A/N: The idea for this story came from a challenge from another site. The challenge was to write a story where a main character dies unexpectedly and another character's reaction to it. The character at some point must say they wish they'd told the other character how they really felt about them (not neccesarily romantic, which mine isn't) and that the character leaves or plans to leave, something other than flowers at the gravesite. When I looked over the challenges for the umpteenth time, trying to think of something to write, it jumped out at me. And since 'seaQuest' was on my brain, I thought of that show. The characters I immediately thought of were O'Neill and Piccolo. Not entirely sure why, though a few reasons have entered my mind.

Like a lot of my stories, music plays an important part in the story itself as well as inspiration for me. Though I haven't actually mentioned titles of songs or used any lyrics anywhere (at least not in the first few chapters) it is still integral to the story and the music (and possibly artists) that is alluded to is Christian. It's what I listen and much of what inspires me. There are Christian themes in this story, some points are very obvious. It's who I am. (I also have a very bizarre sense of humor. Just read "For Observational Purposes.")

Aside from music (and the Christian themes), two other things that will be prominant in the story are the use of Cherry blossoms and rain. They are almost characters unto themselves.

The title of the story comes from the NEEDTOBREATHE song "Shine On". It's one of a few songs central to the story's main theme.

I hope you enjoy.

Shine On

Chapter One

It had been almost a week since that night (five days to be exact) and no matter where he went, it was cold. It had nothing to do with the temperature; it was the atmosphere, the ambiance. At least, it felt that way. So, being in his quarters seemed just as good a place as any to be. The seaQuest was still docked at San Diego, but Piccolo had opted to return to the sub. Dr. Perry wouldn't clear him for duty just yet, which was perfectly fine with him. There was still another week or so before the funeral. It had been postponed due to…a number of reasons (aside from the fact that the services would be taking place at the opposite end of the country.) He had been told why, he was sure of that; but he couldn't remember them. Not that it mattered. This would give him more time to plan the funeral; the main arrangements, the where and when, had already been made—and remade. Piccolo had asked Bridger to take care of that, to which his former captain gladly obliged. He then asked Lonnie if she would take care of all the decorating stuff, flowers and the like. He wasn't very good with that stuff, he had tried, but it ended up being too frustrating. She was happy to help. Piccolo would oversee it, but he also had some special stuff planned; the rest was all up to him.

Tim had no family…well, no blood family, anyway. Tim's only sibling, a younger brother, had died when he was a kid, both of his parents passed away during the ten years they had been missing. He didn't talk about his family much and Piccolo was sure no one else, except maybe Miguel, knew he'd ever had a brother. There was one relative Tim did talk about quite often. His grandfather, Admiral Thomas O' Neill, a career navy man. The gentleman was still alive when they returned. Tim contacted the man as soon as he could. On their first shore leave, Tim had taken the opportunity to see him and had invited Piccolo along. He remembered that day well. Both granddad and grandson were ecstatic to see each other. He had kept out of the way while the reunion took place, but as soon as Tim introduced him to his granddad it felt like he was having a reunion of his own with a beloved family member, like his Aunt Rose and his cousin Angie. The admiral told him, 'If my grandson considers you family, then I consider you family. It'll be good to have another grandson again.' Thinking about it even now brought, at least, a small smile to his face. From that day until the day he passed away, the admiral treated him like he was his grandson. In the little (it seemed little) time that Tony had spent with the man, he understood why Tim adored him so much. The rest of his core group—Bridger included (and even Michael)—had the privilege of meeting the admiral (at his insistence) at a barbeque at the man's home on the last day of shore leave. He had taken them all in as if they were all his own family. This was the man, Adm. O' Neill, in whose footsteps Tim had followed. After spending some time with the retired officer, none of them were surprised at Tim's choice.

When the admiral passed away Tim was devastated. The man was barely functioning for the first few days following his granddad's passing. Fortunately, the funeral expenses had already been taken care of, so that was one less thing Tim had to worry about. While Tony had been happy to help with the funeral arrangements and all that went with it, what Tim had needed the most at that time was someone to be there for him. And Tony was determined to be that someone.

The July before, Tony had become Tim's bunkmate when it was decided that Lucas needed his own quarters to "compensate for the advances in technology" he had missed over the ten years the seaQuest and her crew had been missing, by giving him the equipment he needed. Or in layman's terms, Lucas needed his own space to play computer catch-up. Or in Piccolo-speak, toys in, Tony out. (He wondered why it had taken over a year for that to happen; but then, the threat of war [among other things] can thwart your plans.) He probably could have had his own quarters, but at the time he was learning more about running communications and O' Neill was very particular with how his station was run, especially after they returned to the "brave new world" as O' Neill had put it (rather sarcastically as Tony recalled). The man nearly had a heart attack upon learning that Lucas had to debug the comm. system and eventually reboot the entire system and then give it a minor upgrade once he returned from a special (more like suicidal) mission, that Tony had inadvertently involved himself in, and after two months in MedBay. It was another month before Dr. Perry would even consider clearing Tim for duty. (He had begged the captain to let Tony run communications while he was being "detained" [O' Neill's word] and Hudson gladly obliged.) They had nearly lost Tim due to the injuries he had sustained, not to mention all the other stuff those psychos did to him, on that "suicidal" mission. It was that mission that had brought the two of them even closer. Their relationship was no longer a simple friendship, but one of brothers.

Yeah, he could have had his own quarters, but he'd gotten used to having a roommate. He wasn't even sure he could handle being by himself. Besides, Tim had laid out the offer to bunk with him. Tony gladly accepted. It was after the admiral's funeral that Tony learned Tim's reasons for offering him the choice to be his bunkmate. His granddad had become gravely ill about the time Lucas was given his own quarters, and the man didn't have much time left. It was simple. Tim didn't want to be alone.

Tony wandered through the building, looking for Tim, stopping briefly to accept condolences on Tim's behalf and even, to his surprise, for himself. In the year that he had come to know Adm. O' Neill, he had grown close to the man and he hadn't truly realized it until now. He sighed as he walked towards the doors to the courtyard. Tim had disappeared to somewhere. Seeing Bridger standing by the doors speaking to one of the admiral's old friends, Tony approached him.

"Hey, Cap?"

Bridger turned around. "Ah, Piccolo."

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Sir," he said as he approached the two older men.

"That's quite alright. What can I do for you?"

"I was wonderin' if you've seen Tim," Tony said. "He kinda disappeared on me."

"He's out in the courtyard," his former captain replied.

"Thank you, Sir."

As he started out the door, Bridger spoke again. "Tony?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"How are you doing?"

"I'm okay, Sir?" He let out a sorrowful sigh. "I gotta be for Tim."

Bridger gave him a soft smile and patted him on the shoulder. Tony gave him a small smile in return and then headed out the door.

Stopping where concrete met grass, he scanned the courtyard. "Where is he?"

The courtyard was huge. There were numerous compacted dirt paths lined with white stones leading to the gazebos and covered benches. The larger gazebo was at the center of the courtyard with two smaller ones behind it and another two smaller ones on each side. There were flower beds surrounding each gazebo with Cherokee roses and vines weaving in and out of the lattices. With all the flower beds and trees added in, it was easy to hide out here. No wonder he was having a hard time finding Tim.

He didn't see the lieutenant anywhere near the center gazebo or the two smaller ones to its sides. Tim had to be in the back somewhere.

Tony headed down the path that wove between the center gazebo and the one to its left. The sunlight peeked through the cascading pink flowers of the weeping cherry, reflecting off of his cap insignia. A swift, strong breeze blew through the trees, sending cherry blossoms swirling around him. He gently blew at one that was floating towards his face. The light pink blossom spun away from him and then turned back towards him, bouncing off his knee and landing at his feet. He smiled softly as he continued down the path.

Directly behind the center gazebo was a large, two-tier pond set between the two smaller gazebos underneath two weeping cherry trees. Large stones were arranged from the edge of the top tier down to the second tier; the flowing water cascaded down the stones into the bottom tier, swirling the water around. There were lily pads floating around on both pools and fish swimming around in the bottom pool in and out of small plants and algae-covered rocks. The sound of the water tumbling over the stones was rather soothing, like those little fountains his Aunt Rose liked. With the addition of the soft twittering of birds as they fluttered through the trees and the total lack of "road noise" it was quite peaceful out in the courtyard. The weeping cherries and the sudden gentle breezes tossing the blossoms around made it feel even more tranquil. A few blossoms fell into the pond, floating around like tiny pink and white lily pads.

"All that's missing is a few frogs."

Tony smiled softly at the sound of the quiet and gentle voice of his vagabond friend.

"Wondered where you wandered off to."

"Sorry." Tim didn't say "sorry" very often. He didn't throw the word around like most did. It was a sincere apology. When he said it, he meant it. "I didn't mean to ditch you."

"Nah…. Don't apologize," Tony said softly. "I was just worried when you hadn't come back after an hour. I'm sure you had a reason. Just wanted to be alone."

Tim didn't respond right away. He walked over to the bench that sat a few feet away from where they were standing near the edge of the pond and sat down in the center of it. His expression and body language were so sorrowful it tore Tony up. He studied the lieutenant, who was now staring at the pond, for a moment. How young Tim looked blew his mind. Yeah, they all looked young for their age, considering they had missed ten years worth of aging; but Tim looked even younger than the thirty years he had turned not long before their little trip to another world. He looked up at the weeping cherry draping over him, sighing. It wouldn't be long before all the blossoms would be gone for another year. Dagwood, who had been reading extensively on cherry trees before their unwanted otherworldly adventure, had told him that these particular trees blossom for only a short period of time before their leaves take the blossoms' place. It was one of the rare times he actually listened and truly paid attention to Dagwood when he rambled on about something he learned. Tony wasn't sure why, but it was sad; the blossoms staying for such a short time. They were so beautiful.

He looked back over at Tim. The lieutenant was now twirling his hat around in front of himself, staring at the ground. Tony walked over to join him.

"No," Tim said, finally responding to him as he sat down. "I'm tired of being alone." He was almost too quiet to hear.

Tony had a burning question to ask. He rolled it around in his mind for a moment, wondering if he should go ahead and ask.

Sensing his distress, Tim looked at him. "You're wondering why I offered you the option of bunking with me," he said matter-of-factly, reading the warrant officer's mind.

"I know it's a weird question to ask, especially now," Tony said, knowing that that question had been obvious to Tim, "but…."

"Granddad became real sick about three weeks before Lucas was given his own quarters," Tim said. "I got a call about a week after that from his doctor saying that he didn't have long to live."

Tony turned to him, utter shock written all over his face. "Tim…. Why didn't you tell me then?"

Tim tried to answer, but nothing would come. When words finally did start to come, he stuttered and stumbled over them. He took a deep breath, choking back his emotions. Tony waited patiently and reverently for Tim to try again.

The lieutenant held tightly to his cap. "I just…. With everything that was going on then…. Being on yellow alert…I just…."

All the hesitation and stuttering was a clear sign to Tony of Tim's emotional state. He had always known Tim to wear his heart on his sleeve, not unlike himself. But when Tim found out his granddad was seriously ill, he hid his emotions well. He had even fooled Tony for a time. It wasn't long, though, before he figured something was wrong with the lieutenant; but with their being on an almost constant yellow alert and everyone being pushed beyond their limits, it was clear why Tim hadn't said anything and why he hadn't voiced his concern. Even so, he wished Tim had said something.

"I didn't want to worry you," Tim said, breaking the long-standing silence.

Tony turned to him with a quizzical look. "What?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Whadaya mean ya didn't wanna worry me?"

"I knew you'd grown close to him," Tim replied softly, "and I didn't want to put that burden on you."

"No…. Tim…." Tony let out a heavy sigh.

"Besides," Tim continued, "I didn't wanna believe it." He took in a sorrowed breath, then exhaled slowly. "I guess I figured if I denied it long enough, I would wake up and everything would be back to the way it was." He sighed. "Wishful thinking, Timothy."

Tony let out another weary sigh. "Tim, why do you do this to yourself?"

Tim turned to him with a puzzled look.

"Why do you put all this weight on your own shoulders? You can't take the burden on all by yourself." Tony pursed his lips and stared into Tim's eyes. "I know you lost a lot when we got back. All of us did. Yeah, ya ain't got a lot outside of 'seaQuest'. I don't, either. But we still got each other whet'er we're on 'seaQuest' or off of it."

Tim looked down at his hat, sighing heavily. "Don't put all this on yourself," Tony continued, hunching over and looking Tim in the face. "Look, I know that Lucas, the commander, Lonnie, Bridger, even Dagwood, would be more than happy to take off that weight and carry it. Especially Bridger. And if not them…at least, let me." He put his hand on Tim's shoulder. "Yer not alone."

"I know," Tim said softly, almost too softly for Tony to hear. "It just took me awhile to realize it."

There was a silence between them as Tony removed his hand from Tim's shoulder and clasped his own hands together. Still hunched over, he lifted his head up, first glancing at the lieutenant, who was still spinning his cap around between his hands; and then at the pond. Tim was right; the pond needed frogs.

"Hey, Tim?"

He stopped spinning his cap and looked at Tony. "Yeah?"

"The reason I said 'yes' ta bunkin' wit' ya is because I didn't wanna be by myself." He looked at Tim, who gave him a small smile.

"That's the reason why I asked you to be my bunkmate. I didn't wanna be alone. Especially since…." He trailed off.

Tony grinned. "I guess Lucas getting his own quarters was a blessing in disguise, huh."

Tim leaned back, a broad smile on his face. "I guess so."

There was a tranquil silence as another light breeze blew through the trees, sending another plethora of cherry blossoms into the air. They were so transfixed with the floating white and pink petals that they didn't hear the approaching footsteps.

"It's pretty out here."

They looked up.

"Hey, Dagwood," Tim said.

"Hey, Dag."

Lucas was standing next to him. "Hey, guys."

"Hey, Lucas," they replied together.

"Everyone's looking for you, Tim," Lucas said, sitting down next to him.

"Yeah, sorry for cutting out on everyone."

"Don't worry about it," Lucas replied. "We just figured you wanted some time to yourself."

"No…. I've had enough of that."

Lucas gave him a lopsided grin. "I was wondering why you asked Piccolo to bunk with you."

Tim smirked. The remark wasn't a crack on Tony, but to the untrained ear, that's how it sounded. And all four of them knew that. .

Tony looked around Tim at the ensign and said in a facetiously irritated tone, "Is that some kind of commentary, Wolenczak?"

They were silent…for awhile. Seeing the look Tony was giving him, Lucas had a difficult time holding back his laughter. Tim wasn't faring any better. Tony kept staring at them with that 'look' and even though they had both turned away, he knew they could 'feel' the 'look'.

Dagwood grimaced at all three of them and then smiled saying, "The admiral said if you hold in a laugh too long…it will turn into a fart."

He had said it so matter-of-factly (clearly on purpose), the three men on the bench burst into laughter.

Dagwood smiled broadly. "I made Tim laugh."

As their laughter died down Tim said, "Thanks, Dag. I needed that."

"Welcome," he replied, the smile still plastered on his face.

The wind started to pick up, pulling more cherry blossoms off their braches and stirring up ones that lay on the ground. Lucas looked up at the sky. Darkened clouds were drawing near, a storm was moving in. He hadn't noticed it until that moment, nor had he noticed how much cooler it felt than when he had first walked out into the courtyard.

"Where'd all these clouds come from?" Tony said, glancing at the sky.

"The weather report did say that a storm was supposed to be moving in this afternoon." Tim replied, standing up and putting his cap back on. "Better get back inside."

As the four of them walked back towards the building, Lucas said to Tim, "You know, as much as I liked having Tony as a bunkmate, I'm glad I was able to pawn him off on you."

"Gee thanks, Luke," Tony said with a mock scowl. "I'm glad my leavin's brought ya so much joy." He grinned at his former bunkmate.

Lucas stopped, halting Tim's progress as well.

"What is it?" the lieutenant asked.

Tony and Dagwood stopped, both wondering why the other two had ceased their forward movement.

"You know, Tim," Lucas said, "it wasn't a coincidence."

Tim raised an eyebrow.

"Your grandfather getting sick and Hudson giving me my own quarters around the same time." He glanced at Tony. "Tony could've had his own quarters. And if it had been under any other circumstances, he probably would have."

Tony and Tim looked at each other. Lucas was right. Even if Tony had preferred to have had a bunkmate, under normal circumstances it was more likely he would been given his own quarters. And if Tim's granddad had become ill then, how different would things be for them now? Tony didn't want to think about it and he knew Tim didn't either.

"Captain Bridger said it's a blessing in disguise," Dagwood said, pulling both men away from their thoughts.

"He's right," Lucas said with a smile.

Tim looked at Tony. The look on the lieutenant's face reminded him of what he had said just before Lucas and Dagwood had joined them. They grinned at each other.

Tony looked back at Lucas. "Leave it to the cap ta say somethin' profound." A blessing in disguise.

A blessing in disguise it was. For both him and Tim. They had formed a bond like neither of them had ever had before because of that blessing in disguise. He had often wondered what would have happened between them had none of that occurred. He was sure that he and Tim would have remained friends; there wasn't any doubt in that. But how different would their friendship have been? Tony huffed. He'd thought a lot about it after "Gran'dad's" funeral, but eventually he let go of the whole matter. It really wasn't important. All that really mattered was their current relationship. An unbreakable brotherly bond.

Their friendship had begun to grow not long after their return. The loss of Miguel had dealt Tim a heavy blow; Ortiz was his best friend. But no one really knew how deep Tim's pain ran. He was able to keep it hidden well. It was the soldier in him that told him he needed to fulfill his duty and put his grief aside. But Tony had seen him in those solitary moments, often by the moon pool, mourning his lost friend, sometimes with tears in his eyes. The first few times Tony had seen him, he had left the man alone to grieve. On one occasion, however, he couldn't walk away. He hadn't intended to go anywhere near the moon pool; but somehow, without realizing it, he had walked off the mag-lev onto sea deck. (Apparently, that's what he gets for having his head in the clouds. So he thought at the time.) Spotting Tim, he turned to leave; but something just wouldn't let him do so.

He hadn't intended to go there, but he found himself there, anyway. Tim was sitting against the wall, almost completely hidden from view, with his knees pulled up and his arms folded and resting across them, staring at the moon pool. He turned to walk away and leave the lieutenant be, but something kept prodding him to stay. As he walked over to Tim, he wondered if anyone other than him had ever seen Tim sitting there. If they had, had any of them bothered to stop and say something to him.

'Or was he the first?'

Tim appeared to be oblivious to his presence. He had probably been that way with anyone that may have come through. So if anyone had noticed him, they likely just left him alone.

"Hey, Tim," Tony said, sitting down next to him.

"Hey, Tony," he replied softly.

Tim hadn't bothered to try and hide the fact that he had been crying. Though he had learned over time, from both personal experience and from stories he'd been told (most from Miguel) that Tim tended to wear his emotions on his sleeve (much like himself), he didn't expect the lieutenant to let them flow so freely like he was outside the privacy of his own quarters. He was rather surprised, really. He hadn't expected Tim to cry so openly. The lieutenant's anger and frustration was one thing, but this….

'Maybe Tim hadn't been as oblivious to his presence as he had thought.'

Few words were exchanged between the two of them. There didn't need to be. He realized that. Tim didn't need words. He just needed somebody to be there.

"Hey, Tim," he said after a long silence.

"Yeah."

"If you ever want to talk about it or just need somebody to sit with…I'm here."

"Thanks, Tony," Tim replied, a small but genuine smile crossing his face.

"You're welcome," he replied.

As he started to stand, Tim spoke, "Hey, Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you mind stickin' around a little longer?"

Tony smiled and sat back down. "Not at all, pal."

seaQuest

Thanks for reading. The next chapter will be up when I get motivated to do so. Reviews are appreciated.