Curtain Call - chapter 6
Chapters 1-4 can be found at http://survivalinstinct.net/viewstory.php?sid=2158
And a special thanks to Sue who helped me out with feedback on this chapter back in June.
Chapter 6
Lee part 2
“If I could have had one more day!” Romo lamented. “If I could have had just one more day with her! Do you have any idea what I could have done with just one more day with her?!”
Lampkin’s words seemed to spark something in his father.
“One more day!” he cried out. “She promised me a year! We were supposed to have a year. Just yesterday she told me! Even without the doloxan we should have had months!”
Lee looked down, averting his eyes from his father’s grief and despair.
“Not even a day - If I could have had just a few more hours with her!” Romo carried on. “That was all I wanted!”
“No. No!” The Admiral protested. “We were supposed to have more time. We earned it!” He spoke in the rallying tones he reserved for those do or die moments as he rose up from his kneeling position. “We more than earned it! This isn't right!”
“Dad -”
Lee watched his father lift the President’s limp form with a strength and tenderness Lee hadn’t realized him capable of. “I’m taking her to Cottle.”
Romo clasped his hands together almost cheerfully and called out. “Right then! I’ll phone ahead to make a reservation!”
Not knowing what else to do, Lee ran slightly ahead of his father to clear the path to sickbay. While it would have been more effective, given the circumstance Lee couldn't bring himself to use the phrase usually used by the crew when they needed others to quickly move aside.
Entering sickbay, he found Cottle and several of the medics at the ready with a crash cart. The slight whining sound coming from the machine told Lee it had already been charged up. Cottle even had a loaded syringe in one hand.
Having yet to leave Sam’s side, Kara was there too. “Lee! The Old Man -“
Looking confused, Kara stopped as his father made his way in behind him. “ It’s the President?”
Doc Cottle frowned. “Ishay!”
The medic looked at Lampkin who was pulling up the rear of their little entourage and shook her head. “He didn’t tell me it was the President. He said, ‘The Admiral is on his way to sickbay. Have a resuscitation team ready.’”
“Oh well I meant the Admiral is on his way with the President.” Romo shrugged with a false cheeriness. “It’s all good. You knew to expect us and now you’re all ready so chop, chop! Time is a wasting!” Romo tried to urge Cottle to action.
Cottle shook his head. “She has a DNR - a do not resuscitate order.”
Lee listened to his father cry out from his spot standing over the gurney he had laid the President down on - the gurney that Cottle and the others had prepared for him. “No!”
Either his father wasn’t aware or he just didn’t care.
Gone was Lampkin's cheeriness - false or otherwise. “She may have a DNR, but you know what we don’t have without her - a government with a clear line of succession and a smooth transition. So unless you liked what you saw the past few days and you want to see more of it, I suggest you temporarily misfile that DNR and do your frakking job.”
Lee never thought to hear his father agreeing with Romo Lampkin on anything. “He’s right. The Fleet needs her. The people need her. I -”
“ - Admiral -“
“ - You said we would have more time.” His father looked at Cottle accusingly. “You told her we would have months! Even without treatment, you told her we would have months!”
Cottle looked apologetic. “It’s not an exact science. Predicting death, it -”
The anguish on his father’s face as he interrupted Cottle was almost too much for Lee to look at. “ - I want my two months! We want our two months!”
Baltar had come along for the spectacle. “Admiral, you have to let her go. This isn’t what she wants. Let her die with the dignity that she deserves.”
As Baltar tried to put his hands on the Admiral's shoulders in a gesture of comfort, the Admiral pushed him away. “Somebody get him the frak out of here.”
Kara was not the only one there visiting Sam. Hesitantly - almost as if afraid that at any moment someone would tell her that she shouldn’t be here - Tory approached. They had been so loud since entering, she couldn’t possibly have not heard who it was but she still gasped at the sight of Laura Roslin on the gurney. A hand went to cover her mouth, but she didn’t utter a word.
“Tick tock people!” As soon as it had become clear that none of the medical staff would do it, Lampkin had begun performing chest compressions on the President. As Kara breathed into the President's mouth, Lampkin kept pushing everyone. “Our little transition hasn’t been completed yet. There is no VP. There is no Quorum. We all need the President. So tick frakking tock ladies and gents.”
Cottle refused. “I’m not doing it.”
“She doesn’t want this!” Baltar insisted.
“Just frakkin’ do it!” Spit flew from his father’s mouth as he shouted.
Cottle threw the syringe onto the nearby tray. “I won’t.”
For a moment, the room was filled with voices shouting. Everyone in the room seemed to be voicing an opinion about what the President would want so Lee stated what he thought to be true. “Yesterday on Colonial One she told me she wasn't ready to die.”
That was all the encouragement his father needed. Lee watched him pick up the syringe that Cottle had discarded and plunge it into the President’s chest.
Romo took up the paddles.
“You can’t do this! She's ready!” Playing his usual game of trying to make himself part of every spotlight, going beyond mere objection, Baltar tried to throw himself over the President to prevent Lampkin from using the paddles.
Lee watched his father intercept and throw the other man to the floor.
“She wouldn’t want this!” Baltar continued.
As Romo used the paddles, the reaction was immediate - both in the room and in the President. The room went silent as the President began to violently convulse.
Ishay spoke first. “The dose is done by weight. That was intended for you, Admiral. You’ve given her more than twice the proper dosage.”
The convulsions weren’t stopping.
His father’s voice sounded strangled. “Do something! Help her!”
With a look of disgust, Cottle shook his head. “You’re the doctor now. You do something.”
Helping to hold the President down to keep her from falling off the bed as the convulsions continued, Kara called to Cottle in disbelief. “You can’t just leave her like this! Do something!”
The doctor pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He inhaled deeply.
“For gods’ sake!” Ishay exclaimed, pushing past Starbuck.
“She was coming back in to restart the treatments today. She made an appointment!” His father’s words were a desperate plea - for help, for confirmation, for forgiveness? Lee wasn’t sure which.
But puffing on his cigarette, all Cottle had to offer was recriminations. “No, she didn’t. And she wasn’t going to. And you know that.”
“She agreed she would!”
Cottle seemed to be almost wavering - as if he couldn’t decide between being sympathetic or fuming. “Admiral, she lied.”
Ishay returned with a different syringe. As its contents quickly put an end to the convulsions, the medic began attaching various wires and leads to the President. Solemnly, she announced. “Normal sinus rhythm has been restored.”
“Happy now, you selfish bastard?” Lee watched Cottle lashed out at his father. “She’s back amongst the living! Now we get to wait and see if what you brought back is animal, vegetable, or mineral! That seizure was likely from her brain being deprived of oxygen!”
Now that the damage had been done or undone, Cottle went back to being the doctor. “How long was she down?”
“Not long.” Romo was quick to reply.
When Cottle looked his way, Lee shrugged.
“Was it more than three minutes? Hypoxic brain injury can occur in as little as three minutes.”
Lee wasn’t sure. In his own feckless way, Baltar had immediately sounded the alarm when she had stopped breathing and the supposed reason for her moving into his father's quarters was it's close proximity to sickbay - still just getting her to sickbay probably took that long. He was still amazed that his father had managed to carry her there at all, never mind how quickly. They didn’t call him the Old Man without reason. He wondered if it was adrenalin or if she had lost that much weight with her illness?
His father was still stuck in a more distant past. “She promised me she would make the appointment!”
“When are you going to learn? She lies! She can’t be trusted!”
“She told Lee she wasn't ready to die.” Desperate, his father turned to him.
Lee repeated what he had said before. “Yesterday, when we were on Colonial One she told me she wasn't ready.”
“Yesterday.” Cottle made a disgusted noise. “When yesterday? Was it before or after she signed the DNR order yesterday?”
Lee hated himself for the feeling of relief he experienced as Cottle turned his disgust away from him and back onto his father.
His father returned the disgust full force. “You said we’d have more time! You said we’d have months! Maybe even a year!”
His voice full of pity this time, Cottle repeated his own earlier words. “It’s not an exact science.”
Lee watched as the enormity of what he had just done finally hit his father. He looked down at her in the bed - so pale and helpless - for a mere moment before staggering from the room.
“Dad!” Lee called after him.
“Don’t bother.” Cottle shook his head. “There’s nothing to be done about it now. Now we just wait and see if she even wakes up.”
With that Cottle headed to his office and slammed the door. Lee could hear the sound of things being knocked over.
As those remaining settled in for the wait, the final five cylon who had served for so many years as the President’s aide took up her former position at the President’s side. Tentatively, she reached out to hold the President's hand.
tbc
And a special thanks to Sue who helped me out with feedback on this chapter back in June.
Chapter 6
Lee part 2
“If I could have had one more day!” Romo lamented. “If I could have had just one more day with her! Do you have any idea what I could have done with just one more day with her?!”
Lampkin’s words seemed to spark something in his father.
“One more day!” he cried out. “She promised me a year! We were supposed to have a year. Just yesterday she told me! Even without the doloxan we should have had months!”
Lee looked down, averting his eyes from his father’s grief and despair.
“Not even a day - If I could have had just a few more hours with her!” Romo carried on. “That was all I wanted!”
“No. No!” The Admiral protested. “We were supposed to have more time. We earned it!” He spoke in the rallying tones he reserved for those do or die moments as he rose up from his kneeling position. “We more than earned it! This isn't right!”
“Dad -”
Lee watched his father lift the President’s limp form with a strength and tenderness Lee hadn’t realized him capable of. “I’m taking her to Cottle.”
Romo clasped his hands together almost cheerfully and called out. “Right then! I’ll phone ahead to make a reservation!”
Not knowing what else to do, Lee ran slightly ahead of his father to clear the path to sickbay. While it would have been more effective, given the circumstance Lee couldn't bring himself to use the phrase usually used by the crew when they needed others to quickly move aside.
Entering sickbay, he found Cottle and several of the medics at the ready with a crash cart. The slight whining sound coming from the machine told Lee it had already been charged up. Cottle even had a loaded syringe in one hand.
Having yet to leave Sam’s side, Kara was there too. “Lee! The Old Man -“
Looking confused, Kara stopped as his father made his way in behind him. “ It’s the President?”
Doc Cottle frowned. “Ishay!”
The medic looked at Lampkin who was pulling up the rear of their little entourage and shook her head. “He didn’t tell me it was the President. He said, ‘The Admiral is on his way to sickbay. Have a resuscitation team ready.’”
“Oh well I meant the Admiral is on his way with the President.” Romo shrugged with a false cheeriness. “It’s all good. You knew to expect us and now you’re all ready so chop, chop! Time is a wasting!” Romo tried to urge Cottle to action.
Cottle shook his head. “She has a DNR - a do not resuscitate order.”
Lee listened to his father cry out from his spot standing over the gurney he had laid the President down on - the gurney that Cottle and the others had prepared for him. “No!”
Either his father wasn’t aware or he just didn’t care.
Gone was Lampkin's cheeriness - false or otherwise. “She may have a DNR, but you know what we don’t have without her - a government with a clear line of succession and a smooth transition. So unless you liked what you saw the past few days and you want to see more of it, I suggest you temporarily misfile that DNR and do your frakking job.”
Lee never thought to hear his father agreeing with Romo Lampkin on anything. “He’s right. The Fleet needs her. The people need her. I -”
“ - Admiral -“
“ - You said we would have more time.” His father looked at Cottle accusingly. “You told her we would have months! Even without treatment, you told her we would have months!”
Cottle looked apologetic. “It’s not an exact science. Predicting death, it -”
The anguish on his father’s face as he interrupted Cottle was almost too much for Lee to look at. “ - I want my two months! We want our two months!”
Baltar had come along for the spectacle. “Admiral, you have to let her go. This isn’t what she wants. Let her die with the dignity that she deserves.”
As Baltar tried to put his hands on the Admiral's shoulders in a gesture of comfort, the Admiral pushed him away. “Somebody get him the frak out of here.”
Kara was not the only one there visiting Sam. Hesitantly - almost as if afraid that at any moment someone would tell her that she shouldn’t be here - Tory approached. They had been so loud since entering, she couldn’t possibly have not heard who it was but she still gasped at the sight of Laura Roslin on the gurney. A hand went to cover her mouth, but she didn’t utter a word.
“Tick tock people!” As soon as it had become clear that none of the medical staff would do it, Lampkin had begun performing chest compressions on the President. As Kara breathed into the President's mouth, Lampkin kept pushing everyone. “Our little transition hasn’t been completed yet. There is no VP. There is no Quorum. We all need the President. So tick frakking tock ladies and gents.”
Cottle refused. “I’m not doing it.”
“She doesn’t want this!” Baltar insisted.
“Just frakkin’ do it!” Spit flew from his father’s mouth as he shouted.
Cottle threw the syringe onto the nearby tray. “I won’t.”
For a moment, the room was filled with voices shouting. Everyone in the room seemed to be voicing an opinion about what the President would want so Lee stated what he thought to be true. “Yesterday on Colonial One she told me she wasn't ready to die.”
That was all the encouragement his father needed. Lee watched him pick up the syringe that Cottle had discarded and plunge it into the President’s chest.
Romo took up the paddles.
“You can’t do this! She's ready!” Playing his usual game of trying to make himself part of every spotlight, going beyond mere objection, Baltar tried to throw himself over the President to prevent Lampkin from using the paddles.
Lee watched his father intercept and throw the other man to the floor.
“She wouldn’t want this!” Baltar continued.
As Romo used the paddles, the reaction was immediate - both in the room and in the President. The room went silent as the President began to violently convulse.
Ishay spoke first. “The dose is done by weight. That was intended for you, Admiral. You’ve given her more than twice the proper dosage.”
The convulsions weren’t stopping.
His father’s voice sounded strangled. “Do something! Help her!”
With a look of disgust, Cottle shook his head. “You’re the doctor now. You do something.”
Helping to hold the President down to keep her from falling off the bed as the convulsions continued, Kara called to Cottle in disbelief. “You can’t just leave her like this! Do something!”
The doctor pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He inhaled deeply.
“For gods’ sake!” Ishay exclaimed, pushing past Starbuck.
“She was coming back in to restart the treatments today. She made an appointment!” His father’s words were a desperate plea - for help, for confirmation, for forgiveness? Lee wasn’t sure which.
But puffing on his cigarette, all Cottle had to offer was recriminations. “No, she didn’t. And she wasn’t going to. And you know that.”
“She agreed she would!”
Cottle seemed to be almost wavering - as if he couldn’t decide between being sympathetic or fuming. “Admiral, she lied.”
Ishay returned with a different syringe. As its contents quickly put an end to the convulsions, the medic began attaching various wires and leads to the President. Solemnly, she announced. “Normal sinus rhythm has been restored.”
“Happy now, you selfish bastard?” Lee watched Cottle lashed out at his father. “She’s back amongst the living! Now we get to wait and see if what you brought back is animal, vegetable, or mineral! That seizure was likely from her brain being deprived of oxygen!”
Now that the damage had been done or undone, Cottle went back to being the doctor. “How long was she down?”
“Not long.” Romo was quick to reply.
When Cottle looked his way, Lee shrugged.
“Was it more than three minutes? Hypoxic brain injury can occur in as little as three minutes.”
Lee wasn’t sure. In his own feckless way, Baltar had immediately sounded the alarm when she had stopped breathing and the supposed reason for her moving into his father's quarters was it's close proximity to sickbay - still just getting her to sickbay probably took that long. He was still amazed that his father had managed to carry her there at all, never mind how quickly. They didn’t call him the Old Man without reason. He wondered if it was adrenalin or if she had lost that much weight with her illness?
His father was still stuck in a more distant past. “She promised me she would make the appointment!”
“When are you going to learn? She lies! She can’t be trusted!”
“She told Lee she wasn't ready to die.” Desperate, his father turned to him.
Lee repeated what he had said before. “Yesterday, when we were on Colonial One she told me she wasn't ready.”
“Yesterday.” Cottle made a disgusted noise. “When yesterday? Was it before or after she signed the DNR order yesterday?”
Lee hated himself for the feeling of relief he experienced as Cottle turned his disgust away from him and back onto his father.
His father returned the disgust full force. “You said we’d have more time! You said we’d have months! Maybe even a year!”
His voice full of pity this time, Cottle repeated his own earlier words. “It’s not an exact science.”
Lee watched as the enormity of what he had just done finally hit his father. He looked down at her in the bed - so pale and helpless - for a mere moment before staggering from the room.
“Dad!” Lee called after him.
“Don’t bother.” Cottle shook his head. “There’s nothing to be done about it now. Now we just wait and see if she even wakes up.”
With that Cottle headed to his office and slammed the door. Lee could hear the sound of things being knocked over.
As those remaining settled in for the wait, the final five cylon who had served for so many years as the President’s aide took up her former position at the President’s side. Tentatively, she reached out to hold the President's hand.
tbc