Laura was tired and so very drained. Her body ached with an exhaustion that she could feel right into her bones but sleep wouldn't come. Trapped within four foreign walls, Laura continued to lay in the rack as hours dragged by. She barely moved as the energy seeped from her.
There was nothing remarkable about the spartan quarters in which she'd been locked. The room was Prometheus's standard guest quarters equipped with a rack, table, chairs, and even a small couch. It was an outwardly acceptable place to house a President who was 'resting comfortably aboard the battlestar,' but Dagon's own muscled and scowling guards standing sentry in place of her Secret Service combined with a hatch that wouldn't budge made it melodramatically clear that this room was meant to be her prison. Zarek also blatantly told her it was so, quite cheerful at his perceived victory, and it became clear he remembered the other timeline. She would just have to jailbreak out when the time was right, when her strength returned, but until then there was nothing for her dry, puffy eyes to focus on. She looked vacantly up at the ceiling and let herself drift in and out of memories and sleep. It was like living in a fog.
A light blazed through her haze, always reminding Laura of her burning reason to fight this entrapment, Dagon, Zarek, and anyone else foolish enough to take her on. She had to survive for her little girl. Laura, President Roslin, had to keep her people safe and ensure her child had a future. In the rack, alone and cold, Laura curled around her bump, feeling the small life there. She'd live and fight on for her and Bill's daughter. It wouldn't be hard to bide her time until she found the right moment to act.
The constant pang in her chest squeezed her heart again, and Laura let her mind smooth the ache with happier memories.
In her mind, Laura relived the night after she and Bill were reunited. The memory remained clear and powerful in her thoughts even though it had happened over sixteen years ago. They'd been so confused and overwhelmed at finding themselves thrust in the past and unexpectedly together again, but it was wonderful all the same. Thinking of how they'd reconnected never failed to give her a warm flush of happiness—the memories in her mind remained unending echoes of the purest joy she'd ever known.
Laura could still recall every thought, every emotion, and every touch from that night. She remembered how badly she wanted to be held too tightly and kissed too hard. She recalled how desperately she wanted her senses to be so overwhelmed by Bill that he couldn't possibly be a hopeless mirage. He'd been returned to her, but she needed to be absolutely sure.
In her sleep, Laura smiled a sad smile as she rode along the soothing waves of memory. A tear slipped down her cheek, but no calloused finger came to wipe it away. She shifted in the rack, cold and alone. Keep breathing, Laura ordered herself, you are the President and you are going to bide your time until it's time to strike. Until then, the golden moments from her life could soothe the gaping hole in her heart.
'Just love someone,' her visions had told Laura. She had. She did. She always would. Finally opening her heart to love someone threw her completely out of alignment but made her feel truly balanced for the first time. When Bill was gone, it felt wrong; like her world was warped, skewed, and twisted.
Laura still marveled at how right that night felt. She had pulled him to her with all her might and kissed everywhere she could reach like her newly returned strength would be enough to keep him with her no matter what fate had in store. The memory is strong—her lips touching the skin of his cheek, the tip of his nose, his neck, and the top of his shoulder, and his fingers were soft against her back.
"You don't have to be so gentle with me now," Laura assured Bill, noticing how careful he handled her. Previously, cancer had forced him to be restrained, but she didn't want to feel like a cancer patient anymore. She wanted to feel strong and alive.
In the twilight room Bill's fingers continued to lightly caress her skin as if afraid a heavier touch would break the magic.
"I don't want to hurt…" With a frustrated growl, Laura dragged his head down to hers and cut him off with a bruising kiss. She didn't hold back but poured her heart and soul into the act. Pulling back, their eyes locked and the moment stretched between them. His eyes searched hers while they deeply breathed the same heady air. Done hiding, she was unashamed and let her soul be barred to him at that moment, and in turn Laura saw the vulnerable hope in his eyes and the honest love.
"You have me back," she promised. "All of me."
"I missed you so much."
"Me too."
"Never letting you go, Laura," he swore, and there was a passionate vehemence that should have made even the gods fear to cross him.
"Well then I guess I'm all yours," she teased lightly, her playful side coming out. She wove her hands through his hair and felt his arms slip around her body to pull her close. The rest of the night was raw and intense but honest and freeing.
Back in her prison, Laura woke covered in sweat and tears. She could almost hear Bill's name echoing against the bulkheads from her scream. The memory of his name being torn from her throat as her heart burst with love and passion ebbed away, leaving her feeling sad, empty, and terribly alone.
"Must have been a good dream," Zarek chuckled. He was seated at the small table in the room. His feet were lazily propped up on another chair as he occupied his time reading reports while casually intruding into her space. Laura bit back the cutting remarks she wanted to make at the smug looking bastard's unwanted presence. His smirk told her that he would delight in getting a rise out of her, but Laura was past caring about what the two-timing snake wanted. He would get nothing from her. At her silence, Zarek poked again. "You were dreaming of him, weren't you? The almighty but fallen Zeus."
"Jealous?" Laura taunted, giving him a cold smile. She listened to Zarek's huff when he failed to get the better of her and then laughed at his idiocy. She sat up and pushed her hair back, the damp strands clinging to her forehead. It had been a good dream, she thought, pushing herself from the rack and grabbing her jacket from the nearby chair. There was only this one suit to wear, they'd locked her in this room with nothing else. Thank the gods it still fit her, but just barely. She sat down across the table from her old nemesis.
"At least you were legally allowed to be in bed with Adama this time," Zarek fired at her.
Laura folded her hands on the table as if for polite conversation because she could play demure prisoner until it was time. "Don't you get tired of your games, Mr. Zarek?"
"I get tired of losing, Laura. So, I decided that I'm not going to lose again. Commander Dagon and I have agreed to free and lead the Fleet together."
"It's Madame President to you, Mr. Zarek, and we'll see just how this unfolds."
"It is done this time. It's over, Laura," Zarek said, and Laura felt the heat of tears rising in her eyes despite her refusal to show any weakness. It couldn't be over, her breaking heart screamed. Her throat tried to close in on itself, but she swallowed hard.
"You've said that to me before. Remind me again of how that ended for you?" she asked in a low voice. He had the decency to flinch, and his reaction satisfied Laura.
"I learned a lot in that timeline. Things you and the almighty Adama taught me. Lessons New Caprica taught me. He abandoned us on that planet, remember? Cylon detention."
"I do seem to recall you helping Baltar win the election that put us on that gods-forsaken rock. Bill chose to live and run so he could fight another day. He has a tendency to come back."
"Pathetically, you ran back to him every time he returned, didn't you? Well, Zeus won't be returning to Olympus," Zarek gave her a look up and down that made her skin crawl, "or to his Hera this time." A wave of nausea overtook Laura, and she pressed a hand to her stomach. She wanted to believe he was lying.
"No."
Zarek needed to see Laura Roslin defeated, taunted and pushed into a grave beside her Cylon-loving Admiral. He smirked again. "It's just you and me."
"Commander Dagon might have something to say about your belief that it's just you and me."
"Maybe," Zarek pressed on, as if sensing the grief that threatened to crush his rival. He'd lived through too many disappointments and he wanted to watch Laura realize her options were gone. "Too bad you can't use the same trick on Dagon that you used to get Adama to do your bidding. I can admit, I admired the strategy. It's sound. By securing your place in Adama's bed you had control of the military through him. Now, I'm just not sure the seduction game would have the same effect coming from the widow of his commanding officer."
Shaking her head, she kept her gaze off him, she couldn't bear to look his way, because if they made eye contact she thought she might vomit.
"Is that your plan here? Remove everyone I love and then what? Try your own seduction game? Are you here to turn on the charm? Maybe offer a shoulder for me to cry on? Are you hoping I'm so desperate that you can sneak in and claim the power you want?"
"Would it have ever worked?"
"No. You're a hard man to like."
"Even though I hid you after you broke out of the jail he threw you in? I took you to Kobol. I supported you. I gave you the Presidency! But you rejected me. You never gave me a chance. I wanted to help. I wanted what was best for the people."
"Giving you any more chances than I did would have seen us all dead," she accused, thinking of his pathetic attempt at justice with the Circle and the mutiny that nearly destroyed the last bit of hope their people had left.
"I wanted to set us free."
"You know, maybe you could have been a good person once. I thought I saw the man you could be back on New Caprica. But you got twisted and lost. Now I hope to live long enough to see that realization flash in your eyes that you are nothing more than a little man." Zarek slammed his hands down on the table, jumping to his feet. His gaze blazed down on her, but she didn't even flinch. He paced away from the stone-cold woman, his hands shaking and his own rage boiling at his inability to get any rise out of her.
"Do you really think your sins and those of your husband's—your late husband—were better than mine? Cleaner than mine? The only difference is he wore a uniform and I didn't. He was a military strong-man who overthrew civilian rule, ruled by nepotism, undermined criminal inquiries he himself launched, and made clear he would overthrow any government he opposed. You just never batted an eye because you were blinded by his bulk," Zarek stopped his furious pacing to face her. His face was red, and he was shouting so loud her eardrums were ringing. "Tell me, who was the one twisted and lost?"
"Asks the man drowning in blood! Tell me, Mr. Zarek, how can you look the Quorum in the eye? Those are good people you ordered murdered! Was the death count not high enough for you in the other timeline? Tell me, did you think of Gaeta at all when you and Dagon, what, sabotaged Galactica? It is sabotage one of you ordered, right? Did you think of the men and women onboard? Or are they just acceptable casualties on your crusade?" Laura was righteous indignation personified. Tangled hair falling around her shoulders, blazing glare, and growling voice—she was a raging fire that seemed impossible to control.
"I spared you," Zarek hissed, and Laura finally snapped.
"My son was aboard Galactica. My sixteen-year-old son who never wronged you in any way. He just carried his father's name. Was it good enough to see him dead too? You are nothing more than a butcher. A bloody butcher who craves power and will kill anyone to get it," she yelled, standing up and snarling the words into Zarek's face.
Zarek panted, clenching and unclenching his fists. He hated being reduced to nothing more than a butcher. Butcher, the critics called him, like he carried a cleaver and ran his own horror show. Butcher Laura called him, and before he even knew what he was doing he'd struck Roslin across the face. The cracking of his hand exploding across his cheek startled, stilled, both of them. She fell back in her chair, holding her face and breathing heavily. He stared at the rise and fall of her breasts and then let his eyes trail up to where she touched her face gingerly, the white fingers tracing a forming bruise.
She laughed coldly.
"Oh, Tom, take this little victory. But when the time comes, I'm going to wipe that smug little grin off your face. And then I am going to break you. I'm going to know what it looks like to see Tom Zarek realize he has nothing and no one. Then you'll die. I promise you."
Zarek stared at her. He'd come to her prison to revel in his victory over her. He'd come to...he wasn't exactly sure. One minute he wanted to offer her a shoulder to cry on and play the same seduction game she'd played. The next minute he wanted to see her broken and on the floor. But her head remained high and she remained, somehow, in power. Gods damn it all, he thought.
"Widows should wear black," Zarek snapped, reaching into the bag he'd brought and tossing a black dress at her. "Elosha found it for you. The funeral is in an hour. Get ready."
He felt her eyes on his as he stalked out of the room, cold and unyielding. She hadn't surrendered to him professionally or personally, in body or in spirit. That didn't mean he couldn't try again. He thought ahead to the coming funeral.
…
Widow. That was a designation Laura never thought would be applied to her. Throughout her life, she seemed to acquire titles she never expected: president, prophet, wife, and mother. She had discovered she could be the President of the Colonies. Being the prophet was forced upon her, but she upheld her end of that cosmic bargain. The Dying Leader, she'd been called. That ended as predicted. Laura looked down at the onyx pendant in her hand and knew she would rather be the 'Dying Leader' instead of Adama's widow in any universe or any timeline. There wasn't even a title that could encompass a mother who'd lost her son.
She ran a hand over the onyx pendant she wore everyday, feeling the etched edge of the symbol carved into it. Bill always spoke more with actions rather than words. She smiled sadly. Giving her his ring and then this pendent told her more than any words could that she meant everything to him. 'Sealed in a union for all the eternities' she remembered vowing when they married. But until their promised reunion, every fiber of her being ached from the loss.
"You said those who remembered would help us," Laura growled out to the empty quarters, knowing that her gods wouldn't deign to answer her back. 'Twelve to remember. Twelve to help.' She clenched her fist around the pendent. "Frak all of you," she said, cursing the divinities who seemed to enjoy turning their backs on her despite Laura trying to follow their will.
The clang and screech of an opening hatch to her quarters grated against her ears. Laura listened as Dagon's goon squad marched in, having not bothering with social niceties like knocking.
"Madame President, we're here to escort you to the hangar deck for the funeral."
Taking a deep breath, Laura rose from the table gliding like a phantom. She was pale as a white rose, and the black dress contrasted sharply with her skin. It fell to her knee and clung to her body. She stared coldly at the guards when they gaped at their president, letting their eyes rest on her midsection. There was no hiding the baby in this dress, but Elosha would have known that fact. Laura saw the wisdom in letting the Fleet know of her daughter's existence; Dagon and Zarek couldn't just quietly martyr their president who carried a deceased war hero's child. It would keep the baby safe.
Laura fastened the pendent around her neck and she felt the cool stone rest against her skin.
"Let's go," she ordered the guards in a stone-cold voice, drifting past them.
Catching up, they quickly formed a blockade around her. Had Commander Dagon found the tallest, burliest, and sourest bunch of grunts to escort her to the funeral? The thought of how that was going to look with the press and the Fleet comforted Laura as she was marched through the corridors of Prometheus like a woman being driven to her own execution instead of a wife and mother whose family was gone.
"Madame President," her guard warned, urging her to walk faster.
This wasn't the plan, she shook her head, feeling a trembling in her bones as she took another step. Bill and her, all the way to Earth and then living together in a cabin surrounded by children and grandchildren. That was the plan. Bill, Liam, Lee, Kara, Cottle, Billy, Saul, and Boomer all working together to bring the Fleet to Earth again was the deal, what the gods had ordained.
Frak the gods. Frak the gods and damn the terrorists and traitors who forced her to walk toward this funeral. She was a Roslin, and even without the name, she was an Adama. One foot kept stepping in front of the other. Whatever Dagon had planned, whatever farce Zarek wanted to turn any event into, Laura was going to walk onto that hangar bay and honor her husband and sons.
Nearing the hangar deck, it was easy to hear the buzz from the crowds that had gathered there for the funeral. The snapping sound of cameras reached her ears. She turned the corner in time to catch an impromptu interview with members of the press. The media crews were wrapped around someone like animals starved for news. The suited individual tossed morsels of information out and they gobbled up each bit and looked needingly at their provider. It was dangerous—attaining power through the people.
"With the loss of Admiral Adama, who is in charge of the Fleet?" one reporter demanded.
"Commander Dagon has assumed command of this fleet. I have every confidence in his leadership, and we need strong leadership right now."
"Councilman Zarek, we've heard you visited President Laura Roslin aboard the Battlestar Prometheus earlier today. Can you speak to the state that she is in? Will she be able to continue on as President given the loss of the Battlestar Galactica?"
"Unfortunately, Laura Roslin seems particularly affected by the loss of our flagship and its Admiral. The Quorum is considering a vote of no confidence as she's been quite consumed by everything that has happened. I believe we need to hold elections as soon as possible."
"So you do not believe she'll be able to lead us?"
"I think it is time to demand free and open elections to choose a new leadership. President Roslin will feel free to mourn in peace, and we will ensure we have qualified leaders, chosen by the people."
"Are you one such leader?"
"I am. We need a government that represents all the people. This is not for me, but for all the survivors of the holocaust and for the children of humanity's future."
"Madame President!" Billy's voice yelped, as he pushed past the media and crowds converging to get onto the hangar deck. "I'll take it from here," her aide said folding his arms and leveling a gaze at the goon squad. 'Someone ate their vegetables again this morning.' The thought popped into Laura's head and she felt a spark of pride in the boy who'd grown up. She was terrified and touched all at once as her aide faced down the guards. Not too far off, the press was looking on with interest at the scene in front of them. 'I taught the boy well,' Laura realized at the staged scene.
"Madame President, what happened?" Billy asked, noticing the purple and red bruise on her face which she'd not bothered to try to hide.
"Zarek wanted to talk," Laura said, but offered no more explanation than that. She heard the unhappy murmur of the press as their curious gazes darted along her body. Billy, daring anyone to question him, moved forward and offered an elbow to her.
"I'll take you in," he said. "I'll be by you the whole time."
Laura gave him a small smile. Oh, Billy. Oh dear, sweet, Billy. He wasn't a baby bird barely leaving the nest anymore, he had become an eagle soaring high and ready to sink his talons into threat and prey alike. The loss of Dee had hit him hard she knew, and Laura hoped it wouldn't harden him too much. Behind the sharp beak and razor talons he was still so young.
"Thank you, Billy," Laura said, slipping her arm around his. The guards made room for him, and allowed her aide to escort her past the press, who snapped their pictures, and onto the hangar deck.
"He'd kick my ass if I didn't take care of you," Billy offered, and Laura chuckled at the idea of the two atheists going at it in the afterlife.
There were warriors in dress greys everywhere. They wore their full regalia to honor the fallen. Representatives from many of the ships in the Fleet were present as well. Dagon's guards kept people away from Laura—for her protection, they said. Members of the Quorum were seated nearby, and many of them nodded their condolences to their President. She noted the Commanders of the Battlestars Valkyrie and Daedalus come to attention as she passed. She was still their President, but they'd also known Bill, been friendly acquaintances, and in his memory they'd keep respecting her despite Dagon's clear disregard for her.
Holding her head high, she was able to make it to the center of the hangar deck. The flags of the Colonies were prominently displayed. The flag of the Battlestar Galactica and the unified flag of the Twelve Colonies took the honored places in the front, behind the lecturn from where the memorial would be conducted. Laura studied the display. It was all starting to feel too final.
Someone plopped down in the seat next to her, folding her arms and glaring at the display while shaking her head.
"I just want to punch him," Kara said. "I want Lee to pop out of one of those vipers with a big smile and I want to smack it right off his face." The two women stared at the display in front of them. There were no coffins they could focus on; there was no way to recover bodies of those who'd died in fiery explosions in space.
"I know."
"They should be here but they're not. That frakking bastard, asshole, self-righteous idiot should be here, and I want to kill him for not being here."
"You'd give anything to have them—him—back."
"Last words we said were angry ones, and it's all his fault for being such a bastard and part of me hates him for that."
"But you mostly want him to know how much you love him."
"We aren't supposed to be the ones still here." Kara's head collapsed on Laura's shoulder. Laura rolled her eyes when the snapping of cameras grew louder for a moment.
"I know."
"I miss Liam. He always made us smile didn't he?" Laura felt her throat constricting again and could only nod her agreement. Her son had been something special, a star that burned brightly in her life, and now left her cold with its absence.
Bill would have hated his funeral. The entire affair was more performance than funeral and so full of pomp and ceremony that it didn't fit the memory of the battered Battlestar and equally stern Admiral.
Commander Dagon delivered a speech on heroism and glory. He assured the people that he felt the weight of taking over the responsibility of protecting the Fleet from such an upstanding officer. He would do his duty, he promised. The other commanders looked at each other warily, a note of disquietude between them at the honeyed speech being given that was more acceptance speech than memorial.
It took too long. There were too many speeches and too many hymns. Finally, the audience stood as one.. The soldiers came to sharp attention as the honor guard took a stance and fired off rounds of blanks. When the shots stopped echoing over the people, a bugler stepped forward. The notes he played were grief made audible. The mournful tune continued as the Galactica flag and the Unified Flag were lowered. Uniformed men and women with cords on their shoulders and gloves on their hands stepped up and took the edges of the fabric.
The flags were carefully folded twelve times and the young officers—looking far too young and far too sad from being on the run for their lives—handed them to Commander Dagon. He turned and stepped off the dias and down to Laura.
Standing right in front of her, he presented her with the flags.
"On behalf of the Quorum of Twelve, and the grateful Twelve Colonies of Kobol, please accept these flags as symbols of our appreciation for your loved one's honorable and faithful service."
Laura's heart shattered as she took the heavy flags in her hands, gripping the fabric tightly in her fingers. She watched Dagon perform an about face and return to his seat. She tried to breathe, but she knew Dagon had something to do with Galactica's downfall. Dagon shouldn't be the one still here and definitely couldn't be trusted with the Fleet. She held the flags tightly to herself as her mind tried to stay focused. A tear rolled onto her cheek. Dagon and Zarek were trying to take away what power she had—power she needed not because she wanted it, but because her people needed her. What would anyone's sacrifice mean if the traitor and terrorist destroyed it all?
Elosha walked up onto the dais to conclude the service, and the two women looked each other in the eye. They understood the resolve between the two of them. The priest looked out over the crowd and spoke.
"With heavy hearts we lift up their spirits to you, O Lords of Kobol, in the knowledge that you will take from them their burdens and give them life eternal." The hangar bay remained in a state of reverent silence as Elosha spoke. "And we look to our leader, the promised leader, given to us by the Lords of Kobol. As it was written in the Book of Pythia: 'The Lords anointed two leaders to guide the Caravan of the Heavens to their new homeland. And unto the leaders they gave a gift of new life: a daughter as a sign of things to come. The impossible child would be born during their journey, and she would be the symbol of the Lords' promise that life would continue.' We have found our leader, and we must continue to trust in her guidance."
Laura turned as murmurs swept through the masses. The people processed the news and Laura noticed the eyes of hundreds of curious and confused faces focused in her direction, expressions begging her for guidance. She knew Dagon and Zarek would try to keep her locked up after this. She took a deep breath and moved to the podium to speak.
"Thank you all for coming to honor the Galactica and sharing in our grief. Those of us who knew them ache at their loss. My husband was an… amazing man and his crew were extraordinary people. They had faith that a better day was coming for all of us, that we would get through this together. In their memory, I will continue this journey my husband and I started together and the carry on our goal of preserving the human race with everything at my command. If I have been chosen by the gods to help lead you, I will not question this choice. I will try to play my part while remembering the hope that was always in my husband's eyes. I will lead us to our salvation for the sake of my people, for the sake of humanity's children, and for the sake of my daughter. It is my sole purpose."
"Get her out of here!" Zarek yelled. As Dagon's marines removed her from the hangar bay, the people screamed their protest.
Her eyes swept over the crowd, some of them reaching out to touch her now as she was hauled away. She could hear people praising the gods for this salvation. She could practically feel the devotion she'd inspired once again in her people for their leader. For her daughter and for those that had been lost, Laura Roslin reclaimed the title of Prophesied Leader.
…
Author's note: thank you for the continuing support! I'm posting this chapter earlier than I thought I would. Yeay! Hoping the next chapter is done soon too. I keep going knowing people are enjoying this. Sorry if I've made people sad with this chapter.