Chapter Text
Armando circled overhead, like the vultures in one of the nature documentaries we’d all watched together. I knew what he wanted, and held my arm out. The robot quickly switched my bandage, sanitizing the area before slapping another patch over top of the thick blisters and oozing burns. It was also nice since one of the sprays numbed the area so I would get a good half hour break from the constant throbbing.
My stomach rumbled, too used to regular meals. It wasn’t happy with the absence of the Sacraments we had on board. My mouth kept filling with spit as I thought about biting into a warm burrito, or slurping down some Ramen. My body was greedy, biological proof of my Gluttony. I understood the need for some sort of meal, on Eden I rarely went totally without, we couldn’t Carry the Tree without eating. It was impossible.
But I shouldn’t be allowed the blessing of partaking of the Sacraments. Those were for Grace. And now that he’d woken up and seemed actually aware a few times… I really couldn’t steal from him. I shouldn’t eat them, that was not food for Sinners let alone the Damned. But we didn’t have the familiar rations of Eden. The closest we got were food bars that Grace didn’t like because they ‘tasted and felt like eating sand’ and ‘might be bearable if smothered in chocolate’. I’d rationalized that those would be fine to eat. I doubted Grace would willingly eat them. It’s not like I liked them, but they would keep me going until a better solution could be made.
I slipped off the medical cot and relatched my Butchers Apron back on. If Armando finished with me I knew soon he’d be dealing with Grace… and I’d rather not see what was under the thick bandages. Grace also moaned and whimpered in pain even while totally asleep every time they were changed. I’d watched the first few times in case it was too much and he went into shock and… But now that seemed less likely I really didn’t want to see his burns and bruises again.
Disgust flared at the memories and I took off towards the food. Digging through the bins, I reach back into the mostly full box of bars. I grab one. I could almost hear Rocky’s stomping and whistling frustration that I needed to eat more, and that he’d watch even if it was disgust disgust disgust as long as it was a real meal. I choked down one of the crumbly protein bars, I could almost feel Grace's firm hand rubbing up and down my spine. The whispered offering of him gladly warming me up something better, that I should eat things I enjoyed, that everything onboard was shared. But none of that was real.
I threw the plastic wrapper back in the box and slid the whole bin back onto the rack with more force than was necessary, it was slightly off and got stuck at an angle. I shove it again with my whole shoulder. It didn’t budge. I growled at the bin and tried to yank it out. It still didn’t budge. Anger flashed through me and I raised my foot and kicked it again and again and again and again. The plastic split and buckled with my last kick. The bin slid back onto the rack, the side closest to me cracked and folded over itself. I ran a finger over the branching lines, it almost looked like roots.
Rubbing a fist over my eyes, sniffing. I ran out of the room and ended up back at the Lab. I knelt in front of Rocky’s airlock. I’d hung the chain from my swing by it and I shook it a few times. Bowing forward until my head rested on the plush Rocky, I sat there silently. I couldn’t even bring myself to pray in my own mind. All the prayers felt hollow. Begging and pleading wouldn’t fix this.
I wasn’t even sure if he was still alive, or if I was kneeling in front of a dead body.
I sat up, hugging the plush and studied Rocky. He had not moved, still in the same limp position. But… the black areas around his vents had changed. I’d seen enough decomposition to know bodies changed after death. However, I didn’t know how Eridians decomposed. Maybe this was decomposition. Or maybe the thickening almost powdery slush that was building up and around his vents were scabs.
They had to be scabs. Rocky had to be healing. He would wake up, just like Grace had. The Divine was just trying to teach me patience. I just had to wait a little bit longer. It would all be okay, we’d be a happy family again. Just if I hold on a little longer.
I clung to that hope the same way I clung to the plush.
Things had gotten a little easier after Grace woke up. Truly woke up, I mean. Early on he mumbled and slurred out nonsense, with lots of pained noises in between. I’d hid in one of the mostly abandoned sleep pods and covered my ears with my pillow the first night. After what felt like forever I’d finally fallen asleep. It was weird to wake up alone, but it was my penance. I’d thought watching Grace slowly and painfully die was my Divine Punishment. I couldn’t bring myself to Cull him though. It would be a Mercy, but I’m selfish. I’d rather have Grace suffer for days just so I could have a few more hours with him. Now I’m glad I waited.
Grace spoke, he was woozy, and out of it. But awake and alive. I’d helped Mercy care for Father after a bout of appendicitis led to surgery. It was similar to that, but funnier as it was Grace acting loopy. He already was a bit weird and silly, this just made it worse.
Something in me lightened. I wasn’t alone. I might still have time to fix it. If Rocky was showing signs of improvement and Grace, while not…. well, wasn’t on the brink of death anymore, then was a chance I might not have to Process either of them. And as they continued to heal I could carry them, in the way they’d carried me. At least for a while. Until they got better. I dug my nose into the plush with a tiny smile. I’d like that. Maybe what I’d taken as Divine Punishment was… a learning opportunity. Grace and Rocky told me over and over that getting something wrong was okay, and that mistakes were just ‘learning opportunities’. I… still felt like I should have some form of punishment. But maybe if I did both then I’d learn from the mistakes and also be able to pay for my Sins. It was a ‘win win’.
Bowing deeply once more to Rocky, I stood, kneading the plush with my fingers. I had to prepare a way to get Grace up to the Lab. I had a few ideas, I just needed to put them together.
I wasn’t stupid. Things could still go very wrong. Large burns and major injuries like Grace’s were prone to issues even months after. I could be wrong, and Rocky might… not be healing. Grace didn’t even remember what I’d done to Rocky and he might change his mind about long hugs being appropriate punishments. They were best friends, closer than any two other people I’ve ever met. And now Rocky was…
No, Rocky had to be healing. The build up around his vents was thicker. They had a slight red undertone in the charcoal blackish-grey. That had to be a good thing. It had to be. They were both healing.
I gripped the plush tighter as I grabbed the swing off of the airlock. The chain rang out in its word wish as it slid over the glass. My socked feet padded quietly across the too quiet Lab floor, the constant whirring of the ship's systems the only other sound that filled the space. It was eerie. Even at night, I’d hear Grace quietly snore or snuffle in his sleep or Rocky’s soft clicking of his hand counting the seconds mixing with the clinks and jangles of whatever project he worked on. Now for the last few days, it was silent.
The Hail Mary was supposed to be filled with excited cheering and idle chatter. Conversations rarely died but just went on pause. And if someone wasn’t talking, then there was regularly some sort of background noise from a movie, or music, or something. But the last few days it has been so quiet. I couldn’t handle it anymore. A desperate monotone hum ripped out of me as something deep in me squeezed. I needed to hear something. I took a breath and continued the shaky tone. The tone equallied out and stopped wobbling as the building tension in me eased.
Nodding to the Rocky plush, I set off to go check in on Grace. Armando should be done by now. While I didn’t deserve the comfort, watching him breathe settled the constant trembling tension inside me.
Grace was huffing, the end of each breath whistling. The tube that provided the air to the mask was kinked ever so slightly. I fixed it, moving it to try to keep it from happening again. I was happy to hear his breathing improve. There was a painned pinch cutting into his moistening brow. It pulled on the tapped gauze over his head wound. I wiped his forehead with the edge of my shirt and gently tapped the tape back against his skin. A slight shiver shook him, and I darted over to the crumpled pile of quilt I’d left on the hallway floor. I covered him, trying to be careful around his thickly wrapped arm and his IV. Grace relaxed into the bed at that point, looking peaceful.
I nod to myself. Good. Now just to figure out how to get Grace up a ladder without hurting himself. I sigh at the thought and duck forward into a sort of bow. My head tucked into the space next to his head. I was really tired and still felt a bit sick even after days, and if I wasn’t a vile Damned, I’d let myself rest. But Grace wanted to see Rocky… and who was I to argue with him.
Sighing, I stood upright, a rush of light headedness hit me, but not bad enough to be concerning. I placed the Rocky plush in the divot I’d made in Grace’s pillow. I patted its head.
“Watch him sleep, okay?” I tapped my foot twice and made the plush nod in response. A small smile curled at the edges of my lips as I darted off to try to build the contraption I had in mind.
Humming as I collected things up, I filled the silence with anything I could think of. I’d started with the lullaby Rocky sang to me. Then shifted to the song Grace sang to show us Karaoke as I actually set up. Once that song was done I hummed some of the songs from Eden and practiced saying Korean phrases.
Anything to fill the ever present silence.
_________________________________________________________________________
Grace groaned loudly, jolting me out of my half doze. The noise didn’t mean he was awake. He might just be fussy in his sleep from being due for more painkillers. I was tempted to stand from my place curled up against the wall, to read Armando’s screen, but decided to stay huddled up.
Just because I hadn’t hurt him the last few times didn’t mean I deserved to have the comfort of being close to him so regularly. I could monitor him from the furthest corner of the room just fine. I could hear him breathe from here, and Armando’s chirping beep of needing input hadn’t chimed, so it would just show the consistent heartbeat, oxygen levels, and blood pressure along with some things I didn’t really know what they meant.
Tucking my chilled hands into my armpits I tried to squash the covetous thoughts as I looked longingly at the warm quilt bunched up over Grace’s legs. The floor was cold.
“S’mn?” I heard Grace’s slurred words. I ducked my head down as my heart tripled in speed. This still didn’t mean he was awake. I bit my lip and tucked my knees up under my elbows.
But I really really hoped this meant he was awake. It had been hours.
Hissing in pain, Grace mumbled his odd half curses under his breath. I needed to check on him, I’d promised myself I’d carry him until he was better, but I was stuck. I should be better than this. I’d monitored the injured before, it wasn’t that hard. Keep the airways clear. Check pulse and blood pressure. Clean wounds and change bandages periodically. I wasn’t even doing most of it, Armando was.
I wasn’t even sure what Sin this reaction was tied to. Maybe Sloth? But that didn’t even feel right. Pride over it not being me doing it? That wasn’t it either. I had no idea, but if I looked up and Grace was still asleep I would start crying again.
I was really sick of crying.
Fabric shifted loudly and I snapped my head up. Grace was once again trying to slide off the bed. This time instead of sitting up he’d bent his middle sideways and his legs dangled over the edge of the thin bed. His breath was pained pants and his eyes were open and glossy with unshed tears.
I scowl hopping up and shoved his legs back on the bed with more force than was necessary. But I was frustrated. He was definitely awake. Since every time he actually woke, Grace tried to get up which was very bad.
“Ow,” Grace whined. His good hand was trying to move the bundle of blankets that was pressing into his tightly bound sprained ankle. But the action was shifting his burned arm and fractured collarbone.
“You are bad at care self.” I grumbled, folding the blanket in a way to elevate the ankle as I grabbed the pillow I had been using off the ground. I batted at it to make sure there was no dirt.
“Self care.” Grace breathed out. “‘S Self care.”
“Are you actually awake?” I asked, tapping my foot as I hugged the pillow to my chest. My eyes shifted over to the plush that had rolled itself even closer to the crook of Grace’s neck. Grace… needed it more than I did.
“Mmmmm, Think so.” He groaned. “Was I hit by a truck?”
“There are no trucks in space. So, no.”
Grace fogged his mask as he laughed. It got interrupted by a pained moan and a few light coughs. “Don’t make me laugh, kiddo. Wait til I’m better.”
It wasn’t supposed to be a joke, but Grace found lots of things funny normally. On drugs he seemed to find the most random things funny or totally devastating. I was happy he was awake, but it was a bit like whiplash. Turning Armando’s screen to me, Grace was due for his next dose in about a minute. “You’re due for more pain medicine soon.”
“How soon?”
“Fifty-eight seconds.”
“Amazing.” There was a beat, and Grace turned his head to me. “How you holding up?”
I shrugged. Gently tucking the pillow under Grace’s swollen ankle, over the folded quilt. His foot was dark purple all the way down to his toes. It probably hurt pretty bad. I walked around the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles in the sheets.
“S’not an answer.” He tried to cross his good arm over his chest to grab me, but I stepped back. Grace pouted. “Why’re we playing that game again? I don’t like that game.”
I blinked at that. “You remember?”
“Yup. You owe me a long hug, bud.” Grace brought his unbandaged hand up to his forehead to poke around at the bandage found there. “Ooo, ouch. Head wound?”
I nodded at that, mind still reeling that he remembered. Last time it had taken him a while to be vaguely aware he’d been awake before. This– this was great news. Perking up, I stepped forward and pulled his hand away from jabbing his forehead in a way that obviously hurt. “You also have second and third degree burns on your left arm, a small crack in your left collarbone, first degree burns on your torso, bruises on your back, and your left ankle is pretty badly sprained.”
“Wow, that’s…. A long list.” Grace’s voice had an odd lilt to it. It took me a minute to understand why. His eyes gave him away as they glazed over, unfocused and distant. The painned hitch in his breaths disappeared as he melted into the cot. “Tha’s why ‘m on the good drugs. Nice. Thanks, Armando.”
The robot chirped in response.
I just held Grace’s hand as he zoned out. After a while I started gently massaging his hand. I stretched and popped each of his fingers. I wasn’t really sure what else to do to help, everywhere else was so… hurt. His right hand seemed… mostly okay though. I switched from gently moving his fingers around to pinching at the meatiest part between his first finger and thumb. I froze at the short hum Grace made, unsure if that was positive or not.
“... Did that hurt?” I asked.
“No,” he smiled, closing his eyes. “Feels nice.”
“Good.” Continuing the gentle massage, I tentatively worked up his wrist, shifting his bracelet around to get at the skin underneath. Grace’s breaths slowed, I think he’s slowly falling back asleep. I tried to kill the disappointment. Sleeping was good for healing. Rest was necessary for the body to fix itself. Mercy had drilled that into me from my first day in her Infirmary. Grace reaffirmed it whenever I’d have an episode. I should be happy Grace was sleeping so much. It means he will improve faster. He really might actually survive.
I shifted to go even higher up Grace’s arm. The inside of my elbow hit the cleaver attached to my Butchers Apron. Suddenly the comforting weight of it felt stifling. I needed it off, yesterday. My hands shook as I undid the clasps. Spinning in a swift circle, I peeled it off my shoulders, it scraped painfully against the thin bandage on my arm. I was about to chuck it away, when I paused. I yanked off one of the smaller paring knives and shoved it in my pocket, then threw it away from me with a clatter.
“Simon?” Grace had rolled his head to the side, trapping the Rocky plush under his cheek. His expression was so openly caring it made something in me squirm. “Wha’z that? You okay?”
I should lie. Grace was deeply unwell. I was supposed to be Carrying the Weight for him, not dumping more weight on him. I needed to lie. I opened my mouth and had to slam it shut.
“It’s okay to not be okay, kiddo. It’s scary when people you care for… are injured.” Grace got that strange distant look, but not in the ‘getting more drugs’ way but in the ‘memories came back’ way.
“Oh, shi–oot.” Grace barely swerved the swear. “Shoot. Simon, Simon, oh my G-d. How… how long have I been in and out of sleep?”
Grace was remembering, this was… this was a good thing. He’d know how badly I hurt the two of them. The comfort and offers for soft ‘punishments’ would end. I could now pay for my Sins. My eyes pricked, trying to fill with tears, but lacked the water to make them. Stepping back, Grace reached out and grabbed my wrist. I leaned away still, my shoulders reaching my ears.
“Simon, I need an answer.”
I shrugged.
“With words.” I flinched at the harsh tone. Grace’s thumb rubbed a soothing arc over my wrist as he softened his tone. “Please.”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged again, “Two or three days?”
“Days?!” Grace’s half drooped eyes snapped fully open, and he tried to sit up. I shoved him down, my hand straying too close to the fractured collarbone and he yelped. The Rocky plush rolled off and onto the floor.
Able to break away as he curled around the injury with a moan. Accidentally kicking the plush, I darted after it to my corner. Dropping down into a ball, I snap a hand out and pinch the handmade Rocky between my chest and knees. I shoved my nose into it. I inhale deeply through my nose again and again, trying to dig past the ammonia scent and get to the more comforting smells of coffee, ramen or even rubber gloves. It used to smell like Grace and now it just was a reminder of how I’d failed.
“Hey kiddo, I’m here. Don’t worry, I’m fine. You’re fine. And… the two of us are fine. We’ll figure everything else out. Sorry I yelled, I was just surprised.”
Grace’s voice was low, with a pained tension to it. I rotated my head just enough to peek up at him from under the fringe of the messy hair in my face. He was turned to balance on his good shoulder, his uninjured hand hovered over his injuries. Sweat beaded over his forehead and he coughed a few times between panting breaths. His oxygen mask was gone. The glossiness of his eyes from the drugs made his extreme focus on me… odd. It almost seemed like he was seeing past me.
“Keep breathing, yeah, good job, Simon. Slow and steady, yeah just like that, great job.”
Oh, he thought I was panicking…. Was I panicking? Honestly, I wasn’t sure. I felt bad, that’s for sure. I had ever since I realized what I’d caused. I couldn’t sleep for too long, nightmares disturbing me. Which lead to two full terrifying night cycles. It was still terrifying during the day, but something about being alone in the dark was harder. I didn’t want to do that again. I didn’t want to be alone. Not at night. Not now. I shoved my face back into the main body of the plush, and hugged my knees tightly. I whimpered as my arms brushed together over the burn on my arm.
“Armando? Help me over there… Yeah, I don’t care, I need to get to my kid.” Grace sounded desperate. I vaguely followed the whirs, thumping, along with the pained grunts and groans. After one final thud close enough for me to feel, a gentle hand rested on my head. “I’ve got you. ‘M here. You’re not alone anymore.”
I shook my head, tightening my grip, ignoring the zing of pain that shot up my arm. “You’re still hurt. You n-need to rest. And I–I need, I need to Carry… I gotta… The stars… and… You and–and Rocky and it’s all… I need to fix… I was flying… and then I… and it all…” I couldn’t seem to find the right words, my mind racing faster than I could actually speak. Holding my breath, I gestured around trying to encapsulate everything with one hand movement and finally was able to spit out one coherent thought. “It’s all my fault.”
“Oh, Kiddo, no.” Grace’s voice broke. He shifted to pull me into his good side, his arm cradled my head. “This is not your fault. None of it. We should’ve planned better, and that’s on me and… and Rocky, not you. You did your part. You can’t control when your episodes happen. We knew that going into it, this was a possibility. And I have no doubts you’ve done amazing to keeping things going while I was sleeping. But I’m awake now. Armando’s slowly cutting back my dose and I’m so pumped with adrenaline now, I’ll probably be awake for a while… but that’s not what’s important right now. You’re important. But, I think we both have earned a few mandatory rest days. Probably at least a week, alright? We can bum around for a bit. Don’t gotta worry about the Stars, a week or even if we need to take a whole month it’ll be okay. However much time we need, we’ll take it. Then once we’re both feeling up to it I’ll go back to fixing the stars, okay? This is my job, you don’t have to take the lead on any of that, Simon. It’ll just be how it was before, when I need help I’ll ask you for it. But you don’t need to put that pressure on yourself, especially not right now.”
At that moment my body finally decided that I was panicking. I started to gulp down air as my eyes filled with tears. Grace’s soothing mumbled ‘word vomit’ faded behind the ringing in my ears. After a while, anger flashed through me. I wasn’t even sure what I was angry at. Maybe everything? I stomped my feet against the ground in quick succession. I grabbed the plush and squeezed my fingers deep enough to feel the harder center. A part of me wanted to yank the limbs off one by one. That startled me and I threw the plush as hard as I could with a yell. It wasn’t enough, I was angry.
I now on top of it all missed the Rocky plush.
Slamming my feet harder, I threw my head back, hitting the wall. I went to do it again and Grace caught my head. I snarled, yanking my head out of his hand. I got one more good slam in, when a second hand pressed into the side of my face with a short pained hum.
I froze. The bandages covering the hand were scratchy against my buzzing skin. My heart still pounded, energy thrummed through me, I was still angry. Everything was still wrong. But… but Grace… no… he shouldn’t… he shouldn’t touch me. Especially not with his injured arm. If I move I’ll hurt him.
“You can, you can l-let go. I’m–I’m c-calm n-now.” I force out.
“No you aren’t.” Grace’s voice was clipped as he guided me into a hug. “And that’s okay.”
I pressed my nose into his chest. Grace’s bad arm was really just draped over my shoulder, while the other was tight across my back. But it was still more than he should do. It was more than I deserved. The mountain of anger flipped in an instant to a deep pit of despair. I’d done it again.
“All I do is hurt you,” I sniffed, snaking a hand in between us and grabbing the fabric of his shirt. “Why?”
“...Why, what?”
“Why won’t you hurt me back? You never hurt me back, even though you should.”
Grace made a pained noise. I flinch at the sound. Trying to think of a way to slide out without hurting him more, I freeze in place.
“We’re still on that, huh? But honestly, have we ever really left?” A humourless laugh which morphed into a small coughing fit. “Ugh, ow. Don’t laugh, right, got it.”
“I’m sorry.” I mumbled.
“You’re a kid not a star. Does that make sense?”
What the heck was Grace talking about? “No?”
Grace’s snort morphed into a single half hearted cough. “I think it made more sense in my brain. Blame the drugs. But Tau Ceti’s a star, right?”
“Yeah?”
“Hear me out before you judge me here. Tau Ceti, star. Stars are huge and got insane mass. I’m talking mindbogglingly huge here. On Earth, Sol even being ninety-three million miles has gravitational pull on the oceans and I lived on a boat in the middle of the ocean for a while. They’re super huge, too. But the Sun? It’s so big it has enough pull on the dwarf planets 50 times further than Earth is from the sun that they orbit it still. That’s huge.”
I had no idea where he was going with this, but I was trying to keep an open mind like he asked. Even though a large part of me wondered how much Armando actually ‘lowered’ his dose of painkillers.
“Back to Tau Ceti. Think of all the planets circling it. Its existence is the only reason they stick around. Heck, I wouldn’t be here if Tau Ceti wasn’t the only star in the area that wasn’t dimming. Same… same with Rocky.” His voice got soft for a moment before he jumped right back in. “The star is the central reason we’re all here and it dictates so much of our every action from the gravity it pulls to its bright light. If it wasn’t here neither would we. You following so far?”
“I guess?”
“Hey, I’ll take it. So Stars, pretty cool, but also not going to lie. Really annoying that they can just decide to stop working. Which is a massive oversimplification. But if the stars didn’t start dimming, I’d still be teaching middle school science and grading papers until my pens ran out of ink. I enjoy science, and I… think I mostly enjoyed my time on the Vat, but it was also terrifying. And crazy hard every day with the constant meetings and stress we were under. Waking up in space with no memory was terrifying. Trying to learn how to communicate with Rocky was hard. If you keep going down the line of everything that’s happened, we could even blame Sol dimming for me getting injured. It was all the sun’s fault.”
“But it’s the Astrophage dimming Sol.”
“Yeah, I’m oversimplifying. But the point I’m trying to make is that you are not a star.”
The way he said it made it seem like it was supposed to make sense. Which it didn’t. At all. “… what?”
“I don’t know how what’s-her-bucket taught slightly buzzed for months and no one noticed.” Grace mumbled under his breath. “Uh, let me try again. You’re a kid, not a star. Meaning you don’t have the mass to have whole planets get caught in your orbit. You don’t start world ending catastrophes. You’re not the reason I’m in space. Not like I’m upset in any way to have met you, but you’re just not why I’m here. The stars are.”
“Oh, uh, okay.” My eyes started stinging. Did… Grace not care?
“That being said, you’re my kid now. Rocky’d claim you too in a heart beat, or uh, whatever Erdian equivalent. So you got some solid sway on board, and we care deeply and will alter our personal orbits to work with your gravity, but not it’s just not on the magnitude of the stars. This is a good thing. We choose to work with you ‘cause we love you. While the stars started multi-planet armageddon. You, as much as I love you and you’re super important to me, just won't. You can’t, even if you tried. Yet you somehow got it in your mind that every terrible thing that’s ever happened in the history of always is somehow your fault. So, no, you’re not a star, Simon.” He paused for a moment. Grace snorted to himself, his arms dropped as he leaned back. “You’re my son, but not the sun. Get it?”
He’d done it again. I thought it was… I thought it had been a delirium thing last time. But… but he’d called me son again. My mother of course called me her son. She gave birth to me, so I was her son. Father had called me son as well, but he’d called everyone his son or daughter. I’d wanted it to be meaningful, I tried to think of it in the same warm way I remembered my mother calling me son, but… it just wasn’t. Hearing Grace now call me son twice painted Father’s claim over me in a new light. Father had always called me that to end a conversation, to get me to stop asking questions, to fall in line, to do my Calling. It always led to me bowing and clamming up. It was something he did that made me scared. I’d never realized that. I… wonder if that was on purpose. I hopefully would never get the chance to find out. On the other hand Grace calling me son was done after a long list of (misguided) compliments and now in a bad joke. It was so Grace it almost hurt. He’d said it so flippantly, there was no weight to it like when Father said it. Grace consistently made me whatever the opposite of scared was, and this was no different.
I half laughed, sat up and pawed at my eyes. “Yeah, I get it.”
“Good.” Grace… seemed worse for wear. Exhausted rings darkened his undereye. Pain wrinkled his forehead and pinched at his expression. His half smile was more of a grimace and his whole face was pale and clammy. He was slumped against the wall, his long legs stretched out in a lazy V. “‘Cause I dunno if I could keep explaining.”
“You should lay down.”
“Nah,” He rocked his head back and forth against the wall. “I’m sick of laying down.”
My stomach decided to do its best imitation of Eridian singing and gurgled and whined loudly.
Grace chuckled. “Ah, you know what, I’m hungry too. Let’s go eat.”
“I can go get you something.”
“A change of scenery would do us good, let’s go to the Lab.”
“I…” I swallowed. “Rocky’s in the Lab.”
“I know.” Grace slumped even further down, eyes sliding closed. “I’d like to see him.”
I chewed on my lip. “Okay.”
“Zero G might be the only way I’ll make it up there. If you could–”
I cut him off. “I made a system.”
Grace’s eyes snapped opened. “Huh?”
“Last time you woke up, you said you’d want to go… watch Rocky. And I since we’re low on fuel I didn’t know if we should–”
“Wait, since when are we low on fuel? What happened?” Grace sat up and hissed, holding his good hand over his chest, fingers tracing the edge of the bandages.
“No idea.” I guided him back against the wall. “But I checked, we’re not going to hit anything for weeks.”
“Oh,” Grace’s breaths had an odd rhythm, but it seemed to be helping. “That’s good I guess. Until I’m good enough to check on it, staying how we are is probably for the best.”
“Yeah, I thought that too.” I slid across the floor on my knees. I felt a bit like Pocahontas in her canoe as I used my arms like oars. I put the discarded plush in my lap and pushed myself back. “But I thought you’d be too injured to move yourself. Or m-might just get tired, or-or forget to set timers and miss a med dose until, until it was, um, all used up? And no offence, you’re way bigger than me. So I, uh, I-I made a system.”
I fiddled with two of the legs of the plush, ‘twiddling’ them like Grace had explained the orbiting motion he’d done with his thumbs. “I, I tested it. So it should work. But, I am smaller than you so, I don’t know. I could go just spin down the gravity. It’s probably a dumb idea. I’ll just go do that.” I stood but Grace lifted his not braced foot up to block my path.
“Hey, hey, did I say I was uninterested in seeing your system?”
“No.”
“Then show me.” He said with a smile. “If it doesn’t work this time maybe we can workshop it for next time. I have a feeling I’ll need help to travel back and forth for a while.”
“Okay.” I stand, rocking back and forth tucking the Rocky plush under my chin. “Armando’s going to need to help you get to the door. Armando? Help Grace please.”
The robot beeped and started towards Grace. I abruptly turned and left. I needed to make sure the chair pulley was in place. Armando could get Grace to the door.
I half listened to Grace’s uneven limping steps and pained grunts. Mentally coming up with alternative options for Grace to go from the hallway chair pulley to the medical cot. I rolled the short stool back and forth. Rope was tied tightly around the stem, close to where the five legs spread out. None of the wheels were locked or not twisting around smoothly. The rope was technically two ropes tied together into one large continuous loop. The tension was not too loose or too tight, to work it needed to be just right, and it seemed good. I’d worried that it would bind up, but the rope was moving pretty smoothly up and around the ladder rungs. It stretched past the chair at about chest height for Grace sitting down all the way to the other side of the hall. It turned back towards the floor around an attachment bar-bracket-thing for one of the pipes in the wall and then turned back to the stool where I’d threaded the rope through a metal ring that was attached to the wall near the floor.
“Oh, woh, you’ve been busy.” Grace panted, half slung over one of Armando’s arms, the others helping balance him on his functional yet shaking leg. I darted over and pushed the chair as close as I could get it to the doorway. It was just a little shy of what I’d hoped, but Grace was able to do a single awkward hop on one leg to make it. I could tell he didn’t mean to make the small whimper as he sat down.
“Sorry.” I slowly let the rope’s tension push Grace now in the stool back in position. “I’ll have to figure something out for that last bit.”
“We can definitely do that.” Grace said after he caught his breath. He lifted his arm up and pulled on the rope like it was a guitar string. It made a low hum. “So, show me how this works.”
“Hold this, please.” I handed Grace the Rocky plush. I duck under the rope and start pulling it back, hand over hand. Bit by bit Grace in the wheeled stool moved closer to the ladder. He had to hold onto the side of the stool, but he hadn’t fallen off, which I’d worried about.
“Hey, wait, I want to see if I can do it.” I nodded and let go. Grace spun around to face me and pulled with his good arm. He was able to pull the rope and move, but I could tell it still hurt. Grace chuckled, punctuating it with a cough. “Okay, I can do it, but I think I’ll only do it in a pinch. If you’d be willing to do the honors…” He mimed pulling on the rope. I started back up.
Once he was fully at the ladder I half jogged to join him. I ducked my head down into a half bow. “I could pull myself while sitting down. I even tried to make sure it would work both ways with just my right arm, but I… didn’t think about how it might still hurt. Sorry. I’ll fix it.”
“Nah,” He put a hand on my head and ruffled my hair. “It’s great. Super impressive that you not only came up with the idea but also made it and that it works flawlessly. And like I said I could do it, I’m just lazy and since you’re here and willing, I might as well be as lazy as I’d like.”
Grace was in no way lazy, but I’m pretty sure he was trying to joke or was flat out lying for some reason. Part of me wanted to call him out on it, but instead I just pressed my head closer into his hand.
“So, the next step I’m guessing involves your swing?” Grace reached out and shook the chain next to him. I tried not to cry as the word wish rang out. I nod, pointing up near the ledge to the Lab.
“The first wench.” I’d attached it using some bracket things that were already on the wall, I’d just needed to hunt down a wrench to detach and re-attach it to the wall, now with the wench snuggly held down under it. It’d been kind of scary to reach out and balance on my toes on the top rung of the ladder with my other foot stretched out almost into a split braced against a further bracket in the wall to reach the bolts I needed. I hadn’t fallen and it worked, so it was fine.
It took Grace a moment of staring up to finally have it click. “Ohhhh, nice. Very smart.”
I reached over to the pull string I’d made out of more rope that would pull the lever for the wench. “If you pull this it’ll start lifting the swing.”
Grace grabbed the base of the swing and transferred himself to it. The Rocky plush sitting in his lap, getting a gentle pat from Grace. “Is it going to also go mach five?”
“Sorry, I don’t know what that means.”
“Don’t worry about it, I can explain later if you want. Is it fast?”
I shook my head. “There was a gear thing I could spin on the back that could alter the speed it’d go. I set it for the slowest before bolting it to the wall.”
“Cool,” Grace pulled the rope and started creeping upwards. “So how will I go down, the wench I’m pretty sure only worked one way.”
“Pull the switch back up and sit on it. Me sitting on it slowly lowered it back to the ground, so it should work for you as well.”
“Wow,” Grace grinned down between his dangling feet. “You’re amazing, you know that? Thought of everything.”
I kicked at the floor and shrugged.
“Say “I’m amazing”, Simon.”
Blank faced I looked up at him. I parroted, “I’m amazing, Simon.”
Grace barked out a laugh that quickly turned into a coughing fit. “Don’t…. Inhale…. Ammonia…. It’s bad for… the lungs.” Grace finally was able to say between wheezing coughs.
I frowned. I didn’t like how often he was coughing, but it’s not like I could do much about it. Also inhaling ammonia would give someone a nasty cough. He’d seemed mostly fine when he had the mask on, though. Or at least better. Maybe leaving was a bad idea, however it was too late now. Grace was dead set on making it to the Lab. I followed Grace up the ladder and pointed to the hand hold. “Pull yourself to the ledge with that, and just around the corner I put the other rolly chair.”
Once Grace was sitting back down I handed him the tape covered wrench-ruler-thick wire hook contraption I’d made.
“What’s this for?” He twisted it around looking it over from all directions.
I pointed to the loose grid of rope I’d made throughout the Lab. It was just above head height for me, and every thirty to forty centimeters I’d tied a knot. “It’s a hook, hopefully you can pull yourself around better than the rope pulley. If not, I can just push the chair around.”
“I have no idea what I did to end up with you as my son, but man I’m sure glad I did it.” He grinned at me, reaching the tape hook thing and tried to pull me closer. I froze.
Grace had called me son a third time. The first time I could brush off as a drug induced fluke. The second time was maybe it was just for the joke. But three times? Grace… really meant it. He saw me not just as ‘his kid’-- which always warmed something in me when he’d called me that– but he really was claiming me. I’d called both of them family before and Rocky claimed us as Eridian ‘ohana’. I’d been pretty sure Grace saw us similarly, but he would tell Rocky he loved and hated him in the same breath. And he called his students ‘his kids’, too. Deep down I didn’t want to just be one of the many kids that Grace had taught. I was selfish. I wanted to be special.
And… maybe I was.
Grace tapped my shoulder with the hook thing again. His bloodshot eyes, half lidded as he half collapsed against the low back rest. I wasn’t really sure how much longer he’d be awake at this rate, so I decided to play along and stepped forward. I was pulled into a one armed hug. “You’re the best, Simon. And you’re so smart. I just wished I could make you see that too. Thank you for all of this.”
I shrugged. “I am unworthy of your thanks, but I am honored to be able to serve.”
Grace sat back and stared directly into my eyes for an uncomfortable amount of time. “No.”
I was baffled. “... no?”
“Yes, no.”
That… had not helped. I just tilted my head to the side.
“No more cult stuff.” He patted my cheek before turning to hook the rope above him. This seemed to hurt him less as he made his way to the nap nook.
“... Cult stuff?”
“Yeah, Eden BS. It makes you sad which then makes me sad and I think we’ve all had enough sad for a frickin’ lifetime. It also makes you think you’re not super awesome. Which news flash you’re the most awesome. Ergo, no more. You’re only allowed to say good or positive things about yourself from now on.”
“What?”
“Great starting place would be ‘Hi, I’m Simon and I’m like twelve year old max and made a whole system to help Grace around a frickin’ spaceship while he was injured ‘cause I’m just that nice, thoughtful, and helpful. And I made it all out of nothing but some random supplies lying around and my big huge brain.’”
“I’m not going to say that.” I cringed. That’d be Prideful. Which had never really been my sin of choice.
Grace stopped his hook-pulling to look at one of drawings I’d made him that he’d taped up on the Glass wall near the nap nook “Or you could go ‘I’m Simon, and I’m literally the coolest kid, whose great at drawing and made Grace cry with the sweetest hand drawn gifts ever made.”
I felt my face flush. “They’re just drawings.”
He tapped the tape hook just to the side of the taped up page. “And I love them.”
Now at Rocky’s airlock door, Grace pressed his hand over the glass. His eyes filled with tears, his voice shaky now. “Or you could say ‘I’m Simon and I’m strong and capable enough to keep going while both of my adults abandon me alone for days.” He leaned forward and pressed the unbandaged side of his forehead into the glass. Grace’s next words came out as a breathless whisper. “I’m so sorry.”
I fidget with the edge of my shirt. I couldn’t tell if the apology was to me or to Rocky. “It–it’s okay. You– you’re both resting.”
Forehead still against the glass, he turned to face me. His voice held a gentle sharpness to it. It was an odd tone, one I’d never heard from him before. “Simon, Rocky might be–”
“Fine. He’s fine.” I cut him off. “Or, well, not yet, but he will be fine.”
Grace’s cheeks streaked with tears and he sniffed. He shot me a wobbly smile. “I hope he’ll be okay, too.”
Grace’s stomach rumbled, which made him laugh, then cough. Wiping his eyes he spoke, “Alright, it’s really dinner time now. How ‘bout you fetch us each a bowl of ramen. It’ll be yummy, warm, and easy on the stomach.”
Nodding, I headed off to grab ramen for the two of us. I wanted to argue that I didn’t deserve the warm Sacraments, not after my failures. That the food should’ve never touched my lips in the first place, let alone repeatedly warm me from the inside day after day. Ignoring a direct order was wrong and fighting him while he was so obviously exhausted would be worse.
Also, if I was honest, I really didn’t want to eat another one of those nasty bars. Ramen was so much better.