Wrote this, because I always felt that Roslin lining up her pills was slightly strange. Always wondered if it was possible she might have had other intentions given her feelings at the time. Title comes from a lyrics from the song: "Only One" by Evanescence.
The Presidential Quarters were silent, fitting for how she felt dead inside due to nuked Earth and the cancer eating her alive. Bill tried to comfort her when he found her sitting on the ground and burning the Book of Pythia but she didn't want it. In the end Bill had been the right one she knew this deep down all these years. Had he not listened to her, and kept fighting maybe all the people lost would still be here. Had they not followed the false prophecies of Pythia, a Cylon their future would not be the waste that it now was.
She looked down at the row of pill bottles in front of her, meant to try and prolong her life. A life that she now felt no longer needed to continue. Bill hadn't stopped calling her, and Lee even however every time she ignored the call. If they got wind of any distress they would seek and destroy as all fighter pilots did. Try to identify what was wrong so it could be remedied but this was something that she didn't want fixed. One by one she laid out her medication the blue and white one was to keep her hands from trembling. She thought Bill didn't notice at times when she could barely hold a pen due to the fatigue and nausea from the dilxoin. Or the times he found her unconcious on the floor from vomiting to the point of dry heaving because she couldn't keep any food down. The red ones, the green ones, the purple and black ones. These pills only prolonged the inevitable when she would be so riddled with cancer that she would confined to a bed to be gawked at again as she lay dying.
She had always had a deep seated fear of dying the same way she had to see her mother die. Her mother was a beautiful and vibrant woman but the cancer took her bit by bit. First it took her long hair that she prided, the same hair Laura used to have. Then it took her body as she began to waste away, just like the "wasting disease" of the dying leader. She watched as she lay in a hospital bed unable to care for herself, Laura helping when she could. She loved Bill just as much as he did her and she knew with his unending loyalty he would assume the role she had. Checking over her to make sure that they moved her enough to where she didn't get sores. Now that Earth was a wasted cinder she knew what she had been living for was a lie. She looks back down at the lined up piles before picking up the glass of water on the table.
The comm range in his ear loudly for what seemed liked the hundredth time today with a huff Bill hung the up again. He was checking on Laura not simply because her people needed to hear the truth, but as a partner. Even when he found out about Hera despite it bothering him he never shut Laura out this much. Nor when they went at each other's throats over Kara, they still allowed each other in. However when he saw Laura burning one of the most important things she had with her, Bill was disturbed. Heading towards the hatch he steps out, if she won't answer then he will go to her and be there for her. He once said she lifted the people up, and right now she needed someone to lift her up.
Nodding to the Marines who were guarding outside the President's hatch they let him in no questions asked. Upon entrance he immediately knew something was wrong guards were present but Laura was nowhere to be seen. Fear gripped his heart in a vise when he spotted a pair of slender legs on the floor by the table. He found Laura face down surrounded by scattered pills and pill bottles on the floor of the deck.
"Laura… w…what did you do?"
"Medic…Medic…Get Doc Cottle" he bellows loudly to the guards standing outside.
He quickly kneels beside her turning her over to reveal that there was froth around her mouth but no other signs of injury. Bill brings his cheek to her lips hoping to feel a gentle puff of air but feels nothing- she wasn't breathing. Placing two trembling fingers on her neck, he feels nothing. There was no way of knowing how long she had been laying like this, realizing the severity of the situation. Remembering his First Aid training taught in OCS, he tries to temper his feelings as he clears her airway.
Cottle trails behind the running medics and Marines his white labcoat flying two cigarettes slip out of his coat pocket. He knew if the Admiral was demanding a medic in this manner and for him something was seriously wrong with the young lady. For once he knew that it wasn't related to her health at least not physically. Suicides had been up in the Fleet since the discovery of Earth he had, had at least 6 people come in who had attempted suicide. Word had gotten around that the President had isolated herself even from the Admiral. He could tell when they looked at each other when she was in Sick Bay how in love they were.
"Clear the damn way," the old doctor yells out as the approach the temporary quarters of the President.
They enter the room to see a distraught Admiral of the Colonial Fleet working on the collapsed President. He was murmuring to her in between chest compressions, a trail of tears glistening on his weathered cheeks.
"Please, please…. not like this."
"Admiral…we'll take it from here" the doctor says softly touching his shoulder.
Doc Cottle gently helps the Admiral up as his team swarms their patient, he directs Admiral out in the hallway in order to give him a reprieve.
The team worked diligently to revive Laura, Ishay noting that the medication around her was all prescribed by Doc Cottle. Ishay knew that given the empty pill bottles there wasn't any foul play that she did this intentionally to herself. Just like Cottle she saw the people come in who in despaired had attempted to kill themselves but none had. However, it looked like she had succeeded when they came upon her, her lips had already started turning blue from lack of oxygen. The other medic who had been working on Roslin turned to Ishay and shook his head. Ishay turned a frown on her face to Cottle who had returned after leading the Admiral out of the room with the Marines. He knew by taking a look at her that, this was likely a hopeless effort but continued because it was his duty.
"Stop…time of death…" he looks to his watch. " 1945"
The older man looks down at the floor he was kneeling on towards where the Admiral was to find him gone.
"Give me your sidearm", Adama growls as he heads in the direction of Tigh's quarters deciding now was the time they have their discussion…human to Cylon.