Disclaimer: Babylon 5 concept and characters belong to their creators and production company. The following story is exclusive property of the author; no copyright infringement is intended.
Rating: PG-14.
. . . And A Happy New Year
© 2001, Jo Taylor
Susan's kiss was not the only thing to send Marcus' temperature soaring and weaken his limbs. Stephen's medication and the initial euphoria of her touch soon waned, and the infection that had entered his system took hold, leaving him weak and delirious.
For two days lucid consciousness eluded him, though his dreams were full of memories and thoughts that taunted his mind. He was unaware of his mutterings, the tossing and turning of his fevered body as visions haunted his dreams, their content and meaning just out of his grasp.
Through them all one image returned time and again, the one thing that held any clarity for him in his torment, the face of a child. Frightened brown eyes fixed on his, tears glistening on the long lashes, the soft mouth quivered under a pert nose. The child spoke, but he could not hear the words, only the sensation of fear, of desperate need reached him, and then his mind wandered once more down pathways that led nowhere.
Shivering, he opened his eyes to the bright glare of Med Lab. The light was suddenly obscured as Stephen Franklin leaned over his bed, the dark brown eyes concerned even as a smile lit his friend's face.
"Hey, Marcus, welcome back."
The familiar tones of Franklin's voice soothed some of the torment that had surfaced with him, easing the slight disorientation that clung persistently to his hazy thoughts. He felt terrible; the drugs washing through his system made him feel lousy as antibiotics swarmed the last of the infection that had run rampant through his wiry body. He licked gently at dry lips and found a strong arm lifting him as a straw was presented to his parched mouth. Sweet, cold water washed against his coated tongue and he sighed happily.
"That's enough for now. No, no more."
He was laid gently back, much against his will, but as he was unable to raise himself he gave in with what good grace he could muster.
Marcus' eyes slid shut as another chilly wave washed through him. He heard orders being issued, felt the press of a needle in his arm and the added warmth of a blanket being draped over his aching body. Within moments darkness claimed him as a natural sleep took his body in its healing embrace. Even though his fever had broken and the delirium had left his mind, still his dreams turned back to the little girl who had been the constant thread of his nightmares. He saw her now in greater detail, the long blonde curls framed a chubby, angelic face; her clothes were torn and dirty but had obviously once been of good quality. And the abject misery that effused her features cut at him, called to him for succour. All around her was darkness, deep, impenetrable with no hint of time or place. He did not know who she was, where he might have encountered her or why she figured so large in his thoughts, he only knew that she needed his help. That he must find her, wherever she was. His mind knew no doubt that the child was in danger, and that it was his task to protect and rescue her.
When next he opened his eyes, the dim lighting and hushed sounds indicated the night watch had begun. Flexing one hand and then another he was relieved to feel some strength returning to his weakened limbs. He tensed and relaxed each set of muscles, testing his resilience and pinpointing areas that were still distressed. The whole of his left side ached where the gun's discharge had seared through his flesh damaging muscles and tissues, leaving him with yet another scar he mused. His body was becoming a road map to the calling he had chosen, a testament to the Ranger way of life. Sighing softly he pushed himself upright, catching his breath as pain shot through his shoulder. Sensitive fingers sought the area and met with a med patch, matching the one that adorned his torso -- the blast had gone right through him then, shooting up at an awkward angle, missing vital organs by millimetres.
Sliding his legs over the edge of the bed he sat quietly for a moment, letting his senses settle from the mad whirling that turned the room about him. Gradually, as he breathed deeply, concentrating on the flow of air in and out of his lungs, the world stopped spinning and he eased himself down to the floor. His body protested; knees that normally had the action of well oiled springs now threatened to cave beneath him. He grabbed quickly at the bed, his eyes scanning the room for any stray doctor or nurse that might try and stop his rash actions. Normally he would not flout Franklin's edicts, nor would he be so careless as to disregard his body's needs, but there was something driving at his senses, something that told him there was a mission for him to complete, a job he had left undone. It thundered through him, echoing in his tired mind until it blotted out all else.
He must have made a strange sight as his tall unkempt figure in its incongruous medical blues gingerly made its way down thankfully empty corridors. Making the safety of the transport, Marcus collapsed gratefully against the wall and directed the conveyance to his floor. Right now what he needed most was his own bed, some time to meditate and to sort out who or what was plaguing his thoughts. His head rested against the faintly vibrating wall and he let his eyes close briefly. The small lurch under his feet alerted him that a floor had been reached and he opened his eyes reluctantly, to find Susan Ivanova gazing at him in amazement, one foot stepping over the threshold.
Inwardly he groaned; he loved the woman dearly but already he could see storm clouds gathering on her face.
"What the hell are you doing, Marcus?" Susan snapped. Marching right up to him, she stood bare inches away from his ailing form.
He tried his best to stand a little straighter and to lift his head from the comfort of the wall's support but he stood defeated.
"Oh bugger!" he sighed softly, the remains of his masculine pride lying in tatters around him. "Lend a hand, Susan, there's a terrible draught cutting right through these." His hand plucked at the thin blue material and he thought he saw the faintest gleam of amusement quickly suppressed in her lovely eyes.
"Does Stephen know you are out of the Med Lab?" Right on cue her link bleeped, and a message from C&C reached her. 'Doctor Franklin has lost a patient, would everyone be on the lookout for --'
"I have him. Tell Med Lab I am bringing him --"
"Susan, no, please." The urgency in his tone stayed her for a moment. "There something I have to do. I can't go back right now."
Her eyes bore into him, assessing his condition and the apparent urgency of his mission and she came to a swift conclusion.
"C&C, this is Ivanova, tell Doctor Franklin I will escort Mr Cole to his own quarters. I'll be in touch with him direct should his services be required."
"Your reasons had better be good, Cole." She slipped a strong arm around his waist and pulled him close to her, taking his weight with ease. "Let's go then."
They moved slowly, each step Marcus took sent a shiver of pain lancing through his shoulder where it then radiated along every nerve and sent a resonant pounding through his temples. But for now he did not care. Ivanova had her arm around him and, from this intimate contact, he could smell the fresh scent of her shampoo, the soft fragrance of her natural perfume. Just a shame he was in no fit state to really appreciate his position.
He cued his door and they stepped in to relative darkness. The area was sparsely furnished, almost spartan in its clean lines and lack of accessories. A bed, a chair plus the usual amenities seemed lost in the small room. On one side a tiny galley hosted a single set of cutlery and china, the cupboards held little in the way of comestibles. Susan draped the weary Ranger onto the bed then went looking for the makings of a hot drink or some kind of food. Marcus watched in affectionate amusement as she turned domestic.
"My god, Marcus, don't you have anything to eat in the place?" She pulled open the small refrigeration unit and hastily shut it again, nose wrinkling against the sudden smell. "Something has died in there. Don't you ever clean up?"
"Gorgonzola," he said quietly, trying not to laugh, it hurt too much to indulge in the sudden rush of humour that shot through him.
"Well, it stinks. " She rattled through his only cupboard, finally finding a pack of tea sachets that Delenn had given him long ago. "What about these? Are they safe to drink?"
"The blue ones, not the red -- on the other hand, I could probably do with waking up a bit."
He tried to struggle upright but Susan's hand was firm on his chest. "You will have blue and like it. Stephen will have my guts if you end up back in his care worse than when you left." She quickly made the tea, letting it brew for a minute; all the while she had one eye on Marcus' pale face. When it was ready she helped him upright and took the only seat available to her, pulling it up close to his position on the edge of his bed until their knees almost touched. At any other time Marcus would have revelled in her company but the nagging thought that he had something to do, something that urgently needed his attention, kept him distracted. As though aware of his inner turmoil, Susan touched his blue covered thigh, attracting his attention.
"Talk to me, Marcus. What drove you out of Med Lab?"
"Apart from the bloody awful food you mean?" he quipped, almost like his old self. Her eyes brought him down again, and almost as though the image had been waiting for his weakness to allow its entry, the child's image floated into his mind.
"Have you ever had a dream that nags at you? A premonition maybe, something that you just know is the truth?" His deep green eyes caught the sudden shift in hers, almost as though she was uncomfortable with the subject.
"Hasn't everyone," she returned quickly.
"I guess," he said slowly. "Whilst I was out of it, I dreamt, or at least I think I dreamt --" his voice trailed off as doubts now assailed him.
"Tell me." Her voice, though soft, was a definite command.
"I kept seeing this little girl. A sweet little thing all gold curls and big eyes. Nice clothes too, though they were a bit battered in places. She was maybe five or six, I'm not good at women's ages," his grin tried to take the embarrassment from his tone. "Anyway, she seemed lost or in distress. I kept seeing her face, and I knew that she needed my help. That she needs my help," he stressed the present tense, suddenly wanting to make Susan understand his quest.
Susan's face gave nothing away and yet he was aware of her sudden stillness, the tension that ran through her.
"What is it? Is there a child missing on the station? Come on, Susan, spill it!"
She stood abruptly and took a quick turn around his small room. He watched through his fatigue as she paced back and forth, almost hearing the wheels turning behind her shuttered eyes. Her glance, when she finally desisted from her perambulations, was cool, her tone matching the sudden aloofness that surrounded her. Gone was the caring friend of a moment ago, she was all Commander now, calling on her Russian poise.
"I'll check it out. For now, I suggest you get some rest."
"Susan!" He struggled to his feet in time to see her back disappearing from view. Cursing under his breath he sank back down. He hated it when she got in this sort of mood. On a good day he could read her as easily as bold type on an open page, but occasionally, as now, she confused him utterly. That there was something going on that he knew nothing about he was sure. How it involved the lost child eluded him.
***
Ivanova entered Med Lab some few hours later. Franklin was back on duty and still seething at Marcus' midnight flit from his care and his glance was far from friendly as she stepped over the threshold.
"Well?" Stephen turned and dismissed the junior doctor at his side and escorted Susan into his office. "How's my patient doing?" he asked, tapping his fingers against the desk.
"He's tough, he'll be okay. Stephen, remember about a year ago the Siskin girl who vanished?"
He sat up quickly, his eyes scanning the immediate vicinity for anyone who might have heard Susan's soft utterance.
"What about her? Has she been found?"
Susan moved a little closer, changing position until she could watch the surrounding area through the clear partition. "Marcus claims to have seen her whilst he was in here. Apparently she was haunting his dreams. Could she still be alive or is it just fever driven delusions?"
"Are you sure it was her?" Their low voiced conference had started to garner unwanted attention and he let a smile play across his face to deflect their curiosity.
"He gave me a pretty good description of her. How could he know, Stephen? He wasn't even on the station when that whole scenario went down." She let her own smile show for those still watching.
"I think it's time for a house call, don't you?"
***
Marcus had spent the rest of the night trying to sleep, but between the pain in his side and the intrusion of the waif-like face, along with a vague sense of familiarity, he woke feeling less than refreshed. His head buzzed uncomfortably and his mouth tasted awful. 'Valen,' he thought to himself, 'I haven't even got the excuse of a hangover.'
He opened his eyes slowly, and winced at the sudden intrusion of light on his photosensitive retinas. He was met with the presence of Stephen and Susan standing by his bedside. Closing his eyes again he counted up to ten out loud in Minbari; the visions were still there when he opened them again.
"I can't afford a home visit, Stephen. Go away, there's a good chap; let me die in peace."
"You are not going to die, Marcus," the patient voice pronounced with authority. Marcus was still in his medical blues and Stephen rolled up the sleeve to administer a painkilling injection.
Susan had taken up a post against the far wall, watching Marcus with an intensity that was becoming quite intrusive. With an effort, Marcus pushed himself up from the bed and straightened up, wincing at the stab of pain that shot through him. Two sets of hands reached to steady his swaying body. He stood, perfectly still, until their unwanted help was removed. On occasion he could assume the most distant mien, and although it sat ill with his undressed state, it had the desired effect.
Although he heard Susan's breathed curse he ignored them both, heading for the sonic shower. "If you two don't mind, I need to freshen up a bit, put some clothes on. Was this just a social call? If not you'll have to excuse me for a moment or two."
Stephen's "I'll come with you," raised his eyebrow in disbelief.
"Much as I love you Stephen, this is one thing I can manage for myself!"
"Don't be an idiot, I want to check your wounds and replace the dressings. Unless you would rather we did it here, in front of the Commander?"
He felt the colour seep into his cheeks and turned quickly away from Susan's tight grin and bright eyes. Under other circumstances he would be delighted to strip for her, but not now, and not like this.
The two men disappeared into the small bathroom and Susan got only the briefest glimpse of Marcus' half-naked body. The pale skin glistened in the overhead lighting, and scars old and new were highlighted in its uncompromising glare. Not for the first time Susan wondered at the life he led. He had always been closed mouthed about where he was sent and what he had to do. The scars indicated more danger than she would have thought the brief of 'watch and report' might involve.
Stephen returned as the shower started up and they spoke quietly together, even though it was unlikely Marcus could hear them over the sonic noise.
"How much do we tell him? I know he's as trustworthy as they come, but this is not our secret to tell." Susan bit her lip in frustration at Stephen's question.
"It's not really my place to make this decision. You were the one running the whole show, you knew the Siskins better than anyone else." She paused to let him gather his thoughts. "Would they trust a Ranger with this?"
Stephen's eyes turned to the closed bathroom door, where the sound of the shower had ceased, his gaze considered. "He may be their only hope." With his eyes back on Susan, he did not hear the door behind him open as he said, "I think we have to tell him some of the truth at least. I think we can trust him."
"That's nice to know," commented the soft voice behind them. Dressed in his Ranger uniform of browns and black, his hair still damp, he looked almost his usual self. Only the paleness of his features and his unusually quiet attitude attested to his recent illness and his current low state.
The two jumped guiltily and turned as one to face him. Susan was first to recover, and gestured for him to sit. He did so, and the others joined him; Franklin beside him on the bed and Ivanova taking the chair.
"So, what is it you can trust me with?"
Franklin began. "About a year ago, maybe longer, we had a few visitors going through the station. People that the rest of the staff here knew nothing about. I helped them get past the system, arranged transport and papers."
Marcus nodded, and edged in before Stephen could continue. "You are talking about the telepaths, those on the run from PsiCorp." It was not a question but a quiet statement.
Franklin's eyes widened then narrowed suspiciously. "How did you know about that?"
The grin that split Marcus' face radiated humour. "Come now, Stephen, I'm a Ranger remember. There is very little we don't know about what is going on." His eyes crinkled in laughter abruptly curtailed as a spasm of pain radiated through him. "Bugger, that hurt," he cursed.
Susan had flinched unconsciously in sympathy as Marcus pressed a hand to the wound.
"Sorry, shouldn't swear with ladies present," he grinned at her.
"For god's sake, Marcus, how do you know?" Susan leaned forward interrogatively.
His smile vanished as dark thoughts took hold. "The Rangers had known about the rogue telepaths for some time. They had been filtering through various systems, coming under attack from PsiCorp and others for months. One group in particular, on Varin Prime, was almost wiped out. This particular clique was helpful to us; saved one of our operatives from a rather sticky end. " He hesitated for a moment. "I take it what is said here goes no further?" They both nodded.
"Delenn would have my entrails strung on the altar for this if she ever found out. Not that I am opposed to sacrificial slaughter you understand, it has its place don't you think?"
"Marcus," Susan growled.
"Sorry. Where was I? Oh yes, well a group of us decided to help out when we could. We provided a little transport of our own. Did you never wonder how some of the telepaths arrived on Babylon 5?"
"You?" Stephen uttered. "But you weren't assigned to the station at the time."
"Well you may not have seen me, but I was around. The Rangers were on the station quite frequently actually. Great place for finding out all sorts of things."
"Never mind that. Did you have any dealings with the Siskin family? Jake and Sara were the parents and little Naomi was the daughter. From your description of the girl in your dreams, it could be the child. She went missing a year ago today." Ivanova's gaze was intense, compelling.
Marcus let his mind wander back to those days of the illegal railroad he and some of his friends had been involved in. There had been so many desperate faces at that time, but hardly any families. And then it came to him, that very last run on Christmas Eve last year. Stephen had shut the route by that time, Bester had got wind of the operation and things had come to a head, but Marcus had passed the family on to his contact who in turn had contacted Franklin. He had not followed up on them; he never had on any of the refugees he had helped. His plate was already full with scouting the rim, he could not give his time and energy to those he thought safe.
The little girl and her parents had spent most of their short time on his ship closeted in the cabin; he had seen them briefly boarding and departing, that was all. He had a vague recollection of the child tugging at his cloak and his flicking her face with one finger as she grinned up at him; she had been such a happy little girl then.
His face must have given away his thoughts. Stephen, his face grave, took up the narrative.
"She went missing the day after Christmas. We turned this place upside down as best we could without revealing who or what we were looking for. The few telepaths that were still on board, did their best to track her down but she was too young, her latent powers too weak for them to trace. In the end we had to drop the search, we came to the conclusion that she had either been taken off the station or --"
"Well now we know she isn't, don't we. So," Marcus declared purposefully, "we start to look again."
"But where? Marcus we looked everywhere we could think of, and we didn't find a trace of her. Where will you go? Did you see anything in your dreams that hinted at her location?" Susan's intense gaze bored into him.
"I didn't see anything except her face, but -- there was a familiar feel to it. I can't explain it to you, the area was totally black, and yet I knew it."
"Was it even on the station?"
"Oh yes," he replied to her, "somewhere Down Below. That much I do know."
"Then we had best make a move. I am off shift until 2100 tonight; that gives us nearly eight hours. We can at least make a start."
Marcus met Susan's burst of energy with dismay.
"You can't come with me Susan. Everyone down there would spot the uniform and be off in a trice. I work better alone, they know me down there, trust me. I'll find her." Seeing her doubt he added, "I promise."
Franklin stepped in to back Susan's claim. "I think you should take Susan, Marcus. If -- when you do find her, she might feel more comfortable with a woman."
Marcus considered them both for a moment, turning over in his mind all the worst case scenarios. In his present state, if things went very wrong, he would be less than effective. Susan on the other hand could handle herself well in a fight. He might need her backup. Besides, it gave him a chance to spend time with her.
"You need to get changed, something that won't stand out down there. And you had better be armed; you never know what we might be getting into. I'll meet you outside your quarters in half an hour."
Susan nodded and headed to the door, turning she directed an order at Stephen. "Make sure he eats, he has had nothing except a cup of tea for the last few days." Before either man could comment on her sudden concern for the Ranger's welfare, she was gone.
"Well, breakfast had better be my treat. Let's go."
"One moment, Stephen." Marcus rummaged in the bottom cupboard of his kitchen, bringing out a small bag of tightly wrapped items. He tucked them securely in his pocket, picked up his pike and tested it, then fixed it to his belt under the lightweight cloak. "Ready."
Franklin kept a watchful eye on his wayward charge, forcing Marcus to consume rather more than he wanted, and steering him toward more nourishing fare than he would normally eat. Marcus took it all in good part, mostly, until Stephen tried to make him drink a second glass of milk substitute -- at that he cavilled, eyes suddenly stormy.
Email the author!
[email protected]
Main B5/Crusade Fanfic Index Babylon 5 Fanfiction Index
Back to Main Library Index
Back to Main Fanfiction Index
Adventures of Sinbad ~~~ Andromeda ~~~ Angel ~~~ Babylon5 ~~~ BeastMaster: The Series ~~~ Beauty & the Beast
Buffy the Vampire Slayer ~~~ Charmed ~~~
The Crow: Stairway to Heaven ~~~ Crusade ~~~
due South ~~~
Farscape
Gundam Wing ~~~ Highlander: The Series ~~~
Miscellaneous Fiction ~~~ Mortal Kombat ~~~ Mortal Kombat: Conquest
Poltergeist the Legacy ~~~
Raven ~~~
(TSAo) Jules Verne ~~~
The Sentinel ~~~ Stargate SG1 ~~~ Star Trek: Voyager
I can't fix it if I don't know it's broken, so if you see anything wrong, please let me know. Thank you and enjoy your stay!