Chapter Seventeen: Deja Vu

They had been here before. In just the same situation. Actually, it was getting old. Sickbay. Pitch, standing by the bed, arms crossed. Tyr standing by wall. Trance scanning and re-scanning the comatose Milon, not finding anything physically wrong with him. Suddenly, Pitch turned around and looked at Tyr with his piercing black eyes.

"Will you promise me one thing?" he asked.

"That depends on what it is," Tyr said calmly.

"If we get out of here, Miles and me, and go back home, will you make sure Harper never ever gets in his head to build another channeller? I never want to see this place ever again."

"I would be happy to."

Tyr held back a smile at the thought of getting rid of Pitch once and for all. And when Milon came to, he would have a talk with him. Repair the damage that had been done the last time around. And maybe he would stay. Actually, maybe the two of them would have to stay.

The light had gone; Milon was not shining any more. Even if Harper managed to build another channeller, they would have to find the energy to power it somewhere. The strain on Milon the last time had been too much for them even to consider that option.

"I think he's coming to..." Trance said studying the readouts on her handset.

Pitch and Tyr both took a step forward, waiting for Milon to open his eyes. They did not have to wait long.

"Hey... have I been out long?" Milon asked.

"A few hours. How do you feel?" Tyr said.

"Head's a bit heavy. I'm alright. Are Dylan and Beka... did they get through okay?"

Pitch nodded and stepped right up to the bed, studying Milon closely.

"Do you remember what you did? You channelled them. Never knew you could..."

"I remember. But I couldn't do it again, if that's what you're asking. Whatever that beam did to me... it was like I could just feel the magnetic lines, the forces going through the dimensions... it was pretty weird. I can't feel it anymore though..."
He almost looked a little sad, Tyr thought. And of course, if you had that kind of power and then lost it, who would not feel sad? But then Milon sat up in the bed and smiled.

"So, what now? Are we going or staying or what?"

He looked from Tyr to Pitch to Trance and back again.

"Going!" Pitch said.

"Can you not stay?" Trance asked, but it was hard to tell which one of them she was asking.

Tyr stayed silent. He knew this had to be done, of course, but he would so much rather talk to Milon in private. In his heart he might have decided to let that stony surface down and admit to Milon that he regarded him as a friend, but to say it in front of everyone... he was not quite ready for that yet.

Eventually they left. Pitch and Trance, exchanging some rather mystical looks. Whatever. Tyr took a deep breath and said:

"I think we need to talk..."

"Hmm. You angry 'cos I blasted you with the light thing? Or is it because I said you're not my boss?"

"No... no. I am not angry."

"I know."

That smile again. Why did he insist on constantly threatening to make Tyr grin like a hopeless schoolboy?

"What I was trying to say was... I think you should stay on board. I know that you would be of great benefit to the crew."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes. And also, I have come to... appreciate you as a... "

He was interrupted suddenly as the door opened. Harper stuck his head in, a wide grin plastered on his face.

"Guess who has just completed the construction of a perfectly working, new channeller!" he beamed.

"Nice one!" Milon said, "what about power?"

"Well, I have to say that I have really learnt a lot from watching you in action! We've some sweet readouts from the time space distortion that pulled our two beloved captains back; we've this whole new way of looking at energy... I haven't figured it all out, not yet, but it's just a matter of time. After all, I am a genius!"

"Yeah you are," Milon laughed, "I still only understand about 40% of what you say. And that's when you're not talking about engineering!"

"You are doing a lot better than most of us then," Tyr said, but he could not help smiling slightly at Harper.

"Whatever. Anyway, celebration dinner in the mess at seven. It is considered polite to bring a bottle. Guess that rules you out, Tyr."

He made a face and then darted out the door as quick as he could when Tyr took a threatening step in his direction.

God only knows where Harper had managed to get his hands on such relatively large amounts of alcohol. Despite the fact that Tyr did not drink himself, he could tell that it was not exactly top of the range drink, but nobody seemed to have any complaints. Especially not Harper himself.

The dinner, however, had been very nice. Mostly because of the fact that Tyr had insisted on 'helping' in the making of it. Nobody on this ship seemed to be able to cook to save their lives. For once, everybody seemed happy. As the evening went on, they grew even happier. And finally there was a moment where Tyr found Milon alone and unobserved and had the chance to pull him to the side.

"We need to talk," Tyr said.

"What's wrong?"

Milon gave him a worried look. Always prepared for the worst. Just like Tyr would have taught him if he had been his responsibility.

"Nothing is wrong. Last time I was interrupted before I had the chance to finish."

"Oh, yeah. I can't stay. I... you know I can't."

"Why is that?"

Tyr felt a bitter disappointment swell inside him, but suppressed it before it could turn into anger and cause even further damage.

"This isn't my world! And there's so much that needs to be straightened out at home... it's just not happening. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologise," Tyr said and shrugged his shoulders, "it is all the same to me."

For a second he wondered why Milon was giving him that almost saddened smile, and then he remembered. Empathy. Damn.

"Here, come over and have a drink with us. You'll feel better..."

Why not? Why struggle so hard to do the healthy thing, the right thing, when everything still turned bad no matter what? Shrugging his shoulders yet again, Tyr followed Milon over to the rest of the crew.

"We're heading soon, yeah?" Tyr heard Pitch asking his friend.

Milon just nodded, a small subtle gesture, like it was a secret message. Then the door opened and Harper came in. Had he left the room? Tyr had not even noticed.

"It's ready," he said.

"Right, cheers for having us then," Pitch said and raised his glass.

"Are you going now? Why not tomorrow?"

The question left Tyr's lips before he had a chance to stop it. Milon looked at him quietly for a few seconds. Reading his feelings, no doubt. And Tyr had no idea how to resist an empathic probing. All he could do was just stand there and let it happen. Then Milon just nodded and handed him a glass.

"No time like the present."
Dylan said something that Tyr missed and then the rest of them said their goodbyes. Whatever. They had not even known Milon. Not seen him sick and dying on the one hand and so full of life it was almost impossible on the other. Not had their lives saved by him. They were not going to miss him. They just said their little speeches, drank up and walked down to the machine shop. And all Tyr could do was empty his glass and follow.

It was deja vu alright. It was almost routine by now. Charging up the channeller, one way or another. This time, thankfully, the other. Milon would not have to put his life at risk just to leave them. At least that was something. As the portal opened, Tyr got a hazy glimpse of that other city. The rainwashed streets, the howling winds, the broken glass and rusty, burning barrels lighting up the places were the streetlight had been long since smashed. His thoughts returned to the time he had been running through those streets, chasing Milon just for fun. He never did anything just for fun.

"Right, see ya then."

Tyr was snapped out of his memories as Pitch was holding out his hand towards him. A gesture of friendship now? What was next?

"No, I do not think you will," Tyr said.

"It's an expression..."

Pitch gave him an amused grin. Tyr just ignored it and shook his hand briefly. This was almost worse. At least before they had been proper enemies. Well, it was all the same now. Then Milon was standing in front of him.

"I hope you do not plan to hug me again..." Tyr said, regretting it even before he had finished the sentence.

Not that he would not feel awkward and more... at a loss if Milon actually did, but it just sounded wrong. It was just not the last thing he wanted to say.

"Alright, I won't."

Milon looked at him with those searching eyes again. A smile flickered across his face. And suddenly Tyr was smiling too. This was stupid. For all the thinking and planning. All the decisions and changing. It would just go back to being like before. It was ridiculous feeling bad about it. Milon would be fine. If there was something Tyr had learnt about him, it was that he could take care of himself. Everything was going to be just fine, he knew it. And so he smiled and said:

"Ah sod it, c'mere."

Milon laughed at him, but made no attempt at avoiding Tyr's rather ham-fisted hug. And there was more laughing in the room, but Tyr didn't feel embarrassed. Laughing was good.

"Hey, less of the crushing..." Milon said.

And Tyr had to let him go.

Milon walked across the room to join Pitch in front of the channeller. As Pitch stepped through without looking back, Milon turned and looked Tyr in the eyes one last time.

"Told you that drink would make you feel better," he said.

"Yeah, I know," Tyr nodded, "I knew you were gonna do it. It's okay."

Then the air thickened and they were gone, leaving Tyr with a taste of exploding oranges in his mouth. Smiling.

End

A/N: Right, that's it. Another crappy ending. I really can't end things. Sorry for leaving it so long as well, inspiration not exactly overflowing at the moment. Well, at least it's done now!