Work Text:
A pulsing glow lit up the control room, the hum of the machines a comforting and familiar sound, the radar on the screen the only sign of life.
Freedom was taken for granted, walking in and out of rooms with cups of coffee in the middle of the night a luxury. Interacting with other humans was the gift of life, a small touch becoming the thin line between loneliness and insanity.
There was music in the air, a faint sound that almost passed unnoticed. A voice quietly singing along.
“...the soles of your shoes are all worn down, the time for sleep is now...”
Heart beating rapidly, a small warm laugh escaped her lips.
“Is someone there?”
A second of hesitation, the panic of being caught.
“I’m sorry, Commander Ruvelle. I didn’t think you would be awake.”
Silence fills the air.
“I forget you can hear everything I do.” The voice is closer, clearer.
“My apologies, Commander.”
“I don’t think I’ve heard your voice before.”
Another moment of hesitation, heart skipping a beat.
“This is Dr. Alver. Night analyst for the command centre.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Dr. Alver.”
There’s a sense of peace when you have the galaxy before your eyes.
The loneliness kills some, drives others mad. Sometimes, the loneliness makes them stronger, sometimes it’s just what they need.
As humans, we are conditioned to engage with others, to feel. To hurt.
There’s a warm laugh that rings through the spacecraft.
“Dr. Alver.”
“Commander Ruvelle, I’m sorry if we woke you. I must have forgotten to turn off my headset” A characteristic apologetic tone, sweet and genuine.
“It’s been weeks, Dr. You can call me Rose.”
“Yes, Commander Ruvelle.”
“Rose.” She hears the change within her, hears the almost indistinguishable happy sigh on the other side.
“Rose.” The echo of her name a melody.
Lights twinkle in the immense darkness.
“South America is beautiful at night.”
“I’m sure it’s beautiful in the day too. I wish I could see it.”
“I wish I could show you.”
The world seems more beautiful when you’re looking down at it. Far away from the chaos. Peaceful, like there’s an unspoken all-encompassing sense of harmony.
“What does winter look like from above?”
“Cloudy.”
Joy echoed through both their voices.
Despite never having shared a touch, they had shared every night for the last three months. The feelings were growing, along with it a small sense of desperation every time the sun rose over the horizon.
“Goodnight, Rose.”
“Good morning, Luisa.”
Without the sound of each other’s breathing, everything they once knew to be normal now felt empty and strange. The sounds of the city jarring as she tried to sleep, watching the sun climb the sky.
The world no longer seemed beautiful from above, not when the only sight she longed to see was among the chaos below.
“In a month you’ll stop looking at us from above. I admit I’ll miss the descriptions of the wonders you see, of the beauty of the stars that surround you.”
“I would gladly trade that for the sight of you.”
Warmth filled her, spreading to every corner of her being.
“The stars look very different today.”
“How so?” The smile on her face defying every law of gravity, pulling every muscle.
Minutes passed.
Static.
Silence.
Silence so persistent it had become deafening.
“Rose?”
The hum of the machines suddenly unbearable and loud, a distraction.
Red lights blinking, feet shuffling, hushed tones.
Then a hand, on her shoulder, both sympathetic and authoritative.
“We’ve lost the signal.” A voice from the other side of the room confirming, concerned.
Her hands grew cold, her body shaking, her mind racing.
“Ground control to Commander Ruvelle. This is Major Tom. Do you come in Commander?”
The pounding of her heart louder than anything she’d ever heard.
“Ground control to Commander Ruvelle. Come in, Commander.”
Tears tickling her features as they ran freely down her face, falling unashamed on the surface below.
“Can you hear me Commander Ruvelle?”
Another beat.
“Can you hear me Commander Ruvelle?”