TITLE: "NIGHTMARES"

AUTHOR: Alison M. DOBELL

FANDOM: "Farscape"

PAIRING: JOHN/AERYN, JOHN/SCORPIUS

RATING: NC-17

STATUS: New.

ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.

FEEDBACK: Welcomed

SERIES/SEQUEL: First in 'The Fragmented Universe' Series

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


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


He was so damn tired. Crichton scrubbed his hands across his face. Rubbed his eyes. The maintenance work was finished for the day but they still had about three more solar days of routine repairs to finish before Moya was in tip-top condition again. He glanced at his little shadows. The DRDs followed him around like puppies, waiting on a sign or word from him to hum into life or hand him a tool. He had got used to having them around. Constant companions who never nagged or criticised him. Listening to his ruminations, his outspoken wishes and dreams of home. The exploration of topics too sensitive to be spoken within earshot of a certain ex-Peace Keeper without risking injury or even death. He smiled to himself and began to hum. The DRDs accompanied him out of the ductwork and then began to split up, to
go their seperate ways. Crichton gave them a wave. "Thanks guys! Same time tomorrow. And hey, let's do lunch sometime."

He looked down. And then there was one. His smile was affectionate. Blue. When all the others were busy elsewhere it was always Blue who shadowed his steps, watched over him, offered his sage wisdom in the beeps and electronic twitters of his kind. His light stalks moving thoughtfully as he surveyed the human, taking in as much information as he could to reassure himself, Pilot and Moya that he really was alright. Crichton knew what they were worried about. Even shared some of their concern. But Harvey was no longer the enemy as far as he was concerned and he had gone way passed sanity himself. In some crazy way Harvey had kept him sane. Now that the neural clone was gone he found himself missing him. More than he knew how to explain. Oddly enough he felt that Blue understood. He wondered why that was.

When he turned towards the mess hall Blue hung back and rolled into the shadows outside to wait for him. Crichton wished the others could get off their superior horses long enough to give the little guys a break but when you spent all your life ignoring the little biomechanoids it was hard to suddenly share the viewpoint that they had a level of sentience, albeit on a more basic level than the rest of them. Or was that just another unfounded assumption he was making? Frell. He was getting as bad as them. He shook
his head. Would have apologised to Blue but the little fellow had already made himself scarce. He stepped into the mess hall and flashed a weary smile at his crew mates. They were all there. At least in the physical sense. He could not vouch for their mental state though.

D'Argo and Chiana were sharing foodcubes. The Luxan looked up and wrinkled his nose at him. He was still wearing the mucky t-shirt and his face and hands were filthy. "You smell like dren! You *look* like dren. Go and wash, John. With you standing there my food cubes taste of your stench."

He frowned and looked down at himself. Not a pretty sight. But hey, no one was perfect. Right? He flashed Chiana a smile and she grinned back then wrinkled her nose and waved a hand in front of her face. He looked across at Aeryn, saw the *don't you dare stand anywhere near me while you smell and look like that* look on her face. Only Rygel took no notice but that was no doubt because he was cramming food in his mouth so fast it looked like he was trying to fill all three stomachs at the same time. Did the little Hynerian waste disposal never chew before he swallowed? He held up his hands in defeat. "Okay, okay, I'll go shower. Just don't eat everything while I'm gone."

Sighs of relief echoed in his ears as he turned around and made for the shower. He heard the little rattle and hum as he picked up his shadow. He tilted his head to look down at Blue, one light stalk waving expectantly back up at him. He shook his head and gave a little sigh. "Everyone's a comedian, Blue."

He took his time in the shower. Enjoying the warmth and the lather from Zhaan's foaming soaps. He had no idea what she had put in them but it made his muscles feel wonderfully relaxed and cleared his head. He closed his eyes and let the water slosh over him. A sharp jolt went through him, pricking his skin and making him jerk. His eyes reluctantly fluttered open. He felt numb. Cold despite the warm water rushing over his face and chest. His face? Slowly his vision cleared and he realised he was lying on the floor. He groaned, the pain in his head gripping him like a vice and sending agonising waves of nausea through him. He had blacked out. Again. How long before it would happen when one of the others were around? Part of him was frightened, wanted to share his fear, seek the help of his friends. Another part of him was horrified at the very thought of them finding out. He was vulnerable enough without telling them about this too. Bad enough that they knew he was still having nightmares. They would have forty fits if they found out what the nightmares were about. Another prick made him focus on sitting up. It was hard to do, his limbs heavy and working against him but pure bloody mindedness won out in the end and he finally managed to prop
himself into a sitting position, one leg folded under him, the other stuck out for support and comfort. Blue was waving his light stalks anxiously, his beeps muted with concern.

"Sorry Blue," He slurred slightly. "Didn't mean to frighten you."

The little DRD started to twitter energetically at him, sounding for all the world as if he was telling him off. Crichton patted his curved shell. His voice tired, his tone contrite. "Just give me a microt here, okay pal?"

* * * * *

Aeryn finished her meal in silence. Her frown deepening as the others drifted out of the mess hall. Still he had not returned. Losing patience she got up and went to find him. This was the third time this weeken. When she got to his cell she was surprised to see Crichton flopped out on his bed. He looked so innocent in sleep. As if the cycles in the Uncharted Territories had not marked and changed him but Aeryn knew different. He lay sprawled on his stomach not a stitch of clothing on him. Too exhausted to climb into bed, settling for collapsing on top of it. Not that Aeryn did not appreciate the view. After all it was the sleep cycle and that was what he was supposed to be doing. A smile touched her lips. She should leave him,
let him sleep, but he looked so adorable. Inviting. And he smelt so good. She did not notice the little droid sitting under the bed, his light stalks dimmed to avoid detection.

She came quietly into his room and shut the door, the privacy curtain in place. Dimmed the lights and took off her boots so she could pad over to him without making a noise. Blue shut his lightstalks off completely and rolled a little further under the bed. Aeryn stood for several microts just looking down at him. Noticing his damp ruffled hair and running her eyes down his body. She felt the stirrings of lust. The desire to touch him, to gently love him and wake him with a slow building passion too strong to resist. She smiled and undressed then knelt beside the bed. His face was towards the wall, away from her. She noted how his hair curled slightly at the nape of his neck, still wet and shining. Lightly she ran a hand over his cooling skin watching the slow involuntary shudder that trembled down his spine chasing the touch of her hand like an echo. Aeryn licked her lips slowly, memories playing out in her mind as she gently kissed the back of his neck, lapping at his skin with her tongue. He did not stir. Her smile grew. She kissed and sucked his neck gently, savouring the taste of him before running her tongue slowly down his spine. A slow moan crept out of his throat and she touched him in sweeping arcs, her fingers dancing so lightly over his skin. Aeryn moved up to lick his ear, gently teasing her wet tongue in the outer shell as her hands stroked his back, the broad shoulders, the muscles. He twitched in his sleep. She slid her tongue into his ear canal and gently
drew her fingers up his sides so that the shiver ripped right through him and he shook his head, turning in his sleep to flop onto his back.

Her breath caught at the sight of him laid out oblivious to her scrutiny. Too shattered to rouse at her feather light touches. He must really be tired. Exhausted even. Aeryn considered letting him sleep but she was
getting aroused now. Her hand drifted over his chest, enjoying the feel of his hair beneath her questing fingers. He was so beautiful. And she loved him so much. She leaned forward and licked his nipples, her hand drifting down from his chest across his abdomen and stomach. Going south, always south while she gently loved him.

* * * * *

He was dreaming. Or rather having a nightmare to end all nightmares. He was in the Aurora Chair again but this time he was naked, staked out like a sacrifice. A lamb to the frelling slaughter. He wanted to shut his eyes, block out the sight of Scorpius gloating. The half-Scarran abomination drew a gloved finger down the side of his face, slid it slowly down his exposed throat making him shudder. He savoured the hate shining back at him from Crichton's tortured eyes. "You should be more...accommodating, John."

"Frell you!"

He smiled and tilted his face at his victim. Considering his words. His voice mild and oily, his touch making Crichton's flesh crawl. "I didn't know you felt that way about me, John."

Crichton shuddered again, cursing himself for innocently invoking the wrong images in that perverted abomination's head. Perspiration beaded on his face and neck. Scorpius smiled and began to lick the sweat off his face as he inhaled the sweet perfume of his fear, the horror in the human's eyes making it even more delicious.

"Get. The. Hell. OFF. Me!"

"John, John, relax." His fingers drifted, skimming his naked body and ouching him all over while those hard emotionless eyes bored into him watching his every reaction. Noting where the stimulus was strongest and the touches that angered him most. "Interesting..." He watched the human organ inflate in his hand as he squeezed and massaged him into an unwanted erection. Seemingly fascinated by the ease with which he could make his body respond to him.

Crichton tensed further as his tormentor's fingers prodded, exploring him. He tried to hang on to a shred of self control. His words spat out through gritted teeth. Hate was his only punctuation. "What's up Scorpy?
All the girls run off before you got a chance to perform?"

A flash of anger sparked in the half-Scarran's eyes, his voice darkened into an echo of evil. "Have a care John Crichton, I can rip you apart from head to toe with my bare hands!"

"Promises, promises. You are *such* a tease..."

Scorpius growled low and deep, a horrible feral sound. Crichton felt the probing fingers stroke him between his legs. One hand continued to stroke and massage his penis while the other continued an intimate examination as if searching for something. It made him wonder about the abomination's own anatomy underneath his protective leather suit. He was horrified, repulsed, angered to the point of indescribable rage and humiliated beyond belief. He tried to move out of the way of those painfully probing fingers but he was
trapped. No way out of this nightmare. Hated the smile that slid over Scorpius's face when he found the opening. "Hmmm, what's this?"

"Get your hands off me!"

He inserted a curious finger. Crichton arched his back, straining violently against the restraints but there was no escape. No hiding place. Tears of frustration, anger and horror welled up in his eyes trapping his
distress behind glass. Scorpius was enjoying himself, taking him dry. His smile became a leer. "You know what I want, John." He urged smoothly, his finger sliding in and out, a little deeper penetration each time. The leather gloves a painful intrusion.

His victim tried to squirm but Scorpius read his body too well, anticipated which way he would move and took advantage by going even deeper and riding his body with his hand. He could feel everything. The leather now rubbing against the tight ring of muscle, another finger joining the first to make the breach wider. It was painful in more ways than one, his head filling with obscene images that made him cry out, beg, plead for the monster to stop. Tears spilled down his face. <Oh God, Oh God, don't let the sick son of a bitch rape me> Scorpius kept his voice mild, conversational almost. The maddening calm of his voice just made what he was doing even more horrific to Crichton. "The wormhole technology, John."

His breath was coming in pained gasps now. A third finger was inserted and penetration now pressed and stroked up against his gland making him jerk and tremble uncontrollably. The wiring was all wrong but the body reacted automatically as it would to any stimulus. It did not differentiate between male or female. Angel or monster. Good and evil were no respecter of hormones. He was crying openly now, not caring how weak Scorpius thought him. He could not bear the indignity, the obscenity of what was being done to him.

* * * * *

Aeryn was upset to see tears running down Crichton's face. She eased back and frowned with concern. Cradled his tormented face in her hands and spoke to him. "John! John, wake up! You're having a nightmare."

If anything he just seemed to be getting worse. Fear touched her. What had she done? What had she sparked off in him to get this reaction? She shook him. Hard. Not caring if she frightened the yotz out of him just so long as he woke up. He shuddered, gave an agonised cry that tore at her heart and woke with shudder. Eyes wide and terrified. Unfocused, unseeing. Misery his only companion. Aeryn put her arms around him, tears in her eyes. A mute shocked apology. "John, I'm so sorry, so sorry."

He was confused. Puzzled. Aeryn? What was Aeryn doing here? Where was Scorpius? His heart was beating so heavily in his breast that each thud hurt. It was painful drawing breath. Aeryn pulled back and framed his face in her hands, saw the naked terror staring back at her and swallowed with difficulty. How long had he been like this? Suffering nightmares so terrifying he could only shake them off with difficulty on waking?

"John? Can you hear me?"

He tried to focus on her face. Her voice. "Aeryn?" His voice shook.

She nodded, stroked his cheek gently as she spoke to him. As if he were a child. "Yes, I'm here."

"W...what are you doing here?"

It was not the reaction she wanted but after witnessing his nightmare she could not blame him. At least he knew who she was. "When you didn't come back from your shower I came to see what was wrong."

<Oh God, Oh God, how much did she see? How much did she know?> "I was having a nightmare, Aeryn."

He tried to sound calm. Like it was no big deal. She knew him better than that. Saw through the flimsy veil he tried to hide behind. "I know." She said softly. "Tell me about it."

<No, no, no, no, NO! Some terrors were not best shared. You do not want to go there, Aeryn, believe me>

When he did not answer she tried again. "John? I think we should talk about this."

He could not stop crying. She wrapped her arms around him and rocked him. He clung to her as if his very life depended on it. Maybe not his life but certainly his sanity.

"John?"

His voice was muffled by her shoulder but she could hear the tears in it. The strain of having to talk when all he wanted to do was run away. Forget. "I don't want to talk about it, Aeryn."

"Some day you'll have to." She said gently. Like a doctor breaking bad news.

"Some day, Aeryn." He paused for a few microts. "But not today."

She stroked his back, holding him as if he were no weight in her arms at all. "Not today." She agreed quietly.

He began to relax then. Exhaustion taking over. He was so frelling tired. Aeryn got up and pulled the covers back, coaxing him to lie down again. She climbed in beside him and wrapped her arms and the covers around him. He was trembling, afraid to shut his eyes. Afraid to tell her what was wrong. She kissed his eyes, his nose, his lips. The trembling got worse not better. Her actions distressing him. Alarmed she tightened her arms around him. "Try to sleep, John."

He wanted to laugh. Sleep? She *had* to be kidding. After ten rounds with a Scorpius intent on raping him? "I don't know if I can sleep, Aeryn."

"Perhaps if you talked about it...?"

He shook his head. The words trapped in his throat like shards of broken glass.

"Then we won't talk about it. Okay?"

He nodded.

His silence troubled her. She could feel the tension in him and decided she would do for him what he did for her. She would talk and he would listen. And. If she was very lucky and did it right he would finally relax and fall asleep. So Aeryn talked. Told him about her days as a Peace Keeper. Her unit. What it meant to be a member of Pleisar Regiment. The honour. The joy of being among the best of the best. She felt him start to relax and resisted the urge to stop talking. For once this was not about her. It was about him. If he would not tell her what was wrong then she would stay close. Be there when he was ready. Wait out the obstinacy of his fear until she could coax him to bring his nightmares out into the open where she could see them. Then she would rip the thing that was terrifying him to pieces and hand him back his sanity on a plate. Until then she would be here. Never more than an arm's length away from him. She had walked away from him so many times in the past. Left him to deal with untold traumas on his own. This was one of the few times she got to see the cost he bore, the evidence of the damage she could not see. Aeryn Sun had no intention of leaving him to face any more demons alone. She loved him. It was time she proved it to him for once and for all.

* * * * *

Rygel was worried. He had heard the screams then the human crying. What the hezmana was wrong with him? It was happening too often and he did not like it. Crichton was more often than not red eyed and listless when he saw him. Kept himself busy doing jobs the others did not want to do. No wonder none of them were complaining. They left him to get over it himself, pretending nothing was amiss but the Hynerian thought they were wrong. Unintentionally cruel. It was obvious the human was suffering but Crichton being Crichton he did not inflict his own worries on others. Too frelling noble for his own good. The Dominar had spent many cycles being tortured on the Zelbinion. Had a sympathy with Crichton's position even if he did hide his concern behind a crusty exterior. He knew the human saw through him but the others didn't. They saw only what they expected to see. This sleep cycle he became so alarmed he got up and went to see if the human was alright. To his surprise Aeryn was with Crichton, holding him in her arms as he wept. Rygel was careful not to be seen, the privacy curtain being more of a polite warning for visitors to keep their distance rather than an effective barrier to curious eyes.

He quietly made his way back to his own cell but could not settle. The only good thing to come out of it was that Aeryn was with Crichton. Perhaps it would take something of this magnitude to snap her out of her usual self absorption? If it did then all well and good. It was the only benefit Rygel could see.

* * * * *

He woke with a crick in his neck feeling strangely rested. A rare thing these days. He rolled onto his side and felt warmth against him. He opened a wary eye and trapped a breath. Aeryn. He tried to clear his fog filled brain and vaguely remembered her coming to him in the sleep cycle. He must have had an even worse nightmare than last time. He groaned inwardly, careful not to move and wake her but some instinct seemed to alert her that he was awake. She stirred and opened her eyes, steady dark orbs that were fathomless depths sucking him in. Willingly he would drown in them. She gave him a steady look. That almost amused him. <What? Think you can see the damage from there? Look again Aeryn. My torturer did good work. See? Not a frelling scratch> He wanted to laugh but knew it would come out all wrong. The hysterial cries of a madman. She tried a smile on for size. "Hey!"

"Hey!"

She rolled towards him, the concern in her eyes making his breath catch. He touched her hair, his eyes never leaving hers. Half afraid that if he moved too quickly she would vanish. He did not want to find out he was only imagining her presence. Saw the pain in her eyes and wondered if he was simply looking at his own reflection. For some reason the words of the Scottish poet Andrew Lang scrolled through his fragmented brain:

*Who wins his love shall lose her,
Who loses her shall gain...
He loses her who gains her,
Who watches day by day,
The dust of time that stains her,
The griefs that leave her gray...*

Concern settled like wary watch dogs in Aeryn's eyes. "Are you okay, John?"

He managed to swallow. Almost made it seem normal. Almost. "Yeah, sure. Thanks."

"What for?"

"Being here for me."

He sounded so lost. So grateful for the crumbs that fell unthinking from her table that she wanted to cry. Her conscience pricked her. Something that happened rarely. Regret was not the Peace Keeper way but it had become hers. The day she realised that she could become *more*. It had cost her but nowhere near as much as it had cost John.

* * * * *
END