TITLE: "THE CALL OF BLOOD"

AUTHOR: Alison M. DOBELL

FANDOM: "Farscape"

PAIRING: John/d'Argo

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.


"THE CALL OF BLOOD"
Written by Alison M. DOBELL
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Zhaan was ready. As ready as she would ever be. Everybody aboard Moya was subdued, anxious. Hiding their anxiety and concern behind a wall of silence. A prayer of tears. Zhaan prayed constantly for the Goddess to protect Crichton and the baby. Putting all her hopes in Kah'leen and
not daring to think of the alternative. Every soul on board Moya was hurting. The others had asked if Moya would allow a DRD to be present so that the rest of the crew could watch the operation. Zhaan had first asked for Crichton's permission then agreed. Chiana pleaded to be allowed to help her in what was now the delivery room. The Delvian hesitated. Chiana was not a
child but so often her movements, her actions, were younger than her years. It took an effort to remember this was an old soul looking back at her not a young one. Chiana had already known her share of grief. Zhaan nodded. "Thank you, Chiana. I would like that."

"I just want to help."

Aeryn had managed a few microts alone with Crichton before Zhaan was ready to administer a herbal anaesthetic. She did not want to knock him out completely, was not sure that was the right thing to do in this instance. This was new ground for all of them and Zhaan wanted to be able to
judge Crichton's reaction down to the cellular level. Everything from a faint twinge to deep agony, she wanted to chart it all in her mind so that she could tell exactly what was going on inside him as she cut him. Moya and Pilot would be monitoring his vital signs leaving her free to do the rest. Hesitantly, D'Argo asked to speak to Zhaan before she started. She felt impatient. Time was slipping away from them and she did not know how much of it Crichton had left. "What is it, D'Argo?"

He ignored the sharpness of her tone. "Zhaan, my secretions can produce a powerful pain relieving gel. I believe it will be of benefit to John and the baby. It is the kind of deep anaesthetic that will numb him to pain without causing him to lose consciousness."

Zhaan looked at him for a microt. "How do you know..." Her voice trailed off as understanding dawned.

"Yes," Said D'Argo, not looking at Chiana. "I have used it before." His voice was low, gentle. "I will not hurt him, Zhaan."

She met his eyes and looked at Chiana. Chiana forced herself to look at D'Argo. To push passed her own hurt and anger and think only of what would help Crichton. "Okay, if it helps."

He nodded. Relieved. "Good. Chiana, I will produce the secretions if you can give them to Zhaan."

Zhaan nodded and took them over to where Crichton lay. He was surprised to see D'Argo and Chiana if not on friendly terms, at least together. It brought a smile to his tired lips. Glad that something good might come out of this. The smile made Chiana want to cry. She bit her lip. "We're gonna help."

"I know, Chi. Thanks."

She turned her face away so he would not see her tears. D'Argo smiled gently at Crichton, a hand reaching out to touch his face. "Zhaan has agreed to let me use my secretions to help. We already know it will numb you to the pain."

"Thanks, D'Argo."

The Luxan nodded and moved away. He and Chiana sat on a couple of chairs several feet away and out of Crichton's line of sight. Zhaan handed Chiana one of her glass jars and a spilok, a kind of glass rod with a flattened end for gathering the secretions. She looked at D'Argo. "Are you sure you would not be more comfortable lying down, D'Argo?"

He shook his head. "This will be fine, Zhaan."

The Luxan undid his shirt, Chiana helping with the fastenings. Neither of them making eye contact when it could be avoided. She helped him out of his breeches and he sat down again. Chiana picked up the glass jar and spilok and looked at him. He concentrated a microt then nodded to her, she leaned forward, his scent reminded her of so many times when they had
made love. The intimacy of all that they had shared making her heart ache. Only her determination to carry this out stopped her turning around and walking out there and then. She steeled herself and rubbed his mivonks to stimulate the secretion. He closed his eyes and let the gel flow. Chiana almost filled the little jar. Without looking at D'Argo she handed it to Zhaan.
For a moment she looked undecided. D'Argo made himself respectable and joined her.

"Zhaan, John will need the area of the incision to be numbed but also some of the gel needs to be inserted into the navel passage."

He saw Crichton flinch. <Man, that's gonna hurt. Why the hell did everything that was supposed to be good for you have to hurt, or smell like dren or look like a Wakket hole stuffed with horse shit?>

D'Argo glanced at the little DRD sitting on one of Zhaan's little tables by the head of Crichton's bed. It was the one with the blue tape round his light stalk. The one Crichton sometimes called Santa's Little Helper, though the reference was even more puzzling to D'Argo than the usual
nonsense that flowed out of his friend's mouth. But right now, Santa's Little Helper was not helping. "Zhaan, can you please ask Pilot to turn the DRD off for a few microts."

She looked at him, a frown forming. "Why?"

He sighed. She thought about that as she looked at him then raised her head. "Pilot?"

"Yes, Zhaan?"

"Please could you ask Moya to switch off the DRD for a few microts? I will let you know when to reactivate it."

Pilot hesitated. Concerned. "Is something wrong, Zhaan?"

"No, nothing's wrong Pilot. We just need a little privacy."

Back in command, the crew were clustered around the monitor. Aeryn looked pissed off. "What do they need privacy for?"

No one answered her. Even if they had a clue they would not have dared.

Meanwhile the little DRD was gently powered down and his eyestalks drooped. Crichton looked at them. "Hey, what's with the decommisioning of Blue? What did the little guy do wrong this time?"

"Nothing, John." She turned back to D'Argo.

He lowered his voice. Chiana leaned in so she could hear. "The gel can be inserted a number of ways, Zhaan, but the least painful is if I do it."

"You?"

He looked embarrassed. His reaction alerted Chiana to his meaning. "Oh no you don't! Wasn't once enough for you?"

"You don't understand. I do not wish to have sex with him, Chiana, I wish to numb the passage and the interior wall of his stomach. With my tongue I can get right inside and touch the baby, allow him to be gently anaethetised also." He paused, speaking carefully. "I do not want to cause
either John or the baby distress."

Crichton could not hear what they were saying. "Hey guys, what's going on?"

Zhaan looked at D'Argo. "Your idea is sound D'Argo but the memories you may arouse when you penetrate him again will not be happy ones."

He nodded. "I know, that is why if you agree I will ask for his permission first."

They looked at each other. At last Zhaan nodded and went up to Crichton. He looked at her quizzically, wondering why she was hesitant, why D'Argo looked embarrassed and a little afraid. And why Chiana looked as if she wanted to kill D'Argo. "So what is it? My medical insurance doesn't cover this, does it?"

D'Argo took a breath. "John. You need to be anaethetised but not enough that you will lose consciousness. You also need the pain relieving gel that I can produce. Zhaan has the herbs that will do the job but no one knows the exact amount that would numb you sufficiently and not harm the baby."

"So what? You're gonna use your gel stuff?"

He nodded. "Only if you agree."

He looked at each face in turn. "Why the long faces? That's good, right?"

Zhaan put a hand on his shoulder. "It's very good John. There is no problem for us to use the gel on your stomach, to numb it so I can make the incission. We will have to keep adding more gel as I cut, as I go deeper. That is not what D'Argo is concerned about. We also need to anaethetise and
numb the inside - where the baby is."

He was not sure he was hearing this right. "Zhaan, tell me you're not saying what I think you're saying?"

D'Argo explained. "The most efficient way, John, is for me to secret the gel from my tongue as I penetrate your navel. It is the only way to get right inside and introduce the gel to the baby."

"You have *got* to be kidding! I am *not* going to let you do that to me again. No way, Jose! That train has already left the station and look what happened. It crashed."

They looked at each other, confused by his words but understanding his emotion. No meant no in any language. Zhaan nodded. Her voice gentle, low, soothing. "If that is what you decide John it will be respected. But you should know that if you refuse to have the gel inserted I will use the herbs but I will only be able to use them outside your body. I cannot risk getting the amount wrong and harming the baby." She paused. "It means the baby will feel everything."

His face registered shock. He looked sick. Did this nightmare never end? D'Argo was looking anxiously at him, seeing tears form in Crichton's eyes. "I am sorry, John. If there was another way...."

His voice trailed off. Crichton looked at Chiana. The only one of his shop soiled guardian angels who had not spoken. "What do you say, Pip? Should I take the money or open the box?"

She bit back tears. "Hey. What do I know? All I know is the baby comes first. Why should the baby suffer more than he has to, you know?"

He nodded slowly, agreeing with her. He looked at Zhaan then D'Argo. His look empty, resigned. "Then do what you have to do."

They exchanged a glance and watched as Crichton shut his eyes. If they were going to do this he wanted them to get on with it. But it did not mean he had to watch. Zhaan nodded to D'Argo. He looked at Chiana. "Are you sure you don't want to wait outside until this is over?" He asked softly.

She shook her head, adamant. He nodded. D'Argo folded back the sheet that was the only thing covering Crichton. He looked at his face and then looked down at his naked body, a hand reaching out to gently stroke his swollen stomach. His other hand joining the first to get Crichton
used to the sensation of someone touching him before he began. "This will initially be painful, John. I know you are still sore. I apologise for that, but once the secretion starts to take effect you won't feel any more pain."

Crichton said nothing. He was trembling with emotion. Zhaan put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. D'Argo continued to stroke him, massaging his distended stomach, his touch so gentle, his look so caring that Chiana could not take her eyes off him. He seemed to have forgotten that she and Zhaan were there. For D'Argo there was only Crichton. Crichton and
the baby. His son. He flicked out his tongue and began to tease the entry to his navel, the sensitive head of his tongue licking and lubricating the navel as he teased the angular head inside. He felt Crichton jerk a little beneath his hand, looked up to his face to see a tear roll slowly down his cheek. He did not make a sound. D'Argo almost stopped then and there, his hearts faltering. Knowing the emotional pain he was causing his friend might never be healed. But there was the baby to consider and Crichton had agreed. He tried to be as gentle as possible, not flicking his tongue at speed deep inside as he had once done, knowing the channel was too raw.

He worked slowly so that he was releasing the gel all the way as he penetrated the channel, seeking to soothe the pain as he was inflicting it. The head writhed deeper and deeper, Crichton shuddering. Then the head broke through making him gasp as D'Argo inserted more of his tongue's incredible length to allow him to seek out the child nestled within. Crichton's mouth
dropped open feeling the intrusion, the head of the tongue rising up deep inside him as it felt for the new life pulsating inside. The tiny form curled into a protective circle within the birth sac. He was perspiring heavily. Trembling and jerking in little spasms in time to the movements of D'Argo's questing tongue. Zhaan stroked his fevered forehead gently, murmuring softly. D'Argo found the baby and gently wrapped the end of his tongue around it. Wished he could just retract his tongue and bring the baby out with it but the hole was far too small. He released more gel and
coated the tiny infant with such care, such love, that Chiana could not take her eyes off his face. He seemed to be oblivious to everything else. Only when he was satisfied that he had protected his son all he could did he start to reluctantly retract his tongue. Crichton shivered and shook as the length of it withdrew, the shiver running up his spine and snapping his eyes open. D'Argo kept his hands on Crichton's stomach, he was smiling gently. Pleased.

"The baby is fine, John."

Crichton did not say anything. Too many emotions in him for his words to do justice to but Zhaan saw it all in his eyes and rested her head against his in understanding. D'Argo looked at Chiana. "Pass me the gel please, Chiana."

Chiana looked at Zhaan. Zhaan nodded and straightened up. D'Argo took the pot from Chiana and carefully started to rub in the gel making sure he worked it in all over his swollen stomach. Zhaan spoke softly to Crichton, telling him that she would operate now. Telling him he was in safe hands, that the baby was well, and they would do all they could for them both. He nodded. Grateful to her for her care, her love, her determination. He just could not say anything. She understood. She kissed his forehead gently before moving to join D'Argo. She noticed he had emptied most of the pot. "Chiana. Help D'Argo refill the pot please."

She nodded. This time they stayed where they were not affecting any false modesty. D'Argo continued massaging Crichton, deciding to use the last of the gel as Chiana was going to be drawing more off from him anyway. He did not want his friend to feel any more pain than could be avoided. Chiana undid his clothing to get access to his mivonks and found she did not need to
stimulate them this time. She looked up at his face but this time he did not look away. No longer embarrassed, proud to be able to love two people at the same time. That look of quiet pride and joy touched something in Chiana. She filled the jar again. D'Argo stepped back and fastened himself up. Letting Zhaan move close to Crichton. She held the knife in her right hand, muttering a last prayer to Kah'leen. When the prayer ended she tilted her head for a moment. "Pilot?"

"Yes, Zhaan?"

"You may allow Moya to reactivate the DRD. I am about to begin operating."

"Good luck, Zhaan."

"Thank you, Pilot."

The little DRD hummed to life, lifted his eyestalks and turned them on Crichton. He felt dazed but no longer in pain. Sensations were weird though. He felt like he was flooding inside, reminding him of when D'Argo had taken him that first time. The pain of that memory coming back to him. He told himself he had to think of the baby. The baby. D'Argo and Chiana's. The baby. Almost his. The baby. Whose life now rested in three pairs of frightened hands and one unlikely reluctant host. He felt something pushing up inside him screaming at him. He bit back a groan of agony and closed his eyes as it pushed up against his internal organs radiating pain where the gel could not reach. It felt like he was tearing, as if he had been split down the middle and was about to be ripped apart. Torn assunder. <Hell, Zhaan, get it out, get it out! I can't stand it> He was soaked with perspiration, his breathing becoming laboured. He tried to calm down his
heartrate, tried to concentrate on regulating his breathing. To make it easier for the baby. <Oh God, if I die let the baby survive. Don't let this be for nothing>

Zhaan was beginning to panic. There was so much blood and it had been harder to locate the baby than she had expected. Whether by accident or some deep sense of self preservation, the foetus had somehow managed to retract and worm its' way higher up between Crichton's internal organs making it hard for her to extract him. There was blood everywhere. Chiana was crying, D'Argo was swearing softly. They were losing the baby. Losing Crichton. D'Argo threw back his head and yelled, "Help us! We are losing them!"

Pilot was distraught. The others looked on in horror then followed Aeryn as she ran out of the room to get to the apothecary as fast as her legs would carry her. She did not know what she could do but the one thing she could not do was calmly watch on a monitor as Crichton died. Frell the baby. Frell them all. If he died D'Argo would die before Crichton's body had a chance to grow cold. She swore it. On her oath as a former Peace Keeper. On her life and on her honour. The only thing preventing her rage from overwhelming her was the fear. Utter, total and desperate it was nothing compared to the total terror that filled her mind, body and soul when she ran into that room. Her feet sliding on the slick bloody floor. Eyes wide with fear and grief. Tears like hot acid burning her cheeks. Chiana's wails in her ears, D'Argo bellowing as all hell broke loose around her...

* * * * *
END