And I Will Be Your Hands, PG-13, Part 1
Title: And I Will Be Your Hands, Part 1
Author: Word Vomity
Pairing: Kara/Lee
Word Count: 4843
Rating: PG-13 for now
Spoilers: Through Rapture, 3.12
Summary: Lee helps Kara work through her injuries after Rapture.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Un-beta'd. This idea just got in my brain and wouldn't get out. I think the idea of Kara's hands being useless would be terrifying to her in a way that I think the show missed showing us. But then, everything got a little weird with pilots around this time.
The flight deck is abuzz in the moments after they land. They'd survived, again. One more lucky day of smiles and cheers. Relief and joy surround them, but she wonders to herself, how many more free passes would they get? Sam finds her first; wraps her tight in his arms, holds her, loves her. He asks for nothing more than what she is, expects nothing more. It's so much easier to relax in his arms; so forgiving, so unguarded. From her periphery, she sees Lee wrap himself around Dee. It hurts. It shouldn't hurt so much, but it rises like bile in her chest. They lock eyes for a moment and she swears it feels like they're wrapped around each other instead. It fades. It always fades into the harsh light of reality. She turns away quickly, focusing on the comfort Sam offers and trying not to resent Lee for seeking that same comfort in his wife. He assuages his guilt breathing out his relief that his failings as a husband hadn't cost any on them their lives. It doesn't quite work. But then again, it never has before either. Guilt is the language they speak to each other in. Bitterness and regret, the air they breathe.
She'd thought they could keep the affair light. Frak the built-up tension away with the shield of their marriages to prevent things from getting too intense. She should have known that Lee could never do it. Everything with him was always so consuming and intense. Even across the hanger deck, her body hums in the exhilaration of their near-deaths and all she wants is to have his hands on her. She itches to touch him, to make certain he'd truly survived, that she had; but there are too many eyes here and he'd ended it anyways. She no longer had the right to touch him, not that she ever truly had. Trying to flex away the urge to reach for him, she's ripped back to reality by the blinding pain of her ravaged hands. Her yelp draws the attention of both men. Her effort to disguise the agony is useless and with the adrenaline and morpha both quickly wearing off with the euphoria of their escape, the throbbing is hitting her full tilt. All she wants is to not feel anything. Lee's concerned look, Sam's questions, the pain. As her world goes black, she silently thanks the Gods for their small mercy.
***
Lee slams his fist into the wall tearing open the skin of his knuckles. The blood wells slowly into tiny pools before overflowing down his fist comically dripping garish and scarlet. He watches in fascination and feels better. Dropping to his knees, he struggles to regain his breath. He'd almost lost her, both of them really, because he'd sent them into the waiting hands of the enemy. He knew that he'd had to. He was the commanding officer and they needed to defend the objective. He couldn't second guess himself because he was emotionally compromised. But Gods, the sight of her; singed around the edges, her hands wrapped and useless, collapsing in front of him. He couldn't do that to her, not again. Not after Kendra's sacrifice had already gotten them out of hot water once. And now Dee…Gods, Dee! What kind of man am I, he wonders silently. Not having an answer, he reaches back and reconnects with the wall, the crack echoing loudly against the jagged metal. More blood spills as flesh gives way beneath metal. That was good. Only pain would take the pain away.
***
He watches her sleep. She's fidgeting and uncomfortable even under all the pain killers she's on. Watching the doctor remove the makeshift bandages had been the worst. The pain had brought her around and he wasn't likely to forget her screams anytime soon. He'd never seen her lose it like that before. He didn't know she could and when he'd gotten a look at the charred skin beneath her gloves, he'd escaped to empty his stomach in private. The nurse had quickly put her back under the sedatives before treating her burns. He was thankful for that until she started murmuring Lee's name, pleading with him, words of apology begging him to stay. Mostly just his name. Sam sat beside her. He'll stay. No matter how she hurts him. No matter how she pushes. He loves her, even when he hates her. Sometimes he struggles to see the difference.
***
She comes to in sickbay which is not an entirely new occurrence for her. Having her hands tied down however is, and panic floods her system. She snaps from groggy to hyper-aware immediately and her eyes search for answers.
"Hey." She hears to her right, his voice sounds tired. She regards Sam quickly before continuing her scan of her surroundings.
His hand reaches out to her shoulder, trying to soothe. "He's not here, Kara. He came by earlier, but you were so out of it. I don't think he felt comfortable staying with me. I can go find him if you want though."
"I wasn't looking for him!" She snaps as she shrugs his hand off her. "Why are my hands tied?"
"You were thrashing. They were afraid you'd hurt yourself more." He explains, "They'll take them off now. I'll get the nurse." He rose to find the woman, anxious that Kara be as comfortable as possible, but her voice stopped him.
"I..." She trails off, uncertainty clear on her face. Clearing her throat, she turns away from him. "I want to see him, Sam. Can you get him?"
Her words come out halted and weak. She hates the sound of them, but her need overcomes the shame. Looking back, she sees his profile tense and tight. He looks back, the hurt shining openly from his eyes. Giving her a curt nod of acknowledgement, he walks away.
The memory of his expression sticks with her long after the sound of his footsteps disappears.
***
Sam doesn't have to go far to find him. He's pacing just outside sickbay, his concern as evident as his indecision to enter. His head rises to meet Sam's gaze. For a moment they just stare, each so entangled with thoughts of the woman beyond the door that they don't know how to deal with one another.
"She's asking for you."
"OK." Lee starts for the door, but pauses. "I'm sorry, Sam. I don't..."
A supplicating hand held up in surrender stops further fumbling.
"I know. But she's still my wife, Lee. Whatever else is going on, she's my wife, OK?"
Nodding as his chest constricts at the truth of the words, Lee pushes through the door, "Believe me, I know."
***
She hears him coming before she sees him. Even his footsteps speak to her of his hesitancy, his fear, his determination in spite of all. They lock eyes as he pulls back her curtain, their faces grim.
He breaks the stalemate first approaching her, his body awkward with their latest interactions still bright in his memory. "Sam said you wanted to see me."
She chokes out a bitter laugh. "Yeah I..." Gods, she hates how terrible they are at this. Nothing ever comes out right. "Do you think we're being punished, Lee? For all the things we've done wrong to the people who care about us? For letting them down? For being selfish? For thinking we can have what we want?"
Dropping to the chair beside her, he shrugs. "I don't know. Whatever our sins have been, I think we've all been punished enough."
"I just...I didn't used to be afraid of dying, you know? But today..." She felt herself crumbling and as her eyes start to well up with the emotion she'd been denying.
"Hey." Sliding closer, he lays a hand to her shoulder. "It's OK, Kara. I know things are bad right now, but you can tell me, whatever it is. I won't be mad, I promise."
Choking back the tears threatening to spill, she pushes out the words, terrified by the events of the day, scared she'll never get another chance.
"I almost died. YOU almost died." The mere memory of almost losing him overcoming her resolve, the tears began to fall in earnest. Embarrassed and ashamed, she hastily reaches to wipe away the evidence of her weakness; but finding her arms still restrained, sobs out her frustration loudly.
Sensing her desperation, Lee carefully reaches out to swipe away the wetness from her cheeks before reaching to undo the knots holding her down.
"Just be careful, OK?" He asks softly as he releases the bonds.
"Yeah, I know." She agrees, trying to adjust her position to sit up while begin careful not to jostle her hands. Lee, unable to stand watching her struggle, leans in and wraps his arms around her waist before lifting her higher on the bed. His hands feel so good on her and she wishes she could wrap herself around him and just keep him there. His physical presence is proof that they were both still here, both still breathing. But so many things hold her back; her arms, though free were still painfully awkward to move; her hands, more like foreign objects, than actual parts of her body; the memory that he'd ended things between them only hours ago; the image of Sam's pained face and the sting of Dee's cold slap. She's paralyzed with doubt. Their earlier words echo in her head.
"So where does that leave us?"
"Trapped."
Setting her back against her pillows gently, he steps back. She immediately misses his touch, his scent. At a loss for to how to proceed, he simply sits beside her for a bit. Neither speaks. They can't think of anything worth saying. What else is there?
Eventually Cottle comes in. "Well, you really outdid yourself this time, Thrace. If you missed me that much, you could've just dropped by. No need for such drastic measures."
"I like to make my visits memorable, Doc. Don't wanna get lost in the crowd." She tries to joke, but it doesn't play. She's clearly tense in anticipation of his prognosis.
"Heh." His gruff manner is nothing new, but his hesitancy to deliver his results is.
Lee stands, "So, what's the verdict? Will she be alright?"
"Eventually," He hedges. "But recovering from burns is no walk in the park. It takes time and a lot of help. People can manage well enough with a busted knee, but being unable to use your hands is another story. I'll keep her here for the first week, but she'll..."
"SHE'S right here, old man!" Kara barks angrily from her bed. "And SHE would appreciate if you didn't talk about her like SHE wasn't!"
Cottle just grunts, accustomed to her obstinacy and unimpressed, clearly no more thrilled at the prospect of having her as a guest of his sickbay than she was to be one.
Lee steps between them. Ever the peacemaker, she thinks inwardly. "Thank you, Doctor. She'll have all the help she needs."
Nodding, he turns to leave. "I'll be back to check your bandages in a couple hours. The nurse should be in with more meds soon."
Once he'd gone, she shoots Lee a wry look, "Lee, you can't take care of me. You know you can't. What's Dee going to say? And Sam?"
He sits gently beside her on the bed, his leg tight against hers, "I'm leaving Dee."
When she moves to cut him off, he places his finger softly over her lips. "No. I'm not asking anything of you, Kara. But I can't be married to her while I'm in love with somebody else. It's not fair to her and she doesn't deserve it. Sam's under no illusions about us. He's made that perfectly clear to me. So I'll be here, helping you. I'm sure Sam will help too."
Her eyes roll at the thought of the two of them taking care of her together. "Damn it Lee! I don't want help!"
"You wouldn't be you if you did." He chides, running his palm down her arm. "But you're gonna need it. I promise to be as un-patronizing about it as possible."
"Yeah right," She snorts, trying to shrug off the shiver that his touch sends down her spine. "You'll love having me at your mercy. This is your dream come true."
Laughing, he rises from her side. She feels the loss as soon as his weight lifts away. "You need rest and I have to debrief the Admiral. I'll send Sam back in and I'll come by later. You'll be nicer once you're drugged up."
"I'd throw this bedpan at you if I could use my hands right now." She threatens weakly.
"Kara," he ventures softly, "You're going to be OK. Everything will be."
"How do you know?" She sighs sadly.
"Because,” he shrugs simply, “I'm Lee and you're Kara."
"Oh, like that explains it all." She snaps, exasperated and sarcastic.
"It could," his voice unwavering, "If you let it."
He sees her face soften slightly. Notices her eyes linger on him. “Lee?” She asks, “What did you do to your hand?”
Realizing that she'd noticed the damage he'd inflicted on his fist earlier, he dodged. “Look who’s taking.”
Undaunted she pushes harder, “Lee. What. Did. You. Do?”
“I got mad.” He shrugs. “The wall won.”
Shaking her head, she rolls her eyes, “It usually does genius.”
Leaning conspiratorially close, he lowers his voice. “Well now I know that.”
She offers him a small smile. "You'll be back later?"
"Count on it." He nods, willing himself not to push her. "I need to talk to Dee first, but after that I'll be here."
"Good." After a beat she adds quietly, "I'm glad you're OK."
"I'll remind you of that when I have to spoon feed you later." He grins.
"Like hell!" She groans.
"Be nice to Cottle while I'm gone." He teases.
"I’ll be good for the doctor if you’ll be nice to my husband." She shoots back without thinking.
He visibly tenses before he can stop himself. Offering her a weak grin, he salutes and ducks away.
Shit! She thinks to herself angrily. Why the hell did I have to say that? We were actually talking. He's already giving up so much for me and I still just can't help but hurt him. She wonders if maybe they were born to hurt each other.
***
They get through the first few days tolerably. Lee and Sam take shifts keeping her company, keeping her distracted from the painful itching of her slowly healing skin. It’s awkward for all of them, but she can tell that they are both trying for her sake. So she works to keep her insolence to a minimum. Unfortunately, she’s fairly certain that her success in that resolution is probably only about 50/50 at best. Sam plays Triad with her, which is quite a task since he has to hold both hands of cards considering her condition. He sneaks her ambrosia shots when Cottle isn’t looking. Lee brings her news of the fleet, tells her about the new bar he helped to set up, about their interrogation of Baltar.
Neither of them pushes her nor asks her the hard questions that she expects them too. She’s eternally grateful for that. She hasn’t had the emotional fortitude to question Lee about his conversation with Dee and he hasn’t offered any intelligence on his own. They keep things light. He barely touches her, except to help her eat or change or scratch an itch on her nose. Even Sam has pulled away from her physically, though he helps her shower eventually, after all sponge baths can only clean so much. He’s careful to be clinical and reserved during the event, never straying too long into forbidden territory, never seeking to arouse but only to clean. She’s glad not to have to make any decisions yet. To not be forced to decide the state of things between them.
But when Lee comes by and sees her still-wet hair and pink skin, he noticeably stiffens.
“You showered.” He states obviously.
She shifts restlessly at his demeanor as the alarms start ringing in her head.
“Yeah, I needed one and Sam was here…” She trails off, unsure how much to share.
“Right,” He says flatly, his jaw clenching around the word, his body screaming his repressed pain.
“It wasn’t…” She starts, before swallowing the words. “It was just a shower, Lee. Nothing happened. I swear.”
Releasing his breath in a slow puff of air, he turns away. His hands run through his hair roughly disheveling it.
“I’m sorry. I have no right. He’s your husband. I…” Laughing bitterly at the absurdity of their situation he turns back to look her straight in the eye. “I’m trying to wait, Kara. Until we can all figure this out once you’re well again, but the thought of his hands on you makes me frakking insane. I need to go. I’ll come back, but I need to get out of here right now.”
Her heart starts beating in panic as she watches him turn away. “Wait!” She begs. “Lee! Please!”
Her plea freezes him, but he’s unable to bring himself to look at her still dripping with the evidence of her recent activities.
“They’re gonna remove the bandages today.” She reminds him in a broken whisper.
Frak! He’d forgotten. She’d been dreading today. He could tell, though she hadn’t expressly said so. Cottle had warned them that it would be bad and that she’d need support.
“Right,” He concedes. “Right, I’m sorry. I completely forgot. Of course I’ll stay. I didn’t mean to,” not finding the right words, he just lets the sentence hang.
“I was being stubborn,” she explains as he sits, “I didn’t want the nurse to do it and I didn’t think about how it would look to you. I just wanted to be clean and I couldn’t stand the thought of some stranger washing me. He’s been my husband for more than a year, Lee.” She pauses for a moment while he absorbs her confession.
“Honestly, it was completely innocent. He’s as hesitant to touch me right now as you are, actually. Between the two of you, I think I’ve managed a couple forehead kisses and a few knee pats all week. I’m not really rolling in play right now.”
She can see that he’s beginning to relax as his breath starts evening out. “Gods,” She tries to force out a laugh but it gets lost somewhere in her throat, “You should see your face right now.”
He shoots her a withering glance, before shaking his head at her. “I get it. Really Kara, it just caught me off guard. It’s fine. I don’t like it, but I’ll deal. He’s your husband. I really do get it.”
“Yeah?” She challenges, his honesty emboldening her. “So you’re OK with him & me? You’re OK with sharing all the sudden? Because I doubt he’d mind, you know?”
His eyes flicker golden at the thought before he restrains himself. The momentary rage is not lost on her. His possessive nature thrills her and she feels a stab of lightening between her legs at his intense stare. Slowly he leans over her, encroaching into her personal space, his face so close that she can feel his breath, his arms creating a cage around her. “No. I am NOT OK with it. And I won’t share you. But I will endure this for now. Because now is not the time to force the issue. But when this is over Kara and you’re out of this hospital bed, you and I are going to have a serious talk about the current status of your marriage. So figure things out while you’ve got the free time to think in here because the days of you having your cake and eating it too, are quickly coming to an end.” Then with a surprising tenderness he presses a gentle kiss against her surprised mouth. He’s gone before she has a chance to respond, sitting in his chair like nothing had happened. Her mouth still tingles as the ghost of his kiss lingers on her lips.
“Frak, Lee.” She moans softly, “Can you NOT get me worked up right now? I don’t exactly have the option to deal with it on my own.”
A ragged laugh tears from his throat and breaks the thick tension. “No promises. Especially not when I get the kind of welcome surprise that I received today. Gods Kara, you drive me crazy.”
Grinning back she laughs, “I must really be getting good if I don’t even have to try anymore.”
They were still grinning like fools when Cottle came in. “Keep that spirit up, children because things are about the get a lot less fun. Those bandages are ready to come off, but your hands are still not yours to use. The air will be painful but they need it to heal. Keep them still and rested.”
Kara nodded eagerly, glad to finally be moving towards her old life, “How much longer will I need to be here?”
“A couple more days. I want to make sure the grafts are taking before letting you lose to mess them all up again.” Pausing, he eyes her, “This is going to hurt Starbuck. Nurse is gonna morpha you to take the edge off, but it’s still gonna hurt like a sonofabitch. Lee, if you can distract her, now’s the time.”
She tries to act tough for them, but Lee can see the nervous energy coursing through her. Nudging her to sit, he slides into the bed behind her, letting her weight lean back into his. This is closer than they’ve been in days and he can feel some of the fear draining from her at the contact. He wraps his arms tightly around her waist, anchoring her back to his chest as the doctor and nurse set up their tools beside them. Hooking his chin into the curve of her neck he whispers, “You’ll be alright. This is going to suck, but it’s going to get you back in the sky where you belong. And I’m here. Whatever you need, I’m here.”
He can feel her breath release at his words. She nods against him. “Yeah, OK. I’m fine.”
His hands find their way under the hem of her tank to lightly caress the soft skin of her belly. He feels her muscles clench at the contact, the surprised hitch in her breath as he trails his fingertips across the expanse of tight skin. “What happened to waiting until I’m out of here?” She asks breathlessly.
Biting teasingly at her ear he groans, “As soon as those bandages come off you’re back to knee pats and forehead kisses, but it hurts me when you hurt, so let’s try to get through this pain of ours together right now, OK?”
Not trusting the strength of her voice, she offers him a small nod.
“It you two are done, we’re ready to start.” Cottles’s bark startles them both back to the present task.
“Not done, no.” She sighs heavily. “But go ahead anyways.”
The process of removing the bandages and treating her burns is as terrible as Cottle’d warned her it would be. Later she wonders if she would’ve been able to stand it at all without Lee strength, holding her up both physically and mentally, his jokes at Cottle’s expense, his gentle hands distracting her from the searing sensation that her skin was being flawed from her body, his whispered promises that she’d be okay whenever she lost the battle to hold the tears back.
Following the procedure, she feels like one giant exposed nerve. Not just her hands but all of her feels too open, too unprotected. She knows he can tell. He doesn’t push her to speak and she’s thankful as she isn’t sure she could manage without breaking down. He just sits beside her again and holds vigil until she nods off.
By the time she wakes, he’s gone again.
***
Dee is not surprised. When Lee had come to her and ended things, her heart broke and her dreams shattered, but she’d known that her life had been built on a deck of cards and whatever dreams may have temporarily held it up, had always been just that. She’d thought that it’d be worth it. Even if he could never love her like he loved Starbuck, but it hadn’t been. Loving a man who loved someone else had just ended up leaving her filled with bitterness towards him for not being able to be the husband she wanted and at herself for not being the wife he did.
When he leaves her, it’s quick. She’s thankful for that at least. All of this has gone on too long already. She doesn’t say much. She doesn’t argue. She just lets him go. Lost in her reflections, she packs her belongings, removing herself from the life of Lee Adama, piece by piece. Her toothbrush. Her clothes. It feels like erasing the past, like undoing their history, rewriting what was into this new thing. This unnamed state. This broken memory.
“He won’t cheat.”
That’s what Starbuck had said. It was a small comfort to her now. His useless morality was a line drawn in the sand that changed nothing. Whatever beliefs he held about right and wrong were powerless to change the truth of the situation. He loved Kara and he did not love her. Whatever honor bound restrictions he applied to his actions would not change that fact. Whether he cheated or not, he was cheating. She wanted to hate him but she knew that loving someone wasn’t a choice you could opt out of, not to Lee anyways. What was just was and could not be otherwise no matter what a piece of paper said, no matter what they wore upon their fingers. But she was not so cemented in herself.
Sagittaron had been a desolate planet and before her escape from its barren terrain, she’d been bitter and resolved to get as far away from that place that had defined her from birth as she could manage. That name that told people just what she was expected to be. Sagittaron. She’d been ashamed of her roots from an early age and had worked to distance herself from the connotations that went hand in hand with the name Sagittaron. She felt the same disgust creeping through her veins now. The desire to escape her connections and her defined place as Lee Adama’s wife was overwhelming. Just another name for the world to see, another expectation, wife, Adama. This is who you are, these words. Were, she adjusts inwardly. Although they shared a surname, they’d never been as synonymous with one another as Lee & Kara were. Their connection as mere pilots trumping her own with her husband. Starbuck & Apollo. It echoed in her ears. They were stone. Immovable and constant. But she was not stone. She was clay.
She would lose this identity as well. Shed it like her birthplace. Move on and reinvent. Destiny had born her to a planet she could not respect, her own actions her turned her into a woman she didn’t recognize. She’d adapt. There’s always another name to don and another person to become.
***
Sometimes she thinks she sees more with her eyes closed. The scenes of past miseries dance against the screen of tightly clenched lids. She pushes the horrors into the vague edges of her mind, fighting a useless battle with her memory, attempting to ignore that which can't be erased. She fights fatigue to keep her eyes always open.
She tries to outrun it with her limited energy. It catches her in still moments, in quiet corners; so she rarely stills and she's rarely quiet. Movement. Movement and noise. It's hard to listen to the misgivings within your heart amidst the adrenaline pounding distractions of sex and booze. It's difficult to hear your treacherous thoughts when your mind is filled with the braying laughter of so many good times and the howling rages of fists against skin.
But there is little movement in a hospital bed, little noise. It has become difficult to keep her eyes open here, to keep the memories out. There are no distractions. There are only her thoughts, mingled with her pain and so much stillness. Everything catches up with her in the stillness; her mother’s voice, the guilt of Zak, the loss of her father, the shock of the cylon attack that took away their worlds, that frakking farm, Lee, Sam, Kat and all the faceless others lost to the dusty pages of history, if they survive long enough for a history to be written at all.
Lee is like being forced to sit still and quite in this hospital room. He too quiets her chaos, stills her internal mechanisms. He lets the memories seep to the surface. She pushes and twists from his grasp. A furious beast resisting and thrashing itself to death mistakenly caught within a hunter's net snarling and growling at the fumbling hands that would offer it salvation. Unwilling to believe in the possibility that nature's brutality would offer such undesigning freedom without a price, without retribution. He slows her down. Lets the memories catch up. So she runs. She’s always run. Except now when she is forced to remain fixed, here in the stew of her own invasive and poisonous thoughts. Sam’s pained expression flits through her mind, then Lee’s guilty eyes downcast. Her legs itch to run. She wonders how one escapes herself.
Part 2
Author: Word Vomity
Pairing: Kara/Lee
Word Count: 4843
Rating: PG-13 for now
Spoilers: Through Rapture, 3.12
Summary: Lee helps Kara work through her injuries after Rapture.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Un-beta'd. This idea just got in my brain and wouldn't get out. I think the idea of Kara's hands being useless would be terrifying to her in a way that I think the show missed showing us. But then, everything got a little weird with pilots around this time.
The flight deck is abuzz in the moments after they land. They'd survived, again. One more lucky day of smiles and cheers. Relief and joy surround them, but she wonders to herself, how many more free passes would they get? Sam finds her first; wraps her tight in his arms, holds her, loves her. He asks for nothing more than what she is, expects nothing more. It's so much easier to relax in his arms; so forgiving, so unguarded. From her periphery, she sees Lee wrap himself around Dee. It hurts. It shouldn't hurt so much, but it rises like bile in her chest. They lock eyes for a moment and she swears it feels like they're wrapped around each other instead. It fades. It always fades into the harsh light of reality. She turns away quickly, focusing on the comfort Sam offers and trying not to resent Lee for seeking that same comfort in his wife. He assuages his guilt breathing out his relief that his failings as a husband hadn't cost any on them their lives. It doesn't quite work. But then again, it never has before either. Guilt is the language they speak to each other in. Bitterness and regret, the air they breathe.
She'd thought they could keep the affair light. Frak the built-up tension away with the shield of their marriages to prevent things from getting too intense. She should have known that Lee could never do it. Everything with him was always so consuming and intense. Even across the hanger deck, her body hums in the exhilaration of their near-deaths and all she wants is to have his hands on her. She itches to touch him, to make certain he'd truly survived, that she had; but there are too many eyes here and he'd ended it anyways. She no longer had the right to touch him, not that she ever truly had. Trying to flex away the urge to reach for him, she's ripped back to reality by the blinding pain of her ravaged hands. Her yelp draws the attention of both men. Her effort to disguise the agony is useless and with the adrenaline and morpha both quickly wearing off with the euphoria of their escape, the throbbing is hitting her full tilt. All she wants is to not feel anything. Lee's concerned look, Sam's questions, the pain. As her world goes black, she silently thanks the Gods for their small mercy.
***
Lee slams his fist into the wall tearing open the skin of his knuckles. The blood wells slowly into tiny pools before overflowing down his fist comically dripping garish and scarlet. He watches in fascination and feels better. Dropping to his knees, he struggles to regain his breath. He'd almost lost her, both of them really, because he'd sent them into the waiting hands of the enemy. He knew that he'd had to. He was the commanding officer and they needed to defend the objective. He couldn't second guess himself because he was emotionally compromised. But Gods, the sight of her; singed around the edges, her hands wrapped and useless, collapsing in front of him. He couldn't do that to her, not again. Not after Kendra's sacrifice had already gotten them out of hot water once. And now Dee…Gods, Dee! What kind of man am I, he wonders silently. Not having an answer, he reaches back and reconnects with the wall, the crack echoing loudly against the jagged metal. More blood spills as flesh gives way beneath metal. That was good. Only pain would take the pain away.
***
He watches her sleep. She's fidgeting and uncomfortable even under all the pain killers she's on. Watching the doctor remove the makeshift bandages had been the worst. The pain had brought her around and he wasn't likely to forget her screams anytime soon. He'd never seen her lose it like that before. He didn't know she could and when he'd gotten a look at the charred skin beneath her gloves, he'd escaped to empty his stomach in private. The nurse had quickly put her back under the sedatives before treating her burns. He was thankful for that until she started murmuring Lee's name, pleading with him, words of apology begging him to stay. Mostly just his name. Sam sat beside her. He'll stay. No matter how she hurts him. No matter how she pushes. He loves her, even when he hates her. Sometimes he struggles to see the difference.
***
She comes to in sickbay which is not an entirely new occurrence for her. Having her hands tied down however is, and panic floods her system. She snaps from groggy to hyper-aware immediately and her eyes search for answers.
"Hey." She hears to her right, his voice sounds tired. She regards Sam quickly before continuing her scan of her surroundings.
His hand reaches out to her shoulder, trying to soothe. "He's not here, Kara. He came by earlier, but you were so out of it. I don't think he felt comfortable staying with me. I can go find him if you want though."
"I wasn't looking for him!" She snaps as she shrugs his hand off her. "Why are my hands tied?"
"You were thrashing. They were afraid you'd hurt yourself more." He explains, "They'll take them off now. I'll get the nurse." He rose to find the woman, anxious that Kara be as comfortable as possible, but her voice stopped him.
"I..." She trails off, uncertainty clear on her face. Clearing her throat, she turns away from him. "I want to see him, Sam. Can you get him?"
Her words come out halted and weak. She hates the sound of them, but her need overcomes the shame. Looking back, she sees his profile tense and tight. He looks back, the hurt shining openly from his eyes. Giving her a curt nod of acknowledgement, he walks away.
The memory of his expression sticks with her long after the sound of his footsteps disappears.
***
Sam doesn't have to go far to find him. He's pacing just outside sickbay, his concern as evident as his indecision to enter. His head rises to meet Sam's gaze. For a moment they just stare, each so entangled with thoughts of the woman beyond the door that they don't know how to deal with one another.
"She's asking for you."
"OK." Lee starts for the door, but pauses. "I'm sorry, Sam. I don't..."
A supplicating hand held up in surrender stops further fumbling.
"I know. But she's still my wife, Lee. Whatever else is going on, she's my wife, OK?"
Nodding as his chest constricts at the truth of the words, Lee pushes through the door, "Believe me, I know."
***
She hears him coming before she sees him. Even his footsteps speak to her of his hesitancy, his fear, his determination in spite of all. They lock eyes as he pulls back her curtain, their faces grim.
He breaks the stalemate first approaching her, his body awkward with their latest interactions still bright in his memory. "Sam said you wanted to see me."
She chokes out a bitter laugh. "Yeah I..." Gods, she hates how terrible they are at this. Nothing ever comes out right. "Do you think we're being punished, Lee? For all the things we've done wrong to the people who care about us? For letting them down? For being selfish? For thinking we can have what we want?"
Dropping to the chair beside her, he shrugs. "I don't know. Whatever our sins have been, I think we've all been punished enough."
"I just...I didn't used to be afraid of dying, you know? But today..." She felt herself crumbling and as her eyes start to well up with the emotion she'd been denying.
"Hey." Sliding closer, he lays a hand to her shoulder. "It's OK, Kara. I know things are bad right now, but you can tell me, whatever it is. I won't be mad, I promise."
Choking back the tears threatening to spill, she pushes out the words, terrified by the events of the day, scared she'll never get another chance.
"I almost died. YOU almost died." The mere memory of almost losing him overcoming her resolve, the tears began to fall in earnest. Embarrassed and ashamed, she hastily reaches to wipe away the evidence of her weakness; but finding her arms still restrained, sobs out her frustration loudly.
Sensing her desperation, Lee carefully reaches out to swipe away the wetness from her cheeks before reaching to undo the knots holding her down.
"Just be careful, OK?" He asks softly as he releases the bonds.
"Yeah, I know." She agrees, trying to adjust her position to sit up while begin careful not to jostle her hands. Lee, unable to stand watching her struggle, leans in and wraps his arms around her waist before lifting her higher on the bed. His hands feel so good on her and she wishes she could wrap herself around him and just keep him there. His physical presence is proof that they were both still here, both still breathing. But so many things hold her back; her arms, though free were still painfully awkward to move; her hands, more like foreign objects, than actual parts of her body; the memory that he'd ended things between them only hours ago; the image of Sam's pained face and the sting of Dee's cold slap. She's paralyzed with doubt. Their earlier words echo in her head.
"So where does that leave us?"
"Trapped."
Setting her back against her pillows gently, he steps back. She immediately misses his touch, his scent. At a loss for to how to proceed, he simply sits beside her for a bit. Neither speaks. They can't think of anything worth saying. What else is there?
Eventually Cottle comes in. "Well, you really outdid yourself this time, Thrace. If you missed me that much, you could've just dropped by. No need for such drastic measures."
"I like to make my visits memorable, Doc. Don't wanna get lost in the crowd." She tries to joke, but it doesn't play. She's clearly tense in anticipation of his prognosis.
"Heh." His gruff manner is nothing new, but his hesitancy to deliver his results is.
Lee stands, "So, what's the verdict? Will she be alright?"
"Eventually," He hedges. "But recovering from burns is no walk in the park. It takes time and a lot of help. People can manage well enough with a busted knee, but being unable to use your hands is another story. I'll keep her here for the first week, but she'll..."
"SHE'S right here, old man!" Kara barks angrily from her bed. "And SHE would appreciate if you didn't talk about her like SHE wasn't!"
Cottle just grunts, accustomed to her obstinacy and unimpressed, clearly no more thrilled at the prospect of having her as a guest of his sickbay than she was to be one.
Lee steps between them. Ever the peacemaker, she thinks inwardly. "Thank you, Doctor. She'll have all the help she needs."
Nodding, he turns to leave. "I'll be back to check your bandages in a couple hours. The nurse should be in with more meds soon."
Once he'd gone, she shoots Lee a wry look, "Lee, you can't take care of me. You know you can't. What's Dee going to say? And Sam?"
He sits gently beside her on the bed, his leg tight against hers, "I'm leaving Dee."
When she moves to cut him off, he places his finger softly over her lips. "No. I'm not asking anything of you, Kara. But I can't be married to her while I'm in love with somebody else. It's not fair to her and she doesn't deserve it. Sam's under no illusions about us. He's made that perfectly clear to me. So I'll be here, helping you. I'm sure Sam will help too."
Her eyes roll at the thought of the two of them taking care of her together. "Damn it Lee! I don't want help!"
"You wouldn't be you if you did." He chides, running his palm down her arm. "But you're gonna need it. I promise to be as un-patronizing about it as possible."
"Yeah right," She snorts, trying to shrug off the shiver that his touch sends down her spine. "You'll love having me at your mercy. This is your dream come true."
Laughing, he rises from her side. She feels the loss as soon as his weight lifts away. "You need rest and I have to debrief the Admiral. I'll send Sam back in and I'll come by later. You'll be nicer once you're drugged up."
"I'd throw this bedpan at you if I could use my hands right now." She threatens weakly.
"Kara," he ventures softly, "You're going to be OK. Everything will be."
"How do you know?" She sighs sadly.
"Because,” he shrugs simply, “I'm Lee and you're Kara."
"Oh, like that explains it all." She snaps, exasperated and sarcastic.
"It could," his voice unwavering, "If you let it."
He sees her face soften slightly. Notices her eyes linger on him. “Lee?” She asks, “What did you do to your hand?”
Realizing that she'd noticed the damage he'd inflicted on his fist earlier, he dodged. “Look who’s taking.”
Undaunted she pushes harder, “Lee. What. Did. You. Do?”
“I got mad.” He shrugs. “The wall won.”
Shaking her head, she rolls her eyes, “It usually does genius.”
Leaning conspiratorially close, he lowers his voice. “Well now I know that.”
She offers him a small smile. "You'll be back later?"
"Count on it." He nods, willing himself not to push her. "I need to talk to Dee first, but after that I'll be here."
"Good." After a beat she adds quietly, "I'm glad you're OK."
"I'll remind you of that when I have to spoon feed you later." He grins.
"Like hell!" She groans.
"Be nice to Cottle while I'm gone." He teases.
"I’ll be good for the doctor if you’ll be nice to my husband." She shoots back without thinking.
He visibly tenses before he can stop himself. Offering her a weak grin, he salutes and ducks away.
Shit! She thinks to herself angrily. Why the hell did I have to say that? We were actually talking. He's already giving up so much for me and I still just can't help but hurt him. She wonders if maybe they were born to hurt each other.
***
They get through the first few days tolerably. Lee and Sam take shifts keeping her company, keeping her distracted from the painful itching of her slowly healing skin. It’s awkward for all of them, but she can tell that they are both trying for her sake. So she works to keep her insolence to a minimum. Unfortunately, she’s fairly certain that her success in that resolution is probably only about 50/50 at best. Sam plays Triad with her, which is quite a task since he has to hold both hands of cards considering her condition. He sneaks her ambrosia shots when Cottle isn’t looking. Lee brings her news of the fleet, tells her about the new bar he helped to set up, about their interrogation of Baltar.
Neither of them pushes her nor asks her the hard questions that she expects them too. She’s eternally grateful for that. She hasn’t had the emotional fortitude to question Lee about his conversation with Dee and he hasn’t offered any intelligence on his own. They keep things light. He barely touches her, except to help her eat or change or scratch an itch on her nose. Even Sam has pulled away from her physically, though he helps her shower eventually, after all sponge baths can only clean so much. He’s careful to be clinical and reserved during the event, never straying too long into forbidden territory, never seeking to arouse but only to clean. She’s glad not to have to make any decisions yet. To not be forced to decide the state of things between them.
But when Lee comes by and sees her still-wet hair and pink skin, he noticeably stiffens.
“You showered.” He states obviously.
She shifts restlessly at his demeanor as the alarms start ringing in her head.
“Yeah, I needed one and Sam was here…” She trails off, unsure how much to share.
“Right,” He says flatly, his jaw clenching around the word, his body screaming his repressed pain.
“It wasn’t…” She starts, before swallowing the words. “It was just a shower, Lee. Nothing happened. I swear.”
Releasing his breath in a slow puff of air, he turns away. His hands run through his hair roughly disheveling it.
“I’m sorry. I have no right. He’s your husband. I…” Laughing bitterly at the absurdity of their situation he turns back to look her straight in the eye. “I’m trying to wait, Kara. Until we can all figure this out once you’re well again, but the thought of his hands on you makes me frakking insane. I need to go. I’ll come back, but I need to get out of here right now.”
Her heart starts beating in panic as she watches him turn away. “Wait!” She begs. “Lee! Please!”
Her plea freezes him, but he’s unable to bring himself to look at her still dripping with the evidence of her recent activities.
“They’re gonna remove the bandages today.” She reminds him in a broken whisper.
Frak! He’d forgotten. She’d been dreading today. He could tell, though she hadn’t expressly said so. Cottle had warned them that it would be bad and that she’d need support.
“Right,” He concedes. “Right, I’m sorry. I completely forgot. Of course I’ll stay. I didn’t mean to,” not finding the right words, he just lets the sentence hang.
“I was being stubborn,” she explains as he sits, “I didn’t want the nurse to do it and I didn’t think about how it would look to you. I just wanted to be clean and I couldn’t stand the thought of some stranger washing me. He’s been my husband for more than a year, Lee.” She pauses for a moment while he absorbs her confession.
“Honestly, it was completely innocent. He’s as hesitant to touch me right now as you are, actually. Between the two of you, I think I’ve managed a couple forehead kisses and a few knee pats all week. I’m not really rolling in play right now.”
She can see that he’s beginning to relax as his breath starts evening out. “Gods,” She tries to force out a laugh but it gets lost somewhere in her throat, “You should see your face right now.”
He shoots her a withering glance, before shaking his head at her. “I get it. Really Kara, it just caught me off guard. It’s fine. I don’t like it, but I’ll deal. He’s your husband. I really do get it.”
“Yeah?” She challenges, his honesty emboldening her. “So you’re OK with him & me? You’re OK with sharing all the sudden? Because I doubt he’d mind, you know?”
His eyes flicker golden at the thought before he restrains himself. The momentary rage is not lost on her. His possessive nature thrills her and she feels a stab of lightening between her legs at his intense stare. Slowly he leans over her, encroaching into her personal space, his face so close that she can feel his breath, his arms creating a cage around her. “No. I am NOT OK with it. And I won’t share you. But I will endure this for now. Because now is not the time to force the issue. But when this is over Kara and you’re out of this hospital bed, you and I are going to have a serious talk about the current status of your marriage. So figure things out while you’ve got the free time to think in here because the days of you having your cake and eating it too, are quickly coming to an end.” Then with a surprising tenderness he presses a gentle kiss against her surprised mouth. He’s gone before she has a chance to respond, sitting in his chair like nothing had happened. Her mouth still tingles as the ghost of his kiss lingers on her lips.
“Frak, Lee.” She moans softly, “Can you NOT get me worked up right now? I don’t exactly have the option to deal with it on my own.”
A ragged laugh tears from his throat and breaks the thick tension. “No promises. Especially not when I get the kind of welcome surprise that I received today. Gods Kara, you drive me crazy.”
Grinning back she laughs, “I must really be getting good if I don’t even have to try anymore.”
They were still grinning like fools when Cottle came in. “Keep that spirit up, children because things are about the get a lot less fun. Those bandages are ready to come off, but your hands are still not yours to use. The air will be painful but they need it to heal. Keep them still and rested.”
Kara nodded eagerly, glad to finally be moving towards her old life, “How much longer will I need to be here?”
“A couple more days. I want to make sure the grafts are taking before letting you lose to mess them all up again.” Pausing, he eyes her, “This is going to hurt Starbuck. Nurse is gonna morpha you to take the edge off, but it’s still gonna hurt like a sonofabitch. Lee, if you can distract her, now’s the time.”
She tries to act tough for them, but Lee can see the nervous energy coursing through her. Nudging her to sit, he slides into the bed behind her, letting her weight lean back into his. This is closer than they’ve been in days and he can feel some of the fear draining from her at the contact. He wraps his arms tightly around her waist, anchoring her back to his chest as the doctor and nurse set up their tools beside them. Hooking his chin into the curve of her neck he whispers, “You’ll be alright. This is going to suck, but it’s going to get you back in the sky where you belong. And I’m here. Whatever you need, I’m here.”
He can feel her breath release at his words. She nods against him. “Yeah, OK. I’m fine.”
His hands find their way under the hem of her tank to lightly caress the soft skin of her belly. He feels her muscles clench at the contact, the surprised hitch in her breath as he trails his fingertips across the expanse of tight skin. “What happened to waiting until I’m out of here?” She asks breathlessly.
Biting teasingly at her ear he groans, “As soon as those bandages come off you’re back to knee pats and forehead kisses, but it hurts me when you hurt, so let’s try to get through this pain of ours together right now, OK?”
Not trusting the strength of her voice, she offers him a small nod.
“It you two are done, we’re ready to start.” Cottles’s bark startles them both back to the present task.
“Not done, no.” She sighs heavily. “But go ahead anyways.”
The process of removing the bandages and treating her burns is as terrible as Cottle’d warned her it would be. Later she wonders if she would’ve been able to stand it at all without Lee strength, holding her up both physically and mentally, his jokes at Cottle’s expense, his gentle hands distracting her from the searing sensation that her skin was being flawed from her body, his whispered promises that she’d be okay whenever she lost the battle to hold the tears back.
Following the procedure, she feels like one giant exposed nerve. Not just her hands but all of her feels too open, too unprotected. She knows he can tell. He doesn’t push her to speak and she’s thankful as she isn’t sure she could manage without breaking down. He just sits beside her again and holds vigil until she nods off.
By the time she wakes, he’s gone again.
***
Dee is not surprised. When Lee had come to her and ended things, her heart broke and her dreams shattered, but she’d known that her life had been built on a deck of cards and whatever dreams may have temporarily held it up, had always been just that. She’d thought that it’d be worth it. Even if he could never love her like he loved Starbuck, but it hadn’t been. Loving a man who loved someone else had just ended up leaving her filled with bitterness towards him for not being able to be the husband she wanted and at herself for not being the wife he did.
When he leaves her, it’s quick. She’s thankful for that at least. All of this has gone on too long already. She doesn’t say much. She doesn’t argue. She just lets him go. Lost in her reflections, she packs her belongings, removing herself from the life of Lee Adama, piece by piece. Her toothbrush. Her clothes. It feels like erasing the past, like undoing their history, rewriting what was into this new thing. This unnamed state. This broken memory.
“He won’t cheat.”
That’s what Starbuck had said. It was a small comfort to her now. His useless morality was a line drawn in the sand that changed nothing. Whatever beliefs he held about right and wrong were powerless to change the truth of the situation. He loved Kara and he did not love her. Whatever honor bound restrictions he applied to his actions would not change that fact. Whether he cheated or not, he was cheating. She wanted to hate him but she knew that loving someone wasn’t a choice you could opt out of, not to Lee anyways. What was just was and could not be otherwise no matter what a piece of paper said, no matter what they wore upon their fingers. But she was not so cemented in herself.
Sagittaron had been a desolate planet and before her escape from its barren terrain, she’d been bitter and resolved to get as far away from that place that had defined her from birth as she could manage. That name that told people just what she was expected to be. Sagittaron. She’d been ashamed of her roots from an early age and had worked to distance herself from the connotations that went hand in hand with the name Sagittaron. She felt the same disgust creeping through her veins now. The desire to escape her connections and her defined place as Lee Adama’s wife was overwhelming. Just another name for the world to see, another expectation, wife, Adama. This is who you are, these words. Were, she adjusts inwardly. Although they shared a surname, they’d never been as synonymous with one another as Lee & Kara were. Their connection as mere pilots trumping her own with her husband. Starbuck & Apollo. It echoed in her ears. They were stone. Immovable and constant. But she was not stone. She was clay.
She would lose this identity as well. Shed it like her birthplace. Move on and reinvent. Destiny had born her to a planet she could not respect, her own actions her turned her into a woman she didn’t recognize. She’d adapt. There’s always another name to don and another person to become.
***
Sometimes she thinks she sees more with her eyes closed. The scenes of past miseries dance against the screen of tightly clenched lids. She pushes the horrors into the vague edges of her mind, fighting a useless battle with her memory, attempting to ignore that which can't be erased. She fights fatigue to keep her eyes always open.
She tries to outrun it with her limited energy. It catches her in still moments, in quiet corners; so she rarely stills and she's rarely quiet. Movement. Movement and noise. It's hard to listen to the misgivings within your heart amidst the adrenaline pounding distractions of sex and booze. It's difficult to hear your treacherous thoughts when your mind is filled with the braying laughter of so many good times and the howling rages of fists against skin.
But there is little movement in a hospital bed, little noise. It has become difficult to keep her eyes open here, to keep the memories out. There are no distractions. There are only her thoughts, mingled with her pain and so much stillness. Everything catches up with her in the stillness; her mother’s voice, the guilt of Zak, the loss of her father, the shock of the cylon attack that took away their worlds, that frakking farm, Lee, Sam, Kat and all the faceless others lost to the dusty pages of history, if they survive long enough for a history to be written at all.
Lee is like being forced to sit still and quite in this hospital room. He too quiets her chaos, stills her internal mechanisms. He lets the memories seep to the surface. She pushes and twists from his grasp. A furious beast resisting and thrashing itself to death mistakenly caught within a hunter's net snarling and growling at the fumbling hands that would offer it salvation. Unwilling to believe in the possibility that nature's brutality would offer such undesigning freedom without a price, without retribution. He slows her down. Lets the memories catch up. So she runs. She’s always run. Except now when she is forced to remain fixed, here in the stew of her own invasive and poisonous thoughts. Sam’s pained expression flits through her mind, then Lee’s guilty eyes downcast. Her legs itch to run. She wonders how one escapes herself.
Part 2