Chapter Text
Twisting against the sheets, Grace whined high in his throat.
A wheeze snagged in his chest. Coughing, he curled in on himself, his grip tightening around Simon's xenonite palm. Simon combed his other hand through that sweaty blonde fringe, pushing it back before easing a kiss to his hot forehead. On an inhale, Grace's breath stuttered.
How much longer could his body take this?
Simon couldn't help but wonder. It had been a week of this brutal Eridian pneumonia and, at this point, his human body wasn't able to take hit after hit. The Eridian doctors weren't sure how to help him, either. “We will synthesize medicine,” Rocky had sung to Simon days ago. “We will fix him. He will not die.”
But he was only getting worse with time. More restless, more lost in feverish nightmares. He'd scream himself awake sometimes, begging and pleading and sobbing for her to stop.
Her.
Stratt, the woman he'd supposedly forgiven with tears in his eyes and a knot in his throat as he spoke about their past. He'd never told Simon just what, exactly, she'd done to him and he'd decided to never ask. Not when even thinking of her would carve the happiness out of Grace's bright, beautiful expression.
Bringing Grace’s hand up, Simon pressed his lips to his knuckles.
Too hot.
Another peck landed at the center of his palm. A third brushed just above the tattoo covering the rivulet of scar tissue underneath. He smoothed his thumb across Grace's eyebrow. Grace stirred, his lashes fluttering fast. His eyes opened–
Even now, sickly and weak, those eyes were the same electric blue that Simon had fallen for all those years ago when they’d both been lost to outer space.
He smiled down at Grace, whispering, “Hey.”
“When…” Grace's voice was hoarse. It cracked as he asked, “When did…you get here?”
Biting his tongue, Simon frowned.
Did he not remember the last time he'd woken up? It had only been about an hour ago. They'd talked, had spoken in hushed tones about everything they'd do when Grace had recovered: go on a walk, sit by the beach, relax as the fog descended around them in the early morning…
He said, “I never left, Ry.”
Grace hummed. When he blinked, his eyes refused to open once more. He asked, “Can I have some?”
“Some what?” Simon asked, his lips quirking up.
“That,” Grace mumbled. His eyes cracked open as he glanced beyond Simon’s shoulder. “The… The burger.”
A laugh snapped out of Simon, the first spark of joy he’d felt in days. Twisting around, he said, “What're you talking about?” As he turned back to Grace, he said, “You want a burger?” Good. Maybe his appetite was returning? Simon continued, “I can make some–”
“No, mm.” Grace's face pinched. “The burger there. It…” Finger shaking, he pointed to the dining room table behind Simon. “It looks really good.”
Simon’s smile slipped.
What?
He turned again, his gaze skittering over the dining room: lights lined the wall and, at the center of the table, some delicate xenonite flowers sat in an ornate pot.
Glancing back to Grace, he said, “There's no food over there.”
With a sloppy shake of his head, Grace groaned. “No, the…” He blinked fast. “The burgers. Over there. I think I'm hungry…”
Brows furrowing, Simon pressed his flesh hand to Grace’s forehead. That same raging heat met his skin.
Too fucking hot.
Shit.
“Hey, hey,” Simon hissed, cupping Grace's cheeks. “Can you hear me?”
Grace said, “Mhm. Loud.” He squinted up at Simon. “S’mn.” With a sigh, he sagged into the mattress. Coughs rattled his boneless body, unable to even fold over anymore. Choking, his eyes widened. Simon jammed an arm under his back and hauled him upright, immediately earning sharp gasps of relief from Grace.
Grace flopped against his chest.
The heat seared into Simon's skin at every point of contact: Grace's forehead pressing into his collarbone, Grace's side flush to his chest. Simon mumbled, “Oh, fuck.” He moved fast to gather the man up into his arms and, within a beat, he was rushing for the front door.
Kicking it open, Simon shuffled down the steps towards the roaring beach. Sand skidded under his bare feet. Heat from the day cycle settled like a brand against his shoulders.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Stumbling down to the waves, he plunged forward, wading in until the water was up to his knees. “Stay with me, Ryland. Stay with me.” He turned, the shore lapping the backs of his calves, and dropped.
Grace cried out against the shock of cold as Simon half-submerged him into the water. His fingers bit into Simon’s skin as he clung tight, his teeth chattering hard enough to hear over the thrumming waves. Carefully, Simon balanced Grace on his knees as he used one hand to cup cool water over his forehead and scalp, his heart wrenched up in his throat as Grace tried to pull away.
Tried, but failed, his body going limp as his fight faded within seconds. Instead, a whimper escaped him.
“It's okay, I've got you,” Simon murmured. “I'm here.”
Shivering against each other, Simon felt his breath catch on tears.
He choked them back. “Don't.” The words were more of a whisper than anything Grace would be able to hear. It didn't matter, this plea wasn't for his ears. “Please don't take him.”
Something across the biodome clicked. Simon glanced up towards the airlock, watching as Rocky and a group of Eridians scurried to get into their suits.
As the gate hissed open, Simon cried, “Rocky! Help him!”
The Eridians rushed down the beach, half-tripping in the sand in their scramble to get to them. Waves slammed into them. The rock creatures shouldered the brunt as Rocky chimed, “We've synthesized a medicine. We need to administer it now!”
“Okay, okay,” Simon said, nodding hard.
He watched as the Eridians did what he'd seen Armando do many times before: tie a band around Grace's bicep and ease a needle in. The Eridian injecting the medication trilled, “Medication administered.”
“Why are you in the water, question,” Rocky asked.
Simon looked down at Grace's pale face. “He was burning up. Hallucinating. I had to do something.”
“Smart thinking,” the Eridian doctor sang. “Human anatomy is susceptible to slight temperature variations. This likely saved his life.”
“Yeah,” Simon croaked. Swallowing hard, he asked, “How long will it take for this medication to work?”
“Not long,” Rocky hummed. “Within hours we should see a change.”
With a nod, Simon said, “Good.” Then, feeling Grace's face, he added, “I think he cooled down.” He’d also passed out. When had that happened? “I'm going to bring him inside again.”
With the help of the Eridians, Simon got Grace back in their house and into dry, fresh clothes. Settling him in bed, he hauled a sheet over Grace's body and sighed.
“Thank you,” he said to the Eridians crowding the bedroom. “For saving him.”
They sang their praises to them, exchanging pleasantries as they took their leave and, soon, Rocky had been the only one behind. He crawled onto the foot of the bed, dropping down with a chitter. “I'm going to stay,” he chimed. “I want to see him wake up.”
“Me too,” Simon mumbled under his breath. Slowly, he tucked himself against Grace's side, hauling him closer until there wasn't an inch of space between them. Against Grace's temple, he whispered, “You need to wake up soon, okay? I'm waiting.” He glanced down at Rocky. “We're waiting.”
With that, he shut his eyes.
All they could do now was wait.