SLEEPLESS NIGHTS
By
Paula Sanders
Timeline: After "Survival of the Fittest" (Day 117)
Author's E-Mail: paula.sanders@shawnee.org
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
I just found this in my files and I thought, in light of the recent mail list thread, about the Devon and Danziger relationship, I should post it. It takes place a short time after "Survival of the Fittest". The day number is just a guess. I can't be sure of the number of days covered in the episode (From my figuring it was about 20 some days). I had fun writing it. I hope you have fun reading it. Enjoy!This is a work of amatuer fiction not meant to infringe on any copyrights held by Amblin,Universal or anyone connected to _Earth 2_.
Sleepless Nights
by Paula Sanders copyright 1995Night 135 on planet G889
Devon Adair punched her pillow and scrunched it up between her chin and shoulder. This was going to be one of those nights. They had been occurring more frequently in the past few weeks. Lack of food, freezing cold, and being cooped up in the Biodome were all taking their toll on her. And she could not sleep. She had gone to ask Julia for a sedative but had been stopped at the entrance to the doctor's quarters, Julia was busy. Something much more entertaining was keeping her up. So, Devon had returned to her bed.
Every day was worse than the last and every morning that Devon had to look into the pallid complexions, hollow eyes, and sunken cheeks of the faces of her friends, brought her fear of starvation and guilt to the surface. She had brought them all here. She had not planned for things like this, never thought about delays or getting stopped when winter came and the food supply running out. They were supposed to have landed at New Pacifica, on the sea of Antius and had the colony at least started by now. Instead, they had crash landed 17000 kilometers away and now they were held up in a winter camp with barely enough food to see them through the next few days, let alone the months that this winter would probably last. How could she live with herself? If any of them died as a result of her stupidity and shortsightedness, how could she ever forgive herself?
Devon threw aside her blanket and swung her feet out of bed, sitting up. She looked across the tent at her son, snuggled into his bed, fast asleep. *How can I watch him die after all I did to save him?* she asked herself. The answer came quickly back. She knew she could not watch Uly die. She could not watch any of them die. But what could she do to stop it?
She could not sleep and could not sit here wallowing so she stood up and walked out into the Biodome, for a drink of water. Thanks to the compressors water was the only thing they could count on having enough of. She held the door as it closed to keep it from banging. It was quiet and dark in the dome.
As she poured a glass of water, she wondered if Yale was awake. She might talk to him. No, he would just pat her shoulder and tell her everything would work out, like he always did. That she did not need to hear, right now.
Devon began fussing with the things on the table; moving the gear around, rearranging the thermoses, the bowls, and cups. She could feel her muscles tensing and the beginnings of a headache at her temples. She was aware of her agitation but could do nothing to calm herself. It had always worked before to keep busy, but there was nothing for her to do. It was the middle of the night and everything had been done before they had all gone off to bed.
The sound of a door, which someone was trying to close quietly caught her attention.
*Someone to talk to.* she thought, relieved and turned around. John Danziger stood across the Biodome, hair hanging in his eyes, shirt hanging out, the ever present utility belt nowhere in sight, and his shoes off. The thought, *He never takes his shoes off,* flashed across her mind.
"Adair," he whispered, hoarsely. "What're you doin' up?" "I was about to ask you the same thing," she said. "I couldn't sleep."
"Me either," he said, as he crossed to her. He poured himself a glass of water and turning to her, took a sip from his cup. She could not see his eyes through all the curls. That disappointed her. His eyes, she had always thought, where his best feature. Just as she was thinking how nice it would be to dig her hands into his curls and get them away from his eyes, he did just that for her. She felt the irrational leap of her pulse when his eyes met hers. She hated that feeling.
"What's got you bothered?" he asked. She ignored the foolish voice in her head which wanted her to say, "You".
"I got thirsty," she told him, instead. "What has you up?" she asked.
"True, " he told her. "She's decided to learn how to snore. God awful racket." She laughed and he gave her a withering look. She immediately sobered.
"I'm sorry," Devon apologized. "Have you talked to Julia about it? There might be something wrong with True that could be treated."
"Yah, it's helping, but slowly," he said. Sympathy for the girl and John rose in Devon. True was a sweet girl and Devon knew what it was like to be the parent of a sick child. He must have recognized the worry in her eyes because he quickly said, "She'll be all right, it's just congestion."
Devon nodded, reassured and headed for the table. She was acutely aware of John's eyes on her as she tried to walk casually over to one of the tables. She was so tensed up, though, that she was walking funny.
"Are you sure there's nothing wrong, Devon?" he asked, taking the seat on the opposite side of the table from her. She opened her mouth to deny again but the words did not come out right.
"What was it like trapped out there with no food or water?" Devon asked, before she could stop herself. He stared at her surprised.
"Hell," he answered, honestly. "I never want to go through anything like that ever again."
"Well, you might have to," she stated, miserably. "You mean the food supplies." She nodded. "We haven't got enough to last us much longer than the next week or so. Then, what are we going to do?" She stared at the table top, as if the answers would all be laid out there. "We're going to die here. That's what were going to do." She looked up to see John staring at her, the funniest look on his face.
"Remember, Adair, cynicism is my job, optimism is yours. Don't horn in on my territory."
She could not help smiling.
"That's better," he told her.
The smile quickly turned to a frown. "Okay, Mr. Cynic. You tell me what we're going to do," she said, harshly."Survive," he stated, simply.
Her shoulders sagged and she sighed. "What, Adair? Did you expect me to tell you that we're all going to whither away from hunger, dying the most painful and drawn out deaths possible?" His eyebrows rose in a question and then fell. "Sorry to disappoint you." He stood up, she thought to leave."John, wait," she called, grasping at the empty air for him. He turned around. "Sorry," she said, letting her arm drop. "It's just." She could not make herself say it. Fear was such a simple word, but not a simple emotion. She interlaced her fingers, bringing the bridge of her nose to rest on her thumbs, trying to will her headache away.
"Devon, it's late, spit it out or let me go back to bed," he told her.
She turned her eyes up to his.
"I'm scared, John." She let the words fall out, surprised to find that looking him straight in the eye made them easier to say.He sighed and took the seat next to her, reaching out to take her hand, instinctively she drew it away. His eyes were apologetic but they held disappointment, as well. She felt sorry about pulling away from him, it was just an reflex reaction with her.
"You have every right to be scared, Devon," he said, leaning towards her. Sometimes he made her feel crowded, his personal space was so small, but not tonight. She needed that closeness, tonight.
"I'm scared, too," he admitted. "Scared of dying and leaving True all alone. Scared of watching her die of starvation. Scared for all of us. But that's what will keep us going. If there's one thing I learned out there, it's that the survival instinct is the strongest of all. We will find a way to survive, Devon," he assured her.
Devon reached out a hand and covered his. His hand gave hers a gentle squeeze. He smiled sympathetically and rose to leave, but she held onto his hand. He looked from her to their hands, confused.
"I don't want to be alone, tonight," she whispered, feeling just a little bit ridiculous.
"What about Uly?" he asked, his eyes pleading with her to let him go and she knew why. She let his hand drop and turned away.
"Devon," he said, after a long moment. "Listen, I. . . uh. . . I'd like to help, but," he stammered.
"But, that's asking too much of our friendship," she finished for him. She did not look up into his eyes, ashamed.
"Something like that," he answered. Devon felt an electric shock go through her at the look in his eyes. She quickly looked away, focusing on the door to her quarters.
"It's all right, John," she said and stood up. "I should get back to Uly." She crossed in front of him, staring down at their feet as she passed. She was so shocked when two strong hands grabbed her and she was pulled against Danziger that she yelped. She tried to pull away from him.
"Don't fight it, Devon," he said, his chin coming to rest on the top of her head.
His hold was not tight, she could have gotten free at any time, but she suddenly found she did not want to. She could not have stop her arms from coming up to encircle his torso even if she had wanted to. She felt him sigh and his grasp shift. She relaxed against him.
"Devon, you have to trust that everything will work out all right in the end."
She could feel his voice echo under her ear, against his chest. It comforted her, at the same time as it was making her heart race. She sensed her control over rational thought slipping away and fought against that loss. It would be so easy to loss herself in his arms, but she could not. She had to remain at a professional distance. But, damn, it was hard, with his arms wrapped around her and his measured breathing, somehow matching hers.
"You're beginning to sound like me," she said, teasingly. "And it's frightening, so stop it."
His chuckle vibrated against her. His hands moved to her shoulder and he leaned back to meet her gaze.
*Oh god, those eyes,* she thought, helplessly. Suddenly, the world narrowed down to those blue eyes and the desire which sparked in them. Her breath caught in her throat and her stomach turned upside down. There was a fine line between nausea and love and she saw that reflected back at her on his face.
*That was really stupid, Danziger,* he scolded. *You just had to take her in your arms. You couldn't let her walk away.*
John Danziger stared down at Devon Adair. She had that look in her eyes which meant either she was going to lose the contents of her stomach or kiss him. He'd chose the later. Actually, he would rather his hands would obey him and release their hold on her shoulders. Then, he could safely go back to his tent and pretend none of this had ever happened. But he could not ignore the desperation Devon was feeling and her need for compassion. She needed him, and he was determined to be there for her whenever she needed him, whether she wanted him there or not. His friendship was what she needed tonight, nothing more. Anything more would be wrong, right now.
*Would it be wrong?* an annoying voice in his head, asked. *Yes!* he threw back.
*But she came to you,* it reminded him. *Looking for someone to talk to,* he told it. *How can you be sure that is all she wants?* it taunted. *Shut up!* he screamed at it and it obeyed. "Devon, listen," he said, still unable to drop his hands from her shoulders. "Get some sleep. . ." She cut him off."That's what I was trying to do when I came out here," she said glumly. "It wasn't working."
He sighed and this time his hands did drop from her shoulder. Suddenly, he felt very empty, as if he were standing in the room alone. But she was still there in front of him. How was he going to get rid of her? *And why does she have to look at me that way?*
"Devon, I don't know what else to tell you," he said. She put her hands to her face and dragged them up and through her hair.
"Don't worry about it, Danziger," she told him, her hands slapping her thighs, as they came down. "I'll just go back to tossing and turning." She started for the door to the tent she shared with Uly, looking very pathetic.
John grasped her arm.
"Ow, John. Just let me go." She quickly pulled her arm away. Irrationally, he did not want to let her go. He knew he would not be able to sleep either, thinking about her lying awake fretting, just because he did not think he could behave himself. But he could not stay with her tonight. Devon was right she had to go back to Uly and he had to go back to staring at the ceiling, listening to True snore, and thinking about Devon. In a split second, the image implanted itself in his mind of Devon curled up next to him in bed. He could almost feel her soft curves nestled against him.*Oh man, you're in trouble, Danziger.* He realized that they were still standing and staring at each other. She could have turned and disappeared into her tent long ago but she had not. Why? She said she doesn't want to be alone.
"Why?" he asked and she looked at him, confused. "Why, what?" she asked. "Why should you let me go?" "No, why me?" he asked, bluntly.
She looked like he had just hit her in the stomach. "God, I don't know," she said. "You were here." She shifted uncomfortably and stared at the other side of the room, past him. When she was feeling brave enough to meet his gaze he met hers, letting her know, he did not believe that for a second."You could have gone to Yale," he said. "No, I knew what he would say and I didn't want to hear that." "Okay, then Julia," he offered.
Devon's cheeks went red all of a sudden. "I didn't want to disturb her," she managed to choke out. "Oh."
"Besides, like I said. You were here," she told him. "Just lucky I guess.""You call this luck."
"From a certain point of view, I suppose, yes." Right now, he could not decided which he wanted to do more; shake her or kiss her senseless. Mostly, he just wanted to bolt for the nearest exit and get the hell away from her before he did either. But his feet were glued to the floor.*Now, would be a good time,* he told his feet, but they weren't listening.
"From whose point of view?" he asked. He could see she was getting fired up.
"The table's," she growled, in frustration, just barely below a shout. She glanced around nervously, to see if anyone would come running to see what the racket was about. No one did.
"You know, you're a lot of help," she said, sarcastically, spun away from him and marched off to her tent. Her lips faintly tingled from an imaginary kiss. She placed her fingers over them, sighing, heavily.
*Get a grip, Adair," she snapped at herself. *Preferably on him.*
*Shut up!*-The End-
This text file was ran through PERL script made by Andy. Original text file is available in Andy's Earth 2 Fan Fiction Archive.