8

Anya stared at Jimmy coolly, the man slumped against the chair he was tied to, a gag currently having been forced into the man's mouth in order to get him to shut up. She tilted her head to the side, looking him up and down. While the woman, as a nurse, had been worried about infection or head injuries, Anya as a person couldn't muster up much towards the man before her right now.

If there was one word above all the rest that was circling through her mind, it was pity. "You're not going to struggle or try anything if you want your wounds treated, am I understood?"

Jimmy tilted his face up groggily so he could attempt to glare at her, one side of his face having swollen up notably between now and the last time she saw him. Anya kept her gaze steady, forcing herself to keep counting in her head and to keep breathing. She was silently satisfied by the fact that he was the first to look away.

"Good." She turned, pausing to glance back at him with a frown, "You know… I pity you, truly."

She could see the way his face twisted into a snarl, he didn't try to speak around the gag though. She sighed and left the space once more.

~

The next time she walked in there, she had her supplies and Swansea as backup. He gripped his axe tightly, the bloodied blunt end enough to get Jimmy to shudder. While it felt cruel, Anya took silent satisfaction in that response.

She moved cautiously to pull out Jim's makeshift gag, the ex-copilot quickly spitting off to the side with a cough the moment it was out. "Christ finally, why the fuck does that thing taste like fucking pickles?"

Anya stared, looking down at the rag, "I… what? Pickles?"

"Yeah, tastes like pickles, it's fuckin' disgusting!"

"…okaaaay." She glanced briefly at Swansea, the older man giving a shrug and shake of the head. "Well, if you'd stop screaming—"

"You locked me in a fucking supply closet!"

"You tried to assault me!" She snapped back.

He had the nerve to look annoyed, "You've been in the way—"

"Don't you dare," Anya's hands curled into fists as she spoke over the man, "You have been mentally and emotionally tormenting me for months on fucking end! You hurt my friends! You hurt me!" She poked a finger harshly against his chest, having finally had enough, "I will shove this gag back into your mouth and let you choke on it!"

A gentle hand on her shoulder eased her back, Anya letting out a shaky huff. Jimmy, curiously enough, just stared. He blinked a couple times, face flicking between a half-snarl and something blank and startling empty. It was as though he were trying to muster up anger but failing.

The woman took a shuddering breath in, running a hand down her face with a heavy sigh, "Are you going to work with me here or keep acting like… like a jerk?"

He scoffed but his silence was good enough. "Finally, the quicker I get this done with, the sooner I can go back to not having to deal with you." She looked at Swansea with a tired smile, "Keep an eye on him while I look him over, please?"

Swansea moved the ax down so its blade struck soundly against the floor before the man moved to lean on the dull end. His eyes narrowed onto Jimmy with a grunt, "'course."

The ex-copilot was blissfully silent the rest of the time she was there save for the occasional hiss of pain, irritated grumble or barely whispered answer to any question she asked. Once the nurse had finished dressing the man's injuries and taking note of possible future concerns (particularly the bite from Curly, human bites afterall had a high chance of getting infected and the captain had torn a startling amount of skin and tissue away with his teeth), she packed her things back up.

"There we go," she said simply, peeling off her gloves, "Now, if you start to feel any building pressure or heat in any of your injuries, start to see unusual fluid leakage, or you find yourself slipping into periods of unconsciousness or lightheadness, let that be known as soon as possible, okay?"

The ex-copilot grunted, eyelids having begun to droop down. He might've had a concussion as well, but she figured he could sleep it off. She stood, brushed her hair back, and after a thoughtful moment, gave a little clearing of her throat. Jimmy stirred at the sound, blinking through his tangled hair at her. Anya smiled with all her teeth, giving him the middle finger before turning and leaving for good.

Swansea, afterall, had graciously offered to deal with changing the man's bandages and keeping an eye on his condition until they arrived at their destination. Anya would never have to see that bastard's face again, well, not until they got a court date set up.

~

When Curly came to, it was to find himself drenched in sweat and laid out on an unforgivingly familiar table. His breathing hitched, his chest tightened, and as he tried to move, a scorching hot pain flooded through the left side of his body.

It hurt. He made a sound, something wounded and pathetic, desperately blinking back building tears as his eyes darted about the familiar room. He inhaled sharply, wincing at the bright lights overhead, coughing out an exhale a moment later. He didn't hear the footsteps approach, he didn't see anyone enter the room, but then there was a shadow cutting across the brightness above him. He stared. Curly couldn't fucking act, he couldn't fucking move, it burned it burned it burned—!

"Captain?"

The warbled noise that clawed its way from his ever-too dry throat was shrill with panic, small and insignificant.

"Hey, hey, just— can you breath for me, please?"

It wasn't harshly spoken, it wasn't hands pinning him down as he struggled, it wasn't the anger he expected. The shell of a man found to his horror a sob slipping from himself, vision blurring as the tears began to fall. He didn't want this, he didn't— notagainnotagainnotagain— he didn't want this— hedidn'thecouldn'tdothisagainhecouldn't—

There was a light pressure on his right shoulder. His whole body shuddered, a sharp inhale carving through him at the contact. It hurt. "Can you… can you hear me, Curly?"

He tried to speak, tried to get his tongue to work, but it hurt to attempt. He fucking whimpered like a beat dog.

"…oh, Curly…" The voice said softly, the sheer empathy in that simple statement having him attempting to choke down another sob. "I know. I know it's a lot."

It wasn't Jimmy, it wasn't him. The voice was understanding and light, who was it!? Who… who was… it had to be someone else right? Yeah, yeah, it was, it—

"Captain, it's okay. You're safe."

—it was Anya talking to him. Yeah. It was just Anya. She wouldn't hurt him, she wouldn't, right?

Curly hiccuped, attempting to focus on the woman's face, frantically trying to blink his vision clear. Careful fingers wiped at his cheeks and he sniffled loudly, "'or—rry."

"It's okay, I know you're probably confused and hurting, Captain." That's not what he meant. "I… do you need a hug?"

Itwouldhurtitwouldhurtitwouldhurt—

He managed the smallest of nods. She didn't need much more than that before she silently leaned over to wrap him in a hug, the caution she put to try and avoid hurting him making his heart ache. He ignored the pain and simply moved to bury his face into her shoulder, shaking with sobs and not caring anymore.

He wasn't alone.

~

Curly wasn't sure how long it took him to stop his crying, but when his words finally came back to him, the first thing he asked was to get the hell out of the medbay. He just couldn't be in there right now, he fucking couldn't stand it when all he could taste was blood in his mouth, all he could feel was the aches and burning, he just— he fucking couldn't do this.

And Anya? Incredible, amazing, Anya?

She didn't even push him for explanations. The nurse just asked him about his current pain levels, handed him some pain pills (which he very much had to resist the urge to throw away before quickly swallowing them down with a swig of water), and helped him to stand so they could walk to the nearest bathroom where he could get himself tidied up. He was, however, starting to get really flustered by the fact he had to be helped around like this (though, at least he still had all his limbs attached this go around, yeah?)

"M'sorry," he muttered after they'd stopped outside the bathroom, the man leaning his head back as he stared at the ceiling. He felt fucking cold, hungry, and like he had one hell of a hungover.

"You don't have to apologize," Anya assured. The woman handed him the change of clothing she'd grabbed, Curly regarding it before tucking it under his right arm.

He felt like she didn't understand. "Anya, really, I'm sorry."

"Seriously, don't worry about it, Cap—"

Curly cut her off desperately, "Anya. Please. Not just about this."

"About what then…?" She asked, tilting her head, those eyes as sharp and inquisitive as ever.

"Just. Just I'm so fucking sorry for so much, I s-should have been more help, I— I'm sorry I let this happen, I—"

"Curly." He fidgeted in place, looking down at the ground, "You gave me your room so I'd feel safe, you actually took the time to listen to me, and you quite literally bit Jimmy for me! I kinda figured out that you meant what you said about doing more for not just me, but the crew as well."

"I… well…" The blond furrowed his brow, eyes darting back to her, "Wait, what was that last thing? I did what now?"

"How about you go get changed first, okay? We can talk more then."

He blinked slowly at her, "I bit Jimmy? Like, with my teeth?"

She sighed, gently pushing him towards the door until, still utterly baffled by this information, the blond finally just went inside.

~

Curly admittedly almost had a heart attack when he saw a form moving in the room, freezing in place as he stared long and hard at what turned out to be a fucking mirror. It took a while longer, embarrassingly so, for him to further realize that person in the mirror was himself.

Just— yikes, he hadn't quite realized how banged up he was, the blond stumbling a step closer with wide eyes.

His nose had clearly been broken, the bridge having a strip of bandaging over it— maybe to help it stay in place? He wasn't too sure— but still visibly inflamed and offset by a bit. That wasn't even bringing up the busted lip, black eye, and the scrapes and cuts across his cheeks and forehead. Which, speaking of forehead, he leaned in to carefully part his messy hair, a startling dark outstretching bruise surrounding the busted skin about the center of his forehead. He gingerly brushed his fingertips against the area before flinching back at how tender it was.

Curly sighed, eyes wandering down to his chest when a couple more realizations struck.

There was heavy bandaging around his left shoulder and upper arm and… uh. Well to be blunt, he was fucking shirtless? Huh, so that's why he'd felt so cold, how the hell had he overlooked that? Oh God. He tensed in growing horror. He'd been walking around the ship without a shirt on! Christ, that was mortifying!

Ignoring the heat rising to his cheeks, his eyes trailed away to his shoulder again, easing his right arm up to trace the thick, yet carefully done, bandaging. Curly winced, trying to shift his left arm a bit, and while he couldn't feel the burning anymore, it was nearly impossible to get the limb to move. He had a feeling it wasn't just the bandaging preventing the motion, though as he attempted to, he could still sorta move his fingers. So it didn't seem paralyzed, just… out of commission. Which thank fuck, Curly did not want to deal with what an amputation would do to his mind right now.

He was already feeling vulnerable and skittish at best, so yeah, he did not want to push himself into some new mental hell.

After looking himself over a moment more, Curly couldn't help but bare his teeth to see if there was evidence of him apparently fucking biting Jimmy, though to his relief, he didn't see some bloody grin worn on his reflection's face. Just a grimace. He sighed and moved to worm on the loose shirt he'd been given so he was no longer exposing the world to his fucking tits.

Elsewise he changed his undergarments, britches, and began to carefully distangle and rebrush his hair with his fingers.

While he may have felt like shit, that didn't mean he had to look like it, too.

~

Anya couldn't help but find it strange to see Curly in casual daytime clothing, sure, she'd seen him and Daisuke in their jammies after they'd started those sleepovers, but this just felt wrong.

The captain was stood in a loose white t-shirt (incase his shoulder started bleeding through the bandages, it'd make it easier to take note of) and a shitty pair of denim jeans. He looked… well, honestly, he looked like just some random white guy you'd see walking around at like a beach boardwalk or something.

It did make Anya admittedly curious how he dressed outside of this job, because while he always kept his uniform tidy and clean, his jammies were frequently the most peculiar outfits one could imagine. Or well, that was she found out about such after her and Daisuke managed to break the captain out of his habit of just sleeping in his work uniform.

It had been a shock to say the least when she'd first seen one of the man's nighttime outfits. For crying out loud, the man's main three outfits consisted of the following; bright pink shorts paired with a green-based t-shirt covered with different species of ducks, star-themed pants with an eye-bleeding tie-dye tee, and his most normal of the bunch, orange sweatpants paired with a black shirt saying 'I <3 coffee.'

So if he wore that stuff to sleep, and he looked like this with a more casual outfit, what in the world would he look like in an outfit he picked out?

Anya was pulled from her thoughts by the man saying the dumbest thing she'd yet to hear. "I guess I should, uh, get back to work now, yeah?"

The woman blinked, "Um. How about no?"

Curly stared back, "Huh? Why not?"

"Curly. You had a panic attack in the medbay, almost spiraled on the way here, and you've been asleep for the last several hours due to a concussion. You are not going to do any work right now."

"I, uh, well, I'm alright now."

She raised an eyebrow, "Go sit your ass down in the common room."

Curly opened his mouth, closed it a moment, before sighing heavily. Then he sadly shuffled away, Anya dragging her hands down her face. Why was Swansea the only other sane person on this ship?

~

It seemed everyone else on the ship (sans Jimmy) was also in the common room, Swansea snoring away in a chair while Daisuke was turned away, attention on the countertop infront of him.

The captain went to itch at his face before reminding himself not to aggravate anything and let his hand drop. He cleared his throat, "Hey."

Swansea didn't respond, the man just giving another snore. Daisuke, on the other hand, turned to greet him in turn.

"Jesus Christ—!" Curly jerked back when he saw the young man's face, eyes widening at the stitched up wound drawing across his face, the injury just missing shy of one eye and carving through a large section of his cheek. The way the stitches came together created a sunken impression along the skin and flesh.

He took a step back, breath hitching momentarily as a memory clawed its way up, oh how clearly he could see the bloodied damage caused by a well-placed ax blade. The lifeless eyes, the way the blood pooled downwards with gravity, the blank expression as the mouth drooped open in a wordless nothingness.

He felt bile rise in his throat, stepping back a few more trembling steps, breath hitching. Daisuke couldn't be dead, he was fine— he was alive! They were all alive and fucking fine a-and— oh Christ— it all came flooding back.

The gun. The struggle. Panic, Jimmy struggling to take the pistol— oh fuck, oh fuck— he remembered biting the other man, forcing his jaws down tighter and tighter before his face erupted into agony as Jimmy kicked him— the— getting shot— itburneditburneditburneditburned— nothing. Curly inhaled sharply, sucking in a breath, blinking as he looked back up to where Daisuke had been.

He was still there. Standing tense with his face drawn into a clear unease and worry. Curly wheezed, "I-I forgot— forgot what happened."

He didn't know if the younger man understood what he was talking about, but the captain didn't care. He hurried over, taking the intern's face in his good hand as he took deep, heaving breathes, "Christ your face, what happened!?"

Daisuke didn't move, just blinking up at him, "I— uh, J-Jimmy got me with, um, a knife?" The younger shifted awkwardly on his feet, Curly noting he wasn't wearing his usual floral overshirt and merely the yellow, uniform shirt he usually had underneath. Had the over shirt gotten blood on it or something? Oh he hoped that washed out— shit—

"K-Knife?"

The intern nodded gently, giving a grimace, "He tried to, uh, he tried to stab Anya? I think y-you passed out while that was happening?"

Curly swallowed, nodding softly as he released the other. He cleared his throat, looking off to the side, "Sorry— sorry I shouldn't have g-grabbed your face— fuck, I, uh, I didn't re-open anything did I—!?"

"It's okay! Really, see?" Daisuke moved to be back in his line of sight, giving an uncharacteristically small smile (Curly guessed so he didn't pull on his stitches), pointing at his face. "All good! All my stitches are all good, Captain!"

The blond let out a breath, moving to raise one hand to run through his hair before finding he tried to move the wrong arm when a numb shudder went through his left side again.

"Are— uh, you good?"

He smiled weakly, "Not r-really, heh— you?"

Daisuke nodded before admitting quietly, "Uh, I… I feel like numb, right now?"

"That so?" He could understand that, eyes trailing towards the countertop and noting to his curiosity that the sweetener container had been pried open.

The intern followed his gaze before giving a wince, "Don't tell Swansea or Anya I'm eating sweetener again, please? I'm coping?"

Curly smiled, snorting. "I ain't gonna say a thing as long as I get some, too."

Daisuke gave a soft laugh, "Deal."

~

The fact the attempted murder of Anya had only lasted minutes was still a baffling matter to wrap the head around. Even more so when one realized that after Curly had awoken, it was only about noon regarding the ship's simulated day cycle. Jimmy just had to go and try shit at breakfast, yeah?

The captain sighed around the water he was sipping at, sat on the countertop because fuck it, he could very well sit up there if he do pleased, it had been a fucking day already. Daisuke was sat next to him, sticking his fingers into a sweetener package so he get lick the sugar off, kicking his feet from where they dangled.

Curly closed his eyes, sighing. Today was dragging on, that's for sure.

It took almost a week after that day for the crew to get back into some semblance of normal, and oh, when they'd settled back down? That tension that had been building and looming over them all had been reduced to nothing but a low irritated buzzing in the back of their heads.

It took a couple more days after that for Curly to actually ask where exactly Jimmy was, more importantly what had been done with the man. He hated how relieved he was to hear that his ex-friend was still alive, but well, he had been creating some pretty intricate plans for what to do with Jimmy that kinda sorta needed the man to be alive.

Mostly, he wanted to see Jimmy face the goddamn consequences of his actions, to know that in the end it was his own fucking fault regarding where he'd ended up. And ohhhhhh, Curly could pull strings, he could talk with people, and he could fucking make sure that all the shit Jimmy had pulled would never again be brushed under the rug.

Though. He hated to admit he just needed to talk to him, one last time, one last attempt at understanding. It was selfishly for his own peace of mind, and as the crew still seemed wary of actually telling him where Jimmy was, he waited until he was moving well enough on his feet again to follow Swansea to the place the ex-copilot was set up in.

He wasn't all that shocked to learn they'd shoved the man into a supply closet of all things, waiting for the nighttime to slip out of Anya's room (while logically, they were all safe now, it was agreed that the sleepovers could still be a regular thing, it was fun afterall). He walked along the halls like a ghost, dressed in his favorite orange sweats and tie-dyed tee as he took in every rumble or shift in the ship's walls, the comforting sounds of the machine's being.

He didn't even realize he'd arrived at the door until he was stood at it, blinking slowly as he stared blankly ahead. Ah. Yeah… he sighed and undid the lock, straining his ears to listen before glancing behind himself quickly. No one was around, no one had heard him sneaking off (at least to his knowledge), and finally, with a nervous hum, he opened the door and stepped inside.

~

Curly fumbled for the light a moment before flicking it on, wincing as he hurriedly blinked and waited for his eyes to catch up with the brightness. A matching hiss and grumble from infront of him had the captain squinting over, tensing momentarily as he saw Jimmy sprawled out on a cot that had been shoved under one of the shelves that supplies used to go.

"What the fuuuuck?" The man complained, rubbing at an eye with hands notably unbound. Oh. Yeah. The crew had mentioned they let the guy have use of his hands for eating and stuff, espically since Swansea was mostly the only person that came in here, since they knew Jimmy wouldn't try to attack him.

Curly couldn't really find it in himself to be nervous though, afterall, he'd realized that with that whole fight for the gun and the apparent possession of a knife by Jimmy, the man could have easily killed him at any point. After the incident, he expected that at some point Jimmy would have gotten tired of forcing pills down his charred throat and dealing with his mangled form, finally just killing him. But well.

Jimmy never had wanted him dead, had he? Just out of the way and subdued.

"Hey," he managed, "It's just me."

To say the man looked at him with something desperate and hungry would be an understatement, Jimmy's eyes widening a touch before the man was slipping to his feet, stumbling a moment to smile at him, "Curly!"

He was almost startled by the fact he was being dragged into a hug then, though the motions were far more aggressive and smothering than any other hug one could receive. The blond let it happen though, "You doing alright?"

"You kidding me, asshole?" Jimmy scoffed, leaning back with his hands grasping onto the blond's shoulders (Curly was proud of himself for not absolutely writhing at the pain it caused). "I'm stuck with a supply closet as a room and that stuck-up prick being my only human contact! I'm fucking losing it!"

The blond made sure not to say aloud how that ship had already long since sailed. "Yeah, well, you know, you did try to kill someone."

The brunet rolled his eyes, "She was in the way, don't you realize I was doing it for us?"

"Really?" Curly sighed, "I never asked for that, you know I never did."

"You don't know what's for your own good," the man crooned, smiling kindly. It was condescending in a pretty little bow. "I can fix this, I can fix it all."

"Yeah?"

If there's one thing Curly knew by now, it's how to get Jimmy to talk to him. He just had to be careful with how he approached this. "Of course, we're friends, afterall! I'll even forgive you for shoving me and biting me, you were confused and stressed."

The blond would do it all again in a heartbeat. "What about after, how in the world would that have worked?"

"You dumbass, I would have had us covered, don't worry about it, I had plans, I had ideas!"

Curly couldn't help but wonder how much of this so-called plan involved 'straight up just killing people.'

"What? Don't give me that stupid, sad fucking look, I mean, don't you get it? They've polluted your mind, Curly! All of them, but especially that fucking bitch."

"Please don't call her that."

"Loosen up, stop being such a prissy little princess, yeah?"

The blond squirmed as Jimmy applied pressure to his left shoulder, "Fuck— would you please stop that, that's the shoulder you shot."

Jimmy flinched back, eyes widening as he snatched his hands back. It was a curious display, that's for sure. "Hey— hey I didn't— it was that fucking, the brat's fault!"

"You broke my nose, too. And gave me a busted lip and black eye."

"Look, look, I never wanted to hurt you," Curly had to fight back the urge to roll his eyes, "You just got in the way, you should know better, it would have been fine if you'd just let me take care of things and take responsibility."

The captain had to curl his hands into fists to fight the urge to snatch the rat of a man up by his fucking collar. "Responsibility?" He managed to keep his tone light, casual.

"Of course, you're not in your right mind, Curly."

He scoffed, "Oh?"

"I mean, heh, have you seen how you've been acting? I mean, ha! You fucking bit me! I can't walk right anymore! Not to mention how stupid you've been!"

"Mmm." He was fighting the urge to fucking bite Jimmy again right now.

"I mean, like, come on! Do you think any of those idiots will understand you like I do? Do you think any of them actually care about you like I do? I've been your best friend since way back in middle school! And well, sure we lost contact after high-school, but don't you see? The universe brought us back together again! It's because only I," Jimmy gestured grandly to himself, "Can give you what you need in a friend. Haven't I been there for you, haven't I listened to your complaining? I'm not a bad guy here!"

"They care about me."

Jimmy pulled him closer by his arm, smiling wider, "But do they? They're using you, Curly, I mean, just fucking look at us! They've turned you against me, lied to you, manipulated you!"

The blond sighed, "They've been kind to me."

"They've been fucking soft! You never used to be this fucking pathetic, you used to be fun! Now you're a stuck up prick that likes to dance around like a fucking fa—"

"Don't call me that."

"Oh for Christ's sake, grow up! This little bitching of yours? You need to fucking get it together, seriously, do you not hear yourself? That's not how a person should fucking act, that's not how a man should ac—"

He couldn't keep it back anymore, his tongue burned with months worth, no, years worth, of unspoken words.

Curly yelled, "Well maybe you don't make me feel like a person when I'm around you! Did you ever think of that!? That I feel like nothing more than a goddamn step-ladder for you!? Like a useless slab of meat! You've used me! Every fuckin time I thought I meant something to you, it was always just for your own gain, wasn't it!?"

"What the fuck are you talking about—"

"Don't act like you cared, don't lie to me like that now! I'm tired of it, Jimmy! Don't you get it!? I'm sick and tired of you treating everyone around you like shit! I'm done being treated like shit!"

"I care— of course I fucking care—!"

"You terrify me! You make me feel stupid and useless and wrong! You always have!"

"You're confused—!"

"And you're fucking delusional!"

Both men stood face to face, breathing heavily before Jimmy snapped, "I thought you worth something, you stupid asshole!"

"…well. Well maybe I don't want you to define my worth anymore." Curly blinked back tears, sighing heavily as he moved to wipe at his face, "Jesus, why did I think this was a good idea?"

"Hey, hey what are—"

"Please. Stop talking." There must have been something about his tone, but to his utter surprise, for once, Jimmy listened to him without complaint.

The man trembled with something akin to rage, though the heat of it wasn't quite all there. His eyes were wide, staring at Curly intensely. The captain sighed, managing to smile tiredly, "Just. Listen, will you?"

A scoff.

"I… I won't lie, I really… I missed hanging out with you, I missed talking to you, I. I just. God, you remember that time back in eighth grade when we were invited to that one party? The one with that huge indoor pool?"

"…ninth grade."

"Was it?" Jimmy crossed his arms with a nod, looking impatient. "…well. I may not remember the more precise things, but I always did remember what happened when I almost drowned. You were the one to pull me out afterall. But. But I'll never quite forget how you looked at me when I finally could breath again, when the adults finally came in to drag me off to the hospital."

"What are you talking about?"

Curly smiled tiredly, "There was relief sure… but you hated me so much then, didn't you? The moment the spotlight left you to focus on me? I remember the anger in your eyes. It stuck with me, and for so long, I thought it was just the trauma of nearly dying."

Jimmy was breathing harder now, lip curling, "You're misremembering, why would I ever want to hurt you?"

"Don't lie to me," he whispered, stepping forward as he locked eyes with the other, "I've fucking seen what happens when you don't get your way, I know now how blind I was."

The man stepped back, shrinking away from the sharp eye contact, "What?"

He leaned in, baring his teeth, "You know, you were right in a sense, I'm not the Curly you knew. You, heh, you remember how sometimes we'd talk about God? How a being so powerful to apparently make a whole universe was either malevolent or loving?"

Jimmy swallowed with a shallow nod, looking unsure.

"I've found out, it doesn't matter. You were right afterall."

"I-I was?"

"Yuuuuu-p. No one's going to save you but yourself. A miracle ain't no free ticket. A God won't hold your hand through life. You struggle, suffer, and eventually you die." He let out a shaky breath, "But sometimes…? Sometimes life gives you a second chance. I've witnessed first hand what could have happened if I didn't stop you at that door. How far you'd take it. Have you ever wondered how it feels to burn alive, Jimmy? To have to lay in your own agony and filth because you're not allowed to fucking die?"

The other swallowed again, "The hell are you on about?"

Curly pressed himself closer into the other's space, eyes wide, "I've seen so much. I have hurt for so long. I wanted to fucking die for months on end. But you? You wouldn't let me. It hurt, Jimmy. Every day hurt. And for some reason, I was given a second chance. So you listen to me. And listen fucking closely, am I understood?"

"O-okay—"

"Address me properly."

"Okay, okay, uh, Captain."

"I'm not stupid and I'm not blind. I cared about you, I still do for some fucking reason, so I will make sure you're taken care of, yeah?"

"R-really?"

Curly chuckled, leaning back with a lazy head tilt, "Of course. I just… want you to apologize for what you did to my crew."

"I— look, look it was never— so it was never personal or, I mean, hell, that kid, that was on me? The knife, yeah? A big ass mistake, and uh— Swansea? Great guy, I'm sorry, Captain. I won't press my luck like that ever again, I swear—"

"You're forgetting someone."

The man opened and closed his mouth, looking genuinely confused for a moment. "The… that fucking nurse? I didn't do anything—"

He heard enough, "Okay."

Jimmy gave him a look, brow furrowing, "I— what does, are we good then? You'll— heh— you'll get me out of here, right? Your good old friend, yeah?"

"Of course," he lied. "I just want you to keep behaving, keep quiet, and I swear—" He moved to drag the man into one last hug, "—I'll make sure you get everything you deserve."

The ex-copilot laughed, "Oh, thank fuck! I knew you weren't stupid! You've always been such a gracious and kind man!"

Curly pulled away, moving to pat the other on the shoulder, "Get some rest, yeah?"

Jimmy grinned at him, "Sure thing, Captain."

The blond smiled back, a somber and bittersweet thing. He turned, walked out the door, and locked it.

He exhaled heavily, walking back to Anya's room with tears welling up. He paused when he moved to open the door, the damn thing swinging open for him instead.

The captain swallowed thickly as Daisuke stared back tiredly, "Heard you—" the younger yawned widely, "—get up, you good?"

Curly gave a weak chuckle, "Admittedly…? No. No, I'm not."

The young man gave a sad little hum, "Wanna talk about it?"

"…I wouldn't mind that actually."

Daisuke smiled, "Here, we can sit out here so we don't wake Anya."

The captain nodded, feeling the tears begin to fall, "Yeah. Yeah—" he wiped at his face, "—thank you. Really."

"I mean, what are friends for," Daisuke chirped contently with a lazy shrug.

"I'm glad to have friends like you," Curly said as they both settled down, sighing before he told Daisuke about his talk with Jimmy.