Chapter Text
Exhausting.
That's the word. Being the captain of a vessel is exhausting. Nothing you do is right, and everyone thinks they can do it better. The job calls for a certain personality, a certain resilience not found in your typical person. A cool-headed, rational, friendly, yet stern captain who would put the crew before themselves. Someone who would go down with their ship without any questions asked.
Someone who takes responsibility.
And as the future captain of the Tuplar looked at his copy of the contract, he wondered to himself if he really was all that. His manager surely seemed to think so as he handed Curly his company tote bag filled with motivational posters, a mug with the company logo, and a little plastic horse mascot. "Congratulations on the promotion, Shirley." And off he went with a slap on the back. At least the salary was nothing too short of amazing. There was also an additional bonus to this new promotion.
Jimmy walked out of the CEO's office, contract in hand. From afar, Curly spotted him from behind the reception desk. He shot up from the metal chair in the waiting room and slowly gravitated toward his friend, who had yet to spot him. It took a while, but eventually, Jimmy took notice of his colleague, who was standing on his toes, trying to look into the hallway. Slowly he sauntered over, folding the paper sharply in two, creasing it unevenly.
"And?" Curly asked, maybe a bit too excited as Jimmy passed by the reception. He scratched his neck, looking at the neglected copy. "You got it right?" Curly specified, approaching him. Jimmy had a lukewarm expression, reopening the paper as if he had forgotten what was on it. "I did." He softly said, offering the paper. Curly gently took it off his hands, holding it as if it were a royal decree.
"Hey, I told you!" He smiled, putting his hand on Jimmy's shoulder. "I told you they'd choose you!" He beamed, squeezing his shoulder. A smile slowly melted onto Jimmy's lips as Curly shook him a bit in excitement. "Yeah, yeah. They wouldn't have if you hadn't recommended me. So really, I should be thanking you." He reminded, gently punching Curly's arm in return. "You think upper management actually listens to me? Yeah right." Curly sighed, letting go of Jimmy and offering back his contract. "I don't know; you seem to have a pretty good reputation around these parts." Jimmy shrugged, snatching his paper.
"No, it was all you." Curly insisted, turning toward the exit. Jimmy stayed silent, mirroring Curly as he started walking. It was strange. All of it. Especially the way Curly pretended like he hadn't been moving heaven and earth for him to get this job. The countless evenings he spent pep-talking Jimmy to write his resume, the way he'd look exhausted whenever they hung out. And for what? Why?
Was it pity?
"How about we celebrate?" Curly said, holding the door for Jimmy. "What do you have in mind?" Jimmy mumbled, passing by the door. He slowly walked down the steps at the entrance of the building, not waiting up. "I say we start with a bang." Curly pondered, dribbling down the stone steps. "And we drink." He proposed, stepping in front of his friend, right before the end of the steps. Jimmy stopped in his tracks, looking down at his colleague. His friend. His captain.
"Now you're speaking my language."
Notes:
Hello one and all. I have succumbed to the hype and played Mouthwashing literally less than 12 hours ago. The ending was phenomenal and I would absolutely not change anything about it. However, the writer inside of me wants to see to it that Curly gets an ending he deserves. One where he doesn't end up half-dead. Therefore to soothe my own desires, I have decided to write that ending. (And since I'm a sucker for toxic yaoi, I've decided to throw that in as well).
I hope you enjoy this incredibly impulsive fic!
Chapter 2: Welcome aboard
Chapter Text
"Sorry, what was your name again?"
"Daisuke."
"And how do you write that?"
"D-A-I-S-U-K-E."
"… That's… Not how I'd write that."
Jimmy jotted down a few notes on his clipboard before looking up at the new intern.
"You look like you're ready to go on vacation." He commented, clicking his pen three times. "Oh, don't worry, I am in uniform." Daisuke insisted, pulling aside his floral flannel to reveal a company T-shirt underneath. "Fantastic." He mumbled plainly, holding the board under his arm.
"Welcome aboard Tuplar, Daisuke. I'm your co-captain; you can call me Jimmy." He formally explained as Daisuke looked around the lounge area. "Normally our captain would give you this whole song and dance, but since he's busy doing way more important stuff..." He mumbled. "I'll be the one giving you a tour." It didn't take long for Jimmy to notice he'd already lost the intern. He was too busy ogling the big LED screen displaying a clear blue sky.
"Daisuke."
Luckily for both of them, Daisuke heard his name being called out. Jimmy was one bad day away from having a yelling match with the first poor sod that rubbed him the wrong way. "Yes, sir?" He asked, focusing on the co-captain again. "Did you stow your luggage in the sleeping quarters?" Jimmy asked impatiently. "I did everything that was asked of me, sir." Daisuke affirmed, peering at the clipboard to maybe catch a glimpse of his evaluation.
"Then we can get right into it." Jimmy stated, walking toward the LED screen. "This is the lounge. You'll be spending most of your time here when you're not working with your mentor." He explained. "That's the kitchen; that's the dinner table; that's the living room situation we've got going on." He pointed at the landmarks a bit too quickly for Daisuke to catch on. "Questions? No? Next, we have the medical bay." Without any regard for if he was following, Jimmy made his way toward the med bay. He knocked on the door twice before opening the door.
"This is Anya the nurse." Jimmy monotonously said, pointing his pen at the woman sitting at the desk.
"Hey, you can't just-" She protested.
"Say hi to Anya, Daisuke the intern." Jimmy continued.
"Hi, Anya!" Daisuke quickly said, poking his head into the room.
"…Hello." She awkwardly replied, fidgeting with her hands under the desk.
"If you ever have a papercut or need some tissues, you go straight to Anya. Anything more and well…" Jimmy explained, looking toward the nurse, who looked rather embarrassed by now. "Let's just say, don't get hurt too bad during the trip." He advised, patting the intern on his shoulder. "The tour continues." He announced, walking away.
"Unbelievable…" Anya muttered under her breath as Daisuke hastily closed the door again.
_______________________________________________________________
"Swansea, this is your new intern."
The more experienced engineer stared at the younger man with a certain je ne sais quoi. If he had to label it, Jimmy would classify this look, which made the veteran look at least 10 times older than he was, as disdain.
"Whoopty doo." Swansea grumbled, arms folded over his beer belly.
"It's nice to make your acquaintance." Daisuke beamed, holding out his hand.
It took a few awkward seconds for him to realize Swansea was not going to shake hands.
"He should be more than capable of helping you around." Jimmy assured, looking at the clipboard again. "He's got a, uh, great GPA." He said, quickly going through his profile. "And he's physically in form." He added, giving Swansea a big customer-friendly smile. The head engineer wasn't having any of it. "I'll see what I can do with him." He uttered, getting back to whatever project he had lying around his desk.
"Observe closely, Daisuke. You can learn a lot from him." Jimmy instructed, patting the intern on the back. Not even a second later, Daisuke was closely following what his mentor was doing, much to his chagrin. Swansea shot Jimmy a dirty look as he nonchalantly walked out of the utility room, leaving behind his green colleague.
_______________________________________________________________
The door to the cockpit unceremoniously opened with its usual bombastically loud metal scraping. Jimmy looked up from the newest Pony Express brochure they distributed to everyone and their mother. Curly plopped down on his seat, next to Jimmy's with a groan. "Paperwork, man." He complained, cracking his neck. "It'll be the end of me." He groaned, fully relaxing into the cushioning.
"Busy day?" Jimmy asked after a moment of silence.
"We leave tomorrow. The executives wanted some final check-ups and I had to sign some papers." A few more elaborations rested on Curly's lips, but he decided not to say them out loud. "And I had to confirm that our cargo was in order." He added at the very last second.
"What are we shipping?" Jimmy asked, side-eying the captain.
"You don't wanna know." Curly sighed.
"Oh come on, you can tell me." Jimmy pushed, firmly grabbing Curly's shoulder.
"It's nothing exciting. If we were shipping something fun, I would've told you already." Curly smiled as he got shaken around.
"I want to know though." Jimmy insisted a bit softer, looking to the side. Curly looked at his friend, feeling a sense of emptiness radiating off him. "…I'll tell you when we're halfway there." He promised, sticking out his pinky. Jimmy looked at it as if it were a mockery. "We're too old for that." He scoffed softly, which made Curly look at him weirdly. "Who cares? It's just you and me here, right?" He retorted, tilting his head slightly.
Jimmy made eye contact with Curly. "We'll be on the road for a year. At least tell me after the first quarter." He bargained, folding his arms. "No, that's too soon. You know already telling you before we arrive is against company policy. I'd be willing to tell you after five months." Curly ranted. "Since when have you ever followed company policy, you dweeb?" Jimmy pointed out.
A grin crept onto Curly's lips as he slowly leaned forward, getting closer than expected. "Alright. I'll tell you in four months. Last offer." He haggled, raising his pinky once more. Jimmy looked at how Curly had leaned over his chair, leaning with his arm on Jimmy's. He looked at how the bags under his eyes had grown deeper once again. Somehow he still managed to look put together at all times. How does he do it? Surely this wasn't natural.
"Fine."
Jimmy linked his pinky with Curly's.
"Yeah, no, I definitely feel like a school girl now." Jimmy concluded, immediately pulling his hand away.
"Oh, don't be a baby." Curly chuckled, leaning back in his chair.
Chapter 3: Co-captain
Chapter Text
"Hey, Jimmy?"
It took some effort for Jimmy to open his eyes, letting the sharp lounge lights burn into his retinas. He felt disoriented until he realized he was on the couch. Someone put on the headlights in the living room. He put his hand on his eyes, humming in acknowledgment. "What's up?" He murmured groggily, turning to his side and closing his eyes again. "You should sleep in your bed if you're tired." Curly commented, shoving Jimmy's shoulder. "No, no, I'm up." Jimmy groaned, slowly coming upright, grunting as if he were made of old wood.
They departed only two weeks ago, and yet Jimmy felt so sluggish all the damn time. All he did today was nap and try to find the off button on that huge mascot near the dinner table. Every time he walked past that stupid thing, it scared the living crap out of him. Seriously, who designs a motion-detecting, motivational statue without an off button?
" … I talked with Anya." Curly started after a bit of reluctance. "Would it be a lot to ask you not to... pester her so much?" He asked, rubbing his neck. "Anya? Really? I thought you were talking about me pranking Daisuke so much." Jimmy huffed, which made Curly nervously smile. " … No, I'm talking about Anya." He repeated.
"What'd I do?" Jimmy asked confused, leaning back on the couch.
"Your jokes about her medical license are a bit sharp." Curly sighed, sitting down next to him.
"Can a guy not crack a joke once in a while?"
He got a poignant look out of Curly. "Yeah, I don't know." He shrugged, leaning back as well. "But maybe for the sake of the crew? Could you tone it down a tad?" He carefully asked, shifting his head toward Jimmy. They shared a look. One of them was rather pleading, the other a bit skeptical. "Fine, whatever. I'll stop being funny." Jimmy shrugged with a deep sigh. It made Curly bittersweetly smile at his hands. "Thanks, man." He smiled.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Jimmy grumbled, getting up from the couch. "I'm gonna make me one of those company-recommended cocktails." He exclaimed, walking over to the kitchen. "You want one?" He quickly asked, turning around. Curly looked deep in thought, only realizing Jimmy had asked him something when he looked up. "Hmm? No, no, I have the night shift." He said, shaking his head. " … Right." Jimmy mumbled, catching his fist with his hand. "Right." He repeated softer. "Yeah." Curly echoed back. "I'll be in the cockpit if you need me." He added, standing up. "Noted." Jimmy replied as he watched him walk toward the exit.
"Curly."
"Yeah?" Curly asked, stepping away from the door so he could look at Jimmy.
"I could take over some of your shifts if you're too tired to."
"No, no, I got it. Thanks though."
" … Okay."
"See you at dinner."
" … See you."
The metallic clicking of the door shutting tightly seemed to wake Jimmy up just a bit more — or at least, put him out of his daze. He stood like a salt pillar for a while before continuing his venture to the kitchen. Once he arrived, he felt the need to sit down, so he sat down on the countertop. He wasn't sure what this empty feeling in his chest signified. Something was different. Different than the last time they were on a haul. The walls of the Tuplar felt taller and narrower. It made him feel claustrophobic. The cockpit also felt more cramped, like they were sitting on top of each other all the time: being forced to watch how the captain did everything and just sit by as he did it.
Jimmy closed his eyes. He needed a drink. Slowly he made his way off the countertop and walked toward the booklet hung up on the wall. The cookbook had a severe lack of options, but at least it had the picture of a pretty, summery drink. One look at the ingredient list and a realization struck Jimmy. He didn't have authorization to get the sweetener packet. You needed a special code for that, which only the captain was allowed to know.
Only the captain.
For some ungodly reason.
And on top of that.
" … There's no alcohol in this." Jimmy muttered, double-checking the ingredients. He considered going to the cockpit and asking Curly to input the code, but that idea made him feel pathetic. No cocktail, then. Whatever.
Whatever…
_______________________________________________________________
A thousand small lights illuminated Curly's face as he stared at the screen displaying the ship's sonar. There was a surprising lack of obstructions this evening. At this rate, the only danger was him falling asleep during his shift. He raised his hands above his head, hearing his shoulders pop as he stretched his arms. Usually, the ship would be stationary during the night. However, to make sure the journey didn't take a full two years, they'd keep moving on certain nights.
He sighed, leaning back in the chair. Maybe he should've asked Jimmy to keep him company. He always seems to keep the mood light. Sure, he's a bit of a hothead when something goes wrong, but it never gets in the way of the ship's safety. Another sigh slipped out as he straightened his back.
Just then he heard the metal doors slide open. He turned in his chair. "Hi, Anya." He greeted with a soft smile. "Hello, captain." She returned, walking up to him. To be honest, out of anyone in the crew, Curly expected her the least to come knocking this late.
"Any reason why you're still up?" He asked. She shrugged, looking around the cockpit before her eyes landed back on him. "Couldn't sleep." She confessed a bit sheepishly. "Swansea snores quite loudly." She added. "I just make sure I'm asleep before he is." Curly chuckled, turning the co-captain's chair. "Come sit with me for a bit." He offered, patting the seat. "Oh, I didn't mean to bother you for long. Just wanted to check up on you since I knew you'd be awake." She quickly said, holding up her hands. "You're not bothering me." He told her with a shrug. After reassuring her once more, Anya conceded and sat down in the seat.
"I talked with Jimmy, by the way." He announced.
"Oh, I didn't think you would."
"He was being a bit snide the other day… It's hard to ignore that."
Anya grew silent, seemingly in thought. The silence was sometimes interrupted by the beeping of the sonar. Even though his task remained the same, Curly felt much less sleepy than before now that Anya was there. She also seemed less intense than Jimmy.
"I need to take psych evaluations soon." She said, breaking the silence. "Right, they told me about that." Curly mumbled that, sliding his gaze from the sonar to Anya. "It's just a formality at this point. Just see it as something to break the routine." She smiled which made him smile back. "You're on to something." He chuckled, turning his attention back to the screen.
"How's work been treating you?" Curly asked. "It's very peaceful right now. Daisuke comes in with small lacerations every so often, but it's nothing too major. He did glue his fingertips together with superglue yesterday." She explained, also turning toward the sonar. "I should tell Swansea to be more careful with him." Curly commented with raised eyebrows. Anya hummed with a wide grin.
"I hope Daisuke's attitude will have a positive impact on him." She said.
"It probably will, let's be honest."
"Probably. Whether he likes it or not."
"He probably won't." He laughed.
"Probably not." She giggled back.
Chapter 4: Good Morning
Chapter Text
With a firm yet clumsy grip, Jimmy pulled out his chair from the table. Everyone was already eating breakfast. No one had bothered to wake him up when he overslept. "Good morning." Curly mumbled, holding his hand in front of his mouth as he chewed. The rest remained silent. Jimmy acknowledged the captain with a grumble, sitting down at the head of the table. It remained silent for a few more seconds before Daisuke picked up the conversation that had seemingly ended when Jimmy arrived.
"All I'm saying is that foam seems like such an unconventional method." He blurted out, chowing down on his cracker with strawberry jam. "It's the best method." Swansea barked, glaring at his intern. "It's lightweight; it holds on tightly; it won't wither away." He explained, holding up one of his fingers for every point. "Stop yapping nonsense and read the manuals I've been giving you." He grumbled, taking a sip of his second coffee of the day. Daisuke sighed, which made Anya stifle a chuckle.
The conversation continued. Important announcements and unimportant anecdotes got thrown around by the crew. Jimmy sat back and listened as he ate, his head pounding. He slept terribly. Swansea kept snoring throughout the night, so he kept waking up. Usually, he'd tune it out or sleep with his pillow above his head. However, he also kept thinking about life stuff. His job. His previous ambitions. Every time he tried to stop thinking about it, his mind would wander off but eventually ponder about it all over again.
"We should be having a few calm days. The route looks completely clear." Curly stated, rubbing the crumbs off his hands. "This also means Jimmy and I will be checking your stations, so be sure to clean them up." He added, patting Jimmy on the back. "Yup, negligence of hygiene will not be tolerated." Jimmy agreed, looking down at his plate. "You're one to talk." Daisuke mumbled, which got him a sharp look from the co-captain.
"In any case." Curly quickly said. "You know what to do. You're dismissed." He ordered with a nod. Swansea was the first to get up and disappear into the hallway. Daisuke swiftly followed him up, stuffing another cracker in his mouth. Anya gathered the plates, and Curly grabbed the butter knives. "I'm still eating." Jimmy sneered at Anya, who tried to grab his empty plate.
The two disappeared into the kitchen as Jimmy continued eating an ungodly amount of crackers and pesto. The company favored prepackaged, canned, or bottled food over freeze-dried alternatives. Basically, this meant no dairy products, no fresh fruit or vegetables, no meat or fish, and no bread for breakfast. Daisuke looked shocked when he found out but has been coping seemingly. Maybe Swansea knocked some sense into him.
"By the way, before I forget." Curly said.
Jimmy turned his attention to the two in the kitchen. They were loading the dishwasher. He was talking to her. "You forgot your hair tie in the cockpit." He said, pulling up his sleeve slightly to reveal a black band around his wrist. "Ah, sorry." She said as he handed it back to her. "No problem. I would've kept it, but I have no use for it." Curly joked, which made Anya raise her eyebrow.
"You've got long hair though." She pointed out after a second.
"Yeah, but tying it up kinda goes against the cool captain image I'm trying to create." He smiled, leaning against the countertop.
"...No, I think you'd still look like a cool captain." She chuckled.
"Hey, Anya. Shouldn't you be cleaning the nursery?" Jimmy butted in from the dining table. The two turned their heads toward the sudden third participant of the conversation. He smiled at the two in a quite forced way. "I mean, Swansea and Daisuke, responsible as they are, have already left to clean their workshop. Shouldn't you do the same?" He suggested getting up from his seat and grabbing his plate. "I was going to in a second; we were just finishing the dishwasher." She said, a bit taken aback. "Well then. Load this in," He smiled, putting down the plate on the counter with a hard bang. "And get back to your station." He advised.
Anya immediately looked toward Curly, who was very awkwardly still sitting on the same countertop Jimmy slammed his plate onto. He looked at her and then at Jimmy. "Erm... I think Jimmy and I need to have a small meeting. Anya, don't worry about the plate. You go to your station." He ordered softly, hopping off the counter and touching Jimmy's shoulder. He pushed him out of the kitchen, glancing at Anya over his shoulder. She looked disturbed but followed his advice and left for the med bay.
"What was that?" Curly desperately asked.
"What was what?"
"That! The entire..." Curly took a minute to recompose himself.
He had yelled at Jimmy before. The result was a yelling match where Jimmy proved he could yell a thousand times louder than Curly ever could. When he looked back, Jimmy had his arms folded, radiating annoyance.
"What's up?" Curly asked, trying a different approach.
"I thought you didn't need help with piloting yesterday."
"What? I didn't?"
"Then why was she there?"
"...Is this why you were so rude to her?"
Jimmy tilted his head, a sour expression growing on his face.
"Listen, man. I have one main job on this vessel. You may be surprised to hear it's co-captaining. I know, shocking." He chastised.
"Jimmy-"
"And here is something more mind-boggling! Anya the nurse also has one main job. Can you guess what it is?"
"Can we not do this-"
"You're right, captain! She is a nurse!"
"...right."
"Then can you tell me why a nurse, who barely has a medical license, let alone a piloting license, was sitting on my chair?"
An exasperated sigh was threatening to escape Curly's lips. Jimmy could get all sorts of passive-aggressive when he was riled up, this was nothing new.
"She couldn't fall asleep because of Swansea's snoring, so she came to the cockpit." Curly explained calmly. Jimmy grew silent, narrowing his eyes. "I had a hard time staying awake so I appreciated her coming by to say hello. That is all." He added, lowering his gaze. With that being said, Curly finally let out a sigh.
"I asked if you needed help yesterday." Jimmy quietly said, clenching his arm.
"I didn't want to bother you. You looked tired."
Jimmy rubbed his face, saying something incomprehensible. He ran his hands from his face to his hairline, pushing his hair back. His hands then landed on the back of his neck where he let them rest.
"I'm tired because I feel like I'm not doing anything." He muttered.
"… You wanna sit down?" Curly offered, looking at the dining table.
Without saying another word, Jimmy sauntered over to his seat, passing the horse mascot who told him that teamwork makes the dream work. "Don't punch him." Curly warned as Jimmy clenched his fist toward the statue. Following Curly's advice he sat down on his chair.
"I know these past few weeks have been hard for you." Curly began. "But I need you to work on your temper. It's getting out of hand." He maintained. "We cannot run this vessel if you don't talk to me. So if you ever feel like something's wrong, even the smallest thing, talk to me." He insisted, folding his hands on the table and looking straight at Jimmy. The co-captain clenched his teeth as he looked at Curly's hands. "Fine, fine. I get it." He blurted out, wanting this conversation to end already.
"Thank you." Curly said with a small smile which bounced right off Jimmy's gloomy demeanor. Even though he had a tough interior and liked to make boundary-pushing jokes all the time, he quickly took offense when criticized. He'd get over it though. He always did.
"You can start by acting kinder to Anya." Curly advised which made Jimmy roll his eyes. "Like it or not, if you get an injury you'll be in her hands. It would be in your best interest to be kind toward her." He joked, patting Jimmy's shoulder.
"Yeah, yeah." Jimmy mumbled.
"Promise me."
"…I promise..."
Chapter 5: Psych Eval
Chapter Text
"Cartoon horses?" Curly repeated in disbelief, beckoning Anya to pass over the clipboard with the results of the psych evaluations.
With a deep sigh, she passed him the clipboard showcasing Jimmy's file. Anya had only written down a few things before giving up. She wasn't lying; it was in black and white: 'I have found myself sexually excited at the sight of cartoon horses'. To Anya, it looked like the captain was going into a state of shock.
"I don't understand…" He mumbled to himself. "I told him to..." He put down the clipboard, looking at Anya instead. "He wasn't being rude, but he wasn't being nice either." She explained that when she saw how caught off guard he looked at her. "How can someone not be rude and say stuff like that?" He inquired, mild frustration slowly seeping into his every word. Anya pressed her lips together. "… It's fine; I'll just retake his eval later." She said softly, clenching her hands.
"Anya, tell me what happened." He insisted, tapping on the report. By now Curly knew he had to encourage the medic to say what was bothering her. Just like Jimmy, she preferred to deal with it on her own and tolerate others's behavior. Very unlike Jimmy, she didn't do it destructively. Well, at least not destructive toward others.
She looked at the clipboard, taking a deep breath. "He came in this morning." She started.
_______________________________________________________________
"Good morning." Jimmy grinned as he slammed the door behind him shut. Anya slowly clenched her hand as she picked up the bottle of perception medication. She put it in one of the cabinets, locking it with a key, which she then hung on her belt. "I didn't know you would be here so early." She mumbled, folding her arms as she forced a polite smile. "Just wanna get it out of the way. I'm sure you have many things to do." He shrugged, looking at the radio that was playing some old pop song.
"What's this song called?" He asked, pointing at the CD player.
"It's 'Slipping through my fingers'."
"Doesn't ring a bell."
"From ABBA."
"Never heard of it."
"...you can take a seat." Anya politely said, shaking her head lightly.
Jimmy sat on the chair, leaning forward as Anya sat down. She slowly grabbed her clipboard as he intently watched her. "So for this psychological evaluation, I' ll have to check any changes that might have taken place regarding your mental health." Anya explained showing the template page clipped on her board. "Things like general well-being, relationships, hobbies, findings, and so on." She pointed at the list of items with her pen. "Sound good to you?" She asked, looking up. "Yup." Jimmy affirmed. "Great." Anya smiled, turning the board back to herself.
"So how have you been feeling recently?" She asked, clicking her pen.
"Eh."
"Can you try to put that into words?"
"Medial."
"Can you elaborate?"
"There is no booze on this vessel."
Anya looked up from her clipboard, giving a dubious expression.
"If I recall correctly, they used to have drinks on the Tuplar." Jimmy elaborated.
"Pony Express found that having no alcohol on the vessel improves team building by 15%." She informed.
"That sounds like a lie. Did you make that up just now?"
"…No?"
"Whatever." Jimmy huffed, leaning back. "Write down I'm doing fantastic with a smiley face. Next question."
Anya raised an eyebrow, slowly writing down that the co-captain was unhappy with the new rules of the Tuplar.
"Do you have a history of mental health problems in your family?" She sighed deeply.
"Yes."
"What kind of problems?"
"Serious ones."
"… Can you elaborate?"
"Let's see… My brother liked killing small animals and stuffing them."
A chill ran down Anya's spine.
"You can be less specific next time." She mumbled.
"Oh, my bad. I thought nurses would be immune to that kind of thing." He grinned.
"… I avoid it when I can." She uttered, writing down some things. "Anything else I should know of?" She carefully asked, glancing up. Jimmy looked up, tapping the side of his chin. His grin hadn't faded away yet.
"My father liked fishing up human remains in the nearby lake, and my mother liked to visit the graveyard every Friday morning." He smiled to Anya's horror. She tried to remain calm, her eyebrows twisting together. "I can elaborate, but then your stomach might get upset again." He added kindly.
"Is any of this even true?" She asked, lowering the clipboard.
"Anya." Jimmy gasped a bit too dramatically. "I would never, ever, not take your psychological evaluations as a joke. You're just doing your job as a nurse, and I'm doing my job as your patient." He denied.
"…Jimmy, are you aware I'm a medic and not a nurse?"
"Same difference."
"I…" She shut her mouth, looking at Jimmy, who looked a bit too content.
After a short staring match, Anya looked down and wrote that Jimmy's family was... detached from the social norms and had an obsession with the dead.
"Any new hobbies you've picked up on?"
"Yes."
"… Could you please elaborate when I ask you something?" Anya asked, clenching her pen slightly.
"Hmm? Oh yeah, sure, I'll elaborate, my bad." Jimmy shrugged. "My newest hobby is finding an off-button for that plastic horse statue that's in the middle of the lounge area for some reason. Every day I wake up, and it spits dumb one-liners at me while I try to eat breakfast. So I've been spending my free time trying to find a way to make it stop. And as I touched the thing all over, fondling it from top to bottom, pressing and pulling any little nob I could feel, I have found myself sexually excited at the sight of cartoon horses." He explained.
It felt like Anya's vision started to blur, her heart pounding in her ears. Did she hear that correctly?
"Should I elaborate more or?" Jimmy asked, looking at the clipboard. "I can describe it in more detail if you want to. So how I see it, I-"
"No, no, no. I think… I think it's time for a break." Anya spat out a bit more panicked than she intended.
"But we've just started."
"No, no, I think you need a break. Right now." She insisted, standing up, holding her arm out to the door.
"Should I come back in a few minutes or—"
"I'll call you back in."
"Great. See you later, nurse."
And as Anya clenched her fist, Jimmy strolled out of the medical bay.
_______________________________________________________________
"See what I mean?" Anya asked in exasperation. "He wasn't being mean; it's just..." She looked to the side, not knowing which word to label it with.
"Anya… I can't let you take his eval." Curly slowly said after some thinking. "He's being unreasonable."
"It's mandated. I have to send in a report tomorrow." She mumbled, looking at her hands.
"Give me that." Curly asked, holding out his hand. "I'll take the eval with him." He offered, looking at the clipboard.
"… Are you sure?"
"I don't know why he's acting like that to you, but he'll answer the questions if I do it."
Anya looked at the board in her hands. She must've done something wrong if Jimmy was still being so hostile toward her. Maybe she should try harder to make a connection with him. Either way, the eval had to be done as soon as possible. Reluctantly, she handed the board over to Curly, who smiled.
"I'll get this to you by tonight, alright?" He promised, holding the board tightly. "Thank you for trusting me with this." He added. Anya nodded, forcing a small smile. "I should be thanking you. I feel like I'm not doing my job properly." She admitted with a chuckle. Curly's smile slowly faded, and by the time he noticed, Anya was already looking away. "No, it's just Jimmy. This has nothing to do with you." He assured.
"… Alright, captain." Anya nodded.
"I'll see you later, okay?" Curly said, standing up from his seat.
"Yeah." She smiled, watching him rush off.
_______________________________________________________________
"Of course I fucking know ABBA." Jimmy huffed, crumpling up a page he'd thorn from a magazine.
Curly had asked Jimmy to follow him to the cockpit. He seemed normal up until he was informed why they were there. As soon as Anya was mentioned, Jimmy sighed, sitting down in his seat and leaning back as far as he could. He looked like a teenager who got told they couldn't go to a party.
"Is that the first thing you have to say for yourself? You are unbelievable." Curly mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I was just having a bit of fun." Jimmy argued, tossing the crumpled-up page toward the trash bin and missing horribly. "What about your family?" Curly pushed, looking at the clipboard. "You've met them. They're as nuclearly normal as they get." Jimmy chuckled, tearing another page from the magazine. "… And the cartoon horses?" Curly asked carefully, narrowing his eyes.
"Curly, please." Jimmy laughed, looking right at him.
"So you lied through the entire exam then?"
"No, I am feeling medial. There's not a drop of alcohol, except for the medical cabinet."
"Jimmy, this is a serious report." Curly repeated, sounding frustrated. Jimmy tossed another crumpled-up page toward the trash bin and missed yet again. "Are you even listening?" He raised his voice, grabbing the magazine Jimmy was destroying and getting right up in his face. He leaned over him, holding the back of the chair. "You cannot treat the medic like that." He hissed.
The co-captain looked unimpressed, aside from his twitching eyes. "I'm listening." He confirmed, scanning Curly's face. "Take procedures seriously." Curly sneered, backing away again and tossing the magazine right in the trash bin. With a thud, he sat on his own chair beside Jimmy, who was now sitting up straight.
"I will be taking over for Anya just this once. But when she needs to take another eval, you will cooperate." Curly demanded, sounding less than pleased. When he looked up at Jimmy, he saw a certain irritation mixed with sadness on his face. It was then that Curly realized he'd never yelled at him before. It felt like he lost his grip on the matter. This wasn't like him at all.
"… I'm just trying to keep the team together." Curly softly said.
"I know you are." Jimmy responded, looking toward the command deck. "Look, can we just get this over with and go back to normal? I hate the way you're looking at me."
"Right, sorry." Curly looked at the clipboard. "So, how have you been feeling?"
"…Medial."
Chapter Text
"Anya?"
Curly poked his head inside the medical bay. No one was there. When he stepped inside, he noticed the radio was still playing ABBA, albeit a bit softer than when he was there. Not immediately knowing where Anya had gone off to, Curly sat around for a bit, waiting for her to show up. After a few minutes passed, he assumed she wasn't going to show up any time soon. Knowing he still had a lot to do today, Curly gently placed the clipboard on her desk.
Turns out, Jimmy had a lot to say about his mental health when he wasn't busy being an asshole. Although most of it didn't get written down in the end. A lot of his problems would potentially be an inconvenience for the company. He couldn't let them know about it. They essentially had a heart to heart. Curly and Jimmy were good friends, although they were more companions than actual friends. The difference was that they liked to hang out and talk, but never too long to actually know each other.
Surface level and no stakes.
Safe for all parties involved.
So as Curly was writing down things about Jimmy he'd never heard of before, he realized they were having an actual conversation. A serious, non-sarcastic dialogue. He learned about Jimmy's past, how he came from a poor household, how he flunked high school and started working when he was 17. He didn't really have tons of free time, so he didn't have any hobbies. That's why he felt uncomfortable when he didn't have anything to do in the Tuplar. He told Curly about his dad and about how his mom left. He told Curly about his favorite food being mac and cheese out of a box.
"This is getting sad." Jimmy mumbled just when he started talking about the dinosaur phase he had as a kid. "No, it's interesting." Curly argued, clicking with his pen. The clipboard had been put aside for a while now. They'd been talking for what felt like a few moments, but it was midnight already. "Nah … It's just all menial stuff; nothing worth talking about." Jimmy shook his head, rubbing his thumb and index finger together. Curly let out a sigh with a bittersweet smile.
"You know what I hate?" He asked, turning toward the command deck. "What?" Jimmy asked, following his gaze. "Space." Curly responded with a smile. A harsh scoff slipped from between Jimmy's lips. "You chose the right profession then." He commented. "I hate the feeling of not being grounded, more specifically." Curly explained. "I don't like the idea that if I were to get sucked out of the ship accidentally, I'd be falling forever." He chuckled. "I like … Knowing that when I fall, I'll always hit even ground no matter where I fall from." He smiled at Jimmy.
"You have some weird fucking thoughts." Jimmy pointed out. "Must be nice having that much time to think of that sort of crap." He mumbled, which made Curly let out roaring laughter. "Sorry, that sounded a bit abstract." Curly heaved, wiping away a tear. Jimmy looked confused; what he said wasn't that funny. "I like snowboarding," Curly said, as if that explained anything.
"So you like controlled falling?" Jimmy put together after staring at him for a while. "Essentially." Curly admitted. "You have to admit that space is scary." He said, leaning back. Jimmy let out something that resembled a sigh but was too exasperated to be one. "I find it's... not the scariest thing out there." He mumbled. Curly was going to ask for an elaboration, but then he looked at Jimmy's conflicted gaze.
"I don't think there's anything out there for me." Jimmy croaked out, immediately straightening himself out. He tried desperately to harden his shell again, wiping his hands on his pants and turning away. Curly didn't know what to say to that. "Sure you do." He tried, putting his hand on Jimmy's back. "No, I don't." Jimmy insisted, jumping up from his chair to evade the sudden touch. "I don't have ambitions, I don't have family, I don't... I don't have a loved one. I'm just doing what I'm supposed to, and that's it!" He yelled, turning toward Curly, who stayed glued to his seat.
"I feel like an empty box, Curly, I-" He put his head in his hands. Was he really going to start crying? In front of the fucking captain of all people? No. No fucking way. Get a fucking grip.
"Jimmy."
Through all the thoughts swarming in his head, Jimmy managed to look up from his hands toward Curly. He was still seated, his hands folded. "You don't need to fix everything right now." He said slowly. Jimmy stared at him, hands still cupped slightly. A tear managed to escape the confines of his eye, which he quickly managed to wipe away before it rolled off his cheek. He turned away. They remained silent for a while, Jimmy folding his arms to look at the tall iron cabinet in the cockpit.
"Life is like that sometimes." Curly carefully said. "No one lives in their perfect reality. Most of us don't even live in a bearable one." He continued talking, even though Jimmy looked unresponsive. "But you can't let that consume you." He pled. A few seconds of silence passed again before Jimmy starkly marched out of the cockpit, not looking back. The doors shut loudly, leaving Curly sitting alone with a mostly empty clipboard.
He filled in what he could remember and made up some stuff when he couldn't. It was early morning by the time he finished. He did some stretches, tried real hard to pretend he wasn't sleepy, and then headed to the medical bay.
And that's where he was now. Recounting the events made him realize that Anya was probably still sleeping, just like everyone else. She must've forgotten to shut down the radio. With a simple click, he turned off the radio, creating an eerie silence in the bay. It made sense why she always had that thing on. Realizing this, he turned it back on. After that, he left the bay, leaving the psych evaluation on her desk.
Not wanting to wake anyone up by entering the sleeping quarters, he ended up crashing on the couch. The doors always made such loud noises when they opened and closed. He'd have to report this to HR. He sat down, thinking he'd just rest his eyes for a minute, waiting for the other people to wake up too.
As he drifted off slowly, he thought of Jimmy. Maybe he should've gone after him to talk it out; Make sure he was okay. Maybe he should have. Maybe.
_______________________________________________________________
"I know it was you!"
"Guys, cut it out!"
Curly snapped awake, the bright LED screen shining on his face. He jerked his head toward the noise, seeing Swansea had pinned an unimpressed Jimmy to the wall. Daisuke was trying to separate the two, and Anya stood nearby, too shocked to say anything. Curly stumbled on his feet, feeling nauseous from suddenly waking up. His head spun as he took a few uncertain steps, trying to find his balance. When he did, he ran over, pulling Swansea away from Jimmy by the collar. That didn't stop either from screaming insults.
"Alright, alright!" Curly barked when the two wouldn't stop yelling at each other. Daisuke took a step back, looking quite impressed at the fuming captain. "What's going on here?!" He berated, looking between the two and then toward the bystanders. Swansea first pulled himself out of Curly's grip, straightening his polo.
"Come and see for yourself!" He grumbled, storming off. With a bit of hesitance, Curly followed him straight to Utility. Once there, Swansea had already made a grand gesture toward a horrific sight. The metal locker that stored the mechanic's equipment had been wrecked. It looked like a crushed soda can.
"Your good-for-nothing co-captain destroyed my fucking locker!" He roared, pointing at the metal structure. "There was some valuable stuff in there!" He raged. In the meantime, the other three had shuffled into the room. Curly immediately looked at Jimmy, who looked to the side, arms folded. "How do you know it was him?" The captain asked, turning back to the engineer. "Just look at him!" Swansea exclaimed, pointing at Jimmy.
"What's he talking about?" Curly asked, turning his attention back to Jimmy.
"No fucking clue." Jimmy shrugged.
"You fucking liar! Show him your hands!" Swansea yelled, stomping toward him. He yanked one of Jimmy's hands, holding it out for everyone to see. From the glance Curly got before Jimmy retracted his hand, cursing Swansea as he did, there was little room for debate. His knuckles were torn up. "I suggest you come up with an explanation before I beat you to a pulp!" Swansea badgered, pushing Jimmy backward. This made him yell profanities at the mechanic. Meanwhile, Daisuke and Anya tried to mediate, but that wasn't helping at all. The situation was escalating quickly, and Curly didn't know what to make of it.
What he did know was that he had to put an end to it.
"Everyone stop!"
He again had to physically separate the two before anyone would listen. "Stop!" He repeated, now sounding absolutely furious. "We're not animals! We're not fighting this out!" He sneered at his crew, pushing Jimmy way out of reach for Swansea. Now with his back facing the culprit, shielding him as it were, he spoke to the other three.
"Swansea, I'll make sure you're compensated for the locker and whatever's broken." He said. "Go cool off." He ordered, which got a sour look out of Swansea. He didn't want to get ordered around. But with the little respect he still had for Curly as captain, he stormed out of the room. "Daisuke, carefully empty the cabinet so Swansea can inspect it later." He said, now turning toward the two others. "Anya, go help him and make sure nothing breaks." He added. The two looked at each other before slowly walking toward the busted locker. Curly could feel his heart beating in his chest, his throat dry. He never had to do this before.
He turned around, seeing a frozen Jimmy. His gaze was on the floor, head held high. When Curly turned around, he slowly looked up.
"And you're coming with me." Curly said in a low tone, his expression unreadable.
Chapter Text
"Hold still," Curly mumbled, grabbing Jimmy's hand. He flinched, but not because of Curly's antiseptic.
It stung.
"Why'd you do it?"
The question hit Jimmy like a bullet train. He looked up from his hand only to be met with the top of Curly's head. He was busy disinfecting every little cut on his hand. "And don't say you didn't do it," Curly added, putting down the cotton swab. "I wasn't going to." Jimmy huffed, which got a short glance from Curly before he went back to work. "...I had... I needed to..." Jimmy tried but eventually fell silent again.
He couldn't explain it.
He couldn't explain how he saw red when he left the cockpit and headed to the first, isolated room he saw. How the adrenaline entered his veins, how he paced and pulled on his hair. How he bumped into the locker and, in a fit of rage, punched it. Ag ain. And again. And again.
How do you say that to someone?
You don't.
And Curly understood that, even though he didn't know it.
"... you must've h it hard to do so much damage." He said, cupping the bandaged hand. "Did you do any boxing in your time?" He asked, finally looking up. "… No, I just... work out a bit." Jimmy explained. Now that Curly was finally looking at him, he couldn't maintain eye contact very well. "A bit? That's not what the locker told me earlier." Curly chuckled weakly, giving Jimmy's hand a light squeeze. "And neither does this." He added softly, his gaze lowered.
"…Curly, I-"
"Give me your other hand." Curly said as he dropped Jimmy's bandaged hand like a bag of bricks.
"…"
"…It's also wounded, right?" He asked after Jimmy stared at him for a while.
Reluctantly, Jimmy retracted one hand and offered the other. Curly took hold of that one and repeated the process all over again. This time in silence. Jimmy couldn't tell if the captain was angry, tired, or no longer felt like talking. All seemed possible. He no longer held his hand as securely, balancing it on his fingers instead. His eyes were fixed, his gaze concentrated. The more Jimmy looked at him, the more apparent it became. He was dead tired.
"I handed in the report a few hours ago." Curly chimed in, letting go of Jimmy's hand. "It says you are mentally stable." He smiled bitterly. "How am I supposed to convince Anya to hand it in after all this?" He asked genuinely, propping his hands on his thighs. Jimmy clenched his hands, the bandages tightening against his skin. "I doubt she would've fixed you up if I'd asked." Curly pushed again. "So how am I supposed to ask her to clear you?" He asked again, a desperate smile on his face.
This.
This was it.
That indescribable feeling Jimmy got whenever he saw Curly. The feeling that whenever Curly saw him, his face would twist to one of pity. It made him feel like shit. Like some sort of accident no one asked for. A mistake. That smile on Curly's face solidified it.
"I don't fucking know!" Jimmy exclaimed, flying up from his seat. "I never asked you to-" He started looking around and then back at Curly. "Stand up for me or forge my shit or do this!" He yelled, looking at his hands. "I never asked you to do any of it!" He repeated, clenching his hands.
"Calm down, Jimmy." Curly said in a low tone, staying in his seat. "You said we're not animals! You said that! Yet you treat me like some sort of-" Jimmy yelled, trying to find the right word in his head. "Some sort of... untamed dog that you need to make excuses for so they don't put him down!" He raged, clenching his hair.
"That's not what I-"
"You want me to fall in line? Fine, I will." Jimmy sneered, pointing at Curly, who got up from his seat. "You want an obedient dog? Well, here I am, captain." He scoffed, getting right up in his face. "I'll be obedient. But don't you ever go and try to 'fix' my shit ever again." He whispered, eyes wide. "I don't fucking need you to." With that, he stormed off, bumping Curly's shoulder as he did, leaving him alone in the medical bay.
_______________________________________________________________
He hated it. He hated being who he was. Jimmy paced the hallway between Utility and the medical bay at least 20 times. One of those times, he ran into Anya. She lowered her gaze, pretending she didn't see him. It infuriated him. Not only because people would rather avoid him, their co-captain, but also because Curly had told him this—several times. Maybe Jimmy didn't want to see it. Or maybe he didn't want to understand it.
He paced five more times after that.
Finally, he ended up in front of the closed Utility door. He heard some ruckus inside, but nothing major. He wasn't sure what he was going to say once inside. Maybe he wouldn't have a chance to say anything before Swansea kicked him out. Still, he was willing to give it a shot, if only to shut up that voice in his head.
Just as he was about to knock, he got reminded how fucked his knuckles were. Some blood was already staining the inside again. Curly was never the best at first aid. He tried with the side of his hand but immediately felt a sharp pain. With a groan, he quickly used the palm of his hand to continue banging on the door.
It didn't take long for someone to open the door.
"Oh… hey, man." Daisuke mumbled, keeping the door half-open. "Hey, I just wanted to talk to Swansea real quick," Jimmy mumbled back, not really knowing what to do with his hands. Eventually, he just folded his arms, tucking them away. "Erm…I dunno if this is a good time…" Daisuke whispered, looking over his shoulder. Right as Jimmy was about to make a snarky comment, a loud voice cut through the whispering.
"Don't speak for me, you brat."
Jimmy looked past the intern to see the mechanic sitting behind the desk, welding some wires of a cable together. Daisuke let out a sigh, opening the door fully to let Jimmy in. They exchanged a look before Jimmy headed to Swansea. The mechanic didn't look up from his work, carefully continuing with what he was doing. Meanwhile, Daisuke leaned against the wall, readying himself to jump in if needed.
"So..." Jimmy started, keeping his arms folded. "…I made a lapse in judgment." He started, which made Swansea put down his tools. "You think so?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. It took a grand amount of self-control for Jimmy to simply nod and not roll his eyes. "I apologize for wrecking your cabinet, and I'd gladly repay you." Jimmy proposed.
"Hmm." Swansea hummed, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, no, I'd just rather you get out of my fucking face." He quipped with a smile on his face. Upon hearing this, Daisuke made a goofy 'oh shit' face, and Jimmy bit the inside of his cheek.
"Come on, man, let me just pay you back." Jimmy insisted.
"Ha!" Swansea exclaimed. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? I don't want your money, though."
Jimmy let out a sigh through his nose, clenching his fists under his arms even though he felt them thump in pain.
"I think the fact that you broke your hands and then got lectured by the captain is enough reconciliation for me." Swansea pointed out, which made Jimmy widen his eyes. Black spots started crowding his vision, framing Swansea's face. "I don't like dwelling on stuff. Just stay out of Utility and fuck off." He grumbled, picking up his welder again.
He couldn't remember it, but at some point, Jimmy must've left Utility and gone back to the lounge to sit on the couch. He couldn't remember for how long he was sitting there. He just knew that he snapped out of it when his bandage ripped. His hands were pounding, and his palms had nail indents.
What was he even doing anymore?
Chapter Text
"Are you sure?" Curly asked.
"Just hand me the fucking box." Jimmy sneered, holding out his bandaged hands.
Warily, Curly surrendered the heavy box with food packs to his co-captain. Jimmy winced as he took it over, his hands still severely damaged. "Let's go." He mumbled to Curly, who grabbed a second box. They headed from the storage room to the lounge, where Daisuke stocked the food machine with its contents. "You really should be able to do this alone, man." Jimmy complained, putting down his box on the counter.
"They're heavier than they look." Daisuke nervously chuckled as Curly put down his box as well. "You got some muscle on you." Curly commented, tapping the side of Daisuke's arm. "I mean, yeah, but..." He stammered, looking up at the two well-built men. "I'm not as strong as I'd want to be." He smiled, opening the next box. Jimmy rolled his eyes, heading to the couch to escape this conversation. Seeing this, Curly held in a sigh before he started folding the empty carton boxes. "What do you mean by that?" He asked the intern.
Daisuke sighed deeply, undoing the plastic around the packets. "Nothing really." He said, grabbing five base packets and shoving them into its compartment. "I just wish we had a gym here or something." He huffed, which made Jimmy scoff from afar. Curly looked over his shoulder but saw Jimmy's back as he plopped on the couch. "You don't need a gym to get buff." Curly said cautiously, turning back to Daisuke. "I guess so." Daisuke admitted, continuing with his work.
"Tag along the next time I do my routine." Curly offered.
"Wait, really?" Daisuke asked, looking up.
"Why not? The more, the merrier."
"I don't know... Maybe you don't want to train with someone who can't keep up."
"Don't worry about that. Working out isn't about who's better."
"I guess." Daisuke smiled, taking out the last packs.
Although Curly found this entire interaction incredibly sweet, he couldn't help but pick up on the gloomy vibes Jimmy was radiating from across the room. He'd been like this ever since Curly patched up his hands. He talked strictly business in the cockpit and flat-out avoided him outside. It was a miracle Curly managed to get him to move the boxes from storage to the kitchen. Even though Jimmy was extremely salty, he couldn't pass up on a task only he could help with.
And those boxes were unbearably heavy.
In general, Curly was a very worrying person. He cared about the Tuplar, the job, and the crew. Besides being part of the crew, Jimmy was also a friend. Jimmy didn't show it, didn't talk about it, never talked about it, but Curly knew his hands were hurting. The way his hands jittered, how they'd cramp up. How Jimmy would stare at them when he thought no one was looking.
It was quite a shock when he saw Jimmy's hands up close after the incident. He was a few good punches away from breaking his hands completely. It made Curly spiral about how much worse it could've been. The man repeatedly punched a metal locker for fucks sake.
"-So that's about all I do. It's not a lot, but I'm sure you'll be able to give me some advice." Daisuke rambled, folding the carton box he'd just emptied. Curly looked up at him, giving an uncertain smile. "Hm…? Yeah! Yeah, for sure." Curly quickly said, taking the piece of carton from Daisuke. "Great! I'll get back to work then." Daisuke beamed, finger-gunning the door toward Utility. "I'll see you at dinner, captain!" He quickly saluted before waltzing away, leaving the door half-open and humming an unfamiliar melody. Well, unfamiliar to Curly.
He stayed in the kitchen for a while, tidying up and wiping the counter and the dining table. To some extent, he knew Jimmy was watching him from the couch. It felt a bit childish: giving the cold shoulder but still wanting to see what you were up to. While walking around the table to collect crumbs and whatnot, Curly walked by the Mascot statue, who loudly announced.
"Polle says: Are you working hard or hardly working? Hihi."
Curly froze mid-action. Suddenly the silence that fell in the lounge felt more intense than before. He didn't dare to at first, but slowly his gaze wandered over to Jimmy, who was now full-on staring at Curly.
"What are you looking at?" Jimmy scorned as soon as they locked eyes from across the room.
"Uh…Nothing, nothing." Curly shook his head, looking back at the dining table.
"Uh-huh. Hey, if you agree with that stupid pony, keep that to yourself."
"What? No… What?" Curly asked, tilting his head back to him. "Jimmy, you don't seriously believe-"
"Bah, whatever, man." Jimmy groaned, getting up from the couch. "I don't care."
A couple of seconds later, Jimmy stormed out of the lounge, slamming the door shut behind himself. A delayed sigh escaped Curly's lips. His gaze moved from the door to the couch, and finally to Polle. Its plastic eyes stared back at him. He wrung the damp cloth between his hands, unenthusiastically continuing to wipe them down. Polle decided to say one more thing before Curly left to dispose of the rag.
"Teamwork is the dreamwork!"
_______________________________________________________________
Where did it go wrong?
Curly couldn't identify a moment where Jimmy went from just being a bit sarcastic to an actual menace. Well, maybe menace was a big word. What do you call someone who terrorizes colleagues and cannot control their anger outbursts? A bad colleague? A disturbed individual? Someone who needs therapy?
It was funny. Somehow Curly felt the need to censor his thoughts. To sugarcoat what he was thinking before he was even thinking it. What do you call that?
Curly groaned, propping up his elbows on the command desk to bury his head in his hands. While doing this, he accidentally pushed a button, shifting the trajectory by one degree. Immediately panicking, he quickly fixed the coordinates to what they were supposed to be.
Because he felt on edge for a long time after that, the sound of the fax machine nearly gave him a heart attack. After taking a minute to recollect himself, he reached for the paper that had appeared in the bin. "Calm down…" Curly whispered to himself, extending each word in the form of a sigh. He put his cold hand on his hot forehead. There was no need for him to be this jittery over a loud noise.
After taking another minute to cool off, he took a look at what message Pony Express had relayed. On first glance, there wasn't a lot of text, so it was probably nothing important.
"…"
Curly let out a forced sound of laughter before reading the message again. Then he checked if the stamp Pony Express always put on their message was authentic. It was, of course. Of course it was. He read it again for good measure. Curly had a habit of reading things too quickly and drawing the wrong conclusion when he was stressed.
But of course, the more he read it, the more it sunk in.
Hmm. Okay. Why would they tell him this now? Right now? Now of all times? When everyone is basically feeling like shit. The crew has never been this unstable before. And now the company behind the crew wants the captain to conceal this from them until a month before arrival? Okay. Okay. That's roughly, what, 200 days away? And after those 200 days, Curly would have to stand before his crew and tell them they were all fired. Including himself.
He read the message again before crushing it into a ball. He held it in his hands, pressing his forehead against them. There was not a single hair on Curly's head that wanted to break this news. Ever.
How lucky was it that he was here alone? That Jimmy wasn't here to witness this?
"My God…" He whispered, his eyes wide.
Chapter Text
"A party?" Anya asked, shifting her weight from one leg to the other.
Jimmy started regretting saying anything at all. "Remember how we did one for Swansea?" He said, pointing to the mechanic who was sitting on the couch. "What a blast that was." Swansea commented unenthusiastically, slowly turning the page of his sports magazine. " For who would we throw one?" Anya asked, turning back to Jimmy.
"…For Curly, obviously." Jimmy mumbled. The two others looked at each other briefly, making Jimmy even more on edge. "Look, I just... I need to do this." Jimmy insisted, looking away. "So either help me organize it or fuck off." He mumbled.
There was no way he'd ever admit this to anyone, but Jimmy started feeling guilty about what had happened. More specifically, he felt guilty about the way he treated Curly after the incident. Every time he had to sit next to Curly in the cockpit, it cemented the feeling just a little more.
"What a nice way to ask people for help." Swansea snickered, turning another page. "I think it's a good idea, Jimmy." Anya chimed in, defusing the conversation. As far as she was concerned, the crew could use an event like this to alleviate some tension.
"We could throw a surprise party," she suggested.
"Not a bad idea." Jimmy agreed, folding his hands.
The two continued planning out the occasion, with Swansea sporadically giving input. It was certainly weird for the three of them to agree on anything, but it felt like a nice change of pace. It certainly helped that Jimmy felt like he was in charge. Everything suddenly felt ten times easier. They'd ask a question, he'd answer it, and they'd accept it. He didn't have to go to the captain to ask if it was okay. The captain had no say in this. Only he did.
"We'll do it tomorrow afternoon then." Jimmy repeated so it was clear for everyone. The two nodded, mumbling something akin to an agreement. "I'll tell Daisuke tomorrow. He won't be able to keep it for himself." Swansea mumbled, returning to his magazine. "Have a bit more faith in him." Anya proposed but immediately got denied by Swansea's overwhelming grumbling.
_______________________________________________________________
Curly hadn't slept a wink. In fact, he didn't even go to his quarters. He opted for momentarily passing out in the cockpit. Just momentarily since the driver alert was on. If Curly didn't touch the command deck for a couple of minutes, a loud blaring alarm went off. He'd immediately wake up and deactivate it before eventually dozing back off. This little game went on until the morning.
Breakfast time came and went, but Curly couldn't get himself to face the others. Jimmy came into the cockpit at some point during the day but didn't utter a single word to Curly. So they sat in silence, pretending they couldn't see the other.
Jimmy wasn't in there for long, he just quickly came to check the log before wandering off.
His presence made Curly realize just how scared he was to announce the news. He knew he could handle Jimmy. Whatever happened, Jimmy would never do something that couldn't be fixed. That thought comforted him. It was also the final argument he made before deciding he'd tell the crew about the layoffs.
There was no way he'd be able to wait any longer. He was still going to be the captain of this ship, even if he'd be fired later. If he wanted to do this job properly, he'd have to be transparent with his crew. Any problems that would grow from this transparency, he'd solve later.
_______________________________________________________________
"The cake!" Daisuke gasped, looking up from the kitchen manual.
The realization hit Jimmy like a bag of bricks as the intern quickly ran toward him. "We forgot about the cake!" Daisuke repeated. "Quickly make one then." Swansea hollered from the dining space, where he was hanging up the last balloons. "He can't." Jimmy quickly pointed out. "The sweeteners are off limits. Only Curly can access it." He explained begrudgingly. "Well, you're co-captain; can't you access it?" Daisuke asked.
Jimmy thought about grabbing the special lamp from the cockpit locker but realized he'd probably bump into Curly.
"We can ask him to help us later." Anya suggested setting the plates. This idea made Jimmy want to claw his eyes out, but he knew it was the only solution they had left. Soon Curly would have to start his daily check-ups with the crew. They didn't have any time for clever tricks. They decided to concede the cake and get ready to surprise the captain.
"I found these." Daisuke beamed, holding up four party hats. "Ah, god, not those things again." Swansea complained, raising his nose. "I thought you threw them away." He sneered at Jimmy, who raised his shoulders. "Curly liked them." He sighed.
"God damn it, man. For once you listen to Captain, and it's for party hats?" Swansea groaned.
"Well I… I just… He seemed so... You know what? I don't have to explain myself to you." Jimmy fumed.
"You sound like a hormonal teen." Swansea snickered after a brief silence.
Before Jimmy could threaten to beat up the mechanic with his half-broken hands, Daisuke put a party hat on him. The realization of how stupid he must look right now was enough to quell his anger. The others also put on their hats, and together they waited for Curly to enter the lounge.
They waited for a while. For the first time, Curly was late to his daily check-ups. It worried some and annoyed others. Jimmy felt nervous. Had he pissed off Curly so much that he was refusing to show up? No. What kind of captain was he if he couldn't even do his job properly?
The lounge door suddenly slid open, shaking everyone awake. It felt like they all inhaled at once right before they cheered with varying levels of enthusiasm.
"Surprise!"
Curly almost got a heart attack. He backed away, sliding door still in hand. When he realized what just happened, he reopened the door again. His eyes scanned the crew and then the room. He couldn't think of a single word to utter in response.
"Ha! Look at your face!" Daisuke wheezed, stepping forward to give Curly a playful punch in the arm. Anya smiled at him, snickering along with Daisuke. "Cheers." Swansea said, looking brighter than usual. That only left Jimmy, who gave him an awkward half-smile before looking away.
"Oh, wow." Curly said in a tone that tried to cover the horror he was experiencing. A silence fell as Curly tried his best to act normal. Anya explained something about a communal birthday party. Stuff he already knew about but had completely forgotten. "Right." Curly mumbled, looking at all the party decorations.
"Wow, guys… I… When did you plan this?" Curly asked, smiling weakly. Jimmy's throat started to clench as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.
"We all just-"
"It was all Jimmy's idea." Swansea pointed out.
If it was possible to dig a hole right here and now, Jimmy would. He'd then jump in it and float away into space. It felt like a less grueling experience than having Curly look toward him with a hint of surprise like he was right now.
"That's, uh… That's very kind of you." Curly smiled hesitantly.
That bit of hesitance made Jimmy paranoid. It ticked him off. What's up with the sudden wariness? Did he piss off Curly so badly that he had to look at him like that? Why was he looking at him like that?
"We're so sorry to ask this of you, but..." Daisuke suddenly said, snapping Jimmy out of his head. "We couldn't make the cake without the proper authorities." He explained sheepishly. Understanding the hint, Curly told everyone to go have a seat while he prepared the cake. As everyone sat down, he turned toward the kitchen, his heart beating out of his chest.
Talk about bad timing.
Should he just not say anything? No, he had to tell them.
Chapter Text
"This tastes … " Daisuke said, his mouth half-full with cake. "Pretty bad." He sulked, putting down his fork. "It kind of reminds me of those mug cake mixes." Anya commented, pushing around a piece of her slice with her fork. "I've had worse." Swansea grumbled, eating another bite.
"You know, at least the texture is good." Daisuke half-smiled toward Curly.
"The icing is nice and vibrant too." Anya added with a nod.
"And it was nice that the machine played a little tune! Very festive." Daisuke beamed.
While the two tried to praise the chalky, unflavored sponge cake, Jimmy intently stared at Curly. The captain seemed to be nodding and smiling at the other three crewmembers, not saying much himself. Something was off. He knew that Curly would never pass an opportunity to chat with the crew. Especially in moments like these. Jimmy picked at his food, becoming more and more irritated by the second. This party was supposed to make everything go back to normal. So then why did everything feel more weird?
"We really should've gotten a fifth party hat for you, captain." Daisuke sighed. "I only found four in the set." He chuckled sheepishly. "That's because everything on the Tuplar is catered to four crew members." Swansea explained. "Four beds, four cryopods, four party hats." He mumbled, slicing off another piece of cake.
Curly tensed up after hearing that. He'd been rubbing his fingers together on the table, looking at the others with a vacant look in his eyes. He remained indecisive. When was a good time to bring it up? Actually, that was a bad question. There would never be a good time to bring this up. All he could do now was hope he had the strength to say it before everyone left.
"You haven't touched your slice." Jimmy pointed out. It was the first thing he said ever since they sat down. Curly looked at him, his gaze betraying a certain uneasiness. He tried to camouflage it with a smile, but Jimmy was already staring him down. "It's your birthday party, captain. Eat." Jimmy insisted, his gaze fixed on Curly.
Just then, Curly's empty stomach started contracting. On top of feeling lightheaded, his anxiety had now also affected his gut. It was almost as if Jimmy had willed another ailment into existence. Curly felt like throwing up. "I... I can't." He half-smiled, shaking his head. "Why not?" Jimmy immediately replied, a responsive smile curling on his lips.
" … I'm not hungry-"
"Sure you are! I haven't seen you at diner, breakfast, or lunch." Jimmy responded. "You must be starving. Have a bite."
"Really, I'm fine." Curly repeated, now looking toward the three others. They seemed slightly uncomfortable with the escalating situation. "It's not that bad, captain, come on." Jimmy maintained, lightly shoving Curly's plate toward him. Baffled by his persistence, Curly shook his head, letting out an uncomfortable laugh.
"I really don't want to eat right now." Curly asserted, looking right at Jimmy.
"What's the matter? Do you think you're better than us?"
The uncomfortable air quickly turned hostile. It felt like everyone was suddenly looking at Curly. Maybe they wanted him to shut Jimmy down, or maybe they simply wanted to hear what Curly had to say. Either way, nothing Curly would say right now would impress or satisfy anyone. Everything around him seemed like it was crumbling. At the center of it, stood Jimmy with his unrelenting gaze.
Unwilling to let dead dogs lie.
"I have received a message from Pony Express."
_______________________________________________________________
The moment itself, telling the crew the news, felt like an out-of-body experience. There was a lot of yelling, a lot of crying, a lot of pleading. Once in a while, there'd be a moment of silence where disbelief overtook the crew; it swept them away like leaves in the wind. Still, it wouldn't last long before someone else started screaming hysterics again.
At some point, Curly couldn't recall when exactly, Jimmy grabbed him by the collar, getting right up in his face. It should've felt intense, but it was as if they were both underwater. It all felt so muffled and cold. Curly stared at Jimmy with a desolate expression. No one intervened as Jimmy screamed his lungs out at him, shaking him around as he did. It could be that they thought Curly deserved it. He deserved to get yelled at. Because it was unfair. Because it was outrageous.
Eventually Jimmy let go and disappeared into the hallways, making a racket as he went. The rest dispersed quietly, not paying any mind to Curly, who was left alone in the lounge with all his birthday supplies. Jimmy had thrown his party hat on the floor before approaching Curly. The rest had left theirs on the table, which was scattered with dirty plates and a half-eaten cake.
Maybe it was out of habit, or maybe he didn't quite know what to do with himself in that moment, but Curly started cleaning the lounge. He took down the birthday decorations the crew had so carefully hung up for him. He wiped the table and did the dishes, stocking the left-over cake in the fridge. Hopefully someone would eat it.
When that was done, Curly headed to a nearby bathroom, heading into one of the stalls before profusely throwing up. The adrenaline of telling everyone and the stress of keeping it to himself for so long had finally caught up with him. His vision had been spotty throughout the entire process. Only after puking out his guts did his vision clear up. He remained on the bathroom floor, near the toilet. The nausea wouldn't go away.
It was only when he heard someone enter the bathroom that he quickly picked himself off the floor. The person noticed movement and stopped in their tracks.
" … Captain?"
It was Anya.
Curly hummed, his throat feeling sore from retching. It was silent for a moment before she carefully continued. "Are you … okay?" She asked, approaching the stall where he was. "Erm … " Curly said, his voice weak. He quickly opened the stall door, coming outside. "I was just leaving." He explained, approaching the sink to wash his hands. A quick glance toward the mirror revealed his red eyes and cracked lips. As he washed his hands, Anya rubbed the back of her neck.
" … It's not your fault, Curly." She sighed. "I know." He responded a bit too quickly, splashing some cold water on his face. "Do you know or do you understand?" She asked, looking at his reflection. He looked back at hers for a split second.
"I know." He repeated.
As Anya watched him splash some more water on his face, she noticed a rotten stench coming from the stall he'd just come out of. It smelled sour. She knew it well. "Would you like some honey drops?" She suddenly asked. Curly didn't immediately respond, the sound of water rushing from the faucet overtaking the room. "I have some in the med bay." She added, even though that would be obvious.
" … Anya, I really appreciate you; I do." Curly sighed, unsure of how to continue his sentence. He started off doing what he knew he should and closed the faucet. "You worry too much. I can take it." He smiled softly, turning toward her. She frowned at him, knowing there wasn't much she could say to that. Well, she knew of a few things, but it felt hypocritical to say those things when she didn't want to hear them herself. So she nodded.
"Okay." She said, softly smiling back.
"I'll see you at dinner." He said absently, giving her a pat on the shoulder before leaving the bathroom.
Chapter Text
"Would you stop that?" Swansea spat, looking up from his magazine.
Daisuke caught the ball he had thrown against the wall. He'd been doing this for a while now. Somehow he managed to smuggle a tennis ball aboard the Tuplar. To pass the time, he'd been throwing the tennis ball against the metal walls of the Tuplar, causing a loud bang every time he did. So for the past 10 minutes, the lounge was graced with a thud every 5 seconds. At first, Swansea left him alone since tensions had been high for the past couple of days. But with every loud thud, his patience grew thinner.
"You're gonna dent it." Swansea hissed, fluttering the magazine. Daisuke sheepishly laughed as he rotated the ball in his hands. Knowing he probably couldn't go back to what he was doing, he sat down on the couch beside his mentor. He lightly tossed the ball a couple of times in his hand, staring at the ceiling.
"Man, I wish we had some coffee." Daisuke whined with a sad smile on his face. "I'd like an iced maple macchiato right about now." He fantasized, patting his belly.
"An iced what?" Swansea grumbled.
"You know. Like. Coffee over ice." Daisuke explained. "And you can get it in like a gazillion flavors. Like maple syrup, vanilla, caramel, pumpkin spice, I'm sure I've seen birthday cake at some point … ?" He mused to no one in particular.
Swansea remained silent, turning a page of his magazine.
"Which one would you like to try?"
"None." Swansea said bluntly.
"Really?"
"Young man, I've been drinking coffee for longer than you've been around. I know how I like it."
"Doesn't hurt to try."
As Swansea was about to start his 'don't you dare try to pimp my life' rant, Anya walked into the lounge. She seemed slightly upset as she walked up to the pair.
"Hello." She kindly greeted, standing near but not close. Daisuke smiled and lifted his hand while Swansea nodded at her. "I hate to ask." She continued, squeezing her hand. "But have any of you spoken to Curly yet?" Anya carefully asked. She received a deep sigh from Swansea as an answer.
The day after Curly announced the news, he came to breakfast and saw that no one had set a plate for him. From then on, he didn't bother to show up for meals. He usually ate before or after everyone else. Well, that's what they assumed. No one saw him around anymore. They only knew he was still alive because Jimmy saw him in the cockpit.
"Maybe it's time we talked to him." Anya suggested to the mechanic team. "I feel like he's having a real hard time right now." She added, looking at her shoes. Swansea seemed apprehensive, Daisuke less so.
"You have a point... It's not like he fired us. You know?" Daisuke agreed, looking at Swansea for approval. The older man sighed, putting down his magazine.
"Of course, I know that." He grumbled at his trainee. "I think it's a good idea." He agreed, folding his arms as he looked up at her. She softly smiled at the two.
"So who's gonna talk to him?" Daisuke asked. No one responded, and an awkward silence fell. "Well, I'm not gonna do it." He quickly said when he realized no one was up to do it.
"Well, I'm your mentor, and I'm telling you to go talk to him." Swansea said as if he had drawn a logical conclusion.
"Wha- you can't do that!" Daisuke spat back.
"What else is a mentor for, boy?"
"To … To teach me things?"
"Yeah. And I'm teaching you a sense of responsibility. Now go talk to Captain!"
"Bruh."
"How many times have I told you this? I am not your bruh."
Daisuke let out the longest, heaviest, and loudest sigh Anya and Swansea had ever heard.
"I think Curly would really appreciate it if someone other than me talked to him." Anya pointed out. "I've been trying to, but it feels like I'm not getting through to him." She smiled, but it quickly fell into a frown.
"Fine, fine, fine." Daisuke sang pitifully, standing up from the couch. "But I want compensation!" He immediately added, pointing at the two; his eyes narrowed.
"I could give you some gum." Anya offered.
"Fuck, I'll give you a chocolate bar I have stashed away?" Swansea tried, tilting his head.
"Deal." Daisuke agreed, turning around to head to the cockpit.
_______________________________________________________________
It wasn't his fault. Jimmy was on his way to check the fridge for the fifteenth time today when he overheard the three talking. He stood in the corridor and listened as they talked about Curly. Talking about talking to him.
To a certain extent, Jimmy was able to set aside his seething hatred for the man and sit beside him as they worked. It's not like he didn't do that before. In fact, during this haul, they ’ ve been ignoring each other more than not. At least now he had a sound reason to do so. And to be honest, Jimmy found it kind of refreshing that he wasn't the problem child for once. There was finally a crack in Curly's perfect persona.
It made him human. Vulnerable to scrutiny and mistakes.
However, the more he thought about that crack, the more it infuriated him. Curly took the fall after the company stabbed everyone in the back. He essentially became the scapegoat. Or scapehorse, if you want to stay in theme. And he did so for the sake of the crew. Eventually, they would realize this, and he'd be hailed as a hero.
A captain.
Somehow even more perfect than he was before.
Was he a bad person for hating Curly over this?
He didn't want to think too hard about it.
It wouldn't change anything.
It never does.
It felt like a bucket of black goo, similar to tissue, got dumped all over Jimmy's head. It was cold and crawled over his skin, covering him from head to toe as it dripped down. It made his head feel heavy, and he couldn't breathe so well anymore.
Everything would go back to the way it was.
Everyone would love Curly. Love what he does; love what he says. But where would that leave Jimmy? In the cold, forgotten shadow of his captain? Again?
No.
He wouldn't even have the pleasure to be associated with his shadow.
After Daisuke left through the other door, Jimmy waited for a moment before heading down himself. He had no idea what he was going to do. Well, what could he do? When he approached the cockpit, he saw Curly and Daisuke standing in the hallway between the cockpit and Utility. Curly was the first to notice him and look his way.
His gaze was inviting, like he wanted him to join the conversation. Even then, Jimmy had no intention of talking to him. He walked past the two and into the cockpit.
The next few minutes were a blur.
The doors of the cockpit opened for him, and as he entered, he heard the noise of the fax machine go off. A paper glid into its receptacle bin.
He looked at it.
Urgent message for the captain of the Tuplar.
Something something course correction is needed.
He stuffed the message in his pocket.
That was that.
Chapter 12
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Everything had gone back to normal. Well, as normal as it could be.
From the outside looking in, everything looked to be fine. Anya woke up, ate breakfast, brushed her teeth, and did some light reading on a bundle of essays she'd brought along. They were all research papers in the biomedical field. More specifically about medicine.
It got her thinking about what she would do after the Tuplar. Her medical license was not the usual university kind. She tried; she really did, but the entrance exams were brutal and costly. It didn't help that they only had a limited amount of space. Half of which went to students whose parents paid the school some dubious amount of money. The only reason she was allowed to be a medic on the Tuplar was because Pony Express offered a free course.
The plan was to collect money, gain experience, study hard, and eventually get into medical school. She did all of that, and it would've worked out fine if Pony Express paid her more than minimum wage.
She didn't like dwelling on things like this. For now, she'd stuff all her worries in a glass jar, seal it off, and stash it somewhere on the shelf. This vessel couldn't afford another mentally unstable person; she knew that well. She'd just have to suck it up for now.
Just for now.
Just a little longer.
"Anya?"
She'd been staring at the same paragraph for a while now. Her vision had blurred, which made the words melt into each other. When she heard her name being called, the words unjumbled themselves. Slowly she looked up, rolling her pen in her hand.
"Oh, hi, sorry, I didn't see you there." She softly smiled up at the captain.
"Am I bothering you?" Curly asked, taking a step back.
"No, no, not at all. What can I do for you?" She asked, closing the bundle and sliding it to the side.
Curly walked over to her desk, sitting across from her. "I'll be out in a second. I just wanted to thank you and also apologize." He said gently, tilting his head.
Her expression froze between a polite smile and confusion. "For what?" She asked.
Curly shifted in his seat, an awkward smile growing on his lips.
"Well… Daisuke accidentally told me it was all your idea." He explained.
"My idea?"
"Yeah, to approach me again."
"Oh, come on. That's nothing." She denied, shaking her head.
They remained silent for a moment as Anya looked at her hands.
"Letting things fester is... the worst thing you can do, especially in an isolated environment," she slowly said, pushing back her overgrown cuticles with her nails. We need to keep communicating with each other. Usually, everything is just a big misunderstanding," she explained.
It felt kind of ironic when she heard herself say it out loud. Something about 'coaches don't play'.
"Still, it takes some courage to set things in motion. I appreciate that about you." Curly grinned, giving her a light pat on the arm. "After hearing the news, I was so shocked myself that I allowed this to fester. I shut myself out because I thought that was the best action. I should've been able to come out sooner and talk with all of you. Instead, I had to wait until one of you decided to open up." He chuckled softly. "That's why I want to thank you for your initiative and also apologize for my negligence." He said, looking up at her. "I know things will be hard from now on, but I assure you that we'll all work this out together, okay?" He proposed. She smiled very lightly, giving him a nod. She knew that if she'd open her mouth to utter a thank you, she'd burst into tears.
She had little faith that everything would go as smoothly as Curly envisioned it, but the thought was nice.
It had been a hard couple of days, and sometimes a little hope goes a long way.
_______________________________________________________________
"Have any of you seen Jimmy today?"
Anya's question seemingly echoed through the lounge as everyone continued eating dinner. Only Curly looked up from his plate to the medic and then to the other two. Daisuke shrugged slightly when he felt the captain's gaze on him.
"I don't know; I was busy practicing my welding technique all day." He informed, side-eyeing his mentor.
"Yeah. And you still suck at it." Swansea jabbed with a sharp chuckle.
Curly also hadn't seen him around today. Not that he sought him out or anything. Lately, Jimmy had been so cold and avoidant that Curly thought it was best to give him some space. They usually bump into each other, but today he didn't even see him in the cockpit. He made eye contact for a moment with her as their earlier conversation replayed in his head.
"I think you should fetch him." She eventually said, which made everyone go dead silent.
"He wouldn't want to be here." Curly half-smiled, shaking his head.
"You don't know that." She pointed out.
He let out a solemn sigh. "I thought you'd be happy not seeing him around so often." Curly accidentally thought aloud, looking back at his plate. He really shouldn't be saying this kind of stuff while the rest was around.
"Erm… Maybe? I don't know." Anya mumbled, shaking her head. "I just thought..." She left her sentence unfinished as her gaze wandered over to Curly. "Look, I'll be honest with you." She said carefully. "I don't like Jimmy." She confessed a bit sheepishly.
"Who does?" Swansea immediately reacted.
"He's really… aggressive." Daisuke agreed, looking down.
Anya looked at the two, a bittersweet smile on her face. "…However." She continued, which made Swansea raise an eyebrow at her. "I think it's best if he feels included. Wasn't it the same for you?" She asked, looking back at Curly. He didn't know what to say to that, because she was completely right.
"We should be more tolerant towards each other." She said.
"We've been nothing but tolerant of that asshole." Swansea shot back, clenching his fork.
"Still. We'll all be stuck with each other. It's best to make the most of it." She said firmly.
"Look, if he wants to avoid captain, I say let him! He's been nothing but a bother lately." He sneered.
"But how could we? We still have such a long way to go! I mean, we aren't even halfway yet." She argued.
That sentence struck a chord with Curly. Why did he suddenly feel like he'd forgotten something?
"What are we shipping?" Jimmy asked, side-eyeing the captain.
"You don't wanna know." Curly sighed.
"Oh, come on, you can tell me." Jimmy pushed, firmly grabbing Curly's shoulder.
"It's nothing exciting. If we were shipping something fun, I would've told you already." Curly smiled as he got shaken around.
Halfway.
"I want to know though." Jimmy insisted a bit softer, looking to the side. Curly looked at his friend, feeling a sense of emptiness radiating off him. "…I'll tell you when we're halfway there." He promised, sticking out his pinky. Jimmy looked at it as if it were a mockery. "We're too old for that." He scoffed softly, which made Curly look at him weirdly. "Who cares? It's just you and me here, right?" He retorted, tilting his head slightly.
They'd been on the Tuplar for four months now.
A grin crept onto Curly's lips as he slowly leaned forward, getting closer than expected. "Alright. I'll tell you in four months. Last offer." He haggled, raising his pinky once more. Jimmy looked at how Curly had leaned over his chair, leaning with his arm on Jimmy's.
…Huh.
"You can't seriously expect Captain to haggle with that rotten tomato every time he throws a temper tantrum." Swansea hissed, folding his arms.
"I just think that they should talk!" Anya emphasized.
"He's not his psychiatrist; it's not his job to-"
"I'll go find him." Curly said, interrupting the two.
Anya's frown morphed into a relieved smile while Swansea's expression soured even more.
"You can't be serious." Swansea grumbled.
"Listen, I'll just invite him for dinner. If he doesn't want to come, that's on him. But I'll let him know that we acknowledge his absence." Curly explained.
Swansea looked him up and down, an unpleased aura radiating off him.
"…Do whatever you want." He shrugged.
Curly smiled at him before standing up. "I'll be right back; sit tight." He assured, pushing his chair under the table and heading toward the hallway.
_______________________________________________________________
There were only a handful of locations Jimmy could be at. The first place Curly checked was the sleeping quarters. Relatively quickly, he noticed that Jimmy's room was empty. At first glance, the room looked messy, and he hadn't been ventilating it very well. Curly decided to leave his door open to let some air in as he looked for him in the second location.
The cockpit.
As he walked through the halls, he was thinking about what he'd say to him. "The crew misses you; come to dinner." or "I miss you; come to dinner." Both sounded a bit forced. Jimmy would probably scoff and say something pedantic like, "Oh, really? Is that how it is? Should I feel honored?" Yeah, that sounded exactly like something he'd say.
In any case, the walk to the cockpit wasn't nearly long enough for him to be pondering over it. Soon he arrived at the first door, which automatically opened for him. It was quiet, but that wasn't very unusual.
However, as he walked through the straight hallway toward the front of the vessel, he abruptly felt everything go sideways. Curly stumbled to the right and bumped against the wall. Feeling disoriented, he rubbed his shoulder, which absorbed all the impact. Maybe he was still feeling drowsy? He felt fine earlier, though.
A sudden thought flashed in his mind, which he immediately shook off.
He looked at the door ahead. Suddenly it looked like it was further away than he remembered. Picking up the pace a bit, he walked toward the entrance of the cockpit, a weird pit forming in his stomach.
He pushed aside the first door and quickly opened the next.
When Curly recounted his experience to the crew later on, he said he never fully remembered what happened. In reality, he could recall every excruciating detail down to the coordinates displayed on the command deck display.
The display exhibited in capital letters: WARNING.
An obstruction that was being pointed out explicitly.
The intercom blared a message about disobedience and sanctions.
And then there was his friend, right in the middle of it all.
Holding a key that only Curly was authorized to use.
A key that disabled autopilot.
Why? Why would he do this? What was he even doing? What for? A million questions bombarded Curly's head as his vision started to become colored dots instead of clear objects. He tried to understand; he tried to rationalize what was about to happen before it had even happened. There were a lot of things Curly didn't know at that time, but he did know one thing very well.
In his haste, Jimmy hadn't noticed Curly entering.
And as much as Curly liked having Jimmy as a friend. As much as he wanted to help him, support him, and understand him.
Right now he deserved to get his head bashed in.
With very little time in between seeing his friend and realizing what he was about to do, Curly put his arm around Jimmy's throat, strangling him from behind. Caught by surprise, he clenched the arm, key still in hand. As the sharp part of the metal cut into his arm, Curly looked up at the command deck.
He needed to steer away from the obstruction. Autopilot alone wouldn't cut it. In the best-case scenario, they'd graze it. Worst case…
Curly shoved Jimmy away, booking it for the command deck. Jimmy gasped for air, falling to his knees as he slammed against the locker. Just as Curly was about to tilt the steering wheel to the left, he felt his leg being swiped and dragged away. He first landed on his side but got rotated on his back as Jimmy pulled him to the floor. Still on his knees, Jimmy got on top of him, raising his fist. His voice contorted as he screamed:
"Always in the fucking way, aren't you?!"
He struck Curly right in the nose. Once, twice, thrice. He lost count at a certain point.
A desperate laugh escaped Jimmy's lips as Curly's shaking hands covered his nose. Blood started gushing out, seeping into his mouth.
"Wanna know something funny, Captain?" Jimmy asked him, jerking Curly's hands away to look at the damage he'd caused. It was broken, bruised, and crooked. "You think you can abandon me and the crew after this ends, but I'll let you in on something. We're going to die together." He whispered tauntingly, grabbing a hold of his face.
Just then, Curly bucked his hips, throwing Jimmy off balance as he landed over him. Taking the opportunity of having him prone, Curly punched him in the throat, knocking the wind out of him. Even more off balance now, Curly shoved him off.
Curly tried to reach the command deck again but got held back by Jimmy pulling his hair. As a knee-jerk reaction, Curly raised his elbow and rammed it into Jimmy's stomach. He hurled over, letting go of the captain, who saw another opportunity to steer away the vessel.
However, he knew Jimmy would never let him save the Tuplar.
So instead he reversed the roles and threw himself on top of Jimmy. Blood leaked from his nose onto Jimmy as he shoved him down. Jimmy put his hands on Curly's face, pushing him away, his nails digging into his skin. With a force that was beyond his comprehension, something so animalistic and brutal, Curly punched Jimmy right in the face.
And again.
And again.
And again.
Until Jimmy's hands melted off Curly's face, dropping onto the metal floor with a thud.
Curly stayed there for a moment as he shakily inhaled and exhaled. Adrenaline was rushing through his veins, a high tone ringing in his ears.
The command deck.
Curly got to his feet, stumbling over Jimmy's unconscious body as he did. He practically fell onto the deck, grabbing a hold of the wheel and yanking it to the left. The vessel tilted heavily as Curly watched the display with wide eyes.
And he kept watching as they avoided the obstruction by a couple of inches, hitting some of the rubble on the way out. The Tuplar shook, and emergency alerts went off. Minor damages were displayed on the side of the ship.
But that was all.
When Curly tried to release the wheel, he realized he couldn't unclench his hands. Even when he did manage to release them, they shook like crazy. He turned around, half-expecting Jimmy to be ready to strike him with a blunt object. But no, he laid unconscious on the floor.
It was over.
For now.
Notes:
This chapter is a bit longer than usual. I was unsure whether to do this or split it into two chapters, but I just wasn't sure where I'd split it up. I hope you guys don't mind :)
Chapter Text
"Captain?!"
The delayed pain became apparent.
Everything felt muffled.
His ears were ringing.
"What happened here?"
"Oh my God!"
Curly's hands felt rigid while his knuckles felt like they were on fire.
"Curly?!"
A pair of ice-cold hands grabbed a hold of his face, tilting his head upward. He saw a colorful blob that seemed to represent Anya. Her screaming became incomprehensible as she sobbed. Behind her stood Swansea with an expression Curly had never seen before.
"He's unresponsive."
"He looks like hell."
Anya turned to Swansea, sobbing something in his direction. In response, he turned around, looking at what Curly assumed to be Jimmy's unconscious body.
Well, hopefully unconscious.
"How much blood has he lost?"
"I—I... don't know."
"Who do we treat first?"
"I don't know!"
"Well, you've gotta know something, damn it!"
"Detain Jimmy." Curly heaved, trying to make eye contact with Anya. She jerked her head back toward him.
"What? What happ-"
That's the last thing he heard before passing out in her arms.
_______________________________________________________________
"How's your love life looking?"
The question caught Curly off guard. He slowly looked up to see Jimmy staring at him. The irregular flickering of the command deck kept him grounded as he let out an uncomfortable chuckle.
"Why are you asking?" Curly asked, going back to filling out his paperwork.
"I'm curious." Jimmy mumbled. "You always go on about skiing and dog breeds and whatever. It feels like I'm talking to a stranger."
Curly shook his head, a grin growing on his lips. Even so, he ignored the remark and kept filling out his form.
"Hey, wise-ass. Your application won't run away." Jimmy grumbled, pushing down the clipboard Curly was holding.
"I need to finish this before Captain comes back." Curly argued, swiveling his chair away from Jimmy.
"You've still got time." Jimmy insisted, reaching overhead and swiping the clipboard from his hands. "Talk to me a bit before Captain kicks me out instead." He bargained.
Curly sighed deeply, turning back to face Jimmy. He stood there with his arms folded, having put the clipboard to the side.
"So?" Jimmy asked, tilting his head.
"…So?"
"How's the love life?"
"Uneventful?" Curly chuckled, giving an apologetic look.
"Really?" Jimmy asked, unimpressed.
"Yeah."
"Shocking."
Jimmy sighed, leaning with crossed arms against the headrest of Curly's chair. His presence felt a bit ominous and looming, yet comforting at the same time. He tilted the chair back a bit, making Curly look up. They made eye contact.
"You should go out drinking with me some more." Jimmy advised. "Maybe then you'd meet someone instead of spending so much time alone."
"I don't think so." Curly grinned.
"Hey, I'm a good wingman!" Jimmy hissed, shaking the chair a bit. "I'll get you a chick in no time. In fact, let's go drinking after the haul."
They made eye contact again when he didn't respond. Jimmy's dark eyes stood in heavy contrast with his blue ones. Curly didn't want to talk about this anymore. The truth was a bit more complicated and uncomfortable.
He didn't want to ruin anything.
"Okay, we can get some drinks." Curly agreed.
"Hell yeah, man! Looking forward to it already." Jimmy snickered, grabbing a hold of Curly's shoulders. "I should get going before we get into trouble. I'll talk to you later." He said, shaking him around before letting go. The chair flew forward slightly without Jimmy's weight leaning it back.
Curly didn't turn as he heard Jimmy rush off, closing the doors behind him. When he was sure he was gone, Curly leaned forward, covering his face with his hands and sighing deeply.
Why was everything always so difficult?
_______________________________________________________________
It felt like someone was holding Curly's eyes closed. Little by little he forced them open. The first thing he saw was an orange glare that shone directly on him. His pupils traveled to the source. He recognized it as one of the LED screens. At first, he thought he was in the infirmary, but when he looked to the other side, it became apparent he was in the lounge.
"Oh, you're up."
Curly's head fell in the direction of the sound. Not even a second after he heard the voice, someone was already looming over him.
"Take it easy, man; you took quite the beating."
"…Daisuke?" Curly mumbled, squinting his eyes.
"Oh good! You don't have amnesia!" Daisuke smiled.
Curly tried pulling himself up, Daisuke supporting him so he could sit upright.
"My head…" Curly grumbled, rubbing the side of his head.
"Here." Daisuke quickly said, reaching behind to grab a glass of water.
"No, I don't—"
"Anya said you have to drink." Daisuke insisted, crouching down beside him.
Reluctantly, Curly took the glass and put it to his lips. He took maybe two sips, feeling incredibly nauseous as he tried to force it down.
"I'm glad you're awake, Captain." Daisuke admitted, putting the glass back on the lounge table. "You've been out for longer than we expected."
Curly looked at the intern, his gaze still hazy.
"Where is Jimmy?" He asked with a hoarse voice. Daisuke scratched the back of his neck.
"Anya and Swansea took him to the med bay to give him emergency care."
Almost immediately, Curly pushed himself off the couch, much to Daisuke's surprise.
"Wow, wow, wow, easy!" The intern exclaimed, hovering his hands over Curly to get him to sit down without using force. Curly let out a groan as he pushed him away.
"I need to see him."
"Captain—"
"I need to see him, Daisuke."
Daisuke winced as Curly tried to push past him, barely able to stand on his feet.
"Okay, okay, just hold onto me." Daisuke offered, putting Curly's hand on his shoulder so he could hang on. They shuffled toward the infirmary, step by step. When they arrived, Daisuke knocked on the door, giving the other two a heads-up. After a moment of silence, the door unlocking sounded through the hall. Swansea slid the door open, looking up at the two.
"Curly..." Swansea mumbled, looking at the pair. "I told you to keep him seated, Daisuke." He hissed at the intern.
"I tried." Daisuke responded with a sad smile.
As the two bickered, Curly attempted to look past the older man. He saw a pair of legs lying horizontally on a bed.
"-Anya is busy, and he should be resting anyway. We'll be done soon." Swansea commanded, shutting the door. Daisuke apologetically looked over to Curly, who seemed incredibly absent.
The two returned to the lounge, Daisuke presumably pushing him forward lightly. Daisuke told him to rest until the other two were done helping Jimmy. After that, he could explain what had happened. Curly laid back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling.
Somehow, even after everything that happened, he wasn't sure what to feel. He knew a couple of things, like how he felt betrayed. He knew that Jimmy was a danger to the crew; that he needed to be taken care of. What Curly didn't know is if he had the strength to do what was necessary. A part of him wanted to pretend it away, lie to everyone, and say it was all a misunderstanding. But the other part knew he couldn't do that.
That meant that the part of him that longed for the good times, the laughter, and the company had to die. What remained would be someone who acted for the greater good.
In the end, he cared more about the safety of the crew than Jimmy.
Or at least, that's what his role as captain entailed.
And as much as he resented it, first and foremost, Curly was a captain.
Chapter Text
"Events have transpired that I cannot overlook."
The crew stood before the captain, who seemed to be looking right through them. Although his nose, face, and hands had been bandaged up, he didn't look even a bit weaker than before. On the contrary, he looked as steady and unrelenting as an ancient Greek statue. He had explained what had happened. It wasn't very detailed, but everyone seemed to understand the implications.
Jimmy tried to kill everyone.
"I overlooked his erratic behavior. This is a situation I could have avoided, and for that, I offer you my sincere apologies."
No one knew how to react to Curly's sudden coldness. Maybe they were too shocked themselves to understand what he was saying. Anya looked down, Daisuke clenched his arm, and Swansea remained unemotive.
"Things are going to change a bit around here for the safety of the crew and the Tuplar. First and foremost, Jimmy will be demoted from his position as co-captain of the vessel. Second, Jimmy will remain under constant supervision or will be locked in his private sleeping quarters."
Everyone seemed in mutual agreement, even though no one vocalized it. Jimmy deserved to get treated like a prisoner after what he'd done. The resentment hadn't settled in yet, but they knew that much. After the short meeting, the crew headed to the sleeping quarters.
The quarters consisted of four separate rooms, one for every crew member, supposedly. Daisuke and Swansea bunked together while Jimmy, Curly, and Anya had a room to themselves. The rooms weren't bigger than your standard utility closet. The crew stood back as Curly entered Jimmy's room and tore it to shreds. Posters, mugs, laundry, and personal belongings got tossed into the hall. He ordered the rest to box up the items and store them away.
After Curly was done, all that remained was a bed with one blanket and one pillow. The hallway was still cluttered with items when he came out. Daisuke and Swansea took care of the bigger items, like the desk lamp and nightstand. In the meantime, Anya was crouched down, slowly filling a box with small knickknacks that had been tossed to the floor: things like postcards, gas station keychains, and a pocketknife.
She looked up at Curly. Somewhere between him going to the cockpit and him standing before her now, something drastically changed about Curly. Only after the meeting had concluded did Anya realize that Curly was afraid. It felt uncanny. Unnatural. His fear managed to strike fear into the others.
When they were nearly done, Curly quietly announced he'd get Jimmy. There was little reaction, except from Swansea, who wanted to tag along in case Jimmy tried something. So they headed downstairs and toward Utility. The door had been blocked with the emergency axe, jamming it from the outside. Carefully, Swansea slid the axe out of the handle to let Curly in.
"I'll be here." Swansea mumbled, holding the axe tightly. Curly nodded as the older man leaned against the wall.
He stood before the door for a moment, collecting his thoughts. It all felt so surreal. Eventually, he slid the door open, unprepared for what he was about to witness.
"…I see you're still alive." Jimmy pointed out.
He let out a chuckle after saying that, watching the captain enter the room. Jimmy seemed too casual for the situation he was in. Daisuke and Swansea had tied his half-conscious body to a chair, which in turn was chained to a pipe. Daisuke also reported that Swansea had 'accidentally' shoved the chair to the floor with Jimmy still on it. So on top of having a beaten-up face, he now also had a full-body bruise.
"You look like shit, though," Jimmy added, a grin growing. "Consolation prize, I guess."
Curly remained silent, closing the door behind him as he locked eyes with Jimmy. Somehow the expectations Curly had set as he fretted over this moment seemed unrealistic. He expected to see a broken-down or an insane figure. Someone who'd make it hard on him to do what had to be done.
Could someone explain to him why Jimmy seemed more like himself than he ever did before?
"So what's the plan? Long-term, I mean." Jimmy asked as Curly approached him. His dark eyes waited expectantly. "Public execution would be reasonable. I'm sure Pony Express wouldn't care, so there's that. You could also, alternatively, put me in one of those medieval social torture devices. I forgot the name… The one where people throw rotten tomatoes at you? Well, I guess we don't have tomatoes, so it'd have to be something else. Or! Or. Do you know what you could do? Lock me in a room with the horse. The talking one. Now that'd be a good-"
"Stop talking." Curly spat.
Jimmy shut his mouth, forming a smile. Curly frowned.
"Are you enjoying yourself?" Curly sneered, inching closer.
"A little." Jimmy admitted with a slight nod. "Might as well, you know?"
Curly's eyes flickered all over Jimmy, trying to make sense of it all. This was worse. This was so much worse than having Jimmy kick and scream at him.
"You are no longer co-captain," Curly informed, looming over him.
"Yeah, tell me something I don't know." Jimmy shrugged, looking up.
"…You're going to rot in your bedroom until further notice."
"How uncreative. I expected more from you."
Curly's eyes went wide, and, for the first time, he felt like an unpredictable rabid animal. He was torn between laughing and beating the living daylight out of him.
What was up with Jimmy's attitude? Was he having a nervous breakdown?
No.
Jimmy is a sneaky bastard. He always gets himself out of trouble no matter the cost. At first, Curly didn't know how Jimmy would protect himself, but now it became clear. He was using their former friendship as a shield. A former friendship that he admitted to being fake. So then why did Curly feel so ruptured? It was all a lie. Every good moment, every bad moment, every... No. He needed to get his act back together. He needed to get it all back together. Get it back together.
"How's it going, captain? Still feeling up to the task?" Jimmy taunted, leaning forward.
Before he knew it, Curly had grabbed a hold of Jimmy's collar and given him the hardest sucker punch he could muster. In reaction, Jimmy spat out some bloody saliva before sniffing through his nose. As Curly still held on tight to his collar, he made eye contact again.
"That's a no." Jimmy whispered.
It became obvious to Curly at that moment. Whatever part of Jimmy that he was still holding onto was gone. Maybe it was never there, to begin with.
"Mouthwash." Curly mumbled.
"… Excuse me?"
"We're shipping mouthwash," Curly repeated, releasing Jimmy with a shove and heading to the exit. Jimmy watched him walk, a mixed look appearing on his face.
Curly shoved the door open, looking up at Swansea.
"Lock him up in his quarters." Curly demanded, slamming the door shut behind him as he started leaving.
"What? Where are you going? I can't escort him alone." Swansea immediately shot back.
"I'll send Daisuke." Curly grumbled, walking away.
"Wait." Swansea insisted, holding Curly's shoulder. "You're here now, aren't you? Why can't you—
"Swansea, you will follow orders." Curly snapped, swiping Swansea's hand away. "Do as I say, am I clear?" He spat.
"Captain, you can't let him get to you—"
"Am I clear?" Curly repeated louder.
"…Yes, Captain."
Chapter Text
"You switched the coordinates. First X, then Y."
Daisuke flinched, retracting his hand from the notebook while Curly leaned in to correct. He wrote down the correct way to write coordinates with a red marker, underlining the separate numbers.
"This is standard math, Daisuke." He mumbled, mostly to himself, leaning back. His tone made it apparent that he wasn't angry or irritated, just disappointed.
"I ended up here for a reason, dude." Daisuke responded, picking up the notebook and flipping through his notes.
The Tuplar was without a co-captain, and there was no backup. In the past, the crew consisted of more members, but recently Pony Express cut costs and hired only the most essential positions: one captain, one co-captain, one medic, and one engineer.
Luckily, there was a fifth member aboard this haul. Unluckily, the fifth member was an intern who had no experience in the transportation field, let alone the captaining field. So for the past few days, Curly spent his days mentoring Daisuke to become a passable co-captain. They spent their days in the cockpit from dawn till dusk. It was going as well as you'd expect.
"Drill it in your head." Curly ordered, tapping the side of his head. Daisuke gave him a thumbs up, which Curly ignored. "You can take a break. Come back in 15 minutes." He mumbled, shooing him with his hand as he turned to the command deck.
After Daisuke exited his improvised classroom, he let out a heavy sigh. He was exhausted. The days he spent studying with Curly felt long and unending. As he walked through the halls, he passed Utility. For a short moment, he paused, looking over his shoulder at his former workplace.
Might as well hop in.
He nonchalantly strolled in, getting a glance from Swansea before he went back to doing what he usually did: a whole lot of nothing disguised as important work. This time he was reading through some kind of manual. He had his funny, thick-rimmed, crimson reading glasses on. They made his eyes look three times bigger than usual.
"Hey, colleague!" Daisuke greeted, walking up to his desk. He received a hum in return. He hovered above the desk a bit, waiting for Swansea to finish reading his page.
"…What do you want?" Swansea asked, putting down the book after a short moment.
"Nothing, nothing, just thought I'd visit the ol' workroom. Very nostalgic."
"You were here yesterday."
"…Oh, I guess I was."
"Yeah."
"…Time sure flies, doesn't it?"
"Mhm."
Swansea picked the manual back up, starting to read once again. When Curly told him he'd be ending Daisuke's internship early so he could become co-captain, Swansea said he didn't care. In fact, he explicitly told everyone he was 'enjoying the silence' and 'his headaches have significantly reduced.' As time passed, he seemingly became colder and colder, reflecting Curly's decline.
Anya was the first to notice but was unable to bring it up. She hinted at it to Daisuke, who said he didn't see it. That was until he paid attention to what Swansea was saying.
"How's the new internship?"
"I bet Curly's a bit better at keeping up with your frenzy."
"Me? No, I'm fine. The best, actually."
It sounded out of character.
Although Daisuke didn't love being Swansea's intern, he did feel like he was learning things from him; he felt like he was becoming good at something he liked doing. He hadn't felt that way… ever.
At first, he felt kind of excited to learn new things from Curly. Daisuke always thought he looked extremely cool. But when he got into the nitty-gritty of it all, he immediately realized he was out of his depth. What seemed evident to Curly felt illogical to him. It didn't help that Curly wasn't the greatest teacher. Well, maybe he would be if he was at all excited to teach him the ropes. Instead, from the very beginning, it looked like he was doing it against his will.
For all the shit he gave Swansea, at least he felt like there was something there. A strange kind of camaraderie.
"Shouldn't you spend your breaks doing something you like?" Swansea asked, pulling Daisuke out of his own head.
"Hm?" Daisuke frowned, tilting his head.
"You have that Game Boy, don't you?"
Daisuke raised his eyebrows.
"What are you looking at me for?" Swansea asked after doing a double take.
"…Well, for one, your eyes look humongous with those glasses." Daisuke grinned.
"Ha, ha, laughing at the disabled now, are we?" Swansea sneered, taking off his glasses.
"Kinda. Anyway, secondly, I've never seen you acknowledge it."
"It?"
"My Game Boy. I thought you didn't know what it was."
"Sure I do; I used to play it all the time."
At that moment, from Swansea's perspective, it looked like Daisuke's pupils had dilated significantly.
"Wait! You're a gamer?!"
"…Do not call me that."
"Yo! I didn't know you were chill like that, Swansea!" Daisuke exclaimed, leaning on the desk with both his hands.
"I'm not. I just… I picked it up at some point."
It looked like Daisuke was about to vibrate out of the room, the way he started smiling.
"I love Pokémon Red; what did you play?" Daisuke asked, looking expectantly.
"I played Tetris." Swansea said, folding his arms. "Was pretty good at it too." He added a bit quieter.
"I believe that." Daisuke smiled.
The conversation went on from there. Swansea told Daisuke about his prime time as a competitive Tetris player. Apparently, he used to be pretty high up in the ranks. He played it religiously at the arcade, maintaining his top score every Sunday evening. However, he had to stop after the birth of his second child. Said he didn't have time for hobbies anymore. One day, he saw an ad in the newspaper promoting the Game Boy. When he went to the store to take a look at it, he saw a copy of Tetris. The rest was history.
In return, Daisuke elaborated on his Pokémon journey. He'd started playing on the DS, playing Diamond religiously. Then he discovered there were more games, and from then on he became an absolute fanboy of the series. He brought the first gen with him since it was inconspicuous enough to smuggle aboard.
Their conversation was cut short.
"Daisuke."
The captain stood at the entrance of Utility, extremely annoyed. "I said 15; it's been half an hour." He sneered at the younger one.
"Oh crap, I lost track of time. Sorry, Captain." Daisuke cringed, walking away from the desk.
"Punctuality is part of the job." Curly berated, his eyes empty.
"…Right, my bad." Daisuke whispered, walking a bit faster.
"Don't be too hard on him. I kept him talking for too long." Swansea butted in. Curly shot him a piercing glare.
"Yeah, and I expected better of you too." Curly agreed, turning around. "Let's go, Daisuke."
It felt like a harsh wind had come and put everything in disarray. Daisuke and Swansea exchanged a look.
"Daisuke!" Curly called again when his trainee lingered.
"Coming!" Daisuke quickly said, jogging to catch up to the captain.
The two crew members couldn't say anything, but they understood each other nonetheless.
Something was seriously wrong with the Captain.
Chapter Text
"Nothing is wrong." Curly stated, shaking his head ever so slightly.
Anya offered a polite smile while the captain stayed straight-faced. Obviously he found none of this amusing.
"I don't know why you're doing this, and frankly I don't have time to-"
"Humour me." Anya insisted, clicking her pen. "Everyone's worried."
"Who's everyone?" Curly asked in turn, lowering his chin.
Evidently, Swansea had talked to Anya about what had happened a few days ago. Things had been rather peaceful on the Tuplar since Jimmy got detained in his bedroom. On the outside at least. However, Curly seemed to be getting worse day by day instead. Nothing too visible, but outbursts became more frequent. He got particularly angry when the crew wouldn't immediately do what he asked of them. It was all very reasonable; he was the captain after all. Following orders was kind of what the crew did for a living.
Even so, Anya thought it might be beneficial to talk to Curly about it in the form of a second psych eval.
"You moved up the eval. It wasn't until later." Curly pointed out, tapping her desk.
"Well, something happened so, yeah, we're going to talk about it." Anya shrugged with a matter-of-fact smile. "So how are we feeling?" She asked, putting her pen to paper.
"Are you serious, Anya?" Curly asked, leaning back and folding his arms. She looked up expectantly in response. "What kind of question is that?"
"An initiating one. Can you please answer the question?" She asked, clicking her pen again. They stared at each other for a moment. In that moment, Anya looked like your typical friendly mental health worker. Someone who didn't care but sure liked to act like they did.
It was at that moment Curly realised he might be projecting some frustrations.
He sighed deeply, shifting in his chair, Anya's eyes still on him.
"...I feel...different." He explained, scratching his head.
"In what way?" Anya asked, noting something down.
"I don't know. I feel like a part of me..." He took a deep breath, his eyebrows furrowing. "I feel like I should be fine." He said, letting his hand slide from the back of his neck to his shoulder.
"That's a strange thought. I don't think anyone expects that of you." Anya pointed out, looking up from her board. "So why do you feel like you should?" She inquired.
"...I feel like I'm over this already. The whole Jimmy situation, I mean. Turns out my best friend is a total psycho! Wow! You know? And you know, I'll live with that; it's fine. He tried to kill us, broke my nose on the way out, he lied to me, and now he's detained, and I... hate him. That's the end of the story, though. I just don't want to think about it anymore. Every day I sit and think about it for hours on end. I don't want to do that anymore. I just..."
It felt like he blurted out whatever came to mind. He couldn't look at Anya anymore after that.
"...Curly I can tell you confidently that nobody on the Tuplar likes Jimmy. You knew that already." Anya began writing down a few final words. "But he was your best friend until recently. Don't be too harsh on yourself. I feel like you're forcing yourself to feel things you don't."
This hit Curly like a tactical nuke. Right where it hurt.
"I know what I'm feeling, Anya." He said, looking up slightly irritated.
"No, you know what you're supposed to be feeling." Anya shot back.
"Anya, how could I have an ounce of sympathy for that... that... He could've killed us all, Anya!" Curly exclaimed in frustration.
"And you can be mad about that without harbouring immediate resentment." She acknowledged. "He meant a lot to you. You need time to process what actually happened."
"I know what fucking happened!"
The faint music from the radio kept playing in the background, as if the mood of the room hadn't changed. Curly got up from his chair, taking a few steps to the door before he turned back to her.
"I don't need time to process what happened because I was there! I saw it happen! The fucker broke my nose, Anya! He lied to me! He used me to get out of trouble, and for what? To go kill himself?"
Anya stayed silent as Curly stared at the floor. It felt like he was back in the cockpit. Jimmy's half-dead body at his feet, the alarm blaring, the silence after redirecting the Tuplar. The ringing in his ears haunted him even now.
"Curly?"
Why couldn't he take it all as well as the others did? Swansea beat the living hell out of Jimmy and felt fine after. Curly did that too. Twice even. So why did he still feel unresolved.
"Curly, you have to breathe."
Anya rationalised all of it. Jimmy was in an episode, and they were all safe now. Meanwhile, Daisuke glossed over it. Maybe he didn't fully understand the reality of the situation. Maybe none of them do. Because they weren't there. They weren't there.
"HEY!"
Never in his entire time at Pony Express had he heard Anya yell that loud. He looked up at her, glassy-eyed. "You gotta stay with me, okay?" She asked, having stood up from her seat to come to his level. "You can't keep all this to yourself. You need to talk to us."
A memory flashed in his mind's eye.
Hadn't he said the exact same thing to Jimmy before?
He felt sick to his stomach.
"...sorry. Sorry, Anya. I don't know what to do." Curly relented, grounding himself by holding onto the desk.
"That's okay." Anya assured him, putting her hand on his. "Take it day by day."
_______________________________________________________________
"So can you explain why you can't just come inside and face me like a man? Well, woman." Jimmy asked, looking at the metal door of his cramped bedroom-turned-cell.
"Would you, in my position, enter a room with an emotionally unstable individual inside?" Anya asked, standing on the other side of the door with a clipboard.
"Who are you calling emotionally unstable?" Jimmy asked, leaning against the door. "I think I'm the most stable person here." He argued with a grin.
"...I'm staying right here." Anya concluded, clenching her board.
"Suit yourself." Jimmy shrugged.
A psych eval included an evaluation of everyone aboard. And that means everyone.
"You must be really bored. You could just write 'deranged' and call it a day." Jimmy chuckled.
"No, I feel like your assessment is important. Maybe even the most important one." Anya shot back, writing his name at the top of the page.
"Oh." Jimmy smiled after a moment of silence. Anya looked up, feeling his presence explicitly through the fortified door. With a much softer tone, he said:
"You want to know why I did it, do you?"
Chapter Text
"...I think everyone wants to know why you did it." Anya responded after a brief moment of silence. She didn't get an immediate response; however, she heard him exhale a sharp chuckle.
"You didn't care to ask me why I destroyed Swansea's locker. What changed?" He asked. At first she was taken aback by the sudden change in topic. Then she frowned, hugging her clipboard.
"You're not exactly the most approachable person ever." She sneered.
"That's not what I said." He pointed out. "I asked why you're approaching me now. I'm still as, if not more, unapproachable."
Right about here is when Anya realized why Curly didn't want to talk or even be near Jimmy anymore. Imagine getting betrayed by this guy just for him to turn around and act like this.
"You put our life in danger, Jimmy. That's why." She said, narrowing her eyes.
"You know what? That's pretty reasonable. Proceed."
Truly, Jimmy had a gift to get under people's skin. And however irritating it was to talk to him, she had an open now.
"Why are you acting like this?" She asked.
"Like what?"
"Like this! Calm and lighthearted. You are in a terrible position right now."
"Would you rather I wallow? I can try crying if it makes you more comfortable."
"No, no. Just... do whatever." She sighed, clicking her pen and writing down a few things. "I'm going to ask you some questions; answer them as correctly as you can." She said.
"Can do." Jimmy agreed.
Surely it can't be this easy.
"Although I do have to say, I don't remember the events that well." He added.
"Of course." She sighed. How come?"
"Well, I can't clearly recall what happened that entire day. I do remember the big events, of course. As for why... Let's just blame it on Curly for beating the shit out of me. A few punches to the head can really do a number on one's memory." He grinned.
His explanation felt off. Like he knew more than he was telling. However, Anya didn't find this information relevant. So, to cut to the chase, she delved into some questions that she did find interesting.
"Did you intentionally steer us into a space rock?" She asked.
"Yep. Was going to turn off autopilot too."
"And after that, you tried stopping Curly from correcting the course?"
"Sure did."
"Was your intent to kill us all?"
"...hmmm," you could hear the grin growing on his lips. "I didn't quite think that far at the time."
Her writing hand stopped moving mid-word.
"And when you reflect on it now?" She asked.
"Well. I do remember telling Curly something about dying together. So to some degree, I suppose I must've at least wanted myself and him dead. But if he hadn't shown up, maybe it would've been just me."
"...you're quite open about all of this." She frowned, continuing with her report.
"Anya, I'm going to be dead serious with you, for once." Jimmy smiled. "No one has talked to me since Curly punched me. It's been me and the walls for a week straight." He explained. "Swansea throws me some food twice a day, literally throws. And that's if he feels generous. He also escorts me to the bathroom thrice a day with an axe five inches from my neck. I'm dying to have some normal human interaction."
"Maybe next time don't try to violate human rights." Anya advised monotonously.
"Eh, you win some, you lose some."
"So what did you win then?" She asked, restarting the conversation. "What did you gain?"
"Well, for starters, Curly is spiraling. That's pretty hilarious."
"You are awful." Anya grumbled, raising her nose.
"I thought therapists weren't supposed to judge."
"This is not a therapy session." She mumbled, pressing harder on her pen. "Why do you hate him so much?"
"Hate?" I never said that," Jimmy said, sounding genuinely confused.
"What?"
"I don't hate the guy." He clarified.
"...then how do you feel about him?"
"I wish he had never been born, but it is what it is. I can't really jam him back up where he came from, you know?"
"You are not making any sense." She sighed.
"Look, Anya, it's really simple." Jimmy said slowly, leaning up against the door and sliding down so he could sit. "I wish I never met the guy. I wish I never knew of his existence. But I do. That doesn't mean I hate him."
It made sense. It also sounded extremely unhealthy and irrational at the same time.
"You said you wanted to kill him just a second ago, though." Anya blurted.
"I guess I did, yeah, in a way." He mused into the skies of his metal confinement. "You could also interpret my 'we're going to die together' as a very, very ill-timed love confession." He proposed.
"…Are you serious?" Anya spat, raising an eyebrow.
"…No."
For the first time in their entire conversation, Jimmy sounded extremely like the old version Anya knew. It was almost like she had offended him with that question, yet at the same time, he sounded like he was deflecting.
"You're right. I suppose I wanted him dead." Jimmy quickly added.
"Uh-huh." Anya hummed, lowering her board slightly.
This was interesting. She managed to find a loose thread in his bizarre front. A very specific angle that seemed to be an unexpected weak spot. Now if only she could pull hard enough for it to unravel.
"So tell me about you and Curly." She asked.
"I already told you about that." Jimmy pointed out.
"No, no." A smile threatened to form on Anya's lips, but she kept herself at bay. "You told me about Curly. You didn't talk about your relationship with him."
"… Funny. You're doing the thing I did. Very funny." Jimmy said flatly.
Anya now also crouched down, sitting against the metal door.
"So tell me." She repeated, grunting as she hit the metal floor. "Did you have a grand scheme to betray Curly from the beginning, or did you just kind of fall into it?" She asked, pulling up her knees to prop up the board on her thighs.
"… This doesn't have anything to do with what I did." Jimmy eventually said after a lingering silence. "Shouldn't you be getting back to why I did it?" Jimmy asked, sounding a bit annoyed.
"I'm just trying to get my fill of workplace drama." She asked, fighting against the grin forming on her lips.
"How unprofessional of you." He grumbled.
"So what's the deal with you two?"
"There is no deal between us. We were colleagues; we talked when we got bored, and that's it."
"Are you sure there wasn't something more?"
"Yes."
"Very sure?"
Her comment was followed up by a loud metal bang that shook her entire body. She backed away by falling to her side and scrambling, her heart beating in her chest. Jimmy had slammed his fist against the door.
"Hey, Anya."
She sat upright, now facing the door.
"I'm not your playground intel. Fuck off."
Her throat was dry, her fingertips tingling from the sudden fight-or-flight response. Feeling overwhelmed, she got to her feet, grabbing her clipboard that had fallen to the other side of the floor. She stood before the door a bit longer, trying to process how quickly everything had happened. Eventually, anger got the better of her, and she kicked the door as hard as she could before storming off.
Jimmy winced at the bang, hearing her walk away as the metal vibrated.
Chapter Text
Things changed rapidly after Anya had conducted her psych evaluation. Daisuke reported that his class sessions were much shorter. Maybe an hour or two a day instead of the monstrous full-day lessons. The captain wouldn't even say anything anymore if Daisuke did something wrong. He'd silently correct and move on.
"Then he sends me away." Daisuke explained, hugging himself with a frown on his face. "I mean, at first I liked having some free time, but now I'm just wondering why he's teaching me if I can't apply what I've learned." He sighed before receiving a pat on the back from Anya.
The crew had gathered at the dinner table. Curly hadn't shown up again, and frustrations started spilling before they knew it.
"Is this really how the rest of the haul will go?" Daisuke asked, sounding a bit desperate.
"No, he'll come around. He just needs some time," Anya reassured, soothingly rubbing his back.
"Well, how much more does he need? It's been, what, three weeks?" Swansea complained, making the two look up.
The mechanic had been awfully quiet about his thoughts regarding the situation. He didn't speak about Curly's attitude or Jimmy's sudden betrayal. Sure, he liked to give Jimmy the occasional bruise initially, but aside from that, all he voiced were observations. But it seemed as if his patience for the situation had grown thin.
One reason for that could be that none of the crew members had been sleeping well at night. Not because of any mental block or insomnia, but because a certain someone had been creating a ruckus during their sleeping hours. While Curly got quieter, Jimmy certainly got louder. Every night, right as everyone started hitting the hay, they'd suddenly hear metal banging from Jimmy's room.
At first, Swansea banged on his door to keep him quiet. That only seemed to enrage Jimmy more, but it always eventually stopped. On the third night, Swansea wanted to beat him to a pulp but got stopped by Anya. "He's clearly not mentally well. You don't know what he's capable of in there." That's also the night the three moved to the lounge to sleep on air mattresses instead. It was less comfortable but far quieter. They'd been sleeping there for a week now.
"I'm sure everything will be fine." Anya said, looking at Swansea, who found no reassurance in her words.
"Whatever you say." He mumbled, taking everyone's empty plates.
As he started loading the dishwasher, Anya picked up the unused plate and cutlery left out for Curly. The rest of the evening was spent in the lounge. Daisuke had put on some music to lift the mood, but other than filling the silence, it didn't do much for them.
If there was anything Daisuke hated more than the entire situation they were in, it was loaded silences. Something about them reminded him of how things used to be at home. He'd try anything in his power to talk or distract people from what was happening. If that didn't work, he shut himself in his room to try and ignore it. In any case, he couldn't stand to be in them.
"Hey, do you know any card games?" Daisuke asked Swansea, who was on the far end of the couch. The mechanic seemingly perked up for a second before melting back into his potato sack form.
"I do," Swansea informed.
"Can you teach us some?" Daisuke asked, referring to himself and Anya.
"Would love to, kid, but we don't have a deck."
"If that's the only issue..." Daisuke mumbled, getting up from the couch and running toward the infirmary.
The two others looked at each other for a second, unsure of what he was doing.
When he came back, he was holding a stack of thick yellow flashcards Anya used for studying.
"Can we use these?" Daisuke asked, holding up the pack toward Anya.
"For what?" She asked.
"I'm going to make us a deck!" Daisuke beamed, sitting down on the floor beside the lounge table. He grabbed a pen out of his pocket and started drawing numbers and symbols on every card.
"Hey, I recognize this paper." Swansea commented as he grabbed an empty card.
"Yeah, I have a ton," Anya explained.
"No, no, I mean... I feel like I've seen it before." Swansea specified.
"…Erm…" Anya mumbled, trying to understand what that meant.
"Wait." Swansea said, narrowing his eyes. "Isn't this the same type of paper from that drawing?"
"Drawing?" Anya asked.
"Yeah, yeah, the, er... Jimpy one."
"…" Anya remained silent as her eyes glided over to Daisuke. "Oh yeah, I guess so." She slowly said.
After a short while, the trio had a deck they could use. Swansea taught the two how to play poker since Daisuke asked. However, after realizing that the intern couldn't bluff if his life depended on it, they switched it to something else. They played Spades for a while, Swansea beating the two of them initially. After a few rounds, Anya gained the upper hand and kept a winning streak going for the entire evening. Even though Daisuke didn't win, he was happy that the other two seemed to be completely distracted.
That is, they were distracted until they heard yelling coming from the sleeping quarters.
Anya's head shot up, looking toward the doorway.
"Leave him; he's going to do it either way." Swansea commented, looking at his cards.
"I agree. He's just throwing a tantrum again." Daisuke nodded, also trying to look at Swansea's cards.
"… It's just… Normally… He doesn't yell." Anya mumbled, looking at her cards. "He just… Kicks and throws things."
"I guess he felt like spicing things up. None of our concern." Swansea responded, smacking Daisuke over the head.
She knew that he was right, but she couldn't help but worry a little bit. Hearing someone scream in the distance wasn’t that comforting.
"It can't hurt to check in on him." Anya eventually said, standing up.
"You really don't have to." Swansea said, looking up at her.
"I know." She smiled, stepping over Daisuke, who was sitting on the floor.
"Do you want us to come with you?" Daisuke asked.
"Don't worry, I won't open the door. I'll just yell if something's wrong." She assured, heading toward the sleeping quarters.
When she arrived, the yelling was much more prominent. The doors did a good job of muffling the noise. It was a bit scary being so close to the source, but it was nothing she couldn't handle.
"Jimmy?" She carefully called.
The screaming stopped. The silence didn't bring any relief, though. It somehow made everything feel more tense.
"Anya."
Jimmy banged his fists against the door as if he'd crashed into it.
"You need to let me out of here."
Her breath hitched as she took a few steps back from the door.
The medic was frozen in place, too shocked to say anything. How could she? What was she supposed to tell him? She must've been incredibly silent because enough time had passed for Jimmy to think she left.
"…Anya?"
He sounded desperate.
"…I-I'm here." She said cautiously, staying exactly where she was.
"I know I'm a major asshole, okay? I know. I just…" He started before sighing deeply. "Look, I don't want to do this either! I don't want to ask this of you."
"…Jimmy, you know I can't let you out." Anya said carefully.
"I fucking know that, Anya." He yelled, banging the door once. "Maybe look in that pea brain of yours and try to help me out."
That ticked her off.
"Hey, how about you stop insulting me? You know, everyone told me to not check in on you. I came because I was worried something was wrong. I didn't come here to get belittled by someone who is stuck in their bedroom." She sneered. "Go to hell for all I care." She grumbled, walking off.
"W-Wait, Anya, don't go."
She scoffed, tearing the door open to the hallway.
"Anya!" He shouted. "I can't do this anymore; I'm losing my fucking mind." He screamed, his voice hoarse. She halted, clenching the handle. "You can't do this to me; it's inhumane." He continued, his voice going softer. "I know what I did was wrong. I know, okay? I just… I can't… I can't do this anymore."
Maybe if she stood closer to his door, she would've heard him suppress a sob. But she didn't. All she heard was that he'd gone quiet. It took almost all her willpower to leave the quarters and walk back to the lounge.
Without saying another word, the three resumed playing. Daisuke and Swansea exchanged glances, not knowing what had happened. All they knew was that the yelling had stopped.
Anya lost the next game of Spades.
Chapter 19
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"You want to say that again?"
Anya clenched her teeth, taking a deep breath as she maintained eye contact with Curly. The feeling in her legs slowly disintegrated. She would've left the cockpit if Swansea and Daisuke weren't standing behind her. That's why she asked them to back her up. It was too late to turn back or to second-guess herself anyway.
This was for the best.
"I think it would be good for Jimmy to be around people again." She repeated her sentiment with different words. Her eyes twitched between Curly and the command deck behind him.
Before this impromptu meeting with the captain, Anya had pulled Swansea and Daisuke aside to convince them to lend their support. It went as well as you'd expect.
"What I think? I think you've lost it." Swansea commented, narrowing his eyes.
"I'm with the old man on this one." Daisuke agreed, hopping on the mechanic's desk and crossing his legs.
"We can't just leave him there. We still have a couple of months to go before we arrive." Anya said, folding her hands and stepping closer to the pair. Daisuke looked down at Swansea, who sat on his chair behind the desk.
"Anya, the guy's a hazard." The mechanic said bluntly.
"Look, I'm not here to advocate for him or to diminish what he has done. I'm just saying that he's been isolated for nearly a month now, and he's clearly not handling it well." She explained. "On top of that, he's been quiet for the past few days, hasn't he?" She added, clenching her knuckles.
She received no answer from either, but a pondering expression grew on Daisuke's face.
"That's nice and all, but I think that he should suck it up and accept the consequences of his actions." Swansea shrugged.
"… I mean, hasn't he already, though?" Daisuke asked, breaking his silence. "Last time I gave him food, he was just… sitting in the corner." He said, rubbing the back of his neck with a discomforted gaze.
"So what? Should I feel sorry for the bastard?" Swansea angrily asked, looking at the intern.
"Be as mad as you want at him. I think we should treat him… We should treat him as a person." Anya argued.
"Okay, so let's assume we let him out. Who's to say he won't try pulling shit again?" Swansea asked.
"I won't let him."
"So you're going to babysit him 24/7?"
"No, I'll make sure he gets therapy from me. Also, he knows he can't mess this opportunity up; I'm sure of it." She pled.
Swansea was beyond speechless. This blind faith she was giving Jimmy was more than he deserved. Of course, it had occurred to Swansea that keeping the former co-captain locked up wasn't a permanent solution. The alternative was just a bit too... uncomfortable to think about. Then again, Anya was right. They were dealing with a person who, prior to this incident, never hurt anyone but himself.
"How are you going to convince Captain?" The mechanic relented. Not expecting this sudden switch, Anya's hands started jittering.
"Oh, erm… I didn't think… Well, I didn't think I'd come this far." She admitted, tilting her head slightly. "I think you two backing me up will help a lot." She pointed out, a small smile appearing on her face.
"We can do that." Daisuke smiled, looking over at Swansea, who seemed a bit less optimistic.
"…We can try." Swansea offered with a shrug.
This is how they ended up in front of a not-all-too-pleased captain who looked like he was about to reverse-mutiny his crew.
"Are you insane?" Curly sneered at Anya, getting up from his seat. As soon as he moved toward her, Swansea intervened.
"Trust me, captain, I wouldn't be here if there wasn't a logic to it." He said, stepping slightly in front of her. "She's right. The bastard needs some air." He argued.
"Swansea, I don't care about this man's comfort." Curly put bluntly. The tone of his voice was stern but not aggressive. Even though he wanted to scream and yell, he didn't have the energy to. Piloting the ship had taken everything out of him. "I care even less about his well-being," he said, looking at Anya.
This struck a chord with Anya. Never had she expected Curly to be this ruthless. Maybe he'd lost a part of himself, or maybe the lack of self-care was starting to take a toll on his mind. Either way, she didn't like it.
"Captain, Pony Express dictates that the crew is in your care." She argued, pushing past Swansea to get face-to-face with Curly. "You did what was right for us by detaining Jimmy. Right now he doesn't pose a threat, though! His being locked up is not helping anyone! Like it or not, the right thing to do now is let him out." She said, maintaining eye contact with Curly.
It was scary. Not a moment did she think Curly would hurt her, but for a second it sure did feel like it. He looked vacant.
"Fine. Let him out." Curly spat with an expressionless gaze. "But know that if that man takes one step out of line, I'll be the first to put a bullet through his head."
Employees who trained to become captains of a ship had to take a mandatory eye, reflex, and hand coordination exam. This included a target shooting exam. You wouldn't say it, seeing how easygoing Curly acted all the time, but the man was an incredible shot. Even so, he'd never even made note of the emergency safety arm aboard.
So even though the captain didn't threaten anyone in the room, everyone suddenly felt queasy.
_______________________________________________________________
There was rattling outside the room.
Jimmy made little note of it. Someone came to check in on him daily. Whether it was to make sure he didn't starve to death or die of other unforeseen circumstances. Not that they really cared, probably.
He often imagined that he had died alone in his bedroom. He thought about how the crew would find him.
Their first word would probably be:
"Oh."
Like, oh, wow, that was unexpected. Didn't expect him to finally kick the bucket.
He thought about the letter he'd write if he actually had some pen and paper. But since he didn't, he found it kind of aimless. What's the use of killing yourself if you can't forsake the people who made you do it?
His first paragraph would include: "Go fuck yourself. Especially you, Curly, you sobbing rat." followed up by a graphic description of something or whatever.
Whatever.
It's not like he had paper.
And even if he had paper, he didn't have a pen.
And even if he had that, he didn't have an envelope to put the letter in, so really, it wouldn't have mattered.
The door opened.
Jimmy didn't bother to look up anymore. What was the point? You make awkward eye contact with the poor sod that has to feed you or escort you to the bathroom to then listen to you pee. Honestly, it was all very awkward and draining. He'd rather just sit against the frame of his bed and pretend he was alone. Alone on the vessel, alone in the world.
"Jimmy?"
It was Anya. That in itself was quite unusual. She usually wasn't sent in to take care of him. The door widened slightly, letting in a stream of light. The air in the room was musty because it wasn't well-ventilated.
"… Jimmy, you can come out."
Instead of looking toward the door, Jimmy looked away with narrowed eyes. He couldn't quite believe what she just said. Especially considering their last interaction.
"Hey, hermit crab."
Swansea shoved the door open, shedding the hallway light through the entire room. Jimmy flinched.
"You deaf? She said you're free to go. Get out before I make you." Swansea barked, flicking the room's light on. With big eyes, Jimmy looked at Swansea and then at Anya, who awkwardly looked away.
"… You're joking." Jimmy said softly.
"I wish I was, buddy; I really wish I was." Swansea grumbled, stepping away from the door. "You should count your lucky stars someone out here still cared about you." He said before walking off, leaving Jimmy alone with Anya.
And Daisuke, who was awkwardly waiting in the hall.
The former co-captain, who was still sitting on the floor beside his bed, looked up at his so-called savior. She stiffly rubbed her neck.
"… I thought you couldn't let me out." Jimmy carefully said, trying to do away with his arrogant tone mid-way.
"I thought so too." She admitted with a shrug, still not looking at him. "You know you only have one shot at this, right?" She asked, glancing at him.
Jimmy seemingly opened his mouth to say something but decided at the last minute to stay quiet, looking away from Anya.
"Psh." He half-smiled, getting up. "I've done harder things."
Notes:
Quick note here:
I just want to thank everyone who leaves a comment at the end of the chapter. I really like reading your thoughts, analyses and kind messages. It warms my heart and encourages me to keep writing this fic, so again, thank you very much :)
Chapter Text
Now that Jimmy was part of the crew again, everyone expected things to change radically—at least, they hoped it would. The monotony was starting to get to everyone. Before the incident, their repetitive existence on the Tuplar was bearable. Now, it felt like everyone was walking on eggshells all the time. A shift in this unbearable dynamic would be much welcomed.
The first day was rather uneventful. Jimmy got accustomed to not being locked up, and their first meal together was also extremely uncomfortable. Anya accidentally set out three plates and, out of habit, an additional plate for Curly. When Jimmy arrived at the dinner table, he saw the extra plate but also noticed it laid on Curly's informally assigned spot. It took about five seconds for Anya to notice and shift the tableware to his spot instead. Jimmy didn't comment on it but also didn't join the crew for dinner that night.
He spent most of his time in the lounge. Nobody wanted him to roam the vessel freely anyway. Every time he moved, someone would notice and stare. Either it was Daisuke, who was doing self-study at the dining table; Anya, from the kitchen, as she put the clean dishes away; or Swansea, who was glancing over his magazine. Someone was always watching.
This sudden freedom felt less and less like actual freedom and more like confinement 2.0.
Ah, whatever.
Being watched by these losers was better than being stuck in a room with the person you hate most in the world.
"What are you reading?" Jimmy asked, pulling a chair to sit next to Daisuke, who almost jumped a hole through the roof.
"Um." The intern mumbled, covering his notes with his hand.
Jimmy sat down, giving Daisuke an expectant look. After a moment, it became obvious he wasn't going to tell him anything, so he simply looked at what was on the table. Jimmy recognized the sprawled book immediately. He had to study it cover to cover when Curly was coaching him for the co-captain exam.
What a shit show that was.
"I hate to say it, but it might be too late to take the Pony Express exam." Jimmy pointed out, snatching the book to take a closer look.
"I'm not taking the exam." Daisuke said carefully.
"Yeah? Then why are you reading this godawful word vomit someone wrote down?" Jimmy chuckled, turning a few pages.
"I... am..." Daisuke slowly said as he looked around to see if anyone could get him out of this situation. "… Helping Captain out with… stuff." He said carefully with a nervous smile.
"So you're co-pilot now?" Jimmy asked bluntly.
"…Some would put it that way, yes."
"That's hilarious. This book will be of no use to you, co-pi." Jimmy said, pointing at the instruction manual. "It didn't help me at all. Only helped me to pass the applicant's exam, and then I forgot all about it. True story, I have no idea what half of the buttons on the command deck do."
"You don't?!"
"Hey, hey! Easy. We never crashed." Jimmy waved him off. "…Intentionally." He added after a moment. "Well, actually, we never crashed, full stop." He corrected himself, folding his arms and leaning back.
"…Right. You're so right." Daisuke anxiously agreed. He half-expected to be chewed out by now, but Jimmy was oddly calm about being replaced. That was a major surprise. Maybe everything was going to be fine after all.
_______________________________________________________________
"He replaced me with Daisuke." Jimmy slowly said, getting more and more nauseous the longer he thought about it.
"I'm assuming you heard the news then." Anya sighed.
This was their first official, mandatory therapy session together. It felt weird being able to see Jimmy as he ranted. Usually, there was a metal door between the two of them. This was the fifth time he told her about how he got replaced by Daisuke.
Anya was surprised when Daisuke walked up to her and said he had a good feeling about Jimmy and that he wasn't going to cause much trouble. In a sense, he was right. Jimmy contained himself when he heard something that devastated him and was now actively talking about it.
Maybe a bit too much.
"I can't believe he replaced me with Daisuke," Jimmy mumbled, his head falling into his hands.
Sixth.
"Jimmy, you have to put yourself in our shoes. Who else would assist Curly? Both Swansea and I need to be available in case of emergencies. You are not fit to steer a vessel. That only leaves our intern." She explained, clicking her pen a couple of times as she rotated in her chair from left to right.
"Anya, I trained a full year to sit in that chair. And that's not including all the years I worked my ass off at Pony Express." He complained, rubbing his face.
She rolled her eyes ever so slightly when he wasn't looking.
"I saw that." Jimmy grumbled through his hands.
"Saw what?" Anya asked, writing down some gibberish on her form. "How are you feeling right now?" She asked, changing the subject.
Jimmy let out an exasperated sigh.
"I don't know? Sad?"
"Can you be more specific?"
"I feel like I could slam my head against that wall right there until I pass out."
"Too specific." She mumbled, writing a few things down. "Also, that's not what sad people do when they're sad." She pointed out. "That's what frustrated people do when they're... well, frustrated."
"Nah, frustration implies I care about what Curly does." Jimmy immediately said. "I actually don't care what he does." He smiled with a shrug.
Anya looked up at Jimmy for a second before writing down:
Heavily in denial.
"Jimmy, you need to work on labeling your feelings as accurately as you can, even if you don't like it." Anya sighed, scratching her head. "You also need to think about what Curly means to you." She added, putting her pen down.
"Didn't I give you a detailed explanation?" Jimmy asked, tilting his head.
"No, you described to me a vague, one-sided concept of a relationship." She said, shaking her head. "You have all these conflicting ideas. I need you to pin them down to something concrete." She explained, putting her records in a folder. "Talk to me about it next session." She said, closing the folder with her notes.
"Are you seriously giving me homework?" Jimmy asked with a raised eyebrow after watching her stow away the folder.
"Yeah. Our time is up."
"…Time? Anya, I know you don't have anything to do."
"Sure do. See you at dinner." She said, motioning toward the door with her extended arm.
"Unbelievable." He grumbled, getting up from his seat.
"Off you go."
Jimmy got out of the infirmary and headed back to the lounge where Swansea was napping on the couch. He was hunched over, arms folded, snoring up a storm. On the other side of the couch sat Daisuke, who was playing on some sort of mini brick. They noticed each other, and right as Jimmy was about to walk toward the kitchen to awkwardly stand there instead, Daisuke waved him over.
Hesitantly, Jimmy approached the intern, who started talking to him as if nothing had ever happened. He spoke in a hushed tone to not wake the older man, but by god, did he ramble away. Daisuke briefly talked about pulling an 'incredibly epic prank' on Swansea involving a permanent marker and four party hats. All the while he kept playing his video game.
"I wouldn't do it." Jimmy advised.
"Yeah, you're right. He'd get mad and yell at me." Daisuke mumbled.
"No, he'd assume it was me and put my head on a spike."
Chapter Text
"Isn't it crazy that he decided to replace me with Daisuke?"
"You need a hobby." Anya snapped, slamming her pen down on the desk. Jimmy lifted his gaze toward her, staying perfectly still otherwise. Getting this unemotive response from him made Anya recollect herself a bit.
"Hobbies?" Jimmy asked calmly.
"Hobbies, interests, something." She pleaded, which got a confused expression out of him. "Jimmy, don't get me wrong. It's great you're telling me what you're feeling... all the time... but you keep going in circles." She said slightly calmer, picking up the pen again.
"Going in circles?" Jimmy repeated, folding his arms.
"You … It's clearly bothering you that Curly replaced you."
"Not at all. Haven't you been listening? I explicitly said I don't care." He frowned.
" … Okay." Anya huffed, writing down a few things on a Post-it note.
She ripped it off the stack and held it out. "Take it." She said, shaking her hand a bit. Jimmy looked at the paper as if it were infected with a disease. Eventually, he took the note and read its content.
"What's this?" He asked immediately.
"A list of popular hobbies."
" … And why did you give me this?"
"Jimmy, don't come back here until you've tried out all of these." Anya said, folding her hands on the bureau. "You can't keep coming here when you're bored. I want to help you to the best of my ability, but you need to be able to be on your own during the day." She sighed, looking at her hands.
"Just say you don't like having me around." Jimmy grumbled, crumpling the note. "Spare me your savior complex."
"Jimmy." Anya sternly said. "You need to take accountability for why you're in this situation in the first place. Don't shove the blame onto me." She stated. "Can you leave now?"
Jimmy left the infirmary calmer than Anya expected. Sure, he slammed the door shut a tad louder than he had to, but that was it. At the end of the day, he didn't punch anything on his way out. She shouldn't feel grateful for that, but after everything that happened, avoiding conflict somehow felt like a reward.
She rolled the ends of her hair between her fingers, sighing deeply.
_______________________________________________________________
He couldn't believe this. What kind of unlicensed therapist was Anya anyway? Giving him homework, making him write in his reflection, handing him adult coloring pages, and now this?
He told her that he didn't have any hobbies one time, and look where that got him.
Excommunicated from the infirmary.
He spent every second of his day in the lounge, staring at the same three posters and getting infuriated by that stupid mascot. He even spent his nights there, as there was not a hair on his head that thought about going anywhere near the sleeping quarters. And even if he wanted to roam other locations, he really couldn't. Naturally, he was banned from entering the cockpit and utility. The remaining halls he could wander felt like immense metal cages.
The infirmary wasn't like that. There was always a senseless but calming pop song playing in the background, and usually Anya was there to talk him through what he was feeling. It felt kind of trivial to say out loud, but he felt safe there.
And now he was banned from entering it until he followed a stupid to-do list.
He paced the lounge twenty times, replaying what happened over and over again in his head. Around the eighteenth time, he realized that maybe Anya was onto something when she said "going in circles". He paced two more times to let that revelation sink in, and then he sat down on the couch.
He hated it when other people were right about something he had adamantly denied.
Nevertheless, he also knew that if he wanted to make even an ounce of progress, he had to do the stupid things his unlicensed therapist told him to do. Again, he'd never say this, but he did want to get better. He hated who he was, who he had become. Not once did he question why he was the way he was until he was detained in his bedroom. Maybe because, for the first time ever, he had to face the consequences of his actions so directly. So tangibly.
He'd had enough.
So in the spirit of trying to be better, Jimmy took the crumpled-up Post-it from his back pocket, straightened it out, and read the list.
- Read a book
There were books aboard the Tuplar. Magazines, pamphlets, manuals, but no books. Not unless you had brought them yourself. Swansea had a whole pile of them in Utility. Maybe if he asked really nicely, he could borrow one of his boring-ass sports magazines?
Yeesh. No thanks.
- Watch a series
Now, admittedly, they had a DVD set of some stupid sitcom with a portable player aboard. The only problem was that it was stored in a locker in the cockpit.
So, watching a show was a dead end.
- Origami
Pony Express had graciously added an origami how-to book to their standard packet. Too bad Jimmy had decided to rip it to shreds and use the pages as paper balls in their first week.
No origami then.
- Exercise
This was something Jimmy could get behind. He exercised all the time when he was at home. Mostly lifting, you know, pull and push, leg day if he felt like it. There wasn't any equipment aboard the Tuplar, though. He'd asked about it multiple times, but all Pony Express ever provided was one shake weight. The stupid TV commercial one.
But right now, even if he had equipment, he didn't feel like training in the lounge where anyone could walk in on him. His bedroom was a no-go for now too. Also, he was quite sure no one wanted a psycho maniac to start strength training, so … No exercise.
Jimmy slowly lowered the note, letting out a sigh. This was going nowhere.
A hobby… Something he wanted to do, not because he had to, but because he liked doing it. There was not one thing he could think of. Something so simple…
He crumpled up the Post-it again, biting the tip of his thumb.
There was one thing he liked doing. Something he didn't really have to do, but he did it anyway. Because he liked doing it because it made him feel a bit better.
He liked talking to Curly.
It was stupid. It was silly of him to consider that something even remotely close to a hobby, but it was the only thing he could think of. As much as he envied him, Jimmy liked talking to Curly. He listened, he cared, and he laughed at his awful jokes. When it was just the two of them in the cockpit during a night shift… Those were good memories.
He wanted to give up. If he couldn't solve something as simple as finding a hobby, then how was he supposed to face what he'd done?
What was the point of it all anymore?
Chapter Text
"Hey, erm, Swansea?" Daisuke mumbled as he shuffled into Utility.
"Ah, good, you're here. The vents need a check-up, and I am too old to climb in." Swansea mumbled, looking at the diagram of the vent routes.
"I just, er... I had a weird morning." Daisuke uttered, sounding quite unsure of his own words.
"It's called puberty. Nothing to be ashamed of." Swansea shrugged, marking the spot where the vent seemed to be blocked.
"What? ... No! No. God, no. How old do you think I am?" Daisuke shrieked, being shaken away from the daze he seemed to be in.
The mechanic paid little attention to his underling's rant and shoved the diagram under his nose instead . "I know you're technically a co-pilot now, but that doesn't mean you can't climb in and hammer some things until they work again," he said, holding out a toolkit. Daisuke looked at the red metal box and then at his former mentor.
"… Can I get something off my chest?"
Swansea shifted his weight, folding his arms.
"What's with the sudden hullabaloo ? You know you can talk to me." Swansea lectured with narrowed eyes.
Daisuke awkwardly smiled, his arms wrapped around the toolkit. "I know, it's just… I don't know how to start explaining." He admitted with a shrug.
"Well, maybe put down the kit, sit down, and start jabbering like you always do." Swansea suggested. The tone in his voice was harsh, and if you didn't know him, it sounded almost condescending. However, by now Daisuke knew when Swansea was angry and when he wasn't.
And right now, he wasn't angry.
The co-pilot in training put down the toolkit on a table and sat down on Swansea's desk.
"What's it about?" Swansea asked, staying on his feet behind the desk.
"… Well, this morning, I was done with my usual practice. But then Captain suddenly decided he wanted to get some water from the kitchen." Daisuke explained. "I was super confused because he, like, never comes out of the cockpit?" He continued, rubbing the back of his neck. "So we headed toward the lounge together, and when we arrived, the entire place had been put upside down." He sighed.
"What?" Swansea asked, a frown appearing on his expression. "Don't tell me that asshole threw a fit."
"… I mean… Yeah, it was Jimmy who'd done it, but he didn't destroy anything." Daisuke tried to explain.
"Then what did he do?"
"… Well…"
_______________________________________________________________
"What in the…" Daisuke mumbled, looking around the lounge. The best way he could describe what he was seeing was to compare it to a Lego construction that someone had torn apart just to organize all the pieces by shape and color. The lounge was in an unusual state where everything was neatly stacked and stowed away. In the middle of it all was Jimmy. His hair was pushed back and clipped with what seemed to be one of Anya's hairpins. He had also abandoned his blue overcoat somewhere, wearing his white shirt with rolled-up sleeves instead.
He was mopping the floor.
Daisuke had at one point or another considered that Jimmy might've lost his marbles when he was detained for a month, but he never really thought about it that often. Especially considering how nice he'd been lately. However, right now, he really believed that Jimmy might've officially gone crazy.
For a moment he totally forgot that Captain was standing beside him, watching as Jimmy covered the floor in soapy water. They must've been standing there for a while since Jimmy eventually noticed them standing in the hallway entrance.
"Don't come in. The floor needs to dry." He unceremoniously announced, turning his back toward the two. It was true. There was a typical neon yellow wet floor signboard right by the entrance. Funny, he'd never seen it before.
It was less funny when Daisuke considered this might be the first time Curly had seen Jimmy since the accident. He couldn't read the captain's expression all that well. All that he knew was that he seemed pissed off.
Without missing a beat, Curly kicked the sign to the side, heading toward the kitchen. Jimmy looked up, his gaze following Curly. "Real classy." He commented, leaning with both hands on the mop. Curly remained silent as he rummaged through the kitchen cabinets for a pack of water. They were quite far apart, Jimmy standing near the Pony Express mascot, Polle.
"You know, I spent twenty minutes wiping the floor just for you to leave tracks all over it the one time you come out of your stinking rat hole." Jimmy grinned.
He got no response, except for Curly slamming the cabinet door closed with an extreme amount of force.
"You forget yourself." Curly sneered, making Jimmy shrug, his expression steady. The captain walked toward him. "You know you're only out and about because even in isolation you're an inconvenience." They came toe to toe, Jimmy physically lower, still leaning on the end of the mop, while Curly towered over him.
"Nicely put there, Curly."
"Don't call me that."
"Very poetic."
The captain let out a low exhale, his eyes laser-focused on Jimmy, who could only playfully stare back.
"Let me be clear." Curly began. "I know you. As much as you like to think I don't, I do. So know that when you mess up, I'll be there." He threatened, his head lowering slightly toward Jimmy.
"Can't wait." Jimmy forcibly smiled. "Now get out of the lounge before you slip, fall, and break open your head. Because as much as it'd be hilarious, we both know Anya's medical expertise ends at brain surgery. And you really don't want to saddle her with that, do you, Curly?"
They glared at each other for a moment longer before Curly made his way back to the exit. He paid zero attention to Daisuke, who had waited for them to finish their little… interaction. Instead, he pushed past him and headed back to the cockpit. He didn't even have any water with him.
_______________________________________________________________
"You should be grateful they didn't start throwing punches." Swansea huffed.
"With the verbal grenades they've got, I feel like they don't even need to." Daisuke sighed, rubbing his temples. "They're both so… aggressive." He mumbled. "You know, right after that, Jimmy started talking to me about the wonders of bleach as if nothing had happened. It's just weird."
"Well, they're not the most normal people." Swansea shrugged. "Mostly Jimmy, though. He's just a nutcase." He grumbled.
Daisuke softly smiled at the older man, letting out a sigh. "Yeah, no, it was all just weird. I hope I never have to witness that again." He mumbled, covering his face with his hands. "So what were you saying about the vent?" He asked, spreading his fingers to look at the mechanic.
"Right. There seems to be a little problem in one of the vents. Nothing major, but if we don't fix it, it could become a huge issue." Swansea explained, grabbing the diagram from the toolbox. "All you gotta do is climb in through the vents, check if the ventilators are rotating properly at this location, give them a little crank, and get back." He instructed. "Simple. Just mind the cables, don't break anything, and you're golden."
"I think I can do that." Daisuke said as he got up from the chair.
"Also, and I cannot overstate this enough, do not touch anything you're not supposed to. Follow the diagram." Swansea repeated as Daisuke walked to the ladder to get up into the vents.
"Got it," Daisuke said, grabbing the toolbox.
"You know exactly how to do this; I've shown you before."
"I know."
"I'll be right here, so if you start panicking, just come back down."
"Yep."
"Okay."
Daisuke took a few steps up the ladder, putting the toolkit in the vent.
"Mind your head—"
"Swansea, I got this." Daisuke chuckled, poking his head out from under the metal tube.
Chapter Text
"You know what it is," Jimmy grunted as his head disappeared into the cabinet below the sink. "I think he's incredibly jealous of how well I'm doing." He said as he vigorously rubbed down the back of the storage space with bleach. "Can you believe that?" He asked, tilting his head slightly to look up at Anya, who was holding a stack of plates.
" … When I said that you couldn't enter the infirmary anymore, I also meant you couldn't use me as a therapist anymore temporarily." Anya bluntly said, looking down at Jimmy, who was crouched down on the kitchen floor.
"This isn't therapy." Jimmy denied, going back to scrubbing.
"Then what is it?"
" … A gossip session among colleagues."
"Uh-huh … Hey, is that my hairpin?"
"No."
"It totally is."
"Anya, you have a monopoly on those things. Maybe you should, I don't know, learn how to share."
"I have a monopoly on those things because I brought them aboard! How about you bring your own for once?"
"I don't know where you get your fancy-schmancy hair things."
"In literally any drugstore."
"Literally where?"
Anya frowned, shoving the stack of plates on the overly full countertops where Jimmy had organized all the contents of the kitchen cabinets. Some things shifted and nearly fell off. There really wasn't any place for the plates to comfortably rest on the counter. Maybe that's why Jimmy shoved them in her hands when she came to check in on him. He told her this was his new hobby: cleaning the lounge. Seeing how restless he was, she couldn't fault him for his choice. Physical activity like this was probably the best course of action. It certainly seemed to relieve some stress.
"Where is Curly now?" Anya asked, pushing some of the cutlery back on the table. As she did, she noticed someone approaching out of the corner of her eye.
"Where do you think?" Jimmy sighed, slowly crawling back to his feet. "Wouldn't be surprised if we never see him again." He huffed, turning to Anya, who was standing beside Curly. She had pressed her lips together, her eyes wide but her gaze on the floor. Jimmy looked the newly arrived captain up and down. "I take that back. He's right here, Anya." He said, wringing out the wet rag in his bucket.
Curly looked at her, only for her to slightly turn away. He was incredibly rude toward her when she vouched for Jimmy. He took the hint and looked away too.
"Why are you here, Captain?" She asked, folding her arms. "We haven't seen you around in a while." She added in a mumble.
"Not true; he was here earlier." Jimmy corrected, putting his rag over the rim of the bucket and grabbing his broom. "The real question is, why is he back so soon?" He asked, turning to face the two.
Even though Anya never appreciated Jimmy's know-it-all attitude, he did have a point. She glanced over at the captain, who looked unamused.
"Are you two done berating me?" He asked calmly, his gaze traveling from Anya to Jimmy. "I shouldn't have to explain myself since this is a communal space, but since you're so keen on theorizing, I'll just go ahead and say I'm here because I ran out of water and I forgot to bring some with me when I passed by earlier." His tone was low-energy. He sounded exhausted.
Anya clenched her left arm, slightly ashamed of her sudden aggression toward the captain. As much as she was irritated by him, she almost forgot who Curly was before all of this went down. Kindhearted and caring. Now he looked much colder, but that didn't mean he didn't care.
"Wow. And this is the guy we put in front of the steering wheel, huh? Crazy, am I right?" Jimmy snickered, looking at Anya, who looked extremely taken aback. "Water, huh? I'll get you some." He grinned, looking at Curly before turning to the packet dispenser and tossing his broom aside.
"Jimmy, watch your tone." Anya hissed under her breath, her fist in front of her mouth as Jimmy input the code.
"What? He can take it. Look at him; he can take it." Jimmy exclaimed, pointing at him with the water packet.
Curly stared at Jimmy with a half-open mouth. His left eye almost twitched.
"That doesn't matter." She sneered, leaning toward him.
"Big man beat the shit out of me once. He'll do it again if he needs to." Jimmy smiled, tilting his head toward her.
"I am not patching you up again if you provoke him."
"But Anya, who's going to keep you company then?"
"Literally anyone else."
"Am I that replaceable to you too? Man, my self-worth is dwindling a lot these days."
"I'd replace you with a rock in a heartbeat."
"You two are awfully close." Curly commented.
Almost in unison, the two turned their heads toward him. Jimmy snorted while Anya's eyes grew wide. As Jimmy turned away to start cackling, holding himself up by the countertop, Anya hugged herself.
"Close? Yeah. I guess." She grumbled, mild irritation lacing her every word. She then looked behind her to see that Jimmy had lost it. "Stop laughing!" She exclaimed.
"I'm sorry." Jimmy chuckled, turning around as he leaned against the counter. "That's just so rich." He said, covering his mouth as he looked up at Curly. There was something resembling disappointment in Jimmy's eyes, even though he continued to laugh. Eventually, Jimmy broke the eye contact, his gaze landing on the floor. "So ironic." He mumbled quietly, grabbing a hold of the broom again.
"Now get out of my way. I need to clean." Jimmy said, his tone suddenly a lot harsher than before.
"You already did the kitchen." Anya pointed out, a frown on her face.
"I don't care. Get out." Jimmy repeated a bit louder, stepping closer to Anya, who backed away while Curly stepped forward.
The sudden scream ringing through the lounge stopped the three in their tracks. Their attention twisted to the entrance near the kitchen where Swansea stood, holding Daisuke in his arms. Before she understood what was happening, Anya felt her body move on its own, booking it toward the two. It wasn't obvious from afar, but when she got closer, she saw it. Daisuke's shirt was slightly lifted.
A burn mark right on his abdomen.
"How did this—"
"He got electrocuted." Swansea interjected between gasps of breath.
"What?"
"I forgot. I never should've—I should've been—"
"Swansea, help me get him to medical." Anya stated firmly.
All of a sudden he wouldn't budge, his feet stuck to the ground. In a moment of absolute panic, Anya jerked her head toward the two others, screaming the first one that came to mind.
It took Curly a moment to register what had just happened as the broom came falling to the floor and Jimmy ran past him toward the others. He watched him, time seemingly freezing. Here he stood, captain of the Tuplar, watching as his crew handled a crisis by themselves.
He looked on as Jimmy took over Daisuke from Swansea's clutched arms and sprinted to the infirmary with Anya.
He looked on as Swansea struggled to follow the two, heaving from having carried the boy up to the lounge.
He looked on as everyone left and he remained.
At that very moment, he realized something undeniable. Something that got in the way of doing his job and being a good captain.
He was extremely and indubitably exhausted.
Chapter Text
"I feel like death, ugh, I feel like death." Jimmy grunted into the toilet bowl, cold sweat running down his spine, over his forehead. He hurled over again. Another mouthful of unknown, sour junk spilled from his mouth. As he coughed harshly, his throat sore, he felt his hair being gathered up in a ponytail.
"Easy." Curly softly said, giving him a pat on the back after making sure Jimmy's fringe was out of the way.
"Oh God, this is so bad. I've never felt this bad." Jimmy burped, resting his head on his arm as he clenched the toilet seat.
This was the worst. He felt like bawling his eyes out, crying like a little baby until the pain subsided. This was beyond any food poisoning he'd experienced. He thought he could handle it, the alcohol that is. It was one beer after the other until all his senses became muted. And then he drank some more, holding onto his friend's shoulder as he did. Now he was on the floor of a random bar's toilet stall. The smell alone made him want to puke again. He'd gone in alone without telling anyone, so he was surprised Curly managed to find him.
"Take a deep breath." Curly reminded him, rubbing circles on his back.
At this rate, a deep breath felt like he was gasping for air instead.
"I'm sorry you're going through this." He comforted as Jimmy stared at the wall of the stall. Curly's hands were cold; he felt them against his scalp.
This was unbearable.
_______________________________________________________________
Bundles of green light muddled together as Curly opened his eyes. His neck was stiff, and his back felt like hell. It took him a moment to realize he was on the floor, and more specifically on the floor of the cockpit. He didn't notice at first since there was a pillow under his head.
"So do you ever sleep, or do you just rest in between blinking?"
Curly jerked up, snapping out of his half-asleep state. Almost immediately he felt lightheaded, his body involuntarily dragging him back down. From the floor, he managed to lift his gaze toward the command deck where Jimmy was sitting in the captain's chair, looking right at him. Curly made another attempt to get up, but his head reared in all directions.
"I wouldn't try standing up if I were you, Cap." Jimmy advised, rotating toward him. "I'm not going to hold up your legs a second time; let that be known."
"What happened?" Curly heaved, trying to sit up straight against the metal locker behind him.
"… Well, a lot. But to you specifically? You fainted."
Curly didn't remember that. He didn't even remember most of what happened today. The last thing he could remember was entering the kitchen for the second time. After that, it was all muddled. All he knew was that he didn't like Jimmy being in the cockpit. Not one bit.
"Get out." Curly grunted, holding his head.
"And leave you here? Anya would kick my ass." Jimmy grumbled, turning back toward the command deck.
"Don't touch that."
"I'm not. How stupid do you think I am? I haven't touched anything except the engine."
"The engine?"
"I anchored us after you fainted. Don't believe me? Want to check the log instead?"
Curly glared at Jimmy, who glared right back.
"You're a real piece of work, you know that, Curly?" Jimmy sneered. "First you leave the vessel going on autopilot without being in the cockpit, then you faint during an emergency, and now you're accusing me of doing God-knows-what after I carried you all the way here from the lounge."
"Go fuck yourself, Jimmy. You deserve every allegation under the sun." Curly grumbled, his head spinning.
"Heavy piece of shit." Jimmy scoffed, turning his head away as he folded his arms.
They remained silent for a bit, Jimmy throwing a pity party in his own head as Curly tried to snap out of his lightheadedness. He pulled his knees up to his chin to rest his forehead on them.
"…What happened to Daisuke?" Curly eventually asked after scrambling his brain for a single scrap of information.
"You sure you wanna ask me that? Rumor has it I'm the most unreliable motherfucker on the Tuplar-"
"Just tell me what you know or shut up."
Jimmy let his head tilt slightly, looking thoroughly unimpressed before he explained.
"Daisuke got electrocuted while exiting the vent. Swansea hadn't seen it coming because… Well, he hadn't checked the vents since the… Incident. Apparently when we grazed the asteroid, some wires came loose and… Yeah." Jimmy sighed, scratching the back of his neck. Curly watched as Jimmy's hand glided from his neck down to his lap, where he clenched both hands together. "Swansea was able to get him out without getting electrocuted himself. Anya's trying to stabilize Daisuke right now. Her biggest worry is if the electricity passed through his organs or not."
The only thing that passed through Jimmy's mind at that moment was that this was his fault. Obviously this was his fault. If he hadn't had a mental breakdown, Daisuke wouldn't have gotten hurt later on.
The guilt of knowing what could've happened to the crew if Curly hadn't interjected was something that crossed his mind more often these days. Especially after interacting with everyone again. In the moment, it didn't even cross his mind. The crew. Their lives. He'd like to think that if he had thought about it, he would have never steered them into that asteroid. He'd like to think that. What scared him was that he didn't know.
And now he had to live with himself.
Preferably he would, if he could, end his life.
However, knowing that someone would have to find him, knowing that the crew would have to live with his rotting corpse for the next few months… It kept him from doing it. He was a burden; that's why he wanted to end it all. But if he ended it all, he'd remain a burden.
So he cleaned instead.
To not be a burden.
And now this happens.
Curly sat with the information Jimmy had given him. Obviously he was thinking the same thing: It's all Jimmy's fault. Daisuke was in a life-threatening situation again, and it was all the fault of that stupid, manipulative asshole. Again. He wanted to get up and choke that good-for-nothing piece of shit until he turned a pale lavender and shut his ever-blabbering mouth.
But what was the point?
If things went wrong with Daisuke, having a second corpse was more than what the crew could handle. And even beyond that… The rage Curly felt in his stomach wasn't for Jimmy. He was ready to admit that by now. He was angry at himself. He trusted someone he shouldn't have, and it made him feel empty.
So what was the point of taking it out on Jimmy?
"When did I faint?" Curly asked, his voice hoarse.
Jimmy uncomfortably shifted in his chair, his expression twisting in all kinds of ways.
"When I ran to the infirmary with Daisuke, I saw you fall to your knees." It almost sounded like an admission. "I put Daisuke in the infirmary and ran back… Swansea was panicking… You were on the floor… Anya was with Daisuke..." He recounted, sighing deeply. "I didn't have much time to think. I just lifted your legs and yelled at Swansea to get to the infirmary. You woke up briefly, mumbling something about the autopilot, and passed out again. So I figured: Oh… We're still moving on autopilot." His voice grew softer. "I figured I should anchor the vessel, but I couldn't leave you alone in the lounge, so I…" He didn't finish his sentence. Didn't look toward Curly either.
He didn't want to hear it.
Any of it.
Luckily, Curly couldn't find the words to express himself correctly, so they both remained silent.
Chapter Text
"Jimmy."
A hand slowly landed on Jimmy's shoulder, shaking him ever so slightly. He opened his eyes with little resistance, taking in the blinking lights and general musky smell. His head tilted to the person who woke him up. It was Anya.
"Why are you here?" She asked, a frown on her tired-looking face. "You should've gone back to the lounge with him."
Anya looked over her shoulder, referring to the peacefully sleeping Curly. He'd nestled himself in a corner, his arms folded, sitting upright as his head rested against the wall.
Jimmy rubbed his eyes, trying to ignore the nausea that was brewing inside him. "I was going to… I just... fell asleep." He admitted. It was true. Well, mostly. After their long silence, Jimmy noticed that Curly just straight up fell asleep. At first, he was going to wake him up by imitating an emergency alarm noise.
Scare the living shit out of him, you know.
But the longer he thought about it, the less he felt like doing it. The way Curly was peacefully breathing, his shoulders going ever so slightly up and down, made him even less certain. Sure, it'd be funny for five seconds or so. But after that, it would just be yelling and screaming and punching… And truth be told, Jimmy just didn't feel like going through all that right now.
Okay, and maybe he also didn't want to partake in torturing a sleep-deprived man.
So instead of doing what was arguably the funniest practical joke he'd ever thought of, he watched Curly sleep. Not creepy at all, he told himself. Actually, it was quite the opposite. Yeah. You're welcome, crew of the Tuplar, for keeping an eye out for your captain. The ex-detainee has a purpose after all.
He was able to convince himself of that logic for a little while. And then he started getting drowsy himself. When Curly completely slumped over, breathing softly, his overgrown hair covering his entire face, the tone of the room shifted. The silence didn't feel aggressive anymore. A wave of comfort washed over Jimmy.
It felt extremely and immensely unfamiliar.
Having slept very little himself, it didn't take much for him to slowly fall asleep too. His eyelids felt heavier and heavier after each blink until he finally drifted out of consciousness.
"Sitting upright and sleeping is bad for your posture." Anya lectured, rubbing her eyes.
"Yeah, and not sleeping is worse." Jimmy yawned, getting up from the chair and stretching his arms. "How's Daisuke?" He asked, looking over his shoulder.
"Luckily he managed to avoid frying his insides." Anya sighed. "I'm assuming he passed out due to shock."
"So he'll be alright?"
"Yeah, he'll be fine."
"… That's…" Jimmy coughed. "That's good." He nodded. "Good work, Anya." He said, looking up at her.
Anya was taken aback by that comment, but you'd only notice it by the way she raised her eyebrow.
"… Did you talk?" She asked, quickly changing the subject. "I mean to him." She asked, nodding toward Curly.
"Pfft. Talk? That's a big word." Jimmy shrugged. "We exchanged metaphorical middle fingers, but I did tell him what happened."
To this status report, Anya couldn't help but sigh.
"I wanted to say this earlier, but you need to stop aggravating Curly." She said harshly.
"Uhm, Anya, last I checked, he's the aggravator, not me. Did you not hear that man threaten me with a gun?"
"Don't be ridiculous."
"Ridiculous? Ever since I got out of your makeshift prison, all I've been doing is trying to fix what I did. Meanwhile, what has he been doing? I just—
"Jimmy, stop playing the victim." Anya spat, to which he frowned. "I acknowledge you're trying to fix what you've done. I think it's good that you're trying to put things right. But you expect everyone to immediately forgive you for it. That's not how this works." She lectured. "You broke our trust. You broke his trust." She looked at Curly again. "So stop trying to compare yourself with him. You're not on even ground, not even close."
The silence resumed again. A few weeks ago, Anya would've never said anything even remotely close to what she'd told him now. Partly because she was scared of him, but also because it seemed futile. It was like criticism bounced off him like a rubber ball. He wouldn't listen to it, let alone apply it. But she gradually realized that Jimmy had hit a wall that was preventing him from getting better. It was time for him to realize that. He was putting so much time and energy into something that was going nowhere. His expectations needed to be readjusted.
She got little reaction beside him pinching his nose briefly.
"He needs to get to a bed." Jimmy abruptly said, avoiding Anya's gaze and pointing at the sleeping figure. "Posture and such." He added in a mumble. "Can you open the doors while I carry him upstairs?" He rubbed the back of his neck, not even looking at her when he asked the question.
Anya let out a sigh of agreement in return. Just as always, Jimmy deflected her insight and carried on.
_______________________________________________________________
The door of the infirmary slid open and Anya entered. Swansea looked up for a second before turning to watch over Daisuke's unconscious body again. He was seated on a chair beside the hospital bed the intern was lying on. It was near the fake window that displayed an evening scene, emitting a dark blue glow over the two. She sighed, walking up beside Swansea to regard her patient.
"He won't wake up for a while." She told him again.
"I want to be here when he wakes up." He told her again.
She nodded ever so slightly before checking his IV. Everything still seemed to work properly. It'd been a while since she had to hook someone up to one of those things. Luckily Daisuke had visible veins on his arm. The most important thing right now was for him to rest.
"How's captain?"
Anya raised both her eyebrows, sighing deeply. The reaction was unexpected and made Swansea raise his brows too.
"He's sleeping on his bed." She informed.
"That's new." Swansea commented dryly.
"Yeah, well, he needs it." She sighed.
"And the other one?"
"… Jimmy is cleaning again."
"Again?"
"Oh… Yeah, it's his new… hobby?"
"Is that why I'm smelling bleach all of a sudden?"
"I guess that's the only thing he knows how to clean with."
"Pathetic man child."
"Leave him be." Anya chuckled lightly.
Swansea softly smiled, slanting forward to lean on his knees. His grin slowly melted away as he looked from Anya to Daisuke. A sigh slipped out from his lips.
"It should've been me laying there." He mumbled, nodding his head to Daisuke. "We hit an asteroid, for crying out loud. I should've checked the damages more thoroughly." His head hung low, now unable to face Daisuke. "I'd never forgive myself if…"
"Swansea, it's fine. It happens. He'll be up and spitting random facts at you before you know it." Anya smiled, hesitating a bit before putting a hand on his shoulder. A low exhale fled from Swansea's mouth as he shook his head. "I just want to be here when he wakes up." He repeated.
"… I know." Anya softly said, looking at the intern now.
That night was the quietest the Tuplar had been since boarding.
Chapter Text
Bleach is a brilliant and elegant invention. Its deadly and thorough nature, if used correctly, is impeccable. It removes anything and everything it touches. Stains. Accidents. It leaves objects brighter than before application. Nothing stands a chance when it's faced with the all-destroying liquid.
The only major downside is that it stinks.
God, it reeks.
"Use some other chemical, floral, mumbo jumbo we've got lying around, but for god's sake, stop using bleach." Swansea complained to Jimmy, who was about to open another jug of his favorite cleaning liquid. "You're going to get cancer and die."
Jimmy looked at the jug and then back up at Swansea. "But it does the job better." He quietly said.
"I don't care! I am tired of it! Every time I come anywhere near the lounge, I smell it. Even Daisuke complained about it, and he genuinely doesn't give a shit about the living conditions here." Swansea barked. "You've cleaned enough! Do something else."
And that's how Jimmy became a nurse in training.
The day after everything went down, Daisuke awoke during dinner time. Not that anyone was eating per se; it was just during the time they usually had dinner.
Swansea had been roaming around in the infirmary the entire day and called everyone in after he was sure Daisuke was actually awake. Anya came rushing in, followed quickly by Jimmy. She did a quick check-up, and in general, everything seemed fine.
However, a day later she discovered that the muscles in Daisuke's left leg had been impacted by the electrical shock. This resulted in him being unable to walk properly without support.
"Up."
Daisuke groaned, lifting his left leg as high as he could, which wasn't that high. "Hold." Anya reminded, hovering her hand under the leg. She counted to ten before allowing Daisuke to lower his leg again.
"Alright, good job." Anya said, writing down the progress on a sheet. She then turned to Jimmy, who was sitting on the desk, observing the session. She swivelled toward him and showed him the sheet. "So, you'll make sure he does this twice every day. Once after breakfast and once before dinner." She explained, scratching the side of her head with her pen.
As the two talked, Daisuke frowned, looking down at his immobile leg. He moved around his foot, twirling it in circles. That wasn't the big issue. Using his knee was tough. It hurt like hell.
"Can I try walking?" He asked, swinging his good leg forwards and backwards. The two looked up.
"No, you should regain a bit more strength in your leg." Anya said, shaking her head. "I don't want you to twist your ankle."
Daisuke sighed deeply. So deeply that it lasted for at least 20 seconds. He slowly laid back down on his bed, his legs still dangling from the side.
"Dramatic." Jimmy said under his breath, leaning closer to Anya. She in turn rolled her eyes and handed Jimmy the sheet.
"I'm taking my break." She announced, getting up from her chair. "I want to read uninterrupted for 30 minutes, got it?" She asked, looking at Jimmy in particular.
"Got it." Jimmy shrugged, absentmindedly looking at the sheet.
The two men were left alone in the infirmary. They stayed silent for a while before Daisuke pulled his upper body back up in a sitting position.
"Jimmy."
"Hmm?" Jimmy looked up.
Daisuke was staring right at him.
"You're my friend, right?" Daisuke asked, fluttering his eyelashes a few times.
"That's a loaded question for me." Jimmy responded, looking back at the sheet.
"Well, I see you as my working friend, my friend from work." Daisuke continued, trying to advance the conversation. "Friends help each other, right?"
"... I guess they do." Jimmy said carefully.
"Awesome! We're on the same page!" Daisuke cheered. "So as my friend from work, could you maybe, possibly, help me out with something?" He asked in an extremely sweet tone.
"I can give you water, paracetamol, or a biscuit. What do you want?" Jimmy asked, crossing his legs.
"A-Actually, I was hoping you could help me get to the lounge."
"Ha. That's a good one."
An uncomfortable amount of time had passed before Jimmy realized Daisuke was, in fact, not joking. He slowly lowered the sheet, putting it beside him on the desk.
"Listen, man, you heard what Anya said. Trust me, I know she's no expert, but she knows better than any of us. So let's just listen to her for now." Jimmy explained much to Daisuke's annoyance.
"But I haven't left the infirmary in two days now! I'm sick and tired of being here!"
"Wow. Can't imagine being stuck in a room for that long."
"Besides!" Daisuke quickly exclaimed to avoid the conversation from escalating. "I could totally go to the lounge for a bit with your help! Come on!"
"Don't rope me into your tomfoolery. Why not ask Swansea when he comes over?" Jimmy complained.
"He'd never agree."
"Maybe there's a reason for that."
"Jimmy, please." Daisuke whined.
"Anya will kill me."
"No, she won't! She'll understand." Daisuke denied. "I'll take all the blame. Come on!" He begged, clasping his hands and shaking them violently.
Jimmy looked at the door of the infirmary and then back at Daisuke before sighing deeply.
"Fine, fine. You owe me, though." He groaned.
"You're so goated, Jimmy. Thank you!" Daisuke cheered.
"I'm what?" Jimmy asked, getting up from the desk and walking over to his patient.
"Goated? Means you're the best." Daisuke quickly shrugged off.
"Seems counterintuitive to me, but okay." Jimmy mumbled, getting on Daisuke's left side to take his arm over the shoulder. "Lean on me." He grumbled as Daisuke pushed himself off, putting some of his weight on Jimmy.
"We good?" Jimmy asked, readjusting Daisuke's arm.
"We cruising." Daisuke confirmed, a big smile on his face. "Onwards!" He cheered, putting a lot of unexpected extra weight on Jimmy.
"Calm. Calm down." Jimmy grunted, shifting around with him until they were facing the door.
Daisuke was able to use his left leg. Granted, it was more of a limp, but he could move. Carefully he proceeded to 'walk' out of the infirmary, hanging onto Jimmy when needed.
Just as they were about to enter, Jimmy looked up, spotting an unexpected figure sitting on the couch. And as luck would have it, who else could it have possibly been but Captain Curly himself?
Almost immediately Jimmy regretted having even an ounce of compassion for Daisuke. He should've told him 'Too bad! Stay seated like mommy Anya told you, loser.'
But nooooo.
He had to empathise.
And now, as a reward, he had to endure having Curly as an eyewitness as he dragged his disabled patient from the safe infirmary to the sharp-edged lounge.
Awesome.
"Oh, hi captain!" Daisuke exclaimed, waving at Curly.
"... Hey Daisuke." Curly responded, seemingly confused as to why he was up and about. Although, he did look a lot better than before.
That one night of uninterrupted rest did the captain some good. His general demeanour was still quite stoic, but also not as cold as before. In short, he didn't look like he was going to bite your head off at the slightest inconvenience anymore.
"Shouldn't you be resting?" Curly asked Daisuke as the two made their way to the couch.
"I rested enough." Daisuke smiled, letting go of Jimmy and hopping down the small stairs with his right leg to reach the couch, nearly giving him a panic attack in the process.
"Is that also Anya's verdict?" Curly asked, looking past Daisuke to Jimmy, who still stood at the top of the stairs.
"Captain! Can I just say that you look so much better since the last time I saw you?" Daisuke quickly said, trying to change the subject.
"Ouch?" Curly mumbled, taken off guard. An eventual smile did melt on his face though. "I guess I've been sleeping better." He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck.
As they continued speaking, Jimmy looked on, unable to decide if he should sit next to them or just keep himself busy until Daisuke had to go back.
Neither felt right
Chapter Text
"Scoot."
Daisuke looked up from Curly to Jimmy, who was now standing beside the two. Confused, Daisuke moved over slightly. As Jimmy sat down, Daisuke suddenly realized he was sitting between the two. Just as Daisuke wanted to lean backward so he wouldn't be blocking the view, Jimmy turned away from the two.
'Why come sit here then?' Daisuke thought to himself, looking at Jimmy's back for a moment before turning back to Curly. He seemingly ignored Jimmy's presence entirely, looking at the floor as if something caught his interest.
Oh my god, this was so awkward.
"So, uhm… The weather, am I right?" Daisuke asked, not facing either of the two in particular. Neither of them responded. "Awesome... erm... space rocks." He continued, trying his hardest to remember the correct term for 'space rocks'.
"Incredibly crazy we didn't hit one, considering we have him aboard," Curly commented under his breath.
"HA! Funny! Humor!" Daisuke quickly said, looking from Curly to Jimmy.
It was weird. Daisuke was trying to de-escalate a situation that wasn't escalating. Jimmy remained silent and tense. The only thing going around in his head was what Anya had told him.
Ridiculous.
Victim.
Trust.
It wasn't his fault.
He wasn't the one aggravating Curly, and he was going to prove it.
Best of all he had big-mouthed Daisuke as his witness. Jimmy could endure whatever the captain threw at him. Go on, Curly, say what you have to say. Let's see who the aggravator is then.
"Weird times, huh? Glad we're past that." Daisuke nervously chuckled, elbowing Jimmy.
"Maybe he was too busy cutting wires to steer us into one." Curly bitterly smiled.
"Hey! I have a great idea!" Daisuke said a bit louder than he intended. "I am incredibly bored. I think we should play 'I spy with my little eye'." He sputtered, quickly looking around. "I spy with my little eye something... brown!"
That seemed to silence Curly, who stiffly looked around the room. Even Jimmy started eying the room. It was silent for a while until Jimmy's eyes landed on a certain object.
"… don't tell me it's that stupid horse—"
"You're right! It's Polle!" Daisuke cheered. "Okay, your turn, Yimpy."
"What did you just—"
"I mean Jimmy."
Jimmy stared at Daisuke, who innocently stared back with a small smile on his face.
"…I spy with my little eye something that is…" Jimmy sighed, looking around the room. Nothing really stood out to him. "…Something that is blue."
"The LED screen." Curly immediately said.
"How'd you know so quickly?" Daisuke asked.
"Because we are literally sitting in front of it." Curly bluntly said.
"Oh…"
The three men proceeded to stare at the bright blue sky.
"Okay… so… It's your turn, captain!" Daisuke said after a while.
Curly seemed a bit conflicted at first, but eventually he said:
"I spy with my little eye a disappointment."
Curly looked over at Jimmy, expecting at least a comment or a chuckle, but he remained silent. Only a grin of disbelief grew on Jimmy's lips. Typical. He didn't expect any better from him. It was only when they actually made eye contact that Curly caught a glimpse of something else.
Something a lot more… somber.
"… The empty coffee machine!" Daisuke exclaimed as soon as he could. He looked at Jimmy, who was looking away. "Oh, man, I've been craving... coffee. How disappointing that it's empty. Anyway, my turn! I spy with my little eye something... blue... Oh no…"
Daisuke's fake smile faded into a nervous one as he saw Anya standing in the doorway.
"Daisuke!" She exclaimed, a frown spreading across her once surprised expression.
"Ah, damn it." Daisuke mumbled, awkwardly waving at her.
Curly raised an eyebrow at the intern as Anya stomped over to the three.
"You're supposed to be in bed." She lectured. "Why are you here?" She had never raised her voice at him like this. It was kind of scary. Daisuke hastily looked over to Jimmy, who felt offended that Daisuke would even look at him at this moment. His face yelled: Don't rope me into this!
"Jimmy?" Anya spat when Daisuke remained silent.
'What happened to 'I'll take all the blame, Daisuke?' Jimmy thought, glaring at the ground before looking up at Anya.
"He was not supposed to move! I trusted you." She raged.
She was right. Anya was very specific, and yet he chose to ignore her advice and do whatever anyway. Even if Daisuke decided to take all the blame, Jimmy shouldn't have gone against her. He got up from the couch, scratching the back of his head.
"Anya... I—"
"A-Actually, Anya, Curly was the one who brought me here."
Jimmy's eyes widened as he looked at Daisuke. Before he could interject, Daisuke elaborated.
"He came to visit while Jimmy went to the bathroom. I lied and asked him to bring me here. He didn't know any better, and Jimmy was trying to get me back to the infirmary."
It was as if the room's temperature had dropped by a degree. Jimmy felt beyond lightheaded. Couldn't Daisuke just shut his blabbering mouth for one second? He was making everything so much worse.
Meanwhile, Anya's gaze shot toward Curly, who remained frozen and unreadable.
"Curly?" She called. Her question was implied.
Jimmy's first instinct was to look at Curly, but he quickly deviated and looked at the floor instead. This was embarrassing. No, this was humiliating. He couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand being here any longer.
"… Yeah."
Jimmy's heart momentarily halted.
"Sorry, Anya, I didn't know." Curly shrugged with an apologetic smile, maybe the first smile he had given in a while. "I'll be sure to lecture him later." He offered.
Anya seemed taken aback, her shoulders lowering slowly as she looked at the captain. Her gaze shifted to Jimmy, who looked frozen in place, and then to Daisuke, who looked a bit too happy for what was going on. Eventually, she relented, sighing deeply.
"… Daisuke needs at least a couple of days of rest before he starts walking again. Next time, please don't do anything before consulting me or Jimmy." She explained, her voice a lot softer. Curly smiled at her and nodded. "Got it."
After that, Anya asked Jimmy to carry Daisuke back to the infirmary. The intern happily obliged and got carried back bridal style (much to Jimmy's chagrin). Anya had to check Daisuke's leg again to inspect for any damages and told Jimmy to go take a break in the meantime.
Reluctantly, Jimmy left the infirmary and ran into Curly again, who was still sitting on the couch. They looked at each other for a brief second. All this beating around the bush was finally starting to annoy Jimmy. He couldn't grasp why Curly would ever, ever, try to stand up for him again.
And he wanted to know.
"Can we talk?" Jimmy asked from the doorway.
Instead of answering, Curly looked away, staring ahead instead.
Unsure of what that meant, Jimmy walked up to Curly and took a seat not too close to him. The silence remained, making it obvious Curly wasn't going to initiate the conversation.
"Why?" Jimmy asked after a moment, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.
"…Would you believe me if I said it was a slip of the tongue?" Curly asked in response. "An old habit?"
"I'd call bullshit."
"If that's what you want to believe." Curly said, now looking away. "A thank you would be nice."
Jimmy let out a sharp chuckle, his eyebrows sinking lower.
"I never asked you."
"You never do."
_______________________________________________________________
A few people showed me their rendition of the crew (and more specifically Jimmy) so I decided to draw him as well! Enjoy :)
Chapter Text
"Look at us." Jimmy scoffed, rubbing his fingers like a nervous tick. "… What a fucking mess." He sighed. Curly remained static, staring ahead toward the LED screen. Jimmy slowly looked over at the captain. "This was not on my bingo card this year, let me tell you that."
An involuntary chuckled exhale left Curly's mouth, which made him feel devastated and relieved at the same time. He looked back at Jimmy.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Hmm?"
"What do you mean, bingo card? What does that mean?"
"… I've been hanging around Daisuke too much. He spits nonsense." Jimmy grumbled. "What I mean is... I didn't expect… This… Us? Being like this?" Jimmy clarified. "Although I guess that's my fault." He shrugged a bit awkwardly.
"It is." Curly bluntly agreed.
"Thanks for the assurance," Jimmy grumbled, semi-rolling his eyes. "On the bright side… I'm learning a lot of new skills. I'll be a… Cleaning nurse in no time. Which also wasn't on the bingo card," he added under his breath.
There it was again. That weird feeling was accompanied by a hesitant smile.
"… The crew seems tolerant of you." Curly commented.
"I guess? I'm glad that…" A few words lingered in Jimmy's mind, but he couldn't seem to say them. "Well, it all worked out." He eventually said. However, that unfinished sentence stirred something within Curly. It didn't sit right with him.
"Yeah, because I helped you." Curly pointed out.
"Don't take my credit away. You swooped in at the end, and you really didn't need to. I could've handled Anya."
"Yeah, but it sure seemed like you… Broke her trust."
"Woman of big words and small action."
"… So that's how you see it?"
"What?"
"You break someone's trust, and to you it's just... words?"
"Man, whatever."
"Would it kill you to say thank you?"
Jimmy let out an offended chuckle.
"I never fucking asked you to do anything." He snickered.
"Well, you were standing there all sorry-like."
"Excuse you?"
"What was I supposed to do? It's always been like this with you."
"No, no. You just do that. I never ask for anything. You always interject." Jimmy spat, getting more and more frustrated.
"Because that's what friends do!" Curly raised his voice.
"Well, we're not friends, are we?!" Jimmy responded, his voice louder as well.
"I... guess not..." Curly's mouth was ajar as if he was going to say more, but he didn't. Instead he rubbed his face in disbelief. "…God…"
They slowly looked away from each other again. It had to come to this. It was surprising that they didn't yell at each other the moment they started talking.
"You know..." Jimmy started talking again after a moment of silence between the two. Curly noticed him bouncing his leg a couple of times. Neither looked at the other, even though they were sitting beside each other.
"I've been pondering about this for a while, but…"
He looked at Curly, who was staring back out of the corner of his eye.
"You are so… beyond me." Jimmy slowly said. "I don't understand you. I never will. I don't want to." It felt frustrating to put his emotions into words. All those therapy sessions finally caught up with him. What he said was true, but it wasn't what he wanted to say. He felt like he was beating around the bush, and he wanted to stop. But he couldn't. The words spilled out of his mouth before he knew if he wanted to say them.
"I think my life would be better if I had never met you."
Curly's reaction to this was subtle. The expression on his face flickered from skeptical to bargaining to annoyed. Something within him sprung loose.
"You know how ridiculous you sound right now?"
Jimmy let out a sigh through his defeated smile as Curly stood up. "You fake our friendship. You almost crashed the vessel we're on, and somehow you're the one who should've never met me . I don't need to hear this from you," Curly exclaimed, his hand grasping his hair. "After everything you've done, you have the… the gall to just…" His mind was racing faster than his mouth could keep up. "And you come here and—and joke with me like... and I don't..." He turned around, finally looking at Jimmy with glassy eyes and shaking hands.
"You are the worst. You are the worst person I know." Curly sputtered.
"… I—"
"How do you live with yourself? Tormenting people like this? First Anya and now me. I-" Curly looked at his trembling hands. "Do you need it? Do you crave it? …What's wrong with you?" He squeezed his hands into fists, trying to make it stop. "I fucking hate you." He whispered.
Jimmy had never seen Curly like this before. Any semblance of the proud, capable captain was gone. What remained was a broken man. Pushed off the ladder, all bones broken, and left to die in a puddle of blood. That's what prevailed. And it was all because of him.
"… I'm sorry." Jimmy's words felt muffled. He remained seated, staring up at Curly, who looked five seconds away from snapping.
"No, you're not."
"Curly, I'm sorry—"
"Do you even know what you're apologizing for, Jimmy?!" He yelled, looking down at his ex-co-captain.
Words failed Jimmy at that very moment. He couldn't seem to string together anything and instead blankly stared up at Curly, who grew more and more impatient with every passing second.
"For fuck's sake, man!" Curly eventually yelled, kicking the lounge table, almost knocking it over. "Choke on it, then!"
Unable to respond and unwilling to hear a response, the silence returned.
With an outraged scoff, Curly turned to leave.
"Curly." Jimmy called after him, standing up from the couch, but the captain didn't stop.
"Curly." Jimmy called again, sounding a bit more desperate this time, which made the captain turn with the force of a hurricane. "What?"
"I don't."
"You don't what?!"
"I don't hate you."
Curly remained at the doorway, his hand seemingly stuck to the metal frame.
"I've never hated you." Jimmy repeated softly, his head hanging low. "You… Our friendship... I never hated any of it… Curly, I-" There it was again. He physically couldn't make himself say it, but he had to. He had to say it. He had to get over himself. It was now or never.
"I envy you… so... so much."
He took a deep breath, and it felt like the first breath of air he had taken in a long, long while. And now that he could, nothing was stopping the tears from forming. When he realized this, he quickly buried his face in his hands.
"I hate that I envy you. I hate it so much. God, I— I almost killed us all because of it. It was never you, Curly. You never did anything wrong." He took a deep breath, the air dampening around him. "So please don't... Don't think you did anything wrong. I don't think I can..." He sighed deeply, abandoning that line of thought. "Life is unbearable knowing I did this to you."
The creaking of the ship continued, deaf to whatever atmosphere roamed in the lounge. It was good that Curly was holding onto something because he couldn't feel anything anymore after hearing that. His mind went empty. All the rage and tremors left his body. Numbness took its place.
What could he say to this?
_______________________________________________________________
Cannot have one without the other: sooo
Chapter Text
"What are they saying?"
Anya jumped before turning her head, seeing her patient staring at her from his bed. Slightly caught off-guard by his expectant gaze, she shrugged. Jimmy had only left the infirmary a minute ago. Neither Anya nor Daisuke expected him to go back and talk to Curly. Subconsciously, Anya had moved closer to the door to listen to what was going on. She could understand their conversation, but only if they raised their voices, which they didn't do that often.
Arguably, that was a good thing.
"I don't think it's any of our business." She eventually mumbled, folding her arms and stepping away from the door, but Daisuke wasn't having any of it.
"What if they start fighting? We have to know what they're up to." He argued.
"They're grown men; they can talk it out."
"Because that's what friends do!"
"Well, we're not friends, are we?!"
Both of the eavesdroppers heard that one loud and clear. They looked at each other, Anya's eyes wide and Daisuke holding a hand in front of his mouth. It was dead silent for a minute.
"Should we… intervene?" Daisuke whispered.
"I—I... I don't know." Anya responded, shaking her head.
The thought of those two fighting again was scary. Especially considering both had physically recovered since their last one. If she wanted to separate the two, she'd need backup. However, Swansea was downstairs in Utility, and Daisuke… She looked at her patient. He was nervously looking at the door from his bed.
"Anya, help me to the door; I want to listen in!" Daisuke asked in a hushed tone.
"What?"
"Get me your chair; that should be fine, right?"
Anya looked at the door again. In the meantime, the two men started talking again. Yet again, Anya couldn't understand what they were saying, but now she was questioning if she even wanted to hear them. The metal halls of the Tulpar distorted their words beyond recognition.
"Do you even know what you're apologizing for, Jimmy?!"
A moment of silence.
"For fuck's sake, man! Choke on it, then!"
A loud thud accompanied Curly's exclamation, making Anya step away from the door. She didn't want to hear this, but she also couldn't step away.
"Anya, please." Daisuke pled, his voice barely loud enough to hear.
She relented, grabbing her swivel chair and wheeling it over to Daisuke. He quickly hopped on while Anya fussed around. She pushed him toward the door. He quietly slid the door open just enough to let in more sound. Anya left him by the door and walked to the back of the infirmary, pacing back and forth as he listened in.
The most logical thing to do here was walk in and separate the two. Best to break things up before it gets messy. Even so, she couldn't seem to do it. She didn't want to admit to herself that Jimmy, or God forbid Curly, scared her. But if she was being really honest and open, it was quite obvious why she wouldn't want to confront those two on her own.
As she paced, Daisuke found it hard to understand anything that was being said. Both men had lowered their voices. To give himself a bit more leeway, he opened the door a bit more only to see Curly near the exit of the lounge. He had his back turned to him, gripping the doorway with his hand until his knuckles turned white.
Jimmy was saying something from the lounge, but he couldn't understand him that well even with the door more ajar. With a racing heart, he turned his head, trying to capture as much of the sound as he could through the opening.
"-Never hated any of it … Curly, I-"
He leaned in just a little closer. Jimmy had never been this quiet before. In the end, he could only understand a couple of words and string together a few short sentences. However, what he understood left him paralyzed.
Did he hear that correctly?
Curly didn't respond to Jimmy's monologue. After a short silence, he left without saying another word. Not wanting to be caught, Daisuke quietly slid the door closed, his heart pounding against his chest.
He couldn't have heard that correctly.
"...So?" Anya said, finally standing still as she stared at Daisuke.
_______________________________________________________________
"I—erm… I think I just heard Jimmy… confess to Curly?"
Swansea immediately looked over to Anya, who covered her mouth with her fist. Clearly, he didn't expect this to be the topic of discussion during the impromptu gathering in the infirmary.
"Confess?" Swansea asked, looking back at the intern.
"Y-yeah, like… Confess his feelings."
"…You're joking."
"I'm dead serious." Daisuke insisted. "He said something like, 'I love you so, so much.'."
Swansea looked to the side as Daisuke shifted on the bed.
"And I also think he got rejected. Hard." Daisuke added. "Captain just walked away."
"Look, kid, if what you heard was right, I don't think it's any of our business." Swansea grumbled. "You're gossiping about our captain. If we were on a pirate ship, you'd be thrown overboard."
"You cannot expect me to find out about this and then keep it to myself!" Daisuke exclaimed. "I'd go crazy."
The mechanic rolled his eyes before looking at the medic.
"Has he been bothering you with this?" He asked her.
"… I had my suspicions, so what Daisuke said only confirmed it." Anya admitted, looking to the side. "I didn't hear it myself, though."
"So what now?" Daisuke asked.
"Now? Nothing happened. We just continue doing what we do." Swansea shrugged, scratching the back of his neck.
"I agree with Swansea. We should just move on." Anya added with a nod.
"Man, this is going to drive me crazy. How am I supposed to look at Jimmy knowing he got ultra-rejected?" Daisuke whined.
"Don't look at him." Swansea suggested.
_______________________________________________________________
The day passed, and the next one came. Jimmy hadn't really moved from the couch since his talk with Curly. It was almost like he wasn't even in his own body anymore. Everything he touched, everything he saw, felt like someone else's sensation. Anya and Swansea passed by, but neither paid much attention to him.
After he woke up from a terrible night's rest, he decided that sulking was for losers and Curly. With that in mind, he stood up from the couch, stretched, and almost instinctively tried looking around for stuff to rearrange, clean, or organize. After realizing that people had asked him to stop doing that, he instead headed for the infirmary. Surely by now, Daisuke should be awake.
And sure enough, Daisuke was sitting upright, playing on his Game Boy. He glanced up at Jimmy as he entered and quickly did a double-take before pausing his game.
"Good morning." Jimmy awkwardly said, sitting down on his designated therapy chair.
"…Hey champ." Daisuke eventually said with a forced smile. It was meant to sound kind; however, it came over as condescending.
Maybe Jimmy was too out of it to notice, or maybe he just didn't care, but he didn't comment on it.
"How's the leg feeling?" Jimmy asked, nodding toward the leg.
"Ah… Well, you know. It's like, okay. Yeah."
"That's good. You'll surely regain some strength soon."
"Exactly, exactly. That's how life goes, you know? You get hurt real bad, and then you gradually get better."
"That's how that works, yes."
"The road to recovery is never linear."
"…Yes." Jimmy slowly said.
"Just so you know."
"…Okay?"
Chapter Text
"Anya, what is up with Daisuke?"
The medic looked up from her book. She'd read it maybe thrice by now, having severely underestimated how much she'd be able to read during this haul. It didn't really matter. She liked this book: Kafka on the Shore. It was thick and made her mind wander far away from here. Reading was delightful when she wasn't being interrupted every five seconds.
"He suffered an electric shock, and he's in recovery." She responded, returning to her book, signaling that she wasn't going to have a conversation right now.
"Well, yeah… Yeah, I know that much. I mean..." Jimmy pondered, walking over to the couch where she was sitting. "He's been a lot more… talkative with me?" He explained, plopping down on the couch, making her shake up and down.
"He's always like this." Anya grumbled, keeping her eyes on the page.
"To you, sure. Not to me, though. The kid's plotting something…" Jimmy mumbled, looking up at the ceiling with folded arms. Anya didn't respond to Jimmy's conspiracy. "… Do you think Curly put him up to this?"
"No, I think Daisuke is incredibly bored, and you're the closest guy to his age." Anya sighed, closing her book.
"Could be… But… Well, my problem isn't that he's talking with me all the time; it's that—
"Look at the time; my break is over." Anya said, standing up.
"No, no! You keep doing this to me! I know you're just going to keep reading in the bathroom!" Jimmy exclaimed, pointing at the medic.
"No, I'm just going to the bathroom before I start my work." Anya firmly denied, walking away.
"You're a liar and a cheat, Anya!" Jimmy yelled to no effect. "And a bad one at that!" He added right before she disappeared into the hallway.
Jimmy sighed deeply, settling back into the couch with a grumpy expression on his face. "Women..." He groaned to himself.
_______________________________________________________________
"Swansea-"
"Get out; I don't want you in here." The mechanic mumbled, not looking up from the blueprints he was analyzing. Jimmy stepped back and froze by the door of Utility, pressing his lips together.
You punch a guy's locker one time…
"Can I talk to you from here then?" Jimmy asked in a mumble.
"I don't care," Swansea bluntly said.
"… So Daisuke." Jimmy started, which got Swansea to at least glance up at him. "He's been acting weird."
"Fork found in kitchen. What else is new?" He grumbled.
"Okay, yeah, but why does everyone keep assuming I'm stating the obvious?" Jimmy complained under his breath.
"Because you are." Swansea pointed out, making himself laugh.
"My point is," Jimmy quickly said, ignoring the old man's jabs. "He keeps… Comforting me?"
"Yeah, well, you're an asshole, but you're, more specifically, a pathetic asshole."
"Listen, man, I don't need your shit, and I don't need his compassion either." Jimmy grumbled, folding his arms. "So tell him to cut it out."
"Or what?" Swansea asked, looking up, his eyes aimed straight at Jimmy's. "Are you going to beat him up? I'd love to see you try, you stupid piece of shit. The day you lay a hand on that boy is the day you get thrown overboard." With that being said, Swansea returned to his work.
Yet again Jimmy was left out to dry. Realizing this wasn't going to get him anywhere, he almost slammed the door of Utility shut. After reconsidering, he slowly slid the door closed, digging his nails into his hand instead. He didn't want to cause a scene.
Man.
Why did no one want to hear him out? He's been on his best behavior, cleaning and helping around the vessel, and best of all, he stayed out of everyone's way. So then why was everyone treating him like a steaming pile of garbage? Well, everyone except for Daisuke. He's like a raccoon that likes sitting on the pile of garbage, which was pissing Jimmy off on a whole other level. He could almost see how Daisuke walked on eggshells around him.
Why could no one, literally no one, treat him like a person?
Not a liability.
Not a toddler.
Not a nuisance.
Just a fucking person.
The only one who has ever done that... was Curly.
He ruffled his hair in frustration, fluffing it up until it was beyond a regular bad hair day. Taking a quick breath, he walked back to the infirmary. What else could he do?
_______________________________________________________________
Meanwhile, in the infirmary, Daisuke was playing Jenga with Anya. Swansea had discovered the set in one of the storage closets near the sleeping quarters. It was a well-received form of entertainment since Ludo wasn't cutting it anymore. The last time they played was before the incident. Jimmy had gotten so upset, he left mid-game. Curly picked up the slack, and everyone else was left with a sour taste in their mouth. Ever since then, the game has been collecting dust on the lounge table.
Jenga is more fun anyway. They'd been playing for half an hour, stacking the tower higher and higher until the tension in the room became thick and lasting. Nervously, Daisuke tried wiggling out a piece by slowly tapping on it. His eyes narrowed as Anya stared at him. Just as he was about to slide it out, the tower wobbling unsteadily, Jimmy entered the infirmary. The sliding of the door made Daisuke flinch with enough force to knock the tower over. It crashed onto the metal floor, creating a booming blast of sound. Anya's eyes widened, and a grin grew on her face.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Daisuke exclaimed, his hands flying into his hair. "NOOOO!" He screamed, hurling over. Anya smugly crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. Jimmy awkwardly stood by the doorway, not understanding what had just happened. Eventually, he just entered, deciding to ignore whatever they were doing. As he did, the look in Daisuke's eyes suddenly changed.
"What happened to you?" he asked.
Jimmy cocked an eyebrow in confusion until Daisuke pointed at his head. Realizing his hair was still a mess, he quickly slicked it back, trying to brush it off. As he did, he noticed how long it had become. He pinched a lock of hair to inspect it. His length was just above the shoulders. A bit too long for comfort. His bangs had been covering his vision too. Maybe it was time for a chop.
Usually Curly was the one giving him a quick trim. He knew how to cut his bangs, how to cut the layers. Basically, he knew how to make it look good. He was the one who made Jimmy feel confident about his hair again. Before, Jimmy would let his hair grow and then buzz it off. Rinse and repeat. He didn't particularly feel any attachment to his hair.
Then Curly came along and… Well, he noticed that with a little styling, Jimmy could pull off some mid-length cuts. So he… cut his hair for him.
"I-I'm sorry, I didn’t mean it!" Daisuke quickly said, to which Jimmy shifted his gaze to him. "You look great." Daisuke added with two thumbs up. Jimmy frowned until he realized a tear had rolled its way over his cheek. Caught off guard, he immediately wiped it away, using the back of his hand to eradicate any other tear that was about to fall.
"No, no, it's... allergies." Jimmy mumbled, his throat feeling tight. He let out a cough.
"… We're in space." Daisuke said after a moment of silence.
"Space allergies. Never heard of it?" Jimmy asked, his voice now sounding hoarse.
"I… I don't think that's a thing...?" Daisuke said carefully. "Listen, Jimmy. It's okay to cry." He smiled softly.
"I—" Jimmy let out a nervous laugh. "I'm not."
"No one's gonna judge you for it." Daisuke said, glancing over at Anya. She was trying to tell Daisuke to just ignore it, but he kept on going. "I know this is a tough time for you, but we can—"
"You know nothing, okay?" Jimmy immediately said, a passive-aggressive smile trying to block out any more stupid emotions. "You know why? Because I don't know. So how could you? So just… pretend you didn't see this." Jimmy spelled out, his hand circling in front of his face. "I'm going to take her advice." He continued, pointing at Anya. "And go scream in a pillow before I do something I'll regret. I'll be back in ten minutes, and then we're all going to pretend this didn't happen, okay?" He asked, looking slightly manic.
Daisuke's eyes glided over to Anya, who looked semi-impressed at the progress Jimmy was making before he nodded.
"Awesome, see you in ten."
And with that, Jimmy left the infirmary, not bothering to close the door.
"…So, another round of Jenga?" Anya asked after a moment of silence.
"…Yeah, sure." Daisuke shrugged, picking up the wooden blocks from the ground.
Chapter Text
Pony Express Long-Haul
Space Freighter: Tulpar
Crew: 5
Planned shipment duration: 382 Days
Elapsed Transit Time: 191 Days
The status report reminded Curly of information he'd obsessively tracked since they embarked: that they were halfway. The message printed itself with a mechanical sound, interrupting his train of thought. It made him forget what he was even thinking about so hard.
He didn't bother checking the paper, instead letting his eyes fall on the empty chair beside him. Now that Daisuke was recovering, he didn't have a co-pilot at all. To a certain degree, he felt relieved. Not because he hated him or didn't want him around, but… Making him into a co-pilot felt like desperately trying to fit a square into the circular hole. The problem wasn't his unwillingness to learn; Daisuke was quite interested in what it takes to pilot a ship.
No, the fault wasn't with Daisuke.
As much as Curly hated himself for it, seeing anyone but Jimmy sit in that chair made him feel annoyed.
On all accounts, it didn't make sense. The irrational behavior continued, however. Somehow, at some point, Curly thought it'd be a good idea to stick his neck out for the ungrateful mutt. And for what?
"Whatever, man."
That's all he had to say to him. 'Whatever, man.' Curly started aggressively tapping the armrest of his chair with his fingers. He couldn't wrap his head around it. To top it off, Jimmy started monologuing at the end, telling him things that could not have been true. It couldn't be.
But then why did he look like that?
Like a… stray cat left out in the rain. Pathetic and cold and in need of…
Curly slowly deflated into his chair, head in his hands. His head was playing tricks with him. He'd been cooped up in the cockpit, chewing up the same hatred over and over again for too long. His stupid brain, desperate for a new source of entertainment, is using nostalgia goggles on him. That's all this is.
But he was a captain. He had responsibilities that were greater than himself. So then why was he letting these thoughts slip by? It was time to see which gargantuan energy in him was stronger.
His ironclad principles.
Or his unrelenting need to help everyone.
No, not just anyone. He was sure that if he allowed himself to think selfishly for just a second, he'd know what he'd do.
His undying, nerve-wracking, soul-crushing commitment to stand by Jimmy. To be in his corner. To be there for him. To joke and laugh and enjoy each other's silent company. To have good moments, to have bad ones.
But the bad ones are never apologized for. The bad ones are never forgiven. And you know? A part of him could live with that. Another part resented it.
It would never work. How could it? It's poison.
No.
Curly picked himself back up, slowly sitting upright in his chair again to stare at the same old control deck that stared back at him. Whatever happened, he'd have to keep it together. At least until they arrived. He had to keep it together.
_______________________________________________________________
"Just a few more minutes, and then we stretch, mkay?" Jimmy suggested as he watched Daisuke limp back to the dining table.
Anya grew tired of Daisuke's hyperactivity and told the two to get some exercise in the lounge. He'd been doing pretty well, being able to stand all by himself. Walking was the next step.
"Dude, I'm getting so good at this." Daisuke celebrated as soon as he reached the table, holding himself up for dear life.
"You're doing it without any help, aren't you?" Jimmy agreed with a curt nod.
"That's what I'm saying." Daisuke hyped, walking around the table. "Give me a couple more days and I'll be as good as new."
"You shouldn't push yourself. Don't try to rush progress," Jimmy said, trying to sound nonchalant and cool but coming off a bit protective instead.
"When have I ever done that?" Daisuke asked, trying his best to hide his limp.
"…I'm not answering that." Jimmy eventually said, shaking his head.
As Daisuke made his way to Jimmy after looping around the table, he noticed someone standing in the doorway. It was Captain. He was standing a bit into the hallway, clearly not having the intention to come inside. Jimmy had his back to him, so he hadn't seen Curly yet.
Daisuke met Curly's eyes, who seemed taken off guard. A bit surprised himself, Daisuke stopped paying attention to where he was going and lost strength in his bad leg. This made him unsteady and eventually trip. Jimmy, seeing it happen, was quick to rush forward and catch Daisuke before he hit the floor.
"Hey! Careful!" Jimmy exclaimed, guiding Daisuke to the table so he could sit on top. "What'd I say? Don't push yourself." He grumbled, letting go of Daisuke just as he looked over his shoulder. "What are you…" Jimmy mumbled, looking in that direction as well. There was no sign of Curly anymore. "Hey, man, you have to focus on what you're doing." Jimmy lectured, looking back at Daisuke.
"…My bad." Daisuke apologetically smiled.
"Let's just call it a day." Jimmy sighed.
_______________________________________________________________
It didn't matter.
Curly made his way to the sleeping quarters. He needed to be unconscious right now. He couldn't take it anymore. It all felt contradictory. Everything felt so inconsistent right now. Sleep was the only thing that felt appealing. He opened the door to his room, seeing a neatly made bed that hadn't been slept in for a while.
It was weird, but his room felt foreign to him. Like it was someone else's. Even though he was the one who had decorated it. He hung that poster of the Alps on the wall. He'd bought that mechanical alarm clock on the chair beside his bed. He'd received that red bedside lamp from his mother a few Christmases ago. It was all his.
No, no, he was too tired to think about this. As he sat on his bed, untying the laces off his combat boots, one sentence kept bouncing around in his head.
It didn't matter.
No matter how much the crew grew indifferent to what had happened.
No matter how hard Curly tried to remain intact.
No matter how many more times Jimmy would hurt him.
He knew.
Curly knew he was eventually going to crawl back to him whether Jimmy wanted him to or not.
_______________________________________________________________
I snooped through the comments and saw something that I thought would probably happen at some point, so I decided to draw it <3
Thank you @Ma_MeowMeowMeow_aM for the comment :D
Here you have Daisuke braiding a bit of Jimmy's hair after asking him a billion times.
Chapter 32
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Hey, Swansea."
The mechanic got his head out of the vent and looked at the door to see a very unexpected guest entering Utility.
"Hey, Anya. What can I help you with?" Swansea asked, holding onto the support of the ladder. Lately, he'd been busy ensuring safety within the ventilation system. In the grand scheme of things, it didn't really matter anymore. Pony Express was going to fire them either way. However, it gave him peace of mind knowing that what happened to Daisuke would never happen again. Currently, he was rewiring some of the cables and adding an extension so they wouldn't just hang from the ceiling.
"Um." Anya stuttered as she entered, a bit hesitant with her steps. "Didn't you call me here?" She asked, sounding a bit confused. Swansea gazed down at her from the ladder.
"Why would I call you here?" He asked, taking his toolbox and stepping down. Anya rushed in to hold the ladder as he did. "If I needed to talk to you, I'd come to you myself." He elaborated after thanking her. Swansea set his toolbox down on the desk.
"Yeah, that makes sense..." Anya agreed, crossing her arms. "But Daisuke said you needed to talk to me?" She tried with an unsure tone.
"I never asked him to do that." Swansea grumbled, sounding a bit confused himself.
"But then why would he lie?" Anya asked herself before looking up at Swansea, who shrugged.
"Why does Daisuke do anything?" He riddled, to which Anya slowly lifted both her shoulders. "Antics."
_______________________________________________________________
"-and he's been super helpful in my recovery." Daisuke cheerfully said, showing off his revalidated leg by lifting it slightly. "See? Good as new." He proudly said, looking up at Curly, who awkwardly nodded.
"That's great." Curly said slowly, smiling. "I'm glad you're feeling better."
"I cannot overstate how much Jimmy helped. Did I already say that?" Daisuke repeated, to which Curly hummed, scratching the back of his head. He had no idea what he was doing here. Well, obviously he was checking in with his co-pilot. Ensure his health and well-being. But he thought that when Daisuke called him to the infirmary for that, Anya would also be here, yet she was nowhere to be found.
"Also, have you noticed how clean the lounge is? That was also Jimmy." Daisuke promoted.
"I mostly noticed the stench of bleach."
"Well, erm, yes! It sure... cleanses, doesn't it?" Daisuke nervously cackled.
"Sure does." Curly reluctantly agreed. "It also gives you cancer, I'm sure."
"Ahaha… Yeah, yeah. But let's be real, let's be real, captain. These days, what doesn't?" Daisuke asked, jabbing Curly's side with his elbow. "So… Positives! Let's appreciate them!" He cheered in a hushed tone.
Okay.
Okay, what's with this pro-Jimmy campaign?
At first, Curly thought he was being bitter and projected an exaggerated version of a fangirl on Daisuke.
But no. Daisuke had singlehandedly replaced Curly as Jimmy's biggest hype man.
For the past ten minutes, Daisuke had been linking every good thing that had happened in the last two weeks to Jimmy's efforts. His healed leg, the clean lounge, the extra box of sweetener Jimmy found while he was cleaning, which Daisuke had been snacking on. Anything and everything good was because of Jimmy.
"Okay, so I need to get back to work. You got anything else you wanna get off your chest?" Curly exhaled, unfolding his arms and getting up from the desk.
"Erm… erm…" Daisuke mumbled, rubbing his chin. "errrrmmmm… Wait… Wait, it's coming…Yes! Fun fact! Jimmy is incredibly good at leg massages."
Curly shut his eyes, inhaling to say something but not knowing what. "What?" He eventually said, tilting his head in confusion.
"Daisuke, I couldn't find your dino socks. I did find these ones if that makes you feel… any… better…" Jimmy walked into the infirmary, coming face to face with Curly, a pair of pizza-patterned socks in his hand.
"Ah! Thank you!" Daisuke quickly said, scooting past Curly to receive the socks that Jimmy absentmindedly handed over, his gaze to the floor. "You're the best." Daisuke quickly added, walking toward his bed to not stand between the two. His efforts seemed to be in vain; no one seemed to be talking. Jimmy was too shocked to say anything, and Curly didn't have the guts to push past Jimmy, who was standing in front of the door, so he could leave.
"Curly and I were having a fun conversation." Daisuke tried.
"No, I was just leaving." Curly immediately denied.
"Okay, great. There's the door." Jimmy awkwardly said, stepping out of his way.
Daisuke's perfectly crafted plan was crumbling into tiny little, divorced pieces.
"Curly!" Daisuke quickly called.
Curly, aware that he would never leave the infirmary on his terms, sighed deeply and turned around. "Yes?"
"Isn't it so nice Jimmy went through the effort of finding these other socks for me?"
Before Curly could formulate an answer, Jimmy raised an eyebrow. He didn't want this. He didn't want Daisuke's pity.
"Nice? You have ten thousand funky-colored socks in your room. I just picked one when I couldn't find your dino socks." Jimmy complained with a grumpy look on his face. "By the way, rummaging through your sock collection was one of the weirdest things you've asked me to do."
"What do you mean?" Daisuke asked, melting out of his wingman act.
"You know as well as I that the sock drawer is where people keep their private shit. I had to put my whole arm in a cabinet with God knows what." Jimmy elaborated.
"Nah, that ain't me." Daisuke denied.
"I don't believe you." Jimmy doubled down. "Anyway, next time get the stupid dino socks yourself."
"They're not stupid. They're lucky." Daisuke grumbled, seemingly a bit hurt.
Upon seeing this, Curly joined the conversation. "Yeah, don't call them stupid."
"They're socks!" Jimmy exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "Socks are socks!"
"Sentimental attachment, Jimmy. Ever heard of it?" Curly shot back.
"Can you," Jimmy began, now fully turning to Curly, "Stop? Ever?"
"What the—"
The three men turned around, seeing Anya standing in the doorway. "No," she began shaking her head. "No, no, no," she curtly said. "I don't want you two in here. Do this somewhere else." She raged, pushing Jimmy and then Curly out of the infirmary.
"Wait." Jimmy tried as Anya shoved him out. "I-I didn't—"
"I don't care; get out." She barked.
"But I wasn't going to—"
"Out!" She snapped, shoving Curly out as well.
The door slammed shut, leaving the two men to gawk at it from the outside. From inside, you could hear Anya lecture to Daisuke. She seemed stressed. On edge. Not as on edge as Curly or even Jimmy, but she was going through some stuff.
Curly was the first one to look over at Jimmy, who didn't know what to do with his hands. They traveled up to his mouth, hovering right in front of it, moving to his forehead, barely touching it. Eventually, he let his hands glide through his overgrown hair, his fingers itching from feeling the uncomfortably long length. He looked nothing short of devastated.
At this moment, Curly knew he was going to do something he was going to regret.
He grabbed Jimmy by the wrist, which caught him off-guard, but he remained silent. Curly led him, with an appropriate amount of force, deeper into the hall by the area near the medical cabinet. More importantly, he led him away from the infirmary.
It was a small corner, making Jimmy feel trapped. He felt nervous but also extremely angry. He didn't want to see Curly's stupid face right now. He yanked his wrist back.
"Hey, all fun and games, but I really don't feel like beating your ass right now-"
Before he realized it, Jimmy felt a force hit him. At first, he was unsure of what it exactly was until he saw a lock of blond hair scattering his vision. Curly had wrapped his arms around his shoulders, resting his forehead in the crook of his neck. At that moment, Jimmy felt all his muscles turn to stone. He couldn't move. Miraculously, he seemed to be able to talk through it.
"…Are you going to... strangle me?
"Shut up. Just shut up." Curly mumbled into his neck, which sent a shiver down his spine. "Let me have this for a minute."
Was he for real right now? What kind of cruel game was this?
Deciding that he might as well just let it be, he relaxed his shoulders and let out a sigh. His gaze scattered around the room. When he turned his head away, he felt Curly squeeze a bit harder. Hesitantly he lifted his hand, wavering a bit before placing it on Curly's back.
Maybe this was just a cruel game, but right now he was going to entertain the idea that it wasn't.
Notes:
Hey, hey, it's me, Yafa. Here to announce that we've hit a 1.000 kudos. That's like... Extremely crazy to me, if I'm being honest. I'm so glad everyone's enjoying the fic so far! That's all I wanted to say. Just, thank you guys, I really appreciate it :))
Chapter Text
"Come on, ask me about it." Jimmy egged. When he got no response, he placed his head on the genetics syllabus Anya was currently trying to study.
"Okay, fine! What happened?" Anya snapped. She leaned back, massaging her temples.
Now that Daisuke was discharged, she thought he'd take Jimmy with him, but alas. Not only was the fifth limb of the Tulpar persistent, he was also extremely bored. The last few days he'd been in the infirmary. Anya told him to leave multiple times. In the end, she let him stay since he showed interest in her studies. It had been quite bearable. He silently read her old textbooks and, more importantly, left her alone.
That all changed about one hour ago.
"Nothing," Jimmy said, lifting his head from the desk. "After you rudely shoved us out, Curly walked off," he nonchalantly added, looking at his nails.
"Okay, great."
"No, I'm serious. That's what happened. You don't believe me?"
"…What?"
"God, Anya. I thought we were friends."
"We're not."
"Fine, fine. You're right. That's not what happened." Jimmy admitted with a guilty look on his face. Anya felt her left eye twitch. She couldn't go along with his entire spiel anymore. Just as she was about to tell him to stop disrupting her, he deflated like a balloon. With an obnoxious sigh, he slowly pressed his forehead against her desk.
"Can I be honest with you?" Jimmy mumbled, his voice sounding a bit softer.
"I guess?" Anya hesitantly said, unsure why his tone suddenly changed.
"…Curly…" He couldn't quite construct a sentence from there. "… is such a stupid idiot." He mumbled, his hands desperately clinging to his head.
"…Okay?" Anya slowly said. "What happened?"
Jimmy's head shot up, startling Anya as he stared intently at her. "He… Well, he hugged me."
"Hugged you?" Anya repeated.
"Against my will." Jimmy quickly added, with a slight waver in his voice.
"Like… Arms wrapping around you?" She asked, mimicking a hug.
"Like the mushy kind, yeah," Jimmy confirmed. "Though in this case, it was less mushy and more involuntary."
"Wait, so you just… Stood there?" Anya asked, a confused frown on her face.
"Well, yeah, it was involuntary."
"Involuntary?" Anya repeated, skepticism lacing every letter.
"Yeah, he forced me into a hug."
"And you didn't like it?"
"…no…" Jimmy very quietly said, his gaze sliding away from Anya.
Anya felt like slamming her head on the desk, then crawling over to slam Jimmy's head against it as well. Here Curly was extending a hand to that whiny piece of work that keeps pining after him. And all Jimmy could do in return was 'gossip' about it and then lie during his own gossip session.
"I don't believe you." She eventually said.
"But he did! Curly is a weird guy, Anya. He goes around randomly-"
"No. I don't believe you didn't like it."
Jimmy let out a sound, which Anya could only describe as pure disbelief.
"I just told you I didn't!"
"Jimmy, be so real right now." Anya bluntly said. "You talk about Curly daily." She said, counting on her fingers.
"I do not!"
"You keep saying you don't hate him and miss hanging out with him."
"I told you that in confidence!"
"You literally confessed your feelings to him."
"… Wait, what?" Jimmy abruptly said.
"And now you're complaining that the guy you like hugged you?"
"Wow, wow, I said I don't hate him. That doesn't mean I like him! Where'd you get that idea?" Jimmy defended, raising his nose as his expression soured.
They were at a stalemate. Anya cracked open her textbook, flipping through the pages to find the chapter she was on. Meanwhile, Jimmy remained frozen as a statue, unsure why his BFF Anya had been so irritated lately. Initially, she'd be a little curt, but now she started rolling her eyes as soon as Jimmy opened his mouth. He just needed her to agree with him. That's all he wanted really. To tell him: 'Yeah. That is weird.'. None of this psych-mumbo-jumbo.
When he thought about it, Anya never went along with his rants. It would be easier for the both of them if she just nodded her head. But she never did. She always, even if against her will, made the effort to tell him what she thought. She'd sigh and grumble and mutter under her breath, but she was honest.
"Okay, fine." He grumbled.
Anya delayed her reaction, only looking up from the page a few seconds later.
"I liked that he hugged me, and I don't know what to do about that." He quickly admitted with a very strained voice. His gaze was on her textbook, not knowing where else to look. The illustration of the twirling DNA model was enough to keep his mind at bay. "So that's that." He added, barely parting his lips.
His response was unexpectedly sweet. She couldn't help but press her lips into an empathetic smile. "How about you tell him that?" She suggested.
"Anya." Jimmy let out an airy chuckle. "Anya, don't be ridiculous."
And there goes the empathy.
"What? Are you afraid?" She sighed, her smile melting into a smirk. "Go talk to him." She repeated, nodding toward the door.
Jimmy stared her dead in the eyes. Not a fiber of his being wanted to march to the cockpit and have that conversation. However, leaving it like this felt worse. Besides, the crew would probably be very happy if they made up. They could leave everything in the past and move on.
"Yeah, yeah, fine, fine." He grumbled getting up from his chair.
Right as he was about to leave, he popped his head back in. "I did not confess my feelings, by the way, because I don't have any. None. I don't know where you heard that. This is slander." He informed Anya, who looked like she hadn't heard anything he just said. Instead, she kept her eyes on the textbook in front of her.
"Anya."
She didn't look up.
"Anya!"
No reaction.
"Anya, you will be hearing from my lawyers."
"You don't have the money." She rebutted.
"…Worst friend of the century here." He grumbled, slowly walking away.
"Sure am."
It was only when he was going down the stairs that Jimmy registered what she'd said. He slowed down, coming to a halt just before he was at the final step.
He was joking, obviously. What bothered him was that he didn't know which part was a joke.
Nevertheless, friend or no friend, it'll all end when they complete the haul. No need to split hairs over this. Slowly he lowered his foot on the final step and headed toward the cockpit.
Chapter Text
"Why are you here?"
The way Curly said it sounded defensive, yet the look on his face was quite neutral. His eyebrows were tilted just a tad, indicating the slightest bit of discomfort.
"Thought you'd be happy to see me." Jimmy winced with a smile.
No response was given as Curly remained seated, his head slightly tilted toward the door. He returned to the command deck when Jimmy closed the door behind him. It was quiet for a second before he felt his ex-co-pilot lean on the head of his chair.
"What are you doing?" Jimmy asked, looking up at the dashboard.
"…Just the regular stuff." Curly answered with a shrug. His hands suddenly felt clammy.
"Boring stuff then." Jimmy corrected, putting more of his weight on the chair, making Curly tilt backward slightly. This felt uncomfortably familiar to how things used to be, but it wasn't a bad feeling.
"Boring stuff..." Curly agreed in an absent mumble, his eyes glued to the sonar. The little noises in the room took over their senses. Every detector, indicator, and coordinator beeped and rumbled as they did every day.
"… about the other day." Jimmy began with an inhale, making Curly tense up again. He expected Jimmy to continue speaking, but it took him a while to get there. He wanted to turn around and look at him, but he knew that doing so would surely result in Jimmy not talking at all. Not facing each other was easier.
"… Do you just… go around hugging people randomly?"
Anxiety started rushing to Curly's ears, making them sizzle and eventually dampening the noise around him.
"I mean, I just…" Curly started, being unable to hear himself. "It just happened. I'm sorry." Something about the way Jimmy exhaled made it incredibly obvious that he didn't want to hear that from Curly.
"No, don't... Stop apologizing." He grumbled, pressing his forehead into the soft pillow of the chair. Some of his hair lowered onto Curly's head, tickling it slightly. It sent a shiver down his spine.
Anya had hyped Jimmy up so much that he forgot that talking to Curly was extremely difficult.
"Look, I just need to tell you that… I didn't... hate it." Jimmy slowly said, raising his gaze to the command deck. When he glanced down at Curly, he saw little movement. "S-So just… Take that as you will!" He quickly said, getting the urge to evacuate the cockpit as fast as possible. When Curly realized that Jimmy was leaving, he finally turned around.
"Where are you going?"
"There's work to be done, people to see." Jimmy babbled, his hands twirling in all kinds of directions.
"Hold on. Can we talk about this a bit more?" Curly hesitantly got up.
"I don't see what there is to talk about. A colleague hugged another colleague. That wouldn't make headlines."
"…Why do you keep doing this to me?"
Jimmy froze before turning around and seeing a confused Curly. A thousand possible replies raced through Jimmy's mind, and the one he went with was:
"What are you expecting from me here, captain?" The cynical smirk coupled with the nervous look in his eyes felt like a barrier he put up. "I just came here so you wouldn't feel bad." He continued. "Because you always do that. You always feel bad when you really don't have to." His intentions to sound less ironic were in poor taste. The more he spoke, the worse it sounded. His tone of voice was too stiff, too detached. His attempt to sound comforting died the moment he opened his mouth.
"You can't be serious..." Curly's gaze flickered between him and the door. "Jimmy, we need to talk about this…"
"This? Captain, we hugged. People do it all the time."
"No, no, not just about the hug. About us."
"Wow, wow, wow. Tone it with the 'us.' Half the ship already thinks we've got something going on."
"What?"
"It's crazy!" Jimmy exclaimed in a panic, his tone bitter. "They're crazy."
"… Jimmy, can we please talk?" Curly asked a little less empathetic, ignoring Jimmy's remarks.
"There is nothing to talk about! Nothing!"
"Why'd you come here?!" Curly yelled, frustration and anger pouring from every syllable. "There is no reason for you to come here! You could've ignored what happened, but you didn't! You came here and acknowledged it, so why did you? Why are you here?"
Yet again, Jimmy failed to find an answer. The responses that came to mind either shifted the blame or would hurt Curly, so he remained silent. This enraged Curly, who was yet again yelling at a speechless individual. This game, this play they performed every single time, was reaching its limits.
For a moment, it couldn't have been more than a second; Curly understood why one would want to crash into an asteroid. He couldn't handle this anymore. The endless hours of being alone in the cockpit with no one to talk to had finally gotten to him. To top it off, the only person that he wants to talk to keeps provoking him until he breaks down.
At that very moment, he felt like he could kill him. He could strangle him with his bare hands.
Meanwhile, Jimmy, still unable to come up with a witty comeback, saw a dangerous shift in Curly's eyes. His glassy blue eyes were wide and clear, not obscured by exhaustion like before. He could almost see the adrenaline pumping through his veins.
Ah, he had really angered him this time. What now?
Jimmy knew better than to trust his mouth. Anything he could come up with wouldn't sound comforting in the slightest. His mind only wandered a bit further before he realized what he should do. It was a bit unoriginal, and he felt a bit queasy thinking about it, but what can you do?
Jimmy took a step forward, which took Curly by surprise. What shocked him more was the sudden contact Jimmy made by placing his hand on his shoulder. Before he all and well realized it, he felt Jimmy, in an incredibly awkward move, wrap his arms over Curly's shoulders.
Jimmy finally got a taste of his own medicine when Curly simply stood there, arms by his side. Embracing someone who doesn't hold you back felt bizarre. This was weird. For both of them. They stood there for a moment before Jimmy's expression turned rigid, his eyes almost twitching.
"All right, I'll be the first to admit that a one-sided hug feels awful." Jimmy muttered.
As he said that, he felt Curly slowly relax. "You're so stupid." He exhaled, which made Jimmy flare up in all kinds of ways.
"Dude! I'm trying!" He exclaimed right before Curly wrapped his arms around him.
"I know..." Curly mumbled, pressing his head into the crook of Jimmy's neck.
Oh.
Jimmy's eyebrows rose slightly, a sudden epiphany over the horizon as he tightened his grip around Curly. This thought appeared before him like a bundle of light shining through thick mist, blinding his vision. Everything he'd done since the incident, everything he'd put himself through, all of it seemed so meaningless right now. Because this, this, was...
Talking is hard. Talking requires so much effort. However, the moment Jimmy touched Curly, their frustrations disappeared into a cloud of smoke. All this time, it was this easy?
What's all the use of... being better if this is so, so, so much easier? Jimmy's hand disappeared into his golden locks, his fingers flowing through his messy hair, making Curly flinch ever so slightly.
Oh, this is way easier.
Chapter Text
The impossible had somehow become a reality over the course of a couple of days. It was quite like the turn of a century, in a way. Everyone felt a shift in the dynamic, but physically, nothing changed, especially when considering the lounge. It was unlively, maybe even more so.
The only real tangible change was the fact that Jimmy was now not spending his time in the infirmary or the lounge but next to Curly in the cockpit. It took the crew a mere day to notice since Jimmy used to be up in everyone's business all the time. The first one to locate Jimmy was Daisuke, who had returned to his co-pilot training.
When the young intern entered the cockpit in the morning, ready to pick up where he left off, he saw Jimmy sitting in the co-pilot chair, having a chat with Curly. This by itself was unusual. Top that off with the fact they were smiling, and you had yourself an abnormality.
At that very moment, Daisuke felt like he was the matchmaker. He could almost hear the prerecorded applause. A mass of people cheered him on for contributing to this vessel. Truly, being raised by two constantly bickering parents gave him all the experience he needed as a moderator to bring people closer together. What a joyous event. He held himself back from bowing, instead giving himself a pat on the back, quite literally, by energetically patting his shoulder twice.
Hell. Yes.
"Good morning, you two!"
Curly was mid-sentence when Daisuke came in. He was surprised to see him, although a part of him knew he'd be coming in sooner or later. He and Jimmy had been talking through the entire night. Like old times. It was pleasant as long as they stuck to non-offensive topics.
Luckily, Jimmy was great at steering the conversation away from anything… real. Whenever Curly felt like bringing up something that'd been weighing on him, like, for example, how real their friendship was before the crash, Jimmy would deviate by changing topics abruptly.
On one instance he raised his hand, the flickering of the command deck giving it a green glow. "Is your hand bigger than mine?" He asked absent-mindedly. Unsure, Curly lifted his hand too, momentarily distracted by the sudden question.
"…I mean…" Curly mumbled.
"Come here." Jimmy offered, raising his hand toward him. Hesitantly, Curly put his hand against Jimmy's, immediately sensing how cold it was. His hand was veiny and calloused, his fingers slender. It wasn't by a lot, but Curly's hands were definitely bigger. "Why are your hands so warm?" He asked, eventually pulling his hand away.
"They're not; yours are ice cold." Curly insisted with a breathy chuckle.
"Nah, you're actually just a heater cosplaying as a captain." Jimmy denied, rubbing his hands together.
It felt like old times. Then again… maybe it wasn't so lucky after all. As much as he enjoyed just talking to his friend again, it felt… surface-level. Like a screenplay. Premeditated.
In any case, Curly cut himself off, raising his hand slightly. "Hello." His greeting was nothing more than polite.
"Hey, man!" In contrast, Jimmy sounded a lot more excited. "How's the leg?" He asked, twisting his upper body so he could face the intern.
"Perfectly fine." Daisuke responded with a smile, lifting his knee up in the air. "Ready to be an active member of society again, mostly." He added a bit more sheepishly.
"By all means." Jimmy agreed, getting up from the chair. Curly's head jerked toward him, catching his attention. They made eye contact for a second before Curly averted his gaze again. He coughed, turning back to the dashboard.
"Yeah … We need to go over the basics again." Curly announced.
"Go on then." Jimmy said, looking at Daisuke. "I'll be … Well, I'll be around." He scratched the side of his head.
As Daisuke took a seat next to the captain, Jimmy headed toward the exit. Curly's eyes rested on Daisuke for a second before shooting toward Jimmy. "Actually," he called. "I think it would be beneficial for Daisuke to learn a bit from the previous co-pilot." He suggested. Jimmy turned around, hand resting on the door handle.
"From me?" Jimmy asked, pointing at himself.
"Yeah. Despite everything, you still have some solid experience, don't you?" Curly insinuated, his gaze fixed on his ex co-pilot.
It took Jimmy everything in his entire being to suppress the smile that threatened to grow on his lips. "Yeah, I mean, sure, I can give some pointers, I guess, if you want." He agreed, looking at the floor as he covered his face with his overgrown bangs. "What do you think, Daisuke?" He asked, trying to avert attention away from himself.
"Oh, sure! I don't see a problem with that!" Daisuke smiled, looking between the two.
Soon he would, in fact, discover the problem with that.
_______________________________________________________________
"Can you take a breath between your sentences?" Swansea asked, watching as Daisuke walked in circles around the dinner table. "Also, sit down. You're making me nauseous." He grumbled, putting down his cup of what he liked to call: pretend-coffee. It was just plain Earl Grey tea. They ran out of coffee a while ago, but somehow Pony Express had the funds to give them more tea bags than needed. Way more.
"Swansea." Daisuke complained, hanging on every letter like it was a sad love song. "I am suffering from success over here!" He exclaimed, sitting down on the opposite side of the table. "I mean, one moment they're threatening to kill each other, the next they're soulmates again! That's great in theory, right?" He asked, his hand in his hair, pushing back his bangs.
"Sure."
"Wrong!" Daisuke groaned into his hands. "I've become a third wheel in my own classroom. They're too busy with each other that they forget I'm also there."
"Uh-huh."
"I am his student. Me. Do you know how little rizz you need to have to become a third wheel in that scenario?"
"You keep inventing words like I know what they mean..."
"Swansea."
"Daisuke."
"I don't know what I'm doing wrong."
Swansea took a deep breath, his crossed arms tightening around his chest. "You're not doing anything wrong." He affirmed, shaking his head. "You haven't done a single thing wrong ever since you set foot on this cargo ship. You've always done what you're told without complaint. In all regards, you're a perfect worker."
"That's not what I mean..." Daisuke mumbled, folding his hands on the table. "I don't think they like me all that much. The guys, I mean."
"Why do you care what they think? One is a de facto criminal; the other has lost it."
"I don't know … I think they're... cool..." He scratched his thumbnail.
"You're much cooler than them." Swansea adamantly denied.
"Awh, that's so nice of you." Daisuke chuckled weakly.
"I mean it. You're funnier, more creative, and a heck of a lot smarter." Swansea doubled down, leaning forward in his chair, tapping on the table. "You're basically learning how to steer a vessel on your own. And you're doing pretty damn well. Besides, those losers couldn't name a speedrun strategy if their lives depended on it. So really, it wasn't even a competition to begin with. You're way cooler."
Daisuke pressed his lips into a tight line. "Thanks, Swansea, I appreciate it." He softly smiled.
"Don't mention it. I'm just reminding you of how great you are." He grumbled, lifting his hands. "Now don't forget it; I'm not going to keep boosting your ego forever."
"Yeah, yeah, got it." Daisuke nodded with a chuckle.
Chapter Text
It was late.
The Tulpar had grown silent as its workers took their well-needed rest. As fate would have it, one of them couldn't. On most evenings, the captain kept steering throughout the night. After the incident, he discovered that he couldn't sleep anymore. Well, at least not in long stretches. He'd get night terrors, waking up in a cold sweat, his heart in his throat. And that's if he managed to fall asleep at all. Usually, he'd stare up at the ceiling, his head racing through memories.
Of that night.
Of Jimmy.
The feelings…
His solution? He broke Pony Express' regulations. The company mandated that every worker go to sleep at midnight and wake up at 7 a.m. sharp. No one particularly followed this rule all too well, but it was a guideline. Curly decisively threw that out of the window and took a power nap at noon instead. That sustained him for the short term, but some days he'd crash, sleeping the entire day and waking up with a splitting headache afterward. Nobody noticed. That's how irregular his sleep schedule was.
Today was a bit different. Jimmy had convinced him to leave the cockpit and try to get some rest. He was hesitant, but Jimmy waved him off, crashing on the couch as he mumbled:
"Your eye bags are falling off your face."
So Curly at least made the effort to walk into his bedroom. He'd changed into his nightwear: an oversized company shirt and dark blue gingham pants. His room was cold and uninviting. He hadn't made his bed since the last time he slept here, giving him a weird feeling. He didn't like it when his room was messy. He didn't like it. He didn't want to be here.
Hesitantly he opened his door again, trying to be as quiet as humanly possible. The walls were thin and the doors were loud. When he eventually stepped out of the room, he was unsure of what to do next. Maybe he could retreat to the cockpit; it's not like he felt sleepy. He never feels sleepy.
Fatigued, maybe.
But not sleepy.
He peeked inside the lounge for a second, the large blue-toned LED screen shining back at him. When he slowly, and extremely carefully, walked in, he saw Jimmy lying stomach down on the couch. He had a pillow squeezed between his right arm and head, his hair flowing off. It amazed Curly that he could fall asleep next to something that bright. Well, maybe it wasn't that surprising since Jimmy's apartment was located next to a pub. They blasted music every night, the bass shaking the furniture, yet Jimmy insisted he slept like a baby. Curly had been to his place twice.
Once when Jimmy got alcohol poisoning.
And another time when Curly's father passed.
Both times his place was a mess. Empty cans of beer covered the floor near the stained couch. The table was full of crumbs and old dishes, and a cheap, white, plastic tray rested on an empty spot littered with tobacco flakes. The place smelled heavily of cigarettes and cheap cologne. Jimmy didn't permit him further than the living room, so that's all he saw.
People could say a lot about Jimmy, and it'd all be true. The only thing they couldn't deny was that Jimmy was extremely good at keeping his nicotine addiction at bay. Smoking, of course, isn't allowed on the Tulpar. So whenever they go on a haul, the first week or so, Jimmy is chewing gum. Every second of the day. He chews until his jaw hurts, and after that, he snaps at people until his withdrawal symptoms disappear.
Every single time, Curly hopes that, once he stops, he'll keep at it. However, the moment they touch down, Jimmy disappears into the first drugstore he can find and lights one up.
He stared down at Jimmy from the elevated platform. With a sigh, he sat down on the floor, his back to the wall separating the couch area from the rest of the lounge.
"Wanna know something funny, Captain? You think you can abandon me and the crew after this ends, but I'll let you in on something. We're going to die together."
Why couldn't it have stayed how it was? Why did he have to go and ruin everything? And why did he ever think that Curly would abandon him? They were fine, weren't they?
"Is that you, captain?"
In response, the captain accidentally banged the back of his head against the wall, letting out a hiss of pain.
"…That's a yes." Jimmy slowly responded, shifting to his side. Curly pushed himself up, rubbing his head. Meanwhile, Jimmy groggily sat up, rubbing his eyes vigorously. "What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice raspy.
"… I felt like sitting on the floor," Curly explained, now fully on his feet.
"On the floor? Here in the lounge right next to where I sleep?"
"…Yes."
"Good to know I'm relevant enough to be stalked," Jimmy grumbled, leaning his head back. His eyes were closed, almost like he wanted to keep sleeping, but felt obligated to hear Curly out.
"That's not it..." Curly responded, half smiling.
"No, no, I get it. My charm is undeniable."
"Not that undeniable."
"I don't know; it got me quite far, you know?"
This landed Jimmy a flick on the forehead.
"Don't get carried away." Curly reminded plainly, making his way down the stairs as Jimmy rubbed his forehead.
"I was joking. It was a joke." He exclaimed right before Curly hushed him.
"People are sleeping."
"So how come you aren't?" He asked as Curly sat down next to him.
For a second, Curly wanted to tell him he was the reason. Because of Jimmy's stupidity, egocentrism, and lack of foresight, he lost the ability to sleep.
You.
You are the reason.
"Just can't." Curly shrugged, folding his arms.
"Lame." Jimmy mumbled. "I can sleep just fine." He continued, leaning his head back again.
"Go ahead, I'm not stopping you."
"I will in a bit." He mumbled, his words getting less and less enunciated.
"…Yeah." Curly said, his eyes fixated on Jimmy, who slowly sunk deeper and deeper into the couch. "… Hey, can I tell you something?"
"Knock yourself out." Jimmy yawned; his eyes remained closed as he adjusted his posture.
Curly waited for a moment until he heard Jimmy's breath become deeper and more regular.
"I've been thinking about this for a while now." He began, his eyes still on Jimmy, who didn't seem conscious anymore. His suspicions were confirmed when his head tilted sideways. "I'm not sure I forgive you for what you've done." He continued, looking at the bright moon displayed on the LED screen. "I don't expect I ever will. I will never forgive you, yet I am doomed to crave your company. I think that's my punishment. Twisted, right?" A light chuckle threatened to escape as he clamped his hands together. "It's not like you mind, do you?" He asked, looking back at Jimmy, who was still motionless.
"I think you like me better like this anyway." He mumbled, leaning back on the couch. Saying it out loud scared him more than he thought it would. His smile faded quickly. They sat next to each other in silence, Jimmy's head slowly falling off the top of the couch and hanging from his neck. It started bobbing a bit before it leaned toward Curly, landing on his upper arm.
His posture was terrible.
Curly sighed deeply, adjusting his shoulder so Jimmy leaned more into the crook of his neck. He placed his arm around the top of the couch, supporting them both. His hand dangled from the couch for a moment before he took notice of how long Jimmy's hair had gotten.
He should cut it for him soon.
Chapter Text
"-business here. Go back to your station."
"And do what? Sit there until they wake up?"
Blobs of color pricked on Jimmy's retinas. Bright blue and blinding white shades pierced through his narrowed eyes, making his eyelids flicker. His neck was killing him; it felt like a needle was stuck in the crook of his neck. Why was he sleeping upright anyway? His cheek was warm.
When he realized he'd been sleeping against Curly, he almost lost a whole five years of his life. The captain's arm was around him, his head resting on Jimmy's. Meanwhile, Jimmy had been sleeping with his head buried in the crook of Curly's neck.
It'd been fine if they were sleeping next to each other. They did that all the time back in the day when Jimmy used Curly's apartment as a place to crash after parties. They'd pass out on the couch together. Key detail, however: They fell asleep on opposite sides of the sofa.
Do friends … Just … Do this kind of stuff? He tried to look up at Curly from the position he was lying in. There was nothing much to see, of course. He was just snoring. Quite loudly, actually. Jimmy couldn't believe he fell asleep next to an actual rusty, old chainsaw.
I mean, if you think about it …
Sleeping against him was the smart thing to do. It's cold on the Tulpar at night. That's right. Jimmy's natural survival instincts kicked in, and he did what was best for his immune system. He is a fighter and a survivor. Sorry, Curly, but you're going to have to be collateral. Thank you very much for your services.
It's good that we got that figured out.
Therapy is finally paying off.
Thanks, Anya!
He sighed, his head sinking back into Curly's shoulder. The scent of his cologne faintly emanated from his neck: Old Spice. The same smell hung in the bathroom of the captain's apartment. The rest of his home smelled of … nothing. Little clean freak aired out the place before every visit.
Fucking poser.
"Daisuke, think with me here for five seconds."
The way Anya spoke was low and threatening. She'd been whispering, but clearly not whispering … whispery … enough? Is that a word? In any case, she was loud.
"As far as I can tell, they've been sleeping for longer than five hours, which is a record amount for Captain. Leave them." She hissed at Daisuke, who was, probably, standing nearby. Jimmy couldn't really check the facts, being in a compromised position.
"Fine, fine, I get your point," Daisuke whispered back, his voice volume being on par with Anya's. "I'll find something to do."
At this point, Jimmy realized they were talking about him. Well, him and Curly. Right alongside that realization, he concluded he could get away with laying around all morning without having to do anything. And nobody would tell him otherwise.
What are they going to do?
Call Captain?
With a growing smirk suiting a voluptuous cat who just got away with getting second dinner, he closed his eyes. As he left himself to drift off to sleep, the aroma of old spice hung around him.
_______________________________________________________________
Genuinely?
One of the best night's sleep that Curly had ever gotten. His neck was sore, he had a splitting headache, his back felt like a broken chair leg, and yet … He was completely and utterly gone for the entire duration of his slumber. Aside from all the physical and mental ailments, he felt great. It felt like a weight had been lifted and he could breathe clearly.
He didn't mean to fall asleep like this. At first, he was just going to rest his eyes for a moment, but before he knew it, he was completely gone, and it was the next morning. When he woke up, Jimmy was still asleep. Looking at the LED screen, he deduced it was somewhere right after noon.
Meaning he fucked up. Big time.
Without another second wasted, the adrenaline shot his body up, making Jimmy plummet face-first on the couch. As the groggy ex-pilot groaned into the couch, Curly sprinted to his bedroom. By the time Jimmy picked himself up, trying to piece together what had just happened, the fully dressed captain came running through the lounge. His jumpsuit wasn't buttoned up, his hair was going in all directions, and his hands were hanging onto his combat boots.
"Rude ass motherfuc — "
"Late. Gotta go. Can't talk." Curly barked, zooming past Jimmy.
"Give a man time tO WAKE UP, YEAH?!" Jimmy yelled after him, throwing the nearest decorative pillow toward the Olympic sprinter. The pillow hit the kitchen counter and missed Curly by half an inch.
"Sorry!"
The apology echoed through the halls, leaving Jimmy to grumble alone in the lounge.
_______________________________________________________________
"I'm so sorry."
Daisuke flinched, taken off-guard by the captain's sudden appearance, quickly hiding his Gameboy under the pilot manual.
"I overslept." Curly sighed, plopping down in his chair and starting the engine.
"O-oh… That's fine. I was busy brushing up on my basics anyway." Daisuke shrugged and slightly lifted the book, his Gameboy almost slipping out. "You looked comfortable anyway."
Curly, upon hearing this, slowly looked toward Daisuke.
"You should've woken me up." He mumbled, flicking up some switches.
"Nah. Anya said you could use it." Daisuke smiled. "The sleep, I mean..." He nervously added.
"Anya said that?" Curly asked, looking at the floor.
"Huh? Yeah. She's been extremely worried about you."
"… I see." Curly nodded curtly, delicately placing his hands on the steering wheel.
Anya…
It felt like it was the first time he genuinely thought about her in a while. Of course, the concept of his crew always followed him around, heavy on his chest. Do what's best for the crew, think of the crew, do it for the crew, and don't forget it's all for the crew.
Crew, crew, crew.
It didn't even feel like a real word anymore, let alone the people that represented it. Truly, it was a miracle the crew didn't crumble into bits and pieces, and something told him that miracle was named Anya. Daisuke couldn't have done it; he doesn't know what it takes to man a vessel. Swansea also wouldn't dirty his hands with peacekeeping. And Jimmy… Well, no one wanted help from him anyway.
So it must've been Anya who pulled everyone together after the incident. She must've picked up the pieces when the captain was unable or unwilling to.
How did this only occur to him now?
"Captain… Are we gonna move any time soon?"
Curly suddenly felt the rubber grips of the wheel in his hands again. Right. He was steering right now; he couldn't be hung up about stuff like this right now. Plan of action: Steer the ship now, talk to Anya later.
"Yup." Curly responded with a soft smile on his face as he released the auto anchor and pumped the engine. "Pay attention; you'll be steering after I get us into a safe trajectory." He added much to Daisuke's horror.
"I am?!" Daisuke exclaimed.
"Yeah. You know the theory; let's see you pilot."
"Like, right now?"
"Like, in five minutes."
"Ain't no way."
"You don't want to?"
"I do!" Daisuke insisted almost immediately, which got a hearty laugh out of Curly.
"All right, let's see you do it then."
Chapter 38
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Can you guys make up your mind? Don't clean, do clean… What do you want from me?"
The snarky comment failed at making any sense and succeeded at pissing Swansea off. He narrowed his eyes at Jimmy, who seemed uninterested in having this conversation. In fact, he was already turning to walk away right as the mechanic wanted to say something.
"Do you have any concept of moderation?" Swansea asked, his voice authoritative, almost like an aggravated parent. This made the runaway turn his head toward him.
They've had this conversation thrice now. Not the moderation bit; that was the first time Swansea actually came up with something clever. However, he had asked Jimmy to clean the lounge thrice now.
Now that Jimmy and Curly were buddy-buddy again, the ex-pilot felt no need to appease anyone anymore. Ergo, he stopped doing anything useful. He reasoned that keeping Curly entertained was exceptionally important. While that may be true, being Curly's personal jester should not be a 9-to-5 job. Jimmy argued otherwise; his logic went as follows:
'Entertained Captain = Distracted Captain = Unproblematic Jimmy = Happy crew = Good working environment.'.
Needless to say, after hearing that Anya clocked out for the day. The fact that the captain and his previous pilot reunited wasn't the issue, however. The big problem was that, even though the lounge never got cleaned before the incident, Jimmy used it as his personal bedroom. Result: His dirty clothes, dishes, sheets, and anything else he didn't feel like stowing away were lying about. Before, he used to be so bored that he cleaned the lounge like clockwork. Now, he doesn't feel like it.
"Look, man, I offered my services to the crew, and you told me to stop." Jimmy argued with a shrug. "What more do you want me to do?"
"To clean up after yourself, you ill-mannered oaf."
"Hey, I gave you guys a package deal. Either I clean everything or I clean nothing." Jimmy explained slowly, a smirk growing on his lips. "You made your choice."
"It's either on or off with you, isn't it?" The mechanic chastised. "One extreme to the other." He added, making Jimmy roll his eyes. "How long do you think Captain will put up with your crap?"
"I don't know. How long till the haul is over?"
"…" Swansea raised his nose, creating a complex web of creases on his face.
"Guess you don't know either." Jimmy snickered before abandoning the mechanic in the hallway.
_______________________________________________________________
"He won't do it." Swansea grumbled, kicking one of Jimmy's white shirts out of the way and under the lounge table. "And I doubt involving the captain will do us good." He added right before dropping himself on the couch beside Anya. "It's from one headache to the next with that guy."
He exhaled some kind of profanity that Anya was too distracted to understand. "I thought that them getting along was going to improve our quality of life." She mumbled, her hands intertwined in an uncomfortably tight composition. "I put a lot of time in that man…" She added, staring off into space. The dirty laundry, the dirty mugs, the stench of body odor—she blocked it out. "A lot of faith."
Yesterday the captain came knocking on her bedroom door, asking to have a private chat with her. It was quite out of the blue, and it was right before her bedtime, but she agreed to talk with him. They moved to the infirmary, where Curly proceeded to throw out some buzzwords:
Gratitude.
Indispensable.
Responsible.
All of which she had to repeat to herself when things didn't work out with Jimmy. "Curly will be grateful. At least he'll know I'm indispensable. I'm taking responsibility." Things that she would've liked to hear from him way, way earlier. Now that he was saying it, it sounded formal.
A capitalistic pat on the back.
His thanks felt much like receiving a company birthday card. It has a nice, nonoffensive image on the front and nothing written inside. You remind yourself it's the thought that counts and people are so busy these days. Actually, you should be happy you're getting anything at all.
Be grateful that you're being acknowledged at all.
She looked at him as he spoke, and she knew he meant everything. Or at least, he thought he understood what he said. But he knows nothing. He wasn't there. At the end of the day, when all is said and done, Curly wasn't there; Anya was.
She was put in charge of someone who attempted mass homicide.
Jimmy is a dangerous individual who goes through violent outbursts. He doesn't care about others, and he doesn't care about himself. And as keen as he was to point that out during his depressive episodes, he refused to acknowledge it now.
The only reason Jimmy is 'alright' now is because of her.
And it was a nightmare.
And Jimmy made her cry.
And she couldn't sleep at night.
And Curly isn't acknowledging that.
And what did she have to say to that?
"Don't mention it." The smile on her face was fragile, her eyes glossy. "I'm happy everything is back on track."
Come to find out that everything was indeed back on track exactly as it was before. Jimmy was reverting to his old self. Curly was protecting him from the scrutiny. It was laughably tragic.
"…Am I talking to the walls or…?"
Swansea's comment shook her out of the trance she was in. Her bottom lip hurt. She'd been gnawing away at it.
"Erm…Yeah, no. I mean, no. Sorry, I'm not in my…" She sighed, counting the joints in her left hand. "Can you repeat what you said?" When she looked at the mechanic, he looked neither angry nor disappointed, even though he sounded like it.
"I was just asking how you were holding up." He repeated cautiously.
Whenever someone asks Anya how she's doing, it always triggers something within herself. Usually, it's the waterworks. This time was no different. Before she could come up with a non-answer, or a simple "I'm okay," her face scrunched together, tears threatening to fall. She quickly turned away from Swansea, pressing her hands to her face.
"I'm sorry." She managed to utter before a sob. "It's a lot right now." Her words muddled together, pouring out of the corners of her mouth. Swansea kept quiet, his gaze slowly migrating ahead.
"No kidding." He mumbled. "Care to tell me about it?"
A sad, exhaled chuckle escaped her lips as she rubbed her eyes. "You already know everything."
"You'd think that, wouldn't you? Daisuke has loose lips, for sure, but I haven't heard it straight from the horse's mouth."
She was reluctant. Saddling Swansea with all this felt unfair. Maybe he felt obligated to listen to her problems but didn't actually care. How pathetic is it to vent to someone who doesn't want to listen to you in the first place?
"Hey, you're doing a whole lot of thinking and not a whole lot of talking. You think I can't handle it?"
She'd spaced out again.
"N-No, that's not it. It's that… I just… I don't want to be a bother."
"Listen, if you think this is my first rodeo, you've seen nothing yet. My three kids all had a rebellious phase, and my wife went through postpartum depression. I've done my share of listening, so lay it on me." He sounded offended, his arms folded and his gaze piercing through her ghostly presence.
She sighed, resting her hands on her thighs.
"How much has Daisuke told you?" She asked.
"How much have you told him?"
"…Fair point."
Notes:
Hello, Yafa here! Just quickly here to thank you, yes you who is reading this, for reading my fic! More to come and I'm happy so many of you have stuck around <3
Chapter Text
"Catch!"
As Curly turned around, he saw a foreign object rapidly fly his way. With unsure hands, he managed to catch it, his reflexes slower than anticipated. Jimmy, who had underhandedly thrown the item, now sat beside him in the co-pilot's chair, his legs kicked up on the deck.
"I found some candy bars." The troublemaker grinned, wiggling one of the unlabeled Pony Express bars between his fingers. When Curly looked down at what he caught, it was indeed a candy bar. "Thought Daisuke would've devoured them by now, but no. I found a box in the back of the storage unit." He added, which made Curly flip the package to find an expiration label. There was none, of course. The company didn't feel the need to adhere to the food regulation laws. Let's be honest: who was going to tell on them? Their underpaid employees, whose only sugar source during the haul was unlabeled candy bars?
They could pinch a few pennies right there.
"Are they any good?" Curly asked, looking up at Jimmy, who was tearing one open.
"I think they taste fine."
"…That's not what I meant."
"Really?" Jimmy asked, taking a bite from the bar.
"Never mind." Curly shook his head, smiling softly.
Just as the words left his mouth, everything around him went dark. The green glow of the command deck disappeared too, leaving the two men in complete darkness. The omnipresent metal groaning and rattling, which came to feel like white noise to the crew, had also gone silent. This meant that the engine, the power, and everything else that needed constant electricity was cut off.
This wasn't good. Curly felt his blood run cold, his ears ringing at an impossibly high frequency. No electricity meant no power, no power meant no control over the ship, which meant the Tulpar was floating freely in space.
"Jimmy, did you hit one of the buttons?" Curly asked, panic apparent in his voice.
"Hey, I did nothing!" Jimmy almost yelled back.
And just as quickly as everything went dark, the room lit back up again. The ventilation system kicked back in, slowly accelerating its fans. Jimmy's unnerved expression became visible as every individual bulb on the command deck flickered a couple of times. The command deck's main screen displayed a rebooting message, a pre-recorded voice blaring through the speaker, accompanied by flaring sirens.
"SYSTEM REBOOTING. PLEASE REMAIN CALM AND SEATED. ADVISE CREW TO TAKE EMERGENCY POSITIONS UNTIL PROCESS IS COMPLETED."
This procedure had been drilled into Curly since the beginning of his training. His hand moved to the emergency intercom, and he announced the crew should take their positions until further notice. Jimmy watched as the captain proceeded to confirm his follow-up measures by inputting a few codes into the command deck. The compass, sonar, and other radars reset themselves as Curly, almost instinctively, turned his attention toward Jimmy.
"I didn't do it." Jimmy asserted again as if being accused by the worried look.
"… Are you sure you didn't accidentally press-"
"No way! I know damn well nothing on my side of the deck could've caused a total shutdown!" He defended, his eyes scanning the deck. "And you should know that too!"
"I know, but—"
"You're the captain! You should know better than me!"
"Jim, I know. I was just wondering if you had any idea-"
"Why are you blaming me?"
This again.
Curly couldn't string together a thought without Jimmy interrupting him.
"I'm not blaming you! I just need to know why the power went out." Curly said, his voice firmer.
"Well, dead end, captain! It wasn't me." Jimmy huffed, crossing his arms and turning away from him, showing Curly the back of the co-pilot chair.
"Okay, then help me find out what caused it." Curly offered.
He did not get a response.
This made the captain want to roll his eyes so far back into his skull that they'd get stuck and he wouldn't have to deal with this kind of stuff anymore. What kind of childish, immature, disrespectful behavior was this? Jimmy literally ended the argument by turning his back to Curly and pretending he didn't exist.
Awesome, great. He loved their dynamic.
With a sigh, he scratched the back of his head, his eyes on the command deck. The screen displayed a progress bar. The reset would take a couple of minutes, meaning he was stuck until further notice. When Curly looked over at Jimmy, he was still turned around.
"… I apologize." The captain slowly said. "I panicked and started spouting nonsense. I'm not blaming you; I know you didn't do anything." He sounded absent while saying it. Apologies like this had passed by his lips tens... no, hundreds of times. Assuring words of affirmation and self-deprecation.
Even after this, he still didn't get a response from him.
Taking the hint, he decided to shut up. They passed the next minutes in uncomfortable silence as the display slowly filled up its progress bar. When it did, all the little screens lit up, displaying their own unique function in aiding the vessel's navigation. The captain let his crew know that the emergency was over and everyone could resume their usual tasks. As soon as his finger left the intercom button, his mind was on Jimmy again.
At first, he apologized to appease him, but that didn't do anything. All he wanted was for him to stop giving him the silent treatment. It felt unfair and yet, at the same time, deserved. Curly deserves to get treated this way for wanting to appease Jimmy. To be in his presence.
A defeated feeling, so intense, overwhelmed him as he stood up, walking around the co-pilot chair so he was in front of Jimmy. He looked distant, not mentally present, his gaze on the floor. Knowing there was absolutely no chance his friend would ever look up at him, Curly crouched down between Jimmy's legs to look up at him instead.
Almost instantaneously, Curly had his attention. His gaze turned from an absentminded one to a cautious one, unsure of what the captain was plotting.
"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." Curly affirmed once again.
"…Uh-huh." Is all Jimmy managed to utter after gazing into his captain's piercing blue eyes. "Sure seemed like it."
"Come on." Curly exhaled a chuckle, reaching for Jimmy's hands that were folded on his lap. They were knotted into each other, clenching harder when Curly grazed them with his touch. "You know me better than that, by now."
"I do?" He asked very open-endedly, which made Curly unsure if he was joking or not.
"Jim, I know you're trying your best, always." He said, covering Jimmy's hands with his own.
Their hands rested like that for a moment, Curly's words floating around in Jimmy's head for longer than he intended them to. This made Jimmy slowly untangle his right hand from his left, navigating it over to the top of Curly's head. He thought about retracting his hand for a fraction of a second before gently lowering a few fingers and letting them go through the golden locks. He displaced a few strands before letting the rest of his hand lightly caress his captain's scalp. His fingers coiled around the wavy hair, making Curly's eyelids flicker ever so slightly.
"Trying, huh?" Jimmy mumbled. His hands felt so cold in comparison to Curly's warmth. Their eyes remained locked on each other, making Jimmy's ears sizzle. "If you say so." He retracted his hand, seemingly caught off-guard by his own impulsive behavior. "Shouldn't we be investigating the power outage?" He asked, tapping his knee against Curly's shoulder. The captain's gaze rested on Jimmy for a second before he pulled himself up and away from Jimmy.
"Um, yeah. Yeah, we should ask around."
Chapter Text
"What was that all about?!"
Daisuke's question fell on deaf ears as the captain passed by him. Jimmy, on the other hand, stood beside the intern, watching Curly head toward the other two crew members. Anya and Swansea remained near the kitchen, seemingly having their conversation interrupted by the captain's arrival. Apparently, the crew decided to stick together instead of heading back to their stations as instructed.
"Swansea, any idea what just happened?" Curly asked. The mechanic, in response, briefly looked at the nurse, who seemed to be completely spaced out. Or at least acting like she was spaced out.
"Not a clue." He replied, taking a step forward to prevent Curly from entering the kitchen. "Could've been anything."
"Anything?" Curly repeated, sounding a bit annoyed.
"Loose wire, power surge, bad luck."
"Isn't it your job to keep the vessel running without any major issues? How could it have been anything?"
"You're right. I guess things slip through the cracks sometimes, right?" His tone was blunt, as if he were talking about the weather or any other insignificant fact of life. He looked past Curly, his gaze falling on Jimmy. Just as the ex-pilot started to notice, Swansea's gaze fell back on the captain.
"…So I'm assuming you haven't checked the reactor yet." Curly concluded, choosing to avoid conflict for now.
"I was just about to, but then I realized I can't reach the reactor without your scanner." Swansea responded.
"Right, it's under lock." Curly mumbled under his breath. "I'll go get it and meet you at the back."
"Whatever you say, cap."
And so the two split, one heading for the cockpit, the other making a deviation to get his utility belt.
"You need some help?" Jimmy asked Curly as he passed by him.
"No, stay put." Curly briskly answered, not stopping.
"I can hold the flashlight or something—"
"Stay put."
The dismissal hit him harder than he anticipated, especially considering it wasn't an irregular occurrence. He was used to Curly turning him down by now. Why was he feeling like this then?
He awkwardly put his hand up.
"Call me if you need me—and he's gone. Okay." He lowered his hand to the back of his neck, trying to pretend like he never raised it in the first place. "Crazy afternoon, huh?" Jimmy asked, pointing his finger at Daisuke instead.
"I thought we were going to die." The intern smiled, albeit a bit nervously. "I was thinking: Oh no, Jimmy is in the cockpit! I hope he didn't pull a sequel on us."
"Would be crazy." Jimmy stiffly smiled.
"But realistic."
"Uh—"
"Crash site two, electric boogaloo."
"Okay, okay, I get it." Jimmy hissed, shooting him a glare. "Let's wait for the nerds to check the reactor, alright?" Clearly, talking to Daisuke wasn't as funny as he thought it would be. In fact, he didn't even know what he was standing around for.
Exactly two seconds after that thought crossed his mind, he sauntered toward the couch. On his way, he almost tripped over one of his dirty shirts that had been carelessly tossed around. Maybe he was the one who did it, or maybe someone else kicked it away from its original location. Either way, Jimmy didn't bother picking it up. Instead, he used his energy to shove aside a pile of dirty dishes resting on the coffee table so he could prop up his feet.
Anya watched him from the kitchen. The way he was running out of space, yet refusing to clean despite being incredibly capable of it, made her consider if he was on strike. Maybe he was just trying to prove his ridiculous point. Namely that the captain would never, ever, comment on his disgusting behavior. Surely this wasn't any more convenient, or even comfortable, than if he just… cleaned up after himself? It was never this bad before. Even his room never got this messy when he still used it.
"You good?"
Daisuke sat down on the countertop, slightly bending down so he could put his elbows on his knees. At first she was surprised he didn't go to Jimmy to talk about… Whatever it is they talk about. The intern was very open about his weird fondness of Jimmy. Now that she thought about it, it felt less like a fondness and more like pity.
"Yeah, I just didn't expect it. I feel better now." She assured with a shrug. "You?"
"Oh, yeah, yeah. I thought for a brief second that Jimmy was crashing the ship again."
"Slander." Jimmy barked from the couch, not bothering to turn around.
"So yeah, I'm a bit anxious to find out what caused it." Daisuke answered honestly, his gaze going from Jimmy back to Anya. "It's scary not knowing."
That sentence lingered in her mind, her gaze on the floor. "I guess."
"The reactor short-circuited."
The two looked up, watching as Swansea marched in, Curly following in tow. "Here's the kicker." The mechanic spat his chagrin at no one in particular. "The incredibly smart people over at Pony Express installed a few new bibs and bobs, saying it would improve quality of life. Turns out: not only do the new air purifiers not work, they drain power when they don't need to. The power generator overloaded, obviously, and we're now running on the backup."
Swansea said a whole lot, most of which didn't seem evident to Anya in the least.
"Erm…" She mumbled, trying to avoid Curly's gaze. "What does that mean?"
"It means I have to reset the reactor, and we hope this doesn't happen again." Swansea clarified. "And I'm cutting power to the air purifiers." After that announcement, he turned to Daisuke. "Get up; I need a second pair of hands."
As the mechanic turned around, he almost forgot Curly was standing behind him. The captain awkwardly got out of his way, letting Daisuke pass too. Taking advantage of this sudden exodus, Anya made her way out of the kitchen as well, avoiding any possible interaction with the remaining crew.
Curly watched her leave, briefly thinking of stopping her, but eventually just letting her go. He had hoped that apologizing to her would've made her feel better, but it obviously didn't. Things didn't feel like how they used to, even though in theory they were back to ground zero. Or at least, that's how it looked on paper.
"Told you it wasn't me." Jimmy called from the couch right as the distant sound of Anya shutting the door of the infirmary echoed through the halls.
"You can't blame people who are in panic." Curly pointed out, walking towards his friend.
"Did you pull that out of the beginner's manual?" Jimmy asked, back turned.
"You need a few one-liners now and then."
"It sounds stupid."
When Curly approached the living room nook, he suddenly saw how messy it had become. It was almost a one-to-one replica of Jimmy's apartment.
"So… Don't you think it's time to start sleeping in your own room again?" The captain asked, trying to approach Jimmy, but seeing he was standing on one of his misplaced pants. "This is a communal space."
"Nah." Jimmy simply replied with a yawn. "Getting locked up in a room for a couple of weeks makes you not want to go back in again."
"Fair enough." Curly softly agreed after a moment of silence. "How about mine?"
"Yours?"
The way Jimmy said this was not dismissive, nor did it express any reluctance. He sounded taken aback, surprised even.
"It's not like I'm sleeping there." Curly let out an exasperated chuckle.
"You're not sleeping, full stop." Jimmy corrected, matching the captain's smile.
"Maybe I could."
Curly's response felt incomplete; however, the way he looked at Jimmy filled in the rest of that sentence. If he so felt like it, the ex-pilot could interpret this as a very open invitation. One that he could accept or ignore altogether. Either would be fine.
Regardless, Jimmy felt something he hadn't had the pleasure of experiencing for a long, long time. He looked up at Curly, his overgrown brown hair slowly lowering on the couch.
"Maybe you could."
Chapter 41
Notes:
Hello! Just quickly here to say this chapter and last chapter was beta read by my very good friend/work wife AllTheseRedRoses. She's the one making sure you guys don't get hot garbage for dinner <3 You can check her out on AO3, for any Bones lovers, her fic Sweet as Sugar is topnotch. (I beta read it soooo)
Chapter Text
"Steer intentionally."
Daisuke felt like his arms would shake off his body at this rate. Both jittered frantically from his fingertips to his shoulders as he slowly tilted the wheel left. Having control over a ginormous vessel like this felt unimaginably absurd. He felt even more pressured knowing Curly was watching his every move. This was the first time he let Daisuke manually pilot the Tulpar. Inputting coordinates or monitoring autopilot is one thing, but this? This was a test of pure confidence.
"Keep at it." Curly encouraged, watching the display as intently as his pupil. In the meantime, Jimmy watched from the back, having no place to sit since Curly was sitting in the co-pilot chair. He was rummaging through the locker, trying to find something to keep himself entertained, a trinket, an old magazine, a funny picture, but nothing stuck out. When he was digging too loudly, clanking some stuff against the metal interior, he received a curt: "Quiet in the back." from the captain. Although irritated at first, he did close the locker to allow Daisuke some peace. The last thing Jimmy needed right now was to get blamed for Daisuke's terrible navigation.
The last few moments passed slowly, every millisecond individually ticking down. As soon as the trainee finished his maneuver, he stabilized the course, putting the ship on autopilot. His blood was still rushing through his hands, and he was deadly afraid to look at the captain for validation. A shock spread through his spine when Curly gave him a solid pat on the back. "Perfect."
A held-back chuckle escaped from Daisuke's quivering lips. He slowly let go of the command deck, still feeling the tremor in his hands. "Piece of cake!" He exclaimed, finally looking toward the captain.
"Wanna do it again?" Curly asked.
"Fuck no." Daisuke smiled, getting up from his seat. "I need to run a few laps around the ship. I'll be right back."
Curly watched with a proud smile as Daisuke exited the cockpit at a brisk pace. "I remember when I was like that." He laughed, looking at Jimmy, who was leaning against the locker.
"I don't." Jimmy said, raising an eyebrow. "You never looked like…" He pondered a bit, looking at the door. "Like a chihuahua."
"Well, no, but I felt like one."
That left Jimmy feeling more than stunned. This is the first time Curly admitted to feeling nervous about his job. The way he hid it away so carefully made him feel dumbfounded.
"How do you do it?"
"Hm? What do you mean?"
"…Nothing, nothing." Jimmy sighed, pushing himself off the locker to saunter over. "You gonna anchor soon?" He asked, looking up at the command deck.
"It's about time, isn't it?" Curly mumbled, moving to the piloting chair. "We should get some rest; it's been a long day."
"That's quite the understatement." Jimmy sighed, watching as Curly methodically and carefully put the vessel to a complete halt.
The power outage this morning caused more than just a spike in blood pressure. At its core, it revealed the distrust everyone felt toward each other. For a short duration, everyone believed the others were incapable of handling the crisis. Not very reassuring, that was certain.
Whatever the case may be, Curly anchored the ship right before patting Jimmy on the back. "Let's get going."
The two ran into Daisuke while heading toward the lounge. He was out of breath, sweat dripping down his forehead, making his fringe stick to his face. As Curly assured him of how well he did on his first practice run, Jimmy tuned out of the conversation. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He didn't see a reason to anymore. It always felt so awkward, unlike with Curly.
Silent moments never felt empty with Curly.
"No need to push yourself. Take it easy."
The captain's voice was soft and warm. It's a voice you could fall asleep to as it lulls you into a deep trance. It wouldn't matter what he was saying, as long as it was said to him. Whenever these thoughts crossed his mind, Jimmy couldn't help but frown to himself. This feeling of unconditionally needing someone… It was overwhelming.
"Welp. I'ma go get ready." Jimmy abruptly cut in between the conversation.
"Good night." Daisuke quickly said, flashing a toothy grin.
"Yeah." Jimmy faked a smile back before his eyes fell on Curly, waiting for him to say the same.
"See you in a bit." The captain politely said.
Daisuke's gaze immediately split between the two, his lips pursing deeper by the second.
"…'kay." Jimmy said right before storming off toward the lounge. He could hear Curly exchange a few more words with his intern, practically hearing the smile on his lips as he did so. After he entered the living room situation, he started searching through his pile of clothes, trying to find something that resembled a pajama. When he still slept in his room, he'd sleep in his underwear. Now he just fell asleep in the clothes he had on that day. Neither really seemed like an acceptable option if he were to share a bed with Curly.
Assuming that was still happening. They never really… Agreed clearly.
While restlessly searching for that one pair of sweatpants he knew for a fact was hiding in his pile of clothes, Curly silently entered the room. The lounge was lit by a faint blue light, just like every other night.
"Lost something?" He carefully asked, watching Jimmy toss around clean and not-so-clean clothes over his shoulder.
"No. Don't mind me." Jimmy grumbled, shoving aside one pile of clothes from the bigger pile of clothes.
"Don't need help?"
"I never need help."
"Okay." Curly smiled softly, finding the situation a bit ridiculous.
"By the way." Jimmy suddenly said, his hand reluctantly coming to a halt for a couple of seconds. "Don't… Go around saying stuff like that."
"Like what?"
"Like that."
"Okay, can we back up a bit?" Curly asked, approaching Jimmy and crouching down beside him. "What are you talking about?"
Jimmy exhaled long and hard through his nose, lifting a few shirts. "The 'See you in a bit'? They're gonna start thinking things."
"What kinds of things?" Curly looked at Jimmy's back, since he wouldn't turn around.
"Like that, like we're in some kind of… I don't know, they're gonna start making up stories about us." Jimmy was starting to sound frustrated, still looking through his pile.
"Hey, as far as I'm concerned, the crew already saw us sleep on the couch together. What's the harm?"
"Yeah, but they don't need to know that it's something I- we liked and that we keep doing it."
"So you don't want to sleep together tonight?"
That made Jimmy turn his head with a dramatically large movement, his finger half-pointed toward Curly.
"Don't say shit like that."
"Why not?"
"It sounds wrong."
"Doesn't sound that wrong to me." Curly shrugged, his eyes laser-focused on his friend. "So no sleeping together then?"
All the thoughts in Jimmy’s mind were getting jumbled up, his brain trying to filter which emotion to let out first. Right as he started ranking what was more important to him, his pride or his relationship with Curly, his gut intervened.
"Not if you're gonna be like that."
"You sure?" Curly asked, cocking an eyebrow.
Given the second chance, Jimmy decided to shut his mouth and keep searching for the stupid, motherfucking sweatpants that seemingly fell into a black hole or something. Seriously, he didn't own that many clothes! Where could it be?
Curly took the silence as confirmation and solemnly watched as Jimmy got increasingly angry at his pile of clothes.
Chapter 42
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Have you found it yet?"
Curly didn't get a response, well, not a verbal one anyway. Instead, he watched as Jimmy threw a shirt slightly more aggressively over his shoulder.
"How about you sort the clothes instead of going through the same three piles?"
"Can you stop talking?"
Curly was causing him a tremendous headache. Couldn't he do something else while Jimmy got his shit sorted out? Why did he insist on hovering over him like an attack helicopter? It was exhausting. "Just go away."
This used to happen all the time. Jimmy wouldn't properly communicate with Curly, Curly would try to appeal to Jimmy, Jimmy would push him away, and they'd both feel terrible at the end. Knowing it was useless to push him further, Curly migrated to the couch. He didn't bother moving the dirty socks lying about, instead strategically sitting around them.
It took Jimmy three more minutes to finally notice a familiar grey fabric. Feeling a sudden rush expand in his chest, he quickly reached for it, finding the long-sought-after sweatpants. A wave of relief washed over him as he turned to tell Curly. He was on the couch, arms and legs crossed, his gaze away from Jimmy. He didn't look pissed off, nor did his eyes hold any resentment. Instead, he just looked zoned out. There was a hint of something else; the way his eyebrows slightly tensed around his eyes gave that away.
Jimmy's lower lip tensed slightly, his stomach twisting in various directions. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Maybe he was too harsh on him? Sure, Curly felt the need to stick his nose into every little aspect of his life, but it wasn't out of… bad intentions or anything like that. The whole reason why Jimmy was trying so hard to find the stupid pants was because he wanted to be closer to him. Now he felt stupid, maybe even a bit angry. Either way, he needed to talk to Curly.
Just as he stood up, his knees still semi-bent, he felt the floor underneath him disappear. As he tried to stabilize himself, his left foot got trapped under one of the many shirts lying on the ground, making him trip. He fell, hitting the side of his head against the corner of the lounge table.
The whole ship shook. Curly, who also felt the shock, had a more stable position and only stumbled off the couch. He quickly got back up, feeling tremors echoing in the metal flooring. What was happening? It was as if he couldn't see or hear anything clearly. He took a few deep breaths, completely caught off guard by what had just happened.
The room went red, a siren blaring throughout the entire vessel. The pre-recorded alarm recording started saying something that Curly couldn't fully understand. He looked over at Jimmy, who was lying on his side, seemingly not responsive. Curly couldn't hear himself yelling at his friend, nor could he hear any response. With shaking legs, he crouched down beside him, shaking his shoulder gently. Now that he was closer, he could see a puddle of blood around Jimmy's head.
The last bit of sensorial input Curly had of his environment disappeared as he watched the puddle grow larger and larger, eventually reaching the sole of his boot. He was afraid to touch him, or rather, was so entranced that he couldn't. Now that Curly thought about it, this was the most peaceful Jimmy had ever looked.
When the blaring sirens suddenly got overpowered by a voice in the distance, Curly slowly seemed to wake up from the bubble he had created around the two of them. The voice got closer and closer until finally he felt an impact on the side of his shoulder, puncturing his bubble brutally.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"
Swansea clenched his fist, his face contorted in every direction. Behind him stood Daisuke, looking like a scared doe. "Do your fucking job right for once!" Swansea's words cut through his daze, his senses returning to him all at once. The red flashing lights spun, creating a near-strobing effect. The sirens were loud, the pre-recorded message screaming:
"-AGE TO HULL. DAMAGE TO HULL. REDIRECT COURSE. TAKE EMERGENCY POSITIONS. DAMAGE TO HULL. DAMAGE T-"
Curly's eyes returned to Jimmy's body before they landed on Swansea. "Get him to Anya as soon as possible."
"Who am I? His babysitter? We need to get to emergency-" Swansea began, but when Curly stood up, revealing the blood oozing from his head, his frown faltered.
The captain reluctantly made his way toward the hall. "I'll fix this." His eyes lingered on Jimmy before he sped off toward the cockpit. The sirens were much louder in the hall, and the lights were much brighter. Unbearably so. As Curly picked up the pace, he couldn't get the image of Jimmy’s lifeless body out of his head. Why did these things have to keep happening? Why couldn't they have a normal haul like all the other times? Why?
Once he reached the cockpit, inspecting the status report displayed on the big screen, he immediately saw what had happened. A small asteroid, the size of a soccer ball, hit the right hull of the vessel at an alarming speed, penetrating the metal. Luckily the emergency foam immediately plugged the hole, but because no one was in the cockpit during the incident, the alarms went off. Knowing this, Curly deemed it safe to immediately shut them down.
The silence was deafening.
Even though he understood what had happened, he couldn't understand how or why it happened. The Tulpar was specifically designed to detect, reroute, and avoid oncoming debris. Anything smaller than your average asteroid was always, always , averted. So then why did this one get through?
This could be solved later. He had a more serious issue to tend to.
_______________________________________________________________
"-I don't like him any more than you do, but you have to do a bit more than this."
Curly pushed the door of the infirmary open, where he luckily found the entire crew. They all looked up at the captain with varying facial expressions. Daisuke looked anxious, sitting in the corner of the room. Seeing as no one was talking anymore, Curly pressed further, closing the door behind him.
"Where is he?"
Anya looked at Curly, his voice softer than she was used to, not at all what she expected. Her head tilted to the curtain behind her, but she didn't elaborate. Swansea seemed frustrated, stepping aside so Curly could see what was behind the separator. He did so in silence, inspecting Jimmy's body for a couple of seconds before looking at Anya.
"You haven't stitched the wound yet?"
Although Jimmy's upper body was elevated, the bleeding stopped momentarily with some dressing; it was clear no other treatment had been performed. The wound was still open, and time was ticking away.
Anya stared at him with an empty look in her eyes. "Why should I?"
Curly's face remained unchanged, a certain tristesse etched on his expression, his hand resting on the side of the curtain.
"We don't have time for this." Swansea butted in, looking at the nurse. "You can't just let the guy bleed—"
"Anya, can I speak to you in private?"
Curly's words seemed to silence the oncoming appeal. Swansea was caught off-guard, exchanging glances with the just-as-confused Daisuke. Nothing good could come from this. The captain kept his eyes on Anya, gaze unwavering.
Her eyes wandered to Swansea, who seemed torn. "Fine," she said.
Hesitantly, Daisuke stood up from his chair, looking at his ex-mentor for guidance. The mechanic sighed, making his way out of the infirmary. As he passed Anya, he put a hand on her shoulder. "Yell if you need us. We won't be far." And with that, the two left, letting the other two discuss.
Notes:
Thank you again to my beta reader, AllTheseRedRoses, for reviewing this chapter!
Little behind the scenes: AllTheseRedRoses is the biggest Jimmy hater I know. Their comments on my Google Doc are hilarious.
Chapter 43
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was quiet in the infirmary; Jimmy's soft, irregular breathing was the only sound loud enough to pierce the tension. The other two people in the room were left to stare at each other. They weren't angry. No, anger is often dictated by surprise, which neither felt. What simmered behind their gaze was nothing less than pure frustration.
"Why?"
Curly's words cut through the silence, instilling a sense of urgency.
"You know why."
"I wish I did."
"I also wish you did."
The exchange was quick, leaving little room for idle contemplation. Both seemed strong in their resolve, sure that the other was in the wrong.
"So you want him dead, is that it?"
"No, I'm saying we could just … " She didn't finish her sentence. The implications hung thick in the air, making Curly feel like he was participating in something foul.
"Just what?"
When she wouldn't elaborate, a certain despair washed over him.
"Anya, we don't have time for this."
"Maybe I wasn't clear when I told you this, Curly, but Jimmy is … not a good person."
"So much so that you'd let him bleed?"
"Maybe."
Her response left Curly to pace the room, passing by Jimmy's unconscious body a couple of times. Every second that passed felt like a second wasted. He turned back to Anya, who seemed to get uneasy. His face was devoid of any warmth.
Anya felt compromised. She'd never experienced his outbursts before, aside from repeatedly overhearing him shouting at Jimmy. As much as Jimmy put up a front, he always shrank when the captain lost his patience. Who could blame him? Pony Express didn't hire Curly just because he was a good pilot. He's strong, bigger than everyone on the ship. You don't want to mess with someone like that.
That's when Curly approached her, a tremor in his voice.
"Don't do this."
The way he said it caught her off guard. It wasn't a demand, it wasn't a command, it was a plea. His voice was soft and fragile. As her mind started to wander, so did her gaze.
"Look, can't we just figure this out together?" He asked, a wavering smile trying to form on his lips. " … I know he's a bad person, okay?"
A feeling of disgust accumulated in her throat, making her want to vomit.
"No, you don't!" She yelled, taking a step forward. "You like to believe you know him, but you don't! You don't know that man."
"Anya — "
"You know who knows who does? Me. I do. Not because I wanted to, but because you forced me to. Even before everything, you abandoned us, and you saddled me with the monster you created. So yes, yes, I do think this is the best possible outcome for us all."
By the time she ended, she'd forced Curly a few steps back. Her breath was shaky, her eyes glassy. Everything she'd ever thought about Curly made its way out like a bullet train. And now he knew. Every time she assured him everything was okay … it was a cover-up. A lie in service of putting his mind at ease. There was nothing he could tell her. Nothing meaningful.
"Please."
His head hung low as he crouched down, getting on one knee.
"I'm the one at fault. Jimmy's behavior is my responsibility, and he is what you say he is, but I need you to know that he's trying." He looked up at her. "I know you think he isn't; I know it seems like he isn't progressing, but somewhere deep down he doesn't want to be this way either. He doesn't like who he is. He never has."
Anya started shaking her head lightly, her voice barely above a whisper.
" … I can't keep living like this."
Their eyes locked and wouldn't let go.
"Anya, please, don't do this."
_______________________________________________________________
A rhythmic beep pulsed through the room. Every so often the cadence of the space changed when Anya changed the instrument she was using. She'd put down the tweezers, reaching for the needle, leaning in closely as she methodically stitched the gaping wound on her patient's head.
Swansea sat at her desk, standing by in case of emergency. He'd also been called in to evict Curly. Something about Anya not being able to do her job properly if he was present. He left without a single complaint, waiting with Daisuke in the lounge.
When all was taken care of, Swansea begrudgingly called Curly back into the infirmary. While Anya washed her hands, Curly took a chair and sat next to his friend. It was like inviting a moth to flutter around a fire. You couldn't pry him away from Jimmy, who was still unconscious. His head was covered in bandages. His clothes were cut off his body with a pair of scissors, his attire now consisting of a hospital gown. Anya had haphazardly thrown a blanket over his body after the procedure, which Curly neatly tucked around him.
When Anya returned, now wearing a fresh set of clothes, Curly got up from his chair.
"I wanted to thank you." The words fell out of his mouth before he planned what to say next, creating a silence. Anya's eyes fell on her patient before they looked back up at Curly's.
"Yeah." She said before walking to her desk and grabbing a folder from the cabinet. As she pulled out a pen from its holder and quietly began writing some stuff down, Curly thought of what to say.
" … Why did you accept it?" He asked quietly, approaching her ever so slightly.
Anya kept writing.
"What do you mean?" She asked coldly, not looking up.
"When I thanked you for everything you did for the crew the other day, why did you accept it? Why didn't you tell me what you told me earlier?" His words were calm.
She didn't immediately respond, although her pen faltered ever so slightly.
"I don't know." Was her honest answer. "Because I don't accept your apology. Not even now." She looked at Jimmy. "I knew that I couldn't do it. I couldn't let him die, even if a part of me wanted him to." Only then did she look at Curly. "I guess I was too weak to tell you that." Then she returned to her writing.
In a way, Curly understood what Anya felt. Telling someone what you're really thinking takes a lot of guts and strength. It's easier to nod along and deal with the emotions later. How did he fail to notice that over and over and over? He looked back at Jimmy, his heart monitor beeping softly.
The sound of Anya unclicking her pen brought him back to reality. "I need some space. Call me if there's an emergency." She sighed, getting up from her seat. Curly said a soft "Okay." before she left the infirmary. Right as he was about to look at Jimmy again, his eyes fell on the open folder Anya left on the desk.
It had Jimmy's name on it.
He looked at the door, at his friend, and back at the folder. Going through medical documents wasn't a very ethical thing to do. Well, it wasn't a very legal thing either. Even so, the urge to skim through some of the documents seemed very appealing right about now. Maybe she kept his recent psych evaluations in there.
Curly managed to keep his mind off the folder for five more minutes before he caved and took the blue cardboard binder in his hands, reading through the documents one by one.
Notes:
New chapter! New stakes! Crazy! As always this chapter was beta read by AllTheseRedRoses AKA #1 Anya supporter
Chapter 44
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
First name, last name, date of birth—things Curly already knew—are neatly summed up at the top of Jimmy's main medical form. Blood type O+, no known allergies, and no emergency contacts except for his family doctor. The digits made Curly pause, suddenly remembering how Jimmy complained about this: being forced to have an emergency contact.
The evening the form had to be handed in, Jimmy visited his apartment. There was a lot of back and forth, a lot of monologuing about something or the other. Nothing reasonable enough to recall clearly. No, the only thing that Curly remembered was when Jimmy turned to him, medical form in hand, pen rolling between his index and middle finger.
"Can I put in your number?"
And that smile he had on his face when he asked it.
In the end, Anya didn't allow it because it had to be someone back on earth. So, in vain, Jimmy wrote the only other number he knew by heart.
It's funny.
This alignment of numbers that Curly didn't even recall until now held such an insignificant memory, yet it brought a smile to his face. Maybe he was just desperately trying to find a reason to smile.
He looked at his friend, who was seemingly resting peacefully. Curly adjusted his chair so he could rest his elbows on the bed, momentarily laying the papers on Jimmy's lap. In a weird sense, the present time didn't feel real—not as real as the past, which felt more tangible and comprehensible. The fact that Jimmy was so quiet and vulnerable felt like a mishap of the universe.
Curly read on, trying to distract himself from these frivolous thoughts.
After the main medical form, there were a few evaluations. The first was the one he conducted. It felt empty and lifeless. It'd be hard to believe they had a deep talk that evening based on this document alone. It didn't say a lot, aside from the co-captain feeling 'medial' at best. Although that wasn't even close to expressing what they'd talked about.
His childhood, his relationship with his parents, his fears, his… mental state.
None of it had been documented, although all of it had been discussed.
He discovered a few pages in Anya's handwriting as he pressed on. The dates indicated that these were written, mostly, post-isolation. One was written while Jimmy was still stuck in his room. These pages were like a logbook on Jimmy's mental health. Some words were underlined or circled, making them look more like summaries than official documents. The further along he went, the less amount of text was written. The remainder of the paper was then filled with her doodles: flowers, birds, fish, bunnies, cats, axolotls, bacteria, cubes, chickens, and so on.
Curly looked at what was written, starting from the very first page. A very different image of Jimmy unraveled before him. Or at least, an image Curly liked to think away.
Everything that happened became clear in painful detail. The apathy, the aggression, the breakdowns, the bargaining up until his full release. After that, he read about the venting, which was written down in much less detail. Even so, there was a lot of material nonetheless. A lot. Too much. Too much to handle.
Anya had been single-handedly piecing this man back together, just for him to fall apart again.
Jimmy never spoke of Anya. Not before the incident and not after. When he did, it was always with a mean grin and a sense of superiority and disdain. Now that he thought about it… Curly had to hear about Anya's accomplishments through Anya herself and not Jimmy.
Jimmy didn't care.
Curly knew all of this, but he didn't understand it until now. All the facts were seemingly strung together to form a full picture of this man. And it was an ugly one.
"Doing some light reading?"
Adrenaline shot through Curly's arm, making him fumble with the open folder, trying to close it. In the process, he ended up dropping the thing, scattering Jimmy's medical history all over the floor. One page slid over and landed right at Anya's feet. She silently looked at Curly, who frantically tried gathering the pages again while he tried to come up with an excuse:
"I—erm…they… I…ugh…" He stopped talking, resting on his knees, folder in hand. "Sorry."
Anya looked at the captain, his head bowed down as he collected the remaining papers. She bent down, picking up the lonely page at her feet, holding it out toward him.
"I'm assuming you read them then." She said softly, making him look up. He slowly took the paper she was holding and put it back inside the folder. He didn't know what to say to that. It felt like his mind was all over the place.
"Yeah…"
He handed her the folder as he got back up.
"I should go…" Curly said, not able to look at Anya for a moment. When he gathered the courage, he lifted his gaze. "Thank you again for… everything. I wouldn't know what to do without you, Anya." His voice seemingly made of the finest of porcelain.
Just as he started to leave, Anya opened her mouth:
"I left them there."
He stopped.
"I left them hoping you'd read them." She sighed, holding on tightly to the folder. "I know it's against the policy, I know I violated his privacy, but you… You need to know this. I was hoping that if you'd read it …You'd get it."
Neither faced the other, the space between them feeling uncertain. Then, without warning, Curly turned around, circling over to her.
"I realize now that-…When I thanked you for everything, I really meant it. I'm still grateful for everything you've done." He said, sounding a bit out of breath. "But that's not the only thing I should've said. I should've thanked you, and I should've apologized. You've been trying to keep him together all this time, and that's not your job. Jimmy is… not mentally well enough to be here. And even so, I kept him here. I should've sent him to rehab or made sure he got help or… something. Anya, I'm sorry you had to deal with him again and again."
He looked at his hands as he talked as if he could see his actions displayed on the surface of his palms. When he looked back up at her, she had a frown on her face. One that was forming around her glassy eyes.
"Captain." Her voice cracked. "You're such a dumb piece of work." She rubbed away a tear before it could fall. Curly's endlessly sad expression brightened a bit.
"I know."
Anya turned away, trying to hide her face from him.
"Do you need a hug?"
It came out of his mouth before he thought about it. It wouldn't have been the first time he offered her an embrace. She hesitated for a moment before nodding. Curly stepped forward, one arm over the shoulder, one arm below. She embraced him back, although a little weaker. When a few seconds passed, she tightened her grip, burying her nose into his shoulder. He smiled, patting her on the back lightly.
Now the real work could begin.
Notes:
As always, this chapter was beta-read by my lovely friend and beta reader AllTheseRedRoses <3
Chapter 45
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"… Jesus…"
Curly's mumbles disappeared into the room as he tossed the umpteenth load of socks in his linen bag. The lounge was looking a lot cleaner now. In reality, he got his work cut out. The fact that someone used the communal living room as a bedroom for a few months was extremely apparent.
Jimmy brought a ton of clothes aboard. Probably the most out of anybody. His reasoning being that he hated doing laundry. "So if I bring enough clothes to last me the year, I'll be okay." He told Curly as he shoved the doors of his locker closed, a sleeve poking out from between the metal door. Of course, it's impossible to actually bring that many clothes. And even if it was, Pony Express would never allow it.
In any case, he would've run out of clothes pretty soon.
Therefore, to make himself useful, and try to forget about the current situation, Curly decided to do some laundry. He'd toss in a load between his shifts, slowly decluttering the lounge as he did. He received a judgmental gaze from Swansea, and a worried look from Anya, but neither said anything about it. Daisuke was the only one who voiced his thoughts loud and clear:
"I can finally lay down again!" He cheered, jumping on the couch belly first.
Curly smiled a bit sheepishly, closing the linen bag. "Must be nice."
Daisuke rolled over onto his back. "Sometimes you just wanna slouch, ya know?"
Curly let out a hum of agreeance, heading toward the kitchen to empty his bag into the machine. It was an extremely inconvenient placement, but they couldn't really move it. It came preinstalled right under the sink. He crouched down, filling the appliance with the last load, pouring in the laundry detergent, and pushing the on button.
"We should head back after this." Curly pointed out, his knees popping as he got back up. "We need to stay on schedule."
He got a thumbs up in response, even though Daisuke showed no sign of getting back on his feet. Seeing no harm in letting him have five more minutes of rest, Curly gently folded the now empty bag. After this was done, he'd have to do a whole bunch of dishes. Luckily they also had a dishwasher aboard. Unluckily, some of the dishes were so dirty and had been left out for so long that they had to be washed by hand.
Fun break time activities all around.
"Hey, Anya!" Daisuke called from the couch. While Curly was drifting off in his mind palace, Anya had entered the lounge. "Look! The clothes are gone! I forgot how big the couch was. You know, without the mess."
"You're right. It looks a lot better." She smiled, her eyes wandering around the room before eventually falling on Curly.
Sensing a sudden shift in the room with her arrival, Curly put away the bag in the cabinet. When he walked up to her, his intuition was proven right. "Can I have a word with you?" She asked in a hushed tone.
_______________________________________________________________
"So what are you saying?"
Curly desperately hoped that if he asked Anya to repeat herself, different words would fall into his ears. He was hoping that he didn't understand what she had just said. That he was too ignorant of medical terms. Too presumptuous. Too stupid. She sighed, rotating her medical form so he could see the results.
"I'm just giving you a heads-up. We'll have to wait until he wakes up." She explained again as Curly's eyes scanned the paper carefully. "Best case scenario, he'll wake up with the worst headache of his life. Worst case… Well, he might not be able to recall everything correctly."
"What is everything?" His mouth was faster than his brain.
"It could just be stuff that happened on the day of the injury."
"…But it could also be more, is that what you're saying?" Curly's tone sounded a tad impatient, although he tried to calm himself down. It was beyond Anya's control. An apologetic look melted on her face.
"I don't know."
The rest of the afternoon passed slowly. Curly had to return to his duties as captain, steering the ship with Daisuke on his side, who was yapping about something or the other. Curly tried his best, his absolute best, to listen, but his mind was full of unresolved questions. By the time their shift ended, Curly had completely lost all sense of reality. He rubbed the tips of his fingers together, trying to remind himself he was alive, to ground himself. However, as soon as he stopped, he'd feel like he was outside his own body again. As if he were in a dream.
Somehow he must've left the cockpit and walked over to the lounge as he found himself taking out the freshly washed laundry. The warm and damp feeling stood in heavy contrast with the chilly temperature in the Tulpar. They had no dryer aboard, so Curly took his time to hang the shirts and socks on the compact drying rack stalled out next to the kitchen. A good investment on Anya's part.
Next, he turned on the faucet and let the sink fill with water. Then he collected some of the dirty dishes on the living room table- mugs, plates, cutlery, and so on. Some of them were molded and if there was one thing that Curly was incredibly disgusted by: it was mold. The mere sight made him gag. Knowing he'd have to scrub it off the plates was enough to make him want to crumple up and die. Without looking for longer than needed, he dropped them into the sink to soak with an incredible amount of dish soap.
Having a few minutes before he could wash the dishes, he left the soapy mixture of doom and he made his way to the infirmary. Anya wasn't in, of course. Everyone's shift would've ended by now. She must be somewhere else then. He looked behind the curtain, seeing, unsurprisingly, Jimmy resting peacefully- blissfully unaware of all the chaos happening around him. Curly grabbed a chair, sitting right next to him as per usual. Jimmy's head was still wrapped in bandages, covering his entire forehead. With a sigh he gently grabbed his hand, softly caressing his thumb.
For the first time in a while, he felt anger toward Jimmy. From what he could tell, the reason he fell was not only because the ship got shaken up a bit. It was because he tripped over his own damn laundry. Because of his sloppiness, his negligence, he put himself in danger and put an excessive amount of pressure on the crew. And now there was a chance that he wouldn't even remember.
His grip on Jimmy's hand tightened slightly as he stared at his friend's face.
None of this was right. Somehow the situation snowballed into the mess it is now. And for what? Why?
A sudden noise erupted, which Curly recognized to be a groan. As his eyes zapped through the room, he realized the noise was coming from Jimmy's slightly parted lips. When he looked even more carefully, he saw his eyelids twitching, slowly opening to reveal a brown set of eyes. They looked ahead, staring at the LED lights of the infirmary, slowly rolling over to his hand, before finally landing on Curly, who couldn’t understand what was happening. As his mind raced, gaze fixed on his friend, Jimmy slightly parted his lips and mumbled with a strained voice:
"… You…"
Notes:
AllTheseRedRoses had this to say after beta reading my chapter: "RIP Jambalaya, you would've loved Am I The Asshole Reddit Stories"
Chapter 46
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"… You…"
Jimmy's voice was hoarse and abnormally pitched. It sounded like the noise erupting from his throat was being squeezed out of his vocal cords. The next thing he said sounded even more strained.
"…Fucking… Let go…"
It was precisely then that Curly realized he had been digging his nails into Jimmy's hand this entire time. With a slight panic, he let go, revealing a perfectly visible print of his nails.
"S-Sorry." He muttered in disbelief. Somehow he didn't expect this. In reality, the chances of Jimmy waking up sooner rather than later were quite big. It's just that he wasn't prepared for it to happen right now.
"Idiot." Jimmy wheezed before letting out a cough that turned into a fit.
"I'll get Anya." Curly quickly announced before standing up, his eyes still on Jimmy, as if waiting for confirmation. When he realized, of course, that his friend was incapable of responding, he rushed out of the room.
_______________________________________________________________
"Slow down."
Jimmy cast aside his nurse's advice and kept drinking from the glass at the pace he deemed fit. It wasn't all that fast, but a bit too clumsy for comfort. As Anya huffed, she updated his medical documents, scratching away vigorously. He kept holding onto the empty glass when he was done, cupping it in his hands. Curly offered to take it, but Jimmy dismissed him with a slow "Leave it." He stared at the ceiling. They had killed the lights, making it as dark as possible. Bright lights or loud sounds might worsen his headache after all.
"So… what happened?" He asked.
There was a certain vulnerability in his tone, which was to be expected of a head injury patient.
"You fell." Anya plainly said, looking up from her clipboard. "You hit your head on the way down. I stitched you up, and you've been asleep until just now."
"… Oh…" There was a hint of surprise in his tone, as if he hadn't noticed he was lying in a hospital bed. He touched the side of his head lightly, his other hand gripping the glass.
"Don't," she advised, reaching out to guide Jimmy's hand away but deciding not to at the last minute.
As per usual, he didn't listen, lightly grazing the side of his head. He didn't feel anything. The tips of his fingers felt tingly, but that was about all he could sense.
"Seeing as you're awake and talking, I doubt you'll have any lasting complaints." She continued to explain, watching Jimmy grow more and more motionless. "I'll take you off your IV and prescribe you some painkillers."
She elaborated on what exactly all of this meant. The next few steps before Jimmy could go on with his life. Although he heard it all, he couldn't help but rack his brain instead. He felt pathetic. After everything he went through, this was the thing that knocked him out cold? He would've ripped the damn drip off his arm and stormed out if it weren't for the lightheadedness. This was beyond embarrassing. This was humiliating.
His train of thought was interrupted by Anya, who, quite carefully, held Jimmy's arm so she could remove the tube out of his arm. He looked past her and toward his friend, who had been staring at him from the moment he woke up. They made eye contact, which triggered something within Curly, who slightly narrowed his eyes.
Was it pity? Was it anger? Jimmy couldn't tell, but it made him slightly annoyed. Even so, he didn't look away. Even though he didn't feel alive right now, he'd rather die than be looked down upon.
"Shouldn't you be working?" His words came out weaker than he intended to. A lot more slurred too.
"… My shift's over." Curly responded.
"When's that ever stopped you?"
Jimmy winced as Anya pulled out the drip. She apologized under her breath.
"You should rest some more before you get up. And when you do, please don't push yourself. Take it easy." Her reluctance was audible, even to the extremely drowsy Jimmy. All he could do was sigh in agreement, which she took as a signal to pack up and leave him alone. After stowing away the equipment and discarding the unsterile leftovers, she bid her goodbyes before exiting the infirmary.
Curly stayed behind, sitting himself down on his usual chair beside Jimmy.
"You should rest." He repeated it in case that message got lost along the way or failed to get through Jimmy's thick skull.
"I don't want to." Jimmy responded plainly, his eyes on the ceiling once more. "I hate it." He added in a whisper.
"Do you want to rest somewhere else?"
It was silent for a moment before Jimmy finally said, in an incredibly hushed tone.
"Curly, can you leave me alone?" He slowly turned his head away from him.
"Are you not feeling well?" Curly tried.
"I… Can you just leave?" His tone became more aggressive, although he wouldn't turn his face toward Curly. Instead, he covered his eyes with his hand, pressing into his eye sockets.
"I just want to make sure you're alright, Jim-"
"Oh my fucking god! Leave! I don't want you in here!"
His voice cracked, making the rest of his sentence come out as a wail. This could not be happening right now. There was no way he was going to cry in front of Curly, out of all people. Again. Again. No.
Curly reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. Jimmy stayed quiet, knowing that if he spoke up again, he'd burst out in tears. He gritted his teeth instead, stifling a whimper.
"Please get some rest." Curly whispered, squeezing his shoulder lightly before getting up. Without saying another word, he left.
Once enough time had passed, Jimmy inhaled sharply, coughing out a sob. He didn't exactly know why he was crying. Everything felt like it was too much. The head injury, the sterile scent, Curly, the drip, the fucking bedsheets, everything. Everything was too much.
He hated being unable to laugh it off, get out of bed, and act as if nothing happened. It wouldn't be the first time he woke up in a hospital bed, unable to recall what got him there in the first place. Why was this time any different?
Maybe it was that someone was waiting for him when he woke up. The look in Curly's eyes was unbearable. So unbearable that he had blocked it out of his mind already. Now he could only remember how he felt when he saw it, and it made him feel unbearable. Redundant.
Why would anyone ever look at someone else like that?
Notes:
I was a little stuck while writing this chapter, and as I was brain blasting at Roses, they said: "just make him cry." And I took that to heart.
In any case, thanks to them yet again for beta reading <3
Chapter 47
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
A few calm days had passed on the Tulpar. Things carried on the only way they could: as per usual. The miserable yet beneficial reality was that the crew still had a job to do. Even if someone died right then and there, they were expected to be back on duty as soon as they were able to.
It was daytime when Jimmy entered the lounge, having slept in the infirmary despite everything. It wasn't so much that he fell asleep; rather, he passed out. When he woke up, it was morning. He stood up, dressing himself with the neatly folded clothes left behind for him. As soon as he entered the lounge, he noticed that his living situation had been decluttered. It was restored to its original setting as if Jimmy had never passed through in the first place. Come to think of it, the clothes he was wearing were his, but they smelled freshly washed. That begs the question: who did this? Then again, that was an incredibly stupid question, since there was only one sucker that would go through all of that trouble.
Getting the hint that everyone was screaming at him to move out of the lounge, Jimmy walked toward the sleeping quarters. Here, he stood in front of his room door for a while, not daring to open it. Every time he attempted to, his hand shook uncontrollably, making it hard for him to even grab the handle. He then stood in front of Curly's room for a second before heading back to the lounge.
He sat on the couch, his head starting to spin. The painkillers must be wearing off by now. He dug in his pocket, getting hold of a prescription bottle. He held it, rolling it in his hand, watching the pills flow over each other. How many did she say he could take per day? Six? Eight? His head hurt thinking about it. He popped open the cap, grabbing one, no, two pills, and swallowing them whole. He let out a grunt, feeling the oblong medicine go down his throat. If he had it in him, he would've grabbed some water.
But it hurt.
Everything hurt.
Feverishly, he entered a state of not being awake but not being asleep either. It felt like he was able to see through closed eyes. People passed by, some sighing audibly, others trying to talk to him. He didn't react. A couple of hours passed before he mustered up the strength to open his eyes fully. And when he 'awoke', the pain was there to greet him. However, this time, he felt like he could stay awake through it.
As he grabbed a water pouch from the kitchen to take another set of pills, he ran into Anya. Maybe 'running into' was the wrong word for it. As she passed by the lounge, he stopped her.
"Hey, is it normal that… I mean, I've had my share of headaches, but this is..." He didn't know what he wanted to hear from her.
"It's a concussion. You're going to have headaches. That's why I gave you the pills." She was blunt, almost lecturing him.
"Oh, yeah… Okay. I thought so." He shrugged off, softly clenching the water pouch.
The way he looked right now made Anya believe that when Jimmy fell, his audacity got knocked out of him. There was a sense of pettiness looming around him. There was not a bone in her body that wanted to pity him, and yet she started feeling sorry for him.
"It's about time for me to change your bandages." She commented, looking at his head wrap.
"Ah…" He touched the side of his head as if he just remembered he was injured. "Okay."
_______________________________________________________________
"Oh my fucking god, Anya! Oh my god, what did you do?!"
As Anya let out a deep sigh, Jimmy frantically touched the side of his head, feeling the noticeable lack of hair. Clearly, the painkillers had kicked in. While he started cursing, she kept herself busy by throwing away the old wrap around his head and grabbing a fresh role as a replacement.
"I had to stitch up your head. Your hair got in the way, so I cut it off." She explained calmly. Jimmy stared in disbelief, covering the bald patch on his head with the palm of his hand.
"But did you have to cut that much?"
"Would you have rather I let you bleed out while deciding what haircut to give you?" Her eyes narrowed.
"Just put the bandages back on! I don't want to be seen like this!"
"I didn't know you cared that much about your physical appearance." She prodded, applying a gauze pad with disinfectant to the wound. "Seeing as your hygiene is below average."
"Says who?"
"Says everyone on this ship." She pushed his hand against the pad as she wrapped gauze around his head.
Jimmy stayed silent as she secured the wrap, letting the information sink in. There was a lot more she wanted to say to him at that moment, but she decided to give it a rest. When she finished, he got up without saying another word, his hand seemingly superglued to his head.
Yet again, Anya felt an urge to say something reassuring. Before she could stop herself, she opened her mouth, but by the time she did, Jimmy practically rushed out, saving them both the embarrassment.
_______________________________________________________________
It had been a long day, even without the mental baggage Curly was dragging around. He caught a glimpse of Jimmy during his break, but he looked out of it. That's why he was incredibly surprised to see his friend walking up to him, at quite a rapid pace, and pushing him back into the cockpit.
"We need to talk." He said, passing by Daisuke, who was standing beside Curly.
"Erm." Curly walked backward, locking eyes with Daisuke. "You go on ahead." He waved him off.
"No problem, take your time." Daisuke shrugged, continuing to walk toward the exit.
After the two entered, Jimmy shut the door, making sure Daisuke was far enough to not eavesdrop on them.
"So, how are you?" Curly asked after an awkward silence.
"I need you to really think about the question you just asked me." Jimmy pointed out, pushing himself off the door.
"I mean, you seem to be doing a bit-"
"Yeah, cool, listen to me."
Jimmy stepped toward Curly, getting maybe a bit too up close and personal.
"I need you to do me a favor." He explained.
"Uhm, okay, but why-"
"But before I do, I need you to promise me something."
"Sure."
"Right." Jimmy took a deep breath. "Right, okay, so. Okay. You-… Okay, so. I need you to promise me to not react to what I'm about to tell you. I don't need your pity; I don't need you to laugh at me, either. Just… Don't do anything."
His eyes traveled all around the room as he massaged the back of his neck. This was a lot harder than he'd imagined.
"Okay." Curly's answer was simple. He just wanted to know what Jimmy was so worked up over. "No problem."
"I mean it. If I see one muscle move on your stupid face, I'll go deal with it myself." He put his finger in Curly's face, getting little to no reaction in return.
"Jimmy, I promise." He reassured once more, gently pushing away his hand with the back of his finger.
There was a beat of silence before Jimmy took a deep breath and tapped on the side of his head.
"I don't have hair here anymore."
Staying true to his word, Curly remained motionless, his piercing blue eyes fixated on Jimmy's brown ones.
"Anya cut it off so she could stitch up the wound. For the time being, this wrap is covering it, but I don't wanna walk around with bandages over my head until it all grows back." He explained.
"… So what are you asking?"
"I need you to shave off my hair. All of it."
Notes:
Chapter was beta read, as per usual, by
AllTheseRedRoses <3
Chapter 48
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Okay, wait, slow down." Curly stuck up his hand a little, averting his gaze. Somehow, even though what Jimmy said sounded logical, he couldn't help but feel he missed a few steps.
"You want me to cut your hair?"
"Well, 'want' is a big word…" Jimmy mumbled, his gaze on the floor. "I just need you to do it."
"I can't do that to you."
Both men seemed equally surprised to hear that thought out loud. Jimmy tilted his head in slight surprise, an unreadable grin flickering on his lips before his expression settled on pure irritation.
"What do you mean?"
"Listen, it can't be that bad. There's no need to be dramatic. How about we take a look at it together?"
The hand Curly wanted to put on Jimmy's shoulders was brushed away before it could land.
"I can't believe you." Jimmy turned around, face buried deep in his palms. He walked a couple of paces before turning back. "You know what? No. I actually can believe this, because you're a self-righteous fuckhead and I hate…" He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to hold back whatever he was about to say. "If it were you… If you were in my position, you wouldn't want to be like this either."
Curly's features were squeezed together in a hurt expression, which made Jimmy want to slam his head into the nearby locker.
"Why can't you just do this for me?!" Jimmy's hands cramped together. "I never ask for anything, yet you do it anyway! Why can't you do this one thing?!"
"Because you don't really want me to."
Not once did Jimmy think Curly's convenient personality would backfire so harshly. It made him want to grab a clump of that golden hair and rip it right off his scalp. See how he likes it. Dumb blonde, bimbo looking ass.
"You know what? Nevermind, forget it." Jimmy turned around, already racking his brain for alternative solutions. He'd need a hair clipper, which wouldn't be that hard to find considering there are four men aboard. Obviously, he couldn't borrow Curly's, but surely Swansea or Daisuke would lend him one. Maybe?
"Wait, let's talk about this!" Curly followed him through the hall, seemingly invisible in Jimmy's eyes. "Why rush this while you're still injured? Can't we just wait and see how you feel about it in a week or so?"
Jimmy turned sharply after exiting the hall, marching toward Utility. Curly persisted, keeping up the pace.
"There are so many other solutions to this problem. Why don't we just sit down on the couch with some water and talk about it?"
Jimmy stopped, making Curly bump into his shoulder.
"You keep talking about this 'we' figure." He said, slowly turning to face Curly. "Which is funny, because, last time I checked, I'm the only one with a problem."
"That's because I want to help you. It's easier if we work together like we always do-"
"There is no 'we'. There has never been a 'we'. It's just you trying to squeeze your way into my life like a parasite." That last part fell out of his mouth before he could think about it, yet he continued. "So leave me alone. I don't want to talk to you right now. I'll deal with this myself."
It felt like all his words up until now bounced off Curly like rubber bands, but not these. These held impact, resulting in an uncomfortably long silence. Curly seemed stiff, his thoughts racing, making his face wrinkle in subtle twisting movements. Eventually, he left, mumbling something that Jimmy couldn't quite catch, or more so fathom. It sounded like gibberish either way. After a while, he picked up the scraps of his consciousness and moved toward Utility.
_______________________________________________________________
Damn.
Anya sighed deeply. She had just cozied up in her bed, after fluffing up her pillows and bundling herself up in a fluffy blanket, and that's when she realized she had forgotten her book in the infirmary. How could this have happened? Usually, she goes through her routine, making sure everything is in order before she goes to bed. Today there was a bit of a disruption though. Jimmy didn't come to dinner and Curly looked absolutely dead inside while poking at his food.
Seeing all this made her wonder what happened, but eventually she decided that this was just not her problem.
Yet, even though she mentally put herself to that, she couldn't help but ponder about it afterward. Because of that, she wasn't really present while cleaning the infirmary. And that's why her book was still lying on her desk instead of on her nightstand.
She sighed again, lifting the blanket and leaving the comfort of her bed. After putting on her sandals, she shuffled through the halls, careful not to make a sound. She slowly opened the doors, softly closing them behind her. When she approached the infirmary, she noticed an oddity.
There was a strip of light coming from under the door. She could've sworn she switched off the light when she left. When she approached, she also heard a soft buzzing sound coming from within. She slowly slid the door open, peeking her head in.
It was Jimmy. She had her suspicions, of course. He was holding something, which she couldn't see clearly.
"What are you doing here?" Her tone was genuine.
Jimmy turned his head, seemingly snapping out of his daze. When he turned, she saw the buzzing clipper in his hand. His headwrap was off too. They looked at each other, Anya obviously waiting for an answer.
"I could ask you the same." He eventually said, turning back around, and switching off the machine.
"I'm here to get my book." She pointed toward her desk.
Jimmy followed her gaze, looking at the book for exactly one second before shrugging. "Cool." He fiddled with the clipper. "Cool…"
"So what are you doing?" Anya repeated, entering the infirmary and closing the door.
"…Okay, what does it look like I'm doing?" He spat, holding up the clipper, covering the side of his head with the other hand. "I'm here to buzz my hair off,because I'm not gonna wait around for it to grow back or whatever. I asked Curly to do it for me, but then I decided, you know what, if you want something to be done right, you have to do it yourself."
Anya looked at him. His arms were folded, gaze on the floor.
"…Do you want me to shave your hair?" She offered.
This got an immediate reaction out of him in the form of a laugh. "Oh, since when do you know how to cut hair?"
"So you don't want me to?"
There was a beat of silence before Jimmy let out a sigh. "You know what, sure, go ahead." He offered her the clipper. "Can't be worse than this."
After Anya slowly grabbed the machine, he started walking around. "Okay so… do you need me to, like, sit or are we just doing this while we stand? Also, do I wash my hair or do you just cut it dry?" Jimmy mumbled, grabbing a chair before looking up at Anya who was staring right at him.
"…Jimmy, why is this so important to you?"
This caught him off guard. He sighed deeply, holding onto the back of the chair, shoving it forward and backward.
"It's not." He quietly said. "It's just that… Well… It's stupid." He got quieter.
Anya looked at him before speaking in a soft tone. "Go sit down."
Jimmy slowly let go of the chair, doing as he was told. "… In the past, I didn't care about it at all. Then one day, Curly gave me a haircut, and you know, made me feel good about myself." The tone of his voice gave away that he was extremely close to breaking down. Anya listened closely, approaching him from behind.
"I'm going to start, okay?"
She didn't get a response, other than a short nod. And with that indication of consent, she switched the machine on. Jimmy stared ahead of him, trying to block out what was happening. At first, he felt Anya's extremely light touch on his scalp. Then he felt her grab a lock of hair and very slowly buzz off the strands.
And that's when it all felt too much.
A silent tear fell off his cheek onto his lap. He tried to ignore it. He tried to ignore everything. The hair falling off his shoulders made his skin crawl as Anya's hands softly grazed over his scalp.
This.
This was the lowest he'd felt ever.
Nothing could match this kind of feeling. It felt like the person he was, the person he built up his entire life, had fallen apart at the seams.
The buzzing stopped. At first Jimmy thought she had finished, but when he felt his head, most of his hair was still there.
"You can't keep doing this." Her words felt genuine, yet slightly condescending.
He bowed his head down, his hair fragmented on the floor. He wanted to come up with some kind of witty response, but he knew that was impossible right now. She continued.
"You keep trying to brute force your way through this. You're gonna kill yourself doing that. And I think the worst part of it all is that you wouldn't even care."
She turned on the machine again, her touch even more gentle than before, and continued to give him a buzz cut.
"I used to be like this too, you know. There's a reason I'm here instead of some kind of hospital."
With his thoughts being nothing but pure self-loathing, he opened his ears to hear her out.
"I used to be wreckless, careless. Mostly toward myself, but it affected other people: the people I loved the most."
Jimmy's head twitched slightly, hands clenched together, but he listened.
"Luckily those loved ones helped me, and now I feel a lot better. I'm not perfect, but I don't have to be."
Once again the buzzing had stopped. For some reason, he didn't think she'd finished, but when he heard her putting the machine away, he ran his fingers over his head. His hair was buzzed, but not completely gone. It hadn't been this short since he was a little kid.
"You have someone like that. Your only job is to accept the help. It'll hurt at first, but I promise you, you'll feel better."
He stayed silent, staring forward, his hand still resting on the back of his head. Expecting him to remain this dazed, she headed toward the door to get a broom from Utility. Just as she did, she felt a hand grab a hold of her arm. Not firmly, but not softly either. It felt very fragile in a way. She looked at Jimmy who wouldn't meet her gaze. He squeezed her arm, nodding his head slightly.
A small gesture he couldn't put in words.
Thank you.
She pressed her lips together, putting a hand over his. He let go shortly after, letting her go to grab the broom.
He remained alone in the infirmary, his head falling into his hands as he let out a long sigh.
Notes:
Couple of things I need to say!
- Huge ultra mega thanks to AllTheseRedRoses for beta reading AND providing me inspiration for Anya's monologue. They helped me a lot and I appreciate it a lot :D
- This chapter took a bit longer, for which I do apologize! It was not my intention :p I've been quite busy with school and stuff (currently working on an animation film I'm making together with Roses aka the beta reader of this fic) however, this shouldn't really get in the way of my writing this fic since I do enjoy taking a break and writing.
- Again, thank you so much for reading and loving this fic. It means a lot to me <3
Chapter 49
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
'Are they symmetrical? I mean, does it matter if they're not? I don't think it matters. Maybe.'
Reaching over the table, Jimmy adjusted the fork lying on Curly's usual spot with the lightest push of his pointer finger. It was now an equal distance away from the plate as the knife. He slowly sat back down on his chair, continuing to wait for the crew to wake up.
He set the breakfast table for everyone.
Not because he felt… Inclined to or whatever. He didn't need to do this. He just felt like it. Still, there is something incredibly relaxing about preparing something when no one is around. You can take your time picking out the plates that don't have a chip somewhere, finding matching cutlery out of the drawers, and making sure everyone's cup is turned the right way. Things like that. It's calming. It's exactly what he liked about cleaning before he went overboard and ruined it for everyone, but hey, that's life.
That's life.
His hands were folded on the table beside his own plate. He'd been sitting there for maybe 40 minutes? Something like that. Between lingering and watching the LED screen behind him, he'd regularly run his hand over his scalp, which he normally never did. It felt weird having his hair so short. However, he couldn't deny that not having long locks was quite refreshing. And Anya didn't do that bad of a job either. When he looked in the mirror, he didn't hate what he saw. He didn't like it either, but that's just how he was going to look for now.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of waiting, the lounge door slid open, and Daisuke stepped in. He was holding what seemed to be a notebook.
When he noticed Jimmy, he jumped a little. "You're up early."
Jimmy shrugged. "Yep."
After a bit of hesitance, Daisuke sat down at the table. It took him exactly two seconds to notice something was different.
"Yo, wait! Did you cut your hair?" He leaned in a bit, before backing up again. "It's so short now."
"I needed a change." Jimmy tried to sound nonchalant like it wasn't a decision he made in a panic. "Hair is easy to cut and it grows back eventually."
"I think you look good," Daisuke said in an actual nonchalant tone as he looked at the table, which he only then noticed was fully set. "Did we forget to clean up?" He mumbled, checking the plate for any residue of last night's dinner.
"No, I set it just now."
"You set it?"
"I set it."
"That's crazy. You doing okay after that injury?" Daisuke quickly laughed before Jimmy could shoot him an annoyed glare.
"I just felt like it." Jimmy stared at his plate.
"That's good, man. Kudos to you." Daisuke smiled gently at him before leaning in and elbowing his side. "Just don't go overboard like last time, or else Swansea will be—Hi, Anya!"
Daisuke waved at the nurse as she approached them, making Jimmy quickly avert his gaze.
"Good morning." She greeted with a smile before sitting down opposite Daisuke. "The table is set."
"It is!" Daisuke smiled, looking over at Jimmy who immediately regretted doing anything at all.
Anya and Daisuke began preparing their usual breakfast, which consisted of whole-wheat crackers, ultra-processed cheese in a plastic package, blueberry jam, and enough Earl Grey tea to wash it all down. By the time they were compiling their 'toasts', Swansea had woken up. He, unlike the other two, didn't acknowledge the set table, or Jimmy's presence as a whole. That didn't stop Daisuke from trying to talk his way through the tension.
"Doesn't his new cut kinda look like yours, Swansea?" Daisuke asked, tapping his fork against his ex-mentor's cup.
With a slow turn of his head, Swansea looked toward Jimmy, who was busy rotating his cup a dozen times. "I don't know about that." Swansea shrugged. "It did you good, though." He added after a moment, making Jimmy look up. "It looks a lot healthier now. Your hair, I mean."
"…Thanks." Jimmy softly said, his eyes shifting slightly before returning to his cup.
"Didn't know you felt like cutting your hair." Swansea continued, which caught him slightly off guard.
"No… It was just." Jimmy felt all eyes on him. "It was just a… I needed a change. Something spontaneous, you know?"
“Spontaneous. What are ya? A teenager?"
“...hah.”
"So you buzzed your hair off."
Jimmy looked at Anya for a split second. "That I did."
"Good thing you just cut your hair instead of bleaching it. You'd look horrible blonde." Swansea let out a roaring laughter. "Oh, it'd be such a sight."
Before Jimmy could defend himself, saying he'd look fine blonde and that he could pull it off if he wanted to (not that he wanted to, but IF he wanted to, he totally could), the final person slowly sat down in his seat. A few good mornings were mumbled as Swansea slowly recovered from his laughter.
"Good morning, Captain." Swansea slowly exhaled before biting into his cracker.
"Morning." Curly responded with a quick smile before slowly melting into a frown.
The banter continued, albeit a bit quieter than before. Jimmy watched as everyone unpacked, assembled, and ate the food. Some ate their crackers with either cheese or jam, while others combined the two (Daisuke). All the while, Jimmy kept rotating his cup.
"You still going to eat?"
Only his pupils moved over to meet Curly's.
"Uh… Yeah. Yeah, I was getting to it." Jimmy responded in a soft tone, scratching the back of his head and feeling his missing hair. It felt weird.
After he was done, Jimmy started stacking the dirty plates together, brushing the crumbs together on one plate with his knife. Seeing him do this, Curly collected the cups. "I'll give you a hand with that."
The rest all slowly trickled away, tending to their duties for the morning. While Jimmy loaded the dishwasher, Curly put the cups on the counter, his eyes lingering on him.
"It looks good." He said, handing him one of the cups. "The hair. It suits you."
Jimmy had to stop himself from making a smart comment like: "Yeah, with no thanks to you." Instead, he just nodded slightly, reaching for the cup. "Thanks."
"I mean it." Curly didn't immediately let go, making Jimmy look up. "It's nice."
"Yeah, and I said thanks." That one slipped out in a rather offensive tone. "… I mean…" He slowly got hold of the cup. The things Anya said came to mind as he looked at his own, distorted reflection in the cup. "It was… It was hard." Without saying another word, he filled the rest of the dishwasher.
Curly hesitated a bit as he watched him. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."
Jimmy was crouched down, his hand resting on the handle of the machine. "… You know." Jimmy sighed as he closed the machine. "You're always there for me. Always. And I think I never really thanked you for that." He slowly got up, his knees popping. "Maybe that's because I take you for granted, or whatever you want to call it. But you're always there, even when I don't want you there. It's smothering." He couldn't bear looking up at him right now. "I don't know what I'm trying to say, but the point is… I really needed you yesterday. I don't always need you, but I needed you yesterday."
He felt stupid. What was he even saying anymore? What was he actually asking Curly? To be left alone, but also not? This was stupid. This was a stupid idea. Communication is for pilots and wussies, and he was neither, so why was he even trying anymore? He took a deep breath. "Anyway, I'm also sorry about yesterday. I said some things, and I didn't mean them, so don't go breaking your head about that. It's not worth it."
"… I didn't know that's how you felt." Curly slowly said.
"Well, sometimes words just kind of slip out of my mouth, and I say stuff, but they don't correlate to what I'm thinking. Then I just… Roll with the punches, as you do-"
Curly shook his head. "No, I meant that you felt smothered."
"… Oh." Jimmy pinched his fingers. "Yeah."
"How long…" Curly leaned on the counter. "How long have you felt like this?"
"… How long have we been friends?"
Curly slowly turned his head toward the counter.
"Why'd you never tell me?"
"I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't really want to talk about pansy shit like that." He tried laughing, but when he saw Curly staring into the void, he quickly cut it out. "Sorry."
"No, I just… I feel a bit stupid now, that's all." Curly tried to smile. Something got stuck in his throat when he tried to elaborate, so he shut his mouth again.
This hurts.
"How about we uh… We talk about this after my shift?" Curly coughed out with a smile, folding his arms. "Can't be caught lazing around like this."
"…Yeah, okay." Jimmy clenched his hands together until they buzzed. "Have a nice day." He quickly said before Curly left.
"You too."
Notes:
Beta read by AllTheseRedRoses yet again, who had a lot to say about this chapter in particular. This is the most emotive I've seen them about any of my chapters. A lot of hate towards Jimmy, as per usual (and some toward Curly, but mostly because he's blonde, has blue eyes, handsome and British).
Some of the things that came out of this reading:
-"Jimmy? More like Baldy. Baldy's basics."
-"Jambaldaya"
-"Jimjailedjimjim"
-"Yafa? More like Jimafa"Aside from that, I do want thank you guys for your patience! It's a very busy time for me right now. Roses and I are working very hard on our movie. So thank you for waiting and I hope you'll be there for the next chapter :))
Chapter 50
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Hey, should that light be blinking?"
At first, Daisuke thought Curly didn't hear him. Which in itself was quite concerning, considering they were controlling a huge vehicle at rapid speeds. That, combined with the fact that Daisuke had never seen that light blink, made him slightly nervous.
"Hey, captain?... Captain?" Daisuke nervously smiled, a bit more anxiously this time.
"Hm?"
"Should that light be blinking?"
"The what? …Oh. No, it shouldn't." Curly pressed a button, and the light stopped blinking. After this, he resumed steering as per usual.
This, in an instant, gave Daisuke a surge of anger. He'd been so calm and understanding when Curly had off days, but this was next-level. How could the captain sit behind the wheel, knowing he was not 100% present? It was dangerous.
"Yo man, you good?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" Curly's tone was dismissively monotone.
"You seem distracted."
"I'm not."
"You seem like it, though."
"But I'm not."
"… Man, be so for real, cut the nonsense." Daisuke sounded ticked off for the first time in a while, which did not go unnoticed.
"Hey, don't give me attitude. Let's keep calm, yeah?" Curly warned.
"How am I supposed to stay calm when you're all over the place yourself?!"
Out of the corner of his eye, Curly looked at Daisuke. "You know what? Fine. Why don't you go take a breather?" He suggested, flicking on autopilot. "Then we can both calm down." The way he said it sounded like he was giving him a time-out.
"…Psh. Whatever, man." Daisuke mumbled, getting out of his chair with an aggressive motion. "Do whatever you want, but leave me out of your rom-com."
By the time Curly registered what Daisuke had said, and by the time he had turned around to yell at him for it, the intern had already slammed the door. A slow hiss got pushed through Curly's teeth, which then turned into a groan. His forehead fell into his hand as he turned back around. It was frustrating, all of it was frustrating, because he knew Daisuke had every right to freak out and yell at him. He felt off, distracted, as if he were not really in his own body anymore. As if he were not the one steering the vehicle. He thought he could push through it, but it all seemed unavoidable.
The cause of it all was painfully obvious, but then the question remained: How much more of this back and forth between him and Jimmy could he take?
_______________________________________________________________
The bottle of disinfectant that Anya had given Jimmy had a child lock on it. It seemed a bit stupid, but he had no idea how to unscrew the cap. Usually, you had to push and turn, but it did not seem to work this time. So, he had just been standing in the bathroom, headwrap off, twisting the cap as hard as he could, but it wouldn't budge.
Anya had offered to refresh the bandages for him, but he could not let her do it. Especially when his hair was not in the way anymore. Now, if only he could figure out how this stupid lock worked. He put his teeth on the cap, trying to twist it open that way. The only thing that did was make his molars hurt.
"…auwch…"
This was pathetic. There is no way they designed this stupid bottle with adults in mind.
As much as it sucked, he might have to go back to Anya to ask for help. No biggie. Normal people ask for help all the time. He just should not make a big deal out of it, ask for help, bada bing bada boom, cap off, and he can carry on. No big deal.
He flicked off the bathroom light and headed toward the infirmary. On his way there, slowly passing by the lounge so he could delay the inevitable, he saw Daisuke on the couch. He was throwing a tennis ball against the floor, making it bounce up high before he caught it again.
That’s weird. Usually, those two did not take a break before noon. Well, more specifically, they weren't allowed to by Pony Express. Same old, same old.
In any case, it wasn't any of his business. As he walked past the intern, he heard the tennis ball hitting the ceiling. Hard. Luckily, the steel was sturdy enough that it wouldn't bend or break, however, the power with which it was thrown was concerning.
He was reluctant to ask but felt that he was almost obligated to. "You good, little buddy?"
"I'm fine." The ball hit the ceiling again.
"Doing some light training?"
"…No…"
"Got something on your mind then?" By this point, Jimmy had already approached the couch.
Daisuke hesitated, silent words passing by his lips. "Did… When you and the captain used to fly together… Did you ever argue?"
Jimmy held the antiseptic bottle by its neck, letting it rest in the crook of his neck. "Pfft, it's better to ask if we ever had a haul where we didn't yell at each other at least once."
His answer didn't really surprise Daisuke, who kept his gaze on the floor.
Jimmy continued. "Curly's a good… Well, he's an excellent captain. So much so that he doesn't feel human; he acts more like an icon. That's all it is, though, an act." Somehow, he felt like he was explaining and figuring things out at the same time. "He's human. He has his off days, and so do I. So when both of us were having a difficult day, then… Well, it's not a good time."
"I'm glad you got through basic empathy 101." Daisuke grinned, rolling the tennis ball between his hands.
Slightly offended at this remark, Jimmy raised a brow, nervously looking away. "Well, yeah, anyway. I need to go talk to Anya, so, yeah, bye."
"Are you going to return the bottle?" Daisuke quickly asked.
There are two things Jimmy could say at this point. He could lie and hide the bottle under his clothes when he later had to pass by the lounge, or-
"No, I… Erm… I'm having some… I can't open the bottle."
"Oh, let me have a look at it." The way Daisuke said it felt like a soft breeze. No berating, no judgment, just a continuation of the conversation.
"Er- Sure. Knock yourself out." Jimmy handed the bottle over.
Daisuke took one look at the cap before screwing it loose and handing it back. "There you go."
"…Huh? What?"
"Yeah, you just have to rotate clockwise instead of counterclockwise."
If Jimmy's jaw wasn't hinged to his skull, it would've dropped on the floor by now. "…You're kidding me. How'd you know?"
"It says so on the cap."
Jimmy glanced at the white cap he was holding, seeing the faint arrows showing the rotation directions. "Ah."
"It happens to the best of us."
"I guess." He sighed deeply, closing the bottle again.
Even though this was a little embarrassing, the ambience of the room felt lighter. So much so that he wanted to ask Daisuke about something. "…Hey, I was meaning to ask. Why aren't you in the cockpit?"
"Oh. Yeah… Captain and I argued, and he told me to cool off… Or whatever." Daisuke seemed a little less cheerful.
"Why'd you argue?"
"Because." Daisuke leaned forward, suddenly a bit of fire in his voice. "He wasn't paying attention to what was happening! I pointed it out and he got all defensive and then told me to leave."
"…Hmm."
It wasn't that unusual for Curly to tell people to leave the cockpit. He had sent away Jimmy multiple times, but never during the middle of a workday. Curly's top priority was to keep things running smoothly, even if tensions were high. Something was obviously wrong.
And obviously, Jimmy knew why that was.
"You know what? I'll go check up on him." Jimmy suggested.
"… Do you think that's a good idea?"
"Yeah. Why not?"
"You don't seem like a good de-escalator."
"I'm not," Jimmy admitted, much to Daisuke's surprise. "But I do know him the best."
Notes:
Hellooo! It's me, Yafa.
School has been keeping me busy, but I found some spare time to write a little more!
This chapter was beta read by AllTheseRedRoses, as per usual, who is also in the trenches with me as we try to finish this movie.
Chapter 51
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The creaking of the cockpit's iron door somehow felt out of place. Maybe it's because Jimmy was nervous about what he'd find and in what state Curly would be. He took a couple of steps in, seeing one of Curly's elbows peek over the armrest of the high chair.
Jimmy stayed near the door momentarily, as if approaching too fast would scare Curly away. He didn't need to approach him to know that he was in a bad mood. When he told Daisuke he knew Curly the best, that might've been true, but in reality, he never really bothered learning what to do when Curly was upset. He didn't really have to, since Jimmy was the one getting upset most of the time. Still, all those years they spent together have to have accumulated into something, right?
"You sent Daisuke away." His voice was neutral, a simple observation.
Curly let out a breath, his hands audibly moving over his face. He waited for a second before humming in agreement.
Jimmy took the response as a green light to approach ever so slightly. "Not feeling well?"
"…It's not important." Curly sat upright.
"That's not… What I asked." Jimmy stopped a few steps behind the chair.
Curly's tone wasn't aggressive. Rather, it almost sounded resigned. "Well, that's the answer you're getting."
"…Could you turn and look at me?" Jimmy asked, a frown forming on his face. When he didn't get an answer, he took a step forward, making Curly turn his head away slightly.
So, maybe conversing wasn't the best idea for now. Instead, he stared at the back of Curly's head, his dirty brown curls longer than they've ever been.
Jimmy bit on the inside of his cheek. ' Be that way then .' Still, he didn't feel like giving up. Clearly, their conversation this morning had left an unintended impact. Maybe he shouldn't have said that thing about Curly smothering him. God, why'd he have to run his mouth like that, anyway? Couldn't he have just apologized, not mentioned the smothering, and let it all be?
Well, that's not exactly right. He knew it would've come up eventually. It was just a shame that it happened so soon after they made up again. Life is like that sometimes, he realized. Bad timing, poor planning, and a whole lot of hurt. However, his life had been like this for so long that he thought it was just the status quo. The way things would always be.
Bad timing, poor planning, a whole lot of hurt.
But did it have to be this way?
Jimmy stepped forward, a certain lightness in his step making him almost inaudible. By the time he reached the seat, his hand was already at eye level and slowly reaching forward. His fingers softly touched the back of Curly's neck, sending an immediate shiver down Curly's spine and ears. Jimmy's hands were cold and calloused, creating a barrier. As if it were impossible for him to truly feel things the way they are. The callous was like a protective layer, like a glove. Curly, on the other hand, felt warm and soft.
What might've once been an aggressive, outraged, or hurt interaction, now turned into a peaceful one.
The sudden and unexpected touch seemed to reactivate the emotions Curly tried to push away. He tried to withdraw into himself, but with just one simple gesture, it all came circling back. His eyes pricked, his nose itched, his throat clogged up, and his head fell into his hands.
Jimmy looked away, as if he hadn't already intruded on his space. He let his hand go down to the crook of his neck and back up to where his hair began, sometimes a bit further so his fingers could comb up the curls.
He didn't know if this was helping or if it did nothing at all. This was one of the only times he had physically comforted anybody. But because Curly didn't push him away or tell him to leave, he continued. He didn't know why or what he wanted to achieve by doing this, but maybe that was okay. He just wanted to be there for Curly. Even if he was the reason that he got upset.
In hindsight, maybe it was because Anya also did this to him when she was cutting his hair. Going through his hair, not saying anything in particular. It brought him some peace. He figured Curly would feel the same. Hopefully.
After a while of this, Jimmy let his hand slide off Curly's neck. "Listen… I know there is a lot we need to discuss. We can do that tonight… after your shift. I'll hear you out, we'll talk it out, okay? We'll fix this."
Aside from Curly's attempt not to make any involuntary noise, there was some silence. "Yeah…Okay." He eventually said, his voice extremely small.
"Okay." Jimmy echoed, his voice very quiet too. "I'll give you a minute before telling Daisuke he can come back, sound good?"
"…Yeah."
"Alright. See you tonight."
Curly hummed, rubbing his eyes again.
_______________________________________________________________
The tennis ball hit the ceiling before Daisuke caught it once again. As his arm reflexively charged up to throw it up again, he realized he didn't actually want to anymore. Typically, when he was upset, which he wasn't most of the time, it wouldn't last that long. He'd alternate between wanting to cry and getting irrationally angry about the situation until there wasn't a point to it anymore. He felt like he was causing a scene by being so emotional, even when there was no one around to witness it. So then he'd stay quiet until it all resolved itself, or the other person forgot about what had happened.
He held the fuzzy neon ball, letting his fingers trace the rubbery white lines. It made him think of the time he tried to play tennis, just to try it out with a friend. Daisuke wasn't all that good at it. His hand-eye coordination was quite poor, and he hit the ball too hard, catapulting it over the fences. His friend was heaps better at it than him, so he kept going for a while after Daisuke quit.
It was around that time when he realized that baseball was probably a better hobby for him than tennis. You have to know what your strengths are, after all.
"There." Daisuke felt a hand ruffle his curtain bangs from behind. "You can go do your job again."
When he split his hair again, so the ends weren't pricking in his eyeballs, he saw Jimmy with his arms crossed. He looked a lot more mellow than before. "You talked to captain?"
"Talk is a big word, but he'll be good to go in a couple of minutes."
"You didn't fight, did you?"
"What? No. What makes you say that?"
"… I don't know, motif?"
Jimmy's eyes rolled up, his lips bunching up on the left side of his face. "Yeah, well, I just comforted him… as a… friend."
"I see. You comforted him. Very explicitly as a friend."
"Yeah. Didn't hear me the first time? Maybe you should get your ears checked."
"These puppies," Daisuke said as he pointed to both his ears, "have supersonic hearing abilities, my friend."
"… Don't call them puppies."
"I can't help it, it's part of my swagger."
Jimmy shook his head slightly, his mouth opening to say something before closing with a huff. "Okay."
"So, I'll start making my way over to the cockpit," Daisuke grunted as he stood up. "You take care of this for me." He tossed the ball, which Jimmy barely managed to catch with his arms all crossed.
"Scared someone will steal it or something?" Jimmy asked, inspecting the ball slightly.
"No, I just think you could use it."
With that, Daisuke exited the room, leaving Jimmy to stand in the middle of the lounge.
"…What does that even mean?" He mumbled to himself, bouncing it on the floor one time. When he caught it, he had to admit.
It felt pretty good.
Notes:
Something something exams, papers, projects, something something.
I am frothing at the MOUTH to write new chapters, but what can you do :')Yet again, as always, thank you to AllTheseRedRoses for beta reading the chapter.
They wanted to strangle me and the characters the entire time. (with much love ofc)
Chapter 52
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The lounge was filled with conversation as everyone took part in cleaning the dinner table. Daisuke collected the dirty cutlery, Anya stacked the plates, and Jimmy collected the cups. As they loaded the dishwasher, Swansea took a wet rag and wiped the table with product. The only one staying seated was Curly, who quietly observed. Daisuke and Jimmy were talking about something, but he wasn't sure what. Maybe they spoke too softly, or he wasn't concentrating hard enough. Anya chuckled at what they had to say, so it must've been funny.
This sort of peacefulness that dominated the room was as calming as it was uncanny. They had never been able to get along this well before. Sure, there was an awkward silence sometimes, but the hostility was gone. It made him wonder what would happen after the haul, when everyone gets to go their own way. Would everyone lose contact with each other? Would that be for the better?
He looked at Jimmy. Now that his hair was short, his face seemed brighter, less sunken in. He still had some nervous tendencies; his eyes still twitched around the room when he was unsure of what he was saying, yet his voice remained even and unwavering. When he found something funny, he wouldn't immediately smile. He'd first raise his eyebrows slightly, before melting into a closed-mouthed grin. It looked a bit judgmental at times, making you think he was laughing at you and not with you, but no. That's just how he smiled.
It didn't take long for the two to make eye contact across the room. Curly, with his arms folded on the table, chin resting on the back of his hands, averted his gaze.
It only took a little longer for everyone to settle down on the couch, continuing their conversation over there. When Jimmy had finished cleaning, he walked up to Curly, putting a hand on the back of his chair. He leaned in slightly: "Where'd you wanna talk?"
Curly looked up, overly aware of how Jimmy was standing. "Er…Maybe just…" Somehow, in that moment, he forgot all the locations that the ship had to offer. He started rambling a little.
"How about we go to your room?" Jimmy intersected. "Cockpit might be more private, but you've been sitting there all day."
"Um, yeah sure," he agreed, not thinking about it too much.
Curly found it was extremely quiet in his room, which wasn't that unusual, considering that no one was there, but still. Everything was still lying exactly as he left it this morning, although it seemed a lot messier than he remembered.
As they entered, he quietly picked up a shirt that had landed on the floor and folded it in two. "Sorry. I didn't think anyone would come in here."
Jimmy looked around, seeing a room that was lived in, but not particularly filthy. "…What are you apologizing for exactly?"
Curly didn't answer, putting the shirt back in the metal locker. He tried to fill the silence by reorganizing the contents, pushing aside some stuff, and categorizing others. While he was busy doing that, Jimmy sat down on his bed, hands loosely clasped.
He watched Curly procrastinate for a little while longer, but when he realized that he had no intention to initiate the conversation, he tapped the tip of his shoe against his rubber heel. "Sit next to me."
"Give me a second." Curly relocated a few more items before shutting the locker. When he turned around, he saw Jimmy had scooted a bit, making room to sit beside him. When he did, the bed creaked slightly, the unusual weight of two people making the frame bend somewhat. They both sat on the edge, their thighs almost touching.
"How do you sleep in this thing?" Jimmy mumbled. "It's way too small for you."
Curly scratched his chin. "As I always have. I make it work."
This made Jimmy wonder why he hadn't noticed this before. They've had the same bed frame for years now.
"I should have-"
"About the other-"
A solemn smile spread across Curly's face as Jimmy started fidgeting with his fingers.
"You go first." Curly proposed.
"…About you smothering me… I just wanted to say I should've told you how I felt long ago." It was harder to say than he thought, but it somehow flowed out quite easily.
"Well, in hindsight, I should've known. It's not like you didn't make it obvious."
"But… I also just… Just because that's how I feel, it doesn't mean that I don't enjoy your company. I need you to know that."
Curly kept his smile, however sad it might've looked. "I believe you. It just makes me feel like an ass, you know?"
This immediately sparked something within Jimmy. "How come you feel like an ass? I'm the bad guy here. I could've told you to give me some space when I needed it, but I didn't!"
Curly almost felt like apologizing for what he was about to say. "... That doesn't help me right now."
The comment hit Jimmy like a brick. All this preaching wasn't having the desired effect. So they sat in silence once more. All this monologuing and excuses weren't going to help.
"Can I be honest?" Jimmy asked softly.
"Always."
He opened his mouth, a few attempts rolling out before he finally, decisively said: "I don't want to lose you."
"... Me neither."
"So where does that leave us?"
Curly took a deep breath. "...Something changed from what we used to be, and I don't know what that means for us." He looked at Jimmy, a fractured look in his eyes. "I realized that I cannot change the fact that you're not a good person."
That sentence hung in the air for a while, leaving Jimmy speechless. Everyone had been telling him this, every single person. They'd do it behind his back, or be aggressive toward him, or try to appease him in some way, but no one had ever said it like this: Condensed and to his face.
"It's you." Curly continued. "You are the one who needs to change who you are. I cannot do it for you. You need to have a desire to change. Not some temporary change like you did before, you need to fundamentally change. And if you can't do that, then I don't think we…" He lingered, realizing Jimmy's glassy eyes were on him, begging him not to finish that thought, to not speak it out into the world so easily.
Curly sifted through thoughts, trying to formulate the next one. All the while, he started scrunching his pants, his nails digging into the fabric, into his thighs. "This isn't easy for me."
"…I know…" He sounded lost.
"But I can't ignore what you're doing to people, and I can't protect you from it either."
"I know."
"I'm just doing… I think I'm doing what's best for you, for us, for everyone. I don't want anyone to-"
Jimmy softly put his hand over his, looking away. "Curly, I know."
His fingers slowly sought a way to get a firm grip on Curly's. "I already said I don't want to lose you. I don't know if I can become… a good person, I don't know if I have that in me. I don't think I was dealt those cards when I was born. After everything I've done, I find it hard to believe there's any… place for me left. But still, the way you and even the others here on this dumb ship… The way you guys let me into your conversations, your jokes, your comfortable silences, the way you allow me to have another chance, after everything I've done… It makes me want to be better. I want to be better."
Through the shakiness and desperation, there was a certain clarity in his voice. A certain sureness. In a way, this made it clear to Curly that even without him, Jimmy would crave the warmth he had only now noticed. And maybe that was good enough for him to start this long journey together. When he looked back at Jimmy, he saw that a few tears had managed to escape and slowly glided off his face.
Curly reached for the side of Jimmy's head, carefully placing his hand so as not to touch his wound, and with the side of his thumb wiped the remaining tears. Jimmy reflexively put his hand on Curly's, fully intending to remove it, but choosing not to. He let his hand linger as Curly cupped the other side of his face.
They sat like this for a while before Jimmy finally got over himself and wrapped his arms around Curly. He did it a bit too fast, catching Curly off guard, making them both fall over on the bed. Curly started laughing through his tears while Jimmy couldn't have cared less.
This was a new beginning for them.
Notes:
New chapter, new beginnings, new dynamics (that I, as a primarily angst writer, am going to have to figure out)
This chapter has been beta-read by AllTheseRedRoses, who is yet again wishing to brick me in the face for making her empathize with her least favorite character <3
Chapter 53
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"Not a chance. Buzz off."
Swansea's voice boomed this time around. He didn't have to raise his voice to try and intimidate the vermin that crawled into his workroom.
"Consider it."
Yet the vermin, the beloved Jimmy, didn't seem too aware of this certain boom.
Swansea lowered the motherboard he was tinkering with to give the invader of his workroom an irritated look. If he really wanted someone to bother him while he was doing some menial work, he would've called Daisuke over to play some cards instead.
"Listen to my reasoning just this once, alright?" Jimmy pulled himself a chair and parked himself across from Swansea. "You have an open slot and I'm without a job. We can help each other out here! Don't you need someone to uh- to polish your tools or bring you some coffee?" He was hunched over, tapping his fingertips together anxiously.
"I don't have an open slot." Swansea began, to which Jimmy started opening his yapper again. Swansea quickly intervened. "I never had an open slot. Daisuke became my intern because he got dropped here. Now that he's co-pilot, I'm doing what I've been doing for ages. And I'm doing it a l o n e. So, no, I won't take you as my intern. And for your information, we ran out of coffee millennia ago."
Jimmy crossed his legs, propping up his elbow on his knee so he could lean his chin on his palm. "I don't see the problem here."
Swansea groaned.
"I'll just do all the dirty work you don't want to do. What's the issue?" Jimmy asked.
"First of all: The last time I had someone do my dirty work, they got electrocuted. Don't know if you still remember that?" Swansea barked to which Jimmy's gaze fell on the floor. "Secondly: I don't want to work with you! Get it through your freshly shaven skull!"
"I'm not that bad to work with."
"… Really, man?"
The words almost rolled off Jimmy's tongue before he could stop them. But with the little self-restraint he had, he bit back on them. "… Okay, I may be a hazard." He mumbled.
"No, you are a hazard." Swansea corrected.
Jimmy's eyebrow went up for a slight moment, before continuing. "But that doesn't mean I can't assist you! I may not look like it, but I'm competent at what you do."
This was a surprise to Swansea who previously thought Jimmy had two left feet instead of hands.
"You wouldn't know the first thing about being a mechanic."
"I know a few things about being an electrician though."
Swansea leaned back in his chair, finally releasing his grasp on the motherboard. "Electrician, huh?" They stared at each other for a moment.
"… My father… He uh… It was his job, but he was also into repairing stuff around the house. I had to… help him… quite a lot" Jimmy got quieter, as if he were telling some kind of embarrassing secret. "Look, what I'm saying is that I know how to be an assistant. I have experience. I'll just help you when needed and stay out of your way the rest of the time."
Even though his little speech did seem to momentarily open up Swansea's mind, he didn't seem fully convinced yet. Jimmy saw his reluctance. He slowly put both of his feet back on the ground, clasping his hands, hanging them low. "Come on, man. I really need to have some kind of function on this ship. I'm going to rot away."
The Tulpar was well over halfway at this point. The journey wouldn't last that long anymore, and soon they could all return to their lives before any of this. Swansea was under no obligation to help this failure of a man, but at the same time, he wasn't the type of guy to watch someone slowly disintegrate into a pile of nothing.
And Jimmy was never going to take no for an answer.
"Fine."
Jimmy slowly blinked. "… As in, fine, rot away?"
"No, fine as in fine. I'll find something you can do." Swansea said as he grabbed some papers. He started scribbling as Jimmy blankly stared at him.
"… Or you can rot if you want to-"
"No, no. I'll help. I can help."
"Good." Swansea picked up the motherboard again. "Now go get me some water. I'll give you some real work after."
"You want that in a cup or in the pouch?"
"… What do you think?"
"…Cu…Pou…Hmm…Cou-"
"-In a cu-"
"-CUP. I knew that. Of course I knew that. I'm the best intern you'll ever have. I'll get that to you right now."
Jimmy disappeared quite quickly after that, leaving Swansea to think if this wasn't a good idea after all. At this point, the little bastard had fulfilled every function that he could possibly do on the Tulpar: pilot, cleaning staff, medic, general nuisance… It was only a matter of time until he'd come knocking on the mechanic's door.
News went around that Curly had a talk with him. A good talk. Not one of those talks that ended up going nowhere. Anya told him about it, and she'd heard it from Daisuke who was apparently being extremely nosy. When asked where his manners were, Daisuke answered with:
"The better question is, how could I not listen in, huh? How? Those two obviously have something going on, and I wanna know. Okay? Sue me for wanting to know the hot topics on this radically boring hunk of steel! GOD!"
In any case, Swansea couldn't care less about those two. All he wanted was peace and quiet until this was over. And if entertaining the most weirdly narcissistic guy with some maintenance work was going to give him that, he'd do it.
A plastic cup with the Pony Express logo got placed on his desk. "Your water."
Swansea looked up as Jimmy, who looked extremely happy about himself. Arms crossed, shit eating grin that made you wonder if he put anything else in the cup.
But that was just the expression he made when he was happy with what he'd accomplished. Even if that accomplishment was bringing his new boss a cup of water.
But Swansea didn't know all of that, so he didn't end up drinking anything as they discussed what Jimmy's new schedule would look like.
Notes:
Hello hello! It's been a while. A long while. Sometimes you go through life and then life happens, it's crazy.
In any case, welcome back, hello! Thank you for sticking around!This chapter was beta read by the lovely @AllTheseRedRoses, go take a look at their stuff! It's high quality, and I love their writing very much.
Okay! Until next time (which will be very soon) bye bye!!
Chapter Text
Jimmy paced around the utility room, making sure to not come too close to Swansea. Unlike Anya, Swansea didn't take too kindly to Jimmy across from him all day. Somehow him pacing around the room was less disruptive than him hovering above his desk.
Time passed rather slowly, at least according to Jimmy. There was regular maintenance about every other day, but today was one of those days where nothing was planned. Eventually Jimmy stopped pacing to look at a cryopod. It was the one closest to Swansea's desk, making the older man peek at Jimmy from the corner of his eye. Jimmy, unaware of the staring, looked at the capsule with a frown. It had a window that showed the rather claustrophobic interior. Seeing his reflection in it was weird, almost as if he were sitting inside. Yet somehow, he figured that if the capsules were to be used during this voyage, he probably wouldn't get to be in one.
"So like…What do you do all day?" Jimmy asked, rubbing dust from the window.
Swansea, who was already looking up from his magazine, kept glaring. "We wait and hope nothing breaks."
"… Cool. Cool, cool." Jimmy softly placed his hand on the window. "So what does that look like? The waiting?"
"You keep yourself busy."
"With what?"
"Pffft, I don't know? Read manuals? Look, I'm not here to entertain you. God." Swansea looked back down at his magazine. The pages were covered in coffee stain rings.
Jimmy looked back toward the window, a feeling of dread in his stomach. He closed his hand, slowly letting it slide off. "… I want to do something." He said, soft enough that Swansea shouldn't have heard it.
But he did.
His chair flew back. "Good God. Fine! Fine." He stood up all grumbly, making Jimmy tense up. "You wanna be productive, mister electrician?"
"Actually my dad was the electr-"
"Here."
Swansea shoved a desk lamp into Jimmy's hands. The lamp had been on Swansea's desk for ages, but it was never plugged in. "Fix it."
"… I don't know how-"
"Then figure out how." Swansea opened the metal storage closet behind him, pulling a couple books from the shelves. "You know the basics from being daddy's little helper. Now learn the intermediate stuff and make yourself useful. That's what you wanted, right?"
_______________________________________________________________
"Getting some bright ideas?"
The pun didn't go over Jimmy's head as he slowly looked up at that stupid, stupid smile.
"Hah… Not really. The opposite actually…" He mumbled as he looked back down.
Curly sat down beside him at the dinner table, looking at the mess of wires, the loose screws, the lightbulb and the manual. "New job's going well, I'm assuming?"
Jimmy sighed heavily as he poked at the socket. "If you mean by ‘well’, I get to fix a lamp he never uses, then yes."
"Why's it broken?" Curly asked, leaning against Jimmy to catch a glimpse at the inside of the lamp.
"Obviously it won't turn on. So your joke earlier kinda falls flat, doesn't it?" That came out a lot more aggressive than he wanted it to.
Curly's smile didn't fade, but the look in his eyes seemed a bit less chipper. Seeing this, Jimmy started prodding the socket a bit harder. "Don't… Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful to do work. I'll do anything at this point, but…" He sighed, putting aside the screwdriver. "I don't know. I'll just fix this lamp."
"Dumb question but… Did you try using this?" Curly said, his hand reaching toward the closed manual.
"Man, I really would if reading wasn't for nerds."
"Wha- Didn't you have to study to become co-pilot?"
"I learn by doing."
"Yeah but how did you pass the test then?"
"Good intuition."
Oh my god.
Curly took a breath in, as if he tried to drown all his looming judgement with copious amounts of air. As he did, he cracked open the manual, flipping to the index. Obviously there wasn't a section called "How to fix a broken lamp", but there were adjacent chapters.
"Do we know why it won't turn on?" He sighed, leaning his head against his fist.
"Pretty sure Swansea said something about the switch." Jimmy mumbled, following the white chord until he reached the little plastic case. He flicked it a couple times. Not to test if it worked, just because he felt like it. "But I don't know how to start fixing that."
"Switch…" Curly mumbled, going to the back of the book. After a while, he looked up. "You're going in the right direction." He started. "The socket needs to be removed and-"
"I'm so good." Jimmy shrugged with a smirk. "Didn't even need the book to tell me that."
A part of Curly wanted to give Jimmy a whack on the back of his head. Another part, couldn't help but find this endearing."… So do you need me to keep explaining or are you good?"
Jimmy's eyes flickered between the open lamp and Curly's piercing eyes. "I mean, it couldn't hurt for you to explain, seeing as you're quite good at it and all…"
"Okay. I read, you fix." Curly smiled, his eyes returning to the pages.
_______________________________________________________________
"Tadaaaah."
The lamp, aimed right at Swansea's face, turned on and burned a black hole in his vision. He didn't expect it to do anything at all, if he was being honest. He turned the lamp away, shielding his eyes with his other hand. "Ahhhgh…" He grumbled in a low tone.
"Good as new." Jimmy put the cap back on the lamp and gave it a pat like a salesman would on the hood of an old car. "Only took some elbow grease and two new bulbs, but it works!"
"… Two new bulbs?"
"One of them exploded."
"EXPLODED?!-"
"Not like BOOM exploded." Jimmy waved his hand to calm the old man, who felt like chucking a third bulb at his head. "More like… bzzzzzzzzpOOF exploded. It's all good. Look, it works." He flicked it on and off a couple times to illustrate his point.
Oh my god.
Swansea rubbed his forehead, slowly sitting back down from his half-upright position. As much as he didn't want to admit it, his new apprentice did manage to do what was asked of him. And now his old desk lamp worked again after years of collecting dust.
His eldest son had given it to him.
It was a cheap lamp he'd bought from some kind of thrift store. Vintage, like his old pops. It had a homey look to it, fake wooden base with a cloth cap, making it stand out against the metal hull of the Tulpar. The first thing he'd ever gotten from his son that wasn't a card. It made it kind of a pity that the dumb thing wouldn't even turn on when he tried to use it.
It was broken from the start.
"The switch works so good now!" Jimmy was flicking the lamp on and off in the background. "Before you had to kinda force it a bit, and the click wasn't as satisfying, but now…"
Click, click, click, click, click.
Swansea looked at the warm light the lamp emitted in this cold, cold room. "… Good job."
… click.
Jimmy, not wanting to look taken aback, but also not sure how to not look taken aback, looked taken aback. "Erm. Yeah. Yeah! See, I told you I could do it." He clicked one more time to turn it back on.
"You can call it a day. I'll see you later." Swansea said, moving the lamp to its original location.
"Sure, yeah, okay. See you." Jimmy skittered out of the room, his eyes getting wider and wider.
When left alone in the Utility room that suddenly didn't feel so cramped anymore, Swansea felt a certain calmness rush over him.
… Click, click.
Chapter 55
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
_________________________________________________________________
Journal entry #323
I've realized that it's been quiet in the medic bay these past few weeks. It's a change of pace, but certainly a welcome one. Life is going on like it used to.
I ate crackers with plum jam this morning and finally solved the crossword puzzle I've been stuck on for the past three days. An eight letter word for dilemma: Quandary. Surprisingly it was Jimmy who gave me the word. I didn't even think he knew how to spell the word orange. I told him this and he proceeded to info dump about some kind of mountain called Quandary Peak.
I now know everything there is to know about Quandary Peak. (Including the fact that it's not actually a mountain, and whenever I called it a mountain, Jimmy stared at me for 20 seconds without saying anything.)
_________________________________________________________________
Anya let her pen rest on the paper, making the ink seep into the page. By the time she lifted it, there was a dark puddle where there was supposed to be a period. Oddly enough, things being normal felt abnormal. It wasn't that she minded it or anything. It just felt like she was bracing for a storm that was never going to come.
By the time she drifted back to the physical world, she realized someone had taken a seat across from her desk. Obviously it couldn't have been anyone other than Jimmy. As her first reaction of disinterest washed over her, she suddenly noticed he'd been holding his hand by the wrist. It hung from his palm, the tips red like fire.
"…What did you-"
"Hammers, am I right?" Jimmy shrugged with a nervous smile.
"… Did you hit your hand?"
He looked at his hand as if he hadn't noticed it before. "If you think this is bad, you should see the hammer. It combusted upon contact." His fingers twitched slightly. "But Swansea kindly recommended I see you before it becomes worse."
The only way Anya could describe exactly what she was feeling right now was to compare herself to a mother who just found out her child ate an entire tub of glue. And also that the child believes they defeated the tub of glue by eating it.
"If Swansea sent you all the way here, it must be bad. Let's have a look." She walked around the desk and signaled Jimmy to sit on the examination chair. After a bit of prodding, she suspected his left ring finger had been fractured and would likely need a splint amongst other things. A quick X ray confirmed her diagnosis, and also showed her that it wasn't so bad that he needed surgery.
While she started treating the finger, she asked: "What were you even hammering?".
Jimmy stared ahead. "Tried to get the heating to work. Held onto the pipes as I gave it a couple whacks."
"And then you hit your finger?"
"No. It was going fine until Swansea said I shouldn't do it like that. I turned around, said that this is how I used to fix my heating at home, and the next whack I gave was on my finger."
"…That's such a you thing to do."
Jimmy's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Excuse me, doctor, since when was it okay to dunk on your patients?"
"It's not. You're just an exception." She put on the last piece of medical tape. "Does the heating work now?"
If Anya had known she'd bear witness to the smuggest smirk she's ever seen Jimmy pull, she wouldn't have asked. "Of course it does."
_________________________________________________________________
"What's that?"
"Work place injury. Pretty cool, huh?"
Curly plopped down on the couch beside Jimmy and leaned over to have a look. "Less cool, more concerning." He reached over to softly grab his hand, making a shiver race up Jimmy's spine.
"Yeah, you're right… Maybe Anya should've put some cool dragon stickers on the splint." Jimmy mumbled, retracting his hand almost immediately. "Or like… Motorcycles and explosions."
"Or dinos. I'd put some on my arm so we can match!"
"… Dinosaurs would be pretty rad." Jimmy looked at the splint, imagining a dino riding a motorcycle at the base. "But also really childish."
Whenever Jimmy frowned, his brow would lower ever so slightly. It wasn't that much different from his resting face, actually. He was used to having tense facial muscles that would relax whenever something mildly interesting happened.
"Childish…" Curly echoed with a bit more amusement in his voice. "You worry too much."
Jimmy looked away, his hands buried away as he crossed his arms. "I just don't wanna get beaten up because some guy sees me with a dino sticker on my splint."
Curly looked around for a split second. "… What guy?"
This rubbed him the wrong way. Jimmy shot up and hammered: "Obviously I don't mean here, Curly, I mean in the real world where there are real guys who would look at us and…" He stared at the giant sunset cast before him.
Recognizing how things could boil over in an instant, Curly asked as neutrally as he could: "Look at us and what?"
"And they'd think things about us that I don't want them to think."
"Why should you care what others think of us?"
It was silent, nothing much coming out of Jimmy except for a few deep breaths. And then he turned around and said this: "…You don't get to say that to me, Curly… No one ever thinks badly of you even if you were to-" Jimmy bit his tongue, lowering his pointed finger before it could fully be raised.
Calmly, Curly stood up from the couch: "What is it you want to say, Jimmy?"
"… Leave it." As Jimmy started walking away, Curly stopped him by the shoulder.
"I just want to understand you. I don't want to read between the lines anymore. You keep insinuating something bigger than just some stickers. There's a part of you that wants me to know, but I can't unless you're straightforward with it."
Jimmy pushed Curly's hand away. "Didn't I just ask you to leave it? What? You also want me to say please?"
"This is not gonna go away, Jim. You can delay it all you want; at some point you're just going to have to tell me."
"Why?"
"Because it's not just about you. You said it yourself, it's about us."
Moments like this reminded Jimmy of how prepared he felt to kill someone for a cigarette, a bottle of vodka, weed, fuck it, even needles with stuff in 'em that he didn't fully comprehend, anything. Anything to get these feelings to stop and evaporate. Now these feelings roamed free in his head, and every part of him was hysterically screaming for it to stop and this would manifest into punching, kicking, scratching.
But he couldn't do that either. So he stood there, staring at Curly who had that stupid look on his face.
That stupid, stupid…
By the time he'd full and well realized it, Jimmy had squeezed Curly's cheek between his good hand and pressed their lips together rather harshly. The force and the suddenness of it all made them stumble back a bit, Curly almost tripped over a bump in the carpet. He held onto Jimmy's arms, the kiss overwhelming him in ways he couldn't put to thoughts. Meanwhile Jimmy's head was buzzing with thoughts. One emotion cascading into another; Immediate regret and fear mixed in with an unhealthy dose of longing. Craving.
Curly's hands moved, searching a place to land as it traveled from Jimmy's lower back to his neck. The reality of the situation started sinking in. This could get out of hand really quick.
"Did any of you guys find a rogue pack of sweet-"
In absolute horror, Jimmy pushed Curly down on the ground, a desperate attempt to get him out of sight from Daisuke who had strolled into the lounge.
"-ner…"
And he did it barely too late.
What ensued was eye contact so intense, Daisuke was the one who started feeling uncomfortable. After what seemed like an eternity of prolonged laser eyes, Jimmy looked down at Curly who seemed more disoriented than a freshly born baby giraffe. Between finding this hot and annoying, Jimmy looked back up at Daisuke who was attempting to simply leave the scene of the crime. If it weren't for Jimmy's mess of a brain short circuiting every 2 seconds, he would've ran after the bastard.
But by the time that thought crossed his mind, Daisuke had fled.
So then it's back to Curly the baby giraffe.
"This is your fault."
Curly pushed himself up by the couch. "How's this my fault?!"
A beat of silence passed. "I don't know. I'll come back to you on that." And then, without any more words exchanged, Jimmy left the lounge.
Notes:
Chapter was proof-read by AllTheseRedRoses (here on AO3, check out her magnificent writings). I know it's been a while, not to worry, I'm always thinking of this fic :))
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