FIC: A Bitter Pill (BSG)
Title: A Bitter Pill
Characters: Sam, Tory, Laura, Simon, D'Anna
Rating: PG
Summary: Sam wants to get Kara back, but there's something he has to do first, whether he wants to or not.
Warnings: None
Word Count: ~2,800
Author's Note: Gift fic for gracent_dic, filling the prompts New Caprica and hurt/comfort.
Kara. They'd taken Kara two days ago, and it was a burning loss that drove Sam out into the cold, coughing until his body shook as he fruitlessly searched for her. He didn't know why he was looking- it wasn't like the Cylons had hidden her under someone's latrine or in another tent. Kara was in a secure facility somewhere- on a baseship or in the grounded Astral Queen- he wasn't going to find her like this. But that didn't stop him from trying, at least until he collapsed into the icy grit.
***
The first thing Sam was aware of was warmth. Warmth and softness.
"Here," a soft, stern voice said from very far away. "Drink this." Something hot was pressed to his lips, and Sam automatically drank. It took his brain several long minutes to place the flavor.
"Chicken."
"I'm sorry?" The warmth left his mouth, and Sam pried his eyes open. A warm light was behind a blurry blob. Sam blinked, and the blob resolved itself into a person. Further blinking revealed that it was a woman, and finally his mind realized it was Laura Roslin.
"The broth," he said, his voice hoarse to his own ears. "It's chicken."
"Oh. Well, what passes for chicken." Laura extended the cup to him. "Would you like more?"
Sam took the cup. His hands shook and for a moment it looked like the broth would spill, but Laura steadied his hands until he could hold the mug without shaking, and he was able to bring the cup to his lips. The broth spread warmth through him, starting at his throat and extending all the way to his extremities.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." Laura sat back, a small smile playing on her lips. "Of course, the next question is what were you doing outside in this weather. I'm not used to pyramid players collapsing in front of my school."
"I was looking for Kara."
Laura's face stilled. "What happened to Kara?"
"They took her." Sam groaned and tried to sit up. The tent began to spin, and Laura forced him back down with a gentle, cold hand. "One of the Twos took her."
Laura glanced back over her shoulder, then shushed him. "You're not going to get her back fainting on the ground and dying of exposure." Sam thought there might be humor in her voice, but really didn't want to hear it if there was. "Stay in bed."
Sam opened his mouth to protest, but Laura tucked a warm comforter around his shoulders and the spinning in his head increased. He closed his eyes, and before he knew it, he'd drifted off to sleep.
***
The next time Sam woke, he was brutally aware of three things: 1.) he was not in his own bed, 2.) Kara was gone, and 3.) he desperately had to pee. Given that the last problem had the easiest answer, he decided to take care of that one first.
The ground was cold under his bare feet, and he had to take a moment to catch his balance. But he made it outside of the unfamiliar tent and took care of his business well enough. Mind and bladder cleared, he decided he'd better figure out the first problem as well. And it turned out to be surprisingly easy to answer when he returned to the tent and found Laura Roslin asleep in a chair, a blanket tucked around her.
"Don't worry about waking her. She's a sound sleeper."
Sam spun. "What the frak are you doing here?"
Tory Foster was perched in a chair on the other side of the tent. "Grading papers. Keeping an eye on you. Serving the President. Take your pick."
Sam lifted a hand to his spinning head. "She's not the President," was all he could think to say.
Tory's snort was an eloquent response. "You should get back into bed. You're still sick."
"I'm fine," Sam tried to say, but a bout of coughing interrupted him. Tory's expression never changed, and when he was done and could breathe again, he meekly obeyed her order and got back into the bed. "Won't she need it?"
"She can sleep at my tent if she needs to. Or Maya's. Believe me, she has plenty of friends who will see her through. The problem is what to do with you."
"I can go back to my tent."
"And do what? Die alone and we find out about it when the Cylons haul your stinking corpse out? No, thank you." Tory frowned and tapped her chin in thought. "Have you seen Cottle?"
"Kara did. She was trying to get me medicine, but…." Sam tried to shrug like it was no big deal. And it wasn't, for the most part, except the fact that Kara was trying to take care of him opened up the wound again, and if he thought about it too much he would-
"Don't start crying," Tory ordered sharply. "It will only make your congestion worse."
"I need to get Kara back," Sam told her.
"What you need is medicine. Then you can worry about getting Kara back." Sam opened his mouth to protest, but Tory held up an authoritative hand. "If you keep going you're going to wind up dead, and you're no good to us dead."
She had a point. Not that Sam was so sure he'd mind being dead these days, but if he was dead he couldn't help Kara, and that wasn't something he could think about. "But how the hell am I going to get medicine?" he asked. "The Cylons aren't going to be handing it out."
"We might just be surprised."
***
"I don't like it," Laura said, her lips curling over her teeth as if she'd smelled something offensive. "The idea of going to one of them and asking for a favor goes against every fiber of my being."
"There's not much else we can do," Tory pointed out. "I already talked to Doc Cottle, and he said that the med supplies were nearly nonexistent."
"Kara said the same thing," Sam said from his position in Laura's bed. "I know she was planning on trying something, but I think it was just trying to get drugs out of Adama."
"You should be sleeping," Laura said, a teacher's sharpness in her voice. She turned back to Tory. "We also have no idea if the Cylons will give us medicine if we ask for it."
"They might," Tory said. Laura opened her mouth to protest, but Tory held up her hand to stop her. "Hear me out. They haven't nuked the settlement yet. They say they've come to live in peace." Laura made a disgusted noise, and frankly, Sam agreed with her. Even Tory's mouth twisted into a mocking expression. "I know. But if I was on a mission of domination via peace, the first thing I'd do to keep the occupied force quiet is give them comforts and supplies that they need. Food. Medicine. It won't last long, of course, but it will probably happen now."
"I still don't like it." Laura crossed her arms.
"Do you like the idea of Sam dying of pneumonia better?" Tory asked, arching an eyebrow.
"It's a close call," Sam said. Both women ignored him.
"I know." Laura sighed heavily. "I said I didn't like it. That doesn't mean that you're not right."
"So we'll do it?" Tory said.
"We'll do it."
Sam fell back on the bed, vaguely insulted by the way the whole thing had been decided for him. On the other hand, if he'd been left to his own devices, he wouldn't have gone near the Cylons for medical supplies. Maybe it was just as well that Tory decided for him.
***
Laura and Tory bundled Sam up well before taking him to the medical tent. "I feel like a kindergartner," Sam protested as Laura covered his hands. "Really. I can put mittens on by myself." Laura gave him a skeptical look and went back to her task. Realistically, Sam couldn't blame her. Just standing was difficult, and he was still wobbly. And when they went out into the cold, bitter wind, he had to lean on Laura for support.
The med center was not far from Laura's tent, but Sam was exhausted when they entered. But not so exhausted that he couldn't recoil at the sight of the Four that crossed his path.
"No. No way. I can't do this."
"You can," Tory said. "It's this or die slow."
"I'll take my chances with the pneumonia," Sam said. He turned to leave, but a spasm of coughing stopped him in his tracks, making him bend over into a ball of misery until it passed. When he was able to stand up, a Four was looking at him with a concerned expression.
"No. No." Sam shook his head and tried to back away. "Get this frak away from me."
The Four raised his eyebrows. "I'd like to point out that you came to me. You're free to leave here."
Sam turned to stumble out the door, but Tory held his arm firmly. "He needs an antibiotic."
"Not from him." Sam tried to pull away. "He frakking messed with us."
"I don't believe I've ever met you," the Four said, frowning.
"On Caprica. You… you frakked us over, messing with our radiation meds. You were our doctor."
"Ah. That. No, I was not your doctor. That was him, over there." The Four pointed to a copy across the tent, who hadn't even appeared to notice them. Bile rose in Sam's throat, and his fists clenched. The Four seemed unconcerned. "Now that that's sorted, if you'll step this way please-"
"I can't," Sam muttered, but his protests were overridden by Tory pushing him. He glanced back at Laura. She looked sympathetic- horrified, even- but she didn't intercede. The fact that Laura Roslin was going along with this sucked the fight out of him, and he obeyed Tory almost involuntarily.
The Four led them to a small cubicle and gestured for Sam to sit on the table. He did so, only because now that a seat was offered, he was fairly certain he'd fall over if he didn't take it. Laura and Tory stayed, a pair of loyal guardians who were not going to let him out of their sight. Throughout the examination he kept looking for some sign, some little feature that was different on this Four. But it was no use. As far as he could remember, this Four was an absolutely identical copy to the Four who had been their doctor. It made Sam's hair stand on end.
Finally, the Four left the cubicle. Sam fell back on the table, his back and chest sore as his muscles relaxed. Laura came closer and sat down beside him, taking his hand in silence. Her skin was cold, but her fingers laced through his with a warm confidence. He squeezed her fingers, grateful for her silent comfort. The three of them sat in silence. There was nothing really to say.
After a long while the curtain moved aside again. Sam struggled to prop himself up, fully expecting to see the Four. Instead, a Three walked in, surveying the three of them with a bitter sort of amusement.
"He's not that close to dying, you know," she said to Laura and Tory. "At least, the Fours don't think so."
"Good." Laura's voice was clipped. "Then let's solve the problem and let him go on his way."
The Three arched an eyebrow at her tone, then turned so she was clearly ignoring Laura and speaking to Sam. "We can give you an antibiotic."
"Great. When do I get it?" Sam said when she continued to just stand there.
"And what's the catch?" Tory asked, her eyes narrowed.
"Catch? There's no catch." The Three put on an appalled expression. "This is a new era of peace, love, and cooperation. We're here to help you. Why would there be a catch?"
The worst part, Sam thought, the absolute worst part was that he could not tell if she was being serious or sarcastic. And judging by the sour expression on Laura's face, she felt the same way.
The Three smiled. "I'll go get it for you then, shall I?" She clasped her hands together in front of her, and then turned on her heel.
"Wait." Sam put out a hand to stop her. "My wife. Kara Thrace. Do you know what happened to her?" The Three shook her head. "A Two. One of the Twos came into our tent and took her."
"I know nothing." Again, it was impossible to guess at her sincerity, especially when a flicker of undecipherable emotion crossed her face. But maybe he was imagining that.
"Can you try to find out?"
The Three looked over her shoulder. Checking for other models listening? The thought gave Sam a wild hope. "I'm not supposed to."
"Please," he begged. "Please. Just ask. That's all I'm asking. I just want to know if she's alive."
"Of course she's alive. We're not here to kill people."
"Just find out for sure. Please."
The Three shrugged. "I can try." She stepped out of his grip and left the cubicle. Sam lay back on the table. It was supposedly a victory, but he felt completely defeated.
He didn't expect an answer right away, but the Three brought him a bottle of chalky liquid and news. Or, more accurately, no news. "I can't find her in the database."
"You can't find her?" Tory asked. "They just took her two days ago. That's ridiculous!"
The Three smirked. "I can't tell if you’re appalled at the fact she's missing or our record keeping abilities." Tory glared at her, and the Three turned back to Sam. "She is not in the database. Do you have a basis for thinking that she was taken by a Cylon, and has not simply run off into the woods?"
"A frakking Two came into our tent and asked about her," Sam said, trying not to grit his teeth. "She didn't run off."
"And believe me, she wouldn't." Laura crossed her arms. "Kara Thrace is not the type to run off. Which, I'm sure, is why she's been taken prisoner."
The Three looked bemused. "Well, I can ask around with the Twos," she said, and Sam knew from Laura's expression they were being patted down, and no inquiries would be made. "We'll try to help you all that we can." With that, she pressed the medicine into Sam's hand. The message was clear- this was the sort of help that he could expect. Kara was off-limits. The Three smiled at them and left without another word.
Laura sighed. "Get your shirt on, Sam. Nothing else is going to come out of this. We should have known better."
"At least we got the medicine," Tory said, helping Sam. "Let's get out of here."
***
"It's not going to last," Laura predicted as she tucked Sam back into bed. "Dispensation of medicine. Cylon generosity." She spat the words.
"If it's even an anitbiotic at all." Sam wasn't sure if he was glad to be home or not. "It could be poison."
"Of course it's not poison," Tory said, measuring out a dose. "Laura is right. It's not going to last, but right now, they want to be seen as heroes. Gods. Right now, it's an antibiotic. So take it and get better, because when it all goes to hell-"
"It already is hell. They still have Kara."
"I know. But when it gets worse, we're going to need you."
She was right. Sam reluctantly took the cup and tossed back the contents. His insides didn't start burning and he didn't start gagging, so that was something. He didn't want to feel grateful, though.
His feelings must have showed on his face, because Laura softened. "Get some sleep, Sam," she said, patting his pillow and pushing him back towards it. "You need to get better, or you can't help anyone."
"I'll find her," Sam promised. "I'll get her back." His eyes and limbs were getting heavy again.
"I know you will." Laura took his hand again. "When you're better."
"Yeah." Sam closed his eyes. "Thanks, by the way. For selling out your principles to get me the medicine. Don't worry. We'll kill a few of them to make up for it."
"That's certainly a consolation," Laura said with a slight laugh, but Sam was pretty sure she wasn't joking. "Now go to sleep."
It was an order. With one last sigh, Sam obeyed.
Characters: Sam, Tory, Laura, Simon, D'Anna
Rating: PG
Summary: Sam wants to get Kara back, but there's something he has to do first, whether he wants to or not.
Warnings: None
Word Count: ~2,800
Author's Note: Gift fic for gracent_dic, filling the prompts New Caprica and hurt/comfort.
Kara. They'd taken Kara two days ago, and it was a burning loss that drove Sam out into the cold, coughing until his body shook as he fruitlessly searched for her. He didn't know why he was looking- it wasn't like the Cylons had hidden her under someone's latrine or in another tent. Kara was in a secure facility somewhere- on a baseship or in the grounded Astral Queen- he wasn't going to find her like this. But that didn't stop him from trying, at least until he collapsed into the icy grit.
***
The first thing Sam was aware of was warmth. Warmth and softness.
"Here," a soft, stern voice said from very far away. "Drink this." Something hot was pressed to his lips, and Sam automatically drank. It took his brain several long minutes to place the flavor.
"Chicken."
"I'm sorry?" The warmth left his mouth, and Sam pried his eyes open. A warm light was behind a blurry blob. Sam blinked, and the blob resolved itself into a person. Further blinking revealed that it was a woman, and finally his mind realized it was Laura Roslin.
"The broth," he said, his voice hoarse to his own ears. "It's chicken."
"Oh. Well, what passes for chicken." Laura extended the cup to him. "Would you like more?"
Sam took the cup. His hands shook and for a moment it looked like the broth would spill, but Laura steadied his hands until he could hold the mug without shaking, and he was able to bring the cup to his lips. The broth spread warmth through him, starting at his throat and extending all the way to his extremities.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." Laura sat back, a small smile playing on her lips. "Of course, the next question is what were you doing outside in this weather. I'm not used to pyramid players collapsing in front of my school."
"I was looking for Kara."
Laura's face stilled. "What happened to Kara?"
"They took her." Sam groaned and tried to sit up. The tent began to spin, and Laura forced him back down with a gentle, cold hand. "One of the Twos took her."
Laura glanced back over her shoulder, then shushed him. "You're not going to get her back fainting on the ground and dying of exposure." Sam thought there might be humor in her voice, but really didn't want to hear it if there was. "Stay in bed."
Sam opened his mouth to protest, but Laura tucked a warm comforter around his shoulders and the spinning in his head increased. He closed his eyes, and before he knew it, he'd drifted off to sleep.
***
The next time Sam woke, he was brutally aware of three things: 1.) he was not in his own bed, 2.) Kara was gone, and 3.) he desperately had to pee. Given that the last problem had the easiest answer, he decided to take care of that one first.
The ground was cold under his bare feet, and he had to take a moment to catch his balance. But he made it outside of the unfamiliar tent and took care of his business well enough. Mind and bladder cleared, he decided he'd better figure out the first problem as well. And it turned out to be surprisingly easy to answer when he returned to the tent and found Laura Roslin asleep in a chair, a blanket tucked around her.
"Don't worry about waking her. She's a sound sleeper."
Sam spun. "What the frak are you doing here?"
Tory Foster was perched in a chair on the other side of the tent. "Grading papers. Keeping an eye on you. Serving the President. Take your pick."
Sam lifted a hand to his spinning head. "She's not the President," was all he could think to say.
Tory's snort was an eloquent response. "You should get back into bed. You're still sick."
"I'm fine," Sam tried to say, but a bout of coughing interrupted him. Tory's expression never changed, and when he was done and could breathe again, he meekly obeyed her order and got back into the bed. "Won't she need it?"
"She can sleep at my tent if she needs to. Or Maya's. Believe me, she has plenty of friends who will see her through. The problem is what to do with you."
"I can go back to my tent."
"And do what? Die alone and we find out about it when the Cylons haul your stinking corpse out? No, thank you." Tory frowned and tapped her chin in thought. "Have you seen Cottle?"
"Kara did. She was trying to get me medicine, but…." Sam tried to shrug like it was no big deal. And it wasn't, for the most part, except the fact that Kara was trying to take care of him opened up the wound again, and if he thought about it too much he would-
"Don't start crying," Tory ordered sharply. "It will only make your congestion worse."
"I need to get Kara back," Sam told her.
"What you need is medicine. Then you can worry about getting Kara back." Sam opened his mouth to protest, but Tory held up an authoritative hand. "If you keep going you're going to wind up dead, and you're no good to us dead."
She had a point. Not that Sam was so sure he'd mind being dead these days, but if he was dead he couldn't help Kara, and that wasn't something he could think about. "But how the hell am I going to get medicine?" he asked. "The Cylons aren't going to be handing it out."
"We might just be surprised."
***
"I don't like it," Laura said, her lips curling over her teeth as if she'd smelled something offensive. "The idea of going to one of them and asking for a favor goes against every fiber of my being."
"There's not much else we can do," Tory pointed out. "I already talked to Doc Cottle, and he said that the med supplies were nearly nonexistent."
"Kara said the same thing," Sam said from his position in Laura's bed. "I know she was planning on trying something, but I think it was just trying to get drugs out of Adama."
"You should be sleeping," Laura said, a teacher's sharpness in her voice. She turned back to Tory. "We also have no idea if the Cylons will give us medicine if we ask for it."
"They might," Tory said. Laura opened her mouth to protest, but Tory held up her hand to stop her. "Hear me out. They haven't nuked the settlement yet. They say they've come to live in peace." Laura made a disgusted noise, and frankly, Sam agreed with her. Even Tory's mouth twisted into a mocking expression. "I know. But if I was on a mission of domination via peace, the first thing I'd do to keep the occupied force quiet is give them comforts and supplies that they need. Food. Medicine. It won't last long, of course, but it will probably happen now."
"I still don't like it." Laura crossed her arms.
"Do you like the idea of Sam dying of pneumonia better?" Tory asked, arching an eyebrow.
"It's a close call," Sam said. Both women ignored him.
"I know." Laura sighed heavily. "I said I didn't like it. That doesn't mean that you're not right."
"So we'll do it?" Tory said.
"We'll do it."
Sam fell back on the bed, vaguely insulted by the way the whole thing had been decided for him. On the other hand, if he'd been left to his own devices, he wouldn't have gone near the Cylons for medical supplies. Maybe it was just as well that Tory decided for him.
***
Laura and Tory bundled Sam up well before taking him to the medical tent. "I feel like a kindergartner," Sam protested as Laura covered his hands. "Really. I can put mittens on by myself." Laura gave him a skeptical look and went back to her task. Realistically, Sam couldn't blame her. Just standing was difficult, and he was still wobbly. And when they went out into the cold, bitter wind, he had to lean on Laura for support.
The med center was not far from Laura's tent, but Sam was exhausted when they entered. But not so exhausted that he couldn't recoil at the sight of the Four that crossed his path.
"No. No way. I can't do this."
"You can," Tory said. "It's this or die slow."
"I'll take my chances with the pneumonia," Sam said. He turned to leave, but a spasm of coughing stopped him in his tracks, making him bend over into a ball of misery until it passed. When he was able to stand up, a Four was looking at him with a concerned expression.
"No. No." Sam shook his head and tried to back away. "Get this frak away from me."
The Four raised his eyebrows. "I'd like to point out that you came to me. You're free to leave here."
Sam turned to stumble out the door, but Tory held his arm firmly. "He needs an antibiotic."
"Not from him." Sam tried to pull away. "He frakking messed with us."
"I don't believe I've ever met you," the Four said, frowning.
"On Caprica. You… you frakked us over, messing with our radiation meds. You were our doctor."
"Ah. That. No, I was not your doctor. That was him, over there." The Four pointed to a copy across the tent, who hadn't even appeared to notice them. Bile rose in Sam's throat, and his fists clenched. The Four seemed unconcerned. "Now that that's sorted, if you'll step this way please-"
"I can't," Sam muttered, but his protests were overridden by Tory pushing him. He glanced back at Laura. She looked sympathetic- horrified, even- but she didn't intercede. The fact that Laura Roslin was going along with this sucked the fight out of him, and he obeyed Tory almost involuntarily.
The Four led them to a small cubicle and gestured for Sam to sit on the table. He did so, only because now that a seat was offered, he was fairly certain he'd fall over if he didn't take it. Laura and Tory stayed, a pair of loyal guardians who were not going to let him out of their sight. Throughout the examination he kept looking for some sign, some little feature that was different on this Four. But it was no use. As far as he could remember, this Four was an absolutely identical copy to the Four who had been their doctor. It made Sam's hair stand on end.
Finally, the Four left the cubicle. Sam fell back on the table, his back and chest sore as his muscles relaxed. Laura came closer and sat down beside him, taking his hand in silence. Her skin was cold, but her fingers laced through his with a warm confidence. He squeezed her fingers, grateful for her silent comfort. The three of them sat in silence. There was nothing really to say.
After a long while the curtain moved aside again. Sam struggled to prop himself up, fully expecting to see the Four. Instead, a Three walked in, surveying the three of them with a bitter sort of amusement.
"He's not that close to dying, you know," she said to Laura and Tory. "At least, the Fours don't think so."
"Good." Laura's voice was clipped. "Then let's solve the problem and let him go on his way."
The Three arched an eyebrow at her tone, then turned so she was clearly ignoring Laura and speaking to Sam. "We can give you an antibiotic."
"Great. When do I get it?" Sam said when she continued to just stand there.
"And what's the catch?" Tory asked, her eyes narrowed.
"Catch? There's no catch." The Three put on an appalled expression. "This is a new era of peace, love, and cooperation. We're here to help you. Why would there be a catch?"
The worst part, Sam thought, the absolute worst part was that he could not tell if she was being serious or sarcastic. And judging by the sour expression on Laura's face, she felt the same way.
The Three smiled. "I'll go get it for you then, shall I?" She clasped her hands together in front of her, and then turned on her heel.
"Wait." Sam put out a hand to stop her. "My wife. Kara Thrace. Do you know what happened to her?" The Three shook her head. "A Two. One of the Twos came into our tent and took her."
"I know nothing." Again, it was impossible to guess at her sincerity, especially when a flicker of undecipherable emotion crossed her face. But maybe he was imagining that.
"Can you try to find out?"
The Three looked over her shoulder. Checking for other models listening? The thought gave Sam a wild hope. "I'm not supposed to."
"Please," he begged. "Please. Just ask. That's all I'm asking. I just want to know if she's alive."
"Of course she's alive. We're not here to kill people."
"Just find out for sure. Please."
The Three shrugged. "I can try." She stepped out of his grip and left the cubicle. Sam lay back on the table. It was supposedly a victory, but he felt completely defeated.
He didn't expect an answer right away, but the Three brought him a bottle of chalky liquid and news. Or, more accurately, no news. "I can't find her in the database."
"You can't find her?" Tory asked. "They just took her two days ago. That's ridiculous!"
The Three smirked. "I can't tell if you’re appalled at the fact she's missing or our record keeping abilities." Tory glared at her, and the Three turned back to Sam. "She is not in the database. Do you have a basis for thinking that she was taken by a Cylon, and has not simply run off into the woods?"
"A frakking Two came into our tent and asked about her," Sam said, trying not to grit his teeth. "She didn't run off."
"And believe me, she wouldn't." Laura crossed her arms. "Kara Thrace is not the type to run off. Which, I'm sure, is why she's been taken prisoner."
The Three looked bemused. "Well, I can ask around with the Twos," she said, and Sam knew from Laura's expression they were being patted down, and no inquiries would be made. "We'll try to help you all that we can." With that, she pressed the medicine into Sam's hand. The message was clear- this was the sort of help that he could expect. Kara was off-limits. The Three smiled at them and left without another word.
Laura sighed. "Get your shirt on, Sam. Nothing else is going to come out of this. We should have known better."
"At least we got the medicine," Tory said, helping Sam. "Let's get out of here."
***
"It's not going to last," Laura predicted as she tucked Sam back into bed. "Dispensation of medicine. Cylon generosity." She spat the words.
"If it's even an anitbiotic at all." Sam wasn't sure if he was glad to be home or not. "It could be poison."
"Of course it's not poison," Tory said, measuring out a dose. "Laura is right. It's not going to last, but right now, they want to be seen as heroes. Gods. Right now, it's an antibiotic. So take it and get better, because when it all goes to hell-"
"It already is hell. They still have Kara."
"I know. But when it gets worse, we're going to need you."
She was right. Sam reluctantly took the cup and tossed back the contents. His insides didn't start burning and he didn't start gagging, so that was something. He didn't want to feel grateful, though.
His feelings must have showed on his face, because Laura softened. "Get some sleep, Sam," she said, patting his pillow and pushing him back towards it. "You need to get better, or you can't help anyone."
"I'll find her," Sam promised. "I'll get her back." His eyes and limbs were getting heavy again.
"I know you will." Laura took his hand again. "When you're better."
"Yeah." Sam closed his eyes. "Thanks, by the way. For selling out your principles to get me the medicine. Don't worry. We'll kill a few of them to make up for it."
"That's certainly a consolation," Laura said with a slight laugh, but Sam was pretty sure she wasn't joking. "Now go to sleep."
It was an order. With one last sigh, Sam obeyed.