Chapter Four

When Vila awoke from the healing sleep a second time after the mission, he knew. Everything had changed and nothing would ever be right again.

Ticking off his problems in his head, he didn't even bother to open his eyes to survey his surroundings.

First, Blake and Cally and Gan were gone, leaving him with an arrogant Alpha pilot, a murderous gunslinger, a child, and…Avon.

Second, he was too well known to the Federation to ever blend into the general population again, no matter how far out he went.

Third, Avon was clearly psychotic, even if the others couldn't or wouldn't see it.

Fourth, every mission Avon led them on was more dangerous than the last. Sooner or later, he was going to get them all killed.

And fifth, this last mission had nearly gotten him killed, which, to Vila's way of thinking, would have been preferable to what he had to awake to now.

The raid was for crystals they need. It was supposed to be a quick in-and-out, but as usual something went wrong. While the old mine had looked deserted, it had in fact been occupied by hostile natives. In a vain attempt to escape their wrath, Soolin, Tarrant, and Vila had ducked into the mine shaft itself. Fire from the natives and the dilapidated condition of the shaft caused a cave-in that kept the natives out, but trapped Scorpio's crew inside. Automatically teleporting out, Soolin and Tarrant hadn't been aware that Vila was still trapped beneath the debris, with a broken teleport bracelet.

By the time they returned and dug Vila out, the damage was well and truly done. Not as sophisticated as Liberator, the Scorpio's medical unit was unable to remedy the concussion Vila suffered beneath the rockfall. ORAC could only suggest some rather severe and expensive surgery, not within reach at the moment. ORAC's only glimmer of hope was that the condition might gradually rectify itself.

Vila knew in his heart that he'd never get better. The aphasia that the concussion had caused resulted in his being unable to even hold a lockpick, let alone remember how to use one. He'd found he couldn't read, either. Learning of the diagnosis and prognosis had sent Vila into a screaming panic that only another dose of tranquilizer had been able to stop. As he lost consciousness, a small part of his mind saw Avon standing in the med unit's doorway, dark, unsmiling, calculating.

He was still pretending to be asleep, when he heard voices in the corridor.

Tarrant's voice, exasperated: "What good is he to us if he can't pick locks and open doors or help run the ship or the base? And don't tell me he can memorize the controls, either. Too many of the important ones have alphabetic readouts. He'd only get us all killed that way. Face it, Soolin. He's worse than useless; he's a danger and a liability to us now.

Soolin, trying to talk sense into Tarrant: "That doesn't mean he's useless, does it? There must be something he can do. Think, Tarrant."

Tarrant, sounding disgusted: "Yeah, get drunk and stay that way. I wouldn't even trust him with the food processing. We'd all be poisoned!"

Soolin: "What does Avon say?"

Tarrant, bitterness fairly oozing from his voice: "As usual, nothing. He's not dealing with the problem, so maybe it'll go away. He's shut away with ORAC, probably planning our next suicide mission!"

Upset and hurting though Vila was, he had to agree with the young pilot on that point. Maybe he wouldn't have to be this useless for long. Maybe he'd get killed sooner than later, and spare them all his presence and uselessness.

Groaning softly to himself, Vila rolled onto his side and curled up into a small, miserable ball, the tears leaking from his eyes soaking the thin pillow.

***

It had been a few days since Dayna had released Vila from the medical unit. None of the others had even suggested what Vila should do with himself, so he tried to keep out of their way as much as possible. On Xenon Base there were more hidey holes than even Vila had yet found.

And he used them all. The others scarcely knew he was around. Even Avon seldom spied more than his retreating back.

In his hiding places, Vila sat and thought.

He remembered his past, both before and after meeting Avon on that bridge. He recalled his prison years, what he'd learned and what had happened to Avon without him. He examined their years on the Liberator and now on the Scorpio and Xenon Base.

He called up the faces of people he'd known and loved. Blake, who had usurped Vila's place in Avon's bed. Gan, the gentle giant who had been Vila's friend and protector. Cally, lovely, exotic, friendly Cally. Jenna, fiery, fierce, golden.

Lastly, he contemplated Kerr Avon. The boy he'd first met. The young man he'd fallen in love with. The criminal he'd followed even as Avon followed Blake. The madman he'd become without the stabilizing influences of Blake and Cally.

When all was said and done, he'd had quite a life.

But now, he determined, was the time to end it. He had nothing to live for and not even any way to take care of himself. Smiling wryly, he remembered telling Avon once that he couldn't even imagine living without family and friends. Well, now he could imagine it. Quite clearly. Now, he was living it.

Now, he made his way silently to Xenon's medical unit once more. At least I haven't forgotten how to move silently, he thought calmly, slipping into the thankfully empty medbay. It was a bit more advanced than Scorpio's, though it couldn't help his condition any.

At least it had a good store of medical drugs, bottle and vials and boxes of it. Using a stray piece of equipment, he broke through the glass door, cringing at both the noise and the fact that he was reduced to physically breaking into anywhere. No more clean picking of locks for him. Smash and break, that was him.

Grabbing all the drugs he could carry, he arrayed them across the examination table, coming face to face with an unexpected problem: how could he figure out which ones would be most effective in ending his life, when he couldn't read the labels? Considering a moment, he decided to take several of each, on the theory that whatever each did alone would be amplified when they all came together in his stomach.

He was contemplating his first handful when a voice startled him into dropped the whole mess.

"Hey, that's no way to go, Vila."

He whirled, to find Avon leaning, arms folded, against the open door.

"Go away, Avon, and leave me in peace!"

"Nope. I'll just stand here and wait."

Vila decided to ignore Avon. He tried to concentrate on accumulating another handful of drugs. Without looking up, he asked distractedly, "Wait for what?"

"For you to decide."

"For me to decide what?" These interruptions by Avon were becoming irritating.

"Whether this is really the way you want to end your life," came the reasonable answer.

"What do you care? What business is it of yours anyway? You don't care about anyone but yourself anymore, do you?" Vila refused to look up, but he'd stopped emptying bottles of pills, just standing there, arms braced on the table.

"I do care, Vila, even if I don't show it like I used to. You aren't alone.

"Look at me, Vila!" Avon commanded sharply.

Slowly, Vila turned to face his former lover, standing mutely staring at Avon.

The tech shoved off the door frame and carefully and cautiously moved into the room, fearful that he'd set Vila off again. He wanted in the worst way to touch Vila, to hold him, to reassure him, but feared to.

Holding himself rigidly still, almost nose to nose with Vila, he breathed softly, "Do you really…want to…die, Vila?" He waited, scarcely breathing. It was so quiet he felt Vila must surely be able to hear his heart beating wildly.

Vila stared back, no expression on his face to give Avon a clue of what was going on in his head. Then, Vila slowly wilted, coming to rest cross-legged on the floor. Avon followed him down, then drew him into his arms, resting the blond head on his shoulder as the slighter man broke down, wracked by gales of sobs.

Just as Avon thought he'd surely choke or asphyxiate himself, Vila began to quiet. Into the silence that followed, Avon whispered, "You okay, friend?"

"No, and I don't think I ever will be," came the muffled answer.

Hugging him tightly and rocking slightly, Avon said into his friend's hair, "I'll try to be here for you, Vila, like you did for me. And…I have an idea that might help you."

That got a reaction from Vila. Pushing away from Avon, he turned to focus on Avon's face.

"An idea?" he asked cautiously. Avon rejoiced inwardly to have gotten even a spark of hope out of Vila.

"First, I've been talking to ORAC."

With a grimace, Vila broke in, "What could that box of tarriel cells do to help me?"

"That 'box of tarriel cells' had a lot to say about your situation. According to his research, it's probable that you can be taught to read again and, with some physical training and time, your skill with lockpicks will come back too." Avon turned his head away from Vila, a tiny smile flirting with his lips. "I…just happen to know a…rusty lockpick who just might be persuaded to teach you what he remembers." When he ventured to look again at Vila, he found the beginnings of a smile on his lips.

Avon produced a small device from a picket. "This is something ORAC and I developed for the meantime, just until you…can read for yourself again." He handed it to Vila who turned it over and over in his hands, trying to decipher its use. It looked rather like an unfriendly shaver that had mated with a flashlight.

"You'll have to tell me what this is, ya know, Avon."

"It's a scanner that will read for you. It's…like your own private storyteller. Go ahead, try it."

Holding it gingerly, Vila got up and glance around for something to try it on. His eyes fell on the array of drugs and he flinched at what he'd almost done. Selecting one at random, he ran the scanner across its label…and almost dropped it as ORAC's voice intoned, *Aspirin. Useful for headaches and minor aches and pains. Dosage: Take two and consult a physician.*

Vila began to laugh. "Aspirin! I was trying to end it all with aspirin!" His laughter grew louder and more hysterical until Avon came up behind him and wrapped his arms around the thief.

"It's all right, Vila, really. I'm here. Soon…" he gulped, "soon, I hope, we'll be able to put this all behind us. I've…decided I have to find Blake. I have to give this whole damn rebellion back to him. It was never mine and I can't sustain it any longer."

Then he turned the quieter Vila within the circle of his arms.

"Vila, I promise, as soon as I can find Blake and return this damn cause to him, we'll go away somewhere together. Somewhere safe where we can be happy like we were before. Just the two of us."

Vila's arms gripped Avon's back as their lips met in a gentle kiss, a comfort, but from and to which man, neither could be sure.

Vila tried not to think, to just be, now that he was back in Avon's arms, but his mind, even impaired, would not be fooled.

Oh, Avon, he thought, I wish it were that simple. I'll try to believe in your fairy tale, as long as I can, and maybe that'll help you believe in it too, but I won't hold my breath. If you don't find Blake soon, the madness will overwhelm you and drag you and me and probably the others as well down the same deadly spiral you and I know so well. I hope I'm wrong, Avon. I really hope I'm wrong.

Silencing his traitorous mind, Vila gave himself up to the comfort of Avon's arms.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the story. Please review, if you would. What did you like and not like? Was there anything missing you would have liked to see or know?

Thanks for reading this story!