My first ever published fanfiction... ever. Be nice. But not so nice that you don't comment and critique.

Dead Space, it's characters, settings, and general Dead-Spaceyness are property of Visceral and EA Games!

Ellie liked to believe that Isaac was a good person. Really. She did.

She liked to believe that he valued her as a whole person, a member of humanity. She liked to believe that his dark, mysterious past was a strength. She liked to believe that she couldn't have found a better partner to survive this hell with.

But most of all, she liked to believe that he wasn't crazy.

He was nice to her, he really was, despite all of the shit that was happening. He had a way of getting her to do things she didn't particularly want to (Stross… always goddamn Stross) because he really believed in them. She could see that he actually gave a damn about whatever was happening here, that he wanted to stop the carnage with a desperation that was almost terrifying in of itself.

But sometimes, in the dark hallways of the Sprawl, she could see something menacing slip through the cracks.

He'd stare at blank computer screens, flashes of fear and pained longing flickering across his face. Sometimes, when he would leave, she swore she could hear him yelling in the hallways at unseen figures.

To make things worse, his attitude towards the constant death was nonchalant at best. He quickly looted corpses, ignored any bleeding or injured civilians that they saw, only flashing a look of absentminded regret as they passed.

"It's okay Ellie, I know what to do now…"

And as the ship slipped away, and Isaac started mumbling incoherently, she liked to believe he did.