By Jennie Moore




Authors note: This is just something I thought Sheridan might have been thinking at the time of his rescue. Takes place between "Intersections in Real Time" and "Between the Darkness and the Light."






The feel of grass under his feet.
The scent of orange blossoms.
A warm hand in his.
His name whispered in his ear.

   It all seems so long ago, so far away. Like some other reality that didn't make any more sense then the one he was living in.

   Hope was replaced with fear. Love replaced by hate. And a loss so great that no one will ever know.

   If he escaped farther into himself, he knew he could never get out. 'Hold on.' It seemed his only way of living, if this was truely living. He wanted nothing but a soft bed, warm covers, and the feel of the woman he loved next to him. But in *this* place none of those things existed. Only the hard, cold ground. And no one to catch him if he fell. And he knew that he had fallen, oh so far.

   'To see her again.' It was all he wanted. But in *their* reality, he wasn't sure she existed. *Their* reality was only a dark room and pain, too much pain. He didn't know if he could go on. If giving them what they wanted was truely a way out. And at times he didn't care. 'To see her again.' It became a plea. Something that no one would, or could take from him.

   An image of Michael. That only came with anger. An image of Susan. That came with the feeling of family, like a brother watching over a younger sister. An image of Stephen. That came with the feeling of warmth and friendship. An image of Delenn. The feelings that came with seeing her were impossible to put into words.

   He loved her so, but kept those feeling buried. 'Can't let them touch her. She's my lifeline, my hope for tomorrow, the other half of me.' But would he see her again, like he had so many times in this dark filled room, with only the demons of Hell to keep him company.

   The battles. How many won? How many lost? And would they truely ever be finished with fighting for what was right?

   At times he believed he had escaped, only to find it was *their* way of teaching him. And he learned quickly. He learned that when he would see them, any of them, it was what *they* wanted him to see. Or hear.

   Voices and loud noises. Something new this time to keep him guessing. A light in the room, something else new. And Stephen? But he's not real, only an image.

   "Captain, can you hear me?"

   'How could it be him? And who is behind him?'

   "Michael, I should kick your butt, but I can't remember why?"

   "Captain...John...we've come to take you home."

   'Home?' Like so many other times, he didn't believe *them*. It wasn't his reality.

    Gentle hands checking him for broken bones. Strong arms lifting him out of that damn chair. Walking, painfully, towards the door. 'Can't step across. Pain on the other side.' But he did step across, only to find a dark hallway. And no pain.

   Waking in another small room, but it was warm. 'Is this another trick? Something else to hurt me? God, so tired, so very tired. Please, let this be real.'

   "Delenn is waiting for you, John."

   "Delenn?" His voice sounded as tired as he felt, but the one word was enough.

   A few hours later, he would see her again. Standing in the corridor. 'Like so many times, she stands there with those eyes, looking at me. Was that her voice saying my name?'


   'Why does she say my name that way? Does she know how that makes me feel? Watching her step closer, but why can't I make my legs go. I want to hold her, want to feel her in my arms.'

   Then the arms do go around his neck, her lips pressed to his.

   "Oh, I saw you standing, just like that, so many times." And he knew, that he was in his reality, and she was there. She had never left him, for no amount of space could keep them apart.

   'I love you, Delenn.' Was the only thing he could think in that moment.

   And no one, no one person, could ever take that from him.





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