Coming Home

Rating: Hard R
Setting: Post BT
Spoilers: Through Season 4

Warnings: Sex. Not really. Sorry. Maybe next time. This time it’s implied and after the fact. Violence. Yep. There’s some of that. Language. Oh, yeah. Bad words. Dark, adult themes. Yes, yes, yes. The hard R is really for this. If you find dark fic objectionable, if any of the above offend, upset, unsettle, or make you in any way uncomfortable, please do not read this. Really. Consider yourselves warned.

Notes: Companion piece to this is called Right Turn Gets You Home. This has been lying around in various incarnations for awhile now. The prodding of some very sharp, pointy sticks along with some very kind words and encouragement, made it seem like a good time to finish. As always, my undying gratitude and major props to ScaperRed for the beta, and support above and beyond the call of beta duty. To Kaz for the interesting points of view and late night conversations. To WhiteLight for the lovely words and encouragement. And to Susan for the drive-by read-through and the review. As usual, any and all mistakes remain mine.
Disclaimers: Definitely not mine. They belong to Henson, et. al. No copyright infringement intended. There is definitely no money being made.

In the quiet of the darkened room you lay sprawled in a troubled sleep, alone in a bed that was not yours. Your head turned slowly in sleep, jerking occasionally as lips moved without sound, arms and legs quivered, and hands flexed. Small droplets of moisture gathered at your hairline and a fine sheen covered your body, soaking the sheet beneath you.

Your breathing was rapid and shallow as you lay helpless, trapped in your nightmare. From the recesses of your unconscious mind came unbidden images. The images that came every night, every day for over two cycles now. They were as much a part of you as breathing.

Your family, you, Aeryn, and your one cycle old child on a much needed visit planetside for a day of sun and fun. Fresh air and a family picnic. Such a simple plan. What could go wrong? Everything once the Scarran scouts showed up.

You’d scouted the possible escape routes as Aeryn prepared your child for a run for your lives. They were ready to go when you came back and laid out your plan. You’d run, hoping to find your way back to the transport pod, leaving the planet before the Scarrans even knew you were gone. You hadn’t gotten far when pulse fire halted your progress and forced you to seek cover, not knowing how many Scarrans were there or what they wanted to do.

After a furious but quiet argument, you’d convinced Aeryn to let you try to breakaway and decoy the Scarrans into following you so that she could get the baby and herself to safety and escape in the pod. You convinced her that you could stay free until D’Argo could get back with Lo’La to finish the bastards off. The plan only half worked before it all went to hezmana.

Your plan. Your fuck up.

The Scarrans trapped you in a vicious firefight, and Aeryn returned to help you. You screamed at her to get out and take the baby to safety and leave you behind. Aeryn froze, unable to move. Torn between the two of you, she hesitated, and you could almost see her training desert her. That split second was enough. All it took. Cover fire blanketed the area, trying to force you from your hiding place, and ripped through their bodies.

You wake up screaming, jerking into a sitting position, shaking wildly and gasping for air. You can’t seem to force enough air into your lungs and each shuddering breath you take feels like it’s tearing you apart. You welcome the pain. It helps ground you. It makes you remember.

You want to remember. Need to.

“Stop it,” you command yourself harshly. You breathe deeply and then drive the heels of your hands into your eyes. “It’s all right. Everything’s fine,” you chant to yourself, in that odd sing-song voice you used to use when you calmed the baby. Your hands scrub roughly at your face as you try desperately to convince yourself that the mantra will work. “Everything is gonna be fine.”

You are going to get this right.

You heave yourself up out of the bed, ignoring the chill of the cool air on your sweat soaked body and go to stand at the one window in the room. You stare out over the darkened city and wonder briefly how you’re going to get through the next eight arns.

You want to know how fucked up this really is.

“Everything is going to be fine,” you whisper.

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

He walked into the bar and blinked rapidly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. It wasn’t hard to do. The grim, grey, overcast sky of this commerce planet didn’t offer much in the way of sunny skies and light for the inhabitants. There actually wasn’t much difference between the dimness outside the establishment and the dimness inside.

Just like any of the dozens of bars on dozens of commerce planets you’ve been on in the last couple of cycles. Except, maybe this time you might actually find what you’ve been looking for.

John shook his head as if to clear it, and then quickly let his eyes rake the room. They narrowed and his mouth tightened when he saw no one familiar. He knew that the Luxan had demanded that they meet here like this, not on Moya. That pissed him off no end, confused him, made him sad. And scared the living hell out of him.

So, where are you, D?

His thoughts wandered to the last time he’d seen his…friend? He wondered vaguely if that was still an accurate portrayal of their relationship or if that was one more thing that had changed due to his absence. He’d thought little about the friends he’d left behind during his self-imposed exile from Moya, spent in bars like this one, on commerce planets like this one, found all across this sector of the galaxy.

Wasted arns spent in drunken stupors thinking only about her. And him. Oh, god. Arns better spent holding her, comforting her, loving her. Weak, pathetic bastard.

John shook his head again, angrily this time. His eyes made another pass of the room. And again he did not find who he was looking for. He should have been here by now.

Where the fuck are you, D’Argo?

Winona was up and pointing into the Sebacean-looking woman’s face before he was even conscious of his hand moving. Disgusted with himself for being so involved with his own thoughts that he’d lost track of his surroundings, he cocked his head at her.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to sneak up on someone?”

“I didn’t sneak,” she said defensively. “You were not paying attention.”

“Well, you have my undivided attention now,” he drawled, letting his eyes flick past her to check on the others in the room. Apparently, once they had decided that the weapon was not pointed at them, they were more than content to return to their drinking and deal making. “What do you want?”

“I was told to give you this,” the woman said, eyeing him as if trying to anticipate his reaction and judge whether it would be directed at her or not.

She’d sensed the nervous tension in him the moment he’d stepped into her bar and didn’t like it. Or him. There was the possibility of real trouble here and the sooner he was gone the better. So she slowly reached out her hand, fisted closed, and waited for his response.

“By whom?” John asked, raising his free hand, palm out and open to receive whatever the woman was holding. Winona didn’t waver for a moment as the transfer of the small object was made. John’s eyes dropped to the object in his hand and he jerked involuntarily, his fist closing immediately on it.

Your lock of Aeryn’s hair.

He hadn’t been without it in cycles, but he must have forgotten to pack it when he made his escape from Moya.

When you ran away from your life and never even realized it. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Get your shit together, John. Focus.

“Where?” The word came out in a strangled whisper and the Sebacean woman looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“Luxan,” she finally answered, “I am supposed to take you to him.” She turned and he reached out quickly to grab her arm, twisting her back to face him.

“Wait,” he ground out harshly, eyes pleading. “Is there…anyone with the Luxan?” John held his breath as he waited for the woman to answer.

“No, he was alone the last time I saw him.”

John clenched his fist even more tightly around the lock of hair and bit down on his lower lip. He could feel it. This was wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

What the hell did you think it was supposed to be like, dumbass? She’d jump into your arms the microt you dragged your sorry ass back home, tell you how much she loved you, missed you, needed you? You kinda fucked that up when you lashed out and laid her open. When you ripped out her heart, again, and left her alone, again. Alone with her grief and loss, and the guilt you made sure she’d carry when you were gone. Fucking bastard.

But it was more than that. Something more than just…wrong. He could sense it, and the fine trembling in his limbs began again.

“Take me to him,” he demanded, voice harsh and grating as he holstered Winona, leaving his hand resting anxiously on her. His other hand, still closed tightly around her lock of hair, hung at his side.

She nodded slightly and turned. He followed her as she made her way through the tables and patrons and out the back of the bar, hoping against hope that this was not be as bad as he was beginning to think it might be.

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

It took a quarter arn to reach their destination, a grey, non-descript, dingy building that looked to John like one of the transient hotels back on Earth. His escort had stopped just outside the entrance and turned to look at him. Once again she was holding something in her hand.

“What now?” John asked, nodding in the direction of her hand. He was tired of playing this game and knew that he was wound up way too tight. The rattlers that had taken up residence in his gut from that first moment of contact with Moya were nothing compared to what he was feeling now. Whatever was going on, he needed to know about it. Now. He forced the fear down deeper in his gut, swallowed the bile threatening his throat, and schooled his face to calm.

Easy. You want to know why she isn’t here. How she is. Don’t fuck this up and you might find out.

“Take the lift to ten. Turn right down the corridor. It’s the third room down,” she said, holding out a key chip. “He’s waiting for you.”

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

John found himself standing outside the room, staring at the doorway, utterly unable to open the door and walk those final few steps to meet his…friend. Again he wondered why D’Argo had considered it necessary to arrange this here. Why they couldn’t be doing this aboard Moya. At home.

Only one way to find out, John. Showtime.

He opened the door and crossed the threshold, hearing it swoosh quietly closed behind him. His eyes took a microt to focus in the darkened room. What little illumination there was came in through the floor to ceiling windows on the far wall. There were no lights on. There was nothing on the walls and nothing on the bare floor of the room.

A round table sat in front of the windows, two chairs pulled up to it. A bottle and two glasses glinted in the dim light faintly reflected onto the table. He stepped farther into the room. And that’s when John saw him, a darker shadow in a room full of them. Standing at the window, staring out over the city. Seemingly oblivious to John’s approach, although he knew that the Luxan was well aware that he was there.

“D’Argo,” he began, finding the silence slightly unnerving. He had never learned to appreciate silence. Never liked it or being alone.

So why did you leave? You really are a damn fool.

“John,” D’Argo answered a heartbeat later, keeping his back to the human. John understood the Luxan’s gesture for what it was. A sign of disrespect to his enemies; utter dismissal to his friends.

Real subtle, D. So which is it? God, I’m not your enemy.

“What’s going on?” John tried again, hoping to find some way of bridging the awkwardness between them.

“Why don’t you tell me?” D’Argo turned around then and fixed him with a stare. It was not a welcoming gesture. Head cocked and blue eyes intense, the big Luxan seemed to stare straight through the smaller human, as if he could find his own answers there.

“Can we sit?” John asked, raising his hand to indicate the chairs by the table. D’Argo just nodded slightly and moved to a chair.

John shrugged off his duster and tossed it onto the single sleeping unit that had been pushed up against the near wall. Then he moved to the table and sat in the chair opposite D’Argo, never taking his gaze off the large Luxan. Even now there was no sign of welcome in D’Argo’s usually expressive eyes.

The rattlers in John’s stomach were screaming like the damned now and the metallic taste of bile was in his throat. This was not the way it was supposed to be going down, like a sick, twisted parody of a classic John Crichton plan. He was supposed to come home, say his mea culpas, grovel if necessary, fix the first thing that went south, and make things right…with her.

But she’s not here now, is she, dumbass? And D doesn’t look like he’s about to tell you much of anything about her right now. So fix this. Get this right and get to Aeryn.

“Hey man, we drinking that or what?” John started in his best southern drawl, hand gesturing toward the bottle, hoping to ease the escalating tension in the room.

D’Argo just grunted and reached out his own large hand to grab the bottle, open it and pour two glasses full of raslak. He slid the one closest to John toward him and then sat back in his chair, taking a long pull off his own. He let his gaze settle on the man sitting across from him and took a long hard look. John knew what his friend was seeing.

Physically the human didn’t appear much changed in the last two cycles, except for his eyes, where shame, guilt, and pain lived, all vying for expression. It was only when he looked into those eyes that the Luxan saw how damaged his friend really was, as if he was suffering from some terrible kind of post-combat stress.

John’s eyes, the taut, tense lines of his body, and the slight tremor in his limbs as he struggled with a surging adrenaline flow all spoke volumes about his last two cycles away. And how desperate he was to come home and make things right. That realization allowed the Luxan to find a small measure of compassion for his friend.

John was aware that the Luxan’s gaze never left him and that he was being examined and judged, and found wanting. D’Argo hadn’t looked at him like this since the early days when he’d first found himself aboard Moya. John didn’t like it, what he saw of himself reflected in his friend’s eyes, and wanted it to stop.

You selfish bastard. This isn’t about what you want. Self-indulgent arrogant prick. You already got what you wanted. Time. Away, alone…to put yourself together. Just what she had needed after… Exactly what you made her pay so dearly for when she did come home. So what is this going to cost you? What has this cost you already?

“Ok D, I’ll start. How long we gonna do this dance? I gotta think you know why I’m here and what I want. And I also gotta think you have a reason to be here, like this, without…her.” John rose from the table and began pacing the small room. He reached the far wall and stopped. “Did you even tell her that I’d come back?” John asked quietly, turning to face the Luxan. “Is this her decision not to be here? Not to see me?” His voice rose angrily with each question.

He was sick with worry, guilt, and an unrelenting fear. Had been for monens now since he had been unable to find any sign of her or Moya. The guilt and fear that he had caged so successfully for so long, now threatened to explode outward in pure rage. He knew that couldn’t happen. Wouldn’t get him what he wanted. And he wanted her, in whatever way, shape, form, or fashion he could get her back in. He’d fix every bad thing that had happened, if he could only see her again, make her give him that chance.

And what if you don’t get that chance? You cut and ran. You bailed on her, leaving her alone to pick up the pieces. After you promised her. Lying, frelling bastard. What if she’s gone? What if she’s moved on? What will you do then?

His gut clenched and his heart hitched at the thought of any of those possibilities even as his mind screamed that she would never do either of those things and his head threatened to explode. He needed to find a way through D’Argo and get to Aeryn. He needed to end this and move on. Now. He knew that the Luxan was watching him closely and forced himself to calm his breathing, still his racing heart, and find some semblance of composure before going on.

“Did you tell her I was back and wanted to come home?” John asked the question quietly, almost afraid to hear the answer, looking D’Argo directly in the eyes.

“No,” came the deceptively simple and quiet response. “Aeryn was not told that you had returned.”

“Why not?” John growled deep in the back of his throat, feeling the rage rising within. “Why would you not tell her something like that? To punish me? Believe me, D’Argo, there is nothing you or Chiana or…Aeryn…can say to me that I haven’t said to myself over the last couple of cycles that I’ve lost without her.” His voice had gone soft and low, intense with grief at the mention of her name.

“I made a mistake,” he ground out harshly, bringing his hands up to roughly scrub at his face for a moment before continuing more quietly. “A huge mistake. Maybe an unforgivable mistake. I hope not, but I won’t be sure until I see Aeryn and ask her forgiveness, ask her to take me back and give me a chance to make this up to her.”

“And what the frell do you think you can do to make this up to her?” D’Argo exploded, standing up and taking a step towards the human. “In any way? You left her, John. At her most vulnerable, facing the most devastating thing she could ever face. She needed you, John.”

D’Argo’s voice had gone low and deep, growling the words so quickly that the microbes were having trouble keeping up. John had no trouble however, reading the look of pure disgust on the Luxan’s face as he looked at him. That look made John cringe.

Would Aeryn look at you like that?

“You made vows to her, John, promised her that you would care for her and protect her when she needed it. I was there when you made them,” D’Argo hissed. “I remember them,” he spat. “And then you left her in the most selfish way possible.”

“So you made the decision not to tell her I was back? Not to tell her that I wanted to see her?” John took three quick steps to stand in front of the big Luxan and shoved hard against his chest. D’Argo backed up a step. “You made the decision to keep us apart?” John took anther quick step forward and shoved the Luxan hard again in the chest.

“Who fucking died and made you god? You fucking hypocrite,” he raged, shoving hard again. This time though, D’Argo refused to be moved. John’s hand dropped of its own accord to Winona before he realized what he was doing. D’Argo simply looked at him, waiting as he took a single step back. When John continued, his voice was so low that the Luxan had to strain to hear it.

“When Aeryn came back to Moya with Scorpius, it was you telling me to forget her, to let her go. You would barely even speak to her,” he growled, jabbing a finger at D’Argo’s chest.

Neither would you, you selfish bastard.

“Told everyone I would never forgive her. What do you think that did to her?”

You know exactly what that did to her.

John felt a tidal wave of pain crash into him, a raging river of emotion fueled by the rage, guilt and shame radiating from him. D’Argo found himself taking a physical step back from the raw anguish on the human’s face. John stepped toward D’Argo again and when it came, his voice was low and intense.

“Now you’re gonna run the flip side of that game? You self-righteous bastard…” he finished, his voice cracking.

“I know how poorly…how badly I treated Aeryn upon her return,” D’Argo said softly. “I am to this day still ashamed of my actions during that time. I allowed my feelings about Chiana and Jothee’s betrayal to color my perceptions of you and Aeryn.” He stopped and his gaze wandered off, looking at something not in the room. John waited silently for him to continue.

“I should have been a friend to you both and helped you find your way back to each other instead of telling you to leave her alone. I’ve tried long since to make my apologies to Aeryn, but she simply shook me off and told me not to bring it up.”

“So now you think this is going to help you absolve yourself of your own guilt. Not letting me see her?” John growled. He could feel himself spinning out of control, on the razor edge of something dark and dangerous, guilt and pain making him desperate and stubborn.

This won’t get you what you want. Focus.

“Because you think it’s the right thing to do? Only Aeryn can make that decision, and to do that she has to see me. Aeryn and I can work this out. You have to stay out of it.” The unspoken threat carried clearly in John’s voice.

“Aeryn can’t make the decision you need her to, John.”

“Then let me see her and let her convince me of that.”

“And then what will you do?”

“When?”

“When you realize she can’t give you what you are looking for. Run away again?”

“I know you think I’ve been pretty useless for a while now, but give me some credit. I love her, more than even before. I won’t stay separated from her.”

Not now. Not ever. No matter how many times you have to do this. You will make this right.

“You’ve said that before. And still you left.”

“I just needed some time, D’Argo, I always meant to come back. It was just supposed to be a little while, while I got myself together enough to…”

“To what, John? Be a mate, a husband, to Aeryn? To honor your vows?”

“To find a way to be there for her. I knew it was killing her and I couldn’t do anything to help her. Do you think I wanted to see her in that kind of pain?’

“You helped create…that kind of pain…and then you left.”

“I already told you it wasn’t supposed to be like this…not this long. I tried to come back. You guys were gone.”

“The Peacekeepers and Scarrans opened a front right where we were. We had no idea where you were, if you were alive, if you had found another disruptor to frell or another island paradise to amuse yourself in while you got things…sorted out.”

“That’s not fair, D’Argo,” John exploded. “It’s never been about another woman ever since…”

…you first laid eyes on her. Wanted to hold her in your arms and kiss her until you both couldn’t breathe, feel her cool skin against yours, bury your face in her hair and take in that wonderful scent that was Aeryn. Wanted to make her yours. God help you. You can still feel her, smell her, taste her with every breath you take.

“Doesn’t matter, John. None of it matters. Not the reasons, not the explanations. It’s been two cycles. What makes you think you can come back?

“It’s…complicated, D.”

“Yes, I know. I understand that. It is always complicated where we are involved. That’s as much a part of our lives as your precious hope and trust are. Aeryn hoped for more and trusted you. What did that get her? In the end it was all a lie. There is nothing left.”

You pissed it all away.

“Nothing but trust, D’Argo,” John said quietly with a heavy sigh. “Aeryn’s gonna have to trust me. You’re gonna have to trust me enough to let me see her.”

“This will not end the way you want it to, John. Leave it alone. Leave now.”

“I will not leave it alone. I will not leave. Not until Aeryn tells me to.”

“You are making a huge mistake here, John, a really spectacular one. But if you will not listen to me, then there is little I can do prevent it. Just remember that I told you to leave and that you decided not to.”

“Fine,” he snapped, “I’ll remember. Just take me to Aeryn.” John’s voice went low and his eyes softened with an almost palpable grief as the command morphed into a plea. “Take me to her now. Please.”

The big Luxan rose, tossing the remains of his drink back before striding toward the doorway. John followed quickly, grabbing his duster and scrambling after him, afraid of getting left behind. Not another word was spoken between the two of them as they made their way out of the hotel and across the city to the landing port and boarded their respective ships for the trip home to Moya.

Alone in the module for the trip back to Moya, he let his thoughts drift again to Aeryn, what had happened, and the two cycles he’d spent parted from her by his own stupidity.

You’d been lying in bed and the kissing was feral and wild. You could feel the electricity arcing between you wherever your bodies touched. You loved this woman beyond any and everything, had never responded to another body the way you did to hers. Felt the undeniable pull of lust toward her that would not be denied. You wanted her so badly.

She was so beautiful even then, five monens pregnant with your child, the bulge at her belly showing the new life you had created within her. You thought you loved her more then than you ever had before. You thought she was more beautiful than you had ever seen her, glowing with her pregnancy. You wanted nothing more than to remain there in her arms until you died. And then you would die a happy man.

Your lovemaking had turned fiercely physical and you were afraid you were hurting her, so you'd tried to back off. She’d looked up at up with all the love she felt for you shining in her eyes and pulled you roughly to her. Her message was crystal clear and you began your part again, wanting desperately to please her.

Frantic hands moved everywhere, touching every part of skin you could reach, caressing and exciting each other. Lips and tongues joined the celebration of your love until the crescendo was reached and both of you were sweat slicked, out-of-breath, and sated. You cocooned yourselves within the shelter of each other’s arms and bodies, whispered your love to each other, and fell into a deep, satisfied sleep within each other’s arms.

John came out of his reverie long enough to check the sensors and his course, and then allowed himself to fall back into his walk down memory lane.

The birth of your child had been the second happiest moment of your life, second only to Aeryn’s accepting your proposal of marriage and your wedding. She’d been so beautiful then, and you’d found her even more beautiful lying there in bed after just having given birth to your child. You’d thought your heart might burst from so much happiness. Everything was right with the universe. It was perfect.

And for some reason he still did not understand, he had forgotten that the universe wasn’t likely to let him have that perfection for very long.

Your family, you, Aeryn, and your one cycle old child on a much needed visit planetside for a day of sun and fun. Fresh air and a family picnic. Such a simple plan. What could go wrong? Everything once the Scarran scouts showed up.

You’d scouted the possible escape routes as Aeryn prepared your child for a run for your lives. They were ready to go when you came back and laid out your plan. You’d run, hoping to find your way back to the transport pod, leaving the planet before the Scarrans even knew you were gone. You hadn’t gotten far when pulse fire halted your progress and forced you to seek cover, not knowing how many Scarrans were there or what they wanted to do.

After a furious but quiet argument, you’d convinced Aeryn to let you try to breakaway and decoy the Scarrans into following you so that she could get the baby and herself to safety and escape in the pod. You didn’t even realize what you were asking of her. What making that choice, that promise, would do to her.

You didn’t even ask her what she was thinking. You just convinced her that you could stay free until D’Argo could get back with Lo’La to finish the bastards off. The plan only half worked before it all went to hezmana. The Scarrans trapped you in a vicious firefight, and Aeryn returned to help you.

You'd screamed at her to get out and take the baby to safety and leave you behind. Aeryn froze, unable to move. Torn between the two of you, she hesitated, and you could almost see her training desert her. The sound of cover fire blanketing the area, trying to force you from your hiding place shook her from her frozen state.

She was still unseen by the Scarrans, who were unsure where she was. So she’d hidden the baby behind some sheltering boulders and whispered to the child to remain still and hidden until Mommy or Daddy came back. Then she looped around the perimeter so that the Scarrans had no idea where the baby might be hidden and went to help you.

You'd screamed at her to go back and leave you, but she could see you would not last much longer. So she continued until she was able to catch one Scarran off guard and removed him from the field of fire. Pulse blasts flew thick and furious in the resulting firefight, but when it was over, the second Scarran was dead, and you and Aeryn weren’t.

“I told you to leave me and take care of the baby. I can take care of myself. Why can’t you understand that?”

The words had been screamed at her after the firefight ended and then you'd spun on your heel and run over to where your child was hidden. Aeryn followed at a run also. Rounding the boulders, you'd stopped abruptly. So abruptly Aeryn almost ran into you. You'd stopped and stood there, feeling like a pulse blast had gone directly through your heart. Aeryn’s stricken face told you that she was feeling the same sick sensation.

Your child, your baby, was lying in a pool of blood, his tiny body ripped open by a stray pulse blast. You dropped to your knees and tried to find a pulse, a breath, anything that would indicate your child was still alive. You tried CPR to resuscitate him, but nothing worked. Your baby was dead. You turned to look at Aeryn with tears of grief and rage in your eyes.

“I told you to leave me. You were supposed to protect our child. I can take care of myself. Our baby couldn’t. Why the fuck didn’t you listen to me? Why the fuck didn’t you trust me? Why the fuck did you think you were the only one who could decide if our child lived or died?”

Your voice was so deadly calm, your rage so complete. Your words were surgically precise, so coldly understated, shifting that awful burden solely to her. And god help you, you'd watched as she shrank and flinched from each one as if they were physical blows.

You son-of-a-bitch. Your plan. Your fuck up. Never should have gotten caught. Never should have made her make that decision. Never should have blamed her for its consequences.

“You think I wanted this, John? You think I am responsible for this?” Aeryn whispered, the words barely audible and raw, the horrific ache in her voice mirrored in her eyes.

You hadn’t even answered her, your silence speaking volumes as you picked up your precious burden and headed toward the transport pod, without another glance at her. You hadn’t even waited to see if she was following you.

You didn’t speak again in the pod, or when you got back to Moya. You shut yourself off from everyone, taking no part in planning the funeral service for your child. And when the time came for the small ceremony that consigned the child to the stars, you’d stood away from all the others, staring at something only you could see, refusing to look at either mother or child. And you didn’t say a word to anyone, Aeryn especially, before you packed a few things and left Moya in the middle of a sleep cycle.

You'd thought you needed time.

John clamped his lips shut and stared straight ahead.

Well, you got what you wanted. What you’d thought you needed. You got time.

Suddenly out of the forward portal, Moya filled the viewscreen. John almost cried with relief at the thought of being home. Then he sobered with a shock. He was scared to death now, wondering what the rest of this homecoming would be like. How Aeryn would respond and what it would take to reach her if she didn’t.

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

“Pilot, are you there?” DArgo called over the comms, as John waited for the familiar voice to welcome them back to Moya.

“Yes, Captain, we are here. Moya and I welcome you back. Would you like us to deploy the docking web?”

“Yes, Pilot, please do.” Ten microts passed before Pilot’s voice came again.

“Moya and I wish to know if your journey was…successful, Captain.”

“Yes, Pilot, my journey was…successful.”

“Commander Crichton?” Pilot’s voice came again.

“Yeah, Pilot, I’m here. How…”

“Deploying the docking web, now,” Pilot’s voice cut him off abruptly.

No one spoke again as Moya gently brought them home.

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

John’s heart was pounding wildly in his chest and he could feel his pulse racing, throbbing in his head. After all this time. After all his waiting. He could feel his hope surging through his veins like a drug. Contact high. He was finally home.

You’re going to see her again.

He began running shutdown procedures the microt he felt the module touch down and was finished even before Lo’La settled on the deck. Then he was forced to wait for the airlock to cycle and tell him it was all right to step back into his life.

John popped the hatch and jumped to the deck.

“Yo, Pilot,” he called, now that they were safely aboard. “Where is…everyone?”

Don’t you mean, “Where’s Aeryn?” You can’t even ask the question, you’re so afraid of the answer. Coward. What are you going to do if she doesn’t come?

“Welcome home, Commander Crichton.” Pilot’s voice came over the comms sounding even more formal than John remembered, sobering him somewhat as he heard D’Argo’s heavy footsteps behind him. He didn’t have time to dwell on what Pilot’s tone meant before the bay door opened and the slim, grey Nebari came in. Her eyes flicked from John to D’Argo and back again.

“Hey, Pip,” he said quietly as she approached slowly.

“Hello, John,” Chiana replied without smiling. “Welcome back.”

Welcome back. Not welcome home.

She stepped up to DArgo and wrapped her arms around his waist as his engulfed her, folding her into his embrace. She buried her face in his chest, mumbling something for his ears only as he dropped a kiss onto her head. John looked away toward the still open bay door, hoping for the one he really wanted to see come through.

She won’t even come to meet you. Not good. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where is she?

The freight train was running through his head again as possibilities began circling and swirling inside, blurring his vision and making his gut clench.

Dissonance.

He wondered again briefly how bad this might really turn out to be. And then he decided that it didn’t matter.

You will get it right.

Movement caught the corner of his eye and he turned slightly to see Chiana standing next to D’Argo, the Luxan’s arm resting lightly on her waist. She leaned into him as he began to speak.

“Chiana will take you to your quarters, John. I need to check in with Pilot before we break orbit.” Pulling Chiana close for a quick kiss on the forehead, he stepped away from her and gave John a last look. He seemed to weigh his words carefully before speaking. “Is there anything else I can do for…that you need right now?”

“No man, I’m good.”

D’Argo nodded briefly and walked out of the bay. The two of them watched him leave and then turned to stare mutely at each other for a very long moment.

“Where is she, Pip?”

She turned and without another look at the human silently started out of the bay. Sighing heavily, John picked up his duffel bag and wordlessly started after her.

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

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, catching up to her in the corridor. She didn’t answer, didn’t even shift her head or eyes to look at him. She just kept walking. John reached out a hand to grab her arm and forced her to stop, turn around, look at him.

“What the frell is wrong with you?” She spat the words furiously at him, angrily shaking his hand off her arm.

He watched silently as the Nebari engaged in an internal battle. Apparently losing whatever war she was waging with herself, Chiana’s shoulders slumped with some weight he could only guess at.

John decided that his patience was at an end and that it was time to toss silence out the nearest airlock. He was tired of this game, tired of trying to decipher hidden meaning in conversation, and tired of waiting for answers to his single question.

“Nothing is wrong with me, Chiana,” he said, trying to keep his voice level and calm. “I just want…to see Aeryn. Talk to her. She’s still my wife, Pip. And I still love her. You gotta know that.”

“What I know, Crichton, is that it’s been two cycles since you left and now you’re back,” she hissed. “And things aren’t the same. Where the frell were you? Did you even think about what the frell was going on here…about us…while you were gone?” John involuntarily stepped back from the intensity in her eyes and voice.

“Chiana,” he began, arms spreading out from his sides, hands upturned in a placating gesture.

“You frelling bastard,” she cut him off viciously. “You left. We stayed. And did the best we could.” She moved quickly to shove him in the chest. “Why did you come back?”

“Why the hell do you think I came back, Chiana,” he exploded. “I made a fucking mistake leaving. I know that. You want me to say it? Fine, I’ll say it. I am a fucking coward and I left here when Aeryn needed me the most. I left you all here to deal with a whole lotta shit while I ran away from my life. Are you happy now?”

“No, Crichton. I am not happy…”

“Listen, Chiana. Aeryn left and came back. D’Argo left and came back. You left and came back. Hell, Rygel left and came back. Everyone left and came back and got a chance to make things right. I left. Don’t I deserve that same chance?”

“You put Aeryn through hezmana when she came back, or have you forgotten that?”

“No, I have not forgotten that, thank-you so much for asking,” he grated harshly. “And I haven’t forgotten that Aeryn is the strongest person I know.” His voice softened and went deep as memories flooded him. “Or that I love her. I never fucking forgot that,” he whispered. “Or that I always wanted to come home.”

“You can’t go home again. Isn’t that what you said? Didn’t you learn that little lesson before? Or did you forget that?

“Are you telling me that Aeryn isn’t here on Moya? Because that’s the only way this isn’t gonna be home for me anymore.”

Please god, don’t be telling me that.

“No, Aeryn is still…here,” she replied, anger deflated, something strange and inexplicably sad in her eyes.

“That’s good then,” John said softly, letting out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “Take me to her.”

Chiana just looked at him with that same inexplicable expression, opened and closed her mouth as if she couldn’t give voice to her thoughts, and wordlessly walked away. He tried to ignore his growing sense of desperation, the rattlers in his gut, as he followed the Nebari down the corridor.

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

John’s sense of desperation intensified with each step he took down the corridor. He’d known it would be difficult to walk this path when he came back, but had expected it to end at the quarters he had shared with Aeryn. He’d actually come to a stop when he reached the cell. Chiana had just looked at him and indicated with a nod of her head that he should continue walking.

Suddenly, the guilt and grief that he had been keeping so carefully controlled inside broke loose and coalesced into a torrent of raging, all consuming fear. A cold emptiness settled deep in the pit of his stomach, making him want to vomit. In all their cycles together, he had never felt her absence or his disconnection more acutely, more painfully than now, when he was so close to seeing her again. Not even during the dark times when she had been gone.

And this separation, this pain had been self-inflicted. Selfish bastard. What had she gone through? You inflicted some heavy-duty pain before you boogied. Hurt her in ways you’ve spent the last two cycles only imagining. Wounded her in ways you’re now gonna get to see up close.

There could be only one destination now. That certainty hit John with the force of a kick to the gut, causing him to wince and physically stagger.

How many times had you made this short walk from your quarters down this corridor? To check on the baby as he slept? To come comfort him after a bad dream? To carry him to his mother when he was hungry or ill? To play with him?

With every step the freight train rumbled more loudly in his head, the warning bell rang more loudly in his ears, and his stomach rolled with the sensations. Only a step from his destination, John stopped and reached out a hand to steady himself. Then he gave up and leaned forward, resting his forehead against Moya’s warm wall.

Aeryn’s in there.

Shame, pain, grief, guilt, and fear crashed like a tidal wave over him. Along with mind blowing rage. At the fates which had taken their child from them. At himself for the terrible burden he had inflicted on her in his blind anguish, when she was so raw and so very vulnerable. When he had denied her the comfort of his physical presence, denied her pain, her guilt, and her fear of losing even more than she had already lost.

You never even noticed her grief, acknowledged her anguish. Too wrapped up in your own. Selfish, selfish bastard.

He pushed back and shook himself violently out of his reverie when he felt Chiana’s hand grab his arm. She took a step forward and turned to face him. Her eyes searched his face.

“You shouldn’t have come back. I always knew you would, but you shouldn’t have.”

“I shouldn’t have left.”

She nodded slightly and reached out to pass her hand over the entry sensor. The cell door opened with a slight hissing of air. John reached over and gently pushed the privacy curtain back so that he could enter…

…and stop breathing. She was even more beautiful than he remembered, lying there with her dark hair framing her face on the pillow, her pale skin almost translucent in the dim light of the cell, her lips slightly parted with her quiet, even breathing. She was beautiful and looked so much at peace it made his heart ache and his mind scream.

The Living Death.

“How?” John rumbled, barely able to choke out the word through his rapidly constricting and burning throat.

“She got into her Prowler about…a weeken after you left, locked down the hatch and cranked up the environmentals,” Chiana’s voice floated over to him softly. “We hadn’t seen much of her in that time, but she never left here, and we’d looked out for her, made sure that there were…no obvious weapons around. I don’t think she would have used one even if she had it…” she trailed off into silence.

“What?” John could feel the fine trembling in his limbs as his mind screamed that this wasn’t real even as the pain in his heart told him it was. He took two steps into the room and stopped.

“I always imagined she would have considered a pulse blast to the head too…merciful…for her sins.”

You did this to her.

“D’Argo…wanted to end it for her. Thought that was what she would have wanted. I wouldn’t let him,” she finished defiantly.

“Why not?” John took the final two steps to stand at her side and gazed down into the face that had been in his dreams since the first time he had laid eyes on it. He felt Chiana step up behind him.

“Because it wasn’t time and it’s not his place,” she murmured close to his ear. “Because I wasn’t ready to lose her yet. I told you, I always knew you’d come back. It’s up to you to tell me that it’s time to let her go.”

“And you think I can do that?” John asked, his voice a broken whisper.

John turned to face her and she grabbed his hand, pressing something cold and metallic into it. He didn’t even look at it as his hand closed unthinkingly over it. He looked instead at the Nebari backing away from the raw anguish radiating from him for a moment, and then turned back to look at his wife. He dropped to his knees by her side.

“I think you have to,” she said gently, quietly backing out of the room. “You promised her.”

John didn’t mark Chiana’s leaving, or notice the hissing sound of air as the cell door closed after her. He simply stared at his wife, his eyes tracing the path of his fingers as they stroked gently over her brow, her cheek, her lips that had graced him with her special smile, and then her neck and collar bone before beginning their journey again.

Your universe. Your heart. Your life.

“Ah god, baby, I’m so sorry. I love you so much. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he murmured as his hands came up to cup her face. His lips brushed her forehead as he planted a kiss. He could feel the heat that wasn’t supposed to be there radiating off her too warm skin as he rose from his knees and slid into the bed with her, gathering her gently in his arms.

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

So much time wasted. You’d both taken so long and worked so hard and then you pissed it all away. You’d made a promise to her. To love her and to stay with her. You’d made that promise with your words and your body and then you took it all away.

You pull her even more tightly to yourself and bury your face in her hair. Amazed even now, after all these cycles together and apart, at how well your bodies fit together, as if they were made for each other and each other alone.

Can you take this all away?

You want so desperately to make this right. Have come back to make this up to her.

You care about one thing.

You close your eyes as equations begin to unwind again before you. And other memories begin to assail you as well.

Aeryn dead. At the hands of the Scarrans. At your hands. So many times. So many ways. Aeryn and the baby lying in a pool of blood. Dead, dead, dead.

And all you can hear is the screaming of your heart. All you can feel is the raw, gaping wound in your soul.

Hostages to fate. Hostages to fortune. Hostages to time.

You knew what you can do, will do. You can make this right. But for now you want nothing more than to lie here and feel Aeryn in your arms.

Hell yeah, you can make this right. Try another door.

You love her, you need her, you want her, and you aren’t going to let anything keep you apart. You will make this right because you can.

Einstein’s gonna be pissed. Fuck Einstein. That son-of-a-bitch can just deal. Again. And again.

“I’m here baby. I’ll always be here. Waiting for you.”

You pull her tightly to you once again, kissing her lips as tears began to gather in your closed eyes. You loosen your embrace, push back enough to look into her face, and gently lay her back on the bed. Your hand moves of its own accord. The backs of your fingers stroke down her arm before turning to softly skim their way up the center of her torso, coming to rest over her heart.

The rhythm of your heart.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you whisper over and over again. And you curse yourself again because she can’t hear your words.

But you will baby. I promise.

You hold your breath and she barely gasps as you slide the stiletto blade into her chest. Your tears finally flow freely as you hold her, feeling the life and breath ebbing out of her body, burning that feeling into your sense memory.

Everything will be all right.

As long as you remember.

Yeah, you can make this right. You have time.