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?

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[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.