We used to wait. (Chapter 19/?)
title: We used to wait. (Chapter 19/?)
author:
apodixis
spoilers: Through all seasons, though this takes place in an AU starting at the very end of season 2.
pairings: kara/lee, kara/sam
overall fic rating: R/NC-17
word count: 6,067
notes: See http://apodixis.livejournal.com/685.html for more information.
summary: If God isn't leading the fleet to Earth, can they ever find it?
Mid-morning in Joe’s Bar left the place expectedly abandoned. It was the one time of day when things on the ship tended to be subdued and everyone at least pretended to be going about their own business and work. After lunch rolled around and everyone’s bellies were stuffed with the algae based meal, it would slowly begin to fill up as people passed in and out. The population would peak just after dinner as everyone tended to wind down, at least those who weren’t on shift. A steady crowd often existed through the middle of the night with those with the worst habits staying on at the bar until morning. By now, even those with dependency problems had gone to their racks or their jobs, leaving Lee alone with the barkeep.
Whiskey, or what passed for it these days, was his drink of choice, his glass resting on the top of the low backed piano he’d last sat at in happier times. Every now and again someone would sit down and tap out a few notes, perhaps even a tune they remembered, but this had been the first time Lee had the guts to approach the bench that he had shared alongside Kara. After that first night when he presented her with the gift to the bar, though he knew it was really for her, they’d returned every day at irregular intervals to further commit to his memory what she remembered as it came back to her. His piano skills were even rustier than hers had been, but she kept a surprising amount of patience with him.
His left hand pressed three fingers into the shape of the first chord, right hand assuming the part Kara had once played further down the keyboard. The song didn’t sound right without her, and not just because an entire hand’s worth of notes were missing from the melody. This song had been meant for two people, her father had written it that way, and something about it just screamed of all things Kara Thrace. It was like her soul was put to music, capturing all that she was, even though she’d only been a child when she first learned it from the man that gave her half of her life.
He played it at a slower rhythm than it was intended to get the hang of the pattern, as well as let himself enjoy it for as long as possible. With a crowd around, a bit of self-conscious anxiety would have built up inside of him, but with only the bartender for company, he paid it no mind. His eyes shut, imagining Kara’s fingers pressing over his own as she had the first night, guiding him appropriately. When he reopened them, she was beside him, and like the tens of times he’d seen her over the weeks since her death, it didn’t alarm him at all. He came here with the intention of drawing her out from whatever part of his mind was slowly unraveling, losing its grasp on reality, and it had worked.
“You’re too slow,” Kara said with the sound of mock frustration, the smile on her lips giving her away.
“Sometimes it’s good to go slow,” Lee suggested, though it was apparent he didn’t entirely mean the piano.
“Mmhmm, sometimes,” she nodded with a bite to her lower lip. That single action always had the effect of making him melt. She leaned into him, her hand perched on his shoulder as she whispered. “But you don’t want to be boring, Lee.”
He laughed to himself, cheeks flushing lightly with the blood that came to the surface of his skin. “Everything’s boring to you.”
She shook her head, her hand reaching to the keyboard to play the same part his right hand played, just an octave higher. Their fingers stroked over the keys in unison and Lee watched, eyes following. It was like their flying all over again, always able to read the other person entirely. Or maybe it was just because she was a figment of his imagination. That also could have been it.
“I’m proud of you,” Kara said and at just the bounds of his peripheral vision, Lee could see the long strands of her hair hanging down around her face, shielding most of her from him. “You know I hate Baltar as much as you do, maybe more, but he deserves the trial.”
There was something off about her. Maybe his brain was making her too gentle, but also maybe this was the person Kara really was, when unhindered with every emotional burden that weighed her down and churned her out into the abrasive person she’d grown into. He’d seen glimpses of this girl, of just Kara, and as much as he loved the brash woman she was, it saddened him so much to know the amount of pain she’d felt in her life. The things that had happened to make her turn out that way.
“Are you going to stay and help Lampkin?”
Her question had the effect of ruining the moment for him, because he knew there was no way she would have really known the lawyer now representing Baltar. She had died long before he was brought into the picture.
“I don’t know,” Lee said anyway, continuing the charade. “My father still hasn’t offered me CAG back now that we found out Kelly was responsible for all the attacks.”
“Do you even want to be CAG? Or do you just feel like staying with it because of me?”
Lee’s hands stopped on the piano and Kara’s paused as well. “It’s the last way I have to be close to you.”
Her head shook fervently, twisting her body slightly so she aimed in at him. “Lee, Lee, Lee.” Kara’s hands cupped his cheeks and he looked into her eyes. The detail he saw there was alarming, he would have sworn she was real. “I’ll always be with you.” Even the coating of tears over her eyes was believable enough. “Be the man you want to be, whoever he is.”
Lee was about to respond to her when another voice resounded in his ears.
“Apollo, man, you okay?”
His eyes looked up to see Sam standing nearby. He didn’t respond at first, merely blinking rapidly a few times, his eyes glancing around as if to find Kara hiding somewhere. She was gone. “Fine.”
Sam didn’t look as if he believed it, but he let it go, knowing the familiar pain both of them shared. They shared Kara in life, now they also shared her in death. “I was working nearby on the deck when I heard the piano. That song you were playing, Kara taught it to you, right?”
It took a moment for Lee to process the question. He fetched his glass off the piano top and finished what was left before replacing it. “Why?”
“Where’s it from?”
Lee’s shoulders shrugged. “She told me her dad wrote it and taught it to her when she was growing up. They used to play it together.”
“So you’re sure it wasn’t some hit from twenty years back or something?”
His forehead creased as Sam spoke. “I didn’t hear it until Kara, but I guess I could just have missed it.”
“No, I’m sure you’re right. It just seems… like deja vu.” Sam backed off from the piano and headed towards the exit.
“Admiral give you back your wings yet?” Lee shouted from across the room.
“Tomorrow,” Sam said and disappeared.
-
Lee took the rest of the day off, a luxury afforded to him since he was stuck in the in between. Without accepting the offer from Romo Lampkin, the Captain was truly assigned to nothing. Since the incident with Leoben, his only duty had been the protection of the lawyer, the terms of which had expired upon Kelly’s arrest. Lee simply allowed himself to slip through the cracks of the system for the time being, although having complete freedom was somewhat daunting after having the majority of his life planned out before him. The closest he had ever gotten to a similar situation in recent years had been his time on New Caprica, but even then he had been bogged down with the amount of work that needed to be done. Had Kara been alive, he had no doubt who he would have spent his free time with. The lure of downtime no longer had much of the appeal it once had.
He laid in the billet still reserved under her name. Though he was sure someone had made note of the very valuable quarters being empty once her name came up as deceased, either no one had the nerve to report it, or his father still exercised his power of authority in keeping it free. Someone could have come in at any moment with their belongings and family in tow, ready to move in, but Lee sincerely doubted it would happen. On the slim chance it did, he already made the vow to himself that he would refuse to leave. Mathias would have to drag him out personally before he’d even think about abandoning the space that had unquestionably been ‘theirs.’
Most of the room remained untouched since her passing, the few items they both had brought to the room over time still in the places they’d been. He could look at any item around him and recite who placed it there and when. Most of the things had been Kara’s and their presence was bittersweet. Lee no longer kept the illusion up that he and Kara had maintained throughout their short lived relationship, where they both returned to their bunks at night to sleep as to not rouse suspicion. His bunk was more often empty than not these days, with him either crawling into the double bed in these quarters, or sleeping in Kara’s still empty rack. He’d heard through the grapevine that a younger pilot had tried to move in and claim Kara’s bed for himself, but he had been assuredly thrown out by the other more senior pilots. The news of it had made him thankful for the people he called friends. Time was passing though, and Lee knew within the next few days he would have to clear out her things, perhaps even his, if he could convince his father to let him make Kara’s billet his. It would be a stretch, he knew, but maybe the Old Man would show that soft side for him once again.
After sleeping away most of the afternoon, Lee returned to the path towards his father’s quarters, having made his decision. Part of the way there, he heard the rare sound of a child’s laughter and soon spotted the origin of it. Hera Agathon, all of a couple years old, ran down the long straight shot of hallway and towards him. Far behind was Athena, chasing the little girl with a smile on her face. They hadn’t been reunited for that long, but for the mother and daughter, it seemed as if no time had passed since their separation upon her birth.
“Apollo!” Athena yelled as she ran. “Mind helping out?”
Just as Hera was about to pass him, Lee scooped the girl up in his arms, her giggling only growing louder when she knew she’d been caught. Though he had never been around children much in his life, especially ones so young, the weight of her felt familiar as he held her to his hip.
When Athena finally caught up she nodded in thanks. “I’m not sure how a two year old can be faster than me,” she said with a smile, her hand reaching out to brush through her daughter’s messy curls. “Did you say hello to Apollo, Hera?”
Despite being in his arms, she suddenly took on an air of shyness, hiding her face into his upper arm and shoulder. “Hi,” her quiet voice offered.
It brought a smile to him, as it would have done to anyone. “Did you have dinner yet?” Lee tried his best to interest the child, posing a simple question.
She nodded her head, hair bouncing along with her movements.
“Was it gross?”
The little girl laughed and nodded with much more enthusiasm this time around, her face contorting into something of disgust to illustrate her point. She’d never experienced real food as he had back when he was a child, but even she knew their algae inspired dishes weren’t exactly pleasing to the palate.
It elicited Lee’s own matching laugh and for that moment, everything else fell to the background. Hera had that effect on most people.
“Back to your mom,” Lee said before handing her over to the small woman’s waiting arms. Hera seemed a hint more comfortable there, but kept her focus on Lee, her curiosity getting the better of her. “She’s gotten so big.” He tried not to think of the daughter or son he would have had, and how much older they would be compared to the child in front of him.
“Tell me about it, heavy too.” Athena smiled wide and kissed Hera on the forehead. “I think you’ve got an admirer, Apollo.”
Lee’s cheeks even blushed at the notion that a two year old could be enamored with him. It was ludicrous, all of it, but Hera’s small smile told him it was true. “I’m way too old for you, Hera, but you should keep your eye on Nicky Tyrol.” Both of the adults smiled though the toddler seemed disinterested in the suggestion, if she even comprehended it.
Athena rubbed her daughter’s back. “She misses Starbuck,” she finally let out and watched as Apollo’s face lost the merriment it had only a second before. “Hera doesn’t really understand death right now. Every day we remind her she’s gone and every morning she asks if she’s coming to play.” It seemed to trouble the woman a great deal, even Lee felt for her, since Athena and Kara had become good friends after New Caprica.
“Did she come to see Hera a lot?” It was something Kara had never mentioned to him, at least not directly. Sometimes their nights together would be peppered with talk of the people on the ship, with Hera coming up occasionally.
Beside him, Athena’s head turned to regard him. “She used to come everyday. You should’ve seen them together, Apollo, they both had this effect on each other. The only time I saw Kara as happy was when she talked about you.”
Apollo took in what Athena was suggesting to be fact. As much time as they’d spent together, he couldn’t believe he had somehow not accounted for a time when she was disappearing to be with the young girl. He now longed to see the two of them playing side by side, their equally split laughter echoing around them. For a rare moment, Kara would have just been free. The news that Kara hadn’t been keeping her relationship as secret as she had insisted they do also warmed him. She had trusted the information with the friendship she had in Athena.
“I miss Kara too,” he said simply to Hera, lightly touching her chubby cheek. Hera said nothing, but he knew she understood.
“Hera, Apollo was Starbuck’s best friend,” Athena added in, watching her daughter’s face for recognition.
“Maybe I can stop by and we can talk all about her,” he said with a hopeful tone of voice. Though Hera wasn’t exactly up to the stage of telling fully coherent stories, any glimpse of the woman he loved through the little girl’s eyes would have been enough.
“She’d love that, right Hera?” Her mother prompted her, but she didn’t need the cue, her head already bobbing up and down while her fingers gripped into the fabric of her mother’s shirt.
“Me too.”
They parted ways at the next intersection, Athena and Hera heading back towards their quarters or perhaps daycare, while Lee continued on towards his father.
-
“I don’t trust you to go back out there yet,” Bill said from his desk. Before him was the model ship, still in pieces, though he had recently begun the delicate repair work. His focus was kept on the ship as he spoke.
Lee sat across from him, in one of the small seats reserved for guests in front of the desk. “Neither do I,” he admitted, although it was rather difficult for him to actually get the words out. He’d spent the last weeks feeding his grief and his anger. Even that very morning, he’d woke up feeling much of the same. What had turned his day around had been what Kara said to him in the bar, or what he had at least imagined she said to him. She was his mind simply playing tricks on him, a way for his subconscious to help him make decisions and a way for him to manage to cope with how quickly things had changed. “You know, Lampkin asked me to help him with Baltar’s trial.”
Adama’s eyes left the ship to look to his son. “You’d actually consider helping Baltar?”
His son shrugged his shoulders, posture leaving much to be desired. “You were the one who gave me your father’s books,” he pointed out. “I feel useless right now. I was a pilot and now I can’t do that. I’m not trained for much else.”
“No one is these days.” Bill relaxed into the back of his chair, reflecting Lee’s at ease form. The incident with Lee and Leoben had been the height of his son’s madness, and though they had remained sore at one another for the days following, time had begun to heal the wounds. Both were cognizant of how much they needed one another, especially since now they truly were all they had left. “Are you going to take it?” The thought of his son representing such scum like the former President made him feel physically ill, but he knew ordering his son to stay out of it would only work to push him further towards it.
Lee hesitated at first, suddenly unsure of his decision. “No.”
His father let out a sigh. Truthfully, Bill wasn’t sure if he was relieved or afraid. On one hand, it meant his son wasn’t going to defend the most hated person in the entire fleet who had, in one way or another, caused the death of thousands. On the other hand, it meant Lee wouldn’t have the distraction he perhaps needed most.
“Roslin offered me something else,” he said, noting his father’s confused expression. Lee had been suspicious of the President’s intentions, wondering if the Admiral had put her up to it, but he knew the truth now. “It’s a lot like what I did back on New Caprica. Working with the civilians, hearing what they have to say, and trying to find a resolution without letting things escalate up.”
This time, Bill’s sigh was one of relief. He wasn’t happy about how much it meant his son would be away from Galactica, but it was something. Though he didn’t think it possible, Laura had surprised him once again. “What about after? Is this permanent, Lee?”
“Would there be a place for me if I came back?”
“Always.”
-
As the weeks passed, Lee saw Kara less and less. At night, like clockwork, she would be in his dreams. Sometimes they frakked, other times they fought. On occasion, they simply just talked, and Lee always confessed every secret he kept and had never gotten to tell her before. It was cathartic for him, even if in the morning he woke knowing Kara had gone to her grave without hearing any of it at all. Her day time appearances came to a stop almost altogether, and though he was sad to see her go and still checked behind him in every mirror for her, Lee knew it meant that the part of his mind hurt most by her death was slowly starting to heal itself. He could heal, he told himself, but he wouldn’t forget.
Lee’s time was split around the fleet, and though he didn’t wear his uniform when talking to civilians, he still spent his nights on Galactica. His bunk belonged to someone else now, as did Kara’s that had been across from his own, while Lee called the billet home. When finally faced with the deadline to remove her things from where they’d been kept, it had taken him hours to finally collect it all, box it, and bring it back to the quarters that were now his. No one, at least not to his face, had questioned why he should get the quarters to himself while they were to remain in their racks. His father had justified it, not that he needed to, by saying that as Lee was no longer technically a pilot, he couldn’t very well stay where he had in the past.
Every day of the week, Lee was on a different ship, listening to the more severe complaints from the civilians. Many of them remembered him from the help he’d given them on New Caprica and while he wasn’t able to help them all, or even the majority of them, he knew that anything he could do for even a few citizens was enough to make it worth it. He was in a unique position, having been sent by the President and the Quorom, but also having his military background. He wasn’t a politician and didn’t see everything in the same polarizing way they tended to. Lee never made the empty promises like they did and he came through in the end when it was needed most.
Sometimes when he met with a civilian, they asked him about Kara. It was obvious after his few few days out that word of his rumored relationship with the former Commander wasn’t just isolated to Galactica. Though it had made him uncomfortable the few first times it happened, Lee had grown used to it and looked forward to getting to talk about her with people who didn’t know much about the elusive Kara Thrace. With their lives only a shadow of what they had been back in the Twelve Colonies, it didn’t surprise him to know the people clung to some details about those that they didn’t know. Roslin and Adama were practically Gods to the fleet, and Kara was added in after all she’d done for the people during the exodus. The kind words about her from complete strangers made him realize just how widespread her loss was felt.
From the front row in the makeshift court, Lee sat on one side of Roslin, watching the team of ship captains file back in with the verdict they’d debated on for the last few hours. His father was one of them and Lee tried to read his face for something that would give away what was coming. He hadn’t, unfortunately, been able to make it out to any of the other days of the trial, but had heard plenty about it on the wireless and from the President. Lee kept his own opinion on the matter to himself, knowing his feelings of Baltar’s innocence was an unpopular idea to begin broadcasting around. Though Lee had been on that planet, and endured alongside all the rest, his anger over the three months during the occupation had faded long ago. Maybe he was at peace with it all, but he understood that some others would never be. Whatever the tribunal decided, it would stand.
“Gaius Baltar, after carefully weighing the evidence, this tribunal on a vote of 3 to 2 finds you guilty. We sentence you to death by firing squad.”
The crowd around him rang out, most in celebration over the verdict, while a small number expressed their outrage just as loudly. Some of the rowdier members rushed to take out their joy on Baltar in the form of his flesh, but the marines on guard quickly dragged the man off, presumably to prepare him to die.
-
Lee returned to his quarters afterward, pulling to loosen the tie around his throat. He had the sinking feeling that perhaps he had made the wrong choice when choosing not to work with Lampkin. Though his knowledge of the law was limited at best, he was certain his presence could have helped turn things around. He did understand the feelings of all the others that called for Baltar’s blood, but that didn’t make him feel any better about it now, once the decision had been made. Baltar was an idiot, scum of the earth, even, but had he been directly responsible? Lee wasn’t sure.
Comfort came to him through the sound of the small music player as he laid down across the bed made for two, his suit jacket and shoes abandoned on the other side of the room. Putting on Dreilide Thrace’s Live at the Helice Opera House became his new nighttime routine. His eyes shut as he listened to the now familiar blend of notes, hoping that when sleep finally took him, Kara would be waiting on the other side.
Just as he felt himself drift in towards slumber he was startled awake by the sudden absence of the music that was coaxing him under. He opened his eyes, chest already pounding with the implications as he caught the flickering of the overhead lights just before they shutdown completely. It could have just been equipment malfunction somewhere inside the ship, but Lee knew better. Where there was smoke, there was fire. Before he even understood what was happening, his feet were on the floor as he groped his way towards the closet, reaching in to feel for the flashlight he knew he’d seen there. He tried to turn it on and nothing happened, but a smack of it into the bulkhead seemed to right the connections and it came to life.
The small light was hardly sufficient to illuminate anything in the room and Lee stumbled over his own shoes on the way to the hatch door. He tugged it open, the emergency lights in the hallway helping to take him out of the darkness. Around him, crew ran with their own flashlights. Though he asked everyone that passed for any kind of information, there was none to give and it unsettled him completely. There normally at least would have been some kind of warning delivered to the entire ship, and the absence of it meant that even the auxiliary power was out. Just as Lee was about to move down the hallway to head up to the CIC, the claxons sounded, loud and offensive. Tigh’s voice filtered in amongst the ringing. “Action stations, action stations. This is not a drill.”
Without a second thought, Lee returned to his quarters, stripping down with a speed he hadn’t seen since the first months after the cylon attacks. He tugged his flight suit out of the closet, his flashlight left on and abandoned on the floor now that power had returned to some degree. Lee grabbed his helmet and hit the ground running for where he knew he would be needed most.
When he arrived, the deck was in pure chaos, ships being towed into launch tubes while pre-flight checklists were forgotten in the emergency situation. Despite the energy around him, he paused, recalling the last time he’d been here in that very flight suit. It had been two months since he last donned it, spending the time first in Lee’s locker in the bunk room and then the slightly more spacious closet of the private quarters. He could have stayed like that for an hour, thinking back to the all consuming grief he’d felt at having just left Kara behind, but another pilot bumped into him as they ran for their own ship, helmet already being pulled on. It gave Lee the nudge back into reality he needed, and he too ran down to the far end of the deck where his Viper had been last seen months ago, just as neglected as his flight suit.
An available deck hand brought it to the launch tube for him and Lee climbed in, pulling the metal collar and helmet on. It felt claustrophobic to him to be back within it’s confines, his chest already pounding at the anxiety it reintroduced into his life. The rest of his body flew on autopilot, powering up the Mark VII once the doors closed behind him. He raised his hand, giving a thumbs up to the member of the crew that operated his tube, and it was only a second later that Captain Lee Adama finally met space once again.
-
“Admiral,” Helo said from where he stood. “Apollo’s in Viper 3.”
Despite the situation they were already in, his face was stricken with Karl’s words. They did need every pilot out there if the fleet were to have a fighting chance at all, but the thought of his son heeding the call scared him far more than everything else. Apollo was without question the best pilot they had since Starbuck’s demise, but as his father, Bill knew Lee still walked a fine line of being stable enough to get into his own ship without a death wish. He wanted to call his son back, everything else be damned, but as his eyes locked with the position of Viper 3 on the DRADIS screen above him, he knew it was too late to bring him in. Even if he gave the order, he knew his son would never obey it. All he could do was hope he didn’t take the opportunity to greet himself an early death.
-
Though the Raiders had yet to meet the fleet, Lee’s DRADIS screen was speckled with the other colonial Vipers and SAR Raptors on their way to the fight. With the feel of the stick in his grasp, he wasn’t sure how he had avoided getting into his bird over the last two months. Here, he felt closer to Kara than anywhere else, perhaps even more so than the bed that they had once upon a time shared. His eyes were on the spread of black space before him and only the alarm of a nearby unknown ship brought him back.
“Galactica, Apollo. I have a bogey at my ten, I’m gonna go check it out.” Nerves coiled inside his stomach at being faced with what was most certainly a cylon Raider that had jumped ahead of the rest of the ships. He pulled on the stick in his hand and his ship veered to the left, leaving the rest of the group behind. He looked around through the canopy of his cockpit, trying to catch sight of the ship that had dropped off his DRADIS. More than likely it was jumping in and out, but he still felt the prickle of goosebumps spread over his flushed skin as he tried to track it down.
“Where’d he go, where the frak did you go!?”
He continued to speed ahead, weaving his ship in and out occasionally so he wasn’t such a sitting target as he flew alone and practically blind. Another ship sped overhead of his own, coming dangerously close. “What the frak!” Lee’s heart nearly stopped, catching only a glimpse of a portion of the metallic object. Raiders were usually rather daring, but they didn’t often play chicken like this.
Lee made move to press his finger over the comm switch to call back to Galactica and report on his findings, or lack thereof, when he spied something all too familiar out of the corner of his eye. Holding the throttle steady, his head turned to his left, finding Kara beside him. Though he welcomed the sight of her, he couldn’t help but wonder about her terrible timing. He hadn’t seen her like this in weeks now, but it made sense he would relapse when once again put behind the controls of his Viper. He hadn’t told anyone about seeing her because he didn’t want them to think he was losing his mind, although now faced with this vision, even Apollo had to admit at that moment he had to be closer to unraveling than ever.
“Hi Lee.”
“Am I dead?” Lee asked, seriously considering the notion that he had already met his fate in the battle and she was there to greet him home.
“What?” Her expression changed instantly, horrified at his suggestion. “Why would you say that?”
“You’re here,” Lee said, forgetting he had left the line open.
Kara softened before his very eyes. “I’m sorry I disappeared, Lee… but I’ve been to Earth. I know where it is. I’m going to take us there.”
His Viper continued to run parallel to hers as he watched across at her, reminded of all those nights in the bunk room when they’d stared at each other just like this from their respective beds. “I know you’re not real, Kara,” he said with much regret. “I’m dreaming you so you’re just saying everything I want to hear.”
“Lee! What the frak are you talking about? Didn’t you hear me? I’ve been to Earth!”
She was more abrasive than the one his memory usually cooked up, but he paid it no mind. Maybe he was just getting better at perfecting his versions of her. “No,” he shook his head. “I saw your ship explode, I watched you die. You’re not real.” His eyes shut tightly for a few seconds, looking back over to her when they opened. This trick usually forced her manifestations to disappear, as if he was refocusing himself. Kara was still there. Tears welled up in his eyes and anger poured through him because the last thing he needed right now was to see her and to be distracted by something that couldn’t even be real.
“I don’t know what you saw, but I’m right here. I swear to the Gods,” Kara pleaded with him, suddenly unsure of herself when faced with the rejection he delivered. “Lee.” She called out, her voice loud, until he locked eyes with her. “It was beautiful, just like we talked about it. Big blue oceans, fluffy white clouds.” She watched him with tears pooling in her eyes. “You’re going to love it. I promise.”
Lee surrendered to her then. If she was leading him to his death, he would follow her right in. This time, he wouldn’t be alone in the end.
His father’s voice rang in his ear, deafening compared to the gentle sound Kara had used with him.
“Apollo, it’s a trick. Whatever you’re seeing it’s a trick.”
The blood drained from his face at his father’s words. He tried to keep his bird steady but his hands shook, feeling the loss of control over himself at the implications of what his father said. “You can hear her?”
“It isn’t Starbuck, Lee, you know she’s dead.”
His eyes looked back to Kara and her expression read of hurt and betrayal at what the Old Man was saying about her. For Lee, this glance to his left was far unlike all the ones he’d made in the last few minutes. Now she wasn’t just a vision, now Kara was absolutely real. He could choose to believe it if he wanted to.
“Tell me something I don’t know about you, something I would never know.”
Whatever Kara thought of his request, she didn’t verbalize her questions. She didn’t even have to think about what she would tell him, the words just came out. “When you were on New Caprica, I used to polish my shoes every week, thinking about you sitting at your rack doing yours during those first few months.” Kara paused. “And when we had to leave you behind, I’d pray to the Gods when I did it, asking them to take care of you for me.”
He had no way of verifying it, at least not from his cockpit, but he was certain it had never been anything she had shared with him or even hinted at. If his mind was making this up, his psychosis had reached new and impressive levels.
“I’ll tell you everything later. Don’t lose me, Lee,” she said as her ship pulled away and his soon followed.
author:
apodixis
spoilers: Through all seasons, though this takes place in an AU starting at the very end of season 2.
pairings: kara/lee, kara/sam
overall fic rating: R/NC-17
word count: 6,067
notes: See http://apodixis.livejournal.com/685.html for more information.
summary: If God isn't leading the fleet to Earth, can they ever find it?
Mid-morning in Joe’s Bar left the place expectedly abandoned. It was the one time of day when things on the ship tended to be subdued and everyone at least pretended to be going about their own business and work. After lunch rolled around and everyone’s bellies were stuffed with the algae based meal, it would slowly begin to fill up as people passed in and out. The population would peak just after dinner as everyone tended to wind down, at least those who weren’t on shift. A steady crowd often existed through the middle of the night with those with the worst habits staying on at the bar until morning. By now, even those with dependency problems had gone to their racks or their jobs, leaving Lee alone with the barkeep.
Whiskey, or what passed for it these days, was his drink of choice, his glass resting on the top of the low backed piano he’d last sat at in happier times. Every now and again someone would sit down and tap out a few notes, perhaps even a tune they remembered, but this had been the first time Lee had the guts to approach the bench that he had shared alongside Kara. After that first night when he presented her with the gift to the bar, though he knew it was really for her, they’d returned every day at irregular intervals to further commit to his memory what she remembered as it came back to her. His piano skills were even rustier than hers had been, but she kept a surprising amount of patience with him.
His left hand pressed three fingers into the shape of the first chord, right hand assuming the part Kara had once played further down the keyboard. The song didn’t sound right without her, and not just because an entire hand’s worth of notes were missing from the melody. This song had been meant for two people, her father had written it that way, and something about it just screamed of all things Kara Thrace. It was like her soul was put to music, capturing all that she was, even though she’d only been a child when she first learned it from the man that gave her half of her life.
He played it at a slower rhythm than it was intended to get the hang of the pattern, as well as let himself enjoy it for as long as possible. With a crowd around, a bit of self-conscious anxiety would have built up inside of him, but with only the bartender for company, he paid it no mind. His eyes shut, imagining Kara’s fingers pressing over his own as she had the first night, guiding him appropriately. When he reopened them, she was beside him, and like the tens of times he’d seen her over the weeks since her death, it didn’t alarm him at all. He came here with the intention of drawing her out from whatever part of his mind was slowly unraveling, losing its grasp on reality, and it had worked.
“You’re too slow,” Kara said with the sound of mock frustration, the smile on her lips giving her away.
“Sometimes it’s good to go slow,” Lee suggested, though it was apparent he didn’t entirely mean the piano.
“Mmhmm, sometimes,” she nodded with a bite to her lower lip. That single action always had the effect of making him melt. She leaned into him, her hand perched on his shoulder as she whispered. “But you don’t want to be boring, Lee.”
He laughed to himself, cheeks flushing lightly with the blood that came to the surface of his skin. “Everything’s boring to you.”
She shook her head, her hand reaching to the keyboard to play the same part his right hand played, just an octave higher. Their fingers stroked over the keys in unison and Lee watched, eyes following. It was like their flying all over again, always able to read the other person entirely. Or maybe it was just because she was a figment of his imagination. That also could have been it.
“I’m proud of you,” Kara said and at just the bounds of his peripheral vision, Lee could see the long strands of her hair hanging down around her face, shielding most of her from him. “You know I hate Baltar as much as you do, maybe more, but he deserves the trial.”
There was something off about her. Maybe his brain was making her too gentle, but also maybe this was the person Kara really was, when unhindered with every emotional burden that weighed her down and churned her out into the abrasive person she’d grown into. He’d seen glimpses of this girl, of just Kara, and as much as he loved the brash woman she was, it saddened him so much to know the amount of pain she’d felt in her life. The things that had happened to make her turn out that way.
“Are you going to stay and help Lampkin?”
Her question had the effect of ruining the moment for him, because he knew there was no way she would have really known the lawyer now representing Baltar. She had died long before he was brought into the picture.
“I don’t know,” Lee said anyway, continuing the charade. “My father still hasn’t offered me CAG back now that we found out Kelly was responsible for all the attacks.”
“Do you even want to be CAG? Or do you just feel like staying with it because of me?”
Lee’s hands stopped on the piano and Kara’s paused as well. “It’s the last way I have to be close to you.”
Her head shook fervently, twisting her body slightly so she aimed in at him. “Lee, Lee, Lee.” Kara’s hands cupped his cheeks and he looked into her eyes. The detail he saw there was alarming, he would have sworn she was real. “I’ll always be with you.” Even the coating of tears over her eyes was believable enough. “Be the man you want to be, whoever he is.”
Lee was about to respond to her when another voice resounded in his ears.
“Apollo, man, you okay?”
His eyes looked up to see Sam standing nearby. He didn’t respond at first, merely blinking rapidly a few times, his eyes glancing around as if to find Kara hiding somewhere. She was gone. “Fine.”
Sam didn’t look as if he believed it, but he let it go, knowing the familiar pain both of them shared. They shared Kara in life, now they also shared her in death. “I was working nearby on the deck when I heard the piano. That song you were playing, Kara taught it to you, right?”
It took a moment for Lee to process the question. He fetched his glass off the piano top and finished what was left before replacing it. “Why?”
“Where’s it from?”
Lee’s shoulders shrugged. “She told me her dad wrote it and taught it to her when she was growing up. They used to play it together.”
“So you’re sure it wasn’t some hit from twenty years back or something?”
His forehead creased as Sam spoke. “I didn’t hear it until Kara, but I guess I could just have missed it.”
“No, I’m sure you’re right. It just seems… like deja vu.” Sam backed off from the piano and headed towards the exit.
“Admiral give you back your wings yet?” Lee shouted from across the room.
“Tomorrow,” Sam said and disappeared.
-
Lee took the rest of the day off, a luxury afforded to him since he was stuck in the in between. Without accepting the offer from Romo Lampkin, the Captain was truly assigned to nothing. Since the incident with Leoben, his only duty had been the protection of the lawyer, the terms of which had expired upon Kelly’s arrest. Lee simply allowed himself to slip through the cracks of the system for the time being, although having complete freedom was somewhat daunting after having the majority of his life planned out before him. The closest he had ever gotten to a similar situation in recent years had been his time on New Caprica, but even then he had been bogged down with the amount of work that needed to be done. Had Kara been alive, he had no doubt who he would have spent his free time with. The lure of downtime no longer had much of the appeal it once had.
He laid in the billet still reserved under her name. Though he was sure someone had made note of the very valuable quarters being empty once her name came up as deceased, either no one had the nerve to report it, or his father still exercised his power of authority in keeping it free. Someone could have come in at any moment with their belongings and family in tow, ready to move in, but Lee sincerely doubted it would happen. On the slim chance it did, he already made the vow to himself that he would refuse to leave. Mathias would have to drag him out personally before he’d even think about abandoning the space that had unquestionably been ‘theirs.’
Most of the room remained untouched since her passing, the few items they both had brought to the room over time still in the places they’d been. He could look at any item around him and recite who placed it there and when. Most of the things had been Kara’s and their presence was bittersweet. Lee no longer kept the illusion up that he and Kara had maintained throughout their short lived relationship, where they both returned to their bunks at night to sleep as to not rouse suspicion. His bunk was more often empty than not these days, with him either crawling into the double bed in these quarters, or sleeping in Kara’s still empty rack. He’d heard through the grapevine that a younger pilot had tried to move in and claim Kara’s bed for himself, but he had been assuredly thrown out by the other more senior pilots. The news of it had made him thankful for the people he called friends. Time was passing though, and Lee knew within the next few days he would have to clear out her things, perhaps even his, if he could convince his father to let him make Kara’s billet his. It would be a stretch, he knew, but maybe the Old Man would show that soft side for him once again.
After sleeping away most of the afternoon, Lee returned to the path towards his father’s quarters, having made his decision. Part of the way there, he heard the rare sound of a child’s laughter and soon spotted the origin of it. Hera Agathon, all of a couple years old, ran down the long straight shot of hallway and towards him. Far behind was Athena, chasing the little girl with a smile on her face. They hadn’t been reunited for that long, but for the mother and daughter, it seemed as if no time had passed since their separation upon her birth.
“Apollo!” Athena yelled as she ran. “Mind helping out?”
Just as Hera was about to pass him, Lee scooped the girl up in his arms, her giggling only growing louder when she knew she’d been caught. Though he had never been around children much in his life, especially ones so young, the weight of her felt familiar as he held her to his hip.
When Athena finally caught up she nodded in thanks. “I’m not sure how a two year old can be faster than me,” she said with a smile, her hand reaching out to brush through her daughter’s messy curls. “Did you say hello to Apollo, Hera?”
Despite being in his arms, she suddenly took on an air of shyness, hiding her face into his upper arm and shoulder. “Hi,” her quiet voice offered.
It brought a smile to him, as it would have done to anyone. “Did you have dinner yet?” Lee tried his best to interest the child, posing a simple question.
She nodded her head, hair bouncing along with her movements.
“Was it gross?”
The little girl laughed and nodded with much more enthusiasm this time around, her face contorting into something of disgust to illustrate her point. She’d never experienced real food as he had back when he was a child, but even she knew their algae inspired dishes weren’t exactly pleasing to the palate.
It elicited Lee’s own matching laugh and for that moment, everything else fell to the background. Hera had that effect on most people.
“Back to your mom,” Lee said before handing her over to the small woman’s waiting arms. Hera seemed a hint more comfortable there, but kept her focus on Lee, her curiosity getting the better of her. “She’s gotten so big.” He tried not to think of the daughter or son he would have had, and how much older they would be compared to the child in front of him.
“Tell me about it, heavy too.” Athena smiled wide and kissed Hera on the forehead. “I think you’ve got an admirer, Apollo.”
Lee’s cheeks even blushed at the notion that a two year old could be enamored with him. It was ludicrous, all of it, but Hera’s small smile told him it was true. “I’m way too old for you, Hera, but you should keep your eye on Nicky Tyrol.” Both of the adults smiled though the toddler seemed disinterested in the suggestion, if she even comprehended it.
Athena rubbed her daughter’s back. “She misses Starbuck,” she finally let out and watched as Apollo’s face lost the merriment it had only a second before. “Hera doesn’t really understand death right now. Every day we remind her she’s gone and every morning she asks if she’s coming to play.” It seemed to trouble the woman a great deal, even Lee felt for her, since Athena and Kara had become good friends after New Caprica.
“Did she come to see Hera a lot?” It was something Kara had never mentioned to him, at least not directly. Sometimes their nights together would be peppered with talk of the people on the ship, with Hera coming up occasionally.
Beside him, Athena’s head turned to regard him. “She used to come everyday. You should’ve seen them together, Apollo, they both had this effect on each other. The only time I saw Kara as happy was when she talked about you.”
Apollo took in what Athena was suggesting to be fact. As much time as they’d spent together, he couldn’t believe he had somehow not accounted for a time when she was disappearing to be with the young girl. He now longed to see the two of them playing side by side, their equally split laughter echoing around them. For a rare moment, Kara would have just been free. The news that Kara hadn’t been keeping her relationship as secret as she had insisted they do also warmed him. She had trusted the information with the friendship she had in Athena.
“I miss Kara too,” he said simply to Hera, lightly touching her chubby cheek. Hera said nothing, but he knew she understood.
“Hera, Apollo was Starbuck’s best friend,” Athena added in, watching her daughter’s face for recognition.
“Maybe I can stop by and we can talk all about her,” he said with a hopeful tone of voice. Though Hera wasn’t exactly up to the stage of telling fully coherent stories, any glimpse of the woman he loved through the little girl’s eyes would have been enough.
“She’d love that, right Hera?” Her mother prompted her, but she didn’t need the cue, her head already bobbing up and down while her fingers gripped into the fabric of her mother’s shirt.
“Me too.”
They parted ways at the next intersection, Athena and Hera heading back towards their quarters or perhaps daycare, while Lee continued on towards his father.
-
“I don’t trust you to go back out there yet,” Bill said from his desk. Before him was the model ship, still in pieces, though he had recently begun the delicate repair work. His focus was kept on the ship as he spoke.
Lee sat across from him, in one of the small seats reserved for guests in front of the desk. “Neither do I,” he admitted, although it was rather difficult for him to actually get the words out. He’d spent the last weeks feeding his grief and his anger. Even that very morning, he’d woke up feeling much of the same. What had turned his day around had been what Kara said to him in the bar, or what he had at least imagined she said to him. She was his mind simply playing tricks on him, a way for his subconscious to help him make decisions and a way for him to manage to cope with how quickly things had changed. “You know, Lampkin asked me to help him with Baltar’s trial.”
Adama’s eyes left the ship to look to his son. “You’d actually consider helping Baltar?”
His son shrugged his shoulders, posture leaving much to be desired. “You were the one who gave me your father’s books,” he pointed out. “I feel useless right now. I was a pilot and now I can’t do that. I’m not trained for much else.”
“No one is these days.” Bill relaxed into the back of his chair, reflecting Lee’s at ease form. The incident with Lee and Leoben had been the height of his son’s madness, and though they had remained sore at one another for the days following, time had begun to heal the wounds. Both were cognizant of how much they needed one another, especially since now they truly were all they had left. “Are you going to take it?” The thought of his son representing such scum like the former President made him feel physically ill, but he knew ordering his son to stay out of it would only work to push him further towards it.
Lee hesitated at first, suddenly unsure of his decision. “No.”
His father let out a sigh. Truthfully, Bill wasn’t sure if he was relieved or afraid. On one hand, it meant his son wasn’t going to defend the most hated person in the entire fleet who had, in one way or another, caused the death of thousands. On the other hand, it meant Lee wouldn’t have the distraction he perhaps needed most.
“Roslin offered me something else,” he said, noting his father’s confused expression. Lee had been suspicious of the President’s intentions, wondering if the Admiral had put her up to it, but he knew the truth now. “It’s a lot like what I did back on New Caprica. Working with the civilians, hearing what they have to say, and trying to find a resolution without letting things escalate up.”
This time, Bill’s sigh was one of relief. He wasn’t happy about how much it meant his son would be away from Galactica, but it was something. Though he didn’t think it possible, Laura had surprised him once again. “What about after? Is this permanent, Lee?”
“Would there be a place for me if I came back?”
“Always.”
-
As the weeks passed, Lee saw Kara less and less. At night, like clockwork, she would be in his dreams. Sometimes they frakked, other times they fought. On occasion, they simply just talked, and Lee always confessed every secret he kept and had never gotten to tell her before. It was cathartic for him, even if in the morning he woke knowing Kara had gone to her grave without hearing any of it at all. Her day time appearances came to a stop almost altogether, and though he was sad to see her go and still checked behind him in every mirror for her, Lee knew it meant that the part of his mind hurt most by her death was slowly starting to heal itself. He could heal, he told himself, but he wouldn’t forget.
Lee’s time was split around the fleet, and though he didn’t wear his uniform when talking to civilians, he still spent his nights on Galactica. His bunk belonged to someone else now, as did Kara’s that had been across from his own, while Lee called the billet home. When finally faced with the deadline to remove her things from where they’d been kept, it had taken him hours to finally collect it all, box it, and bring it back to the quarters that were now his. No one, at least not to his face, had questioned why he should get the quarters to himself while they were to remain in their racks. His father had justified it, not that he needed to, by saying that as Lee was no longer technically a pilot, he couldn’t very well stay where he had in the past.
Every day of the week, Lee was on a different ship, listening to the more severe complaints from the civilians. Many of them remembered him from the help he’d given them on New Caprica and while he wasn’t able to help them all, or even the majority of them, he knew that anything he could do for even a few citizens was enough to make it worth it. He was in a unique position, having been sent by the President and the Quorom, but also having his military background. He wasn’t a politician and didn’t see everything in the same polarizing way they tended to. Lee never made the empty promises like they did and he came through in the end when it was needed most.
Sometimes when he met with a civilian, they asked him about Kara. It was obvious after his few few days out that word of his rumored relationship with the former Commander wasn’t just isolated to Galactica. Though it had made him uncomfortable the few first times it happened, Lee had grown used to it and looked forward to getting to talk about her with people who didn’t know much about the elusive Kara Thrace. With their lives only a shadow of what they had been back in the Twelve Colonies, it didn’t surprise him to know the people clung to some details about those that they didn’t know. Roslin and Adama were practically Gods to the fleet, and Kara was added in after all she’d done for the people during the exodus. The kind words about her from complete strangers made him realize just how widespread her loss was felt.
From the front row in the makeshift court, Lee sat on one side of Roslin, watching the team of ship captains file back in with the verdict they’d debated on for the last few hours. His father was one of them and Lee tried to read his face for something that would give away what was coming. He hadn’t, unfortunately, been able to make it out to any of the other days of the trial, but had heard plenty about it on the wireless and from the President. Lee kept his own opinion on the matter to himself, knowing his feelings of Baltar’s innocence was an unpopular idea to begin broadcasting around. Though Lee had been on that planet, and endured alongside all the rest, his anger over the three months during the occupation had faded long ago. Maybe he was at peace with it all, but he understood that some others would never be. Whatever the tribunal decided, it would stand.
“Gaius Baltar, after carefully weighing the evidence, this tribunal on a vote of 3 to 2 finds you guilty. We sentence you to death by firing squad.”
The crowd around him rang out, most in celebration over the verdict, while a small number expressed their outrage just as loudly. Some of the rowdier members rushed to take out their joy on Baltar in the form of his flesh, but the marines on guard quickly dragged the man off, presumably to prepare him to die.
-
Lee returned to his quarters afterward, pulling to loosen the tie around his throat. He had the sinking feeling that perhaps he had made the wrong choice when choosing not to work with Lampkin. Though his knowledge of the law was limited at best, he was certain his presence could have helped turn things around. He did understand the feelings of all the others that called for Baltar’s blood, but that didn’t make him feel any better about it now, once the decision had been made. Baltar was an idiot, scum of the earth, even, but had he been directly responsible? Lee wasn’t sure.
Comfort came to him through the sound of the small music player as he laid down across the bed made for two, his suit jacket and shoes abandoned on the other side of the room. Putting on Dreilide Thrace’s Live at the Helice Opera House became his new nighttime routine. His eyes shut as he listened to the now familiar blend of notes, hoping that when sleep finally took him, Kara would be waiting on the other side.
Just as he felt himself drift in towards slumber he was startled awake by the sudden absence of the music that was coaxing him under. He opened his eyes, chest already pounding with the implications as he caught the flickering of the overhead lights just before they shutdown completely. It could have just been equipment malfunction somewhere inside the ship, but Lee knew better. Where there was smoke, there was fire. Before he even understood what was happening, his feet were on the floor as he groped his way towards the closet, reaching in to feel for the flashlight he knew he’d seen there. He tried to turn it on and nothing happened, but a smack of it into the bulkhead seemed to right the connections and it came to life.
The small light was hardly sufficient to illuminate anything in the room and Lee stumbled over his own shoes on the way to the hatch door. He tugged it open, the emergency lights in the hallway helping to take him out of the darkness. Around him, crew ran with their own flashlights. Though he asked everyone that passed for any kind of information, there was none to give and it unsettled him completely. There normally at least would have been some kind of warning delivered to the entire ship, and the absence of it meant that even the auxiliary power was out. Just as Lee was about to move down the hallway to head up to the CIC, the claxons sounded, loud and offensive. Tigh’s voice filtered in amongst the ringing. “Action stations, action stations. This is not a drill.”
Without a second thought, Lee returned to his quarters, stripping down with a speed he hadn’t seen since the first months after the cylon attacks. He tugged his flight suit out of the closet, his flashlight left on and abandoned on the floor now that power had returned to some degree. Lee grabbed his helmet and hit the ground running for where he knew he would be needed most.
When he arrived, the deck was in pure chaos, ships being towed into launch tubes while pre-flight checklists were forgotten in the emergency situation. Despite the energy around him, he paused, recalling the last time he’d been here in that very flight suit. It had been two months since he last donned it, spending the time first in Lee’s locker in the bunk room and then the slightly more spacious closet of the private quarters. He could have stayed like that for an hour, thinking back to the all consuming grief he’d felt at having just left Kara behind, but another pilot bumped into him as they ran for their own ship, helmet already being pulled on. It gave Lee the nudge back into reality he needed, and he too ran down to the far end of the deck where his Viper had been last seen months ago, just as neglected as his flight suit.
An available deck hand brought it to the launch tube for him and Lee climbed in, pulling the metal collar and helmet on. It felt claustrophobic to him to be back within it’s confines, his chest already pounding at the anxiety it reintroduced into his life. The rest of his body flew on autopilot, powering up the Mark VII once the doors closed behind him. He raised his hand, giving a thumbs up to the member of the crew that operated his tube, and it was only a second later that Captain Lee Adama finally met space once again.
-
“Admiral,” Helo said from where he stood. “Apollo’s in Viper 3.”
Despite the situation they were already in, his face was stricken with Karl’s words. They did need every pilot out there if the fleet were to have a fighting chance at all, but the thought of his son heeding the call scared him far more than everything else. Apollo was without question the best pilot they had since Starbuck’s demise, but as his father, Bill knew Lee still walked a fine line of being stable enough to get into his own ship without a death wish. He wanted to call his son back, everything else be damned, but as his eyes locked with the position of Viper 3 on the DRADIS screen above him, he knew it was too late to bring him in. Even if he gave the order, he knew his son would never obey it. All he could do was hope he didn’t take the opportunity to greet himself an early death.
-
Though the Raiders had yet to meet the fleet, Lee’s DRADIS screen was speckled with the other colonial Vipers and SAR Raptors on their way to the fight. With the feel of the stick in his grasp, he wasn’t sure how he had avoided getting into his bird over the last two months. Here, he felt closer to Kara than anywhere else, perhaps even more so than the bed that they had once upon a time shared. His eyes were on the spread of black space before him and only the alarm of a nearby unknown ship brought him back.
“Galactica, Apollo. I have a bogey at my ten, I’m gonna go check it out.” Nerves coiled inside his stomach at being faced with what was most certainly a cylon Raider that had jumped ahead of the rest of the ships. He pulled on the stick in his hand and his ship veered to the left, leaving the rest of the group behind. He looked around through the canopy of his cockpit, trying to catch sight of the ship that had dropped off his DRADIS. More than likely it was jumping in and out, but he still felt the prickle of goosebumps spread over his flushed skin as he tried to track it down.
“Where’d he go, where the frak did you go!?”
He continued to speed ahead, weaving his ship in and out occasionally so he wasn’t such a sitting target as he flew alone and practically blind. Another ship sped overhead of his own, coming dangerously close. “What the frak!” Lee’s heart nearly stopped, catching only a glimpse of a portion of the metallic object. Raiders were usually rather daring, but they didn’t often play chicken like this.
Lee made move to press his finger over the comm switch to call back to Galactica and report on his findings, or lack thereof, when he spied something all too familiar out of the corner of his eye. Holding the throttle steady, his head turned to his left, finding Kara beside him. Though he welcomed the sight of her, he couldn’t help but wonder about her terrible timing. He hadn’t seen her like this in weeks now, but it made sense he would relapse when once again put behind the controls of his Viper. He hadn’t told anyone about seeing her because he didn’t want them to think he was losing his mind, although now faced with this vision, even Apollo had to admit at that moment he had to be closer to unraveling than ever.
“Hi Lee.”
“Am I dead?” Lee asked, seriously considering the notion that he had already met his fate in the battle and she was there to greet him home.
“What?” Her expression changed instantly, horrified at his suggestion. “Why would you say that?”
“You’re here,” Lee said, forgetting he had left the line open.
Kara softened before his very eyes. “I’m sorry I disappeared, Lee… but I’ve been to Earth. I know where it is. I’m going to take us there.”
His Viper continued to run parallel to hers as he watched across at her, reminded of all those nights in the bunk room when they’d stared at each other just like this from their respective beds. “I know you’re not real, Kara,” he said with much regret. “I’m dreaming you so you’re just saying everything I want to hear.”
“Lee! What the frak are you talking about? Didn’t you hear me? I’ve been to Earth!”
She was more abrasive than the one his memory usually cooked up, but he paid it no mind. Maybe he was just getting better at perfecting his versions of her. “No,” he shook his head. “I saw your ship explode, I watched you die. You’re not real.” His eyes shut tightly for a few seconds, looking back over to her when they opened. This trick usually forced her manifestations to disappear, as if he was refocusing himself. Kara was still there. Tears welled up in his eyes and anger poured through him because the last thing he needed right now was to see her and to be distracted by something that couldn’t even be real.
“I don’t know what you saw, but I’m right here. I swear to the Gods,” Kara pleaded with him, suddenly unsure of herself when faced with the rejection he delivered. “Lee.” She called out, her voice loud, until he locked eyes with her. “It was beautiful, just like we talked about it. Big blue oceans, fluffy white clouds.” She watched him with tears pooling in her eyes. “You’re going to love it. I promise.”
Lee surrendered to her then. If she was leading him to his death, he would follow her right in. This time, he wouldn’t be alone in the end.
His father’s voice rang in his ear, deafening compared to the gentle sound Kara had used with him.
“Apollo, it’s a trick. Whatever you’re seeing it’s a trick.”
The blood drained from his face at his father’s words. He tried to keep his bird steady but his hands shook, feeling the loss of control over himself at the implications of what his father said. “You can hear her?”
“It isn’t Starbuck, Lee, you know she’s dead.”
His eyes looked back to Kara and her expression read of hurt and betrayal at what the Old Man was saying about her. For Lee, this glance to his left was far unlike all the ones he’d made in the last few minutes. Now she wasn’t just a vision, now Kara was absolutely real. He could choose to believe it if he wanted to.
“Tell me something I don’t know about you, something I would never know.”
Whatever Kara thought of his request, she didn’t verbalize her questions. She didn’t even have to think about what she would tell him, the words just came out. “When you were on New Caprica, I used to polish my shoes every week, thinking about you sitting at your rack doing yours during those first few months.” Kara paused. “And when we had to leave you behind, I’d pray to the Gods when I did it, asking them to take care of you for me.”
He had no way of verifying it, at least not from his cockpit, but he was certain it had never been anything she had shared with him or even hinted at. If his mind was making this up, his psychosis had reached new and impressive levels.
“I’ll tell you everything later. Don’t lose me, Lee,” she said as her ship pulled away and his soon followed.