An End
 

by Natalie Williams

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own anything in this story. In fact, I’m sure everyone
associated with Farscape would shoot me dead several times over if they read
this. But please don't sue. Please.

ARCHIVE: My site, and I don’t think anyone else will wanna touch this one. If
you do, E-mail me and ask.

SUMMARY: Crais catches up with our heroes.

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He still couldn’t believe this was happening. But this was it, this was the end
of the road, nothing more to say. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred
dollars. Crais had them, and they were going to be killed.

He could still vividly remember the moments when the Peacekeepers had first
stormed Moya looking for them. They couldn’t fight them all off, so they had
decided to split up. Their chances were better that way, or at least they
thought so.

John didn’t know at this point who was alive and who wasn’t. He hadn’t been too
far from D’Argo when he was caught, and John had heard a struggle. At least the
big guy put up a fight. Moments later, he himself had been captured. He didn’t
know if anyone else had been able to escape, but unless they were very lucky,
they’d be found sooner or later.

The others would probably be killed quickly. They really were of no concern of
Crais,’ so there was no need to keep them alive. But he had a reason to come
after John, and he shuddered to think what that madman might be doing to Aeryn.
He prayed that she was all right.

Actually, John hadn’t fared that well. They’d been smart, knocking him out and
keeping him drugged up till they got him back to the Peacekeeper command
carrier. He couldn’t fight back if he was out cold. Unfortunately, they’d waited
till he was fully conscious before they’d started torturing him.

He didn’t know how long he’d been here. Days, maybe longer At least, it felt
longer. For a while he had thought maybe he could find a way out, but Crais had
him. Even if there was a way out, John was too fatigued, and too hurt to
actually make it out of here that way. In the time he had been locked alone in
this cell, he had accepted what was happening, what would happen.

But it still didn’t feel real.

John was almost relieved when two of the Peacekeepers under Crais’ command came
to get him. He was surprised that they didn’t try to restrain him in any way,
but he knew why. They could kill him easily with their bare hands; they didn’t
need weapons or restraints.

She was the first thing he saw when they brought him into the room. Aeryn was on
the other side of the immense chamber, guarded by another two Peacekeepers. She
looked about as tired and sore as he felt, but she was taking it better. She
stood tall, never letting the pain show on her face. She caught his eye, and by
the look on her face she knew exactly what was going to happen here.

It was then that John looked around the room. He and Aeryn were towards one side
of the room, facing a sea of black. It reminded him of the assemblies he’d been
forced to go to at school, only much more morbid. He didn’t know how many
Peacekeepers were there, watching, waiting to see them executed. He looked out
at them, the shadows that they were, and realized that they didn’t even care
what they were about to see.

He looked at Aeryn again. She’d been one of them. But she had come so far from
being what she once was. She had her own mind, a conscience, a soul, and for
that she had been slated for death. She had displayed those qualities to save
him, and it was his fault that she was here now. This should never have happened
to her, and he had told her that. She didn’t seem to blame him anymore, though.
And he was so proud of her...

Only now did he notice that Crais had moved between them, and John caught that
snide look, that veneer of smug self-satisfaction at finally having beaten him.
John wanted to badly to strike out at him- but he knew better. It wouldn’t solve
anything, just get him a lot deader a lot quicker.

Crais turned to the other Peacekeepers. “These two are to be used as examples,”
he said in a voice loud enough that it carried throughout the room. “This is
what happens to those who can’t follow orders.”

He spun around to John, a feral grin on his face. “This is what we do to
murderers,” he said in a low growl. “I’m going to enjoy this, Crichton.”

John stared him straight in the eye. It was bad enough he was in this situation
now, about to be killed by the man who had spent so long chasing them around the
Uncharted Territories on a personal vendetta. John refused to show his fear.

And he was scared. He had accepted what was happening, yes. But that did not
mean he wanted to die.

Crais directed the Peacekeepers holding John and Aeryn to the middle of the
room. He caught her eye, and suddenly John wished he could say so much to her...
And now he would never have the chance to say what he needed to say.

Rough hands pushed him forward, and John felt a sharp jolt of pain run through
his left knee as he landed on it next to Aeryn. She slid him a glance as they
both straightened up, whispering, “This is it.”

Crais was in front of them with the pulse rifle, waving it in front of their
faces, trying to see who would flinch first. Neither of them did. “Any last
words?” he said. He was taking way too much pleasure in this.

John nodded. “Burn in hell, Crais,” he said, looking up at him.

Crais glared, then turned once again to the audience. “Watch carefully,” he
said.

As he spoke, John murmured, “Aeryn?” and she turned her head to him. “Aeryn, I-”

She didn’t say anything, just took her hand in his, squeezing it. He knew then
just how scared she was- maybe as scared as he was. She had told him once that
she didn’t want to die alone... She’d gotten her wish.