She Couldn't Stay.

They gave her the once-longed for rank of Captain. They offered her Babylon 5. She took the former only to appease them. She could see the joy in their eyes in knowing she was alive, but she could also sense the shadows. Just below the surface of each person she considered a friend, there was a tiny accusation lurking. An accusation that said that he would still be here if she wasn't.

She didn't blame them for feeling that way. She understood it perfectly herself. She was as guilty as hell. And that was the crux of the reason why she couldn't stay.

Too many memories of everything. Sure, she had watched friends and family die before, it never hurt any less. But this time, this time it was different. There wasn't really anything more to fight for, because they had won. She couldn't bury herself in the work. The little struggles and quarrels would still be there, but after being part of perhaps the greatest battles in the history of the universe, she found it hard to go back to organising docking procedures. Everything had changed.

For a while, she tried to go back to it. Sitting in C&C, watching station life return to the old normality she vaguely recalled from years ago. How long had she been caught up in the fight to 'save humanity'? she found herself wondering. How long? It now seemed a lifetime.

She knew she had done the right thing to be involved. Many called her one of the most powerful figures of the war — it was a role she had filled easily, the sense of duty to both her friends and her race keeping her strong. Gradually, this overwhelming fight had become her entire life, it was who she was, Susan Ivanova, freedom fighter and bringer of the future.

She had believed she was indestructible. And that, that had been her downfall.

Yet even then, so near death, she had been at peace. Oh, she had berated herself for being so foolish, but in the end, it didn't really matter. She had been confident that Sheridan would win in the end. Heroes like him always did. She was always glad that she had been able to call him her friend, someone so special to her. They'd had some wonderful times together filled with laughter.

She would miss him perhaps most of all. He would perhaps miss her a little, yet as usual, his new position, his new married life, would sweep him away into a constant whirlwind of activity. He would always go on, fighting until the very end even if there was nothing to fight for. He couldn't stay still.

She had been like that. Once. Before it happened. Her memories of that time were always confused, a series of frightening images beginning with a burning piece of ship and ending with — with something she didn't let herself think about.

Those long, dark days. Fading in and out of reality. Listening desperately for reports on the battle yet knowing they would win. Feeling at peace within herself because, finally, the constant struggle would be over.

She was taking the easy way out, she knew that without a doubt. Part of her wanted to kick and scream and rage that her life couldn't end like this, so soon, so easily, but another part simply accepted it all as inevitable. That part of her was at peace. That part of her felt loved.

So much love, compassion, had been shown to her during those dark days. She never thought so many tears would be shed for her, yet they were. Especially him. He sat by her constantly, holding her hand, speaking to her softly, and even though her mind was nothing but a haze of grey, somehow she knew he was there. It made her smile.  It made the encroaching end easier to bear.

And then, suddenly, it had all gone horribly wrong. She had been prepared to die. She had accepted that it was her time. And then he took matters into his own hands.

He had always loved her and she had always known it, deep in her heart. But she had refused to accept the reality of his words and actions, preferring to pretend that they were nothing more than co-workers of the cause and later friends. Good friends. True friends. In those last days, there was even a moment when she had thought—

No, she couldn't continue down that path. It made the guilt even more horrible. But why had she kept him away, she wondered, why did she keep everyone far, far away? So she couldn't be hurt again, she realised. Everyone she had ever loved (except John) had been taken away from her through tragic circumstances. She would never trust her heart to anyone again.

Remembering the wise Lorien, she thought of her words to him. "My heart and I don't speak anymore." It had been so true for her then, so true for many months to come. Letting someone in was just too damn dangerous. And besides, who was she to need someone in her life? She hadn't become a Commander simply by crawling over the backs of friends within the hierarchy. She had earned her place. She had believed she was invincible.

It all came back to that. One stupid moment of glory, one little mistake of getting too cocky and standing too close. One decision that had ended in tragedy.

She couldn't believe what he had done for her. Didn't want to. For the first few days she had walked around in a stunned kind of daze, unable to comprehend that he had cared for her that much. Loved her enough to die for her.

And that was the killer. The one scene that, as much as she tried, she couldn't get out of her mind. "I love you," he'd said. Simple as that. "I love you." And that was enough to rip her heart to shreds.

She had been barely conscious when he'd said it. She knew he didn't think he could hear her, or maybe, even then, he was slipping away into that land of nothingness and realising that unless he said it then, he never would.

At the time she hadn't known what was happening. The peace that always emanated from his presence was there and for some reason, she felt more alive that day. As if his very touch was rejuvenating her.

If she had known that what she was thinking was the truth, she would have sat up (despite the pain) and pushed him away, perhaps dying in the process. And all the time she desperately wished that was the way it had happened. Anything would be better than this, the terrible, terrible guilt.

She had been so rude to him. Never giving him a chance. Constantly cutting him off and throwing his advances back in his face. Despite all of that, he had still, completely and wholly, loved her. Loved her. It was so frightening. So bewildering. She could not stop her mind screaming WHY?

Now he was gone and she would never know. Never understand what had compelled him to do such a thing, never understand the raging grief of her own heart that she kept carefully locked away even though that corner kept pounding on the door, begging to be let out in a flurry of tears.

It was yet another reason why she couldn't stay. Too many conflicting emotions, too many voices shouting in her head as she fought desperately to sort them all out. So many emotions, from rage to despair to relief that the war had been won. She couldn't handle it, not for this long, and not when every waking hour was plagued by both her own guilt and the accusations of others.

—If you weren't here then he would be....— Such a common phrase, she told it to herself, others thought it in the secret parts of their minds. Nothing would ever take that away no matter how many accolades they gave her or good wishes she received.

Delenn tried to help her. But she couldn't be helped. Wallowing in the misery was the only way of life she could accept, to face the truth and say goodbye to him (she couldn't bring herself to say his name) would mean that everything, everything that was Susan Ivanova, would crumble. She couldn't let that happen, she just wouldn't allow it.

So she left. To a life of wandering amongst the stars. Someday, someday, perhaps she would return. But that was a long time from now. She couldn't stay.

She stepped away from the viewport as Babylon 5 receded from view. Any moment, the jumpgate would be opening and take her far away. She prayed she would find the peace and the answers she sought out there.

Placing one hand over her heart, she briefly closed her eyes. He was in there, it was his life that was in her and caused her to breathe. A tear trickled down her cheek and she furiously brushed it away, determined not to cry as the station winked out of existence and was replaced by the fiery glow of hyperspace.

She was Susan Ivanova, alive and breathing. She was Susan Ivanova, dead inside. There was nothing more for her on Babylon 5. Her part in the great story was over and now was a time for mourning, for wandering through the universe until, maybe one day, she found her peace again.

She couldn't stay.