Bill Adama prided himself on being a brave man, a loyal man after all! He was the Admiral of the Colonial Fleet. However, some battles cannot be won, however, not even for one of the most decorated Viper pilots still alive. Some things you could not seek and destroy with a missile, cancer was something he couldn't destroy. It's not an enemy craft that could be identified by the DRADIS, but could only be detected by Cottle. He had been avoiding sickbay like the plague which he was ashamed of. He hated seeing a vibrant woman like Laura bedridden. He was finally snapped out of his persistent drunken stupor when Cottle informed him that Laura always woke up asking for him when she saw his chair empty. She would wake up worried that something had happened to him.

As a result he now found himself standing in front of the isolated bed of the President of the Twelve Colonies. Cottle had informed him upon entry that she had been silent today, not speaking much. Her latest test results showed that the cancer had reached her brain and as they believed had taken residence in her lungs. Sitting Searider Falcon on a side table near the IV pole, he sat silently in the chair. Hesitantly he reached out and picked up her hand noting how cold it felt, as well as how mottled and blotchy her arm had become.

"Mother…"

Looking up he notices that Laura has begun to stir and was looking at the foot of the bed. Running his hand over the back of her hand caught her attention.

"No….honey…it's me" he says holding back tears.

Cottle had informed him that she was starting to talk about people who had been long since dead. She had even started to talk to Billy Keikeya, her trusted aide.

Bringing her hand up to his lips he gently kissed it before placing it back down on the bed.

A young medic entered carrying a tray with a bowl of greenish looking soup in, blushing at the intrusion she obviously had made. Placing the tray on the stand by the bed she hurriedly closes the curtain without saying a word. Laura silently closes her eyes at the sight of the food which wiped the soft smile off of his face. He was still trying to convince himself that maybe getting some food into her would help her. With a sigh he takes Searider Falcon and adjusting his glasses begins to read, his voice gently lulling her back to sleep. He continues even after he realizes that she has long since entered deep sleep. Finally sitting the book back down he takes in her features. Her face was gaunt, her skin pale and almost grey in appearance. Her cheeks no longer had her usual high youthful look instead they were sunken in. When Pythia wrote of a wasting disease did they even have a word for what cancer was?

Soon…too soon the same young medic from before returned pushing the tray of untouched food outside of the curtained off area, returning right after. On the tray that had held the food she had a small tub that had suds in it stating she was sent to clean the older woman up. With a shake of his head, motioned for the woman to leave.

"I'll do it"

"But…sir"

"I said I'll do it…in the meantime go get Doc Cottle if there is a problem. She deserves more then to be poked and prodded by you all the time. I'm the one who should be taking care of her". Ever since Cottle had told him her test result he hadn't had a drink he was starting to become irritable.

He turns back to Laura to gently rouse her from sleep, treating the woman as if she isn't even in the room anymore. Blinking she makes out the form of Bill, as her eyes adjust to the low light of her curtained off space. She smiles wearily watching as Bill removed his uniform coat wringing out a soapy sponge in his tanks. Picking her arm up Bill gently begins to clean her arm before reaching the short sleeve, then working the front of it down to clean her front.

"Mmmh sexy…nurse" she says softly.

Her attempt at humor gives Bill a feeling of happiness before he turns to close curtain more so he can pull gown down in privacy.

"Hey…you don't want to make Cottle and the others jealous, now do you?" he says arching an eyebrow in mirth.

30 minutes later, he is perched on the side of the rack after he changed her into a clean gown. Gently moving her over he works his way fully onto the rack. With a sigh he pulls her halfway onto his chest running his hand along her back event though he could feel ridges of her spine and the outline of her ribs. She had become emaciated since she had stopped treatment, her body no longer concerned with fighting a losing battle. He began to drift off to sleep while holding her which is how Doc Cottle found them when arrived 3 hours later for his rounds.