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It was the end of the world and they were going to die.
Well, it was only guaranteed one of them would- the other was left to fate, or the universe, or whatever you believed in.
Dubois and Shapiro believed in neither. They believed in science. And really, what else could they put their faith in? Science is what got them here, together.
They had met before, sure. Same fields of study, after all. They had just never been shoved on a boat together and given the same schedule.
Which is where they were now, by the way. A boat. Not sailing to their deaths, exactly, but something like it.
Shapiro propped her chin on her hand. “What’s your bet?”
Dubois looked up at her, pausing the rereading of his notes from their previous lesson. “Pardon?”
She tipped her head more, dark eyes glittering with mirth and dark hair falling like a waterfall off her shoulder. “Dr. Grace. Why do you think he’s late this time?”
He thought about it for a moment. “Chances are he’s finishing off paperwork. That’s been his excuse the last three times.”
“If we were placing money on it, that would be a good bet,” she hummed. “I think… he’s trying to convince Stratt to fly him in more Skittles.”
Dubois blinked. “That is… possible.”
Shapiro laughed. “You don’t think so?! Man, I think that’s a great bet!”
Something sparked in Dubois. He didn’t know Shapiro very well, but wanted to, to impress her. To challenge her. And maybe himself.
“Let’s do it, Shapiro,” he found himself saying. “Put money on it, I mean.”
Her eyes lit up. “You’re kidding.”
He dug into his pocket– he didn’t need his wallet on the boat, but old habits die hard– and pulled out a twenty U.S dollar. “There. He’s catching up on paperwork.”
A grin took over Shapiro’s face. “Okay. I’ll send you twenty bucks if you’re right.”
“I am right. Might as well send me the money now.”
She laughed, bright and clear. Dubois felt like maybe that laugh could be just for him, forever. As long as he lived.
They shook on it as Dr. Ryland Grace rushed into the room, his arms full with his laptop and papers.
“Sorry! Sorry,” he huffed. “Meeting with Stratt ran long. Let’s just start off from where we ended yest-”
Shapiro scream-laughed, swiping Dubois’s twenty dollars off the table. He closed his eyes and sighed as Grace glanced between the two.
“...Okay,” he said.
“Let’s just start the lesson,” Dubois said as Shapiro continued to giggle. He tried to frown and look annoyed, but he couldn’t help a smile as he glanced at her. She swiveled to face Grace, but still bounced happily in her seat.
The beginning of an end, probably.
-
Neither really remembered how it started– maybe he touched her hand, maybe she brushed his arm– but they didn’t really care. Nobody else seemed to either.
They knew what they all thought, though. They could feel it in the air.
Good for them. I hope they’re happy. This won’t end well.
Shapiro and Dubois didn’t mind. They were going to die, after all.
The first time, they were sitting on the floor in a mostly abandoned hallway. It helped that it was close to 3am, and they were both a little drunk.
Shapiro had Dubois’s notebook. She had the care not to flip through it (even though she was curious), and instead just wrote on the back page.
“See,” she said, pointing at her drawing with the pencil eraser. “Tha’s you, and that’s me.”
He leaned over, his forehead almost touching hers. Her heart beat a little faster.
“You didn’t even draw hair on yourself,” he said slowly.
Shapiro flopped her head on her shoulder, squinting at him. “Do you see it or not?”
His dark eyes met hers. This time, maybe Shapiro’s heart stopped beating at all. That seemed to be happening a lot lately.
His face stretched into a smile. “Yeah. Sure, Annie.”
“Annie? How drunk are you?” she laughed. Nobody on the ship ever called each other by their first names- she was Shapiro, and he was Dubois.
He looked down at his dark brown hands. Shapiro thought they were maybe the color of fresh soil, the kind your grandmother helps you put in the pot to cover a seed that probably will never grow, but you stare at it on the windowsill for days hoping it does. Yeah. Maybe she was more drunk than she thought.
“I thought I’d try it out,” Dubois mumbled.
The way he said it made her pause. Did she hurt his feelings by laughing? That was the last thing she wanted to do. Shapiro scooted closer to him. “Sorry. I’m sorry. You can call me Annie, if you want.”
Dubois looked up at her. “Okay.”
She smiled and stuck her hand in the small space between them. “Hello. I’m Annie.”
His lips twitched into a smile as he took her hand to shake. “Hi, Annie. I’m Martin.”
He did not let go of her hand.
To his credit, neither did she.
That was the first time, but it wasn’t the last for a long time.
-
They started having sex. As people do.
The whole boat had to know it was happening– Annie wasn’t the most subtle about it, after all. Propping her legs on him when they both sat down, leaning on him during briefings, entangling their pinkies when they were supposed to be working. She was always letting him know she was there, in some form or fashion.
Martin didn’t mind. He liked being steady for her.
This time, they were in the privacy of Dubois’s quarters. Being sent to die did have its perks. Like private quarters. They were small, sure, but no one really cared.
Martin sat at the edge of his cot, Annie straddling his lap, his face in her hands, her hips in his. Their project-issued shirts lay discarded on the floor, forgotten.
Annie made a small groan as Martin tugged on her bottom lip. She shifted to wrap her arms around his neck, bringing them closer.
“I love you,” mumbled Martin.
They froze together.
“What?” Annie said.
Martin pulled back, face burning. “Nothing. Nothing, I’m sorry.”
Annie’s hands fell to his shoulders. “Martin–”
“It’s– we’re supposed to be casual. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.” He wanted to melt through the atoms beneath him and sink into the ocean floor. Why did he say that? He had thought it, briefly, but always waved it away. They couldn’t really be anything more here, on this ship, working on this project. It was the end of the world and he was going to die. He couldn’t do that to her. Why did he do that to her???
“Hey. Hey, hey.” She put one hand on his cheek, turning his eyes to hers. “I’m… it’s fine.”
“Just forget I said anything,” he said miserably. “Please.”
She hesitated, and Martin still didn’t know why. God, he was such an idiot.
“Do you… want to watch a movie?” she asked.
Martin kind of hated movies. But he nodded.
They collapsed on his bed, side by side, while Annie scrolled through options on her phone. He wasn’t paying attention. He was looking at her and cursing himself.
Her fingers stalled over her phone, then she dropped it, leaned over, and kissed Martin. He closed his eyes and sunk into the kiss– Maybe they could forget about it. Maybe it never happened at all.
She pulled away and met his gaze. “I love you, too.”
He stared at her. She stared back.
Finally, he asked, “Why?”
A ghost of a smile crossed her face. “Because we’re going to die?”
“Seems like the perfect reason not to.”
“Or the perfect reason.”
Or the perfect reason.
They didn’t watch a movie. They didn’t have sex, either. They laid in each other’s arms and fell asleep.
-
He had three days to live.
Neither wanted to think about it. But they did. They talked for hours about it. What his first steps would be out of the coma. What books he would read. What would happen if this was truly a hail mary, and it was all for nothing.
They didn’t want to think about it. But they had to.
They saw each other less and less these days– Stratt always wanted Martin to be here and here and there. She seemed hellbent on keeping them separate. Annie understood why, but it frustrated her to no end.
So when Martin somehow got them scheduled in the lab again, she jumped at the chance.
She carefully slid the one nanogram of astrophage into its place and stepped back. “How does everything look?”
Martin tapped away on a tablet before smiling and giving her a thumbs up. “Looks good to me. I still have to set up a couple things.”
She nodded, walking over to stand next to him. She stared at the tablet’s screen, but didn’t read it. She didn’t have the energy.
Closing her eyes, she leaned against Martin. Almost imperceptibly, he leaned into her. Annie thought she could stay here forever, probably.
“Okay,” Martin said. “Let’s run it.”
A split second before it happened, Martin could feel something go wrong.
Oh, he thought. I’m not dying in three days. I’m dying right now.
The last thought they both had was at least they were together. At least the end of the world came at the same time.
It was the end.