Embraceable You

By: Jigs
Feedback: Any and all comments welcome. Email: jigsaw4@aol.com
Archiving: Please email me first
Rating: PG-13 (J/A)
Category: Drama
Warnings: Contains spoilers for "Liars, Guns & Money: A Not So Simple Plan"
Summary: Explores Aeryn's thoughts at the end of the ep and what might have
happened next. Notes: This was written as if I hadn't seen the last two eps
of the LGM Trilogy or DMD.
Thank Yous: Lots of cookies to share for this fic: to Phil for his most
invaluable beta and helping with the rough patches; to Nate4C for encouraging
me when the muse was unwilling; and to Toby for suggesting the Ira Gershwin
song for the title. Used without permission.
Disclaimer: Regrettably I have no claim to Farscape, my little shippy muse
just had to explore what Aeryn was thinking during the end of the ep.

---

Moya's corridor was quiet, filled only by the soft echo of her heavy boots on
the hard deck. She found him, sitting near the far wall, his arms resting on
his knees and his head slumped dejectedly between his shoulders, eyes
unfocused.

Aeryn had been looking for John for almost an arn. On the return trip to Moya
from the Shadow Depository he didn't speak, lost in his own inner turmoil;
she hadn't pushed him. He'd disappeared soon after they docked and she had
initially given him the privacy he wanted, but that was over two arns ago.

Reluctant to wait any longer, she had gone looking for him, not wanting to
leave him alone for too long. It still made her uneasy offering comfort, but
her gut told her he needed her - if not to talk, then at least to be close.
She approached him slowly, stopping in front of him, studying his expression
and suppressing the urge to hold him. For a brief microt she thought he was
ignoring her, until he acknowledged her presence.

As if in slow motion, John raised his head, his eyes traveling from her boots
to her eyes, but not with the same intensity he usually had when he admired
her. This look was so different it alarmed her. His exquisite blue eyes
were red rimmed and weary; there was no hint of his reliable optimism that
always implied a hopefulness she never fully understood. Aeryn swallowed
heavily, but otherwise showed no sign of the worry that was rising in her as
rapidly as flash flood waters in a dry canyon.

Still not able to look at her he said quietly, "it was real …I didn't imagine
it."

"What was real, John?" She asked, hoping he was really talking to her and
not the disturbing voice of doom that regularly frequented his thoughts. She
needed answers, needed to understand what was happening in his mind. Aeryn
moved to sit beside him.

Just her presence seemed to relax him a bit and he adjusted his position.
Aeryn hoped it was a sign he was opening up as he released his knees and
crossed his legs in front of him, resting his hands in his lap. But still he
didn't look at her. That was surprising - he usually liked looking at her
when they talked. She liked it too, even if she never acted like it mattered
one way or the other. This time, however, their roles were reversed - she
watched him intently as he sat forlornly, studying some non-existent flaw in
the floor.

John closed his eyes slowly as if the effort took all his energy. Aeryn
looked away briefly, summoning the strength she needed for herself and for
him.

"I've got Scorpius in my head," he muttered. "It was hard …letting him die."
John's voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and seemingly filled with
remorse.

"How can that be?" She thought, not yet understanding the depth of his pain
and torment.

"There's still a part of me that wishes I'd saved him." Still unable to look
at her, John did not see the slight frown that passed across Aeryn's
concerned face.

"Well, you mustn't forget what he wanted from you …he wanted to dissect your
brain." She stared at him, willing him to understand what she was saying.
Her mounting fear changing swiftly to agitation as he continued to stare
ahead unfocused.

"Frell! What did Scorpius do to you?" She fought the temptation to scream
at him in frustration, but outwardly she remained cool and calm.

"Hmmm …" he mumbled, rolling his eyes and grasping his knees to his chest
again, hugging them as he leaned his head down to rest his lips against his
knee.

At this point Aeryn couldn't prevent her concern for him from reflecting in
her face. John kept his head down, still speaking into his knees as he
continued.

"Aeryn …I …uhmm …I meant what I said," he paused, "…didn't say…."

Without hesitating she reached for him, drawing him into her embrace and
gently stroking his hair and neck. It was an unconscious response, a reaction
as natural to her as breathing. She _wanted_ to hold him, tell him that she
loved him too, and that everything would be all right, never considering that
what seemed so instinctive at that moment would have been impossible just
monens ago.

John rested his head against her shoulder and closed his eyes, lost in the
comfort she offered. Glancing down at him, she bit her lip and rested her
head against his. She could give him hollow reassurance when all was so
uncertain. She squeezed her eyes shut, then refocused on some invisible
point in the distance, beyond Moya's living walls.

After a time, John roused slightly, opening his eyes and pressing his lips to
her cheek. Aeryn looked at him with gentle eyes. He was so despondent she
had to hide her own despair. She could feel her heart begin to shatter.

"It's getting worse, Aeryn," he uttered, barely above a whisper, "the voices,
the …." He took a calming breath and continued, "I'm losing control,
forgetting periods of time when I don't remember what happened …." Tears
welled in his sad eyes and his throat closed off. He swallowed heavily,
struggling to continue, "I'm scared, Aeryn, scared of …."

She placed her finger to his lips to silence him, "I know," she interrupted,
squeezing his hand tightly, "I know."

He leaned heavily against her and she gently turned him so that his head
rested in her lap. Closing his eyes, he smiled perceptibly and settled into
the warmth of her thighs. After caressing his temples for several microts,
Aeryn bent down to touch his lips with hers.

"Aeryn," he whispered as the strain of the day slowly began to ease, lessened
by her rare display of tenderness.

"Shhhh," she hummed back, wanting to enjoy their closeness while she
contemplated what he had said to her.

Once again she wanted to tell him she loved him just as he had tried to tell
her in the shadow vault, but fear gripped her. That overwhelming sensation
of panic infused every pore until her skin tingled and her tongue tasted like
tin. "Should I tell him …" she wondered silently, " …that I love him." She
sighed in relief as she repeated the words in her mind, "it is the truth, I
love John Crichton … but can I tell him now?"

If Scorpius was dead they still faced the danger of rescuing D'Argo's son.
And if Scorpius survived, he would be more fanatical, pursuing John like a
maniacal hunter after a vulnerable prey.

This was the wrong time, the wrong place, just as it had been in the
depository. And yet something in the very depth of her wanted to say those
words to him as much as she wanted to hear them. It was as if they were
vital to her very survival. But she had stopped him then, just as she
stopped herself now. The thought ricocheted through her mind, bouncing and
pinging until she finally realized there was only one answer: the most
important thing was protecting John, from Scorpius and from himself. Saving
him was more important than hearing what John so desperately wanted to tell
her and what she so desperately wanted to hear.

Thinking of it now, a part of her understood why he chose that moment to
speak of love. The hallucinations, mingled with the uncontrollable voice of
his nemesis harassing him, were growing stronger. The specter that haunted
him all these monens, the half-breed monster who tortured him in the Aurora
Chair, was slowly, methodically taking away his sanity. His grasp of reality
was decaying as Scorpius' implant insinuated itself deeper into his brain.
Aeryn knew she could not let that happen; she loved him. A revelation she
had only begun to acknowledge in recent weekens as John spiraled inevitably
under the control of the neural chip.

In the depository she watched him flail helplessly at the disembodied voice
that only John could hear. The last threads of his sanity seemed to unravel
in front of her and she acted quickly. Grabbing him roughly she forced him
back against the wall, out of sight, as their pursuers rushed toward their
position. It was an attempt to shock him into the moment and bring him back
to her, but it was she who was shocked.

In his desperation he caught her startled face between his hands and kissed
her soundly, his warm lips pressing hard against hers. A part of her wanted
to kiss him endlessly, but once again she fought her feelings and gently
pushed him away. She must protect him when he was incapable of protecting
himself.

Aeryn was only beginning to realize that John was attempting to ground
himself, chase away the evil master continuously chattering inside his head.
Looking at him now, he seemed so peaceful, but she knew Scorpius still lay
in wait, ready to reassert his power over him.

Frustrated at her inability to help him, she felt unwanted tears pooling
again in her smoky blue eyes. Unable to hold them back, the sad teardrops
streamed down her cheeks as the anguish of ever doubting him enveloped her.

"No," she chided herself silently; "this is not about my failure."

Another disturbing thought emerged in her tortured mind. He had chosen to
protect her so many times. When Crais condemned her to certain death, he
convinced her to live. And John was the only one who fought to save her when
NamTar threatened to destroy her. He was always there, reaching out to help
her even when she admonished him for his weaknesses.

Continuing to stroke his cheek as he sighed contentedly, Aeryn remembered the
mission she thought was certain suicide, when he had placed himself in
jeopardy by infiltrating the Gammak base in a foolhardy plan to preserve her
life once again. He had insisted, trying the only thing he could think of to
save her despite her useless efforts to talk him out of it. She smiled sadly
knowing there was no talking John out of anything he was determined to do.

As the memories assaulted her, she realized once again John had chosen to
protect her by not telling her what Scorpius had done to him, knowing she
would blame herself if she knew how severely his time in the Aurora chair had
damaged him. Even after he was rescued from the Gammak base, John shielded
her from the knowledge of his suffering, risking his own sanity in the
process.

His sacrifice was all too obvious, and she berated herself for not seeing it
sooner. This man, this scientist whose fantastic brain had solved problem
after problem, had placed her life above his own time and again. She
recognized now by refusing the help she sincerely offered the night he played
chess against an invisible opponent, that he had still protected her. It was
humbling for her to concede that the man she once thought inferior and
deficient was in actuality the most noble, fearless person she had ever known.

TBC