Every Word a Star

A dead letter fic. Telfer writes to Celes. My fluffy yet tragic bunny said "jump!" and I asked "how high?" I don't own Billy and Tal, and I'm not profiting because of them. Spoilers for "Good Shepherd."

Rating: PG

abbey@repunk.com

Dear Tal,

I'm dead. Please don't worry about me, though, because everything is fine, better than fine, actually. I know this is probably a shock to you, and I'm still shocked. Shocked that it was all over so quickly. So quickly. It makes me wonder why I was so worried about dying for all those years.

But when we beamed down to the planet's surface I wasn't afraid. I was thinking about what we would have for dinner, picturing the mess hall and remembering bits of our conversations there. Now, I remember the beginning of our journey when the mess hall was empty and we sat chopping vegetables. You were intent, focused on perfecting the width of the carrot slices. I remember your hair in your face as you bent over the onion, tears leaking out as you gripped the blade angrily. And then we were both crying onion tears for all the memories that would remain unfinished.

I wasn't afraid when we heard alien cries that didn't match up with sensors. It was surely something conquerable, managed with few quick words and the punching of some buttons. I gripped my phaser, and Captain Janeway called for a beam-out. The jolt was quick, and the hills in front of me disappeared. There was a great rushing all around me, and a tingling that shook all of my nerves. I was coming apart. The Doctor's voice was panicked. He hadn't seen me in months. Dark, swimming spots of light surrounded me, and the voices blurred. Hands were holding my shoulders, but I couldn't see them. The spots became larger, and I feel into a pit of white, warm peace.

You will probably wish that I hadn't gone on that away mission. I can tell you that I certainly didn't plan on dying just now. But looking back, I see those things that I could have done much better. Those years on Voyager before our mission together, I think of the time we wasted. I could have accomplished so much more. I needed to learn again that we are all larger than our fears. And we did, in the cramped cabin of the Flyer, spinning through asteroids and chunks of deep, potent space. If we had not gone on that mission, I would still be on Voyager. But I wouldn't be truly alive. And I would never have kissed you.

You remain the toughest person I know. I know what it is to bully yourself, and how hard that pain is to endure. But Tal, that strength can be spent on much worthier tasks. Like covering Harren's quarters with rolls of toilet paper, as we discovered.

I keep these memories with me now, and can think of nothing that I did not tell you. I am thankful for your listening. You listen through to the heart of every conversation, and that's a gift you can't waste. I know you sit in your quarters now, waiting to be beat into submission by the "Borg Queen." But you know that she can't beat you. Only you can.

Every word you said to me is a star in the vast sky of time and space that I fly through. I am flying, and I am not afraid, not afraid. The wonder of this existence surrounds me, as I know it will surround you. Radiant, perfect stars, all of them. There are stars where you live, and they're bright and strong. And I know you will see them. As I will see you.

Love,

Billy