He breathed out, calming his thoughts. Complete gibberish. He was more afraid of the next few minutes of conversation than he had been at any other moment in his life.

There was still no answer, and he closed in eyes in silent thanks. Maybe she was asleep. He would not be able to tell her now, then. Good. Put it off, don't worry about it now. Maybe…. maybe it was all a mistake. Maybe everything had fixed itself while he was gone. Maybe….

"Yes?" came Delenn's voice, and he swore to himself. "Who is there?"

"It's…. me, Delenn. Commander Corwin."

"Oh." There was a pause. "Open."

He entered, and took only the briefest step into the room. He could see her there, still sitting in exactly the same position she had been in the last time he had spoken to her. How long ago had that been? Four hours? Five? Longer?

"Commander. Is there…. is there any news?"

This will break her heart, he thought. She loves him. She really, truly does love him. She's not the enemy. She's not a monster. She loves the Captain.

And I have to tell her. She was right. He's not dead, but there are worse things than death.

Faith manages. It hasn't managed very well here.

"Delenn," he said softly. "They've found him."

He is running. He is not sure why. He does not know where he is running from, or where he is running to, but he knows he is running.

Something is chasing him. He does not know what. He knows only that he must escape from it. And it is gaining on him. It is faster than he is.

There is a brief flash of light, and he sees himself standing there on the bridge of the Parmenion, feeling the force of the impact. Something is falling. He is falling. It hits his back, and there is a snapping noise. He was unconscious when this happened, he knows. Or was he awake in some sense? Why was he still alive? He had tried to die, tried and prayed that his death would be an easy one, a purposeful one. His contagion would never affect his colleagues.

Yes, he must be dead. Oh, people had survived accidents like that, but that was rare. He had tried so hard to die. Why…. why had the universe not granted him his wish?

He was still running. It was just behind him. It was so much faster than he was, but he was confident. He could escape. He had endured worse than this. He could not be defeated. He was the Starkiller, the legendary hero of humanity. Nothing could defeat him.

He suddenly stopped, and fell. He struck the ground, and instantly tried to scramble to his feet.

He could not do it.

He could not move. Not at all.

It was upon him now. He could almost see it. He could….

His eyes opened. There was no darkness. In fact, the room was quite light. There was no monster chasing him, there was only Delenn, asleep in a chair at the side of his bed. Her position looked awkward. She did not even like sleeping in a horizontal, human bed.

He tried to reach over and touch her, but he could not. In fact, he could hardly even move his head. Straining his eyes, he gazed as far down as he could, and saw the straps and restraints holding him down. There was even some sort of framework immobilising his head. That explained it. He must have been injured worse than he had thought.

Worse than he had thought? He had died, surely? He….

No, he was alive. In a strange way he was relieved. Yes, he was still a threat, both to her and to everyone else he cared for, but that was a problem for another day. He'd have more time with her. Maybe Sinoval would manage to find a cure. Anything was possible.

He couldn't feel his legs.

The realisation suddenly hit him. He couldn't feel a thing. No itching, no numbness, no sensation at all. He had countless old injuries there, old wounds that throbbed or itched. Nothing. An anaesthetic of some sort, perhaps?

He couldn't feel his arms.

He couldn't feel anything below his neck.

What had happened? He had been standing on the bridge of the Parmenion, alone. The ship was going to ram one of the Shadow vessels. He was going to die. Something…. something had exploded. He had turned, and the whole ship had shaken. He had fallen, hitting the floor, and something landed on top of him.

Something…. something had snapped.

"De…. Delenn!" he said, suddenly very afraid of what had happened. He knew he should let her sleep, but she was the only person he could see here. Perhaps the only person around. How had the battle gone anyway? Did Babylon 4 get safely back to the past?

"Delenn!"

She roused and sat up, rubbing at her eyes. Then her hands fell. "John," she whispered. "You're…. you're awake!"

She moved to his side and began touching his arms and fingers, caressing them gently. He could not feel her touch.

"Did…. did we win?"

"I…. It is hard to say…. truly. But yes…. we won."

He tried to nod, before realising he could not. He could not even sigh. His breathing was steady and regular, but quite independent of his control.

"What happened to me?" he whispered.

Tears in her eyes, she told him.

"I warned you about him. I knew he could not be trusted."

Alfred Bester sighed and leaned back in his chair. It had been a gamble, all of it. A desperate gamble, and it had failed. It had failed very badly, and that failure had quite possibly cost him everything.

"Sheridan's thrown his lot in with them now. Completely. It won't even make a difference if he's dead. His crew will follow his example. Damn him!"

He turned to look at his companion. Captain Ari Ben Zayn, an Earthforce veteran. A highly decorated soldier, survivor and leader of countless campaigns. He had always been a ground-based soldier however, and so had missed much of the action of the Minbari War. He had always been a useful friend and servant to Bester, and he had made a point of saving the man when it became clear that all was lost on Earth. Ben Zayn had been his most valued advisor, an expert on all things military, and the captain of the first of Bester's starships.

A mundane only, and that was sad. Were he but as gifted as the weakest of Bester's telepaths, he would have all the authority Bester could give him. As it was, he was kept ill-informed. He was still however the highest ranking of all Bester's mundane accomplices.

It was good that he had got away from Babylon 4 before the battle had begun. Exact news of what had happened was scarce, but early reports indicated that the devastation had been catastrophic, the death toll immense. Babylon 4 was gone. There was no word from the Great Machine. Donne was almost certainly dead. Garibaldi was either dead or had defected. A pity. Bester had actually liked him. A true shame.

A desperate gamble, and it had failed, but all was not over yet. It was true that Bester had made many enemies with that particular move, but he had other options.

He was running them through in his mind. Almost certain: G'Kar knew of his treachery, and that particular alliance was very dead. That would definitely mean Garibaldi was lost, as was everyone else who had been stationed at Babylon 4. Fortunately Donne had been the only telepath, at least the only one of his telepaths. Lyta Alexander had never really been his for a long time, not since the Vorlons had done something to her.

Probable: the United Alliance and G'Kar's Rangers knew he was not to be trusted. It was likely that they would have other concerns at present, especially if the fighting had been as bloody as reports indicated. Still, they might very well decide to come for him here at Sanctuary.