Ray of Light
Summary: DK reflects
Disclaimer: Farscape is so obviously not mine. Please feel free not to sue.
Time Line: Takes place sometime during the second season.
Authors Note: I found this and a couple of other FS stories while going through my computer files, so I decided I'd post 'em. Hope you guys enjoy. I love feedback (especially the good kind, though I realize this isn't some of my best work).
And I'd like to apologize in advance for this particular story- any one know what a Jillfic is? ;)
"Hey John! Wake up- let's go!" DK yelled as he stepped inside the apartment and shut the door behind him. The place was a lot cleaner then his, but then- that was John for you.
The dark-haired young man glanced down the hallway to the partially closed bedroom door and yawned. It was way too early to be going to work. Despite the fact that he had been waking up and going to the office at the same time every week day now for who knew how long, he refused to be a morning person. Weekends he would sleep all day and be out all night, keeping John up with him, though he could tell his friend would rather be in bed.
Letting his stomach do the thinking, he made his way to the small kitchen and opened the fridge as though it were his own. Actually, if it were his own he wouldn't have been opening it, knowing that nothing lay inside except for a nearly-empty jar of mayonnaise and a half eaten sandwich.
His eyes ran over the contents of the fridge, until they landed on something edible. DK shut the door, a handful of grapes in one hand. He threw one up into the air and caught it in his mouth casually, then surveyed the countertops and cupboards, thinking lazily.
This is it, he thought, catching another grape in his mouth. He knew his body would ignore the seriousness of his thoughts. That was just the way he was. But his mind ran over the concept with a kind of hunger.
For the first time in quite a few months he thought about John's disappearance, unsure why. He remembered clearly every event that had lead up to the disaster, wishing that forgetting it all was a plausible option.
When the Farscape 1 had vanished, the certainty of John's death had been overwhelming. DK hadn't been sure what to do with himself for those next two years. Even after the memorial service, the grieving, the acceptance- he hadn't been the same. And colleagues would point this out to him on a daily basis, recommending different therapists. It was their own way of grieving. As though discussing the problems of others would make their own go away.
It had been the two years from hell. Sure, he had lost his father back in high school; he knew what loss felt like. But losing his best friend had been different. He had felt responsible. And, even while in the middle of this slight depression, he recognized the improbability that he would ever be the man he had once been. He had even wondered, every so often, if the man people said he had been had ever existed.
But then a ray of light had punctured through those metaphoric gray clouds that surrounded him. He could still hear the voice of John's father over the phone.
"I don't know how but . . . John- he . . . he's alive." The Colonel had been in such a state of shock that he had had trouble forming a complete sentence. But when his words finally started to make some sense, DK's jaw dropped and tears came to his eyes. Despite that common sense screamed disbelief through him in debilitating waves, he had wanted so much for the words to be true that acceptance came with little effort.
When John had been returned to them, it had been the happiest moment in DK's short life.
There had been an awkwardness between the friends for about a month when John first got back. Crichton's wild stories about aliens and living ships had almost gotten him shipped off to the loony bin. However, the new technology on his ship and the fact that he now understood any language spoken was all the proof he needed to convince most people of at least part of his stories. Of course, the US government wasn't happy, and had kept him locked up for testing and the like for a good couple of weeks. And they had deemed the new technology on his ship classified, telling him that if he spoke of the past couple of years to any one it would not be looked upon kindly.
The brief awkwardness between friends had been somewhat disturbing. At first both were too happy seeing each other again to notice, but once the excitement had worn off, there seemed to be a lull in conversations and a gap between them that neither knew what to do with. John's efforts to reacquaint himself with his best bud had proved nearly fatal to the friendship, as his words continued to focus on the supposed aliens he had encountered. It seemed that that was the only topic of conversation he could talk about with as much passion as his friend had known in him before the disappearance.
But the two had slowly grown back together, rebuilding their friendship. And both of them were happy now.
Things were not only back to normal, things were better then normal. It was too good to be true, and DK knew it. But then, he would think, perhaps he was being repaid for the grief of the two years when John was gone.
It had been a little over a year since John first came home. DK was seeing someone seriously for the first time in three years. He smiled at the thought of her. They had known each other since the Farscape mission, but had only recently taken an interest in one another. She had bright red hair which had caught his eyes the moment he saw her and made her stand out from the other women at work. Not to mention her personality. She was bright and witty, and always had a good joke. She liked to have fun, which was one of the few things DK was good at.
John had also started seeing someone, which DK was glad of. Even after they had recovered from that initial awkwardness between them, he had always, in the back of his mind, worried about John. His friend had changed so much. But when John had met Lily, DK put his worries to rest. The relationship seemed to assure, not only him, but every one, that John was alright.
DK's mind raced over memories of when John and Lily had started going out and the relief that he had felt. He liked Lily, though she wasn't the kind of girl he would have gone for. She had short, blond hair and a fair complexion. She was always very quiet, but extremely intelligent and good natured. He liked how happy John looked when he was around her.
The young man glanced around the living room, where he had taken a seat on the couch while he waited for John. It wasn't often that he had time to reminisce, so he relished the brief quiet that had been given to him. He popped his last grape into his mouth and looked down at his watch. They were going to be late if John didn't hurry. He grinned at the idea, as it was usually him that made the pair late to work.
"Yo John, this your wake up call. Get a move on!" DK rose and headed for the bedroom at the end of the hallway. His eyes scanned the photographs that lined the walls. A couple of pictures of himself and John. A couple of John's father and a few of John's mother, who had passed away awhile ago.
"Hey Commander! Let's go!" DK yelled as he passed through the doorway of the bedroom. John still lay in bed, entangled in the sheets. DK smiled again, walking to the side of the bed. So John wasn't Mr. Perfect after all. Sometimes DK did wonder. In spite of all the changes in the man, he was still that all-American hero type. Worst of all- he was humble. Chicks loved humble.
"Rise and shine. Well . . . at least rise." DK grinned and shook the other man gently. When John didn't respond, DK's grin widened. So the Commander had finally caught on. The bastard was going to give DK a taste of his own medicine. Memories of all the thousands of mornings in which it had been John who was trying to get DK up and ready for school or work or the big game filled the young man's mind.
"I'm not taking the fall this time. You make us late- you face the big cheese." He shook John harder this time, but the only response he got was a limp arm flung in his face. Hitting him in a friendly gesture of annoyance, DK sighed dramatically.
"Hey, I don't like this anymore then . . ." He trailed off as he noticed the unnatural stillness of the room. Like he always did when he was tired, his eyes focused on a random object to study. If the tests came back positive then everything was okay, if they didn't then he was either drunk, hungover, or dreaming.
But something drew him back to reality. And to John, who still lay there, on the bed as though waiting for DK to leave so he could have a few extra hours to sleep.
DK placed a hand on John's shoulder and, after a sharp intake of breath, his other hand on John's neck.
"Oh God." He whispered. But then immediately wondered if he had really said anything at all.
There was no pulse.
The official report blamed John's death on a sleeping pill overdose. There being no evidence of foul-play, it was written off as suicide.
DK had to wonder, uncertain how his mind was functioning on even the simplest level, if it had all been the government- if they had wanted to silence John, to make sure that he didn't pose a threat to national security. For some reason the idea didn't make sense.
But then he thought of how ludicrous the concept of John committing suicide was. John wasn't the type to do that sort of thing. And even if he was, even if those two years had changed him so drastically that suicide could have been feasible, he had no reason to follow through with it. He had a great girlfriend; he had his father and his best friend; he had a job that he loved. He had been happy.
DK's mind briefly recalled the glassy-eyed looks and edgy tones that he had successfully ignored. Thinking over the past year as though it were a book and not his own life, he saw so many little things that he hadn't acknowledged at the time and that, when added up, became something more than just the occasional vacant stare or grimace.
But his head hurt. So he allowed his brain to shut down. Perhaps he had done too much thinking in those past few days. Perhaps if there was ever a time to ignore reality, it was now. Perhaps, in death, John would find that one thing that he had been able to talk about with as much passion as DK had heard before the Farscape.
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