Title: Prayaschitta

Author: Mistress Sarah

Summary: Prayaschitta is a personal attempt for atonement for wrongs committed against another.

Disclaimer: These are not my characters. They are owned, copyrighted and created by far wiser people than me. I have attempted to bring them back to life for a short time, attempting to ease that gaping hole in my heart where B5/Crusade once was.

Note: John Matheson; Matthew Gideon. NC-17. m/m. Angst.

Archiving: Iocane and the WWOMB archive

Series: Part 5 of 6 of the "Karma" series

Rating: NC-17

Karma 5: Prayaschitta
by Mistress Sarah

Several months later.

It was now the fifth month I was on the Dya and I was finding a rhythm and a flow to follow. It wasn't that I was suddenly welcomed with open arms by my fellow crewmembers, instead, they were becoming more comfortable with me, and I with them. Understanding their personalities, I was able to command them more efficiently.

Lu Chen wanted nothing more than to deal with the Dya's maintenance as she took personal pride in everything being ship shape and working properly. St. John had a magical touch with the computers and had earned his nickname of Warlock because he was able to adapt and modify his equipment to do things that simply weren't in the user's manual. Give him a few hours and some duct tape, and he'd solve your problem with a rather unique whimsical style that was completely and totally his own. Michael had even managed to help me with my dart throws after watching me for several hours. Yes, it was all in scientific equations, but it helped. Somewhat. Even though he had to yell, "Throw the bloody dart, boy!" when he was finished with his rather long explanation.

If you left Tamberlin to her microscopes, she was happy.

I think that the senior officers finally got around to accepting me right after Makam had made us all suffer through the "How to be an EF officer" course together. She had been furious that there had been Dya personnel involved in a brawl, and when she had found out her senior staff had been involved, she had literally metamorphisized into Kali.

Her comissioned officers who had been involved in the DarkStar brawl had been sent directly to her office after our arrival on the Dya. Softly, she had ordered our handcuffs removed, and the Dragon had... sighed. Not screamed, ranted or raved, but instead, Makam sighed. Zbignewski, Andersen, Chen, Tamberlin and a few others including myself were standing at attention, waiting for the screaming to start and the objects to be thrown. Makam didn't scream when she began walking around us, talking ever so softly about how her senior officers were... disapointments. Disapointments to family, friends and most importantly, to those dying on Earth. We had failed those people on Earth that were praying that we'd find the Cure. We were on a holy mission, and we had desecrated it with our actions. She reminded us that we were simply no longer fit to wear our Earth Force uniforms, and that perhaps a brush up course might be in order for all of us.

"Let us not forget that you have disapointed other people. You have disapointed your fellow crewmembers on the Dya, as I've cancelled all shoreleave for the remainder of our voyage. You have also disapointed so many other people. Do you have any idea who else you've disapointed? Captain Elizabeth Lochley, Captain Thuy Nyugen, Captain Ivo Lee and..." Makam stopped directly in front of me, and she continued on. "Captain Matthew Gideon."

I flinched, and she noted that she had scored on me. Her comment was a direct hit and Makam knew it. "Lt. Matheson, did you pay attention? Is there anyone else that you think your boorish behavior might have disapointed?"

"Yes, Madam. Captain Kritika Makam of the Dya." I whispered that, and she shook her head in denial.

"You didn't disapoint me. Does that surprise you?" Her voice was soft, and I knew that she was irate, meaning one false step and she'd pounce.

"Madam? It does surprise me." Whispering that softly, I saw a few officers nod their heads in agreement. Hadn't we disapointed her?

"I *disapointed* myself as I thought all of you were better than this. Having seriously misjudged my senior officers this badly, perhaps I should have retired earlier. Devi knows what other serious errors in judgement I may have made, considering I obviously put my trust.... and my respect... in the wrong people. Fortunately, one of my senior officers didn't fail me, so I have at least one bright spot in this mess. You are restricted to your quarters until I decide that you are fit to associate with the rest of my crew. Dismissed. Get out of my sight, you disgust me."

-=-=-=-=-=

I never found out exactly what she did to the enlisted personnel who were involved in the fight, but I noticed that the entire ship was rather subdued and quiet after she had "talked" to the personnel involved. O'Neill was very quiet during the month of the "penance", as Makam had made it fully obvious to one and all that Tom had especially failed to match *her* standards of conduct. Tom was a completely different person during that month, what with no dart games, no cigars and Tommy absolutely not talking to anyone unless spoken to first. St. John was now the temporary acting head of the security department and Tom was staying in his quarters at all times except for when his work schedule and Kali's classes demanded it.

For a month, her senior officers were forced to wear their dress uniforms everywhere. It was a reminder, I believe, of the standards we should have upheld, but we had failed to do so. I began to hate wearing the dress uniform by the third day, realizing that I had miserably failed my position of XO to Makam. Makam, wearing her many medals as she was wearing her dress uniform also, had made up a schedule of classes that we would be forced to take, such as etiquette, diplomacy, history, ethics, philosophy and a few other subjects besides forcing us to work additional shifts. The senior staff was required to eat together and make intelligent, pleasant and witty conversations at all times.

I had been surprised when St. John had dragged himself out of Medbay on the first day of our schooling, and had joined the senior officers for lunch. Vladi had put him on medical leave for two weeks due to a cerebral contusion he had received during the bar fight. Instead, he had pulled himself of his bed, and he was reporting for "duty." He was wearing his dress uniform also, and he looked decidedly green.

"Madam?" St. John spoke quietly. "May I join my fellow officers?"

She looked at him, and gruffly told him he should be back in Medbay.

"Perhaps, Madam. Perhaps, I should be here also with the rest of the senior staff." He had remarked, and she had nodded in agreement.

St. John sat next to me for the lunch, and he kept rubbing his head throughout the entire meal, while he turned ever more off-color. It was a rather stupid thing to do, as Michael got violently ill right after the meal ended, but it was something Matthew would have done. Matthew would have dragged himself out of Medbay because he felt an obligation to his crew and officers. Michael ended back in Medbay, while each senior officer separately protested to Kali about Michael being forced to take the course.

"Madam. He tried to stop the fight. There's no reason why he should be required to take this course." I had argued with her, and she gave me a tight grin.

"St. John is doing it for no other reason than the fact that he believes he should support his fellow officers in his matter. Michael's not doing this because of me, but only because he believes he should. Loyalty to his crew and his fellow officers. Not a bad trait for a senior officer to have, don't you agree Lt.? Besides, I haven't made these classes mandatory to any of you. I just made a suggestion that perhaps a brush up course might be appropriate as apparently many of my senior staff appear to have forgotten the basics of what being an officer in Earth Force means."

She was trying to teach me, so I acknowledged the point.

-=-=-=

I was busy between the extra work Kali had given up as penance, combined with other projects that the Dragon Lady was throwing at me to complete, so I found myself with very little free time. But the comment that the drunk Marine had said festered and grew. What if Matthew had actually said that? That voice would wake me up in the middle of the night, and I would try to convince myself that Matthew never would have said that. He wouldn't have, would he? But the look in his eyes when our eyes had met in the DarkStar haunted me as Matthew's eyes were full of rage.

As part of my penance, I even began eating regularly with Madam Makam. Eating dinner with Makam was a pleasant diversion as I had suddenly realized that she had a very keen, dry wit which fooled most of the people she dealt with. She was far from humorless, as she appreciated greatly my attempts at humor, and I had learned a great deal from working with her, including how to bend my body into the most unusual positions in yoga. When I found myself joining her for her yoga exercises, I had wanted to ask if this would help with leg cramps, but that was still a bitter moment for me, so I refrained from asking.

She was mediating, her body in an impossible position one day, and I joined her, trying to find my "ground and center" through mediation when I suddenly felt dizzy, felt a sharp shooting pain to the back of my head. "Matthew?" I whispered, before I collapsed on the floor. Makam reached for me, checked for a pulse, and I lost consciousness while she was calling for a medical team to her office.

-=-=-=-

Dya Medbay.

"Funny. I've read your damn psyche records, your social ability scores and everything else that EF has on you. Believe me, when I tell you that I been reading and rereading a veritable mountain of your personnel records since you collapsed. When the hell did you *decide* to become precognitive? It would have been nice if you told me that you suddenly developed that talent. Captain's like to know stuff like this." That was Makam who was standing next to Vladi.

"What?" I asked groggily.

"Vladi, is he stable to leave here? I need to talk to him in private."

"Sure, just don't let him overdue it. I'll check up on you later, ok?" Zhivago gave me a cheerful grin, but I could see that it was forced. What the hell had happened? Why did I feel such fear for Gideon?

-=-=-=

I had escaped for a bit, enjoying the chance to have a shore leave to myself. I was wearing my best impersonation of civilian clothes, and I was finally free from everyone! No responsibilities! No pressure! Just Matthew Gideon, out on the town, completely and utterly by himself. That when I noticed someone following me. Two or Three or Five really big someone following me so I had tried to escape from them. Dodging between the vendors and the crowds, I called for help on my comlink.

My comlink was disabled. DISABLED. That meant that someone on the Excalibur had disabled it . . . Jenn O'Keefe, my new XO. I raced through the crowds, not sure who or what I should trust, and suddenly I realized that I was at a dead end. I turned to face them, and I knew I was in trouble. SIX against One.

I fought, trying to defend myself.

Pain. Splintering pain. Like I had been clubbed. Or drugged, and dragged for miles. Actually I think I might have been. I opened my eyes, which wasn't a really bright thing to do, as everything began to spin and twirl in front of me.

-=-=-

"I better sit. I feel really, really dizzy all of a sudden." I admitted to Makam. She gave me a slight smile.

"We're almost to your quarters. Hang on, John. Hang on."

I collapsed on my couch, and suddenly I felt nauseous.

"Here drink this. This will help." I tasted flat ginger ale, and I gave her a slight smile.

"I hate flat soda" I mumbled.

"Tough." She wasn't being very sympathetic, but then she sat in the chair next to me and she sighed. "Better?"

"Yes. What's going on? Why do you want to speak to me in private?" I tried to sit up, felt dizzy again, and she shook her head, warning me not to try that move again. I certainly wasn't going to disagree with her.

"I have to be blunt. You're being reassigned to the Excalibur. We're about a week or so out from her current position, and I'm trying to break every speed limit known to the universe to get us there faster."

"I'm being TRANSFERRED? Did you have some problems with my performance?" Oh GOD! I would be back working with Gideon again. Oh no!

"Not at all. But, Excalibur is a tough bind right now, and they need you back. Realistically, you're the only possible candidate for the job of XO right now. They've been through at least sixteen of them in the last five months, and I don't think there's anyone in all of EF stupid enough to take that position. So EF has reassigned you back to the Excalibur. But if it makes you feel any better, you've been promoted to Lt. Commander, so you got an increase in your pay." She gave me a dry smile for that comment.

I got PROMOTED? WHAT? That thought whirled through my mind when suddenly I had this overwhelming sense of fear. Something had happened to Matthew, that's the only reason why I'd be able to return to the Excalibur as Matthew wouldn't ever willingly allow me back on his ship. "What's going on? What happened to Matt?" I needed to know. What had happened?

"You and Matt were pretty good friends at one time. Right?" She was avoiding the issue, and I couldn't believe that she wasn't answering my question.

"I don't know what business of yours that is." I answered her shortly. "What's going on that means I have to be transferred back to the Excalibur?"

"Let me finish. I have to ask you something. Look. Don't try to lie to me. I took the reason why you left the Excalibur at face value. Though I had my doubts why you would accept a transfer from the flag ship of the fleet to my beloved bucket of rust."

"Captain!" I protested her comments, and she ignored my protests. This was Kali, intent and fearsome, that caused lesser crew members to run and hide, and she was directing her intensity at me.

"You two were obviously pretty close there. Then you and Matt had a falling out of some sort. Right after you two were trapped in that cave-in, I believe. You know, Gideon's been telling everyone the reason you left was because of that cave-in. That you took stock of your career and decided the best thing to do was request a transfer, so you'd get back on the command track. You know, he told me that he thought he'd be a stumbling block to your career." Her voice was soft, and she was giving me a rather searching stare, waiting for my reaction to that comment.

"Captain." I sat up, and I began to protest again. She ignored me, and continued talking.

"That's a crock of shit. The XO on the ship that found the cure for the plague could write his own ticket anywhere in EF. Even if you are a TELEPATH. You two had a falling out, over what I don't know. That Marine had mentioned that supposedly you scanned Gideon. Hmm . . . I don't think you purposely scanned him. Your morals are too strong for that. Maybe you were exhausted, maybe it was because of the tight quarters that you found yourself in, that you just couldn't help but hear him."

"You would have been terrified, thinking that you'd be court martialed for it, if you ever got out of there. Were you scared that the watchers would come for you, and find out your little secret? That you could hear your captain in your mind?" She looked at me, staring at me, judging my response. Tapping her finger against her lip, she looked uncertain. My Madam Dragon uncertain? The universe would come to end, before she was ambivalent.

"If you did scan him, it was consensual. He allowed you to do it as you have too much respect for him to violate him. I'm thinking that Matthew knew you pretty damn well after all your years together. He knew how much difficulty you were having in not scanning him for whatever reason so he willingly gave you permission to lower your shields. Perhaps he even ordered you to do so? Letting your shields down, you probably could hear him clearly. So, I need to know. Did you touch Matthew Gideon's mind?"

"Captain! How could you think I'd breech protocol like that? I hope you've got something to back that ridiculous idea up to the Board of Inquisition." I was afraid, what did she know? That damn Marine in the DarkStar. St. John had been there for that part of the incident, and no doubt Makam had gotten a fully detailed report from Mike.

"Fact. You and Gideon worked together since you got out of the Academy. Fact. Gideon specifically requested you for the Excalibur mission over significant objections from the boys and girls in HQ. Fact. You have sterling recommendations from Gideon on all your evaluations. FACT. All fourteen or so of the XOs Gideon's had since you left the Excalibur have been rumored to have been given the absolute worse evaluations ever seen in the entire recorded history of the universe. One of them allegedly said that the XO couldn't sharpen a pencil without injuring himself and four other people in the process."

I kept my mouth shut, as there was nothing I wanted to say.

"FACT. When Gideon heard you were transferring here, he specifically contacted me to check me out as your new commanding officer. Grilled me rather thoroughly, I might add. He even made a few suggestions about what books I should look at to help your transition here. FACT. I've been in contact with Matt almost weekly ever since you arrived on this ship, as he's been asking for detailed reports on how you've been adjusting here. FACT. You and Gideon haven't talked to each other since you left the Excalibur, since I've just taken the liberty on checking all your incoming and outgoing correspondence. FACT. You and your former Commanding officer were both on B5 at the SAME time, in the SAME room and neither of you spoke to each other. You didn't even look at each other."

The list kept coming from her mouth, while I listened in horror. "FACT! I saw Gideon's face and yours when O'Neill repeated that comment about Gideon kicking you off the Excalibur because you scanned him. Gideon was absolutely horrified by that accusation, beneath that poker face of his, and you looked like you were just knifed in the kidneys. I don't think anyone else saw that look on your face, except for me. Not Vladi, and not Dags. FACT. The next time Gideon contacted me, in fact, the *only* time, I've heard from him since that incident, all he wanted to know was if you truly *believed* what that Marine said. The only answer I could give him was to talk to you. But he didn't, now did he? As though he truly feared knowing the answer would be *yes*."

She stopped for a moment, and spoke softly. "FACT. You just spoke Matthew's name and then collapsed, at apparently the very same time he was attacked and abducted."

I just looked at her in horror.

"HYPOTHESIS. You are a Telepath. Gideon is not. But at some time and place, you touched his mind. You can sense him, feel him and know when he's in danger. You left the Excalibur thinking it was a way to protect your Captain, didn't you?"

"N-n-no." I shook my head.

She gave me a penetrating look, and then I realized that she was thinking hard. A brief flash of a memory, Makam walking in during the middle of my session with Jones. Standing quietly behind Jones, so Jones didn't see her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Memory:

"What's this? You touched a Mundane's mind? Who was he?" Jones had asked. "How sweet. You gave him both your virginities. Your physical one and your mental one. But he didn't love you, now did he? Poor. Poor. Matheson. Who was he? You know there's not really a problem with that. Apparently, he willingly let you share everything with him. You didn't scan him; you just shared everything with him. Your body and your mind. But he didn't love you. Who was he? Why do you still defend him after he rejected you? After being cast aside and abandoned just for being what you are? Who is he?"

"MMMM . . . MMMAAAAAA . . . MAAAAAAAXXXXXXXXX" She had pulled a name from me, and I had almost failed to protect *him*.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You touched his mind, didn't you? Willingly, and with Gideon's full, informed consent. Admit it, it's not a violation, John. Not if Gideon willingly consented to it."

I nodded my head, sadly. "You are a. . . a horrible, wicked old crone. Why did you need to know that?" I whispered.

"That's CAPTAIN CRONE, to you, Lt. Commander Buttercup," she growled. Makam had looked away from me, and I could tell she was unhappy with what she had just done. But it still didn't make it any easier for me. "Because it might save Gideon's life. He's been kidnapped by a fringe element. O'Keefe, his last XO, was actually a doomsday cultist, and she helped him be abducted during a shore leave. It's obvious things went faster than she thought it would, so she couldn't destroy all the evidence before she left the ship. She's gone, the Excalibur had been trying to conduct a rescue mission but . . . it doesn't look good. HQ wants to keep this quiet, because if the news that there is Doomsday cultists in EF ever escapes, the mood on Earth will grow even more desperate. We're being sent in to do help a RECOVERY . . . NOT A RESCUE. You're being sent in to take over as XO for the Excalibur as they're too damn shell shocked to think straight right now. Plus she managed to scramble most of the on board computer system so they have little more than life support available to them right now."

"He's dead?" I whispered. My grief was almost overwhelming. It was my fault this had happened. If I hadn't left the Excalibur, this wouldn't have happened. Even if there were other Doomsday cultists on board to arrange the kidnapping, I would have been right there. I could have found his location quickly because of my gift. I would have been able to STOP it.

"Do you think he is?" she asked me quickly.

I thought about it, shook my head. Trying to sense him, I felt that our bond... was still there. Faintly, I could sense... something. "No. I think he's alive."

"Good enough for me. We're going to meet up with the Excalibur, play a few games to keep your secret as safe as possible, and then we're going to rescue him. Since Gideon was kidnapped, they haven't let a ship off the planet. He's probably still there."

=-

Pain. Darkness. My head was spinning around and around again, and I could taste the bitter after taste of drugs in my mouth. Jenn O'Keefe had betrayed me. Betrayed my crew, betrayed Earth. Damn her. And she had been the first XO I had actually liked since HE had left. She had pushed herself to learn everything about the ship, and I had . . . respected that. Too bad she was using it for her own purposes. Damn HER!

Things had gotten ugly what with my mouth. Sometimes, I just shouldn't be sarcastic especially when dealing with religiously zealous. Maybe I wouldn't be lying here, tied down. Oh, and maybe I'd be clothed too.

Rule #1 - for a POW to have no dignity or identity, one should immediately remove his clothes. After all, if a naked man escapes, it's rather noticeable. Especially when you're built like me, I remarked dryly. HUBRIS! That's how I got into this mess. If I hadn't let my damn pride get in the way with John Matheson, he'd probably still be my XO. Not that bitch O'Keefe who had apparently planned this. I thought of John strongly, and for a moment, I felt less alone. Damn it, JENN!

But she was dead. Her zealous buddies killed Jennie as they thought I had contaminated her. Certainly sucks to be Jennie, doesn't it? Well, it was certainly horrible to be ME right now.

They were an odd bunch of zealous, strange even for a fringe element. Apparently, they were going to kill me to leave a message to EF that one shouldn't fight God's will. If God wanted everyone dead, then God wanted everyone DEAD. For a brief moment, I had wanted to quip if they were absolutely 100% sure that God wanted *me* dead, but I decided against it. They just might kill me faster just so I could check that detail out. I made a mental note that if Jenn and I met up in the after life, I'd be sure to thank her personally for a fine job.

Lovely. Lovely. The job description never mentioned THIS. The savior of Humanity, yada yada yada. A fantastic career opportunity! Never mentioned the possibility of being sacrificed because your seventeenth XO in five months betrayed you to a doomsday cult.

While I was hanging around, all tied up with no particular place to go, I had plenty of time to think. My thoughts, as always, had turned to John and I had come to the startling conclusion that I loved John Matheson. LOVE. Not the wild roller coaster rides with Lochley, each of us fighting to be the one in control. No, not that. Nor was it the heady first touch of romance that made one giddy. It wasn't even the flashy, showy insecure relationship where the one partner is constantly asking for attention and security from the other. No, never Matheson. Not my stolid, dependable, self-reliant and absolutely terrified Telepath.

How lonely it must have been for you all those years, John. How devastating it must have been for you to think that I hated and blamed you for what had happened between us. But I hadn't, I had just been uncomfortable and tongue-tied when I finally realized how much you cared for me, and I had been wishing for a glib tongue so I could make things better between us with a few simple words. A few assurances, a promise or two, and things would have been corrected. The hoped for words hadn't come to mind, and so the silence had spread and grown between us, until the gap seemed unbreechable. All the days afterward, I had desperately wished that you might be the one to say something to me, as I couldn't simply find the words.

And you, thinking my silence as rejection, had fled from me to serve with an EF Captain that I feared who would break you, uncaring of you and your sterling qualities. I had kept in contact with her, wanting to make sure you were OK, until I had realized that I was only prolonging the break between us. So, I had sent one last message, hoping to give you the clean break you had deserved, and I had simply asked Kritika if you believed that damn Marine in the DarkStar. She had told me to talk to you about it. But as always, I was a coward, and I just couldn't seem to gather the courage to talk to you.

You had teased me about my relationship with Liz, hiding your own feelings, and you had always been laughing at my obvious embarassment about how much the crew really knew. Honestly, I had never really loved Liz, as it was relationship based on convenience, nothing more. Each of us getting something out of it, and neither of us wanting to take it further than that. Two lonely souls looking for some companionship and an escape from the joys of command.

I shouldn't talk to you like you're really here, John. You're not, thank God. If you had been here, I would be tearing down every stone in this temple to get you out of here, safe and sound. My dear Telepath, you don't think that I would leave you here to face this horror? I'd move heaven and earth to protect you. Believe me? Please?

Thank the Maker, you're not here.

-=-=-==-

Upon reflection, I realized that my love for John was far deeper than that what Lochley and I had shared, as our relationship had been built over a period of time. Brick by brick, shy smile by shy smile, it had taken over a long forgotten abandoned part of my heart, and I had ignored it, concentrating on other things. Filled with a need for vengeance for the crew of the Cerebus, and looking for the Cure to the Plague, I had turned my heart to stone. Even with my neglect and my barren heart, our love had still bloomed thanks to John's gentle wit, his compassion and his absolutely lousy cups of coffee.

God, I never met anyone who couldn't make a cup of coffee until I met Matheson. All these years, I had been grateful for the times we had talked, even while I sipped at his bitter coffee, knowing full well that I would later "pay" for drinking it. How I had loved it when he had softly mocked me out of my foul moods or when he chided me to get a haircut, and especially for the times he knew enough to be silent and let me vent my anger and frustration. John had loved me, and had silently offered me what he knew I needed most, his friendship and his emotional support.

All those years, all John had secretly wanted was for me to acknowledge him and accept his feelings toward me. John hadn't even dared hope that the feelings might be reciprocated. Behind his facade of a self-reliant EF officer, lurked a young man who had been absolutely terrified of being rejected by the man he trusted, respected and loved.

And he had thought I had rejected him, spurned him when I just couldn't find the words to speak with him about what I had done. So, John had fled from me, trying to avoid ever again having to see the man that he loved. Dear God, I didn't mean to hurt him. Why didn't I try harder to talk to him? I was so damn blind. And he was ashamed of me, horrified by the darkness in the soul of the man he thought he loved.

John had given me everything, his trust, his soul and his virginity. Being so caught up with other things that I hadn't realized the value of what he was giving me, so I had squandered those precious gifts recklessly. Such a fool, I cursed myself, over and over again. Taking John's valuable gifts, given to me freely, I had corrupted and destroyed them due to my very nature. Forgive me, John, for I never knew. There are none so blind, as those who will not see are, and I had refused to see what was in front of me.

They were drugging me again, trying to get some sort of information from me. I don't know what it was . . . but they're NOT getting it! Even if it's merely the recipe for Auntie Bessie's pineapple turnover cake. NEVER! Ha ha! I'm taking it to my grave. Yeah. Right.

My mood suddenly darkened, and I suddenly begged for absolution from the man that I had wounded. Before I died, I needed John's forgiveness, as my guilt would continue to haunt me for an eternity. "Forgive me, John, for I cannot forgive myself."

Forgiveness was not to be found for one such as myself, and the pain started anew. Dizzily, I suddenly realized that I really needed a haircut. I don't think I had gotten one since John had fled.

-=-=-=--

Excalibur.

She strode onto the Excalibur, looking like Kali incarnate, and I was walking quickly next to her, acknowledging the grateful looks of the Excalibur crew. Dryly, I wondered if they were so happy to see me because I was back, or because I was a friendlier looking face than the Dragon Lady. Vladi, Dags and O'Neill were behind her, as they were going to be part of the rescue team. A RESCUE . . . not recovery. We were going to rescue Gideon, not recover his body.

"As per EF orders, Lt. Commander Matheson is taking temporary control of the Excalibur as he is the only person in EF currently familiar enough with the Excalibur to handle this situation. You are to assist him in any way possible, have I made myself clear?" Makam announced that on the ship's PA system.

That done, she turned to me, and spoke loudly. Far louder than normal for her, as though she was trying to make sure everyone heard her. "Lt. Commander Matheson. Do you possess any psychometry skills? Do you think that if you focused on Gideon you might be able to help place him?"

"I... haven't tried that, Captain. But I'll go to his quarters, and his office and try to find something that might help me focus. Crystal is best, metal second . . . "

"Very well. Lay on, McDuff."

-=-=-=-=-

She sat in Gideon's quarters, and she kept her mouth shut. I tried to concentrate, tried to find something that focused my powers on him. Grasping, straining, I couldn't find it. I was growing ever more frustrated, rummaging through his stuff, and finally Makam snapped at me. "You're doing this wrong."

"Funny, I don't remember you suddenly developing psychic ability." I growled that at her, and then sighed. I was obviously exhausted if I was getting nasty with Madame Dragon.

"Before you came on board, I did a lot of reading."

"Madam! A lot of reading a Telepath does not make!" I assured her.

She continued, ignoring my comments. "I read some things, some of which Gideon had recommended to me, and what a few others had recommended. Sit on the floor, John. Clear your mind. Use your third eye, Matheson, to focus on Matthew. What is your strongest memory of him?" As always, she ignored sarcasm directed at her. Such an odd woman, what would have happened if she had been my commanding officer for my entire career? How would things have been different? Or was I doomed to make the same mistakes over and over again. My karma, my Dharma, my doom.

Would I have fallen for her also, as she only the second person I had ever met that treated me no differently from a Mundane officer under her command? As it was, sometimes I felt that I was under her terrible thrall, just like St. John was, as was O'Neill and the rest. If she had been my first commanding officer, would I be now wearing a Dragon somewhere on my body? Even Vladi wore his Russian dragon proudly for her, but Gideon's invisible mark was still on my heart and soul, long after his physical marking of my shoulder had been healed. Even after all this time, he was still MY captain, and I regretted that I couldn't offer Makam the same loyalty and devotion that I had given my Gideon. But Makam had never asked for it, as though accepting the fact that it simply wasn't mine to give to her.

I sat on the floor, crossed my legs ruefully. "These jumpsuits aren't made for Yoga."

"Strip then. It's nothing I haven't seen before" she remarked dryly. "In various shapes, colors and sizes."

"I'll pass on remarking on that comment."

"Modest, aren't we?" she quipped.

I laughed at her, and she gave me a tight grin. Closing my eyes, I thought of Matthew. Various images appeared in my mind . . . Leather Jacket. Lochley. Sunglasses. Skimmer. Yelling at Eilerson. Meetings in his office. When his hair got too long, I'd have to remind him to get a haircut. The way he always played chess with himself. Single. Solitary. Alone. For a moment, I lingered on that thought.

Chess. Players. King. Rook. Knight. Sword. Excalibur.

YES!

When I "returned" a significant amount of time had passed, and the Old Lady was looking at me in concern. "You were gone for a while there, I was getting worried."

"His chess set. He always plays chess with himself. As far as I know of, he's never let anyone ever play a game against him. Where is it? He's moved it since I was last here."

"In the kitchen."

I picked up a "black" knight. Metal. Good conduction points. The "white" side was made of . . . YES! Crystal. I quickly grabbed several pieces from the white side. King Gideon. Deliberate. Methodical. EF- slow moving. Slow to react. Queen- Makam, dangerous and unpredictable. Earth- dying from the plague. Knight. Matheson. Chambers. Both of us constantly going in dangerous situations because of the King and Queen. Bishop- GALEN. Mystic. Sliding through space and time for his own reasons. I thought also of Warlock and his occult knowledge of computers. Rook- Dureena. Looking for home, a place to belong after her people were destroyed. But what was EILERSON? Hiding behind thick walls so no one could ever hurt him. Hiding his heart behind . . . a fortress. Eilerson . . . I made him a rook too. I grabbed a pawn for all those who were pawns in our fight for the cure, Trace, O'Neill, Dags . . .

I held them tightly in my hands, concentrated on them strongly . . . and I felt him.

=-=-

"J-j-john?" I whispered in a voice that I didn't recognize as my own. "J-john?" Why did I suddenly feel as though he was nearby? But it couldn't be he, as he had fled from my darkness.

==-=

"He's alive. Someplace dark. They're going to kill him. As a warning to EF," I whispered. So much sorrow and regret. Why did Matthew grieve like that? Oh dear God, my fault. Completely, and totally.

=-=

I was feeling disorientated, and I couldn't remember what the hell I was doing here. Then they threw someone in the darkness with me. I could . . . see . . . someone. Battered face. Oriental. Young. Military uniform. WAIT- he shouldn't be here. He wasn't here. What was he doing here? Was he here? Was that why I had felt him so strongly a few minutes ago. Oh God, NO!

"JOHN?" I whispered.

He nodded. Terrified. He was TERRIFIED. This was wrong. John wasn't here! JOHN WASN'T HERE. He was on some cruiser with . . . Vishnu? Kali? Devi? What was that captain's name? I couldn't remember. How that frightened me that I couldn't remember her name. We had talked numerous times, so I knew I should know what her name was. What was it? She was short and acidic, but I knew she cared deeply for her crew and would take good care of John for me. Perhaps she would be the one able to heal the wound in his soul that I had caused. I had been worried with the way she had treated John, but I finally accepted it, as she was trying to rid John of my corruption as though she was a blacksmith smelting raw metal ore. She would burn off the impurities, hammering away at the molten metal, and making John stronger in the process. But why was he HERE?

"Help me. Please." I whispered. "Untie me. Please."

He touched me, and then I felt him enter my mind. Pain. Such Pain. John . . . was raping my mind. NO. NOT JOHN! NOT JOHN!!! It wasn't Matheson, so I tried to prevent him from touching my soul. "NO!" I screamed at him, while he continued to delve, to dig, and to search for something. Singing children's songs, trying to remember what I had learned to defend myself against a deep scan, I tried to deny him access to my mind, but I had no defense against him.

The one time John had touched my mind, he had been gentle and tender as he had been so very terrified of the man he loved. But this Teep was stronger than John was, so he took everything from me. Taking what they wanted from me, he also managed to take my pride, my dignity and my self-esteem. But they didn't take my anger away from me. Burning brightly, it would keep me alive for the next few weeks.

=

When I woke up after a sleep full of nightmares where I destroyed John over and over again, my throat was dry and I was cold. There were a few young women in the room, probably the youngest was seventeen or so, and the oldest was in her early twenties. Dressed in white, they gave me such a feeling of absolute terror that I was stunned by how strongly I felt it. Was it the look in their eyes?

"We should begin the ceremony of purity" whispered one of the younger girls.

"No. We should have some fun first. We have several hours to complete the ceremony of purity, but . . . first things first. Have you ever seen a naked man before?" She was the oldest, and by far the cruelest. I could see that much in her ice blue eyes. She gently touched my stomach, and I tried to remain calm.

[OH GOD NO!!!!!!!!] My skin crawled from her touch, and I found myself trying to crawl into a ball to protect myself. It was an useless attempt as I was still tied down, spread eagle on the table, but my vain struggle appeared to amuse her.

"No." That rather shy admission from the youngest, earned giggles from the rest of the crowd.

"Then you should look upon him and see." She said that in the exact tone of voice that the head Zealot used earlier with me, telling me to look upon the face of God and see his displeasure with my actions. Why did zealots always make God male? I'd have to ask God when I met up with Him or Her. It?

More giggles.

"Is this...?" The voice paused, and I saw it was a young red head that had placed her hands on my hips, and I knew what was going to happen. [Oh GOD. NO.] My breathing increased due to my fear, and I was terrified to realize that one of the women was stroking my chest as though trying to soothe a wild animal.

"Yes." More laughter. "Go ahead. You can touch it. He'll enjoy it."

The redhead obviously didn't want to do that, so the eldest came over and did more than touch. I tried to remain aloof, and not respond to what she was doing to me as she began to give me a hand job. Suddenly a damn broke, and I felt more hands on me. This would have been a dream come true for Eilerson, to have eight "Vestal Virgins" exploring him, but not for me.

Their hands were everywhere, especially on my scrotum, nipples and my penis. Exploring and commenting on the differences between male and female with happy little laughs. While they examined, and commented, I closed my eyes, and begged for help. But Mother Nature had other ideas. Apparently that response was an automatic reaction as I assuredly wasn't looking forward to this nor was I enjoying it. I decompartimentalized myself, trying to remove myself from what was going on. It was an act, nothing more. I wasn't enjoying this; I wasn't participating in this. Someone else's body was having this done to him. Someone else was responding to their hands. NOT I.

"What's happening?" that was the hushed voice of one of them.

"He's getting aroused. That's how they make babies."

"Really?" I heard giggling again, and I knew my face was scarlet. Trying to leave my body behind, I day dreamed that I was in the Excalibur, in the bullet car. This was my karma, my doom. As I had injured John, so was I to be harmed. Asad...harana Prayasch...itta? Was that what it was called? When John had transferred to the Dya, I had thoroughly researched his new Captain and her Hindu background, wanting to understand his new Captain and her strong personality. I had found myself fascinated by her cultural background, and I had spent many hours reading on to satisfy my curiosity about Makam. Asadharana Prayaschitta was extraordinary penance, in which the person willing submits to numerous horrors to try and atone for his crimes of action and desire. As the wheel of life turned, I would find myself reborn, with the stain of my crime against John weighing against my soul. Perhaps by submitting to these bitches, I could at last wipe the stain of my crime from my heart. Maybe... I could wipe the stain off my heart, as I just knew I wasn't getting out here alive.

"REALLY." More giggles.

The purity ritual was forgotten as the young women started to play harder with their captive toy. A few tried to kiss me, and I found myself trying to remain unresponsive, while still they continued to play with me. It was inevitable that I would ejaculate after all their hands on work. But a few had missed THAT, so they decided that I needed to repeat that trick. Again and Again and Again. While I allowed my body to react, but kept my soul and mind completely out of it. Ignoring their giggles, ignoring their touches, I was not here. This was not happening to me. Not MATTHEW GIDEON, CAPTAIN. Not I. NO! Damn it. Submit, Matt. SUBMIT.

And so it continued until I was just too sore for them to touch me without pain. But they continued trying for some time. At last, they gave up in disgust, as their new toy was apparently broken. A few of the young ladies kissed me before they left and I remained a galaxy away from them. For a brief moment, I had looked into the eyes of the young red head, and realized that she was terrified also. She leaned over, kissed me softly and I "responded" emotionally, feeling pity for her obvious terror.

Then she traced my beard with her fingers as though debating what she should do. "Red" bit her lip, looked quickly about to make sure that everyone had left the room, and then she offered me something to drink. It was lukewarm, and metallic tasting, but still I blessed her. Foolish me, for my blessings were worthless.

=-=-=-=-=

Excalibur-

I was sitting in Gideon's chair, and I was listening to the reports from both crews regarding our attempts at rescuing Gideon. Galen wasn't on ship, and I found myself regretting that for two reasons. One was that his assistance would have been invaluable, especially with figuring out what exactly the hell O'Keefe had done to the scanners, and secondly, St. John would have been absolutely speechless to meet a legendary Technomage. I think I would have preferred him speechless, rather than listening to him loudly cursing in Sanskrit, Gaelic and a few other languages over the damage that had been done to the scanners. There had been a rather spectacular display of fireworks at one point, which had put our weapons array offline for an hour.

I tried to be reassuring to my crew, displaying a serene faith in the rather unorthodox fellow who was rewiring my ship. He had slammed his hand hard on one of the panels, managing to startle the majority of Excalibur bridge crew who obviously had serious doubts about his ability. But the panel had suddenly lit up, and began working after Mike had hit it and cursed at it. "Got to show those damn electrons who's boss." He growled that while Chen laughed softly. Lu and Dags were assisting him, but he was the one splicing and dicing wires wildly, trying to get the scanners working.

"Having problems, Lt. St. John?" The Dragon asked that dryly while Michael was back to literally growling at the equipment.

"Damn it, she knew that they'd start looking for him, so she destroyed the scanners. I'm having to rebuild them from scratch right now, and I'm not that familiar with all the technology that was used to create the Excalibur." St. John had looked at the atmospheric readings of the planet, mumbled something about the Dya's scanners being too obsolete to deal with the ionic concentration of the atmosphere and had gone directly to work on fixing the Excalibur's equipment. He was right, but I couldn't help but think that St. John was having the time of his life playing with the up-to-date equipment on the Excalibur. I knew Dags and Lu were busy commenting on the equipment, and the two women were planning upgrades on the Dya.

"Do your best, Michael" I had told him.

"Don't I always?" he remarked dryly to Andersen who gave him a reassuring pat on his shoulder. I pretended to ignore his comment, and I called on O'Neill for a report.

"Lt. Commander Matheson, Dr. Eilerson and I were going over the planet's history. The original inhabitants of this world have long since died out, but apparently IPX had been here before it became this tourist trap." O'Neill looked at Eilerson, and motioned for him to continue.

"Yes, the Sgt. Major is quite correct. They had a colorful history, including... sacrifice. Based on what we know about the original inhabitants, their sacrifices were intended to appease their Gods, and they were held... here." He pointed at the map of the world to a particularly remote spot. "Interesting, they just apparently left them to die, as the priest never killed them. It was the gods' will that determined if the sacrifices lived or died."

"He's probably being held captive there, Sir. Magnify!" Sgt. O'Neill commanded, and he continued with his briefing. "This is the supposedly the holiest spot on the planet, and I'm betting that these..." for a moment, I knew O'Neill was going to curse, and then he thought better of it. That would make Makam look bad, so he wouldn't ever do that. Not after the brawl in B5. "Zealots are there."

"I'm getting something there. Humanoids, a group of them, can't define it further, but we've got life forms there." That was St. John who had managed to coax something from the scanners.

"God. That's a climb." One stairway, 300 steps going up, and down. Everything else was a straight drop to the ground below. "There's no way we can get a skimmer near it?"

"No. It's not stable enough to land a skimmer on it. And if he's injured, we'll have to do a rope rescue." O'Neill's eyes sparkled and I mentally groaned. Damn O'Neill and his rope rescues. Vladi had convinced me to attend a practice or two of the Tom's practices for the rope rescue teams, and I had found myself being volunteered into becoming a member of their team. Madam Makam had thought it a simply *wondrous* idea. "So. I'm suggesting Dr. Zbignewski, Dags, St. John and myself for this, besides the regular team. Anyone from the Excalibur does you think could handle this type of rescue?"

"Leave me out of it" mumbled Eilerson.

"Dureena. Definitely Dureena. I'm going, of course." I mentioned a few other people, including Sarah Chambers. If Gideon was injured, I wanted Sarah... and Vladi there.

=-=-=-=-=

The women came back occasionally to play. My body reacted, while I remained quiet and still. Originally, I had tried my damnest not to let my body react, to remain secure in my emotional cocoon that I had constructed around my soul and my mind, but that had gotten them angry. After a few painful lessons conducted by the head bitch, I let them do whatever the hell they wanted to me. Give them what they wanted, and hopefully they'd leave. Not her. She was a terror, and she would often delight in hurting me. If I took too long to respond, or if I responded too quickly, she would punish me. Physically, mentally and verbally, she delighted in injuring me.

"You deserve this. You realize that don't you?" She asked me that sweetly, while I tried not to scream in terror. "Answer me. You deserve this, don't you?"

"Yes. I do." I'd answer her before she'd hurt me again. I hated this, especially when I realized that I was looking forward to them showing up. Least when they were hurting me, I wasn't alone anymore. Oh God, had I sunk that far?

When I felt her weight settle around my hips, I wanted to scream in fear and disgust, but I remained mute, not wanting to allow her any type of satisfaction. How my skin crawled when she impaled herself on my dick, especially when she rode me to climax. She was obviously finding dominating and hurting an Earth Force Captain a real turnon. I was glad I had my implants current, as I'd hate to sire a child on that bitch. Or on the other four that enjoyed me as a source of amusement.

Physically and mentally what they did to me amounted to nothing more than rape, while I wondered if I'd ever feel 'clean' again.

Had he felt like that? Did he still feel dirty from my touch? Did he bitterly regret what had occurred between us? Yes. I'm sure he did, why else would he have fled? Those thoughts drove my nightmares, which filled my broken sleep.

Inside, I was trying to remember things, such as who was commanding the Excalibur right now. Had they notified my next of kin? Did I even have one? Had I mentioned to Maintenance to do preventive maintenance on my Starfury? How many days had I been held? I couldn't remember. I couldn't REMEMBER. All I knew is the minute I saw her face, I was terrified, like a little boy, wanting to run and hide from the Big Bad Monsters.

"Red" was back frequently. She gave me water to drink, and fed me small bits of food, while she looked frequently afraid for me. It was horrible, as I started looking forward to her arrival also. She was one of my captives, but... that still didn't make me stop hoping that when I heard the cell door opening, it would be her. In my mind, I called her "Julia" as she reminded me of a Julia I had once known. Humanizing her, empathizing with her, she would become my greatest weak point in my captivity. I knew that, and still it didn't stop me from feeling for her.

I knew they were using her to get to me, but still, after my days of never ending torture mixed with hours upon hours of solitude, I'd kiss her fingers softly when she was done feeding me, as a way of thanking her. Warning her not to do this with my eyes, she ignored my pleas. Then "Julia" got "caught." They had set her up. I knew it, and still I was *furious*.

It was the head zealot, and he hit her hard. She crumpled to the floor and I heard her cries of pain. I started raging at him, screaming at him, cursing at him, and demanding that he take it out on me, not her.

"Not to worry. I'll make sure both of you pay for this ... blasphemy."

-=-=-=-=-

"Prepare him!" That was the head zealot whom I nicknamed "Bob." He was crazier than a mad hatter was, and I really wanted to kill him. Slowly. Especially after he had hit "Julia".

By now, I was dreadfully thirsty and my chest hurt like blazes. They had decided to brand their logo on my chest a few days ago, and the pain was still rather intense. Not as bad as when they first burned me. Now it just hurt occasionally, like when I tried to inhale and exhale. Other than that, I felt FINE! Apparently my little zealot friends weren't very original, as they had decided to crucify me. They took great joy pinning my EF insignia pins into my chest and shoulders, and I realized that dear Ole DEAD Jennie had given them my insignia. I remembered leaving them on the Excalibur before I had left for my final shore leave.

They forced my class ring on my shattered ring finger, and I realized that it was probably a good idea that they had done so. Providing positive ID for my body was rather thoughtful of them, as I wasn't going to be able to answer that question. I tried to ignore the throbbing ache of my hand, but I was unsuccessful until more pain overwhelmed me. Crowning me with a crown of six-inch thorns, they proceeded to hang me from a circle of some sort, using metal nails to pin my hands and feet against the metal of the circle. Soon I was bleeding freely from numerous spots.

I tried to hide from the pain, allowing my mind to wander away from the physical realm. It didn't work one God damn bit, but I still tried to keep quiet. Like hell, I'd let them see me wince in pain, and I certainly wasn't going to ask for forgiveness for them as they definitely knew what they were doing. Forgive Julia, I begged silently to whatever deity might be listening. She who was another innocent destroyed by me.

As John had suffered after what I had done to him, so must I. My pain must equal his so that one day I may be forgiven for what I had done. Growing feverish, I began thinking odd thoughts, about life, death, religion, JOHN. Perhaps I'd die, and our souls would be reincarnated together at a later time. Perhaps next time, I wouldn't mess everything up so damn well? If I willingly accepted the penance now, perhaps next time I wouldn't hurt my lonely Telepath again? These thoughts whirled through my mind when the zealots decided to leave me there. Alone. Hanging.

What? Weren't they going to watch me die? Gloat? Twirl their moustache dramatically while the hero died? While there was a fade out and some unseen announcer intoned "Tune in Tomorrow for the Continuing Episodes of Captain Gideon and his sidekick, The Boy Teep." Oh I forgot. The Boy Teep got his own spin off show. Didn't he? I think he did. I couldn't remember anymore.

Nope, they were definitely leaving, as playtime was over, they're just going to leave me hanging here. Naked. Couldn't you at least cover part of me? The hours passed slowly as I grew ever more feverish and I started having delusions. SHE showed up, to wound and rape me again, while I was helpless and immobile on the circle, but her way was blocked by a young Oriental wearing an EF uniform with a Psi badge. No matter how many of the specters showed up to harm me, that lone figure defended me.

He stood by me, prepared to defend me, especially when the four other women appeared. I screamed in unearthly terror while they smiled at me, promising me more pain. But his appearance managed to scare them off. That was John; always... protecting me.

Zealously.

Devotedly.

"Why?" I would whisper at the still figure. After hurting him so badly, why was he the one that defended me from harm?

[Because I love you.]

"Why?" My voice cracked, and I realized that my throat was parched. "How could you? After all that I've done to you? Why?"

[Simply, because I do, Matthew.]

And I wept.

=-=-=-=-=-=-

"I don't want you coming back with any medals," Makam had warned me, thoroughly, before I had started off on the rescue. I had been puzzled by that comment until Tommy had explained that for Makam, coming back from an away team with medals meant that someone had died on the mission. No wonder then that Makam never wore her medals then except when she was required to do so. That much death could wear a soul down.

"John. It's good to have you back. We've missed you." Dureena gave me a quick smile, and I sadly smiled back at her. "But you've grown since you left Gideon. So it was the right thing to do. But we're glad you're back with us now. Especially now. How is he?" The teams from the Dyavaprthivi and the Excalibur had both apparently accepted the fact that I could sense Gideon's aura while I was in the Excalibur without a qualm. If any of them had been more familar with the Telepathic ratings system, they would have realized that the only way a P6 could sense a Mundane's aura from that distance was if the two people had touched minds previously. But Makam and I certainly weren't going to mention that tidbit of information.

"He's in a great deal of pain." I whispered at her. His pain was hammering at me and I had to be careful where I placed my feet on the steep staircase. Damn it, the original inhabitants had to have the steps one and half feet high didn't they? How the hell did they drag Gideon up here? "But I feel better that Makam was able to talk to a few of the prisoners after they were captured so they confirmed where he is."

Makam had told me that one of the young women, a red head, had spilled her guts the minute Makam had singled her out from the crowd of captives and Makam had given her the Evil Eye. She warned me that Gideon was in bad shape, and even might be dead by the time we got to him. Looking up, I cursed the overcast skies. A chopper would have made this so much easier! But no, it was windy and overcast so the choppers wouldn't launch.

"Forty-one, forty-two, forty-three." Vladi said cheerfully to O'Neill who was growling in disgust at him.

"Doctor. If you're going to insist on counting each step we've climbed, I may end up pushing you down the bloody things myself." When O'Neill was annoyed and angry, he turned thoroughly Irish, and now the brogue had shown up.

"OK. Two hundred fifty-six, two hundred fifty-five..." chimed in Dags.

=-=-=-=-

I was awake again, alone with the darkness, the ever-present pain and my thoughts. If I had only been brave enough to ask John to forgive me for hurting him, if I had apologized for I had done to him. If I had been man enough to say those little words, "I am so sorry for this. I should have known better. Please, please forgive me", John probably would have forgiven me. Maybe, he would still have remained on the Excalibur while we figured out this new relationship between the two of us. It certainly would have been better than the mistake I had compounded by ignoring what had happened between the two of us. I had been so angry with myself... and I suddenly realized that John must have sensed my rage. Empathy and Telepathy don't always go hand in hand, but John was by far the most empathic person I knew. He... hadn't felt my anger and thought that it was... directed toward him, did he? John... hadn't fled, thinking that I... furious with him? My God, John, I am so sorry.

He had picked up all the little things I had done for him over the years, and he had remembered them. While they were nothing out of the ordinary to me, John had remembered and cherished them. So, he easily could have picked up a thousand or so little things that had convinced him that I hated him. I didn't hate him. NEVER.

It's easier not to want forgiveness or to expect it. We just keep trying to fix the mistake so we don't have to ask. But you end up trying so hard to atone for one set of mistakes that you over compensate and make new ones. And then you can never break out of the cycle. You just keep going around and around. No way out and no where to go.

I was trapped in the wheel of life, spinning wildly, trying to earn a forgiveness that I hadn't ever asked for from the man I had wounded. Thinking I couldn't ask him for his forgiveness, I had to tried to earn it, to buy it with my soul. By my desire to earn his forgiveness, I had ended up making more and more mistakes, and hurting more and more people like those poor damn XOs who I had destroyed merely for the crime of not being John Matheson. People like Natalie, Chris, Jason, Nicholas, Fiona and the others. More and more karma weighing down my soul which I needed to resolve before I could break free of the cycle of life. Stupid, Matt. Stupid. There was only one thing left to do before I died. A final checkmark on my long list of mistakes. Bite the bullet, Matt.

"John?" I whispered in the darkness. "Are you there? Have you decided to forgive me at last? Please?" For a moment, I thought he was standing there, sorrow in his dark eyes, and I remembered another time when I saw that look of despair in his eyes. After I had rejected him, cast him aside when he admitted that he loved someone as fundamentally flawed and damaged as myself. My fault. Completely. "Don't cry, John. Don't. Please. I beg of you. Don't. Never wanted to hurt you. Never. Believe me. I'm... so... sorry. I was never angry at you. Only angry with myself. Please.... John...Forgive me?"

=-

"Careful about steps one hundred twenty five through one hundred twenty eight!" called down Dureena. Apparently, everyone was now counting the steps just to annoy the Terrier. Gamely, he was trying to ignore the counting, but I could tell that he was getting a little irked. I was too, but that minor irritation was thankfully replacing the "THIS IS MY FAULT" mantra that I had been mentally chanting for the entire climb.

"What's the problem?" I asked.

"They're not there!"

"Shit!" snarled O'Neill.

-=-=-=-=-=

"Forgive me?" I whispered to the hallucination in front of me. While I forgot everything else that had at one time mattered to me, I still held onto the thought that I needed to be forgiven for something I had done. I had hurt someone... someone I cared about. JOHN. His name was JOHN.

The ghostly figure had decided to console me, and he kissed me gently on my forehead, somehow avoiding the damn thorns that pierced my skin. He offered me absolution from my crimes, and I took it gratefully, wishing that now, having obtained his forgiveness, that the emotional and physical pain might now be allowed to finally end.

"Matthew" he whispered at me. "Don't be afraid. I'm here with you. I've always been here."

"It's going to be soon, John. I can feel it. Can't take much more of this?" I coughed, which turned into a long gurgling cough, and I suddenly realized that they had probably broken a few of my ribs somewhere during this misadventure. The broken ribs had probably just punctured a lung and I tasted blood on my lips. I was coughing up blood now, which wasn't a good sign. Or maybe it was, as it meant that the end was getting closer... and closer. "Can't... breathe?"

"Hold on. We're here. On step two hundred and sixty-two in fact."

I mentally laughed, and I realized that he knew that I didn't believe him. But it didn't matter; after all, he was merely a figment of my imagination. Even though I knew him to the product of my feverish imagination, and not John, I held onto his forgiveness tightly, trying to use it as a shield. He had forgiven me and now I could stop fighting. Now I could submit and accept what I saw looming at me. My death.

-=-=-=-=

Focusing on the steps, I suddenly realized that I couldn't seem to catch my breath. I had to stop for a moment, which earned me a concerned look from Sarah Chambers.

"What?" she whispered. She began waving one of her scanners at me, which I pushed out of my face with a growl.

"Matt can't breathe. Pain's too intense. What I'm getting from him is that he's afraid, Sarah. I think he believes that he's going to die."

"Can you tell him that the calvary's coming?" She asked me quickly.

"I have...but he doesn't think it's real. He thinks he's having hallucinations."

"Assure him that three hundred Goddamn steps are not a hallucination. Won't you?" That was Vladi who was looking the worse for wear. He had carried a significant amount of medical equipment up with him, and he was weary.

"Come on! Thirty-four more to go!" called Dureena.

"Doctor Zhivago!" I was startled, as the voice sounded like a male version of Makam, complete with tonal inflections. "You better get up these steps as I am not going to carry your sorry ass up these steps just because you are simply far too big for your own good. Though if I need to, for the good of the mission, I will singlehandedly drag your large body up the remaining steps by your boots, making sure that I hit your rather large head on each and every step. After I remove your helmet, of course." St. John then flashed me a wicked smile, and I realized that the crew of the Dya was laughing slightly at Mike's impersonation of Makam. It was dead on accurate.

"Yes, Madam!" Vladi responded automatically, and the group from the Dya starting laughing harder.

=-=-=-=-=--=-=

"Matthew? Hold on. We're almost here."

It was "John" again, letting me know that I wasn't going to die alone. "John? Need to let you know? Something." I was trying not to gasp for breath, but it was getting harder and harder to breathe.

"Shh... Don't say anything. Save your strength." His voice was gentle and soft, like it always was.

"Listen... Love. You... Sorry... never said. Realized... after you... left. Forgive . . . me? Please? Before I die, forgive me? Please?" The effort to speak those words exhausted me, and I was panting from the exertion.

"Shh . . . Shh . . . it's all right, Matthew."

"Forgive me?" Plaintively, I had to beg again for his forgiveness. Needed to make sure...

"There's nothing to forgive." He kept repeating that over and over to me which upset me more. There was so much to forgive that I didn't even think it was possible for him to ever do so.

"There is. DYING... NEED... YOU... TO... FORGIVE... ME!" I screamed that at him, with all my failing strength, ignoring the pain in my side. Vainly hoping that he'd at last understand the pain I had self-inflicted on myself as penance for what I had done to him. Perhaps, after understanding that I had willingly matched his pain... he'd forgive me? John, my lonely Telepath, how I hated myself for what I had done to you.

[Matt. Please.] His voice was soft in my mind, and I could tell I had upset him with my self hate. Unintentionally, I had wounded him again, as I was growing ever more agitated, begging him to shrive me before I died. I needed to make absolutely one hundred percent sure that John had forgiven me, and I repeated my request again. He finally did, softly, while I quietly wept from the pain and relief.

"Thank... you... Thank... you." I kept whispering that over and over again to the still figure in front of me. Lord, I wanted to look at his eyes, to see if he had truly forgiven me, but the one look I had managed to get had scared me anew. His eyes were full of pain, sorrow and grief. Again, I had wounded him. I would wound him, again and again, tearing strip upon strip from his soul, until I died. My poor lonely Telepath, what did you ever see in me that made you think I was an honorable, caring man?

[Matthew... Matthew... Please.]

-=-=-=-

Matthew had admitted that he loved me, only because he thought he was dying and he wanted my forgiveness. His voice was full of self-hate, and self-despair, and I suddenly realized how much pain Matthew had inflicted on himself over what we had done. But he said he LOVED me. How that thought had rocked my soul's foundation, and I had to stop and compose myself. Once, that admission from Matthew would have been what I had always secretly wanted to hear. Now, I feared hearing it as... it only meant one thing. Matthew couldn't be dying. Not now. Not when we only had to climb only a few more steps. Oh Vishnu, Devi and Shiva, It was all my fault!

"FIVE!" St. John called that out, joyfully. The Operations Officer for the Dya was looking somewhat ragged but Warlock had insisted on leading the pace.

"FOUR!" That was Sarah, grinning in exhaustion.

"THREE!" Dureena screamed that out, her voice echoing from the heights.

"TWO!" I yelled.

"LAST GODDAMN ONE!!" That was O'Neill, as we had saved announcing the final step for him, as it was only *right*.

"SECOND Floor! Human Sacrifices!" St. John announced as though we were stopping for sporting goods in a classy store. "Come along now! Leave the Elevator behind, please! No pushing. No shoving!"

"Careful. They've probably booby trapped the entire floor." Dureena and O'Neill both mumbled that at the same time, and they gave each other a smile. Apparently the head of security for the Dya and Dureena were hitting it off just fine. I wasn't sure if I should be frightened or reassured by that development.

We stood there for a minute, and I decided to speak to let the wounded man know that we were there. Loudly, I called out "GIDEON?" while O'Neill and Dureena discussed possible problems with the floor. Was that a dead fall? A trick step?

No response.

=-=-=-=-

I thought I heard someone call my name so I tried to answer weakly. But I don't think they heard me. Fading into darkness, I let go of the pain...

[Regrets?] That was a familiar voice. I tried to focus on it, and for a moment, I thought I saw someone in the mist.

[Isn't that my question?] I asked. In my last near death experience, I seem to remember that I was the one asking that particular question. To my eternal heartache, I had gotten an answer to that question.

[The roles have reversed, meaning that the questions can be changed and asked by another.]

[Oh God. I knew it. God is actually a VORLON.] I tried to laugh, and I began coughing hard. The pain was tearing in my side, and I found myself fighting for breath. Dear God, the pain. The PAIN.

[Not a Vorlon, Matthew. Not by a long shot.] The voice began whispering to me again. [Regrets, Matthew? Do you have any?]

"Hurt someone... I . . . loved. So badly, he was afraid... of me." It was getting harder to speak, but I needed to say that out loud, and then I closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth of the blessed darkness. There wasn't going to be any light for someone like me at the end, just never ending darkness. "Hurt him. So bad. Hate myself over ... what I did to him."

[Loved? Is it truly over then? Before it had a chance to be acknowledged?] For a moment, his thoughts had such a taste of sadness that I found myself crying.

[No. Yes. Still, love him. But it's... over... for me. Will you stay with me? Until I pass over? Don't want to die alone, here. But, I'll understand if you... leave.]

[I'll never leave you, Matthew. Never.]

I felt myself falling... free falling into ....

Darkness

warmth...

falling

pain

letting

go . . . falling . . .

still

falling . . .

Haven't

hit

bottom
yet

still

falling

and

falling

But I wasn't alone. For he was with me.

END PART 5