"I'm putting our family back together." He isn't really talking about the missing one-third of the fleet. He isn't just talking about his son, either, or even Starbuck. The thought hovers on the edge of his consciousness; he's not letting it through. Only a flicker of auburn zips past his mental roadblocks, but in its wake come flashes of her face, sometimes steely, always guarded… and occasionally warm, he's discovered, as almost by accident she has spent many of her less regimented hours with him. So much time spent shaping this new world of theirs; passing ideas, hopes and even bad jokes back and forth; giving every last breath, every last drop of blood necessary to keep these last vestiges of humanity together, as one.

Two of Boomer's bullets in his chest changed everything. His mortality – a weakness in this new world if ever there was one – opened a door for Roslin, and she stepped through, holding that damned prophecy over her head like a beacon of truth and salvation. And by the gods, if he hasn't thought a hundred times before that if anything ever shone brighter than Laura Roslin herself, it could eclipse a sun. Not to mention the previous offer of an organized, protected, space-bound existence.

At least, that was it until they found something better. Together.

The possibility bubbles and forms before he can tamp it down. He is angry, hurt, betrayed – but might all of these things just be kneeling at the feet of his wounded pride? Adama is nauseated at the thought that perhaps he has acted like an injured dog whose master keeps on walking, leaving it behind. Never looking back.

As he stands in front of the mirror now, waiting only for Saul Tigh's voice announcing their arrival at Kobol, he can see the truth staring back at him. He was the one who walked away. Roslin never dissolved their little quorum of two; she only ever asked for his help, his advice, his arm to lean on when her monumental strength occasionally failed her. As he has.

He feels sick all over again.

The relative ease with which he and Roslin formed their alliance (discounting a few initial hiccups) probably fueled his misgivings, he suspects. He has never had a relationship of any kind that has been anything less than frakking difficult. Parents, lovers, wife, children, friends… he has spent more time fighting with them like cats and dogs, or freezing them out, than he ever has in loving them. Laura Roslin has always floated above his categories, never quite falling into place. He only knows that going to Kobol and bringing her back feels like reattaching a missing limb. And it will probably be just as painful.