Author's Note: Right. So it's three o'clock in the morning and for some reason God only knows I have been up since Battlestar ended, working on this blasted thing. It is chapter two of the story previously posted, and I think it's ok. However, it is three in the morning, and I may have missed some things in my proofreading. I know some of you were bothered by the typos before, and I do apologize. I'm also only half sure of what I've written…so I'm going to reserve the right to edit if the need arises. Again, reviews are most welcome. Invited actually. The more critical, the better. Pick me apart, if you please. Could be better… I want to make it that way. Enjoy.

They had to move quickly.

No one new how far away Lee had been when the sounds of weapons fire had brought him to the service station fight, but if he had heard it and known enough to come to their aid, then any cylon patrols in the area certainly would have. Still, knowing what needed to be done and actually accomplishing it were two different matters entirely. Five able bodied men and women remained now to move themselves and three injured comrades the ten miles overland to the comparative refuge offered by the Delphi Union High School, at speed.

Shields and the injured resistance man (Starbuck had finally remembered his name was Jackson), had been brought out to sit alongside Lee while the others tried to figure out a plan of action. Shields believed he would probably be able to walk on his own, with minimal support, but Jackson most certainly could not, and Lee wasn't even responsive. He had been lying there, in the dirt, with the dog beside him and Starbuck's jacket bunched up under his head for half an hour, with no sign of waking. He would be dead weight, unless his condition changed before they had to get underway, which everyone doubted.

Fortunately for them most of the supplies the truck stop had been equipped with at the time of the attack were still there. It had primarily serviced hunters and other sorts of sportsmen, who would stop here on their way up to camps in the mountains, and also the truckers who hauled supplies up to them. They weren't lucky enough to find, say, an ATV that had been in for repairs, but there was a dolly in the service station, and Landin turned up a good length of rope. They rigged up a sled of sorts to haul Lee on, and outfitted Shields with the cane; Lee wouldn't be needing it right now anyway.

The harness, interestingly enough, had been Sharon's idea. She had kept her distance from the dog, and Helo had, almost unconsciously, positioned himself between the two of them for the entire time they had been working. But Sharon's eyes had hardly left the animal, and her expression was a curious and calculating one. At her suggestion, Landin tied some of the rope into a sort of harness, which he put on the dog, and tied back to the dolly. This way, if they could get her to pull it, Landin and Anders could take up the ropes tied to the back end of the dolly and lift it over the obstacles they would encounter crossing rough terrain. They found a heavy leather leash tied around Lee's waist like a belt, which Kara untied and gingerly pulled off him. She clipped one end to the dog's collar and tied the other to her belt. It was the damnedest crazy idea she'd heard yet this trip, but that wasn't saying much, and Sharon had proven herself to be the sort of person who did not often succumb to foolish notions.

"Let's get out if here," Anders growled. "We've stayed too long as it is."

"Help me lift him."

As gently as they could, they eased Lee onto the dolly. It was too small to hold the whole of him, but they'd scavenged some boards from one of the outbuildings to lengthen the thing as much as they were able, and it would be serviceable, if not pretty. Kara took point, tugging the dog along with her, and with Jackson braced between her and Helo. Sharon brought up the rear with Shields, keeping a watchful eye on him, and offering her arm when he looked to be faltering. Their first order of business was to get the hell of the road, which they did in fairly sharp order, considering. The way they had come had seemed easy enough on the way here, but it proved quite different on the return trip, hindered as they were.

It did not take long for Starbuck to begin to get an idea of why someone would have used their precious anti-radiation meds to keep their pet dog alive. This particular dog ("Cylon Eradicator," she noted with amusement), probably weighed in at one hundred fifty pounds. That was one hundred and fifty pounds of muscle, which rippled visibly beneath the mud/blood caked fur as she strained against the harness. She had resisted the leash a little starting out, but had eventually settled in to follow Starbuck meekly enough. Kara made a note to commend Sharon for the suggestion; without the dog hauling on the dolly, their progress would have been significantly slower. Lee was not a small man though, and she didn't want either the animal, or the two men lifting from the rear, to strain themselves or burn out. If they were lucky, they would run into the other half of the search party before long. If they weren't lucky… well they just weren't, were they?

"Ok everybody," Starbuck said, glancing around and brushing her bangs back out of her face. "Take five."

Jackson and Shields were helped to sitting positions against trees. Canteens were passed around. Kara knelt beside Lee.

"How is he?" Anders asked softly, bending knee beside her.

"I know as much as you do." She was almost afraid to peel back his shirt, to look again at the wound through his left shoulder. "Gods, they really fraked him up…"

And they had. Lee had been shot twice. One bullet had pierced his shoulder, through and through, just before his left clavicle. The other had gashed his leg, more a graze really. If she had to guess, she would say that the leg wound had been the first. But that wasn't the half of it. They had torn him to pieces. She could see where they had dug at the bullet wounds, see where they had cut and scratched him. There was extensive bruising on the torso and upper arms, though it seemed they hadn't beat him much around the face. The ligature marks on his arms were cuts in their own right; the ropes had cut right through the skin. And there had, at some point, been a rope around his neck. It even looked as though he'd been burned. The evidence that his injuries had been treated to some extent, of which there actually was some, did not compare to the signs of abuse on his body.

"They're tracking him you know," Sharon said stiffly. She was standing with Helo, near where Shields and Jackson were sitting, watching Kara's examination intently. Helo would not have said it, but he got the impression that Sharon was more interested in how Kara dealt with Apollo, that with the injured Captain himself. "That's the only reason they would have let him live."

"Tracking him how?" Anders asked, incredulous.

"An implant probably."

"Or the dog maybe?"

"No. We don't keep dogs."

"Yeah for good reason seems like. Where would this implant be?"

"Imbedded in any one of a hundred wounds," Kara murmured. She tugged the duster Lee had picked up somewhere back over him, and readjusted the ropes that were holding him onto the dolly. "Doesn't matter. We can't probe around for it now."

"They'll follow us."

"They know where we're going anyway." She sighed, rocked back on her heels. This was not, at all, the way she had imagined the glorious return of the cavalry to Caprica. "Break's over. Let's move."

The gods were with them.

They met up with the other half of the search party around dusk. They had been drawn by the sounds of the battle, as Lee had been, and as every cylon on the fraking planet probably was. Things moved a lot faster after that. Despite Kara's concern that the cylons had probably honed in on their position, there not threatened by a single cylon attack that night. And they did travel all night. Lee had begun to mumble in his sleep, and it was unilaterally decided that the very best thing would be to get him back to a medic before he woke up all together.

It was good that they did. They had no sooner gotten him off the dolly and onto a cot in the old high school health office when he bolted up screaming. Lee's eyes were open, but he did not see. He fought blindly, and savagely, through a fugue of pain and fear and rage only a few of them understood. Walker and Landin struggled to hold him down as the medic drew a dose of sedative, but a terrified man can be as terrible a thing as that which he fears, and Lee fought like a wild thing. He cried out, he wept, he raged against them. And with each new thrash wounds tore, and blood flowed. The more they tried to hold him the harder he fought.

Kara moved quickly. Her face was set, grimly determined, the only indication of her grief the tears shining in her angry eyes. One, two, three strides had her at his bedside. She nudged Landin out of the way. Her right had alighted on the side of his face, her fingers pushing into his matted hair as she leaned close to him, rested her head against his, her lips close to his ear. They could see her jaw moving, knew that she was whispering to him, but no one heard what she said. ("Keep it together, Apollo. Come on Lee don't you leave me. Stay with me Lee. Focus. Focus on my voice. You hear me? We've got you. You're safe. It's me now. Just you and me. Keep it together Lee. Stay with me. Stay with me. Stay with me.")They saw Lee's hand fly up and lock Kara's arm in a white knuckle grip. They saw his entire body quaking. But the fighting had stopped; Lee had stopped fighting the second Kara had touched him. With her leaning against him, whispering softly to him, he kept still enough for the medic to administer the precious medication.

For several moments after his body went lax, and the hand that had gripped her so desperately fell, Kara did not draw away. She did not want the others to see the tears flowing down her cheeks, or how pale she was sure she'd become, or the pain that contorted her features. Finally, with great effort, she drew back just far enough to touch her forehead to Lee's, the tip of her nose to his. Her eyes closed briefly.

When she finally stood, her expression was one of steely resolution. She pulled her gaze from Lee and turned it on the medic, and than each of the men and women masquerading as medics. She let them see her face. Few noticed the fingers still brushing Lee's hand. Her voice was hard when she spoke.

"He's not going to die here. Whatever you have to do, do it."

It was some hours later before Anders went to her. He had seen how broken up she was about her friend, and he had been one of those who had noticed her reluctance to break contact with him, when they were in the infirmary before. He understood how hard it must be for her, to see someone she had served with for so long in that condition. Almost all of the old C-Bucks were gone now, and the pain of their loss was still fresh in his heart. There were days when he wanted to drop to the ground and die too. How could a man go on, when everyone he had ever loved and trusted was taken from him, one after the other?

So he had wanted to give her time, just to be with her shipmates, and her fallen captain. He had never been a military man, any more than he was now, but his understanding of it was that they felt a kinship towards one another as strong as blood. He'd gotten a taste of that, fighting on Caprica. How much more ingrained it must be for those who were serving together, united against the enemy, even before the attacks. They were immersed in it, lived in a culture of it. It wasn't until late, when he sighted most of the Galactica crew gathered around a fire, some hand in hand, speaking softly to one another and staring into the flames, that he decided to go find Starbuck.

She was still in the infirmary.

Captain Adama had been set away from the other wounded, because he was still crying out sometimes in his sleep and it was disturbing them. He was in a corner, near one of the only windows, and Kara sat on the floor with her knees up and her back against the wall beside him. The dog was with her. It was odd. The dog stood between Kara's knees, with her massive head resting in the woman's hands, simply staring calmly into Starbuck's eyes. And Kara stared back. Neither of them moved, except that the dog twitched an ear back when Anders approached.

"Sharon was here before," Kara said, without looking at him. "She said that cylons could never understand why humans kept animals. Like we were trying to prove how like our gods we are by mastering the lower beast. Everything the cylons have has a purpose. The raiders, the basestars, everything. They're like animals. But why do we, humans, just…keep them around? It's not about playing god."

"No." Anders slid down next to her, folding his arms over his knees and leaning his head back against the wall. "It's because we want to trust in something. It's what we have that the cylons don't. We want to bond. We want love and loyalty and trust and codependence."

"And we can't get it from each other?"

"Not always." He smiled. "I think it's because people want too much back. An animal all you have to do is feed it, and be around. And they give. A person, you have to work for it." She only nodded, accepting his explanation without comment. He decided to try a different ploy, working to draw her out. "So how long have you known Captain Adama?" Strange, they had been searching for him all this time and Anders had never learned anything about him.

Kara smiled softly, shaking her head as if she herself didn't believe it. "Ten years, give or take."

"Ten years? You said you only served on Galactica for two?"

"Yeah. Lee never served on Galactica actually. Not before the attacks. He was on Atlantia for a while." Her voice had taken a distant, musing quality.

"So where did you two meet?" Anders was more taken aback by this new development than he cared to admit.

"College. We weren't in any of the same classes, but we lived on the same floor, and we were in officer candidate school together, then flight school. We served on the same base on Caprica for a while, before Lee transferred out…" That had been a tough time. They had not parted on the best of terms then, and she had not seen him again until Zak's funeral. Change the subject. Something lighter. She smiled again. "He gave me my callsign you know."

"What? Starbuck?"

"Mmm."

"Where'd he get it from?" He had actually always been curious about that, and leaned forward to listen.

"You remember I told you I was scouted for the pros." He nodded. "Lee used to tease, that I would never be a C-Buck, but that it didn't matter. He joked that I would play a different game from now on. And anyway, C-Bucks have their feet on the big C, on the ground."

"And you'd be in the stars."

"Yeah. Starbuck. Plus you know we'd get in these big arguments about destiny and the will of the gods. Lee's not the most religious man ever. And he would say that no matter how many times I told him I would do the will of gods, if the stars aligned in a way that didn't suit me… I'd buck them, do my own thing."

"That's a name of many meanings you've go there."

"Yeah. Don't tell many people about that either…"

She was quiet for a while, staring at nothing. It was hard for her, remembering those days. They had been so young, and so stupid. Things had seemed so complicated, but so simple, all at once. Not anymore.

"And who gave him the callsign 'Apollo'? Was that you?"

"Mmm. He was always so into his books, used to write poetry in his notes when he thought no one was looking." She laughed, lost in the memory. "You know one time, I actually caught him singing to himself while he was working on his training Viper. Pretty good set of pipes on him. Anyway he was a regular warrior poet, our Apollo. Loved his art and music and philosophy. So…"

"Unusual isn't it? For a pilot to take a god's name like that?"

"Son of Zeus. No one said anything about it."

Lee stirred a little, muttering something unintelligible to himself. How naturally she did it, just reaching her hand up without thinking and laying it on his arm to steady him. Even more remarkable was how well it worked, calming him at once. Anders found himself wondering about these two, about how much had passed between them. He found himself wondering what kinds of things two people had to go through together, to reach such a point of natural ease, and care, and attentiveness. Could anyone else sooth Adama like that? He doubted it. Kara didn't seem to think anything of it.

"You should get some rest," he coaxed. "It's been a rough couple of weeks for you guys."

"Or months."

"Right. Or months. My point stands."

"Yeah."

She made no move to get up though. He couldn't tell if she lacked the will, or the energy. Well, she couldn't sleep here on the floor. She'd get no rest at all and be no use to anyone. Heaving a sigh, he took her by her arm. The dog growled in surprise and scrambled back as he hauled her up.

"Come on Kara. Let's get you to bed."

The look she gave him was probably the most scathing he had ever received from anyone, even in his C-Buck days. Still, she let him lead her down the corridor to the old supply room they had shared during her last visit.

He was glad when the dog didn't follow.

"Good morning, Captain."

Lee grunted. There wasn't an awful lot about this morning that was good, as far as he was concerned. He had woken with a savage headache, and he hurt everywhere. That could be seen as a positive thing of course; hurt men weren't dead.

"Morning Lieutenant," he croaked.

"Thirsty sir?"

He nodded. Lieutenant Margaret Edmondson, called Racetrack, pushed up from her seat on the edge of his cot and went to hunt up a cup of water. That didn't leave him alone though. Helo was leaning against the wall near him, and Walker was reclined on a pair of chairs at the foot of the cot; ass in one, boots on the other. He had a text book cracked in his lap.

"Catching up… on your reading, Walker?"

"Corporal Walker actually has a pretty good idea, sir," Racetrack chimed in before Walker could respond. She supported Lee up so he could drink, smiling warmly at walker as she did. Something going on there, he thought.

"Nah. Pretty straight forward really. There are a lot of school supplies and book and things here, just left. Resistance isn't getting any use out of them. I'm thinking we can bring some of this stuff back for the kids in the fleet."

"That is a good idea, Corporal." Lee stayed still while Racetrack propped a few more pillows behind him so he could sit up. He felt weird, being doted on like this. But he was so, so tired. It was kind of nice too. "I'm sure, that the president will be pleased."

It came to him suddenly, and he bolted upright without thinking. He immediately regretted it, all the air surging out of his lungs in a rush as he fell back. Dumb Lee. Dumb. But the panic remained.

"Where's Seek?" he demanded.

"Sir?"

"The dog. The dog I was with before…"

"Oh! The Cylon Eradicator." He nodded. "She's out with Starbuck and Sharon." Lee's face paled. Could they not know? Walker hurriedly added, "Don't worry sir. She's doing much better. We've been working on her, with Sharon."

"To keep me from shooting her," Helo said. It was his first contribution to the conversation, and not a pleasant one. It had been a difficult few days for him, watching Sharon deliberately put herself in the path of that animal, driven by some strange fascination with it, with its terrifying response to her presence. She had been bitten a couple of times so far, but kept at it. Couldn't even explain to him why. She just needed the dog to accept her. Fine. Whatever. It wouldn't do to tell Apollo that Starbuck had had to forcibly restrain him several times already, to keep him from putting a bullet in the bitch's head.

As if on cue, Starbuck and Sharon walked through the door, with Seek preceding them. The dog was bristled up a little, with her ears flattened back, but was not growling, or baring her teeth. Her disposition changed immediately when she saw Lee up and talking. The big bushy tail started swinging, and she bounded across the room towards him, flopping half her body up on the cot. He grunted painfully, but grabbed her face in his hands and smushed up her face anyway. In the short time he had known this dog, she had come to mean a great deal to him.

"Hey pup." A long red tongue shot out to kiss his face. "Ick. I know where that's been you know."

Starbuck came up behind the dog, taking her by her collar and drawing her back off the bed. She had seen Lee grimace, and didn't think he needed any more bruises added to his collection.

"'Mornin' Apollo. Good to see you back among the living."

"Starbuck. You're a hard woman to refuse." She hadn't thought he would remember, but his soft smile conveyed his gratitude, and his eyes danced to look at her. They would talk about it later no doubt, Lee being all about the sharing of one's emotions.

Then his eyes flicked to Sharon, standing just behind Starbuck. She was watching him intently, with expression and stance of one waiting for something. And he did not hate her, did not fear her as he should have, after what he had just endured at the hands of her kin. They had tied him up, had cut on him, had said terrible things… And his face inexplicably darkened. It was so sudden and noticeable that Helo pushed off the wall and stood straight, arms crossed, shoulders squared, ready to defend her against some perceived onslaught; though what threat he thought Lee represented was unclear. Sharon's eyes widened. Racetrack and Walker exchanged nervous looks. Kara, for her part, pretended not to notice.

"They were tracking you, you know," she said lightly. "Sharon there found the tracking device imbedded under the skin on your right thigh, right in the bullet wound. You'd think they'd try to hide it better."

"No," he deadpanned. "I'm sure they, wanted you poking around the bullet wounds."

"What do you mean?"

His eyes had not wavered from Sharon. His hands had begun to shake.

"If you guys don't mind, I'd like to talk to Sharon privately for a minute."

"Can I ask why? Sir?" Helo growled.

"No it's alright, Helo," Sharon soothed. Her eyes hadn't left Lee either. In fact, the only people who had spent more time with him since he had been recovered were the medic, and Kara. "I think I know what this is about."

The others weren't happy about leaving. The look on Lee's face would have driven fear into the staunchest heart. All of them had the same scene playing through their minds, or Lee ordering his giant dog to tear out the throat of the cylon they had all come to view as ally, if not trusted friend. Anyway, there were some things Kara wanted to talk to him about now that he was conscious, and some things they would need to know from his time in cylon custody. But if Sharon did not seem bothered about Lee's request, then there was no reason for them to be. Kara shrugged, trying to look more comfortable than she was, than she had been, ever since Lee came here. She pushed herself up from the cot and headed for the door, with the others following along behind her. She would place her trust in Lee, and in Sharon. And she would wait just outside the door.

"You know, what this is about?" Lee said softly, as soon as the others were gone.

"I think so. From when we found Marcel…" With a bullet in his head. Dead center. No other bullets in him.

"They told me…" Lee closed his eyes, leaned back on the pillows. The things the cylons had told him as part of their torture...well he could hardly stand thinking about them. And this...this one thing more than all but one of the others, filled him with rage and fear.

"I know. About the bullet wounds."

He nodded, just slightly. "I was hoping, you would tell me it's not true. But, it is, isn't it?"

Sharon moved around the side the cot, ignoring the threatening growl of the dog as she moved close to him. She had seen the wounds in his shoulder, and in his leg. She had seen the size of the bullet hole in Marcel's head, and how perfectly placed it had been. She knew, that cylons didn't snipe. And she knew that ground forces carried only one caliber of ammunition. And he knew it too, now. But it was harder than she imagined it would be, telling him. She could see the pain on his face even now, before she said a word. And she could imagine the betrayal in his eyes, though they were concealed behind quivering lids. His hands clutched the sheets on either side of his battered body. It had been worse than the beatings, than the torture, them telling him that. Of course that had been why they'd told him.

"Yes," she whispered, letting her fingers brush the bandage over his shoulder. He flinched, as if struck, and she felt the emotion well up in her. "It's true."

"Well…" He swallowed, hard. "Frak."