This story is rated NC-17 for sex. If you aren't 18, or easily offended, stop NOW and read some of my other fics
"Damn you, Scorpy!" John Crichton yelled weakly as the vision of his torturer faded from his hazy vision. He reached out to ineffectively swipe at the hallucination as it disappeared altogether. "Got... got to get out of here," he muttered to himself. The heat in the basement, and the acrid smell of the Scarran's burning reptilian flesh, was overwhelming. John could barely breathe. He slowly, painfully rose to his feet and stumbled out towards his left. Scorpius had said that there was an exit there. Trusting that evil menace was risky, but John had no choice. He didn't know where he was, or how he'd gotten there. All he knew was that he had to get out before the Scarran's friends came back to finish the job.
A breath of fresh, cool air on his face told John that he was close to the exit. He staggered towards the source of the breeze. A few more meters forward was a door that was propped open with a small rock. Anyone from the street level wouldn't have noticed the door being ajar unless they were looking for it. John half walked, half wobbled to the door and opened it slowly. He wished that he'd carried a second pulse-pistol, like Aeryn sometimes did. His was now a twisted piece of molten metal in what was left of the Scarran's cranium. He hesitated, listening for any sounds from street level. Nothing was moving, not even the wind. John opened the door slowly. It opened to a stone staircase about 20 steps high leading up to the street level. "It's never easy," he muttered. "Just this once, can't it be easy?" Slowly, shakily, he made his way up the stairs. About five steps from the top, one of the stones crumbled beneath his foot. He let out a surprised cry, then pinwheeled his arms, looking for something to balance him. His body hit the steps with a thud, and a sharp pain shot from his right ankle all the way up his leg. The pain caused a sharp flash of white light behind his eyes, then he sank down into the painless dark of unconsciousness.
***
"D'Argo! We've already looked in this frelling alley three times!" Aeryn Sun snapped at her companion's broad back. They were in what Aeryn thought was a run-down section of the Commerce District. The houses were above street level, and staircases led down to their basement levels. "He isn't here. I say we go back to that bar again and make the bartender tell us if he's seen Crichton." She shifted her pulse-pistol to her other hand and rolled her eyes in annoyance.
"I'm telling you, he's here somewhere," D'Argo snarled back at her. They'd been looking for Crichton for four arns, and they were getting on each other's nerves. "I can smell him. His scent is stronger than usual. He's definitely somewhere around here."
"It's probably just your own breath," Aeryn muttered as she peered into the fading light, looking for a familiar form. "He's probably back at the transport by now, laughing hysterically at our attempt to find him."
"He would have called us," the Luxan snapped. He then stopped and concentrated as he sniffed the air. "This way," he said as he followed his nose to the left side of the alley. "Crichton!" he called out.
"John? Are you here?" she echoed, then stopped suddenly. She grabbed D'Argo's upper arm and silenced him. Sure enough, they both heard a faint groan coming from one of the stairwells. Aeryn took off in that direction with D'Argo on her heels.
The Luxan sniffed the air again, then peered into the shadows between the dilapidated buildings and the street. "I can smell him, but I can't pinpoint him."
"There," her sharp eyes, trained from arns of spotting enemy craft in the dark of space, spotted an inert figure slumped halfway down the stairwell of one of the abandoned houses. As she got closer, she made out the lighter color of John's hair against the stone steps. "John!" she cried out and ran down the crumbling stairs to his side, holstering her pulse-pistol as she ran.
Crichton was laying face-down on the stairs. A quick check of his pulse told Aeryn that he was alive but unconscious. His right leg was laying at an odd angle. "Help me get him over," Aeryn directed D'Argo. Crichton groaned again as they rolled him over. The Human was deathly pale, his breathing was ragged, and his skin temperature was overly warm. He was covered in a slick sheen of perspiration, and his shirt and hair were wet with it. "Get his shoulders. I'm going to try to support his leg," she ordered. D'Argo nodded and reached under John's torso to lift him up. As he did, Aeryn lifted his legs as gently as she could, but Crichton still gasped involuntarily. The two of them hauled John up to the street and laid him out flat. Aeryn felt John's right leg from the knee to the ankle. His ankle was probably sprained, if not broken. He had other bruises and lacerations, plus two strange red circular marks on either side of his head.
"Crichton, what happened?" D'Argo asked as Aeryn removed her coat. She rolled it into a ball and tucked it under John's head. Crichton, however, gave no answer except to groan.
"Stay with him," Aeryn told D'Argo. "I'm going to check out that house." She started to stand, but D'Argo grabbed her shoulder to stop her from rising.
"I'll go," he said. "I don't need both of you down." Aeryn looked at him quizzically. "Heat source," he explained.
She nodded in agreement. Whatever had caused John to perspire heavily may still have the heat turned up to a level that would be deadly to her. D'Argo nodded, then headed back down the stairs. "If you run into trouble..."
"I'll call you. Stay alert."
Aeryn drew her weapon in response. "You, too." He disappeared into the basement, leaving Aeryn alone with John.
She looked closer at him. He was still perspiring heavily and breathing through his mouth. She scooted up and sat at his head. Gently, carefully, she moved his head into her lap and pulled the coat out from under him. She unrolled it, and used one of the sleeves to wipe the sweat away from John's face.
"No," he muttered to whatever internal demons were tormenting him. "Scorpy..."
Aeryn bit her lip and raised the hand that was holding her pistol. Was Scorpius here, or was it another one of John's flashbacks? They'd seen no signs of a Peacekeeper presence on this commerce planet, but that didn't mean anything. She knew more than anyone how stealthy Peacekeeper commandoes could be when they wanted to. She was almost one of them, before the man laying in her lap had stumbled into her life. "Shhh... I'm here," she stroked his face with her coat and reassured him quietly. "I won't let anyone get you again." Aeryn had made that promise before, after she'd rescued John from the Gammak base. She hoped that he would forgive her for breaking it this time.
***
D'Argo drew his qualta blade and engaged the rifle as he entered the basement of the run-down house. He wasn't taking any chances. He knew his friend well enough to know that, if he'd gotten away, the being or beings that did this to him would probably be extremely upset. John had an extraordinary talent for making both friends and enemies. D'Argo doubted that whatever was in this basement was going to be pleased to see him.
The heat in the basement hit D'Argo like a blast furnace. The next thing he noticed was the smell. Something that smelled like burning hair and flesh assaulted his sensitive nose and made him gag. He wished he'd had Aeryn's coat, so he could put it over his mouth and nose. But, a warrior was expected to proceed under the most difficult conditions. He slowly moved forward, through a dark passageway and into a storage area. The heat and burning smell were coming from a room to his right. So far there had been no signs of life, either friend or foe. D'Argo padded down the short hallway to the right, following his nose. As he approached, he saw a figure laying on the floor. He ducked behind the door jamb and breathed three times. Then, he swung around the entryway, rifle at the ready.
There was no need. The being on the floor, which had the long claws and greenish-gray skin of a Scarran, wasn't going anywhere. Its head was blown off, and smoldering bits of flesh decorated the walls of the room. The remains of a Peacekeeper-issue pulse-pistol were still smoking on the floor. D'Argo looked past the mess and found some kind of restraining device in the center of the room. It was hooked to a console which faced the center. He checked it out. The console appeared to have several dials, and a recording device. Before he engaged it, he pressed his communication device. "Aeryn, it's D'Argo."
"What's going on in there?" she answered in a tense voice.
"It's all clear, but I wouldn't recommend you coming in. It's still pretty hot in here."
"I understand," she said, the tension in her voice easing up. "Find anything?"
"A very dead Scarran with some kind of equipment."
"A Scarran?" Aeryn echoed. "What would a Scarran want with Crichton?"
"Uh... their ambassador," D'Argo reminded her. Although she had been missing when John killed the Scarran ambassador on the royal planet, she'd had her own run-in with him.
"Oh."
D'Argo pressed the rewind button on the console, then hit play. "Subject's brain waves ceased at 10..." the Scarran said on the tape.
"Did I hear that clearly?" Aeryn asked, the tension coming back into her voice. "Did it say that John died?"
"Looks that way," D'Argo confirmed. He quickly pulled out the recording crystal from the console. " We've got to get him back to Moya."
"No arguments here," she agreed. "Get what you can out of there and come on back up."
"I'm on it," D'Argo answered. As he pulled the restraining device free, he wondered exactly what the Scarran had done to his friend. He was sure that, whatever it was, it was painful.
***
Aeryn stroked John's wet hair and shuddered involuntarily. She kept hearing the raspy voice of the Scarran torturer saying that the subject's brain waves had ceased. "I'm so sorry, John. I should have been paying closer attention," she murmured. "I should have been there."
He muttered something unintelligible and tried to push away. "Shh.. it's all right," she whispered.
D'Argo coughed once, and Aeryn jumped. The Luxan had come up the stairs and was standing over her. He met her eyes, then she turned her head away in embarrassed silence. "Help me to get him up," D'Argo said. "We'll have to get him back to the transport pod."
"We can carry him between us," she agreed. She scooted out from under him, then put his left arm around her shoulders. "Grab his other arm," she told D'Argo. As soon as he did, the two of them lifted Crichton to a vertical position - more or less.
"There's one problem," D'Argo observed drily. Aeryn was a good half-metra shorter than him, and John was hanging at an angle between them. She looked up at D'Argo apologetically. "I can carry him," the Luxan offered. "I've carried heavier dead weight."
"Yes, but Rygel's smaller," she shot back. They shared a grin at Aeryn's black humor.
As Aeryn shifted John's weight fully onto D'Argo, the Human's eyes suddenly fluttered open. He looked at from D'Argo to Aeryn and smiled crazily. "Heeey! Gary and Doc Betty! What happened, we get in another accident or something? This one wasn't my fault, I wasn't driving," Crichton babbled.
"What the frell is he talking about?" D'Argo asked. "He's making less sense than usual."
"Come on, John. We have to get you back to Moya now," Aeryn tried to tell him.
"Moya doan' exist," John slurred. "A fig-newton of my 'magination. Doc says I'm goin' crazy, 'member?"
D'Argo rolled his eyes impatiently and hauled John down the street. "Let's go, John," he snapped. "Time to go home." The two of them lurched down the alley, with Aeryn carrying the pieces that D'Argo had raided from the Scarran's torture device. She was trying her best to steady John and keep D'Argo from killing him again. It wasn't easy, considering that John didn't seem to know who they were, and kept referring to the Luxan as someone named Garee.
***
After what seemed like arns, they made it back to the spaceport and managed to find their pod. Once they got John settled, D'Argo took the controls. Aeryn stayed with John, who had passed out again. Once they had cleared the atmosphere, D'Argo made sure that there were no potentially hostile ships around, then turned to face her. "You don't have to hide anything," he told her point-blank. "Even warriors are allowed to have feelings."
She glared at the Luxan. "Just because you and Chiana are like mella-cats in heat doesn't mean that the rest of us are," she shot back.
"This has nothing to do with me and Chiana. It has to do with you and John."
Aeryn looked down at the unconscious man with his head in her lap, then up at D'Argo again. "We had another disagreement. I don't recall what it was about. One microt we were talking normally, the next, we were yelling at each other. You know how stubborn he can be."
"Only him?" D'Argo crossed his arms and waited.
"Well... me too," Aeryn agreed hesitantly. "He stormed off on his own down the alley that we found him in. I didn't try to stop him or catch up with him. That must have been when the Scarran captured him." Something occurred to her suddenly. "Scarrans are telepathic, and are very good at mental manipulation. Unlike other telepathic races, they have no rules against using their powers on others."
"So, you think that the Scarran may have influenced you and John to start fighting to separate you?"
"It would explain a lot," she stroked John's hair again. Now they were safely in the pod, his body temperature was slowly coming back to normal.
"I suggest you tell him that," the Luxan advised her. "In fact, there's a lot of things that you should tell him."
"Mind your own business," she snapped.
"John is my friend. So are you. I want you both to be happy. Right now, you're not."
"Now you sound like Chiana."
"You should listen to her sometimes. She makes a lot of sense."
As if on cue, John started to thrash around in her lap. "No! Mother! Oh, God, please, not that!" he cried out and pushed her away. D'Argo caught his arms to keep them from flailing, while Aeryn tried to hold him down.
"It's all right, John," she stroked his hair and reassured him. "We're
here for you." She looked up at D'Argo and met his eyes. Both of them were
thinking the same thing - was the Scarran's torture enough to push John
over the edge, and would he ever be the same?
***
"Can't you go anywhere without that stupid yotz getting into trouble?" Rygel grumbled to Aeryn in the medical bay as Zhaan examined Crichton.
"Shut up, Rygel," she snarled in response.
"I think we should put him on a leash," Rygel continued, "Or not let him out at all."
Aeryn drew her weapon and pointed it at the Hynerian. "I told you to shut up, before I shut you up permanently. As for not going out at all, I seem to recall someone not wanting to go down to the commerce planet because they didn't have any good food there."
"Yeah, Ryge," Chiana jumped in, "lay off. I'm sure Aeryn feels guilty enough already without your help."
"Oh, thank you," Aeryn sneered sarcastically. "You're really helping."
"Nobody is at fault," D'Argo reminded them. "The Scarran manipulated Crichton to get him alone. So both of you shut up," he stared deliberately at Rygel and Chiana.
"Oh, great. So now you're taking her side!" Chiana snapped at her lover.
"No, I'm not," D'Argo explained, trying to get himself out of the hole that he'd just dug. "I'm just saying what I think happened."
Aeryn stood up. "Look, all of you, just shut up!" she yelled. "I can't handle much more of this. You want to blame me for what happened to Crichton, fine. Think what you want. I don't care." She turned around and walked away from them towards Zhaan. John was unconscious on the examining table. He stripped down to his underwear, and his right ankle was wrapped in a tight bandage. A computer monitor showed a diagram of his head, with various areas showing angry red splotches. She silently looked at the monitor, her forehead creased with concern. Aeryn was no medic, but she could certainly tell that this wasn't good.
She felt a hand on her shoulder. Zhaan was standing behind her, also looking at the monitor. "His neuro-transmitter level is off the scale. It's too early to tell if there's any permanent damage," she said. "The fact that he was conscious for a short period of time is a good sign."
"Do you think I'm to blame?" Aeryn asked.
"Of course not. I doubt even a tenth-level Pa'u could have protected John from this."
Aeryn slumped with relief. "I'm glad that someone believes me."
"Do you?" Zhaan asked.
"What?"
"Do you believe that you're not responsible?"
Aeryn paused. She looked away from Zhaan to the man laying on the table. "After we rescued him from the Gammak base, I promised him that I wouldn't let anyone do that to him again. I failed, Zhaan. I failed to protect him. We got into a stupid argument, and we separated."
"First of all, John is capable of taking care of himself. Second, I know a little about Scarran telepathic abilities. I think that what you say is true, that you were both influenced by the Scarran agent. Third," the priestess put a hand on Aeryn's shoulder, "I think you have other things to consider."
"Such as?"
"How long you're going to let this continue."
Aeryn looked puzzled. "Let what continue?"
"This constant toying with John's feelings. It's cruel, Aeryn."
She was shocked speechless. She hadn't thought of what her confused feelings for the Human were doing to him. "I... I... I don't know what to do," she stammered. "Part of me wants to run away any time we get close..."
"And the other part?"
"Wants to hold on and never let him go. Ever since we found him outside the Scarran's lair, I keep hearing the words, 'subject died' over and over." She looked up at Zhaan, who was listening patiently. "Everything is so confused. If this was a battle, I'd be running away like a frelling coward."
"It is a battle, Aeryn. It's the toughest one of all, and only you can fight it - because it's within you," Zhaan explained. "And I suggest that you resolve it soon, because he's going to need you to help him fight his own inner demons."
"Need me?" she was confused. "If anyone can help John right now, it's you. You've shared more with him than I have."
The priestess paused, and looked down at Crichton with a regret in her eyes. "John and I share Unity, but you are the one that holds his heart in your hands, not me. I can help heal his physical injuries. I might even be able to ease the mental and emotional pain. But only you can give him the emotional healing that he'll need to survive this."
Two tears rolled down Aeryn's cheeks as she turned her attention back to John. "Leave me alone, Scorpy," he muttered in his sleep.
Aeryn stroked his cheek. "He told me that he was seeing Scorpius every so often, like a shadow following him. I just attributed it to stress or space sickness. I guess that the Aurora chair did more damage to him than any of us were willing to admit. And with this on top of it..."
Zhaan glanced from John to the monitor display. His brain waves seemed to have spiked during the dream, but were settling down. "It may help him to be in more familiar surroundings. I think that we can safely move him to his quarters."
"I'll get D'Argo to help us move him," Aeryn agreed, and turned to leave.
"He will need someone to stay with him tonight," Zhaan said.
Aeryn caught the prompting note in the Delvian's voice. "I'll stay with him," she nodded. "I owe him that, and a lot more."
***
The nightmares kept coming, fast and furious, until he didn't know what was a dream and what was reality. Through it all, he saw Scorpius smiling his death's-head grimace, waiting patiently for him to break. Only, it wasn't Scorpius, but the Scarran ambassador from the Sebacean colony. Or was it? He shoved his pulse-pistol into the Scarran's mouth and ran as it exploded. But was it real, or part of the nightmare? Then it was Aeryn shooting at the mirror ball and shattering it - only she wasn't really Aeryn. She kept calling out his name, but he pushed away from her. "Leave me alone! I won't tell you anything!" he shouted, then screamed as the mirror ball exploded into a burst of white light again. He flailed his arms, but something held them down. His ankle throbbed with a dull echo of pain. "Leave me alone!" he shouted again and woke up suddenly.
"John," Aeryn's calm voice cut through the fog. It was soft, not like the severe Aeryn in his nightmare. He shook his head, and his neck felt like shattered glass. A cool hand caressed his right cheek. His eyes adjusted to the low light slowly. He was in his quarters on Moya, wearing nothing but his undershorts. He wasn't alone - Aeryn Sun sat next to him on his bed, illuminated from behind by the yellow light from the corridor. She was leaning over him, her long black hair shadowing her face so he couldn't see her expression. As she leaned closer, John smelled the subtle scent that Zhaan had given her some time ago. "Hey," she whispered gently.
"Hey," he said back. His throat was parched. She seemed to sense that, and held out a cup to him. He sat up and reached for it. As their fingers touched, John felt a spark of... what? He put the cup to his lips while watching her closely.
"I thought that you might want something to drink," she encouraged.
He finished the cool water and put the cup back on the bedside table. "Yeah, thanks." Then he looked back at her skeptically.
"I wanted to be here when you woke up," she explained, "to apologize for getting angry with you back on the planet." She looked intently at a DRD on the floor beside his bed. "None of this would have happened if we hadn't been separated."
He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned her face toward his. "What happened, Aeryn? I'm remembering bits and pieces, but it's not making any sense."
She swallowed, but kept looking at him. He dropped his hand. "You were kidnapped by a Scarran, probably an intelligence agent. He was torturing you, some kind of mental over-stimulation. We can't figure out why you were targeted. D'Argo thinks that it might have been payback for killing their ambassador." She closed her eyes in pain and whispered, "you died, John. Your brain waves stopped for a few microts, then restarted. Somehow, you managed to escape and kill the Scarran - spraining your ankle in the process."
"A Scarran? I sorta remember that." He tried to think, but it was too painful. A sparkle of light appeared on Aeryn's cheek. He reached over and wiped the tear away. "Hey? What's got you so upset? I lived through it, just like everything else. You aren't getting rid of me that easily."
Her brows knitted with concern, and she stroked his whisker-stubbled cheek. "That's just it. You're alive and whole." Another tear ran down her cheek. She paused to wipe it away. "You see, Scarrans are the mortal enemies of the Sebaceans. I'm not old enough to be in the last war we had with them, but some of my superiors were. I've heard stories about what Scarrans do to their prisoners. The lucky ones die quickly, or manage to kill themselves. Others were experimented on and tortured, then sent back to the Peacekeepers as a warning. John, they were just shells. It was terrible," she shuddered. He pulled her into his arms.
"It's all right," he murmured through her hair into her ear. "I can't explain how, but I managed to survive it. I'm pretty tough to kill. You've seen to that," he said as he traced the outline of her ear with his lips. God, she's as shaken up about this as I am, he thought.
"I don't want to lose you again," she breathed. She turned and put her strong arms around his waist and leaned against his shoulder. He felt a spot of dampness where a tear had managed to splash onto him.
Even as physically and emotionally spent as he was, John felt his body respond to her closeness. He didn't know where she was going with this - but he knew that he didn't want it to end like all of the other times. He kissed the top of her head and said into her hair, "I'm right here, Aeryn. I'm not going anywhere."
Then, a minor miracle occurred. Aeryn tilted her head up and touched her lips to his. The kiss was tentative at first, as if she wasn't quite sure of what she wanted to do. He gave no resistance, but let her take the lead. She deepened the kiss, gently probing the inside of his mouth with her tongue. John had fantasized about this moment for what seemed like ages, and he was quite sure that something would happen that would scare Aeryn off again. As if on cue, she pulled away from his embrace and took two deep breaths to compose herself. Conflicting emotions played over her face, and she stared at him for a space of five microts.
"Aeryn," John hissed as he caught his breath, "are you sure you want this? If not, I suggest that you leave now. Otherwise, it would be worse than what the Scarran did to me."
Her eyes got wide with realization. She didn't say a word, but ran her index finger up his chest from his navel to his throat. John caught his breath in a ragged gasp and felt an immediate tightness in his groin. He caught her hand in his and put her palm to his lips. She met his eyes, then gently pulled her hand away. She replaced it with her lips, kissing him so hard that he could feel her teeth. He laced his fingers in her thick hair and pulled her head back to get a better angle. Aeryn pushed him back down onto the bed and slid on top of him without breaking the kiss. She had him pinned, but he was still able to maneuver his hands down the lithe curves of her body. He found himself being the one to break the kiss and gasp for breath. He reached for the top of her vest. His fingers fumbled with the zipper, so she moved his hand out of the way and unzipped it herself. It disappeared as if by magic to reveal what was underneath. Her breasts were small and compact, like the rest of her. He reached up and cupped them into his hands, rubbing his thumb along her nipples. Aeryn let out a sharp hiss of pleasure as her nipples hardened to his touch. He continued playing with them for a while until it looked like she was ready for more. Pulling her down on top of him again, he kissed her neck, the indent at the base of her throat, then pushed her back up so that he had a better angle. His tongue circled her right breast, making a spiral until he took her nipple in his mouth. She gasped and her thighs tightened on his hips. He flicked his tongue back and forth over the nipple, then sucked it while continuing to rub her left nipple with his thumb. Aeryn's breathing was coming faster now. He left her nipple, and licked down between her breasts and up the other side. "No wonder," she said between gasps, "you were so fascinated with them when you were in my body."
He licked back up her left breast to her throat. "That's because I wanted to know what it felt like to do this," he answered.
"All right," she grinned and slid back down until the crotch of her leather pants was directly above his. She lowered her head, and her hair cascaded over his chest as she took his right nipple into her mouth and proceeded to imitate his actions. John felt an electric shock jump from his chest to his groin, and he groaned in pleasure. Aeryn looked up at him, pleased with the reaction that she'd caused. Then she continued her industrious exploration of his nipples with her tongue. Not to be outdone, he ran a fingernail down her spine and encountered her pants.
"Uh, Aeryn," he said and pushed her back up. "I hate to interrupt you, but this might be easier if we took off the rest of our clothes."
She looked down at herself, as if she'd just realized that she was still half-clothed. "Sorry," she said sheepishly, then peeled off her leather pants in several quick motions.
John, meanwhile, was having a bit more difficulty removing his undershorts without putting weight on his sprained ankle. "Um, I could use some help here," he asked. She moved toward him, and his breath caught in his throat. Her legs were well-muscled, her stomach flat, and a dark strip of curly hair peeked out from between her legs. On her stomach he saw puncture marks from where the vork had bitten her, and an older, deeper scar from where she was stabbed, among others that she'd gotten before they'd met.
"What?" she asked defensively when she noticed him staring at her naked body.
"You're beautiful," he answered as his breath caught in his throat.
She looked away, suddenly embarrassed. "Let's get those shorts off you before you rip them," she replied. Grasping the waistband, she pulled down while he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Thankfully, he didn't make a complete fool out of himself before he managed to struggle free of them. The tenseness eased a bit as his erection was released from the confining briefs. She straddled him and kissed him again. He reached between her body and his and ran his fingernail along the inside of her thigh. Aeryn responded by deepening her kiss and scooting up a bit to help him out. With one hand on her back to steady her, he moved his fingers from her thigh to explore her damp pubic area. His fingers traced her labia, then moved up to the tight nub of her clitoris - he was glad to see that Sebaceans shared that same part of their anatomy with Humans! She broke off the kiss, moaning and clutching his shoulders. While keeping his thumb on her nub, he tentatively inserted one finger into her. She threw her head back in surprised pleasure. He could feel the tension building in her with every stroke of his finger, and he was throbbing in response. It was time. He gently pulled his finger out of her. She took his cue, and raised herself above him. With his guidance, she slowly lowered herself on top of his erection. It was John's turn to gasp as her muscles enveloped him to the hilt, and they fell into a slow, steady rhythm. He kissed her, then reached down to cup her breasts in his hands. He pushed her up, so that she was almost vertical to him, and rubbed her nipples with his thumbs. Aeryn threw her head back with exquisite rapture, her hair framing her face like a black cloud. The pressure in John's body was almost unbearable. He wanted to try to control it, to keep it going as long as possible. Their tempo increased, and he felt the orgasm coming fast. He closed his eyes to concentrate.
"Oh, John! You're the best!" a raspy, mocking voice invaded his consciousness. John's eyes flew open in surprise. Scorpius was leering down at him, riding him instead of Aeryn! He was wearing an obscene leather bondage outfit that made him look like more of a refugee from Rocky Horror than usual. John screamed in terror and threw his hands up over his face, but his body betrayed him. His eyes rolled back in his head as the unstoppable force of his orgasm exploded outward like a lightning bolt from his groin to his brain. His hands clenched involuntarily as he felt Aeryn's internal muscles constrict around him, and she cried out and shook with her own orgasm.
After a few microts, John's brain and nervous system came back on-line, and he opened his eyes. Aeryn was stretched out on top of him again, and their arms were wrapped around each other. Her breath was a warm tickle on his breastbone. She still had her eyes closed, savoring the moment. He stroked her hair, wanting to make sure that it was her and not Scorpy. She opened her eyes, and moved one arm to cushion her chin as she looked into his face. He bent his head forward and met her lips with his. He didn't want to ruin this perfect moment, but he knew that he had to tell her what happened.
She broke off the kiss and studied his face intently. "Either you had a flashback at a critical moment, or your species reacts to intense stimulation in a very different way than Sebaceans do," she observed drily.
He hesitated and stroked her hair. "You know me too well," he replied.
"So, you had a flashback?"
John let out his breath in a long hiss and fell back onto the pillow. "I saw Scorpy. Right before I came, I saw him in place of you."
She frowned with concern. "John, you've just been through a serious mind-frell that you were lucky to survive. I'm not surprised that you're seeing Scorpius popping up every so often."
"But..." he started. "You don't think I'm cracking up?
She stroked a stray hair back from his forehead. "I think it's a miracle that you aren't." She gently disengaged from his flaccid organ, but stayed on top of him. He tightened his embrace and closed his eyes. She slid down to his side, and he made room for her on the narrow bed. She pulled him in, and he put his head on her shoulder, his face resting on the padding of her left breast. He started to shake involuntarily. "It's all right, John," she murmured into his hair, "you're safe now. Let it out." The analytical part of his mind was reveling in the irony of Aeryn, the kick-ass Peacekeeper commando, giving him permission to cry. Then again, the kick-ass commando wasn't the part of her that had just shared herself with him. "Let it out," she whispered, letting him know that it was okay to be vulnerable.
The tears welled up in his eyes. He let out a strangled cry, and the emotional barrier that he'd put up around the feelings broke free. As he sobbed, images from the torture slammed back into his consciousness. His mother, dead for five years before his flight, hooked up to an IV from her chemotherapy. DK with his wrists slashed. Dad trying to use his influence to make everything better. Rygel with that ridiculous cigar, and so on. Images flew rapid-fire through his tortured mind, and they wouldn't stop. Through it all, he clung to the touch of Aeryn's body, her hand rubbing his back, the musky scent of her skin mingled with the floral smell of her hair. John clung to her like a drowning man clinging to a life preserver. She rocked him, stroked his back, and reassured him for as long as he needed.
Finally, there were no tears left. He was empty inside. Aeryn shifted her position a bit, and he looked up at her face. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her cheeks were as wet as his. She touched his face, tracing his cheekbone with her finger. "Are you going to be all right?" she asked. Her forehead was creased with concern.
"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I don't know if I can fight it any more. But if I don't fight, I'll go mad. I'll be like one of those prisoners that you told me about - nothing but a hollow shell."
She kissed his forehead gently. "I won't let that happen. I promised you once before that I wouldn't let anything happen to you. I failed you this time, but I won't fail you again." As if to back up her statement, she held him tighter. "You're a fighter. You can beat this. You have to."
John looked up at her. "I don't know if I can," he admitted.
"I'll be here to help you," she said. "It'll be the toughest battle of your life, but it's one that you have to win."
They clung to each other, not saying a word, for a long time. Finally, John relaxed enough that he started to drift off to a hopefully dreamless sleep. Just before he faded away, he felt a hand stroke his hair, and Aeryn say low in her throat, "I love you, John." But then again, it might only have been a dream.