----------------------------------------------------------------------------
--------------------------------
Franklin was met at customs by one of the med-techs. He bypassed the formality of the guards and headed straight for med-lab.
"How's she doing?"
"Out of critical," The tech began to explain hurriedly. "The treatment seems to have worked."
Stephen barely dared to ask the next question, fearing greatly that he wouldn't like the answer. Marcus was dead, there was no hope.
"What about Marcus?"
"We found him in extreme respiratory distress with an irregular rhythm. He was really weak."
Franklin paused in mid step, then turned to the tech He blinked, then began to speak more slowly.
"Wait a minute. He was alive?" "He's on Respiratory support in the Iso –lab now."
Stephen let out a huge sigh of relief. The machine hadn't killed him.
"I don't know if he'll stay with us. The machine seems to have caused cellular breakdown." The tech continued as they started walking again, the urgency of the situation coming back. "He's stabilised for the moment."
He was alive. And Stephen was determined that he'd stay that way. His pace picked up to a slow jog. "And Commander Ivanova, is she stable?"
The tech followed him at pace into the transport tube. "Depends on your definition."
*********** "WHY DON'T YOU JUST TELL ME WHATS GOING ON?" Ivanova was screaming at the tech stood in her way. She had tried asking, ordering, and yelling abuse to let her past. But the tech was unmovable. They probably didn't want her to see Marcus body in-case she lost it again.
"Commander, please calm down."
Before the tech could even finish his sentence Susan was yelling again.
"CALM DOWN! WITH WHAT I'VE JUST SEEN! WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?"
She went to try and get past the tech again but he grabbed her by the arm. Ivanova despite her shaken state tried to surge past but the tech pulled her back again.
Fortunately before there was a true physical altercation, Franklin entered and grabbed her by the other arm. "Whow! It's o.k. Susan, calm down." He spoke, pulling her to face him. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the Alien healing device, which lay smashed, with perhaps intension or accident on the med-lab floor.
"NOT UNTIL SOMEONE TELLS ME WHAT THE HELL'S HAPPENING!" She screamed in his face, her relief on seeing him soon causing her rage to dissipate to quiet anxiety.
Stephen looked her in the eye. She was frantic for answers. "I don't know." He said softly, loosing his grip on her arm. "Just sit tight, and let me find out."
Stephen went to step forward but Susan grabbed him by the arm again.
"They wont let me past." She murmured, almost unable to bring herself to ask the next question.
"Is Marcus dead?"
"No," Stephen shook his head and patted her arm. "He's not."
Reluctantly, Ivanova sat down as Franklin walked away in the direction of the Iso-lab with the med tech he had entered with.
When he was sure he was out of ear shot, Stephen turned to the tech. "I don't understand." He began, glancing back at Ivanova for a moment. "Her neck was broken and her internal organs were screwed, now she's kicking and screaming and Marcus is still alive. How?"
The Tech sighed, not particularly wishing to explain the next part of the puzzle to Dr Franklin.
"There was another donor." She gestured for Franklin to follow her to the small side room off the side of the Iso lab. Inside a body lay under a sheet.
"Another donor?" He began as the tech threw back the sheet. The face under the sheet completely threw him. "What the-"His speech trailed off looking at the face of the corpse. This made no sense.
"According to CNC there was an temporal occurrence in Sector 14 five hours ago." The tech offered as an explanation. That seemed to be as much as anyone would ever be able to explain. Stephen gazed at the body, wondering who she had become, and how extreme her motives were.
"Does Ivanova know?" He finally asked, throwing the sheet back over, as if to somehow erase his memory of having seen it.
"No." the tech simply replied, turning around to grab something from the shelving behind her.
"Good." Franklin nodded folding his arms and glancing back in Ivanovas direction. "I think she's shaken enough."
The tech held out a piece of paper to Franklin. It was aged and screwed up, through many years of being handled, carelessly dropped in rage and snatched up again in reconsideration. "We found this in her pocket."
He studied it for a moment, recognising the handwriting. "A note from Marcus to her."
The tech then held forward another piece of paper, folded into quarters neatly. Franklin took it and unfolded it.
"We found this in his pocket. Apart from the message on the back and the age of the paper they're identical."
Stephens eyes darted between the papers for a few moment, not simply studying the identical lettering, but glancing curiously at the actual message.
'Beautiful Earth, forgive me
For pointlessly treading you,
Beautiful Sun, you wasted,
Your rays on an empty house.
Life! What a price to pay
For being born. Now let me go up:
To the peaks, to the highest tips,
To see the sunrise, to tire my eyes
Gazing out at the promised land.
Then let a snowdrift cover me,
Let them write, 'No one. R.I.P.'
And after that, who gives a damn?
Ibsen- Peer Gynt'
He turned over the older paper to find a second message, this in Ivanovas' handwriting.
'I do.
"In my faith, in my hope, in my love."'
Finally he handed them back to the tech, his eyes wide with extreme revelation. "I think we should hold out on telling her for a while."
"We thought as much." She commented replacing the paper on the shelf behind her. "The commander regained consciousness when we where shocking Cole," The tech began to explain, as they moved from the side room to the Iso-lab. "She was so hysterical we had to sedate her. She slept for the next six hours."
Stephen barely heard the tech when he saw Marcus. He was so pale his skin was almost grey, the colour from his cheeks and lips had almost faded from his face, which was shockingly juxtaposed with his raven hair. He seemed thinner, emaciated, laid waste by the machine.
"What are his chances?" He asked as the tech handed him a chart gravely.
"A lot of internal organ failure, very little neural activity." She began. "But his respiratory system seems to have picked up. He's breathing on his own now."
"Good." He mumbled reading the chart. He glanced up at the tech who was awaiting instructions. "I'll take it from here." He said as he put the chart down before adding on a little praise. "Good job."
"Thank you doctor," She nodded and left Franklin standing over the comatose patient.
He hesitated for a moment, looking down at Marcus. Nothing more could be done for him at this stage, Stephen concluded that he'd probably do more good with Ivanova than Marcus right now.
He tried to smile as he approached her, but the haunted look she wore had an incredible power to dis-arm. Stephen sat on the bed beside her, and touched her on the arm. "How do you feel?"
Ivanova sighed and leaned forward, considering her answer." I'm Okay I guess. I just wasn't expecting to wake up." She paused for a moment, kneading her fingers together, contemplating the events of the past few hours, going from being nearly dead herself, to waking up finding Marcus fighting to stay alive. The shock factor hadn't quite worn off yet.
"I'd looked my own death in the face and I was ready," She began, her speech trailing off as she tried to find a way to string her words together. "I accepted it." She could feel the tears coming again, as much as she didn't want to. She glanced over in the direction of the iso-lab, "But I guess he didn't." For a moment she gave in, and let herself cry silently, while Franklins arm slipped around her shoulders. She sighed dryly and composed herself. "How'd he find out about that machine?"
"Hacked his way into the system." Stephen murmered in reply. "Those log entries were double encoded, clever son-of-a-bitch."
Susan, smiled slightly and sighed a small laugh. "He got caught doing that a few months ago, I said if he did it again I'd file charges." She inhaled deeply, her moving fingers settled almost into a position of prayer. She turned her head and looked Stephen in the eye. "Will he die?"
"It's too early to say." He began. "The machine seems to have taken energy right at the cellular level. He has slight internal bleeding which I'm reluctant to do anything about because if operate I don't know that he'll heal. He has poor function in his liver, kidneys, and little neural activity." It all seemed so cold, so scientific. A person fighting for their life shouldn't be defined by a list of ailments. "He could go either way." Franklin concluded.
"God..." Ivanova trailed off with little else in the way of words coming to her.
"I'm sorry Susan." Stephen apologised, rethinking that it was perhaps a little pre-mature.
They sat in silence for a moment, hearing only the sound of monitors beeping in the iso-lab.
"What made him do it?" She finally said, contemplating just what Marcus had done for her. "How can you just-"She stammered attempting to comprehend, "- just override instinct like that?"
Franklin knew the answer, but he was unsure of his place in saying the reasoning behind Marcus actions. "Well, it's erm..." He tried to find the best possible way of putting it to her. "...look. Marcus has" He trailed off again, "... you must know-"
"What?" She asked interrupting his unclear speech. "That he's in love with me."
"Yeah," He replied, relieved that he didn't have to tell her. "That."
"Yeah. I knew it." She confirmed sadly. "I just didn't wanna admit it." The reality of the situation was still sinking in, but none the less was extremely distressing. "Oh God, I never thought he'd do anything like this."
Only now could she begin to appreciate the things he had done for her, when it was in all probability much too late to return the favour. "It's not like he asked for much," She began to cry again. "He just- just wanted to be around me. Even when I was dying he sat next to me, and held my hand." Susan turned to Stephen again, angrily confessing her guilt in a fit of remorse. "D'you know that's the only time I ever even touched him? The only time he ever got near me?"
Franklin tried to think of something comforting to say, something to make sense of the chaos. But words failed him, he decided that it was probably best to let her vent her feelings.
"I never let him get close," Ivanova continued, more to herself than Stephen. "I was afraid to let him get close!" She was incredulous and her own stupidity and lack of feeling toward Marcus. She tried to justify herself. " I've been through so many bad relationships I didn't want anybody close, even though I knew he wouldn't- couldn't hurt me, or leave me." Susan paused and gazed floor ward, her chin resting hard on her clenched fist.
She spoke more slowly, thoughtfully. "I kept him at arms length and he still loved me- he gave that of himself, so freely and willingly." She turned to Stephen again, her voice tired and regretful. "And I couldn't find it in myself to give him anything, to even acknowledge how he felt. All I ever did was- yell at him and antagonise him."
Franklin tapped the side of the bed, formulating an answer for her. " Maybe that's part of what he likes about you," he smiled somehow gaining a brief smirk from her. "And people don't give of themselves because they expect to gain something from others -at least they shouldn't," He gestured in the direction of the iso-lab. "And certainly didn't in his case."
Susan thought for a moment in silence, she wondered when Stephen had suddenly become a wizened being. As for Marcus, he gave of himself every day of his life, to the rangers, to the people in down-below, to her. Maybe it was time to begin returning those favours.
"I'd like to see him."
Stephen thought for a moment then nodded his head. Perhaps this would somehow be good therapy for her. He led her wordlessly to the isolab.
For a moment the sight of Marcus was a shock, expressed only through a sharp inhalation on Susan's part. In truth her heart leapt into her throat and was suppressed by being swallowed back down. She picked up his left hand, the circulation was poor, his fingertips icy. "Will he wake up?" She asked, her hand curving around his.
"Not at the moment, no."
"Good," She gripped his hand tightly, angry at his contempt for his own life. "Because right now I only have obscene words for him."
She sat down on a gap on the bed beside him Marcus, willing silently in his direction. Stephen stood a pace behind her, now finding himself redundant and awkward. Eventually he decided to excuse himself, "I'll be back."
"Stephen," Ivanova called as he went to go through the door. He paused and turned, she looked to him. "What you said, about giving of yourself, certainly in applying those principles to love." She glanced back at Marcus, possibly dying quietly, a person unknown to the universe. "All love is unrequited Stephen. All of it."
*****************
Susan had taken to pacing about six hours ago. She began to understand how expectant fathers must feel waiting for news. She was exhausted and physically and mentally, but couldn't bring herself to leave his side. No matter what happened she wanted to be here, if he woke up - to yell at him for being such a foolish bastard, and if he died – just to be sure he didn't die alone. Whether she liked it or not, Ivanova owed Marcus her life.
She hadn't left med-lab to eat, shower or sleep. She'd only changed back into her clothes after someone brought them to her. Med-lab was beginning to drive her nuts.
She paced up, then down, then up again. Patience was not one of her strongest points. But Marcus did nothing but lie there, he just lay there and breathed. Not breathing with voice, where sighs could be heard. Breathing with only the moving of air.
Up, 1 step, 2 step, 3 step. Down, 1 step, 2 step, 3 step. Inhale, 1 step, exhale, 2 step, Inhale, 3 step...
She froze realising the tempo she had been counting to. She looked at Marcus again, shockingly pale, devoid of almost all signs of life. Susan walked back across the iso-lab and sat down hard beside him, banging her left elbow on the arm of the chair. She felt the pins and needles run up her arm as she put her right hand to her elbow. She was so angry and frustrated at this she was trying to pass through objects. God she was determined to give Marcus a piece of her mind now the shock of the past twelve hours was almost passed.
After a moment, Ivanova leaned forward towards Marcus, her mouth inches from his ear. She was about to unleash some of the anger of the situation in his direction when she stopped, reconsidered she was most likely wasting her breath and whispered to him harshly.
"Wake up you stupid son-of-a-bitch."
He didn't respond. He was dead to the world for want of a better phrase. Susan sighed and leaned back. She couldn't take this. How the hell was she supposed to handle not knowing, just waiting for something good or bad to happen? She rose, kicked the chair backwards, marched over to the wall, lent against it and screamed.
"I know," Stephen murmured standing at the door of the iso-lab. "The waiting's the worst."
Ivanova put her hands to her temples and braced her head between them. "I can't stand this." She whispered loudly.
"Look," Stephen began as he approached her. "You're tired, hungry and not in your best frame of mind given recent events. Go home, get some sleep. The minute anything happens I'll call you."
Susan looked back over at Marcus, she didn't want to abandon him because med-lab was getting to her. He'd endured worse for her.
"Susan," I hate to say it, but there's nothing more you can do here."
She sighed, hating that he was right. Stephen was always right. But she couldn't go. She couldn't pull herself away this second.
"No," she shook her head. "I can't go."
Stephen raised his eyebrows as if to say 'suit yourself', then returned to his office where he kept an eye on the two of them from a safe distance.
Ivanova picked up the chair she had kicked over and sat down again. She leaned back in the chair and thought particularly hard in Marcus' direction.
*I hate you.* She thought, grinding her teeth together in annoyance. * I hate you for doing this to yourself.*
The chair she was sitting on was much too hard to be comfortable on in anyway she sat. She couldn't think why, when the station had gone online it wasn't supplied with comfortable furniture? The chair backs were either too high, or too low or not wide enough. And another thing, whenever anyone walked into one of these chairs they always made a terrific clang so everybody knew they had done so-
She stopped mid-rant in realisation. She was raving to herself about chairs. Oh dear, it had come to this. Susan glared at her chair, then went back to glaring at Marcus. Him and this chair had quite a lot in common. They were both uncomfortable, annoying, loud, used everyday and taken for granted..., if Marcus had been a piece of furniture he would have been this chair.
Was she really this tired? Was she so far gone she was using chairs as a simile/metaphor regarding Marcus? Marcus was nothing like this chair. For one thing he had more hair...
Stephen was right. She really had to get some sleep. Susan rose from the seat she had been mentally rambling about, then paused. She looked back at Marcus, loosing her resentment gradually as she watched him sleep. In a strange way he looked quite cute, probably something to do with him being quiet for once in his life. It was probably the only time he was quiet. "I don't usually speak unless I have something to say." She should have guessed that'd be most of the time. One thing did irritate her though. His nose- his nostrils were huge. She was raving again- she had to sleep before she lost it completely. *A nose is a nose is a nose. * That was so terrible Marcus should have said it.
"I'll be back," She murmured on deaf ears, deciding to get out of there before her wit was reduced to ferrets, buckets and endless games of I spy.
Franklin was met at customs by one of the med-techs. He bypassed the formality of the guards and headed straight for med-lab.
"How's she doing?"
"Out of critical," The tech began to explain hurriedly. "The treatment seems to have worked."
Stephen barely dared to ask the next question, fearing greatly that he wouldn't like the answer. Marcus was dead, there was no hope.
"What about Marcus?"
"We found him in extreme respiratory distress with an irregular rhythm. He was really weak."
Franklin paused in mid step, then turned to the tech He blinked, then began to speak more slowly.
"Wait a minute. He was alive?" "He's on Respiratory support in the Iso –lab now."
Stephen let out a huge sigh of relief. The machine hadn't killed him.
"I don't know if he'll stay with us. The machine seems to have caused cellular breakdown." The tech continued as they started walking again, the urgency of the situation coming back. "He's stabilised for the moment."
He was alive. And Stephen was determined that he'd stay that way. His pace picked up to a slow jog. "And Commander Ivanova, is she stable?"
The tech followed him at pace into the transport tube. "Depends on your definition."
*********** "WHY DON'T YOU JUST TELL ME WHATS GOING ON?" Ivanova was screaming at the tech stood in her way. She had tried asking, ordering, and yelling abuse to let her past. But the tech was unmovable. They probably didn't want her to see Marcus body in-case she lost it again.
"Commander, please calm down."
Before the tech could even finish his sentence Susan was yelling again.
"CALM DOWN! WITH WHAT I'VE JUST SEEN! WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?"
She went to try and get past the tech again but he grabbed her by the arm. Ivanova despite her shaken state tried to surge past but the tech pulled her back again.
Fortunately before there was a true physical altercation, Franklin entered and grabbed her by the other arm. "Whow! It's o.k. Susan, calm down." He spoke, pulling her to face him. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of the Alien healing device, which lay smashed, with perhaps intension or accident on the med-lab floor.
"NOT UNTIL SOMEONE TELLS ME WHAT THE HELL'S HAPPENING!" She screamed in his face, her relief on seeing him soon causing her rage to dissipate to quiet anxiety.
Stephen looked her in the eye. She was frantic for answers. "I don't know." He said softly, loosing his grip on her arm. "Just sit tight, and let me find out."
Stephen went to step forward but Susan grabbed him by the arm again.
"They wont let me past." She murmured, almost unable to bring herself to ask the next question.
"Is Marcus dead?"
"No," Stephen shook his head and patted her arm. "He's not."
Reluctantly, Ivanova sat down as Franklin walked away in the direction of the Iso-lab with the med tech he had entered with.
When he was sure he was out of ear shot, Stephen turned to the tech. "I don't understand." He began, glancing back at Ivanova for a moment. "Her neck was broken and her internal organs were screwed, now she's kicking and screaming and Marcus is still alive. How?"
The Tech sighed, not particularly wishing to explain the next part of the puzzle to Dr Franklin.
"There was another donor." She gestured for Franklin to follow her to the small side room off the side of the Iso lab. Inside a body lay under a sheet.
"Another donor?" He began as the tech threw back the sheet. The face under the sheet completely threw him. "What the-"His speech trailed off looking at the face of the corpse. This made no sense.
"According to CNC there was an temporal occurrence in Sector 14 five hours ago." The tech offered as an explanation. That seemed to be as much as anyone would ever be able to explain. Stephen gazed at the body, wondering who she had become, and how extreme her motives were.
"Does Ivanova know?" He finally asked, throwing the sheet back over, as if to somehow erase his memory of having seen it.
"No." the tech simply replied, turning around to grab something from the shelving behind her.
"Good." Franklin nodded folding his arms and glancing back in Ivanovas direction. "I think she's shaken enough."
The tech held out a piece of paper to Franklin. It was aged and screwed up, through many years of being handled, carelessly dropped in rage and snatched up again in reconsideration. "We found this in her pocket."
He studied it for a moment, recognising the handwriting. "A note from Marcus to her."
The tech then held forward another piece of paper, folded into quarters neatly. Franklin took it and unfolded it.
"We found this in his pocket. Apart from the message on the back and the age of the paper they're identical."
Stephens eyes darted between the papers for a few moment, not simply studying the identical lettering, but glancing curiously at the actual message.
'Beautiful Earth, forgive me
For pointlessly treading you,
Beautiful Sun, you wasted,
Your rays on an empty house.
Life! What a price to pay
For being born. Now let me go up:
To the peaks, to the highest tips,
To see the sunrise, to tire my eyes
Gazing out at the promised land.
Then let a snowdrift cover me,
Let them write, 'No one. R.I.P.'
And after that, who gives a damn?
Ibsen- Peer Gynt'
He turned over the older paper to find a second message, this in Ivanovas' handwriting.
'I do.
"In my faith, in my hope, in my love."'
Finally he handed them back to the tech, his eyes wide with extreme revelation. "I think we should hold out on telling her for a while."
"We thought as much." She commented replacing the paper on the shelf behind her. "The commander regained consciousness when we where shocking Cole," The tech began to explain, as they moved from the side room to the Iso-lab. "She was so hysterical we had to sedate her. She slept for the next six hours."
Stephen barely heard the tech when he saw Marcus. He was so pale his skin was almost grey, the colour from his cheeks and lips had almost faded from his face, which was shockingly juxtaposed with his raven hair. He seemed thinner, emaciated, laid waste by the machine.
"What are his chances?" He asked as the tech handed him a chart gravely.
"A lot of internal organ failure, very little neural activity." She began. "But his respiratory system seems to have picked up. He's breathing on his own now."
"Good." He mumbled reading the chart. He glanced up at the tech who was awaiting instructions. "I'll take it from here." He said as he put the chart down before adding on a little praise. "Good job."
"Thank you doctor," She nodded and left Franklin standing over the comatose patient.
He hesitated for a moment, looking down at Marcus. Nothing more could be done for him at this stage, Stephen concluded that he'd probably do more good with Ivanova than Marcus right now.
He tried to smile as he approached her, but the haunted look she wore had an incredible power to dis-arm. Stephen sat on the bed beside her, and touched her on the arm. "How do you feel?"
Ivanova sighed and leaned forward, considering her answer." I'm Okay I guess. I just wasn't expecting to wake up." She paused for a moment, kneading her fingers together, contemplating the events of the past few hours, going from being nearly dead herself, to waking up finding Marcus fighting to stay alive. The shock factor hadn't quite worn off yet.
"I'd looked my own death in the face and I was ready," She began, her speech trailing off as she tried to find a way to string her words together. "I accepted it." She could feel the tears coming again, as much as she didn't want to. She glanced over in the direction of the iso-lab, "But I guess he didn't." For a moment she gave in, and let herself cry silently, while Franklins arm slipped around her shoulders. She sighed dryly and composed herself. "How'd he find out about that machine?"
"Hacked his way into the system." Stephen murmered in reply. "Those log entries were double encoded, clever son-of-a-bitch."
Susan, smiled slightly and sighed a small laugh. "He got caught doing that a few months ago, I said if he did it again I'd file charges." She inhaled deeply, her moving fingers settled almost into a position of prayer. She turned her head and looked Stephen in the eye. "Will he die?"
"It's too early to say." He began. "The machine seems to have taken energy right at the cellular level. He has slight internal bleeding which I'm reluctant to do anything about because if operate I don't know that he'll heal. He has poor function in his liver, kidneys, and little neural activity." It all seemed so cold, so scientific. A person fighting for their life shouldn't be defined by a list of ailments. "He could go either way." Franklin concluded.
"God..." Ivanova trailed off with little else in the way of words coming to her.
"I'm sorry Susan." Stephen apologised, rethinking that it was perhaps a little pre-mature.
They sat in silence for a moment, hearing only the sound of monitors beeping in the iso-lab.
"What made him do it?" She finally said, contemplating just what Marcus had done for her. "How can you just-"She stammered attempting to comprehend, "- just override instinct like that?"
Franklin knew the answer, but he was unsure of his place in saying the reasoning behind Marcus actions. "Well, it's erm..." He tried to find the best possible way of putting it to her. "...look. Marcus has" He trailed off again, "... you must know-"
"What?" She asked interrupting his unclear speech. "That he's in love with me."
"Yeah," He replied, relieved that he didn't have to tell her. "That."
"Yeah. I knew it." She confirmed sadly. "I just didn't wanna admit it." The reality of the situation was still sinking in, but none the less was extremely distressing. "Oh God, I never thought he'd do anything like this."
Only now could she begin to appreciate the things he had done for her, when it was in all probability much too late to return the favour. "It's not like he asked for much," She began to cry again. "He just- just wanted to be around me. Even when I was dying he sat next to me, and held my hand." Susan turned to Stephen again, angrily confessing her guilt in a fit of remorse. "D'you know that's the only time I ever even touched him? The only time he ever got near me?"
Franklin tried to think of something comforting to say, something to make sense of the chaos. But words failed him, he decided that it was probably best to let her vent her feelings.
"I never let him get close," Ivanova continued, more to herself than Stephen. "I was afraid to let him get close!" She was incredulous and her own stupidity and lack of feeling toward Marcus. She tried to justify herself. " I've been through so many bad relationships I didn't want anybody close, even though I knew he wouldn't- couldn't hurt me, or leave me." Susan paused and gazed floor ward, her chin resting hard on her clenched fist.
She spoke more slowly, thoughtfully. "I kept him at arms length and he still loved me- he gave that of himself, so freely and willingly." She turned to Stephen again, her voice tired and regretful. "And I couldn't find it in myself to give him anything, to even acknowledge how he felt. All I ever did was- yell at him and antagonise him."
Franklin tapped the side of the bed, formulating an answer for her. " Maybe that's part of what he likes about you," he smiled somehow gaining a brief smirk from her. "And people don't give of themselves because they expect to gain something from others -at least they shouldn't," He gestured in the direction of the iso-lab. "And certainly didn't in his case."
Susan thought for a moment in silence, she wondered when Stephen had suddenly become a wizened being. As for Marcus, he gave of himself every day of his life, to the rangers, to the people in down-below, to her. Maybe it was time to begin returning those favours.
"I'd like to see him."
Stephen thought for a moment then nodded his head. Perhaps this would somehow be good therapy for her. He led her wordlessly to the isolab.
For a moment the sight of Marcus was a shock, expressed only through a sharp inhalation on Susan's part. In truth her heart leapt into her throat and was suppressed by being swallowed back down. She picked up his left hand, the circulation was poor, his fingertips icy. "Will he wake up?" She asked, her hand curving around his.
"Not at the moment, no."
"Good," She gripped his hand tightly, angry at his contempt for his own life. "Because right now I only have obscene words for him."
She sat down on a gap on the bed beside him Marcus, willing silently in his direction. Stephen stood a pace behind her, now finding himself redundant and awkward. Eventually he decided to excuse himself, "I'll be back."
"Stephen," Ivanova called as he went to go through the door. He paused and turned, she looked to him. "What you said, about giving of yourself, certainly in applying those principles to love." She glanced back at Marcus, possibly dying quietly, a person unknown to the universe. "All love is unrequited Stephen. All of it."
*****************
Susan had taken to pacing about six hours ago. She began to understand how expectant fathers must feel waiting for news. She was exhausted and physically and mentally, but couldn't bring herself to leave his side. No matter what happened she wanted to be here, if he woke up - to yell at him for being such a foolish bastard, and if he died – just to be sure he didn't die alone. Whether she liked it or not, Ivanova owed Marcus her life.
She hadn't left med-lab to eat, shower or sleep. She'd only changed back into her clothes after someone brought them to her. Med-lab was beginning to drive her nuts.
She paced up, then down, then up again. Patience was not one of her strongest points. But Marcus did nothing but lie there, he just lay there and breathed. Not breathing with voice, where sighs could be heard. Breathing with only the moving of air.
Up, 1 step, 2 step, 3 step. Down, 1 step, 2 step, 3 step. Inhale, 1 step, exhale, 2 step, Inhale, 3 step...
She froze realising the tempo she had been counting to. She looked at Marcus again, shockingly pale, devoid of almost all signs of life. Susan walked back across the iso-lab and sat down hard beside him, banging her left elbow on the arm of the chair. She felt the pins and needles run up her arm as she put her right hand to her elbow. She was so angry and frustrated at this she was trying to pass through objects. God she was determined to give Marcus a piece of her mind now the shock of the past twelve hours was almost passed.
After a moment, Ivanova leaned forward towards Marcus, her mouth inches from his ear. She was about to unleash some of the anger of the situation in his direction when she stopped, reconsidered she was most likely wasting her breath and whispered to him harshly.
"Wake up you stupid son-of-a-bitch."
He didn't respond. He was dead to the world for want of a better phrase. Susan sighed and leaned back. She couldn't take this. How the hell was she supposed to handle not knowing, just waiting for something good or bad to happen? She rose, kicked the chair backwards, marched over to the wall, lent against it and screamed.
"I know," Stephen murmured standing at the door of the iso-lab. "The waiting's the worst."
Ivanova put her hands to her temples and braced her head between them. "I can't stand this." She whispered loudly.
"Look," Stephen began as he approached her. "You're tired, hungry and not in your best frame of mind given recent events. Go home, get some sleep. The minute anything happens I'll call you."
Susan looked back over at Marcus, she didn't want to abandon him because med-lab was getting to her. He'd endured worse for her.
"Susan," I hate to say it, but there's nothing more you can do here."
She sighed, hating that he was right. Stephen was always right. But she couldn't go. She couldn't pull herself away this second.
"No," she shook her head. "I can't go."
Stephen raised his eyebrows as if to say 'suit yourself', then returned to his office where he kept an eye on the two of them from a safe distance.
Ivanova picked up the chair she had kicked over and sat down again. She leaned back in the chair and thought particularly hard in Marcus' direction.
*I hate you.* She thought, grinding her teeth together in annoyance. * I hate you for doing this to yourself.*
The chair she was sitting on was much too hard to be comfortable on in anyway she sat. She couldn't think why, when the station had gone online it wasn't supplied with comfortable furniture? The chair backs were either too high, or too low or not wide enough. And another thing, whenever anyone walked into one of these chairs they always made a terrific clang so everybody knew they had done so-
She stopped mid-rant in realisation. She was raving to herself about chairs. Oh dear, it had come to this. Susan glared at her chair, then went back to glaring at Marcus. Him and this chair had quite a lot in common. They were both uncomfortable, annoying, loud, used everyday and taken for granted..., if Marcus had been a piece of furniture he would have been this chair.
Was she really this tired? Was she so far gone she was using chairs as a simile/metaphor regarding Marcus? Marcus was nothing like this chair. For one thing he had more hair...
Stephen was right. She really had to get some sleep. Susan rose from the seat she had been mentally rambling about, then paused. She looked back at Marcus, loosing her resentment gradually as she watched him sleep. In a strange way he looked quite cute, probably something to do with him being quiet for once in his life. It was probably the only time he was quiet. "I don't usually speak unless I have something to say." She should have guessed that'd be most of the time. One thing did irritate her though. His nose- his nostrils were huge. She was raving again- she had to sleep before she lost it completely. *A nose is a nose is a nose. * That was so terrible Marcus should have said it.
"I'll be back," She murmured on deaf ears, deciding to get out of there before her wit was reduced to ferrets, buckets and endless games of I spy.