Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

A week passed since Simon had to interfere with Grace. The recovery was easy enough with him bedbound- heck, the only thing that was difficult to deal with was the eridians getting concerned about him.

When he was back at his routine, the warm sun was a delight on his skin, especially as he walked along the shoreline. He had maybe one minute of peace. (Two if he was lucky?) Until Rocky came bouncing along the sand, eagerly rolling around Grace. "Grace alive! Alive Grace, Grace has life, statement!"

"Yes, I've recovered." He stopped Rocky from rolling around, just to aggressively rub his suit like giving head scratches to a scrappy, well-loved dog. "C'mon, you know I was fine."

"World say Grace die."

His hand paused, his face flat. "Who said that?!"

"Entire world! Sky less luminous, so Grace less alive."

"No, buddy, that's…" He sighed and pinched the middle of his nosebridge, "That's just a thing in movies to set the atmosphere-"

"Grace wrong. Many example." Rocky stomped, his limb making a small hole into the void-like sand.

The scientist decided to forfeit as he kept walking. "Okay, Rockster."

But within every step he took, Rocky was actively rolling in front of him, forcing Grace to dodge and weave the incoming eridian. He scoffed. "I'm fine."

There was a chirpy trill that was untranslated, which Grace decided to take it as a general grumble. "Okay, I get it. Your brain will keep looping until it settles out-"

"Rocky brain does not have loop mistake like human Grace. Grace forget, question?"

"No, I didn't forget-"

"Grace forget and feel embarassment. Rocky apologize."

"No!" Grace grabbed Rocky's suit, trying to put himself in Rocky's shoes (or xenonite ball). He took a breath before he looked at the eridian. "I know I usually have some personal space, but… would you like to stay over? You could bring Adr-"

Rocky practically vibrated. "Rocky rest at Grace home, in Grace bed!"

"One time." He let go.

"Rocky will have best rest in Grace bed, statement!" He rolled around in the sand, wiggling on his limbs. "Grace bring Simon too, question? Simon also miss Grace."

He blinked. There might've been a mistranslation in that latter sentence. "I'll let him know, but it's okay if he prefers the peace and quiet." Since he often got a vibe that their roughhousing and dramatic arguments were a bit too much for the more reserved man. He patted Rocky. "Now go tell Adrian. You can come over a bit before sundown, yeah?"

It took a lot more pestering to actually make Rocky leave him be. Yes, he could've asked Simon while Rocky was there, but sometimes the little eridian would get too excited and uh… start threatening Simon's life?

Grace would wave his hands and assure Simon that Rocky means it in a friendly way- like cuteness aggression!

(Simon squinted at Rocky, then Grace. "You're saying he thinks I'm cute?")

(Rocky stomped. "Grace words, not Rocky.")

(Grace's face burned with a hint of red. "I didn't say that- well, I also didn't not say that. I don't have any particular feelings on your appearance! I'm neutral (ahaha, in the best way) about how you look, or your body, or your hair-")

Safe to say, he would prefer not to repeat that. He gently knocked on Simon's door. Waiting, waiting- yep, no answer. He shifted his weight to leave-

The door opened, revealing how Simon's hair was messily cast over his shoulders, some tiredness still in his eyes.

Grace's back stiffened. "Oh, hey! Uh, so I was having a sleepover at my house-" Shoot, he should've practiced this conversation! He tried to smile, but it probably came off as a grimace. "First of all, hi and good morning, haha…"

Simon waited.

"Anyway- Rocky wanted some company, so I'll be having him and Adrian over at my place for the night. And I figured… you might want to join?" He tensed and eagerly corrected himself, "I planned for it to be at my place, and I assure you Armando has gone through his disinfection routine twice now, so there's not any more germs lying around! Or if you'd prefer, we could do it at your house instead but-"

"No," Simon said, his eyes a bit hard. Selfishly defensive, the convict thought to himself. "I can go over there."

"Alright, I'll," He repeatedly punctuated with finger guns, "See you then." He walked back, hoping his face showed some swagger instead of uncool dorkiness.

The ongoing quest to be rugged had questionable progress as Simon closed the door and mumbled something that Grace didn't care to eavesdrop on. (Well he was incredibly nosey, but walking away was a small price to pay for mutual respect!)

While Grace only had one bed, he was sure there wasn't going to be any homoerotic tension, given how Rocky already wanted to claim it. Though even as he adjusted the sheets, his fingers ended up getting caught on the edge of the blanket. That's where Simon once laid. Only one time, of course, but a faint heat was drawn onto his cheeks from how the man held him close, his warm body pressed up against Grace's back, consuming him entirely as a silent vow of protection.

Grace let out a breath and took two pillows off the bed. He was touch-starved; he knew that before he was even sent into space, but he needed to stop blue screening every time he thought about that moment.

He settled some of his larger pillows on the ground to make a makeshift material to sleep on and then tossed a pillow and blanket on top. Then times two and boom! He and Simon, sleeping on the ground six feet apart, that was a reasonable amount of distance, right? (His room couldn't make them further apart, so he settled on that.)

Grace realized his mistake quite early on.

Grace's definition of a sleepover:

• Hanging out

• Binge-watching movies or playing some party games

• Uhhh. Okay he didn't actually have any sleepovers as a kid. So maybe spin the bottle? Truth or dare?

Whatever, it didn't matter! Because Rocky had instantly climbed into his bed, Adrian folding around him and they were asleep. Dead asleep, even as Grace shook the bed. He threw his arms in the air. "C'mon! A sleepover doesn't mean-" He blamed it on muscle atrophy of why he couldn't even jostle them a little bit, allowing them to sink on the bed as a combined mass.

Then there was a hesitant knock on the door.

So Grace immediately stopped trying to wake them in order to sprint to the entrance, parkouring over a couch and a chair (just to trip over a box that should have been in the kitchen), and slamming the front door open. "Oh hey, Simon, hi!"

He just. Said two greetings. And he was a little breathless from how quickly he was trying to get there (in which tripping added enough time that it, unfortunately, cancelled out). He ignored his awkwardness by stepping out of the way of the entrance and grinning. "Come on in!"

Simon stared at him for a moment before stepping inside the home, his dark eyes skimming over the rushed-to-be-tidy interior.

There was barely an opportunity for Simon to speak before the door was closed and Grace led the way. "Sooo, small miscalculation. Rocky and Adrian thought a sleepover just meant-" He gestured to the rock pile on his bed, a light scoff coming out of him as he deadpanned, "Sleeping."

The man held his usual distance. "What… is it supposed to be?"

Grace's face fell. Ah.

He sort of knew that Simon was from a different world, but the guy always got defensive after a few sentences so Grace easily nipped his curiosity in order to make life easier. But along the way he just sort of assumed sleepovers were a universal thing?

"Nothing," he eventually said. "It can be just sleeping this time, but next time, we'll do more fun stuff." Before he could let his disappointment settle out, he suddenly perked up. "I've got snacks! You've got to try them-" He raced around the corner, his socks sliding on the wooden floor as he grabbed the tray.

Luckily, Simon followed him and didn't make him run with the high chance of the snacks falling all over the ground. "It's uh-" He tilted his head, "I'm not entirely sure what it is since I changed the recipe a few times, but it's sort of like a mini quiche? However, I personally call it Le quichErid," he recited in a horrific French accent before pursing his lips and bashfully admitting, "Since we don't have any of the real stuff that typically goes into an actual quiche."

Simon slowly grabbed one, as if testing the waters of whether it was going to kill him. He glanced at the beige thing. "It's a food, right?"

"Yes!" As evidence, he plucked one off the tray and popped it into his mouth. It was dry, but it vaguely tasted like cheese and sausage! (Actually, they were also stale since they had been sitting out for a few hours. But that wasn't obvious, right?)

If Simon was impressed or disappointed, he didn't show it through a shift in his eyes or at the pace he ate, but Grace took it as a win when the man ended up grabbing another one.

The hues outside the closed windows eventually shifted from calm grays to a mix of ink and storm drain water. Grace felt a yawn tear through his jaw as he stretched his arms above his head, "I don't know about you, but I'm getting tired."

Simon nodded, but his eyes seemed farther away as he asked, "It's still fine if I sleep here?"

"Yeah, of course!" He gestured the man to enter the bedroom. "As long as you don't mind the possibility of Rocky waking you up in the morning."

Simon flatly hummed and sat on the ground, next to the mismatched pillows and blankets.

When Grace settled down, he tilted his head. "Oh, you can sleep on there if you want." He pointed at the intended rest site. "Unless there's an issue? I might have some more cushions- even the couch is pretty comfy."

"No, it's fine."

Grace felt more lost than ever when trying to decipher that expression on the man's face. But he was tired, the lack of energy already pulling on his frame as he laid down in his own cocoon of softness. A mystery for another day, he supposed.

"Night, Simon," he mentioned. "Wake me if you need anything." He took off his smudged glasses and put them on the side table with a quiet clattering as they hit the wood. He curled up into a ball and his mind drifted, flicking through previous events of the day as his body loosened on itself.

Grace was back on Hail Mary. The sterile air was as comforting as the ominous creaking that sometimes came from his ship. Shifting and rotating like the spacecraft was going to fall apart at any moment.

Wait, why was he even back there? They were on Erid-

"We need more astrophage," Simon answered from his side. Just as Grace opened his mouth, the man already shook his head, "There was a solar flare in the upper regions of the atmosphere. Ninety percent of the reserves were used as damage control. If we don't get more, then-" He made a dramatic shrug as a reference to the utter catastrophe that would ensue.

"Okay," the scientist uttered, still struggling to wrap his mind around it all. "But we could've bred more of it?"

"It won't be quick enough." His face was grim, shadowed as he turned away. "You navigate, I'm suiting up."

A pinch of dread trickled in his system as he stepped forward and caught Simon's arm. "Are you sure? I can be the one to go out there, the equipment was probably made for me in the first place-"

Already dismissive, "Ryland-"

"And I've navigated before!" His breath caught in his throat, "I mean, not to be ableist, but two arms would certainly be the advantage out there-"

"Ry-"

"And what if something happens! You're better at the quick thinking so-"

"Ryland."

Grace sighed, tension deep within his furrowed brows. "Yeah?"

"It'll be fine," the word was lengthened on his tongue, as if it was so obvious that the biochemist shouldn't overthink, that the man was clearly driving himself into ruin instead of every logical reason not to proceed. Simon easily unhooked his arm from the teacher's grasp, just to give him a pat on the shoulder. "In and out, I trust you."

But Grace didn't trust himself. He didn't have a chance to express his doubt to those obsidian eyes as Simon glanced at the navigation system. "It's almost time."

"I-"

"I'm counting on you, Ryland," deeply and sincerely, because who else would be responsible? The man already moved away, the warm touch leaving only coldness in its wake.

Grace ran a hand through his disheveled hair, adjusting his glasses as the words caught in his throat, "Simon-"

He was gone. The latch shut behind him, and he was floating into deep space, tethered to the ship with a long, rubber hose. The scientist's inner arms prickled with apprehension, but he pushed his nausea aside as he ran to the control panel.

Ah crap- the modules were renovated in some kind of way, possessing new controls and capabilities that were too complex for a man of his level. He wasn't supposed to be sent out there; he wasn't ready for that type of thing, he was just a damn middle school teacher! His breath caught in his throat as he scanned for instructions, finding some that were hastily written by his past self but they were all illegible.

He tried to re-figure out navigation, but as his hands touched the controls, the acceleration was just wrong. The movements were jerky and delayed, some turns going the complete opposite direction.

There was a heavy thud as Simon collided with the side of the ship. The intercom crackled, "Ryland, get your shit together."

"I'm sorry, It's uh-" he hastily stated, unsure where the microphone even was. "It's a new system, there's-" A knob for NMR field drift, a color indicator of SNR, a button for simultaneous acquisition of a frequency reference- "Spectroscopy?" He internally whined, "I'm more familiar with IR and Mass Spec, but that was just reading the data-"

Simon sighed on the speaker, a heavy sound that grated his ears. "Alright, I'll come back in-" He muttered under his breath, "Since those nine years were wasted."

"No, my doctorate is still-" he stammered for a moment, a myriad of adjectives flying at him, "Valuable! I just don't know how to operate this- I'm not an astronaut."

"Whatever, just open the latch."

A mix of sadness and anger coursed through Grace's veins, but he forced himself to look at the control panel again. Latch, latch, latch- Air lock? No, he couldn't find that one either.

Another bit of static was heard in his ears. "Orange button."

There was green, maroon, too many shades of blue-

"Ryland," a heavy thud was heard on the door. "Let me inside."

"I'm trying."

"Try harder," Simon bitterly remarked.

Grace rubbed the side of his face. "Can you, like, be a little more helpful?"

Another sigh. "It's right by the-"

Cold silence.

Grace waited, a few beats passing before he dared to ask, "By the what?" There was a distant hiss right outside the airlock. Lights flashed red in the cabin. "Simon?"

"I can't talk, I'm-" He spoke uncomfortably, choking out, "Oxygen-"

No nonono- how could the oxygen line break, it wasn't supposed to do that! His eyes scrambled on the knobs, NMR field drift, a color indicator for SNR- Wait no, he already saw those- nothing was orange, there was a mustardy yellow, there were so many grays and whites, the lights were flashing over the entire panel, coating his vision with red as the alarm sirens blared.

"Ry-"

"Stop wasting air!" His voice was stronger than it had ever been before, his eyes darting around before he finally found the orange button!

He pressed it.

Without hesitation.

He thought it was orange, but the yellow plastic had been added with the red distress lights to lead him astray. Grace tensed and looked out the window, seeing Simon floating in free space, the tether fully disconnected.

Simon raced to the second suit and equipped it. The material was heavy on his weakened body, feeling like quicksand as he dragged it over his limbs. He spoke into the suit's microphone, staring out the window, "Breathe slowly, I'll be-"

An asteroid collided with Simon, the force shoving the man against the window and breaking the reinforced glass hull. While Grace could've worried about their only way back to Erid, or the pressure change exploding some of the pipes among the station, his eyes widened at Simon.

Simon was also wearing a suit. He should've been fine. Maybe a few broken bones, blood running down his temple, but he could fix that.

He couldn't exactly fix the crack that had spread across the man's helmet, and how their eyes connected for one unsure moment, just for the glass to shatter completely, leaving Grace to watch Simon instantly die.

A scream bubbled out of his throat, mostly darkness surrounding him. Was he going to die too? Was there any way for him to give his life to Simon? His heart hammered in his chest as his body jerked, naturally shielding himself from the overwhelming warmth of space- or maybe even his own blood escaping his body and into the suit.

Ryland.

A choked-up sob came out of his throat; he'd never get to hear Simon again. The man was gone, and it was his fault. He should've studied the manual, he was too stupid to be sent out on the expedition.

He didn't even realize he was covering his eyes until he felt a force trying to pry one of his hands away. No, he didn't want to see Simon. He couldn't let himself mourn what was already gone, he didn't deserve-

His left hand was pulled away, a strong grip around his wrist, and a solid mass, a knee, clumsily pinned down the other hand. Simon didn't waste any time before he commanded, "Ryland, breathe."

SimonSimonSimonSimon- he wetly managed to spew out some of the desperation, but it was all buried under his heavy sobs and trembling frame.

"You're fine, nothing is wrong."

"Y- You're-"

"Here? Yeah," he guessed, but despite his vagueness, his eyes were just as determined while he stared at Grace in the dim lighting. Simon didn't like the dark, so the teacher placed a few phosphorescent items around; it was all so the other man could experience a bit of comfort, but he never expected the dim, blue hue to actually help him ground himself.

A few more tears exited his face, but he breathed. In through his nose, and out through his mouth, vaguely recalling the enhanced release of nitric oxide, a vasodilator that would expand the blood vessels and allow the muscles to get more oxygen- Oxygen. His shaky eyes found Simon once again. "You're okay? You're safe?"

Oh.

It wasn't real.

That took him a stupid amount of time to realize. He practically dissolved into the ground as he confessed, "I'm sorry, I'll be fine now."

"Hey, calm down." Grace had to regulate his breathing again, his body still shaking with each intake of air. "You're not fine- you can't get rid of me that easily."

Simon glanced at how he was still pinning Grace down and decided to shift his leg off of the man's arm, leaving him to sit on the teacher's lap while still pinning his wrist to the hard, wooden floor.

Grace at least took the opportunity to wipe his tears, smearing his cheeks with them. Guilt still resided in the forefront of his mind as he croakily whispered, "I didn't mean to. I was t- trying-"

"What happened?"

Another shuddering sob took over his body. "The airlock. I- I couldn't find it, t- then you-"

"Slow down." Simon's voice was unyielding, forcing the man into a pocket of silence, only Grace's hitched breath filling the space between them. "Start from the beginning."

"Astrophage." His hand was shaking in front of him. He clutched it tightly, hoping it would minimize the tremors. "We r- ran out." He nodded, finding a bit of clarity even as his eyes didn't focus on anything in particular. "We needed more."

Simon hummed, an unreadable expression on his face as he released Grace and got off of him. He held a hand out to the scientist. "Let's go check then."

Grace's eyes widened, like the stony man was recommending a recreation of the vivid suicide mission. "But-"

"The astrophage is fine, Ryland," he sympathetically added. "Your…" He dismissively waved, "Eridians check it every day, right?"

He felt small, like a child being told there wasn't a monster hiding under the bed. He deflated, "I know, but-"

"We'll check it."

Grace stayed silent. His body was just as unmoving as his watered-down eyes.

Simon's hand was still held out for him. Maybe if the teacher sat there for long enough, then the man would just leave and go check it himself. And… for some reason, Grace hated the idea of Simon leaving him to the quietness of the night. He chalked it up to the nightmare and bit the inside of his cheek, grabbing the hand to help him up.

And of course, Simon was always stronger than he expected, leading to a slight wobble and collision with the man's chest as he stood.

The convict skimmed him, likely assessing that it was his usual clumsiness and not a cause of concern. Their hands disconnected, the coldness easily finding a place in Grace's palm. The teacher grabbed his glasses and was quick to follow the pace, staying by Simon's side. "We don't need to check-" But Simon was going out there barefoot and so was he.

The man glanced back at him, his face barely illuminated in the dark night. "Is your brain going to shut up if we don't?"

"…"

Simon shook his head and kept moving forward. So Grace did too. The only notable sound was their footsteps muffled by the ground, one after the other. It was only once they reached the holding facility that the scientist paused. "Wait, did I wake you up?"

"Mn?" Simon glanced out of the corner of his eye, just to say, "No, it's fine."

Grace cringed a bit. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine." The teacher earned a hardened look, which shot down the words still left on his tongue. Simon lightly exhaled as he walked inside the laboratory. "Lead the way, astrophage expert."

If he had any more energy, he would've bantered in some way, but his mind just felt devoid of anything witty, only a fog residing in its place. He walked through the room, a faintly chemical scent existing in the air. To most it could've seemed unideal, but to Grace, it was… Home. For some reason. In the back of his mind, he hoped Simon wasn't bothered by it- maybe he needed to ask the eridians to make a fume hood at some point, that would probably help.

Either way, while the desks and counter space were a mess of notebooks, containers, and measuring tools, the ground was relatively clear and allowed them easy access to the center where all of the astrophage was grown. Grace looked over the tanks, each with their color indicator.

He didn't even know he was holding his breath until he saw the green status and finally exhaled. "Okay, yeah… Cool."

Simon raised an eyebrow. "We good?"

"Yeah, we are," he said, quiet and calm. "Thanks." There was a beat until he finally let his eyes drift from the astrophage tanks and onto the white floor. "We can head back now."

"Are you actually going to get more sleep tonight?"

Grace's shoulders tensed- something he hoped wasn't obvious to the other man. "I- Well-" He looked around the lab. There was always something to work on, perhaps a result of his cycle of projects he was always starting and finishing.

Simon's jaw was clenched in his typically stubborn way, so Grace allowed his hands to glide on the lab counter, focusing on the black epoxy granite. "I don't know."

Grace fidgeted with a dent in the table. He didn't quite remember how it got there, but the eridians didn't work on the countertop so it must've been from him. He put his thumb in the shallow divot, gliding the pad of skin through the point of the fracture.

"Are you going to work?"

"Lesson plans are already done." He stared at how his thumb fit into the broken counter. It was solid, so there wasn't even much of a color change in the surface, perhaps a change that mimicked a charcoal gray versus a quite dark gray. He managed to recall, "I should probably cyclize my peptides, it takes about an hour." He half-shrugged, "There's preparing the reaction, waiting thirty minutes for it to oxidize, then washing out all the iodine."

"Hm." Simon glanced around. "Is there anywhere to sit?"

Grace rapidly blinked. "Oh sorry! Right, of course-" He went down the hallway, into his main work area and pushed a rolling stool over to Simon. A polite laugh bubbled out of his throat, "I'm just used to standing up, it's easier sometimes. Y'know?"

He took a step away, planning in the back of his mind to get his lab coat, but Simon tugged on his arm and spun him, sending him to fall right on his butt into the chair he brought out. "Hey-!"

"Stay," he said, but it wasn't like he questioned that Grace was going to do what he asked. He only walked a few paces away, scanning the area.

Grace adjusted his glasses as he tried to wrap his mind around it. Was Simon just trying to prove he could boss the scientist around, like some evolutionary benefit from being more assertive? Well sure, go ahead and push him- Grace always considered himself more of a beta than an alpha anyway! The only way he could pass a strength check was by rolling a nat 20, and luck never seemed to be on his side.

And in the midst of his thoughts, Simon brought over another chair and sat next to Grace. "Go on."

"Uh…" He looked around. "What?"

"Talk about the iod… died."

"Iodine?" He received a nod. "Oh! I use it to oxidize the cysteines, with their little thiol groups at the end to induce the cyclization with each other. But aside from the reaction, it's a halogen, that means it's within group 17 or 7A or whatever version you're using," he rolled his eyes. "But I like using it since you can set up the reaction and just leave it. Reflux setups are so annoying, just because I don't know the right temperature to set it at half the time? You'd think I'd get some intuition, but every instrument is different! Ugh, on one device it's a 3.5 to get water to boil and on another it's a- I don't know, a 5."

He took a quick breath and continued, Simon's diligent gaze settling onto him, "Reflux glassware is so complicated as well. Yes it's easy, but then you have to clean all the segments, and I'm always half-terrified it'll snap in half and…"

"The-" Grace yawned for the third time that minute. "The temperature matters too." He settled his head into his arms on the table, trying to keep his eyes open to look at Simon. "Because… it messes with the sterics I think? Something about the energy distribution gets wacky, and… then the atoms won't collide right…"

Sunlight filtered through the window, shining onto Grace's closed eyes. He sat in his hunched-over position, a small pile of drool exiting his mouth and going onto the lab counter.

Simon had left a while ago, resorting to his home to get some sleep as well. In his absence, there was a lab coat that was covering Grace, keeping the man warm enough to stay in his slumber.

When the scientist eventually woke up, he disorientedly squinted at the fabric. He… what? Oh. He must've been getting ready for work, but he was half-asleep and just ended up passing out again? Right, yeah. He leaned up, his back actively protesting as he stretched, a dinosaur-like sound escaping him.

Ugh. His eyes wanted to close. It was definitely Too Early o'clock.

But he sat a little straighter and looked around. "Simon?"

There wasn't a response.

He rubbed the side of his face. Maybe he needs to teach the eridians more chemistry so they can come up with a pathway to synthesize caffeine for him…

Regardless, he had to get out of the stool to properly put the lab coat on. So he did just that and poured the required milliliters of anisole and DCM, ejecting the autopipetter's tip into the trash without a second thought. Then he knelt and opened the cabinet, skimming before right at the front-

A container of iodine crystals. The jar was about the size of a soup can, except it was a bit shorter and wider, the outside being a tinted, dark glass that verged on the color brown while the lid was red and plastic, with grooves etched in its sides.

He expected iodine to be there; it wasn't revolutionary if it was standard organization. But his gloved hand traced the rim of the lid.

Why did it remind him of Simon?

…Perhaps it was the darkness of the man's eyes. He exhaled and continued with the procedure. 150 milligrams of the solid were put into a small glass container with anisole being injected soon after. Already, the crystals started to break apart the slightest amount, revealing a dark fluid that resembled the color of dried blood but still had the viscosity of something like wine. He swirled the iodine to dissolve further.

Maybe he could bring Simon into the lab one day, to show him something interesting-

Ha, what was he even thinking? He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and continued. He and his work were probably too boring for that man.