John Crichton did his best to stabilize himself in the weightlessness of space. Below him the flames of the exploding moon glowed brightly. Out of the corner of his eye he had seen Moya and the remainder of her crew starburst away. He hung on desperately to D'argo's arm as the big Luxan had gone limp and unconscious.

"Aeryn?"

"I'm still here, but I can't get to you!"

John could hear the desperation in her voice through the static in the radio in his helmet. He glanced around through the fogged up visor, hoping to catch sight of Aeryn's Prowler. She'd refused to leave with Moya and had put herself at even greater risk to try and save he and D'argo.

"It might not matter. D'argo's unconscious."

There was no reply from Aeryn, but John could imagine her frantically trying to figure out how to get to them without giving herself away and getting blasted out of the sky. The air in his suit was starting to get stale and he imagined he didn't have a great deal of time before he suffocated. Yet for some reason he was strangely calm. If there had been a greater purpose for him in the universe, maybe he'd found it out here in the uncharted territories. And even if he died in the next few minutes, he figured he at least done the best he could to stop the wrong he'd seen and to help others. For sure, he had regrets about not getting home and the pain he'd put his father and friends through, but they understood the risks better then anyone and he was sure they had made their peace with his death already. The more he thought about it the only regret he could think of was one he could take care of in the few minutes he had left.

"Aeryn?"

"I'm still trying to get to you John!" He could hear her voice crack as she said it.

"Aeryn. I need to tell you something, and I need you to listen closely as this may be the most important thing I've ever said to you. And let me clarify its not because I might die and not because I've got too much oxygen because based on how stale the air is in this suit, I clearly am running out."

He hesitated as he tried to find the right words.

"Aeryn I need you to know that I love you. I've known it for a while and I think I've tried to convince myself otherwise, but its true. I start my days thinking about you and go to sleep the same way. The moments I get to spend with you are the most important moments of my day and when I'm not with you I catch myself looking for a reason to go and find you. I know it sounds crazy, but I love it when you look like you want to clobber me, and I love it when I try and talk to you and you make me work like hell to get you to say anything."

"Dammit John! Not now!"

John started to laugh, but it turned into a cough as the air in his suit continued to run down.

"Aeryn I'm almost done here in more ways then one. Do you remember when we were caught in the Flax and I talked to you about heaven and what some humans believed happened after a person died?"

He didn't wait for a response.

"I wasn't sure what I really believed until now, but you helped me figure it out. I know without a doubt that there is a heaven because I've seen it in you."

He coughed again and fought a twinge of panic from the lack of air in his suit. Just as suddenly his eyes began to close and his world went dark. He lost his grip on D'argo and they began to drift away from each other. The radio crackled again in his headset, but John was already unconscious.

"I love you too John."

A Universe away Jack Crichton knelt at the grave of his wife. The warm Florida sun glowed in a high blue sky dotted with a few white clouds. Jack failed to notice the beauty of the day as he thought of the words he wished he could say to his late wife. His visits to her gravesite had been more frequent in the last year since John had been lost. The terrible irony of the situation hit Jack hard. He'd taken the most risks and he was still alive, while his wife who had manned the home front had succumbed to an illness she had no control over and his son had died trying to follow in his footsteps.

With a voice wracked with emotion and grief, Jack spoke to his wife.

"Honey, I'm so sorry that I wasn't there for you more when you needed me. I'm so sorry I didn't do a better job of looking out for John after you died. I don't know what to do anymore now that I've lost you both."

Trying hard to stifle the sobs that were trying to fight their way out, Jack continued.

"Do you remember how I forgot this day when we were first married? I was so wrapped up in pilot training that I completely missed it."

He tried to smile.

"I remember how hurt you were that I'd forgotten. I never missed another one in all the years after that right up until your death, and I haven't missed one since."

Reaching down, Jack Crichton placed one red rose on the grave of his Love. Standing up, he spoke once more.

"Happy Valentines Day."

Turning from the grave, he walked away, his loneliness washing over him like a wave.