Chapter Text
“How about… coworkers?”
“I can do that.” Red smiled.
They didn’t know what to do for the last few weeks on the ship. Either way, Purple was out of a job.
No crewmates left to protect meant there was no point lurking on cams anymore. (Not that purple could’ve solved anything on those old things.)
Red insisted Purple complete every other job while they would “captain the ship,” but Purple quickly shut that down, making it clear they were in this together.
As much as two coworkers were in something together.
Whatever.
Purple did their rounds but couldn’t help getting the creeps by the empty halls of the ship. So as much as they loathed to admit it, they stayed in the captain’s bridge…
With red.
“I’ve always wanted to be behind the wheel of one of these things.” Purple said, gazing out at the vast ocean of space beyond the bridge windows.
“Why wait?” Red immediately slipped out of the captain’s chair.
Purple seemed skeptical, “Should you really be taking your hands off that thing? Especially now that we’re so close…”
They waved them off, “Nah, it’s fine, you worry too much. I barely was in here, remember? Getting chased by a parasitic alien?”
As much as they hated it, Red was right. For once.
These ships were probably meant to be steered by a dummy. Give any old crewmate a captain’s handbook and they were good to go. “I guess it’s fine since they let you of all people be the captain.” Purple slid in Red's empty seat.
“Yeah that’s— Hey!”
One look at the many buttons and doodads made Purple realize that this might be a bit harder than it looked. Purple stared down at the panel with a visibly confused look on their face.
Red guided Purple’s hand onto the steering wheel. Red stood behind the chair while pressing a random button and flipped a random switch.
Maybe Red did know what they were doing.
That’d be a first.
They sat in silence as the purple crewmate tried to focus on steering.
“Am I doing this right?”
Red gave Purple a thumbs up, “You’re doing great, Purps”
This Red was weird. They were nicer for some reason. Purple didn’t like it. It almost was like they’d forgotten the whole reactor ‘thing’ and they were friends again.
A few rocks were in ship's path. Purple didn’t know what to do, the meteors were approaching so quickly.
Purple’s eyes widened, “Wha— what do I—”
“Hmmm. Normally Lime would handle weapons” Red put a hand on Purple’s shoulder as they thought, "but…”
Lime was dead. Not like they could forget that.
Red quickly turned away and whipped out that stupid Captain’s handbook and loudly flipped through the pages.
Was Red even trying to be subtle?
“Red— RED!” Purple gripped the steering wheel like that would somehow help.
The meteors slowly floated closer.
“Alright.” Red slammed the book close and tucked it back into their backpack, “steer left Purps!”
Red was doing that stupid calm and assertive “captain’s voice” again. Red wasn’t fooling anyone. It’s literally what the handbook says.
Purple steered left but it didn’t do anything. If anything, now the rocks were probably gonna hit an engine now.
“We’re gonna die. After everything. We were so close…” Red took off his captain’s hat like they were about to go down with the ship.
“WHAT!” Purple whipped back to see if they were serious. They frantically tried pressing random buttons and yelling: “RED TAKE THE WHEEL BACK!”
“No can do. Finders-keepers.” Red stood firm next to the chair.
“RED! WHAT THE HELL!? Since when has that ever stopped you?” They tried dragging Red back into the chair but the damn crewmate wouldn’t budge.
The rocks floated closer and they both started panicking.
They grabbed onto Red awaiting their doom. They both hugged as the rocks got too close. Was this it?
Purple squeezed so hard they didn’t even realize Red gasping for air.
Then Purple heard the cannons and peeked their eyes open.
Just as the rocks got near and took their final breath, the ships blasters automatically shot the meteors to dust.
“What..?”
Then Purple heard it. A chuckle, none other than the red crewmate in their arms.
“Why are you laughing?”
Red wiped a tear from their visor. “I had the ship on autopilot the whole time.”
Suddenly Purple became acutely aware of how close they were to Red. Purple’s hands were still holding tightly. Quickly they pushed the Red crewmate away and tried to hide the embarrassed flush on their face.
“Admit it, I got you~” Red leaned in, and Purple pushed their stupid face away again.
“You almost let me die.”
“Almost,” Red corrected, completely unbothered. “But I didn’t. Autopilot exists for a reason.”
“That is not the point!”
“The point,” Red said, stepping back just enough to gesture vaguely at the bridge, “is that you panicked and hugged me.”
“I was not—” Purple stopped, realizing that was exactly what they did. “That was survival instinct!”
“Survival instinct,” Red repeated, like they were savoring it. “Sureeee.”
Purple crossed their arms hard, suddenly very interested in literally anything except them. “I can’t believe I almost forgot how insufferable you are.”
Red didn’t say anything for a moment, tapping their fingers on the panel like they were thinking, “You know… for a second there I thought you were actually gonna miss me when we dock in a few weeks.”
Purple looked away, not really knowing how to respond to that.
“I think you should take the… thing.” They stepped back, letting Red back in their rightful place.
Red didn’t fight it, “Yeah… I guess it’d be best.”
The rest of the day was spent making a grave for Heracles. Red stayed flying the ship. The only thing Purple could find was an empty pizza box with crumbs permanently stuck in the corner of the cardboard.
Purple had once read that salt prevents the growth of many bacteria and molds. And for a ship that could still have aliens, they wanted to make sure Hercules's body didn’t turn yucky.
They took some of Cyan’s old rock salt. It’s not like they would miss it. Cyan was dead.
“Oh Heracles…” Purple placed the fish in the makeshift grave.
The little body looked almost peaceful in the corner of the greasy pizza box, surrounded by a thin layer of Cyan’s rock salt like some sad, space-faring funeral rite.
Purple stared down at it for a long moment. “You were a good boy. Even if you did bite Red that one time.”
A voice behind them sounded behind them and Purple jumped.
It was Red.
They let out a soft snort. “He had taste.”
Purple didn’t laugh. They just kept staring at the pathetic little grave on the cafeteria table. The empty ship felt heavier than usual.
Red placed a hand on Purple’s shoulder, “Are you ok..?”
Purple sniffed, “I don’t know.”
Red sat next to them. Slowly, almost shyly, Purple leaned into Red’s side, helmet resting lightly against their shoulder.
It was the first time they’d reached for them like this. Not out of panic. Not survival instinct. Just… comfort.
Like they used to.
It certainly had been a long time.
Red froze for half a second like he couldn’t believe it, then his arm slid around Purple’s back, holding them gently.
“You’re allowed to be sad about a fish, Purps,” Red murmured, voice softer than usual. “After everything that’s happened… it’s okay.”
Purple let out a shaky breath, visor fogging slightly. “It’s stupid. He was just a dumb goldfish. But he was the last normal thing on this ship. Now it’s just… us.”
“Yeah,” Red said quietly. “Just us.”