So. . .I've finally done it—I've finally began writing this dumbass eulogy for my brother. Allow me to point out, though, that this is among one of the most painful papers I've ever been forced to write in my life. My essays in school were nowhere near as painful as this, and they were pretty damn painful, so please bear with me.
As you all know, I am Maia Watney, fellow astronaut and younger sister to the lovable idiot we all knew as Mark Watney. Let me be the first to say that Mark was an outstanding person and one of the greatest people I've ever known in my thirty years of life. He lived his life to the absolute fullest and has touched a numerous amount of lives during his time on Earth, his time in space, and his time on Mars.
Words can't even begin to describe how much losing him has hurt me and how much it continues to hurt me—they may never be able to. The only thing I really have to say in regards to how I feel is that I feel lost; I lost a piece of myself when I lost Mark, and as I write this it becomes nearly impossible for me to find the words to express my thoughts about my brother. I'm willing to try, though. . .for him.
First and foremost, Mark was a devout family man. He loved his family more than anything in the world and would gladly put his own needs aside to tend to ours. He was a devoted son and a devoted brother. Those who knew him knew there was nothing in the world that could ever break the bond he shared with his family—absolutely nothing.
Growing up, Mark and I would constantly be at each other's throats. I can remember him locking me in his closet for about an hour when I was thirteen because I fed his leftovers from Gino's to our dog, and, when I was eleven, he threw me out of our living room window because I got angry and threw his Xbox against our living room wall, thus rendering the console useless. At the end of the day, though, Mark was always the one who was there for me; he was always the one that I could count on no matter what the situation presented itself to be. I was his family, and his devotion to his family was the foundation of his actions.
Mark was also a wonderful friend to those around him. He was one person everyone knew they could depend on. If you needed advice, he would be there; if you needed someone to comfort you, he would be there; if you needed a good laugh, he would be there; if you needed a shoulder to cry on, he would be there; if you needed someone to bring you food in the middle of the night, he would definitely be there. He was the definition of a perfect friend, and, in my opinion, was the definition of a perfect person.
As most people know, I'm sure, is that Mark could easily be defined by his personality alone. He had a personality unlike anyone I've ever known, and, unfortunately, I managed to inherit a fragmentary aspect of that personality (I'm only joking. . .partially). Anyway, Mark was very outgoing and a very humorous person. To those of you who don't know, one of the main reasons Mark was chosen for the Ares 3 mission was specifically because he was an asset to our group's chemistry (he was also a kickass botanist, by the way). He would cure a bad day among the crew by cracking jokes; the jokes were absolutely terrible, but his effort to brighten our spirits, however, was not. He could make light of any situation—good or bad—and I believe that's why everyone on the crew adored him so much.
Accepting the fact that Mark's gone is still so difficult for me, and it doesn't appear to grow easier as the days pass; it's just so hard to say goodbye when you were never really given the chance to say hello. No one understands the heartbreaking feeling of literally holding onto someone you love for dear life, only for them to be viciously ripped from your grasp seconds later with no hope of return. I'll never forgive myself for letting him go on SOL 18. Had I the strength to hold on to him, maybe then would he still be here with me—with all of us. I'm sorry, I really am.
But, I love you, Mark; I love you more than you'll ever know, Twatney (this is inappropriate, but it was a part of my childhood, so leave me alone). You're the greatest big brother a girl could ever ask for, and I'm so thankful to have had you in my life for as long as I did. I wish we could have had more time together, but not all wishes come true. You of all people should know that, I'm sure. Remember on prom night when you told me your 11:11 wish was for your date to kiss you, but then she threw punch in your face and mom had to pay 250 bucks to get your tuxedo dry cleaned the next day? Boy, was she mad.
Anyway, I'll miss you, and I'll miss watching hilariously unfortunate events happening to you. There's no one in this world that could ever replace you, and I mean that with all my heart. I wish you were here with me, I really do, but all I can do now is hope that wherever you are is treating you well. I will never ever forget you, Mark Watney. Thank you for making my life somewhat worth living, you idiot.
_____
MAIA PLACED HER pen down onto the table in front of her, pushed the slip of stationary away, and wiped the few tears that had managed to escape her hazel eyes. The Ares III crew members all sat around her, their eyes practically boring into her skull, but she couldn't pay them any mind at all, at least not for the moment. She had just done one of the most difficult tasks she'd ever been forced to do in her life, excluding coming to terms with the fact her brother was gone. Her original plan had been to persuade Teddy into not making her write the eulogy as it was sure to screw with her mentally, but he was adamant and that only aggravated her. He claimed it would not look good if she, being Mark's sister, was the only Ares III crew member who refused to present a eulogy.
The memorial service for Mark was scheduled to take place in a mere two days, which meant that it was imperative Maia had her eulogy for Mark finished before it took place. It had taken her almost an hour to write, and the crew remained with her through the duration of that time, which Maia admired greatly. Being around them while writing it made the process a lot easier than it would have been had she been alone, though she wouldn't have minded if only one specific crew member had been the only one around.
Beck had not left Maia's side—except to sleep and work—for about a week. He was staying true to his word about helping her get better, and Maia was exceedingly grateful for that. He was the main reason she was even remotely sane, regardless of the fact he had stumbled upon her having two additional breakdowns subsequent to the one he had originally witnessed. Her two episodes had only helped urge Beck to continue with his mission to help her, though. Seeing Maia in such a state of emotional turmoil upset him more than he actually cared to admit.
"Let's see what you have here," Johanssen murmured, taking the piece of paper into her hands.
She read over it silently. Several chuckles would escape her as she continued reading, as well as several tears. Johanssen was the closest to Mark, aside from Maia. The two were best friends, and Mark even considered her a sister, so there was no doubt the note had some sort of emotional effect on her.
"Twatney," Johanssen chuckled, wiping her face and sliding the paper over to Martinez to read. "How come I never thought of that?"
Maia smiled softly. "Because you lack the mindset of a true Watney. You're almost there, though, I promise. Mark would be proud of how much progress you're making."
"He really threw you out of a window?" Martinez questioned, his brows raised in amusement.
Remembering the event only managed to extract the negative emotions Maia had worked so hard to contain during the hour. She could not answer Martinez verbally because of this, so, instead, she pressed her lips together and nodded.
"Maia," Beck spoke quietly, noticing her change in demeanor. "You know you can talk to us, right?"
"Beck is right," Commander Lewis spoke up, slightly eyeing the flight surgeon. "The six of us are not just colleagues, Watney—we're a family. We stick by each other no matter what."
Maia wiped away the tear that had managed to sneak its way out. "I just miss him, is all. He should be here with me—he should be here with all of us. And, to make matters worse, I haven't been able to talk to my parents about it because NASA has been so busy dealing with Mark's death they haven't found the time to allow us communication with our families. I just can't even imagine what they're going through right now. It must suck losing a child and then being denied communication with your remaining one. Sometimes I really hate how NASA works."
"Don't we all," Vogel sighed and slid the piece of stationary back over to Maia.
Maia took the piece of paper into her hands and looked over it once more before handing it to Beck. She was entrusting him to take care of it, because she knew she would not be able to type it out again and then send it to NASA. She didn't feel like dealing with the wrath of Teddy Sanders if he were to discover she didn't present her eulogy. Teddy was quite the asshole in Maia's eyes, and there was a strong possibility she would lose her job if she was left to "deal" with him herself.
"I trust you'll take good care of that?" Maia teased Beck, gesturing to the paper he had now folded up.
He smiled at her and stood up, placing a comforting hand on top of her head. "I've got everything under control, Maia, don't you worry."
He walked away without another word and Maia turned back to her crew-mates, all of whom now displayed various facial expressions.
Johanssen now sat with her mug to her face and her attention averted elsewhere, but Maia could still make out the smug smirk, even through the steam from her coffee.
Martinez just sat there, a knowing grin on his face. What he thought he knew was beyond Maia's comprehension, and although she grew rather curious about what it was on his mind, she thought it was better not to question him about it.
Vogel looked as if he didn't know what was going on. He was confused about the apparent situation, just as Maia was, which comforted her slightly.
Commander Lewis, however, was looking at Maia with a very stern and an almost disapproving look on her face. She seemed to be in deep thought about something, but Maia was not sure in regards to what it could be. All she was aware of was that all of them, aside from Vogel, were making her feel very attacked, not to mention, very uncomfortable.
"What is wrong with you people? Do you know something I don't?" Maia questioned them.
"Why don't you tell us, Watney," Commander Lewis said.
Maia blinked, unsure of what her Commander was talking about. "I'm afraid I'm not following, Commander."
She opened her mouth to speak, but Johanssen chimed in quickly. "Commander, everything is okay. She's completely oblivious to the situation, I assure you," Maia's best friend laughed, along with Martinez.
Commander Lewis stared at Maia for a moment before nodding her head and standing up. "I do hope it remains that way, at least until we're back home."
Johanssen only snickered in response.
Commander Lewis left the rec-room shortly after, as did Martinez and Vogel. Maia was left alone with Johanssen, who was still a giggling mess at the opposite end of the table.
"Care to tell me what the hell that was about?"
"You and Beck," she laughed, taking another sip of her coffee.
Realization struck Maia immediately, and her eyes widened. "No, no, no; you've got it all wrong. It isn't like that, Beth, and you know that."
"Oh, I do know that," she replied rather snidely. "Commander Lewis, however, does not. All she knows is that Beck has a major crush on you. I guess she thought his gesture was meant to insinuate something more between the two of you, which is apparently not allowed up here deep in the bowels of outer space."
Maia believed her best friend's words to be absolutely ludicrous, every last one of them. She and Beck were friends, and that was all she was ever anticipating them being. She had told Mark once before that he was a deranged idiot to believe the flight surgeon held any sort of romantic feelings for her. Beck was a naturally sweet guy, and Maia had always hated people mistaking a male's niceness for feelings. She wondered if Johanssen's insight had come from Mark himself, though she wouldn't be surprised to learn that it was true.
"All of you are idiots to think Beck has some sort of crush on me," Maia remarked as she stood from my chair. "And you're even bigger idiots for believing Mark when he told you."
Johanssen snorted and shook her head. "Wow, you are just so. . .oblivious, Mira."
Maia only rolled her eyes and started towards her room. "Whatever you say, Johanssen."
She'd had enough to last one day, and for Maia that meant it was time for a well-deserved slumber.