A little shorter- but i'm getting quicker-

Day 3

0200

If understanding is a three edged sword Delenn thought to herself, then I understand not which edge Marcus was acting from.

She had heard the latest news, and had found herself keeping a vigil with a single candle. She thought of how bright the light Marcus had brought to cause had burned, how it had been seen when all other lights had gone out. But the sadness in his eyes, the pain of loss that flickered just beyond the sporadic and well (also often) spoken front.

If she had done more for him..., she had asked him to come to the re-birth ceremony. But it seemed that the only constant he had come to rely on in his life was grief. She wondered if Marcus had always been this way, impulsive, self blaming, far too willing to sacrifice himself for a cause.

She retired to her private chambers to reflect on recent events. She had meditated in the darkness, thinking of the problems behind her, and the trials ahead. The battle for earth, the problems Sheridan was now facing alone. The stars that ascended as others fell, and some burned out. If the endurance of some stars would be seen a thousand years from now, or would some fade into the background and into obscurity, forever swallowed up by the vastness of the universe.

The flame of the candle raged in front of her, despite seeming in danger of drowning in its own wax. It's light bathed the room in a soft glow, touching and changing everything it met.

Delenn prayed. She prayed for those that history did not remember. Those who died un-noticed in the universe, who died in the dark where their deeds would not be known in glory. For those who went to war and died needlessly. For those who loved without condition; be it a thousand or one person.

Delenn made a covenant with the universe. That is Marcus lived, he would be reborn into new possibilities. That somehow he would be saved from his self-destructive cycle of guilt. She would force it upon him- even if he resented her for it. He must overcome his need to cling to what is unchangeable. She would not pray for him in this manner again, she would not see him do this, to himself or to others again.

To tell the truth, Delenn was angry at herself. She had worried for Marcus, but not suspected this, even when he himself had told her in his own way what would happen if he could find an outlet. How could she of missed it, simply dismissing it as an idle comment in the face of overbearing grief?

She had been addressing the grey council when Lennier had interrupted her with the news. Ivanova was dying. She had left immediately and spoken to the doctors, who gave a message of no hope. After that, Lennier had informed her of the secondary problem; Marcus. Marcus had not spoken to anyone since hearing the news himself. Lennier had attempted, but Marcus had refused to even look at him. As the Entil'zha of the rangers, a refusal to speak to her would be severely disrespectful.



Delenn found Marcus slumped in the corridor outside of Ivanovas room. From his demeanour, his world had avalanched on him, as the bridge of the white star had on Ivanova. Susan was going to die- Delenn had only heard the news a few moments ago herself. This brought great sadness to Delenn, but to Marcus- his heart was broken. It had been him who had carried her from the bridge of the white star, who had waited outside of the operating room for six hours- only to learn that she would die anyway.

She stood over him, his head bowed and back to the wall. His knees a few inches from his forehead. Her appearance didn't register. He seemed almost catatonic. Delenn knelt beside him, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Marcus, are you alright?"

He shook his head slowly, his eyes fixed downward, the moving of his head almost a denial of what was happening. He was sick with grief, angry at the universe and himself.

"I should have seen it coming Delenn." His eyes clouded with tears, and he closed them. "It's my fault."

"No Marcus," She said. "The navigation was down. There was nothing you could have done." Her words meant very little. To Marcus, they were empty and seemed poor and inadequate as comfort at present. They did not cut through the numbness and disbelief.

Marcus raised his head and looked at her. He had been crying for quite sometime by the state of his face. He felt as if he were in some terrible waking dream, where reality had twisted into nightmarish proportions.

"Why is she dying and I'm unscathed?"

Delenn had no good answer for that. What answer could she give that would bring any meaning?

"It is how things are," She whispered, wishing for something of consequence to spring from her mind. "I don't know."

He lowered his head into his hands again, and wept quietly. There was no comfort in the universe, no absolution for being alive. Desperation and self-loathing were upon him.

"I wish I was dead."

Delenn placed her arm around his shoulders as he cried, feeling the enormous sense of grief and loss overpowering Marcus. She sighed and shook her head, trying to help him see beyond the latest tragedy to befall him. "Don't say such things. I know the pain you are in..."

He shook his head, crying even more. Only Stephen knew, or maybe Susan herself, only they really knew how he felt. He could never tell Susan now. He could never look her in the face and speak his mind. There were so many times he could of spoken of his feeling to her, all of them passed up, or handled indirectly. He couldn't tell her now she was dying. He could never tell her, and for that reason, he had to tell Delenn. He tried to put it into comprehendible words.

"I- I have feelings for her."

Delenn paused, taking a moment to interpret what he was saying. This was not only Ivanovas death, it was perhaps the final chance the universe had given him to find happiness, and in his mind- redemption. He no longer was able to live for himself, and perhaps not even for the Anla'shok. He had stood beside Ivanova in every battle. He lived only for her. "Oh Marcus," she breathed realising his implication. "I am so sorry."



0800

Stephen stepped through the door of the iso lab with two cups of coffee in hand. Susan was slumped backwards in the chair beside Marcus. She was asleep, finally. For that much Stephen was glad. She was putting herself through hell just to stay beside Marcus. Because she felt obligated to him. Marcus wouldn't have asked it of her- but she hadn't asked him to give up his life for her.

It was always strange when he was treating a friend, even worse when their condition was as serious as this. Franklin had quite literally had to stitch Marcus back together, which was about as advanced in terms of medicine as amputating a broken leg. At least this way he could take as long healing as his body felt necessary, if his body was at all interested in recovering. He noticed Marcus was breathing a lot more easily, in-fact it looked like he was breathing almost independently. He placed down the two cups of coffee and reached for the scanner.

He smiled at the readout and whispered in Marcus general direction. "Way to go." Stephen tapped Ivanova on the shoulder gently, but with a little urgency in his voice. "Susan."

"Um." She groaned, opening her eyes at what she knew would be some ungodly hour. "What?" She demanded sleepily before realising where she was and sitting up. "Whow, how's he doing?"

Stephen smiled, exhausted but given a slight kick to his adrenals in the last few moments. "He's breathing on his own."

She looked skyward and sighed with relief. "Thank God." She whispered. Ivanova lent forward and put her head in her hands, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her fingertips. With all the emotional instability she was going through lately, wearing mascara seemed to be a bad idea.

"You look like hell." Stephen noted out loud, passing her a cup of freshly re-hydrated coffee.

"Something to do with feeling like hell." Susan remarked, taking the coffee from him with a degree of gratefulness. "You don't look so great yourself." She retorted after a few moments. She sipped the coffee. It was terrible, it had all the charm of a drunken Pak'ma'ra, probably the taste of one as well- but that was something to do with eating carrion. Eventually, her spoken mind wondered back to Marcus. "Was there anyway we could have known?" She paused and explained further, "That he would of done something like this?"

After pausing for a moment, Stephen shook his head. "I've thought the same thing. I don't think so."

"How am I supposed to feel about this? Flattered? Horrified? Grateful? Angry?" She listed, looking for an appropriate adjective.

"I don't know." Stephen began, contemplating what had gone on in Marcus somewhat strange brain. "I've no idea what he was thinking- he probably didn't know what he was thinking."

"Do you think he couldn't live without me?" She asked objectively, deciding if that was a reasonable assumption or not. "Or am I flattering myself?"

"I don't know." He considered. Susan was defiantly a priority in Marcus' mind. "He thought about you a lot."

She considered this for a moment, that was pretty personal. Did Marcus just broadcast what he was thinking to the entire room most of the time? Knowing her luck, half the station probably knew how he felt about her. "He told you?" She asked eyeballing Stephen.

"Well, kinda." Franklin replied, trying to make this as tactful as possible, and trying not to get Marcus into any further trouble. "He thought of you a lot, and he thought a lot of you. When we went to Mars... the best way to get him to shut up was to mention you."

She laughed, thinking of the ultimate irony in Marcus shutting up. "Is it me, or does he always talk?" Susan asked, finding the acoustics of the room empty.

"Always." Franklin confirmed.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," She continued, hoping that someday she'd live to regret next words. "- but I'd love for him to talk right now."