“No, it’s not. Amada is going to die out there in the middle of the wasteland of space. My ship is barely going to make it to the next outer-world refuge. The engines are chugging along on their last leg of life. Everything is a wreck, and it’s all my fault.” Angry spittle sprayed from his lips and evaporated in the air.
As Cyburn spoke, his fingers slackened around the glass neck of the bourbon bottle. He made a sobbing noise, and his shoulders shook.
I coiled my hand around his and took the bottle from him before he dropped it and we would have to deal with broken glass shards on the floor. I leaned over and placed it on the ground beside my foot.
“You are doing the best you can under the monumental stress of the situation we’re in,” I praised.
Cyburn’s eyes darkened. He squared his shoulders and sniffled. He wiped his green, wet cheek with the back of his hand.
He wasn’t thinking straight. He would never break down like this—especially not in front of me, if he weren’t intoxicated.
He was always the pillar of protection and stability that I needed, but now it was time for us to switch roles for a moment.
“Maybe she’ll turn her radio back on to try and get the Belic’s attention. You just have to keep trying.” I hoped my mild suggestion would ease his mind somewhat.
Cyburn sagged into the mattress with a heavy plop that made the foam dent inward.
When he perched his elbows on his thighs again and cradled his head in his hands, I stroked his back to comfort him.
“She’s too stubborn.” His voice was muffled under his hands. He didn’t lift his head.
After a few moments of silence between us, I was cautious with my next words.
“Cyburn, you have always been there for me. You have always fulfilled your promises to me. I always feel safe when I’m with you. I know you are stricken with guilt right now but trust me when I say that you did all you could do to rescue Amada from the dark corners of her mind. Sometimes it's just not enough, and that’s the way it is. Some people don’t want to be saved.”
Cyburn’s features darkened. He sniffled again. “I could have done more. I let her get away.”
“She was too sneaky,” I pressed. “None of us saw it coming.”
“I’m the leader. I’m supposed to notice everything.”
“We’re still breathing, and we have you to thank for that.”
Cyburn scoffed, his debating laughter swelling with enough agitation to make me release my hand from his back.
“Just tell me what I can do to help you,” I said.
I knew it wasn’t his ex-lover that he wanted back. He couldn’t live with the fact that she was going to die out there in the void of nothingness, alone. It was a horrible image, even for me, to comprehend.
Cyburn’s eyes searched for the now half-empty bottle of bourbon. The heavy scent of alcohol was pungent and seeped from his pores.
As he spotted it and leaned across me to fetch it, I hurried to my feet and snatched it before he could get to it first.
“Give that back,” he demanded.
“I know you think you can use alcohol as an outlet to escape and forget, but I promise that it’s not doing you any good. Please, Cyburn, let me help you.” There was enough pleading in my voice that Cyburn’s rigid frame relaxed. He groaned and put his head in his hands again.
“You can’t help me.” He shook his head as he spoke. “Everything is a torrential mess.”
“I’m here for you,” I encouraged. “We can figure it out together, as partners.”
I didn’t want him to forget that we were in this as a team.
“I love you, Cyburn. I’m committed to you, and to the honor of your planet. I want to help you defend it and take it back, but I can’t do that if you shut me out.”
Cyburn’s eyes blinked upward and landed on me. There was brokenness inside the blackness of his eyes that crushed me.
“I love you too.” His voice was calmer now. “I appreciate the effort, but I just need you to understand that I need to be alone right now. I process everything better that way. Talking about it just stresses me out more.”