Ash leaned against Clarkston, the two of them tucked up in his bunk, the curtain drawn. "Think we'll get into much trouble if we're caught?" She asked, her knuckles brushing up against his.

He nudged back the curtain to peer outside of their hidden space, before tilting his head back to rest it on hers. "Oh, absolutely. But I doubt there's much they can do to us at this point." His thumb rubbed against the back of her hand, and he felt a flush creeping into his cheeks. "We're not really causing trouble, just... shirking certain responsibilities."

Ash made a small noise, picking up his hand and settling it on her lap, her fingers pacing with his. "I think we'll get in more trouble with the rest of the crew. That means they'll have to run simulations without us." Jer voice turned lighter, slightly teasing. "It is a bit hard to have a running ship when you don't have a captain or a pilot. It's not like any of them know how to fly it."

"Yeah..." Clarkston's voice darkened, a stark contrast to Ash's playful tone, and she shifted to look at him, though little was discernable through the darkness.

"What's up?"

He shrugged, pulling their entwined hands up to his lips and selling a small kiss on her knuckles. "I just worried," he replied, mumbling the words into her skin. "That if something ever happens to you, or to anyone else on our crew, we're done for." He sighed, letting go of her hand and rubbing at his forehead. "We spend all this time doing specialized training, but if one of us can't do our jobs anymore, we have no backups. If one of us goes out, we all do."

"Oh."

Ash was silent for a long moment afterwards, before leaning up against him again. "I could teach you to fly," she said quietly. "I could teach all of you to fly, if I had to. And I think I could learn Carter's job easy enough. Navigation and flight go hand in hand, right?"

Clarkston sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Or something like that." Another beat of silence. "What if this doesn't work? We spent all this time throwing ourselves into training just so we can find a way out of here. But what if this mission is its own kind of cage? It's not like we can easily turn around and find our way home again if things get messed up. We'll be stranded out there."

"We're going to be out there togethrr," Ash reminded him. "And if we are together, I'm sure the six of us can come up with some kind of way to get us home."

"And if we can't?"

"We will."

Ash seemed so sure of her words, but tension still gnawed inside of Clarkston, a worry that ran so deeply inside that it seemed burned into his mind. He had thought of this every day since they had agreed no more escape attempts. And yet, here he was, realizing that even if they played along, they may never win. That this game might always have them set as the loosers.

"Besides," Ash continued. "Why would the Doctor go through all this trouble of getting us ready if he's just planning on leaving us out there? We'll have to find a way back home, if he wants anyone to take his findings seriously. The only thing our absence would give him is a straight shot to jail when the world finds out."

Clarkston scoffed. "Are you saying us succeeding will make it ok that he kidnapped us?"

Ash shook her head, bitterness creeping into her tone. "That will never be ok." She stopped, swallowed, continued. "But if it does work, and we come home, he'll be heralded as a hero. And while our families may never forget what happened to us, if I know anything about history, it's always written by the winners. And the Doctor could become the biggest winner of them all."

Clarkston took a deep breath. "You really think they'll ignore everything else that happened here? Every law he's had to have broken?"

"Oh, absolutely." Ash leaned in closer to him, forcing Clakston to shift slightly as not to disturb the curtain. "They'll paint him as a genius, and we will be seen as heroes too. As his little "oracles", if you will. And the rest of this story will be forgotten to time."

"Untill it isnt," Clarkston reminded her. "It seems like every year we find out about a new scandal from the past. What's to say our story won't be any different?"

"Cause it's the government." Ash was now fidgeting with his fingers, tapping down against every knuckle. "And the government will cover it up. And even if it does get found out, it'll have been too late for anything to be done. Because the world will only see the glory, and never ever see all the blood and tears it will have taken to get to that point."

"I'll remember it," Clarkston promised, lacing their fingers together once more. "I'll remember each one of you, and what we did here to survive."

"If we survive," Ash reminded him.

The door clunked, and they both went silent, Clarkston's breathing catching within his chest. The sound of footsteps moved slowly through the room, and Clarkston shifted ever so slightly so Ash would be hidden. The bed creaked, almost earsplitting in the silence. The boots thumped over, and the curtain was flung open and there was Johnson, their guard.

A scowl creased across his face, and he leaned close, supporting himself with the frame of the bed. "And what do you two think you're doing in here?"

Something deflated inside Clarkston. He hadn't been able to hide Ash, to shield her from whatever consequences were coming their way. "N-nothing," he stammered out, his heart beginning to pound. "We were just..." He didn't finish. It wouldn't matter what he said, Johnson would still get mad at them.

"It was my idea," Ash piped up from behind Clarkston, still partially hidden. "I suggested we try and be alone for a while. We weren't doing anything, I promise, but..." She too trailed off, and a quick glance behind him told Clarkston she was just as flustered as she was.

Johnson pinched the bridge of his nose. "I swear, it's like you all know the Lieutenant wasn't going to be here today."

Clarkston perked up. "Wait, so the Warden isn't here today?"

Ash smacked him in the shoulder. "Clarkston! You can't just call her that, he literally works for her!"

Johnson muttered something under his breath and stepped back. "I've spent all day chasing you lot down. Darius was hanging from the ceiling, I had to get Kennedy and London to stop dueling with pipes, and now you I find you two—" he gestured at them, clearly at a loss for words. "Canoodling!"

Clarkston flushed hot and he could hear a small squeak come from Ash. "We weren't canoodling!" She protested, but it didn't seem to sway Johnson in any way.

"Out."

They complied, with Clakrston waiting just behind Ash as she came down the ladder, his hand hovering at the small of her back. Johnston sighed again, then pointed to the door. "Go to the dining hall and eat. I don't want to have to explain any more of you absences to the simulation instructors."

Ash wrapped her hand up in Clarkston's and pulled, her head tilting in the direction of the door. Bit Clarkston resisted, staring at Johnson, the tiredness to his expression. "What's stopping you from helping us get out?" Regret hit Clarkston almost immediately after the words left his mouth. He hadn't meant to say that aloud, the question was stupid and a quick ticket to getting solitary for the night.

Johnson didn't react immediately, but Clarkston could see the difference, the slow sagging to his posture, the smallness that the motion carried, making the flightcrew seem almost weak. "I don't have a choice here either," he said slowly, the hands at his side flexing, moving. "I got told I was picked up for a top-secret project. Now I'm here, and if I leave, or break the rules, I'll be court-martialed." He straightened settling his hand on Clarkston's shoulder. "I would help you if I could. But I'm just as much a captive to this situation as you are."