Thoughts
by Gumnut
29 Jun 2002
I used to look at the stars with wonder, now I only look at them and wonder why. Why this, why that, why everything. And, of course, why me?
What demented twist of fate saw me to be flung to this ass end of the universe anyway? I was happy, top of my field, a top-notch fly-boy. All those years of study, hard work, for what? I can see the headline now, 'Loser astronaut lost in space'. And three pages into the classifieds, a little two liner, 'Help wanted. Astronaut seeks way home. Call 555-WHO-KNOWS-WHERE.'
It just isn't fair.
Oh, that's original, John, can't you think of a more creative way to whine?
Shut up, Harvey, today is not a good day to mess with me. Leave me to my misery.
John, your self pity is becoming a real pain in the cooling rods.
Piss off.
I'm only trying to help.
Help? Help! You help me? This is all your frelling fault. Yours and that demented original of yours. Things were hard enough to begin with, but no, you had to make it harder. You and your frelling wormholes. Hounding me wherever I go. You're in my head, for God's sake. GO AWAY!
Silence
Blessed silence. But silence is not longer silent in my mind. It whispers in the dark, haunts behind my eyes, lingers on my lips, one word, one name…Aeryn.
She was hope. Now I have none left.
She is gone. And that's all folks.
xxxxx
The corridors of the dying leviathan are always quiet. No noise and clutter of a crew, no running feet, no merriment, no tears, nothing. With one exception.
The terrace was not as healthy as it had once been, the arching viewport crusted with age in places, but for the most part the view was still awesome. Leviathan sacred space, with its vistas of nebulae and stardust swirling slowly past.
The lone figure lying on the floor seemed ignorant of the beauty surrounding him. His face betrayed an internal struggle and his hand twitched restlessly towards the pulse pistol on his thigh.
She came to him in his dreams.
xxxxx
John, what are you doing?
I'm pining, Aeryn. Like a dog.
A pointless effort.
Same thing could have been said about everything I've done since I arrived in this dead end of the universe, so what's new?
Shouldn't you be doing something?
What? You left, D'Argo left, Chiana left, hell, even Sparky left. And Moya…well, I can't do anything for Moya now.
You're pathetic, John.
Yep, you got that right.
xxxxx
He didn't have any alcohol, but he found after awhile that he didn't really need it. When your mind has been frelled with as many times as his had, a self-induced stupor isn't that hard to create. And he did it often. As often as it took to forget.
So he lay on his back staring out at the stars through the fogged lenses of the terrace, having conversations with himself, as that was his only company.
xxxxx
So, Harv, what do you think of our predicament?
Typical, John.
I have to agree with you on that one. How would you rate being stuck alone on a dying leviathan in the middle of nowhere up against the events of the last cycle or so?
We've been in worse, John, I have to say. How about a five?
Yes, definitely a five. Doesn't live up to floating in space above a flaming moon, spacing without a suit, or shaking your butt-ugly counterpart's hand.
I could start taking that personally, John.
Go for it, Harv.
xxxxx
Pilot sometimes managed to engage him in conversation. He did rouse himself to help out and make repairs as often as needed, but it was automaton-like.
Pilot didn't know what had tormented their lone passenger to this point. He refused to talk about it, sketching out his origins in the most basic concepts he could. Tired though she was, Pilot often wished she could help him. He was lost within himself and it seemed nothing she did could draw him out.
Perhaps it is the way his species deals with pain.
xxxxx
It is not much to ask for really is it? A home, a family and safety. I've never really wanted much. Of course, I worked hard to get to the point of being one of those few humans who made it into space. But academics aside, the one thing I have really wanted was a family. Funny, you don't realize these sort of things until they are out of your grasp, when you have no hope of actually attaining that goal. As Harv said, 'Typical'. Certainly for John Robert Crichton, nothing is ever easy.
Ironically, I could say that I do have a family, genetically at least. Pot luck if I'll ever meet any of them. Talk about doing a Jim Kirk, lovem' and leavem', well…at least he got the love bit.
John, now you are just being ridiculous.
In what way, Sunshine?
I did love you, you know.
You loved him, Aeryn.
I loved John Crichton.
You still left. Left me like this. Not telling me about the child.
I had to go, John, you know that.
Knowing doesn't make it any easier.
xxxxx
She had seen the Human withdraw further and further into himself, and despaired. He lay on the terrace, as he often did, mumbling incoherently to himself. Sometimes he would hum a tune, sometimes he was silent. Always he was in pain. Though her senses were blurred with age, she could feel it radiating from him in waves.
Some she could determined was homesickness. She had felt that herself not long after separating from her mother over three hundred cycles ago. The rest she did not know, only knowing that it was vast deep and despairing.
An odd though occurred. Perhaps he lacked companionship. She always had Pilot, she thanked the Builders many a time for her bonding. Who did he have? Had he ever had a companion like Pilot? A being who knew his soul? She didn't know.
Pilot couldn't get a response, there was no one else on board, but perhaps she could help. Just a little.
xxxxx
I suppose it if I was back on Earth I would be confined to a looney bin, what's the bet? That could be a positive for being here, I suppose. But then again, I'm stuck here with my ugliest nemesis and the love of my life who couldn't love me enough to stay.
Now, I take serious offense at that, John, I'm not ugly.
Well, you ain't pretty.
Hmph.
John, stop torturing yourself this way, it's useless.
No, Aeryn, it's the truth, and as they say, the truth hurts.
Harvey, is he always like this?
A good percentage of the time, though more so lately since you left him.
So, it's my fault? At least I didn't mind frell him like you did.
I only did what I was created to do.
Yes, but look at him, you left him a mess. He's almost a drooling vegetable.
He didn't get that way until you frelled with his heart.
How poetic, Harvey, got anymore lines up your sleeve?
Guys, guys, guys! Just whose mind is this anyway? Both of you shut up. What is that noise?
xxxxx
The DRD whirred quietly onto the terrace, hesitated, then abruptly moved over to the prone figure on the floor. he was mumbling and humming to himself again. Both Elack and Pilot listened intently, not much translated well, a few names, but between the muttering a tune repeated over and over. It was not familiar to either Pilot or Elack but they recorded it anyway. Perhaps the tune from an unexpected source would be enough to snap him out of his fugue.
xxxxx
Music. It's music. Music from home. Tchaikovsky. 1812 overture. Where's it coming from?
It's not me.
That's not a surprise, Harv, shut up and let me listen.
It's time, John.
For what, Aeryn?
Time for you to return to the world. You have new friends to consider. Can't you here them calling?
I…can't…I want to go home.
Where is home but where you are?
Home is where…where my heart was…you left, remember?
I'm still out there, John. Remember fate.
Fate and frelling wormholes.
Remember fate.
xxxxx
The DRD backed up with a squawk when Crichton suddenly sat up.
"Hey, little guy, where'd you learn that?"
Ask a stupid question…
Go frell yourself, Harv.
"Pilot, is everything okay?"
"There are no problems, Commander, however Elack and I have been worried about you."
"Nothing you can do, Pilot, though, thanks for your concern."
Silence from the comms.
"Then again, it's been awhile since I've heard some familiar music. I didn't know DRD's could play audio like that."
"They can't. Elack made this one especially for you."
John's breath caught in his throat. New friends indeed…
"Give Elack my love. I really appreciate the gesture and I realize how much effort this must have cost her in her condition."
"I will, Commander. Will you be staying with us for a while?"
John had the distinct impression that Pilot wasn't referring to him leaving in his module.
"No promises, Pilot, but for now…here is home."
xxxxx
FIN.