Beginnings: a sequel to Ends
By Gumnut
21 Nov 2002

If there is an end, there must have been a beginning. But does the beginning come before the end, or the end before the beginning?

He was twitching in his sleep.

She watched as one eye squinted, followed by the other, creasing his forehead into a frown. Every now and again an arm or leg would flinch as if from a blow or an aborted action. He was very rarely still.

She was familiar with this state. Her John had often come out of it screaming. This John, a John she desperately wanted to be her John, was no different. Exactly, no difference.

He shuddered suddenly, moaning quietly. Without thought, she reached over and gently touched his brow, running her fingers softly across his temples and down his jawline. He seemed to lean into her touch, slipping into a quieter slumber, reassured by her presence.

She didn't know why she was here, she just was. She came at night, just to see him. That first night after his return to Moya, she had watched him from the doorway as he tossed and turned. He had called her name that night, desperate in his sleep. He had screamed out Scorpius' a microt later.

She had regrets, many regrets. Things she could have done differently haunted her. Her past uncertainty plagued her. Her love taunted her.

She had him so close, yet he was so far. Closed off from her. He had been through so much and survived, yet she had managed to break him in the end. She who loved him had snapped that last twig. And now he fled.

She had been so elated and yet so terrified when he returned to Moya. His look of joy at seeing her had wrenched her heart. For a moment, just looking at him, she could have believed everything was going to be all right. But as he said those words, she knew she was about to wound him deeply, and it broke her heart.

The look on his face as he flickered from his first sight of Scorpius back to her – a look of terror, fearful questioning, and betrayal – hurt her no less than when she twisted the knife and tore his promise from him, the tears shining in his eyes.

Yes, she had broken him, and knew not how to fix it.

So she came to him at night, sitting beside him while he slept, watching the play of emotion as his dreams and nightmares visited him. This was the only time she could be really near him. He had been avoiding her when he could.

He shuddered again, mumbling her name, whimpering in his sleep. A soft touch to his brow quieted him again.

She shivered. The air was cool and the floor cold on her bare feet. She knew she should leave, but the thought of another sleepless night alone in her cell with only her thoughts for company…..no, she could stay a little longer…..

xxxxx

"Aeryn! No, NO!"

She startled awake. Awake? She must have fallen asleep. John was almost shouting, tossing his head, calling her name in his sleep. She knelt at the side of the bed, quietly shushing him, barely daring to touch him, terrified she would wake him.

She didn't. He responded to her touch, quieted once again, a gentle sigh escaping his lips.

She got up to leave, mentally berating herself for falling asleep, grateful he hadn't woken to find her there, worried at his reaction if he did. She quietly headed for the door.

"Aeryn." She froze. He was awake. She turned to find two crystal blue eyes staring at her above the coverlet.

He said two words. "Thank you."

She didn't have an answer, so she just nodded, her throat tight. His eyes closed and his head tilted back into sleep.

She turned and left quietly, walking down the corridor, ignoring the tear tracks on her face. She needed some sleep. Tomorrow, tomorrow was another day.

xxxxx
FIN