Author's Notes: A quick little Susan story, set just after Sleeping in Light. Inspirational credit goes to the Dave Matthews Band song "The Dreaming Tree", most particularly the second verse.
Disclaimer: Susan, Marcus, Minbar, the Rangers, and the wolf belong to JMS. I'm just borrowing.
The wolf was stalking her again.
Despite the bottle of vodka Susan had consumed - and it was only two in the morning - the wolf just wouldn't go away. This night the wolf spoke of John more than the other, but she carried with her a whole litter of pups.
Susan regarded the glass again for a moment as if gazing through the clear, shimmering liquid would offer her some insight. Not that she needed insight, she thought as she took a hefty sip. She knew what the problem was. John was dead, and she was only - only? - feeling guilty because this was the first time she had seen him in nearly twenty years.
He had looked good for a man on the brink of death, she thought as she finished the glass and poured another. But then, he had looked good as a man just back from death, too, twenty years ago. He had joked about that, just before he…left. He had joked about a great many things, that day. Susan had not joined in; she had lost too many friends to rejoice at the passing of another. But she was regretting it, now. She had spent so little time with any of them since she had left Babylon 5. Because of…
No. She would not think that name. She would not think of him…
She forcibly turned her thoughts back to something (anything) else. Delenn's proposition. Not that that was much better - the thought of living on Minbar, a constant reminder of everything, was not particularly appealing. But then, neither was spending the rest of her life in St. Petersburg, drinking herself into oblivion. Because that was what would happen, she knew. Oblivion…however far away it was, and with one bottle emptied already, oblivion seemed farther away than ever.
At least with the Rangers she could accomplish something, Susan reflected. Remind them of what they had been, what they were, and what they could be. God knew she could never forget that. Not with his memory hovering over her.
This time she did not shy away from the thought, but tried to recall him at his best: the slight smile that tugged at his lips; the long, dark hair that was always slightly ruffled as if by a nonexistant wind; the look of laughter and fierce dedication in his eyes.
Marcus.
He was one of the best of them, she thought, no matter what the other Minbari would say about him and his reasons for joining the Rangers. But then, she could very well be biased. If love is blind, and hindsight is 20/20, she thought fuzzily, then what do I have?
Ah, well, she decided as she poured herself another glass of vodka and stared through it. It mattered little. She would never have anything less than utter respect for him.
Anla'shok Na, she thought again, her thoughts taking a turn that was, perhaps, not quite so sharp as it seemed. It wouldn't be a bad title to add to the list.
I'll do it, she thought decisively, more to Marcus than to herself. For you. And for me. But mostly for everything that should have been. She sealed the compact with another swig of vodka.
And with that the wolf slunk away, and Susan was finally able to sleep.