I just had the weirdest thought, so I wrote it down. That's what fanfiction writers do, right? Anyway, this is an AU where things didn't turn out quite so well for Mark on Mars. Mentions of character death, and yet, isn't angsty, just very odd.
One and a Half for the Road
Dedicated to Napoleon-uh-oh, Happy Halloween... in March!
October in Florida isn't like October anywhere else in the United States. Sure, the warm weather wasn't unique, but there were things that happened in Florida that just didn't happen in saner locales. Other states get wind storms that blow roofs off of houses. Florida gets hurricanes that blow them away. Other states have potholes that damage cars, Florida has sinkholes that swallow cars. Other people have to put up with cats wandering onto their property. Floridians have to beware of alligators in their yard.
One last thing, outside of Houston, Florida has the highest population of nutcases who like to sit on bombs and get blasted into space. That's why four out of six of the Ares III crew lived near Cape Canaveral. The fifth was in Bremen, Germany.
The sixth... Melissa mentally shook herself. She needed to focus on the living, now. Right now, that meant worrying about Beth Johannsen. Her husband tried to take her mind off it by taking her to a local diner for a hamburger and a glass of Bugnutty beer.
He didn't succeed in taking her mind off, but she tried to be subtle when she checked her phone, again.
"Still no word on Baby Beck-Johannsen?" Robert asked, amusement clear in his voice.
She hadn't succeeded, either. Melissa winced. "Sorry," she said.
Robert patted her hand. "You wouldn't be you if you didn't care so much," he said. "Especially when this baby is, what, three weeks over due?"
Melissa nodded.
"Tell you what," Robert said. "I'll go powder your nose... I mean, my nose and you call Chris and Beth and find out if the doctor's ordered a cesarean."
"You're the best, babe," Melissa said towards his back. Before she could punch in Beck's number, however, she sensed somebody approach from behind her. She made a wry face. Typical reporter move, wait until the subject was alone and then pounce. She took a deep breath, determined to be pleasant, if possible. Journalists had done a lot to win support for the Ares program after...
"Commander Lewis!" a man's voice said warmly.
Melissa's heart gave a leap of delight at the familiar voice. This will be a friendly chat, not something creepy. Then memory caught up...
And things got creepy...
As Mark Watney sat down at her table.
"You're dead!" Melissa blurted.
"So I am."
"On MARS!"
Watney grinned at her. God, she'd missed that mischievous smirk.
"It's Halloween, I'm allowed," he said. "So, you're still blaming yourself, aren't you?"
"Um," Melissa said.
"Figures," Watney said cheerfully. He looked wistfully at Robert's beer then looked around and signaled to the waiter, pointing to Robert's beer.
The waiter looked from Mark to Melissa.
Melissa nodded. To Mark, she added. "You don't even know what brand that is."
Mark shrugged. "Doesn't matter, I've been dying for a brew..." He noticed the expression on her face as he said that. "Sorry, still too soon?"
She nodded.
"Anyway, it's been years since I've had any booze."
Robert came from the men's room and stopped when he saw Melissa talking to somebody. From her body language, he deduced that this was not an unwelcome intruder. Probably a fellow astronaut who was also worried about the Becks... Then he recognized the face.
Holy...
He stopped the waiter. "Excuse me," he said. "Do you see that man sitting with my wife?"
The waiter looked back and hesitated. "Yes, sir," he said. "He ordered a beer... Should I not bring him one?"
"No, no," Robert said. "I just wanted to be sure... Never mind. Put it on my tab." There wasn't any other rational way to end that sentence.
He rejoined Melissa at the table, sitting next to her instead of across. He wanted to be able to see Watney's face. Plus the idea of sitting next to a dead man was unnerving.
"Robert! Hi!" Mark said, in a surprisingly good mood for a dead man.
"You're..." he stopped, not sure how to bring up the subject.
"Dead, on Mars," Mark supplied. He gestured towards Melissa. "We've already been over that."
"But you're here," Robert said. "Everybody can see you."
"That's right," Mark said. "I've noticed that people are trying to figure out who I am and if it's okay to ask for an autograph."
Robert noticed that the other diners were lingering over their food and eyeing them uncertainly. Several of the staff were peeking out of the kitchen, too.
There was a buzz and Melissa's eyes flickered to her phone. She didn't recognize the number.
"Really, Lewis? Really?" Mark complained. "I came a long way to see you. You can at least pay attention."
Robert wasn't used to seeing his wife get flustered, but these weren't exactly normal circumstances. Later, he'd feel gratitude that Mark didn't seem to be angry at Melissa. Right then, he just wanted to know what was going on. "Why are you here?" Robert asked bluntly.
Mark's beer arrived at that moment and Mark held up a finger as he drained half the glass in one swallow. "Oh, man, that's stuff's the bomb," he said. "Sorry, you were asking...?"
"Why aren't you in Heaven or... whatever you believe in," Robert said.
"Well, I was supposed to be heading out to Saturn..."
Robert blinked at the non-sequitur.
"Wait, that's a reference to that crazy book you found at the dollar store, isn't it?" Melissa accused.
Mark grinned. "You remembered!" To Robert, he added. "Martinez and I decided we needed some decorations for St. Patrick's Day and we went into the nearest, cheapest store we could find. In addition to foil leprechauns and pipe cleaner shamrocks, they had books, actual paper books, including this one that claimed that Heaven was on Saturn..." he shook his head and took another drink. "Fun times, fun times..."
"You didn't answer the question," Melissa pointed out, putting on her Commander Face.
Mark just grinned at her. "Can't get anything by you, can I?"
Melissa's phone buzzed again. This time she ignored it.
"So, why'd you come back from the dead?" she asked. Robert wasn't the only one who could be blunt.
"I just wanted to ask you to ask, no to insist, that Beck and Johannsen..." Mark paused. "For God's sake, do NOT name their daughter after me!"
Melissa and Robert gaped at him.
Mark nodded and stole Robert's beer. "Seriously," he said. "It would be horrible for the poor kid. Marcia's okay, if you can get past the Brady Bunch jokes, but Marcella? Or, God forbid, MARKIA?" He finished Robert's beer and shuddered. "No, just no..."
Melissa and Robert exchanged glances.
"You're kidding," Melissa said. "You show up, millions of miles and half a decade after... just to guzzle beer and complain about baby names?"
"Nope."
"No, you're not kidding or no, that's not why you're here?" Robert asked.
Melissa's phone buzzed again.
"Oh, that's them, by the way," Mark said casually. "Welp, gotta go, see you... not soon."
He was gone, leaving two empty glasses and more than two bewildered people, judging by the reactions of the other diners and the staff.
Melissa checked her phone. "Beth's gone into labor," she said. "We need to get going." She was almost annoyed at Mark for delaying them... but... How could she be annoyed at him?
They paid up, figured the tip and headed towards the door, Melissa still worrying over the encounter.
"This makes no sense," she said to Robert. She didn't see any point of trying to keep this a secret. Between the staff and the other diners, there were at least a dozen witnesses to this encounter. "What was the point? Mark didn't say anything of importance. He didn't even say if he forgave me..."
There was a roar from outside. Everyone rushed to a window just in time to witness a sinkhole pop open and swallow the parking lot and everything in it, including the car Melissa and Robert may or may not have reached if Watney hadn't delayed them.
Everybody else was staring, so Melissa took a moment to look around. She half expected Mark to be around to give her a wink or something, but the back of the diner was empty.
"I think Mark's decided on forgiveness, Babe," Robert said. His matter-of-fact tone might have been due to shock.
They'd have to sort that out later. Right now, Melissa punched in the number that the earlier text had come from and got Mrs. Johannsen. "This is Melissa Lewis," she said. "Please tell Beth and Chris that we'll be there as soon as we can..." she looked out at the parking lot. "We're having a little car trouble."