Author's Note: This ficlet's been circling around in my head for awhile, and I've been working on it the last several weeks. It didn't come out quite the way I had planned, and though I still like it, I'm not entirely it fits with the movie. Constructive CRITICISM would be lovely.



Jack floated through the narrow passage way from the LEM to the Odyssey, clutching a packet of water in his right hand. Over the last several days he'd grown attached to the command module beyond his wildest dreams. It had even gotten to the point that a simple act such as eating or drinking was infinitely easier in the frozen Odyssey than in the LEM. He didn't know exactly why but he had his suspicions.

The other men didn't like him, he knew. They had never liked him, at least not much, simply because they wanted Ken. They knew it should be Ken on this mission and they wanted him just as Jack had an intense, painful longing for the rest of his crew. Whatever light bond might have been formed by the joys of space flight and the laughter of filming their broadcast had been destroyed by an oxygen stir. And Aquarius, simply put, was a reminder of everything that he did not want to think about.

It was odd, really. He had never thought he cared much what people thought of him, but now that he was up here, more or less staring death in the face, he wanted nothing more than to have his companions like him. To have someone to talk to.
Just the thought made him laugh quietly to himself. There was a fat chance of either Jim or Fred caring that being so cold scared him. Or that - when you came right down to it - he was scared of death as well.

Emerging into the Odyssey was like a breath of fresh air. Except - there was a white jumpsuit already in the ship, back facing him. He swallowed. Jim had been in the Aquarius, so he'd assumed Fred had been as well.

This piece of shit's gonna get you home, Jack! It's about all we have left now!

The words rang in his ears just as they had when he'd first heard them, ricocheting back and forth inside his scull. He remembered the way he'd recoiled as Fred had spat them out, almost as though it had been a physical blow, how the levels of self-directed blame he'd been feeling had multiplied exponentially. . . Jack shook his head slightly, trying to clear it. He hadn't really been that upset about the incident. Had he? Somehow being alone with Fred brought the whole thing back much more vividly. . .

He turned to go, but his foot caught on a lever, bumping audibly on the hull. Jack winced. He really hadn't wanted Fred to know he was here.

Ji - Jack.

Hey, Fred, Jack answered, not meeting the man's gaze. He disentangled himself, then started to head back down the tunnel to the LEM.

You're leaving.

Jack paused. A blanket statement, nothing more. He turned back, keeping one hand on the ceiling for balance.



Fred looked him up and down.

How long have you been here?

A couple of minutes, he answered, ignoring an intense desire to scream. I. . . you know. . . I didn't think you'd be here.

You spend an awful lot of time up here, Fred noted, moving his hands up to his arm pits.

Jack maneuvered himself back up to the command module.

I don't know how you stand it.

he asked, ripping the water open and sucking on a drop. The fact that it's freezing or that you two are always hunkered down in the LEM?



Please, Fred, give me a break. Give me a straight question. I'm scared. Actually, I'm going to die. And right now I'm just desperate for someone to admit it to.

Never mind.

Fred unfolded his arms, slowly and painfully.

Seriously, Jack, he whispered, and at that moment Jack realized exactly how awful Fred must be feeling." What's up?

Have you ever thought you'd die? I mean, been about eighty percent sure it was going to happen?

Nothing. I'm fine, Fred.



Jack blinked. Was it his imagination, or was there a faint note of disappointment in Fred's voice?

He asked quietly.

Fred's head dipped down slightly, but he didn't answer.



A knot suddenly forming in his chest, he eased himself forward, then reached out and gripped Fred's wrist.

Good God, Fred! he whispered, feeling as though he'd been punched in the stomach.

Fred finally looked up, his eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot. Jack - I - I'm not hot.

You're burning up, Fred! Jack hissed. And look - Fred, you've got every reason not to admit that to me, but - he paused. Please tell me you've told Jim.

Fred shook shook his head. That's not what I mean, Jack, he protested hoarsely. I mean - I can't tell. Anymore.



I know I'm sick. I've never had a fever this high in my life, but - he looked up, wildly. Jack - I'm freezing. . .and burning up. His voice trailed off.

Without wasting time wondering how the other man would react, Jack wrapped his arms around him tightly, hugging him close, and rubbing his muscles. If he couldn't fix Fred's fever, at least he could do something for the part of him that thought he was cold.

Just think, Fred. You'll enjoy being home ten times more than the rest of us. And that's saying something.

Jack -

And you'll have a fresh meal waiting for you, Jack barreled on, trying to avoid hearing what he was fairly sure Fred was going to say. You and Jim. Me, I'll get out of that spacesuit and be faced with cleaning the living room.

Jack, I'm dying,! Fred burst out, and then lowered his voice. I think - I think I'm dying.
Jack clutched Fred tightly for a minute, just letting them hang there quietly.

That was pretty much my diagnosis, he said. For me.

Fred laughed, then broke into coughs. Our last moments, he said a rough edge to his voice. He paused. We're going to bounce off the atmosphere?

Most likely, Jack said. Or possibly incinerate. You know - if we don't bounce off.

Fred clutched his jumpsuit. Oh, God, he murmured.

Fred - Jack said quietly.



I wish I were Ken.

Fred looked up sharply. Jack -

I mean it! You - you trained with him.

Jack - ''

You want him up here and he doesn't have the measles! His voice was rising, though he honestly didn't know why.

Jack, shut up! Fred gasped. Just shut up! You've basically pronounced us dead and I believe you. I hated you because I believed you. And before that, I hated you because you were usually right.

Jack stared. Thank you, he said, finally.

Fred gave another hoarse laugh. Why didn't you let us know you had a sense of humor? he asked.

After those dirty looks during training? he asked, surprised that it wasn't obvious. You'd have throttled me if I so much as cracked a smile.

I would have, wouldn't I? he said, after a moment's consideration.

Jack said, unwilling to be gentle.

Jack, can you -

Forget about it? he interrupted, leaping at the chance, hating how he sounded like a four-year-old who had just heard the word candy'.

Well. . .that's the idea. Fred eyed him warily.

Jack said immediately.

Jack -

Fred, look. I'm not forgetting what you said and did, I'm just trying to - you know - avoid anymore - he stopped as Fred's face went white and he started gasping again.
he murmured, massaging Fred's chest, along his lungs. Easy, easy.

Slowly, incrementally slowly, Fred went quiet.

You're a good guy, Jack, he said at last.

Jack smiled wanly and shrugged, worried about what he hoped was his newest friend.

Thank you, Fred instructed, his voice suddenly intense. Thank you.

Thank you, Jack agreed, duly chastised. He grinned suddenly unable to stop himself and, to his slight surprise, Fred managed a smile back.





~The End~