Seventy percent, seventy-five, eighty-five, and the screen suddenly went black, along with the rest of the ship. Brain blinked at the monitor, a phantom square of light still glowing on its borders. For a second, he wasn't sure exactly what he was feeling, something like disappointment and exhaustion muddled together. Exasperation. No sooner had the word entered his thoughts than his body began to react accordingly. A palm on his brow, dragging down his face, the pads of his fingers catching the bags under his eyes and bringing them down as well. He groaned as he made his way back to the cockpit to hopefully engage the emergency power.
"Pinky," he called as he floated through the threshold.
"Poit! Oh, hi Brain. Umm, what happened to the lights?" Pinky called back, significantly louder than strictly necessary. Brain could just make out the silhouette of his partner trying to paddle over to him.
He sighed, "It would seem my calculations were off. We didn't have enough power to both operate our ship and launch the satellite, and now we don't have enough power to do either of those things." He flipped the emergency power switch and hummed in slight relief when the weak lights buzzed to life. He turned to Pinky, "It's not much, but at least I can see what I'm doing now." He maneuvered past his friend, tugging his arm to make him turn toward the direction they needed to go.
Pinky followed obligingly, launching himself off the walls or ceiling or floor, remarkably graceful in his blundering. He let himself be turned upside down once they'd stopped and watched the Brain as he began typing commands into the computer before them. "Uh, Brain?" he asked tentatively. Said lab-mouse nodded his acknowledgment. Pinky continued, "If we don't have enough power to fly the ship, how are we supposed to get back to the lab and prepare for tomorrow night?"
Brain allowed himself a moment to finish on the computer before responding. "I've positioned our solar panels to start recharging the energy-banks once we've moved out of the planet's shadow. Until then, I'm afraid we're stuck here."
"Narf! Well that's not so bad, is it. How long do you think it'll take us to get out of Earth's shadow?"
The smaller mouse cocked his head for a moment while he did the math. "About eight hours," he decided.
Pinky nodded a little too seriously, "What will we do till then?"
Brain rolled his eyes, "Find something to entertain yourself with." Pinky huffed at the answer, but he pushed off the wall and let himself float somewhere to the left. Brain rolled his eyes again and started running a few diagnostic tests, working much slower than he usually would have for the sake of killing some extra time.
The Brain straightened himself out and cracked his knuckles. He spared a last cursory glance at the screen in front of him before turning back to the utterly silent cabin. He made his way as quietly as possible back to the pilot's chair, as silence only happened when Pinky was asleep, and Brain didn't want to disturb him. The slumbering lab mouse had strapped himself into the copilot's chair, perhaps a bit too tight. His neck was pressed onto the corner of the plastic headrest and he'd managed to trap both his tail and one of his arms under his own body.
Brain shook his head and floated over to unclasp his partner's harness. He set a light hand on Pinky's chest to keep him from rising out of his seat while he worked. The buckles bumped together as the harness rose off the chair, and Brain winced at the metallic clanging. He looked over at his companion, relieved to see him still sleeping soundly. He lifted his hand and guided Pinky's limbs and head out of the straps. He waited a moment to make sure his friend stayed asleep before gently pushing him out of the cockpit and towards their sleeping quarters.
He held onto Pinky's wrist as he opened the door to his pod and unzipped his sleeping bag. The Brain looked from the bag to the mouse at his side and had to stifle an annoyed groan. "How do you expect me to put you in there without waking you?" he muttered under his breath, more in the interest of expressing his own irritation than berating his sleeping partner.
He gingerly guided first Pinky's left arm then his right into their respective slits. The taller stirred briefly then settled back down with a quiet "Narf." Brain let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding as he maneuvered down to push Pinky's legs into the bag. He slowly zipped him in, careful not to catch his fur, and fastened the straps around his stomach and legs.
Pinky's arms floated raised in the air and Brain absently noted that he almost seemed to be doing an impression of the classic cinematic Frankenstein's monster. He blinked the blurry image from his mind and checked the clock on Pinky's wall. 2:30 a.m.; about forty-two and a half hours since he last slept. Brain yawned, apparently feeling the effects of his sleep deprivation for the first time. He carefully closed the pod door, taking a last lingering look at his companion's sleeping form, and made his way to his own sleeping pod. He strapped himself in and let his eyes drift closed. He ran through his mental facilities, one by one willing them quiet until he drifted out of the waking world.
"Brain?"
The lab-mouse reluctantly opened his eyes, blearily addressing his partner. "What is it, Pinky?" Brain turned to his clock, "We won't have enough power to get back to the lab for another hour, at least."
Pinky clasped his hands behind his back, looking away bashfully, "I had a bad dream- poit."
The Brain reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, neither familiar nor comfortable with this type of situation. He debated dismissing his cagemate, but the left over terror in his gleaming eyes quickly chased the notion away. He sighed and started working on unfastening the straps of his sleeping bag, resolving to, at the very least, bring some form of physical comfort to his distraught lover. The mouse in question was floating an inch or so away, braced on Brain's doorframe, placidly watching his friend work. He perked up, brow furrowed slightly, when Brain motioned him over. "What are you doing, Brain?" he asked when Brain shakily extended his arms towards the taller mouse.
Brain cleared his throat, "I am... offering you my physical support, and an opportunity to, ehm, to tell me about your nightmare so that I may supply emotional support as well. Eh, if you'd like to…" He chanced a glance up at Pinky's face, momentarily worried by the tears now freely flowing down his cheeks before he was abruptly swept into a crushing embrace.
"Oh Brain," Pinky somehow squeezed him even tighter, "Oh Brain." He buried his face into Brain's neck and curled his body around him, their tails intertwined.
Whether his partner's display was only his usual dramaticism or his response to something more serious, Brain didn't know. Either way, he didn't have the heart to do much more than lightly rub his back and half-heartedly murmur something about crushed lungs. Mercifully, Pinky did loosen his grip a little; just enough for the Brain to take a full breath and shift into a more comfortable position. They sat like that for a few minutes, drifting languidly around Brain's cabin.
But, inevitably, Pinky's capacity for sitting still ran out and he pulled his head back. He swiped at the damp fur on his cheeks and giggled lightly, "Sorry about that; made a bit of a mess of myself, haven't I? Zort!" He brushed a hand over the soaked patch of Brain's fur where he'd been crying and let out an embarrassed Narf. "Make that both of us, then," he added.
Brain rubbed at his friend's teartracks with his thumb, "It's alright, Pinky. I just… hate to see you cry…" He trailed off, not meaning to distract from Pinky's feeling with his own.
Pinky just smiled adoringly at him and rubbed their noses together. He looked away briefly before speaking, "Do you still want to hear about my nightmares, Brain?"
"Only if you still want to tell."
He nodded and placed a quick kiss on Brains temples, "Alright then… I'll try to syncopate-"
"Synopsize, Pinky."
"-Right, right, synthesize. -Troz- Anyway... I was running, though I'm quite not sure where, poit. But there was something chasing me. It had a laugh a bit like that man with eyebrows in the movie about that haunted hotel, only deeper. Do you remember that one, Brain? And then, all of a sudden, I fell right through the floor- Zort! I fell for a really long time, but then, I heard your voice. Then I stopped falling and I ran towards you, but…" his breath hitched and his eyes glistened with gathering tears. Brain wiped a tear from his partner's cheek and waited for him to continue. Pinky sniffed and held Brain's hand to his face, "Oh, Brain… I looked for you for such a long time, but I couldn't find you. Your voice kept coming from different directions and I couldn't understand what you were saying… Narf… I thought I lost you, Brain. And then I woke up and you weren't there and I was scared it was real and… You'll never leave me, right Brain?"
The question was soft, almost an afterthought, but Brain still felt something very delicate break in his chest once it passed his lover's lips. He took Pinky's face in his hands and pulled him down to look him in the eyes. "Of course not, Pinky," he kissed him softly, hoping the words he never knew how to say might transfer through their connected lips. He pulled back and let his forehead rest on Pinky's, "I'd be a fool to even consider it."
His cagemate hummed happily and leaned into his touch. "Naarf…" he trailed off with a slow yawn and moved to rest on his companion's collar.
The Brain rubbed his back and listened as his breathing slowed into the steady rhythm of a dead sleep. "I suppose we can afford a few extra hours up here," he muttered as he moved to strap Pinky and himself into his sleeping bag.
He secured the last clasp and let himself be lulled to sleep by the hum of the ship and the steady beat of Pinky's steadfast heart.