Archive of Our Own

Ryland was a scientist, okay? It was his passion and his job and his hobby all rolled into one, and while he would always be a teacher first, science was in his blood. Rocky was the same way; they both couldn't help themselves when it came to learning new things about each other's worlds.

Which, on Earth, he would have told his students was a good thing. Always be curious, always learn, all of that stuff that made his students roll his eyes at how often he'd say it.

However, he wasn't on Earth. He was in space with another scientist and a literal scientific anomaly who refused to talk about himself all on the same ship, and the curiosity was close to making Ryland sick. He wanted to run tests and ask questions and learn literally everything he possibly could about the planet out there somewhere with an ocean of blood, because that had to be one of the coolest scientific discoveries Ryland had ever been part of—besides, well, Rocky. And the Taumoeba. And maybe the Astrophage breeding cycle. Look, Ryland had been part of a lot of scientific discoveries over the last few years of his life, but that was besides the point.

The point was that it had been a week since Simon had showed up, unannounced and unexplained, and Ryland thought that if he went another day without being able to ask Simon about the things growing from his skin, he was going to lose his gosh-darn mind. He had asked Rocky not to mention it, because Rocky didn't really get Earth social cues, and he didn't want his friend making their guest uncomfortable.

Ryland probably should have known that was a futile effort, actually. Rocky was many, many things, but being good at polite human interaction wasn't really high on that list.

Simon had wandered into the lab, while Ryland and Rocky were performing the last few tests they needed to determine whether or not the Taumoeba would work as well as they needed it to in Rocky's atmosphere. They didn't necessarily have to run the tests, exactly, but Ryland wasn't going to take chances with his friend's sun dying.

Ryland had asked Simon earlier if he wanted to help, assuming that since he and Simon had enough in common, with them both being sent on suicide trips and all, that there was a good chance that Simon was a scientist, as well.

When Ryland had asked, though, Simon's eyes got wide and he just shook his head, backing away from the lab equipment. Which was fine. Ryland didn't really mind. He and Rocky didn't need help, even if it would have been amazing to be able to work with another scientist from an alien planet.

Ryland was trying his best to not be disappointed about having sent off the Beetles before Simon had shown up, even if it was probably for the best. The concept of alien life would be enough for Earth to work trough without dragging wormholes and alternate realities into the mix—even though they hadn't quite proved that theory yet.

Simon leaned against the wall, his hair pulled back into two slightly messy french braids that Ryland had done the night before. Ryland glanced up, gave Simon a quick smile, and went back to examining the sample of cells he had spread out on a slide. His glasses bumped up against the eye piece of the microscope and Ryland sighed, reaching up to adjust them for what felt like the thousandth time in a row.

He heard the familiar bonking sound of Rocky's Xenonite sphere rolling around behind him. Ryland wasn't too worried. Rocky knew what he was doing, and Simon barely even flinched anymore when Rocky accidentally startled him. Ryland guessed that something in Simon's past was what had made him so jumpy around Rocky; although maybe Ryland was the strange one for feeling more curiosity than fear the first time he had met alien life.

Dang. Ryland had somehow messed up the magnification. He fiddled around with it for a moment, switching it back to the way it had been and trying not to feel dumb for messing up one of the most basic laboratory skills out there.

His kids definitely would have teased him for that, if they were here. At the very least Ryland could blame it on the amnesia and not the basic forgetfulness he'd always had.

"Is Simon here to help question?"

Ryland didn't even turn around at Rocky's question, knowing Rocky's words were directed towards Simon. Ryland didn't know how he knew, exactly, but there was something in the tone and vibration of Rocky's words that he had been able to recognise.

Ryland was almost able to fully understand Rocky without the translator, but he had left it running for Simon. There was enough Simon had to learn. Ryland didn't think it was fair to make him pick up an entire new language on top of everything.

Simon made a noise in the back of his throat; it was an awkward attempt at the Eridian word for "no," and Ryland couldn't help himself from smiling. Communication!

"I'm just here to watch," Simon said, his words just the tiniest bit quieter than normal. Maybe most people wouldn't have noticed it, but Ryland could hear chords and translate them into words now, so….

He turned around, letting his glasses hang from one ear as he looked at Rocky and their guest.

"You good?"

Simon raised an eyebrow, looking at Ryland like the question was completely unwarranted. It could have been, but Simon looked a little…off, like his vocal tone. It showed how much more comfortable Ryland had gotten around him that his first thought was wondering why Simon was overwhelmed, and not if he was going to have an alien creature lay eggs in his brain.

Rocky spun around to face Ryland, moving around in the Xenonite ball like he did when he was excited.

"Simon here to watch! Watch Ryland work, like Rocky watch Simon sleep!"

Oh dear.

"I'm sorry, what the f—" Simon snapped his head to one side, glaring daggers at Rocky.

Ryland raised his hands, cutting Simon off mid-word with a glare at both of them. Rocky couldn't see the expression and Simon didn't seem fazed in the slightest, still glaring at Rocky without even acknowledging Ryland.

Ryland took a deep breath, rubbing his forehead. He was definitely smudging his glasses, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Okay. First off, Rocky, what did we say about consent?"

Rocky slumped a little, clacking his fingers together like he was thinking. Or fidgeting. Ryland wasn't completely sure.

"Ask humans what they want. Even if for human's safety."

Ryland nodded, giving Rocky a thumbs-up and grinning when he returned the gesture as best as he could. Simon was still glaring at Rocky with a mixture of anger, shock, and utter confusion. Ryland sighed, leaning against the lab table and giving up on what he had been doing.

"Eridians watch each other sleep, it's—"

Simon whipped his head up to glare at Ryland, one of his braids flipping over his shoulder. It was one of the first times Ryland had been pinned with the full intensity of Simon's gaze, but he held his ground anyway, looking steadily back at Simon. Simon jerked his head towards Rocky.

"It's screwed up is what it is."

Ryland sighed, taking his smudged glasses off and polishing them on his shirt as he spoke, keeping his voice even and calm in the hopes that it could keep Simon from panicking.

"It's for safety. An evolutionary necessity." He and Simon had been sleeping in the dormitory at similar times; Ryland should have thought about how if Rocky was watching him sleep, he'd probably be watching Simon as well. Whether or not Simon was actually comfortable with it.

"It's a culture thing," Ryland finished, like that would explain everything. He and Rocky had the unspoken agreement that the C-word—culture—was the final explanation for anything they didn't understand about each other.

Simon folded his arms, leaning against the wall and looking down at Rocky with an odd expression on his face.

"Still f—messed up." He glanced up at Ryland, smirking. "God damn schoolteachers."

"Rocky is sorry," Rocky said, the pitch of his voice low. He looked—well, not looked, but he angled his body towards Simon. "Should have asked before watching Simon."

Simon nodded, but most of his anger seemed to have vanished at the apology. Which was good; Ryland was getting more comfortable around the new arrival, but that didn't mean he wanted Simon to start yelling at Rocky or something, especially when it was just an unfortunate misunderstanding.

"That's okay," Simon said, letting the words hang in the air for a few seconds. It didn't seem like he had anything else to say, but Ryland wasn't sure, and—

"Simon is girl question?" Rocky tipped his body to one side like he did when he was curious. The colour drained from Simon's face.

"What?" Ryland and Simon asked in unison, their voices echoing in the lab as they both stared at Rocky in complete and utter shock.

Ryland folded his arms around himself, his mouth hanging slightly open, and Simon added a string of curses to the end of his question.

"Grace says humans different depending on how humans born. Not like Eridian." Rocky continued stubbornly, not backing down. "Simon has things Ryland does not have. In skin. Simon is girl question?"

Oh. Shoot.

Ryland coughed, doubling over and almost choking on nothing at all as Rocky stayed in that stupidly curious position, his body angled up towards Simon. Ryland gasped for breath, trying to choke out apologies to Simon as he half-laughed, half-cried, because he had no idea what else he could possibly do.

Simon cleared his throat, his face a bright red, and looked toward Ryland for help that wasn't coming, at least not until Ryland could get his breathing under control. Simon folded his arm across his chest, looking like he was trying to press the bandaged limb as close to himself as he possibly could.

"You think that the…things…in me mean that I'm a—girl?"

Rocky nodded, bouncing a little bit in his Xenonite ball.

"Is logical."

Ryland hated that, according to the information he had given Rocky, it kind of was logical. Breathtakingly wrong, but logical.

Simon took a deep breath, crouching down next to Rocky and slowly beginning to unwrap the bandages around his arm. Ryland immediately straightened up, staring at Simon, who was pointedly avoiding eye contact.

A part of Ryland was excited and wanted to run and grab a camera and a notebook and everything he needed to test whatever alien life had affected Simon's skin, but a much larger part of him was just…freaking out.

This felt weird, and wrong, especially after so many days of Simon trying to hide whatever was in his skin from Rocky and Grace.

Simon rolled up the bandage and placed it on the ground next to himself. He raised his arm and slowly shifted it in front of Rocky's ball, letting Rocky echolocate off it as Ryland reached behind himself, fumbling for a notebook.

Rocky didn't say anything. Ryland couldn't blame him. Simon's skin looked even more…unnatural than it had when it was soaked in blood, and that was saying something. Rough barnacles grew from the surface, the skin around them red and irritated, and thick veins crawled up around Simon's arm like vines creeping up the side of an old building. Thick scars that were just a shade too red crisscrossed over Simon's skin, pulsing with what Ryland could only assume was Simon's heartbeat.

It was horrifying, and unnatural, and Ryland couldn't help but absently run his hand down his own arm as he stared at Simon.

Gosh. Ryland itched to ask if he could study it closer, or collect a sample or something, but instead he just jotted down notes as quickly as he could in the notebook, ignoring the doodle of Rocky that was already in the corner of the page he was writing on.

"I got these…from an alien," Simon said, his voice unsteady. "Not a nice one, like you or Grace. A big, nasty, fu—" Simon glanced up at Ryland, a strained smile on his face. "Fish." Simon stood up, awkwardly tucking his arm up close to himself, and nudged Rocky's sphere with his foot. "Doesn't make me a girl."

"Understand," Rocky said, nodding, even though Ryland knew he'd…probably have to explain some things later. Simon cleared his throat and looked from Rocky to Ryland with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Well?"

Ryland pushed his glasses up with his wrist, setting the notebook beside himself. For some reason, no one had included "how to ask for permission to study an alien mutation" in the training he and Stratt had put together for the astronauts.

"Um," Ryland started, nervously adjusting his glasses again, "would you be okay if I…take a closer look at that? For science." And oh, gosh, that came out even worse than Ryland had been worried it would.

Simon paused, looking confused.

"You're not kicking me off the ship?"

Ryland opened his mouth, but Rocky beat him to it, tapping his foot against the Xenonite between him and the floor.

"Why go make Simon question? In space. Cold." Rocky waited a moment for emphasis—something he had learned from Ryland. "Simon stays statement."

Ryland nodded.

"Yeah. Most diseases take, like, three days to incubate, so if something was going to happen it would have by now." Dang. He sounded like Stratt. "Not that we would ever kick anyone off the Hail Mary!"

Simon looked so surprised that it was almost sad, in a way. Ryland would never say it to his face, but there was something so painful in the way Simon always seemed surprised by basic human courtesy; but he really couldn't blame him.

"But I'm not…." Simon paused, his voice sounding hollow. "I'm not human. Anymore."

Ryland took a deep breath, glancing over at Rocky. They both seemed equally lost.

"Well, um, neither is Rocky, so…."

Rocky nodded, excitedly rolling closer to Simon.

"And Grace is human but much more interesting! Humans boring. Simon not human. Interesting. Simon friend statement."

"Yeah, okay," Simon said, his voice low. He reached down, resting his mangled hand on top of Rocky's Xenonite enclosure. "I—okay, Grace. You can…do whatever science-y shit you were talking about, I guess."

Ryland couldn't help but notice the discomfort in Simon's voice. He hated the concept that Simon was only letting him study whatever had happened out of some sense of guilt or something, but the chance to get a good look at another alien life-form was just too exciting to pass up.

In a few minutes Simon was perched on a chair in the lab, his arm lying on the sleek metal table without any bandages as Ryland laid out the supplies he thought he might need. He got the feeling that this would be a job more suited to a doctor than a scientist, but he was pretty confident that he'd be able to handle it without accidentally hurting Simon.

Ryland picked up a cotton swab and Simon winced, looking like he was close to just squeezing his eyes shut and pretending Ryland wasn't there at all. Ryland stared for a few moments before clearing his throat and glancing down at Rocky, who was bumping his Xenonite sphere against Ryland's leg in what could only be reassurance.

"This is just a cotton swab," Ryland started, and Rocky chirped in agreement, distracting him for a brief moment. "It's just to see if there's anything on the surface, that's all, I'm not going to—" Ryland winced, shaking his head. "I'm not going to take any samples."

At that, Simon visibly relaxed, even though he didn't look even close to comfortable.

Ryland started working, doing the aforementioned "science-y stuff" and making himself go far slower than he wanted to, because Simon was still so tense and worried and Ryland didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable, even for the sake of science.

Who knew, maybe it was just the result of being chased down and drugged and shoved on a spaceship, but Ryland wasn't a huge fan of making people do things they didn't want to do, even "for the greater good."

Especially since the greater good in this situation was Ryland's own curiosity; he had already sent the Beetles away, and he wasn't going to send any more of his findings back to Earth, so it wasn't like learning about Simon would save humanity or anything.

Besides, maybe Simon would get a little more comfortable around himself if whatever had happened to him was looked at through a lens of science, and not…not whatever horror had made Simon so…Simon.

"So," Ryland started, not liking the way the word seemed to shatter the silence, "you're in the lab, is there anything you want to learn about? I've been teaching Rocky some things, it's no trouble at all."

Simon shook his head, glancing towards Rocky like he expected him to weigh in. Not an illogical assumption, all things considered. But after a moment of awkward silence, Simon cleared his throat and looked back at Grace.

"Um, no, that's…that's okay." Simon laughed, the sound short and clipped. "I'm not close to smart enough to understand any of this sh—stuff, thanks."

Ryland raised his eyebrows, looking at Simon from over the tops of his glasses at that. He was of the belief that science should be accessible for everyone, and if someone was struggling to understand something it was the teacher's job to explain it better, not the student's.

He was getting better at picking his battles, though. Ryland wasn't going to fight Simon on something so trivial, so instead he just went back to trying to get a clear read on the sample he was examining. Ryland was getting a sneaking, unwanted suspicion about what had happened to Simon, but he wasn't interested in jumping to conclusions. He wanted to be absolutely, completely sure.

"Why Simon in lab if not science question?"

Rocky's voice filtered through the translator, perched on the table, but Ryland could still hear the pitch and sway of his natural voice underneath the words. It was comforting. Grounding, almost. Especially when Ryland had to think of a way to explain the human desire for company to an alien, without making everything awkward.

"Sometimes when humans are alone for too long—"

Ryland was cut off by another short laugh from Simon, who shook his head and shifted a little to face Rocky better, cutting Ryland off mid-sentence.

"Nah. Sorry, Grace, but that's a f—that's a stupid thing to say. I was trapped alone on a submarine for days under an ocean, I'm pretty sure I'd be okay with a few hours by myself." Simon paused, glancing down at his arm. "It's just…the colours. Got to be too much. And it's less—overwhelming in here."

Ryland paused, stepping away from what he was doing and frowning, tipping his head to one side.

"Colours question?" He paused. Dang. Did Ryland just—

Simon and Rocky both started laughing, Simon's much lower and rougher than Rocky's high-pitched tones, but both made Ryland roll his eyes and bury his face in his hands.

"You try being on a ship with him for a month, and see if he isn't as bad an influence on you," Ryland said, the sound muffled by his hands. The words did absolutely nothing to stop Simon and Rocky from snickering, and Ryland sighed. He adjusted his glasses, rolling his eyes again, the movement exaggerated.

"Stop ganging up on me; you two are the worst."

Rocky rolled forward a few feet, and Ryland somehow knew that if he had a face he would have a stupid, smug smirk.

"Can't be worst if Grace came back."

Ryland's eyes widened. Of course the alien he was friends with would use Ryland saving him as a weapon in an argument. There really wasn't even anything Ryland could say, was there? Rocky was right, and he loved the idiot.

Instead of responding to his friend's bait, Ryland just turned to face Simon in an attempt to continue the previous conversation.

Simon winced, his fingers tapping against the top of the table.

"Um. Yeah. It's just…Hail Mary has a lot of colours. And it can get a bit—much. The lab is a lot calmer, and just generally…easier, I guess."

Ryland frowned, reaching up to adjust his glasses from where they had been knocked askew. Mary wasn't exactly dull; some psychologist Stratt had coerced into working on the project had said that if everything was too grey and bland the astronauts might get depressed. Like being sent on a suicide mission that the fate of humanity rested on wasn't enough to make someone a little bit down already; but no, they couldn't possibly send them without the occasional splash of colour—the horror.

But despite everything, Mary was a spaceship, and Stratt had more on her mind than the mental health of the people on it. Mary was…a lot less colourful than Earth, and Ryland had come to terms with the fact that he probably wouldn't be seeing anything brighter than the inside of the ship for the rest of his life. It was still strange to hear Simon describing it as not just colourful, but so colourful he was getting overwhelmed.

Gosh, Ryland wanted to ask Simon so many questions. He was a scientist! It was his job to learn and study and know as much as he could, so he could teach his students everything they needed or wanted to know. Ryland had to physically bite down on his tongue to keep from asking something bad or awkward. It hurt.

"If Grace and Simon see same things how too much for one question?"

Right. Well, if Rocky was going to ask the question for him, Ryland couldn't exactly complain. He was really, really curious, after all.

Even if it was a little unnerving to see exactly how quickly Simon's face fell as soon as Rocky had asked. Simon cleared his throat, taking his arm off the table and resting his hand in his lap.

"Humans can only see…whatever's in front of them. Not like you."

Ryland had explained the way Eridian vision had worked to Simon pretty early on, so that he didn't get as horrified as Ryland had the first time he figured out Rocky could see through walls. Ryland slowly leaned against a shelf, keeping his gaze on Simon.

Simon glanced up at Ryland, but quickly looked away when he made eye contact.

"Y'know how some things have less texture than others? Like how this table is smoother than the little figures you make?"

Rocky chirped in agreement, and Simon took a deep breath before continuing.

"Some…things are less coloured than others. And they look different. The submarine—and well, most things—weren't really that vibrant. And everything was—red. So coming here, it can be…a bit much. Like how if all you heard was sound bouncing off smooth things, than hearing all the different textures on something else would be strange."

Damn. Simon had explained that…really well. Maybe better than Ryland would have.

Also, gosh that was sad.

Ryland wasn't entirely sure what to do with the information that Simon had lived in such a colourless world that seeing more of the visible spectrum overwhelmed him. Maybe it wasn't as sad as knowing that Rocky would never see colours at all, but it was still not great.

There was a tense, awkward silence, and Ryland focused back on reality to see Simon staring down at the table, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Thank you for…sharing that, Simon." Well. Maybe if Ryland had been better with people he would have sounded less an underpaid guidance counsellor, but he couldn't really take the words back.

Simon looked up at Ryland and shrugged.

"Just answering the question."

"Thank! Explanation good good. Am learning," Rocky chirped, and Ryland's eyes widened. For someone who's entire language hinged on registering vocal tone, Rocky could be stunningly bad at hearing nuance in people's words.

Simon just chuckled, though, and shook his head.

"Learning, huh? You're almost as bad as the schoolteacher, Rocky." He glanced at the microscope behind Ryland and frowned, nodding towards it. "How am I doing, doc?"

Ryland didn't miss the tension in Simon's voice, or the way his already-faint smile faltered as he asked the question.

"Um…." Ryland wasn't sure how to explain his conclusions to Simon, not when Simon was looking at him with his emotions just barely hidden by his expression. He looked…expectant. And scared. And if the scariest alien Ryland had met looked scared….

Simon looked away, pulling his arm closer to himself.

"If it takes that long to find the words, I think I'm good not knowing." Simon took a deep, shaky breath, looking back up at Ryland and half-laughing out a curse word.

Rocky shook himself, moving closer to Simon and bumping against Simon's leg.

"Grace does sometimes. Forgets words. Like broken computer!" Rocky paused, and Ryland froze, somehow knowing what his friend was going to ask but not being able to stop it.

"What is—" Rocky broke off into a crude imitation of Simon's curse using his Eridian vocal chords, and Ryland groaned, rubbing his forehead as Rocky kept going. "—question?"

Simon glanced up at Ryland, the faintest trace of a smirk on his face. He gave Ryland a pointed look and Ryland shook his head, and Simon laughed before turning back to Rocky, a gleam in his eye that Ryland really, really didn't like.

"When two people love each other very—"

Ryland loudly cleared his throat, doing his best to glare daggers at Simon.

"So anyway, I'm not entirely sure how to interpret the results, Simon."

Simon's face fell and he shifted back, facing Ryland and looking like a kid waiting to hear back from the principal. Scared. And almost…angry. Ryland had gotten used to being glared at by people too nervous to not be angry, and it was probably one of the hardest things to work around.

"It's just…." Ryland took a deep breath. "Normal. As in, like, everything on its own is really close to Earth specimens, if they weren't…um…."

"In my skin." Simon sounded surprisingly calm at the information, almost resigned, like he knew where Ryland was going with his conclusion.

Normal skin. Normal barnacles. To an extent normal scars, if scars usually pulsed along with a heartbeat. A heartbeat that didn't match Simon's, but Ryland didn't want to think about that.

Ryland settled himself on one of the stools, resting his hands on the tabletop and trying to ignore the way Simon immediately broke eye contact with him.

"Thing is, if it isn't…if we don't know why it's there, we aren't going to be able to figure out how to make it go away. It isn't a disease or pathogen as far as I can tell, so we can't go from there, and—"

Simon frowned.

"You want to figure out how to get me back to the way I was before?"

Something in his vocal tone made Ryland pause. Huh. Ryland was going to have to be very careful throughout the next conversation, wasn't he.

"You don't?" Ryland's voice was quiet.

Simon shrugged.

"It's f—not great. But it's not the worst. Could be dead. Could be fully gone here," Simon said, tapping the side of his head. "Shit, Grace, I got eaten by the closest thing to a god I've even seen; there are a lot worse ways to come out the other side than with a few weird things growing out of me."

Ryland didn't know how to argue with that. He wasn't sure if he wanted to try.

"Well," he said, trying to keep his voice as neutral as he could, "if you ever change your mind, I'm sure Rocky and I can figure something out."

"I'm going to introduce you to the wonders of instant ramen," Grace said, messing around with something Simon couldn't quite see from where he was sitting on the floor.

Simon leaned back against that separated him from Rocky's side of the ship, watching Grace work with an odd feeling in his chest. Maybe Simon would have called it peace, if he was a sappy loser, but as it was he just ignored the sensation and focused on watching Grace work.

Simon had offered to help, but Grace had waved him away. Simon didn't mind, and he could tell when he wasn't wanted, and he had just gone to sit next to Rocky. Where he wouldn't get in Grace's way.

"I'm going to assume I'll find out what that is a few minutes, so I won't ask," Simon said, raising his rough voice just enough to let Grace hear him.

Grace turned to face him, his glasses hanging from one ear as he looked at Simon with a disarming grin.

"Basically one of the best foods ever if you make it properly," he said, looking down at the bright orange packet in his hands.

A lot of things still confused Simon about Grace's world, but he wasn't going to interrupt his host to ask meaningless questions about packaging materials, so he kept his mouth shut.

Rocky groaned from behind Simon and Grace laughed, raising his hand to vaguely point at Rocky.

"If you don't want to watch, you can leave. Humans share meals together sometimes, across like every culture, so calm down."

Rocky made a noise that sounded oddly close to a sigh and laid down, tucking his forearms underneath himself the way cats did in the videos Grace had shown Simon.

"Can't leave. Can hear whole spaceship. No point."

Simon smiled, shifting to look at Rocky better. He was almost more comfortable around the alien than he was around Grace; if he messed up with Rocky, Rocky'd just assume it was a human thing and move on. Besides, Simon preferred not having to look people in the eye as he talked, and Rocky was great for that.

"Hey, think of it as a learning experience! You and Grace are scientists, right? It's research on Grace's culture and practices."

Grace clapped from the other room, the sound muffled as he smacked one hand against the package he was holding in the other.

"Exactly! Science and discovery!"

Rocky shifted, his carapace making a rough, grating sound as he moved.

"Grace and Simon strange."

Simon glanced up at Grace, who just shrugged in response. Simon leaned his head back against the Xenonite barrier, staring up at the ceiling of the spaceship and trying to take a moment to process…well, everything, he guessed. It was…a lot. His missing arm ached, and Simon absently raised his hand to rub at the stump that was still there.

"Why Simon only have one arm question?"

Rocky's voice startled Simon and he spun to face the alien, letting his hand fall back to his lap. Somewhere behind Simon, Grace cleared his throat.

"Hey, buddy, let's not ask questions like that, okay?"

Hm. Normally, Simon wouldn't have even considered telling anyone something that wasn't absolutely necessary, but if it would annoy Grace…well, maybe that would make it worth it.

Simon hadn't missed the way Grace seemed to be determined not to ask Simon anything that could make him uncomfortable, because heaven forbid Simon feel even slightly awkward—but Simon didn't mind when Rocky asked things like that. It was oddly endearing.

"Got stuck to the side of the submarine. There was a lot of sh—stuff going on, so my memory's a bit foggy, but I ended up ripping my own arm off." Simon shrugged. "It hurt less than you'd expect." Or, well, maybe being eaten by a god was painful enough that in comparison everything else felt at least a little better.

Grace made a soft noise, and Simon very pointedly didn't turn to look at him. He wasn't sure if he'd see pity or disgust reflected on the other man's face. Either way, it was a lot easier to keep his body angled towards Rocky; no facial expressions to make Simon feel sick.

Rocky chirped, raising himself up on his front two legs. He looked almost…excited, which Simon hadn't expected. But he didn't really mind.

"We have Eridian like that!" The translator glitched a little as Rocky's voice raised in pitch, but it was still perfectly understandable. "Comes to Thrum. Very old. When young got caught under a rock and had to escape." Rocky chirped, a sound that the translator didn't register as a word. "Very brave. Like Simon."

Simon's eyes widened.

"Damn," he whispered. Brave. Simon definitely wasn't that. He had been welded into a submarine and shoved under an ocean; nothing he had done was brave. Necessary, sure, but there was a difference. Simon took a deep breath and shook his head, a few wispy hairs drifting down from his french braids and falling into his eyes.

"Not like me, buddy, but we can go ahead and blame that on the translator," Simon said, his voice oddly choked.

Simon wasn't like Rocky or Grace, he wasn't the kind of person to volunteer to go on some random space mission to try to stop the apocalypse, he…he didn't have a choice. Distantly, Simon wondered if the information he had recovered had actually been worth anything, or if the entire mission had been for nothing. If Ava's death had been for nothing.

Grace settled himself on the floor beside Simon, snapping Simon out of his own mind. Grace handed Simon an odd-looking bowl filled with…some kind of steamy broth and noodles, and a fork. Grace adjusted his glasses and gave Simon a completely unreadable look, curling his own hands around the bowl of ramen in his hands.

"I said the same thing." Grace winced, raising his cup and taking a short sip of the broth, earning him a groan from Rocky. "If its any consolation. Which it probably isn't. I should stop talking." Unlike almost every other time Simon had heard Grace say that, he actually did shut up after the words. Grace stared down at the bowl of noodles in his hands, the steam fogging his glasses. It didn't seem to bother him.

Simon rolled his eyes. Right. Except Grace actually was brave, from everything Simon had heard, and he was just being humble. God. Sometimes it was frustrating, how much of a good person Grace was—it made Simon want to scream every now and then, because he was just so…noble, and humble, and god-damn self sacrificing, and it was enough to make a coward like Simon sick.

He looked down at the bowl in his hand and frowned, immediately seeing the problem with trying to eat the noodles one-handed. It was a pretty simple thing when there was a table he could rest his dish on, but he wasn't going to inconvenience Grace by making them both move.

Instead, Simon perched the bowl on his knee, his legs crisscrossed, and decided to just not move until he was finished eating.

Simon took a small, tentative bite of the noodles, being a little more careful than was probably needed. Grace hadn't poisoned him yet, and it was looking like he never would, but Simon was still a little paranoid.

Simon paused. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about the soup, actually. It was good, but it was just salty enough to make Simon's mouth taste like blood. Which he didn't like. At all. But other than that, the ramen tasted okay, and it was warm and comforting.

Simon's previous experience with soups had been the kind where whoever was making it had taken whatever scraps they could find and boiled them together until there was a slightly better chance of not getting food poisoning. This was way better than that.

Rocky made a noise of complaint and Grace sighed, reaching over to rest one of his hands against the clear wall between him and Rocky.

"You're fine, buddy."

Rocky reached up with one clawed hand to tap against the wall on the other side of Grace, Rocky somehow managing to look annoyed without a face. It was something in the way he held himself, and Simon couldn't help himself from grinning.

There was an awkward silence, broken only by the gentle noise of their forks against the sides of their dishes as Simon and Grace ate. For some reason, Simon felt guilty that they weren't talking; maybe it was because Grace had described shared meals to Rocky like a family all sitting around a table happily chatting. That specific example was something that Simon had heard about, but he didn't want Grace to feel like he was ignoring Grace's traditions. Whatever they were.

Except Simon was horrible at starting conversations. Like, truly horrible. He never knew what to say or what to ask or how to keep people happy; he was a murderer, not a politician. Although those lines could blur, actually. He glanced at Grace, just to make sure that he wasn't glaring at Simon, and noticed a thin line of paler skin around Grace's ring finger.

Simon's eyes widened, and he nodded towards the mark.

"Are you married?"

Grace snapped his head up, saw where Simon was looking, and laughed. He shook his head, raising his hand up to the light and letting Simon see the mark more clearly.

"Nah. Not really for me, that's just a scar. Funny place to be, guess I never considered that."

Simon winced, but Grace didn't seem to mind in the slightest. He just took another bite of his noodles, pausing for a few seconds before clearing his throat and tilting his head to one side.

"You?"

Simon paused at the question, his mind struggling to keep up with what Grace was actually asking. It was an odd thing to ask, because of course Simon didn't have a—partner, or anything like that. He shook his head, mirroring Grace's earlier movement with a grin.

"Never had time or inclination, I guess. Besides, it'd be pretty f—screwed up to bring a kid into the world I came from, even if that was something I wanted." Which it absolutely, one hundred percent was not. And even if it was, no one would ever see him as anything other than a murderer. A threat to be taken care of.

Grace nodded, like he completely understood, and Simon paused. He had…the few times he had ever said something like that, he had immediately gotten strange looks for it, and to see Grace just completely accept never wanting a relationship in that way felt very, very odd, in a way Simon couldn't place. Grace gave Simon a smile.

"Same here. Rocky's married, though." Grace looked like he was about to correct himself and explain the exact differences between human and Eridian marriage, but luckily Rocky interrupted him before he could.

"Yes yes yes!" Rocky was so enthusiastic that Simon couldn't help himself from smiling. Rocky nodded, speaking so quickly that the translator struggled to keep up. "Name is Adrian! Smart and beautiful and strong and brave and nice and perfect perfect perfect!"

Simon coughed, glancing at Grace, who sighed, smiling.

"This happens a lot."

Rocky tapped one of his claws against the floor, making a clicking noise that Simon could only interpret as disapproval.

"Why would Rocky not talk about mate question? Adrian is best."

Grace set his bowl to one side and raised his hands in surrender, laughing a little as Rocky stayed in a defensive position.

"I'm sure they are."

Simon nodded, even though he wasn't entirely sure how precise Rocky's echolocation was. He might not even be able to see the movement, but Simon wasn't sure. He wasn't going to risk not agreeing with Rocky on something he was so obviously passionate about, even if this was his first time hearing about Adrian that wasn't just an off-handed mention of the name.

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Rocky tapped his claw against the floor.

"Rocky misses Adrian," he said, the tones behind the translator quieter than normal.

Simon quickly ducked his head, staring down at the floor. That was definitely not a conversation he wanted to be a part of; Grace was an idiot, sure, but he was far more capable at talking to people than Simon would ever be.

Sure enough, Grace tipped his head to one side, an impossibly gentle expression on his face as he asked Rocky what his favourite memory with Adrian was.

Simon almost laughed at how perfect Grace was. He always knew what to say and what to do, and Rocky immediately perked up at the question. He answered Grace's question with a somewhat long, rambling story about realising he was in love with Adrian, and Simon and Grace both moved a little closer to Rocky, listening intently.

"Hey."

Simon jerked his head up from the book Grace had loaned to him, instinctively shifting his grip on the book just in case he needed to use it as an impromptu weapon. Eden had taught him how to read, yes, but they had also taught Simon to always react quickly. Which was, for all intents and purposes, a much more valuable skill.

It was Grace. Of course it was Grace. Simon probably shouldn't have immediately gotten ready to attack whoever was there; Simon was stuck on a spaceship with two other people, and if someone came up to him without rolling around in a Xenonite ball, it would have to be Grace. Simon set the book down, raising his hand to awkwardly wave at the man standing a little ways away.

"Hey."

Simon was perched near the window of the Hail Mary, because it was one of the places he could be sure he wouldn't get in Grace or Rocky's way. He tried to ignore the way it felt like the stars were watching him, or how if he glanced behind him he could almost see blood dripping down the outside of the window.

He wasn't there anymore. These stars were alive, and this window wasn't his only way to see his last glimpse of people before he died. It was different. Simon still felt a little uneasy, though.

Grace settled himself down about metre away from Simon, shifting his glasses to hang from one side of his face. Every time he did that, Simon found himself waiting for the delicate lenses to fall and shatter on the ground. They never did.

"So," Grace started, the word dipping down in pitch at the end, "Rocky thinks he might know how you got onto the Hail Mary."

Simon tucked a stray piece of hair that had fallen out of his twin braids behind his ear. Ever since Grace had offered to braid his hair up, Simon had realised how little he liked the stray strands that hung into his eyes.

"Yeah?" In all honesty, Simon didn't really care all that much. He was dead, and then he wasn't, and that was the extent of what he needed to know. But Grace loved explaining science or whatever, and Simon wasn't going to tell him to shut up.

Grace nodded, his expression obnoxiously cheerful as he leaned forward, picking the book up from where Simon had left it open on the ground. He bookmarked the page Simon had been reading with a scrap of fabric, and then closed the book and set it back next to Simon.

"He took a bunch of readings while I was—" Grace paused, glancing away for a single moment. "After you showed up."

Simon knew what Grace had been about to say. Rocky had been doing whatever science stuff he needed to figure out his theory while Grace was cleaning up the blood that Simon had gotten all over the spaceship. Right.

"Anyway," Grace continued with a smile that was a little bit more forced, now, "I've been helping him figure it out for a bit. We're pretty sure that, um.…" Grace shrugged. "Don't think we're crazy, but our going theory is that there was a transient inter-dimensional wormhole or Einstein-Rosen Bridge from your universe—or dimension, we aren't sure—to Mary."

Simon blinked.

"What?"

Grace paused for a moment, and then cleared his throat.

"Right. Sorry. Um…." He trailed off for a moment, and then pulled a little blue and green ball from his pocket, holding it up in one hand.

"Imagine that this is you."

Simon shook his head.

"I'm not doing that."

Grace continued on, completely ignoring Simon. He cupped his free hand a little ways under the yarn-thing, giving Simon a smile.

"If my hand holding Earth is your universe, a wormhole is basically a theoretical way for it to get from your universe—" Grace dropped what he was holding, catching it in his other hand. "—to mine." He tucked it away, grinning.

Simon nodded slowly. What Grace was talking about made about as much sense as the stars dying all at once or a giant rock spider talking to him, and considering the circumstances Simon was more than happy to accept what Grace said as fact. Grace was the scientist, after all.

Simon wasn't sure he had needed the puppet show to understand, but Grace was like that.

"Okay. Why?" Why him and not—Ava, or someone else from a completely different universe?

Grace frowned.

"We don't know." He laughed, the sound strained and awkward, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe because of the whole being-sent-on-suicide-missions-against-our-will thing, the Universe shoved us together."

Simon shifted, tilting his head to one side.

"Our?" Grace couldn't have meant that, because surely his world wouldn't have….

Grace nodded, picking at a loose threat on the hem of his shirt. Simon noticed that for the first time, Grace looked truly uncomfortable, and not because he was in a pool of blood or an awkward situation. Simon regretted asking. But Grace just lifted his head, with a slightly distant look in his eye, and looked out the window behind Simon.

"I didn't want to be here. My—uh, the woman in charge of the project, Stratt, didn't…give me a choice." Grace swallowed, started to say something else, and then closed his mouth.

And Simon understood. Perfectly.

Grace was uncomfortable because he was a coward, forced to save a world he didn't want to. He was uncomfortable because he had lived past when he had known he was going to die, and what would he even do after that?

How could he live a normal life with the knowledge that not only had you fought against saving humanity, you weren't even the sacrificial hero they had intended? Yeah. Simon understood.

"If it helps," Simon said, his voice rough and low and strained, "I think you're pretty damn heroic regardless. Or whatever."

Grace smiled.

"Thank you, Simon."

Like always, hearing someone say his own name startled Simon, an odd feeling filling his chest and squeezing his lungs. It was…nice. He rolled his eyes.

Grace raised his fist.

Simon's vision went white and his heart hammered in his chest and he reacted before he could think and in less than a moment he had Grace pinned to the floor, his hand already at Grace's throat.

Grace stared up at him with an expression of utter horror, his breathing too quick, a tiny crack in one of his glasses' lenses that hadn't been there before catching the light. Simon's hair fell into his eyes, tiny pieces that had fallen out of the braids forming a wispy screen in front of his face.

Simon tried to squeeze, tried to cut off Grace's airway, tried to crush and hurt and kill like he had done thousands of times before, but he—couldn't.

Panic ripped at Simon's lungs and he was frozen in place, unable to move as he heard the thumping of Rocky's Xenonite ball getting closer. He was going to die. He was going to die, because Simon couldn't bring himself to hurt Grace, even after Grace had—

Rocky rolled into the room, talking in a series of high-pitched, panicked chirps, the translator too far away to turn the words into an understandable language.

Simon scrambled away from Grace, pressing himself against the cold glass separating him from the void. He took a deep breath, forcing the fear out of his lungs.

Simon lifted his head to look directly at Grace. A silent question. What are you going to do?

Grace propped himself up on one arm, his face pale, and lifted his glasses into place. He didn't seem to notice the broken lens. Grace rested one hand on Rocky's Xenonite, whispering something Simon couldn't hear through the buzzing in his ears.

He turned to look at Simon, looking at him over those stupid glasses, like he was waiting for Simon to explain himself. Simon wasn't a child. He wasn't going to apologise to Grace like a kid who had gotten into a fight after school; he was a murder, he was a horrible, irredeemable person, and Grace should have known that.

Grace frowned, glancing away from Simon.

"I would prefer for that to not happen again." His voice was calm, only slightly tense. Not yelling. Not fearful. Not reacting at all like he should have.

Simon didn't flinch.

"Sure. Don't try to hit me, then."

Grace blinked.

"What? Hit—Simon, that's—" Grace sighed, adjusting his glasses and looking at Rocky for help. Rocky just shrugged, as much as someone who didn't really have shoulders could shrug.

Simon didn't back down. He rarely did.

Grace glanced around the spaceship, like there was something that could help him in some unfathomable way, but he ended up just clearing his throat and adjusting his glasses again.

"It's—um, it's something humans do—where I'm from. When people are excited, or…happy, or for, um, comradery, depending. It's not—it's not violent." Grace rested his fist against Rocky's Xenonite ball, and Rocky reached up, his claws curled together, and pressed his hand against Grace's.

Grace gave Simon a strained smile.

"See?"

Rocky spoke in Eridian, a low, buzzing melody that set Simon's teeth on edge, even as short as it was. Grace shook his head, nudging Rocky's sphere with his foot.

"Nope. Fist bump, buddy, they're different things."

Simon took a deep breath, staring at Grace. Grace turned to face him, his blond hair catching the light, and Simon ducked his head.

"I—sorry." Simon's voice cracked, and he winced. "Shouldn't have done that." Simon exhaled, long and slow, and lifted his head to stare up at the ceiling. He whispered a curse. "Sorry."

Grace nervously tapped his fingers against the side of his leg, his other hand still resting against Rocky like he needed the support.

"I'm not going to hurt you, okay? Maybe just…ask before, y'know, shoving me to the ground?" Before Simon had a chance to reply, Grace nodded to the loose hair that had fallen out of his braids. "I can—I can redo those, if you'd like."

Simon nodded. He would like that. Very much.