Farscape fic: Yellow Submarine
Word count: 366
Setting: Post Liars, Guns and Money Trilogy
Disclaimer: Henson and Co... I just “borrow” them from time to time. Sadly, they are not like Blockbuster where if you decide you want to keep them, they just charge the full amount to your account. This was spawned from last weeks mircofic topic---sleep deprivation.
It has become routine now. Sleep cycle begins and she goes to him. She keys the lights low—but not off— and keeps still; he likes to curl close beside her, like a Pressmar kitten to its mother. He fidgets, hands always busy, petting her. The pull on her shirt fascinates him now. Gently, she coaxes him to lay his head in her lap, drawing the golden sheet over his sprawled legs. He talks to her, inane ramblings and bits of songs, his hands dancing above his tired face, knuckles caressing her breasts as he plays with the zipper pull. She lets him, gently stroking his cheeks with her fingertips. She waits; some nights she simply cannot quiet him and has to call for Zhaan to drug him to sleep.
Tonight however, he seems more in control. The madness still dances in his eyes, but she catches bits of John in the corners, in between songs and Scorpius. His fingers brush across her lips, and she takes that as a sign he want her to start.
She didn’t know any songs of her own, so she used the little she could remember of his. “In the town where I was born/lived a man who sailed to sea. And he told us of his life/in the land of submarines.” She’d felt ridiculous the first time she’d tried singing to him; she knew she had no talent. But John had frozen mid rant, and listened. When she faltered, forgetting the lyrics, he’d been able to correct her, and helped her finish the song.
He was mouthing the words with her now, eyelids drooping. “So we sailed up to the sun till we found the sea of green. And we lived beneath the waves in our yellow submarine.”
Eventually he drifts off, although his fingertips occasionally twitch. She’ll sing until her voice is gone, repeating the chorus until first shift starts and D’Argo relieves her from her watch. She’ll try to catch a few arns of rest before the madness breaks through again. Pilot estimates another weeken before they reach the Diagnosian.
Aeyrn wishes she knew another song.
We all live in a yellow submarine,
Yellow submarine, yellow submarine