If Jove Stray

Chapter 13: moving forward

Alcott snorted. "That's Dashiell."

"Anyway, it looks like we're stuck with each other for a while," Tyson admitted. "And I want to at least be friends. I don't really have anyone else. I don't know anything about here. I keep hoping that if I act really calm then I'll start feeling calm, but right now I just feel..." He sat down on the couch with a thump. "Overwhelmed."

Alcott sat next to Tyson. The man from Earth was not what she expected. She had expected someone like Titus or Dashiell: rude, inconsiderate, selfish. Tyson, so far, was none of these things.

"I've lived here all my life," she offered. "I can answer your questions, at least about the base and life here."

He sighed, running fingers through his black hair.

"Why did Dashiell wake me and partner with you?" Tyson wondered. "I have no business ruining your life. Alcott, please let me know if there's anything I can do."

She cracked a smile. "You just got here."

"My friends on Earth would tell you that I'm a professional worrier, but given my career that's basically true. And honestly, I just need something to do. What happens tomorrow? I get up; I wander aimlessly around this place? I need something to do, even if it's folding towels. I'm intruding on your life enough; I ought to help."

"Did you ask Dashiell what branch social work would fall under?" Alcott inquired.

"No. Based on what you and Levi have told me, I would wager I need to talk to medical," he replied. "I'm not licensed, at least not like I would need to be on Earth, but Cameron seems to handle more human resources and paperwork than emotional stress."

"What do you do exactly?" Alcott questioned.

Tyson gestured between himself and Alcott. "This," he said. "I talk. I listen. With the kids back home, I would create small goals they could achieve to give them a sense of achievement, of self worth. Do something nice for someone. Write ten words that make you feel happy. Things like that."

"Does it help?"

Tyson nodded. "When you've had everything stripped away, you have to start small," he said. "You have to celebrate the minutes and hours and then work up to days and weeks. It sounds like this place has had a massive trauma, and I think it's crazy that there's not a single person you can talk to?"

"I have Levi," Alcott pointed out.

"Why doesn't Levi's partner live with him? Dylan, was it?" Tyson inquired. "Is it his injury?"

"Non, he sustained nerve damage from cryo," she explained. "And Dylan.... We've had a lot happen this year."

"My point exactly. Levi sounds like he has just as much going on in his life. I'm more than certain you've had be there for him too. He looks rough, and I'm not talking about the crutches."

Alcott sighed. "I know."

Tyson yawned again. "What are we doing tomorrow?"

"You're sleeping," Alcott told him. "And then we'll talk with Madison about getting you a job. After that, we'll see. You should probably talk with your parents eventually."

"No," Tyson slumped in his chair.

"You don't get to tell me how to handle my life if you won't confront yours," Alcott noted.

"Yesterday I made plans to go see a movie at a friends' place. That friend is dead, you've probably never heard of the movie and we're four light years away from his house anyway. What part of that do you think I could forgive my parents for?"

Alcott grimaced, looking down at her lap.

"Because I've seen what hatred can do to someone," she said softly. "Forgiveness is for yourself, not your parents. Forgiveness is moving forward."

"What happened?" Tyson asked, just as quietly.

Alcott wasn't prepared for the onslaught of emotion that his question brought. No one talked about Landing Day around her. She drew in a sharp breath to keep the tears at bay.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," he said, touching her arm. "I just assumed...and even saying that out loud makes me feel terrible."

"There was a... we had..." Alcott attempted. "Marcus, he..." She breathed in and out several times before continuing. "A group of crew members from the Canary led a massacre on Landing Day, it's a...it's one of our holidays. They were protesting the leadership, but others were injured. Killed. Marcus pushed me out of the room and stayed to help others to get away." Alcott put her hands on her stomach. "We had just found out I was pregnant."

She sniffed once, keeping the meltdown at bay. Tyson leaned over to give Alcott a hug. It was a little strange at first -she barely knew this man- but she was grateful that he seemed compassionate rather than prying.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated. "You can cry, I won't judge you. I've shed more than a tear today myself."

Alcott let out a strangled laugh, but then the tears wouldn't stop flowing. She wept into Tyson's shirt as he held her. Wept for Marcus and the son he would never meet. Wept for her friends and family who tried to help but were going through the same anguish. She had killed a man just last week, and no one could know. Even this stranger from Earth had been thrown into her life without so much as her say. She felt so out of control, so ill prepared to have a child.

The tears died down to shudders, and she looked up at Tyson.

"Sorry," she managed.

"I have this effect on people," he replied with a grin. "It is, rather, it was my job."

He yawned again. Alcott straightened, wiping her eyes.

"You need to go to sleep," she told him. "I do as well. Merci, Tyson."

"Mercy?" he questioned. "Is this a space thing?"

"Non, it's um, means that I'm grateful, thankful?"

"Oh. Oh, it's French. That's weird." He rose from the couch, stretching his neck. "See you in the morning, Alcott."

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This section took me a week and I'm still not happy with it. I don't want Tyson to be a knight in shining armor, that's not what he is. But his flaws are harder to write since the others don't know him very well. Thanks for reading!