Chapter Text
Grace had chewed down two thirds of his nails by the time the radio messenger rang again.
After the school had called about Prism not having shown up to class and their friend Cheeto unable to give them more than “they ran out of the courtyard”, Rocky had pretty much sprinted out the door, promising to find them. Grace had dragged a chair over to the messenger and taken over communications duty, letting Adrian know, informing almost everyone working at the dome and asking them to keep a lookout, and otherwise anxiously staring at the device as he bit off his nails and nipped at the skin on his hands.
He’d been sitting here, legs bouncing, for the better part of an hour now. During that time, the school had gotten back to him again, saying they were now positive Prism had left the campus, and then Rocky had shot him a quick message, saying he’d arrived at the school and was shamelessly using his celebrity status to get people to look for Prism.
Grace pressed the open call button the very second it began to ring.
“Sienna found Prism and brought them to the med bay,” came Peanut’s voice, straight to the point.
The iron claw gripping his heart let go.
“Oh thank God,” Grace gasped, running a hand over his face and not caring the least bit about the slivers of saliva his chewed up fingers were dragging over his skin. For a split second he considered asking what was wrong with them, but he decided against it as asking equalled wasting time and he’d find out in a few minutes anyways.
Without a goodbye he hung up and shot the briefest messages possible to Rocky and Adrian. He grabbed his cane, about to dash out the door as fast as his legs would carry him, but just then he heard someone coming up the tunnel. The steps definitely belonged to an adult, but Grace would recognise that high pitched whine anywhere.
“Prism?!” he called, pressing his hand against the barrier of the entrance room. He listened to the steps coming nearer for a moment, and then-
“Mom!”
Prism was found, they were home, and apparently well enough to not need to stay in the med bay. Grace forced himself to take a deep breath, and mentally prepared himself for his child’s breakdown. He hated having to keep seeing them so distraught, but right now he was eternally grateful that Prism was panicking at home instead of possibly lying in a ditch somewhere.
The door to the tunnel opened and in stepped Moth, carrying a whining and trembling Prism, who was already in their suit.
“Mom, Mom, apology,” Prism cried immediately, “apology, apol-”
“Oh, baby, it’s okay, it’s okay” Grace sniffled, not bothering to fight the tears of shear relief. “Are you hurt? Peanut said you were in the med bay, I-”
“And they should still come back to get treated properly,” Moth said as they carried Prism over into the living room, Grace following. “I only brought them here because they begged me to and wouldn’t let me tend to them otherwise.”
“Prism, if you’re hurt, you-”
“No no no, Mom, I need to tell you, I need to apologise, please don’t be more anxious, apology for-”
“Alright,” Grace said, holding out his hands placatingly. Moth opened the door to the airlock with one hand, then gently placed Prism inside. They immediately slumped down to the ground, which had Grace lean forward with a small gasp. “O-okay, alright, I’ll listen first, and then we’ll go to the med bay. Deal?”
“Deal,” Prism chimed, not making any moves to get up.
“You’re sure they’re fine enough for now?” Grace nervously asked a retreating Moth.
“As far as I can tell they’re mostly just exhausted and, unfortunately, quite scraped up. To be safe, don’t let them walk around too much. And do not wait longer than half a cycle to come down.”
“We won’t,” Grace assured them before they took their leave. As soon as they did, Prism exploded.
“Apology, Mom, apology for worrying you,” it shot out of them, blubbering and messy. “I hurt Cheeto and Teddy is- they’re gone and I couldn’t keep going, I can’t do it, I need to change schools because I’m not like them and I can’t deal with the constant- I- and- apology apology apology I ran away, and apology for everything, please don’t be scared, I don’t want you to-”
Just as Grace was going to interrupt the avalanche coming from his kid, hating the bits and pieces he was able to pick up on, the air finished cycling with a chime. Usually Prism would zoom out of the small chamber, but this time they barely managed to push open the door.
“Oh sweetheart,” he whispered hoarsely, leaning forward from where he’d sat down on the floor and reaching into the airlock to pull Prism out. The heat from Erid’s atmosphere lingered on the outside of the well-insulated suit as he heaved them into his lap. “Did you run all the way here from school?”
“Y-yes, apology,” they mumbled, completely sagging against him.
“It’s alright, you’re home now, you’re safe,” he said, wrapping his arms and legs snugly around them.
They’re safe, they’re safe, they’re safe.
He let them nestle in close for a few seconds, simply holding them, before he spoke up again.
“What’s been going on?” he asked softly.
“I- I’m- I-” Prism stuttered, grasping at his skirt as they broke off with another whine.
“Alright, shh, it’s okay, sweetie,” he soothed. “Let’s just take it one step at a time. You said something about Teddy?”
“They destroyed Teddy,” Prism said, frustration lacing their trembling voice. Grace blanched, then he closed his eyes. He’d spent many many many days clinging to that bear like a lifeline when he’d been starving on the way to and after the arrival on Erid, and now it was gone. Destroyed, apparently. “I didn’t even do anything, I never did anything, and they keep…they just…”
The grief at the loss of the plushie disappeared as quickly as it had come when his brain processed Prism’s words.
“Who’s ‘they’?” he asked, trying not to sound too harsh.
Before answering, Prism produced a full body shiver. “They…were here. Crimson, Ivory and Ebony. The ones who hurt you. They are- they’ve been- apology, Mom, I was going to tell you but you were hurt and Rocky was hurt and I didn’t want to bother you, apology.”
Grace tightened his hold on Prism, focusing on taking measured breaths. He was still very much jittery from the almost one and a half hours of his kid being actively missing, and he could practically feel all his leftover emotions shifting to anger on behalf of his child.
Stay calm, don’t scare Prism. Breathe.
If he hadn’t been seconds away from a complete mental breakdown, he probably would’ve lashed out more harshly at those three when they’d shown their true colours. Rather, he probably would’ve made much more of an effort to track down their parents and yell at them instead. Or any effort. Once he’d been mostly aware of his surroundings again, he’d asked Prism if everything was okay at school after the incident. They’d assured him everything was fine, before offering to cuddle with him and lie on his chest. He’d been too tired to question them, to think about following up on things.
You know they tend to downplay their hurt. You know they have a tendency to hide. You should’ve done something.
“First of all,” he managed to say, keeping his voice as level as he could, “your needs come before mine. I know it was scary for you to see Rocky and I like that, and you’ve been so very considerate and kind and patient with us these past weeks, but just because we’re hurt doesn’t mean you should hide your hurt. You shouldn’t feel like you have to protect me from anything, I’m the one who has to protect you. And if neither me nor Rocky would’ve had the capacity to truly help, Adrian could’ve certainly done so. Or you could’ve gone to Tony, or Moth or really anyone here at the dome. There’s never a situation where you need to carry any kind of pain on your own. We’re all here for you, Prism.”
They fumbled with the fabric of his skirt before answering with a tiny, “Okay.”
“Okay,” Grace echoed, and then his jaw clenched. “Now, those three kids. What have they been doing to you?”
Prism went eerily quiet for a moment, then with the tiniest whimper, they brought their hands up to slam against their carapace.
“No, please,” Grace yelped, catching their arms before they could hit themself. Not that it would’ve caused much damage with them wearing the suit – except for their encased hands, which didn’t have an inch of leeway like the rest of their body did within the suit.
God, their hands.
“Is this from running?” Grace whispered, pushing his glasses further up his nose and gingerly pulling Prism’s arms a bit closer so he could take a better look. So much of their shimmering rainbow exterior looked like it had been chiselled away, the majority of their trembling fingers now having the more greyish tone of their inner layers.
“I hit myself,” they admitted, voice small. “Apology, I can’t stop. It hurts hurts hurts and hitting helps and I don’t know what else to do because it doesn’t stop. I want everything to stop, Mom.”
Grace’s heart sank all the way to the floor. Images of a knife surrounded by bismuth carapace pieces flooded his mind, which he forcefully pushed away. It wasn’t the same. This time Prism was aware of what they were doing and that it was damaging, but that brought along a whole different sort of baggage.
His kid was in so much pain they were actively destroying their fragile carapace that they were so worried about breaking, just to cope.
He was reminded of walking past some of the more quiet kids back on Earth, seeing the long sleeves of their T-shirts inch up as they worked on their exercise sheets and catching a glimpse of thin ridges across their skin. A few of them had been some of the sweetest kids he’d had the privilege of teaching. Every time he’d wondered how he hadn’t noticed they were suffering.
How haven’t I noticed that my child is suffering?
Had the one time I saw them do it been the beginning? Had they been doing it for longer? Why hadn’t Moth noticed during their checkups? Had Prism made an effort to hide it?
Why didn’t I ask and make sure they wouldn’t do it again when I saw them do it?
“We’ll figure this out, okay?” he said, voice wavering. “Just tell me what’s been happening and I can help. Those kids, have they been…?”
Prism trembled harder, forcing out a pitiful yes. Then the floodgates opened.
They talked about how they’d blamed Prism for getting sent out the door and had been relentlessly bullying them ever since then. Calling them all kinds of names, spreading rumours about them, basically turning all of Prism’s previous “fans” against them and putting them into an even worse position than they’d been in in middle school.
“-and they kept talking about you,” Prism said, sounding mournful. Grace was gently rocking back and forth, periodically running his hand over their suit and trying very hard not to interject. By now, tears were freely rolling down his cheeks, relief fully replaced with despair and the incredible guilt of not having noticed this. “Saying you were so sad to be here alone and that you can’t have a mate and kids and you- you only took me in because I’m- because I’m so ugly I might as well be a messed up human child.”
Grace couldn’t take it anymore.
“None of that is true,” he cut in, followed by a sob. “None of it, you hear me?”
“But it is true!” Prism cried. “You got so alone that you had a flashback, all because of me and my dumb school. I sometimes…forget a little that you’re not eridian. That it’s so unfair that you can’t have a real family and-”
“Stop,” Grace snapped at the implication, and Prism shrunk back immediately. He counted to five as he exhaled, wiping a few tears away. They don’t know, it’s on you for not telling them, get your act together.
“Sorry, Pris,” he tried again, softer, “I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I wanted to say that you’re wrong. You are my real family. You and Rocky and Adrian.”
“I know,” they mumbled, “I just meant-”
“I know what you meant, and you’re still wrong,” he said. “I-” He hesitated, the emotional whiplash of this whole thing leaving him staggering.
Prism wouldn’t dismiss him. They were always so open to learning, they really wouldn’t.
“I’m- I’m just not like that,” he finished lamely. Prism tilted their carapace curiously.
Alright, cool, fine, yup, looked like he was coming out of the closet. He was really very sure that Prism wouldn’t react badly, but having had way too many humans and even a handful of eridians flat out not believe him, it made that familiar anxiety bubble back up and mix wonderfully with his current my-child-is-was-missing and my-child-is-suffering-so-much-they-need-to-physically-hurt-themself-to-keep-going anxiety.
Suck it up, Prism needs to hear this.
“Back on Earth,” he began, “I struggled with relationships until I realised that they just weren’t for me. I’ve never felt sexual attraction. I thought I’d felt romantic attraction but in hindsight, that was most likely human society having pressured me into believing I did. You don’t know how relieving the realisation was that I didn’t have to find a mate, and that it was okay to not want one.”
Prism gave a small comforting humming noise, making a watery smile tug at his lips.
“I am so perfectly happy, living with my amazing child and having my best friends come over pretty much every day. I can’t imagine any better family than this one.”
“Happy happy happy,” Prism chimed, still shaky but already noticeably calmer than before now that they’d shared the bulk of the bullying and he’d assuaged some of it. In tandem, the classic coming-out-anxiety died down in Grace’s chest.
Now to address the most important part.
“I know I’ve said this so many times before already, but Prism, you are so beautiful,” he stressed. “There’s no such thing as ‘being ugly enough to not be eridian’. Those pebbles are- they’re wrong. They were just trying to be mean, not making any kind of point. You know why I chose you.”
“Can- can you tell me again?” Prism asked timidly. Grace’s smile widened.
“I chose you,” he began, “because the more time we spent time together, the even more time I still wanted to spend with you. Because you are so kind-hearted and energetic and cute. Because the way you walk and bob your carapace when you’re excited and tilt it when you’re curious or thinking, they all made me fall in love with rainbows again. Because you’re you. There wasn’t one single reason. I got to know you, and I knew I wanted to be there for you for as long as I live.”
“Thank, Mom,” Prism said, pressing against them, “Thank thank thank.”
“Of course, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Are you feeling a little better?”
“A little,” Prism confirmed. Grace let out a measured sigh.
Okay. Situation…well, not resolved but they didn’t look like they were about to hit themself again at the moment. And they didn’t seem to want to do it either, they were aware, so the first step was already out of the way. The next was getting to the bottom of “everything” and putting a stop to it, so Prism didn’t feel the need to hurt themself as a distraction anymore. It wasn’t going to be that simple, he knew, but please, let it be that simple.
“Good,” he said. “Okay, so, first, to make it very clear: I will be talking to Crimson’s, Ivory’s and Ebony’s parents as well as your teachers. If they or anyone else dares to hurt you like that again, you tell me, or any other adult you trust, and we’ll take care of it. You got it?”
It took a few seconds, but then their lingering tension seemed to almost completely dissipate. So quietly he almost couldn’t pick it up, they repeated thank thank thank on loop.
Anger flared back up. How could those three have pushed his kid so far that they looked like the weight of the world had just been lifted off their shoulders?
Deliberately breathing through his nose a few more times, he continued.
“But I still need to know,” he said as softly as he could. “You said ‘everything’ was too much and you wanted it to stop. Can you try to explain what else has been going on? Because I remember you mentioning Cheeto, and something about changing school?”
Prism stilled again, and Grace was instantly on alert, ready to catch any of their fists flying up against their suit. Some of their hands seemed to tremble more, but if they felt the urge to harm themself, they resisted.
“I yelled at Cheeto,” they admitted after a few seconds of heavy silence. “I can’t stop thinking about V- about Vantablack. Ever since the carapace thing, every day something reminds me of them. I hate it. I hate it so much, but I don’t know how to get them out of my brain. I told Tony but they said I had to ‘let the thoughts pass’ and to ‘not give them any attention’ and that over time they would get less. But that doesn’t work. And then- then Cheeto began to make jewellery.”
Grace clicked his tongue in sympathy, running his hand over their suit again.
“They were just trying to be nice when they found me with Teddy today and I yelled at them. I called their jewellery stupid. They didn’t deserve it. They probably hate me now.”
“You’re right,” Grace said evenly, “they didn’t deserve it. But I don’t think they hate you.”
“They should,” Prism mumbled. Grace’s eyebrows shot up.
“Excuse me, are you saying my child deserves to be hated?!” he said with an exaggerated tone of offence, crossing his arms. Prism shifted and trilled in the “I’m rolling my eyes with a tiny smile” kind of way.
“No,” they said, drawing out the word, stifling a giggle.
“Good,” he said, unfurling his arms and wrapping them around Prism again, “because I’m serious. I really don’t think Cheeto hates you now. It was mean, I’m not denying that. I understand why you lashed out, but that doesn’t excuse it. What you should do is go apologise to Cheeto, and follow up with a big effort to make amends. Then it’s up to them to decide what to do with that.”
“Yes yes yes, I go apologise right now!” Prism exclaimed, trying to stand up but sinking back down right away.
“Woah, hold your horses, kiddo,” Grace said, his chuckle cut off by a wince at how physically exhausted his kid was. They had run to the point of collapsing just to get away from their bullies, from their memories of Vantablack, from their pain.
“We’re not going anywhere until you’ve paid Doctor Moth a visit. And we’re not done talking about this yet either. Because please, Prism, the next time something gets too much, don’t run away.” Grace’s voice cracked on the last word. Prism shrunk back down into his lap, gingerly fumbling with their fingers.
“I completely understand needing to get away from everything, but we had no idea where you were,” he said, tone almost begging as his earlier panic made a brief reappearance. “Please, just- next time, call us and tell us you need to be alone. We can bring you home and let you stay in your room for as long as you need, no questions asked. Don’t disappear again without telling anyone. We were so scared that something bad had happened to you, you understand?”
“Apology,” Prism said the second he’d finished. “Apology, I didn’t mean to scare you. I wasn’t trying to- I was going to come back. I just…okay. Next time, I call.”
“Thank you,” Grace breathed. “We can talk about it with Rocky and Adrian, maybe pick some kind of signal so we know you need some space and you don’t have to explain. And whenever you’re ready then, we’ll all be here to listen to you and help you. Does that sound good?”
“Yes, good good good,” Prism trilled. “Still, apology.“
“Accepted,” he muttered, letting his head drop down onto their suit. For a while, he breathed in sync with Prism pulling air through their vents, assuring himself that his kid was present and safe.
“Last thing,” he said after a few minutes. “Do you really want to change schools? Or is this memories of Vantablack and the bullying talking?”
“I don’t know,” Prism mumbled. “The classes are okay. I’m not passionate about any of them, but you said I don’t need that to find a career.”
“You definitely don’t,” Grace assured. “Not every career is even tied to a certain subject in school. As long as you like your classes, you’re good. And I know I said to choose the school for you, but if Vantablack is on your mind this much, we can consider switching to a different one.”
“I don’t know,” Prism whined, arms wrapping more tightly around Grace’s arms and legs. “I like the school, I guess. Most of the other kids are leaving me alone now. My singing teacher is still a bit weird about you being my mom, and Teacher ♬♪ still treats Cheeto and I like we’re stupid. I-”
“What?!” Grace exclaimed. Prism released a cynical sounding chord.
“They’re the most obvious, but my sociology and history teacher and my science teacher also both talk kinda…slow to me. As if I’m a hatchling or something.”
Grace’s eye twitched.
“I’ll talk to them too,” he said curtly. Prism nuzzled in closer with a thank.
“Apart from that, I guess I can stay,” they continued. “I don’t want to leave Cheeto – if they forgive me. And I don’t want to have to start over at a new school again. I don’t want a repeat of…this.”
Grace hummed in understanding.
“Whatever you think is best for you,” he said. “You have the rest of today and tomorrow to decide for now – although I’m thinking you’ll need to sleep pretty soon – and I can definitely get you a few more days off if you need longer. At the end of the semester we can see how the situation is then.”
“Okay,” Prism said, and Grace had to smile at how much lighter their voice sounded now. “Thank.”
“Of course, honey.”
“Can we go to Doctor Moth now?” they asked right after. “And then to Cheeto?” Grace patted their suit with a fond shake of his head.
“You can barely stand,” he said gently, smiling through his frown.
“But-”
“But,” Grace continued, “you could call them to ask if they would want to come over so you can properly apologise to them. Or rather, call their mom if they’re home, because Cheeto will still be at school. Do you know their-”
“Yes yes, I call!” they exclaimed, weakly kicking their arms as if they could swim towards the radio messenger.
“Alright, alright, I’m getting up,” Grace laughed. A few groans and shuffled steps later, Grace sunk back into the chair still sitting next to the messenger, Prism in his lap and furiously clicking through the contacts.
They seemed fine. Weirdly, they seemed fine. Was it the exhaustion numbing everything? The motivation to apologise to Cheeto? Had his reassurances somehow flipped a switch and they were too emotionally and physically sapped to keep spiralling beyond that? Whatever it was, Grace could breath a little easier now that it didn’t feel like Prism was a second away from descending into a self-harming panic attack.
The calling tone cut off.
“Shouldn’t you be at school?” came a familiar voice. Grace furrowed his brow. He knew that voice, but he hadn’t met Cheeto’s parent yet. Had he?
“I know but so many things happened and I was so mean to Cheeto, apology apology apology, so could you ask Cheeto if they want to come visit after school so I can apologise? Please?”
Grace turned on his wrist translator and added, “We would’ve come over, but Prism is hurt, plus going anywhere outside the dome always takes ages for me.”
“Oh, hello, Saviour Grace,” they said, sounding slightly surprised and shy but also somehow casual, and still so familiar. “Yes, I can ask Cheeto when I pick them up. Are you okay, Prism?”
“Yes yes, fine,” they said dismissively. “Thank for asking Cheeto! Say apology from me many times!”
“I will,” Cheeto’s mom said. “And apology Saviour Grace for not making it to the last thrum meeting with you. I hope the notes I sent you were comprehensive enough?”
It finally clicked into place.
“Monster?!” Grace exclaimed. “You’re Cheeto’s parent?”
There was a pregnant pause. Grace could feel both Prism and Monster proverbially staring at him, and then at each other.
“I told you they were a scientist like you,” Prism said slowly, amusement creeping into their voice.
“I know, but-”
“I said they worked on astrophage. Like you. That you might know them. You said ‘that’s great’, so I thought you knew who I was talking about.”
“Kid,” Grace said, rubbing his forehead with a smile, “was that an individual sentence or were you bombarding me with three different fun facts about Cheeto simultaneously? Because I can keep up with most casual conversation at this point, but my human brain still has limits.”
“Apology,” Prism said, for once not actually sounding apologetic at all.
“Anyway,” he said pointedly, turning to look at the messenger, “we’d really appreciate it if you two could come over, Monster, because I’ve been meaning to talk to Cheeto’s parent anyway and ask you some questions about your notes too. So really three birds, one stone.”
“I’m not sure I got that last part, but sounds good,” Monster said. “That is, if Cheeto wants to come.”
“Of course, Cheeto decides!” Prism piped up. Grace affectionately patted their carapace.
“Alright, thank you so much,” he said, finger hovering over the close call button. “See you later!”
The sound of their goodbye grooves came through the speaker, and Grace ended the call.
“Med bay,” he said, pointing a finger at Prism.
“Thank, Mom,” they said instead of answering, pressing themself against his chest. “Thank for calling and not being mad and everything-”
“You’re welcome,” Grace said, knowing by now that trying to stop them from thanking him for things that go without saying never worked. “But I’m serious. Med bay.”
“Yes yes,” Prism said, but this time they knew better than to attempt to stand again.
An hour later, Moth had finished bandaging up Prism’s hands and strapping them into the eridian equivalent of a wheelchair (it was very similar to the one Rocky had had to use after being in Erid’s gravity again: a padded ring for their carapace to rest on on top of five legs each with a 360° wheel, adjustable such that it was low enough for them to still touch the ground and push themself forward) with the strict instruction to not put any weight on any chipped carapace parts. Rocky and Adrian had both arrived by then, roughly at the same time, and fussed over Prism almost more than Grace had.
He’d given them the short version of what had happened, sensing Prism getting more agitated the longer he went on, but had made the undertone very clear: that like them, he was just about ready to burn that school to the ground. They’d thankfully picked up on it and instead brought back some levity by laughing at him together with Prism about how dumb he was for not making the connection between Cheeto’s astrophage scientist parent and his colleague who he knew had recently adopted.
He’d kicked them out after that, wanting to get both him and Prism back up to the house as Monster and Cheeto should be coming soon. Rocky had had no complaints, basically having dragged Adrian out of the med bay, probably to drive back to school and find out everyone’s contact details, and perhaps to pregame on the yelling until Grace could make it there.
By the time the doorbell rang, Grace was settled on the couch, about to start crocheting a new piece with some of his Erid-atmosphere-resistant yarn, and Prism was pushing themself around in anxious circles. They had donned the amethyst bracelet Cheeto had made for them just for good measure.
Before Grace could even attempted to get up, Prism had let out a squeak and rolled out into the entrance hall with nigh unsafe speed. He heard the buzz of the tunnel entrance door button, followed by two nearing quintets of steps. Just as Grace made it over to his side of the entrance hall, translator turned on, Prism ripped the door to the tunnel open.
“Apology, Cheeto!” they exclaimed. “I was so rude, you didn’t deserve. I don’t think your bracelets are stupid, I was just upset and stupid and apology apology apology!”
Cheeto absorbed for a moment, clicking a few times, until they leaned forward and gently chinked their carapace against Prism’s.
“Forgiven,” they chirped, before pointing at their wheelchair. “Mom said you got hurt. What happened? Was it those ♫♪♫-”
“Oi,” Monster cut in.
“I can say it because they are ♫♪♫!” Cheeto protested.
“Don’t think I’ve heard that swear before, but regardless, I agree,” Grace said, stuffing down the last bits of anger trying to resurface to be dealt with later, when Prism wasn’t around.
For a second Monster looked like they might’ve wanted to push back against the swear thing, but then their carapace sagged.
“They hurt you?” they asked in a low voice.
“No, yes, I-” Prism floundered, so Monster waved them off.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain.”
“How about you and Cheeto go talk in your room?” Grace suggested, to which both kids chimed in agreement before zooming off, Prism drifting around the furniture. A call to be careful was on his lips, but they were already on the other side of the living room by then. With a fond shake of his head, he lead Monster over to where the seats were on Prism’s side of the barrier, and sat back down on his couch next to them.
Monster turned around their own axis for a bit before settling down into a seat, and then they were fumbling with their fingers like they often did if Grace talked to them one-on-one after a thrum meeting.
“I wanted to say again how much I appreciate you coming over,” Grace said, “Prism was so scared they’d ruined their friendship with Cheeto forever.”
“They’re a good kid,” Monster said lightly, “Cheeto seemed more worried than upset when I fetched them.”
“Yeah…” Grace trailed off. “Prism’s been- I just found out they were being bullied. Not the occasional teasing, but continuously and viciously.” He ran a hand over his face. “I should’ve seen it. I just…”
Monster gave a sad and sympathetic chime.
“Cheeto mentioned some annoying pebbles,” they said after a pause, “but had said they’d backed off lately.”
“Because they made an effort to catch Prism alone,” Grace mumbled, curling his fingers into his hair. He groaned. “Why is it always the kids who’ve gone through way too much already that get a whole new pile of crap loaded on top?”
“Tell me about it,” Monster said, voice heavy. Grace looked up at them. “Cheeto doesn’t like to talk about it, but their time living at their middle school’s communal nest after their birth parents died was one of the hardest periods they’ve had to go through. So many of the other kids in that nest had been truly awful to them.”
Grace frowned deeply, shaking his head. Birds of a feather, he supposed. Having a friend in similarly crappy circumstances to you allows for a level of safety and comfort you just wouldn’t get otherwise, not always needing to be ready to explain and defend yourself because they just got it. He thought back to his own high school friend Tanja, who everyone had known was autistic, and his pre-diagnosis teen self thinking “I don’t know why but she’s just easier to hang out with”.
Eridian neurotypicality had several traits that overlapped with human autism and ADHD – which was honestly fantastic for him – but they also had the concept of neurodivergence. Its facets were hard to label in human terms, but Rocky for example was diagnosed with something Grace would describe as eridian autism. Adrian often joked that he and Rocky were more similar than Rocky was to some of his siblings.
And this didn’t just count amongst friends, but children and parents too. Prism was undiagnosed, but Grace would be willing to bet that they had some equivalent to ADHD. They had briefly talked about Cheeto’s Crystal Carapace after the two had met, and looking at Monster now with that bit of context, he was guessing they had it as well.
Just a couple of very cool disabled dudes with their very own adopted disabled kids.
His frown slowly melted away.
“Good thing we found them,” he said softly.
If some other teacher had noticed the abuse, Prism could’ve just as easily ended up in a communal nest like Cheeto had, unable to escape their life at school at all. Or perhaps nobody would have noticed, and they would’ve continued to live with Vantablack for years.
But they hadn’t. Through whatever force, Grace and Prism had found each other. Just like Cheeto and Monster had. Four birds of a feather.
Monster chirped in agreement and said, “Sometimes I marvel at all the turns my life had to have taken for me to get where I am, with Cheeto.”
“You’re telling me?” he said with a small bark of laughter, pointing at his alien self. Monster chuckled, and the two fell into a companionable silence.
Then Grace remembered one of the other reasons he’d been meaning to talk to Monster.
“About your notes,” he piped up, “what the heck do you mean by ‘dissipation invariance’? Am I missing something? Because I tried to look up the term-”
“Ah, no, apology, that was a mistake,” Monster said sheepishly. “The words ‘invariance’ and ‘factor’ are written so similarly, I often switch them up. I probably meant ‘dissipation factor’.”
Grace huffed out a laugh, leaning back. Those two hours of confused googling on his Internet Archive – with an ever increasing eridian materials folder – had been for nothing then.
“Dude,” Grace breathed between chuckles, and soon Monster was giggling with him.
The conversation continued on to the rest of Monster’s notes and what else the thrum had been working on in the meantime. At some point Grace had grabbed his crochet hook and special yarn, beginning to work on the new stuffed toy he wanted to make for Prism – one that could survive in their atmosphere. Their conversation topic shifted from astrophage to some of their colleagues, over to a detailed explanation on CC, some discussion on Prism’s carapace structure and Grace’s own space, starvation and Erid induced chronic illnesses, and then jumped over to Monster’s long term friend, sort of work acquaintance, a few streets over neighbour Trashi they were crushing on hard.
“It sounds like they’re into you,” Grace said, very slowly hooking the yarn so he wouldn’t miss it like his last three rushed attempts.
“You really think so?” Monster asked, sounding both very hopeful and very unsure.
“Yeah, man, you-” The door to Prism’s room opened. “-said they spend every Friday at your place- hey, kids!”
Cheeto looked like they’d been about to launch a giggling Prism across the entire living room in their wheelchair, but they halted.
“Are you talking about Trashi?” they clocked immediately. “Because I told you to just ask them out!”
“Yes, Cheeto talked about them,” Prism chimed in, still giggly and seeming antsy to see how fast they could go in their chair. “I agree.”
“Alright, this topic is closed now!” Monster squeaked, jumping up with a brief wince. “We should get going anyways.”
“No, just wait a little, we have to-”
“No!” Grace yelped when Cheeto leaned back to get more momentum. “Nuh-uh, we will not be hurling anyone who should be recovering across the room.”
“Please?” Prism begged, nonexistent puppy dog eyes very strong.
“You’re going to crash into something and get even more hurt,” he said, crossing his arms. “I don’t think I can handle that today, Pris.”
Prism’s excited wiggling simmered down.
“Yeah, okay,” they conceded. “Apology, Chee.”
“Is okay,” they said. “There’s not that much space here anyways.”
Grace pinched the bridge of his nose. Yeah, he was not going to dignify that train of logic with a response. Monster shook their carapace, mirroring his exasperation.
Honestly, they collapse to the point they can’t walk anymore and then as soon as movement is regained, they wanna propel themself carapace first into a wall.
Kids.
“Anyway,” Monster said loudly. “Do you need a bit longer or are you ready to head home?”
“We were done, we just needed the living room to-“ Prism lightly elbowed Cheeto. “Nothing. We’re done. But, uh, I had a question, Saviour Grace?”
“Just Grace is fine, kiddo,” he said, then looked over at Monster. “That counts for you too, by the way. I’ve had to ask you at least I+ times to drop the title.” Cheeto and Prism giggled when Monster trilled out a bashful okay.
“Is it true that you talk about silly things in your sleep?” Cheeto asked. “Because I’m not sure I believe Prism.”
Grace gave his much too amused child an unimpressed look. Prism innocently played with one of the wheels of their chair.
“Yes,” he sighed, “it’s true.”
Cheeto let out a string of noises meaning something along the lines of “omg, no effing way” as Prism unashamedly laughed.
“Yeah, I agree with Monster,” he deadpanned, “this topic is closed and you guys are going home now.” Which only made the two laugh harder.
Knowing this would keep going if they didn’t intervene, Grace and Monster both began to head to towards the front door, and the two giggling pebbles followed.
“This was nice,” he said as Monster went to open the door to the tunnel. “I’d love for you two to come by more often.”
“Yes, please!” Cheeto said, raising their arms excitedly.
“I think we’d love that too,” Monster said with a chuckle, patting Cheeto on the carapace. Prism and Cheeto chittered happily, almost perfectly in sync. Grace smiled.
He had no idea how Prism would’ve made it through this whole fiasco without Cheeto. Thinking about it only made his heart constrict, so he focused on his kid currently running their hand over their forearm and telling their best friend they’d see them again on Monday. Looked like the potential change of school was already forgotten.
After all due goodbyes were given and the door was shut, Grace released a contented sigh. Today really could’ve gone so, so much worse.
“Come on, I want to show you something,” he said, beckoning Prism back to the living room. He went to sit back down on the couch, then held up the small brown piece of crocheted yarn.
“I’m making you a new plush,” he said softly. “Any requests?”
Prism pushed themself closer to the barrier, pressing their bandaged hands up against the xenonite. They were quiet at first, but then they began to claw at the wall, letting out a low whine.
“I want to hug you, Mom,” they said, and Grace’s hand immediately dropped the yarn to touch the wall in the same spot.
“Oh, sweetie,” he tsked, “If your wheelchair will be fine in my atmosphere, then Rocky or Adrian can help you into your suit when they come back.”
Prism hummed yes, then went to lean against the barrier as best as they could from within the chair. Grace lowered himself to the floor and did the same.
“Thank thank thank thank thank,” they whispered, “so much thank, I feel so much better. Today was- these weeks were- I-”
“I know,” Grace whispered back. “I know, sweetheart. I’m here now. We’re all here. Rocky and I are fine, you don’t have to worry about us. Just let us take care of you.”
And he meant it. He and Rocky had talked about it extensively with their respective therapists alone and together, and the consensus had been that they simply couldn’t work full time. They didn’t even have to – Rocky had been given a hero’s pension upon returning from the mission and Grace only worked because he wanted to – but had kidded their workaholic selves into thinking they could manage it. They were both going to stick to only working mornings at their respective places of work, then spend afternoons either working from home together at the dome or otherwise just spending time together such that a flashback like that wouldn’t happen again.
How exactly Adrian’s and Prism’s schedules would potentially be adapted to accommodate everyone’s wellbeing remained to be seen, but regardless of that, Grace was not going to let him neglecting his mental health get in the way of being there for his child again.
“Thank, Mommy,” Prism said, putting one open hand deliberately against the xenonite. Grace quickly wiped away a stray tear, and covered his child’s hand with his own.
“Always.”