Lee stopped thinking literal explosion of colour and light a long time ago, right about the same time as he met Kara Thrace and then the worlds came to an end.
Fireworks isn't watching a bright fun explosion in the sky, it's watching Kara Thrace swig back too many cups of the Chief's homemade brew and then watching Kat push all the wrong buttons until sure enough there's a fist in somebody's face.
It's watching a Cylon basestar exploding in front of your eyes, the very same eyes that can only watch as the fleet gets further and further away as you drift out of control.
Fireworks is the tempers amongst the civilians, boiling over until somebody does something stupid and somebody gets hurt. It's the anger and bitterness that has infected the entire fleet and it's the powder keg of human emotion.
They're not beautiful anymore, not in the way that Lee remembers. He can only think of explosion of emotion and the uncontrollable sprial of feeling that seems to drive the fleet apart more and more each day.
Maybe he's embittered and maybe he's not feeling all that great after his space walk into absolute oblivion, but he's stopped seeing the good in things and stopped looking for beauty in life.
Fireworks no longer mean celebration or life to one Lee Adama, they just mean that somebody gets hurt and it all ends in tears.
Muse : Lee "Apollo" Adama
Fandom : Battlestar Galactica
Word Count : 237
- Current Mood:
cold
