From anna@zhadum.com Wed Dec 25 00:59:09 1996 Date: Sun, 1 Dec 1996 21:13:04 +0000 From: Angel Trinkle To: b5-creative@lists.best.com Subject: Songs and Shadows 1/1 Yes, all, another non-Convergence story! I originally posted this to the unrestricted list... but there's nothing more dangerous than a little slush, so I thought I'd repost it over here. Shortly after seeing Z'ha'dum, I sat down at the keyboard and let this out, but found myself balked by the lack of a plot. Recently, it occured to me that it would make a perfect missing scene... so here it is. Thanks to my enthusiastic beta readers. Disclaimers: Babylon 5 belongs to JMS, the mostly-defunct PTEN, and Warner Brothers. I'm only borrowing it, I'm not going to make any money of of it, yadda yadda yadda. If JMS had written this scene in the first place, I wouldn't have had to, but he didn't, so I did. Etc. Songs and Shadows missing scene from "Z'ha'dum" In the darkness beside him, she stirred. He wouldn't-- *couldn't* sleep with her; even lying next to her left him staring towards the ceiling. Yet another hint, added to the little clues that the confused imitation had left behind without even realizing. No matter what the circumstances, he could always sleep beside Anna. Day, night, peace or war, her steady breathing had always been a lullaby. Tonight it was not. She'd been asleep for awhile, long enough for her to be entering REM sleep, he supposed. How else to explain the movement, her twitching? He was half-afraid she'd fall off the Minbari bed. "John." He froze as she moaned his name. "John, help me." The words froze him to the core; they were *her* words, *her* voice. "Johnny," she whimpered like a child. "Johnny, Johnny, where are you? Don't let them hurt me, please, I'll be good--" her voice stilled again, choked off in a sob. God. Had it been like that for her, alone in the dark, crying for him? If he had gone to Z'ha'dum before, after he'd arrested Morden-- would her soul have been destroyed even then? He turned away from her, blocking that thought ferociously. No! He would have been too late regardless, there was no other way to think. Any other thoughts would drive him mad. Think of something else, think of-- Delenn. She laughed in his mind, her eyes sparkling. Such beauty, both in body and spirit, a beauty he'd scarcely recognized existed since Anna-- "No," Anna spoke into the darkness again. Another dream? It seemed so. An idle part of his mind wondered if she'd heard him thinking about Delenn, about how he loved her now. No. Surely she was only dreaming. "No, don't," she pleaded in a whisper. "Please don't. Leave me alone." The words struck at his heart. He longed to wake her up, but some part of him stopped his movement. In sleep, the masks are dropped. Perhaps he would get a glimpse of the reality behind this creature with his dead wife's face and voice. "Lights low," he commanded softly. He blinked against the illumination, looked down at Anna. The dream must have ended, for her features were still. Empty. But for the color in her cheeks, and her faint breathing, he might have mistaken her for dead.... "Is there anything left to you?" he mused aloud. "Is my Anna there somewhere, hiding? Asleep? Who are you?" "The sinner went down to hide his face/ but the rock cried out, no hiding place--" In his memory, Anna's voice was clear and sweet, her cheeks and nose red with cold and excitement. His voice was joined in, with Liz's and his parents'. Runners creaking over the snow-- god, he remembered that night-- how could he have forgotten? It was the second Christmas after the Earth-Minbari war. The snow had fallen that year, heavily, and Dad had gotten the idea in his head to resurrect some cheesy ancient song-- what was it? Oh, yes. "Jingle Bells." How could he have forgotten? They'd complained-- and joked-- about the constant jingling of the bells every time they finished a song. It was mostly why they'd started singing, anyway-- to listen to something besides that blasted jingling. Damned if Dad hadn't found a one-horse open sleigh-- and someone to drive it-- and even a horse. He was so proud of himself.... So they were singing, riding across the fields. Christmas carols. But somehow, "Silent Night" had led to "Amazing Grace," which led to the rock-- "One old spiritual deserves another," his mother had said. And they had sang, voices blending not unpleasantly, simply rejoicing in the day and the feeling of being all together. Anna was snug and warm under his arm. All was right with the world. Anna's sweet voice was replaced by Delenn's hesitant one, and she cautiously sang him to sleep.... **** "Hi, honey," a warm cheerful voice greeted him as he came through the door. "Have a nice day?" "It was all right," he said, taking in the beautiful sight of his wife seated cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by flimsys and hand-scrawled notes. "How's the thesis coming?" "It's coming," she replied, scowling at a printout that displeased her, then giving him a smile that warmed the cold parts of him. Anna would have added impudently. When asked, she had replied "It's coming," to every query on the status of every major paper she'd ever completed, until one day she'd reply, "It was a girl (or a boy, depending on the paper)." The next day, she'd turn it in. This particular paper, if he remembered correctly, was her first foray into xenolinguistics-- a thesis on something Narnish, he was vague on the details. It had later been published; her first professional sale outside the field of xenoarchaeology. Something was wrong. It niggled at his thoughts, danced maddeningly out of reach in the back of his mind while they ate dinner, made love, and got ready for bed. he reassured himself. Anna was dropping off to sleep when he figured it out. "What are you doing here?" "What do you mean?" she asked sleepily. "I live here." "I'm dreaming," he said. "What are you doing here?" "How should I know? It's your dream." She rolled over, curling against him. "I suppose you have some inner tensions you need to work out or something, and you need to talk about it. I was always your secret confessor, so here I am." "Here. And there." His gesture included the waking world. She shook her head. "Just here. That-- out there-- isn't me anymore. I exist only in her dreams-- her nightmares, usually. Don't hate her, Johnny. It isn't her fault she isn't me. But don't fall for her either, just because she has my face and voice. She's got her soul. Mine's gone." He nodded, accepting that. "So I can get on with my life?" "You could always `get on with your life,' love. You just hadn't been ready until recently." "I love her." "I know," she said, knowing he meant Delenn. "I approve." "Do you?" "Of course. She's good for you. Much calmer than me. I think you'll do well together." "I thought you'd be--" "Jealous?" She raised an eyebrow. "Horrifically." She smiled. "But there's not much I can do. A man needs more than just an active fantasy life to keep him happy." He laughed. "You're terrible." "You wouldn't have me any other way." "No, I guess I wouldn't," he agreed. "I love you, Anna." "I love you too, Johnny." **** John woke up, glanced at the still figure sleeping beside him. He left the sleeping room silently, walked down to where the two missiles waited. he thought to his dead wife and his living love, Then he turned and went back to bed. Fin Yours in the Light, Angel -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- |Angel Trinkle Nobody expects the Psi Corps Inquisition! | |angelt@primenet.com Amongst our weaponry are such diverse | |Z'ha'dum in 2258 elements as: fear, surprise, ruthless | |*We know what you want* efficiency, an almost fanatical devotion | |Phoenix Phan to the Corps, and nice black uniforms. | |angel@casfs.org --If Bester were British | |Insert virtual blue ribbon to protest censorship on the net & everywhere.| =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Yours in the Light, Angel -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- |Angel Trinkle Nobody expects the Psi Corps Inquisition! | |angelt@primenet.com Amongst our weaponry are such diverse | |Z'ha'dum in 2258 elements as: fear, surprise, ruthless | |*We know what you want* efficiency, an almost fanatical devotion | |Phoenix Phan to the Corps, and nice black uniforms. | |angel@casfs.org --If Bester were British | |Insert virtual blue ribbon to protest censorship on the net & everywhere.| =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=