Title : Break
Author : Helen C.
Rating : PG-13 for violence
Summary : He should have known then and there that it would all end with a stupid attempt at taking over the ship.
Spoilers : Everything aired so far (up to 3x11) is fair game.
Pairings : Lee/Dee, glimpses of Lee/Kara, but the pairings aren't the point of the story.
Disclaimer : The characters and the universe were created and are owned by Ronald D. Moore and Universal Television Studios to name but a few. No money is being made. No copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AN. Huge thanks to my beta, Joey, who gave this a look even though BSG is not her fandom of choice.
Part Two
Lee comes back to himself, eventually.
He's sitting propped up against a wall.
His hands are still tied, and so are his ankles.
The fact that he doesn't remember when and how that happened would probably worry the hell out of him, under normal circumstances.
The last marine of the team is with him, looking at him from his place against the opposite wall with an undecipherable expression.
"Sir? You're all right?" he asks.
Lee bites back on the incredulous laugh that wants to escape.
If he starts laughing now, he'll lose it completely, and when the rescue team arrives, that's how they'll find him—stuck in a room with a marine, laughing so hard it hurts, and he'll go totally insane if that happens.
"No," he croaks.
He takes in the other man's appearances. Bruises, cuts, what looks suspiciously like a burn on his neck.
A kind of faraway look in his eyes.
He clears his throat before asking, "You?"
"No, Sir."
They stay silent for a while.
At least, it looks like the bad guys decided to stop shooting them.
Did they finally understand that they wouldn't get answers that way?
Lee refuses to think about Dee.
About how she looked when these bastard shot her.
The marine—Williams, the man's called Williams, Lee remembers—is still looking at him worriedly.
"Sir? Do you know where the others are?"
"Dead," Lee replies shortly, almost distractedly.
They were asking questions, you see, and I didn't answer them, so they—
He stops thinking and resumes staring at his feet.
"Sir?"
He raises his head.
"Hm, they kind of teach us how to keep concealed weapons."
Slowly, the thought of concealed weapons makes its way into Lee's brain, until he realizes what Williams is telling him. "Right." He swallows. "Where?"
"My belt, sir."
Lee sighs as he analyzes the few feet separating him from the marine. If he can move, he'll have to crawl the whole way. It's going to take him forever.
Well, then, you better start moving now, right?
Sighing again, he starts moving.
"Major Cottle's going to have a field day with the both us, sir, isn't he?" the marine says, probably to distract Lee from the fact that everything hurts like hell right now.
Lee manages a smile, and for a second, everything's normal, and this is just one of their missions-gone-wrong, and they'll laugh about it once they're released from the Doc's care.
Then, it comes crashing down on him again, and Lee grits his teeth and puts all his energy into reaching Williams.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
When the men come back, Lee and the Williams are ready.
There are five of them.
No match against the infuriated Lee Adama and the no less angry marine.
Lee allows them to drag to his feet, playing the part of the rag doll, allowing them to support his weight, to drag him near the door, vaguely aware of Williams doing the same thing.
Then, without warning, Lee shoots up, elbows one of his guards in the throat as hard as he can, enjoying the stunned expression and the gurgling sound that escapes the man.
Another of the guards launches at him.
Don't think.
Lee sidesteps him.
Don't think.
Trips the man.
Don't think.
Lunges for the weapon he's carrying on his belt.
Don't think.
Secures the weapon.
Don't think.
Shoots the man.
Don't think.
Whirls on himself.
Don't think.
Takes aim.
Don't think.
Fires three shots in quick succession.
Don't think.
Then, the flurry of movement stops.
Williams is standing, the fourth guard at his feet, his neck twisted.
He's holding the fifth man in a painful-looking hold—Lee knows that with the slightest increase in pressure, the man's arm will break.
"Sir?" the marine says hesitantly.
Lee looks down at the gun in his hand.
"I…" he starts.
He stops.
Now what?Then, there are shots further down the corridor, and seconds later, Starbuck enters the room, business like, and assesses the situation with one glance.
"Oh, you guys were ready to leave?" Her sassy tone is typical Starbuck, both infuriating and comforting.
She frowns when her eyes fall on Lee.
"Major?" She takes a step towards him. "Lee?"
The room start spinning and he sinks to his knees, hanging his head.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
He never really loses consciousness.
He never really reacts to Kara's strident questions either, or to the way she drags him to the Raptor, yelling at Galactica to have a med team at the ready when they land.
He just goes through the motions, sitting when he's told to sit, nodding when he's asked if he's all right.
Floating.
Disconnected.
He's worrying everyone, he knows, and he should really care about that, but he doesn't.
Nothing seems to matter anymore.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"What's your name?"
Lee answers automatically. "Major Lee Adama, CAG, Battlestar Galactica."
"Where does it hurt?"
"Major Lee Adama, CAG—" he starts.
A resounding "Frak!" makes him open his eyes. He closes them again just as fast, groaning at the harsh lights all around.
He had time to spot Cottle, though.
"Sorry," Lee manages.
There's a tense silence, then a familiar voice on his left asks, "Son, do you know where you are?"
"Galactica?"
Cottle's voice is literally dripping sarcasm when he asks, "Is that an answer or a guess?"
Lee tries to open his eyes again, and decides that seeing what's going on around him is definitely not worth the pain.
"Educated guess," he says.
He hears a snort on his left. He can almost picture Cottle shaking his head.
"Dad?" Lee says, hoping his voice sounds more firm than he thinks it does.
He feels a hand on his shoulder. "I'm here, Lee."
They killed Dee, he wants to say. Did you know?
"Don't think you're getting out of this neuro exam," Cottle warns. Lee can feel hands on him and tenses, startled. He forces himself to relax, as much as he can, but he can tell he's not doing a good job.
He can feel his clothes being cut off, as Cottle continues, "But frankly, the rest of you looks in even worse shape than your brain." The unsaid, "And that's saying something," almost makes him smile.
Then, the hands start prodding, and damn but everything hurts—he's pretty sure getting beat up in the first place wasn't that painful—and when hands press firmly on his left side, he hears a distant yell and surrenders to darkness.
TBC