Colonel Tigh stepped back, breathing hard. He stared down at the thing lying at his feet. He had given up on obtaining anything else useful from the Cylon. It didn't even have the usual cryptic Cylon answers. It just kept denying everything.

Tigh had finally lost patience with the thing and ordered it to the airlock. It didn't even struggle against the guards. They threw it into the small space and closed the door.

Lee could barely stand on his own, but he closed his eyes in relief. Soon it would be over.

Adama hadn't run like that in years. His lungs were screaming for air by the time he rounded the final corner. Sharon, the one that had just arrived from Caprica, was being secured in a cell. But Lee was gone.

"Where is Captain Adama? And what is that thing doing here?"

"She says she can show us way to the Tomb of Athena on Kobol," the sergeant answered. "The President wanted her held until we can verify her claim. The other Cylon has been taken to the airlock."

Adama didn't have time to correct the marine's incorrect description of his son or question the President's orders. He took off again, trying to remember the fastest way to the nearest airlock as he ran.

As Saul was about to give the order to vent the airlock into space he heard footsteps running towards their position. The guards drew their weapons. "Saul! Don't do it!" Adama shouted.

Tigh gestured for the marines to lower their weapons. Commander Adama came to a stop in front of him. "Saul," he panted. "Baltar made a mistake. Valerii's the Cylon."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. There's another copy of her. She's Cylon for sure. I confronted Baltar and he said he thought Valerii must have somehow switched the samples."

"You mean..." Tigh trailed off as he put the pieces together.

Adama nodded. "Lee's human. He always was." He turned to the airlock in horror. "Gods, get him out of there!"

The marine nearest the hatch quickly opened the door. Bill reached in and pulled his son to safety.

"Lee! Lee? Are you all right?" Lee looked at his father in shock, not able to comprehend this latest twist in his fate. His legs gave out beneath him and he collapsed to the deck. Bill caught him as he fell. "Get some medics down here, RFN!"

Waiting for the medics, Bill had a chance to really look at his son. His son, this was his son. Dear gods, what had he done? Lee's face was a mass of cuts and bruises and Bill was sure the rest of him didn't look much better. "Get these cuffs off," he ordered and again a marine moved quickly to obey. Bill threw them across the corridor. "Lee? Can you hear me, son?"

Lee was only barely conscious but he was aware that he wasn't dead after all. When he realized he was lying on the floor with his father's arms supporting him, he tried to push away. His father had denied him, believed him a Cylon. "Get...away..." he gasped.

"Lee..." Adama realized why his son was doing it, but it still hurt. "Son..." he began.

"DON'T...call me...that," he snarled. "Don't touch me!"

Bill was unsure how to respond. He didn't want to upset Lee now, but he didn't want to let him go either. He was saved from making a decision by the arrival of a med team. They pushed Bill aside and lifted Lee onto a stretcher.

"How was he injured?" one of them asked.

Tigh and Adama looked at each other and then back at the medics. Lee answered for them. "They think...I'm a Cylon," he slurred, "so they beat the crap outta me."

"He's not a Cylon," Adama interjected quickly. "It was a…misunderstanding. A terrible mistake."

The medic nodded and the team headed off to sick bay with their patient.

Tigh looked uncomfortably at his CO and best friend. "Bill..."

"It's not your fault, Saul. We were all fooled. I should have known better, though."

"How? How were you to know that that idiot Baltar had screwed up to that degree? How do you say with such certainly that someone's a machine when they really aren't?"

"I'd like to twist his head off with my bare hands," Adama confessed. "But right now, I need to be in sick bay."

Cottle was waiting when Lee Adama was brought in. He'd heard the "Lee is a Cylon" rumors and wondered if it was all some kind of ruse. He didn't trust Baltar as far as he could throw him, even if he was the Vice President. Unfortunately, it seemed no one else had thought to doubt the good doctor's word Cottle thought to himself, looking at the captain's injuries. He quickly listened to his patient's heart and lungs, frowning at the coarse breath sounds he heard, then palpated his abdomen. Lee winced and tried weakly to escape the doctor's probing hands. "Easy son," he soothed uncharacteristically. "Can you tell me where it hurts?" he asked, although he thought perhaps 'where doesn't it hurt' would be a more appropriate question.

Lee couldn't quite manage that much conversation, so he pointed to the left side of his face, his chest and his right side.

Cottle gently probed one of the worse-looking lacerations on his cheek and Lee flinched. "Okay, looks like that's broken," he mumbled, almost to himself. He then examined the lacerations on both wrists. The right arm appeared uninjured aside from the cuts and bruises on the wrist, but the left was swollen midway between the wrist and elbow. "Probable fractures of the radius and ulna," he muttered again, cataloging the captain's injuries. A nurse dutifully noted it on the chart. "Any pain here?" he asked as he felt along the length of both legs.

Lee started to shake his head, then thought better of it "No," he whispered.

Cottle nodded at Lee's response the addressed his staff. "Okay people, I need x-rays of his head, chest, abdomen, pelvis and left arm. Put him on O2 at 4 liters, start IV fluids at twice maintenance, and give him 8mg of Morpha. Then I want scans of his head, chest and abdomen."

Lee didn't have the strength or the will to struggle. He wasn't sure if he was still a prisoner, if this was some new attempt to get information or if they were really helping him. He barely noticed the oxygen cannula being placed on his face, the IV started in his right arm, or the minor repositioning required for the x-rays. Soon the pain faded, although it wasn't gone completely. What was left of the pain seemed distant. He sighed softly, closed his eyes, and gave in to his exhaustion, escaping his physical and mental distress in a drug-induced oblivion.

Commander Adama placed back and forth, waiting for news of his son. They had taken him for x-rays and scans. Just when he was about ready to demand that he be taken to his son regardless, the doctor emerged from behind a curtain.

"How is he?" Bill asked, before Cottle even had a chance to speak.

"Sit down, Commander."

"I don't want to sit down, I want to see my son. How badly is he hurt?"

The doctor could see there was no placating the worried father so he got right to the point. "He's pretty banged up but nothing life-threatening. He's got some broken ribs, plus his left arm and his left cheek bone are broken. He's also got a mild concussion. Most serious is a laceration of his liver."

"A what?"

"A tear," Cottle clarified. "He's bleeding internally."

Adama paled.

Cottle held up a hand. "It's not as bad as it sounds. It should stop on its own within the next twenty four hours. If it doesn't, I may have to operate but for now we'll just observe him, monitor his blood counts and see how he does."

Bill tried to absorb this information. "You're just going to let him keep bleeding? Why don't you operate now? I don't understand."

"Calm down, Commander. We'll be monitoring him closely. These things usually resolve on their own. I could do more harm than good by operating now. As I said, it's not life-threatening, as long it's carefully watched. I won't hesitate to operate if his condition changes."

Bill took a deep breath and tried to understand what he was being told. Lee was bleeding but he didn't need surgery. Yet.

"It takes a lot of force to tear the liver. He was hit pretty hard."

Bill scowled. He knew all that. He didn't want to think about it.

"I'm actually more concerned about his pulmonary status."

"His what?" Bill was too upset to translate from medical to Colonial standard.

"His lungs. He apparently breathed in a fair amount of water. I've started him on antibiotics but he could still develop pneumonia. We'll just have to wait and see."

Bill felt sick to his stomach imagining Lee struggling to breathe while being held under water.

Neither man spoke for a moment.

"Is that everything?" Bill finally asked, fearful of the answer.

"It's enough, don't you think?"

Adama nodded mutely.

"I want to see him," Adama stated. It wasn't a request.

"I had a feeling you would. You can see him for a few minutes, and then I've got to set his arm and suture the deeper lacerations."

Adama pressed his lips into a thin line, not wanting to contemplate his son suffering even more pain. He wordlessly followed the doctor to his son's bedside.

Lee was almost unrecognizable, his face bruised and swollen. His left eye was swollen shut. His left arm was in a temporary splint and both wrists were bandaged. He automatically reached for his son's hand then stopped himself. He didn't want to do anything that would hurt Lee.

Lee managed to open his right eye, aware that someone had entered the room. He tried to focus with some difficulty. He at last recognized the form of his father. He looked up and grabbed his father's arm. "I'm not a Cylon," he said plaintively.

Guilt pressed down on the worried father like a blanket of wet sand. He carefully covered Lee's hand with his own. "I know, son."

"I'm not a Cylon," Lee repeated. "I'm not...not a Cylon." His words slurred just a bit.

Bill felt desperate to reassure him. "Lee, you were right about Sharon. She switched your blood samples to make it look as if..."

Cottle interrupted. "Commander, don't bother telling him anything you're going to expect him to remember later." Seeing Bill's questioning look he added, "I think he's got a pretty good buzz right about now."

"Buzz," Lee repeated, fascinated with the feeling he got when enunciating the "z". "Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz."

Bill grinned, understanding.

"I. Am not. A Cylon."

Bill's smile faded. "I know that." He was frustrated at Lee's fixation on defending himself.

"I am me. I am Lee." he said very seriously, then suddenly acted as if he had made a startling discovery. "Hey, that rhymes! Me Lee. Lee me."

"Go to sleep, Captain," Cottle ordered.

"But I'm not sleepy!" Lee protested.

Cottle produced another syringe.

"Hasn't he had enough? Bill questioned in concern.

"Oh, he's had enough Morpha, for sure," Cottle answered. "This is a short-acting anesthetic. No need for him to be awake while I set the bones and stitch him up."

Bill nodded, grateful that Lee wouldn't experience any more pain after all.

"It's time for you to go Bill. You can see him later."

Bill carefully removed Lee's hand from his arm. "The doc's going to fix you up now, son. I'll be right outside."

Lee looked at his father as if just seeing him for the first time. Then he turned towards Cottle and said conspiratorially, "He thinks I'm a Cylon. But I'm really not."

Cottle's response to this was to push the medication into Lee's IV tubing.

Then Lee's world became all fuzzy and he floated away into nothingness.