Work Text:
"This job sucks."
It wouldn't have been a day's work without Sigurd awkwardly complaining at the end of it, as they all got ready for the little sleep they could get. Nobody was enjoying the work they were doing, sure, but he was always going to make sure the rest of them knew that he especially disliked it. It was a sentiment met with silence at most times. Desmond certainly never entertained it.
"Okay. Why don't you just quit then?" Jess muttered, almost to herself.
Jess knew fully well why Sigurd wouldn't quit. It was a conversation these two had countless times before, and she certainly knew what he was going to say in response - though in the suffocating silence of deep space, perhaps she just wanted to have anything to talk about. He sat down in the lowest bunk, glaring at her from across the hunk of metal that was their living space.
"I'm not a coward. I can tough it out just fine. It just sucks."
Jess shrugged in response, and that was that. There was nothing more to say when all attempts to get him to see any other solution ended this way. Even when she had offered to quit with Sigurd, it was shut down. It was clear she had stopped really trying a long time ago.
Desmond was surprised she was even trying at all.
With a bit of effort, Jess climbed into the bunk above Sigurd's, him still glaring at her the whole time. Lucas was already laying in the 3rd bunk, sitting as still and silently as he could. Nothing about their conversations was something he wanted to be a part of.
And then there was Desmond, quietly watching the exchange, and the crew as a whole, from the front terminal. It was a habit he had gotten into since their contract started, probably even before then - he was used to being the one who made sure any arguments didn't boil up between his coworkers, the one that kept them together, kept the team from sinking. He had always thought, if he didn't do it, then who would?
He snapped out of it once he realized Jess and Sigurd were also watching him, waiting for him to turn the light off so they could at least try to sleep. He silently fumbled to turn off the lightswitch, then stumbled through the dark ship and onto the top layer of their cramped beds. Despite their rigidness and small size, exhaustion soon took over. It felt like the day behind him was fading into a fog as he lost consciousness, the dull glow of the front monitors being the last of his thoughts to slip away.
Desmond woke from a dreamless sleep to the sound of feverish typing. It was not an unusual sound for this time of night. Sure enough, when he leaned over the edge of the beds to see, there was Sigurd standing in front of the terminal, just barely illuminated by the monitors. Sometimes he was typing, sometimes smacking the keys, and sometimes sitting still with his hands on the keyboard, in complete silence except for his heavy breaths.
The earlier conversation compelled Desmond to ask something he never thought he'd even care to know.
"Why haven't you decided to quit?"
Sigurd slammed on the keys and whipped around to look at Desmond. His face was unreadable in the darkness, but was likely not happy. After a few seconds, he grumbled and turned back to the screen, angrily undoing his outburst.
"I already told Jess. Weren't you listening? I'm not a coward. I'm gonna finish this job." Sigurd retorted.
It was a word that he used a lot when talking about the others, Desmond noticed. Mumbling under his breath, directly complaining at them, or denying for himself.
"Nobody's calling you a coward."
"You don't have to say it to mean it." He shot back in response, still fixated on the screen.
"I don't think you're a coward."
Desmond started to get out of the bunk and onto the floor of the ship while Sigurd tapped idly at the keys. When he landed, he looked up to see Sigurd staring back at him, face still unreadable from the dark.
"What're you trying to get out of me?" Sigurd asked cautiously, hesitating after every syllable, like he didn't understand what Desmond was saying. It caught him off guard for a second.
"I'm not trying to get something out of you, Sigurd. I just want to understand what's keeping you here. You don't have to stay."
Sigurd turned towards the screen with a sigh.
"It'd be normal for anyone to go home after everything you've seen. We've seen."
Desmond walked towards the terminal as quietly as possible. Sigurd noticeably turned away from his approach.
"I don't need your pity." He growled.
As Desmond reached the terminal, he put a hand on the ledge of the keyboard. Sigurd's hand jumped slightly. He sighed a deep, almost shuddering sigh as he took his hands off the keyboard and let them fall to his sides, staring at the terminal.
"Why do you care so much, anyway? Wouldn't that be bad for your stupid team management?" Sigurd mumbled.
Before he could really process what Sigurd had just said to him, Desmond responded with the first thing that came to mind.
"Well, somebody's got to."
Sigurd sat in silence for a while before speaking again.
"I'm not... supposed to. I'm not supposed to quit." He said hesitantly.
Sigurd turned his head back towards Desmond. His face was finally just barely visible. He was glaring at Desmond, not out of hatred or anger, but something like caution.
There was something so familiar about the look in Sigurd's eyes. It was like there was something trying to get out, something that wanted to be anywhere but here. Anyone but him.
Sigurd's gaze fell away from him and back to the terminal.
"It's my first job, y'know. I can't."
And Desmond finally understood what it was that kept him here.
"... Alright."
He sighed and let his hand fall from the terminal ledge.
"Get some sleep soon." Desmond said quietly. Turning to walk back to the beds, he added, "We have a big day tomorrow."
Sigurd didn't respond, and simply began to type again.