Thank you for everyone who is still reading this. Thank you for your thoughtful reviews, they have really helped me focusing better on the emotions of Bill and Laura.

Here is a little chapter for you on this Sunday.

Enjoy! :)

Chapter 35

The little girl, who had met earlier Helena by the pond, ran to her, calling "Helena!" and Helena offered her a hug. Curious people started to come to look at her. They were speaking fast in the language that Helena recognized as Laura's language. It was way too fast for her to understand everything, yet she could catch a few words here and there. Helena was mesmerized by the ethnic diversity of this group of people. She would have thought that such an isolated population would be more uniform. She was seeing all shades of skin color from very dark to very fair, and black, brown and blonde hair. It would be interesting to have the genetic tests done. Surprisingly Elosha did not let her talk to the people, she addressed them rapidly in their language and took Helena's hand to guide her towards the back of the immense cave away from the village.

"Where are we going?" She asked as they both walked to the far side of the cave, where she could already see another tunnel entrance.

"I want to show you something!" Elosha answered. They entered the far tunnel. It was darker, yet Elosha was familiar with the terrain and guided Helena along several tunnels, some of which branched. Helena thought it would be very easy to get lost in this underground labyrinth. They arrived finally to a smaller cave that was dark. Elosha bent, took a little matchbox from the pocket of her long dress and lit a lantern. The low orange light projected shadows on the rock wall, and Helena could see writing, which she immediately identified. Carved writings, other in ink, some of them barely readable, covered the entire walls of the cavern.

"Our history" Elosha said showing the walls around the cavern.

"This is incredible. I would love to have time to study and translate this!" Helena said with emotion. Elosha had already moved to the far side of the cavern. There was a crate in the back, not unlike the one that used to contain Laura's books. Helena's heart started to beat faster, knowing this crate was as old as the other artifacts they had recovered by Laura's grave. Elosha opened up the crate and waved Helena over. She bent to look inside. She almost screamed in terror. A metallic head was starting back at her. A head? Not really. Something so alien that her skin was immediately covered by goose bumps! It was metallic, not even tarnished. Instead of eyes, it had a long V shaped slit, dark and menacing. There was no body and where the neck was, there was some wires and mangled metal.

"This," Elosha said, "this is a cylon".

"Tired, functioning on only three hours of sleep, it felt familiar and reassuring to be the president again. It was an act. But that act carried me on. Ignoring the cancer crawling in my body was good practice that almost made me forget about it, when I was deeply immersed into my work. I was working on the details of the education plan that still needed to be debated by the Quorum and voted, when an alarmed Tory arrived and told me to turn on the wireless. It had been an otherwise uneventful day, made out of meetings and work. We were in the middle of the afternoon. Worried, I turned on the wireless to listen to the transmission from Galactica. Everyone in the room turned to me with the same stunned look on their face. I covered my mouth, listening to the transmission of Lee Adama screaming at Kara to turn around as she dove into the storm of the gaseous planet. He screamed and then there was silence. Just silence. I heard the Admiral command a search party and his son telling him that he saw her ship being blown out in pieces, which would have happened as she encountered denser regions of the atmosphere, yielding high pressures. Kara was gone. She was dead. I just saw her, yesterday, glowing of happiness. Now she was dead. Hard to believe she would have deliberately gone to her death and stirred her ship into the dense region of the gas giant. Something must have happened. My Gods, poor Bill! I was not the only one with tears in my eyes, as I looked around to some members of the government who were discreetly weeping. Kara was a legend, loved by many. I gave it a couple of minutes and I picked up the phone.

'Give me Bill Adama, please' I waited for the connection, while heads slowly turned towards me to listen to the conversation.

'Admiral, I am very sorry to hear about Kara Thrace. She was a true hero. You have my sincere condolences, I know she was very close to you and your family.' My voice was breaking as tears filled my eyes. I wanted to so much to be next to him and comfort him. I would have liked to say something more personal to him, but couldn't with members of the government in the room listening. I hope he understood that I was not alone in my room and that my official tone was for the benefit of the government members present around me.

'Admiral, is there anything I can do for you and your son? I may come over in a little while to present my condolences to you and your son personally.'

I heard his labored breathing on the other side of the receiver as he answered:

'Thank you very much Madame President. That won't be necessary.' I could hear the emotion in his voice and he hung up. With a heavy heart, I refocused my work on the present educational issues, working with my team. At the end of the day, I had not heard from Bill or anyone, and I got word that he had left CIC to retire in his quarters. I knew he was in pain, how could it not be the case? Kara was a daughter to him. I made my decision quickly. We were friends and friends support each other. I told Tory that I was going to Galactica. I did not let her protest and caught the first available shuttle over. I walked briskly to the corridors to find his hatch closed. I knocked and he did not reply. I told the guards accompanying me to open the hatch. They hesitated and upon seeing my look finally complied. I entered and locked the hatch behind me. The room was dark and in disarray. This is when I saw it: his beautiful model ship broken in a million pieces across the room, pieces scattered all over the floor. The lights were dimmed and I could not see Bill anywhere. Then, I heard some soft sobbing coming from behind the table and I moved to find him collapsed on the floor behind the table, crying. I kicked off my shoes and kneeled besides him.

'Bill' I whispered as I ran my hand in his disheveled hair. He smelled of alcohol.

'What' you doing here? Laura'

'I came here to help a friend.' I replied as I sat down by him on the floor and wrapped my arms around him. He leaned against me. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, as he rested against my chest. The stink of alcohol made me sick and I had to focus to let my nausea subside.

'I let her go in that bird, Laura. I knew she shouldn't go. Zack and now her.' I nodded and did not reply; there was nothing to be said. I just let him cry in my arms, as he continued to talk and I caressed his back and hair. His sobs were shaking my whole body.

'All of those, Laura, all… they died… they died because I let them. Pilots killed by cylons… on my command… And, now… you too, you have cancer… Am I going to lose all of those I love?' He looked at me with tears rolling on his cheeks. I kissed his lips lightly, moved by his confession and wiped his tears with my fingers gently.

'I'm still here' I said softly, swallowing painfully. It was my turn to soothe him and we remained sitting on the floor for a while just holding each other. I really thought that he needed to sleep, as I felt his body getting heavier against my chest. When he stopped crying, still holding me, I tried helping him up.

'Come on, Bill. You've got to sleep.' I grabbed his arm and helped him on his knees.

'Laura… I let Kara go.' I stood up bracing myself on the wall and offering him my arm for balance. We almost fell down on top of each other, as he could barely stand up and I could not carry him. Finally standing, he held me around the waist.

'Shhh… nice and slow' I whispered as I led him to the rack.

'I lost her, Laura. She should not have been flying. I shouldn't have let her… Why do you love me, Laura? I let people die…'

'Bill, you know better than that,' I replied softly, 'you go to sleep, now.'

He lay down -almost fell- heavily on the bed. I took his boots off, moved his legs on the mattress, and I removed my suit jacket. I just lay by him putting my head on his shoulder and gently rubbing his chest and his cheek. There was nothing more I could offer to him than this simple comfort. The comfort to know I was there for him and that I would listen. What a difference twenty-four hours did make! Last night, I found out my cancer was back and we were making love; tonight I was soothing his pain.

'Love you, Laura.' He murmured as he closed his eyes and fell asleep. It was a bittersweet feeling. I kissed him tenderly, a painful knot in my throat and my chest heavy. The smell of alcohol on his lips almost made me gag. I stayed next to him regardless, his head now cradled in my neck, a bit of saliva running from his partly open mouth onto my skin. I was hurting. It was a deep pain in my soul, a pit in my stomach, emptiness in my heart. I did not know, if I was hurting because I was feeling his pain, or, because his confession of love only happened after he drank a fair amount of alcohol. I knew, he probably would not even remember this conversation in the morning, as drunk as he was. Would he even remember I was there? Would he feel even ashamed of his behavior? Or not care? I never told him that a drunk driver killed my family.

When he was deeply asleep, I got up, put back my jacket on and left to go back to Colonial One. I hated the fact he drank. I wanted to run. I wanted to punch a wall. I was angry. I knew first hand of the ravages alcohol could do on minds and lives. My blouse was stinking of alcohol. The smell was clinging to my skin and making me feel nauseous. I took a shower to remove the stink of alcohol from my body. Under the water spray, I felt a familiar bump under the skin of my left breast. The reminder of my illness had a way to slap me in the face at the most distressing moment. I felt my loneliness acutely. It was the cancer and me. And, as if on cue, I felt a dull pain on the left side of my abdomen. Leaning against the tiles of the shower wall, I let myself cry until the water turned cold and I was forced to get out."

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