And here is the next installment of my little ode to the bad boy in Crichton.
The characters ain't mine and I will not make any money out of them no matter how much I'd like to. But you all knew that.
And remember, feedback. I need feedback to know if I'm doing it right.


Not John Crichton II

Pain.

Lot's of pain. Really strong pain. /I guess you didn't manage to kill yourself after all, Kemo Sabe./ 'Cause sure as Hell being dead could NOT be this painful. Then again, he'd never been dead before, if you didn't count that little misunderstanding with D'Argo a couple of monens back, that was the other him. He got to do everything before him, didn't he? He got the girl before him. He went and got to be a gosh-darned honest-to-God self sacrificing hero before him. Hezmana, he even got to go out fightin' and die before him!! He should ask Aeryn about that, she'd been dead before. She should know if it hurt.

/That settles it. If I I'm able to lie here and feel pity on myself whilst in scruciating pain and am able to consider asking Aeryn to recall the time I killed her... Yeah, I'd pretty much say Mama Crichton's baby boy is alive and kickin'./ With that humbling thought, John Crichton, human, astronaut and poster boy for hopeless causes and self-kicking romantics across this galaxy and the next, opened his eyes.

Or tried to. Who knew the simple action of opening one's eyes could hurt so much and on so many new and interesting levels? "God, John," A throaty wisper escaped his lips. "What were you thinking?"

***

"Yes," The cool, sensuous voice of his dreams retorted. "what were you thinking?"

At that Crichton froze. Well, as much as he could in his current condition. "Uh... Aeryn?" /Famous last words, boyo./

***

"What were you thinking, John? Were you thinking at all?" /Uh, babe, where do you come off caring all of a sudden?/ "Did it ever occur to you what your actions would do to us?" /Oh, no. You better not be going where I think you're going./ "To me?" And with the sound of those two words reverberating through his being, John Crichton ignored his aching body and literally sprung from the medcot he'd been laid on.

Once on his feet, eyes blazing and voice hoarse from the pain he was enduring, he laid into the former peacekeeper both barrels blasting away.

"Where do you come off talking to me about your feelings and your pain? It's not always about you, babe. This time it truly isn't about you. It's about how I feel. It's about how you make me feel." At that, Aeryn's angry features softened somewhat, giving a glimpse of her surprise at John's behaviour. But the astronaut was too far gone by now.

"You sanctimonious little shit!! As if only you had ever suffered a loss. As if only you knew how it is to deal with unbearable amounts of pain. Or guilt. Or pent up passion or whatever emotion is currently overwhelming you! Welcome to my frellin' life, sweetheart! You just discovered what feelings were and their effects. But the rest of us have been dealing with them all of our lives." Somewhat detachedly, John was aware he was on a roll and that Aeryn probably didn't deserve all of which he was laying at her doorstep. But the dam had broken for him and she was the catalyst as much as the main reason of all of his emotional and most of his physical grief. So he plowed on.

"Have you thought of asking D'Argo how he deals with the betrayal by his lover and his own son? Or how about the fact Chiana cannot EVER see her brother again? Did you ever ask Rygel how he deals with the nightmares of his tortures each and every night? Do you know how I feel every time I look at you and have to remember I allowed Scorpius to kill you? Do you know how it feels to be the only one of my kind in this sick, twisted part of space? To know I may never see my loved ones again? Do you?" Each and every sentence seemed to hit Aeryn with the force of a physical blow. Her winces more pronounced as John increased the rythm and volume of his speech.

"Did you ever consider what it might feel like being on the sights of every single psycho bastard and having to endure what they put me through on a regular basis? Can you even imagine what it felt like for me to be left behind by you? Of course not. How could you. After all, you're the expert on maximum pain and suffering. Aren't you?" Barely able to contain his rage, John turned away from the now pale and trembling Aeryn and activated his comms. "Hey D! Come and help get to my quarters, will ya? I need a change of scenery." Not looking back, John edged out of the laboratory trying to put as much distance between the woman he loved and himself.

***

TBC

Hello again, fellow scapers. I am returned!!

Yeah, the main man is back. Another "hooman" lose on the Uncharteds. These last few months have been quite extrenuous for me proffessionaly speaking. That, coupled with me succumbing to the allure of WWII action games... well, you can imagine the rest.
Now, though, I have found once again the muse beside me. And poor Moya (that's my 'puter) is feeling under the weather 'cause I let some bad drivers get into her along with some nasty virus I had to search all over to eradicate. So now I can't play, I can't watch any movies on CD and everything has to be on divx or some other format. The writing itch is all over me.

I know I've let my babies down. Haven't paid any attention to them in a while although I've kept an eye on other people's fics. So now I have the chance to do good by them and finnish them once and for all. Please bear with me and wish a prolific imagination on me.

Thanks,

Red.