Title: Deliverance

Author: Auna

Timeline: Approximately 2.5 cycles after Bad Timing (4.22)

Authors Note: This isn't what you requested, or expected. But please, give it a chance. Although it is part of the Aeric/ Brennik universe, this is completely stand alone. You do not need to have read any of the previous fics to understand this. It is a prequel to something much bigger, still in the planning stages.

Credits: I have several people I need to give thanks to. ScaperRed and scrubschick were awsome beta's, as usual.

Sanchez was much more than a creative consultant with this one, he was a driving force, telling me to "hang up and go write!", always willing to discuss plot points when everyone else's eyes glazed over with bored disinterest.

And finally. a couple of people PM'ed me, asking if I had anything in the works. Thank you. Your requests were beautifully timed at moment of discouragement. You know who you are, and I express heartfelt gratitude.

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She held onto his large arm for guidance as they walked along the dirt road at a leisurely pace. She scuffed her feet with each step simply for the sensation of hearing the dirt fly in different directions. She felt the sun beat against her grey skin and for a microt she was able to enjoy the moment. But the heat reminded her of someone else, and her thoughts quickly became morose once again.

"It'd be too hot here for Aeryn," she observed.

"Yes, she would have had to stay on Moya," D'Argo agreed.

She heard children playing, and she sank even lower into her foul mood. If she was angry at Crichton, maybe she wouldn't fall into self-pity for being blind still. D'Argo never gave up hope, but it had been over two cycles since she'd lost her eyesight and she'd learned to adapt long ago.

Now if she could only convince D'Argo to quit dragging her to various healers and diagnosans. She tried not to get her hopes up, but every time she was told they couldn't help her, she felt a chunk of herself melt away.

Purposely, she turned her thoughts back to Crichton. Three monens ago, he watched as Aeryn's prowler exploded with her in it. For a full monen she and D'Argo took care of cycle-old Brennik, doing their best to comfort her in her fear and confusion over the loss of her mother and disappearance of her father. Her young innocent mind couldn't fathom why he'd locked himself in his darkened chamber, cutting himself off from the rest of the universe.

Finally, Rygel bravely picked the lock and invaded the darkness. When the door closed behind him, all was silent for 600 microts before the shouting and crashing began. The noise could be heard halfway around Moya. Rygel eventually emerged unscathed, and silently carried on as usual. The next morning John arrived at the Center Chamber, described by D'Argo as bleary eyes, bewhiskered, and unkempt. But he was up.

"Where's Brennik?" he asked, not bothering with greetings. Gone was the old easy-going Crichton, replaced by this stranger.

Chiana bit back a comment about him finally remembering he had a daughter, and answered him. "Sleeping."

She figured he nodded since all was silent and she heard him sit across from her at their table. "We're leaving Moya," he stated simply.

Fear coursed down Chiana's spine. Deliberately, she misunderstood his statement. "When are we coming back?"

"Brennik and I aren't coming back."

She jumped from her seat, tossing her plate in the direction his voice had been coming from. Hearing the crash echo from across the room, she knew she'd missed, which only kindled her anger further. "No! You... you can't go! You can't take her away from us!"

"She's MY daughter," he reminded her calmly.

"Well you've done a GREAT job remembering that so far, haven't you!" She knew she was being unfair, but he was ripping apart her family. She felt D'Argo's had on her arm, gently urging her to sit down and be calm.

"Chiana is right, John. You need to be with your friends right now," D'Argo reasoned quietly.

Chiana thought maybe Rygel would jump in with an argument. He had a soft spot for Brennik, but he remained suspiciously quiet.

"I can't breathe here, D." John tried to explain. "She's everywhere. I can... I need... to just leave."

"What about us?" Chiana demanded. "We've been raising Brennik by ourselves for a monen, not to mention the entire cycle before that we helped. And now you're going to just take her away? Frell! Rygel, what did you say to him?" She turned to where she knew Rygel had been eating, ready to wrap her long fingers around his throat, but John held her back.

Somehow he'd come around the table and held her upper arms in his grasp, pulling her back against his chest. His mouth was near her ear, and despite her anger and despair, she began to feel calmer in his embrace.

"Don't go blaming Sparky," he whispered softly. "He told me the truth, which was to get off my ass, quit feeling sorry for myself, and take care of my daughter. He was right, even if I didn't want to hear it. But I can't do that here."

He was going. She ripped herself from his grasp and ran from the room. She didn't need any help finding her own chambers, and she threw herself onto her bed. First, she'd lost her eyesight, then her best friend, and now she was going to lose a daughter and the man who'd been more than a brother, but not quite a lover. Was D'Argo going to leave next?

She wanted to stay in her room until after he'd gone, but in the end she was in the maintenance bay as he and little Brennik boarded the transport pod. He was even leaving behind his beloved module.

She hugged and kissed Brennik and felt John's arms around her, trying to comfort her. "I love you Pip. Maybe someday, when I can handle..." His words ended on a choke and his arms fell away. She listened as they departed, part of her leaving with them.

Moya had never felt so empty before.

"We're here," D'Argo informed her, pulling her back to the present. Grumbling under her breath, she followed D'Argo into the building. Time to hear the bad news once more.

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It was a beautiful clear blue day. Tomorrow the sky would be violet, the next day, pink. Blue was her favorite and Mia sighed wistfully as she looked out the window next to her loom. Her fingers expertly manipulated the threads, and the intricate pattern emerging in the cloth went undamaged by her lack of concentration.

"I heard that," her husband, Nepehi said from across the room. He sat at their all-purpose table, a magnifying glass suspended over one eye by a headpiece. He was in the process of putting the final touches on the beautiful timepiece for grouchy Mr. Mclelan down the road.

Her attention was momentarily diverted as she watched his busy, long grey fingers. They could manipulate her just as expertly as they were manipulating that clock. He smiled with dark grey lips, knowing she was watching and where her thoughts were traveling, and briefly lifted black eyes to her. "You know I'm behind schedule. St'nlee has been waiting for his Assistor for two weekens already."

"But, it's blue!" she cajoled, gesturing out the window with hand and tossing her long blond hair over her shoulder with the other. It was a strategic move, knowing how much he loved her hair, and she was pulling out every trick she could think of. "You know it's my favorite." She turned blue eyes to him, batting her eyelashes delicately. She was probably overplaying her hand, but... it was blue!

He raised one dark grey eyebrow in amusement, smiling indulgently. "All right, Mia. Let me finish this, and then we'll deliver it on our way to a picnic." Her smile was reward enough to justify the small delay. "But, when we get back, I HAVE to work on the Assistor."

Her face felt as if it might split in half, but she couldn't contain her smile. "That's perfect. I'll be able to finish this cloth." She paused for a microt before continuing. "It's not just for me, you know. Shedya hasn't been out of this house in days."

Nepehi laughed. "Shedya is only three monens old. I doubt he's noticed, or even cared."

"Well, I do."

"I know Mia," he responded. "That's one of the things I love about you. You always notice, and you always care." He didn't look up from his project, but the loving words washed over her, making her feel cherished. Tears sprang to her blue eyes and she had to fight to keep them in check.

---------------------------------------------------

Even with her pants on, the diagnosan's examining table was cold. They were always cold. The frelling room was always cold. She shivered slightly and wished she'd brought her jacket. She briefly thought about sending D'Argo back to Lo'Laa for it, but that would mean calling him back into the examining room. It had taken her longer than she would have liked to convince him to wait in the adjoining room. She was tired of his hovering; it made her feel claustrophobic.

She heard a door open and felt the two presences enter the room. Two distinct sets of footsteps came toward her. "Hello," a woman's voice greeted. "I am the diagnosan's assistant, Hilameen. I am going to touch you now."

Chiana nodded consent and felt a warm hand placed on her shoulder, gently urging her to lay back. Familiar with the routine, Chiana knew the fastest way to get this over with was to be as cooperative as possible, so she did everything asked of her willingly. The woman needlessly explained each familiar test as it was performed. Chiana felt her eyes opened and examined, dutifully looking left and right, up and down when asked.

As she answered various routine questions, she heard equipment wheeled closer and knew from past descriptions from D'Argo what each machine looked like and what their functions were. Finally, she felt the diagnosan put a hand on either side of her head, gently massaging her temples.

The diagnosan's singsong voice chirped, and Chiana knew the exam was over. This was the part where she was told there was nothing they could do. Trying not to let the same disappointment engulf her, she told herself it didn't matter. She had already known what the results would be when she'd gotten here, so she wasn't losing anything new.

"He says there's a way to restore your eyesight," the woman translated. Chiana nearly fell off the table. "It involves a transplant of both eyes. He feels the receptors in your brain are fine, but your eyes have been damaged."

"A transplant. That... that means you need a donor. I can't take someone else's eyes!" An entirely new and different misery crowded out every other emotion. There was a way for her to see again, but it was unobtainable.

"He only takes donations from somebody who is already deceased."

"I've heard THAT before."

"Every one of them has already signed a waiver in advance granting permission." Chiana's hopes soared. If there was a willing don... "Unfortunately, we do not have any compatible samples in stock right now. He says that your eyes are not getting any worse, and if you check with us at a later date, or give us a means of contacting you, that we'll perform the operation when we've received the correct tissues."

"Yeah... sure." Chiana mentally picked her shattered hopes from the floor. The likelihood of them receiving a Nebari donor was laughable. "Thanks."

She gave them the information they needed and then climbed from the table, dreading the upcoming interview with D'Argo. Now she'd never be able to convince him to quit dragging her from healer to healer. Maybe she wouldn't tell him. After all, she was the master of lying, wasn't she?