Sara growled and slapped the wires that tangled in her hair.
"Why the hell is it such a mess down here?"
She weaved through the wires and turned on her flashlight. She was going to find that creature, even if she had to skip meals. She wasn't hungry, anyway. She fought the wires until she was back where the mess started. The wires were still attached. She searched along the wall until she found it. There was a hole eaten away in the wall where she saw it before. She felt so stupid. I could have stopped it. She would still be alive.
"Sara!"
She pointed her flashlight at the voice. It was Tim. He was trying to get to her, but he was getting tangled in the wires.
"I'm glad you're here. You can help me. There's a lot of ground to cover, so if we split up, we can--"
"Don't worry about the creature right now. Come back to the crew. Everyone is terrified."
"I can't. I have to find it."
He broke himself loose and met up with Sara.
"You're not okay."
"Of course I'm not. I'll feel better when I find it and destroy it."
"No, you won't."
She crossed her arms.
"I thought you, of all people, would understand what I'm doing. I'm angry! Why aren't you?"
"I AM ANGRY!"
She jumped. Tim had never spoke to her like that before. Tim rubbed the back of his head. He closed his eyes and sighed.
"I'm angry. At the Drax. At losing our home. At Maria's death. I'm angry about all of it, but I've been here before you, Sara. I know what happens when you let your anger become your judgement. You miss a lot. You forget what's important, even when it's right in front of you. It makes you blind."
"I'm not blind. I can see clearly."
"No, you can't! You're down here, all alone, with a crew scared out of their pants, and you disappear to do this on your own! You're becoming reckless! It's going to kill you."
He grabbed her arms and shook her.
"I can't lose you, too!"
He winced and started crying.
"You need to face this. The creature isn't your enemy, here. It's your heart. You open yourself to everyone, and it gets you hurt. I know because I was just like you when I was a child! Killing that creature won't bring your family back!"
"Tim, you're scaring me."
"You should be afraid! That's what I've been trying to tell you ever since we boarded this god-forsaken vessel! I don't want to scare you, but the truth is anything can happen, whether we want it to or not. Killing the person, or thing, responsible won't give you resolve. It's not a physical fight. It's psychological. The abyss you keep staring into will eventually look back, but I'm not letting you fall into its pit of despair."
He put Sara's head on his chest.
"What can you hear?"
"Uh... Tim, you're really freaking me out."
"Shut up and listen. Do you hear it?"
"Yes. I can hear your heart."
"Do you feel it?"
"No, you're wearing clothes."
"That's not what I asked. Can you feel it?"
Sara didn't understand, but Tim wasn't letting her go. She groaned and gave in. She listened to his heartbeat for a few seconds.
"I don't feel any--"
She felt it. There was a small bubble in her chest. She felt something familiar, and it scared her.
"No, I don't want to do this."
"Shhh. Don't be afraid. Let yourself remember."
She didn't want to remember. The warmth was filling the cold dark inside of her. The icy shell cracked. The wall threatened to break. She fought it but failed. She was human. She couldnt fight emotion.
She could feel someone cared, and that's all it took. All of the pain, all of the suffering she had endured, broke loose. Everything she kept bottled up inside poured out. She thought she could put her feelings away, fix herself when she was ready.
Oh, how wrong she was.
Tim was her bridge across the chasm. She was running, lungs screaming, with love driving her forward and away from hopelessness. She broke down, falling into Tim. They fell on their knees.
"It's okay," he cooed. "I'm right here."
This wasn't like when they were alone before. This one felt... freeing. Like a weight had lifted off her chest, and she could breath above the water. She wasn't drowning. She was swimming.
A memory of when she was little surfaced. She wasn't thinking about it. It just happened. She was being picked on at school. Her mom picked her up crying in the principal's office.
"What's going on?"
"Your daughter hit another student," she said. "Very unprofessional."
"Did you ask her why?"
"She physically assaulted one of her peers! She doesn't deserve sympathy. She requires discipline."
"Wha... how did it start?"
"We don't know, but--"
"Did you even ask her what happened?"
"We have multiple statements from other teachers during recess. They all agreed she made first contact."
"You don't know that."
The principal shook her head. Sara went from bawling to small whimpers.
"The teachers didn't lie."
"I never said they did, but you can hit someone without touching them."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"I'm saying there are other ways of fighting that don't involve fists. She might have made contact with him first, but I can guarantee she didn't throw the first swing."
"She still requires punishment, and that's why you're here."
"No. I'm here because some ratchety principal wants to choose sides because the one that got hit has to be the innocent one, right?"
"Mrs. Whitfield, I'm not--"
"Don't you 'Mrs. Whitfield' me. You haven't even bothered to ask for her side of the story."
"The teacher took care of that. She refused to answer."
"No. She was scared no one would believe her. What's the point of telling the truth when no one listens?"
"That's not what happened."
"You weren't there. I don't know your staff, but I know my own daughter. She was taught to defend herself when someone bullied her, and that's what she did."
"She could have told the boy to stop!"
"I know she has. When that didn't work, she fought back with a fist instead. It seemed to get the point across, or else I wouldn't be here."
"That doesn't excuse her behavior."
"But it's an excuse for the boy's? What, was he just let off with a warning? I don't see him and his mother here. We could have a nice talk, mother to mother about this if she was here."
"He was the victim. We don't need his statement."
Her mother shook her head and laughed.
"Do you think I'm that ignorant of my own flesh and blood? She would never lay a finger on anyone unless she felt threatened. I'm not saying that to get her out of trouble. I'm saying it because it's the truth. It might not be one you want to hear, but if you don't need all the facts, then neither do I."
"He hurt someone," little Sara mumbled.
"What?" The principal said.
"He was being mean. He wouldn't stop. I told the teacher, but she didn't listen."
"Huh. Would you look at that?" Her mother said, crossing her arms. "She does speak."
"That's not what she told us."
"I didn't tell you anything!" She shouted before bawling again.
"See, I speak with the teachers at our conferences," Sara's mom said. "They act like nothing happens in their classroom. Everything is sunshine and rainbows. When my daughter comes home crying, and the person she should trust lies about the reason why, that's when I have a problem. That's why she doesn't speak out. And you know what? I'm through playing this game."
She stood up, brushing off her lap.
"We'll be going, now."
"What about punishing your daughter?"
"Punishment? Sure, I'll punish her. By buying her a gallon of ice cream."
The principal's mouth dropped.
"You're a disgrace to your family!"
She picked up her daughter, leaning her crying head on her shoulder.
"You're a disgrace to this school and all of the students here. We're supposed to be working together, fighting to protect each other. We are at war. She had the strength to deal with your crap, but standing up for someone else? I couldn't be more proud."
She slammed her hand down on the principal's desk and leaned in.
"As far as I'm concerned, you were the enemy she fought against. And today, she won. She's going to that academy, without your help, and be better for it. I know she's capable of great things, even if you can't see that."
"Because, unlike you, I love my daughter."
"No..."
Sara grabbed Tim's shirt and pulled herself into him.
"I'm not going anywhere," Tim said. "I love you, Sara."
"Stop it. Stop saying that!"
The more he said it, the more true it felt. She was afraid of opening up, that feeling again would make her hurt worse. It still hurt, but.. it felt good. Like when she punched the punching bag and didn't stop when her knuckles bled. She was bleeding out from her heart.
"Come on," Tim said. "It's time for Maria to return to her mother."
~~~
When they arrived to the top, Damien had done as he was asked. Her ashes were collected and put in a can that was cleaned and designed with the Canis logo and flowers. Damien did a good job making it nice. He covered the top with his hand. Cassidy spread the word around that someone had passed. Without asking for permission, everyone, even Thelma, followed Sara and Tim. Tim held Maria's ashes. Sara walked by his side. Sasha remained silent.
They silently marched to the airlock. There was a small inlet in the wall for smaller objects to be jetisoned into space. Music played on the ship's speakers. Tim looked at Maria's urn. He quietly took Sara's hand and put it under the can.
"Help me return her home," he said.
She nodded. They each took a handful of ash and put it inside. It was a practice that was only done by family members. Each handful was a farewell and a promise to that they would meet again. When they had emptied her ashes, they put the urn inside and closed the hatch. The button above it lit up, ready to eject. Sara put her hand over it and froze. Tim put his over hers. He looked at her with a nod. He gave her the push she needed to let her go.
There was a hiss. They looked out the window. Her ashes scattered among the stars. The urn could be seen spinning among them, swirling the ash like the center of a galaxy. Sara sniffled, shedding a single tear. Tim rested his hand on her shoulder.
"Ad astra, Maria," Sara whispered. "Ad astra."