me pretty badly," he said eventually. "I was an easy target – first time away from home, never been in space before. It wasn't really anything personal, though." He tried to explain. "New crew members are always given a hard time on freighters, especially the younger ones. Playing practical jokes on them is a tradition. Hiding their clothes while they're in the head, making them look for non-existent parts or obey imaginary rules, that kind of thing. But on this ship…they went a little too far. Some of their jokes were downright dangerous."
"Such as?"
Lee bit his lip, staring down at the floor again. "They had one joke that was a particular favourite. One of them would tell the new guy that there was a repair job to do on the outer hull – a loose plate or something. They'd get in their spacesuits, go out there, and when they were in the middle of the repair the older man would get an urgent message calling him back in to deal with some problem. So he'd tell the new guy to finish the job and go in. The new guy would do the repair, head back to the hatch, and - and discover it was locked." He stopped as his throat abruptly closed up.
"A nasty trick," said Dr Seton neutrally.
"Yes." Lee closed his eyes briefly, pushing back the memories that threatened to overwhelm him. He forced himself to go on. "They thought it was incredibly funny, watching the new guy panic as he struggled to open the hatch. Of course they ignored any calls for help over the comms, pretended later they must have malfunctioned. They'd usually leave the guy out there for a few hours, until his oxygen began to run down, and then someone would pass the hatch and 'find him' and pretend to be surprised."
"And that's what happened to you."
"Kind of. Things went a bit wrong with me." Lee realised his hands had clenched into fists. "While I was out there a real crisis came up, and they forgot about me. By the time they remembered, my oxygen was almost gone and I'd passed out. Would have drifted off into space if I hadn't tethered myself to the hull. When they got me in I'd stopped breathing and they had to get a medic to resuscitate me. He said afterwards it was a close thing." He trailed off, breathing heavily. He'd tried to distance himself while telling the story, but it was hard; every word brought back memories that were all too vivid.
"How long were you out there for?" Dr Seton asked quietly.
"Six hours." He remembered every agonising minute of it.
"And that was the first time you'd ever been in a spacesuit? Or gone outside a ship?"
"Yes."
"That must have been terrifying."
The simple words made Lee choke up. He nodded, unable to speak.
"Have you ever told anyone about this before?"
He shook his head. He'd just wanted to forget that it had ever happened; and in any case, there had been no-one to tell.
"I thought I was going to die," he said.
"I'm sure you did. After that, I'm amazed that you ever put on a flightsuit or went out in space again at all." Lee looked up in surprise and found the doctor was smiling at him. "You should be very proud of yourself that you did. Here." She pressed a tissue into his hand. Lee looked at it blankly for a moment, and then realised his eyes were wet and his cheeks damp. He hadn't noticed. He wiped his face, feeling embarrassed.
"That's better," said Dr Seton briskly. "And you should finish your tea before it gets cold."
Lee obeyed automatically, picking up the mug. As he swallowed the rest of the tea he realised to his surprise that he did feel better. The incident had been a dark shadow at the back of his mind for so long; bringing it out into the open seemed to have made it smaller.
"Thank you for telling me about it," said Dr Seton as he put his empty mug back on her desk. "It's going to make it much easier for me to help you." She smiled at him. "I won't push you for more details – I think you've had enough for today – but there's one question I want to ask."
Lee nodded.
"What was the worst part about your experience? What scared you the most?"
Lee grimaced inwardly. Only one question perhaps, but a tough one. He didn't want to answer it, but he knew she wouldn't ask unless she needed to know, so he thought hard.
"I think…it was that I was helpless," he said finally. "I couldn't do anything to save myself. I tried everything I could think of to get help, and then I realised that they were deliberately ignoring me, and there was nothing to do but wait for them to change their minds and come get me. And then my oxygen started to run out, and I couldn't stop it, just watch and wait and hope someone came to help me..." He trailed off, his throat constricting again.
"I see." Dr Seton smiled at him. "It sounds as if the fear of losing control of the situation bothers you as much as the fear of suffocation."
"I suppose so," said Lee slowly. He'd never realised that before.
"Well, both fears are perfectly rational. Flying in space is dangerous; there will always be a risk that something will go wrong and you'll lose oxygen. You can't control the risk entirely. But you can learn to control your fears – to stop anticipating problems before they arise so you can deal with normal flights without panicking."
Lee nodded, thinking of that last flight and how he'd been certain he was losing oxygen even though his suit readouts had been normal.
The doctor picked up his empty mug. "Thank you, Lee. I'll let you go now."
Lee blinked at her. "That's it?" He was suddenly angry. Telling her his story had been a huge step for him, and he felt she hadn't acknowledged it.
"For today." Dr Seton stacked her papers, then looked up and smiled at him. "But for our next session, I'll be coming to Galactica. I think you're ready for the next stage of your treatment."
Lee stared at her with a mixture of relief and trepidation. "Thank you – I think."
"We'll see how you do putting on a flightsuit. And you might want to think about asking someone else to join us."
"Someone else?"
"Yes. Someone you trust. Family, or a close friend. I usually find the extra support helps my patients to relax, and it means you'll have someone you can practice with when I'm not around. I have so many patients now I can't give them all as much time as I like."
Lee frowned. "I'm not sure…" He didn't like the idea. He knew the next session was going to be tough, and he wasn't sure he wanted anyone to see him that vulnerable.
"It's a suggestion, Lee, not an order," said Dr Seton calmly. "You don't have to have anyone else there if you don't want to. But think about it."
----
Kara opened her eyes slowly. It felt like her eyelids had been glued together. Her head was throbbing, and her mouth was dry and sour.
Must have been a good night last night...she couldn't quite remember. Her mind was so fuzzy. She lifted her head and then quickly laid it back on her pillow as dark spots danced before her eyes and the world spun around her.
She stared upwards at the metal underside of the rack above, fighting to control her dizziness.
Huh. That was weird. Why was there a rack above her? Her bunk was in the top row.
Must be in somebody else's. But whose?
That question was answered as the rack's curtain was pulled back, with a screech of metal rings that made Kara close her eyes painfully. She opened them again to see Zak sitting next to her, looking at her with a mixture of concern and disapproval.
"Water?" He held out a plastic bottle, and Kara reached for it gratefully. Her tongue felt as though it had swollen to ten times its normal size.
She drained the bottle. Zak watched her silently, and guilt swelled inside her. That always seemed to happen when she saw him recently. It was one of the things she drank to escape from.
"What time is it?" she asked, handing back the empty bottle.
"0800."
Frak. She closed her eyes wearily. "I'm supposed to be on CAP in an hour." There was no way she could fly in this state.
"I know," said Zak shortly. "Helo came looking for you. He's going to find a replacement."
There was a look of contempt in his eyes. It made her feel ashamed, so she took refuge in attack.
"Lighten up, Zak. It's not like this is the first time I've missed a shift because I was hungover."
He stared at her coldly. "That was when you were a lieutenant, Kara. When we were at peace. You can't do this kind of thing now. You're the CAG. You have to set an example."
"Even the CAG's allowed to have a few drinks occasionally," she said stubbornly, even as the disappointment in his face sliced into her.
"A few drinks?" She'd rarely heard Zak sound so furious. "It was more than that, Kara. You were completely out of it. Tried to jump over a table and fell flat on your ass in front of everyone in the rec room. Then you threw up in the corner before Helo and I could get you to the head. I brought you back here because it was obvious you'd never be able to get up into your own rack. And you don't remember any of it, do you?" he finished scathingly.
She didn't, and at the moment she was glad of it. Less humiliating that way. She'd bet her last cubit that Kat had seen every minute. The girl would have a field day with this one. Kara laid her head back against the wall and wished for a moment that she could just go back to sleep and never wake up.
"You'd better hope this doesn't get back to Tigh or my father," Zak said harshly, and she was hit by a fresh wave of shame at the thought of letting the Old Man down. She'd been so determined to prove he hadn't made a mistake appointing her as CAG.
Where had that determination gone? Slipped away somewhere in the long grey months of constant attacks and endless CAPs and dead pilots...
"You should be okay this time. I covered for you, but I'm not doing it again." Zak sounded impatient. "You can't behave like this, Kara. I know these last few weeks have been tough, losing so many pilots to Scar, but-"
"Oh, you know, do you?" Anger flared, and she let it carry her away from the shame. "I don't think you do, Zak. You're not the one who has to send those kids out there, who has to clear out their lockers and speak at their memorial services."
"I've watched friends die too," he said tightly, glaring at her. "You don't have a monopoly on loss, Kara."
"But you don't go out there day after day, putting your ass on the line for a Cylon to shoot down." She knew she was being unfair, but she didn't care. "No, you stay snugly in CIC, just watching those little blips on the screen disappear-"
"That's it." Zak got to his feet abruptly. "I'm not listening to any more of this. You can find someone else to take out your mood on. I've had enough."
The last three words were like a blow to the gut. "You're going?"
Zak sighed impatiently. "What point is there in me staying? You're not going to tell me what's really bothering you, are you?" He looked down at her exasperatedly. "Are you?"
His eyes met hers challengingly, and Kara's dropped away first. She heard him laugh bitterly.
"I thought not. Gods forbid you should actually confide in me about something. That's not how you work, is it Kara?"
He fell silent for a moment. She looked up at him and the expression on his face made her flinch. It wasn't anger; she could deal with that. It was worse than that, a mixture of pity and frustration.
"Pull yourself together, Kara," he said eventually, not unkindly. "You know where I am if you decide you want to talk."
She sat absolutely still for a long time after he'd left, staring blindly at the wall.
He'd never been like this before. He'd been angry with her, yes, but never so...coldly resigned. As if he was on the verge of just walking away, of giving up on her entirely.
She'd known it would happen one day. It always did. Everyone she'd ever cared for had done it eventually, decided she was too much to cope with and given up. But even when she braced herself to expect it, it still hurt.
She closed her eyes, and wondered if the best way to cure her hangover might be to have another drink.
----
Kara was settling down for the evening in her office when Karl appeared, wanting her to come down to the rec room for a triad game.
"Come on, Kara, let's go kick these kids' asses. It'll be just like old times."
Kara thought about refusing, but she knew Karl was going through a hard time himself with Sharon still in the brig, and playing triad with him was always fun. So she picked up the bottle of Tyrol's home brew which she'd opened and let him tow her along.
Unfortunately, she'd already worked her way through a few glasses of the home brew by the time Karl had found her, so she wasn't at her most alert. Which meant that it wasn't until she sat down at the table and tossed her first counters into the pot that she realised Lee was one of the triad players.
She froze for a moment, and he must have seen it, because his mouth twisted with bitter amusement. "Evening, Starbuck."
"Apollo. Thought you were on shift?" She'd been sure he was. She wouldn't have come down here otherwise.
Lee shrugged, and tossed his own bet into the pot. "Duck asked me to swap. Any problem with that?" he asked, with a look that made Kara grind her teeth together.
"None at all," she gritted out.
Kara ignored him as much as possible, joking with Karl and teasing the nuggets, and only speaking to Lee when the game required it. She tried not to even look at him, to pretend he wasn't there.
It wasn't easy, not when he was almost constantly watching her. She could feel his eyes on her, pressurising her silently to look back at him until she wanted to scream. It was hard to resist that temptation, so hard, and she found herself biting her lip until she almost drew blood. But she wasn't going to look back, wasn't going to let him win that easily.
So she talked louder and laughed harder, as if she hadn't a care in the world, as if nothing was bothering her in the slightest. She caught Karl looking at her quizzically a few times, but he didn't comment.
After a few hours, the game began to wind down, as everyone drifted towards their racks. Finally only she and Karl were left…and Lee, still silently staring at her from across the table.
She won the hand, and Karl tossed down his cards as she pulled her winnings towards her. "That's me done for the night. I've got the early shift tomorrow." He stood, pushing back his chair and stretching. "You coming, Kara?"
She nodded, and was about to stand up when Lee's voice stopped her. "So you're going to leave me to finish up the last bottle alone? That's not like you, Starbuck."
And she looked at him.
He was smiling at her sharply as he pulled the half full bottle of home brew towards him with a slightly unsteady hand. His blue eyes met hers, bright and mocking.
"Kara, let's go," said Karl. "I think you've had enough for this evening."
She could hear the concern in his voice, but she couldn't respond to it. Couldn't look away from Lee, and the challenge clear in his face.
Stay and talk to me, Kara. I dare you.
"Kara." Karl's hand touched her shoulder. "Are you coming?"
Bring it on, Lee. We'll see who breaks first.
"No I'm not, Karl," she said, eyes still locked with Lee's. "I think I'll help Apollo finish the bottle. He'll just end up puking everywhere if he tries to drink it all himself."
She heard Karl sigh behind her, and didn't have to look to see the resigned expression on his face. "Have it your way, Kara. I'll see you tomorrow." He walked out, the hatch thudding shut behind him.
Lee poured himself a full glass and pushed the bottle towards her. "Don't worry, there won't be any puking. My head for drink is just as good as yours, Starbuck."
"Is that so?" She smiled sceptically, filling her own glass. "I haven't seen much sign of it."
He shrugged, eyes watching her intently. "That's because I don't test it out as often as you do."
Kara put her glass down with a sharp click, surprised. She hadn't expected him to start attacking so directly. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I haven't seen you spend an evening sober in the last three weeks." Lee's voice was casual, but his eyes were razor sharp.
"So you've been spending every evening watching me?" She kept her voice equally cool. "Aw, Lee, that would be sweet if it wasn't so pathetic."
A slight flush appeared in his cheeks, but he didn't rise to the bait. "I'm just concerned about you."
"Concerned? What, as a friend?" Bitterness rang through her voice.
"Yes, as a friend." Their eyes met, fierce hazel clashing with cool blue, neither giving an inch.
"Well, there's no need. I'm a big girl, Lee. I can look after myself."
"Like when you fell over that table? Or when you took that briefing hungover?"
"Shut the frak up." Her eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Do you want to end up like Tigh? Because believe me, you're well on the way to it."
"Shut up!" Kara shot to her feet, sending her chair flying in a screech of metal.
Lee looked at her clenched fists and laughed. "Go on, Kara, punch me. It won't make what I've said any less true."
"Frak you." Suddenly all the emotion she had been bottling up for the past few weeks boiled over. "Okay, Lee, so you're right. I am drinking more than usual. But did you ever stop to think about why? Or are you too busy being self-righteous?"
Lee was watching her carefully. "Go on then, Kara. Tell me why."
"Do you know how many pilots we've lost to Scar in the last few weeks?" she yelled at him. "How many funerals I've had to speak at? That kid today – BB – he was one week out of training. One week!"
"I know, Kara."
"So maybe I need something to help me forget, a few drinks to drive the faces away. Is that so wrong?"
"It's more than a few drinks, Kara."
His face was full of concern now, and that infuriated her. He had no right to look at her like that, no right…
"Well, at least it's cheaper than frakking a hooker," she shot back desperately.
Direct hit. Lee's face went completely blank for a moment.
"Point taken," he said quietly, and stood up.
The look in his eyes stabbed her in the heart, and she plummeted from fury to guilt.
"Lee, I didn't mean-" She scrambled for words. "It's just…I won't have you judging me."
He stared at her, some of the rigidity fading from his face. "I'm not judging you. I'm just worried about you. You can't keep on like this, Kara."
"Why not?" She laughed unevenly. "What does it matter? It's only a matter of time before the Cylons get me too."
He moved towards her, sympathy flooding his face. "Kara, that's not true…"
"Don't kid yourself, Lee!" she snapped, fighting against the tightness in her chest. "It's going to happen, we both know it. There are barely any pilots left now from when I took over as CAG. We just all keep on going out there, over and over again, until finally some metal motherfrakker catches us on a bad day and blows us away."
"Kara-" He sounded as if he wanted to protest, but he couldn't. He knew she was right, she could see it in his face.
"We're never going to see the President's bright shiny future on Earth."
"Bright shiny futures are over-rated anyway." Lee tried to smile, but it didn't quite come out right. "I've always preferred to live in the present."
Kara stared at him, trembling. She felt as if she was going to explode, as if all the grief and fear and anger of the last few weeks would tear her apart if she didn't find an outlet for it. "Then why don't we?"
"Why don't we what?" He looked puzzled.
"Live in the present." She closed the few inches between them and grabbed his face, pulling his mouth to hers.
His lips were stunned and rigid at first, so she pushed harder, and after a moment he gasped and surrendered and opened his mouth, kissing her back. His hands came up to grasp her shoulders, pushing her back against the edge of the table.
Kara almost moaned with relief. She'd wanted this so desperately and for so long, ever since the firing range…she hadn't realised until now what a strain it had been, trying to stay away from him, trying not to look at him or touch him when every nerve in her body was screaming with the need to do exactly the opposite…it was such exquisite relief to stop fighting and finally give in. It felt just as she remembered, fierce and dazzling and overwhelming, and above all right.
Lee was pushing against her harder now, his mouth pressing desperately over hers, digging deeper as if he couldn't get close enough. She slid her hands up under his tanks, revelling in the feel of his bare skin…
And then he pulled back. Tore his mouth away, jerked out of her arms.
Kara blinked, too dazed for a moment to react. Couldn't register anything beyond the fact that she was suddenly cold and empty again.
"Kara." She looked up slowly to see him leaning against the wall, looking as shaken as she felt. His eyes were dark and bewildered. "Kara, we can't do this."
"Yes, we can," she said desperately. She wanted him back in her arms, wanted him to touch her again and never stop. "Maybe if we just did it once, got it out of our systems…"
"It wouldn't work."
He didn't sound very certain. She took a step towards him. "How do you know that?"
"Kara, don't."
She ignored him and took another step forward. His eyes closed for a moment, and when they opened she saw with a sinking heart that they were full of determination.
"Kara, I love Zak."
One sentence, and she knew she was beaten. She closed her eyes. "So do I."
"Then you know that we can't do this."
She opened her eyes again, made herself look at him. "Yes."
Yes, I love him. But I love you more. That was what she wanted to say. But she couldn't. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that she had loved Zak first, and more importantly, he had loved her first. The first person in her life to do so. She couldn't repay that gift by leaving him, especially not for his brother.
However much it hurt.
And she wasn't the only one hurting. For once all Lee's defences were down, and she could see in every line of his face how deeply this was tearing him apart. How much it was costing him to step back from her.
"But we can't go on like this either," he said. "I've tried to stay away from you, but-"
"But you can't," she said. "Nor can I." As if she was trapped in a gravity well, with him at the centre. "We'll just have to try harder."
Lee's laugh broke off harshly. "You really think that'll work?"
"What else can we do? We're stuck here, Lee. There's nowhere else to go."
"I could ask for a transfer, maybe. Go to the Pegasus."
Kara smiled bitterly. "I can't see your father agreeing. He's not going to let you out of his sight while you're still grounded. And I can't go either. Not while I'm the CAG."
She could see he wanted to argue, but he knew she was right. Finally he nodded, something like despair settling over his face. "We'll just have to try harder, then. We have to. For Zak's sake."
She nodded. "This will fade, Lee. It'll get easier."
"Will it?" he said in a low voice. "Because it doesn't feel like it."
No, it didn't. But it would fade. It had to. "We just need to give it time." She wished she believed it.
Lee didn't look like he believed it either. "I hope you're right." He pushed himself off the wall, straightening his clothes. "I'd better go."
"Yes." He should; she felt as if she might snap at any moment.
Lee nodded. He stared at her for a moment longer, as if he wanted to say something else, but he didn't. He set his shoulders and lifted his chin, obviously bracing himself to face the world outside. Then he crossed the room quickly and left, closing the hatch quietly behind him.
Kara sank down on the table and buried her face in her hands, shaking. She thought of Zak, and hated herself.
I wish I'd never met you, Lee Adama.
But she didn't. Even after all this, she really didn't, and the knowledge only made her hate herself more.
----
Kara didn't get any sleep that night. Not the best preparation for flying CAP, but she couldn't pull out, because she was flying with Kat and the bitch would never let her live it down.
So she downed three cups of coffee and headed for the flight deck, and if she'd needed any more proof that the gods hated her she got it immediately, because the first person she saw was Lee, doing maintenance on the viper next to hers.
She carefully pretended she hadn't seen him, and was both relieved and hurt when he did the same. She doggedly completed her pre-flight checklist, refusing to let herself look in his direction. She was just about to climb into the cockpit when she heard his voice behind her.
"Starbuck?"
She turned. She cursed herself for it, but she turned. "Yes?"
He was standing behind her, far too close for her comfort. He looked at her uncertainly for a moment, and then smiled hesitantly. "Nothing. Just - be careful out there."
----
She'd had a hunch there'd be raiders in the sector she and Kat were flying, and she was right. Not just any raider, either. Scar.
The bastard caught her off-guard, swooped in from the sun and hit her while she was blinded.
Kara didn't care. She had him within reach, and she was going to take him down, if it was the last thing she did.
She ignored Kat's voice asking for her position. Scar was hers and she wasn't going to let Kat take him away.
He was right on her tail, probably thinking he'd got her cold, but he was wrong.
"Let's see how much you like playing chicken when you can't download, you bastard. One of us is going to have to break away first and it isn't going to be me." She gained some distance, then flipped her viper around and headed right for him.
She vaguely heard Kat yelling in her ear. "Starbuck, wake up! He's a machine, he's not gonna break. You're committing suicide, Starbuck!"
Was she? Maybe she was. But she'd take Scar down with her. And for a moment she thought maybe it was better this way. Maybe this was her escape from the trap she found herself in. All she was doing at the moment was hurting Lee and hurting Zak and hurting herself, tearing all of them apart. They'd both be better off without her.
"Starbuck!"
Scar wasn't pulling away. She held her course, teeth set.
"Starbuck, pull up!"
Why should she? She had nothing to stop her, nothing to lose...
Suddenly Lee's face flashed in front of her.
Be careful out there.
She pulled up.
Nearly too late, but she did it. Soared upwards, Scar still on her tail.
"Gods damn it! Kat! I'm going to put him right in front of you. Do not miss him, you frakking stim junkie."
Kat didn't miss. She might be a pain in the ass, but Kara couldn't deny she was a damn good pilot. Kara led Scar up into the trap and Kat took him out right on cue.
Kat shouted in triumph. "That's the way it's done! Let's go home!"
Go home. Yes. She'd have to go home now. She'd let her opportunity to escape pass by, and she wasn't sure why. But...she remembered how she'd felt when Cally told her the Blackbird had been destroyed, when she found Zak after the explosion on Kobol, and knew she couldn't inflict that kind of pain on either of them.
She'd have to find another way out.