The smell of antiseptic stung his nostrils as Bill stepped into Life Station, losing a wrestling match with his imagination as he threw off images of Laura writhing in pain in a bed in this very place.
She's fine. Cottle got tied up and she had to wait and now she's probably in an even better mood than the last time you saw her. She'll probably actually throw you out the airlock this time rather than just threaten it. She was strong enough to knock you on your ass, Old Man. She's fine.
His pace quickened as he made his way to the curtained area at the back of the space, the one that offered at least some semblance of privacy. Knowing the truth was better, he'd decided, than what his brain was stubbornly conjuring.
Except it wasn't. The Admiral strained his aging eyes to peek through the half drawn curtain and saw the president lying on the flimsy cot, motionless and eyes closed, with a plastic tube snaked under her nose. The fact that she was uncovered and still wearing her suit, her heels placed neatly on the floor at the end of the bed, did nothing to assuage the fear and guilt rising from his stomach to his chest.
What did you do to her, you asshole? You should have gone after her. She was too upset to be left alone. She would have hated it. Her fury would have been better than letting her collapse.
As Bill's wrestling bout with his imagination turned to an all-out death match he was determined to lose, the smell of cigarette smoke alerted him to Cottle's presence before the man's voice broke him out of his thoughts.
"She's fine, Admiral." Cottle chuckled at the looked on his old friend's weathered face. "Gods, man, you've got it bad." Cottle's observation wasn't entirely unkind. He admired and respected Laura Roslin and wouldn't mind at all if there was someone who could see past the title to care for the woman herself. The look on his friend's face suggested he could be that person.
Bill didn't hear the insinuation or chose to ignore it. "What happened, Jack?"
"I don't know. According to Billy, I should ask you. But there's nothing wrong with her; she's just asleep."
The doctor had tracked down the young aide when a very agitated President Roslin had presented herself for her check in, alone and suffering the symptoms of what seemed to be nothing more alarming than a good old fashioned temper tantrum. The boy reported that he'd left a very pissed off president with the Admiral hours prior and Jack had for a moment prepared himself to hear on the wireless that another one of their infamous fights had nuclear consequences.
It was Bill who was agitated now, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. "Why the oxygen? Is she drugged?"
The doctor had to suppress a laugh. "No, sir. Madame President is too strong now for me to dare putting her under without her consent. I put her on oxygen because she'd worked herself into quite a state and was breathing too fast for her own good. I mostly did it because I thought it might teach her to follow my instructions. But then she just fell asleep. Didn't stir the whole time I took blood and felt her up." At the Admiral's warning look, Cottle added with humor, "in the most medically professional way of course."
Bill found nothing funny about the president of the Twelve Colonies knocked unconscious by something he had done. While he wasn't quite clear on the specifics of why she was so thoroughly enraged, he knew it was his fault all the same.
"Cut the crap, Jack. Will she wake up?"
Cottle sensed the amusing conversation during which he got to rib his commanding officer about his increasingly obvious desire for the president was about to go south.
"Of course she'll wake up. You can wake her yourself if you need her. I was just going to let her rest until she woke on her own since I'm really not looking forward to what she'll do to me for keeping her off Colonial One for so long. By all means, you do the honors." Cottle jerked a finger in the direction of the president and made a move to shuffle off. He was stopped by the resigned hurt in Bill's voice.
"No. I'm the last person she wants to see right now. I wouldn't want to upset her again."
Cottle turned to face the Admiral, curiosity about what the hell had happened between the two leaders overriding any fear of the things both of them could do to him if in the right mood.
"I thought you'd learned your lesson on Kobol, Bill. What exactly did you do to piss her off this time?" Cottle watched the Admiral's eyes go dark before he responded.
"I authorized Baltar to save her life. And, evidently, she'll never forgive me." Bill added rendering her senseless to the list of sins that he'd committed against Laura Roslin that was rapidly growing in his mind as he shot another glance at her sleeping just yards away.
Doctor Cottle took a moment to puzzle over his friend's words. He knew that President Roslin was unsettled by the means of her cure but, hell, so was he. But her unlikely rise to power and the subsequent ease with which she wielded it had shown them all that she didn't falter when faced with unexpected burdens. If he knew Laura Roslin, which he did as only a patient's doctor could, she was readying herself for the next battle. She was not one to dwell on the past. She couldn't afford to.
"Bill, what else happened?" Cottle asked, his voice more gentle than most people ever heard it.
Adama scoffed. "Nothing. I mean I yelled at those insects we call reporters when they were stressing her out and the next thing I knew she was dragging me back to my quarters and threatening to airlock me."
Cottle started to piece together the picture. The argument about the president staying on Galactica. The fight over using the wheelchair. Some strange incident that reportedly took place the hallway, recounted by a pilot who'd been headed to Life Station when he saw it, in which the president had to order the Admiral to drop his death grip on his adopted daughter.
"Bill, did you talk to her before her press conference? About what she was going to say?"
"No. She was in no condition to be holding that damn press conference in the first place." Bill sounded slightly confused about the direction of this conversation but Cottle continued, sure he had a point and determined to follow it.
"Have you talked to her about anything since she…" He trailed off. He was too much of a scientist to call whatever had spared Laura Roslin a miracle and too much her vigilant doctor to call it a cure. Yet. "Have you talked to her since her life was spared about anything other than how much she should be resting and when she should eat?"
Bill considered the question, still not understanding why any of this mattered. "No. She was too weak to be dealing with fleet business. My only concern was making sure she didn't overdo it."
Cottle sighed and looked over at the curtained area, his gaze not on the president but the young man hunched over a pile of files sitting a few feet from the bed. He'd learned in the few dark, presumed last days the president endured that the boy could be more formidable than either the Admiral or the president if her comfort was at stake.
"Alright, Bill. My office before we wake her and that kid of hers kills us both." He'd turned his white coat clad back to the Admiral without waiting for a response, a smile playing at his lips.
Bill followed and was grateful for the glass of Galactica's finest the doctor offered before ordering him into a chair and settling into his own, lighting a cigarette to brace himself for the coming conversation.
Bill looked at his chief medical officer with a hint of amusement and concern. The last time the two men had shared a drink the doctor had scolded him for exhausting the president by helping her visit the prisoner in the brig. But long before that they'd shared many and Bill had always left with a few things about his own character to chew on. He had a sneaking suspicion the latter was what the Major had in mind.
"Do you know what happened that day she collapsed, Bill?" Bill blinked. He knew full well what had happened when the president was rushed to Life Station for what everyone thought was the final time.
"The one that was broadcast on the wireless, Bill," Cottle clarified before continuing. "She accidentally overdosed on chamalla. It scared her. She would never admit it but it did. But she ordered me to give her a shot to get her on her feet and she did that damn press conference when she could barely stand. I told her that day she wouldn't be able to hide what she was going through forever. But she was determined to do it alone. Hell, she was determined to do everything alone."
He paused to allow Bill to process the nuance to a situation he'd long forgotten.
"I don't know what happened on Kobol but after you two made up in front of the fleet, she was different. I can't quite say how but she certainly wasn't alone anymore. She had a partner and, while I bet she never told you, she was grateful to you for supporting her while also trusting her to do her job."
The Admiral studied his hands, remembering the day she'd returned Dark Day and then proceeded to give him wise advice about trusting the Cylon Sharon. He was glad he'd given Laura some comfort but he wasn't sure where this was going.
"Are you circling in on a point here, Jack?" He shot his friend a look that was met with a roll of the eyes.
"Yeah, Bill. The point is that you've left her alone again."
Bill's eyes widened in surprise. "You should talk to Saul about that, Doc. He's the one who covered my shifts while I was sitting with her after she came back to us. I've been in your Life Station more this past week than the entire time I've had command."
Cottle rubbed out his cigarette in a bowl on his desk. "Yeah, you've been hovering over her constantly. That's not what I mean. She practically came back from the dead because of some crazy miracle cure you authorized that involved a Cylon fetus she'd told you to abort. She had to come to terms with that while also figuring out how to tell the fleet that their Dying Leader was alive and healthy as a horse. She needed her partner to talk it out with her and you refused to help. You were trying to do my job instead."
An embarrassed look crossed Bill's face as he digested what he heard. He'd never thought the president couldn't do her job but her fury earlier in the day made a lot more sense now that he realized the story his behavior likely told to Laura.
Jack's voice surprised him out of his thoughts.
"Do you love her, Bill?" The Admiral looked back at him in surprise. He'd asked himself the same question earlier but he'd never expected to hear it out loud.
"I've seen the way you look at her. You could love her if you don't already," Cottle said as he filled the silence with an answer to his own question.
Bill nodded, unsure enough of what his voice might betray to try to use it.
Cottle nodded back, a small smile on his lips. "Then fix it. She's got a doctor, a damn good one if I do say so myself, and a kid who will do anything in the worlds to make sure she doesn't overdo it. She needs her partner back. Don't deprive her of that just because you're scared you might lose her again. She can handle it, we both know that, but why should she have to? For that matter, why should you have to either?"
Doc had a point, Bill knew. He'd run the same line of thought through his head at least a dozen times since that night he'd kissed her on Colonial One. Yes, she was the president and he was the Admiral and that would undoubtedly be a problem. But another problem with those two titles is that neither of them could truly turn to anyone else. Before, it had been a moot point. Over the last week, he'd let himself imagine a dozen ways he might broach the subject of the kiss with Laura, at some point, when she was stronger. Now, with her furious at him and, he realized, with good reason, it might be too late.
He noticed Cottle watching him. "Well, Jack, I think I frakked that one up good. You should have heard her today. She really doesn't want anything to do with me anymore," Bill said, voice laced with regret.
"Since when do you give up that easily? Talk to her. You know she's always raring for a fight after a press conference and you were just dumb enough to give her a punching bag."
Bill considered his CMO's words. Laura was always...keyed up...after press conferences and, earlier antics aside, she was rarely out of control without reason. Still, he knew he couldn't force her to talk to him without stoking her fury further.
"Maybe," Bill said noncommittally, "but it will have to wait until I have a real reason to talk with her. She'll see through any other attempt and knock me on my ass."
Again.
Jack Cottle's eyes gleamed mischievously as he stood up abruptly. "I've got an idea to help you, Bill, though Gods know why I have to play your wingman at this age." He moved from behind the desk to settle his hand on his friend's shoulder.
"Come on, Admiral. Just play along. Let's go wake your sleeping beauty." Without waiting for a retort, he shuffled to the door and opened it for the Admiral. He grabbed a yellow gown from the shelf just outside the office and walked toward the curtain shielding the president of the Twelve Colonies. Bill followed, trying to hide his confusion.
Could this day get any longer?
