Chapter 2: Shattered Dreams
John woke up and flew out of bed with cold sweat pouring down his brow. "Oh man, I need to get a grip; that's it I'm swearin' off sleep," he said to himself. Dreams -- or nightmares, depending on what you called them -- haunted Crichton during his slumber. Giving up sleep hadn't helped, just made him more ill but the alternative wasn't much better. Images of Scorpius, chairs, people he'd killed, Aeryn dying, Zhaan dying, and the Energizer bunny had invaded his quiet retreat. Nowhere was safe for him anymore, not even the once-cherished calm of sleep.
He quickly decided to get dressed, but with an insight of brilliance, which for John was rapidly becoming few and far between, he realized he was already clothed. A quick inspection justified his case. 'I must be losing my mind. Why the hell not, I've lost pretty much everything else,' he thought bitterly.
"Uh, Pilot, what time is it?" John asked into his comm.
"It's about halfway through your sleeping cycle," the decidedly feminine voice answered him. "Any reason you're awake?" she asked.
"Ah, no Pilot, just a bad dream, sorry to bother you. Good night."
"It was no bother, do not worry. Good night Commander Crichton." Then the comm died.
"Man I need to go for a walk," John said to himself. He walked out of his chambers and down the corridor.
He didn't know where he was going, and it didn't matter anyway. He just had to walk. Images of Aeryn, Scorpius, Moya, wormholes, they ran through his head at light speed, each blurring into the next until he couldn't tell where one began and the other ended. In a moment of clarity, one thought burst into the forefront: Earth. The green and brown landmasses, the swirling white and wispy clouds, the blue and aqua coloured oceans. 'Is Earth home, I wonder? But if it's not, where is home? That's obvious stupid; home is where the heart is. But where is my heart? Oh yeah, that's right, it's gone straight down the dren hole after someone blew their nose with it and then used it to wipe their eema.' John chuckled at that. 'Even my thoughts are turning PG-13.' "Bastards can screw with my brain and rip out my heart but they can never take my sense of HUMOR!" he shouted trying desperately to sound like Mel Gibson in Braveheart. 'God, this is pathetic; I need a day off. I wonder what's on cable.'
"Your immature and childish musings aren't going help you now, John."
The hairs on the back of John's neck stood up straight. The breeze rushed by his face as the sound of waves crashing down upon the shore permeated his ears. "A beach, great, I am losing my mind." He paused for effect. "Again."
"No John, you're not insane, not yet anyway, but I'm starting to grow concerned for you."
John whirled around, dropping his surfboard, which coincidentally he hadn't known he'd been holding. He stared at it in surprise, but quickly looked back at the insidious speaker, grinning like a madman, which, at the moment, he was. "Hey Harvey, I'm touched! Nice of you to show up and join the party! I was getting lonely without you. Where've you been? I missed you. Bring the volleyball? I got the beers and steaks." As if by magic a barbecue appeared from nothingness with big juicy steaks sizzling on the grill.
Harvey gave him a cold stare. "I'm worried, John. You actually did miss me and you have been getting lonely."
John snorted. "How about 'it's nice to see you, John, I'm so pleased I'm not in the dumpster anymore, John. Damn, Harv, what are you, my psychiatrist?" he drawled. "Half of the reasons I'm like this are because of you!"
Harvey rubbed his hands together and started to walk down the beach. "Come walk with me John."
Crichton stood there on the beach, stubbornly trying not to give in to Harvey's whims. "Ah well, it's not like I've got anything better to do!" John shouted as he ran to catch up.
"I was the reason for many of your problems, but you know as much as I do that it's not my fault. Not this time, at any rate."
John laughed cynically. "Oh really, Harv? So, if its not your fault I'm like this and feel like shit, then whose is it?"
Harvey stopped walking. "Isn't it obvious, even to you? Even a higher brain function deficient life form such as yourself should be able to figure it out."
John placed his hands on his hips and stared at Harvey menacingly. "I'm not here to have my intelligence insulted; if I wanted that, I could walk around in the real world."
Harvey shrugged and pointed behind John. "All right, if you don't know, it's her fault."
John spun around, dreading what he would see. Or rather, what he knew he would see. There she was, standing in the moonlight as the day suddenly turned into dark night. Shadows danced upon the sand. The stars twinkled in mocking laughter. His heart stopped. "Aeryn," he whispered.
There she was in all her brilliance in a gold bikini, much to John's delight. A lightning bolt struck his heart and it began to beat once more. 'Great, everything is friggin' literal in this place!' he thought, less than amused. The sound of his heart rang in his ears; the rhythmic sound matched the pace of his breathing. Suddenly a figure came through the moonlight. Walking over to Aeryn, the figure grabbed her and pulled her face into his. She stood kissing another man, wasn't even fighting him off, she actually deepened the kiss. Crichton couldn't make out the face, but it didn't matter. It wasn't him, that's all he needed to know.
John felt his heart skip a beat and then the distinct sound ceased altogether. Unable to move or close his eyes, he watched, his heart slowly turning to dust and getting lost among the endless dunes upon the beach. His right hand started to shake violently. She was kissing the unknown man passionately, seemed to drink him in as she shoved him to the sandy beach savagely. Her raven hair moved in the breeze as her eyes shone from starlight. Gods she was so beautiful. "No more, no more, make it stop. I can't take this," John sobbed as he sank to his knees; his greatest fantasy was turning into his worst nightmare before his eyes.
Harvey crouched behind him and whispered into his ear. "I'm not doing anything, John, this is your mind. You must make it stop. I'm just a poor soul dragged into this mess. Trust me, I want out just as badly as you." Tears stained John's cheeks as he watched Aeryn ravage the man in front of him with a grin. A sharp pain ran through his chest.
Aeryn turned to him. Just for a second, John's heart leaped into his throat, but then she widened her smile maliciously and continued to her work, doing things John had only dreamt about. 'Hell, why wouldn't she be doing things I've dreamt about, it is my bloody head.for now at least.' It was his mind but he had lost control, he was helpless and couldn't turn away.
John couldn't breathe. He felt as if he were drowning. Suddenly he was thrust into the ocean, fighting against the raging surf. His face pummelled by the ocean as he was tossed about, lost among the rampaging waves. The cold water enveloped him and would not let him go. The salty liquid gushed into his mouth, burning his throat on the way down. His eyes burned as the salty water coated them. Aeryn's laughter and cries of pleasure echoed off the waves, scarring John's heart. Desperately he tried to hold onto something, anything he could find, but the sea was empty and he was alone, painfully alone. He looked up just before he sank underneath the angered sea. In the sky hung a blue, green, and white jewel. "Earth," he whispered before he sank into the endless depths of the abyss.
When he finally opened his eyes, he noticed he was inside the maintenance bay. How he'd gotten there he had no idea. "I could be dreaming again," he warned himself aloud. "Of course, dreaming doesn't hurt so bad. Wait, yes it does," he muttered sarcastically. He groaned as he tried to get up. All of his muscles were rigid causing intense irritation; in fact it hurt like hell. He stretched, hoping to alleviate some of the discomfort he felt, but to no avail.
"Ah shit, this hurts." He steadied himself upright and used a crate as a support to stand up, his feeble legs gave up and he crashed back down to the cold deck. Finally Crichton got himself back on both feet on his second try. "Now why the frell am I here?" A salty flavour in his mouth surprised him. He touched his lips feeling the tip of his fingers moisten. A red substance appeared. "Blood?" A numb pain he felt from his mouth flared up. "Crap, my lip's cut." John stared at the floor and saw much more of his blood. 'Funny how I missed that,' he thought. That much blood couldn't have come from his mouth. He checked his nose; it was wet. "A nose bleed?" he whispered. "That still doesn't explain what the hell I was doing on the floor," he groaned. Slowly he walked out to go talk to Pilot, his cramping muscles slowing his pace.
"Pilot I need help," John stated.
"What is it Commander Crichton? How can Elack and I be of assistance?" the ancient creature asked slowly in concern.
"Well, Pilot, I've been a little sick for awhile, well for more then a while but it's gotten pretty bad."
Pilot's eyes nodded as her back drooped; the DRDs had been watching his behaviour. "In what way Commander?" she asked in obvious concern, trying to find the extent of his illness.
"I dunno. Parts of my body shake uncontrollably. I've just been passed out in the maintenance bay for the last three arns. My nose has started to bleed unexplainably. I haven't been sleeping well, or sleeping period, for a while now. When Chiana brought me to my room last night, I was having nightmares. My muscles spasm and cramp every once in a while. To put it in a nutshell, I feel like shit and I'm starting to look the part," John said with a mild grin. He walked over to sit next to the giant gentle creature, but his smile faded as it turned into a wince. Slouching over he placed an arm on the gentle being to steady himself.
"Commander are you alright!" Pilot shouted in alarm.
Crichton forced a boyish grin to help alleviate her concern. "Nothing to worry about. Just my inferior human physiology acting up. My body's still sore from being passed out; I might've had a seizure. Ah well, it ain't so bad, the pain's going away." He smiled more widely, but it came out as an expression of pain. John doubled over and spat out blood all over the floor. His stomach heaved as more blood spilt out. When he stopped he turned to look at Pilot. "Um, Pilot, this isn't good. Promise me not to tell the others."
"But Commander, you're seriously--" she started.
"Promise me." John pleaded. His eyes were so innocent, so open as he begged.
"I promise." Pilot said solemnly.
He grinned, but soon found himself dizzy. "Thanks. I'll be away for awhile; call if you need me!" Crichton said, right before he passed out and crashed onto the blood-soaked deck. This time there were no more shattered dreams.
John woke up and flew out of bed with cold sweat pouring down his brow. "Oh man, I need to get a grip; that's it I'm swearin' off sleep," he said to himself. Dreams -- or nightmares, depending on what you called them -- haunted Crichton during his slumber. Giving up sleep hadn't helped, just made him more ill but the alternative wasn't much better. Images of Scorpius, chairs, people he'd killed, Aeryn dying, Zhaan dying, and the Energizer bunny had invaded his quiet retreat. Nowhere was safe for him anymore, not even the once-cherished calm of sleep.
He quickly decided to get dressed, but with an insight of brilliance, which for John was rapidly becoming few and far between, he realized he was already clothed. A quick inspection justified his case. 'I must be losing my mind. Why the hell not, I've lost pretty much everything else,' he thought bitterly.
"Uh, Pilot, what time is it?" John asked into his comm.
"It's about halfway through your sleeping cycle," the decidedly feminine voice answered him. "Any reason you're awake?" she asked.
"Ah, no Pilot, just a bad dream, sorry to bother you. Good night."
"It was no bother, do not worry. Good night Commander Crichton." Then the comm died.
"Man I need to go for a walk," John said to himself. He walked out of his chambers and down the corridor.
He didn't know where he was going, and it didn't matter anyway. He just had to walk. Images of Aeryn, Scorpius, Moya, wormholes, they ran through his head at light speed, each blurring into the next until he couldn't tell where one began and the other ended. In a moment of clarity, one thought burst into the forefront: Earth. The green and brown landmasses, the swirling white and wispy clouds, the blue and aqua coloured oceans. 'Is Earth home, I wonder? But if it's not, where is home? That's obvious stupid; home is where the heart is. But where is my heart? Oh yeah, that's right, it's gone straight down the dren hole after someone blew their nose with it and then used it to wipe their eema.' John chuckled at that. 'Even my thoughts are turning PG-13.' "Bastards can screw with my brain and rip out my heart but they can never take my sense of HUMOR!" he shouted trying desperately to sound like Mel Gibson in Braveheart. 'God, this is pathetic; I need a day off. I wonder what's on cable.'
"Your immature and childish musings aren't going help you now, John."
The hairs on the back of John's neck stood up straight. The breeze rushed by his face as the sound of waves crashing down upon the shore permeated his ears. "A beach, great, I am losing my mind." He paused for effect. "Again."
"No John, you're not insane, not yet anyway, but I'm starting to grow concerned for you."
John whirled around, dropping his surfboard, which coincidentally he hadn't known he'd been holding. He stared at it in surprise, but quickly looked back at the insidious speaker, grinning like a madman, which, at the moment, he was. "Hey Harvey, I'm touched! Nice of you to show up and join the party! I was getting lonely without you. Where've you been? I missed you. Bring the volleyball? I got the beers and steaks." As if by magic a barbecue appeared from nothingness with big juicy steaks sizzling on the grill.
Harvey gave him a cold stare. "I'm worried, John. You actually did miss me and you have been getting lonely."
John snorted. "How about 'it's nice to see you, John, I'm so pleased I'm not in the dumpster anymore, John. Damn, Harv, what are you, my psychiatrist?" he drawled. "Half of the reasons I'm like this are because of you!"
Harvey rubbed his hands together and started to walk down the beach. "Come walk with me John."
Crichton stood there on the beach, stubbornly trying not to give in to Harvey's whims. "Ah well, it's not like I've got anything better to do!" John shouted as he ran to catch up.
"I was the reason for many of your problems, but you know as much as I do that it's not my fault. Not this time, at any rate."
John laughed cynically. "Oh really, Harv? So, if its not your fault I'm like this and feel like shit, then whose is it?"
Harvey stopped walking. "Isn't it obvious, even to you? Even a higher brain function deficient life form such as yourself should be able to figure it out."
John placed his hands on his hips and stared at Harvey menacingly. "I'm not here to have my intelligence insulted; if I wanted that, I could walk around in the real world."
Harvey shrugged and pointed behind John. "All right, if you don't know, it's her fault."
John spun around, dreading what he would see. Or rather, what he knew he would see. There she was, standing in the moonlight as the day suddenly turned into dark night. Shadows danced upon the sand. The stars twinkled in mocking laughter. His heart stopped. "Aeryn," he whispered.
There she was in all her brilliance in a gold bikini, much to John's delight. A lightning bolt struck his heart and it began to beat once more. 'Great, everything is friggin' literal in this place!' he thought, less than amused. The sound of his heart rang in his ears; the rhythmic sound matched the pace of his breathing. Suddenly a figure came through the moonlight. Walking over to Aeryn, the figure grabbed her and pulled her face into his. She stood kissing another man, wasn't even fighting him off, she actually deepened the kiss. Crichton couldn't make out the face, but it didn't matter. It wasn't him, that's all he needed to know.
John felt his heart skip a beat and then the distinct sound ceased altogether. Unable to move or close his eyes, he watched, his heart slowly turning to dust and getting lost among the endless dunes upon the beach. His right hand started to shake violently. She was kissing the unknown man passionately, seemed to drink him in as she shoved him to the sandy beach savagely. Her raven hair moved in the breeze as her eyes shone from starlight. Gods she was so beautiful. "No more, no more, make it stop. I can't take this," John sobbed as he sank to his knees; his greatest fantasy was turning into his worst nightmare before his eyes.
Harvey crouched behind him and whispered into his ear. "I'm not doing anything, John, this is your mind. You must make it stop. I'm just a poor soul dragged into this mess. Trust me, I want out just as badly as you." Tears stained John's cheeks as he watched Aeryn ravage the man in front of him with a grin. A sharp pain ran through his chest.
Aeryn turned to him. Just for a second, John's heart leaped into his throat, but then she widened her smile maliciously and continued to her work, doing things John had only dreamt about. 'Hell, why wouldn't she be doing things I've dreamt about, it is my bloody head.for now at least.' It was his mind but he had lost control, he was helpless and couldn't turn away.
John couldn't breathe. He felt as if he were drowning. Suddenly he was thrust into the ocean, fighting against the raging surf. His face pummelled by the ocean as he was tossed about, lost among the rampaging waves. The cold water enveloped him and would not let him go. The salty liquid gushed into his mouth, burning his throat on the way down. His eyes burned as the salty water coated them. Aeryn's laughter and cries of pleasure echoed off the waves, scarring John's heart. Desperately he tried to hold onto something, anything he could find, but the sea was empty and he was alone, painfully alone. He looked up just before he sank underneath the angered sea. In the sky hung a blue, green, and white jewel. "Earth," he whispered before he sank into the endless depths of the abyss.
When he finally opened his eyes, he noticed he was inside the maintenance bay. How he'd gotten there he had no idea. "I could be dreaming again," he warned himself aloud. "Of course, dreaming doesn't hurt so bad. Wait, yes it does," he muttered sarcastically. He groaned as he tried to get up. All of his muscles were rigid causing intense irritation; in fact it hurt like hell. He stretched, hoping to alleviate some of the discomfort he felt, but to no avail.
"Ah shit, this hurts." He steadied himself upright and used a crate as a support to stand up, his feeble legs gave up and he crashed back down to the cold deck. Finally Crichton got himself back on both feet on his second try. "Now why the frell am I here?" A salty flavour in his mouth surprised him. He touched his lips feeling the tip of his fingers moisten. A red substance appeared. "Blood?" A numb pain he felt from his mouth flared up. "Crap, my lip's cut." John stared at the floor and saw much more of his blood. 'Funny how I missed that,' he thought. That much blood couldn't have come from his mouth. He checked his nose; it was wet. "A nose bleed?" he whispered. "That still doesn't explain what the hell I was doing on the floor," he groaned. Slowly he walked out to go talk to Pilot, his cramping muscles slowing his pace.
"Pilot I need help," John stated.
"What is it Commander Crichton? How can Elack and I be of assistance?" the ancient creature asked slowly in concern.
"Well, Pilot, I've been a little sick for awhile, well for more then a while but it's gotten pretty bad."
Pilot's eyes nodded as her back drooped; the DRDs had been watching his behaviour. "In what way Commander?" she asked in obvious concern, trying to find the extent of his illness.
"I dunno. Parts of my body shake uncontrollably. I've just been passed out in the maintenance bay for the last three arns. My nose has started to bleed unexplainably. I haven't been sleeping well, or sleeping period, for a while now. When Chiana brought me to my room last night, I was having nightmares. My muscles spasm and cramp every once in a while. To put it in a nutshell, I feel like shit and I'm starting to look the part," John said with a mild grin. He walked over to sit next to the giant gentle creature, but his smile faded as it turned into a wince. Slouching over he placed an arm on the gentle being to steady himself.
"Commander are you alright!" Pilot shouted in alarm.
Crichton forced a boyish grin to help alleviate her concern. "Nothing to worry about. Just my inferior human physiology acting up. My body's still sore from being passed out; I might've had a seizure. Ah well, it ain't so bad, the pain's going away." He smiled more widely, but it came out as an expression of pain. John doubled over and spat out blood all over the floor. His stomach heaved as more blood spilt out. When he stopped he turned to look at Pilot. "Um, Pilot, this isn't good. Promise me not to tell the others."
"But Commander, you're seriously--" she started.
"Promise me." John pleaded. His eyes were so innocent, so open as he begged.
"I promise." Pilot said solemnly.
He grinned, but soon found himself dizzy. "Thanks. I'll be away for awhile; call if you need me!" Crichton said, right before he passed out and crashed onto the blood-soaked deck. This time there were no more shattered dreams.