Title: "AFTERMATH 8: PURSUIT"

Written by Alison M. DOBELL

Fandom: Farscape

Pairing: Crais/Crichton

SUMMARY: "No sooner do Crichton and Crais think they have escaped, than a slow returning nightmare begins to creep up on them."

Rated: 'R'.

SEQUEL to "HOPE".

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

Comments to: AlisonMDobell@aol.com

"AFTERMATH 8: PURSUIT"
A "Farscape" story
Written by Alison M. DOBELL

* * * * *

The Scarran half-breed drew back his lips to reveal the rictus of a death's head smile. At first it looked as if Crais had managed to lose them but an energy signature was a curious thing. As distinctive to his highly advanced tracking system as fingerprints to a forensic scientist. All he had to do was ensure that he guessed the right direction like a dog sniffing the air for the scent of his prey. A smug look crawled over his face, eyes glittering with vengeance and a host of less wholesome emotions. He had told
Crais once that his patience was not infinite. Now he would get to illustrate that fact. First though. First he had to catch up with the young leviathan and that would take time. He did not want to scare him into starbursting before he could afix a new collar. Oh yes, not only would he be able to take his revenge on Crais, he would also be able to continue his 'relationship' with Crichton. There were aspects of the wormhole technology he had extracted from Crichton's brain that were incomplete. Frustration and anger had been building as attempt after attempt had failed. Angry though he was with Crais for switching sides, in the long run he was grateful. Thanks to him he would now get Crichton back and the bonus of a fully operational biomechanoid gunship. He could afford to approach with caution, make sure this time that there would be no chance of escape.

* * * * *

In the vastness of space, Moya's keening cry was like a sonic whale song. The ullulating tone not detectable to the human ear still less the sensiblities of most other species. Aeryn had returned to the Terrace. She was thinking of her Peace Keeper past. All the relationships that had formed part of her life before Moya. Before Crichton. It seemed incomprehensible to her now that the two Aeryns were one and the same. The last cycle had been a nightmare. For the love of Cholok the last cycle had put all of them through more dren that even she could have possibly imagined. At the centre of all that chaos had been Crichton. She sighed. Immeasurably sad. Her heart ached. He had taught her so much. Not just about himself but about herself too. She had loved Velorek after a fashion but did not know what love was. Her commitment to the Peace Keepers so absolute and unquestioning that she could calmly hand him over to Crais as a traitor. It still hurt to think of what she had done but back then she had been a different Aeryn. One whose emotions had been as alien to her as the human was when they had first met. It was ironic that she now felt more at home with Crichton that her own kind. Like Velorek before him, Crichton had told her she could be more. More. More what? More paranoid? More dysfunctional? More nixar? More what? She sighed. She knew what he meant. His words touching something deep inside not because of the words themselves but because of his humanity.
His emotion. His feelings. His compassion.

She looked out at the stars. They were almost as bright and as blinding as those falling from her eyes.

* * * * *

<Crais?>

Crichton felt his presence stir in his mind. Oddly sluggish. Had he been sleeping? Was that even possible in this state? He did not know but he assumed leviathan's slept.

<Yes, John>

<I wanted to thank you>

He felt dark humour seduce his mind. It made him smile. <You have already thanked me. Thanked *us*>

That was true but it was something that bore repeating. He knew now what risks Crais had chanced on his behalf. Knew because this link via Talyn removed so many boundaries. Revealed things to him about Crais that were both painful and gratifying. Emotionally it had been hard to absorb it all without some distress but Talyn had been there, his presence all pervasive. Gentle, soothing, calming, nurturing. He had never felt such a complete immersion in alien thoughts as this. Never felt so vulnerable or safe. As he thought about Talyn he could feel the leviathan's thoughts merge with his own, colouring his emotions with a kind of awe that drew strange, exotic, beautiful pictures in his mind. <What's that?>

<Talyn is showing you his unique view of the universe>

The images were written in coloured light, blending and flowing through his consciousness. Sensations filtering through from the leviathan from his cycle of birth to the joy of first creation and the discovery of a full gamut of emotions that rocked him to his core with their raw beauty and intensity. What Talyn felt he felt. He found himself experiencing things he had no previous grasp of. Things about Talyn's growth, understanding and emotional needs that helped him to make sense of all that had happened in his life up to this point. He felt Crais quietly in the background as Talyn shared this with him, realised how the strength and compassion hidden deep inside Crais had drawn the young leviathan. His mother no longer was the role model he needed. He wanted a father figure and found all that and more in Crais. As Talyn thought of Crais a flood of mingled emotions swamped Crichton, his senses touched and moved by the love and trust and sheer strength of the bond now forged between them. It was as if the Hand of Friendship Crais had accepted from Talyn joined them on every level. A true melding and symbiosis. <Wow!>

<Wow?>

He felt the humour in Crais. The word *wow* meant nothing to him of course, but the sentiment behind his utterance was all too clearly understood thus connected. A thrum from Talyn told him the leviathan shared that sentiment too. If only his Dad could see this, feel this, experience what he was discovering he would be as blown away by it as he was. <Crais?>

<Mmm hmm?>

He felt his presence stroke his mind. Gentle, strong, and thoughtful. It was pleasant, soothing, made him feel so utterly safe. It was starting to make him sleepy, as if he could just drift off. <This is weird, Crais>

<Weird? How>

The touches somehow deepened making him take in a mental breath to steady himself. He was not feeling sleepy any more. <Woah there, Crais. Not so fast>

The sensations slowed. Ripples of thoughts touching memories, soothing the pathway where curious fingers of thought delved, seeking knowledge, trading for understanding. Curious. Careful. Probing their deep descent into his deepest thoughts, feelings and memories, an emotional cornucopia that Crais found so appealing. He could not resist the urge, the need, the desire to explore. And because of his link to Talyn, the leviathan wanted to explore him too. Well that was alright. Fine and dandy but it took getting used to. They would have to go slowly or he was in danger of flipping. Too exotic. Too rich for his human sensibilities. Their presence crawling through his mind and making every nerve in his body tingle and tremble as images fired through his synapses lighting up the walls of his brain and making his body scream with the intensity of sensations they could so
casually spark off with the slightest touch of their minds. Did they even know how powerful they were? How much their combined strength awed him? How easily they could snap his mind with a twist of their thoughts? Or send his body screaming and reeling into oblivion with sensations that would completely wipe his mind of all ability to control himself?

<We would never hurt you> Said Crais softly, his thoughts a warm dark caress in his mind. As Crais gently spoke to him mind to mind, he felt Talyn getting more comfortable. Moving about with a languid grace that showed he could be sensitive too. Attuning himself to what the human could stand and tolerate. Lowering some of his subtle questing to levels that would not alarm or distress him. As the leviathan expolored further he became more adept and Crichton was amazed at how quickly he learned.

<God Crais, what are you guys doing to me?>

<You know what we are doing> Crais soothed. His thoughts now augmenting Talyn's inside Crichton's brain, but deviating from that path so he felt two distinct identities gently probing him. <It is necessary> Crais continued gently. <While we are joined we need to understand how each of us functions. Instinctively be able to operate, to act, as one>

<As one?> He mumbled in his mind. He was trying not to react as Talyn's thoughts brushed into private places where no leviathan ought to go. Especially a youngster like this.

Crais seemed amused. <Yes. Talyn is keeping a watch, he is also trying to get us back to Moya. Not a direct route, you understand. He will not do that unless he is completely sure that we have successfully evaded pursuit>

<Pursuit?>

Talyn had found the place he should not enter. Curious he delved deeper. Crichton almost lost the ability to think as strange exotic sensations crept through his body and sent mirror images of those sensations racing through his mind so that he mentally gasped. He felt Crais gently chide Talyn. Talyn's confusion became his own. He found himself wanting to know why Talyn could look and not touch. But they were Talyn's thoughts not his, though it was becoming harder to seperate them.

<Yes. It is difficult to accurately predict a starburst. To do so you would need to know the destination and this is something our pursuers could not possibly know>

<You mean Scorpius>

Crais paused, feeling Crichton's pain at the mere thought of that abomination. <Yes, Scorpius>

He felt Talyn reach out to soothe him. Ease the pain of a thousand memories, all of them as bright as knives flashing, diving down in cruel arcs to cut him to frelling pieces. Their probing stopped. Crais fell silent. After a few microts a tentative thought caressed Crichton's mind. <I am sorry
>

It took him a moment to respond. <Why?>

<For reminding you>

He sighed. <That's alright, Crais. Can I ask you a favour?>

<Anything>

The ready response no longer surprised him. He no longer questioned Crais' sincerity. <I'm tired...>

He was immediately contrite. <Sleep, John. We will watch over you>

He felt Talyn echo the sentiment and then felt something course through his system, relaxing muscle and mind with a gentle swaying motion of fluids seeking their own seductive level. Better. That felt. Great. Crais cradled his broken mind in his thoughts, allowing Talyn to see the structure of something fragile but stronger than Maddium steel. While Crichton slipped
into a deep sleep he instructed the leviathan. Showing him things about the human now in their care that would have taken Talyn weekens to discover on his own. They let Crichton sleep. Occasionally touching him in his dreams, to let him know he was safe. It was weird. It was exotic. It gave him peace.

* * * * *

The Peace Keeper Command Carrier picked up the faint trail. Scorpius made sure they kept the distant leviathan just within the range of their telemetry but not close enough to trigger any alarms. Far enough out of the wake Talyn left behind him not to be detected. The only way Talyn would spot them would be if the leviathan knew exactly where to look. Scorpius turned to his Captain. "Is the collar ready?"

She nodded. "Yes."

Scorpius looked thoughtful for a moment then stood up. "Instruct the Nebari technicians to join me in the hangar bay. I want to see if the modifications have been carried out to my satisfaction."

* * * * *

He was dreaming. Pain screeching like a runaway truck through every nerve in his body. Mind crashing against images that tore at him raising agonised memories to litter his subconscious. He had to wake up but he could not. Something bound him in darkness. The pain now joined by a rising fear. He could feel something base crawling through him on sharp bug-like legs. He cried out and shuddered violently with reaction, shivering with dread. The images now speeding up, driving him crazy as they touched off emotions he could not circumvent, taking him deeper and deeper into madness. Breath coming in staccato mouthfuls but not enough to inflate labouring lungs. A fish out of water flapping uselessly. Then something else surged slowly
through him trying to steady him. A dark sensual warmth, a cloak of concern easing his tears and calming him just a little. Until even that respite faded and he could not hear, touch, see, smell or taste a thing. Total sensory deprivation was a mere heartbeat away. It was called Death.

Bialar Crais swore, his concern for the human echoed in Talyn. <What happened?>

Talyn was confused and no less concerned than Crais. Talyn tried to reassure the human, to flood him with the leviathan equivalent of endomorphins. Talyn slowed his speed, wanting to come to a stop and concentrate on stabilising his condition. Crais did not agree. However bad things were, they could always get worse. Scorpius was out there looking for them. They would do Crichton no good if they got themselves caught. Reluctantly Talyn agreed and started to increase his speed again. For no good reason other than what Crichton would have called gut instinct, Crais ordered Talyn to go to starburst. When Talyn wanted to know the course to set he told him to make it as random as possible. Only when they had come out of starburst did Crais speak again. <Release me, Talyn. I can do no more with this linkage>

Talyn released the connectors, the tubes snaking away from him, their seals broken. He paused a microt before levering himself up into a sitting position. He could now see over the lip of the pod bay. Crichton was pale, perspiration beading his skin. Eyes closed he moved weakly, shuddering as if in great pain. Crais knew, he had shared it. He climbed off the pod bay and went to him, placed a hand on his shoulder and closed his eyes, trying to work out what was wrong. He felt fleeting thoughts brush against his questing mind as if being carried along by a strong and turbulent current, defying all attempts for him to grasp them and give the human any echo of comfort.

<Crais....can't breathe.....>

Crais did not know what to do. <Tell me how to help you, John>

It took ages for the request to reach him, though it was only seconds. < You have to breathe for me>

He frowned. <How do I do that?>

Crichton shuddered. More violently this time. His colour was not good. <Your breath in my mouth....C..can't hold on...>

Panic seized Crais. In that second he got a brief flash from Crichton. Even in his agony he was trying to instruct Crais. Images of mouth to mouth resusitation with one sentiment urged on a vanishing heartbeat. <Hurry...>

Crais nodded, took a deep breath then lowered his lips to Crichton's. With all the power he could muster he breathed deep and steadily, emptying his breath into the human. He eased back and watched but Crichton seemed no better. He took another deep breath and repeated the procedure, getting more comfortable with the strange intimacy of saving a life. It was so much more
personal than giving military aid or shielding someone from danger. He was giving something of himself. Literally the breath of life. So seldom did he have recourse to touch another being. Even so the effort was tiring as he had to continue for a good quarter of an arn before he could be sure Crichton was able to breathe unaided. He watched concerned. Saw the human's chest rise and fall eratically at first then start to settle into a regular breathing pattern. Colour was starting to return to his face. Crais touched him gently, his hand stroking his cheek while he tried to find out what had happened.

<Scorpius>

That single name jolted him. <Scorpius? How?>

Crichton seemed to struggle to find the words. Crais continued to stroke his cheek, silently willing him to keep trying. He needed to know. He could feel Talyn carrying nutrients through Crichton's body and using his own leviathan secretions to dull the pain for him. As the pain receded so did some of the panic. <The chip, Crais>

<Yes, John, but he took that. Remember? He has no hold on you now> Crais stroked his hair. <You're safe> His thoughts murmured soothingly.

The human shook his head weakly. He still had not opened his eyes. <No Crais, you're wrong. *We're* wrong>

He frowned. <Wrong? How?> He felt the sigh and his heart ached. Why did he feel so much for this human? Why did he suddenly feel so protective? As if the human had become precious to him.

<The chip, the one with the wormhole technology?> Crais nodded and watched Crichton's face for any sign that he was in distress. <That wasn't the only chip he put inside my head>

Crais froze. <You mean there's another one in there?>

<Yeah. Life's a bitch and then you die>

His heart skipped a beat. An almost physical pain. <You are dying?>

He felt Crichton's soft laughter dance in his mind for a microt. It was a gentle self mocking sensation that he was coming to identify more and more as the signature of this unique being. <No, it's an Earth expression. Kind of like the manic depressive's idea of life on a good day>

Crais shook his head and smiled gently at him. <You have lost me, John>

His eyes fluttered open. Hazy blue pools locked on to the dark liquid ones staring down at him. Crais's hand stilled against his cheek and for several microts neither moved a muscle. So much was written in Crichton's eyes it amazed him. Used to a lifetime of hiding his thoughts, masking his emotions and fighting his fears, it was cathartic to find someone this open, this revealing. Not only did Crichton teach him about human sensibilities and frailties, he also held a mirror up to his own. <This other chip?> He reminded him gently.

<Oh yeah> Crichton closed his eyes a microt and trembled. When he opened them again it was to see concern in Crais's eyes. <I felt it activate in my head, Crais. Like some bug sticking its' sharp sticky little claws into my brain and crawling around where the sun don't shine>

Crais was frowning, more concerned than ever. <Then we will have to remove it>

Crichton was looking intently at him, his look gentle, like a father preparing his son for bad news. Why did the human make him think that? <Not possible, Crais. It's directly wired deep inside my brain. Can't remove it without turning me into a salad>

<Salad?>

Again that odd humour. Gentle, sad, self deprecating. It was forming cracks in Crais's iron-clad heart.

<Sorry. Earth humour. Salad, vegetables you know? If a person loses their mental abilities and becomes little more than comotose we say they are in a vegetative state. Being likened to a vegetable is a way of saying the lights are on but nobody's home>

Crais shook his head, not understanding a word he was thinking but picking up a sense of the meaning from his emotions. The sense of loss. Helplessness. <What can we do?>

<I don't know that there is anything we can do, buddy>

Crais was quiet for a while. His thoughts shielded from Crichton as he discussed something with Talyn. At last he spoke. His thoughts slow and measured as if he was walking down a long corridor and unsure what he would find waiting for him at every step. <There may be a way>

He felt a tendril of hope in Crichton. <How?>

<Talyn may be able to help>

Crichton reached out to Talyn with his thoughts, felt the leviathan touch him with concern and something akin to affection. The leviathan's thoughts cradled him, bathed him in a calming soothing sensation that he only belatedly realised were more secretions. Taking his will and coaxing him to give it up. Give himself up to the leviathan's care. The urge to comply irresistable. <Why?> He murmured. No longer concerned just curious.

He felt Crais join with Talyn and caress his thoughts so gently, lulling him into a confidence he did not feel. What were they doing? Why did they want him to sleep? He felt Crais correct him gently. <Not sleep. We need you awake but do not want to hurt you>

<This's gonna hurt?>

<Yes>

He thought about that but his thoughts did not seem to be connected any more. Odd. Worried. He had been worried? He did not know. Drifting but anchored on a very long lifeline. It was thin and silvery. Made him think of the umbical chord. Then he was hearing the Moody Blues inside his head. What were they singing? Oh yeah, he remembered now. The Lost Chord. Started to hum it in his head. Happy that he still remembered most of the words. He loved the Moody Blues. One of his Dad's favourites. Then something thick and sluggish began to crawl inside his brain. Setting off sensations that interrupted his fragmented thoughts leaving him confused and reacting belatedly to the aftershocks of pain. His body jerked and spasmed
in the pod bay, Crais's hand on his shoulder to anchor him. They delved deeper, the intrusion becoming more concise as they looked for the chip Scorpius had buried in his brain.

<Won't find it> Crichton mumbled as the pain level began to rise. Then they touched something and his body screamed. Every part of him shutting down with agony as the whole damn universe turned to black.

end