Statements from the Accused - Adama
Wine helps too, though I'm not entirely sure that's a good thing.
Of the entirety of Roslin-Adama lore, the scene at the end of season one is one of my favorites. You know the one. I think it is there, along with the Dance, which awoke in me a sense of the possibilities. So here we are, from both POVs.
Standard Disclaimers apply - although my imagination is my own, the BSG belongs to RDM et al.
As for spoilers, well, if you haven't finished Season One, you shouldn't be reading this!
He made sure to be there to greet her, personally.
Ensured he was there, waiting, when she was escorted in. Took care to face her, every step of the way. To do so, he forced down the rage that was like icy fire, forced it down, deep into his gut. Did so and kept his face still by sheer force of will.
He couldn’t remember ever being this angry. Not even at the Fall, hearing the reports of death and destruction over the wireless. Not even when it was clear that he would be helpless to avenge them, let alone rescue them from their living hell. Not even then had he struggled to breathe, not even then did he have to force down the raging, burning anger rolling through his gut. Not even then did he remember being this angry. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been this angry.
Maybe when he’d thought he’d lost Lee…
Maybe when he’d first heard about Zak...
No! He had to focus. Focus on the present. Had to use the rage to bury the pain of her betrayal. He couldn’t believe she’d struck against him this way. To turn his only remaining son against him. To steal his daughter. All in the name of some stupid, mythological shit about an arrow and a tomb and a non-existent route to a stupid dream called Earth.
He’d thought they’d grown closer than that, thought they had come to trust each other. Thought that maybe they were building something, together… He frowned. He’d thought that at least she’d decided to trust him.
After all that nonsense with Ellen Tigh and Leoben and Baltar’s frakking Cylon Detection machine…
He’d thought they were working on finding their way.
For her to betray him like this… to go behind his back, to suborn his family, to risk everything they’d built, to risk the lives of everyone who depended on them, to send Starbuck off on some stupid ass suicidal quest for a frakking relic… The hells had she been thinking?
If there was ever a person capable of cold, logical thinking, it was Laura Roslin. It was one thing he’d always admired about her, one thing even he’d wished he could emulate, even when they’d hardly known each other, even when around her he’d still felt like a tour guide aboard his own ship.
He’d always felt more comfortable following his gut, always found it hard to bury his emotions, to be the stoic Commander, not the hot-headed Viper pilot. It was one of the hardest things he’d had to master when he’d transitioned into Command, the need to fight the urge to leap without looking. He’d had to fight those instincts, learn to look at the whole board, learn to control the battle from the C.I.C. rather than from the comfort of his cockpit.
Laura had that ability in spades. The ability to remove herself from the immediacy, to be objective, to assess what needed to be done, to prioritize conflicting demands. He’d admired that about her, even as he’d sometimes wondered, if only to himself, as to whether she was even capable of human emotions. Or if she did indeed have ice in her veins.
And now this. The rage bubbled up in him again. Roslin and frakking Kobol. Who did she think she was?
What. The. Frak. Had. She. Been. Thinking?
Of the entirety of Roslin-Adama lore, the scene at the end of season one is one of my favorites. You know the one. I think it is there, along with the Dance, which awoke in me a sense of the possibilities. So here we are, from both POVs.
Standard Disclaimers apply - although my imagination is my own, the BSG belongs to RDM et al.
As for spoilers, well, if you haven't finished Season One, you shouldn't be reading this!
He made sure to be there to greet her, personally.
Ensured he was there, waiting, when she was escorted in. Took care to face her, every step of the way. To do so, he forced down the rage that was like icy fire, forced it down, deep into his gut. Did so and kept his face still by sheer force of will.
He couldn’t remember ever being this angry. Not even at the Fall, hearing the reports of death and destruction over the wireless. Not even when it was clear that he would be helpless to avenge them, let alone rescue them from their living hell. Not even then had he struggled to breathe, not even then did he have to force down the raging, burning anger rolling through his gut. Not even then did he remember being this angry. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been this angry.
Maybe when he’d thought he’d lost Lee…
Maybe when he’d first heard about Zak...
No! He had to focus. Focus on the present. Had to use the rage to bury the pain of her betrayal. He couldn’t believe she’d struck against him this way. To turn his only remaining son against him. To steal his daughter. All in the name of some stupid, mythological shit about an arrow and a tomb and a non-existent route to a stupid dream called Earth.
He’d thought they’d grown closer than that, thought they had come to trust each other. Thought that maybe they were building something, together… He frowned. He’d thought that at least she’d decided to trust him.
After all that nonsense with Ellen Tigh and Leoben and Baltar’s frakking Cylon Detection machine…
He’d thought they were working on finding their way.
For her to betray him like this… to go behind his back, to suborn his family, to risk everything they’d built, to risk the lives of everyone who depended on them, to send Starbuck off on some stupid ass suicidal quest for a frakking relic… The hells had she been thinking?
If there was ever a person capable of cold, logical thinking, it was Laura Roslin. It was one thing he’d always admired about her, one thing even he’d wished he could emulate, even when they’d hardly known each other, even when around her he’d still felt like a tour guide aboard his own ship.
He’d always felt more comfortable following his gut, always found it hard to bury his emotions, to be the stoic Commander, not the hot-headed Viper pilot. It was one of the hardest things he’d had to master when he’d transitioned into Command, the need to fight the urge to leap without looking. He’d had to fight those instincts, learn to look at the whole board, learn to control the battle from the C.I.C. rather than from the comfort of his cockpit.
Laura had that ability in spades. The ability to remove herself from the immediacy, to be objective, to assess what needed to be done, to prioritize conflicting demands. He’d admired that about her, even as he’d sometimes wondered, if only to himself, as to whether she was even capable of human emotions. Or if she did indeed have ice in her veins.
And now this. The rage bubbled up in him again. Roslin and frakking Kobol. Who did she think she was?
What. The. Frak. Had. She. Been. Thinking?