Chapter 58 Psych 101
Kara splashed water on her face, trying to clear the last of the drug-induced fog from her mind. After almost five hours of uninterrupted sleep, she admitted she felt better. Scrubbing her face dry with the rough towel, she paused, arrested by the face reflecting back at her. The haunted eyes above gaunt cheeks framed by ragged blonde hair belonged to a person Kara didn't recognize anymore. Draping the towel over the revealing mirror, she turned away and left the sanctuary of the small lavatory, knowing she'd have to face the Admiral sometime, if not the damaged woman she had just covered.
Dinner had been brought to the cabin and laid out on the Admiral's table. He stood waiting and waved her to the second place setting. Without a word, Kara took her seat and surveyed the meal, knowing she'd have to choke some of it down to pacify the Old Man.
[ I I I I I ]
Observing Kara push the food in circles about her plate with head bent avoiding his regard, Adama sighed and wiped his lips with the napkin. He'd stayed in the cabin the rest of the afternoon doing paperwork, watching over his girl. It had eased his own tired heart seeing her features relax into peaceful sleep at last. But since waking, she hadn't said anything, keeping her eyes downcast.
Well, he'd had enough of that. Breaking the silence, "I told you I've some ideas for updating the combat training course. Starting tomorrow afternoon, you'll begin working on that project," he said. Then indicating books on his nearby desk, "There's all the standard manuals and texts. Review them, but don't feel restricted by them. Remember, I want your unique view on how we can do better." He had her eyes now. "You're the best Viper pilot I've ever seen. I'm betting you can find better ways of teaching the nuggets how to clear Cylons from my sky." He gave her an encouraging smile. An answering one pulled tentatively at her lips before sliding away.
"I'll do my best, sir," she said in a low voice, breaking her silence at last. Turning back to her food, Kara began slowly eating. The remainder of the meal passed, if not in companionable silence, at least not with the strained absence of sound that had marked the start of their dinner together.
After the young steward had cleared their plates and left, Adama cleared his throat, drawing Kara from the inner contemplations she'd fallen into while eating. "Laura Roslin will be coming by tonight," he started, not sure how to broach the subject. At her questioning look, he continued, "I've asked her to debrief you on your time spent in the detention center on New Caprica."
He watched as Kara suddenly straightened in her chair as it dawned on her exactly what he meant; her need to flee was evident in the way her panicked eyes darted around the room.
"I told you the time for secrets is over. You will speak with someone about those four months. Since you won't talk to me, I've enlisted Laura to do the job instead," the Admiral said with the finality of a foregone conclusion.
"But-but…she's the President."
"Yes, she is. She's also a teacher…and, more importantly, considers herself your friend," the Admiral said, giving no quarter.
"I can't…I mean…she's too busy, she's the President, for frak's sake," she said, her voicing rising. Abruptly, Kara sprang to her feet and retreated from the table to pace across the enclosed space.
Adama's eyes narrowed as he surveyed his officer's agitated movements. Last thing he wanted was to push her into another panic attack, which she certainly seemed to be working up to.
Changing tactics, "It's just a debrief, Captain. You've done them countless times," he said, trying to get her to focus on the military necessity of any information she could provide. Appealing to the trained soldier in her had worked before, he was hoping it would again.
"She's not military, Sir. Wouldn't know the first frakkin' questions to ask," came her sharp reply. But she did stop her pacing, he noted.
"Then who would you suggest," he tossed back to her. Adama could see her searching for someone, anyone. "What about Helo?" he tentatively, only to see her face harden and he wondered briefly what his acting-XO had done to alienate her. Focusing back on Kara, "Would you talk with Lee? Do you really want to go into details with him?" He saw her flinch and back further away in response. "I'd listen if you'd talk to me," he softly offered. She shook her head, wrapping her arms about herself, closing off again.
"Well, Laura it is then," he firmly stated. "You need to get rid of the poison that's been festering in you. The Doc says the only way to do that is to talk. So you're going to talk to someone. That's an order, Captain."
"Yes, Sir," she spit out her acceptance of the command, then he saw her bite her lower lip as it quivered.
Moments later, a knock on the hatch preceded the guard's announcement of the President's arrival. "Enter," he called out. Rising, he saw Starbuck turn her back, shoulders tensed in sullen protest.
Adama walked over to the redheaded woman as she stepped through the entrance, "Laura," he greeted, taking her hand in a light clasp of welcome. He let his eyes speak their thanks to her for coming. "Bill, it's good to see you," she returned his smile, then her gaze flicked to the distant figure beyond him.
"I've duties in CIC. I'll be back in a few hours," the Admiral excused himself and he and Sergeant Mathias left the pair alone.
[ I I I I I ]
Through narrowed eyes, Laura scrutinized the young woman she was expected to help. The medical chart Dr. Cottle had provided had painted a disturbing picture of the abuse Kara had endured, both during her childhood, and later at the hands of the Cylons. However, the bare medical facts couldn't show her the psychic wounds that were currently crippling the younger woman.
"Kara, can we sit?" Laura suggested. Not waiting for a reply, she moved over to sink onto one side of the earth-brown couch. After a moment, Kara shrugged her shoulders and took a seat further down the sofa's length. With arms crossed about her chest, the blonde's body shouted sullen defiance as she slouched back.
"We both know why I'm here." Then, leaning slightly forward, "You're a danger to yourself and others," Laura matter-of-factly stated, not missing the way the blonde head twitched aside. "Kara, you need help… We all need help sometimes, you know." Her voice coaxing now, "We can talk…just talk, like friends do." Starbuck shook her head, but Laura persisted, "I consider us friends… On New Caprica, I'd thought we'd become—"
Kara interrupted, "It was different then, everything was different before…" then trailed off.
"Before the Occupation. Before the Cylons took you?" Laura prompted, trying to keep her talking.
"You don't know what they did. What I did—" Kara objected, then clamped her mouth shut with a look that said that Laura wasn't going to get anymore out of her and could just do an about face and leave.
Not to be that easily put off, Laura said, "You're right I don't, Kara. You need to tell me. Where did they take you when you were captured?" she asked, wanting to start simple, anything to just get her talking. Laura waited patiently, letting the silence stretch between them as she kept her full attention focused on Kara. She'd learned a long time ago that silence could be just as an effective goad as words.
Kara shifted on the couch, eyes repeatedly dodging away before returning each time to Laura's intent gaze.
Huffing a frustrated sigh, Kara broke the silence first. "The detention center, of course," Starbuck's tone and glare made it apparent that she might have conceded the first round to Roslin, but that didn't mean she was suddenly feeling cooperative.
"Who was it?" At Kara's confused look, "What model took you?" Laura clarified.
"You already frakkin' know."
"Tell me, anyways," the older woman softly urged. She saw Kara sighed again and a grudging acceptance settled over her expressive face.
"It was Le-Leoben. Ok. Happy now?"
"What did he do to you?"
Green eyes flickered to Laura's before dropping again.
"Nothing," the almost whispered response.
"Kara, what did Leoben do?" she asked again, firming her voice with a school teacher's insistence.
"I told you. Nothing!" Kara shouted, then quickly lowered her voice again as she added, "He didn't do anything. Just kept me locked up in this damned apartment, prattled on about streams and such, and…" she broke off, fidgeting with her fingers now.
"And what?"
Kara abruptly stood, taking an aggressive step towards Laura and said, "And he died. Over and over. I killed him. Do you get it?" She was leaning in close now and Laura tensed. "I killed him again and again." The younger woman swung away and rubbed at her arms. Laura just barely heard the softly spoken, "And it didn't make a frakkin' difference. He always came back."
"And how did that make you feel?"
Swinging back to face her, Starbuck's smirk was back in prominent display as she sarcastically said, "Now you really do sound like a shrink. How did it make me feel? All warm and gooey, both inside and out."
Laura took some time to consider Kara's words. She was sure they held a double meaning. Then she saw it. Killing the Cylon had undoubtedly been a messy endeavor. What had it been like for Kara to repeatedly murder Leoben; to feel and see his blood on her hands. And know all the time that it was futile, that he'd just return each time?
"I image as a pilot you haven't done much…close quarters fighting, I believe it's called?"
"Haven't you read my jacket?" Starbuck mocked. "I probably hold a record for 'disorderly' conduct, in case you didn't know."
"You know I'm not talking about bar brawls, Kara. How many times have you killed by your own hands?"
The smirk faltered. "Fine…I've only killed Cylons, satisfied," her response terse now.
Laura nodded once. "Killing Leoben, probably with whatever was at hand, was different. Wasn't it?" Laura knew she was pushing, she could see the younger woman's fists opening and closing at her side, and the tension in Laura's stomach tightened just a little more. She could feel she was making progress, she'd just have to trust that Kara wouldn't actually attack her.
"I…I stabbed him. Straggled him with a cord. Used a vase once. Metal chopsticks work well. Shard of a plate—" Kara's cataloging of methods abruptly broke off and Laura watched the color drain from her face as Kara stumbled back, her hands going to her head.
Rising, Laura took a step forward as the younger woman sank down onto the couch, head slowly shaking back and forth as if denying whatever she was recalling. "Kara, what is it? Tell me."
"…with a plate…in the throat," the words came out disjointed. Green eyes locked with hers and Laura was surprised how dilated they were. "He fell. And I kicked him... No," Kara shook her head, confusion reflected in her eyes now, "I didn't kick him. I stomped…I-I," she abruptly rose and rushed past Laura to the small bathroom beyond.
Laura followed a few hesitant steps and halted when she heard the unmistakable sounds of vomiting. She considered whether to go assist the young woman, but decided to give her some space. Instead, she reflected on what she'd learned. Kara's reaction made a kind of sense yet it's intensity was perplexing. Ugh! What she wouldn't give for a degree in psychology right about now.
She decided to check with Dr. Cottle later to see if he had anything at all on handling stress reactions to traumatic events. This was a warship, for gods-sake, the military had to have known combat related mental issues were bound to come up. Resuming her seat, Laura sat back to wait for Kara's return.
[ I I I I I ]
Kara spit into the toilet again before reaching out with a shaky hand to flush. What must the President think of her now? Not that her reputation wasn't already in shambles before this, but… With a sigh, she pushed herself up and rinsed her mouth out, grimacing at the mirror and then quickly put the towel over it again.
Her head ached. Rubbing at her temples, she wondered if the pain was from the drugs earlier or reliving her attack on Leoben, seeing again the remains of his corpse after she'd gone all berserk on it. Gods, what if she did that to someone on Galactica? Hadn't she already shown how crazy she was? Definitely couldn't share this little episode with anyone or the Admiral would have her back in a cell in an instant, regardless of his professed claims that he cared for her.
And there was something else… Some other darker memory that twisted just beyond the one in the apartment. Kara instinctively shied away from trying to follow that wisp of thought.
Gathering herself together as best she could, she turned to the door and went out to face the President again. The older woman seemed to be waiting patiently, not looking disturbed at all by Kara's abrupt exit. She wished she had Laura's ability to stay calm in any situation.
She dropped down onto the couch and stared across at Roslin, deciding not to volunteer anything. Never, ever volunteer, her momma had told her many times. Just got you stuck with the scut work no one else wanted.
Roslin seemed to be studying her with those knowing brown eyes. Well, let her. Kara was an artist at bluffing. She crossed her arms and slouched back further against the sofa cushion. Her eyes were drawn to the other woman's tapered finger that she was absently tapping on the arm of the sofa. It was distracting, so much so that Kara actually missed her softly spoken question the first time.
"I asked if Leoben was the one that gave you the scars on your hands?" Roslin repeated when she must have realized that Kara hadn't been paying attention.
Kara glanced down at her hands with a frown before answering. "No. That came later. A Six and Simon."
"So, you didn't spend the entire four months in the apartment with Leoben?"
She shook her head and remained silent.
"Then when did you leave the apartment? And why?"
"I guess about six or so weeks into the Occupation. D'Anna and Six, and you know it of course had to be the same bitch I off—" Kara faltered, blushing just the slightest. "Sorry, Madam President. I meant the same Cylon I killed on Caprica."
Roslin gave a reassuring smile. "I've heard, even said, far worse. And I think it should be Laura and Kara during our talks, don't you?"
"Talks? As in plural?" At the older woman's nod, Kara shook her head. "What? You think we're just going to pick up where we left off on New Caprica?" Her tone turned mocking now as she continued, "Just chatting. A little girl talk?"
"We're friends, at least I considered us such."
"We were never friends." Kara was perched forward now. "You were convenient. That's all." She chopped down with her hand as if ending it there.
Watching the redhead across from her, Kara saw the woman's lips thin, and felt a sliver of satisfaction. She knew herself, knew she was purposely pushing Laura away. It was too dangerous to let people close, because then she risked them seeing her truths, and it was better to push them away than have them leave later when she had come to rely on them.
For that lesson she had her father to thank.
But, as Laura settled back in her seat, Kara was reminded that this was the woman that had lead them all across so many stars. It was going to take more than a little push to shake her loose.
"Friends, regardless of what you think," Laura insisted. "Now, I believe you were telling me about this Six, that's the model that went by Shelly Godfrey while on Galactica?"
"Yeah, I guess." At Laura's wave to continue, Kara reluctantly did so. "She was just Six on New Caprica. I guess the other Cylons weren't satisfied with Leoben's progress with me. Decided to turn me over to her for proper rehabilitation treatments," she said, sarcastically emphasizing the euphemism.
"And these treatments, what did they entail?"
"What you'd expect. A few beatings. Less than stellar accommodations. Spa treatments." She gave a shrug. "The usual."
"And by spa treatments you mean…" Laura prompted.
"Cold water washes. Battery therapy. All the specials included, same low price."
"Battery therapy," Laura asked, obviously missing the reference.
"Yeah, battery therapy, you know…shock therapy…electrical stimulation of the nerves," Starbuck explained, curling her lip that the other woman hadn't caught her meaning.
"Oh…," Laura said, looking slightly ill as she probably pictured Kara being subjected to volts of electricity. Kara saw the older woman pulled her attention back to her questions, "So, was that all the Six did?"
"She really wasn't too imaginative—not like the others—I think she just wanted to cause as much pain as possible. Said it herself once, didn't really care if I told them about Galactica's defenses or not." Kara brushed her bangs aside as she paused, then met Laura's eyes as she continued, "so, mostly just beatings. Not fun. Nothing I couldn't handle," Starbuck said nonchalantly. "I think that disappointed her. After awhile of playing piñata with me, she got bored. So, that's when she tried the battery therapy, but I think the others must have forced it to stop, didn't want to risk killing me too soon," she clarified.
Laura was silent for awhile, staring off in thought and tapping her finger again. Kara wished she'd stop. As the silence dragged out, she was beginning to hope that their chat was at an end and was just about to rise when the brown eyes locked on hers again.
"Kara, in what way were the others more imaginative than the Six?" Laura asked. "What did they do?"
What did they do? How was she suppose to explain to this woman that the beatings were nothing, but chain her to a corpse and force-feed her and she wanted to die? Kara's chin began to twitch and she swallowed convulsively, eyes wavering towards the bathroom again.
Frak that. And frak Laura Roslin.
She wasn't doing this anymore.
"We're done." Starbuck burst from her seat and strode to the hatch. "You can tell the Admiral whatever you want, but we're done here. Got it." She swung the metal door open and gave Roslin a cold glare.
"Ok, Kara," Laura said as she rose to cross the cabin and stopped in front of her. "We'll pick this up tomorrow."
"No we won't, so just forget it," Starbuck's hot defiance was back in full force.
Roslin gave her a warm smile as if she hadn't even heard Kara's rude comment. "Sleep well, Kara, and I'll see you after dinner tomorrow."
As the President stepped past where Sergeant Mathias stood guard, Kara saw the women exchange nods before the Marine came through the hatch, closing it behind her and taking up her preferred spot off to one side.
Starbuck glared at her silent guard, knowing she'd heard the exchange of words…and was there just a touch of amusement in the woman's expression?
"What?" Kara demanded.
"Nothing, Sir," came the oh-so-carefully neutral response.
"Right." Kara turned away, still fuming inside at…at…she didn't know what exactly. Just agitated and knowing that it wouldn't do to goad the Sergeant into a fight, at least not in the Admiral's quarters.
Even she wasn't that crazy.
A short time later the sound of the hatch opening had her looking up from the flight manual she had absently picked up and was unsuccessfully trying to study. As Lee stepped inside, a small, instinctive smile crossed Kara's face at the sight of him, it was quickly quenched though as she their vast history of hurting each other descended on her again.
Just what I don't need tonight
She watched the CAG cross towards her before pausing a few feet away to give her an expectant look.
"Well, come on," Lee said, tone carefully neutral, "We haven't all night."
Blinking in confusion, Kara cautiously asked, "Come on where?" She'd had enough surprises today, and was damnedif she was going anyplace with Lee without knowing where first.
"To the gym. You've been lounging around too long, Captain. Doc Cottle has ordered a prescription of light bag work and weights tonight. And I've learned not to piss off the Doc," Lee answered with just a hint of a smile nudging the corners of his mouth.
Looking away from him and around the quiet cabin and the stoically watching Marine, Starbuck decided she'd prefer going to the gym over staying in this room any longer waiting for the Old Man to return.
"Fine. Whatever. Lead the way, Major," she said, and then silently followed him out the hatch.
As they traversed the corridors towards the smaller gym, Kara felt Lee's eyes slide her way. She shifted a little further away, widening the gap between them and knew by the slight hitch in his stride beside her that he had noticed. Still, he didn't say anything, hadn't said anything since his earlier non-committal greeting.
Rubbing the side of her face, Kara tried to ease her aching jaw muscles. She hadn't realized how much she'd been clenching her teeth lately, a habit from childhood when silence had been expected of her. The freedom to speaking her mind and damning the consequences in the years since had meant her jaw usually hurt for an entirely different reason, and often included a colorful bruise as an exclamation mark. It struck Kara as ironic that her jaw ached from trying to keep locked in all the words Laura want her to spill forth.
As they crossed the threshold into the workout room, she saw that it was empty. While it was later in the evening, even this gym usually had a few occupants, and Kara felt her jaw tensing again as she ground down on the realization that Lee must have arranged for them to have the facility to themselves. Part of her was thankful; it was hard enough eating lunch in the mess today knowing that she was garnering hooded looks and whispers. But she hated that he was trying to protect her like some godsdamned shrinking violet that would wilt under the stares.
Unless he was just ashamed to be seen with her…
An hour later, Kara wiped an arm across her forehead, wishing she'd thought to snag a towel from the Admiral's quarters. The sweat stinging her eyes just added to her building agitation. She knew the Old Man had probably intended for her time in the gym to allow her to work off some of the stress after her meeting with Roslin, but it wasn't shaping up that way, and now she felt more strung out then when she had arrived. And it wasn't hard to guess why as she caught Lee casting yet another cryptic glance her way.
They had started out ok with him leading them through some light warm-ups before progressing to free weights. Lee hadn't said much, but Kara had caught him repeatedly about to make some comment, only to snap his mouth shut and avert his eyes.
How much did he know? Obviously too damned much, she decided, if the stilted way he was treating her was any indication. His hard anger seemed well buried, but she was sure it was still there. She wondered if the Old Man had assigned him to this chore. Probably. She couldn't believe that Lee was here out of any reason other than duty. Except maybe curiosity…or pity. That thought was enough to renew her punches at the heavy bag he was holding.
As he cleared his throat, So, here it comes, she bitterly thought.
"What did you and President Roslin talk about?"
Right. So curiosity first, huh, Lee?
She ignored him to slam an uppercut into the bag. At her silence, she saw him shift slightly so he could better see her.
"Kara, we need to talk…about that night…and-and afterwards."
"Don't wanna talk." Driving her fist into the bag, "Wanna hit."
"Look, I just—"
"Not listening," Starbuck said, putting her gloved hands over her ears. "This is me not listening."
Lee reached across and slapped down her near hand as he said, "Very mature, Kara. I'm just trying—"
She spun from him and started working at the laces on the mitts as she walked away.
"Kara. Kara! Come on… Come back."
Finally getting the knots loose with her teeth, Starbuck continued to ignore him and tossed the gloves aside and went to work peeling off the strapping around her hands. She heard him follow her.
"Fine. You don't want to talk, we won't talk. Nothing new there."
With a curse, she swung back to him. "Everyone wants me to talk, share my feelings, confess my sins," she said harshly. "Well, news flash, Lee, I'm not so good at sharing. And I hate it. Hate that I'm expected to talk…or whatever… I just want to forget. But, oh no, we have to get Starbuck to open up, show everyone just how cracked her pot really is. Oh yeah, and she should be grateful that so many people want to help a frak-up like her."
"It's not like that."
"What?" She raised her hands, feigning surprise, "You don't want to hear all my dirty little secrets? What the Cylons did to me? What I did? Come on, Lee, admit it. The only reason you're here is to get the juicy details. See if I finally got what I had coming to me."
"No. That's not… Godsdamnit, Kara!" Lee ran both hands through his hair, looking like he was barely resisting the urge to start pulling out hunks in his frustration. Straightening, he took a single step towards her. "Ok… I was hurt. You hurt me. And I was frakking angry at you for it. But Kara, I swear, I never wanted you to hurt like this. What happened to—"
She lifted one hand, palm signaling him to stop then closed her fingers as if trying to crush his words.
"Don't… Just don't. I can't…" Her face started to crumple before she twisted away. Her breaths hitching in and out were the only sounds in the otherwise silent gym. Kara tried to gather her tattered control back around herself. Dealing with Lee like this was just too much on top of everything else. She kept her eyes shut.
Behind her, she heard his steps track away as he put distance between them. A part of her longed to beg him to come back, to hold her. She squashed the impulse, knowing he wouldn't…and besides, she didn't deserve to be comforted, especially by him.
"Ok, Kara. We'll do it your way." She heard the heavy resignation in his voice. "Doc says you need to work your legs, especially your weak knee."
She looked over her shoulder when she heard clanks and saw Lee sliding weight rings onto the leg press. After a brief hesitation, she moved to take her seat and silently lowered and raised the bar to his count.
After another half hour of weights and stretching, Lee parted with her at the Admiral's door with a, "See you tomorrow," flatly flung over his shoulder as he strode away.
She stood before the hatch, hand on the handle and watched his departing back. They'd actually made it through the remainder of their time together with no new bruises—at least not physical ones. Practically a record for them.
Sighing, she turned away and gave a nod goodnight to Corporal Paulson where he stood at his post outside of the door and pushed it open, stepping through to see the Admiral look up from his paperwork-strewn desk.
"Good evening, Starbuck," he greeted her, a tired smile crossing his craggy features.
"Sir," Starbuck nodded to him, unsure what to do now. After the long day, she was exhausted and just wanted to crawl into her rack and pull the blanket over her head. She glanced away from the Admiral and saw that her spot on the couch had already been prepared. To Starbuck, it still didn't seem right to be staying in her commanding officer's quarters, but Kara was touched in a strange way that a place, her place, was already prepared and waiting for her. She had to remind herself not to read too much into the gesture.
"I'm about ready to call it a night," Adama said, drawing the her attention back to him. "The Doc sent some pills to help you sleep. I expect you to take them as prescribed, young lady. Doctor's orders are not discretionary," he added with a wag of his finger.
He handed the bottle over, and Kara shook one out into her palm. As she stared down at the white oval, her reluctance must have been obvious because he quietly added, "Kara, you need rest. Those will help, at least for now."
She popped the pill into her mouth, grimacing at its acrid taste.
"Didn't say you had to take it dry," he said as he handed her a half-filled glass of water. "Here."
Taking the proffered glass, she drained it, washing away the bitter taste. As the Admiral retrieved the empty glass, his eyes seemed to focus on the back of her hand. Glancing down, Kara realized that he was staring at the small scar. She shifted uncomfortably, wondering if he'd spoken with Roslin, and if so, what the woman had told him. Kara risked a glance at his face and met solemn blue eyes that seemed to hold nothing but concern in their depths.
"Goodnight, Kara," he said and shuffled off to his own sleeping cubby.