"Don't worry. I'm good at waiting."

He tried to reassure me. He wanted to tell me that this was the best option. HIs voice was as confident as ever, but his expression told me that he was just acting brave. It was a face that made me want to grab him, pull him back and tell him that I was sorry for even suggesting this idea. But it was too late. "Mark . . . are you really sure about this? I didn't really think it through before I spoke up." "Don't worry about it. Your plans always work out. We wouldn't be here if it weren't for that intuition of yours, you know?" He shot me a cocky smirk the same as he always would whenever I got cold feet. Usually it would put my mind at ease. But seeing him standing there above me, the only one not hooked up to a long-sleep box, I couldn't help but fear for him.

+++++

We all tried to think of a solution. Some people wanted to build a robot that could handle things while we slept, but the rest of us were skeptical. Who would maintain the robot while it was maintaining us, we thought. Others suggested that we tough it out. Junk the boxes and use them for spare parts. It would be a long wait, but at least we would be all together. The rest of us shot that one down too. The more people awake for this trip, the more chances for someone to lose it and ruin everything. Cabin fever was a real threat when you were twenty light-years from the nearest anything. I thought about it hard as well. I wanted to contribute something. While the others were experts in fields like robotics and physics, my only area of expertise was psychology. It was important, sure, but practically, even the nutritionists were more important. I never did much but make people defensive. Nobody wanted their dirty laundry dug up and on display on a trip like this. I couldn't even blame them for making assumptions either. The number of ships that went dark to crazed crewmen could make anyone doubtful. The only one that didn't keep me at a distance was Mark Furley, a technical specialist and one of the crew's best cooks. Mark happily engaged with me whenever I sprung a counseling session on him. He spoke openly about his fears and his dreams. His favorite foods, books, television shows. His casual hobbies and his life's passions. His history, family, and friends. Nothing was off-limits. He went on and on about his uncle's property in the American South-east, in the sweaty marshlands of the southern states. "It's vast and empty." He told me with nostalgic scenes playing back in his eyes. "I spent days at a time in little shacks and cabins that dotted the swamp. I would disappear without any word. My parents had to call the police to search for me more than once." He laughed. We were quick friends. Whenever something went wrong on the ship we would work together to fix things. He usually got all the credit, but that made me happier than annoyed. I'm sure that if everything had gone as planned he could have helped the rest of the crew open up to me, but maybe that's just wishful thinking.

+++++

Our mission wasn't anything special. We were simply the next group of specialists being sent to the new world. It should have been a clockwork operation. But as we approached the wormhole that would send us hurdling to the other side of the galaxy at faster than light speeds, we discovered a problem. The ship's life support was bugged, or malfunctioning, nobody bothered giving me a proper explanation. Mark told me that it basically meant that our long-sleep boxes wouldn't properly maintain themselves, and by extension, us. The wormhole would send us hundreds of light-years in what would only feel like a couple of hours when everything went right, but without proper life-support we couldn't sleep through the trip. As a result, we would be forced to experience a trip that would last for what would seem like decades. It was dangerous. Long periods of time would pass with no noticeable change to our bodies. The human mind doesn't like that. Not one bit. I was certain that most everyone on the ship would lose their minds, but then I had a thought. As we were arguing back and forth about possible solutions I raised my hand. After a few minutes of waiting my arm went numb and I tried to lower it, but Mark finally noticed. He spoke up and gave me everyone's attention. "I can only think of one solution to this issue." I said. "One of us . . . will have to stay awake, and keep everything running." The tension in the room rose to a breaking point. the crew's eyes darted back and forth. They sent desperate glances at the people they liked and the people they didn't. Worried eyebrows arched up and almost quivering lips were bitten. They all knew in that moment that I was right, but none of them wanted to be chosen. If I let that fear fester any longer the bubble would have burst and ended our trip right there. That's how dangerous things were. Deep space did that to people. I spoke up again. "I think it should be Mark. Mark Furley." The tension in the room evaporated in that instant, but I couldn't be happy. I saw Mark's eyes go wide. His breath caught in his throat, and I thought he'd protest, but he just swallowed that shock and smiled. "Yeah, that could work. Good idea, doc." He said after a moment of silence. Seeing a way out the rest of the crew started moving right away. They pulled Mark to their stations and made sure he was familiar with everything he would need to do. All the while he put his full attention into everything they tried to teach him. Maybe he was keeping his attention off of the horrible amount of time that was approaching. All the while, I was being crushed by guilt. Guilt from volunteering Mark in the first place and guilt from feeling relieved after seeing his commitment. I practically doomed this man.

+++++

The system was up and running. The crew took their places in the boxes, hooking themselves into the system that would shorten the trip from decades to hours. Only myself and Mark took our time. I wanted to say with him for as long as possible. I pleaded with him to let me stay awake with him. If I could stay then I could keep an eye on him and we could keep each other sane. But he refused every time. "You don't have to risk yourself like that. This really is the best option." He told me. He countered all of my pleas until he had me sitting in my box. I was plugged into the system. I tired one more time. "Please, Mark. You don't have to face this alone. Our chances would be better if there were two of us." "You know that isn't true, doc. You would have said that from the start if it were, right?" Darkness began creeping into my vision as the machine did its job. "Yes . . . I guess you're right." "Remember this: I'm the best man for the job. I don't doubt that for a second, so you shouldn't either." My eyes closed and the sound of breathing was getting louder and louder in my ears. I tired one last time to convince him. "But . . ." "Don't worry. I'm good at waiting."