If Misery Loves Company

Chapter 4

Denial

By Kristen Gupton-Williams

(Game dialogue in the launch scene, and remember, I live for reviews!)

With those rings in my pocket, I went to the bar and the stupid party. I've always hated parties, to be honest, but I knew Shera was going so I suffered though it. When I got there, I saw that she was at a table in the back with a few other engineers, and there was no where else to sit amongst them. I just sat at the bar and started drinking. Most of the people ignored me for a long time, until they got liquored up enough to start dishing me shit. Sure, I had a few laughs, but mostly, I just wanted people to go home, since I had a feeling that Shera would be the last one around.

Eventually, the others started filtering out, and I kept my place, waiting for my chance to have one last moment alone with Shera. It was well after midnight when that finally happened. With everyone else gone, I could hear her back at her table crying quietly. I knew she was hoping that I couldn't hear her, but I could and it broke my damn heart since I knew why she was so upset. "Shera… come 'ere."

I heard her chair move and her take the short walk across the bar until she was right behind me.

I reached over and patted the seat next to me, wanting her there, and she quickly complied, leaning forward a little on the bar beside me. I didn't look at her directly, I didn't need to, nor did I want to. I had no desire to see her with those tears in her eyes.

I didn't want to look at her, but I certainly wanted to touch her so I reached over and took a hold of her right hand. She gasped, probably in surprise, but didn't pull her hand away. Instead, she tightened her fingers around mine, giving me all the confirmation that I needed.

She's crying for you, Cid. She's terrified…

Well, I was terrified, too.

I was. About the launch the next day? Yeah, a little. Mostly? I was scared about what was going to happen between her and me. I wanted her, Goddamn, I wanted her like I've never wanted anyone before. I was scared of rejection, even though I really didn't think she would turn me away.

Flying and the risks involved were things that I knew.

Being in love? Dealing with a woman?

Shit, not a clue.

Two hours. That's how long we sat there, and not one word was said between us. On her part, I think it was because she was just too ashamed that she would break down crying. For me? I was just afraid of saying something stupid and ruining what we had.

…if we had anything at all, and I thought we did.

Two in the morning rolled around, though, and the bartender told us to get lost. We got up and went out, and once more I found the nerve to take her hand. Even though we were out on the street, we were completely alone since everyone else in town was already in bed or passed out drunk somewhere.

I led her slowly to her apartment. Yeah, I knew where she lived, despite me never having been there. Well, officially. I'd seen her address on lots of paperwork and having lived in this town all my life, I knew damn good and well where it was. Hell, honestly? It was the same complex that I'd rented an apartment in when I'd first returned to Rocket after my time in the service.

Once before her door, I let go of her hand and placed my hands on her shoulders, looking into her eyes. I felt her shaking, and it made me feel bad. I didn't want her to be so damn worried over me. It wasn't fair to her. I never figured there would be anyone that knew me outside of my momma that would have been so worried.

Did it ever occur to you that she can't help but be worried?

"Well, Shera, I guess this is g'night," I said quietly.

Her lips managed one more tired smile for me. "Yes, Captain."

Kiss her! Goddamnit, kiss her!

No! Not until after the launch. That wouldn't be fair… not if I ain't gonna live…

I realized that I'd lost myself in my thoughts for a moment, and had looked away. I held her shoulders a little tighter as I fought that urge to pull her to me and see what kissing her would be like. I agreed with myself to just wait until the next day, and I did the best thing I could do and just kissed her cheek quickly before stepping back. "I'll see ya tomorrow."

Her face was flushed red, and her voice wavered badly. "Y…yes, Captain."

I had to leave right then otherwise I would have been in danger of not only going for that kiss like I'd wanted, but probably going for the whole damn thing. Sometimes, I'm surprised at my self-control.

Naw, who am I kidding? It wasn't self-control. I was just a wimp.

The walk back to my house seemed longer than normal and before I went in, I had one last cigarette, standing out on my lawn and looking up at the rocket. I've never been a particularly religious man. I mean, I believe in a higher power, sure, I can't think that all of this could have happened without one, but…

That was the first time in all my life that I'd ever prayed. I prayed as I looked up at that machine. I prayed not that I'd live, but that come tomorrow, if I lived, that when I showed Shera the ring, that she'd say yes.

Eventually, I went inside, realizing exactly how empty my house seemed. I went into the kitchen and had a cup of tea to cut though some of the buzz my drinking had given me before turning in. I didn't sleep, needless to say. No, I just stared up at the ceiling in the darkness, thinking about Shera. I thought about how nice it would be to have her next to me in the bed. Not for sex, although that had crossed my mind a time or two, but more just to have her there with me. I was tired of being alone, I really was. It sucked.

I kept looking over at the clock, and just two hours after I got into bed, I got out of it again. After dressing, I left the house and went to my office to start filling out my preflight paperwork.

A while passed and it got close to six twenty, and I realized that I was supposed to be at a meeting that morning and so I went to the conference room. That Rich guy was talking about crap when I got there, and I helped myself to some coffee and went to hover over in the corner. Shera was sitting at the conference table but I couldn't bring myself to look over at her.

There I stood, apart from everything else that was going on. It was all in the hands of fate at that point. I was just the trained monkey that was supposed to sit in the rocket and pull the levers.

Rich finally shut up and then I heard Shera handing out the final check assignments. The last task she delegated was the tanks, and she gave that to herself.

You've got to be fuckin' kidding me! She's still on those tanks???

I couldn't believe it. There were far more important systems that she was qualified to check than those stupid mother fucking tanks! I couldn't help but look over at her. I knew I couldn't lay into her, though, in front of everyone else, so I just walked out.

After all, what was going to happen was going to happen. It was just my job to wait until lift off.

With nothing better to do until then, I went home, sat on my couch, felt my exhaustion and nervousness, and chain-smoked. What I really wanted to do was to take Shera aside for just a few minutes before I had to go, but I knew that she was busy and again, that need to wait until afterward burned within me.

I could face death, but not Shera.

Not yet.

I closed my eyes and let my mind drift as my last cigarette burned. I would take off and then splash down into the ocean afterward. I would be rescued and taken to a press conference back here in Rocket. Shera would be there in the crowd, looking back at me, relieved that I'd lived. I'd give a brief report and then I'd walk off the stage and straight to Shera. I'd pull her to me and kiss her like I ain't never kissed a woman before in my life. I figured she'd cry… and then I'd reach into my pocket and fall to my knee and…

There was a knock at the door and I snapped out of my daydream. I put out the remains of my cigarette and answered the door, finding Rich on the other side. "Howdy…"

He offered me that somewhat weird, lopsided grin of his. "Howdy, yourself. Everythin' is ready, pretty much. It's time to get ya goin'."

I nodded at his words and huffed to myself. "It's gettin' to be about that time, ain't it?"

I'd noticed it before, several times, in fact, that Rich was, in a lot of ways, a duplicate of myself-- well, except for the smoking and cursing. I thought he looked like myself and tended toward several of my mannerisms. Shit, we were even the same age, and sometimes I couldn't help but wonder if my father, the admiral, had gone off and had a marital indiscretion. This guy could have passed for my damn brother, anyway.

Maybe it was because of that, or maybe it wasn't, but as I followed him from the house toward the control station to get my last briefing, I cracked. I had to talk to someone at least about Shera, if I couldn't talk to Shera. "Rich?"

"Yup?" he replied, not even looking at me.

"Whatcha think about Shera?" I asked, keeping my gaze on the ground.

"You like her?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I do."

"She's all right. Nice and all."

"I'm thinkin' about marryin' 'er," I confessed, feeling incredibly self-conscious right then.

I don't think he was really sure what he was supposed to say in response to that. He wasn't the kind for this sort of talk. "Really?"

"Yeah… Don't tell anyone," I kicked a rock on the ground, wondering why I'd brought it up at all.

"You got it. Didn't think you were the type," he said.

"Neither did I, until she showed up." A smile came to me. "What's it like bein' married?"

"I dunno…" Rich laughed to himself. "Just… fulfillin' you human obligation, bein' responsible and producin' the next generation."

I laughed, too. He was just weird. I'd seen his wife a few times, and she was just as weird, though. Pretty, cynical, smart, maybe just a little short fused— not that I'm one to talk in that department. His wife loved the hell out of him, that was obvious. "You like it, though?"

"Yup, I sure do."

That was good enough for me. I'd known a lot of people that never did anything but complain about their spouses, but Rich and his woman weren't like that. It seemed they'd found something that not too many others really had.

That's what I wanted with Shera.

Damn, I did.

My hand found its way into my coat pocket and it tightened around the box that held Shera's ring. Or, at least, what I intended to be Shera's ring.

We went into the control building, and I had my last briefing, going over the flight plan one more time. When that was over, it was only thirty minutes 'til launch and I went to the rocket. I climbed the countless stairs up to the capsule and landed in my seat, getting to my preflight checks. I flipped a switch and heard an electrical whine as all the cockpit controls and sensors powered on.

With that, I closed my eyes again, leaning back in my seat and trying to get my heart rate under control. My stomach hurt in my tension, and I knew that if I'd looked at my hands, they would have been shaking.

This was what I was meant to do, though. That's what I really believed, that's where I'd put all my faith. Besides, I knew that Shera had promised me that the rocket would be perfect.

She'd promised…

The countdown initiated three minutes before the launch and I opened my eyes again. I reached over and looked at the monitors to my left, just to make sure that everything was all right.

That's when I caught site of the edge of a white lab coat in the engine room. I hit the intercom. "Hey, Goddamnit! Who in the fuck is still in there?"

To my horror, Shera moved over to one of the tanks, now being clearly visible to me. Her voice came back, calm and unfazed. "It's Shera, Captain. Don't mind me, go ahead with the launch."

I panicked. I absolutely fucking panicked because by being where she was, when she was, she'd most likely sentenced herself to death or had doomed my mission. Both were not welcome thoughts to me. "Shera?! What are you still doin' in there?"

She didn't turn away from that damn tank, and still, she had that same sweet tone. "I was still concerned. The results of the oxygen tank test weren't satisfactory."

I couldn't believe it. Her obsession over those tanks was now going to ruin everything. I suddenly felt like I'd let my feelings for her interfere with my judgement over her abilities. I blew up to her like I hadn't quite done. "You stupid little bitch! It's gonna get so hot I there that there ain't gonna be SHIT left when we blast off! You're gonna be burnt to a crisp! You're gonna die! You know that, don't ya!?"

She glanced over her shoulder at the camera, somehow, a smile playing on her lips. "I don't mind. If I can just fix this, the launch will be a success. I'm almost done."

A wave of nausea hit me and I damn near threw up. "Almost done? You're gonna die!"

With that, I tried to argue with launch control to give me just a little more time, just enough to get Shera out of there but… the processes of the launch were already in play and short of completely aborting the mission, it couldn't be stopped. I looked over at that monitor again, seeing her still doing whatever it was she was doing. "Goddamnit, Shera… you wanna make me a murderer?"

Her voice wavered back. "Captain…"

I heard it. That fear in her voice. This time it was for herself. She may have been willing to sacrifice her life for some fucking irrational fear over the tanks and my life, but I wasn't willing to kill her. Not for this… not for anything. The rocket began to shake as the booster engine started to warm up. "Shera?!"

"Tank number seven check is complete. Once I complete tank number eight, it's all clear," she said, still trying to sound upbeat but there were tears in her voice, and it cut right through me.

Maybe if she'd run up to the capsule right then in that moment she could have survived if we lifted off, I didn't know… I couldn't think for shit. I couldn't help it and I felt tears burning in my eyes. "Come on, Shera… hurry up… You're gonna die…"

She just knelt before the tank at that moment, seemingly done with whatever it was she was doing and just waiting…

She's waiting to die.

And you've killed people before, Cid. In the service… how many people did you kill in those bombing runs you made? How many people did you kill in all those other ships and planes you shot down in the war? How many, Cid?

What's one more?

"What… what am I… What am I supposed to do…?" I whispered to no one. I'd killed, yeah, I had. There was no debate over that, but that had been in war and not an innocent like this… one who's death I could prevent.

Not the woman that I loved more than my dreams… more than life itself.

The rocket began to push upward, the scream of its engines becoming deafening. On the monitor, I could see Shera still kneeling where she was, he face covered with her hands, her shoulders heaving as she cried in her terror.

You can't let your dreams die!

No, I can't let me dreams die. Not this dream… not this dream…

I broke. I absolutely fucking broke and reached forward to the emergency lever, killing the engine. "Shit!"

I didn't have much time to think after that before the rocket fell back against its tower, feeling for a moment like we were going to fall over completely. Realizing that the rocket wasn't going to fall, I undid my restraint, turned in my seat and vomited onto the deck plate. I was sick, I was honestly sick, and I didn't know if it was from having aborted the mission or almost having seen Shera die.

I just wasn't capable of realizing which it was right then.

Something boiled up within me and I wiped my mouth, getting up from my seat. I hated myself. I hated myself more than I ever would have thought imaginable. I'd let my feelings for Shera cloud my mind. I'd put someone as project lead who never had any business being so. I hated myself for actually thinking about letting her die, if even just for a second. Shera… Shera had done something to me that no one else on the planet ever had and if this was what the result was, then…

Get rid of her and don't EVER let this sorta shit happen to you again, Cid!

My legs were weak as I made the descent to the engine room. I stood in the doorway to it, my face hot and my detest for myself still boiling over. I saw her there, looking so scared and ashamed…

Don't give into it! GET RID OF HER!

I forced myself to say the hardest thing I have ever said in my life. "Get the fuck offa my ship, get your shit outta that office, and I don't ever, EVER wanna see your bitch ass again, you got me?"

No… Goddamnit… Shera… I don't mean it… don't go…

Her eyes fell away from me and she nodded, looking absolutely dejected.

I turned and left as quickly as I could, since remaining there would have caused me to fold and…

I had not just given up one dream that day, I'd given up two.

I went into my house, locked the door, and took the phone off of the hook. I would have to answer questions later, but right then, I had to be alone. I pulled the ring box out of my coat pocket and went to my bedroom. I opened the bottom drawer on my dresser, the one I never used for anything, and threw down the ring box within, picking up the other that held mine from the top of the dresser and chucking it in as well. I kicked the drawer shut and then did something that I hadn't done since I was twelve years old.

I threw myself down on my bed and I cried.

Idiot!

I fucking cried.

Dying would have been easier, I thought.