I Hold My Breath and Wait for You to Breathe

Sliders or the characters in no way belong to me. They belong to St. Claire Entertainment, Universal, and the Sci Fi Channel.

The line, "I hold my breath and wait for You to breathe" belongs to Peter Furler and Phil Joel of the Newsboys.

I know how you feel. At least, I keep trying to convince myself of that. I imagine you're tired and haggard from not knowing. Not knowing if you will ever be rescued from that prison, your prison. For that matter, not knowing if someone is even looking to rescue you, even remembering you.

I wonder that myself. I wonder now if we think of you at all. At times even the very purpose of our continued sliding, the reason we agreed not to give up in despair, seems cloudy. The threat seems so far, so distant most of the time, I think we forget about it.

But you don't. The threat is right there every minute of every day for you; slapping you, beating you, raping your very soul.

I should be punished for forgetting you, for letting your memory be pushed out of my mind.

It's only coincidence that I am thinking of you now, you know. It's your birthday. I know because I saw your double today in a restaurant; her friends singing happy birthday to her as the waiters and waitresses joined in and held a cake glowing with candles.

God forgive me for forgetting.

I wish I could save you. I wish I could go get you, girl. You were a star in my world; a star shining bright that I could see both in the sunshine of joy and in the dark night of my soul.

I miss how you danced and beamed in our lives. I miss you, even your fears. What I wouldn't do to have you back with us. What I wouldn't do to have you back here with me.

I'm ashamed to say it, but I would be happy to have you to myself. I know you wouldn't approve, that you would be uncomfortable and try to focus me on friendship. I know the love that burned in you for Quinn. And part of me feels like I'm betraying both of you by my love. But, standing here alone, so, so far away from you, so far away from who any of us used to be, I can't help but long for you to be here with me...long to hold your hand and see the moonlight reflect on your cheek and in your eyes.

I can't do anything to save you, or even to save me from the empty, hollow well of my spirit.

All I can do is pray, pray to the God who I haven't spoken to in years. Pray that you're alright, that somehow you know He is there to comfort you and keep you. Because I can't.

Far away from you, standing alone in a freedom that imprisons me, I am holding my breath, and waiting to hear you breathe.

END

That's it. Obviously, at least I hope it's obvious, this whole thing is a line of thought by Rembrandt; how oneday he chances to think of Wade and pour out his thoughts, as if they could cross the multi-verse and touch her heart. While it is true that I am an avid Quinn/Wade shipper, part of me is drawn the connection between Wade and Remmy, and to his side of the relationship. Sure, he was always her friend, always a trusted confidante, but I often wondered at a look I would see here, or a comment there, about just how deep his feelings went. I guess, I am touched by the idea of a love, his love, that seems so out of place and having no hope of being requited.

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Please, e-mail me and tell me what you thought!!! Daylan Richards