Title: Sickness of Shadows

Author: Cret Kid (aka Cal)

Email: rdcottrell@yahoo.com

Category: episode related, missing scene from DWTB, angst

Rating: PG

Warnings: none

Characters: Pilot, Aeryn

Pairings: None

Summary: "His words had the desired effect. The slight wrinkling around the eyes, the change in cadence as breath caught. A stronger physical blow could not have been landed."

Author Notes: I need to find a new disk to play in my stereo 'cause "Strange Fire" is making me melancholy. Many kudos to my patient beta readers.

Story Notes: Spoilers through season three, including "Dog With Two Bones"

Disclaimer: I don't own them, but boy do I want to be them, even if the show may be finished.

Author's Website: www.oocities.org/rdcottrell/fiction.html

"Sickness of Shadows"

================

Pilot turned slightly in his station, adjusting one control after another.

The atmospheric scrubbers needed attention; he would ask Commander Crichton to look into it.

The DRD's assigned to Tier 3 reported that the flooding caused by the rogue Leviathan's attack was nearly contained.

There were slight fluctuations in electrolyte levels in Moya's amnexus fluids; though noteworthy, not a major concern.

Moya was recovering, slowly but surely. The others were concerned, asking from time to time how Moya was faring. They could not help but feel the slight rumbles and tremors as the great Leviathan carried on through the pain, insisting through Pilot that she was fine. Most of the crew accepted his assurances.

The only crew member that could see through that façade was in a world of pain herself.

He watched the former Peacekeeper cross towards him, the shadows under her eyes as dark as the hair she had braided tightly behind her head. She was barely recognizable as the woman that left only a few monens ago to fend off a Peacekeeper retrieval squad. Since the return of Talyn's crew, Pilot and Moya had been acutely aware of her loss with the death of the other John Crichton. While there had been a mission - rebuilding the transport pod, finding the command carrier, destroying Scorpius' wormhole research - the Officer Sun of old had efficiently seen through whatever was required of her.

During the journey to the sacred place, though, he and Moya had seen a marked change in her behavior. Gone was the Aeryn he had come to know. Gone too was the proficient soldier that did her duty.

This Aeryn was pensive. Restless. Quiet. Edgy. Exhausted. As if all of her energy had been sapped in making sure the wormhole research was destroyed. Making sure the other John Crichton's sacrifice had not been for naught. Pilot was aware of what had transpired with the other crew through Talyn's conversations with his mother. He was, perhaps outside of those that had been there, the only one who knew the depth of pain she carried.

It had been Dominar Rygel, strangely enough, that first asked Pilot to delegate more DRD's to watching over her after their return to Moya. Rygel insinuated that she would react … poorly to anyone that tried to offer a sympathetic ear.

The Hynerian had also suggested hiding all of the fellip nectar on board.

Pilot had done as instructed though he could not fathom why. Aeryn had barely visited the central chamber since their return. She only went to her own chamber to shower and change clothes. When not seeing to repairs of Moya or the Prowler she had absconded from the command carrier before its destruction, she was more often than not found walking tiers by the DRDs.

Her hands would trace the curves and ribs of Moya's corridors when most everyone else was in their rest period. Sometimes the DRDs picked up audio in their watchful state; Pilot didn't know whom she was addressing, but the accompanying sounds of pain and sorrow and Moya's maternal responses told him enough.

On more than one occasion, the DRDs had found her asleep, nestled against one of Moya's ribs on a tier rarely visited by anyone else in the crew. Commander Crichton had developed a similar habit after the crews split, when he too tried to fight against insomnia. Pilot had once asked him why he would suffer back and neck pain for sleeping upright against Moya's interior walls.

"Moya's got a heartbeat," Crichton had said, soporific. "It's calming, soothing. Babies fall asleep faster when they can feel their mother's heartbeat, or at least that's what I've always been told. Don't knock it 'til you've tried it."

The DRDs had often found Aeryn in the same place Crichton gravitated when he could not sleep. Pilot wondered if there was a subconscious draw to that particular spot. He had discovered that the temperature of Moya's interior walls was warmer in that particular area whenever Aeryn or Commander Crichton wandered there.

Perhaps the Commander had been looking for her; perhaps he had been having a bad night himself. Perhaps that was why he had not seen her. He had tripped over her huddled body. Just as suddenly, the Commander had been thrown against the opposite wall, forearm across his throat and a pulse pistol at his temple.

From the perspective of the DRDs, it was hard to tell who was more surprised.

Pilot would have been worried had it been anyone but Crichton. As the adrenaline rush subsided, they had sagged to the floor. When Pilot realized both were too bone weary to move further, he had sent D'Argo to escort them to their respective quarters.

DRDs made sure that both got the rest they so desperately needed by disarming chronometers, confiscating comms and preventing unannounced visits.

"Pilot," she called quietly. There was none of the animation in her voice that he was so used to hearing when she came to visit the den. She didn't sit on the edge of the console as he was accustomed, but stood to the side with one hand braced against the console. Touching, but not touching.

Trusting that Moya would tell him if anything was amiss, he turned away from his controls. He knew why Aeryn was here and believed this conversation required as much attention as he was able to give her.

"Officer Sun," he replied, gauging her response to her formal, former title.

She had always been and would always be Officer Sun to him, just as Commander Crichton would always be Commander Crichton, Ka D'Argo Ka D'Argo and Chiana Chiana. Pilot did not have the proficiency or even the inborn ease for the use of affectations such that Commander Crichton and Chiana had for the others.

Though, Pilot did enjoy watching Dominar Rygel scoff at his -- how did Commander Crichton refer to it? ah, yes, snarky -- his snarky use of 'Your Eminence' when the tiny regent was being particularly tasking in his requests.

"How is Moya?" she asked, without the mechanical tone he had come to expect in recent weekens.

She always asked after Moya. At least some things never changed.

"Moya is … doing better. She thanks you for your concern."

He anticipated what she would say next, as if reciting from a well-read script.

"And you?"

Moya knew Aeryn's habits as well and gently reminded him of their earlier silent conversation. He was told not to make this any more difficult than necessary.

However, he had always had a bit of a rebellious nature.

"I am … saddened. Everyone is … leaving."

His words had the desired effect. The slight wrinkling around the eyes, the change in cadence as breath caught. A stronger physical blow could not have been landed.

"Jool is staying," Aeryn rationalized. She paused, looked away for just a microt. "As is Crichton."

He wanted to remind her of her promise never to abandon Moya or him, spoken so long ago. But Moya silenced his protest, reminding him of a promise he had made to the Leviathan when they discussed such an eventuality. Moya reasoned that Aeryn would not see it as abandonment so long as someone she trusted stayed on board. Aeryn trusted Commander Crichton, despite recent circumstances.

But Pilot wished for her to stay, and a rumble from Moya deterred him. Aeryn heard the gentle giant's response, and a flash of fear crossed her face. She stepped closer to the console, both hands gripping the edge.

"Is Moya all right? Is she still in pain from the other Leviathan's attack?"

"Moya is fine. She and I are … in disagreement."

Bemused, Aeryn leaned against the console now, a half smile adorning her face. "You and Moya are having an argument?"

Moya added her own happy sigh and Aeryn almost laughed.

Under different circumstances, he would have relished the closeness, and the gentle laughter from the one person in the crew he considered a dear friend. It was as if the Peacekeeper pretense she had been wearing like a mantle had fallen aside and the Aeryn he had come to trust and … love … was swimming through to the surface.

But he felt … abandoned. There was a part of him that wanted her to feel as badly as he did at that moment.

"Yes," he replied peevishly. "I don't want you to leave. Moya says it is not my decision to make."

Aeryn stepped back, ashen. It seemed the only thing keeping her upright was her hand on his console. Her eyes didn't leave his face. "It's not."

He swallowed the response he wanted to make. Outside the gentle murmurs of DRDs and Moya, silence reigned in the room.

Pilot looked down for just a microt, feigning interest in his console. "Where will you go?" Will you come back?

The slight change of topic garnered a steeling of her nerves, as if she were preparing for some military campaign. Non-emotional, fully committed to the cause. Pilot wasn't sure he liked that.

"There is a system several arns from here where I was told I could find an ex-Peacekeeper cell. I'll try my luck there."

"And if you are unsuccessful in contacting them?" Will you find someplace else to go?

"There are other cells. This--"

She took a deep breath and met his gaze. He could sense the fear lying just behind firm resolution.

"This is something I need to do," she finally said with as much conviction as she could muster.

"Why?" he asked, sounding much like a petulant child. "Is it because of Commander Crichton?"

Aeryn shook her head vehemently. "No. No, Crichton has nothing to do with this."

"I'm not speaking of the one that stayed on Moya."

Frozen, the blood seemed to drain from Aeryn's face. Several long, silent microts passed without a sound uttered. Pilot wasn't sure she had taken a breath in that time.

"In part," she replied softly, head bowed and turned away. Shoulders tensed, she added just as quietly, "There are things I have to take care of. Answers that I need."

He so desperately wanted to know why she felt she had to leave Moya, leave them behind to follow this quest alone. "And we cannot help in this endeavor?"

"I won't endanger you or the others."

If he could believe this was just another mission and that she was headed back to Moya at its conclusion, he decided he could accept her absence. But if she was willingly putting herself in jeopardy--

"Seeking these answers will put you in danger?" he asked, concerned.

"I don't know," she answered honestly.

"And you cannot share with me why you feel you need to leave your home?"

"I wish I could."

He watched the tears pool in her eyes, and he regretted causing her such heartache. His gaze fell on her fingers still tightly clenched around the edge of his console. Cautiously, tentatively, he eased one claw to rest on her back of her hand.

A sob escaped from her throat at the contact. She turned her hand over and clung to his claw as if it were a lifeline. At that moment he knew she wouldn't, couldn't say goodbye.

Aeryn took a deep breath, shaking the sorrow from her face. "I will find you and Moya. I promise you that," she said, squeezing and releasing his claw.

"Be safe, Aeryn Sun. I will miss you."

"And I you, Pilot."

As she took her leave, Pilot sighed. Moya tried to comfort, sooth him. He did not think he would be successful in changing her mind, but he knew of something -- someone that might. They had already discussed the possibility.

Sequencing the frequency of Commander Crichton's comm, Pilot called over Moya's objection, "Commander, she is headed to the docking bay now."

"Thanks, Pilot."

END