Mark was screamed, it was near impossible to speak over the rush of fire and air. Electronics were out and all his view that of fire. Issac and Aaron were out cold, the first jolt slamming them against their restraints hard enough that the whiplash had blacked them out. Mark himself had taken a hit, his right eyes stung with what he knew would be blood, and his memory a lost haze.
He knew what he was supposed to do in this situation, training had remained. Fear itched father and father in to his mind as he desperately flowed through his options. With each failure he felt more and more calm, more and more accepting of what was happening. Exhausting his last option he knew his fate. Even if he could gain mechanical control of the falling shuttlecraft, the damage was too much. No matter where he struck the earth it would be like that of an asteroid: a hulking crater and nothing more.
It would be only a minute before they returned so violently to the surface of the world. No need to rouse the others, best to let their last moments not be filled with inescapable dread. Mark could feel tears begin to form, but they would not flow. No memory of lovers or family could find his way to his mind, nothing that a bitter cursing of his own fate.
Closing his eyes Mark centered himself, it would be best to not see his demise rush up to greet him.
Silence. Another moment and more silence.
Cracking open one eye Mark found himself starting at Earths horizon and the stars below it.
“Well, least he’s not a total loss after all.”
Looking to his right mark found both Issac and Aaron smirking at him. Issac was trying not to burst out in laughter, and Aaron had a shit eating grin on his bearded face.  Mark blinked, and like cogs things fell in line. “You son of a bitch!”
The clipboard that was thrown was neither light nor slow moving, but Aaron deftly dodged is flat and strait arc, catching it when it rebounded off of the wall. “No need to throw a fit.”
“Throw a fit?!” Mark snarled. “You just had me believe I was about to die.”
There was a click as Issac slid from his harness. “I’m going to go get some popcorn, this is going to be good.”
“That’s not exactly what happened…” Aaron began. He didn’t make it very far in the face of Marks rage.
“Hazing!” Mark protested. “I swear to all things holy, I thought we were past that schoolyard bull shit already!”
“Mark…”
“Nope.” Mark stated cutting him off again, slapping the release on his harness at the same time. “Not dealing with you. I’m going to go check our emergency systems. Made me fucking paranoid.” Pushing off with decent force Mark aimed deft for the access to the rear of the craft.
“Aww,” Issac protested as Mark maneuvered past while he stuffed his face with a handful of popcorn. “Be that way I’ll just enjoy the view then.”
Ignoring him Mark made it to the secondary emergency controls and pulled the clipboard from its nearby resting place. The minutes past slowly as he tried to bite back his anger with procedure. By design the thoroughness of the checklist ran against his thoughts long enough to straighten them.
Reaching to his eye, he pulled his hand across it, expecting dry blood but only coming away with the lightest of sweat. Did I imagine that? A power drain ran through the system, matched by a distant whine of an interlock and pressure seal. A quick glance told him all of the space suits were present, and his blood turned to ice. He wouldn’t!
“Issac! Aaron!” Mark shouted as he bolted towards the front half of the craft where the seal would be located. I swear to god if this is another…
Marks thoughts froze as his eyes crossed the view port for the chamber, a body floating gently in the now void. It was Issac, and Mark could not bring a thought to his mind as he watched him continue to eat from his popcorn bag.
“Idiot,” Aaron stated calmly as he punched in the command to cycle the air lock closed and open the internal door. 
It’s a strange reflex to try to take a step back in zero gravity as it does not work, and leaves you just as close to the source of fear as when you started. It took Mark three tries before he realized his mistake. Grabbing a railing he bolted past the calm Aaron, intent on the communications system. 
A hand wrapped around his ankle arresting all of his momentum. The area he was in was one of the large sections of the shuttle, and as the hand let go he knew he was hopelessly trapped in the open. Desperate Mark tried to ‘swim’ through the air. It was a tactic for the situation, but it would take him near a minute to reach something he could grab onto.
“Dolt,” Aaron cursed as he dragged Isaac back into the main room of the craft and closed the hatch.
“What? And why is he so panicky?”
Mark oriented himself to the pair of them, unable to come to terms with what he was witnessing. The vacuumed killed, everyone knew that. “What are you?” Mark breathed.
Issac stared at him, then paused in his munching of his popcorn. “Oooh, no way,” he realized turning to Aaron. “Is he what they call a figment?”
“I suspect so.”
“What the hell is going on here?!” Mark demanded. “How the hell are you still alive?”
“We aren’t,” Aaron stated calmly. “The shuttle crashed, we died.”
Mark remained unmoving. “I’m dead?”
Aaron smirked again. “Hmm, I suppose not. The shuttle did crash, we did die, but when I say we I don’t think I get to include you. After all you were never really here were you?”
“What?”
“He’s got to be a figment,” Issac confirmed. “Makes a bunch of sense. So panicky. If he is though, this is super dangerous for him.”
“Agreed, time for you to go home Mark.”
“What the hell is going on?!”
“Time to wake up.” The fist was a blur and caught Mark on the right side of his face, just below his cheek.

Mark awoke with a groan, which intensified as he reached for his face. Just what I need: tooth problems. Throwing his legs out of bed mark righted himself. Reaching for the remote to his TV mark flipped it to the local news channel, they always did traffic reports and would give him an estimate of how much time he had left.
Sliding into his morning routine Mark paid no attention to the TV, its sound a pleasant background noise. He was up early due to the tooth ache, the report wouldn’t come for a while.
“Aaron Kerensky and Lieutenant Issac Amerov…”
Mark blinked, pausing his toothbrush mid stroke. Learning out to the side he gazed at the TV, and could see two familiar faces, that he refused to believe. Pinching himself Mark winced at the pain. “The hell?”
Grabbing up the controller Mark turned the TV up. “After a mixing problem with one of their fuel tanks. NASA has release an early press statement to that end and that they have recovered the ships blackbox. Most of the data on the blackbox remains intact including the ship microphones. A few at NASA who have listened to the recording find it harrowing, stating that they can only hear an additional voice that did not belong to either of the deceased astronauts. They are attributing this to corruption due to damage, and potential hysteria among one of the crew during their final moments. Some of the technicians claim that the thirds so called voice is so faint and distant that most likely it is a simple trick of the mind or figment of the imagination among the listeners in the wake of such a disaster.
“Nope,” Mark swore, turning of the TV. “Nope, nope nope. Not possible, someone must have drugged me or something. Returning to his morning routine Mark froze at the sight of his reflection. Longer hair had hidden it, and he swept his bangs back to reveal the dried blood of a cut over his eye. “Right, Ok then. You are allowed to panic.”