A/N: Here it is: The big move away from angst! We get to see Real Kara again, yay! Thanks to everyone who is following.

Title: Chasm and Flood, Part 4?

Author: abelard

Rating: M

Spoilers: Mentions of stuff through S2, pure spec on my part

Summary: Lee loses Kara, and finds her again. Speculation on why the Cylons keep telling Starbuck she has a "special destiny." LeeKara, of course.

Feedback: Please!

Archive: Yes, just let me know.

Disclaimers: Not mine, etc.

Part 4

No one could talk to him; no one even tried. Everyone on Galactica knew what they'd get if they tried speaking to the CAG on anything besides the most essential matters: a hard stare, a shrug, a slinking away of his gaze from yours. It had been like that for almost two months, but for the last week, ever since the Admiral grounded him, it had been worse. Now the CAG was drunk and they all knew it. And there was still no talking to him, and nothing they could do. He just seemed to be disappearing further and faster into his grief over Starbuck, and he wouldn't accept a lifeline if it were thrown to him.

For all those reasons, it surprised Helo when Apollo reached out to him one day.

"Did you ever frak her?" Apollo asked. Helo heard him over his shoulder in the bunkroom, turned and saw the once-proud, formerly well-groomed Major Adama slouching in the doorway. The Major obviously hadn't shaved in a week, since he was taken off Viper duty indefinitely. Helo wondered if he'd showered since then. He hoped so, since it appeared he was about to enter into conversation with the man.

"Did I ever frak who?" Helo asked.

"You know who," Apollo said. And Helo did. He also knew why Apollo was asking.

"Never," Helo answered honestly. "Not even when we were both so trashed we couldn't remember each other's names. We were always just friends."

Apollo stared at Helo for a few moments, as if assessing the truth of what the Lieutenant had just said. Seeming to be satisfied, Apollo said, "Okay. Come with me."

Helo didn't have shift for another three hours and had planned on getting some rack time and some visiting time with Sharon in there, but he guessed it wasn't meant to be. He and the CAG had never gotten along since Apollo held a gun to Sharon's head, but Starbuck had had some kind of soft spot for Apollo, and Helo figured he owed it to his dead friend to look after the man if given the chance.

Helo followed Apollo to an empty supply room and was surprised when Apollo produced a bottle of actual ambrosia – not just the rotgut Chief and his knuckle-draggers brewed up – from his pocket. "Amazing what you can still trade for," said the CAG. Helo thought with a surprising bit of remorse at how Apollo used to keep himself immaculate even under the worst of circumstances, how he used to put his uniform to rights even after hand-to-hand combat. Now Apollo was just...sloppy.

Apollo took a long, hard swig from the bottle, then handed it to Helo. "Here," he said. Apparently, Helo was about to get just as sloppy, with his superior officer's full knowledge and consent.

Well, hell, he deserved a good drink, they all did. Helo took a healthy gulp of the amber liquid and exhaled afterwards. Damn, but that felt good. He handed the bottle back.

"Now, talk," said the CAG.

"Look, Major...," Helo started, unsure of what was expected of him.

"I'm Lee. And you're Karl. I'll forget who your girlfriend is if you just...talk to me. I can't listen to myself anymore, I'm driving myself crazy."

Karl nodded. "Too many voices talking at you?" he guessed.

Lee shook his head vigorously. "Too few. Too few voices. It's damn quiet in here. The silence is killing me."

After that cryptic statement, Karl decided it was just better to keep Apollo company than leave him alone. This is for you, Kara, thought Karl. "Okay, I'll talk." He slid down till he sat on the cold floor of the supply closet; Lee did the same against the opposite wall. "Do you want me to talk about Starbuck, or not talk about her?"

"I don't know," Lee said. "I don't know if there's a right answer to that."

Gods, but the CAG was in desperate straits. "Okay, I'll just talk, and you tell me if you want me to switch topics. How's that?"

Lee nodded.

Helo talked, and kept on talking, and they met up the next time they were both off-shift, and Helo talked some more. It went on like that for another week. Helo didn't know where Lee got all his booze. Sometimes it was the Chief's stuff, but other times it was the real thing. Apollo must have found something Tigh needed badly; that was the only stash of booze left on the whole ship, Karl thought. Karl drank some of it, but not half so much as Lee did. Mostly, he just talked and tried to make sure the Major was engaged, if even mildly. He tried to get Lee to talk, too, though that rarely worked.

One day, the Admiral summoned Helo to his private quarters. "How's he doing?" the Old Man asked.

"Sir..." Helo paused, wondering how to answer truthfully, without giving the Old Man cause for even more concern than he was already feeling over his son. "If there ever was an officer in need of shore leave, it's the Major," Helo said finally. "I just wish we had a way to give him some R&R, Sir."

Adama gave Helo a look that would have been a glower from any other officer, but Helo had served under the Old Man for years, now, and knew that look to be a hopeful one. "As a matter of fact, we may have just found a way, Lieutenant."

Helo dared a half-smile. "What do you mean, Sir?" he asked, knowing whatever Adama was going to say next, it would be good news.

"Apparently, we've stumbled onto a planet. With an oxygen atmosphere. Fit for human life."

"No sh—really, Sir?" Helo responded, avoiding profanity in front of the Admiral just barely.

"Not only that, but it appears there are a few thousand humans living there now," Adama said.

Helo let his half-smile grow into a full one. "Earth!" he exclaimed.

"No, not Earth," Adama replied, and Helo's joy collapsed just a little. "This planet has very little advanced technology, and hasn't discovered space travel yet. It's also very small, no more than four thousand inhabitants. We're assuming that Earth, being the thirteenth colony, will be more populated and more technologically developed."

"So if this isn't Earth, where did these people come from?" asked Helo.

"We're not sure. They could have splintered off centuries ago from the twelve colonies; perhaps their ancestors purposefully broke off contact with the rest of civilization and regressed their technology to go back to an earlier, simpler way of living," said the Admiral.

Helo had heard of such things happening. "Could be. Anyway," he said, "what does this have to do with your...with the CAG, Sir?"

"I'm going to send down several teams to investigate the planet undercover. I want them to blend in with the population, find out their history, their culture...and I want you and Apollo to be one of those teams." Adama said the last bit quite meaningfully.

"Ah, I see," Helo said. "We're going to be the team...without much of a mission."

"That's correct," the Admiral said. "I've noticed Lee lets you close to him these days. You're the only one. As you said, what he badly needs is rest and relaxation. I want you to take him down there, make sure he sees the ocean, the sun, and doesn't do any damage to himself. When our other ground teams have gathered enough intel, we'll call you and Apollo back."

Ocean. Sun. All of a sudden, Helo felt guilty that he'd actually enjoy this babysitting mission. "Aye aye, Sir. Thank you for this assignment, Sir."

"Thank you, Helo," said Adama. Helo was glad that, despite his involvement with a cylon – one who looked just like the model that had put two bullets in Adama – the admiral had never lost faith in him. "Lee just hasn't been himself since..."

"For your sake, Apollo's, and hers, Sir, I'll do my best with him," Helo said, saving the Admiral from having to say much more.

They saluted, and Helo exited.

Helo and Apollo boarded a raptor the next morning. They were one of six pairs. All the other teams carried intelligence-gathering equipment; not them. They only had their comms, the clothes on their backs, which they hoped would pass for local, and a few items that might be tradable. The other five teams fanned out immediately after the raptor landed, and Karl and Lee were on their own.

Lee admits the wind feels good against his skin. He hasn't felt wind since...since Kobol, and Kara was with him then to experience it.

Of course he wishes she were here now. He always wishes she were with him. How could she think that he doesn't want her...But that wasn't her, Lee has to remind himself. That was a ghost. Still, he feels like shit every time he remembers the tears on her face when he told her to go. He can't stand thinking that any incarnation of Kara would believe he doesn't need her desperately.

Since Kara's ghost stopped haunting him on the Galactica, Lee has stopped looking for her, but now he and Helo are on this tiny planet, seeing other humans they've never seen before, and Lee can't help but search for her in the crowd. They're in some kind of marketplace, and it's bustling with activity. People carrying baskets and filling them up with greens, root vegetables, fruits, bread.

"It's amazing how similar humans are everywhere," Helo says at Lee's right shoulder. "Except these ones are a millennia or two behind our times."

It's true; it's like stepping into a history book. Everyone wears the kind of clothing that Lee's seen in picture books from the middle times, long tunics and dresses that almost touch the ground. Simple, hardy fabrics that look handwoven. There aren't machines anywhere, at least not what Lee would call machines. Everything's made of wood and stone, and the only metal they've seen are knives.

These people haven't ever seen a battlestar, or a Cylon, or war on the scale of nuclear holocaust. They've never known what it is to watch an entire planet destroyed. They can't even comprehend that. Lee is glad for them, and he takes in the sight of children holding on to their mothers' hands, farmers selling their produce, with a kind of happiness – not happiness for himself, he's not sure he'll ever have that again, but a kind of joy for them, that they have this peaceful existence.

Lee's jostled slightly from behind; they've reached a busier, more crowded part of the marketplace. He sees a flash of gold amidst all the bobbing heads and automatically follows it with his eyes. It's strange, but he feels closer to her, feels her spirit or soul or essence, more strongly on this planet than he has since...since he last saw her ghost on the ship. He almost laughs at himself, thinking one of the women on this small, lost planet will bear any resemblance to her.

But there's something in the way the golden-haired woman walks. Her shoulders straight and back, she's got such a confident stride, and the color of her hair is almost exact, pulled back in a low ponytail that leaves some strands around the face. If only he could see her face. Starbuck would never wear a dress like that, of course, lilac-colored with long sleeves like that; Lee's never seen her in a dress except for the one time, long ago.

Why doesn't she turn around? Lee wonders, and before he knows it his legs are moving. He's pushing through the crowd to keep that blonde head in his sights. If only she'd stop and buy something. Lee is mindful of whether the woman belongs to anyone, if a small boy comes and tugs on her skirt, or if a man puts a possessive arm around her, but no, the woman stays alone, shopping by herself among the various stalls, but never stopping at one.

Finally, at the stand that sells something like turnips, she halts, picks one up, half turns to view her finding in better light, and puts in the basket that hangs from her arm, and there, Lee can see her face.

Gods, it can't be. It can't be, but it is.

"Kara!" he shouts. "KARA!" he shouts again, with all his might. The crowd stills for just a moment; Lee sounded like a wild animal even to himself. Even she looks up at the crazed sound; their eyes meet. Those are her eyes, hazel with the edges of green, and that mouth, wide and expressive, and that face. It's her it's her it's her.

"Kara! Kara!" Lee pushes his way bodily, using more force than he should because he can't really control himself, and at last he reaches her, and he wasn't delusional and this isn't a dream. He's six inches from her and it's Kara, alive, alive!

"Kara," he pants, winded from his effort to get to her, from his amazement, his elation.

"Yes," she says, calmly, a very slight, but amused, smile on her face and in her eyes. "My name is Kara."