Chapter Text
“I need a break, Purps…”
“whaaat?”
Red sighed and pushed themselves back, their chair wheeling into the hallway so they could shout easier.
“I NEED! A BREAK!”
They sat and waited for the response, kicking their feet grumpily. They'd been at it for eight hours now without break, and while they had made substantial progress in the direction of the signal, they still weren't certain which planet that Outpost Polus was located on. They glared daggers at the Captain's seat they'd long given up on taking up the center of the room, cursing why such an overall comfortable chair had been ruined by not giving it wheels. Forget how inconvenient wheels would be on a chair designated for a driver of a vehicle, they needed to wheel over into the hall to talk to Purple! Clearly the engineers that built this hunk of junk surely would have realized their error if they had been worth their salt.
Purple hefted into view, crowding Red’s vision as they stood in front of them with their hands crossed.
“You're giving up?”
“Noooo.” Red fluctuated their voice as though speaking to an untrained puppy, “Jeez, it's like you don't even listen to me!”
One of the fingers resting on Purple’s shoulder began to tap impatiently.
Noticing this, Red pressed their palms together and pointed with them to mark their words, “I said I need a break, and clearly you do, too, grump.”
“I'm not grumpy.”
Red waved their hands in an assuming motion, as if their point had just been made. Purple waved their hands mockingly in a similar way, glowering at them. Red wagged their fingers and copied the mimicked movement. Purple huffed and flipped them the bird.
“You're incorrigible.”
Red perked up from their chair, watching as Purple stomped off down the hall towards the cafeteria. They kicked their legs enough to roll their chair down the hall after them.
“Aww, see! I knew you'd agree eventually!”
Purple turned to narrow their visor at them, still not stopping in their movement.
“What? What are you on about?”
Eventually Red’s legs got more tired kicking the chair down the hall than they would be just walking, so they hopped out of the seat and trotted to catch up.
“You're encouraging me! Therefore you acknowledge I'm right and we should take a break. Obviously!”
Purple yelped as they bumped into the wall, rubbing their visor and glaring at the doorway to the cafe they narrowly missed.
“I did not- oh.” Their hand stopped mid-wipe, “You… you cannot be serious.”
“Uhh, you said it, not me!” Red chuckled, patting Purple on the back and leading them both through the short hall out of Weapons. “You said I was encourage-able!”
The security guard levelled Red with a look that likely could summon storms if the world tilted more kilter towards fantasy.
“Your days are fuckin’ numbered.” With a flick of their finger into Red’s brow, they moved ahead of them to dip into the kitchen, leaving Red to nurse their poor forehead in the middle of cafe. Purple’s head popped up over the counter briefly in the middle of their rummaging. They pointed two of their fingers into their visor, then turned their hand around to point them towards Red. “Watch your back, punk.” And back to searching they went. Red exaggerated a comical gulp and adjusted the collar of their uniform.
“Oh, you! Always joking haha…” They sidled up to the counter to try pushing their luck a little further. “But you like me, right? It's all just a kidding, ha-ha?”
Purple resurfaced from the goods along the bottom shelves, one hand placing some tomatoes on the counter and the other clenched into a fist. Slowly, they moved that hand in front of their face, fingers closed but palm upwards. Red, curious, tried peeking into their hand.
“Whatchu got th-”
In one swift moment, Purple opened the hand to reveal a pinch of flour and blew at the pile, effectively smoke bombing Red and covering them in a thin layer of white. Red spluttered, wiping their visor and uniform blearily between coughs. Strained, they yelled, “The- ACK- hell was th-that for??”
By the time they recovered, albeit still covered in flour, Purple was already halfway through attempting to make pizza dough. The lumpy ball between their hands left much to be desired, but it was dough and the captain was indeed still hungry.
“If you aren't gonna help, the least you could do is not rage-bait me while I make us food for the break YOU begged for.” Purple waved a hand dismissively in Red’s general direction. Still, they seemed frustrated, and after a few more whacks with a rolling pin they gave up entirely, plunking it down on the table. The jumble of flour, yeast and water reminded Red of a dead bed crab. Particularly, one that may have also been made of chewing gum. And fury. Mostly fury.
“Firstly! I did not beg. Secondly! Uh… I dunno if I could fix that. I can sorta cook, but not like… that.” Red pointed at it. They swear it blinked at them.
Red could almost hear stones grinding as Purple slowly turned to face them, a hand moving to pick the rolling pin back up.
Suddenly, Red feels very much in perhaps mortal danger.
“Uhhh… Purps? Hehe, whatchya got there?” One step, two steps back, Red paced away from the window. Purple was calmly making their way around the counter towards the door. The back of the Captain's knee bumped a stool, causing them to wobble a bit before recovering. The light to the kitchen turned off, and in the doorway now stood a foreboding picture of Purple, slowly lifting the rolling pin with one hand to smack back down into the open palm of the other. The shadow that the brim of their cap cast made the glint of their visor pop just a bit more.
“I'll give you a ten second head start.”
Like a searing iron had been smacked to their ass, Red took off down the hall towards reactor-side. A hand flung up to keep their hat from flying off in their haste, and as their legs pumped to push them forward they could feel the thrill of adrenaline roaring in their head. The pitter patter of Purple pursuing behind dug the spur in even deeper.
“Woah! Ah! Hey-” Red pushed off the cornered wall to maintain most of their momentum through the upper engines, narrowly avoiding banging their knee into the guard rails around the mechanics. They had to duck as a puff of steam nearly smothered their face. The security and reactor doors were both open, but Red knew the chase would be over too soon if they tried to hide there. So, they continued past them both and dodged their way through the lower engines. Had they always been so rusty? Was that tape holding the piping together?- Actually. Nevermind. It's best if they don't know. The doorway to electrical loomed just beyond, nestled next to the sealed doors of storage. With the lights off in the room, electrical had always been the creepiest locale in Red’s very captainly and professional opinion. A great place to hide from a berserk, rolling-pin waving, rabid, no-good-
The deepest corner of the room met them fast as they bonked straight into the wall. Luckily they managed to miss smashing directly into a data download panel. No need to rack up even more company damages debts!
But now they were well and truly trapped. After a brief check to make sure their visor didn't crack, they whirled around to one of the brand new scariest views they've had of their grumpy companion. They stood just far enough beside the electrical breaker for the light from the hallway to illuminate a portion of their features. The rolling pin in their hand was impossible to spot if not for the faint gleam the edge of it gave off from their hand plunged in darkness. As they took one step forward, their whole body was swallowed in silhouette. Red backed up, but quickly felt their backpack press into the wall. It was hard to tell how close they had moved in the dark. Then, with horrific timing, a fuse sparked somewhere above them, flashing a dim amount of light over them for a brief moment. Enough for Purple to be seen just a few short paces in front of Red, a faux grin of pure evil spreading their visor. The lighting cast the bottom half of their body in shadow still, obscuring the makeshift weapon from clear view. If the two hadn't killed an actual literal alien impostor together, they'd be fooled into believing that Purple was actually a serial murderer. Playing along, Red audibly gulped and raised their hands into a defensive stance.
“H-hey! Purps! We can talk about this, right? Ha-ha? We go waaaay back! You wouldn't wanna-” The captain's ramblings were cut short by a hand pushing below their visor as Purple leaned in reeeeaaaal close. Zips from poorly manicured wires tattered the silence between them. Their visors were inches from touching. Red could feel themselves heating up from the proximity.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn't whack the shit out of you right now.” Their voice was low, and in the darkness it was impossible to read their expression to help paint their tone. Still, the edge of a smile was audible on their voice, which all things considered Red found to be frankly the cutest part of this whole bit. The guard’s hand loosened just enough to let Red answer them.
“Um. Well… you see…” They tried searching their surroundings, trying to think up an excuse, before gasping, “Oh shit! Is that a piece of candy?” and pointing behind the other crewmate towards the far corner of the room.
Purple leaned back, their built up aura immediately dissolving as they turned to look. “What? Why would there be candy in-”
With a quick smack to the palm, Red disarmed Purple of the rolling pin and bowled them over, sending the two of them tumbling to the ground. A flurry of shallow insults were thrown out as the two fought over the makeshift weapon. Purple managed to grab the tip of the handle out from behind Red, who quickly used their foot to push it out of their grasp and send it rolling towards the deepest corner. Eventually the two ended their brawl with the captain pinning the security guard to the floor with their body, their back to the doorway. Both were panting from the exertion. The panting soon gave way to quiet giggling.
It should feel weirder than it does. Play fighting across an otherwise empty ship, racing through and in rooms that held the final moments of their late coworkers and friends. Fighting over a rolling pin they'd seen the one crewmate that had been killed by the other crewmates use nearly every day they had been alive. If it had been a few days ago- no, had it been just a short 24 hours ago, the notion would have been not just insane but disrespectful. Maybe it still is. Because there is heaviness in Red’s heart. The guilt is still there. With nowhere else to go, why would it have ever left? The blood was still festering under their fingernails.
But Purple was alive. Breathing. Smiling, even. Staring up at Red like they did when they were younger; affectionate exasperation. Briefly, Red was grateful the lighting of the room would be hiding the look they were no doubt giving the other crewmate.
Like they had been the ones to hang each and every star in the sky.
Red’s heart clenched. They did not deserve this. Maybe it was even a dream they'd wake up from soon. Maybe they had fallen asleep at their station and would wake up to discover none of this had been real. Not the radio broadcast, not the water incident, not them finally getting some rest in each other’s holds. They certainly felt unworthy if it was all true.
The feeling of something wet brushing their face jostled them from their spiralling thoughts. Purple’s expression had sullen to concern as they were reaching up towards them. With their gentle thumb, they were brushing tears along Red’s visor. Why would they be putting their tears onto Red’s face? That's kinda weird. Not weird enough to turn Red off of them as a crewmate but-
Ohhhhh. Duh. Red was the one crying right now.
“Red?”
Their throat felt as though a string were wrapped around the whole of it, pulling and tugging to close it off tighter and tighter. They could feel the tears clearer now, and cursed how hot they ran.
“Idiot… come here.”
Carefully, Red was guided down into an embrace with Purple. The fourth one in the last 24 hours. The third one initiated by Purple. They must be dreaming. They hadn't done enough to earn this back yet. Maybe they never could. But that doesn't mean that the hand smoothing circles into their back and the warm breath tickling their side didn't work perfectly to melt the captain into a puddle of bean. This can't be forgiveness. Purple said before that they hadn't forgiven them. They shouldn't forgive them. Neither should any of the dead crewmates. Red sucked in a breath as Purple gingerly placed both of their hats to the side and returned to their affections.
Why were they being so nice right now? The last week may have been a total blur as Red sank deeper and deeper into their guilt, but they're almost certain that they did nothing to redeem themselves enough for this. In fact, in the last twelve hours, they have probably pestered Purple more than they have in the last handful of years combined. The security guard should want nothing to do with them, by their calculations. No one should.
“Stop thinking so loud, idiot. It's bumming me out.” Purple’s voice quieted the cacophony of thoughts scrambled around in Red’s brain. The strain in their tone sent stabs through their heart.
“Please.”
Red shifted away enough to get a good look at Purple. The faint break of their voice on that final word sent alarm bells ringing, enough that Red’s own self-loathing was put to an immediate halt.
“P-Purps?”
The other crewmate weakly gripped the captain's uniform, tugging them back closer. The fluorescent lighting from the hall just barely caught the moisture growing around Purple’s visor. They tried for a steadying breath, revealing with each shake of it how much they were holding their emotions back. With a wavering tone, they whispered, “I know what you're thinking. Just… stop. Please.”
In every timeline, regardless of their choices, Red doesn't think they could possibly know what Purple means by that. Still, if they are being direct and are somehow a mind reader, Red knows the correct answer.
“I know I'm right, though. On this one thing.”
Purple sucks in a surprisingly sharp breath and tightens their grip on Red’s uniform again to drag them back down into a more protective embrace. “No,” they mutter, voice growing pained, "You're not. Stop it. Stop… Thinking like that helps no one. Least of all me. Please just… stop.”
“But you agreed! You were right… you always were right and I just never listened-”
“I didn't mean what I said!! It was the heat of the moment and I immediately apologized because it was wrong of me to say-”
“You've said it so many times! Because it's true, and I know it! I'm not dumb or evil enough to deny or want to deny it anymore!”
“What?? I… I only ever said…”
The two crewmates stared at each other as their own gears turned.
“What are you talking about?” Red’s visor furrowed, struggling to see the connections.
“Wh… just… the time in O2… after we found Heracles dead. I… I told you that-”
With a shot of realization, the captain sighed and shook their head. “No- no, no. I wasn't talking about that. It stung like hell, sure. But I know you. I know you enough to know that the instant regret you voiced was genuine. That's why I never brought it up again. I know you didn't mean it. And also, I was being a huge prick at the time, so it was warranted.”
Purple stared up at them as if trying to find a missing puzzle piece. One of their hands rubbed along their suit to dry off some of their tears. “You’re certain? Well… Then what were you talking about?”
“How big of a fuck up I am. How all of this is my fault. Every death that happened on the Skeld was my fault. I let the prize winner drive the ship. I signed the NDA.” Their voice dropped towards the end, wavering with the resurging guilt that threatened to close their throat.
“Oh…” To Red’s shock, their companion heaved a sigh of relief. Carefully, they moved the both of them to sit up and brushed some floor grit off the both of their uniforms. “Well… I can't exactly argue that… but it isn't fully your fault either. MIRA are solely to blame for this all. At no point are they free from guilt, and above anyone else in the universe, they should be the ones held solely responsible for what happened. Even back then.”
The words didn't feel real. They didn't matter, either, because while it was true that MIRA was definitely behind all of this and deserved every ounce of punishment to be doled out, they also knew that the casualties could have been reduced or prevented outright had their head not been shoved up Pink’s ass the whole time. Red cannot risk ever forgetting their own crimes. They'd be the exact type of person both themselves and Purple would despise if they allowed themselves to let MIRA hold all of the blame.
They're sick of evading responsibility. It hasn't made things easier yet, and it never would.
“I was still the captain. They were my crew. My choices guaranteed more deaths.”
“I know. Mine, too.”
Red’s gaze was directed by Purple to look at them. The soft sternness in their visor was a good look on them. Red was too tired to scold themselves for letting their mind think that in this moment.
“But the other crewmates weren't fully innocent, either. Well, most of them. I think just about only Green and Cyan did nothing to hinder the crew from survival. And in Green’s case, it was simply because they died before anything even really happened. We all fucked up. None of us trusted each other. The Impostor was right… it was easy to pick us apart.” The guard traced the ridge where Red’s visor met their suit. It took every ounce of willpower in Red to repress the shiver it elicited. “Which is why we should go to Polus. Save whoever we can. Because we know now. And that knowledge is preciously scarce. I think your drive to do just that, your eagerness to suggest it…” Purple swallowed. “At first I thought it was a sign you had truly delved into becoming a new you. That you were trying. That this was the Red I had lost, and I finally had them back. Then… I guess…” They glanced towards the corner of the room, and as Red followed their gaze, they noticed the vent swallowed up by the darkness of wires, only visible because of a dim light shining from within it. “I got it in my head that it was actually a suicide mission. That I had been right in my previous worries. That you… you wanted to…”
“Die?”
Purple flinched at the word. Weakly, they whispered, “Yeah.”
Now it all made sense. Purple checking on them, asking about their health, being so attentive. They thought Red wanted to do something horrifically rash, and were desperately trying to prevent it. While the thought did cross their mind a few days ago, it was also very brief and immediately squashed by the eternal need to make sure Purple was as okay as Red could keep them. They wouldn't leave Purple behind. Not again. Never again. Even if it would be easier on Red to do so. It went horribly the last time they did it, and even if it hadn't, they know that what they have here in their hands is so much more important than driving a hunk of metal. Hopefully that hypothetical Red would have come to the same realization.
“No. I have too much to do. Too much to make up for. Most of all to… you.”
Purple sighed quietly, their head bumping into Red’s tassels. “You promise?”
Every star in the sky knows the words that Red wants to say now, and what they want to do to soothe the crewmate in their hold. But they corral their tongue and maintain the same embrace.
“As long as you'll have me… I'll be here. By your side.”
A long few minutes stretched out as Purple’s breathing slowly returned to normal. Red stopped themself from counting the stitches along the back of Purple's uniform shirt when a hand gently pushed them back enough for the guard to lock gazes with the captain.
“I will hold you to that.” Such a swirl of emotions played through their visor as they visibly worked up the courage to continue. Red had to force themselves to not think about how close their visors were again. Their own guilt and desires churned like spoilt milk in their gut, staving off most of those thoughts. Purple replaced Red’s hat on their head, their fingers lingering around their visor.
Quietly, as though a breeze could destroy the very words on the wind, they whispered, “You're all I have left. Please don't leave me alone again.”
A supernovae could have ripped through the remainder of the Skeld just now and Red wouldn't have noticed. The cold chill from the underlying tones in Purple’s hushed voice that clashed with their escalating heart rate was enough to drown out everything else in this mortal coil. There was a strange feeling in their suit, like little stones shifting against each other to a faint melody, tickling the ridges of their bone. Like a vow being made. A bond tied. A curse inlaid upon their very soul. Sorta like indigestion.
“I'm all yours, Purps. I promise.” If this vow is what it took to atone for their mistakes, Red would enthusiastically bear it. A coalescence of will tingled in their bone, and while it felt a little odd, Red didn't care much to think too much into it. The thrumming of their heart was far more demanding of their partial attention. They swallowed thickly in response to Purple’s hand smoothing over their heated cheek, slow and deliberate. The other crewmate’s visor hovered right before their own now, and Red could see their flustered reflection in it clearly.
Was this really happening? There's no timeline where Purple was opening up this willingly after everything Red had done to them. The circumstances may be pushing them together faster than they would be otherwise, but this is leagues and bounds above what even that would cause. Purple’s uncertainty in their decision had apparently been left at the door. The trust they were choosing against logical instinct felt rushed. Maybe it still was.
And then the gentle clink happened. Red dared not move away, mind short circuiting alongside the static buzz that the contact was creating. A crewmate’s version of a kiss; the vulnerability of the two of them pressing their most fragile pieces of themselves together, the electric signals of their body merging on that single point. Purple pulled a few inches away, confusion furrowing their brow. Red could only stare after them in shock, their mind practically steaming out of their metaphorical ears.
“I… I'm sorry. I was so sure… I guess I misread…” The feeling of Purple pulling back to give them room was akin to the outer flesh of their suit being methodically flayed by a potato peeler. Red’s hand instinctually lunged to grab hold of the security guard’s, holding them in place.
“N-no! I… I just. Wasn't, ahem-” Red desperately willed their mind to form a complete sentence that didn't suck, “I didn't think that you'd ever… um.” The heavens must be showing mercy on them, for Purple allowed themself to be pulled back closer to Red. Doubt still creased their features. Red wouldn't have it.
How did they possibly fuck up something they had only dreamed of for so many years of their life?
“Redsie?”
Whatever gods are out there seem to find sick pleasure in finding out how many times they can make poor Red’s stomach do triple axel kick flips.
“Can we, um, try that again, Purps? Heheh, uh, I-I’m ready for it this time. I think.”
The aforementioned gods must have had a close hand in the creation of Purple, given the infinite amount of patience this one bean seems to possess. Their doubt fizzled away and was replaced with a fond smile- one that spoke of years knowing another crewmate. It was a small one, albeit, but given that it was Purple, that hardly mattered. A twinkling star in the night sky is still beautiful regardless of how far away you are from it.
Red leaned forward this time, heart caught in their throat. As though their visors were actually made of glass, they were painstakingly gentle. The clink returned with a wildfire of emotions burning the captain up on the inside. They could feel through the spark just how fast Purple’s heart was racing, and it just… did something to them. It wasn't like the movies where all of their problems were erased the moment their visors touched. There was no heavenly choir filling their minds from the rafters. It was somehow better than any of that. Because it was the one crewmate Red knew they would trust and follow to the literal ends of the universe. It was their vital signs mingling with their own, their hand soothing circles into Red’s leg. A shaky, borderline overwhelmed sigh ghosted along the captain's suit.
Slowly, Purple pulled back again. They didn't go far, but clearly they needed a moment to recover. Red themselves felt like a steamed bun left in the basket for too long, visor fogged up from the typhoon of emotions going apeshit in their mind and body.
Ever to be one needing silence to be filled, Red cleared their throat and gave their voice a try. “Y’know Purps, I uh… I never thought you'd actually… well, heheh, you know.” The heat was doused a fraction as the topic left their mouth, “After everything that happened… I thought you'd never even consider friendship with me again, let alone- this.”
Surprisingly, Purple gave it a shrug. “I didn't think I would, either. I mean… I guess there's no point in hiding it anymore. But, back when we were interns-” Their words got caught in their throat, and the cutest blush began to bloom across their face, “I did kinda have a thing for you. Even after the reactor… but it died after the NDA. I didn't think I could ever feel so betrayed. That's why it hurt so much.” Purple was intentionally avoiding Red’s gaze, their visor pointed down to their still joined hands. “I admired your passion. I didn't ever think I could be capable of believing in a dream like you did. I wanted stability. You wanted something I never thought I could have: purpose. And you had the drive to find it. Just being near you made me feel like I could be something more.”
Red could feel through their fingers just how nervous Purple was feeling to be sharing this. But they didn't actually need that to know. Because they felt the same way.
“It's funny you say that,” Red chuckles quietly, “I always felt like I was faking my confidence to everyone. Even myself. I thought that if I faked it for long enough, it would eventually become real confidence. Still waiting on that, by the way!” Purple snorted at the joke. “But I think I was drawn to you because you were so grounded. As long as you were by me, it was like nothing could fool me. I know I'm very easy to manipulate! I mean, look where we are!” Red gestured with their free hand to the magnificent biome that was computer torture: the room. “I let my dreams get ahead of my logic. Because I didn't let you be there when I made the decision. You may have been standing beside me, but I was too absorbed in my thoughts to hear your reasoning. Pink made sure of it.” The crewmate sighed, “But I still made that choice of my own volition. And you suffered the most consequences for it. I knew I could never atone for it, even after I landed you a job on this ship.”
Purple was also lost in the memories of the past, their thumb absentmindedly drawing patterns on the side of Red’s hand. With a steadying breath, they returned their attention back to Red and nodded.
“Logic tells me I should never forgive you. A part of me still hasn't. But logic also tells me that you're not the same crewmate that signed that NDA anymore. Nor are you the crewmate I knew as an intern. You're older now, we have both been through so much since then. I thought that, maybe, if I could just get the Red back from our younger years, I could let things rest and just be happy with that. But now… I'm glad I don't have the old Redsie back.” Red tilted their head in confusion, signalling Purple to give a little smile before continuing, “Because the old Red signed the NDA. You're not them, because I know you wouldn't sign it again. Right?”
Like an instinct, Red replied, “Of course. I'm not making that mistake ever again.” Purple’s fond smile grew a little.
“Then I think that's why I…” Their blush returned, more subtle this time, “Want this. We've both fucked up a lot in the last two weeks. But it's just us now, and MIRA will do anything to bury the truth. And the truth is all that's left to keep us company in this death trap.”
Red adjusted Purple’s hat on their head, allowing their hand to trail down their side. “Y'know Purps, I get the feeling there's more here keeping us company.” The guard tilted their head in question, and Red only shrugged. “Nothing bad. Just maybe the others are watching our backs, now.”
“Didn't know you were religious, Red.”
The captain barked out a laugh and began to help Purple up to their feet.
“Oh no no, nothing like that. Just maybe, y'know? Their spirits or thoughts linger around a little bit. Hell, maybe that's what keeps all the tasks at bay for us! The others floating around and fixing everything up as ghosts!”
Purple looked unconvinced, but clearly not completely against the idea. They had circumstantial evidence. Not the best evidence, but evidence regardless.
“Then that means you also believe they're here and just watched us kiss.”
Red bristled in shame at the thought, but clearly didn't possess enough shame to let go of Purple’s hand. “Well, you know what? That's their own fault, then! If they don't wanna see it then they can float their asses somewhere else!” To emphasize, Red pointed their free hand around the room in an accusatory stance. The quiet clicking of the servitors was the only response. Purple tugged them towards the entrance, shaking their head at the thought of it all.
A quiet growl stopped them both in their tracks. Purple glanced down just as Red's hand flew up to grasp their stomach. After a brief moment of embarrassment, Red parted from Purple long enough to run back into electrical and retrieve the rolling pin they had almost forgotten, feeling quite silly for getting so swept up in the moment.
“What am I to do with you?” Purple tutted and replaced their hold over Red’s free hand, starting the trip all the way back to cafeteria. As much as Red wanted to banter and throw a joke back at their companion, their brain was just a little too frazzled in the moment to come up with anything. They had just kissed Purple twice after play fighting on the floor like mini crewmates. They were now walking around, hand-in-hand, like they themselves were in a union. All without dinner. Luckily, Purple picked up on the vibe and started talking about the cameras they had been working on. Something about the color capability being there but turned off. Their words would have commanded much more of Red’s attention if they were not staring at the side of Purple’s face the whole time, just taking it all in. The gleam of the fluorescents bouncing off of their visor, the way they spoke with their free hand, the occasional bump of the shoulder as the two walked together.
Red doesn't think they deserve it.
Purple turns to look at them, maybe having just asked a question, but after just a quick glance seems to understand. The two stop, and the guard leans over to give a brief, gentle clink before continuing their walk, the one-sided conversation starting back up.
And maybe Red is right. But Purple is the one who is always right about things.
Something about Red’s CrewTabmate. Everything is blurring together a bit, but that's okay. They stop by the kitchen and Purple separates to try and find some things to piece together, Red following absentmindedly to do what they can to help. The two are able to mix together a more agreeable dough, and this time Red is the one to try and roll it out with much more success- and to Purple’s dismay. Red teases them about it as they both work to spread some pre-made sauce over it, doing their best to avoid leaving any dough dry. Eventually, they plop their finished creation onto the peel and shimmy the pie into the oven. They share a high five as Purple sets a crewmate shaped timer for fifteen minutes.
As the two chat by the kitchen’s counter, some small part in Red decides that it's time to let some things go.
And Purple seems to believe that they do deserve it.
Even if the ghosts could speak and poke fun at them, they wouldn't comment on how the two hold hands under the counter.