Back to part seven


"Taraviaan's gonna pay for this," John muttered to himself, the pulse rifle lying ready in his lap, over his crossed legs, its shadow arching across the cave walls, playing against the light thrown by the flames of a small fire. Tendrils of shadow obscured most of Aeryn's body, but her face was fully illuminated by the dull amber glow.  Her mouth was set into a soft line, the curves of her cheeks relaxed, all her anger from before washed away in the peace of rest, her lashes casting soft shadows against her skin.  She looked peaceful.  But would she wake up?  Was it truly an antidote working its way through her system or was it yet another drug, a cruel Narjaain joke?

John sighed and moved closer to her.  He reached out and touched her forehead.  Her skin was cool.  Not fevered.  He hoped that was a good sign. He also hoped to hear the sound of the transport pod landing nearby to take them home to Moya.  D'Argo and Chiana had helped him find this cave on a low hill about one metra from the fortress and then they had left to retrieve the pod.  Aeryn's collapse had changed everything, making a quick return to Moya and to Zhaan's healing hands more necessary than before.  But carrying Aeryn through cold snow had not been an option; they all agreed on that.

John let his hand wander from Aeryn's forehead then let it hover over her cheek.  He hesitated, then rested it gently against her jaw, caressing it with his thumb.  Heat of the moment?  He knew it wasn't so.  Not when they were in the Flax.  Not now.  He leaned over and brushed his lips against her forehead then drew back and watched her face.  Peaceful now.  So angry only hours earlier.  And he couldn't help but think that some of the anger had been born from something already inside of her, the drug merely enhancing her emotions and altering her sense of balance, tilting it towards her darkest places of fear and hostility.  Not towards him, but towards her situation, something he had played no small part in causing so many months ago. Sometimes he wondered if she just wanted to pop him one again...real hard.

John reached out again and squeezed Aeryn's hand, then leaned back against a large rock.  In the dark and silence he sat watching over her.

*****

Aeryn felt the light draft of someone walking by brush her shoulder.  The presence didn't feel like John.  Earlier, she had woken up in the middle of the night to find John asleep against a rock next to her, his head rolled forward onto his chest.  She hadn't woken him, but instead had stoked the fire and watched him.  He looked much like a little boy when he was sleeping. Innocent.  Not the astronaut who had been thrown from his home through a wormhole into an entirely different existence.  She did understand his need to go home.  Really.  She felt the draw of home as well.  Though the term home had taken on slightly different meanings in the past several monens. Moya was her home...for now.  And Zhaan, D'Argo, Pilot, even Rygel had become a family of sorts.  Chiana, well...Chiana was Chiana.  Then there was John. He meant more to her...somehow, despite everything.  And here, on this planet, well, she had something to thank him for.  She had leaned forward and lightly kissed his forehead, whispering 'thank you' before leaning back against another rock and falling asleep again.

Now, she could feel the cool air of morning and the warmth of filtered sun reaching into the deep cave.  And this other person, walking around the cave. Not John.  John was here too, close to her.  She heard him breathing the deep rhythmic breath of sleep.  She lay still, remembering the location of the pulse rifle by the fire.

Keeping her eyes closed, Aeryn felt the swipe of someone's foot pass by her. John made a sudden noise of surprise and his hand came down hard next to her face.  Someone had kicked him.

"Svarstaan," Aeryn heard John say.  There was a smile in his voice.  But fear was present also.

"Yes, John Crichton," Svarstaan said.  "You're more clever than I had anticipa ted.  I don't understand how you managed to avoid drinking the control serum. But you didn't anticipate the difficulty of ridding Officer Sun of the serum.  I see you've knocked her out."

"Yeah, well, what can I say?" John said casually.  Aeryn felt him shift his foot.  "And I see you've found the guard's pulse rifle that I took," John said. "Or should I say the pulse rifle that your people stole from my people?"

Svarstaan laughed softly, but no reply followed.

Aeryn heard Svarstaan step forward.  Then she heard a small struggle, then John's voice again, not as close.  He was standing up.  "Hey, not so hard, buddy," he said.  Again, the smile was in his voice, but fear as well. Svarstaan probably had his own pulse rifle pointed at him, Aeryn surmised.

"I'm through amusing myself with you," Svarstaan said.  Aeryn heard the rifle charging.

< And I'm through with you > Aeryn thought vehemently.  John was silent.  If only she could get Svarstaan to step towards her...

Aeryn moaned suddenly.

Svarstaan looked down.

Aeryn kicked outward, her feet making contact with the hard metal shinguards of Svarstaan's uniform.  He staggered backwards and she jumped up, lunging at him, her hands stretched outwards, ready to grab the pulse rifle.  John uttered an exclamation of surprise then fell back against the wall, out of Svarstaan's grasp as Aeryn struck the Narjaain.

Surprised, Svarstaan dropped one of the rifles at John's feet and raised the other against Aeryn.  But the element of surprise was in her favor and she latched onto the rifle, wrenching it out of Svarstaan's hands, despite his advantage of physical size.  She stepped back and raised the rifle to Svarstaan's face.  He thrust his hand out and pushed the rifle away and down, the forward momentum of his body knocking them both to the ground. Concentrating on each other, neither noticed that John had picked up the fallen rifle and had it trained on Svarstaan.  He was calling for Aeryn to stop, but she didn't hear him.  Or wouldn't hear him.

Aeryn rained several blows on Svarstaan's face and he dropped the rifle they were struggling over.  Aeryn ignored it and struck him again, her anger at the Narjaain's violation of her freedom driving her on.

"Aeryn!" John called out.

Svarstaan attempted to push Aeryn off, but she held firm and used the pantak jab, rendering the large Narjaain weak, but not unconscious.  She yanked Svarstaan to his feet and punched him in the face, the force of the impact thrusting him into the wall.  Aeryn brought her arm back for another strike.

John lowered the rifle.  He took a tentative step forward and put his arm on Aeryn's  shoulder.  "He's not worth it, Aeryn."

Aeryn swung her face towards John.  "If not, then what the hezmana did I go through all of this for?"  She looked back at Svarstaan, preparing for another pantak jab.

John held firmly onto her shoulder.  "Not everything is a test of your mettle, Aeryn.  You've proven yourself...not that that's the point.  You can walk away.  He's not getting up now...at least not by himself. Let's...just...go."  He looked into her eyes, pleading.

Aeryn looked at him, then back at Svarstaan.  Her anger was tangible, a living flame.  Svarstaan had robbed her of her dignity and self-respect.  Her freedom.  Even Crais had offered her freedom of a kind.  The Narjaain created slaves...had made her a slave, for however short a time it lasted.   She had severely injured another Sebacean woman...perhaps even killed her. And they had caused her to almost kill Crichton.  She was taught not to turn on her comrades.  How could she just 'walk away'?  She looked sideways at John again, catching the look in his eyes.  He was pleading with her.

"How can I just walk away after what he did to me?"

John caught his breath.  He wasn't sure if he'd ever seen her this angry. "You're a better person, Aeryn.  Better than him."

Aeryn's eyes flashed.  "Are you going to give me that 'you can be more' dren? Because I'm really not in the mood."

John squeezed her shoulder and tried to place his body in front of her, nudging Svarstaan's limp form with his leg.  The Narjaain was staring up at them with one open eye as Aeryn held onto him with one arm.  John ignored him and looked at Aeryn squarely.  "It's not dren, Aeryn.  And you know it."

Aeryn pushed on John with her free hand.  "Get out of my way, Crichton."

He didn't budge.  "No way."

"Frell you, Crichton.  Get out-"

'No."  John realized he was playing with fire right now.  The enraged Peacekeeper might turn her anger on him.  He felt her extended hand push on him again.  But the touch was different, not as determined.  Uncertain.  Her fingers curled into his robe.  Her nails bit slightly into his chest. "Aeryn," he said simply, shaking his head, holding her gaze, ignoring the slight pain her fingers were inflicting.  He shook his head again, then dared to touch her.

Aeryn flinched slightly as John raised his hand to her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb.  Once, she would have thought the deep sadness and fear in his blue eyes was pathetic.  Feeble.  But now...  Now...

Aeryn released her hold on Svarstaan and the half-conscious Narjaain warrior slid to the floor.  She pulled away from John and stepped backwards, looking to the side.  She could look anywhere but at John's eyes.  A tremor went through her body.  She felt shame.  Shame at what the Narjaain had done to her, shame at her bloodlust.  Her training had taught her to remain level-headed, not go off like some battle-crazed Luxan.  She sensed Crichton's alarm.

"I'm fine, Crichton," Aeryn murmured, her voice hoarse from the tension in her throat.  "I'm all right now.  Let's just get back to Moya."

Aeryn turned and began to walk towards the cave entrace, only realizing after a few steps that John wasn't following her.  She looked back.  "Crichton?" He was still standing in front of Svarstaan, his arms hanging at his sides. He was watching her.  "What are you doing, Crichton?  I said I was fine. Let's go."

John hesitated.

"What are you waiting for?"

"I'm waiting for you, Aeryn."

< What? > her mind called out.  < What's he talking about? >  "What are you talking about, Crichton?"

John took a few steps towards her and held out a hand.  "I'm talking about you, Aeryn.  You're not fine.  Look at you, you're shaking like a Hynerian on a fast."

"Don't be ridiculous.  I am not."  Aeryn brought her hand up to brush away a stray lock of hair.  "See, steady as a-"  Aeryn quickly dropped her hand and averted her eyes.  The evidence of her shock was right before her.  She had seen the tremors in her hand as well as John.  But...she didn't feel shaken. Really, she felt quite all right. "Crichton, really..."

She froze.  John had taken another step towards her.  "Just stop, Aeryn."

She couldn't look at him.

He took another step.  He was only a hand's length away from her.  She could hear him breathing.

"Crichton, we agreed..."

"To hell with agreements," John said, taking a final step.

Aeryn inhaled sharply as John pulled her into his chest.  Her arms went rigid.  She kept her eyes averted.

"Just stop... Aeryn," John pleaded under his breath, saying her name on a whisper.

Aeryn exhaled slightly, holding the rest of her breath.

John stood still.  He could feel her fighting, the tension coming off her body in waves.  He leaned in closer, his mouth poised above her ear.  "Just. Stop."  He kissed her temple lightly.

Another tremor went through Aeryn's body, a shock wave hitting them both. John held onto her.  "Please, Aeryn."

Like a tide being slowly drawn back to sea, the tension rolled out of Aeryn's body.  John stood still, his arms still latched onto her shoulders.  He closed his eyes and let it hit.  A torrent of emotion coalesced around them like a dark, angry rain cloud.  Aeryn's body went limp and he struggled to hold her up against the force of her anguish.  He couldn't let her fall.  Not this time.

"You can do this, Aeryn," John whispered, releasing her shoulders and bracing his arms around her back.

She made a small sound, a whimper, and she shuddered, sinking into him, slowly letting his comforting voice and presence wash over her.  "I can be more," she said into his neck, trying to choke off a sob.

John nodded against her head.  "You can... You are."  He closed his eyes until he heard the sound of another person entering the cave.  He looked up with alarm and saw the hulking shadow of D'Argo hovering at the cave's entrance.  He relaxed and nodded, still holding Aeryn.  She hadn't even reacted to D'Argo's presence.

D'Argo nodded back and exited, stepping over the four Narjaain he had ambushed on the trail to the cave after spying them from the transport pod through a clump of trees.  He had left the transport pod and Chiana in a field below, running after Svarstaan and the other soldiers, only catching up to the four.  Now, the soldiers were unconscious, including Adaair.  D'Argo smiled to himself and sat down against the wall.  He would wait a moment. "Just one of those days," he murmured, smiling to himself.

*****

He watched from the door for a few microts before stepping forward.  She was standing at the front edge of the terrace, her arms relaxed at her sides, a thin, dark silhouette against a background of stars.  She tilted her head slightly at his approach.

"Hey," Aeryn said, without turning to look at him.

"Hey," he answered back, coming to stand at her side, mimicking her stance. "How are you feeling?"

The corner of her mouth quirked up slightly.  "Well, the only true injury I incurred resulted from that little spark shower you created when you jammed the keypad.  But Zhaan healed the wounds quite nicely, thank you."

John flashed her a wry smile.  "Sorry about that."

"I'll live," she said, glancing at him, then looking away, "thanks to you... Thank you, Crichton."

"No problem."  He pivoted slightly then faced her, his head bowed slightly in thought.  "You know," he began, looking up at her again, "you don't always have to prove your strength, Aeryn.  It's...a part...of you.  Your strength, I mean."

She made a small gesture, like a shrug.  Uncertain.  "They took something from me, Crichton.  Like Namtar did.  It was the only way I knew how...to fight back.  By fighting back.  Fighting Svarstaan.  I might have killed that woman back there, for all I know.  And I almost killed you."

John nodded.  He understood.  She probably didn't think he understood, but he did.  "I understand, Aeryn.  It was all I could do not to tear him limb from limb myself.  If I hadn't been so tired, I might have."

"You fought in the fighting pit.  I was impressed.  You fought well."

John chuckled and gave her a sly smile.  "Yeah, for my life!  I thought you had me, Aeryn."

She returned the smile, equally sly.  "Oh believe me, I did.  If you hadn't jammed the door's locking mechanism..." she let the sentence trail off. "Thank you again."

John reached out and rested his hand against her cheek.  "Like I said, no problem.  It was just one of those days."

Aeryn smiled.  "Yes.  One of those days."

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