Never Hurts To Help

Chapter Seven: The Break

Sylvia and Wander have escaped from the planet in their stolen ship and are heading for the rendezvous point.

Sylvia has some things to think about before they get there.

We should be past the halfway point of this story. Not sure how many chapters we have to go, but probably at least three more.

Enjoy!

Sylvia looked out at the endless stars. With the ship's destination set, she herself just needed to monitor the gages and keep an eye out for hazards. There wasn't much else to do for the moment, unless they should run into an enemy ship or something she hadn't thought to account for like, say, a freak black hole out of nowhere.

She found herself taking the opportunity to study her prisoner, if she could even call him that by this point. For once, Wander wasn't chattering or smiling at her. He'd settled comfortably into his seat, knees pulled up and arms wrapped around them, and his eyes were focused on the distant stars outside the windows. His face was relaxed and contented and he was humming softly to himself.

The sight gave Sylvia an unpleasant tight feeling deep down inside her, that feeling of wrongness she'd been struggling with lately, but she forced herself to look, really look at him, from the slight twitch of the tips of his shoes, all the way up to the baggy, green hat, to those big eyes that looked like they were trying to capture all the starlight in the galaxy.

Strange.

He was so strange.

Sylvia had never met another person like Wander, in all of her travels across the galaxy. Sure, she'd met people who professed to help others, and some who even tried to. She tended to view the former as scam artists and the latter as suckers. She knew how to deal with both. None of them had left her feeling unbalanced the way Wander did.

In the end, Sylvia was out for herself, just like most of the jokers and toughs she delt with on a daily basis. Wander…really wasn't.

Sure, there were plenty of things he liked and wanted to do. Despite her best efforts, Sylvia was now familiar with a good number of them.

He liked cooking, music, seeing the sights on the planets he traveled to, that ridiculous banjo of his, and 'playing dress-up' as he'd called it. And he liked helping out, really really liked it. He wasn't just helping others because it was the 'right' thing to do or because he thought he should. He seemed to actually enjoy it. He enjoyed it so much he was willing to go along with her this whole time, happy, in fact, to be grabbed by her and sold to the villains who were after him. Because he was 'helping' her. That was the reason he was still here and hadn't escaped or something, since he clearly could have. That and he apparently liked her for some reason.

He was willing to put helping others above all the other things he enjoyed as though it was the most important thing in the world to him. He was willing to put it even above his own freedom. That was something Sylvia just couldn't understand, and something she'd never seen before despite her own extensive traveling.

And that was the problem right there.

It would have been so much easier to deal with him if he behaved the way all the self-professed heroes and bleeding hearts she'd encountered did; if he'd been reproachful of her, disdainful of her, or hurt by what she was planning to do with him. Then she could have disregarded him. She could have brushed away tears and curses and all manner of name-calling and escape attempts. She'd seen plenty of those kinds of reactions over the years and they no longer affected her. She knew she wasn't a 'good guy,' and she didn't want to be. She was just trying to scrape together a living and take care of herself, and anyone who got in the way would be stepped on. That was how the world worked.

But Wander wasn't interested in any of that. He didn't blame her for what she was doing. He didn't seem upset at her about it at all.

Instead, he just seemed to genuinely want to be her friend. He seemed, in fact, to have decided that they already were friends.

Even when she'd captured him, chained him up, and spent the better part of two days snapping at him and pulling him around with her.

He hadn't been upset; he'd had fun.

He'd had fun with her.

Like Sylvia had thought before: weird.

"Why the frown, clown?"

Her eyes shot back to Wander to find him giving her that same smile again, like they were sharing a secret.

She glared on reflex, turning to growl at him to keep his trap shut, and then stopped.

Suddenly Sylvia felt almost overwhelmingly tired. She was tired of snapping at Wander, of maintaining this gruff, no-nonsense you're-my-prisoner-and-you-will-do-what-I-say attitude. Who exactly did she think she was fooling with that anyway? It wasn't like it was intimidating to the little orange fuzzball at her side. It hadn't stopped him from giggling and chatting and goofing off for the past day and a half. It hadn't made him afraid of her, or even sad for more than a few moments.

That meant she'd only be doing it to fool herself, and that was something she'd sworn she'd never do. When her own illusions had been shattered years ago, she'd promised herself never to live like that again. She'd wanted to see the world clearly, no matter how messed-up it was, not to let herself get fooled by pretty lies and to never let others take advantage of her. She'd done what she had to to survive in this heartless universe, and she wasn't ashamed of any of it, she told herself, not the grifts or the scams, the bounty hunting or the stealing. She didn't lie awake at night fretting about suckers she'd cheated or tough guys she'd killed. If they were gone and she was still here it was because they hadn't been as good at surviving and thriving in this twisted life as she was.

Sylvia was out for herself. She'd never pretended otherwise. And anyone she'd met who said they weren't was either lying or fooling themselves.

At least, anyone she'd met before she ran into Wander.

That was one thing that was infinitely clear to her about the little alien she was stuck here with. He hadn't lied to her, or put on a persona. He had been completely honest with her. And he wasn't fooling himself either. Despite the obvious naivety he had; he seemed to see the best in everyone after all, even when it wasn't there, he still seemed aware of at least some of the darkness in the universe. It seemed like he'd been traveling through the galaxy at least as long as she had. Yet he hadn't been brought down or grown jaded by it. He was still upbeat, unflappable, kind and hopeful.

She couldn't understand it. She really flarping couldn't understand it, but there it was.

No, she decided, there was no reason to metaphorically bite Wander's head off. It would serve basically no purpose except to hear herself talk. It was just noise, and she was tired of it.

But if she didn't growl at him, well, then she had nothing to say to him at all.

Her mental floundering was interrupted by a furry hand on hers. Wander was still smiling at her, but it was gentler now, and there was a whisper of sadness to his expression that made Sylvia concerned that he was more aware of her inner turmoil than she'd like.

He leaned in a little closer. Then, lowering his voice as though he thought there might be someone listening, he uttered three familiar sentences.

"Havin' a rough day, friend? I've been there. If you'd care to share yer worries, I'd be happy to listen." He winked.

Sylvia blinked at him for a moment, her mind drawing a blank as to just why his words were so familiar. Then she remembered the little alien leaning over the bar back in Maurine's inn, feet scrabbling to keep his balance. That was practically the first thing he'd ever said to her. Back then, she'd been keeping her profession on the down low, but she wondered if even then he'd been aware of who she was and what she was planning.

A flush of anger spread suddenly under her skin, though she wasn't sure if it was anger at him or at herself.

With a glare, Sylvia pulled her hand out of his grip, straitening her back in the pilot's seat so she could look down at him.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded. Her voice was harsh, and the little alien pulled back slightly, smile slipping.

"Pardon?"

"You heard me." She glared down at him, pushing past all the confusion and, yes, guilt she'd been wrestling with. "You've been acting all buddy-buddy with me since we first ran into each other." She poked Wander firmly in the center of his face where his nose would be. "We are not friends," she said clearly, spelling it out for him for what felt like the thousandth time. "And if you think for one minute that turning you over bothers me than you can just think again. We're meeting Lady Infinite on Quarth tomorrow afternoon, I'm going to get a pile of money and I'm going to forget all about you.

"Sure, Sylvia." Wander's voice was quiet, but not like he had been cowed. It was more like he was showing her consideration, which only bothered her more.

"And another thing," Sylvia continued impulsively. "I'm not taking this ship back. I was never planning to. I only said that so you'd move back at the library."

Now Wander did look shocked, maybe even a little hurt, and certainly worried. His orange brows drew together.

"But we promised we'd bring it back."

Sylvia tore her gaze away from him, back through the window to the distant starts.

"You promised," she corrected. "That's your problem." She snorted contemptuously. "What, you thought I was actually going to go all the way back to that sandy wasteland to return a ship to a guy who tried to shoot me? Glorn almighty, you really must be nuts."

Wander was quiet, and Sylvia forced herself not to look back at him. She told herself it was because she didn't need to. She'd studied him plenty before. She kept her glower firmly in place so he wouldn't see any weakness if he was looking at her, but inside she was kicking herself.

This was exactly what she'd been afraid would happen. She'd given away so much about herself to her target, let him get far too close. Worse, she knew far too much about him as well, enough that the thought of handing him over to her client made a tight feeling clench in her chest. Grop, she even felt bad about what she'd said about not returning the ship.

She let the silence stretch out, even though it seemed louder than his chatter had been.

They'd be arriving at Quarth soon. Sylvia glanced at the navigation array without interest. That tight feeling inside her hadn't gone away with the smaller alien's smile. If anything, it was stronger now.

Their designated meeting point was a desolate, uninhabited world, perfect for a private exchange. Sylvia didn't know much about it, but she wasn't enthused by the idea of waiting there with nothing to do and way too much time to kill. She was hungry too, and Wander probably was as well, though he hadn't complained. He really wasn't the complany sort. It had been a long time since those pancakes that she hadn't eaten. She'd downed an energy bar once they were safely on course, but that wasn't really going to cut it.

What the flarp, she thought with a sigh, turning from the screen in front of her.

"Hey," she said neutrally.

Wander perked up anyway at her voice, a small smile forming on his face again.

"Yeah, Sylvia?"

"You hungry?"

"Sure!" The smile was back all the way now, and Sylvia couldn't help it. The question popped out without conscious intent.

"How are you so cheerful all the time?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Wander sounded genuinely curious.

"Well, what about all that stuff I just said?" Sylvia could tell she sounded exasperated and tried to bend her voice into a more neutral tone. "I lied to you about taking the ship back. Weren't you worried about keeping your promise to that deadbeat?"

"Yes." Wander rubbed his chin thoughtfully, considering. "An' I still think we should talk about that, but there's no sense in mopin'. After all, it's always sunny somewhere, Sylvia ol' girl." He winked again.

A hundred retorts rose in Sylvia's mind, a hundred things to say about why he was wrong, things she could say to try and take that smile off his face again. She pushed them away. She'd just be fighting an unwinnable battle. Besides, with what was going to happen to him tomorrow, she should let the little guy be happy for now. So she let it go, even though it rankled at her.

"We're stopping to get something to eat," she said instead, already adjusting the navigator to land them on a nearby planet.

"Ooooo." Wander bounced slightly in his seat. "Can I…"

"I'm cooking," Sylvia cut him off. She pretended to be fully focused on the instruments in front of her, but she could feel the question simmering behind her. "You can…help, if you want to," she finished grudgingly. A high-pitched squeal of excitement filled the cockpit and Sylvia winced. She didn't look over at Wander. She didn't want to see the huge smile she knew he'd be wearing now. It's just for a little longer, she told herself. It doesn't hurt to let him be happy for one more day. At least, it wouldn't hurt more than what she was already feeling.

The ship banked to the right, heading for a nearby planetoid, and Sylvia tried to ignore the trickle of relief she felt as Quarth slipped out of the viewscreen, at least for a little while.

A lot of back and forth with Sylvia's emotions in this chapter I hope she was believable.

Things are starting to come to a head. We're getting close to the handoff, and Sylvia's feelings are only getting more confusing. Next time, we'll see how supper goes.

I'm hoping to update Learning To Swim next. I'm struggling with some Peepers centric scenes I'm working on, so we'll see.

See you soon!