Over my Head

"Commander Crichton, Officer Sun, it appears that we are going to clear the radiation field approximately a half an arn earlier than Moya and I had originally calculated." Pilot's voice interrupts the small family's hurried morning meal.

"According to the new readings we should be clear for the Prowler to take off within the next 430 microts."

John glances over at Aeryn noticing she has paused mid-bite. He can't tell if she looks sick, or shocked. Hell, at this point it could be either or both. He reaches over and grabs her hand, squeezing for extra reassurance.

"Well, you ready to do this or what?" He says with a smile, trying to hide his own apprehension about leaving his youngest son, bringing his oldest into the crossfire, and possibly seeing his daughter slip through his fingers again.

"I'm as ready as I'm going to be." She says, determination shadowing her eyes.

Jack immediately looks up from his plate, where he is busy making interesting shapes out of his Krelkar instead of actually eating it.

John gets up and walks over to their youngest son. Kneeling down in front of him, he musses his hair and looks him square in the eyes, all serious. "Hey bud, look at me. Your mom, D'Argo, and I are leaving for a bit."

Jack's eyes come to rest intently on his fathers face, suddenly full of energy at the mention of leaving. "Can't I come too? I don't want to stay here with Gran. I always have to stay here and there's nothing to do."

Boy can pout with the best of them.

"Nope, not a chance little man. First of all, we won't be gone long. Second, looks like you have plenty to do to me. I was just in your quarters not an arn ago, and you have more toys than I've seen in any market," John says picking him up with ease.

"That's not fair. I never get to do anything." He whines, looking at his mother for back up. "Come on Mommy. I don't wanna stay here," Make shift tears conveniently spring to his eyes.

Aeryn stands to her son's level as John holds him to his side and leans in close to his face. "Jack, we need you to stay here, take care of Moya and Pilot, and especially Gran." She knows exactly what buttons to press to get the desired reaction out of the child. "You'll need to be the temporary commander. Someone has to make sure that things stay safe and sound up here until we get back. Can you handle it?"

He's all smiles at the thought of this concept. That is all it takes. Temporary "Commander" of the Leviathan.

"Yeah, I'll make sure everything is okay Mom, but you'll be back soon right?" he asks, already picking up a more confident tone in his voice, taking the new roll designation of "Jack the brave" very seriously.

"We'll be back in no time. I promise." She assures him as she leans in for a kiss. His cheek is warm and flushed with excitement. Jack grabs on to her neck and holds on for dear life. Another kiss to the head and she slowly works her way out of his grasp.

John sets him down on the ground with a salute before he kneels down to kiss him on the nose and muss his hair once more for good measure. "I'm counting on you buddy, don't let your old dad down okay?"

John looks Aeryn square in the eyes as he stands, but she's gone. He only sees the hardened soldier he met all those cycles ago. She's ready and there's no more time to waste, for any reason.

Fear.

Hesitation.

Time to put it all away, lock it in that far off corner of the mind where it's voice can't be heard, and do this. John takes his son's hand, and looks intently at his wife.

"We're going to go find Grandma, make sure she understands that we'll be back soon and that she and the 'Commander' here aren't to ditch us in the middle of space with no get away car." He winks at Aeryn, barely drawing a smile out of tight lips. "You wanna go look over the Prowler one more time, make sure we have everything we need? Make sure that I haven't missed anything?" Aeryn nods and John grabs her hand and squeezes firmly. A simple gesture, a gesture that says it's going to be okay; that he's ready too. He watches her walk down the corridor in the opposite direction, gold light of the corridor making her dark hair glow.

Her back is straight with resolve as he watches her turn the corner.

It's time to make things right; once and for all.

- -

(Present)

"You said 'I know that this will hurt, but if I don't break your heart things will just get worse. When the burden seems too much to bear, remember the end will justify the pain it took to get us there'"

It's late, so frelling late. John had fantasized, he'd hoped so desperately, that once they returned to Moya, once this whole ordeal was behind them, things would quickly fall back into their normal pattern; that he would start sleeping again, that they would all settle back into their routine, and that they would meld together as a family somehow.

Wishful fucking thinking.

Well, if anything, the opposite had happened. It has been two solar days since they've returned with Taly. Two days of trying to get through to her, trying to let her know that it was going to be okay. Two days of looking at the hardness that has encased his little girl. Two days of watching Aeryn struggle with the fact that she didn't know how to deal with this.

Two days of absolute hell.

John sits on the edge of their bed, elbows on knees, chin cupped in his hands. He's so damned tired, but sleep is impossible. Aeryn lies behind him, looking up at the dark golden ceiling of their quarters. She's not sleeping. He's not sure when she last slept. He rests his hand on the bed and turns to face her, his other hand quickly moving to stroke her cheek, careful to avoid the cut still lingering on her forehead. She is so beautiful, damn the rest of it to hell. He has to make this right.

His thumb softly strokes the cool skin on her face. "I'm going to go get a drink, baby. You want anything?" he asks.

All he gets in reply is a shake of the head, and her continued blank stare at the ceiling. He leans down to softly kiss her on the lips before he's up and out of the room, on his way down the quiet corridor towards the mess. He needs something hard, something to help him shut down his overactive brain for a little while, or at least slow it down long enough for him to get some rest.

A sudden sound stops him in his tracks, a sure sign that someone else is up wandering; or that someone, something is on board Moya besides his family. John flattens himself against the wall, and slowly slides his right hand down to his holster. Snaking his finger through the trigger on his pulse pistol he clicks off the safety. His nerves are still on edge. He's still in fighting mode if he even had such a thing. He can sense the instinct of being wary at even the slightest disturbance taking over his head and his actions. He quickly slides around the bend, pulling out the pistol, both arms up and in front of him in one fluid motion as the barrel comes to rest squarely in the face of his daughter.

"Jesus Christ," John yelps, completely unnerved at seeing her standing in front of him. It hasn't been long enough; the concept of her being back is still foreign to his mind. Before he can react with another move, the girl smacks the pistol from his hands and leans down to pick it up. Instead of looking at her blue eyes he's now staring straight into the barrel of his own damn gun.

"Whoa! Whoa there Taly," He lifts his hands up, a sign that he doesn't intend to hurt her, the closest thing he's got to a white flag. "I didn't think you were up, I didn't think anyone was up. That's the only reason I had the pistol out," he stammers with deep breaths, tense and nervous, upset over the fact that he doesn't know whether or not he can trust his own kid.

"Is that the way you greet your family? With a gun in the face?" She says with a smirk, taking a step closer. Her small frame stands erect. She seems completely used to the feel of the metal weapon in her hands. The sight of it makes John feel sick. His daughter was twelve fucking years old. She should be playing with dolls and tea sets, she shouldn't be holding a damn gun and she sure as hell shouldn't know how to USE one.

"Okay, put the gun down," John pleads, the barrel resting inches from his chest. "I didn't mean to scare you. What are you doing wandering around right now anyways?"

Taly seems to let her stance relax, just slightly, still on guard thanks to years of Peacekeeper training and simulations like the one they'd just pulled her from.

"I was looking for someplace to get a drink," She mumbles, looking away and attempting to avoid his eyes. John slowly and gently lets his hands fall back to his side, a deep breath of relief snaking out of his lips. He can still feel his heart beating against his chest like a hammer. His "little" girl had scared the shit out of him. He takes a small step forward. She's noticeably exhausted. There doesn't seem to be any fight left in her at this point.

He quickly takes the gun back from her hand and holsters it, trying to put the remnants of the moment behind them.

"Well, it just so happens that I was heading to get a little drink myself," he states, trying to lighten the mood. The girl is obviously too tired to put up much of a fight at this point. The only sleep she's gotten is the 4 or so arns that Noranti's powder had brought upon her unwittingly. He lifts his arm up and gently pushes her shoulder ahead of him barely touching the soft cloth of her shirt before she pulls away. He leads her in the direction of the Mess. "Right this way."

He's pulling out his best ammo here, all charm, all the time. "If you ever get thirsty, hungry, anything; just head in this direction and old Noranti, we call her Gran, your Mom or I will hook you up with whatever you need, okay?" He is so on the verge of some kind of breakthrough here.

"She's not my Gran," the girl spits out with disdain as if the very word burns her tongue. "She's a crazy, three eyed, old woman."

So, maybe he wasn't as close to that breakthrough as he thought. This is the Taly they had come to know since she had started speaking to them.

They continue the rest of distance in silence, share a glass of water in silence, and walk back to her quarters in silence. His breakthrough has become more of a blow out.

"So, Umm…you need anything else?" What the hell is he supposed to do now? Tuck her in and kiss her goodnight?

"No, I don't need anything from you," She is obviously not too tired to provide him with one more look of contempt before she slides quickly into her dark quarters. John can hear her stop short just on the other side of the gate and waits quietly. If she's going to say something, anything, he doesn't want to stick his big foot in his mouth and ruin it. Before he can ruin anything however, he can hare her footsteps pick up again.

"Yeah, okay, so you have a good night." He says to the door before turning to go. "Maybe when you get up in the morning we can have pancakes for breakfast and I'll take you to the park to fly a kite," He continues under his breath as he wanders slowly back to his and Aeryn's quarters. Could this situation possibly be any more frelled?

"Wait John, you know the rules of the universe. Asking yourself a question like that is practically code for begging for more frelling," he chuckles quietly as he slides his hand over the door panel, sneaking his way in to the room.

"I'm still awake," He hears Aeryn say, giving him clearance to move freely without the fear of waking her.

She is still lying on their bunk, staring at the ceiling. She hasn't moved a dench. He wanders over to the narrow ledge that lines the wall of the quarters and leans his back against it stiffly. He had quickly grabbed a small bottle on the way out of the galley and he pulls it out of his pocket. Cool and clear and filled with fellip they were saving for a special occasion, or a fucked up one as the case may be. He isn't keeping track.

John quickly uncaps the bottle, taking a firm swig of the sweet liquid, savoring the burn as it makes it way down his throat and into his stomach. Now, this is more along the lines of the drink he had planned on. He steps over to sit on the edge of the bed, taking another, deeper swallow. He feels Aeryn sit up behind him, resting her chin on his shoulder and snaking her arm up and around his other shoulder and rubbing his chest. He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back as he tries to imprint the feel of the touch in his brain, lets it override all of the other feelings and emotions that are kicking around in his mind. Aeryn reaches for the bottle and pulls it from his hand, taking a long drink of her own.

"I think I had a bit of a breakthrough; well, a something. I'm not really sure what it was now that I think about it actually," John mutters.

"What are you talking about?" Aeryn asks between sips.

"Your daughter, I ran into her in the corridor. Actually, I pulled a gun on her in the corridor. That'd probably be more accurate." Aeryn chokes down her last swallow behind him, sputtering her words out.

"What the frell happened?" She asks shocked.

"I didn't expect anyone to be up. All I heard were some noises and well, I was on edge and I over reacted. Next thing I knew I was pointing a gun at Taly." He takes the bottle back from her hands and takes another long drink himself. Fellip is a hell of a lot stronger than anything on Earth and he can already feel it going to his head. His legs feel tingly and his stomach is warm.

"And?" Aeryn prods.

"And she obviously takes after her mom because she quickly proceeded to kick my ass. Well, not exactly, but she could have at that point if she would have wanted to. She's damn fast," He sighs and hears Aeryn laugh lightly behind him as he turns to face her.

"You laughing at me woman?" he wearily jokes.

"Well, you did just get taken by our twelve cycle old daughter, you realize this right?" she asks.

Well, when you put it that way; of course it sounds shitty.

"Okay, well how would you have reacted if you realized you were pointing a gun at our kid?" He questions.

"Hmm, that's a good question," she wraps her arms around his waist, breath soft on his neck. "Probably wouldn't have drawn the pistol in the first place, until I knew there was a threat."

He rests his hands on top of hers, his head down. "Yeah, I guess when I said I 'over reacted,' that was a bit of an understatement."

"Just a little perhaps," She says soothingly. "I'm sure she wasn't thrown off that badly. She has been trained as a soldier."

Her words offer very little in the way of comfort; he's still stuck on the fact that he just pulled a pulse pistol on his own daughter. "I guess," he mumbles.

"What was she doing out at this time of the sleep cycle?" Aeryn asks, rubbing his stomach through the soft material of his shirt.

"She was looking for a drink. I took her to the mess and we almost had a one sentence conversation that didn't involve the words 'go away', 'I'm not talking to you' or 'Frell off?' I was feeling pretty optimistic until the cat got her tongue and that was the last I heard."

Aeryn sighs with a questioning glance.

"It's just an expression babe. Her tongue is fine," John says as he lies back on the bed, resting the bottle on his stomach. "I think she's slowly coming around. She can't keep that wall up forever."

He's optimistic. He has to be optimistic. If he loses whatever semblance of hope he's managed to hold on to; the insanity of the situation will really start to get to him. But, Then again, if the girl really takes after her mother, the wall could be a lot damn harder to break through than he had planned on.

John closes his eyes, savoring the lightheaded sensation that the fellip brings. It feels good. It relaxes him. He'll take it, even if it's only for a few fleeting moments of peace.
The small bottle is already empty, holding just enough for he and Aeryn both to get a little buzz, enough to help take their minds off of the moment and onto something else entirely.

He can feel her hand rubbing slowly at the base of his stomach, gentle touch of cool fingers as she makes her way under the fabric of his shirt and on to the flat plane of his belly. His head is spinning slightly, a combination of the fellip, the feel of Aeryn's hands on overly sensitive skin, and the overwhelming emotions of the situation that he had just stumbled upon create an intoxicating mix of urgency and desire. He loses his grip on the bottle and it rolls off of his stomach, off of the bed, and onto the floor, hitting with the clank of glass against tile. It doesn't break, but something inside of him does.

He reaches for her, pulling her on top of him and she settles her hands on his chest. His hands move slowly and carefully up and down her sides, not leaving one dench of space untouched. There is nothing to say, nothing to fill the silence except hitched breath and the sound of fabric against sheets. Their eyes are locked, both dark with urgency and need. They are caught in the moment; neither wanting to move for fear that something will jolt them out of this time and place and back into the harsh reality that their life has been these last several days.

His eyes travel her face and settle on her lips, soft and shining; wet from the remnants of the Fellip. He needs to taste them, needs to feel them, so he quickly moves his head up and kisses her fully. His tongue slips inside her mouth, tasting the sweetness of the drink and of her. His hands are in her hair, like he's holding on for dear life. They twist in the dark locks and he gladly lets her hair spill over them and onto his face. He needs her so badly; sometimes it's hard for him to function. She totally takes over his mind.

Equally as needy at this point, Aeryn lightly nips at his lower lip, something that she knows drives him crazy, and he moans into her mouth.

He breaks the kiss slowly, pulling her head down to rest against his. Nose against nose, warm breath mingling, eyes closed. Don't rush this John; something in the back of his mind tells him. Take it slow, enjoy every minute you have with her in your arms.

Fucking Fellip. He wanted her and he wanted her now.

He lifts her arms over her head as she sits and straddles him. Hands grazing the soft skin of her stomach, he takes the bottom of her shirt and pulls it up and over her head. She shakes her head after working her hair free from the shirt. It falls long and dark on her back and he savors the soft, full feel of it in his fingers, twisting several strands between them. It feels…well, it feels more than it usually does. It's softer, thicker, and warmer and he can't seem to take his fingers off of it. Is it real, or is it the drink?

He can't tell any more. He doesn't care.

He sits up and leans against the headboard behind them as Aeryn takes the bottom of his black T-shirt and lifts it up and over his head. She takes her head down to his chest, where lips meet skin. She is everywhere, he can feel her everywhere. Like a million sensations from all over his body, it's all he can do to keep from passing out.

He leans his head down, softly whispering her name. She's on his stomach, on his chest, his neck, all the while her hands are on his pants. She's working the zipper down, maneuvering the leather in ways that are making him insane. He can't take it any more, he needs them off now. He moves his hands down to help work them off of his hips, but she doesn't want any of that. She brushes his hands away and continues her mission unaided.

He is so ready, and she so knows it, and god she drives him crazy and he absolutely frelling loves her with every inch of his being.

Her hands are on him, firm and warm, and he inadvertently moves under her touch. He can't hold out much longer, there's no way, especially not with the mixture of the fellip and her on top of him the way she is. Before she can move another dench his hands are under her shorts, sliding them down her thin hips for better access. He's there in a microt as she throws her head back and growls his name. She is absolutely ready; he can feel it on his stomach and through her touch. He swells at the thought that he still has such an effect on her.

My Aeryn.

John pulls her down swiftly and pays some much needed attention to her breasts, not leaving one dench of skin untouched.

She's soft and hard at the same time; sweet, tasting completely of her.

Aeryn tries to stifle down a moan in order to nip at the lobe of his left ear. He can feel her tongue, her warm breath on his skin. His hands are all over her back, and he gently shifts her body downward. She can't wait any longer and neither can he. She takes his lips in a harsh kiss, tongues dueling, and she takes him inside of her as he moans her name again. He might die, and he can't think of a better way to go. His hips buck up underneath of her. He needs to be as far inside of her as he can. Needs to own every inch of her But she's in control, has him right where she wants him. She presses against his chest, pushing him back against the head board, and sets her own pace. She quickly rocks against him and frell if he can stay still. His hands are on her hips as he begins to move inside of her, while his fingers move outside. It doesn't take half a microt before she's over the edge, hands on his chest, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying out. The sight and feel of her coming around him is all he needs and he's gone, his back arched, head thrown back.

All he sees are stars and Aeryn's face and all he feels is her completely taking him in. A weak cry is all he can muster; the feel of all of his muscles working overtime seems to be draining him of any energy he might have left for a voice.

John's head his spinning. They are all sweat and breath and completely tangled as one.

She leans down on his chest, rubbing at his sides, heavy breathing and gentle kisses to his skin. He can't get control of his heart and he closes his eyes again, trying to remember the last time he felt so alive. His hands are on her back, smoothing heated skin, gliding along her arms. She moves her mouth to claim her spot in the crook of his neck and shoulder, breathing him in. Neither is in a hurry to move, to lose the moment.

He kisses the top of her head, slips out of her to roll on his side, and rests his head against the cool softness of the pillow. He lays a hand on her back encouraging her to do the same. She doesn't hesitate and moves softly into place, her back against his chest, his arms around her, a perfect fit.

"Promise me that it's all going to be okay," she whispers. It's not a question, just a request for some sort of reassurance.

"I promise baby, it's gonna be okay. I love you so much," He responds, reluctant to see this moment pass and beckon the reality of their situation.

Aeryn moves her head forward, lifting his hands to her mouth and kisses his knuckles softly as he closes his eyes. He lets the feel of her overtake him. Lets the fellip overtake him. Lets love overtake him.

His eyes flutter shut as his breathing slows and sleep comes like a thief to steal him away.