Author's note: Please be warned, this section is rated M. There is nothing too graphic, but I thought it better safe than sorry to add a warning for violence and language.

...

This was a wild place. Kobol's green hills echoed with an ancient power that had now long lain dormant and forgotten. The grass, the trees, the air itself whispered of forces greater than any mere mortal could envisage. Secrets only known by the wilds of Kobol. All who walked over its emerald fields felt the same creeping sensation rise up through their bones—it warned them away from this place. The cloying mud and rain against their skin reminded them that they were unwelcome foreigners in this land even if no one had told them so. Everyone on Kobol realized they were foreigners who played but small parts in a greater story. A story that had begun in this place.

Laura stood on the rocky ridge bordering on Galleon Meadow of Kobol, looking out over the toiling people in the distance. Kobol's dim sunlight firing her hair, making her glow with the old power of Kobol, reminding those who saw her that she was one of the few welcome in this wilderness. Behind her, Zarek watched her radiating everything he wanted to claim and possess: authority, importance, and Laura herself.

"The people," Zarek crooned in Laura's ear stepping up behind her. He leaned in close, and Laura stomach curled when his warm exhales brushed against her ear. "To make change you have to control the right people and positions, even resources."

"You're using the water gathered here as a bargaining chip. Nothing really is beneath you," Laura said, folding her arms. Looking closely, she noticed many of those working wore prisoner red jumpsuits that marked out those who came from Astral Queen—Zarek's ship. His people led the harvest, and had practically weaponized Hestia's Hierarchy of Needs.* She'd often thought about that hierarchy as President while trying to make sure each ship in their rag-tag Fleet had food, drink, shelter, sleep, and oxygen. So many people complained about comfort while other ships were leaking air or missing food. And here was Zarek worrying about his self-esteem and freedom. She wrinkled her nose at the repellent man.

"I'd do anything for freedom," he growled. "I refuse to live again under the yoke of President Roslin and Admiral Adama. The Fleet deserves better than a fraud and a drunk who both play at peace with Cylons."

"Well, a blood-thirsty terrorist should be a step-up for the people," she taunted, turning to look at him. Despite heart-wrenching sadness in her eyes from the losses she'd suffered, there was a proud and defiant tilt to her head. "Last time, you had the chance to get on people's good side for years. But even at my lowest, the Quorum still didn't want you to take my place." Zarek took a step toward her, coming flush against her. Laura merly tilted her head further up to keep eye contact and raised an unimpressed eyebrow at his intimidation tactics.

In prison, he had learned that if you want to control someone you intimidate them. In a flash, he caught Laura by her pale throat, his thumb pushing her pulsepoint where he could feel her racing heartbeat.

"You're a firebrand, Roslin. I was always amazed Adama never got burned by you. He stuck by you to the end."

'To the end,' Laura thought. The fateful words she'd spoken when accepting the invitation to join Adar's campaign. For the eternities… Laura felt a traitorous tear trickle down her cheek. She flinched when Zarek wiped it away with the rough pad of his thumb. She wanted to push him away. Push him away and then wash the dirt and mud from this planet off her skin. Zarek was lower than dirt, and she felt a need to wash that man from her skin as well. From where he'd touched her to drag her along down to Kobol. She wanted to scrub raw the place where his breath had touched her. It all clung to her, like a slick oil that she doubted the rains of Kobol could wash away. Instead, she kept still, refusing to give him the satisfaction of reacting.

"Always had a soft spot for you," Zarek murmured, his thumb caressing the soft skin of her neck. "I'd almost forgotten how beautiful you looked while healthy. I'm guessing cancer is no longer threatening to drag you into an early grave alongside your beloved Admiral?" He enjoyed taunting her. He enjoyed watching the struggle behind her eyes as she tried to repress her reaction to him. "The press called your dead husband Zeus. Makes you Hera—the goddess known to be vengeful and vindictive toward those who cross her. There were so many times I should have killed you. I probably should kill you now," he murmured, increasing the pressure on her throat and grinning when she gave a soft gasp.

Laura didn't move to free herself. There was stubbornness in her that refused to be broken by the likes of Zarek. He huffed and puffed and she was calling him on it, or so she prayed.

"What's going on here?" Dagon's gruff voice demanded, coming into their peripheral vision as he and his charge crested over the ridge. Neither Zarek or Laura moved, but glared daggers at each other.

"Let her go!" Kara ordered. "You know she's frakking pregnant you gods damn frakface!" The pure vitriol in Kara's tone wiped the grin from Zarek's face. She launched herself at Zarek with a guttural yell, "Let her go!"

With his quick reflexes, Dagon yanked Kara back, holding her fast against him. Without hesitation, Kara swung the Arrow of Apollo behind her, catching Dagon hard in the side of the face. Dagon staggered back, allowing Kara to wrench free and rush toward Zarek, who released Laura and stepped back in fear. She slammed into him, sending him sprawling to the ground. She slammed her foot into Zarek's side. He yelled out in pain.

A gunshot cracked through the air, and the ground beside Kara and Zarek exploded, spewing pebbles and dirt in the air.

"Next shot will be to your head," Dagon warned.

Knowing Kara was too worked up to stop, Laura jumped forward and pulled Kara away from Zarek. The young girl kept spewing venom at the terrorist, ignoring the gun pointed at them. She moved to lunge at him again, but Laura's was the iron grip of a protective mother as she urged the girl to calm down.

"That frakking lowlife wants to kill you!"

"And Dagon wants to put a bullet in you right now!" Laura warned. Kara turned and noted the gun still trained on her. She narrowed her eyes, and Laura could see the desire in the cocky viper pilot to strike out at a target and inflict as much damage as she could before being shot down. "Kara!"

"Alright. Fine," Kara snarled, raising her hands in mock surrender for Dagon's benefit. "I'll behave," she spat at the wary commander. "But keep your backless joke of a terrorist under control."

Dagon glanced over at Zarek, then back at Kara and nodded, holstering his gun. Over the ridge, several armed marines joined them, alarmed at Dagon's gunshot. He motioned for them to stand down. Kara moved to Laura while Dagon approached his fallen comrade, hoisting Zarek to his feet. The women noted Dagon yanking his fellow Sagittaron close enough to whisper words of warning in his ear. Meanwhile, Kara held up the Arrow of Apollo for Laura to see.

"Turns out, Dagon is religious," Kara said in a low voice. "Says he found god during the first Cylon War. He knows his scriptures. Knows the Pythian Prophecy almost as well as we do." Laura snorted.

"Thought we'd never have to see that thing again," Laura sighed, tracing the lines of the Arrow. It didn't surprise her to learn that Dagon was religious. Most Sagittarons she'd known were. Their people, after all, had split from the infamous fanatically religious Gemenese thousands of years ago, but they never forgot their fundamentalist religious roots.

"He thinks if he can use this to get the map, the Fleet will unite behind him," Kara told Laura.

"He's not wrong," Laura murmured, shaking her head. "Are you alright? Going back to Caprica…"

"I didn't see Sam," Kara huffed, cutting her off. "I didn't see anyone from the resistance. I'm starting to hate this timeline more than the original. We've lost everyone."

"Not everyone," Laura said, pulling Kara into an embrace. For a few long moments, she held the younger woman, feeling the trembles of sadness and rage shake through Starbuck. Kara was holding onto her control by a thread. Laura pulled back and cradled the young woman's head in her hands, pressing their foreheads together. "Not everyone. Stay safe, Kara. I can't lose a daughter after everything. For my sake, please?"

"I'll try," Kara promised after a long moment of hesitation. The Old Man would want her to make the promise. He'd want her to watch after Laura and the baby. Lee would too. She could do this for them, cool her impulses and stay safe. "Helo and Sharon are onboard the Valkyrie. That's why I had to stop there first. Sharon knows how to reach where we're going—the Gates of Hera."

Maybe a rescue would come for them.

…

With the virus from their computer erased, Galactica was ready to jump back to the Fleet. In the Ready Room, Saul Tigh briefed the marine platoon that would storm the Battlestar Prometheus and relieve Dagon of his command. He'd be held in Galactica's brig until his role in their sabotage could be determined.

In his quarters, Adama had pulled on his utility uniform. The dark- and light-grey camouflage was something he'd been required to own as a member of the Fleet, but he'd rarely worn the uniform. He'd lead the mission to secure their President, be she on Colonial One, Prometheus, Astral Queen, or Kobol itself. He'd let nothing, not traitors or terrorists, stand in his way. They'd jump to Kobol within the hour. Of course, they were counting on the Fleet still orbiting the planet, and Adama knew that a two-week separation was an eternity in their dystopian reality. He hoped Laura hadn't given up on seeing him once more.

He picked up a framed photo of his family laughing in sunlight on a distant beach. Whatever forced them together, he loved his wife with every fiber of his being, and if Dagon or Zarek had hurt her… He set the photo down when he heard someone enter the open hatch of his quarters.

"I'm going with you. I have to help get them back," Lee said, giving his father a determined and outright defiant stare that channeled Starbuck's maverick spirit. It warned the Admiral that he'd be going along, orders be damned.

"They might be on Kobol. You remember what that was like. Any return to Kobol demands a price be paid in blood. I'm only taking marines," he said.

"I went through training. I fought through hell-holes most of those marines can't begin to imagine. The memories of all that crap might as well do some good, like yours have!" The anger in his eyes didn't cover the scared boy underneath the uniform. Bill could see the pain and guilt etched over Lee's face that his son couldn't suppress.

Bill felt a flash of realization and pinched the bridge of his nose. He glanced at the copy of the Sacred Scrolls left on the table, open to the image of the City of the Gods.

"It's all happened before and will all happen again. Reuniting with a wayward son on the surface of Kobol," Bill muttered, shaking his head.

"Reuniting with your partner," Lee reminded him. He followed his father's gaze and saw the open pages of the Sacred Scrolls. He frowned. "Do you think the gods enjoy playing with our lives?"

"Still an atheist," Bill grumbled. Lee stared at his father, until a bark of laughter escaped his mouth and then another. At his father's confused expression, he couldn't help the borderline hysterical laughter that broke free.

"I don't even know what to believe anymore!" Lee said, throwing up his arms. "I just know I keep making stupid mistakes," he admitted. In that second, the laughter died, and the guilt and pain returned. "I keep making stupid mistakes. And I want to fix them."

Lee's words hung in the air as Bill studied his son, weighing, measuring, and evaluating. He knew that at heart, Lee was a good man with no more sins on his conscience than Bill himself had. Lee remained his own worst enemy though, and Bill had come far enough as a parent to finally talk to his son.

"You don't realize what you've got until it's gone, Lee. It's always been your biggest problem, even as a kid. Kara, Dualla, Laura, and even Zak. You were jealous of your brother as a kid and barely made time for him, but when he died you lashed out at everything. They all slip through your fingers, and then you get angry once you realize what you've lost. Meanwhile, you're so busy seeing the world in absolute black and white that you take it personally when people fall into the grey area where reality actually happens. You put Laura on a pedestal, and get angry when she falls down as humans do. Kara loves you, or she doesn't. And your ego won't let you admit to being wrong."

As if someone had slammed a Viper into his stomach, Lee staggered to the couch. Holding his head in his hands as he processed his father's words. He hadn't spoken them unkindly, just with the same Adama candor that characterized most of his life, but he couldn't find the words to protest. He could only see himself standing in Laura's office, seeing the hurt flash in her eyes. He felt his face redden where Kara had slapped him hard after she'd learned he remembered and had kept it a secret. He felt the shame eating at his stomach like the most corrosive of acids as he remembered hesitating in his Viper when ordered to shoot down the escort ship before it destroyed the Battlestar Yashuman.

"You're right," Lee said, swallowing hard. The laughter of earlier was gone, now changed to tears he tried to choke down. "You're right. I need to do better."

"You're a good man, Lee. I'm proud to call you my son. But you need to stop being your own worst enemy. Kara never stopped loving you. She still does. Zak does. Liam does," Bill said. Lee felt the couch dip next to him as his father sat down. "And you were always Laura's so-called Captain Apollo."

"You know, I did try and explain how call-signs worked," Lee said, wiping his face free of the tears which wouldn't stop coming.

"She does what she wants," Bill shrugged. Lee sniffed, and nodded.

"You know, there's this stereotype, when a military dad comes home, everyone is happy to have him back. But I hated it when you came home. It threw everything off—our whole rhythm. Everyone would be so tense. Mom, Carolanne, was always worse to deal with in the days after you left. She always complained, and…" Lee shook his head, and Bill wondered, not for the first time, if Lee had told him the full extent of Carolanne's abuse. Lee cleared his throat and continued. "When we lived with Laura, she'd get so excited when you were coming home. The house would smell like cookies from her baking. She couldn't cook, but knew all us boys had a sweet tooth. One day, I realized Zak and I were excited you'd be at home waiting for us after school. We'd become the family I always wanted in the other timeline. I need to help put the family back together again."

Bill slowly nodded, regarding his son intently.

"Alright."

…

Maybe, thought Sharon Valerii, maybe it was only fair that her world had become as strange and nonsensical as Helo's had after she'd dropped her little 'I'm actually a Cylon' truth bomb on him. He hadn't handled it well. She was trying to handle this situation well, knowing that if she proved the humans' fears justified, she'd be tossed out an airlock. Her baby deserved better.

Starbuck had shown up back on Caprica like a hero of old on a half-crazed quest, daring anything, any Cylon monster or enemy skinjob, to stop her. Sharon reflected again on how the Viper pilot had marched right up to Helo when she'd spotted them in Delphi, the full zeal of her quest practically palatable in the air.

"Got any hidden programming or orders from your Cylon bros I need to worry about?" Kara had demanded without preamble, cocking an eyebrow. Taken aback by her brusque honesty, Sharon had shaken her head, words failing her. Missing no beat, Kara had ordered her and Helo to follow along and keep up. Too bewildered to argue, they did. Kara must have been able to sense their disbelief and confusion as she beelined for the Museum at Delphi, which housed the Arrow of Apollo.

"Boomer turned out to be a friend, but even if you're not, I don't got much to lose," Kara had offered in a clipped tone. Helo had finally slowed his old friend down, getting enough of the story out of her before hugging Kara close when hearing of Lee's death.

After a whirlwind adventure (less whirlwindy than Kara expected when Six didn't attack her, Sam didn't point a gun at her, and Simon didn't experiment on her), they'd rejoined the Fleet. Kara chose to land on Valkyrie first, knowing otherwise Dagon would kill Sharon on sight. She had to go back, though. He'd threatened to hurt Laura and the baby if she didn't, and she couldn't risk him carrying out such a threat.

"She knows how to get to the Tomb of Athena," Kara had explained to Commander Ziegler of the Valkyrie. "Use her. Dagon is vulnerable on Kobol, and it's the best opportunity you'll have to rescue the President."

Now, a group of marines gathered, all volunteers. Ziegler didn't trust Sharon, and was hesitant to risk the lives of the men under his command, but enough were loyal to the memory of Adama. Sharon waited by one of the Raptors, feeling each suspicious glance thrown her way. Some stopped and narrowed their eyes, openenly looking her over. That was fine to her. Let them. She tried not to let it bother her. After all, it was hardly surprising. She expected their disbelief, even their hatred. She'd seen all those emotions in Helo's eyes when she revealed who or what… no, who she was. Despite Kara vouching for her, Commander Ziegler didn't trust her at all. Helo had been confined to quarters pending Sharon's return with Dagon and the President. She was under no illusion: either she and the volunteer marines returned with the President, or she or Helo would die.

...

Dagon's overbearing marines guarded Laura and Kara while their group trudged along the path, the High Road, which lead them up the mountain to the Tomb of Athena. Their group slipped and slid in the slick mud of Kobol as the unending drizzle of rain plastered hair and clothes against their skin.

Laura shivered constantly, cold and wet in the mountain air. A kinder soldier than the rest, an old greyed grunt with kind eyes named David, had produced an oversized jacket for her to wear. The sleeves were so long, Laura had to roll them up to expose her hands. More than once the soldier tried to help Laura when she lost her footing in the mud and damp leaves, or when she became tangled in the branches and roots. Kara eyed him with suspicion despite each friendly gesture.

The details of the trek blurred together. Droplets of rain hit leaves and wind rustled the tops of the trees. With each breath came the musky, fresh smell of wet dirt. Laura pressed on despite the weight of her people's fate resting on her shoulders and the pain in her heart. She could distract herself by thinking of the visions of her daughter that she'd had—the pretty chestnut haired girl with Bill's eyes who ran through fields and chased butterflies. It soothed the pain a bit, but the worry about her baby was constant. Doc Cottle would have had a fit if he knew what was going on. He'd put the fear of the gods into Dagon, Zarek, and their posse of soldiers in reaction to their dragging his favorite problem patient across Kobol in her state.

Cold to the bone, Laura found the rains of Kobol a blessing. When she turned her head up to the sky and let the drops fall on her face, her tears could be hidden. The salt trails were washed away, keeping her grief from being a spectacle for her enemies.

"Keep moving," a marine ordered. Laura sighed. Her feet ached—a constant pulsing pain. Her back protested the hard pace Dagon set for the group. Physical pain added to her emotional turmoil, but she refused to ask for a break. She turned back to the path.

"Madame President," the marine warned again.

"Lay off, you frakass!" Kara snarled, stepping back to where Laura had paused.

"It's alright," Laura muttered in a rough voice. "Just needed to breathe," she explained, forcing her feet to carry her forward. She gave Kara a small smile. "I think that might be a new insult to add to my vocabulary, Starbuck."

"This trip is inspiring me."

"How are you doing?" Laura asked in a gentle tone, letting Kara know she wanted to know the honest truth instead of being given an empty platitude like 'fine'.

"It just… hits every so often. Just this wall of hurting. There's no way to climb over it. It's not just that they're gone, it's…"

"All the tomorrows you should have had with them. The memories that will never be," Laura said sadly. How many times had she felt this way? She thought of her sisters and the cousin Liam never knew. She thought of Bill and the cabin they'd never share.

"That's it," Kara nodded. "I can't stop thinking of all the times Lee and I frakked each other over. I'm not sure if we ever made each other happy, but I loved him anyway. We were a mismatched pair," she grumbled. "I felt ready to try. Maybe this time we'd have been happy." Kara leveled a threatening glare at Dagon and Zarek who walked ahead of the column. "Because of them, I'll never know." Knowledge from the other timeline allowed Zarek to claim to know how to find the Tomb of Athena—he told Dagon it was all the reading he'd done in prison. Dagon actually believed him. He believed in all the superstitious nonsense spouted by scriptures and priests. Kobol, it was said, held the key to finding Earth and so he'd find it for the men and women under his command.

"Kara," Laura warned, seeing the guard's features tense.

"There will be a reckoning."

Their group stopped to make camp only when Dagon felt merciful. Little parties split off to set up tents among the trees, but they never let their rifles go out of their reach. This was something the vindictive-feeling viper pilot took special note of as she hovered by Laura's side. Her eyes glinted as she watched the marines lay down their weapons. She took a step forward, but a hand clamped down on her shoulder, gripping hard enough that Kara yelped from the sudden pain. Dagon, as if reading her ming, glared daggers at the audacious girl and yanked her away from Laura. He threatened—over her angry sputterings—to clap her in handcuffs and chain her to a tree if she didn't behave.

"She needs to be less obvious," Corporal David muttered to Laura, coming over to help pitch the tent. His hands took over tying the knots that would hold the tarp over their heads. He gave Laura a meaningful look but chuckled. "Always liked a lass with spirit. Reminds me of my daughter, Bridget. Died back on Leonis a few months before the attacks. Glad she never had to live through this."

"I'm sorry," Laura offered. He spread a ground tarp above the wet dirt for them. It would still be a miserable time, but he was kind enough to be sure there were no leaks dripping onto their makeshift floor.

Surveying his work, he spoke. "Losing a child—nothing makes it better. You see, Bridget suffered from a neurological disorder. It was hard, but it was good to see her find some happiness playing music she learned in a special program the school offered her. Programs you created," he said, giving Laura a long look. Content with the work he'd done helping set up her space, he gave her a sharp nod. "Madame President, be safe."

Alone, Laura sat on the tarp under her shelter enjoying the small privacy she'd been given. It didn't last long.

"Did you have a vision of all this?" Zarek grinned, stepping into the opening of her tent and looking down at her. She noted Meier standing outside to keep watch.

"Maybe I had a vision of you dying here on Kobol, surrounded by wet dirt and broken twigs with no one willing to even dig a grave for you," Laura said pleasantly, as if the thought gave her great pleasure. (It did.) Zarek chuckled at the thought, sitting down on the tarp next to her. He chucked again when Laura shoved away his proffered ration pack.

"Well, since you are a fraud, I'm not too worried," Zarek said, tearing the wrapping off the package and taking a bite. He grinned when he heard Laura's stomach growl and happily took another bite.

"Yet here you are on Kobol to find a map spoken about in scripture."

"Dagon believes. Besides, it united the Fleet once before. I'll just make sure we don't fall to pieces when we reach your nuked paradise."

"What a plan. I suppose you blame me for Earth?"

"I blame you for giving up," Zarek snapped. At that, Laura looked away. He had a point. It was a time she wasn't proud of. She had given up. She was trying so hard not to return to that dark place again like she had when her father and sisters had died, or when Earth failed her. It would be so easy to let her feelings overwhelm her, to let herself start drowning without wanting to swim up. Retreating to some unreachable place inside herself where Dagon and Zarek couldn't hurt her, but where she was useless to her daughters and her people. Depression, her doctor had diagnosed after her family died. She'd gone through a time so dark that she'd feared having a family to lose again.

"I was never meant to be President. Never asked for it. Never trained for it. I did my best for my people," Laura said. "But you jumped at the chance to be President, clawing and grasping for power as if it were yours by right."

"I'm a revolutionary. Also an opportunist. I saw an opportunity to help the people."

"I'm sure."

"I'd like to help you too," he said, looking at her with his intense gaze while reaching out to trail his fingers down her arm and to her hand. He gripped her hand lightly, pulled it over to him, and placed a ration pack down on her palm. "You're proud, but also ruthless and cunning. There's still a lot you can do to help your people, to help your daughter," he said, curving her fingers over the bar before letting her go.

"Everything comes at a price," she pointed out, looking down at the food.

"I'd need to keep you where I could keep an eye on you," he explained with a grin. "We were once on the same side. Those were good times, Laura."

"I'll never forgive you for helping to kill my husband and my children," she hissed.

Surging with irritation, he twisted a hand up into her hair and forced her to look at him, their faces were inches apart.

"He's gone, Laura. The man who threw you in the brig like an animal is gone!"

"Who's the animal right now?" she demanded. "You're nothing but a…" The words were lost when Zarek's mouth found hers and clamped down hard. Strong hands pushed her back flat onto the tarp and she was unable to scream. Using his body to pin her down, he moved a hand to cover her mouth when he finally broke the bruising kiss. It prevented her from calling for help while his mouth moved down her neck and nipped at her tender skin.

"He's gone, and I'm here. I'm offering you protection, but you are going to have to learn your place," Zarek whispered against her ear, biting her soft flesh between his teeth. This was how it worked. He'd seen it in gangs. He'd seen it in prison. Power had to be transferred or taken, and Roslin wasn't giving hers up willingly. She squirmed under him, trying to break away from his invasive hand and mouth. He moved over her, teeth turning to tongue as he tasted the droplets of rain still clinging to her skin. He pulled down the zipper of her overlarge jacket. He bit her exposed pale skin and saw how quickly it reddened. He smiled at how easily she bruised. He was finally going to mark her to claim her. Her tears were no longer hidden by the rain of Kobol.

It was a nightmare. Her body shook and trembled in fear. But her fear brought rage, a burning hot anger that needed to see Zarek dead. It was primitive and instinctual as she fought and struggled against him. Anger boiled up in her, fierce and strong—against Zarek, against the gods who'd abandoned her, and even against her husband, the love of her life, who hadn't come back this time.

Senses sharpened from adrenaline. They heard soldiers moving around them. Laura hoped, knowing it was probably a vain hope, that they were coming to her rescue. Instead, they were yelling at each other, and they were grabbing their rifles.

"Tom, something is going on," Meier said from outside the tent, and Zarek paused his onslaught to listen. Laura's heart thundered in her chest, and she fought to keep her breathing under control despite the hand clamped to her mouth and pressing on her nose. She gave a muffled gasp when the first gunshot cracked in the air, echoing through the trees. Then another.

"What the frak?" Zarek muttered. He gave Laura a look before letting her go.

She greedily gulped down air. Zarek moved to the entrance of the tent and looked out. Without even thinking, her instinctive reactions having completely taken over, she shoved herself under the tarp at the opposite end of the tent and ran. More gunfire erupted around her and she looked around wildly. She saw Dagon's marines taking up position with their guns facing the direction they'd been coming from. She took off in the other direction, racing up the High Road and trying to put distance between them. She had no plan and had only one thought: survive. Getting through the next moment and then the next was all that mattered. Tripping over a root and slipping in the mud, she fell down.

Frantically climbing to her feet, she found herself grabbed and whirled around to face Zarek again.

"What the hell are you thinking, Laura?!"

"Zeus cursed Kobol when the gods abandoned this planet. Nothing that happens here is done according to their will. All those people whose blood is spilled, the cost of returning to this place, their souls will be forever lost. No one who dies on Kobol will see the Elysium fields. They just fade," she said, looking him in the eye. His grip on her arm was strong, but she was able to maneuver now. She felt her fingers close around the leather of the present David had given her when he'd bent to tie down a flap of her tent. He'd slipped it into her boot when no one was looking. Without hesitation, without thinking of anything, she plunged the dagger into Zarek.

The knife sank in deeply. Zarek screamed in pain, but Laura thought of the pain he'd caused her family and what he'd been willing to do to her, so she kept a strong grip on the knife. Zarek wrenching away, but only twisted the knife with his movements, making an awful squishing sound Laura could hear over the distant gunfire. Staggering away, the knife slipped from his stomach, and Zarek made a guttural crying sound as he tried to cover the stream of blood now leaving him. He was deathly white. Laura's aim had struck true.

"The people who die here just blink out of existence, just like you will. I'm going to find a way back to the Fleet and I'm going to make sure you are completely erased. Your soul will be lost here and every memory of you will be forgotten," she snarled, glaring at him as he fell to his knees, trembling like a rabid animal as thick blood flowed over his hands. "You have nothing!"

The light drained from his eyes, and Zarek fell back against the wet ground of Kobol, dead.

She stared at her fallen enemy for a moment. In her peripheral gaze, Laura noticed the dark shadows of marines making their way toward her. Knowing many of Dagon's men were fellow Saggitarons who'd shoot her on sight for killing their hero, she turned and scrambled up the path, trying to make her way over a hill. She was tired. She was so bone tired that part of her wanted to just lie down and hide. She heard men shouting and she turned around to see who was closing in on her, but didn't see the men rushing from the other direction until she collided with them.

She tried pushing against the arms that closed around her, but she didn't have the strength to fight. She barely had the strength to keep running. Someone was holding her so tightly that her face was pressed into their neck. She realized that a soldier had taken her knife, but the person holding her was shushing her quietly and stroking her hair and shoulders with one hand. She had no more tears to cry.

A deep raspy voice ordered the marines to keep moving. Her heart stopped, and she slowly looked up to see the concerned blue eyes of her husband. Tentatively, as if waiting for him to be nothing more than a cruel illusion, she reached up and laid her non-bloodied hand against his cheek.

"Bill?" she gasped, in a desperate whisper.

"I'm here."

Carefully, Bill lowered her to the ground and sat down next to her as if feeling how her legs might give way. He clutched Laura tightly against his chest, with a sound midway between a groan and a sob. With a fearful hesitancy, he let his hand trail down and rest on her abdomen, feeling the swell still there. Unable to speak, Laura could only nod and grip her husband tightly against her. He kissed her hair and held her head against him, letting her burrow her face into his neck as she breathed him in. They sat there together in stillness.

…

Author's note: This was a pretty intense chapter. My beta says I'm a horrible little person but also said I was forgiven. So. Drop me a review and let me know what you think!