Chapter Text
"DAMNED IF YOU DO"
A "Farscape" story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL
AlisonMDobell@aol.com
http://www.carlajane.50megs.com/Ali00.html
* * * * *
Everyone was hurting. The shock of hearing of Crichton's death by radiation sickness had thrown them all into a deep mix of sorrow and anxiety. Between them they could have kept an army of shrinks busy for centuries. Talyn had brought the sad news to Moya along with Aeryn, Stark and Rygel. Crais was as deeply affected as the rest of them but he did not want to hang around the mausoleum that Moya was becoming, nor could he help Aeryn. He had never seen grief like it and just being near her was like looking into an open wound. He was no coward but he did not want to get sucked in along with everybody else. At the end he had found himself liking the Crichton who had come with them. The one that Aeryn had fallen so deeply in love with. The one who had finally earned his trust and his respect if not quite his friendship. But he quailed at the thought of going through all of that again with the Crichton still on Moya. The one who had undoubtedly been waiting, hoping and praying that someday Aeryn would come back to him. Crais got no satisfaction from the fact that the Aeryn who was returning would want no part of him now. If ever. Not for all the nogelti crystals in the Uncharted Territories would he want to change places with the other Crichton right now. He left as soon as he could decently do so having offered Aeryn one last chance to go with him. Not out of lust this time but out of
compassion. She refused. He knew she would. What surprised him was the feeling of relief
her refusal gave him.
The silence was profound. Talyn left and the stunned crew was reunited but never more fragmented. In the background, hardly daring to breathe was John Crichton. He had lost weight, had deep shadows under his eyes where he was not sleeping, eyes red rimmed with the last of his hope dying when Aeryn turned from him and would not even look at him. Crushed he was not yet defeated but the margain was so close that the others found it painful to look at him. Stark was very protective of Aeryn but also concerned about the other Crichton. The one they had left behind on Moya. He looked at Zhaan and they shared the sorrow of what had happened and the fear of what was to come. Chiana hovered near Crichton but not too close. She had been getting more and more worried about him as had D'Argo. While the Luxan respected the human's need for privacy he still worried about him. You only had to look at the human to know you were in the presence of a living corpse. Now that Aeryn was back the cross he was carrying looked like becoming the final straw. Aeryn. The only sun in his sky. The only star he wanted to be guided by. The only love that would ever occupy the whole of his heart even if he lived to be a thousand. They all knew it, even Rygel.
Aeryn hugged Zhaan and held on to her a lot longer than she would normally have done. The Delvian priestess knew that now was not the time to tell her how worried they were about Crichton. She had just lost one of them. How could she tell the Sebacean she was in danger of losing the other one? Right now Aeryn would probably have been relieved. Sadness could only
come from a heart that felt and right now she was too numb, too overloaded with emotion. Her grief set the tone on the ship and the crew lived in whispers. Stolen pieces of time between the heartbeats they now shared with Aeryn. She was so emotionally devastated it was draining the crew and they could not fail to see how it affected Crichton. The other half of the once bickering partnership that had become so much a part of their daily lives that they now missed it. Sorrowing for everything they had lost.
* * * * *
Aeryn knew he would be there. Had been dreading it. Was pierced through to her heart every time her eyes glanced off him. He looked terrible but it hardly penetrated. All she could think about was how much he looked like her John, but he was not her John. Could never be. All he could be was the ghost that would haunt her soul forever. She wished he had found his wormhole. That on returning to Moya she would have found him gone but happily to the world he had left behind. To those who still loved him. Because. As terrible as it sounded she could not. He was the reminder who would not go away so she ignored him, tried her best to avert her eyes when he came near. To cut him out of her life. Missing his shudder of distress every time she did so. Gradually he withdrew further and further from her, giving her the space she craved to grieve. On some level she was grateful to him but it was still too soon and the wound was so raw it could have wept blood. Perhaps it did. She would never know, too wrapped up in her grief to notice.
Zhaan watched, worried. Stark looked at Crichton and felt his heart ache. His heart ached for both of them. He raised his eye and looked at Zhaan. Two worried parents fretting over the children. Silently they vowed to look after them, watch over them without intruding and making matters worse. So Zhaan would make a habit of going passed Crichton's room during his sleep cycle, pausing by his doorway to listen and see if he was alright. He was not alright but was he coping? No. He was not taking the sleeping draughts she had been preparing for him. She did not know what to do about it. Did not know how to comfort him and bring him back from this terrible depression that was taking him further and further away from her. >From them all. He was not in his bed. Crichton was sitting on the floor beside his bed, head resting forward on his crossed arms. She had never seen him more dejected. Her heart broke just watching him. There was no movement. No sign that he had heard her. That he even knew she was there. So his soft voice startled her.
"Come in if you're coming in, Zhaan."
Zhaan walked up to him, rested a hand gently on the top of his head then bent and kissed the top of his head. All her love and sorrow for him somehow transmitted in that tender touch. She ignored the bed and knelt beside him. "John."
He shook his head gently, still not looking up. She realised he was crying, trying hard to make no noise but she knew. Each tear fell in her own heart. She gently stroked a hand through his hair, trying to find words that would comfort him but knew everything gave him pain because the one thing he wanted above all else was the one thing he could never have. Aeryn.
"You must give her time, John." She said softly. Her hand now stroking the back of his neck. It was soothing but nothing but grief could touch his heart. "You cannot go on like this. Not eating, not sleeping."
She felt his sobs deepen and put her arms around him, cradling him against her and gently rocking him. Without looking up at her he opened his arms and wrapped them around her, finally giving in to all the sorrow pent up inside him. He cried for arns and patiently she held him, rocked him and gave what small comfort she could.
In the corridor outside, Chiana watched and made her quiet way back to her own quarters, tears running down her face. She wanted to hate Aeryn. To accuse her of being selfish. To demand she think of Crichton not herself but she could not do it. The trouble was that Aeryn was grieving too, but for the other Crichton. The one she had finally opened up to and handed her heart. It was ironic and so unfair. D'Argo was still awake when she reached him. His sad eyes told her that he understood, that what had happened pained him also. It was strange how a misery shared became a burden halved. For everyone except Aeryn and Crichton. D'Argo flicked back the bedclothes as Chiana stripped then joined him, burrowing herself into his strong chest. He covered her then bent his head to kiss her, his huge hands so gentle, his look so loving. "Chiana, there is nothing you can do." He said quietly. She knew he was right but it still hurt. She nodded against his chest but said nothing. He sighed and loved her slowly, carrying the sorrow of her heart a fraction away from breaking point as he filled her with his passion. Part of her responded, part of her was exalted in this beautiful gift, but part of her could not be happy. Not while Crichton was falling apart and Aeryn grieved. D'Argo shuddered as he came and produced a smile at last from Chiana's lips. She lifted her head to look at him, a hand stroking his tenkas, a look of mischief returning that he had long missed.
"Oh, Chiana..."
She twined his tenkas round her fingers and he groaned with pleasure at the sensation. His reactions drove the sorrow from her mind. The perfect antidote for what ailed her. Chiana lost herself in loving him back, taking him to the brink of paradise and urging him to leap into the void with her as he came. Her passion awakened she was the equal of anything the Luxan male
could desire and they both knew it. Revelled in it and lost themselves again and again until the sleep of exhaustion beckoned from a lazy doorway of the mind. Her last thought as she drifted into sleep in D'Argo's arms was that this was what Crichton and Aeryn needed. Not Zhaan's sleeping potions or Stark's advice, not Rygel's acid wisdom or the passage even of time. They
needed this. Contact. If they had this, nature would take care of the rest.
* * * * *
Aeryn found herself in Pilot's den. Unable to return to her quarters. Her memories burning into her mind with such painful clarity that closing her eyes just amplified what she was feeling. Pilot watched her, concerned and wanting to help but not knowing what to do. He knew so little of
love. The closest he could equate it to was his intense feelings for Moya.
"I can't stand this pilot. No wonder Peace Keepers did not encourage emotional couplings." She looked at him, her tear stained face pleading with him to understand. "What am I going to do, Pilot? As if the grief of losing John isn't enough every time I turn around there's Crichton."
Pilot nodded slowly, his expression sad. "He is hurting too."
Tears threatened again. Tears of pain, of rage. Railing against a universe that could do this to her, to him. A universe so sick and perverted because it did not care. "What am I going to do, Pilot?"
Pilot reached out a clawed hand and cradled her cheek, the tears spilling down his chitinous hand. With his other hands he raised her up to sit on his console. She tried to smile at him through her tears but it was too much. "Oh Pilot, I'm so glad you are here. You're the only one I feel I can talk to. The only one who understands."
Pilot said nothing. He did not understand, not really. Not in the way Aeryn thought or needed but if she felt he did then that was a good thing. They remained in companionable silence, Moya humming quietly to soothe the fragile Sebacean while the leviathan worried about the equally
fragile human.
* * * * *
After a few arns Crichton lifted his head and looked into Zhaan's beautiful peaceful face. A weary smile fought its' way up from the depths of his broken heart and he gave it to her. A gift of love. Of thanks. She rested her forehead against his and for a time they did not speak, communing in quietude and absorbinig the essence of the other for a while. Typically, Crichton spoke first. "Thank you, Zhaan."
She looked at him, her look so gentle, so loving. So full of wisdom and understanding. He really did think the world of Zhaan. She had told him after Unity that he now carried a piece of her inside him and for him to take care of it. Looking at her now he wondered if she carried a piece of him. He told her what he was thinking and saw her smile slowly. It was like the sun coming up. Like her. Beautiful. "What do you think, John?"
"I think that is no answer, Zhaan."
She chuckled softly and stood up. "You should try to get some sleep now."
He got up, stiff and suddenly aware of just how long he had been sitting there. He was shattered. She looked at him critically for a microt. "Will you do something for me, John?"
His expression clouded slightly, knowing what she was going to ask. "If I can."
She raised a hand to his face and cradled it against his cheek. "Take the sleeping draught I gave you."
He started to shake his head. "I have to be on command in a couple of arns, Zhaan...."
She stroked his cheek with her thumb. "I'll speak to the others. You need to sleep. Not just for your sake but for theirs."
He knew what she was saying and nodded. Having gained his acquiessence she briefly touched his forehead with hers again in a fond farewell then left him. "Sleep well."
"Thanks, Zhaan. I'll try."
He watched her go then sighed. Sleep. How could he tell her he never wanted to close his eyes again? What was he some kind of masochist? He was damned if he did, damned if he didn't. <God Dad, I am so screwed up. Humpty Dumpty had it easy compared to me>
* * * * *
The others were relieved when Zhaan told them what she had said to Crichton. It was the start of a new solar day and they were in the mess hall. Rygel was stuffing another couple of food cubes into his mouth but still managed to say something. "About time! Now perhaps we can start to get back to normal around here."
Chiana wacked him around the back of the head. Hard. The Dominar spluttered and spat out half of his foodcubes. He turned to glare at her as she leaned in to him. "You wouldn't know normal if it crawled out of gastropod shell, toad!"
"Watch it, girlie. I've had just about enough of your antics."
Zhaan interrupted. She did not have the time or patience to play referee between Chiana and Rygel. The only one who was not present besides Crichton was Aeryn. "Rygel! Chiana! You are not helping."
They both had the grace to look guilty though when they looked at each other a row could errupt at any microt. Zhaan carried on talking. "We have to decide what to do about Aeryn and John."
D'Argo was frowning. "Why *do* anything, Zhaan? This is something they must come to terms with, we cannot do that for them no matter how much we feel for what they are going through."
"Yes, D'Argo," Said Stark. "But they are in danger of tearing each other apart before they have a chance to heal."
Chiana fixed her gaze on Stark, all thoughts of taunting Rygel far from her mind. "What do you have in mind?"
"Nothing specific but we should be watchful, try to help where we can."
"That is easier said than done," Said Rygel. "John is so withdrawn he hardly speaks and Aeryn only opens her mouth to bite your head off."
"That's not fair!" Said Stark leaping to her defence.
"No, it's not," Grumbled Rygel. "But that's Aeryn."
"Rygel!" Yelled Chiana.
He looked up, puzzled at her anger. "What the yotz is wrong with you?"
"Aeryn is in pain."
"Yes, and so am I every time she throws one of her tantrums."
Zhaan looked at Rygel closely making him feel uncomfortable. "Rygel. Aeryn has just lost someone who is very close to her. We have to be patient, give her time. Haven't you ever lost anyone?"
He tried to hide how much her words affected him. "Of course I've lost someone, I've lived over three hundred cycles and it doesn't get any easier with time. But sitting about moping doesn't help anyone."
"They are not there yet, dear Rygel." Said Zhaan gently, her kindly spoken words admonishing him more than words spoken in anger would ever have done. He hung his head and looked shamefaced.
"You are right, Zhaan. I'm sorry."
The others looked surprised but before they could say anything Zhaan turned and looked at them all. "If we want to help we are going to have to be patient with *both* of them. Taking sides is the last thing any of us should be doing."
No one answered, not wanting to admit that they had been falling into two camps each blaming the other for perpetuating the doom and gloom aboard Moya and making all their lives unbearable. Zhaan thanked them then left with Stark. For a moment the others did not move. Rygel mumbled something about having to sort out some of his things and made a hasty exit. D'Argo and Chiana looked at each other then D'Argo sighed. "I should go and wake John. We have some work to attend to in Moya's ducts but I am reluctant to disturb him if he is sleeping."
Chiana tilted her head. "No problem, I'll help."
He gave her an amused look. "No offence Chiana but this is no work for...." His voice trailed off.
Her head jerked to tilt the other way. "No work for what? A tralk? A female? A worthless little Nebari?"
"I did not say that! I did not say any of those things, Chiana."
She looked at him for a microt. "If I don't help you who will?"
He spoke without hesitation. "Aeryn."
Chiana looked at him in surprise. "Aeryn?"
Just then the subject of their conversation walked into the mess hall. "What about me?"
They both looked round. D'Argo actually looked relieved to see her. Now he would not have to wake her up. "Moya's ducts. I need help and was going to ask you."
For a moment she looked as if she was going to refuse then she seemed to have second thoughts. "Very well."
D'Argo beamed at her. "Good. I'll get my things and be back in a couple of microts."
Aeryn nodded and helped herself to a foodcube. She took the smallest bite then looked up at Chiana. The Nebari girl felt awkward. She really did not want to be alone with Aeryn right now. Did not want to risk saying something that Crichton would spend the rest of his natural life paying for.
"Yeah, I gotta go too."
Aeryn watched her hurry out, more relieved than offended. Of them all, D'Argo was the one she could work with best because he would just get on with whatever the task was. No extraneous endless babble. No nosey questions or unwanted bits of advice. Yes. She could work with D'Argo and he would not be offended if she did not talk to him.
* * * * *
He should have taken the sleeping draught he knew he should. He had virtually promised Zhaan but when it came to it he did not. Instead he flushed the preparation down the sluice in the shower room and felt a stab of guilt at what he was doing. It was not that he was not grateful to Zhaan, he was. He was just too restless for oblivion. He was about to go back to his room then stopped. There seemed to be no point. He would not sleep anyway and it would be the first place anyone would come looking for him. He sat on the floor and decided this was as good as anywhere. Wrapping his arms around his knees he sighed and wondered for the millionth time how in hezmana he was going to get Aeryn to talk to him.
* * * * *
Chiana went to Crichton's converted cell but there was no sign of him. She looked at the bed. It did not look as if it had been slept in. She was worried. "Pilot?"
"Yes, Chiana."
"Where's John?"
There was a slight pause. <In the shower room>
"Thanks."
Uncharacteristically Pilot spoke again just as Chiana started to hurry down the corridor. "I think he wishes to be alone."
"Thanks, Pilot."
She could tell by the tone of Pilot's voice that he was wishing he had not told her but it was too bad. She had a friend who was in trouble and one thing Chiana never did was walk out on her friends. She might yell at them, be the biggest pain in the eema in all of the Uncharteds Territories but hey, it was what friends were for. Right? Right.
END PART 1