pelle_kb: (bsg::dustland fairytale)
[personal profile] pelle_kb
I had a moment of inspiration and here it is - my very first fic in English. Don't be afraid to criticise and remember to drop me a comment. :)

The fic was inspired by the prompt gave to my by [ profile] galianoir: Where Lee and Kara are both behind the bars. Thanks!

Title: You know, we don't stand a chance
Fandom: BSG
Pairing: Kara/Lee
Wordcount: 1042
Summary: Spoilers for the fourth season. Deathfic.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the universe, which belongs fully to Ron D. Moore.
A/N: Thanks to [ profile] girlupnorth for beta-reading and [ profile] novin_ha for some suggestions. :)

You know, we don't stand a chance

let's grow old together
and die at the same time

Kara studies him through the bars.

They might be in separate cells, but she couldn’t care less. She knows that she should care, because this is probably the last time she is ever going to see him, the last night of reminding herself of all the failures and unsaid goodbyes. Missed opportunites. The faces of people that she couldn’t save, the bluish wreckage of the Olympic Carrier, burning, burning in the torn fabric of open space.

She feels empty, more empty than she had ever felt before. It’s like somebody had drained her and then left her this way, without returning what was rightfully hers. She felt cheated, but it was okay, because it was still the end of the world, but this time not the whole world, but only hers.

Somehow it felt more intimate.

She observes Lee, longing to touch him, but at the same time unable to do so. He’s close enough, that’s not the problem. The blue shirt he put on instead of a flight suit makes him look more vulnerable, almost defenseless. It intimidates her in the way she can’t quite grasp, making her pensive, but yeah, still empty inside.

He looks more like a civilian now, and she nearly forgot how it’s like, not to be obliged to protect other people and shoot Cylons from the endless sky. She wonders how does it feels for him; she regrets having asked about it, but she can’t bring herself to do it – she knows too well that there won’t be any other occasion, still, she remains silent.

There’s only the blue, sweat-stained material and a silken tie to shield him from the bullets.

That’s a scary thought.

His face, however, looks different, more calm and distant, as if he had already accepted that they’re going to die. He is an ex-pilot, a politician and a son of the dead Admiral, whereas she is no more than a broken spirit, a twisted soul who came back from the dead without an invitation.

Doomed to fall, that’s what they are.

What they have been destined to be, since the very beginning.

His hands, resting on the bars, seem almost relaxed and that’s so unrealistic that she feels more withdrawn than ever since her return. Maybe it’s a nightmare, the darkest of all dreams, in which she is afraid to touch him, because it might bruise him (like that has ever stopped her before) or make him disappear like a silver vapour, without the smallest warning (well, wouldn’t it be almost how she had left him before?).

Yeah, not exactly.

This time there won’t be any fireworks, any coming back from the dead. Game over.

He’s looking and her and she suddenly wonders if he isn’t thinking the same thing about her.

If he watches her as if she was made out of thin air and mist, too unreal to be true.

She hates that thought, but without the burning rage that filled her long before; before Zak, before Lee and before everything what came next. After the Apocalypse the smaller ones came: some shaped as a shrapnel, some disguised as humans, not machines with a mechanical heart inside of a chrome chest.

She observes him from the distance, focusing on his jaw and split lip; he might have come to peace with what awaits them, but yesterday he tried really hard to fight them back. Connor, that bastard, who once helped them battle the Cylons on New Caprica, hit him on the head with a pistol and when Lee lost his balance, he kicked him hard in the ribs and watched him fall.

Kara had managed to kill three of them before they struck her down.

The sight of Lee being hurt made her feel almost invincible, fueled her with burning rage and hot adrenaline, but it wasn’t enough to stop them.

Those bastards.

In the end it’s better that the Old Man didn’t live to see this moment.

Lee is quiet, so quiet, but he keeps watching her.

Constant vigilance.

“I’m sorry,” she says, words leaving her mouth before she could stop them. “I shouldn’t have come back.” She feels obliged to say so, even if she’s not that big on apologies. If she could have returned the borrowed time only to save his life, she would have done that without a single thought.

He will never know.

“Kara,” he says. “I would have never taken this back.” His voice is calm and soothing, like a cooling salve on her bruises, but she swears that behind this façade she can almost feel the regret. He sounds like an elderly man who had buried most of his family and now waits for the right moment to join them.


They ought to have more time.

She looks at him, trying to memorize everything, the tiniest details, which somehow she had forgotten before, and that, in this particular moment, feels almost like a betrayal. She suddenly realizes that she has so much to say to him, so many things to catch up on, but oddly this thought doesn’t make her feel any more alive. She observes the trickle of sweat on his neck, disappearing slowly under the collar of his blue shirt.

“I love you,” he blurts out, as simply as if it was a normal situation and there were not about to be executed. She wants to berate him for choosing this moment, but she can’t bring herself to do that.

She can’t remember loving him stronger than in this moment.

Then they come.

She observes them as they handcuff him, now calm and accepting, and then lead him out of his cell. He isn’t fighting anymore and she isn’t sure if she should be angry or touched by that. The only thing she feels confident about is that she is also not going to fight back.

Lee smiles at her.

Then he’s gone.

She knows that he’ll be waiting for her on the other side and for now it’s more than enough.

For a brief moment she wonders what if there’s no such thing as the other side, but then she manages to overcome the disturbing thoughts.

When they come for her, she’s ready.

She won’t be alone anymore.
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