Chapter Text
Eventually, they have to get up to eat.
By the time they do, Simon looks back to normal. He blushes again a little when they first agree to get out of bed and separate to stand up, giving Grace sidelong glances.
"Hey, uh." Grace says as he stretches up, cracking his back. He doesn't usually sleep in late these days, and his body is letting him know exactly what it thinks about the change. "That was, um. I liked that."
Simon's shoulders visibly lower. "Yeah. Me too."
***
Things are easier between them after that.
Not that the Hail Mary was entirely tense before, but it's smoothing out again into something familiar. Simon is blending into their tiny group day by day.
"You know how I said, uh. This was supposed to be a three-person mission?" Grace says while they're all in the dormitory together, wasting time while waiting for the ship to travel to Erid, still just under a year away.
"...Yeah?" Simon says at length. He's been introduced to the endless pdfs of books housed on the laptops, and has turned out to be a voracious reader. Grace could never sit still long enough to get through too many chapters at once, himself.
"Rocky remember everything Grace say." Rocky is up in his tunnel, working xenonite into something small that Grace doesn't recognize.
"Well. The idea was we needed a scientist, an engineer, and a pilot. The…last two died on the way here." Grace stops bouncing the ball he's got against every surface in the room, catching it and holding it in his hands instead. "I was the scientist, obviously. And after a little bit, I found Rocky, who…"
Rocky is silent a moment before he suddenly seems to understand, and he shifts his weight so a third limb can rise up in excitement. "Rocky is engineer!"
"Yup!" Grace smiles. He looks over at Simon, who looks over at him, eyebrows raised. Grace gestures briefly with the ball as if to throw it without letting go, and Simon puts the laptop down in order to put up his waiting hand. Grace tosses the ball gently his way and Simon catches it, looking bemused, but with the start of a smiling pulling at his mouth. "And now Simon's our pilot."
Simon drops the ball. "I'm, I'm not really a pilot." He fumbles.
"Simon better pilot than Grace!" Rocky laughs his rude, fluting laugh, and Grace can't even be mad at him. Because…
"He's right." Grace shrugs.
Simon shakes his head, but the smile is growing. "I don't know…"
"You're the third person we've needed!" Grace encourages, before he really hears what he's just said.
Simon and Rocky both look over at him. Simon has collected the ball back off the ground and stares at Grace like he can't believe what he's hearing. Which, fair. Grace shifts uncomfortably.
"Yes. Friend Simon is good addition to crew." Rocky agrees after his own quiet consideration. "Rocky happy happy happy Simon here. Friend Grace good at science, bad at common sense. We need Simon."
Grace laughs and looks down at Simon, who's still sitting on the floor holding the ball.
Simon shifts his grip, clearly telegraphing his throw before he pitches it back. His aim is unerringly accurate, right into Grace's waiting hand.
"Okay." Simon says. This time he doesn't try to smother his smile. "I'll be your pilot."
Grace can't stop grinning for minutes, after.
***
"Fuck!" Simon throws the wrench he was working with halfway across the lab before burying his face in his hands. He just lets out a guttural moan into his palms after that. It being muffled does a little to make it less intimidating.
Grace looks over from his own work station. "You uh. You good?"
"No!" Simon snaps. He stands up from the table, but doesn't pace, just gestures angrily while he towers in place. "The plants you have are equipped with a UV grow light, but it's just one strength for all of them, and if we're working with just the food on the ship for not just you, but me now, we need to maximize our food production as much as we can. That means I need to figure out how to modify this fucking thing." He bangs on the table with the word 'this', and the tools all jump and rattle with the recoil.
Grace slowly takes his protective goggles off, staring over his glasses at Simon. Simon is smart - that much was clear from early on - but he's really started to shine since being given the 'task' of helping their onboard plant life. Grace doesn't have a single green thumb so he'd been happy for the help. "I told you, I'm modifying the taumoeba strains so they have more vitamins in them, and not just protein and a few trace minerals. Between that and the food stores, it's more of a bonus if you can–"
"Stop!" Simon bellows, turning on Grace finally. "Stop making excuses for me! If I can't–" All at once, his fury collapses in on itself; a roof failing during a fire. Simon blinks wetly, and like coming out of a trance, he finishes, "I don't want you to starve just 'cause I can't pull my weight if I can't figure out how to modify this thing." Under his breath, as his hand comes up to palm his face, Grace hears 'stupid, stupid' alongside harsh swears.
Irritation falls out of Grace with the whoosh of his sigh. "Come on, you're not stupid."
Simon jolts like he genuinely didn't think he'd be heard. Or maybe just didn't think he'd be corrected. When he looks up, both his eyes are red…the literally-red one moreso than usual. "Kinda feel like it right now." He admits. He seems more vulnerable than argumentative.
"I know, bud, but trust me, I appreciate the help no matter what." And hey, maybe he's using his Teacher Grace voice, but it's only natural when Simon is standing there looking at him like a chastised little kid–
Oh. Oh crap!
Simon seems unaware of Grace's insight. He crosses his single arm across his body like it'll help him look smaller or maybe less vulnerable. "...Sorry for throwing the wrench."
"It's fine." Grace says easily.
Simon stands utterly still, looking lost and guilty and small. Grace takes his gloves off as quietly as possible - no snapping the nitrile for the flair of it - and tosses them in the little mediwaste bag taped to the side of his table. He stands up and slowly walks towards Simon. It's not like any room on the ship is particularly big, so it doesn't take long to be in arm's reach.
"Maybe it's time to take a break." Grace says, watching Simon carefully.
This only causes Simon to shrivel more, face screwing up in pain. "I'm sorry," he repeats with desperation. "I know I screwed up, but I can fix it, just– gimme another chance, I'm sorry–" He stops talking instantly when Grace touches his shoulder, snapped out of his begging to stare at Grace.
"Hey." Grace repeats. It's a little intimidating to be the sudden focus of all of that desperate attention. He forces himself to take a deep breath, too, and gives Simon's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I'm getting kinda tired too. No one's good at this kinda stuff when they're tired. Actually…" He narrows his eyes and tilts his head, playfully suggesting, "I think maybe it's dinnertime?"
Simon's big mismatched eyes stare up at him from underneath his hair. He's still angled towards the ground. "...Can we?" He asks tentatively.
"Yeah, bud. Come on, follow me." He takes his hand off Simon's shoulder only to offer it to him. Simon hesitates and then reaches up and wraps his fingers around Grace's palm, a huge sigh rushing out of him after he does so and nothing bad happens.
It hurts, but it's a bittersweet hurt. Grace has been secretly wishing for more of the - this, more of the caretaking stuff. He just hadn't expected Simon to be so damnably right that waiting til he got upset was more likely to get him there mentally. Selfishly, Grace still feels his heart beat raise in excitement.
Getting Simon into a chair at the table in the dormitory goes smoothly enough. Simon is pliant and trusting.
The first problem occurs when Grace tries to go prepare their food. Grace lets go of his hold on Simon's hand, smiles, and turns to get the freeze dried food.
He jerks back from the force of Simon not letting go of his hand. "Huh?" Grace says stupidly. He turns back around to see Simon's big eyes staring at him.
"You're leaving?"
Oh, wow, that hurts his heart. "To get food," he explains, a little stunned and exasperated despite his pity.
Simon does not look convinced.
Grace looks at him, seated so he's so much shorter, expression openly scared. "...You know who I am, right?" He feels bad breaking the illusion, but worry chokes him - is this too much for Simon? Or is this how it's supposed to go?
Simon's hand is strong where it grips his own. Grace feels the moment he squeezes tighter, a distracted spasm. Simon's brow furrows and while his discomfort doesn't abate, the quality of his stare sharpens. "...Grace." He says at length. He shrinks back, but he doesn't let go of Grace's hand even now. "Sorry. I… it's just, I-I wanted to…"
Now Grace knows he picked the wrong choice. "No, no, it's fine! Crap, I'm sorry. No, this is great. I was just worried because you're…" What, exactly? Needy? A little spacey and unaware? Acting on instinct?
…Like a kid?
Grace swallows and then he bends down, exactly how he would with Rocky, or with his students back on Earth when it's a one-to-one talk. "Sorry, Simon. I'm still new to this too." He uses his other hand to clasp Simon's between both of his for a moment. "How about…okay, hang on, he's still here, right…" Grace dips down and left then right, peering around at the table and floor. "Aha!"
He leans over and surfaces with the keychain he'd tried gifting to Simon days ago. Too early for it to be useful beyond a symbol. But now as Grace holds it up, recognition and wonder lights up Simon's eyes. Grace brings it over to their joined hands and presents it to him.
Simon hesitates, but eventually he lets go of Grace's hand so he can take the little fox sculpture.
When he looks back up at Grace, there's a glimmer of his adult self sharply staring out. "You sure? This isn't too…silly?" He asks.
Grace nods. He actually finds he can't not smile while he's looking at Simon holding the little fox, even while he looks unsure. He puts his hands on his hips while he can't hide his grin. "I like silly." He shrugs. Simon still looks embarrassed though, so Grace reaches out to give his shoulder a little shake. "So. I'm shamelessly bribing you with that little guy. Okay? I just need you to wait a minute while I get our food, then I'll be right back. Deal?"
Simon looks up at him. He seems caught between two worlds, especially since only adult Simon seems capable of handling Grace leaving his side in a way that doesn't embarrass him. Little Simon is too vulnerable to act rationally.
Grace takes a deep breath, reaches up, and ruffles his hair. It's so long it almost doesn't work, mostly just tangles around his fingers, but Simon still sputters and blows some of the strands away from his mouth. Grace smiles. "Promise me you won't put the fox in your mouth?" He asks.
"I'm not a baby!" Simon protests. But there's a childish edge to his voice that is infinitely endearing and reassuring. Grace grins at him.
"Well, then, prove it! Play with that guy without choking on him, and I'll be back before you notice."
Simon's disbelieving stare is a step up from his grieving panic of before. Grace takes advantage of the distraction he's laid out and nearly trips in his speed to raid the cabinets for the kid-friendliest rehydratable food within reach.
"Dang," he mutters, a bit impressed at his luck. "Guess it makes sense they'd have applesauce…" Is that going to be enough food? He can always make more later. There's an absence of noise behind him that is almost suspicious. When he throws a glance back, he sees that Simon has indeed settled down. He's hunched low, the side of his face against the table, staring up at the fox he's holding upright on the surface. He's looking at it curiously, expression only a little pinched. He wiggles the figurine so it looks a bit like it's walking.
Grace turns back around to the prep area with a smile.
When he brings both bowls over, he sets each down at their seats and joins Simon. Simon hurriedly collects the toy into his lap and sits straight up, looking guilty. Grace pauses, surprised, and then decides to act like this is all normal. "He can eat with you." He suggests mildly, starting to eat from his own bowl. They're eating the same thing - sue him, applesauce is good!
Simon hesitates, pulling his own bowl towards himself carefully. "E-even if…" Simon picks up the spoon and then looks torn, likely because he's just realized he can't keep a hand on the fox in his lap and on the spoon at the same time. "Even if he's been bad?"
Grace tries his best not to choke on his applesauce. This might be above his paygrade, but he's going to have to just do his best. "Bad?" He repeats, infusing his voice with gentle disbelief. "I didn't see any bad foxes around here today."
Simon doesn't fidget with things the way Grace does when he's anxious or thinking. He goes disconcertingly still, except for the tremor in his hand. "E-even if he was bad when, when no one was looking?"
Grace nods. "Even then. Everyone gets to eat applesauce." Grace insists.
Simon brings the fox back out. After a moment's thought, he pushes it right to the edge of the bowl. Grace is almost disappointed that he doesn't mime feeding it as he starts eating - but maybe he's not quite that young. But the little fox statue stands a friendly guard on the table while they eat.
"What's applesauce?" Simon asks at length, shy.
Grace smiles. "Glad you asked."
***
As dinner winds down, Simon lets out a yawn, though he tries to hide it behind a fist and his hair. He looks over at Grace sheepishly, shoulders hunching in.
"Mmm…" Grace stretches his arms above his head with a yawn he doesn't even have to fake - he'd almost forgotten how humans trigger each other into mimicking those. He hasn't had a socially-triggered yawn in literal years! "I'm tired after eating all that. What about you?" He prompts.
Being completely unsubtle with Simon while he's like this works, though. He shyly gathers the fox into his lap, out of sight, and mumbles, "Me too."
"Wanna rest for a bit?" He does not say 'go to bed'. He has an instinct that that is always the wrong thing to say to anyone under the age of, say, ten. Or even himself, if he's honest, if the lack of normal sleeping and the frequency of accidental 'just for ten minutes' naps he takes sitting up are any indication.
Simon just nods, looking unsure but hopeful. Grace stands up first and waits to see what Simon does. Simon stands up, wavering a little, but he takes uncertain steps towards his actual bed.
"Oh, uh." Grace touches his arm, technically from behind him now. Simon jolts away from him and he feels instantly like a monster. "Sorry! No, I was just gonna say, uh - there's more room on the uh…" He looks over at the lump of mattresses and pillows they set up days ago in the corner. He actually can't think of a better word for it than… "Nest."
"Nest?" Simon asks, still cringing a little away from him, but he obediently looks where Grace is pointing. At the sight, recognition lights up his eyes, as does glee. "For both of us?" He asks, even though he'd just flinched away from Grace two seconds ago.
It's a little like getting stabbed in the chest. No big deal. "Yeah, both of us. Go get settled, I'll grab us a better blanket." Grace returns to his own bed and takes the quilt, the colorful patchwork one gifted from Earth, and then comes over to the mattress-nest.
Simon has gingerly sat on it like he's still not sure he's allowed.
"Come on, come on, I'm cold!" Grace lies with a little whine in his voice, as he sits down and dramatically flicks the blanket across both of them. Simon obligingly scoots further onto the mattress in order to get under the quilt. His eyes are wide with wonder and a little apprehension. Grace isn't sure how to get rid of the last of that, but darn it, he's going to try.
"Uh… Me too." Simon mutters. And then he wriggles a little closer, looking nervous and pleading.
Grace's heart clenches and a protective instinct almost chokes the words out of his throat before he can speak. "Yeah? C'mon then, buddy, c'mere." He holds out his arm.
For a full two seconds Simon looks like he truly doesn't understand what Grace means. Then, slowly, inch by inch, he curls in until he's flush against Grace's side. He'd put the fox in his pocket while he needed his only hand to maneuver on the bed, but he takes it back out as soon as he's settled. He holds it tight against his chest.
"Hmm. You know, I've been learning to knit? We don't have a lot of sets of clothes here–" It occurs to him abruptly he needs to not bring up too many adult, real concerns right now and he stumbles a bit– "s-so I wanted to make sure I can mend things and make new ones. Well, I bet if I use some of the stuffing from a pillow we don't need, I can make you a softer one of those." He points at the fox.
Simon curls protectively over it. "I like this one!"
"No, yeah, that's great! You can have both. You know, one for like, hardcore playing since that one won't break, and one for sleeping with. So you don't, I don't know, get its little plastic body imprinted on your cheek forever or something."
Simon squints his eyes. "It wouldn't be there forever."
"It might be!" Grace shrugs, reaching out to grab the laptop.
"You're crazy." Simon says. There's a flicker of mischief in his eye, and oh, Grace knows the look of a kid who's testing the safe boundaries of what they can get away with.
He couldn't possibly bring himself to reinforce Simon away from this, even if he regrets it later. "Maybe." He agrees simply, winking.
Simon giggles and Grace grins back at him.
"So, what do you think, little guy? Movie? Book?" He asks, opening the laptop.
"Book." Simon says after a moment. "I wanna listen to you read."
Oh, wow, he has to not cry or he won't be able to read. "Yeah, I can do that."
It's been long enough that Simon has gradually melted down into the bed. He's laying in a comfortable version of their first failed attempt at this - Grace is sitting up reading, Simon is laying on his good side. But this time Simon is cuddled up close, head on Grace's thigh, fox held loosely in his hand. At one point, Simon starts snoring, but he stirs when Grace stops reading, so Grace just keeps going. Maybe the white noise helps him sleep.
Simon shuffles against him, working himself closer, and then he speaks for the first time in a chapter and a half. "Thank you, Mama."
Grace freezes. He stops reading. His entire mind crashes to a halt.
Simon is loose and warm against him, until he tilts back to look at him through dark hair that's fallen into his face. "Was… Was that…" There's a flicker of adult worry in his eyes, blurry and uncomfortable.
"No! I mean, yes, that's fine, I uh." Grace swallows and finds his eyes are full of tears. His smile is real, though, even if he feels like he's one blink away from crying. "Yeah. Mama's happy to read to you, little guy." Simon had asked for his mom the first time, Grace remembers. It's probably just the most comforting term he can think of.
As Grace pets Simon's head and soothes him back into relaxing against his lap, he realizes he also really likes that. "Mama's got you."