It surprised Marcus how easily the morning came. He awoke in his own bed, in his own room, with a complete understanding of the events the day before.

There was none of the great stabbing melancholy he had felt yesterday morning; there was the sick feeling he associated with knowing there would be more unknowns to deal with, but the feeling settled when he pulled himself out of bed and sighed in quiet resignation.

Yesterday, he had awoken frantic. Yesterday, he had been afraid he had lost everything he had ever wanted... and he had found even more.

And now that he had tasted completion, he lost his doubts about his future. He had worried, sometimes, that if he caught Susan, after all this time, he would find it wasn't what he wanted at all. But she, somehow... in her bitter, wounded brokenness, in all the crying needful things that tore at her under years of scabbing over... she was the one he wanted.

-Yes, he loved her when she was whole and he was a part of a fairytale, because to see her beautiful and happy was more wonderful than anything he had seen; and yet he found he loved her more fiercely and deeply when she was the person she had been last night, and the strong places in him found the broken parts of her.

It was penance. But oh, what a pleasure to pay for all of his past through her.

He called the lights on and quickly dressed, pocketing his wallet and denn'bok. There were things he needed to do today, things he needed to find out, because yesterday... yesterday...

Yesterday he had realised fully that his own reality was exactly where he wanted to be.

OOO

Marcus maneuvered carefully though the crowded Zocalo market, the different order of the stalls warning him that he was indeed in a different Zocalo than normal. The swarm thinned up ahead, and he squeezed his way through, only to find an even greater congregation awaiting him up ahead, around several of the news screens. He edged closer, trying to catch the words.

"...precaution, so there is no need to panic." That was Zach's voice, Marcus realised. "We apologise in advance for any inconvenience, but again, we ask citizens to make their way in an orderly fashion to Customs. Please do not bring any unnecessary luggage. This message will be repeated every five minutes until further notice. Thank you for your cooperation."

Marcus felt his mouth go dry. He didn't believe for a moment that there was no need for panic, and a quick glance around showed that none of the other listeners believed it either. A buzz had started, and it was growing, and growing, a malevolent sound that fed his unease; it was the sound of hundreds of nervous people and aliens, and more cramming in from all directions.

He turned and caught the sight of Londo Molari's hair, with the connected Londo Molari leaning heavily against the bar and clutching a short glass. Marcus jogged over to him.

"What is going on?" He asked, wondering if he should take the glass from the Ambassador's fingers before he dropped it, or smashed it between his stubby pale fingers.

Molari shook his head, but showed no other response. His eyes, dilated and wide, reflected the push and shove of the tumultuous crowd in front of him. The Ranger could barely hear his harsh whisper.

"They're coming. We're all damned, damned... damned. All this noise-" he raised a hand and in an expressive but utterly dispassionate motion included all the lives in front of him, around him, and in the Station- "all of it. It will soon be silenced, swallowed in the shadows."

Shadows.

Marcus watched him for one growing moment of horror, and then turned and pushed through the mob as quickly as he could.

OOO

Blue Sector was chaos. Hundreds of pilots lined the halls leading to the Cobra bays. Every hall Marcus had passed had seemed the same; full of panicking civilians, Babylon 5 personnel, and the vastly outnumbered security. He clenched his teeth, barely able to hear himself think over all the noise.

Even C & C was packed.

C & C wasn't where the Rangers reported, and a small portion of his mind protested that he wasn't doing his duty, no matter if this was a different Babylon 5. He should have met up with the others and done whatever was required of him. Perhaps he could have piloted a Starfury, and launched out to face the coming darkness.

But Marcus knew he couldn't have gone anywhere else. Looking around, he knew he had made the right choice; on the observation deck he could barely make out Susan, leaning over a console, surrounded by half a dozen others.

"I can't think with all of you here!" she yelled, turning to face the officers around her. "You. And you. And you, and you, and you. Aw, hell- all of you, in that corner, and if I need you you will know."

The officers hesitated, and then collected in the corner before most of them were beckoned somewhere else by another officer. Only Corwin remained next to his Captain, resolutely refusing to leave her side.

Marcus waited until Corwin was momentarily called away, and then he started towards the deck. No one noticed the Ranger amongst the crowd, and no one cared. People called across the room to each other, and hurried from console to console.

Marcus glanced over the controls in front of the window. What he saw did not make him feel any better.

"Marcus?"

He spun around to face Susan, surprised and unnerved by her incredulous tone. He knew he wasn't supposed to be here- well, come on, he really wasn't supposed to be here- but this was different. Susan looked paler than he had seen her in a long time. Her brow was creased- she looked furious and devastatingly sad.

He stepped closer, and she tried to smile. "Goodbye, Marcus." Her eyes softened even more, and she blinked hard, once. "I... was never kind enough to you, was I." She wasn't whispering, but he had to lean closer to hear her; the sounds in the room swallowed everything but shouts.

He felt words try to leap out of his throat and say no, she had always been exactly what he had wanted, but he choked and felt himself sinking somewhere deep inside.

"It's okay." She sighed. "You know, I don't think I understood you until just now. It's life's cruel joke that we aren't that different."

Marcus stood frozen, his mind racing. He saw her close the distance between them; she pressed her lips chastely against his, and then she had stepped away and turned to the window.

"Thank you for coming, to... see me."

He waited.

"Get out of here," she said finally.

Marcus felt himself moving, at last, and he shook his head. "No. I'm going to stay here."

"Of course you are," she said flatly. She turned and looked at the few officers still at the edge of the room where she had sent them, standing too straight and too aware of their own uselessness in this situation. Susan beckoned them over.

"Take Ranger Cole out of here and get him on a transport to the planet. And get on it yourselves."

"Susan-" Marcus called over his shoulder as the officers marched him through the crowded room and towards the door.

Susan stared straight ahead. "Marcus," she said exasperatedly, her gaze fixed on some place far outside of her window, "get the hell out of my coffin."

OOO

The Station was gone.

He had watched it from Epsilon III, the explosion a bright red nova that spread and filled his horizon.

He felt sick, but that was nothing new.

More than a fourth of the population of Babylon 5 were still waiting for transports when the Shadows had come. The Starfuries didn't deter them for long at all.

Captain Susan Ivanova was dead.

Marcus sighed, only now becoming aware of all the tension he was carrying.

She had been a good woman, he found himself thinking, and the thought surprised him; it surprised him that he was not broken by her death. But she...

He hadn't even known her. He would have died by her side, and gladly, because she was still a Susan Ivanova; and yet...

Marcus glanced around. The large cavern, and many of the caverns adjoining it, were packed with people. He looked at them once with sadness before he walked deeper into Epsilon III.

He needed to find Draal. He needed to get home.

OOO

After half an hour, Marcus began to wonder if he had possibly become directionally challenged.

"Draal!" He yelled. His voice echoed down the dark stone corridors. He slid to the ground, feeling tired and empty, and irascible with himself.

The hologram of the keeper of the Great Machine was in front of him in seconds, its light momentarily blinding him.

"You have been looking for me for a while now." Draal said, perhaps slightly amused.

Marcus eyed him wearily. "You knew? Why didn't you come earlier, then?"

The hologram folded its arms. "You hadn't called for me."

Marcus sighed heavily through his nose. "Right. I need your help."

The Minbari nodded. "I know." His critical eyes scanned the Ranger. "You have become unstuck from dimension." He stepped forward until he was right in front of Marcus, his thoughtful eyes looking far away.

"Dimension, eh?" Marcus scratched his chin and scrambled onto his feet. "Not time?"

"No," Draal said emphatically. "No, little one. You are still in Time. You still feel the effects of it. Had you been on the Station, you would have died and ended there, because you most certainly are still in Time."

Marcus instinctively glanced up, to where the Station had been, and his mind jumped to other concerns. "Why didn't the Shadows attack the planet?"

Draal raised his brows. "They would need a force greater than a few ships to consider attacking the Great Machine. They fear it, still- in this Dimension, at least." Draal headed to the right, and lights lined the edges of the floor down the corridor. "Come."

Marcus followed. The hologram slowed to keep his pace, and Draal turned his head to look at him. "I suspect you carried a little of the Babylon Four vortex with you, when you left."

Marcus frowned. "That was months ago."

Draal smiled. "Was it? That depends entirely on your perspective."

Marcus looked up sharply, startled and annoyed by Draal's self-indulgent sense of humour. "Then why- why does Susan continue to show up? She wasn't on Babylon Four with us. Why is she always so important?"

The keeper of the Great Machine smiled even wider, looking down the grey hall in front of him. "That is also a matter of perspective."

OOO

A/N- When in doubt, use Babylon 4? Oh, don't look at me like that. It's only the biggest plothole in the entire series. It gives every single AU situation credibility... even, oh, say, Valen/Zathras? Somewhere.