Blue Eyes - So close to actual plot
Jul. 8th, 2003 03:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
itsallovernowThe plot is in sight, I just have to stretch a little further! ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
suelac is undoubtedly right. This would function much better with only two POV switches, however, I kind of wrote myself into a corner with this chapter and will try and do the two POV's from now on, but no promises. I'm thinking it will all happen in the rewrites. Again, it's rough, rough, rough.
To catch up, go here: Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Anix was picking through her dinner, watching Teyvn continue to flip cards onto the table out of the corner of her eye when the guard’s com badge burst into life.
“Pulse fire in section 6,” she heard Atos report quickly. Teyvn and D’Argo were already on their feet, heading out of the room before he could say, “It came from Crichton’s room.”
Unnoticed, pelting along behind the soldiers as ran through the hallway, Anix pulled herself short as they skidded to a halt in front of the door, looking in to see Crichton wearing a glossy pink coat and arguing with Atos.
“Dude, I thought I saw something, and the pulse pistol must have misfired. It was a mistake.” Crichton insisted. He looked edgy and agitated and Anix didn’t believe him.
Atos, hefted his pulse rifle to his other hand, and looked around Crichton’s quarters, taking in the sizeable hole in the headboard where the pulse blast had singed the wood. “Pulse pistols don’t misfire,” he said stiffly.
“Yeah, well, maybe it’s old, maybe it hasn’t been cleaned, I don’t know.” Crichton threw the pistol onto the bed where it thudded dully on a leather jacket.
Atos continued to regard him with suspicion, cocking his head, and looking around, finally settling on Teyvn and D’Argo, both of whom watched the human steadily, revealing little of their thoughts.
“It was an accident, D. Just a mistake,” he said, appealing to D’Argo. “Just a stupid human trick.”
D’Argo snorted and nodded, raising up his qualta blade and sheathing it behind him, “Well, I suppose it has been some time since you fired a pulse pistol.”
John nodded, relieved.
“Why don’t you come have something to eat with us?” the Luxan asked.
Crichton sat down on the bed, bracing himself on his thighs, looking at the floor, and said, “Yeah, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
D’Argo and Teyvn exchanged glances, and indicated to Atos that he should accompany them. They were turning to leave, a signal that Anix herself should hurry back to the common area before they noticed her, when she felt a hand tightly grip her shoulder. She let out a yelp of surprise as a tired, authoritative voice demanded, “What the frell is going on here?” She didn’t have to turn around to know it was her mother.
Aeryn didn’t even bother to chastise her, just walked into the human’s chambers. She modulated her tone a little, but repeated the question.
“John, what’s going on?”
The human looked up at her, taking in her weariness.
“Thanks for the clothing,” he said softly. “I was getting a little tired of pink, and we haven’t exactly had time to go to the mall.”
She shook her head. “They’re Teyvn’s. Thank him for the loan. And answer my question.” John continued to look at her, worrying his lower lip with his thumb.
D’Argo and the commandoes exchanged further looks and the two Sebaceans left quietly. D’ Argo stepped into the room to stand by Aeryn.
Anix crept forward to better hear their low voices, hoping that no one would remember her presence.
“I thought I saw something,” Crichton finally answered, reluctantly. “It startled me. I had the gun in my hand and I fired before I thought about it.”
“John,” said D’Argo, “What did you see?”
He appealed to his former friends, looking back and forth between them. “It was nothing, just a hallucination. I’ve had some weird flashes of things, some vertigo and disorientation since I woke up. The doc said it was normal, that it’d go away soon.”
Aeryn squared her shoulders. Anix recognized the posture and felt a momentary pang of sympathy for her human friend.
Aeryn’s words were slow, enunciated and brooked no other response than the truth. “What, exactly, did you see that scared you so much that you blew a hole through the bed.” The question was kinder than Anix expected, and she waited for the answer.
John dropped his hands to his thighs again and looked down. “Scorpy,” he mumbled.
Aeryn and D’Argo looked at each, identical expressions on their faces. “What did you say,” growled D’Argo and John looked back up quickly, anger and defiance and fear twisting his handsome features.
“I saw Scorpius, D’Argo. Clear as mud, sitting on my bed. He dropped by to say hi.”
She didn’t know if it was the name, which sounded familiar to her, or the human’s anger, but something reminded her mother of her presence. She turned towards her daughter and Anix squared her own shoulders, preparing for a fight. But Aeryn just sighed and wearily gestured her into the room, saying, “You’ll just go halfway down the hall and sneak back.”
She joined them, trying to nonchalantly stroll in. Crichton raised an eyebrow at her but patted the bed by his side and she sat down, grateful for his support.
“What exactly do you mean when you say you saw him, John?” Aeryn asked, her voice modulated and controlled.
“Didn’t think there was a lot of room to maneuver in that definition Aeryn,” he snarled. “I saw that leather clad freak sitting on the bed.”
“You’re sure it was him?” she prodded and Anix could feel the coiled tension in him as he answered, “He’s not someone I’m likely to forget Aeryn.”
Her mother closed her eyes briefly, pinching the bridge of her nose before refocusing on Crichton.
“There’s no one here John,” she gestured to the bed., “ And if someone was here, even you couldn’t have missed him at this range.”
Crichton pursed his lips together, but said nothing.
“All right, just be careful about who you point that at,” Aeryn conceded.
That didn’t seem to be enough, her mother just giving up after all of that. It rubbed at Anix, leaving her feeling irritated and left out.
“Who’s Scorpius?” she demanded. They all looked at her, mildly stunned.
“He’s um, a Peacekeeper,” stuttered D’Argo.
“He’s a monster,” said Aeryn flatly. “ An abomination.”
She heard them, took it in, but looked at John.
“He’s my worst nightmare, kid,” he answered softly. “He’s why I’m here in this palace.” He made an effort to smile at her, and patted her gently on the knee. She tried to return the smile, but no one had answered her question. She looked up to see her mother biting down on her lower lip. The silence stretched out until Anix wanted to yell and pound her fists and demand that they tell her what was going on, that they treat her like an adult.
“Anix,” Aeryn requested finally. “Could you and D’Argo go back to the common room, maybe finish your evening meal.?” She had been set to protest, to insist on staying, but she had rarely heard that kind of soft request from her mother over the past few cycles.
Aeryn nodded at D’Argo, who held out his hand for Anix. She looked at John, who gave her that same half-hearted smile, so reluctantly she trailed after D’Argo. Anix paused outside the room and turned, still curious, to find that her mother had taken her place on the bed, her posture mimicking Crichton’s.
“ I said I saw him, Aeryn,” she heard the human murmur. “I didn’t say he was real.”
Her mother’s response was lost as D’Argo tugged her down the hallway.
“Who’s Scorpius?” she asked again when they were out of earshot.
“Anix,” he muttered reproachfully.
She sniffed. “If you would all tell me what’s going on here, you wouldn’t have to keep saying my name like I was some sort of misbehaving treznot.”
A low laugh rumbled from D’Argo and Anix was pleased that he seemed willing to humor her. She knew that she could push D’Argo farther than anyone before inciting his wrath, but even she knew that there were limits. She’d been denied information her whole life because of safety concerns, but she had been a child then. She missed Chiana desperately at the moment, someone who would tell her the truth, and stroke her hair and giggle with her, who’d treat her like an adult, but the Nebari resistance had proved too much of a siren song in the last few cycles, her relationship with the Luxan and his son too tenuous for the three of them to live together for long.
She would have liked to question John as he’d seemed willing to elaborate, but his attention had been fixed on Aeryn, and Anix wasn’t sure she liked that. She wanted to tug on her mother’s sleeve and beg for answers and attention, but that technique had never worked with Aeryn Sun.
She continued to press D’Argo for information as they returned to the common room, finally winning an exasperated groan from him.
“I have not slept well in days and have been arguing with your mother for most of that time,” he said, taking a healthy swallow from his flask. “I do not want to talk about all of this.”
She looked at him appealingly, and he sat forward, palms pressed against the table.
“No,” he insisted.
She slumped down in the chair, exasperated and reconsidered. “Well, tell me about Crichton then,” she wheedled.
“Anix,” he growled, his temper finally fraying, “Leave it alone, or for frell’s sake, ask your mother.”
“She’ll only tell me what she thinks I should know,” Anix shot back, equally upset now. “There are whole parts of her life that I know nothing about! You all act like I can’t even handle simple information about your life before me and it’s not frelling fair. We come down to this planet, and no one even told me you’d been here before, that you’d left someone behind here!”
She felt hot, hard tears behind her eyes and swiped them away. Her mother would never treat her like an adult if she kept crying all the time.
D’Argo touched her hand, enveloping her fingers in his much larger grip. “It was a long time ago, Anix. A different world and a different life.”
She sniffed a little and tried to calm down. “Aeryn has always had your best interests at heart, but maybe we should have been more open about who we were.” She nodded, sensing that D’Argo was going to give in to her demands.
“Aeryn is going to kill me,” he muttered under his breath. He paused, and she waited until he finally said.
“Alright, I’ll tell you about meeting John Crichton.”
Teyvn, who had also returned to the common room, sat up and leaned towards D’Argo, equally expectant. “We’re all ears, Captain,” he said with a hint of mockery.
D’Argo looked disgustedly at his fellow soldier before going on with his story.
“You know that we were prisoners, Zhaan and Rygel and I, that Moya was a prison transport and that we broke free.”
Anix knew the basics of this, “With Rygel’s help,” she added.
“Yes, with Rygel’s help,” D’Argo muttered.
“Wait,” Anix interrupted, “Is this where Rygel was for all those cycles?”
D’Argo smiled, pleased with her quick realization. “Yes, he was advising the Empress for awhile,” he began.
“ But when he got word that the Charrids had entered the war on the side of the Scarrans, he joined the council,” Anix finished.
“Yes,” D’Argo agreed, “Now, no questions and no interruptions or we will never finish this.”
Anix smiled at him, the tears having faded, and he continued. “We were in the middle of a firefight when this small, white ship came out of nowhere. It collided with one of the prowlers, which smashed into an asteroid. We pulled it onto Moya with the docking web…”
For the next several arns, far into the night, Anix listened to stories of Moya’s fugitive prisoners. Some she was familiar with, having heard severely edited versions out of context over the cycles, but most were a revelation to her. She simply didn’t know these people, the hot tempered Luxan or seductive thief or gentle priestess or mad Peackeeper Captain bore only passing resemblance to the creatures who had been part of her life since she could remember, people who, for the most part, she had lost. She certainly didn’t know the ex-Peacekeeper soldier who seemed to have cared about a misplaced human and who seemed so young and so angry over no longer being a Peacekeeper.
“The virus took over Larraq, who stabbed Aeryn and then tried to escape. John prevented it,” D’Argo said. He tilted his flask back, finding it nearly empty. “And obviously, your mother recovered from the wound.” Anix had seen the scar from that knife, sharp and thin and deadly. “But that wasn’t quite the end of the story.”
Anix felt shaky, shocky from this overload of information. She looked at D’Argo accusingly, groping for something to say to the weary Luxan. “You still haven’t told me about Scorpius. And if Crais hated you all so much…” she felt the hysteria in her voice, and drifted off as D’Argo reached over to stroke her cheek.
“It is a lot to take in, Anix.”
She shook her head, her eyes again filling inexplicably with tears. “We’re never going to settle down anywhere, are we?” She asked miserably. She put her head in her hands, letting the tears seep out. She felt absurd crying about someone else’s past, but it just seemed so futile to keep running.
“You should tell her the rest, D’Argo,” Aeryn said softly. Anix looked up to see her mother standing by her chair. Aeryn reached out and tentatively stroked her hair, before turning to D’Argo. “Tell her about John and his foolishness, his unwillingness to let me die, to allow me to die alone,” she said, sounding brittle and unhappy.
It was too much then, too many things beyond her knowledge, too many visions of her family that didn’t match her knowledge of them. The tears were hot, burning down her face and she couldn’t catch her breath. She stood up, backing away from her mother and D’Argo, Teyvn watching her with his chin resting on his fist. Her voice shook when she spoke, embarrassing her further.
“I, I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed, now.” The adults observed her, none of them moving towards her in comfort or condemnation and she turned, walking quickly out of the room before sinking against the wall outside in the hallway, trying to stifle her sobs.
“Ridiculous,” she thought to herself, “Stop crying Anix Sun. You’re not a little girl, those things didn’t happen to you!” She pounded her fist against her thigh, the physical pain helping to distract her.
She could hear her mother’s low voice, and D’Argo’s response, “We should have told her years ago, Aeryn. These aren’t the kind of secrets that anyone cares about.”
Her mother didn’t say anything, and eventually, Anix retreated to her quarters, falling into a troubled sleep. When she woke, early in the morning, she saw that her mother’s bed had not been slept in.
suelac is undoubtedly right. This would function much better with only two POV switches, however, I kind of wrote myself into a corner with this chapter and will try and do the two POV's from now on, but no promises. I'm thinking it will all happen in the rewrites. Again, it's rough, rough, rough.To catch up, go here: Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Anix was picking through her dinner, watching Teyvn continue to flip cards onto the table out of the corner of her eye when the guard’s com badge burst into life.
“Pulse fire in section 6,” she heard Atos report quickly. Teyvn and D’Argo were already on their feet, heading out of the room before he could say, “It came from Crichton’s room.”
Unnoticed, pelting along behind the soldiers as ran through the hallway, Anix pulled herself short as they skidded to a halt in front of the door, looking in to see Crichton wearing a glossy pink coat and arguing with Atos.
“Dude, I thought I saw something, and the pulse pistol must have misfired. It was a mistake.” Crichton insisted. He looked edgy and agitated and Anix didn’t believe him.
Atos, hefted his pulse rifle to his other hand, and looked around Crichton’s quarters, taking in the sizeable hole in the headboard where the pulse blast had singed the wood. “Pulse pistols don’t misfire,” he said stiffly.
“Yeah, well, maybe it’s old, maybe it hasn’t been cleaned, I don’t know.” Crichton threw the pistol onto the bed where it thudded dully on a leather jacket.
Atos continued to regard him with suspicion, cocking his head, and looking around, finally settling on Teyvn and D’Argo, both of whom watched the human steadily, revealing little of their thoughts.
“It was an accident, D. Just a mistake,” he said, appealing to D’Argo. “Just a stupid human trick.”
D’Argo snorted and nodded, raising up his qualta blade and sheathing it behind him, “Well, I suppose it has been some time since you fired a pulse pistol.”
John nodded, relieved.
“Why don’t you come have something to eat with us?” the Luxan asked.
Crichton sat down on the bed, bracing himself on his thighs, looking at the floor, and said, “Yeah, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
D’Argo and Teyvn exchanged glances, and indicated to Atos that he should accompany them. They were turning to leave, a signal that Anix herself should hurry back to the common area before they noticed her, when she felt a hand tightly grip her shoulder. She let out a yelp of surprise as a tired, authoritative voice demanded, “What the frell is going on here?” She didn’t have to turn around to know it was her mother.
Aeryn didn’t even bother to chastise her, just walked into the human’s chambers. She modulated her tone a little, but repeated the question.
“John, what’s going on?”
The human looked up at her, taking in her weariness.
“Thanks for the clothing,” he said softly. “I was getting a little tired of pink, and we haven’t exactly had time to go to the mall.”
She shook her head. “They’re Teyvn’s. Thank him for the loan. And answer my question.” John continued to look at her, worrying his lower lip with his thumb.
D’Argo and the commandoes exchanged further looks and the two Sebaceans left quietly. D’ Argo stepped into the room to stand by Aeryn.
Anix crept forward to better hear their low voices, hoping that no one would remember her presence.
“I thought I saw something,” Crichton finally answered, reluctantly. “It startled me. I had the gun in my hand and I fired before I thought about it.”
“John,” said D’Argo, “What did you see?”
He appealed to his former friends, looking back and forth between them. “It was nothing, just a hallucination. I’ve had some weird flashes of things, some vertigo and disorientation since I woke up. The doc said it was normal, that it’d go away soon.”
Aeryn squared her shoulders. Anix recognized the posture and felt a momentary pang of sympathy for her human friend.
Aeryn’s words were slow, enunciated and brooked no other response than the truth. “What, exactly, did you see that scared you so much that you blew a hole through the bed.” The question was kinder than Anix expected, and she waited for the answer.
John dropped his hands to his thighs again and looked down. “Scorpy,” he mumbled.
Aeryn and D’Argo looked at each, identical expressions on their faces. “What did you say,” growled D’Argo and John looked back up quickly, anger and defiance and fear twisting his handsome features.
“I saw Scorpius, D’Argo. Clear as mud, sitting on my bed. He dropped by to say hi.”
She didn’t know if it was the name, which sounded familiar to her, or the human’s anger, but something reminded her mother of her presence. She turned towards her daughter and Anix squared her own shoulders, preparing for a fight. But Aeryn just sighed and wearily gestured her into the room, saying, “You’ll just go halfway down the hall and sneak back.”
She joined them, trying to nonchalantly stroll in. Crichton raised an eyebrow at her but patted the bed by his side and she sat down, grateful for his support.
“What exactly do you mean when you say you saw him, John?” Aeryn asked, her voice modulated and controlled.
“Didn’t think there was a lot of room to maneuver in that definition Aeryn,” he snarled. “I saw that leather clad freak sitting on the bed.”
“You’re sure it was him?” she prodded and Anix could feel the coiled tension in him as he answered, “He’s not someone I’m likely to forget Aeryn.”
Her mother closed her eyes briefly, pinching the bridge of her nose before refocusing on Crichton.
“There’s no one here John,” she gestured to the bed., “ And if someone was here, even you couldn’t have missed him at this range.”
Crichton pursed his lips together, but said nothing.
“All right, just be careful about who you point that at,” Aeryn conceded.
That didn’t seem to be enough, her mother just giving up after all of that. It rubbed at Anix, leaving her feeling irritated and left out.
“Who’s Scorpius?” she demanded. They all looked at her, mildly stunned.
“He’s um, a Peacekeeper,” stuttered D’Argo.
“He’s a monster,” said Aeryn flatly. “ An abomination.”
She heard them, took it in, but looked at John.
“He’s my worst nightmare, kid,” he answered softly. “He’s why I’m here in this palace.” He made an effort to smile at her, and patted her gently on the knee. She tried to return the smile, but no one had answered her question. She looked up to see her mother biting down on her lower lip. The silence stretched out until Anix wanted to yell and pound her fists and demand that they tell her what was going on, that they treat her like an adult.
“Anix,” Aeryn requested finally. “Could you and D’Argo go back to the common room, maybe finish your evening meal.?” She had been set to protest, to insist on staying, but she had rarely heard that kind of soft request from her mother over the past few cycles.
Aeryn nodded at D’Argo, who held out his hand for Anix. She looked at John, who gave her that same half-hearted smile, so reluctantly she trailed after D’Argo. Anix paused outside the room and turned, still curious, to find that her mother had taken her place on the bed, her posture mimicking Crichton’s.
“ I said I saw him, Aeryn,” she heard the human murmur. “I didn’t say he was real.”
Her mother’s response was lost as D’Argo tugged her down the hallway.
“Who’s Scorpius?” she asked again when they were out of earshot.
“Anix,” he muttered reproachfully.
She sniffed. “If you would all tell me what’s going on here, you wouldn’t have to keep saying my name like I was some sort of misbehaving treznot.”
A low laugh rumbled from D’Argo and Anix was pleased that he seemed willing to humor her. She knew that she could push D’Argo farther than anyone before inciting his wrath, but even she knew that there were limits. She’d been denied information her whole life because of safety concerns, but she had been a child then. She missed Chiana desperately at the moment, someone who would tell her the truth, and stroke her hair and giggle with her, who’d treat her like an adult, but the Nebari resistance had proved too much of a siren song in the last few cycles, her relationship with the Luxan and his son too tenuous for the three of them to live together for long.
She would have liked to question John as he’d seemed willing to elaborate, but his attention had been fixed on Aeryn, and Anix wasn’t sure she liked that. She wanted to tug on her mother’s sleeve and beg for answers and attention, but that technique had never worked with Aeryn Sun.
She continued to press D’Argo for information as they returned to the common room, finally winning an exasperated groan from him.
“I have not slept well in days and have been arguing with your mother for most of that time,” he said, taking a healthy swallow from his flask. “I do not want to talk about all of this.”
She looked at him appealingly, and he sat forward, palms pressed against the table.
“No,” he insisted.
She slumped down in the chair, exasperated and reconsidered. “Well, tell me about Crichton then,” she wheedled.
“Anix,” he growled, his temper finally fraying, “Leave it alone, or for frell’s sake, ask your mother.”
“She’ll only tell me what she thinks I should know,” Anix shot back, equally upset now. “There are whole parts of her life that I know nothing about! You all act like I can’t even handle simple information about your life before me and it’s not frelling fair. We come down to this planet, and no one even told me you’d been here before, that you’d left someone behind here!”
She felt hot, hard tears behind her eyes and swiped them away. Her mother would never treat her like an adult if she kept crying all the time.
D’Argo touched her hand, enveloping her fingers in his much larger grip. “It was a long time ago, Anix. A different world and a different life.”
She sniffed a little and tried to calm down. “Aeryn has always had your best interests at heart, but maybe we should have been more open about who we were.” She nodded, sensing that D’Argo was going to give in to her demands.
“Aeryn is going to kill me,” he muttered under his breath. He paused, and she waited until he finally said.
“Alright, I’ll tell you about meeting John Crichton.”
Teyvn, who had also returned to the common room, sat up and leaned towards D’Argo, equally expectant. “We’re all ears, Captain,” he said with a hint of mockery.
D’Argo looked disgustedly at his fellow soldier before going on with his story.
“You know that we were prisoners, Zhaan and Rygel and I, that Moya was a prison transport and that we broke free.”
Anix knew the basics of this, “With Rygel’s help,” she added.
“Yes, with Rygel’s help,” D’Argo muttered.
“Wait,” Anix interrupted, “Is this where Rygel was for all those cycles?”
D’Argo smiled, pleased with her quick realization. “Yes, he was advising the Empress for awhile,” he began.
“ But when he got word that the Charrids had entered the war on the side of the Scarrans, he joined the council,” Anix finished.
“Yes,” D’Argo agreed, “Now, no questions and no interruptions or we will never finish this.”
Anix smiled at him, the tears having faded, and he continued. “We were in the middle of a firefight when this small, white ship came out of nowhere. It collided with one of the prowlers, which smashed into an asteroid. We pulled it onto Moya with the docking web…”
For the next several arns, far into the night, Anix listened to stories of Moya’s fugitive prisoners. Some she was familiar with, having heard severely edited versions out of context over the cycles, but most were a revelation to her. She simply didn’t know these people, the hot tempered Luxan or seductive thief or gentle priestess or mad Peackeeper Captain bore only passing resemblance to the creatures who had been part of her life since she could remember, people who, for the most part, she had lost. She certainly didn’t know the ex-Peacekeeper soldier who seemed to have cared about a misplaced human and who seemed so young and so angry over no longer being a Peacekeeper.
“The virus took over Larraq, who stabbed Aeryn and then tried to escape. John prevented it,” D’Argo said. He tilted his flask back, finding it nearly empty. “And obviously, your mother recovered from the wound.” Anix had seen the scar from that knife, sharp and thin and deadly. “But that wasn’t quite the end of the story.”
Anix felt shaky, shocky from this overload of information. She looked at D’Argo accusingly, groping for something to say to the weary Luxan. “You still haven’t told me about Scorpius. And if Crais hated you all so much…” she felt the hysteria in her voice, and drifted off as D’Argo reached over to stroke her cheek.
“It is a lot to take in, Anix.”
She shook her head, her eyes again filling inexplicably with tears. “We’re never going to settle down anywhere, are we?” She asked miserably. She put her head in her hands, letting the tears seep out. She felt absurd crying about someone else’s past, but it just seemed so futile to keep running.
“You should tell her the rest, D’Argo,” Aeryn said softly. Anix looked up to see her mother standing by her chair. Aeryn reached out and tentatively stroked her hair, before turning to D’Argo. “Tell her about John and his foolishness, his unwillingness to let me die, to allow me to die alone,” she said, sounding brittle and unhappy.
It was too much then, too many things beyond her knowledge, too many visions of her family that didn’t match her knowledge of them. The tears were hot, burning down her face and she couldn’t catch her breath. She stood up, backing away from her mother and D’Argo, Teyvn watching her with his chin resting on his fist. Her voice shook when she spoke, embarrassing her further.
“I, I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed, now.” The adults observed her, none of them moving towards her in comfort or condemnation and she turned, walking quickly out of the room before sinking against the wall outside in the hallway, trying to stifle her sobs.
“Ridiculous,” she thought to herself, “Stop crying Anix Sun. You’re not a little girl, those things didn’t happen to you!” She pounded her fist against her thigh, the physical pain helping to distract her.
She could hear her mother’s low voice, and D’Argo’s response, “We should have told her years ago, Aeryn. These aren’t the kind of secrets that anyone cares about.”
Her mother didn’t say anything, and eventually, Anix retreated to her quarters, falling into a troubled sleep. When she woke, early in the morning, she saw that her mother’s bed had not been slept in.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-07-08 03:46 pm (UTC)fb when I'm not late for dinner.
no subject
Date: 2003-07-10 07:57 am (UTC)Re:
Date: 2003-07-10 10:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-15 04:37 pm (UTC)Makes me think a little of my John's daughter fics.
Re:
Date: 2003-07-15 06:01 pm (UTC)And I will take the fact that she reminds you of your very lovely creation as a compliment!!