Chapter Text
Clarissa stares out at the infinite expanse of blackness devouring her as she sails slowly and inexorably through the dark and empty space … she feels weightless … the terrifying emptiness around her is almost suffocating …
"Goodbye Amos," she whispers, her voice hoarse and strained after the endless screaming. She can taste the salt of her tears in her mouth. She's not screaming anymore, now she's crying silently.
Amos' voice is very clear and matter-of-fact over the radio link. "No fucking way, Peaches. I'm on my way …"
"Now hold your horses right there, partner ... I'm going to turn the Roci around – " It's Alex over the radio link. He's slightly out of breath and Amos can picture the pilot sitting in the cockpit, his face taut with concentration. "Bobbie's on her way to the airlock …"
"Listen to him, Amos – there's no way you can possibly reach her – " Naomi's voice is calm and matter of fact, but he knows her well enough to detect the thread of panic in her voice.
"Well I can if I vent oxygen," Amos tells her briefly and Naomi starts swearing loudly.
"Amos - stand down, goddamnit. We're handling this – don't you dare ... that's an order." Holden's voice is a mix of anger and fear as he stands in the cockpit, staring helplessly at the disaster playing out before his eyes.
Just moments earlier, Amos and Clarissa had been clumping across the hull on magnetic boots, Amos carrying big sheets of patch material as Clarissa carried a portable welding torch in her hand to help him repair an outer hull breach that had been caused during their latest skirmish with black-market military ships manned by angry Belters. They called themselves freedom fighters, but the truth was that they were little more than murderous thugs.
As they worked, the Roci had jolted violently beneath their feet and Clarissa had stumbled slightly, the sheets of metal flying from her hands. As she had a hundred times before, she had used her heels to touch her boots’ slide controls, increasing the strength of the magnets. Except that the magnets hadn't worked and the metal sheets had dropped from her hands, falling down towards the hull, snapping the cable attaching her suit to the safety rings on the hull.
Arms flailing, voice screaming in terror over the main channel, she had felt her body driving away from the surface of the Roci as Amos staggered forward in a vain attempt to grab her hand .. her foot … any part of her he could reach … But he'd missed and she had spun lightly through the air and started falling away from the Roci …
*
"I've got you Peaches," Amos rasps harshly as he catches up to her, ignoring the oxygen venting from his suit. His arms grip around her tightly as they spin through the air.
"You idiot – we're both going to die," she tells him, a sob in her voice.
"Not for want of trying," Bobbie's voice is terse as the Roci dives and then pulls alongside.
"Alex – try to rescue them not kill them." Holden's voice is terse and Amos smiles, feeling a light-headed from lack of oxygen.
He glances over and sees Bobbie standing in the airlock. "Any excuse to wear that damned suit," he mutters and he watches as she hooks herself in and then launches herself from the airlock, heavy cargo netting in her gauntleted hands as Alex manoeuvres the Roci carefully.
"Have you got them?" Naomi's voice is brittle with tension.
"Asking me about it doesn't make me do it faster, Naomi," Alex retorted through gritted teeth as his hands hold the controller lightly but perspiration pours down his face.
"I've got them," Bobbie announces.
"Bring them in so that I can kill them both," Holden orders her.
*
The computerised expert system pumps them both full of oxygen, monitors their vitals and scans their brains for signs of any brain damage caused by oxygen deprivation.
"I saw what you did," Clarissa tells Amos as she lies on the bed beside him in the medical bay. Bobbie, in a fit of consideration has pushed Clarissa's bed next to Amos so that they can hold hands. Not that they do.
"I saw it, too," Holden mutters tersely. "Unclipped his damned cable like a goddamned idiot even though I told him not to. Vented oxygen like the brain-damaged idiot he is."
"Radio must have gone out, cap – was functioning on instinct," Amos lies brazenly and Holden swears beneath his breath. "You ever do that again," he threatens and leaves the medical bay abruptly.
"What he said," Naomi tells Amos severely and then leaves the two mechanics alone in sick bay.
"You risked your life to save me," Clarissa says wonderingly. Her lips are pink, her cheeks flushed from the oxygen. "You didn't even stop and think – just came after me … "
"So?" he demands warily.
"So … no one told you to do it …"
"Don't read too much into it, it's not a declaration of love of anything," he retorts and she laughs and puts her hand out and rests it on top of his chest, just above his heart.
"It means … the good comes from inside of you, Amos … you're a good person …"
Amos's light eyes darken momentarily and he gives a short, humourless laugh. Then he taps her temple lightly with a fingertip. "So I guess the oxygen deprivation caused some brain damage after all," he tells her.
Clarissa laughs and curls up against him, resting her cheek against his chest. "Thank you," she whispers. "I was … terrified – thought I'd die alone, just spinning through space … " She shudders. It would have been an appropriate if horrifying punishment for her multitude of sins.
Amos puts his arm about her and pulls her closer. "Wasn't going to let you fly away like that, Peaches … " His mouth covers hers and he kisses her lingeringly, comfortingly even ...
Even after everything that's happened, he still can't say the words aloud – but one day he will …