(And Gaius is holding his hands against a child's hot head, casting eyes up to God, watching his lies become truth as he says them. "After all I've done... Really, if you want someone to suffer, take me. We both know I deserve it. Selfish and weak. I have failed so many people. And I have killed. I'm not asking for your forgiveness. I'm just asking that you spare the life of this innocent child. Don't take him, take me. Take me, please." Did he mean it, Six asked him. Are you alive?)
Gaius looks at Lee's face, unable to solve this equation. To say it is to trumpet it. Matt. 6 says you don't pray in public and you don't wear your good works aloud. "When thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth." He nods, sadly. You can't call yourself selfless, or you stop being selfless. Your redemption flies away, like a bird. "You're right," he says sadly. "I wouldn't trust me either." He turns and leaves; he almost looks at Lee. And Lee stares after him, still wanting to believe.
And Six stands in her red dress, choking on rage and shame and sadness, looking down at the filthy woman, at the way she crawls, like a beast, waiting to die. The tears well up in his eyes, and he leans down.
"My name is Gaius Baltar, and I am here to help you."
LEE ADAMA
After dinner and too much wine, the girlfriend-stealer comes home drunk and laughing. Her face is like a bird, fluttering madly against the glass.
And Lee is asking Romo: "Think your sins are so special?"
And Joseph is waving his grandson over, where his father and brother can't hear him, Joseph is saying, "Lee, be a good boy. Just don't be too good."
There's a model Viper on his table; they are pilots. The three of them, pilots. Just like Dad, with Carolanne in the rearview mirror, getting smaller all the time. Outside it's impossibly bright; he's still wearing the clothes he wore last night. Day break.
"Holy frak," he mumbles. "I dare you," he says quietly to himself, laughing. "I double-dog-dare you." He laughs, and drops his keys on the floor.
(And on Galactica he's drunk and flailing; his wedding ring goes skittering off across the deck behind crates; he bends down to find it, knocking his skull against the bulkhead. They watch, but they don't help. He begins to weep.)













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