Originally posted 4/5/06This fic was written for the third Starburst Challenge at Terra Firma. The theme was to write about religious or spiritual or ritual beliefs of some member(s) of Moya's crew.
I tried, I really did, to have this be Aeryn and Noranti. I thought Noranti's views on matters spiritual would be very interesting indeed. But no matter what I did -- even trying to set the story right after Aeryn's rescue from the Scarrans, when she was more emotionally vulnerable -- I couldn't get her to open up to Noranti. What can I say? She knows her own mind.... So, it's Aeryn and John....
Thanks to imloco2, shipsister and MadScientist for a look-see and a few very helpful suggestions. This was written pretty much entirely under the influence of Dayquil, so....blame any inconsistancies on the drugs, LOL!
Rating: G
Setting: About half a cycle after PKW
Spoilers: Through PKW
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not my universe, no money being made!
Prayer 101
"Well, what do you think, little guy," John asked of his six-month-old son, who was comfortably seated on the crook of his arm as they walked through Moya's corridors. "Will Mommy have everything all fixed by the time we get back?"
Little D blew bubbles at him and grinned.
"Oh, is that what you think?" John grinned back at the baby. "Mama can do anything? Well, I think you're just about right there, buddy." He suspected she was still pissed that he'd grabbed the chance for diaper duty, though, leaving her to squirm into the accessway to a clogged conduit they'd been trying to repair.
He rounded the corner, wondering if Aeryn was still scrunched inside. Nope. She was sitting on the floor outside the entrance to the maintenance hatch, knees up, absently rubbing one side of her abdomen with her hand. She appeared to be contemplating a basketball-sized wad of fabric about the color of deli mustard that sat on the floor in front of her.
She looked up at him, some undecipherable expression on her face.
"So, that's what was gumming up the works?" he ventured, putting the baby back in his corral.
"Apparently so."
"Couldn't the DRD's get it out?"
"Apparently not."
She still looked faintly disturbed, and he asked, "What is it?" Good god, it wasn't alive, was it? He suppressed a shiver as that thought crossed his mind.
Aeryn gave him an ironic smile and reached for the bundle. She shook it out and held it up in front of her.
Aw, hell! Even though it was too long to hang free with Aeryn still sitting on the ground, he had no trouble recognizing it. It was the shapeless, um, hospital gown, for lack of a better term, that she'd been wearing when he rescued her from the Scarrans two-thirds of a cycle before.... "I told Noranti to burn that!" he said, furious that the past had come back to distress his wife.
"Evidently she didn't," she said, dropping the rumpled garment to the floor with a grimace of distaste.
They stared at each other, reliving the nightmare of those days. He'd been terrified that he'd lost her for good, and he could only imagine how frightened she'd been, not to mention how much those bastards had hurt her. He could still see the fear in her eyes as clear as if it were yesterday, still hear the way her voice had trembled when she'd asked if the baby was all right. He'd barely gotten there in time, and his life would have been so empty now without her.... "Thank God I got you back," he blurted.
Aeryn's eyes hardened. "There was no deity involved.
You found me."
He wrinkled his brow, wondering what had brought that on. He caught her eye, and saw something was bothering her beyond the torture she'd suffered. "Want to tell me about it?"
"No."
"But you will."
She draped her hands over her knees and looked away from him.
He knew he had her, and he dropped into a crouch, and then settled himself down on the floor.
Still looking at Moya's golden ribs, she spoke softly. "I prayed." She turned back to him and repeated, "I prayed that you would find me. I prayed for a sign that you were coming. I prayed."
She
what? "You
prayed?" If he'd been drinking something, he would have sprayed it across the room, it was that funny to imagine his self-reliant soldier praying. But she glared at him, hurt only barely hidden beneath the anger, and he got serious. He cleared his throat and asked, "Who to?"
She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. The only Sebacean god I'd ever heard of. But she didn't answer." After a pause, she added, "I knew that you would come for me, and the baby, if you could find me, but--"
He understood exactly what she meant. When the Scarrans had grabbed her, she'd been a very small needle in a very large haystack, and he'd had only one tiny clue to follow. "Katratzi." It was a miracle that he'd been able to unravel it and track her down, get her back.
Miracle. It
was pretty miraculous, him even remembering that he'd heard "Katratzi" back on the Bizzaro Moya, much less getting the location he needed from Siko-Stark.... He reached out and touched Aeryn's cheek. Sure, he was pig-headed, and had had no intention of giving up the search, but...that image on the videotape that jogged his memory.... "I'm no expert on prayer, Aeryn, but maybe she did answer you, partly, anyway."
She frowned.
"No, I mean it. You said you prayed for me to find you, and I did, when I shouldn't have been able to. No way in hell."
"But you remembered yourself," she protested. "
You went back to the other Moya. Djancaz-Bru had nothing to do with it."
"Maybe yes, maybe no," John said, suddenly loathe to dismiss a god who just might have led him back to the woman who truly was his other half, might have given him the chance to save her life, and that of the beautiful baby boy over there crawling around his corral. "Prayer works in mysterious ways," he said, paraphrasing his Aunt Ruth's favorite saying about God. "She might'a helped me remember."
Aeryn remained skeptical. "Well, she certainly didn't give me a sign you were coming."
John cocked his head sideways. "Well, you don't always get the answer you want when you pray, that's what they always told me in Sunday School. Maybe this Jinka Brew thought it would be better somehow if you
didn't get a sign."
"Or maybe she just didn't care. They say she destroyed six worlds of her followers, just because she could."
"Maybe she didn't," he agreed, because he wasn't much of a guy for prayer himself, and he certainly didn't want to fight over religion. "But maybe we should say thank you anyway." Aeryn squinted at him. He shrugged. "If she's that capricious, we don't want to piss her off."
Her gray eyes widened in amusement. "Perhaps you're right at that," she said, and glanced towards the ceiling. "Thank you, Djancaz-Bru."
"Amen," he agreed softly, staring at the ceiling himself.
After a few moments of silence, Aeryn stirred herself and said, "Well, I think we're going to have to finish this ourselves. I got the clog out," she added, nodding at the fabric on the floor.
She was right. No god he'd ever heard of did your regular chores for you. He bit the bullet. "Guess it's my turn to crawl in there and make sure there's nothing else wrong, huh?"
"Yes," she said, her brilliant smile promising rewards later.
He took the torch from her and wriggled his way into the tunnel, looking for any damage. Behind him, he could hear Aeryn chattering to their son, and the little guy jabbering back at her. No matter who was responsible for them being here with him now, safe and sound, he hoped they'd never again get into a situation where a little divine intervention was needed....
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