Chapter Text
Just when Grace thought that Prism might’ve fallen asleep, it was confirmed by Rocky, Adrian and Doctor Moth reentering the room.
“We heard everything,” Rocky informed him, walking over to sit between Grace and Prism, Adrian following to stand next to him.
Grace ran a shaky hand over his face, wiping away some of the last remaining half-dried tears. He looked over at Moth.
“We have to report this,” he said. “This is outright emotional abuse and neglect.” He shuddered. “God, I should’ve known, I should’ve paid better attention, I-”
“If anyone should have known, it’s me,” Adrian cut in. Grace and Rocky both cocked their head and carapace in confusion. Moth paused in checking Prism’s vitals.
“How?” Rocky asked.
“After the ship left,” Adrian began, “us family members and friends of the crew had regular meetings. In the beginning, Vantablack attended and talked about their feelings just like everyone else did. I remember them being on the more pessimistic side, but we all did our best to keep them believing in the mission. Then they stayed away for a while because their and Moonbow’s eggs were hatching, and returned one day with a young Prism. They seemed…different. They attended less frequently, often without Prism, until they stopped coming altogether.”
Adrian lowered themself to the ground too, shifting uncomfortably. Rocky placed a gentle hand on their arm.
“We should’ve investigated,” Adrian continued. “We knew how Vantablack thought about the mission, we should’ve checked up on them, made sure everything was fine at home. But we let them go. I hadn’t even realised Prism was that frail little pebble Vantablack had brought along those few times until they said it just now.”
“You couldn’t have known,” Rocky said. “Just like Grace couldn’t have known.”
“Just like you’re not to blame for Moonbow,” Grace felt the need to add. Rocky stayed silent.
“I agree with Grace,” Moth said after a beat of silence. “As licensed caregivers, we are obligated to report this.”
“They’ll be put into temporary communal custody until a social worker can come assess their situation, right?” Grace asked, already knowing the answer. The school had a communal nest for kids whose parents were on business trips or otherwise indisposed, and to take in pebbles in cases of abuse reports. Grace knew for a fact that one of the kids that used to bully them and had now thankfully backed off spent a lot of their time being looked after by the school guardians. Everything might be fine for Prism, but it could also turn ugly real quick. With Prism injured, he wasn’t sure if this was the best option.
“I could also claim that extended monitoring is medically necessary and let them stay here while their situation is being resolved,” Moth supplied as if reading his mind.
Grace held there breath, looking over at where Prism was resting. Their carapace reflected the artificial dusk light of the dome, shimmering in all colours of the rainbow. Except for the large patch of sealant and brown strip of bandage wrapped around them to keep their wound closed.
A surge of protectiveness came over Grace.
He know it wasn’t in his place, but if it he had his way, he would stay by Prism’s side for as long as it took, never letting their sorry excuse for a parent near them again.
Prism had apologised for being hurt. They had basically apologised for being born.
Grace always tried his best not to consider any students as his favourites, and when he couldn’t help it, he made absolutely sure never to show it. But Prism…the kid was so sweet and bubbly and energetic. They had positively blossomed since a) getting to sit in the front and b) starting their internship with him. He was so darn proud of any of his students, his kids, when they overcome whatever was holding them back. On more than one occasion, he had had to remind himself that even though they were his kids, they weren’t actually his.
Especially with Prism. Which just got exponentially harder after learning that the one who got to claim Prism as theirs should have lost that right a long time ago.
Grace shook out his hand with a nervous flutter.
“I think that might be best for Prism given their current state,” Grace eventually said.
“Good,” Moth said. “I’ll ask Sonic to officially take over sleep-watching and general monitoring while I report the incident to the school. A social worker should come within one to two cycles. I recommend you staying with them until they wake, Grace.”
“I’m not leaving,” he stated, crossing his arms and making himself comfortable in his chair.
“Me neither,” Rocky followed up.
“I’ll fetch you dinner and a blanket,” Adrian said to Grace, tapping the barrier twice before following Moth out of the room.
“Thanks,” he called after them before slumping against the xenonite with a heavy sigh.
“I know it’s not our fault,” Rocky started quietly, hand on the edge of Prism’s nest, “but it feels like it is.”
“I know,” Grace mumbled. The silence stretched on between them until Sonic entered, greeting them before assuming their position on the other side of Prism’s medical nest.
It wasn’t anyone’s fault except Vantablack’s. Adrian couldn’t have followed up on everyone in the support group. Rocky couldn’t have known about the radiation. Grace couldn’t have seen the signs Prism was probably so used to hiding. Vantablack could have dealt with their grief in any other way than projecting it onto their child.
Still. They were all involved, so they at the very least had the responsibility to make sure it stopped right here and now.
It’s my fault, I wasn’t born right!
What bracelet?
Please, stop, my mom isn’t- they’re not-
“I remember when you showed me Moonbow’s bracelet,” Grace said after a while, trying to get the horrible things Prism had said about themself and their parent to stop echoing around his brain. Rocky hummed in acknowledgment. “We need to make sure Prism receives it.”
“Absolutely,” Rocky said, the anger in his voice poorly hidden. Grace’s lips twitched up in a brief smile.
Prism was going to be fine. They had to be. Grace wouldn’t know what to do with himself if Prism wasn’t going to end up happy and healthy.
How could anyone treat their kid like this? He knew it happened, had witnessed too many kids back on Earth being overly shy, excessively flinching and apologising, or aggressive, unable to let out their pain except onto others because they hadn’t learned it any other way, some covered in one too many bruises for it just being roughhousing. He referred them to the school psychologist, and so often nothing happened. Because maybe there was an innocent explanation, but maybe because of a lack of evidence or parents talking smoothly or playing the victim themselves. He knew it happened, understood how and why it happened, but he didn’t understand it.
Maybe Vantablack didn’t mean to put Prism down. Maybe they truly loved their child and were just so caught up in their cloud of grief. Maybe they simply didn’t care. Maybe they hated their child for being a reminder of their dead partner.
It didn’t matter. Nothing excused treating your child like a burden.
After a while Adrian came up to him in their suit, carrying a meburger and his patchwork quilt. They sat down next to him, assuring him that if he were to fall asleep, they would stay in the dome with him to keep better watch.
A few hours later, Grace did end up dozing off against the wall despite his best efforts to stay awake for Prism’s sake. He was woken by Adrian as soon as Prism began to stir sometime mid morning, Moth having taken over monitoring duties again and a social worker waiting patiently in the corner. His classes that morning had already been cancelled, courtesy of Adrian and Rocky, and Prism was naturally excused for the entire rest of the week.
It took some coaxing and reassuring that Prism hadn’t done anything wrong, that the nice social worker just wanted to check how they were doing, for Prism to agree to follow them to the closest soundproof therapy room, which was his own specially constructed one down the hall, attached to the dome and split down the middle with his atmosphere on one side such that Grace could easily access it.
After they went, Moth caught him up on how the confrontation with Vantablack had gone down at the school. They’d tried not to raise suspicion at first, simply claiming that extended monitoring was necessary, but when they had kept pushing, one of the school’s communal nest guardians had let it slip that Vantablack wasn’t welcome at the moment, and they had no choice but to reveal the suspicion of abuse report. They hadn’t taken it well, demanding to see their child, but after some pushback they had drawn into themself and left. At least the altercation hadn’t ended in violence. Grace didn’t know much about Vantablack as a person, but he sincerely hoped that this was a sign that they generally did not resort to being physical.
When Prism and the social worker still hadn’t emerged from the therapy room by the time lunch rolled around, Grace conceded to go grab some food and hold his humanities class.
He’d started to feel the difference between his Tuesday versus his Wednesday and Thursday humanities classes a few weeks into the semester already. Having Prism there to help him brought a certain life to the lessons. Today, he felt their absence tenfold, even though it was a Wednesday. He’d been so out of it that his students had asked him twice if he was alright after zoning out one too many times. He wrapped up the class early, hurrying back to his sitting area next to the airlock as fast as he could.
Adrian had gone inside at this point, having joined Rocky in his workshop next to the med bay. Moth was tidying up. Still no Prism.
Grace plopped into the chair across from the workshop, resting his cane against the wall and anxious wringing his hands together.
“They’re not done yet,” Rocky said before Grace could ask.
“Should we go check? See if everything is alright?”
“Moth already did,” said Adrian, “Social Worker ♪♬ said that they were making good progress, and Prism said they were fine and that ♪♬ was nice.”
“Good,” Grace said, releasing a breath. “That’s good.”
Almost another hour was spent in relative silence, Rocky working on some small project or other, Adrian answering work calls on their radio messenger and Grace fiddling with the hem of his cardigan so much he was probably going to have to sew it up later if he didn’t want it to unravel much further, until Prism and ♪♬, who Grace had decided to call Tony due to the red and gold colouring of their carapace, finally returned to the med bay.
They all hurried into the room, Grace moving a few chairs over to sit outside the med bay’s clear xenonite panel.
“I’ve had a very productive conversation with Prism,” Tony announced, giving the pebble a short pat. To Grace’s relief, Prism didn’t seem too distressed after what must’ve been an emotionally exhausting talk, especially for a kid. Their carapace wasn’t hanging too low, and they actually seemed a bit bouncy. “They did a great job explaining their situation.”
Grace made a double thumbs up, and Prism trilled gleefully.
“I’d like to ask Saviour Grace to join Prism and I for a further discussion.”
Grace blinked.
“Yeah,” he said after a beat. “Yeah, of course, whatever I can do to help.”
Tony remained silent, tilting their carapace slightly.
“Translator, Grace,” Rocky reminded him, and with a slap to the forehead, he turned on the device on his wrist and repeated himself.
“Wonderful,” Tony said warmly, before leading Prism back out the room and motioning for him to follow on his side of the wall.
A few minutes later, he was seated in his usual chair when he spoke to Orca in his weekly sessions, but this time with both Tony and Prism sitting on the ammonia side of the room instead. He shot Prism an encouraging smile before Tony began to talk, arms neatly folded in front of them.
“First off I would like to say that I have gathered enough statements from Prism that a court case will almost certainly result in the complete revocation of Vantablack’s custody rights,” Tony said. Grace took a second to absorb before nodding silently.
On one hand it was great, knowing there would likely be little fuss to get Prism away from Vantablack. On the other, it meant that Prism must’ve listed dozens upon dozens of instances of abuse, the fact that they were able to do so at all making Grace’s stomach churn.
“A comprehensive case will still need to be put together, including secondary opinions and, if possible, a screening of Vantablack as well,” they continued. “But before we proceed, I need to address the matter of Prism’s guardianship.”
Grace nodded again. Please, don’t suggest communal living at school. Please.
“Based on a discussion I had with Saviour Rocky and their mate when you and Prism were asleep,” they said, “as well as what Prism has expressed to me, I would like to bring up the topic of adoption.”
Grace’s eyes widened. They- were they suggesting what he thought they were suggesting?
Prism squirmed in their seat, looked terribly excited and terribly anxious at the same time.
“This proposal is only to be accepted if you have both the desire and the mental and physical capacity to adopt. The latter will be assessed separately, only if your desire to adopt is expressed.”
“I-” Grace said, but his voice cracked. He looked at Prism, who was fidgeting and, if he wasn’t mistaken, at this point even trembling a bit. “Prism, you want me to adopt you?”
After a few beats of silence, Prism managed the tiniest “Yes.”
“I-” Grace tried again, tears welling up because holy moly, his kid could actually truly become his kid.
His mind instantly screamed about how their atmospheres were incompatible and he would never be able to properly hold them and he was just a teacher, always just the teacher, never actually important enough in any of his kid’s lives because they weren’t blood. He was never allowed to have this.
But then he saw Prism, arms pulled close against their body as the minute trembles increased, any excitement they might have felt now fully replaced with anxiety, and his heart clenched so hard he almost felt sick with the desire to scoop them up and shower them with reassurances and never let them go.
“Yes,” he choked out, uselessly wiping at the waterfall that was his eyes now. “Yes yes yes, I accept. If you really want this, then yes.”
It seemed like Tony wanted to say something, but they were interrupted by Prism releasing an unholy shriek and catapulting themself against the divider.
“Careful, careful!” Grace exclaimed as he scrambled out of his chair to press up against the xenonite as well.
“Thank thank thank thank thank,” Prism blabbered, notes high and wobbly and shrill, “I want want want, I want it so much. You’re sure you also want?”
“I do,” Grace said, awkwardly clawing at the barrier between them. “I want want want it too. I never- I never thought I could have kids. And then you came along and I- Prism, it’s been so hard to pretend that you weren’t my favourite these past months.”
“I’m your favourite?” they asked, voice still high and trembling and so hopeful his chest constricted to the point he was sure something was going to burst.
“You are,” he confirmed, not bothering to wipe away the tears dripping onto his hands. “I tried to tell myself you weren’t, but you are. You’re my kid.”
Prism let out a string of noises that might’ve been words, or just a general expression of Intense Emotions.
“I love you,” Grace said earnestly, pressing his hand as flat against the barrier as he could. Prism pressed their little hand right back in the same spot.
“I love love love Mom Grace.”
“Alright,” Tony cut in with a trill of fond laughter before Grace could continue further declarations of love for his kid.
His kid, his kid, his kid.
“This has been proof enough for me that Prism would be in excellent hands with you,” they said. “But the process will take a while to complete. I’m confident it will end with your desired outcome, but secondary parties can always complicate the matter.”
“Understood,” Grace said, not getting up from his position on the floor beside Prism yet.
“Modifications will need to be made to your home to allow Prism to safely move in, and you will need to go through a thorough assessment of your mental and physical health as well as complete the basic trauma management course as required for all adoptive parents in abuse cases.”
“Absolutely.”
“Then, barring any potential hindrances, I suppose congratulation are in order,” Tony chimed, and both Prism and Grace replied with semi hysterical expressions of gratitude.
“Are we finished, Social Worker Tony?” Prism asked, leaning away from the wall a bit.
“We are,” they said, getting up.
“I’ll go wear my suit!” they exclaimed, jumping up and pretty much running for the door. Grace knew it was not very dignified as the adult in the situation, but he too jumped up and ran out as fast as he could with his cane, without thanking Tony or bidding them a proper goodbye.
By the time he made it back to the airlock, Prism was already squeezing into their suit, Rocky having come over to help so they wouldn’t aggravate their wound. Grace could tell he was anxious to ask what had happened, but he was going to have to wait just a few minutes until Grace could hug his kid, neither he nor Prism capable of producing anything coherent right now.
When the airlock hissed open on his side, Grace, already having sat down on the ground, opened his arms to catch Prism as they barrelled right into him. He wrapped his arms around the flexible xenonite, squeezing as tightly as he could.
“Love love love you,” Prism chittered. “Love hearing your heartbeat. I want to hear it every day.”
Grace gasped, pressing Prism against his chest. Their hands grasped at his sleeves, as if trying to pull themself even closer.
“You will,” Grace promised, sniffling. “You can watch me sleep every night.”
“Thank thank thank,” Prism rambled, continuing to say the word over and over so quietly Grace wouldn’t have caught it if they weren’t currently smushed against him.
The two of them remained sitting in their hug for quite a while before the airlock chimed again, Rocky and Adrian both stepping through in their respective suits. Grace looked up to see Tony speaking to Moth on the other side, only catching bits and pieces of a conversation about further steps to be undertaken.
“I take it there is good news?” Rocky asked lightly, he and Adrian both sitting down next to them.
“If everything goes well,” he said, unable to keep the wide smile off his face, “I’m going to be Prism’s mom.”
Perfectly in sync, Rocky and Adrian made enthusiastic jazz-hands, which Prism instinctively copied, and Grace followed suit, laughing.
“That’s wonderful!” Adrian said, nudging Rocky.
“Yes yes, absolutely wonderful,” he said with poorly hidden mirth. Grace rolled his eyes.
“I knew you talked to the social worker when we were sleeping,” Grace said, shaking his head fondly. “You two can stop pretending you weren’t singing my praises.”
“We noticed how much you care about Prism,” Rocky said simply. “We wanted them to be aware of that.”
“You monologued for Iℓℓℓ seconds about how Grace rushed them to the med bay and was the first to question their safety at home and how great the two got along and how separating them would not do anyone any good,” said Adrian smugly. Rocky elbowed their arm, about to retort but Prism beat them to it.
“Thank thank thank, Rocky!” they chirped, wiggling out of Grace’s hold and skittering over to Rocky, repeatedly tapping their arm. “Thank for helping!”
“Of course,” Rocky said, putting a hand on the top of their suit. Gratitude extended, Prism dashed back into Grace’s lap. He caught them with a laugh, snuggling them close.
His kid. Prism would be his. He could spend every day with this incredible pebble, making them laugh, watching them sleep, watching them grow.
You’ll die before they reach adulthood. You’re not meant to have this. You can never have this.
He shook his head, holding Prism tighter, focusing on a different issue that had been floating around the back of his mind the past hour or so since the proposal.
“I have to ask, Prism,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to answer right now if it’s too much, but yesterday, you were having such a hard time seeing that Vantablack wasn’t treating you right. What changed?”
Prism quieted their affectionate little hums, stilling to the point of only slowly messing with a loose thread on his cardigan.
“I always knew,” they whispered. “I just didn’t want to know. You being so nice made it harder to ignore. Social Worker Tony said that yesterday was just the final stone that broke the bridge.”
Grace hummed in understanding, running a hand over the side of Prism’s suit.
“I-” Prism said, hesitating. “I still want to see Mom Vanta. Sometimes. If- if that’s okay.”
“Prism, of course that’s okay,” Grace said. “They’ve been your mom your entire life, and if you still want them to be, they can keep being your mom. Just know that it probably won’t be allowed right away. They might need to see a therapist first, and even then another adult will probably have to be with you if you want to meet again. But we can let Social Worker Tony know that you want this.”
“I already asked,” Prism said, “they said the same thing. Thank for agreeing.”
“It’s not up to me,” Grace said. “You decide who you want to have in your life. I’m not here to replace your Mom Vanta, or your Mom Moon. We can all three be your moms if that’s what you want.”
“Yes, I want,” Prism chirped, burrowing closer against him. “I want to live with Mom Grace and visit Mom Vanta when they’re not sad and hear many stories about Mom Moon from Rocky. Please?” The last word was a shy plea.
“I’ll tell you every story you want to hear,” Rocky said, scooting in closer to put a hand on Prism’s suit. The pebble let out an overjoyed whistle, and soon Grace was hugging not just his kid but also his best friend, with Adrian coming over to envelope the three of them with their long arms.
Since the accident, which had only happened yesterday but felt like it had been ages ago, and throughout the mess it had started, Grace had been trying to keep himself together for Prism’s sake. Now that the dust had settled and it really truly hit him what had just occurred, the tears began to flow once more until not even a minute later he was outright sobbing.
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he quickly assured Prism between heaving breaths, thankful for Rocky’s hand rubbing his back. “I just can’t believe…”
“I also can’t believe,” Prism mumbled, “I still feel a little like I’m pretending.”
“It’s real,” Grace affirmed, hiccuping. “This is real. I’m going to be your mom.”
“Can confirm, this is real,” Rocky added, making both Grace and Prism burst into shaky giggles.
Then one of Prism’s hands found his, their encased fingers grabbing onto his thumb. Grace closed his fist, squeezing back.
This is real.
He’s already had a family in Rocky and Adrian these past years, but being the most important adult in a kid’s life, being their parent…he never thought he was able to have that, not since Linda and the realisation about himself that had followed.
“I love you,” he whispered, meaning it more than anything he had ever meant in his life.
“I love you too, Mom,” his kid whispered back.