Chapter Text
“I’m not an astronaut!”
Ryland emphasized while he slammed on his desk after each word. He knew he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t what the project needed.
“I don’t need an astronaut. I need an expert in astrophage who’s mission ready.” Stratt spoke flatly, no emotion leaking out. She never truly understood feelings, did she? Ryland still couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This mission needed someone trained. Someone who could handle the fate of the world on their back. That wasn’t him.
“I’m not ready.”
She emphasized why he was right for a replacement. He was here, he knew astrophage better than anyone, and he had ‘no immediate family’. But why would she say that? She should have more knowledge on him than most people, she was the government!
“You have three hours to decide.”
Ryland sat alone in thought for a long time. Grappling every inch of his emotions. He knew how important this mission was. What would happen if he didn’t go. How bad everything would become.
He could picture empty streets, full of beggars and fights, never peaceful. Half of the world’s population, gone, Stratt had said. Freezing temperatures, wars, and the entire world wondering why that teacher-turned-government-scientist had to be a chicken.
But then again, if he did go, he would probably never know what happened to him.
• • • • • •
His phone rang for the fifth time that night. If Colt had to hear from one more executive, he was going to jump off another building. He checked the screen.
Unknown Caller.
San Francisco, CA
Strange. Normally the unknown calls were from Burbank or LA. But, he didn’t have the time for any action. He was still recovering. Sure, it had been a year since the accident, but he still wasn’t ready. He had failed at his job. The one thing he was supposed to do right—fall—had failed. So, he was going to stay far away from it. Far from hurting himself and letting anyone down. Even if it meant ignoring absolutely everyone.
Call ended.
When Colt thought too much in his lonely home, faces flashed in his mind. Most he missed, others he was glad to see gone. Tom’s stupid smug grin every time he was on a magazine cover. Jody’s laugh when Colt made a bad joke. Other people he hadn’t seen in years, even before the accident. His mother’s soft eyes and her helpful nature. His dad’s stupid shaggy haircut that always made him look dumber than he really was. And then, there he was.
Ryland.
His twin brother never left his thoughts, at least not fully. Colt had always felt terrible for the distance. Frankly, he didn’t know where Ryland was or what he was doing right now. He had heard through a grape vine that Ryland gained his PhD in micro-something, but other than that, he knew zip. Colt wished he could find him, apologize, bring him back to his life. But for now, along with everyone else he had ever known, he was pushed away.
• • • • • •
“Mrs. Grace?”
Colt watched his mother stand up from the cold seat next to him, walking into the principal’s office for the third time that month. He could hear little bits of their conversation, from ‘troubled’ to ‘given patience’ and the recurring topic somehow: Ryland. He heard his brother’s name probably four times in two minutes. How Colt was affecting him, what this behavior could do to Ry’s learning, and a bunch more bullshit. Once more, even in a meeting about his behavior, all anyone ever talked about was Ry.
Don’t get him wrong, he loved his brother to pieces. It didn’t matter that Ryland was born two minutes earlier, that was Colt’s little brother. But for once, he would like people to consider his life too.
Colt watched silhouettes in the frosted glass as the principal gestured about and his mother stayed still, only moving to nod. She was used to the routine by now. Colt was a fighter. This wasn’t either of their first rodeo. Eventually, the two rose to shake hands. Colt braced for impact.
The office door creaked open in front of him.
“Colt, c’mon.” His mother called—voice cold—without looking him in the eye. As they got to the secretary’s desk, Ryland was already waiting for them.
The receptionist knew this routine, as well. Colt came into the office, his mother spoke with the principal, and Ryland went home with them. She lifted up the student sign-out sheet for Mrs. Grace. As the pen scribbled on paper, Colt met Ryland’s eyes. They could practically speak telepathically at this point. A few eyebrow raises and squints, and Ryland already knew that Colt socked someone in the jaw in the west hall bathroom. Colt didn’t plan on telling him who.
The car ride home was insufferable. Silence filled the SUV like tar—it was thick and suffocating. Ryland got the front seat, as Colt was the one in trouble. So, he spent the ride staring out the window while he listened to Dirty Little Secret quietly play on the car’s radio system. He would never admit it, but he loved that dumb song.
Eventually, his mother broke the silence. “So Colton, would you mind doing a bit more explaining as to what happened today?” He knew his mother was going to ask, but he let out a sigh of fear before talking.
“Just…punched a guy who was being stupid. That’s all.” Colt couldn’t look up.
Mrs. Grace peered at him through the rear view mirror. She was going to drag what she wanted to know out of him, and she already had some knowledge thanks to Principal Faulkner. “So, why Troy Irvine?”
Colt whipped his head towards his mother, eyes wide and brows to his hairline. Ryland moved with the same speed to meet his brother’s eyes.
“Colt, I told you to leave him alone! It was nothing, I swear!” Ryland half pleaded, half yelled to his twin. Their mother began making eyes at the two of them, connecting dots in her mind.
“Ry, who’s Troy? Did he do something to you?”
Ryland cut in as soon as the sentence was over, dragging his hands over his face, glasses dangling below him as per usual. “No–jeez, mom. You and Colt are acting the same way, like I can’t even stand up for myself!”
The other two silenced themselves, because frankly, they didn’t think he could. Even with his incredible mind, Ryland lacked the street smarts that his mother and brother shared. He was always the butt of a joke somewhere, and the two of them felt an innate need to protect him.
The rest of the ride was silent. They entered their house without a word. As the twins moved to their rooms, the phone rang. But, their mother reached it before they could, leaving them to lurk in the hallway to eavesdrop.
“Hello, Holly Grace speaking. Oh, hi dad. Yeah, they’re alright. Well…actually I just picked up Colt from school. Ok, yes, it was another fight. But I think he did it to protect Ry. Dad! I swear, I thought he was taking his death better than this. No, that would not help. But anyways, how is retirement?”
That’s when they stopped listening. Retirement was lame. But, the boys always loved hearing from their grandpa. Holland March was a strange man, but he was entertaining. The twins had listened to his private investigator stories for hours on end, talking about him and his partner, Jackson Healy, who ‘beat up people for money’. Ryland would roll his eyes while Colt would perk up to listen. Their grandpa would even include the ones with their mother—to which she tried saying they weren’t true.
Colt used his bed to hide, laying face down on the mattress as his brother picked up a book. Nerd.
“Please, Colt, don’t fight my battles for me.” Ryland spoke over the science novel while sitting on the edge of his bed, facing Colt as he rolled over. He hated that Ryland wanted him to just throw him to the wolves. That wasn’t what brothers did.
“I’m not just gonna watch you get beat up and mocked for the rest of my life!”
He placed the book down, fully engaging with his brother. “I’m not asking you to. Trust me, I hate getting beat up. I’m asking you to listen to my opinions on what you do with my life.”
They could only look into each other’s eyes. They were the same eyes—only one being covered by lenses—but they had different stories. Stories they could each read with a glance.
Ryland wanted to be independent. His family clung onto him, tried to be his bubble wrap, but he just wanted to be free.
Colt wished his mother paid more attention to him. His interests, his life. So, he found attention elsewhere. By protecting what she cared about.
Both of their gazes softened as they seemingly saw each other’s minds.
The two always understood each other better than anyone else could.
Colt jolted across the bed’s gap to hug his brother tight.
“Yuck, touching, stop.”
His arms let down immediately, looking over his identical twin.
“Shit, sorry.”
“Don’t say shit.”
That silence was more deafening than the one in the car. Ryland’s eyes jumped out as his face burned. Colt gasped as loud as a plane engine while a grin washed over him, wisping his hands over his brother's shoulders as if to grab them.
“YOU FINALLY SAID SHIT!”
• • • • • •
Ryland should’ve known what was coming when he walked into Stratt’s office. How sterile it felt. Her strange near-empathy. It was disturbing. Now, Ryland was running for his life from highly trained military personnel in a stupid yellow raincoat.
Each stride brought a new memory to light. Ones he used to power his drive. The picnic him, his brother, and his parents had gone on for the twins’ seventh birthday. The day his dad passed, watching his lifeless body hooked up to wires and covered in bandages. The last time he saw Colt, after their mother had her heart attack, where they did nothing but scream at each other. His classroom, full of kind, brilliant students who he would be leaving behind.
He realized, as he saw a fence in the distance, that Colt didn’t know. Even when he tried calling after his meeting, Colt didn’t answer. He could’ve expected that. After the accident, Colt shoved everyone he had away. And with their fight and an unknown number due to Ryland’s new government phone, Colt ignored him. The two hadn’t spoken in years, and now, Ryland would be sent off to space without ever hearing from his brother again. More tears dared to spill out. Switching back to survival mode, he did quick math in his head. If he got a high enough jump, he could make it over that fence. However, he was tackled before he could ever reach it, slamming his chest into the ground and temporarily taking the air from his lungs. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to wake up. This has to be a nightmare.
Through gasps, Ryland clung to the browning grass while tears streaked his face and sight. His breathing was ragged. This was it. He was going to die out in space. Die without ever telling his brother goodbye.
He cried out through his pain and waterworks. “No, please! I don’t want to die!” His voice cracked the whole time. He wanted someone to save him, and he thought of the only person who would.
“Colt! Please, Colton! Call him, tell him what you’re doing to me!” He sobbed and threw himself around, trying to fight the people shoving a needle toward his neck. They didn’t even flinch.
Ryland had to accept his fate at one point or another, and being pinned down and forced into a suicide mission seemed like the right time. The sun beamed down on him as if to mock him. The Earth looked so beautiful now, and Ryland couldn’t believe how much of it would be gone when he and the other astronauts found a solution. If they found one.
He saw Carl appear in his vision. He hoped Carl would listen.
“Carl, please, call Colt! Tell him about me!”
Ryland watched Carl’s face twist in confusion. His begging eyes had to be doing something.
“You’re gonna do great, kid. You know who you are”
“No, please, I don’t want–”
The needle sunk down in his neck, and the shining world began to blur.
“C…col..”
Ryland watched black creep into his peripherals as his probable last moments on Earth faded out of his grasp.