Chapter Text
It's theorized the universe as we all know it is contained within one big, expansive black hole. A black hole massive enough to propagate miniature black holes within itself, as well as populate nebulae, galaxies and star systems. Some of those star systems are lucky enough to be smattered with flourishing forms of life, beautiful in their variance yet fleeting in their persistence. To a star, a life is that of a passing pebble to be incinerated by the radiation of space. And yet.
Life finds a way.
Even now, on a battered and hollow corpse of a ship stalling through space.
Life found a way.
One drenched in blood, distrust and salt. The grand windows displaying the cosmos to the cafeteria had, for the most part, been wiped clean by now. Two weeks had passed since the final Impostor, the one puppeting Green, was slew. The dust had settled long ago. Balloons had been drearily re-taped to the walls. The broom and mop remained untouched, however. The knowledge that a killer alien had handled them last made both surviving crewmates unsettled enough to avoid the items like their handles were burning metal. Regardless, attempts to clean the varied spaces up had relatively resulted in something adjacent to success.
Red stared down at the cup of water they had been nursing for the past two hours. The view of the endless sky had prickled them enough to give up pondering it. All that lay out there is their career’s doom, bits of flesh from their friends and murderers, and somewhere further out a cold corpse of one that should never have died. Their blood still caked the deep creases of Red’s hands, no matter how many times they'd scrub. The captain sucked in a deep breath.
“You look lame moping. What are you doing here?”
That breath then got punched out in shock, resulting in Red spluttering for a moment before whirling around to the source of the voice.
The only person it could be, of course.
“I uh, just… y'know. Brooding all handsomely and all that!” The weak deflection fell flat, considering that Purple didn't even bat their visor.
“Uh-huh. I'm sure your water is full of nutritious dust by this point.” Their stance of crossing their hands emphasized the sarcasm in their voice. If Red had an eye, they'd be rolling it.
“What did you want? Can't a guy stare out into space and ponder the… uh, great beyond? In the peace of their own space ship?”
“Maybe. But this space ship is company property. Any theoretical captains of said space ship would not be able to stare out into space and ponder the great beyond in the peace of their own space ship here, since it is, again, company property.”
Red levelled Purple with a simmering glare, which was met with equal heat.
“You need to take a break from being right all the time. It makes me look bad.”
The heat was instantly gone as Red turned back around to their cup and the infinity of space. Whatever strength had been summoned to meet Purple’s banter had fizzled out. They didn't even glance over as a familiar presence settled down into the cafeteria stool beside them.
Red silently watched the tiny specks of dust jiggle along the surface of their water along with their heartbeat, counting each pulse to keep themselves grounded. By the time they reached 40, they vaguely noticed Purple had left at some point.
Nevertheless, the dissociation persisted. What was even present in the cafeteria that would create dust to begin with? There were no (living) pet mates on board and crewmates themselves don't shed anything to Red’s knowledge. Maybe stuff from the vents? Though if anything that would mostly chalk up to shredded bits of Lime’s clothes from scraping around down there. Gross… and sad.
A soft weight was draped around Red’s back and shoulders from the side, pulling them from a dangerously depressing train of thought. They glanced up in mild shock to meet Purple by their side again, pointedly focusing on their hands rather than meeting Red’s gaze. Once settled, they sat back down beside the captain and resumed their silence. While at one point Red would have eagerly imagined such details, they were now acutely aware of the distance between their stools having shrunk since Purple last sat down. The captain adjusted to lean in their direction, even if only by a hair, and was met with a hand settling on their knee.
Now, since the subject had been broached nonverbally, Red mustered the courage to stare at Purple head on, their hands shifting their cup into one palm so that the other may shift to cover Purple’s.
“Did you need me for something?”
The hand on the Captain's knee twitched in response. A verbal reply followed after a few minutes of quiet.
“Just checking on you.”
The creak of the ventilation shafts kicking on filled the air while Red pieced together what they wanted to say next. They would have to check to see if the dust was being pumped in from the vents some other day.
A star smothered in its kin off in the infinity twinkled just a touch brighter before simmering back down.
“I'm okay, Purps. Or at least, as okay as I can be, I guess.”
“Doubt it.”
Purple finally turned to meet Red’s visor, their expression unreadable. No matter the thoughts scrambling through their head or the exhaustion lines creasing their suit, Red couldn't help but melt at the endearing view of their old friend bathed in starlight. The captain hid a steadying breath to quell their heightened heart rate.
“You haven't touched your games in a week. Your room in crew quarters has gone undisturbed since the end of it. Our rations are far higher than they are projected to be at this point, and that's already accounting for the fact that I know I have not been diligent on my own self care.”
Red had no words to give as a response. They had felt so empty since that day, despite how eager they were to have Purple back to some degree. So much was taken from them. So much Red, specifically, had ruined. So many lives lost by their own captain's incompetence and corporate boot-licking. All of that, and they made one of their better choices in a long, long time to finally take Purple’s side and do the right thing. Had they just listened earlier, had they just never signed that damn NDA-
“Redsie.”
Red snapped from their thoughts to a warm hand on their cheek, slowly wiping hot tears away from their visor.
“Do I even deserve this second chance? I couldn't save any of them.”
“You saved me.”
“Of course I did! But the others-”
“All of us were fooled. Not even I realized it was Green until they slipped up on the reactor story.”
“They didn't deserve this. They were just trying to do their jobs and-”
“You still helped to save them. It was your quick thinking that kept most of us safe from Orange.”
“It was my fault the eggs were jostled enough to infect our crewmates!!”
Red’s voice had risen a few degrees, the edge laced with deep rooted guilt.
“Had I just listened to you in the beginning instead of that stupid fucking book and not allowed the prize winner to drive the ship-”
Red’s demoralizing monologue was cut short by both of Purple’s hands yanking them to fully face their body toward the other crewmate. A few moments passed while Red’s racing mind was forced to a trot before Purple spoke.
“Do you have a time machine?”
“... What? No?”
“Are you a necromancer?”
“No! Why are you asking-”
“Then stop bringing up the past.”
Red blinked.
“It's done. I'm tired of stewing over it. It's what blinded me to the truth all this time. I would have seen the signs and ejected Green much earlier had I not been so tunneled on you because of our past.”
The faint tremor in Purple’s hands did not go unnoticed.
“But I let it rule over me. Over my present. And, as a result, our future. I know I'm not the only one at fault… but it sure is easy to just blame yourself and ruminate in self-guilt for as long as you'd like. It was easier to pin it all on you, too. But I'm tired. Real fuckin’ tired.”
Red lifted a hand to thread between Purple’s fingers. The gesture was not rejected outright.
“Doing the easy shit isn't gonna work for us anymore, though. I… I need you to pull your head out of your ass and work with me. Because if you do so, I'll be less inclined to shove my own head up my ass.”
Red’s thumb gently smoothed over the top of Purple’s hand.
“You'd never believed it, but I always thought you actually were good at dealing with feelings.”
“Shut up! I'm being serious.”
“I am too, Purps.”
The next icy barb visibly died on the security guard’s tongue, and slowly their unrestrained hand returned back to their side. Red used the one they held in their own to tug the other crewmate into a gentle hug. The warmth that bloomed in their chest as the embrace was reciprocated melted them all the way to their bone-
Splaaash.
Both crewmates went stock still as the sound of a puddle of liquid hitting the ground echoed through the otherwise empty mess hall. Purple retracted from the embrace with a light grimace, and Red peered around them to see that the glass of water they had been holding was now half plashed on the floor and half dumped all over the back of Purple.
“Oh shit- ah, fuck, I'm sorry Purple!! I forgot I had the damn thing in my hand-” Immediately, the captain was racing across the cafeteria to gather towels to clean the mess up, leaving a soggy and befuddled security guard in their wake. Through the varied drawers of the kitchen Red rushed through, the stress of the last few weeks melting together to compound their guilt over an admittedly minor inconvenience.
At some point Red thinks that they must have banged their finger in a door, but at the very least they found the towel drawer and emptied three of the rags to take out to Purple. They hastily shot out from the kitchen door and raced back over to the table the two had been sitting at. However, they arrived to realize that the other crewmate was now missing. Red blinked their visor a few times and scanned the cafeteria for any signs of where the other had gone.
No doors closed, the minor splashes on the floor and table were still there, just not Purple.
Of course, right when they felt they were finally getting them to warm back up, they had to go and fuck up like this.
Defeated, Red tossed the towels onto the tabletop and slumped back down into their chair. The offending cup sat forgotten on the counter, a tiny amount of water remaining clumped at the bottom.
Stars don't have to worry about how bad of fuck ups they are. Lucky pricks.
“Why are you bleeding?”
Red startled again, too frazzled by the previous sequence of events to process the question at first. Purple now stood next to Red again, one of the towels the captain had found in their hand, their visor furrowed in confused concern. A slight tilt of their palm revealed a smudged splotch of red soaked into the fabric, still slightly wet.
“... I'm not? Maybe that was from when Brown…” Red's gaze diverted down to their lap at the recollection of the scene, only to jostle them into another moment of shock to see that their hand was, indeed, cut open and bleeding steadily. They held the afflicted hand up and tried to recall the moment the injury happened, but couldn't quite figure it out beyond ‘probably when I was in the kitchen at some point’.
“Oh,” Is all their neurons could spit out in the mess.
“... Come here,” And, truthfully, the minimal amount of exasperation in Purple’s voice was something to be praised; just, at a later date.
Red sulked after Purple, their metaphorical tail tucked between their legs in their compounding shame. Amidst all their fuckups, of course they'd not only spill water all over Purple, but find a way to go and injure themselves in the aftermath and cause another mess for the poor security guard to clean up.
The path to medbay had never felt so humiliating. The doors swishing open almost sounded like whispers. Rude whispers. Assholes.
“Sit.”
And sit they did. Red nervously observed as Purple plucked out the supplies they'd need to dress the wound around the office. Gauze, antibiotic ointment, rubbing alcohol and… apparently a secret fourth thing that Purple was deliberately hiding from them. Weird, but considering Purple’s secretive nature, not really out of the ordinary. The captain decided it best not to mention it, in contrast to how badly their nosy personality wanted to ask questions.
“Did you sleep last night?”
Red kept their gaze pointedly glued to their hand.
“.... Mmyeah.”
“How many?”
“Many?” Red tried their best to conceal the wince that the rubbing alcohol punched out of them.
“Hours.”
“Hours…?”
Purple squeezed their hand a bit too hard, obviously doing their best to maintain their patience.
“How many hours of sleep did you get.”
“Oh.”
A few minutes passed. The gauze was neatly pinned in place, the cut along the meat of their palm now sealed within bandages and medicine.
“Red.”
“Uh…”
Purple scooped all of the supplies they had used off of the corner of the cot Red had been sitting on and dumped them onto a medical tray on a counter.
“Do I need to knock you out myself to get you to sleep?”
The captain quickly hopped off of the cot and threw their hands up in mock surrender.
“Woah, woah! That would be mutiny! I'm totally fine, Purps. You worry too much!”
If looks could kill. Red swallowed around the growing lump in their throat under the withering gaze Purple was pinning them under.
“Look, there's just, uh, so much to do! So many tasks pour in every morning and there's only so many hours in the day, yeah? A good captain can't-”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“-just let all of- huh? What?? You can't just say that to-”
“Just. Shut. The fuckup.”
“-me- HEY! What's gotten into you-?”
Purple hands clasped around Red’s face, locking their head in place. Purple’s own visor inched closer, exasperated annoyance practically fuming off of them in waves.
“Can you just answer a simple question like a normal fucking crewmate for once and not deflect. Just once.”
Hah! Gulp!
“U-uh…”
“How. Many hours. Did you sleep.”
“... I don't think I've properly slept in three days.”
The pregnant silence suffocating the two carried on after that, Red's head clamped in a vice grip between Purple’s faintly trembling hands. Eventually, they released the other crewmate and gave a few inches of space between them.
“How hard was that?”
“Of course you mock me after-”
“Because you're insufferable. Anyways,”
“Guh- wuh- insufferable?? A bit ha-”
This time, Purple’s hands clamped right below Red’s visor, effectively muffling them.
“Shut.” The lighting in the medbay was really accentuating their cooler hue right now. Red hated that this is what was running around in their mind like a catmate at 3 am.
“I asked. Because I also have not slept in a long time.” They squeezed their hold a touch to emphasize their words before letting go entirely. “This was way too much work to ask one stupid question like that, but I guess it's on me for beating around the bush in the beginning.”
Even if Red were well rested, they believed they wouldn't be able to follow the train of logic that Purple was currently conducting. Clearly the lack of gears turning was audible, as Purple raked a hand down their visor with a world-weary sigh.
“I'm also just a coward at… talking about me. Especially to… you. Nowadays, anyway.”
The addon there felt intentionally barbed. Warranted, though.
“Uh… so… you were hoping I had tips, maybe? On how to sleep?”
Purple stared through them for a few beats, maybe even dozing off on their feet, before slowly shaking their head.
“... No.” A leaded pause. “Nevermind. Forget it.” And, just like that, they spun on their heel to leave.
Thank whatever godmates are out there that Red’s body jumped to action quick enough to grab Purple’s hand, anchoring them to the spot.
“Wait! Obviously I said the wrong thing or something. What is it? You did need me?”
The captain did not miss the way that Purple tensed up at that last question. A yes, it seems. And a begrudging one at that. The security guard slowly turned back around, using the time to piece together their next words. Red doesn't recall this look of uncertainty on their face since… well. A particular memory long ago.
“I…” They sucked in a deep breath. Slowly, they let it out. “Okay… yeah. I had a, uh… I dunno. Stupid idea. I'm too tired to think straight right now.”
“Hah. You have never thought straight.”
“Shut it. I'm being serious right now.”
“Heh…sorry.”
“... Anyways,” Purple stared at their conjoined hands, their fingers limp. “I know my insomnia stems from paranoia. From obvious sources. I don't feel safe, no matter where I am.”
A feeling that Red could echo. The cockpit feels like a tomb at times, and all other rooms feel like crime scenes. Well, most of them are actually crime scenes, actually. Except for…
“Everywhere I go reminds me of everything that happened. It's stained in my head. Like the gore was burned into my eyes.” Red registered that Purple's hand was now holding theirs, but they found it difficult to look away from Purple’s visor. “I hate it. When I'm walking alone or laying down in the dark I feel like the cold is their ghosts haunting me. Asking me why them, and not me.” They shakily take a breath. “I-I just… am so tired. Nowhere is safe from it. Not even crew quarters. Passing by their doors reminds me of it just as much as their final resting places.”
Red tenderly tugged Purple forward, catching them in their hands for a second try at that earlier hug. Immediately, Purple is clutching onto their uniform. The tremble in their hands is present all over their body. Is it from stress? Duress? Hell, it could also be sleep deprivation at this point.
“As much as I want to hold onto my hatred for you. I know it won't help me. It never had. It killed our friends. I may tend to it when I have the luxury, but… for now…” This time, it was Red's turn for their suit to be soaked. “I just… I just need you with me. Just. Just for a while. I need to sleep. I'm so tired. I know you are, too. M-maybe. If we sleep in the same room. We… we could finally feel okay enough. To sleep…”
The captain did their best to comfort the crewmate nestled against them, smoothing circles atop their backpack.
“We could try my quarters. Slightly bigger bed there.”
The moment of hesitance from the offer had Red immediately backpedalling.
“Or- I, uh, could find some cots to set up here-”
“No, no. It's… your room is fine. Just…”
Again, the vents clattered to life and choked out some air conditioned air. The sound had both crewmates jumping on instinct, but once the moment passed, they slowly parted.
“Purps?”
“... Yeah.”
Apparently that had confirmed the discussion, since Purple was now leading Red by the hand down the hall towards the flight of stairs leading to crew quarters. Usually, the wing was off limits during working hours, but since the Ordeal, Red found a way to override those permissions and give them free reign whenever. No point in limiting themselves when it was do or die now, essentially.
Passing by the closed doors of their fallen coworkers was, indeed, not very pleasant. It's why Red had yet to even enter their room since boarding the Skeld for the mission. Green’s door felt particularly painful, knowing that the poor intern had been one of the first to die to it all during the hull breach fiasco with their clearer understanding. The crewmate hadn't even been shown their room before an alien parasite ate their way into their body to begin puppeting it around to slaughter others. A shudder racked Red’s bone just thinking of it.
“Keycard?”
A door not yet familiar to Red stood before them, with Purple turned back towards them in expectation. The captain's name and title were printed into a plastic placard beside the doorframe, marking it as theirs. Red quickly fished their keys out, on which their dorm keycard was attached through a discreet hole in a corner. Said key ring was swiftly discarded by the door once the two were inside, and the lights were flicked on a moment later.
The room was spotless. Uninhabited. The accusing look Purple gave them did not go unnoticed, but it did go unappreciated. Red hung their uniform up on the wall hook secured along the entryway, followed closely by their hat. By the time their crocs were shucked off, Purple was already collapsed into the bed as though it were their own property, uniform flung onto the ground and hat slung onto the bedside table. Red would expect better manners, but chalked most of it up to sheer frustrated exhaustion from their companion’s part. And while Red was not quite the tidiest of crewmates, their pride as a captain prevented them from showing possible disrespect to their uniform. Had it been any of their other outfits, it would likely have joined Purple’s badge on the floor somewhere. Off their thong went to join the pile, however.
At Red’s approach, Purple made minimal effort to make room, yet had the wherewithal to stare Red down in their descent to the mattress. It could barely be considered a queen size, so the spacing would be somewhat tight for them. As if trying not to spook a small animal, Red slowly made their way under the covers. The closeness to the other crewmate had their heart rate picking up. With any luck, it would go unnoticed.
Still, this close to Purple, the captain had a hard time not falling into old habits. A mindless tuck of the blanket over the other’s shoulder, the brush of fingers over Purple’s that rested exactly where they remembered them resting years ago. The emotions surrounding them were sickeningly different. Purple's hand faintly flinched at the touch. But it did not retreat.
Red went for a steadying breath, suddenly acutely aware of the fact that instead of trying to sleep, the two of them were now staring the other down in a wordless standoff. What was it they were both expecting the other to do, Red had no idea. But they knew what their body wanted to do. What their mind screamed at them not to. What their heart, loosened with sleep deprivation, begged them to consider.
Purple seemed guarded. Like they were expecting something. Scared of something. Hoping for something. Red’s soupy mind couldn't parse warning signs from invitations, and frankly they'd never been keen on those deductions in the first place.
So, deciding to full send it and apologize later if necessary, they scooted a little closer and gently pulled Purple’s body towards their own. The guard’s visor widened at the forwardness, but against all of Red’s hazy calculations, they did not resist it. They didn't even rebuke it or move away. The shock warred with the melting relief in Red’s gut as they felt a hand slip over their side, the heartbeat in it shaky and swift. They had been so certain they could never have this again. Not in a million years. Not after what they did. And maybe they never would again after this. Purple was out of their mind with exhaustion. So was Red. Does that make them a bad crewmate? Relishing these moments that they were able to tuck their old friend up into their side? It felt like home. Albeit, one they had vandalized and were tiptoeing through the carnage of, but still home. The guilt for it was already beginning to form seeds, but Red made the executive decision of leaving any post-sleep clarity remorse for Future Red to deal with. For now, they'd soak up this moment. The warmth of someone precious to them safely stored between their hands. Their erratic heartbeat under their fingertips.
Whatever gods exist out there know that Red never fell out of it. Not with someone like Purple. Even when they knew they'd fucked it all to high hell and never had a chance again in their life. Even now, in this stolen moment. Tomorrow will be just as awkward and cold as before. Red dreaded it.
But right now? They could pretend it was all okay. That it had been a pizza party where no one had died. That MIRA was not a comically evil corporation in the business of dealing with murder alien eggs. That everyone was alive and well, peacefully sleeping away in their rooms. That their life partner would greet them as they always had in the morning; grumpy but soft. Another busy day of work ahead, but now alongside someone they could trust more than the stars to shine.
At least, Red ponders as the darkness of fatigue fogs over every sense their body could process, they would have at least one of those things come tomorrow.