Title: Colder

Author: Kadi

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Not Mine. I don't own them. I didn't create them. Just borrowing them for a bit.

A/N: I wrote this years ago, prior to Epiphanies. I'm posting it now, after a recent BSG binge which has left me aching for more and trying to remind myself that she was always the Dying Leader.

Her hand was getting colder now. He couldn't say how long he'd been holding it. Just sitting there. Watching her. Waiting. The end was coming, and there wasn't a fraking thing anyone could do about it now. It was too late. For her. For him. For them.

He only wished that she had come to him with this sooner. So they might have had more time together. So many missed chances. So much time lost. Time they couldn't get back now. It was too late. Too late to say the things he longed to. But somehow, he had a feeling that she knew.

When had it happened? When had he stopped thinking of her as just the President and started seeing her as a woman? He couldn't say. Couldn't pinpoint the exact moment. But he had. Gods above he had. Then he had started to care.

Closing his eyes, he ran his thumb across the top of her hand. She was in pain. Even with all the medication, he could see it in her face. Even as close as the end was now, the pain was still there. Why, he wondered, why couldn't she just go in peace. Why couldn't the pain be at an end. Why couldn't she simply slip away, without the pain, without the fear. Just have it all at an end. Finally.

At least he was here with her now. At least they had not denied him that. At least in her final moments, she would be allowed to be simply a woman, rather than a president. The others had long since gone. Leaving them alone. Allowing them this time together. He bowed his head as he realized just how little time alone they'd had together. Just a few evenings, dinners, dancing and more. Then it had all gone to hell. Gods. Why couldn't he have just believed in her? Why couldn't he have just put the rank behind him for a moment and listened to what she was saying. Why did he have to be so stubborn? Why did he have to push her away? When they had so very little time left… Of course, he hadn't known about it then.

Would things have been different if he had? Maybe. He couldn't say for sure. It was another of those questions that would remain unanswered. That would haunt him the rest of his days.

How long ago had it been since they'd been right here, but their positions reversed? How long ago since it had been his hand that she had been holding? Willing him to fight, to live. If only living were possible for her now. If only it weren't too late. If only there was a cure. If only he had more time with her. If only, if only, if only…

Too many fraking ifs. He was a man of action. This was driving him insane. But there was nothing to do now but wait. Wait for her to leave him.

His free hand stroked her hair as he leaned forward, lips soft as they moved against her ear. Telling her that it was okay. That she could go. That she could find her peace, that he would be alright without her. It was a lie. One they both knew. Nothing would be alright again. But he couldn't stand this. Couldn't stand the pain etched across her face. Couldn't stand the rasping of her breath as she struggled just to breathe.

Laura… Damn you, he thought. Damn you for making me see you. Care about you. Love you. Damn you to Kobol and back for all of it. Don't leave me…

He closed his eyes. His thumb stroked the top of her hand again. Comforting. Ever comforting. He would bear this pain for her if he could. Trade places with her in an instant.

"It's all right Laura," his warm breath caressed her ear again. "I'll take care of them." Bill's fingers stroked her face, soft and gentle against her cheek. His hand tightened around hers. Her breathing was becoming more difficult now. Rattling in her chest. Making him cringe with every hard won breath. The end was closer.

In his mind's eye he could see her smile. The warmth in her eyes, the slight impishness that could cross her face at a moment's notice. How he wished he could see that smile again. That she would just open her eyes and look at him, smile, and tell him in that soft voice he loved so much, that everything would be okay. That she would be okay. That she wouldn't leave him. But she was long past opening her eyes now. Had been for some time. He would never look on those storm-swept sea colored depths again. The only sight of them that remained was in his memory. Just as with her smile.

She hadn't smiled nearly enough. There hadn't been reason enough for it. Much of that had been his fault. He wished he could have given her that at least. Made the end happier for her somehow. As happy as anyone could be in these times, at least.

That was another regret he would carry with him the rest of his days. So many regrets. So little time. Why hadn't there been more? Why had the gods been so cruel? Why couldn't she stay?

Her breath rattled again. Then there was nothing. His heart stopped as he waited, waited for her to take another. The keen, sharp ache filled him as the moments stretched out in silence. The silence was even more pain inducing than the harsh, rattling breaths had been. It wrapped around his heart and squeezed, more harmful than any bullets fired from Boomer's gun.

It was over. She was gone. The end had finally come. He buried his face against her neck, breathing in her scent, trying to imprint it across his memory. As with so many other things. He wasn't ready to let go yet. She was gone, but he remained. He just sat there, allowing the grief to wash over him.

It was too late now. For her. For him. For them. He couldn't say how long he'd been sitting there. But at last the wait was at an end. And her hand was getting colder now.

~Fin