Disclaimer: Hardly surprisingly, the characters on Farscape aren't mine.
(Although Santa, if you're reading this.)
Spoilers: Infinite Possibilities, Part Two, Icarus Abides
Tears
For a long time, Aeryn could do nothing but cry. John was dead now. And even though when they returned to Moya, there would be another John, it wouldn't be the John who she had loved. The John who had loved her back, ravishing her body, kissing her lips, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. He was a man who shared not only the same face as her lover, but was identical in every way to the man she had loved and lost. Except in one way: he was not the man who had made love to her.
Aeryn sighed as she caressed her stomach, and the life growing inside her. John died, not knowing that he was to be a father to her child. Their child was to grow up not knowing her real father, but instead believing him to be a man identical to the one who remained. Her John was never going to hold his daughter - for Aeryn knew it was a girl. Instead that honour, the honour of fatherhood, would go to his substitute. Aeryn would not deny her daughter a father, even though this was not the man who had impregnated her. To Aeryn, he was just a shadow of the man she had loved, and had made love to.
More tears began to fall as she remembered the too brief time they had spent together. Tears for her lover, cut down in his prime; killed by his desire to return home. Tears for the child, who would never know the true story of her parents as long as Aeryn breathed. Tears for the John who remained, who would love her as her John had loved her, but whom she knew she could never love as much as the one before.
"Goodbye John Crichton," she whispered, staring out into the darkness of space, her tear stained eyes fixed on the brightest star she could see. But in her heart, she knew that she was never going to be truly able to say goodbye to the man she loved.
Spoilers: Infinite Possibilities, Part Two, Icarus Abides
Tears
For a long time, Aeryn could do nothing but cry. John was dead now. And even though when they returned to Moya, there would be another John, it wouldn't be the John who she had loved. The John who had loved her back, ravishing her body, kissing her lips, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. He was a man who shared not only the same face as her lover, but was identical in every way to the man she had loved and lost. Except in one way: he was not the man who had made love to her.
Aeryn sighed as she caressed her stomach, and the life growing inside her. John died, not knowing that he was to be a father to her child. Their child was to grow up not knowing her real father, but instead believing him to be a man identical to the one who remained. Her John was never going to hold his daughter - for Aeryn knew it was a girl. Instead that honour, the honour of fatherhood, would go to his substitute. Aeryn would not deny her daughter a father, even though this was not the man who had impregnated her. To Aeryn, he was just a shadow of the man she had loved, and had made love to.
More tears began to fall as she remembered the too brief time they had spent together. Tears for her lover, cut down in his prime; killed by his desire to return home. Tears for the child, who would never know the true story of her parents as long as Aeryn breathed. Tears for the John who remained, who would love her as her John had loved her, but whom she knew she could never love as much as the one before.
"Goodbye John Crichton," she whispered, staring out into the darkness of space, her tear stained eyes fixed on the brightest star she could see. But in her heart, she knew that she was never going to be truly able to say goodbye to the man she loved.