Work Text:
His head hits the glass. It's painfully cold but refreshing all the while.
It's his turn to watch Rocky sleep, though he's not doing a great job at that.
He's watching the stars instead.
With difficulty, he lifts the quilt above his shoulders.
Then something blue catches his eye. For a heartbeat, hope sparks in him—then abruptly leaves him cold without warning.
That's not Earth, he has to tell himself.
He can't help but feel homesick for a home he barely remembers.
He'd take Earth as a lone speck against the stars if it meant seeing it at all.