Chapter Text
Before today, Bill could never of imagined himself concerned that Laura looked too healthy. Secretly he had prayed for this day. This day when she would smile the rarest of her smiles, again. She had many smiles. Of cordiality, of hope, of censure, of grim determination. He used to pray for the one that reached her eyes. The one that spoke of joy, love, contentment. Peace above all else. He had only seen it once. Felt it all too briefly, as she lay with her head on his chest as the New Caprican dawn broke on its two newest lovers.
Worst thing I ever did, was letting her go.
She hadn’t wanted to let it go. He had made her. The half remembered conversation drifted, fleetingly through his cabin. Replayed itself on his couch, before his very eyes. She had kept that promise at least. I’ll be back on Galactica in a few days and if you like, we can talk some more about that night... So much had happened. So much time apart. He had imagined the heartache he felt at leaving her there do die, had been his alone, borne of grief and guilt and only sometimes when the darkness of his thoughts allowed it- the briefest flash of sorrow for his lost love. He had fought it. He had made himself believe that it had been only as it appeared to be: a drunken, stoned frak in the sand. And yet, as they all knew by now, things were rarely as they appeared to be.
She had sat there and told him he could believe what he liked. But they both knew the truth.
“We can fight it. If that’s what you want. We can say we have responsibilities, and no time. We can say it was a mistake. But it won’t make it easier. And it won’t change how we feel.” He remembers the short sharp sentences. He remembers her laying it all out then like a politician. He remembers it being too much like strategy and tactics. He remembers not liking it at all. He couldn’t break that. It was all far too real. Far too whole and part of their everyday lives that way. So he had tried to find Her in all this. He had taken her hand in his and asked:
“and what do you feel Laura.”
“I feel. For the first time, in a really long while, I feel like I’m living.”
He remembers her giggling through unshed tears. And still, even though time has mended the rift between them. He still hates what he did. He had nodded firmly. Stroked her hair. Her face , her lips. The ghost of intention on his fingertips. “Me too.” And she had shut her eyes. Leaned into that touch. He had kissed her forehead. Lingering longer than he ought to, before standing up. Putting distance between them. He had straightened his uniform. Stood tall. Marking the boundaries, erecting the walls of professionalism before her very eyes.
“And that’s why, I can’t do this. It’s a luxury we can’t afford to get lost in.” He could see her now frozen in her seat. So still, before standing, straightening her jacket as if it was the end of a long drawn out meeting. In a sense he supposed it was.
He remembers her as the hard cold image of himself. Professional. All Madam President and no Laura in sight. The cold green ice of her gaze, fury blazing underneath. She had held out her hand. He had taken it. Tried hard not to squeeze it too tightly. Forced himself to let her go.
“Well thank you Admiral. It’s good to know where you stand on this. I’ll see myself out.”
She has still not entirely forgiven me for that. Nor should she, he thinks. he had made her feel alive, and then he had broken her. For the selfish reason that he knew it would be easier to be around her that way. It had worked. After that there had only been the President. Only occasionally in her weakest of moments did Laura slip back into view. Baltar’s trial. The cancer. Even then she barely let him in. He couldn’t blame her. He had broken her heart that day. Just like she was breaking his now. Their love was cruel. Deliberate. They hurt each other with it.
It was only when she was gone – kidnapped. Stolen away from him on some unknown Cylon Basestar, did he realise that she had been right all along. He loved all of her, even the parts that were difficult to see. Pretending he didn’t love her, only parts of her, didn’t make her loss hurt any less. He had thought her words foolish and naive, and perhaps they were – but then, there is often great wisdom, in the words of the fool. Something had changed for her too. Alone in the dark, in the cold deep recesses of that ship she had found herself again. She told him she had seen something, something she didn’t like - in the vision of her own demise. She wouldn’t tell him what. Only that she refused to go out that way. Only that she thought it was way past time she said the words she knew he would never say first:
“I love You.” Again wrapped in his arms, this time not joy in her smile but fear of the emptiness of all she had borne witness to, etched on her face.
“’bout time” For the life of him he didn’t know why it had come out that way. Yes it was about time. About time they admitted it to themselves. Admitted it to others. Admitted that it was time to live. He had explained it afterwards. And it had been like they were back on his couch discussing that night on New Caprica. – laughter through tears. Incredulity that he was not pushing her away this time.
No, this time that had been her role. Her orders to him:
The determination with which she had told him to lay down arms and in the same breath told him to destroy the bastestar, All he had heard was destroy me. If it comes to that. The same eerie stillness with which she had whispered a single word on that Fraking planet. “Earth” all he had heard was so this is our destruction. Then “get me out of here” He had only heard her breaking again. And then:
Don’t. Don’t touch me
Go. Just go.
Trust me. I just need a little time. Go.
And it was complete. She had already left him. In leaving he had almost let her.
As he sat there dozing in his chair, his last thoughts were: This time I’ll find a way. This time I’m not letting you go. Not any part of you.
Yes, sometimes there was wisdom in the words of the fool. But sometimes, he knew, they were just as stupid as they sounded.
It was the comm. unit that woke him. He moved over to it. Half giddy with sleep and a plan.
“Adama”
“umm.. Bill you may wanna poke your head outside of your cabin..”
“What’s going on Jack.”
“We’ll see I don’t really know how to say this, see its a bit odd. Damned odd to say the least, not to mention unethical”
“Fast and straight I’d advise.” A sigh and what sounded like the click of a lighter and the deep inhalation of cigarette smoke on the other end of the line.
“She missed her treatment. Again. Now I’ve just been told she’s running round the ship.”
“Running?”
“Yeah Running. You know one foot in front of the other in quick succession you should try it sometime. The President on the other hand....”
“will it hurt her chances.?”
“The running? No not at all. Wish I could get all my patients to run like she is. But the break in her treatment will. She should be here laying on her back in sickbay. This elation she’s feeling isn’t going to last. Its just her body coming off the treatment, and after that, well its a long ride downhill pretty fast.”
He nodded.
“ Don’t worry. I’ll see to it.”
“Bill.” Another long intake of breath. The crackling of a burning cigarette.
“Yeah”
“Don’t push her. I’ve tried that. She’ll only push back.”
“Yeah. I know”
He put the handset back in the cradle.
“Mother frak...son of a..”
He looked himself over in the mirror. Brushed his teeth . pulled on his uniform. All the while thinking; Ok, Laura. This is gonna stop. I’m coming to find you. He had to make her want to live. He just didn’t know how, or what to say. Part of him understood her rationale all too well. Every one has their limits. These was hers. She was drawing her line in the sand, making an end for herself. An end to the pain, to turmoil to stress and heartache. And after Earth, after cancer, and presidency and false prophecy, after all of this. He didn’t know what he could possibly say. What he could possibly do to make her rethink where and when that line should be drawn.
He left to do it anyway. He would bluff his way through it if he had too.