Part 6
When Jool left the room, Aeryn felt her whole body sag. The paring knife slid from fingers. Pressing a hand to her chest, she willed her heart to beat slower before it leapt from her body. She could not go through this again. She couldn't. Not the being strong for him, nor the watching him grow weaker and weaker, nor the final words as he came to terms with his life, nor the last passionate kiss. And certainly not the soft hiss of air from lungs that would never contract again.
With a grunt, Aeryn swept the knife from the table. It soared across the room and clanged against a food storage unit. Frell that human for getting himself duplicated in the first place. She had never met anyone who found himself in more impossible situations than he did. If Aeryn had been on that diseased leviathan, she could've prevented this whole thing from happening. That way there would've only been one of him and he could die only once the way most people did.
Of course, she wasn't most people, either, she reminded herself. Who knew how many more times she'd pass on before it was her last. Two? Three?
An hysterical bubble of laughter threatened to burst forth from her throat. Aeryn clamped her lips tight, sure that the laughter would end in the kind of gut-tearing sobs she'd experienced after her John's death.
Besides, this John was different. He wasn't her John. He was the one left behind, the one they hadn't talked about. He was the one who'd brought stabs of guilt to her gut late at night. She remembered laying with John after making love, when the only sounds were his even breaths and Talyn's gentle hum. Aeryn would trace her fingers along his collarbone and remember.
There was another one.
Aeryn rose so fast her chair tipped over. She kicked it out of the way and set off down the hall. Her every intention was to go to her quarters, shut the door, and resume maintenance on the pulse pistols. She was not a diagnosan nor a spiritualist. She was a peace keeper, a weapons specialist on a mission. Of course, thanks to Jool. she now knew the mission would probably end if John died again.
Before she knew it, she found herself in the doorway of Zahn's lab, breathing hard. John was there. He lay on a table across the room, motionless, his profile highlighted against the low light coming from Moya's walls. He looked pale and thin and so like her John on his deathbed that Aeryn thought she could be seeing a ghost.
"Are you coming in?"
Aeryn whirled to her right, hand reaching for her pulse pistol. But it was only Jool. "What?"
"I said, are you coming in? There's no point standing in the doorway." Jool thrust her chin out, a small show of bravado from behind a lab table. "He's certainly not coming to you."
Aeryn didn't move. The doorway felt safe and substantial and she liked it at her side. Instead, she faced John. "How is he?"
"He's sleeping. I gave him some kilint a couple arns ago, and that makes him groggy. He'll probably sleep through the night."
"Why haven't we hired a diagnosan?"
"Because there are none on the planet, and Crichton insisted that we stay so he could talk to the Bocreel again. Of course that was four solar day ago." Her tone made it clear how little she thought of this plan. "D'Argo agreed."
"Stubborn, frelling, idiots," Aeryn muttered.
Jool edged closer to Aeryn. "If you are staying, then I'll go to my quarters. It's late."
Aeryn shook her head. "I'm not staying."
Jool quickly squeezed past Aeryn and into the hall. "Just post a drd before you leave so Pilot can watch over him."
Aeryn glared at Jool's back and briefly considered telling Jool to post her own drd's. But she didn't move, and as the sound of Jool's heels faded down the hall, Aeryn fingered her comm badge, trying to decide whether or not to call Pilot.
Her body made her mind up for her. In a moment, she'd walked to his bedside and was reaching out with a hand that trembled slightly. She traced the smooth skin above his left eyebrow, the flawless patch that marked him as the other one more than anything else did. Then she slid her fingers down his face, past a cheekbone, along his jaw. She outlined his lips, his nose, and brushed his hairline. He felt hot. The hollows of his cheeks were too deep. He was not her John.
She should leave.
She didn't. She brought her face close to his bare shoulder and breathed in. He smelled like sweat and medicine and his favorite soap. She tasted the skin, flicking her tongue lightly on his bicep. It was salty and familiar.
John sighed and turned his head toward her. Aeryn glanced up, but he was still asleep. Emboldened, she pulled down his blanket until there was enough room for her to rest her head on his chest as she had a hundred times on Talyn. The short hairs tickled her cheek. She closed her eyes and brought her arm across him, letting her hand settle around his waist.
The last time she had held him like this he had grown cold. This time he was too hot. Tears filled her eyes along with a familiar ache deep in her chest.
If she wanted to, she could pretend that her John hadn't died, that he'd simply lost his recent memories in an injury. She could move into his quarters and wear his t-shirts while he pretended outrage that she'd stretched them out. They could make love just before first shift and sneak onto the transport pod when they should be performing maintenance on communication circuits. They could nibble mokon chips from the same plate and chase Rygel away by licking the salt from each others' lips. They could stand on the bridge, shoulders touching, fingertips barely interlocking so Crais wouldn't notice, or at least not notice too much.
But Aeryn was on Moya now and this John was not her John, and pretending was not her way. She straightened up and smoothed John's blanket back into place, fingers lingering on his collar bone. Finally, she forced them away and wiped the moisture from her nose and cheeks.
A footstep sounded behind her. Aeryn turned. D'Argo was hovering in the doorway, half-in and half-out of the room. "If you would like to be alone ..." he said.
Aeryn crossed her arms. "No, it's fine."
"I just wanted to check on him before I went to my quarters for the night." D'Argo came alongside her, giving her a measuring glance. "I am surprised to see you here."
"Shocked, I would think," said Aeryn, "considering that you had no intention of telling me about his condition."
D'Argo swung his head sheepishly to the side. "John did not want to worry you."
"This was his idea?"
"Yes."
"I should have known." Aeryn stepped away from John, beckoning D'Argo to join her near Jool's lab table. "He needs a diagnosan."
"Yes, I know."
Aeryn frowned. "We should leave orbit immediately and find one."
"Do you think we have not considered that? Just where do you propose we go?"
"I don't know, but clearly what you are doing is not working."
D'Argo glared at her. "And how would you know what we are doing?"
"I don't, but then you have hidden his illness from me along with everything else."
"He has been laid up for a weeken, Aeryn. If you really wanted to know, you would have cared enough to notice."
Aeryn turned away, acknowledging the truth of his words.
"Enough." D'Argo paced back and forth, breathing deeply as if trying to reign in his temper. "We could spend all of our time flying from planet to planet looking for a diagnosan. Or we could stay near this one where he caught the frelling disease and continue to consult with the healers here. That is what we are doing."
"Then it looks like you've thought of everything." Aeryn turned and headed toward the door.
"Where are you going?"
She paused and glanced at him in surprise. "To my quarters. Now that you are here, you can watch Crichton. Jool said to post drd's before leaving him alone, though I suppose you already know that."
D'Argo frowned in confusion. "But I thought you would be staying."
"Why would I do that?"
His brows drew together in the most irritatingly sympathetic fashion, as if he thought he understood her. "Aeryn, I saw you with him just now."
"And?"
"And I saw that you have finally stopped thinking of him as a copy."
"A copy? I know he isn't a copy." And she added under her breath, "That's not the problem."
Just then, Rygel zoomed into the lab. He looked from Aeryn to D'Argo and back again. "What are the two of you up to?"
"What do you think, your lowness?" said D'Argo. "We're placing wagers on when you will be thrown out an airlock."
Rygel hmmphed and turned to Aeryn. "I see they finally decided to tell you about Crichton."
Aeryn raised an eyebrow, warning Rygel not to push things. Not that he listened to much besides his stomachs.
"Why are you here?" said D'Argo. "If you want to steal John's clothes then you are wasting your time. I have locked them in his quarters."
Rygel flew his throne chair to a shelf covered with bottles and jars of all colors and shapes. He selected one filled with a green liquid. "I am having trouble sleeping, and this relaxant always helps."
As he flew back toward the door, he stopped and floated next to John. "Is he doing any better?" he said in a tone that surprised Aeryn for its soberness.
"His condition is unchanged," said D'Argo.
Rygel then flew up to Aeryn. He reached out and patted her on the arm. "I'm sorry, Aeryn. I don't want to see Crichton die again, either."
Aeryn shook off his arm.
"Hey, everyone," said John in a gruff voice.
The three of them quickly turned. D'Argo hurried to John's side with Rygel close behind. "John, how are you feeling?" said D'Argo.
"Ready to party." John swallowed with some difficulty. "Thirsty."
D'Argo grabbed a small cup from the table and filled it with water. He elevated John's bed and held the glass for him. After John had gulped a small amount of water, he fell back against the pillow, closed his eyes and took in deep raspy breathes.
Aeryn felt the familiar ache spread from her chest to her shoulders and neck. She tried telling herself to leave but she couldn't stop watching. He looked exactly like her John had looked when he'd grown weak from radiation poisoning. It was like seeing a distorted replay of the worst day of her life. All they needed now, was Stark and Crais.
Finally John opened his eyes and noticed Rygel. "Sparky, haven't seen you in a while. How you doing?"
"I am having a little trouble sleeping," admitted Rygel.
"Sleeping, huh?" John chuckled, though it was barely above a whisper. "That's all I do."
"You have another visitor," said D'Argo. He and Rygel parted to allow an unobstructed view of Aeryn.
The minute John looked in her direction, Aeryn wanted to run. She stepped back, knocking against a stool. Then she hurried to the doorway, pressing a hand to her chest. The ache had turned into a knife wound or a pulse blast, exactly the kind of thing she'd been trying to avoid since she'd come back aboard Moya.
Finally, she paused, bolstered by the frame of the door, her back half-turned to the room and glanced at him. John was looking at her, his eyes bluer and more beautiful than she ever remembered.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey."
They stared at each other for several hundred microts.
"You didn't want me to know," she finally said, at the same moment that John said, "You're here."
Rygel glanced from Aeryn to John. "Yotz, this could take all night." Rygel zoomed his throne chair past Aeryn calling, "Good night" as he sped down the hallway.
Then it was D'Argo's turn. "Is there anything else I can get you?" he asked.
John barely took his eyes off Aeryn. "Thanks, buddy. I'm fine."
"Then I will leave the two of you alone." D'Argo squeezed John's shoulder and stepped quickly from the room.
For a long time, neither John nor Aeryn said a word, and the silenced stretched out between them.
"Come closer," said John finally. But he said it as if he thought she might do just the opposite.
Aeryn sighed and moved to his side. She ran her fingers along a fold of his blanket.
"That's better." He smiled with none of his usual energy. "You're a sight for sore eyes - literally."
"Your eyes are in pain?"
He chuckled. Then he reached out and touched her hand. Aeryn pulled back, and winced at the flicker of hurt that flashed across his face.
"How are you?" he said.
"It doesn't matter how I am. You're the one who is ill."
"It matters to me." John closed his eyes for a moment. Weak, pale. "I'm fading. Damn bug juice of Jool's really knocks me out."
"Can I get you anything?"
John shook his head and opened his eyes. "Sometimes I don't know if I'll wake up so ... since you're here ... I love you."
Aeryn felt an immense weight press down upon her and she crossed her arms. "John," she began, but he shook his head.
"Just wanted you to know in case you didn't." He paused to catch his breath, panting after every few words. "'Cause if the next words out of your mouth aren't 'I love you too' then I really, really don't want to hear them."
Aeryn nodded. "You should get some sleep."
"Yeah." He stared at her intently, brows drawn together. He looked as if he weren't sure he'd see her again and he wanted to remember this moment, as if he knew what she could handle, knew they'd crossed the line just now. Then he closed his eyes.
Aeryn stood by his bed and watched as his breathing slowed down and his face relaxed. She picked up a cloth and wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. Then she commed Pilot and told him to post a drd. Finally, she dimmed the lights and went back to her own quarters.
Sleep did not come easily that night.
When Jool left the room, Aeryn felt her whole body sag. The paring knife slid from fingers. Pressing a hand to her chest, she willed her heart to beat slower before it leapt from her body. She could not go through this again. She couldn't. Not the being strong for him, nor the watching him grow weaker and weaker, nor the final words as he came to terms with his life, nor the last passionate kiss. And certainly not the soft hiss of air from lungs that would never contract again.
With a grunt, Aeryn swept the knife from the table. It soared across the room and clanged against a food storage unit. Frell that human for getting himself duplicated in the first place. She had never met anyone who found himself in more impossible situations than he did. If Aeryn had been on that diseased leviathan, she could've prevented this whole thing from happening. That way there would've only been one of him and he could die only once the way most people did.
Of course, she wasn't most people, either, she reminded herself. Who knew how many more times she'd pass on before it was her last. Two? Three?
An hysterical bubble of laughter threatened to burst forth from her throat. Aeryn clamped her lips tight, sure that the laughter would end in the kind of gut-tearing sobs she'd experienced after her John's death.
Besides, this John was different. He wasn't her John. He was the one left behind, the one they hadn't talked about. He was the one who'd brought stabs of guilt to her gut late at night. She remembered laying with John after making love, when the only sounds were his even breaths and Talyn's gentle hum. Aeryn would trace her fingers along his collarbone and remember.
There was another one.
Aeryn rose so fast her chair tipped over. She kicked it out of the way and set off down the hall. Her every intention was to go to her quarters, shut the door, and resume maintenance on the pulse pistols. She was not a diagnosan nor a spiritualist. She was a peace keeper, a weapons specialist on a mission. Of course, thanks to Jool. she now knew the mission would probably end if John died again.
Before she knew it, she found herself in the doorway of Zahn's lab, breathing hard. John was there. He lay on a table across the room, motionless, his profile highlighted against the low light coming from Moya's walls. He looked pale and thin and so like her John on his deathbed that Aeryn thought she could be seeing a ghost.
"Are you coming in?"
Aeryn whirled to her right, hand reaching for her pulse pistol. But it was only Jool. "What?"
"I said, are you coming in? There's no point standing in the doorway." Jool thrust her chin out, a small show of bravado from behind a lab table. "He's certainly not coming to you."
Aeryn didn't move. The doorway felt safe and substantial and she liked it at her side. Instead, she faced John. "How is he?"
"He's sleeping. I gave him some kilint a couple arns ago, and that makes him groggy. He'll probably sleep through the night."
"Why haven't we hired a diagnosan?"
"Because there are none on the planet, and Crichton insisted that we stay so he could talk to the Bocreel again. Of course that was four solar day ago." Her tone made it clear how little she thought of this plan. "D'Argo agreed."
"Stubborn, frelling, idiots," Aeryn muttered.
Jool edged closer to Aeryn. "If you are staying, then I'll go to my quarters. It's late."
Aeryn shook her head. "I'm not staying."
Jool quickly squeezed past Aeryn and into the hall. "Just post a drd before you leave so Pilot can watch over him."
Aeryn glared at Jool's back and briefly considered telling Jool to post her own drd's. But she didn't move, and as the sound of Jool's heels faded down the hall, Aeryn fingered her comm badge, trying to decide whether or not to call Pilot.
Her body made her mind up for her. In a moment, she'd walked to his bedside and was reaching out with a hand that trembled slightly. She traced the smooth skin above his left eyebrow, the flawless patch that marked him as the other one more than anything else did. Then she slid her fingers down his face, past a cheekbone, along his jaw. She outlined his lips, his nose, and brushed his hairline. He felt hot. The hollows of his cheeks were too deep. He was not her John.
She should leave.
She didn't. She brought her face close to his bare shoulder and breathed in. He smelled like sweat and medicine and his favorite soap. She tasted the skin, flicking her tongue lightly on his bicep. It was salty and familiar.
John sighed and turned his head toward her. Aeryn glanced up, but he was still asleep. Emboldened, she pulled down his blanket until there was enough room for her to rest her head on his chest as she had a hundred times on Talyn. The short hairs tickled her cheek. She closed her eyes and brought her arm across him, letting her hand settle around his waist.
The last time she had held him like this he had grown cold. This time he was too hot. Tears filled her eyes along with a familiar ache deep in her chest.
If she wanted to, she could pretend that her John hadn't died, that he'd simply lost his recent memories in an injury. She could move into his quarters and wear his t-shirts while he pretended outrage that she'd stretched them out. They could make love just before first shift and sneak onto the transport pod when they should be performing maintenance on communication circuits. They could nibble mokon chips from the same plate and chase Rygel away by licking the salt from each others' lips. They could stand on the bridge, shoulders touching, fingertips barely interlocking so Crais wouldn't notice, or at least not notice too much.
But Aeryn was on Moya now and this John was not her John, and pretending was not her way. She straightened up and smoothed John's blanket back into place, fingers lingering on his collar bone. Finally, she forced them away and wiped the moisture from her nose and cheeks.
A footstep sounded behind her. Aeryn turned. D'Argo was hovering in the doorway, half-in and half-out of the room. "If you would like to be alone ..." he said.
Aeryn crossed her arms. "No, it's fine."
"I just wanted to check on him before I went to my quarters for the night." D'Argo came alongside her, giving her a measuring glance. "I am surprised to see you here."
"Shocked, I would think," said Aeryn, "considering that you had no intention of telling me about his condition."
D'Argo swung his head sheepishly to the side. "John did not want to worry you."
"This was his idea?"
"Yes."
"I should have known." Aeryn stepped away from John, beckoning D'Argo to join her near Jool's lab table. "He needs a diagnosan."
"Yes, I know."
Aeryn frowned. "We should leave orbit immediately and find one."
"Do you think we have not considered that? Just where do you propose we go?"
"I don't know, but clearly what you are doing is not working."
D'Argo glared at her. "And how would you know what we are doing?"
"I don't, but then you have hidden his illness from me along with everything else."
"He has been laid up for a weeken, Aeryn. If you really wanted to know, you would have cared enough to notice."
Aeryn turned away, acknowledging the truth of his words.
"Enough." D'Argo paced back and forth, breathing deeply as if trying to reign in his temper. "We could spend all of our time flying from planet to planet looking for a diagnosan. Or we could stay near this one where he caught the frelling disease and continue to consult with the healers here. That is what we are doing."
"Then it looks like you've thought of everything." Aeryn turned and headed toward the door.
"Where are you going?"
She paused and glanced at him in surprise. "To my quarters. Now that you are here, you can watch Crichton. Jool said to post drd's before leaving him alone, though I suppose you already know that."
D'Argo frowned in confusion. "But I thought you would be staying."
"Why would I do that?"
His brows drew together in the most irritatingly sympathetic fashion, as if he thought he understood her. "Aeryn, I saw you with him just now."
"And?"
"And I saw that you have finally stopped thinking of him as a copy."
"A copy? I know he isn't a copy." And she added under her breath, "That's not the problem."
Just then, Rygel zoomed into the lab. He looked from Aeryn to D'Argo and back again. "What are the two of you up to?"
"What do you think, your lowness?" said D'Argo. "We're placing wagers on when you will be thrown out an airlock."
Rygel hmmphed and turned to Aeryn. "I see they finally decided to tell you about Crichton."
Aeryn raised an eyebrow, warning Rygel not to push things. Not that he listened to much besides his stomachs.
"Why are you here?" said D'Argo. "If you want to steal John's clothes then you are wasting your time. I have locked them in his quarters."
Rygel flew his throne chair to a shelf covered with bottles and jars of all colors and shapes. He selected one filled with a green liquid. "I am having trouble sleeping, and this relaxant always helps."
As he flew back toward the door, he stopped and floated next to John. "Is he doing any better?" he said in a tone that surprised Aeryn for its soberness.
"His condition is unchanged," said D'Argo.
Rygel then flew up to Aeryn. He reached out and patted her on the arm. "I'm sorry, Aeryn. I don't want to see Crichton die again, either."
Aeryn shook off his arm.
"Hey, everyone," said John in a gruff voice.
The three of them quickly turned. D'Argo hurried to John's side with Rygel close behind. "John, how are you feeling?" said D'Argo.
"Ready to party." John swallowed with some difficulty. "Thirsty."
D'Argo grabbed a small cup from the table and filled it with water. He elevated John's bed and held the glass for him. After John had gulped a small amount of water, he fell back against the pillow, closed his eyes and took in deep raspy breathes.
Aeryn felt the familiar ache spread from her chest to her shoulders and neck. She tried telling herself to leave but she couldn't stop watching. He looked exactly like her John had looked when he'd grown weak from radiation poisoning. It was like seeing a distorted replay of the worst day of her life. All they needed now, was Stark and Crais.
Finally John opened his eyes and noticed Rygel. "Sparky, haven't seen you in a while. How you doing?"
"I am having a little trouble sleeping," admitted Rygel.
"Sleeping, huh?" John chuckled, though it was barely above a whisper. "That's all I do."
"You have another visitor," said D'Argo. He and Rygel parted to allow an unobstructed view of Aeryn.
The minute John looked in her direction, Aeryn wanted to run. She stepped back, knocking against a stool. Then she hurried to the doorway, pressing a hand to her chest. The ache had turned into a knife wound or a pulse blast, exactly the kind of thing she'd been trying to avoid since she'd come back aboard Moya.
Finally, she paused, bolstered by the frame of the door, her back half-turned to the room and glanced at him. John was looking at her, his eyes bluer and more beautiful than she ever remembered.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey."
They stared at each other for several hundred microts.
"You didn't want me to know," she finally said, at the same moment that John said, "You're here."
Rygel glanced from Aeryn to John. "Yotz, this could take all night." Rygel zoomed his throne chair past Aeryn calling, "Good night" as he sped down the hallway.
Then it was D'Argo's turn. "Is there anything else I can get you?" he asked.
John barely took his eyes off Aeryn. "Thanks, buddy. I'm fine."
"Then I will leave the two of you alone." D'Argo squeezed John's shoulder and stepped quickly from the room.
For a long time, neither John nor Aeryn said a word, and the silenced stretched out between them.
"Come closer," said John finally. But he said it as if he thought she might do just the opposite.
Aeryn sighed and moved to his side. She ran her fingers along a fold of his blanket.
"That's better." He smiled with none of his usual energy. "You're a sight for sore eyes - literally."
"Your eyes are in pain?"
He chuckled. Then he reached out and touched her hand. Aeryn pulled back, and winced at the flicker of hurt that flashed across his face.
"How are you?" he said.
"It doesn't matter how I am. You're the one who is ill."
"It matters to me." John closed his eyes for a moment. Weak, pale. "I'm fading. Damn bug juice of Jool's really knocks me out."
"Can I get you anything?"
John shook his head and opened his eyes. "Sometimes I don't know if I'll wake up so ... since you're here ... I love you."
Aeryn felt an immense weight press down upon her and she crossed her arms. "John," she began, but he shook his head.
"Just wanted you to know in case you didn't." He paused to catch his breath, panting after every few words. "'Cause if the next words out of your mouth aren't 'I love you too' then I really, really don't want to hear them."
Aeryn nodded. "You should get some sleep."
"Yeah." He stared at her intently, brows drawn together. He looked as if he weren't sure he'd see her again and he wanted to remember this moment, as if he knew what she could handle, knew they'd crossed the line just now. Then he closed his eyes.
Aeryn stood by his bed and watched as his breathing slowed down and his face relaxed. She picked up a cloth and wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. Then she commed Pilot and told him to post a drd. Finally, she dimmed the lights and went back to her own quarters.
Sleep did not come easily that night.
