Chapter 3

Helo couldn't help groaning inwardly when he saw Sam Anders waiting for him outside the briefing room.

He really didn't need this right now. Every time he closed his eyes he could see Lee Adama bleeding to death in front of him, struggling with the pain as he choked out his last words.

He'd never known Apollo well, but he'd liked what he had known. He'd been a good man and a good commander, and he hadn't deserved to go out like that.

Then there had been the ordeal of reliving it all for the Admiral. He hadn't been able to help feeling that he'd failed the Old Man in some way by leaving his son behind, even though he knew realistically that there was nothing else he could have done.

Then there was Kara. The look in her eyes when he had told her Apollo was dead – just the thought of it made him shudder. He hadn't seen her look so broken since the museum in Delphi.

All he wanted was some hot food, a shower, and then to curl up in his rack and blot it all out. But first there was Sam to deal with.

"How is she?"

How do you think she is? Helo was tempted to reply. She just lost one of her closest friends. But instead he said diplomatically, "She's upset, Sam. She just needs some time."

Sam didn't seem reassured. "I don't understand," he said, running a hand through his hair. "This guy – Apollo – I didn't think she even liked him. I mean, you saw how they were glaring at each other during the meeting yesterday."

"I did," said Helo.

"And before that she'd barely seen him for a year, and I know they had some kind of argument when she left the military. I just don't understand," he said, looking bewilderedly at the closed hatch. "I just don't know why she's this upset."

"Well, she has known him for a long time," said Helo gently. Despite his irritation, he couldn't help feeling a little sorry for the man. "Way before the attacks, when she was engaged to his brother. In some ways she's been like family to him and the Old Man."

"I know that, but - but you heard her in there. She wanted to go looking for him. Back on the planet. Just in case he was still alive. It's utter suicide! Why would she even think-"

"There was this one time when she was lost," said Helo. "Everyone thought she was dead, but the Old Man and Apollo refused to believe it and spent hours looking for her. And they were right. I suppose she feels an obligation."

"I suppose," said Sam. He continued to stare at the closed hatch.

Helo put a hand on his shoulder. "Sam, just give her time. You know Kara – she likes to lick her wounds in private. Give her tonight and I'm sure she'll be better in the morning."

Sam sighed. "You're probably right. It's just hard, when she shuts me out."

"I know." Helo steered him away from the hatch. "Let's go to the mess hall. You'll feel better with some food inside you."

He moved Sam firmly away but he couldn't help glancing back at the closed hatch himself. He hoped Kara was going to be okay.

What he'd said to Sam was true, on the surface. Starbuck and Apollo were simply old friends, almost family, even if they'd been on the outs recently.

But this was Kara Thrace, and Helo had learnt years ago that with her you always had to look below the surface. Nothing was ever simple with Kara.

When he first got back to Galactica, he'd heard lots of rumours about Starbuck and Apollo. He'd discounted most of them, especially since he knew that Kara was in love with Anders. But there had been a few occasions when he had wondered if the rumours were true.

They had certainly been true as far as Apollo was concerned. Helo had seen his face as he asked him to tell Kara he loved her, and it hadn't been the face of someone who loved her like a friend, or a sister.

He just hoped it hadn't been true for Kara as well. For her sake and for Sam's.

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The Admiral held a memorial service for Lee a couple of days later. Kara stood at his side, in the dress uniform the quartermaster had dug out for her. At one point during the priestess' service Adama reached out and clasped her hand in his, and she was thrown back in time to Zak's funeral. It seemed like eons ago. She thought suddenly that everyone who had attended that funeral was dead now, except Adama and herself, and nearly laughed.

Adama had asked her to say a few words about Lee, and she hadn't felt able to refuse. She had no idea what to say, though. How could she say what Lee meant to her in a few words?

She couldn't even define what he had been to her.

Her best friend?

No. Helo was her best friend. She and Lee had not been best friends. Best friends didn't spend half their time flirting with each other. Best friends didn't have jealous arguments about who the other person was frakking. Best friends didn't call out their best friend's name when they were in bed with someone else.

Lovers, then?

But that didn't fit either. She loved Lee – she was only beginning to realise now just how much – but they had never actually been lovers. There had only been that one time during the hunt for Scar, when she was drunk and despairing – and even then, she had pushed him away and told him there was nothing between them. What a frakking ridiculous lie.

Family?

She supposed they had been family, in a way. Even before Zak died, before the Old Man took her under his wing. But she wasn't family, not truly. And she definitely didn't think of Lee as her brother.

So what had Lee been to her? She wasn't sure she could put it into words. In some way he had been best friend, lover, family – and yet, he was more than that. He was her rock, her anchor. Even during the last year, when they hadn't seen or spoken to each other, she had still known that he was there, nearby; and she had always believed that if she really needed him, he would be there for her, despite everything. He always had been before.

The truth of it was that he was just part of her, in some way she couldn't describe. So much so that she half expected to see a gaping hole in her side where he had been ripped away. So much so that she wasn't sure she would ever be the same without him.

But she couldn't say any of those things. Not with Sam sitting there, her husband, looking at her with such love and concern. He didn't deserve to be hurt like that, just because she and Lee had frakked up their lives.

So when Adama beckoned her to the podium, she kept it brief.

"Lee was the best pilot I have ever flown with. The best CAG I ever served under. The best – the best man I ever knew. We are the poorer without him."

Then she fled back to her place in the line, to Adama's stoic face. A few more prayers, and then the service was over.

And that was it. The official end of Lee Adama's life.

All over.

Kara wished she could stop time right there and then. So she didn't have to go on into the future without him.

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But although Lee might be dead, he wasn't gone.

Kara saw him everywhere. They'd made her CAG again, and when she went into her office, there he was, hunched over his paperwork, forehead screwed up in concentration. When she went into the mess, he was kicked back in a chair, drinking a cup of coffee and pulling a face at the sour taste, waving at her to join him. When she finished a briefing she could hear his voice, telling everyone to be careful out there. When she sat in the rec room playing cards, he was sitting opposite her, trying to bluff her with that too-innocent expression in his blue eyes that always gave him away.

When she flew she could see his viper next to hers, copying her every move flawlessly while he grinned at her through the canopy.

Sleep was no escape. He haunted her dreams, too. The places varied – it might be their favourite bar on Picon, his mother's garden in Caprica, running through the corridors of Galactica - but he was always there. And in every dream he ended up shot, bleeding from the chest, choking and drowning in his blood as he pleaded with her to help him, not to leave him. And every time she ignored his pleas and flew away.

After the fourth night of waking up screaming and fending off Sam's anxious questions, she asked Cottle for some sleeping pills. For once, he gave them to her with only a mild sarcastic comment.

That helped with the nights, but they didn't banish Lee during the day.

Not that she minded. She found it comforting, that he wasn't gone completely. She even talked to him sometimes, when they were alone in her office. Told him about problems with the nuggets, about Roslin being re-elected, about Tyrol and Cally's baby. He never replied, although she wished he would. She missed joking with him – even arguing with him.

She was vaguely aware that other people were looking at her with concern. Not just Sam, who was constantly watching her in a way that irritated the hell out of her. He tried to talk to her sometimes, ask her what was wrong, but she always walked away. How could she tell him, after all? How could she tell him she was falling apart because she had lost the man she loved?

She avoided the Old Man, whom she knew she couldn't brush off. She could tell from the way he looked at her though, the few times she came to CIC, that he would be ordering her in for a chat before long. She wished he wouldn't. She was doing her job, and doing it well – if she was functioning there, what else mattered?

Everyone seemed to be asking her if she was fine all of a sudden. Helo, Tyrol, Cally. Even Laura Roslin, on a brief visit to Galactica, looking at her with eyes that saw far too much.

Kara just wanted to scream at them all to stop asking her that. Of course she was fine.

She was fine.

Lee was the one who wasn't.

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After six weeks Sam finally snapped.

Kara got back to their quarters after a night shift CAP to find him wide awake, fully dressed, and with a determined look in his eye.

"Kara, we need to talk."

Frak. "About what?" she said, pulling off her flight suit and wishing he could have waited until she'd had a shower.

"You know about what. We can't go on like this, Kara."

"Like what?"

His face hardened. "You want me to spell it out? Fine. Let's start with the fact that we hardly spend any time together any more. Gods, you've barely spoken to me in days."

"I've been busy," she said curtly.

"Right."

She embraced the anger with relief. "Things are different here than they were on New Caprica, Sam. I have an important job here. I'm the CAG. People rely on me. I can't just drop my responsibilities on a whim."

"I wouldn't call spending some time with your husband a whim."

"No, it's called shirking. Somehow I think defending the fleet is a little more important than frakking."

"Frakking?" Sam snorted. "Some chance. You don't even come to bed half the time, and when you do you're always drunk-"

True enough. It was the only way she could stem the nightmares, now Cottle had refused her any more sleeping pills. But she brushed it away.

"So I have a few drinks to take the edge off. Is that a crime?"

"It's more than a few drinks, Kara. And you're barely eating. It's not healthy."

"What, you're a doctor now as well? Gee Sam, you ought to set up an advice column."

"Stop it Kara!" He moved towards her, backing her up against the wall. "Will you just tell me what's wrong?" he bellowed.

She refused to flinch. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just tired, a little overworked, that's all."

"Bullshit." Sam stared at her for a moment, breathing heavily.

Kara took the opportunity to push his arm away and move out of the corner. She stalked across the room, looking for her towel.

"Is that all? Because I'd like to get a shower and some sleep if it's all right with you."

She could feel Sam's eyes boring into her back as she gathered her things. Just as she was ready to leave, he spoke quietly.

"This is about him, isn't it. You're grieving for him."

She made herself turn round and face him.

"And what if I am? He was my friend. It's only been six weeks." Her voice wavered despite herself. "Aren't I allowed to mourn?"

"Not like this!" burst out Sam. "Gods Kara, anyone would think I was the one who'd died."

For a long moment they stared at each other, frozen, his words echoing around the room. Sam looked slightly horrified, but defiant too. He wasn't taking it back.

Kara didn't know what to say. She couldn't deal with this right now. So she just turned and left without a word. He didn't stop her.

As she stumbled down the corridor, Lee's voice rang clear as a bell in her ears.

You're fine with the dead guys, Kara. It's the living ones you can't deal with.