This is a sequel to Need. Since the timeline in Need is not true to the series, I've changed it in Partings. I hope it is closer to canon, but since I've not seen all of season 1, I apologize if it is still not accurate. Adama's thoughts will follow soon. Many thanks for your reviews and your encouraging comments!
Partings- Caroline
I thought this was what I wanted… what I needed, but now, sitting across the polished, golden Orary wood table from him, with the harshness of the papers spread before us, I can not help but have second thoughts.
I wonder what he's feeling- there is a part of me that still cares.
His eyes are unreadable. He's a very private man, but I've always been able to tell at least a little about how he's feeling- if he's pleased or frustrated. You would think that anger would be the easiest of all emotions to pick up on, but I watch him and cannot tell. Not today. William has hardly looked at me. Instead, he stares silently at the documents. When he does look up, it is a quick glance and nothing more.
I notice he looks very tired- I heard him tell one of the clerks it took him a week of travel to get here- he was in a far away sector, somewhere out near Scorpio, but I'm not certain. It was always difficult to keep up with where he was; I haven't tried to in the past several months.
He needs sleep- there's dark circles around his eyes. I know we gave him little notice, but to refuse the court date would have set the proceedings back another two months. My advisor thought that unwise- it would have given William more time to object.
William, however, never did object. He talked about it when here, several months ago. He said he loved us, he loved me, and he wanted us to be a family. I don't doubt that he does, but he's always said that and nothing ever changed. Nothing. Things will stay the same, I know.
My attorney hands the paper with my signature to the judiciary official who, in turn, places it before William. Ramrod straight in his chair, still in uniform, he doesn't react.
He came alone. No legal advisor, no one.
I think William has always been alone, even during our marriage. It is hard for anyone to get close to William Adama- even his wife.
Six months ago was our twelfth wedding anniversary, and the day I got up my courage; my asking for a divorce could not have been a surprise, really. I don't see how it could have been. Our difficulties started years ago- he had his life in the service…we grew apart…what more is there to say?
But, there is more, I know. I can't simply brush aside my years as his wife with such a trite phrase, yet I can't think of a better way to describe what happened.
William Adama swept me off my feet. He was a handsome Viper pilot who made me feel and laugh as no one else ever had. I was the devoted young fiancé, waiting patiently as the Cylon war dragged on. Then, I waited for him to come home with the other Viper pilots who were lucky enough to return from the far corners of our world to their wives and sweethearts. I had the wedding planned as well as the rest of our lives together. I knew just how our life would be, how I wanted it to be.
I thought he would be just like his fellow pilots. They swaggered and re-lived the glory for a time, then left the service or settled into new assignments on the ground and their lives got back to normal. He did come home to me, eventually, but he came home changed. He was more serious, more cautious. He had been scarred not just outside, but inside.
And unlike the others, William never swaggered. Everyone was celebrating, deservedly, and boasting of how we'd chased the Cylons away to deep space and they would never dare bother us again… He didn't believe any of it.
At first, he would disagree. Few would dare argue with him, but few would take serious note of his words, either. After a while, he'd simply sit and listen, not bothering to object, or he would simply leave. I quickly learned to not bring up the subject of Cylons.
Our wedding was beautiful, the honeymoon more wonderful than I had ever imagined, and when we returned from two weeks at an ocean shore resort, his orders were waiting. His assignment was to the Kear Orbital Complex above Caprica, a new joint military and civilian station.
Living there was not bad, I must admit. One entire ring was a hotel and entertainment development where I found employment in the publicity and advertising department; another ring held shops, restaurants, and a spaceport where I could catch flights back to Caprica. In its center, a garden dome was nearing completion. It was a pleasant assignment and we were happy, I thought.
However, William was not entirely pleased with the arrangements. Having civilians so closely positioned to the military was not sensible, in his opinion. He said it would limit the military's decisions in case of another Cylon attack because the military could not move and act freely for fear of collateral damage. He talked as if the war wasn't over.
We argued about this. Quite frankly, I was sick and tired of the Cylons. They had caused the death of too many friends, had kept us separated far too long, and had instilled themselves as an unwelcome presence in my very home.
I wanted them out of our lives for good. Nevertheless, they were there to stay.
Two years later, a firm on Caprica offered me a job working in advertising design and I accepted. I could have worked from the Complex, but it would have entailed frequent flights planet side. Not everything can be done at a distance over the computer, especially with the limitations on communications between computers that has been enacted. The Cylon War made people paranoid- we were actually going backwards in technology.
Moreover, I missed being on the ground. I told him I'd accepted the offer and was moving back to Caprica City.
William said he was pleased for me, but could not join me- he'd been assigned to a ship on a one-year deep space patrol in the direction the Cylons had retreated. He didn't try to get out of it, and he was willing to go. William was convinced the Cylon danger was just a matter of time. He still is.
I didn't understand his concern over the Cylons then and I don't understand it now. I don't think I ever will.
He told me once that he felt as if he was the only man living who realized just what kind of threat the Cylons still posed to the Twelve Colonies. I've heard all his arguments, all his reasons many, many times, yet I am not of the same opinion. The Cylons are gone. Not once since the fighting ended have they contacted us or responded to our diplomatic gestures. Not once. They don't want to engage us on any level.
He disagreed. He said we didn't win, but only put off the fight until another day.
I said he needed to quit looking to the past and get over the war so that we could get on with our lives.
He didn't reply.
Upon his return a year later, William accepted a ground job, albeit a temporary one. Still, he did try his best to do what I wanted of him and for once he was at home and life was how I'd always dreamed. He was overseeing a restructuring of the program to teach new recruits the basics of flight at the Simulations Center. I knew he wasn't as happy as when off-planet, but we were together and when Lee was born…
When Lee was born… To my dying day, the image of "Husker" Adama awkwardly holding his new son then gently kissing him is one I will never, ever forget. The nurse had to ask him three times for the baby; William just stared at his son in awe.
After that, he seemed to settle down. Promoted to captain, he gained command of a Viper training squadron. He was back to flying and was content- he told me so. Zak was born and I was certain that his concern over the Cylon threat was fading. The boys adored him and he loved them more than anything in this world. I have no doubt of that.
Then, the Admiralty started making changes to the Mark IV's design and he objected- the Cylon threat, yet again. He spent more and more time discussing the changes with anyone who would listen. Some did, but not many. He spoke out anyway, even though he was warned it could hurt his career.
He was assigned to a battle group. The assignments off planet became longer and longer, and by the time the boys started school, he was gone for months at a stretch. I honestly don't see how he can bear being on the ship so much. They are so cold and hard and lifeless. He seems to thrive on it, though.
During a family cruise, we visited his ship and I saw him standing steadfast, a pillar of calm among the chaos of the flight deck. It occurred to me that he was more at ease there than at home. I was crushed.
The boys, however, were fascinated.
Oh, gods, I pray they don't follow their father!
Then, with his next promotion, the months away became a year…and the year separations came one time too many. He was barely a part of our life and…
…and we simply grew apart.
What he can give us is not enough anymore. It just isn't enough.
So, here we sit, across the narrow table that is years in width.
"Major Adama, do you agree to the terms as set forth in this document?" the official asks, glancing at his chronometer.
The official waits impatiently and I think William is not going to answer.
"Is this what you want, Caroline?" William asks quietly. "Do you feel you and Lee and Zak will be better off without…if we are not…?" His voice is rough and he lifts his gaze to meet mine. I don't think I've ever seen such sadness in his eyes.
"Yes," I hear myself whisper, and he looks away. For a moment, I believe he's going to say something more, but he doesn't.
He grips the stylus tighter then quickly signs his name. The official takes the papers and certifies them. We are divorced.
"If you or the boys ever need…" He doesn't continue.
"Thank you," I answer. The official and my advisor gather their papers and rise to leave.
He's not opposed any of my requests for primary custody or monetary provisions. His first deposit for the boys' care was for more than I had asked and the settlement he agreed to will allow me to buy a house. He has always provided well for us and we've always managed without his being around. I don't see why that would change now. The boys and I will be fine, I know. The truth is, we've not needed him for a long time.
"Are you here long? When do you leave?"
"Not long," he answers, still looking away. "I depart tomorrow, early, to return."
I don't ask where he will be going.
"Are you planning to see the boys before you leave?"
"Of course," he answers quickly, lifting his dark eyes to stare at me. I look away, embarrassed that it sounded as if I was implying he would not. He does care for his children. He loves his sons.
I look at my hand, empty of the ring he gave to me on our wedding day. I've not worn it for months, but William still wears his. I wonder why. Will he take it off after he leaves here?
What is he feeling?
He was always so closed-hearted about his feelings, I never knew.
"Of course," I agree. I come to my feet. It is time to go.
And, again, there is silence.