TITLE: "FOREVER"

AUTHOR: Alison M. DOBELL

FANDOM: "Farscape"

PAIRING: John/Stark

RATING: NC-17. M/M. *SLASH*

STATUS: New.

ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.

FEEDBACK: Welcomed

EMAIL: AlisonMDobell@aol.com

SERIES/SEQUEL: Standalone story.

WEBSITE: http://www.carlajane.50megs.com/Ali00.html

SUMMARY: "Several cycles after the death of Zhaan, Stark returns to Moya to find a number of things have changed."

The usual disclaimers apply. No infringement of copyright is intended.

"FOREVER"
A "Farscape" story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL


It had been too long. After everything else that had happened he was tired of people leaving him. Stark sensed his detatchment. Touched the centre of his pain and loss. Felt his soul aching. He had to explain. Put everything right. Only Crichton had vanished the microt he boarded Moya. He
wondered where Aeryn was. Why the leviathan had the echo of a dark empty place instead of the vibrant hum of a living ship. Unsettled he had to find the human. His search took longer than expected. His friend had become more creative in finding ways to hide. When he at last found him Stark felt nervous. A deep sense of sorrow and hurt cascading from the human and flooding his senses. It was like reaching out to an injured animal.

"John, don't shut me out." He pleaded.

Crichton closed his eyes. He had chosen the backwash chamber because he knew Stark avoided it. Hated it in every way imaginable. That the Banik had followed him into the very bowels of the leviathan said a lot. The problem was that right now he was not listening. Stark moved closer, alarmed by the human's lack of response. He needed to reach him, to touch him, to renew a bond that should never have been broken. Least of all by him.

"I'm sorry I left you."

Silence. Not even eye contact. Stark moved closer. Only an arm's reach away now. Still he would not look up. It hurt Stark but he would not give up. Not now. Not when he had come all the way back just for him.

"John, it's alright. I'm here now. I will never leave you again."

Was that a flicker? He hoped so. Hoped he could fan it into a flame. Blow on the cooling embers before they died completely. He had been such a greebol. A bartantic relnik and a coward. He closed the last few microdench and carefully folded his arms around the hunched figure. Crichton stiffened momentarily but it was too much. He could not hold out any longer and he had missed his friend so much and for so long. To Stark it was like an implosion, the human seeming to collapse in on himself as he gently held him close to his heart, rocking him gently and murmuring softly to him. The words rolling over and through him carrying the tears he could not cry straight to Stark's heart. They sat like that for over an arn. It was not uncomfortable apart from the smell of the place. At last Crichton stirred, raising his head just a little so that he could look at the Banik's face. "Why did you leave me?" He whispered.

Stark swallowed carefully. His own pain still raw in his mind. A tear in the fabric of his soul that not even Crichton could mend. Yet the two had a special bond. "Zhaan was calling me."

His words affected the human deeply for he had loved Zhaan too. A part of him would never be truly complete without her. Stark knew. "What did she say?"

A sad smile dusted his lips. "Many things. Precious things that would mean nothing to anyone else." He gently stroked Crichton's hair. Pleased when he felt his friend begin to relax in his arms. "She is happy, John, though she misses us still. She can move on but I cannot."

"What do you mean?"

Stark kissed his forehead and leaned back to watch Crichton's face, his words gentle and with the slightest hint of slurring. Crichton loved to hear him talk when he was quiet like this. His manic phases tended to put him on edge. "Zhaan was a part of me John, and I was a part of her."

"I know."

Stark stroked his cheek, a finger outlining the planes of his beloved face in a act of remembrance. "I loved her so much."

"She will always be with you, Stark." Said Crichton gently.

His friend smiled sadly. "Sometimes it isn't enough, John."

Crichton fell silent. He knew. Had such darkness in his own soul. A darkness that ate all the light, all the warmth, and all the happiness he had ever known. Now here was Stark lighting a small flame to keep the nightmares at bay. A small flame that he had once carried so proudly, an unassailable symbol of all that it meant to be human. A flame called Hope. "I missed you so much."

It hurt more than dying to see the tears form in his eyes. "Sssh, John, ssssh my love. I'm here, I'm here." He babbled softly.

"But for how long?" Murmurmed Crichton as he choked back tears. "As long as you want."

His answer released the tears. It took a few microts for Crichton to be able to speak. "And if I want forever?"

Stark smiled and kissed the tears from his face. Slowly vanquishing them one by one. He loved the human so much. "Then I will stay forever."

The words made Crichton's heart tip over. All the agony and pain, the emptiness and sorrow, the sense of loss and abandonment, melted away. The echo haunting him at the edges but no longer consuming him whole. "Oh God, Stark, I hope you mean that."

"When have I ever said anything to you that I did not mean?"

Crichton stared at him, a tentative hand lifting to trail over his mask. "Take your God-damn mask off, Stark. I want to see you as you are."

He watched his friend undo the chin strap and remove the mask. The beautiful warmth and vitality of his spirit washing over Crichton and filling him with a joy so intense that he thought he would surely die. "It's singing to me..."

"Yes, yes, singing."

Bathed in light it was impossible to tell who kissed who. It did not matter. As their lips met their souls merged, their thoughts became attuned, their bodies sharing heartbeats. The quickening thuds carrying memories too precious for the spoken word. Crichton could hear Stark in his head. Even his thoughts were quiet, gentle. Every one a soothing balm caressing his fevered mind. The kiss deepened and for a few dozen microts nothing else mattered. Stark broke off reluctantly. "We should go."

"Yeah, you always hated this place."

Stark wrinkled his nose. "It smells bad."

Crichton laughed and kissed him. His lips lingering gently. "Worse than a budong?" He teased.

"Worse than the *belly* of a budong."

"You should know."

"Let's go."

The human did not want to move. Did not want Stark to shield his light from him even for the short journey to their quarters. But this was something the others would never be privvy too. It was private. Precious. Theirs. "Okay."

The decision made they wasted no more time. Stark put his mask back on and Crichton stole a kiss, his hand lingering to touch his cheek, a thousand questions burning in his eyes. Not one of which made it to his lips. But Stark knew. They made it back to Crichton's quarters without bumping into anyone. For the first time in a very long time Crichton pulled across the privacy curtain and made sure Pilot knew he did not want to be disturbed. Once he had assured Pilot he was alright he hastily sat down before he fell down. Stark was alarmed to realise that he was trembling violently. He knelt facing his friend and realised Crichton was even more fragile than he had suspected. His heart went out to him, berating himself for his own selfishness. For leaving him for so long. Crichton shook his head gently, his words breaking up as he spoke. "N.. not your fault, Stark."

Stark hushed him, rested his hands on Crichton's knees as he leant forward to kiss him. Crichton opened his mouth and felt Stark probe him with his tongue, his hands shakily undoing Stark's mask as the Banik's hands stroked up and down the inside of his thighs caressing him through his leathers. Stark resisted the urge to help him with the mask. It kept the human's hands occupied leaving him free to do as he pleased. He pushed Crichton on to his back and lay beside him, the two men languidly stripping each other until they lay naked in each others' arms. Crichton was not sure how much of this was real but if it was an illusion he intended to cling to it with his heart and soul. Stark stroked his face, kissed his eyes and trailed his lips over his cheeks before kissing his mouth, his tongue gently toying with the human's. He felt Crichton's hands exploring him tenderly, such a beautiful touch. Such a glorious and gentle mind. He sailed the curve of his friend's thoughts, enhancing his feelings by heightening his senses. Crichton gasped and felt himself getting too excited, burning as heat slid up his spine. So aroused that his thoughts were fragmenting.

"Stark.... that....is *so*..... intense."

The Banik breathed on him, blowing the warm air over his chest hairs and licking first one nipple then the other while his hands moved lower. One hand massaging his cock as it thickened in his hand while the other hand ran little circles over his hip then traveled on down to stroke and caress his testicles. Crichton writhed at the beautiful touch. God, he felt so hot. Stark was slow, calculating, relentless. Every touch building on the last one, every kiss another step off an ever higher cliff face. God, he was going to come. But Stark knew how to slow him down, keep him strung out on the edge while titilating him physically and mentally so that his mind orgasmed again and again as he built the feeling up in his body just short of instantaneous human combustion. <Oh Lord, we're smoking now> He trembled, body shaking, spine snapping, senses on overload. The Banik held him gently now, coaxing him into a long slow ejaculation while mind blasting him so that he cried in the throes of unbearable ecstasy. He sucked slowly on his cock as he came letting his light sing through the taut wire of his flesh, the Banik's touch ethereal and like fire but gentle, erotic and soul destroying in its' utter intensity.

Stark watched him, pleased to take him so high, so far, so beyond the ordinary senses. He drank his essence, liquid and non-corporeal. Shared with him visions and feelings that left him dazzled and dazed and completely out of his head. He could not do anything but lie replete in his lover's
arms and trust in him as he was loved beyond anything he had ever imagined possible before. Stark brought others with him, back through the light, voices singing in Crichton's mind, touching him and sharing his thoughts, his emotions, until his mind rang with a resonance equal to that of the body in coitus. They were all over him. Not in their tens or their hundreds but thousands. Each touch he was aware of just as he was aware of them in total. From a single instrument to the entire orchestra playing him with such precision they became his very breath. The architect of every vagrant heartbeat and every faltering sigh. His breath was ragged now. His heart labouring. Stark eased him, kissed his soul, lowered the intensity of their joining and loved him so gently. He was sure he had died and been reborn. Nothing else could come close to how he felt in his lover's arms.

As Crichton drifted off to sleep, Stark warmed his body with his hands then gently held him while his mind slid into that of the exhausted human. Carefully seeking out all his hurts and healing them with his love, the light distracting his sleeping spirit in song so that he could find rest and succour and a safe harbour from his nightmares. Stark was back and he had promised to never leave him again. A smile graced his shattered lips. He felt Zhaan touch his soul and rejoiced, his mind reeling in Unity, his whole body and mind on fire. When the ecstasy finally faded he rested in the quiet awe inspiring beauty of Stark's secret place. Under a tree that spangled with stars and the light of truth, he sat content and at peace for the first time in a very long time. He turned and looked at Stark. His friend. His lover. Keeper and protector of his soul. "You said you would stay with me how long?"

Stark smiled gently. Such love in his heart for this man. He did not have to reach out and physically touch him for Crichton to feel him. His presence was enough.

"Forever." Said Stark.

And as Crichton looked up into the Banik's shining face he knew he meant it. In every way that could possibly matter. "Am I dreaming this?" He whispered in awe.

"You are living it, John."

"That isn't an answer." He chided softly.

The Banik smiled and this time when he removed his mask two good eyes stared back at him. A face unmarred by the work of his enemies. A mind whole and vibrant and strong and caring. A world reborn in a loved one's smile.

"It *is* a dream then, isn't it?"

"No, John. This is a vision. This is how I would have looked but for the mask. The gift gave me so much but it also took away who I was."

Crichton reached out a hand and Stark shook his head gently, guiding the hand to rest in his lap.

"No. Use your mind, John, and you can go anywhere, any time. Learn to do that and we will *never* be parted again. Not in life *or* death."

So he reached out and to his amazement he saw Stark whole and unmarked. A handsome young man with a shining presence, a joy that permeated his ebullience to the point where it was sometimes hard to look at his face it contained such love for him. "You are so beautiful." Crichton sighed, his heart struck with wonder.

"In *your* eyes John, in your eyes."

"What do you mean?"

Stark hesitated to tell him.

"Tell me, Stark. I want to know it all. I love you."

He felt Stark's sorrow. His shame. His sadness. His light seemed to flicker. "I have absorbed so much darkness, John. It hurts me, it hurts me..."

"Ssssh, I'm here, Stark. You healed me - remember, my love? Let me heal you."

"No, no, no, NO! Too late, you'll be burnt."

"What could be so terrible that you can't tell me? We've shared Unity Stark. We've shared the most sacred rites of your people. I have had every Banik soul that has ever died inside my mind when we've made love. What could be more incredible than that?"

Stark was crying now. Crichton put his arms around him and rocked him gently, stroking his face, kissing him softly as he murmured endearments to him. "Sssh, just tell me, tell me. Release the burden Stark. Of all people, you deserve most to be free."

He could not tell him without showing him the secrets of the mask. His spirit trembled as he unleashed the duty of every Stykera. The dark secrets of the souls he had healed. Those he had saved and those he had only been able to guide in their last journey. Their reservoirs of evil seeping into his own sweet soul and corrupting his gift of light with darkness. Crichton cried, wished he could take the hurt and the pain and the taint away from his friend. Would die a thousand times over if that would earn him his salvation.

"Don't cry, John. I never meant to show you this."

"I'm glad you did, Stark."

"Why? Why would you want to see so much sorrow and pain and ugliness? So many of the dark sides to people's natures?"

"So I can appreciate the light. The good things. Know how much you have suffered for others. How worthy you are and how unworthy I am. Never be afraid to show me what's in your heart or mind, Stark. If I can help you I will. Even if all I can do is hold your soul as you lay dying."

His words affected the Banik. He cradled a hand against Crichton's cheek. "You would have made a wonderful Banik and a legendary Stykera."

He laughed gently. Flattered but not excessively so. "I would rather be the one you love every night. Feel your arms around me when I wake. Your lips on mine as I fall asleep. I want to be with you all the seasons of your heart and all the cycles of your waking life."

For a microt Stark was silent. Even his thoughts hushed in a kind of reverence. "What did I ever do to deserve your love, John?"

Crichton smiled as he took him gently into his arms. "You loved me, Stark. You reached out your hand and your heart to help me when I had nothing to offer in return. Without asking anything you did that for me."

"I didn't do it for gratitude, John. It's who and what I am."

He nodded. "I know. And loving you is who and what I am now. If you believe nothing else believe that, 'cause I want to grow old and die in your arms."

A single silver tear fell from the Banik's eyes. Crichton leaned in gently and kissed his cheek dry. Hugged him to his heart then looked up through the shining glittering branches of their tree. The stars like miniature suns hanging in the branches, the song of Stark's people like the advent of a new dawn. "I love you, Stark."

"I love you too, John."

"Where do you want to go tomorrow?"

Stark smiled and turned his head to kiss him. "Just reach out with your heart and mind John and you can go anywhere you want."

"And you'll be there with me, Stark?" He asked gently.

"Forever, John."

* * * * *
END