Chapter Text
The morning is soft.
It was a late night and they don’t say much at least because of the lack of higher brain function, but Grace has eventually noticed changes. That Simon stands closer now, looks more often at him (or more openly, not glancing anymore. yes, he’s noticed that. is it something about not liking to be perceived?), and it’s like he is more comfortable around him in general.
Grace himself felt more clear now, at least on where they stand relatively to this relationship. It feels wrong to call it just friendship, it’s closer to cohabitation. But not roommates. Uh, it’s something. Definitely not bad, but confusing. Uh, he’ll figure it out later.
He is also clearer on what he should and shouldn't do. First being not talking about uncomfortable topics while Simon is distressed. Obvious, he knows, but it wasn't so yesterday. Second is, Grace can try hugging him more. yeah. Selfish? Absolutely. Helpful to both of them? Potentially. He needs more data, only one way to get it.
But first maybe wake up fully.
“Ah! Son of a biscuit!” In his defence, the cupboard door was definitely higher a second ago. It moved lower specifically to hit him.
Simon barks a laugh from the stove. “Woah, watch your language!”
“Ugh, you can't blame me, I don't function well without brain boosters. And you give me none.”
“I don’t have ‘em. They taste like shit.”
“Oh, you don't want to start this. I’m gonna fight you on that.”
“Mhm. Try me.” Yeah, he’d lose. Maybe not even accidentally. Oh, shut up. It's all the lack of sleep's fault.
“I would if I had the energy. You’re killing me, you know that?”
“Goddamit, Ry, just wait for your food for five more minutes and sit your ass down. Or do you want to keep bumping into stuff?”
“Ugh, so now you refuse me my only entertainment — complaining? I never thought you could be so cruel.” He did “sit his ass down”, though. Simon was persuasive. And his brain was a mush to think on its own.
He really wasn't even this tired, it just refused to cooperate on this random morning, as it does occasionally — what was Grace supposed to do?
The answer is “listen to someone who still has their bearings”. And who now isn't above bossing him around. Whatever, he’s good with that. Simon was better at keeping him safe than he himself was. God, it’s too early for that thought. Please, have mercy.
…
Mercy comes in a form of a plate in front of him. The smell itself is good enough to make him want to exist again, and the taste is solidifying this.
“Simon, I’m sorry for all I just said. You’re a saviour.”
“Yeah, yeah. Eat your vegetables.”
He didn't miss the way Si smiled at him now. Grace is suddenly feeling very silly.
“No, I’m serious. You know, you say you don't want any payback, but just say what you want and I’ll do it. It’s not fair that I’m just using your hospitality.” He knows it’s a fidgety topic, so he does his best for it to sound lighthearted.
Simon seems to not take it seriously, as planned, still being in the bantering spirit. “Well if you’re so grateful you can actually do some work. There are always things that need to be done in the shop.”
“I mean, I work from home today, so… I doubt it's worse than the reports.” Now he is dead serious. It’s kinda funny to see Si slowly realise it.
“Grace, I’m kidding. You don't have to…”
“Yeah, I know. But I really mean it. It’s not difficult to help you there, and I would rather do this than fill those forms. C’mon, I know you hate them too.”
Simon is distrustful. He may have figured out that he’s been played.
“And, I’ve been waiting to meet Arya, and Mike mentioned I may see them today. And he said they were cool. Can you really say no to me meeting your kids?” Simon softens at this. Bingo.
Grace has a hypothesis based on anecdotal evidence that Simon likes when they interact. It is possible that he trusts Grace around them, considering he’s a teacher. But he’d like to think that it’s also more personal, like having a second caretaker nearby. No, he does not (yet?) consider David one.
Simon sighs. “Okay, you can sit around while we work–” he sees a protest form across him, “–or do light work. It’s gonna be dirty, so choose what you’re wearing. There won’t be much, two of us is usually enough, but it’ll help us clear it faster, I guess. And you go as soon as you need to. Actually, a rule: you tell me when you have to go and I free you from your tasks when the time comes. That’s non-negotiable, sorry.” Doesn't look sorry at all, but in the game of manipulation everything is fair.
“Okay, fine. I was planning to start at ten. Now we’re good?”
“Yes. We’re good. We start in half an hour, I’ll be waiting by the door. Welcome to the crew, for now.”
“Thanks boss.”
“Ugh, whatever. Don’t dare to call me Mr. Butcher, though. Actually, that's the second rule now.”
“Aw, man, but that was part of the experience!”
“Nope, no. Not doing that.” He’s finished eating by now, and gets up to put the plate in the sink. “See ya there, don't be late.” And so he goes in his room.
Cool, Grace thought. More observation! And work. At least this could be fun.
***
The day was a quiet one. Grace finished work on time, and had spare time on his hands, so he returned downstairs.
There was a good amount of people by the end of his morning “shift”, but now the rush has calmed down, and only a steady flow of customers was left. He could tolerate that, if in between of that he could listen to Si or Ari.
Speaking of which, he finally talked to the last mystery person here. They were interesting.
Arya was going to be a florist. Like Simon.
They were vibrant. Swift movements, fast talk, good fashion sense. In that they reminded him of Adrian, except for the energetic nature of the first.
Currently they were talking his ears off about the flower language. It was apparently one of the big projects they had planned for the future. The two of them were alone for now, as Simon went to have a late break.
Grace was sitting in his chair, in the corner between the workbench and the shelving, knitting forgotten on his lap.
“–and so the language wasn't even that, it was just meanings, but no grammar and shit like that, so in the end it was just a stupid hobby for rich people who had nothing else to do. It sucks that such a cool concept was not really that meaningful in reality–”
“But you could still use the meanings in compositions! Maybe it wouldn't be as complicated as an entire message, but it’d make it more thoughtful.”
“Hey, you’re getting it! I was just about to say that. Most people don't care about it or go with their ideas of what would look good in a composition, and honestly that’s fine, but if I can, I pick them also by symbolism. Doesn't always work out, but that’s why it’s so fun! Trial and error, baby.” They are getting a tad too enthusiastic, but Grace is used to the same from his students or, more permanently, Rocky. In both cases it was easy to listen and try to understand, and most often than not the other person would just figure out something on their own. He liked seeing the ambitions in people, too. Reminded him of what he was working for.
“So do you know the meanings of all the flowers here?”
“Yeah, at least the most often used ones. I had them written down somewhere, but I kinda just memorised it a while ago. Wanna ask about something from there?”
“Yeah, that could be fun. What about those?”
Arya looked towards rows of flowers, but didn't see what he was pointing at. “Uh, wait, it’ll be more convenient if we move there. Ooh, I may actually come up with a new design from this.”
“Sure, let me just put on my sweater.” He gets up and they go in the flower fridge.
For a few minutes Grace just points at the flowers that look most unusual to him, and Arya tells about them first, and then their meaning. He spots a familiar shape though.
“Oh, I think I remember this one! Funny story, Simon sneaked it in my order because, as he said, I looked way too sad and miserable. Or something along those lines.” Ari hides a laugh behind their hand. “It’s a… bengalia? begonia?”
They laugh louder. “Not even close. It’s gardenia.”
“Oh, but at least the general sounds are the same.”
“Whatever you want to think. So, they’re house plants. See there, by the window?”
“Mhm?”
“There's a potted gardenia there, but it can't bloom yet. The ones in here are grown outside, that’s why their stems are taller, but the inside ones are way smaller.
They are quite difficult to grow. They need humidity and special soil and specific temperatures if you want them to thrive. We can provide most of it here, but it’s still not perfect. That’s why I prefer working with cut plants — less trouble, just change water and they will live. Not forever though, but that’s the reason we love them. Memento mori and carpe diem, right?”
“I think so, yeah. You’re good.”
“Hah, thanks Mr. Grace. But back to that, I like using them in little ensembles. Especially in wedding bouquets. Their meaning is really sweet — it’s about joy, good luck, and sweet love. They are mostly white, so they also have symbolism of..?”
“..Innocence? Or puriy?”
“Yes! See, it’s really easy if you know some basic symbolism. It’s all connected, after all.”
“Guess so. So was Simon basically wishing me good luck then?”
Ari looks at him thoughtful. “Yeah.. sure. I mean, he probably still remembers what they mean, I told him about it all the time. And now can't imagine how he kept listening and nodding all that time…”
“It wasn't that difficult,” both Arya and Grace jump at an unexpected sound, “it was really interesting. And yes, I remember them.”
“Simon, jeez, don't do that!” Grace walks into the main room to talk properly. He can see amusement clearly on other’s face.”
“Yeah, that wasn't cool!” Arya follows suit. “If I die, who’s gonna preserve your legacy?"
“Oh, I think I will find someone. I’m not eighty, I have time.”
“See, Mr. Grace, how awful he is? How can you stand living with him?”
The question makes his face run a little hot. Why did it sound so… “Well, he can be nice when he wants to.”
“See, Ari? He’s on my side.”
“That’s favouritism.” They drop on the chair behind the register. “He is contaminating your goodness, run while you can.”
Grace feels the air get denser at this phrase. He doesn't look at Simon to check if he’s right. “Nah, won't happen. I rather like it here.” Now he glances back, and sees Si caught somewhat off guard. He smiles reassuringly at him. Don't worry, I’m still there. The message is received, and he gets a smile back.
Grace goes back to his seat, and listens to the bantering two, or to just the ambience of the place.
A quick thought flies through his mind — did Si only mean good luck then? but what if he meant other things?
The thought is ridiculous and makes him feel queasy, so he discards it. They only just met then and Grace was a horrible mess, no way he could actually consider that.
But the message was somewhat prophetic, he muses, as he sits there and observes the life he walked into by chance.
***
“It’s funny how you like those two opposite things.”
That was completely out of nowhere. Simon raises his head from the table quizzically. “Sorry, what was that?”
Grace laughs sweetly, and explains, “Well, you know how people always say that nature and machines are opposites, and so much fiction is based on that, and the idea in general isn't new, but they’re, like, your two main things. I just thought about it and thought that was interesting… um, yeah. That’s it.”
He does this thing when he thinks he said something stupid, so he stops talking at all. Simon doesn't want him to believe in that. “Hm, I guess? But I never really thought that they are opposite. Just different. Mechanisms you can disassemble, handle almost any way you want, and they are pretty standard and have a rigid structure to them. The rules to them are easy to remember and then you work by your instructions. Oddities are rare, but always have a logical reason.
Nature is chaotic. It’s more those oddities than structure. Or at least that’s how it feels to me. Like, sure, you can do a science approach, maybe, to learn everything about a plant, and there will probably still be a lot unexplained.”
“That’s… more or less correct, actually. Like that we don't even know what's exactly down there, in the ocean. And we’re looking constantly. I get what you mean.”
“Right? And it also feels wrong to treat nature only like that, like some subject. There has to be space for appreciation. Mechanisms give you efficiency and comfort, but nature gives you everything around you.
It’s also full of chances. Luck, bad or good. It’s cruel and loving, and fair to everyone and no one at the same time.” He unintentionally holds his mechanic arm in his flesh one. It’s something he’s been thinking of for a long time. That’s just how it was. “That’s how it is.”
He almost forgot how they got there, until Grace spoke carefully. “I… never thought of it that way. In a lab it’s easy to forget that it is not universal laws that work around us. At least until you hit a problem. And then you have to go through the wildest ideas sometimes to get it fixed. But nature does it almost effortlessly and just moves on. There are so many systems that are perfect as they are, and they all work with each other. It’s truly fascinating.” His eyes are shining as he looks at Simon.
No, what fascinating is him. A true wonder in this life. Another lucky thing nature gave him. Maybe that’s his payoff for the lab and all before that. Wouldn't this be nice.
He just nods. They don't need to say more, they both understand it.
The ambience of their work is interrupted by a notification sound. Grace shuffles and fishes his phone out.
His expression goes from content to sorrowful.
Simon tenses. “What’s that?”
Grace snaps out of it, putting on a neutrally-smiling face, “Uh, nothing, I mean… It’s from the repair company. They finished early.” He laughs almost nervously. “I guess I’ll go pack now and move tomorrow.”
Simon understands the reaction. He probably feels as hollow as Grace does. He won't say it though. “It’s fine, you can do it tomorrow, you know I won't just kick you out.”
“Uhm, thanks. Yeah, I don't really want to do it just yet.” He tries to settle back as he was in his colorful quilt. “I don't have much anyway, do I?” He smiles weakly.
He doesn't. But he will still need help bringing all of it back. Unless he doesn't have to. “We are still planning to hang out though, right? So just leave what you can here. That is, if you want to. Just seems more convenient for you.”
He regretted saying it only for a second, as Grace brightened noticeably. “Yes, that actually sounds good! Thanks, Si.”
“Eh, simply less things for you to carry.”
His smile is warmer, and audible in his words now, “Still. I appreciate it.”
So, not the worst way it could’ve gone. He’ll take it.
It already feels like they’ve parted though. But. He knows they’re going to see each other again. He can even hope that’ll be soon.
He can wait.