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“Listen, uh - Anything I said, I uh-”
“Ah - I know. Me too.” Aeryn cut across him, her voice soft but unsteady.
Her eyes met his for only a fraction of a microt, but it was enough for John to see the depths of hurt in them. Aeryn glanced away, her jaw set in that familiar, stubborn line, one John knew too well- the practiced indifference that did little to mask her discomfort. Her expression was blank, but her body screamed a need to flee.
Without another word, Aeryn turned quickly on her heel and strode out of Command, her pace swift but controlled, like she was willing herself not to run.
John stayed rooted to the spot, his stomach twisting as her retreating footsteps echoed down the corridor.
“Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall,” he muttered to no one in particular. “And all the king’s horses and all the king’s men... Hey, Zhaan, how do we take it all back?”
Zhaan, who had been quietly watching them from across the room, turned her serene gaze toward him. Her calm presence, usually a balm, did little to ease the knot in his chest.
“I don’t know,” she admitted gently, her voice carrying the weight of compassion and helplessness.
“Y-ah,” John whispered in reply, staring out the front portal, eyes unfocused, thoughts solely on his sickening guilt and Aeryn .
After a few long moments of silence, John heard Zhaan exit the room, her footsteps quietly padding away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
John groaned, running both hands through his hair in frustration and speaking out loud to himself. “Great. Just great. Everything I said- everything we said- none of it was us. But it’s still stuck there, like some damn oil spill we can’t clean up. Frell .”
—
Cargo Bay Three stretched vast and silent, the only sound the distant hum of Moya's biomechanical systems. It had taken John nearly two hours to find Aeryn- a search made longer and more frustrating by the fact that her comms were switched off.
Stomach churning with guilt and apprehension, he finally found her tucked into a far corner, a pulse rifle in pieces, abandoned at her feet. The tools she'd brought with her were scattered haphazardly around, untouched. She wasn’t even pretending to work anymore, her gaze fixed on some invisible point in the distance, lost in thought.
“Hey?” John said softly, breaking the silence as he edged closer to Aeryn.
She barely reacted, her gaze shifting to him with a slow blink, as though pulling herself out of whatever thoughts had consumed her. “Hey,” she replied, her voice quiet but steady.
John crouched down a few feet away, giving her space but close enough to show he wasn’t going anywhere. He glanced at the scattered tools and the forgotten pulse rifle pieces. “Looks like you’ve been busy… or, you know, not. ”
Aeryn’s lips twitched, but it wasn’t quite a smile. “Didn’t feel like finishing,” she admitted, her tone carrying a weariness he rarely heard from her.
“Yeah, well, can’t blame you,” John said, his voice soft and edged with quiet understanding. He shifted, leaning back on his heels as his gaze lingered on her. After a moment, he hesitated, then spoke again, his tone tentative. “Can we talk?”
He worried his bottom lip with his thumb, his eyes fixed on her, watching closely for any flicker of reaction, unsure if she’d let him in or shut him out.
Aeryn let out a slow breath, her eyes flickering back to the rifle parts at her feet. “I don’t know. Maybe. You’ll still want to even if I say no- right?,” she murmured softly, looking up and watching his face with a slight frown creasing her brow.
John felt frustration and guilt start to war in his chest, “I’m sorry, I just can’t let it stand the way it is. What I said-”
Aeryn sighed and cut him off, “Traltixx messed with all of us, Crichton. You know that, right? None of it was real- not what we said, not how we felt in the moment- what we
did.
He frelled with everything. That wasn’t
us.
”
John watched as Aeryn’s jaw tightened and she looked away, she was annoyed but he couldn’t let it rest.
“I know,” John said at last, his voice heavy with the weight of his thoughts. “I’ve been telling myself that, over and over. But, Aeryn…” He leaned forward, his voice steady but laced with quiet intensity. “That bastard didn’t just manipulate us- he reached into the deepest, ugliest parts of our minds and twisted them. Look at D’Argo- he almost killed Rygel over a plate of crackers!”
He stopped, dragging a hand through his hair, frustration radiating off him. “I keep replaying it. The things I said to Chi, to you… Aeryn, it wasn’t me. It wasn’t what I thought, but hearing those god-awful words come outta my mouth-” He broke off, shaking his head. “It was like staring into a version of myself I don’t even want to exist. And that version… it hurt you.”
Her gaze lifted then, her eyes locking with his once more. For a fleeting moment, he caught a glimpse of something unguarded, something raw. “You think you hurt me?” she asked softly, her voice low but steady. “John, I said things too. Things I…” She drew a sharp breath, her shoulders stiffening. “I told myself it didn’t matter. That you could take it. But then I saw your face.”
“We both got hurt,” John concluded, his voice softening, his sincerity shining through. “But none of it was real. None of it. We can’t let it ruin this- ruin us. Traltixx is dead.” He gestured between them, his expression open, almost pleading. “We’re all still here. Still standing. Everyone will move past this eventually- won’t they?” John could hear the panic slipping into his voice even as he desperately tried to squash it.
Aeryn studied him in silence, her gaze searching his face for something he couldn’t name. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she gave a small nod. Her shoulders eased, just the faintest sign of letting go. “Maybe,” she whispered, the word carrying the barest trace of hope.
“Maybe’s a start,” John replied, heart leaping, and offered her a small, crooked smile.
He reached down, picking up the rifle body and setting it on the crate beside her. “Tell you what- how about we try fixing one thing at a time? Start with this.”
Aeryn looked at the rifle, then at him, her lips quirking in the faintest hint of a smile. “You have no idea how to fix that.”
“Nope,” John said in what he hoped was a cheerful tone. “But I’ve got all the time in the world to figure it out. If you’re up for it?”
Her smile widened just a touch, and she reached for a nearby tool, holding it out to him. “You’re going to regret saying that,” she teased lightly. Then, her tone softened. “But please, John- no more talk about Traltixx.”
John let out a heavy sigh, his chest still tight with lingering unease. “Fine. No more Traltixx,” he muttered, his heart and stomach refusing to settle. Taking the tool from her hand, he slid down to the floor beside her with a quiet “hmph.”
As he adjusted his position, he became aware of her watchful gaze on him. When he looked up, he found her closer than he'd expected- close enough to see the faint lines of tension easing from her expression, the softness in her eyes.
“Seriously, John,” she said, her voice calm yet resolute, like she was trying to anchor him. “It’s fine. We’re fine. ”
Before he could respond, her hands rose, cupping his face with a tenderness that stole the breath from his lungs. Her fingers were cool but steady, brushing lightly against his jaw, grounding him in a way words never could.
Her eyes held his for a heartbeat longer, searching, as if she were looking for some unspoken truth between them. Then, without hesitation, she leaned in.
It happened so quickly, so effortlessly, that John barely had time to process it. One moment, he was frozen under her touch; the next, her lips met his in a kiss that was soft yet deliberate, a quiet declaration wrapped in warmth and purpose.
His eyes fluttered shut as he instinctively leaned into her, the tension he’d been carrying slipping away in the wake of her touch. The kiss wasn’t rushed or desperate- it was steady, reassuring.
When Aeryn finally pulled back, her hands lingered on his face, her thumbs brushing gently along his cheekbones. Her breath mingled with his as she stayed close, her eyes searching his again, but this time, there was no uncertainty in her expression.
“See?” she said softly, her lips curving into the faintest of smiles. “We’re fine.”
John exhaled shakily, a breathless laugh slipping out despite the storm of emotions roiling inside him. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice rough and uneven. “We’re fine.” He repeated, trying so hard to convince himself she was right, even as his gut continued to churn.
Without thinking, acting purely on instinct, John reached up and wrapped his arms around her, his touch firm yet careful, almost afraid she might slip away.
Slowly, he pulled her over to straddle his lap, half-expecting her to resist. But Aeryn didn’t. To his surprise, she let him guide her, settling into his lap with a quiet confidence that sent his heart racing. Her hands found their place on his chest, fingers splaying lightly over the soft fabric of his t-shirt, her touch grounding and electric all at once.
He was keenly aware of everything about her- the slight weight of her legs against his thighs, the feel of her palms resting over his heartbeat, the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. His gaze, however, was irresistibly drawn to her lips. They were still slightly parted, soft and glistening, her breath quickening in time with his. She was just as affected as he was, her composure visibly cracking at the edges.
John tilted his head forward, closing the small distance between them. His lips brushed hers- tentative but deliberate- a silent question he dared not voice aloud. Aeryn answered without hesitation. Her hands slid upward, curling over his shoulders as she kissed him back, deeper this time, clearly enjoying and wanting more of their connection.
John lost himself in the kiss, his body on autopilot seeking her comfort as he leaned closer, one hand settling on the curve of her waist. The other moved up to cradle the back of her head, fingers tangling in her long, soft strands. The world around them faded, the hum of Moya’s systems distant and inconsequential.
When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling in the small space between them. John’s voice broke the silence, low and strained.
“I know you said no more talk, but I just can’t stop hearing it all, Aeryn. I didn’t mean any of it… the things I said.” His eyes searched hers, desperate for an answer he couldn’t give himself. “I can’t stop hearing it, Aeryn. I can’t-”
“John. Stop. ” Aeryn’s voice was firm but gentle, her hands sliding back to cradle his face. Her thumbs traced soothing circles against his jaw as her gaze locked onto his, steady and unyielding. “You didn’t mean it. Neither did I. You said it yourself- that wasn’t us. That was him .”
John’s jaw tensed, and he looked away, shame flickering across his features. His eyes met hers again after a moment, raw and uncertain. “What if some of it- what if some part of me-”
“No,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “You’re a lot of things, John Crichton, but you’re not that man. You never will be.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, her forehead pressing against his. “We’re good. Do you hear me?”
John closed his eyes, his breath hitching as he leaned into her. Aeryn’s hands were steady, sliding over his shoulders, down his back, the kind of touch that didn’t demand anything but gave everything he needed. He clung to her, his arms tightening around her waist, holding on as though she were the only thing keeping him from falling apart.
Her cheek pressed against his temple, and he turned his face to nuzzle into her neck, inhaling the familiar scent of her, something clean and sharp and unmistakably Aeryn. It hit him harder than it should have, the familiarity of it, the way it cut through the tension coiled tight in his chest.
Her hands kept moving, slow and deliberate, fingertips skimming over the muscles in his back. Every stroke was a reminder that she was there, solid and real, when everything else still felt fractured and wrong.
He buried himself deeper against her, his breath catching as her fingers slid up into his hair. She didn’t say anything, didn’t pull away. She just held him, her grip firm enough to anchor him but gentle enough not to smother.
His hands flexed against her back, searching for something he couldn’t put into words. The warmth of her, the steady rhythm of her breathing- it was enough to quiet the chaos in his head and heart. For now, at least.
The silence stretched on, broken only by the faint hum of Moya around them and the distant creaks and beeps of the DRDs scuttling about. John didn’t know how long they sat there, but he felt the tension in his body start to ease, his breaths evening out as hers did the same. His thighs and backside were starting to feel a little numb from the hard floor, but it was worth it to experience such a rare moment of close comfort with Aeryn.
They had only once before held each other this close, for this long- back on the Ancients’ fake Earth. That memory flickered in his mind now, unbidden but welcome. He remembered the warmth of her body against his, the quiet intimacy of that night in his dad’s safe house. It wasn’t just the physical closeness; it was the way she’d let her guard down, if only for a little while.
Here, now, aboard Moya, it felt just as rare.
Finally, reluctantly, he pulled back just enough to see her face. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, he couldn’t bring himself to look away. There was something in her gaze that steadied him, something he didn’t deserve but couldn’t bring himself to let go of.
She raised a hand to his face, her thumb brushing along his jaw in a way that sent a shiver through him. He leaned into the touch, closing his eyes briefly, letting the moment wash over him.
When he opened them again, his voice came quietly, rough around the edges as emotion tightened in his throat. “I don’t ever want to hurt you.”
Aeryn’s gaze lifted, meeting his once more. “I don’t want to hurt you either,” she replied, her voice breaking slightly. “But we’re both good at it, aren’t we?”
The sadness in her voice and the regret in her eyes made John’s chest ache. Without second guessing himself, he leaned forward, capturing her lips in a kiss that was anything but light. It wasn’t about passion or desire- it was about pulling her back from that place, that weight they both carried but didn’t deserve.
Aeryn kissed him back just as fiercely, her breath catching as the kiss deepened. Her hands tangled in his hair, fingers tightening as her nails scraped lightly against his scalp, sending a shiver down his spine that he felt all the way to his toes.
The kiss was brief, however, as Aeryn soon pulled back, a little breathless but with a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Come on,” she said, her voice steadying as she leaned back. “We can’t stay here all evening. I need to fix my rifle in case we get any more unwanted guests.”
John chuckled, the sound light despite the lingering tension between them. “Only you would prioritise firepower over a perfectly good moment like this.”
She arched an eyebrow, her smile growing just a little. “Firepower keeps us alive, John. Moments like this are just a bonus.”
With that, she shifted out of his lap, graceful as always, and stood. John stayed seated for a beat, watching her with an amused shake of his head before she turned and extended a strong hand toward him.
“Come on,” she said again, her tone teasing now.
John grabbed her hand, letting her tug him to his feet. “Fine, fine,” he said, brushing himself off. “But next time, I’m vetoing the rifle for at least five more minutes- microns .”
Aeryn smirked, already moving toward her gear. “You can try,” she tossed back over her shoulder.
As she busied herself with her rifle, John found himself lingering, watching her with a faint smile. Despite everything- the fights, the chaos, the constant danger- moments like this reminded him why they kept going. Why he kept going.
He grabbed a spare tool from the table and leaned against the bulkhead in a pose he hoped looked casual-cool. “Need a hand?” he offered.
Aeryn glanced up at him, her expression softening just a fraction before she shook her head. “You’d just slow me down. I’ll teach you properly another time.”
“Fair enough,” John replied, his grin widening. He didn’t need to help, anyway.
Just being close to her was enough.
Fin.