"May I help you, sir?" asked a young female flight attendant. Lennier looked up at her, shook his head silently, and watched her continue down the aisle. He was on his way out-- in a few hours he'd be far away from here-- far away from anybody he could hurt.

The message came over the PA system to buckle up for the take-off. Complying, not really caring, Lennier rested his hands in his lap. He stared at them, trying not to cry. He felt that he could cry, but there were no tears to shed. He had done what he had done out of madness, and he felt the loss of everything that he'd held dear for the past five years fall heavily out of his hands. His whole body was shaking from nerves, but his mind was numb. Saddened, his thoughts drifted to those he was leaving behind. Their faces came to his memory, but the one that struck him the most was that of Magen's. Without realizing it, he had grown as accustomed to her as he had with Delenn. As the transport took off, Lennier filled himself with memories, hoping that somewhere, somehow, his telepathic companion would understand. But still, even so full, he felt empty. He supposed that empty was his life now; in his own way, he made himself believe that though he was alive, he would never live again.

Later, on B5:

Lennier, gone. She tried again and again to find him, but she was too weak and he was too far away by the time she'd received the news. Sarah groaned. /Oh, Lance, why? Why did you do it? Why? / She knew why: Delenn. Right away, as soon as she'd been revived again to receive treatment, she'd been able to read him without even trying. She didn't have to get inside his head-- she just automatically knew what he was thinking. She'd observed Lennier and Delenn and John, and had known right away what was bound to happen; she knew that Lennier loved Delenn, and that Delenn and John would hurt him badly. The two of them together had pushed him too far without even realizing or intending it. She'd seen the way that Lennier looked at Delenn, and ached for his gaze on her in that special way.

She and Lennier had a deep understanding of one another. During the months that she'd yet again been revived for treatment, they had somehow been undeniably drawn to each other, and unable to explain or defy what had attracted them, they had become fast friends. They had become very close-- almost as close as he felt with Delenn. When they were alone together, sharing tea or talking or whatever, Lennier became a totally different person: he was funny, kind… outspoken, even. He was no longer the shy shadow of Delenn- he was just plain Lennier. He'd been there for her-- a silent companion, an excellent listener, and a wonderful conversationalist. The others didn't know him like she did-- for some reason they never even tried.

And she had grown to love that part of him, the part that he shared with her. There were so many factors that separated them, but Magen didn't care. In her mind, in the secret places of her soul, she ached for Lennier to turn his gaze to her as a lover, and not a friend, all the while knowing it would never happen. Nevertheless, she swore she would never leave him. No matter what happened.

Lennier had just tried to kill John in a fit of madness. She understood what the implications were; knew that he had turned his back on her when he'd fled the Whitestar and not looked back. There had been no message, no explanation waiting for her when she heard the news.

But she wouldn't turn her back on him. He would be back in her life someday, and she'd be there, waiting for him, arms open. All he had to do was ask. She only hoped that he would.

Two months later:

"So, what is it Doc? How much longer do I have to live?"

Dr. Steven Franklin looked up at the youthful-faced, pretty girl sitting wrapped up in a blanket on the Medlab bed. Her calm, level, mismatched eyes met his. She blinked, and cast her eyes downward.

"So when do I go back into cryo?" she whispered. Steven stood up, came around, and put an arm around her small form, emaciated by the months of treatment. She leaned into him, as though trying to find comfort, but really trying to get warm. She'd been so cold lately.

"Tomorrow morning, Oh-Seven-Hundred; I'm so sorry, Magen…" His voice shook and finally broke.

"That's okay," she said in a small voice, but that voice was calm and accepting, not frightened of going into cryo for the third time in 263 years. "Just promise me one thing."

"Anything."

"If you see him, or hear from him, tell Lennier that I'm sorry I couldn't wait for him to come back. Tell him… You tell him I said to wait for me, Goddamnit, or I'll kick his sexy ass to Hell and Hades the next time around." Steven chuckled. Magen was the daughter he'd never have-- he'd tell a Drakh to go to hell if that's what she'd wanted him to do.

"You got it, sweetie."

"Thanks, Doc."

"You know, you can call me…"

"Steven-- I know. Thanks… Steve." Not for the first time, he watched her get up and leave Medlab. He shut the door to his office, and cried.



One week later, on Mars Colony:

Lennier sat down heavily on the bed of his small, cramped, one-room apartment that he'd been living in for the past six weeks. The news had just reached him, like a punch to the stomach:

Magen. In cryo. Again.

And it was too late to say good-bye. His sources on Babylon 5 had done their level best to tell him as soon as they could, but what with security being upped the way it had been, the news had been awful late in coming. There was nothing he could do now- no way to sneak in and say a final farewell. He'd probably never see her again. Damn!

This was the second time he'd lost someone he loved; there was no turning back now… now that there was nothing left for him to turn back to. Despair washed over him, and tears fell from his great eyes, slid down his pale face, and were lost in the fabric of his shirt. It overtook him; overloaded his senses to the point of saturation, drowning him in a desert of loneliness.

Back on B5:

Dr. Steven Franklin stood silently in his plain cloths in front of the cryo tube that held the body of Magen Hawkins. Slowly, he picked up his backpack and the hat that she'd given him for his birthday. He turned, and headed out of Medlab, studying the datapad that his source had delivered to him that morning. It contained everything he'd need to know-- all he had to do now was board his flight to Mars.

He had a promise to keep.

One week later, Mars Colony, Lennier's apartment:

'So, this is where you've been hiding,' thought Steven, 'Very good, Lennier. I almost didn't find you.' He stood in front of a battered door in a dirty hallway of an apartment building complex in the seedier side of Mars Colony. Urine stains, mud, dust, and a few other things that Steven didn't care to have identified covered the hallway floor to ceiling, making a reek unlike anything he'd encountered before. But if this was where Lennier was staying, then this was where he needed to be. Saying a prayer that Lennier was in, he raised his hand and pressed the doorbell.

The door slid open, and Lennier, tall and gaunt, stood facing him. 'Lord, there's almost nothing left of him!' thought Steven. Lennier regarded Franklin with an uncaring, bloodshot gaze for a few moments before gesturing for the doctor to step inside. Steven shifted his knapsack higher on his shoulder, and stepped in. He shut the door firmly, then bolted and double-locked it. 'One can never be too sure about Mars Colony,' thought the doctor, stalling a little for time. He turned around, confronting Lennier with a gaze that would've been concerned except that as soon as his eyes met Lennier's depressive state, he was keenly reminded of Magen. Anger bubbled up in his core, overriding his doctor's instincts.

"I have a message for you," he said coldly, a tone he didn't know he possessed, "Magen said to wait for her. But of course, it's too late for that, now isn't it?!" Lennier just gazed up at him, the very picture of depression, meekness, and suffering. It seemed to Franklin that the caring had been brainwashed out of him, leaving him a husk- a shell of the Lennier that used to be. It angered him even more. Lennier challenged his eyes levelly, blinking back sleep-glue. Steven had never been this angry before- - not even when Michael had confronted him about his drug addiction.

So he did the only thing that came naturally with that much anger: He hauled back his right arm, and punched Lennier right in the face.

Shock was the first thing that came to Lennier when the Doctor punched him in the face. Following immediately was so much pain, he thought his head would burst. The last thing he remembered was Steven's face hovering in a blur above his own.

The year 2267, Excalibur, Medbay:

"Are you ready, Doctor?"

"Ready, Captain!" They had all gathered in Medbay today, to watch Dr. Sarah Chambers revive one of history's greatest accomplishments-- Magen Saskia Hawkins. She had been the first human to be successfully cryogenically frozen, and had remained so on and off ever since January of 2009. It was a miracle she'd survived the primitive method with which they'd originally frozen her with-- much less being revived on and off for the past 258 years!!! Sarah had great respect for her, and she sensed as much from the crowd that had gathered to watch.

She depressed the button that began the revival process.

And watched her world blow up in her face.

Lt. John Matheson had been watching the process with a wary eye. He had a bad feeling about this- something just didn't feel right.

His suspicion was confirmed when Sarah-- no, Dr. Chambers-- depressed the button that would begin the revival process. No sooner had she lifted her finger than wires short-circuited and sparks flew everywhere. Hoses detached, and waved fanatically around the room, hitting the beautiful doctor in the head. She fell to the floor, escaping further damage other than bruises.

Matheson reacted faster than he knew possible. He was clearing his security code with the door's computer and dashing inside before he realized that he should probably duck to avoid the crazy hoses and flying sparks. He rolled beside Sarah's body, dragging her out the door as fast as possible. She chose that instant to come back to consciousness, sitting bolt up right and giving them both a good crack to the skull. He reeled backwards, but was supported by Gideon as Dureena and some nurses grabbed the doctor and hauled her to a gurney faster than either of them could protest.

A sudden quiet filled the room. Everyone stilled. There was a banging coming from inside the cryo tube. Sarah instantly tried to get up, but her staff restrained her.

"I'm alright, I'm fine," she announced grouchily as she yanked her arms back. Her eyes met Matheson's. "Thank you," she said thoughtfully, before directing her attention to the cryo tube. She drew closer to the glass that separated it from the rest of Medbay. The banging grew louder. Intrigued, the whole crew stepped closer.

Suddenly, the sound stilled for a beat, then the hatch of the tube flew open from a mighty kick, making everyone jump. Sarah fell back into Matheson, who instantly put his arms around her to steady her. Surprised, she leapt forward, and turned to see his surprise as well. "Holy shit!" exclaimed Max Eilerson, speaking, it seemed, for the entire speechless crowd of Galen, Gideon, herself, Matheson, and Dureena. She whipped around to see what had caused such a reaction.

Out from the cryo tube stumbled a woman who looked like a good breeze would blow her away. She was too thin, and coughed viciously from the cold haze that encircled the small room. She caught her balance on the glass walls, and raised her head to look at them.

Galen watched in fascination as his blue eyes, the color of forget-me- nots, met the eyes of the young woman in the glass room. Hers were mismatched- one was steel gray, the other a pale violet color. Her nose was small, refined, and slightly turned up. Her long black hair fell in front of most of her face, obscuring the view. But from what he could tell, she would've been beautiful if not for her extreme thinness and the raw, daemon-haunted eyes that stared back. Those eyes flicked over the entire room and those assembled in it, but they came to rest on his gaze. He shivered-- out of what he couldn't tell, but he felt suddenly very much like he had found a kindred soul with her.

Mismatched gray and purple eyes met sky-blue ones, and she crumpled in a heap to the floor.

Coming out of the daze first, Chambers reacted sharply: "Get that gurney in here, now!" she yelled, and whipped around. Pushing everyone aside, she lunged for the door to the enclosure, grabbing two oxygen masks that hung just outside the hatchway. Strapping hers on, she cleared the computer, and made like the devil for Magen, who lay unconscious on the metal floor. As she lifted the emaciated body in her arms, Sarah could feel the cold seeping through her lab coat. It was a cold unlike anything she had ever felt-- sharp and biting, demanding and taking warmth from whatever it could… it felt like death.

So did the limp body in her arms. Thoroughly scared, Sarah could only react mechanically to what was happening. Even if her mind didn't know what to do, the rest of her sure did. "We have to get her warm and stable!" she yelled. Alarms sounded off, a path was being cleared for the gurney, and helping hands lifted Magen onto the bed. "Get all unnecessary personal out of here!" she yelled, "I don't want anybody underfoot who shouldn't be here! Matheson-- Stay!" He whipped around in surprise, as did everyone else leaving Medbay. "We might need you to establish communications if she doesn't wake up," Sarah explained. She met his eyes, and he nodded once. She had also called him back for another reason she didn't want to admit to anyone yet, least of all herself. Pushing personal feelings aside, she got back to the task at hand.

An exhausting six hours later, Sarah emerged from surgery. The others were there to meet her. Matheson, sensing her tension, eased towards her side. Gratefully, not really caring who it was giving her the support she needed to stand up straight, Sarah stumbled and leaned into him. She sighed as he held her up for a moment. Then she pulled away, all business. Matheson let her go, even though she could barely keep her eyes open. "It's done," she said, "Magen is in stable condition. But," she added, "She lapsed into a coma while in surgery. I don't know how long it'll last." Gideon had his arms crossed, resting his chin in his hand with a finger on his lip-- a position he often took when thinking hard about something. Max leaned on an empty examination table, his face very serious. Everyone seemed to be hit by what had happened this morning-- even Galen's face held a stony expression. Which for him, meant that he was thinking very hard and couldn't make sense of something. Whatever it was, Sarah was too tired to care.

"Do you want me to try something?" Matheson asked quietly. Everyone looked sharply at him. "Well," he said, "She is a telepath-- I might just be able to establish some kind of communication with her that way." Gideon looked skeptical and everyone else looked hopeful. "Just let me try it, Captain, I believe it would work," John added firmly.

Gideon sighed. "Doctor?" he asked, turning to Sarah, "What's your opinion?" Sarah flicked her dark gaze over captain and lieutenant. "I think you should let him try," she said finally. Matheson gave her a small nod, but Sarah only met his black eyes briefly before briskly showing them into where Magen lay.

'Oh, God, there's nothing left of her!' thought John, as he entered the small cubicle Sarah-- no, Dr. Chambers-- had set aside for her. Magen's small form was almost swallowed up by the examination table. Tubes ran in and out of her too-thin body, IVs penetrating the blue-white, milky- pale of her skin. Her bones jutted out sickeningly from underneath the Medbay gown her small form was practically drowning in. She was covered in so many blankets she looked to be wrapped in a cocoon. Matheson drew nigh to her side, almost afraid to touch her lest he break something. He had to make contact somehow, though, and touch was one of the best ways.

Gideon and Sarah watched him approach the unconscious and barely stable girl lying pathetically slight underneath all the thermo-blankets piled on top of her. Conflict was warring in Sarah's mind: she knew that she had to contact her patient somehow, but doing it mentally was risky. She had just gotten the poor woman stable, and who knew what would result from a telepathic connection? She trusted John-- no, Lt. Matheson-- but Magen was her patient, and Sarah felt very protective of her for some reason.

Gideon was having similar thoughts to that of the good Doctor's. He hated to see his friend worried, and he could tell that she was. He liked Sarah-- hell, she was the best advice he'd ever listened to-- but she worried too much sometimes. He had complete faith in Matheson, but the boy followed the rules a little too much. He needed to take some risks-- and Gideon knew this was a risk for him. Regulations said that he couldn't do this without permission from… well, screw it! Gideon trusted him, and contact had to be made somehow. The people who made up the new regs could just go fuck themselves, for all he cared…. Getting communications established somehow was just top priority right now, rules and regulations be damned!

Matheson took a deep breath, and graced the curve of Magen's face with his hands. Immediately, a shock wave hit him, almost sending him reeling from her side. The mental attack came without warning, nearly sending him into retreat. But he fought on against the onslaught, trying to establish some calm in her mind. He very nearly didn't succeed.

But at the last moment, when he thought he could hold out no more, the attack abated. Wonderingly, he felt himself probing gently.

/Who are you? What do you want? Why are you inside my mind?/ That didn't take long!

/My name is Lt. John Matheson. I'm with Earthforce. You're on the starship Excalibur, commanded by Capt. Mathew Gideon. I just want to establish a line of communication with you. When you came out of Cryo, something went wrong and you're in a coma. Doctor Sarah Chambers is attending to you. I volunteered to enter your mind to see if I could get a response./ You're babbling, old boy!

/I see. So… where do we go from here? And what the hell year is it?/ Magen's mental voice was like amber- all beautiful and golden, but cold to the touch. What did that mean? He hoped that meant something good.

/Hopefully, we can get you well again, or at least conscious. The year is 2267. You've missed a lot! But hopefully we can get you caught up when you awaken./ he sent her mental pictures of the Excalibur, her crew, but refrained from showing Magen what she looked like. He didn't want to alarm her-- he'd already given her too much information. He was getting tired-- her initial attack had been pretty strong, and he hadn't been prepared for it. All this mental sparring was wearing on him. If he didn't do something soon, he was going to pass out. Magen seemed to sense that.

/Listen,/ she said, /You've done enough. Sorry about attacking you, but I thought you were Psi Corps. Thank you for… communicating with me. I'll be better in no time-- trust me on this one. Meantime, you need some rest, seeing as you're just a P9./ And with that, she gave him a mighty shove mentally, and he was out of her mind. He felt that he was caught up in a whirlwind of some kind before finally coming back to himself. He opened his eyes, and looked at Gideon and Sarah-- er, Dr. Chambers. He grinned in spite of exhaustion.

"She's fine," he said, and yawned, "But madder 'n hell for missing so much. She'll be better in no time. Oh." And he promptly fainted away into a dead sleep.

Mathew and Sarah caught the young Lt. as he fell to the floor, his head barely missing the edge of Magen's bed. Their eyes met over the body of the childlike-faced Matheson, and Gideon wasn't sure, but he thought that Dr. Chambers said "The back room". Together, they lifted the slight man and carried him to a room obscured from the view of the main chambers of Medbay. Still not speaking, using silent communication, Gideon and Sarah managed to maneuver Matheson onto a bed that stood unmade at the far corner opposite the entrance. Gideon had not known this room had existed, and though it and the unmade bed surprised and intrigued him, he kept his poker face plastered on.

Matheson looked so pale and deathlike when they finally got him situated on her makeshift bed that Sarah reached out and took his pulse. Only faintly reassured when she felt it beating steadily under her fingertips, her hand lingered for a moment on his cool skin. Sarah caught herself and checked the mistake, praying Gideon hadn't noticed. She was more like his older sister than somebody he could take an interest in and she didn't think that Gideon would particularly like having his chief medical officer and his second in command dating each other. She snuck a peek at her commanding officer and was startled to see that he had left already. She didn't know whether to be irritated, alarmed, or relieved. Well, she was a practical person after all, and didn't believe in dwelling on negative emotions (she did NOT want to go there again), so she decided to forget about it… for now. Chambers sat down next to Lt. Matheson and took hold of his hand again. No use going back to work, she thought, My shift is over anyway. I'll just stay a few more minutes and make sure he's okay. And with that, she promptly fell asleep.

As soon as he left the mysterious Dr. Chambers in the back room with his second in command, Gideon was met with the faces of his friends' expectant faces.

"Well," said Max when he didn't say anything right away. Mathew grinned: "'Well', what?" he asked innocently. Dureena hid a smirk, and burst out laughing when BOTH Eilerson and Galen shot her glares hot enough to melt stone. Mathew chuckled at the little scenario he'd just caused, but he relented.

"Well, Matheson got through to her, but he was so exhausted that he passed out after first contact. I gathered from the way that he was reacting at first, she had him under some pretty hefty firepower. He did manage to tell us that she was mad at missing so much time, but he didn't get to say much before his exhaustion took over and he fainted." He looked at his friends; they all had concern written across their faces, but they looked hopeful. He felt a great swelling of pride that he had such a fine crew… and such fine friends. They were a motley crew, all right, but they had something special that most people spend lifetimes trying to discover.

The next day, it hit him-- right as soon as he opened his eyes.

The beautiful Dr. Chambers hitting him in the head with her arm as she turned over on her side… with her shapely legs encircled around his waist!… awakened John Matheson, who had never even kissed a girl. Oh, Dear God, what has happened! I must be delusional! he thought, At least, I hope I'm being delusional! I can't afford this kind of distraction right now! He squeezed his eyes shut, praying that his secret fantasy wasn't coming true now of all times! This was the last thing he needed! Please go away, please go away, please go away! he silently pleaded with the beautiful woman sleeping beside-- er-- on top of him. It felt strange to be praying that the one thing he wanted for himself would disappear. Slowly, oh, so agonizingly slowly, he disentangled himself from Sarah Chambers. He hoped to hell that she wouldn't wake up or stir in her sleep-- his libido wouldn't be held on the backburner for much longer! The bulge in his pants was proof of that.

Finally, he got himself out of her sleep-enduced embrace. Relieved, he scrambled out of the hidden back room as fast as he could. Thankfully, the hallways to his quarters were mercifully empty. He'd have died of embarrassment on the spot if someone had seen him in this state! Once in his quarters, he hastily changed into a new uniform (silently thanking God that boot camp inspections got him in the habit of keeping all of his cloths spotlessly neat), and ran out into the hallway. He was halfway to the bridge when he realized that today was his day off. Red-faced, he turned around, and headed sheepishly back to his quarters.

Two minutes later, in Medbay:

He couldn't believe how thin she was; he'd never seen somebody look so deathlike in his life, and yet still be alive. Isabelle had looked like that after the attack- only she had been bruised and bloody as well. And dead. The familiar pain swelled up in Galen's chest, like a hungry wave-- sharp and biting like wolves coming in for the kill.

She looked so dead-- like there should be wounds to account for her current state of health-- but no bruises or blood showed on her milky-blue- white skin. It was eerie to look upon, but yet he couldn't tear his eyes off of her. The look she had given him-- he shivered at the memory, remembering her uncannily mismatched eyes.

It had felt like electricity-- like she had been searching desperately for something; like how he had felt when Isabelle had first said: "Hello." It scared and unnerved him-- he didn't like it one bit. There was something there-- Galen couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He heard something, some sort of whisper, and turned around to see what it was. But nothing was there. Strange, he thought, I could've sworn there was somebody behind me! Ah, it's nerves-- you're being paranoid. Shouldn't get like that-- it can be the death of you!

/Yes, it can./ The mental voice stunned him so thoroughly that he immediately threw up defenses he had learned long ago to establish. What!!!?

/I said: 'yes, it can.' Or are you dense?/ Who the bloody hell are you? And what are you doing in my mind? How did you get inside my shields?! Get out! /Is that any way to treat a guest? My name is Magen-- obviously! I'm trying to find out what the hell I've missed-- but so far, nobody can contact me! Except that charming young man, of course, but he's just a P9-- he's too exhausted to be of any use to me. But you're not-- can you help me?/

How the bloody hell do I get myself into these things?! I should've just stayed in my bloody ship this time! /Well, there's no need to take it out on me! I didn't do anything to you-- at least, I won't unless you give me a damned good reason to. Don't want to make a mess of things, now, do I?/

Galen took a deep breath. So-- Magen was searching for answers, and his shielding against telepathy was useless. The mental voice was silent now, but his nerves told him she was still there. He wondered briefly what she might do if he refused to talk to her, but then decided that it might not do any harm. Besides, he thought wryly, she could pick my brain anyway without my consent-- she's strong enough. /Now, why would I do a thing like that?/ The mental voice of Magen Saskia Hawkins sounded thoroughly annoyed. That caused him some slight amusement. /And anyway, people would get mad, I'd have to go back to sleep, and then there would be all kinds of trouble-- wouldn't there? Look-- I'm not gonna hurt you. I just want some answers-- I'm sick and tired of nobody talking to me! And you seemed like you wanted to talk to me./ She has a point there, Galen admitted, surprised at himself and at her directness. You don't miss much, do you? /Only when they put me back under./ Galen chuckled at that. /That's not funny!/ she stated calmly. Yes it is! /No it's not!/ Yes-- it is! You sound like Mathew, now. /The Captain?/ Yes-- how did you know? Ah, Matheson must have told you. I see-- well, what is it that you want to know? I'll do my best, but really, you should be asking somebody else-- I'm not here often enough to give you the good answers. /That's okay-- I don't care. I just want some sort of an idea of what's gone on in my "life" that I've missed! Even just general information would be… comforting is the word, I suppose./ Ah, well, in that case I assure you I can help. /Thank you. I really appreciate this! Nobody is talking to me… well, what can you tell me?/ Well, let me think… /While you're thinking, I just want to say that it's a pleasure to meet you. Sorry-- I didn't really give you a chance to tell me your name--/ Galen had to laugh at this ancient and belated form of introduction. She was so amusing-- he hadn't laughed like this in a long time! He just wished… Ah, well-- it does no good to wish, now does it? No, well then: My name is Galen. /How do you do?/ How do you do? Galen laughed-- he was really enjoying this. It was so strange that this girl could do this to him when so many others had tried and failed. Oh, Dureena and the rest of the pack could make him chuckle every so often, but nobody could make him outright laugh anymore… /Well-- are you going to talk to me or not?/ Magen asked kindly, but Galen could sense that her patience was wearing thin. So he began as clear to the beginning as he dared go…

* * * * *

Oooohhhh, he was going to pay for this! I'll kill him, she thought furiously, I'll strangle his scrawny neck! I'll pick his heart out with a spoon!

Doctor Sarah Chambers was beat-red with fury: Matheson had left Medbay against her orders. Somehow, he had slipped out of the room after laying her in the bed. Oh, was he going to pay! She was just furious!

She stalked down the corridor to the bridge. She was going to find him and kill him-- Mission: Seek and Destroy. Period. She would probably find him on the bridge, and if not, she would ask the Captain. Red-faced in anger, she stormed onto the bridge. Crewmen saw her coming and immediately got out of her way.

Matheson was nowhere in sight. Neither was the Captain. Sarah turned on her heels, and left the bridge. Now, she was even angrier. Just as she was about to go back to Medbay, some inward force (Women's intuition) guided her feet to his quarters. Turning left, she walked down Corridor 24 until she found his rooms. The door swooshed open as she was allowed inside. Matheson was sitting on the couch with the Captain seated across from him. They both looked up as she entered.

"Uh, Matheson? I'll, uh, I'll… see you later," said the Captain, and he hastily left. "Good-bye, Sarah," he added once he was out the door. She turned to him, but the door closed, so she swiveled around to face Matheson. He squirmed uncomfortably on the couch, turning a beat-red. His forehead beaded with perspiration and he wrung his hands nervously.

"What in the HELL did you think you were doing?!" she screeched, "Sneaking out of Medbay like that-- without my permission-- after oh-so- gently laying me down to sleep! What did you think you were doing? Being efficient?!" She was in full-storm mode now, voice reaching the operatic tones of a trained singer. Matheson winced visibly under her tirade. He was still turning shades beyond scarlet, but his hands were now clenched white-knuckled at his sides, shaking. I wonder if I should tell her that SHE lay down with ME? Matheson snuck a look at her face. Nope, don't think so. Telling her now would probably do me a WORLD of good right now-- oh yeah, and also get me KILLED!

/So that's it, eh?/ Yes, it would seem so, Galen answered. /Well, I've really missed a lot. Say, you think that once I'm really awake again that they'd let me contact some of my old friends?/ I don't see why not, said Galen after some thought. Then, for some reason even he didn't know, he added: I could deliver some messages for you, if you like. /You would? Great! Thank you, so much!/ Startled at her enthusiastic reply and still recovering from the shock of his own-- what would be the proper term?-- friendliness, he nodded in response before he remembered that she couldn't see him. Right, well, you're… uh… /Welcome?/ she supplied amusedly. He blinked, and grinning at the obvious humor, affirmed her statement.

He noticed that he felt a bit warm. Usually, with the air circulating and being recycled so much, Medbay was cool enough to cause an initial shiver. But, even so, he was comfortable now. He thought he smelled the smell of Earth forests after a rain-- damp soil and green and lush.

Just as quickly as it happened, it vanished. Galen studied Magen's face. Hesitantly, he lightly touched her arm. /Don't do, that-- it tickles!/ Galen smiled-- when had he last been this light-hearted? Then I won't, he said blithely, thoroughly intending to due to some impish impulse he couldn't explain.

/I'm tired,/ he heard faintly, /Still a bit weak from… cryo. Think we can… talk… tomorrow… Galen?/ When she "talked", he distinctly felt exhausted himself. Come to think of it, I could use some rest myself. /Sorry… forgot… how tiring it is for…. you who… don't.. have the… talent. I can… only… imagine./ Don't worry, he replied, I'll be fine in a little while. I'll stop by tomorrow… to talk. Or whatever this is called. He felt her smile-- it felt like sunshine!-- before the feeling faded and he could sense that she was resting peacefully. Failing to suppress a yawn, he shook his head to clear it before heading out the door.

Indeed, Magen was resting… but it was not peacefully. Images—memories-- from a past life flew up to greet her subconscious mind. Voices, barely recognized through the fog of time, cut as viciously as they had when she had lived her own life. Earth… a husband, a family… terror, fear, nausea… the sickening knowledge that… One image in particular reared up, and her body couldn't take the abuse anymore.

Her heart stopped.

Alarms went off, screaming for attention. Medics rushed in immediately, trying to revive her. Somebody called for Dr. Chambers as they breathed into her and pounded on her chest to force air into her lungs. The bottom had fallen out: blood pressure dropped, pulse was zero, stats flat across the board… except for brain activity.

Dr. Chambers rushed in, beat red with exertion. Her eyes were wild as she quickly surveyed the problem. No! This can't be happening! Reaching Magen's side, it was almost as if she could here Magen saying over and over to herself: don't panic, don't panic, don't panic-- aw, shit-- don't panic, don't panic… Pushing nasty thoughts out of her mind, Sarah set to work to bring Magen back to life again.

A tingling sensation sent shivers up her spine. Whipping her head around, she glanced at Galen, Mathew, Dureena, Max, and Matheson staring fixedly at Magen. Some small, far-back corner of her mind wondered detachedly what the hell they were doing there—but she had more pressing business. Magen's life was drifting slowly… the "Don't panic" mantra formed on her lips, silently. Blood drizzled out of Magen's ears and mouth.

"Shit! Hey-- what the hell do you think you're doing, buddy?!" Sarah whipped her head up to see that Matheson had pushed his way into the room. His eyes, she noticed nervously, were totally black. Opaque. And his face—livid. She involuntarily took a step back from Magen, but John (Matheson, dammit Sarah!) grabbed her hand with a sudden move. He clamped his hand down on Magen's arm. With a rush, she was… Elsewhere.

She didn't know where. There was no feeling except that of being supremely grounded and pulled and exhaustion...

Images flared up in front of Matheson's eyes. Inside Magen's mind, it was a war zone. Everywhere he turned, there was fury and blood and fear. Her mind was like an erupting volcano of massive proportions under the psychic attack. But how had her walls come down? How could a telepath as strong as Magen come under something like this? He shuddered, and felt the pull of Sarah Chambers. In the sudden attack and cry for help from Magen, he had let his telepathic impulses lead him to his anchor when he charged into Medbay. For some reason, he had grabbed onto Sarah—Chambers, dammit, John!

Magen's mind roiled and bucked as she was dissolved to helpless jelly in the face of the nightmares that had been her lives before this one. Violence, fury, hatred, terror… My God, how did she survive? /Any way I could, now please help me!/ Her cry of distress let him focus on her for one quick second. But it was enough to allow him to establish a connection deeper than the one they'd shared before. Much briefer, too, for the presence that had invaded her mind detected him. A wall of rage hit him, and he was slammed out of the inner space in nanosecond. But not before he'd anchored Magen to himself… He felt the pull of Sarah (not bothering to correct himself this time), and struggled to return to the surface of the mental river.

But Magen was holding him down. Almost like a dead weight, her mind had blanked out. She was still connected to him, but she was suffocating him as she clung to hope. So it was with a final, desperate push from her that he landed himself back into his body and left her dwelling in darkness without end. He saw Sarah's astonished face through a haze of red and black, then knew nothing more.

"I can't explain it,"said Sarah for the hundredth time that hour, "But it's like she's dead without the dead part. She's all there-- body, mind, all in health as good as can be expected—but it's like she's dead. A state of limbo, you might call it."

"Limbo?" Galen almost spat the word in his bitterness. His gaze on her was sharp, intent—piercing. Just like diamonds—hard. She felt the caustic rue of guilt settle deeply into her stomach, and the bile rose in her throat. Barely containing the emotion, she tried to suppress all feeling save professional urgency from contaminating her voice and appearance.

"There is nothing I can do," she repeated for the hundredth time that hour. Galen looked away, staring out the viewport. Matheson came up behind her, just standing there. His presence both unnerved and comforted her… she didn't know what to do. The only one who did was in… somewhere.

Gideon wasn't saying anything. He wasn't moving, either. Dureena and Max where leaning against a table, side by side. They looked as though they wanted to lean on each other, Sarah decided, grateful for the slight distraction. She shivered—she could still feel the horror of Sarah's mind. The turmoil, the distress, the helplessness of it all… Chambers didn't know what was worse-- having to live with a life like that, or experiencing it from the outside like she had. Knowing that there was/is nothing she could do.

Dureena had a knack for reading people—she didn't know where she got it from, but she could always do it. She could tell how Chambers felt, and that she and Matheson desperately needed each other. But right now Dureena's instincts told her that she wanted to be held very, very badly… by Max Eilerson! And if his body language was anything to go by, he wanted to as well! In the wake of the moment, though, she didn't know if it was a good idea. She was still so… messed up inside. The events of this morning had made it impossible to focus… She needed to breathe. Quite suddenly and quietly, she slipped from the room, angry with herself for being so selfish.

And at the moment, she didn't care if anyone came after her. She knew a way to help, and she was going to do it, Goddammit, and no one was going to stop her!

Ten minutes later, she'd booked her course and packed her bags. Checking everything over one last time, she secured her credit chip in a hidden pocket and headed out. Max Eilerson was waiting outside her door, bags in hand. He met her eyes seriously, and nodded a greeting to her. She stared at him a moment, thoroughly bewildered, then decided that it was for the best. With a jerk of her head, she assented. They headed down the hallway together, racing against time, for all that they were walking like a pair mourners at a funeral.

Sarah sat down beside the emaciated form of Magen's body. Or should I say corpse? Ah, hell, I don't know. I wonder… Steeling herself from the cold, she laid a smooth hand on Magen's arm. Her skin was the touch of death—cold beyond the imagination, sucking life and warmth wherever and whenever it could. She took the bony, fragile hand into her own, and held it against her cheek, shivering from the frigid contact. With a violent lurch, she launched herself out of the chair, toppling it. She ran to the storage cupboard, grabbed another heated blanket, and dashed back. She tripped over the forgotten chair, and swore aloud to the air. Sarah blushed, feeling absolutely ridiculous, and bent to retrieve the blanket. Turning the chair right-side up, she suddenly felt… I guess I really don't have a way to describe it… It's like… being partially empty…?

And then she knew that someone had left the ship. It was almost like a piece of her—some molecule or atom—had been yanked unexpectedly away, so subtle was the prick of the mental needle. Sarah knew then and there that she wouldn't see Dureena or Max for a long time… only how long would that be? Unnerved, confused, uncertain of her very being, Sarah gently covered Magen with the blanket. "Sleep well, Magen," she whispered, "Help is coming soon." Then she looked through the walls, mind's eye seeing the long road ahead of them.

"Just be careful, guys," she whispered at the back of destiny as it walked in front of them all.

Matheson felt Dureena and Max go, but decided not to mention it to anyone. He had sensed what was going on between them for awhile now, and he knew that they needed each other. And Lord knew that if they knew a way to help, they were sure as heck going to need it; he didn't know how much longer Sarah—Chambers, dammit boy!—could hold up on her own. He sure as heck couldn't do anything; he'd already tried—and look what'd happened! No, the best thing for everyone would be for him to keep quiet about it. He concentrated on the last of his duties, and noted the time. He's late, as usual, he thought irritably.

The thought no sooner passed his mind than Aarons showed up for duty… late, as usual. He sighed and shook his head as the young man took his place at the helm. And he'll likely get a promotion before I do simply because he's "normal", Matheson thought acidly, I get half the credit for twice the workload. He left the bridge, taking the turbolift to Level 6, where his quarters were.