Adama/Roslin fic.
Title: Home
Author: propernice
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairing: A/R
Rating: G (lol for once.); slightly angsty
Spoilers: The mid-season finale - if you haven't seen it and you don't want to be spoiled, you probably shouldn't read.
Author's Notes: A lot of people have had Laura and Bill reacting differently after what happened in the last episode we saw, and I know that my Laura muse was just devastated. So, here's my take on that and why.
The planet was dead. Barren. A shell of what it once was, Laura imagined, because this could not have possibly been it. She would not have led her people - her people - to a place like this. Gaius Baltar would, and he would be proud and declare himself the savior of the fleet, but not her. Not Madame President; not the dying leader. This wasn’t what she promised, and it sure as hell wasn’t what she’d shook on with Adama after the initial attacks.
Laura couldn’t stand to look at them, at the people who stood in confusion and shock. Even weeks later as tents were being put up she felt the stares of contempt coming from the people who had believed in her and her scrolls and prophecies. She couldn’t even look at Bill. They’d started this journey together, he had believed in her, and this was all she had to give him. So, even though he’d set up a tent big enough for the both of them, she’d taken shelter inside of the now grounded Galactica. It was mostly empty now, and she’d become the ship’s resident ghost. By day she poured over the scrolls of Pythia behind Bill’s desk, and by night, she haunted the quiet halls while trying to decide where she’d gone wrong. Had it been with Kobol? Had she misinterpreted something that day when a luscious field of green had been shown to her under the stars? Or did the Gods give her this as a punishment for her sins: hiding away Hera, rigging the election and electing for genocide against the enemy?
Sitting in Bill’s quarters that she’d adopted as her own, she took up her daily routine of flipping through the scriptures, searching for something, anything that meant she’d taken a wrong turn somewhere and all she had to do was give Bill the new coordinates. This planet would turn out to be a colossal mistake, they would argue about it and then laugh when they landed on a planet full of life and start their real lives over again. As she read, Laura was startled out of her thoughts by a soft knock on the hatch, and she looked up as it started to turn.
"Anybody home?"
Bill’s voice descended upon the room with the ever present air of command, and she had to smile. It was only then that she realized she had been cooped up inside the battlestar for a week at least. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?” Her voice was soft from not using in so long, and she reached for her glass of water.
"Checking in. Making sure you were okay and wondering if you were coming out any time soon." He sat down on the rack and clasped his hands in front of him.
Sighing softly, Laura got up and ran a hand over the peach fuzz on her head before moving to sit next to him. "When I stop feeling like the next scapegoat. I feel like I took something away from those people. Now they need someone to blame and who better? I brought them here."
"We brought them here. It wasn’t just you. Starbuck was pointing in this direction too. Don’t forget that." Reaching for her hand, Bill studied her delicate fingers as his own ran over her palm.
Laura shook her head before lacing her fingers with his. "The scrolls; the visions and the prophecies. Before there was Starbuck, there was the dying leader and now…now there is nothing. There’s nothing to show for anything we’ve done." Her voice cracked just a bit, and she wiped at her eyes with her free hand. "I keep waiting to wake up in sick bay or...right here and realize it was just a dream."
Wrapping an arm around her, Bill pulled her closer and gently pressed his lips against her forehead. "We’re alive. I think that’s a pretty good start. And you didn’t know what Earth would be. Laura, how could you know that it would be like this? It’s not your fault, and they know that. No one wants to blame you for anything. Come home with me."
Shaking her head, Laura closed her eyes tightly and hid her face in his neck. "That tent isn’t home. This is home. Galactica is home. Out there is just...out there is wrong, Bill."
Sighing softly, he pulled away and sat up a bit straighter. "I’m not going to try and talk you out of that. But there’s a tent for you. Our tent, when you’re ready."
Reaching out for him, Laura scooted closer, not wanting to lose the close contact just yet. "I miss you," she admitted softly. "But I’ve seen this planet before. This planet is New Caprica; just like it. So rather than go out there and sit in that miserable weather and hide in a tent, I can just stay here."
Bill squeezed her hand but stood up, making his way to the hatch. "You can stay here. I’m going back out. When you want to join me, you know where I am."
"You’re leaving already?" She was a bit shocked, and she stood as well. “That’s it?”
Turning back to her, he shrugged. “What do you want me to say? You aren’t leaving with me, and I’m not staying on the ship. I told you I’m not going to force you to go.”
Laura frowned and tried to hide her disappointment. “You couldn’t stay for a night? There can’t be that much going on out there that you have to leave now. Stay with me.”
Bill wasn’t one to deny Laura anything, not now, but he shook his head. "I’m helping Helo come up with building plans. This is it, Laura. This is home, whether we like it or not. And when you decide to come out, I’ll be waiting for you." Without speaking again, he made his way back though the hatch, closing it gently behind him.
Standing alone once again, Laura blinked back tears of shock at his sudden leaving, then shook her head and went back to the desk. Staring at the book of Pythia, she thought about what Bill had said, trying to accept Earth as it was. Picking up her pen, she started to write, but this time, she wasn’t searching. As she drafted a list of buildings that needed to be constructed, she swallowed her grief and accepted defeat. She was home.
Author: propernice
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairing: A/R
Rating: G (lol for once.); slightly angsty
Spoilers: The mid-season finale - if you haven't seen it and you don't want to be spoiled, you probably shouldn't read.
Author's Notes: A lot of people have had Laura and Bill reacting differently after what happened in the last episode we saw, and I know that my Laura muse was just devastated. So, here's my take on that and why.
The planet was dead. Barren. A shell of what it once was, Laura imagined, because this could not have possibly been it. She would not have led her people - her people - to a place like this. Gaius Baltar would, and he would be proud and declare himself the savior of the fleet, but not her. Not Madame President; not the dying leader. This wasn’t what she promised, and it sure as hell wasn’t what she’d shook on with Adama after the initial attacks.
Laura couldn’t stand to look at them, at the people who stood in confusion and shock. Even weeks later as tents were being put up she felt the stares of contempt coming from the people who had believed in her and her scrolls and prophecies. She couldn’t even look at Bill. They’d started this journey together, he had believed in her, and this was all she had to give him. So, even though he’d set up a tent big enough for the both of them, she’d taken shelter inside of the now grounded Galactica. It was mostly empty now, and she’d become the ship’s resident ghost. By day she poured over the scrolls of Pythia behind Bill’s desk, and by night, she haunted the quiet halls while trying to decide where she’d gone wrong. Had it been with Kobol? Had she misinterpreted something that day when a luscious field of green had been shown to her under the stars? Or did the Gods give her this as a punishment for her sins: hiding away Hera, rigging the election and electing for genocide against the enemy?
Sitting in Bill’s quarters that she’d adopted as her own, she took up her daily routine of flipping through the scriptures, searching for something, anything that meant she’d taken a wrong turn somewhere and all she had to do was give Bill the new coordinates. This planet would turn out to be a colossal mistake, they would argue about it and then laugh when they landed on a planet full of life and start their real lives over again. As she read, Laura was startled out of her thoughts by a soft knock on the hatch, and she looked up as it started to turn.
"Anybody home?"
Bill’s voice descended upon the room with the ever present air of command, and she had to smile. It was only then that she realized she had been cooped up inside the battlestar for a week at least. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?” Her voice was soft from not using in so long, and she reached for her glass of water.
"Checking in. Making sure you were okay and wondering if you were coming out any time soon." He sat down on the rack and clasped his hands in front of him.
Sighing softly, Laura got up and ran a hand over the peach fuzz on her head before moving to sit next to him. "When I stop feeling like the next scapegoat. I feel like I took something away from those people. Now they need someone to blame and who better? I brought them here."
"We brought them here. It wasn’t just you. Starbuck was pointing in this direction too. Don’t forget that." Reaching for her hand, Bill studied her delicate fingers as his own ran over her palm.
Laura shook her head before lacing her fingers with his. "The scrolls; the visions and the prophecies. Before there was Starbuck, there was the dying leader and now…now there is nothing. There’s nothing to show for anything we’ve done." Her voice cracked just a bit, and she wiped at her eyes with her free hand. "I keep waiting to wake up in sick bay or...right here and realize it was just a dream."
Wrapping an arm around her, Bill pulled her closer and gently pressed his lips against her forehead. "We’re alive. I think that’s a pretty good start. And you didn’t know what Earth would be. Laura, how could you know that it would be like this? It’s not your fault, and they know that. No one wants to blame you for anything. Come home with me."
Shaking her head, Laura closed her eyes tightly and hid her face in his neck. "That tent isn’t home. This is home. Galactica is home. Out there is just...out there is wrong, Bill."
Sighing softly, he pulled away and sat up a bit straighter. "I’m not going to try and talk you out of that. But there’s a tent for you. Our tent, when you’re ready."
Reaching out for him, Laura scooted closer, not wanting to lose the close contact just yet. "I miss you," she admitted softly. "But I’ve seen this planet before. This planet is New Caprica; just like it. So rather than go out there and sit in that miserable weather and hide in a tent, I can just stay here."
Bill squeezed her hand but stood up, making his way to the hatch. "You can stay here. I’m going back out. When you want to join me, you know where I am."
"You’re leaving already?" She was a bit shocked, and she stood as well. “That’s it?”
Turning back to her, he shrugged. “What do you want me to say? You aren’t leaving with me, and I’m not staying on the ship. I told you I’m not going to force you to go.”
Laura frowned and tried to hide her disappointment. “You couldn’t stay for a night? There can’t be that much going on out there that you have to leave now. Stay with me.”
Bill wasn’t one to deny Laura anything, not now, but he shook his head. "I’m helping Helo come up with building plans. This is it, Laura. This is home, whether we like it or not. And when you decide to come out, I’ll be waiting for you." Without speaking again, he made his way back though the hatch, closing it gently behind him.
Standing alone once again, Laura blinked back tears of shock at his sudden leaving, then shook her head and went back to the desk. Staring at the book of Pythia, she thought about what Bill had said, trying to accept Earth as it was. Picking up her pen, she started to write, but this time, she wasn’t searching. As she drafted a list of buildings that needed to be constructed, she swallowed her grief and accepted defeat. She was home.