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I was dozing. It was dark. It was too fucking dark and I couldn’t keep the memories away. I couldn’t open my eyes and be someone else. I couldn’t wake and look into someone else’s eyes to see my reflection there – to be that reflection.
It was dark and I was five. It was dark and I was waiting for what I knew would come. I hadn’t dark-walked in years – in decades. Since leaving Earth, since leaving that basement. I hadn’t walked without seeing — sensing my way through the black — for a long, long time. But this dark was green. This green was blinding. This cave was just another basement. Then, through the haze, I heard a name. A man’s voice was calling.
They always spoke first. They didn’t like the dark either but they wanted a fuck-fix more… so they stumbled in the black, calling out.
“Amos!” He called. “Amos!” He paused. “Amos. Amos, step back.”
The voice was quiet now. Soft. The voice was persuading, “Listen to me… step back.”
Step back? Stay still. Don’t move. Shhh.
“Amos.”
I wasn’t sure who the fuck Amos was, but Timothy — I knew Timothy. Tim. Timmy. My name is Timothy. But this guy… one of those guys… those guys that take what they want and call you ‘darling boy’ and ‘sweetheart’ and other names.
And then – out of that dark place – came a hand. A grasping groping hand. On my arm, on my shoulder, pulling at me.
I exploded in a rage. The white fire flashed through every muscle, every nerve contracting into a blood and iron fist fueled by fury and … what was that… fear? Was that fear? It’s been so long. But I didn’t have time because the hand was pulling and I spun. In the cold, wet air I gulped a breath to hold – to hold . . . but the air tasted sunny like Earth and growing things.
I awoke to Cap whispering, “It’s alright. It’s alright. I got you.”
It was Holden’s hand upon me. It was Jim Holden. Jim… who gave me my family. My brother – who, for reasons beyond my understanding, always kept the Faith. Even when the System went to shit. Even in the dark when people pulled at him, trying to bend him over, trying to fuck him, fuck us, fuck everyone. Despite the dark, despite the hands, despite the fucking – James Holden had Faith and he gave it away for free.
“Amos,” he said after leading me to shelter and safety, “Amos, look at me.” He was kneeling in front of me, his hands on my knees. “As long as we’re still breathing, we’re alive.” In the sightless green I felt myself in the reflection of his voice. “I can’t lose you.”
Waiting was harder here in the green blindness. I didn’t have the distraction of responsibility, of movement, of fighting, of fucking, of killing someone. Like sleep, the dark made me lose time. Like Earth, the close, restless bodies made me antsy. This waiting shit was fucked. But Holden said, “Stay.” So I stayed.
I stayed – more or less – without complaint, without dark-walking. I have no fucking idea how long I sat there trapped in my head, listening to the shit-talking-fear and paranoid whining around me. Until he was back and I could ask for my flamethrower. It might not be anything more than a twisted security blanket – but this nothingness, this green shit was chipping away at my calm.
“Doc figured it out… got a treatment for your eyes…” I don’t know what he said next. My brain kinda short circuited. Faith. It oozed out of Holden. He wears it like a fucking Vac suit – except, when he takes off the helmet, it fills the entire goddamned world with air.
“How?" I could breathe and I confessed, "I didn’t think you could pull it off.”
But, I know... even after the Doc's treatment I will remain blind. Even when the green clears to vision I won’t see – not like Holden. I’ll still look for my reflection in others. I’ll still search Naomi’s face for clues hoping I don’t find fear there again. I’ll ask Alex questions and either laugh with him or not understand what I said to piss him off. I’ll think of Prax and May and remember that I have a best friend on Ganymede. Or I’ll think about mercy every time I target a combatant and wonder what I would see in Reverend Anna’s eyes and if it would change me.
“Now I can say I took you in a fight,” Jim said. I heard him smile and I imagine I see me reflected in his words. I am his crew, his brother, his family.
“You can say what ever you want.”
Rise to the surface or sink to the bottom – everything else is the Churn - except Holden. He is outside the Churn. He is beyond its effect. He neither floats, nor sinks, nor churns. He knows and believes in something I can not see. I'm blind but Holden has Faith. And I believe him. When he tells me “I can’t lose you” — I believe that, too.
What ever you want, Cap. What ever you say – I’ll believe.
I have faith in you.