Title: "The Weight is a Gift"
Author: Lila
Rating: R
Character/Pairing: Kara, with a little bit of everyone else
Spoilers: "Rapture" but veers AU with spoilers through "Crossroads: Part II"
Length: Part II: D of III
Summary: Everyone has to grow up sometime, even Kara Thrace.
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing them for a few paragraphs.
Author's Note I know it's been a long, long time since the last update, but grad school has totally kicked my ass (and won), and it took a cold and lying in bed for a few days and a viewing of "Waitress" to get my act in gear and work on the fic. So hurray, part two is done! This is it, the last section before Kara has the baby, and we complete our journey. This section is a little different than the previous ones because the love triangle, or whatever it is, is at the forefront. This fic isn't a romance, but Kara's relationships with the two men in her life play an important role in her growth process, and I wanted to take some time and figure that out before she moves forward. Thank you again for the wonderful feedback for this fic – I often struggle with completing multipart fics, but consistent support is the best way to keep me going! I hope you enjoy.
EIGHT
Her due date gets closer and Kara gets bigger. She keeps a calendar in her new quarters and marks each passing day in bright red ink, one step closer to the end, one step closer to freedom. She works half shifts in the CIC now, and falls into an uneasy routine with Gaeta. There's tension between them, thick and heavy and hard to escape in the narrow confines of the CIC; impossible to escape with her ever expanding girth clogging the aisles. At first she tells herself it's about Dee, because they're friends and he's been her shoulder to cry on and his loyalty lies with the wife, not the mistress.
It turns out it has nothing to do with Dee and everything to do with the time she almost let her husband and Tigh and a bunch of grief-obsessed refugees shove him out an airlock.
The president and her panel set a date for Baltar's trial, and Gaeta's mouth tightens and his eyes blaze as they listen to the announcement over the com. "I hope they airlock his ass," she mutters under her breath as the announcer continues reading the day's news, and across the tactics board Gaeta stiffens. She's confused, because she knows he hates Baltar as much as she does – he tried to kill the man after all – but the fury in his eyes only darkens as they lock on her.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he hisses and she blinks, because it isn't the reaction she'd expected. She knows they're not friends and he totally hates her because of what happened with Dee, but she also thought they'd reached a truce over their long months of working the board. His fingers tighten around a model of Colonial One and he takes a deep breath, not unlike the ones she and Athena practice every afternoon during lunch, and the tight set of his mouth loosens a bit. "Let's just get back to work." He doesn't mention the trial again but the bitter anger doesn't leave his eyes either, and she can't ignore a feeling of guilt that creeps up into her chest.
It's not she hears mention of possible punishments for Baltar over the radio in Cottle's waiting room that everything clicks into place. She remembers the brave, terrified glaze in Gaeta's eyes when they'd pushed him to his knees and threatened to send him into oblivion. She hadn't said a word of protest because back then she'd believed the world could only be seen in black and white because there was no room for shades of gray, not with cylons who looked like humans wanting them dead and gone. She'd ignored the pride in his eyes, concentrated on his crimes and ignored her own, because she was a pilot and they called her a hero and they didn't know about the ugly, black thing that lived inside her. She thinks she gets it now, how people change and circumstances are never the same, because she's no longer a pilot but she's still a hero, and humanity will live no matter what she's like inside.
She remembers a snippet of tape from that long ago film by D'Anna Biers, before they learned how deceiving appearances could be, and spends the next week searching high and low, falling back on the Starbuck charm she long buried beneath layers of baby and bone, and tracks down a box of the finest Caprican cigars. She's never been very good at apologies, and she isn't sure there's a way to say, "sorry for almost killing you," so she wraps a tattered piece of sweatshirt around the box and leaves it at Gaeta's station on the day he turns twenty-five.
He doesn't say anything, because there's really no way to say, "thanks for saying you're sorry for trying to kill me," but he smiles at her the next morning when she waddles to the tactics board, and the morning after that there's a cigar laying on her station, a bit of blue cloth tied in a neat bow. "Only a month left to go, right?" he asks and smiles at her, and it's the first time he's smiled at her since they started working together. Across the room, Dee glares at them both, but Kara's getting used to carrying that burden and Dee's eyes no longer burn.
"Yeah, about six weeks more."
He smiles again, and there's something soft and sympathetic in his eyes. "When you're ready, save that one for me, okay? We'll celebrate." He smiles again before turning back to the board, and she realizes it was forgiveness she saw a moment earlier.
The shift ticks by, but the tension dissipates and eases into something like companionship. There isn't a pinched annoyance shaping his lips when he moves a model for her, and when she looks at him there isn't hatred staring back.
One day she hopes she can look in the mirror, past the swollen cheeks and jaw that seems to be sinking into the folds of her chin, and see the same thing.
---
With reduced time in the CIC, she fills her days with the people that make up Galactica. She has lunch every day with Athena and watches Hera sleep every Friday night so her parents can have time to themselves, and her life falls into a familiar pattern. She likes the routine of it all, even if she's watching other people's babies rather than saving the world. She tells herself it's a variation of the same thing, because these babies will build the future and that's what being a pilot was all about – giving humanity another chance to make it right.
Athena agrees to be her lamaze coach because she can't bring herself to ask Lee or Sam, because it's hard enough with them tagging along to all her doctor's appointments, and she's not sure she can handle them holding her hands through the birth too. She doesn't want to see the looks of awe in their eyes or the tears that will undoubtedly creep down Lee's cheeks or the whispers of adoration Sam will press into her hair, so Athena's the one to hold her hand and set the rhythm of her breathing while Helo watches proudly. She can handle Helo because Athena owns his heart; she can't handle her boys because she doesn't know which one owns hers.
She spends her mornings in the CIC with Gaeta and her afternoons with Cally and Nicky. She still doesn't think she and Cally will ever be friends, but she's less irritating when she's blathering on about her kid and isn't whining about life on the flightdeck. Kara learns how to change a diaper and mash up processed algae and prepare a bath for a life she'll never care for herself. She smiles while Cally prattles on about temperature and drowning in an inch of water, and takes mental notes because she never knows when childcare survival tips will come in handy. She watches Kasey on occasion because Julia's joined the deckcrew as a way of saying thanks for rescuing her from New Caprica, and every now and then she liberates Kasey from daycare and thinks about what might have been.
Kara doesn't miss the food or the clothes and she definitely doesn't miss Leoben or even the triumph that soared through her veins every time she twisted the knife into his ribs, but sometimes she misses the way Kasey used to watch her. She remembers the look in the little girl's eyes, the pure, open trust and devotion, and the belief that everything would be okay because she was there to save her. For gods' sake, she let her tumble down a flight of stairs and split her head open, and Kasey still clung to her thumb like a lifeline.
Sometimes at night she feels the thing in her belly kicking an even rhythm with her pulse and lulling her to sleep, and she imagines that first day when she pushes a new life into the world and the Doc folds it into her arms and it looks up at her with that same blind trust in its eyes. She wonders if she looked at her own mother the same way, and what made the light go out in Socrata Thrace's eyes. She's thankful at the end of the day that she can slip Kasey into Julia Prynne's arms, and know that when her mother pulls the blanket to Kasey's chin and brushes soft curls from her scarred forehead, there will only be love staring back at her former daughter.
When it's all said and done and her belly is empty the way it used to be – the way it should be – she doesn't want to hold the thing that lived inside it. She doesn't want to stare into its eyes and for it to see anything but love staring back.
---
One night Helo and Athena and the Chief and Cally go on a double date and she makes an annoyed Athena repeat the news three times before she's convinced the world isn't coming to an end all over again. "Do you mind watching the kids?" Athena asks as a means of changing the subject, and Kara manages a nod but can't hide the huge bubble of laughter that erupts from her belly. She can hear the Starbuck giggle in it and it only makes her laugh harder, so hard tears spring from her eyes, because she's supposed to be enduring hell on earth but she can tell Athena's going through the same thing from the miserable expression on her face. "It's not that funny," she says, but in only makes Kara double over with laughter and soon Athena's laughing along too.
It's so much like old times, Boomer and Kara getting into trouble and laughing their way out of it, that it makes Kara cry harder and for entirely different reasons because Athena's moved beyond that place. She has a family and a life and she's making amends, and Kara can't even be in the same room with Lee or Sam without feeling like everything she has is falling apart around her. "Oh, honey," Athena says and wraps her in her arms as best she can, the enormous mound of Kara's belly forming a wall between them. "It will be okay, you know that," she croons and Kara knows it has nothing to do with looking after two babies on her own.
Kara remembers when Helo found her crying in her locker and the shame that coursed through her that someone could see the mighty Starbuck in a moment of weakness. This time, she doesn't hesitate to curl into Athena and sigh as her hands rub the tired muscles of her back and she brushes her hair from her brow the way she wishes her mother always would have.
When they break apart Helo is holding Hera in his arms and telling Sharon that it's time to go, and he hands his daughter to Kara, smiling when she sits comfortably on the mound of her belly. "Take a picture," Kara snits. "It'll last longer."
Helo just ruffles her hair while Sharon searches for her purse. "You just wait a couple months, Kara. You'll realize what you're missing."
Kara nods along and wishes them a goodnight, and as she closes the door behind them she catches a glimpse of herself and Hera in the mirror. Hera looks nothing like Lee or Sam or herself, but it doesn't stop her from running a protective hand through the little girl's curls or pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. When Cally and the Chief drop off Nicky she finds herself barefoot, with her hair down, and baby on each hip. She has to laugh at the picture, because Zak used to tease her about their marriage and the life she'd live, barefoot and pregnant and turning out meals, and happier than she could ever imagine. She glances in the mirror again, and for a moment, just a moment, she thinks she could get used to the weight of babies in her arms with their fingers tangling in her too-long hair and their fresh, sweet smell clogging the air. She blinks, because it's only a vision, only someone else's life, and slips the babies into Hera's crib. They curl into one another, arms wrapping around each other like they aren't running for their lives and aren't only a few basestars too many from the world ending again, and she wonders if it's ever really that easy.
Kara clicks on the mobile and watches the vipers spin in easy circles, keeping watch on the future sleeping below. The thing in her belly kicks in time to the cycling vipers and it's a bit like being on CAP again, moving in slow, even rotations through the Fleet and keeping watch on the vestiges of humanity housed within. She drops a hand to the mound of her belly and watches the vipers spin and for a fleeting moment she thinks maybe she can do both, maybe she can save the world and herself at the same time. The mobile clicks off with a snap and the moment ends and all she sees are silent vipers and all she hears are sleeping innocents breathing below.
She turns the mobile back on and drops her hand. There's only room in her life for one kind of hero, and the needs of many always have to come before the needs of one.
EIGHT and 1/2
Baltar's trial moves forward and Lee goes along with it. He starts running security, but by week's end he's wrangled a spot on Baltar's defense team and spends his time trying to save the traitor's life.
Kara itches to give him a piece of her mind and ream him out for defending a man who destroyed humanity, but that would involve talking to him and that's something she and Lee no longer do. He shows up at every doctor's appointment and stands on the other side of the bed from Sam, keeping his eyes averted while Doc Cottle rattles off statistics and gives them updates on the baby's progress. There isn't the bitter burn of New Caprica, but the wounds are reopened and deeper and they don't sting as much but she's not sure they'll ever fully heal. She knows she made the right decision, but it doesn't make it hurt any less.
She's in her eighth month and Doc Cottle offers to tell them the sex of the baby, like he's done for the two months before, and Sam jumps at the opportunity. He still believes he can change her mind, that the baby will be born and wear the name Anders and they can raise it the way people did before the world ended. Lee doesn't fight her and doesn't speak a word of protest, because Sam might know more about her but Lee knows her better and knows the only person who can change her mind is herself.
Lee speaks for the first time of the entire session, and declines the offer. "No," he says and looks her dead in the eye. That bitter fire lurking in his father's a few weeks before has reappeared in his, and he keeps all that anger focused on her. "What's the point? No reason in finding out only to lose it all over again." Sam looks tempted to protest, but one glare from Lee silences him. "It's not worth it, Sam. Not when it isn't going to last."
He doesn't hide the way he's glaring at her, and she hates that it's like that long year of separation all over again, but she can take it because it means he's caring about something, anything, again. "I agree with Lee," she says and Sam looks a little betrayed. "I'd rather not know."
'You're the boss," Cottle sighs and turns off the monitor, looking disgusted with all three of them. "Now out, all of you. I have other patients to see."
Kara drags the gown down over her belly and shoos them both away while she dresses. It's nothing they haven't seen before, except it is, because they could both trace Starbuck's body in their sleep but neither of them knows the new Kara. Their mouths haven't trailed over newly plump cheeks and their palms haven't closed around breasts twice their previous size and their stomachs haven't pressed up against the constantly changing weight she carries in her belly. They might have known her, but she doesn't think they know her now.
When she pulls back the curtain they're watching each other, arms crossed and stances rigid, and they look a little like twins with their matching blue eyes and civilian clothes. She almost doesn't recognize Lee outside his dress blues or the dueling tanks of the daily uniform and he looks uncomfortable in worn jeans and button down shirt as he shifts in place, like he's trying to get comfortable in his new skin. She knows the feeling, because she wakes up every morning and tries to find her footing in a body that no longer feels like her own.
She's tells herself that she's more comfortable with her decision as the end inches closer because she watches the way Athena and Cally watch their babies, and she's not sure she'll ever manage a look of her own. She's never done anything half ass in her life and she's not a quitter, but she knows not to get ahead of herself and start something she can't finish. She only has to look at the burning in Lee's eyes, the yearning in Sam's, to recognize her own failures. She can't bring a life into the world without promising it what's left of the future and knowing she'll see it through with every breath she has left.
She tells herself that Kara Thrace is growing up because she's finally thinking of someone beyond Kara Thrace. She looks at Lee and Sam and what she's done to them, and she knows it's no longer about what she wants. She's had her fun and she's had her time to put Kara Thrace first; it's time to do the same for someone else.
She tells herself it's for the best as she ignores the pleading in Sam's eyes and the hope hidden behind the pain in Lee's and the longing in her own heart. She tells herself it's okay that her life isn't something she recognizes because it means the thing in her belly has a shot at the life she always wanted to live. She tells herself that her life has changed but she can get back to the person she used to be; she ignores the thumping in her belly and how deeply she knows that her life will never be the same again.
---
Lee says goodbye and Sam takes her arm and tells her he'll walk her home. She wants to protest, but she's too tired and she's too worn out and she's missing her old life too much to push away the person who still loves her. She slips her hand in his and he smiles at her and it's almost like old times, smoking and drinking and flirting in the New Caprican dirt. A memory flashes through her mind, hands and skin and sweat and Sam's mouth pressing wetly and moaning "I love you" against her throat. It's been a long time since anyone has loved her that way.
She watches the straight line of Lee's back make its way down the causeway and notes the new assurance in his step as he moves closer to Baltar. He needs it, she thinks, as she follows Sam to her private quarters. She ignores the jealousy that flares in her gut because Lee's found something that makes him happy and gives him purpose while everything she wants is there for the taking and she can't seem to reach it.
Sam asks her yet again to take a leave of absence and for the first time she agrees. He stands blinking in front of her, and she can see him rewinding the speech he had prepared, because he never expected her to say yes on the first try. She doesn't explain and he doesn't pry, and she holds his hand the entire shuttle trip to the Rising Star. She watches the CAP spiral by and the Fleet's lights dance from ship to ship, and tries to ease herself into normal. Her old life meant laughing with Sam and playing house in the mud and building a new future from the ashes of the old one. She has three weeks to go and her life will be hers again, and it will be time to build anew. She's always been one to get a head start.
---
Her first night with Sam is not unlike the early days on New Caprica. Everything is familiar but different, and the air smells more like freedom and less like war. The people wear civvies and talk in slang she hasn't heard since her training days back on Picon. People wave to Sam and he introduces her as his wife, and everyone murmurs congratulations as they shake her hand. She smiles and plays along and she's surprised at how naturally she falls into the role of Mrs. Anders, but soon realizes that if she could fool the people who love her most at playing indulgent mother, she can easily play the loving wife among strangers.
"What do you think?" Sam asks as he shows her to his cabin. It's tiny and cramped but as a favor to the Admiral and his role in the resistance, it's all his. There's a woven blanket on the bed and the walls are painted a pale yellow and it's the first time she's ever set foot in the room and it looks and feels more like a home than any place she's ever lived.
"It's beautiful," she smiles at her husband and blinks away visions of Sam holding a baby in his arms and rocking it to sleep and the way a viper mobile will spark beams of light off the sunny walls.
"Maybe you'll move over here someday?" he asks and she stiffens in his arms while he keeps holding her close. She tries to wriggle away but he knows her too well and holds on tight because he isn't ready to let her go. "It's just an idea. Think about it."
She reminds herself that a new lease on life means starting over and starting fresh. Her husband falls back on the bed and the light reflecting from the walls catches golden strands in his hair and he smiles at her like he'll wait forever because he will.
"I'll think about it," she says and she means it, she really does. Sliding through the tubes in her viper used to be her life but she's gone without it for almost nine months and still managed to save the world once or twice. She smiles against her husband's mouth as he rises up to meet her and she thinks maybe she can make this work.
---
Her first night she watches what's left of the Buccaneers take on a straggler team from Aquaria. They win, easily, and Kara cheers from the bleachers and lets out a blaring whoop when Sam scores the winning goal. She tells herself it's like being back on New Caprica again; she ignores that she's sitting on the sidelines while Sam's having all the fun.
Afterwards she joins Sam and the rest of the team for a victory celebration in the guards' mess hall. There's ambrosia to go around and even a couple bottles of the Chief's finest that Sam smuggled off Galactica, and she watches the players drink and cheer while she sips a glass of water. They play rounds of Triad and drinking games she hasn't enjoyed since her rookie days and she smiles benignly and tries to remember how this was ever her life. It seems so far away, when she could – literally – drink her husband under table and easily defeat any challenger that came along next. She listens to the rounds of gossip about people she doesn't know, and smiles politely while Sam and his friends complain about endless shifts and bad water pressure and coffee shortages and all the tenants of a life that isn't hers. She thinks back, to the day she met Sam, and all she can remember is pyramid and booze and his tongue twisting around hers as he laid her down and slipped his hands under her shirt. She remembers the day she brought him home, and the day after that, ambrosia and laughter and sex in the sunlight, and she can't remember much else.
She sips her water and watches Sam match Jean shot for shot until the redhead throws her hands in the air and her forehead lands on her crossed forearms with a resounding thump. One of the others carts Jean off to bed and Sam keeps the ambrosia flowing and his grin widens and his eyes go soft, and he mumbles something to her about it being like old times. She smiles into a sloppy kiss and agrees because it's what he wants to hear and after all she's done, he deserves to be happy for once; she ignores the nagging feeling that without all the things that used to make up their old life, there's nothing linking them together any longer.
Sam is sober the next morning and shows her around his ship and she laughs at his rigid posture in his Colonial Guard uniform. He doesn't look much like Sam but he looks like the people she left on Galactica, and she thinks she could get used to it. She spends most of the day sleeping to avoid wondering how things are going on back home. She knows they can live without her for a few days and Gaeta can hold down the fort on his own, but she can't ignore the restlessness in her limbs and the nervous tremor that runs through her fingers; they might be able to live without her, but she's not sure she can live without them.
Sam comes home and strips out of his uniform and looks like himself again and spends the night getting to know the new Kara. She's never bothered before, but she asks him to dim the lights because she still can't look at her new body head-on in the mirror and she's not sure she wants to see the look in Sam's eyes when they lock on the rounded belly and newly defined curves. He obliges and strips off her clothes in the darkness, and its awkward because he used to know her body blind, but his fingers trip over the hem of her sweatshirt catching on the rise of her bellybutton. She can't remember a time when he's been so gentle, so slow, and smiles when she remembers how many times she had to put in a request for new gear because they'd ripped apart a shirt or pants in their haste to touch skin to skin.
It's different tonight, nothing like any of the times before, and when Sam lays her down and slides in next to her his skin feels different against hers and it's nothing like old times. Her body doesn't fit with his, and his chest bumps against hers and his hands feels rough against her skin. Everything about her is different and he hasn't been there to see it, and even when his tongue slides over familiar places she doesn't sigh and hook a leg over his knee and pull him closer. She shifts and wills herself back to New Caprica and the sunlight stretching tightly over her bare skin as she stares into the love reflected in her husband's eyes. If he notices he doesn't say anything, just trails his tongue lower and shifts his hands higher and mumbles "I love you" against the bulging mound of her belly.
Tears spring in her eyes because this is how it's supposed to be, a husband and wife and the child they created together, but she's Kara Thrace and nothing in her life has ever gone as planned. They're a husband and wife and but the child between them is visiting on borrowed time. When she brought Sam back from Caprica and kissed him on Galactica, this wasn't the future she'd intended for them.
The bed is large and without the restrictions of a military rack but it's hard to find the right position. She weighs more and her body is a different shape and Sam seems weirded out about having sex with two people at once. She's not sure how she feels about it either but the thing in her belly is thankfully silent and it's been forever since she and Sam have done what they do best, and she tells him that if he's willing to try she'll make the effort too. They shift and move around, but even when they finally find the right fit and he moves inside her, something feels off. She tries to blame it on the thing in her belly, but with the exception of the added weight it's like its not even there. She tries to blame in on the long separation, but she hadn't seen him in months and had thought he was dead before their Galactica reunion and then it had been like water falling over rock – just that easy.
She takes herself back to that magical night, when Sam was hers and warm and alive and whole, and she'd wrapped herself around him in officers' quarters that housed her life. Except Lee pops into the memory, the tight smile curving his lips when he met the man she chose over him, and the surprise and annoyance ringing his eyes when her own jealousy had emerged in her drunken stupor because he had Dee and no longer needed her. She pushes away awkward reunions and sighs against Sam's neck and thinks of New Caprica and the long, heated nights they spent getting to know each other. She feels the night breeze cooling her flushed cheeks, moans as the wet heat of her body slides against his under the stars, but when she comes apart in his arms, the bulge of her belly flush against the hard planes of his abdomen, it's Lee's voice that moans in her ear.
Her eyes slam open and she's staring into her husband's bright blue eyes and he's smiling at her as a bead of sweat drips down his temple, and looking at her as if the last seven months and the year before never happened. "I missed you baby," he whispers against her neck and he kisses her like all is forgiven.
If only she could forgive herself so easily.
She takes deep, gulping breaths as she orders her heartbeat to right itself and her world to return to normal. She's with her husband, with Sam, trying to make things right and make up for a year of betrayal. She wills herself back to New Caprica, to the life she and Sam were building away from Galactica and its memories, but all she sees is Lee laughing in the sunlight and Lee dancing in the twilight and Lee declaring his love in the biting night air. She pushes the memory away before her own declarations ring through her ears. She went to New Caprica because she'd thought the fight was over and the world was safe again and she deserved a time to enjoy the future she'd saved. She has to wonder now, after she's lived it all, if she went to New Caprica to start fresh, or if it was ever about anything but running from Lee.
"Kara, baby?" Sam croons in her ear and his hands run over the huge expanse of her belly. The thing inside is silent for once, like it's finally giving her some privacy and a break from the incessant thumping, but it's the one time she doesn't want to be alone. Sam's fingers lock over the push of her bellybutton and he breathes her in. "We should stay like this forever. I want to be a family Kara."
"Sam," she sighs and twists out of his arms, away from the body that doesn't mesh with hers anymore. "You're not going to change my mind."
It's his turn to sigh and he runs a hand through sweaty hair so it stands up in spiky peaks. She wants to laugh, because it's so cute and endearing and Sam, but she bites her lip to keep it from bumbling up and out and bringing with it the unpredictable emotions that keep escaping from her chest these days. "Kara, why won't you even consider it?" he pushes. "We can do this."
She shakes her head, wishes for Lee's heated anger rather than Sam's constant protests. It hurts and it burns but she understands it because it comes from a place she recognizes. She thinks of Lee curled in his rack, brought back to a life he didn't want. "I didn't want to make it back alive," he'd whispered into the air and she'd felt the breath catch in her throat because she couldn't imagine saving the world without Lee by her side. She couldn't imagine the world at all without Lee. She feels his mouth against hers when she'd kissed him and burned for Sam and his fingers threading through hers as she sank down around him with the stars twinkling above. She feels the emptiness she filled with Sam after she left him in the shadows of her dream house and the heaviness inside her that he might have created.
She looks at her husband who loves her but has yet to understand her. "Sam, I can't do this." She thinks of the stories she's told him, about her mother and the fingers that never splay straight against the muscles of his chest, and she wants him to understand, needs him to understand what she can't say out loud. She's never breathed a word of her past to Lee and he's never pushed her; Sam knows everything and he has yet to open his eyes.
"Okay, okay," he sighs because he knows arguing is futile and pulls her into his arms, cradling her head against his shoulder. Her cheek still fits neatly in the crook of his neck and she closes her eyes, holds her arm to his so their wings meet. He rests one palm on the bulging mound of her belly and says goodnight, to both of them.
He smells like promises and she breathes him in and he fills her up. She holds on tight because she isn't ready to let go.
EIGHT AND 3/4
The trial continues and she never sees Lee and falls further away from Sam. He comes to visit every week, but she doesn't go back to the Rising Star and she tries not to think about the promises she made over there, because she said she'd think about it but even watching the monotony of the CAP circling through the Fleet makes her happier than watching Sam win at Pyramid and score big at Triad.
They don't talk about it either, the family he wants and she knows she can't have, but it hangs between them the way her growing belly pushes them further apart when he holds her close. They can't seem to get it right, fitting together back to chest in the confines of her quarters, but they keep on trying because it's all they have left. He crosses his hands over the mound of her belly while his chest settles against the new padding around her shoulder blades, but the thing in her belly remains silent the way it always does around him. She tries not to look for hidden messages or slips of fate because she doesn't believe in destiny, not when it comes from Leoben's machine-addled brain, but she can't ignore the way it acts as if Sam isn't even there.
"The kid's giving us some alone time," Sam whispers into her hair and she murmurs agreement because she can't explain to him that she hasn't been alone in almost nine months. It used to be Kara Thrace against the world and now it's Kara Thrace plus one and she kind of likes the strength in numbers.
She tells herself it's good that she's learning to be a team player because she'll be an even better pilot when she's back in her bird and training new nuggets how to save the world. She ignores the way her heart skips a beat because on her own she's no longer sure which world is worth saving.
---
A couple days before her due date the thing in her belly is kicking up a storm and she's half convinced it's trying to tell her something with all that beating, so she retreats to the observation deck for a quick look. Nicky has learned to sleep through the night and Cally spends those long hours wrapped up in her family, but she still spends most of her evenings watching the CAP circle by and thinking about what used to be, what will be in a few weeks' time. She sits on the stairs with her belly resting on her knees and her arms wrapped around its weight and sometimes, because she knows no one is listening and everyone else wouldn't believe it even if someone were, she talks to the thing in her belly and explains what's going on in the great beyond.
She talks about the vipers and the pilots and the different maneuvers they pull to break up the boredom, and she talks about training on Caprica and flight school on Picon and about Zak and Lee and the Admiral and life before the world ended. She won't be there to set the stories straight, but she wants the thing in her belly to know there was a world before blood and death and running for their lives, so if – when – they find Earth it will know what to expect. She talks about the people in her life and way Hera laughs when Helo tickles her belly and Nicky's eyes crinkle when the Chief wags his tongue and the way Athena and Cally are struggling to get along because their kids are friends and their husbands kind of like each other and there's no room in what's left of their world for grudges and revenge. She never talks about herself because there's nothing worth knowing about Kara Thrace except she carried a life in her belly for nine months and gave it a shot at living with people who know what happiness truly is.
Hot Dog is on duty tonight and has been practicing barrel rolls and she has a whole list of critiques ready to share with the thing in her belly, but when she steps into the observation deck she isn't alone.
Lee is sitting on the lowest tier, his suit jacket cast over a nearby chair, and his shirtsleeves rolled to the elbows. He's no longer a pilot either but there's still a military precision in the straight slant of his back and the moonlight brings out the coiled muscles in the forearms resting on his knees. She doesn't have to look away because those muscles still do things to her, but it's too late to change her fate.
He doesn't see her and he doesn't appear to hear her either. It's the first time she's been alone with him in months and a million things are running through her brain, but she can't think of a single thing to say. She wants to yell at him for leaving her on her own because he's Lee and she's Kara and he's supposed to be her friend and hold her up even when she cuts him to the bone. She wants to ream him out for his role in Baltar's trial and the verdict that will be handed down in the morning and change the shape of their future. She wants to tell him that she misses him but she's not ready to hear that he doesn't miss her back.
She thinks she should say something mean and cutting, like Starbuck would, but her energy level is seriously depleted these days and she doesn't think she can manage to keep putting up the front. She chooses to keep it simple instead. "Hi," she says and ignores how strangled her voice sounds. After all she's done to him over the past few months, she can take a little embarrassment.
He looks up and his eyes lock on the belly that rests on eyelevel with his face. "Hi," he says in return and his voice is just as strangled and she feels a bit better because they're on equal footing with the awkwardness.
"Can I sit?" she asks and gestures to the spot next to him on the stairway.
"Yeah, of course," he returns and rises to help her. His fingers lock naturally around the sharp point of her elbow, and he eases her to the ground before sitting down beside her. He won't look at her and she can't look at him and the room is enormous but it feels like it's closing in on her with all the tension rising between them. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine. Ready for this to be over." His face tightens and she realizes the mistake she's made. "I'm just ready to see my feet again, you know?"
He nods and she looks away and concentrates on the CAP rather than focus on the awkwardness between them. The seconds tick into minutes and it doesn't get any better. She tells herself it's okay, that he's angry with her but he'll get over it and they'll go back into their uneasy rhythm like they have so many times before. Except this time he won't punch her for sleeping with someone who wasn't him, and even if he could she doesn't think she'd punch him back because she's tired of fighting. She's been fighting her entire life and she's won battles, but she knows she'll never win the war; she doesn't think she has it in her anymore.
"What do you want, Kara?" he finally asks and she snaps out of it long enough to catch the shining fury in his eyes.
"What?"
"Why are you here? What do you want from me? I've given you everything you asked and you just keep taking." He looks at her and there's something lost lurking in his eyes. "I don't have anything left."
She decides she's ready, because she's tired of moping and whining and Starbuck is still buried somewhere inside. "I want to know what happened to you, Lee. Defending Baltar? What the frak is wrong with you?"
"He's a citizen of the colonies. He deserves a fair trail." His voice is flat and emotionless, like she's a reporter for the wire service and not the person who broke him over and over again.
She can't believe what she's hearing. "You have no idea what kind of person he is. He let innocent people die because the only thing that mattered to him was saving his own skin." Leoben dances before her eyes and she can feel his mouth on hers and his fingers tangling in her hair and the bile rises in her throat. "You have no idea what was going on down there because you were too busy enjoying your cushy ride and your hot wife to care about anyone else!"
The words slip out before she realizes what she's saying, and Lee's eyes take on a new level of rage. "Leave Dee out of this. You're mad at me? Fine. Be mad at me. Blame it all on me because you were stupid and you made a mistake and you refused to listen to anyone who tried to help. No one said this was going to be easy, Kara! It's not my fault you won't let anyone in."
"It's not who I am," she whispers and runs a hand through her hair. It's the same game they've been playing since they met: she pushes, he pushes back, and both of them retreat to their own corners to lick their wounds and prepare for the next round.
She knows this isn't about New Caprica or about the trial, not really, but her own decision and the consequences they're both living with. She's still no good at apologies but she can't take the pain Lee's eyes and with the new weight dragging her down she isn't sure she can bear any more burdens. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Lee," she manages to say. "It's just that…we're pilots. I don't think we're made for anything else."
He looks down at his civilian suit, the cast-off sweatshirt she's wearing. "I don't think either of us are pilots anymore." Outside Hot Dog puts in a good effort but his barrel roll makes her eyes bleed a little and Lee laughs. "Amateurs," he says because both of them could pull the same maneuver perfectly with their eyes closed and one hand tied behind their backs, and she laughs too because it no longer feels awkward and it's starting to feel more like old times.
"I don't like Baltar," Lee volunteers and it should feel weird, opening that can of worms again, but it just feels the way it used to when she could talk to him about anything and everything and know he was listening because she mattered to him. "I actually kind of hate him."
"And you're giving up your career to save his sorry skin. Time to jump off the pedestal, Lee."
"I mean what I said – he deserves a fair trial."
He looks right at her and the anger is gone from his eyes, but the challenge is still there, Apollo trying to one-up Starbuck, and she won't back down. "Why are you doing this?"
He won't look away and his eyes are the clearest, the most honest she can remember. "You told me to find something worth living for. I took you up on the challenge."
She laughs, again, but there's no humor in it. "So you're giving up everything you ever worked for to save Baltar?" She gestures to the huge mound of her belly. "If I could, I'd knock some sense into myself."
Lee's eyes lock on her belly again and something soft and warm creeps into his expression. "I'm doing this for you, you know." He reaches out and rests his hand over the swell of her belly and the thing inside kicks into his fingers like they belong there.
"What are you talking about?"
He turns away and looks out at the CAP spiraling though the sky, but he keeps his hand locked firmly against the tiny fist or foot beating against her skin. "There was this girl back on Caprica. Her name was Gianne. I was going to marry her." A ghost of a smile creeps across his face, the kind of smile Kara's only seen reserved for her, and it hurts a little deep inside that there's someone else to affect Lee so deeply. "She died back on Caprica." Kara thinks she should maybe say she was sorry or extend her condolences, but it doesn't seem to be that kind of story and Lee keeps talking, eyes locked on the CAP, expression strained. "We were going to have a baby." His fingers flex against her belly but hold on like they won't let go. "I told her it was too soon, I wasn't ready. I could marry her but parenthood wasn't on the agenda yet." He pauses, swallows heavily. "I left for the decommissioning ceremony on Galactica and she stayed behind. We were going to take some time to think while I was gone, work things out when I got back. You know what happened next."
"Lee, I –"
"My father once said that it's not enough to survive, that we have to be worthy of survival, but what I did? What kind of world exists where a man walks away from his family just because he feels like it?" She flinches, even though she knows he isn't talking about her, even though she knows she made the right choice. "When my father asked me to run security for Baltar's trial, I knew I could make the world right again. We're running for our lives, but we have the chance to make a fresh start, to fix what we broke back on Caprica. I don't like Baltar and I don't have to like him. All I know is that I don't want another baby coming into a world that's so wrong. Freedom, equality, justice…those are things we can have now. We get to start over." He pauses, and takes her hand so it rests under his over the mound of her belly. "Kara, I know you don't want this, but that hasn't stopped it from happening, and in a couple days, it's not going to stop a new life from entering the world. I just wanted to do my part to make that world whole again."
She blinks because she can feel tears pricking the backs of her eyes because she knows Lee's right. It's all she's ever wanted during these long months of hell, to carry the thing in her belly to term and give it a shot at a life filled with things she'll never have and she'll never know. She remembers the broken expression in Lee's eyes the night he confessed to giving up, and she sees the peace in them now because he's found a way to make a difference, the way they used to when they were pilots, the way she's being trying to do all these months since. "Aww, Lee. Aren't you the one who always says there's no such thing as bright, shiny futures?
He smiles and squeezes her hand. "I said they're overrated. I never said that they don't exist."
She squeezes his hand in return and blinks back the tears. "Look at us. I don't know who we are anymore. You used to be the CAG and I used to be your hotshot problem pilot, and now we're just a couple washed up viperjocks whining about what used to be."
He reaches up and wipes the tears from her eyes. "We'll be okay. It's only the court system that took a beating. You think my dad will turn down his best pilots?"
Kara groans. "Am I gonna have to grovel?"
He tilts her chin so he's looking right at her and she freezes because she sees love staring back at her. "All you have to do is smile, Kara, and he'll do whatever you want." It remains unsaid that the same goes for his son, so she smiles and his mouth presses gently against hers and it feels exactly like old times. She remembers the night she came back from Caprica with the future clasped to her back, and Lee told her he loved her and promised to catch her when she fell. "It's not over, Kara," he whispers against her lips. "I'll always be there for you."
"No takebacks," she insists and he kisses her again, soft and gentle, just the way she remembers.
"No takebacks."
They pull apart and she rests her head in the crook of his neck and it's something they've never done before but she still fits just right. They watch the CAP, hands locked over her belly, and she thinks she sees them a little bit down the road, saving the world and saving each other.
NINE
Two days before her due date Kara falls in the shower during an FTL jump. There's a water shortage onboard and the pipes to her quarters are turned off until the problem is fixed, and she tell herself it's because she isn't used to the pilots' head anymore. She refuses to question why it happened but still spends a full thirty seconds laying on the cold tile, legs splayed awkwardly, before she can haul herself into a sitting position while the world slowly rights itself. Her bum knee hurts like hell, and she whimpers a little as she draws up her legs to rest against the massive mound of her belly.
It's not until a strong hand locks around her bicep and pulls her up, bare feet skidding across the wet tile, that she realizes something's wrong.
Lee's standing in front of her, eyes searching her face, and he plants a hand on either hip to hold her steady. His fingers just brush the stretched skin housing the thing in her belly that isn't kicking anymore. Her eyes go wide and his expression changes, concern creeping across his features. "Kara, are you okay?"
She presses frantic hands to her belly, takes his hands and presses too, and the concern on his face evolves into full-on panic when he sees the expression on hers. Her belly is quiet, mercifully quiet for the first time in weeks, but it's no longer what she wants. The tears start to fall and she doesn't bother to blink them away. "Oh, gods, Lee. I need help." She runs her hand over her belly again and the thing inside doesn't rise up to meet her. "I need help."
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