Chapter Text
Ever since The Incident- what they had taken to calling being sucked through a black hole, and launched into a star system Will claimed was called “Danger” (Danger? Seriously?)- Judy had spent most of her time in the control room. She curled up in one of the pilot seats, and stared, unseeing, out at the galaxy, with its two contrasting rings of, what, planets? Stars? She watched as they grew closer to it every day. This room was half-window, and she still felt stuck. Claustrophobic. It was no use crying, but she could admit, at least to herself, that she was exhausted. And terrified. And exhausted from being constantly terrified. So, she would come here, and stare out at the unfamiliar stars, while life went on in the rooms behind her.
Sometimes one of her family members would sit with her, and trade theories, or attempt to coax her out of the room. At the latter, Judy would unfold herself from the seat, and walk numbly in the direction she was pointed. Her mom would stop her, and smooth a hand over her hair. The simple touch was enough to bring Judy back to herself, enough at least to give her mom an honest, if rueful, smile. Her dad kissed her temple, Penny would clutch her hand, or Will would talk to her about biological properties in the animals they found on the other planet. They were treating her like she was made of glass, and she couldn’t find it in herself to fight against it. She felt like she was going to have a very real breakdown, very soon.
Sometimes Don would sit with her. His arrival was almost always preceded by Debbie. His chicken would wander in, clucking merrily with every few steps. He’d saunter in behind her, none of his swagger lost, despite their predicament. He’d sit on the floor next to her chair, and crack jokes while he fed Debbie. Sometimes, he even managed to make her laugh.
This is where he found her, about a month into their predicament. The joined orange and blue rings nearly filled the window before her, fiery and intimidating in their nearness. Debbie clucked around the base of the chair, and Judy let her hand drift down to the chicken’s feathers, stroking her lightly. Debbie let out a sound of appreciation. Don sat down next to her, and she tilted her head to see him.
His stubble had grown out into what was very nearly a full beard. She wondered if they had razors on the ship. If his lack of shaving was a choice. His hair, too, was growing out, the jet black strands curling above his forehead, and at the nape of his neck.
His cheeky smile, however, remained the same as he lifted his chin, meeting her gaze. She met it with a brief quirk of her lips. That was about the best she could muster most days, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“And what are you up to on this fine morning, Doctor Robinson?” He asked pleasantly.
“Oh, the usual. Waiting to see if we’re about to crash-land on another planet determined to kill us horribly in one way or another.” Her voice held the same levity as Don’s, but the sarcasm underneath it was clear. Don didn’t appear bothered. He was happy to talk, regardless of her mood. He was a good friend. They were friends, right?
Idly, her mind recalled the day they went to get the fuel. She had found out he was getting paid in exchange for leading them to the fuel- something he should have done regardless, not just for a check for, in his words, a retirement on a dying planet. He’d asked if they could go back to being friends afterwards. She hadn’t given him an honest answer that day- any honest answer had been buried underneath her fear and anger. She’d wanted to ask if they really were friends. If he saw her as more than the precocious, eighteen year old doctor he’d first met. She certainly saw him with more clarity these days.
“Okay, come on.” Don stood up, startling her out of her thoughts.
“What?” He was standing now, reaching out a hand to her.
“You. Up. Now.” He curled his fingers in a “come here” gesture. “It’s not doing you any good to sit here, staring at that.” He jerked his thumb towards the vista behind them.
“One of us has to.” Her argument was a weak one at best. They both knew the computer, jacked up as it was, would warn them of any incoming obstacle, be it a meteor, or an entire planet.
Don just raised his eyebrows at her. Judy sighed, slipped her hand into his, and let him pull her to her feet. “That’s more like it. Come on. You’re going to hang out with me today.” And with that, he was striding out of the control room, not even turning around to check if she was behind him.
Judy cast a baleful look down at Debbie. “Your human sucks.”
Debbie clucked at her unsympathetically.
“You make a very good point. Fine, fine, I’m going.” And with a put-upon sigh, Judy chased after the mechanic, who had already disappeared down the hall.
Don had settled in the central room of the ship, though he was inexplicably sitting on the floor, with their battered deck of cards in his hand.
“Don, I’m really not in the mood for Go Fish.” She warned, even as she sat down across from him. He began to shuffle.
“We’re not playing Go Fish.” He said. “My abuela loved to play cards. Now, this is more fun when played with more people, but we can manage with two.” He began to deal out the cards. Three to each of them facing down. Three more facing up. Then three more in a pile. He rattled off the rules, but he lost her by the time he reached explaining the special cards. He examined the confusion on her face, and then smiled lightly. “How about we learn by playing?”
“Please.”
With a chuckle, Don placed his first card on the ground, and they were off.
Judy, to her credit, picked it up pretty quickly. She was a Robinson, and Robinsons were notoriously competitive. Family board night had been a staple for the family, until a Monopoly piece had ended up Will’s nose, and Penny and John refused to speak to each other for a week.
Don won twice, but the third game, Judy had picked up on his tricks, and countered with her own. When she placed her last card on top of his, her hand was empty, while he still had half of the deck in his. She punched the air in victory and grinned. Don ceded graciously, and obliged to her high five.
“I haven’t seen that in a while.” He commented, sitting back on his heels.
“Seen what?” She gathered up the cards. “Wanna go for one more round?”
“An actual smile from Judy Robinson. They seem pretty rare. And yes, one more round.”
She looked up from the cards she was already shuffling to meet his eyes. To her surprise, he looked completely sincere in his comment. It was an unusual look on him, but she welcomed it. “Yeah, well. They’re for special occasions.”
“I’m honored to bear witness to one such occasion.” There was the cheeky smile she was waiting for, but there was an underlying affection to it.
Before she could begin to form a sensible response, Penny wandered in. Her eyes landed on the deck of cards in Judy’s hand. “Please tell me you’re not playing Go Fish.” She said, with no small amount of dread in her voice.
“We’re not playing Go Fish.” Judy laughed a little at her sister’s expression. “Don’s teaching me… hey, what is this game even called?”
“Palace.” He supplied. “Join in, it’s super easy.”
Penny surveyed the pair for a moment, considering. “Alright. Maybe one game. Just go easy on me, okay?”
An hour later, the entire Robinson family, plus one mechanic, were sitting in a circle on the floor, engaged in a very intense round. Penny and John were openly discussing how to sabotage Will, who currently only had two cards in his hand. Maureen was scolding them, while silently counting the cards available. Don could only watch on in fascination, almost not noticing when it was his turn.
“Your family is terrifying.” He murmured in Judy’s ear. The smile in his voice was evident.
She bit back a smirk. “You started this.”
“I was trying to cheer you up,” He said, voice still low. No one could hear him over the cacophony of the rest of the others’ arguing. “Not wake sleeping beasts.”
“I’m so sorry for your suffering.” She teased back, a smile lighting up her face as Will stuck his tongue out at Penny, while Maureen leaned over to peek at John’s cards.
Don smiled too. “It was worth it.” He wasn’t looking at the others, though.
***
Don knew he was completely gone on Judy, thank you very much. However, he was also a decent human being, who had no intention of letting anyone know that he, Don West, a twenty-seven year old spaceship mechanic, had a childish crush on an eighteen year old doctor. Because that would be weird.
Plus, they were stuck in a Jupiter that had zero fuel, zero contacts, and zero hope of rescue, rocketing towards a star system with the incredibly comforting name of Danger. This wasn’t exactly a place where any sort of relationship- any healthy relationship, at least- could blossom.
He had a feeling they were friends, though. At the very least, she put up with him, and that was more than enough.
She had stopped secluding herself in the control room. She would still get despondent every now and then, staring off into space like she could see something he couldn’t. He wanted to help, but he didn’t know how. He wasn’t the one who was a doctor. So instead, he would distract her. He’d send Debbie clucking her way, or drag her into the engine room to poke and prod at the glowing thing that seemed to be controlling their engines, or have her sit with him in the Chariot while he blasted classic rock.
But his distractions were getting few and far between. There simply wasn’t that much to do on a two story ship designed for short travel. And he was stuck with the entire Robinson family.
The other Robinsons seemed to be slowly accepting him into their circle of trust. He was faring better than Smith, at least, who still tried to get in Will’s head every other week, and was a general nuisance to everyone else on the ship. Penny teased him just as much as she teased her siblings. He and Will had played catch in the hallway, until they almost broke a monitor and Maureen had scolded the both of them. Don had almost protested; he was almost thirty, he didn’t think he deserved this talking-to- but then he saw Judy in the background, badly stifling a laugh behind her hand, and decided this minor humiliation was worth it.
John was a tough nut to crack, but something had changed between them when they had been stuck on that piece of wreckage. They weren’t braiding each other’s hair and gossiping every night, but he seemed to be tolerating Don’s presence more than before, and that was probably the most Don could hope for.
Everyone seemed determined to figure out a way to reassert control over their engines, so their days were mostly full of lists and tasks and taking of samples. If Maureen wasn’t in the pseudo-lab she’d set up in the cargo hold, she was bent over one of her whiteboards, taking complicated-looking notes, and glancing back and forth between those and her tablet, muttering quietly to herself. John and the kids took it upon themselves to remind her to eat, and sleep.
He watched one day, with a little sadness, as John laid a gentle hand on his wife’s shoulder, murmuring something in her ear. Maureen looked up with a small smile, and straightened up, and followed him to the kitchen.
“What’s up?” Penny materialized next to him, seemingly out of nowhere. Don jumped a foot in the air and did his best not to clutch his heart as the little redhead giggled.
“Trying not to have a heart attack.” He grumbled, though there was little heat behind his words. “What business do you have, sneaking up on poor, unsuspecting mechanics like that?”
Penny tapped the 3D printer he’d been leaning on. “Mom wanted me to print a spare part for the filters.” She gave him an appraising look. “What are you doing moping around her lab?”
He pressed his lips together in a thin line. “I wasn’t moping.” Penny just stared at him, waiting. “I was coming down to get some more food, and your parents were being all… parent-y over there.” He waved his hand at the now-empty space. “I just. They really love each other. It’s gross. Whatever.”
Penny gave him a perplexed look. He figured she was ready to drop the topic as she turned to the printer, but then she spoke, quietly as she typed in the instructions. “It wasn’t always like that.” He turned to the younger girl, surprised by her words, but she kept her eyes trained on the screen. “I mean, they've always loved each other. But after the star hit, he chose to go back to active duty with the military. Mom and Judy saw it as him choosing to leave us. Will didn’t know what to think. He’s always been an optimist.” Penny shrugged. “But then we got into the Alpha Centauri program. Mom called him to, uh, well, to tell him we were leaving… without him,” She stumbled over the last part. “And then a week later, he showed up at training with us.” Penny finally finished her typing and looked up at Don. “It took a while. Like, a long time. But she forgave him eventually. They never stopped loving each other. Not really.”
Don nodded. He noticed what she wasn't saying. How she purposefully left out her own reaction to John's choices. How she took care of them by observing. This was more or less what John had told him when they were stuck, floating on that wreckage. There was no doubt that John loved his family, despite these hurdles. Something he had said, weeks back, came back to him. I love Penny because she gives me lip… but she tries harder than anyone gives her credit for. Don hadn’t given it much credence, then, but he noticed now. She had been nothing but sassy and snarky and cheerful ever since they got stuck. She was ferrying things for her parents, keeping Will entertained, and keeping everyone’s mood up. He certainly hadn’t given her credit for that, had only written it off as a character trait. But as he watched the redhead intently watch the 3-D printer spit out a curved piece of plastic, he realized she was just as afraid of the rest of them.
In a move that surprised the both of them, he reached out and patted her shoulder. “He loves you guys a lot. It’s all he could talk about when we were stuck on that scrap of metal. You, your mom, Will, and... And Judy.” He didn’t say I wish my family was like yours. He didn’t say My dad isn’t like that. This moment was for her, not him.
Penny smiled tightly. “Thanks, Don.”
He nodded, and turned to grab the box he had originally come down for in the first place. He’d nearly left the room when Penny called behind him, “She doesn’t hate you, you know.”
Don stumbled as he twisted back. “Huh?”
Penny’s smile was real now. “The look Judy gives you, where she looks like she wants to kill you? That means she likes you. You’re one of us now.”
“Oh. Huh.” Don blinked, considering, and then walked out, lost in thought.
----
According to her watch, it was midnight.
At least, in standard time on Earth. In the empty void of space, however, it was always night. Judy had wrapped a soft, white blanket around herself to keep from shivering. She wanted to go to the control room, despite knowing what she would find. Unrelenting, unforgiving stars, stretching out in infinite darkness. Oblivion.
Instead, she wandered the halls. The sound of her steps broke the eerie quiet. Even the engine hum was a dull murmur in her ears. Sleep was a priority of most, but a luxury for her. Her nightmares nearly matched her waking reality at this point.
As she circled back around to the line of bedroom doors, she heard something else. It really should have been inaudible, if not for the absolute quiet that swallowed everything else around them. It was coming from the last door on the right, which had been left slightly ajar. It had been Smith’s room before Smith- June Harris, whatever- had revealed herself as a true psycho. Once they had been sucked into the black hole, Don, their reluctant and unexpected passenger, had claimed it for his own.
He was singing, Judy realized, hovering outside of his door. He wasn’t half bad, really. His voice was gravelly, and he was singing in Spanish.
“Me enamora que me hables con tu boca/Me enamora que me eleves hasta el cielo/Me enamora que de mi sea tu alma soñadora.” The words were slow, and soft, but Judy only understood a few words.
She listened for a few more moments. It was oddly soothing, listening to him sing. Still, she felt creepy just hovering outside his door. She tapped a knuckle to his door, and he abruptly fell silent.
She peeked her head in the slightly open door. Don was in bed, but he propped himself up on his elbows when he saw her.
“Judy?” His voice was confused, but not unpleasant.
“Hi.” Judy bit her lip, a little embarrassed. It wasn’t like she was interrupting… anything. But still, this was a context in which she had never seen him before.
“What’s up with the ghost ensemble?” Don’s cheeks twitched, as if he were trying not to smile, and Judy realized that she still was wrapped up in her white blanket.
Judy rolled her eyes. “If you hadn’t noticed, spaceships are a bit chilly.”
Don sat up all the way, then stood. “There’s actually a really good reason for that.” He slid the door open a bit more. “I assume you want to come in?” It was phrased as a question, as though he genuinely didn’t know if she did want to.
She did. There wasn’t much in the room- all of their quarters were rather small, though they were supposed to expand once the Jupiter landed. Which would likely be a long time from now. So, Judy made herself comfortable at the foot of his bed, keeping her blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Don sat across from her, adjusting the covers as he did.
“I heard you singing.” Judy offered, and bit back a smile as Don’s head snapped up to look at her, and she half raised her hands in apology. “You were good. Though I don’t really understand Spanish.” She leaned against the wall, still looking at him. “What’s it called?”
Don was staring at her, his brow furrowed slightly. He cleared his throat. “Um, Me Enamora. It’s about falling in love.” He shrugged. “My mom liked the song, she played it a lot at home.”
Judy nodded, and smiled encouragingly. “You don’t… um, you don’t talk about your family a lot,” She tried gently. She didn’t want to pry, but she’d be lying if she wasn’t burning with curiosity about his past. He’d mention his abuela every now and then, but that was it. He preferred to boast about his skills as a mechanic, or the trouble he’d get into while training to be a mechanic. He got a little distant when he talked about Tam. But he’d never mentioned his parents to her. But they’d been stuck on this ship for three months. Surely they were good enough friends now…
“I don’t really like talking about them.” He said gruffly. Judy was about to back off, and tell him it was fine, when he spoke again. “I told your dad about it, when we were stuck. My parents… they’re not like yours.”
Judy brought her knees to her chest, and wrapped her arms around her legs. “How do you mean?” She asked softly.
“They just… they didn’t care about me. I was trouble when I was younger. Maybe I just wanted attention. I dunno. They split when I was younger. I lived with my mom, mostly. I don’t… I don’t think I ever heard her say ‘I love you’. Not to me, or anyone else.”
Judy’s eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything. Don smiled slightly, but it wasn’t a happy smile. It was the kind of smile people made when they were trying to laugh off something seriously, truly sad. “Yeah, she was a tough love kind of person. It’s fine, it didn’t, like, scar me for life or anything. Or maybe it did. I dunno. Anyway,” He shook his head, as though he were clearing his thoughts. “Your dad was telling me about how much he loves you guys, just dropping the word like it didn’t mean anything. It didn’t... it didn't cost him to talk about how much he loves you.” He had been crying, Judy remembered, when they had finally come in over the radio. She wondered if this was why.
Another deep, calming breath. “Anyway. I was feeling homesick. Even with all the bad stuff that happened with me and my mom, this song was always one of the good things. She used to sing it to me, and we’d spin around in the living room, singing and dancing until we fell on the floor, too dizzy to get up.” His eyes were distant, and he smiled despite himself. “For her birthday one year, I learned how to play it on guitar. Man, she was so happy. Taught myself a few others, but that was the special one for us.” Don blinked a few times, returning to reality. “But, I don’t have a guitar here.”
She hadn’t expected so much from him so easily. Judy let her lips twitch up into a smile, and Don mirrored it. It wasn’t happy, but rather, a bittersweet moment. She wondered if his mom was still alive, if she knew her son was lost in space. If she cared. She had the terrible feeling that Don was wondering the same thing.
“You play the guitar?” She asked, instead, aiming for a lighter subject.
The tension lessened in his shoulders, and his bittersweet smile relaxed into something easier. “Yeah. Turns out I’m not half bad. Before I left, I had taken some real lessons and was just starting to get it.” He flexed his fingers, inspecting them with casual curiosity. “I wonder if I’m still any good.”
“I bet you are,” The easy reassurance escaped her lips before she could stop it, and he stilled, quirking an eyebrow at her. “I mean. It’s like riding a bike, right?”
He pressed his lips together. Sh couldn't make out his expression. “I have no idea.”
“Well, when we make it to Alpha Centauri, I’m getting you the best guitar in the known galaxy, and you can show me.” Her voice was so full of false confidence, she almost believed herself. That they would make it to Alpha Centauri, instead of likely starving to death on a dead spaceship.
Don smiled again, playing along. “I’ll hold you to that, doc.”
***
“Penny?”
Penny was in the center of the ship, sitting upside down on one of the couches. The fire-red strands of her hair were splayed across the floor, and her feet were propped up on the wall. Judy leaned down to meet her sister’s blue eyes. “What’re you doing?”
Her sister blew out an exasperated breath. “I’m bored, Jude. We’ve been stuck on this ship for months, and I’ve officially run out of things to do.”
Judy sat next to her sister, properly at first, but within a few moments, gave into the impulse, and followed her sister’s example. Her head thudded dully on the floor. “Have you read all of your books?”
“All the ones that seem interesting.”
“Finally mastered poker?”
“And won a frightening number of cookies for my trouble.”
“Learned a new language?”
Penny’s eyebrows drew together. “I didn’t download Rosetta Stone, so, no.”
Judy made a face, thinking. “I think I have a new activity for us.”
“Don?”
“Don.” Judy confirmed.
Judy was about to get up and go find her friend, but Penny seemed to find it more prudent to open her mouth and holler “DON!” So loudly, Judy was surprised they couldn’t hear her from Alpha Centauri. Judy let out a squeak of surprise and tumbled onto the floor. Penny was unrepentant.
There was a crash, and then a few moments later, Don crawled up the ladder, pressing a hand to his head. “You rang?” He asked, voice tight with pain.
Judy had been only half-kidding, but Penny had a new fire in her eyes, and asked Don her question.
“Yeah, that might… actually be fun.” Don said, a slow smile spreading across his face. He turned to Judy. “You in?”
Judy looked from him to Penny from her position on the floor. One of their faces held no room for argument. “I guess.” Maybe it would be fun.
It was not fun. In the end, everyone on board was joining Don’s informal, directionless Spanish class. Maureen donated her precious white board to him for these classes. He taught them various verbs and nouns that he deemed pertinent at the time, and then doubled back on himself to explain the conjugation of those verbs. There were pop quizzes, homework assignments, and tests. Even Smith was given electronic worksheets (on a heavily encrypted tablet). Maureen excelled, of course, and Penny’s brain was like a sponge. Anything that had to do with words was her strength, regardless of the language, apparently.
Judy did okay, but Don had taken to dropping Spanish into their casual conversations, as if she needed the reminder that Spanish was not her strength.
“¿Qué quieres para almorzar?” He asked casually, as they played paper football one afternoon.
Judy flicked the piece of paper at his nose, smiling when it hit her target. “You’re worse than the Duolingo owl, you know.”
“The what?” Don rubbed his nose. “You really have to stop hitting me where it counts. This is the moneymaker, Doc.”
"What money? We're in space."
Don made a face at her, and she made a face right back at him. Like the adults they definitely were.
“You’re just jealous because you don’t know what Penny and I gossip about now.”
Judy snorted. “I still understand the word Debbie. You “gossip” about that chicken more often than not.”
Don smiled at the mention of his chicken, who was currently sleeping on the couch beside them. They were sitting on the floor, the table not shaped properly for their purposes. “She is an excellent source of entertainment.” It was a quiet day, for once. There wasn’t much to do, and for that, Judy was glad. Despite the monotony of their day-to-day life, it was better to be stuck on a working spaceship than a breaking spaceship. For now, the filters were clean, their computers were working, and their engine was… well, not doing anything. It was the best they could ask for.
Debbie ruffled her feathers in her sleep, and Judy allowed herself smile. Then a triangle of paper hit her in the temple, and she whipped her head around to look at Don, who shrugged. “You started it.”
“Are you five?”
“Age is a relative concept”
“I’ll make you a relative concept.”
“Are those fighting words, Doc?” Don teased, but stiffened when he saw the challenging look in her eyes. He scooted back “Those are fighting words.”
“Are you scared, princess?” She tucked her feet underneath her.
"That's badass princess to you."
"I'd run, if I were you."
He did.
Judy, of course, chased after him, and of course caught him. Their (admittedly childish) fight was over quickly, and Judy rode piggyback on Don’s back, as he walked through the spaceship, declaring loudly that Judy Robinson is the greatest paper football player, Spanish student, and doctor in the known galaxy.
Laughter sounded from various parts of the ship, informing them that everyone had heard Don’s declaration.
Judy demanded another victory lap around the main floor, and Don allowed it, complaining the whole time. They passed the control room, and Judy let out an audible gasp. “Don, Don look-”
But Don had seen it too. They gaped, staring out the window as orange filled their vision. They were at last plunging into the colorful, terrifying circles of the system Will had named Danger.
Then they saw it.
“Guys! Get up here, now!”
“Robinsons!”
They heard a muffled cry of “What’s going on?” From the direction of Smith’s cell, but neither of them bothered to go to her. Judy hopped off of Don’s back and ran to the walkie above their computers. “Everyone, get your suits on, now , and get to the control room.”
There was a commotion coming from the others, yells of “What do you mean?” and “What’s happening?”
Judy just exchanged a wide-eyed, terrified look with Don. They had no idea what to answer. They only knew this. It wasn’t good.