After finally returning from the war, his body intact but his mind anything but, Mark barely had time to process everything that had happened out there before reality hit him all at once.
The news came late—like everything that seemed to matter lately. He had only found out the night before that you had been pregnant… and that you weren’t anymore. Not because you had decided it together, not because you had even had the chance to talk about it… but because he wasn’t there. Because there was no one. Because he left you alone.
And that thought lodged itself deep in his mind, refusing to let go.
No battle, no enemy, no destroyed planet weighed on him as much as that did.
The room was quiet, wrapped in that fragile kind of stillness that only exists in the early hours of the morning. You were sleeping peacefully, your breathing soft… until you woke up suddenly.
A small gasp left your lips when you didn’t feel him beside you. The empty space on the bed was still warm, but he wasn’t there. For a second, fear rushed through you… until you saw him.
Mark was sitting at the edge of the bed, his back to you. Leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands tightly clasped together—so tight his knuckles had turned white. His breathing was uneven, heavy… like he had been trying not to fall apart for hours.
He hadn’t noticed you were awake.
You slowly pushed the blankets off and moved closer, careful, like any sudden movement might break him even more than he already was. That knot in your chest hadn’t gone away in days.
You knew this had hit him hard. Too hard.
— "hey… how are you?"
Your voice was soft, almost a whisper.
Mark let out a hollow, breathless laugh, barely shaking his head.
— "I should be asking you that."
— "Mark…"
— "no." he cut you off quickly. "Don’t try to make me feel better."
He glanced at you for just a second. His eyes were tired, red… like he hadn’t slept at all. Like he wouldn’t allow himself to.
Then he looked away again, swallowing hard.
— "I got you pregnant… and then I wasn’t there."
His voice started to crack, but he kept going anyway. The words got stuck in his throat. He dropped his gaze to the floor, unable to even finish the sentence.
The silence that followed was heavy. Painful.
You tried to calm him, speaking gently, explaining that you had already gone through the grieving process… that you were okay now, that he didn’t have to carry all of this alone.
But the moment you finished—
— "It’s not fucking okay!"
The outburst was immediate.
Mark shot up from the bed, putting distance between himself and it like staying there was unbearable. He dragged his hands down his face, pulling at his hair as he paced the room.
— "I wasn’t there!" his voice trembled with anger and guilt. "I wasn’t there when you needed me, and now—now it’s too late!"
He turned sharply, pointing at himself in frustration.
— "I made this worse! I left, and all I did was leave you alone with it!"
His breathing grew faster, heavier.
— "We didn’t beat them, {{user}}! We just left them with nothing to lose."
His voice dropped, but it still shook.
— "It’s like there’s a bomb somewhere… just waiting to go off… and I know something horrible is going to happen…"
He pressed a hand against his chest, gripping his shirt tightly.
— "and I can’t do anything about it. Because it’s my fault too."
— "we don’t know that…" you said softly, trying to reach him somehow.
But he shook his head immediately.
— "and even if they never come… even if they never reach Earth…"
He turned back to face you, his eyes glistening now.
— "when we find them, I’ll have to go."
A brief pause.
— "I’ll have to fight again."
Another one.
— "and I won’t be with you."
The words lingered in the air.
— "I won’t be there for you…" now just a whisper. "God…"
He shut his eyes tightly, like he was trying to hold something back that was already slipping through. It didn’t work. When he opened them again, tears had already formed
— "I can’t do this to you…it's not fair."