6

—70 days until The Arrival—

Ever since that confrontation in the hallway, Jimmy had really been one hell of a pain in Curly's side.

All those snide remarks, every moment where the man pushed Curly's boundaries, hell, just being anywhere near the guy made his skin crawl.

It was like everything in his head became a confusing mash-up of anxiety, bitterness, and grief. It made him, in a sense, want to fucking scream. It also made him realize how strong Anya really had been. To just keep on working after all that? Jesus Christ.

It made him almost reconsider Daisuke's idea. All they'd have to do was wait until Jimmy went to sleep and ask Swansea for that ax…

But he had to keep the peace. No matter what, he had to make sure this didn't get out of hand. He could not afford to get blindsided or lose rationality.

Curly sighed, shaking his head, besides… he wasn't that kind of a person, not without reason, not without having his back pressed against the wall. There had to be other ways to manage this, to keep things stable.

Or maybe he needed to focus on keeping the crew stable? Which certainly was getting easier after talking to the rest of them. He'd even managed to learn some things he hadn't known before, kind of like how Swansea apparently liked to collect differing styles and colors of sneakers or how Anya had actually been born in Ukraine before her family immigrated to the United States.

And wasn't that something? He was actually talking to them now, he was actually listening to them. He could be the captain they needed him to be.

Those initial first talks and the talks after had really forced his hand. Just. He had to finally throw in the towel and say that yes, he couldn't make it alone anymore. It felt like one of the bravest things Curly had ever managed in his life, besides talking back to Jimmy or applying for that damned captain's position nearly a decade ago.

The thing was, he also was genuinely feeling better. Curly was sleeping again (though for the life of him, he could only get genuine rest if he was on the floor and if someone else was in the room), was able to drink down a liquified meal here and there (though even then it sometimes was troublesome keeping things down), and he felt like he was real again. Not just some… some cheap mockery of a man, not just an absent shade wandering the halls.

And this time, this time he was going to act like the man he felt himself becoming. He wasn't going to sit back and let tragedy happen, no, never again.

—69 days until The Arrival—

"Imma… so I'm going, uh roll this dice and dependin' how it lands, that influences whether'not I get to move on?"

"Yup! Though, funfact, when it's only one dice, it's a die, Captain!" Daisuke shifted in his spot, watching as the captain took his chance and rolled.

Curly tried not to show his displeasure at rolling a bloody fucking one, "…die huh?" He moved his piece one damn spot.

"Mhmmm, okay, Anya your turn!" He scooped up the dice— die— and handed it over.

Anya smiled, though there was something eager and confident about the motion. Not some skittish or shy thing, no, this one was ready for the challenge. She rolled and gave a loud 'YES!' as it landed on a six.

Daisuke and Curly stared before the captain put his head in his hands, "Christ, I'mma lose this so badly, ain't I?"

Anya positively cackled.

—67 days until The Arrival—

Curly stared from Swansea to the tools laid out infront of him and then back again, "Uhhhhh, so, a Phillip head… this one…?"

He picked up a screwdriver and held it out, making a face as the technician gave the tool a hard once over. The man grunted and nodded, "Good. Looks like you're actually paying attention, boy. Though. Daisuke certainly managed to pick it up quicker."

While he did roll his eyes, the captain still felt relieved that he'd gotten it right, "Cheers to that."

"Now show me the needle-nose pliers."

The blond stared back down with a hesitant frown. "Uh."

—65 days until The Arrival—

Anya chewed on her lip a moment as she stared at the star map, tracing the differing names and their constellations with her eyes. "There's… there's a lot to remember." All she could figure was Orion's Belt and the Big Dipper, how in the world the captain kept those and more in his head was beyond her.

Curly chuckled, not moving from his position, "I've had years of practice."

"How do you keep it straight in your head?"

The blond tilted his head, running his finger from one star to another, "Hm, I suppose I just'ave always liked stars? If there's one thing I liked bout livin' away from the cities while growing up, less light pollution. It, well, heh. It was one hell of a sight, Anya."

"I admittedly can't wait to get back to earth." She let herself fall back on the bed, closing her eyes as she twiddled her thumbs. "You know what I really miss?"

"Yeah?"

"Hearing the birds sing in the morning."

—62 until The Arrival—

Curly stared at Jimmy for a long time after the man had stalked into the cockpit, there was just something off about the other man's stance. "What you looking for, Jim?"

The man wrinkled his nose, "The fuck you talking about, I'm doing my fucking job and not just playing goddamn house with a bunch of slackers."

"Watch it," he muttered, glancing off to the side. "That's my crew you're talkin' about."

"Get over yourself," Jimmy snapped, shoving past him to look over the control panel.

Curly felt himself tense on instinct, "Get away from there now."

"What was that?" The brunet stilled before turning to eye him with a flash of teeth, "The hell you say to me?"

The captain hesitated. He looked off to the side as he tried to keep his breathing under control, "I-I already checked, uh, checked everything—"

"Well, I'm checking again, Captain."

Curly crossed his arms to hide the tremble in his hands, waiting until the other man was apparently satisfied with what he saw. Then the brunet stalked past him and out the room, leaving him to scrabble to remember his grounding exercises.

—61 days until The Arrival—

"I. What did I just, uh, walk in on…?" Anya looked over to see the captain stood there in the doorway as Daisuke turned as much as he could to give a wave.

"Heya, Captain! Anya's doing my makeup now that I finished painting her nails!"

The woman nodded with a small smile, raising her hands briefly to showcase the rich sapphire along her fingernails. "We found, uh, we found a box in the bathroom, had a bunch of cosmetics."

The blond hummed softly, tilting his head with a furrowed brow. "Is that why I swore Swansea had nail polish on?"

Anya nodded sagely. "Trial run. Had to make sure it was still good.

"Had to make sure it wasn't all crusty," Daisuke mused. The intern then perked up, "Oh! You want to get prettied up next?"

Curly opened and closed his mouth a few times before stating flatly, "I don't think what's left of my masculinity would survive."

Anya scoffed, "Coward."

The captain gave an offended sniff, "Hey—"

"Join us," Daisuke spoke solemnly.

The nurse grinned, "Yeah, Captain, join us!"

With an over the top groan, the man drifted over to sit down besides the two, raising a critical brow. "…you better make me look good, yeah?"

"Can do," Anya beamed before returning to applying Daisuke's eyeliner.

—59 days until The Arrival—

"Hey, Captain?"

"Whats'it, Daisuke?" The man moved to hold his warm mug in his hands, closing his eyes with a content hum. They were starting to run low on coffee, so he was going to savor it while they had it.

"How come sometimes you got like, like an accent? Like in the mornings when we're getting ready or when you're hanging out with me and Anya? You sound uhhhh… I dunno, Canadian?"

Curly opened his eyes with a brief wince, "Oh, 'orry bout— sorry about it, I didn't realize I was letting it, it slip back in—"

"Huh, no, like, not in a bad way!" The intern smiled, "It sounds kinda cool actually, like, uh, like I dunno, but are you Canadian then?"

The man felt his face flush, his accent sounded… cool? He was always used to the odd look or the teasing, not genuine interest. Though he did snort a bit at being called Canadian of all things.

"I'm from all'bouts the place, born in one of em smaller places in England, though I'd have to ask my mum bout where exactly… then me folks and I lived in Queensland for awhile. After that… New Guinea I'tink a yearso? Near one of em port cities? Was a bad year that one, bit of a blur." He leaned back, furrowing his brow, "…I think then in bout middle school is when we moved into the american South, hopped bout there before moving cross country."

"Wow, I wish I could travel more, like, well my māmā and I went to visit my grandparents, on my da's side, a few times in Korea, oh— like South Korea—"

"Kinda figured."

"—but we never really did much else. Māmā hasn't been able to go out much with her treatment ongoing, b-but she did say they'd probably be done with the real bad ones by the time I got home! Oh!" Daisuke perked up visibly, leaning forward, "I just realized something!"

"Yeah?"

"I can like, totally introduce you to my māmā and da, wouldn't that be cool?"

Curly smiled, "Sure, I ain't gonna object. Would be lovely, I'm sure."

"Awesome! Oh— and, wait, so you said, like back to the accent thing? Why do you have it sometimes and then not other times?"

The captain took a sip from his mug, "Well… I—"

"It's 'cause he sounds like a damn hick when he talks like that, pretty unprofessional if you ask me," an all too familiar voice butted into the conversation. Jimmy sauntered in with a smug look, giving a mock frown and shrug at Daisuke's baffled look. "What? Is the bloody damn truth, ain't it, Cap'tin?"

"Mmm…" Curly sighed and just looked back to his mug of coffee, gritting his teeth. He didn't have plans to engage when Daisuke's voice spoke up in an uncharacteristic softness.

"Thats not very nice to say about the Captain."

Jimmy laughed, pouring himself a mug, "Oh loosen up, kid, it's a joke."

Curly frowned, glancing between the two. "It's… it's fine—"

"Oh! We're telling those kind of jokes?" Daisuke smiled widely, voice laced with a sickly sweetness. "Well I got one for you, Jimmy! You should shave off that ugly excuse for a beard before someone calls the cops on you for being too close to a school zone!"

Curly choked, "DAISUKE—!?"

Jimmy stilled. He turned and just blinked at the younger man, looking just as caught off guard. "…I— Jesus Christ, who spit in your chocolate milk?"

With an innocent shrug, Daisuke merely spoke sweeter, "What? I thought we were joking?"

Jimmy opened and closed his mouth before silently grabbing his coffee mug and leaving. Curly turned to Daisuke before breathing out, "That? That was fuckin' amazing."

Daisuke gave him the biggest, brightest smile imaginable.

—57 days until The Arrival—

Anya stared at Daisuke for a long, long time. She looked down at the board, back up at her friend, and then back down at the board. "I— what?"

Daisuke rested his face in his hands, raising his eyebrows challengingly.

The woman looked back to the game, "That's… you can't just—!"

"But I did."

She sputtered before making a harsh hand gesture and sourly moving her character figure all the way to the beginning again. She stared at it long and hard, "I think I hate you."

"You're a pretty sore loser—"

"Who said this game was over!" She huffed, grabbing for the die, "This isn't over, yet!"

–56 days until The Arrival—

"Captain, you got a moment?"

Curly blinked over to see Swansea in the doorway, expression somber and brow pinched. The captain gently eased his hands away from Daisuke (while the jabs from Jimmy about having his nails done had bothered him more than he'd liked to admit, the assurances he'd received from the rest of the crew had done wonders for his self-consciousness). Though, right now? All that was quickly pushed to the back of his mind.

There was something about the older man's tone that made alarm bells go off in his head.

He looked back and smiled at the intern, "I'll be back so you can finish my nails, later, yeah?"

The younger man glanced between him and Swansea before softly nodding, "Okay… I'm going to go find Anya."

The blond nodded approvingly, "See you later." Daisuke gave a casual salute before grabbing the bottles of nail polish and hurrying off, leaving Curly to turn back to Swansea. "What happened?"

The older man grunted, "Let's go chat in the cyro room."

Ah. So it was serious then. He tried to swallow back his nerves as he stood up.

~

When the door closed, Swansea finally spoke up once more, "That rat's been lurking bout the cockpit more than usual. I think he's looking for something."

Straight to the point as ever, even if the words had his blood run cold. Curly's expression must've said it all.

"…so he is looking for that gun, isn't he?"

He swallowed before nodding, "I— I've h-hidden it already."

"Fuck," The mechanic gave a heavy sigh of relief, running a hand down his face, "Okay, and it's somewhere he's not finding it—"

"Keep an eye on your room," Curly interrupted. It was getting harder to breath.

"What was that?"

The blond shivered, "Keep an eye on your room, Swansea, better yet, keep that ax on you from n-now on, or just, or at least close to you. Fuck— f-fuck I thought we'd have more time until, until h-he realized something was up…" He slid to the ground, hands coming up to clutch at his hair, breathing hitching.

"Hey," Swansea moved to crouch infront of him, snapping his fingers a couple times to get the captain's attention. "Look at me."

He blinked back tears as he listened.

"Just breath, kid, got it?"

"But— but what if— I can't, I don't want— n-not again—"

"Curly."

He flinched, looking back up with a shuddering inhale.

"You're not alone in this, got it?"

He sucked in a deep breath, let it out, and forced himself to nod.

"Good. Now we're going to sit here—" The man grunted as he forced himself down by the blond, "—and we're going to wait'til we're all calm downed before we go back out. Understood?"

With another trembling nod, Curly let himself cry.

—53 days until The Arrival—

A knock at the medbay door wasn't expected this close to the simulated night, but Anya got up from her supply check to answer on it nevertheless. It just wasn't who she'd expected, tilting her head when it was Swansea stood there. "Oh, hi… what's that?"

She looked to the travel bag he had slung over his shoulder. The man walked past her to set the bag on one of the counter tops, "Your pa ever teach you self-defense?"

Anya wasn't expecting that kind of a response, "Oh? Uh, well, my father wasn't really… around much. He… it doesn't matter. Why do you ask?" She walked over as Swansea began to carefully pull out what looked to be hand wraps and gloves of some sort.

"I know it ain't exactly my place, but… I'd feel better if you at least got the basics covered." He didn't meet her eye, looking off to the side with an awkward clearing of the throat.

Anya felt her heart swell, "I wouldn't mind learning. T-Thank you."

"I, er, you're welcome." He cleared his throat again, "Hmph, so, you ever thrown a punch before?"

—50 days until The Arrival—

Curly yawned widely as he looked off to the side, pausing when he realized that Daisuke and Anya had fallen asleep where they were settled on the couch.

The crew (sans Jimmy) had been settled about just watching the false night sky, talking on occasion but mostly just existing within the same space as one another. Curly, himself, had taken the time to read a book he'd always wanted to look over, Fahrenheit 451. It had always sounded like a strange concept, a story about a society that burned books and those that collected them, about a man that started questioning his role in life and the government he obeyed.

It was interesting, that's for sure. He'd… he'd gotten a bit too invested though, seeing as the last time he'd looked up Anya and Daisuke had been contently talking with one another and Swansea had been writing in a journal of his. Now the before mentioned two were fast asleep while Swansea appeared to be resting as well. The older man lounged back, hands folded in his lap while his eyes were closed.

Curly tucked his book under his arm, biting back another yawn as he moved to grab a near blanket. With a hum, he settled it over Anya and Daisuke, neither even stirring as they sprawled against one another. The blond couldn't help but smile tiredly, moving to carefully sit down near them.

Setting his book off on the near coffee table, he stretched his arms over his head as he leaned back. With a content hum, he looked at the faux stars. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thought of a dead pixel, even if he still couldn't quite spot it, he searched for it nevertheless.

Curly didn't even realize he was falling asleep as his eyelids eased shut and his breathing evened out. It would be the first time he'd managed to sleep in the open since he'd first woken up from his hell.

Swansea would peek an eye open a minute later, glancing over the sleeping trio before moving to stand with a huff. He stepped over, and carefully as not to wake any of them, eased the blanket so it could cover Curly as well.

With that done, he walked back to his chair and let himself drop back onto it. He folded his hands back in his lap and closed his eyes once more, keeping up his silent vigilance.

—48 days until The Arrival—

Anya glanced sidelong at Jimmy as the man stalked back and forth by the coffee pot, her hand gently clutching at Daisuke's under the hidden view of the table. The man seemed more agitated than usual, the bags under his eyes darker and grim.

She swallowed before speaking up, "Is something wrong?"

The man glared over, she couldn't help but notice how disheveled he looked, "What?"

Anya felt Daisuke gently squeeze her hand. She took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, "Is there something wrong?"

Jimmy sneered, "Mind your own business, sweetheart."

"Don't call me t-that," she glanced off towards her plate as the man bit out a laugh.

"Oh? What, you—"

"She said not to call her that," Daisuke spoke up.

"Oh, look who's grown a pair." When the woman glanced up, the smile on Jimmy's face made her shudder. He peered at them, stalking over to set his hands on the table, "You two don't got a lick of respect between the two of you, do you?"

Anya's throat tightened, Daisuke tensed. Then the intern managed a smile, "You don't deserve my respect."

To say the copilot recoiled would be an understatement, something in his expression twisted. It looked wrong and uncomfortable and wild. "What was that?"

Daisuke raised his chin defiantly, "I. Don't. Respect. You."

The older man growled. When they flinched, he barked out a laugh, teeth bared. "I'm done with this bullshit." He slammed a hand on the table, making them jump before he slipped out the room altogether.

Anya couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief.

—4-47–47 days until Theaaaa—

thetruththelietheknowingtheculling

The Day— the day—

—7 days until His Choice—

"Hey— oh, what'n the world are you two doin'? Curly stared at where Daisuke and Anya were currently wrestling one another on the ground, Anya having the young man in a chokehold of all things while the guy struggled and squirmed.

"HELP— CAPTAIN SHE'S—"

"YOU DIRTY LITTLE CHEATER— I KNEW IT—!"

There was a disgusted squeak as Daisuke managed to somehow lick the other's arm. The woman's grip loosened just barely, Daisuke trying to make a break for it. He barely got up onto his hands and knees before Anya, in a startling show of vengeance, managed to tackle him.

Curly just stared, noting fully the board game shoved off to the side of the two. Clearing his throat, he called over his shoulder, "HEY? SWANSEA! CAN YOU COME HERE FOR A SECOND?"

—6 days until His Choice—

Anya furrowed her brow as she held her fists up, "And I let go like this…?" She swung a punch into the gloved hand before her, feeling the impact run through her limb.

"Atta'girl, though adjust your form kid, mimic my stance." Anya nodded sharply.

"Like this?" She shifted her feet.

Swansea gave a small grin, "Now you're getting it. Good work."

The woman couldn't help but beam back.

—5 days until His Choice—

Curly stared down at Daisuke's nail with a fierce concentration, not even realizing he was sticking his tongue out as he used the brush to carefully apply the bright red nail polish. "Was… was that alright?"

"Yeah! You're doing awesome, Captain!"

The man couldn't help but smile at the encouragement, looking up and over to where Anya was currently reading through one of her textbooks. "Hey, look at this, I'm gettin' the hang of this nail painting thing, Anya!"

She glanced over and gave a thumbs up, "Keep it up!"

The blond chuckled and nodded his head, narrowing his eyes back to the task at hand (ha! Get it? At hand?)

"Mhm…" He slowly moved the brush to the next finger, trying to keep the tremble in his fingers to a minimal.

—4 days until His Choice—

A man paced in the hallway before three doors. A man paced in the hallway in the middle of the night. A man bared his teeth and held his fists by his side as the crew slept well. A man felt hatred burn hot and acidic in his chest.

These idiots these idiots these fucking idiots—!

He'd show them, oh he'd show them all—he wasn't someone to fucking laugh at or dismiss! He'd teach them a fucking lesson even if he had to—

A man paced in his room. A man paced in the night. A man paced himself into a spiral with only himself to blame. But even then, a delusion of grandeur is stronger than a sense of accountability.

He was coming undone.

–3 days until His Choice—

Curly stood with his arms crossed, staring back steadily at the other man, "This ain't your room," he said softly.

"Oh, cut that out." Jimmy stared back, eyes bloodshot from a clear lack of sleep, hair disarrayed, skin pale. "It's not yours either."

"Don't act like you care," he didn't back down even when the other man took a step forward.

"Why are you doing this," the man hissed, stepping closer as his fists trembled by his sides, "Do you really hate me this much, huh?"

The captain stared the man down, trying to ease his breathing. He could do this. He had to do this. "I don't hate you. Even if I wish I did."

Jimmy recoiled, "What have I ever done to you!?"

Curly felt his skin burn. He felt his eye boil. He felt his flesh writhe. The man stood still, frown deepening. "This ain't your fuckin' room."

The man held his stare for a minute or two before, to his immense relief, those eyes darted to the side. Jimmy turned with a hiss, "Fuck you."

The man watched the man stalk back to his room, only sagging against the wall when that door closed. His heart raced in his chest, his blood pounded in his ears, but he couldn't help but laugh softly.

He turned and opened the door, slipping inside with a tired yawn.

—2 day until His Choice—

Anya nudged Curly as she noted he hadn't yet touched his plate, the captain blinking a bit as he seemed to snap out of whatever thoughts had consumed his mind. "You okay?"

The man hummed lightly, placing his chin on a fist, "Uh, I t'ink so, just… my head's feelin' kinda foggy." His eyes trailed off towards the empty chair at the table before snapping back to her with a shudder. Jimmy had been eating his meals in his room the last week or so.

"Mmmm… what's it feel like?"

"Like… some clouds'angin' over my head. I-I might just be hungry though?" He furrowed his brow, "Just. Feelin' off."

"You did skip out on breakfast earlier, maybe your body's getting used to somewhat regular meals again?"

He smiled weakly, massaging his temple, "Maybe? Just… j-just if you notice anything' lemme know, yeah?"

"Will do, Curly." She gave him an assuring pat on the shoulder, the captain humming softly and leaning his head back. "We only have about a month more to go."

"Cheers," he managed, sighing, "I can't wait to get him off this bloody fuckin' ship." Anya was certain they all shared the sentiment by then, this only proven when Swansea spoke up from where him and Daisuke had been absently talking with one another.

"I'd toast to that."

Curly snorted, moving to raise his cup. Daisuke snickered as he moved to mimic the gesture before Anya did likewise. Swansea was the last to join, but he was smiling as well.

Only a month away.

—1 day until His Choice—

A soft little melody played in the cockpit as Curly sat in the pilot's chair, taking a bite out of the stupid nutrition bar he'd grabbed from the kitchen around lunch time. Everything had been quiet as of late, particularly with Jimmy hiding away in his room most the time.

No one had any real complaints about that, honestly, but for some reason, the unease was building.

He wasn't the only one to notice it now, ever since he'd brought it up yesterday at dinner, he could see the other's were noticing it.

Like something was about to snap. He drummed his fingers gently against his side, where a pistol laid hidden, that silver case settled empty yet out of sight under that damned med bay bed.

He was ready this time. Oh, yes. He was ready. Curly made sure the autopilot was engaged, he made sure that the override command was in place to refuse any new orders a copilot would attempt to make, and he made sure that his mind was steady.

This time? This time he'd make sure to act. Again and again and again. He would fucking act. If not because he was a captain looking after his crew, but because he was a man looking after his family.