Author's Notes: What can I say; I have no idea where these story ideas come from. Uh, let's see, this is shortish, finished, and all I can say is that I don't really know when or where, but it's interpretive. Basically, you can pick any outcome you want, that's the fun of the things I think up at like 6pm on a Saturday while listening to Nauti's absolutely wonderful band, Jezebel Red (new addiction anyone?) and being generally reflective. Takes place during Season 6.
Summary: Drabble. Being lost, maybe not as physically as emotionally, trapped somewhere that is inescapable and being unable to see where the exits even would be.
Rated: PG
Date Started/Finished: April 7th, 2005
By Delenn
Since she'd been… back… he didn't know what to do. Couldn't decide whether to give her the hell she was convinced she was in, or tell her stories of what real hells were like, and shake her until she believed him.
They were stuck in a place that wasn't quite either. Because there were moments when she came to him, eyes so full of pain, that he would turn the world inside out if it would make her feel better. There were moments when he tried.
There were terrible moments when he realized that nothing would work, that she would never be whole again no matter how hard he tried to hold her pieces together.
Times when he thought that she should never have come to him, never picked him, because he was absolutely the worst person to hold her together. When he thought that was exactly why she chose him. That she wanted them to fall apart together and still say that she'd made an effort.
Nights when they were so close and she was so far away that the pain floored him. Where he knew that he was only there to help her fall further and he was completely willing because it was what she wanted, and he'd give her the world upside down and inside out.
Days, days where he didn't see her and could pretend that she was okay without him. Days where he saw her, happy with her friends, and he was convinced, for just a moment, that she was fine. When she wasn't with him.
Then she'd turn, her eyes would catch him off guard, and he'd know, just know, that she wasn't okay at all.
When she came to him it was always bittersweet. Sweet because she was there, with him. Bitter because he knew what she wanted from him.
He didn't have the heart to tell her that all she had to do was ask. Didn't matter what they thought, what he wanted, what it would do to anybody, but he'd give her what she wanted. Give her an escape from this hell if that was what she needed. Give her the world upside down. Couldn't deny her, couldn't pretend if she asked.
If she asked. He wouldn't give in before then. Wouldn't stop trying before then.
Sometimes, she'd look at him, when he was ready to tear her head off or kiss her or cry, just the worst moment, and she'd look at him. And those eyes, those clear eyes that used to see the world as a good place, spoke of things she'd never tell him, love she'd never admit to, pain that made him weak-kneed…
Locked in her gaze there were worlds to explore, when she let her guard down and just was. Such expression, such knowledge, and he'd know that she was more alive in her eyes than anywhere else. He'd follow those unspoken wonders, trying to unlock the secret to making her whole again, lost.
Lost in her.
And, he'd think that maybe they were both lost in the same place, somewhere between here and hell, this moment and the next, and that maybe they'd never get out, but they'd be lost there together. Thought that maybe, maybe he understood.
Wished he was strong enough to pick a place, a moment. To let her go.
