This fic qualifies as a missing scene from "Scar." If you haven't seen the episode, you'll be spoiled, but hopefully you'll read and recover.
After hours of waiting for her to return to her rack, after a cold shower and a good jerk-off, after doing paperwork and talking with his father, Lee finally decided to search Kara down. As he wandered Pegasus's corridors, he wondered when exactly Kara had started on a downhill slide and if he could have prevented it somehow.
She had seemed okay – tried to be there for him, even, when he was faltering – but something had happened in the weeks since the President's brush with death. He couldn't help but feel that he had abandoned her in some way; while he had gone off to deal with his own demons there had been no one to stop her from succumbing to her own. He wondered if his emotional desertion for most of the past month had been the catalyst for whatever it was that she was doing to herself.
Maybe if he hadn't pushed her away they could have helped each other and he would recognize her better. The drinking, the crying, the desperation; none of it was the Kara he knew. Sure she had the potential – she'd always been on the edge of self destruction – but somehow she had always kept herself from crashing and burning. He had the feeling that she would engage in full self-destruction this time if he didn't do something.
All he could picture was Kara's anguished face as she kissed him; all he could hear were her desolate words in the rec room. He had never heard her talk like that before. She always had big words and actions and survival instincts; she had never mentioned her own death. Never.
"You know, the President says that we're saving humanity for a bright shiny future on Earth . . . that you and I are never gonna see. We're not. Because we go out over and over again until someday, some metal motherfrakker is gonna catch us on a bad day and just blow us away."
Gods, if she ever got blown away he didn't know what he would do. He wasn't afraid to die; but he was afraid of not having her while he was alive. He had excised her out of his life once, two years ago, and that had been hard enough. Now it was impossible. They lived together, ran together, flew missions together, talked together . . . she was more a part of his world than she had ever been, had ever hoped for.
When she had offered herself to him, he had taken her without hesitation; it was what he had dreamed about for four long years, and he figured it would be okay considering he had been waiting so frakking long. Her words had struck a chord. Someday they would die, and more than anything else left in the universe, he wanted to know what being with Kara felt like, just once. He had told himself for years that once would be enough.
It turned out once wasn't enough, especially not if it wasn't going to be the right way, the way he had pictured it: slow and sweet and full of declarations of needing and wanting. He realized he had probably ruined his chances forever by pulling away at that critical moment, but he just couldn't bear to have only a part of Kara. He had been sufficing on bits and pieces of Kara Thrace for too many years; he'd wanted all of her.
It was maddening. His desire for Kara seemed to keep redefining itself, getting bigger and bigger the closer he got to what he wanted.
"Gods, Kara, what you do to me." he muttered to himself, rounding the corner. He saw the pilot's briefing room hatch was ajar, and knew he had found what he was looking for.
He pushed the hatch open, and at first was surprised to see the room was empty. Then he realized the projector was on, and something was playing on the screen. Frowning, he stepped farther into the room, watching the film play. It was a video reel of vipers fighting with the mysterious Cylon raider. As he watched, an explosion rocked the screen.
With a feeling of dread, Lee made his way towards the front of the roomHe rounded the first row of seats to see Kara slumped over in a chair, an empty bottle of ambrosia on the floor at her feet. She didn't move as he approached, or when he knelt down in front of her and touched her damp cheek. Frak, she'd been crying.
"Kara. Come on, Kara, get up." he ordered, shaking her. She still didn't move. Worried, he felt her neck for a pulse, and was relieved to find it strong and steady. The alcohol, combined with the obvious exhaustion she had been displaying, must have just knocked her out.
Sighing heavily, he got to his feet and found the remote and turned the video reel off. Then he threw away the empty bottle. Then, carefully, he pulled her up.
Lee had been hoping that if he got Kara on her feet she would wake a little and help him out, but she appeared to be out cold and sagged against him, her face pressed into his collar. The only response he got for all the jostling was for her to cough against his neck. Her breath was warm and damp, and he remembered her coughing earlier in the rec room. He hoped she wasn't getting sick on top of everything else.
Forced to take on all of her weight, Lee shifted her around and slid an arm under her knees. He staggered slightly at the awkward position, but he wasn't about to put her over his shoulder when there was every possibility she might throw up on his back. Resigning himself to the embarrassing task of carrying the Pegasus CAG through the halls, he exited the briefing room and headed at a fast pace for her rack.
Once there he was relieved to see that there were only two pilots in their bunks, and both were asleep. He carefully deposited Kara on her bed and watched as she rolled onto her stomach. Her head was turned towards him and he let himself stare at her tear-stained face for an uncounted number of minutes.
In the dim light of the bunk room she looked younger than he had ever seen her, and more fragile than he had thought possible. Before he realized what he was doing, he had reached out and pulled her hair from its sloppy ponytail. He allowed himself to run his hand through her hair, smoothing the blonde strands away from her face.
As he let himself have this moment, Lee realized that she was right. One of these days, one or both of them were going to go out into a fight and they wouldn't come back. One of these days, it would be too late for everything they ever wanted to say.
Lee felt tears sting his eyes and, struck with a sudden urge he couldn't control, he leaned close to her and gently kissed her cheek. He let himself linger for several seconds, inhaling the scent of her – alcohol and tears and shampoo and Starbuck – then pulled back to whisper in her ear: "If I never get the chance to tell you . . . I love you."