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I sat up, my vision unfocused and body sore. After a few moments of slowly blinking to wake myself up, I registered that Anya's sleeping mat was empty.
My vision focused slightly more and I saw her, sitting on the couch in the lounge and staring at the screen.
I stood up, stretching my arms over my head. My back cracked and I let out a tired grunt as my heavy, sluggish legs moved me in the direction of the couch.
I sat a few feet away from her, noticing how she jumped as she saw me.
She wore loose gray sweatpants and a black tank top. I let my gaze sweep over her appreciatively before I spoke, "Can't sleep?"
"Hasn't been easy lately," she responded quietly, turning to look at me, "You?" Her head rested against the back of the couch, her expression more tired than usual, her hair messier.
"Been having some weird nightmares."
"Mm, wanna talk about them?" She looked down, picking at a loose thread on the couch cushion.
I scoffed and leaned back. "Don't try and fucking evaluate me."
"Mm, maybe you'd sleep better if you took the evaluations seriously," she mused, looking at me again.
The crash wouldn't have happened if I took the evaluations seriously, I almost spat, biting my tongue for the sole reason that she still believes Curly was the one who caused the crash.
"Kinda fucks us all over that the screen's stuck on that one. Ruining our sleep schedules aside, couldn't it have gotten stuck on—"
"The nighttime screen?" she interrupted, "Yeah, I like that one."
I briefly gazed at the harsh orange lighting reflected in her hair. "… Yeah."
"It's peaceful. And the blue is nice. But the sunset screen is just…" she sighed and shook her head with a small chuckle, "Sorry."
"Don't be. I get it," I draped an arm over the back of the couch, "So, what's got you so restless?"
"Just… Sleeping five feet away from a rapist is really fucking me over."
I laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Doesn't help that the Polle statue was all smashed up, was it?"
"That was you, wasn't it?" She stared at me.
"It was."
A moment of silence.
"Don't ever fool yourself into thinking you're safe with me, bitch."
She was quiet several moments longer. "… The protection was nice while it lasted. Even though it wouldn't have stopped you anyway. It would've just…"
"Given you a warning?" I rolled my eyes, crossing my legs, "Best it would've done is wake Daisuke up, but you know the kid doesn't fucking scare me, reckless as he is. Swansea could definitely do something, but he's not waking up 'cause a statue of a cartoon horse decided to start talking."
She nodded, staying quiet a while longer. "… Why do you think Curly did it?"
My heart stopped, but I gathered myself quickly enough for her not to get suspicious. "Crashed the ship? Guess he was just stressed. All the responsibilities of being captain got to him."
"… I told him about the rape, the pregnancy, right before the crash. Do you think it was a moment of weakness after finding out his best friend did that…?"
"… You told him, outright, about the rape…?" Even I was shocked. I mean, it wasn't surprising, but even she and I didn't call it that until… Until the conversation we were having in that very moment.
"Not really… I asked him why there's a lock on the medical room, but no lock on the sleeping quarters. He…"
"Didn't get it? Yeah, the whole 'bigger picture' bullshit," I spread my legs, "He couldn't even catch on to me being…" I trailed off.
"The guy you really are. Not just the rapist, the impulsive and violent control freak. The narcissist. The insecure piece of shit you really are."
I paused. "You're being awfully bold for someone who's talking to her rapist in the middle of the night."
"Then rape me." She crossed her arms. It was a challenge, but, god, part of me hoped it was an invitation.
"… Touché, bitch."
She sighed after a long pause. "I think he caught on to you being an abuser of some kind. And that shattered his perception of you, so he did something irrational," she scratched the back of her neck, "Our worst moments don't make us monsters, isn't that right, Jim?"
"Then our best don't make us saints."
"…" Her brow furrowed. "I suppose."
I rested a hand on my stomach. "I could really fuckin' go for a cigarette and a beer right now."
She sighed and smiled lightly. "Me too, and I don't even smoke or drink," she looked down, wrapping her arms around her midsection, "but sometimes I consider drinking the mouthwash, but… Would it help anything?"
"Might."
"Yeah. Might."
I stayed quiet, eyes closing halfway. It felt nice, talking to her. Just the two of us, in our own fucked up little world.
She stared blankly at the upper corner of the screen, chest slowly rising and falling with each breath.
"Even though the screen's kinda fucked," she broke the silence, "I still see it."
"See what, exactly?" I leaned forward, elbows resting on my knees as I followed her gaze.
"The dead pixel. If anything, it's more obvious."
"So's the dead pixel on this crew. Only a matter of time before Daisuke and Swansea catch on to the insecure control freak I really am, huh?"
She glanced at me. "… You got it faster than Curly."
With a scoff, I rested my chin in one hand. "He got it?"
"… No."
"… I've never been a 'bigger picture' kind of guy. I see the intricacies, the flaws, the subtle cracks in the foundation. Sometimes to the point I see flaws that aren't even there."
"Nice being attentive until your paranoia comes and fucks it over, huh?" Her remark was teasing, but there was a hint of something I couldn't quite place in it.
"Oh, you have no idea."
She, almost imperceptibly, shifted closer to me.
"D'you think we'll survive this, Anya?"
"That's just if we're rescued. And we'll only be rescued if, like, the shipment doesn't come for a couple years, and then they find the ship, and who knows how long that'll take?"
"Yeah, and, well, crew of five with only four cryopods… Someone would have to be left to die, and, even then, the pods need to be activated from the outside," she sighed, "And I'd be shocked if they're all intact after the crash."
"But, on the off chance we survive this shitshow, what do you wanna do with your life? Like, what comes next?"
"I'm gonna try and get another job, study a bit more, go to medical school…"
"After that bullshit with Curly, you still wanna be a doctor?" I shook my head.
"I guess I do. I wanna help people," she looked down at her hands, "and if I can keep Curly alive and, well, not quite okay, but at least quiet… It shouldn't be too hard."
"Well, regardless of what happens, we'll need to do something about…" I gestured vaguely to her stomach, "You gonna keep it, put it up for adoption, kill it?"
She blinked.
I sighed, "Y'know, if I didn't already know, I wouldn't be able to tell. Would be kinda convenient if you'd miscarried early on. Would save us both a lot of trouble."
She went quiet, staring at the screen while clutching her stomach. She stared, blank and unblinking. Her lips were pressed in a thin line and her eyes brimmed with unshed tears.
She quickly changed the subject, "… Why, Jimmy?"
Why what, Anya? I almost responded. But I knew what she was asking about.
"Control." It was a simple answer, even if there was far more to it.
"… Of course. I'm your… vulnerable crewmate… And you like the control high," she averted her gaze, "That's… Understandable, I suppose. I really hope you liked the power you had over me."
I did, god, I did.
She avoided eye contact, looking down. She seemed almost sad. Almost as if she was hoping I'd have a different reason for raping her.
She inched closer, now only a couple feet of distance between us.
"Are you attracted to me, Jimmy?"
Yes, I am, Anya. I obsess constantly over your gorgeous fucking face and your perfect body and your fucking voice and it drives me insane how, after everything I've done to you, you still treat me as a friend, even as a worthy captain.
I don't deserve that. But you still do it for me. And don't even start me on how you keep Curly alive with no fucking skin. Un-fucking-believable.
"… I suppose I am." Not enough. Those words are not enough.
Her shoulders relaxed visibly at those words, even if they didn't say everything I wanted to.
Another long pause. But this one was nice. It wasn't tense with an unanswered question or an uncomfortable subject. I shifted closer to her, and she barely tensed at all. She shifted closer to me.
This was peaceful, even if it were the worst fucking time to be peaceful and I was the worst fucking person to feel at peace with.
I could hear the light sounds of her breathing, could see the dullness in her eyes and the contours and grooves of her gorgeous face.
Something about the eye bags, her downturned eyes, every part of her expression that made her look perpetually tired, was just so beautiful.
She looked up at me. "… Can I do something crazy…?" She inched even closer, now mere inches away.
"Look at me, bitch, I love crazy." I flashed her a crooked smile.
She closed the gap between us and kissed me, softly and reverently. Her lips slowly parted.
I gasped. The urge to take her right there warred with the urge to pull away, to go down to the cockpit, lock myself in there, and avoid her as long as I possibly could.
She pulled away, eyes closed halfway.
I laughed loudly and shook my head. "Anya, what the fuck?"
What the fuck indeed.
Why am I fucking feeling things?
"Dunno, guess everything that's been overwhelming me has been so much that… I'd kiss someone like you," she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked down, "Did I overstep…?"
I tried to find the words to muster a response, some kind of snappy remark to reprimand her for doing that out of nowhere. But the words got stuck in my throat. I can't just be mean to her, can I?
I looked like a fucking idiot, repeatedly opening and closing my mouth. I swallowed thickly, leaning in and cupping her soft face in my hands.
I'm not worthy.
She parted her lips, wrapping her arms around me. Her soft, pale hands, the slight muscle in her arms…
I'm not worthy.
I kissed her, my tongue immediately pressing against hers. She whimpered, god, a sound that made me so fucking hard. I pulled her even closer, her breasts pressed against my chest.
I'm not worthy.
She began to grind down her hips against mine and I wanted, for a split second, to push her off.
My hands traveled down to the crook of her neck and I panted heavily. I wanted to fucking worship every part of her.
She pulled back, lips wet with drool, face flushed, and her eyes meeting mine with something new and different in them.
Not love. Never love. But a form of adoration.
I hope it's not love.
Anya's a smart girl, she knows better. She know better than to love me.
Because I would never spare her the same thought. We both know that.
I slipped one hand under the bottom of her shirt, my face burying in the crook of her neck.
I wouldn't let myself cry. Not in front of her.
She brushed her hands though my hair, and, most notably, didn't immediately pull away with disgust. She guided my hands to her breasts.
"There you go," she murmured, "See, Jim? Even your worst moments don't make you a monster."
I'm all worst moments, Anya. I am a fucking monster.
But raping you was my best. I'd do it again.
But I can't say that. Not here, not now.
All I could muster was a whine, squeezing and fondling her breasts. God, even when I assaulted her, I never really appreciated her body…
"Beautiful…" The word left my lips, but it didn't feel like my voice coming from my mouth.
My hands went to the waistband of her sweatpants and she put a hand up to stop me.
"Not tonight, Jim. We both need rest."
I sighed, lifting my head and kissing her again. "Okay, Anya. Not tonight."
She broke the kiss, her hands finding my waist. "… I'm still pregnant, Jim," she laid against my side, her head on my shoulder as she shifted to look at the screen again, "I know I haven't miscarried. The baby makes its presence known sometimes. It's annoying."
I stayed quiet, letting her speak. Her body felt warm against mine, and she was so comfortable and relaxed, even around me.
I'm not fucking worthy.
"I wish I could have an abortion. Even this far along. Is that bad?"
"Not at all, Anya. It's normal to want to abort a bastard child that's a product of rape. All it'll do is hinder you, because, let's face it, you can't just pop out the thing, put it up for adoption, and move on with your life."
"Maybe I can't stand the thought of birthing my rapist's child, but it's not because of…"
The rape, she refused to say aloud. But I could fill in the blank even as she thought it.
She clutched her stomach. "I was originally worried that I'd give birth right before we reach our destination, on the ship. But now… Our medical supplies are dwindling, and, well, I can't really do much to be my own doctor while I give birth. I'd have trusted Curly with it, but that's it."
"I suppose not."
She looked down. "I kinda hope we die before I give birth. Or maybe we go into the cryopods and the thing just dies by itself," she sighed and laughed softly, "A miscarriage would've been real convenient."
"The mouthwash might do that. Might not do much to kill germs, but Daisuke drank enough to half-kill him, 'n he's basically a baby."
She laughed, a soft, musical sound, that carried several undertones of all kinds of emotions. "Believe me, sometimes I want to. But… What if it doesn't work and all that happens is I give birth to a deformed baby?"
I chuckled softly and shook my head, pulling her closer.
Such a complex and beautiful woman. She should be broken, I should be the one who broke her, but she's stronger than me. Way stronger.
She fidgeted with the drawstring of her pants, untying the loose knot it was in.
"You said we should get some rest, Anya."
"Morale boosting. Didn't you and the captain do that all the time before the crash? And I think we could both use a bit of a morale boost right about now."
I felt conflicted. On one hand, she was offering herself to me. On the other hand…
I'm not worthy. That's it. Not even the whole rape thing, even though that's a massive issue she's seemingly ignoring, I'm just a shitty guy.
But I couldn't tell her no.
I pulled away from her only slightly, but she picked up on it, taking my face in her perfect hands.
"I want this," she enunciated each word so I'd know she was being sincere. It almost didn't work, but there was something about the way she looked at me while she said it…
My hands trembled as I began to pull up her top. She lifted her arms to let me pull it over her head.
My mouth practically watered at the sight of her breasts. I grabbed them both, my thumbs circling around her nipples until they hardened fully. My breath hitched at the soft murmurs she let out, slowly easing my top up.
I took off my own tank top, tossing it aside. "So, are we gonna take this slow, or—"
She interrupted me by pulling my pants down enough for my cock to spring free. I bit my lip as the cool air hit the sensitive flesh.
She pulled her pants down, taking one leg out and then the other. Her clothes were in a small pile on the floor, but I barely had a moment to focus on that.
She straddled me, lining herself up. Her soft thighs wrapped around my bony hips, the pale flesh marred with cuts. Some were scars from long before we even left, some looked a day old or fresher.
I held her hips in place, breathing heavily. "Anya…"
She kissed me, easing herself down. She whimpered into my mouth, breath getting heavy and shaky.
I wrapped my arms around her, hips twitching upwards as she began slowly, gently rolling her hips.
Her hands gripped my shoulders firmly, anchoring her as she went a bit faster.
The tight, wet heat of her cunt was all I fucking needed, god, she felt incredible. I groaned against her skin.
Every time her hips went all the way down to meet mine, she took a moment or two to grind her clit on my pelvis.
One of my hands went to her groin, my thumb pressing the sensitive nub.
She gasped, moaning shakily.
"Your clit's fuckin' huge, Anya. I bet it's real sensitive." I began lightly circling my thumb.
Her tongue lolled out only slightly before she bit her lower lip. I even got to see her eyes roll back a moment before she squeezed them shut. She couldn't hide how her back arched and her hips bucked into my touch, though.
I kept rubbing her, a satisfied grin spreading across my face as she let out a long, shaky whine.
My breath was starting to get ragged as I felt her cunt spasm on me. The sensitive head of my cock hit her cervix, and she began angling her hips outwards so that not only was I hitting her g-spot, but it was easier for me to rub her clit. I could even see a bulge in her lower abdomen from my cock.
God, she was almost as gorgeous biting her lip with her eyes half-shut and rolling all the fucking way back as she was screaming and crying and begging me to stop.
My orgasm approached and I rubbed her clit harder, faster, biting along her collarbone.
She inhaled sharply and moaned. "J-Jim… Jimmy… H-Holy shit…" A stupid little grin spread across her pretty face, and she couldn't hide it.
Her orgasm hit a split-second before mine did. I groaned shakily, but she, probably unintentionally, moaned rather loud.
"J-Jimmy! Fuck!"
Her body collapsed against mine, my dick still buried in her. She panted, looking up at me. "Your dick's pretty nice, y'know, for a guy who crams most of it into his personality."
I rolled my eyes at her remark, but there was no real irritation in my response. I guided her hips off, trying to ignore how my heart pounded at the lewd sight of my cum dripping from her perfect cunt.
I took it all in. Her shaky body, her heavy breaths, her flushed face, her swollen lower lip, her eyelashes dewy with tears of pleasure…
With trembling hands, I helped her legs back into her pants, pulling my own pants back up. I pulled her tank top onto her body, kissing her one last time before laying against the back of the couch, my eyes unfocused.
She curled up against my side. "… You really aren't a monster. Not the way I see it."
You see it wrong.
More to myself than to her, I mused, "Our worst moments only don't make us monsters if we consider them as such."
She tilted her head, meeting my gaze. "Huh?"
"Raping you is my best moment, Anya. Calling it my best moment is just proof that I'm a monster."
She was silent for a long time. The tension was palpable.
"… Good night, Jim." She looked away, staring at the screen.
I watched her eyes flutter shut, felt her body slump a bit against mine. I brushed a kiss against her forehead, staring down at her sleeping form. Her hand rested on my thigh, her knees up against her torso.
I could take her right here. Rape her again, show her what a monster I really fucking am.
But all I did was pick her up, carry her to her sleeping mat, and tuck her in.
As I walked away to go to bed myself, I heard her murmur my name.
"… Yeah?"
"Hold me."
I stopped, considering her sleepy mumble. After a moment of thought, I got into her sleeping bag next to her, pulling her against my chest. One of her legs immediately draped over my side, tangling with my leg.
I kissed her lightly.
I didn't deserve this, but god, I loved it.
For the first time, maybe I could sleep well. Maybe the nightmares would fuck off for one night.