BSG Fic - Part Four -- "zero-dark-thirty"
Jul. 4th, 2005 04:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
somedaybitch2261 words
rating: the letter after Q, for, uhm, stuff
spoilers: Helo/Boomer...post episode 13
disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica, NBC/Universal, not mine, blah blah blah
archiving: without permission makes me very, very cranky
summary: zero-dark-thirty...the shadows between midnight and dawn
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
x-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
bsg_creative
_____
"We goin' the long way for a reason?" Helo asked it almost to himself as he followed Starbuck through the starboard hangar bay.
"Yeah. Your ass got fat at home," she deadpanned.
Helo mocked reaching for his gun as he cast her a sideways smile. The smile slipped from his face seconds later when Starbuck stopped and he followed her gaze across the bay. Tyrol was sitting on the wing of a viper, its port engine housing removed, tinkering with a component. "Kara", he warned.
"Karl." She matched his tone and the glint of warning in his eyes.
He sighed, pressing fingers above the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to delay the headache he felt coming. What the frak did she expect him to say? Gee, Chief, sorry I'm in love with your toaster girlfriend's clone? It's not like she's cheatin' on ya, buddy.
"You did this on purpose,” he accused halfheartedly.
She shook her head. "Hoping he wouldn't be here again, actually."
"Again?"
"Yeah," she replied sadly. "Found him in here last night."
"What were you doin' in here?"
"Ditchin’ the babysitters."
"Nice.” Helo laughed softly. “The XO's gonna ground your ass for life, Starbuck." He watched her smile fade at that. "What?"
"Apollo told him to reinstate me."
"Told him," he echoed.
She nodded absently. "In sickbay. Loudly."
He saw her wince at the memory. "They had a fight?"
"Nearly."
"Apollo told Tigh," Helo muttered to himself. "Frak me."
"The bastard made me CAG."
Helo almost choked. "Which bastard?"
She flashed him a quick smile. "Apollo. Fleet needed a CAG. He understood why it couldn't be him. Consequences for his actions. Tigh needed to listen. Blah, blah, blah." She paused, rubbing a hand across her face. "I may have to kill him."
"Yeah, that'll happen," he muttered softly.
"What?"
"Nothing. Didn't say anything." Helo put his hands up innocently and just shook his head.
Starbuck glared at him for a long moment, then smiled. "Evening Chief," she said, pitching her voice to reach across the hangar bay. Tyrol looked up like a small animal caught in bright lights.
"Bitch." Helo ground the word out between clenched teeth. She gave him a sarcastic smile in reply as she started across the bay. He sighed, shaking his head, then moved slowly to follow. He took the time to study the Chief, noticing for the first time the dark circles under his eyes, the scattered scrapes and mild burns from the raptor crash on Kobol, the way the Chief looked so, broken. The haunted look in the man’s eyes - the not understanding what sins committed had earned such vengeance from the Gods - Helo recognized it in his own.
Starbuck had already engaged Tyrol in a diverting conversation about the viper he was tinkering with by the time Helo reached them. He stood quietly off to one side, unable to find words that weren’t trite, hoping to escape actually having to speak. Starbuck caught his eye and he knew he was frakked. She glared. He shifted uncomfortably.
“Chief.”
Helo didn’t miss the slight tightening of the other man’s shoulders, saw knuckles turn white around the wrench.
“Sir.” Tyrol put the wrench down and pulled a rag out of his back pocket, slowly wiping his hands clean as if it was the most important thing he’d ever done. He tried to say something else, had to clear his throat twice. “I’m uh…it’s good to you have you back, sir.”
“Thanks, Chief. I missed your bitching.” Helo managed a lopsided grin.
Tyrol raised an eyebrow at that and did his best to hide his own smile. “I don’t bitch. Sir.”
“Right. Whatever.” Helo paused, shot a questioning look to Starbuck and got a nod. “Look, me and Starbuck are gonna throw some back, and uh, I’d appreciate your help kicking her ass at cards. You in?”
He saw Tyrol hesitate, start to withdraw. A glance told him Starbuck caught it too.
“Grease monkey here ain’t got the juice, junior,” she said tauntingly.
Helo laughed. “You lettin’ her get away with that, Chief?”
Tyrol straightened up. “No sir."
____
"She was twelve...maybe," Starbuck playfully accused.
Helo laughed softly, ignoring the feigned looks of shock and cat calls from his peers. He locked eyes with his tormentor and took a slow pull of ambrosia before answering. "She was twenty two, Starbuck."
The table was crowded now. Waiting for the bet to go around Helo was doing his best to ignore the latest of Starbuck's stories holding the group in thrall, especially because it was, yet again, about him. She seemed to take a strange delight in sharing details she knew about his love life.
"Wasn't she the mistaken twin, Helo? I remember something about two girls and not enough shower space." Starbuck tried for innocent curiosity and failed, cracking herself up at the look on his face.
He had to admit, grudgingly, that she chose only the funniest stories, the ones that left no scars, and for that he was grateful. He shook his head in amazement while she spun her twin theory and smiled. Only she would be that ballsy. And only she could get away with it. "Dealer, we got a game goin' here or what?"
Tyrol stifled his own soft laughter and sat up straighter, checking the table for bets, calls and folds. "Bet's to Cally."
It felt good to be home again, and yet, foreign somehow. It was as if this was no longer quite his. Galactica’s crew had gone on without him because they had to, the skin healing around a wound that left only the faintest of scars. He kept hearing his conversation with Kara in the gym, Leoben’s interrogation, his telling her about time and streams, about gods and humans, prophecies and sins. He viciously shoved those thoughts away, slamming the remaining ambrosia in his glass and pouring himself another. He pointedly ignored the look that earned him from Starbuck as he glanced around the table at the faces he knew and didn't.
Dee and Cally. He missed the girls and was more than a little uneasy at the thought of them as close friends. They were trouble waiting to happen, the quiet ones always were. He felt sorry for the President's assistant. Dee could eat that boy for lunch, which, he was probably hoping for so maybe that wasn't a bad thing. Helo looked at Crashdown and Hot Dog. A fellow ECO and a rook, both strangers, but only to him. Time again. The wounding and the healing, the intentionally forgetting in order to survive, the grief shoved away for a time that was safe but that time never came. There was always another death, another loss, another grief to acknowledge and walk away from. Crashdown had replaced him with Boomer, the other Boomer, and Helo found himself hoping the man took good care of her. Not that it mattered anymore. He was amazed that Tigh hadn't given the order already. Sharon executed for treason. Sweet Zeus. Helo took another drink, unaware that the table banter had stopped, that all eyes were on him until Starbuck threw a cigar case at him.
"Hey. Raptor boy. We boring you?"
She'd kept her tone light but he could see the concern behind her eyes. He forced a smile and tossed the case back. "You in a hurry or something? Got a bunk you need to be in?" He watched with satisfaction as her eyes closed to slits. The reactions from his fellow players were almost worth the revenge that he knew would come eventually. Dee snorted the drink she'd just taken, Tyrol and Cally shared a quick knowing glance and tried not to laugh, Hot Dog looked terrified and Crashdown made a comment about how Starbuck kept getting dating confused with fighting.
Starbuck laughed. Then she hit him. Crashdown went down in a pile of arms and legs, taking Hot Dog with him. “Sorry, Crash. I must be confused."
Crashdown tried to sit up, fighting off the punch, Hot Dog and the large quantity of ambrosia he'd had to drink. "No problem, 'Buck. I can see how it's tough."
Shocked amusement filled the room. Hot Dog's eyes nearly popped out of his head and he instinctually put the ECO in a choke hold and pulled him down to the floor. "Sir, he uhm, he's drunk. He didn't...he doesn't know what he's sayin'."
"Let him up, Lieutenant," Starbuck said softly as she motioned with her hand. Hot Dog released his grip and did a strange sort of crab crawl to get out of the way. Crashdown sat up with all the dignity a drunken man could muster.
Starbuck took a drink then leaned over, looking Crashdown in the face. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I heard what you said."
"Kara," Helo laughed her name in mild warning.
Crashdown ignored her tone of voice. "You bein' a woman and all--." Starbuck's fist prevented him from finishing his thought.
She took another drink, ignoring the laughter in the room then casually lit a cigar. "Don't ever call me 'Buck'."
Tyrol cleared his throat loudly. "If you two are finished, the rest of us would like to take your money."
She looked wounded. "What? You know I hate that."
Helo watched the Chief laugh, genuine and carefree if just for that single moment in time. The ECO smiled in quiet satisfaction as the card game continued, his fellow soldiers hiding behind the shield that it offered, taking refuge in the simplicity of each other's company. He was about to goad Starbuck again when he heard a sound behind him and turned.
“I thought I told you two to hit the racks.”
The ice in Apollo’s voice stopped the room cold.
Instantly angry and fueled by too many drinks, Helo turned his brain to off. "Together? Is that an order, sir?" For the second time that night he heard Starbuck's sharp intake of breath.
"Karl."
Helo ignored her and stood up. He sensed rather than saw Tyrol do the same, heard the Chief pull an empty chair over to the table.
"Just a late night game of cards, Captain. Care to join us?"
Helo watched Apollo struggle to control his emotions, the man's eyes going from Helo to Starbuck and back to Helo, ignoring Tyrol completely.
"No thanks, Chief. I've got an early morning."
Helo tilted his head slightly at that. "Subtle."
Apollo's eyes narrowed. "Something you want to say, Lieutenant?"
Helo caught movement from the corner of his eye, Starbuck starting to come out of her chair and Tyrol putting a hand out to lightly restrain her. No one else moved. "I was just wondering about your sudden interest in our sleeping habits, Captain."
Apollo took a step closer to Helo. "I'm concerned about all my pilots, Lieutenant."
"They're not your pilots anymore, Captain," Helo snapped.
"Don't." Apollo bit the word out viciously.
Helo was beyond his rational mind now, swimming in a sea of bitterness and rage, angry at the man too afraid to acknowledge the love he so obviously felt, bitter that the only thing standing between the former CAG and his best friend was rank. Not war, not lies, not humanity or the question of it. Just a regulation. And fear. They were on the wrong side of the end of the world and the man gave a frak about rules? About risk? Dear Gods, what Helo wouldn't give to be separated from Sharon by something so simple.
"Don't what, Apollo? Wonder why you care if Starbuck sleeps alone?" Helo blocked out the shocked reactions at his words, the sight of Tyrol physically holding Starbuck back, anything that distracted him from what he knew was coming, from what he wanted with the same intensity as his wish that he and Sharon could be free.
Apollo reacted as if he'd been sucker punched, struggling to control his breathing. After a long moment he spoke slowly. "Frakking a cylon not enough for you?"
Helo felt his vision narrow, heard Starbuck's shocked "Lee!" as if from miles away. For a brief instant he turned and caught the Chief's eye. A look of complete understanding passed between them, about love, loss, and the keeping of a certain viper pilot out of the hell about to break loose. Helo pitched his tone to match Apollo's. "At least the people I love know it."
Helo's next rational thought was how strange it felt flying backwards across a table. Apollo had moved liked lightning, landing a series of punches before Helo could block them, then launched himself into the larger man taking them both to the floor. They inflicted about equal damage until Helo was able to flip Apollo off of him and get the man in a choke hold. Through the roar of blood in his ears, Helo faintly heard Tyrol yell to Crashdown to take Starbuck. The part of his brain outside the fight was amused that it took both Crashdown and Hot Dog to keep her from joining the fray. He saw other pilots rush into the room and then his vision started to go black as his breathing became laboured. He felt hands trying to pry his grip on Apollo loose, felt an arm around his own neck and understood. He heard the Chief in his ear.
"Let him go, sir. Helo, you're choking him!"
Helo relaxed his arm, weakly shoving Apollo away from him. A strange satisfaction was the last thing he felt before passing out.
_____
rating: the letter after Q, for, uhm, stuff
spoilers: Helo/Boomer...post episode 13
disclaimer: Battlestar Galactica, NBC/Universal, not mine, blah blah blah
archiving: without permission makes me very, very cranky
summary: zero-dark-thirty...the shadows between midnight and dawn
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
x-posted to
bsg_creative_____
"We goin' the long way for a reason?" Helo asked it almost to himself as he followed Starbuck through the starboard hangar bay.
"Yeah. Your ass got fat at home," she deadpanned.
Helo mocked reaching for his gun as he cast her a sideways smile. The smile slipped from his face seconds later when Starbuck stopped and he followed her gaze across the bay. Tyrol was sitting on the wing of a viper, its port engine housing removed, tinkering with a component. "Kara", he warned.
"Karl." She matched his tone and the glint of warning in his eyes.
He sighed, pressing fingers above the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to delay the headache he felt coming. What the frak did she expect him to say? Gee, Chief, sorry I'm in love with your toaster girlfriend's clone? It's not like she's cheatin' on ya, buddy.
"You did this on purpose,” he accused halfheartedly.
She shook her head. "Hoping he wouldn't be here again, actually."
"Again?"
"Yeah," she replied sadly. "Found him in here last night."
"What were you doin' in here?"
"Ditchin’ the babysitters."
"Nice.” Helo laughed softly. “The XO's gonna ground your ass for life, Starbuck." He watched her smile fade at that. "What?"
"Apollo told him to reinstate me."
"Told him," he echoed.
She nodded absently. "In sickbay. Loudly."
He saw her wince at the memory. "They had a fight?"
"Nearly."
"Apollo told Tigh," Helo muttered to himself. "Frak me."
"The bastard made me CAG."
Helo almost choked. "Which bastard?"
She flashed him a quick smile. "Apollo. Fleet needed a CAG. He understood why it couldn't be him. Consequences for his actions. Tigh needed to listen. Blah, blah, blah." She paused, rubbing a hand across her face. "I may have to kill him."
"Yeah, that'll happen," he muttered softly.
"What?"
"Nothing. Didn't say anything." Helo put his hands up innocently and just shook his head.
Starbuck glared at him for a long moment, then smiled. "Evening Chief," she said, pitching her voice to reach across the hangar bay. Tyrol looked up like a small animal caught in bright lights.
"Bitch." Helo ground the word out between clenched teeth. She gave him a sarcastic smile in reply as she started across the bay. He sighed, shaking his head, then moved slowly to follow. He took the time to study the Chief, noticing for the first time the dark circles under his eyes, the scattered scrapes and mild burns from the raptor crash on Kobol, the way the Chief looked so, broken. The haunted look in the man’s eyes - the not understanding what sins committed had earned such vengeance from the Gods - Helo recognized it in his own.
Starbuck had already engaged Tyrol in a diverting conversation about the viper he was tinkering with by the time Helo reached them. He stood quietly off to one side, unable to find words that weren’t trite, hoping to escape actually having to speak. Starbuck caught his eye and he knew he was frakked. She glared. He shifted uncomfortably.
“Chief.”
Helo didn’t miss the slight tightening of the other man’s shoulders, saw knuckles turn white around the wrench.
“Sir.” Tyrol put the wrench down and pulled a rag out of his back pocket, slowly wiping his hands clean as if it was the most important thing he’d ever done. He tried to say something else, had to clear his throat twice. “I’m uh…it’s good to you have you back, sir.”
“Thanks, Chief. I missed your bitching.” Helo managed a lopsided grin.
Tyrol raised an eyebrow at that and did his best to hide his own smile. “I don’t bitch. Sir.”
“Right. Whatever.” Helo paused, shot a questioning look to Starbuck and got a nod. “Look, me and Starbuck are gonna throw some back, and uh, I’d appreciate your help kicking her ass at cards. You in?”
He saw Tyrol hesitate, start to withdraw. A glance told him Starbuck caught it too.
“Grease monkey here ain’t got the juice, junior,” she said tauntingly.
Helo laughed. “You lettin’ her get away with that, Chief?”
Tyrol straightened up. “No sir."
____
"She was twelve...maybe," Starbuck playfully accused.
Helo laughed softly, ignoring the feigned looks of shock and cat calls from his peers. He locked eyes with his tormentor and took a slow pull of ambrosia before answering. "She was twenty two, Starbuck."
The table was crowded now. Waiting for the bet to go around Helo was doing his best to ignore the latest of Starbuck's stories holding the group in thrall, especially because it was, yet again, about him. She seemed to take a strange delight in sharing details she knew about his love life.
"Wasn't she the mistaken twin, Helo? I remember something about two girls and not enough shower space." Starbuck tried for innocent curiosity and failed, cracking herself up at the look on his face.
He had to admit, grudgingly, that she chose only the funniest stories, the ones that left no scars, and for that he was grateful. He shook his head in amazement while she spun her twin theory and smiled. Only she would be that ballsy. And only she could get away with it. "Dealer, we got a game goin' here or what?"
Tyrol stifled his own soft laughter and sat up straighter, checking the table for bets, calls and folds. "Bet's to Cally."
It felt good to be home again, and yet, foreign somehow. It was as if this was no longer quite his. Galactica’s crew had gone on without him because they had to, the skin healing around a wound that left only the faintest of scars. He kept hearing his conversation with Kara in the gym, Leoben’s interrogation, his telling her about time and streams, about gods and humans, prophecies and sins. He viciously shoved those thoughts away, slamming the remaining ambrosia in his glass and pouring himself another. He pointedly ignored the look that earned him from Starbuck as he glanced around the table at the faces he knew and didn't.
Dee and Cally. He missed the girls and was more than a little uneasy at the thought of them as close friends. They were trouble waiting to happen, the quiet ones always were. He felt sorry for the President's assistant. Dee could eat that boy for lunch, which, he was probably hoping for so maybe that wasn't a bad thing. Helo looked at Crashdown and Hot Dog. A fellow ECO and a rook, both strangers, but only to him. Time again. The wounding and the healing, the intentionally forgetting in order to survive, the grief shoved away for a time that was safe but that time never came. There was always another death, another loss, another grief to acknowledge and walk away from. Crashdown had replaced him with Boomer, the other Boomer, and Helo found himself hoping the man took good care of her. Not that it mattered anymore. He was amazed that Tigh hadn't given the order already. Sharon executed for treason. Sweet Zeus. Helo took another drink, unaware that the table banter had stopped, that all eyes were on him until Starbuck threw a cigar case at him.
"Hey. Raptor boy. We boring you?"
She'd kept her tone light but he could see the concern behind her eyes. He forced a smile and tossed the case back. "You in a hurry or something? Got a bunk you need to be in?" He watched with satisfaction as her eyes closed to slits. The reactions from his fellow players were almost worth the revenge that he knew would come eventually. Dee snorted the drink she'd just taken, Tyrol and Cally shared a quick knowing glance and tried not to laugh, Hot Dog looked terrified and Crashdown made a comment about how Starbuck kept getting dating confused with fighting.
Starbuck laughed. Then she hit him. Crashdown went down in a pile of arms and legs, taking Hot Dog with him. “Sorry, Crash. I must be confused."
Crashdown tried to sit up, fighting off the punch, Hot Dog and the large quantity of ambrosia he'd had to drink. "No problem, 'Buck. I can see how it's tough."
Shocked amusement filled the room. Hot Dog's eyes nearly popped out of his head and he instinctually put the ECO in a choke hold and pulled him down to the floor. "Sir, he uhm, he's drunk. He didn't...he doesn't know what he's sayin'."
"Let him up, Lieutenant," Starbuck said softly as she motioned with her hand. Hot Dog released his grip and did a strange sort of crab crawl to get out of the way. Crashdown sat up with all the dignity a drunken man could muster.
Starbuck took a drink then leaned over, looking Crashdown in the face. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I heard what you said."
"Kara," Helo laughed her name in mild warning.
Crashdown ignored her tone of voice. "You bein' a woman and all--." Starbuck's fist prevented him from finishing his thought.
She took another drink, ignoring the laughter in the room then casually lit a cigar. "Don't ever call me 'Buck'."
Tyrol cleared his throat loudly. "If you two are finished, the rest of us would like to take your money."
She looked wounded. "What? You know I hate that."
Helo watched the Chief laugh, genuine and carefree if just for that single moment in time. The ECO smiled in quiet satisfaction as the card game continued, his fellow soldiers hiding behind the shield that it offered, taking refuge in the simplicity of each other's company. He was about to goad Starbuck again when he heard a sound behind him and turned.
“I thought I told you two to hit the racks.”
The ice in Apollo’s voice stopped the room cold.
Instantly angry and fueled by too many drinks, Helo turned his brain to off. "Together? Is that an order, sir?" For the second time that night he heard Starbuck's sharp intake of breath.
"Karl."
Helo ignored her and stood up. He sensed rather than saw Tyrol do the same, heard the Chief pull an empty chair over to the table.
"Just a late night game of cards, Captain. Care to join us?"
Helo watched Apollo struggle to control his emotions, the man's eyes going from Helo to Starbuck and back to Helo, ignoring Tyrol completely.
"No thanks, Chief. I've got an early morning."
Helo tilted his head slightly at that. "Subtle."
Apollo's eyes narrowed. "Something you want to say, Lieutenant?"
Helo caught movement from the corner of his eye, Starbuck starting to come out of her chair and Tyrol putting a hand out to lightly restrain her. No one else moved. "I was just wondering about your sudden interest in our sleeping habits, Captain."
Apollo took a step closer to Helo. "I'm concerned about all my pilots, Lieutenant."
"They're not your pilots anymore, Captain," Helo snapped.
"Don't." Apollo bit the word out viciously.
Helo was beyond his rational mind now, swimming in a sea of bitterness and rage, angry at the man too afraid to acknowledge the love he so obviously felt, bitter that the only thing standing between the former CAG and his best friend was rank. Not war, not lies, not humanity or the question of it. Just a regulation. And fear. They were on the wrong side of the end of the world and the man gave a frak about rules? About risk? Dear Gods, what Helo wouldn't give to be separated from Sharon by something so simple.
"Don't what, Apollo? Wonder why you care if Starbuck sleeps alone?" Helo blocked out the shocked reactions at his words, the sight of Tyrol physically holding Starbuck back, anything that distracted him from what he knew was coming, from what he wanted with the same intensity as his wish that he and Sharon could be free.
Apollo reacted as if he'd been sucker punched, struggling to control his breathing. After a long moment he spoke slowly. "Frakking a cylon not enough for you?"
Helo felt his vision narrow, heard Starbuck's shocked "Lee!" as if from miles away. For a brief instant he turned and caught the Chief's eye. A look of complete understanding passed between them, about love, loss, and the keeping of a certain viper pilot out of the hell about to break loose. Helo pitched his tone to match Apollo's. "At least the people I love know it."
Helo's next rational thought was how strange it felt flying backwards across a table. Apollo had moved liked lightning, landing a series of punches before Helo could block them, then launched himself into the larger man taking them both to the floor. They inflicted about equal damage until Helo was able to flip Apollo off of him and get the man in a choke hold. Through the roar of blood in his ears, Helo faintly heard Tyrol yell to Crashdown to take Starbuck. The part of his brain outside the fight was amused that it took both Crashdown and Hot Dog to keep her from joining the fray. He saw other pilots rush into the room and then his vision started to go black as his breathing became laboured. He felt hands trying to pry his grip on Apollo loose, felt an arm around his own neck and understood. He heard the Chief in his ear.
"Let him go, sir. Helo, you're choking him!"
Helo relaxed his arm, weakly shoving Apollo away from him. A strange satisfaction was the last thing he felt before passing out.
_____
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-07-04 03:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-04 11:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-05 04:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-05 05:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-08 07:09 pm (UTC)I've not seen you put that in before. Is the archiving at OP still ok? I just want to make sure, because if it isn't, I'll take it down.
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Date: 2005-07-08 08:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-09 12:00 am (UTC)There are not enough Helo-centric fics out there, and I like how you write him. I also like how you write Tyrol, on edge but quiet about it, and Apollo, bottling everything in, as usual, until he snaps.
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Date: 2005-07-09 01:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-18 06:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-18 06:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-30 05:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-31 03:14 am (UTC)i'm tweaking the next part right now. been trying to finish it for about a week but stuff keeps getting in the way. hopefully, i can finish tonight.