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It’s nice to have your feet on solid ground rather than the constructed floor of the Invincible II. It’s nice to see by firelight instead of the harsh, fluorescent bulbs installed on the ceiling and walls.
It’s nice.
The night is maybe a bit more chill than anyone was expecting, but you don’t mind. It’s refreshing. And, perhaps most important, it reminds you that you’re not in space anymore.
That’s why you’re still up, tending to the fire when everyone else has turned in for the night. You can stare at the warm, orange glow and feel a little too cold, and not have any reminders of swirling, cerulean blue. You can listen to the calm stillness of the world around you, silent of echoes bouncing around from universes unknown.
The approaching footsteps are so loud in comparison, but you’re not surprised to see Mark standing there. He flashes you an embarrassed smile as he joins you, a blanket under one arm.
“I, uh, I thought you might want this, it’s- it’s pretty cold.” He stumbles over his words as he hands you the blanket. He seems pleased when you take it and throw it over your shoulders, before he shivers violently for a moment. “Phew. It really is cold. I should’ve brought my own. Well, actually I did, but uh… I just gave it to you- not that that’s a problem! I didn’t mean it like that. I just-”
You tune out Mark’s ramblings as you fidget with the blanket for a moment. Once you’re sure you have enough on one side to stay warm, you open an arm out, the excess blanket dangling invitingly. Without a moment’s hesitation, he jumps to your side to share the limited source of warmth.
He thanks you with his usual charming smile that makes you smile back, but the warmth quickly slips from his lips, twisting into something more uncertain. His eyes flicker up and down as he suddenly seems to struggle to meet yours before he chooses to stare at the fire instead. The firelight makes him look so sombre and vulnerable.
As much as you want to, you don’t ask what’s on his mind. After everything that happened, you can imagine that he has plenty of questions to ask you. You can let him take his time, let him figure out what he wants to ask first.
It’s the least you can do.
“Captain, can I- there’s something I’d like to ask you.” He hasn’t looked away from the fire. With his troubled expression, maybe that’s easier for him. “Before I- before I lose my nerve.”
Of course, it wasn’t going to be an easy question.
You turn slightly to face him better, so he would know that you were paying attention. Still, you stay silent, not pressuring him, letting him speak in his own time. You hope that your own face is comforting, encouraging, and not betraying the churning in your stomach.
After an eternity in a moment, Mark gathers the courage to look you in the eye.
“How did you know to hold on?” He speaks quickly at first, saying the words before he couldn’t bear to. But, more words tumble out much easier than the first. “How did you know what to do? How did you know it wouldn’t make things worse?”
It’s your turn to stare into the flames in uncertainty. You take the opportunity to add another log to the fire while your thoughts spin.
What do you say? Do you tell him everything? Would he understand that he’d saved himself? That you’d failed him -or, another you had failed another him- and that he’d realised the solution and you’d wanted to do it right this time? How would he take the idea that the universe had ended and restarted?
You wouldn’t have believed it if you hadn’t lived it.
But, you can’t find it in your heart to lie to him.
“I didn’t.” Your admission is quiet, barely louder than a whisper, but you know he heard you. All the same, you choose to stay staring at the fire. “I met… another you, from another timeline, universe, whatever. He’d gone back, sabotaged the ship to stop us, to stop- to stop me. He was so… angry, so lost. Consumed with his one answer that there wasn’t a chance he was wrong. And he-”
You chance a peek at Mark. He’s staring at you with abject horror and morbid, rapt attention. He wants to know the rest, but also doesn’t. He seems terrified of how bad that version of him was, how twisted he could become.
You decide. He doesn’t need to know all of it.
“When I saw you in the warp core, I saw that same anger, that same obsession. The way you looked at me when… I realised something when I was holding on to you, while you were begging me to let you go.”
You laugh. You can’t help yourself. It isn’t sad. It isn’t angry. It isn’t even happy. You can’t quite pin the emotion you’re feeling as you look up at the twinkling stars.
“I was trying so desperately to save everyone, but I couldn’t. Not the colonists. Not the crew. Not the universe. Not even myself. I couldn’t save anybody. But there you were, asking me to let you go, to a future I knew had no happy ending. You weren’t going to save anyone either, and you were going to destroy yourself trying. And I just… couldn’t let you do it.”
You smile as you return your gaze back to him.
“I realised that even if I couldn’t save the universe, I could at least save you. I had no idea what would happen afterwards.”
Mark smiles back. It’s a quiet smile, a sad smile. But his eyes are bright with understanding and gratitude. He shifts and leans into you a little bit more, sharing body heat as the blanket sits across both of your shoulders.
“Thank you. For saving me from that.” He looks back at the fire, but it isn’t awkward this time.
You don’t answer. He doesn’t need you to. You just lean into him as well and join him in staring at the flames.
It’s nice to be looking at a fire, watching it dance to its own beautifully chaotic tune that only it knows. It’s nice to feel a semblance of peace enter your heart after so long, having given it to someone else too.
It’s nice.