TITLE: "AWAKENINGS"

AUTHOR: Alison M. DOBELL

FANDOM: "Farscape"

PAIRING: JOHN/CRAIS

RATING: NC-17. M/M. *SLASH*

STATUS: New.

ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.

FEEDBACK: Welcomed

The usual disclaimers apply. No infringement of copyright is intended.

"AWAKENINGS"
A "Farscape" slash story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL
* * * * *

Pilot was distressed. Nothing he did would restore his connection to Moya. He felt as if he were dying yet knew that was just the desolation of his devoted heart. "Moya, Moya, answer me!" He begged. The silence that echoed back at him rocked everything upon which his whole existence had been founded.

Initially pleased to awaken, he had assumed they had somehow slipped free of the collar. Been rescued by the cunning of their eclectic crew. None of these things bore any resemblance to the stark, cold truth. The
collar was not only firmly in place around the leviathan but the Nebari who had fashioned it now walked the corridors of Moya as if they owned it. In a way Pilot supposed they did. He was too deeply entrenched in sorrow to feel anger. Whatever they had done to Moya it devastated him. Numbed his ability to think clearly. To even wonder what had happened to the crew. He assumed they had already been taken captive. He could not have been more wrong.

The two Nebari walked into Pilot's chamber, other Nebari splitting off and checking the corridors. Blank puzzled faces drifting out of his vision. Zarok approached him. Orla stood back a respectful distance.

"Where are they?"

Pilot tilted his head. "I do not know what you mean."

"The crew. Where did they go?"

Pilot raised his eyebrow ridge and managed to hide the flicker of hope from showing on his face. "What makes you think I would know? I have only just regained consciousness." He paused, his voice edged with sorrow. "Unlike Moya."

Zarok did not pick up on his concern for the leviathan. "They cannot hide from us."

"Then why question me when I know nothing?" Said Pilot angrily.

The Nebari nodded to himself. "You are showing aggressive traits. Unacceptable."

He made no further response, his eyes allowing the sadness to show. His clamshell head drooping in defeat. Zarok realised he was upset. In shock. "The leviathan is not injured." He offered.

Pilot did not stir.

"She will recover when we awaken her."

Still no response.

Zarok turned and looked at Orla. "They must still be on the ship. No lifepods jettisoned and there are no tranports missing. I want every microdench of this ship searched!"

She nodded and made a hasty retreat. Zarok turned back towards Pilot but he had rested his head down on his console, eyes closed and moist with tears. He did not have any faith that the crew could help them now. In arns they were destined to be captured and mind clensed anyway.

* * * * *

Crais lay on the floor in the cargo hold, oblivious to everything. It was a sharp stinging pain in his cheek that made him stir. Slowly at first then the stinging sensation pricked his hands, his face, and he felt himself roused rudely. He felt sluggish, body heavy and unresponsive. He realised he had been drugged. As these thoughts passed through his mind he felt Talyn's thoughts. Cautious, wary and begging him to listen but not respond. <The Builder has John>

Memory stirred in Crais. Images that hurt him. <You betrayed us>

<I obeyed the Builder>

<Tahanay is no God, Talyn>

<He is to me>

<No. Power does not give him the right to abuse your trust>

An awkard silence. Crais sat up carefully and noticed a circle of DRDs around him. He frowned and they scooted back a few metras just to be on the safe side. Now he knew what the sharp painful stings were. They had fired their small armaments at him to wake him. He got to his feet and leaned on a console for support. Felt Talyn's concern.

<I am alright, Talyn. What of John?>

<He sleeps>

<And the Builder?>

<He is busy>

Crais straightened. <Busy? Busy, how?>

<Creating something>

<What?>

<I do not know. He is working with the interstellar dust>

<This is our chance, Talyn>

<Chance?>

<Yes, to escape>

<There is no escape>

Crais sighed. <I am not going to argue with you Talyn. We have to get out of here. Away from Tahanay's influence>

Talyn fell silent. Crais made his way as quickly as he could to the pod bay. Paused as he looked down at Crichton. Felt his heart lurch to see him so used, the appendage still milking him as he slept. His face
looked hollowed out, pale, unhealthy. As if he was being sucked dry and would soon be left no more than a shell. <Talyn release him>

<I cannot>

Anger flowed through Crais but he fought to remain calm. <I said *release him*, Talyn. We do not have much time>

<The Builder will know>

<We have to risk that>

<Risk what?>

Crais spun at the sound of the cultured voice, knowing what he would find but praying he would be wrong. He was not wrong. Tahanay looked at him for a moment, a serene look on his face. All the blood drained from Crais's face. He backed away from him slowly, feeling himself come up against one of
Talyn's consoles. He slid one gloved hand behind his back, the console as familiar to him as his own body. As Tahanay moved towards him Crais tapped out something he thought he would never do. A subspace emergency code. In everyday basic parlance, he was calling for help. Even though he knew with
almost total certainty that there was no one out there to hear him.

He was wrong. Moving stealthily towards their position, Scorpius observed the change in the leviathan's status with interest. The Captain watched his face, waiting to carry out whatever command he issued. His
expression was thoughtful. Why would Crais be signaling for help? What had happened aboard the leviathan? Why was he using a subspace frequency? Scorpius nodded to the Captain, told her to hurry. If something had happened he needed to get there quickly. He would not risk losing Crichton now. All thoughts of stealth gone. Only speed mattered now. That and Crichton.

* * * * *

Zhaan had no idea what Rygel thought he was going to find in the apothecary but they all hurried there as fast as they could. She fancied she could hear the soft padded footsteps of the Nebari behind them. Chiana was a mess, fear running rampant and making her white face seem even more ghost-like. D'Argo was ready to burst a blood vessel, barely containing his impatience. "You have a plan?"

Rygel made a deprecating sound in the back of his throat. "Yes, but it depends upon what we can find of a volatile nature in here."

"Volatile?" Growled D'Argo.

"Yes," Snapped the Hynerian Dominar. "Volatile. And for once Luxan, I do not mean your temper."

Before D'Argo could respond Zhaan moved in to calm them down. "We do not have time for this. Rygel. What is your plan?"

"Chiana says the collar has rezaric acid in it."

"Yeah," Said Chiana, surprised that the Dominar had even been paying attention to her earlier words. With three stomachs to continually feed he was normally too abstracted to worry about a little thing like their survival. "It's used in the making of the collar."

"Your point?" Hissed the Luxan impatiently.

"My point is that if we can introduce a volatile mix to the rezaric acid inside the collar we can maybe blow it off."

"D'Argo frowned. "Blow it off?"

"As Crichton would stay, *kerboom*."

D'Argo did not understand the words but Rygel's expression and the way he moved his hands to mimick an explosion made his expression lighten. "You can really do that?"

"I don't know," Grumbled Rygel. "But I have no intention of sitting here until Chiana's little friends mind clense us."

Chiana shot him a dirty look. "They are *not* my friends."

"I am sure Rygel meant no offence, Chiana." Soothed Zhaan. She was busy going through the contents of her apothecary. "Hmmm, I have some jelifan fire paste but not nearly enough for what you are planning, Rygel."

"What *do* you have, Zhaan?"

She rumaged around then straightened, a strange blue pot in her hands. She handled it as if it were the holy grail. "I have something better."

"Will it do the job?" D'Argo asked.

She looked at the Luxan, a sparkle in her eyes. "Yes. Our only worry D'Argo is that we do not go up with it!"

* * * * *

In his chamber Pilot stirred. A touch of his mind from Moya made him lay still, eyes closed, feigning sleep. The Nebari set to watch over him did not know he was awake. Moya wanted to keep it that way. In unmoving silence Pilot conversed with Moya. His heart quickening with the information flowing at lightspeed through their joined consciousness. He was left stunned and amazed. He had never heard of such a thing. Yet somewhere deep, in the past of a shamed childhood excitement stirred. A chance to balance the forces he had manipulated to get the one thing he wanted above all others. Now it was
time to return that favour. Without moving he acquiessed to Moya. Wonder and awe kept him silent as he listened to the plan. Knowing now why she had withdrawn her consciousness from him. Why she had seemingly given in to the inevitable. As he lay in a stillness that made him inwardly tremble with
surpressed excitement, a smile was hidden from view by the console on which he rested.

Quietly and as unobtrusively as possible, Moya directed her DRDs to the apothecary. Each charged with a very special task.

* * * * *

Crichton was dreaming, he had to be. His body afire but so weak he could not stand unaided. Could not even walk. He had trouble remembering why. Everything was hazy. Nothing was real. Talyn touched him in his dreams, eased the pain and gave him a sense of peace however insubstantial in the real world it made a difference here. Only here kept changing. He was swaying now, as if some breeze were blowing him off course, light as a feather, a giant hand tilting the edge of his reality making him fear that he
would slide off and be lost forever. He felt gentle thoughts reach out to him. <It is time to wake>

<Wake?> His thoughts mumbled. <You mean I'm not awake?>

<No, you are dreaming>

<Why do you want me to wake?>

<You are in danger>

<Oh>

Nothing happened. He did not stir. Talyn began to flush through his system. An unfortunate side effect was the renewal of pain but he would need the pain to rouse him. He twitched violently and a cry moaned out through parched lips. Crais forgot Tahanay and turned his dark head, eyes etched with deep concern. "John?"

Tahanay glided over to the side of the pod bay to see for himself. Crais ignored him and touched a gentle hand to Crichton's cheek. He was cold, so cold. Crais felt emotion well up in him. <God, he's so cold Talyn>

Consciousness returned in a sea of agony. Face drawn and grey with pain, he opened his eyes and tried to focus. Crais hushed him as he cried, stroking his face gently to calm him. He turned to the Builder
angrily. "You did this to him."

<He will live>

"Look what you've done!"

<A sacrifice was made but his ordeal is over now>

"You mean you have what you want."

Tahanay's smile grew very broad. <His contribution will alter the balance in the universe>

"It doesn't need altering."

<How do you think *you* got here?>

Crais looked at him in horror then his face started to darken with deep rage. "How *dare* you!"

Before he could say any more, Crichton was speaking, albeit in a voice that sounded like it had been fashioned out of sandpaper. "What happened?"

"Sssh, it's okay John. We had a few problems."

"Problems? What kind of problems?"

"I'll tell you when you've dressed."

It took some microts to help Crichton out of the pod bay. He was so weak, had lost so much weight. It made Crais want to cry. Tahanay was nowhere in sight when he turned round. Crais hoped he had gone but then he felt the ship shudder violently. "Talyn! What was that?"

Crichton lost his footing and fell to the floor. Crais knelt next to him, helped him to his feet then gently dressed him. The human unable to get any dexterity into his fingers. All his senses still numb. His body
not quite his own. "We have *got* to get you out of here, John." He whispered in Crichton's ear.

"Not without you."

Crais noticed that Crichton was on the verge of passing out. He made him sit down and appealed to Talyn. <Talyn, John is still very weak. I beg you to help him if you can>

Talyn responded by extending a tube towards him. Crais reassured Crichton it was for nourishment only and guided the tube to the side of his neck. Once it had latched on, Talyn flooded him gently with
chemicals and secretions to strengthen him and replace the nutrients he had lost. Then Talyn fed him, helping to restore a sense of lost well being to the fragile human. Crais touched his face, kissed him gently, wanted to hug and hold him but knew they had no time for this. Too many things were happening
to make it safe to lose themselves in the arms of the other. As if understanding, Crichton gently patted Crais's arm. "It's alright Crais. I'll be fine."

Just then both of them were thrown to the floor. The judder of the ship so hard it felt as if they had crashed into something.

"Talyn! What was that?"

<We are under attack!>

"What? Hold on Talyn, I'm on my way!"

* * * * *
END