End of the Game 2/2 (rated G)
Here's the rest of it....
part one can be found Here
~Nerys
It is that very thing that brings me back to this arid, flaming, waste hole of a planet. I hate this world, John. And I come here every cycle. When the mist begins to thin, and the hole open once more, I come here, hoping and dreading to see Moya. I come here so that I may warn you away and so that I can see you one more time. It's foolish. It's been so long. Are you even there? Are you even alive? Something tells me that you are, that the mist, which has trapped me here and watched me grow old, has kept its own time. I have no basis for that belief. I just know that it is so strong that I come every year in the hopes of keeping you safe from what has befallen me. I feel like this will be the time, finally, and that you and I are finally coming to the end of the game that we have played so foolishly in our innocence. Though it has been so long since I have been a part of that game, I still feel like it's drawing to its close. No more will we run or be chased. No more will we hold on to each other as we jump from a precipice that seems higher and more dangerous than the one before it. If I can see you one more time, I think I can let you go, that I can set you free. I think I can withdraw from the game and leave you to find your home. Perhaps this was the way that it was meant to be. Perhaps this is fate's way of being kind to me, terrible as it has seemed. What would it have been like to watch you leave? What would it have been like to be left behind as you went home? What would have become of that woman who loved you so much but could never tell you? I don't think she would have survived, John. I remember myself well enough to know that she would have found a way to self-destruct. After the life I have lived, I would now have the courage to simply follow you to your Earth. But then? No. As much as I needed you, as much as I loved you, I wouldn't have gone. It wasn't so much the fear of your planet and the savages that live there. It was the fear that among your own kind, I would seem alien to you. I never wanted that. I never wanted you to look at me and see the differences. Foolish fear, I know that now. You have never looked at me, or anyone, in that light. Your gift has always been seeing how alike everyone is, despite their culture and their past. Do you know how wonderful and unusual that is, John? Do you know that most people only see what separates them from others? You have the ability to find the common ground. It's part of what makes you so superior to the rest of us. It's part of what makes me love you so much.
Now, here I am. I'm an old woman with the majority of her life behind her and here I am taking a transport that I have no business flying. I do so because this is the time. Time to let you go. Time to end our game. Time to set you on your way. I can do it, John. I really believe that I can. Even though I'd like to take your hand and run over the next hill with you, the time has come to see the end of it all. My love for you was the most remarkable thing in my life. It was a wild, furious dream that deserved to be dreamt by someone more worthy than I. Yet, it was me, it was my life. And even when it was dark and terrible, it was wonderful and beautiful. Simply because you were there. Simply because you made it so. You with your gentle smile, your ability to give. You could have made the lowest levels of hell seem tolerable, worth living. It's what has gotten me this far. It's what has given me courage to become an old woman. It's what gives me the courage to send you away and let you go. I hope you find your home, John. I hope that you can return to that place that you carry around with you in your heart. I finally understand that feeling. It may have taken me one hundred and sixty cycles, but I finally understand what it is that drives you to find a way home. I know because you are my home and I would have given anything to have returned to it when I was still young. Now, it is too late. I cannot go home. But I can keep your hope alive and that's what I mean to do. I can take one last glimpse, not at oceans or valleys, but at your face, your eyes. One look, one last look and it will be enough. Find your home, John. Find it and never let go. Don't grow old out here and realize that all you have are memories, sweet, haunting memories. You can do it, Crichton. If there's anyone in this universe that can, it's you. Go. Go home. And when you do, when you see your oceans, your valleys, your trees, think of me once in a while. Think of how much I'd have like to have seen that with you and know that, in my own way, I will always be with you. I love you, John. I don't think I can say it enough. I love you. I love you. And here we are at the end. It's time to say goodbye. It's difficult. It's unfair that so much time has passed and now I may see you again just to end it, but it must be that way. You have always been the best part of me. Thank you for that. Thank you for giving me hope, for letting me love instead of hate and fear. Goodbye, John. Goodbye.
End