Chapter Text
Yeah, that’s me. You must be wondering how I got here.
Ryland Grace could vaguely recall his students repeating that meme whenever they got caught in “A Situation(tm)” as they would say.
It made him wish he could take a freezeframe of his current situation: Pinned to the wall by a half-crazed man they found in a rickety submarine with his rough hand around Grace’s throat.
He was sure his kids would find it hilarious.
Dr. Ryland Grace uses humor to cope with stressful situations.
“Who the fuck are you?! Are you COI?” the dark-haired man shouted, his fingers tightening against Grace’s neck.
Grace coughed harshly as he struggled to pull in a breath, unable to break away from the man. He shook his head at the second question, which seemed to be enough to convince him to loosen his grip enough for Grace to answer.
“Grace! Ryland Grace! I’m a scientist,” he choked out, sucking in another breath while he had the chance.
“Who do you work for?” the stranger snarled, a growl rumbling low in his throat.
“No one! I don’t work for anyone, it’s just me and my friend here,” Grace replied, speaking quickly as he tried finding the words he needed to get the man to at least let go of his throat.
“Where is here?”
“My spaceship. I swear it’s just us, we found your ship floating in interstellar space on our way to my friend’s home planet,” Grace stammered, letting out a gargled cough as the wild-eyed man tightened his grip.
“Do you think I’m fuckin stupid? I may have gone crazy in that tin fucking can you locked me in, but I still remember *the fucking Rapture,*” he growled.
“I- The what? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Grace said in a panic- silently praying Rocky would wake up soon. There wouldn’t be much he could do, but maybe he could roll into this man’s legs from his ball or something.
Grace’s eyes flitted in the direction of the Xenonite tunnel, but a flash of red in the corner of his eye made him do a double take.
“You- Your arm. You’re bleeding. Let me help,” Grace choked out, pushing himself up on the balls of his feet as if that would get him far enough away from the man’s windpipe-crushing grip to be able to, y’know, breathe.
“I’m not falling for that,” the man said, anger flashing in his eyes.
Like a flash of lightning in a summer storm.
Not now, Ryland! He’s actively trying to kill you!
“Look, you don’t believe I’m trying to help but I promise I am. You’ve already shown you can overpower me so just let me help you, please,” Grace begged, watching the bloodstain on his bandage growing.
Grace could see the man was getting paler, that his eyes started to look unfocused. He did go through an unbelievable amount of physical trauma (and mental, no doubt, but Grace couldn’t speak to that just yet), and got an adrenaline rush immediately upon regaining consciousness. He was probably fighting not to pass out. Grace certainly found himself hoping for that right now.
The man gritted his (way too sharp) teeth. His grip tightened, causing Grace to let out a harsh cough as his air was completely cut off. He could feel tunnel vision starting to set in, the edges of his vision starting to fade before he watched Simon’s eyes roll back, his body going limp and crumpling to the floor.
Grace stumbled and turned to brace his arm against the wall of the Mary, coughing hard as he tried to suck in air now that his throat was free. As soon as he was able to speak enough, he told Armando to bring the man back up onto the bed. He slid onto his knees once the Nannybot took over, trying to catch his breath as his throat throbbed in pain. He was definitely going to have a necklace of bruises, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he had a few popped blood vessels in his eyes. He would check himself out soon, but for now he had to compensate for what Armando couldn’t do.
Once Grace was able to mostly breathe again, he grabbed one of the rungs of the ladder next to him and hauled himself to his feet. Armando wouldn’t be able to bandage the man’s arm as well as Grace could, and he’d rather send himself out of the airlock than let the only other human in deep space die.
Armando reached down and handed Grace what he would need. He worked methodically, looking down at the severed arm he was bandaging. It stopped just above his elbow, and looked like it had been ripped off. He would have to keep a close eye on it, but he wasn’t really sure how he would do that or what he would do if something went wrong. He should probably start reading medical journals if he was going to “play doctor.”
Yes, the pun was intended.
“Maybe next time he wakes up he won’t try to choke me out again, ey Armando?” Grace said to himself with a chuckle.
”Choke out meaning, question?”
“Rock!” Grace gasped in surprise- only for the sharp inhale to grate on his throat and send him into another coughing fit.
”What wrong with Grace, question?? Heart, throat sound wrong,” Rocky chattered anxiously, moving back and forth in a way reminiscent of a crab, his clawed fingers tapping together.
Grace held up a finger to his friend and signaled to Armando to bring him some water. Thankfully he had just finished wrapping up the man’s arm when the coughing fit hit. He could feel his breathing rattle, which set off another round of concerned chirps from Rocky. He waved his hand over toward the Eridian as he drank the water brought over to him. He couldn’t blame Rocky for his concern. He could hear the inside of Grace’s body, and even Grace would admit it must sound pretty weird right now.
“Choking is when your breathing is obstructed in some way. Like if something gets stuck in your throat or squeezes your neck. If you do it enough it can make someone lose consciousness- also called passing out. ‘Choking someone out’ means to obstruct their breathing until they lose consciousness,” Grace explained, rubbing his hand under the ring of bruises he could feel throbbing just beneath his skin. “Sorry, I’m sure this sounds a lot worse to you than it actually is,” he added sheepishly, pulling his glasses from his face and cleaning the lenses with his shirt as an excuse to fidget.
”Sounds bad bad bad! Why new human hurt Grace, question?!” Rocky clamored, stomping his feet.
“Woah, woah, calm down, bud. Humans are… emotional. We’re prone to our brains going haywire when big stuff happens. This man was trapped alone in a submarine in interstellar space. Submarines aren’t even made for that environment. His arm loss is also clearly recent, and couldn’t have been done properly. Plus, remember what I mentioned way back when we first met? When humans have to go through long term isolation it can make us go crazy? It gets worse in smaller spaces. Whoever he is, he’s going to be screwy for a while,” Grace explained, walking over so he could lean back against the Xenonite habitrail, his arms crossed over his chest as he gazed at the sleeping man.
Grace slowly rubbed his neck, unable to tear his eyes away from the strange man they found floating in the interstellar medium. He was definitely putting himself in danger by not trying to do something like restrain him or have Armando give him a sedative or something. But it had been years since Grace had touched another person.
It would be easy to assume he kept rubbing his neck out of discomfort or because it hurt.
In reality, Grace felt so overwhelmed by the flood of neurochemicals in his brain that he was trying not to fully collapse in on himself.
He didn’t care if this man killed him.
At least he would die touching another human.