#brainylyle

“Pull up! We’re going to crash directly into the planet's surface nose first if you don’t pull up on the sprocking steering-!”

“Querl, shut the grife up!” He snapped, unable to bring himself to feel bad about the harshness when his stress was reaching an all time peak. “I know what I’m doing, so just let me do it!”

“You know how to fly a ship, clearly not how to crash one! Pull the steering up you sprocking fool!” Querl yelled, white knuckling the armrests as he pressed himself back into his seat. Or maybe the increasing pressure from the rapid descent was what was pressing him into his seat. It was forcing Lyle back, that was for sure, and making it all the harder to control the ship the way that he wanted to.

“For grifes sake-!” Lyle shouted through gritted teeth. He pulled up on the steering just as they broke through the atmosphere of the small planet, fire licking up the sides of the ship from the rapid fall. The ship rocked, trembling with the force of their violent entry. As the ground quickly approached them, Lyle threw out his hand on instinct to hold onto Querl's armrest. His fiancé gripped his hand in return, almost painfully tight. Lyle squeezed his eyes shut and prepared himself for impact.

Before they knew it, they were making contact with the planets surface. The belly of the ship hit first with a resounding boom and a loud, screeching crunch of metal on metal. They bounced up out of their seats, bodies jerking harshly against the straps around their chests and waists. They skidded, spinning in disorientating, nauseating circles before the nose of the ship abruptly caught on something and sent them tail over head, the ship rolling out of control. 

Reinforced glass shattered. A hole was torn into the ship and a loud suction of air ripped through the space of the control room. Debris flew erratically around them. Querl screamed. Something warm splashed on his face. Lyle felt a sharp, bright, brilliant pain erupt in his head and side. Everything went dark.

Querl was down on one knee as per earth traditions, a small, ornate box held in his hands as he smiled up at Lyle.

“Oh grief. I really wasn't expecting this.” Lyle said around the sideways palm covering his mouth, trying and failing to hide the radiant smile that lay underneath. His eyes were glossy, his cheeks and ears flushed a bright red.

“What do you say? Will you do me the honours of becoming my husband?” Querl was asking. His eyes looked so incredibly fond and full of love in that moment that it was overwhelming in the joy that it sparked in Lyle's heart.

“Do you even have to ask? Get up here.” Lyle said, grabbing Querl by the wrist and yanking him to his feet. He stumbled a little but his balance stabilized when Lyle threw his arms around his shoulders and drew him in for a kiss. Querl made a soft noise in the back of his throat and returned it. 

When they parted Lyle snatched the ring box out of Querl's hands and slid the ring onto his own finger, admiring the simple silver band. His heart felt too big for his chest, his emotions too big for his heart itself. He was simply bursting with joy.

“Just for the record, though, I totally beat you to proposing if you think about it.” Lyle said, dragging his smile away from his hand and turning a devious one towards his boyfriend - no, his fiancé.

“What?!” Querl squawked, his face twisted up in shock and offense all at one. “You most certainly did not!”

“Well, I at least got a ring on your finger first.” Lyle said, pointing to his own legion flight ring. Querl's face dropped from outrage to a completely blank look of exasperation.

“That does not count and you know it.” He said completely deadpan. “We didn't even like each other back then.

Lyle burst out laughing, doubling over. Above him, Querl let out a huff of laughter as well and cracked a smile. When Lyle stood again, still giggling and wiping little tears from the corner of his eyes, Querl grabbed him by the waist and pulled him in for another kiss.

“You are so impossible sometimes.” But he said it so fondly that Lyle knew it to be a term of endearment.

“Thanks, I try.” Lyle replied. He tried to go for another kiss but Querl pulled away. Lyle furrowed his brow in confusion. Was this how it went? No, it wasn't. He had lived this before. But how?

“Wake up.” Querl told him, face going neutral, his arms dropping to his sides.

“What?” He asked, taking a step back.

“Lyle, wake up!”

Lyle's eyes snapped open and immediately he was choking on smoke and soot. He was hanging upside down, still strapped into his chair with his arms dangling above his head. He could feel wet blood sliding down his temple and into his hairline, as well as staining his side. He quickly looked beside him and found Querl in a similar position, but he was still out cold.

He groaned as he lowered - or was it lifted since he was upside down? - his arms to the buckle and unclasped it. He was just barely able to twist himself midair to land semi-decently. He still hit his side with a bang that echoed throughout the smoldering ship. He let out a hiss of pain as he pushed himself upright. His head swam and he was sent into a fit of coughing once again. He covered his mouth and nose with his head band once his vision stopped spinning and climbed to his feet, moving to get Querl out of his seat as well.

He flew up, thankful for the flight ring that he wished he remembered to use to stop his own fall, and wrapped his arms around Querl's torso under his armpits, undoing the buckle for his seat with clumsy fingers slickened by blood. Instantly his fiancé's weight dropped onto him and he almost lost his grip as the pain in his side flared anew, something tearing deeper. He grit his teeth tightly as he lowered them both to the ground.

Looking this way and that, he located the hole that had been torn into the hull of the ship and dragged Querl towards it. Lyle was panting, out of breath, and dizzy by the time he stepped over the ragged tear in the wall and out into a desert.

Sprawling brown and orange sand as far as the eye could see. There wasn't a single bit of foliage in sight, nor where there any land masses. It was just them and the endless expanse of sand. Two orange suns glared harshly down upon them from the sky up above, the shifting red clouds doing nothing to protect or shade them from its cruel rays. 

He shielded his eyes with one hand as he squinted against the glaring light. He stumbled, dragging Querl with him as he tried to get as much distance between them and the still burning remains of their ship as he could. The sand was soft under his uncoordinated feet, making the journey harder and longer than it needed to be. He stumbled, his feet sinking into the sand down to the ankle with every step he took.

He would have liked to be further away than they ended up, but his body couldn't take it anymore. He was gasping for breath as he abruptly and clumsily dropped to his knees, wincing as he lost his hold Querl on the way down. He wheezed with exertion as he flipped Querl over and checked him for wounds, hoping beyond all hopes that there wouldn't be anything that he had no way of treating.

His usually beautifully bright, jade skin had an ashy grey tint to it, even in the orange light this planet cast. His blonde locks were stained crimson with blood. A quick prodding of his hairline revealed a shallow but long cut going from his temple back towards the crown of his head. Other than some additional scrapes and bruises, he appeared otherwise unharmed.

Lyle sagged with his relief, but it didn't become any easier to breathe. In fact, it was only getting harder. He took a gasping breath, one hand gripping his chest. Was the air here on this planet thinner than he was capable of breathing on his own? Was his suit damaged? Wasn't it meant to be more durable than this? 

He doubled over, hands sinking into the burning hot sand below as he coughed harshly. With hands that felt numb, he pulled the headband off and threw it to the side as the coughs increased in ferocity. Red splattered onto the ground in front of his hands and the last thought he had before his vision faded to black and he crashed down to the ground face first was; well, that's not good.

“Guys, honestly, is this necessary?” Lyle asked with a sigh.

He stood in the center of his room atop a small step stool, arms extended out on either side of him. Zoe kept forcefully straightening his back with an annoyed huff each time he slouched.

“You're going to ruin the measurements if you keep slouching like that.” She grumbled, palm flat against his back to keep him straight. “Is that what you want? You want ill fitting wedding attire? You want to look like a slob for your wedding?”

“Come on, that's a little dramatic. He could show up covered in nass and Querl would still like it.” Ayla said with scoff. Lyle's face twisted up.

“I could literally just go buy something, you guys don't have to do this.” Lyle continued, ignoring their insults(?)

“Have you buy something? When we're here and willing to make your wedding attire?! Don't be ridiculous.” Zoe said. Lyle could hear her rolling her eyes from where she stood behind him 

“Plus, if we left this up to you, you would be wearing a modified super suit and a headband to your own wedding.” Jacques said humorously, not even looking up from where he sat scrolling through a holo pad for inspiration.

Reep and Salu giggled over by the piles of fabrics - all dark colours with light accents per Lyle's request. There were some gazey, lacy bits thrown in there as well, along with some starry, sparkly fabrics. It looked like a fabric craft store had thrown up on his bedroom floor.

“Hey! I rebuke that.” Lyle said, cheeks red. “Even if that would be practical- it is practical, stop laughing - I wouldn't do that. This day is important to me too, you know, and I'm not a teenager anymore! I have some sense of fashion.”

“What I saw you wearing on your last date says otherwise, friend.” Reep piped up, sorting through the pile of dark blues. He occasionally held one up to Lyle, considered it, looked to Salu for a second opinion, and discarded it when they both shook their heads.

“Okay, okay, we can stop talking about this now!” Lyle shouted. The others laughed.

“Seriously, though, Lyle, we want to be doing this for you.” Ayla said. “It's not every day that your friends get married. It should be a special day, and you should have something special to wear made by people who love you.”

Lyle felt a little choked up and he had to hold back some tears. He knew that Luornu, Gates, and Imra were doing this same thing for Querl, and that they were probably giving him the same spiel about loving him. It was hard to wrap his head around, sometimes, just how much their friends loved them. But it made sense, didn't it? They had all been through hell together, so why shouldn't they share in a little joy as well.

“Can you at least incorporate a headband into it?” He asked, clearing his throat when his words were a little too rough. “My forehead's too big to just go out there like that.”

“Don't worry, we've taken into account your massive forehead, we'll figure something out.” Jacques said.

“Massive? Who said anything about massive?!” Lyle exclaimed in mock outrage.

“I grew up with you, man, I know what that thing looks like.” Jacques said with a faux grimace and a mockingly sympathetic hiss between his teeth.

“Why you-!” He leaped off of the stool and lunged for his brother in all but blood, intent on putting him in a choke hold until he apologized. 

“Uh oh, you provoked him.” Reep laughed as Jacques barley managing to roll out of the way with a shriek.

“Come on guys, I was almost done!” Zoe whined.

Lyle paid her no mind as he and Jacques wrestled on the floor, both fighting for the upper hand. He felt no real anger, he had actually never been more happy in his life aside from the day of his proposal. There was so much joy and love in his heart that it was hard to contain it all, so it leaked out in the form of the wide smile on his aching face

“Lyle, come on!” Ayla shouted at him, but she didn't sound like herself at all. She sounded almost like-

Oh, Lyle suddenly thought as he pinned a laughing Jacques to the ground, this already happened, this isn't real either.

“Lyle. Lyle, come on, wake up!”

Lyle peeled his eyes open,  the simple gesture of it feeling like the hardest task he’s ever undertaken with each eyelid feeling as though it was weighed down by a thousand pounds. His skin felt pulled thin and scorched; even blinking tugged sharply on the sunburn he could feel developing. His throat was painfully dry, his mouth sticky and his lips cracked with dehydration. The tips of his fingers and toes tingled unpleasantly with pins and needles.

His vision came into focus and he found Querl’s terrified face hovering above him. Sunburn was beginning to settle onto his features as well, and there were tears running tracks through the blood and dust coating his face. Lyle could feel one of his hands cupping the side of his neck, his hip pressing into Lyle's own.

“Hi.” He croaked dumbly. Querl's features twisted up unpleasantly.

“He says ‘hi’. On death's doorstep and he says hi.” Querl said quietly. Despite his words his body sagged in relief. One of his hands was pressed down on Lyle's side, and strangely enough he couldn't even feel the pressure. 

“ ‘M not on death's doorstep.” The way that he slurred his words together really proved his point that he was a-okay.

“Right, and I'm president of the United Planets." Querl said sarcastically.

“And you never told me?” Lyle asked, pitifully trying to sound humorous.

“Shut it, would you. Sprocking smartnass.” Querl said, no real heat behind the words, a smile fighting to stay off of his face. He lifted his head and looked to his left. Lyle hazily followed his gaze and found the no longer flaming, but burnt beyond recognition, remains of what used to be their ship. Querl bit his lip, which was as cracked as Lyle's felt. They were both dehydrated.

“I wonder if there's anything of use still in there…” Querl muttered to himself.

“Pro’ly not.” Lyle slurred, blinking with monumental effort.

Querl gazed down at him with increasingly worried eyes. He licked a bit of blood from the dry lips he had split open from the biting and pursed them together tightly. He reached up and tucked a strand of Lyle's hair, stiffened with dried sweat, behind his ear. 

“I'm going to go check anyway, do not close your eyes, do you understand me?” Querl instructed. When Lyle took too long to answer and his hazy eyes drifted away, Querl grabbed his chin and forced their eyes to meet. “Do you understand, Lyle? You can't let yourself fall asleep, alright?”

“Alright…” Lyle muttered with a sigh. Querl was always so demanding, so bossy. He was lucky that Lyle liked it.

“Alright?” Querl emphasized.

“Alright.” Lyle grumbled.

Querl smoothed his hair out of his face and pecked him on the forehead. Lyle watched him go, disappearing into the same hole Lyle had dragged him out of not too long ago. Then, his eyes slipped shut.

“I just feel bad, you know?” Lyle stated, leaning his cheek into his palm. A fork was held between his fingers, the prongs tapping at his lips thoughtfully. A sweet taste lingered on his tongue, indistinguishable at this point after what felt like hours of eating sweet things. More specifically, after hours of taste testing different wedding cakes.

“You shouldn't.” Querl stated firmly around a mouthful of cake. He was enthusiastically eating the rest of the coffee and vanilla bean flavored cake, and Lyle couldn't help but smile warmly at the sight. He knew that was likely the cake they would end up choosing, but he also knew that they would try a dozen more cakes before the evening was through because Querl wanted to be sure that they chose the perfect one for the occasion.

“Well I do. It's supposed to be our wedding, and I feel like I'm hijacking it by having it be entirely Terran customs we're following.” Lyle explained. He stabbed a piece of neon blue cake and took a bite. It wasn't very good but he took another anyway. As much as he liked it, blue raspberry just wasn't a flavour that belonged in a cake. 

“Colu has no customs worth following. All of them are heavily entrenched in bureaucracy, none of it is fun and all of it is overbearingly boring. Now that I think about it, I'm not sure they would even recognize our marriage... In any case, I was hardly raised by them. I'm too far removed to care about any of their customs, let alone any of the ones that have to do with us and our future together. I don't want them to have a say in any of it.” Querl said with a long sigh. He slid the blue cake away from Lyle and towards himself, taking a bigger bite than Lyle had. He frowned at the taste, clearly also displeased, but he ate the rest anyway. 

“Alright,” Lyle said, leaving it at that. If Querl had already made up his mind on the matter, who was he to argue with him?

“Have you decided on a best man?” Querl asked past a mouthful of strawberry cake, which he was eating rather enthusiastically. 

“Jacques and Reep are going to duel for it.” Lyle said very seriously, trying to nab a bite of the strawberry cake as Querl put an arm down on the table to block his reach with a sickening level of greed.

“They’re not seriously, are they?” Querl asked, eyebrows raised.

“No, they are. We’ve got a date set up and everything. Best out of three sparring matches, winner gets to be my best man. Well, that’s what they think anyway. I already told them they can both do it but….” Lyle trailed off and shrugged. Querl laughed, hiding his face in his shoulder, Lyle took that moment to jab the cake and steal a bite while his fiancé wasn’t looking. “What about you?”

“The triplets. Gates was offered a place as well, but he is of the opinion that marriage is pointless and a waste of time. It’ll be a feat to get him to show up at all.” Querl said, shaking his head.

“He’ll show.” Lyle assured him. He licked the taste of strawberry from the inside of his mouth and hummed. He liked that one the best so far. Perhaps a half and half coffee-vanilla and strawberry cake then. “Even if he's not part of the wedding party, he’s your best friend and he knows it would mean a lot to you to have him there.”

“I wouldn’t want him to feel forced into anything he doesn't want to do.” Querl said, moving onto a square of dubiously green cake that even he hesitated before stabbing into. After trying it, though, he quickly cut off a piece and held it out to Lyle to try.

“He won’t feel forced.” Lyle promised, accepting the offered cake. As it turned out, the green cake was kiwi flavoured and quite good. Strawberry and Kiwi didn’t sound too bad of a cake. They might have to drop the coffee part, though. “He’ll grumble about it, but he’s happy for you. I bet he just wishes you had better taste in men.”

“Hey! Watch your mouth. That’s my fiancé you’re talking about.” Querl said, jabbing his fork scoldingly in Lyle’s direction.

Lyle laughed and took another bite of cake, but instead of the sweet kiwi tang from before there was just ash and an indescribable, foul flavour. His tongue felt thick in his dry mouth. He tasted an undertone of copper. 

Right, he thought bitterly as he set down his fork and closed his eyes.

He came to with a slap to the face. He groaned, turning his head away from the sting of the pain as he tried to peel his eyes open. They ached, but at the same time they didn’t. It was less of a pain and more of an exhaustion that he had long since come to associate with the feeling of dying from his years of legion work and the dozens of near death experiences he had under his belt. Not good. Not good at all.

When the cotton cleared from his head just a little and he managed to pull his eyes open enough to see Querl’s enraged face he had just enough energy to feel guilty as Querl’s panicked rambling suddenly filled his ears. 

“I told you to keep your eyes open, you sprocking nass!” He was saying. His hands were covered in blood, a smear of it on his lips and across his cheek joining the blood that was already on his face.

“Wha’ happened?” Lyle asked, reaching to clumsily try and wipe away the blood marring his beautiful face.

Querl grabbed his hand aggressively, but somehow still gently, and forced it back down by his side. “It’s yours, you sprocking moron.” He said, irritated.

“Oh.” He said dumbly, closing his eyes. He whined when Querl slapped his cheek again and forced his eyes open to glare at him.

“Don’t give me that look. You aren’t allowed to die on me, not yet.” Querl snapped. “I found a compression pad, but you lost a lot of blood and I can’t tell if you have any internal wounds. Do you think you can sit up? I found water, I want you to drink some.”

Lyle’s head spun at the deluge of information and then he nodded clumsily. With Querl’s help, he was able to sit up just enough to have some of the warm, stale water. It tasted like pure gold on his parched throat, clearing away the dust and lingering sourness. He wanted to take big, greedy gulps, but he had just enough lucidity to know that wouldn’t be wise. So, he allowed himself a few small sips before he was being laid back down. He felt winded just from that little bit of movement, wheezing with great strain as he gripped his chest weakly.

“Just breathe.” Querl said softly, and Lyle listened to the best of his abilities. “You- we just have to hold on until help comes to find us. You set off the emergency beacon, right?”

“Mhm.” Lyle hummed, struggling to breath through the pain in his chest. Fuzzy dots swam in his vision, black creeping into the edges.

“Great, then just keep holding on until they track us down. You can do that right?” 

Against his will, Lyle drifted off again before he ever got to respond.

“I just can’t believe I’m actually doing this, you know?” Lyle said.  He had his knees pulled up to his chest, his chin on his folded arms,

It was the night of his and Querl’s joint bachelors party, and he and Jacques were sitting together on the roof of the legion’s earth headquarters, where the festivities were taking place inside. Lyle had gone invisible and slipped out quietly, attempting to have a silent crisis where it wouldn’t bother anyone else or ruin the fun. Of course, Jacques, familiar with his habits, followed him out and perfectly predicted where he would go.

“Doing what? Getting married?” Jacques asked. His own legs were extended out in front of him, his arms braced behind him palms down as he gazed up at the stars. “It kinda felt like this was the inevitable ending for you and Querl. I mean, everyone knows how disgustingly in love you two are. It’s almost obnoxious.”

“I meant building a life.” Lyle replied.  “I mean, back when we were kids working with Earthgov, we were basically taught to remove everything about ourselves, to erase anything that could be used against us. We weren't supposed to be people. I never really thought I would have something like this, especially not after you…’died’. I thought I was content to spend the rest of my life alone and invisible, because I thought it would be safer that way. But now I… I have a family. I have you back. I’m getting married in a month. I never pictured something like this for myself.” 

He turned his head up to look at the stars himself. It had been thousands of years since Earth had fixed its light pollution, and he couldn’t imagine what it would be like to look up to the sky and not see the beauty of the sprawling cosmos before him. He felt like those skies, once polluted but now made clean. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to look at his life and not have his loved ones there, shining brightly and lighting up his world. That thought had scared him more than he thought it would.

He shakily inhaled and turned his face away from the stars. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and released the breath he had been holding. Jacques put a hand on his back, rubbing in slow circles.

“I understand better than you know,” He said, “Before you guys got me out of Earthgov’s hold, I thought I’d never get to live a normal life again. I thought I’d live and die as their puppet. But look at us, we both got out even if it took a few years and a lot of pain. And you’re getting married! So stop being so down. This is a time to be happy.”

Lyle took another deep breath to calm himself and then raised his head to smile at Jacques. 

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Jacques climbed to his feet and held out a hand to Lyle, who readily accepted it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

“I told you already before; a coffee, kiwi, strawberry cake can totally work!” Jenni insisted. 

Lyle blinked and looked around the kitchen, his eyebrows drawn in confusion. In his hands was a whisk, below him a bowl of cream. He shook his head and got back to whisking.

“And I believe you, trust me I do.” Lyle said, “It’s just that we want the food to be coherent on their own. So, a layered strawberry and kiwi cake, and then the coffee cakes will be snacks on the sweets table.”

“I think that plan makes perfect sense.” Imra said. She was piping frosting onto a tray of cupcakes. Some of it had gotten on her face and in her hair, how, Lyle didn’t know. She rubbed at the white frosting with her shoulder, only succeeding in smearing it across her pink skin.

“Yeah, but where's your sense of adventure?” Jenni asked with a wistful  sigh.

Lyle opened his mouth to make a rebuttal and

“Couldn’t you have found a more sensible partner, Lyle? I mean, this one comes with so much, well, baggage." His mother said as she followed him into his bedroom. 

He breathed deeply through his nose to ward off his seething rage. He hadn’t seen his mother in nearly a decade, and here she was trying to dictate who he did and didn’t marry when she hadn't even been invited to the event. After ambushing him in his own apartment unannounced no less! He tried to ignore her as he dug through his closet for something to wear after his shower, but the jab at Querl’s past was too much to brush off.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” He said with the very same faux politeness that she had taught him to use when he was just a child. It was one of the only things she had ever given him.

“It is my business because I am your mother!” She said, affronted.

“Some mother you are, you barely had a hand in raising me at all.” He snapped at her, forcefully closing his closet with a bang. She jumped back, eyes wide with shock and anger.

A shouting match broke out almost instantly, their words overlapping as blood pressures rose to great heights. At some point, she slapped him, but he barely felt the sting of it over the pounding of his heart and the rush of blood through boiling veins.

“You ungrateful little-!”

“What do I even have to be ungrateful for-?!”

“Querl, come to bed.” Lyle called out, voice groggy with sleep. It was the middle of the night, the only light in the room coming from the floating lamp at Querl’s desk.

“I will, just as soon as I finish these notes.” Querl called out softly to him, not looking up from his work.

“That will take all night, just come and get some rest. I’m lonely over here without you.” Lyle said. 

“I think you’ll survive a little bit of solitude.” Querl dismissed. Despite his words, though, he set his pen down, stood, and cracked his back before making his way over to the bed.

“Rude, “ Lyle pouted as he opened up his arms to accept Querl into his embrace. He kissed Querl’s temple as his fiance let out a content sigh. Lyle snuggled into the warmth and let himself fall asleep almost instantly. He still couldn’t believe that

“Do you really want to go on this mission?” Jazmin asked skeptically as she handed Lyle the mission report. “Your wedding is in just a few days, what if you don’t make it back in time?”

“Come on, me and Brainy have been at this for years now. I think we can handle one little mission together to gather some fungal cultures from a nowhere planet that has no dangerous flora or fauna.” Lyle said with a scoff and a roll of his eyes.

“I mean, yeah, you’re capable. I just know how both of you are.” Jazmin said, eyes now alight with amusement. “One interesting bit of science we didn’t account for and you two are there studying until you’ve overstayed and missed your own wedding.”

“Oh, come on, sprock off.” Lyle said, smacking Jazmin in the shoulder with the papers. Jazmin raised her hands in defeat and laughed.

“Hey! I’m just saying!” She defended himself.

“Yeah, well say less.” Lyle retorted.

“In all seriousness, though, you two be careful. I’ve heard rumors of a shifting debris field in the system.

“Seriously, Jazmin, we’ll be fine.” Lyle said seriously. “You worry too much.”

“Someone has to do the worrying around here.” Jazmin said, wagging her finger in Lyle’s face. Lyle furrowed his brow, feeling off.

“We…already had this conversation, didn’t we?” Lyle asked. 

“Yes,” Jazmin said, eyes mournful.

For what felt like the millionth time, Lyle opened his eyes to see that burning, orange sky above them. He looked to his side with great effort.  On his right lay the empty water bottle and some packaging for the compress patch on his side, along with a horrific stain of blood that spread out from under him. On his left lay Querl, curled up into his side with his head resting on Lyle’s chest. Beyond Querl's shoulder, he could see scraps and salvaged tools, clueing him into the fact that he had been trying to make something that could help them survive or send for help. It was obvious that he had given up and lost hope long ago.

How long had they been here? He couldn’t be sure anymore. He didn’t think this planet even had a day-night cycle so there was no way of telling. It could have been days, or weeks. Certainly not longer than that, but it felt like an eternity.

“We’re going to die here, aren’t we?” Querl said. His voice was rough and barely above a whisper. The wind blew past them, dragging on their painfully burnt skin as it went. Lyle blinked some sand out of his eyes.

“They could still find us.” He croaked back, voice equally as rough.

“You know that they won’t.” Querl said. He fisted his hand in the fabric of Lyle’s suit and he felt hot tears soak into his collarbone. He wanted to scold him about wasting water, but he knew that Querl was probably right. It wouldn’t matter how much water he wasted. They were going to die out here. Lyle himself already felt scraped raw and worn out. There wasn’t much they could do now but be there for each other until the very end.

“It’s not fair.” Querl sobbed into his chest. “It just isn’t fair. After all we’ve been through, something as trivial as an asteroid field is what finally does us in? Why aren’t we allowed even the barest hint of happiness? We were supposed to get married. We were supposed to spend the rest of our lives together.”

Lyle fumbled to put his hand on his own chest, struggling to grasp at Querl’s hand. When his fiancé realized what he was doing, he quickly gripped Lyle's hand and squeezed his fingers tightly, as if he was afraid to let go.

“We’re still spending the rest of our lives together, it’s just that…We have less time than we thought we would.” Lyle said past the whistling wheeze in his chest.

“It’s just not fair.” Querl whispered again, and Lyle found that he couldn’t find it in himself to refute that. It wasn’t fair. None of it was. The indignity of it burned in his chest before fizzling out. He just didn’t have the energy to waste on being angry or sad anymore.

“How did you imagine our wedding going?” He asked instead.

“I imagined you tripping on your train when entering the dance hall.” Querl said very seriously. Lyle choked on a laugh that turned into a wheezing cough. 

“What?” He wheezed. “Why?”

“It…helped me not to be so nervous, imagining something silly like that happening. You would trip, then Mr and Mrs. Foccart would help you stand up right, and you would turn to me with your face red from embarrassment, but still so happy to see me on the other end of the dance floor.” Querl explained. Lyle chuckled, blinking the black dots out of his vision. “You would be invisible minus your clothes for the entire first dance because you would get shy. You would say something stupid and I would get angry, but it would make me want to kiss you even more.”

“And then we’d dance to one of my corny earth songs.” Lyle said. “While everyone watched, we would dance, but I wouldn’t be invisible because...because we’d be in our own world and nothing but us would matter. You’d still step on my feet like you’ve done a mi-million times before even though I know you know all the dances, and I’d tease you about it.”

“And I’d stomp on your toes harder out of spite.” Querl said with a scoff of a laugh, which got a giggle out of Lyle.

He could feel his energy dwindling, his body growing cold despite the heat of the burning planet. Breathing was becoming harder by the minute, and his hands and feet were fully numb at this point. His vision was tunneling, his hearing fading in and out like he was putting on and taking off a pair of noise cancelling headphones.

“Both…Both of our social batteries. “ He paused to take a shaky breath. “Would die long before the end of the wedding and….:

“And we would ditch it before it was over.” Querl finished for him. “All of those idiots would have still been celebrating our union and we wouldn’t even be there anymore.”

“Where would we go?” Lyle asked breathlessly. His vision was fully black now, and he was trying not to panic about it. All that was left was his slowing heartbeat thumping in his ears, his own whistling breath, and Querl’s soft voice in the darkness.

“We’d find somewhere outside where there were no other people, and we would dance again. Just you and me. Maybe you would hum one of your songs, and it would be a simple dance, no stepped on toes involved. Then we’d lay in the grass, count the stars, and have a sappy heart to heart about our future together. How does that sound?

.

.

.

“…Lyle?”

“....yeah…i’m here…” He whispered. He was so cold.

“How does it sound?” Querl prompted.

“It sounds…wonderful…” He answered. “Querl?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t go.” He pleaded

“I’ll stay right here until the very end. The rest of our lives, that’s what we said isn’t it? I’ll stay, however long that is and more.” Querl reassured him.

“I love you, Querl.”  He breathed out with the last of his strength. 

“I love you, Lyle.” Querl said, his voice fading out as Lyle faded away.

Through the dark abysm came a rush of frenzied, burning air over his entire body, dust whipping around him. He heard a flurry of screaming voices, a gentle murmur of reassurance. He felt a burst of energy and mind numbing pain. More darkness. A soft feeling surrounding his body, a pleasant warmth weighing him down. Hands in his hair, fingers interlaced in his own. Laughter. Crying. Annoyed exclamations. A voice, one he would be able to pick out of the overlap of noises and sensations without fail every time.

“Lyle?”