Sons and Daughters

Her knock on the hatch went unanswered. For a moment, she debated just leaving but knew she wouldn't…couldn't. Instead she pushed it open, relieved to have at least found it unlocked.

She took a step inside and saw him immediately, slumped on the couch. He was awake but either didn't realize she was there or just chose not to respond. She walked further inside. Her eyes were drawn to the table in front of him, to the shattered remnants of a model ship that lay there. She'd seen it often – it had been in his office as long as she could remember. She knew how much work he'd put in it and now, seeing it destroyed, her heart broke all over again.

She was only a few feet away from the couch when he finally looked up.

"Laura."

*

"Laura…"

There was a pause, during which he assumed she was debating whether to continue hanging up on him. Finally he heard a soft sigh, followed by her voice.

"What is it, Bill?"

"I'm sorry about what happened."

Another pause. "I know you are. That doesn't change anything."

"No, it doesn't. But if there's anything I can do…"

"You've done e-" She stopped mid-sentence but it was clear to them both what she had been about to say. "I'll let you know if I think of anything. Is that all?"

"Yes. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

He put the phone down and sat silently for a moment, thinking about what to do next.

*

Laura stood silently for a moment, thinking about what to do next. "Can I get you anything?" she asked eventually.

He grunted. "I could use a drink."

That wasn't surprising. Laura quickly walked over to the service table and poured one for him, then walked back over and handed him the glass. He downed it in one long gulp, causing her to wince inside and out.

"May I sit down?"

Bill shrugged. "Do what you like."

She walked around the table and settled herself down beside him. And realized, not for the first time since she'd arrived here, that she had no idea what to do next.

*

Bill had no idea what to do next.

After having one too many of his calls go unreturned – or dealt with by the new aide, Terry – he had finally come to Colonial One in person, just after dinner. And now he was standing in the President's office with Laura sitting there, staring at him and waiting for him to do something.

He didn't have a frakking clue what that something should be.

"What do you want, Admiral?"

It was a good question. Too bad he didn't have a good answer…at least not one he could tell her.

"You've been avoiding me."

She smiled, that cold politician's smile that never reached her eyes or changed the tone of her voice. "Yes," she admitted, "but only concerning personal matters. Any important fleet business has had my utmost of attention."

He couldn't deny that but it didn't exactly make him happier about the situation. He suspected the same was true of her.

"Laura-"

"Admiral," she said, quickly cutting him off, "if that's all I am afraid I am going to have to ask you to leave. I have some pressing business to attend to, not to mention wanting to get a decent night's sleep."

He stood up, knowing he wouldn't win this battle. Still, he wasn't about to go without trying one more time. "We're going to need to talk eventually."

She looked up at him, her gaze cold and the smile long gone. "No, we're not. Goodnight."

There was nothing else for him to do but leave. As he piloted the Raptor back to Galactica, he considered how far he had come for nothing.

No, not quite nothing. Now he knew that words alone were not going to fix this.

*

Words alone were not going to fix this…but Laura hoped that they would help.

"Back on Caprica," she began, "on the last day before the attacks, I had a doctor's appointment. You already know what it was about…"

She paused, to see if he was going to say anything. He didn't, though he did shift slightly, his eyes now fixed on her. She continued.

"As you can probably understand, the news was devastating. A reminder of my own mortality that was too close for comfort. But at the time I was too busy to stop and face it. I had the de-commissioning ceremony to attend, among other things…but I did take a moment to stop at a nearby bookstore. Being so close to the hospital, there were many books related to illness and grieving there and so I picked one up at random and bought it. And promptly forgot about it, since later that day my whole world changed again."

She stopped again, reaching into the bag she had brought with her and pulling out a small book. "This book and Murder on Picon were the extent of my library for a long time. I did eventually pick it up again and, while some of it is full of the expected clichés and tired metaphors, there are parts of it that did help me then and have continued to do so."

She paused again. He still said nothing. She opened the book to the first marked page and began to read.

*

Laura opened the envelope attached to the brown package on her desk and began to read.

Laura,

I know what it is like to lose a son and I know that there is nothing I can say or do that will bring him back. All I can offer is my sympathies and this gift. I hope it will bring you some comfort.

Bill

P.S. Please tell Tory thank you for her help.

Frowning, she put the card down and opened the package. She unwrapped it carefully – in a civilization with few resources at hand, it was important to reuse what they could. A few moments later the contents were revealed and Laura found herself blinking back another sudden onrush of tears.

It was a photograph of her and Billy. She'd seen it many times before; it was one of her favourites. But she'd never seen it like this as it was now mounted in a small wooden frame, perfect for sitting on a shelf…or a desk. She immediately set it up on the desk corner, sitting down to see how it looked.

It was perfect. Now every day she could work under Billy's gaze, his happy smile keeping her company like it always had before. Just perfect. The tears finally began to roll down her cheeks but this time she let them. There was no one around to see her and she needed the release.

She would have to call Bill later and thank him. Or go there in person perhaps, finally putting this latest stand-off behind them. Logically, she knew it was unfair to blame him. Logically, she knew there was nothing else he could have done, that it was only chance and bad luck that had caused the situation to end like it had. But logic really hadn't had much of a role when it came to her reaction.

At least past experience had showed that he would understand that.

She would have to call him but not right now. Right now all she could do was stare at the picture, let the memories – both good and bad – begin to run through her head, and settle down into her chair for the long haul.

*

Bill settled into the couch for long haul, his eyes still watching Laura's face carefully.

"As virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say,
"Now his breath goes," and some say, "No."

He recognized the poem but didn't say so, not wanting to interrupt the soothing sound of Laura's voice.

"So let us melt, and make no noise,
No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move;
'Twere profanation of our joys
To tell the laity our love."

He let his eyelids close now, scenes playing out behind them in the darkness. So many memories of Kara, his daughter in all but name. After everything they'd been through, after everything she'd survived, it was impossible to think that she was gone. That she, from all reports, had allowed herself to die. 'See you on the other side,' that's what she'd told Lee. See you on the other side.

"Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to aery thinness beat."

He was glad Laura was here. He needed her right now, more than he ever had before. Even if there was nothing she could do to make the pain go away, she'd always made such burdens easier to carry. Without her…no, he wouldn't think of that. Couldn't think of that, not on top of everything else.

He took a long, steady breath. It had been a long day and he could feel it in every inch of his body. He was still listening to Laura as she read but the rest of his awareness was quickly fading.

"Such wilt thou be to me, who must,
Like th'other foot, obliquely run;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
And makes me end where I begun."

He smiled slightly at the poem's end. It was a remarkable piece of writing. And it did help, if only a little. He knew it would take time to deal with the rest.

"Bill?"

He opened his eyes, his vision blurry. "Yeah?"

Laura stood up, smiling at him. "I think I should go. But I'll leave the book for you," she said as she placed it on the table, beside the small shipwreck. "It's a gift."

He nodded. "Thank you."

She smiled once more before turning and heading towards the door. Bill's eyes closed again; moments later he heard the hatch close.

He sat there, the memory of her voice now the only sound in the room. It repeated inside his head several times, until finally he fell asleep.

*

[A/N: The poem is "A Valediction Forbidding Mourning" by John Donne. Also, I don't know exactly when the picture of Billy on Laura's desk appeared but I'm assuming and hoping that it wasn't until after he died, mainly because she doesn't seem like the type to have put it up before then, since she would see him every day anyway.]