Chapter Text
Your dreams are varnished with memories, the details muddled and convoluted but so insistent, so vivid. Memories of a life on Darkside that feels both foreign yet familiar. Arduous work and stressful labour, and the instinctual fear of something looming over you, looking over your shoulder. The same feeling that lies within the heart of being a sleeper, fear. Being hunted, sought out.
A rigid schedule, tense deadlines and inadequate compensation for what you do. The purpose for which you were created.
Your mind recalls the stress like a progressively tighter fist, starting off lax before slowly clenching until you can't bear the pressure. You wake up with a slight startle, feeling like someone is drawing their finger across your shoulder but you turn to find nothing. Nobody.
It felt so real.
Your eyes slowly adjust to the darkness of your small room. You breathe a little quickly, the action a misplaced human instinct that serves no purpose to your oxygen-free body. Serafin sleeps upright in the chair next to your bed, his back along the wall with his arms crossed. The position seems uncomfortable. This wasn't the first time in the last few cycles that you'd found Serafin sleeping like this, and no matter how many times you tried telling him to at least go sleep somewhere comfortable, he said he didn't care. Stubborn as always.
The sort of nightmares you'd been having wouldn't leave you alone, and the contents of them always seemed... hazy. Distant, far away, but you always wake up with a sense of déjà vu so strong that it's almost sickening.
You adjust lightly in the bed, trying not to wake up Serafin. He seemed to be in a pretty deep sleep, but you still didn’t want to wake him. You look over to the side of the desk beside your bed, gingerly reaching over and grabbing Serafin’s old watch. It was 04:00, so very early in the cycle. Or late, depending how you looked at it. Looking around some more, you reflect upon everything that’s happened in the last few cycles.
Aside from an overwhelming amount of attention from Bliss and Serafin, Flint had come to see you. Mostly, he just stared at you like he was staring at a ghost. You wanted to check up on him, have a conversation with him, but the past few cycles you’ve been too tired to do any talking. You knew he understood.
Kadet was apparently coming over to stop by, as well. From what Flint told you, her new courier business is thriving in a station as busy as Darkside, and you're happy for her. You enjoy the thrill of working courier shifts alongside her. You fondly recall racing through the heart of Darkside, down Flicker Row and around the Scrapper Market with her, but you knew you won’t be doing anything like that anytime soon. For several reasons.
Bliss has done a very thorough job of inspecting the physical damage your frame has undergone, so thorough that you feel a little gutted. Like your frame has become even less your own than ever before. You try to push it away and you don’t ever mention it, but whenever you can’t help but think about it you feel your skin crawl. You were a mess. First it was your audio processors, your equivalent to ears. Yu-Jin liked to refer to them as headphones, and you suppose they kind of look like that. Bliss could tell one of them was malfunctioning without you needing to tell them, every time they said something on that side you had to ask them to repeat themselves. That was an easy fix, a diode had fallen out of place.
Most of your biosynthetic organ systems were in good enough condition to keep them, which was fortunate. Those were hard to replace. Since you were now rebooted, the decay of your biosynthetic parts at the hands of your frame was no longer a concern. Your frame had stopped slowly recognizing your components as foreign, and had stopped rejecting them. There were still some small tune-ups in order, as usual, however…
Some fixes aren’t so simple.
You swivel your hips and hang your leg over the side of the bed, towards your window.
Where your right leg should be, there is only part of a thigh .
You remember only vaguely listening after Bliss told you that the greater part of your right leg would need to be replaced, when they realized that the central wires and components along your leg had rusted from the inside out. A symptom of prior decay, one they had failed to notice. You don't blame them, your right leg was already your less reliable one anyways. It was already worn down to the bare steel skeleton, in some parts. For now… you’re stuck like this.
Serafin reassures you that you can talk about it with him, and you appreciate the gesture, but you don’t think he would really understand and you don’t want to bother him when he’s clearly tired and already expending more energy on you than he should be. You can't help but worry that his fatigue is, in part, because of you.
You stare down at the blank spot where a limb should be, not exactly feeling sentimental about the whole ordeal but still a little overwhelmed. You feel something in between loss and frustration, a feeling of uselessness. Beside your bed was a crutch shaped out of old pipe and scrap metal that Flint had given you when he came to see you. It was a silent signal that he understood how you felt, that he knew how suffocating Bliss and Serafin could be with their insistence on your recovery. Even if they meant well. You knew he was just as stubbornly independent as yourself, a hardwired sleeper trait. You smile, the humorous thought of Flint being smothered by concern and attention entering your mind.
The same way he must have, you just wanted to get up for a little while. You turn your head back to look at Serafin, his sleeping form in the chair. The fatigue on his face was obvious. He was out cold. You know exactly what he’d say to you if he saw you trying to leave, but… he won’t, if you’re careful.
The issue lies within all of the cords and wires connecting your body to Bliss’s machines, you can’t exactly get far with them all plugged in. Your hand probes around the back of your head and neck. There was nothing connected to the primary port in the back of your head so you were confident you wouldn’t suffer anything too severe if you were to unplug a few things.
You hesitate, a brief anxiety filling your chest as you weigh your options.
> Stay in bed.
> Carefully remove yourself from the wires.
You sigh, unplugging a few of the cords inserted into your head. You shut off the machine Bliss has looking at your frame diagnostics so it won’t sound any alarms. You aren’t sure if it would at all, but you really don’t want to disturb Serafin’s sleep. He needs it. A few of the cords can simply be neatly tucked into a pocket, so you grab your old crew jacket from the end of your bed and slip it on. Then, you slip off the pair of old slack shorts you had on for your more familiar pair of pants. Worn and comfortable. You tuck the right pant leg on the inside of itself, around what is now a stump of a mechanical leg. The extra layers were a little questionable, Darkside always felt hot and you knew you had to be careful of your internal systems overheating, but today you feel a little particularly frigid. Besides, the jacket could help make this easier.
Several cords are connected to your synthetic skin using patches, and you connect them to a small portable machine that Bliss had mentioned. You clip it to the side of your waistband. Now, neither Bliss or Serafin could really complain. This was fine.
Gingerly, sorely but stubbornly, you grab the crutch Flint had lent you and slowly try to stand up. It is a slow and surprisingly difficult task, but you’re determined to get up and get the hell out of this room. As nice as it was, you’ve spent too much time holed up in here. Serafin stirs lightly as you begin to walk, and you freeze, but he remains asleep. You take a deep breath. Wobbly but resolutely, you make your way out of the room. The door hinge lightly squeaks as you slip out the door, and the pipe crutch makes an audible sound as it presses into the floor, but you’re in the clear.
You walk down an unfamiliar but homely feeling hallway. You’re unsure where to go, it is dark, but upon seeing a singular light down the hall you decide to walk towards it. For a moment, you almost fall, but you manage to stay upright. You can move easier than you could a few cycles ago but your range of movement remains limited. At least, for now, you can move your head pretty well and do the basics when it comes to walking. Even with a singular leg. Down the hall, the light opens up to a quaint little kitchen, dimly lit and lightly cluttered with the signs of a well-rounded living space. Upon rounding the corner of the wall, you see Flint looking at you, sitting at a sizable table. The seats almost look like some sort of elongated booth. He smiles at you and you return the gesture.
“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks, his voice a welcome refuge. Light and quiet, reminding you of yourself in a reassuring manner. Flint never slept much, so you weren’t particularly surprised to see him up at this hour.
“...Been doing too much of that, I think.” You answer with a smile. He laughs lightly, looking at your leg and crutch for a moment before returning his gaze to your face. He silently beckons you to sit next to him, moving over so you can more easily sit by him. Your back is against the corner wall you just appeared from, and the seats are surprisingly comfortable. Your knee buckles as you go to sit down but Flint doesn’t mention it. You see him eating a ration pouch, a deck of cards laid out neatly in front of him.
“Was beginning to wonder if you’d ever show up.” He says, the same smile on both of your faces. He was definitely expecting you. You laugh, and he asks you which card game you’d like to play. Eventually, you settle on “Poker”. You're unfamiliar with the game but Flint tells you it's some old-timey game that Yu-Jin showed him how to play. Of course, it's a gambling game. You're intrigued by the mechanics and the rules seem fairly simple.
“You and I are dealt two cards face down, followed by five cards face up. Then, we have to make the best possible five card poker hand using the five community cards, and their own face down hole cards. The best five card poker hand wins the hand… and receives the pot.” Flint begins to explain the rules to you, his memory of the game sharper than you expected. It makes… a little sense.
As Flint goes in-depth with the mechanics of the game, you know you're not going to be perfect at this but you're okay with that. Flint knows that, too. You appreciate the way he's treating you normally, even if you can hardly hold the cards firmly in your hands and you can hardly concentrate long enough to have any chance at winning. He even pulls out a stack of cryo to bet. As you begin to play, you also like that this isn't exactly a game of chance, moreso skill and strategy. Being a sleeper in a place like the Beltborn Venture on the Far Spindle, nobody likes it or believes it’s honest when a sleeper repeatedly wins. As if, somehow, being a sleeper means you automatically have control over probability. Sure, you were better at calculating the odds by a long shot, but you weren't psychic.
Here, at the quiet and homely table, well…
There's nobody to accuse you of cheating.
...
While you're playing, and very clearly losing, Flint looks up at you. It's clear he isn't super focused on the game either. He still looks at you like he's looking at a ghost. “...Can I ask how you're feeling?” He says. His words are quiet for the sake of the sleeping bodies somewhere in this little compound, and also gentle in respect for you.
You don't consider lying to him. If there was anybody who would understand, perhaps even more than Serafin, it would be Flint.
“...Awful. Like my head has been reattached backwards.” You say, your words coming out as a more fragile, gruff wince than a quiet concession. There is a certain vulnerability to your honesty that makes you a little uncomfortable, but you knew there was little point in lying to Flint. It wasn't like you didn't trust Serafin or Bliss with that honesty, you just didn't want them to worry. And… you weren't sure if they would understand. Flint nods, looking at you with an expression of sympathy, but not pity. A question looms in your head, and you can’t help but say it out loud.
“How did it feel, when you lost your arm?” You ask, looking down at your cards. It is obvious that you are asking because of your leg. Flint’s left arm had been garishly torn off in the first confrontation with the Hunter, and you’d never felt comfortable enough to bring it up to him. Now, you’ve noticed, his arm has been replaced by a new one, constructed carefully with biosynthetic parts that must’ve taken forever to find. It suited him.
He sighs, and before he can answer, a fatigued and startled Serafin rounds the corner of the wall, seeing Flint before he sees you. “Flint, have you seen?-”
He stops his heavy pace upon seeing you. You don’t say anything. His expression relaxes and you see him exhale a weighted, tense breath.
“Sleeper.”
You feel a little guilty, seeing the remnants of an alarmed panic on his face. You shoot him a look of apology, expecting him to start one of his concerned but stern rants about not wanting to risk anything. It looks like he is about to, but Flint speaks up.
“We’re just playing cards. Care to join?” He says, his voice light and friendly. He’s vouching for you, and Serafin looks back at you before sighing audibly. He sits down beside you, and you see him automatically looking at the cords plugged into your body before anything else and you simply show him the small handheld device they were plugged into without saying a word. He takes the hint and doesn’t mention it.
Serafin joins your little card game, laughing along with you every time you realize how truly poorly you are at this game, at least right now. Flint smiles. You take longer than the both of them every time it’s your turn, and eventually you end up with the least amount of cryo by far, at the end. Serafin simply nudges your shoulder, carefully, joking that he’ll share his winnings with you.
Serafin eventually gets up from the table and as he does you feel a wave of a tired dizziness wash over you. You silently lay your head against your arms on the table, silently wishing it away. Flint lightly mumbles your name, but you just nod and tell him to give you a moment. You hear Serafin open the fridge with a sigh, and he also calls your name as he walks back towards the table.
You look up at him, his figure swaying lightly with the lights as he opens a ration pouch, opening his own and biting onto it with his mouth to hold it as he opens yours. He sits beside you, passing it to you. You run a hand over your face as you grip the pouch, your hand feeling shaky.
“You should eat something. Even tin-cans get hungry after a while.” He says, his voice a mixture of stern instruction and gentle concern wrapped within a joke. You smile, leaning back in the seat before you ever seal your lips around the ration pouch. They weren’t awful, they usually just tasted like some savoury form of yogurt, but you felt dizzy enough that the thought of eating wasn’t exactly enticing at the moment. Flint is already slowly drinking from his own, and Serafin taps his pouch against Flint in a sort of mock-toast. After a few moments of letting your head clear, you start yours.
Tasting something after what feels like thousands of cycles is something you didn’t expect to hit you so hard. You hadn’t realized how starving you were. Bliss had offered you several opportunities to eat since you’d woken up but you often refused. Your appetite was essentially destroyed, seemingly until now.
You spend a few more hours playing different card games with Flint and Serafin. Sometimes you sit one out, just preferring to watch. The table is filled with quiet discussions, free from the topics of recovery treatments or how you’re feeling. It feels like a refuge. You are glad to be able to finally talk to Serafin like he’s your friend, your pilot and companion rather than your caretaker.
You see him yawn continuously and his fatigue seems to seep into your skin, like it is contagious and he’s spreading it to you through the gentle contact of your shoulder against his. He noticeably becomes progressively more quiet as the minutes tick by. Flint mirrors the fatigue the both of you feel, and eventually he mumbles something about going to decipher some data up on The Rig and quietly leaves, nodding a look of sincere, silent farewell to you. Serafin nods and waves goodbye to him, yet another yawn slipping from his mouth involuntarily.
“You should sleep. Somewhere comfortable, this time, Serafin.” You tell him, gently nudging his arm with your fingers. Now you sound like the overbearing one.
“I’m not going to just let you wander right now, so unless you’re coming with, I’m fine.” He replies, shooting you a pretend glare. He’s serious, though.
“You don’t trust me to sit around by myself?” You shoot back, your tone calm but your expression slightly skeptical, even a little annoyed. Even so, a smile tugs at your lips.
“No, actually, I don’t.” He says. He doesn’t elaborate at all. You sigh, knowing he has you backed into a sort of corner. You feel like he’s using your care for him against you, betting that you’ll value his rest over your own thirst for freedom. He’s correct.
“...Fine.” You concede. Serafin smiles lightly and gets up from the table, beckoning you to follow him. You don't move around very fast with the crutch, but he's patient. You just feel mildly useless. Every time you stutter your steps or lightly wince you can feel his attention on you.
The compound bunks are... different from The Rig's. It is more spacious than the cozy but cramped bunks onboard your home ship, and the beds are a little more spacious. You don't even have to be strapped in, on account for the false gravity in this leg of the station. You almost wish it was zero-g, it might be easier for you to move if you could push off the walls like you're used to doing.
Bliss sleeps in one bunk, their glasses neatly tucked away on a nearby table. They lightly snore.
Juni sleeps soundly in one of the bunks, her peaceful face a surprising welcome. You and Juni were always close. Even Serafin liked her from the start, she brought a certain wonder and curiosity to the crew despite her more reserved nature. If anything, she felt like a younger sibling who reminded you of yourself. Serafin eyes you looking at her.
"Juni came earlier last cycle, when you were already asleep. Said she'd wait until morning to see you but she was so taken aback at the news that you were awake that she practically dropped everything and ran the second she could. She's been busy with her archiving project." Serafin whispers, leading you to a bunk that you know is his from the way his lightweight blankets are scuffled around, his sheets a deep blue.
He tells you to make yourself comfortable before he even gets on his own bed. His bunk in particular is near one of the windows, overlooking one of the quieter corners of Darkside. If such a place would exist. Darkside never sleeps.
You don't feel as awkward about sleeping in the same bed as Serafin as somebody might think. A brief memory flickers through your mind of the same thing occurring, in a different version of Darkside. This felt natural, comfortable. That was what drew you to Serafin in the first place, there were little boundaries between the two of you and you felt a lot less uncomfortable, untrusting and suspicious around him. You're not sure exactly why.
Serafin takes off your crew jacket and lightly folds it into a neat, uniform shape before setting it aside. His bed feels soft, smelling like the detergent he uses. He sighs as he sits next to you, feeling the comfort of his own bed for what you suspect is the first time since you've woken up. That idea fills you with a certain guilt, a feeling of responsibility.
...
Serafin quickly falls asleep next to you, facing you while halfway turned in his stomach. He always slept like that when he wasn't on The Rig, strapped into a bunk. His close arm snakes around your collarbone, and you know if you dare try to leave he'll wake up and probably drag you back. You smile at the thought.
It isn't long before you begin to doze, too. For a moment, the same paralyzing dreams begin to claw at your mind but they are quickly extinguished by the feeling of a familiar hand and voice. A whisper.
…
You wake up to a smaller body clinging to you tightly. You quickly realize it's Juni, and you sit up with a light wince as you're slightly startled by her sudden embrace. Serafin stands a few feet away from the bunk.
“Just… take it easy-” Serafin lightly nods, a slight look of caution on his face. Juni’s only reply are muffled words that you recognize as… sobs. She clings to your shoulders, her head pressing into your collarbone as she mumbles incoherent words. A ragged “I missed you” escapes her sobs, the only discernible words she speaks. You try to ease her worries, comfort her, feeling your own emotions tug at your chest. This is the first time you've ever seen Juni like this, so expressive or clingy.
It is a long awaited reunion for her, you realize. She eventually lets go and asks you dozens of questions, one at a time. At first she seems almost apprehensive to inquire about how you’re feeling. It isn’t long before she seems more calm and stoic like she usually is and she keeps talking to you, every question falling out of her mouth like she’s been waiting forever. She has been waiting forever.
…
After she seems to have cooled down, you slowly get up from Serafin’s comfortable bunk and try to make your way back to the main sitting area, where you hear conversations exchanged between familiar voices. Juni follows behind you, and you can feel her eyeing you as you walk, or rather hobble, a little messily. You know it’s a pitiful sight and you feel a pang of embarrassment.
Kadet sits in the main area, a small but nice little living space with plenty of room for the crew to sit, during a moment’s refuge. She treats you more normally than you expect, squeezing you tightly and not being afraid to nudge your un-crutched shoulder. She jabs at you like it’s hardly been a few cycles since she’s seen you, like you won’t crumble under her fingers if she presses too hard. You appreciate it.
Juni stays close to you as you chat with Kadet, silently watching you. She’s hardly shorter than you, but there’s something about the way she considers you that makes you feel just as small as you always see her as. You go and sit with Bliss on the couch as you don’t quite notice Kadet and Juni leaving.
Bliss lightly criticizes your little breakaway from before, but they’re glad you’re at least still connected to some supports. They give you the same look of sympathy that almost everybody does as you practically drag yourself around with one good leg, but they don’t say anything about it and instead switch out the patch-cables on your body for slightly different ones, setting you up along a comfortable couch.
This entire compound is decorated with the same homely clutter, with welcoming tones of dark green, muted blues and rusted oranges, a home made from bare hands.
Bliss reattaches some fresh cords along your body, one on your shoulder, one in the crook of your neck, one on your forearm, and another right around your chest. Their fingers lightly press the soft bandage material tight to your skin, and you make slight conversation with them. A gentle gesture, caring as always. Bliss was like a doctor at heart. Every word you say to them feels like it’s an object for observation.
You’ve been getting better at speaking, looking around, and remembering things. Your thoughts feel clearer after each cycle, but there’s still some semblance of brief confusion and disorientation that follows you around like a cloud. Bliss is visibly happy at your progress, and you continuously notice them asking the same questions over and over again. Once you notice this and point it out, they simply smile like you’ve done something right.
You appreciate their concern, but… you were seriously getting tired of being treated like a patient. A sort of somber, sour mood clings to your head. As if conjured by your sudden change in demeanor, Serafin walks into the main area with Kadet and Juni. Serafin is mumbling about something in a tone that suggests you’re not supposed to hear whatever they’re all discussing. Nonetheless, he sees you and smiles.
“Up for more card games?” He asks, that signature grin showing one of his dimples. You nod, laughing under your breath. Bliss doesn’t say anything but you feel a certain tension underlying there that you think they feel as well. You don’t feel like discussing it. It isn’t long before you have a card game set out, a table pulled close to the sofa you and Bliss were sitting on.
You sit down on the ground in front of it, next to Juni. Bliss leans forward from the sofa, where Kadet sits beside him, and Serafin squats down on an old fuel container that you guess has been repurposed into a stool. This game is slightly new to you, it involves a few scrap nuts and washers to count points.
Nonetheless, it seems fun. You feel a little scatterbrained, but you try your best to concentrate on the game. You watch Serafin’s calloused fingers divide up the cards, noticing his hands seem… rougher, more worn than usual. You’d need to ask him about that, later. Your eyes wander from his hands to the walls around you, furnished with mismatched light panels and the odd fabric wall covering. This place is worn, a little rough around the edges. Occasionally, when your thoughts slow and you feel a little suddenly out of place, looking at your surroundings is what you naturally do. Searching for an anchor, a habit your wandering emulation of a mind will never get rid of.
Suddenly, you realize Juni is saying something to you when she nudges your shoulder. You see everybody looking at you. Kadet shoots a look at Bliss and you feel a pang of annoyance. Even Kadet is looking at you like you have three heads now. Oddly enough, it’s Serafin who shakes it off and repeats Juni’s question like nothing is out of the ordinary.
“She was just saying it’s your turn, Sleeper.”
“Oh.” You reply, more vitriol slipping into your tone than you intend. You place one of your cards, topping Juni’s number and taking a few washers from the pile. She lightly smacks your shoulder with a mock playfulness. You smile but the irritation doesn’t leave you. Irritation at yourself as well as your friends around you.
The game goes well for you, but you stay mostly quiet as everyone else begins to chuckle and crack jokes with each other. That wasn’t particularly out of the ordinary but you still hate feeling like there are eyes on you right now. Watching you drop the occasional card with an unintentional slip of your hand, or take a little too long to realize it’s your turn again.
When the first game nears its end, it’s Serafin who comes out on top. You follow closely behind, before Juni, then Kadet, then Bliss. Kadet had made a point of antagonizing Bliss and sabotaging their game, even if it meant she lost a lot of her best cards. It’s funny to watch, you’re just not in the laughing mood.
Starting the second game, Bliss insists upon teams of two. They quickly dub Kadet their partner, likely so they couldn’t just screw them up the whole time. Kadet laughs. You team with Juni and Serafin emphatically pretends to be offended. He beckons Flint over from another room to be his teammate, to which he silently agrees.
About halfway through the game you begin to feel increasingly thirsty. Out loud, you ask if there’s any water in the ration fridge.
“Want me to get you some?” Serafin asks, his tone seemingly normal but you still feel like you’re being babied. You quickly shake your head and grab your crutch with a frown that he definitely notices. You stumble a little as you slowly get up but you just avoid everybody’s eyes and stagger over to the fridge. A part of you wants to scream, or cry, a hot feeling creeping up your face. You swing the fridge door open with your non-dominant hand, grabbing a water pouch. You quickly realize you can’t get the cap off with one hand, as much as you try.
Frustratedly, you lean against a counter to support your absent leg as you try to twist the cap off. It is a pitiful sight. Eventually, Serafin walks over with a sigh and you angrily thrust the pouch into his hand, not looking at him as he twists the cap off for you. You drink from it with a scowl and stare up at the ceiling, feeling your eyes sting. Not now.
“Look, Sleeper, why don’t we just-” Serafin starts, his tone frustratingly gentle. Kind. You shake your head fast enough that your neck aches in protest, a slight dizziness washing over your body as you fumble for your crutch. He reaches a tentative hand and rests it on your shoulder but you stumble away as you will away the angry, useless tears forming in your eyes that were never built to cry.
“Give Bliss my cards and take Juni on your team. Just finish the game without me.” You snap, your voice a tired crackle. As you slip away without waiting for him to respond you hear Bliss call after you, to which Serafin softly tells them to just let you go.
…
You find an unfamiliar room full of spare machinery, cooler than the rest of the compound. You sit with your back against a pile of scrap, in front of a window overlooking the bright and fascinating screen lit streets of Darkside. The cool air serves as a nice repellent for your anger, and your guilt. You imagine Juni suddenly without a partner in the game you were playing and feel cruel. Then, the self-directed anger and feeling of uselessness come back to your mind for another go. You don’t know how to function, like this. You’re supposed to be useful, helpful, but right now you can’t even help yourself.
You sit against the bulky form of scrap metal, unable to shake the uncomfortable feeling crawling up your back as you sit there without a leg. Thoughts rush through your head in muddled clouds as you wipe away the tears that refuse to fall from your synthetic eyes. You don’t know how you feel, who you’re even angry or upset with right now. You just sit there. Without really meaning to, eventually you fall asleep like that.
Unsurprisingly, it is Serafin who wakes you up. You’re sitting in his bed now as he rustles your shoulder. You don’t know what time it is and as soon as your prior outburst returns to the forefront of your mind you avert his gaze. Regretful, embarrassed even, but still angry. Resentful. A little bitter.
“Hey.” He says, his tone uncertain but gentle. You chew the inside of your cheek and respond in kind.
“...Hey.”
He pauses, sitting beside you. For a moment, the two of you simply watch the stars. Then, at last, he speaks.
“Can we talk? Please?” He asks. You have a hard time saying no to him, like you always do. It wasn’t like you had intentions of ignoring him, either. You weren’t that petty. You wait for him to continue. Watching the stars, the lights. He sighs.
“I know I have a lot of things to apologize for. A lot. I… I don’t even know where to start.” He begins, his voice full of genuine sincerity that you turn your head at. Serafin, as kindhearted and loyal as he is, almost never apologizes. He's too stubborn for that. He turns to you, an earnest expression on his face. His brow wrinkles with guilt.
“I know you hate feeling coddled. I know, I’m sorry. I’m trying not to make excuses but it’s just Bliss and I… showing concern. I thought you were dead, for a long time, and I just got you back. We all just got you back. Sometimes I see your face and I still can’t believe you’re right in front of me. I think… over the last while, since your first reboot on Darkside, I’ve tried too hard to cling onto you because I worry and along the way, I got so caught up in trying to do what I thought was right for you that I forgot to treat you like you were your own person. The stubborn, altruistic, and persistent person that you are. While you were asleep all I felt was regret for all the times I’ve done that.” He continues, his voice filled with a humble guilt that you recognize as his instinctual habit to reassure you.
You look at him with a slightly surprised expression, your brow raised. You agreed, he coddled you too much, and there were definitely times before where you were frustrated with his overbearing tendencies, but you weren’t so keen on him not treating you like a person. You never felt quitelike that.
“Such as?” You question, not trying to flaunt his mistakes in his face, but merely curious as to when he feels like he’s ever done that.
“Well, mainly, everything with Darkside. Trying to convince you to go back, even though I know it terrified you. I couldn’t be there with you and you came back looking like a pile of scrap, startled out of your mind. I told you that you could trust Marko and when he stabbed you in the back I still brushed you off. That was awful of me, Sleeper.” He rants. His words are sincere, full of regret. Honestly, you were really pissed at him for that. Unbelievably so. You remember ignoring him for a few cycles after that, as well as him eventually fishing you out from your bunk and convincing you to do meaningless errands with him. Errands you didn’t need to help him with that he asked you to anyway.
Serafin continues to rant, clearly letting off some long-held regret, guilt, and self-directed anger. You simply let him speak. You never expected him to remember any of this or point it out loud, small things you were irritated with him for so long ago. None of that mattered to you anymore, but his apology did. And, clearly he needed this. He needs to forgive himself.
It is painfully clear he blames himself for every mishap that had crossed your path leading up to your second reboot (which is noticeably the only thing he doesn’t mention). It becomes clear to you that his guilt is a facet of his recent overbearing protectiveness, his way of trying to atone for everything he’s come to resent himself for.
Eventually, he runs out of things to blame himself for and he stares at you, realizing you’ve just been carefully absorbing his words without trying to stop him. He shifts around and you know he’s about to apologize for that too, to which you simply reach over and grab his hand, intertwining his calloused digits with your manmade fingers.
You think for a moment, choosing what to say. You’re still a little bitter, a little angry, but every word he’s just poured out from his mouth washes that away.
> Chide him on his inconsiderateness.
> Forgive him.
“It’s fine, Serafin. I’m fine, you’re fine… we’re fine. I… don’t want you blaming yourself for everything. I really don’t. Those things belong in the past for a reason. I… really do wish you’d stop acting like I’m fragile, though. Bliss too.” You reply, feeling a little uncomfortable as his words demand you to show him some vulnerability, talking about yourself, but smiling as you speak. It’s easier to laugh this weight off with him.
He looks at you. You pause. You shift around a little, sitting up straighter and pulling Serafin’s hand closer to you. You look away from him and towards his hand, running your thumb over the irritated skin on his knuckles. A sign of the work that you can’t currently assist him with.
“Even if I am- fragile, I mean. I know. I just hate feeling helpless, useless. I can hardly hold things on my own and I’m stuck hobbling around like a station pirate. I hate it. You’re all staring at me like I’m a ghost and it just… frustrates me. I don’t know why.” You mumble. It feels weird to talk to him about this kind of thing but he’s visibly more relaxed when you do. He sighs.
“I get it. You obsess a little over feeling useful, helping people, and right now you feel like you can’t do that. Like you’re deprived of a purpose. Flint does it too, I think it’s a sleeper thing. I know you, I know you don’t like feeling all the eyes on you, either. I’m sorry. Just… give us some time, if you can. Things will feel more normal soon.”
He pauses, clearing his throat. “Speaking of which, I’ve been talking with the crew, and… Bliss has traced a good place to find some replacement parts for your leg, so we can fix you up. Get you back on two feet. Kadet’s staying behind with her courier work, and she can keep an eye on everything here. Everyone else wants to come, it’ll be nice to get everyone together again. We just need Yu-Jin and Nia.” Serafin nods, acknowledging your stubbornness in a way that reassures you. You perk your head up at the mention of leaving on The Rig, and at the mention of Yu-Jin and Nia. Your head has been so muddled lately that you kept forgetting to ask about them.
“Really? What- what have they been doing, anyways?” You ask, your voice is smaller now, softer. He nods again.
“Yeah, Bliss wants to leave tomorrow. Yu-Jin’s… he’s fine. Just been gambling pretty hard lately. He’s missed you, so it won’t be hard to get him on board. Femi’s been in Darkside for a while, so Nia’s just with him. Yu-Jin and Femi seem to be good buddies nowadays and Nia’s already enthusiastically agreed to come. If you’re up for it, that is.”
There is only a brief moment of silence, a shared look of curiosity, inquisition, gauging the other's feelings. His hand lightly wraps around yours, a little tighter. “Yes, of course I am.” You agree, perhaps a little more enthusiastically than you'd intended. You’re simply too eager to do something, anything, with the crew as a whole again. To feel a little more normal.
“Okay.” He nods, taking his hand from yours and letting you stand yourself up before you walk towards the door, leaving your previous resentment and frustrations in here. The only assistance he provides is handing you your crutch, though you can tell he wants to do more.
You silently realize that he probably always will.