When Skies Are Gray
AUTHOR: An'hayla
RATING: PG J/A
SUMMARY: Moya's crew struggles too deal with the aftermath of the
events in Die Me Dichotomy.
Spoilers: DMD Post Ep
DISCLAIMER: Farscape, the Farscape characters, and the Farscape
universe are the creations of Rockne S. O'Bannon and are owned
entirely by the Jim Henson Company and Farscape Productions. The use
of these characters here is for entertainment only, with no intent to
infringe upon the rights of the owners.
DEDICATION: This is for the Farscape_shippers, without whom I would
be locked up, all alone, in my padded room. Thanks for helping me
through the drought. Very special thanks to Mark Sherstone, aka
Officer Don, for patiently listening to my rambles and holding my
hand whenever I needed it.
Archiving: If it pleases you, be my guest. Just let me know where:
anhayla@post.com
This is my first fic, feedback is always appreciated.
"The other night, dear
As I lay sleeping,
I dreamt I held you in my arms.
When I awoke, dear
I was mistaken,
And I hung my head down and cried."
You Are My Sunshine" by Jimmy Davis and Charles Mitchell
***
The Ice Planet:
The canopy of the Prowler shattered upon impact with the Module's
landing gear. She flinched away from the intruding tire, working
furiously to save herself and her beloved spacecraft. As bone
freezing wind rushed through the canopy's remains, she felt the heart-
stuttering plunge of the ship's descent. She wasn't going to make it.
Cursing under her breath and struggling with the ejector controls,
the former Peacekeeper finally managed to bypass the switches and
released the controls.
((WHOOSH))
Airborne. For a moment she felt the ecstatic rush of wind and air and
the weightless wonder of flight. The valley stretched out beneath her
in silent, panoramic splendor. She blinked against the glare of
brilliant sunshine, gazing at the intense azure of the glacial sky.
It reminded her of another, warmer, deeply-loved blue. As her gaze
moved across the mountains to the vast snowfields below, the moment
was gone. Gravity took its greedy hold on her ejected seat and
hungrily drew it downward. Again, she experienced the belly-churning
plunge of an atmospheric free fall.
The seat's boosters fired in a vain attempt to slow the uncontrolled
plummet toward the frozen lake. She franticly tried to release the
harness that secured her to the chair, but the catch was jammed,
leaving her trapped. As she listened to her friends' voices pleading
with her to escape, she finally realized her impending fate and
something fledgling in her soul cried out, 'Not fair! Not yet! I just
found... I just...' But something older, darker, harder, quieted it
and a sense of resignation descended upon her. 'It's okay, I've had a
good run.' Except for one regret ... she raised her face toward the
circling Module, hoping for a glimpse of ... what? She must tell him,
let him know that it was okay. She hoped he could understand, that
someday he could forgive her and forgive himself.
"I hope you meant what you said in the neural cluster ... I did." She
gasped breathlessly, hoping it would be enough. It had to be.
Shocking cold forced the air from her lungs when the seat hit the ice
and plunged into the freezing water. A gray, glassy wave covered her
head as she gazed up toward the brilliant sky. Suddenly a fierce,
primal need to live swelled within her and she kicked with all her
strength up toward the surface. Icy cold, rapturously sweet air
filled her tortured lungs, then she made one final, desperate plea to
the only one she had ever loved. "Crichton, Crich..." The deep,
brooding waters greedily reclaimed their prize as she slid into the
murky darkness beneath the frozen lake.
"Aeryn!! No!!"
John Crichton, astronaut, awoke shivering, a scream clogged the back
of his throat as he thrashed at the coarse woven blankets knotted
around him. He took a few gasping gulps of air and then kicked his
way out of the tangle of fabric, struggling to sit up. His head
immediately began to pound as his sight momentarily blurred and
darkened. Dizzy, he pressed his palms to his eyes and waited for the
room to stop spinning. He took a shallow, hitching breath and opened
his eyes to the gray misery that had become his existence.
"You're awake." A low growl drifted from the across the room.
Crichton turned to see a tall shadow move from the cell's entrance as
D'Argo stepped through. "You look like dren," the Luxan commented
dryly.
The Human chuckled mirthlessly, "Oh, well - that's an improvement
then." He rose to his feet with only a little difficulty, listing
badly to the right for a moment, before regaining his balance.
'Definitely an improvement,' the Luxan warrior mused silently,
'yesterday he couldn't even accomplish that.' He recalled running to
the surgery chamber after the Peacekeeper forces had departed, only
to find his friend lying deathly still on the operating bed, gray
matter exposed, the life slowly draining from his body. The
facility's surgeon lay on the floor writhing in agony as uncounted
illnesses riddled his body. D'Argo shouted for help, watching with
dread as the surgeon's assistant rushed in, restarting the cleansing
phosphorescence of the biological neutralizer and aiding the helpless
Human on the table. He had feared they would lose another ally that
day.
Fortunately, Crichton had regained strength daily, quickly recovering
under the facility's expert care. But the great Luxan feared his
comrade would never truly overcome the loss they had sustained that
fateful day. "John, you are lucky to be alive," D'Argo said as his
thoughts shifted to the woman lying in a cryostasis unit nearby.
"If you can call this living," the Human responded numbly. His
complexion was ashen, his normally bright, clear blue eyes opaque
with grief and dull with self-loathing. "You should've let me die,
big guy. Maybe..." His voice drifted off and he gazed at his hands
despondently.
Concerned, D'Argo moved closer to the smaller man and placed a
comforting hand on his shoulder. "I came to tell you that Diagnosan
Tocot has completed his recovery. He is grateful for our help against
the Peacekeepers and has agreed to ... take a look at Aeryn."
At the mention of the ex-Peacekeeper's name, Crichton flinched. He
closed his eyes and swallowed painfully. "Good. That's, that's
wonderful ... tell him that anything we have, anything *I* have, is
his for the asking." He crossed his arms over his chest against the
burning pain that invariably accompanied any thought of Aeryn Sun.
His love. The one he had murdered.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The Transport Pod, earlier:
John sat huddled next to the cold, still, dripping wet body of former
Peacekeeper Aeryn Sun. D'Argo had finally handcuffed Crichton after
the human had begged him to. John didn't want any more of his
friends' blood on his hands. 'Aeryn!' His heart cried out in anguish,
'God, I'm so sorry.' He fervently wished that Scorpius had succeeded
in taking him at the Shadow Depository, so that he would never have
had the opportunity to harm her. He reached out and touched a
chilled, sodden lock of dark hair and rolled it between his fingers.
In a soft, strained voice he began to croon, "You are my sunshine...
my only sunshine..."
D'Argo glanced over at his friend in concern. The devastated Human
had slipped into an odd fugue state since they had pulled Aeryn from
the water. Crichton had calmly helped them load the Module onto the
transport and in a cold, empty voice asked to be restrained for the
ride back to the facility. Since then, he had crouched next to their
fallen shipmate, rocking and muttering under his breath.
"You make me happy ... when skies are gray..."
Crichton felt as though a Marauder had landed on his chest. His heart
had frozen in his throat as he watched Aeryn fall from the sky. No
matter how hard he'd tried since then, he couldn't draw a decent
breath. The muscles of his chest seemed to be locked in a permanent
clench.
"You'll never know dear..." his voice cracked and he whispered
painfully, "how much I love you." He resumed his song with a
shuddering breath: "Please don't take my sunshine away..."
D'Argo shook his head in disgust as the Human began his haunted
refrain once again.
"You are my sunshine... my only sunshine..."
~*~*~*~*~*~
The Ice Planet:
The central storage chamber was a vaulting structure, stacked high
with the frozen cadavers of countless species ready to be utilized as
"spare parts" as required by the facility's surgeons.
"I don't get it." Chiana chirped nervously, "I mean, Aeryn's dead.
Isn't she?" She tilted her head at her companions and then glanced
over at the motionless figure standing next to the cryostasis unit.
She lowered her voice in belated compassion. "I mean, how's this
gonna do any good? Dead is dead, isn't it?"
Pa'u Zotoh Zhaan, 10th level priestess of the Delvian Seek, stood in
the center of a pool of blue serenity in the cold gray chamber. She
gazed down at the tiny Nebari girl and shook her head sadly. "I do
not know, my dear, but Tocot feels he may be able to revive Aeryn. He
has some experience with Sebacean physiology, after all, and he
believes that Aeryn's death was caused directly by exposure to
intensely cold temperatures, hypothermia."
The Delvian glanced toward the tube holding the woman she had come to
call "friend" over the past two cycles. "Sebaceans are unusually
sensitive to temperature extremes, intense heat causes irreparable
harm through heat delirium, but intense cold triggers a sort of
'suspension' of life. It is rather akin to the Peacekeeper Kill-Shot;
it causes a state of 'lifelessness' rather than death. That is why
Crais was so insistent we place her in cryostasis immediately."
"That frelling Greebol. We should never have trusted him." The young
Nebari thief hissed. She glanced again at the dejected figure
standing nearby and queried wistfully, "So, Aeryn might be okay, do
ya think?"
"Goddess willing, Tocot also mentioned some microbes with restorative
properties which live in the waters. Perhaps they may factor into her
recovery." Zhaan knew that they were extraordinarily lucky to have
recovered Aeryn's remains so quickly from the icy depths and to have
had access to cryostasis. Unnoticed, she approached the unit and it's
silent sentinel, regarding him with both sorrow and compassion. She
shifted her gaze to the object of his fascination. No damage or
decay had touched the countenance of the beautiful Sebacean, who lay
like one merely sleeping.
'She's like Sleeping Beauty.' Crichton mused as he ran sensitive
fingers reverently along the curve of the cryostasis unit that
encased the one light in his darkened world. 'Or better yet, Snow
White. Hair as black as night, skin as white as milk, lips as blue
as..." He stopped himself, savagely pushing away a spinning
kaleidoscope of memories, each one focusing on her warm, perfect
lips. 'Stop it Johnny-boy, this ain't no fairy story, and you ain't
no prince.'
He closed his eyes and suddenly <flash> he was in a freezing cold
transport pod bending toward her upturned face hesitantly <flash>
leaning in to breathe on her delicate skin as the rain fell on a
sodden gray Sydney afternoon <flash> cradling her contentedly in his
embrace under Pilot's console <flash> comforting her in his arms as
she sobbed inconsolably <flash> sharing a honey sweet kiss full of
promise and hope for the future <flash> 'Stop it, stop it, stop,
stop...'
"Stop."
Zhaan looked at her Human friend with concern as he growled under his
breath. She gently touched his neck, momentarily sensing the torment
he carried within. He opened dull, red-rimmed eyes and offered a
watery, half-hearted smile to his friend.
"What's the word, Zhaanie?" Crichton asked wearily.
The Delvian smiled gently. "Hopeful."
~*~*~*~*~*~
Moya:
It was a bone-weary crew that disembarked from the transport pod.
Everyone kept a careful eye on the unnaturally quiet Human and the
equally unnaturally docile Sebacean. 'This is not good.' D'Argo mused
to himself as he stepped off the Pod he had piloted up to the still-
recovering Moya. He hovered protectively near Aeryn, who was visibly
pale and trembling. As she took the last step down, she faltered
slightly, before doubling over in a fit of coughing. Everyone seemed
reach for her at once.
John's heart stopped, and then restarted as he touched her,
reconfirming that she was there, real, alive. The others deferred to
him, to the pair's obvious bond. Aeryn turned slightly toward
Crichton, trusting him to be there to hold and support her as he
always had, but was surprised and wounded to find him stepping away
from her. "John..." she said softly.
He shook his head, studying the toe of his boot. "Take care of her
Blue." he murmured to the Delvian priestess before he fled into the
bowels of the great Leviathan.
Aeryn gazed after him, perplexed. She shifted her gaze to her
comrades, who wouldn't quite meet her glance. Zhaan gently took her
arm and began leading the exhausted ex-Peacekeeper to the infirmary.
"It's been a difficult time for everyone, my dear. John took your
death very hard. We were all quite concerned for him, for a time."
She shook her head sadly. "Thank the Goddess you have recovered,
otherwise..."
"We didn't know what he might do." Chiana chimed in, her dark, liquid
eyes betraying her concern for the man who had become her foster-
brother in the Uncharted Territories. "He went a little fahrbot there
... afterwards." She picked up a pack and moved to help Jothee with
supplies from the transport.
"He felt tremendously guilty," D'Argo growled from behind them, as he
placed a caring hand on the Sebacean's shoulder. He recalled the grim
hours following the dark-haired woman's 'death.' "I wasn't sure he
would survive, or if he even wanted to."
Aeryn's eyes flew to her friend's. The Luxan nodded meaningfully. "We
kept him away from sharp objects."
~*~*~*~*~*~
TBC