Author: Regency
Title: Rage
Pairing: None
Category: Angst
Spoilers: Home part 2
Summary: And the rage came spilling out.
Disclaimer: Not mine, there ya go.
~~~
He held in the rage when they called him paranoid.
He held in the agony when his son was killed, as by his own hand as by Kara’s
leniency.
He restrained the grief when they destroyed the world and life he knew.
He bottled up the fear when he realized that he and the schoolteacher were all
they had left.
He swallowed back the bile as the death toll rose, and desperation swamped his
subconscious.
He cooled the volcano when that school teacher went off the rails.
He concealed his disbelief when his baby boy turned against him.
He was swallowed by death as all that remained came crumbling around him in a
pool of blood and oblivion that didn’t last long enough.
He began to shatter when he opened his eyes.
He buried the rage, then. He buried the tears. He knew they’d return with
a vengeance in time.
He forwent a battle cry as the sight of his son’s siren -- the school teacher.
He was no longer at war with her. They had a common enemy to fight and defeat. All would be lost, if not.
The ire bubbled up as the bodies crumpled around him; his children, his colleagues,
his friends. The fury was unimaginable, and untenable.
His breath came out in heavy puffs, the back of his throat stinging with iron.
His sweaty fingers tightened around his weapon, his senses sharpened to a needlepoint. He whirled in hard circle taking out
everything that glinted and anything that moved.
He didn’t stop when the gun was empty. He didn’t stop until two steadier
hands than his pried it from his pale, bloodless fingers. They were numb.
But the rage had been evoked. The center of his chest on fire, he screamed. He
pushed away his only calming influence and screamed until he was too weak to stand, falling to his knees; his voice continuing
to ring out.
He did not hear his pride and joy being held back by hands that knew better. He
did not see them straining against their captors to reach him and end his suffering. He did not see them falling to their
knees, pleading to be let go.
His rage had blinded him, his pain had deafened him. His shout became a guttural
sob that wracked his aching wound, and then a groan when it became too excruciating to weep.
Finally, his voice spent to the last and his energy drained, he collapsed to the
support of his hands that sank into the sodden mud. He was wet, dirty, pained, and grieving because they could never go back.
He let his head drop as reality filtered in to his foggy mind. Some yards away,
Lee was on his knees beside Kara. Both pairs of blue eyes glinted; perhaps from the rain or from something more somber. Their
President was behind them; stoic, soggy and lovely. No doubt, his outburst had alerted the Cylons to their location. They’d
have leave soon.
He passed out of this phase to find himself, and became again the man he’d
promised them he was. Rising from the ashes of the events before, he stood taller and stronger, and more certain of what came
next; certain that something did.
“Let’s get to the temple and then, get off of this Gods forsaken planet.”
Silence reigned momentarily, but slight murmurs took and no acknowledgment was given to the roughness of his voice. It wouldn’t
be spoken of other than in the dark ends of a private moment or the candlelight of a reconciliation. It was over.
The rage had been sated…
But only until the next betrayal.
