Title: A Season In Hell
Author: Harper's Cat
Archive: Beka MP3 and Mercury's Winter. Anyone else, please ask, you know I'll say yes.
Disclaimer: I don't own Andromeda or any of its characters. I don't make any money from this; I just like to torture them.
Rating: PG for mild bad language
Setting/Season: Season Five
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Comments/Feedback: Don't forget to feed the Cat!
Summary: Harper angst.
A/N: The title kinda sums up my feelings about season 5 so far but the title is actually from a book I read many, many years ago.

I waited and you never came
I watched you never showed
My heart shattered
I stopped looking up
I settled down, gave up hope
I clung to ruins of my past
Like a man lost at sea clings to bits of wreckage
I hid all that I had, all that I had been
Gave my hopes and dreams to the wind
Left my tears and screams to the night's shadow
Then you were there like a dream
A tangible bit of nightmare
Why now? I cried, I learned to live without
Lost so long ago but you still looked the same
I ached to touch you, yearned for that which had been
But nothing lasts forever; absence hadn't made your heart grow fonder
And so I stand, watching as I lose you yet again
Even when you're here, you're gone
I am overshadowed by myself,
You want what I can do, not who I am
Did you forget how you said you'd never leave me?
You haven't left, but still you're gone.

"You are the last."
- Magog raider – Season Four Finale

I'm alive, you can't be dead.

For years that belief kept me alive, kept me going but you never came for me and I began to accept the fact you were dead and I was alone again. I promised myself I would never again care about someone who could leave me, someone who could die. I'd survived Earth and I would survive here. I made a life for myself; I did what I had to do to stay alive.

Now you're back from the dead and I don't know what hurts more, to have lost you or to have a stranger here beside me who looks exactly like the person I loved.

It's like a season in Hell. I hate this place; I hate what it has made us, what we've become. Everything is broken and the pieces don't fit any more and when I try to put them back together again I get cut on the edges. I tried to make things good again, I really did but I don't have all the pieces and this time I can't make something out of nothing.
I'd give anything to have things back they way they were. We used to have a purpose beyond our own selfish goals. We looked out for each other, but now we're looking to see what we can take not for what we can give. If we are going to be here for the rest of our lives can't we be friends again?

Customers were few tonight. A strange and violent storm had settled over the town and most of the inhabitants had decided staying inside was the safest thing to do.
Wind howled down the narrow twisting streets and lightning flashed across the sky.

Harper busied himself by wiping the counter and polishing the glasses. Occasionally he straitened the bottles of liquor arranged on the countertop. He glanced over at the only occupied table. Beka and Dylan sat eating the goulash he'd made from leftovers of last night's dinner. They always complained about the food but no one ever turned it down.

"Penny for your thoughts." Doyle offered.

Harper flinched; he hadn't heard her come in from the back room.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

Harper, tossed the rag over his shoulder and started stacking the glasses, "You didn't scare me, I was just thinking."

"About?"

"Nothing important. It sure is quiet." He grinned.

"Isn't it an old belief that saying that will make things not quiet anymore?"

"Yes, and that's what I'm hoping for."

A heavy gust of wind suddenly blew the doors open and lightning struck the porch outside. The glare blinded everyone and the crashing thunder deafened them to the shattering glass.

"Trouble." Doyle said.

"Huh?" Harper's ears were still ringing but his eyesight was returning.

Doyle nodded toward the front door and Harper could make out Dylan crouched over something lying on the floor just inside.

"What is that?" Harper rubbed at his eyes, it didn't help much.

Dylan stood up carrying the object and as he approached the bar Harper could see that Hunt was carrying an unconscious woman.

"She's hurt. Harper, get some water and bandages." Dylan pushed past him to the living quarters in the back.

Beka smiled and shrugged at him, "It's Dylan's lot in life to always rescue the damsels in distress." She clapped a hand on his shoulder. "I'm heading back to the Maru, make sure everything is closed up tight."

"See you in the morning?"

"Sure. 'Night Harper."

Harper gathered the items Dylan had requested and went back where he found Dylan had put the woman on his bed.

Seeing Harper's scowl Dylan said, "We all make sacrifices."

"Some of us more than others." Harper grumbled, handing the bandages over and setting a bowl of water on the table. He glanced at the woman and felt an irrational stab of hatred. "I've got a mess to clean up out front, if you need anything else Doyle can get it for you."

Dylan looked at him curiously as he walked away. "What was that all about?"

Back out front Harper got the broom and dustpan from behind the bar and started sweeping up the broken glass from the windows.

Doyle stood in the doorway, "Harper, come look at this."

He dumped the glass in the trashcan and joined her out on the porch.

"Have you ever seen anything like that?" She asked.

Dirty gray fog swirled along the streets, gathering in heavy patches around doorways and window frames.

"There's no wind." Doyle pointed out, "and yet it's moving rapidly."

"Towards us." Said Harper.

The vapor advanced, tendrils creeping up and pooling on the burned patch where the lightning had struck earlier. The miasma swirled and eddied like a pot of boiling water. Harper reached out and stuck his finger into it and the mist clung to him and curled up his hand and arm. Doyle jerked him away from it and he wiped his hand on his pants and shivered.

"Are you alright?" Doyle asked.

"Yeah." Harper wiped his hand again, and then held it up, looking at it. "Cold and greasy."

Doyle arched an eyebrow.

"That stuff." Harper pointed at the fog that had settled into a twisting column. "It feels cold and greasy." He rubbed his hand together. "I gotta go wash."

Doyle grabbed his hand, she couldn't detect a residue on his skin but he felt cold to the touch.

"I think we should stay inside." She said.

"Yeah." Harper was uncharacteristically subdued as they returned to the bar.

"I'll fix the windows." Doyle offered, "You go get some rest, you seem tired."

Harper laughed bitterly, "Rest, yeah, right."

Doyle went to the storeroom to get some lumber to cover the windows with. As she picked up the wood she noticed a decrease in her tactile sensations. "That's odd. Perhaps I need to wash my hands too."

Harper went back to the living quarters and deliberately avoided looking at Dylan and the woman. He lay down on Doyle's bed with his back toward them. His hands were cold and he shoved them under the pillow, it smelled faintly of the android, a light floral scent that he found comforting. He could hear Dylan speaking softly to the woman and her equally soft responses. They were speaking too quietly for him to make out more than a couple of words.
'Don't mind me, just go ahead and bang her right here and now Captain Hotpants.' Harper thought. His stomach cramped and he curled up shivering miserably. His hands felt like they were covered in ice.

"Are you sick?" Dylan asked.

"What do you care?" Harper tried to sound angry but the chattering of his teeth ruined it.

Dylan ignored the retort, "Do you want me to get Doyle?"

"She's busy."

Dylan came over and tugged the blankets up over the engineer.

For reasons he didn't understand Harper began to cry.

"Harper?" Dylan asked, "What's wrong?"

"Don't touch me." Harper sobbed. "I don't want you to touch me."

This dark is a place I can't escape would you leave me here
Lying in wait strangled by fate would you even care
This is my cure this is my life this is my Christ my crown of thorns
This is the way the way that I die, die and be reborn.

A cool hand soothed the ache that had settled behind his eyes.

"He's burning up."

"Don't touch him." Doyle said angrily. "Both of you just get away from him."

"Doyle…" Dylan turned to the android.

"Now!" she drew her gauss gun and pointed at the woman who sat on the bed next to Harper. "Go!"

"You're not helping him." The woman accused. "I was trying to make him more comfortable."

"Take it easy Doyle." Dylan held his hands up, palms out, "We're not hurting him."

"I said," Each word was clear and hard as she motioned them away with her gun. "Get. Away. From. Him."

Dylan kept himself between Doyle and the woman as they moved away from Harper. Doyle never took her eyes off them, nor did she holster her weapon as she settled on the bed next to Harper.

"Shhh, it's okay Harper. I'm here now." She pulled him into her arms, and glared at Dylan. "Leave."

"But…"

"Get. Out."

"Going." Dylan and the woman went back out to the bar. "I'm sorry Nathara, I don't know what's come over them. They're usually more friendly."

She smiled, "Don't worry about it, they probably just need some rest."

"So do you. We could go back to my place…"

Nathara stroked his cheek with her hand, "That would be very nice." She had a strange accent, dragging out the last word like a hiss.

At the door they collided with Beka who staggered back inside.

"God, it's cold out there." She said, her hands tucked tightly under her arms. "Where are you going?"

"I'm taking Nathara back to my place, Harper's not feeling very sociable right now."

Beka scrubbed her hands together, "If you've done anything to …"

Dylan held up a hand, "I haven't done anything to that ungrateful little mudfoot."

"How dare you!" Beka raised a hand to slap Dylan but Nathara stepped between them and caught Beka's wrist.

"Take it easy," Nathara hissed, "The little one already has someone protecting him."

Beka yanked her arm free, glaring at Nathara. "Bitch." She spun and stomped off to the back rooms.

"I don't know what's gotten in to them." Said Dylan.

"Don't worry yourself," She wrapped her arms around his waist, "There are much more important things for man like yourself to be thinking about."

"Dylan?"

Hunt looked up to find Trance starring worriedly at him.
Nathara hissed like an angry cat as the golden woman laid her hand on Dylan's arm.

"What's going on?" Trance asked, "Why is everyone so upset?"

"You." Nathara's voice was filled with hatred. "You have no place here." She leaned her head against Dylan's chest and pushed against him, moving him away from Trance's touch.

Trance looked into Nathara's eyes, softly she said, "The dead have no fears."

Nathara began to cry, "Oh I feel so ill." She looked up at Dylan, "Can't we go? Please?"

Dylan smiled, "Of course Nathara. You've been through quite a lot today, you need to rest."

"Dylan, don't go with her." Trance pleaded.

"Why not?"

"Because it's…" Trance looked confused, "She's dangerous."
"Trance," Dylan laughed, "Nathara isn't dangerous."

"Run along, creature." Nathara growled, "He's mine. They all are."

Trance looked frightened, "What have you done?"

"I did nothing to them. They are as they always have been."

Dylan grinned like an idiot, "Come on Nathara, let's go. We'll talk about this later all right, Trance? Nothing to worry about."

Nathara's smile was evil as she and Dylan turned to go. Trance shivered, uncertain of what action she should take. She felt that there was danger all around her.

Dying to touch you I need you I love you
to make me to mold me to break me again
I can't deny that I'm hurting inside as
I'm pulling you close you push me away

Beka stopped, seeing Doyle cradling Harper. "Harper?" she asked tentatively, "Doyle what's going on? Is he hurt?"

"I've got him, he'll be all right." Doyle rocked back and forth, humming. "You can go back to the Maru."

Beka stood next to the bed, rubbing her hand on her pants, "I… I want to stay here." Her voice was shaky. "Please, don't make me go."

"Are you feeling okay Beka?"

"I'm cold."

Doyle reached out and pulled Beka down to sit on the bed beside her. "Did you get caught in the fog?"

"More like it caught me." Beka shivered. "I tried to get back to the Maru but the fog was so heavy and cold." She wrapped her arms around Harper and snuggled against him like a security blanket. "I don't want to be alone."

Harper curled up against Beka as Doyle released her hold on him. "You stay with him, I've got some things to do." She stood up and wrapped the blankets around Beka and Harper. "Trance?" Doyle saw her standing in the doorway. "What's wrong?"

"Everything." She replied sadly, "It's all wrong and I don't know what to do."

"I want you to stay… stay…" Doyle twitched, "stay you here."

"Doyle?" Trance caught the android as she stumbled.

"Must fix." Doyle's voice faded in and out. "Fix things me ship."

"You want me to help you?"

"Fix. Not. Me." Doyle looked horrified. "Failure."

"What should I do?"

"Oh… Oh…. Oh… Pen." Doyle stuttered.

"Open?" Trance asked, "Open what?"

"Her."

"Who her?" Trance panicked. "Oh I'm not good at these kind of games!"

"Get. Out."

"You want to leave or you want me to leave?"

Doyle pulled free of Trance's hands, "Her." The android staggered out of the room and Trance watched helplessly.

"Where are you going?"

"Trance!" Beka cried. "Trance help me!"

Beka held Harper as he began to seize violently. His eyes had rolled back and blood dripped between his tightly clenched teeth.

"Harper no!" Trance caught his face between her hands trying in vain to hold him still. His fever burned against her skin.

Harper went limp in Beka's arms, his eyes staring at nothing.

"Harper?" Beka shook him but he didn't even blink. "Seamus?"

"No… oh no." Trance whispered.

Beka looked at her, tears streaming down her face. "He's dead?" she clutched him tightly, burying her face against his hair and sobbing loudly. "NO!"

As I look just to find my existence and open my eyes
I can't breath as you push me aside
Now I feel that it's time to die as I realize how you let me believe in a lie
As I struggle with both hands and
I try to arise from the sadness inside of myself

Doyle found it difficult to walk and to focus her eyes on where she was going. She staggered and fell several times. She pulled herself upright and continued deeper into the tunnels under the bar. She fell again as she reached the lab. It was several minutes before she could see again and even then she felt so weak it was hard for her to pull herself up to the control board. She triggered the sequence and the panel slid open.

Rommie glared at her, "Murderer."

"If. I. Must." Doyle said. She slammed her hand against the panel again and again until it broke open.

"It doesn't have to be this way." Rommie said.

"Not if I can help it." Doyle seemed to have gained some power from the destruction of the panel. There was shower of sparks as she shoved her hand deep into the wires.

Rommie's eyes widened, "What are you doing?"

"Making things right."

An explosion rocked the lab, sending everything into darkness.

Dylan felt strangely euphoric, he felt like laughing or dancing or even both and he couldn't explain why.

"I like your smile." Nathara said.

"Just my smile?" he asked, opening the door and leading her into his room.

"I haven't seen everything." Nathara's smile made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "Why don't we get more comfortable?" she sat on the bed and patted the blanket beside her. "Come, sit with me."

Dylan hesitated and she laughed, "I won't bite you." Nathara lay back on the bed, stretching sinuously. "Unless you want me to."

Dylan lay down on the bed beside her and Nathara slid her hands under his shirt. Dylan flinched at the chill of her skin.

"Sorry, you know what they say; warm hands - cold heart." She kissed him and the heat of her mouth and salty flavor of her tongue surprised Dylan. His lips tingled and his tongue felt like it was on fire. He was suffocating in her kisses, literally. His breath caught in his throat, fingers tangling in Nathara's coarse hair.

She laughed in his mouth as he struggled to breathe.

I cannot breathe I'm burning alive cause I've lived through a season in hell
Look, look at my face shaded in gray wasting away I'm almost gone
I can't replace this empty space you left me all alone
Why can't you see me I'm hanging here bleeding
it's tortured and twisting my insides apart,
laughing and crying as everything's dying in me
and it's breaking my heart

Trance watched the possibilities fly past her like ravens. Nothing seemed sure except that she and Beka were alone.
Harper was dead. The fever that had killed him left his body cold in Beka's arms.

Dylan was dead. His lips were blue, eyes bloodshot and staring.

Doyle was completely destroyed. Nothing remained of her.
Rhade was missing. No one knew where he was, what had happened to him.

This was wrong, it shouldn't be like this.

Trance shivered, feeling cold for the first time in ages. "Beka?"

"It's not possible." Beka's voice was muffled, her face still buried in Harper's hair. "I was holding him." She looked at Trance, eyes full of pain and guilt. "I promised."

"We have to go Beka."

"I can't leave him."

"He's gone Beka, just let him go."

"But I promised!" She cried.

"I know." Trance helped Beka to her feet and together they arranged Harper on the bed.

With gentle fingers Beka closed Harper's eyes. She pulled the blanket up over him, folding it under his chin. Except for the tracks of blood on his lips he looked to be peacefully asleep.

"He looks so young." She kissed his forehead. "I loved you." She whispered against his cheek. "I'm so sorry."

"It's time to go."

Beka turned backed for one last look as Trance led her out. Hungry gray shadows seemed to swallow the engineer's body.
"Where are we going?" Beka asked.

Trance removed a flashlight from behind the bar. "There may still be time."

"Time for what?"

"To save Dylan."

"Save Dylan?" Beka laughed humorlessly. "Save him from what? His gigantic ego? His rampant libido? I think it's far past too late for that."

Trance grabbed Beka's arm, "I know you're hurting and you're angry but you must believe me when I tell you that this was not Dylan's fault."

Beka pulled away, "It's all Dylan's fault. I wish I'd never laid eyes on him."

Save me now
I'm in the shadow of your love
Can you feel your life pass you by
Can you see the sun in the sky
Life is calling you again, again
Can you feel the end?

They looked like lovers, lying close together in satiated bliss. His fingers were still in her hair, his eyes starring directly into hers. He was strong; fighting the poison, most men by now had closed their eyes and given up on even trying to draw a breath into lungs that were filling with blood.

Nathara liked this one; he was taking a long time to die. She had the opportunity to watch the tiny blood vessels in his eyes break and bleed, to hear each hard fought for breath escape his lungs. She smiled, already he smelled like the grave that awaited him.

His eyes were strange though, in them she did not see the fear and hate that all the others had held. His contained an emotion she had only the vaguest of memories of. It was disconcerting, made her feel… guilty and sad. She tried to close his eyes but the lids were frozen open by the very toxin that should have sealed them shut.

It was dark and cold here. He tried to sit up; his body was stiff and ached. There was something important he had to do but the harder he tried to focus on what it was the more elusive it became. His chest burned. Breathe, that was what he needed to do!

It hurt, but it eased the burning sensation. He could see a little better now, gray shapes all around him. The chill was still there, deep in his hands and feet, even his face. He forced his body to move, to sit up and discard the blanket that covered him.

This would be his last chance; never again would he have the strength, the opportunity to intervene. All would be lost if he did not succeed this time. He could feel her, the cold anger that filled her, the hate that spilled from her like venom. If he could, he would have wept but there was no moisture left in this body. His presence had been too much for the frail, undernourished body; it had failed under the trauma of the transfer. Another death on his conscious, one more innocent life destroyed because of him.

Love is a battlefield
We are strong, no one can tell us we're wrong
Searchin' our hearts for so long, both of us knowing
We're losing control
Love is a battlefield

Old Earth lyric

The expression in his eyes unnerved her and she grew angry, "Do you want to know why?" She caressed his face, "Your reputation precedes you, Captain. How many hearts have you left behind you, broken and alone?" Her thumbnail cut into the skin below his eye, "How many woman cry because of your fear of being old and unloved?"

Reluctantly Beka followed Trance out into the empty and eerily quiet streets. It took only moments for them to reach Dylan's. Standing in the doorway, they could see Nathara and Dylan on the bed.

"Okay, he's dead, let's go." Beka said.

Nathara's cold laughter stopped her, "He's still alive but you're too late to save him."

"Why are you doing this?" Trance asked, walking closer.

Nathara didn't take her eyes from Dylan, "Because I can."

"Who are you?" Trance asked, "What are you?"

Nathara pulled free of Dylan's grasp, leaving strands of her hair caught in his fingers. When she faced them her eyes had turned a milky white. It made Beka step back and hold tightly to Trance's arm.

"I am fate," she blinked and her eyes turned blue, "and vengeance."

Grey fog rolled into the room, swirling around their feet and up on the bed.

Nathara laughed as the mist coiled around her.

"Shupanessa, please don't do this."

Nathara's face was an ugly mask of fury, "Who are you that calls my true name?"

Beka gasped and pulled her gauss gun, aiming it at the man who stepped past her.

"Shupa, it's me."

"No one calls me that!" Nathara screamed, "No one!" she leaped off the bed, fingers curled into claws and attacked the man who staggered back under her weight.

"Harper?" Beka gasped. "How?

When he faced her, his face was slack; his eyes swirled with gray mist. "I'm sorry." His voice was gravelly, "I never meant to cause his death." He turned his attention back to the woman who continued to attack him, "Shupanessa, you must stop this."

"I am the hunter!" she raked her nails across his cheek leaving bloodless furrows. "I kill the breaker of hearts!"

"I didn't want to leave you Shupanessa." He pinned her arms, staring into her eyes. "I was murdered."

Nathara stopped struggling to get free and stared at him, "Jaemon?"

"Nariomen killed me the night I left your house."

"No." She said softly, "Nariomen said you'd left me and taken Mioshek for your bride."

"He killed Mio too, because she refused him."

"You lie!" she pushed him away and he stumbled back into Beka who caught him.

"What the hell is going on?" Beka asked.

"There has been too much death Shupanessa, too much killing." His voice grew stronger. "I can't allow you to continue."

Nathara's eyes narrowed, "And you think you can stop me, dead thing?"

"I loved you more than my own life Shupa." He moved toward her and the fog grew heavy around them. "Forgive me."

Trance started toward Dylan and Nathara grabbed her.
"You have fears, I can kill you." Nathara dug her nails into Trance's arm and Trance collapsed.

"No!" Beka shouted.

Nathara's attack sent Beka to the floor beside Trance.
The fog closed in around them and Nathara screamed angrily. "I will not be defeated!"

The fog swirled around her, filling her eyes, nose and mouth.

"Love is stronger than hate, fiercer than vengeance and sharper than lies. Join me Shupa. Let us be together as we should have been."

Harper pulled the woman tight against him, his lips sealed against hers. Slowly the two of them slid to the floor, still twined in each other's arms.

Beka sat on the floor, cradling the unconscious Trace. She watched fearfully as Harper and Nathara grew silent and still. Beka cried, "This is just a dream, just a bad dream!" She collapsed on the floor, "Let me wake up, let me wake up!"

OOoO

"Beka?"

She opened her eyes, "Hmmm?" Trance was sitting on the edge of the bunk, looking at her worriedly.

"Are you okay Beka?" Trance asked.

Beka lurched out of the bed, "Harper! Where's Harper?"

"Take it easy, Harper's out front with Doyle."

"I have to se him." Beka insisted. "I have to make sure he's alive."

"What are you talking about? Of course Harper is alive."

Beka ran out to the front, skidding to a halt as she saw Harper behind the bar with Doyle and arguing with Rhade. Harper laughed nervously as she threw her arms around him, hugging him tight.

"You alright?" Harper asked.

"Now that I know you are." She stared into his eyes, looking for traces of gray.

"You're freakin' me out boss."

"Sorry." She said sheepishly.

Harper hugged her back, whispering in her ear in a gravelly voice that raised the hairs on Beka's neck. "I'm sorry, I never meant for this to happen. Forgive me?"

Beka pulled away, watching the gray swirl in Harper's eyes. "Yes." She said softly. She sighed, smiling as the mist cleared from his eyes. "Everything is okay now."