Chapter 9

Lee held on to Kara's hand for dear life, because hers was. He still hadn't caught his breath from the run to the hangar bay, but he really didn't care. So long as he could keep one hand on hers, he would manage.

Tyrol had bawled him out for even that. Okay, maybe it wasn't the safest place for him to be, tucked up under the wing of a falling Viper, but it was the only way he could manage to reach in and assure himself that Kara was still alive. Cally had been able to squeeze in enough to get a full-body look at her, so he had some reassurance that there at least was no blood, but that was about all. They couldn't even get a medical team in there to get a blood pressure on her or give her oxygen or anything else. Salik and his team were standing a short distance away so that as soon as the Viper was up they could get her out.

Until then, he was essentially useless to all of them. He didn't know enough about the lifts to help out there, and Tyrol's team knew what the hell they were doing. At least they'd better, otherwise he was likely to kill them all. He just might do it anyway, given what had happened. Someone had to be at fault. It was easier to think about that than the weak grip on his hand.

They had to get her out. She was wedged in beneath one wing, flattened straight out with her arms over her head. That was the main reason he couldn't even see her; the wing tip was within an inch or two of the deck. He didn't know why her arms were extended above her, but he was grateful. If they'd been at her sides there would have been no way they could have reached her. As it was, he was flat on his belly with one arm as far under the wing as he could reach just to make contact. It wasn't much, but it was all he had.

Kara hated tiny spaces. She always had. If he could have traded places with her, he would have done it in a heartbeat. Instead, all he could do was lay there and pray, and hope, and worry. They had to get her out.

"Captain Apollo, it would be safer if you could back up a little," Tyrol advised. "We have two bands on the Viper, and as soon as we have a third we're going to lift it."

"Am I in the way?"

"No, Sir, but"

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, Sir, but"

"Then just get her out," Lee told him quickly. "I'm fine here."

Tyrol didn't argue, but neither did he look happy. That was fine. Lee wasn't very happy either. He hadn't been happy since a call had come to his office that a pilot had been caught under a falling Viper. He'd hit the corridors at a run, and only when he'd entered the bay and started demanding answers had he realized just who was under there. After that he hadn't thought about anything but getting to her. He still wasn't thinking very clearly, but he didn't give a shit. He just wanted her out. He wanted to be able to put his arms around her and hold on. He wanted to hear her voice. He needed her.

"She still okay?" Cally asked, bending down next to Lee. It was the most stupid question he'd ever heard. Of course she wasn't okay. She had twenty tons of spacecraft above her, held there by a stupid titanium ladder. But that wasn't what Cally was asking. She just wanted to know if Kara was still with them. When he nodded, she explained, "The Chief was afraid that if we only lifted the one wing, the other supports might give. That's why we brought in the other two lifts. We want to take it straight up and off her."

"How long has she been here?" he asked. How long had she been trapped there by herself? How long had her life been suspended by a thread?

Cally checked her watch. "Almost ten minutes," she admitted reluctantly. "We're getting it done as fast as we can, but we want it right."

It had better be right. It had to be right. But he wanted it done now. "How much longer?" he asked.

Cally looked around her to gauge the progress. "Two minutes, tops," she told him. "But you really should move. The bands are threaded with titanium, but if one snaps"

She had said the last words very quietly, but they still infuriated Lee. Kara had to be scared enough without anyone mentioning the possibility of failure. "I'll be fine," he told her firmly.

Cally shook her head in much the same way that Tyrol had, but she didn't argue either as she stood to walk towards one of the lifts. Lee was distracted as Kara squeezed his hand once more.

"You okay?" he asked her again.

One squeeze. That was supposed to mean yes. Either that or it meant that she couldn't squeeze twice. "You having fun under there?" he asked quickly, desperate to make sure that it hadn't been an inability to answer no.

Two squeezes that time, and he closed his eyes in relief. She was still with him. He just had to keep her there. Lords, she must be terrified.

"Two more minutes," he told her. "They've almost got it."

One more squeeze. He hated this. He couldn't see her, and couldn't help her, and he couldn't take her place. All he could do was hold tight and pray that nothing went wrong.

"Salik, we're ready," Tyrol called out.

The doctor stepped forward and spoke to Lee. "When it comes up, don't let her move. We'll have the team come in and take her out. We don't know what injuries she could have. Understood?"

"Kara," Lee called out. "Did you hear?" Nothing. "Kara, when the plane comes off, try not to move. Let them come to you. Got it?" One squeeze. He then nodded to Salik, and closed his eyes in a silent prayer. Please Lords, he thought, not Kara. Don't take her from me. Please.

"Teams on my mark," Chief Tyrol called out loudly. "Three, two, one, lift!"

Lee heard the creak and groan of the machinery as the Viper lifted. It took every bit of his will not to tug her from beneath the rising spacecraft, but the doctor was right: she might be hurt. She was probably hurt. He tried not to think about that.

She squeezed his hand tightly as the Viper lifted from her, and he could only pray that she wasn't being injured by their attempts to free her. As soon as there was enough clearance to see her he sucked in a breath. She was completely still, her arms extended above her head, and her face was nearly blue. Once glance was all he got, because Tyrol called a halt to the lifts, and Salik's team was in action. Two techs came in from the far side of the Viper, and another two from behind him with a plastic litter. Staying low, as the Viper was only about two feet from the ground, they carefully maneuvered her onto the litter. He still had a grip on her right hand, but he couldn't see her for the medics in his way. That was fine. She was getting the care she needed, so he could wait.

"On three," Salik said. "One, two, three." With that, they scooted her from beneath the Viper towards him, strapped neatly to the plastic board. Lee followed. In the back of his mind was the knowledge that it was his responsibility to find out what had happened, and his job to make sure the rest of it was dealt with. He just didn't give a shit. He had moved with the litter, still clutching her hand within his own, and he wasn't leaving her.

Once they were clear of the Viper and its lifts, they put her down and the medics started working in earnest. He couldn't see her face — they had covered it with a large oxygen mask just as soon as they had put her down — but her hand still looked a little blue. She wasn't talking, and her eyes were closed.

"Kara?" he called. "Still with me?"

She gave another squeeze. One of the medics reached for that arm, and he shifted with it. He let the medic move around him. He knew he was in the way, and he just didn't care. Three years back, he had seen death coming for him in the form of a Cylon missile. His ship had been crippled, his wingman dead, and he had known then that he would die. Out of nowhere, this woman had come blasting through that missile and had managed to get him home. Now she was the one who had been alone and facing death. He'd be damned if he'd let go of her. The fact that he could do very little to help her was irrelevant. He was here. It was all he could give her.

He didn't understand half of what was going on. They'd put in an IV, checked blood pressure, and were doing a dozen other things that he didn't really didn't recognize despite the basic first-aid training that all pilots received. The doctor was running an odd device over her stomach and chest beneath her shirt, looking at a small monitor in his hand. Techs were doing things to her arms and legs. It didn't matter. Salik's team was the best. They would get her through this.

After a few more minutes, Salik said it was time to get her to the Life Station. Lee still held her hand when they lifted the litter up onto a rolling gurney, and he didn't let go as they began rolling her towards the stairs.

"Captain Apollo?" one of the medics asked. He didn't answer, but he did look at her. "We need you to let go so we can get her up the stairs." Lee looked around him and realized the problem. He gave a last squeeze before releasing her hand. It was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, but necessary so that the four medics could pop the wheels up on the gurney and carry her head first up the stairwell. Lee followed behind them at a jog. He didn't want to be in the way, but he had to know how she was. He wasn't on duty anyway — his shift today was mids — so Evans had the watch. Let him figure out what the hell had happened. If Lee was technically supposed to be running the show, then he'd take care of it later. At this moment, his mind only really had room for Kara.

Once they had made it to the Life Station, he wasn't able to stay close to her. As the door to a treatment room was firmly slammed in his face, he realized that having rank wasn't of use everywhere on the ship. He closed his eyes for a minute, trying to pull himself together. She was going to be fine, he tried to convince himself. She had to be fine.

"How is she?"

Lee looked up to see his father walking briskly into the room. It hadn't even occurred to him to call his dad. Before he'd made it to the hangar he hadn't realized how serious the situation was, and once he'd found out he hadn't been willing to leave her to do anything. But the fact that he had forgotten bothered him. In his way, his father was at least as close to Kara as Lee was. In many ways, he was closer.

"How the hell would I know," he said with frustrated fury. "They won't even let me in the frakking door!"

Adama stepped closer and put a hand on Lee's shoulder. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. Lee took a deep breath and tried to calm the rage of not being able to do a damn thing for the woman he had fallen in love with.

"They haven't said," Lee said, and his voice wasn't nearly as steady as he had thought it would be. "She'll be fine. I'm sure she'll be fine."

His father didn't look so sure. He looked worried. When Adama gestured to one of the chairs in the waiting area, Lee suddenly realized that his legs were shaking. He walked over to the chair and sat down quickly.

"What happened?" his father asked in a gentle voice. "I got here as soon as I could get out of CIC. We just got the report from the hangar."

"They think it was a hydraulics failure on the rear landing support," he said as he put his aching head in his hands. He hadn't even realized that he'd developed a headache in the last few minutes. He had been too focused on Kara. "No one's sure. She was up under it for something — I don't know why — and the Viper just settled down onto her. Tyrol shoved a ladder under it and ran for help. I don't know anything else."

"How long was she there?"

Lee shook his head; he wasn't even sure. "Fifteen minutes or so. I wasn't there for the first ten."

"How long have you been here?"

Lee just shook his head again, standing up quickly and starting to pace. He had no clue, but he knew it was too long. Standing his body was shaking, but sitting he felt like he'd fly apart. He had to have some outlet for everything he was feeling.

How long had he been here? A minute? Ten? He really didn't care. However long it was, it had been too long. Panic that he had momentarily banked was creeping up in him again, seeking release.

"She wasn't moving when they got her out," Lee said in a shaky voice. "Not moving, not talking. Her hand was so cold, and her face How long can it take for them to check her out?"

His father stood up as well, but he didn't pace. He just stood there, watching the door as Lee had done, watching Lee go from one end of the room to the other. His presence was both calming and infuriating. "Give them time to do it right," he advised. "They'll come get you when she's ready."

"Her hands were blue," Lee said quietly, desperately afraid that his voice was going to break altogether. He couldn't get the sight of her still body out of his mind. "I couldn't see her face, but her hands and arms were blue."

When his father stepped forward and put his arms around him, Lee jumped. He hadn't even sensed the movement. He hadn't been that aware of what was going on around him. But once he felt his father's hug, he didn't even think; he just held on. If anyone in the world cared about Kara as much as Lee did, it was his dad. He had to be as worried as Lee was. And yet the older man was keeping himself together so much better than Lee was. It made him feel vaguely ashamed, but there was no accusation in his father's actions. He was simply offering what comfort he could. It wasn't really enough for either of them.

They held one another for a long moment, and as his father released him he reached up and put a hand on his shoulder. "She's strong," Adama assured him. "She's always been strong. She'll get through this."

Lee nodded, but didn't try to speak. He was too close to the edge of falling apart as it was. What the hell was taking them so long? He paced the room, using movement as an outlet for some of the emotion. He didn't know what else to do. When exhaustion finally overpowered the excess energy he began to slow. He knew the feeling of an adrenaline low — the inevitable result of an adrenaline rush - just as he knew there was no way to fight it.

He finally took up residence against one wall, using it for support, and his father sat down in one of the chairs. Lee lost track of time as they waited, if he'd ever really been aware of it. By the time Salik opened the door and walked towards them, Lee was nearly ready to break the door down. He didn't have to ask how she was.

"She's stable," the doctor told them. Lee felt his heart start rushing again; for a moment he had felt as though it had stopped. "She has a lot of bruises, but we didn't find any broken ribs and her pelvis is intact. Those were our primary concerns. It took us awhile to get her blood oxygen level up where we wanted it. Her breathing had been so shallow for so long that it's a wonder she stayed conscious at all. We haven't found any internal injuries, but we'll watch her. Sometimes these things show up later."

Lee closed his eyes and let himself rest against the wall as his legs started shaking again. She was okay. She was going to be okay. Regardless of any danger she might still be in, she had to be okay.

"When can we see her?" William Adama asked quietly. Lee thought his dad's voice was shaking a little, too. For some reason it made him feel a little better. Maybe his dad wasn't quite as together as he seemed. It made Lee feel a little less inept at his emotional handling of the situation.

"You can go back to see her. I don't think we'll get her to sleep until you do. But I don't want you to stay long. She needs to rest, and I can't sedate her. Her breathing is still more shallow than I'd like, but I guess her chest is pretty sore and breathing is still painful."

Lee nodded and started walking. He didn't care if it was rude. He just needed to see for himself that she was okay. He brushed by the doctor without a word, not even consciously aware that his father was following him closely.

Most of the technicians had already left the room. There was one tech checking equipment in the corner of the room, but he was the only one left there. The head of the bed was raised, and Kara was sitting up at an angle with the mask still on her face, tubes coming out of one arm, and a sheet pulled up beneath her arms. Her arms still held the faint yellowing brown bruises that he had put there a week before. It didn't make him feel any better.

Once in the room, Lee felt pretty stupid and came to a halt. Would she even want him here? She'd been so concerned about what everyone had thought the night before. Right now, all he wanted was to make her comfortable. If that meant leaving, he'd do that too.

His father had no such intentions. "What are you doing off duty?" he asked her with a smile as he approached the bed. Kara turned to look at him, and Lee could see the grin returned, even through the clear oxygen mask, although it was tired looking and brief.

"Sorry, Sir," she said in a very soft voice. Barely a whisper. If Lee hadn't been trying so hard, he would have missed the words.

"How do you feel?" his father asked.

"Sore," she admitted. "But it beats being dead."

"I'd say so," Adama agreed. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yeah," she told him in that same whispery voice. "Send that idiot son of yours over here."

"You've got it," he told her, bending forward and kissing her on the forehead. "I need to get back to CIC anyway. I didn't even wait for Tigh to get there to cover. Who knows what they've done to my ship while I was here." He grinned at her, and it was returned. Lee was relieved that she was at least able to find some humor. "You feel better." Leave it to his dad to give her orders now.

She nodded, but it looked like an effort. His father kissed her forehead again, and then came back to the door. "Go talk to her," he instructed. "She won't bite. She has a muzzle on."

Lee smiled at that, and Kara started to laugh. She stopped with a clear look of pain as she wrapped her free arm around her body. Lee's smile faded as quickly as hers had. "Hey," he finally said. Lords, he wished his voice would stop shaking!

"Hey," she whispered back.

"Hurting?"

"A lot," she admitted. He approached the bed, and got close enough to take her hand in his. She squeezed, and for some reason that made him feel a little better. "You stayed."

He shrugged one shoulder. "I couldn't just leave you there to get all the attention," he said with a wink. Humor had worked for his father; he'd try it himself. It beat the hell out of treating it with the seriousness that it deserved.

"Thanks."

He didn't know what to say. He had stayed because he hadn't had a choice. It hadn't been a conscious decision, so he really couldn't take credit for either the bravery or the stupidity, depending on how you viewed the situation. He watched as she shifted slightly in the bed, wincing with the effort. "So, nothing's broken?"

"No," she answered. "It came down pretty slow. Everything bent instead of breaking. It just hurts like hell to breathe."

"Can't they give you something?"

She shook her head again, but more gently this time. "Something about me not breathing deep enough as it is. But it hurts."

"I'm sorry," he told her softly. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

She was quiet for a moment, then looked up into his eyes. "Can you stay?" she asked.

"I can stay," he agreed as he turned away from her. "Let me go grab a chair."

"Lee?"

He turned back at the odd note in her voice. Slowly her arm came up and she reached out towards him. It was an invitation he couldn't refuse. He walked back over to the bed and took her hand. "What?"

"Hold me?"

He knew what it had to have cost her to ask, but he didn't exactly know how she wanted him to respond. He couldn't say no, but that didn't make it easy. "I don't want to hurt you," he admitted.

"Then don't leave."

Lee took a good look at the bed. It was about the size of the one they shared in his room, and she was off to the far side because that was the hand with the IV. Lee sat down on the edge nearest him, where there was the largest empty space, and watched as she painfully shifted away to give him room. "Are you sure?" he asked her. "I'm afraid I'll hurt you."

She nodded her head, and he moved a little further onto her bed, lifting his feet up and resting his back against the head of the bed. Kara shifted again, this time to her side, and rested her head on the arm he'd slipped behind her. With her face tucked in close to his chest, and the hand with the IV on his stomach, he did his best to hold her close without causing her pain. He wasn't sure if he was having much success, but it felt damn good to hold her.

They lay that way for a long while before he noticed that she was crying. It bothered him — Kara rarely cried — but he could understand. It had been a hell of a day and it wasn't even nine o'clock, and he'd been pretty close to tears more than once himself. He shifted himself a little closer, let her rest one knee on his legs, and put his arms all the way around her. It was still awkward with that damned mask in the way, but it was better than nothing. At the moment, it was better than most things.

Her quiet flow of tears lasted for a long while. She never really came apart — at least not the way he'd seen her do a couple of times in the past — and that was probably a good thing. If talking hurt her, he couldn't imagine what sobbing would have felt like. But she was still clearly upset. Her nose got runny, but he found a towel on the table by the bed, so they were able to wipe that up. Her body trembled against his, she clutched at his shirt occasionally with the hand on his stomach, and she kept her face buried in his chest.

Doctor Salik came in at some point, but he didn't comment on their position or her crying. He just passed a device over her back while he looked at his little hand-held monitor and then adjusted the valve on a tank nearby. "Are you staying for a while?" he asked.

Kara raised her head to look at Lee, and tightened her grip on his shirt at the same time. "Yeah, I'm staying," he answered.

"Good," the doctor said simply. "I have monitors set so that if she isn't getting enough air in you'll hear it start buzzing. Our techs will be monitoring as well, but if you're here you can act more quickly. Get her awake, and have her take some deep breaths even if it hurts. Got it?"

Lee nodded, and noticed that Kara had not only put her head back down on his chest, but had let out a breath that could have been relief. He just continued to hold on tight as Salik left the room.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been there, and he really didn't care to check his watch, when he heard the alarm for the first time. He glanced up to see a red light flashing, then down in his arms at Kara. "Take a breath, Kara," he told her urgently.

She did so. Then she took a second deep breath. The sound of the alarm silenced, but the light kept flashing.

"Again," he told her.

He felt her chest move this time, and saw her wince of pain, but finally the red light went out. He wondered where the techs were that were supposed to be monitoring her.

"Don't do that," he muttered to her, and glanced down to see a tired smile. He shifted her body slightly, trying to give her more room to breathe, but she didn't let him get far. When his arms loosened, hers tightened. After another moment, he gave up on trying to give her room that she wasn't willing to take.

"Lee?" Her voice was that same whisper, with no strength behind it at all.

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember"

"Remember what?" he asked.

"Your dad. When he took us flying. The first time, I mean."

Lee smiled at the memory. "I remember that I couldn't keep you out of my room afterwards," he told her with a grin. "You kept stealing my books after that, and asking me a thousand questions that I couldn't answer."

She nodded her agreement, but didn't speak.

"Why?"

"I wanted to fly," she said simply. He had to keep bending closer to hear her.

"No, I mean why are you asking about it now?"

"You let me hold on," she explained. He could only give her a confused look, so she continued. "When I was scared in the plane Zak laughed, but you you let me hold on." Her sentence had been broken by her breathing, but he thought he understood.

"You can always hold on to me," he assured her.

She gave a little nod, then closed her eyes. Lee lay there watching the monitor, not knowing what he was really looking at, but always afraid the alarm would go off again.

It did so several times. Each time that it did, he shook her gently, called her name, and had her breathe as deeply as she could until the light stopped flashing. The techs came in several times to check on her, but none of them commented on his being in her bed. He was grateful for that much at least. It hadn't been his idea, but he couldn't argue that it felt pretty damned good to hold her.

Gradually a few of her friends came by to visit. They didn't even enter the room, just peeked in and asked how she was. Lee nodded or spoke softly, but Kara didn't pay much attention. He wondered absently if they were discreet because of his presence, or if Salik had told them to let her be. He wasn't sure which answer he preferred. The morning crept by slowly, punctuated by buzzing alarms, anxious looks, and the steady warmth of Kara in his arms.

When Evans came into the room, he braced himself for the worst. Lieutenant Evans was Kara's backup, just as Kara was Lee's. Most of the time, one CAG was more than enough to keep things running, but it made sense to be sure more than one person was trained to the position. Lee himself had been tossed in head first, so he'd taken the extra time to explain everything to Kara: scheduling, reports, and the endless paperwork. Then in the last few weeks he'd explained it all to Evans as well. If both of them were out of commission, it would be this Lieutenant's job to keep the pilots in order.

"How is she?" Evans asked softly. Unlike the rest of Kara's friends, Evans didn't stop at the doorway.

"She'll be okay," Lee said softly. Then, more out of a feeling of responsibility than actual interest, "How are things down on the deck?"

"Straightening out," Evans answered as he took the chair that Lee had intended to use earlier. He still hadn't commented on where Lee was lying, a fact for which Lee was very grateful. Kara still hadn't stirred in his arms. "It was a hydraulic failure," Evans added. "Some of the Tylium processed didn't make it to the collection area, and when it drained down into the landing gear it compromised the supports. The rest of the gear is fine, and they're replacing the damaged one. It should be ready for flight by tomorrow."

Lee nodded. Something so minor — just a little leak — and it had nearly cost him his best pilot, and his best friend. Actually, far more than just a friend, but if he thought about it too much he would lose it in front of Evans. Professionalism. He had to keep that distance. To do so, he got back to business. "Tyrol running things?" he asked.

Evans grinned at that. "He's better at it than I am," the man admitted. "I just watch and listen. Patrols are on their way in from early watch, and mids have already gone out. I did cut the training schedule," Evans added reluctantly. "I wasn't sure if I should assign another pilot or not, so I just stuck them on hold. I figured you could handle that decision on your own."

Lee nodded. He would have cancelled the training flights, too. Not just any pilot could take out rookies and expect to bring them back in one piece. Kara was one of the few he could trust with that responsibility. His arms tightened around her unconsciously, and he heard her protest the gentle squeeze. She would be sore for a while if this morning was any indication.

"Did you want me to cover mids for you?" Evans asked, not meeting Lee's eyes. The question seemed to embarrass him. They had been splitting the duties into an early and mid shift, or an early and late shift. It had been more to keep him busy and give him a chance to check-up on Evans' work than because it was truly necessary.

"Check with the Commander," Lee finally said. "If he wants me on duty, I'll go. Otherwise we can skip it. You've been covering things pretty well during the days."

Just then, that damned light started flashing and Lee heard the alarm go off again. "Kara," he said loudly. "Wake up a minute."

She did, taking a deeper breath automatically, and immediately silencing the alarms. They were getting pretty good at this.

"She okay?" Evans asked, standing up and coming closer to the bed.

Lee gave a small sigh. "She will be."

"Anything you guys need?"

Lee thought about that. "Just check with the Commander about my shift," Lee requested. "What time is it, anyway?"

"Fifteen-hundred."

Lee nodded. Technically, he was already supposed to be on duty, or at least receiving reports from Evans. He supposed that in a way he was doing just that. "I should probably check with Tyrol," Lee thought aloud.

"He's off in thirty," Evans reminded him. Then, with a grin, "But I doubt he'll leave. How about I send him up here to get him off the deck? Then you can talk to him and you won't have to leave her."

It was a long way from regulation. "Thanks," Lee said. "That would help."

Evans nodded, stepping up to the edge of the bed. He looked at Kara for a long moment, then met Lee's eyes. "Let her know we're thinking about her," he said softly.

Lee nodded. "Thanks for coming by."

Evans gave him a grin. "Call us if you need anything. The Squad, I mean. Everyone wants to do something, and we really don't know what she needs. Besides you here, I mean."

Lee ducked his head at that, and couldn't help but wonder what everyone was thinking about the situation. He didn't care — not really — but he did wonder. Lee had never missed a duty in his life when he'd been conscious to show up, and he wasn't big on defying orders during a rescue attempt, either. Today had been a day for firsts. It was also just about the first time he'd had his hands on Kara in front of anyone other than immediate family, and usually not them either, even if it had been no more than a high-five or a hug. Now, here he lay, on her bed, with his arms wrapped around her. So much for professionalism on duty.

Evans didn't hang around to watch Lee's embarrassment, if that was even what it was. He supposed it was more a discomfort than really being embarrassed. He didn't care who knew that he cared about Kara, but not knowing her feelings on the subject he was reluctant to be too open. Still, this hadn't been his idea, and she hadn't given him a lot of choice.

At the very least, that was what he told himself as the alarm went off once more, and again he had to wake her.