The shrilling of his communit woke Apollo. He fumbled for it on his bedside table. "Yeah?"

"Apollo, it's me," a voice said on the other end.

"Huh? Me who?" The voice didn't sound familiar at all. Apollo struggled to wake up, to make sense out of what was happening. His eye fell on the digital by the bedside- one eighteen am. No wonder he was tired.

"Starbuck. Look, I hate to say this, but I need your help..."

"Starbuck!" Apollo came fully awake. "What's wrong? Where are you? You sound awful. What happened?"

"I'll tell you later, okay? Just get here. I'm in that building across the street, remember the one?"

"'kay, be right out- need anything?"

"Yeah- a first aid kit." The comm went dead.

"Frack!" Apollo got out of his bed in a frantic rush. Starbuck wouldn't have called him if it wasn't bad, at least not at this hour. He sought out his clothing in the dark, then located the emergency medkit that was part of every cadet's equipment. He tried to think of anything else he might need, but he really had no idea what was wrong, so he settled for an extra jacket. Although Caprica City was pleasant year round, the nights still got bloody cold, and Starbuck probably didn't have a jacket of his own.

Silent as a shadow, Apollo slipped through the sleeping halls of the Academy. Luck was with him- he made it outside the old building without any trouble. He raced down the long driveway and out the small gate.

Across the street stood the building where he and Starbuck had first met, standing tall and spooky in the shifting mooonlight. Clouds raced across the face of the moon, pushed by a bitter cold breeze. Apollo shivered and bolted across the deserted street. Where was that side door? Over here.

He entered, blinking in the dimness. He pulled his handlight off his belt and lit it. "Starbuck?"

There was no answer. Apollo moved deeper into the building. "Starbuck? You in here?"

A muffled groan emerged from a bedroom. "In here."

Apollo followed the sound of his friend's voice. The small but intense beam of the handlight lit up his friend in harsh detail- the bruises, the smears of blood from cuts, the tears in what had been perfectly good clothing...

"What happened to you, Star?" Apollo rushed to his friend's side and knelt beside him.

"Tarsis."

"Shit." Apollo propped the handlight against the wall and pulled out his medkit. "Tell me what happened while I clean you up."

"I was avoiding him, he didn't like it. That good enough for you?" Starbuck flinched away as Apollo attacked the first of the scrapes with an antiseptic wipe.

"No, it's not. Tell me!" Apollo grabbed his friend's chin and looked closer. "You're going to have a hell of a shiner there, Bucko. I thought you could keep away from him? You said you'd be okay!"

"Yeah, well, he found me. Beat the shit out of me while I was asleep."

"But you-" Apollo reached for a new wipe to clean the grit out of a deep cut on Starbuck's jaw. Damn if that didn't look like a bootprint...

"Wake up swinging, yeah, I know. Doesn't do much good when someone nails you with a trank dart." Starbuck clenched his teeth and bit back a moan.

"A fucking trank dart! Only peacekeepers are supposed to have those!"

"Tell Tarsis that." Starbuck flinched and Apollo froze.

"What is it? Did I hurt you?" He pulled his hands away.

"Frack! No, it's okay, it's not you- it just hurts real bad there."

"Hell. Maybe you'd better take your shirt off."

Starbuck groaned, but agreed. Removing the shirt caused much swearing and involved a cooperative effort from both of them. When it was off, Apollo sat back on his heels and stared.

"Good Lords! If I ever see that bastard, I swear I'm going to kill him!" Starbuck's chest was mottled with bruises, some clearly from boots. There was already a great deal of swelling around his ribs. "Bastard! Look, Star- I can't mess with this, you need a doctor."

"Yeah, right," Starbuck gasped. He was still pale from the effort of removing his shirt. It felt like his collarbone was on fire- probably cracked or something. His right arm didn't want to move anymore. "Take me to a doctor, and they send me right back to the fracking orphanage. Why do you think I called you, and not a bloody med team?"

"I know one doctor who won't do that. Come on, you're coming with me." Apollo stood, then looked down doubtfully. "Can you walk?"

"Made it this far, didn't I?" Starbuck knew when it was useless to struggle against his friend. He held out his left hand. "Help me up, would you?"

Apollo did, then let Starbuck lean on his shoulder. He was afraid to touch his friend, in case he inadvertently hit one of those awful bruises. Starbuck swayed and panted for a moment.

"Okay, I think I can do this, if you're so damn determined."

"Damn right I am." Apollo set off slowly for the doorway to the street, abandoning everything he'd brought along without a second thought. "You need a doctor. I won't let you talk me out of it."

Slowly and painfully, the two boys made their way out of the old building. Outside, Starbuck paused for breath. "Where are we going?"

"Across the street."

"Across the street? You mean the Academy? But I can't-"

"Yes, you can," Apollo interrupted. "If there's a problem, well, I'll fix it. They can't do a damn thing to me anyways, without making fools out of themselves. Now come on."

"Okay, if you're sure..." Starbuck followed gamely, certain that he'd never make it. But he knew Apollo was right, and he really did need a doctor, so he kept trying. This was hardly the way he'd pictured his first entrance to the Academy, all battered and bloody, and without a shirt on...

The long stretch of driveway took an eternity to cross. The stairs into the actual building were even worse. By the time the boys reached the top and entered the great doors, Starbuck was unable to do much of anything. Apollo sat him down on the bench inside the front doors and hurried to the in house phone. He punched in the number for the infirmary and held his breath as he waited for someone to pick up the phone.

"Infirmary."

Apollo released his breath in an explosive sigh. "Thank the Lords! Look, I'm at the front door, and my friend's real hurt, he got beat up and can't walk any farther-"

"Whoa, son- slow down a bit. What's the problem?"

"My friend is hurt, very bad," Apollo repeated.

"And where are you at?"

"The front door."

"Okay, we'll get someone out there right away."

There was a click, and Apollo hung up his phone as well. He went to sit beside Starbuck. He looked to see where the bruises were, then decided it was safe and slipped an arm around his friend's soulders. Starbuck leaned against him with a sigh.

"You know what, Apollo?"

"What?"

"This place is fracking cold."

"Shit! I forgot, you don't have a shirt on. Here-" Apollo slipped out of his jacket and wrapped it around Starbuck. "Better?"

"Yeah, thanks." Starbuck leaned back against Apollo and waited for something to happen.

It didn't take long. Soon, a pair of medics arrived with a stretcher and bundled Starbuck onto it, despite his protests. Apollo followed them to the infirmary, where the night doctor set to work immediately. Apollo hovered in a corner, forgotten and willing to remain that way. He wanted to stay by Starbuck.

Eventually, someone discovered him. A medtech found him in his corner and pulled him out of the room.

"Sorry, but I need to ask you some questions, okay?"

"I suppose..." Apollo craned his neck for a last look at his friend as the door swung shut behind him.

"All right, first off- who are you, and who is that boy in there?"

Apollo sighed, and resigned himself to answering the endless stream of questions he'd known would come, sooner or later. It was worth it, though- he'd answer questions for hours on end if it meant Starbuck would get taken care of properly.

 

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