Red Horizon (The Martian Fanfiction)

Chapter 8

The Hab was silent except for the steady hum of the life support systems, a sound that should have been comforting in its constancy, but tonight, it felt stifling. The Martian night pressed against the small structure, as though the vast, lifeless planet outside was weighing down on the fragile space that kept them alive. In the dim light of the Hab, everything seemed too quiet, too still, as if the world had forgotten them.

Olivia lay in her bunk, her body heavy with pain despite the meds Mark had given her earlier. The ache in her leg was relentless, a deep, throbbing pulse that sent sharp waves of agony through her thigh and up into her ribs. Every breath felt like a knife twisting in her chest, and no matter how she shifted, the pain wouldn't relent.

But it wasn't just the physical pain that was breaking her down.

In the quiet of the night, her mind wandered to places she tried so hard to keep at bay during the day. Memories of home, of Earth, slipped through the cracks in her resolve, the faces of her parents and her younger sibling flashing before her like ghosts.

Her mom's soft voice, always reassuring, telling her everything would be okay. Her dad's steady presence, the way he'd squeeze her shoulder in silent support. And her little sister, only seventeen, full of life and hope and dreams that seemed so far away from here. Olivia could see their faces clearly, their smiles. She could almost hear the sound of their laughter, the kind of laughter that filled a home with warmth and love.

But now, in the darkness of the Hab, that warmth felt a million miles away. They felt a million miles away.

A sharp gasp escaped her as she shifted, the pain in her ribs flaring up so suddenly that it took her breath away. Tears welled up in her eyes, hot and unwelcome, and she tried to swallow the sob that was building in her chest. But it was no use. The weight of everything—her injuries, the isolation, the endless expanse of Mars—came crashing down on her all at once.

Olivia pressed a trembling hand to her face, as if she could physically hold back the flood of emotions, but it didn't stop the tears from spilling over. Her body shook with silent sobs, the pain in her chest tightening as the tears came harder. She missed them—her family, her home. She missed the simple things: her mother's cooking, the way her dad would make bad jokes to lighten the mood, the sound of her sister's music playing too loud in the next room.

She missed Earth.

She missed everything.

And now, stuck on this cold, barren planet with nothing but pain and survival to focus on, the distance between her and the life she knew felt insurmountable. She wasn't sure she could keep it together anymore.

Her sobs, though quiet, must have reached Mark, who had been sleeping lightly on the other side of the Hab. The moment he heard her muffled cries, he stirred. His body was sore and stiff, but he pushed through the fatigue. Concern washed over him as he sat up, glancing toward Olivia's bunk. In the dim light, he could see her curled up on the thin mattress, her body trembling.

"Olivia?" His voice was soft, careful not to startle her.

She didn't answer, too consumed by the pain and the crushing weight of her emotions to respond. But Mark didn't need her to. The moment he saw her like that, he was out of his own bed, moving toward her despite the ache in his side.

"Hey, hey..." He crouched beside her, his voice filled with worry and a quiet urgency. "Olivia, what's wrong?"

She shook her head, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes as if she could somehow stop the tears, but it only made her chest tighten more. "I... I can't..." Her voice broke, the words choked by the sobs she was struggling to suppress. "It hurts, Mark. Everything hurts..."