Reluctantly, Apollo dragged himself from the pleasant nothingness of sleep. His right arm was shouting at him to shift it, but it was pinned in an awkward position, and he couldn't move it. It had begun to ache, and the painful tingling had driven him from the depths of sleep.
Like someone drugged, he slowly forced his eyes open. Momentarily, sleep confused, he wondered why he could not move. There was a weight on him. He stared dumbly at the brown hair that covered his chest and the sleeping form that lay curled at his side. He inhaled deeply to erase the cobwebs from his mind. Like mist retreating from the sun, awareness returned and his memories flooded back to him.
He closed his eyes as a jumble of emotions warred within him. Foremost, was a sweet ache that tugged at his heart. He had been fighting this emotion for so long now; it was sweet agony. An addictive thing that he knew he should not sample, but like an addict, he could not resist it.
He opened his eyes and watched the slight rise and fall of Sheba's breathing while his mind filled with the memories of the previous night, and he dangerously allowed this forbidden emotion to fill his heart. A warm sweet pain spread out across his chest. His soul ached to embrace it. So strong and overpowering was this emotion, that once released, he felt like a steel band was constricting his chest, preventing him from taking another breath. With a gasp that was more of a sob, Apollo fought against this overpowering emotion.
The strength of it shocked him. Never had it been so forceful. He could not remember it being so powerful, even when it was Serina he held in his arms - and that scared and shamed him. How could he feel so much more for Sheba then he had with his own wife? He felt he had somehow betrayed Serina with his emotions. It mattered not to him that he had no control over these emotions. He closed his eyes and struggled to regain control.
Why was he fighting this? Why couldn't he just give in to this emotion? It was tearing at his soul to be let loose.
Yet his soul already bore the scars that love could inflict, and he was terrified it would consume him again. Only this time he knew he'd never survive.
With tears flowing down the sides of his face, Apollo quietly lay there, his arm's pain forgotten in the storm of emotional pain, and wondered how had he allowed this to happen.
It had been difficult to work through the lethargy caused by recent events. One moment he was void of emotions and then in the next, a wave of unbelievable anguish would wash over him, suffocating him. At such times, he felt he would break down. Yet, he had to go on. So many people now relied on him as he had relied on his father. He knew his mind had not yet accepted that his father was gone. He would catch himself wanting to discuss problems with him, to talk about this or that, only to suddenly realize that he would never be able to discuss anything with him again. The loss of his father had left him feeling vulnerable and so very alone. He had managed to shield himself behind his walls. But, as time and fatigue grew, his armor had begun to crack, failing him when he needed it most.
He had suffered so much loss in the past two yahrens that at times, he wondered how he had ever survived it. In the beginning, he had grieved for the loss of the Colonies, and as everyone who had survived that tragedy, had grieved for the loss of his family members. He missed his mother as only a son could. She had known his moods better than he had himself. She had always been able to bring sense to his world and to put everything into balance. She had kept his priorities straight.
Then there was his little brother, Zac. His death had haunted Apollo's dreams, filling them with guilt and remorse. He should have never taken him on that patrol, but Zac had been so eager to prove to his big brother that he could do it. That he was capable. Well he had proven that with his life.
As the fleet started to gather, he had been helpless to help those left behind, felt useless to those that now needed help in the expanding fleet, and immensely guilty that he had survived at all. As their journey started, he thought he would breakdown from the weight of all the grief and self-recriminations, but then he was approached with a problem he could fix. Something he could finally do right. Someone he could help.
When Serena had first asked for his help with her son, he was uncertain why he had followed her through the crammed, makeshift living quarters of the Rising Star. But, he could not refuse the pleading in her eyes, nor the fact that she had saved his life back on Caprica.
It was on the ravaged Caprica that he remembered his first meeting with the boy. There had been so much destruction that he could not even recognize his family's home, nor the site where it had been. He remembered the 700 yahren-old Bantic tree that been the centerpiece of the front garden. When he looked over what was once his home, there wasn't even a hint that it had existed. Unlike his father, he could not bring himself to look through the ruins of their lives. When he saw the mob approaching, he had wanted to leave, but he could not pry his father from his memories. He, and the whole fleet, had failed those who where approaching. They had lost the war and their worlds. What could he say to them?
He was unprepared for their angry actions, and for a moment, thought they would end his guilty torment by ending his life. But they did not: Serina had stopped them. Then there, in the middle of all that destruction, was the untouched innocence of a child. The small boy whose only thought was his delight at seeing a Viper up close. With childish enthusiasm he, had asked for a ride. How many times had Zac asked that same question?
It was that same boy, who had reminded him so strongly of his little brother, that later lay motionless and uncaring on the Rising Star. The child's innocent wonder had been all but forced from him since their first encounter.
As his first attempt to brighten up the boy failed, and he had looked up and saw the desperate fear in the boy's mother's eyes, he had rallied himself then and there. He'd pushed out the pain and numbness that had kept him from feeling too much and accepted the challenge of this young soul.
The boy had focused his grief and confusion upon the one thing that mattered to him most, his missing daggit. When Apollo had later realized they had not saved a single animal from their home worlds, he had talked Dr. Walker into making a small robotic daggit for the boy. His delight in seeing the boy smile and laugh was mirrored in Serena's eyes. Eyes that seemed to touch his very soul. He had not realized until that moment that his feeling for Serina had grown so strong.
She had re-balanced his life with her love and shown him the way to forgive himself for losing his little brother. She had truly saved his life, and he had started to live again.
Then his world shattered once again, dragging him back down.
The despair caused by the loss of Serina was unbearable. He couldn't function. All he wanted to do was just lie down and die, to end this new onslaught of pain and to stop this maddening cycle of death. But he could not. He found himself alone with that same small child who now looked to him to ease his pain.
So, he managed to rally himself again, to live and to love the precious soul he now cared for. Boxey had become his reason to go on. He reason to live.
Eventually, his heart began to heal and he began to live, yet again. His world was once again coming back together.
Then Sheba had come into his life. He had taken little notice of her at first. He enjoyed her company, as she, of all people, knew what it was like to be in the shadow of a formidable father, a leader of men. Without realizing it, he began to search out her company. There were few with whom he would allow himself to let down his guard, but it had seemed so natural to do so in front of her. He told himself she was just good friend. But his feelings for her silently and unknowingly grew deeper. Without his acknowledgment and before he had had a chance to lock it up, she had crept into his heart.
He had not recognized the feelings of jealousy that had flowed through him when Iblis had threatened their relationship, and then Sheba's life and soul. He had even allowed himself to ignore Starbucks comments, but then she had made him look at their relationship. She had forced the issue on him and he fought it. But even as he tried to deny that there was a closeness, he had realized his true feelings. He began to recognize how his pulse quickened when she was near, how her smile made him feel, and what he would do to see that smile. And for the first time he allowed himself to feel the feelings that had forced their way into his heart.
And he was terrified.
How had it happened? He had sworn to himself to never love again, to never put himself in such a venerable position again. He couldn't afford to love. Not now, not ever.
Unnerved by his thoughts, Apollo gently extracted himself from Sheba. He sat on the edge of the bed looking down at her. For a moment, all his troubles were forgotten as his eyes slowly caressed every inch of her sleeping form. He sat there unaware of time, unaware of anything else in a bubble of calm, but the turmoil of his recent thoughts had set up a ripple, and eventually the bubble broke.
With his thoughts in chaos, he clenched his jaw and grimly, once again, began to try and rebuild the walls around his heart. Determined to regain control, he gathered up his discarded clothes and dressed as quietly as he could. The last thing he needed now was for Sheba to awaken.
Once dressed, he collected the damage reports he had tried to read the night before and started to leave. From the bed he heard a movement. Like a guilty child, he froze. Sheba's hand reached out, searching and finding a pillow, pulled it close. She sighed and seemed to fall back into a deeper sleep. Apollo released the breath he hadn't realize he was holding. Tearing his eyes from the sight of her, he turned and left his quarters. As the door silently closed behind him, he knew his newly erected walls had already begun to crumble.
Like someone drugged, he slowly forced his eyes open. Momentarily, sleep confused, he wondered why he could not move. There was a weight on him. He stared dumbly at the brown hair that covered his chest and the sleeping form that lay curled at his side. He inhaled deeply to erase the cobwebs from his mind. Like mist retreating from the sun, awareness returned and his memories flooded back to him.
He closed his eyes as a jumble of emotions warred within him. Foremost, was a sweet ache that tugged at his heart. He had been fighting this emotion for so long now; it was sweet agony. An addictive thing that he knew he should not sample, but like an addict, he could not resist it.
He opened his eyes and watched the slight rise and fall of Sheba's breathing while his mind filled with the memories of the previous night, and he dangerously allowed this forbidden emotion to fill his heart. A warm sweet pain spread out across his chest. His soul ached to embrace it. So strong and overpowering was this emotion, that once released, he felt like a steel band was constricting his chest, preventing him from taking another breath. With a gasp that was more of a sob, Apollo fought against this overpowering emotion.
The strength of it shocked him. Never had it been so forceful. He could not remember it being so powerful, even when it was Serina he held in his arms - and that scared and shamed him. How could he feel so much more for Sheba then he had with his own wife? He felt he had somehow betrayed Serina with his emotions. It mattered not to him that he had no control over these emotions. He closed his eyes and struggled to regain control.
Why was he fighting this? Why couldn't he just give in to this emotion? It was tearing at his soul to be let loose.
Yet his soul already bore the scars that love could inflict, and he was terrified it would consume him again. Only this time he knew he'd never survive.
With tears flowing down the sides of his face, Apollo quietly lay there, his arm's pain forgotten in the storm of emotional pain, and wondered how had he allowed this to happen.
It had been difficult to work through the lethargy caused by recent events. One moment he was void of emotions and then in the next, a wave of unbelievable anguish would wash over him, suffocating him. At such times, he felt he would break down. Yet, he had to go on. So many people now relied on him as he had relied on his father. He knew his mind had not yet accepted that his father was gone. He would catch himself wanting to discuss problems with him, to talk about this or that, only to suddenly realize that he would never be able to discuss anything with him again. The loss of his father had left him feeling vulnerable and so very alone. He had managed to shield himself behind his walls. But, as time and fatigue grew, his armor had begun to crack, failing him when he needed it most.
He had suffered so much loss in the past two yahrens that at times, he wondered how he had ever survived it. In the beginning, he had grieved for the loss of the Colonies, and as everyone who had survived that tragedy, had grieved for the loss of his family members. He missed his mother as only a son could. She had known his moods better than he had himself. She had always been able to bring sense to his world and to put everything into balance. She had kept his priorities straight.
Then there was his little brother, Zac. His death had haunted Apollo's dreams, filling them with guilt and remorse. He should have never taken him on that patrol, but Zac had been so eager to prove to his big brother that he could do it. That he was capable. Well he had proven that with his life.
As the fleet started to gather, he had been helpless to help those left behind, felt useless to those that now needed help in the expanding fleet, and immensely guilty that he had survived at all. As their journey started, he thought he would breakdown from the weight of all the grief and self-recriminations, but then he was approached with a problem he could fix. Something he could finally do right. Someone he could help.
When Serena had first asked for his help with her son, he was uncertain why he had followed her through the crammed, makeshift living quarters of the Rising Star. But, he could not refuse the pleading in her eyes, nor the fact that she had saved his life back on Caprica.
It was on the ravaged Caprica that he remembered his first meeting with the boy. There had been so much destruction that he could not even recognize his family's home, nor the site where it had been. He remembered the 700 yahren-old Bantic tree that been the centerpiece of the front garden. When he looked over what was once his home, there wasn't even a hint that it had existed. Unlike his father, he could not bring himself to look through the ruins of their lives. When he saw the mob approaching, he had wanted to leave, but he could not pry his father from his memories. He, and the whole fleet, had failed those who where approaching. They had lost the war and their worlds. What could he say to them?
He was unprepared for their angry actions, and for a moment, thought they would end his guilty torment by ending his life. But they did not: Serina had stopped them. Then there, in the middle of all that destruction, was the untouched innocence of a child. The small boy whose only thought was his delight at seeing a Viper up close. With childish enthusiasm he, had asked for a ride. How many times had Zac asked that same question?
It was that same boy, who had reminded him so strongly of his little brother, that later lay motionless and uncaring on the Rising Star. The child's innocent wonder had been all but forced from him since their first encounter.
As his first attempt to brighten up the boy failed, and he had looked up and saw the desperate fear in the boy's mother's eyes, he had rallied himself then and there. He'd pushed out the pain and numbness that had kept him from feeling too much and accepted the challenge of this young soul.
The boy had focused his grief and confusion upon the one thing that mattered to him most, his missing daggit. When Apollo had later realized they had not saved a single animal from their home worlds, he had talked Dr. Walker into making a small robotic daggit for the boy. His delight in seeing the boy smile and laugh was mirrored in Serena's eyes. Eyes that seemed to touch his very soul. He had not realized until that moment that his feeling for Serina had grown so strong.
She had re-balanced his life with her love and shown him the way to forgive himself for losing his little brother. She had truly saved his life, and he had started to live again.
Then his world shattered once again, dragging him back down.
The despair caused by the loss of Serina was unbearable. He couldn't function. All he wanted to do was just lie down and die, to end this new onslaught of pain and to stop this maddening cycle of death. But he could not. He found himself alone with that same small child who now looked to him to ease his pain.
So, he managed to rally himself again, to live and to love the precious soul he now cared for. Boxey had become his reason to go on. He reason to live.
Eventually, his heart began to heal and he began to live, yet again. His world was once again coming back together.
Then Sheba had come into his life. He had taken little notice of her at first. He enjoyed her company, as she, of all people, knew what it was like to be in the shadow of a formidable father, a leader of men. Without realizing it, he began to search out her company. There were few with whom he would allow himself to let down his guard, but it had seemed so natural to do so in front of her. He told himself she was just good friend. But his feelings for her silently and unknowingly grew deeper. Without his acknowledgment and before he had had a chance to lock it up, she had crept into his heart.
He had not recognized the feelings of jealousy that had flowed through him when Iblis had threatened their relationship, and then Sheba's life and soul. He had even allowed himself to ignore Starbucks comments, but then she had made him look at their relationship. She had forced the issue on him and he fought it. But even as he tried to deny that there was a closeness, he had realized his true feelings. He began to recognize how his pulse quickened when she was near, how her smile made him feel, and what he would do to see that smile. And for the first time he allowed himself to feel the feelings that had forced their way into his heart.
And he was terrified.
How had it happened? He had sworn to himself to never love again, to never put himself in such a venerable position again. He couldn't afford to love. Not now, not ever.
Unnerved by his thoughts, Apollo gently extracted himself from Sheba. He sat on the edge of the bed looking down at her. For a moment, all his troubles were forgotten as his eyes slowly caressed every inch of her sleeping form. He sat there unaware of time, unaware of anything else in a bubble of calm, but the turmoil of his recent thoughts had set up a ripple, and eventually the bubble broke.
With his thoughts in chaos, he clenched his jaw and grimly, once again, began to try and rebuild the walls around his heart. Determined to regain control, he gathered up his discarded clothes and dressed as quietly as he could. The last thing he needed now was for Sheba to awaken.
Once dressed, he collected the damage reports he had tried to read the night before and started to leave. From the bed he heard a movement. Like a guilty child, he froze. Sheba's hand reached out, searching and finding a pillow, pulled it close. She sighed and seemed to fall back into a deeper sleep. Apollo released the breath he hadn't realize he was holding. Tearing his eyes from the sight of her, he turned and left his quarters. As the door silently closed behind him, he knew his newly erected walls had already begun to crumble.