Summary; Y/n is already going crazy with one George in her life, so why did she agree to have two for some silly challenge?
Notes; This was originally something else but I decided that this would be much more fun.
Warnings; Foul language, Y/n actually pisses me off so much idk.
Word Count; 3,741
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You looked at George from across the Transfiguration classroom as you twirled your quill between your fingers. This has been a daily occurrence since your third year. Because of this—especially being two years into the matter—your friends were beginning to grow impatient. Who wouldn’t? Not saying something for that long is bound to irritate not only your friends but also you.
The worst part is this wasn’t even some little hallway crush. This was one of your best friends. You’ve hung out with him and Fred since you first became friends. Since you first met, in fact.
You’ve been to his house, met his other siblings, met his parents, everything. It was awful.
But gosh, you were such a fool for him. You don’t even know how long you’ve been so… so downright bad for him.
“Miss L/n. Would you care to tell us what is so important that you feel you need to miss the past 3 minutes of the lesson?” Professor McGonagall asked.
You sat up straight and cleared your throat, dipping your quill in your inkpot before responding, “No, professor. I just got, er… distracted.” You weren’t lying.
“Please do pay attention, Miss L/n.” McGonagall sighed before continuing her lecture.
You buried your face in your hands as your cheeks got increasingly warmer.
You pulled your hands away and glanced at George, only to be met with his eyes on you, a smile on his face. You turned just as quickly as you looked and put your quill to your parchment, writing down what was on the board.
‘Gods, this is going to be the death of me and my grades in this class.’ You groaned.
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You felt absolutely helpless at this point. Complaining about it to girls younger than you when a good amount of them haven’t even had a boyfriend yet. You were at a loss for what to do, and although you could have listened to the girls and simply "suck it up and tell him already," you obviously chose not to.
“Gods, I just– I don't know what to do anymore! I’m losing my mind! I’m officially losing my mind! And I can’t just tell him!” You groaned.
“You actually can tell him. You know that, right?”
“No, I mean it literally– I can’t tell him. I’m unable to bring myself to say something; when I try, I just freak out and say something stupid! ‘Oh, you know what, I’m actually late to class,’ when it’s a whole 10 minutes before the bell even rings! This is just how it’s going to be for the rest of my time here. Maybe I should just transfer to another school, maybe a muggle school. Or maybe I’ll have to go to America! Oh my god…” You flailed your arms about and paced around the shared room.
“How can you even tell them apart? They look exactly the same to me.” One girl says.
“How about I tell him for you?” Pansy said.
“No! No, please don’t!”
The three other girls in the room sighed simultaneously.
“Beggars can’t be choosers, love. You can’t complain if you’re not going to say anything. You do it to yourself.”
You sat down on your bed and groaned, “You guys are right… I need to say something. And soon…”
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It’d already been 3 days since you said that. And still, nothing. Not a single word had come out of your mouth when you were around him. In fact, you just started to avoid him even more.
It was eating you up, and it was awful. You don’t think you’ve ever felt this horrible before, and honestly, you wouldn’t even wish it upon the people you disliked the most.
“Y/n,” a voice was heard from behind you.
You turn around to be faced with something similar to what you always looked at, but it wasn’t quite that.
“Oh, hey, Fred.” You smile.
“I still don’t know how you can tell me and George apart. Even our mum can’t sometimes.” Fred says, leaning on the wall.
You shrug and do the same. “It’s hard to tell sometimes, but George has a little birthmark on his chin, whereas you don’t. That and how different you two act sometimes, even if you try to act the same. You may be fooling others, but you can’t fool me.” You winked.
Fred raised his brows and smiled. “Wow, I didn’t know you paid that much attention to me and my brother.”
You began to flush and looked at the ground to hide it.
“I don’t. You’re just easy to tell apart.”
“Really now? Well, what if I proposed a challenge to you?” Fred says, a mischievous grin on his face.
“What kind of ‘challenge’?” You ask, raising a brow and crossing your arms.
“What if, for one day, I act exactly like George and put in that small detail and see if you still can tell us apart? If you get it right, then I will give you a prize, and if you lose, then I will get my prize. You have to be right by the time the day ends at 7 o’clock tomorrow.” Fred explains.
You narrowed your eyes, thinking about it for a second.
“What kind of prize?” You ask.
“Can’t tell you that, now can I? It’d just ruin the fun for us.” Fred says with a wink, putting his hand out for you to shake.
You sigh and look at his hand for a moment before finally shaking it. “Okay.”
“Okay. I’ll see you in a bit, then. Bye, Y/n.” Fred says before waving goodbye and walking away.
Prize? What was the prize? What was going to be his prize? What was going to be your prize?
“Who was that? Did you finally talk to George?” Pansy asks excitedly.
“Huh? Oh, no. That was just Fred.”
Pansy frowns and groans before putting her head on the wall.
“Well, what did you two just shake on?”
“A challenge.”
“A challenge? What challenge?” She asks, getting off of the wall.
You shrug. “Just a challenge.”
Pansy hummed curiously with narrowed eyes.
Boy, was this about to be fun for Fred.
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That dreadful day had finally come. Last night felt like it went on for a good while, too. You were practically tossing and turning in your bed just thinking about what will happen if you lose.
You ate your cereal in silence, trying to prepare yourself. You had multiple classes with both of the twins, some of which were with only one of them. One of the worst parts about that was that you were partners with Fred in potions.
You knew that Fred and George would probably do something like switch classes. You knew that Fred and George would share everything with each other to take it even further to the next level.
You don’t know if you could take two Georges at the same time, though.
“Good morning, Y/n!” Two voices spoke simultaneously.
Oh god. It’s already starting.
You turn around to be met with one exact carbon copy of George and the real George.
Your mouth went dry as you looked up at them with your mouth agape. The worst part is, you could feel your face begin to go warm.
You knew it. One George was too much for you; two of them were just absolutely diabolical.
“Are you ready, or are you just going to stare at us?” One twin said.
“Uh…”
“She’s speechless! We did a good job, George!”
“That we did, George!”
“See you later, then.” Both twins said simultaneously.
“Don’t let your breakfast go soggy!” One called out before leaving with the other.
You just stared at the two as they walked away, your mouth still agape.
This was going to be really hard. They put a lot of work into this. An unnerving amount of work into it. Fred even has the mole and exactly where it is. God, you’re going to lose this, and you don’t even know the consequences.
“What on earth just happened?” Ginny said, sitting across from you.
“Uh, well… it looks like you no longer have Fred for today. Just two Georges.” You groan as you put your head in your hands.
“I don’t even know if that’s a good or a bad thing for me, but I bet you’re delighted.” Ginny smiled.
“I’m the opposite of delighted right now, Gin…” You say, your voice muffled.
“Don’t let your breakfast go soggy.” She says teasingly.
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You couldn’t help but look around anxiously in the halls as it was time to head to your classes.
This was genuinely making you anxious.
The two twins suddenly appeared in front of you, making you jump and clutch your books tight.
“Jesus! You two nearly scared me half to death!” You shout, punching both of them in the arm.
You felt it might just be easier if you think about them just being Fred. Instead of guessing which one was George, it would be easier guessing which one is Fred.
“We just wanted to walk to class with you.”
“Escort one George while the other George goes to his separate class.”
“Oh my god, you two are going to be the death of me. Come on, Fred, let’s just go to Potions so Snape doesn’t yell at you. I don’t want to be dragged into it again.” You sigh.
“Ah-uh-uh, that’s George to you.” One of them says.
“Fine, George.”
The two walked next to you and talked as you made your way down to Potions class. The presence made you slightly… uncomfortable. For some reason, twins had always freaked you out quite a bit. But now there are twins that act exactly the same with not a single thing different. Now that was just unnerving.
“So are you just going to stay silent the whole time?” One of them asks with a smile on their face.
“Only one of you is quieter than the other. I’m going to see if I can tell just by staying quiet because one of you hates it.” You say, still looking forward as you walked.
The two twins both looked at each other with wide eyes, appalled by how much you pay attention.
“Wow, you must really love us if you know that small detail.” One of them whispers into your ear with a grin.
“Whatever you want yourself to believe.” You didn’t dare turn around because if you did, you just know that they’d see the beet-red colour on your face starting to appear.
You finally made it to the entrance of the classroom and walked to your seat, both twins following behind.
“Bye, Y/n. Bye, George.”
“Right back at you, George.”
God this was already starting to get annoying. You don’t know if you’ll be able to take this for the rest of the day and it’s only just started. You weren’t even anxious anymore; you were just… annoyed.
“So, what are we doing today, again?” One of the twins said, sitting next to you.
“Neither of us pays attention in this class, Fred.” You sigh as you place your books down.
“Exactly. And remember, it’s George now.” He grinned.
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“I don’t think I can take this anymore, Ginny! I just can’t take it!” You shout, slamming your hands on the table, the loud noise making the others around you jump.
“I honestly didn’t think you would make it this far without losing your mind. My brothers are menaces alone, but I think two Georges is better than two Freds.” Ginny says before taking a bite of her lunch.
You sigh and lay your head down on Hermione’s shoulder.
“Why did I agree to this?” You whine.
“You could always just… guess?” Harry said with a shrug.
You lifted your head from Hermione’s shoulder and looked at Harry annoyingly.
“Because if I do that, then there’s a chance I will lose, and I don’t want to know what will happen if I lose. So no, I can’t just guess.” You hiss. “I’ve only got 6 more hours left and nothing. I guess I really don’t know them.”
“Don’t worry. My mum has known them since they were born, and sometimes she doesn’t even know which is Fred and which is George.” Ron assured.
“Wow, that makes me feel so much better. Thank you, Ron.” You say with sarcasm obvious in your voice.
Ginny slaps Ron on the back of his head and gives him a look.
“What? I was only trying to help.” Ron says, rubbing his head.
“Well you’re not very good at it.” Ginny said.
You scoff and roll your eyes before continuing with your lunch.
Everyone else talked amongst themselves as you thought even more. What about the way that they stand? They stand differently, right? No... no, they don’t. What about the way that they smile? No, their smile is eerily the same, even in the way their eyes crinkle.
Damn! You’re never going to get this.
“Hello, Y/n!” Two hands appear on your shoulder as you’re met with two very familiar faces.
“Gosh, would you stop doing that! You two are scaring the daylights out of me!” You say as you get up and push the two away.
“Oh come on, have some fun in your life.” One twin says. “So, do you have your guess yet?”
You groan and turn back around. “No…”
“Shame. I thought you knew us better than that.” One of them shakes their head disappointingly.
Suddenly, an idea popped up in your head.
“Hey, Fred? What did you say was going to happen if I didn’t guess in time again?” You ask.
“Fred gets his prize.” Both twins speak at the same time.
You roll your eyes and groan.
“Dammit…”
“We’re as cheeky as cheeky can get; it’ll take more than that to get us to break.” One says with a wink.
“Merlin, I hate you two.” You huff before walking away.
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You walk into the lunch room once more for a study hall, sitting across from Ron, Harry, and Hermionie as they studied (or more so, while Hermionie studied).
You don’t know what you’re going to do now, 2 more hours left before Fred gets his stupid prize, and you have to deal with it, all because you have no idea which is which.
That was at least until you overheard Ron.
“-it was one time when George was running away from mum because he didn’t want to take a bath. Tripped over the carpet eventually and slammed into the corner of the coffee table. He still has the scar on that lower part of his arm.” Ron explained while biting into an apple.
“You mean his forearm, you idiot?” Hermionie corrects.
Your head slowly perks up and your eyes light up. New evidence. This is what was going to help you, maybe Ron was your new favourite Weasley because he just got you a ticket out of Fred’s devious plan.
You get up from your seat and quickly leave, on your way to find the twins. You can hear one last “Uh oh…” from Ron as he watches you walk away.
“Hello, Y/n-” Luna greets, getting cut off by you.
“Sorry, Luna. Can’t talk right now. Twins.” You dismiss quickly and wave before speed walking away.
There was no chance that they copied this thing. No way. If it’s something that far back into their childhood, they’re not remembering it.
You barge into the Gryffindor common room, finding the two twins sitting across from each other chatting.
“Ah, finally come to give up- he- hey! C- cut that out!” One twin exclaims as you grab onto his arm and try to examine it.
Apparently it clicks in the other twin’s mind what you’re looking for just then because now the other is attempting to pull you off.
“Nngh, stop- I’m- I’m trying to see something, this isn’t fair!” You grunt.
“She’s trying to see the scar, George-” The twin pulling you shouts.
All three of you stiffen up, completely freezing as Fred realizes what he just did.
You grin, pushing Fred off of you and standing up before looking down at the two twins.
“Wow, I didn’t even have to do the work myself. Hmm, I think I’m ready to put my guess in.” You say cockily as you cross your arms.
“What?! That’s not fair!” George says.
“Well then I guess you should’ve thought about maybe covering up the scar or replicating it. So can I guess now?”
The two redheads look at each other and sigh, a look of defeat on their faces, exactly the same.
“Alright, fine.” Fred’s head hangs low as he shrugs.
“The one on the left is Fred, the one on the right is George.” You say, the smile remaining on your face.
The two’s faces of defeat slowly turn into a large Cheshire-like grin.
Oh no…
Your smile slowly fades as your stomach drops.
“Actually, I’m George, he’s Fred.” George says.
“You lost the bet, Y/n.” Fred teases.
“Wh- what? But- but you called him George-” You stammer.
“We tricked you. Instead of listening to me, you should’ve checked to see who’s arm really had the scar.” George stands and pulls his sleeve up, revealing a small, barely noticeable scar on his forearm. “See, love?”
You blush slightly at the silly pet name and scoff. “Okay, fine, whatever. So what? I lost your stupid game, what do you want now, Fred?”
You didn’t think Fred’s grin could grow any larger but somehow, it did.
Fred stands up next to you and whispers into your ear. Two words.
“A kiss.”
“I- wha- a what?” You say, dumbfounded.
“A real one, too. Not just on the cheek.”
“What! Nuh uh!” You shake your head and cross your arms.
“Remember, Y/n, you lost. You have to play by the rules.”
You glare at Fred and huff.
“Alright. Fine… Let’s get this over with then.”
“Oh, no. You’re looking at the wrong twin here.”
Just as if this day couldn’t get any worse. Of course he had to pull some sort of sick twist like this.
You frantically shake your head as you look at a confused George.
“What? What was your prize?” George asks, completely clueless to his brother’s antics.
“Show him, Y/n.” Fred says simply.
“Fred, how could you?” You say, feeling betrayed.
Fred raises his brow and shoves you towards George.
“So we both get a prize?” George asks.
“I’d say more so you than me.” Fred grins before turning to leave the common room. “I’m going to leave you two to be, now.”
At least he gave you privacy?
You stood in front of George silently, looking everywhere but at him as he studied you. George enjoyed the silence, he didn’t mind it as much as Fred, especially when it was with you.
“Something wrong?” George asks with a raised brow.
You look at George for a moment before looking away again, shaking your head silently.
Your breath hitched and you went stiff as George took his hand to pull your chin up so you could look at him, a cheeky grin plastered on his face, clearly amused.
“I- I’m so sorry for this, George.” You gulp.
“Sorry? For what-”
You quickly cut him off by pulling him down by his tie to your level and closing the gap between you. He let out a surprised yelp before you quickly muffled the noise.
You’d thought about this more than you would like to admit, more than you would ever admit. If his lips tasted like the exploding bonbons he often ate, if he smiled into the kiss, if he moaned into it?
And those daydreams soon became reality as you took in everything about this kiss.
The way he quickly went from shocked, to grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him, the way he smelt, and yes, his lips did taste of exploding bonbons just like you'd imagined.
You gasp as he cheekily nibbles your bottom lip, allowing his tongue entrance into your own mouth.
To say the least, it wasn't very long until you found yourself stumbling out of a storage closet, your shirt now untucked, face flushed and red marks all over your neck.
George looked down at you like a lovesick puppy, his hair a mess and his tie discarded somewhere in that closet, tinted lip gloss smeared on his mouth.
“Wow, that went a hell of a lot better than I thought it would.” Fred said with a wide grin on his face. “You look like you had fun.” He said, looking at George.
George grumbled and looked away, his face just as red as yours.
“Well, it looks like my work here is done. Can’t believe it took nearly five years.” Fred said as he walked away into the dorm area.
You furrow your eyebrows as you watch Fred walk away. “Five years?” You mutter to yourself.
George rubs the back of his neck and smiles sheepishly, now suddenly shy, an emotion you’ve never seen on him before in all of your years of knowing him.
“Yeah… uh, I’ve liked you since first year.” George chuckles nervously.
“S-since first year?” You say, your eyes going wide. He’s liked you for that long? "Well now I feel awful." You frowned.
"Why do you feel awful?"
"I dunno? I've only liked you since third year and now I feel bad."
"If anything I should be the one feeling bad. I've fancied you for this long and didn't say anything!"
"How about we agree that maybe both of us were a bit foolish for not saying anything?" You laugh.
"I'll agree with anything you say." George looks down at you with a charming smile on your face.
"You're a far smarter man than your brother."
"Believe me, I know, love." He says, placing a kiss to your head.
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Sorry I haven't posted in ages guys! School has totally been kicking my butt lately but I managed to finish this up on a whim, I hope you all enjoy it!!
if Brian were to genuinely smile (mission impossible cuz that’s a stoic king), i think he’d have a gap and dimples in his cheeks. the thought alone is sooo ommgggg i love my country boyyyyy
Yesss I totally agree 🥺
Brian doesn't smile. He just doesn't.
At least not when anyone else is around. Not when the world is watching him, expecting something from him, reading too much into the smallest shifts in his face. Out there, his expression stays locked, unreadable, like he’s decided a long time ago that giving anything away just isn’t worth it.
But with you… it’s different.
It’s subtle at first. So easy to miss that you almost doubt you saw it at all. The faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth, like he’s fighting something off. And then - there. Those dimples. Soft little indents in his cheeks that show up before the smile even fully forms, like they can’t help betraying him.
You notice every single time.
So you make it your mission. Saying something dumb on purpose. Nudging him. Sitting sideways in his lap and tilting your head up at him like, “C’mon, just one smile?” dragging the moment out until he exhales through his nose, already losing the battle.
His lips twitch. He tries to hold it back, he always tries.
He never wins.
And there they are again - those damn dimples, like a reward you’ve learned how to earn.
You don’t even think about it anymore. You just lean in and press your lips to them, one side, then the other, like it’s routine. Like it belongs to you. He groans immediately, turning his face away, one hand coming up to push at your shoulder.
“Stop.”
You don’t.
You follow him anyway, catching the curve of his cheek again, laughing against his skin while he tries, half-heartedly, to escape. There’s no real force behind it. There never is.
And then it slips out of him - a laugh.
Not just a breath or a huff, but something uncontrolled and almost warm.
And that’s when you see it.
That small gap in his teeth, the one he tries so hard to hide, like it’s something to be embarrassed about. Like it isn’t the softest, most disarming thing you’ve ever seen.
You love it.
You look for it constantly now. When he talks, when he forgets himself for a second. You lean in a little too close, eyes flicking to his mouth. Sometimes you just outright ask, “Open your mouth,” like you’re not even pretending anymore.
He immediately swats you away.
“Stop being annoying.”
You grin. Don’t listen, never do.
Because the truth is, you’ve noticed something he probably hasn’t.
The way he doesn’t actually stop you.
The way his reactions are slower now, softer.
The way that, every once in a while, he lets the smile stay just a second longer than he used to.
It’s February 22… is it too late to post a Valentine’s Day fic? Let me answer you: it’s NEVER too late. Mwahaha. Enjoyy🩷🌸💗🌺💘
Milkshakes & Mild Cardiac Arrests (Please Don’t Do That Again)
Patrick Stump x fem! Reader
summary: Patrick is your best friend. He surprises you (strictly, totally, absolutely platonically… probably) on Valentine’s Day.
warnings: Emotional incompetence. One shared brain cell. Slow processing speed. YEAH. This is intentional.
Type of fic: fluff. slice of life. Friends to lovers. slow burn🔥
It was just another day. Valentine’s Day didn’t really mean much when there wasn’t anyone “special” waiting around for you. Just red balloons, discount chocolate, and couples walking a little too close together like the sidewalk might swallow them if they left space.
And there you were, sprawled across your bed with absolutely no intention of going anywhere. Mindlessly flipping through channels like the remote might magically produce something better than the same recycled rom-coms — the kind of stories you were pretty sure were never going to happen to you anyway.After a sigh — one you tried to pass off as boredom — you turned the TV off.
You rolled out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen to make coffee.
Right as the water started to heat up, a few soft knocks echoed at the front door.
Three in a row. A pause. Two more.
You knew that rhythm.
You dragged your feet to the door, already frowning.
“Patrick?”
The smile on the other side formed before you’d even finished saying his name.
Sure enough, there he was.
Standing on your doorstep in his crooked trucker cap, denim jacket, and a scarf that was aggressively too big for him.
His expression was trying to be casual but failing miserably.
Standing too straight. Lips pressed thin. And with one hand suspiciously tucked behind his back.
“Hey!” he said, way too fast.
“What are you doing here?” you asked, already smiling.
“I, uh— was just in the neighborhood,” he started, which was a lie and you both knew it. “And I was thinkin’— just maybe... y’know… you wanted to hate this whole corporate Hallmark nightmare with me?”
He shrugged, one hand hovering mid-air like he hadn’t planned that far ahead.
Your eyes drifted slowly to the other one — still tucked behind his back.
His gaze followed yours.
Something in his expression broke for a second, like he’d been caught red-handed.
“Oh—” he huffed a small, crooked smile and brought his hand forward. “For you. I mean— I had to bring something, right?”
You spotted the gerbera between his fingers.
Not soft pink. Bright. Almost fuchsia.
Slightly crooked, like the flower itself had shown up nervous.
You took it without really knowing what to say. The whole thing felt like a surprise you hadn’t rehearsed for.
“Wow,” you laughed softly, holding it against your chest without thinking. “Is this like… an anti-romance flower or something?”
“Definitely,” he said a little louder than intended, lifting a hand toward you like you’d just fully grasped the concept.
You let out a small laugh and stepped aside so he could finally come in.
“My best friend giving me a flower on Valentine’s Day is kinda tragic, don’t you think?” you said lightly, already filling a glass with water to put it in. “Good thing I’m into tragic. Thanks, Trick.”
“It’s nothing,” he shrugged, then immediately contradicted himself. “Well— actually— my mom helped me pick it. She said that one specifically felt… like you.”
You turned back to him, smiling, the flower still in your hands.
“Oh yeah? Well… tell your mom thanks for me.”
Patrick nodded way too fast.
“Yeah. She’s gonna be thrilled her strategy worked.”
You frowned, amused. “Strategy?”
He blanked for a full second. “No— no,” he laughed nervously. “I mean— nothing. She just… has very strong flower opinions. Like. Aggressively strong.”
You laughed again, eyes still on the gerbera as you brushed your thumb gently over the petals, appreciating it more than you were ready to admit.“
“Well,” you said, softer now, “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen your mom just talking with her plants. I like her”
“They answer her,” he replied matter-of-factly.
You burst out laughing instantly and Patrick watched you. The look on his face was pure defeat—the good kind—as if seeing you laugh was the only thing he’d actually come here for.
“Okay, botanist,” you teased, finally looking up at him. “You planning on standing there all day? Sit. I was making coffee.”
He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck.
“Yeah, uh— actually… I was kinda thinkin’…” He shifted his weight. “Do you wanna go out? Not— not like go out go out. Just— there’s this diner nearby. We could grab a milkshake or something. Low-key. y'know. I dunno.”
You stepped a little closer, narrowing your eyes just to watch him unravel. “A milkshake,” you repeated slowly.
He was already turning red.
“That’s not very anti-romantic of you.”
“It’s not romantic!” he shot back immediately. “I mean— why would it be? It’s just us. Like always.”
“Uh-huh, like always.”
He ran a hand through his hair, visibly uncomfortable.
“Yeah. I mean. We go there all the time.”
You smiled, giving him a playful nudge with your elbow. “Take it easy, Romeo. I’m just messin’ with you. Let’s go get that milkshake.”
Patrick smiled too, like those words had loosened a knot in his chest.
You walked over to the coat rack to find your jacket.
You felt his stare before you saw it.
When you did, he was still there, watching you as if he could almost put a thought into words.
“What?” you asked.
He didn't answer right away.
He let his eyes wander over you—quick, but not quick enough—.
“Oh, Nothing. Just…” He adjusted his glasses, buying time. “You look…”
The silence stretched out.
“Ready,” he finished, way too fast. And then he immediately added: “I mean— are you ready?”
You smirked. “Born ready, Stump. Just fair warning: if I see more than two couples making out, you’re buying me a donut stuffed with that shake.”
He stared at you, incredulous. “Only two? That’s— that’s not fair. It’s Valentine’s Day.”
You shrugged. “And I’m generous.”
Before he could start negotiating terms and conditions, you grabbed your keys off the table and gently pushed him toward the door.
“C’mon, Romeo.”
“Don’t call me that,” he whined, though he was already walking out.
You laughed at the tone. You loved getting under his skin.
And maybe — just maybe — you did it a little more than necessary, just to watch him lose composure for half a second.
Before he could protest again, you placed both hands on his shoulders from behind.
“Walk, Stumpie,” you murmured, leaning forward just enough to let a little of your weight fall against him.
He tensed at first — barely a second— then let out a resigned sigh.
“You are absolutely abusing your power.”
You laughed near his ear, close enough that he could feel your breath. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
Then, like nothing had happened, you slipped back to his side and started walking.
The air was cold enough that every exhale turned into small white clouds drifting between you before fading away.
It was almost impossible to ignore how aggressively Valentine’s Day was taking over the streets, with all those hearts taped to shop windows, signs with ridiculously cheesy quotes, and a few balloons fighting the wind, tied to the streetlights.
“Look. Couple,” you said, nudging him lightly just to mess with him.
“That doesn’t count,” he protested. “They’re just holding hands.”
“Hand-holding couples are the worst. Trust me. It counts.”
He just shook his head, chuckling.
You kept walking, shoulders nearly brushing.
Patrick took a hand out of his pocket, letting it hang between you as if it were casual. Like he wasn't measuring every single inch.
Your fingers were right there. Close. Your hands almost brushed.
At that exact second, a gust of icy wind made you shiver.
“God, it’s freezing,” you muttered, rubbing your arms.
Automatically, you shoved your hands into your pockets.
Patrick’s fingers closed around empty air.He stayed like that for half a second.
“Hey— c’mere,” he said quietly, resting his hand against your forearm with careful hesitation.
“What—?” But before you could finish, he was already pulling off his scarf. “Patrick, no. You get cold so easily. I’m fine—”
“Don’t be stubborn. You’re such a whiner, y’know that? Always got somethin’ to complain about.”
He stepped closer. Too close. He wrapped the scarf around your neck in quick, slightly clumsy motions. His fingers brushed your cheek as he adjusted it.
The warmth was still there.
“There,” he said, stepping back like it was no big deal. “See? Now you can keep being a brat, but at least you won't freeze to death... dumbass.”
You looked at him for a second. Then you smiled— just a little.
Without saying anything, you stepped closer and looped your arm through his, leaning into him like it had always been that way.
Patrick went rigid. “What are you doing?”
“We’re even,” you said lightly. “You gave me your scarf. I’m giving you moral support.”
“That’s not even how that works,” he stammered, his cheeks tinting red. “You’re just usin’ me as a space heater, I know your game.”
“Look— that’s two!” you cut in, subtly pointing toward the corner where a couple was making out with a level of enthusiasm that felt illegal in daylight.
Patrick turned his head and immediately regretted it.
“Jesus…” he muttered, snapping his gaze away dramatically. His face somehow redder than before. “Yeah. That definitely counts.”
He made a genuinely horrified face.
You burst out laughing and, without really noticing, held onto his arm a little tighter.
“Are you twelve?”
“No!— I just… I dunno, it’s gross.” He gestured vaguely. “There was way too much tongue involved. Like, we’re on a public sidewalk, y’know?”
You kept laughing at his outrage as you walked, never breaking contact.
Patrick muttered something about “public displays requiring boundaries,” and you cut him off with teasing commentary about how secretly old-fashioned he was.
You reached the diner before you even realized it.He opened the door and let you go in first. The bell chimed softly behind you.
The air inside was warm and sweet — coffee, sugar, syrup — layered over the low hum of dishes clinking and people talking.
He closed the door carefully and glanced at you for a brief second before nodding toward an empty booth.
You slid into one side. He took the other, across from you.
Patrick immediately grabbed the menu —a ritual at this point— even though he always ended up ordering the same thing.
While you waited, your fingers absentmindedly played with the fringe of his scarf still wrapped around your neck.
“You gonna pretend you’re considering something different?” you asked, resting your chin on your hand.
“I’m exploring options,” he said without looking up.
“You’ve been exploring the same options for three years.”
He looked up, offended. “Yeah, whatever. Maybe I’m feelin’ reckless today. You don’t know.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Watch out, we got a badass over here. What’s next, Stump? You gonna order a vanilla shake? Truly livin’ on the edge.”
He made a face, but he didn’t look back down at the menu.
He just... watched you. For a second longer than he probably meant to. You didn't even notice your fingers were still messing with the tassels of his scarf, twisting and untwisting the wool until you finally looked up.
Your eyes met, and the air between you just... shifted. It wasn't a joke anymore.
No more banter, no more teasing. Just that weird, heavy stillness where everything else in the diner—the clatter of plates, the music, the people—just faded out.
His expression softened, that guarded look of his completely slipping for once. He looked at you like he’d forgotten he was supposed to be "cool." Then, like he’d been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to, he looked away fast, clearing his throat.
Right on cue, the waitress appeared at the table.
Patrick jumped a little, looking at her like she’d just handed him a lifeline.
“You kids ready, or you need another minute?”
“Oh—Hi, yeah. Yeah, sure,” Patrick jumped in. “We’ll do two donuts. One raspberry-filled, one chocolate. And— uh— marshmallows.”
“Got it. Drinks?” she asked, already scribbling.
Patrick cleared his throat again. “Yeah, um…” He lifted the menu and pointed at something like he was double-checking, even though he wasn’t. “That one. Chocolate. Please.”
He didn’t look at you to confirm. He just stared at a spot on the table, waitin' for her to leave so he could finally breathe again.
The waitress gave you a quick glance, then looked at him, smiling knowingly. “Perfect. Be right out with that.”
The waitress disappeared toward the counter, leaving you two in a pocket of silence that felt a lot louder than the rest of the diner.
Patrick shot you a sideways look just as you narrowed your eyes at him. “What? No— don’t look at me like that,” he rushed out. “I didn’t order anything you don’t like, I swear. Do you wanna change it? We can—”
“No, no. I didn’t say anything, you dork,” you laughed, leaning both arms on the table. “Just... it’s cute that you know.”
A small smile tugged at his mouth, but he didn’t say anything. He just stared out the window for a second, then back at the table. But under the wood, his fingers were fidgeting like crazy.
And that’s when you really noticed it. He was visibly nervous.
His leg was bouncing under the table. Rhythmic. Uncontrollable.
“You good?” asked, leaning forward a little.
He looked at you. “Yeah— yeah,” he repeated, clearing his throat, trying to sound steadier than he felt. “Of course. Why?”
“Patrick. You’re shaking.”
“I’m not.”
You glanced down. His knee was still going.
“Really?” You stretched your foot forward under the table and gently pressed your sneaker against his, stopping the movement.
He froze instantly. The contact was small, but it was enough to make his breath hitch.
“Fine. Yeah… maybe. It’s just...”
“Here’s your order, kids,” the waitress chirped, sliding the tray onto the table with a knowing smile. She lingered for a second, looking from your amused face to Patrick, who looked like he was about to combust.
She set the plates down first. Then the milkshake, right between the two of you.
One large chocolate milkshake. A dramatic mountain of whipped cream. Two cherries.
And—Two straws.
“You better take it easy on him, honey,” she added, patting his arm lightly. “I haven't seen a boy turn that shade of red since my high school prom. Enjoy, you two.”
Patrick choked on his own breath. “Th—thanks,” he muttered, his voice cracking slightly as the waitress walked away with a chuckle.
He stared at the chocolate shake like he wanted to vanish into the air.
The silence was thick, but you just leaned your chin on your hand, watching him with a playful glint in your eyes.
“Oh my god, Patrick... that is actually wild. Did she really just say that? She’s literally acting like you’re fall for me or something. It’s hilarious.”
He didn't find it funny.
“Don't worry, Trick,” you teased, your voice low and light. “I'll try to be on my best behavior. I don't bite. Not today, anyway.”
Before he could answer, you plucked one of the cherries and popped it into your mouth.
Patrick finally looked at you. With that crooked half-smile he got when he was overwhelmed tugged at his lips.
“____,” he said quietly, a little dazed. “You don’t realize it, do you? I mean— you’re not laughing at me, right?”
The corners of your mouth dropped, caught off guard. You genuinely had no idea what he meant.
And maybe that was exactly what had undone him — that to him it was so obvious he could barely look at you without feeling like his entire nervous system had turned to jelly.
“What did I miss?” you leaned closer, gently lifting a hand to his chin. “Did you mess up your hair again?”
“What? N—no, it’s not the hair, ____.”
“Then what exactly would I be laughing at?”
Patrick looked at you.
“At me?” he said finally, barely above a whisper. “At… all this.” He gestured to the table. Then vaguely between the two of you. “It’s Valentine’s Day. I gave you a sad little flower—”
“Hey!” you cut in. “I liked the flower. It’s beautiful.”
He closed his eyes for a second like that might actually finish him off.
“That’s not the point,” he muttered, shaking his head lightly. “Please. Just— let me finish before I lose whatever tiny bit of courage I’ve got left. Which isn't much. Honestly.”
You mimed zipping your lips shut. He gave you the smallest smile.
“I’ve been… planning this for weeks. I backed out three times. I bought you chocolate and then ate it because I thought it was stupid.” He shrugged. “This. And I mean all of it…” He took a breath. “It’s supposed to be a date.”
He looked at you then — waiting.
“Wait— ” you breathed, your heart giving a sudden, erratic thump. “The lady was actually right?”
He held your gaze. And instead of getting annoyed… a small laugh escaped him. Incredulous. Affectionate.
He shook his head. “You’re just…” he sighed, like he couldn't fight it anymore, “incredibly oblivious.”
There wasn't any edge to it. He just sounded amazed. Frustrated, yeah—but totally surrendered.
You froze, your thoughts scrambling backward through the day until it hit you all at once. The flower. The scarf. None of it had been random.
“Maybe you’re right…” you huffed, your face burning. “But you’re part of this too, Stump! You’ve always been terrible at subtle—how was I supposed to figure it out?”
“Yeah, well… I’m not the best at this stuff. Probably.” he admitted, adjusting his glasses. “But you didn’t notice I’ve been trying to hold your hand for like… three weeks.”
“WHAT?!”
“Yeah,” he exhaled, resigned. “Multiple attempts. Very strategic. All failed.”
“So this is… a date?” you asked, still catching up.He made a vague gesture with his hands.
He gestured vaguely with his hands.
“It was supposed to be. Unless you hate that idea. Which is totally fine. I can pivot. I can pretend I forgot what day it is. We can call it National Milkshake Day or somethin’...”
That’s when it finally clicked. You started to smile. Very slowly.
“You really... invited me out on Valentine’s Day… as a confession?”
Patrick closed his eyes for a second before answering, like he was bracing for impact.
“Ye—Yeah.” The word sat between you — small, but enormous.
You studied him more closely.
“Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“Because... I was scared you’d laugh.”
“Excuse me?”
“Like actually laugh,” he clarified. “Like full-on ‘oh my God, Patrick, no’ laugh.”
“You’re such a dork. I’d never laugh at you!”
He looked personally offended.
“You laugh at me all the time!”
“Because you’re funny!”
“No, I’m serious.” His voice lost its shakiness and gained some ground. “Every time I try to say somethin’ sincere, you grin like I just tripped in public.”
You tried to keep it together. You really did. But the mental image was too much, and a short laugh escaped before you could stop it.
Patrick pointed at you instantly.
“See? This is exactly what I’m talkin’ about!”
“I’m not laughin’ at you!”
“You literally are!”
“It’s ‘cause you’re dramatic.”
“This is not dramatic,” he insisted, his brow furrowing just a bit. “This is emotional risk.”
That line made you soften your tone. It didn't sound like a joke anymore. It sounded vulnerable.
“Okay. Fine. Yes. I laugh,” you admitted.
“Thank you” he responded immediately, quieter this time.
You looked down for a second before meeting his eyes again. “I would never laugh at your feelings. I might laugh at you, sometimes. But never at that.”
Something shifted then. Almost imperceptible.
Patrick lifted his gaze slowly, like he didn’t want to scare the moment off, and when his eyes met yours this time, he didn’t look away.
His hand moved across the table — careful, awkward — sliding just close enough to yours. You looked at it.
It was barely extended toward you, like he didn’t quite dare cross the line. Like he was still ready to pull back if you even flinched.
You reached for it gently. His fingers were cold. A little tense at first. But when you wrapped yours around them, you felt them soften. Just slightly.
“This… isn’t pity, right?” he asked quietly.
You rolled your eyes without letting go. If anything, you laced your fingers through his more firmly.
“It's not, dumbass.”
He exhaled then — long and deep — like he’d been breathing on half-capacity since the conversation started.
You watched him for a couple seconds before smiling.
“You’re still shaking.”
His mouth twisted into a nervous half-smile that couldn’t decide whether to disappear or stay.
“I know.”
His cheeks were flushed; it wasn’t even that warm inside, but he looked like he might actually melt under your stare.
“You’re red.”
“I’m aware,” he muttered, still staring at your intertwined hands like he wasn’t entirely convinced they were real.
You leaned a little closer, just enough for him to notice you weren’t planning on letting go.
“You’re adorable.”
Patrick blinked. He swallowed, trying to hold it together, but he was completely undone.
“Don’t say that right now...” he said under his breath, almost pleading. “I’m tryin’ to be cool here.”
“You have never been cool. You cried watching The Notebook.”
His eyes widened in pure betrayal.
"Nunca dejarás eso ir, ¿verdad?"
You shook your head, letting out a soft laugh, not meant to be cruel.
“Its a good movie!” Patrick tried to hold onto his indignation. It lasted three seconds. “You’re impossible…”
You looked at him with nothing but tenderness.
“You love it.”
He met your gaze again, eyes bright — exposed in a way that made pretending pointless.
“Yeah... I do,” he admitted, still blushing. Then he hesitated, like he’d just stepped onto unfamiliar ground. “So… what now? I mean— what happens now?”
You shrugged lightly, nudging one of the straws with your free hand.
“Now, we drink the milkshake. Like a couple of lovebirds from the fifties.”
Patrick looked at the milkshake. Then at your intertwined hands. Then at you.
His brain was clearly about three seconds behind the moment.
“So… is that what we are now?” he asked, voice caught somewhere between hope and mild cardiac distress. “Are we… a couple?”
You looked at him, and the smile that formed this time wasn’t teasing.
It was soft. Almost proud.
“You wanna make it official?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.
“I— I mean— if you want to—”
“Oh, c’mon,” you murmured, leaning a little closer. “You wanna say it. I wanna hear it.”
The red in his cheeks went up another notch, if that was even physically possible.
His fingers squeezed yours.
“Do you… do you wanna be my girlfriend?”
You tilted your head thoughtfully, like you were reviewing a contract.
“Mmm. I don’t know…”
Patrick froze. “Don’t—” he warned quietly, narrowing his eyes because he absolutely knew you. “Don’t do that.”
“What? It’s a very important decision,” you continued solemnly, even though your fingers were still locked with his.
“You’re awful,” he said, but he didn’t let go of your hand. “I could actually die right now.”
You smiled. This time without holding anything back.
“Of course I do, dumbass.”
The relief was instant. Visible. Almost dramatic. His shoulders dropped. His lungs rebooted. A nervous laugh slipped out like he’d just survived something medically concerning.
“Do not ever do that again,” he muttered, still flushed.
You stayed there, staring at each other for a few seconds too long.
Patrick looked at the table. Then at you. “This table is kinda... ruining our moment,” he muttered, looking at the space between you two with a frustration that was almost funny.
You got up without a word. You walked around the table and slid into his side of the booth, forcing him to scramble over until his back hit the wall. Now there was no wood or menus in the way; it was just you, him, and the scent of coffee in the air.
“Hi—” he said, his voice cracking a little, a nervous laugh spilling out as he realized you’d been sitting right there, inches from him.
“Hey, you,” you replied with a small smile.
You leaned into him, sliding your hand around his neck.
The kiss was soft at first, almost shy. But once he realized you weren't pulling away, he kissed back—just barely—holding onto you like you were something fragile.
When you pulled apart, his cheeks were still burning red, but he was finally smiling.
“Oh… Happy— Valentine’s Day… I guess.”
You grinned, squeezing his cheeks and planting another quick kiss on one of them.
Summary; Y/n is a teacher placed next to Hank's class, and eventually when she finds out about Hank's feelings about her, she decides to do something about it in front of his entire class.
Notes; This came to me as I was sitting on the train listening to ABBA, and I just had to come out of hibernation to write it!!
Warnings; None at all! ^_^
Word Count; 1,248
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ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
You worked in the class next to none other than Hank “Beast” McCoy. You weren’t complaining. Sometimes when your own students were taking a quiz or a test, or when you were just blessed with a quiet class, you could hear his lessons from next door.
You had to admit, you did enjoy listening to them. The way he explained each thing carefully while stopping every now and then to ask if anyone had any questions. He loved teaching more than anything.
What you hadn’t known, though, was how much he loved you. The way he looked at you when you spoke about something you were interested in, the way that you laughed, smiled, walked; and even the way you had stood. He loved everything about you, from each crinkle in your face to every curve of your body.
But it was Hank. There was no way that he was going to say anything about it, let alone do anything. It was Hank; he was far too shy for that, even when he was in his forties.
“Miss L/n, I have a secret to tell you.” One of your students smiles at you as you look up from your desk.
“You or any other students are not in danger, yes?” You ask.
“No, of course not.”
“What you are going to tell me isn’t going to get you or others in trouble, is it?” You raise your brow.
“Depends on what you mean by trouble.” The student smirks.
You laugh and take off your glasses, placing them on your desk. “You know exactly what I mean by trouble, Lilly.”
“Okay, then no, Miss L/n.” Lilly assured.
“Come tell me after class then, yes?” You whisper.
Lilly nodded before going to sit back down at her desk, looking all too excited.
Other than the occasional whispering of the students, the classroom was quiet. And luckily for you, just as the previous times before, you were able to catch some of Hank’s lesson. From what you had caught, he had been teaching this class physics. During this period he had his youngest students, unlike you, but he had been speaking about how he had been wanting to introduce them to more difficult material due to their high intelligence that Hank had been boasting to the other teachers about.
--------------------------------------
“Okay, everybody, please read the pages marked on the board whenever you are free before my next class and not during it. See you all tomorrow.” You say, pointing at your blackboard.
Scattered “Yes, Miss L/n’s” and “You got it’s” were heard throughout the room as your students left for their other classes.
“Miss L/n?”
You turn to see Lilly, standing in front of you.
“Oh, right. The secret,” you smile, giving Lilly your full attention. “Please, do tell.”
Lilly looked around for a moment before going back to close and lock your classroom door.
“Okay, no one else knows about this; you are the only one I have told. But other students have been suspecting it, too,” Lilly says carefully.
“Alright, I’m honoured that I’m the one being told, but what do you mean by ‘suspecting’?” You ask.
“Well, I and some of my other classmates had been talking about Dr. McCoy,” Lilly smirks. “And we have all come to the agreement that he more than possibly… how shall I say? Loves you?”
Your mind goes blank for a brief moment, you only being pulled away from that blank mindset when a student knocks on your door.
“I, uh… please let the others in, Lilly. You should be off to your own class as well.” You dismiss Lilly, clearing your throat.
Lilly sighs before bidding you goodbye and leaving the classroom, letting the other students waiting for the door to be opened inside.
“Good morning, class. Please refer to the board for your assignment.”
--------------------------------------
You couldn’t stop thinking about what Lilly had just said to you only 10 minutes ago. Did he really love you, like she had told you? Or was this just another one of the children’s silly little pranks? No. Not even Lilly would mess with something as serious as love in any negative way.
Did you make his fur stand up? Did his heart pace quicken when around you? Did he ever think of you?
“Miss L/n!” one student shouts.
“Yes?” You say quickly, your voice cracking slightly.
“Can you tell us what to do after we finish?”
“Yes, yes. Just, uh, it's a free period; do whatever as long as you stay in the classroom and don’t cause any trouble.” You smile. “I’m going to go and do something in the next classroom. Please behave.”
‘Just get it over with.’ You think to yourself, taking a deep breath before stopping at Hank’s classroom door. By the sound of it, he was teaching geometry. You could listen to him for hours.
‘Is this really a good idea?’
Before you could even think twice about what you were about to do, it just happened.
You entered the classroom holding your breath, and right as Hank was in the middle of speaking, you grabbed him by his blazer, completely catching him off guard, and pulled him down, pressing your lips to his.
The students all gasped and shouted as the scene unfolded in front of them. When you pulled away, you were blessed with the sight of his cheeks turned a ferocious dark blue, glasses askew, and fur standing up. He had been so taken by surprise that he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at you.
You quickly clear your throat, feeling your own cheeks beginning to burn up themselves. “If you will excuse me, I have a class to continue to teach.” You leave the class and go into your own, closing the door behind you.
“Let’s play the quiet game and not ask any questions, and then everyone will get a free 100 today, yes?”
--------------------------------------
Bonus!
Hank stood in his place dumbfounded. Yes, he hadn’t been much of a talker already, but now he couldn’t even talk about the things he loved talking about.
“Beastie, Hank, Doctor? What just happened there?” Peter says, making a sudden appearance in Hank’s classroom. “For the first time in your class, I’m seeing you standing here speechless.”
“Miss L/n kissed him!” A student quickly answered.
“Wow, finally, big fella. Did you say something to her or what?”
“Get out, I’m teaching a class.” Hank growled at Peter.
“Okay, okay, jeez. I’ll just go bug her now.” Peter winked before rushing out of Hank’s classroom to yours.
Hank sighs before fixing his glasses and patting his fur down, trying to continue on with his lesson, but to no avail, as he had completely lost his train of thought.
“Free period for the rest of class. Our lesson will continue tomorrow. Please use this time to study for the upcoming test or catch up on any missing work you may have.”
The class cheered, teasing Hank and singing that silly song about sitting in a tree.
Summary: Nothing could have prepared you for the pain of losing your boyfriend on Sol 6. But you were even less prepared to find out that he didn't die. You left him there. Alone.
Character(s): Mark Watney, Beth Johanssen, Chris Beck, Melissa Lewis, Alex Vogel, Rick Martinez.
Warning(s): Descriptions of grief, Mentions of death, Cursing (lots of it), Mildly sexual themes (nothing explicit), Mentions of malnourishment.
A/N: I absolutely adore The Martian, but I've noticed a criminally low amount of fan content for it, so I decided to make some! I've decided to follow more closely to the book plot rather than the movie (Just because I like the dialogue more and it's more scientifically accurate). However, there will be a couple scenes from the movie sprinkled in just because I thought they were fun. I hope you enjoy!
It was the morning of Sol 6 and you were up early to make some coffee before your EVA mission. The past few days on Mars had been busy, but far more rewarding than you could have ever imagined. You were one of the geologists in the Ares 3 crew, along with Commander Lewis of course. Mars, to you, was a playground of science. A giant sphere of discovery you couldn't wait to explore.
Today's EVA was to gather samples from near the hab. You had seen plenty of rocks on the way in that you needed to overturn almost as much as you needed oxygen to breathe.
You sensed a hand on the small of your back and felt goosebumps trail up your spine. "Morning Y/L/N. Anything to report?" A playful voice proclaimed.
"Other than bland coffee and terrible sleep, nothing of interest~" You turned back and smiled at your boyfriend. He brushed his thumb over a patch of exposed skin on your lower back before pulling his hand away.
"Hey, at least you don't have to sleep under Martinez, bastard was tossing and turning all night." He smirked as he made his own cup. "I'm barely getting by, the only thing keeping me grounded is this bland ass coffee."
You snickered and rolled your eyes. "Poor baby," You teased.
You and Mark Watney had been together for almost three years, in secret of course. NASA isn't exactly fond of sending couples into space where they might throw caution to the wind and procreate in transit. You were professionals, this mission was something you both had been looking forward to since it was announced. But that wouldn't stop the Space Administration from removing you both from Ares 3.
Nobody knew you were together. Not NASA, not your families, not even the crew knew of your relationship. As far as anyone was concerned, you were just great friends (inseparable in fact). You went out for dinners, went on morning jogs together, spent late nights gaming and going over the mission handbook. Everyone knew you confided in one another and worked incredibly as a team. But nobody would have guessed that instead of playing Yahtzee together on your evenings off, Mark was slowly and deliciously making you breathless with his lips, melting you with his touch.
Once the mission actually started, it was much harder than anticipated to cut out the physical affection. There were cameras everywhere on the ship and absolutely no way to hide from them. The only place for privacy was the bathrooms, but you had a rather close call that involved Mark dragging you there under the guise of helping him with his laptop (which obviously earned an eyebrow raise from Johanssen,) only for him to kiss you with the desperation of a man dying of thirst. You were nearly caught by Beck and you both decided not to risk it again. Luckily, you and Watney were a couple of problem solvers.
Instead of kisses, you resorted to touching. A hand on the back, an arm on the shoulder, a nudge of the elbow. Casual touch became your replacement for intimacy.
Mark pulled a smug smile and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. "You know what Y/N, I am a poor baby. But I can think of something that would make me feel better..." He whispered close to your ear. You flushed and playfully shoved him back.
"In your dreams Watney." You scoffed but your hand lingered on his stomach, earning a cheeky grin from the botanist.
"How'd you know?" He laughed, glancing down at your lips briefly. You knew what he was thinking: that it had been awhile and maybe he could risk just a little peck. Mark was a reckless one, that's for sure.
"Guys, quit flirting so loudly. I was trying to get a few minutes extra sleep before Lewis pulls out the bugle," Beck strolled in and grabbed a ration packet.
"Flirting? With him?" You asked incredulously, jabbing your thumb toward Mark.
"And vice versa," Beck shrugged.
"You must be seeing things, maybe we should call a doctor?" Watney sassily took a sip of his drink.
"Hilarious," Beck replied. Chris had been fighting for you and Mark to get together for about as long as you've known him (which is a decent number of years, in case you were wondering.) Little did he know you had already jumped that fence. You felt bad for keeping it from him, but you were sure he'd understand given his thing with Johanssen.
"Oh good, you guys are already up." Lewis sighed "hey, can one of you wake up Martinez? He's not listening to a single word I say."
You gave Watney a sidelong glance. He groaned and downed the rest of his terrible space coffee. "Yeah sure, I can go get the bastard. I'll give him a piece of my mind while I'm at it." Mark stomped off to the bunks and Lewis followed him. You casually sat beside Beck, who gave you a knowing smile.
"You know Chris, it would probably happen on its own if you didn't push it so much." You mumbled against the rim of your cup in an attempt to hide a smile.
"It's obvious he likes you too. Practically written all over his face," Beck said. "Honestly though, you two don't even realize when you're flirting. It's kind of incredible."
You huffed, "Now's not the best time for all that, you know."
"I know, I know. Just, keep it on the table okay?"
"Whatever you say Dr. Beck," You snickered. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have an EVA to prep for."
Chris rolled his eyes and poked at the food on his plate, "you're excused."
~~~
"Alright team, stay in sight of each other. Let's make NASA proud today." Lewis announced.
"How's it looking over there Watney?" Martinez asked.
"Well, you'll be happy to hear that in grid section 14/28, the particles are predominantly coarse. But in 29 they're uh... much finer. That should be ideal for chem analysis."
"Oh wow! did everyone hear that? Mark just discovered dirt! Should we alert the media?" Martinez teased. Mark glanced up at you, but you couldn't see his face behind the helmet.
"Hey, you better watch it fly boy. I'm working this grid too!" You laughed.
"Sorry, what are you doing today Martinez? Making sure the MAV is still upright?" You could hear the smirk in Mark's voice.
"Well, I'd like you to know that visual inspection of the equipment is imperative to mission success," Rick preached. "I'd also like to report that the MAV is still upright."
You and Mark giggled as you worked on the grid. "Watney, you're keeping your channel open, which leads to Martinez responding, which leads to all of us listening, which leads to me being annoyed," Lewis scolded halfheartedly.
"Roger that, Martinez the captain would like you to please uh," Mark looked at you for approval and continued. "Shut your smart mouth."
Rick cackled and you playfully nudged Mark on the shoulder.
"We'd prefer you use a different adjective to describe Martinez's mouth." Beck said from inside the Hab, resulting in even more laughter from the rest of the crew.
"Did Beck just insult me?!"
"Dr. Beck and yes!"
"I'm happy to turn the radios off from here commander. Just say the word." Johanssen suggested.
"Johanssen, constant communication is the hallmark-" Watney started.
"Shut him off" Melissa gave the order.
"No-" Johanssen cut him off. Mark tossed his little hammer in the dirt and looked back at the captain like she had just kicked a kitten. You patted the shoulder of his suit and urged him to get back to work.
"I'm sorry for my countrymen, Vogel." Lewis said.
"Accepted," Vogel shrugged and glanced up at the sky. "The storm... It's closer than Houston reported."
"We've got time," Lewis said. "Focus on the task at hand. This EVA's all about chemical analysis. Vogel, you're the chemist so you're in charge of what we dig up."
"Ja, Please dig thirty centimeters and get soil samples. At least one hundred grams each. Very important is thirty centimeters down." Vogel clarified, eyes back on his work.
"Will do, stay within a hundred meters of the Hab," Lewis said.
You worked in peace and quiet for a few minutes. You measured the grid while Mark hammered the grid labels. You could hardly wait to take samples. Mark was right, it was perfect for chem analysis. Unfortunately, your work was short-lived because Johanssen had some bad news.
"Commander, you should come inside. You're gonna want to see this."
"What is it?" Lewis asked.
"Houston has upgraded the storm to 'severe.' It's going to be here in fifteen minutes." Johanssen said.
You perked your head up to get a look at the sky. Already it was getting darker.
"Martinez, how's it looking?" Asked commander Lewis.
"Not good." He said.
After a moment of contemplation, Lewis made her decision. "Back to base."
~~~
The Hab shook and the sound of wind and debris outside only exacerbated the tension within. Lewis commanded everyone to put on their flight suits and you congregated around the screen, wondering if this was the end of your mission.
"Sustained winds over one hundred kilometers per hour now. Gusting to one twenty-five," Johanssen frowned.
"Jesus, we're gonna end up in Oz," Watney said. "What's the abort speed?"
"One fifty kilometers per hour, anymore than that and the MAV's in danger of tipping." Martinez placed his hands on his hips.
"Any predictions on the storm track?" Lewis asked.
"This is the edge of it... It's gonna get worse before it gets better." Johanssen delivered the bad news with confidence. Silence fell over the group and you grabbed Mark's hand. You wished you could feel the warmth, but the gloves on the flight suit acted as a barrier. Watney met your sorrowful eyes. You'd have to end the mission before it even started. He let go of your hand and pressed you into his side. It was over. 25 sols early. You leaned your head against his shoulder and willed the grief to subside.
"Alright, prep for abort. We'll go to the MAV and hope for the best. If the wind gets too high, we launch." Lewis grabbed her helmet.
~~~
Outside the Hab, the wind was disastrous. Mark was nearly swept off his feet by the force of the gusts. He slammed into you, but you managed to keep him on his feet.
"Shit! Thanks." Watney regained his balance.
"Visibility is almost zero. If you get lost, hone in on my suit's telemetry! The wind's gonna be rougher away from the Hab, so be ready!" Lewis warned.
The Ares crew stumbled toward the MAV with ever increasing uncertainty. You had to lean into the wind to avoid being thrown backward. Mark wasn't doing much better. It didn't help that his mind wasn't on getting to the MAV safely, it was on how to keep it upright. Watney was smart, too smart for his own good.
"Hey," Watney panted. "Maybe we could shore up the MAV. Make tipping less likely."
"How?" Lewis Huffed.
"We could use cables from the solar farm as guylines. The rovers could be anchors. The trick would be getting the line around the-"
You choked on your scream as Mark was struck by a massive piece of wreckage, sending him off into the disorienting mist of dust and wind.
"MARK!" You screamed and tried to stumble after him, but you could barely see an inch in front of your helmet.
"What happened?" Lewis said.
"Something hit him!" Johanssen said shakily.
"Watney report..." Lewis said. You listened hard and prayed he'd answer. "Watney, report!" Nothing.
"He's offline, I don't know where he is." Johanssen reported as calmly as she could. You bit back a whimper as you shuffled forward.
"Commander, before we lost telemetry, his decompression alarm went off!" Beck said.
"Shit! Y/L/N, where did you last see him?" Lewis asked.
"H-he was right in front of me and then he was gone," you managed. "He flew off due west" You pointed.
"Okay, Martinez, get to the MAV and prep for launch. Everyone else, home in on Johanssen."
"Dr. Beck, how long can a person survive decompression?" Vogel asked.
"Less than a minute." Beck looked back at you. You could hear the pain in his voice. No. Mark couldn't be... He was just beside you a moment ago.
"Commander, the MAV's got a seven degree tilt. It'll tip at 12.3."
"Copy that."
He's alive, he can't be dead!
"Johanssen, Watney's bio-monitor sent something before going offline. My computer just says 'Bad Packet,'" Beck said.
"Give me a sec," Johanssen said.
"Commander, message from Houston. We're officially scrubbed. The storm's definitely too rough."
"Copy."
"Beck, I have the raw packet!" Johanssen said, "It's plaintext: BP 0, PR 0, TP 36.2. That's as far as I got."
Beck sighed and shook his head. "Blood pressure zero, pulse rate zero, temperature normal..."
Your chest tightened and your eyes burned. "Temperature normal?" You asked hopefully.
"It takes a while for the-" Beck swallowed. "It takes awhile to cool."
"Commander, tilting at 10.5 degrees now, with gusts pushing it to 11." Martinez reported.
"Copy, if it tips, launch."
"What about you commander?"
"I'm going to search a little more."
"You really think I'll leave you behind?" Martinez asked.
"I just ordered you to. You four, get to the ship." Lewis replied.
"Let me help search commander, we'll find him faster if we-" Lewis cut you off.
"That's an order, Y/L/N. Go."
Beck nudged you forward. You reluctantly allowed him to.
"Johanssen, would the rover IR camera do any good?"
"Negative. IR can't get through sand any better than visible light."
"What about the proximity radar? Could it detect Watney's suit?"
"No way. It's made to see Hermes, not the metal in a single space suit."
"Give it a try," Lewis ordered.
"Commander, I know you don't want to hear this... but Wat-... Mark's dead." Beck said.
No.
No.
Please...
Everything around you was a blur. You went through the motions from training. Strapping yourself in, readying your station, waiting for launch. You couldn't look at the empty seat beside you. You couldn't think about anything but your job right now, If you allowed your thoughts to that dark place, you'd have to be dragged along by the rest of the crew.
You couldn't do that to them. Not now.
Lewis returned to the ship and strapped herself in. "Still at pilot-release," Martinez said softly. "Ready for launch."
You swallowed the lump in your throat.
"I'm sorry Commander, you need to verbally-"
"Launch."
You felt the bone-crushing power of ascent. The g's did nothing but forcefully push the tears from your eyes.
You wish it would have been you.
~~~
Mark Watney closed out of the mission log application and stared at the computer screen for a few minutes. He couldn't fathom the hopelessness he was feeling, it was too deep to swim out of. What else was there to do but sit and wait to die? Maybe it would be easier to just go into the airlock and open the doors!
Watney turned his head to a picture of you on the wall behind the computer. It was there among other pictures of the crew and their families. You were standing with your brother in front of one of those rickety wooden roller coasters at Six Flags. He felt a painful twinge in his chest. You thought he was dead and there was no way to tell you otherwise.
He was completely alone, had the whole goddamned planet to himself. Mark rubbed his hands over his face. "Fuck..." he said. "Fuck!" he pulled at the hair on his head before looking up at the picture again. He wished he would have kissed you. He wanted to that morning when you were sharing coffee. He should have said he loved you. Mark hadn't said it in so long.
He knew you like the back of his hand. You were blaming yourself. Everyone in the crew was probably doing the same. He could barely stomach the thought.
Mark grabbed the picture from the wall and shuffled to the bunks. He was so tired and in a lot of pain from the stupid antenna. He was about to settle into his bed, when his eyes landed on yours. After a moment of deliberation, he hobbled into your bunk and pulled the covers up to his chin. It still smelled like you. He buried his face into your pillow and cried.
~~~
You sat in the dining area in the Hermes, watching as the windows slowly spun around. It had been about a week since the incident and you weren't sure you had any more tears left to cry. You did your best to keep on task during your waking hours, only allowing yourself to feel when everyone else was either asleep or taking the piloting shift.
Your fingers drummed lightly against the table, mingling with the beeps, boops, groans, and hums of the ship keeping you safe from the unforgiving vacuum of space. You thought about a lot of things. About Mark, his parents, the house he wanted so badly to buy, his favorite music, his plants growing in the botany lab... The one thing you didn't want to think about was his body, how it would be buried by sand and dust within the year, how Mars would never let it decay. You tried not to think about how if you had just reached for him, maybe he'd still be alive.
"Y/N?" A familiar German accent spoke. You tensed and dared a glance back at Vogel.
"Hey, what's up?" You plastered a grin on your face.
"I have noticed you've not been sleeping. You are... Okay?" He asked, lumbering closer. He was clearly very tired and you felt terrible he was here worrying about you instead of getting some much deserved rest.
"Yeah... Yeah I'm okay Alex, just... Can't sleep." You sighed.
"Have you spoken to doctor Beck? I am sure we have sleep medication on board."
"Oh I know... I just don't really want to bother him, you know? I mean, we're all going through it right now..." You shifted under his gaze.
"You are having bad dreams," Vogel stated. "You're afraid if you sleep, they will come back."
"How could you tell?" You peeked tiredly up at him.
"My little monkeys... before I left, some of them had bad dreams. A father can always tell." He sat down beside you at the table.
You felt your eyes burning again. You hadn't dared ask for comfort from your crew mates, not even Chris. Now that you were receiving it, you wished you had asked for it long ago. There was a hellish cocktail of emotions running through you: relief, sadness, safety, longing, despair. You were so relieved that Alex was here. You were sad to think about how deeply his loved ones must be missing him. You thought about what Alex said about his "little monkeys." Mark would have made a great father if he'd only had the chance.
"You love him. Very much," Vogel said.
"I did..." You whispered.
"You do." Alex grabbed your hand and the tears poured from your eyes. "You do..."
"I do," You let out a choked sob. Vogel pulled you into a gentle hug.
"This pain of loss we feel... It will never go away. But it will get easier to live with as time goes by. This, I promise is true."
"Thank you Alex." You whispered.
"You're welcome..." He patted your back and pulled away. "Now, shall we try some rest?"
"I'll try," you put on a brave face.
"And- what is it?-" He thought aloud. "When first you don't succeed-"
"Try try again," You said with a sad smile. "Words to live by."
~~~
LOG ENTRY: SOL 23
So, I'm still brain storming the whole, "Mark Watney can only really make his potato farm last 90 days," problem. Can't say It's going too well. I'm surrounded by the stench of my own shit. Kinda distracting.
I've made the executive decision to take a long overdue break out in the rover. Sure, logically I know I should probably utilize every spare second on planning my survival right down to the last drop of water, but riddle me this: just who is gonna stop me? Not NASA, that's for sure.
It's funny. I came into the rover to escape the rancid poop smell, but it seems to have followed me. Turns out, I was the poop smell all along! If Y/N were here, they would have forcibly shoved me into the shower. They'd say something like... "Don't even think about touching me until you smell like ocean breeze!" (What does ocean breeze even smell like? How do you smell a breeze?...)There are few things in life Y/N hates more than stink. Me being on Mars is probably one of them.
What I would give to see you right now. Even just a dream would be nice, but I guess that's asking too much.
I miss my parents a lot. Maybe that's an understatement. I haven't really let myself think about it, but sitting here in this cramped rover really has my mind wandering. I really should have told them about Y/N. Maybe if things don't work out for me, they could confide in each other.
I don't have much else to say. The calculations aren't done and quite frankly, I'm depressed.
I'll probably scrub this log from the system, It's kind of a downer.
~~~
You had been doing better. Getting at least 6 hours of sleep a day was an accomplishment and you were eating your meals, but a certain date on the calendar was growing closer. You made yourself busier and busier, but no amount of work would keep this day from coming.
LOG ENTRY: SOL 62
On Earth it's January 8th, which is a very special day. Our anniversary! It's official, we've been together for three years! Yeah, yeah I hear you. These logs are for work purposes only, but I promise no one's gonna see this one. Not even you.
I think about that day a lot. It was freezing outside and snowing everywhere. I don't even remember why we walked to the cafe that day, but I'm thankful for it. You were holding your hot cup so tightly and your coat wasn't nearly thick enough for the weather. You were complaining that the snow came early and I laughed at you.
I think we both knew for a long time that this would happen. A year at least. We kept ourselves just at arms length, on the brink of lovers without ever crossing that line. We never discussed it before, but we knew once the mission was over, we'd do it. We'd take that step.
I had wanted to kiss you all day. Want isn't really the word for it. How about craved. Desired? Yearned~
I wrapped my coat around you and you complained again, said that I'd catch a cold and it would all be your fault. The way you looked at me... Still gives me chills when I think about it. It's like I'm still standing on that sidewalk, snowflakes landing on my nose.
I told you, "I can think of something that'll warm us both up..."
You said, "Then what are you waiting for?"
I was right of course. I always am. I just didn't expect you to be so... magnetizing! Like damn babe, you had me weak in the knees! (What am I, a Disney princess?)
I'll be back with you someday. It'll be your anniversary present from me. You're welcome in advance. XOXO - World's Handsomest Boyfriend.
-P.S. You left your deodorant in the Hab. I've been using it. Totally not creepy.
-P.P.S. Who's the stinky one now?
-P.P.P.S. You better be prepared, when I get off this wasteland of a planet, I'm making up for lost time. You aren't gonna be able to walk for AT LEAST a week.
-P.P.P.P.S. I was talking about CUDDLING you perv~
(or was I? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))
~~~
This had to be one of the greatest days in Mark Watney's life.
Contact.
Sweet, sweet contact!
[11:18]JPL: Mark, This is Venkat Kapoor. We've been watching you since Sol 49. The whole world's been rooting for you. Amazing job, getting Pathfinder. We're working on rescue plans. JPL is adjusting Ares 4's MDV to do a short overland flight. They'll pick you up, then take you with them to Schiaparelli. We're putting together a supply mission to keep you fed until Ares 4 arrives.
Watney could hardly believe it! Everything was working! They had known he was alive since Sol 49! His eyes were brimming and his breathing came out in short gasps as he fought to control himself. He used to take messages for granted, now they're the only tether he has to humanity.
He's not alone anymore.
His hands shook as he wrote out his message.
[11:29]Watney: Glad to hear it. Really looking forward to not dying. I want to make it clear it wasn't the crew's fault. What did they say when they found out I was alive?
Mark shifted in his seat. The reply was taking a bit longer than expected. He hadn't talked to anyone in so long. The thought of being so close, only to fail right in the beginning was terrifying. He wasn't sure he could survive that kind of disappointment.
[11:48]JPL: We haven't told the crew you're alive yet. We wanted them to focus on their own mission.
What. The. Fuck.
Mark covered his face with his hands and released a frustrated groan. "You've got to be shitting me!"
You didn't know. You didn't know he was alive.
"What the fuck? Wha... What the fuck?!" He took a shaky breath and wrestled with his frustration.
[12:05]Watney: They don't know I'm alive? What the fuck? WTF? Seriously! What the fuck is wrong with you?
[12:23]JPL: Please watch your language. Everything you type is being broadcast live all over the entire world.
They did not just say that.
After everything he has been through, there is no way JPL just told him to watch his language.
So, that's how they want to play it, huh?
[12:42]Watney: Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck shit fuck shit fuck! Fuck fuckity fuckfuckfuck! Oh look! A pair of boobs!-> (.Y.) How's that for watching my language, you goddamned bureaucratic felchers!
NASA got the message loud and clear.
~~~
Four months passed and you fell into a routine. Wake up, eat, work, sleep, repeat. It was predictable, which was something you were thankful for.
You took on Watney's role as the ship's botanist. You weren't as good as him, but really, who was? You couldn't match his skill even if you tried. Still, you followed all of his experiments. Took diligent notes and snapped as many pictures as you could.
Martinez joked that you took better care of the plants than yourself. It was one of those jokes meant to expose an underlying issue: You weren't looking after yourself. There was a shadow hanging over everything you did. The crew was experiencing it too. Mark Watney was one of a kind. Everyone he touched felt his loss so viscerally, so deeply.
You needed time, just like Vogel said. But that didn't mean everyone had to be okay with you beating yourself up like this.
Lewis knew better than anyone how you were feeling. As the Commander, she should have tried a little harder. And you... You were right there in arm's reach. Yes, Lewis knew how you felt only too well.
You heard a faint Knock in the doorway. You looked up from the camera and met Beck's eyes.
"Data dump will be completed soon. Care to join?" He smiled.
You managed a smile back, "Yeah, sure. I'm hoping I got something from my siblings. Maybe my niece and nephew too." You strapped the camera to the wall so it wouldn't float away, then you pushed yourself toward your crewmate.
"How about your parents?" He asked.
"Oh, that's a given. I can't get them to leave me alone," you chuckled.
You floated down to Semicone-A, where everyone else was already waiting for the data dump.
"Is it here yet?" Beck asked.
"Almost, it's at ninety-eight percent." Johanssen shot him a grin.
"My son turned three yesterday." He beamed. Should be some pics of the party. How about you?"
"Oh, nothing special. Just some peer reviews of a paper I wrote a few years back."
"Complete," Johanssen said. "All the personal e-mails are dispatched to your laptops. Also there's a telemetry update for Vogel and a system update for me....Huh.... There's a voice message addressed to the whole crew."
"Play it." Lewis shrugged. Everyone gathered around the screen as Beth pressed play.
"Hermes, this is Mitch Henderson," the message started.
"Henderson? Talking directly to us without CAPCOM?"
Lewis raised her hand to signal silence.
"I have some news. There's no subtle way to put this:.....Mark Watney's still alive."
Your stomach dropped.
"Wha-" Beck choked.
"I know that's a surprise. And I know you'll have a lot of questions. We're going to answer those questions. But for now I'll just give you the basics. He's alive and healthy. We found out two months ago and decided not to tell you. I was strongly against all that. We're telling you now because we finally have communication with him and a viable rescue plan. It boils down to Ares 4 picking him up with a modified MDV. We'll get you a full write-up of what happened, but it's definitely not your fault. Mark stresses that every time it comes up."
You clenched your eyes shut as they burned painfully with tears.
"Take some time to absorb this. Your science schedules are cleared for tomorrow. Send all the questions you want and we'll answer them. Henderson out."
Silence fell over the bridge.
"He...He's alive?" Martinez beamed.
"He lives." Vogel nodded excitedly and squeezed your shoulder.
You covered your eyes with your hands, fighting to stay quiet.
"No, hey... we all left togeth-"
"You followed orders...I left him behind. In a barren, unreachable, godforsaken wasteland." Lewis scowled and trudged off the bridge.
Everyone stood around the console. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.
"Y/N?" Chris asked softly.
"Are you okay?" Beth added.
You shook your head. You couldn't look at any of them right now.
"I need a minute..." you said softly before hurrying back out of the Semicone. You retreated back to the comfort of the botany lab. It was all so much to process.
First Mark is dead, you left him behind to die. Then Mark is alive, you left him behind to die. He doesn't want you to blame yourselves, it was terrible luck. He's healthy. He can contact Earth. Mars is a desolate planet. He's all alone. On an entire planet. You left him there. He will never be safe until he's back on Earth soil. It will be four years until Ares 4 arrives.
He will be alone on Mars for four years.
You left him there.
~~~
Y/N,
I'm typing this letter to you because talking to you relaxes me. I won't actually be sending this to you. It's not going to be professional in nature like the other notes I've sent you. (JPL says that you have received all of them, but have neglected to send me any of your responses. The only one I have gotten from any of the crew was one from Lewis. She invited me for beer to make up for leaving me on Mars.)
Anyway, some bad stuff happened. I wish you were here. Not because I want you to have been launched by an airlock. Never that. I just really fucking miss you. I really need you right now. I almost died last night. I had to do some serious surgery on my suit to keep me alive and I had to sift through the dilapidated remnants of the Hab to find a new one.
I'm so tired. I just want you to hold me. I'm so sick of all of this. Fuck Mars, Fuck the Hab. I'm so sick and tired of getting my hopes up and being disappointed. I miss you so much. You make every one of my bad days good. I know if you were here, everything would be okay again.
Why did this have to happen?
Mars keeps throwing curve balls at me, but I'm not giving up. I've got a lot to look forward to and I'm trying to focus on that.
-Mark
P.S. Your bed stopped smelling like you a month ago.
~~~
The crew of Ares 3 met in the Rec. A secret message had arrived not even an hour ago. One that would alter their mission by 533 extra days.
"Are we going to do it?" Johanssen asked.
"I won't lie, I'd sure as hell like to. But this isn't a normal decision. This is something NASA expressly rejected. We're talking about mutiny. And that's not a word I throw around lightly," Lewis explained. "We'll only do it if we all agree. And before you answer, consider the consequences. If we mess up the supply rendezvous, we die. If we mess up the Earth gravity assist, we die. If we do everything correctly, we add 533 days to our mission. 533 days of unplanned space travel where anything could go wrong. Maintenance will be a hassle. Something might break that we can't fix. If it's life-critical, we die."
"Sign me up!" Martinez announced, causing you to smile. At least someone else was as enthusiastic to bring Mark home as you were.
"Easy, cowboy. You and I are military. There's a good chance we'd be court-martialed when we get home. As for the rest of you, I guarantee they'll never send you up again," Lewis said.
"If we do this," Vogel looked to you and back at Lewis. "It would mean over one thousand days of space. This is enough space for a life. I do not need to return."
You couldn't have possibly said it better yourself. It was like Alex was reading your mind.
"Sounds like Vogel's in. Me too obviously," Martinez laughed.
"Let's do it," Beck agreed.
"If you think it'll work, I trust you," Johanssen said.
Lewis nodded and turned to you. "Y/L/N?"
"You don't even need to ask me. Let's go get our boy," You smiled.
Wow. This is the first time you've smiled... a real smile, since leaving Mars.
'Hang in there babe,' You thought. 'I'm on my way.'
~~~
LOG ENTRY: SOL 192-2
Yep, another secret letter do my dear, long lost love~ How predictable. I don't really care, today's been a great day. I can't believe you're coming back for me! Here I was, thinking I'd have to survive without you for four years. Then there you go, riding in from the sunset to bring me home.
Logically I know the rest of the crew had something to do with it, but I kind of like the idea that maybe I am a Disney princess and you're my knight in shining armor coming to rescue me.
It's like the story of Rapunzel, except my tower is a whole planet and instead of catching my hair, you're catching my MAV. Now that I think about it, the stories are more different than they are similar.
That hardly matters though, what does matter is that for the first time I actually feel like I'll survive. I trust our team with every fiber of my being, but most of all I trust you. I'm gonna rest easy tonight. And in the morning I'll start my work on the rovers!
See you in about a year babe! I'll be counting down the hours. Literally.
LOG ENTRY: SOL 426
Happy anniversary Y/N! You thought I'd forget? Never! You know why that is? Because I fucking love you, that's why!
Four years we've been together as of today, that's assuming we are counting the year we've been apart as "being together", (which I do.) Today I'm really beating myself up over frying Pathfinder with my drill all those months ago. It was my only form of communication with you and I royally fucked it up.
You'd think that cutting myself off from Earth, NASA and humanity at large would be what upset me the most. Nope, it's the fact that I can't send you a super sneaky secret anniversary e-mail. I also missed my parents' birthdays, your birthday, Christmas AND Thanksgiving. Twice. Also, fucking Valentine's day! I used to hate that holiday before I met you.
Anyway, as you can see, I totally have all my priorities in order! Also! I got you a present~ Since you have no way to read this, I don't feel bad spoiling it for you. I found a little rock. It's in the shape of a heart.
Awwww wow! That's cute, I just realized that I'm giving you my heart for our anniversary! To be honest, you had it a long time ago.
I miss you. I miss your smell, your eyes, the feel of your skin. Most of all, I really, really miss your voice. I just want to hear you. I've forgotten what you sound like. I'm scared If I didn't have this picture of you and your brother, I'd forget what your face looks like too.
I'm starting my long commute to Schiaparelli in 23 days. It'll be a two month drive. I really hate driving in the rover. But if it gets me to you, who cares? I'm stalling. I've got a lot of work tomorrow and I just want to enjoy today. I wish I was there with you to enjoy it obviously, but we can't all get what we want (least of all, me.) I've learned how to settle.
Speaking of settling, what do you think about getting married in the woods, or a big grassy field? I'd like there to be as much green as possible. No red or orange, we're talking the opposite side of the color wheel here. I can picture you walking down the aisle. I'll be an absolute mess, but who cares. You're the love of my life. Thanks for, y'know, coming back to pick me up instead of leaving me to die on Mars.
I hope you like the rock.
-Mark
P.S. I grew a beard and my hair looks like the 80's had a baby with a grease monster. You'd hate it.
P.P.S. I hope you're into pirates~
P.P.P.S. Y/N Watney... Mark Y/L/N... hmmmmm, so hard to choose!
P.P.P.P.S. We are never eating potatoes again.
P.P.P.P.P.S And ABSOLUTELY NO DISCO MUSIC!
~~~
You stared at Mars creeping back into view. The last time you were here, Mark was sitting beside you, arm around your waist, your head on his shoulder. Maybe it wasn't your most subtle of moments, but how could anyone not be enthralled by the beauty of the red planet? Even now it was hard not to feel stricken with wonder.
Sometimes your mind played tricks on you. You'd see a speck of dust on the window and think you could see Watney on the surface. That was ridiculous of course, There is no possible way to see an individual person this far out. That didn't stop you from imagining it.
NASA had briefed everyone on the Martian's health, explained that he wouldn't look the same as the last time you saw him. You expected as much, but the thought still worried you. It wasn't that you were worried if you'd still find him attractive, there was no force on Earth or beyond that could change how much you loved Mark Watney. It was his health that worried you.
During all your back and forth questions with NASA that Henderson had arranged, you inquired about his health. They said he was doing well, but that he was stretching his little amount of food to its limits. That's what scared you the most. How would his immune system fare? How would he acclimate back to normal food on Earth? All of these questions went unanswered. NASA was honest, "we won't know for sure until he gets here."
"Mind if I join you?" Lewis asked softly, floating a short distance away.
"Of course Commander. I'd like the company," You said. It was surprising to realize you actually meant it. It'd been awhile since you wanted to spend time with anyone.
Melissa floated further into the cupola and settled beside you.
"Crazy to think that in a few days he'll be up here with us again..." Lewis said softly.
"Yeah..." you said softly, keeping your eyes ahead.
"I know how much you miss him... You two were always great friends."
You swallowed hard and tried to ignore the pit in your stomach as you nodded. "Yeah..."
You could see Lewis looking at you out of the corner of your eye. Her expression was conflicted. "I'm really sorry this happened. I know it's been hard on you. I should have searched a little longer-"
"Commander." You stopped her from continuing. "You did all you could. You made the right decision. I wish none of this had happened, but none of this was your fault. It couldn't have been easy to make the choice, and I'm willing to bet that if I were in your shoes, I wouldn't have been strong enough to do it. I'm sure everyone else feels the same exact way, Mark included." You placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Thanks, that's... Thank you," Melissa smiled.
"We're a team, that's what we do. We keep each other grounded."
"That's actually sort of what I wanted to talk to you about..."
"What do you mean?"
"NASA just sent the message a few minutes ago. They're letting us talk to Watney... Directly," Lewis said. You blinked in surprise. No matter how many times you asked, NASA wouldn't allow any kind of direct communication. You wondered why the sudden change of heart.
"Henderson thinks we need to remind him of what he has to look forward to, keep his eyes on the prize so to speak. At least, that's how he's been pitching it to the director. Anyway, the rest of the crew and I agree you should be the one to do it," she finished.
"R-really? I can talk to him?" You asked hopefully, hoping this wasn't a dream.
"Y/N, I can't think of anyone else he would need to hear from more."
~~~
Mark was waiting by the coms in the MAV for any final updates from NASA regarding the meticulous destruction of his ship, piece by piece. He had just finished taking out the main window and it was heavy as hell, even in Mars gravity. He was happy he at least had some time to rest after all that hard work. If he was lucky, maybe they'd wait too long and it would be too dark to get any work done. He could use a good sleep, it seemed like he was needing it more and more lately. Watney suddenly heard the telltale beeps that signaled an incoming message. He was expecting a barrage of questions about his progress, instead he got something so much better.
[19:22] Y/L/N: Hey, Mark.
Mark's voice got caught in his throat.
Y/N.
It had been so fucking long since he talked to you. His eyes burned and his hands shook. Watney leaned his head back in relief, thanking god for this incredible gift. "I just about gave up on you man..." Mark smiled to the sky before nervously typing back.
[19:23] MAV: Y/N!? Holy crap! They're finally letting you talk to me directly?
You released a sigh and covered your face with your hands. He was responding! Really responding! Everyone was looking at you. Beck beamed at you while Martinez watched on with interest. Lewis was waiting to see if you could handle it. No way you were gonna let this one chance slip through your fingers. You sniffed and wiped your eyes before responding.
[19:24] Y/L/N: Yes, NASA just gave the OK for direct communication an hour ago. We're only 35 light-seconds apart, so we can talk in near-real time. Johanssen just set up the system and I'm testing it out.
Mark sighed and smiled. Level headed and professional as always. How you had such self control, he had no idea.
[19:24] MAV: What took them so long to let us talk?
You looked up at Lewis, silently asking if you could relay the truth. She nodded.
[19:25] Y/L/N: The psych team was worried about personality conflicts.
[19:25] MAV: Why? Just 'cause you guys abandoned me on a godforsaken planet with no chance of survival?
Mark typed without thinking and as soon as he hit send, he regretted it. He didn't want you to feel bad, It was a joke. You'd understand that right?
[19:26] Y/L/N: Not funny. Don't make me come down there and kick you.
Watney let out a choked laugh. Half a chuckle and half a sob.
[19:26] MAV: God I missed you.
You smiled at the screen and pushed down the urge to hug Martinez behind you. You were really talking to him! He was only 35 light-seconds away! Suddenly you realized you were blessed with an opportunity even more amazing than just talking with him. You could ask him what you had been asking in all of your disregarded emails!
[19:27] Y/L/N: We missed you too. I've had to take over the botany lab. You'll be happy to know I haven't killed any of your plants...Yet. How are you feeling? We've gotten a few updates from NASA regarding your health, but nothing in incredible detail.
Watney chuckled at the text appearing in front of him. 'Cute,' he thought.
[19:27] MAV: Awwww, are you worried about me?
The crew laughed and you shook your head, swiftly adding your response.
[19:28] Y/L/N: Do I really need to answer that?
Mark snickered and decided not to tease you. He wanted to tell you all of his woes and adequately prepare you for how much he had changed. But he didn't want to put a damper on the mood. Luckily, Watney was a master at sugarcoating.
[19:29] MAV: I'm doing okay. My clothing feels a little loose and I'm craving spaghetti. I'm also in desperate need of a shower. Other than that, I'm just fine. Looking forward to seeing you and the rest of the crew.
Your smile fell. You were happy he was being at least somewhat honest, but you knew it was probably worse than he was making out to be. Unfortunately, Watney was a master at sugarcoating.
[19:29] Y/L/N: We're looking forward to seeing you too. I think it's safe to say a big group hug is in order, if I can get Vogel in on it that is.
Watney hummed at the thought of holding you in his arms. The image was so clear, yet so far away.
[19:30] MAV: At this point, I'd even settle for holding hands. Group hug sounds nice. How are you doing Y/N? I wrote you a lot of emails.
You grimaced and thought your next words through very carefully. With the crew watching, it was hard to collect your thoughts.
[19:31] Y/L/N: I wrote you plenty of my own. There was only so much air time to be used outside of helping you survive. My guess is they put priority on Commander Lewis' emails. Rightfully so of course. I'm doing fine. I've missed you a lot. To be honest, a lot is probably a huge understatement. It's hard to express exactly what I want to say over message.
Mark nodded. You watched him presumably die, leave his 'body' behind, mourn his loss over a period of months, find out you left him there alive, be unable to talk to him for about a year, and suddenly he was here reading and responding to your messages, but you have to limit the details so as to keep those private thoughts private. He couldn't imagine what he would do if the roles were reversed. What you wanted to say needed to be kept between you and him. He understood. There was a lot he wanted to say too.
[19:32] MAV: I know what you mean. I'll be there soon, then you can tell me all about it in person. And I'll tell you all about my space crops and my long voyage to the MAV. Have I mentioned I'm a space pirate?
The crew laughed and for a moment, it felt like he was there. Really there.
[19:33] Y/L/N: Good to know you're still the funniest person on Mars.
[19:33] MAV: Thanks!
[19:33] MAV: Wait a minute! Rude! Don't make me come up there!
[19:34] Y/L/N: Don't threaten me with a good time, Watney.
[19:34] MAV: ;)
You were about to make some really elaborate emoji out of parentheses and dots, when you saw a notification from NASA. Playtime was over. You scowled as you broke the news to your boyfriend.
[19:34] Y/L/N: I hate to cut this short, but NASA wants us to keep the line open. We'll be in touch asking for updates on your progress, but don't expect too much witty banter.
Mark's heart sank a little, but there was no use in leaving such a perfect night on a sour note.
[19:35] MAV: Figures. NASA never lets me do anything fun! Tell the others I said hi.
[19:36] Y/L/N: I'll be sure to pass it along!
Mark's leg tapped nervously. He knew NASA was right about keeping the line open, but he really didn't want it to end yet.
[19:36] MAV: Hey, thanks for coming to get my sorry ass.
[19:36] Y/L/N: No thanks necessary. We'd do it a million times over.
Watney knew you meant it. He could feel the warmth through the bland MAV text on the screen. He couldn't wait to be up there with you...But what if something went wrong? Fuck, don't think about this now! Everything's going to be fine! Right? But what if... There was always a chance, especially on Mars, that things would not go your way. And the likelihood of him surviving this mission was slim at best. He needed to tell you. He should have said it a lot more. A whisper here and there in the hallways, maybe some stupid middle school secret code. Like hell he was going to pass up this one chance, consequences be damned.
[19:37] MAV: I love you, Y/N.
Your heart lurched in your chest. The room fell silent. Martinez lightly squeezed your shoulder. Your eyes flitted around the room to your colleagues. All of them stared with bewildered looks on their faces. What were you supposed to say? What if you got him in trouble? If he was worried about that, why would he send this in the first place?
'You know what, Fuck it,' you thought.
Watney watched the screen with baited breath. "Please..." He whispered. "Please."
[19:38] Y/L/N: I love you too Mark. Sleep well, we'll be there before you know it.
Mark released a cry of joy and typed through the tears.
[19:39] MAV: You too. Goodnight.
[19:39] Y/L/N: Goodnight, Mark.
The line received no new messages after that. Mark rested there a moment before retreating back to the rover. Once the airlock had engaged, he removed his helmet and admired the picture of you and your brother he had taped to the rover computer.
He used to take those words for granted. Why say it when you could show it? He showed it to you as often as he could... At least he used to. You never made him question it for a second. You gave him compliments, brought him water on late nights, listened to his nerdy ramblings about plants and D&D. He'd help you to bed when you were too tired to stand, work out the knots in your shoulders while you typed. Over a year has passed and your grip on his heart is still firm. And when you said those three little words, all of it made sense again. Mark Watney would never again question the power of I love you. He was going to remind you every chance he got. He was going to ask you for it as often as possible. His mom and dad would hear it in every phone call, and no more excluding his friends. He loved them too. He would say it until the term loses all meaning, then he'd remember this night where I love you saved his life.
Mark took off his gloves and danced his thin fingers over the photograph.
"See you soon, baby..." He whispered, "I love you."
~~~
You pulled on your headset and took a deep, self soothing breath. In an hour, the love of your life was going to be launched into Mars's orbit in what could barely be considered a MAV. The thing was a Frankenstein version of the shuttle you had taken off the planet nearly two years ago.
You shook your head. What Mark needed right now was confidence. You could do that.
"How you feeling Y/L/N?" Martinez smiled over at you.
"Like I'm gonna throw up," You laughed.
"Anxious huh?" He smirked, "For the launch, or for your man?"
"Both," You smacked his arm and rolled your eyes. Martinez and Beck hadn't stopped giving you crap for the I love you texts. You didn't mind too much, it was nice being able to acknowledge that side of your relationship with Mark. Unfortunately it made for some rather awkward conversations with the NASA administrators.
"You got nothing to worry about, he's in good hands," Rick said reassuringly.
"I know, we're all badass trained professionals with years of experience," you chuckled. "I can't help it. I'm built to worry."
"You've checked and double checked the telemetry. Johanssen confirmed all of your calculations. It's going to be a smooth ride for sure."
"I'll believe it when I see it."
//////////
Mark scowled at his reflection in the mirror and stroked his beard. He looked like shit, no way around it. He hadn't taken a moment to really look at himself for a long time and he couldn't say he liked what he saw.
"It's the end of an era," Watney said to nobody as he grabbed the razor. "No more captain blonde-beard."
Mark took his time shaving his chin and trimming the hair on his head. By the end of it, he still looked like shit but slightly less so. He felt a little more like himself at least.
He patted his chest to make sure the picture was still there, tucked under his uniform. It was there, along with his anniversary present to you. He slipped the headset over his ears and turned it on. It was nearly time to go. Watney pulled the suit on over his head and double checked if it was all on securely.
"I'm leaving Mars today, one way or another..." He whispered. "About fucking time."
//////////
"Fuel engine green," Your voice seemed to cause time itself to slow down. Not just for Mark, but for the entire world. "Engine alignment, perfect." Mark closed his eyes took a series of deep breaths, trying in vain to keep his emotions in check. "Communications five by five. We are ready for preflight checklist, Commander."
"Copy." Lewis said. "Mission Control, this is Hermes actual. We will proceed on schedule. we have T minus two minutes, ten seconds to launch... Mark." The commander turned her attention to the man of the hour. "About two minutes Watney. How you doing down there?"
"I'm good." He swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat. "I'm anxious to get up to you. Thanks for coming back for me."
You sniffed and shot a smile to Johanssen, who sent you a grin of her own.
"We're going to make it happen. Remember, You'll be pulling some pretty heavy g's. It's okay if you pass out. You're in Martinez's hands."
"Well, tell that asshole no barrel rolls."
"Copy that, MAV."
"CAPCOM."
"Go," you said.
Mark's bottom lip quivered
"Guidance."
"Go," Johanssen said.
"Remote Command."
"Go," Martinez said.
"Telemetry."
"Go," you said again.
He couldn't fight it anymore, he let the tears fall.
"Recovery."
"Go," Beck said.
"Secondary Recovery."
"Go," Vogel said.
"Pilot."
Mark steadied his voice before speaking, "go."
"Mission control, we are go for launch. T minus ten," You said.
"Nine."
"Eight."
"Seven."
"Six."
"Five."
Mark closed his eyes and focused on your voice. "See you in a few, baby..." He whispered.
"Four."
"Three."
"Two."
"One."
The force of the blast was incredible, and growing more painful by the second. His breathing came out short and panicked as the Hab canvas rattled nightmarishly against the MAV. His panic only increased as the canvas ripped from the shuttle, exposing him to the full force of the MAV's thrust. He couldn't even scream. All he could do was watch the sky grow darker and darker.
"Watney." He heard your voice from far away.
"Watney, do you read me?" Your voice called again. His eyes drooped and his vision faded.
//////////
"Watney. Do you read?" You asked in the calmest voice you could muster.
"He's probably passed out. He pulled 12 g's on the ascent. Give him a few minutes," Beck said.
"Copy that." You said and turned your attention on the numbers before you. "I have interval pings. Intercept velocity will be eleven meters per second."
"I can make that work," Beck confirmed.
"Distance at intercept will be....we'll be sixty-eight kilometers apart..." You whimpered and buried your face in your hands.
"Did they say sixty-eight Kilometers? Kilometers?!" Beck cried.
"Keep it together, work the problem. Martinez, any juice left in the MAV?" Lewis asked.
"Negative, Commander."
"Then we'll have to go to him. Y/L/N, time to intercept?"
"Thirty-nine minutes, twelve seconds," You steeled yourself and focused on your coordinates.
"Martinez, what if we point the attitude thrusters all the same direction?" Lewis asked.
"Depends on how much we want to save for the attitude adjustments on the trip home."
"How much do you need?"
"I could get by with maybe twenty percent of what's left. If I use the other eighty percent... We'd get a delta-v of thirty-one meters per second."
"Y/L/N, Math."
"In thirty-nine minutes, we'd deflect....seventy-two kilometers! Use seventy-five point five percent of remaining attitude adjust fuel. That'll bring the intercept range to zero," You did the math quickly.
"Do it." Lewis said.
"Hold your horses, that'll get the range to zero, but the velocity will be forty-two meters per second."
"Then we have thirty-nine minutes to figure out how to slow down. Burn the jets."
//////////
Mark awoke to find himself spinning. Flashes of stars and the red glow of the Martian surface had him feeling a little dizzy. "MAV to Hermes?"
"Watney?" You gasped.
"Affirmative," he grunted.
"What's your status?" You asked calmly.
"Uhhh..." He winced and leaned back in his seat. "My chest hurts. I think I broke a rib. How are you, sweetheart?" He groaned.
"We're working on getting to you," you relayed. "There was a complication in the launch."
"Yeah," Watney dejectedly looked at the massive hole in the roof of his ship. "The canvas didn't hold. I think it ripped early in the ascent."
"That's consistent with what we saw during the launch," Lewis agreed.
"How bad is it, Commander?" he asked.
"We were able to correct the intercept range with Hermes's attitude thrusters, but there's a problem with the intercept velocity."
"How big a problem."
"Forty-two meters per second."
"Well..." Mark paused and tried to wrap his head around that number. "Shit."
//////////
You typed furiously, staring at your screen unblinkingly as you worked through all the possible ways to bring down the velocity.
"Hey, I've got an idea," Watney said.
"Of course you do, what have you got?" Lewis asked.
"I could find something sharp in here and poke a hole in my EVA suit. I could use the escaping air as a thruster and fly my way to you. The source of thrust would be on my arm, so I'd be able to control it pretty easily."
"How does he come up with this shit?" Martinez laughed.
"I can't see you having any control if you did. You'd be eyeballing the intercept using a thrust vector you can barely control."
"I admit it's fatally dangerous, but consider this: I'd get to fly around like Iron Man."
"We'll keep working on ideas," Lewis said.
"Iron Man, Commander. Iron Man."
"Stand by," Lewis temporarily cut contact with Watney.
You furrowed your brows at the screen, waiting for the correct course of action to jump out at you. Suddenly, there it was. "Wait! that's it!" you looked back at the Commander. "Mark's a genius! We could use the ship's atmosphere as thrust. We could blow the vehicular airlock. Seal the bridge and the reactor room. Iron Man... But bigger!"
"....." Melissa stared at you for a moment before addressing Alex. "Vogel?"
"Yes commander?"
"I need you to come inside and make a bomb," she ordered.
~~~
"I have visual, I can see the MAV," Beck said. "Jesus Mark, what did you do to that thing?"
"You should see the rover," Mark radioed. He was ready to get out of his goddamned chair, ready to get away from this hunk of junk that could barely be considered a MAV.
"Call out my velocity to Mark every two seconds or so," Chris said.
"Copy." You responded.
"Hey Beck, the front's wide open. I'll get up there and be ready to grab at you." Watney said.
"Negative, no untethered movement. Stay strapped to your chair until you're attached to Beck."
"Copy." Mark huffed. Lewis was right, impatience would be the death of him out here and he had come too far to die now. Instead, he focused on your voice calling out the relative velocity.
"Three point one meters per second."
"Eleven meters to target."
"Six meters."
"Contact." Beck grabbed the canvas of the destroyed MAV. "Firm contact."
"You have fourteen seconds Dr. Beck."
"Copy."
Nothing could have prepared Watney for how he'd feel seeing Beck's helmet poking through the opening.
Pure. Unadulterated. Serotonin.
"Visual on Watney!"
"Visual on Beck!"
"How ya doin' man?" Beck pushed himself toward Mark, meanwhile Mark was trying not to have another emotional breakdown.
"I....I just...Give me a minute, you're the first person I've seen in eighteen months," Watney croaked.
"We don't have a minute," Beck clumsily collided with Mark. "Contact with Watney... Connected!"
"Restraints off," Watney called.
"We're outta here!"
//////////
"Houston, this is Hermes actual. Seven crew safely aboard," Lewis's voice echoed in your mind as you, Martinez, Johanssen, and Lewis pushed yourselves toward the airlock where Vogel and Beck were bringing him in.
Mark.
You could see his dusty helmet from the small window on the airlock. Already you were feeling an overwhelming ache deep in your chest. There he was, only a few feet away, behind this door. Your crewmates flew in and clambered for Watney.
"Hey guys!" He laughed.
You were frozen in the doorway.
His helmet came off.
Everything slowed down.
Everyone was smiling and laughing. High fiving. Quick hugs. They all wanted to get as far away from the smell as they could.
Your eyes met.
There were beads of what looked like water floating in the air. When did you start crying?
Mark held out his arms to you and you wasted no more time. He hugged you as tightly as he could with the bulky arms of his EVA suit. His face buried into your neck as he cried softly. "Y/N...." He whispered in a broken voice. "Y-Y/N?"
"I'm right here Mark... Right here." You cradled the back of his head, scratching that spot at the base of his neck. He always liked it when you did that
"I stink, don't I?" Watney laughed in between sobs.
"You do. You really do," You tried to keep up the joke. "But if im being completely honest, I couldn't possibly care less," you laughed.
Slowly, you pulled back so you could get a good look at his face. He was thin. Gaunt, and covered in bed sores. That should have been expected of course, It's not like he had anywhere to shower in the rover. He looked at you like you were an angel. He looked embarrassed, like he wanted to hide.
Your fingers danced over his cheek and his eyes fluttered closed at the tenderness. The crew watched on with pride and varying degrees of bashfulness.
Mark opened his eyes and stared at you pleadingly as orbs of tears flowed from their corners. "Y/N... Please..." He whispered.
You didn't hesitate for a second.
You grabbed the sides of Mark's face and smashed your lips against his. So soft... your hands are so soft and your lips are trembling. The heat of your skin, the scent of your hair. It was even better than he remembered. He couldn't breathe, he could barely even think. He wanted so desperately to kiss you back, to fall into your embrace until there's no space left between, but his ribs hurt like hell and his suit was in the way. Mark whimpered as your fingers tangled into his hair. Fuck. Fuck. 'Everything hurts baby, please don't stop kissing me,' he pleaded in his head. 'Don't stop.'
When you started pulling away, he reached out to pull you closer again, but winced when he moved his arm.
"Slow down, baby." You breathed and pressed a little smooch to his forehead.
"Alright love birds, I need to get Iron Man over here to sick bay."
"But-" Watney protested.
"No buts, you need an X-ray and a shower. Maybe three." Beck laughed.
Mark looked at you pleadingly and you caressed his face. "I'll be by once Beck fixes you up. I gotta help check the ship for damage. Okay?"
He nodded and smiled. "Don't miss me too much~"
"You seek the impossible, Watney." You kissed his forehead again and let Chris lead your Martian down the hall to his quarters.
"Wow," Martinez said "I can't decide if that was incredibly romantic or incredibly awkward."
"Shut up Martinez," You playfully shoved his shoulder.
"Honestly though, he smells terrible! You've got some nerves of steel, Y/L/N," Johanssen joked.
"My boyfriend just spent eighteen months alone on a remote planet, If he wants a kiss he's gonna get that goddamned kiss. Definitely not a quick one and definitely not a half-assed one. But I will say one thing," you grinned.
"What's that?" Lewis smirked.
"He's not getting another one until he brushes his teeth."
~~~
Mark settled into his bunk after what felt like hours. He finally had a bath. Five, in fact. The showers were on a timer to conserve water. He had to run that timer five times before he finally felt clean. The water hurt the sores on his skin, but he felt so much better afterward that he almost wanted to go in for a sixth one. Mark brushed his teeth about three times and got rid of all the tangles in his hair. He'd need someone to touch up the cutting job he did. Now that it was all brushed out, it looked astoundingly bad.
After his long grooming session, Beck took an X-ray and determined that he'd broken two ribs. Chris bandaged him up, gave him some pain medicine, made him eat, and sent him to bed for some well deserved rest. At first, Mark protested. He hated the idea of everyone else fixing the ship while their lead engineer was taking a nap. But he was painfully tired and painfully...well... in pain.
Hey! His bunk didn't smell like shit! That's a huge upgrade from his bunk in the Hab- no more thinking about that place.
With a deep groan, Watney eased himself into bed. Weird...his sheets smelled like you. He didn't mind of course, you always smelled nice. He had never been more thankful for the centripetal force spinning the ship. He would have hated having broken ribs in zero g's. He imagined trying to sleep with his body constantly moving ever so slightly. Sounded like hell to him.
Mark wondered what the others were doing. He hoped there wasn't something too terribly wrong with the ship. The subtle groans of metal didn't ease his nerves. He was never scared of the Hermes before, but he was just now coming to terms with that fact that the ship had taken some serious abuse over the past few months, not to mention the past few hours. Normally Hermes would undergo maintenance after each mission, but because they turned around to get him that maintenance was scrapped.
New fear unlocked: Dooming his team to die in space because they had to turn around and get him.
He almost thought the knocking on his door was the hull breaking apart into a billion little bite-sized pieces.
"Come in," he said.
He expected it to be Beck checking in on him, but he was relieved when you poked your head in with a shy smile.
"Heyyyy, look over there! It's the world's handsomest boyfriend!" You said with gusto.
"You are such a kiss ass," Mark laughed, which hurt his ribs, which made him laugh again from how pitiful he must look.
You scoffed as you stepped into his quarters, shutting the door behind you. "You calling me a liar?" you grabbed a loose storage box and used it as a chair so you could sit beside his bed.
"That's exactly what I'm calling you," he smirked. "Seriously. Have you seen me lately? I look like a... a popsicle stick with a bad haircut."
You looked him up and down. His sores looked a lot better after cleaning them. You had no doubt they would heal nicely. The malnourishment on the other hand... That might take some work. You and Beck already had a few dietary plans for him. You discussed it while you reorganized the chow hall. Still, Mark was the most beautiful person you had ever seen. Even now, those alluring blue eyes were mesmerizing you. And let's not forget that goddamned tantalizing smile.
"I'm looking at you right now, babe," You giggled.
"And?"
"You're still as gorgeous as ever. Just a gorgeous man who's been through some shit," you carded your fingers through his hair. Mark hummed and closed his eyes. "How are you feeling?" you whispered.
"Physically or emotionally?"
"Both."
"Emotionally, happy. Very happy. Best day of my life kind of happy," he smiled. "Physically, pretty shitty. The medicine hasn't kicked in."
"Anything I can do to help you feel better?" you asked warmly.
Watney sent you a smug look, "Oh, I can think of a few things that might help~"
"Not until your ribs are healed."
"Damn."
You leaned down and pushed his hair back so you could kiss his forehead. He gave you a dazed grin, "oh, what do you know? I feel better already," he whispered in a gravelly voice. "... I really missed you..."
"I missed you too Mark..."
"I can't believe I can... I can feel you again. I can hear you and see you and feel you... s'insane..." He reached up and cupped your cheek despite the pain. "You were always on my mind. I-I just really wanted... I wanted to make it back to you." He brought his thumb just under your eye to catch a stray tear.
You covered his hand with yours and pressed a kiss to his palm.
"I-I don't even know what to say... I've been feeling so much, I don't know how to... how to-" He swallowed hard.
"Everything's changed so fast," you reassured him. "But we aren't on the messaging system anymore. It's a long journey home, we have plenty of time to find the right words," you continued to run your fingers into his hair.
"I fucking love you... " he closed his eyes and reveled in the feeling of your nails against his scalp. "I'm gonna marry you one day, decided just now."
"Just now?" You snickered.
"No...Realistically, it was the first night we uh... slept together. Do you remember that?" Watney chuckled.
"Of course I do," you smiled, thinking of his messy blonde hair, searing gaze, and strong arms. He took his time with you that night, unhurried, attentive, and unabashedly vocal. "How could I forget?"
Mark shook his head and looked away to hide his blush, but not even his smile could distract you from it. "Sorry, sorry. Go on, continue!"
"Well, I uh..." He let out a sheepish chuckle. "Obviously every part of that night was perfect, but it's what happened after that really changed things."
"Oh?" you leaned closer, curiosity getting the better of you.
"You let me be the little spoon. I'm fine with being the big spoon most of the time, but you gotta be the little spoon sometimes, you know? No one ever let me be the little spoon before you... And when I woke up, you were still holding me." His fingertips danced down your arm, leaving a trail of chills in their wake. Once he reached your hand, Mark intertwined your fingers. It wasn't a conscious movement for him, simply muscle memory. But you couldn't keep your mind off of it. "I know I goof around a lot, but I can't stress how serious I'm being when I say... I have never felt that loved before. It was just... such a perfect night. I knew that you were the one for me well before, but that was the first time I really saw my future flash before my eyes like that."
Your eyes stung a little as you tenderly kissed his lips. "Want to know when I decided?" you whispered against him.
"Please..." He whispered back.
"Remember when I had that terrible flu during the first year of our training program?"
"Oh damn, yeah I do! You looked terrible, baby." Mark teased.
"I felt terrible. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, and I definitely couldn't go to lectures... I was so worried about missing, even though the professors agreed there was no way I could come to class. You brought me a copy of your notes. The copy machine in the library was down, so you had to write them by hand... you even filled them with these horrible stick figure drawings," you laughed and Mark brought your knuckles to his lips and watched you, immersed in the sound of your voice. It was like he was trying to commit you to memory. You were doing much the same.
"Anyway, you stayed with me and you made some Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup. You stopped by everyday until I got better."
"We were just friends back then," he whispered against your hand.
"I know, but every time I think about how much I love you... that memory comes back, playing on repeat."
"Say that again."
"That again," you smirked. Mark gave you a sassy eyebrow. "Which part babe?" you laughed.
"The uh..." he trailed off.
You lightly kissed his cheek, "I love you, Mark... I love you so much." You peppered his face with little smooches. When you finally pulled back, he was all red again and teary eyed.
"I love you too, Y/N," He whispered. You sat together in silence for awhile before Mark suddenly remembered something extremely important! "Oh shit! I almost forgot!" He winced as he reached into his pocket. "Happy late four year anniversary!" He finally presented you with his gift.
Your fingers trembled as you took the little rock into your hands. Mark's Martian heart stared back up at you, dusting your palm orange.
"Y-you remembered our anniversary?"
"Of course I remembered! Have I ever forgotten before?" Mark smirked.
"N-no, but..." You couldn't help it, you were crying again god dammit. "Thank you Mark, I love it." You beamed and kissed him so hard he lost his entire train of thought. He sighed and pulled you closer like he had wanted to do hours ago. Fuck. There you go again, playing with his hair like it wasn't going to rile him up. He moaned and reached for your waist, only to be pulled swiftly back to reality by the jarring pain in his abdomen. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Mark." You pulled away quickly.
"It wasn't you, I was getting too carried away." He winced and took a deep breath. "My bad," Watney laughed.
You sat down on the crate beside his bed and settled for playing with his hand. While you took inventory of every new callus, Mark once again saw his future flash right before his eyes. You and him and that little house with the green shutters. He's gonna have the best garden in the neighborhood, you'll have all the time in the world for reading. No potatoes. No disco.
"Y/N... Can you hold me?"
"Oh baby, I would love to but the beds are so small-"
"Ouch, oof, oh! ow!" He scooted closer to the wall to make room for you.
You sighed and shook your head. "Mark, your ribs-"
"Please..." he whispered. Dammit! What are you supposed to do when he gives you the puppy eyes!? Beck is going to kill you...
"I can't ever say no to you, can I?" You laughed and scooted into the bed. "Seriously, you've got me wrapped around your finger."
Mark smiled as you tucked yourself into his side. He wanted to be the little spoon, but he couldn't turn over so his back was against your chest. He'd just have to heal quickly, then he could freely snuggle, (and do other things) without any constraints!
He turned his head so he could admire your lovely, beautiful face. You were already looking back at him, one hand holding your rock close to your chest, the other was draped carefully over his waist. Mark swears he's never seen anything more breathtaking in his life.
He slowly leaned closer- Fuck! His ribs hurt so bad, where the hell is the Vicodin when you need it?
You gently smoothed out the crease between his brows with your thumb and pushed his hair back again. Mark closed his eyes, succumbing to the bliss that came with knowing he would never be alone again. You kissed him again and pulled his blanket over the both of you.
"I love you, Mark."
"I love you too."
He felt your hand slip under his shirt and onto his stomach. You drew soft shapes onto his skin, but stopped when you felt the scar just above the hem of his pants. It was jagged and angry.
He swallowed.
Much to his surprise and relief, you didn't pull your hand away. You just kept tracing the new territory.
He sighed and kissed your temple. His body shuddered in relief. "Th-this isn't a dream, right? You'll still be here when I wake up?" he whispered.
You peeked your head up and smiled "I'm not going anywhere, I'm afraid you're stuck with me." You leaned in and gave him one more kiss. He smiled into it and finally allowed himself to rest his eyes.
And one of the biggest praises for the film is how dark it is.
Touching on themes most kids movies wouldn't.
This is one of the PG animated movies where the rating actually means something.
Featuring a depiction of a midlife crisis, showing the soul-crushing mundaneness of everyday life, toying with potential infidelity, and showcasing TONS of death and murder.
And there's a few scenes that really stand out for how dark they are.
Such as the suicide attempt during the prologue and most famously, the KRONOS Unveiled scene.
This is not only the best scene in the movie, but has been widely considered as one of the greatest scenes in film in general.
It perfectly builds tension using Michael Giacchino's stellar score and visual storytelling, which culminates in a chilling revelation about Syndrome's plan.
And the real kicker is, of course, Mr. Incredible discovering so many Supers that had been slaughtered by Syndrome.
Which hits even harder when you remember that many of these guys were his friends.
Well since today is Halloween, I wanted to cover something that while it isn't spooky, it does cover a particularly dark topic.
And that's on how the known slain Supers died.
I mean, we all know that were taken out by The Omnidroids.
But we don't really know how they were specifically taken out.
And I'm surprised I haven't seen anyone touch on that topic yet.
So I figured in honor of Halloween, I'd talk about this topic.
Figuring out how each of the Supers were taken out by The Omnidroids and where Syndrome's slaughtering on the Supers fit in the Incredibles timeline.
So without further ado, let's get started!
General Overview:
Right off the bat, we got a establish this.
Syndrome's slaughtering of the Supers is much more recent than you would think.
Remember, he's canonically 27.
And the end of The Glory Days, which took place shortly after his encounter with Bob, happened 15 years ago.
Meaning he would've been 12.
There's no way he started this massacre at such a young age.
I think it's safe to say that he largely lived a normal life.
Finishing up junior high.
Going to high shcool.
And then eventually college.
Given how Syndrome obtained his wealth by selling advanced weapons to governments and militaries, I could assume that he probably attracted the attention of some government officials first through his incredible (heh) inventions.
Probably did so at a science fair/expo for his college.
And it impressed them so much that they gave him a job.
Soon enough, Syndrome was able to quickly become rich because of the weapons he made and mostly likely made friends with some government officials.
And one of those friends would be one who just so happened to have access to The NSA Files.
And so, Syndrome's crusade would begin.
I think it's safe to say that when Syndrome started his Supers slaughtering, he would've had to have been fresh out of college.
So most likely 22, putting this about five years prior to the present.
And after a few months of making his base on Nomanisan Island and creating the very first Omnidroid, Syndrome was ready to unleash his creation onto the Supers, using Mirage to lure them to the island.
So with that out of the way, let's start talking about slaughtering!
Universal Man:
Here we have the very first Super to have died to The Omnidroid.....
And perhaps the most baffling.
Many people, myself included, have been absolutely confused by how Universal Man was....even killed in general.
Since if you look at his powers, they're absolutely fucking CRACKED!
He had the power to manipulate his molecular density.
As for what he could do with that power.
-He could make himself more or less INVINCIBLE, being impossible to harm in any sort of way.
-Grant himself superhuman strength.
-Grant himself the ability to fly.
-Becoming intangible
-Turn invisible
-And manipulate the pressure and speed of molecules in objects to the point of COMBUSTION! Along with being able to throw waves of explosive energy at enemies!
With all that said, he should be one of the most powerful Supers in the world!
Not to mention, Syndrome should've been COOKED a long time ago!
I just can't see Universal Man losing to any of The Omnidroids, let alone the very first one!
It's even stranger given how out of the known Supers on KRONOS, he had the second lowest Threat Rating at 2.9!
He should be WAY higher than that!
Like somewhere in the 8 or even 9 range.
But this does lead us into his weaknesses.
On his stats, it's shown that while Universal Man ranked pretty high in Power Type and was maxed out in Indestructibility, everything else left much to be desired.
Especially his Agility and Intelligence.
However, like I said before, he was able to make himself incredibly strong.
And while he most likely wasn't as strong as Bob, he was definitely far stronger than the average human.
So he should be ranked much higher in that category.
Endurance is pretty strange as well since it's stated that out of all the Supers, he contributed to being a hero just about all the time.
And I mean ALL the time.
So he should've been at least fairly competent at his job, in spite of his low intelligence.
Now some of you will probably bring up how Universal Man has the ability to bring his density to the point of becoming a BLACK HOLE.
And at first glance, this does seem like an insta-win.
However, this is actually a double-edged sword.
It's stated that he can't control this form at all.
And it would end up resulting in the entire planet being DESTROYED!
But with even the first Omnidroid being incredibly strong, fast and having sharp claws, realistically, this shouldn't be a problem for Universal Man, since he could just tank all of it!
So with that said, how was he even defeated?
Well ever since The NSA Files started trending, a popular fan theory has arose that answered how Universal Man was killed.
And it's one that I could actually see being true.
The theory is that Universal Man PURPOSELY let himself get killed by The Omnidroid.
And when you look at the information we have on the guy and really think about it, this unfortunately makes a lot of sense.
The reason why Universal Man was always doing hero work was because he barely had a secret identity, something he was deeply upset about.
There was also the fact that he was something of an outcasts among his fellow heroes for that reason.
And his given how his tape shows that he's pretty mentally and emotionally unstable, that probably didn't help either.
And when given how the moment that Universal Man fought the first Omnidroid would've been about 10 years since the ban of Supers......just imagine what he would be like!?
He was probably like Bob but even more miserable.
At least Bob was being a hero because he genuinely loved helping those in need.
Whereas Universal Man was being a hero because he really had nothing going for him in life.
And if he couldn't make any sort of meaningful connections with his fellow Supers, you think he'll have any luck with normal civilians.
And going off his tape, Universal Man didn't have much luck with romance either.
So it's safe to say that he didn't have a special somebody in his life.
I think it's safe to say that during his fight with The Omnidroid, Universal Man was probably having the time of his life.
Given this was his first taste of action in about a decade.
And at some point, he realized that once he defeats The Omnidroid, he would have to go back to a lonely and miserable life.
And so, Universal Man let himself be slain by The Omnidroid.
Because to him, being dead would be better than being alone and miserable.
Psycwave:
Now Psycwave's defeat is a bit more easier to grasp.
Despite of how powerful most of her powers are, they unfortunately have no effect on machines.
But even then, she also had telekinesis, which would've definitely be pretty useful.
And if you ever seen X-Men, then you'd known how powerful telekinesis can truly be.
In spite of powerful she is, he has the lowest Threat Rating at 1.6!
There's no way she should be that low.
She should definitely be at least in the 8 category!
I can only assume these Threat Ratings were done by Syndrome and in the case of Psycwave, it was probably because of how most of her powers couldn't really do jack-shit to The Omnidroid.
As for Universal Man, I could imagine it was probably because he wasn't using everything he had at his disposal.
As for how Psycwave got defeated.
I could assume that even with her telekinesis, she was constantly being quartered by The Omnidroid and its superior speed.
Not helping is the fact that she's canonically stated to be paranoid.
And I could imagine Syndrome would definitely use that to his advantage.
Having the fear of The Omnidroid lingering over Psycwave, this would definitely make her a lot of more impulsive and not being able to think straight, even with her high intelligence.
It should be noted that even though Psycwave was defeated, it's been stated that her body was never found.
So it could be assumed that she was able to escape The Omnidroid.
But given how her stats show that her Indestructibility was not very good, so she probably didn't make it that far before succumbing to her injuries.
Everseer:
Like Psycwave, Everseer is pretty easy to grasp how he died.
His powers were primarily made for support.
And unlike Psycwave and Universal Man, he didn't have any powers that would aid him in offense.
Top that with how his Strength, Agility and Indestructibility are pretty damn low and how he couldn't fight for shit due to him actively avoiding physical confrontations thanks to being a massive germaphobe.
I couldn't really see him lasting very long against The Omnidroid.
But with that said.....
HOW THE HELL DOES HE HAVE A HIGHER THREAT THAN PSYCWAVE AND UNIVERSAL MAN?!
Granted, it's only a 3.2, but still!
When you compare the three, Everseer hands down seems like the weakest here.
Largely thanks to his lack of offensive capabilities.
I genuinely want to know what Syndrome was smoking when he was making these Threat Ratings.
Marcoburst:
Now we've arrived to Marcoburst, the very first Super to have defeated an Omnidroid.
Marcoburst most likely defeated the first Omnidroid by out-maneuvering it (as it's shown on his file that he was very agile) and hitting it with powerful gusts of wind.
However, they would eventually fall to the second Omnidroid.
As for how.
I think its safe to say that Syndrome made the hull of the second Omnidroid a bit stronger.
At least enough to make it more resistant to powerful wind velocity.
And a bit faster to be able to catch Macroburst by surprise.
It also probably had gotten them trapped in a very tight space, which would definitely be a detriment to Marcoburst given that they're stated to be claustrophobic.
The Phylange:
Phylange is pretty easy to understand in terms of how he got defeated.
His power of sonic voice field projection sounded pretty powerful, but by the time his tape was recorded, was more or less non-existent.
Given how everytime he used it, he would get his voice blown out.
And eventually getting diagnosed with laryngitis didn't help either.
In his tape, his voice sounds ROUGH.
And I think it's safe to say that during his confrontation with the second Omnidroid, he couldn't really do much of anything.
So their fight was probably pretty short.
However, it is pretty strange how Phylange has a higher Threat Rating (4.7) than most of the heroes who lost to the first Omnidroid (except for Marcoburst).
Especially since by the time his tape was recorded, his power was pretty weaken!
Granted, it probably returned back to a state like how it was in his prime thanks to the decade-long break from heroics.
So in that case, the second Omnidroid must've utilized Phylange's weakness to sonic feedback (incapacitating him) and eventually impaled him with his claws while he was down.
Blazestone:
Blazestone is also pretty easy to see how she was defeated.
Given her major weaknesses are water and cold temperatures (as she can't use her powers when covered in either), the second Omnidroid had either knocked her into a body of water of some kind or had some special device that allowed it to emit a freezing mist.
And with her being left powerless, The Omnidroid went in for the kill.
After Blazestone's defeat, the second Omnidroid was eventually destroyed by an unknown Super.
Thus leading Syndrome to create the third Omnidroid.
The third Omnidroid eventually killed two unknown Supers and an actually known Super.
Downburst:
Downburst is a pretty interesting one.
When he first started his career as a super, his powers weren't exactly all that impressive.
As he could only use his atomic manipulation to heal minor wounds and reshape matter on a rather small scale.
But over time, he would start to master his power.
Being able to reshape matter on a more complex scale and heal severe wounds.
And it even got to the point where he could actually create portals!
Not to mention he has a 6.5 Threat Rating, which is nothing to scoff at.
So he would be a pretty tricky Super to fight.
Chances are Downburst was either defeated by the third Omnidroid catching him by surprise and impaling him, or was just overpowered and beaten to death.
Hypershock:
Hypershock was the second-known Super to have taken down an Omnidroid.
He most likely defeated the third Omnidroid by either causing a massive landslide that crushed it, or splitting the ground beneath it, causing it to fall into The Earth.
His superhuman strength also probably allowed him to get some good hits on it as well.
However, he would eventually fall to the fourth Omnidroid.
As for how it defeated him.
It was probably given the ability to jump incredibly high (now having actual legs), which would've allowed it to dodge Hypershock's seismic waves.
And while in the air, it most likely decided to drop down on Hypershock with great force, crushing him to death.
Apogee:
Apogee is pretty interesting.
Since while her powers are absolutely BUSTED (accompanied by a 6.5 Threat Rating), they're unfortunately very situational.
Apogee's biggest weakness is that her powers don't work at all whenever there's no sunlight.
So if there's clouds out, a solar eclipse, or it's sunset.
Yeah she's pretty much useless.
It's safe to say that her confrontation with the fourth Omnidroid took place either at sunset or at night, rendering her powers obsolete.
And so, The Omnidroid was able to make a quick kill.
Blitzerman, Tradewind and Vectress:
I'm grouping these three together since there aren't any files on them and apart from the LEGO video game, they haven't been shown what they look like at all.
But going off what we've got.
Blitzerman could move with great speed and force, which allowed him to blitz through obstacles.
Tradewind was basically The Avatar, being able control various elements of nature.
And Vectress was basically The Phylange (but possibly without the same drawback).
As for how they got defeated.
The fourth Omnidroid's hull was probably too thick and durable for Blitzerman to run through.
And there's a chance that he probably broke his neck when he tried to do so by the immediate collision.
The hull was also probably resistant various elements, which wouldn't be in the favor for Tradewind.
And he was probably taken out thanks to The Omnidroid's ability to jump high.
And Vectress was probably taken out the same way as Phylange through sonic feedback.
Gazerbeam:
After killing two more unknown Supers, the fourth Omnidroid would see its defeat at the hands of Gazerbeam.
As his beams have been showed to be pretty powerful and can burn through solid metal.
But sadly, he would fall to the fifth Omnidroid.
In terms of how he was defeated.
Syndrome most likely made the fifth Omnidroid's hull smooth enough to deflect lasers, as reflective surfaces are stated to be one of Gazerbeam's weaknesses.
And the fight most likely took place at night, as another weakness of his is not being able to see well in the dark.
Gazerbeam was most likely mortally wounded by one of his own lasers.
But as we all know, he was able to escape into a cave and used what little energy he had left to carve the word KRONOS into its walls, hoping that someday, someone will find it and finally bring Syndrome down.
Stormicide:
Stormicide is pretty interesting.
Because I was having a tricky time trying to figure out how she died.
Since it doesn't seem there would be a way for The Omnidroid to counter her powers.
Since there would be vapors just about everywhere on a tropical island.
But I thought about it, and I realized that admittedly, he powers probably wouldn't do all that much to The Omnidroid.
Since a lot of those would be water-based and I'm certain that The Omnidroid would be resistant to that.
Gamma Jack:
Now we've come to the last officially known Super to have died to The Omnidroid.
Gamma Jack was able to destroy the fifth Omnidroid.
Most definitely because of his power to manipulate radiation, being able to bring it to the point of disintegration.
However, he would eventually fall to the sixth Omnidroid.
In terms of how that happened.
If you look at the sixth Omnidroid's model, you can see that it started to resemble its successors with its spherical shape.
And given how the later models of The Omnidroid could roll into a ball and move at incredible speeds, it's safe to say that it was too fast for Gamma Jack to hit.
And it's possible that Syndrome made the hull of this one either resistant to radiation energy, or at the very least could withstand it for a good amount of time.
I mean, given how the eighth Omnidroid was able to withstand being submerged in lava, I wouldn't be surprised.
Not helping is how Gamma Jack's major weakness is that the intensity of his bursts get weaker the further they go.
And it's safe to say that he was forced to fight The Omnidroid from a considerable distance due to how fast and strong it was.
So Gamma Jack was either taken out in one of two ways.
1#) He was caught off guard by The Omnidroid and either crushed or impaled.
Or 2#) He was tired out and eventually killed. If you look at his stats, it's shown that his Endurance is surprisingly not that good.
To wrap this, we come back to the Incredibles timeline.
As Gamma Jack's death gives a good time when this happened and how long the Supers slaughtering had been going on.
And that's for a character not really related to the whole ordeal.
Jack Jack.
Yeah I'm not kidding.
He actually could be the answer to this question.
It's been heavily speculated that Jack Jack was named after Gamma Jack, given how he was one of Bob's closest friends.
Though that's very strange given everything we know about him.
Remember, he was basically Homelander but a little less bad.
But following the ban on Supers, chances are Gamma Jack mellowed out quite a lot.
I mean, that wouldn't be too surprising.
Tons of people change over time for the better.
With that considered, along with knowing that Jack Jack is currently a year old, Gamma Jack's death have to had been at least over a year before the present.
Gamma Jack most likely had died just a few months before Jack Jack was born.
But to his friends, since they wouldn't know the truth until later, Gamma Jack just straight up disappeared and was never seen again.
Which I could imagine hit Bob pretty hard given he was one of his closest friends.
Gazerbeam too.
And so, he and Helen decided to name their latest child after him in his honor.
And with that considered, that means that at the point, Syndrome's slaughtering on the Supers had been going on for over three years, with all the known Supers to haven fallen to The Omnidroid during that time frame.
Well that's it for now.
Not exactly spooky, this post does cover a particularly dark topic.
Which I felt was still perfect for Halloween.
I'd hope you guys like it.
Plus I'd like to hear your theories on how much time passed between the murder of each Super during the time frame I just mentioned.
Also I'd like to hear your theories on what happened to the sixth and seventh Omnidroid, since their fate is completely unknown.
Whether they were destroyed by another Super, or were just decommissioned.
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Summary; After an argument, you cuddle up on the couch and watch a West Ham game.
Notes; I love myself a vulnerable whiny Tan, what can I say?🤷♂️
Warnings; Arguing, Foul language.
Taglist Sign-up Sheet!
Tags; @flufftober
“I don’t care how busy you are right now, Tan. We haven’t hung out in almost a month! I mean, you’re never around anymore; I’m always by myself in here; it gets lonely without you. All I want is just one day together. That is all that I ask right now, Tan.” You shout.
“Y/n, love, you don’t seem to be understanding me right now, clearly. But I keep telling you that I do not have the time to simply be ‘hanging out’ right now. There’s too much shit going on. Lem and I are busy.” Tangerine explains, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“You wouldn’t be so busy if you wouldn’t be taking so many fucking calls. You simply come and go. This is hardly a marriage anymore, and if you can’t do something as simple as be here for one day, then I—I don’t know what I’m going to do anymore. I don’t know…” You sigh.
Tangerine freezes, his eyes widening and his mouth slightly dropping. What did you mean by that?
“By the look on your face I know what you're thinking, and I promise you I don't mean that.” You frown.
Tangerine finally came to his senses, he was being selfish. He didn't want to lose you, the only person that has actually dealt with his bullshit and taken care of him other than his brother.
Tangerine walks up to you and holds you in his arms in silence as he rubs his hands on your back.
“I'm sorry.”
“I love you, Tan. I really do, but we've never had problems like this the past 5 years we've been together, and we both need to work through this and be better.” You sigh. “I don't want to talk about this any further right now, though. Maybe tomorrow when you're not so grumpy, yeah?” You say, holding Tangerine's face in your hands.
Tangerine laughs and nods, placing a kiss to your lips.
“The West Ham game is on, can we watch that?” Tangerine asks.
You laugh and scruff Tangerine's once nicely done hair.
“Yes, let's.”
You gathered blankets and pillows, more than you probably needed, and your teddy of course.
“Why do we need so many blankets and pillows? That bear should be put in a glass box, it's 30 years old.” Tangerine jokes.
“Don't talk about Aurthur that way. You're old too, you know.”
Tangerine playfully rolls his eyes and sits down on the couch and pulls you close to him.
He laughs to himself as he pulls the plethora of blankets over you and him.
“We're going to die of heat exertion under this many blankets.”
“I'm already in constant heat exertion when I'm around you.” You say, looking up at Tangerine and fluttering your eyelashes. “Come on, put on the game.”
Tangerine smiles to himself as he turns the television on and leans his head on yours.
--------------------------------------
West Ham ended up winning, as predicted, but even after the game was finished, the two of you sat there, you still in his arms, not saying anything, just simply being with each other.
“I'm tired.” You yawn as you snuggle closer into Tangerine's chest.
“Sleep then, love. We can stay in here.”
“You sure? We can go to the room instead if you want to.”
“I'm sure,” Tangerine assures.
You smile and look back up at him. “I love you, Tan.”
“I love you too.” Tangerine brings your left hand up to his lips and kisses it, then moving up your jaw, peppering kisses along your face as you giggled before finally letting his land on your lips.
