Kara could feel sweat trickling down the back of her flight suit, but couldn't stop shivering as she released the clasps on her helmet with shaking fingers. Her stomach was somersaulting wildly, protesting the stims and what she had just done. She had shot down a civilian ship. Logic told her it had to be done, she was following orders, but frak it, her whole body burned with the force of the action.

Everything was spinning, and she was only vaguely aware of hands pulling at her, helping her take her helmet off and removing the metal collar that secured it from around her neck. The same hands forced her to climb out of the cockpit, legs shaking. She somehow managed to stumble her way down the ladder, forcing her knees to lock and hold her upright. As soon as she had her balance, she threw her helmet to the floor and made a shaky beeline out of the hangar deck, ignoring the calls behind her.

The sight of flames and pieces of a ship blowing apart followed her through the corridors, and her vision wavered as she staggered into a wall. She quickly righted herself and continued as fast as she could on her path. The sound of Lee's voice propelled her into the communal bathroom and towards the first open stall. Fire on my mark . . . Mark. Her stomach twisted painfully, and Kara barely had time to lean over the toilet before she threw up.

She ignored the gasps and whispers from the people in the bathroom and let herself curl up on her knees in front of the toilet, her hair in her eyes as she vomited what seemed like everything she had ever eaten.

By the time those in the bathroom had retreated to get help, she wasn't aware of anything except the pain in her stomach and the way her heart was racing. It felt like she was having a heart attack. She couldn't breathe, couldn't turn around to see whose hand was on her shoulder.

"Kara. Shh, it's okay. Can you lean back a little?" a familiar voice asked, and she looked up to see Lee leaning over her, a worried expression on his face. He was pulling her away from her curled position against the toilet and she wanted to warn him not to move her, but couldn't get the words out.

Fire on my mark . . .

She didn't have enough energy to move, and he'd pulled her too far away from the toilet, so she threw up whatever was left in her stomach on his shoes. He didn't seem to even notice, a string of words she couldn't understand coming from his mouth. She focused on the feel of his hands running through her sweaty hair, the coldness of the metal floor against her cheek as he laid her down on her side, his hand warm against the pulse beating wildly in her throat.

"Someone get a medic in here!"

"I didn't want to." she whispered, gagging slightly at the taste of her words; luckily there was nothing left to come up and Lee's boots were spared this time. She squeezed her eyes closed as he knelt by her head, right in her line of vision.

"I know. It will be okay. It's just a reaction to the stims. You'll be okay." Lee assured her, and she wanted to argue. It would never be okay. It was the end of the world. It was beyond the end of the world; it was the end of the universe.

She gagged hard at the thought and ended up choking on air this time. She coughed for a moment to catch her breath and felt Lee's hands on her back, one holding her steady and the other stroking in a soothing rhythm against her shoulder blade. The Adama men had always been gentle, she thought vaguely. Zak had wanted to cuddle in love, the Commander to hold her hand in comfort. It was Lee who never touched her, until now. The end of the universe.

Mark.