Chapter Text
On the 29th of October 2019, marine geologists observed irregularities on the sea floor of a region in the Pacific Ocean roughly 2600 km from the island of Honolulu. Shortly after that, seismic detectors around the Ring of Fire reported increased geological activities that further supported their initial findings. While anomalous, nothing of note happened with the odd geological activities observed in the Pacific, save for a few minor earthquakes. It was eclipsed by the terrifying yet astonishing discovery of the Petrova line that linked the Sun and Venus, and the establishment of the Petrova Taskforce that started the Project that was set to save the infected star. On the 28th of October 2022—just a day shy from the 3rd year since the discovery of the anomalous geological activity in the Pacific—the first Kaiju attack hit San Francisco.
Ryland Grace was far from California when he saw the news of the attack. He was on a boat, somewhere in the South China Sea, about to pass out after 28 hours of material tests, astrophage experiments and meetings with other team leaders regarding the final phases of the Project when the tinny voice of a Chinese news anchor delivered the report of the disaster. He'd been on the boat long enough to learn a few phrases and words from the Chinese crew, and what he heard only made the pit in his stomach worse than it already was.
He caught "monster", "San Francisco", "casualties", "destruction". He caught more words than that, but he could barely process any of it as the visuals of his ruined city flashed on the small screen of the television. Ryland felt his heart drop when he recognized the what was left of the Golden Gates in the haze of the fog, then it cut to a street—trashed and almost unrecognizable—littered with upturned vehicles and chunks of buildings on the asphalt. He saw a familiar shopfront that he used to pass by as he biked to school in the morning, he wondered if the school was—
His kids. Oh God.
If the attack was happening right now, if he took into account the timezones and the slight delay of information from one side of the Pacific to the other, then there was a chance—no he refused to think about it. He can't. Oh God, the reason he joined the Project was for his kids, if they were in any way, in the eye of the proverbial hurricane—
Ryland didn't know how, but he suddenly found himself hunched over the railing of the ship, puking the coffee and sandwich he had for dinner that night into the ocean below. His ears were ringing, his heart was about to beat out of his chest, his hands were clammy and his vision danced with dark spots that funnily reminded him of astrophage cells.
Don't think, don't think, don't think. Do. Not. Think!
He let out a strangled noise that he wasn't aware that he could do, then began to hyperventilate, and man, the accumulated stress and pressure from being the lead scientist of the Project did not help his current state at all. Ryland backed himself up a wall and slid down, tucking his head into himself and curling up like a rolly polly bug. It probably won't help in regulating his breathing but all he wanted to do right now was to become as small as possible. He began to count and sync his breathing, he did not want to pass out on the deck of a ship after all.
One…two…three…
His breathing slowed, but he still felt like disappearing. Ryland took out his phone from his pocket—almost dropping it with how much his hand shook—and dialed a number he knew by heart. It beeped for a few seconds, then went to voicemail as it usually does. He waited for the recorded voice to finish, then said: "I know you won't get this Colt, service is non-existent in the middle of the ocean after all—" he wheezed out a weak laugh—"But I really, really need to talk. You don't have to answer, I just need to…talk."
•••
Colt hasn't been able to feel calm since the news of the San Francisco attack. He called Jody about it the moment the breaking news segment interrupted his daytime television reality show. She was away across the pond, pitching another movie for a studio in the UK. He'd have gone with her, but he stayed this time since he was supposed to give his brother a surprise visit in California (which was currently a real life Godzilla movie set, but it's not really Godzilla, although the city was still being trashed like it was Godzilla anyway) because the last time they talked was back when he was in the town of Rock Bottom (population: Colt Seavers), and he wanted to apologize for being an asshole and pushing Ryland away and—
His attention was back onto the news segment when the news anchor delivered the updated estimate of civilian casualties. "…Three hundred thousand injured, fifteen thousand two hundred twenty two deceased, and more than thirty thousand five hundred thirty one missing," the news anchor solemnly reported. "These are rough estimates, and are more likely to fluctuate in the coming hours. The monster has moved further inland, leaving behind a trail of destruction in its wake. We'll be monitoring further developments in the attack, so stay tuned…"
Colt lowered the volume until it was almost mute. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, he couldn't help but worry about his brother. He's been calling for the past hour, but it keeps going to Ryland's voice mail.
"C'mon Ry, pick up." He wondered briefly if Ryland changed his number, or maybe the towers in San Francisco were dead from the attack. His mind never dared to associate those digits on the TV with the current status of his brother. He didn't know what he'd do if he did.
This time, the number was unreachable when he called it again. He decided to switch tactics and send a message instead. Colt's eyes briefly flicked towards the messages Ryland sent him that went unanswered. Most were just his name, then a couple of updates about his life and career, and one message that was dated almost three years ago.
Ryland: If you don't hear from me, don't worry I'm alright. I'm not allowed to talk about what I'm doing, but rest assured, I'm alive and well :)
When he first saw that message, Colt assumed that his brother was done with his bullshit and has decided to cut contact for good. But his gut told him that Ryland wasn't the type to do that, much less to someone who's the last semblance of family that he had left on Earth. Then he wondered if his brother is under witness protection, and he decided to roll with that. How a middle school science teacher ended up in witness protection? He had no idea. Then again, who was he to talk when he almost got caught up in a showbiz murder conspiracy just a couple of years ago.
Ryland sent him a few more messages, but all were cryptic. He recognized them as names of locations—he was going to a lot of places, it seemed. Was he going on a midlife crisis world tour?—and the word (acronym?) "Vat" appeared a lot. The latest text was the aforementioned term, followed by the flag of China for some reason. It was from a few days ago.
He typed his message and sent it.
Colt: Ry are u alright? Where are u?
He hoped that his brother would respond immediately. He knew his brother would respond immediately because unlike him, Ryland didn't leave people on read. Colt tried to go on about his day as normally as he could, but the black cloud of dread that hung above him never left.
At 5pm, Colt received a message.
He first thought was that it was Jody messaging him about her pitch, but then he saw his brother's name on the notification bar. He quickly opened the message app and saw what his brother had to say. It was a voice message. He shot his phone volume up to full and held it up to his ear to hear the message.
"I know you won't get this Colt, service is non-existent in the middle of the ocean after all—" Ryland laughed weakly—"But I really, really need to talk. You don't have to answer, I just need to…talk."
"I'm sure you know I've been busy. Really busy. I'm okay, a little tired but I'm okay. But uh…things are just…" a sniffle came from his brother, "San Francisco…I'm pretty sure you saw what happened. I wish I could visit you in LA—that's where you were last time, right? Uh, anyway…I can't though, since I'm nowhere near America right now."
Relief flooded Colt, he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Ryland was alive. He was far from the attack.
"The work I've been doing…I wish I could tell you—I'm not sure I have the authority to do so, but I've been trying to save the world, if you can believe that," Ryland let out a wobbly chuckle before he continued. "I think…it feels like I've done all of that for nothing. I was doing this for my kids, they're supposed to be back in California living and learning and hoping that the world didn't come to crud before third period, and then that…thing appeared and everything just—" Ryland blew out a shaky breath and fell silent for a few seconds. If Colt listened hard enough, he thought he could hear waves lapping against the hull of a boat.
"I'm working to give my children a future, Colt. It's hard. It keeps getting harder and I don't know if I can give them a chance for tomorrow because the sun decided to die earlier than expected and now monsters are coming out of the sea like we're in some cheesy sci-fi movie. What's next? Super intelligent aliens from some distant star decides to build a cosmic highway over our solar system?" Another long pause, then a sniffle, "Uh, yeah. So if you get this, you don't have to answer to my dumb rant. But it'd be nice to hear from you, though. L…Later, Colt."
The message ended, and Colt felt empty and relieved at the same time. He was happy to hear from his brother, alive and well, but at the same time he felt terrible because he'd been ghosting Ryland for so long. With zero hesitation, he dialed his brother's number again. A few seconds later, the line picked up.
"Colt?"
•••
After six hours of constant bombardment from fighter jets, military helicopters and tanks, the Kaiju was shot down and exterminated. Three cities were destroyed, over a million civilians were reported dead, and even more were displaced from their homes. The infrastructure casualties were in the trillions, and a nationwide state of emergency was declared. The dead were mourned and honored, then people began to rebuild. Life moved on, but the San Francisco attack was just the first of many.
Project Hail Mary, the primary countermeasure against the astrophage issue, was put on hold indefinitely between the first Kaiju attack and the second one that razed the city of Manila on Christmas Eve of 2022. During that period, Ryland was sent back home to America and was told to stand by. He could still remember the hollowed look Eva Stratt sent him as she dismissed him temporarily.
"Times are uncertain, Dr. Grace," she said. "I doubt prayers would be enough to help us this time." That was the last thing she ever said to him before he was PJ-ed home.
After the attack on Manila, more coastal cities were ravaged by the titanic beasts. It then became clear that these attacks won't be ceasing any time soon. The astrophage problem was now more or less forgotten. When you have monsters constantly destroying the coast, maybe the microscopic alien eating the sun should get knocked a peg down the global priority list. It's still there of course, but if you weigh the 30 year ice age doomsday against the actual doomsdays being birthed out of the Pacific…it's a no brainer that the scales tip towards the monster problem.
As it turns out, Kaiju blood was very, very toxic, and the entirety of San Francisco and nearby cities were evacuated and deemed uninhabitable. The upper half of the Californian coastline was turned into a quarantine zone reminiscent of Chernobyl. That also meant that Ryland was now homeless (considering he hadn't paid his apartment rent since he joined the Taskforce, he was homeless either way). Colt came in clutch and offered him to stay at his and Jody's place in LA. He turned down his brother's offer at first, but eventually relented because he missed Colt and wanted to spend time with him as much as possible before he was called back onto the Project.
While the world around him was actively ending, much more quickly than he would've preferred, Ryland went back to teaching. It wasn't really the same as it was back in Grover, and more often than not he'd see his past students in some of his current ones, but at least he had something to do for the meantime. He didn't have his solar system model, or the jars of preserved specimens, or even his jacob's ladder, but he did have his passion to teach science, his students' eagerness to learn, and a surplus of lava bean bags and other knitted items. Yes, he knits, and he actually enjoys it. The Project kept him on his toes, but there were days when things would mellow out for a bit and he'd find himself in his cramped office knitting away the day's problems.
Apparently a monster attack wasn't enough to crash the housing market (dang it), or lower rent to costs that are feasible on a teacher's salary in California, so Ryland still lived with Colt and Jody. He shrunk down most of his personal belongings to be able to fit into two medium sized suitcases, because being the lead scientist of the Project required him to be able to move from one place to another almost at a weekly basis, which made moving in with his brother less stressful than it should have been. He still biked to work, not because he cared about the environment—oh he definitely cared, but excessive carbon emissions is how one should care for the environment now that the climate's gone to whack—or because of his salary, but simply because he missed the feeling.
Colt and Jody weren't around the house much, both having packed schedules of filming and meetings, leaving Ryland to hold down the fort most of the time. But when the three of them were home at the same time, they made the most out of it with movie nights, karaoke battles and board game dinners with the couple's friends in the industry. Ryland wasn't sure he would get along with Jody when they first met but oh was he wrong. She had his penchant for science and pop culture puns, vintage sci-fi films, and teasing the hell out of his brother. They now tag team Colt in beating him at video games and crushing him in karaoke, and the latter was almost regretting ever letting them become friends with how impeccable their teamwork was against him.
There was not much of normal to go around anymore, and Ryland was determined to keep what normalcy he had left before the Project and the Kaijus.
It was on a Thursday that he met Marissa by chance in a line inside a coffee shop.
"Ryland?" he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and saw the astonished expression his old friend wore, as if she saw someone who was supposed to be dead for a long time.
"Marissa!" The man exclaimed, "Oh my—It's so good to see you, how have you been?"
"How have I been? How have you been?" She asked incredulously. "You didn't show up on Thursday, and when I went around asking about you, the school said you never showed up to class and just disappeared from the face of the Earth! What—what the hell—Where the hell have you been, Ryland?"
Oh, yeah. He left for the Project without even leaving a note. To an outsider's perspective, it might've looked like he went on the run for committing some crime the FBI hadn't figured out yet or was forcibly disappeared by said agency (which had some grain of truth, he was recruited against his will by Stratt in the first place after all).
"Ah, it's a funny, fairly long story," he chuckled sheepishly. "You might wanna sit down for this."
"Your excuse better be worth it," Marissa grumbled. "I have a meeting with my boss in two hours."
Now it was probably poor etiquette to just blatantly spill out government secrets inside a coffee shop, but hey, the government's busy with mountain sized threats at the moment. It wasn't like he signed any NDAs about the Project anyway (maybe he did, Ryland can't really remember), but he's had this conversation with Colt and Jody months ago, and no secret sniper hired by Stratt has taken him out. Yet.
Forty five minutes and two cold venti cups of coffee later, Marissa could only stare blankly at the table before her.
"Of course they'd choose you," she sighed in disbelief. "Only you are crazy and stubborn enough to believe that unorthodox view on non-water based extraterrestrial life, of course they'd turn to you to study astrophage."
"Eh, I was still technically proven wrong by the little buggers," Ryland shrugged.
"Right. Astrophage is made up mostly of water."
"Yup. Those little guys can also store up a heck ton of energy that could make an entire city go ka-boom if you use them wrong."
"Wh—How?"
"It's a longer story."
Marissa rubbed her forehead, "This is…a lot to take in. I've heard whispers of a secret project going around the DOE, but I never expected you to be second in command."
"Oh no, I'm not. I was just recruited as a scientist for the Project."
"Ryland, your humility is so insulting sometimes," Marissa rolled her eyes. "So that's where you've been for the past three years? What about now? Is the Project finished?"
Ryland drummed his fingers on the table, "No, not exactly. The Project was put on hold considering…the current state of things. I'm back to teaching kids right now, and gosh, the workload is like cakewalk compared to what I was doing for the Hail Mary." He leaned back on his chair and asked, "So what about you? What have you been up to while I was away?"
"Oh you know," Marissa sighed. "Same old, same old. I got promoted, I got a raise, moved from San Francisco, started pottery classes, and I got engaged."
"You got what?"
The woman smiled bashfully as she held up her hand, brandishing the silver band around her ring finger.
"Oh my gosh! Congratulations, Marissa." Ryland beamed. "When did…?"
"Charlie asked me a few months ago, on an impromptu museum date to a local gallery that happened to have displayed a catalogue of pieces from my favorite artist." she gazed warmly at her ring, "He told me he had a whole speech prepared, something about the world ending and spending it with the person he'd love in any lifetime, all that cheese. But he just ended up kneeling down, tripping over nothing like a dork, and me saying yes anyway." They shared a chuckle at the mental image.
"I'm glad it all worked out with Charlie. Last I heard of him, you were still going to your second date with the guy." Ryland said.
"Mmhmm. Time sure flies when you're with the right person." Marissa sighed dreamily.
Ryland couldn't help but feel happy for his friend, then he was shortly reminded of DuBois and Shapiro, and their badly hidden clandestine affair on the Vat. He wondered how they were doing right now, did they continue their romantic connection now that the Project wasn't pressuring them with a time limit? His thoughts were interrupted when Marissa inquired:
"I wonder, how come the Project was never revealed to the public? Surely something as big as saving the Sun wouldn't go under the radar of the public eye."
That was the very thing Ryland was debating about with the other members of the Project before everything went wrong: The Project was supposed to go public in its final phases before the launch in April 2023. The media and press would be debriefed, the Hail Mary crew would be publicly interviewed, heck, even he was supposed to hold a press conference at some point explaining the Project in layman's terms and answering clarifications about the specifics.
"It was supposed to," he said. "But then the Kaiju happened and—" he blew a raspberry. "Hail Mary's in limbo, unless we figure out the monster problem, I don't think we'd be sending anyone to save stars anytime soon."
"Nuts."
Ryland agreed, "Nuts."
The conversation lulled before Marissa asked him another question, "So you're now living here in LA?"
"Yeah. I'm staying at my brother's place."
"Oh." she hummed, then she paused. "Oh. So that's—Oh my God." there was a hint of amusement in her voice.
"What's up?" Ryland raised an eyebrow, wondering what was so funny about crashing on his brother's sofa.
"Wait, you don't know?"
"Know what?" If he was being honest, there was a bunch of stuff that he didn't know after being immersed in the Project. He was once called 'unc' for using a meme from 2019 by one of his students just last week. While that did no damage to his ego, it was clear that he's already behind the current trends of the chronically online youth.
"I once thought that you were living a double life as a stuntman on the run," the woman laughed. "Your face—no wait, scratch that—your brother's face, was pretty much plastered across Australian news and the internet during the latter half of 2019, y'know?"
"What?" the man's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, until Marissa pulled up her phone and showed him an article that rightfully made him drop his jaw.
"Colt did what?"
•••
There were many things that Colt has learned working as a stunt double in the movies: stretch before you do backflips, triple check your safety harness, don't raid the catering table before doing any stunts unless you want to puke all over the set, and people in suits coming up to your porch holding up their FBI badges are almost always bad news. The last one was from some niche film he worked on during his early career, and boy was he surprised that that advice would come in handy one day.
"Special Agent Carl, FBI," the man said from behind the door. The man on his porch sounded like he was here on some serious business.
"I'm looking for Dr. Ryland Grace."
Uh oh. Were they here to arrest his brother for knowingly sharing confidential information about Project Hail Mary? They're going to arrest him too, aren't they? Shiiiiiit.
He knew that there were only two ways this was going to go: 1.) He'd let them in like a good, normal American citizen would and cooperate with their demands, or 2.) Kick names, take ass and give them a reason to really arrest him. For the sake of his brother and girlfriend, he'll be going with option number one.
Colt cracked the door open and peeked out. Special Agent Carl raised an eyebrow, "Dr. Grace?"
"He's not here."
"And who might you be?"
"Colt." Stranger danger rule number one: You don't give your name out to strangers. "Colt Seavers." Good job, you might as well just hop into the strange man's car after he gave you suspicious looking candy.
"Ah," Carl said with a slight tone of surprise in his voice. "So that's why you were familiar."
Of course, Colt knows why people think he's familiar. He was the ex-double for the infamous Tom Ryder after all. It was also not long ago that he was a very well known victim of identity theft and celebrity conspiracy.
"Yeah," Colt cleared his throat. "Ryland isn't here right now so, you guys should just come back la—"
"I take it that he has told you about his work on Project Hail Mary, yes?" asked Carl.
Shiiiiiiiit. They bugged the house, there's definitely hidden mics and cameras in the house. Option number two has begun to look very attractive, oh no.
Colt smiled at the men, then hurriedly shut the door, only to be met by a solid force that prevented him from doing so. He fought the other guy on the other side of the door by pushing harder, only to be overpowered when two other suits barged in, medieval battering ram style. He got squished between the door and the wall, sharp pain shooting up his spine when his back made contact. He bit out a curse as his uninvited guests let themselves inside.
"I suggest you sit down, Mr. Seavers. We have a lot to talk about." Carl gave him a tight lipped smile.
"Oh, yeah? I suggest you talk about this!" Colt swung his fist.
•••
Ryland was upset.
He told his brother sensitive information about a very high profile international project, but Colt didn't think of telling him about his escapade in Australia?
Oh yes, he was upset.
One could say that he was…peeved. Excuse his French.
He stomped up the porch of the house, unaware of the black tinted SUV parked across the street. He didn't even question why the door was haphazardly cracked open, or the fact that the upper hinge was loose. The only thing on his mind right now was to yell at his brother for not telling him sooner.
"Colton Grace-Seavers, you have some explaining to do!" Ryland bellowed out once he stepped into the living room, only to be met by a very peculiar scene. One, his brother was seemingly hog tied on the couch, with three strange men in suits circling him like he was some game they hunted down. Two, Carl was there, holding down his brother, in a manner that he was unsure if it was bureaucratic incapacitation or softcore kink. Three, the living room looked like a hurricane went through it. Jody is not going to like that when she gets back.
"Oooh crap," Colt winced. "I'm in trouble, boys."
Carl shook his head in sympathy, "Full government name too. I can't help you there, pal."
"What—? Carl? What the heck are you doing—? Colt—? What's exactly happening here?" he exasperatedly gestured at the men in the living room.
"Well, dear brother of mine," Colt grunted from his position, "Special Agent Dipshit here decided to raid our house without a search warrant. I've never done any drugs, officer! I mean, I did once, but I didn't know I was being drugged. This is an abuse of power, I say!"
"We're able to use anything that you say against you in court, Mr. Seavers, so I suggest that you remain silent." Carl warned.
Ryland pinched that bridge of his nose, "Okay, okay. You and I," he pointed to his brother and himself, "will be unpacking Australia and that drug thing later. First, can you just—? Carl, please. Can you get off— please, just let go of my brother?"
"I don't know, Grace. Your brother here can pack a mean punch." said Carl as he gestured at his swollen eye.
"Ha!" Colt cackled.
"You're not making things easier, Colt." Ryland hissed.
Eventually, they did manage to calm down, and hesitantly untied Colt from his bindings.
"Don't worry lads, I don't bite." Colt flashed them a toothy grin as he rubbed his sore wrists. The FBI men were not impressed. Great, thought Ryland, everything's juuuuussst great.
He smacked the back of Colt's head lightly, "Hey Señor Reckless, get yourself and these fellows some ice packs. I'm pretty sure you have enough to go around."
Colt gave him a weak glare, but rolled his eyes and went to the kitchen to get the ice.
He sat next to Carl, "You alright, man?" he asked.
The agent only nodded, "'Tis but a scratch."
That made Ryland break out into a grin and pat the agent's shoulder, "It's good to see you, Carl."
"It's good to see you too, Grace." Carl smiled back.
Colt returned from the kitchen with an armful of ice packs. He begrudgingly handed them out towards the battered agents, then finally plopped down on a couch across the FBI guys and nursed his own bruises. Now that they had what could be described as relative peace, Ryland spoke up, "Okay. So we may have all gotten on the wrong foot earlier."
He gave his brother an accusatory look before continuing, "It's alright to be cautious of strangers on the porch, but we don't punch people we don't know in the face now, do we Colton?"
Colt grimaced and said, "Don't use your teacher voice on me, Ry, I swear—"
Ryland held his fist up, the universal teacher signal for shut up, or I'm docking points off of your attendance. The other man promptly shut his mouth, but grumbled under his breath. "Carl," he turned to the agent beside him, "I'm sorry for my brother, but maybe barging into someone's house isn't the best first impression most people would appreciate now is it?"
"I was just following protocol," the agent mumbled under his breath.
"Okay, now—Colt, apologize to these men."
"Uh, no?" said Colt indignantly, waving his ice pack in the air. "If anything, they should apologize to me first!"
"Gosh darn it, these guys wouldn't have had any reason to tie you up if you didn't provoke them first!"
Colt opened his mouth to say something, but his brother interrupted him. "Don't try to make excuses."
The former closed his mouth and groaned. "This is humiliating," he said. He stood from the couch and said, "Sorry for beating your asses. Won't do it again, sirs."
"I mean, the next time you try to do that again, we will arrest you." said one of the FBI agents. His partner elbowed him and hissed, "Shut the fuck up, Steve." Carl only rolled his eyes at that. Ryland cleared his throat, giving Carl a look and cocking his head towards his brother. The agent sighed and waved at the other two to stand up, "We apologize for any transgressions. We're simply following government protocol, and any excessive use of force we might have done is purely of our own error." he held out his hand for Colt to shake.
The man scoffed and shook it, "Whatever, man."
The men sat back down on their chairs. Ryland let out a satisfied huff, "Now isn't that nice?" His experience in wrangling kids and their petty arguments has finally paid off. Colt only gave him an unamused glare and resumed pressing his ice pack onto his forehead.
"So Carl," said Ryland. "What are you doing here?"
Carl gave him a knowing look, and that immediately gave him a clue to what the agent was there for. He got a weird sense of de ja vu.
"Oh," Ryland said flatly. He noticed his brother sit up straighter in front of him, clearly aware of the shift in the atmosphere.
"When?" he asked the agent.
"Now." Carl answered.
The room fell heavy and silent. Ryland knew that this was bound to happen sooner or later—he just didn't expect that it'd be this soon, if two years and more than a half could be considered soon relatively speaking. He looked at Colt, who was watching him intently. He was going to have to leave everything behind again. This time however, his resolve was stronger than before. Not only was he doing this for his kids, he was now also doing this for Colt and his future.
His gaze finally fell on his own hands, "I see." After a beat, he continued. "You guys can wait outside. I won't be long."
The agents shuffled out, leaving the two brothers alone in the living room.
Ryland wordlessly left for his room, his brother following despite not being prompted to. Moving in wasn't much of a hassle, so he supposed that moving out wouldn't be difficult. But something about those two suitcases felt heavier than they looked, and he knew that it wasn't their combined mass. He began packing, aware of his brother watching him from the doorway.
"Time to save the world again?" Colt leaned on the doorframe and crossed his arms.
Ryland let out a short chuckle, "Yep. It sucks that it has to be now, I was supposed to go back to school after lunch for last period. Plus, the kids were excited for the unit next week: Electric currents." He stuffed another shirt into his suitcase. Ironically, the print on the shirt said 'This guy's OHM-azing' with the symbol for electric resistance replacing the 'O'. "I promised them that I'd show up with a simple light and switch board for demo but—" he sighed—"I guess that's just another promise I won't be able to keep with my students."
Colt didn't say anything, so he continued to rant. "Man, I also need to whip up a lesson plan for the sub, it'd be cruddy of me if I didn't give the sub a hint of what the kids were supposed to be learning. I'd hate it if they ended up just reading from the textbook, that's lazy teaching, y'know? Ah bummer, I gotta call the school and draft a resignation letter too." He finished packing his sweaters, shirts and pants, now he was moving onto his personal items and undergarments.
"When will you come back?" asked Colt. Ryland paused from packing and stared ahead, "I…I don't know," he shrugged his shoulders. "The Project can be unpredictable sometimes. I mean, there were times when I went around the world in just a single week, followed by an entire month of staying in one place, then hitting the road again. And admin stuff alongside the science stuff definitely kept me busy, so I don't…I won't be home for a long, long while."
After a moment, Colt asked again, "You'd still be able to call, right?"
"Of course!" exclaimed Ryland. "I mean, I'd be able to if I'm somewhere with cell service. The majority of the Project was on a Chinese carrier in the ocean, so I wasn't able to call you much, but yeah. I'll send you an update every now and then, like I used to."
Colt hummed, then he said, "I'm sorry I never called back."
Ryland was almost finished packing. He only had his tiny bag of bean bags left on his nightstand and a few more things. He looked at his brother and smiled softly, "That was a long time ago. I understand that…you were going through a lot, and I wasn't a stellar brother by any means," he got up from his bed and stepped closer towards the other man. "I should've tried harder to be there for you."
"Ryland, don't say that—"
"What I'm trying to say is," he interrupted. "I'm not perfect, neither are you. But at least we try to be better than who we were before anyway." He smiled, which his brother mirrored. "By the way," he added as he went back and closed his suitcase, "I'm still going to scold your ear off about your little stunt in Australia once things settle down."
Colt chuckled and shook his head, "Don't worry, Jody's got that covered."
"I'm sure she does," Ryland agreed. "Tell her bye for me?"
"Sure."
The brothers went outside, each carrying one of Ryland's suitcase. Carl met them and signaled the other two agents to handle the baggage. "You ready, Grace?" he asked.
"Yeah," the man replied. "I just hope it's another PJ this time. I dread riding a fighter jet."
"No flying this time," assured Carl.
"Oh thank God."
"You were on a fighter jet?" Colt asked in astonishment.
"Once and never again," Ryland shuddered.
He stopped for a moment and turned to look at his brother. "Well," he started, "I'll see you later, Colt."
"See you later, Ry." Colt then engulfed him in a hug that he returned. Ryland didn't want to let go so soon, but he knew that he needed to get going. "Here's something to remember me by," he handed his brother a bean bag.
"Psh, like I'd forget you?" Colt huffed.
Ryland shook his head and smiled, "I know you're a softie under all that, Colt. You're a sentimental dork."
Colt playfully punched his shoulder, "Shut up."
Ryland laughed.
"Alright. Now, go save the world, Dr. Grace. Don't let the fame get to your head though." Colt joked. Ryland rolled his eyes and waved goodbye. As he went inside the SUV, he glanced at his brother one final time.
Colt held up a thumbs up.