Hello to anyone who is still checking for updates. I'm sorry there was another 2 month plus stretch between chapters. Its still a struggle to find time to work on this or energy to give it but I do enjoy it when I can so for now here's another chapter. In comparison to the last one, this chapter may be a bit lacking in action. It was chopped in half, the second more eventful half becoming chapter 15. This is a bit of a bridging chapter but I hope you'll find it entertaining anyway.

Please let me know what you think. I am thankful for the feedback and commentary some have left me. It's always encouraging to know there are readers left. Sometimes it gives me a boost to keep going. I especially appreciate the reactions to themes and the insightful comments and interesting guesses about the plot. Thank you to those who have taken the time to do that.

To anyone confused about the timeline please know that the story is canon divergent after the arrival of the cylons to New Caprica. Their stay on the planet in this story has been much longer.

Happy reading! P

NEW CAPRICAN COLONIAL MEDICAL TENT:

WEEK 41 SINCE CYLON OCCUPATION

Following the transfer out of the bunker Meri stayed with Laura at the clinic for most of the day, napping nearby in a chair until she finally awoke.

"You're okay, dear. Everything's fine," the midwife reassured.

It took a few moments for Laura to gather her thoughts, still groggy and disoriented from the night before.

She had almost no memory of being brought to the clinic.

The last thing she clearly recalled was sobbing in the arms of Ellen Tigh.

Everything after was fuzzy.

"I need some muscle down here, Colonel," she vaguely remembered Cottle saying back in the bunker once fatigue began to take

over and her woeful cries had quieted to crestfallen whimpers. "Would you grab a man or two from the tunnels? She won't be able to make it up the ladder on foot. I need her transferred onto the backboard stretcher and taken out through whatever exit you think best."

"Be right back, Major," Saul had replied with a nod but he didn't make it very far.

"I'll be with you the whole way," Ellen had pledged to Laura as she watched her eyes beginning to grow heavy.

"No, you won't," Cottle stepped in, causing the Colonel to swiftly double back in anticipation of his wife's reaction.

"Says who?" Ellen had sharply challenged.

She'd been with Laura through the night into the morning; holding her hand through hours and hours of agony and then embracing her sob wracked bleeding body as she let go of her newborn son. She had no intention of leaving her side before she was safely recovering in the clinic.

"Says me," Cottle gruffly returned. He understood the woman was well intentioned but they were all tired and drained from circumstance and his patience level was nonexistent. "We don't need any extra bodies drawing attention on the way. You stay here. We need help cleaning all of this up."

"Frak that," Ellen had scoffed, taking a few steps from Laura's bed toward the irritated doctor.

"I've been with her all night while you were snoozing in your tent for half of it," she charged. As far as she was concerned the doctor had been nearly useless. He'd come down to bark a few orders and then he'd taken a smoke break before showing back up at the last moment. She and the other two women had been the ones helping Laura through every tumultuous hurdle. "I'm not leaving her now," she contended.

"Ellen," Saul began to sternly interject.

"Save the backtalk for your husband, lady," Cottle quipped. "I've got my patient to worry about and I don't want anyone other than medical staff escorting her. Got it?"

"No. I don't got it!" Ellen shouted in return.

"Elle!" her husband cautioned from the sidelines.

"Saul, I-"

"Ellen, dear," Meri very suddenly and diplomatically interrupted, rushing over to grasp both of the agitated woman's hands within her own steady palms. "You've been such an immense help," she told her with a genuine smile of gratitude. "Really. I mean it. I'd have you assist me any day. You're a natural. If every woman had a sister by her side so supportive my job would be that much easier. In fact, you'd make a fine doula if you're ever interested in training," she went on in her comforting way. "I know you're concerned, but I'll be with her. I promise I won't leave her side until she's settled and ready to get some rest. You have my word that I'll make sure you're updated on how she's doing," the nurse-midwife vowed.

Ellen's lip began to tremble.

"But I-"

"Elle," Saul called again, his tone softer but still firm in his warning.

Dejected, she looked over to see him shake his head, once more telling her to back down.

"Fine," she'd relented.

With a deep sigh she returned to Laura's bedside as the others continued to prepare for the transfer to the clinic tent.

Laura's eyes were mostly closed. She seemed to be nearly sleeping, though silent tears still seeped from beneath her lashes.

"I know you must be so tired," Ellen began, as she brushed an errant hair from Laura's damp cheek with her thumb. "They're going to move you to the clinic in just a second. I know I said I'd go with you but…" she trailed off shaking her head and glaring at Cottle's back before she returned her focus. Laura's eyes fluttered open then shut again. When she didn't reply Ellen went on. "I just want to tell you again that I'm so very proud of you, Laura. And…and I wanted to thank you for letting me be here. I don't think I've ever seen anything so amazing. I'm truly honored to have witnessed your little miracle coming into the world and I know he'll be back in your arms soon. I just know it," Ellen sniffed with earnest sincerity.

Laura's heavy lids opened again but before they closed Ellen noticed that something was off.

Her eyes looked out of focus and glassy. They'd been pretty bloodshot before she began to drift off but this was different. Something wasn't right.

"Laura?" Ellen prompted, attempting to get her to open her eyes again. "Laura, look at me."

She reached out to cup her cheek, finding her skin clammy and hot to the touch.

"Laura?" she repeated, moving her hand to feel the woman's forehead.

Laura's eyes opened for a fraction of a second before they fell again.

"She's burning up!" Ellen shouted in alarm, as she began to run her palms over Laura's body feeling her heated chest and arms.

"Damn it," Cottle swore from where he'd been busy gathering his things into his medical bag.

Meri was the first to rush to Laura's side with a thermometer.

"Laura, can you open your mouth for me, love?"

"She seems really out of it," Ellen added. "I thought she was just tired or sort of checked out after everything, but her eyes are all glassy."

"Laura?" Meri said again as she pulled her lids open to check her pupils. "I'm just going to slip this in under your tongue," she told her as she put the device into her mouth and held it.

Cottle made his way over, wedging himself between Ellen and the bedside in order to reach Laura's wrist.

"Pulse is normal," he noted after a few short moments.

Donning his stethoscope he put its bell to Laura's chest.

"One hundred and one point eight," Meri read the thermometer before slipping it out from Laura's lips. "Elevated temperature isn't uncommon following delivery," she considered, tempering the group's shared tension. "Sometimes there's a fever for the first twelve hours or so. It's not necessarily an infection. Could be her body adjusting to the hormonal rush. The amniotic fluid was perfectly clear. Still, due to the circumstances and the injury I suggest we get her on antibiotics right away."

"Her fever isn't very high. Why's she so out of it?" Ellen remarked from over Cottle's shoulder.

The doctor looked at his patient with obvious pity in his eyes.

"She's probably gone into an acute stress shock," he'd replied with a sigh.

"What's that mean?" Ellen asked.

"It means it's time to go."

At the clinic Doc Cottle made the decision to put Laura under sedation. She was exhausted, in and out of consciousness and showing signs of psychogenic shock. The internal repair she needed wasn't too serious but would be difficult to suture. He thought it best to avoid having her endure the ordeal. She needed painful injections of local anesthetic and her already strained legs would need to be held up by straps and stirrups in a precarious position just so he could get a suitable angle. She'd dealt with enough trauma. He wanted her to rest and begin to heal.

"You take a nap, young lady," Laura remembered Cottle saying before it all went dark. "I'll have you fixed up in no time."

Her last thought before the sedative took hold was of how empty she felt; her baby gone from her womb and her heart torn from her chest.

It was a small blessing that for once she didn't dream.

She'd been in and out ever since they'd brought her to recovery. A few times she woke up asking for Maya or Ellen but each time Meri assuaged her back to sleep by letting her know that everyone was fine.

When Laura awoke around lunchtime the midwife greeted her with a bowl of soup, some bread and a cup of tea.

Though she was finally more lucid she was so dejected and despondent that Meri could hardly get her to speak let alone eat.

"It's not for you, love," the woman told her as gently as she could. "Remember that. You'll need to start pumping soon so we can get some milk on its way. If you don't, your body will think that you don't need the supply. It'll only produce what it's told it has to provide. You've got to keep him fed and you need fuel to do it."

Laura winced at the thought. Just a few short years before she'd felt so utterly alone in life that she'd willingly ignored her own body's warning signs as it slowly began to kill her. There had been no one left to consider other than herself.

Now there was someone who up until just a few hours before had been relying on her every breath. How much he still needed her was just beginning to sink in. She'd never wanted to live more and yet it had never seemed a more difficult task.

"Have you heard anything?" Laura rasped, finding her voice all but gone. "Is he-"

"He's safe and settled, mama," Meri reassured, careful to keep her tone just above a whisper. "Weighed in at six pounds two ounces. Twenty inches long. Perfectly perfect. You've done good, but he's got lots of growing to do."

Laura closed her eyes as they began to sting with fresh tears. All she could see in her mind's eye was his tiny face and the memory of his cries still echoed in her ears. As wrong as it felt she did her best to push the images away.

Once she composed herself she forced down whatever food and drink Meri put in front of her before exhaustion overtook her once again.

The next time Laura woke up her breasts were aching and as hard as rocks. Still groggy from the lingering sedative a swell of irrational panic surged inside of her as the sensation sparked wretched memories of her past suffering. She once again lost her breath overcome by anxiety. It had taken Meri and a few medics to help calm her enough to get her heart rate down.

Back on supplemental oxygen Laura sat in bed with a mask on her face and a warm compress draped over her chest.

"Feeling better?" Meri tested after a while.

Laura frowned behind the clear plastic mask.

Of course she wasn't feeling any better, she thought, but at least she could breathe again so she nodded.

"Good," the midwife gladly continued. "We've got work to do. That compress should have eased things a bit but it won't feel much better until we use this," she said, holding out the breast pump. "I'll do it for you this time," she offered. "The only way to get rid of the discomfort is to relieve the pressure." Meri pushed open Laura's hospital gown and removed the warm soothing cloth from one of Laura's breasts. Carefully she placed the flange of the manual pump over it. "You'll have to work up the strength in your hands, I'm afraid. The few electric ones we have are all in use by other mamas. But this works just as well. Some say better. You just have to get used to it."

Laura took the mask from her face. She tensed at the sensation as Meri began to squeeze the device. There was a sharp pressure and a deep ache that increased each time the woman pumped the handle and yet nothing was happening.

"It's not working," Laura hoarsley hiccuped, shaking her head in frustration.

"It will," Meri insisted. "You just need to trigger a let-down. Your body knows the difference between a hungry mouth and plastic. You need to help it along. Try letting yourself think of him."

Laura held back tears of anger and frustration as Meri continued to work the device. She was offended at the insinuation that she wasn't already thinking of her son and then immediately ashamed that she had in fact been trying not to. She was worried for him, she missed his constant presence, but thinking back to the brief time that she'd gotten to spend with him in her arms was so painful she'd hardly let herself revisit the memory for fear that she might crumble into pieces. She was embarrassed that Meri seemed to sense or presume that she was avoiding it. Laura cringed at a sharp twinge in her chest. The hard plastic cup and harsh suction was so unlike the gentle tugging of her baby's little lips. She closed her eyes and thought back to the tiny sounds he'd made as he latched on and fed for the first and only time. She thought of how his nose had nestled into her skin. Gods, he still seemed like a dream. As she thought of him her breasts began to prickle like pins and needles. Finally she began to feel some relief.

"There we go," Meri said as precious milk began to stream into the bottle. "That's it, love. See? You can do it just fine. Usually the sound of baby crying will trigger it in the beginning, but just telling yourself that he's hungry can often do the trick. Sometimes a let-down will be triggered and you'll start to leak before you even get a chance to pump, so it's best to keep on a schedule to avoid waste and keep your clothes dry during the day. It will all become second nature eventually. I'm not saying it will be easy. It takes lots of time and energy, but you'll get the hang of it. "

Though Laura hated the feeling of the device on her body she was so thankful to have it. Mesmerized by the warm liquid filling it she sighed in relief knowing that at least a part of her would reach her son by the end of the day.

Tory had organized a courier team. Someone would come to Laura's to pick up her supply twice a day. It would be passed to a second person who would then deliver it to the foster home. Once a day empty bottles would be picked up from the foster home and delivered to Cally Tyrol. Cally would bring the bottles to Laura to refill for the next day.

At least that was the plan.

Having the deliveries change hands so many times was hardly ideal or efficient but Tory and Anders thought it best to avoid any direct deliveries to detract from anyone picking up on the pattern.

Laura winced and stiffened as her belly suddenly began to tighten and cramp while Meri pumped along.

"It's going to trigger some residual contractions for the first week or so," the midwife explained. "It's normal. Just breathe through them when they happen. Try not to tense up or pause the pumping. This is how your body knows he's out and eating. It's telling the womb it's time to shrink back down. That's what's causing the contractions."

"For frak sake," Laura swore through the bout of discomfort as she put the oxygen mask back up to her face. "Why is every part of this so godsdamn painful?"

Meri gave her rhetoric a sympathetic smile.

"Breathe. You're doing well," she observed as the bottle filled more and more. "The IV antibiotics you're on are milk safe, so no need to worry about transference. We'll get this on its way as quickly as possible."

Laura grimaced through another round of cramps while Meri detached the device and moved it to the other breast.

"What have they been feeding him in the meantime?" she asked as the pain eased, her voice still terribly weak and scratchy.

"His stomach is the size of a cherry," Meri shrugged. "He won't need much these first twenty-four hours, but I've sent one of our working wet nurses to check in. She's quite healthy and reliable. She's been grief nursing for the past six months," Meri informed as she began to pump again.

"Grief nursing?" Laura scowled as the device began to build up pressure.

"Don't tense up," Meri reminded.

Laura exhaled into the mask and closed her eyes. She tried to remember the sweet baby smell of Will's head and the way his wisps of hair had felt so feather soft against her lips. Her eyes watered and she felt the sensation of static prickling in her chest once again.

"There we go," Meri said as the second bottle began to fill. "Very good."

Laura bit down hard on her bottom lip as it began to quiver. Forcing herself to think of the baby in such detail was torturous, but it was obviously working and he needed to eat. She'd never in her life felt so emotionally raw. Her son wasn't something she could compartmentalize, suppress or avoid. He'd come into the world and torn her heart wide open and there was nothing she could do about it.

Composing herself with a hard swallow she removed the oxygen mask.

"What's grief nursing, Meri?" she asked again, still perturbed by the strange term.

Meri's ever-present smile wavered for a moment before it resolved.

"Sometimes when a mother's little one doesn't make it, being left with the milk supply that was supposed to be for their baby can be difficult," she somewhat reluctantly began. "Some women choose to let it stop naturally with time, some take herbs to help it cease faster. Others find comfort in nursing babies whose mamas are unable. Knowing that they can feed a baby who needs it can be healing for them. Not all of our wet nurses are grief nursing, but that's the case for this woman."

Laura felt her stomach plummet at the crushing explanation. She was suddenly reminded that she'd been immeasurably blessed by the Gods.

The devastation she'd felt over being apart from her son had been so overpowering that she hadn't found it within herself to truly rejoice in the fact that he'd been born healthy and alive.

With a knot in her throat she said a silent prayer of thanks for her son's safe arrival. Soon many would be told that she was mourning her child and she felt a heavy guilt over the lie as she thought of parents who were truly doing so. She said another prayer for the grieving woman who was helping to feed Will and for the soul of the baby she'd lost. Laura couldn't help but think of poor Maya and her little Diana. Her stomach rolled as she thought of Maya having to lie for her. How could she ask that of her after all she'd been through?

"She'll help feed him until you can get him a steady daily amount," Meri added, breaking Laura's train of thought. "But if you'd like, I can ask her to keep going a time or two a day to nurse him even after you get him a sufficient supply."

Laura fought to speak against the tightness in her sore and strained throat.

"What for?"

"So he doesn't lose his latch and become used to bottles only. That way when you're back together you won't need the pump and you'll be able to nurse him yourself again," Meri explained.

Fresh tears sprung in Laura's eyes over the optimistic thought that she might one day be able to feed Will again herself. She'd just assumed that the first time had been the last. Now that she'd come to know what it felt like she couldn't imagine a more precious reunion.

"If she's willing…"

Meri nodded, taking the pump from Laura's breast and removing the flange to cap the bottle.

"We'll get this out to him shortly," she said with a wink.

"Meri?" Laura asked as she pulled her hospital gown closed to cover her chest. "How are you still awake?"

The midwife chuckled as she turned to place the full warm bottle into one of her bags.

"I've been dozing right here next to you on and off all day. I sleep when you sleep. Besides, I can go a few days without. As long as I've got some good strong tea, that is," she smirked, gesturing to the canteen that always hung from her satchel. "You were lucky. I have some first time mothers in labor for over forty-eight hours."

"Gods," Laura yawned.

"You're done for now, mama. Sleep," Meri instructed, as she turned back to the bed with her hands on her plump hips.

"Have you heard from Maya or Ellen?" Laura asked yet again.

"Everyone's fine," Meri answered without any hint of irritation. "I've been sending word to Ms. Ellen so she knows you're alright. Poor dear was so worried when we left. You two must be very close."

"We actually aren't at all," Laura confessed. "I mean, not really."

"Oh. Well, you two could have fooled me, but then again at a time like that we're all sisters in the name of Artemis," Meri reasoned.

Laura thought back to how Ellen had held on to her so fiercely down in the bunker, as if her arms could somehow help absorb a fraction of her sorrow. She'd muttered a frantic string of affirmations promising that all would be well one day as if she were willing it to be true with her words. Laura had just sobbed under her embrace, hardly able to comprehend a thing she was saying, but she couldn't help but feel as though she might very well have completely fallen apart had Ellen Tigh not been there holding her together.

"I'll wake you in another two hours when it's time for you to eat and pump again," Meri said, with a soft pat to the side of the bed. "Just like if he were here."

Laura nodded and settled against her pillows.

"Has anyone shown up asking…" she winced, fearful of the answer.

"No, dear…Not yet," Meri softly replied, her answer gentle in its honesty.

For the moment Laura could rest, but it was only a matter of time.

NEW CAPRICA TENT CITY

DWELLING OF SAMUEL T ANDERS & KARA THRACE

"Bunker's cleaned up, baby is settled with his foster family and some major damage was done to the ground transportation station," Tory listed. While the Tighs caught up on rest she and Tyrol had decided to debrief with Anders at his place. "I'd say this has been a fairly successful thirty-six hours."

"Except I heard you almost passed out when Roslin's water broke," Sam smirked, causing her to shoot him a resentful scowl.

Ellen Tigh had a big mouth, Tory inwardly groused.

Not much rattled her, but she was aware that her composure had been less than stellar through the entire ordeal. She was just glad that it was all over.

"He's just teasing, Tory," Chief intervened. "Nick was born in our tent. I saw the whole thing. It's a wild experience. I'll say that," he offered sympathetically but she just found his attempt at alleviating her embarrassment irritating.

"I was fine," she insisted.

Resisting a side-eyed glance at Anders, Chief graciously dropped the topic.

"Sure," he said with a nod, putting an end to any further ribbing.

"Listen," Tory continued, "we did it, but now comes the hard part. Keeping it all underwraps."

"And paying the price," Anders added, putting his hands behind his head and stretching his triceps with a low groan.

"More than likely," Tory regretfully affirmed.

Rumors about Roslin and her baby were starting to spread little by little but to their knowledge the cylons had yet to get wind of it.

"The explosions did way more damage than I figured they would," Anders noted. "The fire they caused was huge. Good news to an extent, but I'm guessing those toasters are pretty frakkin' pissed right now."

"Man," Chief shook his head. "Feels like throwing a rock at a hornets nest and just waiting for all the stings to come," he darkly mused.

"They'll be coming for Roslin or Tigh soon," Tory reasoned.

"I dunno," Chief considered with a shrug. "They haven't taken me much yet. Could be me."

He had been detained only twice since the occupation began. Both were early on and for just a few hours at a time. It was no picnic but his fear of being taken again hadn't truly escalated until after his son was born.

"They haven't taken me at all yet," Anders huffed, becoming noticeably agitated. "And ya know what? I wish they frakkin' would!" he barked before yanking a kitchen chair out from under his table and dropping himself onto it.

Both Tory and Tyrol knew enough to let the outburst go without intervention. Sam's anger had been escalating.

It was no secret that he really did want to be arrested. If Kara was alive he figured that wherever she was held he'd be that much closer to finding her if he had access to the cylon prison. It wasn't the most rational theory and he had no intentional plan to get himself arrested, but they all knew part of why he had no fear implementing resistance attacks was because he wanted them to come for him.

"Well," Tory began, cutting the silence after an awkward beat, "if they come for Roslin to interrogate her about the latest bombings they're going to quickly find out she's no longer pregnant," she rationalized.

Chief shook his head as he rubbed at his beard with the back of his hand.

"I think they'll go for the Colonel first. Roslin says lately they haven't been interrogating her much about resistance stuff with the baby and all, but Tigh, they've been getting pretty rough with him, pushing for info," he grimaced. "He knew this was coming, but I can see he's getting worried now. He knows it's just going to get worse."

"Ellen can't frakkin' take it anymore," Sam remarked from where he sat leaning over in his rickety chair. "She's a mess everytime he goes in there."

"You better tell her to just get a frakking grip and stay out of things," Tory lectured him with an obvious tone of disdain.

"She went looking for him once," Sam defended, sitting upright in his seat, "and I already talked to her about it."

"Are we sure about that?" Tory tested. She'd always found the relationship between Ellen Tigh and Sam Anders to be suspicious. He was quick to champion for her and the two seem oddly familiar with one another. She'd just assumed that they must be sleeping together right under the Colonel's nose. "I thought Duck said he saw her down by the Cylon admin building after you two had your little talk."

Sam grimaced at Tory's implication. He didn't like her attitude and they'd been ruffling each other's feathers since the occupation began.

"Ellen swore she wasn't there and I believe her. Okay? People like to make up rumors about her and she gets a bad rep, but I know her. She doesn't want to make anything worse for the Colonel. I already told her to back off and let us handle things but I'm not gunna tell her to get a frakkin grip. It's her husband. The man she loves. You may not get it, but being left behind while the love of your life is taken away by monsters in the night isn't something anyone can just deal with. So I'd suggest backing off of her. She's done nothing but help with all this and from what I heard she was down there holding Roslin's hand all night while you were up in her tent trying not to hyperventilate. So maybe try to be a little more grateful and show her some godsdamn respect."

"I didn't mean-"

"Yes you did," Sam bit, cutting off whatever excuse Tory was about to give. After a few more moments of hanging hostility he dropped his shoulders and let out a long breath. "Whatever. Let's move on," he relented, leaning back in the creaking chair.

Chief looked back and forth between the two of them; Tory standing silent with a stolid expression, Anders, arms crossed and gaze downcast to avoid all eye contact.

"When's Cally need to start making bottle runs?" he asked, just hoping to change the subject and break the tension.

"Meri's team is taking care of it for now but Cally will start soon as Roslin is back in her own tent," Tory replied.

"When's that gunna be?"

While he didn't exactly mind Cally helping out it was a little unnerving now that she'd been fully briefed on the situation. Knowledge was dangerous and now she had information that their enemies would go to great lengths to learn.

She'd been chosen mostly because she was a new mother herself. It wouldn't look strange for her to be carrying around baby bottles if she was ever searched.

Tory shrugged.

"Cottle said a few days unless-"

"Unless the Cylons come for her and decide to drag her in," Sam finished for her.

Begrudgingly, Tory let the interjection go.

"I'll let Cally know," Tyrol said with a nod.

"Fine," Sam spoke, rising from his chair eager to get the meeting over with. "We good?"

"No," Tory answered, her voice restored to its usual assertive tenor. "Not yet."

"What's left?" Chief asked.

"I feel like the three of us need some kind of a plan," she stated.

"For what?" Sam scowled.

"For the three of us," Tory proposed. "For the resistance as a whole. For if there comes a time soon when Tigh and Roslin aren't around anymore to go to for decisions or direction. I think we need to be able to make this work without them."

The two men looked at each other and then back to Tory. She was right. They needed to be able to let resentments go and avoid any chance of future power struggles. They'd been successful so far under a guiding authority, but as the strain of impending responsibility became greater so did the pressure and it was getting to all of them. What would they do if or when Roslin and Tigh weren't there to defer to? What if they had to lead on their own? They couldn't let anything deter their mission. If they weren't united they had no chance against their enemies.

"The plan is to do what we always do," Tyrol replied. "Fight 'em til we can't."

NEW CAPRICAN COLONIAL MEDICAL TENT

Finally giving into the need for some decent sleep Meri had left for home after Ishay helped her perform Laura's postnatal exam. She promised that she'd send another midwife to help with pumping sessions for the rest of the day and left Ishay with her notes and recommendations.

Having caught up on sleep himself, Cottle returned to the clinic only a few hours after her exit.

"He's fine, before you ask," he announced in lue of a greeting as he shut the curtains to Laura's recovery room. "Sleeping, eating, filling his diaper. Doing well."

Laura gave a slight nod and looked to her lap as the doctor went to the sink to wash up. There was relief in hearing that her baby was okay and yet her heart was heavy knowing that she wasn't the one with him providing what he needed.

"And you're doing better than expected," the doctor continued, turning off the weak squeaky tap and making his way beside the bed.

Laura hadn't seen him since he'd sedated her upon her arrival and it was a comfort to finally have him back.

"Am I?" she questioned with an arched brow.

Her entire body was sore. Every muscle felt strained, she was still cramping, her eyes stung, her throat burned and she felt like she'd spent the night riding a horse with a flaming saddle. If this was better than Cottle expected she wondered what the frak he'd been anticipating.

"Taking into account the state you were in, I'd say so. You lost more blood than I would have liked. I thought about a transfusion but, well, I held off- considering," he said with some hesitation, sticking his hands within the pockets of his white coat.

"Considering?" Laura scowled. "Considering what?"

Cottle sighed.

He'd hoped that she'd be able to surmise the reason. While they did have her fairly isolated far back in the clinic and away from most other patients they still had to be wary of their volume and what they said within her recovery room.

"Your special circumstances," he hinted, but Laura's sudden irritated expression reminded him of the certain level of denial she still had when it came to the subject.

"Without knowing the extent of how exactly your cells have changed since your cure I realized that I can't be sure that your body would be able to accept a standard blood transfusion at this point."

Laura felt every hair she had suddenly stand up on end.

"You're telling me that my body can't accept human blood?" she pointedly pressed, her narrowed eyes filling with lingering blame.

"I'm not telling you that," Cottle diverted. "I'm telling you that I'm not sure."

Laura let out a huff and fell limply back onto her pillows. She cringed as her strained lower back achingly adjusted.

If her body could no longer accept human blood then what the hell did that make her?

"There's only one donor I know for certain you could take a transfusion from without risk and-"

"Don't," Laura suddenly snapped, obstructing the rest of the doctor's words "Don't even say it. Don't even hint at it. I don't want her touched for my sake ever again. Understand me?"

Cottle let out a rumbling groan.

"It's something we'll have to better examine once we have the resources again. Never mind that now," he said, pushing past the subject. "You've done fine without a transfusion. You're on an IV antibiotic and some fluids. Fever is gone which means it was probably due to a hormonal reaction rather than an infection, but we'll keep you on the antibiotic for the rest of the day to be safe. How are you feeling?"

Laura swallowed against the rawness in her throat.

"Like I've been hit by a bus," she replied.

"Normal," Cottle nodded, picking up her chart from the bedside cart and scanning the notes left by the midwife.

"How are they by the way?" she asked as he read.

"How are who?"

"Maya and Isis."

"Back home as far as I've heard," the doctor shrugged, holding back a remark about her propensity to worry about virtually everything other than her own damn health. "Your injury has been repaired but the normal postpartum bleeding is going to last a few more weeks," he went on, forcing the topic of conversation back to her recovery. "The sutures inside the birth canal will dissolve on their own."

Laura let out a long shaky breath and closed her red rimmed eyes.

"Sherman, I frakked up," she told him as she pinched at the bridge of her nose.

Cottle looked up from the chart, brows lowered.

"Nonsense. You did remarkably well. Tears are common," he assured her.

As far as he was concerned she'd done a brilliant job, better than he'd ever expected and he was damn proud of her.

"No. Not that," she lamented, shaking her head with a pained expression. "Down in the bunker. I frakking said her name."

The lines on Cottle's face deepened in confusion.

"Whose name? What the hell are you talking about?"

Laura kept her eyes shut, allowing herself to feel the sting of the tears that began to well behind her swollen lids.

"At one point I asked Ellen Tigh about Maya and Isis. Only I didn't say Isis," she admitted. "I was in pain. I was out of my damn mind…and I used her birth name."

Cottle's expression fell as he realized what she meant. She'd called the girl Hera, the name the Eight and Lt. Agathon had given her.

"Oh…I see. And uh…Ellen?" he posed.

Laura let out a sigh, finally opening her eyes to see the doctor's befuddled expression.

"I don't even know if she heard me to be honest," she shrugged, wincing as she palmed at a sudden ache in her too-full breast. "That was when I panicked. I lost my breath and she called you over for help."

Laura kept playing the scene over and over in her mind, each time kicking herself for her own carelessness. She wondered why she'd developed the habit of internally referring to the girl as Hera. She interacted with her as Isis daily. She said her name often as she sang to her or played with her. In fact she was almost sure she'd never once called her Hera out loud. But in her thoughts, dreams and prayers she never thought of her as Isis. In her heart she was Hera. She supposed it was her conscience reminding her of the lie she would never escape.

Cottle's mouth went into a hard line as he watched her silent tears fall.

"Let it go, Laura," he told her as if it were a matter of instruction. "I doubt it even registered. Doubt Ellen ever knew what they called the child to begin with. You shouted every expletive known to man down there. You think she remembers you squeaking out some kid's name?"

"That's not the point, Sherman," Laura argued in exasperation. "The pain, the exhaustion. It got to me and I made a terrible mistake. If the cylons take me and-"

"Just stop it. Understand? You're not doing yourself any favors worrying about this. It's nothing. Nothing at all. You need the energy to recover. You can't beat yourself up over an accidental utterance made during extreme duress. You're only human."

"That's debatable at this point," she said with a snide tilt of her head. "Isn't it?"

Cottle glared back at her for a long moment.

"Ms. Brigid told me lactation is going well so far," he redirected, refusing to indulge her any further.

He watched her shoulders fall in resignation.

"I guess so," she answered.

"Good. Someone will be in to help you with all that shortly. And uh, don't let yourself get too full there," he advised, with a subtle gesture to her newly buxom chest. "It can cause painful engorgement and mastitis and then you'll be back to swearing like a sailor in no time."

Laura pulled her blankets up over herself scowling at the reference to her recently transformed figure.

So much had changed with the moon.

"Listen, Laura," he said, ignoring her irritation, his voice suddenly much lower and his tone serious. "Any staff of mine approved to come through this curtain already knows the deal. The rest, the ones who aren't in the loop, they've now been told that you lost and delivered the baby overnight. At least within the clinic the story is out. Your written records also indicate a placental abruption and stillbirth. I just want you to be prepared-"

"I understand," she said, cutting him off.

She was dreading the first condolences she would soon get. What would she say in return?

"I'll be back later, young lady," Cottle told her before clearing his throat. "Oh, and one more thing; you have a visitor."

"Who?" Laura asked, attempting to sit up a bit straighter in the bed.

"Your insufferable personal cheerleader," he grumbled as he opened the curtain and leaned out. "You can send her back," he told someone on the other side.

Cottle turned to face Laura again.

"I'll see if I can speed up the nurse who's supposed to come help you with that contraption. Just remember to rest when you can. Take advantage of the fact that you're able," he said as he turned to leave.

"Miss me, handsome?" Ellen Tigh causticly greeted, appearing between the curtain break to block his exit with an antagonistic smirk.

She was still annoyed with him over making her stay behind in the bunker and he wasn't all that excited to see her again either.

"Don't stay too long," he griped, as he pushed past her.

"Oh, go take a smoke break."

"Banshee."

"Crab."

They bickered as the doctor took his leave.

"Hey, mama," Ellen greeted Laura with a wide eyed smile before her jaw suddenly dropped.

"My gods!" she gawked. "Your tits look amazing!"

Laura's eyes rolled and her hand went to her forehead in exasperation.

"Get in here," she scolded in a harsh irritated whisper. "And close that curtain."

Ellen did as she was told before sauntering over.

"Bill's got all sorts of fun surprises to come back to," she continued to tease.

"Honestly, Ellen, I've taught teen boys who behaved better than you," Laura sighed.

"Fine," Ellen relented as she perched herself on the edge of the bed. "I won't stare…anymore…once I get used to them."

Laura's expression was unmoved by the continued ribbing.

"I'm sorry," Ellen finally conceded. "I know you can't be in any mood to joke around. It's just a habit I have. Laugh to keep the tears away, ya know?"

"It's okay," Laura said, offering her a small smile.

Crass as Ellen was, she was genuinely thankful to see her.

"I'm so glad you're alright," Ellen said, reaching for Laura's hand. "I was so worried."

"I'm fine," Laura shrugged. "So they say."

"Well, you look great," Ellen insisted. "Really. When I last saw you your face was as flushed and you were burning up. I mean we heard you were better. Meri sent word to Tory and she's been keeping us updated, but I'm so relieved to see for myself. Ishay says you've been asking for me?"

"Yes," Laura nodded.

"I tried to come with you when they brought you here but that old bastard wouldn't let me. Frakker."

"It's alright, Ellen. How's Saul?"

"He's okay. He's home. For now, at least. He was so glad he got to see the baby before…" Ellen stopped herself. "Anyway, did you need something? Ishay didn't say."

"No. No, Ellen. I just wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me. I don't know if I could have gotten through it without-"

"Oh of course you could have," Ellen insisted, before Laura could finish. "I didn't do anything special. You had that all within you. I was just along for the ride."

Laura wasn't sure that was true, though she appreciated the expression of confidence. She was so overwhelmed by the selflessness and tenacity of the small group of women who had risked so much for her and her baby. For a moment she could almost remember what it felt like to have sisters. She'd gotten the chance to thank Layne Ishay and Meri Brigid and she knew that once she was home she'd be able to express her gratitude to Maya and Tory for their constant loyalty and friendship, but she'd wanted the chance to thank Ellen most of all. Out of all of them Ellen Tigh had truly been the most unexpected godssend.

"No, Ellen," Laura shook her head. "It was more than that. And not just last night. I mean this whole time. All these months. From the start you've been the only one who made me feel as though this was a blessing instead of a burden. Right or wrong, I'm grateful."

"Of course it's a blessing," Ellen asserted, her brows coming together intently. "Frak anyone who says any different. Don't let anyone make you feel guilty for wanting your baby, Laura," she said looking into her eyes with a deep sincerity. "I know he'll be ok until you can take him back. He's in good hands. You just take care of yourself so you'll be ready."

Laura bit at her lip, taking in the rallying cry of positivity. Besides wanting to thank Ellen there was another reason why she'd been asking for her all day.

"About that, Ellen…" she began.

"Hm?"

"When Ishay took him…when they left…you said you knew where-"

"I'm sorry," Ellen preemptively interjected. "I know that I'm not supposed to have that information. I overheard Saul and the Doc one day when we were setting things up in the mine. Sometimes they talk and they forget I'm there," she shrugged. "But you have my word that I won't tell another soul. I just didn't know what else to say to you. I couldn't bear seeing you like that. I just wanted to give you something that might make you feel some sense of comfort."

Looking down at where their hands were joined Laura thought of just how tightly she'd gripped onto Ellen for hours and hours. She never complained once, no matter how hard her fingers were being crushed.

The sting of shame began to burn at Laura's cheeks. She hadn't asked her about the baby's location because she was worried that she knew classified information. She'd asked because she thought Ellen might reveal it to her. In a moment of weakness she'd considered taking advantage of the woman's sympathy.

Not knowing exactly where her child was located was proving to be far harder than Laura had expected. Once she'd remembered that Ellen had claimed to know where he was, the thought of asking her for his location had been nagging at her for most of the day.

But there was a reason she wasn't supposed to know. Knowing would compromise so much of what everyone had worked hard to put into place for her baby's protection. She couldn't jeopardize everything just to soothe herself.

Laura nodded, accepting Ellen's explanation and dropping the topic.

"Ellen, are people starting to talk?" she asked, her expression turned pained in anticipation of the answer.

"A little," Ellen admitted. "We've been trying to catch up on sleep, so we haven't been out much, but well, once I got here…"

Much of the clinic staff, especially the civilian medics, had been whispering about the former president's tragic loss while Ellen was waiting for Cottle to call her back. She'd even witnessed a nurse burst into tears upon hearing the news when she'd arrived for her shift.

It was going to affect people greatly.

Laura Roslin had been their guiding leader through their most uncertain days and so many had come to trust her with their own children's day to day safety and education. News that she was expecting had been a great surprise to many, but it had also become a symbol of hope; emboldened even more so by the general assumption that Admiral Adama was the child's father. It had even renewed hope in the fleet returning, as if Adama would be coming back if only to save his son. Ellen could already tell that the baby's supposed death was going to throw the entire settlement into a state of collective mourning.

"Gods I don't know if I can take this," Laura winced.

"I know it's awful but it's a necessary lie," Ellen attempted to console her. "You'll get through it. I already know you can get through anything for him. I've seen you do it."

Laura looked up, wiping a tear from her eye.

"You've been so kind to me, Ellen. I'm sorry I feel like I haven't been nearly as considerate to you."

"It's all water under the bridge, Laura," Ellen dismissed with a wink.

"You remember when you first came aboard Galactica and I suspected that you might be a cylon," Laura prompted.

"Oh, yes," Ellen giggled. "Imagine a bunch of copies of me around?" she teased, putting her hand under her chin to frame her face.

"It was a crazy time," Laura recounted, cracking a smile. "You sort of showed up out of nowhere. We had to be so careful. Still, for what it's worth, last night you showed me the most powerful example of human compassion that I've ever witnessed."

Ellen's eyes welled with hot tears. She was glad to know that her attendance had been so deeply appreciated even though Laura would never understand what being present for the birth had truly meant to her.

"And you showed me the most powerful example of a mother's love that I've ever witnessed," she whispered in return, her voice mostly stolen by the sudden wave of emotion.

Laura wiped more tears from her cheeks.

"I'm just so thankful," she said again.

Ellen smiled and gave her hand a soft squeeze.

"So am I."

NEW CAPRICAN CYLON RESIDENTIAL BUILDING:

LEOBEN CONOY'S FLAT

Silence had never really bothered Kara. As a child she'd grown used to being by herself. So many evenings her mother worked late or stayed out to drink at the pub. Kara would spend as long as she could at her after school program, something free she qualified for as a child of a Fleet veteran. After it closed in the late afternoon, with nowhere else to go, she'd take the bus home and make her way up the three flights of outdoor stairs that wrapped around her housing complex. Once inside she would lock the door behind herself and sink into the quiet of the little apartment. She'd do her homework or draw in her notebooks. If her mother had remembered to pay the cable bill sometimes she'd watch some TV with the volume turned way down low so that the crazy old lady in the apartment below wouldn't bang on the ceiling with her cane. Many nights she'd feed herself with cheese sandwiches or cereal and then give herself a bath. After laying out her school clothes for morning she'd get under a blanket on the sofa, never her bed if she was alone. For some reason the sofa felt safer. She'd close her eyes and rest, only letting herself fall to sleep once she finally heard the click of the door as her mother undid the locks. Her mother's return wasn't exactly a comfort but it at least ended the anxiety Kara felt wondering when she would be back.

The barracks had been difficult to get used to when she'd first moved out and enlisted. She was never alone anymore and nothing was ever quiet.

Though she suddenly had friends all around her she often missed the times of silent solitude she'd been accustomed to, lonely as it had been. When she'd finally moved off base and into her own loft she'd found a new sense of ease. The time she spent alone wasn't the isolation of her youth but a privacy of her choosing. She painted or she wrote, she created without fear and she let herself sleep soundly without waiting for the frakking door to click. When she fell in love with Zack and they lived together for a time she loved their quiet weekend mornings. Back from their sunrise run they'd sip coffee and read, nap or tidy up. She found warmth and peace in their shared calm. When he died she'd retreated back into herself, needing the old seclusion away from facing the world. She'd gone back to what she'd learned as a child; get home, feed yourself, wash yourself, rest and get by. She'd been able to endure the months of grief practiced in a keen sense of silent survival.

But this, this quiet isolation, this silence and solitude was quickly killing her. It wasn't a means of endurance, it wasn't an escape from the chaos and it was as far from peace as she'd ever been. It was nothing but soul crushing oppressive confinement. She saw no one but her captor except for those she could make out behind the window panes stories below; all cylons, she presumed. The Two gave her scant news from the outside and what he did tell her couldn't be trusted. For the first few weeks she'd begged him to tell her if Sam was okay and once he did she realized that the pleading had all been for nothing. She didn't believe a damn thing he said.

Under a blanket on the sofa as if she were ten years old again she flinched as she heard the lock on Leoben's apartment door click.

Her heart went into her throat as it opened. She was no longer alone.

Kara's fists clenched under the covers as the door slammed shut.

"Took you long enough this time," she forced herself to snark aloud without getting up to face him.

It was the third time she'd killed him since he'd kidnapped her. She'd caught him off guard, this time in the kitchen, coming up behind him and breaking his neck in a single move. It had taken her two days to gather up the nerve to do it. He'd left her without much to use for weapons and so she'd told herself it would have to be at her own hands. It was a military maneuver she'd learned but never actually used before and she had no idea if she'd be able to pull it off. She tried not to think about what the consequences would be if she failed the attempt. She'd gone over it in her head a hundred times and when he went to get something from the kitchen cooler she saw her opportunity, realizing that he'd have his back fully turned. She would only get a day or so away from him but it was worth it. A day away from his constant spectral sermons, his meandering diatribes of love, fate and God's plan and the bullshit piety he preached morning, noon and night. She'd told herself that she desperately needed a break and so she broke his frakking neck.

It had made a satisfying sort of popping crunch that told her she'd succeeded in doing it right. When Leoben dropped to the floor she'd left him there and then had her first decent night's sleep since the last time she'd killed him. To her surprise he'd stayed away longer than usual.

"I had some things to take care of before I came back home," Leoben said, staring down at her on the sofa.

"Your body's starting to stink," she dryly replied, still curled under the blanket.

She'd said it to taunt him but it was in fact rapidly becoming a problem. Every time she killed him she was left behind a locked door with his corps and no way to get rid of it. It was a downside to the reprieves his download time gave her.

"I know you think this is just a game, Kara, but imagine for a moment if you had to haul your own dead body away to be disposed of. Ever think of that?" he posed, boring into her eyes as he always did.

He never simply looked at her, making a consistent point to appear as though he was peering past her body and into her soul. She felt drained by his gaze, almost as much as the performative prose that came out of his mouth.

She knew within days his manic mind games would have her feeling defeated again. For now, renewed by the extra rest she'd gotten, she felt more indignant and ready to vex him.

Kara smirked at his question with a certain smugness that she knew got under his skin; something she used on him whenever her humanity was put up against the limits of his mechanics.

"I do have feelings, ya know," he told her.

"You're a toaster," she pointedly returned. "That's why I left you in the kitchen with the rest of the shitty appliances."

Leoben bitterly chuckled under his breath.

"You keep saying that and yet I know you understand that one has nothing to do with the other. Deep down you know emotions aren't exclusive to your race."

Kara looked back at him as if they were playing high stakes Triad, her expression deadpanned and her eyes iced over.

"What exploded last night?" she needled. "Sounded like a good one."

She'd been sleeping so soundly for once, her body finally allowing itself to rest without having to be on guard. Since her abduction she'd slept with one eye open, the looming presence of her unwanted companion making it impossible for her to ever let her guard down. For months she'd been living with constant anxiety and exhaustion. As she deeply dozed away on the sofa she'd been awoken by a sudden boom. It was quickly followed by a second that roused her to her feet. Though she could hear some commotion following the noise, the proximity of the next cylon building made it impossible for her to see much of anything beyond it. All she could see was the glowing orb of the full moon shining above the buildings in the inky New Caprican sky.

She'd been decently confident it was an insurgency attack and she went back to sleep comforted in knowing they were still out there fighting back.

"That explosion was what delayed me after my download," the Two complained. "Ground transpo facility. Your friends value life as little as you seem to. Difference is, you know better," he lectured before turning on his heels to head toward the morbid site in the kitchen.

"Ground transpo," Kara echoed with pride. "Good shot, Colonel," she mused to herself.

Leoben stopped in his tracks just as he made it to where his lifeless feet were sticking out of the entryway.

With an arched brow he looked over at her.

"I'll let my brother's and sisters know that you suggest we charge him with the crime."

NEW CAPRICAN COLONIAL MEDICAL TENT

Ellen left the clinic when one of Meri's assistants arrived to help Laura with her pump. After filling a couple of bottles and agreeing to eat a small meal Laura fell asleep again.

She'd only gotten about an hour's rest before she woke up to another visitor.

"Laura?" a voice called her name, softly rousing her from the brief nap.

Her eyes fluttered open only to quickly squeeze shut again against the still present stinging and swelling. Ishay had given her some saline drops but said it would just take time for it all to calm down.

"Laura," the voice called again.

"Yes?" she answered, rubbing her eyes even though she'd been told not to.

Laura looked up expecting to find a nurse or medic there to change her IV or take her vitals. What she found, once her eyes adjusted to the light, was a bleary-eyed cylon Six standing sullen in the curtain break.

Laura's blood ran cold as everything she dreaded most came surging to the surface. That was it. They'd found out. They probably already had her son in custody and now they were going to punish her for trying to hide him. This was the penance that she couldn't elude. She'd always known that one day she'd have to answer for what she'd done to the Agathons and she supposed there was no greater cosmic justice to be had than for her baby to be taken the way she'd taken another mother's child. In some ways she felt she deserved it, but her son didn't and his fate would be her fault as he suffered the consequences of her actions.

"Laura I-"

"How did you get back here?" Laura snapped before the Six could say another word.

She knew it was a stupid question. The Six had probably done it the way the cylons did everything; by force. What Laura really meant was 'who did you hurt or threaten to get to me?'

It was the same one. The Six who called herself Caprica. The one who had been keeping tabs on her for months. She knew it. Godsdamn it, why did she know it? It wasn't just the genuinely forlorn look on the statuesque blonde's face or the fact that she'd been the only Six to tend to her from the start. Laura knew that anyone could surmise as much from context clues. This was different and she was finally able to admit it to herself. She could recognize them, differentiate one cylon from the other. She'd done it with Sharon Valerii and with D'Anna Biers too. She'd even started to be able to detect the doctor they called Simon whenever they brought her into their hospital, but none of that had been enough for her to truly come to terms with it. Her denial over possessing the strange ability had recently come to an end when she'd noticed a random Five patrolling the marketplace six straight days in a row. He'd been posted at the back of the vendor area silently observing the market accompanied by a mostly stationary centurion. The first four days it was the same copy. On the fifth day, identical as he was, Laura knew without a doubt that it was a different Five on duty. On the sixth day when the original Five returned Laura became sick to her stomach over just how easily she could tell. There was no more denying it or making excuses.

Now as sure as she could tell Doc Cottle from a fifth grade girl she could tell that it was Caprica Six who was at the foot of her bed.

The Six stared at her, eyes red and cheeks damp.

"Laura-" she began again, her voice tightened with sorrow.

"Get out," Laura demanded, the words coming out as if they were spurned from a smoldering fire within.

The cylon woman shook her head, not in refusal but in a gesture of utter disbelief.

"Is it really true?" she asked, sniffling back more tears.

Laura's fists clenched at her sides. The Six had been an enigma to her for some time now. She'd assumed early on that the apparent compassion and concern the cylon had consistently shown her had to be part of some kind of planned manipulation tactic. There were just so many instances that were too odd to have been expected to gain trust or any sense of amiability. Laura could still remember when she'd noticed the Six brought to tears as she watched the baby moving on the screen of Simon's ultrasound machine. It was too unsettling to be a performance meant to inspire compliance.

Even stranger than Laura's ability to tell the cylons apart was that sometimes she felt as if she could sense their intent. For some reason, though she still refused to trust her, Caprica Six had never quite filled her with the dread that the others did.

"Leave right now," Laura sneered. She had no idea what the cylon women knew so far, but she seemed distressed and even saddened. All Laura could do was insist upon the cover story until she knew what the cylons had found out. "I don't have a godsdamn thing left to lose! If you don't get out of here you'll wish you had!" she threatened.

Caprica's face crumpled.

"Oh, Laura, please, tell me it's not true," she wept.

She'd heard the baby was dead, Laura decided. At least that much was apparent. Whether or not the rest of the cylons knew, they would soon.

"Get out," she repeated.

"I was praying," the Six cried. "I prayed and prayed. I'm so sorry."

Laura watched the cylon woman sobbing into her hands. If the emotional outpourings were in fact a con she had to admit the Six was outstanding at it. She seemed so genuinely distraught and sympathetic. It was almost more unnerving than the aggression shown by most other cylons.

"I want to be alone," Laura attempted, hoping that she might just take the implied confirmation and go away.

The Six sharply inhaled, trying to halt her sobs.

"They're going to believe that you chose this," she whispered with a hitch in her breath. "I can't help you anymore."

Laura's jaw clenched at the grim warning. She didn't really understand how or why the Six had been claiming to help her, but whether she had been or not the presage still rang true.

"Just leave," she tried again.

Caprica looked at Laura with what appeared to be pure pity in her eyes.

"I can only imagine your pain," she said, wiping at her tears with the pads of her long trembling fingers. "I'm so very sorry for your loss, Laura. I just wish that I could have helped you both," she offered before finally turning and disappearing through the curtains.

NEW CAPRICAN COLONIAL TENT CITY

The cold air hit Caprica's wet burning cheeks as she rushed out of the medical tent with a gasp. She'd done her best to hold back the true extent of her deep regret in front of Roslin. It all came flooding out as she'd hurriedly made her way out of the clinic past the fearful staff who witnessed her sob-wracked exit.

The dreadful news had gotten to Gaius' office less than an hour before. Felix Gaeta arrived with word that there was a rumor quickly spreading throughout the encampment; Laura Roslin had lost her baby.

Caprica refused to believe it at first. Gaeta had no credible source. It was grapevine gossip and she wouldn't accept it on hearsay alone. He'd told them that he heard she was recovering at the clinic.

Without explanation Caprica rushed out of Colonial I and toward the settlement. As she trudged to the medical tent the shock and disbelief began to wear off. She'd been awake for almost two days awaiting word of the child's birth. She'd been almost relieved that there had been no news, believing it to be a good sign that Roslin was able to deliver her child in peace. She'd been praying to God and anxiously anticipating the announcement, all the while doing her best not to let on that she knew a thing.

The further Caprica walked the more it began to sink in. The pregnancy had been a precarious one to start. Roslin had more than a few elements stacked against her and the Colonials were limited when it came to medical resources. It wasn't unimaginable that something had gone wrong, in fact it was probable. Her tears began to flow and by the time she'd arrived at the infirmary tent her eyes were red, her nose was running and her cheeks were flushed. She realized she'd left without her coat, let alone a weapon or any kind of backup to gain entry to see the former Colonial president. To her surprise she hadn't needed it.

She'd rushed inside in such a frenzied state that she'd made it halfway through the facility before someone who wasn't totally confounded and frozen by fear at the sight of her spoke up. When the brave medic tried to discourage her from going any further and refused to point her to Roslin's curtain, Caprica charged past him, daring anyone to stop her as she yanked open every drape she passed. She finally found Laura, far from the rest of the patients, tucked in the back of the infirmary fast asleep. Caprica looked back down the hall at the distraught medical staff who'd trailed her through the clinic.

"I'm not here to cause her any trouble," she softly but gravely told the nearest nurse. "I have a centurion outside. Don't make me call it in," she finished with a false threat before stepping into the gap of the curtain.

As Caprica watched Roslin sleeping with her hand resting upon her now empty belly her heart sank like lead in her chest.

As enraged as Roslin had reacted to her presence, Caprica so badly wished that she could have embraced the poor grieving mother in her arms and given her some sense of comfort.

She imagined that losing a child had to be a fate worse than death itself and she wondered how anyone could go on after such devastation. So often she flashed back to the moments before the first nukes hit Caprica City, the moment she'd held the tiny infant at the park. She'd thought only of his fate when she'd reached down and snapped his precious little neck. In that moment she couldn't bear leaving him to endure what was coming. She hadn't known enough then to think of the agony she'd inflicted on his poor mother. Now she prayed the women had died in the attacks soon after and that her grief and suffering had ended swiftly.

Caprica aimlessly walked the tent rows, too fraught to miss her coat despite the cold. She didn't know where to go next. Gaius would surely only make her feel worse and she couldn't bear to hear the rantings of her kin now that the word had undoubtedly reached them. She felt so lost and so very angry with herself.

She should have gone to Roslin the moment she'd seen her laboring under the light of that sorcerous moon. She should have offered help, gotten her to the Cylon hospital, alerted someone. At least then maybe the child might have had a chance.

She'd thought she was doing the right thing by leaving her alone. Now the baby boy was gone.

"What's the matter with you?" a voice chastised as its body cut her off mid step.

Caprica let out a short yelp, startled by D'Anna's sudden appearance.

"What the frak is your problem, Six?" the Three squinted.

"You startled me for frak sake," Caprica defended.

"I've been calling after you for half a row. You weren't answering. I had to get your attention somehow," D'Anna justified as she looked her sister up and down with a cold critical eye. "Why so glum?"

"How can you ask me that?" Caprica bit, offended by the Three's indifference.

"Oh. The child," D'Anna replied with a sigh. "Right. Listen, that's why I was looking for you. You and I are on baby patrol, it seems."

"What?" Caprica scowled.

"Grab yourself a pair of centurions. Cavil wants us to inspect every Colonial dwelling we can. Especially those known to already have children or babies living within them. There's a chance the Roslin baby isn't dead at all. Maybe it's just hidden away somewhere."

Cavil was irate over the news, as were many others and though D'Anna was far from pleased with her assignment she was glad to be away from the Cylon administration buildings for a while.

"I don't think so," Caprica shook her head.

"Well, whatever you think, we need to look for a male infant. One who looks as if he could have been born this week. Anyone with a child who fits the description is to be arrested onsite and you're to take custody of the baby to be brought to the laboratory for confirmation."

"Now?"

"Yes bloody now," D'Anna rolled her eyes. "Do you have something better to do?"

Caprica said nothing, looking away from the Three's scrutinizing glare.

"Are you armed?"

"No," the Six begrudgingly answered.

"Let's head to the east weapons cache first. It's closest to the Centurion repository."

"I really think he's gone, D'Anna," Caprica maintained, trying to hold back a new bout of tears.

She didn't want to go door to door scaring women and children in search of a baby she believed was already in the arms of the Lord.

"Well, we're going to find out for sure," the Three shrugged.

"I went to Roslin," Caprica tearfully admitted. "I saw her just minutes ago. She's devastated."

D'Anna's brow rose at the confession.

"Why the frak did you go to see her without speaking with us first?"

For a moment her instincts told her that the others should be informed of the Six's indipendant actions.

The thought quickly faded as she recalled their recent accidental moonlit meeting. D'Anna had left her dormitory to escape her dreams and run into her sister wandering around just as peculiarly. There had been a sort of unspoken agreement to keep the encounter to themselves before the explosions occurred, distracting them both from the oddity of finding one another out and about in the dead of night. Somehow it had left D'Anna with lingering feelings of both loyalty and debt toward her sister. Though she didn't quite understand why, she thought better of outing Caprica's visit to Roslin.

"You should have let someone know," she reiterated, maintaining her outward stance.

"Do you want to be around John right now?" Caprica sharply posed. D'Anna crossed her arms and gave her an indignant expression but her lack of a verb response said enough. "I didn't want to believe the rumor. I just wound up there. I had to see for myself. If you saw Roslin you'd know. I could nearly physically feel her grief."

It was almost as if she'd been standing before one of her sisters in the clinic. Without Laura saying much at all the woman's despair was palpable. Caprica could never read Gaius in such a way and she considered how truly colossal the pain of a human would have to be for her to feel it emanating from them. She had not thought it possible before, but she was sure what she'd felt in the clinic was more than just her own sympathy and sadness.

"She's not to be trusted," D'Anna charged, her patience wearing thin. "None of them are. Sharon's headed to Roslin as we speak to try and find out what really happened."

"Oh for frak sake!" Caprica swore. "Think of what she just went through! Can't they just give her some frakking time!?"

"Why? You didn't," D'Anna challenged. "You just said you went there. Mighty hypocritical, don't you think?"

Flustered by a sudden rush of guilt, Caprica struggled to find her words.

"But- But I wasn't-"

"Save it, Six," D'Anna dismissed her stammering. "It won't take much for us to at least make sure she's not hiding him in plain sight. Let's just get this over with."

Resigning herself to her charge Caprica bowed her head. Looking at her boots she dug them into the damp soil.

"I wish she would have just taken my help," she lamented.

"It's her own fault, Six," D'Anna insisted, offering her sister an uncharacteristically supportive hand to the shoulder as they began to walk. "She knew the risks. She could have had constant monitoring and advanced care. She chose to muck about in the dirt over here and rely on that old coot for a physician. How much did she care for that baby if that's the decision she made?" D'Anna contested, causing Caprica to flinch at the thought. "And if you ask me it's our fault as well. If this baby was so important we shouldn't have given her a choice. Serves us all right."

For a while they walked down the rows of the settlement drafting their search strategy as they headed toward the Cylon arms cache.

"Her tent," Caprica said, abruptly stopping in her tracks and interrupting D'Anna's planning mid-sentence.

"What?" D' Anna scowled, pausing beside her.

"Roslin's tent," the Six repeated, pointing further down the row. "Look."

A good fifty feet away stood Laura Roslin's tent. Beside its closed entrance was a cluster of objects set against the canvas.

In her anxious anticipation of the news of the child's birth, Caprica had taken an early morning stroll through the encampment purposefully passing by Roslin's tent in hopes of seeing some sign of activity. Whatever was sitting in front of the humble dwelling hadn't been there at the time.

"What are you doing?" Caprica called after D'Anna as the Three continued toward the area of interest.

"What's it look like I'm doing?" she balked, shooting the Six an acerbic glare over her shoulder. "You said look. I'm going to look."

Reluctantly Caprica followed but the two didn't have to walk much further before they could make the scene out clearly enough.

Beside Roslin's threshold was an accumulation of various items all set at the foot of a knee high wooden statue of the goddess Leto. Dried flowers and prayer beads, burnt candles and polished stones, folded notes and deity cards all sat tucked and piled around the carved figure. On a small wooden crate nearby sat a little clay angel, some bottles of what appeared to be holy water and a few fragrant incense cones still burning upon a large opened seashell. Half a dozen miniature Colonial flags had been stuck in the surrounding dirt encircling the display like tiny patriotic fence posts.

Despite the cylon women's limited knowledge of culture and tradition it was fairly obvious that they were looking at a makeshift memorial site.

"Who do you suppose did all that?" D'Anna asked as they surveyed the items from a discreet distance.

Caprica felt her heart plummet even deeper in her chest as she noticed what looked to be a crudely scrawled note written in crayon.

"Her people," she replied through a whimper. "Her people did this. They must have started to leave these things at her door once the news got out."

The impromptu memorial had been started just hours before by a neighbor; a sculptress from Scorpia. She'd been working on the figure of Leto, goddess of motherhood, for weeks intending on giving it as a Temple donation. It depicted the goddess in the traditional Hellenic stance with a baby in each of her arms wrapped up in her shawl; her twins Artemis and Apollo. Upon hearing the heartbreaking news of the death of Roslin's child the sculptress had been moved to take it to her tent instead.

When a former presidential cabinet staffer passed by the tent after learning of the awful report he'd noticed Leto and felt compelled to take his Geminese prayer beads from his pocket and hang them around the statue's neck. Soon as the word spread and others took notice of the display people began to add to it; lighting votives or bringing notes and cards expressing their deepest sympathies.

"Stay back," Caprica suddenly warned.

"Huh?" D'Anna grimaced.

Following her sister's line of vision she spotted a woman with a young girl in tow heading in the direction of Roslin's tent.

"I don't want to scare them off," Caprica whispered, grabbing D'Anna by the jacket and tugging her back so they were both tucked between two other structures out of clear view.

From there they watched the pair approach the sad little shrine.

With her child holding onto her skirt the woman stepped in front of the display. For a solemn quiet moment she stared down at the statue of the goddess Leto with her cherubic babes in hand. Welling with emotion the woman bent down to lay her palm on the figure and murmured a prayer.

When she was done she turned to her daughter and scooped the little girl up into her arms. She held onto her tightly as she swayed to and fro in a visceral reminder of how blessed she was to still have her baby with her after all that they'd been through. When she relaxed her grip the child leaned back to observe her.

The girl reached out to touch her mother's face and clumsily wiped the tears from her cheeks.

After another moment or so the woman placed the little girl back on the ground and gave her a nod of encouragement. Facing the memorial the child unzipped her jacket reaching in and pulling out a small stuffed bear. With her mother's reassuring hand at her back the girl took her toy and added it to the arrangement.

Caprica and D'Anna observed as mother and child linked hands and then walked off back down the dirt path.

Once she felt they were far enough away Caprica headed for Roslin's tent.

"Wait," D'Anna called, trailing behind.

Caprica arrived at the site with a lump in her throat. Her weary eyes scanned every item and she considered, as she looked at the worn little bear, that the girl who'd left it had to be one of Roslin's youngest students.

"A pile of false idols and glorified tinder," D'Anna muttered, though she said it almost as if she were trying to convince herself that was all that it was.

"It's a collective gesture of sympathy," Caprica argued. "It's human compassion."

D'Anna observed the statue; a child in each of its hands. Two angelic little beings. For a moment she thought she could hear the sounds of her dream. The cries of two babies being carried away by the crosswinds.

Taking a step back she shook the thought from her head.

They needed to get on their way.

"Enough of this. We have work to do. John wants us to report back as soon as we're through. You take the east half of the encampment. I'll take the west," she instructed but Caprica's eyes remained downcast at the statue.

"How awful," she began to openly weep again. "How she must have felt to lose him before she even got to see him."

"Save your tears, Caprica," D'Anna said, reaching out to take her by the arm. "At least for now."

NEW CAPRICAN COLONIAL MEDICAL TENT

"Madam President, I'm sorry," Ishay exclaimed with wide worried eyes as she stood between Laura's bed and a pair of cylon Fives. They had forced their way into the clinic with Boomer and a Two not long after Carpica's exit. Unlike the Six they'd actually brought weapons and backup. "We couldn't keep them out. The others took Doc Cottle into the back room at gunpoint."

"Godsdamn it," Laura swore under her breath.

"They say they'll leave after they speak with you," Ishay added, her eyes moving frantically between Roslin and the double intruders.

"We'll do the rest of the talking," one of the Fives spoke up. "You can go."

"Ma'am?" Ishay questioned with a furrowed brow, unsure if she should really leave.

She badly wanted to go check on the doctor but she knew he'd want her with their patients instead.

"Go ahead, Layne," Laura replied with an affirming nod that told the young medic she'd be okay without her.

Ishay hesitated to leave. There was a bullethead waiting just beyond the curtain, another toward the clinic entrance and two other skin-jobs who had forced Cottle into the supply room. No matter where she went a cylon would be looming close by. With clenched fists she finally moved to leave, telling herself that she needed to check on the frightened patients who had witnessed the infiltration. She looked back once more, checking Roslin's composure before she decidedly slipped through the curtains.

"What the frak do you want?" Laura snarled once she was gone.

"What happened to your son, Ms. Roslin?" one of the Fives began to interrogate.

"He's dead," she claimed for the first time. During the Six's visit she'd never actually said it out loud. The words felt like poison on her tongue and her heart began to pound in her chest. "Now get out."

"When did this happen?" the same Five questioned, while the other stood by his side like a useless matching bookend.

"That's none of your frakking business," Laura derided.

She stared back at each of them with piercing contempt as they both seemed to be scanning her appearance, almost as if they couldn't quite tell if she was still pregnant under the bulky sheets and oversized hospital gown.

"We're going to find out anyway from your doctor," the other copy finally spoke up. "He's being questioned as we speak, so why don't you just tell us in your own words?"

Laura bit down hard on her tongue until she couldn't stand it anymore.

"The other night," she begrudgingly answered. "He was stillborn. Now leave me alone to grieve him in peace and leave the rest of these poor people be. They're trying to take care of their patients."

"Where's his body?" the first Five coldly probed, ignoring her scolding.

"Frak you!" Laura snapped.

She was finding her responses to be less performative than she'd expected. Just the implication of her son being deceased sent waves of real grief and anger through her body. Her answers might be lies but the emotion fueling her words was unfeigned.

"If we find out that you had anything, anything at all to do with the demise of this child you'll be answering for it," the cylon warned.

"How dare you!" Laura roared in response. "How dare you imply I had something to do with the loss of my child. If you're here to take me then just frakking do it and leave the doctor and his staff the frak alone! If not then frak off! I have nothing to say to any of you!" she declared, fully intending on making it her last statement to the pair.

At this point they were either going to arrest her or not. There was no reason to waste energy she didn't have on the set of grim toaster twins.

"We'll be back," one of them pledged before they turned in tandem, leaving Laura behind.

NEW CAPRICAN COLONIAL MEDICAL TENT:

SUPPLY AND STORAGE ROOM

"C'mon, you old goat, let's hear it," Boomer prompted, holding her weapon inches from her former doctor's forehead.

"Lt. Valerii?" Cottle suddenly tested, his thick brows rising in realization as he looked up at her from where she'd sat him on an old folding chair in the supply room.

"How'd ya guess?" she smirked.

After treating the other Sharon aboard Galactica Cottle had learned enough to understand they weren't all quite the same.

"Your charming personality," the doctor quipped.

Sharon's glare turned resentful and she angled her weapon down toward him.

"Very funny," she heckled.

It was strange to be in the presence of the physician again. She found it unexpectedly unnerving to look him in the eye. It wasn't just because he had been her superior officer at one point or even that he'd seen every inch of her body a dozen times over for physicals. What she couldn't stop thinking of was the last time she'd been with him on Galactica in LifeStation with a hole in her face that she'd put there herself. She'd never felt so low, so hopeless. As gruff as Doc Cottle had always been, that time he'd been gentle with her. He'd seen right through her lie about cleaning her sidearm. He'd shown true concern and even sadness that she'd gotten to such a dire state. At the time she couldn't help but be dismissive and cynical toward his offers of help and advice but she'd still recognized his kindness. Now as she pointed her gun at him she just wished that she could forget the way he'd looked at her that day, as if he wished he could fix her frakked up mind as easily as he'd mended her cheek.

"Where's the Old Man's baby?" she demanded, her tone growing far more forceful.

"I don't appreciate that gun in my face," Cottle returned with his familiar obstinance.

"Fine," Sharon said, taking the weapon out of his line of vision and then moving beside him.

"Where is he?" she probed again, as she held the gun to his temple instead.

Cottle swallowed. He wondered how Laura was faring, if they'd already taken her, if they were questioning anyone else.

When the cylons arrived it had all been a bit of a blur. Most of his staff were still in a state of high alert following the strange visit by the Six. Then Boomer and her posse arrived, guns drawn. Everything happened so quickly and before the doctor could even make an attempt at speaking out against the invasion of the clinic they were forcing him toward the supply area away from the rest of his staff.

It was time to abandon the banter and tell the story as planned. The faster he could get it over with, the better.

"Dead," he replied simply. "We lost him."

"How?" Sharon scowled. "I thought she was doing okay!"

"She was, for a while," Cottle shrugged, doing his best to seem unshaken by the Eight's aggression. "But she'd already had bleeding and placental issues in the first and second trimesters. That and a host of other factors had her at a high risk for complications. Your doctors examined her. They should have known all that if they had any understanding of the human reproductive system."

As the Major spoke Boomer noticed her grip on her weapon beginning to falter. She didn't really want to be there screaming and shouting about Adama's dead baby. Cottle was right. They should have known something like this was likely, but she and Caprica had insisted that it be dealt with as diplomatically as possible. And for what? An impossible goal she should have given up on already.

Now Cavil was enraged and though she'd believed they were doing the right thing at the time his anger over her backing up her sister instead of him was all Boomer could think about. She hated him and yet she hated to disappoint him, hated being out of his good graces. More than that she hated herself for caring.

"Did Roslin do something?" she interrogated, tightening her hold on her gun.

"No," Cottle asserted, appearing mildly offended by the implication. "She did nothing wrong. She wanted her child to live. What happened to her couldn't be triggered by anything she did or didn't do."

"Then what the frak happened!?"

She at least needed to bring Cavil back some answers. Someone was going to suffer for the fact that they'd continuously fought to outvote him in the handling of the whole ordeal. She didn't want to be the target of his frakking indignation. For someone who claimed to be so proud of being a machine he had an awful lot of humanlike rage.

"She was rushed here in the middle of the night with heavy bleeding," Cottle went on with the fabricated version of events. "I suspected the issue right away from the type of bleed she had going on. I gave her a scan and it confirmed that there had been a complete placental abruption."

"What the hell does that mean?" Boomer grimaced at the term, wishing like hell that she didn't have to hear the graphic explanation.

"The organ which connects the fetus' umbilical cord to the womb and provides blood, nutrients and oxygen had come away from the uterine wall causing the bleeding. Unfortunately it's practically immediately fatal to the unborn baby. He had no heartbeat by the time she got to us. A surgical delivery would have taken too long and caused further blood loss she couldn't afford. Considering how the abruption occurred before she'd even gotten here we knew there was no chance to save him. We stopped the hemorrhage with some clotting medication and induced labor a few hours later when it failed to start on its own."

"Where's the body?" Boomer charged.

If she could obtain it she knew Cavil would be somewhat appeased having the means to at least study its biology.

"It's gone," Cottle lied.

"Gone!? Gone where!?"

"It was brought to a pyer near the river banks hours ago. Roslin's Caprican," he stated, as if it were completely logical.

"You cremated the body!?"

"Yes. Early this morning. You remember our traditions well enough, don't you?" Cottle pressed the former pilot.

Boomer began to internally panic. Capricans almost exclusively cremated children under twelve. It had something to do with the story of Zagreus but she couldn't recall why. The practice was typical of a few other Colonies as well from what she could remember. It was usually done as quickly as possible, traditionally being completed before sunset on the day following the child's death. Now she had nothing to bring John but another reason for him to be infuriated.

"You knew what you were doing!" Boomer accused as her anger and frustrations surged. "You knew the significance of that child!"

"I complied with a grieving mother's religious wishes," Cottle stated.

Boomer shook her head, trying to think quickly

"Blood samples! Tissue samples! You have to have something!"

"The body and the afterbirth was taken to the pyre," the doctor shrugged. "We knew the cause of death. The baby's mother didn't want further testing done. We had no reason to take anything from the body without the mother's consent nor did we have any reason to exploit it for whatever genetic makeup he may or may not have had."

"Frak this!" Sharon shrieked, turning from her stance and spitefully kicking down a surgical cart full of stored metal basins sending it all clattering to the floor.

"What's going on?" the Two called out, rushing in from where he'd been positioned on guard.

Boomer locked eyes with him before realizing that she'd taken her weapon off of the doctor.

"I want Roslin's records!" she exclaimed, pointing the gun back to Cottle's temple. "Everything from the first time you treated her on Galactica up until right now!"

"I need them," the doctor answered, keeping up the charade. "I don't have copies."

"Frak if I care. Just give me what you have!" she urged, pressing the barrel even further into his skin.

"Fine," he relented. "If I have no other choice," he added, fully ready to hand over the falsified chart. "But hear me on this," Cottle began, fairly secure in the fact that for the time being his life was no longer on the line. "Nothing in those files is going to bring that child back, LT. You make sure your new family understands that."

NEW CAPRICAN TENT CITY:

DWELLING OF SAUL & ELLEN TIGH

"Everything's cleaned up down there," Sam said as he slid the Tigh's rug back in place to cover their access hatch. "Back in order, so to speak."

He'd come over to debrief for the night and do one more check of the mining bunker. All of Cottle's equipment had been removed and returned to the clinic. The makeshift platform for the bed had been deconstructed and sat as a pile of lumber behind the Colonel's desk and their com system.

Ellen's ruined rug had been taken down to the river banks to be burned along with the mattress, bed linens and every towel and cloth that was used during labor and delivery so that not a drop of blood or amniotic fluid could be found.

"Thanks again for your help, Sam," Ellen replied, observing him as she let out a long yawn.

"Mmhm," he acknowledged, kicking out a fold in the floor mat.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" she tested, noticing his dismal demeanor.

Since Kara's abduction he'd grown understandably bitter and brooding but Ellen had noticed a recent change. His anger was escalating and his hope was vanishing. It had been a while since they'd sat down and really talked. Ever since she'd lied to him about Cavil for the first time it had become increasingly harder to face him. Facing Saul was hard enough but at least she could tell herself that what she was doing was for him. With Sam it all just felt like lies. Every day that she held her secret she felt more and more dirty and ashamed. It had all gone so far and now she couldn't get out of the hole she'd dug herself into. As much as she missed her talks with Sam she knew she was in no shape to help him in the wretched state she was in herself.

"I'm fine," Sam told her, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out his gloves.

"You sure?" she tested. "You seem kinda off."

"Leave him alone," Saul interceded from where he sat at the table trying to remove a stripped screw from a part off of a scrapped generator. "If the man says he's fine he's fine."

"I'm talking to Sam," Ellen said, dismissing her husband's interruption.

"I'm just worried about you. That's all."

"I know, Elle. It's alright," Sam shrugged, rubbing at his chin. "I guess- I just keep thinking…Kara would get a kick out of hearing she has a kid brother. Ya know?"

Ellen's eyes quickly filled to the brim at the sweetly sad sentiment.

"Oh, Sam," she sniffed.

"Yeah," the Colonel mused, letting out a low reflective chuckle as he continued to fiddle with the broken mechanism. "Yeah, she sure would."

"I should get going," Sam told the couple. "Now that word's out we've all got targets on our backs. Better get home before curfew."

"You be careful," Ellen pleaded.

"I will," Sam nodded to pacify her worries for a moment as if he could really avoid being arrested just by using caution. "G'night, Elle. Colonel."

"Night, Anders," Saul bid as Sam slipped outside.

Ellen went to the tent flap and closed it up for the night while Saul gave up on his futile project and limped over to their bed.

"Gods, I'm still so exhausted," she sighed, turning to follow him toward the section of the tent they slept in.

"It's been a long couple of days," Saul agreed, lowering himself to their mattress with a groan.

"I'll say," she yawned and stretched. "Poor Sam. He misses Kara so much."

"At least he's taking his rage and directing it where it's useful," Saul justified as he laid back onto his pillow.

"They were so happy for a while," Ellen wistfully recounted, taking a seat on the side of their mattress.

"Lie down," Saul told her, reaching his hand out in a warm invitation. Ellen gladly crawled over to him cozying up under his arm. "That's better," he said, putting his lips to her temple.

"I just feel so drained, Saul. You were right," she confessed. "This was all so much harder than I thought it would be."

"You did good, Elle. Laura's lucky she had you."

"I didn't do anything," she shrugged within his embrace. "I was just…there."

"That's not true. You heard the nurse. She said she'd even work with you again if you wanted," Saul pointed out. "Maybe you oughta think about it."

"Are you kidding?" Ellen snorted.

"Not really. You're good at it. You could help a lot of other ladies. Why not?"

Ellen bit at her lip. Once was enough. She was relieved to know that no one seemed to notice how truly difficult the whole night had been for her to get through.

"Somehow the idea of keeping sober and on call to be woken up at all hours of the night so I can get my hand crushed and my ear screamed in doesn't really appeal to me," she kidded, avoiding going any deeper into her reasoning. "This time was special. This was for family."

Saul nodded in agreement. At least for now he felt as if he'd be able to tell Bill that they'd done everything they could to protect his child.

"Gods, I hope that motherfrakker gets his ass back here soon so I can witness the look on his face when he finds out," he said with a wry smirk.

"You've gotta get him drunk first," Ellen snickered.

"There's not enough hooch on this rock to prepare him for this."

The two laughed softly together over the thought before settling into a quiet moment.

Saul rubbed gently at her arm and inhaled the scent of her hair wondering how she still smelled so good when everything around them smelled of mud and smoke.

"You don't think he'll be angry at Laura for keeping the baby, do you?" Ellen asked, breaking the placid pause.

"Angry?" Saul said, clearing his throat. "No. Bill doesn't have it in him. I dunno if he'll be very happy about it, but the kid's already here. He won't be sore at her for that. I'm sure he'll have all sorts of questions though."

Ellen frowned at his answer.

"Laura shouldn't have to explain why she wanted her baby. She has as much right to want a child as anyone else."

"You're right, Elle," Saul passively told her, tightening his embrace so that they were as cozied up as they could be.

"He's so precious. Isn't he, Saul? William. Little Will. Gods, I hope he's doing okay. He must miss his mummy. One second he had her heartbeat drumming in his ears and the next…" she trailed off at the awful memory of the child being taken from his mother's arms.

"Tiny little thing, eh?" Saul added.

"Mmhmm. Meri actually told me they were glad he wasn't any smaller. Laura had trouble gaining weight at the end. Plus he's a bit early."

"Nick was born so big," Saul recounted. "Had to have three pounds on this one easy."

Ellen nodded and the two fell back into an easy silence, glad to be within one another's arms.

Though the moment appeared peaceful Ellen had an unseen war waging inside of her mind.

Through all of his faults she loved her husband deeply and though she truly meant that she would do anything for him the secret price of his freedom was eating her alive. With no end in sight she didn't know how long she could keep it up. The constant dread of what was coming each and every time he was arrested had her both anxious and depressed. She feared it day and night. Nightmares of him being taken taunted her in her sleep. During her waking hours she was plagued by paranoia. Sooner or later Saul was going to find out. Horrid dreams of him being dragged away into the darkness caused her to wake up in a cold sweat most nights. He knew something was off. She'd been seen near the cylon administration building once already. Though she was able to convince Sam it was nothing she knew eventually someone was going to catch on that something was up. She didn't want Saul to have to confront her over the rumors and gossip that was bound to come. He didn't deserve the humiliation. Whether she told him herself or he found out from someone else he was going to be devastated, but at least then it could end.

"Saul, I have to talk to you about something," she fearfully began, unsure of what she was going to say next.

"Bout what?" he asked with a yawn.

"About-"

"Saul Tigh! Come out with your hands up by order of New Caprican Police!"

"Frak," Saul cursed, shooting up from where he lounged despite the pain in his hip.

"No! Not again! No! Saul!" Ellen cried out.

This time she wasn't waking up from the nightmare.

Thank you for your time :-)

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