our lady of destruction (imitosis) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2013-03-02 23:16:00 |
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Lee had been doing a lot of thinking since his fight with Kara, and that was a dangerous thing. When Lee got into a dark mood (something that didn’t happen often anymore, but more often than it did when he’d been alone on Earth), his thoughts usually spiralled out of control. When left to his own devices, that meant drinking or taking someone on in a boxing ring, trying to numb his feelings in one way or another. Drinking was on the menu that night, and it would have been had Kara not agreed to meet up with him. He wasn’t hopeful that the meeting would go well. It never did when they got heated like they had earlier. “Should’ve stayed home,” he grumbled to himself, his head lowered over the glass of scotch in front of him. Both arms were on the table, and he could hear his mother’s voice in his head -- elbows off the table, Leland! -- which didn’t help his mood much. He’d arrived fifteen minutes early for no reason other than he had nothing else to do, and he’d been nursing the same glass ever since. The booth he’d chosen was in the back, out of the way and hopefully quieter than the rest of the bar. He still had a direct view of the door, but he wasn’t paying it much attention. Kara would find him one way or another. But Kara was already there. After walking quiet parts of New York City -- or searching for the quiet parts, more like -- with TJ, she left to meet Lee. Were she to admit to to herself, this talk was a long time coming but all the events aboard the Galactica regularly kept them from addressing what now, in relative peace, lingered between them. She saw him come in and take his seat, his face hung within the depths of the glass between his elbows. With a tip of her chin, the bartender slid a fresh bottle of bourbon toward her and gripping the neck, she sidled through the crowd until she stood at his table. First the bottle, then her glass were placed upon the worn wood surface before she slid into the booth opposite. In days -- lives, worlds? -- past, Kara would have sat next to Lee, chin in hand as they spoke and plotted their way into one kind of mischief or another. But with the words were we … gods, the ground upon which she stood was shifting sand. “Hey.” Foolishly, Lee had stopped paying attention to the door or the movement of any patrons, so he hadn't noticed Kara until she was sliding into the booth across the table from where he sat. His shoulders tensed briefly as he thought about all of the possibilities that didn't involve a friend taking him off guard, and he cursed himself silently for getting too comfortable too quickly. It wasn't like him after so much time on his own. He slept heavier now, and without waking every twenty minutes. And yet somehow he felt more restless than ever. His eyes lifted to meet Kara's, his eyebrows arched in a hint of surprise. He hadn't expected her to actually show up, knowing her track record with serious discussions of emotions. Knowing her track record with him in general hadn't left him with much reassurance, so to see her there was a pleasant surprise. "Hey, Starbuck." “So, have a drink with me. Shoot this down before we come to blows … and remember. We’re in public for a reason.” Pouring him a generous dose of the bourbon, she raised her own in salute before having it all in one hard swallow. “I feel like I’m a good scapegoat for all the shitty things that happen to you because I make it easy for you to blame me. And I take responsibility for what I did to you. I take responsibility for my own cowardice. But you have to stop whipping me about it and waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m trying to live well while I’m here and that includes you. But you have to want it, Apollo.” She paused. “I didn’t leave you on purpose the second time. That couldn’t be helped but I’m still sorry it happened like that. You lost a lot. But we both got our best friends back when we showed up here. I don’t know what it means. In this world, I don’t have any answers. But I want to try and do alright by you.” Lee wanted to point out that he didn't want to fight her -- physically or otherwise -- but a rare bout of clarity and wisdom, he kept the thought to himself. The mere fact that she showed up told him a lot about what she was willing to do to make things right in the here and now, and he knew he shouldn't interrupt that. He should let her speak her mind, no matter how much he didn't want to hear it, no matter how much he might disagree. As she explained how she felt, he quickly realized just how wrong he thought she was about what he was doing, and how wrong he'd been too. It was heartbreaking to hear how much his actions had really been hurting her and how much bullshit he'd been throwing at her, intentions be damned. He nodded once she was done, tearing his gaze away from hers. "I know -- I know you didn't do it on purpose on Earth. I know that, and I… gods, I was angry as hell at you for a long time, but I knew you couldn't stay. So this, none of this is about that. Okay? I need you to understand that… that it was okay, that you weren't there. I was okay." He'd been better than okay. He'd been the happiest he'd ever been. "But --" His voice faltered. "You're not the scapegoat for everything that's happened to me. I am. I'm the one that keeps frakking it up. Take today, for example. That was me. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. It wasn't right. And I'm --" A frown creased his forehead as he talked and tried to figure out what he'd wanted to say. He should have tried to make a speech of some sort. "I guess I didn't think you'd face what happened to us. And I wanted you to. I wanted you to know what it did, to know it was for nothing. I didn't want to be dismissed again, like I'm still nothing, when I have to face it every single day with you and Sam, and I don't know how to do that. I never have. That's why I ran to Dee, and to Pegasus. I didn't know what else to do but frak something else up. That doesn’t make what I’ve said right, I just... I don’t know how to do this." White knuckled beneath the table, Kara was still but for the occasional swallow which slid slowly up and down her throat. “It wasn’t for nothing, Lee. None of it was. But that doesn’t mean it was right, either. I’m saying right for me, okay?” The color built in her cheeks as she bowed her head. She relived the joy and the terror of that night in perpetuity. I was impetuous and you are the choice that is ice in my veins. Sam didn’t expect these emotional calisthenics of her. But Lee, she supposed, was always trying to mould her into something he could hold in the palm of his hand. “And you weren’t dismissed. You’re not dismissed, Lee. After all that you flew my wing when no one else would trust me and I …” She broke off, finally unclasping her fist to reach across to the bottle so she could pour another shot. “I guess it’s a choice, isn’t it? You have to decide what you want to live with. I hope you pick me, Lee. I don’t want to be without you.” "I know that it wasn't right," he admitted quietly. "I know that now. But I didn't at the time. I didn't understand. You never explained." Then again, he never asked, but what would have been the point? He could still remember the humiliation he'd felt when he'd realized the truth, and he could still feel the betrayal and anger like it had only just happened. Lee was certain he'd deserved an explanation and an apology, much like the one he owed to Dee for stringing her along for so long. He'd live with that for the rest of his life and into the afterlife, he was certain of it. Lee nodded a second time, feeling the enormous weight of everything they'd been through on his shoulders once more. "After all that, I still believed in you. Even when we were barely friends." He figured they would always play that game as long as they lived; some days would be good, others bad, and that was just the way it was between them. "I don't want to be without you either, don't get me wrong. I spent enough time without you as it is. But I don't think I belong here." While he had the Serenity crew to call his friends, Lee knew that he was an outsider among them, no matter what Kaylee and Inara might have to say about it. They had a shared history, like he had with Kara, Laura and Sam. Nothing he could do would replicate that, particularly now that he was trying to give Kaylee some space. He inhaled deeply and looked up, his eyes dark and hesitant. "You do." With Sam. She had another chance with him here, and they both deserved that. With a deep furrow -- “That’s some real sad shit, Lee. And you know, I think we ought to have a good cry about how I belong, how you don’t and how you’re always going to be on the outside looking in but you know good and frakking well that is a lie. You want to be where you are because the only thing you’ve got to fight right now is me. ” Pouring another round, she finally shook her head and gestured to him with her index finger. “You need your dad or Dee or somebody like that to kick your frakking ass and make you live. There are people around you who love you and who might love you if you put yourself out there to be loved instead of holding onto the past.” Lee stared at her, a dark ad sullen expression on his face. He hated that she was more right than he was, about everything, When had Kara Thrace turned until someone who knew what he was doing? He barely recognized that. And that was as much what he was upset about as being the third wheel forever or being left behind. He snorted. "Like who? Kaylee? Simon's here now, and I promised myself not to get in the middle of another relationship again." He could feel the fight leaving him, but he was still so damn tired. After taking a deep breath, he sighed. "I've been taking it out on you. That wasn't right. You were right about that. But this -- the only times I ever thought I was going to get what I wanted, the rug's been taken out from under me. I'm tired, Kara. This place is frakking with my head." “So, you’re only willing to frak space people. That’s so logical, Lee. Godsdamn, you’re a genius.” She kicked him under the table. “Why’s it got to be who you’re with or what you’re frakking anyway, Lee? I don’t give a shit about Kaylee and her Simon … whatever. If she’s not interested in pursuing things with you, then put your shoulder to the wheel and go to law school. Fill out the applications. Start simple.” She paused. “Find your cause. Because seriously, the next step is fat Lee and nobody wants that. Especially not TJ, who will show you a good time with a word only.” Lee frowned and kicked her back, though not very hard. "If you're going to put words in my mouth as payback, I'm leaving," he stated. "Better that than fight about how much you think you know what's going on in my head." It wasn't that he was unwilling to see other people - gods only knew he had plenty of chances already, and had taken a few girls up on their offers already - but he knew once they were set in their ways, that was it: it was their way or the airlock, figuratively speaking. "I'm not even sure you'll understand. I barely do." It was about more than frakking, more than who he was with, more than just going to law school and calling it a day. "I miss Earth, how it was." “Calling it like I see it, Apollo!” she replied, laying her hand above her head as if she were oath-making. Then -- so that’s it. She sat back, hands loose in her lap. It was easy for her, she guessed. Easy because the reality she was taken from was not so much reality as it was nothing. A cavernous waiting room of naught but dust and light and shadow. Rather than dwell, she started quickly and paused just shy of his hand -- “You’re going to kill yourself missing something that can’t be, Lee.” There were some days that Lee didn't think that sounded so bad, and that was something he hadn't admitted to anyone. After everything he'd been through, wouldn't it be a relief? Every time he got close, he pulled those thoughts back; people would only tell him to be grateful, just as Kara had, when they should know it was never that easy. Most days, he still wanted to climb mountains more than roll over and give up. This was not one of those days. "Something that was," he corrected her, lifting his glass to his lips for another drink. "Something that will be again, when I go back." He let out a dry, shallow laugh. "Never thought this would be easier for you than me, after where you've been. Seems like we switched places." “Anything’s easier than nothing, Lee.” But if he thought she had it easy or that she had thoroughly adjusted to life thrown outside the wheel of time? Well, let him think it. The Lee who asked and probed, she supposed, was a Lee who had been left in the wilds of primordial Africa. “You keep saying when. That’s good. You ought to be starting a training regimen.” Her hand fell on the table and then slid back to her lap. “I’ll design one for you.” This time, when Lee laughed, he sounded more like his old self, the one who used to poke at Kara just to get a rise out of her because it was the only way she would listen to him sometimes. "You'll design a training regimen for me?" he asked, skeptical. "You? Is it going to involve drinking, because I don't think that's how it works." “I could whip you with one hand tied behind my back.” She nodded slowly, eyes narrowed as if taking his measure. “You’re soft -- but if you don’t want my help, fine. I guess Killimanjaro can climb itself.” Lee shook his head slowly. "I'm not soft. And I'm sure you could. You always could." It wasn't often that he admitted to that, but if there was one person in the world who could whip him with one hand behind her back, it was Kara. It'd always been Kara, for as long as he'd known her. "You think that's a good idea?" he asked after another moment, eyebrows lifted in disbelief and hesitation. "I don't know how to be your best friend without all of the baggage, Kara. There's always been baggage. That's what frakked us up before." It felt good to say it, despite how much it still hurt. Lee expected it always would. “Really? And you are beyond learning. Okay.” Stung -- again -- by Lee’s lack of surety, she slid to the end of the booth and paused. One could only reach out so far and so long before the hand dropped. “You’d better figure it out, Lee. For the good of all of us.” She stood. “I really want you to figure it out.” If Kara only knew that Lee's doubt had more to do with himself than anyone else -- that it always had been more about himself than anyone else -- she might not take it so hard. He didn't trust himself, not with things that weren't flying a Viper. And even then, he wasn't that great. "Kara…" Lee could feel her slipping away again, but he didn't make a move to stop her. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "I want to. I'm trying." He didn't bother making eye contact. If trying wasn't enough for her, then he had nothing left to give. "Just go. All I can do is try. I can't give you more than that." But Kara, in all of her infinite instinctuality and her tactile need to either build up or destroy, stepped in and wrapped her arms around Lee’s shoulders. “Hey Lee.” Her forehead butted up against his temple. “Alright. Keep trying. You’re doing good.” "Bullshit I am," Lee muttered, lifting a single hand to grip her arm gently, holding her there a fraction longer than he thought she'd stay willingly. He'd hoped to feel better, somehow, after talking it out, but he barely did. It seemed to him that the burden to fix them was still all on his shoulders, and he was still sure he'd ruin it, given enough time. He nudged her away after another moment, even though he worried that it would all be over if he let her walk away. "You can go. I'll be fine. I'm sure you can find better company right now. I'll find my way." She pressed her lips firmly against his temple, lingering a moment after he released her. “It isn’t all on you, I know. Let’s try together. Meet me tomorrow and we’ll go running, okay?” Then, she stepped back and gave him an awkward smile. “Text me when you get in, Lee.” Lee'd been blamed (and had been blaming himself) enough for so much that he was beginning to think it was all on his shoulders. That was when Kara surprised him by offering to share the burden with him, just as he felt the rest of his hope slipping away. Maybe it would work, if he wasn't doing it alone. It was a big thing to latch his remaining hopes on, a maybe, but he had to try. He'd promised he would. He nodded his head slowly. "Sure. See you in the morning." Six fingers -- “Oh-six hundred. Meet me in the lobby.” Then, throwing her hand over his shoulder, she slid through the bar and into the crowd. |