Disclaimer: The usual, of course. Characters, setting, etc. don't belong to me, yadda yadda.

Notes: This is set right after "The Very Long Night of Londo Mollari", with references to "Atonement". One thing to remember is something Dukhat told Delenn about the Dreaming: "The Dreaming takes you forward, the Dreaming takes you back." That being said, please R&R. Enjoy!


Lennier stood at the window, staring into hyperspace. He had meant to spend the morning meditating, but the task had proved impossible. Leaving Delenn had been hard, harder than anything else he had ever contemplated doing. He had told her that joining the Anla'Shok was the calling of his heart, but that was not entirely true. His true calling was at her side, and they both knew it. Why, then, did he feel so unnecessary, so unneeded? He had been replaced, in many ways, by Sheridan, and that stung. He knew she cared for him; how could she hurt him like this? He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to think about her.

He moved away from the window, restlessly pacing the small room. Nothing made sense anymore. He didn't know where he belonged, how he fit into the grand scheme of the universe. He missed the simplicity of his life back at Temple. He missed Delenn.


The simple routine of training among the Rangers was something of a relief after the unpredictable chaos of Babylon 5. In some ways Lennier was grateful for that simplicity. He knew exactly what was expected of him at all times, and it never varied. The problem with simplicity, of course, was that it wasn't a challenge. He had become used to expecting the unexpected, and while his instructors encouraged such thinking, his life quickly became dull. More troublesome was the fact that he had far too much time to think. The combat training was exhausting and the academic studies were stimulating and difficult, but the extended meditation sessions were pure torture.

His instructors noticed, finally commenting that for one from the Religious caste raised in Temple, he had more trouble in the meditation classes than the rest of the students combined. His reply was that he had some 'personal issues' to deal with. They questioned his reasons for joining the Rangers.

"Why did you wish to join the Anla'Shok?"

"Marcus Cole was my friend. I wished to continue his work, in honor of his memory."

"Honoring another's memory is not enough. Why did you wish to join us?"

"I have told you."

"Go. Meditate on this. When you have found your true reasons, you may return to your training."


Lennier spent the next two weeks in his room, trying to meditate, trying not to think about Delenn. It was like trying not to breathe. He did not eat, drank only a small amount of water, and tried to forget. Finally he was summoned before the instructors, to once more explain his reasons for joining the Anla'Shok.

The interview went badly, worse than before. Dismissed and humiliated, he returned to his room, once more instructed to meditate. It was useless. Delenn invaded his thoughts at every turn. Sometimes he slept, and she was in his dreams. He would wake with her name on his lips, her face in his mind. He left his quarters to wander the halls, staggering from one support to another, weak from lack of food.

He stumbled into a deserted chamber, one he recognized. Feeling his way along the wall, he found the recessed alcove where the steaming hallucinogenic drink was stored. Opening it, he took a sip and groped his way to the door opposite where he'd entered. The massive door opened, and he stepped into the mist.


He was on a White Star, running through the corridor. He rounded a corner and saw a crowd of people. He pushed his way through until he could see. Delenn knelt on the floor, cradling Sheridan's lifeless body. She looked up and saw him, accusation in her eyes. 'You did this,' she seemed to say. 'You killed my husband. TRAITOR!' He looked away.

The mist swirled around him as he gasped for air, lost for a moment in his own mind. There is nothing to fear in the Dreaming, he remembered, only that which we bring with us. Delenn had said that, the last time he had been here. Where was she now?

The room was empty. Through the window, Lennier could see the Ranger compound. He looked around. The room was decorated in a blend of Minbari and Human styles, reflecting its owners. Delenn entered, dressed in mourning colors. He stepped toward her, one hand outstretched. She looked at him, her expression distant and unreadable. She smiled sadly, shaking her head.

"You should not be here," she said, her tone gentle.

"I had to see you," he replied. "Delenn . . . "

She turned away. "You have done enough." She seemed to be waiting for him to leave. When he did not, she spoke again. "I am tired, Lennier. Leave me. I wish to be alone, now."

"There was a time when you feared to be alone. I promised that you would never be alone. Would you have me break that promise?"

She turned to face him. "You have already broken it. You chose this path for me. Now I must walk it. Alone." There was no recrimination in her voice, no accusation in her eyes, only a gentle, tragic acceptance of her fate.

"Delenn . . . "

He reached for her, and the vision faded. He spun in place, looking for her, and fell. What had he seen? Had he somehow done this? Why was he even here? He whispered her name, a charm against the mist, a spell to summon the visions.

"Delenn." He stood in the doorway of her bedroom, watching her brush her hair. The setting sun shone through the window, reflecting off the crystalline walls to bathe her in a golden glow. She was beautiful, an example of perfection. "Delenn."

She set her brush down and turned to face him. Her eyes lit up when she saw him, and she launched herself across the room. "Lennier! You came back!" She flung her arms around his neck, kissing him soundly. "I've missed you."

"I missed you, too, Delenn," he whispered, hugging her tightly. It felt right, to hold her thus, as if they were made for each other. She seemed in no hurry to let go, and he enjoyed the sensation, reluctant to let it end, afraid she might never let him get this close again.

At last she pulled back, just far enough to look at him. She studied his face for a long moment, tracing it with her fingers. "You've changed," she said softly, still caressing his face. "I like it." She kissed him.

It was a sweet, passionate kiss, and he returned it wholeheartedly. She pulled him toward the bed, tugging at his clothes, never letting him go. He followed her, and by the time they fell onto the slanted surface, all obstacles had been removed.

He was content to let her lead, savoring the moment. Each touch of her hand was fire, igniting his body. She was soft, pliant under his hands, each gasp and moan fuel for his desire. She toyed with him expertly, keeping him on the edge until he couldn't take it any longer. He pinned her beneath him, claiming her, body, heart and soul. She surrendered to him, her cries of ecstasy mingling with his own. You belong to me, now, he thought. I love you, Delenn. She mumbled incoherently, and he kissed her. They slept.

He woke with a start, mist swirling around him. He was cold, stiff, lost. Where was he? Who was he? He crawled blindly, wanting to find a way out of the mist. He encountered a wall, changed direction at random to follow it. He circled the room, finding no hint of an exit. Delenn, he thought. I must find Delenn. He continued along the wall, somehow pulling himself upright, feeling his way. He fell through the door.


Lennier woke in a hospital room, an IV in his arm. His memory was fragmented, unreliable. He remembered the visions, especially the last. He remembered trying to meditate, unable to think of anything but Delenn. He remembered the interview with the Anla'Shok instructors, demanding to know his reasons for joining. He remembered the mist, cold and unforgiving. He remembered weakness, hunger, pain. He remembered Delenn, the pure joy and love on her face at her wedding. He remembered her pained, confused, lost expression when he told her in no uncertain terms that he was leaving. She had reached out to him, tried to understand, and he had pulled away. Run away.

A Human doctor entered the room. After a cursory examination, he left, only to return with three of the Anla'Shok instructors. He stepped out, closing the door behind him.

Lennier waited while the instructors studied him. He knew they were judging him, weighing his recent actions. His answers to any questions they might ask would be important as they decided whether or not to let him continue his training. He only hoped he had the right answers.

"Why did you seek to join the Rangers?"

Lennier considered his answer carefully. He knew his reasons, now, but the phrasing was as important as the meaning. Finally, he spoke. "I no longer belonged where I was. I . . . was unneeded, extra. I lost a friend, a Ranger, and found I wanted to take his place among the Anla'Shok. I . . . left an intolerable situation, in search of a new purpose, a new meaning. I believe I have found that purpose, here, among the Rangers."

The instructors were silent a long time. Then, "There is more."

He hesitated. This was intensely personal, not something he could share lightly. He settled on a compromise. "There is one, a close friend. I hope to become . . . better, for her. I wish to . . . gain her respect." That was the truth, as much as he could share. It would have to be enough.

The three instructors exchanged glances briefly, then nodded. "When you are released, you may resume your training." They swept out, followed by the doctor, leaving Lennier weary and confused.


None of the other trainees inquired about his absence. The Minbari were too polite, raised to respect others' privacy, and the Humans – well, many of the Human trainees had colorful backgrounds, and joined the Rangers in an effort to start a new life. They had adopted a policy of 'don't ask, don't tell' about their fellow trainees' backgrounds and occasional unexplained absences. A few gave him curious looks, but he easily ignored them. Only his training mattered now.

Despite having missed three weeks of the training cycle, Lennier quickly moved to the head of the class, pushing himself hard. He put in extra hours of lessons, volunteered to practice combat training with others far too often. He slept as little as possible, plagued by dreams inspired by his visions in the Dreaming, and limited his meditation to the required sessions. At the end of the training cycle, he remained in Tuzanor, reluctant to return to Babylon 5. If he did, he feared he would not return. His heart still called for Delenn, and he dared not tempt it further.


A/N: The first flash is an alternate outcome of events in "Objects at Rest" - anyone who's seen the episode should recognize it. The second flash is a sequel to that - after the funeral (which Lennier did not attend), but before he leaves forever. The third flash is unrelated, but is part of a possible future where the crucial incident in "Objects at Rest" never happens, but Lennier is frequently absent for years at a time as a Ranger with no family. Sheridan has been gone for several years at this point, and Lennier has never visited since the move to Minbar.