Wormhole
You can't sleep.
Your other self, the clone, is with Aeryn. Along with a madman, an overgrown slug, and another madman who happens to have been your worst enemy up until Madman No. 3 turned up in the galaxy (a.k.a. Scorpius). While on this ship, you're with a psycho who wants any excuse to get his son issues off his overgrown chest, a princess who wouldn't survive a day without you, a slut who's quite content with that status quo, and a control freak who happens to have the ability to space you anytime he wants.
And you can't sleep. A wormhole could appear.
A wormhole could set you free. A wormhole could take you home. A wormhole could mean Zhan didn't die for nothing. That you, the real John Crichton, could go back to Earth. Be among real people. Eat real food. See the stars as they're meant to be seen.
You can't sleep. Groaning, you look at the star chart you've started to make. You used to have one of your own, but the other you took it. You slam the book shut when you see the star at the centre of the map. A blue star. The one called Aeryn.
You want to hate her. You want to hate them all. You want it to end. But you can't. You've seen too much, and done too much, to hate any of them. Even the other you, the one who is not the real John Crichton, but understandably wants to be. Who understandably wants to be on the ship that has the woman you…well…y'know…
You can't sleep. So you head up on the bridge, seeing the sea of stars drift in place. You know that a wormhole is out there somewhere. You know that it's the one thing that's keeping you sane. The notion that you can go home. The notion that you're not losing it. To escape from the uneasy glances of D'Argo and Chiana, or Pilot's snide comments. To escape from the fear, the deep, inescapable fear, that you're not the real John Crichton, and that your friends know it. That the real John Crichton is with the most real person you've ever known. That the real John Crichton wouldn't worry about wormholes, because the real John Crichton wouldn't think twice about abandoning his friends.
You lay down against a control console, staring out into the void – reflection of how you feel inside. You rub your eyes – tears, lack of sleep-
Go to sleep John.
You blink – Harvey. He's in your head. It's as if he's always been in your head.
You need rest.
And you want to sleep. But you can't. You can't give the hazmot what he wants. You can't sleep when you're drowning in fear. You can't sleep knowing that a wormhole could form any second.
Fine. See if I care.
You lay down against the console and close your eyes. You think of Earth – its blue sky, its green hills, of friends and family. You think of those on this ship, and those on Talyn. You think of Scorpius, and how he wants what's inside your head. You think of the scarrens, and how they want the same thing. You think of tavleks, and sheyang, of everything and anything that you've seen.
Only then do you go to sleep. And it's how your friends find you.
And it's how you wake up. Caught up in the nightmare.
Still searching for that wormhole.