Disclaimer: I don't own Armageddon or the characters from the movie. The only thing I own is Charlie.

There was a new and strong sense of comradery amongst them when they finally shook off the events in the cargo bay and got back to work.

For the first time since they'd met, they were all completely on the same page; there was no bravado, no competition…just a group of people that were putting their petty differences aside and finally working together.

Even with everything that had happened, it was a good feeling.

"Ok, guys. All go, no quit. How you doin' down there? Good?"

Charlotte couldn't help but smile at Rockhound's antics as she struggled to tighten the final bolt on the freshly installed transmission. "Try it now, Maxie!"

There was the sound of the machinery powering up just before the transmission started to turn, smoothly and without trouble. Chick clapped his hands. "Ok, we got the tranny. We're back in business!"

"Hey, you guys should take a break and come up and see this. We got a great view of the Earth from here."

She glanced up to where Rockhound was standing on a nearby outcropping, his gaze presumably locked on the Earth, which was clearly visible through a gap between the rocks.

Charlotte knew how beautiful it was, she'd seen it when they'd first landed, but she couldn't bear to look at it again; the very sight of it—incandescent and perfect—made her far too uneasy. She had enough anxiety as it was.

"Too bad we'll never set foot on her again."

And it was that anxiety and those thoughtless words coupled together that made her call out to him. "Hey Rock?" He turned to look at her and she sent him a truly livid glare. "Think you could shut up?"

Harry, Chick, and Max all laughed and Rockhound simply stared at her for a second before shrugging his shoulders, looking back towards Earth. "Just sayin', Charlie-baby, it's possible."

No one paid attention to him as he walked slowly back down towards the rest of them, his steps oddly energetic for someone who was talking about death only a couple of seconds beforehand.

For her part, Charlotte was in her own little bubble as she worked, looking down at the cleanly rotating drill arm and singing quietly to herself.

She'd always had a soundtrack for whenever she was working on the rig, an old mix tape that she'd carried around with her in a beat-up walkman that Noonan had had to repair for her at least a dozen times over the years.

ACDC. Led Zeppelin. Bad Company. Redbone. And her absolute favourite: The Tragically Hip.

It was her own version of Awesome Mix Vol. 1 and even though she didn't have the tape with her there, she could hear each song clearly in her head as if she had her headphones in and the volume at full blast.

She didn't notice Max grinning inside the Armadillo as he listened to her and when he spoke into his microphone it was with amusement in his voice. "What are you listenin' to tonight, Charlie?"

She sent him a small smile, playing along. "Thought all this called for something from the top shelf. New Orleans Is Sinking."

"Can't go wrong with The Hip!" Chick huffed a laugh and patted her shoulder affectionately. "Good choice, kid."

"At least it ain't disco. Remember when she went through that Donna Summers phase last year? Hot Stuff, played over and over again—"

"Hey!" She looked up at Max pointedly. "That's a good song, don't knock it."

"At least I know she grew up with good taste…" Harry's words trailed off somewhat lamely and it was so out of character for him that Charlotte looked over at him. She saw right away that he was staring across the valley at the Colonel, who was silently working away on the satellite hook-up for their radio. "Well," he sighed, making a face. "Good taste in music, anyway."

There were barks of laughter as Charlotte fired out and smacked him in the arm, giving him a dirty look.

None of them even noticed the corner of Sharp's mouth lift in a gentle smile.

After a moment or two of giggles, which she knew they all needed, the tone shifted back to one of seriousness. Harry picked up a small section of pipe and looked up towards the Armadillo as Sharp moved to stand next to him. "Give me a depth reading, Max."

"We're at a hundred and fifty feet, Harry."

"Yee-ha! Ride 'em, cowboy!"

The manic shout rang out from out of nowhere and Charlotte and Harry looked at each other, the expression of disgust and confusion on his face nearly enough to make her laugh. But when she followed the noise, her gaze falling on Rockhound as he straddled the disabled but still-very-capable-of-mass-destruction bomb, the humour left her in a flash and she couldn't stop her eyes from widening in shock.

"Yippee-kai-yo, kai-ye!"

The icy glare on Sharp's face was truly a sight to behold and she decided right then and there that if Rockhound wasn't affected by it, he was even further around the bend than she thought he was. "Get off…the nuclear…warhead."

"I was doin' that guy from that movie, you know, Slim Pickens, where he rides it all the way in, the nuclear warhead."

Sharp didn't even blink. "Now."

"Oh, you didn't see that one, huh?"

"We got seven-hundred feet of hole to dig, Rockhound."

"Alright, just…wanted to feel the power between my legs, brother." He turned suddenly and gestured towards Charlotte. "Charlie knows what I'm talkin' about—right, Charlie?"

And then the crazy bastard winked at her.

The hidden meaning in his words made Charlotte's eyes widen even further as Rockhound, finally on his feet, directed his attention to the still-glaring Colonel. "Hey Sharp?" And short pause, and then, "No nukes! No nukes! No nukes!"

The chanting echoed loudly in their earpieces and Sharp looked at her before turning his eyes, somewhat disbelieving, to Harry.

Harry didn't even bother trying to explain or make excuses, settling instead for a simple question.

"You got any more bullets in that gun, Sharp?"

There was a hiss of air as the elevator door slid open and Charlotte stepped out quickly, pulling off her helmet as she went. She'd been in desperate need of an ibuprofen and a drink of water for going on an hour and Chick had been kind of enough to take over control of the tranny so she could slip away.

She knew that the first aid kit in the command deck's storage cabinet would have something she could take and she made her way to it quickly, setting her helmet down on the nearest chair.

The second her hand made contact with the handle of the cabinet, Watts came barrelling in, her eyes focused on her clipboard. "Sharp, I've been trying to re-wire electrical and I need your help to—" She fell silent when she realized who she was speaking to and cleared her throat awkwardly. "Scofield. I was expecting the Colonel."

Charlotte had no problem admitting to herself that she still hadn't completely warmed up to the other woman, finding her strict manner just a tad off-putting. On some level she could understand why she was like that. They weren't there to make friends or win popularity contests; they were there to do a job, a very important job. And if Watts kept herself focused by keeping her back straight and her voice authoritative, than who was Charlotte to argue with it?

But then, when she thought about it, Sharp was like that, too.

That fact alone made it forgivable.

She tried to smile. "Yeah, sorry. He's outside."

There was a slightly uncomfortable silence between them and Charlotte turned back towards the cabinet, pulling the door open. The shelves were packed tightly with various supplies and she had to squint in the strange blue glow of the cabin to find the bottle she was looking for.

Ibuprofen.

Come to mama.

"Headache?"

She jumped slightly at the sound of Watts' voice, the contents of the pill bottle rattling—she hadn't been expecting the co-pilot to still be there. With a nervous laugh, she glanced at the other woman over her shoulder. "Yeah, I uh…I think it's stress."

"Lack of sleep and proper meals probably isn't helping, either."

"Haven't had much time."

Speaking of time, Charlotte wasted none of it as she cracked open the pill bottle and tipped two of the capsules into her palm.

They'd each been given a personalized and reusable NASA water bottle for the trip and for the life of her she had no idea where hers had ended up in the chaos of the landing. Turning around to start the search she very nearly jumped again when Watts appeared beside her, a water bottle with the name Scofield emblazoned on it in her hand.

She held it out and Charlotte sent the woman another awkward smile. "Thanks."

"How are things going out there?"

"Better now." She popped a pill into her mouth and took a quick drink of water. "We got the transmission switched out, we're getting there."

"And everyone's getting along?" Charlotte couldn't help feeling surprised at the teasing lilt of Watts' voice and that surprise must've been visible on her face because the co-pilot smiled, crossing her arms over her chest. "Things were…tense in here earlier, just wanted to be sure."

"I think we've all reached an understanding."

Watts took that for what it was and nodded, leaning casually in the doorway. "Look, Scofield…" She hesitated for a moment and Charlotte watched her, waiting patiently for the other woman to find her words. "You and the Colonel—" A tidal wave of embarrassment washed over her and she opened her mouth to speak but Watts held up a hand, silencing her in a second. "Don't be embarrassed, I just…I'm sure you realize that it isn't normal, what's happening between you and him."

"Normal?"

"I don't mean that the way it sounds. I just mean that the Colonel is a very private man, a very serious man, and you seem to be the opposite of those things—" Charlotte quirked an eyebrow as if to say 'what's that supposed to mean?' and Watts let out a nervous and uncharacteristic laugh. "All I'm saying is, I've known him for a long time and I've never seen him act this way."

As Charlotte stood there watching this woman move uncomfortably from foot to foot, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd ever had a girlfriend before; someone to drink wine with, watch cheesy romantic movies with, gossip about men with. Charlotte may have been a tomboy both in childhood and now into adulthood, but she knew how to talk to other women. She'd been gossiping with Grace about boys and the like for years and she felt bad for this grown woman in front of her that seemed, for some reason, to find such conversations awkward.

Now granted, they weren't friends…but they both had lady-parts, and in any other circumstance, that would be enough.

"Watts—" She felt stupid having a conversation like that in their current situation and under their current circumstances, but she obliged, gladly taking the opportunity to tune out of the drama for a moment. "I didn't plan this and I know that he didn't. It's just one of those things: relationships based on intense experiences, and all that junk."

Watts smiled, nodding her head. "I know exactly what you mean."

"You do?"

"I was visiting family in Las Vegas and I got stuck in a hotel elevator with my dog." She held out her left hand where there was a visible tan line on her ring finger. "Guess there's something about a fireman rescuing a golden retriever from an elevator that gets a girl all tingly."

Charlotte couldn't help it, she laughed.

Their conversation was strange, slightly awkward, and completely inappropriate given what they were there doing, but Charlotte couldn't find it within herself to care.

It was nice to just sit and talk to someone about regular everyday things for once—marriages, men, golden retrievers—and not think about the catastrophe that was unfolding just outside.

It was the first time that Watts had shown another side of herself.

A friendly side.

And Charlotte was thankful for it.

There was a very distinct rumbling in the air when she left the shuttle and she tried her best to ignore it as she knelt down in the dirt beside Chick, doing what she could to help him and Sharp with the hoist line that was lowering a new pipe into the hole.

Harry was standing above them, watching the tension in the line closely. "Rockhound, keep on that transmission."

"Tranny looks good, Harry."

"Alright, take it outta there." Harry pointed to the spot where the two sections of pipe connected. "Lock it down, Chick…and Charlie, watch your damn fingers."

She looked up at him. "Relax, Harry, I've done this a thousand times."

"Yeah, right. Let's see if you tell me to relax when you lose a finger at the knuckle."

She made eye contact with Chick and rolled her eyes.

The deafening sound of machine gun fire suddenly exploded from somewhere nearby and Charlotte looked around wildly as bullets rained down on her in a shower of sparks, kicking up dirt and rock as they shot into the ground.

Harry placed a hand on her helmet and forced her head down, yelling, "What the hell is that?"

"It's Rockhound!"

Harry left her side almost immediately, taking off towards the Armadillo at a run.

Rockhound was standing on the roof, yelling and laughing like a crazy man as he held what looked like some sort of virtual reality type thing in his hands; a device that was somehow controlling the enormous gun that was mounted on the roof of the Armadillo. She had her eyes on him for less than a second before another round of bullets peppered the area where she was sitting and she had no choice but to throw herself to the ground. Chick and Sharp followed suit, the former of which angled his body so that he fell on top of her, shielding her from flying pieces of metal and debris.

All she could hear was Rockhound's laughter mixed in with the loud gunfire, her body pressed down into the hard ground.

And then as quickly as it had all started, there was silence.

Silence except for the ear-piercing voice of her father, who'd football-tackled Rockhound from the roof of the Armadillo all the way down to the ground below. "What the hell's the matter with you, Rockhound?!"

Chick's weight disappeared from her back and she let out a breath, looking up into the eyes of Sharp who appeared to be just as breathless and riled up as she was. He extended a hand out to her and she didn't hesitate in taking it, allowing him to help her to her feet.

She pretended not to notice the causal once-over he gave her as she stood up, looking her up and down as if to check and make sure that there were no new holes in anything vital. Once he was satisfied that she was unharmed he locked eyes with Gruber who had moved to stand with them in the aftermath.

Will shook his head, speaking in a quiet voice. "This is insane."

The spectacle that was taking place next to the massive tires of the Armadillo as Harry wrestled with an openly sobbing Rockhound was truly one of the most depressing things she'd ever seen.

A lot could be said about Rockhound.

He was crude, self-righteous, and sometimes downright lecherous. But on the flip side of that he was also intelligent, thoughtful, honest, and protective of those he cared about most. They all knew that something was wrong and it had been for a while. He hadn't been right since they'd diffused the bomb.

"He's got space dementia."

"Space dementia? That's a thing?"

"Oh yeah." Gruber nodded at her, his face serious. "Yeah, it's a thing."

"Harry, you want to watch your man." Harry sent Sharp an exhausted nod to show he'd heard and then the Colonel made eye contact with Gruber again over his shoulder. "You know what to do."

"The duct tape?"

"The duct tape."

"Wait, wait, wait," Charlotte very nearly laughed. "Duct tape? What are you gonna do with that?"

Will explained, "Standard NASA procedure and guideline for emergencies and dealing with astronauts in crisis—duct tape that astronaut to a chair and administer tranquilizers."

"Tranquilizers?"

"I think we have a couple tabs of valium in the kit."

A burst of flame suddenly exploded from around the drill arm and it was so bright she had to shield her eyes.

Gas pocket.

Harry was also staring at it and when he spoke his voice was calm despite the panic that was evident on his face. "Max…downshift slowly and put it in reverse. We gotta get that pipe outta there—"

That flames erupted again with more force and at the same time the ground started violently shaking, causing Charlotte, Chick, and Sharp to all sway on their feet. The rumbling that she'd heard earlier was back and louder than before and was Max trying to speak over it, "What's happening!?"

And then there was panic, Sharp yelling loudly enough to hurt her ears. "The ground's cracking!"

"Earthquake!"

Enormous cracks were appearing around their entire drill site as the surface of the asteroid split right open, the pressure fighting to escape. Steam and smoke was billowing out all around them and it was hard to see, made even worse by the layers of dirt and condensation covering her visor.

No longer able to stay upright she tumbled to the ground and tried her best to keep her eyes on Harry, who had fallen a short distance away from her. The ground was coming apart under his feet and his left leg fell into a widening crevice, but he wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to where his limbs were.

He was frantically waving an arm at Max, his voice hoarse from screaming. "Shut it off! Shut it off now!"

"We're gonna have a blowout!"

"We hit a gas pocket!"

Max was flipping switches and pressing buttons inside the Armadillo as he fought against the fiercely shaking drill arm. "We got pressure out the ass!" The pressure was in fact so strong that the Armadillo was briefly lifted off its wheels before slamming back down to the surface, Max stumbling around inside as he tried to stay in control of the machine.

Harry, who'd finally managed to get back on his feet, was still waving his arms. "Max, get your helmet on! She's gonna blow!"

Charlotte steeled herself and slowly struggled to stand up, trying her best to keep her balance as she started towards the Armadillo where Harry was nearly hysterical with panic. The ground was so unstable that her body felt a thousand times heavier than it was, as if her feet and legs were weighed down with cinder blocks. Each step required an effort that practically stole her breath away.

They had to get Max out, they had break the glass of the cabin or climb up to the hatch and pull him out. Something. Anything.

She could climb up there, she knew she could. She just had to get herself over there.

"Max, get outta there!"

Even through the material of her suit she could feel the hellacious heat coming from the flames and as Max screamed out her father's name, a primal scream full of fear and agony, another brutal explosion sent the Armadillo careening into the air.

The atmosphere itself was on fire and Charlotte had no choice but to drop back down to the ground again, not wanting to watch but unable to stop herself as the Armadillo broke apart in a tremendous blast that sent pieces of metal and rock shooting out in every direction.

There was a white hot pain in her arm and her suit's internal alarm started going off but Charlotte ignored it, burying her helmet into the dirt as she started to cry.

Five.

They'd lost five.

Oscar. Bear. Noonan. AJ. And now Max.

The big man who loved bear claws, spy novels, and his mother…if the new tattoo on his arm was anything to go by.

And that only made her cry harder, their terrifying reality far too much for her heart to handle.

They'd failed. That was it, mission was over. Or game over, as Truman had once said. The drill site had been destroyed, the rig and the Armadillo were gone, their spirits were broken…and to top it all off, they didn't even know if their shuttle could get them home. Not that that mattered though because even if they got home, the world would end mere hours after they landed.

Rockhound had been right all along: they were never going to set foot on Earth again.

"Get a hold of Truman. Prepare the world for bad news."

She could hear Sharp talking, his voice somehow sounding both heartbroken and commanding at the same time. "Whose alarm is going off?"

"What alarm?"

"A suit alarm, low oxygen."

And then there were hands on her, pulling her quickly to her feet. She knew that people were talking to her but their voices sounded strange, muffled and incomprehensible, as if they were submerged in water.

She wanted to tell whoever it was that she was alright and that she could walk on her own but she was far too drowsy to say anything. Her head felt like it was full of cotton balls and with every second that went by she wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, to let her tired and heart-wrenchingly lonely body rest.

She'd had enough.

She'd had enough of losing people she loved.

Nothingness, oblivion, would be easier.

She was barely conscious when she was swept up into a strong set of arms, the rhythmic beeping helping to lull her into a dreamless sleep as the world around her slowly and steadily went black.

END