<USS Atlantis> Leaving the Dead

  • From: CdrSullivan@xxxxxxx
  • To: ussatlantis@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
  • Date: Sun, 18 Aug 2002 13:04:28 EDT

Leaving the Dead
A Joint Log
Commander Sullivan and Lieutenant Zinthys

A note from the authors:  Leaving the Dead takes place immediately after the 
marriage of the Admiral and our lovely counselor.  To refresh your memories, 
Sullivan and Zinthys agreed to spend a weekend together... a weekend without 
walls, no hiding behind small talk or twisted phrases.  It was to be an 
honest and straightforward encounter.  This is a result of the weekend and 
gives some insight as to the new attitudes that you may have seen exhibited 
by these two crewmembers recently.  We hope you enjoy.


As the fog began to roll gently into the small English town, Lieutenant Allen 
Zinthys walked next to Commander Sullivan, head down and silent.  He hadn't 
expected her to ask quite so directly about his late wife, yet he didn't know 
why this had surprised him.  Though Sullivan was not one to pry, and never 
had on their quiet times spent in the lounge, she was usually direct.  They 
had agreed to this get away in an effort to find out what, if anything, lay 
between them.  The question should have been expected.  What had perhaps 
surprised him more was his own willingness to tell her.  It indicated a level 
of trust that he hadn't realized existed.  Sure, he trusted her as a more 
than capable officer.  He might even go so far as to admire her resolve to 
keep on living, keep going, even when things seemed bleak.  However, she had 
a dark and guarded side that kept her aloof and outside of those who were 
living around her.  Maybe it was her extremely private nature that had made 
him feel that he could tell her.

Sullivan, too, walked in silence.  The emotion and pain that Zinthys had 
expressed when speaking about his late wife had pierced through her 
protective shell and she saw Allen more for the man he was rather than the 
officer that she knew.  To know such love and to have lost it had to be the 
most devastating event in someone's life.  She despaired that if they decided 
to follow this path into a relationship, she would never be able to compete 
with the woman's ghost.  Suli walked with her hands thrust deeply into the 
pockets of her charcoal grey, wool blazer as the incoming fog swirled gently 
at her sensibly booted feet.  She tried to ignore the fact that they were 
passing a small cemetary on their left.  A grim reminder of death and its 
finality.  She saw Zinthys lift his head and look towards the cemetary in an 
effort to read the headstones, but failing.

"People change, Zinthys... no one expects you to remain the same man that you 
were then."  She watched her feet so as to not trip as she had earlier.  "But 
to think that you should have died with her...."  She shrugged and sighed.  
"Sometimes that is not for us to decide."

"And perhaps that is a good thing," he conceded.  "It would mean I never 
would've met you... or anyone else I know now."  He added the last part 
almost as an afterthought.

Not daring to lift her head and look at him, she kept her eyes glued to the 
movement of her feet as a small smile twitched her lips. "Oh.... so meeting 
me is a good thing?"

"It certainly isn't bad," he admitted.  They walked along the sturdy stone 
wall that guarded the dead that slept within.  "Let me ask you something. Do 
you believe 
there is some higher order guiding us? Someone or something that makes 
everything happen for a reason?"

An unexpected laugh burst from the commander's throat.  "Have you been 
talking 
to Doctor Caine?"  The question was something that she would have expected 
during one of the good doctor's late night philosophy sessions.

Allen looked at her funny since he didn't have a point of reference for the 
question.  "No, I have not.  It's just that what you said... makes me think 
that maybe there is a reason I'm still here."  His features took on a puzzled 
expression as he tried to work out what he was thinking.  "Not just any old 
reason, but something specific.  Something I'm supposed to do."

Sullivan recomposed herself quickly and walked for a moment before she 
responded.  "I'm not sure what I believe.  I'd hate to think that some higher 
power who has the ability to move our lives in such a way would allow us to 
feel the pain that we do."

He nodded thoughtlfully at her response.  "Indeed..."

"A reason for you to lose your wife?"  Her mind twisted her thoughts into 
words.   "A reason that I had to endure..... when I .... was gone?"

"Maybe there's a reason that bad things happen," he offered.

She sighed and shook her head.  "That which does not kill us...."

"Something like that," he asserted. "I mean, if there's a reason, then does 
it 
make the suffering more bearable?  To know that there's a reason that you're 
suffering."

"In order to believe that... then you would have to believe that the universe 
gives a rat's ass about you."  Her tone held a bitter note. "And my Prophets 
would have you believe that this is true."

"What *do* you believe about the Prophets," he asked curiously. Though he 
knew she was half Bajoran and seemed to follow the path of their religion, 
she never really talked about it.  She would often curse colorfully about 
them and her ear always carried the ornate earring that marked her as a 
believer.  However, there seemed something incongruous in thinking that the 
brooding Suli was a true follower.

"To an extent... I believe they are right.  But if...."  She stopped for a 
moment and took a deep breath of the cool night air as she thought for a 
moment.   Zinthys looked at her as he waited patiently for her to continue.  
"If life, the universe, can be pictured as a river," she continued.  "And I 
am a boat on this river carried onwards to a 
destined ending... and I see a waterfall up ahead?  Prophets be damned.... 
I'm going to try to steer the other way."

"And you think your oar can beat the current?"  He asked inquisitively.

She shrugged.  "I don't know.... and if it does?  Who is to say that the 
Prophet's did not plan for it to do so?"  She sighed in response to her 
philosophical predicament.  "Believe me, Zinthys.  There are days that I 
wonder why I even bother.  I spend half my time accepting them.... and the 
other half hating them."

Allen nodded in understanding.  "I know. I feel the same sometimes. I think 
we all do."

Sullivan picked a leaf off a nearby shrub and methodically began to shred 
it in her fingers.  "I don't know if you realize it or not...."  Her lips 
pursed into a frown.  "But when I came back.... I didn't know if I could keep 
going..... keep fighting.  I wanted to embrace the waterfall."  It was 
something that she had never said, though she was sure that some who knew her 
suspected... most definately Solitaire with her mothering, worrisome ways.  
She took a deep breath as a slight blush pinkened her cheeks.  "And whether 
you knew it or not.... well, I just wanted to thank you."  It was the closest 
she could come to telling him how much he meant to her.

"Of course," he said solemnly.  "It's what friends are for, aren't they?" 

She smiled wanely. "Of course.  Friends."  Looking slightly ahead, she could 
see the gate to the cemetary, the large iron gates hanging slightly ajar.  
"Want to 
go in?" 

Allen shook his head.  "Not particularly. I don't know anybody here." He 
glanced at her busy fingers as they left a small trail of green confetti 
behind the walking couple.  The right one was always clad in a black leather 
glove, though he knew that beneath the surface the skin of the cybernetic 
appendage matched that of the rest of her...or the rest of her they could 
see. "By the way, how's your hand?"

She looked at her gloved hand and clenched and unclenched it a few times. "It 
seems to be back to normal.  It was rather disconcerting to be without it... 
but now that it's back.... it's hard to explain... it doesn't feel like its a 
part of me anymore."  Her shoulders lifted and fell in a quick, dismissive 
shrug.  "I'm sure I'll get over it."

Allen recalled how disconcerting it had been when they had recovered the 
appendage from the seedy bar.  To have just a piece of her, not knowing if 
they would find the rest....   "Perhaps you realized you don't need it to 
still be you."

She chucked softly in response.  "Or perhaps Tempest would say that I am 
afraid that I need it too much... and so refuse to make it a part of me for 
fear of losing it again."  Funny how that applied to herself in so many other 
ways.  Don't let anyone close, don't let them in.... in the end they all 
leave.

Zinthys smiled at the accurate assessment of what they believed would be the 
counselor's response.  "She probably would."

"I wonder what she would say if she saw us at this moment?"

It was Allen's turn to think for a moment.  "She would probably say that we 
need to get over our past, overcome our inhibitions, and just let what 
happens happen," he surmised.

An unladylike snort  came from the direction of the commander. "Easy for her 
to say... she's found happily ever after."

Zinthys laughed at her response to the imaginary words of the ghostly 
counselor. "Exactly."

Sullivan turned and looked at him suddenly.  "What is it that you want?"

Jolted by the unexpectedness of the question, he had no time to think.  
"Excuse me," he questioned.  "What do you mean by that?"

Realizing that the question came out of left field, she rushed on.  "I 
mean... here.  In your life.  You have your career.  You do your job well.  
But is there anything else that you want?"

Allen sighed quietly, "It's not something I've given much thought to."  He 
saw another leaf get snagged by the commander and the methodical destruction 
of it.  "I suppose it would be nice to have someone to share with. Share all 
my joys and triumphs. My despairs and woes. And someone to give my room more 
meaning than just a place to sleep."

"Do you think you'll ever get over..... her?"  The question was asked with a 
quiet reverence.

"Not by myself. But, yes, I can."

Thinking about what he said she offered, "You could always get a dog."  She 
grinned weakly at her own attempt at humor however pitiful it might be."

"Hmph. I was never one for pets. They don't share very well."  He allowed her 
the comforting blanket of comedy to ease the seriousness of the conversation.

Sullivan looked up at the moon and the hazy blanket of stars that filled the 
sky. "Oh, hell," she thought.  "What's the worst he can say?"  She mentally 
stepped to the edge of the emotional cliff and prepared for a messy landing.  
"Zinthys?"  Her voice was low and serious.

Allen saw that they were coming into the heart of the sleepy little town.  
Streetlamps glowed invitingly through the mystical haze of the fog.  "Yes?"  
He turned to see that she had stopped.

"What do you see when you look at me?"

He came to a full and sudden stop and looked at her.  Without missing a beat, 
without hesitation, he answered.  "I see someone who needs to be loved."  
Realizing what he had just said, he smiled at her and took her left hand, her 
real hand, into his.
"And I hope you'll let it be me."

A slow flush began to enfuse her body and stain her cheeks a scarlet red.  As 
Allen looked into her eyes and smiled his crooked smile at her, she began to 
stammer and stutter.  Incomprehensible noises were all she could muster since 
she had really expected the *competant StarFleet officer* line.  Suli finally 
stopped her incoherant rambling and looked at his smile and the seriousness 
of his eyes as they waited for her answer.  "Allen..... I..... "  Unaware 
that the grin of the villiage idiot had appeared on her own face as well, she 
stepped closer to him and rose on her toes to engage his lips in an answer 
that did not require words.

Not releasing her hand, he slipped his other around to her back to steady 
them both.  His lips eagerly reciprocated the kiss, happy with her wordless 
answer.  The kiss was not rushed, nor did it hold the frantic passion that 
one associates with teenagers in cars.  It was a kiss of trust and 
acceptance, slow and unhurried, enjoyed like a fine wine.  It spoke of 
promise and the future, but was tinged slightly with the bitter pain from 
both their pasts.  It ended mutually, as if both partners had come to an 
agreement and were pleased with the outcome.

Zinthys took a step backwards, slightly out of breath as his hand left her 
back to return once more to his side.  "Thank you," he simply said.

Sullivan blinked wordlessly at him for a moment as her world stopped spinning 
wildly.  "No, Allen" she said softly.  "Thank you."

He smiled lightly at her as he tugged at her hand, urging her to walk once 
more.  "Come on.  I'm hungry."  The lights from the windows of a nearby 
small, local pub beckoned through the fog, promising shelter and the 
possibility of food.

Her chuckle hung in the thick air.  "Thinking about your stomach at a time 
like this?"

Allen humphed good naturedly.  "A rumbling stomach is never attractive."

She laughed, enjoying the feel of her hand in his.  "I've seen you look 
worse."

"Why, thank you."  He sounded pleased.  "I'll take that as a compliment."

"My office IS just across from yours... remember?"  

He looked at her with mock scrutiny. "Have you been spying on me?"

She sniffed haughtily in reply.  "It's my job... remember?"

"Well, I'm glad you so enjoy your work."

He was rewarded by a devilish grin. "You  make it easy...."

"I'm glad you could practice your hobby at work."  They crossed the 
cobblestone street with light steps, instead of the funereal pace they had 
set on the earlier portion of their walk.

Sullivan pretended to ponder for a moment. "Though maybe I SHOULD 
remove the surveillance equipment from your shower."


"Well, I never!"  The exclamation revealed that he was unsure whether she was 
serious or not."  He received no answer except for the laughter that came 
from his partner as she tipped back her head.  He hesitated for a moment 
before opening the door to the pub.  "Ladies and spies first."

Still chuckling at the thought that he might be serious, she admonished him.  
"That would be a severe breech of protocol, Zinthys... abuse of power and all 
that.  You should know me better than that."

"I do. Which is why I wonder."  With an assured motion, he swung the door to 
the pub open and gestured for her to enter.  Sullivan turned her head 
slightly as the bright lights from the pub spill out, the sounds of laughter 
and happiness, the clatter of mugs and plates, cutting through the desolate 
darkness of the foggy evening. "Maybe they have a karaoke machine," he teased 
lightly, making reference to his discovery that she would occasionally wander 
into the lounge late at night to do a number or two.

Suli chuckled at the reminder that he knew and had not forgotten.  "You 
better hope not."  He pulled at his hand as she stepped over the threshhold.  
"Come on."

"Alright! I'm coming, I'm coming..."  He smiled as her laughter was lost in 
the sounds of life and the living as they entered the room and blended 
seamlessly with humanity.

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