Disclaimer: The Among Us universe belongs to InnerSloth LLC and PlayEveryWare. This is a work of fanfiction and is not intended for profit or copyright infringement. I do not own the rights to Among Us or its setting/universe.

My wound takes about seven days to heal to the point where it's comfortable to stand, walk, and sleep. No one dies in those seven days, which would have been an even sweeter celebration for me if it weren't for the tension lingering between me and Quill.

I said a lot of things to a lot of people after Minka was ejected from the ship, but I don't regret any of them more than what I said to my brother. Del is tenacious enough to take lip from me and let it roll off his back. Lenna is hurt but I can see in her eyes that she's forgiven me because she continues to act normally around me, chatting and bubbly and very much herself. Perhaps she thinks this is the only way forward.

But Quill is neither strong enough to take it nor naive enough to pretend like it never happened. It was a low blow, dragging our grandfather into it, and I've wounded Quill beyond repair. He doesn't avoid me but he no longer seeks me out like he used to. When we're in the same room together he wholly ignores me and only speaks to me when necessary. I've seen a lot of destruction and I've felt enough pain, both physical and emotional, to know that I never experienced a pain quite so acutely as I do when my own brother pretends I don't exist.

There are a few times when I attempt to speak with him to apologize. But every time I get close he's either engrossed in conversation with someone else, he goes mysteriously deaf, or he changes the subject. With a heavy heart, I eventually give up, knowing that if he truly wants to talk he will seek me out. I've wounded him, and, just like my own physical wounds, his need time to heal.

In the interim, Quill no longer sleeps in my cabin with me. He retreats to his own cabin for comfort and solace and I'm left alone with Del, which isn't nearly as terrifying as it once was. On the same token, it's not nearly as exciting. I sleep on the bed and he on the floor, neither of us looking at each other, barely talking and barely engaging. Unlike Quill, Del listened to me when I approached him to apologize. He accepted my apology but there is still a coldness that remains. Perhaps he expects me to admit that I was wrong about Minka, but that's something I stubbornly refuse to say.

This is the only explanation I can think of for the growing distance between us. I rack my brain, trying to think of anything else I may have said or done, but nothing comes to mind. After all, I was the one who was stabbed. Surely I should be garnering more sympathy than the cold shoulder I've been receiving instead. But my physical wounds have pretty much healed now. Where there was once numbness I can now feel the brush of my cotton uniform and the pressure of my fingers on the site as I test for nerve damage. It hurts, but only a little. A whitish-pink scar mars my abdomen, large and ugly, like a tight knot in a ball of yarn. I feel it when I stretch and twist but otherwise the pain lies dormant.

The only person I feel like I'm really connecting with is Osiris. The man has his own problems - he certainly isn't the same person he once was - but he was the one who saved my life. He was the one who helped make sure my bandages were changed and clean and that my healing process was running smoothly. Interacting with him in a medical environment allows for plenty of time to talk in quiet tones about everything happening on the ship, as well as the battles we fight inside our own minds. Granted, he's closed off about what's going on behind his hollow eyes, but he's very forthcoming about his decision to execute Minka.

"It's okay if you never forgive me," he tells me. He insists I show him the scar once the last bandage comes off. His steady, deft fingers press lightly around the area, finding the little knot in the middle of the bunched skin. "I wouldn't forgive me if I were you. Actually, I would think you're crazy if you did. All the same, don't expect me to revoke my feelings about killing her."

"Ouch," I say as he presses on a particularly tender spot.

"Looks like there's still some internal healing that needs to be done. Not a ton, but enough to cause pain. Just take it easy for the next week or so. Try not to stretch or turn too quickly -"

I know all of this already, being very familiar with the healing process, myself, but I nod and listen as he tells me, anyway. Something about his presence is calming and comfortable. He's the only one I haven't insulted, and being around him eases my guilt. Despite having apologized to both Del and Lenna, it still feels like I'm standing on uneven ground with them and it's incredibly frustrating.

There are five of us left on this ship and I've never felt more alone. Taking Osiris's advice to heart, I spend most of my time resting in my cabin, staring at the souvenirs I've collected from my loved ones. My grandfather's journal, Dr. Barnett's glasses, and Quill's hummingbird. I always cry when I look at the hummingbird, gleaming dully in the dimmed lights of the cabin. Tears come again and I let them flow. The only source of light is the digital clock on the ceiling, declaring that it's almost three o'clock in the morning. Del sleeps soundly on the floor, his heavy breathing the only sound that punctures the oppressive silence. A part of me longs to join him and wrap my arms around his waist, but something holds me back. I know I don't deserve him. Despite all I've said, he continues to protect me at night. He continues to be there for me, even though things are different than before.

We have a silent understanding to give each other space.

I haven't slept all night. My insomnia is largely due to the fact that I can't stop my racing thoughts, though I'm also experiencing a slight discomfort in my side. I toss and turn, trying to find a comfortable position but sleep simply refuses to come. I stare at the ceiling, wondering for the millionth time why all of this is happening to me. I've never been much of a religious person, but whatever higher force exists out there it must take great pleasure in seeing me suffer because I can't remember the last time I've been truly happy. I've witnessed more death in the span of a single month than I have in my entire career as a nurse practitioner and in-flight surgeon. My own flesh and blood has shunned me and the friendships that I have are tenuous at best. My physical body is constantly aching. Even my romantic connection with Del has lost some of its fire.

Nothing is going well. Just like Ebba's plants, I'm ready to give up at any moment...

A strange noise reaches my ears and my racing thoughts come to a screeching halt. It's a soft scraping, tapping sound that comes from the region of my cabin door. Scrr...tap, tap, tap. It's not nearly as grating or harsh as the noises I heard before as the enemy climbed through the vents, but there does seem to be a pattern to it, like something or someone trying to communicate. Scrr...tap, tap, tap. It pauses and I hold my breath. Six seconds pass and then it happens again. Another six seconds, more scraping and tapping.

Is this the end? I pull the covers up higher to my chin, like that's going to protect me from anything, and stare, wide-eyed into the blank shadows of the cabin room, listening. Is Del hearing this? Surely he must. Nothing gets past him. Sure enough, a few moments later, after several more rounds of scraping and tapping his shadowy form stirs. I watch with bated breath as he untangles himself from his blankets and sits up. I think he turns his face towards me but it's difficult to tell in the darkness. I consider asking him about the noise but hold back - something tells me he doesn't want me to know he's awake.

I watch as he stands and opens the cabin door. His six-foot-something frame fills the doorway and I be he's checking both ends of the hallway. I half expect him to close the door and come back to bed after not finding anything of interest. To my surprise, he steps silently into the hallway and closes the door behind him with a gentle snap.

I'm left alone in the cabin with my confused thoughts and a very important decision to make. What was making that sound? Surely it had to be one of the other crewmates, if not the killer. If it was the former then I'm not surprised Del left the room. If it was the latter his actions were alarming. As tough as he is, he knows better than to go anywhere by himself in the dead of night, and he swore to himself he wouldn't leave me alone under any circumstances.

Of course, that was before I effectively told him to piss off.

Now the question is, do I follow him? He obviously wants to be left alone, but what would be enticing enough for him to leave me and endanger himself? My feet are on the floor before I can stop them. I'm wearing my red uniform trousers but my arms and neck are exposed in my low-cut black tank top and my toes are bare. I creep silently across the cabin, stumbling slightly over the pile of blankets, and open the door as quietly I possibly can.

I poke my head into the hallway. It's empty and dark and feels ten times the size as it does in the daytime when it's bathed in fluorescent lights. Like a child crossing the street, I look both ways before stepping into the hallway. I look to the left just in time to see Del's dark form disappear into the Cafeteria.

At least, I assume it's Del.

The scraping and tapping has stopped, so I figure I was right: someone wants to talk. I bite my lip. Do I retreat into the cabin for a flashlight? I decide against it. Traversing the hallways in near-pitch blackness is not easy or safe, but carrying a flashlight would be like alerting whatever lurks in the darkness of my presence. If I want to come out of this alive, the flashlight will have to be left behind.

I let the door close behind me and I slowly, quietly creep down the hallway, reaching out with my bare feet to find purchase on the metal floor. I shiver at the cold touch of corrugation on the pads of my feet and wish I'd at least put on the rest of my uniform.

I continue on, feeling the whole way like something watches me as I go. I can't shake the feeling, even when I reach the Cafeteria, and goose pimples erupt across my skin as I take in the wide, cavernous space. Stars speckle the black backdrop of infinite space, as they always do. I turn away from the observation windows and shuffle silently across the Cafeteria towards the hallway that leads to Administration. I'm not sure why but I get the feeling this is the way Del went.

As I enter the hallway, staring down at the yawning entrance to the black void of Storage, I notice with a thrill that I was right: the door to Admin is open and the light is on inside. Quiet, urgent voices issue from the room - voices that clearly don't want to be overheard.

"-why you want to speak here, of all places," Del's baritone reaches my ear as I creep towards the door and crouch directly beside it, listening intently. I watch as two shadows move against the block of light shining on the wall opposite me. "If we're not careful we could be overheard."

"It's a risk we'll have to take. We can't safely talk during the daytime, even with Zale gone."

Lenna. I hold a hand against my mouth to suppress a soft gasp. It's definitely her voice, but something about it is different. I can't quite place my finger on it. It's almost like her fluttery voice has adopted a sharp, impatient edge. It gives me the distinct impression that something has happened and she's none too happy about it.

"So let's make this quick," Del says. "Your signal wasn't the most stealthy."

"Stealth is the least of our problems right now," Lenna snaps. "We're weeks away from Polus, Del - weeks! We should have made better progress by now."

My heart flutters. I didn't realize we were that close to our destination. I was so used to Zale keeping tabs on our route that I almost forgot about Polus completely. Almost. Also, what is Lenna talking about better progress? I lean closer, hardly daring to breathe.

"Relax, will you?" Del replies calmly. "We've got plenty of time. With Osiris kicking Minka out, I'd say we're actually ahead of schedule."

"Ahead of schedule?" Lenna's shrill voice drips with scorn. "Del, there are three of them left - there should be zero."

"So that's what, one kill a week? Simple. We can do it."

"We?" Lenna scoffs. "You know, at first I had no trouble believing we were a team. But ever since you started cozying up to that girl, I'm not so sure."

"What are you insinuating?" Del's calm voice now has a sharp defensive clip to it. Lenna snorts.

"Please. Don't think I haven't noticed you getting sloppy. I had to pick up your slack by taking out Ebba and Kenzo in one go - you know how difficult double kills are. The ball is in your court and you haven't done anything in days. It would have been so easy to turn that girl's accident into something fatal - so what's the problem?"

My breath comes in short bursts now, my heartrate accelerating at an alarming rate. I grip my knee and place a hand on the wall to prevent myself from toppling over. That girl? Since when does Lenna refer to me like that? My brain races, trying to make sense of what I'm hearing. They're talking about the rest of the crew like we're strangers - like we're nothing. Poor sweet defenseless Lenna, who's always crying over the deceased is now acting like not enough of us are dead?

I know what this means. I understand now. But I refuse to believe it. Surely, I'm missing something. This has to be some sort of fluke.

It just has to be.

"I don't have a problem," Del assures her flatly. "I just don't think we need to kill every other day. We're nearly there - if we're lucky Osiris will kick someone else out."

"I see." I can't see Lenna's face but I can tell by the tone of her voice that she's sneering. "You keep assuring me that girl is nothing but a distraction, but I'm beginning to think it's a bit more serious than that. Don't tell me you've gone soft, Del. Don't tell me you're trying to protect her?"

"Don't be ridiculous," he fumbles, talking quickly. "When the time comes I won't hesitate."

Lenna grumbles something unintelligible. Betrayal pierces my heart. Cold runs through my veins and my head spins. There's no denying it now - I definitely know what I'm hearing.

The wise thing to do is get the hell out of there. To get back to my cabin and try to force myself to go back to sleep so I can wake up in the morning and tell myself it was nothing but a bad dream. But I can't move. Terror roots me to the spot. I continue to listen to their conversation, not caring how or when I'm going to make my escape.

If they find me they will kill me.

"You don't trust me," comes Del's voice.

"Well, can you blame me?" Lenna huffs. "You're not exactly being cooperative. When Chief assigned us to this mission she emphasized that we shouldn't let our feelings get tangled up into things. I've been doing just fine on my end. Kissing and telling is the opposite of that."

"Isn't the whole reason we're here because of our feelings? Our feelings towards the family that we've lost? I was under the impression we're doing this for them."

"We are doing this for them. But we're doing it for revenge, not love."

"Why can't we do it for both?"

"Because it gets complicated, dammit!" There's a loud thud and a rattle. Lenna must have pounded her fist on the holographic map table. "I feel like I'm the only one taking this seriously! That girl and her dumb journal have alerted this entire ship of our existence and our mission. Aren't you the least bit worried?"

I never find out if Del is worried or not. I flee. I flee as quickly and quietly as I possibly can, keeping one hand over my mouth and the other along the wall for balance and guidance. I don't remember my trek back to the cabin. I don't feel remotely cold anymore. All I feel is a flood of denial, remorse, and terror. With a quiet sob, I fling open my cabin door, slam it behind me, and dive under my covers. I let the tears come, fast and furious, as I try to make peace with what I've just overheard.

I don't know what scares me more - knowing what Del is or the fact that I was actually falling for him. And Lenna. My best friend. The least aggressive person on this ship! How could this have happened? How could I have been so blind?

I think of Quill and Osiris. For a second, I consider running to Quill's cabin and demanding him to listen to me - forcing him to accept my apology because there's something much bigger happening than a sibling's quarrel. I'm halfway out of my bed to find Quill when I freeze. Footsteps outside my door. Heart hammering, I scramble back beneath the covers and turn my back to the door, squeezing my eyes shut, pretending to be asleep.

The door opens. Heavy footsteps announce the arrival of Del. He was right behind me, I realize with a thrill of terror. If I had lingered even a second longer I would have been caught.

The door closes and the footsteps stop by the side of my bed. Silence. No rustle of blankets on the floor. No indication that Del has gone back to sleep. I wait in silence, certain he can hear my heart hammering its way out of my chest. When his cold fingers touch my cheek it takes everything in me to suppress a scream. My whole body tenses as he brushes the hair back from the side of my face. In that moment I do something that goes completely against every instinct in my body. I shift and turn my head to look at him, blinking owlishly and pretending hat he just woke me from a sweet dream.

"Del -?"

"I'm sorry," he whispers, cupping my cheek. "I thought you were asleep. Close your eyes and go back to bed."

If only it were that simple. I'm never going to sleep again.

"You're cold," I say. Go on. Admit where you were. Tell me what you really are. I know now - I KNOW!

But nothing in my grandfather's journal suggests the Polusians can read minds.

"You're burning up," he tells me in response, his hand moving to my forehead. "Mother of MIRA, Sage. Are you feeling okay? You're sweating really badly -"

"Had a nightmare," I mumble. Not a complete lie. He buys it.

He kneels next to me and kisses my forehead. I let him. I don't know why. Pulling away would be suspicious. Slapping him would be suspicious. Doing anything other than letting things play out would be suspicious and I really can't afford that right now.

"I'm here," he assures me quietly. I'm far from assured. Angler flares in my chest, churning with hatred and fear. The duplicity is so potent I want to gag on it. But in his eyes, nothing has changed. I'm still the stupid, naive little girl who let a crush get in the way of the truth.

But now I know the truth.

He kisses my nose and I find myself shaking. Do I hug him? Do I touch him? I just lie there, stock-still. He thinks I'm shaking because of the fictitious nightmare. Let him think what he wants. Let him do what he wants. He can't hurt me any more than he already has.

His lips find mine and I close my eyes, letting it happen. Just let it happen. The kiss is short and chaste and when he pulls away I open my eyes to his shadowy face inches from mine.

The face I thought I knew.

To him, it's a sweet moment. Tender, even.

But I know better.

He's just marked me for death.

The weight of my knowledge about Lenna and Del is crushing. Every part of my mind and body screams in agony at the injustice of it all. The rest of the crew lives in blissful ignorance, but I face each day as though it's my last. I watch Osiris and Quill carefully, trying to find some kind of indication that they suspect what I know to be true. The steadiness in Osiris's eyes is gone. Something inside him has cracked and he walks with slumped shoulders and shifting eyes. On more than one occasion I pass Security and hear quiet sobs drifting through the open doorway.

He was wrong about Minka, after all. I want to tell him but he doesn't seem very responsive anymore.

Quill still ignores me. I want to run up to him and shake him, to scream at him, to show him that he needs to forgive me now more than ever. But he continues to be ornery and distant and it infuriates me. I don't tell either of them about Del and Lenna. Osiris wouldn't believe me and Quill would just criticize me, if he was even willing to listen to me in the first place.

I live every moment in fear. After the conversation I overheard, it's clear they plan to kill again.

And soon.

I know I'm next. I can feel it in my bones. Every time I turn a corner I expect to run into Lenna or Del, crouched and waiting to strike.

But it never happens. Neither Del nor Lenna act any differently around me, so i deduce they didn't sense me listening in. Five of us remain. Two of us are killers and I'm the only one who knows. The knowledge is terrifying and every morning I wake up debating whether to tell Osiris or Quill. But what then? I tell one of them about what I overheard and they incite a rebellion against Del and Lenna? They would be overpowered quickly, and that's assuming they believe me at all. No. This knowledge is best kept secret for now.

A whole week passes since I learn the truth and no one has sustained so much as a papercut. It's like the ship itself is holding its breath, waiting for Lenna or Del to make the next move. It's ridiculous, really, facing the full understanding of the situation. They were taking turns. During one evening while I sit alone in my cabin, I think backwards from the time Ebba and Kenzo were slain. Lenna said she had to compensate for Del's laziness by picking up the slack and killing them in one go. The horrible sight in Oxygen was her doing. Tasting bile, I realize this must mean Zale met his untimely death at the hands of Del.

He was there, I remember with a pang. He was there with me in the charred room. So was Lenna. They helped Quill and me carry the body out...

He must have just fled the scene when Osiris found him.

Still, the question of What did happen? burns in the back of my mind.

For the first time in a long time I allow myself to think back to the events of Dr. Barnett's death - something that I've been trying to suppress for weeks. I sit on top of my made bed, knees pulled up to my chest, head resting on my arms, and squeeze my eyes shut. Memories of blood and screaming flood back in full color. The wounds in his chest and the hilt of Minka's dagger sticking out of his sternum. I was stabbed one time. Dr. Barnett was stabbed to death.

By Lenna.

A sob erupts from my body and I have to stifle it, lest anyone hear me.

So Del snapped Professor O'Connell's neck and Lenna was responsible for the very first blow - Commander Warrick.

Knowing who died at the hands of who does nothing to quell the anxiety. It really only makes it worse, now that I know what these two are capable of. I reach over and grab the journal off my nightstand, flipping to the page that covers the range of Polusian abilities in gruesome detail. I study the notes and diagrams until I can deduce roughly how each person was killed and by who. At the end of a good two hours I've pieced together everything that we've encountered so far on our voyage, including the power outage during Halloween and the Communications sabotages and the strange noises I heard in the vents. The only thing I still can't figure out is how the entire Communications room was destroyed.

I've been such an idiot. Every time there was a kill, either Lenna or Del were unaccounted for. One of them was always missing from my presence while the other had a rock-solid alibi. They both conveniently showed up after the fact, looking tearful and strained and just as confused as everyone else. The vents. Using the vents as a means of traversing the ship's many rooms and hallways was very useful for covering up their tracks.

The blood. Dr. Barnett said the blood we found on the carpet in Admin had a similar structure to human blood but a completely different color and texture. It was sticky and dark, like tar. I found it after Professor O'Connell was murdered.

Del's blood.

Del's shoulder.

It wasn't an accident in Weapons, after all. He must have scraped it while moving in and out of the vent in his alien form.

I slam the journal shut, unable to bear any more. I toss it back onto my nightstand and press the palms of my hands into my eyes, willing myself to be whisked away from this nightmare.

A knock on the cabin door startles me. I look up blearily in time to see the door open and Quill stick his head tentatively inside.

"Oh. Hey," he says as I stare incredulously at him. I rub my eyes, wondering if I'm hallucinating. "Um...do you have a second?"

I nod mutely. He walks inside, looking embarrassed and uncomfortable. He sits on top of the unmade piles of blankets and pillows on the floor, picking absently at a loose thread on the knee of his uniform.

"Listen, Sage. I've been thinking a lot about what you told me back in Medbay," he says quietly, not able to meet my eye. "About how our grandfather wouldn't have stood for killing Minka and how, well...how he was more of a man than I am. And I just want to say that...I think you're right."

This surprises me. I watch him carefully, waiting for him to continue.

"I'm a coward," he says simply. "When you got hurt I was angry at Minka and scared for your life. No important decisions should be made on the basis of anger or fear, and, unfortunately for Minka, all four of us were full of both. We were blind with rage. Osiris put it to a vote and I was convinced there was no other choice. She had openly injured someone in a fit of fury and that was enough for me to vote against her. Now that she's gone and you're here, still alive, I question my decision. I'm...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Sage."

My eyes well with tears and I slip from the bed, relief flooding through me as I fall into my brother's arms. He wraps me in a tight hug, pulling me close, and kisses the top of my head. All of my worries about Lenna and Del and Osiris momentarily drift away as we hold each other, rocking back and forth, crying with each other, mourning the loss of our crew.

I want to tell him what I know. I want to share everything about Lenna and Del and about how it all fits together, but all I can manage is, "I love you, Quill."

"I love you too."

For a moment, all is right in the world. Nothing can spoil this moment.

Nothing, that is, except for the lights shutting off.

We stiffen against each other, peering around the dark room, seeking signs of an explanation. The hallway is quiet outside. No footsteps of the others. No clunking, scraping, or tapping noises that usually announce the presence of something sinister inside the vents. It's just blackness. I feel the rapid beat of Quills heart against my cheek, thrumming in sync with mine.

After a solid minute and a half of sitting in the pitch dark, the emergency lights finally whine on, halfway illuminating Quill's scared expression.

"Do you think -?" he begins but he's cut off by a sound that none of us thought we'd ever hear. It's a klaxon-like blare that triggers pulsing red lights and chills us to the bone. It screams at us, demanding our attention. I cover my ears and look to Quill.

"The reactor core!" he exclaims loudly over the wailing and clanging, looking thoroughly shaken. "This...this is bad! I have to get to the reactor and fix it before -"

"Before what?" I demand, jackknifing to my feet. He joins me and we scramble for the door. I think I already know what.

"The ship has a reactor core that's full of water and something called fuel rods," Quill puffs as we run down the hallway, our feet clanking on metal, out of sync with the blaring red klaxon alarm screeching above our heads. "When it overheats it generates a lot of pressure. If the uranium makes contact with the water the steam will rupture the reactor vessel and allow the radioactive vapors to-"

"English, please!" I grouse as we round the corner into Upper Engine. I have to be careful not to step on anything as I pick my way through the cluttered room.

"Head bad, makes water expand and go boom!"

My heart thuds desperately. "You will be able to fix it, right?" I shout as we approach the door to the Reactor room, which is located directly across from Security. Quill wipes his brow nervously. The Reactor room is large and basically empty, apart from a massive cylindrical tower of flashing lights and buttons. Tubes and wires flow out from the top of the tower and snake across the ceiling and floor towards brightly-flashing, complicated-looking screens at the north and south ends of the room. Quill dashes to the reactor core, me hot on his heels.

"Shit!" He toggles a few switches and presses random buttons (at least, they look random to me). "It's worse than I thought - the amount of hydrogen being produced is too large in proportion to the space it has available in the vessel. It could blow at any moment! I'd say we have about fifteen or twenty minutes, max."

"What?!" I squawk. "Quill, how are we going to fix this?!"

"With science, talent, and a whole lot of luck," he says, flashing me a grin. "Don't worry - I've trained for moments exactly like this. Grandfather was MIRA's top engineer for a reason. Where do you think I learned it all? I've got it all in here." He taps his head. "I'm just going to need a few extra hands. Go find the others and meet me back here in five minutes."

"But -" I flounder.

"Do it!" He hollers, slamming a few additional buttons. The lights surrounding the reactor core pulse angrily at him and the alarm continues to blare. Both of his hands are busy scrolling through screens of information and typing in codes and toggling switches. He doesn't have time for me to question him, and I know he's relying on me to pull through for him.

For us.

Without another word I stumble from the room and sprint down the hallway, past Security (empty), through Upper Engine (empty), down the hall past Medbay (empty), past all of the closed cabin doors, into Cafeteria, and straight into Del's chest.

"Oof!" I barely catch myself. Del grabs me by the shoulders.

"Sage!" he yells over the sound of the meltdown. "What's going on? Where is everyone?"

"Quill is in the Reactor room, trying to fix things!" I wheeze. I should be more upset that I'm all alone with him in a secluded area during a reactor core meltdown, but he looks like he would rather kiss me than kill me so for the moment I feel safe.

It doesn't mean I have to be pleasant with him.

"We need to find Osiris!" I bark. "Let's go!" I grab his wrist and pull him into the hallway towards Administration and Storage. He stumbles along behind me, looking thoroughly bewildered. He plays the part well. Surely, the reactor core meltdown was his and Lenna's doing - just another way they can sabotage the ship. After targeting the lights and the communications to MIRA, this is like the ultimate act of destruction. If the reactor blows it will kill us all.

Visions of a fiery explosion on the TV screen fills my mind as we run. This has happened before...

I push thoughts of George Korbel's grisly end out of my mind and rush past Admin. I come to a grinding halt and Del runs roughly into me. I push him back the way we came and peer into Admin.

"Osiris!" I shout, noticing his back facing the door. He stands in front of the screens on one wall, all of which are filled with static. "Osiris, what - what are you doing?"

He swings around quick as a whip, dark eyes wild and full of mania. I step towards him cautiously and hold up my hands. The grip on his gun tightens, arm shaking, and I notice a sheen of sweat on his skin, even though it's cold as a tomb on the ship. He stands rigid on the other side of the holographic map, the metal barrel of the gun still pressed against his temple.

"Osiris..." My heart beats wildly as I try to think of something to say to get him to lower the gun. I knew Minka's demise bothered him, but I didn't realize just how much of an impact it had on him. I watch his finger on the trigger, waiting for the barest twitch that could spell the end. "Osiris, please put the gun down. We can talk about this -"

"You're wrong!" he shouts, making me flinch. Tears shine in his eyes now and I can see his resolve cracking rapidly. "Don't you see, Sage? There's no other way. They wont' stop until they get what they want. This ship is going to blow any second and we're all going to die, just like they did the first time. I'm going to die. You're going to die. And there's nothing anyone can do about it!"

"Quill is working on fixing it right now!" I say desperately as Del's deep voice fills my ears.

"We don't know who's going to live or die," he says. I feel the familiar swirling of anger mixed with despair burning in my chest. "But right now you have the chance to save your own life. To make a decision that could -"

"To save my life? Only to be killed in a fiery explosion?" He lets out a harsh humorless laugh. "I don't think so. I'm going to die on my own terms before I give myself up to the whims of some mutant killer."

I glance at Del to see how these words affect him. As usual, his face is a mask of calm and the insult rolls off his back. What is he doing? Why is he still pretending like Osiris is his friend? I half expect him to transform right here and now and slaughter both of us, but for some reason he's maintaining the front. It's baffling to me. He could easily overcome both of us, even in his human form. For the millionth time I wonder What is he thinking?

Looking away from Osiris is a mistake. The one second I take my eyes off him costs him everything.