11

—30 days until the Arrival—

"Do you ever think about how things would have been like if you choose to do one thing differently?" Daisuke apparently decided one in the morning was the perfect time to get philosophical.

Truthfully, it was his fault for answering the intern's innocent question of 'Hey, Curly? Are you awake?'

Curly ran a hand through his hair as he stared at the ceiling, "I think about it all the time."

"Yeah… so like if you could go back and do one thing differently, what would you do?"

"Heh. Ironic," He muttered softly to himself. Curly rolled over onto his good side to look at the younger man, "It doesn't really matter."

Daisuke blinked back at him in the dark of the room, "Well, you know what I'd do?"

"Hm?"

"I'd like… uh, kick Jimmy in the balls—"

There was a loud snort of laughter, causing the two to startle, Curly stiffening before realizing that at some point, Anya had apparently woken up as well. "Jesus Christ, didn't know you were awake, too, Anya."

A soft laugh, he could make out the woman shifting in bed so she could look over, "Sorry, I woke up a little bit ago and was just kind of listening."

"Lil' eavesdropper," Curly mused, closing his eyes with a nod.

"Sooooooo…," Daisuke spoke up, "Well… since you're awake, too, what about you?"

"What about me, Daisuke?"

"What would you change about the past if you had the chance to?"

There was a steady pause before the woman spoke slowly, hesitant in a manner, "I… I don't know, maybe… maybe I would have talked to Swansea first, uh, sorry, Curly."

The man just hummed. He couldn't blame her, he said as much. "Swansea can get a job done if asked, I'm 'fraid I've been too much a coward to step up like that."

"Mmm."

He opened his eyes again to stare at the ceiling, Curly twirling a lock of hair between his thumb and index. The quiet stretched, awkward and a bit stilted, but not entirely agonizing. Just. Unsure.

"I bet Swansea would kick Jimmy in the balls with me," Daisuke stated with a light tone, effectively shattering the moment.

Anya snorted and Curly barked out a laugh as he moved to sit up and stare at the intern. The guy just smirked over, "I'm totally right."

"You know, you ain't wrong." The blond gave a returning smile, "I'd pay some good money to see that."

"There's still a chance it could happen," Anya joked.

Curly couldn't help but laugh again at the thought, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

—29 days until the Arrival—

"Hey… how long are brownies good for?" Anya asked, staring down at the three plates of brownies left from the Browniepocalypse.

Swansea looked over before glancing at the brownie he was currently eating with a quirked brow. "Do they go bad?"

"I mean… I'd assume so?"

"Still tastes good to me," the older said. He took another bite, leaning back against the counter top, "I'd say as long as they don't start tasting particularly weird or smelling off, they're probably good."

"…I worry about what you eat now."

"Let a fat, old bastard enjoy his damn brownie, kid."

—28 days until the Arrival—

Curly was sat criss-cross on the floor, tongue stuck out in concentration as he carefully creased a corner of the paper infront of him, awkwardly settled forward so he could use his weight to keep the paper in place while he folded.

He'd been cautiously experimenting again with some of his old interests, though he still couldn't quite help hiding himself away in either his room or the cockpit as he did so. He just, couldn't help but worry that the crew would think he was stupid or immature for these dumb little hobbies, but also, Anya had said having something to occupy his mind would be beneficial for him… so here he was.

Trying his damned best to fold some old origami paper into a swan (who that was for was pretty self explanatory), it was just the issue came with the fact he was essentially one-handed. His shoulder was healing as well as it could under the circumstances (though he may have had a panic attack yesterday after thinking too long about whether he'd ever have proper use of it again), but the fact of the matter was he was heavily restricted because of it.

The captain, while he had, thank fuck, taught himself how to be ambidextrous somewhere in his teen years after spraining his dominant hand, still would have greatly preferred to be able to use both hands again. His left arm was a struggle to move without either significant pain or an uncomfortable stiffness that made motion nigh impossible, his hand essentially locking up on itself most days.

And the days Curly's hand could be moved? It was weak motions, jerky and uncoordinated. He sighed, leaning back a moment as he wondered if using his teeth to fold some parts would be gross for a gift. The blond groaned aloud, letting himself lean forward again with an annoyed huff.

"At least ya still got the damn thing," he muttered to himself, giving a bitter laugh.

—26 days until the Arrival—

"I-I really don't think I'm good at this, Anya," Curly said weakly as he winced, the little mascara pen (or whatever the hell you called the thing, he'd tried to get the terms straight in his head but he just couldn't figure it out) shaking slightly between his fingers. "I donna'wanna make ya t'ink I'm trying to do bad on purpose here, or—"

"Curly, it's fine." She peeked an eye open, looking at the man calmly. "Seriously, it's okay."

Curly fidgeted, eyes trailing off to the side. "You, uh, you s-sure? I am really not that good at this—"

"Curly, you're being self-deprecating again."

The blond grimaced, "I mean, is it— is it really though? Cause I genuinely don't think I'll ever—"

He got smacked upside the head, wincing and blinking wide-eyed at Anya. She gave him a stern stare in turn, "Captain, what did I just say?"

He leaned away, sorely rubbing at the back of his head with a half-hearted glare. She barely gave more than a raised brow at his expression. Curly looked away, puffing out his cheeks, "Ya didn't have to smack me…"

"I absolutely did," she snorted, "Now come on, it's not called practice for nothing, Curly."

"Mmmm. I guess… Christ, fine." He adjusted himself, taking a deep couple of breaths, it didn't have to perfect, just… just practice. He nodded weakly and got back to work. He wasn't willing to ever admit it, but playing around with makeup was kind of fun.

—24 days until the Arrival—

Anya struck at Swansea's gloved hand in rapid succession, the man giving a grunt of approval. She grinned back, wiping an arm over her forehead. These 'punch sessions,' as Swansea amusingly called them, were becoming more and more of a routine part of life on the Tulpar for the woman.

It felt freeing in a sense, exhilarating in another, especially now that she knew these lessons did infact prove to be beneficial (she could still feel that buzz of satisfaction when she thought about punching Jim's tooth out). Besides, it was nice to hang out with Swansea, even if they didn't talk much, there was a tangible respect between them.

She wondered, quietly in the back of her mind, if this is what having a father should have felt like rather than an empty neutrality. Anya hummed, either way, she appreciated Swansea more than she could ever manage into words.

—22 days until the Arrival—

"So I fold it like this?" Daisuke muttered in concentration, Curly watching the guy stare back and forth between the sheet of paper he was working on and the guide book settled against Anya's leg (the woman was reading one of her textbooks while him and Daisuke did origami).

The blond smiled, "Yeah, so sometimes the instructions are a bit strange with how the arrows point and curl, but whatcha got goin' is perfect. Cheers!"

The younger man smiled, "Epic! And then I just fold it like this and…" He squinted at the directions, kicking his feet contently.

Curly hummed and finished folding his own creation, a little bird he thought might've been supposed to be a canary. He passed it over to Anya, who took a moment to notice the offering. When she did, she took the folded animal with an awed gasp, "That's so neat!"

For once, he let himself accept the praise. His smile brightened and he moved to grab another piece of paper.

—20 days until the Arrival—

"Swansea?" Anya sighed, leaning against the older man's side, "Can I ask you something?"

The man grunted, "What is it?"

"You ever… ever feel more at home away from what should be your home?"

She could feel the way he hummed at the question, closing her eyes. "Isn't that the thing, I suppose, what really makes a home, hm?"

Anya sighed, "I dunno."

"A home isn't some cold building, it's an experience, emotional and diverse."

"Can… can a home be more than one place?"

"Course, my home's where the folk I care about are. Simple as that." She was surprised that he'd openly admit something like that, though she supposed, it was a cautious admittance on his part.

She nodded quietly, letting her head fall against the man's shoulder. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"What was that, kiddo?"

"Thank you," she repeated, "Thank you for just… a lot. I-I never really had a father in my life."

He made a soft noise, stiffening a moment as though caught off guard. Then Swansea relaxed, an arm gently hugging her closer. It felt like answer enough to her.

—19 days until the Arrival—

"I don't see why I gotta be you two's tie-breaker," Swansea grunted as he looked between Daisuke and Anya. "Why don't you get Curly to do it—"

"He's too indecisive," Daisuke groaned, Anya hesitating a moment before nodding in agreement. "Besides, he keeps having to ask us to repeat the rules and it just gets confusing and bleeeeghhhh."

"Blegh," Swansea echoed flatly. Anya and Daisuke nodded in sync. The man rolled his eyes and moved to sit down, leaning his chin heavily against his fist. "Alright. Sure, whatever."

"Thank you!"

"You're the best, boss!"

"Mmmph."

—13 days until the Arrival—

"Heyyyyy… Captain?"

Curly blinked slowly from where he'd been blankly staring at the opposite wall, "Huh?" He raised his head, looking over to see Daisuke giving him a gentle, little frown.

"You okay…?"

He gave a half-smile, "No clue."

The younger bobbed his head, "Sorry, were you like thinking or, like I can bother you again later or—"

"Nah, I was just starin' at the wall."

Daisuke made a face, "Dude."

"Dude," Curly drawled in turn.

"…you wanna help me bake something?"

With a sigh, the blond dragged himself to his feet, "Sure. Got some ideas, yeah?"

"You know it, Captain!"

~

Curly couldn't help but snicker as Daisuke talked on while they set up their workspace, the guy was funny, that's for sure.

"—so then, then I said, 'Well I sure hope I used the right file otherwise we're all getting a surprise when we present this project guys,' and you would not believe which file I'd accidentally uploaded!"

"What file?" He chuckled, peeking at the recipe book. "Also you sure our butter's still good…?"

"No worries about the butter, Captain! I double checked with Swansea earlier." Daisuke walked over with a bowl, "So like, back to the story—"

"Uh-huh."

"—I might've kinda sorta, in my mostly asleep state, uploaded the entirety of the Bee movie to the class drive."

"You… you— WHAT!?" Curly laughed harshly, turning to look at the intern, "NO WAY."

Daisuke grinned, "Way."

"How in the hell!"

"I know right! Anyways, so then…"

—10 days until the Arrival—

"You ever think how Polle looks kinda more like a donkey than a horse?"

Anya glanced over from where she had been painting Swansea's nails a dark blue, "What?"

Curly was squinting at one of the dumb Pony Express-mandated posters scattered around, sprawled against the couch with Daisuke. Though while Curly was sorta awake (Anya swore the bags under his eyes were getting darker the closer they got to port), the younger of the two was fast asleep, head lulled against the back of the couch as he slept soundly.

"Polle's a fucking horse, Curly," Swansea grunted.

"Mmmm… but like. He looks weird."

Anya glanced between the two before giving a soft sigh, "I think that's the sleep-deprivation getting to you, Captain."

"Mmmmm. Maybe." Curly moved to lean more solidly against Daisuke, yawning into his fist, "Imma try'n'sleep… mhm…"

"About damn time to throw the towel in, kid," Swansea muttered.

"Shhhutup."

—7 days until the Arrival—

Anya stared at the board before herself, shifting in place, chewing on her lip. She'd never really been the best at chess but the way Daisuke was kicking her ass right now was getting embarrassing.

"I… I, um," She gestured widely with a wince, "Just… oh dear."

"Whats wrong~?"

She shot her friend a glare, the Cheshire grin on his face (or at least he was smiling as widely as he could without pulling at his stitches again) enough to get her to pout. "Nothing! Nothings wrong at all… just, uh—"

"Oh, neat!" A voice spoke up with a chuckle, making them both jump. Anya looked up to see Curly stood there with his head cocked to the side, eyes locked on the board. "I didn't know we had chess on board."

"I know! I found it in one of the closets," Daisuke chirped before he paused. He looked at Curly with a renewed interest, "Wait… do you play at all, Captain?"

"A little bit," the man hummed, moving to sit down so he wasn't just awkwardly stood there anymore. He leaned in, resting his face in his hand contently, eyes darting about every little piece on the board with curious speed, as though he were making mental calculations on the game.

"You want to play a few rounds after I beat Anya?"

Curly chuckled deep in his throat, eyes crinkling in an easy smile despite the bags shadowing them. "Sure."

Anya rolled her eyes, looking back to the board, "You mean after I beat you, you little shit?"

"Ha—!"

"—heyyyy! Rude!"

The woman finally made her move on the board, sticking her tongue out at Daisuke. "Your move now."

He had the nerve to blow a raspberry at her, the captain laughing softly at their antics.

—6 days until the Arrival—

"So…?" Curly looked eagerly from Swansea to the food him and Daisuke had been working on, "We do good, yeah?"

The mechanic grunted as he settled into his seat, looking over the plate with a raised brow, "What exactly am I looking at here?"

Daisuke leaned in to place the recipe book they'd been using onto the table, smiling nervously, "It's, uh, like an apple crumble!"

The mechanic hummed, glancing back at it, "I thought most fruits woulda gone bad by now?"

"We, uh, we found some canned apple slices in one of the deep freezers."

The intern nodded sharply towards the captain, "Yeah! We did, and then, uh, so we ate a few to make sure they were good, and yup! All good!"

Swansea gave a sigh, "If I get food poisoning, Imma strangle you knuckleheads, got it?"

"Yes, sir—"

"—okay, boss!"

The man grunted before moving to grab the provided fork.

Funnily enough, the damned thing didn't taste too bad, despite looking like an utter mess.

—5 days until the Arrival—

Anya yawned widely into her shoulder as she walked around Daisuke's sleeping form, the guy for once not curled up but rather stretched out like he'd just fallen out of a plane or something. She headed to the bathroom, groggily did as she needed to, and as she was about to stumble back to bed, she realized with a tired confusion that she couldn't hear Curly snoring.

She turned to look at his bedsheets, noting with a frown that it didn't even look touched, he swore he was going to head to sleep soon after her and Daisuke had turned in. Had he perhaps gone to sleep in his own room…?

With a sigh, the woman went out just to check, stealing a pair of Daisuke's dumb pink slippers on her way out the room. She shuffled on down to the crew quarters, squinting as she nudged the door open to Curly's room.

Trying to be quiet so she didn't accidentally wake him up if he was indeed sleeping in his own room again, she peered in. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust but she saw with a sinking feeling that the room was devoid of the man as well.

Surely not… surely he wouldn't. She backed up, closed the door, and began to move a bit quicker down the hallway. The closet was still closed, her fingers nervously making sure that it was still locked, though even then it wasn't like she could hear any voices.

She relaxed when she found the door locked, though she did flinch back when she heard a groggy voice muttering something before going quiet again. Anya turned and left, chewing on her lip, was he in the common room then…?

The woman dragged her hands down her face tiredly, feeling unnervingly more and more awake by the second. She was going to drag Curly to bed when she found that dummy—

She heard the sobbing before she found her friend. Tensing a moment before hurrying along.

He was, indeed, in the common room as expected, curled up infront of the couch with his hands buried in his hair and face tucked away against his knees. Anya crept forward, fidgeting with her bed shirt as she moved towards him, painfully harsh sobs shaking the man's whole body.

Curly didn't even notice her as she carefully sat down next to him, hesitating a moment before speaking up softly. "Curly…?"

He jerked up with a choked sound, eyes wide and bloodshot as his eyes darted towards her, the man scrambling to put distance between them before freezing in place. His chest rose and fell sharply, tears making his face shine under the light casted by the faux night sky of the room's screen display.

The blond wheezed out a breath, desperately moving to wipe at his face with his good hand, "S-s-sorry— fu—ck, sorry, so—so… f-fuck… sorry, s-ss—"

"Hey, hey," She raised her hands and his mouth clamped shut as he cringed away. Anya frowned at the reaction, "It's okay… I, uh, I just wanted to check on you…"

Curly's eyes stayed locked onto her, the wide, scared look haunting in a way she couldn't quite describe. As though he were seeing her, past her, and through her all at the same time.

"What, what happened?"

He gave a broken smile, it looked pained and half-delirious, "I—I, heh, I— I don't know." His hands went back up to bury against his hair, the blond rocking himself as the sobs began to come back with a vengeance.

Anya gave a sympathetic wince, "Have… have you slept at all?"

The man just barely shook his head as he hiccuped and cried. The woman gave a sigh, settling in as she figured to let him get the more intense of the emotions out of his system. She just hoped he'd be willing to talk to her about what had caused this episode or at least what preceded it.

~

When Curly finally managed to wear himself out, he went deathly silent. For a minute or so, they sat there in utter silence with just the ship's ambiance to fill in the dead space.

Anya hesitated to breach the moment, but breaking the tension felt better than letting it build. "Curly, what was that about?"

The man sniffled, glancing at her with an empty stare. "I…" His eye trailed away to the ground, his voice sounding much more put together than what you'd expect from someone who'd just clearly had a breakdown, "I'm sorry."

"You really—"

"I see that dead pixel now."

Her words caught in her throat, the woman blinking sharply, "You… you what?"

He surely hadn't just— "The dead pixel," he mumbled, pointing up at the screen's righthand corner. "I see it."

"You, uh," Anya looked at the man, utterly baffled, "I didn't think anyone else noticed it…?"

Curly looked at her now, brow furrowing as he mouthed her words back to himself, straightening slightly. "You… what? Y-You, heh, you pointed it out to me," he gave a disbelieving laugh, mouth pulling into more of grimace than a grin.

She… didn't remember that? She was fairly certain her and Curly had never talked about that? "I don't understand," she said cautiously.

"The— the dead pixel," he said sharply, breathing hitching, "I, I— we talked about it, r-right here!" He turned, shakily gesturing to the couch, "I… I was right there and, and you… you were…"

He froze. His breathing grew faster. His expression cracked into something horrified.

"Curly?"

He flinched hard, looking at her as though he'd seen a ghost, face paling.

"You're, uh, you're scaring me a bit here," she admitted, moving to hesitantly place a hand on the man's arm. He shuddered under the contact, though he didn't move a muscle. "We never talked about that."

Fresh tears sprang to his eyes, "I know."

"How, how did you…?" How did you see it?

"I, I must've h-heard someone… someone else, uh, talk a-a-about it…" His voice was beginning to tremble, trailing into something so peculiar and vulnerable.

"That's not really how you knew, is it?" She didn't know how the hell he'd known, but she had to figure this out now. Something had shaken Curly badly and she had a feeling she was finally going to learn what it was.

"No," he whispered hoarsely. Another great shudder went through him as he clutched his good hand to his mouth.

"Will, uh, will you tell me then…? I just want to understand, Curly."

He hide his face again, "You'll, you'll t'ink Imma bloody'amned nutjob."

"Whatever it is, whether it makes sense or not, it's real and impactful to you," Anya assured. "And if it's hurting you this badly, I just want to ease some of that pain, that's what friends do, right?"

He didn't look up, didn't say a word.

Anya tried again, "You've helped talk me out of anxiety attacks and sleepless nights, you've helped Daisuke with his projects and you've been there to listen to his stories, you and Swansea manage to keep this place together day in and day out, and you've let us help you with your self esteem and confidence, right?"

He hesitated before nodding slowly.

The woman smiled, "Well, I'm offering my help here now, we're friends and we're here to support each other through the bad and good, right?"

Curly took in a shuddering breath before letting it out slowly, "It's… it's c-crazy. Stupid and— and, and, I… I don't want to scare anyone."

"You're scaring me by isolating yourself like this," she sighed. It made him flinch. "Just, just you keep saying you'll tell one of us the whole story about what happened, but you just keep… quiet. You haven't been sleeping as much and you've started eating less, it hasn't gotten to the extremes it was, but it's still concerning."

"…I— I w-will only ask y-you don't say a word while I, I tell you… yeah?"

She nodded, giving him an assuring smile as he glanced up at her, "I swear."

He hummed softly before looking upwards to that screen once more. Anya didn't have to follow his gaze to know what he was looking at. "Do… do you believe in miracles?"

Anya dipped her head with a faint hum.

"I think, I think I was given a miracle… At least, I-I hope it's one?" He took a shuddering breath in, "Sometimes I get, so I get in my own head. Badly. Overthinking, wishing, daydreaming, it feels easy. But then I can't fuckin' figure what's real and what's not, it scares me. But what if… what if what's fake was real? What if my reality is the falsehood? What i-if everything I worked for, what if it's for nothin'?"

He glanced to her, giving a shaky laugh, "That— that's crazy, right!? I… I should know better, I think, I…"

"You're not crazy," she whispered.

He looked away, playing with his hair, "I feel like it. I've been through this before. This trip. This life. It didn't end like this though."

Anya furrowed her brow, glancing to the man, he didn't meet her gaze. "A second chance, I think that's what this is… a last chance to make things right, but, heh, I messed it up again, I always do."

"I know so much now, so much that I shouldn't know, and it hurts. I feel too much, I always have, but now? Sometimes I can feel myself slipping into nothing but a burnt corpse." His eyes widened as he spoke, gaze far away now. "I didn't get to die. But I saw the aftermath of everyone else's deaths."

She shifted uncomfortably, brow furrowing further. Anya wanted to press him with questions, but she'd made a promise. She kept quiet, even as his words began to make something anxious settle deep in her being.

"I think I went back in time before it really hit the fan." He gave a lazy, flat smile. "I knew what he was going to do. I didn't prevent it the first time." Anya shuddered, fiddling with her shirt. "It's not like I acted when that you told me, I was too… blind. Scared and desperate for things to be alright. Then I was back, and heh, I thought maybe, maybe I could do better. Then I saw him and, and I was nothing. I'm not a brave man, that was stupid to ever think."

He frowned, "I even humored just killing him a couple times, be rid of him, but seriously? What then? We have a dead body on board? What would happen after that? I'd be a fuckin' murderer. Pathetic, truly… but you know another thing? That damned email hadn't even been sent when I told yall about it… I checked. I checked and rechecked, I keep saying things I shouldn't know, I keep messing the fuck up."

Curly leaned his head back, "It couldn't have been real, it shouldn't have been real… but everything keeps pointing to the fact that somehow, by something's will, I was sent back to face my inaction. I still don't know though whether I'll wake up eventually and realize this was just another fucked dream I'm having on that fuckin' table. I feel real though… I don't know."

He raised his hand to his face, dragging it down, "I'm losing it, Anya. I've fuckin' lost my bloody mind."

Anya gently rested a hand on his shoulder, watching as Curly shivered at the contact. "I… that sounds like a lot."

He snorted, looking at her through half-lidded eyes, "That's not even the half of it. But I know how it sounds… I can prove it."

"Yeah?"

He shifted in place, letting her hand slide off his shoulder as he moved to lean an elbow on his knees, gazing off into the distance. "I don't think this you has ever told me about why you didn't get through med school, yeah?"

"I… it's a bit of a sore spot," she admitted, eyeing him.

"Eight times." He muttered, "And most of the time? You couldn't afford to continue with the classes, scholarships were lost, your mum got sick and you were the only one around to take care of her, conflicts with what work you'd managed to get, etc. Etc. Always something out of your control, you told me back then how it felt like the world was against you. Though I can't help but feel like it was never the world that was, just the stupid roll of chance and the damn fact society punishes the wary."

Sure it was… it was common knowledge that she'd failed medical school on the ship, but the— the rest of that? She. She had never told him any of that. She never told anyone about all that. Anya swallowed thickly, clearing her throat, "I-I… how did—"

"It's easy to tell someone half-dead about your troubles. Swansea would bitch about the ship or talk about his family, Daisuke would wonder about his parents, and Jimmy… mmm. We crashed in that lifetime, I tried to fix it, and I got burned because of it."

He made a little hand motion before dipping his hand sharply into the floor with a little mock explosion noise. "Auto-pilot was turned off by my good ole pal Jimbo. I got our path adjusted just enough that we survived… yeesh the foam was so thick though."

"Honestly, I'm surprised the Tulpar made it… but oh it ain't pleasant getting trapped in that foam. Heh, all my limbs had to be amputated just to get me out of there. Though, maybe some were just too burnt to be salvaged, I could never exactly ask with a charred throat." He laughed, it was an empty sound. "I… you know that's why… that's why admittedly I can't walk sometimes, I— heh, I genuinely forget how to. Sometimes I'm back there and I just… I think I lived months like that, and— and you know, you all voted after the crash whether to just put me out of my misery… he always said it was 3 to 1. I think Jimmy rigged the vote though."

"Curly…" His eyes were getting a glassy look to them.

"I wished that I'd die. I wished so fuckin' hard that I could just die. I even tried to roll off that damned table a couple times on purpose so I would bash my skull in and finally fucking die… it never worked. Jimmy always got pissed after those little outbursts. He made sure it hurt. It hurt. Everything hurt—"

"Curly."

He sniffled harshly, stirring with a harsh shake of his head, eyes blinking. "I… sorry. Sorry…" He leaned his head against his good hand, cringing, "Fuck. I'm crazy, I have to be crazy—"

"It was real enough to you," she whispered. Her heart was pounding in her ears, he shouldn't have know about any of what he'd said about her. What he'd just said was further cause for alarm. "I'm… that, that just—"

"Words failing you? Welcome to my world," he gave a wry smile, looking back up at that dead pixel.

"What… what happened to, to everyone?" She whispered, even as everything logical inside her knew something like what the man was talking about should have been impossible. Even then… it connected so many of those damned dots.

"Dead, like I said." He mumbled, counting on his fingers, "Overdose. Mercy-kill. Murdered. Then Jimmy took the cheap way out after he got rid of Swansea." The man let his hand raise to his head, forming a barrel with two fingers as he lined it up to his skull, clicking his tongue as his hand jerked up. "Bang."

Anya stared. She opened her mouth, closed it again, and when she could speak, all she could manage was, "Do… do you want a hug?"

Curly nodded quietly, the tears beginning to come back as his empty expression fell into one of sheer grief. She didn't hesitate to drag him into one, feeling how he trembled as he buried his face into her shoulder, the sobbing coming back full force.

Anya just stayed with him, rubbing a hand against her back as she reeled from this information, from this possibility. Her eyes trailed up to that dead pixel and she felt a lump form in her throat.

—4 days until the Arrival—

Curly woke up feeling more rested than he ever had in his life, lighter in a sense. He grumbled in the back of his throat, noting how it seemed he'd laid out on the couch at some point. The captain groggily moved to sit up, hissing as his shoulder ached. He let himself flop back down, looking over with a sigh.

He was just going to wait there until someone else was moving around when he caught something out the corner of his eye.

The blond looked over, tilting his head when he saw a glass of water, a note, and two pills sat on a napkin waiting for him on the near table. He shuffled back so he could be somewhat upright and reached over, reading over the note first.

'You fell asleep after our talk, here's some pills to help with your shoulder— A'

Talk? What talk? He squinted before sighing and popping the pills into his mouth, swallowing them down with some water. The man leaned back, staring at the ceiling as he tried to recall last night.

His eyes drifted over to the faux sunrise on that screen, tracing towards where that dead pixel… wait. His eyes widened. Dead pixel.

It came flooding back and he clutched tightly to his chest as he realized in building horror what his sleep-clouded mind had done last night. No one was supposed to ever fucking know about all that— hell, he was certain Jimmy didn't even know what the hell he'd rambled at him in that fucking storage closet! But— he had, oh shit.

Curly looked back to the note, he'd told Anya. Christ Almighty, he'd told Anya about everything. No, no— nononono— FUCK—!

"Captain?" He flinched, looking over sharply as the note crumbled in his tightening grasp. Speak of the devil. "Hey… how are you feeling?"

There were bags under her eyes, hair unbrushed, more so, she hadn't even changed out of the pj's she'd been in, still stood in that Three Days Grace shirt and those soft, pastel-pink fuzzy pants. She knew. Christ, she knew.

"I, I told you about… about everything." The man managed.

She frowned, glancing off to the side. Her brow furrowed and she looked back to him with a sigh, "How are you feeling?"

He shook his head quietly, words fumbling from him, "P-Please, please— y-you can't— no one was supposed to know! I, I can't, it, it was my burden to bare."

They'd send him off to a fucking asylum! He was supposed to be better, fuck, fuck— she thought he was goddamned crazy! Curly made a choked sound, freezing when a hand ruffled through his hair, getting him to look at Anya.

"Hey."

He gave a shuddering breath.

"I believe you."

He jerked away as though burned. "Y-You… you…?"

Anya sat down, taking a shaky breath in, "I hope you don't mind… but I looked at the transmissions from corporation."

Curly eyed her, the blond speaking cautiously, "You… you did?"

"I checked the send date, when it was received, I looked it over several times. The email was exactly what you said, and— and it hadn't even been sent when you told us." She grimaced, "Besides… I have never told anyone the real reason I didn't make it through med-school. The fact you even knew about my mother… just. Just holy shit. And, and you just… kept that to yourself?"

The blond avoided her gaze, rolling his shoulder as that numbing sensation began to trail through it. "Mmm. Daisuke woulda been terrified and Swansea would never admit to believing me, even with all the evidence I could provide. They'd both be so fucking terrified, I mean… how do you just keep on going after that? After hearing how, how you died in some damned… paradox?"

"I… I won't tell them, not the specifics anyway. Though I think they'll be happy knowing you told someone about what happened, even if… even if they might think something else happened."

Curly let out a sigh, rubbing at his knuckles. Anya gave him a gentle pat on the arm, "You, you want to help me with that crepe recipe?"

The man looked to the woman with a broken smile, desperate for something else to do. "That'd be great."

~

The crepes weren't perfect, but they tasted good enough to him. Curly watching as everyone enjoyed their breakfast, eyes trailing from one person to the next, pausing as he met Anya's gaze.

Around a mouthful of food, she offered him a closed mouth smile. He returned it after a moment's hesitance, looking back down at his own plate.

She knew… and yet. Yet he didn't think he was so afraid of that fact now.

He just. Was glad they were both alive.

—3 days until the Arrival—

Anya leaned back quietly as she let her eyes wander over the passage she'd been trying to read, though her mind couldn't quite focus on the words.

The woman sighed out a breath, setting it down as she glanced over the side of her bed where Daisuke and Curly were laid out on the floor, playing a game of chess. The captain was admittedly much better at the game than she was and had even bet Daisuke several times. She was admittedly pretty curious what other random stuff he knew, though knowing what she now knew about the man, she… wasn't sure if she'd ever fully know him.

But then again— she watched as the blond put Daisuke into checkmate, grinning toothily as he kicked his feet like a school-girl talking about her crush— she didn't know if anyone could truly understand someone completely like that in the first place.

There was so much more to the people around her, it was curious and strange and just a bit frightening. And yet, moments like these where everyone was just existing and safe? She figured that might as well be home.

Besides, it seemed that talk had eased off much of Curly's building paranoia. Even if she admittedly had a few more worries and uncertainties in her head, she wasn't going to let him go through that alone.

—2 days until the Arrival—

Curly had proposed the idea to Swansea, nervous and quiet and just a bit too convinced he'd shoot the idea down for some reason. However, as he'd been learning more and more these days, his paranoid thoughts were entirely wrong.

"I completely forgot about that damned birthday party crap," the mechanic grunted, standing up from where he'd been checking on one of the vents. "You sure Daisuke hasn't eaten all the damned sweetener, yet?"

The captain snorted, "I may have hidden a couple packets for that sole reason."

"Well, woulda ya look at that, blondie apparently does use that brain of his."

Curly snorted, failing to fight back an amused grin. "Sometimes."

"Ha!" Swansea clapped him on his good shoulder, pausing to also use the younger man to help stabilize himself as he shifted in place. "Now how in the hell you figure to get them two outta the way long enough to set things up?"

"I found the perfect game to take up their time."

~

"Wait, we've had monopoly this whole time!?" Daisuke held his hands against his head, mouth hanging agape. "Seriously! Why didn't you tell us!"

Curly rolled his eyes, handing the box over, "Hey, I was just looking through old shit and happened upon it, now ya want it or what?"

"Dude, yes???" The intern turned around sharply, "Holy shit I gotta find Anya, now!"

"She's in the medbay," Curly said with a smirk. The younger barely waited a second, giving him a big old thumbs ups before running off.

Perfect.

~

Anya was going to lose her mind with this stupid, fucking game, gazing at the board and then at her little game piece (she'd picked the dog) and then at all the places that Daisuke had managed to collect. If she landed on an odd number right now, it was over. She'd go completely bankrupt…

She swallowed thickly, picked up the die, and with a wince, she rolled it.

They both watched as it tumbled along, Anya even going as far to hold her breath—

A knock on the door made her look up and over, Daisuke jumping back and managing to knock the whole fucking thing off and onto the ground. She stared, her friend stared back, and then she gave a heavy sigh. "Welp… I guess it's a tie?"

The younger sputtered as she got up to get the door, "What!? I totally was going to win that!"

"Nuh-uh."

"The fuck you mean nuh-uh!?"

She giggled under her breath, opening the door to see Curly stood there, bouncing on his feet with a wide grin. "Hey!"

Anya raised a brow, "Uh, hi? I have a feeling you have something to say…?"

"Okay!" The blond gestured for them to follow him, "So, uh, maybe me and Swansea have a surprise for yall two? So, yeah!"

Daisuke had risen to his feet by then, nudging Anya with a curious glance. The woman shrugged in confusion, looking back to their captain. "Okay?"

He beamed, "Alright cmon!"

The two didn't hesitate to follow.

~

Curly gave an excited smile as he waved Anya and Daisuke into the common room, watching the two's expressions closely as they paused to take in everything. While the streamers and 'Happy birthday' signs were a bit crooked and not the best, he was pretty damned proud of how many balloons he'd managed to blow up to place around the space.

Swansea spoke up, making them all look to him, "Happy birthday, you two."

Daisuke gave a happy-go-lucky smile, "It is no where close to my birthday!"

Anya quickly hid a snort behind a hand, though she did glance curiously at Curly, probably for an explanation. The blond smiled awkwardly, scuffing a foot against the floor, "Well, yeah. But, so, uh, since some of these trips take so long, usually around a year, they give us the supplies to throw a birthday party, and uh, so like since me and Swansea have flown together, we've had parties thrown for us, but you two ain't been around for one of those."

He made a face, "And since the company's…" He trailed off, waving a hand sharply, "Anyways— so we just decided to throw one party for the both of yall with what we had, me and Swansea even made a cake!"

"We have cake?" Daisuke was off like a shot towards the kitchen, the guy looking beyond excited.

"Hell yeah we do," Swansea grumbled, adjusting the stupid party hat on his head. "Now cmon, don't just stand there, let's have a party."

Curly laughed, "Cheers to that," he grabbed Anya's hand and dragged her over to the kitchen with a giddy pep in his step, "I haven't had cake in ages."

—1 day until the Arrival—

The crew's party lasted into the morning of the next day, Anya admittedly having a blast. They didn't really do much out of the ordinary, save for eat some cake and have one hell of a feast (since they'd be docking tomorrow, they'd be able to re-supply everything, so they could afford to eat to their hearts' content), but it had been some time since she'd been thrown a genuine birthday party.

It was just even more fun to share that feeling with someone she'd consider one of her closest friends ever. Daisuke was as energetic as energetic could get, and even if he managed to reopen his injury twice from how much he was talking and smiling, she didn't even bother to scold him about it.

It was the best birthday she'd ever had. The crew didn't even bother doing anything the 'next' day, just existing together.

Everyone safe and sound and content.