Where You Go.... (G)

Originally posted 1/25/04

Okay, I'm warning you up front, there's a major character death in this one. :'(

Blame John. He insisted.... But I think ultimately this fic is a good sad.... I hope....

This was supposed to be a conversation between Aeryn and her daughter Meara....

Rating: G (but, like I said, a death)
Setting: Some 60 years post-BT
Spoilers: Through BT
Disclaimer: Not my characters, not my universe, I'm making absolutely no money off of this!

Thanks very much to imloco2, shipscat, shipsister, and MadScientist for betaing and encouragement. Y'all helped a lot, especially when I was whining that I couldn't do this....

Where you go....

Aeryn sat as she always did, back straight, hands folded in her lap, and watched John's shallow breathing as he slept, lying on his back. Sixty cycles had brought far fewer changes to her body than to her husband's. True, she wasn't as trim as she'd been in her youth, and gray streaked her long black hair now, but even though she was a bit slower, she could run, she was strong, she could fight if need be.

And here was John, having reached an age greater than that which most of his species attained: hair grayed long ago, frame thin, face marked with lines from both joy and sorrow, and finally, in the last cycle or so, body failing, though his mind was intact... She sighed softly. It wouldn't be long now, and she would lose him again. She nibbled on her lower lip and looked away for a moment, determined not to let grief get a foothold just yet.

But even in this, even in dying, he was stubborn, holding out, she was sure, so he could say goodbye to all of their children, two of whom hadn't arrived yet from their own far-flung lives. It was so very like him, she gave him a smile, even though he was sleeping and wouldn't see it. She was sure he would feel its warmth even so.

When he went there'd be a hole left in her heart and soul that no one would or could ever fill...but for now, she refused to waste a microt of the time they had left together. So she sat beside the bed she'd made up for him in the living area of their small home so he wouldn't be shut away in the bedroom, talked with him when he was awake, looked after him, and willed him all of her strength for as long as he needed it....

A movement from the doorway that led to the dining room caught her attention and she turned her head. Meara was standing there, the youngest of their three children, though long an adult herself. Like all the children, Meara was aging more slowly than her father, faster than her mother. Even as a child, her looks and build had marked her obviously a Crichton, and at fifty-five cycles, she looked remarkably like John's sister Olivia had when Aeryn first met her. Meara's hair was black, not brown, but it had the same waves, and she favored the same look, loose and just past her shoulders. John used to tease that they'd gotten the girls' names backwards, because their Olivia, though she had the brown Crichton hair, had inherited Aeryn's angular beauty and blue-gray eyes.

Pulling her thoughts back to the here and now, Aeryn smiled wearily at her youngest, and Meara held out a cup of something hot and steaming, probably janot root tea, enticing her mother to come away for a little while.

Just the sight of the beverage made Aeryn realize how much she needed a break. She gave Meara a smile of gratitude, then stood up and stretched, rolling her back and shoulder muscles while she mentally satisfied herself that John was doing all right. Needing to touch him, but unwilling to do anything that might disturb his rest,
she leaned over and smoothed the soft blue blanket that was covering him, then stood up again and headed for her daughter.

Meara waited where she was with the cup of tea, and when her mother took it gratefully, led the older woman through the doorway into the dining room where she'd left a mug for herself. They settled themselves as had become routine over the past few days, Meara with her back to the living room, Aeryn opposite her so she could see John in case he should wake while she was gone. He looked so frail....

"Mom," Meara said sharply, dragging Aeryn's attention back to her daughter. "Take care of yourself. For just a little while...."

"Sorry," Aeryn replied. She took a great gulp of the hot tea, concentrating on the heat of the mug in her hands, and the taste of the liquid as it rolled down her throat and into her stomach. Trying to keep her mind from John, she strayed to the trivial. "It's too sweet," she said, nodding at the drink. "Just use one grodag crystal next time."

"I'm sorry, I knew that," Meara replied.

"I know," Aeryn told her gently. "We're neither one of us at our best, are we?" She put down the tea and raked the fingers of one hand through her hair, trying to smooth it. She was going to have to take the time to wash it soon....

Meara broke into her thoughts. "How can you be so...." she trailed off, searching for words.

"Strong?" Aeryn suggested, eying her. "Brave?"

Meara pursed her lips. "I was going to say unemotional. Or uncaring." She softened her words with a shake of the head. "I know that's not true, you're the most passionate person I know, and you and Dad...I've never known two people who loved each other more. But...."

"But why am I not crying?"

"Yes," Meara said, her own blue eyes filling with tears.

Aeryn reached out and took her daughter's hand. "There'll be time enough for tears later, Merry girl," she said, surprising herself as much as her daughter by using John's childhood nickname for her. "At least this time it's not a shock. Wake up in the morning, everything's fine, everything's perfect, and by nightfall, he's gone...." She picked up her tea again and took another gulp, so she missed Meara's quizzical look. "Have you heard anything from TJ or Olivia?" she asked, hoping they would arrive soon so John could let go.

Meara shook her head. "Not yet." She paused for another drink of tea herself and then said, "He's waiting for them, isn't he?"

Aeryn smiled softly. "You always did understand him the best of all our children. It must have been the wormholes." She sighed, because wormholes were the thing that distanced her from her youngest child. Oh, she'd never call them estranged. She loved her daughter dearly, as she did all her children, but still, Meara had been John's "wormhole buddy" from the age of two, and Aeryn found it difficult to see anything of herself in this daughter.

"I thought, when I got here and saw how frail he is, that maybe he was fighting to stay with you. That he didn't want you to be alone."

Aeryn shook her head and tried not to let the pain in. Of course he didn't want to leave her, any more than she wanted him to go. But... "We always knew that unless I died in battle, or from some other consequence of the life we led when you were young, John would go before me." She gazed over Meara's shoulder at the quiet figure in the next room. "You know how much he hated growing older, but I think he's made his peace with it now. It's his time." This time she did blink back a hint of tears.

Meara reached across the table and took her mother's hands and squeezed. "Are you all right? Really? I can't imagine losing Derak," she said, speaking of her husband, who hadn't been able to take a leave from his position and had remained at their home on Modjeska. As Aeryn opened her mouth to speak, Meara added, "Don't brush me off with what you think I want to hear."

Since that was exactly what she'd been about to do, Aeryn closed her mouth again and reconsidered. At last she said truthfully, "Merry, losing him at all is too soon for me, but I've had sixty cycles with him that I shouldn't have had. I can't complain." She shied away from seeing another hundred cycles or more laid out ahead of her, cycles without John Crichton at her side. "It was nearly unbearable to lose him once, but I'll manage better this time, and he knows that. It's not me that's keeping him here," she added, returning to her daughter's earlier observation.

Meara was quiet for a long time, and Aeryn couldn't help but wonder why. Finally the younger woman cleared her throat and said, "Mom, you keep saying, 'this time.' What do you mean by that? People only die once."

Amused in spite of herself, Aeryn drawled, "Not when they're John Crichton. Then anything is possible."

Meara smiled at that, because they'd always laughed about her father being The Great John Crichton, but she wasn't willing to be diverted. "Not even Dad could come back from the dead."

"I didn't say he did!" Aeryn said sharply, angry with herself. This was what she got for indulging in sentiment, dredging up ancient history. But thinking back over the conversation she knew she'd made far too many unconscious references to John's long-ago death, and Meara, being her father's daughter, wouldn't let it go without some kind of explanation, much good it would do her.

She pulled her hands out of Meara's grip and folded them together in front of her on the table, and tried to tell the tale in the simplest terms possible. "Many cycles ago, before we were married, John was...twinned, I guess is the word. There were two John Crichtons in the Uncharted Territories for perhaps half a cycle. And one of them...died." Odd that she still choked on that word, all this time later. In all the cycles -- glorious cycles -- she'd spent with the man who was sleeping in the next room, when she thought of the other one at all, it had been with affection for the happy times they'd had. Now, she couldn't help remembering the pain of his death as well. "You've heard me talk many times about my Peacekeeper past," she reminded her daughter. "I wasn't long past those days when John died. I was still an infant, emotionally, and I had no idea how to cope with losing the man I loved."

Trying to make sense of the story, Meara asked, "And then you met...the other one? You met Dad?"

"No," Aeryn said, shaking her head and grinning just a little at the irony. "Then I ran away from him."

The expression in Meara's eyes went from puzzled to guarded, and she examined her mother critically, as if the older woman had completely lost her mind.

Irritated, Aeryn responded, "Don't look at me like that, Meara. I'm not going senile, and I'm not going fahrbot with grief, either. Ask John when he wakes up, he'll tell you it's true."

Meara turned in her chair and looked over at her father, still asleep in the next room. As she gazed at him, she gnawed on her lower lip. For once, Aeryn thought she knew exactly what was going through her daughter's mind. If my mother is willing to disturb a dying man's peace with a story like that, it must be true. Finally, looking a bit less skeptical, Meara looked back at her mother. "Why haven't I heard about this twin before? It has to have been what, over sixty cycles ago. That's a long time to keep a family secret."

"It was never meant to be a secret, it was just...complicated. Painful." She shook her head. "There wasn't really any point in telling you when you were children. And then when you were grown, it was just the distant past. John and I had our life together, a good life. The other one was gone, and I hardly ever even thought about him." Until now, Aeryn's mind insisted on reminding her, and she closed her eyes for a moment, working at keeping control. And then, because she was trying to be honest with her daughter, she cleared her throat and repeated aloud, "Until now, when I can't help thinking about him...going...." She paused, then added, "Truthfully, I thought perhaps your father had told you. The other John, the one who died, he died for wormholes. Well, wormholes and peace."

This time it was Meara who closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, she was on the verge of belief. "He said that those of us who understood wormholes had a responsibility to protect them. That we had to be ready to die if that was what we had to do to keep them out of the wrong hands." She looked over at her father again, and then back to her mother. "He said it more than once. But he never said anything about a double, just Einstein."

"No, I suppose not," Aeryn said vaguely. No matter that her mind kept wandering off into it, she didn't want to think about the past right now. She had the present to deal with, and that was more than enough. "I don't want to talk about this any more," she said abruptly, looking away. After a pause, she added, "Not now." After another short silence, she looked back at Meara and promised, "If you really want to know, I will tell you about it. Later." After your father is gone, she left unspoken.

Meara searched her mother's eyes for a few microts, and then let it go. "All right. When you're up to it."

"Thank you," Aeryn said, meaning it, and raised her mug in salute.

Meara apparently decided it was time to go back to mothering her mother. "You're completely worn out, Mom. You should go take a nap, or at least a shower."

Considering it, Aeryn glanced into the living room. An almost electric shock ran through her when she saw that John was awake. Those beautiful blue eyes of his were watching her hungrily, as if he were storing up images to take with him when he left.

She was on her feet immediately, striding around the dining room table and into the living room in no time. She sat down on the edge of the bed beside him, carefully so as not to jostle him too much, and smiled at the face that she knew so well. "Did you have a good sleep?" she asked.

The look John shot her was pure Crichton, full of irritation that sleep was about all he was good for any more. He didn't deign to answer. "What you been doing?" he asked instead, his voice low and husky with age and infirmity. He cleared his throat and waited for her answer.

"I've been having some janot tea with Merry," she told him, nodding at their daughter, who'd followed her into the room.

John followed her gaze with his eyes, and smiled at Meara.

"Hey, Dad," she said.

"Shoulda brought Derak," he enunciated slowly. "Must be boring....with just....us old folks." How he managed to be impish when he barely had breath to get the words out was a mystery.

Meara couldn't help but laugh at him, and shook her head ruefully. "I'm fine, Dad, you know that. As if life could be boring around you two!"

Aeryn turned back to John just in time to see a wide grin split his face. Unconsciously sitting up straighter to help hold on to her dignity and her emotions, she asked him, "Would you like some tea?"

"That would be...nice," he agreed.

"I'll get it," Meara volunteered quickly.

"Not too hot," Aeryn called after her as she headed for the kitchen. "And two grodag crystals. No, make it three!"

"I know, Mom," Meara called back, exasperation in her voice.

John coughed softly, a symptom of his overworked lungs, and croaked, "Don't fuss, woman."

Aeryn smoothed his thin white hair with her fingers. It was amazingly soft, and it soothed her as much as it soothed him for her to play with the wispy strands. It gave her the courage to say, "I won't be able to do it much longer, will I?"

They searched each other's eyes for just a few microts, and then John cleared his throat and leaned his head in her direction. "Fuss away, Baby....You...fuss away," he allowed.

She ran her eyes over him, hoping to see some sign of improvement, some sign that the inevitable might wait a bit longer. But they both knew there wasn't going to be a miracle, so she pushed aside the hope and said, "Let's get you up, all right? Easier to drink tea if you're sitting."

He nodded and when she leaned down, he lifted his arm up to wrap it around her shoulder, and allowed her to help him to a sitting position. He was so thin... She propped two pillows behind his back and pulled the blanket smoothly over his lap. When he was settled, he cleared his throat and asked, "TJ? Liv?"

She hid her sigh, and said, "Not yet. Soon, I think, though." Please let it be soon, she thought. Not that she didn't want every microt she could get with this man who was the love of her life, but even John Crichton couldn't hold out forever, and she hated to think of him going with this one last wish unfulfilled. She cupped his cheek with her hand and assured him, "You know they want to be here."

In response, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist and held her hand against his face. A slight turn of his head let him kiss her palm gently, and she grinned at him.

Waiting for Meara to come back with John's tea, Aeryn chattered about inconsequentials, like the weather (stormy), and a sports team he liked (they lost their latest match), and whether their nearest neighbor was going to get that frelling stabilizer on his transport fixed before he ran some innocents off the road. It was an odd feeling for someone as taciturn as her to be carrying both halves of the conversation, but she managed it somehow. John's smiling face was reward enough, and she concentrated on it completely.

She was taken totally by surprise when Meara returned without the expected tea.

"Dad?" she said, when both her parents turned to look at her. Her face was a mix of emotions. "I just heard from Teej and Livvy. They've left the space port in a shuttle, they'll be here soon."

Soon. The way TJ piloted, that meant about a quarter of an arn. Soon.

Meara saw them lock eyes, and she backed out of the room.

"See," Aeryn said, just a hint of moisture beginning to pool in her eyes. "They're here."

John smiled at her and some of the residual tension went out of his body.

At first Aeryn was pleased to see him relax, and then she realized his breathing was slowing, and his eyes were beginning to take on a faraway expression.

No! No, no, no! Not now!

Frantic, she took his face firmly in her hands and pressed her forehead against his, willing her life force to him one last time. "You listen to me, John Crichton," she said, her voice low and urgent. "You are not leaving before your children get here! Do you hear me? You've waited this long, you can wait another quarter of an arn! You're not going yet!"

Held steadfastly in her embrace, John took a deep breath that was almost a gasp, pulling air into his lungs. He coughed slightly and said, "Wouldn't...dream of it, baby. I'm here...I'm here."

She almost collapsed on him in relief, wished she could collapse on him, take comfort in his arms one more time. "Promise?" she whispered.

"Promise," he said, voice stronger than it had been in days.

She rubbed his nose with hers and sat back just a little, tears threatening to overwhelm her. Now that they were face to face with this moment, she wanted more than ever to let him go in peace, so she took a deep breath and forced herself to smile, and he smiled back, shaking his head just a little to let her know he understood.

In sixty cycles of laughing and loving, fighting and crying, of joys and sorrows -- in short, sixty cycles of living -- the bond that had appeared between them the moment they met had grown and deepened. In all the ways that mattered, their souls were in complete harmony.... There was little left to say, words nearly unnecessary between them. She looked in John's eyes, and saw he felt the same. There remained only those last few things that each wanted to be sure the other took on the journey ahead....

Aeryn leaned in to kiss him gently. He lifted his gray head into her kiss, warm and loving as always. She closed her eyes, memorizing the moment.

When she opened them again and sat back, John reached for her hands and held them more firmly than she expected he could. "You made me....a better person," he said, and she almost, almost laughed at him. Of course. What else would he say?

She bit her lip, and then did give him a broad smile, despite everything. "That's what you said last time."

He gave her a wistful grin and said seriously, "I know."

She believed him. They'd never really figured out just how much connection there'd been between him and the twin who'd gone before him. There were things he remembered, and things that he didn't. Perhaps he'd find out the truth now....

"Aer'n," he whispered, "You 'member now....Where I'm goin'...." He swallowed, and searched her eyes, waiting for her answer.

She sniffled softly, and nodded. "I know. I can't follow. Not yet," she vowed. She would find him when her time came, if there was any way she could.

"Not yet," he agreed, accepting her promise. She knew he would hold her to it, if there was any way he could.

She kissed him again, sealing the bargain.

They both heard the sound of a transport landing outside, and John took a breath to say one last thing before their children descended on them. "I'd'a been....lost....without you."

Tears welling up again, she told him, "You gave me the life my parents created me for, John Crichton. I think we're even."

His mouth curved in a gentle smile and he nodded.

And then all three of their children swept into the room, along with TJ and Olivia's families. Aeryn squeezed John's hand and stood up beside the bed. TJ, looking so much like his father when she'd first known him, hugged her tightly, and headed immediately to his father's bedside, and Olivia followed suit. Meara patted her on the shoulder and tagged along after her siblings, the way she'd done as a child.

Clinging tightly to the last of her control, Aeryn moved a few motras away, to give TJ and Livvy and Merry a last little time with their father. She stood, surrounded by her children's mates and her grandchildren, and let their words of sympathy and sorrow wash over her. She'd known this day would come, had accepted that it would, but that didn't do anything to stop the pain. It was as bad now as it had been all those cycles ago. All she could do was endure, and know that this time, she had the strength -- and the support -- to emerge on the other side. She barely noticed as the rest of the family drifted over to John in ones and twos to say their goodbyes.

It seemed hardly any time at all before her son called sharply, "Mom!"

As if in a dream, she hurried back to the bed and sat down beside the love of her life one last time.

"I love you," he whispered, and she saw the light in his eyes begin to fade.

"I love you too," she breathed. She kissed him, one more time, and when she knew he was gone, she whispered, "Fly safe."

Then she put her head on his shoulder and let the tears come.