Chapter Text
It had been a few days since the impostor had died.
The silence of the ship was too deafening for Red, the captain. A constant reminder that, even though they had tried, it was their fault that the majority of them had died.
Red stood silent in the captain's cabin, just looking at the pitch-black sky where they were. Stars, asteroids, planets, the infinity beyond their capacities. They moved slowly, almost not at all, but Red could watch them all day and all night.
Void filled his soul. Emptiness that shattered your soul like thin glass. A deep ache inside his heart. A hand reaching to grab something, only to be met with air.
He felt guilty for not doing enough. Not enough to protect his crew members.
They had died, and the heavy loss was on his shoulders.
Red could still remember their voices in his head, could still imagine them walking around the ship. The laughter, the incidents, and the fights they would have with each other. And they felt so miserable, so powerless.
Red would stay in his cabin for a long amount of times, forgetting to eat, to take care of himself.
Alone.
That was the word. That's what he really was.
All alone. Because if he stepped out, it would be a reminder of what their inability of good leadership did to them.
To himself
To all of them.
To Purple.
Especially to Purple.
Red would clutch their fists in their hair, pulling them forcefully. But not a word said, not a whimper, he suffered in silence. In silence because Red knew that Purple wouldn’t even want to be near him.
Why would they care about him anyway? They were exes; he had hired her out of the never-ending guilt that followed him behind like a shadow. Their being here was her constant reminder of their past.
The way they worked together. Back when they were unpaid interns, just like the dead crewmates were on the ship. They were constantly together, after all, their personalities matched perfectly. How Purple’s eyes were constantly smiling, shining with enthusiasm. How they worked so well together, almost perfectly. Both of them hoped for a better future.
Red, at one point, even believed that maybe, just maybe, they could spend more time together, explore more together, and have even more stories to share.
That maybe, just maybe, this feeling deep inside his heart was mutual.
But then, just like always, everything came crashing down.
And the more Red remembered about their past, the more their throat burned. Sweating like a fountain, their heart was about to burst out of their chest, leaving a hole so deep nothing could fill it.
Red, at least, was glad that Purple hadn’t died.
That's what really mattered to him.
Them.
Alive.
Yet they were all alone.
Because he knew that the Purple they once knew wasn’t there. Red knew that the enthusiastic Purple had died the day that Central exploded. The trust that Purple had in them had been gone for a long while, all because they couldn’t see further than himself and his footsteps.
He did all of this to themselves. And he knew that Purple would never forgive.
Yet, a part within Red never let that faint fire die totally. Hopes keep a man moving, after all.
But the other part of them knew that what he did was enough to be left alone to rot. And it was totally justifiable.
Red had hurt Purple.
If they had died, he would’ve been better off dead.
What's worth living if the one you keep hoping for isn’t there?
Silence.
No one would reply to Red anyway.
He was alone in his captain’s office. Only surrounded by the many buttons.
Even her footsteps couldn’t be heard from outside, even though Purple constantly moved around.
Because Purple was standing at the door, silently, watching him being drowned in his own thoughts. Head tilted a bit, but not too much, afraid of her hat falling off her head. Red hadn’t noticed her standing there.
She had seen everything. And deep in their heart, she felt bad for him.
But Purple, even if she wanted to, would never forgive him for what Red had done in the past. How both of them worked together, lived together as unpaid interns, only for him to betray her like that.
Red became a bootlicker just for this position.
Purple had to suffer the consequences.
She barely lived paycheck to paycheck because the company they worked for made sure that she suffered for speaking out.
A puppet on a string that the owner had thrown away. Nothing more than rotting flesh.
MIRA made Purple suffer.
He was a walking reminder of this. Of their suffering.
Purple grid their teeth as they moved away from the door. Feet dragging on the floor slowly. As if something was stopping them from moving.
The daunting presence of guilt.
Beneath the fading light of the watchful night.
And only when the doors closed shut, did Red turn their head quickly behind.
Yet did not peep a word out.
Today was going to be a long day. Like the previous one, and the one before it, and so on and on.
--------
Purple groaned as they watched the never-ending amount of wires that needed rearranging. So confusing, they wrinkled their nose bridge. The more they looked at them, the angrier Purple would become.
What a joke!
But it was a job that needed to be done, for the sake of the ship.
For the sake of them making it out alive.
“How the hell did Lime do this daily?!” They whispered faintly, as if someone was in the room, as if it was a thought in their mind more than anything. It took forever, so forever it seemed like infinity was coming to an end.
Then she exhaled loudly, feeling freed from this task, fixing the last wire that needed the match, before closing the door.
“How did I do this back then?” Purple wondered as they walked back to the Security. Slowly, feet dragging on the floor. “It's so… infuriating.”
The ship was too quiet for what Purple was used to, as they missed the never-ending words that other crewmates would say. Occasional fights, yells, laughs, everything, anything would be a blessing now.
Just one more word.
One more fight.
One more laugh.
Because none of them knew that it would be their last.
Ever.
The door to Security slid open fast
“What the?!” Purple yelled out loud, shocked.
Yet Red didn’t really turn around to face them, and Purple simply watched them not move, frozen still like a statue. Their movements were stiff, and no emotions showed. Like the person in front of them was a different person, and not Red.
The Red that they knew.
They tilted their head, confused at this act.
What was up with the captain?
Respect your fellow crewmates, at least.
Respect me!
Me!
Only after a brief moment of silence did Red turn around to see them standing still at the door.
“Sorry…” he laughed, more to cover up the misery behind their voice. “I didn’t quite hear ‘ya.”
Purple knew better than not to believe them spilling out that lie. How didn’t he hear them yell out loud?
But Purple chose to believe that lie.
And cut straight to the following question.
“What are you doing in here?” They spilled that question out as if they were interrogating him, furrowing their eyebrows. Which made sense, they were the head of security on the ship.
Whom had failed to do their job, just like them.
Red tilted his head, just looking at them for a moment.
And for a split second, the image of the old Purple flashed in front of their eyes. But the captain shook their head fast. It wasn’t the right time.
Not the time to long for their past. Nor to remember what could’ve become if they hadn’t betrayed them.
“Can’t the good ol’ captain check on the crewmates?”
It was true, but the reason why Red had particularly come into the office was to just peek at Purple, just look at them.
Because even though Red knew that Purple wouldn’t even want to be near them, they still couldn’t get over these feelings.
Red couldn’t stop thinking about it.
It’s overflowing more than the captain could ever hold.
Suffocating presence of unreachable love.
Purple walked slowly towards them.
Red felt like he couldn’t breathe properly. Like oxygen got ripped out of their lungs.
“You’ve been staying inside your cabin like you were hibernating,” and stopped dead in their tracks, slamming a foot to the ground to grab their attention. Yet they watched how unbothered he looked.
Oblivious to what was going on inside of him.
The never-ending cycle of their misery.
Such a melody to deaf ears.
“Why did you come out now?”
Red looked into Purple’s eyes and got up on their feet, not breaking eye contact. And held the head of the chair tight, gripping it forcefully.
Why? The captain himself didn’t know why they did so. Maybe it was because he had to lie. Maybe because he needed to tell the truth.
Yet they knew that the outcome would still be the same.
Rejection.
But they chose to tell the truth. Because buried feelings will always get dug out of their graves. Corpses of what had remained.
The undead truth of their longing.
“I wanted to see you.”
That hit Purple harder than they had calculated. Because it was honest.
No laughs, no irony, no jokes, it was true. Because the way he spoke to them was so. So out of their character. That sarcastic side of them was thrown away for the moment.
Purple breathed in.
And for a split moment, her guard was let down.
Purple didn’t know why they were so protective of themselves. Why were they so cold towards the captain now? Why couldn’t they let their guard down so easily?
What effect did the captain have on them?
On one side, they were the source of their misery. How the company they worked together under threw her ot the sides to rot. How they threw everything to just land a position that he hoped for and got. But on the other side, they too, were the reason the security guard still had a job.
They didn’t know what to do.
To hate? To forgive?
To long for what could’ve been?
Both of them were hard truths.
Truths that slashed through nonsense.
The security guard was taken aback by these words, they didn’t know what to say. So they simply watched as the captain reached towards them and stood a few centimetres apart. As if they were stunned by what came out of their mouths, too.
Both of them were frozen, like time had stopped ticking.
They looked deep into each other's eyes, trying to find reason.
Find answers to their unspoken questions.
Because there was no need for words when they knew what the other hid.
Purple snapped out of it when Red reached for their hand.
They gasped, not expecting that at all, and it made the other twitch for a second, yet they gripped their hand tightly.
Because if the captain loosened it, they might go away.
So the security guard just looked into the other’s eyes, trying to find a reason.
Why?
Why was Red acting like this so suddenly?
Yet the captain didn’t do anything else besides holding Purple’s hand.
Yet as Purple’s eyes drifted into their hand, Red pulled her into a hug, his head resting on their shoulder, simply feeling her presence. Breathing slowly into them.
Because that's what loneliness does to you.
It craves attention that you can’t reach.
It makes you bleed from longing so much.
Carving the heart of their problem into such deep depths.
And Red only hugged them tighter.
As if they would disappear if he let them go. Vanish into thin air, the obscurity of their existence.
He would rather die than watch them go through life without them.
And it made the captain spiral even more.
“W-what are you-” Was all that Purple said before the other interrupted them.
“I missed you.”
It felt like it came out of their heart.
That shut them up quickly. Purple was too stunned to speak. Because what could they possibly say to that?
They kept looking at the captain’s hat, and felt how their breathing quickened.
“I’ve missed… everything…”
Red’s voice came out broken. Taking quick breaths because they felt like they couldn’t breathe properly.
As on the verge of tears. About to be broken apart because there were cracks already. Yet they kept talking.
“The past… what we were...”
Red kept imagining how both of them learned new stuff together, reliving the same moment over and over again in their head. But it only served as a painful reminder that he was the one who destroyed what could have happened.
And it hurt.
A painful reminder of what he had done to both of them.
“What I destroyed with my own selfish hands.”
Red only hugged Purple tighter.
They wanted to make things right again. Fix what was broken. Rebuild what got destroyed.
They were so hopeful in their efforts that they chuckled at their own words. Laughed at their pathetic attempt. But maybe because there was a bit of hope. Anything to get them going.
Yet, Purple stood silently, their arms wrapped around them. They could’ve sworn that they felt something.
But what was it?
Regret?
Hate?
Hope?
To say that they, too, were broken apart would be an understatement.
Purple too had their fair share of being hopeless for the future. How things had turned out. Because at the end of the day, you can’t control what is bound to happen.
She had changed a lot since they had blacklisted them from ever working again. Their trust had been shattered. The hope they had had faded a long time ago.
All because she decided to speak their mind and not do as they wanted them to act.
They paid the price heavily.
And Red constantly reminded them of this.
To both of them
“And I know that you will never forgive me for what I did.”
He suddenly breathed loudly, like oxygen was being deprived from their lungs. Red was trying to keep his composure cool, trying not to break down right there.
Yet, the pressure felt too much; it became miserable.
He felt like an abandoned child.
“But I want to make things right.”
Purple kept looking at them with this look that screamed confusion. What were they trying to do?
Red then broke the hug, as he fixed their uniform, cleaning the side of the shoulder where they rest their head, and then the dark-purple collar that they were wearing. Purple could feel the hesitation in their movements, like they were afraid of breaking something.
Break what, though?
What they had was already broken. Yet Purple let them do so. Because they wanted to see where all of this was really going.
Red tilted their head, watching how confused Purple really was. Yet couldn’t help himself to grab their hand again, sandwiching it between their hands.
That got a reaction out of them, as her eyebrows raised, a shocked expression painted in their face, a light shade of pink in their cheeks.
“I'm sorry, Purps… for what I did.”
Purple themselves didn’t know what to do, what to say, nor how to act.
They stood frozen in place.
“You’re…” Their words got stuck in their throat as they watched their hand get squeezed. “Actually sorry? Like… genuinely sorry?”
Red let out a scoff, more like a relief that they didn’t yell at them. Deep inside, he was glad that they didn’t do so. It left room to hope even more.
“It’s been eating me from the inside out!” They spoke louder than they had intended.
“What took you so long to spill that out?!” Purple furrowed their eyebrows.
Red clenched their jaw, not knowing how to answer that.
I have done so much for the both of us. More than you know.
Why can’t you see? Why are you so blind?
But before he could spill any word out, Purple interrupted them.
“Don’t even speak, I already know it.” They waved it off like it meant nothing, pulling their hand away from theirs. “You’re going to say something along the lines of ‘I am the good ol’ captain, and I should not be this open to my crewmates,’ right?”
Purple snatched their hat from their head, holding it for a moment. Just looking at it. Not like Red was going to protest it, anyway.
“Well… you do know me.” They chuckled. “Can’t have the possibility of trauma dumping into my crewmates, right?”
Purple just looked at them, with an expression that said ‘seriously?’, an eyebrow raised.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Red massaged the back of their neck, feeling intimidated by that look.
“Like what?” Purple asked.
“Like you are about to murder me.”
“I was planning on doing that… eventually.” They put the hat on their head, and watched how the other smiled gently. “After we got off this damn ship.”
“Yeah… It’s going to take a while.” Red rests their hand on Purple’s shoulder. “And we are all alone… in the middle of nowhere.”
And Purple simply looked into their eyes. Seeing how their egocentric side of them crumble apart.
And grabbed their jaw.
“Are you scared of something, Redsie?”
The question was straightforward.
That nickname, that old nickname, sent butterflies in their stomach, heart beating faster. Because they always loved the way it sounded when it came out of their mouth.
The old nickname never really died. They both had carried on with this old tradition of theirs.
Red grasped their hand on their jaw and exhaled loudly in relief.
“I’m scared of the future, Purps. Of our future.”
The realisation hit them like a truck. All of this weird activity of theirs, this hesitation, the way they trapped themselves inside their cabin for so long.
And they looked at them with pity. Their gaze gentle.
“Don’t be.”
And pulled them closer in a kiss.
A feeling that lingered in the air.
So much desire in them.
This switch-up was fast; they didn’t really think this would happen. And the captain only acted in instinct, hugging them tight, close to them. And the other did too with their free arm.
They could feel their blood pumping inside their heart.
Could feel their heart beat burst out of their chest.
And for the first time, the loneliness inside the captain’s heart had vanished.
Because all they really wanted was them.