Babylon 5: Letting Go
Set in the same universe as Remembrance Day, some time further down the line. From the point of view of the same character, but not directly related to the events therein, just sharing a history.
Title: Letting Go
Genre: Babylon 5
Written: 4/22/96 (Mid-Season three, but likely going AU by this point.)
Summary: Saying goodbye.
"I'm sorry, General." The doctor in charge turned to me. The insignia on his uniform, a Greek letter psi with a caduceus inlaid over it, told me he was a mind-healer as well as a physician. "She's lapsed into a coma. Her body seems to be fighting us." My mouth was dry as I looked down at the still body of the woman who had influenced my life more than any other.
Hardly noticing his presence, I inadvertently speak the words I'm thinking. "I expect it is." The doctor's puzzled look drew a further explanation from me. "You heal broken bodies and broken minds, doctor. But I know of none who can heal broken hearts." I can tell he's still confused as I turn back to the still form on the bed, but I have no more words for him. Eventually he withdraws, leaving me alone with her.
"You can't leave me, Great-Aunt Susan. There's still so much for us to do." Even as the words leave my mouth, I know they were spoken selfishly. The woman they were spoken to had had no joy in living for more than a century and a half. Duty alone had kept her alive. Duty, and responsibility. Responsibility to the memory of her friends who had died, and the cause they gave their lives for. Responsibility to my grandmother and all her descendants, three generations of women, because she had been Great-Grandmother's friend.
But duty and responsibility are cold comfort, and harsh things to build a life around. And now she felt her job was done, that she could finally lay this burden down. I knew all of this, yet I couldn't find it in myself to let her go without asking her to stay. But, torn, I realized that it wasn't fair to ask her to stay. So I sat by her bed in silence.
*******
Hours passed, and finally I forced myself to leave her side for a moment. I needed to find a vidcom and contact my staff. My poor aide T'Larl was probably going out of her mind trying to reach me. I realized with a guilty twinge that there was a Council meeting scheduled in a few hours. I would have to call the President of the Council, tell her I wouldn't be able to make it. Probably wouldn't look good for me to miss a session, since I was only appointed to the Military Seat a few weeks ago, but right now I couldn't care less about appearances.
The doctor met me at the door. "I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but since you're listed as one of the General's next of kin I felt you should know that she left standing instructions that in the case of extended loss of consciousness we were not to use life-support of any kind...and no resuscitation is to be attempted if death should occur."
"I understand." Yes. That's how she would have wanted it. But it hurts to hear the words, to realize just how much of a burden this life has been to her. I'm even more ashamed now of my earlier pleas.
*******
I'm back at her bedside again. I wish Grandma and Mom were here, but they were both on Minbar. Grandma had some business there, and Mom went to visit some distant relatives in Great-Grandma's clan. Even if they had been able to get immediate passage on the fastest ship available, they were still days away. Days that the woman I sat beside didn't have.
At least I don't have to worry about work. President Tagani was very understanding. But, after all, they've known each other for years. Great-Aunt Susan held the Military Seat on the Council ever since it was formed. She held that Seat right up until a few weeks ago, through all the dark times and the struggle, until there was someone ready to take her place. Me.
Damnit, I'm crying again, remembering the last time we talked. It was at a joint retirement/promotion party a few mutual acquaintances had thrown for us. There had been a few grumbles about favoritism and such, but they had been surprisingly few in number. Probably partially due to the fact that I have a reputation as an excellent tactician (guess I inherited something from Great-grandfather, as well as getting my looks from Great-grandmother.)
I had come mostly as a favor to an old classmate--I loathe formal events--and I really didn't expect to see Great-Aunt there since she's even more notorious for missing such things than I am. So I was pretty surprised to see her show up at my side as the whole thing was winding down. I started to say something, but the odd look on her face caused my voice to catch in my throat, and she cut in before I could get a word out.
"Just listen to me for a minute, girl. You deserve this Seat, so don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I've taught you everything I know, everything you'll need. You're as ready for this as you'll ever be. It's up to you, now, to keep them from forgetting everything we fought and died for. Don't ever let them forget."
And with that, she was gone, as if she'd never been there. How anyone that old can move so fast I've never figured out. She just...vanished, weaving in and out of the crowd, her step lighter than I'd ever seen it, her words ringing in my ears. I swore then and there that I'd keep the charge she laid on me. I'd make sure that the Council remembered the lessons of the past. Remembered that their actions had consequences, that their freedom had been paid for in blood, and must be protected at all costs.
*******
The heart monitor's been goin' irregular for a couple minutes. There'd be no help for it, no attempts to prolong the existence of an empty shell--she'd seen to that. It wouldn't be long now. My sight's getting blurry again, tears streaming down my face, but I can't bring myself to care. I remember all the times I've seen Great-Aunt Susan. All the time I was growing up, she was always there in the background. Always alone. Even when she was in the middle of a crowd, she was alone.
Suddenly, it clicked. That had been a difference about her at the retirement party. The look in her eyes. She had still been distant, but the look in her eyes was like she was almost home.
*******
The monitor's beeps are even farther apart as I reach my hand to the still face of the woman on the bed. I brush a strand of silver hair from her closed eyes, and bend down to whisper a soft goodbye to the soul that had long since departed this mortal shell.
"Good journey, Susan Ivanova. Give my love to Great-grandfather and Great- grandmother when you see them."
The wail of a stopped heart filled the hospital room, but I'd swear that a slight smile moved her lips and I knew that she'd heard me.
FINI.
Title: Letting Go
Genre: Babylon 5
Written: 4/22/96 (Mid-Season three, but likely going AU by this point.)
Summary: Saying goodbye.
"I'm sorry, General." The doctor in charge turned to me. The insignia on his uniform, a Greek letter psi with a caduceus inlaid over it, told me he was a mind-healer as well as a physician. "She's lapsed into a coma. Her body seems to be fighting us." My mouth was dry as I looked down at the still body of the woman who had influenced my life more than any other.
Hardly noticing his presence, I inadvertently speak the words I'm thinking. "I expect it is." The doctor's puzzled look drew a further explanation from me. "You heal broken bodies and broken minds, doctor. But I know of none who can heal broken hearts." I can tell he's still confused as I turn back to the still form on the bed, but I have no more words for him. Eventually he withdraws, leaving me alone with her.
"You can't leave me, Great-Aunt Susan. There's still so much for us to do." Even as the words leave my mouth, I know they were spoken selfishly. The woman they were spoken to had had no joy in living for more than a century and a half. Duty alone had kept her alive. Duty, and responsibility. Responsibility to the memory of her friends who had died, and the cause they gave their lives for. Responsibility to my grandmother and all her descendants, three generations of women, because she had been Great-Grandmother's friend.
But duty and responsibility are cold comfort, and harsh things to build a life around. And now she felt her job was done, that she could finally lay this burden down. I knew all of this, yet I couldn't find it in myself to let her go without asking her to stay. But, torn, I realized that it wasn't fair to ask her to stay. So I sat by her bed in silence.
*******
Hours passed, and finally I forced myself to leave her side for a moment. I needed to find a vidcom and contact my staff. My poor aide T'Larl was probably going out of her mind trying to reach me. I realized with a guilty twinge that there was a Council meeting scheduled in a few hours. I would have to call the President of the Council, tell her I wouldn't be able to make it. Probably wouldn't look good for me to miss a session, since I was only appointed to the Military Seat a few weeks ago, but right now I couldn't care less about appearances.
The doctor met me at the door. "I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but since you're listed as one of the General's next of kin I felt you should know that she left standing instructions that in the case of extended loss of consciousness we were not to use life-support of any kind...and no resuscitation is to be attempted if death should occur."
"I understand." Yes. That's how she would have wanted it. But it hurts to hear the words, to realize just how much of a burden this life has been to her. I'm even more ashamed now of my earlier pleas.
*******
I'm back at her bedside again. I wish Grandma and Mom were here, but they were both on Minbar. Grandma had some business there, and Mom went to visit some distant relatives in Great-Grandma's clan. Even if they had been able to get immediate passage on the fastest ship available, they were still days away. Days that the woman I sat beside didn't have.
At least I don't have to worry about work. President Tagani was very understanding. But, after all, they've known each other for years. Great-Aunt Susan held the Military Seat on the Council ever since it was formed. She held that Seat right up until a few weeks ago, through all the dark times and the struggle, until there was someone ready to take her place. Me.
Damnit, I'm crying again, remembering the last time we talked. It was at a joint retirement/promotion party a few mutual acquaintances had thrown for us. There had been a few grumbles about favoritism and such, but they had been surprisingly few in number. Probably partially due to the fact that I have a reputation as an excellent tactician (guess I inherited something from Great-grandfather, as well as getting my looks from Great-grandmother.)
I had come mostly as a favor to an old classmate--I loathe formal events--and I really didn't expect to see Great-Aunt there since she's even more notorious for missing such things than I am. So I was pretty surprised to see her show up at my side as the whole thing was winding down. I started to say something, but the odd look on her face caused my voice to catch in my throat, and she cut in before I could get a word out.
"Just listen to me for a minute, girl. You deserve this Seat, so don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I've taught you everything I know, everything you'll need. You're as ready for this as you'll ever be. It's up to you, now, to keep them from forgetting everything we fought and died for. Don't ever let them forget."
And with that, she was gone, as if she'd never been there. How anyone that old can move so fast I've never figured out. She just...vanished, weaving in and out of the crowd, her step lighter than I'd ever seen it, her words ringing in my ears. I swore then and there that I'd keep the charge she laid on me. I'd make sure that the Council remembered the lessons of the past. Remembered that their actions had consequences, that their freedom had been paid for in blood, and must be protected at all costs.
*******
The heart monitor's been goin' irregular for a couple minutes. There'd be no help for it, no attempts to prolong the existence of an empty shell--she'd seen to that. It wouldn't be long now. My sight's getting blurry again, tears streaming down my face, but I can't bring myself to care. I remember all the times I've seen Great-Aunt Susan. All the time I was growing up, she was always there in the background. Always alone. Even when she was in the middle of a crowd, she was alone.
Suddenly, it clicked. That had been a difference about her at the retirement party. The look in her eyes. She had still been distant, but the look in her eyes was like she was almost home.
*******
The monitor's beeps are even farther apart as I reach my hand to the still face of the woman on the bed. I brush a strand of silver hair from her closed eyes, and bend down to whisper a soft goodbye to the soul that had long since departed this mortal shell.
"Good journey, Susan Ivanova. Give my love to Great-grandfather and Great- grandmother when you see them."
The wail of a stopped heart filled the hospital room, but I'd swear that a slight smile moved her lips and I knew that she'd heard me.
FINI.