Chapter Text
“Simon?” Grace asked, running a towel through his sponge-bath-wet hair. “You doing okay?” The lights were a warm, dim golden color. Sunset color.
Rocky appeared at Simon’s side, angling his head this way and that. “Do not say ‘fine.’”
Simon set down the book he’d been trying to read, having been stuck rereading the same paragraph for twenty minutes. “As okay as I’m gonna get. Trying to get to sleep so I can stop thinking. Not working very well.”
Grace sat at the other end of the bed. “Yeah, I have a hard time shutting my brain off, too.”
“No, really?” Simon raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.
“Amaze,” Rocky said drily, looking up from where he was soldering two panels of xenonite together.
Grace sighed, letting out a ghost of a laugh. “Gonna be a long night for all of us, I guess.”
Rocky set down his project, which looked like a xenonite replica of his claw. “Rocky Grace Simon spend time together, question?”
Grace attempted a smile. “Yeah. That would be nice. Just… hanging out.” He glanced at Simon. “How does that sound to you?”
“Hanging out? I already lurk in the lab while you guys are doing stuff.”
“I know, I know, but this would be…” Grace gestured helplessly.
Rocky grumbled quietly to himself, then said, “Grace want do something Simon likes. Grace worried Simon bored with science.”
“No, no,” Simon said instantly. “I’m not. Honestly. I mean, the stuff about wormholes and quantum… whatever… is a bit beyond me. But I don’t mind it.”
Grace looked at Simon, then slowly looked over at Rocky.
“Simon might be lying. Might just be anxious,” Rocky said with an indecisive shuffle of feet.
“I’m not lying,” Simon repeated. “The stuff you’re doing is interesting. Important.”
Grace blinked in surprise, then his smile widened ever so slightly. “Well… still, you’re part of the crew. If you want to do something with the group, now’s a great time, since we’re pretty much set for travel tomorrow.”
“Yeah, problem is, I don’t… do… group activities. Till now, ‘groups’ were either my brothers or prison gangs. Sorry to disappoint.”
Rocky made a low, sad whistle, then turned to face Grace expectantly.
Grace rubbed the back of his neck. “Um… group activity… hangout… maybe a movie night?” he asked with a sheepish shrug. “You… do know what movies are, right?”
“I’ve heard of them,” Simon hedged. “Might have seen one… a while ago.”
“Well, let’s try it out. If you’re up for a bit of a climb.”
Simon shrugged. “Alright, better than staring into empty space.”
Grace clapped his hands together in excitement, wincing apologetically when Simon flinched. “Rocky, help me bring every soft thing on the ship.”
Simon followed Grace up the ladder to the Don’t Go Crazy Room, feeling a little like he was watching a movie of himself. This was one of the most absurd moments he’d had since waking up here. If the walls started melting, he wouldn’t even be surprised.
The DGCR became an impromptu viewing room, complete with a couch made up of blankets and pillows piled together. Rocky raced for the far end of the couch-nest, snuggling up into a tangle of limbs. Grace paused, took the middle, then patted the empty spot next to him. Simon stood there, frozen. This was wrong. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t for him. If he stepped forward, the illusion would shatter like the window in his dream.
“I don’t bite,” Grace said with a small, almost-nervous laugh. “Unless you’re a pineapple pizza.”
“Disgusting,” Rocky said immediately.
“What the fuck is a pineapple pizza?”
“I’ll pencil that into the curriculum.” Grace smirked.
Rocky stomped. “You will not.”
This was already weird, and Simon was already neck-deep in it, so he decided to step forward and see what happened.
What happened turned out to be that he sank into the soft surface of the couch-nest, hip and shoulder just barely brushing Grace’s, and sat there stiff and unmoving while Grace and Rocky flicked through a menu of movies, arguing amongst themselves.
“Lord of the Rings,” Grace suggested.
“Sauron,” Rocky countered. “Too scary right now. Matrix.”
“Dude, no. The face-melting thing? The pod scene?”
Simon winced. “Let’s not.”
They continued down the list for a while like that before settling on a film called Speed Racer that looked practically vintage. Grace’s eyes lit up in childlike glee when the symbol of the production studio appeared on the screen to a fanfare of music. Then he paused, standing abruptly. “If we’re having a movie night, we need snacks. I’ll be back in a minute.” He nearly tripped over his own feet as he hurried to the adjacent kitchen.
Simon glanced over at Rocky in sheer bemusement. Rocky just shrugged. “Grace only this excited when teach class.”
Was that all this was? Grace saw him as a naive schoolchild? The thought was weirdly grounding. It explained why he was so… nice. Certainly better than the alternative, that Grace wanted something from him and was waiting for Simon to let his guard down.
That makes no sense, he scolded himself. But he couldn’t quite let go of the possibility, either. It settled in the back of his mind, pricking at him like a thorn tangled in his clothes.
Grace came back with something that smelled faintly sweet. He handed a warm bowl of oatmeal to Simon and placed the other on his own lap, then gave Rocky some sort of nutrient paste that the alien ate with deeply horrifying gusto.
Simon stared at the pale yellow discs in his oatmeal and poked one experimentally with a spoon. It was squishy and sticky. Was that what food was supposed to look like? But something about the smell sent a curious pang through his stomach, briefly chasing away the simmering resentment.
“Since you’ve been keeping solid food down,” Grace said, “I figured I’d add in some sugar. Special occasion, y’know? This is banana, a fruit. Rehydrated, unfortunately. They taste better fresh.” He spooned one into his mouth in demonstration before restarting the movie and dimming the lights.
Simon continued poking at the oatmeal. It looked depressingly like the slop he’d eaten in prison. Feeling Grace’s concerned gaze burn into him, he gathered a lump of it and half a banana slice into his mouth.
The flavor danced and sparked across his tongue. An involuntary noise of surprise escaped him, one corner of his mouth twitching upward.
When was the last time he had sugar?
Had he ever had sugar just for the sake of it, not to disguise rot or bitterness?
This was too much. Too indulgent. Almost addictive. He set the bowl on the floor, letting the food settle, letting whatever primal force this was ebb away.
“Flatterer,” Grace muttered, lightly brushing Simon’s ankle in a playful kick. The contact fizzed through him and he flinched away, then felt a rush of regret. Grace winced apologetically.
“You don’t have to eat this,” Simon realized, watching Grace eat another mouthful of the bland oatmeal. “You haven’t been recovering from near-death. You could have… shrimp or something.”
Grace set the spoon down, nearly choking on his mouthful as a laugh caught him off guard. Rocky let out a surprised trill.
Catching his breath, Grace sputtered, “Shrimp?!”
Simon raised his hands in a defeated shrug, lips twisting in something resembling a smile as Grace’s laughter caught on. “I don’t know what people eat at the movies.”
“It’s…” Grace wheezed, “not usually shrimp, to say the least.”
“Noted,” Simon deadpanned. “But it’s not usually oatmeal, either, right?”
“There are no rules, really,” Grace said with a shrug. “I’d feel like a huge jerk eating popcorn while you’re still on a restricted diet. Besides, I like oatmeal.”
“Popcorn,” Simon muttered under his breath. The roar of an engine reached his ears and he realized he was supposed to be actually watching a movie. He turned his attention back to the screen.
Movement out of the corner of his eye alerted him to Rocky unfolding himself, stretching out his legs, carapace practically on Grace’s lap. He made a sound that was shockingly similar to the small grunts and groans Grace made when he stretched. Purely for effect, Simon realized. Rocky didn’t breathe the same way humans did.
Rocky’s wriggling nudged Grace to the side, closer to Simon, so there was no escape from the contact. Their shoulders were pressed together, Simon’s knee coming to rest against Grace’s.
Simon realized belatedly that he didn’t flinch, didn’t even tense. Maybe Grace just saw him as an ignorant stowaway, but he’d settled for oatmeal so Simon wouldn’t feel left out. That was… nice of him. Really nice. Way more than Simon deserved. That should have made him bristle, but instead, he felt his shoulders unclench ever so slightly. He stretched one leg out, rolling his ankle to work out the tension. And belatedly, he realized that at some point, somewhere in his mind, he’d stopped checking Grace’s features for sharp teeth or a cold stare.
There was some sort of climactic race scene, Simon guessed, from the urgency of the soundtrack. He found himself leaning forward, edges of the screen blurring. He could almost feel the wind in his hair as cars zoomed down the track. An elbow brushed his, and he realized Grace was leaning forward as well. Even Rocky, though he had to brace himself awkwardly on a couch built for humans.
When Speed crossed the finish line at last, Grace flopped back in his seat, sighing in relief. Simon leaned back as well, realizing his head had come to rest on Grace’s shoulder. Realizing he didn’t mind.
Realizing he was maybe, possibly smiling.
He felt Grace’s head turn, then… a convulsion.
He sat up to see Grace angrily swiping at his face, glasses on his lap, ears bright red. He looked up, and a stray tear slipped down his cheek, catching the blue glow of the TV. He seemed unable to bring himself to look at Simon, though he kept glancing his way. “Sorry. Just… really good movie.”
Rocky pressed closer to Grace, but that just made him sob harder.
Simon blinked into awareness to find his hand hovering over Grace’s shoulder, just shy of touching it.
“Grace?”
Grace shook his head slowly. “Like I said-”
“The movie wasn’t that good.” Simon softened his voice to a near-whisper.
Grace buried his face in his hands, hunched in on himself like he wanted to disappear. “No,” he said, trying for a laugh. “It wasn’t.” He sniffed hard. “It’s fine. Stupid, really.”
“You yell at me all the time for saying things are ‘fine,’” Simon noted. Weary of awkwardly hovering his hand, he let it come to rest on Grace’s shoulder. He felt the muscles tense, then Grace sat up abruptly, steeling himself before dragging his gaze back to Simon.
“It’s just… look, Rocky is my best friend. I’d die for him. I almost did. Lots of times. But… no offense… he’s not human.”
Rocky patted Grace’s knee. “No offense taken. Statement.”
Grace’s laugh was a raspy, delicate thing. “I’ve mostly made peace with… all that’s happened, but… it’s been years. Hard years, for Earth. What would I be going back to? So I just… focused on Erid. And I guess… I forgot how much I missed things.”
Something sharp twisted inside Simon’s chest. He squeezed Grace’s shoulder, feeling the muscle tremble before relaxing. “I know,” he whispered, unable to say anything else. “I know.”
Rocky pressed closer, pushing Grace against Simon, and wrapped his arms around Grace’s waist.
Simon pulled Grace into his side. He felt Grace’s arm travel slowly across his lower back. He tensed, and the hand stopped, waiting for the tension to ease before finally pulling him into a light embrace.
Warmth seeped into his skin, spreading farther where Grace’s arm touched scales. This new sensation pricked at his attention, but Grace had gone from sobbing to ragged, desperate breathing. He swayed as if caught in an ocean current.
Simon leaned toward him, guiding Grace’s head back onto his shoulder. Something in Simon’s chest shifted, like a joint slipping back into place. Not without a lingering, tender ache, but each breath came just a bit easier.