Day 4
It was years into the future, how many she couldn't tell. Her hair was greying in subtle streaks, her face creasing in lines of age.
Outside, the glow of the dawn was visible through the large window that looked out onto the crystal spires that dominated the landscape. As the wind blew through the crystal, Susan heard the distant humming, as if someone were running their finger along a wine glass. This must be Minbar.
Ivanova rolled over on the four poster bed, and found she was laying close to someone, her face inches from theirs. They were also older, their face scarred with age and a thousand hardships.
Marcus rested uneasily beside her. Every breath was a struggle for life, a struggle he was loosing. He was older than she knew him, but not an old man. He was perhaps sixty, his hair was also turning a dirty grey, but he was still rather a lean figure.
"Susan," he breathlessly murmured, somewhat aware of his imminent demise, but fighting death on his own terms- keeping his wit about him.. "You're not- crying again are you?" he turned his head to look at her, and a wry smile spread across his lips. "I'm the one -dying here, don't know what -you're crying about."
She swallowed and choked back her tears, managing to somehow laugh at the same time. She hated it when he was in-appropriately funny, especially now at the end. Weakly, his hand reached across and touched the tear that lay high up on her cheek. Marcus closed his eyes and groaned in pain and discomfort. Ivanova lifted her head from the pillow, pushing her greying hair back behind her ears. She leaned over him, placed her arm under his head, then raised his forehead to her lips.
Susan pressed her forehead to his feeling his gasping breath in her face. "shhh."
There was no comfort other than herself to offer him. He had gone beyond where most painkillers would have been effective, anything that could be offered to him would let him sleep until he was dead. He didn't want it that way- he wanted to be awake until the last moment his eyes would stay open, the only relief would come when he was dead.
He lay in her arms, slipping away from conscious thought. His eyes blinking open and closed very slowly now. Every breath more useless than the last. She thought of all the recent nights, when she'd held him, almost screaming with agony, weeping with pain that could not be silenced. His eyes closed and saw no more. He would not die in battle gloriously, not alone or un- appreciated. He would just sleep in her arms.
His chest rose and fell more slowly now, pulling in little air, her arms were almost numb from holding him. She prayed every breath would be the last.
He exhaled a final time, then simply- stopped. Susan paused, waiting for him to breathe again. He didn't. She put her hand to his chest, and felt the last the very last movement of his heart.
She raised her head, feeling the sunrise falling on her face. Through the tears, somehow she gathered a smile at one of life's little ironies. As a romantic, what better way to die was there than this?
He was gone.
Her warm tears flowed over a face that soon grew cold.
1300
"Damn it!" Susan gasped as she woke to find herself back in the 2260's. The dream was so real, she could feel the texture of Marcus stubble on her fingertips. Damn, not even in the future did he shave. She was shaking and could feel a layer of cold sweat on her back, that dream was far too close to reality for her liking.
Quickly, she became aware of her link going off. Susan pawed around in the darkness, not thinking to turn the lights on. She brutally snatched it up and answered. "Ivanova, go."
"We have captain Sheridan for you on channel four commander," Corwins voice informed her from CNC, unaware of how strange another human voice sounded on her ears. Her head was pounding, aching from temple to temple- it had done since she'd woken up initially.
"Put it through to my quarters, thank you David." She breathed out, trying not to sound too upset over the link. The last thing she wanted was rumours flying around CNC about her. But then CNC was probably already full of rumours...
She rose from the tangle of bedclothes, found her robe lying disguarded on the floor, picked it up and put it around her. She stumbled groggily out of the bedroom, and turned on the monitor to see the waiting face of John Sheridan.
"Susan, Hi." He began, noting her drowsy appearance. She looked terrible, she looked like- for want of a better phrase- death warmed up. She was pale and her hair was dull and unhealthy. Her skin was creased with worry and plagued with small blemishes. She looked like crap. "Sorry to wake you, but I needed to call before we put our proposal forward."
"No, it's alright." She shook her head, trying to shake of the need to sleep. "I was up all of last night."
"How's Marcus?" He asked furrowing his brow slightly.
She sighed, feeling sick with grogginess and shock from her dream. "Not good," Susan stated folding her arms. He expression worsened into one of unease, "We thought we we're gonna loose him yesterday- Stephen ordered me back here to get some sleep."
"Damn," Sheridan stated, hoping for better news. It seemed she was going out of her head with worry over Marcus. Well at least for the moment he had cause to distract her from her worry. "Well for you at least I have some good news."
Ivanova cocked her head and rubbed her neck. "What's that?" She asked, trying too hard to demonstrate a false level of interest.
"I got you your promotion." He smiled warmly. Susan froze for a moment, it took a second before the news quite reached her.
"Promotion? I'm a captain?"
Sheridan laughed slightly, recalling the last promotion he gave her. She had the same beautiful look of disbelief on her face- it was nice to know it was still possible to phase her. "Congratulations Susan, you earned it."
"Wow." She smiled, suddenly feeling much more awake. "Thank you John."
"Ah, you're welcome," He replied dismissing her un-needed thanks with a sweeping hand gesture. "So what are you going to do? If you wanted a ship I could probably swing it for you."
Ivanova thought for a moment, it was tempting. But she was needed here, having a C:O who knew nothing about the runnings of this station wouldn't be helpful with everything that was going on- and she certainly didn't want to go anywhere with Marcus in his current condition.
"Well," she began, "Eventually yeah but- we don't know if or when he'll wake up. It wouldn't be fair if he did and I was gone."
"Alright," Sheridan nodded. With her it was probably a matter of honour to stay around until the situation was resolved. "Take some time," He resumed. "Delenn sends her best wishes."
"I'll see you soon John."
"Bye," He murmured as the screen went blank, hoping only the best for her as he went to bluff with the president of earth.
1805
Med-lab was as she had left it, sterile, metallic. Stephen was nowhere to be seen, Marcus was still in the iso-lab. As she approached she saw he was bandaged tightly around the stomach where he'd been cut open. It was probably a precaution, his metabolism was moving very slowly, as Stephen had put it, he was being held together with sutures and good intentions.
Susan had never noticed how thin he was, that she could see the skin pulled tightly against every rib. Maybe that was something to do with the healing device, taking the weight off his body to use as energy to bring her back. No, she didn't want to go onto this line of thought. Every time her brain went near it she only felt worse about what had happened.
He'd looked strangely like he'd done in her dream, weak, vulnerable, dying. She reached forward and placed her hand over his beating heart, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath her hand. Every beat she felt, she expected to be the last.
But he kept breathing. He didn't stop. It seemed as if his body had one intention- to keep his heart and lungs going and damn the rest. Finally, she moved her hand, satisfied he was going to keep breathing. Her fingers moved away and broke contact with his skin.
She hated this, she wanted to walk away and forget about him. In one selfish moment she wanted to go home and sleep easily, to be able to stop turning over what he could possibly have been thinking. What was worse, even when she slept he was there, dying. Only in her dream it was worse, she had to hold him while he took his time, while he was in pain, she didn't want to have to do that. She hadn't done it for her father; she couldn't do it then, or even now. So why was she able to do it in the future?
Finally, she sat down beside him and picked up his hand, and started to fall back into the routine of the last few days. Everyone else was out acquiring their happily ever afters, while she was stuck in Med-lab with a potential vegetable that she was coming to resent. Well she was Russian, she wouldn't get the happy ending. It was a fact of life she was accustomed to. That's why she was still here and not getting layed, because her sense of honour dictated that she stayed around until he died or woke up. Then if he woke up she'd kill him. Either way, it'd turn out to be a tragedy in the end.
Ivanova looked back to Marcus for a moment. He looked so innocent. Well maybe not that, but she certainly chided herself for her previous line of thought. She was just angry at a lot of things, and was most likely mis- directing it towards him. Susan reached forward and touched his face with her index finger, if he woke up now he'd probably pass right out again. Nothing.
She lifted his hand to her lips. He didn't move. She wished she'd given him a chance, would it have been so terrible? He at least loved her, she could of maybe met him halfway. But no. It was most likely too late. She'd rescind these thoughts if he woke up, but for a moment it was a possibility.
"So much for things working out." She whispered to the breathing corpse, before leaning back in the chair and dozing off.
22.34
She was being shaken awake.
"Susan! Susan wake up!" Stephen was yelling at her urgently. Her eyes opened before her brain was able to get up to speed. She lunged forward and almost fell out of the chair. Fortunately Stephen grabbed her before she fell on her face.
"What??" She yelled, annoyed that she had been asleep so deeply. Had something happened? Stephen was really excited about something. Knowing her luck the Drazi had declared war on the Pak'Ma'Ra.
"Good news!" He yelled shoving a report in her face. She blinked a couple of times, trying to focus her tired eyes on it. "His neural activity's picked up?"
Her eyes moved to meet his, realising what he was implying. ""You mean he'll be okay?"
"Yes! He could wake up anytime."
Ivanova sighed with relief and smiled, then wiped her eyes. "Could you wake him now?"
Franklin looked at her, puzzled, "Well technically, but I wouldn't recommend it. It's best to let him come round on his own."
Susan sat again and put her hands to her temples, feeling her headache getting worse again. "Can I start calling him names now, as he can hear me?"
It was years into the future, how many she couldn't tell. Her hair was greying in subtle streaks, her face creasing in lines of age.
Outside, the glow of the dawn was visible through the large window that looked out onto the crystal spires that dominated the landscape. As the wind blew through the crystal, Susan heard the distant humming, as if someone were running their finger along a wine glass. This must be Minbar.
Ivanova rolled over on the four poster bed, and found she was laying close to someone, her face inches from theirs. They were also older, their face scarred with age and a thousand hardships.
Marcus rested uneasily beside her. Every breath was a struggle for life, a struggle he was loosing. He was older than she knew him, but not an old man. He was perhaps sixty, his hair was also turning a dirty grey, but he was still rather a lean figure.
"Susan," he breathlessly murmured, somewhat aware of his imminent demise, but fighting death on his own terms- keeping his wit about him.. "You're not- crying again are you?" he turned his head to look at her, and a wry smile spread across his lips. "I'm the one -dying here, don't know what -you're crying about."
She swallowed and choked back her tears, managing to somehow laugh at the same time. She hated it when he was in-appropriately funny, especially now at the end. Weakly, his hand reached across and touched the tear that lay high up on her cheek. Marcus closed his eyes and groaned in pain and discomfort. Ivanova lifted her head from the pillow, pushing her greying hair back behind her ears. She leaned over him, placed her arm under his head, then raised his forehead to her lips.
Susan pressed her forehead to his feeling his gasping breath in her face. "shhh."
There was no comfort other than herself to offer him. He had gone beyond where most painkillers would have been effective, anything that could be offered to him would let him sleep until he was dead. He didn't want it that way- he wanted to be awake until the last moment his eyes would stay open, the only relief would come when he was dead.
He lay in her arms, slipping away from conscious thought. His eyes blinking open and closed very slowly now. Every breath more useless than the last. She thought of all the recent nights, when she'd held him, almost screaming with agony, weeping with pain that could not be silenced. His eyes closed and saw no more. He would not die in battle gloriously, not alone or un- appreciated. He would just sleep in her arms.
His chest rose and fell more slowly now, pulling in little air, her arms were almost numb from holding him. She prayed every breath would be the last.
He exhaled a final time, then simply- stopped. Susan paused, waiting for him to breathe again. He didn't. She put her hand to his chest, and felt the last the very last movement of his heart.
She raised her head, feeling the sunrise falling on her face. Through the tears, somehow she gathered a smile at one of life's little ironies. As a romantic, what better way to die was there than this?
He was gone.
Her warm tears flowed over a face that soon grew cold.
1300
"Damn it!" Susan gasped as she woke to find herself back in the 2260's. The dream was so real, she could feel the texture of Marcus stubble on her fingertips. Damn, not even in the future did he shave. She was shaking and could feel a layer of cold sweat on her back, that dream was far too close to reality for her liking.
Quickly, she became aware of her link going off. Susan pawed around in the darkness, not thinking to turn the lights on. She brutally snatched it up and answered. "Ivanova, go."
"We have captain Sheridan for you on channel four commander," Corwins voice informed her from CNC, unaware of how strange another human voice sounded on her ears. Her head was pounding, aching from temple to temple- it had done since she'd woken up initially.
"Put it through to my quarters, thank you David." She breathed out, trying not to sound too upset over the link. The last thing she wanted was rumours flying around CNC about her. But then CNC was probably already full of rumours...
She rose from the tangle of bedclothes, found her robe lying disguarded on the floor, picked it up and put it around her. She stumbled groggily out of the bedroom, and turned on the monitor to see the waiting face of John Sheridan.
"Susan, Hi." He began, noting her drowsy appearance. She looked terrible, she looked like- for want of a better phrase- death warmed up. She was pale and her hair was dull and unhealthy. Her skin was creased with worry and plagued with small blemishes. She looked like crap. "Sorry to wake you, but I needed to call before we put our proposal forward."
"No, it's alright." She shook her head, trying to shake of the need to sleep. "I was up all of last night."
"How's Marcus?" He asked furrowing his brow slightly.
She sighed, feeling sick with grogginess and shock from her dream. "Not good," Susan stated folding her arms. He expression worsened into one of unease, "We thought we we're gonna loose him yesterday- Stephen ordered me back here to get some sleep."
"Damn," Sheridan stated, hoping for better news. It seemed she was going out of her head with worry over Marcus. Well at least for the moment he had cause to distract her from her worry. "Well for you at least I have some good news."
Ivanova cocked her head and rubbed her neck. "What's that?" She asked, trying too hard to demonstrate a false level of interest.
"I got you your promotion." He smiled warmly. Susan froze for a moment, it took a second before the news quite reached her.
"Promotion? I'm a captain?"
Sheridan laughed slightly, recalling the last promotion he gave her. She had the same beautiful look of disbelief on her face- it was nice to know it was still possible to phase her. "Congratulations Susan, you earned it."
"Wow." She smiled, suddenly feeling much more awake. "Thank you John."
"Ah, you're welcome," He replied dismissing her un-needed thanks with a sweeping hand gesture. "So what are you going to do? If you wanted a ship I could probably swing it for you."
Ivanova thought for a moment, it was tempting. But she was needed here, having a C:O who knew nothing about the runnings of this station wouldn't be helpful with everything that was going on- and she certainly didn't want to go anywhere with Marcus in his current condition.
"Well," she began, "Eventually yeah but- we don't know if or when he'll wake up. It wouldn't be fair if he did and I was gone."
"Alright," Sheridan nodded. With her it was probably a matter of honour to stay around until the situation was resolved. "Take some time," He resumed. "Delenn sends her best wishes."
"I'll see you soon John."
"Bye," He murmured as the screen went blank, hoping only the best for her as he went to bluff with the president of earth.
1805
Med-lab was as she had left it, sterile, metallic. Stephen was nowhere to be seen, Marcus was still in the iso-lab. As she approached she saw he was bandaged tightly around the stomach where he'd been cut open. It was probably a precaution, his metabolism was moving very slowly, as Stephen had put it, he was being held together with sutures and good intentions.
Susan had never noticed how thin he was, that she could see the skin pulled tightly against every rib. Maybe that was something to do with the healing device, taking the weight off his body to use as energy to bring her back. No, she didn't want to go onto this line of thought. Every time her brain went near it she only felt worse about what had happened.
He'd looked strangely like he'd done in her dream, weak, vulnerable, dying. She reached forward and placed her hand over his beating heart, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath her hand. Every beat she felt, she expected to be the last.
But he kept breathing. He didn't stop. It seemed as if his body had one intention- to keep his heart and lungs going and damn the rest. Finally, she moved her hand, satisfied he was going to keep breathing. Her fingers moved away and broke contact with his skin.
She hated this, she wanted to walk away and forget about him. In one selfish moment she wanted to go home and sleep easily, to be able to stop turning over what he could possibly have been thinking. What was worse, even when she slept he was there, dying. Only in her dream it was worse, she had to hold him while he took his time, while he was in pain, she didn't want to have to do that. She hadn't done it for her father; she couldn't do it then, or even now. So why was she able to do it in the future?
Finally, she sat down beside him and picked up his hand, and started to fall back into the routine of the last few days. Everyone else was out acquiring their happily ever afters, while she was stuck in Med-lab with a potential vegetable that she was coming to resent. Well she was Russian, she wouldn't get the happy ending. It was a fact of life she was accustomed to. That's why she was still here and not getting layed, because her sense of honour dictated that she stayed around until he died or woke up. Then if he woke up she'd kill him. Either way, it'd turn out to be a tragedy in the end.
Ivanova looked back to Marcus for a moment. He looked so innocent. Well maybe not that, but she certainly chided herself for her previous line of thought. She was just angry at a lot of things, and was most likely mis- directing it towards him. Susan reached forward and touched his face with her index finger, if he woke up now he'd probably pass right out again. Nothing.
She lifted his hand to her lips. He didn't move. She wished she'd given him a chance, would it have been so terrible? He at least loved her, she could of maybe met him halfway. But no. It was most likely too late. She'd rescind these thoughts if he woke up, but for a moment it was a possibility.
"So much for things working out." She whispered to the breathing corpse, before leaning back in the chair and dozing off.
22.34
She was being shaken awake.
"Susan! Susan wake up!" Stephen was yelling at her urgently. Her eyes opened before her brain was able to get up to speed. She lunged forward and almost fell out of the chair. Fortunately Stephen grabbed her before she fell on her face.
"What??" She yelled, annoyed that she had been asleep so deeply. Had something happened? Stephen was really excited about something. Knowing her luck the Drazi had declared war on the Pak'Ma'Ra.
"Good news!" He yelled shoving a report in her face. She blinked a couple of times, trying to focus her tired eyes on it. "His neural activity's picked up?"
Her eyes moved to meet his, realising what he was implying. ""You mean he'll be okay?"
"Yes! He could wake up anytime."
Ivanova sighed with relief and smiled, then wiped her eyes. "Could you wake him now?"
Franklin looked at her, puzzled, "Well technically, but I wouldn't recommend it. It's best to let him come round on his own."
Susan sat again and put her hands to her temples, feeling her headache getting worse again. "Can I start calling him names now, as he can hear me?"