Adama swears, with a drink in his hand and under his breath, that nobody is going anywhere. He wants so badly to believe, and so rarely that you want to just hand it to him, when he does. "Okay. Here's the truth. This is what's going on." (Ding ding ding! If you're wondering what's going on, and desperately need to have it explained to you on the level of the lowest common denominator, Laura's going to hand it to you. Although I will say that this kind of thing is a lot better at the beginning of the season, because it tells you where the season's going. Last week I said the season could be found in the quiet moments, but this week it's the opposite. Here's what's going on.)
"You want to believe Kara. You would rather be wrong about her, and face your own demise, than risk losing her again." And just so you know she's right, Adama stares bitterly into his glass and then growls, "You can stay in the room, but get out of my head." He rises to our another drink and she scoffs, accusing him of being afraid to live alone. Which is an awkward line in this scene, but only bridges to his next, the worst and most telling: "And you're afraid to die that way." She grins bitterly, and hums that sad, scary hum she hums, and somewhere in this room, in the trash or something, there's a broken portrait of a family.
"You're afraid that you may not be the Dying Leader you thought you were. Or that your death may be as meaningless as everyone else's. "...For if any, being supreme guide of the State, cleaves not to the best counsels, but through some fear keeps his lips locked, I hold, and have ever held, him most base; and if any makes a friend of more account than his fatherland, that man hath no place in my regard. For I -- be Zeus my witness, who sees all things always -- would not be silent if I saw ruin, instead of safety, coming to the citizens; nor would I ever deem the country's foe a friend to myself; remembering this, that our country is the ship that bears us safe, and that only while she prospers in our voyage can we make true friends." That's Creon again, telling the lies that we have to tell ourselves in order to make the pieces fit. That's Laura Roslin talking about her people, her people, and her most trusted friend calling bullshit. Calling her selfish. He's always so fucking brutal when he's drunk. He leaves without a word, slamming the hatch behind him.