Word Count: 1,120
Date: 11/7/05
Series: S2
Rating: K+
Category: Relationships
Pairing/Focus: Kara/Adama (no, not that way!)
Warnings: pure introspection - analytical emotion at its worst!
Summary: I have had trouble finding words for the emotions so
evident in the reunion scene at the beginning of Home 2 - but it's one of those
things that I won't be able to move past until I exorcise it with writing. This
story will probably be assimilated into the "Perspectives" series, if
I ever get so far as the second season, but for my own sanity it has to be
written tonight.
Spoilers/Disclaimers: Essentially everything through Home, part
2; I own nothing - not even my own house! But, damn, I sure as hell have the
payment!!
She didn't know how to feel.
Kara Thrace looked at the man who was - for all intents and purposes, and in her heart if not the law - her father, and she had no idea how he felt about her anymore. None.
At all.
Once she would have looked at him with certainty. Mere months before, she would have known that he was the one man who would champion her to anyone, get her out of any difficulty, and love her in a way that a child can only dream of being loved. It was just who he was... she was part of his crew, and his crew was his family. She was even more closely family, because she should have been. She would have been, but she had screwed that up, too.
It wasn't that she doubted his love, or the depth of his normal feelings for those around him, but the bottom line was that she had deserted him when he'd needed her, and even though it hadn't been under the horrifying conditions of the first time she'd been lost in battle - conditions that she had intensified by truths that should never have been secrets - she knew by the look in his eyes that he'd been through hell. And she would admit full responsibility for doing it. She always seemed to be doing that to those around her... those she cared for. She never seemed to be able to be good for anyone.
She watched as William Adama held his son with a look close to rapture on his face, tears openly visible to all those around him. He didn't give a shit, and it was clear. The sight tightened something in Kara until she wasn't sure she would be able to watch him, to see this and know that she wasn't a part of it. What she wanted more than anything was to step forward into his arms, to join Lee in the family hug and feel as though she were once more a part of them.
She wanted it more than she wanted to breathe.
But Kara didn't move. She stood and watched for a timeless moment, and for just that time she allowed pleasure for her best friend to override her own insecurities and sadness. Lee deserved this. He deserved the reunion with his father, and for once he wasn't fighting it. Kara didn't know whether to be happier for him, or for the Old Man. This was as it should be - as it had been so very long ago.
As it had not been for ages; not since years before the beginning of the frakking war. That had been her fault, too.
So she watched and she praised the gods, and she longed to be a part of it herself even as she kept herself from sight. She dreaded the moment he would see her almost as much as she wanted it to happen. She was terrified of what he would say, and of what she deserved to hear. She was petrified. She was mortified.
Something so close to a sob shook the air as William Adama pulled back a moment and then hugged his son tightly once more. Kara caught a glimpse of the smile on Lee's face before he tucked it into the crook of his father's shoulder and neck, and the last strain she was feeling was finally released. Lee wasn't going to fight this, and he wasn't going to pretend it wasn't happening. Whatever happened to her, and whatever happened with humanity in general, at least she would know that the damage she had done to father and son had been healed.
The Old Man spoke a word or two to the President, but Kara didn't hear what was said. It seemed pleasant enough, and that gave Kara hope. If he wasn't on a rampage, maybe there was hope for them. Maybe he could forgive. Maybe the world would be right again. Maybe... but Kara seriously doubted it.
Then Lee stepped back and turned towards her, and she knew that his father's gaze would follow. The time had come to run or face him, and only the fact that his eyes had met hers kept her standing. Inch by inch, with no confidence at all, she moved towards him.
And then she stopped.
Stopped.
She couldn't do it. She couldn't run, and yet she couldn't move forward. Despite the remnants of the smile that his face held following his reunion with his son, he still looked far more intimidating than she wanted to deal with. It was something she couldn't face.
She had disappointed him, deserted him, and now he held her heart in his hands.
He held her soul in his hands.
But he didn't turn away. When she stopped moving, he started, and his steps were neither tentative nor angry. In fact, the expression on is face might have passed for pleasure if she hadn't known that he must be furious with her.
Closer. He stepped closer still, and she felt herself begin to shake. There was an obscene humor in that, and it was all she could do not to laugh hysterically at the prospect. Kara Thrace was shaking in her boots, and he hadn't even said a word to her yet. Wouldn't the nuggets be impressed?
She shook more yet when his arm moved. She didn't expect to be hit - he wasn't her father - but neither did she expect the tender expression that overcame him as he brushed her bangs so gently from her eyes, tucking them behind one ear as he had so many times before. Then his hand remained, warm and course and gentle. She could feel the caress of his fingertips, and the warmth that radiated from his palm. The gesture spoke of familiarity, and acceptance, and most of all forgiveness.
And it was there in his eyes, as well. Forgiveness. Love.
She held her breath, willing herself not to cry. It wouldn't do to cry; not in front of everyone. So she gave him a wobbly almost-grin that was far from the traditional Starbuck smirk, because it was the best she had and she knew that he'd understand. She knew he would forgive that as well, because it was what he was, and what he did. It was what fathers were for.
And then someone stepped forward... a woman he was less happy to see. Kara hated her then, for all that she had done for them on Caprica. Sharon - this Sharon - was stealing the moment from her, and Kara wanted it back.
But William Adama had already turned, and his face had hardened.
And the moment was lost.