Page 30 of A Long Way Home

“Like the least fun birthday party, complete with a Chelenko Piñata,” I say, as I pull a strip of velcro from the storage wall.

I wrap some velcro around the pliers, securing them to his vest. “There.” I give his shoulder a little pat. “Now stop moving.”

Chelenko grunts.

“Hallo. Can I talk to Alex for a moment?” Matthias asks the Doc.

“Sure, I need to go grab something anyway.” She turns back to the window. “I’ll be right back.”

He waits until she's a few metres down the hallway and out of earshot before turning back to me.

For a moment, I am presented with nothing but the black of his t-shirt and my reflection in the glass. My brown hair is loose and lank as it floats up around my head. Blood and sweat plaster loose hairs to my forehead. My skin is pale, blotchy, with an accompanying bloodshot eye.

My eyelids feel heavy. Everything feels so heavy. I am exhausted, bone-weary so, and by Matthias’ concerned expression, he agrees with my assessments. And that makes me feel all the more helpless.

“Alex.” He lowers himself next to the glass, his side against the wall. “I’m here.”

“Matthias.” I give him a small smile, all I can muster with my current level of exhaustion. My energy stores are depleted. The initial adrenaline rush has definitely come and gone, leaving me ready and waiting for a ten-hour nap. “What did the crew decide?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m going to get you out of there.”

“Luca–”

“Wants to risk ripping a hole in the hull. I won’t let you die.”

“I’m not dying in here,” I say, my voice quivers, summoning all the integrity of a wet paper bag.

“I’m not going back to Earth without you.” He replies easily.

I believe him.

He's giving me the same look he did in the past. When he was fully, completely, and irrevocably committed to seeing something through to the end.

We fall into a comfortable silence.

Nothing but the hum of the station and the gentle tapping of fingers against a datapad. Chelenko falls back into a light sleep, I nudge him lightly to check if he’s still breathing. He inhales deeply.

I slide myself closer to the glass, my shoulder resting against Matthias’ with just a few inches of reinforced glass separating us. “Matthias..?”

“Hmm?”

“Matze?”

His eyes raise from the datapad clutched in his hand, to meet mine.

“You haven’t called me that in a long time.” He smiles.

“Why didn’t you sign the papers?” I ask.

“Alex, don’t–”

“I need to know. Before I…”

He looks up from his datapad, frowning at me, “You are not going anywhere. I forbid it.”

“Matze. Please, I need to know.” I beg.I am so bloody tired of begging him. That’s all I ever did in our previous life. I begged him to come home, to be on time. To invest even half into us as he did into his work.

He sighs. “I wasn’t ready.”

---