I am so overwhelmed by the drama of this series, that I can't bring myself to explore any major storylines. So, I am sticking to these fairly short, AU scenes. This one is partially based on some of the details I have read about season two. Please note, possible spoilers.

If you have read any of my other works for BSG, you will quickly figure out, I am addicted to the Adama men and their relationship. It is so complex. I was disheartened by an interview with Edward James Olmos, where he alluded to the fact that these two were not going to be resolving any issues, any time soon. ARGH! I think this story comes from my need to give them even a tiny bit of resolution.

As always, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy it and please forgive any minor errors. They weren't intended.

Reclaiming What's Important

"Dad?" His voice was quiet and pained.

"I'm here, Son. You just hang on. We're gonna help ya."

Lee was overwhelmed that his father was there. "Starbuck?"

"She's fine. She'll be here shortly."

"You're a little late for the game." The words sputtered out roughly.

Adama chuckled softly. "I guess I am." He surveyed the battleground. "Looks like you didn't need me though."

The cough that had been growing inside Lee suddenly emerged and with it, a steady flow of blood. He felt his father's arms hold him tighter and heard him whisper encouragement. When the wave had passed, Lee asked in a garbled voice. "Who won?"

His father again smiled. "You did. You did good, Lee. You did good."

Lee shook his head ever so slightly and whispered. "No, I don't think I won." He never tried to take a last breath. He simply closed his eyes and his head slumped back in his father's embrace.

William Adama knew his son was dead. It was too much. It was all wrong. A father wasn't supposed to outlive his son. Unlike the last time he had lost his son, in the middle of a war, when he was required by duty to hold his demeanor, his head fell back and a horrible scream of anguish filled the air.


Commander William Adama was a pilot at heart. His military skills controlled a powerful piece of metal in fine details. Although basic combat and survival training was required of every solider in the colonial fleet, he'd never felt fully comfortable in ground warfare. This battle to cover the densely wooded terrain in haste left him feeling clumsy and if he was honest with himself, panicky. There was a part of him that longed to signal the squad of marines following him to take a break if not for the urgency of the matter.

Colonel Tigh and Major Cottle had argued long and hard with him. Neither was willing to let him lead this mission, no matter what the circumstances.

"I may have signed off on you returning to command duty, but this is insane. A surface away mission was not what I had in mind." There was real concern and not a hint of his usual sarcasm in Doctor Cottle's voice. Bill Adama did note the significance.

Tigh had been quiet for some time now. He was debating saying what he was going to say in the presence of the doctor. He knew he had no choice. He couldn't help but feel it was their strongest argument. "You can't possibly think of leaving me in command of the fleet while you go off on this indulgence?" There, he'd said it. He hoped it would work. Frak, he'd lead the mission himself if he had to. He just didn't want to be in charge again. He could see Ellen, his wife, cringing at this admission.

"Indulgence? You call this mission an INDULGENCE?" Tigh wasn't surprised at the anger in Adama's tone.

"It is for you." Tigh prepared to stand his ground at the risk of offending the man he'd so long served. "There are other men who can lead this mission. It shouldn't be you."

"And why is that?" Adama's words were short and clipped, as if he truly was interested.

"It's too dangerous. We damn well nearly lost you once. I WON'T let that happen again." Then Tigh added a sucker punch. "Neither would Lee."

Adama's eyes narrowed but it was still enough to glare at his XO and friend. "The only person who can bring back Roslin is me. We all know that. I have to go."

"That's the only reason? You think you are the only one? Hell, any marine can grab her and throw her over his shoulder to get her back. What's the real reason?" Tigh was on fire.

Doctor Cottle could sense the discussion was going in a direction he didn't need to be part of. He interjected by offering his final position. "Listen. I got patients who need and appreciate my advice waiting for me. Let me make myself clear. I don't think you are physically up to this kind of mission, but technically I did clear you for duty and this is still technically within that domain. Just don't come cryin' to me when you get back."

"If you get back." Tigh added. Cottle met his gaze and departed.

Adama and Tigh stood eye to eye, each waiting for the other to begin the ultimate, decisive battle on the issue. Adama fired first. "You got something to say, say it."

"The only reason you want to go on this mission is Lee."

"That's not true."

"Bull shit. He mutinied, sided with your enemy and then left before you could kick his ass to Hades and back. You want to be the one to bring him back."

Adama had been silent. Tigh had no idea of the truth and he didn't think he could explain it to him. What he'd said was essentially true. There was a time when he had felt that way about Lee. He had vague memories of those initial days after the attack. He'd found comfort and reassurance to wake up to his son at his side. It had felt good knowing that all they had been through hadn't dulled what was really important, being there for each other. He had no idea his son would leave him, be part of splitting the fleet and return to Kobol. Now he was down there somewhere, on that planet with two people Adama would never understand. Yes, he was angry with Lee. He ran away from his actions rather then staying and dealing with them. What Tigh didn't know, was that Lee had left him a note. It had broken Bill's heart to see the note, bound up by Lee's dog tags. In his mind, it signaled the end, his complete failure as a father. He still hadn't brought himself to open the letter. He didn't want to know what it contained.

What Tigh also didn't know about were the dreams he'd been having. He knew the practical advantage and necessity of dreaming but he'd never remembered his dreams until now. They were so different from what he had ever expected. It was as if his near death experience had broken down a wall in him. He once advised his son to accept his actions and move on. He, himself, had lived that way for many years. Suddenly, it was as if his dreams were questioning all those decisions he'd been making for years. Thankfully, he'd been able to separate this reflection from his duties. The last thing a military commander needed to do in a life or death moment was to second-guess himself. The problem was how he was going to convince Tigh that it was important to get to Lee without the XO recommending him to therapy.

He laughed at the irony. This whole mess started when the President was having drug-induced visions. Now he was all but doing the same. No, that's not when it started. It started a short time ago, when the Cylons tried to eliminate humanity. That wasn't true either. Maybe it started forty years ago during the first Cylon War. FRAK! His mind screamed. It didn't matter when it started, Bill Adama was going to finish it the way he wanted, XO or not.

Since the shooting, insomnia had not been an issue. When a chance at sleep presented itself, he had taken it with gusto. He would never admit to anyone how tired his body was upon his return to duty. The last nights had been different though. Each night the same dream haunted him and left him chilled to the bone. Each time the dream ended, it was always the same. Apollo died in his arms. Bill Adama was not going to let that happen. There were too many things unsaid and Lee had too much life to live and too much to contribute to this world. He'd never be able to convince Tigh by explaining the dream, but the good thing about being a commander was, he didn't have to.

So here he was running through the woods. As in his dream, the group came across a clearing. Below them, a fierce man-to-cylon battle raged. Even from a distance he could tell it was Starbuck and Apollo, his only remaining son and the woman he loved like a daughter. There was one cylon centurion and three humanoids. He recognized the Boomer and Leobon models and the other appeared to be the Shelly Godfrey model. From their left, President Roslin and Tom Zarek called out to the oncoming military group. The arrow of Apollo was in Roslin's hand.

"Commander!" Laura had never been so relieved to see Adama. "You have to help them."

Adama slowed for only a second. At first he was angry to see them here, in safety. Then he realized Lee must have sent them to safety. "Stay here."

Impossibly, Adama increased his pace toward the battle and the rest of the squadron followed. Adama wasn't watching where he was going. He had put his body on autopilot. He couldn't take his eyes off his son.

"Are we close enough to help?" He shouted over his shoulder.

The lead marine answered. "We could try, Sir. But from this distance and with that level of movement, we might hit one of ours."

Adama cursed.

Starbuck was off to the side, attempting to distract the centurion from Apollo's own battle. She was running, dodging its shots and offering her own. Meanwhile, Apollo was holding his own against Leobon and Boomer. Shelley Godfrey seemed to merely watch.

Leobon caught Lee off-guard and was pummeling him. Lee fell backward and to the luck of the Gods, landed near his weapon. Faster then Leobon could expect, the gun was fired from Lee's hand directly into the center of Leobon's forehead. The Cylon dropped to the ground, dead. Before Lee could redirect to Boomer, she had again kicked the weapon from his hand. With amazing agility, he kicked his legs out and struck her midsection. It wasn't enough to knock her off her feet, but it offered him enough time to regain his own footing. Boomer advanced and punches flew back and forth between the two with ferocity.

Although she would never admit it, Starbuck was having difficulties with the Centurion. She had managed to blast its weapon off, along with about half its arm. She fully expected another gun to emerge from its other arm, but none did. Instead a massive, sharp bayonet emerged from its remaining appendage. She fired again, but her gun was empty. A loud crack, followed by laughter caused her to glance Lee's direction. He was in real trouble as well. She wished she could help him. She refocused on her attacker. An insane smile formed on her lips. She was going to fight hand to hand with a toaster. It advanced. Despite its mechanical form, it could only be described as fluid. She knew she had to avoid the remaining arm, so she dove low to tackle its legs. A quick move on the Centurion's part deflected her and pitched her backward. She landed hard, her head hitting a rock on the way. It dazed her. Before she could recover, the Cylon was towering above her poised to strike.

The marine ordered some of his men to take a position and prepare to fire on any Cylon they could be sure to hit. Two men stopped in their tracks, dropped to the ground and trained their rifles on the battlegrounds.

She never heard the shot. All she saw was the menacing mechanical red eye falling toward her. It was too close and she couldn't escape in time. She risked a glance in Lee's direction and cringed. For the first time in her life, she knew she had been defeated. The Cylon Centurion collapsed in a dead heap on top of her. It's large metal head impacting hers and sending her to oblivion.


Lee would have loved to risk a glance to see how Starbuck was faring, but since she had not yet joined his battle, he knew the news wouldn't be good. A small part of his mind had detached itself from the physical battle, which was little more than a slugfest at the time. This same part of his mind was wondering what was keeping him going. Each move was agony. His lungs burned for oxygen. His head pounded at the onslaught. As this small part focused on his physical pain, it expanded and distracted him, causing Lee to slip up. Boomer didn't miss it. She grabbed his arm, yanked hard and twisted it up behind his back with inhuman force. As she tightened the twist, the cracking bones could be heard and Lee felt his shoulder tear away from his arm. He longed to scream out the intensity of pain he felt, but somehow, pride prevented him. He felt himself giving in and succumbing to defeat. It was Shelly Godfrey's sickening laughter that renewed his strength and opened the access to something more powerful within him. He didn't care if he did die, he would take these cylon bastards with him.

Boomer continued to hold his arm, now dangerously limp. With all the strength he could muster he kicked backward, catching Boomer in the leg. She released him just enough for him to grab at her arm and pull her over his back. She crashed on the ground in front of him, momentarily stunned at the turn of events. Lee wasted no time. Using his one remaining arm, he wrapped it around her head and pulled with all his might. He smiled at the satisfaction that surged through his body at the sound of the snapping of her neck. Never in his life had it felt good to kill. She fell to the ground at his feet. Then he noticed that Shelly Godfrey was no longer laughing. He turned to her. She smiled at him. In a cold voice that betrayed the beauty of her body, she said, "Its just you and me now."

Apollo couldn't say anything. He simply drew his body upright, squared his shoulders as best he could and faced her.

"You are going to die today, Lee Adama. You can be sure of that." She added icily.

"Maybe so, but I'll be taking you with me." With that he dove head first in her direction. Ramming into her midsection, knocking them both over.

Having not expended any energy thus far, Godfrey was the first on her feet. Lee struggled to regain his, but before he could, she delivered the first of many ferocious kicks to his chest and abdomen, each kick sending him sprawling backwards. As she calmly advanced on him, she kept talking to him.

"It's a pity really. You could have fit so nicely into God's plan." Again she attacked him. Lee could feel bones breaking within him.

"As humans go, you're a fine specimen." Again she kicked him, this time in the head.

"Such a shame, really." Again she struck at his head, opening yet another large and deep gash.

She was so caught up in her victory; she hadn't noticed that with each blow, Lee had been making every attempt to make his body go in one direction. Lee glanced over his shoulder and Shelly saw his goal, the gun. She smiled and moved in for her kill. At the same time, Lee heaved his body forward and in an instant, grabbed the gun, turned and fired.

Two shots rang out at the same time. Lee's bullet had hit dead center chest. The other had hit her in the head. Both had served their purpose and Shelly Godfrey fell dead.

Lee's body cried out in agony, but he screwed his head in the direction of the other shot, expecting to see Kara. He didn't see her. Instead, he saw dark legs running toward him and surrounding him. He was fading. He could feel the rumble from deep within him begin. Soon it would make its way up and out. He felt himself being lifted and supported. Arms surrounded him and he heard his name being called, no, not his name. He heard "son". He turned his head toward the voice and gazed at the blurry image of his father.

"Dad?" His voice was quiet and pained.

"I'm here, Son. You just hang on. We're gonna help ya." His dad's voice was so reassuring, Lee almost believed him.

Lee was overwhelmed that his father was there. Nothing had ever meant so much to him. He could see the grimace on his father's face and knew it wasn't looking good. "Starbuck?"

Adama glanced over to the Centurion. Several marines were clearing it from a now kicking and screaming Kara Thrace. He chuckled. "She's fine. She'll be here shortly."

Lee actually tried to lighten the moment with his father. "You're a little late for the game."

Adama chuckled softly. "I guess I am." He surveyed the battleground. "Looks like you didn't need me though." He smiled at his son with pride.

The cough that had been growing inside Lee suddenly emerged and with it, a steady flow of blood. He felt his father's arms hold him tighter and heard him whisper encouragement. When the wave had passed, Lee asked in a garbled voice. "Who won?"

His father again smiled. "You did. You did good, Lee. You did real good." Adama agonized over this reply, his dream happening in real life.

Lee shook his head ever so slightly and whispered. "No, I don't think I won." Lee's head slumped backward. Adama cradled his son tighter and spoke to him.

"Lee! Lee, listen to me. You won! You won! Stay with me, now. Do you hear?" Adama's voice held panic. Kara arrived at the side of the men she loved and braced herself for the worst.

Stay tuned for the conclusion...