The Living Years
By Kelly Hill

SUMMARY:Four generations of fathers and sons. 

SPOILERS:General, Season 1 & 2 through the 'Look at the Princess' trilogy 


Feedback: Please! ceallaig@rcn.com and/or wait@kca.net 

Disclaimer #1: The characters and situations of the TV program "Farscape"
belong to the Jim Henson Company, Rockne S. O'Bannon, the Sci-Fi Channel,
Hallmark Entertainment, Nine Network Australia, and the actors who bring the
characters to life. They have been borrowed with love, but not permission. No
copyright infringement is intended. We do, however, own the characters we made
up ourselves. ;) 
#2: The song belongs to Mike + the Mechanics, although we chopped it into bits
and rearranged it. But that's the way it worked, so hey.... The lyrics appear,
intact and in order, at the end of the fic. No copyright infringement is
intended. 
#3: "The Spoon that Saved Ermor" was created by Milton Peralta-Hidalgo, age 12.
The original story can be found at
http://www.cedar-falls.k12.ia.us/District/esl/Legends/spoon.htm 

Authors' notes: This story was the result of serendipitous coincidence. Kelly
happened to mention to Sarah in chat one night that she had an idea for a story
based on the song "The Living Years" by Mike and the Mechanics. "You're
kidding?!?!? I've had one sitting here since *November*, based on the same
song!" We passed each other our pieces, spent lots of time in instant message,
chats and numerous emails hashing things out, and found out more about NASA and
fly fishing than we ever wanted to know. The final result is in your hands. 

Kelly's note: I'm not sure just what this story started out to be, but it seems
to have turned into a multigenerational love story, love in all its myriad
forms. I tried as far as possible to stick with historical facts regarding the
space program. But when historical accuracy butted heads with FS canon, I used
literary license (read: I cheated...). Thanks to the Napster folks for letting
me download some great tunes, including the title piece, to work by, and if you
tell me where to send the check I'll cheerfully pay for them... Thanks also to
Solanio for his help with the fishing scene - any errors are my fault, not his. 

Sarah's note: I heard the song one day on my way home from work, and my Muse
came a-whackin'. She promptly got bored, as usual. Thank goodness for that
fateful pm from Kelly, or this thing would probably still be sitting around
waiting for a final polish. We *almost* gave in and stuck an AU on this sucker
when LATP aired, but we forged ahead with re-writes. I'm glad we did... Huge
thanks to Adele for her input once again. (And yes, as a matter of fact, that
*is* a gratuitous Rams reference. ) 

Thought-italics are in *'s, other italics are in /'s. 
Hope you enjoy! 

***** 
You just can't get agreement 
In this present tense 
We all talk a different language 
Talking in defense 
***** 

Houston, November 1965 

"Hidebound, pigheaded, rock stubborn son of a bitch!" 

Nora Crichton hid her amusement at her husband's uncharacteristic language. "I
take it your talk with your father didn't go over real well." 

"My God, it's like talking to a brick wall sometimes." Jack collapsed into a
corner of the sofa, and Nora sat next to him, pulling his arm around her
shoulders. 

"Well, you didn't really think he'd take the news well, did you? He's been
against you being an astronaut from day one, and now you're telling him you've
been assigned to your first mission? It means he's lost the argument. And you
know how he hates to lose - almost as much as you do." Nora smiled, then her
face went serious. "And you know he worries about you - you're his only child,
and you're all he's got since Lily passed on." 

"But we're going to space, Nora! People have been dreaming of it for years,
writing about it - and now it's really happening. In a few years someone is
going to the moon, then after that, who knows how far we can go? It's worth a
few risks. Mama understood that, why can't he?" 

"Lily understood because as far as she was concerned you could do no wrong." 

"And as far as Pop is concerned, I can't do anything right. Great." He stopped
for a moment, then smiled ruefully. "And listen to me. I sound like a ten year
old kid." 

"To Robert part of you always will be the boy he raised. And you know he looks
at you sometimes and wonders just where you took that left turn. Parents have
plans for their children, and sometimes the children have different ideas. You
should have seen my mother's face when I told her I was majoring in biology in
college - you'd have thought I said I was running away with the circus! I love
your father, Jack, he's a good man, and we both know he cares a lot about you.
But where you see dreams, he sees danger. It's just the way he is. So he's
going to keep on fighting with you over this." 

Nora laughed and continued, a twinkle in her golden brown eyes, eyes that
reminded her husband of wildflowers. "And anyway, I don't know why this
surprises you - stubbornness is as much a part of the Crichton genetic code as
blue eyes and brown hair. At least when our son starts digging his heels in
over his bedtime, I'll know where it comes from." 

"Oh, like there's none of that on the MacDougall side of the family," Jack said
derisively. "I seem to recall a certain woman telling me...." The full import
of what she had just said hit home, and he stopped dead, drawing back enough to
look at her fully. "Wait a minute...'our son'? Did you just say 'our son'?" 

"Yes, I did," Nora said, smiling. 

"You're sure?" 

"Doctor Hastings confirmed it this morning. I've been pretty sure for about two
weeks now." 

"How do you know it's going to be a son? 

"Well, I don't, not for sure, but I have a feeling, and you know my feelings
are pretty accurate. Congratulations, sweetheart, you're going to be a father
in June." 

"June?" 

"June 12, to be exact." 

"Damn, that's gonna be pushing it," Jack said, shaking his head. "Unless I
totally screw the pooch as backup on Gemini 6, I'll be due for main crew on #
9. That's scheduled to go up right about when you're due. Maybe I should talk
to the bosses, see about getting another assignment..." 

"You'll do no such thing! Deke might be okay with the idea and bump you back to
later on, but you know what a hardnose Al can be. You go against him, he might
just fix it so you never go up. He's just snake mean enough to do it." 

Jack chuckled - Deke Slayton was the man who handed out the assignments, but
Alan Shepard was the front line interface with the astronauts. And the 'icy
commander' could be a very formidable opponent - if he didn't like you, God
help you trying to get into orbit. "That's probably true. But I don't like the
idea of you being here alone so close to term." 

"Well, your Aunt Evie has been giving really broad hints that she'd like us to
come visit this summer. How about if I take her up on that? We can hash it out
when she comes at Christmas. It'll give her a chance to fuss - you know how she
loves that - and Robert will get first crack at his first grandchild." 

"Get 'em young and train 'em right, huh?" 

"Something like that. And you should still be there in time for his arrival.
How does that sound to you?" 

"I think it's brilliant, and I think you are a genius, but then I've always
thought so." 

"Thank you, sir. You know, you haven't said yet if you're happy about this." 

Jack gathered his wife into his arms, kissing her deeply and tenderly. "Does
that answer your question?" She nodded. "And what would make you think I
wouldn't be?" 

"Well, it's not like you need anything extra to worry about right now." 

"I think I'll survive it...oh, lord..." Jack groaned and closed his eyes. 

"What?" 

"As if Pop didn't have enough fuel for the fire, can you imagine what he's
going to say when he hears this? 'And now you've got a family on the way,
you're going up in that tin can, just what the hell's going on in what passes
for your brain, son?'" he mimicked a perfect imitation of his father's drawl,
making Nora giggle. 

"I'm just glad he can't hear you right now - he'd probably break out that
12-gauge of his and come after you." 

"Probably." Jack smiled, then the grin faded as he asked quietly, "Are you
really sure you're okay with all this, Nora? Especially now?" 

Nora thought for a moment, then answered, "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't
scared, Jack. I know the things that can happen out there. Things could happen
before you even get off the launch pad. It's like Al Shepard said, you're
sitting on top of a whole bunch of moving parts built by the lowest bidder. I
knew and accepted that when I married you. I also know this has been your dream
since you were a boy. I could no more keep you on the ground with all that
going on here and at the Cape than I could stop breathing. It's exciting stuff,
and I'd never ask you to give it up. Just don't think for a minute it's easy
for me." 

"I know it isn't, and I still don't know how I got so lucky." 

"You got lucky, Jack Crichton, because I can't resist a pair of beautiful blue
eyes, and because you wouldn't take no for an answer. Like I said before,
stubborn is in the Crichton genes." "Well, between your genes and mine, our son
is going to be a handful." 

"More than likely. But I want him to be proud of his father, and he can't do
that if his father isn't proud of himself. And part of that pride is going to
come from doing what's in your heart. So, yes, I'm really okay with it." 

"Thank you." 

Nora smiled mischievously. "You know, if you really want to thank me, there are
better ways to do it." 

"Oh, really? It's still okay, in your 'delicate condition' and all?" 

"According to the doctor, we're good to go for a while yet - I asked." 

"Well, in that case..." Jack swept his laughing wife into his arms and carried
her off to their bedroom. Setting her down gently on the bed, he knelt in front
of her, tracing his fingertips lightly over her face. "My lady with the
wildflower eyes, you are a most remarkable woman. What did I do to deserve
you?" 

Nora smiled softly. "The same thing I did to deserve you - you loved me. That
was all it took." Jack leaned in, nuzzling her neck, and she sighed, "Make love
to me, Jack. Make our baby strong..." 

Hands were busy for a few moments, clothing disappeared, and the outside world
went away as they made slow sweet love far into the night in celebration of the
new life they had created. 

"I hope," murmured Nora, just at the point of falling asleep in Jack's arms,
"that our son grows up as gentle and loving as his father." 

Jack smiled and held his wife close, resting his cheek against the burnished
copper of her hair. "And I hope he grows up as brave and generous as his
mother. Sleep sweet and dream happy, angel." 

***** 
I know that I'm a hostage 
To all his hopes and fears 
***** 

Houston, May l966 

"I don't like this. Why wouldn't you let me ask Ed to take you? It would have
been faster... 

"Because Aunt Evie hates planes, and this train is going to be a lot more
comfortable than that puddle-jumper of Ed's." "But..." 

"Jack, for the last time, I will be fine! My lord, between the two of you,
you're going to smother me! The way you carry on, you'd think I was giving
birth to a crown prince or something!" 

"As far as I'm concerned, you are. Don't expect me not to worry, Nora." 

"Jack, I've still got three weeks. We're going to be in Charlotte by tomorrow
night, and I've heard tell they've got hospitals and doctors there these days,
just like they do here in Houston." This pulled a laugh from Jack in spite of
himself, and Nora smiled. "That's better. Now, I want you to promise me
something." 

"Anything." 

"Promise me that you'll concentrate on your mission, do the job they pay you
for the way I know you can do it." 

"I promise." 

"And stop fretting." 

"That I can't promise." 

Nora rolled her eyes. "I give up! Aunt Evie, you talk to him," she pleaded with
the tall, slender woman who had just entered the compartment. "Make him see
sense." 

"Sense?" Evelyn Crichton laughed. "This boy doesn't know the meaning of the
word, never has. That's what makes him such a good astronaut. Personally, I
think they're all a little 'teched'." 

"Aunt Evie, you're starting to sound like Pop." 

"No, what your daddy would say I couldn't repeat in polite company. But Nora's
right - there's no cause to worry. We're going to take very good care of her."
She smiled and squeezed Nora's hand. "And spoil her silly." 

"Like I said - smothered," Nora muttered, shaking her head. 

Jack and Evie laughed, and any further comments were cut off by the train's
warning whistle. Jack sighed. "I have to go, and I hate to. I'll call you
tomorrow night, and I'll be there in a few days." 

"You'd better be." 

Jack kissed his wife gently, looking down into her eyes. "I love you, angel.
Have a safe trip." 

"Think that's supposed to be my line. I love you, too." Nora's eyes were
shining as she reluctantly let go of her husband's hands. "Now, get out of here
and go to work." 

Jack gave his aunt a hug. "Aunt Evie..." he began, and found he couldn't speak
- his throat had suddenly tightened, and his vision was starting to blur. 

"It's all right, Jack - your daddy and I will look after her. Now you'd best
get a move on, or you'll end up going with us after all." 

With one last backward glance at his wife, Jack left the compartment and walked
out to the platform. He watched as the train pulled out, straining for the last
sight of Nora. He felt a prayer forming in his heart and sent it silently out
to the stars, to whoever might be listening: *Please, protect my wife and
child, keep them safe for me until I can do it.* He smiled softly - it was
little enough to do but this time it would have to be enough. 

~~~~~ 

Charlotte, five days later 

"How are you doing, Nora?" 

"I think the next person that asks me that is going to get a pitcher of
lemonade chucked at them." The annoyance in Nora's voice was softened by the
twinkle in her eyes, and her father-in-law smiled. The blue gaze under salt and
pepper brows held a suspicious sheen for a moment, and Nora asked gently, "What
is it, Robert?' She held out her hand and beckoned him to sit beside her on the
sofa. 

"If you knew how much you sound like Lily did when she was carrying Jack. She
hated being fussed over almost as much as you do." 

"Did it stop you from fussing?" 

"Hell, no," he drawled, and Nora laughed. 

"I was right - stubborn definitely runs in the Crichton genes." She took one of
his big hands in both of hers. Robert's hands were hard, work roughened, but
she had seen them touch his wife's face just as delicately as Jack's touched
hers. *Like father, like son.* "You still miss her a lot, don't you?" 

"It's been two years, and there isn't a morning I don't wake up thinking she
should be there next to me - and die a little bit when I remember why she
isn't. " 

"Well, she was for over thirty years, Robert. I envy you and Lily that, but I
don't envy you the loneliness. It's something I hope and pray I never have to
face." 

"And it's something you live with every day, thanks to what that boy of mine
decided to do for a living." Robert's face softened for a moment. "Maybe his
wanting to be a pilot was my fault - he heard the stories I swapped with the
guys from the war. But for me, it was a job - it was something I was good at,
and at the time it was the right thing for me to do. Then the war ended, I was
lucky enough to come home in one piece, and I said never again. Jack...he's
different. There's something in him that pushes a little too hard, wants a
little too much. Jets weren't enough, he had to go for the rockets. Bad enough
he's got to put himself through it, he should know better than to do it to
you." 

"Robert, I took him for better or worse, and knew what I was getting into." 

"That still doesn't make it right. When he married you, he should have settled
down. I know he turned down that instructor's job at the test pilot school two
years ago to stay with the space program. Damn irresponsible..." 

"Did he tell you that I asked him to turn it down?" Robert stared at her. "No,
I can see he didn't. He wouldn't have. Jack would ground himself in a heartbeat
if I wanted him to. He'd have taken that instructor's job, or he'd have dusted
off that engineering degree and worked on building the rockets instead of
flying them. He would have been home safe every night...and he would have faded
just a little more every day. There would have always been the 'what if'
between us, and I think it would have driven us apart." 

Nora squeezed his hand gently in hers. "No, Robert, I'll take him the way he
is, for as long as I can have him. And if I lose him early, at least I'll lose
him to something he loves almost as much as he loves me." 

Robert shook his head, smiling. "You're as hard headed as he is, you know
that?" 

"So I've been told." 

Aunt Evie came in, a frosted glass in her hand. "Nora, how are you..." 

"Uh, Evie, unless you really want to wear that lemonade, you'd better not
finish the sentence. Don't think she's in the mood right now." 

Nora started to laugh and ended up gasping, her eyes widening in sudden alarm.
"Robert, something's wrong - I think the baby's coming..." 

"But he can't be!" Evie protested. "You're not due for another ten days yet!" 

"I don't think he's got a calendar in there...ahhhh!" Nora nearly doubled over
as a contraction wracked her. What was happening? 

Robert's arms went around his daughter-in-law, and his deep gentle voice cut
through the haze of pain and fear. "It'll be all right, hon. Evie, get her
things together, then call the doctor and ask him to meet us at the hospital.
And see if you can find that number to get hold of Jack..." 

"No!" Nora's face was pale, but her eyes were bright and fierce. "He goes up in
a few hours - he is NOT going to be told!" 

"Nora..." 

"I said no! Promise me, Robert - you too, Evie. I am not stepping one foot out
of this house until both of you promise. He's not to be told until he comes
back down. I'll have the baby right here if I have to, don't think I won't." 

Blue eyes locked with golden-brown ones, and Robert blinked first. "All right,
Nora, you win - not till he comes down," he said, and Evie nodded her
agreement. "Evie, go ahead and call the doctor." 

Nora sagged against Robert - she knew he'd never deliberately break his word
once he gave it. "Thank you," she whispered, closing her eyes. 

"Don't thank me - it's probably the stupidest damn thing I've ever done." 

Evie came out of the spare bedroom a few minutes later with a small suitcase,
and Robert said softly, "All right, Nora, let's get you to the hospital. Think
you can walk?" 

"I think so." Nora felt shaky, but the pain had subsided. She got to her feet
slowly, grateful for Robert's strong arm around her. She patted her swollen
belly gently. "Hey, young man, you know your father may not forgive you for
this." The smile she gave Robert and Evie was weak, but her eyes were glowing.
"Let's light this candle." 

~~~~~ 

Cape Kennedy, three days later 

"Jack, better get a move on, we're due in debriefing like five minutes ago, and
the brass don't like to be kept waiting, trust me." 

"Stall 'em for me for a couple minutes, please? I've got to call my wife." 

"I'll do my best, but if you get grounded, don't bitch to me about it. First
time fathers, what a pain in the ass..." Jack's partner, himself a proud parent
of three, laughed and headed off toward the debriefing. 

Jack found the nearest phone, dialed an outside line, and tried his father's
number. With each unanswered ring, the knot in his stomach grew tighter and
tighter. After a dozen rings, he gave up and tried his aunt's house. No answer
there either. Now the 'rattlers' were in full cry - where was everyone? He
cradled the phone and noticed his palms were sweating. Seventy two hours in
space, and not one moment of jitters - now he was quickly becoming a nervous
wreck. 

*C'mon, Jack, get a grip.* He took a deep breath and firmly shoved any negative
thoughts away - they had probably just all gone out for a while, and he just
happened to have called at the wrong time. Nothing more than that. 

He hoped... 

"Captain Crichton!" a voice called him as he was headed out the door a few
hours later. He turned to see a young ensign running up to him. "Glad I caught
you, sir. This came while you were in debriefing." He handed Jack a message
slip. "And if I might offer my congratulations, sir?" 

Jack looked at him questioningly and read the message: /Your son was born June
3 - Nora and baby are fine now. Come home. Pop./ 

Jack stood stock still for a moment, then lifted a pen from the startled
ensign's pocket and scribbled on the back of the message. "Ensign, I need you
to do me a favor. Take this to Deke Slayton - I don't care where he is - and
tell him if he needs to talk to me, call me at this number in Charlotte." The
ensign hesitated for a moment, and Jack barked, "Move it, sailor!" 

"Sir, yes, sir!" The young man saluted and scurried off. Jack could feel a huge
grin splitting his face, but the knot in his stomach was still there. He had a
son, but he knew there was something they weren't telling him. Time enough to
find out later - priority right now was to get there. Jack bolted out the door
into the warm Florida evening. 

~~~~~ 

Charlotte, a few hours later 

Jack had called from the airport and finally gotten hold of Aunt Evie, who told
him Robert was still at the hospital. The older man hadn't left for more than
an hour at a time since his daughter-in-law had gone in, she said. "I can't
make him come home - I've gotten him to leave long enough to eat and walk
around a bit, but that's all. And he'll only do that if I bully him into it." 

"Rock stubborn," Jack sighed. If there was one person who could make Robert do
something he didn't want to, now that his wife was gone, it was his sister
Evie. She had inherited her full share of the Crichton strength, and didn't
hesitate to use it when necessary. "I just got in, and I'm on my way there now.
What happened, Aunt Evie? The note just said, 'Nora and baby are fine now'."
There was a hesitation at the other end, and Jack prompted, "Aunt Evie?" 

"You'd better ask your daddy when you get there, Jack. It's a long story. But
really, everything is all right now. Just go see Nora and your son." 

Robert was dozing in a chair next to Nora's bed when Jack peeked around the
door. He roused instantly, but Nora didn't move. Her pale skin looked almost
translucent, and Jack's heart leaped to his throat. He beckoned his father
outside and closed the door silently. 

"How is she, Pop?" 

"Better - they're keeping her a couple days extra just to make sure
everything's all right." 

"What happened?" 

"Your boy takes after his father - he's gotta push a little too hard. He came
sooner than he should have, and...there were some problems." 

Jack went cold. "Tell me." 

"She started bleeding, Jack. They almost lost her. The doctor got it stopped,
but...she's probably not going to be able to have any more kids." 

It took a moment for Jack to digest this. *Almost lost her...* "They're sure
she's all right? And the baby is all right, too?" 

"Right as rain. They're both strong, Jack, and they wanted to live." 

Jack closed his eyes. "Thank God." 

"Nora was upset when the doctor told her. She feels like she's let you down." 

"But it doesn't matter! I have her, I have our son, what difference does it
make if we can have more or not?" 

"Don't tell me, you need to tell her." 

"I will. How are you doing, Pop? You look like hell." 

"Been better, " Robert admitted. "And when was the last time you looked in the
mirror?" 

"I've been afraid to. How long has Nora been sleeping?" 

"Hour or so. She slips off for a while, wakes up, we talk, she goes back to
sleep again. Been that way for two days. It took a lot out of her." 

"Aunt Evie said you've been here the whole time. Thank you." 

"Somebody had to be here." Robert's tone was matter-of-fact, but there was no
mistaking the accusing glint in his eyes. 

"Pop, I'm not going to argue this with you, not right now." 

"I'm not gonna argue, either. I just want to know one thing. Nora said that
you'd get out of the space program if she asked you to. Just why in hell should
she have to ask you? What is there about those rockets that's more important to
you than she is?" 

"Nothing in the world is more important to me than Nora..." 

"Well, damn, boy, you couldn't prove it by me! She was here, about to have your
baby, and where were you? Out in space!" 

"Pop, I can't see the future, I had no way of knowing the baby was going to
come early. There should have been plenty of time..." 

"That's not the point - the point is, you should have been here in the first
place. A man's place is with his family or he's got no business having one. She
is the best thing to ever happen to you, Jack, and she puts up with more from
you than any woman should have to. And God help her, somehow you've got her
brainwashed into believing your bullshit! This isn't the first time you've left
her alone, and I'm betting it won't be the last either." 

There was a cold hard silence for several moments, then Jack asked, "Are you
about finished?" 

"Yeah, I think I've pretty much said my piece." 

"Good, because now you get to listen to me for a minute. You're right - Nora is
the best thing that ever happened to me, and I thank God every single day for
bringing her into my life. She's always believed in me, even when I had trouble
believing in myself. And you're right, I wasn't here for her when I should have
been, and that's something I'll regret for the rest of my life." 

Jack's voice went very quiet, and there was steel in the blue gaze. "But that
doesn't mean you're right about any of the rest of it. I couldn't 'brainwash'
her into anything if I wanted to - she's the strongest person I've ever known.
And I need that strength, Pop - without her, I'd have given up a long time ago.
She's everything I've ever wanted, and never thought I'd get lucky enough to
find. And the amazing thing is, she loves me as much as I love her. Damn if I
know why, but I'm not about to question it. I just hope I can be half the
husband she deserves, and a decent father to our son - the kind of father who
believes in his son's dreams." 

Jack saw his father flinch, and his anger vanished instantly. "God, Pop, I'm
sorry. Look, I don't want to fight with you anymore. You've been riding the
edge for three days - you're dead tired and you've been scared as hell. I'm
grateful to you for being here, and I know Nora is, too. Come back in with me,
let's see if she's awake yet. I think we all need to be together right now.
Please." 

He held out his hand, and after a moment Robert accepted it, and smiled
slightly as Jack's other arm circled his shoulders. "Bullhead," Robert said. 

"Takes one to know one." Jack steered him gently through the door. 

Nora's eyes were open as they entered, and lit up at the sight of her husband.
"Jack!" 

Jack leaned over and kissed his wife. "Hello, angel. Heard you went into
production without me." He pulled up a chair on one side of the bed, Robert on
the other, and took her hand in both of his. "How are you feeling?" 

"Tired. If I'd known having a baby was this much work..." Nora tried to smile,
but it wavered as tears filled her eyes. "Oh, Jack, I'm so sorry..." 

"What are you talking about? You went through hell to give me a miracle, and
you're apologizing to me? I don't want to hear that." His fingertips gently
brushed away her tears. "I could have lost both of you, and I didn't. I've
already been blessed more than any man has a right to expect - asking for more
would be just plain greedy. So I don't want you wasting energy on being sorry -
I want you to use it getting well." Jack felt tears forming in his eyes, and
didn't attempt to hold them back. "Our son needs you, and so do I." 

The door opened, and a smiling nurse came in, carrying a squirming bundle.
"Mrs. Crichton, it's time for your son's feeding. Did you want to do it?" 

"Would it be all right if I did it?" Jack asked, looking at Nora. "I have to
learn how sometime." 

"If you want to. Is that okay, nurse?" 

"Can't think of a reason why not. Hold him like this, Captain, support his
head..." The nurse positioned the baby in Jack's arm, and he marveled for a
moment at the feel of the tiny life, fragile and strong at the same time,
Crichton blue eyes gazing up at him. "Welcome to the world, baby boy," Jack
said softly, then laughed. "You know, I don't know what his name is yet. We
were talking about two or three." 

Nora smiled. "John Robert Crichton Senior, meet your son." 

Jack gently stroked the soft down of brown hair on his son's head. "Hello,
John. I'm sorry I missed your birthday." Jack's glance encompassed both his
wife and his father. "But as God is my witness, if it's in my power, I'll never
miss another one." 

***** 
Say it loud, say it clear, 
You can listen as well as you hear 
***** 

Annapolis, MD, June l976 

Dawn was just barely beginning to streak the horizon when a gentle hand roused
John from sleep. He blinked up at the man leaning over his bed. "Dad?" 

"Morning, son. And happy birthday - a little bit late." 

The boy gazed blearily at the clock. "What time is it?" 

"A little after four. I just got in - your mom doesn't even know I'm home yet.' 

John sat up in bed, rubbing focus into sleep-blurred eyes. He was very quiet
for a moment, then asked, "Where were you yesterday, Dad?" He was trying to
hide it, but Jack could hear the hurt in his voice. 

Jack settled onto the edge of the bed. "I got stuck in Houston for tests and
missed my flight. God save me from pill pushers and bean counters - if they had
their way, I think I'd still be there. Finally told 'em their problems weren't
mine, and I was leaving." 

"How'd you get home if you missed your flight?" 

Jack grinned. "I heisted a jet." 

John's eyes went wide. "You *stole* a jet?" 

"Well, more like I pulled rank on a captain and commandeered it. He was okay
with it when I told him why I wanted his ride - said to tell you happy
birthday." 

John smiled, then asked, "Can you get in trouble for doing that?" 

"I doubt it - these wings have to be good for something. But even if I do, it's
worth it. Like I told Captain Halloran, I made a promise to my son, and I was
going to keep it." Jack reached up and tousled John's sleep-mussed hair. 

"I'm glad you're home, Dad." 

"So am I. It looks like it's going to be a beautiful day - what would you think
about taking a ride up to Sawyer's Mill and see what's biting? Besides the
mosquitoes, that is." 

"That'd be great!" John's smile was wide and genuine this time, and Jack felt a
weight lift off his heart. 

"Okay, you get up and dressed, I'll change clothes and get the gear together.
And let's try not to wake up your mom and sisters." When Nora became pregnant
again, eighteen months after she'd been told she likely would never conceive
another child, the news had been both joyous and worrisome. Jack's stomach had
been in knots through her entire term, and he'd nearly driven her crazy with
his fussing. But after the drama of John's birth, the arrival of the twins had
been almost an anticlimax - a smooth, full term delivery of two beautiful
healthy girls who strongly resembled Nora. They were named Annie and Laurie in
honor of Nora's Scots heritage, and already gave promise at age eight of being
as formidable as their mother. And John delighted in the role of big brother. 

Jack had had years of practice at moving quietly in his bedroom, and got out of
uniform and into civvies without waking Nora. When he was finished, he stood
for a moment looking down at her. She was smiling softly in her sleep, and
stirred but did not wake at the feather light touch of his fingers on her hair.
"Sleep sweet and dream happy, angel. I'll see you later," he whispered. 

John had been busy - a cooler waited by the kitchen door, loaded with several
sandwiches and cans of soda. "We're going to have to stop someplace for ice,
Dad. And I hope bologna is okay - it was all I could find." 

"Hey, you know me - if it can't get away from me and you put mustard on it,
I'll eat it." 

"Shoot, I knew I forgot to put something on 'em," John said, frowning, then
grinned at the look on his father's face. "Just kidding, Dad." 

Jack shook his head. "Don't do that to me. We'll hit a 7-11 before we get on
the highway. And it seems to me I remember an all night diner on the way - we
can grab some breakfast there. I'm in the mood for something good and greasy
this morning - corned beef hash and eggs, maybe. What do you think?" 

"I think Mom'd have kittens, but it sounds pretty good to me too." 

"Well, what she doesn't know won't hurt her - or us." Jack wrote out a short
note to let his wife know where they were, left it on the kitchen table, then
turned to his son. "You about ready?" John nodded. "Let's hit the road." 

After stops for ice and a very satisfying but cholesterol-laden breakfast, John
and Jack hit the highway again. Jack turned on the radio and found an oldies
channel, grinning with delight as a particular song caught his attention. "Oh,
man..." 

"What is it, Dad?" John listened for a moment to the lyrics: /"Earth angel,
earth angel, will you be mine..."/ 

"This was playing on the jukebox the first time I saw your mother - it's why I
call her 'angel'. I talked my buddy into getting her friend's attention and
spent the rest of the evening convincing her to go out with me the next night.
I think she might have given in just to shut me up." 

"Did you always know you loved her?" 

Jack nodded. "From the minute I saw her I knew she was the woman for me. Now
she was more of a hard sell - I told her I was a pilot, and I thought she was
gonna turn tail and run right there. But I wore her down after a while, and
I've tried hard not to give her cause to regret it. I've probably blown it more
than once, but she's never let on." 

"Y'know, she worries when you're gone - she doesn't say anything, but I can
tell. Sometimes I see her sitting staring out the window at the sky, like she's
looking for you." 

"What do you do when she does that?" 

"I try to make her laugh. It doesn't always work, but sometimes I can get her
to stop playing with her rings. When she's worried she plays with them a lot.
That's mostly how I can tell." 

"Yeah, she's always done that, she doesn't even know why. I know she worries,
and I know I'm gone more than I should be, and a lot more than I'd like to be." 

"So why are you?" 

Jack looked down into the frank gaze of his son. It was such a simple question,
but he knew there was no simple answer. He thought a moment - how did he say
this to make a ten year old, even a very bright one like John, understand? 

"Remember a couple years back when you thought you could fly if you jumped off
the garage?" 

John grimaced. "Like I'd forget! I had my arm in a sling for three weeks." 

"You were lucky it wasn't worse. Well, I did the same thing when I was seven. I
didn't break anything, but I did it for the same reason - I really wanted to
fly. I think I put together every model airplane kit that ever came out, and I
knew I was gonna fly them someday for real. Then I started reading the science
fiction magazines, reading about men going to other planets. There had to be a
way to do that, too, I just knew it. 

"So, when I got out of college, I joined the air force and learned to be a
pilot. I flew the planes, bigger and better than anything I ever built. Then I
met Yuri Gagarin." 

"The man who gave you the puzzle ring." 

Jack nodded. "He went up in a ship that wasn't much more than a tin can on top
of a rocket, but he went into space, the first man ever to do it. He told me
what it was like out there, and gave me the ring for luck. There were going to
be men on the moon before too much longer, and I wanted to be there. So I
worked hard and I got lucky - I got picked to go." 

Jack's smile faded. "But sometimes the things you want come with a pretty big
price tag. It's taken me away from my family, and I've missed a lot of stuff
because of it. I almost gave it all up a couple of times, but your mom wouldn't
let me. I've gotten a bunch of medals that say how brave I am, John. But if you
want to know what being a hero is really all about, watch your mother. She's
got more courage every day than I've had in my whole life. And I don't know how
she keeps on the way she does." John gave his father a 'boy, grownups can be so
dumb sometimes' look. "'Cause she loves you, Dad," he replied, like it was the
most obvious thing in the world. 

Jack shook his head. Trust John to cut to the chase. "Yes, she does, and I'll
never stop being grateful for that." 

"Hope I find somebody like that," John said quietly. 

"So do I, son." 

They rode in companionable silence, occasionally chiming in with a song on the
radio. John knew many of them as well as his father did, his childish tenor
blending with Jack's baritone. It didn't seem like any time at all before they
arrived at Sawyer's Mill. 

The day was turning into a beautiful one - the early mist had burned off, and
the water sparkled like diamonds in the warm sun. Jack and John unloaded the
gear, pulled on their waders, and got ready for some serious fishing. 

"You've been practicing - that is a beauty!" Jack admired his son's new dry
fly. "That the one your grandpa taught you to make?" 

"Yeah - I was starting to think I'd never get the hang of it." 

"Sure looks like you did. I don't think even he could tie a better one." 

John grinned and got his rod ready to cast. Fly fishing was an art form, the
object not being so much to catch the fish as to perfect the creation of the
fly and the technique of the cast. Shelves of books were devoted to the
subject, but nothing was a substitute for the experience of a seasoned
fisherman. Robert Crichton was among the best, and his son wasn't far behind. 

As both flies settled onto the water, Jack watched his son for a moment. He was
tall for his age, handsome and sturdy. The brown hair and blue eyes came from
Jack's side of the family, but the set of the jaw was pure MacDougall. The
quick intelligence that constantly surprised his teachers and the knack for
science also came from Nora - though Jack's IQ was more than respectable, it
couldn't hold a candle to his wife's. And the boy was forever pulling things
apart to see what made them tick. A scientist's mind and an engineer's vision -
it was an impressive combination. 

"John, have you thought any on what you'd like to be when you grow up?" 

John looked at his father, puzzled. "Uh, Dad, I'm only ten." 

Jack smiled. "I didn't ask if you'd picked out a college yet. I was thinking, I
told your grandpa once that I wanted to be the kind of father who believed in
his son's dreams. It might help to know what you dream about." 

"Didn't Grandpa believe in yours?" 

Jack considered a moment. "I can't say he didn't believe in them as much as he
didn't understand them." 

"Is that why you and him fight sometimes?" 

"Yeah, and I wish we didn't. It doesn't mean we don't love each other - we do,
a lot. But he thinks one way and I think another. And we're both stubborn
cusses, don't like to give an inch." 

"Mom says you're too much alike, that's why you don't get along so good." 

"She's probably right about that." 

"So what did he want you to be?" 

"I don't think I ever gave him a chance to tell me. I knew what I wanted, and
that was all that mattered. Maybe I should have listened." 

"But then you wouldn't be you." 

"In some ways, maybe that wouldn't be so bad." 

"Yeah, it would," John said. "You gotta be whoever you are. It's like you asked
me what I want to be when I grow up. Well, I don't know yet, but whatever it
is, I've gotta be that because it's what I want to be, not because it's what
anybody else wants me to be." He looked up at his father. "Does that make
sense?" 

Jack smiled. "All the sense in the world. And you hang onto that - don't let
anyone push you into anything. Not even me." 

John grinned back, and they fished in silence for quite a while. There were a
few nibbles on the lines, but the trout didn't seem overly interested. John
pulled his line in and removed his dry fly. "Mind if I try one of yours, Dad?" 

"Help yourself." Jack was a bit surprised - since he had learned to tie his
own, John hadn't requested to borrow one from his father. "Tell you what, let
me try yours - maybe they'll like it better on my line. And let's take this a
little further upstream." 

John brought the fly over, and Jack once again admired the workmanship. He had
not been exaggerating earlier - it was a beautiful fly, as precise as any he'd
ever seen. He remembered his own frustration learning to tie them, and knew how
many hours it had taken John to master the technique. "Stubborn," he chuckled
as he attached it to his line. "Your mom had it pegged." 

"What'd you say, Dad?" John had selected another fly from the tackle box and
was putting it on his line. Jack noticed it was the first one he'd used when
teaching John to fly fish. He had to clear his throat before he could speak. 

"Oh, nothing important. You ready? We can leave the stuff here, don't think
anyone's likely to come along and grab it." 

John stopped a couple hundred yards upstream. "This is it, Dad," he said with a
small smile. "I can feel 'em here." 

"Good enough for me. Let's try it." Father and son cast their lines with fluid
grace onto the sparkling water and waited for fate and piscine curiosity to
lend a hand. 

Five minutes passed, then five more. John stood stock still, a look of intense
concentration on his face - it was as if he was willing the fish to notice the
fly. It must have worked, because there was a light tug on the line, then one
that yanked John forward a step. "Holy crap, Dad, I got a whopper!" he whooped
with delight. 

"Yeah, you did! Pull him in - careful, now." John brought the fish in and they
both looked at it in awe. "That's the biggest rainbow trout I've ever seen! Ten
pounds easy. Way to go, son!" 

John watched the huge fish thrashing at the end of his line for a moment, then
looked up at his father. "Can I let him go, Dad?" 

"You caught him, John. You do whatever you want to with him." 

"Help me, so he doesn't hurt himself any more." With some effort, Jack held the
fish and John gently removed the hook. The released trout swam in circles for a
moment, as if amazed to still be alive, then disappeared into the stream as
fast as its fins would carry it. 

They watched the fish swim away, and John turned a brilliant smile on his
father. "Maybe he's got dreams, too." 

Jack put an arm around his son's shoulders, eyes glowing with pride. "Wouldn't
surprise me at all." 

They walked back to their gear, broke out the sandwiches and had lunch as their
waders dried a bit in the warm sun. The conversation was light and
inconsequential - Jack filled his son in on the problems that had kept him in
Houston the day before, and John agreed that the 'pill pushers and bean
counters' needed someone to straighten them out. John told his father about his
plans to try out for youth football in the fall. "What does your mom think
about it?" Jack asked. 

"She's not crazy about the idea, but said it was okay if I kept my grades up in
school. And if I broke something, don't come crying to her. Then she mumbled
something about 'your father's jeans'. " 

Jack started to laugh and nearly choked on his last bite of sandwich. John
pounded him on the back and the coughing fit passed. "That's right, blame it on
me, " he finally gasped, still laughing. 

"What'd she mean, Dad? What do jeans have to do with anything?" 

"Different kind of 'jeans', son, and it's a long story. She can probably
explain it better than I can. Looks like we're about finished here. You ready
to head back?" John nodded, and they gathered up the wrappings and empty cans,
dumping the melting ice from the coolers. "Not like we're going to need the ice
to keep the fish cold," Jack said. 

"Well, we could always stop by the market and pick up a fish there, try to fool
Mom." 

"I tried that once - the fish was fresh off the boat, too. It didn't work. I'm
not sure how she could tell, but she knew, and I didn't think I'd ever hear the
end of it. I never tried it again." 

"Yeah, she would know. She can always tell if I'm really sick or faking it to
get out of school, too. A couple times she's let me get away with it, but she
gets this look in her eyes..." 

"...that says 'I've got your number, buster!'" Jack finished the sentence. 

"Yep." They loaded the gear into the truck, got into the cab, and John grinned
up at his father. "Thanks for bringing me here today, Dad." 

"This was an okay way to spend your birthday?" 

"Don't think it gets a lot better than this. Only thing better might be..."
John stopped. 

"What?" 

"Maybe next year...you could start teaching me to fly. For real." 

"Well, I figure it'll take us about that long to convince your mom. One pilot
in the family is bad enough, I'm not sure she's going to cotton to having two." 

"You can talk her into it. You talked her into marrying you - what kinda
bargain was that?" 

"Oh, you are cruisin', young man..." Jack started the truck and pointed it
toward home. John closed his eyes and slide down a bit in his seat, eventually
laying his head against his father's arm. Jack drove carefully, trying hard not
to jostle his son, contentment wrapping around him like a warm blanket. John
was right - it didn't get a lot better than this. 

~~~~~ 

Nora was in the kitchen when they walked in. "Either of you gets wet stuff on
this floor, you get to mop it," she warned, but there was a twinkle in her
eyes. "All the wet stuff is in the garage. And how was your day?" Jack grinned,
kissing his wife. 

"Not bad, and maybe better than yours was. Where's dinner?" 

"Well, we caught one, a beauty - a rainbow that had to go for the state
record." 

"So where is it?" 

"We let it go," John said. 

Nora's eyebrows shot up. "I think I've heard this story before..." 

"No, honest, Mom, we did. But...he kinda had other places to be." Father and
son exchanged grins, and Nora shook her head. 

"I don't think I'm even going to ask. You two go get cleaned up, and I'll
figure out what to do about dinner." 

"How about if I cook?" Jack said. 

"And leave me with a kitchen that looks like an A-bomb test site? No thank
you." 

"I meant on the grill. I'll get washed up and make a run to the market, pick up
some hotdogs and potato salad, and we'll eat outside. It's going to be a
gorgeous evening, it'd be a shame not to spend some time in it." 

Nora smiled. "You're on." 

"John, you go ahead and clean up first. And make sure to put your clothes in
the hamper this time." 

"Okay." John left the kitchen and Nora looked up at her husband. 

"I'm glad you two had the day together. John needed it." 

"So did I." 

"Do you need a nap before supper? There's plenty of time, and you can't have
had much sleep." 

Jack chuckled. "Try none. But believe it or not, I feel terrific." 

Nora studied his face carefully. "Jack Crichton, you are positively glowing!
Why do I get the feeling there was a lot more going out there today than just
fishing?" 

"There was, and I'll tell you about it later. And there's something else I need
to talk to you about later...about John's next birthday." Jack gave her his
best innocent look, and Nora poked him in the ribs. 

"Why do I have the feeling I'm not going to like this one bit...." 

***** 
Crumpled bits of paper 
Filled with imperfect thoughts 
***** 

Charlotte, NC, Fall l980 

"I'll leave you two alone for a while. Just call if you need anything." 

"Thank you." Jack watched the bank teller leave, and slide the key into the
lock on the safe deposit box. His hand trembled slightly, and Nora squeezed his
arm reassuringly. "It's...just hard to believe I'm doing this, that he's not
here," Jack said, swallowing down a lump in his throat. 

Robert Crichton had been getting his hair cut when he was hit with the most
recent of a series of heart attacks. He'd resisted all efforts by his son to
get him to come to Florida since his first attack two years earlier - he was
not leaving his home, and that was that. Even Aunt Evie couldn't budge him. "If
I'm gonna croak, I'm damn well doing it on my own terms." So Jack and Nora
backed off as requested, and waited for the hammer to fall. And last week, it
finally had. 

Jack brought his family to Charlotte, and the children were allowed to say
goodbye to their grandfather. He summoned up enough strength to hug each of
them, and told them, "Don't give your mama any trouble, she gets enough from
your daddy." The slight smile he gave Jack took any sting out of the words.
Aunt Evie took charge of them, and Jack and Nora waited for the end. 

Robert slid in and out of consciousness, his eyes sometimes focused, sometimes
not. In the early hours of the morning, his eyes opened wide, totally lucid,
and he said one word: "Lily..." Then the monitor went flat line. 

Nora sobbed quietly as Jack gently closed his father's eyes. "Go to her, Pop -
she's been waiting a long time for you. And give her my love." 

The funeral was well attended, and a long line of people came by to offer their
condolences and share stories with his family. Jack found out things about his
father he hadn't known - like Robert had stood a round of drinks in his
favorite bar the day Jack had set foot on the moon for the first time. "Never
seen a man so proud in my life," said one of Robert's oldest friends. "I was
surprised he had any shirt buttons left." 

Jack blinked back tears at that memory, and concentrated on the contents of the
safe deposit box. Robert's birth certificate, two insurance policies that had
recently been amended to name his grandchildren as beneficiaries, a savings
account passbook. Some personal papers. Not much to show for a lifetime. 

At the bottom of the box was two folded sheets of stationery. Jack opened them
and saw the letter was addressed to him, dated a few days after Robert's first
release from the hospital. The paper was wrinkled, as if his father had started
to throw it away, then changed his mind: 

/Jack: The doctor says I probably don't have much time left, but hell, he said
that about Amos Jackson up the road, and he's still hanging on five years
later. So I don't put much stock in what that overeducated quack says. Think he
got his degree from a mail order place myself./ 

/But just in case he's right, there's some things I want to say. I'll probably
say them wrong, but here goes anyway. You've been a bullhead from day one, but
I don't guess I can fault you for what you inherited. And I've done more than
my share of pushing, too./ 

/But you never once told me to go to hell, much as I likely deserved it. You
found the life you wanted, and didn't let anybody stand in your way. You won a
good woman, and had three of the best kids a man could ask for. Guess you did
something right. And maybe I did, too./ 

/Use the money from the insurance and whatever's left in the savings to help
the kids through college or whatever they decide to do with their lives -
they're gonna make their own marks on the world one day, like their daddy did.
I'm leaving Evie the house and land - she'll be all right./ 

/I've always had trouble saying I was wrong. You probably know that better than
anybody. Well, I was wrong - about a lot of things, but mostly about you. You
did the right thing, following your heart. And I just want to say I'm proud of
you. I'll never be able to say this to your face, but I want you to know it
anyway./ 

/Take care of yourself, and take care of your family. And do better by them
than I did by you./ 

/Pop/ 

Nora's arms went around her husband, and Jack's tears fell against her copper
hair. After a few moments he raised his face and controlled himself with an
effort. "I spent my whole life fighting with that man, Nora, but I don't think
I ever once told him I loved him. And now I never can." 

"He knew, Jack. When the love is there, people always know." 

"I hope so." 

"And you know what? I think sometimes he pushed you just to get you contrary
enough to do what you wanted to in spite of him. It'd be like him." 

Jack's smile was weak but real. "It would at that." He looked at the last line
of the letter. "You did better by me than you'll ever know, Pop. Thank you."
***** 
So we open up a quarrel 
Between the present and the past 
***** 

Houston, Summer l987 

"Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen," the quiet voice said from the door, "but
Colonel Crichton, you have a call on line two. It's your son." 

Jack looked up, saw the stricken look on the young lieutenant's face, and felt
his heart catch. He glanced at the General, saw his own concern mirrored in the
older man's features, and reached for the phone. "John, it's Dad. Are you okay?
What's the matter?" 

"Dad, you need to come home, now." John's voice came over the line shaky and
edged with panic. "It's Mom - she's had an accident." 

"What kind of accident?" 

"Car crash." 

"How bad?" 

"She's in surgery, and no one's telling me anything. Please, come home." 

Jack felt the color drain from his face as he heard his son's words. "I'm
leaving right now. Have you called your sisters yet? 

"I left a message for them with Monica's mother, she's going to track them down
and have them call me here." The girls had gone to California with a school
friend for two weeks of sun and surf after a hectic first year at college. 

"Are you at the hospital?" 

"At St. Vincent's, me and DK." 

"Good, you're not alone. I'll be home as quick as I can get there, I promise.
Find out as much as you can from the doctors." 

"Okay, Dad. Hurry." 

"I will." Jack cradled the phone. "General Taylor, I've got to go. My wife..." 

The general stopped him. "Whatever you need, I'll authorize it. Do you want to
fly yourself, or do you want a pilot?" "Under the circumstances, I think
someone else had better be in the cockpit." 

Within minutes a jet was ready for takeoff, and Jack stowed his duffle inside,
trying to calm the pounding of his heart. *Please, Nora, hang on, wait for me,*
he prayed silently. 

The flight home to Florida seemed to take forever, and more than once Jack
regretted his decision to let someone else pilot the aircraft - at least it
would have given him something to keep his mind off what was going on back
home. The fact that the doctors weren't talking to John was not a good sign -
at twenty-one, he was of legal age, and the only available relative. They
should have been communicating with him...unless they felt it was just too bad
for him to deal with. 

*Stop thinking like that, Jack,* he chided himself. *It's going to be all right
- believe it. Nora's strong; if they give her half a chance she'll be fine.* 

But a quiet, dark voice in the depths of his heart was telling him differently
- he could believe what he wanted to, but it wouldn't change what was, or what
would be. The cold seeped into his body, and he repressed a shiver. Damn plane
was never going to get there.... 

John and DK were waiting for him in the visitors' lounge of the hospital, and
rose as he came over to them. "They're still not talking, Dad, she's been in
there for hours...." 

"Calm down, son, let me see what I can find out . You weren't even supposed to
be home from school till tomorrow. It's a good fifteen hours from MIT to here.
You must have broken every speed law there was." 

"Mom wired us train fare when my car broke down. I told her we'd catch a cab
from the station, but when we got home, Mrs. Tate next door told us Mom had
been on her way to the station to surprise us. You know Mom - she gets it in
her head to do something..." John's words were choked by a sob, and his eyes
glistened with unshed tears. He took a deep breath to calm himself. "So we went
in the house to wait and call the train station to leave her a message. Right
about then the phone rang - it was the police. God, Dad, why did she have to
come for us? She hates driving the highway, especially during rush hour. If
she'd been home..." 

"Like you said, she can be stubborn. Have you heard from Annie and Laurie yet?" 

"Got a call not long after I talked to you - they're on the way, their plane
should be here in about three hours." 

"All right. Let me go talk to the doctors, you boys wait here." Jack gently
pushed the younger men back into their seats and set off for some answers. 

"Think he can find out what's going on?" DK whispered, his normally unruly hair
even more disheveled from having his hands run through it uncounted times. 

"Did you see that look in his eyes?" John replied, finally gaining a measure of
control over his emotions. "God help anyone who tries to give him the runaround
right now. He'll have their liver on toast." 

"Now that was an image I could have done without," DK groaned, but the ghost of
a smile crossed his face briefly. They both watched as Jack collared a nurse at
the desk and spoke to her quietly, urgently. The nurse's eyes widened, and
immediately she picked up the phone. She spoke into it rapidly, her eyes never
leaving Jack, whose fingers kept up an impatient drumming on the desktop. 

It wasn't more than two minutes before a doctor in scrubs approached the desk.
John and DK stood and watched as the two men talked, saw Jack's shoulders
stiffen then slump. The doctor said something else, Jack shook his head, and
the doctor's hand touched his shoulder in a comforting gesture. They spoke a
moment longer, then the doctor left. Jack stood silently at the desk, one hand
gripping the edge, the other shading his eyes 

"No...." John whispered, feeling his stomach turn to ice. "Please God, no..."
He heard a sob next to him, and watched DK sink into a chair, shivering. Nora
had been as close to him as his own mother, and John's heart twisted in
sympathy. Almost without thought, his hands reached out and massaged DK's
shoulders, needing the physical contact to keep from sinking into the abyss
himself. This small act of compassion took the edge off his own pain, and he
was able to face his father calmly when Jack came back, walking with the gait
of a man twice his age. 

"She's gone," Jack said simply. "They did the best they could, but the damage
was too bad. They're...getting her ready now. We can go up and see her in a
little bit, say goodbye." 

Something snapped inside John, under the weight of his grief and guilt, and raw
fury blazed in his face. " 'Say goodbye', huh, Dad? Well, there's something you
ought to be real good at by now. How many times have you said goodbye to her?
How many times have you gone off and left her? Dozens? Hundreds? Don't think it
probably means much anymore, even if she could hear it. And she can't hear it,
Dad, not ever again. If you'd been here, you could have talked her out of
going, or you would have been driving. But you weren't here...you're never
goddamn HERE." 

"John..." Jack whispered, reaching a hand toward his son. 

"Don't!" John snarled, and the hand froze in mid move. "You touch me right now,
I swear to God I'd break your arm!" His eyes glittered dangerously, and Jack
had no doubt he would do just what he said. There was a long pause, the only
sound in the room that of John's hard, angered breathing. "I'm going up to see
her...alone." 

John strode out of the waiting room without a backward glance, went to the desk
to ask directions, and disappeared up the hall. Jack stood in frozen indecision
for a moment, then said, "Dammit, we can't let him go up there alone..." He
started toward the door, but was restrained by a light touch on his arm, and
DK's quiet voice: "Leave him be for a while, Colonel." 

The younger man was pale, and the pain was etched deep in his eyes, but there
was a calm, almost commanding air about him Jack had never seen before. "I
think he needs to be by himself. And he didn't really mean what he said.
He...just needs somebody to be mad at right now. It doesn't do any good to get
mad at God, and he can't be mad at her." 

Jack looked searchingly at his son's friend. "How did you get so smart all of a
sudden?" he finally asked after a moment. 

DK almost smiled. "I didn't - I just know how he thinks. He'll be okay after a
bit, but right now he can't be with anybody." 

"How about you? How are you doing?" Jack asked gently. 

DK took a shaky breath. "It hurts...Jesus, it hurts..." Jack drew him into a
hug, and felt the tears soak into his shirt, tears of grief and of healing.
After a moment they stopped, and DK raised his face, wiping it with a hand. 

"Better?" 

"Yeah. I think I'll be okay now, at least for a while." 

"Okay. Come with me - I've got some stuff to take care of down here, then we'll
go up and see her." 

Jack and DK spent several minutes filling out paperwork, then went upstairs. At
the desk, a nurse handed Jack an envelope with Nora's personal effects. Jack
took it with a trembling hand, suddenly aware of the finality of it all, and
spread the contents out on the desk. Such a little bit of stuff - her wallet,
her purse, some odds and ends, her wedding and engagement rings, and one more
item. His heart stilled for a moment as he pulled it from a corner of the
envelope, and his grief threatened to overwhelm him. He closed his eyes,
fighting back tears as his fingertips caressed the familiar object. He took a
deep breath, then another, and tried to release it back into the envelope, but
his fingers had a mind of their own and refused to let go. He slipped it into
his pocket, checked off the rest of the items on the release form, and handed
the form back to the nurse, sliding Nora's things back into the envelope. DK
shadowed Jack as he quietly opened the door to the room where his wife waited
for the last time. 

John stood next to the table, stroking his mother's hair gently, talking to her
so softly Jack couldn't pick up any of it. He glanced up as they entered, then
looked back down again, but in that brief moment Jack could see the anger had
dissipated. He told DK, "Go ahead, son." 

DK went up to the table, touched Nora's face tentatively, then reached under
the clean white sheet to take her hand. His mouth moved as if he wanted to say
something, but no words came out, and his throat worked convulsively. He looked
up bleakly at his friend. 

"It's okay, buddy, let it go," John said quietly, and the tears slid silently
down DK's face once again as he squeezed the lifeless hand in his. John glanced
back at his father. "Looks like she's sleeping, doesn't she, Dad?" 

"Yeah, she does." Jack approached the table quietly. His wife's hair, bright
next to the pallor of her face, was a stark contrast to the white of the sheet
that covered her. Except for a small bruise mostly obscured by her bangs, he
couldn't see a mark on her. He expected the golden brown eyes to open any
moment, for her to smile up at him, knowing it wouldn't happen ever again. He
laid the envelope on the end of the table and stood beside his son, touching
his shoulder gently. John stiffened slightly but didn't draw away. 

"We weren't here, Dad, none of us. That's what hurts...she was alone." John's
voice was thick and unsteady, and the hand stroking his mother's hair had begun
to tremble. 

"She's never been completely alone, John." His son looked up at him, puzzled,
and Jack drew the object from his pocket. "Do you recognize this?" 

"Mom's locket, the one you gave her on your wedding day." 

"Did she ever tell you why I gave it to her?" John shook his head, and Jack
handed the locket to him. "Look inside." John opened the cover and saw a lock
of dark brown hair in the recess inside. "Your mother knew that I'd have to be
away from her a lot, but she married me anyway. This cost me a pretty fair
chunk of change on what I was making at the time, but I wanted her to have it,
so there would be a piece of me with her no matter where I was, to keep her
safe." 

John looked down at the locket for a moment, then closed the lid gently and
handed it back to his father. "It wasn't enough this time, was it?" he
whispered, looking down at his mother's serene face. 

"No, son, it wasn't." 

Something in his father's voice made John look up at him, and for the first
time he truly saw the heartache and desolation. *You selfish bastard,* he
berated himself. *You know how much they loved each other. Did you really think
he wasn't hurting too?* "God, Dad, I..." He wrapped his arms around his father
and hugged him, hard, feeling the tension release. They stood silently for
several minutes, then Jack drew back, scrubbing a hand over his face. "How are
we gonna get through this, Dad?" John asked after a moment. 

"I don't know, but we will, somehow, all of us." Jack beckoned to DK, and put
an arm around each of them. "You know as well as I do that if we don't, she'll
find a way to come back and kick all our butts." 

There was dead silence for a moment, then John gave out with a sound somewhere
between a laugh and a sob, tears standing in his eyes. "Yeah, she would at
that." 

"They'll be coming for her soon. You two head downstairs, I'll be there in a
minute." The two younger men left, and Jack touched his wife's face with a
feather light motion, the way she had always liked it. "You do look like you're
asleep," he whispered. "Sleep sweet, and dream happy. Don't worry about the
kids, I'll make sure they're all right.." His voice broke. "I'm not so sure
about me, though. If you can, keep an eye out down here, okay?" He took a deep
breath to compose himself, kissed her one last time, and placed the locket
around her neck. "I'm sorry it wasn't enough this time, angel." 

Jack picked up the envelope with Nora's belongings in it and went down to the
visitors' lounge. The future beckoned, cold and gray, but his heart rose
slightly at the sight of the two boys - no, make that men - waiting there for
him. Part of Nora would always be with him, as long as their children and DK
were. "Are you two ready? Let's go pick up your sisters - we've got a lot to
do, and I'm going to need your help." 

***** 
I know that I'm a prisoner 
To all my father held so dear 
***** 

Florida, T-minus five days and counting 

The headstone was a small one, the brass plate only large enough for the name,
dates and a short quotation. Jack would have liked something more elaborate,
but knew what Nora would have said if he's spent more money on it: "Jack, we've
got three kids in college. I don't care if they all have scholarships, all the
odds and ends are still expensive. You are not going to get all extravagant on
something I won't be able to enjoy anyway." 

And as usual, she was right. So Jack had reined in his initial impulses - if it
had been in his power he'd have created a second Taj Mahal for her - and kept
it simple. He knelt next to the grave, heedless of possible grass stains, and
ran his fingers lightly over the lettering of the quotation. It was from one of
Nora's favorite poets, Robert Burns: 

/"But to see her was to love her, Love but her, and love forever."/ 

Jack smiled. His daughters had spent the years since their mother's death
trying to play matchmaker for their father: "Mom wouldn't want you to be alone,
Dad." The most recent effort was only last week - Laurie had overridden his
good natured objections and extolled the virtues of yet another candidate.
"Come on, Dad, Heather's mom is only going to be in town for a few days." 

"Thought you were trying to fix me up with someone permanent," Jack said,
trying hard not to laugh. 

"Well, it's not like Pensacola is the other end of universe - if you hit it
off, you can see each other again. You'll like her, Dad, I know you will. She's
funny and smart, and you would NOT believe how good she looks. Heather is so
jealous she could spit!" So he allowed himself to be 'fixed up' once again, and
Joan had indeed proved to be a charming dinner companion - attractive,
intelligent and warm. He privately thought that her ex-husband was a fool for
walking out on her, and told his son so the next day when John called for a
progress report. 

"So what happened?" 

"Well, I had a great time, and I know she did too. She invited me back to her
hotel..." Jack fell silent. 

"But you said no. Nice as she was, she wasn't Mom." 

"Yeah." Jack sighed. "After all this time, I can't get past that." 

"Dad, you can't expect to find what you had with Mom. It's not fair to the
ladies, and it's not fair to you either." 

"I know. But I just can't seem to make myself settle for less." 

"It's not less, it's just different. But I know what you're saying. It's hard
when you lose something good - been there, done that, wish I hadn't." 

"Well, after this last one, I figure your mother is probably itching to wring
my neck. Not to mention what Laurie'd like to do to me." 

John chuckled. "I wouldn't doubt that at all. But don't let the girls bulldoze
you, Dad. You'll know if it's right - you did the first time." 

The first year had been the hardest. Jack had kept his word to Nora, pushing
his own grief aside for the sake of their children. He was the family support
system, giving them a rock to cling to as the maelstrom of emotions crashed and
eddied around them. 

The night after the funeral, Jack went from room to room, checking on everyone.
It was late, but he knew if he went to bed there'd be no sleep anyway - the bed
was too big and empty. DK was bunked on the fold out sofa in the study - Jack
had asked his parents to let him stay a few days for John's sake. The dark
curly head was peaceful and still on the pillow. Jack smiled softly,
remembering DK's words at the funeral: "Most people are lucky if they have one
good mother. I'm not sure why God thought I needed two, but he couldn't have
done better by me than Nora Crichton, and he gave her a family that didn't mind
sharing her. Thank you all." 

Jack closed the door to the study quietly and went upstairs. Annie and Laurie
were both fast asleep - they had done their crying at home, flanking their
father and brother at the funeral with heads held high, like the soldier's
daughters they were. Of all of them, they were doing the best, he thought;
their mother would be proud. He pulled the door closed and walked to John's
room. 

The door was slightly ajar, and Jack peeked around the corner. John was on his
side, facing the wall, and at first seemed to be asleep. But as Jack stepped
back from the door he heard a stifled sob, the sound of a man trying very hard
not to cry. Jack eased the door open, saying softly, "John? Are you all right?" 

There was silence, then John cleared his throat and mumbled, "'M'okay, Dad,
it's nothing." 

*Like hell it is,* Jack thought. He came into the room and saw his son's
shoulders were trembling under the thin sheet. "My God, son, you're shaking
like a leaf. Don't tell me it's nothing." He switched on the bedside lamp, sat
on the edge of the bed and gently pulled John onto his back. The younger man's
eyes gazed up at him, and there was a terror in them that Jack hadn't seen
since John's first nightmare as a child. "What is it? Talk to me." 

It took John a moment to gain control of his voice, and when he did speak, Jack
had to bend a little to hear him. "I could see it all, Dad, like I was sitting
next to her. Her driving down the road, the truck cutting too close, all of it.
I could hear her scream, and... the blood... oh, shit..." The sobs began anew,
and Jack gathered his son into his arms. The muffled words cut into his heart:
"Why did she have to come for us? Why... why couldn't it have been me instead?" 

Jack held John tightly, letting him cry himself out. When the torrent eased, he
loosened his hold and said, "John, look at me." It took a moment, but the
younger man complied finally. "Listen to me, and really listen. You are NOT
responsible. It could have happened to her on the way to the market just as
easily. " 

"But why her? Of all the people who didn't deserve it..." 

"Your grandpa and I asked that same question when your grandma died. She really
didn't deserve to go the way she did, the cancer taking her by inches. I
couldn't find a good answer then, and I don't think I have a good one now. All
I can figure is, your mom was needed someplace else more than she was needed
here." 

"You believe that?" 

"I have to believe it, son, or I don't know what I'd do - probably just go
crazy right now, I guess. I do know the last thing she'd want is for you to
blame yourself. She went to pick you up because she wanted to, and what
happened... just happened. You feeling guilty for something you had no control
over - you know what she'd have to say to that." 

"'John Robert Crichton Junior, just what is your problem?'" John said, his
inflection a perfect imitation of his mother. A slight smile tugged at his
mouth, and Jack smiled in response. 

"That's about it. Now lay back down and try to get some sleep. I'll stay here
for a bit." 

"You don't have to, I'll be okay now, I think." 

"I know I don't have to. I want to. Settle in." John laid down, and Jack pulled
the sheet up over his shoulders, tucking it in gently. He pulled a chair up
next to the bed, turned off the lamp, and sat down. One hand reached out to
lightly stroke his son's short cropped hair. "Sleep sweet, son, and dream
happy." 

There were a few more rocky patches for all of them, but eventually life went
on, and Jack allowed himself to feel a bit of pride - he was keeping it
together better than he thought he would. He was coping. 

Reality came crashing in one day in May. Jack was driving down the road with
the radio on, not really paying much attention to what was playing. Then a
familiar lyric cut through to his consciousness: /"Earth angel, earth angel,
will you be mine..."/ 

The next thing Jack knew, he was parked by the side of the road, head down on
the steering wheel, tears flooding down his face. All the pain and loneliness
he'd repressed for months broke free, and it was more than he could bear,
searing his heart and tearing at his soul. "God, Nora, I miss you so much..." 

Uncounted minutes passed before he was able to control himself enough to put
the truck back in gear and go on. His original destination forgotten, he drove
to the cemetery for the first time since the funeral. Standing by Nora's grave,
he could feel her presence next to him, feel her love surround him. The tears
came again, but this time they were not tears of loss, but of gratitude for
what they'd had together. He was a lucky man. 

Jack gave himself a mental shake, bringing him back to the present, and picked
a few leaves off the grave. His visits had tapered off over the years - as his
grief had eased, so had his need to come here. He knew Nora would have wanted
that, too. Life was for living in the here and now, not dwelling on the past.
But he still came by from time to time, and always went away feeling better
than he had when he arrived. 

"Hello, angel. Yeah, I know it's been a while, but things have been busy
lately. If you've been watching, I guess you know that. It's really happening,
Nora - the module goes up in a few days. All the work, all the worry, all the
fighting to get the funding, it's all paying off. The government might invest
in six hundred dollar toilet seats, but they won't spend a dime on something
useful without a good reason. You should have seen John, Nora - him and DK
spending hours every day on that proposal, sweating out every word, then
talking themselves hoarse to committee after committee. And they won." 

Jack had wanted to make a few calls, smooth the way a bit, but knew he'd better
not without being asked. This was John's project, and he had to succeed by
himself, and on his own terms. Jack knew what was driving his son - as much as
Jack might not think of himself as one, the rest of the country still
considered him a hero for his space exploits. Growing up with that over one's
head was a daunting proposition, and John was fierce about his independence and
individuality. Jack respected that, and was proud of John for sticking by his
guns. 

"So I'm going down there in a little bit, but I had to stop by here first. He
won't take help from me, but I don't think he'd mind if you looked after him a
little bit." Jack smiled and rose, brushing off his slacks. He kissed his
fingertips and touched the headstone. "I'll try to get back soon, angel. Sleep
sweet, and dream happy. I love you." 

~~~~~ 

The Farscape 1 module seemed to glow in the subdued light of the hangar. Sleek
and white, with the IASA logo emblazoned on her side, she was state of the art
and beyond. Jack ran his hand along the side, marveling at how solid a dream
could feel. 

"Couldn't stay away, could you?" said a soft voice behind him. 

Jack turned. DK stood in the doorway and came forward, smiling. "I had to take
another look at her. I tried to figure a time when John wouldn't catch me." 

"Well, your secret is safe with me, Colonel." DK gazed up at the module, a huge
grin on his face. "She's a beauty, isn't she? I still can't quite believe she's
finally going up - it's almost like I'm scared to touch her, I'm afraid she'll
vanish." 

"Everything been checked?" 

"Double, triple and quadruple checked - think we're wearing out the components
testing them." 

"Well, you can't be too careful. Look what one O-ring did to the Challenger." 

"Don't remind me," DK groaned. "Weather permitting, and it looks like it
should, this bird flies in five days. Wish I was going on her, too." 

"Next time maybe you will." 

"Maybe. I gotta run, Colonel - I'm supposed to meet John at the simulator. He
wants to go over some stuff...again. Man, and I thought I was anal retentive!
Talk to you later." 

"Good luck." DK left, and Jack looked up again at the module. Tears filled his
eyes, but he was smiling. "Hey, Nora, look at what our boys did," he whispered.
"Pretty neat, huh?" 

***** 
Stilted conversations 
I'm afraid that's all we've got 
***** 

The Uncharted Territories, Present Day 

John Crichton strode into Pilot's chamber for what he realized would be the
last time, the bag containing his meager possessions thrown over his shoulder.
His steps faltered for a moment and Pilot glanced up at him, his attention
momentarily diverted from Moya's controls. Quickly regaining his composure,
John approached the console and laid a steadying hand along its edge. "Is the
wormhole still stable, Pilot?" 

Pilot nodded succinctly. "Yes, it seems to be, but we have no way of knowing
for how long. It may last for days, maybe months. Or, perhaps, for mere
microts." John nodded, having already weighed the risks in his mind. But this
was his chance to get home - for real, this time. It was worth any risk. 

"In her present condition, it will take Moya another forty arns before she is
capable of starbursting again. If something happens, if you..." Pilot stopped,
then averted his gaze as he tapped a few panels. "You will have until then." 

John smiled. "I'll remember that. And Pilot - thanks." The large head bobbed in
acknowledgement, and with a deep breath, John left to say the rest of his
goodbyes. 

~~~~~ 

The crew of Moya had gathered in the Maintenance Bay to bid their lone human
member farewell. They stood clustered around Farscape I, as if saying farewell
to the 'primitive technology', as well. Approaching them from behind, he let
his gaze drift over them one by one. The warrior with a gentle side he tried so
hard to hide; the priestess of unexpected strength; the woman-child who just
wanted to belong somewhere, anywhere... Even the insecure, overbearing Dominar
had put in an appearance. He chuckled to himself as he watched a DRD with a
familiar strip of blue electrical tape weave among the wheels of the module.
His crewmates - his friends. All but one. 

Unnoticed, he slipped away to find her. After a quick check of her quarters, he
found her on the Terrace staring silently at the tumultuous wormhole that would
soon lead him home. The door swished closed behind him, but she did not turn. 

"So," he said by way of greeting. "I'm almost ready to go. There's just one
more thing I need." 

"What's that?" Aeryn asked. 

"You." 

She still didn't move. Clearing his throat nervously, he tried again. "Aeryn,
please come with me." 

"No." 

No. That was it? No argument, no explanation, just "no"? Sure, Aeryn wasn't
exactly the talkative type, but after all they had been through, he had
expected more than that. He thought he *deserved* more than that. More than a
little hurt by her abrupt response, his temper flared. "Why not?" he snapped,
his voice harsher than he had intended. 

Finally she turned to face him, her answer coming in the form of a challenge.
"Give me one good reason why I should come with you." 

John opened his mouth to shoot back a response, then immediately snapped it
shut. One good reason. He could think of dozens. But in the back of his mind, a
little voice screamed out one thought above all the rest - *Because I love
you.* 

That was enough for him, but would it be for Aeryn? He took a moment to
consider his alternatives. What if he just came out and said it? Right here,
right now? What would happen? 

It didn't take long to see the problems with that plan. If he told her, and she
didn't reciprocate his feelings, he would go back to Earth with a broken heart.
Great option. But if he didn't say anything, he would always wonder. Of course,
maybe ignorance really was bliss - especially compared to flat-out rejection. 

*But what if she does love you?* the little voice wheedled, refusing to be
ignored. But what did it matter? Either way, could he ask her to come with him?
If she did love him, could he bring himself to use that to convince her - guilt
her - into leaving Moya? How selfish was that? Essentially, he was asking her
to give up everything for him. Again. 

*I can't ask her to do that,* his conscience protested. *I can't.* With a
start, he realized that he had spoken the last words aloud. "I can't," he
repeated softly. It was too much to ask. 

A strange look flashed across Aeryn's face, and surprisingly, John found he
couldn't figure out what it meant. Hurt? Disappointment? Relief? What had that
been? Usually he could read Aeryn like a book - he could instantly tell when
she was frustrated, or tired, or ready to knock his lights out. But not this
time. Confused, he took a step towards her, only to have her take a quick step
back. John groaned inwardly. *Well, it looks like I have my answer.* He cleared
his throat, suddenly angry for some inexplicable reason. "So, I guess this is
it." 

Aeryn stared at a point over his left shoulder, her face blank. "Yes, I suppose
it is." 

Running a hand through his hair, John glanced around the Terrace. Damn, even
after her rebuke, this was harder than he had expected. He just wanted to get
out of here; get this over with before he totally lost it. "Yeah. Well. It was
nice knowing you, Aeryn. You've been a great friend, and I'll miss you." To his
extreme irritation, his voice cracked slightly. Damn again. "So, uh, take care,
okay?" 

The woman in front of him nodded. "Yes. You, too, Crichton. 'Take care'."
Finally she met his gaze, her head held high, a false smile on her lips. John
searched her eyes, looking for something, not really knowing what. But the
walls were up again, and he could see nothing but an ex-Peacekeeper saying
farewell to a comrade. Well, that would have to do. 

He stared at her for a long moment, desperately trying to imprint her features
on his memory. Then pivoting quickly on his heel, he turned and walked out of
the Terrace. He never looked back. 

If he had, he would have seen the solitary tear that escaped down Aeryn Sun's
cheek before she could angrily brush it away. 

~~~~~ 

John sat calmly at the controls of Farscape I, hovering a few metras from Moya.
For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what he was waiting for. He was
going home, just like he had always wanted; always dreamed. He had said his
goodbyes. Looking out at the beautiful Leviathan, he felt a sharp pain of
regret. He would miss them. His friends. All of them. In his mind, he could
picture them as he had last seen them, standing at the door to the Docking Bay,
watching him until the doors had closed. All but Aeryn, that is. He wished that
she had joined the others, but apparently she felt they had said all they
needed to. Maybe she was right. Glancing towards Earth, he thought of his
father. DK. The people he had never had a chance to say goodbye to. 

He could feel those rattlers again. 

With one last look at Moya, John took a deep breath. "Just do it." With a sharp
twist of his wrist, he turned Farscape nose-to-tail and streaked towards Earth.
Towards home. 

Alone on the Terrace, Aeryn watched him leave. 

***** 
I didn't get to tell him 
All the things I had to say 
***** 

Florida, Present Day 

Commander John Crichton, missing and presumed dead, landed at the Kennedy Space
Center on Cape Canaveral with relatively little fanfare. With the coastal
weather as unpredictable as it was, shuttles usually landed at White Sands or
Edwards - and they were usually expected. His arrival was surprising, yet
occurred without incident. 

John had been more than a little apprehensive about how he would be received
after the disaster of the alien trial so long ago, but apparently his
expectations of humans had been a little low. While at IASA he had learned a
specific recovery process - and unlike last time, that's exactly what he was
experiencing. He had been immediately placed in quarantine, of course, but for
the twelve hours he had been on Earth, he had been treated well. He had even
been able to find out who had won the Super Bowl. 

"The *Saint Louis* Rams??" "Yep. And it's looking like they could do it again." 

"This has *got* to be real. There's no way I could come up with something as
insane as that." 

However, not even his excitement over catching up on the latest sporting news
could keep his mind occupied for long. With an exasperated sigh, he tossed the
magazine on the floor next to the bed. He had read the same paragraph four
times before finally admitting it was pointless. He didn't want to be here, in
this sterile little room. He wanted to be home, with his family. The problem
was, he was having a hard time deciding which 'home' and 'family' he meant. 

The pneumatic sound of the door whisking open was a relief. Now maybe instead
of talking about him behind closed doors, they would actually talk *to* him.
Sitting up, he swung his legs over the side just as DK entered the small room.
Beaming, John crossed the floor in a few long strides and engulfed his oldest
friend in an enthusiastic hug. 

"Damn, it's good to see you, man!" John exclaimed happily, leaning back to
examine the other man. 

DK laughed. "You're telling me! How are you? Where the hell have you been??" 

John snorted good-naturedly. "I don't even know where to start with that one." 

"Well, you sure make one hell of an entrance, that's for sure." 

Looking around the room, John's voice lowered as he grew serious. "How much can
I say, with, you know..." He tilted his head pointedly towards the corners of
the room. 

DK shrugged. "They're not monitoring the room. All of the equipment's turned
off. You're one of their own and it's not like a big ol' mothership was tagging
along behind you. They're not worried. Curious as hell, but not worried.
Besides, they figure they'll get it all out of you over the next few days,
anyway." 

He stared at John silently for a moment. "What was it, John? What happened out
there? The electro-magnetic wave - was it a wormhole?" 

John grinned, sharing his friend's barely restrained enthusiasm. It wasn't
every day you were able to confirm the existence of a previously unproven
anomaly. "Yeah. You nailed it, man. I didn't even realize it until it spit me
out the other side." 

With a whoop, DK grabbed John in another hug. "I *knew* it! I went over the
data again and again, night after night... I knew that's what it had to have
been! I told them, and they didn't believe me! I *told* them!! They just
chalked it up to stress and emotional strain and gave me two weeks of mandatory
'vacation'. Damn. You know, the only person who ever believed me was your dad.
He knew you couldn't be..." DK's voice trickled off, the exuberance fading from
his gaze. Still caught up in the excitement, John didn't notice his friend's
sudden change of mood. He looked around expectantly. "So, where *is* Dad? Is he
on the way?" 

DK's face fell and his eyes darted around the room. He cleared his throat
nervously, running a hand through his dark hair as he looked back at John.
"Umm... Damn. I don't know how to tell you this." He took a deep breath before
continuing. "John, your dad died. About two months ago." 

Stunned, John sank onto the bed. "No. There was so much... so many things I had
to tell him." His voice faltered as his mind sifted through the knowledge that
his father was gone. "How?" 

"A massive heart attack. No signs, no warning. It just - gave out. The whole
time, he refused to accept you were gone, that you were dead. He believed for
so long... And then one day... it was like he just gave up." A faraway look
entered DK's eyes, and John knew he was lost in the memory. "I was going over
there for dinner, like I had every week since you... disappeared. I was so
excited - I had found this awesome beer at the grocery store; stuff we only
used to be able to find in Boston. I walked in, and... dammit, John, I've never
been so scared in my life. 

"He must have tried to dial 911, I guess, but it got too bad too fast. He told
me - he told me to tell you that he was sorry he couldn't wait anymore. He
wanted to, I know he did, but... he just couldn't. 

"It only took the ambulance a few minutes to get there once I called, but by
then - he was already gone. He died in my arms." DK's voice finally faltered,
and he brushed his sleeve across his eyes. 

Unbidden, a long-ago memory flashed through John's mind. *We weren't here, Dad,
none of us. That's what hurts ... she was alone.* His dad hadn't been alone. DK
had been there. That, at least, was a comfort. But his dad was still dead -
gone before he had gotten the chance to tell him so many things. 

Patting his pockets awkwardly, DK pulled out a yellowed square of paper and
passed it to John. "Annie found this a few days... after. It was in an
envelope, with my name on it. I think he must have written it right after your
mom died." 

John slowly unfolded the note, instantly recognizing his father's bold script.
The faded words blurred before his eyes as he read the short message. 

/"John - I guess this is the closest thing to a legacy that I have to pass on.
I hope someday you find someone to love as much as I loved your mother. And son
- never stop being who you are. I love you."/ 

At the bottom, in darker, fresher ink, there was a note to DK. /"You know I
loved you as if you were my own son. I want you to keep this. I hope someday
you'll be able to give it to John for me, but if that day never comes, there's
no one else I would rather entrust it to but you."/ 

John carefully re-folded the note and looked up to see DK holding his hand out
towards him, a delicate gold chain dangling from his fingers. Recognition stole
John's breath away as another wave of emotion washed over him. Suspended from
the chain a small gold oval rotated slowly, the diamond chip in the center
twinkling as it reflected the light. 

"Mom's locket," John breathed as he gently took the necklace from DK. "I
thought she had been buried with it." 

DK nodded. "We all did. I guess your dad changed his mind and decided to keep
it with him." 

He stared at the locket for a moment, remembering the last time he had seen it.
With an anguished moan, John buried his face in his hands and gave in to his
emotions. His mind wandered back through the years - the football games, the
fishing trips, the flying lessons... the funeral and the long, dark days that
had followed. 

Jack had always been there for him, John realized. Maybe not in the flesh, and
maybe not on time, but he had always known that if he needed his father, he
would be there - supporting him, encouraging him, loving him. He had shown his
love through his actions, if not the words. 

And that was what was important, John decided. That the people you loved knew
you loved them, no matter how you chose to express it. He hoped he had shown
his father how much he loved him. There was nothing he could do now - he would
just have to hope it had been enough. 

A few quiet minutes passed before his thoughts returned to the present. Rubbing
his eyes, he carefully tucked the note and locket into a side pants pocket on
his flight suit. DK had backed off, letting him have his space... lost in his
own memories. *Closer than brothers,* John reminded himself. 

And it worked both ways - instinctively, John could tell that DK was worried
about something. More than just having to break the news about his father...
With a fortifying breath, John looked up and managed a half-smile. "I'm okay,
man. Under control - for now, at least," he admitted. "Now what's going on?" 

DK's eyes were rimmed with red, but the tension radiating from his posture was
what worried John the most. His best friend's words did nothing to reassure
him. "Look, I have to warn you, IASA is trying to keep this as quiet as
possible. They're already up to their ears trying to counteract the dozens of
UFO sightings that have been reported, not to mention still freaking out about
this latest 'electro-magnetic wave'. I would have been here sooner, but they
want me to start working on the ship as soon as possible. They figure that
since I know the base technology we started with, I can figure out what's been
changed." He stopped to study John. "But I don't know, man. I had a chance to
check it out right before I came here, and I have to tell you, I don't even
know where to start." Even without the threat of surveillance equipment, DK's
voice dropped to just above a whisper. "What the hell happened out there, John?
What did you find?" 

What had he found? Now *that* was a question with one hell of an answer. John
laughed bitterly. "I found a lot of things, man. I found a ship. I found a
whooole 'nother part of the universe," he said as he spread his arms wide. He
gave another snort of laughter, then shook his head. How could he sum it all up
in just a few words? It would take hours to even scratch the surface; he could
never do it justice. "I found some enemies. I found a family. One that I could
substitute for the one I lost when I came through that wormhole. That's what I
always thought, at least." John shook his head sadly. "And the whole time, I
dreamed about finding a way home. But now that I'm finally here... all I can
think about is what I'm missing," he murmured. He looked up quickly, worried
that his words had offended DK. 

DK shrugged and waved away John's apology, but a wistful look haunted his gaze.
Staring at his oldest friend, John found himself wishing he could have the best
of both worlds. 

The idea struck like a bolt of lightning. Perfect. It was the perfect solution.
He stood and moved next to DK, reaching out to lay a hand on his arm. "Come
back with me, DK. You wouldn't believe what's out there. D'Argo would probably
kill me for bringing another primitive human on board, and Rygel would bitch
about another mouth to feed, but they'd get used to it. You'd love it, man -
it's the ultimate adventure." 

Excitement flared in his friend's eyes, only to be replaced with a pained look.
"Damn, John, if you had asked me that a year ago, nothing would have been able
to hold me back. But now - I met someone, John. We're getting married next
month, and I can't..." 

Despite his disappointment, John beamed for a moment, but the smile abruptly
fled from his face. "That's great, man. I'm happy for you, I really am. It's
just - " 

"Your life is there now." It wasn't a question. 

"Yeah. I don't know that I really understood that until now, but you're right.
I just wish there was some way..." 

DK held up his hand to stop whatever John was about to explain. "I know, man. I
understand. And as much as I'd love to have you stick around, meet Julia, be my
best man... I also don't want to hold you back." He sighed and ran a hand
through his hair. "You know I love you like a brother. But sometimes, I guess
you gotta let go of those you love, so they can be truly happy. It sucks, but
in the end, that's the way it's gotta be." 

Yeah, he knew all about that one. "If you love something, let it go." He had
let go of Aeryn, and now he was miserable. He briefly allowed himself to wonder
if there was any chance Aeryn was as unhappy as he was. *I always hated that
damn saying,* he thought bitterly. 

He frowned suddenly as his thoughts led him farther down the path. It had
worked for his parents. How had they done it? His mom had let his dad go all
those times because she knew that's what made him happy - and it had never
seemed to bother her. 

His dad may have faithfully promised to come back from his missions, but his
mom had to have realized that every goodbye could potentially be their last. As
an astronaut's wife, she understood the risks - but she had still managed to
let him go, time and time again, knowing that he would do everything he could
to get back to her. John winced as he thought back to his last moments with
Aeryn. He had given her no such reassurances. 

So what was the secret? When did 'If you love something, let it go' not mean
'forever'? 

*Of course... Damn, Crichton, for a PhD, you sure can be dense sometimes.* His
mother had always known that his father loved her - and that every time he went
up, part of her went with him while part of him stayed with her. The pieces
fell into place. That was the key. His parents had been able to let go because
they knew what they meant to each other. He knew Aeryn was in his heart - and
he had hoped he was in hers - but did *she* know it? 

*You idiot,* he cursed himself. Here he was, lamenting that fate had stolen his
chance to tell his father how he felt - and only hours earlier, he had walked
away from Aeryn without telling her the same things. 

Suddenly amidst all the doubts, it all became clear. He knew what he had to do.
With a small, sad smile, John drew his oldest friend into a hug. They clapped
each other on the back, each realizing their lives, so long spent together, had
led them apart for the final time. "If I'm gonna go, I gotta go now, before
it's too late. Before she - before they leave. I'm gonna need your help,
though." 

DK quirked an eyebrow at him. "You got it. Just tell me what to do." 

John grinned mischievously. "Hey, I broke out of quarantine the morning before
I left. It's not gonna be hard to do it again. You bring the ship, I'll bring
myself." 

~~~~~~ 

Aeryn Sun sat in the center chamber pushing food cubes around a plate, trying
to calm down. She was irrationally angry at everyone, and her short temper had
already caused her to snap at both D'Argo and Pilot. Resting her elbow on the
table, she shifted to sit sideways on the bench. She propped her head on her
hand and nibbled unenthusiastically at a green cube, hoping that if she ate
something, she could get rid of the sick feeling in her stomach that had
plagued her all day. Well, since Crichton had said he was leaving... but she
refused to admit that was the reason for the emptiness inside her. 

The sound of soft footsteps drew her out of her musings. Glancing up, she
watched Chiana saunter into the room. "Mind if I join you?" 

Aeryn waved a hand in the air. Not even the young Nebari's antics could annoy
her now. "Whatever," she said, wincing as she realized she had internalized yet
another of John's human phrases. 

She turned her attention back to the far wall as Chiana lowered herself to the
bench. Aeryn could feel Chiana's gaze on her. She had just reached the end of
her patience when the girl spoke. "So, are you going to eat those or just draw
pictures with them?" 

Momentarily confused, Aeryn followed Chiana's gaze down to her plate and found
that she had arranged the food cubes into one of John's 'happy faces'. With a
disgusted grunt, she shoved the plate away from her. Chiana reached over to
snag a brown cube. "How are you?" 

Her question was met with a glare. Aeryn opened her mouth to snap out a
response, then stopped. She looked closely at Chiana, not quite believing what
she saw. Chiana's gentle smile seemed genuine. Aeryn's stomach tightened as she
shrugged and dropped her gaze, not trusting herself to answer. They sat in
silence for a few moments, then Chiana reached for another food cube. "Not much
of a planet, really," she said casually. 

Aeryn laughed bitterly. "Well, it's his home, so apparently it means something
to him." 

Chiana laid a gentle hand on Aeryn's arm. Surprised, Aeryn jerked her head up
to meet her dark gaze. "I'll miss him, too." 

Aeryn opened her mouth to protest but the words wouldn't come. Suddenly all of
the anger drained out of her, leaving nothing but a deep, aching sense of loss.
She stared at Chiana, who smiled sympathetically, then turned her attention
back to the plate. Aeryn ducked her head to catch the unwelcome tears that had
suddenly sprung up in her eyes, and they fell into comfortable but sad silence. 

"Aeryn, Chiana, we need you in Command. Now." 

D'Argo's urgent voice broke the silence. Their eyes met for a moment, then
Aeryn pushed the plate away and stood, Chiana falling in step behind her as
they hurried towards Command. 

~~~~~~~ 

"What's wrong?" Aeryn demanded as they walked through the door. 

Zhaan turned from the main console and gestured to the viewscreen. "There's a
message coming through. It's from John." 

Of all the scenarios she had anticipated, that had not been one of them.
Startled, Aeryn jerked her head to the screen as the static cleared, revealing
Crichton in the cockpit of his ship. "Hey, Pilot, I hope you're still out
here." 

"Yes, Commander. Moya was preparing to starburst within the arn." 

"Well, don't leave without me." Pilot nodded and Crichton abruptly cut the
transmission as the others exchanged confused glances. ~~~~~ 

Aeryn joined the rest of the crew at the doors to the Docking Bay. It seemed
like they had just gone through this, less than a day ago... But this time, she
stood with them as they waited for Crichton to return. The Farscape module
glided to a smooth stop in front of them and the hatch released. In one swift
movement, John hoisted himself out of the cockpit and dropped easily to the
deck, surveying them warily. 

Aeryn's skin tingled as his gaze collided with hers. Her breath caught at the
intensity of the emotions in his eyes, and she found herself unable to look
away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zhaan took a hesitant step forward.
"Welcome back, John." 

At the sound of the Delvian's soft voice, Crichton's head jerked towards her,
breaking the connection. He held up a hand before Zhaan could continue. "Later,
Zhaan. Please, just... later," he ground out in a harsh whisper. Without
another word, he stalked past them and turned down the hall. 

Chiana made a disgusted noise. "Well, that was a happy reunion." 

Aeryn normally would have been annoyed by Chiana's tone, but suddenly she
realized it was just the Nebari's way of dealing with hurt and confusion. She
continued to watch John's departing back, finally voicing what had been obvious
since they had received the transmission announcing his return. "Something's
wrong." 

With an indignant look, Chiana gestured towards the hallway. "So let's find out
what it is!" 

Aeryn grabbed the Nebari's arm as she started to move past her, holding her in
a grip that was firm, yet much more gentle than it would have been even an arn
ago. "No. Not yet. When he's ready, he'll come to us." 

D'Argo and Zhaan exchanged a silent glance, then Zhaan reached out to lay her
hands on Chiana's shoulders, drawing her away from the direction Crichton had
taken. "She's right, dear. Patience. We must be patient." 

***** 
So don't yield to the fortunes 
You sometimes see as fate 
It may have a new perspective 
On a different day 
***** 

Six arns later 

"Pilot, would you tell Aeryn I'd like to talk to her? I'm in the Center
Chamber." 

Pilot looked up from his console to meet Aeryn's gaze. Silent communication
traveled between them; communication that had nothing to do with shared DNA and
everything to do with friendship. "Yes, of course. I'll let her know." After a
moment, Aeryn pushed away from the console and strode quickly out of the den.
Pilot waited a few microts, then tapped the comm panel. "She says she's on her
way." 

~~~~~~ 

He was facing away from the door when he heard her footsteps coming down the
hall. Without turning around, he simply continued twirling the tape in his
fingers. He listened as she stopped, hesitantly took a few more steps, then
stopped again. 

"My father's dead." 

Still staring at the stars, John heard her sharp intake of breath. He didn't
know what she had been expecting him to say, but apparently that wasn't it.
Surprised that she was affected so much by his revelation, it was a moment
before he continued. 

"It happened two months ago. Two lousy, stinking months." A bitter laugh
escaped from his throat. "Dollar short and a day late, yep, that's the story of
my life." 

With a resigned shake of his head, he looked down at his hands, feeling the
anger rise within him as he continued. "Dammit. All the things I never got to
tell him. I mean, these tapes... I kept making all these damn *tapes*, hoping
that someday I'd be able to see him again, to give them to him... and now I
finally get that chance, but it's too late. *I'm* too late." 

Disgusted, he chucked the tape at the window in front of him. It bounced off
and hit the shelf beneath it, falling to the floor a few feet away from where
Aeryn stood. He didn't even see it. "And then I realized, it's not just the
tapes. There's so much I didn't get to tell him. So much I should have said;
stuff that's more important than anything on these tapes. Like, I never told
him that I don't blame anyone for my mother's death - him or me. And I didn't
get to tell him that I never really resented having to follow in his footsteps;
that I was proud to be his son... even if I couldn't be the kind of hero I
thought he wanted me to be. I don't know, maybe he didn't think I resented him
- but I hate thinking he might have. God knows I gave him reason to. It's
just... I wanted the chance to make sure he knew... I *couldn't* be his kind of
hero, because really, he was a hero just 'cause he was my dad. 

"And I didn't get to tell him that I loved him. And it's my fault, because I
could have. At any time, before this whole mess happened, I could have told
him. But I didn't. For stupid reasons - I don't know, pride, and all that macho
bullshit crap. But mostly because I always thought there would be time later.
But now it's later, and suddenly there's no time left." 

As he talked, he slowly turned toward Aeryn, yet his thoughts kept him focused
elsewhere. His mind registered that she still stood quietly where she had first
stopped, just inside the door. He wasn't sure if she was following what he was
saying - if she was still listening, even - much less if she cared about his
disjointed ramblings. But the words kept coming. 

"And then I started to think about everyone here, on Moya. And all the things I
never told any of you, that I should have. Maybe I meant to, someday, but
that's not good enough. You would think that being out here I would have
figured it out earlier. But I didn't. It took going home to make me truly
understand that 'someday' isn't guaranteed, and that I can't just assume that
everyone already knows what I feel. So I need to say all those things now.
While I still can. While there's still someone hear to listen." 

He could see Aeryn's brow furrow, but the quizzical look he had expected was
nowhere to be seen. Maybe he was making more sense than he thought... "Like, I
never told Rygel that I'm proud of him for the way he treated his subjects on
Acquara. And Zhaan, I never told her thanks for all the times she helped me, by
just being nice and trying to understand. See, just little things, but things
that need to be said. Things I wish I had been able to say to my dad." He was
on a roll now. He was gonna get it all out while he could. He had to, and
nothing was going to stop him. His thoughts poured out of his mouth unchecked,
surprising even him in their honesty. "And I never told Pip that even though I
treat her like my kid sister, there are times when she proves to be a helluva
lot smarter than I am. And I never told Pilot how thankful I am that he hasn't
chucked us all out an airlock for some of the shit we've pulled. And I never
told D'Argo that I consider it an honor to call myself his friend." 

Finally he turned to focus fully on Aeryn. Their eyes locked, and as in the
Docking Bay earlier that day, he felt the air rush from his lungs. Her
expression turned wary, and he knew she felt it, too. Watching her face
closely, he took a deep breath and continued. "And you, Aeryn. I never told you
that I love you. I almost did, right before I left. But I was too afraid.
Afraid that you wouldn't feel the same way, or that telling you would somehow
make you feel you had to go with me, even if you really didn't want to. But now
I know that's just a lame excuse. I've known it for a long time, and there have
been plenty of chances. But I always told myself I'd tell you later, when the
time was right. Now I know that I have to say these things *now*, 'cause there
may never be a later, and there may never be a 'right' time because it's
*always* the right time, as long as you're here to hear me say it." 

John finally stopped to take a breath, studying Aeryn's face. Her expression
hadn't changed. He wasn't really sure what he had expected. Something,
anything... A declaration of love? Probably not. A Pantak Jab to the chin? That
seemed more and more likely with each passing moment. With a start, he sucked
in his breath, suddenly realizing exactly how much he had revealed. He felt a
twinge of doubt, but quickly dismissed it. He had made his decision and now he
had to live with the consequences. It didn't matter, really. Just like his
mother and father, Aeryn would always be a part of his heart - she *was* his
heart. Finally, he understood - that was all that mattered. 

With a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair and glanced around for the tape he
had thrown in his fit of anger. "Anyway, I just wanted you to know." Still
Aeryn said nothing. 

Finally he spotted the tape, miraculously still in one piece after the abuse it
had taken. Avoiding her gaze, he bent down to snag it between his fingers, then
headed for the door. Just as he brushed past her shoulder, her gentle touch on
his arm stopped him. Slowly, hesitantly, he turned to find her staring at him
with that penetrating gaze he had come to know so well. 

"You love me," she stated flatly. 

"Yeah." 

"You have for a long time." 

*Oh, for...* What part hadn't she understood? "Yeah, Aeryn, I have." Irritated
with himself, he searched the stars, frustrated. He looked back at her and
opened his mouth to try to get himself out of the situation with a small
portion of his pride intact when something in her eyes caught his attention. He
froze. "Aeryn?" he asked softly, almost afraid to hope. 

And finally, she smiled. 

"Well, that's good, because I'd hate to be alone on this." 

"Are you saying..." He searched her face, understanding that although she might
not say the words, the feeling was there. "You are. Why didn't you - " 

"Because I didn't realize it until you left." She shook her head slightly, as
if coming to a decision. "No, I didn't allow myself to *accept* it until you
left. Then it was too late." She studied him intently, suddenly looking
hesitant and... could it be? Aeryn Sun, afraid? "I don't want it to be too late
anymore, John." 

With a reassuring smile, he reached out to draw her against him. "It's not too
late." 

Her brow furrowed as he turned her gently in his arms. A moment later he draped
his mother's locket around her neck, brushing her hair to the side as he
fastened the clasp. Aeryn carefully lifted the pendant to study it, then
twisted her head to look at him. "What is this?" she asked softly. 

"It's a promise," John told her softly. He reached around her, enveloping her
in his embrace as he took the locket from her fingers, her hands sliding back
to anchor lightly on his forearms. John opened the locket to display its
contents, a light brown lock of hair now resting opposite the darker one. "My
father gave it to my mother on their wedding day. He told her it was a way for
him to always be with her, even when he was gone. So even though he wasn't
there when she died - it was okay because they were always together in their
hearts." 

He closed the locket and let it gently fall back against the hollow of her
throat. Turning her towards him, he framed her face in his hands. "It's also
*my* promise, Aeryn. Whatever happens, wherever we are - we'll always be
together in our hearts. Always." 

He could see her working it over in her mind, still afraid to trust her
feelings. But this time, he wasn't worried. They had plenty of time to sort it
all out. Finally, she seemed to arrive at a decision. "Always," she agreed with
a small nod. "But I believe I still prefer to have you with me in person, as
well." 

She did have a point... Brushing the backs of his fingers down her cheek, he
softly reassured her, "I'm not going anywhere again." 

Her tone was teasing, but he could see the underlying seriousness in her eyes
as she raised her arms to drape them around his neck. "Seems like I've heard
that before, Crichton." 

"Yeah, and I came back, didn't I?" 

She pretended to think for a moment. "I believe the promise was that you would
never leave me in the first place." 

His lips curved into a grin and he pressed his forehead to hers, his voice
dropping to a whisper. "Well, just try to get rid of me now." He silenced her
soft laugh as his lips came down to meet hers. 

***** 
I think I caught his spirit 
Later that same year 
I'm sure I heard his echo 
In my baby's new born tears 
***** 

The Uncharted Territories, Two cycles later 

An indignant squall filled the makeshift medbay, the age-old indication that
another life had just been welcomed into the universe. And, as usual, the new
arrival seemed less than impressed with the abrupt change in surroundings. 

Exhausted, Aeryn collapsed back on the medtable, still clutching John's hand
tightly in her own. Zhaan smiled serenely, her hands working quickly but
gently. "Congratulations. You have a healthy baby boy." 

John pressed his forehead against Aeryn's sweat-soaked brow, his smile tired
but exuberant. "You did it, babe. Incredible." 

Aeryn could only smile, still breathing too hard to say anything. Within
moments, the newborn was wrapped securely in a warm blanket and placed in his
mother's arms for the first time. With a small hiccup, his cries subsided.
"Aeryn and John, your son." 

John mouthed a silent 'thank you' to Zhaan before turning his full attention to
the baby. He was only peripherally aware of Zhaan standing slightly back from
the side of the bed, a look of contented amusement on her serene features as
she watched the proud parents counting toes and fingers and murmuring nonsense.
The child remained quiet, his piercing blue eyes staring calmly at Aeryn. After
a moment of silent contemplation, his eyes drifted shut. 

John stroked the silky hair that covered the baby's head with his right hand,
flexing the fingers on his left and absently wondering if he'd ever regain full
feeling in them again. *It was worth every bit of it, though,* he concluded as
he looked down at the mother of his child. 

"I'm sorry, Aeryn." 

Aeryn lifted her gaze from the baby for the first time. "Sorry? Why?" 

Glancing back to the sleeping child, he reached out to lovingly brush the backs
of his knuckles down Aeryn's cheek. "I know you were hoping for a girl." 

Aeryn smiled, turning her face into his gentle caress. "Next time," she
whispered, finally giving in to the exhaustion of endless arns of labor. 

John's lips quirked into a grin as he leaned over to drop a kiss on her
forehead. "I do love you, Aeryn Sun." Aeryn, already half-asleep, murmured
something unintelligible as her eyelids drifted shut, the long lashes brushing
her flushed cheeks. 

A gentle hand rested on John's shoulder, and he turned to find Zhaan standing
behind him. "John, there are some procedures I have to finish here with Aeryn.
Why don't you and your son spend some time together?" 

John glanced at Aeryn, reluctant to leave her side, but knowing she would be
safe with Zhaan. It was never too early for some male bonding, he decided. He
leaned over and carefully took the baby from Aeryn's arms. She murmured a small
protest, but he reassured her with a kiss and a whispered promise. "Sleep sweet
and dream happy, Aeryn. We'll be back soon." 

~~~~~ 

John silently entered the Terrace, cradling his son securely against his chest.
They had been unable to find anything that could double as an incubator, so
Pilot had slightly increased Moya's environmental temperature to accommodate
the baby, still keeping it well within Aeryn's comfort level. Moving to the
middle of the floor, John whispered softly to the infant bundled in his arms.
"Look at all those stars. Amazing, huh? This is our favorite place, you know.
We spend a lot of time out here, just Aeryn and me." He paused and a rueful
look crossed his face. 

"Wanna know something stupid? A few cycles ago, I almost totally blew it with
your mom. I almost walked out of her life forever, and she was gonna let me.
Pretty dumb, huh? But then we realized that love was stronger than anything
else that could keep us apart." 

John shifted the baby in his arms and wandered over to the very end of the
Terrace, watching the stars and reminiscing. "We actually had a wedding
ceremony, too. Right here. It was pretty funny, actually - everyone had to put
their own two cents in. They all wanted to contribute their own customs and
stuff, so what we wound up with probably isn't valid in any of our societies,
but we didn't really care. We were here with the people we consider our family,
and that was all we needed. You'll get to meet them all soon, I promise.
They've been pretty excited about you." John chuckled to himself as he thought
about his crewmates' behavior over the past few months - Rygel's feigned
indifference that failed to mask his excitement; Chiana's unending curiosity;
Zhaan's sound advice and reassurances; D'Argo and Pilot's quiet pride. Yep,
quite the family. Unbelievable. 

With a slight shake of his head, he continued the story. "So we got married,
more or less. Then about a cycle ago, we found out that Peacekeeper High
Command came out and got Scorpius. Decommissioned him and everything. It was
actually kind of anti-climatic. Here we had expected some big blow-out fight,
but instead, it's just... over. Nobody was too sure what we were supposed to
do. We were free, we didn't have to run anymore. That's when we decided it was
safe to try to start a family. It sure didn't take long." 

His eyes grew sad as a deeply-buried hurt surfaced once again. John chewed
lightly on his lower lip, trying to decide how to explain something he hadn't
talked about in a long time. 

"This is gonna sound pretty weird." He chuckled softly. "Probably because it
*is* weird..." 

"In about 75 cycles, you're going to have a half-sister. See, I told you it was
weird. It's a long story, and someday when you're old enough to fully
understand it, I'll tell you the whole crazy mess." 

"But what it all boils down to is that barring some really unusual
circumstances, I'm not gonna be alive when she's born. I'll never get to see
her." He took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. "So do me a favor?
Look her up for me. I dunno, take her out for a coffee or something. And if
they've told *her* the whole messed-up story, make sure she knows that I loved
her, even though I couldn't be there for her. Do that for me, okay? 'Cause I
promise - I *promise* - I will always be there for you and your mom." 

He stared through the invisible walls surrounding them, lost in thoughts of the
daughter he would never know and the son he held in his arms. It didn't take a
fool to realize that he had been given a rare second chance, and he intended to
take full advantage of it. Which meant... "Guess this means I have to figure
out a name for you, don't I? Aeryn says that traditionally, Sebacean fathers
name their sons, while the mothers name the daughters. That's how their last
names are carried on, too, I think she said. I dunno, but it sounds good to
me." The baby shifted slightly in his arms, and John looked down with a
chagrined smile. "Yeah, I know, I probably should have come up with some ideas
already, right? But I was so sure that you were gonna be a girl - sorry, but
this *is* your mom we're talking about - that I didn't even think about it." 

His voice trailed off as he remembered the night Aeryn had told him about the
custom. Zhaan had confirmed the pregnancy earlier that evening and after an
impromptu celebration dinner, they had retired to their quarters. Wrapped in
each other's arms, they had talked for arns, sharing everything that their
respective cultures had taught them about raising children. It hadn't amounted
to much, but it was a start. "Her Sebacean traditions are pretty important to
her, even though she'd never admit it. So I guess I'd better start thinking
about it, huh? We can't just call you 'Baby Crichton', although I could
probably pass it off as some strange human tradition, at least for a month or
so..." 

John looked down lovingly at his son, then chuckled. The baby was sleeping
soundly. He reached out and gently brushed his finger along the infant's satiny
cheek. "An arn old and you're already bored. Well, kiddo, you'd better get used
to it, 'cause I've got an awful lot of stories to tell you." 

After a moment he looked back out at the stars and smiled softly. His voice
cracked slightly as he whispered, "Hey, Dad. Look what I did. Pretty cool,
huh?" 

The heavens twinkled back in silent response. 

***** 
And if you don't give up, 
and don't give in 
You may just be O.K. 
***** 

The Uncharted Territories, Five cycles later 

Lying flat on his back in the middle of the Terrace, John stared out at the
blackness surrounding him. He had been there for over an arn, just watching the
stars and talking to his father. The recorder had gone the way of the dinosaurs
ages ago, but he still found himself faithfully talking to his dad. Especially
on days like today. 

"Daddy?" 

The small voice carried through the hall and onto the Terrace, drawing John
from his thoughts. Sitting up, he twisted the cricks out of his neck and called
out, "I'm right here, sport." 

John Robert Crichton III peeked his head around the corner of the doorway.
Catching sight of his father, he scurried across the floor to clamber into his
lap. "Whatcha doin'?" 

"Just watching the stars." His son raised a quizzical eyebrow, and John
couldn't help but laugh. Sometimes it was like looking in a mirror. Well, a
very small mirror... J.R. was his spitting image, identical in every way -
except for his eyes. Those were purely Aeryn's. John also maintained that he
had his mother's stubbornness, a trait Aeryn emphatically insisted was from the
Crichton gene pool. 

"What are they tonight?" 

John smiled and shifted into a more comfortable position, rearranging the boy
on his lap. Ever since he had been old enough to sit still long enough, J.R.
had loved hearing his father's stories about the pictures in the sky. John had
quickly run out of constellation legends, but as every new location provided a
new set of stars, he had become adept at making them up as he went along. And a
good thing, too, since his son never tired of hearing them. 

"Lots of things. Let's see, where do we start tonight?" Together father and son
searched the heavens, looking for patterns. Noting his rather limited choices,
he sighed inwardly. Moya was still near a system with two large suns. He'd have
to be creative tonight. 

He was momentarily distracted as J.R. squirmed around to face him, scrutinizing
him with an inquisitive stare. "Daddy, how come you know so many stories?" 

John smiled, knowing his gaze held a hint of sadness that his son would not
understand. "Well, *my* daddy taught them to me." He paused as a little more of
the sorrow lifted. "He taught me a lot of things..." 

"Wow, he must have been a really good daddy," J.R. declared knowingly. 

"Yeah, J.R., he was. He was a great daddy." They sat quietly for a moment, then
J.R. shifted restlessly. *Aaah, the attention-span of a toddler - never allows
you to get too down,* John mused. He hugged the boy closely to him, then
returned his attention to the stars. 

"There. Do you see that really bright star over there?" He pointed as J.R.
watched intently. "If you start with that bright star, then go down, then this
way, then across..." 

Outlining the vague shape with his finger, he frantically tried to think of a
story to go with it. "Does that look like a spoon to you, too?" 

"Yeah!" J.R. replied eagerly. 

"Well, that's a very special spoon. That's the spoon that saved ... Ermor." 

"Wow...." John smiled at his son's enthusiasm. 

"Yep. A long time ago, there were two countries who were having a war. But in
those days, they used to fight with spoons and forks. Ermor's army was
commanded by, ummm... October the Third. They were fighting a very greedy
country called, uh, Zeila. All of the other countries were too scared to fight,
but Ermor stood up to Zeila." 

J.R. yawned, desperately trying to fight the soothing effect of John's voice
that threatened to lull him to sleep. "What happened, Daddy?" 

"Well, while they were fighting with their spoons and forks, one of the
soldiers came up with an idea. He gave a spoon and a rock to everyone, and
showed them how to use the spoon to shoot the rock. And Ermor won the war! 

"So in order to remember Ermor's victory, they made a big wooden spoon and used
it to shoot little spoons up into the sky. And now those little spoons make up
the spoon we can see in the sky." 

He finished the story in a whisper, cradling his sleeping son in his arms.
Thank goodness for that Irish gift of blarney. It had saved his butt on more
occasions than he cared to remember... *Yet another thing Dad taught me,* he
acknowledged. He was attempting to figure out the best way to stand without
waking the boy when Aeryn's soft voice floated in from the hall. 

"J.R.?" 

"In here, babe," John called quietly. Her soft footfalls were enough to wake
J.R., who had unfortunately proven to be a notoriously light sleeper. 

"Mommy!" he cried, scrambling off John's lap and running across the floor. He
catapulted himself at Aeryn who, with an exaggerated grunt, swept him into her
arms. 

"More stories about pictures in the sky, hmm?" 

"Yeah, but I fell asleep before Daddy finished," he informed her somberly,
lightly fingering the shiny oval that rested below the hollow of her throat. 

"Sorry about that," she told John as her son wrapped one arm around her neck,
still clutching the locket in his other hand. 

John grimaced as he rose from the floor, the cramped muscles in his legs
protesting. "No problem. He would have woken up on the way back to bed,
anyway." Stretching, he asked, "Finally get her to sleep?" 

Aeryn rolled her eyes, but John could see the happiness emanating from them.
"Yes, *finally*." 

J.R. loosened his hold on Aeryn's neck and released the locket, leaning back to
study her with a disappointed frown. "Laynie's sleeping?" 

She dipped her forehead to touch his. "Yes, she is. And if you wake her up when
you go in to kiss her goodnight, you'll be eating nothing but food cubes for a
weeken!!!" J.R. erupted in giggles as she emphasized her threat by tickling his
stomach. Laughing with him, Aeryn set the squirming boy on the floor. "Now head
back to our quarters. Aunt Chiana has your bath all ready; she's just waiting
for you. We'll be there to tuck you in soon." 

"'kay!" J.R. ran off down the hall, an ever-present DRD scuttling along quickly
behind him. John watched him leave, then turned back to the stars. Listening to
Aeryn's footsteps as she crossed the floor towards him, he gently kidded, "Can
Auntie Chiana actually bend over that far anymore?" 

Aeryn's soft chuckle sounded in his ear as she wrapped her arms around his
middle and rested her cheek on his shoulder. "Not really. She supervises while
Kashel does all the work." 

"I know how *that* goes," John drawled teasingly. Aeryn responded by tightening
her arms around him and laughing. 

"Yes, but it's good practice. For both of them. The baby could come any day
now." 

"Finally," John groaned. Chiana had been quite upset when she realized that
Nebari pregnancies lasted almost twice as long as Human/Sebacean. It hadn't
helped that Alayna had been conceived, carried to term, and born all before
Chiana had conquered morning sickness - one aspect of impending motherhood that
seemed to be a universal constant. Chiana wasn't the only one ready for this
baby to be born... 

John twisted slightly in Aeryn's embrace and raised his arm so she could duck
underneath. She slid around him so they were face to face, then reached up to
drape her arms around his neck. He slipped his arms around her waist as she
continued, serious now. "She's desperately trying to experience as much as she
can in these last few days. I think she's worried that she won't be a good
mother." 

John made a dismissive noise. "She'll do fine. And Kashel's going to be a great
father." 

"Even if he is a nard?" Aeryn questioned, teasingly. 

"Nerd,