BAD DREAMS
DISCLAIMER: All the usual disclaimers apply here.
SUMMARY: This short piece is set at some point after Won't Get Fooled Again. Crichton and Chiana are both having trouble sleeping.
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The dream, that same dream again.
Her face loomed over him, lips blue, skin flaky and white, sores on her face and around her mouth. She looked like a walking, talking corpse. She was begging him to save her, her hands clasped as if in prayer, tears forming in her eyes. Her look was one of desperation.
"Please son, help me, help mommy, sweetheart. I'm afraid. Do you love me Johnny? You won't let me die will you? I don't want to be alone, stay with me. I'm scared. Help me …"
"NO!" Crichton screamed, flinging his arms out as if to ward off this apparition, this unspeakable intrusion.
The dream, that same dream again.
He struggled to free himself from the tangle of covers. He sat up, soaked in sweat, his chest aching.
The dream, that same dream again.
Ever since that Scarran, Grath, had Frelled with his mind he'd been having this dream at least twice a week. When he had got back to the surface of the Commerce Planet and met up with the others he had glossed over what had happened. It hadn't been mentioned since. They had no idea of the full extent of his ordeal. They also had no idea of the mental anguish it had caused him then, and continued to cause him now. When he was awake he could guard against it, but when he slept it crept up on him and invaded his mind, cruelly refusing to leave until he woke in tears, his throat sore from crying and his chest tight with grief.
He got up and showered, trying to cleanse the unwelcome thoughts from his brain along with the sweat from his body.
Afterwards he went back to his chamber, changed the sheets and lay down on the bed, hands behind his head, covers up to his waist. He thought of DK, his best friend back home on Earth. He was the only person who Crichton had ever confided in about his mother's death. He had been there through her illness and had gone through the experience with the rest of the family. Crichton would have given anything to be able to pick up the 'phone and call him for a late night chat. He understood Crichton's guilt and the pain of her loss.
His thoughts were interrupted by some soft cat-like footsteps in Moya's corridor outside. He heard his chamber door open and in the doorway, silhouetted against the light from outside, was Chiana. She crept quietly to the edge of his bed and stood there, motionless, for several microts.
"What's up Pip?" He asked.
"Frell, I didn't mean to wake you. Sorry."
"It's okay, I wasn't asleep. I've been having some bad dreams." He admitted.
"Me too. I can't get back to sleep, that's why I came in here. Would it be okay if I…"
"Sure. Get in." He invited, pulling back the covers, glad of the distraction and the company.
Chiana climbed onto the bed next to Crichton. She lay down, careful to leave a space between their bodies.
"Well, I know I don't smell, cos I just had a shower, so why are you all the way over there?"
" I know that you all think I'm a Tralk, but I just wanted to be near someone. I…"
"You are not a Tralk! Well, maybe a bit of a Tralk, sometimes! Come here, silly"
Chiana moved over until she was lying right next to Crichton, their bodies touching. He put his hand on his chest.
"Come here."
Chiana put her head on his bare chest, and felt his hand ruffle her hair, before it came to rest on her hip. She put hers on top of it.
"That's better." He said.
She could feel the warmth of his skin; smell the aroma of Zhaan's homemade soap. She could also hear his heart beating, it's steady rhythm comforting and reassuring. She was not alone; there was nothing to be afraid of here. She felt safe and suddenly very tired. She pulled the covers up over them and kissed his chest.
"Night Crichton."
"Night Pip, sweet dreams, honey."
She sighed and put her arm across his waist. In sixty microts she was fast asleep. Soon afterwards Crichton was too.