SquidgeWorld Archive

The Switch 13: Respite
A "Farscape" slash story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL
* * * * *

He had no idea exactly where he was but that did not matter. For the first time in many solar days he felt safe. Time no longer had any hold over him. At first he wondered what he was going to do to fill in the arns in some productive way, but he had reckoned without the resourcefulness of his little friends. Once Blue and Artoo had settled him in, other DRDs came to look in and see how he was doing, sometimes bringing him little gifts of food or drink, sometimes bringing him problems to solve. At first he was not sure exactly what they wanted from him, then they were bringing tools for him and he realised they wanted his help but it was done gently and not in a demanding way. Giving him the choice to help or not as he saw fit. They were building up all the equipment he would need to mend the broken or malfunctioning droids. Amused and touched he set to work happy to have found a way to thank them. Carefully checking the circuits, running visual diagnostics aided and abetted by his ever present companion Blue. While the other droids came and went Blue never left him. It did not seem strange to him but was oddly comforting. They had a natural and easy working relationship, the droid peppering Crichton's conversation with a beep here, a trill there, chittering away happily while he worked and the droid watched.

Often parts and pieces of equipement were brought to him by the others before he could vocalise what he needed. As if they were beginning to anticipate his needs. He would look up and smile at them with appreciation and their lightstalks would wave back at him as they thrummed happily. So the balance of his waking arns was filled. The droids giving him light, company and a strange feeling of protection. When he wanted to be quiet he just stopped talking and they would fall silent until he wanted to speak again. No pressure. No expectations. Just a gentle sense of being cared for. They seemed to sense when he wanted to be alone and would retreat and power down or go about other duties until he needed them again. Blue was his only constant. He sighed. Happy and content to let the recent events drift into the past. To a place where they could no longer hurt him.

* * * * *

Zhaan was alarmed to find Chiana crying. Tears spilling down her white cheeks as she rocked herself. The baby fortunately was fast asleep but would not be so for long if the Nebari carried on like this. She barely looked up as Zhaan entered. The Delvian sat next to her and put her arms around her, rocking her gently and speaking softly to her. Chiana buried her face in her shoulder and cried her heart out. Some time later the sobs subsided and she pulled away, wiping her face and eyes with the backs of her hands. "I'm s...sorry, Zhaan."

"There's nothing to apologise for Chiana."

"Why are you here?"

The Delvian tilted her head and looked at her. "I was worried about you child."

Chiana did not tell her she was not a child. Right now she had more important things on her mind than simple semantics. "How could he do this?" She whispered in an agonised voice, filled with pain. "Not just to me but to John?"

"I know, I've been thinking the same thing."

"He says John agreed but I know John. He would not have wanted this. Everyone knows he is crazy about Aeryn....except perhaps Aeryn."

"Aeryn knows." Averred Zhaan.

Chiana took that in, nodded, and hoped it was true. "You know, if Aeryn hadn't kept him at arm's length all this time this wouldn't have happened."

Zhaan shook her head slowly. "You cannot blame this on Aeryn, Chiana."

"I'm not, it's just...." Her voice trailed off and she hung her head. After a microt she lifted her head and looked at Zhaan. "I am, aren't it?"

She looked so miserable. Zhaan longed to comfort her but what could she say? Her eyes drifted to the baby. Chiana swallowed hard, determined not to cry again but it was hard. So hard. "He has John's eyes..." She said softly.

"Chiana..."

"It's okay, Zhaan. I'm not mad at John. Not mad at Rion. But I am mad at D'Argo, and not just angry. I feel hurt, betrayed. I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Why do you have to *do* anything?"

Shock made the Nebari's jaw drop. "Are you kidding? He frelled John! Spent over thirty arns forcing himself on him while I tended his baby like some dumb tralk that needs her eema examining."

"The baby is yours too, Chiana." Zhaan said softly.

Chiana started to cry again. With a sigh Zhaan folded her arms gently around her and rocked her. Silently cursing D'Argo for the pain and distress he was causing.

* * * * *

As for D'Argo he was beyond pain and distress. Anger coursed with unbridled fury through his veins. He could not believe how everyone was turning on him. Having to listen to the sanctimonious words of Rygel was the last straw. He had stormed out of the mess hall and gone stalking along the halls and tiers of the leviathan. The others left him to it, no one making any attempt to stop him or soothe his rage. It was as if they were relieved that he was out of their company, if only for a little while. He did not want to go back to Chiana. Besides. She was not exactly talking to him right now. What he wanted, *really* wanted, was Crichton.

He paused and took several deep breaths. Why were the others so angry with him? Why did they assume that he had acted without the human's consent? True he had used his secretions. That was what they were for. But he had been gentle, loving, coaxing, and the human had stopped resisting. He thought about their words and wondered what Crichton was thinking now. Suddenly it became imperative that he know what he was thinking. "Pilot?"

"Yes, D'Argo?"

"Where is John?"

There was a distinct pause. D'Argo frowned and waited. Hoping he had not gone off somewhere in his module.

"Commander Crichton has turned off his com badge."

"I need to talk to him, Pilot."

"I believe he wants to be alone."

Pilot's answer stunned him. "He said this?"

"Not in words, no."

D'Argo made up his mind. He would go and look for him. Once the others saw how happy he was with the situation the others would back off and stop trying to interfere. The plan calmed him and he went to Crichton's converted cell only to find it empty. He snorted and tried the terrace. It was deserted. He stood a moment and inhaled deeply. Nothing. Not even a faint trace of him hung in the air. He went to the gym next, then to the docking bay but found nothing. Frustrated he started to get angry all over again. "Pilot!" He snapped. "I cannot find him anywhere. You *will* tell me where he is hiding, now, or I will tear this ship apart until I find him!"

He was only barely aware of the distress in Pilot's voice. "That would not be advisable, D'Argo. I would suggest you let Commander Crichton have his privacy and talk to him later."

"Later does not help me *now* Pilot!"

"No," Said Pilot calmly but firmly. "But it may help John."

That silenced him for a microt. Why would going off on his own help Crichton? He was his rakazza, he belonged to his family now. If he had a problem he should come to him and he would help. Wandering off on his own like some child sulking was not the Luxan way. He would have to instruct the human on his behaviour. He realised that Pilot would be of no help to him and neither would the rest of the crew. He was on his own. So be it. He had been alone before, he did not need them. All he needed was Crichton. So D'Argo set about the systematic search of the leviathan, too caught up in his plan to notice that everywhere he went he was being shadowed by DRDs.

* * * * *

Crichton had fallen silent for so long that the growing army of droids were becoming concerned. A ripple of uncertainty reached Blue. A wave of lightstalks silenced them. They powered down and waited. Blue rolled close to where Crichton sat cross legged, deep in thought. He seemed oblivious as the little droid pressed gently against his thigh. Getting no reaction, the droid scanned him slowly with his lightstalks, observing him closely. Taking in many things about his condition from his contact, transmitting his body temperature and lifesigns back to Moya. Pilot picked up the thread of concern and checked too but the human was alright. There was nothing physically wrong with him. Moya told Blue and the little droid relaxed but stayed close to Crichton. Alert for the slightest change in his behaviour.

He was thinking about everything that had happened to him since he had entered the Uncharted Territories. His life more complicated that he could have imagined. Yet despite being chased across the Uncharted Territories by Crais, hunted and tortured by Scorpius for the wormhole technology, berated and belittled by his crew members as some kind of deficient dolt, this place had become home to him. Moya. As he thought about the ship a smile came to his lips. He thought about the crew. His friends. Each one precious to him in their own right. Especially Aeryn. He sighed. Aeryn. Then his thoughts turned to D'Argo. His hands trembled slightly. Blue noticed and rolled over to where his hands lay draped over his knees and rubbed his casing gently against the only hand he could reach, his right hand. Surprised, Crichton looked down and noticed the little droid's lightstalks looking back at him, muted little noises fired softly at him in anxious query as he looked down voicing his concern. He ran his hand over the casing and tried to reassure him. "I'm alright Blue, just thinking."

The little electronic trill sounded like disbelief.

"Really, I am. It's just, such a lot has happened to me and I'm still trying to make sense of it all."

The last time he had done anything like this was when D'Argo had been in the throes of Luxan hyper rage. He sighed more deeply. D'Argo. A tremor ran through him. He was tired but thinking about D'Argo had chased any chance he might have had of being able to sleep. Monitoring him, Blue knew his mood had changed. He was growing unsettled again, unhappy. The droid chittered anxiously at him. Crichton sighed sadly. "I'm sorry, Blue, every time I think I'm getting things back under control I start thinking..." His voice trailed off. He turned his head away. Remembering. His eyes closed momentarily then fluttered open again. "I wish I could sleep but I'm afraid to close my eyes, you know?"

The droid did not know but guessed the reason. A little angry burst of indignation surprised Crichton into peering at him more closely. If the droid had been human he would have been convinced he had just sworn. Despite his mood he chuckled wearily. "You are *not* supposed to be picking up my bad habits. Moya will tan my hide for me if that happens so you'd better behave or you'll get us both in trouble."

The little droid rolled back a couple of microdench. Crichton stretched his arms behind his back and yawned when he felt a sudden sharp prick in his foot. "What the hell was that?" He glared at the DRD. Saw the syringe disappear back into the carapace of his shell. "What was in that syringe? Pilot! What the hell did Blue pump into me?"

Pilot's voice floated calmly back at him without any delay causing him to suspect that he had been monitoring him closely. "Do not be alarmed, it is something Zhaan prepared to help you sleep."

"Sleep?" He looked back down at the little droid. "Oh." He took a moment to take that in. Realising that the droid was just trying to help him. "I'm sorry, I guess I was a little off-base.." Come to think of it he was starting to feel a little sleepy. He yawned and laid down, turning his head to look at the now silent droid. "Thanks, Blue."

He closed his eyes. The droid watched him for a microt then dimmed his lights. As Crichton fell asleep the other droids took up their posts as sentries, a little army of silent watchers. Taking it in turns to watch over him. To keep him safe. Gently Moya increased the heat to add to the human's comfort and let her lifesounds lull him to keep his nightmares at bay.

* * * * *

Aeryn looked around her room, could not settle. Did not feel like a workout and certainly did not feel like talking to anyone. She was deliberately keeping out of D'Argo's way. Afraid that if she saw him she would pull her pulse rifle on him and kill him. Come to think of it, she still might. She started to pace, her mind filled with images she could not block out. Rage momentarily blocking out the pain. It was Pilot's agitated voice that roused her.

"Aeryn!"

"Yes, Pilot? What is it?"

"It's D'Argo. He's tearing up the ship looking for John."

Aeryn swore and changed her mind. She picked up her pulse rifle. She would kill him after all. "Okay Pilot I'm on my way. Where is he?"

She could swear she could hear the beginnings of panic in Pilot's voice. "Heading towards the aortic chamber."

Aeryn paused. "Where's John?"

"In the aortic chamber."

"Oh frell! Get the others Pilot and tell Zhaan to prepare some tranquilizing darts then make her way to join us as soon as possible."

There was an anxious pause. "What are you going to do?"

"First I'm going to stop D'Argo from getting to John. Then, I'm going to try to stop the others from killing him."

Pilot's voice sounded alarmed. "You do not think they would really kill him?"

"Yes, yes I do. But don't worry Pilot I'm not going to let that happen. If anyone's going to kill D'Argo it's going to be me!"

* * * * *

He was dreaming, he had to be. He was on the beach. Lying back on the warm sands, enjoying the feel of a warm breeze as he stared up at the blue sky. He frowned slightly looking for clouds but there were none, the blue was unrelieved and perfect. A sigh escaped his lips, echoed by the gentle lapping of waves on the shore. A momentary shadow made his frown deepen but then it cleared completely as Aeryn sat down next to him, brushing at the sand on her leather pants.

"I've been looking everywhere for you."

He smiled at her. Relaxed and happy. "Well you found me."

Aeryn glanced around. "What is this place?"

"This Aeryn, is the beach."

"The beach?"

"Yeah, you know. Sun, sea, sand and surf."

She shook her head, it meant nothing to her. "What are you doing here?"

"Relaxing. Kicking back. Having a cold one."

She noticed he had a beer in his hand. Where had that come from?

"Want one?"

She nodded. He handed her a bottle, the cap already off. She tipped the bottle cautiously and savoured the contents, Crichton watching her closely. Only sipping his beer when she took another cautious swig. "Well?"

"Well what?"

He tilted his head to see her expression more clearly. "Do you like it?"

"Yes. It is not like fellip nectar. It tastes stronger somehow."

"It's called alcohol, Aeryn. The stuff the peacekeepers took out of their drinks to stop them from getting drunk. You know, stop them having any real fun in life."

"That's not fair..."

"I know Aeryn, just making an observation here. I don't want to argue with you." He paused. "Spoil this."

She looked baffled. "This?"

"Yes. This beautiful quiet place. Don't you like it here, Aeryn?"

She was not sure what to say. She was only here because he was here. What else was there to like? She realised he was still waiting for a response and because he liked being here so much she said what she thought he wanted to here. "Yes. Yes I like it, John. Very much."

He smiled. So broad, so wide, so full of simple joy that she smiled back and for one perfect microt her words really were true. Then something happened to shake the sky. It was falling. The sand turned red, the sea flooded the sands and washed a bright frothy red that reminded him of blood. The blue sky cried with a voice that broke his heart in two, the sound of innocence being ripped from its' cradle. Aeryn was gone. The sea. The sand. The surf. The sun. All gone. Only the weeping sky ripping his soul out of his body was left making his nightmare real.



END