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rabid1stICED
By Rabid1st
BSG – K/L
RATING: PG-13 this part. NC-17 for all.
BETA BABES: Dualbunny, Lilth and Winter_Queen82
SPOILERS: I don’t think this fic has spoilers. But there is speculation of the coupling kind based on S2: Flight of the Phoenix.
TECHNICAL RESOURCES:Wikepedia: hypothalamus and Hypothermia.org
SUMMARY: This is a ‘nugget slang’ fic and a sequel to Shoot Your Shade. Which was a sequel to Burn the Pipe. Lee shot his shade (overreacted) last time out when he learned about Anders and dumped Kara cold. Now the path to togetherness is about to be iced.
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own these characters. They belong to the SciFi Channel, R&D and Ron Moore…whose e-mail address I don’t know. So, I can’t really ask him for permission or anything. But I’m not making any money or perks off of these characters…so please don’t sue me.
BURN THE PIPE:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/rabid1st/65528.html#cutid1
SHOOT YOUR SHADE:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/rabid1st/66968.html#cutid1
PART ONE:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/rabid1st/69278.html#cutid1
PART TWO:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/rabid1st/69431.html#cutid2
PART THREE:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/rabid1st/70767.html#cutid3
PART FOUR:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/rabid1st/71427.html#cutid1
PART FIVE
Zak came for Kara.
In her dream she heard him calling her name and woke to the sound of his voice. Lacking the air to yell, she could only whisper her reply. She couldn’t lift her head. It was too heavy, her tongue too thick. When she opened her eyes, she saw a maelstrom of brightly colored sparks. And then she saw Zak striding toward her. He looked worn and weary. A battered artic coat flared around him. Kara was so happy to see him tears sprang to her eyes. But he seemed upset as he knelt beside her. He striped off his gloves to place a hand on her forehead. After lingering there for a moment, his cool fingers slipped to her throat.
“Gods, you are so hot,” Zak said, bringing her hand to his cheek. “Kara? Can you see me? Do you know who I am?”
His lips moved as he took her pulse but the sound in her ears made no sense. She heard the words ‘fever’ and ‘fire’ and ‘ship.’ Zak shouldn’t fly. He wasn’t ready. She knew that. She needed to warn him, tell him not to take the ship out.
“Zak,” she croaked.
“Agapeta?”
He shouldn’t call her that. Lee would get angry. Lee was going to be so angry anyway, about the sled burning, about her taking the mask off. She didn’t like it when he yelled. It hurt and she couldn’t stop herself from yelling back.
“No…Zak…. Please…listen…”
“It’s me, Kara. It’s Lee,” Zak said.
“Lee’s gone…he’s…I’m not going to…”
He slid an arm under her shoulders and helped her to sit, bracing her against his bent leg. She leaned into him. A sharp sting on her arm drew her attention. She glanced down and through the spinning colors saw a needle flash. He was drugging her. Before she could ask what he’d given her, he pressed the cold lip of a canteen to her mouth. She choked on the splash of water. Sputtering she pushed Zak away. He tipped sideways. Catching his balance with difficulty, he gave a strangled cry as if in pain. Kara found she wasn’t able to sit without his support and slumped to the ground.
“Zak,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“Kara, can you stand? Walk at all?
She tried to press up but fell back and shook her head.
“How the hell am I going to get you to the ship? There was a raider…”
Kara wished he would stop going off on tangents and concentrate. He was holding her hand. She saw he was bleeding from a cut over his eye. Her hand fluttered trying to reach him but her arms felt leaden. It took all of her strength to withdraw her fingers from his grasp. She turned away as he wrapped his arms around her, holding tight. Frustrated by his meandering comments and her swollen tongue, she struggled to finish her apology.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “…about…Lee.”
“It’s not important now.”
She looked back at him. How could he say it wasn’t important? She’d cheated on him with his brother. He hadn’t been cold in the ground when she’d taken what she’d always wanted. Her lungs refused to draw breath. As she gasped, she stared up into her fiancé’s boyishly sweet face. There was something older in his eyes. She realized there was no need to explain. He knew. It occurred to her that maybe he had known all along.
“Kara? I have to get you to the ship. We can’t stay here.”
“No…not the ship…I can’t…Zak,” She went for his weak spot, “I love you so much.”
He winced and she knew he didn’t believe her. She focused her energy, desperate to get her message across, and found the strength to grab his jacket front. “Don’t go, please.”
“Kara, you have to be still.” He dropped to his knees beside her. “I won’t,” he said, gliding his hand over her hair. “I won’t take the ship. I know I’m not ready.”
His voice had a husky distortion as if, Kara thought, he were about to weep. She wanted to comfort him but she was so tired. She could feel herself sinking into grey fog. Zak lovingly caressed her face his fingertips brushing her lower lip. She remembered the gesture well, remembered his gentleness. Lee could be gentle, too, but for some reason seldom was. Zak’s face grew even more indistinct through the tears and fog and sparkling lights clouding her vision. He was such a special person. He loved her and she didn’t deserve him, didn’t deserve to be happy. He could be happy though. He could live a long happy life. If only she could make him understand.
“I thought you were dead,” she rasped. “Lee would never…I…wanted to stay…”
“Kara, don’t. I know you…love me.” He sounded like his heart was breaking.
“Don’t be mad.”
“I’m not. I’m not mad.”
“I should have…told you…”
“You told me,” he assured. “All the time.”
He didn’t understand. He was going to try to be Lee. And he wasn’t Lee. It was going to happen all over again, the bloom of bright light in the sky. He would die never knowing the truth. Never knowing the ship didn’t matter to her.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No…about Lee…
“Kara, it’s okay. I know.” Sniffling, she stilled, blinking up at him in surprise. “We don’t have to talk about it. I know about Lee…what happened. In the kitchen. On the bike trips. At Delphi. I know it wasn’t your fault. You were never…his.”
“Never,” she said in a forlorn whisper.
“Then, this can wait,” he said, scooping her into his arms. “Now, I need you to stay still. I’m going to try to carry you to the Raptor.”
“Not the ship,” she cried trying to wrench away from him. He yelped like a kicked dog. The sharp, pitiful sound made Kara immediately contrite. “What? Zak, what’s wrong?” She turned into him and lifted a trembling hand to touch his shoulder. “Are you hurt?”
“My ribs,” he panted. “They’re broken, Kara. Try not to move for a minute.” He took a few shallow breaths and then said, “Lee…Lee is going to fly.”
Kara tried to blink away the shimmering haze between them. “Lee…had to go…”
“No, he came back. Remember? You’ve seen him.”
Kara thought about it. Had she seen Lee? Yes, in a bright field. She’d sprayed him with water. In the water, as the cold crushed her…he was on the ice. On her. In her. It was all part of her terrible dream. The one where Zak died and then the world ended. She noticed Zak waiting for her response. Her chin bobbed uncertainly.
“I failed basic flight…and then Lee came back,” Zak prompted.
She remembered that. “Yes. You failed…I’m sorry…”
“So, Lee is going to fly us home.”
“Lee is going to fly?”
“I promise, hand to Zeus, I won’t go near the cockpit.”
She smiled up at him and relaxed with a sighed, “Okay.”
“Good. Now, that’s settled, try not to move.”
Gathering her to his chest, he lurched to his feet. An involuntary gasp escaped his tightly clenched teeth. Taking an abbreviated breath, he cursed roundly. Kara didn’t understand what was happening but she tried to stay very still as Zak carried her from the cave. Every step seemed to increase his agony. And he had to take a lot of steps.
After they cleared the cave mouth, they climbed slowly to a ridge above the bay. Kara murmured sweet encouragements. As they crossed the rocky summit, she saw the ship resting in a slight dip below them. The descent was shorter than the climb but it took a very long time. Zak stumbled and slipped and occasionally cried out though he never completely lost his footing. As he skidded down the slope Kara stared at his ear. She studied the swirls and arches with an artist’s eye.
It was a beautiful ear, elegantly curled. The sight of it made her tingle despite her illness. Zak had introduced her to her ear fetish. No two were alike he’d told her. The shell-like patterns were as unique as fingerprints. Under Zak’s tutelage she’d come to understand the ear as a sexual organ. It was sensitive to sound and touch, aware of even slight vibrations. She had traced this ear a hundred times. Sketched it, even committed it to canvas. She knew it intimately.
*********************************************************
Lee kept redefining pain. His ribs throbbed. His chest ached. His breath was so short he was beginning to think he’d punctured a lung. His patience with Kara was wearing very thin. Struggling to keep his balance as he carried her over the uneven footing, Lee had learned more than he cared to about her feeling for his brother. Additionally, every shift of her weight had his ribs grinding over raw nerve endings. She didn't squirm but gravity worked against him. She was heavy, tall and muscular with broad hips and shoulders. The pain became nearly unbearable. He wanted to put her down but he didn’t dare. Didn’t think he could lift her again.
In the early morning he’d imagined guiding a speeding Swan along uneven ice while nursing a few broken ribs was a tolerable definition of pain. Hours later, when he’d crested the horizon in the Raptor his understanding changed. A pillar of smoke smudged the clear sky above Kara’s cave as a Cylon raider slowly circled. Seeing it, Lee knew she was dead. He’d arrived a few minutes too late. Physical pain paled next to the deeper wound of grief.
Too stunned to weep, he’d thumbed the release on a battery of missiles and obliterated the raider. Fiery shrapnel was still raining from the sky when Lee completed his skidding and reckless landing. He’d bolted from the Raptor and raced down the ridge to the cave. The lancing pain in his side had been all but forgotten. Expecting to find nothing but a smoldering ruin where the cave had been, he'd very nearly fallen to his knees in gratitude when he'd discovered the remains of the charred sled and Kara’s still form beyond it.
He’d called her name, heard her try to respond as he rushed to her side. Finding her pulse, weak but constant, knowing she was alive had shot his heart rate into the red zone. Color had bloomed in the world again. Kara hadn’t been captured or shot, and Lee thanked the Gods for that, but she was in bad shape, breathing raggedly and burning with fever. He’d rocked her in his arms for a moment and she’d called him Zak.
I love you so much.
The words slipped easily off her tongue. And Lee knew this is what it meant to be Zak, to be loved.
It was a cruel and unexpected blow. And it added heartbreak and jealous doubt to Lee’s other agonies. Every word Kara uttered after those fateful ones painted a clearer picture of how hopeless his devotion was. She still loved Zak. Would always love him. Would always regret her attraction to Lee. Lee had no doubts about her wanting him. But she wanted so many people. He couldn’t adjust to being one more hot fly boy on a long list. It wasn’t nearly enough. But Kara couldn’t give him her heart because it still belonged to his brother. All she wanted was Zak’s forgiveness. Every step Lee took drilled the message deeper into his mind. They had betrayed Zak’s memory for nothing...for a hard bounce.
Lee had no idea how he managed to reach the Raptor. The journey blurred in his mind. But as he stood at the foot of the steep wing of the ship he knew he wouldn’t be able to climb it carrying Kara. She had complied with his stricture against moving. Her head rested against his shoulder. Shifting her weight onto his braced knee, Lee panted out some of his pain.
“Kara,” he gasped. “I need you to help me. I need you to climb with me, okay?”
“You have the sexiest ears,” she whispered, tracing a fingertip up the ramp of his earlobe from his cheek.
The touch tickled. Lee jumped and immediately regretted the sudden movement. An invisible horse kicked him in the chest. His broken ribs and his crushed hopes ganged up on him, robbing him of breath. He pushed Kara to her feet. She staggered, clinging to him and he guided her up the wing of the Raptor. They stumbled through the hatch. The communications station seat was the closest. Thrusting Kara into it, Lee draped over her seatback, fighting the urge to vomit. She tipped her head back to stare thoughtfully up at him. She seemed completely coherent but Lee knew her clear gaze was an illusion. She was seeing Zak.
“Sexy,” she breathed, reaching a trembling hand out. She trailed her fingertips down the center of his chest. “Like the rest of you.” she pronounced. Her breathless state made her voice unintentionally alluring. “I think you’re the sexiest man alive.” For some reason her fever-addled brain found this extremely funny. She snickered and then dissolved into a paroxysm of coughing, pressing the knuckles of one hand against her mouth. “It’s not...just...because there are...hardly any men left...either,” she managed to say between hacks. “I thought...thought it the first time I saw you.”
Lee squeezed his eyes shut. He really couldn’t go on pretending he was Zak. It was killing him by inches. “Kara…” he began wearily as he crossed the few feet to the med-kit, secured on the far side of the cabin. “Please…try not to talk.”
Popping the clasp on the med-kit, Lee studied the available drugs. Kara had a fever and her lungs were full of fluid. She needed two different medicines but the color-coded labels told him they were incompatible. He had to choose one. His hand hovered uncertainly over the analgesic syringe. He wanted a shot. Between lifting the Swan twice and carrying Kara he’d definitely torn some cartilage. But Kara needed the analgesic more. A fever as high as hers was would be killing off brain cells.
He downed a few willow bark tablets, grimacing against the bitter taste as he chewed them. The ones he’d taken earlier hadn’t even blunted his pain but he had to get Kara’s fever down. As long as she was drawing air, Lee figured they could wait on the other medication. He waited for her to stop quaking with the laughter inspired cough. As soon as she was still, he jabbed her with the needle, injecting the full shot of analgesic.
She twitched and then seemed to relax a little. Lee squatted by her knee, peering into her face as he started hooking her up to the Raptor’s life-support system. Her oxygen levels were low but not life threatening yet. A rich air mix would help augment the work of her damaged lungs. When he tried to snap the flight harness across her body, she foiled his attempt by leaning toward him.
“Zak…knows…about Delphi.”
“Kara,” Lee sighed, shaking his lowered head as he adjusted straps.
“Lee,” she mocked him, shaking her head in return. The denial made her moan and clutch her temple. “Oh, I'm dizzy.”
She'd said his name. Lee felt a tingle of renewed energy race through his veins. He glanced up, meeting her glazed eyes. “Kara, do you know who I am?”
“Lee? Captain Adama, sir,” she said, squinting against the spinning. “You have the sexiest ears, sir,” she confided drunkenly. “I thought that when...from...the first time I saw you. In the brig. On Caprica. I bet he’s a great lay…I thought.” Her eyes closed and she sank into the seat, exhausted by this revelation but murmuring, “No two are alike.” Her hand became too heavy to hold at her temple. She let it fall into her lap. “I feel…funny, Lee. What did you give me?”
“Something for your fever,” Lee said, returning to his tasks. “What about Zak?” he asked, wondering as he did if he was going to have to seek professional help for this masochistic streak. “You still love him?”
“He’s okay,” she sighed. “He told me not to worry. He understands…”
“I wish I did.”
“I can’t marry him…”
Lee thought he must have misheard. “What?”
“Oh…he knows…” her voice was a thin thread of sound. Lee took her hand. It felt fragile in his grasp like a newly hatched bird.
“You aren’t going to marry Zak?”
“I told him about you, Lee. I told him…we’re…we’re in love…okay?”
Probably as some kind of practical joke, one of the Gods had apparently turned Lee’s insides into butterflies. He could feel all their tiny wings beating and thought the combined lift might let him walk on air. He tightened his grip on Kara fingers.
“Kara? Agapeta? Can you hear me?”
He cupped her cheek, touched his thumb to her lips. Her eyelids fluttered but she didn’t open them or speak again. Lee combed his free hand into Kara’s hair. She didn’t react at all. He placed his palm on her chest as his eyes went to her life monitor. Her heartbeat was sluggish. Her breathing was so shallow he couldn’t feel her breast rise and fall. Alarmed, he let go of her hand and finished fastening the sensor pads to her wrist and neck. The Raptor’s life support system churned out data for him.
Kara’s vital signs were dipping into the medical alert zones. Her temperature had dropped. Her blood oxygen levels bordered on critical. Lee pulled the oxygen mask cord, releasing it from its compartment over Kara’s head. He covered her mouth and nose and dialed up a rich air mix. As he watched the saturation point of her blood slowly rise a series of sonic booms drew his gaze to the ceiling.
“Frakking Cylons,” he spat.
Kara needed a doctor. No tin can with delusions of independent thought was going to stop him from getting her back to Galactica. He sprinted for the pilot’s chair. If he didn’t lift off they’d be sitting ducks and the last thing they needed was another delay. He strapped in. Buckling his harness with one hand, he punched diagnostics with the other. Keeping an impatient eye on the read outs, he primed the weapons, while the thrusters reheated. Thankfully, this Raptor had been refitted with more than enough fire power. The red line climbed quickly into the safe zone. Again, Karios was with him. His engines hadn’t had time to cool. If he’d had to prime from a dead stop he wouldn’t have made it into the air.
Green lights flashed on every panel. As the first of the Cylons crested the horizon, Lee sent the Raptor into the sky, firing as he climbed. His opening battery took out an enemy ship. The others veered out of formation. Ignoring every flight school precaution, Lee treated the Raptor like a viper and flipped it end for end. It wasn't designed for that kind of manuever. The ripping G-forces filled his vision with stars. He punched the afterburners to stabilize the Raptor's recovery. The ship’s engines sputtered and for a second failed to catch. But the Raptor was a work horse of a vessel. It made the turn and started to climb. If they could clear atmosphere, they could jump. This wasn’t the time to stand and fight.
Lee calculated the distance to the stratosphere, rounding up in his head and adding on a few minutes to spare. Fairly certain of his figures, he started the FTL drive calculator humming. A cylon ship shot across his bow. Lee banked sharply to the right and blasted at the rusty bastard, winging him. The other two raced with him to the edge of space. Lee flew a zigzagging course and stayed one spray of laser fire ahead of the enemy. The star field opened before him and he caught a glimpse of a distant base star. He'd roared straight into the middle of an entire squadron of raiders.
They broke away from him, wheeling to fire, and the Raptor jumped.
As soon as they blinked in at the rendezvous point, Lee slapped the emergency beacon.
It took too long to get a reply, too long to be cleared through security and dock, and far too long to get Kara to the med lab.
By the time Lee completed his hands-on approach he knew Kara was in trouble. She was completely unresponsive. Her vital signs had dropped to a comatose level. Her respiration was labored. Lee crouched by her side, waiting for the ground crew to haul them up to the hanger. He kept glancing at the Raptor’s hatch, willing it to sense pressure and open the damned airlock. As soon as the hull cracked, he yelled for medics. Three or four of them swarmed into the small cabin. They started asking him questions.
He tried to think clearly but the world had taken on a dream-like quality. He kept urging the medics to hurry, to help, but they kept dawdling and asking him if he was hurt, if he could explain what had happened to Kara one more time. Lee’s patience ran out long before their curiosity. His chest felt lead lined. His head was spinning and he had zero tolerance for the cheers and congratulatory slaps on the back from his crewmates. He pushed people from his path as he exited the Raptor to follow Kara’s stretcher. Someone, possibly his father, shouted his name from the catwalk but he ignored the summons. He needed to know Kara was okay before he could think of anything else.
******************************************************
Cottle, a stub of a cigarette dangling from his lips, glanced over the emergency response team’s report. Setting the papers aside after a quick perusal, he plugged a stethoscope into his ears and listened to Kara’s breathing. What he heard made him pucker his brow. His hand slipped down to her wrist even as he glanced at the monitors over the bed. He liked to count heartbeats. He never quite trusted the machinery. As he counted, he cast a sidelong look at Lee.
‘Stims,’ he thought. ‘Too many. Probably on top of tank.’
He ground out his cigarette and indicated a bedside chair. “Sit down before you fall down, Captain,” he said. Removing the stethoscope from his ears, he let it hook around his neck.
“How is she?” Lee asked for the eighth time, ignoring the offer of a seat. “Shouldn’t you be doing something?”
“I am doing something,” Cottle grumbled. He beckoned to a swarthy, efficiently coifed woman on the far side of the room. “Right, now, I’m getting you a nurse.”
“I don’t need a nurse,” Lee said.
Pointing at a splatter of crimson on Kara’s sheets, Cottle said, “You’re bleeding all over my sterile environment. Then, there’s the smell. You not only pace like a caged lion, you reek like one, too. Take off your coat. Sit. Try to relax. You aren’t helping her.”
Drawing a penlight from his pocket, the doctor turned back to his sedated patient. He lifted Kara’s eyelids to check her pupil dilation. What he saw made him mumble a few unintelligible notes into a tiny recorder. Lee bounced like a prize fighter, tattered duster shadowing his movements. Cottle clicked the penlight off and returned it to his smock pocket. His blunt fingers gripped Kara’s neck. He gently manipulated her vertebrae and then slowly turned her head from side to side.
“There’s some bruising near the right temple,” Cottle remarked. “Did you hit her?”
“What…? No, I did not hit her…what kind of ridiculous question….”
“It’s a small ship, Captain. You want to avoid embarrassing questions don’t make a habit out of decking your pilots in the hanger bay.” Addressing the nurse who had just appeared at his elbow, the doctor said, “Helen, stitch up that cut over the Captain’s eye. Then, we’ll need to X-ray his ribs.”
“Frak off,” Lee told the nurse, when she reached for his arm. She turned a silent appeal on the doctor.
“Sit,” Cottle ordered, pointing to the chair again. “Or I’ll call your father down here.” Lee reluctantly sat and the doctor praised him like an errant puppy. “Good, boy. Now, tell me what you gave Lt. Thrace to bring on this reaction.”
“Tetrazinc for her lungs. M-33P for the fever.”
“Not willow bark?”
Lee shook his head, practically wrenching the needle from Nurse Helen’s fingers. Her fresh stitches ripped free. Lee grunted. Squinting, he gingerly touched the corner of his eye.
“No. She was delirious,” he told the doctor as he blinked away the sting. “I thought I should get her fever down as quickly as possible.”
“Mission accomplished,” Cottle sighed, casting a rueful glower at the monitor flashing Kara’s perilously low body temperature. He’d never favored putting hard drugs in the hands of viper pilots but so far he could find nothing to fault in Lee’s treatment. “No allergies you know of?”
“You’re her doctor.”
“And you’re her C.A.G.,” Cottle snapped. “It’s your job to have every pilot’s essential medical information in your head. Anything new I don’t know about?”
“Nothing new. Pine nuts. That’s it.”
Cottle shook his head. Sweeping Kara’s hair back from her brow he examined her face probing with his fingertips. He opened and closed her jaw, checked her teeth and then massaged her scalp until he found something. He glanced at Lee. “She’s got a sizable bump here.”
Remembering, Lee grimaced. “Oh, frak! I forgot. She hit her head on the ice.” Combing one hand into his hair, he tugged worriedly at the short thatch. The nurse stopped stitching to glare at him.
“Sir, please, you need to hold still. I’m almost done.”
“I pushed her out of the water. And she hit her head.”
“But she came around? Was lucid?”
“Yes, sir,” Lee said. He started to nod, glanced at the nurse and thought better of it. “She seemed fine.”
“Did you read the M-33P label?”
“Green. It was green. I couldn’t give her the other one, the one for her lungs because it was red and you can’t mix them.”
“It’s also contraindicated in the event of concussion.”
Eyes fixed on Lee’s face, the doctor ran a hand down Kara’s arm to her wrist. He lifted her hand, gently turning it until he was cradling her palm. Lee was trying to remember what the label had said when the nurse stilled in the middle of tying off his stitches. Her stiffness drew Lee’s wandering attention back to the present. He followed the line of the nurse’s gaze to Kara’s arm and, for the first time, noticed the bruises on her wrist. The pattern was clear, four dark stains where his fingers had branded her creamy skin.
“Anything else you’d like to tell me, Captain?”
Lee had nothing useful to say. He spread his palms wide in a helpless gesture. Cottle continued to stare, tilting his head and lifting a caterpillar brow, expectantly.
“So,” Cottle prompted when Lee remained silent, “You tanked early and dived into the water after Lt. Thrace. What happens next during your who-gives-a-frak-about-the-regulations day?”
Lee started talking. “I held her by the wrist,” he began. “In the water. I couldn’t feel anything…my fingers were numb…” His voice faded out as he remembered Kara’s dead weight dragging on his arm. He lost track of what he was saying for a moment but, after clearing his throat, he picked up the narrative. “It took her awhile to wake up.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know. I got her off the ice. Found shelter. It was hours before she was fully awake.”
“Hours?” Cottle sounded shocked. He spoke into his recorder again. “We’ll need an M.R.I. Head trauma. Possible skull fracture. Concussion.”
“It was snow sleep,” Lee protested. “She was in and out of it and half-frozen.” Squeezing his eyes closed, for a moment, he went back to his chronological storyline. “I gave her the tank. She threw-up, twice. Just seawater. And…she was disoriented; I guess…I can’t really say for sure. She didn’t say anything about her head”
“Was her breathing labored? Did she cough? Wheeze? Have trouble talking?”
“No. Not at first. When she woke up she wanted to fight. I would never have…I wasn’t thinking about it…I mean…if she’d said anything, I would have…but….” Running out of breath, Lee paused to collect his scattered thoughts. “She started struggling for air and I put her on the respirator.”
“Respirator?” Cottle glanced at his notes again. “You didn’t mention the respirator. I thought you gave her Tetrazinc.”
“Later,” Lee said. “We…lost…the medkit. And I had to go. I couldn’t get her medicine until after the mission. And there was a fire while I was gone. She must have inhaled smoke…on top of the water before….”
Lee stopped talking. He knew he wasn’t making much sense. Suddenly exhausted and aware of the pain in every part of his body, he stared mistily at Cottle. Nurse Helen snipped the thread on his stitches and sealed them with a strip of tape.
“Why did you tank early?” Cottle asked. His voice was kind, making no judgments.
“I had to...the ice was cracking. She wasn't going to make it.” Lee took a stabilizing breath and found the courage to ask, “How long before she wakes up?”
The doctor shook his head. “I can’t answer that, Captain. The medication in a standard respirator is C-619. Red labeled. You shouldn’t mix it with M-33P. My guess is this is an overdose induced coma. You gave her too many drugs, too close together.”
Fear stretched Lee’s vocal cords violin-string tight. His mouth moved but no sound escaped. Then he squeaked, “I did this?” He wanted to scream or lash out but a spine-numbing weariness hit him and he couldn’t even move.
“You weren’t thinking clearly,” Cottle remarked absently. “But she has the constitution of an ox. If we can keep her stable until the drugs wear off, she should recover.”
Nurse Helen shot a repressive glare at Cottle as she gathered up her supplies. The doctor seemed oblivious to Lee’s distress. He was listening to Kara’s lungs again, frowning. Apparently, dissatisfied with the sounds, he pushed the wooly bulk of her sweater aside, exposing her shoulders and upper chest. He stilled, staring. There was a clear imprint of a bite mark on Kara’s right shoulder. Nurse Helen gave a tiny gasp. Lee glanced up and then gaped in open-mouthed disbelief.
He knew what he was looking at. He remembered inflicting the bite and yet, it seemed like it couldn’t have actually happened. Denial came easily to his mind and his lips.
“That’s…it’s not what it looks like…”
Cottle released a long-suffering sigh. Some days he hated this job. Lately those days had coincided with the causality fall-out from Colonel Tigh’s so-called missions. Studying Lee through narrowed eyes, Cottle took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He knocked the pack against his knuckle, freeing a single smoke and then patted himself down for his lighter. When he found it, he lit up and drew in a few long puffs. Contemplating both of his patients, he chewed on his filter tip, moving the cigarette from one corner of his mouth to the other. Then, using thumb and forefinger, he pinched it into the curl of his hand.
“Helen,” he said gruffly without looking towards his nurse. “I want you to go check on Mr. Agathon. Make sure he’s coming out of the anesthesia. We’ll get Captain Adama’s X-rays later.”
“Sir, I should be here for the examination. Sign off on the…” Helen began.
Cottle cleared his throat. Tearing his eyes away from the bite mark on Kara’s shoulder he met his nurse’s concerned look. “I’ll call you back in if I need you. I want to talk to the Captain alone for a minute.” The nurse seemed torn but she nodded once and turned to leave. “Close the curtains, please, Helen, on your way out.”
When the curtain had rattled closed, Cottle put the cigarette back in his mouth and spoke around it. “Last week you were bouncing Petty Officer Dualla,” he said. “That still on?”
“That was last week.”
“And this is…this week?” He asked, gesturing at Kara.
“No, this is…” Lee broke off, lowering his head. He didn’t know what this was.
Cigarette in two fingers, Cottle wafted a trail of smoke through the air. “Not that ship’s gossip means anything. A man can sow two fields. Or six. But you’re the C.A.G. You have a thing with one of your pilots word generally gets out. And word is you and this one can’t stand the sight of each other these days.”
“That’s not true.”
“Care to clarify?”
“I'm not really sure I can. We're friends. That's never changed.”
Cottle shrugged. Returning the cigarette to his lips, he opened a drawer in Kara’s bedside table. He pushed beyond the packages of cotton balls to retrieve a blunt-tipped metal instrument. Dragging the point of this probe under Kara’s nails, he collected a sample. For a second or so, Cottle peered at the brownish red residue he’d removed. Then, setting the metal probe aside, he sucked in a final lungful of smoke before disposing of his cigarette. A gray haze wreathed him as he leaned against Kara’s bed railing. He studied Lee’s lowered head for a minute.
“I’m going to need you to strip, Captain,” he said at last.
“What?” Lee’s chin came up and he frowned. “I don’t see…”
“She’s marked up. You should be, too. Take off your clothes, please, starting with that reeking coat. How can you stand downwind of yourself? I want to see your chest, your shoulders…maybe the rest of you.”
Lee shifted forward in his chair. His eyes flashed angrily. “I didn’t do anything to Kara she didn’t want me to do. She would have shot me if I’d tried. Yeah, we were tanked but…”
“Don’t talk. Strip,” Cottle said, firmly. “To the waist for now.”
“I didn’t hurt her.”
Cottle sighed and leaned forward to stare into Lee’s eyes. “You had sex?”
“Yes…but…”
“Under the influence of tank?”
“We were fine. Both of us.”
Cottle appeared to consider this for a moment. He shot a glance at Kara and then asked, “Was this the first time you and Lt. Thrace have been intimate?”
It took Lee a moment to answer. He wasn’t sure where this line of questioning was going. “No,” he said after the pause, “No, it wasn’t.”
“Are you lovers? Or just occasional frakking buddies?”
“We…have a history.” Lee said weighing his words. “Like I said…she initiated the…”
“Yes, I’m sure she did.” Cottle interrupted. “But it doesn’t look good from my standpoint, does it? You freely admit that you injected Lt. Thrace with a mood altering drug and then had sex with her. Am I correct?”
“I don’t like what you’re implying.”
“I suspect you’ll like the court martial even less,” Cottle growled, his grey eyes flint hard. “This isn’t some violation of fraternization we’re talking about, Captain.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Lee snarled. “But what you are talking is pure crap. I would never hurt, Kara.”
“Knowing Lt. Thrace’s reputation for vengeance,” Cottle said. “I would advise against letting her regain consciousness if you had. Luckily, you had a lot of drugs at hand.”
“You think I did this on purpose?” Lee shouted, surging out of his chair. “You, filthy minded bastard, you think I…?” He choked on the thought. “Gods, you are insane!” He grabbed Cottle’s smock front and shook him. “Do you have any idea what this is doing to me…if she dies…if I killed her…”
Without seeming to exert any effort Cottle prodded two fingers between Lee's fifth and sixth rib. Pain doubled Lee over. All the air seemed to leave the room. He flailed for the support of the chair back.
“Son of a bitch,” he croaked, sinking into his seat again.
“Men my age fight dirty,” Cottle informed him casually. “Now, you need to settle down before you hurt yourself. I’m talking about a worse case scenario here. What this might look like to an outside tribunal.”
Bent double and gasping, Lee’s eyes flashed with a dangerous light but the pain cleared his head. He drew as deep a breath as he could manage and reined in his temper. “Okay,” he said through tightly clenched teeth. “You think I forced her…or…coerced her?”
“You are Lt. Thrace’s superior officer. You were acting in that capacity on a military assignment. And I’m willing to bet that’s your dental work imprinted in her shoulder. All of that implies sexual misconduct.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I do understand,” Cottle said. “More than you think.” After studying Lee, he shook his head and then crossed to, and opened a nearby cabinet. Reaching in, he extracted a partially full bottle of ambrosia. He retuned to Lee and held the bottle out. “I’ve seen you with her,” he reminded gently, “when her knee blew out. I’m gruff not blind.”
After a stubborn moment, Lee took the offered bottle. Thumbing the cork free, he tossed back a reckless gulp of the hard liquor. It knifed into his esophagus, taking his brain's attention away from his relentlessly throbbing ribs. A second shot and then a third followed the first. He didn’t stop swallowing until his throat seized. Sputtering and coughing, he wiped ambrosia residue from his lips with the back of his bottleneck clenching fist.
“Then why,” he panted finally, “Are you putting me through this?”
“There is the question of her level of reciprocation,” Cottle said.
Lee thought about this for a second and then nodded.
"Good. Now, there is a strict protocol for these cases, Captain. When an officer admits what you’ve already admitted to me, I have no choice but to conduct a physical examination. I can examine Lt. Thrace if you like,” he offered slyly, “But there will be consequences. If I walk over to my supply cabinet and sign out a rape kit that will open an investigation. Even if the results of my examination are negative a tribunal will convene and you will have to answer some very hard questions.”
“I’ve got nothing to hide.”
“Glad to hear it,” Cottle said. He nodded at Kara. “Does she feel the same way?”
Leaning forward to put the ambrosia bottle on the nearby table, Lee looked at Kara’s drawn face. There was indeed a question of reciprocation. If Cottle opened an investigation their entire history would be made public. Any number of things Kara apparently wanted hidden might surface. She had never spoken to him of love, never suggested she’d intended to leave Zak. All of his inside information had come from her fever addled brain. What would she say when she woke up? What would his father say when he learned about the length of their affair? Were they ready for the fall-out? Could they deal with what had happened after Zak’s funeral?
Slumping a little in defeat, Lee sighed and stood. He lowered his chin to his chest as his fingers glided up his coat front. He started pushing at the stiff material but his flexibility was severely curtailed. To spare his ribs he dipped his shoulders so the coat could be pulled by gravity. Shaking free of the sleeves gave him some difficulty until Cottle decided to help him. Together they peeled away the heavy coat and then Lee’s camouflage jacket. As the air hit his bare skin, Lee remembered the scratches Kara had gouged in his arm.
Cottle noted them at once. He pursed his lips and leaned in for a closer examination. Lee braced for the tirade. But after the briefest of studies, Cottle told him to lift his arms. Puzzled, Lee obeyed. The doctor gently drew Lee’s tanks up over his head. Holding the position was agonizing and Lee eased his arms back down to his sides. He glanced at his chest. There was a harlequin pattern of cuts and bruises on his torso, including the black, green and purple swath of skin over his broken ribs.
“None of this is friendly fire?” Cottle muttered as he carefully probed around Lee’s injuries.
“Road rash. I had to ditch the Swan.”
“Well, in that case you’re very lucky to be ambulatory,” Cottle said. “I can’t tell you how many young fools I’ve had to piece back together after Swan accidents.” He ran a blunt fingertip along one of the Kara inflicted scratches on Lee’s arm. “These aren’t defensive wounds. She was pulling you toward her.”
Lee gave a tiny self-deprecating dip of his head. “Yeah.”
“Don’t get cocky, Captain. Willingness means nothing if she was tanked. She could have a grand time and still hold you responsible when she sobers up.”
“She won’t.”
“We’ll see. Based on this, I think I can wait to examine her. Make no mistake though. What you did was illegal. If she wants to press charges…you’re fragged.”
“How long?” Lee said gravely. “Until she wakes up?”
“I’d say several hours, yet. You’ve got time to get those ribs x-rayed. Shower. Change.”
Crossing his arms, Lee shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Well she is,” Cottle said. “We’ve got to do an M.R.I. Put her on a liver cleanse. You might as well get comfortable.” Seeing Lee’s stubbornly set jaw, he grunted and then pointed toward the far side of the med lab. “There’s a shower in my quarters. Just off this bay. Go get cleaned up. I’ll send someone to your rack for a change of clothes. And we’ll get you a bed for the night. Judging by these bruises you qualify.”
END THIS PART
SLIGHT DELAY on PART 6...couldn't quite finish it for Dec. 22. Hope to have it up tomorrow. And then...it will be a Merry Christmas.
Rae
By Rabid1st
BSG – K/L
RATING: PG-13 this part. NC-17 for all.
BETA BABES: Dualbunny, Lilth and Winter_Queen82
SPOILERS: I don’t think this fic has spoilers. But there is speculation of the coupling kind based on S2: Flight of the Phoenix.
TECHNICAL RESOURCES:Wikepedia: hypothalamus and Hypothermia.org
SUMMARY: This is a ‘nugget slang’ fic and a sequel to Shoot Your Shade. Which was a sequel to Burn the Pipe. Lee shot his shade (overreacted) last time out when he learned about Anders and dumped Kara cold. Now the path to togetherness is about to be iced.
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own these characters. They belong to the SciFi Channel, R&D and Ron Moore…whose e-mail address I don’t know. So, I can’t really ask him for permission or anything. But I’m not making any money or perks off of these characters…so please don’t sue me.
BURN THE PIPE:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/rabid1st/65528.html#cutid1
SHOOT YOUR SHADE:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/rabid1st/66968.html#cutid1
PART ONE:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/rabid1st/69278.html#cutid1
PART TWO:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/rabid1st/69431.html#cutid2
PART THREE:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/rabid1st/70767.html#cutid3
PART FOUR:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/rabid1st/71427.html#cutid1
PART FIVE
Zak came for Kara.
In her dream she heard him calling her name and woke to the sound of his voice. Lacking the air to yell, she could only whisper her reply. She couldn’t lift her head. It was too heavy, her tongue too thick. When she opened her eyes, she saw a maelstrom of brightly colored sparks. And then she saw Zak striding toward her. He looked worn and weary. A battered artic coat flared around him. Kara was so happy to see him tears sprang to her eyes. But he seemed upset as he knelt beside her. He striped off his gloves to place a hand on her forehead. After lingering there for a moment, his cool fingers slipped to her throat.
“Gods, you are so hot,” Zak said, bringing her hand to his cheek. “Kara? Can you see me? Do you know who I am?”
His lips moved as he took her pulse but the sound in her ears made no sense. She heard the words ‘fever’ and ‘fire’ and ‘ship.’ Zak shouldn’t fly. He wasn’t ready. She knew that. She needed to warn him, tell him not to take the ship out.
“Zak,” she croaked.
“Agapeta?”
He shouldn’t call her that. Lee would get angry. Lee was going to be so angry anyway, about the sled burning, about her taking the mask off. She didn’t like it when he yelled. It hurt and she couldn’t stop herself from yelling back.
“No…Zak…. Please…listen…”
“It’s me, Kara. It’s Lee,” Zak said.
“Lee’s gone…he’s…I’m not going to…”
He slid an arm under her shoulders and helped her to sit, bracing her against his bent leg. She leaned into him. A sharp sting on her arm drew her attention. She glanced down and through the spinning colors saw a needle flash. He was drugging her. Before she could ask what he’d given her, he pressed the cold lip of a canteen to her mouth. She choked on the splash of water. Sputtering she pushed Zak away. He tipped sideways. Catching his balance with difficulty, he gave a strangled cry as if in pain. Kara found she wasn’t able to sit without his support and slumped to the ground.
“Zak,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“Kara, can you stand? Walk at all?
She tried to press up but fell back and shook her head.
“How the hell am I going to get you to the ship? There was a raider…”
Kara wished he would stop going off on tangents and concentrate. He was holding her hand. She saw he was bleeding from a cut over his eye. Her hand fluttered trying to reach him but her arms felt leaden. It took all of her strength to withdraw her fingers from his grasp. She turned away as he wrapped his arms around her, holding tight. Frustrated by his meandering comments and her swollen tongue, she struggled to finish her apology.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “…about…Lee.”
“It’s not important now.”
She looked back at him. How could he say it wasn’t important? She’d cheated on him with his brother. He hadn’t been cold in the ground when she’d taken what she’d always wanted. Her lungs refused to draw breath. As she gasped, she stared up into her fiancé’s boyishly sweet face. There was something older in his eyes. She realized there was no need to explain. He knew. It occurred to her that maybe he had known all along.
“Kara? I have to get you to the ship. We can’t stay here.”
“No…not the ship…I can’t…Zak,” She went for his weak spot, “I love you so much.”
He winced and she knew he didn’t believe her. She focused her energy, desperate to get her message across, and found the strength to grab his jacket front. “Don’t go, please.”
“Kara, you have to be still.” He dropped to his knees beside her. “I won’t,” he said, gliding his hand over her hair. “I won’t take the ship. I know I’m not ready.”
His voice had a husky distortion as if, Kara thought, he were about to weep. She wanted to comfort him but she was so tired. She could feel herself sinking into grey fog. Zak lovingly caressed her face his fingertips brushing her lower lip. She remembered the gesture well, remembered his gentleness. Lee could be gentle, too, but for some reason seldom was. Zak’s face grew even more indistinct through the tears and fog and sparkling lights clouding her vision. He was such a special person. He loved her and she didn’t deserve him, didn’t deserve to be happy. He could be happy though. He could live a long happy life. If only she could make him understand.
“I thought you were dead,” she rasped. “Lee would never…I…wanted to stay…”
“Kara, don’t. I know you…love me.” He sounded like his heart was breaking.
“Don’t be mad.”
“I’m not. I’m not mad.”
“I should have…told you…”
“You told me,” he assured. “All the time.”
He didn’t understand. He was going to try to be Lee. And he wasn’t Lee. It was going to happen all over again, the bloom of bright light in the sky. He would die never knowing the truth. Never knowing the ship didn’t matter to her.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No…about Lee…
“Kara, it’s okay. I know.” Sniffling, she stilled, blinking up at him in surprise. “We don’t have to talk about it. I know about Lee…what happened. In the kitchen. On the bike trips. At Delphi. I know it wasn’t your fault. You were never…his.”
“Never,” she said in a forlorn whisper.
“Then, this can wait,” he said, scooping her into his arms. “Now, I need you to stay still. I’m going to try to carry you to the Raptor.”
“Not the ship,” she cried trying to wrench away from him. He yelped like a kicked dog. The sharp, pitiful sound made Kara immediately contrite. “What? Zak, what’s wrong?” She turned into him and lifted a trembling hand to touch his shoulder. “Are you hurt?”
“My ribs,” he panted. “They’re broken, Kara. Try not to move for a minute.” He took a few shallow breaths and then said, “Lee…Lee is going to fly.”
Kara tried to blink away the shimmering haze between them. “Lee…had to go…”
“No, he came back. Remember? You’ve seen him.”
Kara thought about it. Had she seen Lee? Yes, in a bright field. She’d sprayed him with water. In the water, as the cold crushed her…he was on the ice. On her. In her. It was all part of her terrible dream. The one where Zak died and then the world ended. She noticed Zak waiting for her response. Her chin bobbed uncertainly.
“I failed basic flight…and then Lee came back,” Zak prompted.
She remembered that. “Yes. You failed…I’m sorry…”
“So, Lee is going to fly us home.”
“Lee is going to fly?”
“I promise, hand to Zeus, I won’t go near the cockpit.”
She smiled up at him and relaxed with a sighed, “Okay.”
“Good. Now, that’s settled, try not to move.”
Gathering her to his chest, he lurched to his feet. An involuntary gasp escaped his tightly clenched teeth. Taking an abbreviated breath, he cursed roundly. Kara didn’t understand what was happening but she tried to stay very still as Zak carried her from the cave. Every step seemed to increase his agony. And he had to take a lot of steps.
After they cleared the cave mouth, they climbed slowly to a ridge above the bay. Kara murmured sweet encouragements. As they crossed the rocky summit, she saw the ship resting in a slight dip below them. The descent was shorter than the climb but it took a very long time. Zak stumbled and slipped and occasionally cried out though he never completely lost his footing. As he skidded down the slope Kara stared at his ear. She studied the swirls and arches with an artist’s eye.
It was a beautiful ear, elegantly curled. The sight of it made her tingle despite her illness. Zak had introduced her to her ear fetish. No two were alike he’d told her. The shell-like patterns were as unique as fingerprints. Under Zak’s tutelage she’d come to understand the ear as a sexual organ. It was sensitive to sound and touch, aware of even slight vibrations. She had traced this ear a hundred times. Sketched it, even committed it to canvas. She knew it intimately.
*********************************************************
Lee kept redefining pain. His ribs throbbed. His chest ached. His breath was so short he was beginning to think he’d punctured a lung. His patience with Kara was wearing very thin. Struggling to keep his balance as he carried her over the uneven footing, Lee had learned more than he cared to about her feeling for his brother. Additionally, every shift of her weight had his ribs grinding over raw nerve endings. She didn't squirm but gravity worked against him. She was heavy, tall and muscular with broad hips and shoulders. The pain became nearly unbearable. He wanted to put her down but he didn’t dare. Didn’t think he could lift her again.
In the early morning he’d imagined guiding a speeding Swan along uneven ice while nursing a few broken ribs was a tolerable definition of pain. Hours later, when he’d crested the horizon in the Raptor his understanding changed. A pillar of smoke smudged the clear sky above Kara’s cave as a Cylon raider slowly circled. Seeing it, Lee knew she was dead. He’d arrived a few minutes too late. Physical pain paled next to the deeper wound of grief.
Too stunned to weep, he’d thumbed the release on a battery of missiles and obliterated the raider. Fiery shrapnel was still raining from the sky when Lee completed his skidding and reckless landing. He’d bolted from the Raptor and raced down the ridge to the cave. The lancing pain in his side had been all but forgotten. Expecting to find nothing but a smoldering ruin where the cave had been, he'd very nearly fallen to his knees in gratitude when he'd discovered the remains of the charred sled and Kara’s still form beyond it.
He’d called her name, heard her try to respond as he rushed to her side. Finding her pulse, weak but constant, knowing she was alive had shot his heart rate into the red zone. Color had bloomed in the world again. Kara hadn’t been captured or shot, and Lee thanked the Gods for that, but she was in bad shape, breathing raggedly and burning with fever. He’d rocked her in his arms for a moment and she’d called him Zak.
I love you so much.
The words slipped easily off her tongue. And Lee knew this is what it meant to be Zak, to be loved.
It was a cruel and unexpected blow. And it added heartbreak and jealous doubt to Lee’s other agonies. Every word Kara uttered after those fateful ones painted a clearer picture of how hopeless his devotion was. She still loved Zak. Would always love him. Would always regret her attraction to Lee. Lee had no doubts about her wanting him. But she wanted so many people. He couldn’t adjust to being one more hot fly boy on a long list. It wasn’t nearly enough. But Kara couldn’t give him her heart because it still belonged to his brother. All she wanted was Zak’s forgiveness. Every step Lee took drilled the message deeper into his mind. They had betrayed Zak’s memory for nothing...for a hard bounce.
Lee had no idea how he managed to reach the Raptor. The journey blurred in his mind. But as he stood at the foot of the steep wing of the ship he knew he wouldn’t be able to climb it carrying Kara. She had complied with his stricture against moving. Her head rested against his shoulder. Shifting her weight onto his braced knee, Lee panted out some of his pain.
“Kara,” he gasped. “I need you to help me. I need you to climb with me, okay?”
“You have the sexiest ears,” she whispered, tracing a fingertip up the ramp of his earlobe from his cheek.
The touch tickled. Lee jumped and immediately regretted the sudden movement. An invisible horse kicked him in the chest. His broken ribs and his crushed hopes ganged up on him, robbing him of breath. He pushed Kara to her feet. She staggered, clinging to him and he guided her up the wing of the Raptor. They stumbled through the hatch. The communications station seat was the closest. Thrusting Kara into it, Lee draped over her seatback, fighting the urge to vomit. She tipped her head back to stare thoughtfully up at him. She seemed completely coherent but Lee knew her clear gaze was an illusion. She was seeing Zak.
“Sexy,” she breathed, reaching a trembling hand out. She trailed her fingertips down the center of his chest. “Like the rest of you.” she pronounced. Her breathless state made her voice unintentionally alluring. “I think you’re the sexiest man alive.” For some reason her fever-addled brain found this extremely funny. She snickered and then dissolved into a paroxysm of coughing, pressing the knuckles of one hand against her mouth. “It’s not...just...because there are...hardly any men left...either,” she managed to say between hacks. “I thought...thought it the first time I saw you.”
Lee squeezed his eyes shut. He really couldn’t go on pretending he was Zak. It was killing him by inches. “Kara…” he began wearily as he crossed the few feet to the med-kit, secured on the far side of the cabin. “Please…try not to talk.”
Popping the clasp on the med-kit, Lee studied the available drugs. Kara had a fever and her lungs were full of fluid. She needed two different medicines but the color-coded labels told him they were incompatible. He had to choose one. His hand hovered uncertainly over the analgesic syringe. He wanted a shot. Between lifting the Swan twice and carrying Kara he’d definitely torn some cartilage. But Kara needed the analgesic more. A fever as high as hers was would be killing off brain cells.
He downed a few willow bark tablets, grimacing against the bitter taste as he chewed them. The ones he’d taken earlier hadn’t even blunted his pain but he had to get Kara’s fever down. As long as she was drawing air, Lee figured they could wait on the other medication. He waited for her to stop quaking with the laughter inspired cough. As soon as she was still, he jabbed her with the needle, injecting the full shot of analgesic.
She twitched and then seemed to relax a little. Lee squatted by her knee, peering into her face as he started hooking her up to the Raptor’s life-support system. Her oxygen levels were low but not life threatening yet. A rich air mix would help augment the work of her damaged lungs. When he tried to snap the flight harness across her body, she foiled his attempt by leaning toward him.
“Zak…knows…about Delphi.”
“Kara,” Lee sighed, shaking his lowered head as he adjusted straps.
“Lee,” she mocked him, shaking her head in return. The denial made her moan and clutch her temple. “Oh, I'm dizzy.”
She'd said his name. Lee felt a tingle of renewed energy race through his veins. He glanced up, meeting her glazed eyes. “Kara, do you know who I am?”
“Lee? Captain Adama, sir,” she said, squinting against the spinning. “You have the sexiest ears, sir,” she confided drunkenly. “I thought that when...from...the first time I saw you. In the brig. On Caprica. I bet he’s a great lay…I thought.” Her eyes closed and she sank into the seat, exhausted by this revelation but murmuring, “No two are alike.” Her hand became too heavy to hold at her temple. She let it fall into her lap. “I feel…funny, Lee. What did you give me?”
“Something for your fever,” Lee said, returning to his tasks. “What about Zak?” he asked, wondering as he did if he was going to have to seek professional help for this masochistic streak. “You still love him?”
“He’s okay,” she sighed. “He told me not to worry. He understands…”
“I wish I did.”
“I can’t marry him…”
Lee thought he must have misheard. “What?”
“Oh…he knows…” her voice was a thin thread of sound. Lee took her hand. It felt fragile in his grasp like a newly hatched bird.
“You aren’t going to marry Zak?”
“I told him about you, Lee. I told him…we’re…we’re in love…okay?”
Probably as some kind of practical joke, one of the Gods had apparently turned Lee’s insides into butterflies. He could feel all their tiny wings beating and thought the combined lift might let him walk on air. He tightened his grip on Kara fingers.
“Kara? Agapeta? Can you hear me?”
He cupped her cheek, touched his thumb to her lips. Her eyelids fluttered but she didn’t open them or speak again. Lee combed his free hand into Kara’s hair. She didn’t react at all. He placed his palm on her chest as his eyes went to her life monitor. Her heartbeat was sluggish. Her breathing was so shallow he couldn’t feel her breast rise and fall. Alarmed, he let go of her hand and finished fastening the sensor pads to her wrist and neck. The Raptor’s life support system churned out data for him.
Kara’s vital signs were dipping into the medical alert zones. Her temperature had dropped. Her blood oxygen levels bordered on critical. Lee pulled the oxygen mask cord, releasing it from its compartment over Kara’s head. He covered her mouth and nose and dialed up a rich air mix. As he watched the saturation point of her blood slowly rise a series of sonic booms drew his gaze to the ceiling.
“Frakking Cylons,” he spat.
Kara needed a doctor. No tin can with delusions of independent thought was going to stop him from getting her back to Galactica. He sprinted for the pilot’s chair. If he didn’t lift off they’d be sitting ducks and the last thing they needed was another delay. He strapped in. Buckling his harness with one hand, he punched diagnostics with the other. Keeping an impatient eye on the read outs, he primed the weapons, while the thrusters reheated. Thankfully, this Raptor had been refitted with more than enough fire power. The red line climbed quickly into the safe zone. Again, Karios was with him. His engines hadn’t had time to cool. If he’d had to prime from a dead stop he wouldn’t have made it into the air.
Green lights flashed on every panel. As the first of the Cylons crested the horizon, Lee sent the Raptor into the sky, firing as he climbed. His opening battery took out an enemy ship. The others veered out of formation. Ignoring every flight school precaution, Lee treated the Raptor like a viper and flipped it end for end. It wasn't designed for that kind of manuever. The ripping G-forces filled his vision with stars. He punched the afterburners to stabilize the Raptor's recovery. The ship’s engines sputtered and for a second failed to catch. But the Raptor was a work horse of a vessel. It made the turn and started to climb. If they could clear atmosphere, they could jump. This wasn’t the time to stand and fight.
Lee calculated the distance to the stratosphere, rounding up in his head and adding on a few minutes to spare. Fairly certain of his figures, he started the FTL drive calculator humming. A cylon ship shot across his bow. Lee banked sharply to the right and blasted at the rusty bastard, winging him. The other two raced with him to the edge of space. Lee flew a zigzagging course and stayed one spray of laser fire ahead of the enemy. The star field opened before him and he caught a glimpse of a distant base star. He'd roared straight into the middle of an entire squadron of raiders.
They broke away from him, wheeling to fire, and the Raptor jumped.
As soon as they blinked in at the rendezvous point, Lee slapped the emergency beacon.
It took too long to get a reply, too long to be cleared through security and dock, and far too long to get Kara to the med lab.
By the time Lee completed his hands-on approach he knew Kara was in trouble. She was completely unresponsive. Her vital signs had dropped to a comatose level. Her respiration was labored. Lee crouched by her side, waiting for the ground crew to haul them up to the hanger. He kept glancing at the Raptor’s hatch, willing it to sense pressure and open the damned airlock. As soon as the hull cracked, he yelled for medics. Three or four of them swarmed into the small cabin. They started asking him questions.
He tried to think clearly but the world had taken on a dream-like quality. He kept urging the medics to hurry, to help, but they kept dawdling and asking him if he was hurt, if he could explain what had happened to Kara one more time. Lee’s patience ran out long before their curiosity. His chest felt lead lined. His head was spinning and he had zero tolerance for the cheers and congratulatory slaps on the back from his crewmates. He pushed people from his path as he exited the Raptor to follow Kara’s stretcher. Someone, possibly his father, shouted his name from the catwalk but he ignored the summons. He needed to know Kara was okay before he could think of anything else.
******************************************************
Cottle, a stub of a cigarette dangling from his lips, glanced over the emergency response team’s report. Setting the papers aside after a quick perusal, he plugged a stethoscope into his ears and listened to Kara’s breathing. What he heard made him pucker his brow. His hand slipped down to her wrist even as he glanced at the monitors over the bed. He liked to count heartbeats. He never quite trusted the machinery. As he counted, he cast a sidelong look at Lee.
‘Stims,’ he thought. ‘Too many. Probably on top of tank.’
He ground out his cigarette and indicated a bedside chair. “Sit down before you fall down, Captain,” he said. Removing the stethoscope from his ears, he let it hook around his neck.
“How is she?” Lee asked for the eighth time, ignoring the offer of a seat. “Shouldn’t you be doing something?”
“I am doing something,” Cottle grumbled. He beckoned to a swarthy, efficiently coifed woman on the far side of the room. “Right, now, I’m getting you a nurse.”
“I don’t need a nurse,” Lee said.
Pointing at a splatter of crimson on Kara’s sheets, Cottle said, “You’re bleeding all over my sterile environment. Then, there’s the smell. You not only pace like a caged lion, you reek like one, too. Take off your coat. Sit. Try to relax. You aren’t helping her.”
Drawing a penlight from his pocket, the doctor turned back to his sedated patient. He lifted Kara’s eyelids to check her pupil dilation. What he saw made him mumble a few unintelligible notes into a tiny recorder. Lee bounced like a prize fighter, tattered duster shadowing his movements. Cottle clicked the penlight off and returned it to his smock pocket. His blunt fingers gripped Kara’s neck. He gently manipulated her vertebrae and then slowly turned her head from side to side.
“There’s some bruising near the right temple,” Cottle remarked. “Did you hit her?”
“What…? No, I did not hit her…what kind of ridiculous question….”
“It’s a small ship, Captain. You want to avoid embarrassing questions don’t make a habit out of decking your pilots in the hanger bay.” Addressing the nurse who had just appeared at his elbow, the doctor said, “Helen, stitch up that cut over the Captain’s eye. Then, we’ll need to X-ray his ribs.”
“Frak off,” Lee told the nurse, when she reached for his arm. She turned a silent appeal on the doctor.
“Sit,” Cottle ordered, pointing to the chair again. “Or I’ll call your father down here.” Lee reluctantly sat and the doctor praised him like an errant puppy. “Good, boy. Now, tell me what you gave Lt. Thrace to bring on this reaction.”
“Tetrazinc for her lungs. M-33P for the fever.”
“Not willow bark?”
Lee shook his head, practically wrenching the needle from Nurse Helen’s fingers. Her fresh stitches ripped free. Lee grunted. Squinting, he gingerly touched the corner of his eye.
“No. She was delirious,” he told the doctor as he blinked away the sting. “I thought I should get her fever down as quickly as possible.”
“Mission accomplished,” Cottle sighed, casting a rueful glower at the monitor flashing Kara’s perilously low body temperature. He’d never favored putting hard drugs in the hands of viper pilots but so far he could find nothing to fault in Lee’s treatment. “No allergies you know of?”
“You’re her doctor.”
“And you’re her C.A.G.,” Cottle snapped. “It’s your job to have every pilot’s essential medical information in your head. Anything new I don’t know about?”
“Nothing new. Pine nuts. That’s it.”
Cottle shook his head. Sweeping Kara’s hair back from her brow he examined her face probing with his fingertips. He opened and closed her jaw, checked her teeth and then massaged her scalp until he found something. He glanced at Lee. “She’s got a sizable bump here.”
Remembering, Lee grimaced. “Oh, frak! I forgot. She hit her head on the ice.” Combing one hand into his hair, he tugged worriedly at the short thatch. The nurse stopped stitching to glare at him.
“Sir, please, you need to hold still. I’m almost done.”
“I pushed her out of the water. And she hit her head.”
“But she came around? Was lucid?”
“Yes, sir,” Lee said. He started to nod, glanced at the nurse and thought better of it. “She seemed fine.”
“Did you read the M-33P label?”
“Green. It was green. I couldn’t give her the other one, the one for her lungs because it was red and you can’t mix them.”
“It’s also contraindicated in the event of concussion.”
Eyes fixed on Lee’s face, the doctor ran a hand down Kara’s arm to her wrist. He lifted her hand, gently turning it until he was cradling her palm. Lee was trying to remember what the label had said when the nurse stilled in the middle of tying off his stitches. Her stiffness drew Lee’s wandering attention back to the present. He followed the line of the nurse’s gaze to Kara’s arm and, for the first time, noticed the bruises on her wrist. The pattern was clear, four dark stains where his fingers had branded her creamy skin.
“Anything else you’d like to tell me, Captain?”
Lee had nothing useful to say. He spread his palms wide in a helpless gesture. Cottle continued to stare, tilting his head and lifting a caterpillar brow, expectantly.
“So,” Cottle prompted when Lee remained silent, “You tanked early and dived into the water after Lt. Thrace. What happens next during your who-gives-a-frak-about-the-regulations day?”
Lee started talking. “I held her by the wrist,” he began. “In the water. I couldn’t feel anything…my fingers were numb…” His voice faded out as he remembered Kara’s dead weight dragging on his arm. He lost track of what he was saying for a moment but, after clearing his throat, he picked up the narrative. “It took her awhile to wake up.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know. I got her off the ice. Found shelter. It was hours before she was fully awake.”
“Hours?” Cottle sounded shocked. He spoke into his recorder again. “We’ll need an M.R.I. Head trauma. Possible skull fracture. Concussion.”
“It was snow sleep,” Lee protested. “She was in and out of it and half-frozen.” Squeezing his eyes closed, for a moment, he went back to his chronological storyline. “I gave her the tank. She threw-up, twice. Just seawater. And…she was disoriented; I guess…I can’t really say for sure. She didn’t say anything about her head”
“Was her breathing labored? Did she cough? Wheeze? Have trouble talking?”
“No. Not at first. When she woke up she wanted to fight. I would never have…I wasn’t thinking about it…I mean…if she’d said anything, I would have…but….” Running out of breath, Lee paused to collect his scattered thoughts. “She started struggling for air and I put her on the respirator.”
“Respirator?” Cottle glanced at his notes again. “You didn’t mention the respirator. I thought you gave her Tetrazinc.”
“Later,” Lee said. “We…lost…the medkit. And I had to go. I couldn’t get her medicine until after the mission. And there was a fire while I was gone. She must have inhaled smoke…on top of the water before….”
Lee stopped talking. He knew he wasn’t making much sense. Suddenly exhausted and aware of the pain in every part of his body, he stared mistily at Cottle. Nurse Helen snipped the thread on his stitches and sealed them with a strip of tape.
“Why did you tank early?” Cottle asked. His voice was kind, making no judgments.
“I had to...the ice was cracking. She wasn't going to make it.” Lee took a stabilizing breath and found the courage to ask, “How long before she wakes up?”
The doctor shook his head. “I can’t answer that, Captain. The medication in a standard respirator is C-619. Red labeled. You shouldn’t mix it with M-33P. My guess is this is an overdose induced coma. You gave her too many drugs, too close together.”
Fear stretched Lee’s vocal cords violin-string tight. His mouth moved but no sound escaped. Then he squeaked, “I did this?” He wanted to scream or lash out but a spine-numbing weariness hit him and he couldn’t even move.
“You weren’t thinking clearly,” Cottle remarked absently. “But she has the constitution of an ox. If we can keep her stable until the drugs wear off, she should recover.”
Nurse Helen shot a repressive glare at Cottle as she gathered up her supplies. The doctor seemed oblivious to Lee’s distress. He was listening to Kara’s lungs again, frowning. Apparently, dissatisfied with the sounds, he pushed the wooly bulk of her sweater aside, exposing her shoulders and upper chest. He stilled, staring. There was a clear imprint of a bite mark on Kara’s right shoulder. Nurse Helen gave a tiny gasp. Lee glanced up and then gaped in open-mouthed disbelief.
He knew what he was looking at. He remembered inflicting the bite and yet, it seemed like it couldn’t have actually happened. Denial came easily to his mind and his lips.
“That’s…it’s not what it looks like…”
Cottle released a long-suffering sigh. Some days he hated this job. Lately those days had coincided with the causality fall-out from Colonel Tigh’s so-called missions. Studying Lee through narrowed eyes, Cottle took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He knocked the pack against his knuckle, freeing a single smoke and then patted himself down for his lighter. When he found it, he lit up and drew in a few long puffs. Contemplating both of his patients, he chewed on his filter tip, moving the cigarette from one corner of his mouth to the other. Then, using thumb and forefinger, he pinched it into the curl of his hand.
“Helen,” he said gruffly without looking towards his nurse. “I want you to go check on Mr. Agathon. Make sure he’s coming out of the anesthesia. We’ll get Captain Adama’s X-rays later.”
“Sir, I should be here for the examination. Sign off on the…” Helen began.
Cottle cleared his throat. Tearing his eyes away from the bite mark on Kara’s shoulder he met his nurse’s concerned look. “I’ll call you back in if I need you. I want to talk to the Captain alone for a minute.” The nurse seemed torn but she nodded once and turned to leave. “Close the curtains, please, Helen, on your way out.”
When the curtain had rattled closed, Cottle put the cigarette back in his mouth and spoke around it. “Last week you were bouncing Petty Officer Dualla,” he said. “That still on?”
“That was last week.”
“And this is…this week?” He asked, gesturing at Kara.
“No, this is…” Lee broke off, lowering his head. He didn’t know what this was.
Cigarette in two fingers, Cottle wafted a trail of smoke through the air. “Not that ship’s gossip means anything. A man can sow two fields. Or six. But you’re the C.A.G. You have a thing with one of your pilots word generally gets out. And word is you and this one can’t stand the sight of each other these days.”
“That’s not true.”
“Care to clarify?”
“I'm not really sure I can. We're friends. That's never changed.”
Cottle shrugged. Returning the cigarette to his lips, he opened a drawer in Kara’s bedside table. He pushed beyond the packages of cotton balls to retrieve a blunt-tipped metal instrument. Dragging the point of this probe under Kara’s nails, he collected a sample. For a second or so, Cottle peered at the brownish red residue he’d removed. Then, setting the metal probe aside, he sucked in a final lungful of smoke before disposing of his cigarette. A gray haze wreathed him as he leaned against Kara’s bed railing. He studied Lee’s lowered head for a minute.
“I’m going to need you to strip, Captain,” he said at last.
“What?” Lee’s chin came up and he frowned. “I don’t see…”
“She’s marked up. You should be, too. Take off your clothes, please, starting with that reeking coat. How can you stand downwind of yourself? I want to see your chest, your shoulders…maybe the rest of you.”
Lee shifted forward in his chair. His eyes flashed angrily. “I didn’t do anything to Kara she didn’t want me to do. She would have shot me if I’d tried. Yeah, we were tanked but…”
“Don’t talk. Strip,” Cottle said, firmly. “To the waist for now.”
“I didn’t hurt her.”
Cottle sighed and leaned forward to stare into Lee’s eyes. “You had sex?”
“Yes…but…”
“Under the influence of tank?”
“We were fine. Both of us.”
Cottle appeared to consider this for a moment. He shot a glance at Kara and then asked, “Was this the first time you and Lt. Thrace have been intimate?”
It took Lee a moment to answer. He wasn’t sure where this line of questioning was going. “No,” he said after the pause, “No, it wasn’t.”
“Are you lovers? Or just occasional frakking buddies?”
“We…have a history.” Lee said weighing his words. “Like I said…she initiated the…”
“Yes, I’m sure she did.” Cottle interrupted. “But it doesn’t look good from my standpoint, does it? You freely admit that you injected Lt. Thrace with a mood altering drug and then had sex with her. Am I correct?”
“I don’t like what you’re implying.”
“I suspect you’ll like the court martial even less,” Cottle growled, his grey eyes flint hard. “This isn’t some violation of fraternization we’re talking about, Captain.”
“Yeah, I got that,” Lee snarled. “But what you are talking is pure crap. I would never hurt, Kara.”
“Knowing Lt. Thrace’s reputation for vengeance,” Cottle said. “I would advise against letting her regain consciousness if you had. Luckily, you had a lot of drugs at hand.”
“You think I did this on purpose?” Lee shouted, surging out of his chair. “You, filthy minded bastard, you think I…?” He choked on the thought. “Gods, you are insane!” He grabbed Cottle’s smock front and shook him. “Do you have any idea what this is doing to me…if she dies…if I killed her…”
Without seeming to exert any effort Cottle prodded two fingers between Lee's fifth and sixth rib. Pain doubled Lee over. All the air seemed to leave the room. He flailed for the support of the chair back.
“Son of a bitch,” he croaked, sinking into his seat again.
“Men my age fight dirty,” Cottle informed him casually. “Now, you need to settle down before you hurt yourself. I’m talking about a worse case scenario here. What this might look like to an outside tribunal.”
Bent double and gasping, Lee’s eyes flashed with a dangerous light but the pain cleared his head. He drew as deep a breath as he could manage and reined in his temper. “Okay,” he said through tightly clenched teeth. “You think I forced her…or…coerced her?”
“You are Lt. Thrace’s superior officer. You were acting in that capacity on a military assignment. And I’m willing to bet that’s your dental work imprinted in her shoulder. All of that implies sexual misconduct.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I do understand,” Cottle said. “More than you think.” After studying Lee, he shook his head and then crossed to, and opened a nearby cabinet. Reaching in, he extracted a partially full bottle of ambrosia. He retuned to Lee and held the bottle out. “I’ve seen you with her,” he reminded gently, “when her knee blew out. I’m gruff not blind.”
After a stubborn moment, Lee took the offered bottle. Thumbing the cork free, he tossed back a reckless gulp of the hard liquor. It knifed into his esophagus, taking his brain's attention away from his relentlessly throbbing ribs. A second shot and then a third followed the first. He didn’t stop swallowing until his throat seized. Sputtering and coughing, he wiped ambrosia residue from his lips with the back of his bottleneck clenching fist.
“Then why,” he panted finally, “Are you putting me through this?”
“There is the question of her level of reciprocation,” Cottle said.
Lee thought about this for a second and then nodded.
"Good. Now, there is a strict protocol for these cases, Captain. When an officer admits what you’ve already admitted to me, I have no choice but to conduct a physical examination. I can examine Lt. Thrace if you like,” he offered slyly, “But there will be consequences. If I walk over to my supply cabinet and sign out a rape kit that will open an investigation. Even if the results of my examination are negative a tribunal will convene and you will have to answer some very hard questions.”
“I’ve got nothing to hide.”
“Glad to hear it,” Cottle said. He nodded at Kara. “Does she feel the same way?”
Leaning forward to put the ambrosia bottle on the nearby table, Lee looked at Kara’s drawn face. There was indeed a question of reciprocation. If Cottle opened an investigation their entire history would be made public. Any number of things Kara apparently wanted hidden might surface. She had never spoken to him of love, never suggested she’d intended to leave Zak. All of his inside information had come from her fever addled brain. What would she say when she woke up? What would his father say when he learned about the length of their affair? Were they ready for the fall-out? Could they deal with what had happened after Zak’s funeral?
Slumping a little in defeat, Lee sighed and stood. He lowered his chin to his chest as his fingers glided up his coat front. He started pushing at the stiff material but his flexibility was severely curtailed. To spare his ribs he dipped his shoulders so the coat could be pulled by gravity. Shaking free of the sleeves gave him some difficulty until Cottle decided to help him. Together they peeled away the heavy coat and then Lee’s camouflage jacket. As the air hit his bare skin, Lee remembered the scratches Kara had gouged in his arm.
Cottle noted them at once. He pursed his lips and leaned in for a closer examination. Lee braced for the tirade. But after the briefest of studies, Cottle told him to lift his arms. Puzzled, Lee obeyed. The doctor gently drew Lee’s tanks up over his head. Holding the position was agonizing and Lee eased his arms back down to his sides. He glanced at his chest. There was a harlequin pattern of cuts and bruises on his torso, including the black, green and purple swath of skin over his broken ribs.
“None of this is friendly fire?” Cottle muttered as he carefully probed around Lee’s injuries.
“Road rash. I had to ditch the Swan.”
“Well, in that case you’re very lucky to be ambulatory,” Cottle said. “I can’t tell you how many young fools I’ve had to piece back together after Swan accidents.” He ran a blunt fingertip along one of the Kara inflicted scratches on Lee’s arm. “These aren’t defensive wounds. She was pulling you toward her.”
Lee gave a tiny self-deprecating dip of his head. “Yeah.”
“Don’t get cocky, Captain. Willingness means nothing if she was tanked. She could have a grand time and still hold you responsible when she sobers up.”
“She won’t.”
“We’ll see. Based on this, I think I can wait to examine her. Make no mistake though. What you did was illegal. If she wants to press charges…you’re fragged.”
“How long?” Lee said gravely. “Until she wakes up?”
“I’d say several hours, yet. You’ve got time to get those ribs x-rayed. Shower. Change.”
Crossing his arms, Lee shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Well she is,” Cottle said. “We’ve got to do an M.R.I. Put her on a liver cleanse. You might as well get comfortable.” Seeing Lee’s stubbornly set jaw, he grunted and then pointed toward the far side of the med lab. “There’s a shower in my quarters. Just off this bay. Go get cleaned up. I’ll send someone to your rack for a change of clothes. And we’ll get you a bed for the night. Judging by these bruises you qualify.”
END THIS PART
SLIGHT DELAY on PART 6...couldn't quite finish it for Dec. 22. Hope to have it up tomorrow. And then...it will be a Merry Christmas.
Rae