presidentpythia: (Default)
[personal profile] presidentpythia
Roslin accompanies Bill and Lampkin back to Galactica, and handles the work of occupying Baltar's new attorney in conversation while the admiral informs his son of his new job as security detail.

She knows Apollo won't be happy with the news. It doesn't matter. Even if she'd been inclined to argue, he needs something to focus on to distract him from Kara Thrace's death.

Once Lampkin and his reluctant escort depart for his quarters, she excuses herself as well, but she has no intention of returning to Colonial One just yet.

There's someone else she needs to see first.

Date: 2011-03-13 05:20 am (UTC)
cbucsrule: (in tears)
From: [personal profile] cbucsrule
Frak, frak, frak, frak frak.

Frak.

It isn't his leg making him swear. Breaking it was just stupid but... it's... it's everything else, every frakking bit of it, all of it.

She's still alive, right? He knew better. He knew so much better, and he can't... he can't... he...

"If you don't stay still, that bone won't set. You either hold it together and stop moving, son, or I'll strap you to that bed." Cottle's in a mood but who isn't, and his head's not feeling any better than it was before he decided to fall off the top of a Viper, and it's not alcohol putting tears in his eyes now.

It's Kara. She's...

She's gone, and this time he won't be able to get her back. He won't be able to get her back, and he's alone. He's more alone than he's ever been. Looking up at Doc, he nods. Nods, but can't form the words to say anything, and when he feels the bone snapped back into place and Cottle's hand on his shoulder, he lets his eyes close. Doesn't move to wipe away the tear that escapes: he doesn't care.

He doesn't care about anything, not any more. A needle goes into his arm and that's the last thing he feels before blackness claims him.

Date: 2011-03-13 05:49 am (UTC)
cbucsrule: (you're lying)
From: [personal profile] cbucsrule
There's one blessed moment where Kara's standing over him, rubbing his shoulder, telling him to wake the frak up. Stop wasting time, stop frakking around, stop pretending. She's not real happy with him but that doesn't matter: she's here by his side and he knew it. He knew she was too lucky to check out; he knew she wouldn't leave him for long. They've always joked that he keeps losing her, but she keeps being found again so that makes him a really frakking lousy loser of people. You can't lose me even when you try, Sam, she told him in exasperation the last time they had the conversation.

Gods, he's so glad Lee was wrong this time. She is still alive. He was right.

The base of his skull throbs almost as much as his temples, but he's got to force his eyes open. Kara's here and he has to see her with his own eyes. Crash her Viper? Not his girl. She'd never do that.

"Hey." Struggling against the mud flooding his brain and thoughts, he raises his head off the pillow before his eyes are even open. The valiant effort doesn't last -- he's back on the pillow before he even realizes it -- and the incessant beep beep beep of some computer or other confuses him. Why is there so much frakking fog in his brain? He wasn't playing pyramid, not that he recalls, but this sure feels familiar in that we're pulling you out now, Anders, you have a concussion sort of way.

Layered with a sedative.

"Kara?" Finally, his eyes blink open; it takes him a moment.

"Oh." That's not his girl. Not his girl at all. "Laura?" Should he be calling her Madame President? He can't remember. "Am I in trouble?"

Date: 2011-03-13 06:00 am (UTC)
cbucsrule: (got to be kidding)
From: [personal profile] cbucsrule
"Wrong," he admits. Everything feels wrong. Holding his hand up in front of his eyes, he sees one of those blood pressure monitors on the end of his finger. "Everything feels wrong."

Like it weighs a ton, his hand falls to his chest and stays there.

"I think I... fell off a Viper." The memory of it brings the sting of tears to his eyes again because now, now he knows what happened, now it all floods back in with a frakking vengeance. "I might have broken something."

There's no trusting himself, not right now. "Doc told me not to move. I think."

Date: 2011-03-13 06:13 am (UTC)
cbucsrule: (in tears)
From: [personal profile] cbucsrule
"It's okay." With the hand unfettered by medical devices, he wipes his eyes. "It's just another... another thing." It's a struggle, propping himself up on his elbows, but he manages. Barely.

"Did you... you heard about--" He can't do it, can't say her name; it lodges in his throat, forces his teeth together and his jaw shut and he swallows back the single word, feels his lower lip start to quiver, bites it into submission.

All he can do is breathe, breathe, breathe.

"--Kara?" The instant the word is out his eyes close tightly but that doesn't keep a single godsdamn tear inside. They're hot on his face, like little rivulets of lava. Talking about it makes it too frakking real and he doesn't want this. He doesn't want it at all.

Date: 2011-03-13 06:40 am (UTC)
cbucsrule: (hurting)
From: [personal profile] cbucsrule
I'm so sorry. How many frakking times has he heard that? How many times has he said it? How many people have they lost to this war, for whatever reason? Not even counting the billions who died that first day?

And why does Kara have to be one of them?

"Why--"

He shakes his head, discarding the question he can't really put voice to. Why Kara isn't something he even wants to ask because there's no good answer to it, no good answer at all and even in this state, he knows it only too well.

"Gods." Every word, every single one, costs everything he has. "Laura. Madam President. I wish... I wish it had been me instead."

Date: 2011-03-13 07:10 am (UTC)
cbucsrule: (unhappy in bed)
From: [personal profile] cbucsrule
The cut-and-dried way she has isn't unsympathetic, but there's nothing nurturing about it either and he's not sure, brain fogged as it is by whatever Doc gave him, if that's better or worse than out-and-out sympathy. What happened to Kara, it's not about him. Nothing she does is ever really about him; she's too...

No, he has to tell himself. She was too... too self-contained for it to ever be about him or about Lee or about anybody else. She was, and now she's gone and there's nothing anyone can do about it.

Frak: he runs a hand through his hair, gets annoyed with the thing on his fingertip, yanks it off. The monitor over his head complains loudly; Ishay comes over, raises an eyebrow, and puts the thing right back on his hand. "Leave it on or we'll staple it on." She's joking, or at least he's pretty sure she is, but he has no sense of humor today. While she's here she adjusts a few things, lifts the blanket covering his leg, checks the cast on it. "You need to hold still. Madam President, see what you can do about that."

That doesn't sound like a joke, but the last thing he cares about right now is his frakking leg.

"It's broken, right?" He looks up at Ishay, help me written all over his face.

"In several places," she nods. "It will mend. If you listen to what we tell you and stop trying to sit up. Just for a little while here, do as you're told. Or the doctor will be unhappy."

What's worse, he wonders, having to be here unable to move, or... or... frak, there is no other option. No other option at all. "We wouldn't want to see Doc unhappy, would we."

It's not a question but Ishay smiles grimly regardless and goes about her business. Feeling... wrong as ever, small and useless, he turns back to Laura Roslin. "So what... what can I do for you, Madam President?" In the back of his mind he hears Kara. What can I possibly do for you, Sam. Gods, he refuses to believe it. She can't be gone. She can't.

Date: 2011-03-16 04:05 am (UTC)
cbucsrule: (serious in profile)
From: [personal profile] cbucsrule
The immediate answer is one he can't give because it's impossible and this time he'll blame the way his eyes fill on whatever it was Doc gave him. He doesn't feel right, can't help but feel that way. It's like... like someone reached into his chest and tore out his heart and it, it's a hole the size of Caprica and it will never, never fill again, never close, and he'll never be whole.

Never.

Bring Kara back is not a request he can make; stubbornly, he takes in a deep breath and shakes his head. "Special treatment from the President."

Sam, you're so godsdamn stubborn. How many times did his wife tell him that? You never ask for help even when you need it. He thought he learned from her, he really did. Does. She is... was... his angel, his lucky charm. Still teaching him the things he needs to learn, still doing it.

"Maybe just... a cup of water."

Kara would be so proud. If only she was here to see it.

Date: 2011-03-16 04:47 am (UTC)
cbucsrule: (in tears)
From: [personal profile] cbucsrule
"Thanks." Doc told him not to sit up, but he's not gonna ask for help drinking a cup of frakking water; he goes ahead and breaks the rules just enough to be sadly self-sufficient. There's something about sick bay and about hospital rooms in general that he doesn't like. They're confining; there's no air. Nowhere to go, nothing to do but revisit your own godsdamn misery. Gods know he spent enough time in them during his pyramid days for one thing or another: a busted a rib here, a stress-fractured ankle there. Then there was the whole collarbone thing and he swore off doctors and hospitals and nurses and physical therapists during those long months. And all that time he thought playing ball was the most important, the most significant thing he could have done, that he ever would do. Now he knows better.

The best thing he ever did, the absolute best, was being Kara Thrace's husband. The times they spent together, the... the way they were together. Not just when times were good but all the time, even when she wanted him gone, even when he wanted to be gone, it wasn't because he didn't love her. It was because he couldn't live with that much desire for revenge and retribution. That wasn't his Kara or... it was, yeah, it was, it was a side of her he hadn't known before and he hated what brought it out in her and wanted to fix it so badly, and he couldn't. She wouldn't even let him close enough to try.

Frakking stubborn pride. He rests the half-filled cup against his chest, hand around it like it's a newborn kitten, and turns back to Laura. "I hope I'm not here long enough to start counting threads. No offense. I just..."

There's no comparison, right? This thing with his leg, that's acute. Laura's cancer was chronic. No end in sight from it, but she found one. She found a way. Maybe one of those threads she counted led her on some inexplicable path to healing.

"I just..."

Frak: his jaw tightens and his eyes close again. When he speaks, he can hear it all in his own voice, every regret, every bit of pain, of... of unhappiness, of loss.

"...can't believe she's gone."

What else can he say?

"Maybe... maybe wherever she is, she's... kicking ass and taking names. That's what I want to believe." It's what he has to believe.

Date: 2011-03-16 05:11 am (UTC)
cbucsrule: (she can't be gone)
From: [personal profile] cbucsrule
"You believe in that, right?" He blinks over at this woman who... who's been through so much herself and he can't imagine the weight of responsibility that's been on her shoulders all these years. All the decisions, the snap judgments, the... all of it, it has to have been so overwhelming. He only really got to know her on New Caprica, as another link in the chain, another member of the underground, the most visible member of the resistance force they had there. He's not so frakked up on pain meds here that he can't remember the things she did for them, can't shake the feeling that title or no title, she's one of them.

That, he knows, is what makes a good leader to begin with. You're one of us, he heard it a million times when he played pyramid. You're just one of the guys, who knew?

"I mean, I never paid that much attention to scripture. I'd make confession once in a while, but..." Careful not to move too much, he shrugs. Bless me, brother, for I have acted against the example of the gods. He'd say it, bow his head dutifully, wait to hear his sins had been absolved in the example of the gods, and go on his way. Maybe just a nod to all that wasn't really enough. Kara believed more than he ever did.

"...but you believe in the prophecies." There's no challenge in his words, but there is a tiny ray of hope. It's one thing to go around thinking something from a completely casual point of view, but it's another thing altogether to have it confirmed by a real believer.

Anything, he'll take anything.

Date: 2011-03-16 05:26 am (UTC)
cbucsrule: (got to be kidding)
From: [personal profile] cbucsrule
"So you think she's..." Gods, he can't even say his wife's name. That makes it too real, too painful. "That just maybe she's, you know, at peace."

Frak: he wipes the corner of his eye, shakes his head stubbornly. "I mean, as much as someone like Kara could be." The memory of her face catches him so forcefully; he lets out a low sigh and stops trying to be stoic and stops trying to be brave, stops worrying about his reputation, just lets it all go. "Gods damn it, Laura, I can't frakking do this without her. I can't."

He can and he will and he knows that too, but in this moment, the only thing he has is a need that can never, never be filled.

Date: 2011-03-16 06:01 am (UTC)
cbucsrule: (leaning on one hand)
From: [personal profile] cbucsrule
Her hand on his is an unexpected comfort; he lets his eyes close, doesn't care about the cup of water cradled on his chest, doesn't care about much of anything.

"Yeah."

The painkiller Doc gave him makes him slow and exhausted and unnerved and that's the point, to make him just frakking stop. "I guess I should just sleep it off." That's why he's here, to be kept still while that cast sets and probably to make sure he doesn't try to climb up on top of a Raptor next time. Before he drowns himself in what he's sure will be some deep and dreamless despair, he can at least remember his manners a little bit.

"Thanks." For stopping by, for taking the time to say hello, for... for being the one person who cares enough to try to offer some comfort. He's a mess and he knows it, and now Laura Roslin knows it too.

And he really doesn't care. Kara's gone and she's not coming back and the only thing he knows with absolute certainty is that wherever she is, his heart's right there with her.

Date: 2011-03-16 06:23 am (UTC)
cbucsrule: (unhappy in bed)
From: [personal profile] cbucsrule
"Yes, Sir." He can't fight the meds any more. Can't fight the truth any more either. Can't fix his broken leg by himself, can't do a godsdamn thing about his broken heart.

Well. He's not the only one who's missing Kara, but he's the only one she was married to. In that fabric of threads that demand counting, he figures that counts for something. It has to. Life might be a cruel joke, but it's not so cruel that love is meaningless. He will always, always love his wife. He'll love her for the rest of his life, however long that turns out to be. When the sedative finally seduces him into sleep, he goes unwillingly but with Kara's name on his lips, her face the only thing he sees, and he hopes he doesn't wake up.

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Laura Roslin

January 2015

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