"Starbuck!" Two small bodies, one furred, launched themselves at the slender figure who rose at the opening of the door. He barely had time to reach out to catch the unfurred one before its momentum propelled him back into his seat. The two balls of kinetic energy resolved themselves into Boxey, no in his lap, and Muffit, wagging its mechanical tail frantically at his feet. Apollo would have followed his son and pulled him off Starbuck's lap had a hand on his shoulder not stopped him. "Give him a chance, son," Adama whispered, and Apollo nodded reluctantly. Father and son stood just outside the reading alcove and watched the scene unfold. Starbuck recovered his equilibrium and tried to gently lift the boy from his lap, but Boxey would have none of it. He threw his arms around Starbuck's neck, declaring, "I haven't seen you in so long! Grandpa said he had a present for me, but I thought he was giving me some weird rocks or something." Starbuck laughed, a sound so unfamiliar that Apollo gasped in surprise. "Will I do instead?" he asked. At the enthusiastic nod, Starbuck grinned. Then Boxey nuzzled against Starbuck and stilled for a moment. Starbuck brought a hand up to brush the unruly mop of dark hair away from his face and his sleeve fell back, revealing the ridged scar circling his wrist. Boxey caught Starbuck's hand and lifted his head from the man's chest to examine the scar. Starbuck made no move to withdraw, but sat passively, his other hand still supporting Boxey's back. Finally, the boy looked up into wary blue eyes. "What happened? Where were you all this time?" Before Apollo could intervene in any way, Starbuck replied softly, "I was in prison and then on work release. I was in shackles for a long time." He dropped his supporting arm and broke eye contact, expecting Boxey to jump off his lap and move away. Apollo felt the heart he thought couldn't break any further shatter into tiny shards as he watched Starbuck withdraw physically; only Adama's firm hand on his shoulder held him in place. Boxey didn't move except to trace the scar with one light fingertip. "Does it hurt?" he whispered. "Not really," Starbuck replied. "Scars like this don't hurt much." "You're very brave," Boxey said seriously, still staring at the scar. "I think it does hurt." He carefully took Starbuck's wrist in both of his hands and leaned forward to kiss the scar firmly. "Momma always kissed the hurt away," he explained, looking up into tear-filled blue eyes. "Did that make the hurting go away?" "Yes. Yes it did." Starbuck gathered the boy up in a tight hug that was quickly returned. "Thank you." Apollo turned from watching his son heal the man he loved most in life. Meeting his father's loving eyes, he echoed Starbuck's words: "Thank you." End. |
Healing
G
Apollo/Starbuck