text | un: m.cabrera

[naloxone]

[ turns out? space doesn't give a single fuck about your circadian rhythm. or maybe insomnia is just that attached to her that even the absence of a sun dictating her internal clock doesn't faze it, like an old friend you wish would just forget you already.

one night (?) late into the early hours (???) marta finds herself drifting out of the room she's come to assume will be hers for the indefinite future, passing through stark white walls with all the sterility of a hospital, but none of its familiar chaos.

she's still getting used to the earpiece. still getting used to hearing other people's voices in her head. she doesn't mean to add another in the void, but one of her own thoughts blares out too vividly as she stares out into an actual void: ]

—but where are the stars?

Comments

[naloxone]

[ it had been a crapshoot, going with the name he'd used on the network. there's a 50/50 chance people would have resorted to their actual name, but marta remembers the times of instant messaging and social media. if people want to refer to themselves as doctor disco or all_the_jingle_ladies then who is she to deny them that joy?

that said, it's nice to be able to have a proper name to work with off the bat. ]

Marta. [ she's not cool enough to go by her last name, kovacs.

a polite thank you is murmured before she takes the seat opposite him, and though she hadn't been looking for a drink before all this, the night's long hours have finally begun to wear on her and with nothing else to do, with not even the stars to ground her anymore, a drink seems like a pretty good consolation prize.

(though if she were to be completely honest, it's the company that she yearns for more.)

seat taken, drink poured. marta cradles the glass in her hand for a long, contemplative second before her grip on it tightens, and she's lifting it towards him in a toast. ]

Salud.

[ and then she's tipping her head back to toss the glass' contents like the shot it wasn't meant to be, keeping her eyes closed and her lips pursed the entire time the liquid burns itself down her throat, past her ribs before settling deeply into her gut. the medical professional part of her brain reminds her she hadn't had anything substantial to eat since waking that day, but the other parts of her brain that is still working to process the day itself says that first part can gently kiss her ass. ]

[kovach]

[ not having a weird name on the network saves time on having to make introductions, especially since most people tend to end up calling him kovacs anyway (and there's almost ... too much of a familiarity to have everyone on the station throwing around "takeshi" at him). honestly, if people didn't clarify their actual names, he'd just call them all by whatever the hell they set that up as.

her quiet nerves seems to easily suggest she's new as if he hadn't already concluded that, but it's when she suddenly downs the entire glass in one swift toss that it becomes even more inevitable that she's likely trying to keep herself together tonight.

maybe the prospect of space is too much for her, or maybe she's already regretting whatever deal she's made. he's had the latter thoughts himself. ]

Might wanna slow it down there, Marta. Only got limited stock on the hard stuff until next supply drop.

[ he doesn't seem to actually be judging her though, since he's already tipping the bottle again to fill up her glass again. considering his own usual whiskey intake, he welcomes her to as much as she needs. ]

Rough first day?

[naloxone]

Something like that.

[ her smile is wry, and just a little bit bashful as a result of her over-eagerness. even though his words seem to be in gentle teasing, she does make a dedicated effort to nurse the next one, simply curling her hands around the refilled glass instead of immediately tossing it back. though trust that the urge is there.

she takes in a deep breath, lets it out in a quiet, measured sigh. ]

Last night I went to sleep and talked to a voice in my dreams. [ she looks up from the amber liquid to glance around her, like she hasn't already done that a thousand times that day, like she's still anywhere closer to believing it. ] Tonight I'm here. In space.

[ there's a pause, and then her gaze drops down to kovacs. there's a slight furrow in her brow, almost guilty. ]

But I guess that's everyone's story.

[kovach]

[ honestly, if she'd wanted to toss that one back too, he wouldn't necessarily judge her on it either, even if he'd probably suggest her to tone it down after that, just on account of knowing the likely terrible hangover she'd be sporting later. he still remembers his first day, showing up with a slew of injuries, near-death, still woozy from getting his ass very thoroughly kicked right before seeing a vision of his sister potentially still alive.

of course, he'd understood later it was all just in his head, just like all of his routine hallucinations, the past still swirling to haunt him even now, months after the side effects should have gone away.

he gives a shrug when she seems uncertain about her own discomfort on the situation compared to everyone else's. ]

Everyone feels different about it. We all got different stories, different experience — for some people, it's a cake walk through just another day; for others, it's gonna be a hell of a lot.

[ he can tell which camp she's in. ]

You'll be disoriented about it for a while, but the deal you made becomes clearer. And when it does, you can still decide if this is something you really want to do. Some people do leave. [ he looks at the liquid in his glass, tilting it to let it swirl around. ] You don't actually have to do this. Not unless it's really worth it.

[naloxone]

[ somehow, it had never occured to marta to leave. to hear it's not only possible, but that others have done it before gives her the strangest feeling — some quiet, distant acknowledgement that is both understanding but unfathomable. yes, it is apparently possible. but is it an option for her?

even now, overwhelmed as she is, lost as she feels, the idea of taking it back and rescinding an offer that still seems too good to be true feels not only foolish, but self-destructive. if she feels this badly now, how much more terrible would she feel going home knowing she let an opportunity to save her friend go to waste? ]

I have to believe it is.

[ and that's just it, plain and simple. for harlan, for her.

she lifts her glass towards him, but doesn't tip it back just yet. putting on a brave smile, forcing some life back into the exhaustion on the lines of her face. ]

What should we toast on?

[kovach]

[ as far as he knows, he could have left at any time, but he knows what awaits him when he goes back, how he'd just be back in the hands of bancroft, having to solve a murder that's so entangled in strings that he's almost too concerned with what he might find when it resolves itself. what he gets in solving that mystery will be his freedom, but he's still curious about the prize that comes with this deal, if it's even actually possible.

marta seems like she's concerned, but her voice shows her conviction all the same. he doesn't know what she's bargaining for, but he hopes she doesn't end up disappointed.

he huffs a light chuckle at her sudden shift towards positivity, even if he can feel it subtly forced. but he'll indulge her on it, raising his own glass towards her. ]

Here's to surviving this shit. [ positivity, right? ] And your first night out in space.

[naloxone]

[ her lips twist wryly, knowing he's only humoring her at this point. still, she appreciates it. ]

To surviving.

[ taking his words, making it into something a little less resigned and into something a little more congratulatory. not a let's hope we can do it but a we've done it so far, we'll keep doing it till we can't.

she reaches across the table, clinking his glass with hers. ]

Salud.