Taking something this personal and painful out beyond Galactica's sickbay, where anyone can hear it or sing it for themselves...it's why Gaeta told the truth, when he said he rarely sang in public.
But as he continues, Azimar's voice clear and fine and Gaeta's laying an unobtrusive platform beneath it, something eases below his sternum. It's a strange feeling; not because he hasn't felt it before, but because he has.
"To have her please just one day wake..."
In fact, it reminds him of nothing so much as his last night on Galactica, chain-smoking with Gaius and telling -- confessing -- everything, from the most mundane childhood events to his quiet fears. Not of what waited for him the next morning, but of what he'd be leaving behind.
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Taking something this personal and painful out beyond Galactica's sickbay, where anyone can hear it or sing it for themselves...it's why Gaeta told the truth, when he said he rarely sang in public.
But as he continues, Azimar's voice clear and fine and Gaeta's laying an unobtrusive platform beneath it, something eases below his sternum. It's a strange feeling; not because he hasn't felt it before, but because he has.
"To have her please just one day wake..."
In fact, it reminds him of nothing so much as his last night on Galactica, chain-smoking with Gaius and telling -- confessing -- everything, from the most mundane childhood events to his quiet fears. Not of what waited for him the next morning, but of what he'd be leaving behind.
Against his stump, his hand loosens its grip.