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So Far Away

Summary:

What happened, what happened afterward, and Aeryn's reactions to all of it.

Work Text:

So Far Away
by Rebecca Helton
story copyright 1999
* * * * *

He was gone. Completely, totally, irrevocably gone. Dead.

It had been Crais' last act, and the bastard had died with a smile on his face at realizing his vendetta against John Crichton. His revenge had been quickly done, but slowly drawn out. Aeryn could remember every microsecond of it.

It was supposed to have been a routine stop at a commerce planet, and nothing was supposed to have happened. There were no Peacekeeper forces in the area, and there was certainly nothing on the planet that looked malicious. But Moya's sensors hadn't been able to pick up the personal craft that Crais was in, and he had slipped onto the planet without their knowledge.

John, Aeryn, Zhaan and D'Argo had just finished bartering for more food, and were carrying the packages back to the transport pod, which they had left on the outskirts of the town they were in. Crais had come up on them from out of nowhere, a maniacal expression permeating every visible cell of his body. The three years since his brother had died in the accidental run-in with the Farscape 1 had taken their toll on the Peacekeeper, and a slight mental instability had turned into full-fledged insanity.

Aeryn saw the small, shiny dagger in Crais' hand. Before any of them could react, the dagger entered John's body and then came out again, this time a dull red.

John collapsed onto the ground, clutching his stomach and groaning in pain. Crais immediately tried to stab him again, but Aeryn and D'Argo were faster, and jointly threw him to the ground. The
ferocity with which they did so, as well as the growl issuing from D'Argo's throat, would have scared any sane person into silence. Not Crais. He kept muttering, "Tauvo...Crichton...Tauvo..." an oblivious smile on his face.

Something changed inside Aeryn then. She lost a part of herself never to be regained. While she had known that Crais was out for vengeance, and wouldn't stop until either he or Crichton were dead, somewhere--somewhere deep inside the farthest reaches of her subconscious--she hadn't thought he could do it. She had been sure that a man formerly of reason such as Crais could not go through with what he had just done. Apparently, she was wrong.

She couldn't look at him any longer. Twisting quickly, she ran the few steps to where her husband lay whimpering on the ground. "John..." she murmured fearfully. His eyes were half-closed, and
blood was dribbling from one corner of his mouth. "It--it will be all right." She tried to sound reassuring. She grabbed his hand and held on tightly, uncaring that she was probably causing bruises.

A blue form appeared on the other side of John's body. Zhaan placed two hands on John's face, then moved them to his neck. Her eyes darted between his face and the large wound on his abdomen. The grey shirt he was wearing had a large, dark stain on it now, and the stain was still growing visibly.

After what felt like an eternity, Zhaan gently touched Aeryn's shoulder. Apprehensively, Aeryn met the Delvian's eyes, and her heart fell to the bottom of the deepest ocean on the planet. She didn't even need to hear Zhaan's, "There's nothing I can do," knowing that to be the case before the words were ever uttered.

Aeryn's vision blurred. "You have to do something," she insisted. "He can't die!" Her voice rose on the last word.

Zhaan opened her mouth to say something, but stopped before any sound came out. Shaking her head, she kissed her hand and then pressed it to John's temple. She murmured something in Delvian, then stood up and walked to D'Argo.

Aeryn could hardly speak. She could barely see. "John, don't die, please," she whispered. "I need...you..." her voice cracked, and she fell silent, holding back the sobs already wracking her insides.

She saw him focus on her through half-lidded eyes. "Aeryn," he wheezed, his voice faint. "Aeryn, I love you..."

She felt tears start to course down her face. "I love you, John...please don't leave..."

He convulsed once, still staring at her, then his eyes slowly closed, completely this time. Aeryn shook him hard in an attempt to get him to open his eyes again. He was limp under her hands, and nothing she did could bring him back to life.

The tears started to come more quickly, even as she willed them to go away. "No, John...no...."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
When the evening falls and the daylight is fading,
from within me calls, could it be I am sleeping?
for a moment I stray, then it holds me completely.
close to home - I cannot say,
close to home, feeling so far away.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"John!"

Gasping and choking, Captain Aeryn Sun came awake, struggling to a sitting position. After a few seconds of heavy, frantic breathing, she managed to calm down enough to start convincing herself that she had just had a nightmare.

There was a sour taste in her mouth. She hated this particular nightmare. It was always so vivid, every detail sharp and real...and etched into her memory forever.

*Deep breaths, Aeryn, deep breaths. Don't have a heart attack.* Dammit, even her thoughts sounded like John. She had picked up many of his colloquialisms, and had been starting to get an idea of how to form words with his accent before he...died. She had once thought his words amusing. Now, they only caused her pain.

She remembered what had happened moments after John had died. She could have sat by his side crying for eternity, but she knew Crais was still alive. That he was living and John was not was a situation that had to be rectified. She stood up and walked over to where D'Argo and Zhaan were guarding the man and took the bloody dagger from D'Argo's hand. She gripped the handle strongly and securely. Not even looking at Crais before doing so, she bent down, sliced the dagger across his neck, and was standing upright in less than five seconds. She didn't feel anything except a vague sense of accomplishment at doing what needed to be done.

It was almost time for her to get up anyway. Calmer now, Aeryn stood up, flipping a switch and flooding the room with light. She blinked, her eyes needing time to adjust to the brightness. She made her way to the bathroom.

After splashing some water on her face, Aeryn felt up to facing the day. She put on her uniform and tied her hair back into a braid, then went to the computer terminal present at the far end of her cramped quarters and called up the messages she had received overnight.

"To: Captain Aeryn Sun." Each time she saw the subject line, she was at first surprised, then her emotions became jumbled, and she didn't want to think about it anymore. Right after John had been killed, a little over a year ago, she had been offered reinstatement in the Peacekeepers, a promotion to captain, and her name was cleared of any "irreversible contamination."

At first she hadn't even considered taking it. But then the Council had told her about the changes that had taken place in the four years since she'd escaped from her "happy little Peacekeeper box"--changes such as more personal freedoms for all the officers (within reason, of course), which meant that extended contact with unclassified alien lifeforms didn't automatically make one irreversibly contaminated. The Peacekeepers also hadn't had much luck lately in snaring Leviathans, and had finally decided to use only their own, fully-mechanical ships. And they wanted her to help watch out for other maniacs like Crais, since she knew exactly what they were capable of and what lengths they could go to in order to do something.

When she heard that D'Argo, Zhaan and Rygel had been pardoned for their "crimes," she had made a snap decision and accepted the recommission. Now she was in charge of Zalbion Station, a major port near the edge of the Uncharted Territories. It was a year ago that she had said her final goodbyes to Pilot, D'Argo Rygel, Zhaan and even Chiana, and while she received occasional messages from them, they hadn't really kept in contact.

A particular message caught her eye. It was the list of ships that were requesting permission to dock at the station and awaited her word of approval. She thought she had seen...yes, she had seen the name "Moya" on there, and the category of vessel was Leviathan. She looked for a crew manifest. There was no one listed, but she knew there would be one person on there whom she suddenly wanted to talk to very much.

Hurriedly, she approved the vessel to dock.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As I walk the room there before me a shadow
from another world, where no other can follow.
carry me to my own, to where I can cross over...
close to home - I cannot say,
close to home, feeling so far away.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Using a captain's prerogative, she had boarded Moya--alone--as soon as the ship docked. Now she was walking slowly along the halls, remembering her four years as a passenger and fugitive aboard the living ship. The golden-tan walls were exactly as she remembered them, as was the rest of the ship. The only thing missing was the sound of life--their seven lives together--going on. The corridors and rooms were eerily silent, a silence so loud that she could hear it beating against her eardrums. Everything seemed empty.

Eventually she came upon Pilot's chamber. She had rarely seen a more welcome sight than that of Pilot working away at the controls of his console, his four arms moving in synch with each other. She just stood at the entrance to the chamber for a few moments watching him as he worked. If she strained, she could see what panels he was pressing; her implanted DNA gave her some idea of what he was doing with them.

Finally, she said, "Pilot. It's good to see you."

He swiveled his head toward her. "And you, Aeryn Sun." He inclined his head slightly.

She stepped closer, resting her hands on the edge of his console. "What brings you and Moya here?"

"We're transporting hexacrystals for the Akierahns," Pilot replied. She nodded, but gave no verbal response, instead looking down at the collection of panels and buttons in front of her.

Pilot regarded the Sebacean unblinkingly. "Is something the matter, Captain Sun?"

She looked up, shaking her head a little to clear it. "What? Oh. Not really. Just...remembering."

Pilot nodded slowly, sagely. "I understand, Aeryn Sun."

"Do you really, Pilot?"

Pilot understood that the question was rhetorical, and didn't answer. He saw a play of emotions work its way across Aeryn's face, and wondered exactly what the Peacekeeper was thinking.

Aeryn stared at the console in front of her, the backwards perspective slightly disconcerting at first. Soon, the controls blurred and ran together, and then faded from view entirely as she lost herself in an ocean of memories and thoughts.

For four years, this ship had been her home. She had never felt more at peace than in her time on Moya, with John and the others. It was here that she had first learned how to be more than what she was born as, more than what her superiors taught her to be. Here, she had learned how to care about others as friends, not just comrades, and here she had found out what was beyond the sterile grey walls of a command carrier.

Here, she had learned how to love someone with all her heart, and had learned what that kind of love felt in return. That someone had been John Crichton.

Had been. She still hadn't dealt with those two little words. She didn't know how; her training and her experiences afterward had never prepared her for this all-consuming grief, so thick that it was like a physical pain in her body, a pain that she could not heal.

She felt a tear almost escape her eye, and with force of will held it back. She had gotten good at that over the past year. Lately, she had only very rarely felt the drowning sadness come over her, but this ill-planned visit to Moya had shredded the walls she had built around her sorrow.

It took her a moment to regain her composure. When she did, she looked up at Pilot, finding it hard to meet his concerned gaze. "It was nice seeing you, Pilot," she said, more quietly than usual. "Do you or Moya mind if I walk around for a bit?"

He raised what passed for eyebrows on his face. "Of course not, Aeryn Sun. Take all the time you need."

"Thank you, Pilot." They nodded at each other again, and she turned, quickly leaving the chamber. Pilot watched her retreating form until the doors closed behind her, only turning back to the panels in front of him after many moments had passed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Forever searching; never right, I am lost
in oceans of night. Forever
hoping I can find memories,
those memories I left behind.
Even though I leave will I go on believing
that this time is real - am I lost in this feeling?
Like a child passing through, never knowing the reason.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She wasn't sure why she went to the Terrace, but that was where she ended up. Moya was docked so that the sweep of the open starfield did not include the station, and for that, Aeryn was glad. Just for a moment, maybe she could imagine that it was a year or two ago, that they were all still on Moya...and that John was still alive. The stars hadn't changed since then.

Aeryn wasn't sure how long she stood on the Terrace, her hands behind her ramrod-straight back, feet slightly apart in a relaxed military posture. It was a comfortable position, to her, at least.

The more she stared out at the stars, the more they seemed to swim, to undulate on invisible waves. She wondered if she, too, could swim with the stars, swim back to the past like a fish that was swimming upstream.

*Quit living in the past. This is the present. This is where you belong.*

He'd said that once, too, she realized, pinpricks of pain dotting her heart again. He'd said so many things in their four years together, three as husband and wife. His words had made up part of her life, spun a comfortable cocoon that had kept her safe for so long. *He* was part of her life, and no matter how much she wanted to forget it all, he would remain part of her forever.

No matter how much she wished, he would only remain alive in her heart and her memory.

The stars blurred, swirling into something unrecognizable as she drew back into herself. She tried to remember his face as he'd said the words she thought, but the image was as blurred as what she was seeing with her real eyes.

*No! I can't be forgetting!* Yet his image was slipping away from her, just as sand slid through open fingers, slowly but irreversibly. She had come to Moya to remember, not to forget, yet it seemed as if the very walls were taking bits of her memories away from her.

"Captain Sun?"

Pilot's voice. A distraction. Aeryn brought herself back to reality and allowed her senses to function again. "Yes?" She was fiercely proud of the fact that her voice sounded strong and did not crack.

"Are you all right? You've been on the Terrace for over an arn now."

Had it been that long? It had only felt like a few moments. "I'm fine, Pilot. I'm almost ready to go."

"Take your time. We have plenty of it."

She didn't respond.

His image was coalescing in her mind again, and her fear and anger at herself for forgetting was abating. She couldn't picture all of his many expressions anymore, but the ones she remembered would have to do.

His face appeared in the stars she watched. For a moment she stared at the smiling image, then she closed her eyes. Before she could open her eyes and be pulled into spending another arn on the Terrace, she turned and started to walk away.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I am home - I know the way.
I am home - feeling oh, so far away.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She was back on Zalbion Station, and Moya had left arns ago. After her one visit, she hadn't even communicated with Pilot again, and the thought of stepping onto Moya's deckplates once more never crossed her mind. She had had quite enough of the past, and wanted to stay where she was now, where the sadness and the memories weren't so overpowering.

Was she home? Was she really where she wanted to be? John had once said that home wasn't a place, it was people, people you loved. Well, she couldn't be with the one person in the universe she had been able to give her heart to. So where did that leave her?

*Nowhere.*

No, the station was somewhere. Walls like these had been her home for all the years before she got captured in Moya's Starburst. She had trained to be a Peacekeeper, had grown up in the Peacekeeper forces, and they were her home.

Former home, perhaps, Aeryn reflected. With all that she knew, all that she had experienced, they couldn't be her home now. Now...now she wasn't sure where home was. She wasn't sure if she even had a home anymore. Maybe she had allowed herself to love too deeply to ever be happy again once that love was taken away from her. Maybe she would never find true peace again.

And then again, maybe she would. Maybe she would be at rest when she saw John again, if what he said about the light and seeing family and friends again was true. Home was a very fluid concept.

 

** The End **