BSG - Letting Go
Title: Letting Go
Rating: Teen
Characters: Kara Thrace, Brenda Costanza
Genre: Angst-ish
Warnings: Major spoilers for 3.10 The Passage
Word Count: 609
Summary: The sound Starbuck makes could almost be a laugh, but it's weak and rough, like her throat can't remember how to produce sound. "Maybe that was her mistake," she says, and he thinks she doesn't mean it.
Author's Note: I put off posting this for a while because I wasn't really sure if I could stand reading it. I really like this piece, I think I did a good job on it, but it's about an episode that ALWAYS makes me cry. But since I was posting another fic, Tell The Gods, I figured I should go ahead and post this one, too.
Letting Go
He finds her later in the memorial hallway, still staring at the picture she'd pinned on the wall. He's not actually certain that she's moved at all, but her eyes are red-rimmed and he can't tell if it's from exhaustion or if she's actually been crying. The thought alone is enough to make him speak, to try to shake her out of whatever funk has got Starbuck looking so small and lost.
"She always respected you, you know," he says. "She never said it; she might not have even realised it. But she respected you. Wanted to be you."
The sound Starbuck makes could almost be a laugh, but it's weak and rough, like her throat can't remember how to produce sound. "Maybe that was her mistake," she says, and he thinks she doesn't mean it. Starbuck doesn't do sentimental, so she hides it behind sarcasm and harsh words. "Didn't do her much good," she continues. "Trying to be me, that's a brilliant idea."
Her face twists strangely and it takes him a moment to realise she's blinking too hard, eyes looking too bright and he wonders if she's trying not to cry.
"You couldn't have done anything, Captain. You did what you could, you trained her, made her into one of the best pilots I've known."
"Well I should have done more!" And she's finally turned her eyes from the picture, her head snapping up to look at him. "She was my responsibility," she hisses. "She was frakked up and I shouldn't have let her go, but I did, and then she pushed too hard, took on too much, and I lost one of our best." She's glaring at him, daring him to defy her, to tell her she shouldn't blame herself, that it's not her fault. So that's exactly what he does.
"Kat earned her wings a thousand times over because of what you taught her. She knew the risks. And she knew exactly what she was doing when she stayed out there. You think you could have stopped her somehow? Stopped Louanne Katraine while she was cleared to fly, while she was in the air? Because you're nuts if you think you could have."
"What the frak do you know?" she spits out, but her voice is bitter and he thinks the anger's mostly for herself. "Who the frak are you to tell me what I could and couldn't do?" Her eyes are flashing and he wonders if now's a good time to step back, shut up, and hope she doesn't punch him. She doesn't look like she's spoiling for a fight, though, so he stays where he is, a few steps to her right and watches her turn her eyes back to the picture.
"Staring at that thing isn't going to bring her back," he says quietly. "I wish it could, but she's gone, and blaming yourself isn't going to change anything."
"I know that," she says and her voice is nearly a whisper, strained and low.
They stand in silence for a while longer, staring at the picture, staring at all the other pictures, staring at nothing at all, but he thinks she's looking a little less lost and he takes a moment to be thankful for that. A voice comes across the intercom, calling him to a pre-CAP briefing. He claps a hand on her shoulder and turns to go, but he's only managed a few steps before he hears her voice.
"Costanza."
He turns around and finds her looking at him, face carefully blank. "Good hunting," she says, and he hears don't get killed underneath it.
"Thank you, sir. I'll do my best."
Rating: Teen
Characters: Kara Thrace, Brenda Costanza
Genre: Angst-ish
Warnings: Major spoilers for 3.10 The Passage
Word Count: 609
Summary: The sound Starbuck makes could almost be a laugh, but it's weak and rough, like her throat can't remember how to produce sound. "Maybe that was her mistake," she says, and he thinks she doesn't mean it.
Author's Note: I put off posting this for a while because I wasn't really sure if I could stand reading it. I really like this piece, I think I did a good job on it, but it's about an episode that ALWAYS makes me cry. But since I was posting another fic, Tell The Gods, I figured I should go ahead and post this one, too.
Letting Go
He finds her later in the memorial hallway, still staring at the picture she'd pinned on the wall. He's not actually certain that she's moved at all, but her eyes are red-rimmed and he can't tell if it's from exhaustion or if she's actually been crying. The thought alone is enough to make him speak, to try to shake her out of whatever funk has got Starbuck looking so small and lost.
"She always respected you, you know," he says. "She never said it; she might not have even realised it. But she respected you. Wanted to be you."
The sound Starbuck makes could almost be a laugh, but it's weak and rough, like her throat can't remember how to produce sound. "Maybe that was her mistake," she says, and he thinks she doesn't mean it. Starbuck doesn't do sentimental, so she hides it behind sarcasm and harsh words. "Didn't do her much good," she continues. "Trying to be me, that's a brilliant idea."
Her face twists strangely and it takes him a moment to realise she's blinking too hard, eyes looking too bright and he wonders if she's trying not to cry.
"You couldn't have done anything, Captain. You did what you could, you trained her, made her into one of the best pilots I've known."
"Well I should have done more!" And she's finally turned her eyes from the picture, her head snapping up to look at him. "She was my responsibility," she hisses. "She was frakked up and I shouldn't have let her go, but I did, and then she pushed too hard, took on too much, and I lost one of our best." She's glaring at him, daring him to defy her, to tell her she shouldn't blame herself, that it's not her fault. So that's exactly what he does.
"Kat earned her wings a thousand times over because of what you taught her. She knew the risks. And she knew exactly what she was doing when she stayed out there. You think you could have stopped her somehow? Stopped Louanne Katraine while she was cleared to fly, while she was in the air? Because you're nuts if you think you could have."
"What the frak do you know?" she spits out, but her voice is bitter and he thinks the anger's mostly for herself. "Who the frak are you to tell me what I could and couldn't do?" Her eyes are flashing and he wonders if now's a good time to step back, shut up, and hope she doesn't punch him. She doesn't look like she's spoiling for a fight, though, so he stays where he is, a few steps to her right and watches her turn her eyes back to the picture.
"Staring at that thing isn't going to bring her back," he says quietly. "I wish it could, but she's gone, and blaming yourself isn't going to change anything."
"I know that," she says and her voice is nearly a whisper, strained and low.
They stand in silence for a while longer, staring at the picture, staring at all the other pictures, staring at nothing at all, but he thinks she's looking a little less lost and he takes a moment to be thankful for that. A voice comes across the intercom, calling him to a pre-CAP briefing. He claps a hand on her shoulder and turns to go, but he's only managed a few steps before he hears her voice.
"Costanza."
He turns around and finds her looking at him, face carefully blank. "Good hunting," she says, and he hears don't get killed underneath it.
"Thank you, sir. I'll do my best."