Taking a deep breath, Lee Adama spins around away from the tent, his gun raised and ready to fire at the intruder.
Only to have his own heart thump so wildly upon seeing his father (alive, oh thank the gods, he is alive) that he wonders how it hasn't leapt out of his chest yet. He freezes, his white-knuckled hands gripping the gun so tightly, his body straining with the effort of keeping his arms from trembling at the shock.
He's always been good at staying in control.
Around him, he barely notices Kara and Helo lowering their weapons in astonishment; last they heard, the commander of the Battlestar Galactica had been shot twice in the chest and was on the verge of death, and yet now he stands before them with a gun trained on them all.
Something told Lee that he should probably lower his gun as well, but the only thing running through his head is that his father is standing in front of him. On Kobol. Looking very much alive, if a little more gaunt than normal.
"Put down your weapon, Captain," his father says steadily, his own weapon not wavering in the least.
It occurs to Lee that his father could very well shoot him where he stood for all that he'd done. Putting a gun to his father's second-in-command. Mutinying against the commanding officer. Breaking his parole. Aiding and abetting Laura Roslin in her escape from the Galactica. Splitting the fleet in two. Being a fugitive on the run. And his father would have every right to put a bullet through Lee at this instant.
And, Lee realizes, he couldn't care less about that at the moment. His father is alive, standing in front of him. He lowers his gun, placing it back into its holster. Adama does the same, shifting the gun to his left hand and stepping forward, his face studiously passive.
Instinctively, Lee retreats a step, regretting it immediately. Years of backing away and distancing himself from his father after Zak's death and the habit has yet to wear off. He purposefully stills himself, and is embarrassed that tears (of relief? of fear?) suddenly spring to his eyes. There's nothing to cry about, he berates himself mentally.
Blinking back the tears, he looks down hesitantly, unsure of what comes next. Most of the time, either one of the Adama men would have spun away angrily and stalked off, leaving the other seething in rage. He's still not used to what happens next.
His father pulls him in with his right hand, and embraces him so tightly that for a moment, Lee forgets to breath. He can hear his father sniffling against his shoulder, and in his mind's eye, he can only see how the stoic expression on his father's face crumples a split second before they hug.
Lee can't take it anymore. All the tension and the nightmares and the pent-up fear of the past few weeks just spill out, leaving a gaping empty space behind, and he finds himself clutching tightly at his father in sheer desperate relief. He buries his face in his father's shoulder like he used to as a boy, muffling the last few hitched breaths in his father's uniform.
Here, on Kobol, Lee Adama finally learns the meaning of home.
Bill Adama stands half-hidden in the foliage, wondering how long it'll take before his presence is discovered. The camp in front of him looks human enough; out of the corner of his eye, he is surprised to see the familiar face of Helo. He'd thought the pilot died on Caprica.
Bringing his attention back to the present, he realizes that his son is nowhere in sight. For a moment, a seizure of fear and panic grips his heart as he remembers the words in the scriptures. A price of blood, it read. Had it already been paid?
And then Lee steps out from behind the tent and it's all Adama can do not to sink to the ground in relief. His son is pale in shock. Adama can't help but wonder if Lee is stunned to see that he's alive, or if the boy is simply pale in fear of the consequences of his mutinous actions.
Adama finally finds the strength to generate a few words. "Put down your weapon, Captain." He looks at his son critically as Lee appears to take a moment to register his father's words. The boy has deep shadows under his eyes, and his features are worn with what Adama recognizes as fatigue and sleepless nights.
He suddenly realizes that even in choosing opposing sides, Lee has proven himself to be stronger and more steadfast than expected. His son chose what he believed in, what his conscience told him was right, and stood by his decision regardless of the consequences.
And Adama understands now that in the war of politics and command, it is Lee who has the clearest view of what needs to be done. His son was governed only by the principles that kept the colonies running, not the petty loyalties that have fractured the fleet.
Overcome by a rush of indescribable emotion, he reaches around and pulls his son towards him, enveloping him in a hug so strong, he wishes he could never let go. The previous sting of betrayal is all but gone now, and he can only cling on tightly to his remaining son. Family is the only thing he has left in the world, and Bill Adama will be damned before he lets it slip away from his hands again.
He feels Lee trembling against him, and is delighted by the staggering relief when his son fervently returns the embrace. Father and son holding onto each other for dear life, when everything else has been taken away from them; how long it took for them to realize this moment.
Here, on Kobol, Bill Adama finally learns the meaning of family.