From julifolo@ux1.cso.uiuc.edu Tue Dec 24 22:11:46 1996 Date: Sun, 20 Oct 1996 01:53:09 -0500 (CDT) From: watkins julia k To: b5-creative@lists.best.com Subject: "Post Inquisitor" (complete) Hello all! Here is story one, a repost, slightly revised. =========== The original introduction still applies: Here's my next story, of the "unwritten scenes" variety. This is a continuationn of "Comes the Inquisitor" and I think it will make the most sense if read soon after watching that episode, which is why I pushed myself to get it posted today, since the episode was the rerun this week. This is a fictive discussion of matters brought up in CtI. It owes much to spirited newsgroup discussion about "The Vorlon Way". Thanks also to Justin, Mary Richards, Monica and Tavo who commented on this in draft. And special thanks to Kymberlee, who proposed two short paragraphs (one each of Lennier and Delenn) which got me on the right track, and to Felicia for several Delenn additions and several questions that got me to write more descriptionn. I hope you like it. Julie Hopeless Romantic ====================== standard disclaimers ====================== "Post Inquisitor" by Julie Watkins Breathe, Sheridan told himself as he keyed the call button to Delenn's quarters. Get your anger under control. Too much had happened and he understood none of it. Sebastian was gone. He had laid the truth down in front of the Vorlon inquisitor/human murderer, and it was of no matter. Sebastian had accepted Sheridan's comment that he was better dead, and yet still mocked him. So Sheridan came here, unsatisfied, hoping Delenn could help him reach closure. Sheridan had entered Grey 19 to see her lying on the floor and Sebastian in a crouch, gloating over her. She could have been dying. He had a gun and a threat but he, too, became a victim. His wrists still hurt, bruised from the manacles, and the echo of the white-hot pain still made his skin crawl. He wanted to scream at someone, make them pay. Lennier met him at the door. Sheridan nodded his thanks and entered. Delenn rose from her seat and smiled in welcome. "I just saw Sebastian off station," he told her. "He's gone back to the Vorlons." "That is well," Delenn said evenly. No emotion. Or she doesn't want to show it. Damn, damn, damn, Sheridan thought. I knew it. She doesn't think she has a reason to be angry. What am I going to do now? I want to yell and scream and she's going to have none of it. He didn't understand; she had been hurt much worse than him. It's Kosh. Kosh can do no wrong. Damn you Kosh. "Mr. Lennier," Sheridan turned back to the aide. "I wanted to thank you for coming to me for help. It seems you came just at the right time." That didn't sound sincere, he said to himself. I'm not doing very well here. "Thank you, Captain." Lennier answered in the same tone, and then the silence got awkward. Sheridan had walked out of the torture chamber wondering what he was going to tell Garibaldi, who he expected at any moment. Sebastian had released them, and they had fallen into a comfortable embrace each more worried for the other than himself. The embrace had held through Sebastian's "explanation" and the scent of her hair had recalled Anna to him, all the more so for being different. He had been alone for so long, letting no one come near. It had been difficult for him to disengage to find his jacket, and he did not know how long he had been held prisoner. Yet for all the time that had passed, it was only Lennier that was waiting for them at the outer door. Sheridan had told Lennier to tell Garibaldi, but the Minbari aide had understood Sheridan's words (so he said) to mean "call Mr. Garibaldi if you were gone too long" and now Sheridan was standing between the conclusions of "Lennier was part of this" and "He's too concerned about secrecy". Sebastian had not seemed to be surprised at his entrance. Sheridan continued to stare him. Lennier decided he was no longer welcome. He turned and picked up the papers that were on the table behind him mummbling something about having duties somewhere else, although at the moment he wasn't sure what they were or where. As the door closed, John wondered what to say next. He didn't want to talk about Sebastian, so that left Sebastian's question, "What is he to you?" Sheridan wondered how Delenn had answered that to herself, and then repremanded himself. How egotistical. I should wonder at the question he asked me: "What is she to you?" I love her, he answered silently. And paused in surprize. Do I? This was all going too fast and there she was, standing in front of him, puzzled at his looks. They had been willing to die for each other. Had it been more than battle courage? What was she feeling? "Ah, Delenn," he fumbled. "I wanted to see you were all right." Neither of them had gone to medlab, though they should have. "I'm still confused over this ... test. I'm not sure what it proved." "We are 'the right people in the right place at the right time.'" she smiled. He turned away, afraid he was going to lose it. "Sebastian's judgement. I don't feel very complimented. Do you know what he was?" "I received your report," Delenn said, her smile fading a little. "He got his jollies slicing up women and leaving the pieces artfully arranged-- I walked in, he was crouching over you. If I had known then who he was--" he couldn't continue. She said carefully, taking a step towards him. "He was what the Vorlons needed." Sheridan turned away. Delenn's words, however carefully worded, only increased his anger. He didn't want Delenn to explain. He wanted her to be angry with him. "Oh, yes. The Vorlons needed Jack the Ripper." He spoke the word "need" in a tone of utter contempt. "I can't believe that doesn't ... worry you." He kept his back to her and his voice kept getting louder. "They pulled him from Earth. They stopped one string of murders, and started another? Sebastian said he'd been looking for us 'for centuries'. Who were the other people he tortured? Who were the other people he killed? He did this, the Vorlons condoned this, for our sake? Delenn, I don't want this on my conscious." "You do not understand--" Delenn tried to interrupt. She put her hand on his elbow to turn him back to face her. His anger silenced her. "No I don't." "Yes, he was a horrible man," Delenn forced herself to continue. "Yet his questions remain. Darkness is coming. There will be hard choices." Looking into her eyes Sheridan saw acceptance rather than denial. It wasn't that she didn't understand what he had told her, it was that the revelation was irrelevant. Again, he tried to get through that wall of blind trust, forcing control back into his voice. Somehow he could not look at Delenn and keep yelling. "And what should we have to do with a murderer? I thought we are to be an army of light." His voice was now more puzzled than angry. "Yes." She stopped at that one word. There was a pause in the air but she did not fill it. Instead, she looked at him, watching his reaction. Sheridan only looked back in utter confusion. No explaination. Nothing beyond acceptance. Delenn, he begged her silently, how can you see your path so clearly one step at a time and not question what is the step after? Why do you not question the direction the stones are set to lead? How can I hope to find the right answers when nothing makes any sense? "How far are you prepared to go?" Delenn asked suddenly. Sheridan only stared, unbelieving, fighting the urge to flinch. "How much will you risk?" The same words, or nearly so. His hand fisted with remembered pain. "How many people are you prepared to sacrifice for victory?" "Stop it." Murder, sacrifice. We've already sacrificed Talia. How much more blood would will be put on our hands? "Those are his questions, Sebastian's. There's no reason for this." "You do not wish to continue." "No." He tried to laugh as he said that, but he was too upset and his voice betrayed that. "Then it is most urgent that we do so." Sheridan stared at her. I don't believe this, he said to himself, but he knew better than to try to disuade Delenn once she had made up her mind. "I really don't want to do this," he muttered as his eyes scanned the room. Couch. I'm taller than she is, I should sit. If I'm supposed to be taking a lesson I should be looking up at her. He sat down, suddenly tired. I came here wanting to end this uncertainty, not prolong it. Haven't you had enough of this? You were alone with Sebastian for hours before I got called in. "Who are you willing to sacrifice?" Delenn repeated the question. "War isn't a sacrifice. We're all volunteers." Sheridan explained. "People die. It's all a matter of luck when the time comes--who gets to lay down his life so another can live." "That is a naive answer, John. Should I use the word 'flippant'? You have seen the destruction the shadows have caused already, do you think they will stop when they have destroyed all those who 'volunteer'? They are unconcerned with our motives, and others will die." In those words he heard her own willingness to die, and it was more than he could bear. He had seen that willingness when he was bound to the wall, powerless, and it wasn't only he she was willing to die for. It's too much, Delenn, he wanted to tell her, what right does the universe have to ask this of you? But what would they do but continue? He looked down, chastised. His voice became quiet, serious. "We'll do what we have to." "Not 'we', John. You. You avoid the question. Who?" She paused, trying to find an scenario to prove her point. "An example: This place is crucial. It is necessary that you remain in command here. Earthdome can replace you. How can you prove your loyalty?" She stepped closer. "Point a finger, John. Name a traitor. No time for volenteers, no apoligies possible. Who?" His blood ran cold and his voice locked. It was possible, a very real threat. And he could not predict how he would respond. "Why do you think you were chosen, John? You will sell your soul for the sake of others; you do the wrong thing for the right reason." "If I'm damned you're following the same path." He looked away. Delenn reached forth a hand, turning his face back. "Will you keep to your path though you walk it friendless and alone?" "No!" He refused to accept this blurring of good and evil that she had set before him. It stank of the talk of politicians. "I am for life, just as you are. It may be Kosh's way, the Vorlon way, that would throw his weapons into the fire to break or temper them. That's not our way. I will not abandon these people that are under my protection. These questions are wrong. Kosh was wrong. Why do you defend him?" "The test was necessary." "No." He stood, breaking the contract. He could no longer cooperate; he could no long pretend to accept the validity of Kosh's test. "That we learned our strength was inmaterial. It's tainted. I will not call it right. We are insects to them, the Vorlons. Nothing more than pawns." He paused, turning back to her. "I came to save you, thinking Sebastian was out of control. I don't believe that anymore, that Kosh wasn't aware of the torture." "Sebastian could have killed us. That is truth." For a moment she looked uneasy. Her eyes hardened again when she saw his look of triumph. "Kosh had him do what he would do, knowing if we did not falter that Sebastian would cease." Sheridan laughed at her trusting. "Without that danger there could have been no test, no strengthening." Sheridan shook his head. "I asked him to teach me. What he's shown me I don't understand. He knew about Anna and the _Icarus_ all along; he only showed me when forced." "Why do you wish to die?" Delenn's voice had softened, becoming tentative. It seemed she did not want him to pay that price any more than he wanted it for her. He was not surprized Kosh had told her. He would go to Z'Ha'Dum, he had told Kosh. Kosh had answered "You will die." He had answered back that he would not go down easily and he would not go down alone. "That is my part." Sheridan laughed without humor. "'The right place at the right time.' The Shadows have returned to Z'Ha'Dum and I will kill them there as they killed my wife." His voice was sarcastic, as if he now questioned the purpose of his vow, however much it called to him. "Kosh does not send you there. His was a warning." He shook his head, turning away. "And what of Anna?" "She's dead." "No," Delenn said. He turned back to face her. A terrible silence filled the room. Her eyes, both fire and ice, locked onto his. "She is dead," Delenn continued. "... Or the Shadows have her." "Damn it!" Sheridan moaned, fighting back the instant tears, looking for a target to strike out at. The room disolved into darkness. The nightmare came back to him. Anna was there, on that shadowy world that Kosh had shown him--Z'Ha'Dum--held by invisible bonds. All her life muffled in the dim undifferentiated light. Three long years, eyes open and listless, waiting hopelessly. She had been abandoned. ... He would wake to anger and loathing, at the Shadows, at himself, that he could live and not heed her pleas. "Don't torture me with hope." Delenn shivered in fear at his words, the coldness fled from her, her voice unsteady though her words attempted to be hard. "You are at risk if you would speak so. You should not hope she lives, but dread it. If she lives she has turned as Morden has turned." "Morden didn't turn, he begged. Anna died fighting." "How do you know she is dead? Or do you merely wish she is dead?" "She's dead." He had to force himself to say it: "It is better for her to have died." "And what are your dreams, John?" Delenn could see that there were fears he would not voice to himself. He held himself too tense. There were thoughts he was trying to push aside, though he needed to confront them. "Memory or nightmare?" Against his will, Sheridan remembered. The dreams had come, each worse than the last, and only one solution, one posibility of hope: "Help me," Anna had begged. Though they were lightyears apart he tried to wipe away her tears, hand on the screen. She had escaped but the shadows were following her. Delenn went to get her and a silent ship came back. He entered, blood everywhere, all dead. Ambush. ... "What do you want?" Anna asked, and her smile was Morden's smile. "You," he answered. "Well then," she prompted, and he handed the data crystal to President Clark. "This will prove your case against Hague," he said innocently, as if he hadn't known there would be no trial. ... "Don't do it," Garibaldi said. "Take that ship back to the barn." He had placed himself between him and the gate. "They're going to kill her," he answered. "She's turned, John. She knows they're the enemy and she still begged you to come. She doesn't deserve to live." He fired on Garibaldi's starfury, and accelerated through the shrapnel to the jumpgate. ... "She doesn't want your help," Ivanova said as she and Lizzy held him back. "She won't take life at that cost." He sank to the ground weeping, watching the knife split her throat. ... Anna saw the ticket and backed away. It was passage out, and it had no name on it. She was starving, it was money. They had left it for her; wanting her to do their work, but she wouldn't. She'd rather die. ... In the end, that is the only hope: to find her waiting when all is done. And as temptationn called to him he would wake in fear for his soul. He was seated. He didn't remember when he sat again on the couch. There were tears on his face. How long? "Don't take her memory from me. That's all I have left," he begged in a whisper. Delenn sat beside him, her eyes misted, her voice an apology. It hurt her to see Sheridan in such pain. It hurt her that she had to increase that pain in order to heal it. "Bury your love then. Let her die; see her dead. The memories are a comfort and a shield. Keep them! But keep them behind a door that only you open. All that you have of her is what you have now. No more. Kill the hope; deny the nightmares. The shadows cannot use her against you if you will not accept their lies. If her name, her face, her voice comes to you in the now--from outside--see it as the danger it is." "Oh, God." There were also the dreams that he entered with yearning and dread. Anna in memory or might-have-been. The happiest days on the _Agamemnon_ where those few visits when she could stay long enough that they could pretend his quarters were home for both of them. Her suitcases hid, shelves and drawers rearranged, schedules unset. He would enter to her papers spread all over the floor, not knowing if her arms would circle him in ambush. The touch of her skin, the taste of her mouth. ... It was a wound never healed for he knew with each dream's beginning that there would ever be an end and he would awake to bitter loneliness. "I don't want to lose her." "You are vulnerable. The Shadows killed her." Delenn's voice caught. She wanted to be sure, but there was no guarentee. "They probably killed her. They did not know who she was, who she would be. They know now your wife, the wife of the captain of Babylon 5, was on the _Icarus_ and they should have kept her living for bait. They have records, recordings. They can construct a false message, a call for help, to lead you into a trap. Or for a distraction when two moments would be enough for our destruction. You must be prepared for this." Dully, Sheridan nodded. It was a weapon in their hand. Of course they will use it. The weapon had been armed the moment he brought Morden in. If he hadn't gone crazy Morden wouldn't know just how potent the weapon was. Once again his hot head had turned bad into worse. It was all too much. He had to get out of here. Back to his room, cry himself to sleep and hope for no nightmares. Delenn held him down when he started to move, hand on his leg, and then her arms surround him. Once again, the comfortable embrace, as he had no embrace since Anna. Once again, the scent of her hair. She held him, he held her, and he came back to awareness as he was shifting his head to put his mouth on her neck. For a moment it had been Anna he was holding. "Oh, hell--" Grief welled but his eyes began to clear. Oh hell oh hell. This was not a good idea. But the embrace was too warm, and he let himself enjoy it. He could hardly blame himself for reacting after all the stress and grief. It's hormones, just hormones. What is he to you? Sebastiann had asked her. None of your concern, Delenn had answered. What is she to me? Sheridan asked himself again. None of my concern, was his amended answer. Don't let this "chosen" nonsense get to your head, soldier, the thoughts continued. You can't have her. You want someone on the rebound to help you forget, you want someone to use. Don't use Delenn. Delenn deserves better. She's the representative of her government just as you are of yours. You swore your oath. You came here looking for a way to take the government back from Clark. You're already on the edge with the covert help to Narn, and the Rangers, and Draal. Don't add commiseration to the list. He disengaged. "I think I'd better leave." "Are you certain?" she asked, wiping away her tears. "Yeah." He thought about looking for a kitchen sink to wash his face, but who knew what ritual he'd upset walking into private territory. Breath, he told himself, and worked himself back to calm. Behave yourself, he told himeself, making his formal "goodbye" ... calm, professional, impersonal. But damned if he didn't flash her a warm and winning smile as the door closed between them. ===end===