Weekend

Rating: R
Setting: During Terra Firma
Spoilers: Through S4

Notes: This was written in response to a particular request and has probably been the most difficult thing to write that I have encountered in a long time. It might be considered ep filler, something I don’t think I’ve written before. So it had to be fitted into certain narrow parameters. I think that might make it just a tad bit…different. Beta thanks and shout-outs to my drive-by reviewers. To ScaperRed: for always being right, late night convos, and sanity checks. To Agent Rouka and Susan: for their detailed reviews and enthusiastic support. And AR-there’s a scene written especially for you since you thought it should be there. I hope it’s written well enough for you to recognize. LOL! And always to kaz: for late night convos, plot bunnies, and an insatiable demand for fic.  
Warnings: Read and heed. Sex: Implied and harsh. Violence: Yes. Language: Yes. Dark, adult themes: Yes. If this sort of thing disturbs you or makes you even vaguely uncomfortable, you should probably find something else to read. Consider yourselves warned.
Disclaimers: Definitely not mine. Belong to Henson, et. al. No copyright infringement intended. There is definitely no money being made. At least by me.

Earth. Terra firma. Seems forever it’s filled my thoughts…been my goal. And now I’m here.

Beautiful day. Sun shining bright in an almost perfectly blue sky. The deep blue sky of home. Clouds completing the picture perfect postcard. A flock of Canadian geese off along the far shore.

None of it touched him as he watched the perfect waves on the perfect surface of the perfect lake in the perfect sunshine and let his memories surface.

Sittin’ on the dock of the bay, watching the tiiiide roll away…

It wasn’t a bay, but it was a dock, and it wasn’t the tide he was watching roll away. Just his life.

Sittin’ here just restin’ my bones, and this loneliness won’t leave me alone…

He thought that he was lonelier with her here than he would have been alone. Aching for a woman who wasn’t here. Wishing the one who was here wasn’t.

Fuck .

He’d take that trade. As soon as he could.

Your once and future girl. Your always and forever girl.

If he ever could.

What makes you think she’s gonna stick around? How well you’ve been treating her? You sure as hell weren’t the other you.

Perfect. That’s what they’d been. He’d seen the look on the other guy’s face. Knew what they’d had together. Wanted that look on his face. Wanted that so badly he could taste it. Bitter. Sweet. And that burned in his veins and coiled in his gut.

Or maybe it was your charming personality that was gonna make her stay. On or off the lakka? Which sure as hell wasn’t working.

He smiled sardonically.

Why the hell did you ever think this would work? Who the hell do you think you’re fooling? Her? Still think she’s gonna stick around til you get this right and tell her…everything?

He exhaled softly.

Aeryn Sun. Your drug of choice.

And he knew that wasn’t ever going to change. Had always known it, since the first time he’d laid eyes on her. And knowing that, he wondered again why he was doing this. Why she’d let him do this to her.

Why he was doing this to himself.

Does she think you wanted to do this to her? Punish her? Humble her? Teach her a lesson? Does she really think you don’t love her?

He wondered what she was thinking. Doing. Livvy spent more time with her than he did. But he couldn’t ask his sister how she was doing. Wasn’t part of the plan.

No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t tell how much damage he was inflicting this time. She’d changed so much. The other him had damn near killed her, and he was just beginning to see that he could do the same.

He’d cut her off. And had felt something inside him wither and die. Felt the tendrils of cold pain invade the hollow in his chest and settle in his gut. And he knew from the constant pain in her eyes that she felt it too.

He’d left her alone on his homeworld. Let them cage her like a specimen. Like he didn’t care. And wordlessly, she’d let him.

It’s a cage, but at least it’s a gilded one.

He’d caged himself as surely as he’d caged her. Without thinking, his hand slid into his pant’s pocket, searching. And came up empty.

Shit. You’re gonna have to get creative here, boy. It’s not like on Moya where you could just hit the old witch up for your fix.

Disgusted with himself, he swallowed hard against the bile rising in his throat, picked up a rock, and skipped it across the water. Felt the broken, jagged pieces inside him grind. Thought about how easy it was to become trapped in the void of self-pity, to ridicule himself for it, and to continue on anyway.

How the hell did everything go so wrong?

He closed his eyes and let his thoughts wander. Wondered what the endgame would look like. Whether or not there would be enough pieces left of either one of them to pick up and put back together this time. His stomach clenched, and his head pounded with the promise of yet another migraine. He rolled it on his shoulders trying to ease the tension.

The world was upside down. Dad was putting up Christmas decorations.

And it didn’t mean a damn thing, because all he could think about was her. The desperate hope in her eyes that only he could see every time he entered the room. He’d come full circle and slammed face first into the truth.

He wanted whatever was left of her back. Wanted to take her and run far, far away. Protect her without tearing her apart. Flip off the universe and go hide. Settle down and let them both heal. Raise their child. Be a family.

Family traditions. They were supposed to bring you together, make everything normal. But things have changed and we don’t get to pretend they haven’t.

The flock of geese took off, and he watched a pair of pelicans land. Shook himself slightly. He knew she was coming, and braced himself for the touch of her hands on his shoulders. And still he flinched involuntarily.

“Hey, Buck Rogers, you’re supposed to be fishing, not writing memoirs.” She sat down beside him, and he fought the urge to move away. “What’s that?”

“It’s homework.”

He didn’t feel the need to elaborate or even have this conversation. Not here. Not with her. He snorted softly at the realization that he knew exactly when blondes had quit doing it for him. When earth girls had quit doing it for him.

She didn’t notice. He didn’t care.

“This was supposed to be your weekend off. No homework. No stress, no aliens, no demands. I guess I’m not doing my job.”

She turned his face to kiss him. On the lips. He hesitated, wondered why she didn’t notice how much he wasn’t responding, and then he gave up. Body tensed, fists clenched, he kissed back, lips tightly pursed, fighting the urge to wipe the back of his hands over his mouth as he pulled back.

Things have changed and we don’t get to pretend they haven’t.

He wanted the aliens. Wanted and needed his alien girl.

******************************

“Come on Aeryn,” Chiana wheedled, cajoling the ex-Peacekeeper with her best, most innocent smile. “You haven’t been out of the house all day. And you haven’t bought nearly enough stuff yet.”

“Chiana. I have bought all the stuff that I am going to buy right now. I do not want to go shopping. I do not want to go the mall. I do not want to go out. I’m tired of being on display and being watched.” She bit her lower lip and forced herself to stop before the rest of that thought was given voice.

“Hezmana, Aeryn. Are you trying to tell me that you’d rather stay in with Rygel than go out with us? Cuz that’s just fahrbot.”

“What’s fahrbot about it? We have plenty of candy, don’t we? I won’t even know he’s here. And that old witch Noranti and Sikozu are gone to some frelling conference on ancient civilizations or some other frelling thing. I fail to see the problem.”

“The problem is that you need to get out. Have some fun.”

“Chiana,” D’Argo bellowed from the front door. “We’re ready to go.”

“Come on, Aeryn,” she said, grabbing the Sebacean’s hands and pulling.

“No, thank you, “Aeryn replied, refusing to be moved. “Just go,” she urged. “Have fun for both us.”

Chiana rolled her eyes and snorted before leaning over to kiss Aeryn on the cheek.

“Be good,” Aeryn said, smiling faintly. “Just don’t have too much fun.”

Chiana rolled her eyes again and sighed dramatically. She grinned and pecked Aeryn’s cheek again before bouncing off, giving the Sebacean a departing wave.

“I thought they’d never go,” Rygel snorted from his place on the couch. “Took you long enough to get rid of them.”

“I didn’t see you contributing anything useful to the effort. But, you are right. I thought they’d never leave. Is Xena, Warrior Princess on yet?”

“Almost. Right after these commercials. I love this commercial.”

“What is that? It looks like something we were told not to eat on underdeveloped planets like…”

“Shut up. You obviously have no taste,” Rygel observed regally. “Look at that. We have to get some of that.”

“Sni…ckers. Snickers. What are Snickers?”

“Who cares? We should get some. I’m sure they go well with M&Ms. Speaking of which, don’t even think about coming over here to sit unless you bring more candy. My bowl is empty.”

“Since you asked so nicely, your wish is my command.”

“As it should be.”

She snagged a pound bag of plain and another one of peanut on her way to the couch.

“Your obsession is not healthy,” she observed.

“No obsession is.”

“It’s probably going to kill you one day. Death by chocolate.”

“That would be a problem only if death did not occur in my own bed surrounded by loving concubines.”

“You are disgusting.”

“Yes, but I share.”

Smiling, he held out the bowl to her. She grabbed a handful of plain as they settled in.

******************************

“Door,” he groaned.

“You could go answer it,” she replied reasonably.

“No. My stomachs hurt.”

“I told you your obsessions were unhealthy. I told you to stop eating two arns ago.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” he groaned again. “And my head hurts. Go get the frelling door.”

“I should have gone with Chiana,” Aeryn muttered under her breath.

Standing, she shot the Hynerian her best disgusted look. It was a totally wasted effort as he ignored her completely in favor of the flashing images on the big screen. Shrugging slightly, she turned and walked through the foyer and opened the front door.

“Hello, Ms. Sun,” the man standing at the door drawled.

Tall and lean, the young man with the dark hair smiled at her, his even darker eyes crinkling in pleasure at seeing her.

“Agent Ryan,” she smiled back. “Is anything wrong? Can I help you?”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” he assured her, pausing a moment as if trying to be sure of his phrasing. ”I was on my way home and just thought I’d stop by to see how you were doing. You seemed a little…restless the last time we talked.”

“Oh,” she started, trying to remember. “That was nothing. I‘ve never been planetside and in one place with nothing to do for such a long time before. I was just…missing my Prowler.” She paused a beat, trying to find the words to explain. “You know,” she said forcing a bright smile, grateful for his concern, “free and flying. It was nothing.”

“Well, I can’t get you out in your Prowler, but I can get you out of the house, if that works for you. Agent Roberts and I were just going to grab something to eat,” he said, gesturing vaguely to his partner in the car. “Would you like to join us?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I wouldn’t want to…”

“”No, please. We’d love to have you join us. Unless you have other plans.”

Meet some people.

“No, it’s just Rygel and I,” she said slowly.

“I’ll let you drive,” Ryan wheedled, flashing a perfect smile and dangling the car keys in front of her.

Have some fun.

“Rygel, I’m going out for a while,” she called. “I’ll be back later.”

Smiling at Ryan, she grabbed the keys.

“Where to?” Aeryn asked, leading the way to the car.

******************************

She loved to drive. Fast and flat out, in a car with the top down. She thought it was one of the best things about being in this place, at this time. She could imagine being in her Prowler.

It was almost as good. Almost. She was grateful to Ryan for taking the time to teach her how to do this, and for pointing out some of the more interesting places and things around.

And the agents had always been nice to her. They’d spoken to her when there had been no need to. Sat and had coffee before or after their shift. Small things to be sure.

But it was nice to have someone say something or spend some time because he wanted to. And now this unexpected kindness, a reprieve from watchful eyes. She was in a much better frame of mind already than when they had left.

“You hungry?” Ryan asked.

“Yes,” she said smiling. “I am now.”

“There’s a place I sometimes go off the next exit. We can be there in ten minutes. Sound ok with you?”

“Just tell me where to turn.”

******************************

Hitting the brakes and flipping the signal on, Aeryn turned into the parking lot. Scanning the rows for an empty spot, she found one and pulled in. Perfect. Smiling to herself, she shut off the engine and pulled the keys out of the ignition.

“You really enjoy that, don’t you?” Ryan teased.

“I like to drive,” she said, eyes glowing. “I also like to eat. Where are we?”

“Roadhouse with the best burgers in this part of the state,” he said with a wink. “Actually it’s a renovated warehouse with a bar, lounge, game room, and food. It tries to be all things to all people. Come on," he invited, "we’ll show you.”

******************************
John eyed the assorted white boxes arrayed in front of him, reached for the one with the Mandarin Beef, then changed his mind and set it back down. The woman at the other end of the table put down her chopsticks and looked at him.

“Are you going to eat that or just look at it?” Caroline asked with a sigh.

“Sorry. I’m just…not hungry,” John said, pushing his plate away.

“You haven’t been much of anything since we got here, John.”

He hadn’t been hungry, or talkative, or much company since they arrived. Hadn’t wanted to be around her, made and taken advantage of every excuse he could to be off by himself. Sitting on the dock, writing in his journal, sleeping on the couch.

“Wasn’t that the point of all this? To get away and relax?”

He tried to smile but knew instinctively by the look on her face that hadn’t worked. And he didn’t feel the need to work hard enough for charming. Not here. Not with her.

You want to be somewhere, anywhere with Aeryn, alone in your own little world where you can tell the rest of the universe to fuck off.

He knew what she was trying to do and why, and while he understood the reasons behind it, he was more than a little angry at his dad for setting this in motion. And he was way more than a little angry at himself for giving in and going along with the charade.

Still letting Jack Crichton call the shots.

He knew he was feeling sorry for himself, but figured he was entitled. Rolling his shoulders, trying to release some tension, he stretched in the chair and tried to force himself to focus on the woman sitting across from him.  

“It’s supposed to be a vacation. I have no idea why you even came. Just to shut yourself off from the rest of the world? You certainly haven’t spent any time with me. You haven’t gone anywhere, done anything.”

You’d laid alone in the dark aching for her. Wanted to touch her so much you thought you might explode. Dreamed about wrapping yourself around her, running your hands and lips all over her as she held you close.

Been terrified someone, anyone, even Aeryn herself, would see how much you loved her.

“Your dad thought that if we came up here you might be able to relax and get your mind off whatever seems to be bothering you.”

What could you possibly say to her to make this right?

"If anything...you seem wrapped even tighter than when we got here."

You know you’re pathetic. You couldn’t find the words when you really needed them, but when they weren’t really necessary, you couldn’t shut up. Then they came endlessly and uselessly.

“John?"

Lately, more than usual with her, words had failed you.

“John?”

And all you’d been able to give her was strained silence.

“John!”

Stupid bastard.

She was staring at him as the silence stretched, and it dawned on him belatedly that she had been speaking. He realized that he had no idea what she’d been saying, and that it didn’t matter anyway.  

“Sorry I’m not better company,” he said, not really sorry at all. “Lotta things on my mind.”

His gut clenched and his mind wandered again as he wondered for the thousandth time what Aeryn might be doing. Without him. So far away.

“Don’t worry about apologizing to me, John,” she said breezily, waving a hand. “Worry about yourself. You’re making your dad and Livvy crazy. That’s why Jack asked me to bring you up here. He thought you might relax enough to talk to someone who wasn’t that…close to you.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” John asked sharply.

“It means you won’t talk to him” she said, conciliatory. “Or Livvy. And that worries him.”

“So he thought…”

“…that if you got away from everything you might not be…wrapped so tight.”

“Got a lotta things on my mind,” he repeated, thinking how lame and pathetic that sounded even to him.  

Dumbass. Go home. At least there you can see her.

“We may not have been great friends, John, but we were…” she began.

“…uncomplicated,” he finished for her, smiling without any real pleasure.

“Uncomplicated,” she agreed. “It was fine while it lasted. We hooked up, it was fine. When it was over, that was fine too. We moved on. Simple. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t try to help you if I thought I could.”

“So my dad thinks if things are…simple, I’ll talk to you.”

“You don’t want to be here. At least not with me. That’s obvious. Now, Aeryn…”

“…don’t go there.”

“She’s beautiful.”

That brought him up short. He thought about her pale, flawless skin, and what it felt like to touch her. Silk and satin and strength. The sense memory of touching her still burned in his fingertips, in his heart. He imagined running his fingers through that long, beautiful hair of hers. Burying his face in it, and taking in that wonderful scent.

“So unlike anyone I’ve ever seen you with.”

“She’s not…with me.”

The tilt of her head and the raised eyebrow told him just how much of that Caroline wasn’t buying. Leaning forward, she rested her elbow on the table and dropped her chin into the palm of her hand. He tried again, struggling to keep his voice even and his face neutral.  

“We’re not…together.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” she said, softly challenging. “You know, it’s ok if you lie to me. It’s ok because I’m not invested here. So I don’t care if you lie to me or don’t talk to me, but you should probably stop lying to yourself.”

Again that brought him up short. He wondered suddenly just how transparent he was, without the lakka, and spoke before he could stop himself.

“She came out of an intense…relationship not too long ago,” he said, surprised and repulsed by the fierce, caustic reactions that fact still provoked in him. He wondered if he would ever be free of them.

Selfish, jealous bastard.

“He left her?”

Jealous of a dead man.

“He…died.”

Such simple words to express all that pain.

The pain he’d been drowning in even as he’d watched her walking that no man’s land between the living and the dead, trying to keep it together. The awful pain that he’d seen radiating in her eyes, heard in her voice, felt in the taut, tense lines of her body.

Broken glass and broken hearts.

Even when you hadn’t been able to touch her, hold her, you could still feel it.

He wondered if she still felt that. Wondered if what he was doing now wasn’t inflicting even worse on her. He couldn’t ask.

Not part of the plan.

And he thought again that saying he was sorry wasn’t ever going to be enough. Those words seemed wholly inadequate at this point in the game. He wondered how he would ever make her understand. He wanted her to understand. He wanted her to tell him that this was going to be all right.

Selfish bastard.

“Oh,” Caroline finally said, breaking his reverie. “I thought the look was familiar.”

“What?”

“You remember my older sister Trina?”

“Vaguely.”

“She lost her first husband.”

“I didn’t know that,” he said, oddly unsettled and unsure where she was going, but suddenly very interested in this conversation. “Never knew she’d been married before.”

“Yeah. Paul died about five years before I met you. They’d only been married about a year when he died. Stupid accident,” she shrugged. “Drunk driver.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know," he said. "What has this got to do with Aeryn?”

“That look. Reminds me of my sister. After Paul died she quit her job, took the insurance money, sold the house, and said good-bye. We didn’t see her for over a year.” She began idly rearranging the boxes on the table.

“Your parents must have worried themselves sick.”

“They did. I did. But I’d always thought she was the strongest person I knew. And we got occasional cards from places saying she was all right and that she missed us. My parents never understood. But I did.”

“Understood what?” John asked softly.

“That she needed to get away.” She stopped playing with the boxes. “That no matter how much she loved us or how much we loved her, for whatever reason, she could never come to grips with that loss around here. She tried, but she could never explain that to my parents.”

“Why not?”

“They just couldn’t understand. And they were angry and they were hurt. Because they loved her. And wanted to help her.” She tilted her head and her eyes focused on a point on the far wall. “There was a lot of yelling and screaming and crying when she said good bye.”

“What happened? Did they get over it?”

“Eventually. And then one day she just showed up. Different.”

“Different how?”

“She had a baby. She’d been pregnant when Paul died. Hadn’t even known. And when she came back, she looked just like Aeryn. Like wherever she’d been, whatever she’d done, she’d found the strength or desire to go on. She started going out with Matt. A guy she’d known in high school. They fell in love, got married.”

“And they’re good?” John asked quietly, his elbows on the table. Leaning forward, he propped his chin on his folded hands and waited for her answer.

“She loves him. He loves her. They love their kid.” She shrugged her shoulders. “They’ve got everyday problems, but they’re good. Aeryn looks like Trina did. Reminds me a lot of her. Now I know why.”

“You sound like Dr. Phil,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “When did you become such an expert on relationships?”

She cocked her head again and furrowed her eyebrows in a silent question.

“Aeryn likes Oprah,” he said with a shrug.

She let that slide and decided to answer the question.    

“When I grew up,” she said reasonably. “Look, no matter how good it is, sex is just sex. After a while, if it’s just about the hooking up, about getting laid,” she laughed awkwardly, “about getting some, it just doesn’t make it. You want more,” she said soft and slow, “more than just a body. If you’re lucky, you meet someone who is…more.”

“And you’ve met that someone?” John asked, reaching out to snag his beer.

“Like I said, I’m not invested here. Yeah,” she smiled, “I’ve met someone. I’ve been trying to decide. About him. About me. About us. I wondered what would happen with you here. But now, being here, I know.”

“What is it you know?” John asked, beer halfway to his lips.

“You don’t want sex, at least not with me, and even if you did, I don’t think I would. Because I think I’ve found that someone for me. At least now I know for sure that I want to make it work. You’re gonna have to decide what you want with Aeryn.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Uncomplicate it.”

“It’s not just up to me.”

“Yes, that part of it is. Do your part and then trust that she’ll do hers. And if it doesn’t work, at least you’ll know you did everything you could.” She looked at him for a long moment with an appraising stare before apparently deciding to take pity on him. “You know, we could just bag this,” she finally said.

“You gonna spring me?”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind spending some quality time with him. And if we hurry, we can be outta here in an hour.”

******************************

The place was about half full when they arrived. Aeryn slid her eyes over the large open space of the main floor, noting the tables jammed along one side. She took in the exposed brick and stained natural oak paneling, the huge oak bar surrounded by people at the center of the room, the game area, the music playing, the people dancing, and decided that she liked it.

It had a comfortable feeling to it, offered a sense of anonymity that had been missing from her existence lately. No one except the hostess had looked at them or even up as they’d entered and followed her over to one of the few empty tables. Ryan pulled out a chair, and bowed her into it with a flourish.

“Thank you,” Aeryn said with a laugh, feeling more comfortable and relaxed than she had been in a very long time. She marveled that such simple things as a drive and dinner away from the confines of her life at the mansion could make her feel so…good.

“It’s nice to see you smile,” Ryan said, with one of his own directed at her. “We don’t see nearly enough of that.”

“It’s good to be out,” she said simply.

“The burgers here are great,” Roberts suggested. “Especially with a beer. This place has a micro brewery and some pretty good stuff. I’m sorry,” he said, stopping himself suddenly as if just remembering something. “Do you…drink beer? Do you have anything like it…out there?”

“Yes,” she laughed again, “we have something like it out there. And yes, I drink it. Fellip nectar. Tastes almost the same. Not quite, but almost.”

“Well, then this is the place to be,” Roberts said with a satisfied grin. “We should be able to find something that comes really close to your fellip nectar here. Make you feel right at home.”

Aeryn’s smile froze in place as a surging wave of grief and pain slammed into her.

You haven’t been anywhere near home in over a cycle and that had nothing to do with where you were.

Roberts looked at her and then shifted to look at his beeper. He glanced up at Ryan before smiling apologetically at Aeryn.

“I’ve gotta go call the office. I’ll just go outside,” he said, gesturing around the room at the noise. He pushed back from the table and nodded briefly before leaving.

“Hey, are you all right?” Ryan asked, looking at her closely. “Something wrong?”

“No, no. I’m fine.” She struggled to get the words out, hoping to pacify him. “I’m just hungry that’s all. And I really would like to clean up before we eat. Can you tell me where I could do that?”

“Around the bar, through the door, and turn right down the hall. Don’t you want to look at the menu and decide what you want first?”

“No, I trust you,” she said, rising. “Go ahead and order. Surprise me.”

******************************

She stepped back through the door into the main dining room, and was surprised to see that the bar had been surrounded three deep with happy, smiling people busy talking. Roberts was just walking back in through the front door. Ryan looked up from his conversation at the pool table and smiled, heading back toward her.

She realized that she must have taken longer than she’d thought, sitting there in the closed stall, waiting for that crushing wave of isolation and restless fear to subside.

Walking back to the table, she smiled at the agents, proud of herself for remembering the pleasantries. How to behave in public. Small talk. Small things. Funny how she’d come to be fascinated by the small things. The sight of all the different people, some of them actually smiling at her, snatches of babbling conversations that reached her ears, the smells coming out of the kitchen permeating the air.

Happy. Comfortable. No tension. No demands. No denial.

“Perfect timing,” Ryan said, smiling at her as she slid into her seat. Her beer was already waiting for her, and as she settled herself the waitress arrived with their food.

“Hope you like what we ordered,” Roberts offered as she unrolled her napkin and settled it on her lap as she’d been taught.

“I’m sure it will be fine. Thank you.”

Smiling again, she took a long pull off her beer, letting the sights and sounds and smells of the place wash over her, the comfortable sensations settle in her bones before taking a bite of her burger.

Fifteen minutes later she wasn’t feeling as comfortable. Suddenly dizzy and disoriented, she could barely focus on either Ryan or Roberts. They were looking at her oddly, worried. She tried to focus on a face, but her vision was blurring and she could feel the heat rising and radiating throughout her entire body.

Walk. Move.

“Hey. You all right?” Ryan asked.

Aeryn couldn’t tell whose voice was floating through her barely conscious mind, but the smell and taste of food was making her stomach roil. She was nauseated and felt the need to vomit. She needed to get up. Move. Find something to cool her.

Water. Bathroom.

She tried to pull herself together against the rising tide of nausea, heat, and dizziness that was invading her.

“I just need to…” she managed to breathe, gesturing to the food on the plate in front of her. The mangled, nearly inaudible syllables sounded strangely incoherent even to her. She tried again.

“Bathroom.”

Putting her hands on the table, she leveraged herself to her feet. The room spun wildly for a moment and she forced herself to relax, centering herself to keep her balance. It must have been enough, though, for them to throttle back their immediate concern, because through her blurring vision she could see both agents relax just a bit.

“You need any help? You gonna be all right?” Ryan asked.

She nodded her head carefully, trying to appear more all right than she was feeling. Suddenly, she just wanted to be away from this crowd of people who would be looking at her.

“I’ll be fine,” she forced out. “Just give me a minute.” Dizzy and disoriented, she tried to smile at the men who were wavering in front of her.

“We’ll get the check. We’ll be ready to go when you get back," Ryan said in a tight voice, looking at her closely. “Ok?”

She tried to nod gratefully and moved off. As she walked slowly, faces and bodies blurred in front of her, then parted to make way. Broken bits of conversations hung in the air all around her. She made it to the hallway leading to the restrooms, but suddenly a body was blocking her way.

“You need any help? Are you all right?”

She tried to answer, but her lungs couldn’t seem to fill with enough breath and her mind couldn’t focus enough to form the words. Strong hands wrapped around her upper arms. She couldn’t seem to breathe. Her head swam, and her legs threatened to buckle beneath her.  

She broke away from the hands and forced herself to stumble forward.

Keep moving.

Blackness swirled around the edges of her vision, and the urge to vomit rolled through her with the heat and disorientation she was feeling. Fire raged beneath her skin, scorching her from within. She felt an un-named fear that bordered on terror break through the fog in her mind and settle in her gut as she stumbled her way blindly toward a door.

“She’s just had a little too much to drink,” someone murmured vaguely by her ear as she staggered against the body that caught her, then held her up as she sagged.

A disembodied voice floated past her ear, making its way into her consciousness over the babbling and jerking movement battering her senses.

“I’ve got you. You’ve just had a little too much to drink. Let’s get you to the bathroom. You’re gonna be ok. Everything is gonna be fine.”

******************************

She stumbled, legs unable to support her weight, and fell to the wet pavement. She couldn’t think, couldn’t focus, couldn’t breathe. Rough hands grabbed her arms, strong fingers digging deep, and yanked her to her feet.

“Get her away from the door.”

She felt iron arms wrap around her, could smell beer and sweat as she felt herself dragged away from the circle of light at the door.

Where the frell am I?

Again the hands grabbed her arms, spinning her around. She felt the solid thump of her body as it impacted the brick wall. Her head lolled lifelessly on her shoulders as the world spun around her.

A rolling wave of nausea threatened to make her vomit and she felt, more than heard herself gag. A hand in her hair pulled her head up sharply and another hand, rough, hard, huge, slapped her face. She slumped forward, dead weight.

“Hurry up, god damn it. Get her inside.”

The harshly whispered command was accompanied by another set of hands being laid on her. She was dragged and pushed forward again, stumbling up what felt like stairs. Panic clawed its way up from her gut and fear cut through her before she felt herself pushed one last time landing face down on something hard. She couldn’t breathe as hands again grabbed her and rolled her over onto her back.

She tried to scream, but her lungs wouldn’t fill and the sound wouldn’t come as she felt the hands fondle her, undoing buttons and fasteners as they went. Voices floated in and out of her consciousness as the hands pulled roughly at her.

“Jesus Christ, didn’t know she was gonna be so messed up.”

“You wanted to do this. Now do it.”

She felt her shirt pulled open and her bra pushed up. The hands were all over her breasts.

Inside she was screaming.

“You sure she’s not gonna remember?”

She felt her jeans and underwear pulled over her hips and down her legs.

Why didn’t anyone hear her?

“You wanted to do this,” the voice grated again. “Now finish it.”

Fingers dug into her upper thighs and forced her legs apart. She felt a heavy weight crushing her and harsh breath at her ear. Then there was stabbing pain between her thighs, tearing her, sending ripples of pain shooting through every nerve ending before the blackness reached out and swallowed her whole.

******************************

“John, John, John…”

“What’s the matter Scorp? You don’t like the ride?”

“On the contrary, John. I love the ride. I love riding shotgun,” he smiles, settling against the leather seat and sighing. “It’s such a beautiful night. The sky is as black as Aeryn’s hair. You should really…”

“No, no, no, no, no. You do not get to talk to me about Aeryn.”

“She walks in beauty like the night…” the leather clad freak quotes, one hand over his heart and the other extended dramatically.

“Give it up, freak. You have no idea…”

“Which way, John? Right or left?

“What?

“There’s a fork in the road up ahead,” Scorpius says reasonably. “Which way? Right or left?"

You pull the car gently to the right as he opens the glovebox and begins going through the contents.

“Someone has to make you see.”

“Let me guess. That someone would be you?”

“You really should pay more attention to her, John. And to what you’re doing. I’m not your enemy.”

“Tell me true, Scorpy Sue. What the hell are you doing here?”

“You know I’m only here to protect you. Among other things.”

“Don’t worry about me, Scorp. I’ve got it covered.”

“Right or left, John?

“What?”

“Right or left?”

Another turn off and the car drifts to the left. Suddenly you’re on the parkway.

“All roads lead to Aeryn.”

“I’ve told you before. You do not get to talk to me about Aeryn.”

“Scarrans to the left of me, Peacekeepers to the right,” the Scarran half-breed sings, drumming his hands on the dashboard. “And there she is, stuck in the middle with you.”

“I know what you’re doing. It’s not going to work.”

“You know that I’m only trying to protect you,” he says, jabbing a long, strong, finger into your shoulder. “Among other things,” he smirks.

“Haven’t you learned? You…are mistaken. I don’t need your protection. Or your help.”

“Yes, John. I do learn from my mistakes,” he smiles unpleasantly. “Unlike you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Still fearing me.  Taking the lakka. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. So weak. As if I didn’t know what Aeryn is to you. If I wanted to…”

“You stay away from her, you freakazoid son-of-a-bitch,” you growl, self-control slipping.

“Right or left?” Scorpius asks, pointing forward at the orange barrels almost immediately in front of you.

“Shit,” you hiss, pulling the car hard to the right, pissed because the freak next to you is settled comfortably riding shotgun while you’re sweating bullets and lost on this endless, looping freeway.

“Champagne dreams, John. Reality escapes you.”

“I’m sorry you’re so disappointed,” you reply calmly, in control again. “What did you expect of me?”

“You to see reason. To be reasonable and to see the truth.”

“What truth would that be?”

“You can’t protect her, you know. You can’t be her savior.”

“Fuck you,” you growl, turning to glare at your passenger.

“Right or left?” Scorpius asks, pointing, forcing your attention forward again.

The concrete divider is coming up fast.

The car veers sharply to the left and suddenly your heart is in your throat and your stomach is in knots as you hear and feel the sickening crunch of the body meeting the front end. You see it launch in the headlights and come to rest as your foot tries to go through the floorboard on top of the brake and your arms lock in a wrestling match with the steering wheel. The car fishtails and spins wildly to a halt at the side of the road and you are out of it and moving before conscious thought has returned.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god.”

You skid to your knees at the side of the mangled body, unaware of the blood pooling beneath it and staining your pants. Shaking with adrenaline and fear, brushing the long twisted hair from the join of neck and shoulders you reach out gently place two fingers at what should be the pulse point.

There is nothing.

Oh god, oh god, oh god. The refrain runs like a freight train through your head.

“John, John, John,” the freak standing over you murmurs sympathetically. “You only see the curve, not the road ahead.”

“What?”

“You can’t protect her. You can’t be her savior.”

Your gut is sending a message your brain won’t accept as you reach trembling hands out to gather the broken and bloody body to you. Cradling the twisted and bent form against your chest, you reach up to gently brush the eerily familiar hair from an obscured face.

Aeryn.

******************************

“John,” the voice floats through the haze and the screaming in his head. “John. Wake up, John,” the voice is more commanding as a hand shakes him.

“What?”

“Wake up, John,” Caroline repeated, flicking her eyes nervously between him and the road.

“I’m fine,” he gasped, forcing air into his lungs. “I just nodded off. That’s all.”  

She cocked her head to look at him more closely in the glow of the dashboard lights, opened her mouth as if to say something, and then closed it again quickly at the look on his face. He curled himself more tightly into himself and leaned into the door.

The rest of the drive home was mercifully silent.

******************************

Sitting in the darkened car, watching the mile markers and the exit signs pass, he tried to let the silence settle him. Restless and edgy as he’d been, he now felt ready to crawl out of his skin. He was going back and could see her. Maybe find a way to talk to her.

God, you want to talk to her.

He tried to remember why exactly he’d ever thought this had been a good choice. In his more lucid moments, he knew what he was doing to her. He only had to look at her to know that.

God, you want to look at her.

She’d been at least as broken as he was. Broken and cracked. He realized that now. She’d come back so changed. So unlike herself. It scared the hell out of him.

But lately, he’d wondered how strong the glue holding her together was. What it would take for her to fracture completely, shatter into pieces that she might not be able to put back together again.

There hasn’t been a good choice in forever. At least not any of the ones you’ve made.

He gave up trying to calm himself and asked himself again what could possibly be worth the torment he was knowingly inflicting on them both. The answer that he had been coming up lately kept haunting him.

Not a god damn thing.

********************

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

The voice floated over to her as if from a great distance and she moaned softly, trying to curl her dimly aching body even more in on itself. Hands were on her again and she tried to force herself to roll, scoot, move, anything to get away from the hands. It took a moment for her to realize these were different hands, soft not forcing, gently uncurling her and rolling her over. They roamed over her quickly but with purpose, and for some reason she couldn’t understand, she suddenly felt safer.

“Oh, god. Aeryn, can you hear me? Aeryn, are you all right?”

The voice came from close at hand and she tried to turn toward it, but nothing in her body worked. Her head was throbbing and she was burning up from the inside out. Her stomach rolled violently, and as she began to gag she felt herself rolled again so that she didn’t choke on her own vomit.

“I called it in. No siren, no lights. What the hell happened to her?”

“How the hell should I know? Nothing’s broken, at least as far I can tell. But she’s pretty bruised up and there’s some blood.”

She felt hands on her again and tried to curl in on her body, but her muscles couldn’t obey or even understand the aborted signals issued by wildly misfiring synapses. The voices continued to wash over her.

“Shit. Clothes are ripped. Crichton’s gonna fucking freak.”

“Fuck Crichton. He’s off with that blonde bitch who thinks she’s so hot. He’s busy tappin’ that and I doubt he’s spent much time thinking about this one.”

She heard the grunt and felt the warm rush of air by her face as hands again rolled her. She tried in vain to focus on the voice.

“I hope you’re right. Shit. We just wanted to show her a nice time. Hell, we spend more time with her than he does.”

“Right. So why the hell should he get all bent outta shape? Not like he was taking care of her. Besides, by the time he gets back, this’ll be taken care of. You wanna worry? Worry about her.”

“Watch it, she’s gonna puke again.” The hands rolled her over once more. “Here come the paramedics.”

Through the heaving of her insides, the bile in her throat and the gagging, gasping efforts to breathe, she marked the lights coming up the alley heralding the arrival of the ambulance. She didn’t notice the arrival of the unmarked car which followed it.

The lights in the mansion were barely visible coming up the driveway. As he pulled the car to a stop, his eyes went to Aeryn’s room, checking to see if there was a light in the window. The upstairs appeared completely dark. Stepping out of the car and pocketing the keys, he walked up to the door, unable to suppress a surge of excitement at the thought of being able to at least see her again.

No lakka here, son. Feel this.

Pushing open the door, he stepped through into the foyer. There were no lights in the front part of the house, but noise and light were coming from the back. He listened for a moment and heard D’Argo, Chiana, and Rygel. Hoping that Aeryn was simply watching tv in silence as he had seen her do all too often, he buried his anticipation and started forward.

The hockey game was on. Rangers and Tampa Bay, he noted without enthusiasm, looking around quickly. D’Argo, Chiana, and Rygel were all sitting on the couch, eyes glued to the screen. He didn’t see who he was looking for. He wondered briefly if she was asleep before clearing his throat to announce his presence.

“John,” D’Argo said, looking at him briefly before returning to the big screen. “You’re back. We didn’t expect you until tomorrow at the earliest.”

“Yeah,” Chiana chimed, looking pointedly at him. “What happened? Run out of things to do with Caroline?”

“Did you bring any food back?” Rygel asked with a hopeful glance. “Burgers, tacos, anything?” Seeing John’s empty hands caused him to snort dismissively. “There’s nothing to eat here.”

“I’m not back early. I never said when I’d be back. I didn’t have anything I had to do with Caroline and no, I didn’t bring any food. I thought we had plenty to eat here.”

“How would you know? You’re never around,” the Hynerian complained.

“Does Aeryn know?” Chiana asked doggedly.

“Know what, Chiana?”

“That you had nothing special to do with Caroline.”

“Chiana,” D’Argo growled.

“Shut up, D’Argo. It’s a simple question. Well, Crichton?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her? Where is she?”

“Gone,” Rygel supplied helpfully.

“Gone?” John asked sharply. “Gone where?”

“I don’t know. She just left. And left me to fend for myself.”

“What do you mean she just left?” John asked, walking straight up to Rygel and grabbing him by the earbrow. “This is important, Sparky. She’s not supposed to leave the mansion alone. None of you are,” he backpedaled quickly at their questioning looks.

“She wasn’t alone, Crichton. Now unhand me.”

“I don’t have time for twenty questions here. Who was she with and where did she go?”

“With Agent Ryan and I don’t know.”

“Agent Ryan?”

“Yeah, that really drad looking one that keeps flirting with her,” Chiana laughed, ignoring D’Argo’s disapproving scowl. “The one who taught her how to drive.”

That hit him unexpectedly like a kick right in the gut, sickened him with grief and guilt and anger. Just a small, stupid thing. Just another small, stupid thing that he’d wanted so desperately to share with her when he finally got her to Earth. One more little thing that he couldn’t or wouldn’t be able to share with her. He let go of the little dominar.

“Aeryn knows how to drive?” John asked quietly, a sense of loss surging through him.

“Yeah,” Chiana grinned. “You should come around more, Crichton. We actually do have lives when you’re not here.”

“When will she be back?”

“John…”

“Shut up, D.”

“Don’t know. Don’t even think about coming over here to sit unless you bring some food.”

“Pizza work for you, Buckwheat?”

“Pizza’s fine.”

Chiana handed him the phone with a smile. Grabbing it he dropped onto the couch and began to dial. And tried to ignore the rising sense of panic that had been gathering in his gut.

******************************

Where the frell was she?

He’d been sitting here for hours, watching Crichton sulk, D’Argo and Chiana snipe, while he played with the remote. They’d seemed oblivious to the rising tension that he could feel simmering just under the human’s skin. Or maybe they were just ignoring it.

But now it was only him and Crichton. The lights were off and only the glow from the big screen illuminated the room. The human was twitchy and driving him fahrbot, flipping aimlessly through channels.

“If you can’t find something to watch, give me that thing,” Rygel complained, making a grab for the remote. “At least I know what to do with it.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Blocking his hand with a well placed elbow, Crichton slid down the couch as the phone started to ring. “Don’t you have something that needs eating?”

John ignored the glare aimed in his direction and picked up the phone.

The one sided conversation lasted barely fifteen seconds and he was on his feet before it was over. Tossing both the phone and the remote on the couch, he walked away into the dark without a word or a backward glance. The slam of the door reached Rygel’s ears as he reached for the remote.

“Big frelling yotz.”

******************************

He pulled up to the ambulance entrance without even realizing how he’d gotten there. Parking in front of the No Parking signs, he ripped the keys out of the ignition and was out of the car and running for the door within seconds of pulling up. Ignoring the stares of uniformed people as he jogged through the doorway, he looked desperately around for someone who might be in charge.

They found him as he came to a stop by the emergency admissions station.

“John,” his father’s voice behind him said.

He spun to face three men standing there. His father, an ER doctor, and T.R. Holt.

Of course.

“What are you doing here?” John asked Jack, shifting his gaze to stare at the doctor and pointedly ignoring Holt.

“Since you were supposed to be…gone this weekend,” Jack began, his tone an odd combination of apprehension and guilt, mixed with something John couldn’t quite identify but which might have been wariness or fear, “when…this,” he gestured vaguely, “happened they called me. I didn’t know you were back until Caroline called to tell me. Then…I called you,” he finished quietly.

“Where is she?” John asked quietly.

“You can’t see her now they’re still working…” the doctor began. Without a look or second thought, John shouldered him aside.

“Hey, you can’t go back there,” the doctor said, trying to grab an arm and turn him around.

Spinning, John shoved hard against the man’s chest, pushing him off balance before turning to bolt through the emergency room doors and down the hallway, pushing aside curtains and looking into rooms, ignoring the startled faces of patients and angry voices of the nurses following him.

Where the hell is she?

“John, stop.”

He could hear the urgency in his father’s voice but didn’t care. He would look until he found her. Pushing open another curtain he pulled up short, frozen in his tracks. The world around him went suddenly silent and time seemed to slow.

The air was sucked out of his lungs and it was suddenly much harder to breathe as a solid wall of searing pain slammed into him. The pressure in his suddenly constricted chest was unbearable as fear reached out and grabbed him by the throat, choking him as he tried to draw breath.

It flared into brilliant terror that wound its way through his veins, crawled along his spine, clawed its way into his heart and gut. The nurse at her bedside looked warily in his direction as he found the muscular ability to step forward and the doctor and his father came up to stand behind him.

John sensed his father’s hand on his shoulder and shrugged the attempt at comfort off. All he could see and feel was her, lying there on a stark hospital bed, pale and so deathly still. He stared at her, transfixed by the almost imperceptible rise and fall of her chest and the quiet hiss of oxygen, the only signs of life-giving activity he could see. She was barely breathing.

Oh, god, baby, what happened to you?

He forced himself to focus on the midnight hair spilling out onto the white sheets instead of the angry red cuts on her face and the purple bruise blooming on her cheek. His hand rose of its own volition to stroke her hair, fingers tracing the shell of her ear. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers before gently nuzzling her cheek with his. One endless moment he allowed himself to feel her, before pulling slowly away, fingertips gently trailing across her cheek.

“John…”

He whirled suddenly, rounding on the men standing behind him.

“What happened to her?”

“Let’s not have this discussion here,” the doctor said, looking at Holt, who had appeared behind them. “Follow me.”

*****************************

“I’m gonna ask you again,” John said, looking at the doctor. “What happened to her?”

The cold calm in John’s voice was mirrored in his eyes, and the question floated dangerously in the small, empty exam room. The doctor took a step back from the implied threat it carried and from the look on John’s face. His gaze slid to Holt before coming back to rest on John.

“Commander Crichton,” Holt responded smoothly. “Rest assured that everything that can possibly be done for Officer Sun is being done.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” John snarled, eyes blazing at Holt. “And you are not the one I asked.”

The doctor looked one more time at Holt before answering.

“Officer Sun came in exhibiting signs of respiratory distress. She was unconscious, had a significantly decreased body temperature and heartrate, had suffered a series of seizures during transport, and had aspirated some of the contents of her stomach into her lungs. We administered charcoal, pumped her stomach and got a tube into her.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“You still have not answered my question,” John reiterated, slowly and precisely.

“We’ve given you as much of an answer as we can,” Holt said quietly, narrowing his eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That is all the information we have for you.”

“Excuse me?” John asked, a red tinged haze hovering just on the edges of his vision.

“You are not her husband or her boyfriend or part of her immediate family. Privacy concerns dictate that only family members…”

“Privacy issues?” John repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “Immediate family? She has no family here,” he said, his voice rising. “I’m the closest…”

“Not close enough,” Holt cut him off quickly. “Anything else you wish to know you will have to ask Officer Sun herself. And don’t be surprised if she can’t fill in the blanks for you.”

“What?” John asked, desperately trying to banish the images that were running rampant through his mind and bury the urge to reach out and strangle Holt.

“Something was slipped into her drink,” the doctor explained. “The effect of that on her unique physiology was…a severe allergic reaction which may cause her some confusion and disorientation regarding the events that took place.”

“What the hell did they give her?” John asked, shaking slightly with the effort of reigning in his white hot rage.  

“That’s confidential information.”

“Did she say anything to anyone about what…happened?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Your people?” John asked Holt.

“No. Ryan and Roberts were off duty, just taking her out for dinner. It seems they thought she had been a little…down lately. Apparently the men responsible…”

“Men?” John asked quietly. ”More than one?”

”The abrasions and bruising found indicate Officer Sun was…physically assaulted while under the influence. Skin found under her fingernails indicates that she managed to scratch her attackers. Evidence indicates there were two of them.”

He spun on his heel and walked out of the room. As the door closed behind him, he began walking blindly down the hallway. Pushing open a door next to the elevators he found himself in the dimly lit staff lounge. He walked to the far side of the room, dropped heavily into a chair and buried his head in his hands.

******************************

“I’m telling you I saw the results,” the voice floated over to him in the darkened lounge as the door opened and footsteps moved over to the refrigerator at the side of the lounge.

“Then what happened to them?”

The door opened, followed by the sound of things being shifted around.  

“I don’t know. We ran a blood panel, came back positive for trace amounts of gamma-hydroxyburate. That plus the bruising we found…you saw the bruising, you know what that means.”

“You ran the kit.”

“Yeah.”

“So why would the paperwork disappear?”

Bags rustled and the door closed.  

“Because look at her. And those agents. And Holt. She’s that alien. You think they’re gonna tell anybody what happened to her?”

Footsteps headed toward the door.

“Somebody pulled those reports.”

“Yeah.”

The hallway light invaded the doorway as it opened and the two nurses left.

He stood up and walked out of the lounge. As the door closed behind him he began jogging down the hallway. Pushing open the door at the far end he threw himself into a stall, falling to his knees as his legs gave out just before he vomited violently.

******************************

He stepped back out into the hall and stopped, at a loss for what to do. Reaching up, he scrubbed viciously at his face before running his hands up through his short hair. Dropping his hands to his sides, standing still as a statue, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

He needed to think. Focus. The rolling wave of nausea washed over him again, and he had to swallow hard against the bile rising in his throat as he fought the urge to vomit again.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to focus on his surroundings. The hallway was empty but he could hear murmuring voices off to his left. He needed to find his dad. Tell him that he would be staying here with Aeryn until she was ready to come home.

Come home? Dumbass. This isn’t her home. It will never be her home.

Shaking himself slightly, he began to walk toward the voices. Halfway down the hall he could make out his father’s voice, quietly arguing with someone he couldn’t quite identify. He wondered briefly what that was about before deciding that he really didn’t care.

Rounding a corner he came upon the small group, seeing his father and Holt a split second before seeing Ryan and Roberts. His vision narrowed to the closer of the two agents, and without even thinking about it he charged Ryan.

Using his left hand to grab him by the collar, John pulled back and drove three quick punches to Ryan’s face, twisting his arm to add force to the blows and driving the first two knuckles of his fist into the agent’s nose, oblivious to the crush of bone beneath his fist.

Ignoring the harshly yelled commands and the reaching hands of the others, John spun him around and pushed him into the nearest wall. Yanking a handful of hair, he beat the agent’s head against it as blood gushed and flew. The others’ hands finally found him, two sets grabbing him by each arm, yanking him back hard from behind.

Letting Ryan drop, John threw his elbows back and hit solid mass before he spun again, driving first one then the other fist into the faces of Roberts and an MP. He turned again and delivered a vicious kick to Ryan’s groin. Several more followed to agent’s ribs and face.

Hands were laid on him again, driving him into the wall, restraining his arms behind him before spinning him around to face a circle of marines drawing down on him.

This isn’t going to help her.

That thought allowed him to recover some semblance of control. His rage throttled back enough for him to stand loosely under the hands holding him.

Looking straight at Holt, Jack placed himself between his son and the armed men. Holt nodded briefly to Jack and then waved the other men away as Jack grabbed his son and began pushing him down the hall.

******************************

The three men faced off, staring at each other in the small hospital room Jack had shoved John into. Low light from the head of the bed was the only illumination and the night sky shone black and starless outside the window.

Nothing had been said in the minute span of time since John had been restrained in the hallway. The only sounds audible were the quicker than normal breathing of father and son, the wail of an ambulance on its way in and the muted sounds of duty nurses in the hallway.

“What did you think you were doing?” Holt finally asked, staring hard at John.

“What part of that didn’t you understand?”

“It is not up to you to…discipline…my agents. They will be dealt with through appropriate channels.”

“I just took care of that for you.”

“You are not even supposed to be here. And your reaction was a bit…excessive. Unless there is something we should know about your relationship with this…alien?”

“Discipline? Excessive? Do you ever really listen to yourself?" John seethed, taking a step toward Holt. "Appropriate channels? What would those be?"

“A report was filed with the local authorities. You have to understand the reality here. With a lack of information and solid evidence, it’s not likely they’ll spend much time or have much success looking for the people that randomly did this. It’s nothing personal. It was just bad luck and bad timing that she…”

“Aeryn,” John growled. “Her name is Aeryn.”

“That Aeryn was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”    

“And that’s the story you’re gonna tell her? What if her story is…different?”

“I don’t think she has a story to tell,” Holt said deliberately, his eyes cold and hard as he stared at John.

“What?”

“She was incoherent when Ryan and Roberts found her. Couldn’t tell them anything about what happened to her. She floated in and out of consciousness on the way in and didn’t seem aware of her surroundings.” He shrugged. “One effect of whatever they used on her is that it triggers a sort of amnesia.”

“And that’s supposed to make this better? If she can’t remember being violated then that’s ok? That’s supposed to make this all right?”

“John…” Jack began before his son rounded on him.

“Rape is rape and this should not have happened to her. She’s…alone…here and…”

I was supposed to protect her.

“What makes you think she was raped?” Holt asked.

“You gonna try to tell me she wasn’t?” John challenged.

“I’ve already told you…”

“You wanna bet your life on that?”  

“Could you leave us alone here, please?” Jack asked quietly.

Holt looked at the father and son for one long moment before nodding briefly to Jack and walking out of the room.

******************************

“John…”

“Don’t start, Dad.”

“I am going to start. What the hell was that?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to.”

“I want the damn answers,” Jack exploded. “You just damn near beat a man to death and I want to know why.”

 “You have to ask that? You know this isn’t right. If I had been here…”

“If you had been here, what?” Jack asked softly.

“This wouldn’t have happened. But I wasn’t here, now was I?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you made sure I wasn’t here,” he said, quietly accusing his father.

Jack pulled back from that. Forced himself to really look at John. Forced himself to acknowledge that his son was barely recognizable to him. Restless, edgy, and exhausted, John radiated rage, his body virtually humming with anger. Over the years he’d seen this before, and Jack wondered again exactly what had happened to produce this in his son. He tried reaching out again tentatively.

“I did that because I thought you needed to get away…get some space and some time with…”

“With some girl I used to know?” John exploded. “That I’d sit on the dock and fish? How the hell was that supposed to help?”

“Some time and space to yourself with someone who wasn’t close to you. Someone you didn’t feel any real connection to, someone who didn’t necessarily need or want something…from you. I thought maybe you could relax. I didn’t know…”

“Didn’t know what? That I didn’t want to be anywhere with Caroline? That I didn’t want to be gone anywhere away from here at all? That bad things happen when Aeryn and I get…”

“Get what, son?”

“…separated,” he whispered as his body sagged, looking bone weary as he slipped back into the son his father recognized at least physically, his voice so low Jack had to strain to hear it.

“What exactly is your relationship with Aeryn, son?”

John looked past Jack like he wasn’t even there.

“She’s here because of me. On a planet full of hostile people who don’t want her here. It’s my responsibility to protect her.” His voice broke then, under the pain in the center of his chest, and when he continued it was sick with sorrow. “She did that for me.”

“You can’t always protect the people you love, son,” Jack said softly. “Are you in love with her, John?”

“It’s complicated, Dad. Just leave it alone.”

The door to the room suddenly opened, cutting off any further discussion as the doctor stepped in from the hallway.

“I think you’d better come now. She’s awake and…she’s agitated.”

John was moving on the run before he finished speaking, leaving the two men to follow.

******************************

He burst into the exam room and pulled up short, feeling the rage and fear for her he’d kept coiled tightly within his gut explode through his system. She was not only awake but up. And she was cornered and desperate.

Eyes glazed and slightly unfocused. Black shadows like bruises around them. Skin pale and chalky, with a grayish undertone. Near bloodless lips. Breathing rapid and shallow. Arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. Swaying slightly on her feet. Blood dripping down her arm and from her hand, mute evidence to the fact that she’d ripped the IV out so that she could move.

Backed into a corner. Held at bay by a circle of uniformed humans. Even across the room he could feel her fear slice through him like a blade. And he could feel her absolute fury. He knew that it was directed at her situation. At her total sense of isolation. At him.

“Aeryn…” John began.

Her eyes snapped up and over to him. Terrified and angry. Even from where he stood, he could see she was close to exploding. He felt the same and had to force himself to calm before trying to reach her. She spoke before he could.

“I’d like to leave now,” she said to him quietly, voice shaking, but with finality.

He felt the words as a physical slap and forced himself to meet the look in her eyes. And felt sickened that she seemed ashamed and angry and afraid to be asking him. As if she had no right to ask. As if she thought that he might not back her on this.

“There is no way she should leave now. We’d like to…” the doctor began.

You could do this for her, couldn’t you? Bastard.

“Where are her clothes?” John growled, ruthlessly cutting him off. Taking a step back, the man tried again.

“She needs to be…”

“I can take care of her,” he snapped, narrowing his eyes and fixing the doctor with a cold stare. “Where are her clothes?”

A nurse moved into view, bag in hand. She waited until Aeryn reached out a hand and then moved toward the Sebacean. The second nurse moved off and the doctor looked at John.

“Come with me. While she’s getting ready I can tell what to do when you get her home.”

Never taking his eyes from Aeryn, John slowly backed up, shoving his anger, shame, and frustration back into their cage. He didn’t need that right now. She didn’t. It wouldn’t help.

He needed to get her out of here.

The nurse pulled the curtain closed and he turned away to follow the doctor.

******************************

She’d walked out under her own power. No wheelchair. She hadn’t let anyone help or touch her. Nothing to call attention to them as they were leaving. Nothing to indicate how weak she must be. Nothing to indicate that she had almost just died.

She hadn’t let him help or touch her either. Not out of the building, not over to the car, not into the car. She’d let him open the door, but backed away from his outstretched hand and unsteadily settled herself in the passenger’s seat without help. She’d belted herself in and then wrapped her arms around her middle, further collapsing her body.

He’d closed the door as he closed his eyes, trying to tamp down his sense of shame, helplessness, and frustration. Taking a deep breath, he walked around the car, opened the door and settled himself into the driver’s seat. Sliding his eyes over to her he noticed that she’d compacted into an even smaller space, if that was possible, and was leaning into the door.

Away from him.

He wondered again where she could find the inner strength to cope with what had happened, along with all that he had inflicted on her since her return. And he wondered again what had happened to her while she was gone that would make her willing to put up with this here and now with him.

He ventured another furtive look at her and flinched. She’d wrapped her arms around herself tightly. Shoulders slumped, head bowed, trembling and pale, he thought he’d never seen her look more vulnerable. His throat tightened as he tried to swallow against the lump there.

The silence stretched out between them, awkward and anything but comforting. They were out of the parking lot and well clear of the base before she ventured to speak.

“I’m sorry,” she began softly, so softly he had to strain to hear her.

Again he felt like he’d been slapped. His breathing hitched and his heart skipped a beat. Shame clutched at his gut, making his response sharper than he’d intended.

“Sorry? What are you sorry for?”

“Ruining your weekend,” she murmured, sounding unfocused and confused.

“You didn’t ruin my weekend,” he replied, swallowing bile along with shame.

“They called you. When I got…sick. Didn’t they?”

“Dad called.”

“You were supposed to be gone longer, so I’m sorry I ruined your weekend,” she repeated, brow furrowing as she tried to concentrate on forming the words.    

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he said slowly and clearly, trying to reach her. “I was already at the mansion. I came back early.”

“Why?”

“I…just wanted to come home,” he said softly.

“I’m sorry this is what you had to come home to,” she said flatly, her voice a toneless whisper.

“Don’t apologize. This…isn’t your fault. I mean…it’s ok if you don’t remember anything. The doctor said you probably wouldn’t…” he trailed off, the platitudes ringing hollow and empty in his ears and his gut.

“I remember,” she slurred around a tongue thick and uncooperative.

The soft-spoken words were barely audible even in the close confines of the car, but he flinched from the implications and images inherent in them. Too much distance for too long, and he couldn’t even talk to her when he wanted to. He concentrated on driving the next few blocks.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” John asked, trying again, tentatively, afraid of the answer.

“This has been difficult enough for you, us…why complicate it further?”

“Talking about it wouldn’t complicate if further.”

“Who would I talk to?”

He felt more than saw her coil even more tightly into herself, and something deep inside him shriveled and died. He wondered again at just who he’s become that he can do this to her.  

 “Aeryn, no matter how frelled…things…we…are now…”

“How frelled we are now?”

“Aeryn…” he began.

Suddenly he was scared shitless, bile rising in his throat, lead ball settling in his gut. Of all the things that scared him, this was the biggest. He couldn’t feel her, and that wasn’t the lakka numbed haze he’d been operating in lately. She was just gone and he couldn’t find her. He couldn’t feel anything. Raw desperation radiated through him.

“There’s nothing to be done,” she whispered.

“There’s always something that can be done.”

Sure, babe, there’s lakka and lies. You bastard.

They drove the rest of the way in silence. He listened to her quiet breathing, slid his eyes toward her frequently. Hers were always closed.

******************************

He pulled up into the driveway at the mansion. She didn’t move as he shut off the ignition and pulled the keys out. He thought she might have been asleep. But as he moved to open his door, her voice floated over to him in the confined space.

“I don’t think you should come in.”

“Why not?” John asked sharply, again more sharply than he intended. Blind panic coursed through his veins at the thought that he might finally have pushed her far enough that she would deny him to any chance to…

Comfort her? Protect her? You can’t even do that for her now, can you?

“The others will wonder why you’re here with me so early in the morning. They’ll want to know. They’ll ask questions.” She moved gingerly to unbuckle the seat belt and reached to open the door.

Questions maybe she didn’t want to answer.

She’s still trying to protect you. You really are a useless son-of-a-bitch. Take care of her. Think about what she needs.

“I’m just glad you’re ok,” he whispered as her door opened.

He desperately did not want to let her out of his sight and had to force himself not to reach out and touch her, afraid of what would happen if he did.

Moving slowly, she gingerly eased her body around and swung her feet out of the car to rest on the ground. Shifting slowly forward, she rocked for a moment before going still once again. With her back to him and her voice soft and low, he had to strain to hear her words as they again floated back to him.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” she said quietly before leveraging herself out of the car.

His eyes never left her as she walked slowly and unsteadily up to the door and into the mansion.

******************************

John made himself sit there, unmoving for a quarter of an arn. Tightened muscles encased in rigid control. He felt drunk with exhaustion, hollow with bitterness and cold. Somewhere deep inside rage and sorrow roiled within him, joining guilt and shame in a raging torrent of fury that threatened to drag him under.

You can remember unwelcome hands touching you in ways and places you didn’t want to be touched. Drugged and violated. Powerless and exposed. You feel sick with shame and guilt and rage. You’re shaking with it and would vomit if you could.

He shook himself from his reverie, forced himself to calm. Popped open the center console and reached in blindly, fingers digging to find the comms. Pulled the unit out and activated it.

“Yo, Pilot,” he said quietly, looking up at the second story windows.

“Yes, Commander. What can I do for you?”

“Pilot, can you have Moya run a bioscan of the area?”

“What is she looking for?”

“A match for a DNA sample from underneath Aeryn’s fingernails.”

“DNA that is not Aeryn’s…from underneath Aeryn’s fingernails?”

“Yes, Pilot. Can Moya do that?”

“Yes, Commander, she can. What would you like me to do if Moya finds the…match?”

“Just let me know, Pilot.”

“Commander?”

“Yes, Pilot?”

“Is everything all right…with Aeryn?”

“Yeah, Pilot, everything is fine.”

“There is…nothing wrong with Aeryn, is there?”

“No, Pilot, Aeryn is…fine.”

“I will let you know what Moya finds.”

“Thank you. Pilot.”

His fist closed involuntarily over the unit and then he shoved it into his pants pocket. He brought his hands up quickly, jammed the heels into his eyes, and then scrubbed at his face. The sound of his own jagged breathing was harsh in his ears. Suddenly the confined space was too much for him. Throwing open the door, he got out of the car quickly and found himself standing in the driveway unsure of what to do next.

He wanted to care for her, protect her.

She’d changed so much when he wasn’t looking. Or even there. He’d always wanted to be there, but somehow missed all the important things. All the ones that had all come at such a terrible cost. He felt sick with the bitterness of responsibility and loss. With guilt, shame, and his own sense of failure.  

You'd left her alone on that false Earth. Left her alone on the Royal Planet. Left her alone on Dam-Ba-Da. Left her alone on a dying Command Carrier. Left her alone on Moya. Left her alone on a real Earth. Left her lost and alone to walk the no man’s land between the living and the dead.

Suddenly he’s tired of being a pawn, of being played, of always being pushed. Tired of choices which weren’t really choices, of decisions that were mistakes.  He didn’t want to know, didn’t want to think about what had happened all those times in all those places he’d left her.

He found himself gasping, trying to fill his lungs with air. He straightened and looked up. The sunrise was fire burning on the horizon, slashing great orange-red streaks across the rapidly lightening early morning sky. He was running out of time. Squaring his shoulders, he began slowly to walk toward the front door.

*******************************

John slid into the foyer and silently closed the door behind him. Silence reigned throughout the mansion.  He moved quickly and quietly to the stairs, listened for any tell tale sign of movement, and then started to silently climb, his long legs taking two steps at a time. Stood listening when he reached the top, assigning names to the closed doors as he moved down the hall. Chiana, D’Argo, Rygel…Aeryn.

Stopping at the open bathroom door, he stepped in quickly, closing it behind him and flipping on the light. Running the cold water, he looked at himself in the mirror. Day old growth on his face, hollow cheeks, dark circles around his eyes.

You look like shit.

He cupped his hand under the running water as he leaned over the sink. Scooped a handful of water into his mouth, swished it around for a minute before spitting it out and repeating the process. Stuck both hands, cupped under the faucet and scooped the water up to splash on his face.

He shivered at the shock, shaking his head. Then he did it again before reaching for the towel. He looked at himself in the mirror again, and hardly recognized the face staring back.

Rough night. Not as bad as hers, though.

And the guilt, shame, anguish, and anger all burst their bonds again. Along with the rage. Made his gut clench and sent rolling waves of nausea through him.

You couldn’t teach her how to drive. You didn’t take her to the beach. Or to a ball game. Or out for a ride. You didn’t watch sunrises or sunsets together. You’d wanted this for so long, to have her here on Earth with you. You’d fantasized about all the things you would do, say. And you got none of it. This would be what you shared with her.  

He leaned over the sink, pressed his forehead to the cool surface of the mirror, and waited for the wave of nausea to pass.  

Rape. Grayza.

He’d managed to keep that buried deep. Hadn’t touched it, hadn’t gone near it, not even in his nightmares, since it happened. Hadn’t asked himself why. Was just grateful the bitch didn’t make encore appearances in his head. The memory flared now in his head in its full-blown obscenity. Complete with the sickly sweet smell of the oil. He leaned over the sink again and threw up this time.

Now Aeryn had a matching memory.

He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes, feeling the pinprick of glass shards in them. Swallowed hard in a constricted throat against the surging swell of rage and shame.

You’re killing her and yourself. You can’t even protect her from this.

He straightened up and shook himself. Tried to quiet the fine trembling in his limbs as he breathed slowly, deeply, waiting to see if his stomach had anything left to expel.

You shouldn’t be here. She told you that. Think about her. What she wants. What she needs. Get Chiana to check on her.

He looked at himself in the mirror again and then opened the door, switched off the light, and stepped back out into the still darkened hallway.

He knew he should get Chiana. Let her take care of Aeryn. He knew he shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be doing this. He couldn’t stop himself to save his soul.

You’d get Chiana later.

He walked quickly down the hall toward the partially opened door of Aeryn’s bedroom. Slid silently into the room and stopped, letting his eyes adjust. His heart hitched and his breathing stopped.

Her clothing from the night before had been dropped in a pile by the bed.

Unusual messiness for your girl.

He flinched at the implications even as he let his eyes continue to scan the room.

Until he found her.

Aeryn lay curled in on herself in a tight ball, knees drawn up and arms curled, fists buried under her chin, wearing only a black tank and boxers.  

He moved forward tentatively, one step at a time, his eyes never leaving her. Reaching her bedside, he dropped to his knees, hands resting on the bed. He couldn’t bring himself to touch her yet, so very afraid of disturbing her.

He thought that she’d barely made it to the bed from the way her body had collapsed on it.

In the early morning light just beginning to filter in through the curtains on the window he looked at her face, wreathed by the midnight hair still damp from her shower, bones showing through the near translucent paleness of her skin. His hand reached out of its own volition to hover over her hair. He pulled it back with a sudden surge of shame.

You don’t have the right to touch her.

He brought his face closer still and looked closely and carefully at her. For the first time…in how long, he wondered. Traced her face with his eyes, taking in the arch of her eyebrow, the long lashes against her pale cheek, noticed her slow, deep breathing. She was asleep. Deep and unresponsive. The doctor had said it would be like this. His hand again moved to touch her.

How long has it been since you touched her? Felt her?

Two fingers traced feather light over her brow, down her cheek and around her lips. He leaned in to press his lips softly to each in turn. Brow, nose, cheek, lips. Taking warmth and comfort from the contact, he wanted to return some small measure of that to her. And knew that he couldn’t. He wanted desperately for her to wake up and look at him, but was desperately afraid of what would happen if she did.

God, you loved touching her.

John leaned back and slid the backs of his fingers gently up her cheek, turning his fingertips over to softly trace the shell of her ear before trailing them down her neck to where it joined her shoulder. He lowered his head again to kiss that spot gently, ashamed of himself for taking this from her when he’d given nothing of himself to her in so long.

He thought about how little he’d made her smile. How little he’d smiled at her. How he’d never done the simple things. How instead he’d made her feel isolated and alone where she should have felt at home.  

Selfish bastard.

His hand moved whisper soft down her arm, caressing the silky skin in spots that had no bruising.

Bruises in the form of fingers.

He shook himself and let the rage run through him. Refused to let it touch her. When he was sure it was caged again, he put his hand gently on her hip. Traced soft circles there before sliding slowly down to softly stroke her upper thigh, long and pale, again avoiding the dark purple bruises blossoming there.

“What are you doing in here?” Rygel’s harsh whisper cut through the silence. John stood and spun in one fluid motion at the sound, taking a defensive stance in front of Aeryn, trying to shield her from the Hynerian’s interested gaze. “What’s wrong with her?”

“What the hell are you doing in here?” John rasped. “Jesus Christ, Sparky. You shouldn’t be sneaking up on people.”

The Hynerian just looked offended at the thought that there was anything he shouldn’t be doing and maneuvered his thronesled around John to get a closer look at Aeryn. Drawing up short as he caught sight of the bruises on her body, he turned to look at the human with narrowed eyes.

“Nothing’s wrong, Rygel,” John lied quietly. “She’s just sleeping.”

“Of course she is,” Rygel said. “That doesn’t answer why you are here in her room.”      

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sparky,” John whispered, bringing his fingers to his lips to shush the dominar. He stepped toward the thronesled and began moving forward, herding Rygel to the open door. “I just stopped by to see how you all were doing.”

“After that call last night? After the way you ran out of here? With those bruises on Aeryn? At this arn? Honestly, Crichton. How stupid do you think we are?”  

“Let it go, Rygel,” John commanded, his voice low and harsh. “Aeryn’s just sleeping and I’m just here to see how you all are doing,” he repeated, pushing forward again so that the dominar had backed out into the hallway. “Just let it go.”

“Fine, Crichton. I’ll let it go. Why should I care about what you do? I don’t care what you do. But, you should know it’s not working.”

“What’s not working?”

“This pathetic attempt of yours to convince us you no longer care for Aeryn. The only ones who actually believe that dren are that big yotz of a Luxan and Aeryn herself.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” John said again.

“Believe it or not, I actually like Aeryn. And believe it or not, you are hurting her terribly. Whatever reason you have for doing it, I hope it is worth it to you in the end. Because in the end, you are the one who has to live with yourself if she is gone. And you know how well you do that.”

John opened his mouth to speak, then snapped it shut without saying a word. The Hynerian spun on his thronesled and took off quickly down the hallway. John stepped back into the room, closed and locked the door. He turned again to the woman lying on the bed and crossed the distance with long, silent strides.

Standing at the foot of the bed he toed off his shoes. Went around the bed and pulled back the covers, sliding gently in next to her, alert to even the slightest sign that she was aware.

She never moved.

He scooted over to wrap himself around her, the distance of a breath, back to belly. Pulled the covers over them, cocooning them in their own little world. Snaked an arm over her midsection to fuse them and tangled the other hand in her hair.

He could count her ribs. Wondered again when she’d gotten so very thin. Pulled her even closer and could feel her tight muscles, locked and rigid, still trying to protect herself even in her unconscious state. And then it dawned on him. She was curled around her midsection, protecting her baby.

He felt sick.

 “I should have listened to you, baby,” he murmured, nuzzling her ear. “All those times. Could have backed off, tried to help you figure things out. I’m sorry,” he whispered fiercely. “I fucked up. And you know how I hate being wrong, screwing things up.”

He thought he’d made up his mind. Gotten clear on what he should do. Made the right decision to protect her. It would all be worth it in the end if he could only protect her. He’d been playing games. Playing fast and loose with the one thing he couldn’t afford to lose. And he’d gotten sloppy.

Out there or here. Then or now. Light years and time and there is still only one point of convergence in his universe.

He wondered if he would always be just in time to fail her. Disgusted with himself, he wondered why he wasn’t stronger. His arm tightened around her as he nuzzled against her cheek. Kissed the spot on her jaw line just below her ear, dropped a kiss on her bare shoulder.

He’d give himself a quarter arn…half an arn at most, as he relearned how to breathe. Then he would go get Chiana.

And then he would go.

All the times he’d thought about it. Every way he’d fantasized it. She was here in his arms. He was wrapped tightly around her in their own little cocoon. They were on Earth. And the sun was shining.

He wanted to cry.  

“Aeryn,” you call roughly. “Wait.”

She’s marching down the corridor, heels clicking furiously. Deep inside panic flares, driving you to close the distance and reach out to grab her.  Spinning quickly she knocks your hand off her shoulder. Her free hand shoves hard against your chest, sending you back two steps. It’s enough to give her room to spin again and start walking.

The lights go out, but you know where she’s going. The walls are closing in on you and you can hear a clock ticking loudly. You stumble forward in the sudden darkness, but can’t quite seem to catch up to her.

“Wait. Aeryn. Wait. Please.”

You stumble to your knees over a DRD. Getting up, you’re confused for a microt before taking off again. You’ll beg and plead, but you won’t let her do this.  Light seeping into the corridor lets you know that she has palmed open the door to her cell. You see her briefly before she disappears inside.

It’s closed by the time you get there. Reaching out, you palm it open again. Her bag is open on the bed and she is already packing. You feel thick and heavy, leaden moving in your nightmare.

She’s leaving you again. The pain inside explodes and you know that on this side of desperate you are just short of stable. You want so much to come clean, get the right words out, to explain and make her stay.

“Are you happy now?”

The voice floats over to you taunting in its familiarity. You spin and face…

“John Crichton. Perfect.”

“What’s going on, John?”

“You’re dead.”

“Of course I am,” he says reasonably, leaning up against the wall. “And that should have made things so much better for you.”

“Better? Riiiight. Thanks so much,” you sneer, wanting to wipe that reasonable look right off his face. “It’s a nightmare. Earth. My life. Clusterfuck.”

“Aeryn?”

“You do not get to talk to me about Aeryn.”

“Of course I do. I may be dead, but I still love her. And you’ve made such a mess of everything.”

“I made a mess? You damn near killed her.”

“Yeah, but I’m not the one who broke her and I am not the one she feared.”

“You left her pregnant and alone.”

“So did you,” he says quietly.

“She came back to me,” you spit at him before going to her.

“Aeryn,” you say, pulling her to face you. “Wait. I love you.”

The words sound incredibly lame and pathetic to you and panic claws its way out of your gut to burn through your veins even before she answers.

“No, you don’t,” she says twisting out of your grasp. “You’ve made that very obvious.”

“What did you think she would think? For Christ’s sake, you just got back from a weekend with Caroline. Of course she’s gonna understand how much you love her.”

“Fuck you. You are not gonna talk to me about this. You left her.”

“I never wanted to leave her.”

“Yeah, I know, it was perfect. You’d have brought her to Earth and that would’a been perfect too.”

“You wished for home, for your past and all your dreams. You always wish for what you can’t have."

“Aeryn is home,” you whisper.

“Then what are you doing?”

“Cleaning up the mess you left. Peacekeepers and Scarrans…the whole save the universe thing.”

“Now that’s the John we all know and love. Arrogant and ignorant. Have you learned nothing?”

“Fear is the answer.”

“You fear everything. You’re supposed to be scared shitless, not stupid.”

“My shift. My watch. My dance. You had your shot. You burned it.”

“And you’ve broken every promise you ever made to her.”

He moved to stand behind Aeryn. And god help you, as much as you hated the bastard’s guts, you still wanted to die when you saw how he was looking at her. Such love, longing, and loss…god you knew that feeling so well.

“Still, I knew she’d come back to you,” he said softly. “After everything she’d been through, you still wanted to hurt her. Make her pay for hurting you. Isn’t that what this is all about?”

“That is not what this is all about. I love her and I’m trying to protect her.”

“With this?” He holds up the bulb, rolls it in his fingers. “That’s lame ass and you know it. You can lie to me, don’t lie to yourself.”

“It’s to protect her.”

“Retconning big time aren’t you, boy? You were hurt and you were angry and you’d had a ton of bad karma,” he said, shrugging. “You wanted to share a little pain. You wanted a little relief.”  

“I don’t owe you any explanation.”

“What about her? You owe her anything? I mean, besides pain?”

“That’s between me and Aeryn.”

“Come back when you get your story straight?”

You swallowed hard against the bile rising in your throat at the disgusted look on his face and in his voice because that was exactly what haunted your memories every time you thought of that encounter with Aeryn.

“None of your fucking business.”

“I trust you with my life…but not my heart.”

You'd known when those words spilled out of your gut and from your mouth that she didn’t deserve that.

“Our relationship.”

“The relationship you’re not having? Where do get off talking to her about trust? You don’t even speak the language.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Uncomplicate it.”

“Go to hell.”

“It was all yours. Everything you ever wanted. She came back to you. All you had to do was love her. You’re weak. A coward. You’d rather trust an old woman and her powder than yourself. Than Aeryn.”

“I’ll fix this. I’ll make this right.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” John exploded. “You think you’re just gonna kick back later and tell her stories of Earth, share it with her? Share everything you wouldn’t when she was here? You can’t even talk to her.”

You recognize the look of disgust on his face. You’ve felt it, seen it in the mirror on your own often enough. And his next question hits you like a sledgehammer in the gut.

“Why couldn’t you just love her?”

“She’ll understand.”

She’ll understand that nowhere is home and everything is wrong without her. Moving quickly, you cross the room to stand next to Aeryn.

“You really think your lies are enough to keep her here?”

You ignore him and move to block Aeryn as she continues getting ready to leave you.

“You do this baby, and we’ll never see each other again,” you say, trying to catch her eyes, get her to look at you. “Please, Aeryn. There’s no home, no wormhole. There’s only you. Anywhere in the universe.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, pushing past you on her way to get more of her things.

“Looks like she’s leaving you again,” he observes.

“No. She is not leaving again. She is not leaving without me.”

“All your fear has already pushed her away.”

“I love her. And I will not let the one thing I love walk away.”

“You think she’ll forgive you for this? What do you want, John?”

You want to share secrets with her. To walk along the beach hand in hand, hold her in your arms and watch the sun set together. You want to talk to her, laugh with her. You want to dance with her. You want to feel her. Snuggled up against you under the covers in your bed.

You want her body to welcome you. To lose yourself in the feel of her skin, the depths of her eyes, the taste of her mouth. You want to make love to her long and slow, hard, urgent and fast, all night long. To feel her beneath you as your lips, tongue, and hands claimed her.  You want to wake up with her in your arms and watch the sunrise.

And you want to do it over and over and over again.

“Her.”

“She’s already too far gone for you to hold onto.”

“So where does that leave us?”

“I love her. I want her.  She should be with me. Guess you’ll have to let her go.”

Time slows and a scream dies in your throat as he pulls Winona and fires. You fall to your knees and the red haze clouding your vision is the color of Aeryn’s blood covering your hands as you cradle her to your chest.

Soaked in sweat, breathing harsh and ragged, John jerked upright in his bed to find himself sighting down the barrel of Winona. He began to tremble violently in the darkness of his room as he lowered his arm and brought her to sit in his lap. Blindly he reached to the bedside table and grabbed clumsily for his comms unit, still shaking as he oriented himself.

“Yo Pilot,” he gasped, shoving his weapon back under the pillow.

“Yes, Commander?” Pilot’s voice floated softly in the darkened room.

“What’s going on? Has Moya been able to complete that bioscan yet?”

“Yes, Commander, she has.”

“Moya’s found something?”    

Seconds ticked by and the silence stretched out as John waited for him to continue. When it became obvious Pilot wouldn’t, he tried again.

“What did Moya find, Pilot?” John asked quietly.

“Moya has identified the locations of the individuals matching the DNA samples you asked us to analyze.”

“That’s…good, Pilot.”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Ok. Pilot, just give me a quarter arn and then you can give me…”

“No, Commander.”

“What?”  

“Moya and I will not be giving you that information, Commander.”

“Why not, Pilot?” John asked, his voice going low and dangerous.

“Because you lied to us, Commander.”

“What?”

“You assured us that Aeryn was well.”

“And…”

“Moya was very…distressed.”

“Distressed? About what?”

“Your request. And she was deeply concerned about…Aeryn. Her scans indicated…”

“Aeryn is…fine, Pilot.”

“She does not sound fine.”

“What do you mean, she doesn’t sound fine? Have you talked to Aeryn, Pilot?”

“Moya and I were very worried about her, Commander.”

“You commed her?” John asked.

“On a secure channel and we only spoke briefly. Moya and I wanted to be sure she was….all right. We were very upset.”

“Did you tell Aeryn about my…request?”

“Yes, Commander. She asked why we were inquiring about her well-being, and…she asked us not to tell you what Moya’s scan had found.”

“Pilot, I really need…”

“No.”

“They hurt her, Pilot,” he whispered. “Badly.”

“Commander…”

“Please, Pilot,” John asked quietly, waiting as his heartbeats stretched out.

“I will talk to Moya.”    

“Thank you, Pilot.”

“You’re welcome, Commander.”

Pilot would tell him. He and Moya would want to help Aeryn. They loved her, and that was the only thing John was still sure of now.  

He put the unit back on the table, glancing at the time. Six o’clock. Already getting dark. He’d grab a shower and get something to eat. And then he would get back to Pilot.

******************************

“I call this one right and it’s a hundred bucks in the pool,” the lanky, dark haired man slouched on the couch said, tossing a beer to his companion sitting in the recliner. The lighter haired man, slightly shorter and stockier, caught it in one hand.

“Who’s playing?” John asked conversationally from behind them.

Two pairs of very startled eyes snapped toward the sound. One pair rose as the owner came off the couch, knocking the bowl of chips onto the floor.

“What the fuck…” he snarled before stopping dead at the sight of the armed man standing across the room.

“Stop right there. Sit down,” John suggested, gesturing slightly with Winona. “Thought you wanted to watch the game.”

The man slowly sat, eyes never leaving the pistol leveled at him. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he found the breath and ability to form words. His voice, when it came, was harsh and grating.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Nobody you know,” John said, the tension in his jaw and the frigid blue of his eyes belying his soft, conversational tone. “Just some guy in from out of town for a little while. Who’s playing?”

“What?”

Pointing Winona at the dark haired man, he asked quietly, “What’s your name?”

The man looked at John and then at Winona, before replying hoarsely, “Jake.”

John shifted Winona’s aim slightly to indicate the lighter haired man in the chair. “You?”

“Sam,” he choked out roughly.  

“What the hell…” Jake began.

John shifted suddenly and Jake’s eyes snapped wide open as Winona pointed directly at him.

“Who’s playing?” John asked again, voice low and dangerous.

“Who are you?” Sam croaked.

“Green Bay and…Minnesota,” Jake replied slowly after taking a deep breath. Bringing a hand up carefully to point at Winona he continued, “You might wanna take it easy with that thing.”

“Don’t worry. I got it under control,” John drawled. “We’re just gonna have a little talk.”

“Put that thing down and we’ll talk,” Sam offered hoarsely.

“I don’t think so. Not yet. We have some unfinished business.”

“We don’t know you,” Jake rasped, his hands coming up as his voice rose.  

“No, you don’t,” John agreed, gesturing him back into his seat with a wave of Winona. “But you’ve met a friend of mine.”

“Who?” Sam whined.

“Pretty girl, about this tall,” John explained quietly, bringing his free hand up close to his left eye. “Thin, beautiful face, beautiful black hair…”

“Last night,” Sam breathed heavily, beads of sweat beginning to gather at his hairline and along his upper lip.

“Yeah, last night,” John said, looking at him intently. “You like to hurt them? Mess them up? That the only way you can get any?”

“Man, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jake began to ramble. His voice rose in pitch and volume as the words came faster. “Take it easy. Don’t do anything stupid. Put the gun down. We didn’t do anything…”

“You drugged her and then you raped her,” John hissed, his body humming with a focused fury.

“No, man, I swear. It wasn’t like that,” Jake gasped as his hands came up, palms out, eyes wide and flicking between the pistol and the cold, calm face of the man holding it.

“Don’t do this, please,” Sam begged, rocking back and forth.

“And then you left her…lying in a back alley to die,” John whispered, taking a step forward.

“We didn’t know she was so messed up…”  Jake began.

“Please don’t do this,” Sam sobbed.

“Shut the fuck up,” John snapped.

His finger on the trigger tightened. The body on the couch jerked backwards and then crumbled as John twisted a quarter turn and fired again. The body on the recliner spasmed and then stilled, arms and legs splayed.

He reached for the remote and turned off the game on his way out the back door.

******************************

Sunshine streaming through the window coverings and the clock on the bedside table told her that it was mid morning. She was standing in the bedroom, pale and ill, arms wrapped tightly around her midsection and rocking.

Her head hurt from falling in the shower earlier that morning. Or maybe it was from something else. She wasn’t quite sure and couldn’t quite remember. It almost felt like this pain was caused by more than that. Caused by lack of food, lack of sleep, lack of sanity. Suddenly she felt lost, threatened, vulnerable and powerless.

Her ears hurt from all the words. Words that people thought she didn’t take seriously. Words that they thought she didn’t understand. Words that John didn’t speak. She was aware of it all. So very helplessly aware of the fact that she couldn’t do or say anything to fix anything. She hated that feeling. That knowledge. So she remained silent.

Her mouth hurt from speaking. From trying to explain to people. To John. Her mouth hurt from trying to talk because she knew they wouldn’t listen. Yet when they asked, she spoke. John didn’t ask anymore.  

Her legs hurt from running. Running away from her life. Running away from everyone. And then from trying to run back. She’d run from questions, skirted issues, and shut everyone off. And then she'd tried to run toward something. But her legs had grown tired and she seemed to keep running into dizzy oblivion.

Her body hurt from the truth, the truth that this place was not for her. That she had done nothing but make more mistakes, and that she had tried everything she could think of. And that all of this was nothing. That was the only truth she knew anymore. That this had been her apology and that it had been an apology unheard.

She realized suddenly that she was shaking, and rubbed her hands up and down her arms briskly. They were going up to Moya today, she comforted herself. She was going home.

******************************

The two men stepped into the hanger and stopped, waiting as their eyes adjusted to the relative darkness of the interior.

“What did you think you were doing?” Holt quietly challenged as he came up to stand behind them.

“We’re going up to Moya,” John drawled. “You’re welcome to come along if you’d like. Might be nice, get away for awhile.”

“How did you find them?”

“Did you think I couldn’t?” John asked. “Wouldn’t?”

“Did you think we wouldn’t find out? The local authorities may not be overly observant, but they do tend to notice when two guys get their faces blown off watching Sunday Night Football. Especially when no one around has ever seen any kind of weapon that could have done that kind of…damage. They called us.”  

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter. Do you have any idea what kind of mess you’ve made? How difficult you’ve made this? For no reason? It was just bad timing that she…”

“Aeryn," John said harshly. "Her name is Aeryn.”

“What is wrong with you?" Holt hissed, livid. "There was no need for this…”

“No need for this?”

“Whatever happened to Officer Sun does not give you the right to make…the kind of decisions you have been making.”

“Why? Because you say so?”

“You can’t…”

“I can. I did.”

“You could have…”

“Told you? And then what?

“There are…”

“Channels? Procedures? Protocols?”

“Yes,” Holt spit, voice as cold and hard as his eyes

 “For cleaning up the mess?”  John growled, taking a step forward. “I just saved you some sweat. So go do your damn job. Clean it up. Cover it up. Take care of it.”

“You’re making it very complicated.”

“Uncomplicate it.”

Holt spun on his heel and stalked out of the hangar and into a waiting car. John turned to face his father as he felt the older man step toward him.

“John, what did you…”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to, Dad.”

“Damn it, John! I want the fucking answers,” Jack exploded. “So cut the crap. What the hell is going on?”

John’s eyes raked the hangar before he grabbed Jack by the arm, led him around outside the hangar. Stopping suddenly, Jack squinted in the sunlight as he turned to face his son.

“I don’t understand.”

“I can’t help you with that.”

“John…”

“Dad…” John cut him off, taking a step closer, rigid, hands balled into fists as a torrent of rage and grief washed over, through, and finally out of him.

“This isn’t you,” Jack said quietly, looking at his son. “What did you do?”

“I can’t tell you, and anyway, you wouldn’t understand.”

“You’re my son.”

“You don’t…know me.”

“You’re my son,” he repeated softly.

“People do a lot of…things for people…that they love.”

“Does she mean that much to you son? Is she everything?”

Hands down, Dad. Everything else comes in a distant second.

Jack searched his son’s face, apparently found what he was looking for, and thought about love, loss, and what was in-between for a moment before saying anything.

“That’s good then, son. That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

Jack watched John’s body sag in relief as he let out a quiet sigh. He rolled his shoulders and then his neck. Jack was grateful to see the pain in his son’s eyes mute, but felt there were at least a few more things to say.

“You’re sure about your choice? Your timing?”

“Yeah,” John said, his lips twitching. “But it really is…”

“Complicated?”

“Right. And I need some…”

“Time?”

“Yeah.”

“John…”

“Dad, don’t,” John said as he looked at his father’s stricken face. “We should find Aeryn. We should get going.”

The two of them simply stared at one another for a very long moment. Then Jack inclined his head in an almost imperceptible nod. John turned and started toward the transport pod.

******************************

The transport reached Moya and settled on the deck of the hanger bay. D’Argo was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs when John came down, followed by Bobby and Jack.

“Awesome!”

“Yeah, and this is just the garage.”

“Come on,” Bobby urged. “Show me more.”

“No,” John said. “I got some stuff I’ve gotta do first.”

He needed to talk to Aeryn. She had been silent and distant the entire trip up to Moya. Letting him pilot the pod, withdrawing into herself, she’d refused to meet his eyes or engage in any of his sporadic attempts at conversation. Jack and Bobby had pretended not to notice.

Cool. Calm. Collected. Completely locked down. Light years away from you.

Suddenly, he’d been terrified, an icy ball leaden in his gut and a cold wind gusting through his chest. In his head he’d wanted this distance to protect her.  He’d worked for it. The possibility that he’d finally pushed her far enough and that she’d gone now cut through him like a dull knife, messy and jagged and painful.

God, please. Not now.

Not before he could make things right.

God, please. No.

He’d tried to do this right, tried to be careful and assess how far he could go while keeping that precious balance. He’d needed to protect her. He’d thought this would be over before any more permanent damage had been inflicted.

He knew he’d been a fool. Through the tiredness he could feel dragging at both of them, he could sense the resignation, the quiet bitterness of defeat. It was all here, all that he ever wanted, and it was slipping away again through his fingers.

The endgame was near, he knew it in his bones, and if she would only stay…give him a chance, he’d make restitution and real reconciliation between them. He didn’t know how, but he would.

One promise you could make to her. One promise you would keep.

He was tired of always being pushed and of her always paying for his mistakes. He wondered again at how he’d come to this place where the anger and the fear and the lies had created too much distance for too long. This place where he couldn’t even find the words he wanted to say.

Promise her?

He knew the words were there. That somewhere they were speaking, even if it was only in the back of his mind. And he knew that if he listened carefully enough, he’d be able to say the right thing at the right time.

You can’t even talk to her.

“1812!”

“I’ll give him the tour, son. I know the way around.”

“No, Jack. It’s a big ship. You’re going to need a sherpa.”

John knelt by 1812.

“Gimme that arm.”

The DRD extended one of its arms and John sprayed it with WD40.

One thing you can make better.

“That should fix it up. It’s a miracle. 1812, this is Bobby. Bobby, this is 1812. 1812 is going to be your tour guide,” John said looking at the DRD. “Don’t let him break anything.”

“I won’t break anything,” Bobby said. “Where’s that Pilot you told me about?”

“I’ll show you,” Jack offered. “You won’t believe it,” he told Bobby as they began to walk away.

“Jack,” John said pointing, “that way.”  

They turned and headed out of the hangar bay.

Standing next to D’Argo John asked, “Do you think they know how to open doors?”

The big Luxan’s snort was answer enough.

“Can you check wormhole stability from Command or do you need to go outside again?”

“No," John replied. "Command will be fine. I’ve had enough EVA to last a lifetime.”

Aeryn silently materialized beside them and addressed D’Argo.

“Apparently all systems check out normal with the Prowler,” she said stiffly, “so the scientists don’t seem to have caused any damage.”

“I made sure that they didn’t,” he replied.

“I appreciate it. Thank you,” she said formally, walking away.

“Okay,” the big Luxan said, patting John on the shoulder. ”Meet you on Command.”

“Thank you,” he replied absently, following Aeryn. “Aeryn…listen up.”

Please listen.

She was already in another bay, looking under her Prowler.

“You got a problem with them poking around with your Prowler, why don’t you leave it here? The IASA boys got enough to look at with D’Argo’s guppy and my module.”

He bent to look under the wing at her. She immediately stood up.

“Would it be better if I stayed here as well?”

Her voice was controlled, but the raw pain radiating from her body and bleeding from her eyes slammed into him like a hammer to his head.

“Why would you want to do that?” John asked quickly, shame burning in his gut.

You can ask her that?

“I’m clearly not fitting in,” she said softly, her voice catching before that pain was quickly caged and locked down again.

Selfish bastard.

“You’re fitting in as well as any of us,” he said, willing her to understand. “Whatever, it’s…up to you.”

So caught up in your own need you don’t know what this is costing her?

“It’s up to me?” Aeryn asked, her voice glass edged and jagged.

You don’t care?

“Yeah, yeah, it’s up to you.”

“Fine, I…well, I don’t mind your scientists poking around with my Prowler. I can even…field-strip a cannon if…”

That’s not what I want, baby. Not what I mean.

“No…don’t do that. Thank you, but don’t do that. They’ve seen enough.”

Aeryn smiled with her lips tightly closed and got up. Following her lead, hoping she wasn’t too far gone, he stood as well and tried one more time.

“You want a hand?”

Talk to me, Aeryn. Please.

“No,” she replied, walking away without looking at him.

“No,” John repeated quietly, standing alone.

What did you expect?

“No, of course you don’t.”