Note: these characters are not mine. I just own them in my heart. Or maybe they own my heart. Whatever. They are essential to me, a true part of my soul. Writing about them is my personal way to honor them.
A shiver runs down his spine when he realizes she is no longer in the CIC. He looks around, suddenly distressed, hoping to spot her in a different corner, celebrating with someone else, receiving heartfelt expressions of gratitude from some of the men and women she has come to care for as her own children but Laura has simply vanished. He cannot imagine why she might have left in the middle of the party. A party she seemed to be enjoying as much as everyone else. She appeared to be doing well physically. Bill wonders if he has misread the signs. Maybe the harshness and the pressure of the last few days have taken their toll in her and the emotional turmoil of the last minutes has finally been too much for her to take.
His eyes meet Helo's. He transfers control of the CIC to him with a silent nod before sprinting towards the corridors, leaving the hubbub and the noise behind. He tries to figure out where she might have gone. He does not want to consider the possibility that she might have not disappeared on her own volition: anyone with doubtful intentions could easily have taken the President away in the middle of the general mess.
She only would have left the CIC if she had felt sick. This line of reasoning makes sickbay the first place to search. His heavy steps echo on the walls as he makes his way through the galleries. He finally reaches the entrance, sweeps the curtain aside with his hand, breaks into the hall, and scans the beds around him: she is in none of them. His body freezes in place while his mind works in full performance.
"May I help you, Admiral?"
He spins on his heels to find himself facing the grumpy face of Jack Cottle, as wrinkled as his voice. His greeting line is enough for Bill to understand he will not find Laura there: had she felt bad and come to sickbay, Cottle would not have had to ask. He knows better by now. He knows how deeply he cares for the President. From what the doctor has seen, it is only comparable to how she cares about him.
If a wave of relief has washed over him the moment he has been certain Laura is not in sickbay, he feels mad with worry when he finds out she is not in his or her quarters, either. He visits both, knocks first before entering hers, opens the hatch, looks around, checks in the rack, then in the head. He calls her name. Nothing. He only finds darkness, emptiness and silence.
One second after, like a flash of light crossing his mind, he figures out. She once confessed to him she hoped the moment would arrive when she could see Earth through the windows of the observation room. If she was not supposed to feel the surface of Earth under her feet, she hoped she would live enough to at least get a glimpse of it from the distance. That has to be it. She has sneaked out of the CIC without being noticed, craving some space and time for herself. While he hastily walks down the corridors again, Bill wonders if he will be welcome. However, wondering is pointless since he is determined to find her no matter what. He will manage not to disturb her much. He just needs to be sure she is there and she is fine. And then, only if she lets him, he will be glad to stay with her.
They owe this to themselves, after all.
He opens the hatch as carefully as he can but the metallic sound of the wheel tears up the air. And he finally sees her. Laura is sitting on the windowsill: her back leaning on the wall, her hands resting on her lap, her chin slightly up. Her profile is dark, unmistakable, and magnificent. Bill holds his breath. She must have heard the hatch opening. Since nobody has entered yet, since the visitor is still and quiet, watching, she might have guessed his identity without turning to face him.
"Laura."
She sighs. Her chest rises and falls. She refuses to look at him. Instead, she keeps staring through the window at the round form of the planet as if nothing else matters. From the spot where he is standing he cannot see her eyes. He tries to read her demeanor. He tries to figure out what is going on inside her. Slowly, he comes closer. He finally stands beside her.
"It's beautiful."
Her voice is a broken whisper. His brow furrows with worry.
"Laura, please. Look at me."
Since she does not move, he lifts his hand, reaches out and pulls her chin to him gently just like he did back then, that evening when she promoted him. That day seems so far away now, almost lost in the nebula of the past. She has had time to recover from the cancer and start dying of it all over again, not without saving humanity in- between. Bill had expected more resistance on her part but she simply turns her tear-stained face to him. Her look takes his breath away for a second. Her sadness is undeniable, her defeat absolute. She was smiling and crying tears of joy just a few minutes earlier, in the middle of the CIC. They had embraced each other in public, for the first time not caring too much about what the crew might think. Both that happiness and this grief seem so real. None of them is faked. All the rich, complex emotions that Laura is usually so capable of keeping at bay have emerged to the surface and are literally flooding her features. Bill feels overwhelmed.
"It's over, Bill."
She has this way to voice impossible things. He feels his heart break in a thousand pieces. She smiles at him through her tears.
"But I am happy. Really, I am."
Bill is unable to form any coherent word. Instead, he looks at her tenderly, and takes her head in his hands. His thumbs wipe her tears away from her cheeks. She lets him. She accepts him. She does not hide.
"We made it. Together.", she adds.
There she is. His Laura is this fragile woman and she is also the strongest human being he has ever met and she would not be herself at all if she did not make one more attempt at faith. He smiles.
"Yeah. It looks like we are a good team. And we will keep doing everything together. Even after one of us leaves."
She half chuckles, half snorts. She is not in the mood for pretense. A shadow descends over her features and she averts her eyes. She looks far away, much farther than Earth, and it is almost as if she is momentarily dwelling a world Bill cannot see. They have just allowed themselves to acknowledge their mutual feelings and come together at last, and part of her is slipping through his fingers, flying away already.
"Hmm. One of us.", she muses.
This is his way to help her pretend she is not going to die anytime soon. They both know what is going to happen. They both know she will arrive much earlier than him in this race towards death that life is. However, her heart swells with gratitude at his attempt to even the score. They stay silent for a moment. Then she lifts her eyes to him and says, voice shaking:
"I love you so much it hurts."
He startles a bit. Her eyes twinkle and the corners of her lips lift slightly: she knows she has surprised him saying it again. This makes twice in just a few days. Now that she has finally allowed herself to be human and surrender to what her heart is screaming, now that she is so desperately running out of time, she just cannot declare her love to Bill often enough. Again at a loss for words, he replies pulling her into a tight embrace. She laces her arms around his waist, rests her forehead against his chest. She is still sitting and he is standing by her side, right in the best spot in the whole universe: inside the circle of her arms, holding her in his. They stay silent, looking through the glass, their glances on Earth, not seeing it anymore, and not caring at all. He strokes her back. She holds on to him even tighter.
"You make leaving so hard and so frakkin' easy at the same time."
Bill hears her through the mist of his own troubled emotions. He just wishes he could make it even harder. He knows better than to say it aloud, though. He does not want her to believe he would rather see her squirm and suffer. He should be glad he is helping her be at peace with the idea of her own, impending death. He just wishes he could actually stop the whole thing. Deliver an order that the universe would have to obey. Once more, he would like to curse the Gods that seem determined to allow her pain and take her away from him but in this moment he is beyond that, too.
"How are you feeling?"
He pulls back a little and tilts his head to be able to see her face. She looks sad and tired, but peaceful.
"Exhausted, but pretty fine. It doesn't feel like I am dying tomorrow or anything."
Bill chuckles. She looks up at him with a questioning look.
"What?"
"If there is someone in the whole universe who can break prophecies and cheat fate and the Gods altogether, that's you, Laura Roslin."
She lets out a small giggle. Only Bill can still try to make her believe she will survive again. Only he can play this game. Only he can still have hope and almost convince her to share it. Bill's chest swells at the sound of her brief laughter. Then she falls into her thoughts again.
Gods or not, prophecy or not, she is going to die just the same.
She is going to die with this wonderful, caring, loving man by her side. Warming her, stroking her cheeks, holding her hand. There is no better way to die than loving and being loved. So truly, so completely, so meaningfully. Loving in a way she never thought possible, she never dared to imagine she would ever feel or receive.
There is no stronger reason to want to stay, either.
"I am sorry.", she whispers.
Bill looks down at her, shocked.
"What… why?"
"I am a proud woman, Bill. You should take advantage of my weakness and my wish to apologize instead of questioning it."
He smiles at her weak joke while the perfect answer just forms in his mind.
"I know you're proud. That's OK. I'm proud of you, too."
She opens her mouth but she cannot produce any coherent thought. Her eyes well up with tears all over again.
"I'll never stop crying if you keep saying those things."
"Laura, there's nothing I need to forgive you for."
"Still."
Determined, stubborn, amazing woman. He holds her chin up, leans over and kisses her. They can still count the kisses they have shared with the fingers of one hand. This time he lingers, he goes a bit deeper, holding her sad, beautiful face in his hands, seeing her closed eyes and her wet lashes through his half- closed eyelids, feeling the gentle movement of her lips softly responsive, the warmth of her mouth welcoming him, hearing the humming in the back of her throat. Then he pulls back slowly. She still waits a few more seconds before opening her eyes and allowing their green light caress his face once again. When she does, he is smiling. It feels like a blessing.
"OK. I'm listening."
She straightens her back and clears her throat and if it was not for her reddened eyes and the tracks of tears on her cheeks she would look almost presidential again.
"I told you once that being the president, you don't have to explain yourself to anyone. But soon I won't be the president anymore. I am certainly no longer just the president with you. Not that I regret it or that I care, anyway. Bill, what I mean is… I am sorry for all the times I made decisions that hurt you. For all the awful things I made you do."
He shakes his head on the negative.
"You did it because you had to. You did what was necessary, often against your own will. Always with the best of intentions, with the fairest, most legitimate, and unselfish purpose."
"I know, Bill. That's not the point. I might have been right or wrong but there is nothing we can measure it against and that's not the point, either. Not anymore. The point is… I would never hurt you. I know I have and I wish I hadn't."
She pauses and resumes her speech after an instant.
"This is almost the first time I can let my guard down for a while. Since we have just found Earth, it might very well be the last, too. Now that it is over, I need to be just who I am… say what I need to say."
He swallows the lump that has formed in his throat and nods silently. He does not speak. His eyes are wet, and their blue color seems to darken.
"I am sorry that I'm…"
She trails off. There are limits for her, too. There are things not even Laura Roslin can say aloud without breaking, without hesitating.
"This sickness is not your fault, Laura. I'd rather be with you no matter what. I would not trade this for anything."
"No, no. That's not…"
She does not mean the cancer. She does not mean leaving him alone, although the Gods know how badly she would like to stay with him, how painfully aware she is that her death is going to kill him. She pauses, searching for words, and then continues.
"I am sorry for making you wait. I am sorry it took me so long to let myself love you. To accept your love. I have loved you for such a long time and I knew it but I just… the occupation, the presidency, the cancer… I just could not afford it. Or so I thought. I didn't even think about it. I just… went on most of the time. But it was always there. Always there, Bill. You have to know that."
He smiles, takes her hands in his and kisses her palms.
"I know. There were times when you waited for me, too. Besides… the wait was so worth it. And I knew it, Laura. I knew it was worth it, because I knew you. I was already happy to be with you, in a way. Happy to have met you, to have you around. Blessed to have your friendship, your affection, your support, and your guidance. Happy to share my days with you. I felt privileged. Even if you had never loved me back I wouldn't have had it any other way."
She revels in the rich rumble of his voice and the depth of his feelings. She knows. Yes, she knows. How could she not, if she is feeling exactly the same? She feels almost blessed that the Colonies fell and she was forced into working with him. She has even enjoyed a remission of her cancer and two more years of life so far, all of it thanks to a treatment she would have never had within her reach in their old world.
She bites her lower lip and gives him a weak smile.
"I am the lucky one."
He arches an eyebrow and cocks his head and she knows he is questioning her last words. Or maybe not. Maybe they are both equally lucky to have each other, after all.
"I love you, Laura. I have never loved anyone the way I love you. More importantly, I never will."
"Me either...", she barely whispers.
After a pause, she adds:
"I'll be waiting for you."
She looks up and smiles at him openly just to see he is letting his first tears fall at last. He cannot stop them, he does not even try. She puts her hands on his cheeks and when the first sob shakes his whole, compact torso she finally gets up and holds him impossibly close. His arms around her waist, his head on her shoulder. She presses her eyelids together and makes herself strong for him.
She will comfort him for as long as she can. She will comfort Bill enough for him to still feel her warmth when she is long gone. While there is still a trace of life within her, she will keep comforting him; no force in the universe can stop her from helping this man. She will hold him together. All the way to the end.
His weeping gets gradually quieter until it finally subsides. Not letting go, they just turn around to look outside one more time. The planet casts a soft glow behind a veil of clouds, in contrast with the darkness of the universe that has been their only home for the last four years. They hold on to each other tightly. Laura is quiet. She does not have any more tears: it is as if she has passed them all over to Bill with her last words, all of them for him to spill. Once more, sharing the pain, sharing the burden.
Then she speaks again.
"It is beautiful."
Not my first fic but the first I wrote in English and the very first one I post. Reviews will be soooo useful!