TYR

*I'd wipe away all of your tears. I'd fight away all of your fears.*

Tyr almost sighed as he turned off the latest message from Harper. He had told Tyr not to forget to write, and he hadn't. The two had secretly been in communication since Tyr left. If anyone had asked Tyr he'd have told them it was to keep an eye on he Andromeda and it's activities. To track Dylan. He would have been lying . . . mostly. While he did think it wise to keep an eye on the Andromeda he enjoyed the communication with Harper . . . usually. The young man had been very sure to tell him, yet again, the effect his departure had on Beka. That Harper had caught her crying, more than once. That she had shared with him her fears, the ones that came to life in her nightmares. He wished he could be there to wipe away those tears. To promise her that her fears were groundless. That those nightmares would never become real. That he would never do those things. It hurt that she could believe he would, but he knew he deserved that pain. He would never give the order to destroy the Adnromeda. Because if he did he would kill Beka, and with her part of himself. And a Nietzian would never kill them selves. Because he did not think he could stand a universe without Beka Valentine in it. Because the only people he truly considered friends were on it. Including, strangely enough, the ship itself. He'd come to respect her abilities. Not only to destroy, but to survive, when so many High Guard ships had not. Survive against opponents larger and stronger than her self.

He almost winced at the next memory. After he'd confessed to Beka that he'd always wished she was a Neitzian she'd asked what she was now. Then she'd answered her own question, and said she was nothing. He'd hated, truly and deeply hated, to hear her say that. Hated that his actions had, even for a moment, caused her to think she was nothing to him; knowing that was the one thing she could never be. Not to him. She could be his strength, his weakness, his heart; but never could she be nothing.

*You used to captivate me by your light.*

Looking at his screen Tyr activated the correct picture. He'd brought it with him from the Andromeda. Harper had been playing with his latest toy, an incredibly small camera. He'd taken the picture during a reception held to welcome yet another member to the Restored Common Wealth. Beka had, reluctantly, attended. Harper had surprised them just after they had finished a dance and were standing very close. Tr was, as always, struck by the contrast between them. Him large and dark, her small and light. Her light had always attracted him, fascinated him. As had her strength, especially in one who, seen next to him, looked so small and almost fragile.

That thought brought a small smile to his face. Beka, fragile. The words did not seem to belong together; but in many ways Beka was fragile. Especially when it came to relationships. He, Tyr Anasazi, of the Kodiac Pride, regretted that he had hurt her as he regretted nothing else in his life. He had regretted leaving his son, but known he would return and make it up to him. He knew he could never return and make this up to Beka. Not in this lifetime.

*These wounds won't seem to heal. This pain is just to real. There is to much that time cannot erase.*

Tyr had discovered very quickly that holding his son, being with him, was the only thing that gave him peace and let him forget for a time the emptiness in his heart. He knew that Nietzians weren't supposed to have hearts; except in the literal, physical sense. And he didn't. Not anymore. His heart was with Beka on the Andromeda. He loved his son, but no one else could get close to him emotionally, not anymore. Certainly not the women who were beginning to show an interest in him. An interest he did not, could not, return.

He remembered her final words to him, that it takes a lifetime to forget. He believed her. No mate he eventually took, no victory he won, could make him forget her. He wasn't even sure that death would be able to make him forget her.

*You still have all of me.*

As he stood looking out the Observation Deck of his new ship Tyr found himself thinking of a question one of his General's had asked another. "Are you with us?" He knew the question had not been directed at him, but it felt as if it was.

Was he with them? His body was. His mind was. Much of his soul was. So why did it feel as if *he* wasn't? Why couldn't he shake the feeling that *he* was far away from here. At the time they'd been discussing having to, one day, fight, and destroy, the Andromeda. He'd acted as if it was a possibility he would entertain; even though he knew he never would. It felt like that is where *he* was, on the Andromeda with Beka.

He was there keeping an eye on the little professor, his little brother. He was there trading insults and arguments with the ship. The only "being" he'd ever found who could equal him in cold, unrelenting logic. He was there playing goh with Dylan, and being his balance. A balance Dylan had admitted he'd needed. "That's why I've had you, Tyr." Dylan had said. It was why he'd had Rhade. He needed that balance. But most of all he was there with Beka. Even though he had left, *he* was still there at her side, and always would be.

*Your face haunts my once pleasant dreams*

Waking up from his dream Tyr went into the next room and watched his son sleep.

In his dream Tamerlaine had stood tall and proud by his side, holding the hand of a redheaded two year old girl. A girl who looked just like her mother; when Beka, rarely, allowed her hair to revert to its natural color. The firey hair matched the young girls spirit. Ilying on a bed in front of them Beka was smiling happily up at him as she held his newborn son. In the next room waited "Uncles" Harper and Dylan and "Aunts" Trance and Rommie; who had come to be there for the birth.

It took all Tyr great self-control not to react to the dream. Not to destroy things. Not to curse the universe for making the dream impossible. Not to go for Beka and claim her as his own, then make the dream a reality. He wanted that dream as he had wanted few other things in his life.

Tyr returned to his room and began to read. He knew from past experience that he would find no more rest this night.

*I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone. And though you're still with me I've been alone all along*

Near dawn Tyr looked up from his book. He'd just read an interesting part and wanted to share it with Beka. Just as he was about to stand reality came back to him. Beka was gone. Or, more accurately, he was gone. He'd been so caught up in the book that he'd momentarily forgotten how things had changed. This was not the first such occurrence, far from it. He had grown used to having her nearby. To talk with, fight with. He realized that included both meanings of the term. He'd fought with her, in an argument, and fought with her against enemies. He missed that. Missed having her at his side.

The conflict in his soul once again resurfaced. His Neitzian soul longed to claim his mate, to have her with him. But that same Nietzian soul would not allow him to because she was not a Nietzian. He had not been lying when he told her he'd often wished she was Neitzian.

He knew the old saying that if you loved something you let it go. But he had found that he could not let her go. He was; however, aware that she had never been his to let go. Her independence had been, and still was, one of the things he loved most about her. Perhaps that is why she had not begged him to stay. Not that he could ever picture her begging, but she'd not even asked. She loved him and was letting him go. Trusting that he would one day return to her. He hoped it was so. He'd told Ataturk that true Neitzians were also dreamers, and he held to his dreams.