Letting Go

(A Ghost Story)

Standard disclaimer applies; not my characters or settings or backgrounds. But they are my words.



Floating, disembodied in the darkness, she couldn't feel anything. That wasn't quite true, when she concentrated; she realized that she could feel pain, pinpricks of intense burning pain, all over her…body? There was no sense of movement, just the pain, and now a strong metallic taste, like steel would taste if you could eat it, cold and sharp. She felt as if she was suspended from wires, each one attached to one of the points of pain; somehow embedded firmly into her flesh, yet constantly trying to rip free. The smell of blood washed over her, coppery and tangy with salt, mixing with the taste of the steel. Where was she, and what was happening to her? Suddenly, a flash of light, and she could see again. The points of light were stars, each one as hot as the blazing suns they actually were, and she was tethered to them with white-hot wires. Fiery pain cascaded into her. That's what was pulling her, those stars, pulling her towards something, tearing at her, yanking her forward. That was when she heard the screams…first the harsh metallic scream of the ship, and then her own.

Jerking into awareness, as if slapped awake, she saw she was walking down a corridor. Humans and aliens walked as well, down the metal hallways of some building. It might be planetside, a station, or a ship; she couldn't tell. She felt dizzy and disoriented, like she was wandering in a dream. Attempting to stop to ask someone where she was, she realized in horror that she had no control of her motions. She was being carried along, with no conscious volition. Pausing in front of a display, a map of some sort, she could see a distorted reflection in the glass. It was her body, much as she remembered it--slim, red hair, wearing the standard shipboard uniform issued to scientists on the Icarus. Continuing her journey, she strove to remember what the Icarus was…a ship, she thought, one on which she had been traveling. Something had happened to the ship, something horrible.

Stopping in front of a door, she entered a code, obtained she knew not how, and the door opened. A woman, an alien woman in a robe, was standing inside; her eyes wide with shock and recognition. She dropped a crystal globe when the entity possessing her announced. "I'm Anna Sheridan, John's wife." She recognized the name. She was Anna, or had been Anna. The alien woman turned and retreated, practically fled, into an inner room, and she could feel the grim satisfaction of her occupier. The entity possessing her walked over and picked up a shard of broken glass, running the sharp edge across her palm, and she watched the blood bead up where the glass penetrated deeply enough. I know you're awake, Anna. I need you awake right now. Don't try anything, or you'll never get this body back. Relax; you'll like this part.

Returning to her original position at the doorway, her fist clenched shut to stop the bleeding; she watched as John, her husband, emerged from the bedroom, his expression a mixture of stunned surprise and anguish. The alien woman, now dressed in formal robes, left hastily, to the entity's glee and John's obvious consternation.

Flooded with memories, she didn't hear clearly what was said at first; she just looked at him, as shocked as he seemed to be. He looked older, and tired. There seemed to be some grey in his hair. She realized she had no idea how much time had passed since they'd last been together. It was obvious the entity controlling her body had an agenda of its own, and she started listening, while still trying to pin down her errant memories and determine what had happened to her. She heard the story the entity told, and it felt correct in most aspects, although the shudder she felt at the name of Z'ha'dum was not allowed to manifest physically. She wondered what was holding John apart from her; why he seemed hesitant to even touch her.

Then, at last, she found herself in his arms. She had no idea how long it had been since she'd held him, but the feeling of sweet security his embrace always brought her was welcome in her confused state. Clinging to him tightly, she ran her hands up his strong wide back, as ever reveling in the feel of his muscles under her fingers. The entity was quiet, allowing her physical freedom, but not the freedom to speak. When they broke apart, she found herself wishing she could stay there, the only place she now felt safe.

John led her to the ship's medical facility, and left her there with the chief doctor. The entity smiled and chatted brightly with the doctors and technicians examining her. The tests they ran gave her time to think, and think hard. If she was going to get out of this, she needed John's help. She had to find a way to let him know that she was there, inside, and that there was someone else controlling her. The entity in charge of her body obviously wasn't going to allow her full access to herself. She kept snapping in and out of awareness, which left her confused and shaken. At times, she could control her movements but not her speech, at others her speech but not her movements. It was intensely disconcerting, and she assumed John was also uncertain and upset. She swallowed hard as she remembered the other woman in his quarters. Pushing aside those feelings, she tried to concentrate on her immediate problem; getting her body, and her life, back. As for going to Z'ha'dum, her every instinct told her it would be a grave mistake, and she hoped that John would not fall for the entity's strange story of misunderstood aliens. She didn't really remember them, but her instinctive revulsion and fear told her they were not benign.

After she returned to his quarters, the entity began to tour the room, looking at items, touching them; allowing her to remember what she felt about them, gathering information. When John returned, the entity continued to make its case; not allowing her any speech or movement of warning. She wanted to scream in frustration when he agreed to go along with this thing that had possessed her. Now she had to work even harder at breaking through. Whatever else happened; she knew, somehow, that they mustn't go to Z'ha'dum.

Once safely on board the ship, the entity allowed her more freedom. She was attracted to the unusual lights on the wall of the command deck, but when she touched one, the entity could not stop itself recoiling. The explanation the thing gave sounded false and glib to her, but John seemed to accept it. She kept trying to let him know she was there. The entity didn't always stop her attempts. It would let her recount a story from their joint past, or tell a joke they had once shared; but it always stopped her short when she ventured near the subjects of the Icarus, the Shadows, or Z'ha'dum.

So she persisted, but the entity kept grabbing back control. Periodically she would black out, then come to in the middle of a conversation with John, obviously having said something that had made him wary. She would try to reach out, and just when they would fall back into their old ways, control would be removed again. The entity didn't seem to see it, but she could tell that her husband remained reserved, almost withdrawn. He smiled and talked easily with her, but she could tell he was holding back. She couldn't seem to break through to him.

After two days of this complicated game, and two nights trying to sleep on those absurdly tilted beds, she was growing tired and pessimistic. Nothing she seemed to say or do got to him. She had even attempted to seduce him one night, although she didn't see how sex would be possible on those torture devices. Hoping that the intimate connection would show him she was still there, she had tried her best, but he remained aloof, declaring that there was plenty of time for that later. The entity seemed amused by her attempts. She had almost run out of ideas, when he announced they would arrive at their destination later that day. Finally she decided if she couldn't reach him through love and memory, she would try anger. They had fought occasionally, as most couples do; perhaps she could get a reaction that way.

"So," she began challengingly, nervously waiting to see if the entity would interfere, "What was Delenn doing in your quarters when I arrived?"

He started at the name, and bit back his first response, which was 'none of your business.' But of course it was her business, if she was his wife--which she wasn't, he told himself firmly. Still, he had to play along. "She's a friend."

Anna arched one elegant eyebrow, "A friend? In a bathrobe? Was she trying yours on? Is she in the market for one?"

John felt his temper rising. Anna had always been able to get under his skin faster than anyone else. She knew him better than anyone else. "We didn't know you were going to stop by, all right?" he said sarcastically, hoping the anger he was feeling would mask the pain he had been suppressing for days.

She saw right through him. He was in agony over this other woman. She fought back a pang of intense jealousy-- he had thought she was dead, after all. It was only right he had moved on. Still, she continued to probe, hoping he would finally see it was her. "I thought she was a Minbari…she doesn't look like one. What happened to her? Was it an accident, or did she do it on purpose?" Her voice was deliberately provocative.

He stared at her for an instant with open loathing, which was quickly hidden, "She is Minbari. And part human. She's…she's…" His voice faltered, and he ended quietly, "It's not important anymore." Avoiding her gaze, he walked away, saying, "I have to get the ship ready for arrival. We only have a few hours left."

Anna stared after him for a moment. He had it bad for this Minbari woman, that was obvious. Then she sat down, letting her head fall into her hands in despair. That had been her last, best shot at reaching him. They would go down to the surface, and whatever these aliens had planned for them, she would remain a prisoner. She could tell he was suspicious of the entity. He would never know she was still there, trapped inside…suddenly her head snapped up. She could feel the satisfaction the entity was radiating; but why was it so pleased? Then her mind flipped and twisted, and she saw clearly what she had done. She was responsible for leading him here. The entity had let just enough of her true self through to keep him off-balance. He didn't trust her; but she had given him enough details and memories that he wasn't certain. If he thought there was a part of her that could be saved, he'd come to her rescue. If there was even a slight chance to free her, he would take it. Now she realized that she'd done exactly as the entity had wanted. She finally realized, with shattering clarity, that she was never going to be freed. What was left of her memories and mind would be discarded once they had John. How could she have been such a fool!

The entity was becoming agitated at her state of mind. It's too late; she heard, as the alien voice slid coldly through her mind, sounding like the rustle of dead leaves. We're almost there. There is nothing you can do.

Anna knew she had to do something. Her actions had led him to this place, and that was a mistake she had to make right. It might not change anything; it might not even work, but she had to remove herself from the equation. Maybe if he no longer saw any of her in the thing traveling with him, he would feel free to put his own interests ahead of hers. She began to concentrate on freeing herself. As hard as she had fought to control her body, now she fought to divorce her thoughts and feelings from it. Let the entity be itself for a while. Maybe John would see that there was nothing left of her; nothing to save, nothing to rescue, nothing left for him to lose.

As she struggled internally with her captor, it laughed cruelly at her efforts. I will not let you go.

Realizing that she could not prevail by force, she tried to calm herself, and logically think through her options. In her fractured glimpses of reality, she'd come to realize dimly that her personal situation was part of some larger conflict. If John was involved, she was firmly on his side. She could see only one hope, and it was a slim one. Perhaps the only way to win in this perverse situation was to give up the struggle. She suddenly knew she could do this, and she would-- if it meant a better chance for John. Feeling the entity's apprehension, she responded coolly. I will be free, even if the only freedom I can find is to accept my fate. Breathing an unheard sigh, blinking back tears from unseeing eyes; she focused inward; willing detachment, letting go. Good-bye, John. Take care. Be happy.

The entity felt the bond dissolving, but managed to send one last triumphant message to its former captive:

We have arrived.

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John was sitting in his chair on the command deck when he felt something ruffle his hair. It felt almost like it used to; when Anna would fondly run her hand over his head, her slender fingers gently separating the strands of his hair. He smiled sadly. The time spent with the thing that occupied her body had been hard to take. It looked so much like his wife; and sometimes…sometimes it seemed like she was still there; like she was looking out from its eyes. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the doubts. He'd seen Dr. Franklin's report. She had been taken by those things, and they had used her, and his love for her, to get him to do as they wanted. That was a decision they would regret. He would make sure of it.

Anna smiled as she watched him covertly study the entity as it walked around the command deck. The muscle in his jaw jumped, his eyes narrowed, and she knew that whatever his doubts; he was determined to go on. Whatever was driving him was important; she could tell. She couldn't stop him, but it didn't matter. The important thing was that she was no longer there to tempt and distract him. Somehow she had broken free, and was no longer bound by the pain—her pain, and his pain. She just hoped he would survive, go back to his life, maybe find love again. She prayed that when the time came, he too, would be able to let go.