A Man Will Rise

(Back to the Past)

John is nestled beneath the hull of Aeryn's Prowler, looking for something; he's just not exactly sure what.

Something's frelled…something's not right.

"Damn it's dark down here. Where the hell did I leave that flashlight?" He searches around with one hand in the dark; feeling up the floor clumsily as if it were his tenth grade girlfriend. He's sure it's around here somewhere, just a little bit further. He stretches his arm as far as he can when he feels the light gently placed in his hand.

"Looking for something?" his son questions good naturedly.

John peaks his head out from under the belly of the Prowler, to look straight up into D'Argo's face as he kneels at the edge of the ship.

"D', I knew I raised you well. You know right when to make an entrance." he laughs, voice muffled by the wrench clasped between his lips. "That'll come in handy with the ladies. You're obviously learning from your old man."

D'Argo laughs, sliding under the ship behind John.

"What are we looking for down here Dad?" he asks, hands on the underside of the Prowler feeling around for anything that might be out of place.

"Not sure yet. She's not running like she should. I know there's something out of whack. I just haven't found it yet," John mumbles as he quickly turns at a gear shaft on the rear of the drive belts.

"Why the Prowler? Is mom taking it out?" D' questions, a knowing tone in his voice.

John slides from under the ship, dragging his son out behind him by the leg. D' is baiting him and he knows it all too well.

"You talked to your mom?" John is serious now. His son looks down, breaking eye contact for just a microt, long enough for John to know that Aeryn has already confronted him about Taly.

She talked to him without me, fuck it all.

D'Argo looks up as he mindlessly plays with another wrench he's found on the floor. "Yeah, she talked to me earlier. Told me about the data chip from Jothee; I know what you're doing and I'm coming Dad." It's a statement, not a hint of question in his voice, merely determination and information.

Hard headed boy, just like his mother.

John smiles ironically, resting his thumb on his lower lip, a telling gesture D'Argo immediately recognizes as frustration or deep thought and he's pretty sure it's not the latter.

"She asked you to come? Did she ASK you D'Argo? Did she tell you what we'd be heading into to try and bring your sister back?" His voice is stern, full of underlying emotion. "This is your choice; you're old enough to decide this for yourself. But no one is forcing you to come. No one will think any less of you if you stay. Not your mother and not me."

D'Argo rests a hand on John's arm. "She asked me Dad. She asked me and I said I wanted to do this, I need to do this. She's my sister, and you're my parents and you're not going down there without me."

John smiles and can't help but laugh lightly. "Damn boy, has your mom been showing you video tapes of me when I was your age or something? I'm pretty sure I said that exact same phrase to my dad back in the day, except I think when I said it, it probably had something to do with spring break or a subject equally as life changing."

"Spreengbreak?" his son asks, confusion clouding his face.

"Just a vacation, a holiday back on Earth. Lots of barely dressed girls, sun, and the ocean," he winks at his son who flushes red in the cheeks, a reaction John knows he can pull out of the boy with the mere mention of a female.

"I'd like to go there," D' sighs, all serious, his mind on some girl that he left at his last school, John is sure of that and he can't help but chuckle at the predictable reaction.

"Someday, someday I'll get you there D'."

A deep, nervous breath rattles his chest. Is he actually letting this happen? This boy is sixteen, he's not a man. Sometimes it's hard for John to remember that D' has grown up out here, immersed in this life, not with his head full of comic books and movies, football and pizza like his own years growing up were spent.

"I know how you feel about this D', and we can use your help." John looks down and can't believe he just let those fucking words come out of his mouth. He fights back the quick wave of nausea that struggles to make itself known.

"I know you don't think I can do this dad, I know you don't think I can help, but I can. I want to and I can." His son says with a mixture of hurt and determination. D'Argo is so much like his mother, his dark hair and stoic face, strong features and a confident walk. John can't help but want to protect him in the same way that he does her, all of them, they are all part of her and if he has one purpose in his life after all of this. It is to keep her safe; to keep them safe.

"No, you're right D'. I don't think you can do this." John sighs, watching his son's face fall, his head down, and they sit silently for several microts. "I know you can do this. Look at me buddy," He continues drawing D'Argo's attention back to his face. "I'm proud of you and there is no doubt in my mind that you're ready for this."

There's that light in those blue eyes, the one he temporarily dimmed. John stands and reaches a hand out to pull D'Argo up with him; quickly dragging him into a tight hug. A "guy" hug that is, thick and secure, with a few pats on the back for good measure.

Let him go, let him be a man.

"Your mom and I talked to Jothee earlier, we're really close now D'." John states, trying to prepare his son for how soon they'll be in the middle of this, something much bigger than him, than his world up to this point.

"We're going to take the Prowler down to the planet and meet up with Jothee and his camp, but we can't drag them into this. I've already brought too much unwanted trouble on other people over time, and the fewer we are, the less noticeable we'll be. I'll take us in, you'll take us out. That means I need you ready in the Prowler to get us the hell off that planet as soon as you can. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, but I'm not just going to sit in the frelling Prowler and wait for you to get back Dad!" He's determined to prove himself to his father.

"No, no way. It's like your mom says; you're a better shot than me most of the time anyways, though I'm getting better," D' chuckles lightly. He's seen him in action and he must know that this is a sore spot between his parents. "I mean, at least I can graze the broad side of a barn now."

"I have no idea what you're talking about but something tells me the barn shouldn't be too worried; whatever it is," D'Argo teases prompting a quick, muscular arm around the neck and a mock choke hold from John.

"We'll see," John replies standing his son up straight before him. "This is serious stuff D'. I know you know this, but I need you to be ready. Go check your holster and make sure that your pulse pistol is dug out, cleaned, and the cartridges are full. Don't want to be caught in a pinch in a situation like we could possibly find ourselves in. Gotta make sure we cover all of the bases."

- -

This is a side of his father he's seen, but he's not used to. Worry clouds John's eyes and his grasp on D's arm is tight at the least. It's like he's trying to let go, but the overwhelming emotion is just causing a gut reaction to hold on tighter. D'Argo feels, for the first time, that he is the grounding rod for his parents.

Like he's the only one who can hold things together.

Like it's his responsibility to keep them strong and ready.

A task that he would have never seen coming, especially from his mother and father. They were his life, his heroes, and his protectors.

He will be ready. He will do this. It is his time to protect if he needs to, and he won't let them down.

- -

"A man will rise, a man will fall
From the sheer face of love, like a fly from the wall"

It's late, quiet and late.

There is no sound to be heard except the usual shifting and groans that accompany life on a Leviathan.

John has become as used to them as he was to the cycles of the air conditioner, the refrigerator, or the sound of birds outside the window at home. He feels that sudden hollowness of being homesick that seems to come less and less often these days. He has everything he has ever wanted, everything he could possibly ask for, but every once in a while he remembers how much he misses his home.

Dammit John.

The ocean, the green grass, his sister and dad, the smell of bacon and coffee in the morning, the pick up game of football with his buddies. He still misses Earth. He drums his fingers on the hard surface of the table, attempting to find an outlet for his frustration, for the nervous energy coursing through his veins.

Christmas, Thanksgiving, Summer, and Fall.

He quickly grows bored with the monotonous activity though. He grabs a random piece of paper with his earlier notes scribbled on it and begins to doodle. His doodling quickly takes the shape of a poorly drawn house, surrounded by trees, a car in the front yard, a normal life, the past.

He hears the door panel swing open behind him and knows Aeryn has vacated her perch in Pilot's den for the time being. She has to be tired; she's been there for arns.

John doesn't bother to look up, or turn around to let her know that he senses her presence. He's still a bit angry, a little bit hurt, that she went ahead and confronted D' without him. Something he had assumed they would do together she had taken upon herself without even telling him what her plans were. He feels her hands splay on his upper back, massaging tense muscles and his tired neck.

"I didn't think I'd find you here already," Aeryn states with a weary voice. It had been a long two days since they'd gotten this news that had the ability to change their lives…again.

"I can't think," he mumbles, looking up at the wall and not attempting to hide his frustration. Something she immediately picks up on.

"What's this?" Aeryn asks picking up the corner of his drawing and taking a closer look.

"It's nothing; I was just doodling, trying to clear my head a bit, that's all." He doesn't want to talk to her about it, about home, not now.

"It doesn't look like 'nothing' to me." Aeryn sets his paper back down and takes the seat on his other side, resting her hand on his forearm. "What's the matter John? And don't tell me you're just apprehensive about what we're about to do. I know it's more than that."

He sighs with a deep breath, nerves on edge. "Why did you talk to him without me? I thought we were going to do it together, or hell, that you would at least talk to me about it first Aeryn and you went and asked him, or told him maybe, on your own."

What the hell else would it be about?

She gently strokes his forearm, playing with several of the dark hairs that rest there. "First off, he was exercising and I just happened upon him this morning. Things are moving so fast, I figured, if we were going to give him time to decide this on his own, we needed to tell him as soon as we could. So I did. Second off," she starts, pulling the small tuft of hair she has found hard enough to emphasize her point and make him wince, flinching back.

"I didn't tell him John. I asked him. It was an agreement and I did exactly what you would have done in the situation."

John knows this is true, knows her well enough by now. Come to think about it, he's not really sure why he's angry after all. He does know he's not ready to let this drop though; he's too tired and unsettled to drop it.

"You still could have told me Aeryn, I mean…I wanted to be there, I needed to be there. I felt like I did at least. I'm his dad." He props his heavy head up with his hand and looks her in the eyes for the first time since she sat down next to him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize it meant that much to you," Aeryn counters, smoothing the mussed hair on his arm; speaking with a soft, low voice. "I wouldn't have brought it up if I did John. It's just that, the time seemed right and I had caught him before he was busy with his school work or trying to communicate with his friends. You know how hard it is to find him with a free microt these days. I just didn't think about it, didn't think you would mind, and I'm sorry."

John rests his head against hers, leaning forward, noses touching. "I know. I'm sorry; I don't know what's wrong with me. Everything is happening so fast, it's like I can't keep track of whether we're coming or going any more." His heart is heavy and before he knows what he's doing he's unloading every emotion that lies hidden just under the surface.

"What if this is wrong Aeryn, what if something happens to you or to D'? What if she's not there and this is our last chance? What if, what if I can't bring her back? I just started thinking. Thinking about it all, about the time that's passed, about home; I don't know if I can do this," He mumbles breaking.

For the first time since Taly had been taken from them, the first time Aeryn can remember in cycles, he breaks down before her eyes. This man, her supporter, her lover, her best friend, and her comforter, he has reached his limit. A solitary tear runs down his face, blue eyes lightening with sadness and insecurity. She didn't know how it was possible, but they got even bluer when he was emotional. She cups his cheeks in her hands, wiping the tear with her thumb, kissing him, tasting the salty sadness as it slips onto his lips.

"Look at me. You are the bravest man I have ever known John. You have shown me life; you have shown me how to live. No matter what happens now, no matter what happens in the future. I love you, I trust you, and will be right by you all the way. No matter what happens when we leave this ship tomorrow. No matter what you do, or what you've done. I love you John, damn you for it, but I love you." He can't help but laugh at her ways of expressing her feelings.

"Still not gonna let up with that whole 'I ruined your life' bit are you?" he says with a coy smile.

"Well, if the shoe fits; and besides John Crichton, you did ruin my life. You ruined my life, and then you gave me life. You're stuck with me now." She runs her hand over his shoulder attempting to make use of one of the many English phrases she's picked up from him over the cycles.

"Not such a bad thing to be stuck with, baby. I'll take it." He says taking her lips into his, his tongue insider her mouth.

Tasting her.

Breathing her.

Needing her.

Aeryn lifts his shirt over his head, unbuckles his belt, takes off his holster and he doesn't move a muscle. Watching her, making sure this is real; that she's really his. She takes his hand and leads them to the bed beckoning with soft covers and feathery pillows.

She reaches down to unlace and kick off her boots, stepping out of her leather pants with a grace that no one should have when performing such a mundane task. She bends down to untie his boots and he sits himself on the bed; reaching down to help her undo the last lace, but she pushes his hand away. She wants to do this herself, needs to do this to prove to him that she is his.

John rests his hands on her shoulders, brushing her hair back over firm muscle and sturdy bone. She stands in front of him, bringing his hands up to her shirt, guiding him to the hem of her tank, resting them flat on her stomach, covering them with her own hands. She guides his underneath her shirt, both of them sliding it up, over her head, off of her body as his tired mind starts reeling, working overtime with a fresh breath of energy.

Thank God for hormones.

Before he can even complete his task of getting rid of her shirt; her hands are down on his shorts, under the elastic, pulling them down to give her access to where she really wants to be. In microts, Aeryn has his shorts off and touches right where she knows it will bring him to immediate attention. He leans back on his elbows with a moan, taking her in, every single inch of her. Soft skin, lean muscles, long dark hair.

She climbs up on the bed and straddles his lap, pushing him fully back against the soft mattress. He doesn't resist, doesn't try to take control. He doesn't want control. This is one of the many things he loves about her; she doesn't need him to be in control. She is quite capable of that herself.

Aeryn's hands are on the bed on both sides of his head, positioning her directly over him, face to face, as he reaches his head up to take her lips again, pulling her down on top of him. Chests flush, breathing in unison. He reaches his hands down to take off what remains of her clothing, needing to feel every inch of her skin against his. He needs her, he needs her so badly.

He needs her presence, he needs her close, he needs her in his arms. He needs her just like this, nothing more, not tonight. He wants one night, before they leave the safety of this cocoon venturing into who the hell knows what once again.

One night that he can have her safe in his arms, breathing her, feeling her, completely enveloping her.

One sure way to know she's safe.

Aeryn notices his change in pace and, lifting herself up, she looks down at him with concern raising one hand to brush back her hair so she can get a better view of his face…his eyes.

"What's the matter?" she asks quietly, her elbow settling on the mattress, a thumb rubbing his lower lip. He doesn't answer, just lifts his finger up to her lips, quieting her questions.

"Don't talk," John grabs her arms urging her to take her weight off of them, and rest it fully on top of him. She lies against his chest, listening to his heart, caressing his hair, breathing his scent. He wraps his arms around her, holding her as close as he can possibly get her, not a micro-dench of space between them, not even room for air. Aeryn lifts her head up so she can look him in his eyes which are looking back at her, quiet, peaceful.

She sees the uncertainty resting there and suddenly understands his sudden change in mood. She kisses him soft yet deep expressing her empathy, her equal need for him, and rests her head against his chest closing her eyes. Safe, secure, loved.

John strokes her hair as he closes his eyes. His wife is in his arms, he doesn't need anything more right now. He's tired, so tired, he can feel sleep overtaking him as he strokes her back; breathing steady. And he slowly gives in to his exhaustion, dreams of home, and the ocean, and Aeryn in the sun urging him deeper and deeper into sleep.

- -

Another arn; that's all they need for Moya to work her way safely through the radiation field that they were dodging, and they'll be ready. They will have a clear shot to take the Prowler down to the planet unnoticed and undetected.

An arn isn't long. You had better frelling be ready.

Aeryn has already programmed the coordinates to the specific location that Jothee had given them for the make shift camp. They don't need more man power, but they do need a place where they can find refuge quickly if this ended up taking longer than they expected. Someplace safe; as safe as they can get that is. Someplace out of sight.

And the extra protection certainly won't hurt.

She twists a strand of hair in her fingers looking down at the hologram projected in front of her. Asteroids and radiation waves in bright blue and purple, large and three dimensional, yet small and right in front her eyes. She lifts a hand and runs it through the image, scattering it for a second before it falls back into place. Her mind is wandering, her nerves on edge. She struggles with the common yet conflicting feelings that bubble under the surface.

That itching desire to control her Prowler.

Flying free.

The feel of a loaded pulse pistol in her hands, not just in her holster.

Swift blasts of light sharp and on target.

The thrill of the uncertainty of battle.

The soldier in her scratching its way to the surface.

A microt later her mind is racing with images of her daughter, of John's face the first time he held the baby in his arms, of nursing her and caring for her. Of brushing her soft hair and the feel of a small fist clutching at her finger, at her sons finger. The smell of her little baby girl and the joy in her eyes.

She can't control the images any more, one microt here and the next microt there.

The joy of being a mother, the peace of that roll; compounded with the desire to fight.

To be a soldier.

Suddenly overtaken by the angry, scared feeling of knowing that her daughter was lost to her. She's back in that little village with the confused teacher's words ringing in her ears like gunfire.

"Frell me," she mumbles with a sigh. She has to find something to occupy her mind for the next arn. Something other than all of this insanity tumbling around in her tired brain. She looks over to the corner of Command where she finds Jack sitting on the ground, one of his models his right hand while the left is busy juggling two pieces of drawing chalk.

His mouth is moving, he's talking to himself, debating which color will look best on the side of his ship. She can't help but smile, always a bit surprised when she catches her youngest son carrying on a perfectly normal conversation with the air as if he were talking with a real person.

Like two sides of the same coin.

His imagination is bottomless.

They had tried to sit down with Jack and explain the situation, what was about to happen and where they were going. But the idea of it seemed to be beyond his grasp. Not only had he not known this sister, this fifth member of their small family, but he didn't know anything about the Peacekeeper's.

They had tried to keep him as far from that aspect of Aeryn's life as possible. As far as she and John were concerned, it was the past and that's where it would stay. They hadn't really had a need to reenter that long buried territory since Jack had been with them until this point. A point when it involved all of them on the front line.

She sees John out of the corner of her eye as he saunters into the room and quickly looks over at him. One glance at his confident walk, one look in his eyes and she already feels less apprehensive, less jittery.

"Hey baby, how's it looking out there?" he asks nonchalantly on his way over to greet his son.

"About an arn and we'll be around this radiation field. Then we're in the clear, it seems," she says, looking back at the hologram one more time to check the immediate outlook on the atmosphere.

John stops in front of Jack, kneeling down and mussing his blond hair. "Hey there little man; how's it going with that ship?"

"Check it out dad," Jack says full of excitement. "It's a Luxan prowler! I made that up! It's for Jothee. I totally made it this awesome color for him!"

John laughs at the massive exuberance coming from the child's small body. "Did you totally make it for him? Something tells me he's gonna love it," John laughs as he hoists his son up on his shoulders, Jack resting his hands on his father's head.

They both wander over towards Aeryn as she watches, remembering why she's doing this. Remembering how and why her life has changed so frelling much, how and why it is all worth it. John begins to walk stumbling and wrenching, imitating a terrible creature of some sort.

"Arrgh…there's your mom…she's not gonna get away from us this time," He growls, all smiles as Jack laughs on his shoulders. As soon as they reach her, Jack is over his dad's head and on her hair, arms around her head, covering her eyes. John is flush to her back and she can feel her son's legs gently kicking at her back side. She laughs and can't help but relax just a little bit more.

"Hmm, looks like I need to work on my reaction time a little bit huh?" Aeryn reaches back and tickles her son's leg, right behind the knee, one of the two spots she knows will have him rolling. He quickly releases his grip on her head, laughing convulsively.

"STOP it Mom…pleeeaaseee…" He's kicking at John and she hears his exaggerated sounds of pain and suffering. "We totally had you! That's not fair. You can't tickle!"

She laughs again "I don't remember that being in the rules; no tickling means no eye covering! It's only fair. And yes, you totally had me," she moans as she kisses his hands clasped in her own.

"Remind me again John, how many children do I have?" Aeryn kids. "Did you teach him that word recently...totally?"

John hoists his son off his shoulders patting his back side steering him back towards his corner and his model.

"Because if you did, I'm really going to have to make you pay a price of some sort for it." She smiles, reaching up her thumb to wipe at some grease that has settled on his chin.

He has obviously been crawling around under her Prowler again; looking for God only knows what.

"Wasn't me, honest. Though I can't say I'd be totally opposed to paying the price for it," he laughs.

John grabs her hand and holds it tightly in his as he leans down to kiss her softly, letting his other hand wander up to brush the side of her face, resting on her cheek for a microt longer that normal. She's in his eyes, and he is in hers. He breaths deep and somehow, that sound comforts her more than any words could right now.

He is ready.

She is ready.

They are like two halves of the same being, reading similar moves and knowing shared thoughts. Something she had never expected could develop from a long term partnership. Not only did you learn each other outside, which was a shock in and of itself, but you learned each other inside as well. Every move, every thought, there were very few surprises and very few things she didn't know about John. She knows his reactions and she knows his mind, and he knows hers.

Aeryn knows he was thinking of her, of their family, and of the fact that this will be over soon. He is thinking of a plan, to get them in and out, and he is thinking about protecting them all. Something she frelling hated about their relationship cycles ago, she now depended upon; it has become invaluable. She had never wanted a protector; never wanted someone who felt they needed to be her savior. She was a frelling Peacekeeper. She sure as hell didn't need some lesser being acting as her conqueror.

After all this time though, she has come to rely on it. She needs it. She had never known real love until it hit her in the face like a ton of Yeulla bricks. And now she doesn't know how to survive without it.

Together, they are ready. All that they need is the okay.