No Reaction.
Author: Anthony Docimo.
Spoilers: A Human Reaction, DNA Mad Scientist.
Divergence Point: A Human Reaction.
O’Bannon&co own it all. I get nothing from this but warm fuzzies. {and peace and quiet, i think}.
Archive: anyone WHO ASKS ME!
“Go, you lucky propakto,” Rygel was saying. “Go.”
Crichton still hesitated, his ship just above the lip of the wormhole. Was it worth it? Shipmates, friends, allies -- all on the hope that he could really go home again.
“John?”
“Yeah, D’Argo?” Crichton asked, his eyes flickering over the instrument panels.
“I understand the fear,” the luxan told him. Yeah, sure you do, pal. “But if you don’t do this, you will regret it for the rest of your life.”
Well, John had to admit, the big guy had a point there. Yeah, time to take the plunge, to go home.
And he was about to do just that, to jump down the rabbit hole, seeing where it would lead - when he remembered something.
Pilot’s arm.
What was the price for this gift? John looked down the tunnel, so cold yet inviting. He swallowed, a dry lump in his throat. What wrongfull thing would come of this?
“John?”
Crichton blinked. That was Aeryn!
“John, you do what you have to do,” she instructed him.
Stay with Aeryn, stay with Aeryn; so yelled one part of his mind, a part that’d been more and more verbal since that little Incident between the two of them.
Go home, John; was said by another part. Dad, DK, Alex, all your friends and relatives. Isn’t that better than being hunted and tortured?
“John?” Aeryn asked, at the same time as Pilot asked “Crichton?” John closed his eyes and gripped the yoke that controlled the Farscape’s motions.
One last look. One final look, before he turned his back on it.
+++
John Crichton sat in the cafeteria, eating alone.
More than likely, he’d always be alone.
And no matter where he was, the food always tasted like swill. And oatmeal, he noted to himself, making a mental note to thank the chef.
John looked down the table. Normally at this time of day, there would be at least one person scarfing down meals like no tomorow. But not now. Not with him around, anyways.
“John?”
So many people had called him that in his life. Mom, Dad, DK, Alex, Suzie, Gilina, Aeryn......
“Yes, Aeryn?” his voice military sharp.
Sun made a face at his behavior. “We were wondering -” she caught herself in the semi-truth. “I was wondering, why didn’t you go through the wormhole?” You had a chance to go home, John. Why didn’t you take it.
Crichton looked down at his food cubes. He’d become a master at rationalizing things, this particularly. “Well, there was the chance that everyone I know there is dead or not born yet - thanks to wormhole physics,” he explained to Aeryn’s now-puzzled look.
And John continued, not letting her say something to help. “There was the chance that I’d be dissected like something from a cheap B-movie, locked in quarentine for fifty years, or something like that.” Aeryn looked a mix of shocked and horrified.
“That’s a lot of chances,” Aeryn commented after a bit of silence. “But what was the weighing factor?”
John narrowed his eyes at her. Trust a Peacekeeper to make strategic light of a decision. But she was right. And she was why. “The main thing, the thing I was most sure of, was that all my friends are here.
“You’re here,” he said simply. Aeryn couldn’t find any words, so she took a seat next to him.
John was about to put his arm around her shoulder when -
“Crichton, look at this,” Pilot requested, appearing in the room’s corner viewer. John and Aeryn looked up at the screen. Pilot’s image vanished, replaced by one of the scene outside.
The wormhole was vanishing. In it’s stead, there was a massive ship of some sort, which made haste to escape once the wormhole’s image was gone.
Within a minute, the alien ship was gone. Out of sight. Vanished.
Aeryn gave John an appraising look. “What?” John asked, trying to figure out what she was thinking.”
“Maybe humans have some good senses after all,” she admitted. +++++