Work Text:
Title: Release
Pairing: AR implied, AC proto
Rating: PG for implied potential slash pairing
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.
Summary: Adama let's go of his grief.
Note: unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.
Adama knew that Laura was dead and he had never felt so dead himself, even when he had died. The colors had drained away out of his world with her passing. He went to CIC everyday and did his job, did his duty, but he knew his eyes were empty of life. Her death had taken him with her, but for his promise to her, he would have willed himself into death beside her.
It had been months since she died and he still hadn't cried. Overnight, his hair, already graying here and there, had gone gunmetal gray. He looked ravaged by loss and he knew it too. He saw the looks that his crew gave him when they thought he wasn't looking. He knew they were worried about him. In the beginning, they wouldn't leave him be. Kara or Lee would walk him to his quarters or stop by in the night with a question or Dee would come by with one more report for him to sign. It was their way of watching over him. He was the Father of the fleet and now that Mother had made orphans of them all, the Kids had to make sure that he stayed sane. The first month had been the hardest but he knew that if anything, his crew was more worried about him now than before. He hadn't smiled or laughed in so long. His eyes were dead, the grief unrelenting.
No one knew what to do about the Old Man. The crew whispered their worry to each other and morale was low. Jack Cottle had watched the Commander from afar, not necessarily because he wanted to keep his distance. He was the only doctor in the fleet with enough medical expertise to take care of crises. He was training his med techs and nurses as fast as he could but when it came to surgery, he was it. It was a lot of hours and he slept in bits and pieces here and there. He hadn't had a full night's rest since the day the worlds ended. He was resigned to this fate and as long as the fleet kept him supplied in cigarettes and the occasional shot of something stronger, he didn't much care. His nurses on the Galactica had kept him up to date in regards to the scuttlebutt and even they were worried about Adama. His nurses, who worried over very few people because they were that kind of good, were worried over Adama's mental state. Time to put a stop to all of this nonsense,thought Cottle.
Checking the time, Cottle note that the Commander should be in his quarters by now. Cottle finished signing off on the mountain of paperwork that was waiting for him and then instructed his chief nurse to not bother him for anything short of impending death. The chief nurse looked at him for a moment, walked over to a cabinet and reached behind stacked bandages and bottles to pull out a bottle of well aged Ambrosia. "Good luck with the Commander,Sir. See you tomorrow afternoon." Cottle looked at him a moment,nodded, picked up the bottle and started down the hallway towards the Commander's quarters. "Definitely going to have to keep an eye on that one." Cottle mumbled under his breath.
As per usual of late,the Commander's door was closed rather than open. Without bothering to knock, Cottle pushed the door open, and stepped into Adama's quarters.The sight that greeted him left no doubt in his mind that Cottle had not come a moment too soon. Adama sat in the dark, a single lamp on a this desk throwing pale light into the rest of the room. He reminded Cottle of a string puppet who had been tossed into a corner, the strings tangled. Adama didn't look up or acknowledge Cottle until Cottle had shut the door with a bit of an added bang. Now that Cottle had Adama's attention, "Come on Bill. We are getting pissing drunk tonight." Adama didn't say anything but took the glass that Cottle offered. Cottle raised his glass, "To Laura Roslin, the toughest and most stubborn woman I have ever met." Adama looked at him, his eyes swelling with tears. Finally, here it comes, thought Cottle, and it didn't even take an entire bottle of booze.
Adama had been at the breaking point for so long that the very mention of her name from someone who knew her well was all that was needed to break the last of his carefully constructed, but failing, shields. Adama gasped and felt the tears running down his face. His hands started to tremble. He was vaguely aware that Cottle downed his own shot of Ambrosia before gently taking Adama's glass and setting it on the table. Cottle sat beside Adama and wrapped his arm around Adama's shoulders. That was all that Adama needed. Sounds of a wounded animal emanated from his throat and great sobs tore through his aching chest. Cottle turned Adama into his embrace and held him as the full fury of a grief too long repressed blasted out of Adama's heart and soul. Those that walked past the Commander's quarters heard howls of agony but no one dared open the door. They were worried, but all felt a sense of relief that he was finally letting go. Word spread through the ship like wildfire and within 30 minutes, Kara and Lee were standing guard outside of the Commander's quarters, daring anyone to say anything or even think of knocking on the door.
The cries eventually died down after about an hour, but Kara and Lee still stood guard, stony faced and silent. After another hour, Kara and Lee looked at each other. Kara nodded and silently opened the door. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light quickly. Only to be met by the piercing eyes of Doc Cottle. She took in the sight before her. Both men were on the couch, Cottle was on his back, the Old Man tucked into his side, asleep. Cottle's right hand still rubbed gently soothing circles on Adama's back. Kara looked at Cottle for a moment longer, nodded, and silently closed the door behind her. Lee gave her a questioning look. Kara allowed a small smile to break through her granite façade and then resumed her post guarding the door. She heard Lee's sigh of relief and saw him straighten up as he too resumed guard duty.
In the room beyond the door, Adama slept on, his head pillowed on Cottle's shoulder. Jack reached with shaking fingers and gently brushed a lock of hair out of Bill's face.Jack, unable to resist, caressed the weathered cheek gently and froze when Bill turned into the caress. Bill's eyes opened. He looked at Jack for a moment and in a voice that was deep and raspy asked, "I take it that whoever is watching over the door is satisfied that I am going to live?" Cottle gave a single small nod, his hand still cupping Bill's cheek. Bill smiled slightly, "So, will I live Doc?" His throat tight,Cottle murmured, "Oh, I think you'll do." Bill's eyes glinted with aninner light that had been absent for months. Then he lay his head back down on Jack's chest, sighed, and slipped back into slumber. The last thing he felt was Jack's fingers running through his hair.