Brad didn’t want this. He didn’t want to take the blame for the destruction raining down on him and his friends. He had tried to solve the problem, genuinely. But it hadn’t been enough.
His useless self hadn’t twisted the main water valve far enough and it had doomed them all. The space station was being torn apart by an explosion, and it was only a matter of time before they were all dead. All from a few burst pipes.
The worst Brad fuck-up yet, and the last.
He would take the blame willingly. It was his fault.
A vivid image of a puppy appeared in his head. A dalmatian with white spots on top of a black coat. Brad shook his head side to side in a quick jerk, forcing himself to think past the image.
Addy was in pain, screaming, and he couldn’t bring himself to help him. If he got off of his back and helped, it would mean being confronted with what he had done.
What he had done…
…killed them all.
It barely mattered – he had already accepted his fate – but he wasn’t ready for the confrontation yet. He needed to disappear for a few hours, to spend some time alone and find balance. To wrestle with himself before wrestling the others. Needed to put life on pause and let all of the emotions drain out of him.
Maybe the confrontation would never come? Maybe they would all die before it could happen?
Brad wouldn’t let that happen. If he was responsible for his friends’ deaths, he owed them a chance at justice. Addy could take a few swings at him, and maybe Blaine would too. Alec could run his mouth, outlining in great detail how dumb and incompetent Brad was. It was the least he could do, and it would feel wrong to deny them that. A lecture before dying, and two beatings.
He lay flat on his back, looking up at the lights. Two fixtures ran along the ceiling, each containing two long fluorescent tubes. One of the tubes directly above him had been shattered and was no longer emitting light.
He could hear Blaine and Alec talking nearby, a brisk exchange of shouts. They were treating Addy, with Alec taking point. Adapting to the shitty situation which Brad had created.
The possibility of dying didn’t bother him. It sucked that he was dying so young, but he had lived a satisfying life. Middle-class family, like-minded friends, and plenty of time to relax and enjoy himself; he was very fortunate. Hell, he had traveled to space. Maybe that wasn’t enough for others, but it was more than enough for him.
Still, he felt bad because he knew it wasn’t enough for his friends.
Blaine would die unsatisfied. Despite all of his charm and effort, he hadn’t found the love of his life.
Addy would die unsatisfied. He was fresh out of college and on track to becoming the next Wolf of Wall Street.
Alec would never be satisfied. He could live for 100 years and still die unfulfilled. Taking those years away almost felt like a mercy. But Brad had still robbed him of his potential.
He had robbed all of his friends, thanks to his stupid fucking mistake.
The dalmatian flashed through his memory again. He did his best to ignore it.
Above him, the rest of the lights went out. Brad noticed the constant hum of a motor above him, a sound that had always been there but had never registered in his thoughts. He was able to hear it now because the motor’s hum was dying down, irreverently grinding to a halt.
At the same time, his body began to feel lighter. Brad couldn’t help but feel relieved. After seeing the pale Cyclops for the first time, he had noticed something wrong with his balance. Every inch of himself had become slightly heavier. It had caused coordination issues and had thrown him off in critical moments, like in the fight against Addy in defense of Blaine’s vault.
Further complications had manifested after the second Cyclops vision. While still feeling heavier, his balance and coordination had returned to him all at once. It had caused him to become unbelievably queasy.
Worse yet, Brad had begun to lose his mind. The off-color dalmatian continued to appear in his mind, seemingly at random. Sometimes it would appear three times in the span of a minute. Other times, he would go hours without it appearing, giving him hope that his sanity was returning. Only for the dalmatian to appear again and bring all of his doubts back to the forefront.
His friends’ voices would also occasionally get deeper and slower, but that didn’t worry Brad nearly as much.
Nothing compared to that damn puppy.
With the weightless feeling, he also noticed the ceiling getting closer. He scrambled to bring his arms up in front of him, in case the ceiling tried to crush him. The motion caused his body to start rotating in a lazy circle until he was upside down and facing the floor.
“Shit!” Brad swore, comprehending the situation, “What happened to the gravity?”
The others drifted through the space around him. Addy was floating away from Blaine, leaving a stream of crimson bubbles in his wake. One of the bubbles splashed against Blaine’s cheek, leaving a tiny red splatter.
“We lost power,” Alec explained, “Whatever was creating the artificial gravity is turned off.”
Alec was keeping himself from floating away by gripping one of the holes in the floor. The back of Addy’s head thumped against a wall, changing his trajectory and slowing him down.
“I can’t believe it,” Addy started, cradling the arm with the blood-soaked tourniquet, “I completely underestimated Brad’s ability to fuck up. It’s like his superpower, only it sucks.”
Brad let him say it. He wouldn’t get angry either; he deserved this. He turned to Blaine and shook his head at him. Don’t defend me, he communicated.
Blaine didn’t.
Instead, Blaine said, “I can’t believe it either.”
He deserved to hear that, too, but it still stung. Blaine always had his back, especially when it came to Addy.
His head was beginning to feel sore. The dalmatian appeared again.
He let it linger, deciding to take comfort in the imagined creature. A last vestige of companionship, following the loss of his last friend.
“This isn’t constructive!” Alec argued, “Let’s do this after we escape the life-threatening situation, okay?”
“What’s the point? It’s over. Brad fucked us,” Addy said. He spat in Brad’s direction, and the spittle soared through the zero-g environment, soaking the corner of Brad’s glasses. Brad waited a few seconds before wiping it away with his thumb.
“It’s not over. We’re still breathing, right? You can’t see it, but there’s a massive shield around the space station right now, keeping all of the air from escaping. Someone is protecting us!”
This prompted Brad to suck in a hefty gulp of air. He hadn’t realized he needed it so badly. His mounting headache subsided a little.
“Why are they protecting us but not saving us? They…,” Addy paused to take a breath, “…have teleporters, after all.”
“We don’t know that. We never confirmed that,” Alec said, with too much authority, “Maybe our captors are in the process of saving us and it hasn’t happened yet? Maybe this is all part of the game?” Alec stopped to take a breath, “In either case, we need to focus on surviving. We need to work on finding actual medical supplies for Addy. After that, maybe we could try sending a message out. An SOS.”
“Who the fuck is going to respond to our SOS?” Blaine asked, still pissed for a variety of reasons, “We’ll be dead before anyone get’s here.”
“We’ll be dead regardless. We might as well try,” Alec said, firm.
“Waste of effort. Count me out,” Blaine said, before pushing against a wall to propel himself towards the door. Brad watched him glide through the opening without looking back. No invitation for Brad to go with him.
Everyone was breathing heavier now. The air was thinning.
“I thought conflict was supposed to… bring people together,” Alec said, wearing a frown.
“Not always. But I’m still with you,” Addy said to Alec, “Not about to die without a… fight. When Houston had a problem, he didn’t fly away into the… angst-colored sunset. Nah, he got off his ass and fixed the problem. Then he went home and… fucked his wife and told Apollo to… fuck off.”
“Whatever you say, man,” Alec said, shoving himself off of the floor. Addy kicked out at the ceiling and Brad moved to follow them.
Addy stopped in the doorway, extending a palm towards Brad, “Fuck no. You’re done.”
Brad’s chest slammed into the hand, and he allowed Addy to push him away. Brad opened his mouth to respond as he floated backward.
Alec was quicker, hanging from the ceiling just beyond the door, “No, let him come. You can… hold a grudge later. For now, we need unity.”
“Go without me,” Brad said, “It’s fine, I get it.”
Meanwhile, his headache was returning with a vengeance.
“You heard the boy,” Addy said, “Conflict might… bring people together. But you can’t team up with… the guy who created the conflict. That’s what I call a… conflict of interest.”
“No,” Alec said, “We leave no one behind. If you don’t want him… helping, then fine. But he’s coming. Brad, come on.”
Addy heaved an exaggerated sigh and immediately regretted it, sucking all of the lost air back in. He floated to the side so he was no longer blocking the door. Brad considered for a moment before flying over to them.
They pushed and pulled themselves through the curving hallway back towards the main hub. Addy and Brad occasionally crisscrossed each other’s paths as they zig-zagged from wall to wall. Alec was methodically reaching for wires and mounted fixtures, less keen on the chaotic flying.
And Brad was puzzling over why Alec wasn’t mad with him. Of all of his friends, Alec seemed to fear death the most.
How is he keeping his cool right now? How is he 100% sure that things will be fine?
Maybe he was biding his anger for the sake of survival. Alec didn’t lose his temper nearly as much as Addy, but he definitely had one. And it was bad, often turning the most rational of the group into an irrational shit-storm.
He’s definitely saving it for later. And I don’t blame him.
“Mother… fuck,” Addy said, weezing, “That’s just perfect.”
Ahead of them, the hallway terminated in a cacophony of destruction and jagged edges. The explosion had ripped this part of the space station apart, severing a large section of their path. Dust, metal scraps, and other debris floated aimlessly through the ten-meter gap of open space where a hallway had once been. Beyond the void, and slightly to the right, was the rest of the hallway and the door to the main hub.
The scene was bathed in soft white light, which was being cast from a semi-see-through bubble surrounding the vessel.
Only it wasn’t a bubble. It was made from lines and flat edges. A dozen and a half white triangles tesselated together in a round-ish shape.
“Not… worth it,” Alec decided for everyone, “Besides, we… haven’t explored the rest of the… rooms yet. We can come back… Addy!”
Addy floated forward, grabbed one of the jagged edges where the wall had been ripped apart, and launched himself across the gap. Brad and Alec tensed, and Alec scooped at the air in front of him, even though it was far too late to pull Addy back.
Addy traversed the gap smoothly, spiraling as he went. He had flipped upside down by the time he reached the other side.
Alec’s shoulders slumped, the tension releasing. Brad’s headache bit into his concentration, a lightheaded fuzziness beginning to take hold.
Addy grabbed at the doorframe on the other side, stabilized his movement, and then used his free hand to flip us the bird, “How’s that for… not fucking worth it? I… did it with one of my… arms all fucked up! Now it’s your turn!”
Alec shook his head vigorously, “Still not worth it! Let us know… what you find over there!”
“Yeah, ok. Why don’t you get over yourself… and stop being such a… pussy? I’ll let you cheat and use your grapple guns!”
Alec fidgeted with the holsters at his side, still unsure.
Addy continued to taunt them, “What about you…, deadbeat Brad? Want a shot at… redemption? A chance to prove you’re not… completely useless?”
The idea of redemption had never crossed Brad’s mind. Probably because redemption was impossible for what he had done, putting his closest friends in a situation where death was all too likely. If they survived this, then maybe he could make up for what he had done. It would be a long road, no doubt.
But he didn’t see that happening.
“How about an opportunity to prove… that you’re worth a fucking damn! To show that you’re more than just a… world-class fuck-up!”
Even if he managed to make reparations, Brad would fuck up again. Maybe not as bad. He would be careful from now on and play things smart. Ludicrously smart. But it would still happen. It always happened.
The dalmatian arrived in his memory, warming him slightly. It wasn’t enough to ward off the pain and light-headed dizziness, but it was still pleasant.
“You fucked us all… you really did!”
“Addy!” Alec shouted, “This is excessive!”
“Maybe it is, but I need to… get this out there, and I’ll shout it into the void so the… whole world below us can hear. Brad’s a fuck-up! He got us all killed because… he was too goddamn stupid! When I’m dead… my grave will read… ‘Here lies an asshole…, defeated by the legendary dumbass. May he rest in booze, bookoo bucks, and… big-titty bitches!”
“Great. How poignant,” Alec said flatly, still fiddling with the guns.
Brad knew he was a fuck-up, but every problem could be fixed. ‘There’s always a solution,’ was what Alec liked to say. He could get better and he could prove that he was worth a damn. If he wasn’t able to accomplish that – after receiving life’s biggest wake-up call – then what was the point?
Brad grabbed one of the pipes running along the wall and pulled himself forward, catching himself at the edge of the frayed hallway so that he could better orient himself. It seemed daunting but flying across the gap really would be simple, so long as he lined up his trajectory well-enough.
“Brad, what the hell are you doing!” Alec shouted.
Brad knew Alec wouldn’t try to stop him, so there was no need to rush. He held the edge of the outer wall and carefully spread his torso against it. From here he could pull forward and send himself in a straight line to the other side. Simple.
The dizziness nagged at him, threatening to throw off his aim. He breathed in deeply, focusing, and then tugged at the edge of the wall. He felt his body slide parallel to the wall and knew in that instant that his launch had been perfect.
He plummeted through space, with an arm curled around his forehead to protect his face from the floating debris. The earth loomed above him, smiling down on what would be his first worthy achievement. The first milestone in his long path to not being a fuck-up.
Brad braced himself to collide with the door at the other end of the hall. It would happen any second. One, two…
Five seconds passed before Brad experienced his first nag of doubt. He removed the arm from his forehead so that he could see better, knowing he would regret it when his head slammed into a wall. Maybe Addy would catch him? Brad looked straight ahead.
Nobody was going to catch him.
The space station wasn’t even in sight anymore. He frantically flipped his body around so that he could look behind him and saw the station steadily drifting away.
He had missed.
How had he missed?
Terror seized him, cracking through his headache and filling his frame with a deeper kind of pain. Absolute regret. Self-loathing.
No road to recovery. He had taken the first step and failed. Failed. Always the fuck-up. He-
He was going to die in space. Suffocate. Burst through the protective bubble, pop it, and doom his friends. Was it made of glass? It looked like it was made of glass.
Fuck! Not like this!
He was out of time. Out of chances. No redemption.
Everything he did made things worse. He should have stayed on the floor after the explosion. Staring up at the broken light. Should have done nothing.
Too late.
Brad collided with the bubble, passed through it, and began to scream.
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