The coordinates from the note lead them to a deserted sector of space where only a loan Tauron vessel lingered amid the stars. The Valkyrie's hails were answered by a surprised sounding Cavil, who tried to wave off the attention of the Valkyrie, refusing to allow boarding parties. Once they knew who it was, Saul Tigh became an agent of chaos and an expert at causing disorder and disruption. A hurricane. The crew had seen him embody these traits before when their XO's irritation turned on them. This Tigh, they knew, was something else entirely.

"Keep them distracted," Commander Adama had ordered before he left to join the marine strike team. Colonel Tigh had snapped off a salute and quickly formed a plan. He ordered ship to ship communication and began making diplomatic efforts to communicate with the Tauron vessel. Now, Tigh was no diplomat, and he was certainly not a born negotiator. However, his 'attempts' were an effective diversion; especially, when he resorted to threats. If the vessel, and whatever Cylons were on it, were worried about what the deranged Colonel might do to them, they weren't worrying about a strike team already underway.

Meanwhile, one of the Valkyrie's raptors floated in space over toward the enemy ship. They'd cut almost all power to the raptor a split second before it cleared the hangar bay of the large warship. As a result, DRADIS wouldn't pick them up. The raptor drifted forward, using only their lingering inertia. That combined with the smallest bursts from their engines allowed them to maneuver alongside the Tauron vessel. Starbuck sat at the controls of the ship, her brows knit in concentration, as she employed all her skill to use as little fuel and power as possible to keep them from being detected. The rest of the armed passengers sat in absolute awe. The raptor connected with the other vessel and established a hard seal on the hull.

Carefully and quietly, marines began cutting through the metal. Adama wanted the element of surprise on his side. His mouth was pressed in a hard line as he watched his men work. His throat was dry in anticipation. He watched a marine weld through the bulkhead with narrowed eyes. Seconds? Hours? Minutes? Moments stretched into eternity, and an eternity seemed like a second. Finally, they breached the hull.

The first marine disappeared through the opening.

"Clear," his crisp voice reported back to the team. Soldiers poured through the opening they'd created. The Tauron vessel was dark. Lights flickered overhead. Metal bulkheads rusted. The floor was grimy. Stale air. Cold. It was not a well-maintained ship. No wonder it was having engine problems according to scans. Adama wondered if a friend had helped with that. The unit remained alert. It was a ship one might find in a salvage yard. The Cylons had probably taken it from the junkyards in order to have a more covert means of moving about the Colonies.

"Smugglers love these old ships. Dark. Plenty of places to hide," one of the marines whispered as they took position. "Keep your eyes open."

"Move out," Adama commanded.

Cottle stayed beside his CO, the two older men in the middle of the strike squad. The unit moved together like a well-oiled machine. They checked high. Checked low. Nothing. There was no sign of enemy resistance. The men and women kept their eyes and ears alert and ready. There was nothing in the shadows. No one to be heard. It didn't take long for them to stumble across the makeshift holding cell.

"She's here!" a marine reported when his light pierced through the bars and swept over a woman lying on the floor. Her red hair caught the light; a dead giveaway as to who she was. Adama, Cottle, and Starbuck were instantly at the bars and looking for a way in. Bill held his breath; her form was still. Pale. Starbuck examined the room with her light.

"Looks clear."

"Laura…Laura can you hear me!" Adama called through the bars. His heart thundered in his chest, and his muscles were tense. His eyes swept over his fallen wife. Her chest rose and fell. Breathing. She was breathing. "Laura!"

"Bill?" Her voice was the faintest of whispers. He couldn't even be sure she'd said anything.

"Get it open!" he barked. His men were already working on welding through the lock. The flying sparks didn't alarm her at all; she made no move to recoil. Her body remained where it had been abandoned on the cold floor, sprawled out as if someone had simply tossed her there. Adama clenched his fists.

"Secure the ship," he ordered the other soldiers.

They moved off immediately. Adama couldn't look away from his wife, his eyes looked for any signs of injury. She appeared whole. Trapped for those moments on the other side of the bars, Adama felt helpless. If he could have torn the bars down himself, he would have. Anything to get to her. The second the lock broke, he and Cottle surged through the door.

"Laura!" Bill breathed her name like a prayer, reaching down and brushing the hair away from her face. His thumbs caressed her cheeks. With a gasp of relief, he saw her eyes flutter open. Their gazes connected, and he saw the recognition and relief flood into the green depths. Her instant trust and love took his breath away.

"It's alright, Laura," his voice was gentle and reassuring, despite his stress and anxiety. "Cottle and Starbuck are here too. We've got you now." With great effort, he tore his eyes away from her and looked to Cottle.

"She can be moved," Cottle's rough voice reported after his examination. "Some physical injuries, and she's been injected with something." Bill turned back to his love. Her lips twitched as if she wanted to speak, and her eyes fluttered with the difficulty she was having keeping them open. She moaned in pain.

"These," Starbuck said, holding up syringes from a nearby table where she had paused during her sweep of the room. She pocketed them, knowing Cottle would want to examine their contents.

One of the marines stepped into the doorway, reporting that the bridge had been sealed off and that the engines were overloading. Adama nodded. The damn Cylon bastards must have sealed themselves off once they knew marines had boarded the ship.

"Bill," he heard his name whispered in a dry cracked voice. "…found…me." Her eyes closed, and she slipped back into the land of unconsciousness. He pushed the anger to the side; they had what they were here for. He had his wife. There was no need to risk lives by staying longer than necessary. He slipped his arms under Laura and stood.

"Let's go," he ordered. With the engines overloading all of them were in danger. They retreated. The unit rushed back to the raptor, leaving whoever had barricaded themselves on the bridge to their fate. When the Tauron vessel exploded, the raptor was safely away.

…

Cavil woke in one of the dreaded baths of goo. He hated the resurrection process. He always felt the harsh burn of death, and in the moments of resurrection the pain seemed prolonged in his mind. Maybe that's one of the reasons why he was such a grumpy old man - the terrible memory of death's sting.

Destroying their vessel had avoided detection by Colonial forces. He'd known it was too soon for the Colonials to discover the presence of Cylons within their borders. He didn't know why the damn engines had given out though. He slammed a fist on the rim of the tub, causing the Cylons surrounding him to jump back startled. She hadn't talked. She hadn't broken. Nothing had been revealed to either the Cylon Centurions or the Eight model he'd taken along to finally witness the moment his story was corroborated. Nothing that could help prove his story and get the other models to listen. Laura Roslin resisted too well.

…

"How is she?" Saul asked. Once he'd secured the situation and they'd stood down to condition three, Saul had gone down to sickbay himself. When he saw Bill, he sympathized for his best friend who sat in a chair beside his wife's hospital bed, holding her hand. Bill kept unnaturally still during his vigil. He had eyes for no one else but the woman in front of him.

"Stable. Cottle's keeping her unconscious…they…" Bill took a deep breath, ordering himself to keep his substantial anger under control. "They drugged her. Chamalla and… military interrogation drugs," he growled.

"Frak," Saul muttered. Sweet Lords of Kobol, he thought, looking at Laura in horror. Military interrogation drugs - they weren't pretty.

"Cottle can't be sure what her psyche went through," Bill explained, watching his wife closely. Her eyes darted back and forth beneath her eyelids; her mind was active. Caressing the hand held in his, he waited for her to open her eyes. She's strong, he assured himself. She'll be ok.

The lingering content in the syringes Starbuck had grabbed allowed Cottle to identify the substances in them. The medic was furious when he'd realized what she'd been subjected to. He'd hurled the syringes across the room, and they'd smashed against a wall. He didn't feel any better.

Saul wasn't sure there was anything he could say or do to truly help Bill. They were both military - well trained soldiers. There was no way they could pretend not to know what the drugs might do to a person. The training Bill and Saul had undergone for interrogation techniques meant that both knew how these military concoctions potentially shattered a person's mind. Experience taught her lessons well, and they'd seen hardened criminals break under the drugs. There was no way to know Laura's state until she woke, but she'd recognized Bill. That was good news.

Laura breathed deeply, but her skin was ghostly pale, her auburn hair a tangled mess. The beeps of the heartrate monitor kept their steady rhythm. Everything was suspended in a tenuously stable state. Even Cottle's familiar cigarette smoke lingered in the air around them, and it filled Bill's lungs as he drew a ragged breath.

"She was in the cell next to mine on New Caprica. She ever tell you that?" Saul asked, taking up a position on the other side of the bed.

"We never spoke about New Caprica actually," Bill admitted.

"What?! All that she…" Saul shook his head and looked down at Laura. She had her secrets and kept them well. Sparing many of the details, Saul passed the time by telling Bill about times on New Caprica, and what they'd endured under Cylon occupation. Recounting some of the days they'd been in detention together, Saul shared moments when Laura tried to keep his spirits up, all the times she never broke, and even the memory of the when she'd slapped him. That earned a rueful smile from Bill. Saul grinned at Bill. "Your sweet schoolteacher could have a real mouth on her. I can't even repeat some of the things she told the Cylons to go do without blushing," Saul said, and it earned him a shadow of a laugh from Bill.

Saul trailed off. There were many stories left unsaid, and Bill tensed again, his brows furrowing hard. On some level, he knew what had happened to them all down there, he just never realized to what degree. But without being there, he never could. Putting a hand on Bill's shoulder, he assured the Commander that CIC was covered to stay with Laura. He left, giving Bill space to worry over his wife alone.

Cottle emerged from his office and came over to check on Laura's readings. He'd done this every few minutes, fanatical in his care. The medic nodded, satisfied with what he saw.

…

They'd received word that Colonial One, the original and far more ostentatious version, was enroute with President Adar aboard. Bill hadn't noticed when the rendezvous would be. Time had lost its meaning. He'd quickly gone to his quarters to splash water on his face and change clothes. Before heading out, he'd also grabbed a book. Its familiar weight and meaning brought a heaviness to his heart.

He read to her. His deep voice reverberated through sickbay. Meanwhile, the lingering interrogation drugs were making her dreams unpleasant. Every few minutes, she moaned and cried out. Words fell from her lips; disjointed, filled with fear. Bill felt horribly powerless as his wife anguished in whatever nightmarish land trapped her mind. His voice seemed to sooth her, so he kept reading. Watching her suffer felt physically painful for him too. The danger of love; he hurt because she hurt.

His voice only faltered when President Adar walked into LifeStation and rushed to Laura's side. The President's face was a mask of concern and agitation. The last thing Bill wanted was the man around Laura. Ordering the Valkyrie to rescue her was a point in his favor, but her recovery didn't need the inevitable stress his presence would provoke. Bill stayed at his wife's side, guarding her. His loyalty, love, and devotion would not allow him to leave. Instead, he planted his feet in a solid stance and regarded Adar with narrowed eyes. There was no mistaking the posture of a protective husband, but he extended a cordial greeting.

"How is she?" Adar asked, slipping a hand around her limp one. The President stared down at Laura as if she were a rare and precious jewel recently returned.

"Stable," Adama murmured, his gaze having dropped back down to the figure on the bed. Both men were startled by Laura's voice breaking through the room.

"I don't know…I don't know…" her head was thrashing back and forth. Cottle heard the monitor's readings change and raced over to check on her.

"The drugs she was subjected to are causing her to have dreams, hallucinations," the doctor explained, barely casting a look in the direction of the most powerful man on the Colonies. He adjusted the IV and drip, before looking at her readings again.

"I'm sorry," Laura moaned, caught somewhere between hallucinating and dreaming. A plane between memory and nightmare. Both Adar and Adama were trying to whisper soothing words without decking the other man.

"Bill…have to go… have to let me go…can't keep me forever…" she murmured in her sleep. "Not afraid to die…let me die…Let me go…Have to let me go, Bill," she continued. Adar's eyes widened at Laura's words. He listened to more fear filled bits of information escape. He looked up at Adama with a horrified expression. "Death warrant. Cylons coming…"

"You are safe now," Bill assured her, and Adar's eyes snapped to him. Death warrants and Cylons? He wanted to ask, but he didn't want to know the answer.

"Death meaningless…ambrosia down…Bill." Adar's heart was thundering in his chest at what he was watching and hearing. His mind didn't know what to make of everything.

Meanwhile Bill's heart was breaking. He knew the memories her mind was reliving. Cancer. Cylons. Dying. Nightmares and visions. Their arguments. Her words reminded him of several conversations they'd had as the cancer slowly claimed her life. He blushed scarlet red in shame when he heard her moan about the ambrosia.

"…burn…Pythia…burn…" Bill's hands tightened around the small hand he held.

"You're back on the Colonies, Laura. Remember?" Bill asked.

"You're going to be fine! I'll do everything in my power to help," Adar promised. Cottle looked between the two men who tried to comfort her and noticed Laura's heartrate increasing. The doctor snapped. His patient's needs came first.

"That's it. She was doing better until you came in here. I want you out. I'm throwing you out. Get out!" he yelled, looking at Adar.

"I'm the President of the Colonies, and I'm staying," he retorted defiantly. He put his hands on his hips and raised his chin, silently asking what Cottle could actually do to him. Adama narrowed his eyes, but before he could do anything, Cottle's harsh voice filled the air.

"I'm the Chief Medical Officer of this Battlestar, and you are distressing my patient. Marines!" Cottle and Adama felt a surge of pride when the marines stepped forward without question. Loyalty. Adama had always inspired loyalty, but so had Cottle. The good doctor could also inspire the fear of the Gods, and Adar was left with no chance. He threw up his hands in surrender and moved away. He eyed Adama as if waiting to see if he would be thrown out as well.

"Don't leave me Bill…"

"Guess that means you get to stay," Cottle said, looking at the marines and giving them a sharp nod. The marines took a step toward Adar, but the man sensed what was happening. He scowled but turned on his heels and left the room. Serenity returned to the sickbay, and Cottle took out a cigarette as he watched the heartrate monitor return to a far better rhythm.

"You'd have thrown me out?" Bill asked after Laura had calmed down.

"…Hera…twelve…" A few last moans escaped her lips.

"You frakkin' know I would if I thought it was in her best interests. I'd have the guards haul you out and throw you on your ass without a second thought," Cottle huffed, taking a long drag of a cigarette. He'd gone through a pack already that day. His hands remained steady, but his insides felt shaky at what he'd just done to Adar. He was satisfied with Laura's settling state, although she still mumbled incoherently.

"Never built it…clear as glass…" Bill's chest felt hallow as he realized what she was dreaming about now. He bent over and kissed her forehead before whispering in her ear.

"I'll build it for you one day, Laura. Our cabin. However big or small you want it."

"Amazing how much still think about it …little girl…our girl…"

"Think about those dreams, Laura. Dream about our cabin. We'll live there one day. Our sons will visit. We'll read to grandchildren by the fireplace. I'll build our cabin right by the perfect lake. We'll have picnics right by that water as clear as glass. Sunrise on the porch together. It'll be heavenly," he continued whispering to her until she'd fully settled.

…

After a few more hours the drugs were mostly out of Laura's system. The rest of her injuries were healing well. Now, they were waiting for her to wake up in her own time. Cottle remained in his office nearby, resting his head on the desk. Exhausted. Going to his quarters again was out of the question for him, not until Laura was clear.

Bill's voice filled sickbay.

"'the raft was not as seaworthy as I'd hoped. The waves repeatedly threated to swamp it. I wasn't afraid to die. I was afraid of the emptiness I felt inside. I couldn't feel anything, and that's what scared me. You came into my thoughts. You filled them. It felt good…'"

"I love you too," a soft whisper caressed his ear. Bill's eyes snapped up from the book to Laura, and he saw her tired green eyes staring tenderly at him. The familiar sparkle of love radiated from their depths, and his heart leapt.

"Laura!" he exclaimed hoarsely; his voice tired from the hours of reading. He jumped to his feet and took her hand as she reached out for him. She smiled. It was like the sun breaking through the clouds after a long storm. Beautiful. Radiant. Then, her face fell as reality crashed into her.

"My son! Liam! Oh Gods the Cylons!" she cried, her eyes widening in panic. Gasping in pain, she tried to get up.

"He's fine! Laura, he's fine. He's safe," Bill assured, holding her down on the bed by the shoulders. Her body trembled with fear and panic as she remembered the Cylons coming and needing to hide their son. Her breaths came out in shallow gasps as she struggled for a moment against her desperate husband. "Laura, you're both safe! Lee has Liam and Zak on Caprica. You're on the Valkyrie right now. I promise all the kids are fine. All of us are safe now," he promised her over and over as her gaze darted around taking in her surroundings. He repeated his words over and over and watched the truth settle over her.

"Oh Gods, Bill," she whispered, and he felt her body shake harder as the memories came back. Carefully, he wrapped his arms around her, knowing that she liked being held and finding comfort in her partner. He cradled her to his chest and felt her hands gripping his uniform. She whispered his name over and over from where she'd burrowed her face against his neck.

"I'm here, we're safe now," he promised again and again, until her breathing evened out.

"You found me," Laura croaked, feeling tears of lingering fear and growing relief slide down her cheeks. This wasn't a hallucination. Bill gently eased her back onto the bed, sliding his hands down to hold both of hers.

"I'll always come for you. Kobol. New Caprica. Cylon Basestars. Time jumps. Always," he promised, in a voice deep and gravely.

"Thank the Gods," she said, giving his hands a squeeze. His warm hands holding onto her gave her something to focus on; his firm grasp letting her know she was safe and loved. "My husband, the hero," she teased, her voice dry and raspy.

"How do you feel?" Bill asked, helping her take a drink of water. He leveled a look at her, raising an eyebrow. "The truth, please."

"I thought of you. Your smile. Blue eyes.…" she murmured, purposefully ignoring his question and fiddling with the gold band on his finger she'd placed there years ago. He pulled her fidgety fingers back into his grasp, stilling her movement. He'd seen the shadows lingering in her eyes.

"Laura, I've known you over a decade now. Been married to you for a chunk of that time. I can read you pretty well," he warned and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. The gesture was gentle and tender, the simple move of a loving and devoted husband. "How are you feeling?" he asked again. Laura's eyes fluttered closed, and she sighed.

"Sore," she admitted. "Hurts everywhere. Gods. It was awful, Bill!" she said, and her voice began to tremble. She told him about being abducted and interrogated by Cavil. Her nightmares. Flashbacks. Everything poured out of her.

"There was a vision I had. A new one. Like the ones I had when on chamalla. Elosha said twelve people would eventually remember, like we did," Laura recalled, but she'd tell Bill more about it later, when she felt more coherent.

Bill hated the visions. When they came, it reminded him of chamalla, cancer, and times he'd rather forget. It scared him; the idea of Laura as prophet. What scared him more is that he'd started to pay attention to some of her visions. Actually, it didn't scare him, it terrified him. Fate, destiny, and prophesy were words that always seemed to ask for a cost in blood. He looked down at her hand in his; it trembled slightly. She would steady in a few days, but Bill could never forget a time when he knew the tremors would never go away. A time when the people's Dying Leader was also his woman, his Laura, who was dying.

"You said twelve will remember?" he asked, wishing whatever gave her visions would leave her in peace. That everything would leave her in peace. "Saul remembers," he said, keeping his emotions out of his tone.

"I'm glad. It will be good for you," she murmured. She thought back to what Elosha had said. Poseidon remembers. The corner of Laura's cheek quirked in a small smile; Saul must be connected to Poseidon. Of course, the beloved brother of Zeus. Ruler of the seas and known for being bad tempered and moody. The Gods really do have a sense of humor, Laura thought.

"You're awake!" A new voice broke through life station, and they turned to see President Adar walking up to Laura's bedside. Bill heard Laura's exhale of breath, and her grip on his hands tightened. He knew her subtle body language, even though the polite smile she wore on her face might suggest she was pleased by the newcomer's presence.

"Keep it brief," Bill growled; he did not care whatsoever that he was talking to his Commander-in-Chief. Laura was his priority. He noted her lack of admonition to him, it was only a further sign of how tired and shaken she was.

"Can you give us a moment?" Adar asked.

"No," Bill immediately replied. Laura nearly snorted with laughter at Adar's affronted look; she had needed that laugh. She wondered when the pampered president had last been denied something he wanted. She quirked an eyebrow at Bill. Her husband the caveman. Sure, he had a warship instead of a club, but there were times he acted like a caveman.

"I don't think either of us are ready to let the other out of our sight," she said honestly; her husband's presence was one thing helping her keep her grasp on reality and her fears at bay. She saw slight happy twitch in his features. He agreed.

"I wanted to see how you were doing. Is there anything I can do for you?" Richard asked. He was incredibly concerned after hearing her incoherent mutterings. His mind raced to several conclusions after hearing Laura's words; what had Bill done to Laura in their timeline? She sounded as if she'd wanted to get away from her husband, and Richard would do what he could to help.

"Cylon's hospitality is as bad as I remember," Laura replied, licking her dry lips and swallowing hard at her failed attempt at levity.

"You've been captured before?" he realized, watching Laura recoil at the mention of her captures. Her jaw tensed and she refused to meet Richard's eyes. "It's really is true…all of it." Something finally clicked in the President's mind as he looked between Laura Roslin and Bill Adama. There was something he could do for his friend. He would call for a meeting between himself, his Secretary of Defense, and Admiral Nagala soon. It was time to prepare.

…

Author's note: Hopefully I'm keeping true to the characters still. Tell me if there is something you'd like to see.

Review! Please? Love getting them.