Chapter 3 of 27

"Do you mean, Aeryn is intentionally blocking you?" John asks.

"Of course she is!" Rygel pipes up, "Who would want the blue witch lady controlling their mind? Perhaps if you leave Aeryn alone she will get some rest. Who could recover with you lot shouting and arguing?"

It's selfish, you know it, that Rygel wants them all to leave you alone and shut up. He wants to move on, the next planet, next chance to profit, it doesn't serve his interests that everyone is hanging around the infirmary focused on you. But still, he is the only one who seems to get it. That all you want, need, is to be left alone. You don't need Zaahn and her Delvian mind tricks, of John and his …..whatever he was doing. You don't even need D'Argo sitting by your side, in the silent way he does, which in the past has been oddly comforting. You just want all of them to stop and leave you alone.

"No one asked you, Sparky, shut the hell up or Aeryn won't be the only one in a coma!" Crichton threatens. Again taking his anger out on Rygel, who still has done nothing that you are aware of to warrant the attack.

"Is she doing it intentionally, Zaahn?" Crichton repeats, almost hopefully. As if he hopes you are doing it on purpose, because why? Because it is a sign that you're still in there, because he thinks he can reach you?

"Possibly, and possibly not. I don't know what kind of peacekeeper conditioning could have put up blocks in her mind, that Aeryn may not be aware or. Or possibly she is doing it on purpose. I'm not a diagnosan, Crichton, and I'm sorry but I do not have experience tending to injured peacekeepers!" Zaahn last words are bitter and angry. That isn't a good sign. Zaahn, the calm peaceful one. It's not lost on you that Zaahn has called you a being and a peace keeper in this conversation. It's not lost on Crichton- Either.

"She is not a peacekeeper anymore, she is Aeryn! She isn't a being, she isn't a peacekeeper, she is just Aeryn. Can we stop calling her that. She has a name!" Crichton yells at all of them.

He takes such great offence at you being called a peacekeeper. As if it is the most horrible dark dirty thing you could possibly be. And you see the way he thinks of Crais, the way he looks at him, speaks to him, speaks about him. That's what he thinks of peacekeepers. That's what he thinks of you- because as much as Crichton wants to deny it- You are a peace keeper. Zaahn was right, that is what you were, and what you were can not be all that different to what you are. If he has such a problem with peacekeepers then why waste so much time on you? Does he actually care? Or is it a sort of twisted kind of torture and torment that human beings used on people they despised?

You can picture Zaahn , her composed slight nod of the head, conceding to Crichton he was right- even though he was not. "I shall rephrase. I am not an expert on Sebacian physiology. And I have done all I can for Aeryn at this juncture. I have no reason to want Aeryn to come to harm. Why would I be here if I didn't want to help her? Why would I sit here by her bedside for the last 20 arns, right along with you, trying every single possible thing I can think of? I have done my best. And John, the fact is, she was a peacekeeper, and that could affect her ability to let me reach her, as well as her reaction to being wounded, to healing, For all we know this is a perfectly normal way peace keepers heal themselves, I don't know. But I know I have done all I can for her, and the rest is up to Aeryn, and in the hands of the goddess."

You can picture the look on John and D'Argo's faces, at the mention of the goddess. They didn't believe in the goddess, neither did you. Still, if it was a choice between counting on a non existent goddess and counting on you, well you're not sure which one they should pick.

You wondered how exactly Zaaahn could share a person's pain? Could she tell where the pain was? How much it hurt? Could she tell the difference between the physical agony of every breath grating against the multiple fractured ribs, the shattering headache, the ever present aching across your chest, your back, your stomach, where you had been kicked and punched, and the other kind of pain. The kind of pain you had never really known until Crichton came into her life. Not a physical pain, but still a pain that takes her breath away, a pain deep inside your darkest places that makes you want to die. Can Zaahn feel that? Can she tell where it comes from? Would it crush her to feel it? Poor fragile Zaahn, maybe she couldn't handle the pain of a battle hardened soldier, maybe she couldn't handle this other pain either. This pain you have no name for. It's crushing you though, you can feel it crushing you, and you don't want to infect anyone else with it.

You can hear sounds, shuffling of feet. You can smell Crichton closer and closer. He picks up your hand. He leans in close, slowly, you can feel his breath against your skin. You try not to move, not to react, perhaps he wont notice your heart skipped a few beats and your breath has become ragged and uneasy. "Aeryn? Can you hear me?" He asks softly.

It's almost enough to get you too, almost. It's not easy to resist him, much as you tell yourself you despise him and he despises you. It's not as easy as resisting Zaahn. His hand envelops yours, so warmly and tightly, and his face is so close to your own he is almost touching you, not quite, not like Zaahn who had pressed her face so close to your own that you feel certain your face has turned blue. He doesn't press against you, and yet his touch is all the more electrifying because of it, because he doesn't touch at all. But you can feel him.

Some microts go by. You don't move. You try to just breathe, just be still. But in spite of being a cold hearted ruthless soldier, his touch gets to you, the way your name rolls off his tongue gets to you. This isn't just paranoia, it is verified, scientifically, by Zaahns proclamation "Keep talking to her John, her heart rate just increased. I believe she can hear you."

All of a sudden Crichton has released your hand, for a microt you feel cold, alone, abandoned. But before you know it, Crichton is leaning over you, and tightly has hold of both your wrists, his grasp becomes tighter still, painful, and that feels good. It's the first time in a long time something felt good, and it's him. Not him holding your hand, stroking your hair, or who knows what he had been doing while you were unconscious for 19 arns. But when he grabs you like that, when he clutches you so tightly you are certain he will break your bones, when he shouts at you, when he shakes you so violently that wires and cables and whatever else Zaahn has attached to you fall to the ground, that feels better. And just lying there, taking it, not fighting him or challenging him or defending yourself. That feels so right. You hear him, but you don't really listen as he shouts at you "Aeryn I know you can hear me! Stop this frelling nonsense and let Zaahn help you. Whatever you are doing, stop it, stop fighting us, we are trying to help you."

What will you do if I don't? You want to ask Crichton. Kill me?

John is cut off by D'Argo, wrestling him away from you. Or so you gather by the sounds around you and the fact that suddenly Crichton isn't holding on to you anymore. Literally Crichton is kicking and screaming as D'Argo drags him aside, "Settle down." D'Argo tells him. "That's not helping anything."

"She can hear me, look at the monitor." Crichton protests.

"Her blood pressure is rising fast, and her pulse, I'm not sure that's a good thing." Zaahn says carefully.

"What are you saying?" Crichton challenges her. "This is my fault? I'm making her sicker?"

"There is no blame here, I'm saying Aeryn needs her rest, and it is not good for her to have us fighting and arguing over her. Nor is it a good thing to dislodge the IV cannula." Zaahn says, and you feel a painful sting as she re inserts the needle into your arm. She then reattaches wires to your head, your chest, your arms.

"She can hear me, Zaahn, she can hear me. You are right, she is blocking you, she is doing it on purpose too." Crichton proclaims.

How does he know that? You wonder.

"Why would she do that, Crichton?" Zaahn asks dubiously, and you are relieved that Crichton is the only one who knows you are faking it. The rest of them think he is crazy.

No one speaks, all you can hear is beeping of the monitor, which apparently is your own heart rate, rapid, panicked. Odd though because you cant feel it, not in the way you normally can when in a dangerous situation. Were it not for the beeps on that monitor you might even wonder if you were already dead. Not just half dead semi conscious.

" Zaahn said there isn't anything more to do right now, just wait. I will sit with Aerny for a while, we can take turns?" D'Argo suggests.

"Good Idea." Zaahn agrees, "One of us will stay here at all times, everyone of us needs to rest also, and carry on with our duties."

The calmness emanating from the two of them appears to have affected Crichton, as he has fallen silent. He has fallen a little too silent, a little too "I have a plan" silent. But there is little you can do at this juncture.

"Fine, Goodnight, and a little more peace and quiet if you don't mind. Leave Aeryn alone, she will be fine when she has rested, Zaahn is right all this arguing and fighting is making her worse. I'd be willing to bet a significant amount of currency that if you all left her alone for half an arn her vital signs would return to normal. Can you people not take a hint? She does not want your help. Leave her alone. And if anyone cares to wager that bet with me, you know where to find me. Limited time offer." Rygel says his parting words followed by the whirring sound of his throne sliding off to his quarters.

On the surface he always appears so self serving, but how did he know that all you wanted was some peace away from them? Did he know? Or was he saying it for his own purpose? So Rygel knows you want everyone to leave you alone, but no one else believes him, Crichton knows you are purposefully blocking Zaahn's attempts of "whatever Delvian thing she is trying". No one believes him.

Everyone knows a tiny part of the truth, perhaps, but not one of them knows all of it.