Summary: Post-Icarus Abides, set sometime in the distant future (that would
be nine cycles to be exact). It's J/A, but not the happiest of stories. We
never forget our first love, and we can never live up to ourselves.
Author's Notes: A short, 300 words piece to add to the deluge of Post- 'Icarus Abides' fics. A slightly different take. May expand, soon as brain begins to function proper-like. *big dumb grin* Flowers Pretty. Reviews Nice.
With Best Intentions.
Sometimes, Aeryn made mistakes.
Like forgetting it wasn't this John who had begun to teach her to read his people's language. Like forgetting what he had told her, and what her John had told her. She forgot he hadn't been there all those arns they spent together, forgot he hadn't told her those stories, that he'd been here, on Moya, thinking of her, and him, together.
And, though she took some comfort in the times when he played along with her mistakes, it also felt like betrayal. It had felt like betrayal the first time she'd let him kiss her, and it had felt like betrayal the first time she'd let him make love to her. And it still felt like betrayal, even after nine cycles and two children and all the dreams they'd lived together.
Sometimes Aeryn made mistakes.
Like mentioning an anecdote from his childhood, and see the fleeting confusion in his eyes that said, 'I never told you that.' Or worse, the wistful look that said, 'I'd forgotten that.' He'd forgotten the things the other had told her, the stories she held so dear and close to her heart, that somehow kept him with her, even though he was gone.
Sometimes Aeryn made mistakes.
Staring out the windows of Moya for hours on end, and acting surprised when he appeared in the room, because she'd been remembering the one that was dead and had forgotten the one that was alive.
Sometimes, Aeryn made mistakes.
Like forgetting that it was a different John she had first loved so deeply than the one she loved now.
Sometimes Aeryn made mistakes.
Like pretending he was her John, when he wasn't.
Sometimes Aeryn made mistakes.
Like believing she could love another as deeply, just because they had once been the same person.
Fin.
9:46pm, 4th December 2001
© Alice Rickarby, 2001
Author's Notes: A short, 300 words piece to add to the deluge of Post- 'Icarus Abides' fics. A slightly different take. May expand, soon as brain begins to function proper-like. *big dumb grin* Flowers Pretty. Reviews Nice.
With Best Intentions.
Sometimes, Aeryn made mistakes.
Like forgetting it wasn't this John who had begun to teach her to read his people's language. Like forgetting what he had told her, and what her John had told her. She forgot he hadn't been there all those arns they spent together, forgot he hadn't told her those stories, that he'd been here, on Moya, thinking of her, and him, together.
And, though she took some comfort in the times when he played along with her mistakes, it also felt like betrayal. It had felt like betrayal the first time she'd let him kiss her, and it had felt like betrayal the first time she'd let him make love to her. And it still felt like betrayal, even after nine cycles and two children and all the dreams they'd lived together.
Sometimes Aeryn made mistakes.
Like mentioning an anecdote from his childhood, and see the fleeting confusion in his eyes that said, 'I never told you that.' Or worse, the wistful look that said, 'I'd forgotten that.' He'd forgotten the things the other had told her, the stories she held so dear and close to her heart, that somehow kept him with her, even though he was gone.
Sometimes Aeryn made mistakes.
Staring out the windows of Moya for hours on end, and acting surprised when he appeared in the room, because she'd been remembering the one that was dead and had forgotten the one that was alive.
Sometimes, Aeryn made mistakes.
Like forgetting that it was a different John she had first loved so deeply than the one she loved now.
Sometimes Aeryn made mistakes.
Like pretending he was her John, when he wasn't.
Sometimes Aeryn made mistakes.
Like believing she could love another as deeply, just because they had once been the same person.
Fin.
9:46pm, 4th December 2001
© Alice Rickarby, 2001