No Phoenix for Roslin

Chapter 4

[time: current]

When they arrived at Colonial One, Adama exited the shuttle at a trot, Billy close behind him. By the time they rounded the first corner Adama was jogging faster. He was running flat out when they reached Laura's quarters. People jumped aside and stared after them.

At the threshold of her cabin he came to a full stop, panting, the curtain in his hand.
The room was empty but for the still form on the couch that doubled as her bed.

Adama cursed. "Cottle!"

He hardly registered Billy shifting tensely behind his back, but stared at the bed, suddenly afraid of what he'd find.

The President had wrapped herself in a fetal position around one of the large cushions. She seemed to have lost even more weight in the past few days than in all the weeks before. Her eyes were closed, her red hair plastered to her pale face, her slender shoulders bare above the covers, her hands clutching the cushion. She looked ghostly, waxen and lifeless.

Billy had reported her dying an hour ago. Was she dead now? Adama briefly closed his eyes and swallowed.

Billy wormed past him and quickly moved over to the woman.

"Madame President?" He bowed over her, watching her closely, trying to establish her condition without inadvertently touching her.

The ineffectiveness of it jerked Adama out of his immobility and he strode to the bed, moved the boy aside and checked for a heartbeat at her throat. When he found it, he let out a relieved sigh and heavily sat down on the side of the bed.

"Where's that doctor?" he asked curtly.

"I don't know that, Sir." Billy shrugged. "You ordered him here."

Adama fixed him with a stare. If the boy had kept his wits together, Laura would be in Life Station now, receiving ample care and he would not be losing her like this, today.

"Damn right I did." His voice was no more than a whisper. "As you should have done hours ago!"

The boy stepped back as if hit, glowering indignantly. "She didn't want that! In fact she expressly stopped me from doing that. And it was her choice to make." Not yours. Billy didn't say it, but it was very clear what he meant.

"Yet you came to me," Adama stopped the boy in mid-rant.

Billy blinked.

"Just go find Cottle!"

Adama turned to the woman on the bed, effectively dismissing the boy.

"Madam President?" he prodded gently, moving the blankets up to cover her shoulders.

Laura didn't move.

Her ashen complexion troubled him and he checked her throat again, thankful when he found a pulse. She was alive, barely maybe, but still here. He gently rolled her limp form onto her back, easing the cushion away from her, finding a comfortable position for her body.

"Laura?"

Her hands were bitter cold. He took them between his own, rubbed them and blew on them, trying to bring some warmth back to them.

He had known she would die; he'd known that when he first took her in his arms. But at that point he hadn't really anticipated that their attachment would grow beyond the friendly release that came with frakking a trusted body. He leaned over to kiss her forehead, lingering there as her scent reached him. He inhaled it deeply. He'd lose that too. The sudden emptiness in his gut made him reel.

A movement yanked him back to the world. Billy stood nearby, frowning at him and staring at the President's forehead.

"You still here?" Adama snapped.

The boy stepped back from the menace in his eyes.

"Get that doctor!" Adama ordered hoarsely.

"But..."

"Just do it, Mister Keikeya. You've lost enough time already."

&&&

"Move aside!" Doc Cottle wheezed when he finally arrived.

When the doctor pushed back the blankets and revealed the President's partly clothed body, Billy turned away, blushing. He looked pointedly at the Commander. Adama sighed, but followed the boy out of the bedroom and sank down into the armchair behind her desk.

After a few minutes Cottle appeared, frowning fiercely. "Now, why the frak did you order me here?!"

Adama eyed him. He opened his hands. Surely it was obvious. What else could he have done?

"She's here," he said.

"And life support frakking isn't!" Cottle bristled.

Adama's head snapped up. A shiver ran up his spine. He was an idiot. This could cost her... He was an incredible idiot.

"Mr. Keikeya," the doctor looked at the young man. "Can you carry her?" He pointed at the President.

"Is that wise?" Billy stepped back, suddenly wide-eyed, his hands defensively in front of him, blushing.

Cottle raised a brow at that unexpected reticence. "Do you see a stretcher?"

"No."

"Then let's move!"

"You want him to..." Adama stepped forward.

"You and I aren't getting any younger," the doctor cut him short. "Hurry up. We need to get her back to Galactica. Now!"

Billy pulled away her blankets and, with deep red spots on his cheeks, clasped her naked arm, ready to haul her up and over his shoulder in a secure fireman's grip.

Adama stepped forward.

"No way." He was not about to let her be carried to Galactica like that.

"Sir?" Billy froze.

"Release her," Bill growled, advancing on the boy.

The boy stepped back hastily.

Adama draped the coverings back over Laura's frail frame, slid his arms under her body and lifted her gently, blankets and all. She was much lighter than the first time he had carried her like this, only a few weeks ago. He shifted her delicate form in his arms, so that her head fell against his chest.

"Lead the way, Doc."

He turned to Billy. "Get her some clothes and follow us in the next shuttle."

"But..."

"No but. You've had your chance. You almost let her die."

"But..."

But the Commander turned and briskly strode to the exit, carrying his precious burden.

"Coming, Doc?"