Another night, another recurring nightmare. Rubbing hard at his watery eyes, Kibum sat up in bed and tried to slow his uneven breathing. His heart was still racing in his chest, a frantic thing struggling to escape his ribcage. He placed a hand against his damp skin and exhaled once, a breathy sound more akin to a sob.

                A month had already gone by since he’d been rescued from his evacuation pod. Slightly longer since Jinki and Crawven had been rescued and taken to the hospital for treatment. Despite that, he was still having the same nightmare. The accident. Shrieking metal and breaking polycarbonate. Icy cold. Jinki’s trembling voice in his coms. Crawven shielding him, protecting him. Burning heat. The smell of charred flesh. Losing Larad and Ercite. The Shine.

                Kibum took another breath and rubbed at his temples with both hands, as if he could massage the memory, and the headache, out of existence. It didn’t help. For either. He groaned and waved his personal screen up. 3:21. “Ugh.” Barely two hours of sleep. It was hard to come by these days. He was always tired and restless. Even though he tried to go out and about, he was skittish and wary; random loud sounds gave him panic attacks and if he heard a siren, he passed out. Even though he had the occasional friend come over from time to time to check on him, he could only pretend to be okay.

                He pinched the bridge of his nose and grimaced, closing his eyes briefly. In the next, he opened them again with a gasp, stomach turning as memory bucked at the opportunity. It took everything he had to swing his legs over the side of the bed and stand up. Doing so made him briefly dizzy and he swayed where he was. Balance returned quickly but the feeling of being off kilter remained as the phantom wail from an old nightmare echoed from under the bed.

                In the dim automatic lighting of the apartment, the shadows felt too long, taking on a haunting life of their own. Even with the new pictures that had been added, it felt all too empty and… accusatory. The dim faces distorted into twisted visages if he looked at them too long. Swallowing hard, he shook his head once and shuffled over to the corner where the table and chairs would be. With a brush of his fingers against the wall, the surfaces rose into place and Kibum settled himself on the stool.

                Pulling up his personal page again, he pushed it out so he could see better and fell back into his nightly ritual: going through the reports and retrieved video from the accident. Galaxy Investigations had done a very good job in salvaging the remnants of the Shine and breaking down the reality of the incident. And since the data drive had been rescued from the wreckage, it had been easy enough to see that negligence hadn’t been a primary cause of the incident so he wasn’t charged with additional accident and repair fees.

                With tired eyes, he traced the words carefully, each sentence already memorized. Mildly reckless behavior with solar wave surfing. Low to minimal risk of incidents. Systems check in the Avov space station showed no red flags. Issue with the booster rotational array from voidbit particles arose later. One or two had been caught at some point and worked their way into the deepest recesses of the array. No issues arose with basic maneuverability but when the full range of motion was utilized, it had caused the booster to stick.

                Kibum swiped the text to the side and played back the overhead recording from the bridge. On mute, it was bearable, but only just. Maintaining the controls. He was nervous. Crawven reached over. Kibum just… sat there. ‘Stop him!’ The Moladhi grabbed the controls and everything spiraled. It was eerie seeing the scene in retrospect. His body jerked around like a ragdoll. Crawven snapping free of the straps. The latticework of cracks appearing on the viewing window from the impact. Him freezing again when he came to. ‘Do something!’ But no. Crawven did. The window broke and space clawed at them, trying to pull them out. The Moladhi dragged them beyond the doors, hitting the emergency switch on the other side.

                Agitated, he swiped the video away and went back to the text. No primary fault of Captain Kibum. A bitter snort escaped him. Incident initiated by Weapons Master Crawven upon forcing controls. Insubordination confirmed. Failure to command appropriately confirmed. Cascading power failure in the engine room upon first impact. Blocked power coil went critical within moments. Artificial gravity failed. Engine components broke free from the supports. Caused substantial injury and damage from internal momentum and propellants.

                For a moment, his hand hovered like he was going to switch back the video. Frozen in place, his body locked up. It was hard to breathe as memories flickered. Gasping, he dropped his hand and clenched it hard on the table. Only once. He had seen the engine room footage only once. And he could not face it again.

                The report told the story after all. Engineer and First Mate Jinki critically wounded in the incident. … crushed… ruptured internal organs… critically burned… Kibum skipped over those words quickly. Put in cryopod stasis for transport and evac. Weapons Master Crawven critically burned and impaled by metallic projectile. Put in cryopod stasis for transport and evac. Evac pod jettisoned and sent on vector course for Starseeker’s Rest. Retrieved two days after incident. Comms Officer Ercite trapped in personal compartment onboard the Shine. Deceased. Body recovered. Medbay Operator Larad trapped in failing ship. Deceased. Body recovered. Bodies and ship recovered four days after incident.

                His death had been relatively fast, but painful. Signs of suffocation combined with the freezing effect of space. He’d watched it once too. Only once. The aftereffects sending him into a full-blown panic attack that left him unconscious and waking up from the floor later. Ercite had been almost peaceful. A slow fading away that was just as painful to watch. Why had they not been able to get free like him? Why did they have to die?

                His own report was pitiful in comparison. Captain Kibum escaped in evac pod. Minor injuries sustained. Banged up and bruised but that was all. Rescued four days after incident. He hadn’t even been flying, just drifting in space. Why had he gotten away so easy? He should have been more hurt. Maybe even killed. Why was he spared so much suffering?

                Final case results pending. How much money would he get for the incident? How much would he have to pay? What compensation would be given to the deceased?

                Contractual financial compensation pending. Did he still have a contract? Did he still want to? The Shine had been salvaged and parts were still left. Would he want to resurrect it? How? Why?

                With a disgusted wave of his hand, Kibum banished the screen and pulled his knees to his chest, perching on the stool precariously. “No primary fault my foot,” he grumbled, resting his head on the tops of his knees as he looked at the wall, flinching when shadows danced in his periphery; familiar haunts of bitter memories tugging at his already frayed nerves.

                If he hadn’t gotten too close to the voidbits…

                If he hadn’t wanted to ride the solar waves…

                If he hadn’t called Crawven up and let him force the controls…

                If he hadn’t left Jinki in the engine room that day…

                If only he’d been a better pilot…

                If only he wasn’t a failure…

                “Jinki,” he whimpered as tears seeped from the corners of his eyes.

 

                Five weeks. It had been five weeks since he’d been rescued. Or so they told him anyway. Jinki didn’t know for sure himself. He only had the dates to go by and they simply seemed to blur into each other, one after another. He was still in the hospital. Still recovering. Still hurting everyday but getting better little by little. Slower than Crawven but better all the same. He could walk on his own now, tottering like an infant on unsteady feet, but not much else.

                “Here. You should try to eat something,” his mother urged, pushing a spoonful of food his direction.

                Awkwardly, he waved it off with a shake of his head. “I’m not hungry,” he assured her, the statement mostly true. If he didn’t move, sometimes he got hungry. But as soon as he attempted to use his arms or… lower body in general, the sensation dissipated. It didn’t hurt so much anymore but it still didn’t feel real. Didn’t feel like him.

                “But you barely touched your food this morning,” she complained worriedly, tired face pinched and worn out. She hadn’t been sleeping much. Had probably been eating about as much as him too. Her cheeks looked sharper than the last time he saw them.

                Jinki looked at her with a conflicted sigh. She was the watcher today. Since he’d come-to in the hospital, there’d been a revolving door of family members – and friends – coming in and out so that he was never alone. Siwoo and Daejung were too young to stay by themselves but he’d had plenty of one-on-one time with Doyun, Hajoon, and his parents. With a grimace, he looked back down at his hand and flexed his synthetic fingers. They felt so real to the touch, covered with fake skin over the titanium alloy frame beneath. “I’ll eat later,” he reasoned, turning to look at the closed doorway wistfully.

                His mother followed his gaze and sighed to herself before setting the food aside. “They say that if your progress continues like it has been, you can come home in another two weeks at the earliest.”

                Jinki looked down with a nod. He was aware; especially that the home she was talking about and the one he wanted to go to were two different places. He held his peace though. It didn’t matter yet anyway. First he had to recover like he’d been doing. Since the beginning, they’d marked each stage with goal posts. After waking up from his stabilizing surgery in a haze of pain and confusion and fear, the first one had simply been staying alive for the next two days. Multiple internal organ failures, crushed lower body, shattered arms from where he remembered bracing when the engine had literally pinned him against the wall before gravity had gone out. A massive concussion and hemorrhaging. He’d still been whole then. They hadn’t replaced anything yet. He just remembered he couldn’t move and everything hurt.

                “I’ll be fine, mom,” he assured her with a nod. ‘Unlike Larad and Ercite.’ He hadn’t heard about them until four days after his surgery when he could finally stay awake without feeling nauseous from the pain or drowsy from the painkillers.

                She laughed at his bravado and forced a smile for him before reaching out to grab his hand in both of hers. The touch receptors worked just fine, but it still felt odd. “I know. Your sister has certainly done her best to make sure of that,” she added with an embarrassed laugh.

                Jinki nodded in agreement. After weighing the pros and cons of trying to repair his broken and shattered bones and ruined muscles or simply replacing them, they’d opted for the latter approach in large part because of Hajoon. Their family wouldn’t have been able to afford the state-of-the-art replacements he’d been given. At least not without Hajoon having made it to the Pros in the time since they’d been gone. Everyone refused to tell him how much it cost but Jinki was pretty sure she’d given up at least a year’s worth of her income for the procedures, each a week apart to make sure the replacements took and he was able to function with them. Doyun promised to help when she could, but she was still in school. And their parents pulled extra shifts as much as they could.

                “Have you…?” he hesitantly started to ask, still looking at the doorway again.

                His mother looked down and shook her head. “Not since that one time,” she explained, her bottom lip in to bite on it harshly.

                Jinki waved the question off quickly to hide his disappointment and worry. From the way they’d explained it, he’d panicked, face white as a sheet and eyes wide. He hadn’t made it more than a foot past the doorway, frozen in place for an eternity before he’d turned to flee. Knowing Kibum, it was more likely he was running away from himself. “It’s fine. He’s probably just busy. I saw the reports and all.”

                His mother looked up with wide, surprised eyes. “Even the video footage?”

                He had to laugh, but it was dry and unamused. “Not the video. Only the Captain has personal access to that.”

                By the way his mother looked away, he could guess she’d probably seen it. Or at least some of it. Maybe from the investigators. Or possibly from the doctors when they were deciding whether to replace his broken parts or fix them.

                He looked down and sniffed once. “I could request it. They’d probably send me the recordings since I am- I was the First Mate,” he explained, biting on his bottom lip uncertainly. “My personal page is back online and with no more trouble.” For a while after the incident, it had been down due to surgeries and connection issues from the head injuries. But it was up and running and since he was one of the surviving members of the Shine, he’d been privy to the reports. On the one hand, he was overjoyed Kibum had only received minor injuries in the incident. That was undeniably a plus. But on the other hand…

                “I’m sure he has a reason for not coming to see you, son,” she murmured, reaching up to brush his hair away from his forehead, glad to get away from the topic of video recordings. His hair was getting long and needed to be cut, but at least that sensation hadn’t changed. The skin grafts to heal the burned side of his face had taken and healed nicely. There wasn’t even any scarring there.

                Jinki nodded and looked down without saying anything. Kibum probably did, but he wasn’t sure they were good reasons. It took all his self-restraint to not check his messages again or try to call once more. He’d sent several but Kibum hadn’t opened them or answered. Nor had he sent any in response. “I miss him,” he whispered, trying to blink away his suddenly blurry vision unsuccessfully.

                “Oh, honey,” his mother crooned, standing up so she could sit on the edge of his bed instead and hug him close. “I know.”

                “Why won’t he talk to me?” Jinki sniffed, leaning harder into his mother’s embrace as he let his mask slip just enough.

                “I don’t know, love,” she murmured with a shake of her head and a kiss on the top of his.

                Jinki didn’t even have the energy to try and command his arms to hug his mom back. He just rested in her embrace and cried softly. “Kibum. Where are you?”

 

                Six weeks. Another interminably long day with an equally long night to look forward to, increasingly terrible nightmares notwithstanding. Kibum stared at the entryway to the hospital, absolutely rooted in place. He should go inside. He should see Jinki. It shouldn’t be this hard. He’d done it for Crawven already. The Moladhi was recovering nicely. Badly burned, his feathers were taking time to grow back, but he was otherwise fully functional and working with Psitassi. No surprise since she was the one funding his medical bills at the moment.

                With a wave, he called his personal screen up and stared at the unopened messages from Jinki. At least one a day since he’d regained consciousness. He couldn’t read the whole of the messages. He would have to open them for that. But the previews were telling enough. I’m glad you’re okay… When can I see you? Where are you staying? What are you doing? Come see me, alright? I miss you… I love you… Where are you? Kibum?

                Exhaling forcefully, he shook his head and closed the screen again. “Just go inside. Just go. Step forward,” he commanded himself, glaring down at his traitorous feet. But even as he looked at them, his vision started to blur. Treacherous thoughts filed into his mind, further binding him in place. ‘It’s your fault he’s hurt.’ ‘You don’t deserve to see him.’ ‘Why would he want to see a failure like you?’ ‘He’s got his family. He doesn’t need you.’

                The memory of walking into the room to see him and suddenly being confronted with Jinki’s entire family just staring at him… Accusations. Anger. Disgust. It was all he could see on their faces. Because Jinki had nearly died and Kibum was… virtually unharmed. He hadn’t been able to protect him. He’d failed in his duty as a Captain and as Jinki’s friend… boyfriend… It suddenly became hard to breathe and Kibum hugged himself tight, digging his fingers into his arms as he fought to keep from sobbing. “I can’t do it,” he hissed, turning and walking away so fast it was almost a run.

                If he didn’t stop… if he had no time to think… such thoughts couldn’t touch him. He lost himself in the hustle and bustle of the city center where constant voices created a white noise to drown out everything else. He looked at contracts blankly and talked to whoever spoke to him first. Pretending he was okay with relative strangers was easy. It was like performing on stage. Going through the motions was enough to satisfy most people. Those that heard about his accident and knew him offered congratulations and warm wishes to get back on his feet. He forced a plastic smile and thanked them, offering some noncommittal answer about when he’d return to being an active Captain.

                “Sorry about your ship.”

                “Sorry about your crew.”

                “When are you going to fly again?”

                “Got a new ship yet?”

                When the questions got too much or the strain too hard, Kibum returned to the apartment. Its silence was soothing to his nerves but the solitude howled at him endlessly. Jinki’s absence ripped him to shreds and left him bleeding out over the memories they had made together that picked him up only to shatter him all over again when he inevitably remembered what had happened to the other man. He couldn’t get the video clips out of his head. The picture of his burned and bloodied face in the cryopod.

                The odd visitor came by to break up the solitude, but it depended on who it was. He could handle Jackson and Passeri, bringing their twin chicks to meet him. Two bundles of curious joy and energy that consumed most of his attention when they plucked at his clothes and pawed at his face. They didn’t ask prying questions. Mostly gossiped and talked about their kids. He thought he was doing a pretty good job of hiding himself. Even with them, it was easy to put on a fake smile and pretend he was fine for a short while. He could laugh and tease like Almighty Key and never let them see how paper thin he really was.

                He could handle the occasional call from Psitassi. She couldn’t or wouldn’t come visit him in person, but that wasn’t too surprising. His apartment wasn’t in the best area and as one of the heirs of her father’s company, she had certain appearances to keep. Especially since she’d married another heir to a different company stationed on Earth 3.0. Gone was the naïve starling he’d interacted with in university. Now she had come into her own and could pull the few political strings when necessary. She didn’t offer any such thing to him, but the option was always there, hovering in the background.

                He could even manage to send messages to the fan club when they tried to reach him from time to time. The farce was easy to maintain. He knew what words they expected to hear and could repeat them effortlessly. They weren’t exactly lies either because he wanted to believe they were true. ‘I’m fine.’ ‘Jinki’s recovering in the hospital.’ ‘The Shine will be back soon.’ ‘We’ll start looking for a crew when everything’s sorted.’ But even as he wrote the words, he didn’t feel them. The only one that rang true for sure was Jinki. He was getting better. But Kibum couldn’t bring himself to face him. Not yet. Maybe not…

                He could never quite finish the thought.

                Every now and then, Jinki’s family members tried to come by. He got messages from Hajoon and Doyun often. They were angry with him. He never opened them to read the rest but headlines of Damn you! or Where the novas are you? or If you don’t get over here… didn’t exactly make him feel any more welcome. Not when he was cursing himself already. And even when he got messages from Mr. and Mrs. Lee, they just made him feel even worse about the whole thing. It’s not your fault… He misses you… Why don’t you come see him?... I know you’re busy but…

                And when they came by his apartment in person, he sat against the door and pretended they weren’t there. Pretended he couldn’t hear them with his hands pressed hard against his ears and his forehead to his folded knees. He couldn’t face them either. Their disappointment. Their sadness. Their blame and their resentment of him. It was his fault after all. All of it. The death of Ercite and Larad. The loss of the Shine. The injuries of Crawven and Jinki. Because he wasn’t enough. Because he was a failure. Just like before. Like when his mother had gotten sick and he could do nothing…

                Star shards. He had no idea what he was going to do when Jinki tried to come home. Wait. No. This wasn’t his home anymore, was it? His family would take him in and make sure he was okay. They’d keep him safe, like Kibum hadn’t been able to. Jinki would be better off with them. Because he didn’t need Kibum and if he wasn’t around Kibum, he wouldn’t be at risk of dying again. Wouldn’t be reminded that he had almost died and Kibum had barely been hurt at all and resent him for it.

                No. It was better that he not come here to this ty apartment that was all Kibum had left. He couldn’t help him the way Jinki needed. Wouldn’t even be able to look at him.

                Novas he was such a coward. Maybe it would be better if he just faded away. Like his mother had. He wasn’t sick like she had been, but he felt it. Broken and useless. A failure of a captain and a failure of a friend.

                Numb, he crawled away from the door and rolled under the bed he just didn’t put up anymore. Like he had years ago, he curled up against the wall, making himself as small as possible. He clapped his hands over his ears like he could shut out the quiet accusations circling around in his head. ‘It’s your fault. It’s all your fault. Everything is your fault.’

 

(a/n: Okay... so not a happy chapter either, but we're getting there! Yes, Kibum is spiraling hard, but I've got a plan and I'm halfway through the next chapter so hopefully you'll get to see it pan out soon! Jinki is coming around after all. ;) Hang tight and please look forward to the next update!)