Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cold. Sharp frozen needles broke through every inch of his body. Pain. The wounds that ran all over his body screamed tirelessly, reminding him that no matter how much silence there was around him, he would never be at peace.

Itches. His skin, hardened like leather from the burns, yet extremely sensitive, itched and itched uncontrollably. The bandages, damp and fetid from the putrid blood that had soaked them for too long, had become part of his very being, fused with his quivering, decaying flesh. Every second of his existence became torture.

The nitrogen from the cryo pod, which had barely started to run, acted like a blade against his single eye, exposed and unable to protect it, eyelidless. He had already lost one, and the possibility of finally going blind would have been almost a blessing in the past. The only one with whom he could still witness everything he had once held dear was destroyed, because of him.

His responsability.

The word that revolved in his mind, tirelessly, like a flock of vultures flying over the corpse of an animal that stopped fighting. If only...he had taken responsability his position as a captain confered upon him...

Jimmy.

How could it happen? His friend, whom he has shared countless memories since childhood, the one he considered almost like a brother, now lies at the floor of that metallic coffin he used to call home: the Tulpar. His brains, scattered along with his blood on the floor, dripped through the metal grid that covered the liquid nitrogen cylinders, the gas flaying away what remained of his skin, his eye, and the very essence of his being.

There was nothing he could have done to stop him from taking his own life. And honestly, after everything that man had done… he still had doubts about if Jimmy deserved it or of it should had been his brains that should be scattered on the floor instead. The hand that had carried out the nightmare he had lived through had been Jimmy… but it had undoubtedly been his fault.

I hope this hurts, Jim.

If only he had been able to act like the captain he is supposed to be, this would have been avoided. Or at least minimised. Anya warned him... but he was unable to face reality.

That damned dead pixel.

It was always there, there for all to see, in the landscape that accompanied them and gave them that false sense of naturalness, as if they were still on planet Earth. Beautiful landscapes, that made him remember moments of his life enjoying the outdoors, together with his loved ones. Even there, in the Tulpar. Those countless sleepless nights when he and Anya would sit and enjoy each other's company, when the barriers between captain and nurse blurred and they became just two souls lost in the vastness of outer space, united by that shitty job that, well, paid the bills, but in return it took away what little will to live he still had left..... At least, before it all happened. Right now, he would give anything to go back to those times when his biggest worry was feeling trapped in his career. Times when he proudly wore the Pony Express uniform, even though he felt his time there was dragging on too long, resigning himself to being nothing more than a space truck driver with urges of being something more. Times in which, despite everything, he still had some hope.

But he was never able to see the dead pixel. As a captain, he was used to manage through the big picture of events, but the details escaped him. Or at least, that's what he wanted to think, to excuse himself. Because the truth is that if he had been a little more open-minded, that night when Anya asked him about the locks, about the dead pixel, he should have been able to put the concepts together and realise what was going on, what she had wanted to tell him.
Security.

That which he took so much for granted, but which Anya desperately wished she could have. That he should had given her, but wasn't able to. Because of Jimmy.
How could he had been so blind? During all those conversations, Jimmy was present, in one way or another. But he always played it down. The off-color comments? Simple jokes, dark humour. His angry outbursts? Well, Jimmy was like that. He had them with him too, even though they'd been best friends since they were kids. Jimmy wouldn't hold back when it came to yelling at him or throwing anything he did in his face. Even at his birthday party, he didn't skimp on letting him know what he thought of him in front of the whole crew. But he wasn't a bad guy. Jimmy was just Jimmy.

Not even when Anya confessed that she was pregnant was he able to do what he had to do. He knew it was more serious than that, that it had not been consensual. But...

Kills 99.9% of all germs.

His skin stung. He felt something nibbling at him through the bandages, piercing his flesh and feeding on him. More than pain, it was a constant discomfort, eating away at him endlessly until it consumed him completely. Parasites that although he could not see, he could feel all over his body. He refused to act when he saw what was happening around him, but now that he couldn't move to check it, they would be the ones to remind him of everything he didn't do when he still could. The larvae of his guilt, or perhaps an infection that not even that icy pod was able to neutralise.

Completely still. For the past few months, he had been strapped to a cot, passively witnessing the consequences of his actions. Some he could see directly, with his only eye. Others, he could only imagine from overhearing distant conversations. Arguments, screams, blood. The mute witness to the barbarism Jimmy committed under his tyranny as acting captain. As one by one, all the members of his crew fell in front of him. As Daisuke crawled from the ventilation shaft, which Swansea had so often warned him of its danger, until he met his death. How Jimmy had taken the gun, hidden in the med bay, to end Swansea's life.

How Anya had decided to choose her own destiny and die by her own hand.

Anya, the one who had spent so many hours with him, with whom he had formed a bond that went beyond words. When he was still healthy, they had a unique complicity. Their sleepless nights gave them the opportunity to bare their souls to each other, sharing glances, building trust through seemingly inconsequential but meaningful conversations. To anyone else's eyes, they were two co-workers chatting amicably in the evening. But to them, it was that small moment in the day when they could dream of a life that meant something more.

In those months on the cot, dismembered, stripped of all possibility of independence, Anya had been his beacon. Not only did he have her to thank for saving his life, despite the ship's lack of resources and the nurse's own lack of experience. But she had been his companion, the only thing that gave him any peace during the endless months he lay on his deathbed.

More than once he thought about talking openly to Anya about his feelings for her. But he never took the step.

Still. As he always ended up being. The passivity that had led him to end up where he was right now. He didn't take sides when he could. Cruel fate forced him to deny him the possibility of ever taking sides again, ever again..

Curly wondered how much more he could take. Whether it would be his body or his mind that would succumb first. Bite to bite, he felt his essence fade away. The cold embrace of death would be too sweet for him. He deserved nothing but pain, in the icy hell he had condemned himself to. For allowing Jimmy to set foot on his ship. For letting Anya be consumed by him. For Daisuke, so young, so full of life that Jimmy's viperous tongue led to disaster. For Swansea. Old companion on countless journeys, to whom life had given a second chance. A chance snatched away by him, and by Jim. A family that would be left without a son, without a father.

Darkness loomed over her mind, consuming him. The cryo pod was paying off, and soon Curly would be no different than a frozen, outdated piece of meat in an industrial freezer.
He would have 20 years of sleep left, perhaps eternal. The chances of being rescued were almost non-existent. Still, in his last gasp before succumbing to the ice, Anya's smile lit up his mind.

For a moment, he believed that the darkest moments would not define who he was.
But the parasites were busy reminding him that there would be no redemption for him.