Title: All or Nothing

Author: Candytop (kandie@tinyonline.co.uk)

Website: none

Rating: NC-17

Pairing / Main characters: John/D'Argo, John/Other

Series/Sequel: complete

Summary: Rescuing a group of stranded Luxans turns out to be a BIG mistake...

Disclaimer: Farscape and the characters (with the exception of Matrop, and who'd want him ?) are the property of the Jim Henson Company and the Sci-fi Channel. No infringement of copyright or trademark is intended. The story idea remains the property of the author. Any similarity of characters to persons living or dead is coincidental.

Warning: Contains m/m sexual activity. Rape/non-consensual, lots of angst.

Notes: Takes place in Aiobheann's wonderful "Blood Brothers" universe. Should really read that first for this to make any sense to you.

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All or Nothing

By Candytop

 

Crichton tossed fitfully in his sleep, the blankets becoming tangled in his legs. His eyes moved rapidly under their lids and sweat poured down his face. Abruptly his eyes flew open, the scream still echoing in his mind, although it did not make it past his lips. He reached out wildly, reassuring himself that he was alone and let out a deep shuddering sigh when he was sure.

Crichton kicked off the stifling sheets and padded over to the bathroom. He ran the cold water, enjoying its chill on his hot skin before splashing it on his face. He glanced up and took a deep breath when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. His eyes were sunken, deep purple shadows underlining them. Most of the bruises were fading but he knew he would have a small scar high up on the cheek bone from where that bastard had cut him. His gaze passed over his chest -- he'd definitely lost some weight over the last three weeks, not surprising since his appetite was almost completely gone. He raised his wrists. Most of the scabs had fallen off revealing the new, pink skin. So, his body was healing, more or less, but what about his mind?

He looked over at a small blue bottle resting by the sink. Zhaan had prepared it for him if he had trouble sleeping, and it was almost empty. He picked up the bottle and turned it over in his hands. Surely by now he should be able to sleep without Zhaan's remedies. It had been three weeks since ... it had happened. He should be stronger than this. He was stronger than this. He was not going to let these dreams stop him. In a fit of anger, he threw the bottle against the wall where it shattered, leaving a small flower of blue liquid that ran and dripped.

Determinedly he got dressed. A few laps around Moya would tire him out, that would be a better way to get some sleep. There was no way he was going to become dependent on any potion.

***

D'Argo moved the Qualta blade slowly through the air following the ancient training patterns of the Luxan warriors. Suddenly he whirled and hacked at the training dummy behind him, imagining it was Matrop standing before him again.

A deep, angry growl escaped from his throat as he circled and slashed at the dummy as if it was fighting back. Matrop. Matrop who had thanked them for saving his ship and his crew, and then decided that he wanted more. Matrop who had taunted him that he could not protect his ship or his friends, who had made them all listen in their cell as he had beaten and raped John. No, killing him once was not enough, D'Argo wanted to kill him over and over again.

Deep in his heart D'Argo knew that the treacherous Luxan had been right. He had failed, he had failed them all. He had allowed his ship to be threatened, had seen his crewmates captured, and John ... he had failed John most of all. They had sworn the oath, they were allies, comrades, they were supposed to protect each other, and D'Argo had broken that oath.

He tried to block the image, but it came to the front of his mind. When he had finally dispatched Matrop and found John. Bleeding from his injuries, pain etched on his face even in unconsciousness. D'Argo had thought he was too late, that Matrop had killed his love.

With a bellowing roar of rage D'Argo sliced into the dummy's neck. The head fell to the mat with a dull smack. D'Argo gazed at it as it came to rest at his feet. How could he have let this happen? How could he even look at John, knowing how deeply he had let him down? How could John ever trust him again?

He kicked the dummy's head away from him and pushed the rest of its body over. "Pilot, I need another dummy."

A panel slid open in the wall of the training room and D'Argo stalked over.

"This is the last one, D'Argo." Pilot's voice cautioned him.

"Then we'd better get some more," growled D'Argo.

***

"Am I disturbing you?"

Zhaan looked up from the paste she was preparing. "Aeryn! Of course not. Come in."

Aeryn stepped into the room and sat down on the bench. Zhaan noted the troubled eyes with concern. "Not sleeping well, Aeryn?"

"Not recently." sighed Aeryn. "But that's not why I came here."

"What is it ?" asked Zhaan gently.

"John came to see me today. He wanted to ask a favour."

"What kind of favour?"

"He wants me to teach him Peacekeeper un-armed combat tactics."

"I see."

"I mean, that's good, isn't it?" said Aeryn, a shade desperately. "I've been saying he should have some self-defence training since he came on board. I even tried to teach him some before, but it didn't sink in ..." her voice trailed off.

"All the training in the universe could not have prevented what happened." said Zhaan quietly.

Aeryn looked at her gratefully. "But does John see that?"

"I don't know," said Zhaan. "He doesn't blame us, I think he blames himself."

"That's ridiculous!" cried Aeryn. "He couldn't have stopped it."

"I know that, you know that, but John ... well John can't accept that."

"Neither can D'Argo."

Zhaan sighed, "Has he spoken to John?"

Aeryn shook her head, "I don't think so."

It was Zhaan's turn to shake her head, "Each of them is blaming himself for something that no one could foresee and no one could have prevented. We were all unprepared." She straightened her shoulders, "I think you should teach him, Aeryn. You're right, he does need to be able to protect himself, but try and teach him that sometimes it's not enough. Sometimes there is nothing you can do. John is our heart, our conscience. If he is bitter and angry and afraid, we will be too."

"And time, they both need time."

"They need time together, not apart." Zhaan corrected.

Aeryn nodded. "We'll have to see what we can do." she said as she left.

***

Rygel paused with a food cube half way to his mouth as he heard the rhythmic pounding of feet. A few moments later Crichton swept past the door, his face red and breathing harshly from his exertions. Rygel twitched his whiskers as the sound of Crichton's footsteps faded around the corner. That was the third time in half an arn that the human had passed by the galley, if he kept this up he'd probably die of a heart attack. "Maybe that's what he wants." thought Rygel. He knew if it had been him that had suffered what the human had suffered he'd have hoped that he would not survive the ordeal.

He had been forced to listen to Matrop demanding that Crichton tell them what was being done to him. Crichton had never said a word. He remembered them all herded together in one cell, arms fixed behind them, his hover sled smashed and useless, Aeryn struggling desperately to free herself, Zhaan with tears running freely down her face, and D'Argo -- D'Argo had sat cross-legged on the floor, his eyes closed, his muscles bulging, breathing deeply. And then Crichton had spoken, they had all heard the pain and exhaustion in his voice when he said that Matrop was no warrior, he was a coward. Matrop's cry of rage had almost covered D'Argo's cry as he finally broke the bonds around his wrists. Their guards had come rushing in when they saw that D'Argo was free. It was the last mistake they made. Rygel had never seen two Luxans dispatched with such ruthless, clinical efficiency.

D'Argo had freed him first and ordered him to free the others before rushing out. He had done as he was told. They all knew where D'Argo had gone, but there were still three Luxans aboard. Zhaan and Aeryn had gone to take care of them. And Rygel was left to get out of that room, away from the sounds as fast as he could. He had hoped that D'Argo would reach them soon.

Rygel dropped the half-eaten cube and pushed the plate away from him. His late-night snack suddenly seemed a lot less appetising.

***

Pilot watched in concern as Crichton flitted from one monitor to the next. He'd been running for an arn and looked ready to drop. Pilot willed him to stop before he hurt himself.

Pilot sighed and thought for the thousandth time that he wished there was something he could do. He had not been much help to the crew or John Crichton when the Luxans had been brought aboard. If he had legs, Pilot would be kicking himself. He should have known there was a problem as soon as the security monitors had started flickering. Before he knew what was happening he was blind, deaf and dumb, trapped in his chamber, unable to call for help or warn the crew.

Then Matrop had come to him, gloating that he had a Leviathan in his possession and ensuring Pilot's and Moya's co-operation by poisoning Moya's baby and withholding the antidote.

Pilot shuddered. Would the crew ever forgive him? They had said they understood. They had told him that he was right to protect the child. But was it just his imagination, or did they talk to him less?

Well, he could not change what he had done, but perhaps he could make amends. Quickly he sent a command to the nearest DRD to Crichton's position.

***

Running was not working. Yes he was exhausted, but his mind was replaying the scenes over and over again and he seemed powerless to stop them.

He remembered waking in D'Argo's quarters, his wrists fixed firmly above his head and that bastard Matrop looking down at him, smiling.

He remembered Matrop ordering Pilot to open up a link to the others if he wanted Moya's baby to be given the antidote to the poison running through it, and telling the Luxan he was the lowest piece of scum to threaten an unborn child.

Matrop had laughed. He had done a lot of laughing.

He remembered kicking out at the big Luxan, straining against his bonds, but the alien kept coming, so amused at his attempts to free himself, to fight back. And then he was on him, tearing at his clothes, beating him with his own belt, ordering him to speak, to let his friends know exactly what was happening ...

Crichton ran on, the route being followed subconsciously.

He had not given Matrop the satisfaction of hearing him scream, although that had only enraged him further. Matrop had raped him, over and over, thrusting into him solely to cause pain.

Crichton's face creased as he remembered all the pleasure he and D'Argo had shared. He'd never have that again. Matrop had destroyed it all. And anyway, why would D'Argo want him any more, he was tainted, sullied, unclean. He'd lost the one thing in this universe that he truly cared about - the respect and love of D'Argo. His loveer could not even look at him, Crichton had let him down so badly.

A sharp beeping noise finally penetrated his thoughts. He stopped suddenly wincing at his protesting muscles and willed them into jogging on the spot. He watched as a DRD made its way towards him, a large glass of water balancing precariously on its back.

"Keeping tabs on me, Pilot ?" he panted.

"You looked like you could use it, John Crichton."

Slowly, Crichton sank down the wall and plucked the glass from the DRD with a trembling hand.

"Thanks, Pilot."

"It was the least I could do."

The DRD scooted away as Crichton raised the glass to his lips. He took a sip, then another, getting his laboured breathing back under control. Then he set the glass down and allowed his head to fall forward.

"I failed him so badly," he whispered.

"You didn't fail anyone, John." said a quiet voice.

Crichton jerked up, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Aeryn! You startled me."

"I'm sorry." Aeryn moved closer and squatted down beside the shivering man. "You failed no one, John." She re-iterated, "We will all have to deal with this. We're all second-guessing ourselves, wondering what we could have done differently, and the fact is that there was nothing any of us could have done. We were all trapped, and that is something we will have to learn to live with. But you and D'Argo ..."

"There is no me and D'Argo," interrupted Crichton harshly, "He can't even see me, Aeryn! I guess he never knew just how...how weak his ally was. He must be so ashamed of me."

Aeryn gripped Crichton's chin and turned his face towards her. Crichton was surprised at the depth of anger he saw in her eyes.

"Now you listen to me, John Crichton." she hissed. "D'Argo is blaming no one but himself for what happened. He can't bring himself to go to you because he feels that he failed you, that he let you down. Can't you see that you're hurting him more than Matrop ever could ?"

Crichton gasped at her accusation, then her words began to sink in. "You mean he's not ... he's not angry with me?"

Aeryn slowly wrapped her arm around Crichton's shoulders, "Oh, John," she sighed, "No one's angry at you."

Crichton allowed himself to be pulled into her embrace, "It was my idea to help those bastards in the first place," he mumbled.

Aeryn squeezed his shoulders, "And we still love you for it. You care about people, John. You can't help it. Without you we'd just be a bunch of bloodthirsty fugitives, with you we have a soul. Don't change yourself, we want you the way you are. We need you the way you are."

Crichton looked up at her, tears pricking his eyes. He blinked rapidly. "That's probably the longest and nicest thing you've ever said to me."

Aeryn smiled. "Come on," she said, rising. "Let's get you back to your quarters, have a nice hot shower," she helped him stand, "and then you can go see D'Argo." She flinched as she saw the panic in Crichton's eyes.

"See D'Argo? What will I say? What will I tell him?"

"The truth, John. Just the truth."

They moved off slowly down the corridor.

***

Zhaan watched from the door as D'Argo continued to dismember the remains of the two dummies. There was very little left of either of them, and even the mat was beginning to show signs of abuse.

"This has to stop," she called out.

D'Argo whirled, Qualta blade raised. Then he relaxed as he saw Zhaan.

"I didn't hear you come in."

"No, I could see that." Zhaan stepped further into the room regarding the Luxan thoughtfully. "How long are you going to be hiding for?" she asked.

D'Argo frowned, "A warrior does not hide. I am not hiding."

"You're hiding from John," declared Zhaan.

"He doesn't want to see me." D'Argo turned his back.

"Frelling rubbish." snapped Zhaan. D'Argo turned back his eyes stretched in surprise. In all the time he'd known her he'd never heard the calm Delvian swear.

"You know nothing, Zhaan."

"I know John's hurting. I know he needs you." retorted Zhaan.

"John doesn't need me." said D'Argo, quietly, "He needs some one who can be there for him, who can protect him, who he can trust. He can't do that with me."

"I don't believe I'm hearing this." cried Zhaan. "John blames himself for everything that happened, for letting you down and when he needs you the most, when he needs to be reassured, when he needs to know he's loved, YOU turn your back on him. Just how selfish are you ?"

D'Argo stepped forward, the Qualta blade twitching in his hands. Zhaan spoke quickly.

"He never cried out, he never gave in, he never begged -- all for you. So that you wouldn't know how bad it really was. So that you wouldn't be hurt. That's the bravest thing I've ever seen, and you throw it back in his face." Deliberately Zhaan turned her back on the Luxann, "Maybe you're right, D'Argo, maybe John deserves better than you, after all, he's a braver warrior than you'll ever be."

D'Argo froze, the words echoing in his ears, but it was not Zhann's words he heard, it was John's -- "Ka D'Argo is a greater warrior than you can even dream of. You're no warrior, you're a coward." Tears spilled from his eyes.

"Is that what I've done?" D'Argo choked, "Abandoned him because I was too afraid to face him?"

Slowly, Zhaan turned back. The Qualta blade scraped the floor and D'Argo's shoulders slumped in defeat. She moved over and softly put her arms around him, "It's not too late, D'Argo. You can still go to him."

D'Argo rested his head on her shoulder, his breath hitching. "I can try," he sobbed.

***

Crichton walked slowly towards D'Argo's new quarters trying to ignore the butterflies already forming in his stomach. Silently he rehearsed his opening line.

"Hey, D'Argo, long time, no see." Too flippant.

What about, "I was feeling kinda lonely ..."? Oh no, that sounded like a very bad pick-up line.

Okay, Aeryn had said to tell the truth. The truth was, he loved D'Argo, he needed him, and he needed his forgiveness. It was no use everyone else telling him it was not his fault, he needed to hear it from D'Argo.

He turned the corner and almost ran in to the man in his thoughts. They both pulled up short. There was an interminable silence, then both rushed to fill it.

"I was coming to look for you ..."

"I wanted to talk to you ..."

They stopped.

Slowly D'Argo extended his hand. Tentatively John reached for it, and then, without even realising it, he was in his lover's arms, they were wrapped around him, holding him close and he was safe and secure.

"I'm sorry," Crichton breathed, "I should have fought harder, I shouldn't have let him ..."

D'Argo pulled back and rested a finger across Crichton's lips, "Ssh, you did all you could. It wasn't your fault, John."

Gently D'Argo pulled him round and they started walking back towards the Luxan's quarters.

"If you can forgive me, John, if you give me another chance, I'll never let you get hurt again."

Crichton looked deep into his eyes as they crossed the threshold to the quarters. "You can't protect me all the time, D'Argo. But I need to know that you won't leave me alone to face it."

They settled onto the bed and D'Argo tugged the blankets over them.

"I promise." he said.

Crichton settled back and felt D'Argo's arms around him. He sighed contentedly and drifted off to sleep.

D'Argo breathed in the scent of the human and tightened his arms around him as he heard the steady, even breaths of his lover. "I'll never let you go," he whispered.

And for the first time in a long time, both men slept peacefully, cradled in each other's arms.

 

END