At the end of the path there is a lake surrounded by a deep forest. Under the tarp of the trees, not far from the shore, there is a cabin. From the corner of his eye, Bill sees Kara shooting him a knowing glance. He is starting to figure out what this is about, where they are headed to. He wants so badly to be sure she will be there. Part of him cannot wait to find out; part of him is frightened, drowning in anticipation.
After a curve, the road turns less steep. Suddenly, they are much closer to the lakeshore than he thought. The bushes and ground vegetation clear up and he suddenly gets a full, open view all around.
There is a feminine figure sitting on the ground. She is halfway between them and the cabin, giving them her back, staring at the lake.
Bill's heart skips a beat. They are not close enough yet. They are approaching her from behind: he cannot see her face, he really cannot be sure. But before he sees, he knows. Even from this distance, he recognizes her. He could recognize Laura anywhere. Even blindfolded, he could still sense her presence, her aura.
It is her form, her posture, her auburn hair glowing flashes of red under the sunlight, flowing around her shoulders with the light breeze. His heart thunders inside his chest. Even here in the afterlife, there is only so much he can take. He needs to remind himself that nothing bad can happen to him now; otherwise he would fear a heart attack. But he will no longer have one: everything is over.
Everything is beginning.
Kara points with her head:
"There she is."
Bill holds his breath, his gaze fixed on the woman by the lakeshore. They stay quiet, watching silently. Nothing happens. A gentle wind makes the leaves on the trees rustle and scratches the surface of the water, creating tiny waves that catch the sunlight and spread it around in a million sparkles. Laura stays still: she seems lost in thought, miles away from them, contemplating a universe out of their reach.
She is just… right there.
Bill turns to Kara.
"I'd like to be alone with her."
His gaze is a plea.
"I was on my way already, sir." Kara replies with a smirk.
"Thank you." Bill's voice is husky and warm. It holds a promise to make up to her daughter for this later. He knows she understands: she has proven that much already.
Kara starts walking down the path. After a few steps she turns around, finds his glance and mouths:
"Just go, Old Man! She can't wait."
Bill nods, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.
With that, he turns to Laura. She is in the same position, hugging her knees, giving him her back. He allows himself a few seconds to catch his own breath, to quiet his racing heart, to enjoy this precious moment of seeing her again. This still feels unreal somehow. It will, he realizes, until he sees her face. Until she sees him. It was always like that: it was not until the green light of her gaze bathed him that he felt alive, real, and worthy. He swallows, mustering courage. Then he takes one first, tentative step in her direction.
He tries not to make a sound, not to alert or startle her. For some reason he cannot quite put his finger on, he does not want her to notice his presence just yet. There is something about her demeanor that gives him pause.
Maybe he is not arriving at the best moment?
You're stupid, Bill. If you were still alive and she had come back to you, there would have never been a bad moment for that.
Laura's arrival would have made any moment instantly perfect. He is sure it is the same for her. He cannot quite tell what is holding him back.
He carefully comes closer. Maybe this is a place where all your wishes come true by some sort of spell: he is barely a few strides away from Laura now and she remains oblivious to his presence. He can now catch a glimpse of her profile, the line of her nose, the curve of her cheek. He finds himself blinking away tears, struggling with the water invading his eyes and blurring his sight of her. Her skin looks softer, her form fuller, filling up her white, short-sleeved shirt and green, loose skirt in just the right way. She's no longer sick, he marvels. A pang of joy immediately follows the thought.
Straining his ears, he can even hear a sigh. Stretching his neck, he gets to see her expression.
It is full of sorrow.
It is full of sorrow and the realization hits him hard, almost making him stumble backwards. Concern spreads in his chest. A dull current of anger too. She should have no grief, she should feel no pain. She had more than her fair share of that, and he has suffered for the two of them since she left.
As if on cue, Laura finally moves: she lifts a hand to brush a tear from her cheek. And he hears, for the first time, her voice. It fills his ears and his heart with all the force of his longing.
"Okay, Laura. Enough. Get your fat, lazy ass off the ground and find yourself something to do."
He smiles at her word choice that brings back such sweet memories. It is also a clear sign that he is present in her life. And it is so very her to kick herself on the butt, to scold herself for her weakness, whatever it is about.
Bill grins. All of it feels like a homecoming.
Laura sniffs, clears her throat and shifts her weight to get up, laying a hand on the ground for support.
He cannot hold back anymore.
"Laura."
His call is so soft it seems almost a prayer.
Laura freezes, a knee on the ground. The air stills, time is suspended. After a few seconds, she ventures a glimpse over her shoulder. She does so slowly, hesitant; she looks almost scared of what she might find out, afraid that her mind and heart are playing tricks on her. That she is hallucinating.
Her eyes land on his feet first. From there she slides her gaze up his body, taking in his presence, his familiar form, until she reaches his face: the final revelation that it is, indeed, him. A salty tide stings her eyes as they lock with his. She covers her lips with her hand, stifles a sob.
He smiles and starts walking towards her; his steps become long strides. He is so eager to bridge the small gap between them; suddenly, even the tiniest wisp of air between their bodies is too much for him to take. He all but runs the final stretch. Laura reacts and manages to lift herself off the ground. She takes her eyes off him only for the brief moment she needs to get up and find balance on her feet.
He is already by her side.
She stays right there, standing still, holding his gaze, plunging in his soul, breathing labored, cheeks flushed. He takes her hands in his, brushes his thumbs across her skin, feels her tremble. A sweet flood courses through his entire body.
Bill wraps his arms around her; she falls into him gently. It is a silent, quiet move; the ultimate step they have been waiting to take for years. Laura presses herself against his chest, her arms wind tightly around his back. Her whole body shudders in his embrace. Her unleashed emotion shakes him. His lids fall shut as he exhales deeply. With the air he breathes out, years of grief lift off his shoulders; the countless nights when the force of his sorrow would keep sleep away; the burning tears that would refuse to stop; all those empty, meaningless days that never seemed to end; the weight of a life that had lasted far too long. He sinks one hand in her hair: it is thick and full and silky and he dreamed of this every night and he cannot believe he is finally touching her, holding her. He feels her relax into him; her muscles go limp in his arms. He gives in to the sensation of Laura abandoned to him. It is as he remembered, the feeling of her body, her warmth, her heartbeat. The feeling of holding the woman he loves. It is natural, familiar; this is what he was missing. She is welcoming him with every ounce of her body and soul; she is making him whole again.
Silence envelopes them. There is so much to say, and none of it really matters.
"You're here." She whispers, her face buried in the crook between his neck and shoulder. There is awe in her voice. And water. And something else he cannot name. "But how…?"
Bill smiles tenderly, holds back a light prank. It is not like she did not get through this before him.
She sniffs, lifts her head, shakes it in confusion.
"I missed the whole thing... I don't know what happened. I… I could see you, Bill. Not all the time, not whenever I pleased, but… and you seemed at ease when I was around. As if you could sense me somehow. But a few days ago, I lost you, and you just wouldn't show up again. This already happened a few times, but never before had it lasted so long, and I had this bad feeling…"
Laura trails off. She stays standing there, watching him in silence, giving him the full, watery light of her two emeralds.
"Gods…" She shakes her head from side to side in disbelief.
And she cuddles into him again, wrapping her arms tight around his waist. He strokes her back, kisses her temple.
"Frak if I know how this works, but maybe… maybe you were not supposed to see me when I…"
She does not reply; he cannot quite tell what she must be thinking. Maybe she is pondering his words. Maybe she is just reflecting on how unfair it is that she was not allowed to be there for him, when he had been there for her all the way to the end.
Maybe she is realizing it no longer matters.
"Was it… were you in pain?" she dares to ask with a small voice.
He takes his time to reply; grunts gently as he brings back the memories.
"A little. But just for a few seconds, then it was over." He pauses. "It doesn't matter anymore, Laura."
"I'm sorry I wasn't there. I wanted to be there holding your hand when it happened."
There is nothing he can say to that. No words are needed anyway. He just hugs her tighter.
"When I didn't see you on the shore I was afraid that you might not… When you passed away I didn't think you were… I thought I'd lost you forever. When I found out you'd been here waiting all this time… and you weren't on the beach, suddenly it felt possible, after all these years, that you…"
He cannot bring himself to say it aloud. He shakes his head, chuckles lightly. Really, it sounds so stupid now. He should have known better. It is Laura. It is them. They never stopped being them, not even death can keep them apart. Hadn't he himself loved her still, with every fiber of his being, even when he believed she was gone for good? The truth is simple: the seasoned Admiral had just freaked out momentarily upon not seeing her there. That was all.
Laura withdraws a little to be able to see his face, shoots him a questioning glance framed by two arched brows.
Has he missed each and every one of her expressions, of her gestures... They are here, all of them. Every tiny detail is back.
"Bill Adama, you can't possibly be serious."
She plunges in his deep oceans and he sees the light in her own shift, and sparkle, and get suddenly darker. She lays her hands on his cheeks.
"Maybe you can." She whispers, the realization of his pain and doubt when he did not see her on the shore finally sinking in.
Shaken by her finding, her gaze turns tender, thick with affection; it holds the universe in it. Bill feels the vertigo; he is ready to fall.
Laura pulls gently, bringing his head closer. She stops for a second, so close that he can feel her warm breath on his skin.
"I never stopped loving you, Bill. I would have waited forever."
Her lips brush over his in a caress, sending a rush of electricity down his spine. He feels her palms sliding over his cheeks, then her fingers stroking the nape of his neck. He responds to her every touch with a touch of his own. Where her lips kiss, his part; when her hands stroke, his cups the back of her head; when her breasts press against his chest, his arm wraps around her torso and his palm rests flat between her shoulder blades. He wants to feel every inch of her: he craves her taste, her suppleness, her scent, her skin; he cannot have enough. Her sweetness is intoxicating; her sole presence overwhelming. Her hums of pleasure send a pang to his gut, reviving the burn of a desire he once buried along with her lifeless body. Laura's knees buckle and his arms tighten to hold her up; she giggles into his mouth and he has to hold back from asking her to please make that sound again. They give and take, let one another explore, receive in return everything they offer with their hands, with their lips. Their tongues create their own rhythm and this dance is leaving them breathless, and everything is as he remembered but also so much better, and among the fog clouding his mind Bill realizes he will not have to miss her, not anymore.
Never again.
"Laura" he mumbles close to her ear as they part, their cheeks brushing, skin against skin.
"Hmmm."
"Why were you crying before?"
She stills for a second. When she meets his eyes, she is smiling wistfully.
"Because I'm a selfish bitch."
Bill cocks his head, sways them gently, almost playfully.
"You are as far from being a selfish bitch as it can possibly get."
Laura gives him a sad smile.
"When you… when I lost connection with you… Being able to see you was such a relief, Bill. It was such a joy, even if it pained me that you couldn't see me. Then I lost you completely. I didn't know what happened, I was just… forced to live without you. I was worried, clueless, didn't know what was going on. And I missed you so much. I realized I had not truly faced the grief of losing you until now. It was eating me up alive. It felt so… unbearable that I just… left. I went out for a walk. I…" she chokes. "I wished so badly that you… that you finally… I just wanted you here." Her voice is as shaky as a leave under a storm.
Bill strokes her jaw with his thumb.
"Laura, that's not selfish. There's nothing I wanted more than seeing you again. I just… I wouldn't take my own life but…"
He shrugs. Laura sniffs and nods, her slender fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt. He takes her hands in his, kisses her knuckles.
And he sees it.
Of course, it is there. It had to be. He looks down to the ring, spins it around her finger, mesmerized. Just like her, he never thought he would see it again. He never imagined she would wear it willingly, being aware of it; of his last move as she left him.
But she has. All these years.
He hears Laura swallow, then release a shaky breath.
"You never asked." She lovingly teases him.
There are so many things he could reply to this. I didn't want to push. It was complicated given our roles. I was yours already. We didn't really need it. It wouldn't have made it our love any stronger. I did ask, one night when you were asleep in my arms… and you said Yes.
He meets her gaze with a questioning look. It is playful and tender and the mischievous glint in her eyes tells him she will play along.
I'm asking you now.
Laura parts her lips but the intended reply gets stuck in her throat. Only a gasp comes out. She averts her eyes; her chest rises and falls with a deep intake of breath. Seeing her so overcome with emotion, struggling to stay calm, makes his heart swell with joy.
At last, Laura looks up to him. Her eyes are twinkling and teary; her smile is splendid.
"Yes, Bill."
It is just a whisper but it sounds like a thunder in his ears.
It is not like he did not know it already. However, happiness washes over him with such force he fears it could swallow him whole. He can feel it shining through, spilling from his eyes, from his lips, from every pore of his skin. She looks as enthralled as he is, her expression full of light.
"I love you, Laura."
It is the final affirmation of a love that has outlasted life, that has defeated death.
Leaning forward, he kisses her forehead and lingers for a few seconds, reveling in the touch. Then he takes a step back to gain perspective. He outstretches their arms with their hands still linked. He is admiring her, drinking her in: her harmonious figure, the inviting swell of her breasts, her gorgeous legs, the freckles on her pale skin, her long neck, her hair on fire. Her beautiful face again. He knows his expression is giving him away: he could not care less. Laura smiles knowingly, her skin flushing under the caress of his appreciative glance.
"You are…"
Healthy. That is the word that summarizes everything else.
"I know." Her lip quivers but she is smiling wider, a joyful grin gracing her features.
"Glowing. So beautiful." He rasps, and she blushes.
She takes a step forward, wraps her arms around his waist, melts into him yet again.
"I've missed you."
His arms close around her, he strokes her head.
"The wait is over." He murmurs, both for her to hear and to convince himself. It is a reassurance, praise, an expression of gratitude.
There is no better place in the entire universe, in all the universes that there may be. There never was a better place, even when they both were still alive.
Laura's whisper reverberates against his chest.
"I want to show you our cabin."
Bill's heart threatens to burst.
"Can't wait." He rumbles.
"You built it perfect, Bill. Just as it was in my dreams."
"I…"
Wait. What did she just say?
He slips a finger under her chin, bringing her face up.
"What do you mean, I built it?"
Laura's face is flushed; her eyes twinkle with mischief; her smile is brighter than the sun itself. She so clearly cannot wait to break it to him. It is her own, personal surprise.
"You did. The cabin I dreamed of was one we'd… build together. But I passed away, so we couldn't do it."
"Don't remind me." He sweetly cuts her off.
Even here, even now, his voice is tinged with a painful edge. The habitude of grief will take a while to get rid of.
"But here things are… they happen as in your dreams. Whatever you really wanted, whatever you held dear, it comes true here. I've told you I could see you, so I knew you had started to build a cabin on Earth. One day I went out for a walk. I found this lake by chance and I saw… a cabin in progress." She stops for effect. "It was identical to the one you were building, Bill. And the more you worked on it, the more this cabin grew too."
Bill is speechless. He just looks down to her, letting the meaning of her words sink in.
"So." He finally chokes out. "Are you telling me that a cabin started to… show up here as I built the one on Earth?"
"Yes." Laura can barely hold back tears now. "When you finished it, I came back here to check. It was finished, it was perfect… looked exactly like yours. Inside and out. I moved here that very day. I've been living in this cabin all the time you lived in yours. It's… it's the same cabin, Bill. We lived in the same place, just… not together. Yet." She finishes raggedly.
There is something stuck in his throat.
"Gods, Laura."
She bites her lip, smiles from behind the curtain of water in her eyes, and falls in his arms. He holds her tight, feeling and hearing her gentle weeping and her laughter, a mix that has her whole body shuddering; all the rich sounds that are Laura reverberating against his chest.
The first tears start to fall free down his cheeks. Soon, he is shaking violently, unable to contain his emotion any longer. Laura's arms wrap tighter around him in response, holding him up, keeping her solid rock from crumbling, ready to catch all the pieces.
The wind keeps curling the surface of the water and rustling the leaves on the trees; birds chirp somewhere over their heads and tiny waves break against the pebbles on the shore with a small splashing sound.
As they cling to each other, only one thing registers with Bill though: if this is how it ends and it is going to last forever, maybe everything was worth it after all.
Life has just started.
And it will never end.
Thank you for reading!