Chapter Text
Chapter 1
All I remember is waking up and feeling like I just had the most massive hangover despite never being the one to drink, how did I know that? Gasping for air like I was being reborn I felt like something was down my throat blocking me from breathing on my own without massive discomfort.
I tried to claw out whatever it was but to no avail, I was stuck hand glued to my body. I tried to scream but only a sad little whimper came out. I was praying somebody could hear me, ‘where the hell am I?!’ I thought to myself.
Suddenly a mechanical whirr surfaced from somewhere around my surroundings, “movement detected” a feminine voice said, almost too artificially,
Finally I get to get out of my confines yet to be let free because something was holding me down, I feel like I've been asleep for a million years.
I took a closer look at the source of the voice and realized it was a robot?
"What is two plus two?" the robot emitted
After a few grumbles trying to say the answer and a sleuth of “Incorrect” and repeating the question from the bot, it finally concluded it was because I had a pipe going down my throat it pinched the tube and it pulled it out and I immediately spat out some vile mucus, Gross
finally I got out a pretty decent answer and said
“Fouuh” my voice sounded crunchy and like i was drowning at the same time
"What is the cube root of eight?"
I seriously feel like now is not the time for math, what the hell is a cube?
I don't know! I don't even know who I am! I wanted to scream, but it just came out as a wet, pathetic sob. I felt like a toddler.
“Eigff” I say without really thinking twice just wanting to get whatever this was over with “Incorrect” fuck you Mrs wannabe Wall-E… What the heck is it?
The first thing I learnt about myself is that I don't like math.
"What is your name?” she said, i opened my mouth automatically only to find pause, i didnt know my own name?
“I dunno” I blurted
comforting..I know answers to math questions but not my own name.
Now where can I find someone to tell me Where the hell I am, better yet, Who I am?
The only warmth i felt was the huge warm tears running down my face, gosh I want water
“Come on, I can do this” I softly chanted to myself,
I gripped the side rail, waiting for my knees to give out, but they... didn't. Not entirely. I felt like I was made of twigs, light and fragile, but standing. I looked around only to find that i was in a clinic or doctors room, phew thats a relief.
'Low gravity,' I realized. My brain felt like it was floating in my skull, a classic sign of a vestibular shift. Plus, my muscles felt twitchy, like I’d been hooked up to a TENS unit on the highest setting for a week. The ship must have been working us out while we were under.
It was clever. Terrifying, but clever way to keep my muscles intact.
I still felt like a crying pile of garbage, but at least I wasn't a paralyzed pile of garbage.
‘No physiotherapy for meeee!’ I cheered in my head triumphantly.
Let's do a mental check on ourselves shall we? I woke up in this strange clinic, in some sort of non newtonian fluid presumably to keep me from rotting too much under coma. I feel like shit, my muscles are working but sore and my only companion is a robot stuck to the ceiling. AND WHO THE FLIP AM I?! Why is there no nurse to aid me…
fuck me. That's my answer to all my questions
There was however one way to get most of these answers i look around for some door, nope theres a ladder though, i climb down the ladder, holding on for dear life, I do not want a concussion
please dont slip, please dont slip, please dont sli-
Made it!
Ok now where are we? Some sorta hallway, long sterile clean it brought comfort and familiarity somehow, I turned away from the ladder to look down the corridor searching for a desk, a chart, a human, anything.
I wandered the halls a bit and stood outside what I think is a lab, beakers and other scientific equipment, not really my area of expertise…. I think?
Suddenly a door whooshes from behind me I yelp out in fear
I swiftly turned around and grabbed whatever was near me for defense.
a pen? This will do i gues
I see a tall man standing with long matted dirty blonde hair and a hell of a beard,
Jesus? Is that you? Shit I guess I'm going to hell.
I gripped the pen so hard my knuckles turned a ghostly white. It was a pathetic weapon, but it was all I had between me and the Prophet of Doom standing in the doorway.
He didn't move. He just leaned heavily against the frame, why was he tired?
Fuck me for not being religous.
'Yep, this is it,' I thought, my heart thudding against my ribs like a trapped bird. 'I died in that tube. I’m dead, and Jesus is here to tell me I'm a horrible person for reading fanfic on Ao3 at 2 am damn well knowing i had an exam.isn't lust is a sin, I’m going to Hell for sure.'
He looks at me his eyes widen and he screams “WHAT THE FUDGE PLEASE NO”
Is he screaming at me? Rude fuck. Wait why is he screaming ,
“Why are you here, what are you doing and don't you dare hurt me” I say, surprising myself with how calm I sounded. Why was I calm?
He looked at me relaxing oh so slightly, “wah? No I don wanna hurt you wha do you mean?”
His voice was a wreck dry, raspy, and sounding like it had been dragged through a gravel pit. He looked so genuinely bewildered that I actually felt a little bad for him. He looked really confused, poor thing.
I slowly lowered the pen, though I didn't put it away. My arm was shaking so badly I was pretty sure I couldn't have stabbed a piece of paper anyway.
“Who are you?” I repeated.
“I don't know, I swear I'm not gonna hurt you, I don't even know who I am!” he said, frustration evident in his voice.
I visibly softened “ I -I just woke up and got out. I didn't remember quack about anything. Not my name, not how I got here... nothing.”
“You don’t know either?” I asked, my voice a little steadier. He tried to shift his weight, his heels squeaking against the sterile floor. “I thought I was the only one. I thought I was going insane.”
“Join the club,” I muttered, sliding down the wall until I was sitting on the floor across from him. I didn't have the strength to stand anymore.
“We should clean up and find someone else” I said hoping he’d agree.
He silently nodded in agreement,
I stood up still feeling like i was just born today, i feel like a baby, covered in wet slime barely can walk and a crying mess
He kept peppering me with questions, his voice raspy and desperate. He wanted a play-by-play of our collective amnesia, but honestly, I didn't have the energy or memory for it.
"Don't know, don't know, and surprise still don't know," I muttered, guiding him down the long, sterile corridor. "But I do know I woke up in a glorified ICU. I'm assuming that's where the 'Good Stuff' is kept. Follow me, I’m pretty sure the Med Bay is this way."
Leading him back felt right. We held hands so we wouldn't slip and fall. My body remembered the layout even if my mind didn't
The ladder up was painful but manageable. Who designed a med-bay to be a climb up? What if someone can't climb up?
Once we finally clambered our way to the station I asked the robot if we could get some sort of cleaning supplies for ourselves, she instructed that a cosmetic bag would be near the emergency first aid kit, , unzipping the bag like it contained the secrets to the universe. Inside was a treasure trove: an electric razor, shears, a sachet of shaving gel, and some weird "dry" body and face wash. No water? Damn it..
I divided the supplies equally, i didnt think i would need an electrical razor , but wannabe jesus did so i offered it to him and he graciously accepted.
"First step," I muttered, "is getting that bird's nest off your face."
I turned to the mirror by the ‘sanitary station’ and immediately regretted it. I looked like a complete disaster. My eyes were red and puffy from the crying jag, I was coated in a layer of coma-slime, and my hair was so matted it looked like a dreadlock experiment gone wrong.
"Fuck," I whispered to my reflection. "I look horrible."
“We look horrible” he muttered i dint know if he was trying to empathize or about it or make it worse.
I grabbed the shears and tried to cut off my hair, a large chunk falling to the ground with a few satisfying snips, tension releasing. He watched without uttering a word. It felt as though I was getting cleaner. I suddenly felt someone reach for the scissors and the stranger started to cut the hair behind my back,
i whispered a small “thanks”
He didn't answer, just slightly smiling.
Soon enough I stopped to find almost all of my hair on the ground leaving me in a short hair cut that only reached about the nape of my neck, much more manageable and better looking than the tangle before. Hair holds memories someone told me once, though I think getting all of it is helping me remember better.
I turned around to look at him, finding him staring at me, probably waiting for his turn.
I stepped back so he could get his hair off and I handed him the hair shears, and helped him with the back with the razor, he decided it was enough when we reached a small messy haircut, it looked like he just got out of bed but in an intentional way. He looked much nicer until I noticed the mop of a beard, I gently turned his face to look down and towards me holding the razor in my hand.the other holding his jaw , starting with the sides he looked at me in shock and surprise only to ease up when I reassured him.
“Trust me, I feel like I know what I'm doing” he chuckled, looking away clearly flustered. I worked on his beard silently, only leaving a slight beard behind which suited him, clicking the razor off.
"There," I promptly pulled back to let him see himself and he looked at himself in awe, probably surprised he could look that attractive. Wait what?.... The silence of the Med Bay rushed back in, punctuated only by the distant hum of the ship's engines. "You look nicer now, less the lord has come to take me and more of a normal guy .”
“Thanks” he laughed at my remark. “I think we should try to find new clothes and change,” he suggested glancing down at our stained, stiff jumpsuits.
I hummed in agreement, both of us waddling over to the robot and asking for clothes only for it to say its in our personal belongings. Guess we do need to know who we are now, i walked over to a cabinet and pressed it, for it to release out in a whooshh sound there were 4 large zipped compartments with names and roles,
Yao Li-Jie - Commander and pilot
Olesya Ilyukhina - materials specialist
Ryland Grace - Lead Scientist
███████ - Lead medical examiner
I turned around , to look at my companion only to see him opening each bag and he found polaroids of each member.
I stared at the four bags. My eyes skipped over the first three, searching for the name. Then, I saw it. The fourth bag, tucked neatly at the end.
he pulled a picture out of the fourth bag holding it up to compare to my face and nodding in understanding, “ You're Dr ████, the medical examiner,” he handed the photo to me, i saw a woman strikingly similar to myself only with longer curlier hair and more joy on her face she also looked quite a bit younger than me, probably an older photo.
I was███████. The name didn't just sound like a word, it felt like a physical weight settling into my chest. ███████. It was me. I wasn't just a patient or a survivor; I had a title. Lead Medical Examiner. I ran my fingers over the plastic casing of the bag. A "Lead" position, I felt proud but also a sense of disconnect. I peered into the bag to find many items that interested me but decided to quickly grab my clothes and set them aside. I'll look at those later. I need to see who this stranger was first.
i turned to him and saw three of the the bags, including mine, had a lot of memorabilia and objects, but the one belonging to the scientist, there was a one simple photo a few tees, drawing and a crocheted ball of the the earth.
Sure enough the photo was his, he was awkwardly smiling. It looked forced with one hand half heartedly up gesturing a wave,dorky, definitely him.
I giggled to myself, “Hello Dr Ryland Grace” he smiled down at me. a smile so warm i felt safe.
TO BE CONTINUED