Chapter 9
The next few days went surprisingly smoothly on the planet. His father hadn't exactly been pleased at the edited report Lee had given, but neither had he argued. He had asked about Kara, and hadn't balked at the limited description of her abduction and rescue. If perhaps Lee felt guilty about not admitting the details, he justified himself with the assurance that the eldest Adama really didn't need the worry. On a personal note, Lee didn't want Kara returned to the Galactica just yet. He had come awfully close to losing her, and her presence gave him a much-needed reassurance.
Lee found it surprisingly easy to keep track of Kara, because she was never more than an arm's length away. A good deal of the tension had been removed from the mining crew when Cops' open hostility had been removed, and Lee found most of the miners to be more open, willing to answer questions or help out, and didn't consider them a significant threat. Their reticence had been as much fear of Cops and his gang as it was a cultural issue. They had stayed clear because they feared what the man would do to them if they didn't do as he said.
On the other hand, Dooler and his crew were just this side of hostile. Only their responsibility for letting Cops grab Kara in the first place, and the threat of military action because of it, managed to keep them from being downright threatening. So he kept his commands to Kara intact about staying close. Not only did it reassure him, but he didn't want to take the chance of an unfortunate "accident" befalling her.
He held to his mandate that Kara stay within calling distance, and she actually stayed closer than that. He was still walking her to meals, although they were now willing to eat in the common room rather than their unit, and also to the latrine and back. He was with her from the time she woke up in the morning to the time they fell asleep at night, and all the time in between.
Lee noted a lot of other, more subtle, improvements in the assignment as well. The security forces were really doing their job, as well as helping in the mines. It had turned out that they had primarily been following orders from Dooler, a man for whom they all had a great deal of respect. The lead guard hadn't been trying to prevent the investigation, but had instead been trying to protect one of his own. Lee and Kara's interference in that goal would not be easily forgiven.
The guard who had been attacked had been a drinker, and Dooler had been afraid that he had been either in on the rape or otherwise involved in the miners' antisocial pursuits. He hadn't wanted to implicate one of his own without knowing the whole story. So while he wasn't a classic bad guy, he was still responsible for withholding information and obstructing the investigation. The rest of the guards didn't appreciate his being charged.
The miners were still a little coarser than Lee was used to after being in a military environment most of his life, but they were by no means rude or abrasive to them now. He found many of them to have a good sense of humor, if crude on occasion, and in their own way they were more welcoming now than his own squadron had been in the past. He even found himself liking a few of them, sharing in their jokes and letting them beat him at cards.
Kara kept a more reserved presence around the men. While she no longer stood against walls with the other women during meals and recreation time, neither did she edge into conversations with the men or ask to join the card games. She stayed near Lee, rarely talking to anyone besides him, and staying out of matters concerning either the mine or security unless he asked her a direct question. On reflection, she was positively angelic. It was starting to worry him.
In private, he had seen some changes in her as well, although nothing as overt as she demonstrated in public. She didn't talk much, nor did she smile unless he really worked to coax it out of her, but she didn't seem depressed either. He kept waiting for something to happen to let him know that she was getting over the attack or that she needed something more to help her, but neither message appeared to be forthcoming. She was simply reserved, speaking when spoken to and making sure that she never let herself get far from his side.
Physically, she was doing better. The first two days had been the worst, with bruises and sores that kept her in pain. He was able to find a mild analgesic in the medical kit, and she willingly took it. He actually did the same and found that he was able to get around a lot better with the pain in his leg kept to a more tolerable level. He had been dead-set against taking medications for the pain right up to the time when he had watched Kara gasp and squeeze her eyes shut as she'd rolled over the wrong way on the mats. It had occurred to him that if she should be allowed some help in recovering from injuries, then he could allow himself the same luxury. He had been more than happy with the results, and would make sure he mentioned the improvement to Salik when he got back.
Lee still had to help Kara with dressing and undressing, and they were the most difficult times in their day. She blushed the whole time, and he was awkward with trying not to look at her too closely. He didn't want her to feel like a bug under a microscope, but neither of them had a choice. Her arms had been yanked around so much that the muscles in her shoulders were swollen and stiff, and getting into and out of the jumper-style uniforms was a challenge. He continued to use the anesthetic wipes on the scratches on her back and legs, and the ointment on the various cuts. They were healing well, and no longer needed bandages except perhaps to keep the ointment off her uniform. She only had the one, now, so keeping it clean was a priority.
Each evening they set a routine of eating with the miners, visiting the Raptor for a daily report, then returning to the unit to clean her up and get ready for bed. She didn't complain about the daily cycle, but then she didn't complain about much. She was far too quiet in Lee's opinion, and what had begun as a grateful relief that she was managing the situation was gradually changing to a nagging fear that she simply wasn't facing it. She wasn't shutting him out — at least not verbally — but neither was she being open to him.
He had received an indication of how serious the situation was getting earlier that evening. They had been sitting together eating dinner with the miners when Lee had mentioned that he needed to use the facilities. Kara had stood with him and walked the short distance, then waited while he took care of business. When he finished and gestured that it was her turn, she had shaken her head. She didn't have to go.
"Then why did you come out?" he had asked in confusion.
"Because you did," she had told him simply. They had walked back to the spigot, Lee had washed his hands, and together they had returned to their meal. There had been no one threatening at the table, it had been bright daylight outside, and she had been thoroughly introduced to everyone around her. And yet she hadn't been comfortable enough to sit there with them, even with a blaster at her side. It just wasn't Kara.
But he tried not to worry. It was much easier to tell himself that she just needed time to regain her stability after the fear and pain of the attack. As she moved easier, she would be reminded less of the experience and she would return to normal. At least, that was what he told himself. In the meantime, he tolerated having her closer than a shadow during the days, and always at night.
And yet even the nights had changed intensity since the attack. She had gradually stopped keeping her distance from him on the mats, and now moved in close and held on tight. After the first couple of nights she had at least shed her uniform, going back to sleeping in her underwear, and it was then that he realized just how closely she was holding on. Normally in the past, he had slept on his left side, keeping pressure off his right leg, and she had scooted back into his lap. Occasionally she had even wrapped her arms around his upper arm as she slept, cuddling him as he did her. His left arm was her pillow, and his right arm kept her close. It had been comfortable, warm, and easy.
Now she tended to keep herself curled into a ball until he lay down next to her. Once there, he found her practically on top of him, arms around his body and head resting on his chest. He didn't mind the position. They had lain that way many times before, and regardless of where they started they had often shifted in the night and woken that way. But never before had she held on so tightly, or needed the position to go to sleep. Her body was tighter than it had been before, lacking the cuddly relaxation he had always associated with her in his bed. It wasn't that he minded the changes — he really didn't — but they worried him. It just didn't seem to be a natural progression of their relationship. It seemed forced, and that made him uncomfortable.
But to mention it just might give it validity, and he didn't want to take that risk. Kara was open to him at the moment, relying on him and trusting him, and he couldn't help but be flattered by her confidence in him. Their situation was no longer imminently dangerous, and they had time to look around the site during the day and gain a better appreciation for the mining operation than they had while Cops had been running it. Oddly, the loss of four men hadn't seemed to diminish their productivity at all, and they were still on schedule to leave in a couple of days.
Lee couldn't wait to get back to warm showers and clean sheets. As much as he had enjoyed having Kara near him so much, he was also looking forward to a little privacy. She wasn't obtrusive in her presence, but she was always there. He was starting to feel that their togetherness was too much of a good thing. That thought made him more than a little guilty; after all, if all she needed to feel safe was his presence, then it was pretty cruel to resent it. But he hadn't even been able to use the bathroom without her standing outside the door, and the constant supervision was making him feel a little funny. He was beginning to understand how a conjoined twin might feel.
The other nagging suspicion he had was that she wasn't as fine as she seemed to think she was. Yes, the wounds were healing and the bruises were starting to fade, but she still jumped at unfamiliar sounds, and she didn't take off her blaster except to sleep. She was nervous — something he had never seen in her — and she didn't need much provocation to panic. She was also clumsy and distracted, which was very much unlike her. Kara had always had a clear and intent focus regarding all that went on around her. She was too easy to startle now, and he couldn't count the times she had tripped, run into him, or banged into a cave wall or table. It was as though she wasn't paying any attention to anything.
Lee's worries had been confirmed the day before they had been scheduled to leave the planet. He and Kara had been checking the Raptor out for flight readiness, a standard procedure when a ship had been dormant for more than a few hours. Lee was checking systems that had been off for over a week, and Kara was checking the munitions they had brought along for emergency use and had thankfully not needed.
"I'm having trouble getting c-circuit to register," he called back. "Can you check it from the back panel?"
Kara nodded and closed the flooring over the ammunition, locking it into place carefully. She eased herself into the rear seat of the Raptor, usually reserved for monitoring during times of attack and cross checking during jumps. She had been in the seat only a moment when she called out to him. "Hit it again."
He tapped the switch once more, seeing no response at his terminal. "Anything."
"It's clear down here," she told him. "We've probably lost an external wire."
"I'd feel better with it operational," he admitted. "How about pulling some of your magic and checking that wiring for me?"
She was still for a long moment. "We got tools?" she asked. She didn't sound hopeful.
"Always the emergency repair kit," he reminded her. Then, with a quizzical look, "You know that."
"Right," she said simply, forcing a smile that did not look natural. She still didn't move from the seat.
"You okay?" he asked her gently.
"Fine," she answered, but she sounded anything but. She still hadn't moved.
Finally, Lee did. He grabbed the emergency tools from beneath the co-pilot's seat where she knew very well that they were kept. Three long strides took him back to her seat. "I'd do it myself," he told her, an idea forming in his mind that he truly hoped was way off base. "But I have half a dozen systems I still want to check. You're better at the electronics than I am."
She nodded once, the rest of her body still frozen, as he placed the work kit on her lap. "Just hop down and get to work," he told her softly. She looked like she might fly apart any second. He hadn't seen her so fragile since the night of the attack. "I'll be right here."
She took a deep breath, and then another, and another. Her eyes closed and he watched a shiver shake her whole body. Finally, she reached to her right and checked the placement of her weapon, then took a final long breath and held it a moment before letting it out. "I'll take care of it," she told him in a voice that was little more than a whisper.
He nodded, leaving her sitting there as he went back to the front of the Raptor. He didn't start checking systems, though. He just sat there waiting, seeing if she would be able to get out of the spacecraft without him.
He had a long wait. Finally, after more than ten minutes, he began working on the last couple of checks that needed to get done. He had the answer to his question. Kara wasn't okay. She was a very long way from being okay. Starbuck, the most hotshot member of Blue Squadron was terrified to get ten feet from him to do a simple repair. This wasn't just a matter of her wanting to stay close; there was pure fear in her eyes.
Another long ten minutes passed as he finished up the systems checks and then went back to her seat where she was still sitting with the heavy tool kit on her lap and her eyes focused nowhere in particular. "Kara?"
"Hmm?" She focused her eyes on him, and the fear was still there.
"I've got the systems set," he told her. "Let's go down and check that circuit. You can show me where it connects."
She nodded in a jerky little motion, but she began to move. He stayed right behind her, using her shoulder and the Raptor wing as supports to keep weight off his leg as he disembarked. He pulled a blanket from the wall rack just inside the hatchway, and spread it out beneath the Raptor. Kara just stood there and watched until he lowered himself down and scooted up under the spacecraft. She wasn't ten seconds behind him, following his motions and settling in beside him far closer than was necessary to get the job done.
They made the repair quickly. She had been right about the wire, which had a bare spot that had shorted it out. She replaced it quickly, splicing new wire into place more efficiently than he thought Tyrol could have managed it. Making the repair hadn't been what had worried her. He was afraid he knew what had.
As they cleaned up the tools and shook out the blanket to return it to the Raptor, Lee looked at Kara as sternly as he could manage. "I'm going to check that circuit," he told her. "Then put the box back. It'll take me thirty seconds, tops. I want you to stay here."
Her whole body tensed, but she nodded her ascent.
Leaving her standing there was one of the hardest things he had ever done, but he somehow made himself turn his back and hop back up onto the Raptor wing. He replaced the tools beneath the seat, stuck the blanket in its holder, and seated himself in the pilot's seat just long enough to confirm that the circuit was now operational. That done, he made sure all systems were off, and exited the Raptor.
He found her right where he had left her, standing motionless and looking straight ahead. Her breathing was far too fast, and the shivers moving through her body were visible. Closing his eyes, he stepped close and put his arms around her tightly. She jumped so violently that she frightened him, and the sound she made was a barely restrained scream. He spoke quickly, assuring her that it was just him, and she didn't move for a moment When she did he was sure that she was going to pull away, but instead she turned in his embrace and her circled his waist as she pressed the full length of her body against him. He held her there for long minutes, until her shaking stopped and her breathing was back to normal.
"You okay?" he asked softly. The question was moot. He already had his answer.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. She never bothered to answer his question. She didn't have to. There was nothing she could tell him that he hadn't already determined on his own.
The problem with not telling all of the truth when you should, Lee decided, was having to fix the mess later on.
And a mess was what he had to fix. The main issue at the moment was that he had no one to turn to for instructions on fixing it. No one, save him and the security members he had sworn to secrecy, had a clue what had really transpired on the planet; not Salik, not the squadron, and certainly not his father. He couldn't even seek professional help for her, because it simply didn't exist. There were a couple of doctors among the ragtag fleet, one of the best being right there on the Galactica, but so far as he knew there was no one who specialized in therapy or psychology. If there were, he was sure that person would have been brought in when their chief scientific advisor had gone around the bend. Instead, they had slowly watched the man lose all contact with reality until he had required hospitalization and later incarceration. He would not allow that to happen to Kara, whatever he had to do to prevent it.
But the Galactica wasn't filled with self-help manuals either. He would check with Salik about managing victims of assault, and perhaps the security leader back on the Galactica might be able to shed some light on the matter, but without telling them what he needed he was going to be fishing around in the dark.
The most sensible course of action would be to break his word to Kara and just tell his father what had happened. But Kara had a point that he didn't need the stress. A few months back he had worked and worried himself to the point of illness during the fuel crisis, and he was just now getting back onto his feet and back to a regular workload. Colonel Tigh had been amazing during the interim, but Kara neither liked nor trusted the XO, so going to him was another dead end.
So as Apollo flew back to the Galactica with Kara beside him — another sign that she wasn't well, in that she had asked him if he'd like to take the controls — he did so with an absolute fear of what would happen when he got there. He couldn't keep her with him without answering a whole lot of questions that he didn't ever want asked, and yet he didn't know how she'd manage on her own. She was the most independent woman he'd ever known, and currently the most dependant that had ever existed. If she couldn't go to the bathroom by herself, how the hell was she supposed to fly her patrols?
It could all work out, he supposed. After all, stranger things had happened. She would be back among known friends once on the Galactica, and she would be far from the site of the attack. He might be worrying for nothing. He might be trying to find solutions to problems that wouldn't even exist. She might fall right back into her routine, as they all had after losing their world, and within a few days be back to the Kara he knew, loved, and needed.
And she might not.
"Raptor two-four-two to Galactica. We are on final approach. Request permission for landing." The words were automatic, and he said them without any conscious thought as he approached the starboard landing pod.
"Raptor two-four-two, you are cleared to land on starboard landing pod one. Continue hands-on approach."
"Roger, Galactica," he replied as he made a tiny adjustment to his controls. "Raptor two-four-two coming in. I have the ball."
His landing was smooth and easy, as much due to Kara's management of the buffers and gimbals at the back of the plane as to his own control of the thrusters and fuel. They were an amazing team, working together almost subconsciously to manage the aircraft. They had been the same way at the academy, accused more than once of being attached at the brain, simply because they were so in sync with one another. He might have thought it came from growing up together or some amazing cosmic gift, but the truth of the matter was that his father had taught them both the foundations of their flight skills, and they always pulled from the same reference when working.
"Raptor two-four-two, down and locked," he announced into his helmet mike.
"Roger that. Welcome home, Apollo."
Lee gave an unconscious smile as the Raptor began to descend into the Galactica's landing bay. It was good to be home, even if that home was flying through space. "Thanks, Dee."
Kara was already pulling off her helmet and shutting down systems. Lee began doing the same from his end of the craft. As usual, the process was quick and efficient with the two of them working together.
As they completed the necessary duties and the hatch started to lower, Lee reached towards Kara to release the collar from her helmet. She squealed and jumped back a good two feet. The action startled him as much as it did her.
"I'm just taking off the collar," he told her gently, taking a step towards here and breathing a sigh of relief when she didn't withdraw. "I didn't mean to startle you."
"No problem," she assured him as she ducked her head to make it easier for him and then reached forward to do the same for him. "I wasn't thinking."
He nodded his understanding and grasped one of her hands quickly. "We're going to have to talk, Kara," he told her on a sigh. "You're worrying me."
It was exactly the wrong thing to say. She tugged her hand back from his and straightened her body, refusing to look him in the eye. "I'm fine," she told him firmly. "It's good to be back home. Things should be fine, now."
"I hope so," he told her honestly. "But if they're not"
Anything more he might have told her was cut off by the embarking of the deck crew. They came in through the open hatch, oblivious to the currents running between the two pilots.
"Welcome back, Lieutenant," Tyrol said as he came up the wing with a clipboard in hand. The Chief might not have noticed the quick way that Kara stepped back and away from him, but Lee couldn't miss it. She had run directly into him in the process.
"Um, C-circuit," she said, sounding short of breath. "We had to do some rewiring prior to takeoff. It looked like routine wear, but it's worth checking."
"Got it," he told her with a smile. "How was the flight."
"Short," Lee answered for her. Tyrol laughed with him, along with Cally and another of the deck gang that was checking the Raptor over on the inside. When they were done, they would start on the outside. It was Commander Adama's orders: every aircraft was to be completely checked after each and every mission or routine patrol. Every one. No exceptions. They were too valuable to lose even one to lack of maintenance.
Lee agreed, but he would have really have liked to have had a few minutes alone with her before the deck gang had descended on them. To someone who knew what she'd been through, her current behavior was odd but understandable. Without that information, she was just plain acting strange. He was going to have to talk to someone about the situation, but the only person he really could go to was Kara herself. And finding a place to talk on this ship was not an easy accomplishment. Further, if she wouldn't talk to him on the planet — where they had been in one another's pockets for the last week — he had no clue how he would get her talking now.