Author's Notes:This came from a bad dream I had one
night after falling asleep to LG/M about a year ago. I finally decided to write
it up. This may have more to it, I don't know yet.
Spoiler: Liars, Guns, and Money
Disclaimer: Not Mine. If it was, we'd have a Farscape channel.
The voice...voices dance through his mind. Pushing him foreword. His feet move of their own volition.
You'll never get away from me, John.
His hand goes to his head, trying to push away the now constant bombardment. He can feel a trickle of moisture on his face. He can't be sure anymore.
"You go away, you're not real!" he shouts to the figure standing in front of him. Were those hands urging him foreword? All he can do is look at the haunting bastard in front of him.
You'll never get away from me, John. "Go away, Scorpius!!"
He feels pressure on him, inside and out. Sensation... lights and sound hold no real meaning. Only Scorpius.
There's no escape, John... no escape, John.
More indistinguishable shouting and he finds himself to close to the spider lady. Spider lady...spider lady...her name was Natira. Glancing over he can see the one call Rorf take a shot. He saved him. The tracker had saved him.
Why?
A gun. There's a gun. Scorpius. He can kill Scorpius and stop his voice. Make him go away. God...just let it stop. Yes, pick up the gun. He wasn't going to get him again.
Everything is slow now. Pick up the gun. Don't listen to the voice. It's not real. The gun is real, he can feel the handle in his hand.
Do it, dammit. Do it! He can feel himself chanting as he screamed, "NO!!!!"
He shoots the one who hit the tracker. The tracker who saved him.
He can hear Scorpius' voice as he said, "Leave him, John."
He's there, right there! Why can't he pull the trigger?
The half-breed's whisper reaches for him, urging him on. "Leave him... and come to me."
He wants to go, wants to just let the pain, the voice end. It feels as if the pressure building up inside of him. Too much. It's too much. The pain too much.
He let's his arm drop to his side, the gun useless to him. He can only stare at his certain death, his body almost numb from the pain.
There's no escape, John. There's no escape. No escape.
He takes a step forward.
There's no escape, John, there's no escape.
And yet another step.
It's almost as if he's not moving his feet himself and he can feel himself growing smaller with each step closer he comes to Scorpius and his out stretched arms.
Originally posted on February 14, 2004