Food for the Immortals - Final Chapter
Title: Food for the Immortals
Pairing: Helo/Apollo, Helo/OMC
Rating: M
Warnings: (none)
Word Prompt: Ambrosia
Setting: Season 3, while Apollo is CAG but after Starbuck’s death
Summary: In myth only the Gods may taste of Ambrosia, for it truly is the food of the immortals. What then, does it mean when mortals indulge? Will it make them immortal, turn them into gods? Or is it like everything else, the journey is the most important thing?
Previous Chapters: Chapter One Chapter Two
Chapter 3
"Karl," grunted Apollo. "Little help here?"
Helo jumped over and grabbed the bar, perilously close to Apollo's throat. He had been watching, really… but then he did have other things on his mind as well. Like how exactly to get Apollo in to that viewing lounge, with a bottle of ambrosia and onto the couch and in his arms; much like Hotdog had been in his arms at the club?
Okay, not a good thing to be imagining right now. Turning away slightly to hide his thoughts Helo threw a towel Apollo's way and tried to say a little off-hand, as if it had just occurred to him. "Oh Lee, by the way, I kind of feel bad about the whole Hermes' Wing incident - I want to make it up to you."
"Oh yeah, the supply run isn't enough?"
Helo chuckled, Apollo knew that it was far from a punishment. "That was for the troops Lee, you know that - making an example and all that."
Apollo stripped off his shirt and towelled himself down but Helo barely noticed. "So I give you an out," said Apollo. "And you still find a way to feel guilty - well far be it for me to turn down a favour."
Helo looked up, sure that he could see a glint in Apollo's eyes but unsure exactly what it could mean. He hesitated before speaking again.
"Um, well - I kind of acquired an authentic bottle of ambrosia, distilled from the Caprician Mountains no less."
Apollo froze, head engulfed by the towel. "You have my undivided attention Karl," he said a little muffled.
"Thought I might," muttered Helo, thankful Apollo couldn't see his face at the moment. "But I don't want the plebs getting any, if you know what I mean," here it was, the moment Apollo might see right through him and tell him to frak off. "So… meet me on the observation deck, after third shift?"
Helo held his breath as Apollo continued to dry his hair, preventing any tell-tale expression to be seen. Finally he looked up, a quizzical smile on his face. "Won't Sharon be a little jealous?"
"Wha-?" Helo almost squeaked, his heart thudding in his chest. "Well she, um, you see…"
Apollo seemed not to notice Helo's little panic attack and continued his question. "I mean if I remember she does love a drop of the green stuff and if she knew you and I were-."
"Oh!" gasped Helo, realising Apollo had not worked him out after all. "No, that was um, that was Boomer - my Sharon likes it but won't mind-."
"If you share?" asked Apollo, a grin spitting his features. "Settle down Karl, I'd love to." He slipped on a singlet and threw the towel into the bin before walking past Helo and clapping him on the shoulder. "Gods Helo, you're so tense, anyone would think you were asking me out on a date." He laughed at his own joke and left the room.
Helo sighed into the empty space, "Yeah, imagine that."
BSGBSGBSGBSG
Scratching his jaw Helo reminded himself that he had to shave before tonight. It was still hard to believe he had actually done it, after all the worry and concern and the hours spent sweating over how to ask. Of course the hardest part was still to come; but then he was committed and couldn't back out now.
"Wow," whispered a voice next to him and Helo turned to look at Brendan.
He had his visor pulled down and the light from the binary system reflected off it. Although Helo couldn't see his eyes he knew they would be wide with amazement; the young pilot had that way about him, cocky and arrogant one minute then full of childlike wonder the next. Pulling his own visor down Helo took the time to look as well and as he gazed at the two suns the tension and worry bled away.
They were beautiful, their colours intermingling in a gaseous nebulae that gave off a hundred different variants of red and blue, and all the mixtures in between. Trails of gas circled the red dwarf, like a cyclonic cloud formation; Helo used to love watching those from orbit around Caprica.
He supposed it should have hurt, remembering Caprica, but instead the view just gave him a shiver of goose bumps. A memory that was no longer painful but awe-inspiring; perhaps time really was beginning to heal some of his wounds?
He looked back at Hotdog but the pilot had let his head slump down.
"What's wrong Bren?" asked Helo, touching the man's shoulder.
Brendan could have shrugged him off, or said nothing but instead he sniffed slightly.
"Home."
Sighing slightly Helo nodded. "Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing - the way the gas swirls like-."
"A tropical storm in the height of summer," finished Brendan. "So peaceful from orbit, yet incredibly violent on the ground; two seemingly opposite possibilities in the same image."
Brendan raised his head and traced a gloved finger on the cockpit's window. "I wonder if the cylons see the same thing, beauty and terror all at once - maybe if they do there's hope for us yet?"
Helo thought of Sharon and smiled. "They see what we do… and so much more."
Brendan seemed to ponder that for a while before raising his visor and looking at Helo. “Then you should bring Sharon out to see this, she’d love it and I bet she must be annoyed at the extra duty you been pulling - I’ll even look after the midget, kind of my fault you got this job anyway.”
“That’s,” Helo paused and thought about it. “Thanks for the offer but no, I’m kind of busy later anyway.”
Brendan squinted and absently checked their heading. Helo thought he would say nothing but finally Brendan turned back to him. “You did it didn’t you - went after Apollo?”
“Viewing lounge, late - drinks…” Helo shrugged as if to say ‘who knows?’.
“Oh.”
“Oh?” Helo flipped up his own visor. “Oh? You practically pushed me into this and you say Oh?”
“Its just,” Brendan turned away, flipping some redundant switches. “I thought that-.”
“Raptor three-two-zero this is Galactica flight-ops.” The communications boomed out, interrupting whatever Hotdog was going to say.
“This is Raptor three-two-zero,” answered Helo. “Go ahead.”
“Sorry to break the news to you Helo but we need an extra for a perimeter fly-by on the graveyard shift.”
Shit thought Helo, there go his plans for tonight’s rendezvous.
“Flight this is Hotdog, I’ll take that play.”
Helo shot a look at Brendan, Hotdog volunteering for extra duty was like… it was strange.
“Copy that Hotdog, flight out.”
Brendan killed the link and took over the controls, veering off to return to Galactica. Helo didn’t know what to say, he hadn’t asked Brendan to do that for him.
“I guess I owe you another one,” he tried.
Brendan pursed his lips and refused to look Helo’s way. “Just remember Helo, if you become what he wants…Apollo will do what all gods do with their food.”
“And what’s that?” asked Helo smartly, not sure if he was liking this side of Hotdog.
Hotdog paused and made a course correction.
“He will consume you.”
BSGBSGBSGBSG
By the time he changed and got the bottle, kissed Sharon and got the 'don't come home' lecture again Helo was running a little late as he entered the viewing lounge. He sighed a thank you when he saw it was empty apart from Apollo sitting on the largest lounge. Helo walked over and saw that the other man's eyes were closed, asleep or just dozing it was hard to tell.
Taking this moment to see Apollo's face in the red and blue colouring Helo frowned slightly, the feelings he had expected were not coming to the surface. Where was the need, the want - the desire? Brendan had called ambrosia beauty, but while he saw that Lee was good-looking that extra shine he had always thought there was missing. Keeping a hold of the green bottle Helo sat lightly on the end of the couch so as not to disturb Lee and pondered what he was doing here.
It was the end result of what he had craved for so long; the effort and planning akin to a raid on a basestar. After all that it was like a let down, had he set his expectations too high? What in the gods was wrong with him - maybe he really was self-destructive and had to sub-consciously destroy anything good in his life? What was the other thing Brendan had said? for a mortal to covet ambrosia can bring either great power or everlasting torment.
He had coveted Apollo, felt like he owned him - his one and only target. It had blinded him to everything else and slowly realisation hit Helo like a blow to the chest.
The person on that lounge was not who he wanted. The pursuit, the growing reliance and the build up to something more than friendship; all the things he had thought to be doing with Apollo had been done to him. Smiling he tossed the ambrosia onto the couch and leaned back, letting the soft light play across his body.
Helo wanted to laugh, to clap, something so that he couldn’t think about how blind he had been. Oblivious just took on a whole new meaning Karl, he thought to himself, and it is you.
As if the galaxy was conspiring to give him another jolt anyway the speaker crackled to life, it was set on the emergency channel so anyone in the viewing lounge would know of trouble approaching.
"Galactica this is Green Two - requesting emergency rescue and retrieval"
"Raptors launching now Green Two, sit-rep?"
"Green Five is down… I repeat Green Five is down."
An icy fist latched around Helo's heart. "Brendan," he whispered.
Green Five was Brendan.
"Green Five still registers Green Two, what is your situation?"
"Hotdog clipped a gas pocket Galactica - he's powered down and spiralling out of control”
The second voice, it sounded like Jasper, was rising in panic - Brendan must have been in real trouble. Helo arose and found himself walking up to the viewing window. There was no way he could see the squadron from here but he couldn’t just sit there.
“Green Two can you make contact with Green Five?”
“I’ve been trying Galactica; he’s not responding”
“C’mon Bren,” breathed Helo. “Come on!”
“Oh Gods - Green Five is venting plasma, where’s that damned rescue Galactica?”
“NO!” shouted Helo and banged on the glass.
“This is Raptor One, firing grapplers…got him!”
The comms went silent and Helo put his forehead on the glass, finding it suddenly hard to breathe. Brendan was a good pilot but anyone could hit a gas pocket, and if he was unconscious it didn’t matter how good he was - the fuel might ignite, his oxygen might run out. The list of scenarios flickered through Helo’s head and he clenched a fist in frustration - it should’ve been him out there.
“Raptor One, what’s your status?”
Silence answered the request and Helo felt sick.
The comms crackled loudly…
“We have him Galactica! A little roughed up but Hotdog lives to fight another day.”
There was a collection of cheers on the comms and congratulations from flight ops. For Helo it was if his whole body had been thrown into a cold river. For a time he had thought Brendan was gone.
“Helo?” Putting his back against the glass Helo turned to Lee, steeling his expression to prevent his emotions spilling out.
Lee had probably heard the whole scenario, the comms were fairly loud. Of course being the professional that he was he had stayed off the air, knowing there was nothing he could do from here.
“You alright?” asked Lee, and Helo nodded, not trusting his voice just yet.
“Close one,” agreed Lee, as if Helo had spoken.
“Yeah,” Helo rasped, finally finding his voice. “I was a little spooked that’s all - it was meant to be me out there.”
Lee nodded in understanding, as only a fellow pilot could. He held the bottle of ambrosia and offered it to Helo. “Guess we really need this now huh?”
Helo stared at the bottle stupidly but made no move to take it.
“Karl?”
Apollo’s voice pulled him back and Helo smiled somewhat apologetically. “Sorry Lee, I just remembered something, I can’t stay.”
Nodding strangely Apollo tried to hand the bottle over again.
“Nah,” said Helo. “Keep it - I don’t need it anymore.”
“Okay,” Apollo said slowly. “You know Karl… for what’s its worth I am sorry.” He went back to the couch and sat down, returning his gaze to the binary system. “I think I would’ve enjoyed this.”
With a flash of clarity Helo realised that Lee was not talking about the ambrosia or the view. They made eye contact and in Lee’s expression Helo saw the truth - Apollo knew, had always known. More importantly Helo would only have to ask and Lee would say yes.
“I-.” Helo hesitated, not sure what to do, what to say.
“Don’t you have to be somewhere else?” asked Apollo.
“Yes.” Helo made to leave then turned around. “Hey Lee, thanks.”
Apollo said nothing until Helo reached the door. “Karl! Don’t forget, we have a work-out in the morning okay?”
“Sure,” said Helo with a grin and left the room.
BSGBSGBSGBSG
Brendan walked along the corridor and stretched out the kink in his neck. The Doc had pronounced him fit to go back to quarters and for once he was going to follow orders. That had been a close thing, too close perhaps.
Nothing like a taste of death to put things in perspective.
First thing tomorrow he was going to see Karl and tell him how he felt. The game had been fun but at some point it had become painful - seeing Karl repeatedly moon after Apollo and totally ignore what Brendan was offering.
He was definitely getting the everlasting torment part of his chat with Helo when they discussed ambrosia. Brendan cursed himself for not acting sooner, for not putting it all on the line; instead Karl and Apollo were probably engaged in… Brendan couldn’t even stomach the image.
Arms suddenly wrapped around him from the back and only the familiar scent stopped Brendan from lashing out. Hands clutched his midsection and pulled him into an alcove, conveniently dark and out of sight.
“Almost dying may have been a little much to get my attention,” Karl’s lips whispered by his ear and Brendan shivered. This was not play, or bravado or whatever else they had been engaged in.
It was real; he could feel it in the heat from Karl’s body, the tension in his arms and the waver in his voice.
Squirming around until he was face to face with Karl it was all Brendan could do not to giggle like a recruit. He breathed in Karl and looked into his eyes. In them he saw what he needed, what he wanted.
Desire.
Lust.
Ownership.
He had become Karl’s ambrosia.
“The gods,” whispered Brendan as he leaned in for the kiss, “Don’t know what they’re missing.”
The End
Author’s note: The use of Call Signs. What a wonderful thing, I have tried to use their names to convey how they think of others, and themselves.
Karl ‘Helo’ Agathorn always thinks of himself as Helo, or almost always. It is his persona, indistinguishable from just Karl. He mostly thinks of Lee ‘Apollo’ Adama as Apollo, even if he’s calling him Lee out loud his mind still says ‘Apollo’ - because he is his own personal god.
The dynamic with Brendan ‘Hotdog’ Costanza was delicious. When it begins Hotdog is always Hotdog, but then as their relationship evolves it becomes Brendan, even when on duty; yet he can still be Hotdog at his most playful. Helo sees Hotdog as two different people, only when Brendan almost dies does he truly see, it is only Brendan - Hotdog was just a name given to him by people who barely knew him.
Of course Brendan sees Karl as Karl and himself as Brendan - he’s just not that conflicted.
AshtakRa Masterfile (other stories by AshtakRa)