Wow…I got a lot more reviews on "Empty" than I thought I would. Thanks to everyone who stopped in to read. Originally, I envisioned Empty as a one-shot epilogue. But the reviews and the following episode, "Scar," gave me some ideas that I want to play with, so here goes.

This one will cover the time between "Black Market" and "Scar," in case anyone's tracking a timeline.

RDM owns it all I'm just a dabbler.

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Empty Chapter 2

Adama made his way to the pilots' rec room, looking for Kara. It was late, and he wasn't sure where she'd be at this hour, but his meeting with Lee had him worried. Maybe she might be able to get through to him better than he could. He felt a pang of regret at that notion…he didn't even know how reach out to his own flesh and blood. He pushed the thought aside. He had a mission to complete. That's how he would deal with this.

He arrived to find only a handful of pilots sitting around. Some were playing cards, some were indulging in ambrosia. He tried to slip in quietly, but HotDog spotted him, and jumped to his feet.

"Admiral on deck!" The rest of the pilots leapt up, following HotDog's lead.

"As you were, everyone," Adama said, motioning them to sit. He made his way over to where HotDog and Kat were playing cards.

"Lieutenants," he greeted.

"Evening, sir," both replied easily.

"I understand you both completed your flight qualifications on the Mk VIIs, congratulations to both of you."

Kat's smile at that lit the room, "Thank you, Admiral."

Adama got to the business at hand, "Either of you know where I might find Starbuck?"

He noticed an odd look of discomfort flash between them, but kept quiet. Now what?

HotDog spoke up first, "She's uh--in the bunkroom, I believe, sir, probably asleep by now."

Adama thanked them and let them return to the game. He made his way aft to the bunkroom area, and slowly pulled the hatch open. Starbuck was lying sprawled on her rack, snoring. Disappointed, but unwilling to wake her, he glanced around noticed the stench of alcohol permeating the compartment. He noticed two empty ambrosia bottles lying sloppily on the communal table in the center of the room. Glancing back at Kara, he noticed the empty glass in her hand, dripping what remained of its contents onto the sheets of the rack. He frowned. What's going on with her? Is my whole family screwed up? With a quiet sigh, he withdrew and closed the hatch. He'd have to ask her about Lee tomorrow…and maybe, ask about her too.

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The Next Day

Lee sat uncomfortably on the examination table in sickbay. Doc Cottle was poking at the bruise on his stomach from where his attacker had punched him in Shevon's room on Cloud 9, and jotting down notes on a clipboard. Lee tried to keep his head away from the smoldering cigarette in the doctor's mouth, but the smoke was getting to his nose anyway. Cottle apparently noticed his frown, and poked him a little harder than necessary near his bruise. Lee shot him a dirty look, but said nothing…which is all he'd said since coming in here thirty minutes earlier. He had nothing against Cottle in particular, even though he was an obnoxious sonnuva---

"Anything you'd like to mention, Captain?"

Lee thought for a moment, and then replied, "The stuff you gave me for my neck stings a little when I use it."

Cottle puffed on his cigarette, "It's supposed to, that means it's healing the wound. Small price to pay for almost being garroted, wouldn't you say?"

Lee shrugged, withdrawing back inside again. His will to talk had disappeared again, as it did often of late. Cottle scribbled some more on his board, then moved to the nearby counter to finish up and remove his gloves.

"How about your friend on Cloud 9?"

Lee looked up sharply at that, "What?"

"Is she keeping up with her shots?" at Lee's confused look he added, "They need to be careful about getting anti-viral shots every month. Socialators may be legal in most of the Colonies, son, but its still not the safest way to make a living. Those shots keep her and her clients healthy."

Lee look turned accusatory, "How do you know anything about that?"

"I got a call from Cloud 9's medic when you found the body in that girl's quarters. Not many other activities on L Deck, Captain."

Lee sighed. I guess it's hard to keep that stuff a secret. The memory of the previous night's conversation with his Dad formed in his mind, and he looked back at Cottle, "Did you say anything to my father?"

Cottle glanced up from his papers and shook his head with an annoyed look.

"None of my business, young man…" Cottle's sneer became a smirk, "unless it starts hurting you to pee."

Lee glared at him a moment, then started buttoning up his jacket. Cottle glanced up again, "Starbuck was asking about you, though."

Lee finished closing his jacket and asked, "Why?"

Cottle shrugged, "Something about how you've been acting since your near-asphyxiation a few weeks ago. I told her I wasn't a shrink. Besides, even if I was, I couldn't tell her about anything you said in here."

Lee murmured a "thanks" and headed towards the curtain.

"Lee?"

Lee stopped short of the exit and turned, it was rare for the doctor to address him by first name. In fact, the only time he could remember had been when his father was coming out of surgery months ago.

Cottle turned to him, "If there was something you needed to talk about, she seemed genuinely concerned."

Lee looked at the floor. He knew he couldn't talk to her anymore than he could talk to his Dad last night. He just nodded, "Yeah. Thanks." He left the room as Cottle put the cigarette back in his mouth.

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Lee walked down one of Galactica's many miles of corridor. So…Cottle knew. His Dad knew. He wondered how long until everyone else found out too. Not that he really cared. He cared about very little these days. A few pilots passed him in the corridor. He nodded absently but didn't stop moving. He was almost to the ready room when the PA buzzed to life.

"Attention. Pass the word to Captain Adama: Captain Adama report to the Ward Room. Repeat. Pass the word to Captain Adama: Captain Adama report to the Ward Room."

With a tired sigh, Lee turned the next corner and made his way forward to the Ward Room.

On his arrival, he noted his father, President Roslin, Lt. Gaeta and Colonel Tigh bent over a printout on the center table. He stepped into the room, and saluted smartly near the door. Adama looked up at the motion.

"At ease, Captain, come take a look at this."

Lee noticed that his father didn't take his gaze off of him as he moved to the table, but he tried not to stare back. The others seemed more interested in the papers covering the table. He stopped near Gaeta and looked at the readouts. Gaeta filled him in.

"One of our Raptors made a close pass near this asteroid field early this morning, they detected large quantities of ore in this one," Gaeta pointed out one of the larger rocks on the DRADIS scans.

His father took up the briefing from there, "We want to send in one of the mining ships to extract the ore. This is just what we need to start producing more Vipers."

Lee nodded silently. They'd been discussing the possibilities of building new Vipers for some time now.

Roslin took the cue, "With your deck gang's recent success building the Blackbird from scratch, we think this may be an excellent opportunity to replenish our fighter losses. Since the Cylons seem to have retreated after the loss of their Resurrection Ship, this is the perfect time."

Lee's blood ran cold at the mention of the Blackbird.

"Starbuck, Apollo. Target's FTL is history."

A flash... the console exploding in his face…being slammed against the canopy as the ship begins to spin….

…pulling the ejection handle as the canopy begins to shatter…being blasted into free-floating weightlessness…

…catching a last glimpse of the Blackbird as she spins to her doom…the eerie calm of watching the battle rage on dozens of miles above (below?) him…Galactica and Pegasus flying in huge figure-eights around the Cylon basestar, blasting away…

"Lee?"

He snapped his attention back at the sound of his father's firm voice. How long had he been drifting? He noticed the others looking at him too. He looked at his father.

"Sir?"

"I asked how many planes you'd need to secure the area."

Lee frowned, trying to ignore the stares of the others. "Um…more than we have, sir. We'd need to pull some pilots from the Pegasus air group to help, but it should be possible."

He desperately tried to avoid looking directly at his father, who had abandoned any pretense of interest in the planning and was watching him alone. He drew his attention to what Colonel Tigh was saying now.

"…and have the roster ready by 1800."

Lee honestly hadn't heard any of that, but knew what Tigh wanted, so he pretended nothing was wrong…like he had been for weeks now. 'Yes sir, no sir, nod, work, eat, sleep, yes sir, no sir….

"Yes sir."

"Dismissed, Captain," his father said. Lee could feel his Dad's eyes on his back as he quickly exited the room. He headed for his office, hoping he could avoid them for the rest of the afternoon. He was already weary of people asking if he was alright.

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Adama watched his son leave the room. He had noticed the sudden change in Lee at the mention of the Blackbird. Lee's narrow escape was clearly still bothering him. He had to force his attention back to the discussion at hand. He felt little interest in the Viper project, regardless of its importance, while his son remained in trouble. He filed Lee's reaction away for future use, though, and turned back to hear Roslin addressing the time required.

"…at least two weeks. The Captain of the Majahual can't give us accurate drilling times before he sees the asteroid up close."

Adama looked at Tigh, "Contact Commander Garner aboard Pegasus, ask him to meet us here in two hours. We'll need to brief him as well."

As the meeting broke up, he realized that Roslin wasn't moving to leave. He knew they had left her very upset about the black market situation last night, and she probably wasn't through with him yet on that subject. He waited until the others had left before leveling a neutral gaze on her. He braced for another argument.

"Admiral, I was wondering if you'd noticed anything odd about Captain Adama's behavior lately?"

That surprised him. Had she noticed something too?

"Yes, as a matter of fact. He's been hard to reach lately." An understatement if I ever heard one….

Roslin nodded, "So I've noticed. And his attitude during the debriefing last night--"

Adama cut her off, a little too defensively even to his own ears, "Madame President…Laura…he's been through a lot lately. We all have."

She smiled. She knew, of course, that he was referring to her recent, and miraculous, recovery from her cancer. "I know, Bill. I'm not---" she paused, searching for the right words, "I just want to be sure Lee's alright, that's all."

Adama wasted no words as usual, "I tried talking to him. He doesn't seem to be open to discussing it. He can be pretty stubborn when he wants to be."

That earned him a wry grin. "He's your son."

Adama retorted with their old joke, "He's your advisor."

Roslin smiled as she began to move away, "Well, let me know if I can help."

Adama returned her smile, albeit briefly, "I will. Thank you, Madame President."

He watched her go, and settled into one of the nearby chairs. He honestly wasn't sure where to begin solving Lee's problem. It might help if he actually knew what it was. He still needed to find Kara this morning. He was going to need help in any case, and the woman that was practically his daughter-in-law knew Lee better than anyone. Himself included.