By Andie O'Neill
Summary: A coin toss, fate took away the woman he loved, and a wormhole swallowed up his friends, but although saved by an aged Leviathan, John Crichton is for a time lost, as dead as his 'other self' in a world with nothing left but wormholes.
A/N: I know it's pretty sad, but then again… that was Farscape! This is my first Farscape fic so take it easy on me!
Fate took the woman he loved, a stupid coin toss he never should have though of. And not long after that a wormhole swallowed up his friends, taking them to who knew where. He was alone in a universe that had done nothing but screw him over more than once, and that he knew would try to again unless he found a way home.
Home was all he had now. Aeryn was gone… his paradise, his home, his dream. In some ways he'd been so focused on the 'forbidden fruit', Earth that he'd not realized the amazing thing he'd had. She'd been the thing carrying along his hopes and dreams… even when his 'twin' had taken her away on Talyn for a time. He'd always hoped she'd come back to him, that he'd see her again. Now not even that was possible… Aeryn wanted him to go home to Earth, but that wasn't really home anymore. He couldn't mix Aeryn and Earth together, it would never work, so he'd been forced by a crazy old lady to choose between the two, he'd chosen Aeryn, but now that choice was gone right along with her.
Crichton swallowed more wine, hoping it would numb him as it always did. He wanted to be numb, needed to stop feeling… to pass out into oblivion and never return. There was no home now. All that was left was a planet he'd once known, a planet he was suppose to return to, wanted to return to, but not enough. John had tried to keep going. If Aeryn wanted nothing more to do with him, at least he knew he had family on Earth, family to get him through, something normal in a universe gone mad. At least then he'd have something, even if it wasn't enough, never would be enough… at least it gave him purpose when otherwise he'd have none.
So many equations rolled around in his head, whispers of wormholes, of time, of space. They slipped out slowly, guiding him, pushing him, moving him in the right direction. He had nothing left. And so he kept writing, on his body, on walls, on storage equipment, anything he could get his hands on… anything. His paradise was lost, all he had was this, equations.
And so he kept going, drinking to numb the pain, and writing to keep her from his mind, from his heart. Part of him hoped he'd see her again, part of him knew he would not. He'd lost her a long time ago, months ago, and he knew he might never get her back. He'd been kicked out of Paradise a long time ago. And so he kept working. That was all he could do. She was gone, lost, and now so was he. He wasn't the man he'd been when he came to the galaxy, to Aeryn's galaxy. He'd been so innocent then. That man had once had hopes and dreams; he'd had an unreachable home waiting for him, but hadn't been ready to give up. He would see Earth again, no matter what. But somehow, all that had changed. He wasn't exactly sure how it had happened, how his priorities had changed, but he knew they had. He was not the man he had been, and now John feared he never would be again.
That John had once been able to see everyday as a chance to find what he longed for most. That John had known in his heart that he would survive each struggle, hoping for a better tomorrow. Then that John had been hunted by Crais, tortured by Scorpius, implanted with a neural clone, twined, pushed away, stomped on, betrayed, and killed till there was nothing left of the John he'd been. He'd seen too many die, including himself along the way. Zhaan was gone, Aeryn had left him, his twin was dead, and John himself had killed far more than he'd care to put a number to. No, he was not the same man, and he never would be that again.
Life had beaten him down, and now he had finally had enough. Taking another drink of his wine he swallowed the burning liquid and fallen back as he realized he was drunk. That was good. Closing his eyes he imagined her face, her smile, her eyes, her lips, her touch. She lay by the beach, her stomach growing bigger with each dream.
"Why here all of the sudden?" Harvey asked him as he walked along side him on the beach.
John just ignored him, looking over at Aeryn as she sat reading her book.
"Why you choose to waste your time here is indeed beyond me, but then again, I can't say I blame you!" said Harvey as he stared at a female walking in a bikini passed them. "It's almost like paradise, don't you think?"
John finally looked over at him, taking in this new dream. "No Harvey… not paradise… not even close."
Harvey frowned. "You should let her go, John… she's never coming back. Why you insist on torturing yourself is beyond me!"
Crichton rolled his eyes, walking toward Aeryn. "Go away Harvey."
"Fine! Talk to Aeryn, torture yourself! See if I care! You say paradise is lost, John, but it's you who are lost!"
Out of everything he'd heard Harvey say, that shook him the most, making him pause just a few yards from her. Maybe he was right… or maybe by losing Aeryn he'd lost himself along the way. Either way, it didn't matter anymore. Slowly he reached Aeryn and sat beside her, hoping to find the answers he'd never been given when she left. "Why?"
Aeryn looked up from her book and sighed. "John, it doesn't matter where you go, or how many times you ask me… the answer will always be the same."
"He was so lucky," John whispered.
Aeryn looked up at him in confusion.
"The other Crichton… he was a lucky guy," he told her.
"Obviously not… he died."
"He died knowing you love him… died in your arms with you there to comfort him and just be there with him. He died being with you… somehow I don't think I'll ever be that lucky."
"At least you're still alive," she muttered, sadness in her voice.
John sighed. "Am I?" he asked her, staring at her as she lay in the sand, the waves crashing at a distance.
After a few more minutes of silence he removed himself from the dream, the fantasy he'd never have and got to his feet, finding himself back on the aging leviathan destined for death… much like himself if he didn't figure out how to save himself. The other John Crichton gained a companion, a lover, someone he could share himself with, and he'd lost all of that in one fell swoop… all thanks to fate.
Finally John got back to his work, the only thing that came easy to him anymore. Perhaps he just wasn't meant to live a happy life. Like Adam himself, he'd lost his paradise a long time ago. The fact was… he might never get it back. But even still, John held to the small glimmer of hope hiding in his heart, the one little part of him that told him he'd make it okay, they'd all make it okay. John just had to 'hope' she was right about all that. It was true, he'd lost his paradise, his peace the moment she walked out of his life, but then again, sometimes not everything is forever. At this point, he could only hope. Hope had kept him alive for far longer than it should, perhaps it would keep him alive now too. Then maybe, just maybe if fate wasn't done with him… he'd see her again. Paradise may have been lost, but at least it wasn't destroyed…. Maybe one day he'd find his paradise again.
A/N: It's a pretty sad story… I know, but I couldn't help myself.