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—
7 DAYS BEFORE THE CRASH
—
“Well,” Curly looked and sounded as though he was trying not to chuckle. “I can see the issue.”
Swansea pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head slowly. “The kid was brought on just to make me suffer.” he groaned. He ignored the pouty look said kid sent his way.
“I was just trying to fix the vent!” Daisuke retorted, struggling against the foam. “How did that trigger the emergency foam??”
“Because yer talented in all the wrong ways.” Swansea snapped. He turned to face his Captain. “I woulda dealt with this, but only you can unlock the axe case. Every goddamn thing has to go through you.” he added bitterly.
Curly sighed. He sounded exhausted. “I'll handle it. Hang in there, Daisuke.”
Daisuke perked up, wriggling in the foam. “No, no, I got this, Captain-” he grunted as he tried to free his arms, screwing his eyes shut and creasing his eyebrows with the effort. Before long, he was huffing and puffing, the foam still in place. He shrunk a little when Swansea gave him what he assumed was a disapproving look.
“He ain't got it.” Swansea sighed. “Go get the axe.”
Before long, Curly had acquired the axe and was hacking away at the foam. He was careful with his swings, but Swansea noticed Daisuke would flinch every time Curly cut the foam closest to him. Eventually, the foam had enough room for Daisuke to break himself free.
“Yeowch!” the kid yelped after he pulled one of his limbs free in a particularly harsh way, shaking excess foam out of his dumb-looking button-up. “Oof. Strong stuff, huh?”
“Get it through your goddamn skull! That vent is strictly off limits!” Swansea uncrossed his arms to give Daisuke a light smack on his forearm. “Fully fuckin' collapsed inside! You looking to get impaled, electrocuted and cooked?!”
“Yeah, but like…” Daisuke put on a faux naive act, smiling and looking up at the ceiling. Oh no. Swansea knew that look. “You can't fit in there to fix it, right?”
Swansea narrowed his eyes at Daisuke. Almost immediately, his bravado faltered, and he shrunk a little. Through the corner of his eye, he could see Curly pursing his lips, tapping the tips of his fingers together rhythmically.
“…So I can totally handle it-” Daisuke continued awkwardly, but Swansea interrupted him.
“Captain.” he turned to face Curly. “Give me the axe.”
“Well! My job here is done.” Curly said swiftly, handing the axe to Swansea and clapping his hands together. “This could've damaged the pods, Swansea. See to it that it doesn't happen again.” he ordered.
“Yeah, yeah… I got it. Loud and clear.” Swansea grumbled.
“Keep the axe until you've cleaned this all up, yeah?” Curly said, before twirling around on one foot and marching off almost robotically.
“Damn right I will.” Swansea muttered under his breath. “I coulda done a better job than that.”
Curly stopped and turned back to look at him. “Yeah, but you're not the captain, are you?” he replied airily, with an almost playful undertone.
Swansea huffed, smiling a little despite himself. “…Guess not.”
It was only when Curly hurried away to deal with the next problem that Swansea noticed Daisuke had gone quiet, still standing silently in front of the broken up emergency foam, fidgeting with his hands.
“I'm sorry.” he murmured, looking at the ground.
“You're in one piece, ain't ya?” Swansea replied gruffly.
“I know, but…” Daisuke sighed. “I shouldn't have done it. You told me like twenty times to leave that vent alone 'cuz it was dangerous and I-”
“Quit your yammerin'.” Swansea walked back to his work table, where the circuit board he was using to teach Daisuke stood. “What's done is done. Just get your lazy bum back to work.”
Daisuke swayed on his feet, now looking at Swansea. “So… we're cool now?”
Swansea rolled his eyes. “…Sure, kiddo. We are “cool”.”
Daisuke nodded hurriedly, smiling a little. “Cool. Cool. Cool cool cool.” he skipped over to Swansea's side, practically throwing himself onto the revolving chair next to him and taking a celebratory spin in it. “Alright, boss, let's get this bread!”
Swansea suppressed a groan. At least the kid wasn't being a downer, even if that meant he'd zone out completely for the next half hour while he tried to teach him.
—
2 MONTHS AFTER THE CRASH
—
“It's… this is…” James mumbles incredulously.
“Mouthwash?” Anya's eyes are wide.
“Un-fucking-believable.”
Swansea really, truly cannot believe it. Over fifteen years of hauling ass for this fucking company, and the last thing he's shipping before being laid off is mouthwash.
“There's gotta be an ocean of the stuff in here…” Daisuke breathes. “This room looks freakin' endless!”
“This is what they'd have five people hauling for over a year?” James growls, balling his fists. “All of this… for mouthwash?!”
Anya picks up a bottle, turning it around to read the label. “The sugar content probably offsets any potential as a disinfectant…” she notes quietly.
Swansea perks up at that. “Disinfectant?” he parrots. “What are you- let me see that!”
Swansea snatches the bottle out of Anya's hands, skimming through the ingredients. Clear as day, he can see the content that matters most.
“…Fourteen percent ethanol.” he reads. “…Hah. Hahahahah!”
Daisuke awkwardly laughs along with him. “I s'pose we'll smell good, at least…?” he tries.
“That's right, kiddo!” Swansea grins harder than he's ever grinned in over a decade. “You can bet your ass on that!”
He hurries to snap open the bottle and doesn't even hesitate before bringing it to his lips and chugging. Anya's eyes widen in horror.
“W-what are you doing?!” she stutters, moving her hands forward and back like she's trying to decide whether to try forcing the bottle out of Swansea's hands. “Stop that!”
Swansea lowers the nearly empty bottle with a gasp, welcoming the refreshing feeling of inebriation that washes over him. It's like he's a couple pounds lighter.
“Wheeeeew-wheeeee! Ohhh, shut up.” he slurs. “I'm just an old codger taking care of his dental hygiene!” Swansea puts a hand up to his ear. “Y'hear that? That's the sound of fifteen years of sobriety poppin' like a cyst. A glorious, magnificent, red-hot cyst! Good riddance and cheers! To Captain Curly! Hear, hear!”
Even tipsy, he doesn't miss the way James seethes when he refers to Curly as if he's still the captain of the Tulpar. Neither does he miss the way Daisuke is eyeing the cargo contemplatively.
“Guess anyone could get seriously blasted off this stuff.” he muses.
“Yeah, and kill you in the process.” James snaps.
“This can't be real.” Anya moans, head in her hands. “I- There's no way…”
“Now we can go out in style!” Swansea reaches down to grab a couple more bottles of mouthwash. Not even Anya makes an attempt to stop him, too engrossed in her existential dread to fuckin' live a little. “Daisuke! Come here! Anyone ever teach you how to drink like a man?”
Daisuke purses his lips, suddenly looking very awkward. “…Elaborate.” he prompts. He doesn't seem all that excited (an unusual sight, really), but Swansea is getting too drunk to care.
“Whaaaat, didn't you attend any o' them college parties?” Swansea swings an arm around Daisuke, dragging the poor sod to his side. He tenses up slightly, but relaxes when he notices Swansea isn't reprimanding him about anything. “The trick is to relax and hold your breath while you tip yer drink back!”
“I never really drank all that much in college, to be honest.” Daisuke admits, gripping his left arm with his right hand. He's not looking at him.
“There's a first time for everything, eh?” Swansea smiles. “C'mon, boy, pop one open!”
Though visibly hesitant, Daisuke opens the bottle. He stares at it for a while like he's weighing his options, before his previously vaguely worried expression shifts into a serious, emboldened one, and he takes a surprisingly hearty sip, scrunching his face in distaste almost immediately after. He opens and closes his mouth like a dog who just ate a spoonful of peanut butter.
“I don't think I wanna drink more of this, boss.” he says, frowning. “It's real sweet, and it's making me feel queasy.”
“That's how you know it's workin' , kiddo!” Swansea laughs. “C'mon, what kinda man are ya if you can't handle your alcohol?”
Daisuke eyes the mouthwash dubiously. “…If you say so.”
He takes another sip, less hesitant this time. Then another. And another. He keeps taking intermittent sips until the bottle is over halfway empty. That's when he finally stops, breathing heavily, still with that disgusted expression he made when he had his first taste.
“Attaboy!” Swansea cheers, giving the kid a firm pat on the back. “That's how ya do it!”
Daisuke's smile doesn't reach his eyes, but Swansea is too drunk to notice how truly unhappy his intern looks.
—
1 MONTH BEFORE THE CRASH
—
“Yes! Got another one!” Anya cheered, pumping her fist in the air. “Only one more to go!”
“Whoa!” Daisuke gasped. “You're way too good at this game!”
Swansea watched as the Tulpar's crew grouped around the table, excitedly playing some board game he personally couldn't care less about. He'd much rather watch everyone's reactions.
Their dear ol' Captain Curly was a massive stickler for the rules, unsurprisingly. Any deviation had him going on little polite rants that Daisuke had dubbed his “erm, actually” moments, but in the end either the intern or their nurse could convince him to be a little more lenient. He always ended up valuing everyone having fun over the rules, anyways.
Daisuke liked to bend the rules to his whim a little, which occasionally brought their Captain's stickler side out. He was damn good at making his made up version of the rules sound legit, too. Anya was pretty intense when the crew played board games, but she always allowed Daisuke to have his fun. It was never not amusing seeing one of Daisuke's made up rules conflicting with the actual rules Curly remembered at the top of his head and watching the Captain's brain fry as he tried to find out if he was remembering wrong or if Daisuke was messing with him. One of the things that made it more fun for Swansea to watch than to play.
James was objectively bad at most games, plain and simple. Unlike Daisuke, he'd actively make up new rules on the spot just to make himself seem like he sucked less. He and Curly seemed to butt heads more frequently than anyone else. With how annoyed James got, Swansea had to wonder how their friendship was still intact - or how they were even friends in the first place.
Anya, on the other hand, was a beast. Never got into minor rule-breaking problems with Curly, and almost always dominated the leaderboard. Daisuke had only ever overtaken her twice, while Curly only did so once. She seemed especially skilled at the game they were playing at that moment, too, which explained why she was absolutely annihilating the board. Maybe a little too much for some people.
“Whoops! Sorry!” Anya winked and stuck her tongue out playfully after yet another clever play. The nurse had a knack for games, especially board ones. She even got mad a couple times before when Daisuke or Curly snatched the win from her on different board games.
Though not as mad as James did, apparently.
“Fuck!” James slammed his first on the table, making his pawns fall and the other players' pawns rattle. Anya nearly jumped out of her skin, while Daisuke shrunk back in his seat, pursing his lips.
“Jimmy, there's no need to-” Curly began carefully.
“Fuck this game.” James snapped, getting up from his seat and storming out of the lounge. Swansea's eyes followed his outburst like a hawk. How damn temperamental could their so-called “copilot” be? If this was what he was like playing a goddamn board game, Swansea wouldn't trust him behind the wheel of the ship, that's for sure.
Curly audibly sighed. “I'll go get him.” he made a move to get up, yawning. It was getting quite late.
“Don't bother, Cap.” Daisuke rolled his eyes. “He can sore-loser it up someplace else if he wants.”
“Well, looks like we're one player short.” Anya shrugged, not looking all that bothered. “Wanna start where Jimmy left off, Swansea?”
“Nah.” he waved her off. “It'll prolly just piss me off.”
“Well, we can always just pack up.” Curly suggested. “It's getting late.”
“You're just saying that because I was one card away from winning.” Anya implied, smiling cheekily.
“No way!” Curly laughed. “I was about to catch up to you!”
“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night, Captain.” Anya teased.
Curly rolled his eyes. “You guys can do whatever you want, then. I concede. It's getting late, and as your captain I need to be up early tomorrow.”
“Aw, it's no fun without Captain Curly and his “erm, actually” moments.” Daisuke lamented. “I'm gonna crash. See y’all tomorrow!”
“Well, my opponents all quit, so it sounds like I win again!” Anya chuckled. “Undefeated Sorry Champion, baby!”
“Shouldn't ya head off to bed as well, nurse Anya?” Swansea teased when he noticed Anya relaxing into one of the couches on the lounge alongside him. “It is quite late, and you never know when someone in this ship's gonna need your care.”
Anya's smile faltered a little. “Ah. Hm. Maybe later. I'm not feeling very sleepy right now.”
“Suit yourself.” Swansea shrugged. “I'll be stayin' here for a while as well, anyways. Some of this newer tech may confuse me, but I do think this big ol' monitor is kinda pretty at this time of night.”
“I wish I could say the same.” Anya huffed out a small laugh. “I haven't been able to fall for the illusion ever since I noticed a dead pixel on the screen. It just completely shattered it for me, really.”
“Is that so?” Swansea strained his eyes, scanning the screen top to bottom.
Huh.
There was a dead pixel. Right there, on the upper right corner of the monitor, where most people wouldn't notice it unless they were looking right at it.
He could feel the illusion breaking for him, too.
—
4 MONTHS AFTER THE CRASH
—
Swansea stumbles out of the lounge, the alcohol hitting his fifteen years of sobriety hard. The screen in front of him glitches with the perpetual sunset background, that damn dead pixel still haunting him. Has it become bigger since the crash? Or is Swansea just drawn to it now?
The muffled groaning coming from the nearby corridor snaps him out of his trance long enough that he notices a familiar yellow shirt and hot pink button-up combo sprawled across the floor, still attached to its mopey owner. He follows the sound.
“Daisuke?” Swansea taps the kid's shoulder with his foot. Like hell he's crouching right now; with his age, he might very well never get up again. “You awake, kid?”
Daisuke groans again, but he moves his hand out of his face to look at Swansea through narrowed eyes.
“Aw, man.” he chuckles, but there's no humor in it. “What awful timing, boss. I'm not feeling too hot right now.”
“Get up from the floor, kid.” Swansea prompts gently. “Ain't no use moping around. The least you could do is have some fun before the hangover kicks you in the dick.”
Daisuke laughs again, this time sounding a little amused. “Oh, but what's the point?” he groans, fighting against his own body to get up from the floor. “We're stranded in the middle of space, with dwindling rations, a skinned, barely alive ex-captain, and all of our cargo consists of thousands and thousands of fucking mouthwash!”
He's so angry. Swansea had never seen him angry. Awkward? Yeah. Sad? Once in a while. Stubbornly happy? Always. He'd even seen him be passive-aggressive towards James once or twice before. But angry? Never.
“I didn't even want to be here!” he spits, voice cracking, as it does, at the worst moments. “I shoulda had a stable 9 to 5 back on Earth, but instead I was just cruisin' on life, wasting my parents' time and money at home like some freeloader! I'm such a fucking failure my mom had to find me an internship so I could actually do something with my life! And look where that got me!”
Swansea doesn't know if it's the alcohol in his veins talking, but he's more taken aback than he thought he should be. He should have never influenced Daisuke into drinking. Where has his unshakeable optimism gone? With the lounge monitor broken, he's the only fucking light they have in this ship now, Swansea can't let him-
Swansea cuts off his own rapidly derailing train of thought when he notices the tears streaming down Daisuke's reddened face.
“I miss my mom.” he sniffles, furiously wiping at his eyes.
“Oh, kiddo.” Swansea spreads his arms wide, ignoring the way his voice cracks at the sight of his intern. “C'mere.”
Daisuke hugs Swansea like he's never hugged anyone before, like he's needed to hug someone for months. He shakes and sobs and trembles, and Swansea pretends like he doesn't notice any of it.
“I'm s-sorry I yelled.” he sobs quietly, hugging Swansea so tight it's like he's trying to crack his back. “I-I'm- I'm really tired. This feels so awful.”
“Whiny little brat.” Swansea addresses the mess of a kid in his arms like he's giving him a compliment, patting his shuddering back with one hand. “You're worse than my kids back home.”
Still, Swansea allows Daisuke to cry into his chest, even as the kid stains his shirt with snot and tears that Swansea is desperately trying to pretend aren't there.
It's not like either of them is going to remember this conversation later, anyway.
—
2 MONTHS BEFORE THE CRASH
—
Daisuke had been remembering details from the times Swansea had attempted to teach him, somewhat. That much was obvious. He still didn't know enough that Swansea would ever allow him around a busted vent (especially not the one in utility), but he was learning, probably. And that was a good sign.
For now, though, he simply sent the kid to wipe down the inside of a vent while he tried to fix the one in utility. Sue him. The brat was thin and lanky, something Swansea hasn't been able to relate to in decades, and he was surprisingly meticulous at that task specifically. He wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially when said horse seemed to have two left legs when it came to everything else.
A sudden yelp startled Swansea out of his mindless wiring. He put his tools down with a resigned sigh, not even bothering to take off his welding gloves before he made his way out towards where the noise came from. He was soon faced with Daisuke, clutching his right hand with his left one.
“Ow, ow, ow… That hurt…” he hissed quietly.
“What happened to you, kid?” Swansea asked, more like a sigh than a question.
“Weeeell, I was cleaning that vent like you told me,” Daisuke began, looking away sheepishly. “but then a wire snapped, and it went, like, krzzzt! And I wasn't fast enough to get outta the way, so now I got an electrical burn, I guess.”
Swansea sighed irritably. That kid was going to be the death of him someday.
“You and the goddamn vents. Gimme yer hand.” he snapped. Daisuke did as he said. “Gotta check how badly you messed up before sendin' you off to our nurse.”
“Do you think it'll leave a mark?” Daisuke asked, tilting his head at the reddened flaky skin. If Swansea didn't know any better, he'd say the kid sounded hopeful.
“I don't give a damn, kid.” Swansea grumbled, twisting Daisuke's hand around to assess the damage. “Now keep still, will ya? Gotta do everything 'round here…”
—
8 HOURS UNTIL JUDGEMENT
—
Daisuke whines pitifully, writhing in pain in his bed, tears streaming down his face. Every attempt Swansea makes to calm him down and stank his bleeding fails miserably.
“I said keep still, kiddo!” Swansea snaps, hoping the rugged tone masks the lilt of genuine concern in his voice. “How the hell am I supposed to help you if you keep squirming and mewling like a newborn kit?!”
Daisuke cries harder when Swansea presses on the left side of his stomach as gently as he can. He's losing too much blood. 'Where the hell is that shoddy excuse for a captain?!'
“Mgh… 'm s'rry…” he sniffles, breaths coming out quick and ragged with the effort to keep his clear panic under control. Swansea thinks he's never sounded more like a little kid. He hates it. “I-I'm so…rry…”
Swansea's eyes widen in surprise. Even now, he's apologizing? As if he's suffering wrong? He huffs in annoyance.
“Fuck're you apologizing for? Ain't no reason for you to be talkin' to me like you snuck into the pantry n' ate all the cookies without permission.” he replies lightly.
This doesn't calm his panic. If anything, it makes him look even tinier, with the way he winces and scrunches up his face in pain.
“I'm sorry…” he repeats in a pathetic croak, struggling to form a coherent sentence. “I m-messed… up… mgh…”
“It's alright, Daisuke.” Swansea soothes. “Calm down.”
Daisuke sniffs particularly hard, blinking away tears. “J-Jimmy said… He said you… y-you'd be proud… i-if I went 'n climbed in that vent t-to help Anya…”
Of course. It all goes back to James, doesn't it?
“That rat fuck.” Swansea curses under his breath. “'Course he'd say that.”
“But she… sh-she was…” Daisuke's breathing gets quicker, sharper. His eyes glaze over with unshed tears.
“Hey, hey.” Swansea gives him a gentle pat on his right shoulder, the one place he knows he doesn't have a bloodied gash or an electrical burn on. “Don't think about that right now. Try to breathe. You're gonna be fine.”
Swansea has children, so he's lied plenty. And he's damn good at it, too, because Daisuke seems to be trying to control his breathing again, chest rising and falling much more rhythmically than before.
It isn't long before James decides to grace them with his presence, completely empty handed.
“…Where's the disinfectant, James?” he asks lowly.
“There's no more.” he says simply. “We'll have to make do with the mouthwash.”
There's nothing funny about the situation, yet Swansea laughs heartily. “So you mean to tell me that the bottle of disinfectant that you used to get me hammered was the last one?!” he yells.
“I'm sorry…” like a broken record, Daisuke's wavering voice pops up. “I-it's my faul-”
“No!” he snaps, louder than intended. He can't ignore the boiling rage festering within him. “No the fuck it isn't, kid! You're just a people pleasing intern who's manipulated just easily enough for this useless fucking idiot's schemes!”
James glares at him, the red warning lights that reflect off of his dark eyes making the stare somehow look even more hateful. However, instead of any kind of rebuttal, he stomps off - like a fucking infant - and heads towards the storage area. Good riddance, Swansea says. Not like he fucking needed him there anyways.
Daisuke is quiet, too quiet. He can barely feel him breathing even as he uses his hands to stank the bleeding, but he can tell there's something on his mind, because he always fidgets with his hands when he has something to ask but he's too much of a people pleaser to ask it.
“Are you mad at me…?”
His voice is so meek, so tiny, Swansea hardly recognizes it as the boisterous young lad that set out to make his life hell all those months ago. He stares at him for what feels like decades before answering.
“I could never.” he reassures him, finally.
—
3 MONTHS BEFORE THE CRASH
—
Great. Just what Swansea needed. Some brat sharing a room with him who can't fucking sit still when he's sleeping. God bless Pony Express's corner-cutting, eh?
Because of course they had to add the kid last minute. Of course he had to be an intern under him, too. Of fucking course.
Daisuke stopped fidgeting, and for a brief second, Swansea wondered if his inner complaints caused the problem to resolve itself.
But of course, it's never that easy.
“Hey boss, you awake?” Daisuke whispered.
Even better! The brat's feeling chatty now! At God knows what time of the night! This is rich. Just rich.
“No.” Swansea grumbled, burying his face into his too-soft pillow.
Daisuke snickered at his reply. “You could've just not said anything.”
“So you can keep tossin' and turnin' and disturbin' my sleep? No way in hell, kid.” he replied, voice muffled by the pillow. “Maybe if you yap at me you'll be quieter, somehow.”
“You mean yap to you.” Daisuke corrected cheekily.
“Nope. “At”. 'Cuz I ain't replying.” Swansea clarified, turning away from him.
Daisuke huffed dramatically. “Hmph! Fine. I can entertain myself, easy.”
And man, the kid was not kidding. He started talking, about nothing, about anything, asking him the dumbest fucking questions about the shit he was supposed to be learning. He'd only answer some of them in the hopes it'd shut him up. It never did. It just fueled the fire.
“Do you play Pokémon?” he asked at one point. “Actually, that's kind of a dumb question- no way you play Pokémon, you're like, ancient-”
“You're gettin' outta topic.”
“Right, right. Have you, I dunno, seen your kids play Pokémon? You… have kids, right?”
“Y'know, you're startin' to piss me off now.” Swansea warned.
“What's your favorite Pokémon? From those you've seen?”
“…There was this dog one-”
“Very specific, boss.”
“I was getting to it. It had real shaggy fur, and it was cream and blue, I think. Kinda looked like a terrier.”
“Oh, I know what you mean- it's from the Lilipup line!”
“Ah, I remember now. My kids kept using that lil' critter in their team 'cause I told them I liked what it turned into once.”
“Ohhh, Herdier! Yeah, you look like you'd like Herdier!”
“But every time I mentioned that, they'd tell me I looked like another one. Funny, it was also a dog. Kinda looked like a lilac bulldog thing?”
“Granbull?!” Daisuke practically whisper-shouted, wheezing softly under his breath. “Your kids are so right, Swansea, you look exactly like it! Haha!”
“What's so funny? Is that Granbull thing bad or something?”
“No, no- haha, Granbull's great!”
“You're cacklin' like a whole pack of hyenas, so I'm not too convinced.”
“I'm not! I swear I'm-”
“Daisuke, are you tryna distract yourself from something?”
Daisuke's laughter died down immediately.
“No.” he replied unconvincingly.
“It's fine to need a distraction, kiddo.” Swansea sighed. “I just wish your methods were less noisy.”
“Well, I was just…” Daisuke took a slightly shaky breath. “I was feeling a little down in the dumps, y'know? Missing home, or whatever. Sorry for the bother.”
“It's fine, kid.” Swansea assured. “We all get a case of the blues sometimes, 'specially in missions like these. It's only an issue if it happens all the time.”
“Okay.” he whispered. “Okay, cool. Good to know.”
Daisuke was still in his bed, and he stayed silent for a long enough time that Swansea assumed the conversation was over. Finally. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift-
“Psst. Swansea.”
Swansea screwed his eyes shut in irritation. “You're wearin' my name thin, kiddo.”
“Those, uh… what're they called? Cryostable pods?”
“Cryostasis.”
“Yeah, that. What do you think it's like to be inside one?” Daisuke questioned.
“I'm sure it's just like falling asleep.” Swansea lied. He had no idea what they felt like - he never had the displeasure of needing one.
“…Will we need 'em?” Daisuke's voice was quieter now.
“Not if everything goes according to plan.” Swansea answered truthfully.
“But there's only… four of them.” Daisuke pointed out, weirdly meek. “What could we do about that, if… if something bad happens?”
“I'm sure ol' Jimbo wouldn't mind taking one for the team.” Swansea chuckled.
Daisuke tried to muffle the surprised laugh that bubbled out of him. “Swansea! That's mean!”
“I'm mean. It comes with bein' in your sixties.”
“Oh, yeah?! Well, I'm gonna be the nicest sixty year old when I grow up, just to prove you wrong!” Daisuke laughed, bright as sunshine and just as warm.
“Good luck with that, kid.” Swansea barked out a laugh of his own. “Aging changes a person.”
The kid went silent again. He'd chatted so much at that point, Swansea just assumed he was thinking about something.
“Spit it out, kid.” he pressed. “I can tell you're thinkin'.”
“…Do you think it'll all be okay?” Daisuke whispered back after a few seconds of hesitation.
What was Swansea supposed to say to that?
“…Go to sleep, kid.” he sighed. “You're thinking too much for that tiny noggin o' yours.”
“But I'm not tired!” Daisuke whined in response. Twenty something years old, and still no less whiny than a toddler. Swansea wanted to laugh.
“Really?”
“Really! Trust!”
A yawn betrayed the kid's words immediately. Swansea felt himself smile in amusement.
“…Okay maybe a little.” Daisuke admitted. “But I could totally stay awake longer if I wanted to. I just don't wanna. 'Cuz tomorrow's a long day and you'll be annoyed at me if I don't pay attention.”
“I'm sure.” Swansea replied lazily, rolling his eyes even though he knew Daisuke couldn't see him. “Now close your damn eyes n' sleep, or I'll be the one chewin' your ear off tomorrow for a change.”
“Fiiiine.” Daisuke complained lightheartedly. “G'night, boss!”
Swansea was silent for a while. The air of this conversation was too familiar for his liking, sounded a little too much like late nights with his kids, trying to get them to sleep. At least, hopefully, Daisuke would be the slightest bit more attentive in the morning.
“…G'night, kid.” he sighed, turning to face the wall instead.
—
6 HOURS UNTIL JUDGEMENT
—
“…The bleeding won't stop.” James says grimly, staring at Daisuke's battered body, an empty bottle of mouthwash in his hands. “Just try to stay still, Daisuke. I-I need a second to think. We can fix this.”
“Hey, kid.” Swansea calls out softly. “You hear me?”
“…Mrgh… Uuurgh…?” Daisuke opens his half-lidded eyes a little more, like he's waking up from a nap.
“Daisuke?” he tries again, relaxing a little when the kid turns his head slowly to face him. His heart drops when he begins coughing erratically.
The axe's dulled blade drags over the ground with a screech when Swansea pulls it towards himself. James visibly tenses up. He knows what's about to happen, but he still can't fathom that it's his fault.
“Hey! Stop, stop, stop!” he yells, expression immediately turning panicked. “Don't move!”
And yet, James makes no move to actually take the axe away from him. What a fucking joke of an authority figure. Swansea grips the axe tighter to stop himself from swinging it at him right then and there.
“…This line of work.” Swansea murmurs, almost to himself. “You could have never become like miserable ol' Swansea. What a tragedy.”
He thinks of the Daisuke from the start of the trip, clumsy and naive and just so, so bright. A version of the poor sop he never thought he'd miss, free of blood and full of optimism, of hope that it would all be okay.
“Decades of hauling ass for Pony Express, big mighty bruiser with all his shiny tools.” Swansea's eyes drop to his axe. He can't keep looking at Daisuke in his battered state for long. “This is where it got me. The good life, huh?”
Daisuke says nothing. The room is quiet, save for the pained gasps and uneven breathing. It's unnerving, Swansea finds, to be in a room with Daisuke and have him be so quiet.
In contrast, Swansea can't help but keep talking. He's prepared to rave and rant until Daisuke settles down, or until he can't tell if he's trying to soothe the dying kid in front of him or himself. Whatever comes first, he supposes.
“I thought you were dumber than a can of paint, always just chewing my ear off about nothing.” Swansea laughs humorlessly, graciously ignoring the crack in his voice. He can feel James's gaze burning into him. “Useless ray of goddamn sunshine. Not an ace student, career workhorse or force of ambition. Just a damn good kid trying his best.”
He goes silent, expecting Daisuke to react in some way, to beam at the praise, to do something, anything. He doesn't. He just stares at him, still trembling, still whimpering, still absolutely terrified.
“…You coulda taught an old fool like me a lot.” Swansea adds finally.
Daisuke is still far too quiet, but his lips curl up ever so slightly, and for just a moment, his eyes shine with the life he's fated to lose. Bright like the sun itself, and it hurts just as much to keep looking. He blinks slowly at Swansea, face dropping once more.
“I'm tired.” he finally murmurs, almost a whisper, and Swansea can't help but imagine one of his sons saying it during a late night.
Swansea sighs like it's the last time he'll ever do so. “Close your eyes, Daisuke.” he asks gently, as if lulling his own to sleep.
Daisuke gives him one last look of exhaustion and acceptance through rounded, wet eyes before he closes them for the last time. Still, Swansea can see him trembling, just slightly.
Gravity increases as Swansea lifts the axe, forcing himself not to grow distracted by Daisuke's panicked breaths, trying not to think about how young he looks, even when his face is splattered with blood.
He brings the axe down. His shaking hands make the swing uneven, but the job is done all the same.
The blaring emergency screen glows bright red in the room, but all Swansea sees is gray.
—
4 MONTHS BEFORE THE CRASH
—
“They could've at least tried to give some color to this damned place.” Swansea complained as he toured the battered Tulpar with his Captain, staring unimpressed at the shoddily painted achromatic walls. “Those fancy-shmancy screens ain't enough to drown out this lifeless paint job.”
“Don't be such a downer.” Curly sighed. “You're acting like this is your first time on board.”
Swansea took a few quick looks into the sleeping quarters. “At least the sleeping quarters look the same. Still no locks, though. Damn this company and its corner-cuttin'.” Swansea stopped in front of one of the rooms and looked in, confused. “…Why's there an extra bed in my usual room?”
“About that…” Curly took on that tone Swansea recognized as “has possibly unpleasant news but doesn't know how to deliver them”. “Um… there may have been a last minute change…? Good news is, you're getting an intern…! Bad news is, Pony Express loves cutting corners, so he's rooming with you.”
Swansea furrowed his brows. “…You're kiddin'.” he deadpanned.
Curly scratched the back of his neck, averting his gaze and laughing awkwardly. “Unfortunately, no.”
Suddenly, a voice Swansea could only describe as “young and impressionable incarnate” cut through the air.
“Whoaaaaaaa… This is just like the Skeld…”
Swansea whipped his head back to look at the source of the noise. It was a young brunette with half-bleached hair, running all over the place like an excited puppy and disregarding the company dress code with that radioactive pink hibiscus button-up he wore over the yellow company-mandated Pony Express shirt. The very definition of bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. He couldn't have been older than 23.
“The what?” Swansea asked, unable to hide his confusion.
“The Skeld!” the kid repeated, as if that made any semblance of sense. “Y'know, like Among Us? No shot you haven't at least heard about it!”
“Kid, what are you on about.” Swansea snapped, glancing at Curly in a silent plea for an explanation. Curly shrugged, looking similarly confused. So much for that. “Who even are you??”
“I'm Daisuke!” the kid chirped, extending his hand in a greeting. “Are you Mr. Swansea? If so, I'm your new intern! Hi!”
“That would be me, yes.” Swansea took Daisuke's hand in a tight hold and shook it firmly. He'd expected the kid to at least be startled by the sudden strength, but he still kept the same ditzy, just-happy-to-be-there smile plastered across his youthful face.
“Cool! I can't wait to learn new things from you!” Daisuke grinned excitedly, bouncing on his feet. Why do all youngsters skip around like they have all the energy of the fucking sun at their disposal? “Is this my room?”
Swansea followed his gaze to his usual room. “Unfortunately.” he grumbled through gritted teeth.
“Aren't you anxious about the launch?” Curly asked.
Daisuke dropped the smile for a second. “…A little.” he admitted sheepishly. “But I'll bounce back! Can't be moping around all the time. It might make it obvious I'm lazy!”
“Maybe you shouldn't admit that in front of your captain.” Curly jabbed playfully.
Daisuke's eyes went wide as saucers. “Y-you're the- oh man, I'm so sorry for running around the place like that, I swear I'm-”
“It's okay, Daisuke.” Curly waved him off lightly. “We're not floating in the middle of space yet. I don't need to be that strict with you right now.”
Daisuke relaxed a little. “Just, uh- pretend I didn't say anything? Please?”
Curly put his fingers into his ears, smiling easily. “My ears are plugged.”
Swansea respected Captain Curly for many reasons, and one of them was that he was young enough to be able to deal with children without immediately losing his cool. Why couldn't Daisuke have been a piloting intern instead?
A digital bell rang through the halls from outside the Tulpar, signaling the last call for all members of the freight ship to get ready to board.
“Oh, it's almost time for launch.” Daisuke realized. “I gotta get my stuff and say goodbye to my parents. I'll be back soon!”
All too energetic, Daisuke dashed away, waving an excited goodbye. Curly returned it politely, while Swansea merely stared at the kid as he turned a corner and disappeared.
“Nice kid.” Curly thought aloud.
“Sure.” Swansea grumbled.
The two walked in silence through the corridors of the spaceship, ready to assume their positions. As they were about to split towards their respective areas, Curly perked up suddenly.
“Oh, I remember now!” he piped up. “Among Us is that game with the little bean guys on a spaceship!”
God help Swansea. He was certainly going to need it.
—
0 HOURS UNTIL JUDGEMENT
—
Dark.
All Daisuke sees is dark. All Daisuke feels is dark. The unbearable coldness of an uncaring void.
Until he opens his eyes. He thinks he does, at least, even though he still only sees dark. That's the void for you, empty and lifeless and all. He shouldn't be surprised.
Distantly, he hears something. It sounds like a peppy song, the same they played at Curly's birthday before it was turned off so they could hear the news from corporate. The sound is distant, yet grating in his ears all the same, but he can tune it out without much effort.
Slowly, hibiscus flowers pave his path, bright pink in a sea of black. If he thinks really hard about it, he can pretend they smell like something. The smell of oil and rubber and cleaning products come to mind first, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
Daisuke follows the flowery trail until he makes out a light in the distance. He's merely walking, but he reaches it in an instant. It's a lake, barren of life besides the hibiscus flowers surrounding it and a single swan by the shore closest to Daisuke. The sun sets further ahead, painting the water with an orange hue.
As he approaches, the swan begins whistling at him, fluffing its feathers and flapping its wings in an attempt to threaten him. Daisuke stops in his tracks, and the swan seems to calm down, like it had reacted out of surprise and not dislike. Its feathers lay low once more, and it climbs into the water, looking at Daisuke expectantly.
As if on cue, a boat appears by the shore. When Daisuke doesn't immediately move to get on, the swan honks, almost in annoyance, and flaps its wings again. Daisuke rolls his eyes with a smile and finally climbs on. It slides into the water seamlessly, as if of its own volition.
Every moment, the sun grows brighter.
The boat moves on its own, carrying Daisuke through the water of the seemingly endless lake, never getting any closer to the other side. The swan swims further ahead, an ivory guide in the pink and orange hues.
The blinding light of the sun is warm and comforting, even as it engulfs the scenery around it. The swan slows to swim at Daisuke's side, the two allowing the sun to envelop them. And for the first time in a while, he feels like he's on Earth again, hugging his mother goodbye before embarking on a trip he would never return from.
The swan nestles against him, and nothing hurts anymore. He knows only warmth, only love.