The virus shifted into its final stage as the fever made his body begin to shake, and Lee stared through the glass wall of the containment cell, wishing he had told her how important she really was.

ooooooooOOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

They should have seen it coming. He was the Commander's son, one of the most powerful, influential people left in this world. The target on his back was as wide as the canyons on Tauron.

It started slow, like a nagging cold that just wouldn't go away. Cottle grounded him when he collapsed from exhaustion in the middle of a pilot briefing. He was put on an IV and expected to be at one hundred percent by the next morning.

In reality, it only took an hour for Lee to start declining. He lost his ability to keep any sort of food down around the same time that his ability to concentrate for more than a minute faded away. It wouldn't have been that odd if there was a fever present. There was no fever. His mind was simply checking out. Cottle suggested severe exhaustion and ordered him to stay in sickbay indefinitely.

His blood tests came back clean of all viruses known to the Twelve Colonies, but by that time, the rash had started. First it was a small red splotch on his stomach and then it moved up his torso onto his neck and down his arm. There had been a few jokes about colonial pox which Lee did not appreciate even in his inability to concentrate.

No one was worried until the day Sharon Valerii demanded a meeting with the Admiral. No one had told her about what was happening to Lee until Helo let it slip that morning. It didn't seem like something the Cylon needed to know.

Things happened fast after that. Lee was ushered off to a quarantine cell. He was moved by three medics wearing containment suits they had actually borrowed from the deck crew. They passed no one in the corridors, which was odd in itself. The fact that they had to walk past both the mess and the briefing room was what first made Lee realize that whatever was happening, it was big. He was hooked up to a bunch of machines, but none of the medics would answer him when he asked what the frak was happening.

It was Colonel Tigh who would explain to him the next day that he was the target of an attack from the Cylons. They somehow infected him with a virus. The Fleet had no idea how to treat it.

At least that's what he thought Tigh was saying. It was around that time that the headaches started so Lee had a hard time focusing on voices.

The rash went down within the day, and Cottle quickly explained it away as a symptom of the virus and not an actual sign. Lee was secretly grateful. The rash was what made it obvious that he was sick. Without it present, he figured he could start pretending everything was all right and maybe they would believe him.

Lee was never lonely. There was always someone there telling him how things were going. His father visited at least once an hour, which if he was a little more coherent would have worried Lee. Cottle stopped by every time there was a shift in his condition. The pilots liked to feed him gossip and tell him how horrible it was without him. He was pretty sure they were lying about that last part, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

There was one significant visit from Sharon. Lee hadn't realized the Cylons were capable of guilt until she came to talk to him. She kept saying over and over again that it didn't make sense. She wasn't the Sharon who had served under her. The first time they met, he held a gun to her face. She shouldn't feel guilty for not seeing this coming. It was in that moment that Lee realized what Helo had been trying to tell him for months. Things were complicated when it came to this Cylon model.

Lee found himself forgiving Sharon even though for the first time in his life, he wasn't blaming others for what happened to him. This virus was no one's fault except for the enemy they were fighting. It could have happened to anyone if they were as highly connected as Lee was. Frak, it could have been Helo or even Sharon herself in this predicament.

The process was slow as the virus took hold. Lee could feel the small, subtle steps towards the end, but he would never tell anyone. They all still had hope. He was Apollo, god of the sun. He was invincible in a way that no one else was. He had come back from the dead too many times to count. Though most of those times were because of…

The gods had done their fair share of watching over him throughout the years

His body held itself at a shaky but stable point for weeks. Cottle told him that his body was trying to fight off the virus. Lee knew better, but he kept quiet. His father started telling him how Dr. Baltar was working with the medic that had saved his life when Boomer shot him point blank. William Adama seemed to think that with those two brains on the job, they would find a way to beat this virus. Again, Lee kept quiet.

He started plummeting fast a few days earlier, and with that, he stopped staying silent. He asked for a pen and paper and wrote a list of names. These were the people he wanted to see before the end.

Some of the meetings were superficial. Some were meant to say goodbye. Some were meant to say carry on. They were all important to Lee in some way.

Colonel Tigh was the first. Lee had a feeling the aging man just wanted to get this over with. He could imagine the stress on the shoulders of his father's best friend right now. Lee kept it short. He told Saul that although they had never agreed, he trusted him to make sure his father stayed rational. He apologized for that day on Colonial One, the one they never talked about. He didn't say he was sorry for his actions, just that he wished things could have gone differently.

Tigh had told him he was a good soldier and, in the end, a good son.

Cally came along later that day with Helo beside her. Lee smiled. It was a image he wanted to remember. The deckhand with the small hands who cared for him too much but never said a word. Helo whispered something to her and then moved to the back of the room.

Lee's message was simple. He thanked her for being so meticulous with his bird, even in those first few days before the attack back when everyone thought he was an arrogant bastard. Cally stifled a giggle at his use of such colorful words, and Lee shut his eyes for a moment. It was another memory made.

Cally smiled and promised him that she would keep fighting. Then she did something completely odd. She glanced back at Helo and then took a few steps closer to the cell's wall. Her words were so soft that Lee swore not even a Cylon could hear them. "I'll watch over her Viper just like I watched over yours."

This was one of those moments that Lee never saw coming, the kind that ripped out his stomach and crumpled his heart.

Helo stepped forward when Cally left. He looked nervous. Lee started speaking immediately, not waiting for the superficial greetings or the expected silence. By the time he was done, Helo looked even more nervous. Obviously, he wasn't expecting Lee to tell him to fight for Sharon. He asked if delirium was part of the virus, and Lee laughed for the first time in days.

Kat was the most hesitant. It made sense considering she and Lee had never had much of a relationship outside the parameters of CAG and pilot. Lee started by telling her he wouldn't keep her for long, which earned him a roll of the eyes. It was that small gesture that told him he hadn't been wrong about Louanne Katraine.

His words were short and concise. His head hurt too much for him to do this tactfully. He told Kat that she was a good pilot, probably the best out of all the post-holocaust ones. He asked her to help keep the pilots in order for their new CAG. There wasn't a need for either one to say who that new CAG would be. Everyone knew. There was only one person who could replace Apollo.

The salute Kat gave him before leaving was another memory, another moment of joyful ache.

The exchange with Dee was short, mostly talk about regrets. They didn't come out and say it, but they both had an inkling of what might have happened if things were different. Then again, Lee had learned nothing was for certain. Dee gave him a sad smile before leaving, and Lee smiled back. Ana was going to be just fine.

The last person to see him was Laura Roslin, but he didn't mind. Honestly, Lee was just happy she could find an open time slot in her schedule to see him at all. It was only after she was gone that he got word that the President was supposed to be in negotiation talks with the crop ships currently demanding a larger say in the government.

Lee was only a few words into his message to Laura when his head started screaming with pain. He let himself indulge in the luxury of sitting down on the floor as the wave of nausea whipped through him. He had been trying so damn hard to pretend like he was going to be okay. He didn't want to shatter everyone's hopes. But if he couldn't let his weakness show in front of this woman who had so painfully gone through the end stages of cancer right in front of his eyes, the woman who chose to include him in the handful of people who knew about her illness before it became an issue, this woman who had treated him, respected him, like a son… if not her, then who?

When Laura didn't flinch, he knew that he had thought right.

She stayed composed the whole time he was speaking. The only sign she was struggling at all was the way her bottom lip started to tremble when he told her he would change nothing about the choices he had made.

It had been a long day of speaking from the heart, but Lee was grateful to have the chance. Most pilots were snuffed out before they could settle their affairs. He had managed to talk to every single person on his list before things got too bad.

His father came to speak with him in the middle of the night. Lee kept his eyes shut, feigning sleep as his father's gruff voice filled the quiet containment cell. Tigh had told him about the list. William Adama kept talking until the words caught in his throat. Lee could hear his sobs, muffled though they might be, and knew in that moment, his father had lost hope.

Lee hated himself. Even dying, he couldn't face his father being weak.

After his father left, Lee opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. Every cell in his body was screaming for this to end. Cottle said these muscles spasms were normal for someone whose resistance was as worn down as his. Lee was pretty sure the Doc was just feeding him bullshit. No one had a clue what was happening to him.

His mind ran through each name on that list, hoping he could be distracted from the pain festering inside him. Each conversation was replayed, and Lee decided that he had talked to every person he needed to. There was a noticeable absence on that list, but in reality, it had never been an option.

Her name wasn't on the list for two reasons. She would never come even if he asked, and he knew his father enough to know that William Adama would take care of that part of his goodbye without him having to ask outright.

Lee heard a small movement on the other side of his cell and let his eyes slid shut for a moment. He wasn't sure if he was ready for this.

He kept his ears open for the sounds of her leaving. All he could hear was his heart pounding.

It took a few minutes for Lee to push the pain away enough to sit up. When he did, he saw her standing there in the middle of the room. She didn't look upset or hopeful or sad or confused. She simply was.

Lee staggered the few steps and leaned against the wall as the movements put a strain on his body. He could feel the change already, and he just knew. The virus shifted into its final stage as the fever made his body begin to shake, and Lee stared through the glass wall of the containment cell, wishing he had told her how important she really was.

"Kara." His voice was raspy from a few hours lack of use.

She shifted her gaze to the ground, and Lee wondered if she was regretting her decision. He shut his eyes and silently pleaded with the gods. For once, don't let her run.

Her eyes darted up to meet his, and she licked her lips. Lee watched as she tried to say something and then paused. Her body shifted slightly, but the room stayed silent. He could see her shoulders rise and fall with each breath. She was struggling.

Pain slammed into him, and it was too much for his already weak body. His body slid down the clear divide between them. Lee leaned his forehead against the cool glass. It felt like heaven on his fevered skin. He wished he could keep his eyes open, but it hurt too much.

A tiny voice in the back of his head screamed that he wasn't ready yet. He hadn't said goodbye to his father.

Lee felt a small shift in the air even though he knew it was impossible and forced his eyes open. Kara moved forward to stand in front of the glass. He stared up at her. He knew if he blinked, if he took his eyes off her for even a second, she would disappear.

Kara slowly slid down to kneel on the floor, and her hand moved to touch the glass where his hand was bracing his body from falling completely to the floor. He was weak for the first time in his life, and he hated that she had to see him this way.

"I can't even touch you."

Her words were gentle, but there was a hint of sorrow. Lee moved his attention away from her lips to see the tears pooling in her eyes.

"I don't know how to do this, Lee."

"Do what?" he whispered.

"Say goodbye." Kara's fingers moved against the glass, and Lee swore he could feel the shift of warmth.

He nodded in agreement. That was the third reason he didn't put her name on that list. He felt his eyes slid shut again. He was so tired.

"This isn't fair. You shouldn't be going out this way. It's too quiet, too… I don't know." Kara sniffled softly, and Lee opened his eyes to see tears running down her cheek. Gods, all he wanted to do was wipe them away. That's all he had ever wanted to do. "I've failed you, haven't I?"

"No." His voice was a whisper. It was all he could manage.

"Yes. Yes, I have, and I hate that. I hate that I have to sit back and watch you die knowing there is absolutely nothing I can do to change it. I can't save you no matter how hard I try, Lee, and it kills me. I'm Starbuck. I'm supposed to be better than that. I'm supposed to make the impossible possible, and yet I can't even figure out a way to save my best friend."

Lee listened as Kara's words faded into sobs. Opening his eyes, he felt his heart break in two. She was crying for him. This indestructible miracle of a woman was crying for him. He watched in wonder until her shoulders finally stopped shaking. She sniffed lightly and pushed the tears away from her face. When she finally looked up at him again, he smiled. "So I'm your best friend?"

Kara chuckled and leaned her forehead against the glass. Leave it to Lee to focus on that part of her outburst. Lee shifted his body a few inches even though it hurt more than he could imagine. "Take care of my father for me."

"No," Kara whispered, shaking her head. "We're not doing this."

"Kara."

"Lee."

She was pleading with him, and his heart wrenched from his body. He would save her this pain if he could. "He needs you, Kara. Please promise me that you'll be there."

Kara felt the tears threatening to fall again. "I promise."

"Good." Lee felt the pounding in his head intensify, and his vision went white. Sleep was nagging at the back of his head, only he had a bad feeling that that wasn't exactly it. He felt his hand slid away from the glass.

"Lee."

"I love you, Kara. I always have, and I always will."

"No. You cannot do this to me, Lee. You cannot do this."

Lee could hear her voice ringing in his head, but she sounded too far away. She was crying again. The glass was cold between them. "I'm… I'm sorry I couldn't be stronger."

"Please. Don't do this."

The shivering suddenly stopped, and Lee felt the pain suddenly melt away. The pressure was gone. The fever, the ache, the deep hurt in his heart, it was fading. "Love you."

Lee felt that familiar shift again and smiled.

"I love you, too."

Her words were the last thing he would remember.

ooooooooOOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

In the morning, William Adama went to check on his son as he did every day. He found Kara leaning against the barrier of the containment cell, her hand pressed to the glass where his son rested, tears staining her cheek.

And he knew.