Laura Roslin was treated and after a few more hours of Simon's sanctioned bed rest she was told that she was being released.
Boomer arranged a medical transport cart. They'd let Roslin dress in the civilian clothes they'd first apprehended her in for the ride, but she may as well have kept the gown on from the cylon clinic. Within moments of arriving at the medical tent she was back in one. Far more worn and dingy than the last.
Boomer had left her there with another warning that they'd be back for her at some point, though she couldn't say when.
"If I were you I wouldn't make any rash decisions," she'd alluded.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Laura had asked.
Boomer said nothing, just signaled an accompanying Five to escort the former president to a waiting medic.
Laura sat upon the rough hospital bed that had seen better days. The entire tent clinic left loads to be desired. It was hot and stuffy, the linens were stained. Cottle and the civilian doctors did their best to make sure the rudimentary hospital was kept as clean and sterile as possible but there were limits to what they could accomplish. After being in the well stocked cylon medical center Laura's anger burned knowing that her people were going without enough medications and rationing frakking bandages. Still, she felt safer there than in the confines of the pristinely kept cylon physicality. Despite her relief over her release she couldn't seem to help the growing fear within her. She kept repeating Bill's warning about what the cylons were capable of, back when they first dealt with the Leoben model. They had the great ability to weave fact, fiction and outright lies into a confusing fabric of truth, half-truths and deceit, leaving you questioning what was real and what was fiction.
They had just been frakking with her, she told herself. That was all, and yet the question as to why was almost more frightening than the lie itself.
She'd been so exhausted as of late. Sick with some kind of mystery ailment, overworked, underfed and constantly stressed. Cylon lie or not, she knew that something was wrong. Something had happened to her inside the cylon cell overnight and soon Cottle would figure out what it was. She just wasn't sure she was ready to know.
She'd been waiting for what felt like a half hour when she smelled the smoke reach her nose before the curtain ever parted.
"Welcome back, young lady," Cottle greeted, looking down at some crude notes the intake medic had quickly jotted after Laura's arrival.
Laura frowned and let out a small groan.
"There's not much here as far as information," he groused, discarding the chart on an empty surgical cart and putting his cigarette out within a stainless steel dish. "Care to fill me in? What did they do this time?"
"Nothing," she answered, as if on auto pilot, but he shot her a look that she knew all too well. He had no time for bullshit. "I mean not that I know of," she corrected.
"Why'd they bring you here?" he asked, his prominent brows furrowing downward.
Laura shifted on the bed, her hips still sore from the time spent within the concrete cell. She swallowed hard and looked down at her lap.
"Last night…" she hesitated, unsure as to why she suddenly felt so reluctant to share a physical malady with a man who had already seen every inch of her body at its worst and knew her complete medical history better than she did herself. "...I was in one of the detention cells. I had been there about thirty six hours...at least I think. I started having terrible cramping. I guess I fainted, passed out or something, but I had been trying to sleep anyway so it wasn't as if I fell," she quickly added before Cottle could interrupt to ask. "This morning they came to check my cell. They said I was unconscious and bleeding. Some sort of hemorrhage. They took me into their hospital. That's where I woke this morning. They had an IV in my arm. I don't know what the frak they gave me," she said shaking her head.
Cottle frowned.
"They stopped the bleeding."
"Yes."
The doctor nodded and thought for a moment.
"Cloud be uterine fibroids," he suggested. "Maybe a ruptured ovarian cyst."
"Cancer," Laura followed, before she had to hear him say it.
"Not usually," he returned with confidence. "They're mostly benign. They become more common as women's hormones shift and head into menopause."
"That sure is taking its damn time," she complained.
Cottle shrugged.
"For some it starts at forty. Others not until sixty. It's a process. No two women are the same."
"Right," Laura said with a half dismissive sigh.
Her cycle had been inconsistent even before her cancer diagnosis. Spotting, missing a few months at a time only to have it start right back up again for a while. She'd no longer been able to keep track nor had she felt the need to keep up with contraception any longer. She knew what was happening. At that point in her life she'd been expecting it, but she'd been avoiding her doctor for other reasons. The lump that had been growing in her breast for the better part of a year was going to kill her. She knew it, but she just wasn't ready to hear it officially and so she'd stayed away, avoiding it along with all the other symptoms she'd been having. Why should she care about the change of life when she didn't have much of one left? Once she'd finally gone in, the day of her biopsy they'd taken her blood. Perimenopause, the doctor had called it. The stage before the real thing. The beginning of the end. But it hadn't ended. The worlds did and her illness progressed and her stress level rose and during the fleet's time on the run it had stopped for quite a while. She'd lost too much weight, her organ function was slowing in every capacity. It made sense. She'd been more than surprised when it returned after her miracle cure, but it had gone back to where it had left off. Unpredictable, continuing the beginning of the end.
"Before last night, when's the last time you had any bleeding?" Cottle asked.
Laura sat there trying to think, but mostly she was just avoiding the doctor's eyes.
"You know, just because you think you're rounding the finish line doesn't mean you get to stop keeping track of your cycle. It's important. At least it can be."
"I'm sorry. It hasn't been easy to track, nor has it been at the forefront of my concerns."
"And now you're having hemorrhages," he challenged, putting his hands in his pockets. "Can I get a guess at least? An estimation."
"I remember I was spotting about two weeks ago. It's been like that off and on since they-" she trailed off not bothering to finish the statement.
Since the cylons came. Since they were found by their enemies and abandoned by their protectors.
"Well stress could also be a factor," Cottle said with a grunt.
Laura scoffed at the understatement.
"Any recent intercourse?"
"Does that really matter?" she huffed, garnering another stern glance from the doc. "No."
Cottle nodded and put his stethoscope on. He put the bell to her chest and listened to her breathing for a moment before removing it and looking up to face her.
"I'll do a pelvic exam and an internal scan, get some blood work," he rattled off as she looked away from him again. "But, are you sure that you're telling me everything that happened there?" he tested with an arched brow, certain that his patient was holding something back.
He'd gotten to know Laura Roslin well enough to discern such things and she was most definitely either hiding something or perhaps downplaying what had occured during her detention.
Laura finally looked back at him and gave another noncommittal nod.
Cottle cleared his throat. He reached for the constant crutch kept in his white coat pocket and rolled one delicate cilindar between his fingers with no intention of lighting it just yet.
"They didn't...violate you physically, nothing that might have caused this?" he tentatively tested, wincing down at the cigarette in his fingers as if the question were physically painful for him to ask.
"No. No nothing like that," Laura, assured as her stomach rolled again.
She had a feeling he'd asked not because of her symptoms but because of others he'd treated after their release from the prison.
"Good," he said with a noticeable air of relief as he returned the rolled tobacco to his pocket. "If I'm remembering right, you came in here a week or so before they took you. You saw one of the staff medics. Said you had nausea and lower back pain."
Laura shrugged.
"Your medic said it was probably a bladder infection. They said you were out of the antibiotic that would treat it. They told me to drink more water and try to find berries at the marketplace"
Cottle nodded.
"Those symptoms get any better?"
"More or less."
"Ya know, your attention to detail is unmatched until it comes to your own damn health. Then you're a selective mute," Cottle criticized in frustration.
"Sorry. I'm not feeling well. I don't feel much like talking."
"I can see that. Anyway let's get to work, make sure you're alright and send you back to that tent full of brats. Maybe you'll feel more like talking once it's about ABCs and one two threes," he teased as he stepped halfway out to ask for the imaging machine.
He returned and went to the crudely constructed sink, washing up and retrieving a set of surgical gloves, ones that were from a cylon shipment Baltar had actually come through on.
"First things, first," he said as he returned to the side of the bed and pulled the latch, dropping its foot and popping the stirrups. "You know the drill, young lady. Scoot down."
Cottle pulled his stool to the end of the bed and sat down, donning the gloves. The sound of the elastic snapping against his wrist caused Laura to jump.
Suddenly her heart went into her throat and her hands went immediately clammy and cold. Frakking cylons. She didn't believe them. She didn't. It was so stupid. Cottle had said cancer was unlikely so why the hell was she so afraid of what he would find?
As she settled into position she closed her eyes tight. She could feel her legs begin to tremble a bit.
"Laura, I'll be as gentle as I can," Cottle assured her in a tone of voice he rarely used.
Her face burned red with embarrassment that he'd noticed her fear.
It was uncomfortable, but she tried to block it out, wanting to wait until he was through to open her eyes again.
With the internal exam still underway, she felt the doctor externally press down low on her pelvis with his free hand. She winced at the pressure she felt.
He moved locations pressing down on a few other points before his hands seemed to pause. For a moment she thought he was done, but the fact that he lingered both inside and out caused Laura to begrudgingly open her eyes.
She looked up to see Cottle staring right back at her with an expression that she could only describe as being composed of half shock and half accusation. As if he were her father and had just caught her in a lie about a boy.
After a beat he finally took his eyes from hers, withdrew his hand from between her legs and relieved the pressure on her middle. Without a world he removed his vinyl gloves, dropping them in the bin at the foot of the bed.
"What?" she finally asked out of frustration and an odd feeling of guilt.
"You're sure the cylon doctors didn't share anything else with you this morning? No other details?"
"No," she lied "Why?"
"Your uterus is enlarged and sitting extremely high."
Laura's throat went tight and her pulse began throbbing in her ears.
Cottle gave her a pat on the knee signaling that she could remove her legs from the stirrups. When she did he pulled the latch on the bed, dropping them back to the sides and raising the foot.
He turned and made his way to the curtain break, opening it enough to reach the cart that had been left there for him. With a low grunt he wheeled in the machine and rolled it beside the bed.
"When was, the last time you had intercourse...just for the record."
Laura struggled to find her voice. She was afraid it would break if she spoke.
"How long since they found us?" she managed to ask as her eyes filled with tears she couldn't manage to fight any longer.
Cottle took in a deep long breath.
"Ten, twelve weeks maybe," he said. "Give or take."
She nodded and he bowed his head as if in understanding. The gesture made her irrationally angry. As if he was saying he comprehended exactly what she meant and was figuring it all out as he stood there. Ten or twelve weeks since Galactica had blinked out the sky, ten or twelve weeks since Bill Adama had been able to visit the planet just to be with her.
Cottle silently draped a thin sheet over Laura's lap and motioned for her to lift the gown above her navel as he slowly reclined the bed.
"Laura, before I turn this machine on, I want to say this...You already know that you can tell me anything. Now those cylon physicians...they told you more than you're sharing, didn't they?"
The tears in her eyes finally poured over telling him what he already knew.
"It can't be," she whispered.
Cottle sighed, flicking on the machine and picking up the probe.
Laura closed her eyes again as tight as she could, half to stop her weeping and half because she couldn't bear to look. She felt the gel being applied to her middle and once again she had to resist the urge to vomit as Cottle began to roll the device around her slickened skin. It seemed like he was at it for ages rolling it to one side then a little lower or higher. She just wanted it to be over but at the same time she didn't want to hear what he had to say.
She felt the probe leave her skin and heard Cottle click it back into its holding place.
"Laura," he began, but she couldn't bring herself to open her eyes. He huffed and reached over to the screen audibly clicking it off. "Laura," he attempted again.
Finally she looked up at him bleary eyed.
"Did you know before they told you this morning?"
The tears in her eyes continued to stream.
She gulped against a painful lump in her throat.
"No. I was positive they were frakking with me. I thought it was a lie. I was sure of it until…"
"Until you started to actually think about it," he finished for her.
She covered her face with her hands. She wanted to disappear.
"Now that we've confirmed would you mind telling me what else they told you?"
"Why should I believe a damn thing they've said?" she said through her tears.
"I don't know. But they did help you last night. They have far more resources there than I do here. Frak if they share them with the rest of us. I'm not saying we shouldn't be skeptical about any information they provide but for the sake of conversation?"
"I really don't know," Laura sniffed. "I was so angry. It was such an outrageous claim. Most of what they said after, I hardly listened."
"Did they explain why you were bleeding last night?"
Laura nodded.
"Yes, but I can't...I don't remember."
Cottle cleared his throat and put his hands into his pockets
"You have a condition called placenta previa," he went on as Laura let out a loud sigh, the term obviously registering with her. "The placenta is covering part of the cervix. It can cause pretty heavy bleeding, mostly intermittent but the episodes can be alarming."
"They mentioned that," she admitted.
"It's not uncommon. Especially in expectant women over thirty five years of age. Ninety percent of the time it will resolve itself as time goes by. If not, it does complicate things. The important thing is to monitor it and treat any heavy bleeds."
"Godsdamn it," she cried, still in near disbelief.
The shock was still overpowering the mortification and confusion she knew would come soon.
"Anything else?" Cottle enquired.
Laura wiped at her eyes, attempting to compose herself.
"They said- that I was dehydrated and that it had caused minor contractions. They said it must have made the bleeding worse. They stopped them with some medication."
"That's all consistent. I don't see much reason not to believe that's exactly what happened. Had you been here we would have treated you the same way."
"Gods, what in the frak do I do now? How did it get so far ? I did this. I missed every sign, every symptom. How could I be so foolish?"
"It's not your fault, Laura," Cottle tried to assuage her self-berating. "Often women who don't believe they're capable of conceiving don't become aware of an accidental pregnancy for some time. There are many ailments that can mimic symptoms. All of yours were easily explained away by more plausible possibilities. The stress, your age, poor diet, a presumed infection."
"And now what the frak do I do?" she asked in a voice she knew sounded far too pitiful.
Cottle sighed deeply and let it out.
"I'll help you in any possible way that I can, but I have to let you know that I don't have exactly what I need to safely terminate second trimester. It's not that I can't, it's just that...well the risk, the possibility of infection is extremely high. We also have to be as discreet as possible. The cylons, they're religious frakking fanatics. Why the frak they were programmed like that I'll never understand, but they're worse than the damn Gemonese. If they get wind that I'm performing terminations they'll have me and the rest of the civilian doctors thrown in that frakking hole too. We've already been reprimanded after asking for some specific supplies."
"How did this happen? Now? After everything I've been through?" Laura wept. "How is it possible?"
"Unlikely is not impossible. Forty second in line. Remember? You have a tendency of beating the odds, Young Lady."
"This is insane."
Cottle didn't disagree but he couldn't do anything but help Laura to face it now.
"The fact is that though it was erratic you were still ovulating. It just takes one well timed release. You obviously had viable eggs left."
"I feel like I'm going to be sick."
"Laura, listen, I know that the notion might sound absurd, but if you did decide to carry it through, I'll do everything in my power to make sure you deliver safely. That being said you should know that if the condition you have now should persist to the time of delivery it could be very dangerous. It only happens in about ten percent of cases though," Cottel went on to gingerly explain. "I don't have as much diagnostic equipment as I did on Galactica, but I'll at least be able to tell you if the fetus seems physically healthy. As of right now, from the short scan I took, it seems to be. Measurements all match up to the last possible date of conception. About thirteen weeks. Even without prenatal care and proper nutrition it's on target for growth. Developmentally...I won't be able to tell you much."
Laura shook her head, she could hardly comprehend all that he'd said to her.
"Sherman...the cylons," she paused, finding it difficult to continue. "They said it...it…"
"They did testing on the fetus?" Cottle interjected.
Laura nodded in confirmation.
The doctor's brow rose. He'd been positive from the moment he walked through the curtain that she'd been holding back information. He just never imagined how much.
"And?" he prompted, though he hated to force her.
She seemed to be having enough trouble getting the words out, but he knew her. He respected her, he cared for her as a patient and as friend very much, but she had an awful tendency to push the limits of her own health. If there was anything else that might need urgent treatment he had to know immediately, not when she was ready to admit it.
"They said there were no physical or chromosomal abnormalities, that it was healthy, but something did come up."
"What?" he asked, but she only grimaced and rubbed at her bleary eyes. "Come now. You've faced death and lived to tell about it, you can face this, young lady."
"That's the problem!" Laura snapped. "I was supposed to die! You and Bill and frakking Baltar, you all made a choice and now I'm alive and I'm not the same as I was before! Maybe…maybe you should have let me…"
"What the frak are you trying to say, Roslin?" Cottle grumbled. "I'm a doctor. I took an oath. Now I know that treatment was far from desirable but it was our only option. I had a chance to save a patient and I took it, so if you have something to accuse me of just say it. I didn't do anything I wouldn't do again in a frakking heartbeat so just tell me what it is you're trying to say."
Laura looked back at the man. She hadn't meant to place blame on him. Not really. He'd only ever tried to help her. She was just so angry that she was finding it hard to feel badly for her outburst.
"It has unexpected attributes...Cylon."
Cottle stood staring for a moment trying to process what the frak she had just divulged but it made no sense.
"Laura," he tentatively began, "I know the timing is right for you to confidently believe that this is the Old Man's baby…" he paused as she cringed and doubled over in the bed at the mention of Bill in such unimaginable context. She covered her mouth with her palm to stifle a sob and with a gentle hand to her shoulder Cottle went on, "...but are you positive that this isn't somehow their doing? When was the first time they took you?"
Laura took in a sharp painful breath.
"No. No it wasn't them. They didn't start taking me in until a few weeks after they arrived. It wouldn't line up. Before today I'd never seen much more than those godforsaken cells. They've always left me mostly alone. Its father is not a cylon...That DNA...those godsdamn attributes...It all came from me."