Summary: Set during the mini-series. This story takes place after the events of episode "Kobol's last Gleaming, Part 2" Just what I think happened afterwards.

Pairing : None but watch this space )

Rating : G

Word Count : 690

Feedback: I appreciate constructive criticism above all else Disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica 2003 is the creation of Glen A. Larson and Ronald Moore. The characters in the story are the property of Glen A. Larson and Ronald Moore. Battlestar Galactica 2003 is copyright of the Sci Fi Channel. Battlestar Galactica is a trademark and copyright of Universal Studios. No copyright infringement intended. No profit is gained by this work.

A SLOW DEATH

Part One

The ship was in chaos. Its leader shot twice by a Cylon spy who wore the face of an ally. The President caged like an animal and complete radio silence from the Battlestar Galactica. Colonel Tigh had assumed command as William was in no shape to lead.

Occasionally the Colonel's eyes would look to the table where his closest friend had nearly bled to death and a shiver would run down his spine but Tigh pushed past this. He had to; he couldn't allow the fleet to fall apart. Not now, not after everything William had done. He could see the worry in everyone's eyes but he couldn't allow himself the same privilege. He had to remain strong; he had to be their tower of strength. He could not let William down, he had already done that enough as it was.

Inhaling slowly, Colonel Tigh turned his attention to the people around him." We continue on as normal." The confusion amongst them was very clear by the expressions on their faces. Expressions, Colonel Tigh did his best to ignore." You heard me, we continue on as normal. Is that understood?"

After a few moments, they all nodded and said." Understood."

The shock and the grief felt by all those onboard the Galactica could be felt through the thick metal walls but all of that shock and all of that grief could in no way match up to that of Lee Adama's. He sat hunched over in a plastic chair as he waited for some news on his father's progress. His brief tangle with mutiny was long forgotten in favour of this new devastating event. Blue eyes were bright red and almost swollen from all the tears he had shed over his father as he lay bleeding from his wounds.

A certain amount of numbness had overcome him. Anguish, pain and fury all dimmed by this cold feeling that started in his heart and flooded over the rest of his being. His hands were still a bright shade of crimson and those hands shook violently as Lee clenched and unclenched his jaw. This could not be happening. Did the Gods have no mercy? Eventually the young man pulled himself from his daze and threaded his hands through his dark hair and he shut his eyes.

" Please anything but this." His words were whispered with a desperation that was both unfamiliar and almost alien to Lee. He hadn't sounded this way since Zak. Did he have to watch as another member of his family died? He couldn't bear the thought and he literally pressed the balls of his palms into his eye sockets as he tried to get past the fear. His father would survive, he had to. He couldn't die like this, not like this.

How long did he have to wait? How long until he knew his father's fate?

A shaky breath was released and hands were dropped to rest against his knees. There was so much anger inside of him and it practically screamed to be released. Right on the person who had done this but it was Sharon. The woman trusted by him and most of all, she was the woman his father had trusted. Lee rose to his feet and took to pacing. The events leading up to this very moment replayed over and over again and he could remember every word spoken, every expression made and every emotion felt.

Torture had nothing on watching as your father was shot not once but twice. He couldn't find the words to even begin to explain his thoughts. They were all jumbled together but one stood out very clearly in his mind. i'You should have been here Kara'/i How could she be so stupid? How could she do this?

Lee felt a sharp pain in his chest and before he could regain his composure or his control. He was crumpled on the ground, head buried against the wall and arms left to hang loose at his side. Loud sobs were emitted from his now frail form.

He couldn't do this; he could not lose another person he loved.

TO BE CONTINUED .....