Title: Sublime Providence
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Post-PKW
Time Period: Moves around a bit, 16-22 years after the PKW ended.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with Farscape, except my imagination.
Authors Note: There is a lot of great Farscape fan-fiction out there, so thanks for giving this a look. Feedback, positive and negative, is greatly appreciated and taken with an open mind. A big thanks to Chaz for her insightful help during the BETA process.
8/9/07- I wanna thank new readers and old friends alike for sticking with this tale. I appreciate you taking the time to read our story, because it's as much yours as it will ever be mine.
Chapter 1: Epiphanies and Soup Ladles
D'Argo braced himself for the next tremor, biting down hard on the bloody cloth in his mouth. It tasted sour and metallic, but it was the only thing that kept him from biting off his tongue. It hit him again with more force than the last. His spine arched as the blood flowed from his nose and ears. His vision blurred from the blood seeping out of his tear ducts. It like his mind was being carved from the inside out. Sharp needle-like pain accompanied the horrific sensation of his mind being squeezed like a fruit. Over the anguish he could hear her screaming for him; the longing and terror in her voice made him focus.
Amber Lind was crouched a safe distance away, in case D'Argo became violent. The only thing worse than the agony he felt was that it might inadvertently hurt her. He focused on her voice, reminding him that the pain would pass. His back felt like it was about to snap in half, then as quickly as it took him, the pain dissipated. His flaccid body collapsed back to the thin mat, the only thing separating him from the cold metal floor of the cargo bay. She rushed back to him, trying to clean the blood from his face as best she could. He gave her a weak and exhausted smile.
"What can you possibly be smiling about," she said through fear-gritted teeth and discerning eyes.
"Just glad to have a reminder I'm not in hell," he said, raising an exhausted arm up to draw his finger across her flushed cheek. Even in the dimly-lit cargo hold, surrounded by rusting metal and grimy walls, she looked radiant. Her amber eyes caught the dim light and D'Argo held onto them as if they were the only thing keeping him from falling deeper into the abyss.
She felt like screaming, crying, running or all three at that same time; anything but smiling. But she loved him; she loved him so much that the word itself had no meaning anymore. They had been in each other's lives for many cycles growing up, but the last two especially, since they left Molina, had brought them together. They had become a single entity, an amalgam of souls. Because of this, she forced a smile to her lips and continued to clean him up. This tremor had been the worst yet.
That tralk of a Peacekeeper said it was going to get worse before it gets better, but if gets much worse he won't survive, she thought as her brow creased with worry.
He read the concern in her face. "Don't worry, baby, the buzzing is almost gone."
"I don't know if you can survive another tremor."
"I have to." The familiar wry grin was forming on his lips.
"And why is that?" she asked, unable to resist the bait.
"Because we haven't lived happily ever after yet," he said sincerely. Unfortunately, his sentiment was lost in the oppressive weight of their condition. Never would their lives be simple again, never would they be people whose worries would come and go like the breeze. Never again would they be those teenagers on Molina, fighting to outgrow their own lives.
The sun hung low on the horizon, its pink and violet shades slowly giving way to the night. D'Argo sat on the hood of his 'Deuce Coup', as his father liked to call it, dreading the eventuality of what was coming. Slowly at first, the pinpoints of light started to break through the colors of the setting sky. Their luminosity, at first dull, became more and more brilliant until the backdrop was no longer deep colors, but endless black. The millions of glimmering stars stared at him, mocking him.
Longing stole into his very soul; to join them in the heavens and embrace their sheer wonder. He used to love watching the stars, hearing his father speak of constellations that only he and his mother knew of and the stories they told him. Now, he looked not with awe but deep resentment. Over the last few weekens the craving to reach them had become stronger and stronger. He at first attributed it to the same thing his parents did. Youth, and the need to be independent, but sitting here tonight, he knew there was something more to it. It was as if there was a part of him that simply refused to stay on this planet any longer.
"Pretty, huh?" the familiar voice from behind him said.
D'Argo was not surprised that he'd come, but he wasn't sure of his intention. Was this going to be a lecture or an apology?
"Not as pretty as the show you and Mom put on tonight. Do you two practice making my life miserable?" D'Argo said, deciding to take the offensive.
"Hey, it's not our fault. That guy is scumball and you know it." John's arms opened wide with the obvious.
This evening had been the culmination of three cycles of behind-the-back comments and not-so-subtle jabs between the Crichtons and Lind's father, Wellik Thanos. He was the Justice Prefect and he didn't like anything that was not Sebacean to be in his presence, much less date his daughter. As for D'Argo's parents, they were not well known for keeping their tongues in check.
The highlight of the disastrous dinner had come when Prefect Thanos called Aeryn an "inter-species tralk" and John referred to one of the most powerful leaders in the city as something called a "douche bag". Of course, nothing could compare to his mother taking out the Prefect's entire personal guard with, of all things, a soup ladle.
"You're right, Dad, he is a scumball. He belittles me every chance he gets," D'Argo said, climbing down from the hood and walking to meet his father. "But you know what? I endure it. Day in and day out, because I love her!"
He saw the familiar look grow across his father's face.
"Don't you frelling say it!" D'Argo interjected before he could tell him, "You're too young to know what love is," for the umpteenth time.
"D'Argo, listen to me, son, I know you're upset about how it went down tonight. But that's not the only thing bothering you, is it? You've been on edge for the past few weekens. What has got you so wrung up?" John took pride in the fact he could read his son. Partly because his own father had had so much trouble reading him as he grew up, and partly because it was like looking into a mirror.
"I just feel closed in and like my legs have been cut out from underneath me," D'Argo spoke solemnly. "I've got to go up there, Dad, at least once. It's driving me...bananas," he said, knowing that using Earth terms often got his father to soften up. It was a trick his mother had taught him and he used it often.
"Nice try," John replied with a grin. "But we have been over this. It is too dangerous for you to go offworld…"
"And why is that, Dad?" his eyes daring him.
John was not sure if his son was ready to hear this again.
"Just frelling say it! I'm a freak!" D'Argo shouted, breaking the silence that stretched between them.
"You are not a freak, just..." John struggled for the right words. "Special? Different? Unique?"
"No, Dad. Having a human father would make someone special. Having a Luxan name, when you are obviously not Luxan, would make someone different. Being an entirely new species in the universe, would make someone unique. But all at the same time? That makes me a freak, Dad." There was no anger in his voice anymore, perhaps the clearest indication that this had been brewing for awhile.
The tears were welling up now and his face contorted with rage, but also guilt. He saw the hurt in his father's eyes and that made him feel worse. Most fathers would simply walk away or recite platitudes, but John merely walked over and embraced his son.
"You graduate next scholastic cycle. We'll talk then."
The fire blazed in front of them, like it was fueled by their urge for freedom and independence. The scene around them was the type of chaos that youth thrived in;close to a hundred young men and women, drinking fellip nectar and partying as if the sun itself would never rise again. The mood was celebratory and defiant. They had graduated that afternoon and endured the customary family dinners, and now they met to drown themselves in their own glory.
D'Argo stared at the fire, with a passed-out Lind on his lap, both their minds swimming in the alcoholic nectar. Across from them sat Relex Staaf, a bottle of raslak in one hand and a cute blonde in the other. He seemed to be having great trouble deciding on which one to taste, so he alternated. He had a slim but muscular build that made him very popular with females. However, it was the gleam in his eye that always seemed to lead him and D'Argo into trouble. His father was the most prominent lawyer in the city, so they typically escaped the usual penalty for their 'transgressions'.
To their left sat Goll Wethern, skinny and pale and seemingly uncomfortable in his own body. When D'Argo's father had first met him, he'd struggled to hold back the laughter that wanted to jump out. Later that night, when D'Argo asked him what was so funny, he said through a grin, "I cannot believe you're hanging out with Anthony Michael Hall."
After he explained the reference and the characters the actor usually portrayed, D'Argo himself could not help but laugh at how similar they were.
"This is it, brother! We are free," Relex said expansively to D'Argo. His father had instilled in him since birth that only family could be trusted and that all those who were not blood were strangers. So, almost as if to appease his own conscience, he had been calling D'Argo "brother" for cycles now, as if to justify the trust he put in his best friend.
"Free to do what?" D'Argo asked, taking the bottle from his hand while being careful not to drop Lind. "You're going to start your apprenticeship downtown at the law office," after taking a swig he pointed the bottle at Goll. "You're going to start yours at the spaceport, my girl here is going to become Daddy's little secretary, and I'll start at my Dad's shop. Make no mistake, my friends, school may be over but we are a long way from being free," D'Argo said somberly, taking yet another draw from the bottle
"Oh, not this again," Goll said, rolling his eyes. "Face facts, D, your Dad runs the coolest mod garage in the city, you have a Prefect's daughter as a girlfriend, and your Mom, in case you haven't noticed, is hot!"
This, of course, prompted the same response it always did when one of his friends commented on his mother's beauty. Mock anger and a sharp punch in the arm.
"He's got a point, brother," Relex said. D'Argo cut his eyes towards him. "About the situation, I mean. It could be a lot worse."
"Don't you guys ever feel like there's something more out there? That the universe itself was calling out to you?" D'Argo said, almost pleading.
Both Relex and Goll recognized the look in their friend's eye, and neither welcomed it.
"Why don't you go grab another bottle of raslak, sweetie," Relex said, moving the girl off him. She left in a huff. "What are you getting at, D?"
"I say we plan a little trip." D'Argo said as innocently as possible.
"Oh, frell," Goll said, as that feeling he got in the pit of his stomach when they were about to do something stupid returned.
D'Argo had been thinking about this for the last few days and had been waiting for the right time to spring it on them. Now was as good as any.
"We have like eight weekens before our apprenticeships start, right?"
"Right..." Relex and Goll drawled in unison.
"Well, I say instead of staying here and getting drunk and goofing off, we seize the opportunity and get off this frelling rock!"
"And go where?" Goll asked.
"Frell, anywhere! We hop on the first flight that strikes us and we just...I dunno, explore."
"You forgotten about the bio-mod scanners, D?" Relex inquired, raising an eyebrow.
The main reason D'Argo had not simply left on a whim before was that any passenger boarding a ship had to pass through a bio-scanner. This device detected if a passenger was carrying any contagion or other chemical or biological agent that was considered unsafe. The problem was that it also detected what species the passenger was.
While the war may have been over, D'Argo knew that there were a lot of people in the galaxy that would like to get their hands on John Crichton's son. Walking through that scanner would immediately launch a red flag that would resonate further than just the planet of Molina. D'Argo's true identity was a secret that only the people sitting around the fire and a few select governing leaders knew. Regrettably, Lind's prejudiced father being one of them.
"Well, that's where I'm hoping Goll can give us a hand."
At the mention of his name, he went a few shades paler.
"Ohhh, no," he said standing up. He could read in his face exactly what D'Argo wanted him to do. Goll had been helping his father install the new security system fail safes for the past few weekens and in doing so he had become intimately familiar with their inner workings. The bio-scanners included.
"C'mon, Goll," Relex said, also seeing D'Argo's intention. "You go in there, this wire goes here, that wire goes there and poof. D here is a purebred Sebacean."
"No, no, no," Goll exclaimed, now pacing and waving his arms. "Besides, I would have to be at the console when he went through the scanner to make the change and they don't let anyone near those things during check-in."
"You could go in after hours and program it to do it automatically when it senses D'Argo's unique biological structure," Lind interjected, apparently not as drunk, nor as passed out for that matter, as she had appeared.
"She's right," Relex affirmed, unable to suppress the grin. He sensed adventure, opportunity and most of all, that it would piss off his father.
"I don't know guys…"
"Oh, grow some mivonks! This will be the best time of your life!" Relex said, slapping his timid friend on the back as if to knock the uncertainty out of him.
Relex entered the bay when D'Argo's screaming abated. He wanted to be there for his friend, but he was glad someone had to be a look-out. He wasn't sure he could handle seeing D'Argo be tortured by his own mind. Again.
"Hallway is clear," Relex reported, helping Lind clean the blood up.
"Well, aren't I the lucky one?" D'Argo said, leaning forward. The spikes that had formed in his mind were replaced by dizziness and the worst headache yet.
"C'mon, let's get you back to your quarters and cleaned up. We should be landing in a few arns."
Relex and Lind helped him to his feet. D'Argo took one step and his knees buckled. As always, before he could hit the ground, Relex caught him.
"Usually when I do this, you've had too much to drink."
"Don't worry, brother, when this is all said and done, I plan on getting really, really drunk."
"What do we say if someone sees him?" Lind asked as they entered the hallway. D'Argo looked like he'd just gone a few rounds with a face-punching machine.
"We'll just tell them I hit him," Relex said sardonically.
"Ha, you wish you could take me," D'Argo said, reflexively wincing from the pain laughing caused him.
"Well, it seems someone doesn't remember our 6th scholastic cycle on the recreation grounds."
"You hit me when I wasn't looking, as I recall," D'Argo said dryly.
"Teach you to steal my dessert at lunch." Relex said cuttingly.
They all laughed at that, but the moment of levity was all-too-brief.
"You sure this is a good idea?" Relex asked, his tone hinting at the uneasy feeling in his gut.
"No, I don't. But she is the only person out there who seems to know what is going on inside my head."
"What about your father?" Lind asked. "Doesn't he at least have a right to know that she exists?"
She didn't like the fact that D'Argo was keeping his parents in the dark about all this. D'Argo had insisted that they should not try and contact their families back on Molina since they had discovered they were being hunted. That was almost two cycles ago.
She wondered what her father was doing, if he was out looking for her or if he had simply stopped caring. She knew D'Argo often thought of his parents but there had been little time to reflect lately.
"Of course he does and I'll tell him when we get back."
If we get back, they all thought, but were too daunted to say.