A/N: First Farscape piece. Set mid season 4.
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Luxans had it easy. They could beat themselves back to health. If only emotions were so simple. If only HER emotions were so simple. It would take far more than a few select punches to cleanse the black cloud infecting her soul.
Times like these were when she longed for the safety of platoons and units most of all. Everything was so simple back then, so impersonal. Love was forbidden, and something she had been more than happy to live without.
If it weren't for this damn Leviathan and everyone onboard her, she'd still be happy in her ignorance.
Instead she had to go and fall in love. Not knowing that it could hurt so much. So why did she keep rushing back? Even after Crichton had died once, in her arms no less, she had returned into the miasma. Aeryn couldn't help but wonder who would put themselves in such a painful position, and why was she one of them?
But now he rebuffed her, with a curt, "Get your story straight."
The man who was always the first to forgive had thrown her to the wind. It would have been less painful if he had used his trusty Wynona to put a hole right through her chest. Likely less severe, too. And, loathe as she was to admit it, he was right. One excuse after another. First, why she didn't tell him about the pregnancy to start with, and then her excuses about the fact that it might not be his, either of him.
Contrary to logic, if it really was John's child, she knew that was what she feared the most. Because the heady need to be with him was already verging on overwhelming. To have something that was theirs, a child she would look at and see the both of them, it was frightening. It would be too real, too potent. She hid it because she knew he would be overjoyed, and she alone would be frantically wondering if she could handle such a prominent symbol of this... Love.
And there it was. Her story. Frustrating for the sheer simplicity of the answer.
Peace shrouded her as she stood, the 'blood' finally running clear.
