Title: Home and the Second Wave Part 2
Author: Meridian
Disclaimer: As much as I'd like to say I own these characters (hell, as much as I'd like to just own Ben Browder and Sebastian Spence), I don't. They belong, I suppose, to the Sci-Fi Channel or whoever sells them the episodes. Whatever, they sure as hell don't belong to me, nor do I have express written or oral permission to use them. Um, not suing me would be greatly appreciated, as I am not making any money from this story, nor do I have much to begin with…thanks so much. And ps…some stuff is made up entirely, as people who actually live in Salem, Mass. will attest. Just let it slide? Please?
Spoilers: Oh boy, spoilers! Well, none really for the First Wave portion of this story, just you have to know the basic characters there…Farscape Spoilers? Let's see…Nerve, The Hidden Memory, and Bone to Be Wild…that should cover most of it, save for vague and infrequent references to past eps…Oh and one more thing? These events occurred in a reality separate from the Farscape world that ended with Family Ties (I began before the episode altered reality a bit, so please, just through Bone to Be Wild, thanks)
Note: This is a crossover, so knowing both shows would greatly aid in your understanding of events. It's not necessary, but it helps. Thanks to my story consultant Michelle (what would I do without her?) who proved that you don't have to watch either show to follow and yes, even like the story.
Formatting Notes:
[[…..]] Indicate memory
Italics…thoughts
********* Indicate change of scene
------------- Same setting, only separate from the action taking place previously
HOME AND THE SECOND WAVE
Part 6
Salem Center Hospital
May 15
Somewhere between consciousness and oblivion, John Crichton decided he had had enough. He found himself stretching out, reaching for life, trying to step through the cage he had created to protect his mind from any more torment.
"John? Can you hear me, John?" It was not a voice he knew, but it was friendly and inviting, guiding him to the exact point of consciousness. For the first time in the short while he wished to remember, John Crichton opened his eyes of his own free will. A man was sitting on a stool next to him. The fuzzy yellow lighting threw soft tints to what would otherwise have been a blindingly white room. Everything, save for Steve, was the same white, from the paint to the sheets covering the bed.
"Good Morning, John. My name is Steve Phillips. I'm a psychiatrist, and a mutual friend asked me to come talk to you. I would like to hear all you have to say, but first, I'd like to just ask you some simple questions. One, do you know what day it is?" John closed his eyes and sighed. What does that have to do with anything? It was a trick question as far as he knew. A cycle...a year had gone by or maybe more. That would make this what then?
"I have no idea. Is it summer yet?" Steve laughed quietly.
"It's May 15. Let's try something easier. Do you know where you are?"
"A hospital, I hope. I'd hate to think this is the dentist's office. If it is, I don't want to know what cleaning teeth has to do with me wearing this ridiculous nightgown thing." John tugged at his standard-issue white-with-green-dots hospital gown. Again, Steve smiled then chuckled, noting something on the pad resting on his lap. Humor was always a good sign.
"Do you know where this hospital is?" John thought about it for a while. He tried to pull out any distant or vague memory of the past few days where he might have heard or seen the name of the hospital. Frustrated and still coming up with nothing, he shook his head.
"Just hope it's not in Florida," he muttered. Steve noted that reference on his pad. He wrote FLORIDA and added a question mark. They would talk about that later. While he wrote down a few questions for the future, John thought about that particular state. He had nothing against it as a place, but that was where the danger of being recognized would be greatest, save for his hometown maybe. Steve's accent was all wrong for a Southerner though, and John placed it as a New England dialect, something like Bostonian, but a little off.
"Massachusetts?" Steve smiled, pleased and jotted this down.
"Salem, actually, good. How much of that was a guess?" It was John's turn to smile.
"Ninety-nine point nine, doc."
"At least you're honest. Now then, would you mind telling me who brought you here?"
"Some friends of mine."
"Names?"
"Aeryn and her friends, I don't really remember the others very well...I think one was Lina or Mina maybe?"
"Lita, actually. She's Sylvia's daughter. Sylvia is the one who called me to come down and talk to you."
"Oh," was John's simple reply. Steve noted that next to his questions about Florida.
"Were you aware of the seriousness of your illness?"
"When I was conscious?" Another smile from Steve. "Yeah, sorta."
"How so?"
"Well, for the few seconds at a time I could think about it while I was awake, I got the impression being unconscious so often wasn't a good thing." John suddenly felt tired, very tired. Thinking was starting to hurt, especially thinking about being sick. When he attempted to remember the exact times he had felt ill, his body hurt more. The sore rawness in his mind hurt most of all. Ten times worse than a headache, that wound spread like cancer to his conscious mind, shutting off those avenues of memory that were painful.
"What injured your body, John?" It was a politician's statement, and John saw through it straight away. Steve had said 'body' not 'you,' conveniently leaving his mind out of that distinction. Good thing too. John softly, barely shook his head.
"I don't know how, but I could tell you what. I'd rather not, if you don't mind. I'm kinda tired." Steve smiled, this time out of understanding.
"Of course. Feel up to a different sort of visitor?" John perked up at that offer.
"It's not the dentist, right?" Steve chuckled, wiping one stray tear of laughter from the corner of his eye.
"I think your problem is you're too funny to stand being sick for long, which is not what the rest of your body thinks, John. No, it's not the dentist. I think your lady friend is getting...anxious." John's eyes flew around the room, resting finally on the glass window in the door. Aeryn was there, her head turning as she backed away from the door, not looking at him. Steve moved to leave, shaking John's hand before doing so. There was a short talk outside the door, most of which John could not hear, then Aeryn came in.
"Hey," he tried to put more effort into the greeting, but he was only too aware of how feeble it sounded. Aeryn's eyes were captivating; this was the first time in a weeken...week, he reminded himself, that he could remember seeing her this clearly. Aeryn crossed the room, her eyes never leaving his as she found her way to the stool next to him.
"How are you?" John wanted to punch her in the shoulder. He really did not want to talk about this again. I'll be fine, why can't we just talk? He shrugged instead of saying anything. Aeryn bit her lower lip, the first real signal of indecision he had ever seen her make. "He looked...nice."
"I'm sure he is, but I'd rather just get out of here and get back to Moya." Aeryn looked at him with an acute gaze of surprise.
"To...to Moya?"
*************************
"Excuse me, Dr. Phillips?" Steve Phillips looked up at his name. The nurse who had come walking up waved to grab his attention.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes, sir. The serology lab would like to amend the patient's charts. Did you take them with you?"
"Oh, oh yes, here you are, Miss Simmons." He handed the nurse the charts he had taken from John's room after he managed to separate it from his notes and other papers. "Sorry about that."
"Not a problem, Doctor. Have a nice day." Steve smiled back at the beaming nurse. His smile lasted all the way into the elevator.
What a refreshing face. That's the way all nurses should be.
-------------------------------
Jessica watched the doctor disappear, seemingly in search of the party that had arrived with the patient. She kept smiling to all she passed, wishing well to patients she knew from the hall, only stopping to chat for short two or three sentence conversations. The nurses' station, her destination, was nearly deserted, save for Tatiana.
"Tanya?" Tatiana looked up from her list of patients.
"Yes?"
"Would you do me a big favor?"
"Sure thing."
"I promised that troop I'd watch out for the guy in room 312, but I really need to get off my feet for a few minutes. Think you could check on him for me? You know, see if he needs anything?" Tatiana smiled.
"Sure, I need to get started on getting these patients' files to the right people anyway."
"You're an angel, Tanya, thanks." Tatiana shook her head, still smiling, and left. Jessica let out a slow, nervous, shaky breath. Disaster averted. She had been positive that she had blown her chance at snagging the patient records when the psychiatrist had shown up so suddenly this morning. Then that strange woman had insisted on staying in the hall and playing sentry.
Only a stroke of luck had secured the record for her. The shrink had taken a look at the file and had completely forgotten that he still had the papers in his hand when he left the room. Another fortunate circumstance had allowed her to notice this. Jessica smiled, suddenly cocky and self-assured. Surely, no one would miss these files yet.
She pulled out her cell phone.
"Hello, Jessica. What do you have?"
"The patient's name is Crichton, John Crichton."
"Details? Background?"
"They haven't listed it yet, which means no one's offered that information. Check it against our list of subjects, could be he's an escapee."
"There is only one fugitive, Jessica. This man may simply be in trouble with the law."
"He is hanging out with 117, so you're probably right. Okay, let's see. Came in with severe but not irreparable damage to his liver and kidneys, the right kidney worse than the left...and he's listed for a series of serology tests, but he tested negative for hepatitis, HIV, diabetes, etc."
"Nothing to indicate next of kin?"
"No, but the hospital billing hasn't been drawn up yet. They have to ask sooner or later. I'll pull an image from the cameras downstairs. You want one of each member or just the patient?"
"Everyone who talks to the patient and everyone who talks to them. We must be sure they are purged if 117 spoke to them about us." Jessica nodded, aware he could not see her, but trying to reassure herself. That would take some doing. Not that she did not have access to security, but merely the amount of time it would take to filter the tapes would increase her chances of being caught.
"Anything else?"
"Close any operation there before 117 can ask questions. There are too many people around you with access to the resources to expose your tests. You will be relocated if the area is exposed."
"Yes, sir."
"Call back as soon as you know more. I will have you paged if we uncover anything on the patient."
"Yes, sir." Jessica snapped the phone closed and pocketed it. Tatiana came around the corner just then, smiling and freely swinging her arms. "Well, you look positively sappy, Tanya. What's up?"
"You know 312?" Jessica nodded. "Can I help it if I think it's sweet his girlfriend is hanging around his neck? You can just tell she can't wait to get him out of this place!" While Tatiana laughed Jessica had to literally will her face not to lose its amusement. The woman was in the room? Jessica stood as slowly as she could, still holding onto her plastic grin.
"That reminds me, I have to bring the chart back. Oh, I completely forgot...stupid aching feet, distracting me from work!" Tatiana laughed and nodded, waving her friend away. Jessica strolled around the corner, walked a few paces, and then dashed for the third floor, her heart thundering in every inch of her husk.
That woman could ruin everything! The thought propelled her on. Somewhere in the recesses of her thought, her logical mind could not understand her fear, but that voice of dissent was squashed. Nothing must interfere with the capture of Target 117, and that patient might be the perfect trap.
Nothing must interfere with that trap
*************************
The Cafeteria
"Ugh, this food is worse than dirt, and I would know," Cade frowned at the sorry excuse for pudding that had been plopped on his plate. Lita and Sylvia found this amusing, but they were still wary of him since he had pulled the gun on Aeryn. He had yet to explain his presence, but he had at least told them his real name. That helped them to trust him, but more was necessary. It would have to wait until they were in a more private setting, something everyone accepted.
"I can't take this torture any more, I'm going to go call Eddie. He probably thinks I'm dead or something." Lita smiled and chuckled over her own pudding-filled spoon.
"I can go with you. I promised Chiana I'd come back to keep her company." Cade brightened to that idea.
"Better yet, I'll go with you, and maybe I can help with the disguise a bit." Lita nodded and shrugged at the same time, and the plan was accepted. Sylvia waved to someone over Cade's shoulder. A minute later, Steve Phillips dropped down beside Sylvia and began to chat her up about everything and anything about what she had been doing of late. Taking their cue, Cade and Lita took off for Lita's car.
*************************
Gua Headquarters-Massachusetts Compound
"It's an honor, sir." Joshua nodded at the facility's manager. The smaller man fell into step behind the Gua assassin. Joshua knew the way to the facility's epicenter, so no one bothered him with extraneous directions. One or two researchers handed papers to the manager, Sylan, but no one dared to even catch Joshua's eye. They were too afraid.
"When was the subject identified, and by whom?" Sylan handed the folder to Joshua. The file contained about fifty or sixty pages on history of the subject, whose name was labeled on the side tab.
[CRICHTON, JOHN ROBERT JR.]
Joshua flipped it open, unimpressed with the picture underneath. If forced to analyze, he would say the subject fit the human description of a handsome human male. Quickly, Joshua scanned the contents. The human had above average intelligence, culminating in a doctorate in Theoretical Sciences, something even Joshua had to respect. With the extent to which the human race was backwards in terms of space travel, those who hypothesized, correctly, above and beyond the known were to be respected.
"Astronaut? Is this report correct?"
"Our source at IASA assures me it is, sir. The case history of his disappearance is listed on the pages following his biography." Joshua flipped the pages to discover the articles that had been compiled, detailing the failed mission of Farscape 1, a one-man mission that left the whereabouts of one Commander John R. Crichton, Jr. unknown. Joshua recalled the case of the human who had disappeared, though the details he had were sketchy at best. Another acolyte had been assigned to monitor that case. As far as the Assembly was concerned, Farscape 1 had never gotten past the fourth planet, and therefore, did not pose a serious threat to the invasion plans.
"So this human has returned? From where?"
"Report came in yesterday, distress signal beacon. A Sebacean warship of unknown origin destroyed the first transport carrier of the second movement. Reports of a leviathan-class ship nearby were not confirmed." Joshua nodded, tucking the file away in his coat for later analysis.
"Then the Peacekeepers have been in contact with this human?" Sylan shook his head.
"The warship had Peacekeeper markings, but according to the ship's data, which it left on the beacon, the warship captain claimed to have no alliance to the Peacekeeper forces." Interesting, Joshua mused, scratching his chin lightly.
"Has the Assembly tried to contact them about the missing ship?" Sylan shook his head. Good, then this one is all mine to handle. No bureaucratic interference. "See that they don't, Sylan. It would be best to keep this astronaut's appearance and alliances uninvestigated until we have more evidence that he has even contacted anyone." Sylan nodded and waited for further instruction.
"There is also another matter."
"Sir?"
"Target 117."
"The human? What about him, sir?"
"117 has been positively identified by one of our agents in Salem Center Hospital. He came in with this other human."
"I don't understand, sir. How can 117 know this Crichton person? If by some chance, Crichton found his way back to this planet, how would he know to contact 117?"
"I am going to that hospital to find out. I will require three members of your team here for surveillance and as soldiers." Sylan nodded.
"Done, sir. What else?"
"If possible, I want to bring both these humans in alive. The Assembly will be most interested in discovering what, if anything, this Crichton knows about our operations here. 117 is still to be dissected as originally planned."
"Anything else, sir?" Joshua shook his head and dismissed Sylan with a wave.
How has it come to this? Joshua knew 117...Cade Foster...better than the human knew himself. If not for his assistance, Foster would have been dead in a hundred different ways by now. The thought of one time in particular brought the unwelcome memory of Lucas' death to mind. Joshua dismissed it.
There was more important work to be done now.
End of Part 6