Author's note: I'm ten years late watching this movie. I watched it a few days ago on the advice of aethershine. The movie wasn't perfect, but the ideas grabbed my attention. I wanted to dig deeper into the emotional development of some characters. Here is the result.

Disclaimer: I don't own Equilibrium, any poem by Yeats, or any song by Pink Floyd.

So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,
Blue skies from pain,
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

Pink Floyd, Wish You Were Here

Viviana

You have no idea. How many nights are sleepless now. Prozium grants us deep, dreamless sleep, that's one of the drug's side effects. I can't tell you where I've heard this, but I have. I guess I have always been on the lookout for a reason to cease my dose.

One night, I skipped a dose. I wouldn't be able to tell you why. It was instinctive. Maybe my mind was yearning for dreams. Maybe the residual human nature Father said Libria had eradicated was still there, deep inside me, stirring. It was scary, but I did it anyway. I had a plan. The next morning, I would smash the tiny vial against the porcelain of the bathroom sink, and I would let the water wash away the splints and the golden liquid.

I went to bed next to you, trying to keep my heartbeat steady. The drug hadn't completely worn off yet, but you were so good at detecting anything suspicious, I was afraid you would notice my treason right away. You didn't. You were lying on your side, facing me. My heart gave a little leap, something it had never done before. But you just looked at me for a second, you said goodnight and closed your eyes. Just like every night, you acknowledged that I was in bed with you, that everything was normal, and you fell asleep almost instantly.

I rolled over on my back and sighed. I knew my last interval of Prozium was still coursing through my veins, but soon I would be free. Somehow, something was already happening. Soon, I would be feeling - dreaming. I had no idea what it would be like. I was scared, and yet my whole body was tensed in anticipation. I laid like this for an hour, two hours, and I couldn't go to sleep. Finally, I turned around and looked at you.

You were not sleeping soundly like I thought you would. I had been too absorbed in my own sensations to notice. Your breathing was faster, and your fist was clenching the sheet. I didn't know what was happening. I had always slept so soundly - our children, too - I didn't think there was another way. And then, it dawned on me. You were dreaming. Despite the doses of Prozium, the drug you had taken every day since you were born, despite the even heavier doses Clerics were required to take, you were still dreaming.

In all the Tetragrammaton ceremonies I had come to with you, every government official had praised your infallible instinct. I was honored to be your wife - that the government had paired us to share a home and raise children - and I hoped this kind of compliments meant you would go far. I had never asked myself - how could Prozium not have killed any sort of instinct in you? It had killed it in me. If you died during one of your raids in the Nethers, the only difference in my life would be the new man they would pair me with. If they took Robbie or Lisa and shot them in front of me, I would feel nothing.

You sighed in your sleep. You sounded so innocent. A killer like you - innocent.

Suddenly, my throat clenched. I couldn't breathe. My face contorted in a grimace and my eyes burnt. It was terrifying. What was happening to me? Was that a stroke? Was I dying? Something hot streamed from my eyes onto my face. I wiped the liquid with my fingers, expecting the vivid red of blood. It wasn't red. It looked like water. I tasted it. It was salty. When I was least expecting it, my throat contracted another time, a shudder raked my body and a dry sound escaped my mouth. I clasped my hand on my lips, willing them shut. Fear of being discovered by you seemed to make this weird condition stop.

With one last glance at you, I got up and quietly walked to the children's bedroom. I had never been there since they were old enough to sleep through the night. I sat on a small stool between their beds. They were sleeping so peacefully I felt a stab of pain in my heart. Was their sleep so sound because they were children, or because they were under Prozium? I didn't dare consider the second option. I lightly laid a hand on Robbie's back, another on Lisa's curls. The warmth emanating from their little bodies seemed to warm me to my core. I resisted another urge to cry. I now understood what that unexpected condition was. It was an emotion. That was me, feeling. I took a deep breath to steady myself and I watched them sleep.

Robbie and Lisa were yours and mine, but like us, like all the children in Libria, they had been conceived in the Lab of Reproduction. When we were little, they told us how children used to be conceived, and how they were born in the old world. They made it sound like a horror story. We were thankful we would never have to go through this.

They had taken reproductive cells from us the day we got paired and they had kept them, waiting for the right time to make the children - when Libria would need a certain number of babies to keep the pyramid of ages steady. After our cells were taken, they sterilized me. They never sterilized the men. I had never been struck by the injustice of it before tonight. Sex was not forbidden in Libria, but its purpose wasn't reproduction. Sex was just the exception, not the rule. During our pairing ceremony, Father's officials said we could do it sometimes, as it helped cleanse the body. Since we were paired, we had had sex twice. I hadn't felt any better after, and neither had you, so there was no reason to repeat the experience.

They had handed us Robbie, and then Lisa, without prior notice. Each baby came with a manual of instructions, just like our fridge and oven. We followed them coldly, because it was our duty to ensure these babies lived.

I touched my stomach. I had never carried my own children, and suddenly I ached for it. Libria was doing everything for a reason - and they certainly knew there was no feeling more powerful than the tiny glimmer of love that a woman feels at the first signs of life inside her. The tiny glimmer of love that sparks between two people who know they are expecting a third. Love was the first feeling they wanted to uproot from "human nature". My hands almost curled into fists at this thought. I swore I would love these children with all my heart. I would make up for all the time lost not loving them. I didn't know how that would happen, or how it would feel, but I would do it.

One thing I was sure of: I was already in love with you.

You have no idea how hard it has been to hide my crime from you. Every morning, every night, I smashed the capsule of Prozium against the sink and washed it away. It was harder to skip the intervals during the day, but I soon became the expert of opening the shooting gun against my side, sliding out a capsule with my thumb, and pretending to give myself a shot with the empty gun. There was always someone in the crowd who would tread on the vial and break it.

In the evening, when you came back home, I had to suppress the urge to run and hug you - or just smile at you. You have no idea how sad the lives we live are - not until you cease your dose. My natural instinct was to smile at you, touch you, laugh as you would take your children in your arms and kiss their foreheads. What could be so wrong about it that Father was so intent to stop it?

Every night, as you drift to sleep, I watch you. I never knew how beautiful you were until I started feeling. I can't get enough of looking at you, and I can only do it when you sleep. I don't think anyone perceives beauty under Prozium. The first time I saw you, during the pairing ceremony, I thought you looked strong and healthy, a perfect partner to raise children and make Father proud. The kind of husband who would make a brilliant career and provide for his family. That was all. My heart rate was just as steady as any other day. And now, just looking at you sleeping peacefully, how fast it beats! How beautiful the world is when you stop taking the drug!

One night, I made the mistake of moving closer to you. I reached up to your face and caressed your hair, touched your cheek. I couldn't help myself. This could be my only chance. I leaned in closer and kissed your lips. It was a very light kiss, but it still woke you. Your dark eyes flew open and you looked at me. I was scared. I was certain at this moment that you knew. But, amazingly, you didn't do what I expected. You reached up with your hand, cupped my head and returned my kiss. I don't know what made you do that. It was the middle of the night, and your dose of Prozium was probably running low in your blood. There was something in your eyes that told me I was safe. I let you kiss me. We made love that night. Or rather, you had sex, and I made love to you. My whole body and mind were overcome with powerful emotions. It was all I could do not to tell you how much I loved you. I could see in your eyes that the dark fire that had been there a few moments ago was gone, and that you weren't feeling anything anymore. It should have been the happiest moment of my life with you. It was the saddest. After that, I never attempted to touch you again that way.

You dream every night and you probably have no idea. You're so different, John. Your dreams are my clue. Prozium is just the surface. It anesthetizes you, but you're still capable of feelings. I don't know how you go on, doing what you do, adding new sense-offenders to your killing list every day. I can only hope this is not who you truly are. I can only hope you will be able to forgive yourself one day.

I have come to love Robbie and Lisa too. I love them so much it's painful. But it's also so wonderful I wouldn't give up this feeling for the world. I'm less careful around them, which is probably not very wise of me, but I just can't help myself. When you're not home, I hug them tight, taking in the scent of their hair, of their warm little bodies. They usually let me hug them and kiss them. They don't know that it's wrong yet. They don't know what their mom is, not yet. One day - because I know this can't last forever - they will have to live with the knowledge that their mother was a sense-offender. Thank goodness their father is the highest-ranking Grammaton Cleric to make up for this disgrace. Also, deep down, I hope they'll remember the hugs and kisses. I hope they'll remember the warmth. I hope they'll remember the love.

This kind of knowledge may come in useful someday - and this is my greatest hope of all.