TITLE: Guilty in the Mind
AUTHOR: Eloy Brightdreamer
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: A distraught Crichton returns to the ship saying that he accidentally did something horrible. But things are not always as they seem...
WARNINGS: Apparent character death, gratuitous angst. The SACC will kill me for this. :)
SPOILERS: "Look at the Princess," "A Human Reaction"
SETTING: Between "Beware of Dog" and "Won't Get Fooled Again."
DATE STARTED: 1/2/01
FEEDBACK: Send it my way! Flames will be used to cook Ramen noodles.
ARCHIVE: Just ask!
DISCLAIMER: Farscape and its characters are the property of Jim Henson Productions and the Sci-Fi Channel. No profit was made from this story.
NOTES: ~~~~~~~~~~~ denotes a flashback
Part 2:
The maintenance bay echoed with paralyzed silence after John's hysterical pronouncement. Zhaan put her hands to her face in shock, while Chiana slowly sank to her knees. D'Argo regained his composure first.
"Tell us what happened, John," he prompted.
The human took a deep, shuddering breath. "It was an accident," he began. "I never... I.... I'll just try to tell you the way it was."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
John and Aeryn pushed their way through the crowded marketplace of Silexa IV. Booths and kiosks were packed tightly side-by-side in the narrow street, with tall buildings looming overhead. A thick, greasy smell of many different foods cooking filled the air, while the noise of the vendors hawking their wares produced a constant clamor of noise. His arms already full of packages, Crichton stopped to admire a selection of ornately carved knives laid out on a table in a small stand. Aeryn edged up beside him. "Crichton," she muttered. "Have you noticed how everyone's been staring at me?"
"They're probably just thinking you look good, darlin,'" John drawled, turning toward her with a smile. "Can't say I blame them either."
His companion rolled her eyes. "Have you also noticed that I'm the only Sebacean woman around?"
John looked about him curiously. Aeryn was right--besides a few sparsely scattered non-Sebacean groups, the crowd around them was composed almost entirely of Sebacean men, most of whom gave the woman a shocked double-take as they passed by. Suddenly, he noticed a group of black- uniformed men pushing their way through the throng, moving rapidly toward him. "Let's get out of here," he said, grabbing Aeryn's arm. But they had no sooner turned away than they saw another stony-faced group coming at them from the other direction. The two looked around frantically for another escape route, but they quickly found themselves surrounded by fifteen men wielding various types of nasty-looking clubs and bludgeons.
Dropping his packages, John rapidly drew his pulse pistol, firing it at the first man who lunged at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Aeryn do the same, then all became blurred in the confusion of the melee. Crichton managed to take out a few of their attackers before a blow to the back sent him flying into the knife-seller's kiosk. His head struck the edge of the table hard as his gun went spinning out of his hand. Blood streaming into his eyes, he struggled to his feet, grabbing a large knife from the table.
As he stood, he felt a hand grasp his shoulder. Dazed and half-blinded, John spun around and plunged the knife into his assailant's chest. Pulling the weapon out, he swiped the back of his hand across his eyes, wiping away the blood. When his vision cleared, he was horrified to see Aeryn standing before him, a shocked expression on her face. Dark red blood dripped through her fingers where she held her hand pressed between her breasts. She staggered backward a half step, then began to fall, her eyes rolling back in her head as her gun clattered to the pavement. John jumped forward and caught her, lowering her gently to the ground and cradling her in his lap.
"Oh God, oh God, oh God," he whispered, dimly noting that the soldiers had moved away, forming a circle around them. Unzipping Aeryn's vest, he held his palm tightly against the gushing wound, futilely trying to stop the flow of blood. "I'm so sorry, Aeryn."
Aeryn coughed weakly, a red trail leading from the corner of her mouth. "It's all right, John," she rasped. "It doesn't even hurt... I don't feel anything..." her voice trailed off into another coughing fit.
"C'mon, darlin', don't die on me now," John begged, rocking her gently in his arms. "I don't think I can go on without you."
Aeryn raised her hand to cup his cheek. "You may... have to," she said weakly. John leaned down close to her lips to hear as she whispered, "I'm sorry..."
"Don't be... don't be sorry," he pleaded, tears mingling with the blood on his face. "Please... just stay with me."
Her fingers ran lightly through his spiky hair. "You know... I've always loved you," she breathed, then smiled slightly as her hand fell limply to her side and her gaze shifted from John's face to a point far off in the sky.
"God... no!" John choked out. "Aeryn, please... I love you so much... don't go..." He clutched her lifeless body to his chest, his sobs shaking them both. After what seemed like an eternity, he felt a sharp blow to the back of his head, then slipped into merciful darkness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The next thing I knew, I woke up alone at night, in the same place," Crichton ended his tale to his stunned shipmates. He pounded his knee with his fist. "The frelling bastards didn't even let me take her body!" he shouted, fresh tears running down his cheeks. "There was nothing I could do."
Zhaan wiped her eyes, then bent her head and chanted a quick prayer. "Kah'leen carry her spirit to paradise," she finished, then placed her hand on the distraught human's arm. "Come on, John, you need to rest and heal now." She rose to her feet and held out her hand. Crichton looked at it blankly for a microt, then grasped it and pulled himself to his feet. When he began to sway dizzily again, the priestess grabbed his arm and slung it over her shoulders. "Chiana, help me get him to his quarters," she said, the Nebari scrambled to her feet to obey, speechless for once.
After the three had left the bay, Rygel swung his throne-sled around to face D'Argo. "I'll just go and... put Aeryn's room in order," he said, backing slowly away.
The Luxan reached out swiftly and clutched the Dominar's eyebrow ridge roughly. "Listen to me, you little worm. If you so much as touch any of Aeryn's possessions, I will personally rip your head off before stuffing your worthless carcass in a garbage chute."
Rygel wiggled free, then zoomed out of the warrior's reach. "Don't threaten me," he sputtered.
"I never threaten," D'Argo growled. "I promise."
The little would-be thief harumphed once before bobbing quickly from the room. After Rygel exited, the Luxan allowed himself a deep sigh before activating his comm. "Pilot, are you there?"
"Yes," Pilot's voice replied. "And I heard what happened. Moya and I are deeply saddened by the loss of Officer Sun."
"As are we all, Pilot. Take us away from here now, so that Aeryn's spirit may rest in peace."
To be continued...
