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Waking up in the cafeteria, Lime almost expected to find another dead body sitting a few feet away. They could imagine it clearly-- Yellow, a knife through their heart; Cyan, their gem case used to bash their head in; Blue, a scalpel sticking out of the top of their head; Red, broken and battered from unknown weapons; or Green, poor Green, curled up with their guts spilling out in a pile they hastily tried to contain. Yet as they looked around, they still counted five other crewmates, each perfectly fine. Lime was lucky enough to be able to slip out of the pile of sleeping bags and sleeping bodies, though it took a bit of help from the tendrils to properly avoid stepping on anything. At last, they stood by the window, and they finally looked outside.
Just a day ago, they’d been waiting for takeoff, dreading spending any time with the ten other crewmates they’d be stuck with. Life had been normal. Their biggest fears weren’t aliens murdering people, nor a parasite that still resided in their body-- they’d been afraid of trust exercises and icebreakers, gremlins and leprechauns. Things that seemed so small in the face of danger that killed and laughed about it.
Now, staring into space, they finally let themself feel how much had happened.
Five deaths. Two important systems broken. Far too much conversation.
They’d made friends and lost them, somehow started trusting a doctor and a dream-thief, even gotten to know the mates they’d thought they’d hate most. There was a partnership, a party, and even a shower in there too.
…No wonder they felt so tired.
Lime glanced at the crewmates behind them, unsure what to say to any of them if they were to wake up and find them there. Everyone had been so kind.
They couldn’t fathom why.
As they had a hundred times in the past day, they counted the people in the room. One, two, three, four, five, six.
A single crewmate stirred early, and Lime almost jumped into a vent. Instead, they took a seat, turning their back to the window and hoping that it wouldn’t reflect. It was Blue that awoke, blearily standing before brushing off their shirt and putting their coat on the right way again. They were lucky enough to be on the outskirts of the pile, which made it much easier for them to walk to Lime’s side and sit next to them.
“...Are you feeling alright?” Blue asked, ever so soft. Lime shrugged.
“Kinda forgot what that feels like.”
“I… I understand.” The doctor looked down. “...It’s been a lot to take in. I’d usually be able to work much longer, but with the chaos of the night before last…”
“Don’t need to remind me,” Lime recalled the scene-- Just as most of them had been about to sleep, the first asteroid had hit the Skeld, damaging Red’s sleeping quarters. The screaming was one matter, and the number of people that wanted to fight the captain for waking them up was another. Lime had been sitting in the vents far away from it all, but sound carried well enough that they’d heard every swear from Yellow’s mouth and every time Black turned up their music to try to avoid hearing more talking. With the damage expanding to Black and Yellow’s rooms by morning (Though Yellow was already staying with Brown by then), it’d become an even bigger mess, with the doctor having to check up on all three just in case.
And now two of them slept just a few feet away, while the third was nothing but a memory.
“...I still wonder if it could’ve gone differently.”
“Lots of things could’ve gone differently, big dawg.” Lime shrugged. “They didn’t.”
“If you hadn’t fought… If it had been someone who didn’t know what to expect… If someone else was hurt too… We could all be dead right now. It’s a miracle so many of us are alive, and a tragedy so many of us are gone.”
“...Yeah.”
Blue turned to the window, and Lime followed suit. Leaving their backs towards the others felt weird, sure, but… no one else was awake. The threat was gone. They still had clothes on, even without their backpacks. It wasn’t extreme. It wasn’t too much.
…It still felt like a lot.
“You could run. Or kill them,” a quiet voice hissed. Lime hit the side of their head.
“Shaddup.”
“Hm? I didn’t--”
“No, not you, yer fine,” Lime said, waving a hand. “It’s the alien. Still thinks I should kill ya.”
“I never said should. I said ‘could.’”
“Is… Are you used to voices in your head?” Blue asked, softly. “You don’t have to tell me--”
“Heard a few.” Lime didn’t look their way. “Usually not in my head. Most of ‘em shut up pretty quick. I do enough thinkin’, keep an eye on everything… Make sure I keep movin’, and it doesn’t stick with me long enough to matter.”
“I assume someone’s brought up diagnoses before, of course, but… That isn’t important right now.”
Lime said nothing.
“...What’s important is this: Thank you.”
“Ya don’t have to--”
“You saved all of us, Lime.” Blue turned to them, taking their hands, and Lime reluctantly turned. There was a twinkle in Blue’s visor, a bit of hope that hadn’t been there for a while. “You deserve more than just a thank you. I don’t know what would be best, but… If there’s anything you want help with, then please, just ask. Even if it seems small, I’m here.”
“Y-yeah, whatever,” Lime mumbled, pulling their hands away as they flushed. “Ya sure talk a lot. At this rate we’re gonna wake up everyone else.”
“Oh.” Blue drew away, face turning purple with embarrassment. “I-- Of course. My apologies. I… Ah, well, we should let them rest. But I wouldn’t say no to stargazing with you for a while, if you’ll allow me?”
“I ain't the boss of ya.”
“No, I… I simply don't want to push you too much. I know that you and I might not-- I mean, we haven't spent much time together. I… I don't want to push you, that's all.”
By that point, Blue was so red, they could've changed their name.
“I don't mind if you stay.” Lime looked out the window again, leaning on the table slightly. “...Might be nice to hear what you think’ll happen to me. Yer the smart one.”
“It’s rather complex,” Blue admitted. “Alien parasites are… quite a bit out of my range of expertise. Especially a relationship evolving from parasitic to mutualistic. I've only done basic research into the topic, and I doubt the ship would have the materials needed to learn.”
“...You got no clue,” Lime translated. Blue nodded.
“Absolutely none.”
“Good to know it ain't just me, then.”
Blue laughed, another sound that reminded Lime more of choking than laughter, but it didn't matter to them. There was something in that imperfection, something in the way that they finally weren't hiding behind formal words and doctor-patient scripting, something in that look on their face.
…Lime just smiled, and turned back to the stars outside. At least that way, no one would notice they were blushing too.