1

He was powerless, completely and utterly powerless, and it was the one goddamn time in his life he tried to actually reach out and help.

He could still see the pills in her hands, even as her still palms sat empty. He could still hear her soft hiccups and sobs, even if her choked breathing and gurgling had silenced ages ago. He wanted to cry, shout, scream! He couldn't even manage a wheeze. God what he wouldn't do to be able to fucking— just— fucking do anything!

He'd failed Anya, he'd failed them all… and yet, yet she had chosen right there to die. Next to him, to rest besides the pathetic remains of Captain Curly. He shivered when Jimmy crept back into the room to drag her body off. Lifeless. Cold. Dead.

He tried to speak, tried to move, and it hurt. He tried to do anything, and it hurt. He was powerless, and it hurt.

Curly could only watch as one by one the crew met a cruel fate. Daisuke, burned and bloody, the damn kid dragging himself out by sheer luck from the vent. He hadn't been able to look over that well, but he'd been able to hear the muffled cries and desperate words. And just— Swansea, the words had been distant but he knew what that damned axe had been used for.

Daisuke was just, just some stupid kid, just some silly kid that made the mistake of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Just some too sweet for his own good kid.

He'd heard the gunshots some time after that. And when Jimmy had carried him to his newest resting ground, all he could do was stare and wheeze at the sight of those bodies propped up like some demented version of a child's tea party.

To think, to think that fucking Jimmy— his friend— that he was capable of this, that he—

Curly couldn't even beg when that knife began to cut away into the remains of one leg. All he could do was retreat back into his mind. Stuck as his body surrounded him like a bloody tomb.

And with nothing left? He prayed. Oh, how he fucking prayed, with the desperation of a man with little else to lose he prayed to anything and anyone. He prayed to that damned dead pixel, to the stars beyond them, hell, even to that stupid fucking horse!

Please. Please let me have a chance. One more chance to fix this. To actually do something for once and not be some idle fool. Please, if there's any way to wake up from this— this nightmare— please… for fucksake… let me wake up.

Somehow. Somewhere. Something heard him.

Curly woke up. He woke up gasping for air, eyes widening as they snapped open.

One last chance to make things right.

He tore away from his blankets, the captain sitting up desperately. He almost immediately had to bend over to support himself, sucking in mouthfuls of air as he looked about wildly. He was— he wasn't… Curly clutched at his chest with a trembling hand, looking about the room sharply. It was… his quarters, he— he was back in his own, his own quarters! Not in that damned med bay or on that damned table and— and…

He glanced over his shaking hands, rotating them as he moved his fingers experimentally. They… they were really there, weren't they? He could, heh— he could feel them again! They were actually there and— and his— he swung his legs over the bed and shivered as his bare feet touched the floor.

He wiggled his toes and felt tears prick his eyes (eyes! Plural!)— his legs were there, both of them! He, he could feel more than, than just the pain. Curly would have marveled at himself all night if it weren't for the sudden realization that he was alone.

He— Anya had been— oh shit, where was Anya?! The captain stumbled out of bed like a drunkard, nearly having a wonderous meeting between the floor and his face. After a brief struggle, he managed to stand, breath hitching. He had to— he had…

Curly swallowed thickly, standing in place for a moment. He had to— he had to… what? What exactly did he do? What… he blinked slowly, one hand coming to clutch at his hair (god it'd been too long— or well, it had felt so long…) what was he thinking?

How the hell could he have gone back into the past, what was he thinking? That was— that'd be crazy! It, it was probably just some stress induced dream, heh, yeah, that had to be what this was, it—

You're being a coward again.

He sucked in a breath, he… he should just check in on her. E-Even if, it couldn't have been real, right? The crash… the betrayal… just. God. That couldn't have been real, Jimmy wouldn't and, and— he… wouldn't have done something like that to someone like Anya. Right?

Sure, Jimmy could be… could be a bit extreme in his flirting and all that but, but he wouldn't actually—

For some reason Curly couldn't bare to finish the thought. He… he'd go check on Anya anyways. Just to, just to clear his mind.

It had been just… just some stress-induced dream. That was all. That's all, r-right?

~

Curly stepped along the hallways with all the grace of a man who hadn't walked in months, body aching with rolling waves of phantom pain. He wasn't sure what exactly was causing the reaction, but he figured it might be some physiological reaction to the distress his dream had caused him. It hadn't been real it couldn't have been real just a dream just a dream just a fucking dream—

He came around the corner and glanced up just to freeze in place at what he saw. There, stood just shy of Anya's door with his hand resting as if just about to open the door was Jimmy. Curly inhaled sharply and could see the other man glance over, the sound carrying in the simulated-nighttime silence.

He had to fight every urge in his body not to flinch away, the blond swallowing thickly as he stared right on back at his… his friend. Jimmy slowly put his hand in a pocket before fixing the odd expression on his face into a casual half-grin.

Curly didn't return it. He walked over cautiously, voice thick with something he couldn't identify, "What are you doing?"

His fr— the other stared at him, raising his eyebrows as he took a few steps back from the door. "Whatcha talking about?" The blond noted how Jimmy didn't even attempt to lower his voice.

"That isn't your room, Jim." The sharpness bracing his words caught him by surprise, but it felt deserved. Why the hell had Jimmy been here? More importantly, why the hell had he been about to go into Anya's room, she had to be asleep by now and—

And… Curly felt a chill go down his spine. Captain… something, something happened. Surely, surely nothing was going to happen, right? Right!? If, if that had— then what about those fucking— it would mean that hadn't been just some dream anymore.

"I must've been mistaken then, you know how it is." Jimmy seemed so… unbothered. So casual. As though he hadn't just been about to enter a sleeping woman's quarters. "Though, I could ask what you're doing up, Captain."

The blond almost swallowed back his words, the temptation to brush off the issue and go back to sleep ever-so-present. But. But he— he just— please let me have another chance. Someone, something… it had given him that chance. Hadn't it? That hadn't been a dream. None of it was a dream.

"Jim," he spoke more harshly than he ever had to the brunet, "Answer the damned question. What were you really doing?"

He got a roll of the eyes, "Oh, fine. Caught me with my hand in the cookie jar? Didn't take you to be a prude, Captain."

It didn't sound like a title when Jimmy said it, it carried an audible sneer. Joking in a sense, if it weren't for the annoyance in the other man's stance. He… he didn't even seem bothered, hell, he acted almost as though this were more so an inconvenience than anything else.

"Go back to your quarters," he said when he found his words once more.

Jimmy crossed his arms, "Good one, look, I'll be quiet and it's not as if Anya doesn't want it—"

"That's enough." She'd tried to tell him, she'd tried to tell him so many times.

Something hungry crossed the other's face, smile a bit more of a snarl. "Oh? What, so you can have all that to yourself then, is that it? Have to have another thing over me or—"

Jimmy stumbled back hard and it took a moment for Curly to realize that had been because he had shoved the man back. His heart was practically beating right out of his chest. He should have listened sooner, God he should have listened to her.

The captain looked at his hands, they had begun to tremble. He looked back up and saw something darken in his co-pilot's eyes. Before he could speak up (to say what? What could he say!? What was he supposed to say?) hands gripped at his shirt collar and he was being shoved roughly against the wall.

The brunet leaned forward, "The hell's wrong with you?"

What was… what was wrong with him? After what Jimmy had just tried to fucking imply!? The blond wanted to laugh or maybe yell, but he couldn't get a damn thing out his now horrifyingly dry throat.

He swallowed, hands moving to clutch at Jimmy's to try and pull them off, but despite his lanky appearance, the other man was much stronger than he looked. Despite his struggling, Curly was just pressed against the wall with more force. The captain could do nothing but let it fucking happen, the fight leaving him in a fearful rush.

Is this how she'd felt? Is this why she had looked so tired for so long? So scared?

"Listen here, Curly," Jimmy growled, the brunet's breath hot against his ear, "I don't know what the fuck's gotten into you, but how about you go back to minding your own business? We're friends, afterall, why you trying to make me look like a bad guy here?"

This didn't feel like something friends did. Curly swallowed, "W-What the fuck are you doing?"

The man had the nerve to laugh, Jimmy's eyes trailing over his tense expression with something much too pleased. "Cmon, I'm just shaking some sense back into you, you've been so up your own ass lately. What, can't take the pressure?"

"I-I, that's—"

"Speak up."

"J-Jimmy, Jimmy just c-calm down—"

Curly cried out when the other's grip tightened just a bit, opening his mouth with a hitch in his breath. He didn't know what to do— he didn't— the nearby door opened.

The two men stiffened, Jimmy's eyes narrowing while Curly sagged somewhat in relief.

"H-Hello?" It was Anya, eyes nervously going from one man to the other before that gaze locked onto her captain's face. "Captain?"

The blond grimaced as he was suddenly released, Jimmy flashing a sharp grin, "Oh, did we wake you?"

She didn't even spare the brunet a glance, her eyes staring intensely into Curly's own. "Anya— I, ah," his shaking hands went to smooth down his shirt as he looked off to the side, "Apologizes f-for disturbing you, there—"

He stiffened as an arm was thrown around his shoulder, Jimmy's damned voice sugary sweet, "Oh cmon, Captain, lighten up! You were telling me all about how you just had to talk to Anya, well go on." The man leaned in towards his ear, "Fine, have your slice of cake I guess, there's always next time." Then he was released, trying hard not to stumble as he gazed sharply after Jimmy.

That bastard. He felt sick, not daring to turn away until the man's door closed with a startling quiet creak. Curly didn't like how easily he seemed to sneak about, it did little to comfort his racing thoughts.

"Captain—" He jumped, one hand coming to clutch at his chest as his breathing hitched, "—w-what was… what was that about?"

"I… I don't know," he said after a tense moment. "I… he was..."

Her face grew pale as she spoke up, "Was… was he at my door again?"

His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach, "Again?"

The smile she gave was an empty thing. It was answer enough.

"…Jesus Christ," he covered his mouth with a hand, "How long has this been going on for…?"

She didn't answer.

"Why… haven't you said anything?"

Her eyes trailed down to her hands, fingers interlocked as she gave a weak laugh. "Would you have really believed me…?"

Curly looked away, "…when did you wake up?"

"I could… I could hear you two arguing outside for a bit."

"Ah." He nodded shallowly, clearing his throat, "I don't suppose you'd be up for a cup of coffee, huh?"

Anya hummed softly, "I… don't think I'll be able to go back to sleep."

He could only offer a weak chuckle in turn. He didn't think he'd be able to either.

~

Anya was still giving him that look of hers, it was a startling sharp and knowing thing. He never realized how much that gaze of hers held until recently.

Though then again… he hadn't realized a lot of things looking back. How many things had gone unseen under his very nose? How many times had he overlooked the clear signs? How many times had he let Jimmy get away with things time and time again?

Comments that were passed off as jokes now vivid and sickening. Looks that were brushed off as nothing more than passing glances now carrying a new horrible implication. People that tried again and again to bring things to his attention, time and time again when he'd dismiss their concerns.

How long had this gone on? How many people had been hurt? How many had he'd let get hurt?

Curly took a long sip, eyes downcast. Anything to avoid that look. He knew he was being selfish to ignore it, he knew that, but. But just. This was a lot.

"Why… why were you awake, Captain?"

He didn't dare meet her eye. He almost didn't dare speak up. He let out a rather pathetic excuse for a chuckle, "I, it sounds stupid— I just had some… some feeling… told me to check on you." He rubbed at a shoulder, Curly was not about to tell her about his not-dream. The man didn't know where to begin even trying to deal with that can of worms right now. "Bad dream or something."

"You're still having trouble… trouble sleeping?" Ever the nurse, wasn't she? He never gave her enough credit.

"In a sense," he sighed.

"Do, do you want me to p-prescribe you something?"

He never wanted to see another goddamn pill in his fucking life, shaking his head with a bit more force than necessary. God, he could still fucking feel Jimmy's hands on him, he hadn't been able to do a damned thing. He should have listened to her from the very fucking start. He should have paid attention, he was an idiot. A blind fucking idiot!

"Curly…?"

"Yeah?"

"You, you won't tell anyone, w-will you?"

"What?" He glanced up at her, startled to see tears building in the corners of her eyes. "I— hey, hey, what's…"

"Y-You can't, he— I don't, i-if something, if—" She took a few deep shuddering breaths, looking off to the side. "He. He scares me."

She had ever right to be scared, knowing what he knew… fuck. Curly realized with a sinking dread that as of now, he was the only one on the ship who knew exactly how far Jimmy might go. "…We, we can figure this out," he managed.

He tried not to be hurt by the skepticism she wore. She didn't have a damn reason to trust him, he'd let this happen. He'd stood by and just…

Curly had been a goddamned coward. "Would… you feel more comfortable if I were to lend you my room?"

Anya blinked up at him, "What?"

"If, if we switched quarters, would it make you feel… safer?" His room was the only one of the crew's that had a functional lock afterall.

"I-I can't, tha—that's, that wouldn't, I— I couldn't—"

He gently held up a hand to cut her off, "Anya. You shouldn't be afraid to sleep at night."

Something in her face shifted, brow pinching, mouth opening and closing. "B-But…?"

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you sooner."

The dam broke and the tears finally fell. He didn't dare touch her, but he held a hand out for her to take if she wanted. Her fingers shook as they wrapped around his own.

"I'm so fucking sorry."