&fic;

 

Full of Sleep

by sugargroupie

R, 3356 words

Summary: She will not hesitate this time.

Disclaimer: Not mine; O'Bannon, Henson, Kemper, et. al.

Notes: AU Futurefic, spoilers for season four. Written for the Sprog_Wars Sprogathon. Thanks to StarsGoBlue for the road test. Mistakes remain mine. This fic includes violence, dark themes and heavy angst. Caveat Lector.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

Her eyes close tightly, weapons fire exploding around her, and for a moment it's five cycles in the past. She's a peacekeeper with a purpose of her own choosing, aiming her rifle at the Prime Hokothian and she has one shot. One shot to destroy a corrupt empire and complete her mission; one chance to tip the balance.

One shot.

Aeryn takes a deep breath, coughs around a lungful of black fumes, and pushes the past to the back of her mind. There's symmetry to it, aiming the barrel of her gun at a bounty hunter while bearing the weight of her daughter against her chest. The duality of her life comes full circle and she confidently grips her weapon, fingers sliding along the grooves of use.

"Aeryn Sun, surrender now to us or watch your mate die." She doesn't doubt that the words are truth. The Vendrall operatives will kill him as swiftly as they captured him. It is Aeryn's death they will savor and prolong with questions about Intel she'd procured so long ago; with none of the mercy she'd shown Lechna.

Lechna who had let down his guard enough for her to seduce a gun to his head. She'd pulled the trigger and never looked back; hadn't even thought of his name until she'd been forced to assign paternity to her child.

John flinches as the blade of the knife digs into his neck. Aeryn steels her resolve.

She will not hesitate this time.

White teeth worry her bottom lip; settle her nerves even as tears blur her vision. She resets her aim, adds pressure to the trigger --

--And all hezmana breaks loose. Aeryn has less than a microt to react as shock grenades carve a path of destruction in familiar formation. A sound tactical maneuver to ambush her, circle around like an animal stalks its prey. The sounds of chaos threaten to pull her back into the past again, but it's her daughter's cry keeping her rooted to the present.

She drops to her knees to gather her child tightly against her body, wrapping small arms around her neck. "Eartha, hold onto me," she whispers against a petal-soft cheek. "Don't let go." She takes off at a full run, dodging debris and dead bodies. The ground shakes beneath her feet with each detonation, closing in as she searches frantically for refuge. She needs to get to John and find a way out of this mess, but none of it will matter if she cannot keep herself alive long enough to make a plan.

Aeryn pauses to catch her breath against a doorway and taps her badge. "D'Argo! D'Argo, are you there? Pilot!" The comms are frelled. Perfect.

Scanning the area quickly, Aeryn takes shelter behind an overturned barricade. The once thriving commerce bazaar now stands in ruins from bombs and pulse blasts. Yet another thing to feel guilty about.

Eartha immediately coils tighter into Aeryn's embrace. "Mama, I'm scared."

"I know, baby, I know."

"Want daddy," she whimpers.

Aeryn doesn't know how to answer that, so she leans back, takes a moment to check over her daughter and seek out any cuts or bruises. What she finds is a safe child, round face smudged with dirt and tears, and clothes that will have to be replaced. Aeryn has never lied to Eartha, and she won't start now. "I'll find him," is all she can promise, and it seems to be enough.

***

The blast is sudden as it splinters what's left of the barricade in two, knocking Aeryn and Eartha forcefully to the ground. The ache in her side catches her breath and she exhales a groan of pain, holding onto Eartha with one hand while bracing her weight with the other.

Her eyes burn with smoke and tears and as the darkness claims her she can feel the grinding of bones in her wrist.

***

The stone floor is damp against her cheek, soothing her heated skin. Aeryn blinks slowly and jerks up as consciousness returns, immediately clutching her arms to her chest. "Eartha?" she breathes quietly and winces in pain at the jarring of her wrist.

There's no sign of her daughter in the cell, or John for that matter, so it's safe to assume they've separated the three of them for the time being. The tenderness in her wrist is a dull throb, an ache she can easily disregard in favor of more pressing matters. She's functioned with worse injuries in more dire situations.

The heavy click-click of boots against the floor draws closer to her cell and Aeryn's body goes completely rigid. She's on her feet in a matter of microts, clenching her teeth at the sudden vertigo threatening to engulf her balance. She wants a gun and a clear head, but she'll settle for remaining steady on her feet long enough to find out who captured her.

"Officer Sun. I hope that our... accommodations are satisfactory." The voice is vaguely familiar, words spoken with sardonic humor that she knows but cannot identify.

The figure steps into her line of vision and everything falls into place. Aeryn takes care to suppress her reaction, but there is clear recognition in her gaze. Haaz Trevnor, Sebacean. Traitor. She thought him long dead, that he could not have survived the infiltration of his faction on Vendrall. Aeryn scans his features, taking in the burn marks on the right side of his face and neck, right eye permanently closed. Both of his hands covered in scars. He may have escaped with his life, but just barely.

"I've had worse. Trevnor, I am surprised to see you alive... more or less."

"Though not for your unit's lack of trying." He casually folds his hands behind his back.

"I could say the same of you. You have me now. Let them go." She nearly cringes even as the words leave her mouth. The request isn't likely to happen.

"And had you surrendered earlier, I would have done just that. But I think three of you are worth more than just one."

Aeryn moves to the cell door, wrapping her fingers around the bars. "There is no bounty for them. Who's going to pay for an unknown male and child just because they happen to be tied to me?" Ridiculous question; she knows the answer but Trevnor's mouth tightens in response, so she continues. "Let them go. I can help you."

In a burst of anger he bangs both hands against the cell door. "You mean the way you helped Lechna? I assure you Sun, I need no help of that kind."

Aeryn meets his cold gaze with her own. "So you hunted me for revenge, did you?"

"You murdered my comrades, stole coordinates and valuable information. Most of my unit is dead because of you!"

"And you were selling out Sebaceans, our people, to the Hokothians! You think that makes you better than me?"

"I'm standing on the outside of this cell, so I'd say yes!" Trevnor steps back, clinches his fists to regain control of his temper.

"Just please... let my daughter go, let me contact someone to come and get her."

"What is this... begging, from a Peacekeeper?" He laughs harshly, watching her for a response.

It takes every amount of control Aeryn has not to smash his face in. Instead she remains quiet, refusing to rise to the bait.

Trevnor studies her for a moment before relaxing his features. "You may want to get comfortable seeing as you'll be here for a long while."

"Frell you." Her mouth is set, unyielding control firmly in place.

Something akin to admiration graces his face before he turns on his heels and walks away.

***

A few arns later --an eternity -- Trevnor returns, overconfidence in his stature that turns into irritation as Aeryn pointedly ignores him. "Sun! You will want to hear what I have to say."

Aeryn slowly pivots in his direction, tries to keep the nausea at bay with Trevnor's next words. "Your offspring... she is not fully Sebacean."

Frell. Fuck.

John.

Trevnor's voice echoes in the background as Aeryn struggles to force oxygen into her lungs. This is her fault. Joining the renegade Peacekeepers, coming down to this planet, getting them all captured. All of it. So focused is she on the self-recriminations that it takes a microt to realize Trevnor is still talking. "... and I am sure she will make a fascinating study for the med techs."

"You frelling bastard!" she snarls and reaches for his neck with her uninjured hand. "I will kill you, if you harm. my. child."

Scarcely avoiding the grip of her hand, a cruel smile lifts his mouth. "There seems to be a misunderstanding here, Sun. You are in no position to make threats." He takes a hesitant step back. "It will be interesting to discover if she is immune to heat delirium."

The threat is a punch in the gut and Aeryn briefly wonders if she's going to hyperventilate any microt.

"Wait!" Aeryn calls to his retreating back, not caring at the desperation in her voice. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to choose who dies, your mate or your child..."

Never.

Aeryn refuses to give him the satisfaction of making a choice. She is as good as dead, but she will not place a price on either John or Eartha. She will not become her mother.

"Silent now? Even after I tell you how much currency I stand to make at the capture of John Crichton?"

Trevnor smiles triumphantly at the audible hitch in her breath.

"He is not Sebacean, but he bleeds just the same," he taunts her. "Tell me Sun, how you can stand there in all your self-righteous glory and judge me, when you contaminate yourself with an inferior species and a half-breed abomination?

"Imagine my surprise to discover your ties to the human with the power to create wormholes," Trevnor continues.

"He no longer has the wormhole technology." It's one lie among many and the desperation is still there. But she will do anything to save her husband and daughter.

"The Scarrans seem to think so, and they are paying generously to anyone who will bring them closer to finding out."

Blood from a bite mark inside her jaw fills her mouth and the minute pain gives Aeryn something else to think about besides how frelled everything has become. She will not acknowledge Trevnor's request-- that much she is sure of. But standing by doing nothing while they subject her daughter to examinations and tests, and waiting for the Scarrans to come and drag John away doesn't sit well either.

And she's just reckless enough to make a plan even John would think twice about.

Aeryn can feel Trevnor's gaze boring into her like he can read her mind. He seemed so sure that she would acquiesce to his demands that she takes pleasure in his short-sightedness.

"Very well, Sun. They will both die. Painfully."

When he leaves she presses her forehead against the wall and takes a deep breath. It is a gamble, denying Trevnor with Eartha and John's lives in the balance. He could just as easily order the techs to end her child's life, but she's counting on Trevnor? curiosity to keep Eartha alive long enough for Aeryn to escape. However, it needs to be soon. Her time will run out as soon as they determine just how much Eartha's biology differs from a Sebacean.

***

When the guard comes, she's ready for him.

Aeryn doesn't pause to wonder why Trevnor is not there to escort her to her death, but she will take advantage of his absence.

She considers dragging the officer through the corridor, and forcing him to direct her to the med bay. Instead she fakes being ill and drops him with a pantak jab when he comes within reach, strips him down to his undergarments and appropriates his uniform and weapons. At most he'll be embarrassed when he wakes up, but at least he'll be alive.

She is not feeling nearly as generous with Haaz Trevnor's life.

***

Eartha leads Aeryn right to her, screaming at the top of her lungs like she hadn't done since she'd been an infant.

Aeryn runs toward the stream of voices, picking up speed as Eartha's call for "Mommy" is cut abruptly short. She halts a few metras away, one wall separating the pacing guard outside the med bay from her location. She listens closely at the back and forth communication on the comms.

::The Scarrans will enter the planet's system within an arn. You need to be in position when that happens::

"Yes sir," the guard replies, and falls to the floor with a vicious hit to the back of the head.

Two down, a dozen more to go.

Readjusting her tenuous hold on the gun with both hands, Aeryn burst into the room and immediately set her sights on her four-year old, restrained to the examination table with leather straps. Her small mouth is open but no sound ventures forth, face wet with tears. A tech stands over the girl, probing tools in each hand and Aeryn wastes no time aiming her pistol. "Move one step closer and I will put a pulse blast through your skull."

The tech freezes in place and turns around at Aeryn's warning, eyes fixating on the weapon. Aeryn comes closer to the table as the tech backs away and then she devotes her attention to Eartha and the needle marks decorating her left arm, even as she directs a question to the tech. "What the frell did you do to her?"

"I-I administered a sedative and nerve anesthetic."

"What can you give her to counter the affects?" Her eyes narrow when the tech reaches for a blue vial. "Do not lie to me," she says fiercely, brushing the muzzle of the gun against the tech's head. Shaking hands reach for the green vial instead.

"It should only take a few microts," the tech advises and stands idly by while Aeryn releases the straps holding Eartha down.

The little girl's voice first comes out as a whisper and moderately increases in volume. "Mommy? Mommy!" Eartha is hysterical and for that alone Aeryn wants to shoot the tech. "Shh, I'm here," she sooths into Eartha's dark hair and reassuring her with touch and kisses to her cheeks and nose. "Mama's here."

Aeryn switches the pistol to her left hand and aims it once again at the tech. "I want you to inject yourself with the blue vial." Her voice scratches with tension and impatience, staring distantly as the tech collapses to the floor. She's running out of time.

"Let's go get your father."

***

Aeryn's plan is simple: rescue John, kill Trevnor and leave quickly. And as tempting as it is to go after Trevnor first, to make sure he's dead when she leaves this soil, she knows that getting John away from the Scarrans is more important than her thirst for revenge.

Trevnor made it personal, and if it were just her she wouldn't hesitate. But that would be easy, and her life ceased being easy the moment she was declared 'irreversibly contaminated'.

So she settles for keeping an eye out for roaming guards in her search for John. She comes up to a wide door with two officers standing guard on either side. Aeryn's lips quirk into a half smile and she backtracks, setting her pistol to chamber overload and waits for the explosion. One by one the guards come to check the disturbance. The first one, she breaks his neck. The second gets his throat cut.

Aeryn procures what she hopes is the sensor key to unlocking John's holding cell and successfully enters the room. The stench of blood and sweat and stale air has her breathing through her mouth and she blinks to adjust her sight to the darkness; stops abruptly.

"John," she keens into a balled fist, grateful that she had the foresight to hide Eartha before searching for her husband.

They've been torturing him for arns. It's the only conclusion Aeryn comes to after seeing John lying in a pool of his own blood, no outward signs of proof that he is still alive. She wipes the blood from his eyes and mouth with her thumbs and simply looks at him. His skin is hot to the touch and she takes comfort in that, along with the faint pulse in his neck. More than ever they need to get off this rock.

"John?" she says softly. "Can you hear me? I'm here, I'm not leaving you... but you have to fight. Don't you dare die on me."

With an affectionate tug at his dirt-matted hair, she drapes his arm around her shoulder and pulls him from the floor, outside heavy footfalls propelling her into movement.

She once promised John that she would never leave him, and she means to honor her word. Dead or alive, John Crichton is coming with her and his daughter.

***

Weapons fire rids Aeryn of the thought that their escape seems all too easy. Eartha is leaning against her legs, blue eyes on her unconscious father as Aeryn takes a moment to catch her bearings. There aren't many options left short of shooting her way out and only then as a last resort. It will probably get them all killed.

If she can just get them over the embankment they may have a better chance at contacting Moya and the others. Aeryn chuckles derisively to herself. Now she's basing her plans on hope.

Any microt now they could be surrounded by Trevnor's people, so she forces herself up with John and moves as quickly as she can with his dead weight. Aeryn checks to her side periodically to make sure Eartha is there, and hopes her daughter can make the distance. She's not sure if she can carry both of them.

"Eartha!" she yells sharply and the girl rushes to a stop beside her mother's legs. Aeryn reaches for her gun, training it on the blurred figure coming into her line of vision. If this is an ambush she wants no part of it. If she cannot get them all out alive, she will put a pulse blast through each of their heads consecutively. Her family will not live under anyone's control.

As the figure comes closer, she recognizes the familiar shape but her aim remains steady. "D'Argo..." She wants to question the how's and why's of his sudden appearance, but she can't stave off the rush of tears and relief; the paranoia, that overwhelms her. She tightens her grip on the pistol. "The Scarrans?hey will be here soon and?

"And we will be long gone before they enter the atmosphere, but I need you to lower your weapon and allow me to carry John." His gaze never falters, meets her own and he hopes she can recognize a friend through her fear-tinted eyes. "Aeryn..."

Her hand shakes as she lowers the weapon finally, nearly collapsing under the burden of John's body. But D'Argo is there, swinging her husband over his broad shoulder, Qualta-blade at the ready and all she can do is nod her appreciation and gather Eartha in her arms.

It's time to go home.

***

She stands transfixed by the deep bruises decorating his skin, her hands smearing droplets of water in a familiar caress.

Aeryn has done this before.

More than once, actually, and John had been an all too eager and willing participant. She remembered running the sponge over his body, him leaning his head back to offer his lips and an easy smile as she massaged the ache from sore muscles. It was a ritual to seek out old scars and familiarize themselves with new ones.

But there are new scars now, some with their own stories that she may never know.

This time there are no playful kisses; no warm malleable skin. Just an inert body she painstakingly bathes because she can do nothing else.

*

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