Just One Look
by CrystalMoon
Feedback: It's always welcome.
Spoilers: Everything up to and including Fractures.
Rating: G
Summary: John tries to get crucial information about Scorpius's command carrier.
Just One Look
-- Part 2 --
"Time to wake up."
John groaned as someone gently shook his shoulder.
"Crichton, you have to wake up if you want me to help you." It was Jool.
"Go 'way."
"Are all the men of your species such children when it comes to illness?"
John opened his eyes, squinting against the light. Tentatively, he moved his head, only to be rewarded with what he was sure were pulse blasts inside his skull. "Only when they have the worst headache that ever existed in the history of mankind."
"Well, this should help with the pain." Jool pressed something cold and metallic against his upper arm. A moment later, an icy blast shot into his body and began traveling toward his torso. "You can sit up now."
"No, I can't."
Jool laughed. "Crichton, trust me, you can sit up now."
John moved his head a fraction of an inch. There was no pain. He moved it back and forth. Still no pain. John sighed in relief and pulled himself up. "Lady, I don't know what you injected me with, but it has got to be the most fantastic drug ever invented."
"I'm glad it worked. Now, let's go to Zahn's lab so I can examine you and see what caused your head pain. I also want to look at those claw marks. D'Argo said that you weren't poisoned, but we should make sure."
John resisted the urge to touch his neck as he stood up. Then he promptly fell against Jool. "Whoa, what happened?"
Jool put her arm around John's waist and began to lead him toward the exit of the pod. "You'll have to lean on me. As a side effect, this drug can affect your equilibrium. Apparently, you are more susceptible than other species."
"Yeah, that always seems to be the case, doesn't it?"
When they got to the hatch, John finally noticed how empty the pod was. "Where are the others?"
"D'Argo and Crais were arguing about some chip nonsense or something. They left as soon as I got here." Jool paused at the steps leading down from the pod, and then started down very slowly.
John didn't want to admit it, but he was grateful for her support. Right now he was seeing two staircases. "And, uhm, where was Aeryn?"
They went down another step before Jool answered. "She wasn't here when I arrived." Then she added uncertainly, "I'm sure she thought you were fine."
John felt Jool's eyes on him so he schooled his features into his best poker face. If there was one thing he hated more than anything since Aeryn had come back, it was all the damn sympathy. He knew that they meant well, and that he should feel grateful for their support, but the opposite was the case. It made him feel broken, damaged, like he really was just a copy of himself.
But the truth was, Aeryn was the one who was damaged. She was the one who had watched him die. Or rather, she'd watched the other John Crichton die.
And he knew what that was like. When he'd watched Aeryn crash through the ice, he'd died right along with her. He remembered feeling hollow and dried up inside, like a gourd. If someone had shaken him, he was sure his internal organs would've rattled around along with his heart. The only difference was, Aeryn had come back to him less than a day after she'd died. It'd had been easy to push down the pain and let her presence fill him until the hollow feeling had disappeared.
Aeryn, on the other hand, had a whole month to get used to the other guy being gone. When she'd come back aboard Moya, she'd looked at John as if he were a ghost, or a copy. Definitely, not the man she'd been in love with.
The problem was, she had been in love with him before there had been two of him.
John shook his head and let Jool lead him to the apothecary. If he tried to figure out their relationship, he'd just bring on another headache. And he had more urgent things to think about now. Namely, how to get that information the Bocreel had in his chip.
After Jool bandaged his neck, took a blood sample and pronounced him more or less fit, he headed toward the center chamber for some food. Though he did have to keep one hand on the wall to steady himself, it was much better than before.
"I see you're feeling better," said Chiana when he entered. The room smelled warm and spicy.
"Yeah, headache's all gone." John carefully took a seat next to her. D'Argo nodded hello, and then turned back to Crais. The two of them sat across the table, glaring at each other, while Aeryn sat at the far end, mechanically eating a food cube and staring at a spot somewhere in front of her.
"What would you like?" said Chiana, waving a black-gloved hand over the table. "We've got zelnik soup, boiled cournets, uhm, something sweet that Jool bought, Hynerian marjoules -"
"You keep your filthy hands off my marjoules," said Rygel as he zoomed into the room. He floated to an empty space next to John and jabbed a short stubby finger into John's shoulder. "Pass me the marjoules, please. And no, you cannot have any."
John rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, Sparky. I don't wanna throw up."
"My marjoules will not make you throw up. But they may make you handsome and manly, like me."
"Then I definitely don't want any."
D'Argo snorted.
Jool entered the center chamber and took a seat near Aeryn. "Well, I've checked your blood, Crichton, and you appear to have some abnormal bacteria in your system." She frowned and reached for the pile of sweets. "Unless they're always in your system, in which case they aren't abnormal, are they?"
"Brilliant diagnosis," said Rygel as he stuffed a marjoule in his mouth.
Jool smirked. "I'm sure the bacteria is nothing compared to the creatures living in Rygel's system."
"Okay, back up a sec'," said John as Rygel prepared a retort. "Is this bacteria something I need to worry about?"
"Not unless you get some more symptoms. If the head pain returns, let me know."
"Great."
John dropped a few food cubes onto his plate, a piece of tangy rondir fruit and one of Jool's sweets, which sort of looked like an egg roll. It smelled vaguely of licorice. "So what's the plan?" he asked the room at large.
As he waited for a response, he turned to Aeryn first, as he always did. It was a habit that he'd taken up as soon as she'd come back aboard Moya. Check with Aeryn before anyone else. She knew him, knew what he was thinking, could anticipate the weaknesses in his plans. But this time, he really wished he hadn't. She was lost in her own world, still eating like a robot. Pick up a food cube, take a bite, lower hand, chew, repeat.
John turned quickly away, picked up one of his own food cubes and broke it in half. Then he set both halves back on the plate as his stomach did the familiar dance that told him eating was out of the question now.
"I think we should abandon this fool idea before we're all killed," said Rygel.
"Don't worry, Buckwheat, you won't be anywhere near the command carrier when we finally go in to stop Scorpius," said John.
D'Argo leaned forward and pointed a finger at John. "That is the main flaw with your plan, Crichton. Going in to stop Scorpius. We cannot 'go in.' You, Aeryn and Crais will be recognized. I am a Luxan. There is no one here who can go aboard the command carrier undetected."
"I can," said Chiana, tilting her head to the side. "I did it before when we snuck onto the Gammack base. I can do it again."
"Oh, and what?" said D'Argo. "You will destroy Scorpius's wormhole research by yourself?"
"Yeah." Chiana laughed. "Me and Ryg, right Ryg?"
"Speak for yourself, bitch." Rygel took a bite of another marjoule. "You couldn't pay me enough to get me on a peace keeper vessel again."
John rolled his eyes. "Listen, we can wear disguises. Wigs, mustaches, I don't know. Crais can dye his hair blond or something. The point is, we'll figure something out."
"D'Argo is right, I'm afraid," said Crais. "Security will be extremely tight. Not only will we need to worry about being recognized, we'll have to worry about retinal scans, heat signatures, brainwave patterns, fingerprints, and who knows what else."
"Then we'll figure out that stuff too," said John. "But before we do, we need to know what the situation is like on the command carrier. Let's concentrate on one thing at a time."
Jool got up and grabbed a pitcher of chilled yaaret tea. "It sounds to me like you still need the data from the Bocreel." She poured herself a glass and proceeded to go around the room filling everyone else's. "I would go back and talk to him, if I were you. Reason with him. Offer him more money."
"Well, lucky for us, we aren't you," said D'Argo. He took a long swallow of the tea and nodded his thanks to Jool. "That Bocreel is not to be trusted. Crais, surely, you have knowledge of other infiltrators like him."
Crais sighed and crossed his arms. "Would you like me to lie to you this time, Luxan? My answer is not going to change. The Bocreel is the only one I know of who is still alive. It is not a business that is without risk. Most do not live very long." Crais turned to Aeryn, his expression softening. "Aeryn, perhaps you know of someone who can help us. Do you have any contacts?"
"No, I do not." Aeryn pushed her chair back with a loud scrape. There was still a half-eaten food cube on her plate. "I was a pilot, a soldier, remember?"
With that, she walked out deliberately, as if she were aware of everyone's eyes on her. At the doorway, she paused, her back to the room. "I will be in my quarters if anyone needs me."
John crumbled a food cube in his fist as he watched her leave. He abruptly turned back to the room and caught Chiana staring at him, the corners of her mouth turned down. When he glanced at everyone else, their eyes flickered away.
"I'll be right back." John brushed the food cube crumbs from his hands, pushed his chair back as Aeryn had and hurried from the room.
He jogged down the hall. When he found her, she had abandoned her slow, measured pace and was taking huge strides with swinging arms. She didn't slow as John came alongside.
"Aeryn," he said. There was no reaction, of course, so John grabbed Aeryn's arm. Immediately, she froze up, a deer caught in the headlights. John swallowed and glanced aside. The intense way Aeryn avoided his eyes and stared at a spot just over his left shoulder, was freaking him out. He wanted to shake her or wrap his arms around her, he wasn't sure which.
"We need you back there. We need your expertise. Plus, you have good ideas." John paused. "I need you."
Aeryn still didn't react.
John sighed.
"You can't keep running," he said, loosening his grip but not letting go. "I'm here. I'm me. I'm not a copy or a ghost. You can't keep pretending that I don't exist."
"Let go of my arm."
"Aeryn, please, we can talk about this, can't we? I mean, I know it's bad. Hell, it's probably the worst thing that's happened to you, to us. And believe me, I know how you feel. It's just -"
"You do not know how I feel." Her voice was low, almost a whisper.
"Yes, I do. I saw you die when you crashed through the ice, remember? When I killed you?"
John sucked in a breath. He hadn't said it out loud before, hadn't acknowledged it in front of Aeryn like this. When I killed you. The words hung in the air between them. They brought tears to his eyes. He blinked furiously.
Aeryn's brows drew together in a frown. She opened her mouth as if she were about to speak. Instead, she reached over and tugged on his fingers until they opened. John dropped his hand and stepped aside. Aeryn continued down the hallway, slowly at first and then picking up speed until she was almost running, her braid swinging.
John leaned his forehead against the wall. "Damn," he said under his breath. "Damn." Then he slammed his hand against the wall. If they gave awards for taking a bad situation and making it worse, he'd win every time. He remembered the words of his counterpart: "Be smart. Don't push her. She takes time."
Maybe he was the copy. Of the two of them, he certainly hadn't gotten the brains.
And to bring up her death? John scrubbed a hand across his face as he flashbacked to Aeryn's funeral. He tasted the sharp metallic air of the ice planet with its formaldehyde-like chemicals that preserved the bodies. He saw Aeryn laid out, D'Argo's Qualta blade in her hands, her skin white and icy, her black hair fanned across her shoulders. The coldness of her lips had stung, he remembered. And when he'd cut her hair, he'd kept expecting her to open her eyes and ask him what kind of human nonsense he was up to now.
"Brooding about the past won't change the present," said Harvey.
"Shut up, freak." John slammed his hand against the wall again. Surprisingly, Harvey remained silent.
But he did have a point, John had to admit. So he forced away memories of Aeryn's funeral and headed back to the center chamber. When he got there, he paused in the doorway, watching everyone clear away their dishes. His sat on the table, untouched.
After a moment, they all stopped what they were doing to look at him.
"I'm going back to the planet tomorrow," he told them, fingering the bandage around his neck, "and I'm going to convince the Bocreel to sell us his data."
by CrystalMoon
Feedback: It's always welcome.
Spoilers: Everything up to and including Fractures.
Rating: G
Summary: John tries to get crucial information about Scorpius's command carrier.
Just One Look
-- Part 2 --
"Time to wake up."
John groaned as someone gently shook his shoulder.
"Crichton, you have to wake up if you want me to help you." It was Jool.
"Go 'way."
"Are all the men of your species such children when it comes to illness?"
John opened his eyes, squinting against the light. Tentatively, he moved his head, only to be rewarded with what he was sure were pulse blasts inside his skull. "Only when they have the worst headache that ever existed in the history of mankind."
"Well, this should help with the pain." Jool pressed something cold and metallic against his upper arm. A moment later, an icy blast shot into his body and began traveling toward his torso. "You can sit up now."
"No, I can't."
Jool laughed. "Crichton, trust me, you can sit up now."
John moved his head a fraction of an inch. There was no pain. He moved it back and forth. Still no pain. John sighed in relief and pulled himself up. "Lady, I don't know what you injected me with, but it has got to be the most fantastic drug ever invented."
"I'm glad it worked. Now, let's go to Zahn's lab so I can examine you and see what caused your head pain. I also want to look at those claw marks. D'Argo said that you weren't poisoned, but we should make sure."
John resisted the urge to touch his neck as he stood up. Then he promptly fell against Jool. "Whoa, what happened?"
Jool put her arm around John's waist and began to lead him toward the exit of the pod. "You'll have to lean on me. As a side effect, this drug can affect your equilibrium. Apparently, you are more susceptible than other species."
"Yeah, that always seems to be the case, doesn't it?"
When they got to the hatch, John finally noticed how empty the pod was. "Where are the others?"
"D'Argo and Crais were arguing about some chip nonsense or something. They left as soon as I got here." Jool paused at the steps leading down from the pod, and then started down very slowly.
John didn't want to admit it, but he was grateful for her support. Right now he was seeing two staircases. "And, uhm, where was Aeryn?"
They went down another step before Jool answered. "She wasn't here when I arrived." Then she added uncertainly, "I'm sure she thought you were fine."
John felt Jool's eyes on him so he schooled his features into his best poker face. If there was one thing he hated more than anything since Aeryn had come back, it was all the damn sympathy. He knew that they meant well, and that he should feel grateful for their support, but the opposite was the case. It made him feel broken, damaged, like he really was just a copy of himself.
But the truth was, Aeryn was the one who was damaged. She was the one who had watched him die. Or rather, she'd watched the other John Crichton die.
And he knew what that was like. When he'd watched Aeryn crash through the ice, he'd died right along with her. He remembered feeling hollow and dried up inside, like a gourd. If someone had shaken him, he was sure his internal organs would've rattled around along with his heart. The only difference was, Aeryn had come back to him less than a day after she'd died. It'd had been easy to push down the pain and let her presence fill him until the hollow feeling had disappeared.
Aeryn, on the other hand, had a whole month to get used to the other guy being gone. When she'd come back aboard Moya, she'd looked at John as if he were a ghost, or a copy. Definitely, not the man she'd been in love with.
The problem was, she had been in love with him before there had been two of him.
John shook his head and let Jool lead him to the apothecary. If he tried to figure out their relationship, he'd just bring on another headache. And he had more urgent things to think about now. Namely, how to get that information the Bocreel had in his chip.
After Jool bandaged his neck, took a blood sample and pronounced him more or less fit, he headed toward the center chamber for some food. Though he did have to keep one hand on the wall to steady himself, it was much better than before.
"I see you're feeling better," said Chiana when he entered. The room smelled warm and spicy.
"Yeah, headache's all gone." John carefully took a seat next to her. D'Argo nodded hello, and then turned back to Crais. The two of them sat across the table, glaring at each other, while Aeryn sat at the far end, mechanically eating a food cube and staring at a spot somewhere in front of her.
"What would you like?" said Chiana, waving a black-gloved hand over the table. "We've got zelnik soup, boiled cournets, uhm, something sweet that Jool bought, Hynerian marjoules -"
"You keep your filthy hands off my marjoules," said Rygel as he zoomed into the room. He floated to an empty space next to John and jabbed a short stubby finger into John's shoulder. "Pass me the marjoules, please. And no, you cannot have any."
John rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, Sparky. I don't wanna throw up."
"My marjoules will not make you throw up. But they may make you handsome and manly, like me."
"Then I definitely don't want any."
D'Argo snorted.
Jool entered the center chamber and took a seat near Aeryn. "Well, I've checked your blood, Crichton, and you appear to have some abnormal bacteria in your system." She frowned and reached for the pile of sweets. "Unless they're always in your system, in which case they aren't abnormal, are they?"
"Brilliant diagnosis," said Rygel as he stuffed a marjoule in his mouth.
Jool smirked. "I'm sure the bacteria is nothing compared to the creatures living in Rygel's system."
"Okay, back up a sec'," said John as Rygel prepared a retort. "Is this bacteria something I need to worry about?"
"Not unless you get some more symptoms. If the head pain returns, let me know."
"Great."
John dropped a few food cubes onto his plate, a piece of tangy rondir fruit and one of Jool's sweets, which sort of looked like an egg roll. It smelled vaguely of licorice. "So what's the plan?" he asked the room at large.
As he waited for a response, he turned to Aeryn first, as he always did. It was a habit that he'd taken up as soon as she'd come back aboard Moya. Check with Aeryn before anyone else. She knew him, knew what he was thinking, could anticipate the weaknesses in his plans. But this time, he really wished he hadn't. She was lost in her own world, still eating like a robot. Pick up a food cube, take a bite, lower hand, chew, repeat.
John turned quickly away, picked up one of his own food cubes and broke it in half. Then he set both halves back on the plate as his stomach did the familiar dance that told him eating was out of the question now.
"I think we should abandon this fool idea before we're all killed," said Rygel.
"Don't worry, Buckwheat, you won't be anywhere near the command carrier when we finally go in to stop Scorpius," said John.
D'Argo leaned forward and pointed a finger at John. "That is the main flaw with your plan, Crichton. Going in to stop Scorpius. We cannot 'go in.' You, Aeryn and Crais will be recognized. I am a Luxan. There is no one here who can go aboard the command carrier undetected."
"I can," said Chiana, tilting her head to the side. "I did it before when we snuck onto the Gammack base. I can do it again."
"Oh, and what?" said D'Argo. "You will destroy Scorpius's wormhole research by yourself?"
"Yeah." Chiana laughed. "Me and Ryg, right Ryg?"
"Speak for yourself, bitch." Rygel took a bite of another marjoule. "You couldn't pay me enough to get me on a peace keeper vessel again."
John rolled his eyes. "Listen, we can wear disguises. Wigs, mustaches, I don't know. Crais can dye his hair blond or something. The point is, we'll figure something out."
"D'Argo is right, I'm afraid," said Crais. "Security will be extremely tight. Not only will we need to worry about being recognized, we'll have to worry about retinal scans, heat signatures, brainwave patterns, fingerprints, and who knows what else."
"Then we'll figure out that stuff too," said John. "But before we do, we need to know what the situation is like on the command carrier. Let's concentrate on one thing at a time."
Jool got up and grabbed a pitcher of chilled yaaret tea. "It sounds to me like you still need the data from the Bocreel." She poured herself a glass and proceeded to go around the room filling everyone else's. "I would go back and talk to him, if I were you. Reason with him. Offer him more money."
"Well, lucky for us, we aren't you," said D'Argo. He took a long swallow of the tea and nodded his thanks to Jool. "That Bocreel is not to be trusted. Crais, surely, you have knowledge of other infiltrators like him."
Crais sighed and crossed his arms. "Would you like me to lie to you this time, Luxan? My answer is not going to change. The Bocreel is the only one I know of who is still alive. It is not a business that is without risk. Most do not live very long." Crais turned to Aeryn, his expression softening. "Aeryn, perhaps you know of someone who can help us. Do you have any contacts?"
"No, I do not." Aeryn pushed her chair back with a loud scrape. There was still a half-eaten food cube on her plate. "I was a pilot, a soldier, remember?"
With that, she walked out deliberately, as if she were aware of everyone's eyes on her. At the doorway, she paused, her back to the room. "I will be in my quarters if anyone needs me."
John crumbled a food cube in his fist as he watched her leave. He abruptly turned back to the room and caught Chiana staring at him, the corners of her mouth turned down. When he glanced at everyone else, their eyes flickered away.
"I'll be right back." John brushed the food cube crumbs from his hands, pushed his chair back as Aeryn had and hurried from the room.
He jogged down the hall. When he found her, she had abandoned her slow, measured pace and was taking huge strides with swinging arms. She didn't slow as John came alongside.
"Aeryn," he said. There was no reaction, of course, so John grabbed Aeryn's arm. Immediately, she froze up, a deer caught in the headlights. John swallowed and glanced aside. The intense way Aeryn avoided his eyes and stared at a spot just over his left shoulder, was freaking him out. He wanted to shake her or wrap his arms around her, he wasn't sure which.
"We need you back there. We need your expertise. Plus, you have good ideas." John paused. "I need you."
Aeryn still didn't react.
John sighed.
"You can't keep running," he said, loosening his grip but not letting go. "I'm here. I'm me. I'm not a copy or a ghost. You can't keep pretending that I don't exist."
"Let go of my arm."
"Aeryn, please, we can talk about this, can't we? I mean, I know it's bad. Hell, it's probably the worst thing that's happened to you, to us. And believe me, I know how you feel. It's just -"
"You do not know how I feel." Her voice was low, almost a whisper.
"Yes, I do. I saw you die when you crashed through the ice, remember? When I killed you?"
John sucked in a breath. He hadn't said it out loud before, hadn't acknowledged it in front of Aeryn like this. When I killed you. The words hung in the air between them. They brought tears to his eyes. He blinked furiously.
Aeryn's brows drew together in a frown. She opened her mouth as if she were about to speak. Instead, she reached over and tugged on his fingers until they opened. John dropped his hand and stepped aside. Aeryn continued down the hallway, slowly at first and then picking up speed until she was almost running, her braid swinging.
John leaned his forehead against the wall. "Damn," he said under his breath. "Damn." Then he slammed his hand against the wall. If they gave awards for taking a bad situation and making it worse, he'd win every time. He remembered the words of his counterpart: "Be smart. Don't push her. She takes time."
Maybe he was the copy. Of the two of them, he certainly hadn't gotten the brains.
And to bring up her death? John scrubbed a hand across his face as he flashbacked to Aeryn's funeral. He tasted the sharp metallic air of the ice planet with its formaldehyde-like chemicals that preserved the bodies. He saw Aeryn laid out, D'Argo's Qualta blade in her hands, her skin white and icy, her black hair fanned across her shoulders. The coldness of her lips had stung, he remembered. And when he'd cut her hair, he'd kept expecting her to open her eyes and ask him what kind of human nonsense he was up to now.
"Brooding about the past won't change the present," said Harvey.
"Shut up, freak." John slammed his hand against the wall again. Surprisingly, Harvey remained silent.
But he did have a point, John had to admit. So he forced away memories of Aeryn's funeral and headed back to the center chamber. When he got there, he paused in the doorway, watching everyone clear away their dishes. His sat on the table, untouched.
After a moment, they all stopped what they were doing to look at him.
"I'm going back to the planet tomorrow," he told them, fingering the bandage around his neck, "and I'm going to convince the Bocreel to sell us his data."
