See Prologue for Disclaimer and Author's Notes.

Chapter 6 – Interludes and Examinations

Delenn was curled up on the king-size bed, knees drawn tight to her chest, hair spread over a dark blue pillow case. She was facing away from the door when John stepped inside, turned on the light and closed the door tightly behind him. She flinched as he turned the lock and secured it with a deafening click.

Wordlessly, he walked to the bed and sat down on the edge opposite her. She still did not look at him, and he could tell, though she was covered by a sheet and a thin blanket, that her entire body was tense. She was terrified. Gently, he reached out a hand and rested it on her shoulder.

She jerked away from him, drawing in a sharp breath, and if possible she tensed even more.

John sighed. "Hey," he said gently. Still no word from her. He withdrew his hand. "Thank you. For the warning. I…" He shook his head as she tried to pull further away from him. By now she was almost falling off the other side of the bed. "I'm… not going to do… that," he said slowly. "You must know that, if you've figured out… if you know that I'm…" He sighed. "Look, I… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for what you've gone through. I can't bear to think… how long have you been here?"

"Five years." He barely heard her.

Five years. "Five years? Of…" He couldn't finish the sentence. It was too revolting to consider, much less say aloud.

"It is the means by which I am still alive." She was speaking louder now, but there were tears in her voice. He wanted so badly to comfort her.

"I—" He shook his head, unsure of where to go with his next words. He was not a stranger to victims, but he was a stranger to victim therapy.

Then she was facing him, studying him intently through red, swollen eyes. "What do you want?" she whispered. "Why are you here?"

"I thought you—you said you knew," he whispered back, stretching out on the bed beside her, bringing their faces close together to keep their tones as low as possible. "I'm John Sheridan."

"But are you really a Shadow of the man you used to be? Are you a… a…"

He turned away. He wasn't willing to risk it, not now, not after he was finally all the way inside. "I'm the kind of Shadow that a candle flame makes," he found himself responding. He reached out a hand to move a stray lock of hair from her face, mirroring the gesture he'd seen Morden use – but she didn't pull away. She let him touch her face. "Don't be afraid."

"You indulge quite readily. You drink, you…" She sniffled, shrugged against the mattress. "I assumed you had hardened, that you were not…" now her voice drifted off and he was left in confusion. Not what?

"Not anymore. I swear, no more. I can't, not if my life means anything to me. Not if your life—"

"You have to get me out of here." Now she was begging, crying softly, pleading with him as she grasped his shirt collar. "I know how to stop them, I know what to do, but I—I can't—"

"What do you know? How much do you know?" Now he was interested, very interested. She'd been here a long time, longer than some of the men. He had never considered, once she opened up, how much knowledge she might have. She had been a witness to it all.

"I know… everything."

Suddenly there was a pounding at the door. "It's too quiet in there! I'm coming in if I don't hear some indication of progress, Sheridan. Get on that shit or let a real man do the job."

John stripped down to his boxers and climbed on top of her, giving a feigned moan for Morden's benefit. There was nothing fake about Delenn's yelp that followed as he ground his pelvis against hers. "Sorry," he whispered in her ear. "I'm really sorry." She cried out again. He clapped his hands together near her ear to make a realistic slapping sound – and the loudness of it caused her to cry out yet again. And then, in only his boxers, he pulled back the covers, leaving her exposed, and strode angrily to the door. He jerked it open and narrowed angry eyes at Morden. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed. "You gave her to me tonight. That means I get to do my business my way. I get that you give the orders around here, but you also said you wanted me to be happy. And right now you are making me very much NOT." A pointed look, and he grabbed at his crotch in emphasis. "Maybe," he hissed, "She's quiet because she's busy. Huh?"

Morden studied him long and hard, but Sheridan's expression radiated realistic anger and, beyond that, he was unreadable. "Fine," he said finally, and turned to go back down the hall.

Sheridan closed and locked the door again – and then in a stroke of genius, he took the one chair in the room and wedged it up under the doorknob before returning to his position stretched out beside Delenn. As he did so, he pulled the sheet and blanket back up to cover her. "Listen." His voice was as gentle as he could make it, just a notch above inaudible and, he knew, tinged with emotion. This life, this job, had hardened him so – the irony that he was feeling all that he was in this place didn't escape him, but he let it go. It made him feel more human than he had in a long time. "I can't get you out yet. It'll blow my cover and I can't chance that, not if either of us is going to live to see our next birthday. And I don't have the clout to stop him from…" He averted his eyes and sighed. "But I'll do everything I can to help you."

"She said you'd come," Delenn whispered, and he frowned, not sure if he'd heard her right. "She was right."

"Wh—who said?"

"Anna."

John's eyes went wide. "What do you know about Anna?"

"It's not safe here, John Sheridan. Not safe…"

"What do you know about Anna?" He repeated, his voice rising louder than he intended. He bit his lip as soon as the words were out. Not safe, she'd said, which was essentially what he had just told her.

"She was a liability." Nothing he hadn't gotten out of Morden, but he suspected there was more, something she didn't feel safe telling him; probably something she'd never said aloud.

He studied her face for a long time. Her eyes were full of life, sparkling when she spoke of Anna, shining with knowledge she probably wasn't supposed to have. He found that he did want to touch her, to hold her – but not in the way Morden would have expected. He wanted to hold her for protection, for warmth, for comfort… to remind her what kindness felt like. "I'm tired," he said at last. "And you must be, too. Delenn I... I want you to know that when you're with me you don't have to do anything you don't want to do. When you're with me, we'll just sleep. I suspect you… you don't just sleep as much as you'd like." She responded with an aversion of her eyes, and he nodded in understanding before getting up to turn off the bedroom light. When he returned to the bed, he laid beside her, sure to keep ample space between her body and his.

He was just drifting off to sleep when he felt her move closer, close enough to touch, and curl loosely inside his folded frame. It was a bittersweet moment; John was overjoyed to have her seek his warmth and comfort, to show a glimmer of trust, but he knew she'd continue to walk through fire and pain until he could get her out, and that might be quite some time. She was special, he knew; not just because she knew something about Anna, but because she had been smart enough and strong enough to keep herself alive here in the depths of Hell; because she was beautiful; because, he found, he wanted to know more about her, so much more about her. In spite of everything, he couldn't fight the feeling that he was falling for her.

Two years ago, he couldn't save Anna. Anna had died at the hands of the Vorlons – if Mr. Morden could be believed – in a malicious deal of drugs and sex and things he couldn't bear to consider. But here was a woman who had walked in that same world; here was a chance for his redemption. A silent vow passed through his mind: I will never hurt you. And when this is over, I will make sure no one ever hurts you again. He sealed that promise with a single, gentle kiss to the back of her head before surrendering himself to sleep.

"Investigation continues today into the death of Babylon PD Commander Susan Ivanova, who was shot to death in her home last night. While fingers are being pointed vehemently at the Shadows, there is as of yet no evidence to support this theory, and if there were any witnesses, they have yet to come forward."

Marcus switched off the TV and turned to his companion with raised eyebrows. "You look pretty good for a dead woman."

"When this is all over, Sheridan is going to wish he'd really done it." Susan rubbed absently at the considerable bruising on her chest. "Right now, though… right now he's just lucky he got away with it."

"So far," Marcus agreed, concern radiating from his eyes. He took a look around their accommodations – a dingy safehouse that BPD used for witness protection. "But he's got to know this arrangement won't work forever. Are you any closer to a plan?"

Susan let out a long sigh. "It would be really convenient if we could just let the two gangs take each other out. But if we let things between the Vorlons and the Shadows come to a head in the streets of Babylon, it will be a bloodbath, and in the end, I suspect the city will fall firmly into the Shadows' hands. So… we have to move before that happens. Unfortunately, my trip to the district attorney's office for a warrant yesterday was less than successful. What we don't have is cold, hard evidence of criminal activity that ties directly to that bar. I think we could take down Morden if he'd show his face in the light of day, but the son of a bitch is too smart for that." She looked at Marcus now, and he didn't miss the momentary look of helplessness that flashed across her features.

"So why doesn't Sheridan just pull his badge? He's certainly seen enough to serve as a witness."

"The last drop I got from him said that there are endangered innocents, and he wants them free and clear of danger before the sting." She thought for a long moment on this. "But we can't wait forever." Grabbing a piece of paper, she hastily scribbled out a message for the captain, folded it and gave it to Marcus. "Drop this for him in the newspaper box at the corner of 3rd and Atwood. Bury it about halfway down the stack."

"I know."

She smiled as he took the note from her and kissed the top of her head gently. "Yeah, I guess you do." A pause. Then, "Marcus?"

"Hmm?"

"You miss it, don't you?"

He paused for consideration. "Sometimes," he admitted. "But I don't regret my choices, and neither should you. Besides. If I'd elected to stay in Texas with the Rangers, and not to follow you up here to Babylon, who would you have right now to help you out while you're busy being dead, hmmm?" A smile, followed by a smacking kiss to her cheek. "I'll be back in an hour."

Greetings from beyond the grave. Three Vorlons followed me to Heaven last night, and I don't think they'll be lucky enough for a resurrection. Start closing up the book. You have two weeks.

"Fucking fuck… fuck…" Sheridan held a lighter to the note as he did the math – "last night" she'd said. So this message drop was two days old, which meant he had 12 days to bring this to an end, or…

He paused. Or what? Unless she knew something he didn't about arrangements for the turf war, and that was next to impossible.

It didn't matter, though. If she said he had two weeks, then he had two weeks. The "or what" were the wild cards, the innocents - Delenn and the other girls. In the last two days he'd counted three more female faces who were there and then gone, shadows in their own right, though he had every reason to believe this wasn't their choice.

The good thing about being perceived as a trusted killer was that he had his freedom back and could come and go from Z'ha'dum as he pleased. This left him free to pick up his messages and drop them on a much more regular basis. So it was that he'd been able to intercept this one and leave one of his own.

Human trafficking confirmed. Search nationwide missing persons – first name: Delenn, missing +5 years. Board meeting is on, +3 days – expect sting details and release of innocents to first fallback position in +4.

He considered what he'd written, mulling it over for a moment.

Sorry you had to die, he added, and then nodded at his note and slipped it into the mail slot of an abandoned store front near Proxima Park.

It was the middle of the day on a Saturday; children were playing on the swings and slide. A young couple was walking their dog along the park's perimeter. An older couple was seated at a picnic table, sharing lunch in the shade of the same tree he'd been hiding behind during the shootout that had led to Sergeant Allan's injury and his own "arrest." He wondered if these people even knew how unsafe this park had become. In one respect, he was glad they seemed unaware of any impending danger; on the other, he really wished he could clear the park and close it until all this was over.

His cell phone rang and he answered, noting the source of the call before he did so. "Hello."

"Where are you?"

He was glad for the truth in his answer. "Proxima Park."

"I need you to meet Wade in five minutes behind the CVS on Welch Street." And the call was cut off, just like that. He shook his head and rolled his eyes, but it did no good. Welch Street was a two-minute walk, at least – he needed to get going.

It was a beautiful day outside, but Epsilon County Police Chief Kosh barely noticed. He was in his office at 1 Police Plaza, as usual, keeping tabs on the ragtag team he'd assembled whose job it would be to take down the Shadows. He hadn't been able to do it himself, but these kids… these kids had it in them. So far they were doing very well. It definitely was not his time – it was theirs.

And now he was staring at a missing persons report, pulled at the request of the Babylon PD by way of Commander Ivanova, which came by way of her partner, Marcus Cole. Marcus Cole hadn't been part of Kosh's plan, but in hindsight he was a good addition, and a necessary one given that, for all intents and purposes, Ivanova was dead until this was over.

Kosh sighed as he put the report into the fax machine and sent it over to BPD. Captain Sheridan's report had caught Kosh by surprise; he'd thought Delenn long dead. In this he had felt kinship with Sheridan, due to the loss of Anna, and it was for this reason he'd felt Sheridan the right man to go to Z'ha'dum, the right man to bring the Shadows to light. He still felt that way, and maybe moreso, but for the first time in a long time… Kosh felt a glimmer of hope.