Title: Coming Back
Rating: T/R (For now, I don't see this straying into M/NC-17 territory, but I'll give fair warning if it does.)
Pairing: Kara/Lee, mention of Kara/Sam, Lee/Dee
Spoilers: Follows the Exodus, AU after that
Summary: The ghosts of her captivity haunt Kara. Lee notices.

Author's Note: Okay, this is long overdue. I teased new fic in like, May, and this has been languishing for quite a while. I wrote the first fifty of so pages pretty quick, but had no idea how to end it. I think I've come up with something, but I'll warn that this is WIP. However, I promise never to leave a work unfinished if I can help it. The story is currently at 70+ pages, so I'm imagining it'll be about 8-9 chapters.

Since this story is still percolating, any comments, constructive feedback or suggestions are greatly appreciated.

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Kara stared at herself in the mirror. She saw two eyes, a nose, mouth, distractedly chopped off hair. She saw skin and, apparent beneath it, bone. She saw dark shadows and a pale complexion. She saw hollowed out cheeks and a vacant expression.

She didn't see herself.

She didn't know where she was—not anymore. Not since the exodus. Sure, she pretended, fairly unconvincingly for those that knew her, to be fine, but Kara Thrace, the indomitable Starbuck was MIA.

Where did she go?

Was she left behind on New Caprica? A victim of one Cylon's obsession?

The word made her shiver and Kara turned the water on as hot as it would go, splashing the lukewarm liquid on her face. She'd been a victim only twice in her life – once, at the hands of her mother and once at the hands of the Cylons. She was uncomfortable with the term. It was normally attached to weak-willed, spineless creatures who could not or would not fight back.

Oh, Kara fought back all right—viciously—with fists and kicks and mental salvos. Kara was a fighter, it was in her make-up.

Apparently that aspect of her personality had been lost as well.

Turning off the water, Kara reached for a gray, threadbare towel. Wiping down her hands, she smoothed the rough fabric over her arms, circling the large winged tattoo there.

This should have been lost as well. The tattoo, her marriage, her frakked up excuse for normalcy. It was a pipe dream and the idea that she had once reached for it – once wanted it – made Kara's stomach turn.

"Hey, baby."

Sam's honeyed tone set her nerves on edge as his arms snaked around her waist. Kara's spine went rigid as his lips pressed softly behind her ear.

"I woke up and you were gone," he murmured against her skin. Kara stayed still. "You all right?"

"Fine. Just needed a shower." Sam stiffened behind her and then straightened, meeting her gaze with a hard one of his own that told her he'd more than understood the implication.

"That's frakkin' great, Kara."

She shrugged one shoulder, truly indifferent. She was simply glad he was no longer touching her. It unnerved her to be close, to be intimate. It wasn't possible anyway, was it? How could he touch someone who didn't exist?

"It's the truth."

"Well, that's a nice change of pace," Sam spit back as Kara dropped the towel and turned to leave. He grabbed her elbow and held firm. "We're not done."

Kara's eyes alighted to his hand clenching her skin and then slowly rose back to his face. "I fulfilled my wifely obligation, Sam," she reminded him in a low tone, glad to see his cheeks flush at the memory of the frantic, almost violent sex they'd had thirty minutes ago. "What else is there?"

"A marriage, Kara," he told her, voice dropping low. "We are married and we used to be happy."

Kara didn't remember that. She remembered no emotion but the vast yawning emptiness that currently consumed her. It seemed impossible for any other emotion to exist.

Voice lifeless, gaze steady, she easily removed Sam's hand from her arm. "Whatever else we had is done. If you want a quick frak, come and find me. If you want something else, that's your problem."

Without waiting for his rebuttal, Kara pushed open the hatch and got as far away from Sam and his pleading gaze as fast as she could.

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Kara was in trouble.

Lee had told himself he didn't care—he shouldn't care—but as the weeks following the exodus passed, he knew something was wrong with her.

She was vulnerable, contrary to popular belief; she did feel things and she felt them deeply. Lee had firsthand knowledge of course, being the one who'd held her up following Zak's death; being the one who'd forced her to finally admit she loved him under the New Caprican sky.

The memory was so sharp Lee was forced to stop, gripping the nearest bulkhead for support. How he'd hated her that next morning; how he'd hated her for the entire eighteen months they'd been on New Caprica; how he'd hated her during the four months they'd planned the return and rescue.

How he'd hated her until he'd seen her step off the Raptor, with a blonde-haired child in her arms. How he'd hated her until he'd witnessed another woman rush forward to pull the kid away from Kara, who simply stood there dumbfounded. How he'd hated her until he'd watched her push Sam away and stand there, all alone, looking absolutely lost.

Lee couldn't muster the energy to hate her anymore. Not now, when they were so firmly back in each other's orbits, her on the flight roster and acting like his hotshot, problem pilot, and him her CAG once again, giving her orders she rarely followed. But despite the severe dislike he had for her bouts of insubordination, and her damn kissable lips, he couldn't hate her. Especially not when he could see her heading for a meltdown; especially not when he knew she drank herself into a stupor most nights, sleeping anywhere but in her bunk. And certainly not sleeping with her husband as Sam spent more of his time on the Rising Star than Galactica.

"Hey, CAG."

Lee turned, forced back to the present as Hot Dog approached. "Costanza, what's up?"

"Well, I know it's not my place, but …" The kid studied the decking with an intensity he usually saved for the battered Caprican Hotties magazine he had under his mattress.

"Spit it out, Hot Dog."

"Starbuck, she, well, she just kind of went ballistic on the deck."

He bit back a curse. He was equal parts furious and concerned. Kara's outbursts had been confined to small spaces since she'd been back; never before, to his knowledge had she lost it in front of a large group of people. And for Hot Dog to risk his life (Starbuck would certainly kill him) to report it to Lee, it had to be bad.

Maybe it was finally time for him to pull his head out of his ass and approach her. Lee had hoped Kara might make the first move, but olive branches and doves had never been much her style. Fists and blood: that was Kara Thrace's language of negotiation

"Thanks, Hot Dog. Any idea where she went?"

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Kara stalked into the ready room, chest heaving with anger that didn't match the incident on the deck. It didn't matter. Ever since her return, her emotional responses were polar opposites: she either felt nothing or she felt absolute rage.

Helo called her on it first, cornered her one-day in the gym and offered to replace the heavy bag as her sparring partner. The look on his face when she refused was priceless. It was hurt and fear and just a twinge of anger all rolled into one.

He pressed for details, spending an additional ten minutes or so trying to get her to talk. When she continued to stonewall him, he simply threw up his hands and walked away.

Helo's attempt to reach Kara started a string of similar interventions by the most unlikely people: Kat, Racetrack, Hot Dog, Sharon – hell, even Tigh approached her.

Which was what had precipitated her most current rant.

"I am frakkin' fine!" she had screamed in her XO's face before hurtling the wrench she held halfway across the deck and storming off. Even now, five minutes later, Kara was still breathing hard.

Why wouldn't they just leave her be? Why couldn't any of them see that the Starbuck they had known was gone? Why couldn't they just leave her in peace to live whatever kind of worthless existence she had left? Now that she was back in the sky it was only a matter of time before she met her end.

"Captain?"

Sighing, Kara turned slowly to the door. "It's just lieutenant now, Chief."'

Galen dipped his head in apology and ventured another few steps into the room. "Everything all-"

Kara held up a hand, her eyes boring into his and making him blush. "I swear to the Gods, if you ask me if I'm all right, I'll make it so Nicky is your only offspring."

Kara expected Galen to shrink away at her threat, it normally worked on everyone else. Instead, he surprised her and simply laughed, a deep chuckle that echoed in the room. "I've no doubt, Lieutenant."

Kara couldn't hide the small smirk that graced her lips. Despite everything, the Chief was still an easy-going guy, still able to offer a smile.

"Look, before … on the deck." Kara sucked at apologies. She often felt remorse, but the ability to actually verbalize it seemed beyond her. "I'm sorry."

Galen's smile simply widened. "Considering the past few months, I figure you're entitled to throw more than a wrench."

Kara felt the color drain from her face. So, he was going to pry. "Chief-"

"Starbuck." For some reason she let him interrupt. "I'm not saying any of us are gonna understand what you went through." Kara's eyes cut to the floor, studying the gray decking as the Chief continued. "But a lot of us were down there too, L.T. And we'd be willing to listen."

Kara only nodded, unable to speak. She knew there were people who wanted to help her or at least pretended. But Kara knew it wouldn't help. Admitting what had happened on New Caprica, what she'd gone through, what she lost, wouldn't lessen her pain.

It would lessen everyone else's guilt. Kara was less than concerned. The Chief cleared his throat, bringing Kara's mind back to the present. He turned to go and the next words out of her mouth surprised her. "Chief, do you – Do you ever think this is a dream?" She forced her eyes to his face, not surprised to see compassion shining back at her. "Ever think we weren't really rescued?"

It was one possible explanation for the – well, everything she felt. Or didn't. One possible reasoning for the numbness; the only one she could remotely handle.

"At least twice a day," the Chief confided with a heavy sigh.

Kara's eyes widened as he gave credence to her worst fear. "What if it is?"

He sighed again, the exhalation causing his shoulders to sag. "The worst thing the Cylons did was break us, Kara." He held her gaze and Kara couldn't speak, couldn't breathe for the understanding she saw reflected back at her. "Don't let them keep doing it. We're back home, back with our friends, our family." He slapped the nearest wall, a metallic ring echoing past her – through her. "She's as solid as the day she was made."

Kara nodded slightly, unaware she was once again alone until she heard the hatch close. Glancing around the empty, dim room, Kara felt the weight of the place pushing down her.

Memories invaded her consciousness: laughs shared over mission briefings and pilot meetings; shouts exchanged in heated battles. Hot Dog, Racetrack, Helo, Kat, Crashdown, Flattop, Boomer … endless names matched with faces, smiles, twinkling eyes and hard glares. Kara felt the room tilt and reached out a hand, steadying herself against the podium.

Faces, eyes, smiles all coalesced into one unforgettable set – Lee.

She bowed her head, banishing the immediate sense memory his name brought. She didn't have the emotional wherewithal or the physical strength to relive their night on New Caprica. Their night and the next morning when she'd done everything in her power to push him away. And it had worked – spectacularly.

Kara shivered, hands rubbing along her bare arms. She was always so cold now. It was as if the damp chill from the planet had melded to her bones, sinking into the marrow until it was only ice.

She needed to get out of here now. Before someone found her and asked again if she wanted to talk.

"Kara."

Lee's voice cut her to the core and she visibly gasped, glad her hand was still bracing the podium. Turning, she caught only a flash of his blue eyes before she found it hard to breathe.

Without a word, she brushed past him and hit the corridor beyond at a run.

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He followed her to the gym, keeping his distance so as not to spook her, but making sure to keep her in his line of sight as well. The pure desolation he'd seen in Kara's eyes for the split second she'd looked at him in the rec room had stolen Lee's breath. He had known Kara Thrace for quite a while and never before had he seen her look that lost. Never before had he felt, just by looking at her, that she was slipping away.

Lee slowed his pace once he reached the gym, taking a quick peek inside to find Kara lacing up gloves, ready to again pound the heavy bag into submission. Surprisingly, she was the gym's only occupant. He hung back, still not sure if he should even try and approach her. There were so many things he wanted to say. So many things he wanted to do, the least of which was wrap her up in his arms and hold on tight. He doubted she'd ever let him.

When the only sound he could hear was the steady thump of her wrists against the bag, Lee decided it was all or nothing. Being Kara's friend—loving Kara—was never easy. There was no reason that should change now.

He entered the room, closing the hatch and spinning the wheel to deter any unexpected guests. For a moment, he indulged in just watching her. Since her return, Kara had done everything she could to avoid him, disappearing immediately after CAPs, sliding into briefings just seconds before they began, avoiding the bunkroom at all costs. He hadn't even seen her in the head except for maybe once. Lee had briefly entertained the idea of seeking her out in the enlisted's bathroom, following her there and demanding answers, but he knew it was too personal. And he knew that if confronted with Kara's naked form, he was as likely to hug as punch her. He didn't think she'd take kindly to either response.

Silence forced him to focus on her again, and he inhaled a silent breath as Kara fell forward, arms loosely wrapped around the bag, as she took large, gulping breaths. For a moment he thought she might be crying. The idea made him panic even more.

Taking a step forward, Lee cleared his throat. It had the desired effect; Kara all but jumped out of her skin, whirling to face him. Red-faced and sweaty, with her hair clinging to her temples and the front of her tanks soaked, she narrowed her eyes at him, giving him her best glare before deliberately turning away. She brought one glove to her mouth, beginning to rip it off with her teeth and Lee knew he had maybe five minutes before she fled. He couldn't let her.

"Kara, tell me what happened on New Caprica."

Her body went completely still, one glove dangling from her left hand. Lee held his breath, waiting for her to speak, waiting for her to react in some way, but after another minute, there was nothing. She simply shook her head once and then continued to work at her gloves.

Lee knew he was asking for trouble, at the very least he suspected he wouldn't leave this room without at least a black eye. But he had to know. He had thought distancing himself from Kara, forcing himself to forget, would ease the ache in his chest, would ease the longing he felt for her night after night. For a time, he had used Dee as a poor substitute, ending that charade shortly after they'd jumped away from New Caprica. Leaving Kara behind, possibly for good, had forced him to realize that he would never be rid of her. There was no place in this universe he could go where Kara's memory, her body, her fire, her love, would not haunt him.

So now, he was haunted with images of things that might have happened on the surface, horrendous, dark scenarios that Lee's subconscious created to explain her behavior since the exodus. Not knowing for sure was slowly driving him mad.

"Kara, talk to me."

"Nothing happened." She threw at him over her shoulder, shoving the gloves into a locker and starting to pick at the tape underneath. "The Cylons came. They took over. We rebelled. The end."

He took a breath, considering. Kara was quickly spiraling out of control, like a viper with a clipped wing. And regardless of anything else they might be to each other, she was his wingman. It was his job to save her from herself, in the sky or out of it.

Determining that today was as good a day to die as any other, he stepped forward, and managed to get his hand on her elbow, tugging her to face him. She whirled body tense for a fight and Lee relaxed his hold immediately. But he didn't let go. Instead, he kept his hand on her forearm, stroking the ridiculously soft skin near her elbow. He stared at her, holding her gaze, silently daring her to shrug him off, but she didn't. He swore he heard the slightest hitch in her breath as he took a step closer and lowered his voice.

"Kara, please. Tell me what happened."

She swallowed so hard he saw it and his eyes were momentarily focused on the long column of her neck. Gods, despite his anger, despite his very wounded pride, he wanted to attach his lips there and taste her. He missed her.

"You don't want to know, Lee." She pulled her arm free finally, but didn't wrench it away as he'd feared. "Drop it."

Lee sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck as he felt his tension pooling at the top of his spine. "I want to help," he told her, meaning it with every fiber of his being.

"Bullshit," she spat, taking a step closer and lowering her voice to a deadly growl once more. "This has nothing to do with me and everything to do with you and your guilt."

Eyes wide, Lee stared at her for a moment, trying to find the logic in her statement. When he couldn't piece it together, he asked, "Guilt over what?"

Her eyes darted to the opposite wall, arms folding across her chest. He would have said the stance was defiant, but the closer he looked the more Lee was convinced it was defensive. She was protecting herself again—from him. The pain of that cut deeper than just about any other.

"You left us there," she told him, voice still low but enough venom dripping from her lips to fell a small mammal. "You and the fleet ran away the minute the Cylons showed up. You left us!" Her last statement was a strangled shout and it left her trembling. Backing away from him, she slumped against the nearest wall and again took large, heaving breaths.

Lee watched in stunned silence waiting for whatever she was going to say next. He couldn't have formed a reply if he'd tried. After several moments, she lifted her eyes to his. Some of the anger had faded, but the betrayal and sadness were still there. "As far as I'm concerned, you forfeited any right to know what happened the minute you jumped away."

He had no response. Lee simply stood there, shocked as Kara held his gaze for another moment and then quickly left.

He let her go. He could barely breathe past the thundering of his heart. Guilt and anger at himself, the Cylons, the Fleet; emotions he had tried to bury over the past few months raged within him. He knew she was right. Knew it deep down, in his bones. Knew it because he had told himself the same thing every night they had been away from New Caprica. It had been his idea, his cowardice that had caused them to run—his fear that had left Kara there. She had every right to be furious with him.

Lee leaned heavily against the wall, uncertain where to go from here. Penetrating Kara Thrace's defenses was nothing short of a full-scale invasion. Lee wasn't at all convinced he could do it. True, he'd been waffling for the last few weeks, uncertain if approaching her was the right thing to do; uncertain if he could without lashing out at her for leaving him, naked and alone on New Caprica; for marrying another man.

But knowing Kara as he did, knowing the warning signs, he also knew none of this was about him. It was about Kara, about restoring her faith in him, in the fleet, in herself. It was about making her feel safe without her even realizing it. A tall order sure, but Lee was done pretending Kara's pain didn't effect him. Often, it was the only thing that did.

With a long sigh, Lee studied the deserted gym. He wasn't certain anything would help Kara move past all that had happened, but he was going to try.