❝Flowers grow back even after they are stepped on and I will too.❞ - intoxicatingtouches

Bronwyn contorted her face in confuse as Watney shut the log off, staring at him dumbfounded as he stood up and stretched dramatically. He scrunched up his face as Bronwyn placed a hand across her wound, feeling a slight ache as he flexed carelessly.

"Sorry can you run that by me again-" she spoke, "you want to grow things on a planet where nothing grows?"

"Exactly," Watney nonchalantly retorted, placing his hands on the back of his hips to push out his chest as he exhaled loudly. "It'll be a piece of cake," he sarcastically added before relaxing in his posture, "we can start work in the morning, let's just procrastinate dying tonight yeah? See you in the morning, g'night."

She nodded with a small wave, her eyebrows still knit together in confuse as he wandered out of the main area. She inhaled, her fingers firmly placed on her dressing in attempts to soothe her anxiety before a sudden gush of confusion took her again- "Wait, who the Hell procrastinates death?"

☇

Beck tapped his fingers boringly on the desk, the computer objecting a blank screen as his dulled eyes bore into it. Behind him was an empty chair facing its own computer that he battled to ignore, an agonising reminder of who would have sat there if not for the previous unfolded events.

He licked his dry lips emotionlessly as he sunk into the chair, staring up at the ceiling as his expression remained painstakingly blank whilst he basked in his own company. His own company was something he was abruptly thrown into lately with Bronwyn being the only person he'd only ever want to spend time with since her passing.

It was difficult, every moment without her was difficult. His mind constantly and persistently lapsed with the horrors of her being thrown into Watney, unable to scream for her own rescue and his hand missing hers by inches. It was excruciating to know she was there one moment, existing and alive and then simply gone the next. He couldn't shake her off and nor could he urge himself to end his bereavement because he simply just couldn't get her face out of his mind, not for even the shortest second.

Whilst he allowed his mind to devour him, Martinez hesitated by the hallway entrance for a moment, acknowledging Beck was still silently grieving which was depicted by his careless façade. Forming his lips into a firm line, Martinez braced himself before gently speaking out to Beck from across the room, "shift change Beck, get some rest buddy a'right?"

Beck remained silent, forcing himself to reply with the smallest nod as Martinez felt completely helpless. Eventually shuffling out of the entrance, Martinez sheepishly left Beck to continue sitting with himself quietly.

Beck remained silent until he lowered his head to stare at his feet, instantly feeling a sudden overwhelming surge of tears pooling in his eyes he never realised had formed. In reaction, he clenched his eyes shut and looked up at the ceiling again as he breathed out vigorously. His lip quivered but within a few moments, it trembled with anger as he wiped violently at his eyes, "goddamn it Bronwyn-" he seethed before the sound of her name leaving his lips reduced him to silence again, the notion leading him to place his head in his hands.

☇

Bronwyn hadn't slept at all during the nights storm that violently rattled the HAB so the arrival of morning on the Martian planet was a blessing to her, Watney however, not at all finding it a struggle as he snored the night away. As she heaved her legs over the edge of the bed, she felt a lurking ache from her wound as she slowly climbed out of bed to eat her ration of breakfast, Watney's vague plan being the only thing that momentarily rekindled her motivation.

Her bare feet padded against the flooring as she made her way into the small kitchen, quietly yawning as her curls sprawled all over her face. After a long, over exaggerated stretch to soothe the ache in her abdomen, she carefully began to prepare hers and Watney's breakfast, splitting it equally to ration it before she tiredly wandered into the main living area to eat.

Almost collapsing into a chair from fatigue, Bronwyn blinked hard a few times before staring at her food; bread and powdered egg. Slightly tugging it with a fork, she sighed as the undeniable need for food suddenly slipped away as the hunger shifted towards the, 'eating seemed more like a chore,' end of the spectrum.

She sighed, pushing her plate away from her before resting her elbows on the table, rubbing her face vigorously as she exhaled. 'All the more for Watney,' she initially thought before her mind wandered off aimlessly, eventually blurring onto her family.

Space really did have a habit of taking people from her family- she detained a small ironic laugh at the thought before her mood twisted sombrely. Not only had it left her mother widowed, it now left her- was there even a word painfully descriptive enough for a mother who had lost a child?

She bit her lip as she stared across the table before Watney suddenly caught her attention as he traipsed in, yawning before taking a double shot at Bronwyn.

"Wow," he uttered, "you actually look dead," he added before groggily pondering past her.

She snickered as she stretched her legs under the table, "that's rich from you."

"I'm the richest man on the planet if you think about it," he added as his voice suddenly sounded distanced, "besides you ray of sunshine, why haven't you eaten your breakfast?"

"Ceisiais i fwyta ond nid wyf yn llwglyd," she replied in Welsh, a grin plastering onto her face as she heard him mutter, 'what the fuck was that?' before she rose to her feet and tucked her chair in with a laugh, "I lost my appetite, it's yours if you want it."

"No I'll put it in the refrigerator so we can ration it when supplies become drastically low and we're desperate enough to eat something you've cooked," he retorted before she rolled her eyes, crossing her arms across her chest as she leant on the table.

"Your unfunny jokes aside, we need to clean the solar panels outside and fix the mess that storm made, we can't avoid outside forever," Bronwyn spoke as Watney nodded, munching on a packeted bread in agreement.

"But borrow a top from someone," he scowled as his eyesight landed on her, "borrow from Beck if you have to, he won't need it but you do," he scrunched up his face as he turned back into the kitchen, leaving a confused Bronwyn staring down at her blood stained t-shirt.

"Are you queasy over blood Watt?"

☇

Earth hadn't at all moved on from the untimely disposal of Mark Watney and Bronwyn Evans. Still mourning the death of the ARES III members, the entire world forced and urged the press into hearing range of all NASA conferences and official meetings to listen for the mention of their beloved but deceased astronauts.

It was a phenomena that was beginning to stir the patience of Teddy Sanders, of whom the Press occasionally referred to as Teddy Krueger. Not only had one of his most valued workers, Mitch Henderson dismissed himself due to grief until he was adamant he'd recovered, but the entire association seemed to be against his intentions which were only imbedded in NASA's success.

He huffed in his leather chair, rubbing his face with his hands in annoyance as Venkat Kapoor protested for him to authorise his satellite time which he continued to detest against.

"It's not about the satellite time, Venkat," Teddy sighed as he clasped his hands together on the desk, staring up at Venkat who stared dumbfounded. "We're a public domain organisation," he added before grimly raising his eyebrows in hopes Venkat caught on, "we need to be transparent on this?"

Venkat sat down, "okay?"

"The second we point the satellites at the HAB, I broadcast pictures of Bronwyn Evans' and Mark Watney's dead bodies to the world," Teddy bitterly explained.

Venkat stared in disbelief, "you're afraid of a PR problem?"

"Of course I'm afraid of a PR problem," Teddy retorted, "another mission? Congress won't reimburse us for a paper clip if I put two dead astronauts on the front page of The Washington Post-"

"They're not going anywhere, Tedd," Venkat merely snapped as Teddy fell silent at Venkat's solemn mood, "I mean, they're not... They're not gonna decompose, you know, they're gonna be up there forever. Meteorology estimates that they will be covered in sand from normal weather within a year-"

"We can't wait a year," Teddy scowled as Venkat stared boringly at him, "we've got work to do-" he suddenly fell silent as his expression brimmed with an idea.

"I've got it!" He exclaimed as Venkat stared in confuse, "I've got it, listen here's how we do it-"