Space Mark and Y/n, 2 and 6
I wonder if you could go mad looking for that warp core door.
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Prompt 2/6: “I can’t trust you.” / “I can’t remember.”
This time, when the wormhole spat you out, you stumbled from your cryopod and shut the door before slumping against it, slowly sliding to the floor of the bridge. You held up your hands; they were shaking.
You’d died. How many times have you died now? Sucked into the wormhole, left to drift forever. Pulled into a red dwarf, watching your skin melt from your bones as long as you were able to before your eyes liquified in your skull.
And Mark. You looked up to where he was just now emerging from his own cryopod, brushing past crew members busy performing their own tasks. He wore none of the fear, none of the pain, that you had inflicted on him.
What had you done?
“We’re really close! It’s going to be this time, I can feel it-” Mark stopped dead in his tracks. “Captain? Are you alright? You look-”
“You can’t trust me.” The realization hit you; the confession bubbled from your mouth like blood. You looked at him, right into his eyes, like you’d done before you’d made him into one of those corpses floating in the void. How many times has that happened? How many times have you sacrificed him to save the ship?
“What?” Mark’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, I can’t trust you? You’re the captain. You’re my captain.” He extended a hand to help you up, but you refused it, looked at the scuffed metal floor, instead. “All you’ve done is guide us. Help us.”
“You don’t remember?” It came out a whisper. Of course he didn’t remember; what a blessing. He didn’t have to remember the shock of betrayal, or the pain of subsequent death.
Maybe it should stay that way.
Mark smiled. Thrust his hand toward you. “I can’t remember anything but a great captain.”
This time, you took his hand. You needed him, after all.