Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The second six months of Artemis IV were all consuming.

By the time the one year mark rolled around, every hour of the day seemed to be consumed by the mission.

The first signs appeared around month seven. Training days became longer, going from eight or nine hour days to ten and eventually twelve. Sometimes it was an extra meeting or a training session that ran over, other times it was additional training or extensive medical checks.

Gabby’s alarm still sounded at 4:45am each morning, she would get to the training centre by 5:50am, and training would begin at 6:00am on the dot. 

Dani would always remain asleep as Gabby left. Sometimes she’d make a sleepy noise when Gabby kissed her forehead goodbye, or she’d reach toward the warmth Gabby had left behind.

Gabby noticed each time, and it made leaving even harder.

The crew spent a significant portion of their time on the artificial lunar surface. The exercises that had once been simple navigation drills transformed into complex mission scenarios that lasted days at a time. 

Some days were spent training in anti-gravity conditions, equipped in full gear, other days they were outside in the artificial crater that had been dug next to the facility. The days outside were the hardest - they spent hours on end climbing in and out of the crater whilst carrying backpacks containing forty, sometimes sixty kilograms of weight. Her back and legs ached by the end of the day from the continuous strain.

The instructors began creating increasingly difficult challenges - equipment malfunctions, communication failures, medical emergencies and environmental hazards consumed Gabby’s mind.

The end goal was simple, though - if something could go wrong on the Moon, they wanted it to go wrong in training first.

By month eight, she was sick of the gym. 

Some weeks the crew spent more time training physically than they did sitting in conferences.

The workouts were brutal.

There was no other word for them.

The fatigue seemed to become part of her - part of all of them. It wasn’t completely debilitating, just a low level exhaustion that was constantly present.

Connor complained that his arms hurt, and the rest of the crew simply grunted in agreement.

“I don’t remember training being this intense last time,” Hanna choked out, dropping the medicine ball to the floor again.

“It wasn’t,” Luke shouted from across the gym, still jogging on the treadmill.

“Insightful Luke, thank you,” Hanna shouted back.

Luke shrugged as if to say ‘you asked’.

The simulations became more immersive by month nine. The crew spent days inside spacecraft mockups, navigating five people around nine cubic metres.

They worked on communication delays and signal errors, which had been a major issue on the Artemis II mission. They ran through every scenario possible - complete communication loss, backup generator failure, antenna breaks and repair. 

The spacecraft simulators became more realistic as the mission got closer. Once the simulation began, it became surprisingly easy to forget they were still on Earth. The crew would strap into their seats, put their headsets on, connect to mission control - and suddenly, they weren’t in Florida anymore, they were on their way to the Moon.

At least mentally.

The instructors controlled everything from another room so the crew never knew what was coming.

The toughest training days began perfectly normally - which should’ve been the first warning sign. 

Everything was running smoothly; the spacecraft systems looked good, communications were stable, life support was functioning perfectly, and the crew had worked through routine procedures. Hours passed and everyone seemed to relax slightly - which was exactly what the instructors wanted.

Then, every alarm in the spacecraft activated simultaneously. The sound was deafening.

Red warning lights flashed around the simulator, several displays suddenly went dark, a communications system failure appeared on one screen, and a power instability warning appeared on another. 

For a brief moment, the cabin exploded into noise.

The instructors later explained they wanted to simulate sensory overload - real emergencies rarely happened one problem at a time, so they wanted the crew to be able to function through the chaos of dozens of alerts occurring at the same time.

Gabby immediately switched into commander mode, her voice calm and deliberate.

“Everybody breathe,” she said calmly, “let's solve the problem.”

Luke began working on diagnostics, noticing that the backup power source had failed, and the initial power source was depleted. While he worked on reconnection, Hanna reconnected communications, adjusting the angle of the external antenna which had shifted 9 degrees to the left, causing the disconnection.

Connor restabilised the ship, similar to the orientation issues they’d had on the Artemis II. Jai recalibrated a motherboard that had slipped out of place - the likely cause of the major problems. Gabby focused on crew safety, making sure everyone remained calm despite the chaos. In space, there was no room to panic. If something was going wrong, it had to be solved otherwise they weren’t making it home.

The next thirty five minutes were exhausting. Every time they fixed something, another alarm went off. The exercise eventually ended with the crew successfully stabilizing the spacecraft. 

The instructors were pleased - the crew was not.

Then came the equipment failure simulations, which became progressively more difficult. Some days focused on obvious failures, others were deliberately subtle.

One exercise lasted nearly six hours before anyone realised something was wrong. They’d been conducting routine procedures around the ship when Gabby noticed a discrepancy in a systems reading. It was barely noticeable - a number that looked slightly wrong. Most people would’ve ignored it like the instructors had hoped. Instead, Gabby investigated deeper.

There was a slow leak in one of the oxygen tanks, not enough to trigger alarms or create immediate danger, but enough to become catastrophic if left undiscovered.

The exercise became a race against time. They spent the next fifteen minutes moving between procedures and cross referencing data to find a solution.

By the end, everyone was mentally exhausted.

Finally came the medical emergency training, which was somehow even more stressful.

The scenario began during a lunar surface operation where the crew navigated the artificial lunar landscape, collected samples and completed the mission objectives.

Then, Hanna suddenly collapsed.

The simulation controllers had instructed her beforehand - the rest of the crew knew nothing. One moment she was talking, the next she was on the ground.

Gabby remembered her stomach dropping despite knowing it wasn’t real, but the realism of it made instinct stronger than logic. They rushed into action immediately; vital signs, airway checks, medical procedures then communication back to Earth.

Every step had to happen correctly.

The exercise lasted nearly two hours, then Hanna sat up perfectly healthy.

The relief was immediate. Luke sighed, pulling his helmet and gloves off and almost throwing them. 

The second medical scenario involved Gabby herself. The instructors informed her beforehand - a simulated head injury, loss of consciousness and neurological symptoms. The details of the injury itself didn’t matter. What mattered was watching her crew respond without their commander to help.

The experience seemed like more of a trust building exercise than a medical one. It proved that they could function as intended.

“I would like to formally request an easier Moon,” Connor joked as the scenario ended. The rest of the crew attempted to laugh, but the reality of it being two in the morning, alongside the extreme fatigue made it difficult.

*

One evening, nearly a full year into training, the exhaustion finally caught up with her. The week had been relentless; three major simulations, physical training and surface operations exercises.

By Friday night she felt completely drained.

Rain fell steadily as she drove home, the windshield wipers moving rhythmically back and forth. Streetlights reflected across wet roads, and the city beyond the glass looked blurry and distant, though Gabby barely noticed.

Her hands felt heavy on the steering wheel. Her shoulders ached, the muscles in her back protested every movement. She couldn't remember the last time she’d been home before six. The realization lingered unpleasantly at the front of her mind.

She sat in the car for a moment after parking, not because she didn’t want to go inside, but because she was too tired to move. The dashboard lights illuminated the exhaustion written across her face; dark circles beneath her eyes and tension in her jaw. For a few moments she simply sat there listening to rain strike the roof, then she took a deep breath, grabbed her bag and headed inside.

The house felt warm immediately - illuminated by the soft yellow glow of the lamp in the living room while music played quietly somewhere nearby.

The atmosphere felt peaceful, the complete opposite of her week. It had been four days since she’d been home with Dani. The second the door closed behind her, some of the tension left her body. Not all of it, but enough. Her bag slipped from her shoulder, landing heavy beside the door.

Dani appeared at the sound of it. She smiled the moment she saw Gabby. Then the smile faded, replaced by concern because Gabby apparently looked as exhausted as she felt.

“Oh, honey.”

The words were soft.

Without saying anything, Gabby crossed the room. Dani met her halfway. The moment they reached each other, Gabby wrapped both arms around her desperately. It wasn’t graceful or elegant - it was the hug of someone running on empty.

Dani hugged her back, one hand sliding into her curls, the other settling on the small of her back. The familiar touch made Gabby’s eyes close. She felt safe. Warm.

Eventually, she buried her face deeper into the crook of Dani’s neck.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Dani frowned.

“Sorry for what?”

The question was gentle. Confused.

“I feel like I live at work,” she laughed weakly, without humour. “I leave before you’re awake, I get home after dark, and half the time I’m too tired to do anything when I am here.”

Dani’s expression softened, but Gabby wasn’t finished.

“I miss dinners, I miss evenings, I miss weekends together,” her eyes stung as she pulled back, “I miss you.”

Dani stared at her, then slowly reached up, both hands cupping her face and holding her attention. “Gabby.” The astronaut fell silent. Not Commander. Not Lewis. To Dani, she was simply Gabby. And that was enough.

Dani smiled again. “You know what I see?”

Gabby shook her head slightly while Dani’s thumbs brushed gently across her cheeks.

“I see someone who’s exhausted because she’s giving everything she has to chasing her dream,” she said quietly. Tears threatened unexpectedly behind Gabby’s eyes.

“And almost every night,” she whispered, “you still come home to me.”

Truth lingered within the words. No matter how late, how tired, or how difficult the day became, she always came home. To this house. To Dani. To the life waiting for her beyond the mission.

“You don’t need to apologize,” she said softly.

—

The rest of the evening unfolded at a pace that felt unfamiliar to Gabby. It was slow, quiet and unhurried. It was the first night in a year that she had relaxed completely.

There was always something to prepare for, which she felt guilty for not doing, but both her and Dani knew she would break if she worked any harder.

After their conversation in the hallway, Dani gently guided her toward the bedroom.

Not because she was being bossy - which was new for her - but because she knew Gabby, and she knew that Gabby would continue working until the early hours of the morning if she didn’t stop her.

The shower helped more than Gabby expected. The hot water pounded against her shoulders and upper back, easing muscles that had been tense for weeks. For several long minutes she stood there with her eyes closed, simply existing. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d allowed herself that luxury.

She emerged from their bedroom in an old East High t-shirt, the sleeves tight around her upper arms, but she didn’t mind because it smelled like Dani. 

Dani was moving around the kitchen when she appeared. She looked up and immediately smiled. “There you are.”

“There I am,” Gabby said, leaning against the doorway.

Dani studied her for a moment. The exhaustion was still obvious in the way her shoulder slumped, but she also looked more relaxed than she had when she walked through the door. 

Dinner passed quietly. Not silent, just peaceful. It was the kind of conversation that didn’t need to fill every moment.

The moment they settled on the couch, Gabby’s body seemed to make a decision. Instead of sitting upright beside Dani, she practically melted, ending up with her back pressed against Dani’s front and Dani’s arms wrapped around her. The position felt natural, as if she’d occupied that exact spot a thousand times before. She probably had.

One of Dani’s hands found its way into her damp curls, fingers slowly moving through her hair, tracing small paths along her scalp. The sensation nearly made Gabby fall asleep on the spot. A content sigh escaped before she could stop it.

“That good?” Dani smiled.

“Mhm.”

A very eloquent response.

An hour passed, maybe longer, and Gabby realized Dani was still running her fingers through her hair. Dani’s other hand drifted down to Gabby’s inner right forearm, nails tracing lightly over Gabby’s tattoo.

She’d got it after the first mission - the whole crew had. It was a few simple strokes.

ΛII

The Artemis II insignia.

The logo might not have meant a lot to anyone else, but it reminded her how grateful she was. She saw it every time she looked down when she was scribbling notes.

The repetitive motion was soothing. Gabby’s eyes drifted shut occasionally, opened again, then drifted shut once more. The exhaustion she’d been carrying for months was finally catching up to her now that she didn’t have the constant pressure of training keeping her upright, her body seemed determined to collect every missed hour of rest.

“I really missed this,” Gabby mumbled a while later. Dani looked down at the girl in her arms. “I know we’re together every day,” she continued, “but even when I’m here I don’t feel like I’m here.”

Dani leaned down and placed a gentle kiss into Gabby’s curls. Then another. And another. Until Gabby laughed softly. The sound felt strange in her chest like something she’d forgotten how to do.

For one night, she was simply Gabby, curled safely in Dani’s arms, exactly where she wanted to be.

*

Everyone could feel the pressure during the final month of training. The training facility carried a different atmosphere now.

There was still laughter. Still jokes. Still Connor complaining about early mornings and Hanna finding it endlessly amusing.

But beneath it all was focus. The instructors seemed sharper and the crew seemed more attentive. Every routine task carried extra significance - nothing felt routine about it anymore. This was the last opportunity to identify weaknesses and make mistakes without risk.

Gabby noticed it in herself too. She found herself reviewing procedures late into the evening, double checking notes she’d checked three times already. Not because anyone asked her to, but because the responsibility weighed even more now. The patch sat heavy on her chest now. ‘Commander Gabrielle Lewis’ written in gold underneath the golden wings. 

The final medical evaluations occupied nearly an entire week. 

The medical wing of the facility was quieter than the rest of the complex. The hallways gleamed under fluorescent lights and the scent of disinfectant lingered faintly in the air.

Gabby sat in the waiting area beside the rest of the crew. Nobody spoke much - there wasn’t a lot left to say - they simply waited their turn for confirmation that their bodies were ready to fly.

The examinations were far more extensive than any other physicals they’d completed.

Vision testing alone took hours. The crew moved through a series of rooms where specialists evaluated eyesight in meticulous detail; distance vision, near vision, peripheral vision, depth perception, colour recognition and retinal scans.

When cardiovascular testing began, the gym felt far less friendly. All sorts of medical equipment was attached - electrodes and sensors to monitor heart rhythm, blood pressure, oxygen levels and recovery rates.

The crew spent hours running on treadmills and riding stationary bikes while doctors watched data streams appear on monitors.

Gabby’s breathing became heavy.

Her leg muscles burned.

Yet the medical staff remained. entirely focused on numbers, data and performance.

“I think I’m dying,” Connor declared while panting.

“Your numbers suggest otherwise,” the physician replied.

The entire room laughed.

The most unpleasant portion involved bloodwork. An extraordinary amount of bloodwork. Vials seemed to multiply endlessly. Test after test. Sample after sample.

Every possible marker of health was reviewed until Gabby felt like she’d been stabbed with a thousand needles. She probably had.

Neurological evaluations followed bloodwork.

This consisted of reaction times, memory testing, attention measurements and cognitive testing. The examination lasted hours. Gabby found herself sitting before screens performing increasingly complicated tasks while specialists observed.

When the medical week finally ended, every member of the crew was relieved.

The results arrived several days later with the outcome everyone had hoped for.

All five astronauts were cleared.

Flight ready.

—

The final month also introduced the most advanced lunar sampling training the crew had ever experienced.

The training facility’s artificial lunar landscape became their second home.

Again.

Only this time, everything felt more realistic than ever. The terrain stretched beneath enormous overhead lighting systems designed to replicate lunar illumination. Long shadows crossed grey dust, artificial craters interrupted the landscape, and the environment felt increasingly more convincing.

Hanna was the only crew member with a geological and geographical background. Connor was a former Air Force Colonel, Luke had a PhD in mathematics, and Jai had a PhD in physics.

The geological instructors treated every exercise seriously. Time on the Moon was very limited, so every sample mattered. 

The crew spent hours learning how to identify valuable specimens quickly - different rock types, impact materials, volcanic formations. The Moon contained billions of years of history, so the astronauts needed to recognise it efficiently.

Gabby often found herself kneeling in the grey dust beside Hanna or Jai, examining rocks while instructors observed.

The most memorable afternoon of the whole training program was the complete simulated moonwalk from start to finish.

They’d decided as a crew that Hanna and Gabby would be the pair to do the moonwalk - Hanna was the most knowledgeable about the terrain, and they deemed it necessary for Gabby to join her as commander.

The moonwalk began with navigation from the ship onto the lunar surface. Then came sample collection and documentation, followed by equipment deployment. 

The task lasted nearly seven hours.

By the end, dust coated almost every surface. Yet nobody complained - not even Connor. 

—

When she arrived home that evening, she wasn't carrying training materials. There were no thick binders, notebooks or procedure manuals - only herself. Even her bag remained in her car that evening.

As she stepped through the door, she saw Dani curled on the couch, deep into a book.

Dani sat beneath a thick blanket with a book resting open in her lap, reading glasses sitting low on her nose. One leg was tucked beneath her, the other stretched out beneath the blanket.

It was a picture of comfort. The picture of home.

For just a moment, she stopped and took in the sight.

It felt precious suddenly, because in a week, she wouldn't be able to come home and see this. Not for a long time, really. Not properly.

Dani eventually looked up from her book. The second she saw Gabby, she smiled. Gabby smiled back - a tired smile, but a smile nonetheless. “Hey,” Gabby said, kicking her shoes off by the door.

Dani's expression shifted. It wasn't dramatic, but it was noticeable. Because she knew Gabby too well. She knew the difference between when she was tired and when she felt troubled, and the difference between exhaustion and worry.

Tonight was definitely worry.

Dani quietly closed her book, placed it on the coffee table, and held out one hand. Nothing more, just a simple invitation. Gabby moved immediately. The couch dipped slightly beneath her weight. The second she sat down, she leaned into Dani. Not because she planned to, but because it felt natural. Necessary.

Gabby relaxed into Dani’s touch. 

“Quarantine starts next week,” she said, the words emerging quietly. Dani didn't respond straight away, which Gabby was grateful for. Instead, her arm tightened around Gabby's shoulders - a silent acknowledgment that said ‘I’m listening… Take your time.'

“We got the final schedule today,” she continued quietly, “two weeks of quarantine before launch, then thirty one days in space, then three weeks of medical quarantine after splashdown.”

The numbers hung heavy in the room. Nine weeks and three days minimum.

Dani spoke after a while. “When did they confirm it?”

“This morning.”

“And you’ve been thinking about it ever since.”

Gabby laughed so. It was more of a statement than a question.

“Maybe…”

Dani raised an eyebrow.

“Okay. Yeah, I have.”

Gabby shifted slightly, turning so she could look at Dani properly. The sight nearly undid her. Dani looked sad. Not devastated. Not crying. Just sad.

The first quarantine had been hard - it was the longest they’d been apart since they’d moved in together. But that was a two week quarantine, ten days in space and minimal quarantining afterwards. Four weeks tops.

Dani reached for her hand. “I know I say this so much that it probably has little meaning now,” she began, “but I am so unbelievably proud of you.”

Her voice trembled slightly.

“I still hate that you’re leaving,” she admitted, “I know I encourage you to go, and I will continue doing that, but it’s so hard to watch you walk out of that door and not know if you're going to come home.”

Tears began to build in both of their eyes.

“And as proud as I am that you're Commander, you're still just Gabby to me, and that's more than enough.”

Long after the conversation had ended, when the house grew darker, Gabby eventually ended up stretched across the couch with her head resting in Dani’s lap.

“What are you thinking about?” Dani said after a while, fingers combing gently through Gabby's curls.

Gabby opened her eyes, looked up at her, and answered honestly.

“Coming home.”

“I’ll still be here when you get back,” Dani nodded, “don't not enjoy space because you’re worried about me.”

*

Dani’s words lingered in Gabby's mind throughout the quarantine.

She’d found an old, half closed off portion of the quarantine sector that she spent a considerable amount of time in. It was quiet, even blocking out the whirring of the AC. It also gave her space to breathe and think without someone asking her a million questions every time she moved.

It was an unused observation room at the end of the corridor. The interior was simple - two arm chairs, a small wooden table, and a stack of books that hadn't been touched in a decade.

Hanna found her spot eventually, leaning against the doorway without knocking. “Everyone’s looking for you,” she said calmly. It wasn't a request. It wasn't angry. It was plain old Hanna.

“How did you find me?”

“Gabby,” Hanna laughed, “I’ve been looking for like twenty minutes.”

“Why?”

“Because Connor thinks you've been kidnapped,” Hanna said, completely seriously. “Then he decided you were hiding.”

“He was right,” Gabby groaned softly.

Hanna smiled victoriously, then crossed the room and dropped into the chair beside her. 

“Are you having another existential crisis?” Hanna asked, half as a joke.

“When am I not,” Gabby laughed a humourless laugh. She knew Hanna’s question was serious, because Hanna was the only person other than Dani who could read Gabby like a book.

“What are you thinking about?” Hanna asked.

Gabby didn't answer straight away. There wasn't one simple thing, there were hundreds. It felt like a tangled knot of worries that she couldn't separate anymore. Eventually, she settled on the simplest answer.

“Everything.”

Hanna nodded, as though she'd expected that.

“The mission?”

Gabby nodded.

“Dani?”

Another nod.

“The possibility of being stranded somewhere between Earth and the Moon?”

Gabby froze at the question. Her gaze drifted anywhere except Hanna. Being stranded was the one thing she'd tried not to think about too hard, but now it had been spoken aloud.

“I know it's irrational-”

“No,” Hanna cut her off, “we’re astronauts. We’re going to the Moon. The possibility exists.”

“I just-”

“The possibility exists,” Hanna repeated. “Just like the possibility of getting struck by lightning, or a meteor hitting this building, or Connor actually being quiet for once”

Gabby laughed despite herself.

“The problem isn't that you're thinking about risks,” Hanna continued, “the problem is that you're thinking about them without stopping.”

Gabby looked away again. As much as it pained her to admit, Hanna was always right.

“And if something does go wrong?” Gabby asked sincerely.

“Then we’ll handle it.”

The answer came without hesitation. Gabby relaxed at her words, sinking slightly deeper in her chair.

—

The night before launch was oddly peaceful.

Well, as peaceful as a NASA facility could get.

Gabby found herself wishing time would slow down just a little. The evening schedule had ended several hours ago, and the crew had completed their final briefings.

Now, there was nothing left to do except rest.

Gabby had tried - she really had. She’d spent nearly twenty minutes lying on her bed staring at the ceiling, followed by another ten sitting at the desk pretending to read, then fifteen more pacing around her room. Eventually, she’d given up. Now, she sat curled into the corner of the small couch beside the window, one knee drawn up to her chest, and a blanket draped loosely across her lap.

The room around her was painfully quiet. 

She stared out of the small window; floodlights illuminating empty sidewalks and patches of grass below. Beyond that, the night stretched endlessly - the sky was unusually clear, thousands of stars scattered across it. 

Gabby found herself staring at them.

Her phone sat beside her, face down and silent. She knew exactly when the call was scheduled. The knowledge had followed her through every meeting.One final chance to hear Dani’s voice. The thought made her chest ache - not enough to stop her functioning, but like a bruise she couldn’t stop pressing.

She thought about the nights she’d gone home and found Dani waiting. They’d eaten dinner together, watched movies and fallen asleep beside each other.

Now, home felt unimaginably far away. 

The phone rang, the sound pulling her from her thoughts. 

Her heart jumped, which felt ridiculous. She was a veteran astronaut. A mission commander. A woman who had flown around the Moon. Yet somehow a phone call made her nervous.

The screen lit up.

Dani.

Just her name - nothing more.

She swallowed hard, then accepted the call.

The video connected. For a brief moment, the screen flickered. Then Dani appeared. 

“Hey Commander,” Dani teased. Gabby blushed at the nickname. It felt different when Dani said it - it didn’t hold the same weight as it did when her crew called her ‘Commander.’

They spent several seconds simply looking at each other. When Dani noticed the way Gabby was staring, a small smile appeared. “What?” she asked softly.

“Nothing,” Gabby shook her head.

“Liar.”

The familiar teasing eased some of the tension sitting between them.

“You look tired,” Dani said, studying the girl through the screen. 

“Well today contained about twelve years of meetings,” Gabby laughed.

“Twelve years?”

“Maybe thirteen.”

The conversation felt easy. Natural.

Dani acknowledged it first.

“Nervous?”

“No,” Gabby answered immediately. The response came so quickly that Dani burst out laughing. Gabby knew she was caught, the look on Dani’s face made that obvious.

“What?”

“That was the fastest lie I’ve ever heard,” Dani laughed.

“That wasn’t a lie.”

“Gabby.”

“A partial lie.”

Dani smiled as Gabby rubbed her face, sighing dramatically.

“Fine.”

Gabby found herself looking out the window again, watching the stars blink brighter. The Moon had appeared now, and her thoughts drifted back to tomorrow.

“Gab.”

The nickname caught her attention. Dani was watching her with concern now. The joking had faded, the smiles remained, but there was something else now too. Understanding.

“What is it?” Dani asked.

It was a simple question. Simple but dangerous. Because Dani wasn’t asking about the mission or the launch - she was asking about her. And suddenly Gabby wasn’t sure she could keep pretending. She’d been acting fine around everyone because she was the commander, so her confidence mattered.

Dani wanted Gabby.

Not Commander Lewis.

Just Gabby.

And Gabby was struggling.

“I want you to tell me not to go.”

The words seemed to fill the room, the silence feeling enormous. 

“I know.”

Two simple words, yet hearing them made Gabby’s eyes sting. She laughed softly, mostly because crying would have been far more embarrassing.

“I know I’ll come back,” Gabby said quietly, “but I still hate leaving.”

“I know,” Dani repeated. “You still have to go.”

Gabby laughed despite herself. “Don’t support me right now, I’m trying to be sad.”

The conversation continued for nearly an hour, becoming increasingly obvious that neither wanted it to end. They talked about everything. The house. The crew. The mission. Hanna looking after Gabby when Dani couldn’t - which Dani appreciated greatly. They talked about the star certificate hanging on the living room wall inscribed with Dani’s name. The future. Gabby coming home.

Eventually, though, time won. It always did. The clock crept later and the launch morning crept closer. 

Finally, Dani took a breath and smiled a beautiful, heartbreaking smile. Full of love, and pride, and fear she was trying very hard not to show.

“Good luck tomorrow,” she said gently, “I’ll be there watching.”

Gabby nodded once.

“I love you,” Gabby said, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I love you too,” the answer came instantly. 

When the call ended several minutes later, Gabby remained exactly where she was, a dark screen reflecting her face back at her. She was excited for tomorrow, sure, but as she sat alone in the dim light of her quarantine room blinking away tears she hadn’t wanted Dani to see, she found herself holding onto one thought above all others.

Not the launch. Not the Moon. Not the mission.

Coming home to Dani.

☾

Dani barely slept.

She lay in bed for hours staring into the darkness, listening to the distant hum of air conditioning and watching the red numbers of the bedside clock crawl forward minute by minute.

Every time she closed her eyes, she pictured the rocket. The launch pad. Gabby. The countdown.

Eventually, she gave up sleeping entirely.

At 3:47am, she sat up.

By 4:00, she was standing by the window looking out across the nightlife that still radiated through the city. The sky was still black, only illuminated by scattered stars dotted beyond the horizon.

Somewhere out there, beyond the darkness, Kennedy Space Centre was awake. Thousands of people were already working, and among them, somewhere inside the crew quarters, Gabby was getting ready.

The drive to the viewing area felt surreal. The roads were busy despite the hour; headlights stretched ahead in long lines. Families, journalists, NASA employees. Everyone moving towards the same destination, hoping to witness history.

The sky gradually lightened as dawn approached - not enough to see the sun, but enough to turn the horizon a deep blue-grey. 

As she parked and exited her car, the familiar Florida humidity curled loose strands of her hair. She barely noticed. Her attention was entirely fixed on the rocket ahead of her in Launch Complex 39B.

The Artemis IV rocket stood against the slowly brightening sky.

Massive.

Impossibly massive.

Somehow even bigger than the Artemis II rocket had been.

The viewing area buzzed with quiet conversation. People wrapped themselves in jackets against the early morning breeze, children sat on parents shoulders, and cameras pointed towards the launch pad.

Dani felt strangely disconnected from it all.

She stood beside Luke’s dad and Hanna’s moms. She could see the fear in their eyes too - fear that only the astronauts' families could experience. No one else on the viewing platform could understand how personal it was. Because everyone around her saw a mission. She saw Gabby.

The giant screens positioned around the viewing site displayed live footage from inside crew quarters. 

Dani’s heart began racing as the crew appeared one by one.

Luke.

Connor.

Jai.

Hanna.

Then, Gabby.

The sight of her nearly brought tears to Dani’s eyes.

Gabby wore her launch suit; bright, pristine, and covered in mission patches. Her dark curls were secured neatly back. Her expression was calm. Composed. Professional.

Commander Lewis.

Dani noticed the tension around her eyes and the slight tightness in her smile. It was small but noticeable. 

As the launch countdown entered its final minutes, the atmosphere changed completely. Small conversations faded to silence as everyone waited - thousands of eyes fixed on the launch pad.

Dani’s heart hammered painfully. She clasped her hands together tightly.

The giant countdown clock continued ticking downward.

Five minutes.

Four.

Three.

Every second that passed felt louder than the rest.

Dani’s palms were sweaty, her breathing shallow. She couldn’t help but picture Gabby inside the spacecraft, strapped into her seat, running through procedures and listening to mission control. Waiting.

The final minute arrived. 

The crowd grew completely silent.

Thirty seconds.

Twenty.

Ten.

Dani felt tears forming in her eyes, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. Her body was overwhelmed by all the emotion.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Ignition.

Then the world exploded into light - an enormous orange-white flame erupted beneath the rocket. The launch pad vanished beneath the fire, and the entire horizon seemed to glow.

The crowd erupted when the rocket began to move.

Dani could barely hear any of it, because she couldn’t stop staring. She blinked away the tears in her eyes, watching the vehicle climb higher and higher, growing smaller.

The drive home was even quieter than the drive there.

She clicked the radio off as soon as she turned the vehicle on, opting to be alone with her thoughts instead.

Although Gabby hadn’t been home for two weeks, the house still felt emptier when closed the door. Gabby’s portrait hung on the wall beside the door - her orange space suit bright against the pale blue background, the American flag hanging behind her, and her commander patch in bright gold across her chest. Gabby had tried to hide it the day she brought it home, but Dani had insisted on hanging it there.

Beside that was a picture taken long before the Artemis II launch. The photo showed Dani sitting on a blanket beneath the stars, laughing at something outside the frame, head tilted back slightly. The photograph captured a moment so genuine that anyone looking at it could practically hear the laughter. Gabby loved that picture so much that it had been her phone wallpaper since it was taken. 

In the living room, there was a picture of the pair at Gina and Ricky’s wedding. Dani wore a dark Red dress, and Gabby was unable to stop staring at her even while the photograph was being taken.

One of Dani’s favourites sat on her bedside table. The photograph itself wasn’t particularly special, at least not to anyone else. It had been taken in their kitchen on an ordinary Sunday morning. Gabby stood at the stove, attempting to make pancakes. In one hand, she had a spatula. The other hand pointed accusingly towards Dani behind the camera. The photograph was slightly blurry, poorly framed and objectively terrible. Dani absolutely adored it.

Gabby's office contained more mission related photographs than any other room. Not because Gabby had chosen them - because Dani had. There was a photograph from the Artemis II launch day. Another one of the spacecraft orbiting the Moon. There was a frame full of Gabby’s space patches - ISS, 100 days in space, 200 days in space, Artemis II, Mach 39, Artemis IV.

The first three patches came before Dani had met Gabby. The initial 6 month expedition became 7 months on board the International Space Station, logging 213 days in space. Then, the Artemis II patch. The biggest mission of her career at that point. 10 days in space, travelling around the far side of the Moon - the furthest humans had ever been. Then there was the Mach 39 - the extreme velocity of the Orion spacecraft during Earth re-entry, 39 times the speed of sound. Finally, the Artemis IV patch. Today's mission.

There was a small gap on the wall filled with an empty frame. Dani had placed it there weeks before the launch. It waited for a photo of Gabby on the Moon. 

—

The first five days after launch blurred together. 

The house had felt strange from the moment she returned from Kennedy Space Centre. When she entered the kitchen on the first morning after launch, she found herself reaching for two mugs. She’d done it the whole time Gabby was in quarantine too - pure habit after years of routine. Her hand pauses halfway through the cupboard, leaving the second mug untouched. 

She checked the mission status before she even took her first sip of coffee. Every morning. Without fail.

The living room ended up becoming her own mission headquarters; blankets accumulated on the couch, mission schedules sat scattered across the coffee table, and a notebook containing dates and times.

The television rarely switched off - NASA coverage played almost constantly. When broadcasts ended, recorded segments filled the gaps. When those ended, Dani found another stream or another interview to keep herself occupied. 

The crew appeared on camera several times each day. Sometimes it was only briefly passing by the camera, other times they would give verbal updates on their progress.

Dani watched Gabby absentmindedly rubbing the back of her neck while reading procedures. She noticed the way Gabby floated with her arms folded when listening to someone else speak, and the way her curls drifted weightlessly around her face.

On day two, the crew participated in a longer broadcast.

Questions from schools.

Questions from journalists.

The crew answered with smiles while floating through the cabin. 

The broadcast lasted nearly forty five minutes. Dani watched every second, then watched it again later. One particular moment stayed with her - a child had asked what the crew missed most about Earth. Connor said real coffee. Luke said gravity. Hanna said fresh air. Jai said proper showers.

Then the camera panned toward Gabby. The commander smiled and said “my girlfriend.” The answer lasted barely two seconds, yet it reminded Dani she wasn’t the only one counting the days.

☾

Day six began with the Moon filling every window bar one.

The docking maneuver into lunar orbit had gone perfectly, and the spacecraft now sat beside the Moon.

The crew spent most of the day working. They had three days of lunar orbit before the lunar surface descent. Gabby spent the better part of her day monitoring systems and reviewing the landing procedures.

That afternoon's live stream had been one of the missions most watched broadcasts. The docking had been a crucial part of the mission - if they docked in the wrong area - or too far from the Moon - the mission would fail. 

Hours after the broadcast had ended, when the spacecraft had grown quieter, Gabby floated through the central module toward the only observation that had Earth in its view. It was the place she'd retreated whenever she needed space to think. She’d spent countless hours there during Artemis II.

She stared out of the window for a long time. Minutes passed, maybe longer - time behaved strangely in space.

Eventually, her hand drifted toward a small storage compartment beside the observation area. The compartment opened with a soft click. Inside sat mission notes, a few photographs, and personal items. There was only one personal item she reached for though - a small, black box.

Carefully, she removed it. 

The black velvet looked almost blue beneath the cabinet lighting; small enough to fit comfortably in her palm, light enough to float if she let go. For several moments, she simply held it. Turning it over. Running her thumb across the fabric.

Gabby smiled softly, then opened the box.

The ring caught the light instantly - a delicate diamond set mounted on a slender golden band.

For a long time she simply stared. The Moon drifted silently outside, the mission continued, yet for a few precious minutes none of that mattered.

She imagined home; movie nights, morning coffee, and the couch Dani inevitably fell asleep on. She thought about landing, post mission quarantine, paperwork, and finally - coming home. The image appeared so vividly it almost felt like she was living in it - Dani running towards her after the quarantine, holding her after nine weeks apart.

Then came the proposal. She’d rehearsed the moment countless times. The words changed every time. The feelings never did.

“What’ve you got there?”

Gabby nearly dropped the ring.

Her entire body jerked, and she snapped the velvet box shut instantly. Heart racing, pulse pounding. She spun around so fast she accidentally pushed herself away from the window.

Hanna floated in the entrance of the observation area, one hand hooked around a support rail, and a shit-eating grin on her face.

For several seconds, neither of them spoke.

Then, slowly, Hanna raised an eyebrow.

“Oh.”

Gabby groaned. 

“Oh.”

Hanna repeated, longer this time.

“No,” Gabby said, already losing.

Hanna’s eyes locked onto the velvet box still in Gabby’s hands. And Hanna was far too intelligent to not figure out what it was. Her grin disappeared slightly and the teasing softened.

“Wait…” the word emerged quietly now. “Genuinely?”

Gabby looked down at the box, then back at Hanna and simply nodded.

“No way.”

The response wasn’t loud - it didn’t need to be - but the emotion behind it filled the entire cabin. Very slowly, Gabby reopened the box, the ring sparkling beneath the cabin lights.

“Oh, Gab.”

“I bought it months ago.”

“Of course you did.”

“I was going to propose before launch.”

Hanna nodded, understanding immediately. “But?”

Gabby looked out at the Earth, then smiled.

“I wanted to come home first.”

Hanna studied the girl for a moment, then looked back at the ring.

“She’s going to say yes.”

Gabby laughed - a genuine laugh this time.

“You sound very confident.”

“I am,” Hanna said with full sincerity. She’d only met Dani a handful of times, but she could tell how deeply in love with each other they were. She saw the way Dani looked at Gabby. She heard the way Gabby talked about Dani. In Hanna’s mind - there wasn’t a single doubt. 

“She looks at you like you hung the stars, Gab,” Hanna said softly. Gabby smiled at the words. She knew Hanna was right, she didn’t have anything to worry about.

*

The morning of lunar descent, the usual joking between the crew members had faded into concentrated professionalism. Nobody seemed nervous exactly, but everyone understood the significance of the day.

The first humans on the Moon in sixty years.

Gabby sat strapped into her seat inside the lunar lander. Across from her sat Hanna - clad in the same bulky suit Gabby was. Displays glowed softly around them, specimen collection bags sat inside a cupboard to Hanna’s left. This was really happening.

Luke, Connor and Jai remained aboard the orbital spacecraft, their voices occasionally crackling through the communication system.

“Systems green,” Luke’s voice echoed through their headsets.

“Copy,” Gabby replied, calm and steady - years of experience condensed into a simple word.

The lander detached with barely any sensation. No dramatic jolt or sudden movement, just a series of indicators changing on the display and the soft hiss of compressed air leaving the enclosed space between the main ship and the lander.

The Moon filled every window now; grey, silent and endless. 

For nearly an hour, Gabby and Hanna worked through procedures. Hanna cross checked data while Gabby monitored systems, calling out numbers. Every movement had been practiced hundreds of times before. Every word felt familiar.

Dust exploded out beneath the engines as the lander approached the Moon’s surface, leaving the girls’ view partially obstructed. Grey clouds billowed across the surface, visibility dropped, then improved, then dropped again. Gabby's hands remained steady on the controls. Her heartbeat did not.

“Altitude twenty metres,” Hanna called out.

“Copy.”

“Fifteen.”

“Copy.”

“Ten.”

The surface appeared impossibly close. Gabby could see the dark shadow of the lander contrasting against the pale grey of the Moon.

“Five.”

Dust surged around them.

“Three.”

The lander settled - a slight bump, a tiny shift, then stillness. Complete stillness. A green indicator illuminated on the control panel. Landing confirmed.

Hanna looked across the cockpit. Gabby looked back. Neither could stop smiling.

“We’re on the Moon!” Gabby laughed.

—

The first deployment came several hours later.

It was a painstakingly long process - suit checks, internal pressure checks, equipment checks. Each check was followed by another check. And then another.

When the hatch finally opened, sunlight flooded into the airlock; harsh, unfiltered and bright.

Gabby descended first. The ladder felt oddly familiar after climbing up and down it during training simulations. The final rung passed beneath her boots, then her foot touched lunar soil. The grey dust compressed beneath her weight - fine as powder, undisturbed for millions of years. The landscape stretched endlessly ahead of her, completely still.

The isolation was overwhelming.

Just her and Hanna. On the Moon.

The work began soon after. They travelled around the terrain using lunar rovers, the vehicles bouncing gently across the uneven surface, disrupting the dust beneath them. Everywhere they looked revealed something extraordinary - ancient volcanic formations, layered rock deposits, and regions untouched by human presence. 

Even after several days had passed, Gabby found herself still thinking: I’m on the Moon. 

The sample collection itself was meticulous. Every rock was catalogued, every location documented in detail, every specimen photographed before removal. Some samples came from crater walls, others from boulder fields. 

Everything ran smoothly until day five.

The pair were nearly three kilometres from the lander, working beside the rim of a small impact crater. The terrain was rough, steep and littered with loose rocks. The objective was the same as the previous four days; collect samples from an exposed geological layer, document the site, then return to the lander. A simple task they'd completed probably a thousand times so far.

Gabby’ voice suddenly cut across the radio.

“Tether snag.”

Hanna turned. One of Gabby’s equipment lines had caught beneath a sharp rock formation. Normally, it wouldn't have been a major issue, until she tried to free it. The rock shifted and a cascade of debris followed. Gabby stumbled backward, the low gravity turning the stumble into an awkward leap. She landed hard against the slope.

The impact wasn't severe, yet several warning signs appeared.

“Hanna,” Gabby said, voice remaining controlled.

“What happened?”

Then Connor’s voice crackled through their headsets. “Is Gabby okay? Her vitals have dropped to zero.”

“Suit telemetry glitch,” Gabby announced, hearing Connor sigh in relief on the other end. It was damaged but it was repairable.

Hanna remained by Gabby’s side, using the resources they had with them to recalibrate the failed component. Several agonising minutes later, the warnings disappeared. 

“Next time,” Luke said over the radio, “try not to break anything.”

“You should’ve seen the other guy,” Gabby laughed, easing the tension.

☾

Dani’s heart sank slightly when the commentary team went silent halfway through a sentence.

It wasn't a dramatic pause, but it was abrupt enough to know something was wrong.

On the screen, nothing appeared different. The orbital spacecraft remained visible. Connor floated near a workstation, Luke reviewed something on a screen and Jai disappeared into another module.

Normal. Completely normal.

Yet something felt wrong.

“We appear to be seeing some unexpected telemetry from the surface team,” one of the commentators said gently.

Dani sat bolt upright.

Unexpected telemetry.

The broadcast switched to a mission data graphic. Numbers. Readouts. Crew telemetry. Information intended for public viewing - nothing classified or overly detailed, just enough to show the crew!s condition.

Dani's eyes found Gabby’s name. 

For a second, she didn't understand what she was looking at.

The numbers beside Gabby's name were dropping rapidly. A warning symbol appeared as her heart rate fell. And then-

Zero.

The world seemed to stop.

The number remained on the screen, bright and impossible. Her brain refused to process it. Wouldn't process it. Couldn’t.

On the television, the commentators had gone silent - not completely, but close enough to invoke worry, their professional confidence replaced by uncertainty.

The mission graphic remained on the screen.

And beside Gabby’s name.

Zero.

Connor appeared on the screen then, pushing himself toward a communications console. Fast. Faster than normal. Luke appeared moments later. Then Jai. Three astronauts gathered around a display, talking, focused.

Fear exploded within Dani’s chest at the worry on their faces.

“We should emphasize that we do not yet know the cause of the telemetry interruption,” the commentator continued. Dani couldn't focus on his voice. The number floated around her head. Zero. 

Zero. 

Nobody could see Gabby. Nobody could see Hanna. The surface feed wasn't public. There were no cameras showing the landing sight, meaning no confirmation or answers. Just agonising silence. Minutes that felt like hours. 

Dani stood motionless in front of the screen, hands shaking, heart hammering painfully against her ribs.

Then the warning symbol vanished. 

One telemetry channel restored. Then another. Then another. Heart rate appeared then. Not zero. Ninety Two beats per minute. Dani stopped breathing, then inhaled so sharply it hurt.

“Houston, this is Stevens,” Connor's voice echoed, “Commander Lewis is stable. Telemetry sensor failure. Issue stabilised.”

Dani sank back onto the couch so suddenly her knees nearly gave out. The adrenaline and the shaking remained, but they came paired with relief rather than fear now. For ten terrible minutes, she'd looked at a screen and believed she might be watching the worst moment of her life unfold. 

☾

The week on the lunar surface passed in the blink of an eye. One moment Gabby and Hanna were standing beneath a black sky collecting samples from ancient craters, the next they were climbing back into the ascent vehicle, leaving the Moon behind.

The ascent itself was anticlimactic. The engine ignited, and the lunar surface fell away beneath them in a cloud of grey dust.

An hour or so later, they docked with the orbital spacecraft. Connor grinned as the hatch opened. “About time,” he laughed.

Luke rolled his eyes. 

The next nine days passed in a blur of science. 

The samples collected on the Moon occupied nearly every waking hour - hundreds of carefully catalogued specimens filled storage containers throughout the spacecraft; rocks, core samples, dust samples. All pieces of lunar history.

Every available surface on board the ship seemed occupied by data tablets, sample containers, and scientific equipment.

Gabby spent most mornings reviewing the previous day's specimen logs. Each sample required extensive documentation - photographs, then measurements, followed by composition analysis then location verification. Some days she spent eight hours logging specimen information from the day before, then proceeding to compare observations with Hanna.

The work was fascinating but exhausting.

Every evening, Gabby found herself drifting toward the observation window without thinking. Earth grew larger in the first few days of descent, at first only slightly, then dramatically bigger.

She spent a few minutes each night recording videos for Dani. The first day back on the ship, she'd apologised profusely for the telemetry scare - not that Dani would see the video, but the thought counted. Some of the other videos she spent talking about what they'd done that day, which most of the time involved looking at rocks under microscopes. In other videos she didn't talk about space at all. She talked about taking Dani for dinner when she got home. About repainting the living room like Dani had suggested. About finally oiling the hinges on their bedroom door so it finally stopped squeaking. 

She never talked about the ring. That was the one thing that remained a secret.

Hanna found her looking at the ring again on the final day before splashdown.

“You know,” Hanna said while floating upside down nearby, “at this point I think you’re more excited about proposing than you were about landing on the Moon.”

Gabby threw a pen at her. Well, attempted to. The pen simply floated lazily across the cabin. Hanna laughed for nearly five minutes.

—

The three week post-flight quarantine felt longer than the entire mission.

Objectively, Gabby knew that wasn't true. She'd spent thirty one days in space, orbited the Moon, lived on another planet for a week, and traveled hundreds of thousands of miles from Earth. Yet nothing during the mission tested her patience quite like those final twenty one days back on the ground.

Every day was scheduled down to the minute - Gabby hated it. Not because her body still felt strange or because of any of the testing. She hated it because she was home, and yet she still couldn't go home.

The first week was dominated by recovery. Gravity felt heavier than she remembered. Her legs ached, her back hurt, simple things exhausted her. 

Physical therapists worked with the crew every day, slowly rebuilding strength and endurance. Gabby endured it without complaint. Mostly.

But every evening she found herself staring out of the facility windows toward the Florida sunset and wishing she was somewhere else. With someone else. She'd spoken to Dani briefly over the phone after splashdown to let her know she was okay. Other than that - contact had been minimal.

By the third week, the crew were all beginning to lose their minds. They’d all already been cleared health wise, but had to remain at the facility in case any other illnesses occurred.

Gabby mostly kept to herself that final week. It wasn't because she didn't enjoy being around them, but because all she could think about was walking through the exit doors and seeing Dani waiting for her.

When release day finally arrived, Gabby felt like a kid on Christmas Eve, barely sleeping because of the excitement. Final medical checks passed. Final paperwork was completed. The mission was done.

—

The Florida afternoon was warm when she finally stepped outside. Bright sunlight flooded the entrance area, and the air smelled faintly of salt and summer heat.

Beyond the doors, reporters stood behind barricades, NASA personnel moved around nearby, and the crew’s families waited just past the security checkpoints.

Gabby couldn't focus on any questions she was being asked. CBS. NBC. ABC. FOX News. Everyone shoved microphones in her face, all asking the same questions. Gabby answered each question with a few words, more focused on the woman waiting for her.

Gabby's chest tightened when she finally saw her. Every emotion she'd kept carefully controlled throughout the mission surged upward at once.

She practically ran toward Dani.

The distance disappeared in seconds. Then Dani’s arms were around her. 

Gabby broke at the contact. The composure she'd maintained through launch, lunar orbit, surface operations, equipment failure, re-entry, recovery and quarantine vanished completely. She buried her face against Dani's shoulder and simply held on.

Dani wrapped both arms around her waist, holding her just as tightly. One hand immediately shifted to the back of Gabby's neck, pulling her impossibly closer.

Gabby could feel Dani’s heart beating beneath her cheek. Steady. Familiar. Warm.

A few tears escaped despite her best efforts. She laughed weakly when Dani noticed, completely exhausted, embarrassed and overwhelmed.

“You okay?” Dani whispered.

Gabby let out a shaky laugh, the sound cracking in the middle.

“Yeah.”

*

The evening was warm, the kind of late summer evening where the air remained comfortable long after sunset. Their back yard was illuminated by soft string lights hanging across the fence, casting a golden glow along the patio. The grass moved gently beneath the light breeze. Crickets chirped somewhere beyond the garden. 

Most importantly, the sky above was clear - filled with stars. That part was intentional. 

Gabby had spent almost an hour checking weather forecasts earlier in the week.

Now, she stood in the kitchen doorway watching Dani outside, and suddenly every ounce of confidence she'd ever possessed had vanished.

Her hands were shaking.

Again.

Just like they had been the night she'd come home and told Dani about Artemis IV. Just like they had before the launch. Just like they had when she stepped onto the Moon's surface for the first time.

It felt ridiculous that she'd landed on another planet, yet this terrified her more.

Dani sat curled into one of the patio chairs, a blanket draped across her lap despite the warmth. One of Gabby’s t-shirts hung from her shoulders - royal blue with a now faded Artemis II logo on the front, the print cracked from wear. Her hair caught the glow of the string lights. She looked comfortable. Relaxed.

Gabby loved her so much it almost hurt.

For a moment, she stood there trying to gather courage, as well as trying to remember the speech she'd practiced appropriately seven hundred times.

Unfortunately, every version disappeared from her brain the moment she needed it.

Fantastic.

Dani looked up when she finally walked outside, smile appearing across her face. “You're staring,” Dani laughed softly.

“I know,” Gabby said calmly, “I wasn't trying to hide it.”

For a while, they sat together, watching the stars and listening to the quiet sounds of the evening. It was a peaceful silence that hadn't existed in either of them for a long time.

Dani eventually shifted closer, resting her head against Gabby's shoulder. Their hands found each other naturally too.

Gabby looked up at the sky; the stars scattered above them, the Moon low on the horizon. The same Moon. The thought still felt strange - a month agp she'd been standing there. Actually standing there. Now she was home, back where she belonged. 

This was it.

The moment she'd imagined a hundred different ways.

“Hey,” Gabby's voice came out slightly higher than intended.

Dani looked up. “Yeah?”

“So…” Gabby swallowed. Brilliant start. Truly inspiring. Dani was already smiling. Gabby knew that smile too well - the one that appeared when Gabby was being awkward.

“So?” Dani prompted.

Gabby looked toward the stars again as if they would give her confidence.

“Okay. Right,” Gabby continued even less gracefully. “When I was up there,” she gestured vaguely towards the sky, “I saw so much. The Moon. The Earth… Everything.”

“Where is this going?” Dani laughed softly.

“I had a plan.”

“You definitely did not.”

Gabby laughed, unable to hell herself.

“No, I really did.”

The conversation felt so normal. So familiar. So them. For a moment, Gabby almost forgot why they were here. Then she felt the ring box inside her pocket, and everything became real again.

The laughter faded slowly. Dani noticed straight away.

“What is it?”

Gabby looked at her. Really looked at her. At the woman who had waited through years of training. Through Artemis II. Through quarantines. Through every doubt and every fear. This was the woman who had told her she had to go to the Moon because she'd regret it forever if she didn't. The woman she'd thought about every single day she was away.

The speech she'd prepared no longer mattered.

Only the truth did.

“Dani,” her voice cracked slightly, “when I was up there, everyone kept talking about how incredible it was. And it was…”

Her voice became quieter.

“...But every single day, I kept thinking about coming home.”

Dani's eyes softened. “Gabs…”

“I mean it,” Gabby squeezed her hand. “I spent my entire life dreaming about going to the Moon… And somehow when I was up there, all I could think about was you.”

A pause.

“I just…” her voice broke slightly, “you are every version of home I’ve ever had.”

The tears in Dani's eyes became visible now.

“So when I got back…” 

Gabby reached into her pocket.

“And when I walked out of quarantine…”

The small velvet box appeared in her hand. Dani froze completely. The world seemed to stop moving. 

Gabby's hands trembled.

“I carried this all the way to space.”

A watery laugh escaped Dani. “Oh my God.”

Gabby opened the box, the diamond catching in the glow of the string lights, elegant and beautiful. Exactly right. Tears began to spill down Dani’s cheeks, and somehow that made Gabby cry too.

She finally dropped to one knee.

And for the first time all night, Gabby stropped trying to be clever, or funny or impressive. Instead, she simply told the truth.

“Dani.”

Her voice shook

“I love you.”

The words were certain.

“I love waking up next to you, and I love coming home to you.”

Dani was openly crying now, one hand covering her mouth, attempting and failing to catch any of the sobs of happiness leaving her body.

Gabby looked down briefly, then back at the girl in front of her.

“Will you marry me?”

Dani couldn't speak. She just stared, crying, laughing, nodding her head. When she finally spoke, her voice broke. “Of course I will.” The answer came without hesitation, without doubt. 

“Yes,” Dani said again.

Somewhere above them, hanging in the night sky, was the Moon. The place Gabby had spent her entire life trying to reach.

Yet wrapped in Dani’s arms, engagement ring finally on her finger, Gabby knew with absolute certainty that she had already found the only place she wanted to be.