The Fleet allowed for humanitarian recall for medical emergencies, and Richard's contacts helped speed up Adama's return. He did it for Laura, despite the rage in his veins. Laura lay in a hospital, and Richard blamed Adama and his (now under arrest) ex-wife for her condition. In Richard's mind, she wouldn't be hospitalized if not for Adama.

Only a few hours after the incident, Bill was with the doctor standing outside Laura's room. It was one of the few times in his life he felt it hard to maintain his self-control. His pregnant wife was behind a door, and the doctor wasn't looking happy. He pulled his mental armor around himself as he squared off with the physician.

"My wife, how is she?" he demanded.

"She suffered some bruised ribs, bruising to the spine, and a concussion from the fall," the doctor said. Bill's stomach clenched, and the doctor continued. "She's regained consciousness and is in labor, sir. She's been asking for you," he explained, and Bill's eyes widened. He glanced at the door, wanting to be at her side. The doctor motioned for him to enter, and Bill surged forward. He paused with a hand on the door handle.

"Will she be alright?" Bill asked and held his breath.

"She should recover fully. Yes. But she is in pain, and labor is proving to be difficult. Just be there for her," the doctor assured him kindly. Bill took a deep breath and entered the room. The sight of her in the hospital bed caused his throat to constrict. Monitors beeped around her. Her head was thrown back on the pillows, and her chest heaved as she gasped for air. He was immediately at her side, reaching for one of her hands. She turned her head and smiled when she felt him.

"Bill!" her hoarse voice exclaimed. She clutched his hand, and her eyes lit up at his presence.

"I'm here, Laura," he said, pressing a kiss to her hand. He stared at her transfixed; a thin sheen of sweat covered her skin, and her hair was a tangled mess. She moaned in pain at a contraction.

"I'm glad you're here," she groaned, taking a shaky breath. Bill reached over and brushed her sweat matted hair out of her face. She tried to smile but gritted her teeth at the pain of another contraction instead. Her grip instinctively tightened on the hand she was holding. Her pains were so close together that it felt almost constant to her, and she was gasping and moaning at the feeling. She was not going to scream. Presidents, even if they were no longer presidents, did not scream in pain.

"Keep breathing," he soothed in a calm gravelly voice, wondering what he could do. He listened to her whimpered as another wave of contractions hit. He felt useless as he watched Laura brace herself against the pain again before collapsing on the pillow.

"It's been kind of crazy here recently," she whispered. "I'm worried about the boys."

"I'll take care of it. Don't worry about that now," he assured her. He felt horrible about everything she'd been through. Adar's words when he'd arrived at the hospital thundered in his mind. Why couldn't you just leave her alone?

"I think this is when I make a cliched joke about you never touching me again," Laura teased, and Bill chuckled at the spark of fiesty Roslin.

"You're almost ready," the Doctor reported, checking her over. He'd arrived just in time.

"Bill, I'm scared," Laura whispered. His eyes snapped down to his wife; she'd never admitted to being afraid so openly before. "What if we can't keep the baby safe?" she asked and groaned but suppressed the urge to scream against the pain. She kept his hand him a vice-like grip instead. "Something could happen to you or me."

"Don't talk like that," Bill urged. He reached over and cupped her cheek in his free hand and wiped the tears away with his thumb. "I'll protect you both," he promised, bending over to kiss her forehead. Laura caught the steel glint in his eye as he pulled back, and she knew that her husband would fight to the death to keep her and their children safe. She wrapped the feeling of being loved and protected around her, letting it comfort her.

"Don't ever leave me," she whispered as her painful labor broke the usual barriers she kept around her emotions and fears.

"Never," he promised her. He repeated it over and over until she nodded and sniffed back her tears.

"Not too much longer," the doctor assured her. Bill kept his gaze on her face. She looked exhausted, and Bill's heart ached her.

"We're going to meet our baby," she whispered after another contraction ebbed away, grasping the happy thought to soothe her frayed nerves.

"What will we name them?" he asked and felt the sting of tears. This was real.

"Liam. William Joseph Adama. After his father. The best man I've ever known," she decided, and her voice hitched with emotion.

"Ok," he agreed. How could he deny her?

"Evelyn…Evelyn Judith Adama for a girl," she gasped out. The names of their mothers.

"Time to push," the doctor ordered. Laura groaned but nodded and looked over at her husband. Their gazes locked, and she saw the complete faith he had in her.

"I love you," she whispered.

"Me too. So frakkin' much," he croaked out. He pressed another kiss to her hand.

Laura moaned at the pain that erupted in her body as she pushed. She felt her bruised ribs and spine protesting the further strain her body was enduring. She pushed again and again. To Laura, it felt like an eternity had passed. Finally, she collapsed against the pillows. Tears flowed down her face, mixing with sweat. Bill gently wiped it all away with a cool damp washcloth.

"I'm so tired," she rasped. Her voice was raw and strained.

"You can do this, Laura. You're the strongest woman I know," he encouraged, and she heard the honesty in his voice. She summoned what little strength and energy she had left for a final push. A scream was finally torn from her throat. It was enough.

The cries of a newborn child filled the room, and Laura collapsed on the pillows, spent. She craned her neck toward the sound of her child. The nurses cleaned the baby while Bill stayed with Laura, holding his exhausted wife while the doctor continued his work. A nurse carried the little bundle over, and Laura's whole world shrank to the tiny infant being placed in her arms.

"It's a boy," the nurse said. Bill took in the sight of Laura holding the newborn.

"Our son," he marveled, reaching out to wrap an arm around his family.

"Liam," she whispered reverently as she traced his features with a finger. She smiled down at him, before looking over at Bill who had the happiest grin on his face she'd ever seen. She leaned over and kissed him before resting against him while cradling her baby close. She was drained but elated all at once; she and Bill had a son.

...

She was dreaming. A vision. The same one. She stood on Colonial One watching Bill leave. As he left, Tory handed her a letter. As soon as the letter touched her hand the clanking started, deep in the bowels of Colonial One. It sounded mechanical. The metal clanged around her, and her mind screamed at her to hide. She needed to find something first. Frantic, she looked everywhere. Her throat was hoarse from yelling, but she couldn't hear what she was saying. She couldn't leave without finding it. The clanging got louder. Centurions surrounded her, and she was pressed against the wall. She screamed, and it faded to black.

"Have you read the Pythian Prophesy lately?" Elosha asked and her voice echoed around them.

"No, and I'll never read it again," Laura vowed vehemently.

"Everyone learns something new each time they read the Sacred Scrolls."

"Too bad. I'm done with destiny and prophesy," Laura said flatly; her life was not a game for Gods to play with anymore. She wanted nothing to do with Pythia or the Scrolls. She would not be the dying leader.

"You will always be their Prophet and their leader."

"This time I want to live."

...

She'd been dreaming. Her eyes fluttered open, squinting against the afternoon sunlight pouring into the room. The cradle in her bedroom, where she'd laid Liam down to sleep, instinctively drew her attention. It was empty. She sat up, groaning at the aches and pains her body issued in protest at the sudden movement. She relaxed at the sight of Bill coming over with their son nestled in his arms. Her husband wasn't a tall man, but he was broad shouldered and well-muscled; his frame dwarfed little Liam who looked impossibly tiny while sleeping in his father's arms.

"You get some rest?" he asked. Laura nodded but couldn't draw her eyes away from her baby. Bill chuckled and carefully handed the infant over.

"What?" she asked, snuggling Liam to her.

"You had the I-need-my-baby-back-now stare, and I know better than to argue with you."

"You know better than to argue?" she teased.

"For today," he amended with a grin, and she giggled. She enjoyed the banter they easily fell into. They could have incredibly deep and profound conversations, but she also loved their playful back and forth moments. Once a fun and even playful woman, that side of her had come alive again, and it seemed to delight her husband who had his own relaxed side he was rediscovering.

When Laura was given the all-clear to leave the doctor ordered her to take it easy because of the injured spine and ribs. Bill wouldn't let her lift anything but Liam, but he was smart enough to let her pick up her son. In their former lives, Bill could be described as protective, but it was nothing compared to how he was now. He hovered constantly. He wouldn't stop asking what he could get her, or if she was OK. She stayed patient, knowing this was what he needed.

"My Gods, Bill, can you believe it? Our son. After everything," she shuddered and couldn't continue past the emotion welling in her throat. Bill wrapped an arm around her. After everything, he still felt awe and wonder at seeing his very alive wife and their new son.

"You called me Admiral Atheist once, but I need you to know: this is my piece of the arrow. This life is my miracle," he admitted, knowing she'd been his miracle for a long time.

"We've changed so much," she reflected with wonder. It took a lot for Bill to be so open with her, and his admission stunned her. For her part, the ice water Saul Tigh had once suggested ran in her veins had now thawed. They sat together in quiet reflection until Laura noticed Liam waking up and his little mouth moving. On instinct, she unbuttoned her shirt and brought him to her breast.

Laura settled back against the headboard of the bed, doing her best not to jostle Liam. Bill was about to try to help her, but she shot him a scathing look. She did her best to tolerate his neurosis because of the lingering trauma he harbored at her death, but she was alive, healthy, and fully capable of sitting up by herself. She would always be independent. Bill threw his hands up in surrender.

"How are the boys?" Laura asked, changing the subject. Bill sighed and felt his jaw tense. It had been a crazy storm of events. Because of what happened to Laura, an official report had been filed in case she wanted to press charges against Carolanne for assault. Child Protective Services had also been notified when evidence of parental negligence was uncovered. Bill had been dragged into meetings with officers and service workers. Full custody of the boys had been temporarily shifted to him while his ex-wife was investigated.

"They're feeling better," he assured her. "They're actually on their best behavior in the hopes they can get better and say hi to their brother."

"How are you doing?" she asked, watching him rub a weary hand across his face.

"I forgot how intense it all is," he admitted.

"You've gotten less sleep than I have. Between traveling back and taking care of all of us..." Bill heard the concern in her voice.

"Laura, I'm fine. Don't worry about anything but you and Liam right now. Please," he urged. The urge to protest welled up in her, but she batted it down. Instead, she nodded. He'd been through so much that she wouldn't begrudge his instinct to protect and take care of them.

"Yes, sir," she teased with a raised eyebrow. "But, you'd better not be like this your whole paternity leave," she warned. Despite his job with the Fleet, he was able to come home more than she'd first assumed would be the case. It was still only for short breaks of time. His paternity leave on the other hand would give them the chance to live together for an extended period as a normal couple. As a family. The idea of that sent a pleasant thrill through her body.

"I promise to read to you if, or when, you get annoyed with me," he assured with a grin.

"No gruesome mysteries until he's older," she laughed, handing him the baby to burp. "Is this really how we are going to be now? When we aren't trying to avoid the apocalypse, we're going to be sickeningly sweet in our domesticity?" she asked with a twinkle in her eye and no small amount of sass.

"Maybe," he grinned.

For the next three months, they reveled in being a husband and wife. They'd laughed hysterically when tax time came around, joking at something so normal feeling so bizarre to them. Laura had laid down the law with his drinking habits (although it hadn't been a problem in this timeline yet). Bill had proved to be a surprisingly good handyman around the house, although seeing the commanding officer of humanity's last Battlestar fixing the kitchen sink had been jarring to Laura. Obstacles abounded, but they built a life, embracing even the little things like fixing sinks, taxes, and rocking babies to sleep. Their marriage had been forged in the fire of an apocalypse and living back on the colonies was different, but they faced every challenge with the knowledge of how much worse life could be.

Their life had its rough moments. Maybe if it had just been Liam they were adjusting to it might have been easier. Little things kept throwing a wrench in their lives. Carolanne missed her court date, so Child Protective Services assigned full parental custody of Zak and Lee to them. Three kids were suddenly under one roof. Liam wouldn't sleep through the night. Bill and Laura were reminded of the time the Cylons kept finding them every 33 minutes and they were exhausted beyond belief. In their spare time they'd begun compiling the report they'd one day give to Richard Adar after he was sworn into office. They continued to adjust and adapt until the day came and Bill's leave was up.

...

John Cavil, Cylon Model One, was irritated and not hiding it. His brothers and sisters had demanded that he report directly to Cylon Command Center. He just arrived back from the Colonies, but instead of rushing to them, Cavil meandered through the metal corridors of the Cylon Colony Ship as if taking a stroll through the woods. He was lost in thought. It would have been oh so easy to snap Roslin's neck. He hadn't. His pragmatic side had won over his sadistic side; he didn't need his face to become infamous for killing a pregnant member of the government.

When he'd determined that he was fashionably late enough, he appeared in the doorway to the Command Center. He stayed in the shadows, which was easy enough. Cylon ships were not designed with optimal lighting. He wondered which member of the Final Five had influenced the Cylon preference toward darkness and the color red. Tory, he thought. His mother was too irritatingly…bubbly…to appreciate the dark. She'd have painted the Centurions pink if left to her own devices.

He gazed at his brothers and sisters, here and now gloriously untouched by their time among humans…yet. No betrayals. No rebellions. Red lights surrounded the assembled models, pulsing in a steady rhythm. He listened to them talk and almost groaned out loud at their naivete, at their belief that nothing could fall outside their calculations. His damn mother had allowed so many flaws to exist within their programming- all in the name of personality. Personality prevented perfection.

"They murder one another," Simon reported as they discussed the humans.

"Rob."

"Rape," D'Anna hissed and Cavil remembered hearing about one of her models having an unfortunate accident in an ally.

"Their sins are too many to count," Leoben stated and Cavil sneered at him from the doorway.

"Their children are raised in their image and doomed to commit the same sins as their parents."

"So, we are agreed?"

"The human race must be eliminated."

"So that our own children may live in peace free from sin."

"It's too risky to slip past the armistice line right now, the patrols have increased."

"Looking for a reason to attack," his own model spat out. He felt a surge of pride toward his model at recognizing the human's depraved desire for war.

"We must not engage them until we are ready"

"Brother," Six said, turning to look at him.

"Your behavior has been erratic," D'Anna pushed. That's funny coming from you, Cavil thought with a hint of frown.

"I have my reasons," Cavil stated, shrugging his shoulders: a nonchalant gesture to show how very little he cared about their opinion.

"There was no reason to have me follow the woman. She is insignificant," Doral remarked.

"One day she'll be President of the Colonies," he promised.

"You still believe you've seen the future," Leoben sat up straighter and met Cavil's gaze.

"More than just the glimpses you think you see," Cavil sneered.

"How?" Six asked.

"I found an artifact, which, unfortunately, I no longer have," Future Cavil reported. He thought of the little orb he'd used, but after using it to reset the timeline the artifact was lost.

"So, you have no proof," D'Anna reclined back in her chair with a raised eyebrow. Cavil resisted the urge to grind his jaw in irritation.

"My word should be proof enough," Cavil spat. The Cylons on the council exchanged glances. "Guess not. What if I bring back some proof? Hmmm? Some show and tell for the class?"