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er... random B5 ficlet
I suppose this is set sorta post season five, except I haven't watched the last four (THERE WILL BE DEPRESSION IF I DO) episodes.
(yes, I know I'm supposed to be writing Sam/Vala)
John Sheridan.
There are things that John Sheridan has filed away in his head in a box labelled 'Don't Touch'. They're little things. The way his first wife smelled (sunshine and skin and warmth, all wrapped up into one thing), the way Anna would smile that slight sideways smile at him, the way Delenn sometimes looks so unutterably sad (and she doesn't even know how short a time it will be).
John is not a man to dwell on things. He doesn't need disarray in his increasingly ordered world.
As ordered as a world can get when there are crises on top of problems on top of politics. And it's the politics he hates, of course. The under the table double-dealing that will insure that five thousand colonists on Mars eat properly. But that take just a little more of his soul into the dark. The backstabbing handshakes that sometimes leave him wondering if this was all worth it.
But he comes home at night to Delenn, sees her quiet pride and her serenity (sees her next to him, at almost every meeting, speaking her mind and making a change). And sometimes, he thinks maybe it is.
Even when he comes smack against the brick walls of bureaucracy, he thinks it might be worth it.
This is why he took Earth back, this is why he exposed the conspiracy there, this is why he led his 'crusade', as Garibaldi called it (calls it, still, but that's another thing that's locked in the box).
Dwelling on things, as he's learned before, makes him question himself. And while that seems to be a good thing, sometimes, he's not so sure it helps, in the long run.
Marcus once asked him how to ask a woman you loved out.
John doesn't remember his answer, but he remembers his regret at not tripping the man up and locking him in a room with Susan (either she'd've eaten him alive, or they would have come out with something approaching a relationship).
Watching Susan become a stranger--someone different and stronger, but not someone he can quite touch in the same ways as he did once before, is hard. Watching the station change around him, hearing the rumors and seeing the results of the countless little wars that result from those rumors--that grates.
He's doing his best to keep a system up that seems to fall apart more every day.
Sometimes, John thinks that the myth of Sisyphus was designed with him in mind.
(yes, I know I'm supposed to be writing Sam/Vala)
John Sheridan.
There are things that John Sheridan has filed away in his head in a box labelled 'Don't Touch'. They're little things. The way his first wife smelled (sunshine and skin and warmth, all wrapped up into one thing), the way Anna would smile that slight sideways smile at him, the way Delenn sometimes looks so unutterably sad (and she doesn't even know how short a time it will be).
John is not a man to dwell on things. He doesn't need disarray in his increasingly ordered world.
As ordered as a world can get when there are crises on top of problems on top of politics. And it's the politics he hates, of course. The under the table double-dealing that will insure that five thousand colonists on Mars eat properly. But that take just a little more of his soul into the dark. The backstabbing handshakes that sometimes leave him wondering if this was all worth it.
But he comes home at night to Delenn, sees her quiet pride and her serenity (sees her next to him, at almost every meeting, speaking her mind and making a change). And sometimes, he thinks maybe it is.
Even when he comes smack against the brick walls of bureaucracy, he thinks it might be worth it.
This is why he took Earth back, this is why he exposed the conspiracy there, this is why he led his 'crusade', as Garibaldi called it (calls it, still, but that's another thing that's locked in the box).
Dwelling on things, as he's learned before, makes him question himself. And while that seems to be a good thing, sometimes, he's not so sure it helps, in the long run.
Marcus once asked him how to ask a woman you loved out.
John doesn't remember his answer, but he remembers his regret at not tripping the man up and locking him in a room with Susan (either she'd've eaten him alive, or they would have come out with something approaching a relationship).
Watching Susan become a stranger--someone different and stronger, but not someone he can quite touch in the same ways as he did once before, is hard. Watching the station change around him, hearing the rumors and seeing the results of the countless little wars that result from those rumors--that grates.
He's doing his best to keep a system up that seems to fall apart more every day.
Sometimes, John thinks that the myth of Sisyphus was designed with him in mind.
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:-)