TITLE: "DESCENT INTO DARKNESS"

AUTHOR: Alison M. DOBELL

FANDOM: "Farscape"

PAIRING: No specific pairing

RATING: NC-17 M/F

STATUS: New.

ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.

FEEDBACK: Welcomed

EMAIL: AlisonMDobell@aol.com

SERIES/SEQUEL: SEQUEL to "FRAGMENTS OF LIGHT"

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

SUMMARY: "When his nightmares become reality, Crichton is left being consumed by
an evil beyond his control."

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

"DESCENT INTO DARKNESS"
A "Farscape" story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL


She took him to the vat. It was taller than he was and almost as wide in diameter. Steps led up to it and pipes wound round it and overhead. He did not ask its' original purpose, needing only to know that it had been adapted for his personal use. The luxury of moisture on an icebound world was an irony he appreciated but knew was lost on her. Ry would have laughed in her harsh mercy and he would have delighted to hear it. This one, Onyi, was a road less traveled. Her grit yet to be smoothed into something he could use with ease. Yet she showed some sensitivity which was rare for rezni. Had Ry taught her? He wondered as he watched her balance the controls and fill the tub. The water had been cleansed many times. No doubt he had bathed in this same water dozens of times but he did not care. It was strange the ways of this land but he was used to strange. Adaptation had become his specialty. When the vat was three quarters full she shut off the valve and waited. He climbed the ladder carefully, hiding the pain it caused him. At the top a narrow platform ran all around the circumference. He knelt and dipped his hand into the water, seemingly fascinated to see the serivik shoal gliding through it. She had carried out his instructions exactly right down to the correct degree of water temperature.

"I will enter first."

She nodded. Waited. Suddenly anxious. Wondering what she would see. Whether the things she had heard whispered were true. He had a strangely majestic grace once he slipped into the water. The buoyancy relaxing him even as the serivik swam closer to suckle at the encrusted tartankan shells. He closed his eyes a microt, the stir of tiny sharp teeth cleaning the shells until one by one they let go of him and drifted free. Onyi's mouth dropped open slowly, seeing his raw abused body for the first time. Even damaged as it was she could see the power of the body, the natural grace that he now reclaimed as if a birthright. Still his face was hidden from her. He gestured with his right hand and slowly she stepped over the ledge and lowered herself into the warm water. It felt weird. Not so much an extravance as a madness to waste so much moisture simply to feel the water upon your skin. Or was this how he healed? She could not tell. The serivik nipped at his pale flesh briefly but quickly lost interest and returned to cleaning the debris off the mollusks. She swam to him and was pleased when he allowed her to touch him. Explore his revealed body with her gentle questing hands.

"You are brave, Onyi."

His words surprised her. "How so?"

"To be willing to give yourself to a monster is no easy thing."

She snorted derisively. "Are you any more a monster than I am?"

He touched the ribbons of her face. The dead skin hanging like a foul curtain and hiding her true nature from him. "What caused this?"

"Radiation." A pause. He knew that was only part of her story. "You?"

There was a dark humour when he replied but it lacked warmth. A curtain of another kind to hide his pain. She knew. She had been raised in the agonies of mind, body and soul. Too experienced not to recognise its' ways in others. "Stupidity."

His reply surprised her. "That is no answer."

His touch was gentle. Strangely soothing as he explored her ravaged face, soothed her beaten body with hands that could have been those of a healer. "When you know me better you will realize how truthful I have been."

She wanted to ask more, fulfill the curiosity that was building up inside her for this stranger but he chose that moment to submerge beneath the water. She felt a microt of panic then watched with her mouth open as the mollusks that clung to his face slowly gave up their preferred perch to be surrounded by the odd courting of the servicer fish. Their little sharp toothed mouths working carefully over the encrusted shells and cleaning them off with fastidious care, the debris being wafted into their open sing-song mouths with the oar-like motions of their fins. When he surfaced she was surprised to see it was a handsome face. The pits and gouges not as angry as last time but still tender. His eyes glittered darkly as he looked at her. As if the book of her life was open to him. His eyes devouring every word. Suddenly she wanted him. Fiercely, completely. Was this how Ry had felt? If so, why had she left him? Left them? Was it something he had said or she had done? Whatever had happened between them was none of her business. Looking into those dark contemplative pools she knew he would never tell her. As their lips met all thought of the past fragmented in her mind and dissolved beneath his touch.

* * * * *

He sat in the cockpit of the small craft. Engines stopped. Allowing the solar winds to carry him this way and that. He was thinking. Meditating. Unsure why she had brought him here. "Zhaan?"

The silence cradled his chaotic thoughts. Calmed the tender stutter of his wounded heart. He loved her so much. Missed her always. He sat cross legged on the floor, ignoring the instruments and trusting the fates to watch over the little ship. Stark closed his eye, mumbling and muttering a mixture of entreaties and prayers. He put his whole heart into every word. Every thought a blessing for Zhaan. His entire being the only sacrifice that was his to give. "I am here, Zhaan. Tell me, speak to me. Guide me, my love."

In the silence he rambled. Arns fled around him unnoticed. The provisions he had bought with him remained untouched. Time meant nothing. Survival was irrelevant. Everything paled into insignificance without her. How would he cope? Why survive? It was too cruel. Too heart breaking to go on alone. Tears spilled down his gentle face. The light behind his mask shifted, pulsed a little brighter as if to comfort him. At last the air around him stirred. He did not open his eye. Patiently he waited. A touch against his exposed cheek produced a tear stained smile, his heart opened fully to her, every gift he had to give laid at her feet. His life was hers to take or extinguish as she wished. Her haunting voice sang through the pores of his skin lighting him up with a joy so sweet it burned him. Such a cool but radiant heat. Beautiful and other worldly. Like his Zhaan, divine.

"Stark, my beloved!"

She began to coalesce as a cool flowing light around him, white and luminous. Mingling with the fragrant mist of his incense. He opened his eye and slowly removed his mask. The warm vibrant yellow of his light merged gently with hers. Like the Sun and the Moon intertwined across a bridge of stars. Reminiscent if they did but know it of Crichton's Milky Way. The Winter Street as poets such as Edith M. Thomas were wont to call it:

*And who are they all unheard and unseen -
O, who are they, whose blessed feet
Pass over that highway smooth and sheen?
What pilgrims travel the Winter Street?

Are they not those whom here we miss
In the ways and the days that are vacant below?
As the dust of that Street their footfalls kiss
Does it not brighter and brighter grow?*

Stark's tears of sorrow turned to joy. All his hopes, his love fulfilled in a simple blaze of quiet joining. His light and hers meeting at last again across a distant bridge of stars:

*Steps of the children there may stray
Where the broad day shines though dark earth sleeps,
And there at peace in the light they play,
While someone below still waits and weeps..."

* * * * *

The Luxan's heavy footfalls were all the warning the others needed that his mood was far from benign. He stormed into command, his tenkas swinging in time to his strides. Aeryn, Chiana and Rygel looked round to see what was the cause of his agitation. Jool was nowhere in sight. Aeryn frowned. D'Argo bellowed. "This is unforgivable! Where is he?"

They exchanged blank looks. Rygel looked at him as if he was bartantic. "Who?"

"Crichton!"

Uh oh. Crichton not John. What had the human done now? Aeryn had a hollow feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. "John was with you, D'Argo. Are you telling me you split up?"

He realised his mistake but would not back down. "I have been calling him for half an arn."

Aeryn did not like the sound of that. "Pilot?"

Pilot's image appeared on the clamshell monitor. "Yes, Aeryn?"

"Can you tell me please where John is?"

He looked down at the controls and took a few microts. "He is still in the narrow ductwork making repairs. Is something wrong?"

"Yes," Growled D'Argo, still sounding annoyed. "He is *not* answering his com and was supposed to meet me half an arn ago."

Pilot looked up, a worried expression on his face. "Moya detects that he is still in the conduit, Ka D'Argo but he is not responding."

Aeryn was already running for the door, the others starting to follow her. "Pilot, give me his last position. We're on our way!"

* * * * *

It was amazing how calm he felt. Once he accepted the idea that he was hallucinating it was not so bad. He really should not have eaten those turlian mollusks. They might be a delicacy to Rygel but they were still incredibly slimey gastropods to him. No matter how much turlan relish you stuck on top of them. You could still taste and feel the slime beneath. He was sure he still had little bits of grit stuck between his back teeth. Still. he could not grumble at least they were *dead*. Not like those awful Hynerian marjols. Yuck. Sometimes Rygel really disgusted him. The face he had been trying to block out of his vision leered close again. Maldis looked incredibly pleased with himself.

"You shouldn't have made me angry, John-boy."

"I didn't make you angry, I beat you. Or rather Zhaan did. Bet that knocked your self esteem, huh? Getting wupped by a woman. Ouch, that's gotta hurt."

Maldis's face contorted with anger. "You are not in a position to provoke me."

"Oh no? And why is that? Can't you feed if your victim refuses to get angry?"

Maldis smiled, his anger gone. Crichton could hear the smugness in his voice, see it on his face. "You aren't the only one who is trapped, you know."

He tried not to look worried. "Oh yeah?"

"One by one I'm going to pick off all your friends and you won't be able to do a thing to help them." He paused and gave him an evil grin. "I'm saving you for last." He tapped a finger against Crichton's forehead. "The main course."

Fear lapped at the base of his brain. His heartbeat started to speed up. He tried to control his voice, stay calm. "What're you talking about, Maldis?"

"You know why I'm here. Revenge."

"Yeah well Zhaan's already dead so you're timing sucks."

"Not as much as yours, John."

Fear struck deep as Maldis pushed his face up against Crichton's. He could not move. There was no room in the duct for him to get out of the way and for some reason his body was not obeying him. Crap. This was *not* good. Maldis smiled. "Miss Harvey?"

His heart missed a beat. How the hell could he know about the clone? It wasn't possible, was it? "I don't know what you're talking about."

The grin grew wider. "Oh no? You never wondered where he disappeared to?" A pause. "Out of sight, out of mind."

He tapped Crichton's forehead a second time. He was really starting to get pissed off now. "Will you *stop* doing that you psycho?"

"That's it John, get angry, lash out at me. Kill me and you keep your friends safe." He paused and watched Crichton's face contort. "Or maybe I should just leave you to Scorpius?"

As he mentioned the half-Scarran's name Maldis vanished and Crichton was back in the chair. Scorpius walked round the chair until he stood in front of him. A smile on that death's head that chilled him with a fear so deep he did not think he could keep his heart pumping. Maldis watched from the sidelines and fed on his fear, growing stronger by the microt as the human began to weaken. Siphoning off his spirit while draining his body. The fear was such a delicious taint. Scorpius stepped up to him and Crichton shuddered. Remembered the nightmare of being touched by him. The agony of penetration. Scorpius tilted his head and seemed to read his mind. An unreasoning panic flooded him. As he struggled against the straps of the chair he screamed but not enough to drown out the abomination's triumphant laughter.

* * * * *

The swaying depths trapped her but he was strong. Held her so firmly yet so lightly. She could barely fathom why she trusted him but she did. Onyi could feel her lungs swelling, fit to burst. Determined to hold on, to show him that she could endure. For him. It never came to that. His lips found hers and filled her lungs with air as he kissed her. Light headed she floating in a strange euphoria. The water was not that deep but she lived on a world where a thimbleful was the daily quota. To bathe in enough to submerge in was an exotic luxury that blew her mind. Yet he thrived in it. Took the extravagance as a natural thing. She assumed he came from a water rich world. She surfaced slowly and watched his dark head fly back as he broke the surface, air sucked into greedy lungs now empty. She felt a momentary sense of dizziness then his dark eyes were on her. She wanted him. As she had never wanted anything before. Without being asked. Without waiting for an invitation she closed the small distance between them, moulded her fragile body to his. Wrapped her legs around him as she brought her lips to his, her hands dancing over his tortured flesh.

His sigh in her throat excited her, his touch on her body lit fires that would surely ignite the water. His laughter anaethetised her brain centre with a joy that was rare to her. He devoured her with a smooth grace, her body sliding up against his in time to the thrusts of his tongue, the
movement of her hands. He was hungry, she was starved. They made love not in a frenzy but in a long slow ballad of sensations that had her screaming for him to finish her off. He would not be hurried. He threw back his head in a lusty laugh, she joyed in his feral abandon, his strength lifting her almost clear of the water so he could bury his face in her sex. A cry of shock then exhultation fled from her startled lips, a celebration that exploded in her core at his touch. Her bud licked, caressed, sucked as his tongue delved deeper, stirring the core of her and setting every nerve on fire until her body short circuited in a shattering orgasm that he drunk down even as he savoured her upon his tongue. Inhaling her rich essence he slowly drew her back down into that flavoured wetness, the water washing and wafting her scent through the water's spray as he shook his head with quiet glee then slid her body slowly down his, increasing the contact and the friction, lowering her so slowly in his strong arms. Her limbs buzzing with excitement, her body with anticipation. She felt for him, her hands hungry to hold and caress him, to excite him and reward him in kind. But he had other ideas. The water made the perfect medium for what he had in mind and her body was supple enough to maximise his intent. She could not have been more perfect for him if she had been double jointed.

She saw the laughter pooling in his dark eyes and shuddered with deep content. Her lust rising to rival even his own.

* * * * *

It was the DRDs who found him. Collapsed and unconscious in the narrow duct, Rygel elected to go after him. The others were strangely subdued, their worry as tangible as the walls of the leviathan that held them in her care. Rygel allowed the DRD to lead him along tight and winding ducts, huffing and puffing in the air strapped passage. He wondered how in hezmana the human had managed on so little air. Perhaps that was why he had passed out? A simple thing, easily explained and yet he doubted there was any such obvious answer. After all this was John Crichton and if there was one thing he had learnt about the human it was that nothing was ever simple or straightforward. If there was a bad guy in the Universe Crichton would find him. Or even more likely, would manage to piss him off. And yet the human did not deserve it. Quite the opposite.

His heart shuddered when he found him. For all his complaining and insults, he worried about Crichton. Now he was lying as still as a yentig. Rygel tried to block the clamour of voices from his head. He knew the others were worried. He was worried too. He sighed sadly. "I've found him!" He yelled. More to silence them than reassure them.

He looked at the human's gentle face. Drenched in perspiration his skin looked clammy. It made Rygel shudder. Tentatively he touched the side of his neck looking for a pulse. After a couple of microts he found it. A big smile appeared like a gash in his face. "He's alive!" He called back. "But unconscious. Tell Jool to stand by."

Rygel tugged at one booted foot but all he did was work the boot loose. He stared at his friend and sighed. "Even unconscious you're trouble, do you know that?"

But the words were softly spoken. Affectionate even. The Hynerian tried again, even considered using his thronesled but the simple truth was that the sled was not big enough for a human and he lacked the strength to drag him back to the access panel on his own. "D'Argo, Aeryn, Chiana!"

"Yes?" Yelled Aeryn. "What's the problem Rygel?"

"The problem Aeryn is that John is unconscious."

"Then wake him, slug, and let's get out of here!" Growled D'Argo impatiently.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you. He won't wake up and I can't move him."

Chiana tilted her head thoughtfully and looked at the others. "Hey, if we had some rope we could pull him out."

D'Argo frowned at her but Aeryn nodded thoughtfully. "Good idea, that might do it. Do you know where there's any rope?"

The Nebari's face was fairly luminous. "Yeah, I know where to find some."

D'Argo growled at her, irritated because he could do nothing. "Then what are you waiting for?"

"Well don't all rush to thank me at once."

"We won't," Said Aeryn. "Just hurry up, we don't know what condition John is in."

Any smart comment she was contemplating died on her lips. Chiana nodded and hurried off. She returned less than 200 microts later. Aeryn gave her a suspicious look but the matted fibres looked like rope, and when she yanked it in her hand it felt like rope.

"Well?" Said Chiana impatiently. "What are you waiting for?"

Aeryn shot the Nebari such a hostile look that she took a pace back. D'Argo took one end of the rope from Aeryn and spoke to her in a low rumble. "We do not have time for this, Aeryn."

She nodded slightly and turned her back on Chiana. D'Argo yelled into the opening. "Rygel! Get your slimey hide down here, we have the rope."

Muttering darkly the Hynerian made his way to the opening and took the end of the rope. "You took your time." He grumbled.

Before D'Argo could bat him with his hand the Hynerian had disappeared and the length of rope was diminishing with him. Aeryn frowned. "I hope it's long enough."

Aeryn and D'Argo looked at Chiana. She bristled. "Hey, it's long enough, okay?"

"How do you know?" Asked Aeryn.

Chiana tilted her head at an abrupt angle, trying to hide her concern. "Because it has to be."

Inside the narrow duct Rygel reached Crichton. The human was stirring but not waking. It was as if he was having some kind of nightmare. Either that or a siezure. Rygel hoped for the former not the latter. He patted Crichton awkwardly on the shoulder. "Hold on, we're going to get you out of here."

The human mumbled something incoherent. Rygel thought he sounded in pain. Looked around for somewhere suitable to tie the end of the rope then looked at his feet. Perfect. Grunting and huffing with the effort he finally got the rope tied. He yelled back and then had to scramble out of the way as the others pulled on the rope and dragged the human back down the duct to the access panel. Anxious hands lifted him out. He looked pale and was trembling slightly. D'Argo frowned. "I do not like the look of this."

Aeryn silently agreed but was not about to say so. She had come so close to losing him so many times that her heart lurched painfully just a single heartbeat away from total panic. With any luck he had just picked up a virus. She followed closely as D'Argo carried their unconscious friend, Chiana and Rygel following sadly like two forgotten pall bearers. Trapped in darkness, Crichton fought other battles. Fear wracking his body while his mind tried to find a way out. Some escape route not blocked off by Maldis. Unable to warn the others he fought alone as slowly, inexorably, he descended deeper and deeper into the darkness that bound him.

* * * * *
END