Starting Over 38 / 42
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Emma opened her eyes, blinking in the harsh fluorescent light. It took a moment to recognise her surroundings, and then she remembered she was in Galactica’s sick bay. After the ordeal on Cloud Nine and the long anxious wait for Lee to come out of surgery, she’d been exhausted, practically asleep on her feet. Eventually one of the nurses had firmly taken her arm, shown her to an empty bed and told her to lie down. She’d fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
She sat up, pulling a face. She hated sleeping in her clothes, and her hair must be a mess. She ran her fingers through the tangle in a vain attempt to straighten it, wishing she had a comb.
She found a kindly nurse who both lent her a comb and showed her the way to the head. Splashing cold water on her face helped, and she emerged feeling more alert and ready to check on Lee.
She peered into his room nervously, and blinked in surprise to see that he wasn’t alone. Kara was sound asleep in the chair next to his bed, head tilted back at an angle that was going to mean her neck was incredibly stiff when she woke. Had she been here all night? Emma took a step closer and saw that Kara’s hand was loosely covering Lee’s even as she slept, shifting with her breathing but never losing contact altogether. She looked at the sleeping woman curiously. Maybe Lee’s feelings for Kara weren’t as one-sided as he thought. She suddenly felt acutely sorry for Zak.
She turned to look at Lee, and what she saw was encouraging. He wasn’t awake, but his face had more colour than it had the night before and his breathing sounded more regular.
“All his vital signs are improving,” said a voice behind her. Emma jumped and turned to see a tired-looking Cottle. “He should wake up shortly.”
“I hope so,” said Emma. She had a momentary flashback to the bar in Cloud Nine, of Lee’s blood spilling over her hands as she desperately tried to staunch it. There had been several moments when she’d thought it was hopeless, that she’d lost her friend for good.
“So do I,” Cottle muttered, “if only because I might then finally get her out of here.” He frowned in Kara’s direction. “I don’t want another patient on my hands.”
“You mean you haven’t been able to throw her out? I thought your word was law around here.” Emma couldn’t resist the dig. She’d got to know Cottle fairly well when he was visiting Zak on the Caprican Star, and knew he wasn’t as grouchy as he liked to appear.
Cottle scowled at her, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Even I have my limits. She made it crystal clear she wasn’t shifting until he woke up, and I’m old enough to know not to bother banging my head against a brick wall. But I did manage to bully her into eating something.”
The comment made Emma realise how hungry she was herself. “Food. That sounds like a good idea.”
“I’ll point you in the direction of the mess hall.” They walked back into the main area of life station. “Though I’m not sure I’d call the slop they serve there food.”
Emma shrugged. “If it’s hot it’ll do. Will I be able to eat there although I’m not a crew member?”
Cottle snorted. “You certainly will. After yesterday you’re the admiral’s new favourite person. You’ve saved both his sons’ lives now.” He chuckled. “Bit of an over-achiever, aren’t you?”
Emma blushed, feeling suddenly awkward. “I just did what anyone else would have done.”
“No you didn’t,” said Cottle, surprising her. “Anyone else wouldn’t have done it as competently.” He studied her for a moment, scanning her face so intently that Emma shifted uncomfortably. “How would you like a job?”
“A job? What kind of job?”
“Here. As my student. Training to be a doctor.”
Emma stared at him, completely taken aback. “But…I already have a job.”
“Flying that freighter? You can get someone else to do that.” Cottle dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “Any damn fool can be a pilot, but it takes a particular kind of damn fool to be a doctor, and you’re it.”
“But-”
“This fleet has too few doctors to go round as it is, and we need more,” said Cottle bluntly. “If I get blown up by the Cylons, I want to go in the knowledge that there’s someone competent to take my place.” He looked at her stunned face with a hint of amusement. “So what do you say?”
“I…” Emma struggled for words. She’d given up her dreams of becoming a doctor a long time ago, and to have the opportunity suddenly held out to her again was a dizzying prospect. Her first instinct was to jump at the chance, but she forced it down, telling herself she had to think about this rationally. “I don’t know. I don’t want to join the military.”
“You wouldn’t have to.”
“Wouldn’t the admiral object if I didn’t?” she asked sceptically.
Cottle chuckled. “He might, but the president is as anxious to train more doctors as I am. She’ll talk him round.”
“You’ve got this all worked out, haven’t you?”
Cottle nodded. “So, do you accept?”
“Yes.” A grin spread over Emma’s face. “Yes, I accept.”
----
Emma was still grinning over the prospect as she followed Cottle’s directions to the mess hall. Martin was more than capable of taking her place on the Caprican Star, and she was sure she could find him a new co-pilot…well, she’d make sure of it. She wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip away from her.
She found the mess hall and got served without any difficulties. Looking around for somewhere to sit, she spotted Zak, sitting alone in a corner.
“Hey, Zak.” She sat down opposite him with a bright smile that faded as she took a good look at him, pale and unshaven with dark rings under his eyes. He definitely hadn’t slept last night.
“Hey,” he said flatly, not looking up.
He must be really worried about Lee. “I’ve just come from life station,” she said quickly. “Lee’s doing much better - Cottle thinks he’ll wake up today.”
“Oh. Good,” he said, in exactly the same tone.
Emma frowned. If it wasn’t Lee, what was wrong? “You don’t sound like it is.”
Zak looked up, flushing slightly. “Sorry. I am glad, of course I am, it’s just…I’ve got other things on my mind.”
Emma took a mouthful of her breakfast, watching him with concern. “Want to tell me what they are?”
She could see he was poised to refuse, but then he sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. “You can’t help.”
“Maybe not, but I can listen.”
Zak sighed again, staring back down at his plate. She noticed he hadn’t eaten any of his breakfast. Then he spoke, so quietly she had to strain to hear him. “Kara’s in love with Lee.”
Emma’s fork halted halfway to her mouth. She put it down, watching Zak carefully. “What makes you think that?”
“I heard her say it.” Zak rubbed his eyes wearily. “There’s no doubt.”
“I see.”
“You don’t seem very surprised,” Zak said bitterly, looking up at her. “Has it been blindingly obvious to everyone else and I’m the last to catch on?”
“No!” Emma said sharply, hating the self-mocking look on his face. “No, it’s not like that at all.”
“But you knew.”
“Not knew. I did wonder, but only since yesterday. The way she was acting after Lee was shot…”
“I knew.” Zak’s eyes were suddenly bright with pain. “I think I’ve known for a while now. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. Fool that I am.”
“Zak…” Emma couldn’t stop herself putting her hand over his in an attempt at comfort. She hated to see him hurting like this.
“I think I hoped that if I closed my eyes to it, it would go away.” He laughed harshly. “But it’s not going to, is it?”
Emma was silent. He was right, it wasn’t, but it seemed too harsh to say so.
“I don’t know what to do,” said Zak quietly. “I’ve been thinking about it all night, trying to decide…and I just don’t know.”
“You could talk to Kara.”
“I could, but-” Zak scrubbed his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what to say. Hell, I don’t know what I want her to say.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if she tells me she wants to be with Lee, that’s easy enough. It’s all over. Finished. But if she doesn’t…if she wants to stay with me…”
“Isn’t that what you want?” Emma asked warily.
Zak sighed again. “I don’t know. I…I don’t want to be second-best, Emma. Especially not to my brother. Maybe that sounds petty, but-”
“No, it doesn’t,” she said, the words coming out involuntarily. “You deserve more than being second-best. Much more.”
Zak blinked at her in surprise, and Emma found herself blushing. She hadn’t meant to sound quite so vehement. “I’m sorry. But you shouldn’t sell yourself short. Unless…” She took a deep breath. “Unless you love Kara so much that just being with her is enough to make you happy.” She forced herself to continue. “That’s what you should think about Zak, how you should decide. Ask yourself what will make you happy.”
“I’m not sure I know any more.” His eyes were suddenly sad. “Kara used to make me happy. But…things changed, and it’s not just this business with Lee. Things haven’t been the same between us for a long time now.”
He paused. Emma waited silently, not wanting to interrupt his thoughts.
“No, it’s not ‘things’, it’s me,” he said finally. “I’ve changed. I’m not the same person I was before the attacks.”
“None of us are.”
“I can’t talk to Kara any more. Not about anything important.” He laughed bitterly. “Well, looking back, I suppose I never could. She’s always refused to confide in me, and so I never felt I could confide in her. I’m not sure why.”
“It’s difficult to make yourself vulnerable to someone if they’re not willing to do the same,” said Emma quietly. “Because it gives them all the power.”
Zak nodded gratefully. “Yes, that’s it exactly.” He sighed. “It never used to bother me so much before the attacks. I suppose we were too busy enjoying ourselves to worry about things like that. But now…now I want someone I can ask for advice when I have a hard decision to make, or who can reassure me when there’s a crisis, who can give me a shoulder to lean on when I need one…and I want to be able to do the same in return.”
“And Kara’s not that person.”
“No. She doesn’t lean on me, and so I can’t lean on her.” Zak stared down at the table, mouth twisting. “I think she leans on Lee instead.”
And you lean on me. But Emma bit back the words firmly. It wasn’t the right time to say them. Besides, however she felt about Zak, she was his friend first, and he needed a listening ear right now, not more complications.
So she kept her voice neutral, and simply said: “Sounds like you have a lot of thinking to do.”
“Maybe.” Zak closed his eyes wearily. “To be honest, I think deep down I know what I need to do. But it’s going to be hard to do it.”
----
Lee was tired of being in life station.
“Not as tired as I am of having you here,” Cottle had retorted. “Maybe you should try living a little less dangerously, hm?”
Lee had scowled at that. It wasn’t as if he’d asked to be shot, or for the Cylons to blow up the Blackbird. To hear Cottle talk, anyone would think Lee got injured just to make his life difficult.
As the days passed and his gunshot wound started to heal, he only got more frustrated. Being stuck in bed was just so boring. He passed some of the time practicing the relaxation exercises Dr Seton had given him, but that only took so long, and in a way it was just another source of frustration, because this new injury was holding up the progress of his therapy. Both doctors refused to allow him anywhere near a flightsuit or an airlock until he was fully recovered, and his father was backing them up.
Bill was being surprisingly sympathetic, though. When Lee had complained about being bored, he’d brought some paperwork to keep him occupied - though when it turned out to be planning refuelling schedules Lee’s gratitude was decidedly mixed - and he visited him every day.
Every day. And not just for a dutiful five minutes either; Bill always stayed for at least half an hour. And they didn’t just talk about work. In fact, a lot of the time they talked about the past, gradually filling in the gap left by that ten year separation. Sometimes they even reminisced about earlier times, when Lee and Zak had been children, and a lot of the memories were good ones. Lee was gradually realising how much his view of his childhood had been coloured by those last difficult years when his mother’s drinking had really got out of control. There had been happy times too, particularly when he was younger and his father was around more, but they’d got obscured by the bad ones.
He was incredibly grateful that he’d followed the impulse to ask his father to attend his sessions with Dr Seton. Making that small gesture seemed to have stirred Bill to respond in kind, and it had definitely triggered an immense improvement in their relationship. A few days ago, he’d even found himself telling his father about what had happened to him on the Scylla, much to his amazement. But it would help Bill understand the reason for his panic attacks, and…he’d wanted to do something to thank his father for his faith in him during the sessions, make a gesture of faith in return. And it had worked; Bill hadn’t said much, but he’d obviously been pleased that Lee had confided in him.
Lee felt more comfortable now with his father than he done for years. Maybe they’d never be close, and certainly never as close as Bill and Zak were, but he thought perhaps they could be friends.
His father’s daily visits were a source of comfort in another way, because they provided a distraction from the glaring absence of two other people.
Well, Zak had been to visit twice. But both times he’d seemed strained and awkward, and had rushed off after a few minutes on the excuse of being busy, leaving Lee feeling hurt and bewildered, wondering what he’d done to upset his brother. He couldn’t think of anything. Maybe Zak really was busy, but surely he could still find time for a proper visit? He’d tried to ask his father if anything was wrong with Zak without being too obvious about it, but Bill hadn’t understood, and Lee hadn’t wanted to push it. Zak wouldn’t be happy if he thought Lee was discussing him with their father behind his back. He’d ask Emma instead, next time she visited; she seemed to talk to Zak quite regularly.
Of course, the obvious person to ask would have been Kara, but she never came to see him. Lee knew he should have expected it after the last time he’d been in life station, but for some reason he hadn’t. He’d thought she might have visited at least once, even if it was a duty ‘sorry-I-shot-you’ call.
He’d wondered if that was the reason she hadn’t come. Shooting him had been a complete accident, but knowing Kara she was probably blaming herself anyway. Maybe she even thought that he blamed her and wouldn’t want to see her. So he’d sent her a note via Helo making it clear that he didn’t blame her in the slightest and would like to see her, but she still hadn’t come. That had cut him more deeply than Lee wanted to admit. He knew she wanted to keep her distance from him, but surely one visit wouldn’t hurt?
Although he thought she might have been here once. Early on, just after the shooting. His memories of those few days were very hazy, but he could have sworn she’d been here, even holding his hand…but maybe he was just indulging in wishful thinking. No-one had ever mentioned her being here, and if she had been, why hadn’t she come back? He’d probably been dreaming.
Either way, there was no point dwelling on it. No point in thinking about her altogether. He’d wasted enough time these last few months pining after Kara, and he needed to stop it. Needed to pull himself together and get on with his life. Once he got out of life station, he intended to do just that.
----
Kara was busy. She always was, these days. She had a new class of nuggets to train, and between that and her regular duties as CAG, she didn’t have a spare minute for anything else.
She made sure of it. It was easier that way.
If she wasn’t working, she had time to think. If she didn’t tire herself out, she had dreams. Dreams where she watched Lee fall bleeding to the ground, over and over again.
She knew he was recovering. Helo and the Old Man both gave her regular updates on Lee’s condition, along with unspoken hints or outright suggestions that she should go and see him.
She knew they didn’t understand why she didn’t go. Especially when she had barely left Lee’s side in those first few hours after his operation. But he had needed her then. Needed her to hold on to him and refuse to let him go. When that need had passed, when Cottle had told her he was going to recover, when he had finally opened his eyes, she had left.
He wouldn’t want her there when he was fully conscious and remembered what had happened, that she was the reason he’d nearly died. And she didn’t want to be there, to face the blame and accusation she was sure to see in his face. Her guilt was overwhelming enough at a distance; face to face with him it would be suffocating. So she stayed away, telling herself that she was sparing his feelings as well as her own.
Then he sent her that note. Telling her that it wasn’t her fault; that he didn’t blame her, not in the slightest, and that he wanted to see her.
She read it over four times, and by the fourth she was so furious that she tore the note into tiny pieces, her hands shaking.
The stupid frakking idiot. Why didn’t he blame her? He should blame her. It was her fault. She’d been careless, and he’d nearly died as a result. He should stay well away from her, before she hurt him again.
She got drunk that night, the first time she’d touched alcohol since it happened. The next day, head pounding, she carefully taped his letter back together, and tucked it away in her desk drawer. But she didn’t go to see him.
He was better off without her. She knew that, even if he didn’t.
----
“Kara?”
The voice made her jump. She’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t heard the hatch open.
“Busy working, I see,” said Zak, taking the seat opposite her. “That’s all you ever seem to do nowadays.”
Kara shifted awkwardly. She hadn’t seen much of Zak in the last few weeks either. What little of her mind she could spare from her guilt over Lee was full of guilt over Zak. She knew that every moment that she allowed Lee to dominate her thoughts and feelings she was letting him down.
She was afraid Zak might see that, so she’d found every excuse she could to avoid him. She’d been surprised he hadn’t confronted her about it, or demanded an explanation.
Maybe now he finally was.
She tried to brace herself, summoned every mental defence she’d painfully built during her childhood, and forced herself to look at him.
“I can stop working for a while, Zak. Did you want something?”
He smiled at her, but it was a ghost of his usual smile, and his eyes were sad. “Not want, exactly. I’ve got some news to tell you. Dad’s transferring me to Pegasus.”
Kara stared at him. That wasn’t what she had expected at all. “Permanently?”
“Maybe. The official line is that Garner could do with another experienced hand in CIC, but really Dad wants me to see how he’s working out as commander over there. If Garner and I get on well together, it might end up permanent. I think Dad’s angling to get me in as XO.”
“Really?” Kara struggled for something to say. “It’s a great opportunity, Zak. I’ll miss you, though.”
“Will you?” His voice was suddenly sharp.
“Of course,” she said automatically.
Zak studied her carefully for a moment, and then nodded. “I think you mean that. But it doesn’t change anything.”
“Change what?” she asked, suddenly alarmed. That sadness was back in his eyes again.
He took a deep breath. “I think we should break up.”
----
Kara stared at him, emotions flooding through her in quick succession; shock, hurt, guilt, grief. And just maybe, below it all, a vast sense of relief, although she couldn’t acknowledge that just yet.
“I don’t understand.”
“Yes, you do,” said Zak wearily. “Let’s be honest with each other, Kara. Things haven’t been right between us for a long time.”
“I know you were angry about my drinking,” she said, words spilling over each other. “But I’ve stopped now, Zak. I haven’t drunk on duty in weeks-”
“It’s not about that. Or about you going to Caprica, or…it’s not any one thing, Kara. It’s everything.” The resolution in his face scared her. He’d obviously been thinking about this for a while.
“I thought we were happy,” she said weakly.
He raised a tired smile. “We were, once. But now…we’ve barely seen each other for weeks, and when we do we act as if we’re strangers.”
She scrabbled for excuses. “That’s just stress and overwork-”
“No it isn’t,” he retorted, a sharp edge to his tone. “Face the facts, Kara. We’ve drifted apart.”
He met her eyes, and the bleak honesty in his face forced her to return it. “I know. It’s my fault. I’ve been preoccupied-”
“No, it’s not your fault,” Zak said impatiently. “No more than it is mine, anyway. We’re just not the right people for each other any more.”
Kara’s mouth fell open in shock. “Do you really think that?”
His eyes met hers uncompromisingly. “Don’t you?”
“No!” she said hurriedly. She didn’t dare stop to think about it.
“Really?” Zak’s mouth curved sarcastically. “Then why do we never talk about anything important, Kara? Why don’t we confide in each other, comfort each other? Tell me that.”
She opened her mouth to try, but the words wouldn’t come. Because he was right and she knew it, even if she couldn’t admit it.
“That doesn’t mean we just have to throw everything away.” The thought of losing him shook her to the core. He’d been the reliable constant in her life for so long. “We can try again…fix things.”
“Maybe we could.” Hope filled her for a moment, until she saw the look on his face. “Maybe we could, if you weren’t in love with my brother.”
Oh gods. She stared at him, trying to move lips that were suddenly cold. “Zak, I don’t-”
“Kara, don’t. Don’t deny it.” There were tears in his eyes now. “I heard you say it to him. In life station.”
He broke off abruptly. Kara looked at him, at the pain written deep across his face, and felt a surge of self-loathing. How could she have done this to him?
She tried to reassure him, make it easier. “Zak, I didn’t - I haven’t-”
She couldn’t find the words, but he understood. “All right. So you haven’t. But it doesn’t change how you feel. And you love him, don’t you?”
Kara nodded silently. She couldn’t lie to him, not when he was looking like that.
“Then it’s best all round if we end this.”
She closed her eyes in anguish. Why did she always have to wreck everything? “Zak, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“I know. But maybe it’s for the best in the end. Because it’s forced me to take a hard look at what I really want, and it isn’t this.” He sighed. “I want someone I can share everything with, someone who will trust me without reservation, who I can trust in return.”
She flinched, every word hitting her like a bullet. “Zak-”
“I do love you, Kara. But it isn’t enough. Not any more.”
And there it was. Every one of her worst fears, come to life. She’d finally managed to push him away, just as she’d always secretly known she would. Because she couldn’t be what he wanted, she wasn’t capable of it. She’d failed him and so he was leaving.
The irony of it stunned her. Because that was why she hadn’t confided in him in the first place, why she’d never told him her secrets. So he wouldn’t leave. And now he was leaving anyway, because he felt she didn’t trust him. Hysterical laughter bubbled up inside her.
“Kara, say something.” He was looking at her anxiously.
She couldn’t. There was nothing to say. He didn’t want her any more, and that was that. Besides, if she spoke she was afraid she might start crying, and she didn’t want to be so vulnerable in front of him. Not now.
Zak stared at her a moment longer, and then sighed.
“I’m sorry, Kara.” He got up from his chair. “I don’t know what else to say.”
She shrugged mutely, wishing he would just go. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hang on to her composure.
“I know this is hard, but I think it’s for the best.” He looked at her, obviously hoping for a response, but she couldn’t give him one. His shoulders slumped a little.
“All right. I’ll go now.” He finally turned to leave.
She just managed to hold back the tears until he closed the hatch.
----
Zak took refuge in the nearest storage locker, needing time to compose himself. He leaned against the wall and took a few shuddering breaths, blinking back the tears that rose to his eyes.
He’d known it was going to be hard, and it had been. She’d looked so hurt, so stricken…he’d nearly caved in, taken it all back.
But deep down he was glad he hadn’t. Even apart from her feelings for Lee, it wouldn’t have worked. Everything he’d said had been true. He did love her, but it wasn’t enough any more. He wasn’t the same person he’d been when they got together, and he’d outgrown their relationship, hard as it was to admit it.
It hurt. So badly that he thought it might tear him apart, and he knew it was going to hurt for a long time to come. But underneath that was a creeping sense of relief, and of freedom. He’d made the right choice, he knew that, however painful it was.
When he finally left the storage locker, and headed to his bunkroom to pack for his transfer to Pegasus, he felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
Emma opened her eyes, blinking in the harsh fluorescent light. It took a moment to recognise her surroundings, and then she remembered she was in Galactica’s sick bay. After the ordeal on Cloud Nine and the long anxious wait for Lee to come out of surgery, she’d been exhausted, practically asleep on her feet. Eventually one of the nurses had firmly taken her arm, shown her to an empty bed and told her to lie down. She’d fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
She sat up, pulling a face. She hated sleeping in her clothes, and her hair must be a mess. She ran her fingers through the tangle in a vain attempt to straighten it, wishing she had a comb.
She found a kindly nurse who both lent her a comb and showed her the way to the head. Splashing cold water on her face helped, and she emerged feeling more alert and ready to check on Lee.
She peered into his room nervously, and blinked in surprise to see that he wasn’t alone. Kara was sound asleep in the chair next to his bed, head tilted back at an angle that was going to mean her neck was incredibly stiff when she woke. Had she been here all night? Emma took a step closer and saw that Kara’s hand was loosely covering Lee’s even as she slept, shifting with her breathing but never losing contact altogether. She looked at the sleeping woman curiously. Maybe Lee’s feelings for Kara weren’t as one-sided as he thought. She suddenly felt acutely sorry for Zak.
She turned to look at Lee, and what she saw was encouraging. He wasn’t awake, but his face had more colour than it had the night before and his breathing sounded more regular.
“All his vital signs are improving,” said a voice behind her. Emma jumped and turned to see a tired-looking Cottle. “He should wake up shortly.”
“I hope so,” said Emma. She had a momentary flashback to the bar in Cloud Nine, of Lee’s blood spilling over her hands as she desperately tried to staunch it. There had been several moments when she’d thought it was hopeless, that she’d lost her friend for good.
“So do I,” Cottle muttered, “if only because I might then finally get her out of here.” He frowned in Kara’s direction. “I don’t want another patient on my hands.”
“You mean you haven’t been able to throw her out? I thought your word was law around here.” Emma couldn’t resist the dig. She’d got to know Cottle fairly well when he was visiting Zak on the Caprican Star, and knew he wasn’t as grouchy as he liked to appear.
Cottle scowled at her, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Even I have my limits. She made it crystal clear she wasn’t shifting until he woke up, and I’m old enough to know not to bother banging my head against a brick wall. But I did manage to bully her into eating something.”
The comment made Emma realise how hungry she was herself. “Food. That sounds like a good idea.”
“I’ll point you in the direction of the mess hall.” They walked back into the main area of life station. “Though I’m not sure I’d call the slop they serve there food.”
Emma shrugged. “If it’s hot it’ll do. Will I be able to eat there although I’m not a crew member?”
Cottle snorted. “You certainly will. After yesterday you’re the admiral’s new favourite person. You’ve saved both his sons’ lives now.” He chuckled. “Bit of an over-achiever, aren’t you?”
Emma blushed, feeling suddenly awkward. “I just did what anyone else would have done.”
“No you didn’t,” said Cottle, surprising her. “Anyone else wouldn’t have done it as competently.” He studied her for a moment, scanning her face so intently that Emma shifted uncomfortably. “How would you like a job?”
“A job? What kind of job?”
“Here. As my student. Training to be a doctor.”
Emma stared at him, completely taken aback. “But…I already have a job.”
“Flying that freighter? You can get someone else to do that.” Cottle dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “Any damn fool can be a pilot, but it takes a particular kind of damn fool to be a doctor, and you’re it.”
“But-”
“This fleet has too few doctors to go round as it is, and we need more,” said Cottle bluntly. “If I get blown up by the Cylons, I want to go in the knowledge that there’s someone competent to take my place.” He looked at her stunned face with a hint of amusement. “So what do you say?”
“I…” Emma struggled for words. She’d given up her dreams of becoming a doctor a long time ago, and to have the opportunity suddenly held out to her again was a dizzying prospect. Her first instinct was to jump at the chance, but she forced it down, telling herself she had to think about this rationally. “I don’t know. I don’t want to join the military.”
“You wouldn’t have to.”
“Wouldn’t the admiral object if I didn’t?” she asked sceptically.
Cottle chuckled. “He might, but the president is as anxious to train more doctors as I am. She’ll talk him round.”
“You’ve got this all worked out, haven’t you?”
Cottle nodded. “So, do you accept?”
“Yes.” A grin spread over Emma’s face. “Yes, I accept.”
----
Emma was still grinning over the prospect as she followed Cottle’s directions to the mess hall. Martin was more than capable of taking her place on the Caprican Star, and she was sure she could find him a new co-pilot…well, she’d make sure of it. She wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip away from her.
She found the mess hall and got served without any difficulties. Looking around for somewhere to sit, she spotted Zak, sitting alone in a corner.
“Hey, Zak.” She sat down opposite him with a bright smile that faded as she took a good look at him, pale and unshaven with dark rings under his eyes. He definitely hadn’t slept last night.
“Hey,” he said flatly, not looking up.
He must be really worried about Lee. “I’ve just come from life station,” she said quickly. “Lee’s doing much better - Cottle thinks he’ll wake up today.”
“Oh. Good,” he said, in exactly the same tone.
Emma frowned. If it wasn’t Lee, what was wrong? “You don’t sound like it is.”
Zak looked up, flushing slightly. “Sorry. I am glad, of course I am, it’s just…I’ve got other things on my mind.”
Emma took a mouthful of her breakfast, watching him with concern. “Want to tell me what they are?”
She could see he was poised to refuse, but then he sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. “You can’t help.”
“Maybe not, but I can listen.”
Zak sighed again, staring back down at his plate. She noticed he hadn’t eaten any of his breakfast. Then he spoke, so quietly she had to strain to hear him. “Kara’s in love with Lee.”
Emma’s fork halted halfway to her mouth. She put it down, watching Zak carefully. “What makes you think that?”
“I heard her say it.” Zak rubbed his eyes wearily. “There’s no doubt.”
“I see.”
“You don’t seem very surprised,” Zak said bitterly, looking up at her. “Has it been blindingly obvious to everyone else and I’m the last to catch on?”
“No!” Emma said sharply, hating the self-mocking look on his face. “No, it’s not like that at all.”
“But you knew.”
“Not knew. I did wonder, but only since yesterday. The way she was acting after Lee was shot…”
“I knew.” Zak’s eyes were suddenly bright with pain. “I think I’ve known for a while now. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. Fool that I am.”
“Zak…” Emma couldn’t stop herself putting her hand over his in an attempt at comfort. She hated to see him hurting like this.
“I think I hoped that if I closed my eyes to it, it would go away.” He laughed harshly. “But it’s not going to, is it?”
Emma was silent. He was right, it wasn’t, but it seemed too harsh to say so.
“I don’t know what to do,” said Zak quietly. “I’ve been thinking about it all night, trying to decide…and I just don’t know.”
“You could talk to Kara.”
“I could, but-” Zak scrubbed his hands through his hair. “I don’t know what to say. Hell, I don’t know what I want her to say.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if she tells me she wants to be with Lee, that’s easy enough. It’s all over. Finished. But if she doesn’t…if she wants to stay with me…”
“Isn’t that what you want?” Emma asked warily.
Zak sighed again. “I don’t know. I…I don’t want to be second-best, Emma. Especially not to my brother. Maybe that sounds petty, but-”
“No, it doesn’t,” she said, the words coming out involuntarily. “You deserve more than being second-best. Much more.”
Zak blinked at her in surprise, and Emma found herself blushing. She hadn’t meant to sound quite so vehement. “I’m sorry. But you shouldn’t sell yourself short. Unless…” She took a deep breath. “Unless you love Kara so much that just being with her is enough to make you happy.” She forced herself to continue. “That’s what you should think about Zak, how you should decide. Ask yourself what will make you happy.”
“I’m not sure I know any more.” His eyes were suddenly sad. “Kara used to make me happy. But…things changed, and it’s not just this business with Lee. Things haven’t been the same between us for a long time now.”
He paused. Emma waited silently, not wanting to interrupt his thoughts.
“No, it’s not ‘things’, it’s me,” he said finally. “I’ve changed. I’m not the same person I was before the attacks.”
“None of us are.”
“I can’t talk to Kara any more. Not about anything important.” He laughed bitterly. “Well, looking back, I suppose I never could. She’s always refused to confide in me, and so I never felt I could confide in her. I’m not sure why.”
“It’s difficult to make yourself vulnerable to someone if they’re not willing to do the same,” said Emma quietly. “Because it gives them all the power.”
Zak nodded gratefully. “Yes, that’s it exactly.” He sighed. “It never used to bother me so much before the attacks. I suppose we were too busy enjoying ourselves to worry about things like that. But now…now I want someone I can ask for advice when I have a hard decision to make, or who can reassure me when there’s a crisis, who can give me a shoulder to lean on when I need one…and I want to be able to do the same in return.”
“And Kara’s not that person.”
“No. She doesn’t lean on me, and so I can’t lean on her.” Zak stared down at the table, mouth twisting. “I think she leans on Lee instead.”
And you lean on me. But Emma bit back the words firmly. It wasn’t the right time to say them. Besides, however she felt about Zak, she was his friend first, and he needed a listening ear right now, not more complications.
So she kept her voice neutral, and simply said: “Sounds like you have a lot of thinking to do.”
“Maybe.” Zak closed his eyes wearily. “To be honest, I think deep down I know what I need to do. But it’s going to be hard to do it.”
----
Lee was tired of being in life station.
“Not as tired as I am of having you here,” Cottle had retorted. “Maybe you should try living a little less dangerously, hm?”
Lee had scowled at that. It wasn’t as if he’d asked to be shot, or for the Cylons to blow up the Blackbird. To hear Cottle talk, anyone would think Lee got injured just to make his life difficult.
As the days passed and his gunshot wound started to heal, he only got more frustrated. Being stuck in bed was just so boring. He passed some of the time practicing the relaxation exercises Dr Seton had given him, but that only took so long, and in a way it was just another source of frustration, because this new injury was holding up the progress of his therapy. Both doctors refused to allow him anywhere near a flightsuit or an airlock until he was fully recovered, and his father was backing them up.
Bill was being surprisingly sympathetic, though. When Lee had complained about being bored, he’d brought some paperwork to keep him occupied - though when it turned out to be planning refuelling schedules Lee’s gratitude was decidedly mixed - and he visited him every day.
Every day. And not just for a dutiful five minutes either; Bill always stayed for at least half an hour. And they didn’t just talk about work. In fact, a lot of the time they talked about the past, gradually filling in the gap left by that ten year separation. Sometimes they even reminisced about earlier times, when Lee and Zak had been children, and a lot of the memories were good ones. Lee was gradually realising how much his view of his childhood had been coloured by those last difficult years when his mother’s drinking had really got out of control. There had been happy times too, particularly when he was younger and his father was around more, but they’d got obscured by the bad ones.
He was incredibly grateful that he’d followed the impulse to ask his father to attend his sessions with Dr Seton. Making that small gesture seemed to have stirred Bill to respond in kind, and it had definitely triggered an immense improvement in their relationship. A few days ago, he’d even found himself telling his father about what had happened to him on the Scylla, much to his amazement. But it would help Bill understand the reason for his panic attacks, and…he’d wanted to do something to thank his father for his faith in him during the sessions, make a gesture of faith in return. And it had worked; Bill hadn’t said much, but he’d obviously been pleased that Lee had confided in him.
Lee felt more comfortable now with his father than he done for years. Maybe they’d never be close, and certainly never as close as Bill and Zak were, but he thought perhaps they could be friends.
His father’s daily visits were a source of comfort in another way, because they provided a distraction from the glaring absence of two other people.
Well, Zak had been to visit twice. But both times he’d seemed strained and awkward, and had rushed off after a few minutes on the excuse of being busy, leaving Lee feeling hurt and bewildered, wondering what he’d done to upset his brother. He couldn’t think of anything. Maybe Zak really was busy, but surely he could still find time for a proper visit? He’d tried to ask his father if anything was wrong with Zak without being too obvious about it, but Bill hadn’t understood, and Lee hadn’t wanted to push it. Zak wouldn’t be happy if he thought Lee was discussing him with their father behind his back. He’d ask Emma instead, next time she visited; she seemed to talk to Zak quite regularly.
Of course, the obvious person to ask would have been Kara, but she never came to see him. Lee knew he should have expected it after the last time he’d been in life station, but for some reason he hadn’t. He’d thought she might have visited at least once, even if it was a duty ‘sorry-I-shot-you’ call.
He’d wondered if that was the reason she hadn’t come. Shooting him had been a complete accident, but knowing Kara she was probably blaming herself anyway. Maybe she even thought that he blamed her and wouldn’t want to see her. So he’d sent her a note via Helo making it clear that he didn’t blame her in the slightest and would like to see her, but she still hadn’t come. That had cut him more deeply than Lee wanted to admit. He knew she wanted to keep her distance from him, but surely one visit wouldn’t hurt?
Although he thought she might have been here once. Early on, just after the shooting. His memories of those few days were very hazy, but he could have sworn she’d been here, even holding his hand…but maybe he was just indulging in wishful thinking. No-one had ever mentioned her being here, and if she had been, why hadn’t she come back? He’d probably been dreaming.
Either way, there was no point dwelling on it. No point in thinking about her altogether. He’d wasted enough time these last few months pining after Kara, and he needed to stop it. Needed to pull himself together and get on with his life. Once he got out of life station, he intended to do just that.
----
Kara was busy. She always was, these days. She had a new class of nuggets to train, and between that and her regular duties as CAG, she didn’t have a spare minute for anything else.
She made sure of it. It was easier that way.
If she wasn’t working, she had time to think. If she didn’t tire herself out, she had dreams. Dreams where she watched Lee fall bleeding to the ground, over and over again.
She knew he was recovering. Helo and the Old Man both gave her regular updates on Lee’s condition, along with unspoken hints or outright suggestions that she should go and see him.
She knew they didn’t understand why she didn’t go. Especially when she had barely left Lee’s side in those first few hours after his operation. But he had needed her then. Needed her to hold on to him and refuse to let him go. When that need had passed, when Cottle had told her he was going to recover, when he had finally opened his eyes, she had left.
He wouldn’t want her there when he was fully conscious and remembered what had happened, that she was the reason he’d nearly died. And she didn’t want to be there, to face the blame and accusation she was sure to see in his face. Her guilt was overwhelming enough at a distance; face to face with him it would be suffocating. So she stayed away, telling herself that she was sparing his feelings as well as her own.
Then he sent her that note. Telling her that it wasn’t her fault; that he didn’t blame her, not in the slightest, and that he wanted to see her.
She read it over four times, and by the fourth she was so furious that she tore the note into tiny pieces, her hands shaking.
The stupid frakking idiot. Why didn’t he blame her? He should blame her. It was her fault. She’d been careless, and he’d nearly died as a result. He should stay well away from her, before she hurt him again.
She got drunk that night, the first time she’d touched alcohol since it happened. The next day, head pounding, she carefully taped his letter back together, and tucked it away in her desk drawer. But she didn’t go to see him.
He was better off without her. She knew that, even if he didn’t.
----
“Kara?”
The voice made her jump. She’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t heard the hatch open.
“Busy working, I see,” said Zak, taking the seat opposite her. “That’s all you ever seem to do nowadays.”
Kara shifted awkwardly. She hadn’t seen much of Zak in the last few weeks either. What little of her mind she could spare from her guilt over Lee was full of guilt over Zak. She knew that every moment that she allowed Lee to dominate her thoughts and feelings she was letting him down.
She was afraid Zak might see that, so she’d found every excuse she could to avoid him. She’d been surprised he hadn’t confronted her about it, or demanded an explanation.
Maybe now he finally was.
She tried to brace herself, summoned every mental defence she’d painfully built during her childhood, and forced herself to look at him.
“I can stop working for a while, Zak. Did you want something?”
He smiled at her, but it was a ghost of his usual smile, and his eyes were sad. “Not want, exactly. I’ve got some news to tell you. Dad’s transferring me to Pegasus.”
Kara stared at him. That wasn’t what she had expected at all. “Permanently?”
“Maybe. The official line is that Garner could do with another experienced hand in CIC, but really Dad wants me to see how he’s working out as commander over there. If Garner and I get on well together, it might end up permanent. I think Dad’s angling to get me in as XO.”
“Really?” Kara struggled for something to say. “It’s a great opportunity, Zak. I’ll miss you, though.”
“Will you?” His voice was suddenly sharp.
“Of course,” she said automatically.
Zak studied her carefully for a moment, and then nodded. “I think you mean that. But it doesn’t change anything.”
“Change what?” she asked, suddenly alarmed. That sadness was back in his eyes again.
He took a deep breath. “I think we should break up.”
----
Kara stared at him, emotions flooding through her in quick succession; shock, hurt, guilt, grief. And just maybe, below it all, a vast sense of relief, although she couldn’t acknowledge that just yet.
“I don’t understand.”
“Yes, you do,” said Zak wearily. “Let’s be honest with each other, Kara. Things haven’t been right between us for a long time.”
“I know you were angry about my drinking,” she said, words spilling over each other. “But I’ve stopped now, Zak. I haven’t drunk on duty in weeks-”
“It’s not about that. Or about you going to Caprica, or…it’s not any one thing, Kara. It’s everything.” The resolution in his face scared her. He’d obviously been thinking about this for a while.
“I thought we were happy,” she said weakly.
He raised a tired smile. “We were, once. But now…we’ve barely seen each other for weeks, and when we do we act as if we’re strangers.”
She scrabbled for excuses. “That’s just stress and overwork-”
“No it isn’t,” he retorted, a sharp edge to his tone. “Face the facts, Kara. We’ve drifted apart.”
He met her eyes, and the bleak honesty in his face forced her to return it. “I know. It’s my fault. I’ve been preoccupied-”
“No, it’s not your fault,” Zak said impatiently. “No more than it is mine, anyway. We’re just not the right people for each other any more.”
Kara’s mouth fell open in shock. “Do you really think that?”
His eyes met hers uncompromisingly. “Don’t you?”
“No!” she said hurriedly. She didn’t dare stop to think about it.
“Really?” Zak’s mouth curved sarcastically. “Then why do we never talk about anything important, Kara? Why don’t we confide in each other, comfort each other? Tell me that.”
She opened her mouth to try, but the words wouldn’t come. Because he was right and she knew it, even if she couldn’t admit it.
“That doesn’t mean we just have to throw everything away.” The thought of losing him shook her to the core. He’d been the reliable constant in her life for so long. “We can try again…fix things.”
“Maybe we could.” Hope filled her for a moment, until she saw the look on his face. “Maybe we could, if you weren’t in love with my brother.”
Oh gods. She stared at him, trying to move lips that were suddenly cold. “Zak, I don’t-”
“Kara, don’t. Don’t deny it.” There were tears in his eyes now. “I heard you say it to him. In life station.”
He broke off abruptly. Kara looked at him, at the pain written deep across his face, and felt a surge of self-loathing. How could she have done this to him?
She tried to reassure him, make it easier. “Zak, I didn’t - I haven’t-”
She couldn’t find the words, but he understood. “All right. So you haven’t. But it doesn’t change how you feel. And you love him, don’t you?”
Kara nodded silently. She couldn’t lie to him, not when he was looking like that.
“Then it’s best all round if we end this.”
She closed her eyes in anguish. Why did she always have to wreck everything? “Zak, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“I know. But maybe it’s for the best in the end. Because it’s forced me to take a hard look at what I really want, and it isn’t this.” He sighed. “I want someone I can share everything with, someone who will trust me without reservation, who I can trust in return.”
She flinched, every word hitting her like a bullet. “Zak-”
“I do love you, Kara. But it isn’t enough. Not any more.”
And there it was. Every one of her worst fears, come to life. She’d finally managed to push him away, just as she’d always secretly known she would. Because she couldn’t be what he wanted, she wasn’t capable of it. She’d failed him and so he was leaving.
The irony of it stunned her. Because that was why she hadn’t confided in him in the first place, why she’d never told him her secrets. So he wouldn’t leave. And now he was leaving anyway, because he felt she didn’t trust him. Hysterical laughter bubbled up inside her.
“Kara, say something.” He was looking at her anxiously.
She couldn’t. There was nothing to say. He didn’t want her any more, and that was that. Besides, if she spoke she was afraid she might start crying, and she didn’t want to be so vulnerable in front of him. Not now.
Zak stared at her a moment longer, and then sighed.
“I’m sorry, Kara.” He got up from his chair. “I don’t know what else to say.”
She shrugged mutely, wishing he would just go. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hang on to her composure.
“I know this is hard, but I think it’s for the best.” He looked at her, obviously hoping for a response, but she couldn’t give him one. His shoulders slumped a little.
“All right. I’ll go now.” He finally turned to leave.
She just managed to hold back the tears until he closed the hatch.
----
Zak took refuge in the nearest storage locker, needing time to compose himself. He leaned against the wall and took a few shuddering breaths, blinking back the tears that rose to his eyes.
He’d known it was going to be hard, and it had been. She’d looked so hurt, so stricken…he’d nearly caved in, taken it all back.
But deep down he was glad he hadn’t. Even apart from her feelings for Lee, it wouldn’t have worked. Everything he’d said had been true. He did love her, but it wasn’t enough any more. He wasn’t the same person he’d been when they got together, and he’d outgrown their relationship, hard as it was to admit it.
It hurt. So badly that he thought it might tear him apart, and he knew it was going to hurt for a long time to come. But underneath that was a creeping sense of relief, and of freedom. He’d made the right choice, he knew that, however painful it was.
When he finally left the storage locker, and headed to his bunkroom to pack for his transfer to Pegasus, he felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.