Adama was running. He didn't remember where he was going or how long he'd been running. He was out of breath, gasping for air. He had to keep going. He finally remembered why. Lee. He had to find Lee. He had to save Lee. His son was in mortal danger because he made the wrong decision. They were going to put Lee out the airlock, on HIS orders. He had to get there in time, he had to stop them. He kept running.

As he ran through the corridors, he faced one challenge after another. A passage was blocked with debris not yet cleaned up from when the Cylons had boarded the ship. He had to backtrack and go around. "Hang on, son, I'm coming!" He ran faster. He climbed stairs, worked to open blocked hatchways, and he ran. "Lee! Lee!" he called, knowing he was still too far away. He knew Galactica was big, but surely he should have gotten there by now. He paused to catch his breath, propping one hand up against the bulkhead. Cursing his weakness, he began to run again. He couldn't remember his way; all the corridors started to look the same. How could he not know his own ship? He came to an intersection and wasn't sure which way to go. He had to make a decision. The wrong one would cost his son his life. Panting, he looked down one corridor then the other, and finally took off down one of them. It had to be the right one. He had to get there, he had to get there in time. He couldn't lose another child, his only living child, his firstborn.

Finally, nearing exhaustion, he approached the airlock. He pushed himself to run even faster. "LEE!" he shouted. He came to the airlock. There were no guards, no Tigh, no Lee. Just a janitor with a broom. The man didn't even notice the Commander of the Fleet. He was in his own little world as he pushed his broom and whistled an old folk tune. Adama grabbed the man's shoulders and shook him out of his revelry. "Where's my son? Where's Lee?"

The man looked confused. "Sorry, Sir. I haven't seen your son. All I know is they put some Cylon out this airlock a while ago and wanted the area cleaned." Having answered the question, the man returned to his sweeping.

Adama looked around in horror. There was no trace of Lee, there was no trace of anyone. Dear gods, he was too late! "LEE!" he screamed in despair. His voice echoed through the empty corridor. The janitor was gone. He was alone there. "Lee, Lee, oh gods, Lee..." he sank to his knees weeping. A cold wind blew inexplicably through the corridor. This couldn't be happening, Lee couldn't be dead. Please no. He looked up again, hoping to see something different, but it was still the same. He saw the airlock, the door to the corridor securely locked and the outer door vented to space. He went to the door and tried to open it, but the pressure difference made that impossible. "LEE!" he shouted, as if he could call his son back from the icy blackness of space. "LEE!"

Bill startled awake and looked about his darkened quarters, for a moment not recognizing his surroundings. He realized it was just a dream but it still felt so real. He couldn't shake the feeling of despair he'd experienced, thinking his son was dead. He lay there in the darkness, trying to think of something else, but he could not.

Unbidden, the memories from the past few days flooded his mind. How he'd completely disregarded Lee's concerns about Sharon Valerii, going so far as to make disparaging remarks to Lee about sharing them. Why couldn't he have listened, at least considered that it was a possibility. He knew why. He'd been so damn proud of Boomer for destroying the basestar and so angry with Lee. You're not my son. You're one of them, he'd told his son, right to his face that day in the lab. He winced as he remembered the cold hard edge to his voice. No wonder Lee was bitter. He remembered how insulted he had felt when the President had questioned his humanity. However, no one had taken that seriously. Well, maybe she had, but he'd joked with her about it. If I'm a Cylon, you're really screwed, he'd told her. He remembered Lee's shouts as he was hauled away from the lab. At the time, he had disregarded them, believing they came from an enemy agent. Now he realized his son had cried out to him for help and he had ignored it. Logically, he knew he did the only thing he could have under the circumstances, but now he wondered why he didn't insist on more evidence before he ordered Lee interrogated and executed. Again he thought about how helpless Lee must have felt, being thrown into that airlock. He shook his head. This wasn't getting him anywhere. He couldn't change what had happened. But he felt an overwhelming desire to see his son, to touch him, to reassure himself that his dream was not reality. He knew Lee must be sleeping; he just wanted to see him. He wouldn't wake him. Having determined he would indulge his paternal need, he threw on some tanks and headed to sick bay.

As expected, it was dark and quiet there. He hoped the personnel on duty were busy elsewhere. He planned to quietly approach Lee's bedside, spend a moment there and then slip away, with no one the wiser. He knew Lee wouldn't welcome his presence and neither would the staff. He carefully pulled back the curtains. Lee was tossing and turning fitfully. Adama remembered the doctor saying Lee was having nightmares. Guess that makes two of us, he thought sardonically. He hadn't planned to wake his son, but he couldn't let Lee remain trapped in his dreams, nor did he want Lee to wake alone and afraid. He decided he would risk his son's anger on the chance that he could offer him solace. He shook Lee's arm and called his name quietly, then a bit louder when Lee failed to awaken.

Lee's nightmare was one he'd had before. It began with him in the brig being beaten into unconsciousness, and then he woke in sick bay and found himself under the care of Doctor Tigh.

He struggled to free himself from his restraints before Tigh could stab him with the needle. This time he managed to get one hand loose. Working furiously, he ripped off the other restraints. Hands grabbed at one of his arms. He jerked it free, pushed the person away, and jumped off the table, poised to flee.

Adama was shocked when Lee wrenched out of his grip and practically leaped out of the bed. He lost his balance when Lee pushed against him and stepped back, knocking over a nearby metal tray. The noise didn't awaken Lee but alerted the staff that something was amiss.

Layne Ishay and Howard Kim were restocking supplies when they heard a clatter. They hurried to investigate what had happened. They were taken aback to find Commander Adama standing near an overturned bedside tray and Captain Adama out of bed.

Lee was half-asleep and was still living in his dream experience. When the medics took his arms in an attempt to help him back onto the bed, he believed them to be Tigh's marines, there to restrain him again. He struggled to free himself.

"I've got him, go get a tranquilizer," Kim told Ishay. "Captain! Calm down," he tried to get through to the frightened man in his grip.

"NO!" Lee shouted. "I'm not a Cylon! Dad! DAD! I'm not a Cylon!"

Bill was horrified. He wasn't sure if Lee was actually speaking to him or a dream image. He quickly stepped over to his son's side. "Lee. It's okay," he forced himself to speak calmly in an attempt to quell his son's fear. "You're not a Cylon. You're safe."

Lee still wasn't fully awake and his dream was mixing with reality. Had his father come to help Tigh with the interrogation? He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. This action woke him enough that he looked around, confused. Lee stopped fighting and blinked a few times, breathing rapidly.

"He's awake now. Let him go." Bill instructed, but Kim wasn't taking orders from a visitor, despite him being the commander. He couldn't risk the patient's safety.

Lee remembered his dream this time. He was quite relieved to be awake but realized he'd been shouting out loud and felt pretty embarrassed about it. "I...ah...I'm okay," he tried to convince himself as well as the medic.

Kim still wasn't certain, but he loosened his grip tentatively as Ishay returned with a syringe.

Lee quickly took stock of the situation. He knew that if he made one wrong move now, he'd be held down and given that medication and he was quite sure he would lose it completely if they did that. It would be too much like his nightmare. He forced himself to stay completely still. He spoke again, this time sounding much more confident that he felt. "I'm okay. I'm sorry I bothered you. I guess I was...dreaming."

Seeing as the Captain sounded rational, the medic released his hold, but continued to keep a hand on him to assist him back into bed. He and Ishay exchanged a knowing glance.

"Lee," Bill reached for his son, also wanting to help.

Lee recoiled from him. "Leave me alone!"

"Calm down, Captain. No one's going to hurt you," Ishay soothed, reaching back into her pocket where she'd stashed the medication.

"Sir, you need to leave. Visiting hours were over long ago," Kim spoke calmly but firmly.

"I'm not leaving my son," Adama insisted.

"Oh, I'm your son now?" Lee sneered. "Because Sharon said so? Sharon the Cylon? You'll listen to Sharon the Cylon!"

"Sir. Go. Now." Kim said, tightening his grip on Lee's shoulders.

"Please, Commander. You're just making it worse. Let us take care of him," Ishay added.

Reluctantly, Bill backed away, but he couldn't bear to leave just yet. He left Lee's bedside, but remained in sick bay, out of sight but close enough to hear what was happening with Lee.

Lee's gaze was fixed on his father's retreating form as the medics helped him lie back down on the bed. He was still breathing fast. Ishay uncapped the syringe and pulled Lee's arm towards her.

"No!" Lee pulled away.

"Captain, it's all right. It won't hurt. I'm going to put it in your IV."

Lee shook his head, that wasn't the reason for his objection. "No, I...I don't need that. I'm okay." He looked up at her earnestly.

"Your pulse and respiratory rate tell a different story, Captain," Kim responded. "This will just help you relax."

"Cottle won't let me out of here tomorrow if you give me that," Lee confessed the true reason for his aversion to the medicine. Besides that it reminded him of his dream. He wouldn't be sharing that little detail, though.

This seemed to satisfy both the medics; some sedatives did require twenty-four hour monitoring afterwards due to residual effects. If Lee was coherent enough to think of that, he was lucid enough to be reasoned with rather than restrained. However, he remained agitated so they still thought he could use a little chemical help.

"It won't affect your discharge," Ishay explained. "It's only a mild tranquilizer. It will just help you to calm down. It should keep you from dreaming as well."

That last part caught Lee's attention. Okay, that didn't sound like a bad idea. "You're sure the doctor won't think I need more...observation or something?"

"If the doctor wanted to observe everyone who had nightmares, we'd have to convert this whole battlestar into a hospital ship," Kim replied, only half joking.

Lee took some deep breaths. He was pretty sure he could calm down without any "help" but the idea of sleeping without nightmares was tempting. He extended his arm towards Ishay. "Okay," he whispered.

Bill was surprised at how easily his son had been talked into something he was totally opposed to a few minutes earlier. Why can't I do that? He wondered.

Layne pushed the medication in slowly so it wouldn't sting. Lee expected to feel the fuzzy numbness that accompanied morpha injections. That was another reason he hadn't wanted it. But he didn't experience that. He just felt…calm. He wasn't upset any more about his dream, or Tigh, or even his father. Nothing seemed very important. Nothing at all.

"Better?" Layne asked, watching the tension fade away from the Captain's features as his breathing slowed.

"Yeah," Lee said quietly. "Thanks." Lee licked his lips a bit self-consciously. "I...um...don't usually...um..."

"Don't think anything of it. It happens all the time. People are injured and in pain, they relieve it in their dreams, then wake up in unfamiliar surroundings and become disoriented. We're used to it."

She said it so matter-of-factly that Lee believed her without doubt. Thank the gods they don't think I'm a nut case. He closed his eyes and settled down, relishing the feeling of tranquility he now enjoyed.

Ishay turned to pick up the fallen tray and muttered to herself, "What in the worlds was the commander doing down here at this hour?"

"Guilt."

She rose up abruptly. She had believed the captain to be sleeping. He opened his eyes at her movement. He knew it was a rhetorical question, but he hadn't been able to help himself. Seeing her questioning look, he elaborated, speaking more slowly and loudly than normal. "He screwed up. Now he feels guilty. Well, he's just going have to live with it. That's what he told me once, you know. 'A man takes responsibility for his actions, right or wrong. He accepts the consequences and lives with them. Every day.' That's what he said. Let's see if that's what he meant." A small part of Lee marveled that he was talking so impassively about something he didn't even realize he was consciously aware of. However, the remainder of his brain seemed to believe Ishay was his new best friend and he drawled on as if he were sitting in a bar before the holocaust, discussing sports or the weather.

Bill froze. He vaguely remembered saying that to Lee but didn't remember when. He was shocked that his son would quote him; he had no idea his son found so much significance in his words.

"I still have nightmares about that too." Lee confided. "I can see their faces at the window as I blow them out of the sky." His voice trailed away as he drifted off.

The Olympic Carrier. He had all but forgotten and Lee still dreamed about it? He had no idea. Why hadn't Lee told him? Gods isn't that obvious? Lee had tried to talk to him about it back then and he'd told his son to get over it. Well, not in so many words, but that was the message. Don't bother taking your problems to the old man; he's no help. That's what Lee had gotten out of that conversation. Maybe what he had perceived as their newfound closeness was all just his wishful thinking. He wondered what else he'd said to Lee that his son had found worthy of memory.

He waited until he was sure the medics were gone and he stepped out of the shadows and peered though a small opening in the curtains surrounding Lee's bed.

Lee was sleeping peacefully; the lines of stress were gone from his face. Bill was reminded of his son as a young child. He remembered watching his boys sleep and thinking they looked almost like cherubs, so innocent...although they certainly didn't act that way when they were awake. His memories turned to noise and dirt. Then he remembered why he'd come here; he'd wanted to reassure himself that his son was alive so he could forget his dream and get some sleep. He'd been quite successful with the former objective, but had a feeling he was going to fail miserably with the latter. Stepping away from the gap in the curtains, the commander dejectedly headed back to his quarters to try and live up to those words he'd said to his son.