Adama arrives following a force of Marines pushing a gurney down the corridor outside the lounge. There is a covered dead body upon it. He's not wearing his glare-proof glasses, meaning maybe the glare will get all Scott Summers on some people. Starbuck's hanging on the wall outside the lounge, sick and sad, and pulls herself toward him like she's under water: "Admiral. Let me help. Please." He looks into her eyes, so deep, and the love in him is so, so real, because he knows what she's feeling, the hate and the anger she's risked, and with one hand on her tender arm, he murmurs, "Let me take it from here." There is grace in it. Starbuck nods, almost crying, and Adama heads off with the Marines. She's like a bunch of pieces stitched together, but now she can just worry about Lee and the rest, instead of wondering when Adama was going to pop up and choke her like a Boomer model.