Oh, no.

"Just…just a moment," Lennier called back, but though he mustered every decibel of volume he could, he doubted she could hear him. He made another attempt to stand, but it was no use.

"Lennier?" Delenn called again, sounding a little closer to him this time. And then she was standing in the doorway, and he heard her gasp his name. Humiliation clawed at his already uncomfortable stomach at her having found him like this. And then she knelt down next to his crumpled form and he saw in her eyes that awful worry he had been trying so hard to prevent, and knowing he had caused that was the worst thing he had felt over the past four miserable days.

"Lennier, what is it?" Seemingly on instinct, she took his hand in one of her own and reached out to cup his face in her hand with the other. She winced when she touched his skin and felt how feverish he was. The love and concern in her eyes crumbled Lennier's resolve completely. He had failed in protecting her – he had gone and given her yet another thing to worry about. He tasted self-loathing that was as bitter as the bile in his mouth. But after four days of bearing this alone and continually getting worse, he had to admit that the oasis of her touch brought him just the smallest bit of relief.

"I don't think I'm well," he murmured helplessly.

"I would agree." Delenn looked from Lennier's prostrated form, to the toilet, and then back to Lennier again. He doubted she had any difficulty drawing the proper conclusions. "How long have you been ill?"

"Um…" He swallowed hard past a throat raw from acid exposure and tried to sit up. Delenn slipped a hand behind his back and helped him until he was able to lean with his back against the toilet. "Four days?"

"Four days?" Her gray eyes widened with horror. "Lennier, why didn't you say something?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered, staring at the floor, too ashamed to meet her eyes. The stupidity of what he had done suddenly hit him like an oncoming asteroid. Had he sought help at the beginning of all of this and rested rather forcing himself to continue working, he might not have gotten this ill. And then maybe Delenn would not have been quite so worried. "If I had the opportunity to do it over again, I would have told you. But you have been under such pressure with the new Council that I did not want to worry you. And I knew you needed my help, so I...I hid it."

"You have not been to Medlab?" He shook his head, dreading the reaction which came less than a second later. "But Lennier, you know you are supposed to see Doctor Franklin immediately if you fall ill. You should have had your antibody titers checked days ago! You could be coming down with sepsis right now! Oh, how could I not have seen this? Four days and I never even noticed something was amiss." She looked frightened and guilty and horrified, and Lennier's regret nearly overwhelmed him.

"Please do not blame yourself, Delenn," he whispered, finding that he needed to pull forward more strength to continue speaking with every sentence. But he had to make her see that none of this was her fault. "You did not see that I was ill because I did not want you to, not through any fault of your own. And I had my titer checked the day before I started getting sick," Lennier reassured her. "It was fine, and I have been taking my injections twice a day since then."

The sharp edge of Delenn's fear seemed to dull, but that awful worry still dominated her features.

"All right," she murmured. "There is that, at least. But you still should have said something and seen the doctor. I came so close to losing you last time, Lennier…" Her voice trembled and she broke off, her bottom lip trembling.

"I know. And I'm so sorry, Delenn. I…I do not know what came over me. I tried to keep you from worry but all I've done is make everything worse." His voice broke and he stared at the floor once again. He felt Delenn take both of his hands into her own, but in his shame, he did not look up at her until she began to speak.

"Do not be sorry, my dear. I know you did what you did because you thought it was the best thing for me. I wish very much that you had not done it, but I know you well enough to understand your motivations in this matter. And I also know you well enough to know that you will torment yourself about this to no end. So please know that all is forgiven, Lennier." Exhausted though Lennier was, he searched her gaze thoroughly, and he saw that she was not just saying this to make him feel better. "I do not want you feeling guilty about anything, all right? You need to focus all of your energy on getting well."

"All…all right," Lennier whispered. He managed a small smile in return for her much bigger one, but the effect was ruined as yet another wave of nausea washed over him, and he failed to suppress the whimper it elicited.

"Have you been vomiting since all of this started?" asked Delenn, her anxiety becoming even more apparent when he nodded.

"I…I thought it was only a virus that would go away in a day or two. But I just kept getting worse. I can't keep anything down, even water. And I've got the worst headache I've ever had," he whispered hopelessly, his face contorting into a wince as his head throbbed on cue.

Delenn bit her lip. "You are probably terribly dehydrated. We must get you to Medlab. Come, you can lie down on the couch while I call Doctor Franklin – it is closer than the bed."

"Oh, Delenn," Lennier murmured hopelessly. "I don't think I even have the strength to stand."

He did not miss yet another flash of concern in her eyes, although she concealed it quickly. "Well, it is a good thing I am here to help you then." She held out her hand with a soft smile, and he accepted it. Then, she slipped her other hand around his back and pulled him as gently as she could to his feet as he used her as an anchor against his spinning world. It was an apt metaphor for their relationship, he thought with an ironic inner chuckle. But just then he swayed dangerously, and he was forced to turn all of his attention to not falling over.

"Good," Delenn told him when he was, at long last, halfway steady on his feet. "Now, let us take this one tiny step at a time, all right?"

"All right." Lennier's voice shook with fever and fatigue as he spoke, but he knew Delenn would not let him fall. And so, with nearly all of his body weight resting on her, taking slow and miniscule steps, Lennier finally found himself at his couch. Delenn lowered him on to it, and he immediately curled up on his side. Walking only those few steps from the bathroom had aggravated his tender abdomen and worsened his queasiness again. Delenn brought over a fresh bowl from the kitchen and the blanket from his bed and tucked it lovingly around him.

"Doctor Franklin might make you take this off," she warned him, "but though you are quite feverish I do not think your temperature is at a dangerous level just yet. And you looked like you were having chills."

"I am," he murmured, his voice muffled from where the side of his face was pushed up against the couch. After the coldness of the bathroom tile, the blanket was a welcome change. But though the warmth was an improvement, he could not seem to find a position that did not irritate his uncomfortable abdomen. After several attempts at adjusting himself, he gave up with a defeated sigh. Delenn squeezed his shoulder sympathetically.

"I will call Doctor Franklin now. He will have medicine to help with your nausea." She started to turn away, but Lennier rather impulsively reached out and caught her hand.

"Delenn," he murmured, and she turned back around to regard him with an inquiring expression. "Thank you." And I really am sorry.

"You are very welcome, my sweet Lennier." She pressed his hand briefly before heading over to the BabCom unit on the other side of the room. He heard her speaking, low and quiet, with the doctor, but he did not have the energy to try to discern what they were saying. He shut his eyes and tried his very hardest to ignore the ache in his abdomen and the throbbing in his head and how cold he felt, even with the blanket. After a couple of minutes, Delenn returned and he felt her take his hand and begin to run her thumb over his knuckles. It was the same motion she had employed so often while he had been ill with sepsis the previous year. It had begun as a way for her to soothe him when he had been in the throes of a terrifyingly high fever, but Lennier suspected that it had quickly become just as important in Delenn's comfort. She had been so distressingly worried about him while he had been ill – even when the fever had rendered him confused and delirious he could feel it radiating off of her. Lennier had been so busy dealing with trying to sort out his feelings for Delenn that he had not realized until it was nearly too late how much he meant to her – not as a lover, but as the dearest of friends. She had been there at his side every moment of his illness and early recovery, and she had been a consistent and reliable presence throughout his extended convalescence. He honestly did not believe he could have pulled through if Delenn had not been there for him, but the strength she had conveyed to him had cost her terribly. The worry had taken its toll on her, and Lennier had sworn never again to cause her pain if he could absolutely help it. He had nearly walked away from her forever to spare her agony before she had shown him the error of his thought process.

But he had failed in that this week. Delenn would have been worried at any threat to his health, of course – being ill was beyond his control. But he should have told her sooner. Now he was too weak to stand and so dehydrated he could scarcely see straight. And Delenn was worried, and Lennier could not blame her. He knew he had promised her he would not torment himself with feelings of guilt, but it would take more than words to banish the remorse and self-loathing that racked him just as strongly as his nausea.

Lennier lay as still as he could. If he concentrated solely on the soft, even motion of Delenn's thumb on his knuckles, he could almost block out the worst of the pain and discomfort. A few minutes later, the door opened, and Delenn squeezed his hand and then let go.

"He is over here," he heard her say softly from across the room. "He says his head hurts and that he feels chilled. And he could barely walk from the bathroom to the couch, even with my help. I don't think he's kept a single thing down for the past four days."

"If he really is that dehydrated, it's a wonder he's still conscious." Franklin's voice sounded both impressed and slightly annoyed. Lennier could not blame him. "Every time I work on a Minbari, I am continually surprised at how hardy your people are."

"In general, we are," murmured Delenn, and Lennier heard her voice tremble as she went on. "But I worry so much about Lennier's health. I do not think I can bear to go through a repeat of last year, and I do not know if he can, either."

I will be all right, Delenn. Please don't worry about me. Lennier stirred and tried to sit up, but Franklin, who had reached the couch by that point, laid a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder.

"No no, it's okay. You can stay lying down. I know you're feeling really weak. I just want to get a look at you to make sure you're stable."

"I'm all right," Lennier mumbled, despite the fact that he felt anything but.

Franklin chuckled softly. "I think I'm going to have to professionally overrule you on that one." He waved his scanner over Lennier, and the humor in his expression diminished significantly. "Your heart rate's up and your blood pressure's down, and you've got a temp of one-oh-two. All signs point to severe dehydration, and I think you're a little shocky. When was the last time you urinated?"

It hurt Lennier's head to try to think back – his mind felt sluggish, and suddenly he just wanted Franklin to stop talking to him so he could go to sleep.

"I…I don't remember," he answered honestly. "I haven't needed to."

"Okay." Franklin's voice embodied a practiced calmness, but it did not feel quite genuine. "I'm going to go ahead and take you to Medlab now so we can make sure your kidneys are working okay, and we'll get some fluids into you. I think you'll feel a lot better once you're rehydrated."

"You think there is something wrong with his kidneys?" Lennier's heart broke at the fear in Delenn's voice. One of the sequelae of his bout of sepsis the previous year had been acute kidney failure. With dialysis and careful fluid administration,

Doctor Franklin had been able to buy Lennier enough time for the vital organs to heal themselves. But for several days, there had been a question as to whether or not they would regain full function. Delenn was no doubt having flashbacks to that terrible time.

"It's very likely just the dehydration," Franklin reassured her. "But having one acute kidney injury does make you prone to further episodes, and severe dehydration is one of the things that can mess with your kidneys. I just want to make sure he's okay, that's all."

Delenn clasped her hands together in front of herself so tightly that her knuckles went white, and Lennier felt a sudden flash of anger toward Doctor Franklin. He wished the doctor had told him about this before - if he had known about the possibility of damage to his kidneys, he would have been more likely to go to Medlab when all of this started. But then again, Doctor Franklin had told him to come and see him at any sign of illness. No, this was all Lennier's fault. He had no one to be angry with but himself.

"Okay, Lennier. Do you think you can sit in a wheelchair?" Franklin interrupted his inner guilt trip with the question. Lennier started to nod, but realized that the motion was probably not the best thing for his head just then.

"Y…yes. I think so," he murmured instead. He felt that he could manage, but barely. It seemed as though all the effort he had put into maintaining functionality over the past four days had caused him to be running on a deficit; now that he had finally given in to the illness, he it was as though his body was quickly realizing that every single reserve of its strength had been used up.

The doctor and Delenn helped Lennier sit up slowly, and once the most intense part of the dizziness brought on by the motion subsided, they hoisted him into the wheelchair that Franklin had brought with him. Franklin stepped out to call the nurses to have tests and a bed ready, leaving Delenn with Lennier. The act of sitting was less comfortable than Lennier would have liked – it made his abdomen go from uncomfortable to downright painful, and he instinctively doubled over. Seeing his reaction, Delenn immediately took his hand in both of her own.

"Everything will be all right, Lennier," she murmured. "Doctor Franklin will get you all mended. And I will be right here with you."

That was what he had been afraid of - one of the reasons he had tried so hard to conceal this from her.

"But Delenn, the Council…" Lennier wished he could make himself sound more convincing and less pitiful.

"Needs to learn to stand on its own two feet." Her eyes blazed with that noble stubbornness Lennier had come to admire so much in her – and had begun to emulate a bit himself. "One would think that they are incapable of making any decisions for themselves. When I chose them, I did not think they would require this much guidance. It almost makes me question my decisions."

"Giving them less advice is one thing, but cutting them off completely is another." Lennier found he needed to actively summon forward more strength with every word he spoke – strength which was so depleted he could barely remain in a sitting position. "Delenn, like it or not, you are what is holding our world together. And if it fell apart now, I would feel responsible."

"It would not be your fault, Lennier," Delenn said immediately. "You have done nothing but bring honor to our world, and to me." Lennier's heart fluttered with pride, and he managed a weak smile at the compliment. Delenn went on. "But although I do not like it, I suppose you are right. I was the one who brought this great change upon our people. It is my duty to see them through." She sighed despondently, suddenly looking so careworn and burdened that Lennier's heart broke for her. "But I want to stay with you, Lennier. I swore I would be there for you when you needed me, just as you are always there for me. And if this gets bad…"

"I shall be just fine, Delenn," Lennier reassured her. "Please save your worries for other matters."

"But you do not know you will be fine," she protested. "You cannot be certain. I so very nearly lost you twice over the past year, and I could not bear to live in a universe without you in it. I could not do what I have been without you, Ker'maier Ard'ka."

"I will be here," he murmured. "I have, after all, sworn myself to your side." He pulled his hand out of hers and laid it over them. The fire finally seemed to go out of Delenn's protest, leaving only worry and love in its wake.

"I will at the very least go with you to Medlab and stay there until the doctor has run his tests and you are settled. Then we will see where to go from there."

"Thank you." Lennier, of course, wanted Delenn to stay with him. He would be lying if he said he could not do with some comfort right now, and no one could bring him that comfort in the way Delenn could. But he needed to bear this with strength, even if he felt as though he had none left. Delenn needed to attend to more pressing matters than him, and after the grievous error Lennier had committed, he did not feel as though he deserved to have her by his side at all. But all the same, the thought of her being there with him made him feel as though he could face so much more than he could alone.

A chill struck him just then, and he shivered. Delenn took the blanket from the couch and wrapped it around his shoulders, taking care to tuck it in in just the right places so that it covered as much of him as possible without dragging on the ground where it might be caught within the wheels of the chair. Lennier managed the smallest of grateful smiles just as the doctor came back in to fetch them.

Lennier was not unaccustomed to being pushed through the hallways of the station in a wheelchair – he had been every day for several weeks as he went to and from Medlab for checkups while he was recovering from sepsis. But all the same, he really had hoped he would not have to endure it again, or at least not so soon. It was horribly humiliating, and he hated needing to rely on others for things. Lennier's entire life prior to four years ago had been spent learning that there was no higher blessing than to be able to serve others. After his recovery from his illness the previous year, he had been so happy to be able to attend to Delenn once more – she was, of course, his favorite person to serve. It was not only that he had been trained to do so – it genuinely brought him joy. But now Lennier was weak and helpless again. He could not serve Delenn, or protect her. And knowing that made him feel all the worse.

But as Franklin rolled him to Medlab, Lennier began to find it harder and harder to remain sitting upright in the chair. His short conversation with Delenn had left him utterly spent, and he shivered despite his blanket, hoping Delenn didn't see. Then, just as the automatic Medlab doors slid open to let them in, his nausea returned full force, hitting him like a tidal wave. He curled in on himself with a strangled whimper. Luckily Franklin, with his well-honed attentiveness to his patients' needs, caught the signs just in time. He dove for a nearby supply closet and retrieved a large bowl, whose purpose Lennier imagined might be exactly what he was using it for.

And then commenced Lennier's most painful bout of vomiting yet. It was as though his body had gotten rid of everything it possibly could a long time ago, but had forgotten to tell his stomach. His frightfully sore abdominal muscles contracted hard as though trying to wring out every last thing they could. He tried but could not manage to stifle a soft cry at the pain. It was not until he had finally finished and was left hunched over the bowl, nearly unable to grip it because his entire body shook so hard, that he realized Delenn had knelt down beside the wheelchair and was slowly running the back of her hand repetitively over his temple.

"I know, my dear, you feel just miserable," she murmured. "It is all right, I am right here."

Lennier's insides burned with embarrassment that she should see him like this, but as he shivered helplessly, her soothing voice reached out to his heart.

"Let's get you into bed and get some fluids going," said Franklin once it was clear Lennier was not going to lose control of his stomach again right at that particular moment. He pushed the chair into a room in the general ward, and he and Delenn helped Lennier get into bed.

"See? I made sure to angle it properly this time," Franklin told Delenn with a grin. Delenn afforded him a small smile as she tucked a blanket over Lennier, acknowledging the doctor but keeping the vast majority of her attention focused on her ailing friend. As soon as his body touched the bed, Lennier turned onto his side and curled up as tightly as he could, his torso resting on the angled half of the bed. Franklin soon had a blood sample drawn and an IV catheter in place, and then to it he attached a line containing fluids, Lennier's antibody solution, and broad-spectrum antibiotics. He also set up a syringe pump to administer a dose of anti-nausea medication over five minutes.

"Whether or not this turns out to be a bacterial infection, with your predispositions we definitely want to have antibiotics on board," he explained. "Hopefully this will help keep you from getting a secondary infection while your immune system's down, and keep the Pseudocyanin at bay as well. I want to do a full body scan now – that should be able to tell us if this infection is bacterial or viral, and if it's spread to your bloodstream or not."

His voice quieted as he spoke that last part, and Lennier heard Delenn take a shuddering breath next to him. Regret and self-loathing roiled in his tender stomach again. If he had come to Medlab sooner, there would be a far less risk of this. He had thought he could control this by taking his injections and banking on the fact that his antibody titer had been normal a few days ago. But he realized now that he had been dangerously overconfident. He was not a doctor – he could not see all ends in this situation. If he were now the only one suffering from his mistake, it would not be so bad. But for Delenn to suffer as well…oh, how could he have done this?

Franklin went to make sure the scanner was prepared while a nurse came in to fetch Lennier. As he secured the drip and unlocked the brakes on the cot, Delenn squeezed Lennier's hand.

"I will be here when you come back," she promised him. And though he felt that familiar, badly needed comfort flood through him as she spoke, the situation felt all too horribly familiar - Lennier confined to a Medlab bed, feeling miserable and feverish, with Delenn next to him, reassuring him despite her own fear that all would be well and that she would not leave him. The last time this had happened, the situation had been quite dire. And while Lennier knew that he did not deserve to be spared it happening again, Delenn certainly did. He hoped fervently for her sake that the test results were relatively benign.

The scanner was located in its own room. Lennier knew he had been tested by the machine before the previous year, but he had been very feverish and heavily sedated while it was occurring and therefore did not recall the experience. Franklin and the nurse helped Lennier onto the bench in the scanner. Lennier tensed – the machine was a narrow tube in which his body barely fit. The last time he had been in such surroundings, he had been crawling through the Minbari cruiser's ventilation ducts, coughing in the poisoned air and not knowing if he would meet his death in that claustrophobic tunnel. To make matters worse, the scanner's bench was flat, which he instinctively maligned due to his culture's beliefs that lying horizontally meant tempting death.

And then, as though to add insult to injury, in order for the scans to show up properly, Lennier needed to lay on his back, which he currently preferred much less than his side. Being on his back meant his abdomen was even more painful than before, and he could not obey his instinctive need to guard it with the rest of his body. He squirmed uncomfortably, but Franklin laid a hand on his arm to still him.

"I know it doesn't feel good. It'll be over in just a couple of minutes, I promise. But you have to lie still, or we'll have to redo the scan."

So Lennier did his best to control his shivering as he lay uncovered on the cold table. Despite his efforts, they needed to repeat the scan twice because of his shakes, but finally Franklin signaled to the nurse that they were finished. The instant he was back in his angled, rolling cot, Lennier balled himself up tightly so that every bit of him, with the exception of his head, was underneath the blanket Delenn had given him. Then, while Franklin interpreted the results of the scan, the nurse rolled Lennier back to his room, where Delenn sat waiting. She got to her feet the moment she saw Lennier and immediately began tucking in the edges of his blanket around him as they had been before the scan. He tried to smile at her, hoping to convey a combination of gratitude and reassurance, but he just could not muster the strength. Suddenly, despite his desperate desire to comfort Delenn, he felt as though he could not keep his eyes open. He dozed lightly as Delenn stroked his knuckles with her thumb.

A few minutes later, Lennier opened his eyes reluctantly at the sound of Franklin's voice quietly calling his name.

"Hey, Lennier. I've taken a look at your test results."

Lennier glanced at Delenn, who was still sitting at his side with his hand in hers. Her deeply troubled gaze was fixed on Franklin. Lennier managed to maneuver his thumb out of her grasp and run it a couple of times over the skin of her hand. It seemed as though she needed even more comfort than he did right now. She pressed his hand in return.

"For starters, you'll both be relieved to know that was no evidence of sepsis on the scan, nor is there any evidence of kidney dysfunction." Lennier felt the worst of the tension leave Delenn's hand as she breathed a soft sigh of relief. "Thanks to the fact that you've been taking your injections twice a day, Lennier, your antibody titer is okay – not great, but okay. I'm still going to keep you on a CRI for a while, at least until you start to feel better. According to the scan, the organism causing your infection is viral, not bacterial. We'll run titers to determine exactly what it is. But I have a strong suspicion it's some kind of food poisoning and, between your illness last year and the incident with your lung a couple of months ago, your body just isn't fighting it properly. Of course, had it been brought here and given the tools it needed about three days ago, it might have had a better chance." Franklin paused and raised his eyebrows meaningfully. Chagrin churned within Lennier.

"I know. I made a terrible mistake, and I am not the only one paying for it. My shame knows no bounds, and although Delenn has assured me that I have her forgiveness, I do not feel as though I deserve it."

"Lennier," murmured Delenn, eyes wide with distress. "You promised me you would not worry about this any further…"

"And I am trying," he whispered, shutting his eyes as his head underwent a particularly painful throb. "But I am afraid it is not so easy as that." He could see in her eyes that he was making things even worse, so he fell silent. Franklin clearly saw that Lennier would not be making this same mistake again, and he did not press the matter further.

"Is the ondansetron kicking in?" he asked. "You should start to feel less nauseous any time now."

"I am not experiencing much of a difference, I am afraid." Lennier did not want to be honest about this – he wished so much that he had at least a small amount of good news, especially for Delenn's sake. But he was finished concealing things – it had not worked out well last time.

Franklin furrowed his brow. "Hmmm. I'll boost the dose a little bit and see if that helps. You should try to get some sleep now – rest is one of the most vital things you'll need to fight this. Do you need anything else right now?"

"No, thank you," whispered Lennier, attempting to curl up even more tightly and closing his eyes. What he truly wanted was to be left alone with Delenn, for her to be close to him and murmur words of comfort. But Delenn had more important things to do than sit with him. So Lennier would lie as still as he could and try his hardest not to think about how terribly sick he felt.

Franklin installed another syringe of the anti-nausea medicine into the pump and then took his leave. Once he was gone, Delenn slowly began to run her hand up and down Lennier's upper arm through the thin hospital gown. Lennier opened his eyes, and purposefully met hers. Not long ago he would never have performed such a bold gesture. But Delenn, despite still being his superior in title, was his best friend. And she deserved to be looked in the eyes when apologized to.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, managing to hold her gaze for a full second before lowering his in shame.

"I know. So am I. I should have seen this." Lennier began to protest, but Delenn shook her head, silencing him. "I know you are very good at hiding such things when you wish to, but for you to have been ill for four days and me not noticed that anything was wrong…" She broke off, clenching her fists seemingly on instinct, and then crossed her arms over her chest, as though hugging or trying to protect herself. When she spoke again, her voice was barely audible, with a nearly imperceptible tremor.

"After what happened last year, I swore I would never neglect you like that again. But I have, and of course now you are paying the price for my negligence. I ought to have known you would hide illness from me. With your condition and especially with having undergone emergency surgery so recently, I should have kept a much closer eye on you. You deserve a much better friend than I have been, Lennier. And I am so sorry."

"Delenn, it is I who do not deserve you," Lennier murmured. He wished he could eloquently back up his case as she had, but suddenly he began to feel very sick again, and he had no choice but to stop talking. He swallowed, eyelids pressed tightly together, and Delenn quickly offered him the bowl from the nightstand. But the wave lessened after a few seconds and Lennier was able to open his eyes again.

"We could go round and round like this all day," sighed Delenn. "But I am afraid that self-loathing and regret will not help either of us. When it is all said and done, Lennier, I just want you to get well."

"I know. And I'm trying." Believe me, I'm trying.

"I know you are." She ran a hand from where his headbone met his forehead, tracing his cheek down to the point of his chin. "My sweet Lennier. You have been ill far too often and too badly as of late. For fate to have dealt someone as kind as you such a turn is terribly unfair. But you are brave and strong, and for that I am proud of you."

Oh, Delenn, your words and your presence are of such comfort to me. How I wish you could stay with me.

"Would it be a display of that strength if I gently reminded you that there are calls you should be taking?"

Delenn's shoulders slumped. "Yes. And I know I should go. But you are ill, Lennier."

"You heard Doctor Franklin – it is likely only a reaction to something I ate."

"With you, there is no such thing as a simple illness. And we both know it," Delenn pointed out sternly.

She was right. He could not argue with her. "I am sure Doctor Franklin will let you know immediately if anything goes wrong. Which it will not," he reassured her.

The look in her eyes said that she did not believe in the least that he knew that for certain. She took his hand where it rested on the bed sheet.

"Do you want me to stay?"

"Of course." How could she even ask such a thing? She knew the answer. But he supposed she was trying to give him an opportunity to deal with his guilt. "But we both know there are more important issues that need tending to right now."

Delenn sighed shakily. "All right. I will come back just as soon as I can. You get some rest, all right?"

"All right." Lennier did not anticipate any trouble there. Despite the nausea, the chill, and the pain in both his head and abdomen, he was so sleepy he could barely keep up his end of the conversation.

Delenn squeezed his hand one more time before letting go. And then she was gone, and Lennier was alone in the little hospital room. Once he was sure Delenn was out of earshot, he allowed himself a whimper as he tried to adjust his position on the bed. He was not just nauseous – he hurt. He supposed it was only fair that he suffer more for putting Delenn through was he was. But all the same, he was not at all looking forward to the difficult time which no doubt lay ahead.