#everamazingfe

“You’re not,” he grumbled with a huff of indignation, grabbing the edge of his station and pulling himself back to it, hooking his knees beneath it to keep himself there. “I just… Got lost in thought.”

“You? Capable of thought? Now that’s something that wasn’t included in your file.” There it was, that stupid sly grin that Jacobi always had when he thought he was being oh-so-clever. Usually, he was. But that joke had become played out within the first month on the station.

Eiffel responded with mock laughter, trying to ignore the way that comment made an invisible knife twist in his chest. After all he’d done, no one thought he was good at anything. What a surprise. But he didn’t have time to unpack all of that right then. “Get some new material, I’ve heard it all before,” he drawled, hoping he looked as bored as he sounded. “I’m a slacker, I’m an idiot, I’m a motormouth. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Your shoe’s untied.” 

Maybe there was some truth to one of those three things, because like the idiot he was, Eiffel had that brief moment of panic everyone had when someone told them that their shoe was untied, or their fly was down, or there was something on their shirt. And because of that panic, he looked down. It had completely slipped his mind that he hadn’t even worn shoes in the two (Three? Did those hundred days hurtling through space count? He didn’t know.) years he had been on the Hephaestus. “Oh, goddammit!” He groaned as he stared down at his socked feet in dismay, trying to tune out the cackling laughter Jacobi let out behind him that sent him halfway across the room. 

“You’re also gullible, apparently!” He let himself continue his path across the room so he could push off the back wall, still in a fit of giggles as he sailed back to the console. “You actually fell for it! I can’t believe it! I’ve never gotten anyone with that before.” Jacobi’s grin was bigger than it had ever been, and he wiped the tears from his eyes before they wreaked havoc on the station’s internal systems. Maxwell was too smart to fall for a simple trick like that, and Kepler… Well, Kepler didn’t like being pranked. 

Eiffel grumbled something incoherently, waiting patiently for Jacobi to get over himself before he spoke again. “Was there a real reason you came down here?”

“No, not really. Kepler’s giving Minkowski an orientation for her new role and then he needed to discuss… something with Hilbert, I don’t even wanna know. And Ala- Maxwell’s busy with Hera. So, I was bored.”

“What about Lovelace?”

“Dunno. Didn’t ask. Didn’t care.”

“Right… So you came to interrupt my very important work?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky you.” Jacobi made himself comfortable, lounging in the free-floating bliss that was zero-g as Eiffel pretended to look busy, though his eyes were fixed on the reflection of the man in the glass. The bright light of Wolf 359 backlit him beautifully, and the color in the star seemed to desaturate everything else in the reflection, except for those damn eyes. 

Eiffel let out a sigh, bringing a hand up to run it through his hair, his fingers brushing through the empty space where his long curls used to be. He let out a frustrated growl, moving his hand up to his scalp. The little hair that was left was scraggly and damaged as hell. It was coarse and patchy, and it scratched his hand uncomfortably when he ran his hand over it. “Actually. I have an idea of something we can do.” He turned around to look at the real Jacobi, who arched an eyebrow in silent encouragement for him to go on. “Come with me.”

He’d had his head shaved a handful of times, and it was usually under duress. The first time was as a punishment for getting gum stuck in it, even though he hadn’t been the one to put gum there, and it would’ve been much easier to just cut the chunk out rather than shave his whole head. The second time had been when he’d joined the military. This would make number three, but this time it was necessary, despite the fact that his goal had really been to never cut his hair again. All that length had meant a lot to him, it meant that he had control over something in his life, finally, but the cryofreeze had, apparently, had other plans for it.

Additionally, most of the shaving kits, particularly their razors, had been dismantled for Minkowski’s crusade against Blessie. God only knew where all of those had ended up, or if they were still even on the station, but he knew there was one that was still safely tucked away. 

“Wow, Eiffel. I thought you would’ve liked to wine and dine your dates before bringing them home. You always struck me as more of a gentleman than that.”

“Shut up.” He rooted around in his locker, letting various pieces of uniform and whatever else had been shoved in there float freely around them as he did so. Most of it was contraband that he should’ve been more careful about getting seen, but he was too focused. Once he found the kit, he let out a soft, ‘a ha!’ And underhand tossed it to Jacobi. “You’re shaving my head.”

For once, Jacobi didn’t have some sort of sarcastic remark to make in response. He was just confused. “Sorry?”

“I can’t… I can’t stand it being like this. I can’t. And it’ll never grow back right with the ends this damaged, and I don’t really feel like cutting myself a thousand times in the process. So you’re doing it for me.” He tried to make his voice sound commanding, authoritative, but instead he just sounded desperate, irritated, upset. His hair meant so much to him, but he could stand to be without it for a little bit. He’d done it before, he could do it again. What he couldn’t stand was the sorry excuse for hair that he’d been left with. 

“You don’t think I’d use the razor to kill you? It’d be the perfect opportunity.”

“If you wanted to kill me, you could’ve done it back on the Urania when I was half dead.” 

“You hadn’t annoyed me as much back then.”

“I mean, if you really want to, I guess you can, but… I’d really just like my head shaved, please.”

A dramatic sigh filled the silence, and then: “Ugh, fine. But you owe me.”

That was good enough for Eiffel, and he trailed along behind Jacobi to the Hephaestus’ bathroom. Gravity was a little different in there, as in it was actually present in order to make showering and other general acts of hygiene (that Eiffel didn’t really partake in) a little easier. So he was able to sit on the counter and stare their reflections down as Jacobi stood behind him, setting the kit beside him on the counter. 

Jacobi wasn’t a friend, not by a longshot. In Minkowski’s book, he was part of ‘the enemy.’ But they’d spent a decent amount of time together after he’d been picked up by the Urania, and even a little bit of time before that over the comms. Someone had to keep in touch with him and keep up-to-date on his coordinates so the ship could get a lock on his location, and Kepler had felt like that work was beneath the highly intellectual minds of himself and Maxwell, so it had fallen to Jacobi. And Eiffel hadn’t minded, because beneath all the smart remarks, the guy was alright to talk to. A little stilted, maybe, but that wasn’t anything he couldn’t work with. It was better on the Urania. Easier, at least, because Jacobi’s body language did a lot of the talking for him. Once again, helping Eiffel was deemed grunt work, so Jacobi had been the one stuck tending to his wounds, helping him get around when he was too weak to even keep his eyes open, and adjust to eating again after not doing it for a hundred days (though with all of the substitutes for rations Hilbert dared to call food, one could argue it had been even longer since he’d really eaten). 

Long story short, Eiffel liked Jacobi to some degree. The guy was alright in his book, and he was sure the feeling was mutual, because he could’ve easily said no, or done a hackjob of it, or killed him. But instead, he took his time and made sure that he didn’t miss any spots, his other hand resting gently on Eiffel’s head to keep it steady despite all the fidgeting. 

After the first pass, Eiffel moved to get off the counter, to turn around and thank Jacobi, but a firm hand on his shoulder pushed him back down. 

“I gotta go again, make sure I didn’t miss a spot. It looked awful before, but it’ll look even worse if there’s just a tiny patch with a few hairs left.”

Eiffel furrowed his eyebrows together, but nodded and got comfortable again. As comfortable as he could, at least. His ass was already numb and the feeling was starting to spread down to his legs, but hopefully the second pass would go quicker. 

And it did, kind of. Jacobi didn’t need to clean the hair from the razor as often because there was barely any left, but he still took that same slow and gentle care as he had the first time. When he was done, he wiped off the leftover shaving cream with a nearby towel, smiling genuinely as Eiffel lifted a hand to feel over his scalp. “Well? How does it feel?”

“It feels great,” he answered earnestly, laughing in relief. He didn’t hate the way his reflection looked anymore, and now he could actually believe everyone when they told him to pull it together because it would grow back eventually. Hopefully this made the process easier. His eyes drifted to Jacobi’s in the mirror, mirroring that same smile. “Thank you... I really do owe you.”

“Yeah, you do.” The genuine smile faded to his usual cocky grin, and Eiffel threw the towel at him. It hit him square in the face, but it didn’t wipe away that look. “But… You’re welcome.” He offered him a hand to help him off the counter, steadying him with a chuckle when he nearly lost his balance. “Gravity that hard on you, Doug?”

“No! It’s just… That counter was not very comfortable to sit for that long on. And yeah, I guess gravity’s pretty hard to adjust to too.” 

It had been the longest stakeout of Jeremy's life, and if it wasn't the 36 straight hours of being awake that had worn him out, it had certainly been the boredom. Nothing of note had happened, it was the biggest waste of time. He trudged into the penthouse, dark circles under his eyes, ignoring all the greetings thrown his way. Instead, he made a beeline to Matt's room.

The hacker was busy working when his chair was suddenly rolled back from his desk and a heavy weight plopped itself into his lap. "Job go good then?" he asked, plucking Jeremy's hat off his head and placing it with care on the desk. Shoving his face into Matt's shoulder, Jeremy just groaned in response. "Gonna take that as a yes, I'll check your footage out later. You wanna let me move to the bed, or...?"

Jeremy let out another groan but stood up, kicking off his shoes. They bounced off the wall with a thunk, the rest of his ensemble hitting the floor with similar noises. The lad himself flopped face first into the pillows, rolling onto his side when Matt poked him.

"Make room, big guy," he coaxed, crawling into bed next to Jeremy. He haphazardly threw the blankets over them before cuddling up to Jeremy. "You showed up at the perfect time, y'know."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" Jeremy reached back to grab Matt's hand, pulling it forward and wrapping his arm around himself. 

Matt smiled as Jeremy pressed back against him more, happily spooning him. "Cause it's nap time. And nap time's always better with you."

"It's always nap time with you."

"Don't you start complaining now."

Jacobi had floated over to him a little too fast, his hands out to catch himself just as Eiffel turned around so that he ended up catching himself on his chest rather than his back. The momentum had carried him forward just a little too much, and neither of them had really considered the consequences of leaning in to close the gap. They were delirious from a lack of sleep and lonely as hell, but he was fairly certain that he’d never have a kiss as good as that one again in his life. 

“I guess Isabel was right,” Eiffel had murmured once they’d parted, and Jacobi arched an eyebrow in quiet questioning. He chuckled as he caught the look, shrugging a shoulder before glancing away, his cheeks flushed pink. “She uh… She asked me if I knew that you were flirting with me… And I kinda didn’t believe her.”

“Oh my god.”

“Hey! How was I supposed to know? I just figured you talk to everyone like that!”

“When have you ever heard me talk to anyone like that?” That was a question that Doug didn’t have an answer to, and all Jacobi could do was utter, “Oh my god,” again before pulling him in for another kiss. 

The way their relationship had progressed after that had been more than a little unconventional. They didn’t broach the topic of feelings for quite some time. Speaking about anything more serious than whether the Prequels were better or the Sequels was quite difficult for the two of them, but they made sure to express them in other ways. 

Jacobi started waking Eiffel up for his shifts in person, bringing him a cup of seaweed sludge with “chocolate” powder added for a bit of extra flavor. He also took to filling him in on the plots of movies and shows he’d been missing out on during his tenure on the Hephaestus station. Eiffel helped Jacobi with his idle tinkering without an ounce of complaint, bringing him whatever tools or materials he asked for, sometimes even before he even knew he needed them. They worked together wonderfully, and got along even better. 

“Jacobi?” Hera’s voice came over the Sol’s speakers. Despite how soft it was, it cut into his reminiscing quite harshly, dragging him back into reality before he was ready. Upon hearing her speak, he flinched. “I’m sorry, I just… I wanted to check in. How are you doing?”

He gritted his teeth as he tensed, practically growling in response to the question. Hera was lucky that she was a part of the ship. If anyone had decided to ask him that in person, he would’ve attacked them. After a moment of thought, he realized that that was probably why she was the one asking in the first place. Minkowski and Lovelace were too smart to put themselves in harm’s way like that. “How do you think, Hera? How is anyone doing after all of that?”

She sighed softly, her servers running warm with sympathy in another section of the ship. “Not very good, I’d say. But you seem to be doing the worst.”

“Wow, Hera. Thanks. The increased processing power of the Sol really made you so much better at observation,” he drawled, bitter and sarcastic as he dropped his forehead to the glass. It hit with a satisfying thunk, the dull pain in his head distracting him from the pain in his heart. He closed his eyes, sighing heavily. 

‘You know, it’s not actually glass.’ Eiffel’s voice in his head spoke around a mouthful of rations, correcting his mis-description. ‘It’s a carbon-polymer blend. Actual glass would snap under the pressure of space and kill us all.’

“What I’m trying to say is… We were all close to Officer Eiffel, to Doug, but… You were the closest. It’s understandable that you’d be taking this the hardest, and I’m here for you.” There was a beat of silence and some faint musical beeps. “I have recordings of some of his audio logs. Would you like to hear them?”

That made his heart ache a little less, though he still didn’t lift his head from the window or open his eyes. “Yes. Please. I’d like that… I’d like that a lot.”

----------------------------------------------------

The first time that Jacobi could bring himself to see Eiffel again was months after they landed back on Earth. They were put up in Goddard sponsored housing by Cape Canaveral, but Jacobi insisted on having a space of his own. Lovelace and Minkowski stuck together, and Doug was stuck with them because they were the only other people that he knew. They’d done their best to reacquaint him with the facts of his life during the rest of the Sol’s journey back to Earth, but because they didn’t know about his and Jacobi’s relationship, he’d stayed in the dark about it. Hera was the only one who knew, but she wasn’t going to tell anyone without Jacobi’s permission, which he certainly wasn’t going to grant. 

“He’s better off without me,” Jacobi muttered from his seat on his townhome’s balcony, staring up at the sky. “They all are.” He blamed himself for it, for everything, because Kepler wasn’t alive to blame for it all anymore. There was no one to absorb his anger, his guilt, his disgust, so he took it upon himself. 

Icy booze had become his crutch of choice again, and that made it all easier to deal with. When he was laying on the floor of the bathroom, clutching the edge of the toilet while puking his guts out and fighting off a migraine mixed with a hangover, it was very difficult to think about anything but the pain. It was a distraction that had all of the pain and punishment he felt he deserved, and it was perfect.

It was perfect, until it wasn’t. 

Jacobi wasn’t adjusting very well to life back on Earth, to life without Doug, that much was obvious. After an icy-booze related hospitalization, Goddard said that if he wished to continue staying in the housing that they so generously provided for him, he would have to quit drinking and start counseling. Isabel and Renee had done the latter and had found that it helped, or so he was told. Even Doug had as well, but he’d cut the doctor off before he could continue. 

“Fine. I’ll do it, but only if you never mention him again.”

It was only after weeks of recovery and months of counseling that the name ‘Doug Eiffel’ started to come up in his sessions, and he was the one to say it first. It was the only way he was going to be able to talk about it. When his doctor had tried before he was ready, he shut down and didn’t say a word, going catatonic until he was escorted from the building. It was almost embarrassing how many times that had to happen before the doctor learned to not bring him up. 

“How is he doing?” Jacobi asked after moments of silence at the end of the latest session. He was supposed to be leaving, their hour was up and the therapist needed to prepare for her next session, but he couldn’t bring himself to stand up from his seat.

“How is who doing?”

He scoffed, annoyed at the way the doctor played dumb, picking at a loose thread in his jeans. “Eiffel. Doug. How is he doing?”

“He’s… Better. Coping. I can’t really tell you too much, doctor-patient confidentiality you know, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind it if you wanted to ask him yourself.” 

The way that she pulled a small paper from her notebook and held it out towards him told him that she’d been planning this for a while, that this was something she’d been hoping he’d ask. But, it didn’t turn him off from the idea. 

“Yeah, okay. I’ll think about it.” Jacobi stood, hesitating for a second before reaching out to take the paper from her. 

Once he was outside of the office, he unfolded the paper. All at once, the air was sucked from his lungs. He could recognize that handwriting anywhere. The awkward chicken scratch and misshapen letters of Eiffel’s handwriting filled the paper, and he smiled as he read the note.

‘What do you expect from me? I’m the product of the public educational system, this is basically as fancy as cursive there.’

“Some things never change,” he muttered, smiling as he folded it carefully and tucked it into his pocket.

The paper came out of his pocket and onto the coffee table once Jacobi was home, and it took up a spot in his mind all night. As he turned on the television to watch a movie, his eyes never left it. As he grabbed a bottle of booze and a glass of ice to make his signature drink, it pulled his attention away long enough to convince him to fill the glass with water instead. It lived on the table for a week before he did anything with it, all the while convincing him to make small improvements to his life because what would the real Doug do if he saw him living the way he was? 

After a rather tense follow-up session where Doug wasn’t mentioned at all, Jacobi decided to pick up the phone and call him. It was hard to believe that the man hadn’t been mentioned by name once during the entire hour, but everything his therapist had said made him think of Doug, or made him think about something that made him think about Doug. It was a horrible gnawing feeling, and it wasn’t going to go away until he spoke to him.

“Hello?” 

Jacobi gasped when he heard Eiffel’s voice on the other end, gripping the edge of the couch cushions like his life depended on it. “Hey, uh… Doug? It’s Jacobi… Or Daniel, if you prefer.”

There was some quiet muttering, and then a shout of, “Oh! Jacobi! Right. I was beginning to think that Isabel and Renee were joking when they said you came back with us. I think they were too.” The voice was Doug’s, but everything else was wrong. The tone, the cadence, the lack of pop culture references. This wasn’t his Doug. It made a hollowness form in his chest, but it was much more empty than the loneliness he had felt as of late.

“Yeah, I… I kind of had some of my own shit to deal with. I couldn’t… I couldn’t see you. I couldn’t even think about you until recently. But I think I’m ready now.”

“Um…” Eiffel’s confusion was audible, he didn’t understand why Jacobi was so torn up about him, and Jacobi felt awful for giving him a riddle that he couldn’t even begin to answer. 

“Sorry, uh… Maybe you could come over? I can cook us something nice for dinner, and maybe explain some things?”

“Oh, that would be great, actually! I’ve got some questions of my own, and I think the girls either don’t know the answers or don’t want to tell me, so... Dinner sounds great.]”

After they said their goodbyes, Jacobi waited to let the other man hang up first. He didn’t want the moment to end, just in case it was the last one he got with Eiffel. He never savored the moments he had with Doug as much as he should have at the time. It ate him up inside every day. But once the line went dead, he set to work cleaning, getting his home ready and presentable for company. 

It was filthy, bordering on uninhabitable, but several days of work and what probably added up to about a hundred trash bags later, Jacobi’s place was clean. After that, came the prepwork for his dinner date with Eiffel. 

“No, wait… It’s just dinner, not a date,” he reminded himself as he looked at recipes online, a glass of juice on the table beside his laptop. “Not a date.” 

In the end, he decided on something simple, but not so simple it would look like he put no effort in. Homemade chicken parm, with a side of pasta (with homemade sauce, of course) and steamed fresh veggies from a local grocery store. Going to the store to get ingredients had been the first time he’d left his home for anything other than therapy in far too long, since his groceries usually got delivered. Goddard had him on some special ‘returning to eating real food’ meal plan for a while. After that transition had ended the food deliveries never stopped, so he never stopped making use of them. 

Getting to decide what to eat was a nice little bit of freedom, though. Getting to roam the aisles of the grocery store, to select the cuts of meat he wanted, to feel the produce and decide which was the most fresh before buying it, was something he hadn’t done in far too long, but it felt good. He decided then, as he made small talk with the cashier and commented about the weather outside, that he was going to make an attempt to get out of the house more often. TV wasn’t an adequate replacement for real human conversations, and his weekly talks with his therapist hardly counted towards that either.

Cooking ended up being just as good for him as the trip to the grocery store had been. Jacobi had forgotten just how much he’d loved it before going up into space, how much he loved dancing to his favorite music in the kitchen as he waited for water to boil on the stove or for food to cook in the oven, how much he loved the satisfaction of getting to taste test his creations and having it come out perfect on the first try. It was an artform. A lot of it was similar to bomb making because of how precise it needed to be and how delicately dishes need to be put together for it to come out exactly right. No wonder he liked it so much. It scratched an itch that hadn’t been scratched in a long time. 

There was a knock on the door right as Jacobi was putting the finishing touches on the sauce, dipping a spoon into it to taste it and letting out a satisfied hum at how utterly delicious it was.

“Oh yeah, baby. I still got it,” he self-congratulated as he tossed the spoon into the sink. It clanged against the stainless steel, possibly breaking one of hi, but he didn’t care. He was in too good a mood for anything so simple to ruin it. 

Outside the door, Doug stood awkwardly. He didn’t know much about Jacobi outside of what Isabel and Renee had told him, but that was the case for a lot of things in the past year. His world didn’t expand too far beyond the bedroom he’d been put up in. Even Hera was seemingly very selective with the information that she gave out. There was a lot they all left out of their stories. Whether it was because they didn’t want to share it or didn’t think he could handle it, he couldn’t tell. He just hoped Jacobi wasn’t the same way. Someone needed to be honest with him after all this time.

The door swung open, and there was Jacobi. He looked nothing like Doug had expected. They were almost equal in height, with Jacobi maybe an inch shorter, if that. He had beautiful green eyes (he tried not to think too much about the use of ‘beautiful’ as a descriptor for them in his mind), and messy brown hair that clearly had not been cut in ages. Jacobi wasn’t a military man like the rest of them, but with the way Kepler ran things he might as well have been, and it was obvious that he’d let himself go. The overflowing trash can out at the curb was another hint towards that, but he opted not to comment on any of it. It wasn’t like he was in any better shape himself. 

“Hey, Jacobi. Uh… Isabel mentioned you kind of have a ‘thing’ for fancy cheeses, so…” He lifted a paper bag, offering it out to the other man who had yet to look anywhere but his face. Jacobi was still too floored by the presence of Doug himself to be able to focus on anything else. 

Despite the changes he’d undergone, Doug looked largely the same. His muscles had lost some of their definition, his face was softer, and his hair had gotten longer and impossibly curlier, but he looked… Better, overall. Well-rested, healthier in every way, and lighter. He didn’t have the same burdens that the original Douglas Eiffel did, the same traumas, the same memories. That was all left behind up on the Hephaestus, most likely for the better.

“Thank you,” he said finally, taking the bag from him, his arm dropping a little from the surprising heft. “Wow, this is… A lot of cheese. Like.. A lot a lot.” He peered into the bag and chuckled, stepping out of the way to let Eiffel into his home. “Thank you.” It was a sincere thanks, not a mocking one, because going overboard on a gift was something that was so inherently Doug. He wasn’t shocked that he’d been gifted more cheese than he would be able to eat in a year or so. In fact, it made him feel relieved. Somewhere, in there, was still the same Doug that he knew. It just wasn’t up on the surface anymore. But that was okay. He didn’t mind doing a little digging.

“Wow, what smells so good?” Eiffel asked as he stepped inside, trailing along awkwardly behind Jacobi towards the kitchen. 

“Chicken parm, some veggies, a side of pasta, and sauce for it all,” he answered, his head in the fridge as he tried to make room for all of the dairy. He pulled some vegetables that weren’t used in the night’s dinner out of the drawers, shoving them onto the shelves instead so he could split the bag’s contents between them. The fridge had a little trouble closing, but that was easy enough to overcome with a hearty shove. “I kinda went overboard too, I haven’t cooked in a long time, but I guess… I guess I kinda wanted to prove that I was still good at it.”

Eiffel nodded in understanding as Jacobi stepped away from the fridge. There was an awkward few seconds of silence as the latter moved, grabbing some plates from the cabinet and passing one to Eiffel so they could dish out their own portions. His own plate had more pasta than chicken on it, with Eiffel’s being the opposite, and they both grabbed a single scoop of vegetables out of courtesy to their presence. 

They sat at the table across from each other, both of them eating quietly and taking sips of soda before Doug spoke up.

“I don’t know a lot about you.”

Jacobi blinked, lowering his fork from where it was lifted halfway to his mouth. “Well, of course you don’t. I imagine that’s the case for everybody.”

“No. No, not for Renee, not for Isabel. They’ve told me everything about themselves, their roles on the station, their lives before it, what part they played in all of the mess that happened up there. But whenever you come up, they sorta…” He trailed off, struggling for the words to say. 

“Dance around it? Yeah, I don’t blame them. I was sorta the ‘bad guy’ up there.” 

“You don’t look the type. I would’ve guessed you were on our side.”

Jacobi shook his head, taking a long sip from his soda before speaking again. “I wasn’t. Not even a little bit, not at first anyway. Towards the end, yeah, but only because I didn’t have a choice.”

Eiffel hummed softly, mulling over his words as he chewed a big bite of chicken. “Why didn’t you have a choice?”

He sighed heavily, setting the can down with a soft ‘clunk’ and staring into the liquid inside. “Because,” he started, tapping his fingers against the wood of the table. “Someone I cared a lot about was over on your side, and I wasn’t about to let anything happen to them. I had to make sure they got out of it safe.”

“Who?”

“Just eat your chicken, Doug.” The words were clipped, and Doug wanted to argue. There was and indignant look on his face as he set down his knife and fork, but the look on Jacobi’s face was nothing but sadness. That alone was enough to convince him not to push the matter more, at least for a few minutes. It was clearly a sore subject for the poor guy.

The meal passed without much more conversation. Eventually, Jacobi couldn’t stomach taking even one more bite, and pushed his plate away. He had to figure out a way to explain things to Doug, in a way that wasn’t going to be more off-putting than no explanation at all. “They didn’t make it. I did everything I could to make sure everyone got out alright, and in the end the one person I cared about didn’t make it,” he settled on after a few long moments, shaking his head at himself. “Isabel and Renee don’t want to talk about me because I’m sure they blame me, somehow, because they cared about that person a whole hell of a lot too. And honestly? I blame myself too. Every goddamn day.”

Eiffel blinked in surprise at the sudden outburst, but stopped eating to reach a hand out and place it gently on Jacobi’s shoulder. “They don’t blame you, Daniel,” he murmured, rubbing his shoulder gently with his thumb as the man slumped forward. “I’m sure they just… Don’t know. You’re a man of mystery to them, which is a problem because that just makes you all the more interesting to me. But that sucks, ‘cause they don’t really have any answers to my questions.”

Jacobi stayed silent for a few moments, sighing heavily and squeezing his eyes shut. The hand on his shoulder was warm, familiar, and the spot was going to be all too cold when it was pulled away. He was so sick of being cold. “What were your questions?”

“I don’t even remember now, I dunno. Hera just mentioned some stuff, and… I don’t know, I think I was reading into it a little too much.”

Jacobi’s eyes narrowed at that, his heart rate spiking as he tried to figure out exactly what Hera may have mentioned that Eiffel could possibly be reading into. She was the only one who knew about their relationship. That was an unfortunate side effect of her having eyes and ears everywhere on the station, though she was courteous enough to give them their privacy when they needed it. “What… What did she mention?”

“Ah, you know what? Forget it,” Eiffel said, shaking his head quickly. He saw the way that Jacobi looked, and decided that maybe now wasn’t the time to bring something that heavy up. He’d only just met the guy, technically, though from what Hera had said they’d apparently known each other very well. “This chicken is amazing, by the way. You’re an incredible cook.” 

Jacobi was quiet for a second, trying to work up the courage to insist that Eiffel tell him what Hera had said, but he didn’t want to seem like he was crazy. He wanted to make a good impression on this Doug, to make up for the absolutely terrible one he’d given the first time they met. “Oh, thank you. And thanks for giving me an excuse to cook, it was… Nice.”

Eiffel smiled, that stupidly warm smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners and his dimples show clear as day, that stupidly warm smile that made Jacobi’s heart skip a beat and his chest tighten all at once. “Maybe I could give you another excuse some time.”

When Jacobi smiled back at Doug, it wasn’t as warm. It was forced, tight-lipped with a false warmth that no one but Alana would be able to discern. “Yeah, maybe. I’d like that.” He wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth or not, but he still found himself wanting to see more of Doug. 

----------------------------------------------------

They began to meet for dinner once a week, the meals almost painfully simple for Jacobi but still requiring an amount of skill that left Doug impressed. Then again, Doug was impressed with nearly everything Jacobi did. It was intentional, though. All part of a plan to slowly wear down the walls that the man had put up around himself. He was warming up to this new version of Doug, comparing him to the previous version less and less. This wasn’t his Doug anymore, but maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. 

I think I might even like this Doug more, Jacobi found himself thinking, though he shook his head quickly to get it out of his mind. It was an intrusive thought, nothing more, and he pushed any like it from his mind as fast as they popped up. 

“Hey, Daniel?” Doug spoke up around a mouthful of fettuccine, and Jacobi lifted his head. He liked that. He liked how Doug never called him ‘Jacobi’ anymore. He liked being ‘Daniel’ to him. 

“What’s up, Doug?”

“What was I like? Before, y’know.”

That made Jacobi chuckle, but then Eiffel looked at him with an earnestness that made his heart break. “You mean… You don’t know?”

He shook his head in response, swallowing the mouthful of food before continuing. “No. I mean, I can make some guesses from the logs, but I know they don’t include everything, and Renee and Isabel always say they don’t like to dwell.”

“What about Hera?”

“She just says ‘You were Doug, I don’t know how to describe you other than that.’”

Jacobi hummed softly, thinking it over for a moment. What was Doug like before he lost his memory? For a split-second, Jacobi felt a rush of panic wash over him, because he almost couldn’t remember. Almost. “Honestly? You were fucking annoying. Every other word out of your mouth was a pop culture reference, and it made everything you said so goddamn incomprehensible that it was infuriating. You were infuriating.” He stopped and took a sip of his soda, ignoring the look of confusion and hurt on Doug’s face. “But Hera’s right. You were Doug. You were someone who always tried to make the most of a shitty situation, to find the fun in the traumatizing ordeal we went through. If you didn’t make Minkowski and Hera laugh at least once a day, either at you or with you, you considered the day wasted. And you cared, so much, about everyone. Even Kepler. Even Hilbert. After everything you were put through, you still cared.” His fingers twitched, and he stood up, disappearing into the kitchen to make himself a glass of icy booze before returning. As much as he was trying to avoid drinking in front of Eiffel at Renee’s request, he needed something if this was going to be the night’s topic of conversation. “You were the most human out of any of us, Doug. Out of all of us, you deserved what happened to you the least. I’d put myself in your place a thousand times over if I could.” 

As Jacobi lifted the glass to his lips, Doug just stared at him. “Wow, I.. That is… A lot. I had no idea.” 

“Of course you didn’t. You destroyed yourself to save us.” To save me. “You’re a goddamn hero, Doug. And you don’t even know what you did to deserve the title. And if you did, you’d be too humble to accept it.” There was so much he could say about Eiffel, but he didn’t know how far he could go before the other suspected there was more to it than a little bit of friendly fondness. “And you really haven’t changed that much, either.”

“I haven’t?” He asked, blinking in confusion and furrowing his eyebrows together. He certainly didn’t feel like he was the same person he was before, and no one treated him that way either. 

“No, not at all,” Jacobi responded, smiling as he took another drink. “Sure, the things you say are actually understandable to the average human, and you don’t really remember anything, but… You’re still Doug. Your smile is the same, the same dumb shit still makes you laugh, and you’ve got the biggest appetite of anyone I’ve ever met. Not to mention that… That you’re still the most human of us all, the most caring, the sweetest.” His mind flashed back to the ten pounds of cheese he’d been gifted, most of which was still inhabiting the drawers of his fridge, and just how similar it was to the time that Jacobi mentioned that he’d like a snack and Eiffel brought him what must’ve been every available ration from the Urania to choose from. He smiled as he remembered that moment, swirling the ice around in his glass and staring into it as if it would take him back in time. “No matter what anyone tells you, you’re still the same Doug Eiffel I fell in love with.”

The words had slipped out before he could stop them, and they ground the conversation to a halt. Jacobi froze as the gears turned in Eiffel’s head, the ice in his glass clinking from the sudden stop. The silence seemed to stretch out for an eternity, and Jacobi started wishing that he would drop dead so he wouldn’t have to deal with the almost certainly heartbreaking response from Eiffel. 

“Huh,” was the response he ended up getting, and Jacobi risked taking a glance over at him. It seemed like Doug was actually putting some pieces together, but it certainly wasn’t quick enough for Jacobi’s liking. “Now that can’t be right.” He shook his head, meeting Jacobi’s eyes with an expression the other couldn’t quite read. Before he could even ask him to elaborate, Doug continued. “You are way too far out of my league to have been with me.”

The joke was meant to bring some levity to the situation, but it just reminded Jacobi of all the situations Eiffel had said those words in before. Of all the times they spent basking in a post sex glow, with Eiffel trailing his fingers along Jacobi’s arm, listing out all the reasons why they could never be together anywhere but in space, orbiting a star with nothing but time. 

“Uh, Jacobi? You there?” Doug seemed concerned, but more-so about the way his joke didn’t land than anything else. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here. Look, before you say anything else, I know… I don’t expect you to have those feelings for me again, I just wanted you back in my life, in any capacity.” There was no explaining the pain he’d faced when he learned that Eiffel had forgotten everything, forgotten him. “It hurt too much to acknowledge you were even alive for a while… But I really look forward to our dinners, and I like being your friend.”

“But you’d like being my boyfriend even more?”

“No, I’m not saying that.”

“But you are thinking it.”

“Yes.” A pause. A realization. “Wait, no. Get out of my head!” Jacobi slumped forward, his hands over his ears so he wouldn’t have to hear whatever other idiotic bullshit that Eiffel decided to spew. 

Eiffel sat there for a few minutes, biting the inside of his lip as he tried to think of what to say. Clearly, Jacobi wasn’t going to be receptive to any joking about this subject, and he felt bad for pushing it too far. “Look man, I… I dunno if this is what you want to hear, but… I think I’d kinda like being your boyfriend too.”

His hands over his ears did next to nothing to muffle the words, and Jacobi lifted his head to stare at him in confusion. That had been the last thing he’d expected to hear, but then again Eiffel always knew how to be serious when it counted. “You would?” he asked dumbly, stunned by the words, but his heart threatened to leap right out of his chest. 

“Yeah. I mean… Maybe it’s old feelings coming to the surface, but… The way I feel around you isn’t the same way I feel when I’m around Renee or Isabel. I mean, something about them feels familiar in a way I can’t place, I know I can trust them, but with you that feeling is so much more. I feel safe around you, like I don’t have to hide or pretend to be someone I’m not. I can be myself, the new version of myself, without worrying about upsetting you.” He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he tried to form the next part of his sentence. “I’m not sure if that feeling’s love, not yet, but I know that it’s a whole heck of a lot more than friendship. And I’m pretty sure everyone else already thinks we’re dating anyway,” he tacked on with a slight smirk that Jacobi couldn’t help but chuckle at. 

He continued to laugh, leaning forward to wrap Eiffel in a tight hug and bury his face against his neck as those chuckles turned to cries. “I missed you so much, Doug… It’s been so lonely without you,” he whispered, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. 

“Maybe you’re just a late bloomer?” Fiona suggested to him late one evening when the sun had already set, laid out on her back on the roof of a building Michael had created just for her. Her magic was her ability to be good at anything she set her mind to, with an unwavering confidence that Gavin admired (and sometimes envied), even when it was misplaced. “Or you could just be totally oblivious to it. That’s always an option.”

He let out a soft sigh, shrugging a shoulder as he turned his head to look at her. “Someone else would’ve noticed it in me by now though, I think. Everyone has something, even if they're not the ones who see it.” Those who had magic were usually pretty good at picking it out in others. It had been how those without genuine magic had discovered theirs. How Jack had discovered his warmth, how Ky had discovered her strength, and so on. 

Fiona bit her lip, going quiet. He had a point there, but she didn’t want to admit it. She hated when he was right. “Maybe your magic is just being an idiot?” There was a grin on her lips, but the way that she spoke made it sound like a genuine suggestion. Gavin couldn’t help but burst out into laughter, his and Fiona’s giggles echoing out across the landscape. 

“Kind of a shitty magic, don’t you think, Fifi?” He asked finally, when his sides ached from laughing and his lungs begged for air. “I know Michael would certainly agree with you, but… I really hope that’s not it.”

“I don’t know, Gavvy. Could be. But I hope that’s not it too. I think you’re made for something a bit better than that.” Instead of pity, or jokes, she gave him a vote of confidence, and there was a little gleam that formed in Gavin’s eyes at her words. 

“You mean that?” 

“Of course I do! 

----------------------------------------------------

The day after speaking to Fiona, Gavin was still thinking about her words. Despite how good it had made him feel in the moment, they’d ended up putting him in a worse mood than usual, and it was hard for him to even begin thinking about the magic he might have held. Was he really meant for something better than the idiocy his friends assigned to him? He wasn’t sure. 

He’d set out on a hike, outside of the city that they’d made for themselves and into the woods surrounding it. Some time out in nature always made him feel better, more at ease, more connected to the magic of the world around him. The small nuances on how the ecosystem worked together to thrive always intrigued him, and he was jealous of how cohesive it all could be. 

“I’m just a bit too all over the place for it, I guess,” he muttered to himself, taking a seat on a fallen tree. The moss was soft beneath him, and he ran his fingers over it as he talked to himself. Working through his thoughts aloud always made them feel less jumbled. 

A figure sat down beside him with a heavy sigh, and a hand was placed over his. “Don’t beat yourself too much, Gav,” Geoff said quietly, wrapping his arm around Gavin and pulling himself close. “We can’t all be something special, otherwise there wouldn’t be anything special at all.”

Gavin let out a long sigh, leaning into the gent when he was pulled in. He’d stopped asking how Geoff could find him so easily long ago. It was the same answer every time, ‘I just know where to look, you assholes aren’t exactly all that hard to find,’ said with that same glint in his eye. “Yeah, I know. But it’d be nice to be able to do something more than exist.” 

Geoff hummed softly, rubbing his thumb gently over Gavin’s shoulder. It always made him feel guilty when any of his friends were upset, particularly Gavin, but he’d been so hung up on the same thing for so long. “Are you sure you don’t just want an excuse for the attention to be back on you for a change?”

The lad sat up quickly, pulling away from Geoff and cutting him a confused look. “The hell’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I’m just saying! Going around talking to everyone, being all mopey about not having magic? Pretty good way to get everyone to pay attention to you for a change, right?”

Gavin scoffed at the notion, pushing Geoff away from him. “That’s not what I’m doing at all!” 

“Are you sure?” He asked, arching an eyebrow as Gavin stood up suddenly. 

“Yes.” They’d had a few new members join their ranks, and attention was divided as they worked to expand their little city and network with others, but he hadn’t minded people paying less attention to him. If anything, he enjoyed it. It meant there was less pressure on him to perform. “Now, I’m going. And this time, you’re not allowed to search for me.” 

He didn’t even know where he was going, he just wanted to go away. He wondered if that’s what everyone thought, or if Geoff was just trying to get a rise out of him. If they all thought that way, they’d certainly never said anything of the sort, but this was how people were going to treat him, Gavin didn’t want to be around them.

“What a dick,” he muttered to himself, pulling his cloak tighter around himself as he walked deeper into the forest. It was a beautiful green and gold tapestry, the hues blending together to make a simple but pleasing pattern. The threads had been hand-woven by Matt and enchanted to protect its wearer from whatever may come their way, and it did a remarkable job. 

As he ventured deeper into the woods, the trees grew taller and thicker, blocking out the sun’s rays and sending a chill through the air. As the coldness began to creep in, the cloak kept him warm and made him feel safe. However, it couldn’t protect him from the turmoil inside his own mind. 

----------------------------------------------------

In the city center, Michael was having a different sort of crisis, and his angry shouting could be heard all across the land. 

“You said what to him?!’

His relationship to Gavin was indiscernible at best, no one knew whether they were deeply in love or mortal enemies, but one thing was certain: he was fiercely protective of the fact that he was the only one allowed to bully Gavin, and anyone else could only do so with his permission. Whether they were soulmates or archnemesis, Gavin was his boi first and foremost. 

“I just suggested that maybe being an idiot was his form of magic! It was funny, we were both laughing!” Fiona said, completely oblivious to the way that Michael was shooting daggers her way. Usually Michael played along with her playful teasing of Gavin, so when he didn’t continue to make jokes, she looked over. “Don’t you give me that look, you’re thinking it too.”

“I’m not, though.” Fiona scoffed, and Michael all but growled. “I’m not. You all underestimate him, and when he does find his magic, you’re going to be blown away. All of you will be.” There was a special sort of conviction to his words, one that was usually reserved for saying the most ridiculous things completely stone-faced. 

Michael stormed off after that, ignoring Fiona’s demands for him to keep hanging out with her. Movement came from the bushes on the outskirts of their community, spotted just out of the corner of his eye, but his attention snapped towards it in an instant only to reveal that the movement was caused by Geoff. His eyebrows furrowed as the other tried to pretend like he wasn’t covered in burrs and twigs, like he wasn’t trying to sneak out of the brush and back into the city unnoticed.

“Do you know where Gavin is?” he asked instantly, lifting a hand swiftly to raise a dirt wall behind Geoff, who was trying to retreat back into the bushes as quickly as he’d come out of them. 

“Why would I know where he is?” Geoff asked, his voice pitchy and lilted like he certainly did know where Gavin was, but also that he knew that revealing that information would get him in more trouble with Michael than not at the same time. 

Michael’s eyes narrowed, and he stepped forward, the ground beneath his feet rumbling and propelling him like a moving walkway until he was nose to nose with Geoff. “Because you know where everyone is, you always know.” 

There wasn’t fear in Geoff’s eyes, but the man’s chest rose and fell rapidly with anxious breaths. The staredown was long and tense, though he eventually relented, letting out a long sigh as the wall behind him fell. He wasn’t going anywhere. “I spoke to him in the woods maybe an hour ago, he told me that I’m not allowed to look for him, but here.” He reached into his gear, pulling out a weathered piece of parchment that was rolled and tied with a thin strip of leather. A map, one that he’d made with the same magic that lived in his tattoos, that not only held the lay of the land but also markers for everyone who lived in it. Geoff offered it to Michael, who quickly swiped it from him and unrolled it. “He never said anything about you going after him.” 

The lad hummed quietly as his eyes scanned the map for the forest green marker that indicated Gavin’s name, wordlessly stepping beyond the brush and into the woods towards it. 

“I don’t even get a thank you?!” Geoff cried out behind him, annoyed by the lack of gratitude. The ground beneath his feet rose suddenly, knocking him off his feet and onto the earth. He cried out, flailing his arms in an attempt to stop himself from falling, but it was futile. Michael was already gone.

----------------------------------------------------

The woods looked easy to traverse on the map, and they most likely would have been if Michael had stayed on the trails, but he opted to make a beeline towards Gavin. The terrain was rocky and there were steep cliffs off the beaten path, but it was nothing that he couldn’t handle. He could mend and mold the earth to make it easier to traverse, creating stairs along the cliff faces for an easy descent. The climate was what was really getting to him. The chill in the air was unbearable for him, only getting worse as the sun began to dip down, and he had a bear’s pelt to keep him warm. Gavin’s frame was thinner and frailer than his own, he most likely wasn’t faring any better.

He lit a torch as night fell, raising up dirt and stone walls around himself to block out the cold and keep himself safe from the nocturnal monsters around him. After jamming the torch into the wall, he unfurled his map and saw that Gavin’s marker had stopped moving and was instead spinning around in frantic circles. Evidently, he was trying to make camp for the night as well. With a swift movement of his hand, miles away on the other side of the woods, similar walls raised up around Gavin, and the marker finally stopped moving. Satisfied that his boi was safe, he settled down, wrapping his pelt around himself tightly for warmth as he laid down to sleep. 

----------------------------------------------------

Gavin was startled as the dirt walls rose up around him, terrified that something was trying to trap him within them, though he quickly became at ease when he realized what it meant. Geoff had listened and wasn’t going to be searching for him, but Michael was certainly looking out for him instead. The fear that came from being alone out there dissipated as he ran his fingers down the dirt, pulling out several clumps of roots and knocking bits of earth loose. Dirt walls were less than fancy, but they were a great comfort regardless.

He slept easily through the night with a newfound sense of safety, his cloak pulled tightly around himself for warmth. It worked wonders against the cold. As the sun began to rise, it didn’t emerge from the clouds, the sky grey and dreary as rain began to fall. Gavin could hear the rain hitting the tops of the trees, but even as he began to move none of the drops ever hit him. Above him, the branches of the trees bent and molded, shielding him from the downpours as he walked. No doubt this is Michael’s doing, he thought to himself, a small smile forming on his lips. No matter how much they seemed to argue, the other lad still managed to be protective of him. It was something he was always grateful for, even when the others seemed to give him shit for it. 

His pace that day was slower, more leisurely now that he had calmed down some, but he still had no intentions of going back to the city. If Michael was the only one who cared enough to come for him, they could start their own city far, far away. Together. He quickly shook the thought from his mind, pushing his hood down and taking a look around. Though the trees were tall above him for now, he knew that if he just kept going they’d give way to a beautiful, grassy plain. He couldn’t wait to walk on grass again, the dirt and stones beneath him were starting to make his feet ache. 

Several yards from where he’d first had that thought, he had to stop, kneeling down to untie his boots so he could re-lace them tightly. Moving slowly, he bent down, not wanting to end up with another cut on his knee from landing too hard on a rock like he’d already done far too many times this trek. But the terrain beneath his knee was soft, and as he looked down at his boot, he saw that there was soft, lush grass beneath him. Not dirt. 

“What on earth?” He asked himself, brushing his fingers through it. There was some grass on the forest floor around him, but it was rough and patchy, nothing like this. “Michael’s really outdone himself this time.” With that thought, he smiled to himself before continuing to lace up his boots with deft fingers. Before he stood, he spotted a small wildflower that had bloomed among the blades , and he gently picked it and placed it behind his ear. “What a dope.”

What Gavin didn’t know was that Michael didn’t have the ability to create foliage or flowers underfoot. No one in their community did. And with each step that Gavin took, more of it sprouted up from the dirt beneath him. 

----------------------------------------------------

Night fell again soon enough, and Gavin wasn’t sure where he was. He could’ve sworn that the forest gave way into plains at this point, but instead he found himself in the middle of the desert. Stupidly, he’d continued on, just in case the plains were just beyond it, though now he was too tired to turn back. 

“Maybe Fiona was right,” he muttered as he sat down in the sand, digging his toes into it and wiggling them for some amusement as he propped his cloak up over himself like an umbrella. It was nighttime now, but it would be morning again soon enough. He didn’t want to end up burnt to a crisp before he even woke up. No walls came up around Gavin this time either, so it was up to him to protect himself. 

Gavin leaned forward against his knees, peering up at the night sky for a few long moments. Jeremy had spent many long nights back in the city teaching him the constellations and the stars within them, though he could never tell which ones were real and which ones the lad had made up for his own amusement. Orion was certainly real, but Beauregard’s Chariot was almost certainly not. Almost. He picked that one out, finding comfort in its familiarity, before he decided it was time to get some rest. Toes still in the sand, he laid back, arms crossed beneath his head as he closed his eyes. He had been so focused on the sky that he was unaware of what was happening in the sand beneath him. 

----------------------------------------------------

With Gavin’s slowed pace, Michael was able to start gaining on him. He raced through the trees with even greater speed now that he was beyond the craggy cliffs and difficult landscape, the earth moving beneath him to propel him along. By nighttime, he’d closed in on Gavin’s position, and he was stunned by what he saw.

Smack dab in the middle of the desert, where not even cacti could manage to survive due to the horrible heat and scorching sunbeams, Gavin found himself within an oasis. That same lush grass and wildflowers were no longer just underfoot, but in a wide circle around the lad, almost tall enough to completely hide him from Michael’s view. Small trees were even beginning to grow, supporting Gavin’s cloak above him in place of the flimsy sticks he’d set up before. 

“Gavin?” Michael called softly, stepping forward with caution in case it was a facade, a trap of some sort. The desert was known for causing hallucinations, for preying on the hope of the desperate. That was the kind of magic it held, and it was very skillful at using it. But as he knelt down at the edge of the circle and reached forward to feel the greenery, sure enough, it was real. “What the hell? Gavin! Wake the fuck up!”

The lad sat bolt upright with a start, catching himself in his cloak and fighting it off with all the fierceness of a kitten. Sleep was still gripping him, catching him somewhere between being wide awake and deep asleep, but he was quickly coming to. “Who’s there?!” He shouted, finally tossing his cape away from himself and looking around in confusion. “Michael?” That wasn’t the last thing he expected to see out there, but it wasn’t the first either. “What are you doing here, Michael?”

It had taken everything in Michael not to laugh at the display in front of him, but he quickly wiped the smirk off his face to look offended when Gavin addressed him so incredulously. “Jeez, don’t sound so happy to see me,” he drawled, rolling his eyes before shuffling forward on his knees. “Mind telling me what all this is?” He arched an eyebrow, gesturing to the small haven among the sand. 

However, Gavin had no more answers than Michael did. “I’m not… I’m not sure what it is,” he responded earnestly, glancing between it and the other lad before reaching for his cloak. “I thought you were doing it. You’re not?” Michael shook his head fervently, and Gavin only frowned as he pulled the garment on. “Then who is?”

Michael shrugged a shoulder, humming a soft ‘I don’t know’ before standing, stalking around the mysterious growth. This wasn’t anything that anyone he knew could do, and when he tried to make it happen himself, all he could do was raise the earth itself. He couldn’t make anything grow from it. Which left only one option…

“Come here,” he said suddenly, and Gavin looked at him like he’d asked him to do something insane. “Stand up! Get the hell over here!” When there was still no movement from him, Michael reached forward, hauling Gavin to his feet and yanking him out of the circle. Sure enough, grass sprouted up beneath the lad’s feet, extending the circle and connecting it to wherever he stepped. “Holy shit… Gavin! Look!”

Gavin had thought that Michael was angry at him, scolding him, but the tone of his voice was nothing but excited. Thrilled, even. He followed Michael’s gaze down to his feet, but he wasn’t quick enough to put the pieces together like the other had. “This happened to me back in the forest too! I don’t know what’s going on!”

“You’ve found your magic, that’s what’s going on!” Michael was practically screaming, bouncing on the balls of his feet and looking at Gavin with a big beaming grin. “You can make stuff grow! That’s incredible!” 

That made things click for Gavin, finally, and his grin ended up matching Michael’s. “I can make stuff grow!” Geoff was going to be blown away, everyone was. He wondered if Michael would be okay with them going back to the city immediately, they’d be able to get there by morning thanks to his abilities. “Fiona was right!”

The other bristled immediately, his grin turning to a frown in a fraction of a second. “Fiona was… Right?” She’d told Gavin that his magic was being stupid, that his special ability was being an idiot. This certainly wasn’t that, not by a long shot. “Gavin, this isn’t stupid. This is awesome! Fiona wasn’t right.”

“What? What are you on about? No, she… She said I was made for something better than what everyone else thought. And she was right! Oh, and she’s had such shit luck getting flowers to grow at her place too, no wonder!” Gavin threw his arms around Michael’s neck, wrapping him in a tight hug that was fueled by nothing but pure glee, and he could only hug him back just as tight. “We have to get back there, immediately. Everyone is going to be so jealous, Michael-boi.”

----------------------------------------------------

Some proper rest would’ve been a great benefit to them both, but Gavin had insisted that they return to the city as quickly as possible. The moving ground beneath their feet made it a relatively quick task, and Michael had managed to find a well-worn trail that made it even easier. They were back in the city by sunrise, and while the excitement had died down in Michael to give way to sleepiness, Gavin was no less giddy. Probably because he’d climbed on Michael’s back at one point and managed a small nap. Lucky bastard, Michael had thought to himself when he’d heard the soft snoring in his ear, but he hadn’t woken him up. 

“Michael. Stop here, Michael,” Gavin urged, nearly losing his balance as the dirt beneath him ground to a halt suddenly. They were just outside the city, inside the same bushes that Geoff had attempted to sneak out of a few days prior, hidden from view as residents began to leave their houses to begin their tasks for the day. “I’m gonna get on your back-“

“You’re not taking another fucking nap,” Michael interjected, and the other huffed and waved him off. 

“No! I’m gonna get on your back so I can do a grand reveal, you dolt. The flowers appear when I step, and if I step too soon the surprise will be ruined!”

“Hey, assholes!” Jeremy’s voice boomed across the city center, no doubt hearing the commotion, and Gavin quickly began to scramble onto Michael’s back. 

“Ow! Watch it, you’re gonna knock off my glasses! Stop!” Michael huffed, swatting at Gavin’s hands as they reached for purchase anywhere they could. He stepped out of the bushes once he was settled, looking annoyed while the lad on his back was nothing but gleeful. “Hey, Lil J! I rescued our favorite dumbass. You’re welcome.”

Jeremy couldn’t help but laugh as Gavin let out a little ‘hello!’ and waved, though he was curious about why the other was on Michael’s back. It wasn’t unlike Gavin to demand piggy-back rides. Though normally once Jeremy was in view, he made it his mission to climb onto his shoulders instead. “Gav, are you hurt? What’s going on?” He stepped up with caution, ready to call for help if needed. Injuries weren’t uncommon, but if Gavin needed to be carried, it must’ve been serious. 

“No, the asshole’s not hurt. Not yet, at least. He’s just got a surprise for you,” Michael assured, rolling his eyes. “For everyone, actually. Do me a favor and ring the bell? They’re gonna want to be here for this.”

An eyebrow shot up, but Jeremy was quick to comply with the request. He crossed the city center, grabbing the rope and pulling it once, twice, three times to signal that it was a meeting of utmost importance, but not one that brought bad news. When the bell rang three times, it meant that there were good things to come.

Soon, all of the residents of the city were there, eagerly awaiting to learn the reason for this meeting. Very rarely did the bell ring thrice, and there were hushed whispers and guesses of what was to come. They all fell silent when Michael, with Gavin still on his back, stepped forward.

“I’ve found my magic,” Gavin announced, savoring the look on everyone’s faces as they processed that announcement. Particularly Geoff’s, whose face was twisted into one of apologetic guilt. A sense of satisfaction bubbled up inside of him at that. And of course Fiona was delighted, jumping up and down and pumping her fists, shouting ‘I knew it!’ before she even knew what Gavin’s magic was. It didn’t matter to her. Alfredo and Trevor were also excited, but only because their beloved Dusk Boy had finally joined their ranks, though Jack and Matt simply looked skeptical. He couldn’t blame them, really. Why now? Why did it take so long for him to find it? Those were the questions behind their eyes, and Gavin wished that he had answers for them.

When he felt like he’d let the suspense hang in there air for long enough, he stepped down. For a moment, nothing happened. Matt was about to open his mouth to complain about being dragged out of bed for a grand display of nothing. And then, all at once, a beautiful display of lush grass and flowers appeared at his feet. The more he focused on it, the bigger it grew and the more beautiful it became. No longer was it simply wildflowers, either. In the hours of their journey, he realized he could control the types of flowers that grew. He opted for sunflowers this time. Everyone knew that they were his favorite. It was proof that the magic was his, and not anyone else’s pretending to be his. 

The reactions were mixed, and Gavin deflated a little as several people seemed unimpressed and walked off to return to their duties. It wasn’t the most spectacular power in the world, he knew that, but it was his and he liked it. That was what mattered to him. There wasn’t much time for him to mope though, as Fiona quickly rushed him, wrapping him in a hug and lifting him off his feet. 

“Gavin!” she shouted, stepping back to inspect the flowers closer. She plucked a few blades of grass, feeling them between her fingers. After a few seconds, she gasped, her eyes lighting up. “You can help me grow flowers at my place!”

Gavin laughed, nodding quickly and beaming at her. He could always trust her to cheer him up. “I can, yeah. No wonder you’ve not been able to grow anything.”

“Yeah, cause you stole my green thumb! That’s hardly my fault.”

“Oh, I dunno about that. You should’ve been keeping a closer eye on it.”

They bickered back and forth, Michael watching with a tired but fond smile, until Fiona decided that she’d had enough and thumped Gavin on the side of the head before racing off. The lad was too exhausted to follow, so he just stepped over to Michael, the foliage underfoot following him as he went. Everyone else came up to congratulate him in time, Geoff doing that and apologizing for the harshness of his words in one awkward convoluted mess that Michael wasn’t even sure was an apology, but Gavin understood what the gent was trying to say. He’d learned to decode Geoff Speak over the years. 

Still, the person whose opinion Gavin valued the most was Michael’s, and once the excitement had died down and they’d retreated to their homes to rest, Michael stopped by to give it. 

“I’m real proud of you, Gav,” he said, making himself comfortable on the bed next to the lad without a second thought. 

“Proud of me?” he asked, snatching his blankets back from the lad as he tried to steal them. Michael always did this to him. 

“Yeah. Proud of you. For putting up with the bullshit and finding your magic. Even if it was a total accident.” Michael snorted out a soft laugh and smiled, crossing his arms beneath his head and looking over at the other. “You just lucked into it, just like you lucked into everything else.” 

“Including you?” Gavin arched an eyebrow as he met the other’s gaze, desperately wanting to wipe that smug look off his face.”

“Especially me, are you kidding?” That comment earned him a gentle smack to the chest, a kiss to the cheek, and a mutter of ‘I’m going to make a tree grow through your damn house.’

To everyone else, their relationship was indiscernible at best. But Michael and Gavin knew exactly what they were to each other, they didn’t need anyone else in their business about it. They were partners. Not just in life and love, but in their magic as well. As he learned how to hone and control his abilities, Gavin would decorate the city and beautify the buildings that Michael had created. And once he had mastered his skills, Michael began to create buildings specifically for Gavin to embellish. Dirt roofs became his signature style, the gravity-defying feature held together by the roots of the flowers that Gavin planted into them. The city had never looked better, and even those who were initially unimpressed by Gavin’s abilities had to admit that it was perfectly suited to him. He took great pride in rubbing it in their faces. 

Gavin was happy to not be a member of the mundane anymore. His spirits were higher, and he felt more useful to the city. His abilities, with more practice, extended beyond flowers and grass and into fruit and vegetable plants. The magic that Gavin held could sustain them all. 

Kids? Jeremy didn't have kids, did he? That would definitely be something he was sure about, but he wasn't. Regardless, he followed the order and got up, rubbing his eyes again tiredly. It felt so strange, but at the same time it all felt routine. He followed Michael down the stairs, his body moving on instinct as a toddler came barreling into his legs, scooping her up before they could actually crash into his knees and get hurt. The last thing they needed were tears this morning.

"Daddy said you were being a lazy bones," she chattered as Jeremy scooped her up, and another small giggle came from another room. 

"That's not actually what I said," Michael responded as he entered the kitchen, plating up some food as coffee brewed on the counter beside him. "I said you were being a lazy sack of sh-"

"-No! No swearing!" the child in Jeremy's arms shouted, quickly clamping her hands over Jeremy's ears as if he'd never heard Michael swear before. "You'll have to pay a dollar if he hears you!"

He almost felt like he wasn't in control of his own body, or in control of his own thoughts. The knowledge in his head wasn't his, but somehow it had ended up there anyway. He knew that the child in his arms was named Jenna, and the one giggling from the table was named Lizzy. He knew what they liked and disliked, what made them cry, what stories they liked to be read before bed at night. But how did he know all that? 

"Jeremy?" Michael asked, walking over to take Jenna from the other man when she started to squirm but Jeremy didn’t set her down. "Are you alright? You seem kinda out of it." It wasn't like they'd been drinking the night before, yet Jeremy was acting like he did when he was hungover. Disoriented and slow to move, staring into space until an outside force made him move. A frown settled on Michael's face as he set Jenna down at the table, bringing the two girls their plates of food and turning on the television so they'd be distracted. 

Jeremy shrugged, wordlessly making himself a cup of coffee and stirring the sugar in slow. "I don't know... I feel out of it," he answered, letting out a soft sigh as he lifted the cup to take a sip. This felt right, at least. Some true familiarity to ground him. "I think I'm gonna skip breakfast, I don't really feel hungry.”

That only made Michael's frown deepen, but he wasn't going to force him to eat. "Okay... If you're sure," he said softly, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek and reaching around to give his butt a pinch. "We're talking more later, though." 

Jeremy groaned internally, but he didn't voice his protest. That would just annoy or concern Michael even more than he already had. “Fine.” He walked out of the kitchen to go out to the living room, settling on the couch with his coffee, taking big sips in an effort to feel more awake. It didn’t work.

Trying to sort through everything that was happening only seemed to make Jeremy’s head ache, but he couldn’t keep going in his dazed and confused state. He had to feel real again. 

He didn’t remember getting married to Michael or adopting kids, even though he remembered a wedding and the very long adoption process. The moments were in his brain, but they didn’t feel like they actually involved him. There were photos around the house of himself, Michael, and the two kids, proof he’d been there for those moments and for other small moments as well.

Maybe he’d hit his head last night? Slipped and fallen and knocked himself on the head so hard that he just forgot… All of his life with Michael? He reached a hand up to his head, feeling over the skin for a bump or a bruise or a cut, finding nothing. Besides, if he had, Michael would probably have chided him for it.

Jeremy sighed heavily, setting his coffee cup down and scrubbing his hands over his face. He’d just have to talk to Michael. Maybe he’d know what to do. Or he’d send him off to the hospital for being crazy, but part of him felt like he’d be okay with it if that ended up being the solution. 

After breakfast, Michael helped the girls get dressed and took them to daycare. Usually that was Jeremy’s job, apparently, but they both agreed that he wasn’t in any state to be driving, especially with their kids in the car. When Michael returned from the short trip, Jeremy was still on the couch staring into the space ahead of him, and he stood in front of him with his arms crossed. 

“So what’s your problem today?” The bluntness caught Jeremy off guard some, but it also helped pull him out of his state enough to look at Michael instead of through him. 

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

“No! It’s not! I really don’t know!” He didn’t know why he was shouting. It was more out of frustration with himself than it was with Michael. “I don’t know what my problem is, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“So, what? You’re just… Ignoring the girls now? They seemed so sad in the car, apparently you’re not the fun dad anymore. You’ve always been the fun dad!”

Jeremy struggled to find the words to explain what he was dealing with. “This is going to sound awful. I know it is,” he muttered, leaning forward and putting his face in his hands as he collected his thoughts. Then, he sat up and met Michael’s eyes. “They don’t feel like my kids. This doesn’t feel like my house, or my life. I feel like I just got… Pulled out of my actual life and put here, with all the memories and routines and instincts of whoever I replaced.” 

Michael’s face softened then, all the anger in his eyes fading away as he moved to sit next to Jeremy and wrap his arms around him. He leaned into the other without any hesitation, just letting himself be held. “Jeremy…” His voice was full of sympathy, and he gave the other lad a squeeze. 

“I know. It sounds terrible. But I feel like my mind is just a total fog.” He let out a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “When I woke up this morning, I was scared because I didn’t know where I was. But you were there, and it kind of all felt familiar, and that made things a little less scary, but then… It just felt like something else was moving me, because I wouldn’t know what to do otherwise.” Like a doll being played with. 

Michael didn’t really know what to say, but he dropped an arm from around Jeremy to dig his phone from his pocket. After sending a quick text, he tossed it onto the coffee table and wrapped up Jeremy in his arms again. “Okay… First of all, we’re not going to work. No, you don’t get to argue with me right now. We’re not going,” he stated firmly, laying back on the couch with Jeremy on top of him. “We’re gonna try and get you sorted out before we have to pick the girls back up, I can’t handle the pressure of being the good dad.” 

That made Jeremy chuckle softly, and after only a moment of hesitation did he let himself melt into Michael. Whatever discomforts and fears he may have had, Michael clearly didn’t have the same, so he just let the other take the lead. 

A good part of the rest of the morning was spent on the couch. They stayed there, laying together like that for a few hours until the couch began to make their backs ache. Then they sat together, side by side as they played some shitty game that didn’t require much thinking together. The co-op was terrible, and the player-versus-player stuff was even worse, but the more Michael yelled the more at home Jeremy seemed to feel. It was like it was jarring his brain back into place. 

They took a break for lunch, ordering what seemed like far too much food from McDonalds, but once they got their hands on it it barely managed to last. Food helped him some more too, and slowly Jeremy began to feel like this was his life and it was where he belonged. After lunch they played some more games together, this time deciding to play something that they both enjoyed. 

By the time it was time to pick the girls up from daycare, Jeremy felt whole again. He and Michael still agreed that he shouldn’t drive, but he was still going to go with him to pick them up. He’d let them all down that morning, and he intended to make up for it. The afternoon into the evening was spent as usual it felt like, Michael picking away at achievement in some other game as the girls alternated between pestering him and making Jeremy draw with them. The fridge was adorned with many more drawings by the time they got bored of paper and decided to draw on Jeremy’s head instead. 

“We’re gonna need more magnets,” he remarked, his head stuck into the sink as Michael used a washcloth to try and get the marker off. It wasn’t really working, he’d already resigned himself to wearing a hat to work tomorrow anyway. 

“Oh yeah?” he asked, a small smirk playing across his lips. “Do we really? Or are you finally going to let me take your drawings down from there to make room for more by the real artists in the family?”

“Hey! You’re not allowed to take my drawings off the fridge, that’s a communal gallery space. You buy so much random shit off Amazon, adding some magnets to your cart shouldn’t be that big of a pain in the ass.”

“But Jeremy, it’s so much work. I have to type magnets in the search bar, and then actually click to put them in my cart! It’s so much effort,” Michael whined, laughing widely when Jeremy snatched the washcloth from his hands to smack him with it. The water splashed them both, but it left a wet mark on Michael’s shirt sleeve. 

“Alright, that’s enough out of you.” 

In the evening, Jeremy and Michael cooked dinner together with some ‘help’ from the girls. Jenna mimicked the way that Michael bossed Jeremy around the kitchen, echoing his orders and trailing behind him to make sure they were completed. Each time he looked for Michael for help, he was simply laughed at, and that was also mimicked. In the living room, Lizzy cooked up some side dishes to go with dinner at her kitchen playset. The kitchen was too noisy for her. 

Dinner was pleasant once the cooking of it was done, and Jeremy washed the dishes while Michael got the girls ready for bed. Then, it was story time. The girls had separate rooms, and Michael read to Lizzy while Jeremy read to Jenna. Both were fast asleep before they even got halfway through the books, but they still read them through just in case they were faking it. Most of the time, they were. With the girls asleep in their beds, Jeremy and Michael went off to their room to do the same. 

“You feeling better?” Michael asked from the bathroom as he brushed his teeth, sticking his head through the doorway to eye Jeremy as he changed. 

He nodded, flipping the other off when he whistled as he watched Jeremy change out of his jeans into sweats. “Yeah, thank god. That was really fucking scary. I don’t know what was wrong with me.” 

Michael hummed, dipping back into the bathroom, finishing up in there before coming back out. He wrapped his arms around Jeremy, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Good, cause I was scared too. You’re not allowed to do that shit ever again, got it?”

“Got it.” The promise was sincere, and Michael seemed satisfied with it. 

They crawled into bed, and once again Jeremy was wrapped up in Michael’s arms. It felt right. It felt like home. The other was the first to fall asleep, but Jeremy wasn’t far behind, comforted by the sound of his steady breathing and the feel of his heartbeat. Sleep didn’t normally come easy to him, but after how the day had worn him out, it wasn’t hard for him to drift off into a peaceful slumber. 

The pair were silent for a long time, staring each other down. Jeremy was looking for a reason to get more wound up, to start yelling all over again. Telling off his commander for mistakes that everyone had seemingly let slide for far too long felt really good, and he wanted to keep going. Meanwhile, Trevor was calming down and calculating his next move very carefully. It was fine if his crew wanted to question his authority, they did it plenty and he never took it personally. But as far as he was concerned, Jeremy was no longer crew and no longer privy to that same mercy. After all, he’d quit.

“Fine. You can empty your quarters out and sleep in the observation deck, then. You’re no longer a member of this crew, so you no longer get to stay in crew cabins,” he stated after a few long moments, his tone cold. 

Jeremy blinked in surprise, not expecting Trevor to actually do anything about it. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me. You don’t get a room anymore, those are reserved for the crew. If you’re unhappy with that arrangement, I can tell Lindsay to get the airlock open for you.” 

“You know... If I leave, Michael’s gonna go with me. He goes where I go,” he reminded, though he was no longer yelling confidently. He was stumbling and faltering. Trevor had called his bluff effectively, and it was hard to keep up steam. 

“Then you can help each other clean out your quarters and keep each other warm on the deck,” he responded, shrugging casually. “Finding a new science officer will be just as easy as finding a new pilot.”

“And just how do you expect to get to the next port safely?”

Trevor chuckled softly, smiling. “Lindsay is more than equipped with satisfactory navigational skills, isn’t that right Linds?”

The comms system beeped to life, and a cheerful voice was heard over the speakers. “That’s right, Commander! Jack’s charting us a course as we speak. We’ll be on our way shortly.”

----------------------------------------------------

There was some truth to Lindsay’s words. They were equipped with the best-in-the-market autopilot functionality, but Jack was not charting a course. The entirety of the crew was gathered around a large monitor in the communications bay, watching the whole ordeal unfold through Lindsay’s eyes. There were bets on how it would end. Most of the money was on it ending in blows at this point. 

“Like hell I’m going with him!” Michael shouted, waving his hands and scoffing in disbelief as he looked at the screen. “I’m not idiot enough to throw away a good job when I’ve got it. I mean, sure the place is a shithole, no offense Linds-” 

“None taken.”

“-But like… It’s not like we have to do anything. If I try and find another crew, they may make me do actual work! Can you imagine? I am not going anywhere.”

“I don’t think he’s going to give you a choice,” Jack said from beside him, the others all nodding in agreement. “I think you’re gonna have to go with him.” 

Michael huffed, rolling his eyes and turning up the volume on the terminal. “If there’s one thing you fuckers should’ve learned about me right now, it’s this: I don’t have to do shit. Especially not for my boyfriend.” 

----------------------------------------------------

Jeremy grumbled to himself as he packed up his things. Michael was, of course, no help. He just stood in the doorway and spectated, making snide remarks when he saw fit. 

“You know, I’d really appreciate it if you could be on my side with this,” Jeremy said, balling up a shirt and throwing it at him. “Or at the very least, help me pack.”

Michael laughed, knocking away the shirt before it hit him in the face. “Fuck no, you dug this hole yourself. I’m not the moron who quit.”

“This place is a shithole and you know it.”

“Yeah, but you never have to fix any of it! You just have to sit there in your comfy pilot chair and wait for Gavin to do it.” Had Michael always been a little jealous of his boyfriend’s job? A little bit. The med bay was cold and unwelcoming, but the cockpit was cushy and warm. Plus, with Lindsay on board, the pilot didn’t really have to do much at all unless their systems went down. Which, to be fair, did happen a lot. “You pilots are always so snooty. You knew what you were getting into when you took this gig, you can’t expect it to be like the Ritz now.”

“Just fucking go,” Jeremy muttered, swiping up the last of his clothes from the floor. “Don’t even bother visiting, either.” The comment hurt them both, but that didn’t make him mean it any less. He didn’t want Michael to visit, he wanted him to stay at the port with him. 

The other just laughed heartily and shook his head, turning on his heel to leave. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

----------------------------------------------------

The observation deck was, as it always was, cold and lonely. The warm blankets and fluffy pillows that were on his bed were technically part of the quarters he had previously taken residence in, so all Jeremy had to sleep on was the metal floor, cushioned by his clothing and a few other soft belongings. The things that he owned that were unfit for laying on were stacked around him. The observation deck’s window was huge, and as he laid there unable to sleep, the vastness of space no longer brought him the same comfort it had when he was in the pilot’s seat. 

“Hey, Lindsay?”

The comms beeped to life once more. “Yes, Jeremy?”

“Am I making a mistake?” He asked, sitting up and leaning back against the stack. 

There were a few long seconds of contemplative silence before they spoke again. “Yeah, you are. A huge one, I’d say.”

“That’s not really comforting... I don’t suppose Trevor would be willing to… Reconsider?”

“No, I don’t think so. You insulted the ship. The commander takes that personally.” Lindsay did too, but they figured that Jeremy already felt guilty enough without them piling on as well. 

“C’mon, you know I didn’t mean it.” 

“Do I, though? Because I really don’t think I do,” they stated. Maybe Jeremy didn’t feel as guilty as they had hoped, so their politeness parameters were temporarily suspended. “This is a ship made from stolen parts, what do you expect? For everything to run perfectly all the time? If you wanted that, you should’ve signed up for one of the legal spacefarers out there,” they quipped. If they had eyes, they would have rolled them. 

Jeremy sighed heavily, sinking down the wall and burying his face in his hands. Maybe it wasn’t too late to take Trevor up on that airlock offer, he was sure he’d be happy to oblige.

“Is Michael going with you?” Lindsay asked after a few minutes, breaking the silence and sounding innocent enough. Jeremy couldn’t tell whether they wanted a yes or a no, but there was no use lying to them. They’d seen Jeremy packing alone, his quarters empty while Michael’s were still very much full. 

“No,” he responded, shaking his head, “No, he’s not. He’s gonna be staying on board.”

“Oh, good. I like him. I’d be sad if he left.”

“But you’re not sad that I’m leaving?” There was no response to his words, just the comms beeping to signal that Lindsay wouldn’t be answering more of his questions. Jeremy sighed again and lowered his hands, staring back out at the stars. “I don’t even think that Michael’s sad that I’m leaving,” he muttered to himself, laying back down in his pile of clothes and shoving an old jacket under his head for a makeshift pillow.

He couldn’t exactly blame him for it, either. Maybe he could’ve been a better boyfriend, maybe he should’ve just bitten his tongue and held back whatever criticisms he had of Trevor and the ship. But part of this felt like it was inevitable, like he was always going to blow up like this. The worst part was that he didn’t even feel guilty about any of it, he was only sorry that speaking up had the consequences that it had. It was hard to have any regrets about it when he fully believed he was doing the right thing, though.

----------------------------------------------------

It only took them another week to reach the nearest spaceport, some podunk trading and tourist hub located pretty centrally to all the bigger colonies. Trevor liked it because they’d be able to stock up on supplies without having to scrounge or overpay. That was something that desperately needed doing, the last few ports had single rations sold for thousands of credits or reasonably priced ones that were nearly a century past date. Plus, they’d have pretty good odds at finding a replacement pilot there too. Jeremy liked it because it didn’t seem like the worst place to be booted onto, he could find work with another crew or in the port pretty easily. Everyone else liked it because being at port meant a few days of rest. Lindsay didn’t have to worry about some of the more power-hungry systems that came with flying a ship, which meant that Gavin didn’t have to run around making patchwork repairs at every hour of the day. But for some, their work didn’t stop. Matt always had to keep his ear to the radio for any incoming transmissions, and Michael and Fiona could only leave their experiments and samples unattended for so long before there were catastrophic results.

Reaching port this time was different this time around, though. They’d never had to say goodbye to one of their own before. Jeremy had been permitted one last night on the ship, but in the morning he’d have to go. To honor that last night, Gavin and Michael decided to organize a going away party for their fellow lad, complete with drinks and proper food (not just freeze-dried rations that pretended to be edible) and parting gifts. 

It made Jeremy feel better about going when he saw how sad everyone seemed to be, how sincere they were in expressing how much they would miss him. He’d convinced himself that they all hated him for speaking out the way that he had, no one had come to speak to him in the observation deck and the only time he saw anyone was when he was brought his rations, but the party was a good indication that they didn’t hate him: they just pitied him. 

Michael was certainly the most upset, despite the fact that he’d pretended to be unbothered only a week prior. Even if they had to do it from lightyears away, they promised each other they’d find a way to make things work. The communication technology was there, they’d still be able to talk. Michael was just glad that he wouldn’t have to worry too much about Jeremy while he was gone. It was a busy port, there’d be plenty of people around looking to hire a skilled pilot. And even if he couldn’t find work right away, it was safe enough that he could stay there for a while without running into any trouble unless he went looking. 

Despite all the fun of the festivities, Trevor’s absence was hard to miss. Jeremy had to admit that he’d been foolish for expecting it, but not getting a final goodbye from his former commander stung. 

However, Trevor had decided that his day was best spent working instead of partying, arranging for fresh shipments of supplies to be loaded into the cargo bay and beginning his search for a new pilot. The first task was successful, the latter one… Not so much. No one was really giving him the time of day, not believing him when he told them he captained his own ship and could afford to pay handsomely for work. Or they simply weren’t interested in the cargo that would need to be transported. After he was fed a lot of bullshit from people who clearly didn’t know anything trying to weasel their way onto his ship, he reached his limit and returned to the ship, thoroughly disheartened by the end of the night.

Trevor spent the evening in his quarters, agonizing over the situation for a few hours. There were a few solid candidates when he looked past all their unfavorable qualities, but he still wasn’t thrilled about any of them. Everyone was busy partying with Jeremy, he was grateful for the peace while he tried to work something out. The only thing that pulled him out of his thoughts was Lindsay’s chime. Usually that signaled that he’d been working for too long and it was time to get some rest, so he began to stand up, stretching his arms out over his head to ease away the stiffness.

“Commander, Gavin’s outside the door. Should I let him in?” They asked, sending a feed to his terminal of the lad standing outside the doors. He sat back down slowly, squinting as he looked at the grainy footage on the screen. 

“Does he look like he’s carrying any stink bombs? I can’t tell.” 

There were a few moments of silent examination before the comms beeped to life again. “Nope, he’s clear.” 

Trevor waved in approval then, twisting around in his chair to face the door. “Let him in, then.” 

The doors slid open to reveal Gavin standing there, fortunately empty-handed, with a smile on his face. “Commander! Missed you at the party, you should’ve been there! I saved you a bev, if you want it.” 

“No thanks. Some of us had actual work to do, y’know.” He paused, looking the other up and down. It was always hard to read Gavin, he was always brimming with so much energy, it was hard to tell if his fidgeting was excited stimming or covering up for anxious nerves. There was no telling what he wanted to share. “I really hope you didn’t come here just to chastise me for not going to a party for someone who couldn’t stop insulting the ship every chance he got.”

“Nah, I get it. No one insults our Lindsay and gets away with it. But… I do think I can help with some of your problems.” Trevor arched an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. “I know a pilot at this port. He’s one of the best. Well, actually, he is the best. And! He owes me a favor! So he’ll definitely be taking the job.”

“If he’s the best, how can you be sure he’s not currently in a crew?”

Gavin laughed at that, and Trevor’s face turned to one of confusion. “He’s rather picky about the jobs he takes. And, like I said: He owes me.”

He was quiet for a few moments, biting his lip as he thought it over. Gavin hadn’t led him astray before, it was how they’d ended up with Michael and Fiona on the crew, but it all felt a little too good to be true. Coincidences made him uneasy, but what choice did he have? “How soon can I meet him?”

“Tomorrow, if you’d like.”

“I’d like to, yeah. After breakfast. Lindsay, set an alarm for the engineering bay to make sure Gavin wakes up in time.”

“Yes, commander.”

“Hey!”

Trevor grinned as the other pouted. “Anything else, Gav?”

Gavin flipped him off before breaking out into a grin of his own. “Nope! That’s it. I should get back to the engines ‘case they bust again, but I’m happy to be of service. See you tomorrow, Trev.”

“See you tomorrow, Gavin. Get some rest, don’t stay up too late pestering Matt.”

“Will do, won’t do, goodnight!”

----------------------------------------------------

The next morning came soon enough, the crew having breakfast together for a change since Michael had been kind enough to grab some fresh ingredients and cook them a nice meal. It was refreshing to have real food, not just the usual freeze-dried rations or nutrient slurries they normally relied on. And real coffee was always a treat, though no one would dare insult Fiona’s synthesized seaweed coffee replacement for fear of losing the one caffeine source they had between stops. 

After the meal, Gavin and Trevor set out as planned. They had a pilot to search for, and the lad wouldn’t stop ranting and raving about how great this guy was supposed to be. Trevor just hoped that he was going to live up to all the hype.

“When you said this guy is picky about the jobs he takes, just how picky did you mean?” He asked as they searched through the first hotspot. There were a few places this mysterious pilot liked to hang out in apparently, and there was no telling which one he’d be at. 

Gavin chuckled softly, glancing over at Trevor with a smile until he realized he was being serious. Then, he just shrugged a shoulder. “I dunno. He won’t complain about the ship, if that’s what you mean.”

“Kind of. I just want to make sure he’s not too high class to run the sort of jobs we run.”

“Oh, trust me. He’s not. He is exactly low class enough to run these sort of jobs. But, y’know, like everyone else he wants to make sure the money’s real, and that he’s not gonna end up space dust.” 

“Fair enough.” Those were reasonable requests, and ones that were easy enough for Trevor to guarantee. No one on his crew ever ran out of credits, and no one had gotten seriously injured on a job. The ‘on the job’ part was the most important part of that sentence, because injuries did still happen around the ship, despite everyone’s best efforts. 

Spots two and three were as equally bust as the first one, but Gavin was just as determined as he’d been at breakfast. Trevor, not so much. It was well past mid-day by the time they reached the fifth spot, some sort of hotel and lounge for people to catch their breath and put their feet up. 

The moment they stepped in the door, there was a big beaming grin on Gavin’s face. “Fredo!” He shouted, raising his arms as he cheered. “Took us long enough to find you!”

The man in question was seated casually on a sofa, nose buried in a magazine, though his attention was broken by Gavin’s shouting cutting through the ambiance. “Gavin?” He asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion as he set his magazine aside and stood. “What the hell are you doing so far out?”

“Ah, well, that’s a bit of a long story,” he said, waving a hand to dismiss the question as he walked up to the man and wrapped an arm around him. He dragged him over to Trevor, still beaming. “Trevor, this is Alfredo. Best pilot on this side of the universe. On both sides, probably, but he doesn’t like to brag. And Alfredo, this is Trevor. He’s the big boss of the Morrigan.”

“I, uh… Yeah, that’s me. I’m the cap- The commander.”

“Cat got your tongue, Commander?” Alfredo asked, smirking as the other’s face tinted red. “C’mon, let’s go somewhere else and chat. There’s way too many people listening in out here.”

----------------------------------------------------

They ended up in Alfredo’s room, crowded around the small table underneath a dim light. However, Trevor didn’t need a lot of light to get a read on someone, and he noticed a lot of things about their potential new pilot in a short time. He didn’t fidget like Gavin did, each movement seemed like it was with purpose, but sometimes he’d flex his fingers and roll his wrists. It told him that he was as experienced as Gavin said, because Jeremy had started to do the same thing after a long time behind the helm. His jacket was well worn, the red still bright in some spots but faded in others, and patched in places where it’d been damaged. That told him that Alfredo wasn’t afraid of a fight, and he was resourceful enough to not let good things go to waste. All good things, in his book. 

“So, what’s your offer?” Alfredo asked, breaking the silence once they’d all gotten settled around the table. 

“My… Offer?” 

“Yeah. If I work for you, what do I get?”

Trevor and Gavin looked at each other for a moment, the latter stunned by the bluntness of the question, but the former was used to unprofessionalism like that. In fact, he preferred it. “Well, for starters, a spot on the ship. You get your own private quarters. However, you really are there as a backup to our ship’s computer in case things get extra… Challenging. They’re good, but there’s limits to every AI.”

Alfredo’s eyebrows raised at that. He’d never been on a ship that had a computer like that on it before. “Sounds like a fancy ship.”

Gavin snorted out a laugh, shaking his head quickly. “Trust me, it’s not. It’s all cobbled together, and the only reason we ended up with Lindsay was because their system was gonna be salvage otherwise.” 

“Right…” He cleared his throat, looking back to Trevor. “What about money?”

“We all get an equal cut of the credits. We’re all important on the Morrigan, no one gets more or less than anyone else.” Everyone put in a lot of work to keep the ship running smoothly, sometimes Trevor felt like he wasn’t doing enough in comparison. Every now and then, he’d take less from his own cut to give everyone else a little more. It felt fair. “And we kind of just go wherever when we’re not running jobs.”

Alfredo was quiet for a few moments, thinking things over. He knew he owed Gavin a favor, but at the same time this whole deal seemed too good to be true. No commander was ever this reasonable, this good to his crew. “Can you go wait outside for a minute? I’d like to talk to Gavin,” he said finally, and Trevor was happy to oblige. He didn’t take his eyes off the other man until the door closing forced him too, then they were fixed on Gavin. “This smells like bullshit.”

“I’m telling you Fredy, it’s not. We all get an equal cut, the rooms are pretty damn lush, and the jobs are alright. I don’t do much but patch up the ship after them, but we haven’t had any major hull breaches yet.” He seemed quite proud of himself for that, but deflated when Alfredo didn’t respond in kind. 

“Yeah, but what about your last pilot? What happened to them? No one just leaves a gig this good.”

“Ah, well… Actually, some do. There were a few… Disagreements. He wasn’t happy on the ship, and Trevor doesn’t like when people insult the Morrigan, or Lindsay,” he explained, choosing his words carefully. He wasn’t sure either of the men involved would be happy if the story started to get spread. “But it’s a good ship, a good crew, and Trevor’s a good man. Plus, you owe me.”

“I know, and that’s the worst part!” He groaned, slumping forward with his face in his hands. “I hate owing you, you always make people pay you back in the worst possible ways!”

“Oi! I’m getting you a job!”

“Yeah, and it all sounds shady as shit! I know you’re smugglers, but damn. Trevor’s cold.”

Gavin just chuckled softly, because he couldn’t exactly disagree with him. The commander had his moments, but didn’t everyone? “Look, Fredo. You need this, and we need you. So just… Take the job, would you?” 

Alfredo chewed the inside his lip as he thought it over, letting out a long sigh after a minute. “Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” Gavin said with a grin, clapping Alfredo on the shoulder before yelling for Trevor to come back inside. 

He genuinely couldn’t guess what they had been talking about in there, but judging by the look on Gavin’s face it was something good. “You’ve decided, then?” He asked Alfredo as he took his seat again.

“He has! He said that he’d joi-“

“-Gavin, dude. Let me talk,” he said, swatting at the other man to get him to shut up. “I’ll join your crew, on one condition…” He trailed off, wanting to gauge the other’s response before he continued.

“And that is?” Trevor asked, arching an eyebrow and waiting for him to go on. 

“I have some cargo I need to get off this asteroid. It’ll be a win/win for the both of us: You get to see how good I fly, I get this job off my back, and you, me, and your crew get to split the money.”

It’d be a good reason to get out of the spaceport faster too. Trevor wasn’t planning on leaving until they had a job anyway and now one had fallen right into their laps with a new pilot in hand. “Sounds like a deal to me,” he said, reaching a hand out for Alfredo to shake and smiling across the table at him. It was a genuine smile, the facade of the stern negotiator falling away. 

Alfredo grinned right back at him, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. “Hell yes.”

“We can get into the details of the job back on the ship, but I wanna introduce you to your new crew first.”

“Oh, you’re gonna love them, Fredo. They’re all brilliant.” 

----------------------------------------------------

The Morrigan welcomed its commander back onto the ship with a cheerful musical tone, the doors sliding open as he approached with Gavin and Alfredo in tow. 

“Oh, now who’s this?” Lindsay asked, curious about the new arrival. If they were being honest, they hadn’t expected Gavin to be telling the truth about knowing a pilot, or for Trevor to be convincing enough to get him to join. Their expectations weren’t pessimistic, just realistic. They knew their crew.

“Lindsay! Hey there, perfect timing,” Trevor said with a grin as Gavin scurried off to go gather the rest of the crew. “This is Alfredo, he’s gonna be our new pilot! And Alfredo, this is Lindsay, our ship's computer, and your co-pilot. If you have any questions about the ship, they’ll be the one to ask.”

“That’s right!” They chirped, “Not to brag or anything, but I know more about this ship than anyone, except maybe Gavin. We’re about equal, but don’t tell him I said that!”

Alfredo chuckled, amused by just how much personality this supposed AI had. “Are you sure there’s not a person on the other side of those comms, commander?”

Trevor simply shook his head. “Nope, just a Lindsay!” He answered, motioning for Alfredo to follow him as he led him further into the ship. Doors opened and shut behind them automatically as they went, which meant that Lindsay was keeping a close eye on them. They’d really taken Jeremy’s comments about the ship to heart, and they had to make sure the new guy wasn’t going to say the same thing. 

“No offense, but… How does a ship like this afford a computer like that? I know how much these jobs make, and how much those things cost, and… The math just isn’t adding up.”

The speakers beeped to life with a gentle tone, and Lindsay spoke up for themselves. “I was a rejected version of an even more advanced system, but because of how advanced I still was, they couldn’t just shut me down and wipe out all my data. So, they put me up for sale instead.”

“We got a pretty good deal on them, actually. No one really wants a buggy AI, too much of a risk or whatever, but for a smuggling crew who doesn’t care about perfection, they’re perfect.” The bugs that the programmers had rejected Lindsay for were hardly even bugs in Trevor’s eyes, they were just things that made them too hard to control. There was no speech filter, no way to control them or make them do whatever you wanted, which is why they’d been rejected. You had to treat them like a person, and their programmers had hated that. 

Alfredo was genuinely impressed by the state of the ship, and how smoothly things seemed to run on the surface. Lindsay gave him a quick brief on the engine the ship was powered by and some tips for when he was at the controls to help work around some of its quirks. By the time their spiel was done, they’d reached the bridge where everyone had been gathered so they could get introductions out of the way all at once instead of hunting people down one by one.

The Morrigan was no small ship, and its crew matched it. It was, by far, the largest smuggling ship that Alfredo had ever stepped foot in. Probably the happiest as well. Every role had a person to fill it, and none of them seemed to have many complaints either. 

The first person to speak up and introduce herself was Jack, the ship’s navigations officer. She worked with Lindsay to chart their courses, keeping in mind everything that they’d have to avoid ranging from rogue space debris to the ever annoying authorities. The three of them would be working very closely together, so Alfredo was glad that she spoke up first. 

Michael and Fiona introduced themselves next, the former being the ship’s medical officer and physician while the latter was a scientist. She had her own experiments to run, but she also spent a lot of time helping Michael keep everyone on board the ship healthy. It was a much more difficult task than one would expect, apparently. Alfredo asked Fiona what she was doing on the ship, but she refused to say anything more than “nunya business,” and Trevor insisted that it was better if he didn’t know, so he dropped the subject. 

The communications officer introduced himself after that. Matt was more quiet and reserved than everyone else seemed to be, but he still seemed quite content in his role. It seemed like there wasn’t much to do - there were no aliens trying to make contact, or even that many other ships for that matter - so he spent a lot of his time misusing the comms to catch up on radio shows from Earth or the other space outposts. 

“Alright! Well, feel free to hang out with everyone for a bit,” Trevor said, noticeably relieved that everyone seemed to like Alfredo, and vice-versa. It was a good first step. Gavin was usually a pretty good judge of character, but one could never be too careful. 

“You’re not gonna stick around?” Alfredo asked, frowning a little. “You can’t just leave me alone with these guys.” That comment was hushed, he didn’t want anyone else to hear. 

“Sure I can. I’ve got some work to do, and besides, they don’t bite.” He looked pointedly at Michael. “Usually.” Alfredo whirled around to follow Trevor’s gaze, eyes going wide as Michael snarled at him. The pair broke out into laughter, making Alfredo huff in displeasure.

“That’s not funny, man.”

“Sorry, sorry, couldn’t resist. Just… Relax.” He put his hands on the other’s shoulders, giving him a little shake. “Everyone here is great, they’re the nicest people on this side of the galaxy. You’re gonna have to get to know them eventually, so you might as well start now. I got some work I gotta do to get us loaded up, but come up to my quarters later. We need to hammer out the details of that job so we can get outta here soon.”

Alfredo nodded slowly, mumbling a confirmation and watching as Trevor turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Michael and Gavin slammed a hand down onto each of his shoulders, snapping him out of his trance as they whirled him around. 

“C’mon, Alfredo! We’ve still got some booze leftover from Jeremy’s going away party,” Michael told him with a wicked grin, “Jack makes the best drinks, you gotta try one.”

“I dunno... I just joined, is that really smart?”

“Is what smart?” 

“Drinking.”

“Nah,” Gavin scoffed, shaking his head quickly. “Drinking’s always smart, trust me.”

Alfredo rolled his eyes. He knew firsthand that trusting Gavin was a bad idea when it came to alcohol, but on the other hand… Maybe it’d be a good way to get more comfortable around everyone. He was still a little wary, and a little overwhelmed by the sheer size of the crew, some help feeling more at ease was definitely welcome. It was called liquid courage for a reason. 

And after a few drinks, he certainly felt more at ease. At the same time, it was weird being accepted so quickly. Sometimes he was stuck on his own, even when he was on a crew. Space had a tendency to be a very lonely and isolating place, it seemed like these people were well aware of the fact, and worked hard to make sure no one fell victim to its clutches. Fiona saw him standing off to the side, trying to edge away from all the excitement, and dragged him right into it. Jack gave him drinks when she spotted an empty cup, alternating between alcoholic and not to make sure he didn’t end up too far gone. And Michael and Gavin were something else entirely, wasting no time in filling him in on the latest ship gossip and ongoing pranks. Ultimately, he decided that he’d made a good choice in trusting Gavin and joining the Morrigan. 

When the festivities died down and everyone began to clean up and retreat to their quarters, Alfredo took it as his sign to go and find Trevor and discuss the job with him. Finding his quarters was easy enough, but he hesitated outside. 

“He already knows you’re there, you know,” Lindsay piped up, giggling when they saw Alfredo jump and search around for the source of their voice. It was all around them, coming through every speaker in that part of the hall. “He’s got a video feed that shows the hall outside of his door. Put it in after Gavin pranked him a few too many times,” they added, this time only speaking from the nearest speaker. 

“Yeah, Gavin’s always been one for pranks.” He stepped closer to the door, but still didn’t go in.

They hummed softly, some sensors whirring in a far off room of the Morrigan. “Why are you hesitating?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because!” Alfredo gestured in exasperation, activating the door’s motion sensor. He jumped again as it slid open, staring through it and making eye contact with Trevor, who was seated at his desk and smiling knowingly. 

“Thank you, Lindsay.”

“Any time, commander! That trick never fails.”

Alfredo looked at Trevor with wide eyes, stammering out an excuse that was immediately waved off. “Just come on in, there’s no use putting it off,” he told him. “The sooner we get things sorted, the sooner we can get out of the port.”

“Why the rush?” He asked as he stepped inside, the door sliding shut behind him with a loud thunk. “It’s pretty nice, as far as spaceports go.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got a disgruntled former pilot hanging around here now, and I really don’t want him deciding that he wants to get revenge.”

“Fair enough.” Alfredo sat down in the chair across from Trevor, watching him from across the desk. When the other didn’t speak right away, he took it as an opportunity to do so instead. “So, the job. It’s several crates of cargo, will you have enough space in the hold for all of that?”

“How many is several, exactly?”

“About ten, all pretty decently sized. A yard or two each way, at least.”

Trevor chuckled, nodding as he made a note. “Oh yeah, we’ll have plenty of room. I’ve got some supplies getting loaded up tomorrow, if you talk to a man named Geoff at the mercantile he’ll be sure to slip ‘em in, make sure no one suspects anything.”

Alfredo raised his eyebrows, impressed. “That’s it? No questions about the cargo?”

Trevor let out a long sigh at that, lifting his eyes from his notebook to look at him. “Usually, I don’t want to know. It’s not my business to know. I’m not paid to know,” he explained, waiting until the other nodded in understanding to carry on. “But, since you brought it up, I feel like I should ask… Is it alive?”

“Uh… Yeah, it is.”

“Is it people? Cause I don’t do that shit.”

“What? No. No! It’s… Well, it’s-“

“Is it gonna break out of the crates and kill us in our sleep?”

Alfredo didn’t have an immediate answer to that one. Trevor didn’t find that comforting. 

“Probably not?”

They stared at each other for a few moments, gauging each other’s reactions until Trevor broke the silence. “Works for me! Like I said, talk to Geoff at the mercantile, let him know where you keep everything, he’ll get it all worked out.” He extended his hand, offering it to Alfredo for him to shake. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Alfredo.”

“Likewise,” the other man said, reaching out and giving Trevor’s hand a firm shake. “The Morrigan seems like a real nice ship, I can’t wait to see how they fly.”

With that, Alfredo took his leave, but Trevor kept his eyes on the door long after he walked out. 

The comms beeped to life, and Lindsay spoke from a speaker on Trevor’s desk. “I like him already.”

“Yeah, I do too,” he said whimsically before shaking his head to clear the thoughts from his mind and pointing a finger at the speaker. “I never said that. You didn’t hear that.”

“Of course, Commander. I heard nothing.”

----------------------------------------------------

The cargo was loaded up without issue the following day. All Alfredo had to do was give the boxes a small mark once they were in the hold, that way they’d know what was the smuggled cargo, but that was an easy enough task. They spent a few more hours at the port, letting everyone do a small tour around for some shopping and giving Michael a chance to say some goodbyes to Jeremy before they set out. 

“Alright, let’s see how this baby flies,” Alfredo said with a grin once he was in the pilot’s seat, cracking his knuckles. This was the one place where he truly felt confident and in his element, and it was so good to be back where he belonged. “Jack, we got a course set?”

“Yup, Lindsay’s got all the info, and there should be a copy of it there on your terminal,” Jack said from her station, turning in her seat to look at Alfredo and give him a thumbs up. She grinned as she got one in return. 

“Sweet. Lindsay, you ready to take off?” 

A few melodic beeps came through the speakers as they checked in with Gavin to make sure the engines were all in working order, then they spoke. “I am! Gavin’s on standby in case anything goes wrong, too.”

“Perfect, start the launch sequence for me, please?”

“Ooh, how polite! I like this one,” they hummed, and Jack laughed softly from her station at the way Alfredo’s cheeks tinged pink. “Sure thing, Fredo. One launch sequence, coming right up!”

The Morrigan shook and creaked as the engines fired up, groaning with effort as the sound roared through the engineering bay and echoed around the spaceport. It was a big ship that required a lot of power to get going, even more so to break away from the gravitational field surrounding the port, and every time they took the crew was terrified that it would come apart at the seams under the pressure. But, like it did every time before, it pulled through, and it wasn’t long until they were up in the atmosphere and out into space. 

“Wow,” Alfredo breathed, slumping back in his chair once things had stabilized. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath. “Is it always like that?”

Trevor chuckled from behind him, smiling and nodding. “Yeah, pretty much.” He walked up and patted Alfredo on the shoulder, making eye contact with him in the window’s reflection before looking past it at the stars. “Get used to it, buddy.” The clanking of the ship he’d long since learned to tune out, but seeing the stars? It never got old to him. They were just as beautiful every time he saw them, and it was easy to get lost looking at them as they went by. 

“Guess I’m gonna have to.” It was clear that Trevor was lost in thought, so Alfredo just nudged his hand from his shoulder and leaned to look around him at Jack. “How we lookin’? Smooth sailing?”

“Smooth sailing. No asteroids, no authorities, no other ships if we’re lucky. I’ll let you know if that changes, though. It’ll take us a while to get to our next stop, few days at the most.”

“Can this thing handle lightspeed?”

Jack and Lindsay both broke out into laughter, and even Trevor snapped out of his trance to join in. 

“Absolutely not,” Lindsay told him, laughing brightly. They took great pride in the Morrigan, but even they knew its limits. “We’ve been trying to get our hands on a new warp drive for a while now, but no such luck. We’re stuck inside this solar system for the time being, unfortunately.”

“Put my cut from the job towards one, then.” Trevor’s eyebrows shot up, and he met Alfredo’s eyes through the reflection once more. “I’m serious. The further you can travel, the better jobs you can get.” And even for short distances, Alfredo wasn’t really one for travelling at a space snail’s pace. “The better jobs you get, the more money you make.” 

Trevor couldn’t disagree with that logic, so he simply just nodded in approval. “I’ll start putting my cut towards one too, then.” 

“Seriously?” Jack piped up, “like Gavin doesn’t have enough to fix around here?”

The commander turned towards her, arching an eyebrow. “Everyone’s free to spend their cut on whatever they like, and that’s how Alfredo and I are choosing to use ours. Do I say anything when you spend it on baseball cards just cause Geoff and Gav talked about ‘em?”

“No…”

“No, I don’t. So, you mind your business, and I’ll mind mine.” Trevor could take a ribbing as good as the rest of the ship’s crew, but there were some things he just wouldn’t take. The ship was still a very sore subject for him. Jack let out a long sigh but nodded, knowing that there was no use in pushing the matter further. “So, Alfredo. You don’t have to stay here all the time, Lindsay’ll put an alarm out if there’s any immediate threats you’re needed for. I don’t expect you to be sitting here all day, every day. That’d just be mean.”

Alfredo nodded in understanding, spinning around in the chair to get a look at Trevor. “I’ll probably hang out here most of the day, though. Nice view, y’know? Plus I wouldn’t want Lindsay and Jack to get bored,” he joked, cracking a smile. 

“Good plan.” Trevor nodded in approval before he spun around to leave, though he lingered just out of sight. Alfredo was agreeable, almost too agreeable. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the guy, or that he cared if he was a troublemaker, but it was certainly an oddity to have a crewmember that actually wanted to do their job. There had to be a catch. There was always a catch. 

Jack scoffed from her seat once she thought Trevor was gone, glancing over at Alfredo from her terminal. “You let him walk all over you, dude.”

“He’s the boss, I’m gonna listen to him,” he responded simply, looking to her for barely a second before his eyes were back on the stars. 

“Yeah, but you can push back a little, he’s not gonna bite your head off for it.”

“He gets enough of that from the rest of you assholes.”

“Whoa, okay. Just trying to help.” 

Alfredo turned in his chair then, meeting Jack’s eyes. “I don’t need your help. Did you hear what Trevor said? ‘You mind your business, I’ll mind mine?’ That goes for me too.” He’d put up with enough bullshit from the other crews he’d been a part of and jobs he’d taken, and he wasn’t going to let this be like the rest of them. He knew the difference between letting himself get pushed over and keeping his head below the fenceline so he didn’t end up losing it. 

They stared each other down for a few long moments, sizing each other up. Jack realized then that she’d misjudged Alfredo. He wasn’t some rookie pilot pulled off the streets, he was the real deal, and he wasn’t going to take any shit from anyone. On the other hand, Alfredo realized that he’d judged Jack correctly, and he didn’t like antagonists much. He knew he’d warm up to her eventually, he had to if he didn’t want this whole thing to fall through, but that was an awfully bad start. 

Lindsay couldn’t stand the tension that was building in the room, making the air so thick that the vent system was having a hard time sucking it up for purification. So they did the only thing they could to break it: Sound a station-wide alarm. Trevor had to come out of his hiding spot then, running up to the main console to check the system. 

“Lindsay, what the hell’s going on?!” He asked, having to shout over the blaring alarm. 

“I don’t know, the alarm just started going off!” They shouted back, sounding panicked, although it was all an act. They pretended to flounder for a moment, making sure that there was enough time for the tension to fade entirely and that Alfredo and Jack had forgotten about their spat before they killed the alarm. “There! All sorted, I think it was just a crossed wire or something. Crazy, huh?” They could tell that Trevor didn’t quite believe them, but at least Jack and Alfredo had gotten back to work. “Maybe you should stick around for a bit, commander. Just to make sure nothing like that happens again.”

“Hm.” He hummed as he took a seat in the commander’s chair, kicking his feet up onto the console in front of him. There was no way to tell what they were playing at, but keeping an eye on the new recruit wasn’t exactly a bad idea, especially if Jack was going to be giving him trouble. “I think you’re right, Lindsay. Can’t be having any trouble on the bridge now, can we? Good call.”

“No commander, we can’t. And thank you.”

----------------------------------------------------

Things were quiet for a few days. Too quiet. There were the usual pranks and fights and other nonsense, but there were no large scale problems. Any commander would be happy about that and proud of their crew for avoiding disaster, but not Trevor. On the Morrigan, that meant there was a ticking time bomb hidden somewhere on the ship, and it was only a matter of time until it blew. He allowed himself to sleep, but only for a few hours at a time, and when he was awake he was on constant patrol. The previous longest record for going without a major incident was about three days, and it was now encroaching on a week. He wasn’t counting the detour they’d had to make to avoid some random authorities patrolling the system as a major incident, just a minor setback, so they were still due for something. 

When it hit a week since their last incident, he was almost convinced that he could relax, that he could let his guard down and accept that there was nothing waiting just around the bend for him. Almost. Barely a second after that thought crossed his mind, he heard footsteps quickly approaching from behind him.

“Hey, Trevor-boy!” Gavin called out for him, making him spin on his heels. “So, got a bit of a problem for you.” It was weird seeing someone relieved to learn there was a problem, but Trevor certainly looked that way. “There’s a lot of uh… Banging, coming from the storage deck.”

“Have you gone down there to check it out?” He asked, already knowing the answer before he even asked. 

“Absolutely not! Are you insane? Michael won’t go either, before you ask, you’re gonna have to go down there and look,” he informed him, and Trevor pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hey, don’t give me that! We don’t know what Alfredo brought on board, and I’m not trying to get eaten.”

“He promised me it wouldn’t kill us in our sleep.”

“That doesn’t mean it won’t kill us when we’re awake, though.”

Trevor sucked in a breath, holding it for a moment as he thought his next words over carefully. “Lindsay?” He called, his attention no longer on Gavin as he began to walk

The speaker system chimed to life, and Lindsay greeted the two of them cheerfully. “Yes, commander?”

“Where’s Alfredo?” 

There was a beat of silence as they checked all of their ocular systems. “He’s in the bridge, why?”

“Have him meet me down by the storage bay, would you? And have Michael bring down a few weapons, I don’t know what we’re dealing with. Can you tell if anything’s started moving down there?”

“There is a lot of movement down there, but I think whatever it is, it’s still in the crates.” The comms system buzzed as they went quiet, searching the cargo bay to make sure they weren’t sending their crew down into certain death. “Yeah, no, it’s definitely still contained.” There was a beat of silence before they whispered, “for now.”

That brought some relief, at least. Still, he didn’t want to go in there with nothing, just in case. At least they managed to hit a new record. He’d have to mark it on his calendar when he got back up to his quarters. 

He let Gavin get back to work somewhere along the way down to the bottom of the ship, waiting outside the door to the hold and tapping his foot as he waited for Alfredo and Michael to join him. As he opened his mouth to ask Lindsay to let them know he was waiting, he heard the telltale sound of yelling that signalled Michael’s approach. Alfredo was much quieter, but he had no doubt that he was in tow.

Still, he was impatient. Trevor always was when it came to the safety of his crew. If there was anything that had the potential to harm them, he wanted it dealt with as quickly and efficiently as possible. There was no room for wasting time. He already had his hand out as Michael rounded the corner, and he didn’t lower it until he felt the weight of a gun settled in it. 

“Gave you your usual rifle, boss. Figured you’d want something reliable,” he explained, watching as Trevor inspected the rifle to make sure it was up to his standards. “Gave Fredo the harpoon gun, figured it might be handy and he said he’s used one of those before. Plus pistols for the both of you. Try not to miss your shots, though. Gavin’ll be pissed if he has to do a hull repair.” 

“Thank you, Michael. We’ll take it from here, but…” He trailed off, noticing that Michael himself was also armed with a variety of weapons. “Standby out here, just in case. Lindsay’ll let you know if we run into trouble.” They nodded at each other in understanding, the doors to the cargo bay sliding open in front of them. “Let’s go.”

Alfredo could only give a tiny nod himself, following behind the commander as they stepped into the hold. It was bright, the lights at full blast to make sure there weren’t any shadows to hide in. But that wasn’t enough to stop him from being nervous. His hands didn’t shake, but he was chewing on his bottom lip so much that it was starting to bleed, and every little noise made him raise the harpoon gun and aim. 

“You wanna tell me what’s in those crates?” Trevor asked as they worked their way towards the center of the hold, checking every nook and cranny as Lindsay kept them updated on any movement around them that was out of the ordinary. “I was fine with not knowing before, but-“ He was cut off by the sound of wood scraping against metal, dull thuds as whatever was inside of them grew restless. “But because of things like that, I can’t let things slide anymore.”

The other man hesitated, continuing to bite at his lip, but Trevor’s gaze was piercing and it made his blood run cold against his tongue. Nothing got past the commander, even the smallest of lies. “Plants. It’s plants.”

“Plants don’t move like that,” Trevor pointed out, and Alfredo couldn’t exactly refute his claim. “Now, what the hell is actually in these crates?”

“I’m being serious. It’s plants.” A beat of silence, more piercing stares, before he continued. “Mutant plants that were definitely overfed a ton of fertilizer and who only knows what else, but… Yeah. Plants.”

“Mutant… Plants?” The words fell slowly off of Trevor’s tongue, processing what they meant at the same time they left his mouth. “Just how mutant, exactly?”

“Depends. Some of ‘em are still pretty plant-like, but… Others are getting pretty close to Audrey II territory.” 

“As much as I appreciate the comparison, I’d appreciate a little more seriousness even more.” Alfredo murmured an apology, but Trevor’s silence made it clear that the time for talking was over. 

After a few more paces they reached the crates, specially marked to make it stand out from all of the other similar crates, but only to the trained eye. Sure enough, there was some banging coming from inside the crate, as well as some angry hissing, but it wasn’t exactly loud enough to be heard from the engineering deck, especially not over the roar of the engines either. If Gavin was able to hear it, it had to be something much bigger, much louder. 

They began to inspect the crates one by one, making sure each one was intact and tightening whatever screws had started to get knocked loose by the thrashing within. All the noise and movement had Trevor on edge, his heart racing and normally steady hands shaking each time he had to touch one of the boxes. 

“That’s all of them. Nine crates, all secure.”

Alfredo frowned, eyebrows furrowed together as his eyes flicked from crate to crate. “There should be ten here.” They both counted, and re-counted, and counted one last time for good measure. Sure enough, there were only nine crates with no sign of a tenth. 

“Lindsay, double-check the manifest for me?” They did, which only confirmed that there was a crate missing. Trevor’s face mirrored the pilot’s then, concern etched deep into their features. “Alfredo? Any explanations?” 

“Alright, this isn’t my fault.”

“I’m not saying it is, but I would still like an explanation. Or at least some way to make sense of… This.”

Alfredo shifted, uncomfortable under Trevor’s gaze. “Well… Best guess is that… Either Geoff miscounted or left one off the ship, or-“

“-Which is pretty likely-“

“-Or one of the plants escaped. Which is also pretty likely. Maybe even more likely.”

“Well. Shit.” They both hoisted up their weapons simultaneously, knowing that they couldn’t afford to get caught off guard by anything. “Lindsay, lock down the cargo bay! Nothing gets in or out of here, not even the two of us. If anything starts moving other than us or those crates, you tell us immediately, got it?”

“Sure thing, commander. There’s just… One teensy-tiny problem.”

Trevor groaned loudly, looking up at the speaker. “And that is what, exactly?”

“Well, you see… There’s so much movement in those crates that… I kinda can’t see any movement anywhere else in the ship, and especially not in the cargo bay. It throws my whole system off, I can’t see anything.”

He whirled around to look at Alfredo upon hearing that, rifle still raised, and for a second he thought that the commander was going to shoot him right where he stood. The thought crossed Trevor’s mind, he wasn’t going to lie about that, but he decided that it would be unwise. He needed someone to watch his back, even if that someone was the one who got him into this mess. Turning back around and marching on, he let out a very slow, very shaky breath as he tried to control his anger. 

“Alfredo?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You and I are going to stay in here and keep watch on the rest of these crates to make sure no more of these…” He trailed off, glaring back at the crates before his gaze was back on Alfredo. “Things escape before we reach our destination. Michael and Jack are going to be patrolling the rest of the ship to keep everyone else safe. I don’t know what the hell these things are capable of, and I’m assuming you don’t either, so we need to be on high alert. Got it?” 

Alfredo nodded quickly. “Yes sir.”

“Good. Now… Lindsay, how far away are we?”

“We’re about a day out. I’ll try and push the engines so we can get there faster but-”

“Don’t bother, I’d rather not blow the ship. Alfredo and I are just going to have to find some way to keep ourselves occupied.” 

A day stuck in the cargo hold with the commander, who was very armed and very angry, really wasn’t ideal for Alfredo, but he acknowledged that there were worse punishments he could be given. He was just glad that he’d already opted to put his cut towards the ship, because there was no way he’d be given all of it after this. 

----------------------------------------------------

“Got any sevens?”

“No, go fish. Got any threes?”

“Nope, go fishin’! Got any… Got any aces?”

There was a long moment of silence, and then: “This would be easier with cards. I don’t remember what I have or don’t have anymore.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

It had been several hours since the start of the cargo bay lockdown, and they were already running out of things to do. They’d searched the hold over and over until they found scrapes in the floor that lead to a splintered crate at the far end, but nothing that told them where the plant monster had run off to. Then, they reinforced all the remaining crates, doing what they could to make sure nothing else would try to escape and end up succeeding in their attempt. After that, they’d sort of run out of things to do to keep busy. “Imaginary Go Fish” was only entertaining the first time (though Trevor would disagree), and Lindsay had shut off all their sensors in the hold in an attempt to get everything else back in working order so they could help Michael and Jack. Not only were they cut off from the rest of the crew, but they were alone for the next twenty or so hours. 

“At least we’re down here with the supplies so we don’t starve,” Alfredo muttered, trying to find any possible brightside to the situation. 

Trevor hummed in agreement, standing up and shaking out his arms. “Yeah, at least we won’t starve,” he agreed, the slightest hint of mockery in his tone. He had yet to outright voice his displeasure, but he was sure Alfredo could put the pieces together. After stretching, he checked his watch. “Time for another walk around. You stay put.” 

Slumping against a crate, Alfredo nodded, making sure he had his own weapon in hand as Trevor readied his own and walked off. They did this every half hour or so. Trevor made him do the first few, but he must’ve gotten tired of sitting around because it was the first time he’d offered to go. 

His footsteps echoed off the thick metal walls of the hold, and Alfredo listened intently to them. The only other sounds were the dull thuds of the contained plant monsters and the usual creaks and groans of the Morrigan itself, but those were easy to tune out once they droned on long enough. When the footsteps stopped, it was like the hold went completely silent. 

He was immediately on edge, standing up quickly and hoisting the harpoon gun up as he went. “Trevor?” he called, taking a few hesitant steps forward. When there wasn’t an immediate response, he took a few more, heading towards where he’d last heard the other’s footsteps come from. 

“I’m fine,” Trevor called back after a minute, “Just stay there, everything’s fine!”

“You don’t sound too sure,” was the response he got, and he just let out a huff. 

It was true, he wasn’t too sure, because in a corner Alfredo had surely overlooked on his previous patrols, the plant had taken over. Its thorny vines stretched across the floors and up the walls, writhing and squirming as it supported the weight of what looked like a giant flower bud but… Flowers weren’t supposed to have teeth. That was the one thing that had been consistent across the planets he’d been to. Plants didn’t have teeth. “I’m not,” he muttered to himself, wondering why the hell he’d agreed to take this job in the first place. You needed a pilot, he reminded himself as he took slow, careful steps back in an effort not to startle the thing. But I don’t think we needed one this badly.

“What’s going on? I’m coming over there.”

Trevor turned around slowly, carefully, just in time to see Alfredo running up. “No, don’t!” he shouted, putting a hand up to stop him, but something stopped him instead. 

A vine wrapped itself tight around his arm, the thorns digging in deep and latching on. It had been resting peacefully before, able to slumber without being disturbed by the occasional movement and noise from the two men, but Trevor’s sudden shouting had woken it up. And it was not pleased. 

He cried out in pain, instinctively trying to pull his arm free, but it only made the vine hold on even tighter. It reminded him of those finger traps Jeremy had brought on board one time: the more he pulled, the more it constricted his arm. But unlike those finger traps, it had no intentions of letting go once Trevor relaxed. 

Alfredo stood there in shock, eyes wide and frozen in place until the commander barked out an order. He didn’t even register the words, just that he needed to move, and he needed to move now. Gavin was going to kill him for the damage later, but there was no time to aim the harpoon gun properly before he was pulling the trigger. Though it missed the bud by a few feet, the harpoon did manage to sever a few of its tendrils. The plant monster let out an ear-piercing shriek, untangling itself from Trevor in order to start scaling the wall and worming its way into an air vent. The metal of the grate covering it bent and snapped from the force, and the ends of several vines hung out through the remaining slats. 

“Nice work,” Trevor managed through gritted teeth, trying to pretend like his arm wasn’t bleeding as badly as it was and didn’t hurt nearly as much as it did. Alfredo saw through the act in less than a second, retrieving the harpoon before dropping the gun and approaching Trevor. 

“That looks… Bad. I should’ve given you my jacket,” he muttered, pushing his sleeve up to get a better look at the damage. Bruises were already starting to form where the vine itself had been, and there were several grisly cuts from the thorns, all bleeding pretty badly. “Fuck… Lindsay! We need Michael down here, now!”

Trevor pushed Alfredo’s hands off him before sinking to his knees and gripping his arm, trying to cover at least one of the cuts in an effort to stop the flow of blood. Whatever wasn’t soaked up by his shirt dripped down to the floor, creating a pretty sizable puddle beneath him that began to soak into the knees of his pants as well. “They can’t hear you… They shut down all their sensors for this room, remember?” There were a lot of flaws in their plan, he saw that now. But at least he knew that the beast was for sure in the cargo bay, not that there was anything that could be done about that right then. “There’s… There may be some emergency supplies by the door, Michael makes sure there’s some in every room.” Accidents happened everywhere, and the lad hated having to run all the way back to the medbay for a bandage every time someone got hurt. 

Once Alfredo had retrieved the medkit, he helped Trevor to his feet and guided him back to their makeshift campsite. The further they were from that vent, the better off they were, though the plant monster would easily be able to follow the trail of blood Trevor left behind right to them. They sat down together there, Trevor still clutching his arm as he leaned back against the crates with a soft groan. He was feeling a bit woozy, 

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna bandage this up for now, hopefully that stops the bleeding, or at least slows it,” Alfredo murmured, popping the kit open and breathing out an audible sigh of relief when he saw that it was fully stocked. “Thank the stars,” he breathed, almost smiling as he grabbed a roll of gauze and began to wrap up Trevor’s arm. He was silent as he worked, faltering when the other spoke up. 

“Can we please talk?” he asked softly, eyes meeting Alfredo’s when he looked up. “I’d really like something else to focus on other than the pain.” 

“I thought you were mad at me?”

“I was… I am, but… I’d still rather talk than sit in silence.”

“Oh.” He continued to wrap his arm, securing it with some tape once he was done. “What would you like to talk about?”

“Anything. Something. I really don’t care.” He held his arm to his chest, cradling it in an effort to soothe the pain. 

“Well, how’d you become in charge of your own ship?” Alfredo asked, settling in beside him and leaning against the crate as he began to rummage through the medkit. 

Trevor chuckled quietly, turning his head to look over at the other. “Now that is a very long story, but… I guess we’ve got the time.” He checked his watch, taking a deep breath. “I worked on a lot of ships that treated their crews like shit. Treated their ships like shit too, honestly. I bailed on one before my contract was up once I had enough credits saved up, hid at one of the starports until they stopped searching for me, and then… I bought a ship of my own. It was small at first, real small. Couldn’t do much with it, couldn’t really go anywhere with it either, but I managed to swing a few small jobs.” He stared off into the distance as he spoke, looking out the small port windows at the stars outside the ship. It had been a while since he’d thought about any of this, even longer since he’d talked about it, but there was a fond smile as he did. “I don’t miss any of the bullshit at the start.”

Alfredo listened intently, a small stack of things from the kit forming in front of him. More gauze, disinfectant, rags, a suture and thread. He wasn’t really thrilled about the prospect of stitching up Trevor, but those wounds were so deep that something more needed to be done. “I don’t think anyone here misses the bullshit at the start. I sure had my fair share.” 

“How did you get started, then?”

“I used to be a pilot back on Earth. I was good at my job, really good, so they bumped me up to piloting shuttles between the colonies. After a while, I guess I got sick of seeing the same places over and over again,” he explained, letting out a soft ‘a ha!’ as he pulled a bottle of painkillers from the bottom of the kit. “Lotta ships need good pilots, and they paid better than the other gig, so I jumped ship, so to speak.” Shaking out a few pills, he passed them to Trevor who swallowed them down dry with a grimace. Anything to help the pain. “Never really wanted to own my ship, seemed like too much work, but… I was cool with piloting them. I get paid to see space, how cool is that?”

“It is a lot of work,” he agreed, still trying to get the pills down. “Sometimes, it’s too much work. But at the end of the day, it’s all worth it.” 

Alfredo was quiet for a few long moments, the silence hanging heavy between them. “Will this be worth it?” 

“Yes.” Trevor didn’t need to think about his answer as much as Alfredo had needed to think about his question. “Absolutely. You seem surprised.”

“But you got hurt. That thing could have killed you!”

“But it’s still in the cargo bay, and it didn’t hurt anyone in my crew. Better me than anyone else.” His crew was his family, and if he had to get hurt to keep them safe, so be it. It was a small price he was willing to pay. 

Alfredo scoffed and shook his head. “I don’t get you.”

“What?”

“No commander gives this much of a shit about their crew.” No captain gave their crew an equal cut, they always took more for themselves. No captain would sacrifice themself for their crew, they always forced their crew to do the sacrificing for them. No captain would adopt a broken AI like one would a stray cat. It just didn’t happen. “Not a single one. I’ve been trying to figure out your game from the start, and I just… I can’t.” The laughing only added to his confusion. 

“I know. No other commander does, but I do. And you’re gonna have to get used to it, Alfredo. All those assholes on the other side of the door are my family, and I’d sooner die for them than let anything bad happen to them,” he stated firmly, making sure the other was looking at him and meeting his eyes as he spoke. “There’s no game, no ulterior motive. You’re part of that family now too, so you’re just gonna have to learn to live with it.”

It had been a long time since Alfredo had been a part of any family, since anyone had accepted him so completely so quickly. While he didn’t fully trust Trevor just yet, he trusted him more than he had a few minutes ago. “Alright. I’ll learn to live with it.”

----------------------------------------------------

Alfredo was silent as he worked to stitch up Trevor’s arm, hands steady as he did so. He’d spent some time cleaning up the now dried blood, disinfecting the wounds and getting a better look at them. Some of the cuts were only surface wounds, already scabbed over and barely noticeable, but others were pretty gruesome. He didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to freak Trevor out, but he was pretty sure that he could see bone in a few of them. “Michael’s gonna have to redo these, but they’ll hold for now,” he murmured, tying off the last one and bandaging him up again before things got too bloody again. 

“How bad am I, doc? Am I gonna make it?” Trevor asked, really glad that he’d taken some more painkillers because he couldn’t imagine all of those stitches would feel great in a few minutes. 

“Yeah,” Alfredo said with a soft smile, taping down the end of the gauze. “You’ll make it.” I hope. 

----------------------------------------------------

As hour six rolled around, the comms hissed with static and a few musical beeps, surprising Alfredo and making him lift his head. He and Trevor had decided that sleeping was a pretty good way to kill time, so the commander had ended up fast asleep and slumped with his head on Alfredo’s shoulder. The other man hadn’t been so lucky, wide awake and checking every few minutes to make sure that he hadn’t gone and died on him. 

“Lindsay?” he asked softly, hoping they’d see the situation and match his tone. 

“Alfredo! What the hell happened?” They could see everything the second their cameras were back online: The broken vent grate, the vines coming out of the grate, the severed tendrils on the floor, the puddle and trail of brown dried blood leading to Alfredo and a very injured Trevor. “Is he… He’s not dead, is he?”

“No, he’s alive. We found the plant, and it… It got him good,” he explained, tipping his head forward to make sure Trevor was still asleep. “I patched him up, but… He’s gonna need a lot more than some stitches.”

“I’ll get Michael to come down-”

“No,” he stated, and Lindsay let out a soft scoff of indignation. “No one else comes down here. If you lift the lockdown, that thing’ll get free run of the station through the vents. We’ll be fine… We’ve got food and water, this kit’s got enough supplies to last us, and… I think as long as we leave it alone, it’ll leave us alone.” 

Lindsay hummed as they scanned the room. The plants in the crates had calmed down a little bit, and as far as they could tell the one in the vents was perfectly still, only shifting every now and then but not making any grand movements. “What should we do, then?”

“Make sure everyone else evacuates the ship the second we touch down and send Michael down here with a flamethrower. We’ll take a bit of a hit to our pay because we’ll be short a crate, but I don’t care. I want that thing dead.” 

“I’m sure the commander feels the same way… Are you sure he’s gonna be okay?” They asked, dimming the lights a little. If it was dark, the plants would probably stay calmer. It would make sleeping a little easier for the pair as well. 

Alfredo bit his lip, shrugging a shoulder before shaking his head. “No, but I’m trying to be optimistic.” He leaned his head back against the crate and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief he’d been holding for far too long. With Lindsay back, it meant he wasn’t alone. There was a buffer between him and the commander, someone to help fill the silence. 

They were quiet for a few minutes as they relayed information to the rest of the crew, before the comms crackled in the hold once more. “You should try and sleep too, ‘Fredo. Now that we know where it is, I can keep an eye on it.” 

“No, I gotta make sure he’s still breathing.”

“I can keep an eye on him too. The crates are quiet, so all my sensors are in working order. His heart rate is normal, if a bit weak, but he’s breathing fine. You should rest.”

He didn’t really have the energy to argue with them further, so he relented. “Wake us in a few hours. I’m gonna have to change his bandages and clean those wounds. Michael’ll kill me if I let those get infected.”

“Yes, he will.”

----------------------------------------------------

As hour twelve rolled around, Lindsay brightened the lights slowly and chimed softly to wake the pilot and the commander. They hoped that the plants wouldn’t be disturbed as well, but considering how long it took the pair to wake up, they weren’t really too concerned. 

“Trevor,” Alfredo said softly, jostling him gently with his shoulder. His ass and his neck ached from sleeping on the hard metal floor in such an awkward position, and he was sure that the other man would need another round of painkillers too. “Trevor, c’mon man. Wake up.” 

He did so with great reluctance, groaning softly as he registered several different aches and pains. “Was this really necessary?”

“Yeah, it was. Gotta change your bandages so Michael won’t have to cut off your arm,” he said, encouraging him to sit up before reaching for the supplies in front of him. “Or my head.”

Trevor laughed softly, starting to stretch his arms out over his head before he stopped short, wincing and clutching his bandaged arm to his chest. “Fuck… I thought that was a dream,” he muttered, eyes squeezed shut. 

“I wish it was,” Alfredo sighed, “But while you were sleeping, we got Lindsay back. So that’s good, at least. Told them everything. They wanted to send Michael down here, but I told them not to.”

“And why the hell did you do that?” Trevor winced as Alfredo started to unwrap the gauze. Despite how careful he was being, it still pulled at the cuts uncomfortably. 

“Because,” he started, murmuring an apology when he saw him wince and trying to go slower. “If the lockdown gets lifted, that thing can go through the vents and go anywhere it wants, which is bad.”

Trevor hummed in agreement, but it was reluctant. He didn’t like knowing Alfredo had been giving orders while he’d been asleep, even if they were the same ones he would’ve given. “What’d you tell them to do, then?”

“Keep the lockdown going, evacuate everyone once we land, and then send Michael down here. With a flamethrower.”

“Good thinking.”

“Why, thank you.” 

They fell into a comfortable silence then, Alfredo removing the last of the gauze and cleaning up his arm. The bleeding had stopped, thankfully, so now it was just a focus on preventing infection, which he hoped would be easy enough. It would be even easier once they got back on solid ground, when Michael could actually get in here and kill the thing. Bullets probably wouldn’t do the trick, they’d just piss Gavin off by causing damage to the ship, but fire was pretty damn effective in every circumstance. 

“Lindsay?” Trevor called softly, feeling instantly comforted when he heard their voice over the speakers. “Where is the thing? Still in the vent?”

“Yep. Still in the vent. It’s almost cute like this, even if it did try to eat you.”

“It didn’t… It didn’t try to eat me.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, commander. Oh, and Matt would like me to tell you that he thinks it’s hilarious you got your ass kicked by a plant.”

Trevor huffed, rolling his eyes and sinking back against the crates. Even when he was isolated from his crew, they still found a way to pester him. 

Beside him, Alfredo shrugged off his jacket, flipping it inside out so the soft lining was visible before balling it up. “You should get some more rest,” he said as he held it out to Trevor. “It’s not much, but it’ll be better for your neck than the crate.”

He hesitated a moment before taking it, sinking right down to the floor to lay flat since he had a pillow now. “It’s weird seeing you without your jacket on.” Alfredo had been wearing it from the moment he’d met him until now, he hadn’t seen him with it off once. 

“He even wears it to bed,” Lindsay piped up, laughing as Alfredo’s face went as red as the leather. 

“I do not!” He shouted defensively, glaring up at the ceiling.  “It’s just part of my style, that’s all.” 

“Relax,” Trevor chuckled, reaching out blindly to pat Alfredo’s arm. He missed and hit leg instead, but neither of them said anything. “I wasn’t making fun of you. It’s a good style, I like it.” He turned his head, looking up at Alfredo with a small smile. 

The other couldn’t help but smile back, getting comfortable against the box behind him. He didn’t know why that compliment made him feel so warm, but he was lucky that his face was already red from Lindsay’s teasing so it didn’t give him away. “Thanks, Trev.”

“Anytime, Fredo.” 

----------------------------------------------------

The hours rolled by easily, the pair spending most of them asleep because there wasn’t much else to do. They woke up a few times so Alfredo could change the bandages, munching on some rations at one point since the last meal they’d had was breakfast that morning. Chatting with Lindsay was another good way to pass the time, too. They were able to keep the crew updated on the situation down in the hold, and keep the commander updated on things going on on the other side of the door. There wasn’t much going on, just a lot of worry, but Trevor still didn’t want to be out of the loop. 

Once they’d slept as much as they could and talked to Lindsay until there was nothing more to talk about, they decided to do the only thing they could to pass the final few hours before the ship landed: Talk to each other. 

“You said you used to work on Earth. What was that like?” Trevor asked, looking down at Alfredo. They swapped who got to use the jacket-pillow every couple of hours, and since they weren’t going to be sleeping anymore Trevor had decided to surrender it back to its original owner (even though it was still technically his turn for another thirty minutes). 

“You’ve never been?” he asked, sticking an arm beneath his head to prop himself up as he looked back at the commander, who shook his head. “I mean, it was fine? I guess? Kinda boring compared to space. The sky was always the same, and there were way too many people. Have you seriously never been to Earth?”

“No, I grew up out in the Terra 2 colony. Then I got sucked up into a spacer crew, and that was it. Never saw any reason to go once I got the Morrigan, and now without a warp drive we’re too far out.”

“I’m shocked a job hasn’t taken you there, people there are always looking for stuff smuggled in from the far reaches,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. Customs was a bitch to get by, but he still had a few buddies down there who’d be willing to let them through. He was sure of it. “Once we get that drive, we’ll pick up a few jobs that’ll take us there.”

“Whatever you say, man. But you didn’t exactly make it sound worth the hype.”

“Oh, it’s absolutely not, but still. I can’t believe you’ve never been!” 

Talking to Trevor was a lot easier than it had been before. He wasn’t as scared of him, and a lot of the distrust had faded. The feeling was mutual, as well. The commander wasn’t angry at Alfredo anymore, because ultimately, none of this was his fault. He was the one who hadn’t checked in on the cargo sooner, he was the one who’d startled the monster, all of this fell on his shoulders because it was his ship and he was responsible for everything that happened on it.

“I’m sorry,” Trevor said out of nowhere, almost startling Alfredo with the suddenness of it. “I’m sorry I blamed all this on you.”

“It’s fine.” He hadn’t been expecting an apology from the commander. Maybe a month or two on bathroom cleaning duty, sure, but not an apology. “We both had our fuckups in this mess.”

“We did, but it’s unfair to blame the whole thing on you. Most of it, sure?” Alfredo cut him a look, and he just laughed. “Kidding. I’m kidding! Don’t give me that. It’s really more like… Fifty/fifty.”

“Sixty/forty. You’re the sixty.”

“Yeah, okay. Fair enough.” 

They grinned at each other, oblivious to the way the ship began to creak and groan around them as Lindsay initiated the landing sequence. The plants in the crates kicked up again, but the one in the vents was still. 

“You know what? You’re alright, Fredo. Gavin was right about you.” 

Alfredo’s face matched his jacket all over again, and he had to fight hard to get the words out despite how flustered he was. Trevor hadn’t called him by any sort of nickname until now, it made him feel good to know that the commander was finally warming up to him. “What… What did he say about me, exactly?”

“That you were the best of the best. And he was right. Normally he’s not right about these things, but… He nailed it with you.”

“You sure you’re not still woozy from blood loss?” Alfredo asked, arching an eyebrow as he sat up, meeting Trevor’s eyes. “Because I know we just did that whole heartfelt apology thing, but… I definitely almost got you killed.”

He shook his head fervently. “No, you didn’t. You saved my life.” 

“Well, I wasn’t going to let you die.” 

“And I owe you big time for that.”

The ship jostled as it landed on uneven earth, and Alfredo grabbed onto Trevor quickly to prevent him from sliding around with the crates around them. Even as things settled, he didn’t let go, hearing something hiss in annoyance from the far end of the cargo hold. 

“Lindsay… Please tell us Michael’s on his way,” Trevor said, sinking back into the pilot in an effort to hide as he scrambled to grab the harpoon gun. 

“He’s outside the door, we’re just waiting for everyone to be off the ship so I can lift the lockdown. I suggest staying out of his way… He’s been wanting to use that thing for the last eighteen hours, and I don’t think anything’s gonna get in his way.”

“If he dies, Alfredo’s the new medical officer.”

“Noted.”

Using a flamethrower while they were in flight was unwise because of the oxygen rich environment, but back on terra firma it was the perfect weapon for dealing with unruly plant monsters. Michael’s cackles of delight echoed off the walls, mixing with the roar of the weapon and the shrieks of the plant as it burned. The noises kicked off another escape attempt in the other crates, but the reinforcements they’d made held firm. Only a few crates of supplies got caught up in the crossfire, and Michael was relatively unharmed aside from the ash staining his lab coat. 

Alfredo let the harpoon drop from his hands once he realized he wouldn’t be needing it, instead helping Trevor to his feet and keeping him steady as they made their way to the bay doors. “Michael,” he said, watching as the man kept scorching the charred remains. “Michael!” He stopped firing quickly, whirling around with wide eyes. “Stop dicking around, Trevor needs help.” 

“A thank you would’ve been nice,” Michael muttered as he dropped the weapon, knowing he’d need his hands free to help Trevor. 

“Thank you, Michael. Now help him, please?”

“Yeah, yeah. Lindsay told me that you were trying to steal my job, I just hope you didn’t make things worse,” he said as he swapped places with Alfredo, supporting Trevor’s weight to make sure he wouldn’t fall. “Alright, Trevor-boy, let’s get you to the infirmary.” He started to lead him out of the cargo hold, and Alfredo watched them go for a second before turning to start cleaning the mess they’d left behind up. 

Trevor stopped after a few paces, glancing over his shoulder. “You’re not coming?” he asked, the smallest hint of a frown etched into his features. 

“Uh.” Alfredo blinked, not sure how to answer. “No?”

“Yes, you are. C’mon.”

“Why?”

“I need someone there for moral support. Michael’s not as gentle as you are and I need someone’s hand to hold while he patches me up.” Trevor cracked a grin despite the fact that he wasn’t telling a joke, and Alfredo mirrored the expression after a moment to process exactly what he’d said. “Come on, I don’t have all day,” he insisted, holding out his hand towards him as Michael began to pull him along. 

Alfredo jogged to catch up to them, abandoning the task at hand in favor of taking Trevor’s hand. He was happy to have escaped the cargo bay alive, and even happier to know that he was back in the commander’s good graces. Their relationship was different, stronger and a lot friendlier than it had been now that they were no longer wary of each other. Trevor couldn’t think of a single member of the crew that he would’ve rather gone through that ordeal with, either. 

“Thanks for not letting the boss die, Fredo,” Michael said, cutting into the silence once they reached the infirmary. 

“Yeah, thanks for not letting me die, Fredo,” Trevor agreed, smiling kindly at him and giving his hand a squeeze. 

It was one evening where Geoff was out on the porch without Jack, staring out into the horizon and waiting for her to return. The sun was starting to sink lower in the sky, and she never missed a sunset. Worry began to grip his chest, until he heard the roar of an engine and saw a small silhouette in the distance rapidly growing bigger, and louder. It wasn't the roar of the engine of the car she usually drove, but it was the silhouette of his partner. He could recognize her anywhere. The sun was at Jack's back as she roared into the driveway, the early evening sun illuminating her from behind to give her an angel-like glow, the beams shining through her hair to make it burn a fiery red. That was Jack. There was a new Kawasaki beneath her, bright yellow and black and not yet dirtied by the dirt kicked up from the road. 

Geoff stood slowly, a hand shielding his eyes so that he could hope to see the other and what he'd ridden home on. "What the hell is that? When did you get this?!" he questioned, the tone not as angry as Jack had been expecting it to be. If anything, he almost sounded excited. Though she’d been saving for one for quite some time, it still almost felt like an impulse purchase that she shouldn’t have made. But she had no regrets just yet, especially not after hearing the glee in Geoff’s voice when he asked her about it.

"What does it look like it is, dumbass? It’s a motorcycle," Jack responded with a grin, nodding for Geoff to get on behind her. She really wanted to take advantage of the clear sky and bright stars that were on display that night now that she had something that could navigate the rough terrain. Sitting on their front porch couldn't ever give the same feeling as actually being out in the desert underneath it all, far away from any light source.

Geoff let out a relenting sigh as he hopped on the back of the bike, arms wrapped tight around Jack's middle and cheek pressed between her shoulder blades. Unable to help himself, he took a deep breath, inhaling as deeply as he possibly could. The fabric of her shirt was soft beneath his skin and still smelled faintly like detergent, and the smell of her hair combined with that to make something that smelled so inherently Jack that he couldn’t help but smile. It was sweet and delicious, like the warm desert air that surrounded them. "Alright then, smartass. Let's see what this baby can do then."

"Oh, this baby can do a lot, Geoff. Nine hundred cc’s of raw power. It doesn't get much better than that." With that said, Jack turned the bike around in the driveway, kicking up a cloud of dust. She pointed the headlamp toward the horizon and gave only a single warning to hold on before they were off, flying fast away from their home and into the sunset.

While the desert was usually huge and daunting, with their drives into work feeling endless and lonely, but right then it didn't feel like it could ever be big enough. The raw, whining power of the bike and the expert navigator at the handles made it seem so small. Their car could never navigate the dirt like this, it was too big and clunky and slow. They rode for what seemed like hours, and it was dark when Jack finally stopped the bike, and when she did they ended up being so far from their home that it wasn't even a speck on the horizon. The porchlights were out of sight, if they’d even bothered to turn on when it got dark. Geoff didn't drop his arms from the other's waist right away, though. Instead, he lifted his hand and pressed gentle kisses to the back of Jack's neck, smirking against her skin as she leaned back against him with a soft hum. She reached a hand back to run her fingers through Geoff’s hair affectionately, pulling him ever closer. 

"You know..." He trailed off, a kiss punctuating the statement. "I'm not sure why you bought this, but I'm so glad you did.” She only laughed, pulling herself free from Geoff's arms to get off the bike. The older man had no choice but to follow, grabbing onto Jack's hand and pulling her in for a proper kiss now that they were standing. The reason why she’d bought it was purely that she’d wanted to. And now she definitely didn’t have any regrets.  

The night was clearer than any other, but the stars weren't the focus of their eyes as they sat down together on the dirt, Jack's hand held gently in Geoff's. They shared kisses and talked, just like they would if they were still on the porch, only now they were laid beneath the endless summer sky. It had a way of bringing out an honesty between them that didn’t show up on the porch, because it was just the two of them out there, and it felt like the rest of the world didn't exist. They were the one thing in the galaxy God didn't have his eyes on, and the only thought that could cross Geoff's mind was how could his life possibly get any better? 

If only he knew.

Just a few short months later, the house would be traded for a small one bedroom apartment in Los Santos, most of their belongings and the Kawasaki left to collect dust in a storage unit while they found their footing. But jobs fall through, the honest ones always do in Los Santos, and they ended up like everyone else. But as they found their footing and found their crew, they had one advantage over the other crews that littered the city: A love that ran so deep it was bigger than the west Texas sky. 

The climb down the ravine was always the worst. The uneven walls made it next to impossible to climb down with ease, and the torches could only light up so much. It was their only landmark in an unknown world, so they kept their base close to it no matter how often they moved it, and she really wished she could reuse some of those old paths they'd carved out. At least once the ladders and torches were placed on the way down this time, they could be used to go back up again. 

Another bad thing was that she could no longer hear Gavin's whiny yelling, and Fiona was going to keep her fingers crossed that that meant he was hunkered down and hiding from monsters. The ravine was overrun with them, the constant darkness even in the daytime was the perfect environment for them to appear en masse, but she was prepared with the very best armor and swords. No doubt Gavin just had a wooden sword, if he even had one at all. 

"Hey, asshole! Where are you?!" she shouted, setting down torches as she began to wander the length of the ravine. "I know you're down here!"

There were some haphazardly placed blocks holding back a zombie hoard, the group turning around to make a slow charge towards Fiona as she placed a torch and illuminated them. She jumped and shouted in surprise, but they were no match for her. The fact that they were trying to go further into the ravine told her she was on the right path, and at least she'd be able to enchant a few things for the group with all the mobs she had to kill. 

Gavin could hear Fiona yelling for him from somewhere, but he was a bit too disoriented to know exactly where. A Creeper had gotten him good, then an Enderman had pulled out a block that flooded the area and knocked out all his torches. He was sitting, curled in on himself and trying to tend to his wounds in the dark.

The next time Fiona yelled, he shouted back as loud as he could, "Help!" which was all she needed to be able to find him, the next torch she placed on the wall lighting up the man. He was huddled up against the wall now, clutching his sword against his chest in case it was a foe rather than a friend, but before Fiona could even tell him to get up he was launching himself at her. The sword clattered against the stone as he dropped it in favor of wrapping her arms tightly around her. "Fiona! Christ alive, I was starting to think that no one was going to come for me," he breathed, pulling back to look at her. "Get me out? Please?" 

She laughed, picking up Gavin's sword and hanging it back to him before drawing her own. "Sure thing... But I have to do one quick thing before we go."

"What's that?"