Closure from Zy-Limbron

Part 2 – Confronting Present

If I had a million dollars, I would buy us both Farscape.

But I don't have a million dollars.

Frell.

Someone was there.

Maybe it was a dream. Stark could rarely separate his imagination from his reality in the present…but he felt that he could sense something in the darkness like he had sensed Sierjna on Talyn.

The darkness said nothing…but Stark knew he was there.

"Did you know Aeryn carried your child?"

It said nothing.

"Of course…how could you know? Only she and I knew. It was all over her thoughts but I did not say anything. It was not my place".

The darkness said nothing, but the 'sense' grew stronger…

"Do you wonder what your child will be like? Boy or girl…like it's mother or father…personality…first word first step first love?" He giggled, but it was an evil shadow of the happy sound. "Of course if your destination allows you can watch from wherever your spirit resides, and in that way perhaps you can still have the things I will never experience. My child, well my child rest where I can not reach now the doorway is closed…the Seer is dead…death is final…the end…the key".

Death…he could die that very moment if he wished…simply tear the mask away and allow himself to spill out into the world…return to the spirit realm. But deep down inside he knew that his final destination was different from Zhaan's, different believes…different actions, and it wasn't what she wanted for him. After her revelation in the spirit realm he had practically begged her to let him stay, but she had urged him to return to his corporeal form…told him to protect the Moya crew now that she could not. Guide them through hard times.

But he didn't even know where Moya was…Talyn had been gone for over three solar days now.

"Gone…everything taken from me….all gone…dead…taken by…"

"I'm sorry". The darkness interrupted him, and Stark's beliefs were confirmed, confident.

"Stop hiding from me you bastard". The Banik snapped, his vocabulary making good use of John's memory traces still within his broken mind.

A silhouette appeared by the window, set against the cityscape backdrop of Valldon's setting sun. From where he was sat Stark looked up, silently glaring at the silhouette as it walked out into the light of the hotel room. The Seer had been right, John was here…his spirit lived on, kept back by something…a power…the power of his love for Aeryn perhaps.

The 'shadow' of John walked into the light and gave Stark a small smile, but it was a pitying smile, a "feel sorry for the madman that lost his girl and kid" smile.

Stark simply glared and the smile went away. John knelt down, eye level with the sitting Banik and yet still a few feet in front, his hands rubbing each other as they rested on top of his knees. He took a deep breath, thinking about what to say.

"I'm sorry about your child…about Zhaan. If we had known…"

"Sorry about their deaths…or for being the reason that they died".

Crichton seemed slightly surprised by the remark. Stark had never before outwardly expressed his true feelings about the incident that had caused Zhaan's demise.

"I…"

"We could have gone to the planet, she could have been saved". Stark stated, gesturing like the madman his demeanour made him to be. "But you were more important…you were always more important…"

John was saying something in defence but Stark was beyond listening…beyond caring

"…always you…your neural clone…your planet…your side…your Zhaan. 'Aeryn is my zhaan, your killing my Zhaan'. Well why not YOU KILLED MINE! She was dying because of your Zhaan, the child innocent…they died for no reason…they died because of YOU!!!"

Without real warning he jumped up from his sitting position and launched himself full throttle at the Human, knocking them both to the ground as he hit him square in the face. Crichton hit back, and they fought violently, blinding each other with dust, scratching. After a full minute Stark managed to get his knee into Crichton's stomach and the Human gagged, giving the Banik the chance to pin him down, hands quickly moving to the Human's throat. Despite the obvious handicap of being dead, John began to feel himself getting light headed as air became thin. He tried to pull at the wrists, get them to release their grip, but he was unable.

"Astro, calm down and think this through". Crichton managed to croak as he thought fast, what would get through to his otherwise uncontrollable friend.

"I carried you over once, what's a second time".

Pressure built up.

John seemed close to passing out, eyes fluttering, voice just above a whisper. "Would Zhaan approve of this use of violence?" Stark's words…echo.

Zhaan, would she condone such meaningless acts, violence based on nothing more than hatred? The wide eyed Banik's grip loosened around the Human's neck and Crichton seized the opportunity. His legs flipped, throwing Stark over his head and into the far wall. Crichton braced himself for the counterattack, but it never came. Stark was simply staring at the wall.

John sat up, rubbing at his sore throat. Silent moments passed, neither of them saying anything until the Human decided to break the silence.

"I…I got selfish, overexcited. The wormhole seemed my one ticket home…I wasn't thinking and because of that Zhaan died. But it had reason…it had purpose. Because of her sacrifice Aeryn is alive, D'Argo and Chiana, Jool, Pilot, Rygel, even my bloody copy, they're all still alive. You are alive Stark because of her love for everyone, everything. In the end she chose to die to protect the people that she loved, to protect us. Knowing that makes it easier…makes me glad that I knew her…proud that I knew her. I only wish that I had half the guts to do what she did that day, what she did for us all…I'm sorry"

…there is no blame, only what is meant to be

"It was her choice…she served others until the end…and the child she bore will now only ever now content peace. Nothing about that is meaningless, only how I reacted". Pain and fear made Stark start to shiver. "I loved her because of that. She was so caring, she was beautiful. When she died she was so peaceful, so sure of her destination. Her sacrifice was worthy of a place beside the Goddess, revered and honourable…"

Had he dishonoured her sacrifice like nothing more than a pathetic creature driven by revenge? Hatred, negativity based on selfishness.

"Once cycles ago I knew only forced servitude, agony and humiliation. They used me to guide their dying, and when I wasn't needed they put me in a box alone, or in the chair still alone, but I never cared because that was all I knew of the world, being property of whoever paid the highest price. Even after I was freed from the cell I still knew little of my true abilities as an individual, and I wandered the territories for a cycle lost and confused. In the end it was Zhaan who gave me true freedom. She was so wise, full only of care and guidance. She helped me to grow beyond the life I had led. I felt so strong when she was beside me, so sure so…safe".

His tears started to fall, slowly at first; getting faster…so many that it seemed impossible they only came from one eye.

"Then she was gone and I was lost and confused like before…afraid so afraid…remembering everything…remembering the fire…my anger about it…anger for you. It consumed me, always on my mind, mocking me in the shadow. Then I discovered the child and was angry because it had died without knowing life…I had never even known about it. I let my feelings control me, let it…"

He felt himself starting to let go, but swallowed it back, burning his raw throat. He curled up as tightly as he could on his side, hurting from the fight…his impact with the wall…and yet so much more from inside…everything Zhaan had taught him, her wisdom and with it what had he done? He had hit Crichton, who was blameless, one of the only other people he could possibly connect to, the only one who really understood the Banik. He had created the terrible game, and there was no time to stop the merchant from leaving Valldon. A void seemed to consume him, so unbearable that he would have willingly ripped out of his own skin just to escape. Never had he felt this way before, hating himself and the world so much in that small moment. "What am I doing…what have I done?" Shaking now he was so afraid…would Zhaan hate him now…despise what they had had.

"I'm sorry". He whispered, his voice close to breaking. "I'm sorry for everything, I was blinded…rage…I couldn't see the true meaning…I couldn't see".

"I understand". John said. "And so does Zhaan. Can't you feel her in the room? She and the child are beside you…still guiding you. They have always been here; you just haven't known where to look".

Zhaan was watching him, he could not see her, but through John he could sense her presence. Did that mean, Had she… "Can she ever forgive?" He silently begged.

"She has already found forgiveness, what little was needed".

"Does she still…" Despite everything, could she still love the monster he felt he had become?

Something touched his shoulder, so distant Stark almost didn't feel it. He flinched in surprise…tried to recoil away but it held firm, another gripping his arm tightly.

"Yes". One word from John, but it was enough to let the cycle begin.

"Thank you". Stark managed to mutter, quietly repeating the words over and over, letting his emotions run freely now, shuddering as he let go of everything he had held inside for so long, the mantra whispered under his breath. His pain…the pain of the dead…the pain of her death…a lifetime hidden in a growing darkness that now had finally been quelled by hope's light. He was not alone, had never been alone, he could feel Zhaan there, all around him like the air. Time passed and with it the tears, but by then his body felt too heavy for him to move. He lay where he was and upon its own accord his eye closed under the weight.

"Stark, You okay Astro?" John whispered. Stark wanted to reply, but for the first time in half a cycle he could actually feel himself drifting, relief washing over his entire body like a wave and bringing with it an almost crippling fatigue. The grip on his arm tightened and he nodded weakly.

John kept holding him, whispering what little comfort he could, until the former slave was asleep.