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To most people, the ability to see that legendary, almost mythical red thread would be nothing short of a miracle. For Ryland Grace, however, it’d proven more a slow, creeping existential horror than anything else his whole life.
He could still remember that day, aged three or so, when he’d first brought it up to his parents - questioning suddenly during breakfast why there was a red thread connecting them, tied to their pinky fingers. His dad had stilled, standing in stunned silence, while his mom had gasped in shock, quickly moving to kneel before him, asking if he truly could see a red thread connecting them. He’d nodded, a bit confused as to his parents reactions, and they’d only reacted further, both gasping in shock at the same time.
His mother had taken it upon herself, then, to teach young little Ryland all about the red thread. She taught him about soulmates - the concept that pairs of people would be inexplicably drawn to each other no matter what, all throughout their lives, all because of this little red thread. A little red thread that many people even refused to believe existed - it was too outlandish, too fantastical to believe. Still, there were too many myths, whispers and legends of it to completely rule it out - and here stood little Ryland Grace as living proof of its existence. And then his mother had told him he couldn’t tell anyone about his ability.
While it had been a confusing and upsetting thing to be told as a child, the older he got, the more it all made sense to him. If he were to reveal he had such an ability, he’d either be seen as a laughingstock, a specimen to study, or both. It was human nature to be curious, after all - as he grew older, his love for science changing from a little sprout in the ground to a massive, flowering tree, he knew all too well the consequences of human curiosity. Of the dangers it could bring, the destruction it had wrought all throughout human history. An ability like his was not one to share, to be proud of. It was something to hide.
Still, it gave him a rather unique glimpse into humanity and the lives around him; the complexities of the human social system, its structure and relationships as a whole. Reading theoretical papers on the subject was nothing when he could actually see that little red thread so furiously debated about. And he had long since discovered that that little red thread did not work by any of the rules set upon it by scientists, or society as a whole.
He’d seen pairs of siblings walking together, chatting animatedly while a little red thread bounced between them, occasionally pulling tight the closer they got. He’d seen mothers holding their children, the red thread mere inches long as they soothed their crying young. He’d seen married couples galore with red threads connecting them, as well as plenty of married couples without a red thread - with many who remained happy and content, and with many who split after suffering. He’d seen best friends tied together, seen the light in people’s eyes as they met a total stranger at the end of their own red thread, seen many a people fall in love and many a people remain no more than friends.
Even with how entangled he’d find himself (consciously or unconsciously) in other peoples business, he didn’t altogether hate his ability. He was a scientist by nature, after all - forever wondering, forever curious - and to have a front row seat to a phenomenon so misunderstood, so unknown, so debated, was priceless.
It was his own red thread, though, that proved to be the biggest problem in his ability.
The most terrifying.
Because of all the red threads he’d ever seen, he’d never seen one like his.
He’d never seen one go all the way up into the air, entirely off of Earth altogether.
⋆⭒˚.⋆ ——— ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆———⋆⭒˚.⋆
The red thread tied to his pinky was one of the first things he’d noticed upon waking up in the ship. Of course, in the chaos of waking and trying to figure out just what he was doing here and why, a red thread tied to one of his fingers didn’t matter much to him - that was, however, until he realized that the thread was going outside the ship, pulled in the exact same trajectory of his apparent mission.
The meaning of the red thread took a few days to fully filter back into his mind. The moment it did, though, he felt flooded with far too many emotions to count - anticipation, anxiety, dread, excitement among them. All his life, he’d wondered why his soulmate seemed to not be on Earth, but it seemed far too ridiculous of an idea to accept, even with how obvious it was made to him. There was just no way his soulmate could actually be an alien … right?
Even here in space, his mind fought with itself. Surely, oh surely the being at the end of the thread would be another human, right? But had they sent humans besides him into space? Had there been other missions besides his own? Surely there must have been. Surely —
And then he saw the other ship. So golden, so magnificent, so… not of human origin. The ship wasn’t the most surprising aspect, however - no, the most surprising part was that his little red thread ended somewhere in that ship.
His soulmate was in an alien craft. His soulmate was orbiting the exact same star he’d been sent to.
He must’ve been the unluckiest lucky bastard on earth, huh?
From the moment he saw the ship, he pondered over what his soulmate would be like. What they’d look like. Even with all the depictions of aliens in pop culture, there was only so much truth in such speculation - real aliens likely wouldn’t even come close to resembling whatever humans could dream up.
And then he held a capsule in his hands, one his soulmate had sent him - perhaps even crafted with their own hands - and awed at the craftsmanship. The figures held within were even more spectacular - enough so that he felt tears prick at the very edges of his eyes. (So he was emotional, he’d just found another being after being alone and confused for weeks in space - sue him!) Was it a gift? It felt like a gift - especially considered who’d sent it, but he didn’t want to give himself false hope on its purpose, nor be so arrogant as to assume humanity important enough to receive gifts from this undiscovered alien race.
Next had come the tunnel, with that little red thread pulled taut towards the end of it, and Grace somehow felt himself hesitating. This was the moment he’d been wondering, pondering, dreaming of his entire life - the moment he’d finally see the being at the end of that thread, the one meant to be his soulmate. The mystical being meant to be the one who trusts him, cares for him, is drawn to him more than anyone else in the world - no, in the universe. Was that being truly going to be an alien?
And then came the tapping against the glass-like substance at the end of the tunnel, in response to his own. The rock-like claw, just barely visible. The alien creature slowly coming into view, just as hesitant as him - with that little red thread tied around one of its claws.
How he didn’t just pass out in the moment from the countless overwhelming realizations crashing into him all at once, he didn’t know. Standing before him was an alien. An alien!! He was the first human to come into contact with an alien!!! And yet, this was no ordinary alien (if that even existed - could aliens really be called ordinary? He’d need to figure out a different phrasing for that later) either - this was his soulmate, for crying out loud.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise, then, to discover the alien - whom he’d dubbed Rocky - was an engineer. Of course his soulmate would be similarly scientifically minded. Rocky was quickly proving himself voraciously curious - even more so than the students Grace had taught back on Earth. Curious, energetic and very blunt.
He didn’t bring it up to Rocky at first. For a while, actually. In between breaking down a language barrier, figuring out the taumoeba and near-death experiences, the topic barely even graces his mind. It’s not like he can easily bring it up in daily conversation, either - Rocky’s proven himself to be very, very endlessly curious about everything human, and Grace just knows that the topic of soulmates and red threads would constitute a several hour long presentation at the least, if not more than a full day.
He doesn’t even realize how much he’d regret it, though, until he was resting alone in the Hail Mary again for the first time in weeks - when it dawns upon him that he never said anything. That his red thread is stretched quite long again now, far into the inky void of space. Not for the first time, he avoids even looking in that general direction - this time, though, out of a far deeper sense of grief than he’s ever felt before.
And then he discovers the taumoeba problem, and what it spells out - Rocky’s death. His soulmate’s death. Without a seconds thought, he hastily begins traveling back to Rocky’s ship to save him.
And he is thankfully able to save Rocky, even though it means giving up on returning to Earth - which is a whole mess of grief in and of itself, but he’s far too happy over being reunited with Rocky to care. At first.
It hits him, truly hits him, about four days into their journey to Erid. He’s completely and entirely leaving Earth behind. And not only is he leaving it behind, he’s moving to live on an alien planet, completely unknown to him, with none of the comforts of Earth.
It hits him hard that night. He finds himself quickly devolving from small hiccups to full on sobs - quickly alerting Rocky, who rushes to his side and trills soothingly at him for hours, until his tears finally begin to cease.
It’s two weeks later, once Grace has really started adapting to his new reality, that he remembers he still hasn’t brought up the topic of soulmates and that little red thread connecting them to Rocky.
Rocky is tinkering away on his latest project in the laboratory when Grace finds him - xenonite spread across his workspace as he fashions it together, weaving with the grace of an Earth spider making itself a web. Rocky had announced to Grace several days prior his plans to fashion himself a new xenonite suit - one far more flexible, so that he could touch Grace (who totally had not teared up at the news, no sirree.)
Well, get as close to touching him as physically possible without any actual physical touch, but you know. Semantics.
“Hey Rock?” He begins, setting down his cup of coffee as Rocky’s body stills in its movements, tilting slightly upwards towards Grace.
[“Yes? Grace have question?”]
“No, no. Actually, I wanted to tell you something.”
Rocky sets aside his xenonite entirely now, visibly perking up. [“Oh? What Grace have to say, question? New human thing?”]
Grace huffs a small smile, endlessly impressed with just how observant Rocky continued to prove himself to be. “Yeah, actually. I wanted to uh, explain a topic to you that I haven’t really brought up before.”
He sits down on the floor next to Rocky, getting himself as comfortable as he can in an attempt to fight off his nervousness. Rocky’s his soulmate, for crying out loud. Whether that’s platonic or romantic, they’re quite literally bound together - and even beyond that, Rocky has already proved himself trustworthy and caring again and again. Yet still, the fear of rejection remains, a near impossible to get rid of byproduct of silly human anxiety.
“You remember all the romance movies and shows we’ve watched, right?”
[“Yes, Humans obsessed with romance. Comes up in so many movies.”] Rocky replied matter-of-factly,
“Yeah. Do you remember any of them talking about soulmates?”
[“Yes. Term come up often. Rocky thought Grace say humans don’t call partners mates, though, question?”]
“Yeah, but that’s because the term soulmate doesn’t necessarily mean the same thing that the term mate does for Eridians. Soulmates aren’t inherently romantic, even though most people seem to think that.” Grace pushed his glasses up a slight bit further onto the bridge of his nose, the fingers of his other hand fiddling with the fabric of his shirt in his nervousness. Ugh, he hated how much the anxiety was frying his nerves. “Anyways, there’s a common theory about soulmates that’s been brought up a lot. Theory, because there hasn’t been enough concrete proof of it. But the theory states that there’s a red thread connecting people to their soulmates.”
[“If red thread connects soulmates, why is it theory, question? Cannot see?”]
“Well, that’s actually exactly why. The majority of people cannot see this thread, which is why most people just think it’s a fairytale imagined by the mentally ill. But, uh. Well.” How should he even say this? Ugh. “I can see that red thread.”
[“Grace sees important red thread, question? Oh, Rocky knew Grace special! One of few humans to see it! Grace special special special.”]
Grace tried to not blush under the praise, but he felt himself flush pink regardless. “Yeah, I guess I am special in that regard.”
Rocky clicked excitedly for a few moments before pausing, and Grace could practically see the gears in his mind whirring away. [“Grace say he have no partner, though. You have no red thread, question?”]
Grace’s grip on the fabric of his shirt tightened, anxiety bubbling up through him strongly enough to actually make him feel the slightest bit nauseous. Oh, this was so stupid. He shouldn’t be this nervous, as though Rocky would ridicule or reject him, of all things. They’d saved each others lives. Spent hours, days, weeks talking about anything and everything. He knew Rocky cared deeply for him - but anxiety wasn’t always exactly rational, was it?
“I do have a red thread.” He finally admitted, his voice quiet.
[“Then why Grace not say so earlier? Who? Another human from Earth, question? Grace leave behind soulmate, like Rocky, question?”]
“No, no buddy.” He rushed to quell Rocky’s anxiety before it could begin, before swallowing, steeling himself. “No, not another human.” He lifted his hand at this, stretching out his pinky as the red thread swayed with the movement. He could do this. “Actually, it’s you.”
Grace had never seen Rocky seem so surprised before. Rocky pointed at himself, clicking. Grace nodded. [“Grace soulmate is Rocky?”] Grace nodded again, and Rocky seemed to tilt, before clicking animatedly again. [“Rocky have red thread attached to him, question? Where where where?”]
Grace stuttered out a small laugh at just how excited Rocky was. He leaned forward, pointing towards the limb upon which the red thread ended, tied neatly around it. “Right there, bud.”
Rocky lifted said limb, somehow chittering even more animatedly than usual. [“Red thread there? Oh, makes sense! Red thread right below Rocky Adrian marriage symbol. Red thread like another marriage symbol.”]
“Wait, really?” Grace leaned even further forward on instinct, eyes widening. Sure enough, right above the red thread were two interlocked circles, carved ever so delicately onto the surface of Rocky’s limb. Grace sat back, marveling at the realization. “Yeah, yeah, I guess so. It kind of is, isn’t it?”
Rocky almost bounced up and down in his excitement. [“Rocky Grace soulmates! Amaze amaze amaze. What soulmate mean exactly, question? Grace said it different from Eridian mates.”]
“Uh, yeah, it is. A soulmate is basically someone you have a deep affinity for, or with. They’re someone who is by your side, challenging you, accepting you for all of you, and inspiring you to be your best self, I guess. Someone who you feel especially safe around. Someone who just… ‘gets’ you.” He went back to fiddling with the fabric of his shirt, much less anxiously now. “They’re meant to be a very important person in your life. One of the most important people in your life. And that bond can be platonic, romantic, familial, whatever.”
Rocky tilted back and forth in his xenonite suit, chirping slightly. [“Grace very important to Rocky. Grace Rocky partners and soulmates.”]
Grace felt tears begin to prick at the corners of his eyes as his face broke into a wide smile. “Yeah. Yeah we are, bud.”
The xenonite suit was warm to the touch as Grace wrapped his arms around it, relishing in the small clicking sound as Rocky pushed himself up and into the makeshift embrace.
As Grace sat there, on the floor of the Hail Mary, several light years away from Earth in a journey to his new home on an alien planet, in a makeshift embrace with the alien he’d come to accept as his soulmate, he felt such a potent wave of sheer joy flooding through every single inch of him. As he felt those tears slowly fall from his lashes, lips still smiling so wide it almost hurt, Grace felt something inside him settle, content at long last.
He had found his soulmate. Someone who cared for him, accepted him, loved him in spite of everything. For everything. And it was the singularly most comforting feeling he’d ever known.