Lost and Found: Chapter 2

Thanks everyone for feedback, with special thanks to Ixchup and LyraStorm: It is all (I hope) helping me to produce a slightly better story going forwards, if not in this chapter, then in a future one.

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Earth. Terra Firma. Seems like forever it's filled his thoughts and been his goal. And now: He's here, and he has said he wants to stay. So where does that leave me? He once said he'd never leave me, that I'd never be alone - I think I might have forfeited the right to that promise a cycle ago when I left him to try to forget him – to try to forget the pain of losing the other John.

For so long Earth has filled his dreams. And filled my nightmares. And, although my worst nightmare of all, that his people might put me in a cage, experiment on me, or murder me, now seems to have been a figment of his imagination, how can I strand myself here, on this primitive planet? Strand myself amongst strangers with a man who now seems to see me, despite what his family and Caroline have told me, as barely a shipmate, as less than a friend? If I choose to stay, I'll likely be stuck here for ever. At best I will be 'the alien', little more than an exhibit. And perhaps I will even have to endure all this without having John? To be alone on this planet, always reminded of what I could not have. But if I choose to leave, on Moya, then surely that will be the end for all my hopes for us, for the baby?

Time is not my friend: I must choose now, and I must live with that choice. I am a soldier, I am used to making choices and living with consequences, no matter what. There is a coin on the table beside my comms badge: Should I put myself in the hands of Fate once again? Toss the coin......?

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D'Argo paced around the command of Moya. He was growing increasingly irritated with Crichton's delay in returning to Moya, or even in speaking to his shipmates. It had been several arns since the Skreeth attack, whilst the time until the wormhole reached optimum stability was fast draining away. He knew that John knew that Moya was scared of wormholes: She deserved to make this trip at the best possible moment yet, as so often before, John was being selfish. D'Argo snarled angrily in frustration and slammed his hands down onto a control panel, causing a DRD to scurry from command.

'Captain?' Pilot's calm voice came over the clamshell.

'Yes,' snapped D'Argo.

'I have Commander Crichton for you on the comm…'

'D'Argo…' began John.

'John, when are you going to get up here?' D'Argo barked, gripping the command console firmly with both hands and staring ahead, through the view portal, at the small blue-green planet which had caused them all so much trouble.

'Umm… I'm not, my friend. Not coming back.' D'Argo snarled and shouted in disbelief, most of his words not processed by the translator microbes, before subsiding enough for John to continue.

'This… is Earth…. home: The thing I've been looking for for four years.'

'One of the things,' D'Argo reminded him. John refused to be drawn for now on the subject of any of those other things.

'I understand that. But they need me here, now to help them prepare, to help me protect themselves from the lions and the tigers and the Scarrans and all. All the bad things out there. They need someone who can help them prepare, and to remind them why they have to prepare.'

'They've got enough time and advice already. Maybe you don't need to stay.' It was a statement more than a question.

'Maybe, maybe not. But, if I leave now, I may never get another chance to come back to Earth. I love you guys, you're my family, but this is my planet… my people.'

'And Aeryn?' D'Argo asked. Further words were not needed to explain what he meant by that remark.

'From where I stand, there's been nothing between us for two cycles. And there's never really been that much, not ever. Not for this John Crichton, anyhow.'

'She loves you, my friend…'

'That's not enough, and I don't have to tell you why. I have, as Rygel once advised me, taken the hint. I have to be realistic, do what I have to do: She can do what she wants, like she always does.'

D'Argo sighed. He knew exactly what John was talking about: Had he not himself advised John to be careful about giving his heart to Aeryn once again? 'If you are going to do this, then you at least ought to try to make peace with her. This is no way for you two to end things.'

Crichton snorted: 'Ball's been in her court for cycles now. It's up to her,' he replied bluntly. 'Besides, she's safer without me: It's me that everyone in the UTs wants a piece of, and without me around, there'll be no-one gunning for her in order to get to me.'

D'Argo could see some sense in what his friend was saying, but still, he wasn't happy: 'Oh, my friend, I hope you know what you're doing?'

'I do, I've been thinking it through ever since we got here: My people get me to help them prepare and I'll be free of Scorpius, Grayza and all the rest of them. If Aeryn stays, then she's free of them all too: If she goes, she's free of everyone chasing after her to get to me. Either way, everyone wins.'

'You should have said something earlier.'

'What difference would it make? Look, you just need to follow Scorpy's signal through to the other side of the wormhole, that'll get you back to the Uts. You don't need me for that.' D'Argo sighed in resignation. John's mind seemed made up, and he couldn't really say he blamed him. Both he and Rygel had been advising John against revisiting old, lost causes with Aeryn for long enough. 'Hey, don't tell Scorpy that I'm not coming. Without me, and with no beacon to follow back here, anyone that comes down the wormhole looking for me could end up anywhere, but most likely not here. Earth'll be safe as houses.'

'You know Scorpius, you know he wont give up?' Asked D'Argo, ignoring the incomprehensible Earth-saying. 'You know how obsessed he is with you, with wormholes? He won't just let you go…'

'He'll have no choice: He's got no power with the Peacekeepers anymore, or with anyone else. What can he do, with me here and him over there, with the PKs and the Scarrans both chasing his arse?'

D'Argo shook his head and took a deep breath out. Earth. That, and, until recently, Aeryn, was what his friend had been striving to have for these last three and a half years. It hurt, but he could not deny his friend this chance to go home. 'I'm going to miss you… '

'And me you. And Chi and Pilot, and even Sparky. You let them all know that.' There was a long silence. 'Look, I have to go now, Holt's people want to talk. we've got lots of details to sort out.'

'I'll call you again before we go…'

'You do that, but get Pilot to check the comms are secure first, Scorpy might be monitoring them. And remember: Don't let him know I plan on staying until you're through the wormhole, or there's no knowing what he'll do.'

John's comm snapped off, but D'Argo did not mind as he now urgently needed to speak to Aeryn.

It was Aeryn's third visit to John at the clinic. Or the third visit of the apparition of Aeryn, John still hadn't entirely decided which. Mostly, they had just sat together in silence. She had never been a big conversationalist, and now he wasn't either. She had told him a little, in short, painful bursts, about how she had been treated over the years and what her captors had done to her. With each little tale of terror, pain, indignity or just plain boredom, John had found a few more words to say in reply.

In many ways her stories seemed to affect him more than they did her: She had clearly been ground down by all that had been done to her, but she had not been broken, not in the way he had been over the intervening cycles. Even after all these years, it never ceased to amaze John as to how strong she was.

In his reflection in the window, John could see a tear running down his cheek, much like the rain running on the window… and much like the tear from Aeryn that fateful Christmas eve at his father's house, before the Skreeth had attacked. She never used to cry, not before she had come back from the assassins.…. Come back to see him one last time before dying. And then he had rejected her. What must she have been through in her time away from Moya, amongst the assassins, to have changed so much? She had never told him, and that had been part of their problem, all those cycles ago. At least, it had been to start with, before his need to protect her and the baby had started to supplant his anger. But beyond even that, what had he caused her to go through these last few years? He was starting to find out, and it made him feel ashamed and guilty that he had in part caused it to happen. So far, wht she had told him was bad, but not as bad as his worst fears had been. After all, she was here, alive and apparently in reasonable health. That was, if she was real at all, of course. He still could not entirely accept that possibility.

John hardly noticed that, as the days went on his thoughts and emotions were more and more for someone other than himself.

The most surprising thing, to John, was how little actual physical harm had come to Aeryn. It seemed that someone had been protecting her from those who would have, for instance, dissected her, or done even worse. Even more surprisingly, that protector seemed to have been Holt. John was not surprised to learn that Holt was involved in Aeryn's kidnap and imprisonment: He seemed to have been in charge of all of the dealings with the Moyans, so he would have been perfectly placed to be Aeryn's chief abductor. Aeryn speculated to John that, at first Holt had protected her simply because she was worth more to him alive than dead, but that later, other considerations had grown in importance. Seven years was a long time not to feel any empathy for another person, no matter how little he had felt to start with.

Aeryn was no longer talking about her imprisonment: 'They want you for something, John, and they need you, if not sane, at least functional.' John nodded, not wanting to interrupt her. She might just have been a figment of his imagination, but it was good to hear her voice, to see her again. He sat silently and drunk her in.

'Something has been happening for the last few weeks, I think it is connected with what they want you for.' Again, John remained silent. Aeryn took a deep breath and continued with, what, for her, constituted a major speech. 'I don't know what it is, but for nearly a cycle they have been bored with me and have asked hardly anything of me. Then, three weeks ago, they started again. Interrogating me all day, every day, asking me all sorts of things about Peacekeepers and Scarrans. And about you.'

'What have Scarrans or Peacekeepers got to do with me now?' John asked.

Aeryn smiled, ever so slightly. He speaks! For the first time in about quarter of an arn! She shrugged. 'Beyond the obvious, back when we were in the UTs? I don't know. But suppose I'm wrong? Maybe there is nothing going on. Does it matter? Come on, John, Fate has offered us something here. We have to seize it.' She reached over and clasped one of his hands in hers, a rare moment of physical contact in her visits. A shiver of pleasure ran down his spine at her cool touch, although it was tempered by realising that he could not remember the last time she had reached out to hold his hand.

'You have a chance, not me. It's been Game Over for me for years,' John said, slipping back into his shell slightly.

Aeryn frowned, looking almost angry. 'You have to beat this. Frell, you must have beaten every other sort of madness you humans can get. I know you are strong enough.' He looked unconvinced. She decided to try to convince him. 'It's only when you've been crazy that you've ever been strong enough to beat me in a fight…. Do you remember that time when Traaltix came aboard Moya? Or that time in the neural cluster?'

He nodded, but surprised her with his reply. 'You always came back from losing those fights, though, Aeryn. That's why I find it hard to believe they could keep you a prisoner for so long. Security isn't that tight here in the clinic. You could run now… if you were real.' John replied, his doubts about her reality leaching out of his mouth.

Aeryn looked pained at his words. She shuddered. After a long pause to compose herself, she replied. 'Where would I run to? I can't get off this frelling planet. Once Moya left, there wasn't anywhere for me to go, even if I found a way to get into space. And who here would help me, who could help me? Besides, they were very careful with me, far more so than your imagination made Cobb and the others on the False Earth.'

She was silent for another minute or two, and when it was clear he wasn't about to say anything, she continued. 'To start with, I tried, I thought about escaping every arn that I was awake, but there was never much hope.'

'Just run now, go to ground. I reckon the guards here couldn't stop you,' whispered John.

'I can't run, not now,' a rare tear had appeared on her right cheek. 'They know I won't. You see, a cycle and a half ago they found a perfect way to control me.'

'Aeryn?' D'Argo called into the comm. There was a silence, slightly longer than normal: Aeryn was doubtless pre-occupied, mused D'Argo. Perhaps John had spoken to her, shared his plans?

'D'Argo?' came the eventual reply, struggling to be heard over the sound of several humans speaking loudly and animatedly.

'Is everything alright? What's all the noise?'

'Sorry, D'Argo. Look, I can't speak for long: John's just told me he is staying on Earth....' Her voice sounded blank, even for her, and even over the background babble of the humans.

'I know… he told me about half an arn ago. I'm sorry.' D'Argo paused, and when Aeryn didn't fill his pause, he continued. 'Aeryn, you need to get up here now - we need to leave before the wormhole destabilises.' He was certain she would not stay on Earth: John was clearly not going to have her back, and, without that, why would she stay?

'I'm…. I'm not going. I'm staying here with John.' At the back of his mind, D'Argo realised that she seemed to be speaking English not Sebacean. He dismissed the detail as unimportant. She had been speaking English so much in the last few months in her futile attempts to win John back. 'I really think we can sort things out, get back together. We just need time.'

'Oh, Aeryn, my friend, are you sure that is wise…?' D'Argo shook his head, even though he knew she could not see him. 'I know how things have been between you two this last cycle and a half. I fear you'd be staying for nothing.'

'I have to stay…. I have my reasons. I… I can't talk about it right now. Everything will be fine,' She replied hurriedly, clearly not wanting to have a long conversation. Probably, thought D'Argo, because she didn't want to confront the truth that was so obvious to him.

'We'll talk again before we leave.' D'Argo whispered sadly. 'Be safe, Aeryn,'

'Goodbye, D'Argo.'

The female agent switched off Aeryn's comm badge, then the background tape of people talking, and turned to Holt with a nod and a smile.

'What now, sir,' she said with a grin, in a near -perfect imitation of Officer Sun's English speaking voice, before switching back to her own accent. 'I think he swallowed it.' Holt smiled smugly in reply. In a little less than 24 hours, it seemed he had secured the alien woman and her starfighter, he had John's module and he had John. And all those who might cause him any trouble were completely ignorant. It had been his best Christmas ever.

Aeryn awoke feeling like dren: 'Frell!' she muttered. She remembered the food and drink they had brought her, because it was the middle of the night and they were concerned about her, so they had said. They must have drugged it. Frell! She propped herself up on her elbows and looked around, warily. She was in a containment room, not too dissimilar from the one on the false Earth. Frell! They had tricked her, drugged her and now they were holding her prisoner. She seethed in anger at the humans, but also at herself for letting down her guard in her anger and confusion over John. She did not move or show any other outward sign of response as Holt and a small group people who she took to be agents and scientists appeared at the window to her cell.

'Officer Sun,' Holt began amiably. She wanted to rip his head off and spit down his neck. After a short period staring at him, she swung herself out of the cot on which she had been laying, marched up to the window, but then was forced to brace herself against the wall with one arm as her vision and balance swirled. 'I'm glad to see you're awake. No long term ill affects, I hope?'

'As if you care, you tch-waaark!' she snarled, reaching the limits of both her English and the translator microbes to describe what she wanted to say, desperately trying not to show the depths of how physically unsteady she felt.

'But of course I care, we all do.' Holt gestured to his knot of companions. 'Your continued well-being is immensely important to us, Officer Sun' replied Holt smoothly.

She unleashed a stream of invective at him in Sebacean, incomprehensible to the watching humans, despite their translator microbes. Yet Holt smiled back at her. It was a smug, victorious smile, and she hated him all the more so for it. 'We will have to work on your English vocabulary, though,' he commented dryly.

'Where are the others? Have you hurt any of them?' she demanded.

'Oh no, you misunderstand, Officer Sun: It's only you who we have as our guest here.'

'You can't expect to get away with this,' pleaded Aeryn, unconvinced by her own words. 'My shipmates won't……' her voice trailed off as Holt gave a sly smile.

'I'm sure you've worked out that your friends don't realise where you are: John thinks you left with the others, whilst our telemetary indicates Moya entered the wormhole three hours ago: You see your shipmates on Moya think you stayed here voluntarily, to be with John,' Holt replied, almost jovially. 'I had my doubts that they would believe that, as the two of you have spent so little time together here on Earth. But John seems to have no doubts that you left with your friends.'

Aeryn said nothing. She decided wasn't going to give this fekkik the pleasure, besides, what was there to say to that?

'Agent Smith here does a very convincing imitation of you,' Holt added, indicating a female accomplice in his group.

'Good afternoon, Officer Sun,' confirmed the woman behind Holt, in what sounded like Aeryn's voice.

After a few moments to digest his revelations, Aeryn swallowed and asked the question that she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer to.

'What is it you want, Holt? Why did you do this? When have I not voluntarily told you or your people what you want?'

'We want you to help us, Officer Sun, in all sorts of ways. We want you to keep helping us, and you were about to leave, which would have ended that arrangement. And besides, there were things we could not ask of you under our previous arrangements. Now, well, we can explore new avenues.' Aeryn did not reply, but rather just stared at him blankly, not showing any emotion. Holt, finding Aeryn's lack of response unsettling, continued slightly less threateningly, 'You'll find we're not unreasonable or cruel: You give us what we want, and we can make your life quite comfortable. On the other hand…..'

Aeryn's composure broke at last, and she screamed in anger and punched the armoured window, so hard that she wondered if she might have broken a bone in her hand. She derived small satisfaction that a couple of the humans had seemed scared at her outburst, but she knew that, if she had hurt herself, it was too large a price to pay. She would need to keep herself calm if she was to escape this nightmare. At least he had not talked explicitly about cutting her open or experimenting on her. Yet. Then thoughts of Cobb and the False Earth rushed into her mind, combining with Holt's earlier words about 'exploring new avenues', and she slumped to the floor, feeling suddenly sick with fear.

John waited for Aeryn to continue with her story. But she seemed more than a little reluctant to do so. She had opened and closed her mouth a few times then her face had gone completely blank. It reminded him a little of the time, so many cycles ago, when they had been together in Moya's command and he had confronted her about the pregnancy. Then she had not known what to say or how to say it. Hell, if someone was frelling with his head, or even if he was himself just imagining her now, it was a clear, ready-made memory to plunder. Yeah, perhaps she wasn't real, then: Time to push a little, he decided.

'Oh yeah, and what would this perfect way of controlling the kick-ass, I-take-no-prisoners, PK-commando Officer Aeryn Sun be, then?' he couldn't help himself sneering, but as soon as he had spoken, he wished that he had not. If she was real, then she had already suffered so much on his account - what sort of man had he become to add to her obvious suffering with such hurtful words?

Aeryn went pale and looked down at her hands, which, John noticed, she was now wringing and clenching together. After a short while she lifted her head and looked him in the eye.

'They worked out how to release the pregnancy,' she whispered, still wringing her hands in her lap. 'John, we have a son.'