The Art Of Friendship by Allison McDonnell

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Chapter Three: Unfinished Business

Devon and John were feeling more than just a little uncomfortable. Danziger had already been less than pleased to learn that he was being forced to share a tent with Devon. And now, it turned out that there was only one sleeping bag for the two of them.

By the time he'd arrived, Devon had already unzipped the bedding and spread it out on the grass floor for them both to use. Without saying a word, the mechanic had scooted as far to the edge of the material as possible and made a futile attempt to block out the memories of the two previous times he and Devon had shared a blanket, once during a search for water and the other on a moonlit hillside overlooking a lake.

While John laid on his back, obviously deep in thought as he stared at the nylon ceiling, Devon had stretched out on her stomach and was situated near the center of the sleeping bag. She pulled back the crease of the tent opening to peer at the relentless wind and rain that continued to hammer the valley.

"It's really coming down out there," she commented, trying to break the tense silence between them.

"Uh-huh," he finally grunted in reply, his voice sounding distracted at best.

More stillness followed before Devon again tried to engage him in conversation. "Were you able to fix the 'Rail?"

Danziger's eyes remained focused on the drops of water roughly pelting the canvas above him. "More or less."

Devon gave him an odd look. She'd assumed that mentioning the Dunerail would open a floodgate of hostility from Danziger. Instead, his demeanor was best described as overall disinterest. To Devon, this new avoidance tactic of his was almost as confusing as it was infuriating.

As her irritation grew, she challenged herself to see if she could induce Danziger to look in her direction or, at the very least, speak to her using sentences consisting of more than three syllables. Realizing that he probably hadn't been given the chance to eat since that morning and looking for any excuse to end the uneasy silence, she reached into her bag and removed a packet of Spirolina.

"Here," she said bluntly, unceremoniously tossing the food at him where it bounced off of his shoulder.

The mechanic sat up and retrieved the package, his still-wet clothes leaving a soggy imprint on the blanket where he'd been laying.

"Thanks," he murmured, wearing a preoccupied expression. He only briefly met her gaze before returning his attention to carefully tearing open the foil wrapper.

It went right back to the silence, again (except for the sound of Danziger's chewing), and Devon was at a complete loss. For the first time in a month, she and John were finally being given the opportunity to be alone with one another. It wasn't that either of them were intent on pursuing a physical relationship, at least not yet. But she'd longed to be able to spend some quality time with him, whether it was to discuss the antics of their children or the group's traveling schedule or even to have an argument over something ridiculous-- she just wanted to be with him. And now, at last, they were by themselves and to Devon's deep dismay, though John's physical presence was a mere three feet from hers, he might as well have been a million miles away.

This is absolutely absurd, she began to fume. Danziger has the nerve to be giving her the cold shoulder just because she'd dented (okay, slightly more than dented) his precious Dunerail. And what was the big deal, anyway? It was nothing more than an unfortunate accident. Yet he was acting like she'd done it on purpose just to spite him. And besides that, although Devon may have put John in charge of keeping all three of the vehicles running, it was her own money that had bought and paid for them to be shipped to G889. When it came down to it, that 'Rail was the property of Eden Project, not John Danziger. There was absolutely no reason why Devon should be forced to walk on eggshells.

Well, that was going to stop right now.

She launched to the seated position. "You're really angry with me, aren't you?" she challenged, employing her most indignant tone.

Danziger crinkled up the empty food wrapper and stuffed it into the side pocket of his duffle bag. "Take a wild guess," he glowered.

Devon crossed her arms in front of her, inwardly readying herself for a heated battle with the mechanic. "Well, go ahead and get it out of your system," she demanded crisply. "Come on, tell me all about how I should have been paying more attention to the road instead of-"

John's head flew backward. "That's what you think this is about?" he interrupted in amazement. "You think I'm pissed off because you wrecked the shanking 'Rail?"

Devon blinked several times, totally baffled. "Well, if it's not that, then what?"

His only response to her was a judgmental stare, so she tried her hand at guessing the answer on her own. "This couldn't possibly be about me not talking to you on gear this afternoon," she speculated, basically taking a shot in the dark.

Danziger's shoulders dropped and he diverted his eyes to the ground, subtle but unmistakable confirmation to Devon that she'd unwittingly stumbled upon the root of his anger. Devon could feel her blood starting to boil with the thought that John's bearish behavior had been nothing more than an overreaction on his part to the notion that she'd slighted him.

"I don't believe it! That's what your mad about?" The words sounded almost resentful as they left her mouth.

Danziger's own voice became charged with bitterness as he remet her gaze. "Do you have any idea what you put me through today?" He harshly raked his hands through his damp curls. "My God, Devon, I was half out of my mind with worry! You wouldn't let me see you! You wouldn't speak to me on gear! I wasn't sure how badly you were hurt! I didn't know what to expect when I got here."

"I told everyone back at camp that I was okay," she exclaimed snippily.

John's eyes narrowed. "Yeah, and we all know how truthful you are when it comes to your health, don't we?" he snarled, his tone ripe with cynicism.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He began to speak, ready to give her a piece of his mind, but abruptly stopped himself. The fury that he'd exhibited only moments before melted away as he took several deep breaths. Then, to Devon's astonishment, he quietly stretched back out on the sleeping bag and interlocked his fingers behind his head.

"I'm not gonna fight with you about this," he said flatly. "This discussion is over."

Devon was incensed. "Oh, no it's not! Not by a long shot! You don't get to make an accusation like that and then think you can roll over and go to sleep!" She buried her fists into her sides. "And since when do you not want to fight with me?" she added huffily.

John leaned forward and propped himself up on his elbows. "Since now, okay?" he said, shaking his head. "Not about this."

The pain that was exhibited in his voice took her by surprise. Devon's stomach clenched in concern as she examined the sudden change in his features. The anger in his eyes had vanished and in its place was a sadness so intense that she found it jarring. Something was very wrong.

Her brow creased with worry. "What's going on? Why would you think I'd lie to you about being hurt?" she questioned softly.

He refused to answer, prompting her to lightly grasp his hand. "Please, John," she pleaded. "Something I've done has really upset you and I want you," she paused to rephrase her appeal, "I need you to tell me what it is."

With her fingers still laced with his, John sat up beside her with their knees touching. He remained quiet for several moments before finally speaking in a voice so hushed that it was difficult to hear him over the din of the thunderstorm raging outside.

"You never told us that you didn't have a bio-stat implant. You knew that you were dying from a different sickness, but you never said a word."

Devon's mouth fell open and she jerked back her hand from his, stunned, as he continued, his tone rising slightly, "I mean, what were you thinking? How could you do that to the group? How could you do that to Yale and Uly? How could you do that-"

Danziger halted mid-sentence, though it was obvious what he was going to say. How could you do that to me?

He let his unfinished question hang in the air for a number of seconds. "You put us through hell, lady," he stated hoarsely. "You should've said something. If you didn't feel that you could confide in me-- fine. But you should've told Julia or Yale or, or, I don't know, somebody. But no, you were just gonna let yourself die without even trying to fight. If I hadn't found you behind your tent, right now your son would be an orphan."

Devon had been completely unprepared for the turn in their conversation and was unsure how to respond. However, one thing that was becoming abundantly clear to her was that Danziger had been more profoundly affected by her near-death experience than he'd previously let on. And, unfortunately, the day's events had been the catalyst for reopening a painful wound that had never really begun to heal in the first place.

Devon's mind briefly flashed to the image of John when he'd placed her into the cryo-crypt after her collapse. Unable to look at her, he'd turned away, but not before she'd registered the grief reflected in his eyes. He'd appeared shattered, as though his heart was breaking into pieces.

And now, as Devon observed a similar expression of sorrow occupying Danziger's face, she decided that it was time for her to tell him the truth, even at the risk of making the situation worse than it already was.

She tentatively reached out and retook his hand. "You're right. I did hide my illness from you," she began. "In the beginning, I honestly didn't know that my sickness was different from yours. It wasn't until Elizabeth told us about the malfunction of the implants that I realized that I was suffering from something else."

She swallowed hard, a bit afraid to continue. "You see, I've always known about the existence of the bio-stat chips. I also knew that I didn't have one because, when I was a child, my father had used his clout to call in a favor from a high-ranking Council member to make sure that one wasn't implanted in me." She registered the look of astonishment on John's face at her disclosure. "It was one of the perks of being born an Adair, I guess," she acknowledged in a somewhat dispirited voice.

Despite how difficult it was for her to say the words aloud, Devon forced herself onward. "But if I'd told anyone about that then, Julia would have taken precious time away from trying to help the rest of you and worked on trying to find the source of my sickness. I couldn't let that happen. I had to think of the group."

She gazed downward at their joined hands and exhaled a sad sigh. "And after the virus had been purged and you were healthy again, I figured that it was too late to save me. So yes, I was going to let myself die. I didn't think that I had any other choice."

"Of course, you had a choice, Devon!" Danziger countered, his explosive reply causing her to jump in her seat. "You could've told us what was going on and let us try to help you! Jeez, you owed it to us to try your damnedest to stick around to see this thing through to New Pacifica. But what did you do, instead? You dumped your mission onto my shoulders. 'Keep going. Keep the group together. Take care of my kid.'"

He shook his head, gruffly adding, "You had no right to just give up like that. What you did was selfish, Adair, pure and simple."

The harshness of John's words cut her like a knife. But what hurt Devon even more was the realization of how much pain her actions had caused him. One of the reasons that she'd concealed her illness and impending death was to spare her friends and family from as much suffering as possible. But her fateful decision had had lasting consequences and, for the first time, she grasped the depth of the despair that Danziger had felt due to her sudden absence. And now, she also reevaluated the heavy burden that she'd placed on him when she'd extracted the promise from him to take command of Eden Project.

"Everything that you just said is true," Devon declared in a slightly quivering voice. "Hiding my sickness was selfish, although at the time I thought that I was doing the noble thing. What I did was unfair to everyone, especially to you. You didn't ask for any of this. You weren't even supposed to land on G889."

Danziger could see Devon's eyes begin to glisten with tears and he gently squeezed her hand in an effort to stop her confession. "Devon," he started, his tone subdued.

"Please. Let me finish," she implored, shaking her head. "I made you feel obligated to raise my son and to lead the group to New Pacifica. I also forced you into taking over the responsibility of building the colony in time for the arrival of the Syndrome families. It was wrong of me to put you in that position." Tears began to cascade down her cheeks. "I asked too much of you and I'm very sorry," she choked out.

Danziger was taken aback by Devon's words and her unusual display of emotion. This was the only time he'd ever witnessed her crying with the exception of when Uly had been abducted by the Terrians during their second day planetside. He didn't like seeing her this way, especially knowing that he had been the one who'd provoked her outburst. At that moment, John would have done anything to alleviate the pain that was clearly visible in her swollen eyes and heard in the heart-rending tone of her apology.

Great goin', Danziger bashed himself. You just had to go shooting your mouth off, again, didn't you? It's not like Devon doesn't have enough to worry about. And thanks to you and your stupid temper, she's crying. Worse than that, she's racked with guilt because you don't possess the ability to articulate your thoughts without your anger getting in the way. Now, you've turned this into a bigger misunderstanding than it already is.

John realized that he needed to set things straight, for both of their sakes. It was imperative that he make Devon understand once and for all how he felt about the decisions she'd made regarding her illness and her enormous expectations of him to carry on without her.

He eased his hand from hers and placed his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. She didn't resist the soothing gesture and encircled her arm around his waist. He could feel the vibration of her soft sobs as she laid her head against his chest.

Danziger's voice was low and gravely serious. "I want you to listen to me, okay? I was wrong when I said that you'd acted selfishly. I was never angry with you for asking me to take over as leader if you didn't make it. And don't think that you made me feel obligated to do it, either, because you didn't. Hell, I was downright honored that, out of everyone in Eden Advance, you trusted me enough to take charge of the group and to raise Uly."

John paused for a few seconds and Devon lifted her head to observe his features, still remaining within his gentle hold. Her tears of remorse were eclipsed by wonderment as she stared up at him, captivated by every word.

He continued, "And after we put you in cryo-sleep, your dream became my dream, too. Maybe it was already my dream before that. I dunno. Anyway, I swore to myself that, if Julia wasn't able to find a cure for you, I would do everything in my power to make sure that the colony was up and running by the time the Syndrome families got here."

Danziger held her powerful gaze and he reached up with his free hand to wipe a lagging tear from her cheek with a calloused thumb.

"I would do anything for you, Devon. I think you know that," he whispered, his voice brimming with emotion.

Danziger's hand ventured upward over her temple and then to her bangs. Devon shut her eyes as he delicately ran his fingers over her scalp, threading the shorter strands of hair back in with the rest of her auburn tresses. He leaned forward and tenderly kissed her forehead, carefully avoiding the darkly hued bruise.

"Don't you get it?" he said softly, his mouth remaining close enough that his lips nearly grazed her skin as he spoke. "This was never about you sticking me with your responsibilities. This is about almost losing a woman that I care very deeply about just because she was too damn pigheaded to admit that she was sick."

Devon's eyes were now wide-open as Danziger tilted back, sporting an earnest expression along with a slightly crooked grin. "So, don't ever do anything stupid like that again, okay?"

She matched John's smile with one of her own and let out a small laugh. "Don't worry. I've learned my lesson," she assured. She added with a healthy dose of playfulness in her voice, "And I promise that, if I ever start dying again, you'll be the first one that I tell."

His grin broadened. "All right, then. Good," he nodded. He tightened his grip around her waist and she returned his hug, nestling against him and resetting her head near the crook of his shoulder.

"So, does this mean that you aren't mad at me?" she inquired.

Danziger snorted loudly. "Haven't you listened to a single word that I've said?" he chided. "Yes, I'm mad at you, but not because you're a lousy driver."

Devon craned her neck back to gawk at him. "I am not a lousy driver," she quibbled, her annoyance only partially fabricated.

She could feel the rumble in John's chest as he chuckled. "Oh, yeah. I bet that koba just zipped out of nowhere. After all, they're known for their lightning speed," he teased. "I'm sure you had no choice but to almost get yourself killed by driving the 'Rail off a cliff instead of just going around it."

Devon couldn't help but snicker at his sarcastic remark. A small part of her wondered how she could ever have allowed herself to fall for such a smart-ass.

Eventually Devon and John's laughter subsided and the tense silence between them returned. However, this time, the stillness was considerably more uncomfortable than it had been before they'd cleared the air. Minutes before, the pair had sought out one another's arms with the purpose of giving each other support as well as to seek comfort for themselves. But now, as they sat together in the near-darkness, their embrace was turning into something else entirely as each desperately struggled to suppress their urge to touch the other more intimately.

Danziger's will power finally crumbled and, almost by its own volition, his hand began to roam up and down Devon's back, lightly tracing the curvature of her spine. Devon successfully suppressed a moan, but was unable to hold back a shudder at the gentleness of his caress.

Their gazes were locked and neither of them breathed as John edged forward with the intention of kissing her. However, he somehow managed to find the strength within himself to put a halt to the proceeding at the last possible moment. He pulled back slightly, searching Devon's eyes to make absolutely sure that this was what she wanted, too (after all, he didn't want to be later accused of taking advantage of a woman with a possible head injury).

Danziger's silent question was quickly answered. "Seize the day," she whispered as she tilted in the final few inches to cover his mouth with hers.

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