Warmth

By Felicity

Disclaimer: I don’t own them.
Author’s Notes: AERYN’S ALIVE!!!!! <happy dance> This
is a tag to "Season of Death." John and Aeryn talk.

---

 

The room was dark, silent. A tomb, John Crichton
thought, pausing in the doorway. Like she’d put
herself into a tomb. No, he reminded himself, they
didn’t have tombs here. It was space burial for any
real soldier. Aeryn would be buried at space now.

Except she wasn’t. Except she was lying in her dark
bed, warm and real, breathing gently.

John took uncertain steps into the room, softly,
softly, not wanting to wake her. She deserved the
rest. God knows she’s been through enough...too much.
Far too much.

"Trying to sneak up on me John?"

He started, tensing, and then relaxed as quickly. She
shifted on the bed, turning on her side to gaze up at
him. "I thought you were asleep."

"Then why’d you come in?" she demanded, not sounding
harsh, just...tired. Curious. And a little teasing.
John shrugged and told the truth.

"I had to see you…to make sure you were really here,
you were..."

"Alive," she finished for him.

"Alive," John repeated, breathing the word like a
prayer. He sat down on the edge of her bed without
waiting for an invitation. She didn’t say anything,
just gazed up at him. "Did I wake you?"

"I wasn’t sleeping."

"Why not? You need rest," he scolded gently.

"Then why did you come wake me up?" she laughed.

"I didn’t wake you up—" He cut off, grinning at
himself, and bent down without thought, pressing a
kiss to her forehead. "I love you."

"John..." she whispered, half plea, half admonition.

"I don’t accept that Aeryn," he said gently, as if he
were explaining something to a little child.
"Emotions make me stronger. Make me fight."

"Do they?" Aeryn asked, probing for the truth. John
sighed and flopped down onto the bed beside her,
staring up at her ceiling. One hand reached over and
slipped beneath her head, tangling in her hair.

"When I thought you were gone...I didn’t want to keep
going. It was my fault. I thought I deserved that
death…And there was nothing left to live for. I
begged them to kill me, to let me die."

"See? You are a fool."

"Acknowledged...but are you listening to what I’m
saying Aeryn?"

"I heard you," she replied, a touch of the acerbic in
her voice.

"Did you really?" John turned on his side so he could
see her face; gazed deeply into her eyes. "Baby, I
didn’t want to live without you. And I still don’t.
Insisting we stay apart is like condemning me to life
without color, or rock and roll, or…or something I
can’t describe because I’ve never felt this way about
anyone or anything else!" John lapsed into silence,
his eyes begging though his face was calm. His hand
stilled in her hair, waiting for a reply.

"Maybe it isn’t about condemning *you*," Aeryn replied
quietly, and John got the feeling that was as honest
as she was capable of being. He understood...he
thought he understood.

"What was it like?"

She didn’t have to ask what he was talking about. "It
was cold. Just...cold. And I was sad, because I knew
I wouldn’t see you again. I just wanted to be warm
again...but it cost Zhaan her life."

"It’s not your fault," he insisted. "If you have to
blame someone, blame me. It was my insanity that
killed you in the first place."

"It wasn’t you John, it was Scorpius."

"So blame Scorpy. But don’t try and close yourself
off because you feel guilty. That’d be wasting
Zhaan’s gift!" John exclaimed. She winced, turning
away from him. In a moment all he could see was the
curve of her back, the fall of her hair. He sighed
and brushed aside a soft strand, placing a kiss on the
back of her neck.

"Please John," she whispered, her voice shaking a
little.

"Aeryn, I just lost you, and then I got you back. It
was...is...a miracle. I’m not going to lose you
again, not like this. And I don’t think you really
want to be lost."

"It was cold there," Aeryn whispered. "Too cold."

"So I’ll make it warm again," John promised, hitching
himself up on an elbow, scooting closer. He draped an
arm around Aeryn’s hips and bent to kiss her shoulder.

"You can’t just fix everything like that," she said, a
laugh lurking behind her voice.

"Baby, I’ve got moves you’ve never even imagined," he
purred and an astonished laugh escaped her throat.

"I ought to throw you across the room," Aeryn scolded.

"But you don’t want to...Come on, Aeryn, admit it.
You’re just scared. You think you screwed up, and
hurt Zhaan. But emotions didn’t impair your
judgement, no more than they would have impaired
D’Argo’s or Chi’s. Hell, we all care about each
other. It’s the only way we survive. And that’s what
we’re going to do. We’re going to survive. Both of
us."

"I am scared," Aeryn admitted quietly, tilting her
head back to look up at him. "I...I didn’t like being
dead very much. It wasn’t...it wasn’t light, like you
promised. It was just cold."

"You never really died," John reminded her. "Maybe
that comes later."

"And maybe it doesn’t. I don’t want to find out."

"Neither do I," John agreed. "But laying here by
yourself not sleeping is not going to warm you up."

"And you think *you* can?"

"Sunshine, you love me," John grinned. "You said it.
Now I get to hold you to it for the rest of your long,
long life."

"Mm. I think that goes both ways."

"Do you hear me complaining?"

"I hear all together too much of you. Be quiet.
Leave a girl to get her rest..."

"Well, I can do part of that..." John murmured, and
found something better to do with his mouth than talk.

Aeryn slept that night; deeply, soundly, without the
faintest hint of a chill.

The End