Rick looked down at Molly, a strange peacefulness on her face only brought by sleep. Despite his lectures on racing well-rested, she had been tiptoeing in for many evenings now. She started with a question- an excuse for conversation- like a nervous child, trying to hide the fear of everything she knew being light years away. He could feel the worry though. Molly was much more subdued at night, stripped of the rash personality she wore like armor.

They would sit on the bed and talk, grow tired and lean in; Molly somehow always ended up wrapped in a blanket, his arm around her shoulders. Rick wondered when the last time she had been this close to someone was, when someone had held her last.

"I'm gonna stay up later than you," she'd say, eyelids already drooping, "and I'm gonna see you take your sunglasses off."

"I'll stay up later and see what your head looks like without those goggles then," he teased back.

"Those are…different."

What could he say to her? There was nothing that made up for the pain she had been through or the pressure being the Earth pilot put on her. No matter how personal their conversations went, he couldn't find a word of sympathy or advice that didn't sound cheesy and hollow. Rick leaned over, realizing she had finally succumbed to sleep.

"Goodnight, little mouse."