Decompression - carleton97
With his eyes closed, the quiet, bio-mechanical hum of Moya could almost be mistaken for the drone of the sea and it had nearly the same soporific effect on John Crichton. Behind him, the tall wall of Pilot's console radiated heat, neatly doubling for a small mound of sand on the Pacific shore.
Though he knew it couldn't last, this moment of peace was exactly what the doctor ordered. Aeryn stirred restlessly in his arms, reminding him the past few weekens had been mentally and physically brutal for all of them. Beneath the pale skin of her cheek, he could see a sizable dark splotch forming. Knowing how difficult it was to bruise a Sebacean, John realized Crais must have gotten a good shot in. Bastard. As far as he was concerned, Crais was one leopard who'd never change his spots.
John felt an odd stirring in his diaphragm as he pushed thoughts of Scorpius and Crais and the Chair out of his head and he knew something inside of him was irrevocably changed, broken. He didn't like the feeling and didn't want the knowledge, so instead he concentrated on the exhausted woman asleep in his arms.
Sleep did not make her appear weak or vulnerable. Her strength of character was not dimmed by unconsciousness. Somehow it had seeped into her bones, imbuing the architecture of her face with the sheer strength of her will. Though she claimed Sebaceans never dreamed, her eyes moved erratically under the protective cover of blue veined lids and her hands twitched against sleep induced paralysis.
A quiet whirring caught his attention and he focused his tired eyes on the taped-up DRD near his feet. Pilot had told him the DRD's eyestalk had been repaired, but the little guy had wanted to keep the tape on. Its eyes looked them up and down before Pilot spoke quietly from above.
"The past days have been ... trying, Commander, and the others have been asleep for over an arn. Perhaps you should return to your quarters for the night."
John smiled at the symbiant's talent for understatement. "Perhaps we should. Goodnight, Pilot." He raised his hand to brush some unruly tendrils of hair away from Aeryn's face, "Hey, wake up, sunshine."
She didn't wake, only stirred and John huffed out a laugh at the tiny snore that escaped her. He shifted her around until he could stand with her in his arms. He staggered to his feet, muscles protesting both the time spent curled up on the floor and the unaccustomed burden of another's weight. He quickly regained his balance, but his small stumble was enough to wake Aeryn from her slumber.
"Wha -- What's going on?" She kicked her legs a little and he released them, keeping his arm around her back when she swayed on her feet.
"It's past your bedtime, sleepyhead."
Not entirely awake, she laid her head back on his shoulder and nodded, "Goodnight Pilot, Moya."
"Sleep well, Officer Sun, Commander." Pilot paused for a moment, "Moya thanks you for your efforts on Talyn's behalf."
Aeryn turned slightly and laid her hand on Pilot's console, "I only wish I could have done more." She squared her shoulders and let John guide her towards the door.
Moya's hallways were quiet and dark as they trudged towards their quarters, exhaustion making them sluggish. The door to Aeryn's quarters slid open, nearly masking her quiet sigh. Taking advantage of his arm around her waist, John pulled her close for a moment, resting his lips against the soft skin of her forehead.
She tensed reflexively at the contact, but quickly relaxed contentedly into his warmth. Her arms loosely circled his waist and she nuzzled the side of her face against his, like a kitten marking its territory. He wanted nothing more than to stay with her like this for the remainder of the sleep cycle, but he didn't dare presume anything. It had to be her decision.
He held her tightly for a long moment before releasing her with a whispered, "Goodnight."
He was halfway down the hallway when he heard his name spoken softly. He turned and saw she hadn't moved from where he left her. She turned her head to watch him as he made his way back down the hall, his hope and apprehension plain on his face.
She waited until he was next to her again and she could again relax her guard slightly, "Could you ... stay? Just for tonight? I don't - I don't want to be alone." Her eyes widened slightly at the possible implications of what she said, "I don't want - I mean, I'm tired and -"
John ran his hand down the back of her bare arm, ending her jumbled explanation and reassuring her, "I understand."
Her smile was unsure, but a smile nonetheless.
Disclaimer: I do not claim to own the characters from Farscape. They belong to a whole bunch of people like the Sci-Fi Channel and Henson Studio to name a few. I just like to play with them.
Created and maintained by carleton97.