Thank you for all of those who are still there and all of those who have messaged me. I have not stopped writing and I will not drop this story. So no worries. I am just very busy with the start of the semester and various issues in real life.
Writing cancer from Laura's point of view is very difficult emotionally, yet it is also very rewarding as it allows me to understand her better. You do know the story and thus, there will be some difficult moments ahead.
Chapter 43
Helena woke up very early the next morning. Takashi was snoring softly next to her. She studied him. His face was peaceful, slight wrinkles were already showing on his face. He was only one year older than her. His black hair was graying at his temples. Did she love him? She didn't know. She avoided that question. It was too complicated. Certainly in the current circumstances, a relationship could happen, yet, when this would be over, once they would return to their academic positions, then she was not sure it would continue. But would they ever return to their academic positions? She longed for the comfort, both physical and psychological, to be with someone. She longed to be held, kissed and she longed to make love. She longed for the company and the exchange of ideas, for the moment where no words needed to be exchanged for their mutual understanding. He had shared some of his feelings with her and she knew he would wait until she was ready. She sighed and got up. She was feeling tired; her back was hurting. They really had no time to relax, as surprising discoveries kept on coming, and the team of scientists spent every moment studying, cataloguing and performing analyses. The hike through the tunnels of the day before had exhausted her. She started coughing. Her throat was bothering her, a nagging little itch, which begged to be coughed away. She moved in the house in search of water to drink, trying to prevent herself from coughing anymore and make noise that would wake Takashi. She barely had time to look in the house the night before, but now she wanted to explore it a bit more. It was carved in the rock face, with blind rooms extending in the back, where their bedroom was. The front had an open door way, without door, and round gaps which served as windows towards the inside of the cave. As she looked through the opening, she saw that most of the houses were built that way, facing the center of the large and tall cave, where light was filtering from cracks in the cave ceiling. The Caprica village had the same infrastructure, houses facing the center of the cave, where there was an underground pond surrounded by tall grasses, which grew only from the sunlight filtering above. Gemenon was just a bit smaller. Helena had visited many troglodyte houses during her archeological trips in the Middle East, the most famous ones were in Turkey, and she also had traveled to Pakistan and Iran. They all had the same characteristic, which was to open outside on the face of a mountain, where light entered. Here, the houses opened towards the inside of a main large cave. Absolutely nothing would show on the outside of the mountain. It was the perfect hiding place. She suspected that the forest was completely concealing any outside entrance. The main room had wooden chairs and a table and some blankets and pillows. There were alcoves in the wall for oil lamps and larger niches for storage. She saw nicely folded blankets, and various pieces of clothing in bright colors of red and orange. Dried and hollowed gourds were handing on nails, presumably for water storage. Various pottery and clay bowls were stored on shelves and alcoves. She was expecting a hearth or some kind of fireplace, but there was none. And of course, she realized that there could not be any chimney in such a setting. She was walking barefoot on a thick hand-knotted rug made of natural plant fibers. The house was comfortable and radiated warmth and coziness. In the main room, she found food, which was clearly left there for them. A clay pitcher contained water. The cool water immediately helped her throat and refreshed her. There was a sort of bread, flat and golden, which tasted delicious and some fruits. She felt better after drinking and eating.
"How are you?" She turned to see Takashi joining her. He softly kissed her cheek and sat by her.
"I'm good. Look, they left us some breakfast." She said smiling, showing the table to him.
He took some bread and ate in silence.
"Helena… I'm sorry about last night… I…"
Helena put her hand on his.
"It's ok, Takashi. It is good that we talked."
He nodded and took her hand in his. They looked at each other for a moment. They were interrupted by Elosha, which arrived with more fruits.
"Good morning," she said cheerily, " villages' delegations are starting to arrive for the preparation of our quorum meeting." Both Helena and Takashi stood together and went back to the bedroom to change into day clothes.
When they came out of the house, John was waiting for them near the center of the cave by the wood fire burning, where everyone had gathered. Groups of people, carrying flags, Helena had never seen, were waiting and chatting. When they saw Helena, all became quiet observing her. Helena counted twelve groups including Elosha. Most were women from various ethnicities, some were tall with blonde hair, others looked Asian, and all of them had various shades of skin from very light to very dark. Helena was looking forward to sample and enter their DNA in Evelyne's database. She knew it could hold the answer to understanding if cylons were part of this lineage. She suspected they were. Following Elosha, they moved in rows to the back of the cave and sat in a circle around a large and flat circular rock formation. The flagpoles were set up straight behind each delegation in holes, Helena had not noticed before on the ground. It created a spectacular effect, a colorful display of the flags in a perfect circle. Helena, John and Takashi sat by the Caprica flag. Elosha stood tall on the rock at the circle's center. A young woman brought some tall pillar candles, which Elosha lit at the center of the rock.
"Lords of Kobol, hear my prayers…" she started in their language, which Helena translated for Takashi and John. One by one, each woman from the delegations got up and lit a smaller candle she was carrying and returned to her seat placing the candle in front of her on a small flat rock marking the periphery of the circle. Helena noticed they all were wearing a silver bracelet on their left wrist, with designs slightly different than the one Elosha and Laura wore. When Caprica's turn arrived, someone placed a candle in Helena's hand and motioned her to get up. She did go to light it. Then, a large round bread was passed from each delegation to the other and each member broke a small piece to eat it. It was followed by an ornate brass pot, and each person drank water from it. Helena, Takashi and John took a piece of the bread and drank the water, as it was passed to them.
Elosha continued speaking and Helena caught her name several times as well as Laura's name. She observed how each delegate looked at her. Helena heard Elosha mention the book of Laura and delegates reacted in surprise, and started talking all at once. Rya from Gemenon, which had learned about the book and the grave the night before, was very active, animatedly speaking to the others.
"What happened?" Takashi whispered in her ear.
"Elosha just mentioned that I have the book of Laura and that we have found her remains."
Elosha answered many questions patiently in a measured tone, as if to calm the delegates. She came finally and asked Helena to join her with her bag.
"Please, could you pass around the pictures of the book that you have showed me?" she asked and Helena passed her folder from delegate to delegate. Some became very emotional when they looked at the photographs of the pages. Rya was crying. Everyone wanted to talk with Helena, but she had trouble understanding each delegate, as they had accents she was not accustomed to hear. She relied on Elosha for the translation. They all wanted to read the book, asked for details and carried a lot of excitement. Helena tried her best to answer questions. She avoided going into the details of the text, especially when it came to the human appearance of cylons. It was all very overwhelming and all she could see were faces talking, and questions coming from everyone. Their talking was loud; the smell of the candles and the smoke was making her suddenly dizzy. The flags seemed to be dancing around her, in their red and orange and white colors. Was someone beating a fast drum? Or was she hearing her own blood rushing in her ears? The ceiling of the cave extended so high, multicolored light seemed to be beaming down on her from a fissure in the rock. Faces were so close to her, talking louder and louder. She looked up trying to breathe and broke down into a cough. She was loosing her strength, and each of her limbs seemed to be made of lead, so heavy. She felt Takashi's strong arms enveloping her, as she collapsed, and saw his worried face above hers.
"Helena, Helena..." He called; his voice seemed so far away. She looked into his eyes and passed out.
"I do not know when he left, but Bill was not there when I woke up. Just like the previous day, he had not left a note for me. I had to go back to Colonial One later in the morning, and so I packed up my work and clothes. Before I left, I had to attend the farewell ceremony of Lee. As I understood it, it was supposed to be a surprise and we all assembled in hangar bay to present recognition to Lee Adama for his service. All of the pilots assembled and honored him. I was very presidential. I shook his hand and smiled. I could tell that he was emotional as he hugged his father and his friends. I sincerely hoped that both father and son would be able to reconcile and overcome their differences. For me, it would take some time. He had hurt me deeply and quiet civility is all I could handle at the present moment. Nothing more! I had no intent to engage with him further. As soon as he started to talk with his father and the other officers, I left with Tory to take my shuttle back to Colonial One.
My first task on board was to ask Tory to find a wig for me and pass a request to all ships for one. I had found more hair falling and getting caught in my hairbrush, such that I barely dared to run it through my hair anymore. It would be only a matter of time before I would lose it completely or would have to shave. I knew it was over, my hair, my life and the comfort of my body. It just was over. And in the morning back on Colonial One, sitting at my desk, I made the decision to just accept my fate. This is it, I said to myself, determined to move forward. I had to let it go. If anything, the past few days with their loads of emotions had taught me that much. There was too much pain associated with clinging to the past, my hair, my life and the hopes of a normal life with a man who loved me just enough to say it while drunk, but not enough to stop drinking in the face of adversity."
"A bit later on the day, I was informed that the Demetrius, one of the fleet ships, had left to an unknown destination. I picked up the phone.
'Admiral, what is going on with the Demetrius? Has something happened?'
He hesitated before replying. A pause! I knew, then.
'I gave the ship to Kara with a small crew so she can go back and look for Earth the way she wants to'
'I see!' My reply was sharp, slicing like a knife.
'Madame President, when she told me that she would die trying, I have to believe her. We are not changing course. I believe you are right following the markers that the Eye of Jupiter pointed to. Kara would not stop trying. I have to give her the chance to follow her impulse. I cannot lose her again.'
'Well, I certainly hope you are right, Admiral Adama, and that your crew will come back alive.'
I was ice cold. I hung up the phone. I had no idea how we would spin this with the government and the press, which would smell a conspiracy. Bill was following his heart with Kara. He could not bear losing her and just admitted to me that my assessment of his feelings was right. At least, by sending her on her way, he was temporarily removing this danger from the Galactica and the fleet. I just hated that he would put in danger a crew, just because he trusted her. How would he feel if she betrayed all of us? We had disagreed deeply on this. Bill was following his emotions and not logic. This was one of the reasons why we should not have a relationship. He was the Admiral; I was the President. There was no escaping of this and we were bound to have deep disagreements on policy and decisions to be made. We were both too involved in the survival of this fleet. This is not something we could just leave at the door of his quarters. I could not stay there anymore. I picked up the phone and requested some guest quarters on the Galactica. It had become too painful to stay with him. It was tearing me apart. I needed to face this alone. I could not depend on him. I could not have expectations that would not be met. Lt. Dualla told me it would take a few days to find some accommodations for me, but she was on this task and I was confident she would be very efficient. Without emotions, I went back to my workload and prepared for meetings that would take place in the next few days."
"I had not heard from Bill in a few days, when I made my way to sickbay for another treatment. He was not there to greet me at my shuttle. I guess he had heard I requested my own quarters by then. I still had no news if Dualla had found a place to put me. Dr. Cottle gave me an antiemetic and put the IV in.
'The nausea should go away in about a hour." As soon as the Doloxan started to run in my veins, the metallic taste came back in my mouth and almost immediately my stomach painfully contracted, bringing this wave of nausea to my throat. I removed my glasses and laid back on the pillows, not moving for fear that any motion of my body would make me vomit. I started to breathe slowly, exhaling through my lips to dispel the dizziness that invaded me, closing my eyes and trying to relax. Then I heard him, heavily walking and sitting down on the chair next to me. He started to read, his warm voice soothing me, as it always did.
'Love and Bullets,
by Nick Taylo.
Chapter one.
It started like it always did. With a body.
This one was in the river. I could tell she had once been beautiful. But this bullet and a fast current had taken that away from her.'
His low and slow voice brought shivers to me. It was like a gentle caress. It was like an apology. I could not prevent myself from being overwhelmed with emotion, as goose bumps rose on my arms. His voice soft and warm reminded me of the tenderness in which he had murmured gentle words to me in our most intimate moments, the few times we made love. Tears were burning under my eyelids, as emotion was settling, tight, in my throat. He was here, still here and again giving me the simplest comfort. He chose the book carefully. A crime novel, like those, I confessed to him I used to read, back when I had a real home and when we could breathe real air, feel the breeze on our skin and sun in our hair.
'All we are, all that we think we are, all that we're certain about is taken away from us. When you've worked the streets and seen what I've seen, you become more and more convinced of it everyday.'
Yes, Bill, all was taken away from us. I was holding to his life and I was holding to his voice like an anchor. And my nausea was still there and tears were pooling in my eyes. They were tears of pain and tears of joy.
'Caprica City had been my teacher. My Mistress. From the moment I open my eyes, she's in my blood, like cheap wine, bitter and sweet, tinged with regret.
I'll never be afraid of her. Nor do I want to be. For she is what I am, all that is and should always be.'
He had lifted his head to look at me with this last sentence and I knew he meant it for me, and gave it to me, as a present and a declaration. A strangled sob escaped from my throat as tears rolled on my temple, but I smiled anyway. I had missed him. I smiled to tell him how much I appreciated his presence. I was still angry with him for many reasons and I had missed him dearly. He stopped reading and bent forward to kiss my tears tenderly on my temple. Gods, why was our relationship so complicated? Then, he sat back down and continued reading. A couple of hours were a lot shorter with his voice accompanying me. I relaxed, listening to the slow rhythm of the words, like a lullaby. It was intimate like a caress. When the infusion was over, he had read several chapters.
'We'll finish next time' he said gently. Dr. Cottle switched the bag to a saline bag to keep me hydrated. A few minutes later, disconnected from the IV, Bill was helping me up from the bed.
'Thank you' I whispered. I gave him a light kiss on the lips.
'Are you going back?'
'Yes, I have to be on Colonial One. I have to prepare for a big day tomorrow. Lee will be introduced to the quorum as a Caprica representative. They will vote. There will be a press conference. And then over the next few days, we will have full quorum sessions and arrive to a vote on a number of initiatives.'
'I'll be there for the press conference' he added.
I nodded and we walked in silence back to my shuttle, his hand securely holding me on my lower back."
"I don't know if it was his presence or the relaxing rhythm of his voice, but I felt a lot less sick with this treatment. Back to my little bedroom, I allowed myself to sleep for a few hours before diving into my work, ahead of the heavy agenda of the next day. Despite his soothing presence, I still thought it would be better for both of us not to live together when I visited the Galactica."
"The next day went by like a tornado. First at the press conference, Lee made a wonderful completely political acceptance speech, at the summit of his hypocrisy. The speech of a real politician! He had a gift for it. I would have been almost proud of him, if he had not betrayed me. After Lee's acceptance speech, the press went and asked me if I was having hard feelings about the role that Lee had during Baltar's trial.
I replied as amicably as possible:
'Mr. Adama took on a cause he felt was important and I fully trust he will continue to bring. I dismissed the question saying that I was sure that Lee would continue to bring the same passion and clear-mindedness in representing his constituents.'
It was a political answer that meant nothing and nobody fell for it. Immediately after they focused on the Demetrius. Just like I predicted, they had smelled a conspiracy and as we did not give them any details, attacked me like sharks, which had smelled blood. My frustration at Bill returned, as he did not give any details to the press and, well, they kept on going. There is nothing more attractive to a journalist than a nice story, which is being covered up. I predicted they would soon be back on this, asking more questions, as the rumor that Kara had been put in charge spread. As Bill and I retired to my office, I told him I would be covering for him on the Demetrius for a long time. I was not pleased. He knew it. I had not hidden from him how upset I was at his decision with Kara. Clearly, this is something that would continue to haunt us for a while. I went back to work without casting Bill a look, as I heard him leave. After he left, I let out a deep sigh. This was going to be tough."
"The evening came and I felt more alone than ever. I was nauseous and I took some of the pills that Cottle gave me. They worked enough to prevent me from vomiting; yet, I still was feeling sick and dizzy. I also was continuing to suffer from the lack of estrogen. Hot spells, where my body was burning and I immediately had to shed my nightclothes to cool off, only to find myself freezing minutes later. I tried to read but could not focus on the book. So I lay there looking at the ceiling and thinking. I was dying and I was pathetic. That much was certain. I did not dare to brush my hair, just fluffing it up with my fingers, as I found more and more strands on my pillow each morning. I knew the illness and my fatigue contributed to my state of mind. I was deeply sad. I wanted to let myself slide in the comfort of self-pity. To cry. To sob. To call the universe out on its perverse actions. I had been in remission just to experience the briefest moments of happiness, enough to let myself dream of love and a quiet retirement in a cabin by a lake. And then, the cylons came back. And then the cancer came back. And then Baltar got tossed back at us and we had the trial. And then Kara reappeared. Enough to bring us down to our knees. Enough to draw us apart, Bill and I. If I had any hope or dream of a simple life, those were certainly gone. Tomorrow, after a night of sleep, I would raise and put the mask of the president in place. I would act presidential. I sneered. Presidential! Laura, carefully hidden back inside her pitiful closet not to be let out, had no place in my life. I could only be pathetic in private and in this diary, with no one to witness it. Right now, the only thing I could be was presidential."
"The Quorum meeting in the afternoon was quite agitated. Again when was the last peaceful Quorum meeting? Those delegates had a gift for splitting hair over non-sense and their bickering made me very tired. More often than not, after all the debating we were back to square one. By the end of the day, I was feeling the side effects of the treatment from the day before. I knew I could not allow anyone to see how weary I had become and so I took a deep breath and went on with the meeting. Of course, the quorum went on after the Demetrius. They had smelled a conspiracy and nothing would take them away from it. They were arguing again with attempt to pressure me to release more information. Irritated, I had no intention to give them anything. Of course, Lee found a 'great' opportunity to intervene. Did he really think he was the great savior? He told them that we were exploring 'all possible routes to earth'. Surely it did put them to rest. I did not ask for his help. I was not feeling threatened by the quorum. I am sure Lee was very proud of himself for this little stunt. I could not let him get away with this.
'Mr. Adama, we are all anxious to receive the benefit of your experience, but I personally don't feel the need to have a junior delegate appoint himself my spokesman. Let's move on...' I did not know if it was in retaliation, but Lee stood and moved to interrupt the speaking delegate, Jacob Cantrell from Sagittaron. His disruption created a bit of chaos, as he interrupted the order of the meeting to bring this up. Zarek kept on banging the wooden hammer down, screaming 'Order'. The noise of their non-stop shouting at each other and the banging of the hammer was burning like a hot iron in my head and I could only lean back and close my eyes until they finished arguing. When Jacob yield the floor to Lee, he finally brought out a proposal, 112, which I had been working on in the past few weeks and that involved a reform of our judicial system. In an accusatory tone, Lee mentioned tribunal judges that I would select only, and a court of appeals, which judges I would also chose. He accused me directly of seeking control of the legislative branch and concentrating power of executive branch.
'It would actually damage the very idea of justice.' He said, his implications very clear. It certainly had been my idea to reform the judicial system after Baltar's trial. That such a man would be exonerated, in itself and in my opinion, already had damaged our very idea of justice. And so, a reform had become necessary. Of course, this proposal 112 was still in draft, far from being complete and certainly was not ready to be debated. Lee, reading a proposal in draft, had failed to mention that these changes were provisional and he also had failed to mention that they were a first step in the reform of the entire judicial system. I said that much to the delegates and offered to put this proposal on the agenda for next month's full quorum session. I agreed readily to discuss this proposal once it would be ready, which is what I was going to do anyway. It became abundantly clear that, again, Lee had been manipulated to undermine me. I could only see the hand of Zarek in this. I knew that I had to perform and that any weakness I displayed would be used to weaken me. Any. Cancer or not. As a president, I could not afford to show any emotion, any display of sickness. Anything would be preyed on to destabilize me. I smiled at Lee as we concluded the session, just to let him know that his attempt had failed."
"The next morning, Tory brought me a wig. What a horrible thing! That was, she said, the only wig she could find in all of the fleet. Dark hair, so dark brown, it looked almost black, with a straight cut and bangs. It made me think of Admiral Cain severe hair cut. It was not even made of real hair, but synthetic fibers, which felt so hard to the touch. Tory said it had belonged to a woman who died of cancer. Oh well. I knew that we had no resources and we often passed belongings of people who had died to others. We had grown accustomed to share clothing that way. It was unsettling at first, and after years of having no supplies, it just had become the norm. It was for me a new way to descend into the hell of cancer. This wig was awful. It didn't even matter. From the moment my hair was gone, I felt I already had lost part of my identity. I would not be the same person. Tory was also the one who broke to me the news of the suicide of Cally, the wife of chief Tyrol and how she had found their son in front of the launching tube, that Cally opened to airlock herself. Tory was very shaken. I allowed her to take the afternoon off. Cally had slowly descended into depression and her suicide was surprising, but not totally unexpected. I didn't think she would have left behind her son. Maybe she intended to kill him too and at the last minute decided to spare him. This life in those ships for a few years now had claimed the best of us. I shook my head, trying to clear the tears, which were threatening to flow. Cally… I remembered her on New Caprica, pregnant and then when the baby was born. I remembered how she supported the resistance despite the dangers to her family. Chief Tyrol must be devastated. I spent the rest of the day working on proposition 112, to make sure it was ready for the next Quorum meeting. My heart was heavy. I really did not want to see anyone, focusing on work to push away my dark feelings."
"I packed up a bag the next day, as I was staying overnight on Galactica. I had a treatment in sickbay in the morning and, scheduled the next day, very early, was the funeral of Cally. It made no sense to go back to Colonial One. Bill greeted me in sickbay with a kiss on the cheek and settled in a chair next to me with a deep sigh. I could read his pain in the heaviness of his body.
'So sorry about Cally' I whispered.
'Yeah!' he said, nodding, his voice low. There was nothing to say. Both of us felt the pain of loss.
'I'll be going to see the chief later.' I continued.
'He's not well' Bill replied.
'Who would be?' I said softly. We all had experienced tragedy over and over again. The measure of our pain, in many ways, was indescribable. Feeling was important. The danger was in getting numb, in getting accustomed to the death of those around us, in becoming indifferent.
Dr. Cottle had to stick me a couple of times, before finding a vein. They had started to collapse. I had refused to have a central line placed. Dr. Cottle gave me the anti-emetic pills to prevent vomiting. Finally as the Doloxan infusion started, I reclined on the bed and Bill, sitting down next to me, started reading. The familiar metallic taste of the Doloxan invaded my mouth and the nausea crept in. Bill continued to read 'Love and Bullets' from where we had left it off. The rhythm of his voice anchored me in the present moment. It was soothing and comforting. As I was listening to his voice, I started to let go of my anger. It would be consuming me, destroying me on the inside. I needed to be strong, not angry. We knew that we would disagree. We knew that our roles as Admiral and President would put us from time to time against each other. And we still were friends. We still had this strong bond, this intimacy. The expectation of a normal life was unrealistic. There would not be any normal life. Normal had no meaning in our world. Nothing mattered anymore. We were just a group of survivors. And I was dying. I needed Bill. I needed him to be there for me, right now. After a couple of chapters, I whispered, interrupting him.
'Bill…' I was fighting tears and my voice hitched up with the emotion. This was going to be hard. I knew I had to do it.
'What?' he said softly, taking my hand.
'I have a favor to ask you.' I turned my head to look at him. 'I really would like… if you could help me shave my head. My hair is falling too much now… I…can't keep it that way.' I let the tears run on my temples. He sighed and his eyes filled with tears too.
'Of course.' He replied and he bent to kiss me lightly on the lips. His kiss threatened to overwhelm me. I could not break down. Not yet, not now!"
"We walked silently back to his quarters. There was only silence. I had made up my mind. It was time to do this. After he locked the hatch, I went directly to the head and removed my shirt. I took a last look in the mirror. My face was drawn and my hair was hanging dull, thinning with patches of scalp already showing. Bill came behind me and placed both hands on my shoulders.
'Ready?' He whispered with emotion.
I nodded. I took my brush and brushed aggressively the dying hair to remove as much as possible. Quite a lot got caught in the bristles. I continued to look at myself in the mirror. A ghost, with thin hair!
'I cannot really shave it like this,' he said looking at me over my shoulder, grabbing my eyes in the reflection of the mirror, 'I need to cut it short first'. We both had tears in our eyes. Without waiting for my answer, he took a pair of scissors and cut short the strands remaining, until there maybe was only the thickness of a finger left. I continued to look at myself, holding the sink with both hands, gripping it, as the hair fell on the floor and the sink. I let tears fall silently, as felt his hands gently grabbing the strands and cutting them. He met my gaze a couple of times and kissed my temple, without interrupting his task. The sound of the scissors was threatening to break me. He was concentrated on his job, frowning. When he took the shaving cream and spread it gently on my head, I shivered.
'Shhhh' he said, softly caressing my arm and he dropped a kiss on my shoulder. My head was white. I smiled at the reflection through my tears. A weird woman covered with white foam. This was ridiculous. I started to laugh at the absurdity of this. The shaver was tickling me. He smiled at me warmly in the mirror, while softly drawing the blade on my skin, like a caress. He kept on rinsing it under warm water, as he was slowly shaving the thin layer of hair. My small laugh broke the last of my tight control. Bill was done quickly and his warm washcloth rinsed away the leftover foam. He dried me carefully and let me look at myself in the mirror his arms around my waist, holding me from behind. My vision blurred with tears, as I leaned back against his chest. I cried. Without my hair, I felt naked. Strand of reddish brown hair lay on the floor, on the sink, on my shoulders. Bill gently turned me around and pulled me in his arms, holding my head on his chest and caressing my bare scalp gently, while I broke into sobs. He leaned over and turned on the shower.
'Come' He simply said and helped me finish undressing, and brushed away a few loose strands caught on my skin. I needed to rinse of the left over hair, little pieces that fell in my neck or it would itch so badly. I suddenly felt self-conscious, knowing my body would show the marks of the cancer progressing, scars on my abdomen, my ribs already showing under my skin, the complete absence of body hair. I knew I had lost weight already. I couldn't keep any food down. I was naked in front of him, completely. I was waiting for the water to warm up, facing away from him. I remembered how I used to feel worried he would see the scars of my abuse on New Caprica on my back and buttocks and now I was scared to show him my whole body. Funny how my perspective had changed!
'You're beautiful' he said softly, as I looked down, avoiding his eyes.
'Laura, look at me,' he added, turning me around and lifting my chin with a touch of his fingers.
I looked into his blue eyes full of tears, 'You're beautiful', he repeated.
I shook my head, 'It doesn't matter anymore. It's not about beauty.' I stepped in the shower promptly to avoid crying again. The water was incredibly strong on my scalp. I would have to get used to that. The shower calmed me down and when I came out Bill was waiting for me with a large towel, which he wrapped around my body. Back in his room I put a t-shirt, underwear and sweat pants. I was exhausted and the day was not even over. He had ordered lunch; I saw the tray on the table. I could not even think of food. He probably had eaten a bit, as I knew he would have to return to duty in CIC later. Then, I noticed that he had placed carefully on his desk the strands of my hair that he probably picked off the floor when I was taking my shower. He saw me looking at them.
'Do you want to keep it?' He said.
'No', I said in a strangled cry. He got up, slowly gathered the dark reddish brown hair and slid the strands inside an envelope, which he placed inside his desk drawer.
'I do.'
He came back to me and led me to the rack.
'You are exhausted, Laura, why don't you rest a little?' I nodded, as new tears came again and again. It was embarrassing. He sat next to me and kissed me gently, taking the time to explore my lips and mouth in a way that left me breathless and deeply moved.
He lowered off the lights and joined me, wrapping me in his arms. My emotions were overwhelming me. He did not try to talk me out of my pain. He just held me against his chest and kissed my head, my cheeks, my tears and my lips, until tiredness won over and I closed my eyes breathing his scent in. I fell asleep."
Thank you for reading.
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