Archive of Our Own

It takes Ryland Grace exactly five seconds after meeting Eva Stratt to find her incredibly, devastatingly attractive, because, well, come on - he’s got eyes. And maybe a penchant for scary, intelligent, very intimidating women. He likes her immediately (the entire ‘come with us and get in the box of argon to study an alien life-form unless you want to be mind-wiped, if you please’ thing notwithstanding). She leaves him with three dots and a Carl (who’s awesome), swans off to do Important Task Force Leader business, and he doesn’t see her again until he becomes the first person in the entire world to successfully breed Astrophage.

After that, a couple of things happen in very quick succession:

• He’s flown onto an aircraft carrier via a fighter jet, which has him throwing up into a traffic cone like he’s nineteen years old in college again;
  
  
• He’s given top-secret clearance about a project which involves sending three astronauts to a star that’s twelve light years away, just to see ‘what’s up’;
  
  
• He gets a little tipsy during one of the crew’s birthday celebrations a couple of weeks later, and teases Stratt when he realises she’s a little bit tipsy too, and she rolls her eyes, and says something that makes him laugh, which his brain just cannot recall in the morning;
  
  
• By the by, they somehow end up in her bed (and he has no idea how that happens either);
  
  
• And then suddenly it’s been three months since the Vat became his permanent residence, and by day he’s spending all of his time in the lab with the other scientists on the mission, and by (every) night he’s sleeping with the boss, a casual arrangement to help her blow off steam (which by God, she is clearly very much in need of).

So. That’s his life now.

No biggie, right?

Six months after they first hook up, Eva calls him into her office at SVT (Stratt’s Vat Time) 1100 hours, tells him to close the door and sit down. Ryland plops into the directed chair and pats his knees nervously, thinks about the delays they’ve been facing with the centrifuge, and braces himself for a laundry list of critical feedback on What The Lab Team Needs To Do A Lot Faster, Please.

Instead, she says: "I took a few tests this morning, on a suspicion that I have had for some time." And then, blindsiding him with two words, the equivalent of a brick to the face: "I’m pregnant.” 

Okay, Ryland thinks, faintly, his ears ringing. So this might be a bit more of a biggie.

“Before we go any further,” Ryland says, once he’s had a very long drink of water and slowed his heart rate enough to actually make coherent sentences with his mouth. “How exactly did this even - we used protection, didn’t we?” Oh God, his mind is racing back now, thinking about every time they had sex (which was… a lot; he flushes hot and skips past that as quickly as he can) - surely they played it safe? This is Eva Stratt they’re talking about, after all. She sighs, shrugging. “Yes, of course. But you know as well as I do that no form of contraception is a hundred percent effective. I suppose a condom broke; it certainly wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Do you know how far along you are?”

“No. That would require speaking to the medical staff, and I wanted to talk to you about it first.” She scrubs a hand over her face, looking tired. “That is why I called you in here - to talk about our next steps.”

“Right, of course. Uh.” Ryland pulls his lower lip between his teeth, face burning from the awkwardness, not knowing what to do to make the situation more bearable. “Are you… going to keep it?”

A very long pause where she drums her fingers against her desk. “I’m not sure yet,” she finally says. “There are pros and cons for both options. Logically, in the bigger scheme of things, getting an abortion would be the smartest route to take. It would functionally bring things back to the status quo, which is important, considering how much uncertainty we are already dealing with, and even more so in the coming months and years.”

“If that’s what you want, you have my full support,” Ryland quickly says, but she holds up a hand to halt him. “Thank you. I wasn’t finished.” He obediently shuts his mouth again. “That said. There are… potential positives about the other option that are making me seriously considering take it.”

Ryland asks, just a little bit wary of the tone she’s using, which is the same one she takes in conversations regarding resource allocation and supply chains: “Such… as?”

“Optics,” she says. “People like children, generally speaking, and they represent the future. People will see a child as symbolic of my belief - our belief - in the Hail Mary, in saving the Sun, in a liveable planet over the coming decades. To some level, people also venerate mothers. I know very well the kind of chatter that exists about some of the more controversial actions I am taking in service of the greater good - I believe that people would view them through a very different lens if or when they discover that I have a child. Thinking ahead, it might even save me from future prosecution for whatever crimes I might need to commit. Beyond that - people also underestimate mothers. I can absolutely visualise a scenario where some fool believes that motherhood will ‘soften my edge’ or make me weak, and how I would be able to use that to our advantage. There are possibilities.”

Ryland says, very slowly: “You want to have a baby because it’s strategic?”

Eva says, very simply: “Yes.”

Ryland exhales deliberately, pushing the air out from between his teeth. “Okay, uh,” he starts, trying to string his words together so that they make sense, so she doesn’t lose her patience and throw him out. “First things first, I stand by what I said - no matter what you choose, you will have my support; it’s up to you. But I’m sorry, I can’t in good conscience just - sit on that ‘strategic’ thing, okay? I - Stratt, I was a teacher for years, and yeah, it was in a good school, in a great area of San Francisco, and most of my kids came from happy homes with loving families, but most isn’t all, and it’s always a lot less than you think.” He twists his fingers together, forcing himself to meet her gaze. “I’ve seen way too many children suffer because their parents simply don’t care about them. It doesn’t even have to be abusive, just neglectful, just - clearly not loving their children unconditionally, and that kind of thing leaves lifelong wounds, even if people can’t see them. It’s not fair. Kids deserve to be loved.” That old ache in his heart softens his words. “Even more so with the crisis that we’re dealing with right now. If we’re going to bring a child into a world that might soon die, they deserve to live a life, however short, that’s filled with love. Not just pragmatism.”

He shuts up there, feeling flushed from top to toe, and waits squirming in agonising silence as Eva processes everything he said. Feeling very relieved when she eventually replies, quiet and thoughtful: “Thank you, Doctor Grace. That was important for me to hear. You are, of course, correct.” She closes her eyes, rests her forehead against her hands. Her voice sounds different when she speaks again, holding a note that seems to come from deeper within her, a place she’s shut away in order to put Earth first. “Would you still believe me now if I said that, despite everything I mentioned about optics - when I saw the results of the tests, when I let myself consider keeping the baby - the first reason that came into my mind was simply my heart saying: I want it?” She inhales a shuddering breath. “I just did not think I could let myself feel that way. It is stupid and selfish and goes against everything I promised when I agreed to lead this project.”

“You’re not a liar, Eva,” says Ryland. “Yes, I believe you. And - look, you’re not just Director Stratt, okay? You are allowed to want things for yourself, even at the end of the world.”

She laughs quietly. “And you, Doctor Grace? What do you want?”

“It’s your body, Stratt. It’s not up to me.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She holds his gaze, unwavering. “If I keep this baby - what will you do?”

He blinks, stunned. He hadn’t even realised that was a question, a concern, in her mind. “Be responsible for it, of course. With you, I mean - not - not as in a relationship, or - I’m not saying we’d go full Victorian and have a shotgun wedding or something, I just mean - “ He stammers, feeling like an idiot. “I’d be whatever you need me to be. I’d co-parent, if you want, work it out. I mean, God, Stratt, I’m not just going to run away. That would be a terrible thing to do.”

She looks at him, long and searching; eventually, she nods. “All right. I am on board with that arrangement. We will continue our professional relationship, and if you are comfortable with it, I would like to be transparent with the rest of the crew about our situation, so that everything is clear and above board, and we don’t have unfounded rumours spreading around the ship.”

He’s pretty sure that’s going to happen anyway, but he sees her point. “Yeah, that’s fine. Like I said, anything you need.”

She extends her hand for him to shake. “Co-parents to be, then,” she says, with a tiny smile on her face; he shakes firmly, pushing away the odd little flip in his chest. “Co-parents it is.”

Eva honest-to-God circulates a memo summarising the ‘situation’ the next morning, as if it were an update on office logistics. Ryland’s almost relieved that she allows him to accompany her to her appointment with the medical staff instead of turning up for his usual lab shift; maybe by the time he goes in an hour later they’ll have gotten all the shock and gleeful gossip out of their systems (probably not, but a man can hope). He is also very relieved that their resident gynaecological specialist is Lin, the only person on the ship to rival Eva in stone cold seriousness. She takes Eva’s announcement with zero change in the expression on her face. “All right, we’ll do a dating scan for you, and then conduct some screening tests. You can lie on that table over there - I will be with you in a moment.”

“What’s a dating scan?” Ryland whispers to Eva, clearly not quietly enough. Lin walks back over with an assistant, answering flatly: “It’s an scan conducted early on in the first trimester which allows us to identify the estimated due date - hence the term ‘dating scan’ - and check if there are any complications with the foetus.” She gestures for Eva to roll up her top so her assistant can apply gel to her stomach. “This is your first pregnancy, correct?”

“Yes,” Eva confirms. Lin continues, “I will explain what we are doing for clarity, then. This procedure will involve an obstetric ultrasound and a vaginal scan. That will allow us to capture the clearest images of your uterus and the foetus. We’ll start with the ultrasound.” She peers at Ryland over her glasses, clearly unimpressed with his nervous fidgeting. “Doctor Grace will remain with you throughout?”

“Um, if she’s okay with that,” Ryland mumbles. “Or do you want some privacy…?”

“You have seen me naked, Grace,” Eva says blandly. “Privacy went out of the window a while ago. Stay, please.”

Lin’s poker face is terrific; her assistant’s, much less so. Ryland studiously avoids looking at them in favour of taking the offered chair beside the bed and keeping his eyes glued on the screen as the ultrasound begins. Lin moves the probe over Eva’s stomach, and at first it’s all just incomprehensible fuzzy grey, until she stops and gestures to a curved shape amidst the static. “There we are - a first look at your child. Right where they should be, looking well. Congratulations, Director Stratt.”

Ryland’s heart swoops into his stomach, his mouth going dry, unable to tear his eyes away from the grainy image. “Oh,” he breathes; his fingers tremble where he grips the bed, as he leans forward to get a better look. Oh, man. It suddenly feels real - an actual baby, growing and changing in Eva’s womb - he swallows, rapidly blinking back his tears. She’d never let him live it down if he actually started crying.

Not that she’s looking at him, also focused on the screen - her gaze softer than he’s ever seen it, her lips curving up at the edges. On impulse, Ryland reaches for her hand and squeezes, once - then feels her go still for a second and immediately wishes he hadn’t. He opens his mouth to apologise, then shuts it when she carefully squeezes back, just once, and lets go. “Thank you, Doctor Lin,” Eva says. “How many weeks?”

“Eleven, it looks like. Which also means we should conduct some blood tests for you. We can also conduct an additional screening for chromosomal abnormalities at this stage, if you so choose.”

“Yes, please.” Lin continues providing more details to Eva about the tests, but it’s hard for Ryland to hear her any more, over the rush of blood in his head. Eleven weeks - almost three months of walking around the ship, going about their daily lives, meeting Eva for updates and for occasional meals with the rest of the crew and for sex, not knowing, not realising the existence of a little life taking root inside her.

It feels like such a stupid cliche, but it’s true, regardless - Ryland sits there, by Eva’s side, and feels his life begin anew.

Even the gossiping can’t really touch him after that, not when he’s holding a printed photo of the ultrasound - one copy for Eva, one copy for him. And as much as the entire crew is exploding with things to say between themselves, they’re intimidated enough by and/or respectful enough of Eva that they don’t make a huge fuss of it in the common areas. She gets a few nods and genuine ‘congratulations!’; he receives a couple more winks, rounds of applause, and cheers. Eva rolls her eyes, leading him to a table at the corner of the mess. “Ignore them; we have important things to discuss, and I only have thirty minutes to do that and take lunch before my next meeting.”

“Yep, got it,” Ryland says, hurriedly (but carefully) folding the ultrasound photo and tucking it into his jacket pocket. “What do we need to - “

Eva opens her notepad and turns it around to show him a page full of neatly written numbers and notes. “Here are the dates and times of my next few scans. Please note them down and keep them in mind. I will inform the lab team well in advance that you will be away with me, and not to schedule you for key tests and experiments.”

“Oh! Right.” Ryland scrambles for his own pen and notebook to copy them down. “Okay, I’ll be there.” It’s hard to suppress his smile, still riding on the high of that first scan, and now knowing she wants him there with her, wants him involved, which makes things even better. When he looks up, she’s smiling too. “You are certainly excited about this.”

“Honestly, I am,” Ryland says, a little shy. “I didn’t think I would be, not this much, but - wow. I mean, it just - it feels real now. It’s a lot.”

“It is ‘a lot’,” Eva agrees. “It will be an interesting experience.” She tucks her notebook away, still smiling. “Thank you, Doctor Grace,” she adds, her parting words. “I’m glad that it is you I will be sharing it with.”

Yeah, that’s totally not going to do bad things to his heart. “You’re welcome, Director Stratt. Me too.”

Eva is almost immediately proven right about optics. Once the news gets around, even before she starts to show, people start treating her differently. It varies - she gets more and less respect, patience, understanding, depending on who she’s talking to. Ryland sits in on one meeting with representatives from England and spends the entire time wishing he could throttle one specific idiot who keeps making underhand jabs about pregnant women belonging at home - she has a Master’s degree, worked for the ESA, and is leading an international task force that will save everyone’s lives, he wants to yell. Not to mention the Sun is literally being devoured by aliens, for fudge’s sake! How do you still have time to be misogynistic?!

She laughs, amused, when he complains about it. “Why are you bothered? It gives me the advantage; always has,” she points out. “These people are so occupied with what my body can do that they forget about my mind, and by the time they remember it, I have already achieved my goal, usually at their expense.”

“Yeah, but it still gets on my nerves. You don’t deserve that kind of disrespect; nobody does.”

She softens, giving him a genuinely appreciative look when she hands him a report to pass to the lab team. “You are a kinder soul than I ever will be, Doctor Grace. But that’s why I was chosen to lead this task force. It is not a role where you are rewarded for your kindness.”

“Well, I can teach that to the kid, then,” Ryland jokes. “You can teach them how to be terrifying and awe-inspiring, and how to become the most powerful person in the world.”

Eva shrugs, but manages a small smile. “Before that, I would just like to make sure that they get to live to the age that they deserve.”

“They will,” says Ryland, with a confidence and an optimism he’s trying to learn - for her sake, for theirs. “We’ll figure it out.”

Lin has them in for another scan three weeks later, and it amazes Ryland how quickly the foetus has grown in that short span of time. The human body does incredible things. They both watch the little shape on the screen as Lin moves the probe around, seeing it at different angles. “Mm. Everything looks well with the baby, and the chromosomal tests came back negative,” she says. “You’ve been taking the folic acid and Vitamin D supplements?” Eva nods. “That’s good. Any concerning symptoms you’ve noticed? Anything out of the ordinary?”

“I’m fine,” Eva says shortly; Lin raises an eyebrow, looking irritated at her tone. “Director Stratt, I’m not asking to be polite. For all intents and purposes, I am your primary care provider at this point in time, observing a pregnant person of an advanced maternal age. You are at greater risk of dealing with complications like preeclampsia or pre-term birth. If any symptoms have been bothering you, please report them or risk endangering your health and that of the foetus’.”

Lin must have balls of steel, Ryland thinks. Or probably just faith in her medical knowledge, of which she had enough to get coerced onto the Vat, after all. Eva grits her teeth and says, as evenly as she can, “I’ve had a few headaches, but that’s all. I wouldn’t even necessarily connect them to the pregnancy, it might just be the result of the project, as it is.”

Lin clicks her tongue and makes a note on her pad. “Monitor them, just to be on the safe side. And we’ll have to start paying attention to your blood sugar and blood pressure.” She turns off the machine and gestures for Eva to get off the bed. “Until then, just continue the vitamins, eat well, and exercise common sense. I’ll see you again in six weeks.”

Ryland can’t help the concern prickling over him when they walk out of the medical ward. “You didn’t tell me about the headaches.”

“Most likely because I would be having them regardless of being pregnant or not,” Eva retorts dryly. “Considering how many hours I spend arguing with politicians about basic economic principles, compiling reports in five different languages, and having endless meetings all around the ship.”

“Just… be careful? Pay more attention to your health,” says Ryland, feeling awkward. The last thing he wants is to tell Eva Stratt what to do, but he’s going to worry. “I don’t know that much about pregnancy, obviously, but I’ve been reading up where I can, and I know it’ll be hard on your body. You don’t want to burn out. If I can help with anything, just let me know, okay?”

Eva sighs, and finally says: “Thank you, Doctor Grace, I appreciate it.” She continues, almost begrdugingly: “I am dealing with cravings, if you are willing and able to cook.”

“I lived alone from ages eighteen to thirty-eight, so yes, I can cook,” Ryland grins. “What are you feeling?”

She makes a disgusted, pained expression, grinding the words out like it hurts her to say them. “Macaroni… and… cheese.”

Ryland looks at her, confused. “Am I missing something? Why are you saying it like that? What’s wrong with mac and cheese?”

Eva stares at him like he's the insane one. “It is overwhelmingly creamy, it makes you ill on cheese, and it has zero nutritional value,” she says, disbelieving. “Why anyone enjoys it is beyond my understanding.”

“It’s comfort food! Oh my God. You’re missing out.” He shakes his head, laughing. “There’s some old wives’ tale about how the food that expectant moms crave is what the kids will grow up to like, right? If that’s true, I bet they get that from me.”

Eva rolls her eyes. “Of course you enjoy macaroni and cheese. How quintessentially American.”

“I’m going to make you a Grace Special mac and cheese, and you’ll realise how delicious it can be. You’ll keep eating it even after you’re no longer pregnant.”

“I highly, highly doubt that.”

“Are you going to let me satisfy this craving or not?”

Another spectacular eye-roll, but Eva does fall into step with him as he starts walking to the mess. “As you like, Doctor Grace. Lead the way.”

As the days tick by, Ryland watches Eva’s body slowly but surely change, adapting to the life gestating inside her. Barely noticeable observed day after day, but the difference at the end of every week is startling. Yao and Ilyukhina somehow managed to convince Eva into taking week-on-week Polaroids to document the development (what that’s about and how they did it, Ryland will never know); Ryland’s been helping her with the effort, and together they’ve rigged up a little display board in her bedroom where she can pin each Polaroid in order - a visual representation of her journey. They’re in her quarters now, waiting for the latest Polaroid to develop. Eva eases herself onto the bed, one hand curved over the swell of her stomach, getting more prominent every day. She tips her head back against the pillows, sighs, and Ryland asks: “Tired?”

“I had not reckoned with exactly how physically demanding pregnancy would be,” she admits. “Mentally, too. Everything seems to take twice as long to complete, which is inconvenient, considering our timelines. It does get frustrating.”

“You should delegate more, so stuff keeps getting done,” Ryland suggests. “People will understand. Especially since the baby is literally stealing all your energy. It is a bit parasitical, right? Not ‘virus in a host’ style, but - well - anyway, you get it.”

Eva’s lips twitch. “Is that how they put it in the books on pregnancy that you’ve been ‘reading up on’?”

“Not in those words, but it’s still true. It sucks up nutrients and all that. That’s why Lin put you on all those supplements.”

“I am aware.” She rubs her eyes, blowing out a long breath. “Perhaps I will see what I can do about delegation. Some things will be more manageable than others.”

“Everyone will be happy to help,” Ryland assures her. “They’re excited to meet the baby too, you know.”

Eva grunts in disbelief; Ryland presses on, saying: “They are. A lot of the crew love kids, and even the ones that aren’t big fans are happy for you. As scared of you as they might all be, they respect you a lot, and they care about you. Seriously.”

He’s not sure if Eva actually believes him, but she doesn’t protest, which he’ll take as a win. She reaches out for the Polaroid; Ryland checks to see if it’s fully developed and presses it into her hand. She scrutinises it closely as she grabs a Sharpie to note the date. “Coming up on twenty weeks. It seems like no time at all.”

“Time moves weirdly on the Vat,” Ryland points out. “Also, that means the next scan with Lin is coming up?”

“Mm. In two days.”

“That’s the one where you can find out the sex of the baby if you want, right?” Ryland shoots her a quick look out of the corner of his eye. “Are you going to do that?”

“Of course. As you know, I am not a fan of surprises.”

His heart rate speeds up a couple of beats. “Well, that’s cool,” he starts; Eva snorts, amused. “I am well aware that you are excited, Doctor Grace. No need to keep up the pretense.”

“Ugh. You can’t let me have anything,” Ryland grumbles. He takes the dated Polaroid from Eva and stands to help her add it to the corkboard; he hears her speak again as he puts a pin through the plastic. “Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?”

“Doesn’t matter, really. No matter what, they’re going to be awesome. Smart like you, ambitious like you, driven like you… funny like me,” he grins, laughing when Eva rolls her eyes. “How about you? Have a preference?”

“No. Regardless, I would raise them the same way.” She rests one hand over her stomach, idly stroking it with her thumb. “To care for the wider world around them, to work hard, to dream as big as they can, and to want better for themselves, for others.”

“Yeah. That sounds like you.” Ryland’s heart aches with fondness, with admiration; he says, softly: “You’re going to be a great mom, Stratt.”

An extended, heavy silence hangs in the air until she finally replies, “I hope so. I am not exactly the ideal candidate for motherhood.”

“What? Why would you say that?”

Eva gives him a disbelieving, slightly annoyed look, and gestures widely at herself, like that’s supposed to answer the question. Ryland shrugs. “So you don’t carry yourself like a Hallmark drama or romcom mom. Who cares? I’ve seen a lot of moms in my teaching career, and there’s no one quality that all the good ones share - other than loving their kids. And you’re gonna do that, right?”

Eva says, quietly: “Yes, of course.”

“There we go, then.” Ryland spreads his hands wide. “And what’s that people like to say? If you’re worried about being a good parent, you’ll probably be one?”

“I’m not sure that’s how exactly it goes, Grace.”

“Eh. Close enough. You’ll be fine,” he promises. “Plus, you won’t be raising them alone. Co-parents, remember?”

“Of course,” Eva smiles. “Co-parents.”

It somehow never gets less exciting to report to Lin for the scans, even if she continues to have absolutely no expression on her face when conducting them (although Ryland supposes that’s probably a good sign; he wouldn’t want to see a big smile drop and immediately fear the worst). “They’re doing very well. Everything seems to be developing as it should. Like the lungs, here, and the heart,” Lin gestures to the blobs on screen. “And you can see a hand, right here.”

“Wow,” Ryland breathes, fascinated by the tiny fingers amidst the blackness; he wiggles his own, comparing them to the image, making Eva snort. Lin keeps moving the probe around, slowly and carefully, finally lingering on one spot. “You said you wanted to know the sex?”

They both nod. Lin tilts her head towards the screen. “Congratulations - looks like it’s a girl.”

Ryland feels his heart expand to fill his chest, almost instantaneous, tearing up before he can stop himself. “Oh, wow,” he repeats, choking up; he looks at Eva, who returns his glance with an uncharacteristically fond smile. “A little girl,” he whispers - oh, he can already imagine a mini-Eva, hair the same shade of red and identical serious expressions. He can’t wait to meet her - just four more months until they get to hold their daughter. 

He’s still buzzing after the ultrasound, when Lin takes him surreptitiously aside while her assistant helps Eva clean off the gel. “Something you should know, Doctor Grace - Director Stratt’s blood pressure is slightly on the high side. It’s not a cause for concern - yet - but it’s something to monitor, make sure that it doesn’t get worse. I would recommend spending more time with her and making sure that she is not overworking or engaging in concerning activity that might jeopardise her health.”

Ryland blinks, feeling slightly uncomfortable. “Uh, okay. I mean, sure, but… shouldn’t you be telling her that, rather than me? I mean, that’s a bit shady, right?”

“Rest assured I have spoken directly to her,” Lin says dryly. “However, considering that you are the only person on the ship that she will listen to, it seemed wise to keep you apprised so that you can step in where necessary.”

“I’m not the only - what?! - that’s not true,” Ryland protests. Lin doesn’t react outwardly, just says, very simply: “Hm,” and then: “Please remember what I have said, Doctor Grace. Thank you.”

Which, like, he will, regardless, but not because of the completely inaccurate claim that Eva won’t listen to anyone on the ship except him. What a ridiculous thing to say.

Thankfully, despite Eva’s preference for control and initial unwillingness to hand over at least some of the reins to other members of the crew, she ultimately still has plenty of brains and common sense. She starts delegating more, as Ryland recommended, and handing over some of the less crucial tasks to her other minions who run about at her beck and call. Everyone is, predictably, eager, willing, and helpful. “It’s because of the child,” Eva says, when he points out how he was right-ha-see-so-there. “Like I said months ago, people already see her as a beacon of hope. She helps them believe a little more in the future.”

Ryland throws his hands up in exasperation. “Why is it so hard for you to accept that other people actually care about you as a person? Especially when you’re not a cynic, Stratt, or a misanthrope. If you were, you wouldn’t be here.”

“Not everybody is like you, Doctor Grace,” Eva snaps, making him jump. “I have to care more about humanity than about people; that is the point of this project. Being pregnant - feeling the urge to make this child my first priority instead of the world - is a frustrating and stressful compromise enough, let alone developing camaraderie with, or worse, affection for a group of people, most of whom I have asked unbelievable sacrifice out of. And in the case of the flight crew, the ultimate one. I have enough liabilities as it is.”

A long and slightly suffocating silence passes between them as Ryland takes a dumbfounded moment to reflect on that. He hadn’t thought about it that way (which is probably why he’s not the leader of the task force, thank goodness for everyone else). He bites his tongue, sits with the humility, and says, “I’m sorry. I know how difficult this is for you. All of it.”

Eva pinches the bridge of her nose, lips thinned into a straight line. “She is clouding my judgment, badly,” she admits, low and quiet, almost ashamed. “Especially since the last ultrasound. Every time I make a decision, small or large, I keep thinking about how it will affect her first, before the world.” She sighs. “I suppose dividing the work might help with that - having more unbiased perspectives from everyone else.”

“I mean, sure,” Ryland concedes. “But also - I said it before, I’ll say it again. You are more than just the leader of the task force. When - not if, when - we solve the Astrophage problem and the world comes fully alive again, you’ll be freed of that obligation, at least, and you’ll have a chance at a normal life again. Earth won’t always be your first priority - that’s the whole point of what we’re doing. It’s not a crime to put her first. Especially when, for you, that would just mean fighting even harder to make this whole thing a success.”

Another sigh, but less heavy this time. “I suppose you have a point.”

“I’m good at pep talks,” Ryland jokes. “Teacher thing.”

“Go give one to Sombat, if that’s the case. He looked ready to collapse when I assigned him to handle communications with ISRO, even though he is by far the most qualified to do so.”

Ryland cocks his head at her. “Is that an order?”

“Yes,” Eva says, gesturing to the door. Ryland shrugs, snaps off a quick salute, and departs cheerfully. “At your service, Director Stratt.”

About six weeks after the ultrasound, Ryland starts noticing that every time he drops into Eva’s office to provide updates or deliver reports or just share meals (a good way of ensuring she actually eats instead of scribbling away at paperwork; he did promise Lin, after all, or as good as), there’s music humming from a newly-installed cassette player on her desk. “That’s new,” he comments, after the fourth time he walks in to find slow German tunes filling the room. “I thought you said you worked better in silence.”

“Better, yes, but I can still focus in the presence of music, especially if it has a soothing melody,” says Eva, like she wouldn’t be able to deliver an entire speech on top of a collapsing building in the middle of a tornado. “And my workload is more manageable these days, on account of the delegation. Most importantly, we are reaching the stage in pregnancy where the baby is able to hear sounds from outside the womb. I thought it would be pleasant to give her some early exposure to the joys of music.”

“Oh, that’s precious,” Ryland says; he might actually melt from seeing this sweet side of Director Eva Stratt. “What have you been letting her listen to?”

“Just my personal collection of cassettes. Largely childhood favourites, and some instrumentals.” She straightens her papers and adds, casually, like she isn’t surprising the heck out of him, “I sing to her sometimes as well - not here, of course. They recognise the sound of your voice - it’s well documented.”

“You sing?” Ryland asks, unable to hide his delight; Eva throws him a look. “It is encouraged,” she points out. “And I used to sing in an Eastern German youth choir, so I thought I might as well put that past experience to good use.” She looks at his increasingly gleeful expression and sighs. “I have no intention of becoming live entertainment, Doctor Grace. Please put any thoughts of dragging me into yours and the crew’s ‘karaoke nights’ out of your head.”

Ryland can’t resist cracking another of his typical jokes. “Aw. How about just for me?”

Another deep sigh, but the look she gives him is less irritated, more amused. “I’ll consider it,” she deadpans, in the tone that tells him she never will. “Now, unless you actually have something to report…?”

“Just these files covering our latest experiments with the propulsion mechanisms.” Eva takes the papers Ryland hands to her with a nod. “Nothing else from me - I’m gonna head back to the lab now.”

“All right. I will see you for dinner later, at our usual time.”

Ryland gives her a thumbs-up and sails back out of the door, smiling wide.

They end up in her quarters one evening, where she rattles off a couple of logistical updates he and his team need to be aware of while he faithfully takes notes on his pad. It’s coming up on seven and a half months now, and she’s been spending less time in the office, the physical discomfort of sitting for hours on end in her chair behind her desk beginning to get to even Director Eva ‘mind over matter’ Stratt. Ryland has to admit, it was a little weird coming back into this space - he’d gone from spending almost every night here for months, sneaking out in the early hours to stealthily return to his own room, to… just not coming over at all. It makes sense; they haven’t had sex since she broke the news about the pregnancy - which is fine; obviously, she’s had other things to think about. The nature of their relationship changed after that; Ryland guesses she’s not really keen on their definition of ‘co-parent’ involving hooking up, which he respects. And if he had to pick between what they had then and what they share now, he’d take the latter, every single time.

Somehow, without Ryland really noticing, the conversation takes a turn into more personal territory once the scientific updates conclude. He finds himself telling Eva about the betting pool he discovered Ilyukhina’s been running for three weeks. “About the sex of the baby, who is surprised,” he says; Eva replies, sounding genuinely shocked, “I’m amazed the entire ship hasn’t already found out.”

“How would they know? You couldn’t torture basic A/S/L information out of Lin, let alone confidential medical records.” Eva tilts her head in acknowledgment of the point. “As long as we continue meeting deadlines and morale is unaffected, they can engage in their harmless little entertainments. At least they did not do something truly aggravating such as throwing us a ‘baby shower’.”

Ryland laughs out loud at the mental image and how tempted Eva would’ve been to throw everyone into the brig for doing that; he’s interrupted a second later by Eva’s gasp, and her fingers suddenly wrapping tight around his wrist and bringing his hand to her stomach. “Grace. Feel.”

Momentarily confused, but never one to wonder why with Eva, Ryland splays his hand wide and feels, as ordered - oh, it hits him straight in the heart, a warm glow settling all around him. “Is that - is she kicking?” Eva nods; Ryland feels his smile splitting his face. He never wants to shift his hand away; never wants to stop feeling these little movements, reminding him exactly how real this is. “Wow, she’s strong, huh? Already a little fighter. Hi there, sweetheart.” He looks back up at Eva, who has one hand on her stomach as well, bare inches from his. “Actually, that reminds me - have you thought about names yet?”

“Yes, of course.” Right, seriously, this is Eva Stratt; what is he talking about? “Have you?”

Ryland points uncertainly to himself. “Me?” She arches an eyebrow, disparaging; Ryland hurriedly adds, “I was going to leave that up to you. You’ve been doing all the heavy lifting throughout the pregnancy, it feels fair that you get to decide.”

“She’s your child too, Grace,” Eva says, five simple words that send a frisson of deep and unexplainable emotion through him. “We should at least discuss it together.”

“I mean, if that’s what you want, I’d love to.” He adjusts his chair so he’s closer to the bed, facing her so they can talk. “I really haven’t thought of anything, though. Why don’t you start by telling me your ideas?”

“Just one, really,” she corrects him. Her tone softens, a note of nostalgic wistfulness entering it. “Marie.”

Ryland tries it out, appreciating the way it rolls smoothly off his tongue. “I like it. Why Marie?”

“It was my grandmother’s name, for one.” Ryland watches Eva fiddle absent-mindedly with the edge of her sheets, looking thoughtful. “I didn’t have the most - supportive parents, growing up. They didn’t understand a girl being interested in science, or history, or anything bigger than the small, secluded world around her, really. Only my grandmother encouraged me to read, to study, to dream. She never got that chance, and she wanted better for me.”

“She sounds amazing,” Ryland says softly; Eva nods. “She was. She died when I was seventeen, before she could see me graduate from university, go on to work for the ESA. She cared for the world more than she did herself, too. I have always hoped I made her proud.”

“You definitely have.” She gives him a small, grateful smile. “I think that’s a great name, Stratt.”

“It’s more than that, though. I like the meaning,” she adds. “‘Star of the sea’. It reminds me of what we are doing. The stars, where we are sending our people; the seas, one of the things we are trying to save. The future we are building for her.”

Ryland’s heart does a flip, almost skips several beats from the overwhelming rush of affection flooding every inch of his body. It feels like he’s seeing the softest part of Eva, deeply loving, endlessly caring, hidden by necessity behind the facade of collected poise that allows her to lead the task force to success. He wants, suddenly, to lean across and kiss her, to show her exactly how much she means to him - if only, if only.

But he checks himself, and sticks to saying, “I really like it. Let’s do it. Let’s call her Marie.”

“Marie Grace,” Eva says; Ryland grins. “Stratt-Grace, surely. Come on, it’s a new and modern world.”

“Well said,” Eva agrees. “Marie Stratt-Grace.” She says it like it’s silk in her mouth, something precious, something sweet. Ryland skims his fingertips across her stomach again, seeking the occasional kick, and thinks, I can’t wait to meet you, Marie.

It’s not like Ryland’s forgotten what Lin said about monitoring Eva’s health, but he’s got to admit he hasn’t really been worried, these past few months. After all, she’s been taking a bit more of a backseat on the work, as advised, and when she does attend meetings and compile reports, she’s as mentally sharp as before, just physically less spry. She’s been religious with the prescribed vitamins and supplements, eating and sleeping well (as far as he can tell, anyway). And all of Lin’s reports on the baby were glowing - so yeah, things seem fine.

They’re thirty-six weeks in, and have an upcoming meeting with Lin and her team about delivery already penciled into the calendar, when that state of things quickly and abruptly changes. He’s in her quarters, having just brought her another bowl of mac and cheese; she’s rubbing her temple when he enters, brows tightly knit over her closed eyes. Ryland asks, concerned: “Are you okay?”

“Just a headache,” she says, slightly strained. “I have run out of paracetamol. Do you have any? That might help.”

“Yeah, let me get you some. Give me a sec.” He leaves the bowl with her, heads out to his room to grab the painkillers. It only takes ten minutes to get there and back, but by the time he returns, Eva is already curled up on her bed, food untouched, clutching her head and gasping for breath; the sight makes Ryland’s heart stop, an icy chill instantly settling over his entire body. It takes him a second to unfreeze and race over to her, taking in the paleness of her cheeks, the pain written in every inch of her face - something’s wrong, he thinks, trying to swallow his panic and keep calm. He runs back to the open door, looking up and down the hallway - there’s nobody around to get help. Ryland grits his teeth; no time to waste. “Stratt? Can you hear me?” He puts his hands on her shoulders, trying to get her to look at him; she doesn’t, eyes still squeezed shut, but she nods brief acknowledgment. “Something’s wrong, right? I’m going to get you to the medical wing, okay?”

She’s breathing so fast and so erratically she can’t reply; Ryland doesn’t hesitate, just scoops her into his arms and starts running. He barely feels her weight, or the strain on his calves as he pushes himself up two flights to the ward, barges in without waiting to knock. One of the medical staff busy organising medications jumps in fright, glares up at him, clearly ready to give him the what-for, then goes ghost white when they see Stratt’s limp frame. No words exchanged; they just leap out from behind their station and race to Lin’s tiny office, banging on the door. “Doctor Lin! You’re needed, now!”

Lin pokes her head out and looks in the direction that the staff member is pointing, straight at Ryland, still holding Eva in his arms. For the very first time, he sees Lin’s expression change; she crosses the room in two paces to cast an urgent look over Eva, and immediately starts barking orders. “Carter, call all medical personnel in here - tell them code blue, and we need the surgical ward prepared. Rahul - find Doctor Lokken and Carl; tell them they’re needed too. Kida, get a bed and assist Doctor Grace with transferring Director Stratt into it. Now!”

A tall young woman in scrubs materialises by Ryland’s side almost instantly. “Doctor Grace, follow me.” She hurries to a bed on the other side of the room and helps him ease Eva into it, then runs for a blood pressure monitor, sliding the cuff along Eva’s arm. She blocks his line of sight to the screen, but the way her face drops when she sees the numbers tells Ryland everything he needs to know. “What’s happening?” He tries, choking on his bewildered terror, but Kida’s disappeared again, sprinting up to Lin to deliver her report. Ryland, helpless, turns back to Eva, heart racing a mile a minute as he takes her in - he’s never seen her like this, clearly in agony, tears dripping down her cheeks. He grabs her hand, desperate to do something, anything, and she clutches him so tight it feels like his fingers might break. “I’m here,” Ryland says, not sure what else could possibly help. “It’s gonna be okay - I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s gonna be fine, Stratt, I promise - “

“Ryland,” she gasps (the first time she’s ever said his first name; he feels sick at the thought that it could be the last). It peters out into a distressed moan as another shudder of pain wracks her. Ryland turns frantically to the door, where the entire wing of medical staff is pouring in, and Lokken and Carl with them. “What is going on? Do something, help her!”

“We will, Doctor Grace. We are not about to let anything happen to her,” says Lin, grim. She snaps more instructions that he can’t hear and the group splits up, some dashing to the surgical ward, some following her to Eva’s bedside. “This looks like preeclampsia. Very, very bad. It is early for the baby, but I advise that we conduct a caesarean section now, before things get worse. Director Stratt, I just need you to nod to show that you understand and consent, and we can proceed immediately.”

Eva looks up at Lin with glassy, unseeing eyes; coughs weakly, just once, and proceeds to vomit bile all over her scrubs.

In the span of a second, Ryland’s world turns into chaos. All of the staff trailing behind Lin surround Eva’s bed, shoving him brusquely out of the way; he stumbles to the side, immediately losing sight of her. There’s so much shouting, overlapping and distorted as people yell orders over each other. He struggles forward on instinct, heart plummeting into his shoes - all he can think, breathe, is Eva - what’s happening? What’s happening? Eva. Eva. Eva. Eva - and then they’re rushing her away from him, wheeling her into the surgical ward - “EVA!” Ryland yells; he can’t move any further, there are strong arms wrapped around his waist, holding him back. “NO! Let me go - EVA - “

“She’s crashing, and the baby is in distress,” he hears; Lokken steps in front of him, trying to make him look at her, focus on her words. “You can’t go in there, they need to focus on keeping them alive - Doctor Grace,” she says, trying for stern, and then, louder, almost the top of her voice, “RYLAND! Stop. Stop.”

By some miracle his addled brain registers the command; only then does Ryland realise he’s been fighting back against Carl, who’s keeping him pinned against his chest - nails clawing at Carl’s hands, desperately kicking back against his legs. “Grace,” Carl says, clearly biting back his winces of pain. “Hey. I got you, okay? And they got her. They’re going to be okay. Both of them.”

He’s gasping so hard he can’t breathe (like her, she couldn’t breathe, what’s happening, what’s happening to her - ). Preeclampsia - Lin mentioned that months ago. He’d read a little about it (not enough not enough not enough, why can’t he think, why can’t he remember) - visions of her shivering in pain swim in front of his eyes, and Ryland exhales a choked, anguished wheeze. “Please,” he hears - his own voice, but sounding high and twisted, an animal noise. He doesn’t realise until a few moments later that he’s on the ground, on his knees, kept up only by Carl’s arms bracing against him. “No, no, no, please, I can’t lose her, I can’t lose her, please - “ (I love you, I love you, I love you, I’m sorry I was a coward, I’m sorry I wasn’t honest, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, don’t leave me, don’t leave me, please. Eva, please, please, please - )

He’s not sure how long he spends sobbing on the tiles, Lokken and Carl trying to calm him out of a full-blown panic attack, when the door to the surgical ward reopens and Rahul appears; Ryland goes straight for him before Carl can hold him back. “What’s happening to Eva?! Is she okay?!”

Rahul swallows, stress shadowing his face. “Director Stratt had a seizure,” he whispers. “It looks like eclampsia. We stabilised her, but there’s - she is losing a lot of blood, and they are working on that now. We’re doing everything that we can, Doctor Grace, I promise.”

Another awful, broken noise tears its way out of Ryland’s throat; he buries his face in his hands, trying to breathe through the thought of losing her losing her losing her no no no no please -

“But we successfully delivered the baby,” Rahul says, and that immediately stops all of them in their tracks. “That’s why I came out here to find you, Doctor Grace. Would you like to meet your daughter?”

Ryland didn’t know he could feel this much at once, this overwhelming flood of pure, unadulterated emotion overpowering his senses - guilt, terror, rage, confusion, hope, disbelief, excitement, love. He feels Carl squeeze his shoulder, hears him say, rough from holding back his own tears: “Go, man, she needs you.”

Ryland nods, fruitlessly wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “Yes, yes, please.”

Rahul gestures for Ryland to follow him, guiding him to put on scrubs and leading him away from the surgical ward to a much smaller room, clearly set up only in the last few weeks to mimic a mini-maternity ward. Two other members of medical staff are fussing over a crib, doing checks and tests, but they step aside when Rahul brings Ryland over. “Here she is. Very healthy for an early baby - we’ll need to keep an eye on her for a few weeks, but in the meantime, she is looking very well.”

A fighter, Ryland remembers. Just like her mom. Rahul lifts her out of the crib and places her gently in Ryland’s arms; he sees the barest shadow of blonde hair, blue-grey eyes that sleepily open and close. She’s tiny, and her cheek is warm when he runs his fingertips over it, when he presses it lightly to his own. “Hi, Marie,” he whispers, chest aching, tears still flowing, unable to stop. “I’m so happy you’re here. And your mom is going to be too.” He presses a soft kiss to his daughter’s forehead, breathing in her scent (real, real, real). “We’re gonna wait right here for her, okay? And we’ll see her really soon.” I promise. I love you. I promise.

An hour, or a year, or an eternity later, Ryland doesn’t know, the door opens and they finally wheel a new bed into the room; his heart almost leaps out of his ribcage when he sees Eva lying in it, the barely-there rise and fall of her chest. She’s hooked up to a nasal cannula, a magnesium drip, a heart rate and blood pressure monitor - so many tubes and wires running out of her. He stumbles over for a better look, still holding Marie protectively in his arms. Lin meets him halfway, looking exhausted, but triumphant. “She’s going to be fine, but she needs to rest. She lost almost two litres of blood. It might be a while before she wakes up, let alone be lucid again. But she’s going to live.”

If his hands weren’t occupied, Ryland would give Lin the biggest hug he could. “Thank you,” he whispers, voice shaking. “Thank you for saving her. All of you.”

“That’s the job,” Lin smiles. “Go be with your family, Doctor Grace.”

Family. The word makes something settle in his heart, like some puzzle piece he hadn’t realised was missing, slotting neatly into place and making him whole. Ryland settles into a chair next to the bed, getting comfortable as everyone else files out to give them privacy. He shifts Marie into the crook of his arm, making sure her neck is supported before he reaches for Eva’s hand and slides his fingers through hers. “I’ll watch you sleep,” he murmurs. “Won’t leave. Marie’s not going anywhere either. But you’ve gotta wake up, because we promised to be co-parents, and you always keep your word, right?”

He squeezes tight, doesn’t let go while Marie dozes, and not even when he eventually drifts into sleep himself.

When she wakes up again, thirteen hours later, he’s the first thing she sees when she opens her eyes. Her voice hoarse and shaky when she rasps his name; a question, almost a plea. “Ryland?”

“Hi,” he whispers. He’d mostly managed to stop the crying after getting a few hours of rest, but watching her breathe, look at him, see him, might definitely start that all over again. “I’m here, Eva, I’m right here.”

She inhales, struggling to string her words together. “Where is she?”

No need, of course, to ask who ‘she’ might mean. Ryland lifts Marie out of her crib and brings her to the bed, sits carefully beside Eva, making sure not to jostle the equipment around her. Eva isn’t strong enough yet to hold her, but Ryland rests Marie on her chest, letting Eva stroke her little cheek, her arm, resting one finger in her palm and letting tinier ones wrap around it. “Hallo, mein schatz,” she murmurs, the words filled to the brim with love. “Welcome to the world.”

Ryland exhales, sounding embarrassingly snotty from the tears he can absolutely no longer hold back. Eva leans into his shoulder and he thinks, fudge it, she nearly died, for God’s sake; he presses a kiss to the top of her head, relieved and heartened when she doesn’t pull away. “I am alright,” she says. “I’m alive, Ryland.”

“I know,” he replies, ragged. “I know, I - I was so scared, Eva, I’ve never been that afraid in my life. I thought I was going to lose you. I don’t think I could’ve survived that.”

“You would have,” she says, soft and fond. “You are stronger than you think.” She tilts her head to look at him, meet his eyes, raises her hand to cup his stubbled cheek. “But I’m glad, too. I didn’t want to leave both of you behind.”

“I love you,” he whispers. There’s some other awful, awful world where he never got to tell her that before he lost her, Ryland knows; he got a glimpse into that world less than twenty-four hours ago, and he never, ever wants to deal with that again. “I love you so much, Eva Stratt. I just want to be right here, with you, and with Marie, for the rest of my life.”

Eva smiles - tired, drained, but real. “Yes,” she agrees. “That is what I want, too.” She brings him close and kisses him lightly, chastely, on the mouth - short and sweet, but a kiss that promises a future. Ryland chuckles, trying to lighten his tone despite the sniffles he still can’t stop. “So, I guess we’re going to be a little more than co-parents, huh?”

She doesn’t laugh, but he sees the love in her eyes when he looks at her, a deep endlessness mirrored in his. “Much, much more,” she says. “I would like us to be a family.”

“Eva,” Ryland says softly. “We already are.”

Her eyes shine even brighter. She looks down at Marie, little fingers still wrapped around her bigger one, and Ryland’s palm stroking gently over her fuzzy head. “Yes. I suppose we are.”

“A super-family, actually,” Ryland adds. “Leader of the Petrova task force, world authority on Astrophage, and their kick-ass daughter, who are going to make Project Hail Mary a resounding success, save the entire world, and live happily ever after.”

Eva snorts, amused; Ryland nudges her gently, grinning. “What, you don’t agree?”

“No, I do,” she says. “Happily ever after,” and it sounds like, for the very first time, she believes - really believes - it could come true. “Together, we will make it happen, my daughter. We promise.”

Which is all Ryland needs to know that it’ll come true. Because Eva Stratt keeps her promises, and so will he. “I love you,” he says again; he’ll never get tired of saying it. And he’ll never, ever get tired of hearing her reply, soft, and genuine, and meaning every word of it, for the rest of their lives. “I love you, too.”