"Man, that'd be rough." How many times was he right near the ambrosia factory? It isn't -- wasn't -- that far from Caprica City. "You know what they say about the stuff, it's the drink of the angels."

He can't help but wax pretty frakking nostalgic for the way things were: it was his life, just like it was the life of billions of people who didn't have a say about the way things ended up. He's one of a lucky few who survived, through sheer opportunity, through sheer force of will, through sheer dumb happenstance. Whatever it was, he's glad he did.

"And here I am, bending your ear about home. If you need to rest, I can leave you be." He almost apologizes again, but he doesn't know what for. Talking to a guy on heavy painkillers? He doesn't think he's been taking up too much of Felix's time or anything, but he does think he genuinely likes the guy.

And he's still really sorry for whatever happened. Maybe even more sorry because it's so out of his control. But they all lost control three weeks ago (or three years ago) when the Cylons attacked, and nothing's ever gonna be the same again. One of these days, he'll have to embrace that.