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Tales of Recovery, Rocketry, and Regret.

Summary:

(For @Erosophic)

Feldspar feels trapped while on Timber Hearth, and is desparate to see the Stars again, but their body isn't quite in shape yet and they want to take it out on something.
Unfortunately, that something is Gabbro.

Meanwhile, Slate and Gossan agree that yes, Safety is actually really important with spaceships.

Notes:

This fic is set after my very first one, "In Spite of Fear, We dare to Discover," while Arete, Chert and Riebeck are trying to figure out how long their sun might have left.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

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Feldspar was exhausted.

It was, unfortunately, something that they had become familiar with. As much as they’d expected to be able to return to their adventures in space following their rescue, one doesn’t just recover from years of isolation and dwindling supplies in Dark Bramble without at least some toll.

They thought they’d done a pretty good job of hiding it when Arete had arrived. Not that it had been hard, mind you-the Astronaut was a blubbering mess when they found them (mostly due to sheer disbelief that they were alive, apparently. Hah, like they’d be taken out by some dimension-bending plant and ravenous anglerfish…).

Heck, they thought they could just get right back to exploring once they landed on that launch pad.

And they could have! They really could have just hopped into a ship, any ship, and shown the other astronauts that they were back.

They knew they could have done it, right up to the moment they couldn’t.

It wasn’t the way their legs had literally collapsed beneath them the first time they’d returned to Timber Hearth’s stronger gravity. It wasn’t the way that they could barely keep any proper food that wasn’t tinned fish or soup down without feeling sick. It wasn’t the fact that their arms felt like they were on fire from simply getting up.

No, they could have dealt with those. Those were little things, injuries to be recovered from. Sure, it would take a bit of time, but most injuries did. These were just of the starving sort. They could get back to it given time. Already they were able to walk all the way up to the Mine entrance unaided, and the Observatory with a bit of help.

But…the world had…changed. Like, it was home…but….they weren’t sure what Home was, anymore, and they’d never really wanted to be stuck on Timber Hearth for their life anyway. But it wasn’t just that.

Gneiss was older. Well, they’d always been older, they’d cared for Feldspar from Hatchlinghood. But they were…Older.

Slate was…more withdrawn. They still had that spark of insane vigour that Feldspar always loved to encourage, that manic energy for a new contraption, but it was more subdued. Clouded, like the skies of Giant’s Deep.

They felt crankier, too. Everything they said, with rare exceptions, had a little undertone of fatigue, of weariness.

And Gossan…Stars, Gossan…

No one really wanted to talk about it. Least of all Gossan.

But there was no hiding the fact that there was an ugly purple scar where their eye should be.

Feldspar sighed. Apparently, Gossan and Slate had been a little apart for years, Arete had told them.

“Something….happened, after you disappeared,” they mumbled. “And...that’s all I’ll say. I don’t think any of us are really ready to say yet.”

Feldspar hadn’t pressed it, because they didn’t know what to do. And being stuck in bed while Arete and Riebeck had got stuck in Dark Bramble hadn’t done much to improve their mood.

They should be out there, exploring things, and seeing new sights that they’d heard Arete talk about. They should be up where they could help, not lying in a bed barely able to walk without their legs giving out from underneath them.

They should have been able to just grab a ship, grab Arete before they’d drifted into Dark Bramble, and brought them home safe and sound. Another daring feat completed. A Hatchling rescued. Maybe even a tale for the campfire.

But most of all, Riebeck wouldn’t have had to put themselves in danger.

No one should have to put themselves in danger except Feldspar. That’s what they lived for.

They wondered if all of those centipedes had done something to their body. They definitely felt weaker than they had even in the Bramble since returning to Timber Hearth.

So much for the Great Feldspar, they thought to themselves bitterly. It tore them apart to have everyone see them like this. Like a weakling. Like a burden.

It reminded them too much of when they’d been a hatchling.

They’d always had weak lungs. Gneiss told them, before they made that first flight, that they’d been taken to the Geyser mountains when they were very small, because they’d been on the edge of death for so long, and no one thought they’d make it.

Well, they’d shown them. They’d gone higher, and farther than anyone else had before. They’d shown that it was possible to get to space, it could be done.

And then, after exploring everything they thought they could, they’d gone and screwed it up.

They should have known better than to go into Dark Bramble. They always should have. It was just…so…

Their thoughts were cut off abruptly by the opening and closing of the door, and they sat themselves up in bed. A familiar yellow-green beanie wafted into their lower eye’s vision, before lowering itself down to reveal a tired-looking Gabbro, their face lined and worn.

“Well, if it isn’t the astrophysicist! Good to see you Gabbro. Gneiss didn’t tell me you’d come home.”

Gabbro shuffled a little to the side, fiddling with their scarf. “I just got here,” they murmured, their voice a little faraway. “How are you holding up?”

“Well, I’m able to walk for ten consecutive minutes again, and I’m no longer stuck eating soups and tinned fish, so that’s something!” They forced a chuckle, a false smile crinkling the corners of their mouth, doing nothing to hide the lie their eyes revealed.

Gabbro paused, and sat themselves down on the chair beside the bed. They had that searching look they often had, Feldspar remembered from back when they used to go fishing together-despite the difference in years between them, it always felt that Gabbro could see right through them, like Feldspar could just sit and chat with them about the little things, and not be ‘The great Feldspar’ for a while.

“So how long do you think it will be before you can get up and about again?” Gabbro asked eventually.

“According to Gneiss, another two weeks. They said I’m getting better at an exponential rate, so it’ll be easier as it goes on.” They shifted on the bed a little, swinging their legs down onto the floor as they sat up. “It’s just the waiting that’s killin’ me, you know?”

“Yeah, I can imagine it’s  rough staying in the same cabin all this time. Do they let you outside?”

Feldspar snorted. “What, Gneiss? They’ve been all over me like when I was still a hatchling! I’ve only been outside twice in the last week!” A bitter chuckle. “I just…want to get out of here, Gabbro. And I know it’ll be a while but…”

“Well, I was going to ask Gneiss if I could take you over to the waterfall for some fishing. Maybe that’ll take your mind off things?” Gabbro tilted their head, fingers fiddling with their scarf.

“Yeah, that’d be good…still, I can’t wait to be able to fly again-“

“Well…about that.” Gabbro had a sudden hesitancy in their voice that made Feldspar tense up in an unpleasantly familiar way that made them guess what was going to be said before Gabbro said it.

“Gossan…wants you grounded for at least two more weeks after you’ve recovered,” Gabbro muttered. “They want to run through some training with you again to get you back up to speed, but they also want you helping around the village while Slate fixes your ship.

Feldspar groaned. “Two more weeks? Hearth, that means I’m stuck here another month on this rock!” They threw their head into their hands. “I mean, I know they’re glad to see me again, and I am too, but I…Gabbro, I just…I wanna see stars again, Gabbro, actual, proper stars! I want to feel like I’m…well…me again!” They emphasized the gesture by waving their arms across themselves.

“That training’s important, you know. You haven’t flown in…years, and I’m pretty sure that having a body as skin and bones as it is for so long ain’t doing much for your flying skills-“

“Pfft, please!” the older astronaut snorted. “I may be out of practice, but I bet I could jump into that ship Arete has and pop on over to Brittle Hollow no problem!...I could have done it last week, if they’d let me…”

An uneasy silence settled as Feldspar scratched their torn ear. They were still angry. They wanted to lash out, and they hated that. They wanted to get out of here. They couldn’t stand it-the walls, the closed off space, the Hatchlings already asking them for more stories that they didn’t have to tell.

They didn’t want to be stuck here.

They wanted to be out there.

They wanted to help. They wanted to live.

Gabbro coughed uncomfortably, tilting their head backwards over their shoulder, obviously guessing Feldspar was in a thundery mood. “I’m still open to bringing you fishing, if you want.” There was no bitterness now, just a melancholic understanding. But I’ll understand if you don’t, the unspoken words whispered.

Feldspar shifted in their bed a moment. …they really missed fishing. Maybe it would take their mind off of how trapped they felt.

“Fine,” they grumbled, hauling themselves out of bed and reaching for their crutches. “If you go get Gneiss I’ll grab a jacket.”

Gabbro smiled, but it Feldspar could see the strain in it. “Sure thing, buddy.” Their green beanie dipped under the doorframe and disappeared.

 

As it happened, spending five years in Dark Bramble and foraging after centipedes meant that Feldspar had all but forgotten how to actually fish.

“You’re holding the rod all wrong,” Gabbro chuckled, as Feldspar strained against their third bite of the afternoon.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” they grunted, turning the rod into the direction of the pull. The wood creaked, and there was a sickening splintering sound from inside the rod. “I’ve always been a natural at this!”

With a sigh, Gabbro heaved themselves off the grass, and gently, but firmly, laid their hands on Feldspar’s wrists. They flinched, but then accepted the guidance.

“Pull this way,” they whispered, guiding Feldspar’s arms and grip away from where the fish was swimming. “You gotta go, kinda with it, but kinda against it at the same time-like you taught me,” they flashed smirk.

Feldspar loosened their grip a little and swung with Gabbro, and immediately felt the strain coming off the rod. They exhaled, gently bringing the fish in. “Have I really forgotten that much?” they murmured, a wistful longing evident in their voice.

A chuckle, deep and bubbly, came from behind them. “Of course not, Fels. We just gotta jog your memory a bit, that’s all.” The quantum poet released their hold on Feldspar, watching them reel the small, struggling, blue-scaled form up and out of the water.

“Ha! I got one!” Feldspar laughed, grinning ear to ear. “That’s the first one I’ve caught since…since…”

“Since you last left,” Gabbro finished. Feldspar nodded, the elation dying down into…what, exactly?

…Was this what their life was, now? The other astronauts were all gearing up to look for a way to reach the Nomai Station (or, as Arete had called it, the ‘Sun Station), and here they were, their greatest achievement of the week being a small, paltry fish.

“Yeah,” Feldspar finished, lamely. This was a major achievement, but they still felt so…hollow.

They shook their head, and turned their head up. The sun was overhead, and they caught the flash of the Nomai station orbiting it. With a flash of urgent forboding they recalled the meeting in the Observatory, just days ago.

the end of the universe...” they found themselves whispering. Gabbro snapped their head over their way, having placed Feldspar’s first catch next to the three they’d managed to snatch in the bucket.

Stars above the felt useless.

“Something on your mind, Feldspar?” Gabbro was checking over their shoulder with a concerned face.

“I should be up there, Gabbro,” they muttered.

“Well, you aren’t,” Gabbro replied, firmly. “You’ve done good so far. Last week you could barely lift anything, and you remember how rough fishing is on the arms.”

“It’s not exactly much, though, is it?,” the veteran hung their head. “I like these quiet moments, yeah, but I’ve had nothing but quiet for the last five years.”

Gabbro didn’t answer that, simply handing them their rod back, and giving a cursory wave to an approving Spinel, who had come out of their cabin and glanced at the fish bucket besides them.

Their eyes searched across the crater, taking in all the little sights they’d forgotten. There was Porphy, stirring and sealing what they called the ‘Arete batch’ of Sap Wine. Heh, maybe the young one would be able to actually drink it, too. They’d heard that they’d puked it up the first time around, before their launch day.

From the edge of the crater came the sound of hammering, and the occasional distant curse. They knew that Slate and Gossan had set up a temporary workshop at the crater edge by the launch pad to fix up theirs and Arete’s ships. Said launch pad was now occupied by Riebeck’s own lander, and Gabbro’s was still on Giant’s Deep.

The crater was full of life, full of people. People they knew, or at least…they remembered knowing them.

Gossan had been missing an eye, and theirs and Slate’s faces were heavily lined and more tired than they remembered. Tephra and Galena hadn’t even been walking when last they left, and Arete themselves had just started their training.

They felt…out of place. Again, they glanced over to the fish bucket, half-heartedly flicking their rod to the waterfall, the line landing with sploosh near its base.

“…Some astronaut I am, huh?” They chuckled, a tad bitterly.

“Hey, you stop that,” Gabbro shot back.

Feldspar furrowed their brow. “Stop what?”

Gabbro set their line onto the ground and stuck it there with a tenting loop. “Stop beating yourself up when you’re not able to get starside. You’ll get up there again, trust me. You just need to…wait a little.”

“Uuurgh, I’m done waiting,” Feldspar grumbled. “I’ve been waiting five years! I feel like if I don’t get up there soon, I’m gonna go insane.”

Gabbro turned to face them, fully now. Their eyes were serious, and tinged with sadness. “You know, Arete really did take after you.”

“What do you mean by that?” Feldspar could feel their temper rising a little. What did Arete have to do with this? They were still groundside with Riebeck.

“Both of you have the same problem,” Gabbro chided.

“I don’t have a problem. I’m just waiting a long time, that’s all.”

“You do too have one. I might be younger than you, but observation’s a strong suit of mine.” Gabbro held the glare Feldspar gave them before continuing. “You’re both so obsessed with getting from point A to point C that you forget that there’s a B in between.”

Feldspar gestured at the sky. “Again, can you blame me? I mean I couldn’t even see stars til they came to grab me-“

“And who’s fault was that?” Feldspar jolted in their seat, seeing…not anger, they could handle anger, but just…grief, in Gabbro’s face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just thinking that the last we saw of you before you disappeared was that stunt you pulled riding the Cyclones on Giant’s Deep. And then, I was just setting up my first camp on Statue Island when Hornfels said you’d gone missing. No radio, nothing. I guess you felt like you had to ‘get away’ then, and look how that turned out.”

“What, you’re implying I wanted to be stuck in that darned seed for five years?” They grimaced, feeling a twinge of pain in their scars as they did so.

It was a break for a few weeks, sure, but…after a while I was looking for any way out.”

Gabbro’s voice remained steady, but Feldspar remembered how to see through the cracks of the façade, and could see anger bubbling beneath. They were angry, too.

“You seemed pretty happy staying around when Arete rescued you. ‘Been nice to have a break,’ I recall them saying.”

Feldspar bristled. “And you seemed pretty okay with sitting pretty in Chert’s ship while Riebeck and Arete were stuck in that dangerous place-“

Gabbro pushed themselves off the grass, their fishing rod forgotten. “Would you rather there were four missing astronauts than two?!” There was tensuin all over their face now, and the beginnings of tears around their eyes.  “I wanted to go in, Feldspar, I really did, but Riebeck was already in there and there was no point trying to bring Chert’s ship in, or me trying an EVA when they were already on their way-“

“You could have gone in sooner! I would have-“

“No, you’d have had your third interesting crash of the week and then got stuck for Hearth knows how long-“

“I know what I’m doing now so don’t get on my case about-“

I can’t lose you again Feldspar!” Gabbro burst out, finally shouting. “I can’t. And I can’t lose myself either…” They set themselves back on the chair, breathing heavily. “I know you want to think you could have helped, maybe you could have. But throwing more and more of us into that place…I…” They put their head in their hands.

“You…you know what your problem is, Feldpsar? You treat everything like a challenge to overcome. Sometimes, you can’t overcome something. You just have to run with it, and hope you come out the other side.”

“Like you?” Feldspar hated the bitterness in their own voice. HATED how…vindictive they sounded. “Everyone’s talking about how you spend all that time on that beach of yours, letting your ship wander and get all broken up-“

Gabbro was stiff as a board. They weren’t clenching their fists, but their jaw was set. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t hate, yes, Feldspar, hate that I just left that ship be?”

They remembered it all. The crash report-something had gone wrong with Riebeck’s ship, and Arete had got stuck in the Bramble.

They shouldn’t have said it. They knew this would be the point of no return. But anger was what was driving Feldspar here, and it wanted to lash out, to be the one in the right, to win the argument, to tell the story. “Obviously it wasn’t enough for you to think about it before it happened, because it happened in the first place!”

Gabbro flinched, and their eyes shot wide, before their shoulders slumped, and at that very moment, what Feldspar wanted more than anything was for the waterfall to just sweep them away so that none of this could ever have happened. But they sat there, and stared at their fishing buddy, who just hung their hands limply at their side, closing their eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Yeah…I guess you’re right.” They picked up the fish bucket, and trotted it over to Spinel’s cabin, a glum look on their face. “Reel in your rod. We’re heading back to the cabin.”

And Feldspar’s heart just sank into their boots. Why had they been so stupid? A part of them felt justified, after all it had been Gabbro who’d flung the first proverbial rock in the argument, but at the same time, they hated how right they were.

If they’d had any say, they’d have grabbed a ship and just got straight back to flying, no questions asked, no announcements. They’d go straight back to that blasted Dark Bramble to see if they could tackle those beasties better. They’d have looped the ship below the crust of Brittle Hollow, and between the equator of Ember Twin. They’d have pulled a thousand stunts just to feel the rush of adrenaline they’d been missing for years.

And they’d probably get themselves killed in the process.

As they numbly grabbed their own fishing rod, they ventured an apology. “I’m…I didn’t mean that, Gabbro, it…”

“-just slipped out?” Gabbro finished for them, taking the rod, laying them both to the side, and grabbing Feldspar’s arm to lead them back to the cabin. “It’s not like you’re wrong, I guess. I didn’t really take care of my ship.”

With a knot in their stomach, and a horrible, horrible feeling of a jagged tear that might not be repaired, Feldspar allowed themselves to be led away from the waterfall, towards Gneiss’ cabin.

 

“Hey, Slate, can you check the wiring on the starboard thruster? One of them looks a little frayed.”

“Sure thing, Gossan, just gimme a sec.” Slate grunted as they hauled themselves out of the fuel intake system for Arete’s new starboard thruster bank. Their ship had taken a sorry beating after they had bodily rammed it into Ribeck’s a week ago. Slate would have bellowed obsceneties from dawn til dusk at them, if it hadn’t been the only thing that saved Riebeck from a fiery grave.

Oh, yeah, speaking of which…

“Did Riebeck say anything about their new seat?” Slate brushed off a layer of grime from their forehead as they grabbed the stepladder Gossan had been using.

The trainer sook their head. “They haven’t tested it out yet-they went with Chert two days ago, remember?”

“Ah, right,” Slate answered awkwardly. With all the work they’d been doing fixing the ships, they’d missed Chert launching. The astronomer had gone with Arete and RIebeck to investigate something on Ash Twin, something that might tell them if the sun was going to explode tomorrow or not.

Hearth, when had they become so…nonchalant about that? If anything, they should have been just sending those ships up to go, just slap on a new thruster bank here and let them fly! They might not have time to make a proper ship after all, not when they were possibly on the clock!

But…that was the word, wasn’t it? Possibly. Now, Slate was no astrophysicist, but last they’d heard a Star took months or years to die, and Chert hadn’t reported anything unusual on the surface yet.

Focus, they told themselves, peering at the wire around the starboard thruster on the thruster bank. Sure enough, there was a frayed wire peeking out around where the ignition electronics sat.

Grumbling, Slate descended from the stepladder. “We’re gonna have to get a new one. Has Tuff managed to get that old pile recycled?”

Tuff, the Hearthian’s resident miner, had made a name for themselves coming up with better ways to recycle old metal from worn down pots, pans, cabins and electronics. Recently Slate had started giving them the old spaceship parts they couldn’t get going anymore.

Gossan gave a wry smile. “They have, and they’ve stretched some of it out already, so you shouldn’t run short anytime soon.” Their eyes shifted to the ship. “You’re doing a good job on it.”

Slate snorted. “If only past me had been so thorough…they’d probably be sick, watching us right now…”

“It sure has been a while since we saw eye to eye, that’s for sure.” Gossan looked at their feet a second, while Slate rummaged through the last of the wiring they had on hand.

They didn’t hear Gossan continue talking until they’d reached over and tapped their shoulder.

“What?” they groaned.  “I’m kind of in the middle of something here!”

“I was just saying that if your past self had seen you now, they’d probably go off on you about being a stickler for the details…or worse, like me,” they chuckled, warmth filling every note. Then, a downwards expression. “But really…we have changed, haven’t we? Even just a week ago you weren’t…well…”

“-A paranoiac with an overactive fear of worst case scenarios? Ugh, yeah, don’t remind me…” They started measuring the length of wire, marking the cutoff points with a pencil on the rubber insulation. “But, hey…it was about time, wasn’t it?” They hoped that would get them off their case. They might be friends with Gossan again, but they still didn’t like this much conversation with them…

Gossan, rather impolitely, seemed to not realize or care that Slate had closed the discussion. “Well, I guess, but even so it is pretty sudden for you isn’t it? I mean, I know you, Slate. You and I have always been stick-in-the-muds about our respective worries, and Hearth knows it takes a while for us tot change.”

“Aren’t I allowed a little sudden changes every now and then?” Slate retorted. “Why do you think I like blowing stuff up so much?”

Gossan tapped their foot in that annoying I’mtryingtomakeanimportantpoint way they had. “But this isn’t just making explosions, now, is it?”

Slate bristled a little at that. What, shouldn’t Gossan just be happy they’re taking safety more stringently now and leave them to fix things up?

It wasn’t as if three separate ships had all had severe mechanical damages inflicted on them just a week ago. And it definitely wasn’t the fact that that seat had malfunctioned in the first place, or that Feldspar’s Electrical Systems hadn’t stopped sparking until Slate had had to manually cut the connection to the reactor, or that they had three potentially live Nomai to keep an eye on until Riebeck and Arete figured how to open the darn things-

No. It definitely wasn’t to do with any of that.

They were just…trying to make things last. Like they normally did.

(But then again, the way they used to do that was by reusing wires until they were frayed and useless duds, or just hammer the dents out of a hull instead of make an entirely new one, or reuse old electronics and air cushion pumps…)

They realized that Gossan was staring at them, waiting for an answer. Slate coughed curtly to cover the embarrassment. “It’s…it’s nothing. Nothing I need to talk about.”

Gossan shook their head, sighing again. “It’s never nothing with us, Slate, but I can wait til you’re ready if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

“Thanks, it does,” Slate responded, again curtly, as they began to cut the ends of the wiring and strip the rubber from the soldering ends.

They heard Gossan turn to walk away, and suddenly Slate realized that no, they very much wanted to say something right now because Gossan had asked and they’d spent years not talking to Gossan except when they needed to, and there’s a chance right now to talk to them and it’s slipping through their fingers.

“Hey Gossan?” Why do the words feel like tar coming out of their mouth? Why is it always so hard to talk about stuff that isn’t thrust-weight ratios and hull construction?

The coach rotated away from the stairway that had been built up to the Crater Edge, three eyes widening in undisguised surprise.

“I…you’re right,” Slate forced out. They had to say this now, otherwise they’d just tell themselves it was just being sentimental and never bring it up again. “It isn’t just about making explosions, it isn’t…it isn’t…”

Just say it, they screamed at themselves. This is your only chance!

I’ve…I’ve seen three of my ships fail in just two weeks,” they choked. “Two of them in the same day. My ships, Gossan.”

“Well, technically Arete’s ship was damaged by ramming themselves into Riebeck’s. I’m pretty sure no matter what safety measures we build in, it would at least scratch the paint.”

“I know that, but they wouldn’t have had to make that ramming manoeuvre in the first place if Riebeck’s seat hadn’t failed! I should have tested, I should have listened to you, I was cutting corners, just look at Feldspar’s ship-

“Feldspar’s ship crashed years ago, Slate, you can’t blame yourself for that-“

“Yes I frothing can!,” Slate  yelled. “If I hadn’t taken so many shortcuts with the wiring, maybe Feldspar could have flown out! If I’d just checked Riebeck’s seat before they left again, or maybe used something stronger than pine-rubber, maybe they wouldn’t have had to be knocked out of a collision course with a moon made of volcanoes! If I’d waterproofed the thruster wires better Gabbro could have grabbed Arete when they were drifting!”

They winced as their fingers, clenched into their palms in a fist tighter and tighter, kinked the skin. They were shaking, and they couldn’t stop talking, because It was like they’d set themselves into an orbit and they didn’t have the fuel to get out of it.

“They could have died, and it would be my fault,” Slate choked. “And it would have been because I didn’t listen to you!” They punctuated that last statement with a fist to the railing, yelping and drawing it back into their palm as a splinter jammed itself between their knuckle.

“Every time I sent a ship up there, I’d make sure it was safe, but there was always at least one thing I took a shortcut on,” they hissed. “And even before that, I started taking shortcuts. You should remember, that’s how you lost your eye in the first place!”

“Slate-“

“And now we learn the Sun might be about to explode and it could explode today, tomorrow, I don’t know, and we only have one ship in working order and that one’s off planet, and now I’m wondering if I reused some wiring there too, or used an incorrect bolt, or maybe didn’t check the g-cushion pressure or the heat shield, and we could lose someone again, and it would be because of ME, Gossan!”

The tears were dripping, crawling down their face and they couldn’t stop them, hated them, hated how weak they felt, hated how just a month ago they’d have written themselves off as obsessed for caring about this sort of thing.

But that was a month ago, and this was now, and now they might be on a time limit, and they didn’t want to lose anymore astronauts because they’d been using lousy ship parts.

And they looked back on when they’d started all this, making little things around the village better and safer, and wondered where they’d lost their regard for safety.

Maybe, all those years ago, that recklessness and disregard was what Outer Wilds Ventures had needed to get themselves off this rock in the first place.

Maybe they’d need it again, for whatever was coming in the future-A station around the sun, a Vessel in Dark Bramble, or going into some stars-forsaken teleporting planet, or…or…they didn’t know. Whatever happened, they had to make sure these ships WORKED. They couldn’t fail again.

There couldn’t be another Feldspar.

They could still see them, the day before their last voyage. As usual, buoyant, vibrant, full of life, but feeling…worn…around the edges. Like they were forcing thee smiles, forcing out the stories.

And then they’d vanished, and they’d only come back two weeks ago.

Thin as a bag of sticks. Half healed wounds all over their body, Their first step back on Timbr Hearth being more of a stumble. Some sort of illness contracted from the things they’d been eating to survive.

Their ship, the electrics all short circuiting through a gap in the insulation they’d forgotten about, the whole ship basically untouchable until they’d dug out the plans and disabled the reactor with a long pole and a snippers to cut the wires.

Riebeck’s g-cusion, ragged from ice exposure and hastily repaired, all but useless.

They couldn’t let that happen. They couldn’t.

“Slate, look at me.”

Blearily, eyes rimmed red, Slate acquiesced, fixing their gaze on Gossan, who’s own visage was a mask of concern, sorrow…and a little bit of anger.

“Hold out that hand, Slate. Looks like you cut it pretty bad.”

Slate felt like they were on autopilot, except this autopilot didn’t carry a risk of ramming them into the sun. As soon as they’d raised the hand, Gossan grabbed it by the wrist, firmly but gently.

“I’m going to need to look over it a second to see how bad it is, so let me know what hurts, okay?”

Glumly, Slate nodded. Was Gossan avoiding the issue? No, that wasn’t like them. They’d come down to them shortly after every argument they’d ever had to figure out how to speak to each other semi-normally again, they were probably just trying tom settle them back to Hearth.

As they winced when Gossan pulled out the splinter, their only thought was that it was working.

Wordlessly, Gossan pulled a patchy handkerchief from their breast pocket, wrapping it around Slate’s Knuckles. They gave it a quick pat, putting the other hand on Slate’s shoulder, looking at them with eyes so intense Slate had to look away.

Eventually, the silence was broken.

“I’ll be the first to say that you’ve built your fair share of deathtraps, Slate,” they started, their lips curling up into a smile nonetheless. Slate found precious little to smile about, and was relieved when Gossan’s expression returned to a neutral stoicism. “We all remember my accident on the Attlerock. And later with the jetpack. But the fact that you’re actually taking that into account now is a huge step in the right direction.”

Slate nodded grimly. “I guess so, looking at it that way. But I keep thinking about how things might have been different if I just had listened to you in the first place…”

“And that’s natural,” Gossan agreed. “But you’ve gotta stop doing it Slate. If you keep worrying about your mess-ups yesterday, you’ll be so focused on that that you’ll mess up today too. And, as impossible as it I to believe I’m actually saying this is to believe, we need a bit of crazy in Outer Wilds. Especially now.” They looked to the Sun, worry etched under their eyes. “We can only hope we’ve more time left than we’re afraid of. But it’s good you’re trying to keep things safe now.” They sighed. “It’s still surreal, if I’m being honest. Seeing you so…safety oriented. I hope you and Feldspar will still get along, is all.”

Slate grimaced. “Ugh, they’ll probably think I’ve gone soft…I’m surprised they haven’t stolen their ship and tried to fly off yet.”

“Well, they’re still not ready for that yet,” Gossan assured them, “And I’m going to put them through some refresher training when they are, so you’ll have enough time to proof up their ship in case they try any more death defying stunts.”

Blinking through fresh tears, Slate couldn’t help but chuckle lightly. “If it were a month ago, I’d have called you a pedantic paranoiac. Now I’m just hoping they don’t go about trying to get themselves killed…how times change, huh?”

Gossan nodded, smiling. “Yeah…they change a lot, I guess. I wonder where Feldspar is right now?”

Slate shrugged. “I did see Gabbro taking them fishing a bit ago, but since then I dunno. Maybe they’re back at the cabin or something. Heh, those two stick together like glue most days…it’s like they’re two hatchlings in one egg sometimes…

 

Gabbro suppressed the urge to scowl as they half-dragged, half-carried Feldspar back towards Gneiss’ cabin where they were staying.

Gneiss was there, changing the sheets and blankets on the bed, and their sunny expression darkened when they saw the ones on the incoming fisher’s faces.

“Did you two have some sort of argument?” they questioned.

“You could say that,” Gabbro answered before Feldspar could. “We got a few fish for Spinel, they’re dressing them now. I’d better head off-“

“Actually,” Gneiss spoke up, and Gabbro felt their shoulders freeze as they anticipated what Gneiss would say next, “Could you stay with them a bit? At least until Marl and Hal get a fire going for supper. I have to check Tektite’s leg, see, and, well, I need someone who can use those medicines, and last I checked, Gabbro, you were pretty good patching Arete up.” Feldspar could hear the smirk Gneiss wore under their breath, and before Gabbro could protest, they had moseyed over to the door and stepped out, leaving the two of them alone.

The two stood awkwardly beside one another for about five seconds, before Gabbro exhaled a tired sigh and marched over to the lockbox under the windowsill.

“I guess there’s nothing for it,” they muttered, and Feldspar, apparently resigned to their fate, sat themselves on the bed and started removing their shirt.

As Gabbro began spreading the ointment for the rashes and wounds they’d collected, both of them made a pointed effort not to say anything. It was too awkward. They wanted to just separate and simmer for a while, and Gabbro knew exactly what Gneiss was doing, sticking them together for a bit longer.

They felt sick. They felt anxious. They felt angry. They couldn’t show it, of course. They couldn’t. They had to be the rational one, the calm one, because there was no one else to do it.

They almost didn’t hear Feldspar when they whispered, “I didn’t mean what I said back there. It was wrong, it was spiteful. I’m sorry.”

Gabbro quivered a little. Was sorry really enough, this time?

They weren’t sure. But Gneiss had left the two of them for a reason. Either take care of this now, or let it dominate the rest of their time on this planet.

They sighed. “I know you’re angry, Feldspar,” they muttered, gently spreading some of the ointment over a particularly nasty wound on the lower back that hadn’t fully healed. “I know you feel like you’re trapped here. I know. When my ship didn’t work, it was like that island had become my grave. I should have known better than to leave it for a float around the planet and expect it to be fine,” they finished bitterly.

Feldspar remained silent in response, except for the occasional wince as the ointment stung their wound.

Gabbro continued. “That doesn’t give you an excuse to lash out like you did, and you know that. I don’t want us to be at odds with each other, Feldspar. But…”

“I know what you’re going to say,” Feldspar hissed. “That I should slow down. That I should be more careful. That I should set an example for the others. That I should tell others where I’m going.”

Gabbro rolled their eyes. “Got it in one, as you’d said yourself. You can’t just go back to tempting death again, Feldspar. There’s so much more at stake-“

“-And that’s exactly why I need to be up there, Gabbro! These things are too dangerous for most of us to think about doing. Me? I eat danger for breakfast. I mean, for star’s sake, Gabbro, our Sun could explode any time now and we don’t know! How are we gonna learn if no one’s willing to take that risk and make the jump to that station?” Feldspar was waving their arms now, though occasionally wincing as they pulled a sore spot, and Gabbro jut wished they’d hold still.

“There’s taking a risk and there’s being reckless. You are definitely suggesting the latter,” Gabbro retorted.

“Well, if I don’t then who will? When there was that big fire while we were hatchlings, I had to run in to grab the ones trapped because no one else would! When Chert messed up a landing on Ember Twin I was the one who dropped by to pick their ship up for repairs! I have to be the one Gabbro, because no one else should need to go into this stuff-“

“Feldspar, we’re Astronauts. Even Riebeck knows there’s a chance something might go wrong and they still signed up. We trained for this, so trying to hide the fact you miss the adrenaline rush behind whatever this is isn’t doing yourself any favours.” Gabbro took their hands off Feldspar’s back, and began to apply some clean dressings to the worst of the wounds.

“Believe it or don’t but I really want to keep you guys out of danger,” Feldspar whispered.

“And how is throwing yourself into it all the time going to help?” Gabbro retorted in a semi-accusatory tone.

“I’d imagine that’s self evident-as long as I’m the one going you guys don’t have to worry about-“

“Feldspar, please, don’t lie to me. I can see right through you. I know you just want to get back to space again, but throwing yourself into danger is going to help no one-least of all yourself.”

They sighed, gently tying the bandages up to secure them before they grabbed a clean shirt. “We need to make sure you don’t go missing again. And to do that, you need to change. We both do, I think.” They tried not to sound bitter about it, remembering the comment just a few minutes ago.

“Obviously it wasn’t enough for you to think about it before it happened, because it happened in the first place!” Gabbro thought back to the moment they tried to lift off, the sudden horror when their thrusters wouldn’t ignite, the realization they wouldn’t be able to reach Arete in time.

They didn’t want to admit this to anyone, least of all themselves, but it hadn’t just been pragmatism that had kept them with Chert when Riebeck had charged in to go after Arete.

They’d had…flashes. Memories, Dreams, they didn’t know. But something, something told them they knew exactly what it was like in this place.

Knew exactly what it was like to die there.

They shook their head, trying to vanish the sensation of something burning through them. Arete was beside them, screaming, they were both screaming and there was no way out-

Gabbro pinched the bridge of their nose to try clear their head, and focused instead on Feldspar. Right, Feldspar. They had to hammer this home, but they weren’t sure how. They…where could they start?

Fortunately, Feldspar started for them.

“Gabbro…,” they were hesitant, a hundred unspoken questions hanging around their head. Why me? Why do I have to stay here? Why do I have to be the sick one? Why can’t I be up there? “I…I just…I feel like I’m stuck in a net here. I…I can’t stand it. I should be up there, Gabbro, in the stars, I should be flying, I should be helping!”

“We all should Feldspar, but we all need to change-“

“That’…that’s the thing.” Gabbro tilted their head, confused. Was changing itself the issue here?

Feldspar took a deep breath. “I know I need to be more careful, less reckless. I know I need to tell Hornfels when I leave from now on. But…Gabbro, I don’t want to do any of that. I mean, I know I need to change, but…what if I do…and I’m not me anymore? I mean, maybe it sounds stupid, but without the stunts, the stories…am I really me? If I change, I’m afraid I’ll lose something, lose myself, just become…average.”

Gabbro pinched their brow, trying to decipher what Felspar was on about. Okay, so they could understand being afraid to change. They got that.

That didn’t make it any less idiotic.

Gabbro was no stranger to change. And whether you wanted it or not, change happened. People changed, becoming calmer or more anxious, or happier or sadder, you couldn’t stop that.

Feldspar, Gabbro thought, needed to realize that they had to change, because they needed to be on their best footing when they launched again.

And they really didn’t want to lose them.

“Felspar, just, please listen.” Gabbro walked over with the shirt, slipping it on and turning Feldspar around to face it. “First, what you’ve just said makes as little sense as the movements of the cyclones on Giant’s Deep.”

Feldspar’s face twitched. “I think I made plenty of sense-“

“Second, whether you change or not is not an option. Stars, Feldspar, you’ve already changed and you haven’t really noticed it yet.” They turned their head to the side, looking at the old bandages they’d tossed to the floor. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have left my ship out to soak. But I can’t change that now. And you should have told Gossan, or Hornfels, or one of us, where you were going before you did, but you didn’t and that’s done.”

“But for Hearth’s sake Felspar, we need to do this now, now more than ever. If we’re really on the clock, we need everyone ready to find a way to either protect ourselves from a supernova, or outrun it, or find a safe place to shelter, and we can’t do that if you’re going to crash your ship all the time-“

“I KNOW, Gabs,  I know, it’s…it’s hard.” Feldspar deflated in their grip. “I just need something to get me going, something to do. I don’t wanna wait around training, not when I could be up there with you guys-“

Gabbro shook their head. “You know that’s not going to happen until you’re healed and trained up again, Feldspar. We care about you, and I want to see you back in space as much as anybody, heck, Gossan has Slate fixing your ship up right now, but for now you gotta stay on Hearth, and we gotta change, both of us, otherwise whatever we end up doing could go horribly wrong.”

Gabbro took their hands off Felspar and grabbed a jug of water and two glasses, pouring it into both of them and handing one to Feldspar. “We don’t want to lose you again Feldspar. We don’t want you to disappear. Please, don’t disappear again.”

Feldspar took the glass, silently, and sipped lightly from it. “I know what you want me to do…but I’m scared, Gabbro. It’s…unfamiliar.”

That got a chuckle from Gabbro. “I never heard of you shying away from unfamiliar things before!”

Feldspar smirked. “Yeah, well, unfamiliar things are fun as long as I’m not the one who’ unfamiliar with themselves.” The smirk vanished as quickly as it came. “I really am sorry about what I said earlier. Arete told me you’ve been pretty busy over the last few weeks. And you’re never one to leave someone who needs a hand.”

Gabbro twirled their water as they drank it. “I guess, apology accepted. But Feldspar…” They looked straight at them, and they could see the way Feldspar grew uncomfortable as that stare bored into them like a tree taking root. “I need you to promise me something, promise me…promise me you won’t disappear again. Promise me you’ll tell us where you’re going, because I’ve already lost my fishing buddy once, and I don’t know what I’ll do if it happens again.”

They waited. They expected Feldspar to brush it off, or make a noncommittal “I’ll try” or just refuse to say anything.

After a few seconds, Feldspar set their jaw, their scales shining dully in the lamplight. “Alright,” they conceded. “I promise. I’ll be more careful. For you guys.”

Gabbro didn’t care that they broke their façade to sigh in sheer, utter relief. “Thank you,” they smiled warmly. “That’s all I want, just to make sure we’re all safe.”

There was still the argument lingering in the back of their mind, but as far as they were concerned, it was over, it was in the past. Feldspar had apologized and promised to be more careful, and they would leave it at that. They had to stick together, they had to set examples for the others.

And Gabbro really did want to go fishing with them again if they could. Feldspar was their buddy as much as Arete at this point. (They briefly thought of Chert, though a fluttering feeling made them think they were more than ‘buddies’…)

At that moment, there was a knock on the door, and Gneiss poked their head in. “All sorted?” they asked, smiling at the puzzled looks of the two astronauts. “Ah, good job Gabbro, I’ll bring those bandages over to Tektite’s cabin and we can start washing them after the fire. By the way, you have two more visitors.” They stepped aside, and a sheepish looking Slate and Gossan trudged in.

“Feldspar,” Slate nodded. “Gabbro. We’ve been looking over your ships, and wanted to go over some of the safety features in case there was something you might like to add before the campfire.”

Gabbro heard a snort from behind them. “Slate, I’m sorry, but I’m still not used to hearing you say the word “Safety,” you know?” Gabbro, Gossan and Slate simultaneously rolled their eyes.

“Yeah, well, you’d best start getting used to it, my days of making death traps are officially over!” They scowled at Feldspar, the ghost of a grin edging the corners of their mouth.

“It’s alright,” Feldspar chuckled, “The poet and I have had a bit of a discussion about keeping safe, and…well, maybe I’ll take it a bit more easy after I get back in the pilot’s seat. Out of practice and all that.”

Gossan’s face twisted into pure relief. “Thank the Twins, I was worried I’d have to sit you down to a three hour lecture for that!”

Gabbro grinned. “Nah, we have it taken care of.” They winked at Feldspar with two eyes, and the veteran nodded, though their mischief was tinged with…regret.

That conversation was still there. Maybe it would fade in time, maybe it wouldn’t. Best not dwell on it right now.

Gabbro gestured to Slate. “We can look over those plans. Feldspar, I’ll help you to the table-“

“It’s alright, I’m not that fragile,” they grumbled, hauling themselves up to the table at the end of the room where Slate and Gossan were already spreading sheets of paper. “Let’s see what you guys cooked up!”

They stood there for an hour discussing Feldspar’s modified electrics and retrofitted thruster banks, and a new waterproofing sealant and covering for Gabbro’s ship. When the call came from Rutile for dinner, they all made their way to the campfire happier than when they’d arrived at the cabin.

And sometimes, that’s all you can do. And that’s enough.

Notes:

@Erosophic I hope you like this. I wanted to do a kind of fluff/angst/comfort piece exploring Feldspar's addiction to thrillseeking and Slate's own propensity to explosive contraptions, as well as Gabbro being basically the rock for everyone to rest on, with a bit of Gossan being Gossan on the side. I hope it's enjoyable-I'm still a newbie with dialogue and story flow but it was interesting to bounce these characters and my trenchcoat headcanons off each other!

This took. SO LONG to actually figure out what it would be about. I'm not joking, half the time was spent figuring out the main arc of the fic. Well, it's here now, my 2k plot bunny ballooned to over 8k words. The joys of frantic keyboarding...@PoisonHemloc had a really helpfulpiece of advice, that being "Motivation is fickle and not to be trusted. Sit down with a word document open and set a timer for ten minutes and go." It's surprising how much I wrote after that!

But anyway, it's done, and while things are not 100% okay, they're better than they were before. Sometimes that's all you can do. And sometimes that's enough.

(Also Feldspar's whole fear of giving up bad habits because they're afraid they make them who they are may or may not be a little self-projection disguising itself as a Headcanon trenchcoat and I am not sorry for that at all.)