#captain! reader

When the light around you faded and your feet hit solid ground, you opened your eyes into a terrifyingly quiet new world. You were in front of a window, you could tell that much. But the sky was… wrong. Sparse. And the waves rising to meet the horizon, they felt off somehow. The warp crystal was your best source of light as your eyes locked on the view of the cosmos, but the strangeness nagged at you, set your hairs on end. 

You took slow, measured steps down the dim hallways until you reached an open door. It revealed a small submersible. Worn, stained red from rust, you supposed. Its entrance was open and a sense of urgency pulled you in, prompted you to climb inside. You could feel what a bad idea it was, but something in you couldn’t fight it. 

As soon as your boots hit the metal flooring, the world stuttered around you and suddenly a man was sitting in the chair at the front of the sub. Your eyes tracked his motions, adjusting the controls and muttering to himself. A low groan sounded outside the walls of the sub and though you knew what you’d see, your eyes darted around anyway. 

You were sealed inside. Of course.

When your weight shifted back, the metal beneath you creaked sharply and the man whirled around. You locked eyes, two caged animals suddenly thrust into the same cramped enclosure.

“Who the hell are you?”

His tone was sharp, but he made no move towards you. There was a hesitant glint in his eyes. You shifted your weight onto your back foot, tensed for a fight if one proved to be inevitable. 

“What is this place?”

The man narrowed his eyes at you. His clothes were a patchwork mess of different textures and colors. A leather sheath was strapped to his shoulder. His dark hair framed his face, the locks falling in loose waves. 

“I asked you first.”

“I’m a… traveler. I lost my ship, I’m trying to get back to it.”

“Well, this is a ship. Pretty shitty one, though.”

Your focus finally drifted from him for a moment to properly take in your surroundings. It was dim, with a speaker on the wall and a glowing button behind you. The pipes were almost sizzling when condensation dripped onto them. 

It was hot in here. 

Comparing it to that dying star you wound up in, feeling your flesh melt from your bones, would be a bit dramatic. But you figured you’d earned a bit of dramatic license by now. 

“Why’s the porthole covered?”

The man’s brow furrowed at you. 

“Uh… the pressure? It would break the glass.”

“How far down are we?”

He helplessly gestured at the gauge to the left of the closed porthole. 

“There aren’t numbers. I’m just supposed to avoid the red.”

The marker was barely hovering above the edge of the red.

You huffed. Figures.

Without thinking, your fingers drifted to the glowing button. The man didn’t try to stop you, so you pressed in and a light flashed.

“Geh.” You blinked hard and stared at the image impressed on the wall in front of you. “What’s all that shit?”

“Beats me. I’m just here to take some pictures and serve my time. Then I’m free. That was the deal.”

What kind of fucked up sentence was he serving?

You’d met more than your share of criminals. Hell, in a lot of worlds, you were one yourself. But this was a whole different kind of punishment system. What could they hope to accomplish with this?

You pressed the button again and braced for the flash of light. You’d never seen a camera like this before, the images almost felt like a topographical map more than a light exposure. You could almost swear you’d feel the ridges of each shape if you just reached out a little further…

“You said you lost your ship. Which station was it?”

“The Invincible II.”

The man tilted his head in thought, then shook it. 

“Never heard of it. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, a lot of the people I meet these days haven’t.”

You both stared at the image as it disappeared, leaving the sub in dim light once again.

“How’d you wind up here? I’m welded in, there shouldn’t-”

“Sorry, did you say welded in?”

He gave a pitiful nod. 

“It was the most secure way to travel. This way the blood can’t get in. Theoretically.”

Blood?

You stepped toward the front of the sub and the small light above the porthole. Your fingers drifted forward and slid down the metal. They came away red. 

“What the hell…?”

A clicking noise started up and your head darted around looking for the source. Your unexpected companion tensed up. 

“Hold on to something.”

You listened without hesitation, dropping to one knee and gripping the control panel while the man pressed himself against the wall and shut his eyes tight. A deep, horrible moan surrounded you, drowning out even your thoughts for several tense moments. The sub shook as something gargantuan rolled past in the sea. The blood. 

What the hell is this place?

You didn’t dare move until the clicking sound stopped. Your eyes slid up the wall in front of you and settled on the sealed porthole. The man behind you cleared his throat and moved to one side, clearly waiting for you to back up from the controls. 

“Do I want to know what that was?”

“Probably not. I don’t.”

You shook your head and looked down at the warp crystal in your palm. This damn thing just never could give you a break. 

“I’m Simon, by the way.” Your focus snapped over to him. “Figured if we’re stuck in here together somehow… might as well tell you my name.”

“I’m- uh… Most people just call me Captain.”

His brow furrowed. Someone of your apparent status would typically be given a hell of a lot more recognition than just a title. But, he supposed, someone of your status also wouldn’t be down here with a convict like him. 

You were quiet after that, caught up in your head. Mark wasn’t here. Your ship wasn’t here. This place was some kind of hell, that much was clear. A blood ocean? Welding someone into a sub to explore it? With some kind of beast lurking out there?

Until you found a way out or the crystal sent you hurtling through the multiverse again, you would play its game. You had no other choice.

With a sigh of resignation, you leaned against the pipes running the length of the sub and looked over the controls. 

“So, what are you taking pictures of?”

Simon handed you a page of what appeared to be a scan of the area, with a few points marked with coordinates. 

“Whatever’s at those spots. I just have to get those pictures, then my sentence is considered served and I’ll be a free man again.”

You nodded as your eyes flickered between the scan and the coordinates on the controls. He was getting close to a point. 

Simon maneuvered the ship in silence, allowing you to take charge in conversation if you saw fit. You wandered back toward the camera and pressed it again while Simon watched the numbers tick closer and closer to what he needed. The flash of light came, and you stared hard at the vague shapes in the dark void. 

You felt the sub come to a stop and Simon double checked the numbers again. 

“Okay, press that button for me again.”

You did so. 

“I don’t know what the hell I’m looking at.”

“Neither do I. Just have to hope it’s what the COI wants.”

COI. New name. He’s not a prisoner of the woman chasing you across the cosmos then. Or maybe that was just a division of the United Space Authority. Either way, they were unlikely to be friends of yours. 

You had little more to do than take photos for Simon while he maneuvered the sub around. In the quiet moments, he asked questions, making it clear he didn’t feel entitled to a response. There weren’t a lot of answers you could offer without getting into the whole wormhole issue, but you tried. Awful as this place was, it was indeed much calmer than what you’d been through so far with Mark. 

When the speaker crackled to life, you gestured for Simon not to mention you. The woman on the other end spoke with bitterness and vitriol as she gave Simon new orders. He tried to defend that he’d done as she ordered; he’d managed to get photos of the skeleton down below. Now the rug was being pulled and he was brought up with it. 

You ducked back and pressed yourself to the dark computer terminal to hide from view when the woman wiped off the porthole window with a dirty rag. Simon begged to be let out, to at least get answers, but she only said a tool was being attached to get a sample from the bones. It didn’t sit right with you, but there was nothing you could do about it. 

When she turned away to bark out more orders, Simon growled in frustration and lunged toward the back wall to slam his hand on the button. You reached out for his hand, but there was no stopping him, at least not without revealing yourself. The flash caught your attention and your stomach dropped at the stark image of skeletons standing on the metal scaffolding around the sub. 

The woman was back at the porthole screaming at Simon in an instant, then before you knew it you were thrown back down into the sea. You both lifted in the air at the sudden drop, slamming face first into the metal grates on the floor when you hit the blood. 

Your eyes drifted to Simon as a man came over the speaker, apologizing for the woman’s attitude and in the same breath telling him he deserved it. There hadn’t been any way for him to have known that camera was an X-ray. 

You stifled a pained groan and checked the device on your wrist. It was scratched up, but appeared functional. If you pressed it now, you could probably leave. 

But he needed you. Or maybe you needed him. 

You had spent so long already with wild characters and in the worst of situations. Simon was a desperately needed breath of fresh air. Maybe you were the same for him, maybe your presence was a comfort to him here. 

You slowly rolled over and curled up on the floor, knees drawn into your chest. This place sucked. There was no doubt about that. You had to get out. And you couldn’t leave Simon here. 

“Simon…”

You only dared to speak once the radio was silent for several minutes. 

He tilted his head toward your voice. 

“We can’t do this. I can’t do this.”

The ship stopped and Simon turned to face you. 

“I don’t like this either, Captain. But we can end it once we have the sample.”

“There’s no guarantee-” 

You stopped at the look in his eyes. Simon was desperate. You’d heard his outburst. How many times will you use me… You’d been a pawn before. You’d been cheated, lied to, left behind. You’d never let it break you. You couldn’t be the one to break him now. 

“I just- we need to be very careful here. Those people… they aren’t interested in keeping you alive beyond making you their errand boy down here. They don’t even know I exist at all. That makes me effectively worthless.”

You weren’t sure what being careful even meant down here. He was instructed to ram into the thing you found to get a sample. Based on the X-ray image from above the waves, you had a sickening suspicion it was more than just bones you were looking for now. 

Simon did his best to keep a clear head despite the growing heat and the mounting terror. You were forced to remove your helmet and your gloves, an uncomfortable process with the warp crystal sticking out of your hand. 

Simon tried not to marvel at the condition of your clothes, made of fibers he only vaguely recalled and stitched so well he couldn’t even see the seams. He couldn’t comprehend how you could think the COI would consider you worthless if you had been given resources like that.

You stayed near the camera, trying to expel from your mind the image of the cracking glass as Simon had raised the porthole cover. The spurt of blood across his face. The unsympathetic voice over the speaker, no better than the woman before him. 

When you allowed yourself to explore your limited surroundings for a moment, you noticed a scrap of paper sticking out of a small panel. Without considering the potential outcomes, you pulled at it and revealed a small pendant with a sprout preserved inside. 

You brought it to Simon’s attention, stepping back and minding the controls while he studied the pendant. A part of you wanted to know what the pendant meant, but you hardly felt right to ask. The people up above, they’d talked about Filament Station, about how it was Simon’s fault; the Convict’s fault. About there being so few of them left. And the sky, it had looked so empty, so wrong. 

“Simon…”

He snapped up from looking at the preserved sprout to stare at you. 

“I have a way out of here. I think.”

He tilted his head and you were struck with the memory of Chica, a treasured crew member of the Invincible II. 

You let go of the controls, leaving the sub still, buffeted only slightly by the waves. Keeping some distance, you raised your palm to show Simon the warp crystal and explained what little you understood about it. 

“It’s definitely not perfect, but it’s a way out of here.”

Simon thought about it, his dark eyes swimming with thoughts. 

A way out. An escape. 

No execution, no COI, no Eden.

“Where would it take us?”

“With any luck, back to my ship. I have a crew there. You could join us, help us with the colony.”

His brow furrowed. 

“Colony?”

“Well, yeah. It would be our first, Mark- he’s my head engineer- calculated the trip and everything, the planet is supposed to be beau-”

“Planet? What are you talking about?”

You paused. Despite yourself, your mind had flooded with images of Simon working alongside you and Mark and the rest of the crew. He’d fit in, maybe. He’d be free, you’d find an end to the loop and everything would work out. 

“We don’t have a name for it, but-”

“Captain. There are no more planets.”

You stared at him. That couldn’t be right. How far into the future was this world if planets had collapsed or become uninhabitable to the point of giving up?

“That’s insane. Of course there are planets, Simon. The Invincible II is headed for one.”

Simon shook his head slowly, his eyes locked on you. 

“I don’t understand where you’re from or how. But since the Quiet Rapture there aren’t any planets. There aren’t even any habitable moons left. Just this. The blood ocean.”

“What the hell is the Quiet Rapture?”

Simon watched for a moment, almost daring you to laugh and say you were messing with him. It couldn’t be possible for you not to know. There was nothing else but this. Nothing but the blood ocean and the wreck of Filament Station and the guilt of the killer he’d become.

When you just stared right back, Simon took a deep breath to steady himself and told you the sad and lonely tale of the Quiet Rapture.

You sat down hard and dropped your head into your hands. What sick cosmic joke was this? What entity of suffering had overtaken this universe? Why was this all that remained?

You had no time to consider it further. The clicking noise came back fast, offering barely enough time to hold on and none to make a plan of any kind. Despite your grip, you and Simon were both thrown from your feet and into the wall, the sub rattling hard as whatever traversed the blood ocean came back for you. 

A deep part of you, more creature than human, latched onto the deep bellowing tone of the unseen beast as it circled you and then left. It was toying with you and you weren’t having it. On instinct, you lunged at the wall and pounded your fist against it in rage. Nothing had killed you and stuck yet; this would be no different. 

Simon watched on silently. You had every right to be angry right now. He’d been angry, and now two people were doomed to a radiated death. At least there was nothing you could do down here that would have consequences for anyone above the surface. 

When you steadied your breathing and pressed your hands tight together to work out some pressure, you moved over to the controls and righted the chair. 

“Let’s do this shit. Once the CIA or whatever is saved, I’m using this crystal and getting both of us out of here. You’re getting your freedom, Simon. One way or another.”

Simon nodded once in agreement and settled in the chair. You stood beside him with the map in hand, reading off coordinates to get back to the creature you’d found before. 

This sample had better be worth it.

Of course, when you reached the location, nothing was there. 

“Uh, Simon?”

Simon turned in the chair to look back at you. You pressed the camera again.

“The thing is gone.”

“Gone?”

Simon joined you, leaning in until your shoulders nearly touched. You pressed the camera for a third identical, blank image. 

“Shit.”

You triple checked the coordinates. This was supposed to be the right place. Your stomach sank as your suspicion solidified into a certainty. 

“Simon, I’ve been thinking.”

He hummed softly as he turned the sub to one side and took another picture. 

“When the camera went off above the surface-” Your words were stilted; you didn’t want to remind him what it caused. “-those people looked like skeletons. But they weren’t. This thing looked like a skeleton too. So what if…”

He shuddered at the thought when it hit him. 

“No. It’s a skeleton.”

“Simon-”

“It has to be around here somewhere.”

You let him maneuver the sub around the area, clearing sections bit by bit. The cramped space kept getting hotter. The small beads of blood kept seeping in, trailing down the walls. You removed your flight suit halfway, zipping it down and tying the sleeves around your waist. Simon tied half his hair back from his face with his headband, allowing you to help when it fell out for the third time. 

“Aha! There it is.”

You tilted your head at the image of the skeleton. Because it had to be a skeleton. But it was wrong. Different than before. Why couldn’t you put your finger on it?

“Simon, it… doesn’t it look wrong?”

He tilted his head to match yours and squinted as he pressed the button for another image. 

“Huh.”

A sinking feeling struck your gut and you stepped away from the camera. Simon turned a bit to watch as you pulled your hands to your chest, pressing at the crystal in your palm. The staticky pain helped you stay centered, kept you from the spiral you lived at the edge of. 

“Simon. We need to leave. I mean it-”

Another moan swept over you, mingling with the clicking warning of the sub’s sensors as you braced against the metal beneath your feet. It wasn’t enough, and you tumbled backward, slamming into the wall behind you. The hot metal and nearly boiling trails of blood burned into your exposed skin, forcing a pained cry from your lips. 

When the unseen attacker stopped for a moment, Simon seized the chance to rush towards you and try to check on you. You hissed as you forced yourself one step forward, away from the unforgiving wall of iron. 

The voice came back over the speaker, demanding an explanation for the delay. Simon tried to answer, tried to explain that the skeleton had moved, that it seemed to be missing half its jaw. The woman only shouted at him to hurry up. 

Then all hell broke loose. 

As you attempted to right yourself with Simon’s hand hovering a few inches shy of supporting you, the warning system cried out again and the whole ship tilted violently. You hit your head again, blacking out for a few seconds before coming to in total darkness. 

You were sprawled out on the grated flooring at the back of the sub. Your head ached and the warp crystal pulsed, providing only the barest light. Simon had landed closer to the controls. He hadn’t moved yet. 

You slowly moved to your knees, pressing one hand against your temple in a meaningless effort to quell the headache making itself at home. You braced yourself against the wall, setting off the camera as you struggled to stand. In the brief light, you could see Simon rise and fall with each breath, allowing you the smallest comfort in knowing he was still alive. 

“...Simon…”

You took slow, uncertain steps toward him. As carefully as you could manage, you dropped to your knees beside him. One hand reached out and settled on his shoulder. 

“Simon.”

He jerked back and slowly blinked his eyes open. Your eyes caught again on the pendant now wrapped around his wrist. It was undamaged, remarkably. 

“What happened?” He groaned more than spoke.

“We’re lost, I think. And the power’s out.”

You held out a hand and braced as Simon pushed to his feet and checked the controls. You were right; the display was dark. No voice came over the radio. 

“Well, this is a problem. You think there might be something in the manuals?”

You stared at the vague shadow of him in the dark. 

“There are manuals?”

“Yeah. They’re in a- hold on,” Simon leaned down and felt around, standing back up with a bag in hand, “they’re right here.”

“You’re telling me there has been a stack of manuals here the whole time? And you haven’t read them?”

“That’s correct.”

In a flash of irritation, you thought of Mark. Then your heart seized and you remembered why you were here. You needed to go back to him. To your ship. 

You snatched the bag from Simon and sat down, crossing your legs and balancing the manuals in your lap. You flipped through each one, holding your glowing palm just above the text to read it. Once you felt you had a solid idea of what to do, you handed them off to Simon and felt along the floor for a panel. 

It took some doing and a long string of curses, but you got the power back on. 

“Shit!”

You popped up from the maintenance tunnel and stared at Simon, who stood at the controls with a sour expression. 

“What now?”

“We’re- damn it, we’re so far off…”

You hauled yourself out of the floor and stood up, brushing your hands off on your increasingly dirty flight suit. The metal creaked quietly with each step you took to join Simon at the controls. He was right, you were way off. With the chain undoubtedly broken, you had little chance of finding your way back to the tugboat. 

You ran a hand over your hair to keep it clear of your face and huffed out a deep breath. 

“Okay, the way I see it we have three choices. Give up and die,” Simon snorted derisively, “try to navigate our way back,” you pressed your eyes shut tight, then forced them open and looked down at the warp crystal, “or we use this and get the hell out of here.”

Simon stared at the crystal as well, his fingers hovering barely an inch away. Your hands were shaking slightly, but you did your best to still them. The glow seemed to grow for a moment, then dimmed as Simon drifted away. 

“We’re smart. We could find a way back.”

“They almost certainly think you’re dead, Simon.”

They want him dead. You’re sure of that. So is he. 

Still. 

“Is this thing a guarantee?”

“It’ll get us out. It usually takes me back to my ship.”

Simon’s fingers drifted closer again. The crystal almost seemed to call for him. 

“And if it doesn’t?”

“I can’t imagine it’ll be worse than this.”

The sub was only getting hotter. Redder. A buzz sounded and a blank voice announced that your oxygen had dropped lower. You were running out of time, out of air, out of luck to not be killed by whatever was out there. 

“What happens if we make it?”

Your gaze flickered up to meet his for a moment. The briefest second. 

“I’m the Captain. I can do anything. I can make you a full crew member, a colonist when we land. You’d be free, Simon.”

“And the people here…”

“They don’t care about you. Or me. They don’t even know your name. I can promise you the chance to live, in any way you want.”

You understood that it might sound cruel. That these people would be without a sub in a world with dwindling resources. That Simon would be leaving behind everyone he’d ever known, everything he was used to. 

A voice crackled over the speaker. She sounded… soft. Smooth. Nothing like the captain above. She called to Simon by name, beckoned him near to her. Your serpent of dread coiled tight around your organs. For a moment, you were sure you’d be sick. 

“Simon, I think we should-”

“Here. We must see it together.”

Your head jerked up and you scrambled to hit the camera button. An incomprehensible light seemed to almost hover in the center of the image. 

“Simon. We need to go. Now.”

You pushed past him to the controls, leaving him staring at the fading image of the light. You set the sub full throttle in reverse until the warning system started, then flicked it back into forward at a sharp angle. It didn’t matter where you went right now, you just needed to leave here. 

You stopped dead when the voice spoke a single word. 

“Captain.”

You’d hardly spoken since her arrival on the radio. No one needed to know you were there. But she knew it anyway.

“What did you just say?”

Simon moved toward the speaker, but you were frozen in place. Your fingers twitched over the controls, itching to flee.

“We must see the light together. All of us.”

“Fuck this.”

You slammed the sub back into motion just as the moaning of the approaching beast overwhelmed all other sound. You just needed a few more seconds. You grabbed one of the manuals and forced it into position, keeping the sub moving at full speed. 

“It’s time to go.”

You scooped up your helmet and gloves, then wrapped one arm tight around Simon. Just before you pressed the button on your wrist, The sub jerked to a stop as several massive teeth sank into the metal and punctured your only protection. You and Simon were soaked in an instant, then gone the next. 

In a disorienting flash of light, you and Simon hit solid ground, cramped together in your cryo pod aboard the Invincible II. You couldn’t quite reach the emergency release, but it wasn’t a problem for long. Mark opened your pod for you, allowing you and your new companion to fall to the floor in a heap of tangled limbs and blood. 

“Captain!”

Mark knelt down and hoisted you up by your shoulders, dragging you a foot or two away as he called out for the computer to wake the medical crew lead. Simon sat up a bit and wiped the blood from his face, but it barely helped. 

“Mark, we need… help…”

You flopped back onto the floor and heaved out a breath. 

When you managed to open your eyes again, you were sitting in a hospital bed with Simon in the same position five feet to your left. You were both being hooked up to machines and one of the crew members was carefully trying to wipe up all the blood and viscera. 

Once you got a better look at Simon, you realized the extent of the damage. He was sitting perfectly still, his head turned just enough to see you. Two medics were trying to get a needle in his arm and struggling to find a vein. If the blood were the only problem, it’d be a quick fix. But there were dark, stringy tendrils of growth trailing up and down his entire body, weaving above and beneath his skin around angry red boils. 

When one of them tried to nudge a bit of one tendril aside, Simon jerked away and hissed in pain. A quick apology was followed by another attempt to find a vein. 

“Any chance we can skip the needles?”

“You both look like you’ve lost a lot of blood, Captain.”

“This isn’t from either of us. Mostly.”

Your head medic gave you a blank look, then nodded and the needles were abandoned. Simon was clearly uncomfortable with being fussed over, so you reached one hand out toward him. He took the invitation and pressed his fingertips into your palm while the medics continued to work. 

It took a long while to get you both cleaned up and looked over. The head medic outlined plans to remove the unnatural growths from both of you and reverse the effects of the radiation poisoning caused by the camera. Perks of being on a state-of-the-art ship with the best and most well-developed technology.

Simon would be stuck in medical for weeks, and you would have to receive treatment in increments to continue with your duties as captain. Mark was on you the whole time like a dog with a bone, asking questions and trying to get you to use the warp crystal again. A few days before Simon was cleared from medical, you and Mark had an all-out fight. 

There was yelling and pushing, Mark pried the warp crystal from your hand, and you nearly lost him in the wormhole. When it finally ended, the crystal gone, the wormhole settled, both of you curled up on the floor weeping together and apologizing to each other, a small piece of you finally felt at peace. 

The rest of your journey to your new planet was smooth sailing. Comparatively. 

“You have… a whole room of them?”

Simon stared in awe at the oxygen room, filled to the brim with plants. 

“And a huge stockpile of seeds we can plant once we set up the colony.”

He took a step closer and gently took a leaf between his fingers, running over the smooth organic material. 

Simon was looking better by the day. It took some doing to remove the blood and its after effects, and it had certainly left its scars. He had thin, creeping lines of scabs and scar tissue running along his whole body. You had the same, prompting you to keep your suit half off and leave your helmet in your room. The ship’s problems were behind it, so you felt safe enough to leave yourself somewhat exposed. 

“I haven’t seen this much green since…”

You leaned back against the wall to watch Simon. He moved with reverence, studying each plant closely before moving to the next. 

“I could use some help tending to them. If you’re interested in a bit of work.”

His eyes slowly drifted back to you. 

“I could…”

“It’s not much, just watering them when they need it, trimming them a bit if they get unruly.”

Simon was quiet, so you pushed off the wall and came around the corner of an aisle of plants. As soon as you were within reach, Simon lunged forward and wrapped his arms around you. It was a somewhat stilted gesture, like he understood the concept but wasn’t very familiar with the experience. Your breath caught in your lungs, then your arms wrapped around him too, one hand coming up to settle in the ends of his curls. 

“Thank you, Captain.”

You weren’t sure what possessed you, but you whispered your name. Not your title, not anything your countless friends and foes called you. Your real name. Saying it felt like sending a claw ripping through your own chest, an invitation for pain. Hearing Simon repeat it was a soothing balm, a gentle hand resting over cracked ribs and a bleeding heart. 

You couldn’t be certain what would happen when you landed. You were pretty sure you wouldn’t become an obsessive tyrant and seal your people away underground. Mark wasn’t going to smother you in your sleep for putting him through hell.

One glaring problem with your plan to bury it all deep in your mind forever was a new habit of yours. You had begun to sleepwalk. Most nights it was just a few minutes spent wandering the halls or even just pacing your personal quarters. Unfortunately, your luck was bound to run out eventually. 

Gunther was dragged from his sleep one night by an alarm. At first, he thought it might have been ship wide, calling for a fight of some kind. It took a few seconds to realize that wasn’t the case. 

“Computer, what’s goin’ on?”

“The Captain requires your assistance in ADS.”

“What for?” 

Gunther stuffed his feet into his boots and shrugged on a jacket. The ship had been colder the last few weeks, which he supposed was at your request. It prevented him from sticking to his sleeveless hoodie, but it wasn’t too much of a bother. 

“The Captain requires your assistance in ADS.”

The trigger happy crew lead rolled his eyes and slapped his hand over the scanner to leave his quarters. It was a short trip to the main ADS control room past dim halls and quiet doors. When Gunther pressed the scanner there to enter, he immediately caught the sound of mumbling. 

You stood at the control panel with one of the droids stationed beside you. Your helmet, which you almost never left behind, was nowhere in sight. Your sleeping coveralls were rumpled and your hair was a mess. He could see the way your shoulders tensed as you pressed different buttons and scanned through all the security protocols. 

“Cap’n?”

You made no move to acknowledge him. He came up to your side and finally caught what you were saying. 

“...fix the ADS… then cryo gets a leak… fix the reactor… Event Horizon…”

He slowly raised a hand to rest it on your shoulder, but the Computer spoke up over the intercom again. 

“I was instructed to keep this quiet, but there’s little I can do to prevent the Captain from changing or activating protocols manually.”

“Computer, what’s happenin’ to the Captain?”

“They are sleepwalking, Mr. Gunnerson.”

“Does this happen often?”

“...”

“Computer?”

He glared up at the ceiling as you continued pressing keys on the display.

“Semi-regularly. As I said, I was directed to keep it quiet. But I felt this presented some risk and it is within my protocols to alert crew to danger that could fall under their responsibilities.”

Gunther rolled his eyes at the AI’s reasoning and let his hand fall to your shoulder. He’d heard once that it could be a bad idea to wake up someone when they were sleepwalking, but maybe it wouldn’t have to come to that. 

“Cap’n.”

You let out a tiny little hum of acknowledgement, though he was sure you didn’t actually know he was there. 

“It’s late. There aren’t any asteroids to shoot down. You should get some sleep.”

You didn’t respond, so he reached out with his other hand and turned you around by the shoulders. You barely fought to turn back before letting him take the lead. 

“I’ve got an eye on the ADS and all the other leads are watching everything else. Let's just get to your quarters.”

Gunther moved carefully, keeping a slow pace as you stared blankly ahead. He glanced down and noticed your fuzzy socks, hoping you wouldn’t end up stepping on anything that could hurt you. 

It took a few minutes to wander back to your room since Gunther was in no mood to follow the Computer’s directions, then he tried to open your door.

“Access denied.”

He put his hand on the scanner again and received the same response.

“Access denied.”

“Computer, cut it out and just-”

“Only the Captain has access to their personal quarters.”

He sighed in irritation and gently took your hand. You kept curling it into a loose fist, so he had to use both hands to straighten it out and press it to the scanner. Once the door slid open with a soft whoosh he gestured for you to go in. You just started to turn back to go down the hall again and he wrapped an arm around your waist. 

“C’mon, Cap. It’s time to get some rest.”

Gunther had to admit, he felt a tiny bit awkward going into your personal quarters. He’d never been in anyone’s but his own and you hadn’t exactly given him permission to be here.

Despite his better judgment, he allowed his eyes to scan over the space. Somewhat surprisingly, your room wasn’t much bigger than his. In his time in space, he’d known leaders to give themselves a luxurious room while lower ranked individuals were practically packed in like sardines. But you weren’t just any leader. 

You had a few art pieces hung up on the walls; actual physical art, not just digital images. You had a pair of slippers at the foot of your bed while your heavy boots were resting in front of your small closet. There was a desk with both a computer and a tablet, which you had a bad habit of leaving places. 

Your bed looked practically unused. The pillows were as plush as if they’d never been touched and the blankets were wrinkled, pulling toward the side of the bed as if you only ever settled on the edge to sit for a moment. Your helmet was resting on the bed just in front of the pillows on the same side. 

“Cap, how often do you actually sleep?”

You were still staring ahead, but your eyes seemed drawn to a small reinforced window beside your desk. Mark had learned his lesson when it came to windows on a spaceship, but he took great care to give you a safe view of the stars you so loved. 

“Captain. I know I should probably leave ya alone, but I can’t.”

He sat you down on the bed and gently ran his hands down your arms until your hands rested in his. He was kneeling in front of you on the cold steel floor as your eyes slowly closed. 

“...fix ADS… fix cryo… fix the reactor…”

“Captain.”

“I can fix it from the outside…”

His brow furrowed in thought. As far as he knew, there wasn’t a cable in the airlock to allow for outside repairs. If you tried to fix anything from outside, if you opened the airlock…

Before he had a moment to consider that it might be a bad idea, Gunther was pulling you into his arms and holding you tight. Your shoulders tensed at first, then relaxed into him as you started to shake slightly. Your mumbling grew more frantic and he just held tighter. 

“Cap, it’s alright. Nothin’s broken. Everyone’s safe.”

Gunther tentatively rested one hand on your back and ran the other over the back of your head. It took a few minutes, but eventually your breathing evened out and the mumbling stopped. Gunther stayed there for a while longer, just holding you tight and listening to you breath deeply. 

“Mr. Gunnerson…”

Gunther tensed up and closed his eyes tight. 

“Yeah, Computer?”

He kept his voice low and hoped you wouldn’t hear. 

“The Captain’s condition is now stable. It is suggested that you return to your quarters.”

Gunther slowly shuffled into a standing position and slid your legs up onto the bed. You wiggled around a bit and he quickly snatched your helmet out of the way so your head could reach the pillows. He awkwardly reached for the other side of your blankets and simply folded them over you like a lazy burrito. You nestled into it and he fought the urge to smile at the pleasant expression on your face. 

You looked more peaceful than he’d ever seen you. Every day you were carrying the weight of your world on your shoulders; the 100,000 souls in cryo, the entire crew, and the fate of the new planet you were trying to find. For once, none of that seemed to matter. Your forehead smoothed out, your mouth opened just a tiny bit as you breathed, and your body stretched out as if to relieve every bit of tension you’d ever held. 

Gunther slowly backed out of the room and the Computer shut the door in front of him. He stood there deep in thought for a moment before starting back towards his own room. 

“Computer.”

“Yes, Mr. Gunnerson?”

“Can I install a protocol about the Captain?”

“Your authority allows you to install security protocols that do not interfere with the Captain.”

Gunther pressed his hand to the security pad and stepped into his dimly lit room. 

“I need you to alert me whenever the Captain sleepwalks out of their quarters. But don’t tell ‘em.”

“Mr. Gunnerson?”

“I don’t think they’d wanna know. Just let me know when this kinda stuff happens so I can help.”

“Protocol added, Mr. Gunnerson. Would you like to name it?”

Gunther couldn’t help but roll his eyes one more time as he dropped into bed and rolled back up into his blankets. 

“Loose Captain Protocol. Now leave me alone.”