Role Reversal
Disclaimer: I don't own Farscape, and can't even begin to think of how silly it would be to try to claim it.
Author's Note: This little snippet doesn't belong anywhere/anywhen, although it does have vague spoilers for season three. I found it while cleaning out my files today, and thought it was cute enough to post.
It was, thought John, the very kind of scenario that before his twin would have been funny, cute, even sexy as hell. That just made it all the more twisted now that his twin was dead—now that Aeryn had seen John die.
The planet they were on was matriarchal, and, of course, some frelling matriarch wanted John, of all people in the frelling universe, for her consort. John didn't think that was very funny anymore, and not even very flattering.
For a moment, he didn't think Aeryn would do anything when they'd started to take him away, but she'd surprised him by acting a little like she might have before…everything. No, that wasn't why she'd surprised him. It was because she acted a little like he had, that one time when they'd been stuck on the desert planet and had to act their way out of being killed or captured by the bounty hunters.
She was all deadly calm. "You can't take him."
"He yours, sister?"
"Yes."
And she imbued that word with such deadly seriousness that they'd backed away, even though they were much stronger.
Now, of course, they had to stay together, in one room, in one bed. At any other time, John would have been teasing her, drawing her out, studiously ignoring her pointed looks, and hoping for a glimpse of humor underneath it all.
Here, now, it was all John could do to try to ignore the irony and pain of the situation, and for once he wasn't even thinking of his own pain. It simply didn't matter in the face of hers.
Aeryn stood by the bed, wearing only a light shirt and boxers. John could see her trying to deal with the situation, trying to let go of everything enough to get into bed and fall asleep, and failing miserably.
She started to shake, and John finally couldn't take it anymore.
"Frell this."
He was out of the bed in less than a microt, and had her in his arms in less than half of that. He thought maybe she'd back away, or deck him, or…
But nothing prepared him for Aeryn Sun, ex-Peacekeeper, the woman who had been steadily ignoring him for monens, collapsing into him, burying her head in his chest, and crying, sobbing as if she were at the end of her rope.
"Shh. It's…okay." He murmured to her in a low voice. "Baby, I know. It's hard. You don't have to…" Here he lost his words, but it didn't matter, because she was still hearing his message loud and clear. He shifted a little and sat down on the edge of the bed, still holding her. He held her until she quieted, and kept holding her until they both drifted off to sleep.