"Crows mean death, you know," Kara Thrace says. She's leaning against the wall, arms crossed, more comfortable than anyone should be while standing across the room from a dying woman.
"They do?" Laura asks blankly. She's not sure if this is something she hasn't heard before or something she should know but can't get at now that the drugs have walled off parts of her mind (or maybe the cancer; it's hard to tell the difference anymore).
"No, you've got it wrong." Billy is sitting by the foot of her bed and he looks typically worried about her, except that suddenly his worry is focused on Kara's mistake instead, as though the symbolic meaning of crows is a crucial issue that could destroy the fleet if not handled properly. "That's an Earth thing. You're mixing up Earth and Kobol."
"Earth came from Kobol, remember, just like we did," Lee Adama puts in, which is confusing because she could have sworn he wasn't in the room a moment ago. He pauses briefly to nod to Laura before adding. "Crows didn't come until later, though."
"From Kobol?" The words string together into sentences, but the final product doesn't quite make sense to her. She wonders if her ears are wrong, or her brain, or if it's that everyone else is wrong and she finally understands.
"Don't pretend to know about Earth," Kara snaps back at her friend, furious with no apparent cause. No one seems to notice Laura's question, and she wonders if maybe she only imagined asking it. "You don't know anything."
"None of you do," says a tall, blonde woman Laura thinks she would know if only she knew anything at all. "Except maybe you, Madam President," she amends, smiling at Laura. The smile makes her shiver without knowing why, and she feels guilty for her rudeness.
"She's not the president anymore." Tom Zarek is smirking in the corner, and she knows he shouldn't be there, even if he really is. "She's not anything now."
"I'm not dead yet," she reminds him, but he only smiles condescendingly like she's a particularly stupid five-year old with an attitude problem.
"That's what they all say," he tells her, and pats her head.
"Hey!" two voices snap in unison, and Lee and Bill Adama are both pointing guns at him. Laura is the only one who jumps.
"I don't know why you care," Zarek says, still smirking, and then he disappears, which Laura's sure is impossible, even with only the bits of brain she can reach.
"What's going on?" she asks, and when she hears her voice, she does sound five. She clears her throat, or tries to, but it's stuck full of something that she somehow knows will never come out.
"It's the crows." Kara sounds annoyed, or impatient at least. She never did have patience, that Lieutenant Thrace. "How many times do I have to tell you?"
"It's not her fault, Kara," Lee says gently. "Some people just don't have the chops."
"You'd know, wouldn't you?" Bill sticks his tongue out at his son, then laughs, a chuckle that turns into an evil villain sort of cackle.
Laura tries to ask what's gotten into him to make him half a child and half a monster, but now her voice has left her completely. She thinks it's gotten caught in her ears because she can't quite hear properly either. She looks around for a sympathetic face, but Kara, Lee and Bill are all laughing hysterically now, and the strange woman is gone, but Zarek is back in his corner, smirking for all he's worth.
She finally finds Billy, still at the foot of her bed, and he looks sad, but he's got a large crow on each shoulder. "Don't worry," he says soothingly. "They just want to peck your eyes out." He keeps talking, but the sound doesn't seem to reach her.
Billy's crows are walking up her legs and then her torso, and then they're standing and looking down at her face. "Don't worry," they croak in what sounds a little like Gaius Baltar's voice. "Cylons don't make crows." Then they lean toward her.
She wakes gasping, hands over her eyes. "Madam President?" Billy asks worriedly. The room is dark, and empty except for the two of hem, but he's right where he was in the dream. "Are you all right? Do you need anything?"
"I'm fine," she reassures him, her voice almost as croaky as the crows. She clears her throat, and this time it works. "Billy," she says slowly, contemplatively. "I want to thank you for everything. You've done far more for me than you had any obligation to."
"It's nothing," he mumbles, embarrassed.
"You should get some sleep," she tells him. "There's nothing for you to do now, and you look exhausted."
He looks skeptical, but he's obedient, most of the time, so he goes. "Good night, Madam President. Call me if you need anything."
"Good night, Billy. Sleep well." 'Don't worry,' she doesn't say. 'I won't need anything more.' She closes her eyes and falls asleep immediately, but this time she dreams only of home. When Billy comes to check on her the next morning, Laura Roslin is dead.