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Ryland Grace is so, so kind to Simon Edenson that it makes him anxious. It shouldn’t. Nothing should make Simon nervous anymore, anything in his life that should scare him is well behind him now. But he supposes this is a side effect of… y’know, all the shit he went through.
That being said, Simon can’t help how feels, and feeling this way isn’t boding well for him on his 6th week on the Hail Mary. He’s been awake for two weeks, having been in a sort of coma from his injuries for his first four, and he’s still recovering from his injuries. Countless severe boils, gashes, a whole ass severed arm. The entirety of last week was dedicated to re-learning how to walk after losing ten pounds on one side of his body. The rest of Simon’s time that isn’t spent walking circles around the ship trying to regain his sense of balance is spent with Ryland and the thing– Rocky, was it?-- examining his mutations like he’s a zoo animal. That’s a little dramatic, honestly, Rocky does have issues with personal space, but Ryland is extremely respectful and does his best to prioritize Simon’s comfort. But he does get a little stir-crazy about the eccentricity of Simon’s affliction. Yeah, yeah, I have teeth jutting out of the side of my cheek, but can you take like, two steps backward? Thanks.
Ryland has done a lot to help make Simon feel comfortable on the Hail Mary, acknowledging that circumstances are “messed the heck up,” as he would say. It’s a bit of an understatement. Even Simon is aware that finding a rusted submarine full of blood and a mutated human man floating around in space is fucked up. Choosing to take the man in like a stray dog is probably equally as insane, but Simon’s not going to act like he isn’t grateful for having his life saved.
And that’s where the issue arises. Now that Simon isn’t unconscious, bedridden, nor tripping over his own feet, he feels useless. Ryland and Rocky are giving him everything he needs to keep him alive, even studying his body in the hopes of figuring out what the hell happened to him, how he got here, how he’s alive. Meanwhile, Simon is sitting around. Useless. Feeling guilty. Like he owes Ryland somehow. He thinks he does. He should, actually. Back on Eden, nothing would be done for anyone without them expecting some kind of repayment.
Which is why Simon finds himself now, standing by the entryway to the Hail Mary’s lab, leaning on the wall with his good arm. He’s watching Ryland fidget with something in one of the drawers, half-turned away from Simon. He hasn’t noticed Simon yet, and he’s so focused that his eyebrows are furrowed and the tip of tongue is sticking out of the side of his mouth. The rock is nowhere to be seen. Probably working on his own projects in one of his enclosures on the other side of the ship. Simon fidgets with the hem of his (formerly Ryland’s, as shown by the stupid science joke on it that Ryland had to explain to him) shirt, unsure what to do.
After a few more seconds of creepy staring, Simon clears his throat, just loud enough to catch Ryland’s attention. The blonde starts, looks in Simon’s direction, and immediately smiles. Simon notices his glasses are on properly, for once.
“Simon! Hey, what’s up? You feelin’ alright?” Ryland closes the drawer next to him, speaking, as usual, with the friendliest tone imaginable. Sometimes interacting with Ryland is like staring straight at the sun.
“Yeah, I, uh, I’m good. Just, y’know.” Simon gestures broadly down the hall, not sure what he means either, but Ryland seems to catch on to something. Absent-mindedly, Simon recalls him mentioning he used to be a middle school teacher and that he’s used to the mannerisms and language of kids.
“Taking a walk?”
“...Yeah.”
“Cool! Yeah, it’s good to make that a habit in here. It’s easy to feel a little claustrophobic sometimes.”
“I’m used to small spaces,” Simon comments without thinking.
Ryland blinks, visibly holding his breath. He looks unsure what to say for a solid ten seconds straight. It’s awkward. Simon considers leaving.
He moves on, pretending he said nothing. “So, uh. What are you…”
“Oh!” Ryland jumps, and his attitude quickly shifts, sitting up straight, the way he does when he’s about to teach, or talk about something he’s interested in. Feeling obligated to pay attention (also, he asked), Simon comes closer, standing across the counter from Ryland. The blonde grabs a clipboard from the counter behind him and sets it between him and Simon. “I’m taking inventory! And doing some organizing, while I’m at it. I’m not super great at keeping track of things and Rocky’s constantly ‘borrowing’ stuff without telling me, so every now and then I just go through the lab and take count of everything I’ve got. Nothing crazy, just. Routine.”
Simon rakes his eyes down the sheet of paper on the clipboard, which seems to be a handwritten catalogue of everything in the Hail Mary’s lab. It’s noticeably incomplete, but many items are color-coded in highlighter. Green for things that are all present, yellow for things that are missing one or two of the whole supply, and pink for things that are entirely missing. Also noteworthy is the fact that Simon doesn’t know what half of the shit listed is. What the hell is a Vernier Caliper?
“Ah,” is all Simon says in response. He doesn’t need to fret about it, though, because Ryland resumes talking quickly.
“It’s not like there’s anything to worry about if something is missing, it’s on the ship somewhere for sure. I highly doubt Rocky is like, launching several of our flasks into space for some reason. But it’s good to know in case either of us get some grand idea all of a sudden and we’re wondering, ‘shoot, where did my ruler go?’ It’s either in the lab or,” Ryland looks around and shrugs. “Somewhere else in here.”
“I see,” Simon says.
“It shouldn’t take too long, if you need me for whatever reason?”
“Oh, no, it’s not, I was just–” Simon sputters, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. He pauses to sigh and rein his thoughts in. Ryland is looking at him patiently, curiously. Like a dog. “I was wondering if you wanted help at all. With anything, I guess.”
Ryland blinks, seemingly surprised. Then he starts to deflect, refuse, like he always does whenever Simon offers to do so much as anything for him. “Oh, you don’t have to–”
“I want to,” Simon interrupts. “It’s– It’s the least I can do. Being here, using up your supplies, taking your time– let me do something.”
“Simon, you know you’re welcome here–”
“Please.” Simon takes a deep breath. “I want to contribute. To feel like I’m allowed to be here.”
Ryland opens his mouth to argue, but visibly decides it’s not worth it. That, or he has some other internal reason that’s good enough to override his stubbornness. He scratches at the back of his neck, chuckling. “Okay. Just– watch your step, alright? Rocky likes to leave stuff on the floor in here.”
Simon relaxes, not having realized he had tensed up during the conversation. He hums in assent, and follows Ryland’s suggestion to take a seat by his side.
⋆🚀⋆
It’s been forty-five minutes, and Simon feels as though he has spent more time having Ryland explain equipment to him than actually cataloguing said equipment. On the bright side, Ryland doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.
“--it’s different from a ruler, though, because you can use it to measure precisely down to two tenths of a millimeter. Which, like, pfft, why would you need to measure something that precisely, but you’d be surprised at how such a small increment can cause a big difference.” Ryland explains the thing called a Vernier Caliper to Simon, handing him the contraption while waving his other hand about. He talks about everything in this lab so effortlessly. Simon supposes he would be the same if he had spent his entire life dedicated to something.
Simon fidgets with the caliper, opening and shutting the hinges experimentally. “Your mission is over, though… right? What do you even use this stuff for now?”
Ryland hums, unable to answer momentarily because he has the cap of a highlighter between his teeth. He finishes marking off something on the clipboard in pink and re-caps the highlighter before responding. “Good question! Yeah, for the most part we’re done with the big stuff, but now that we’re on a pretty long journey to Erid, we gotta do something to keep ourselves busy. Rocky has his own projects, and I try to come up with something new every week. One time, I calculated the ship’s gravity down to eight decimal places.”
“That sounds… like torture.”
Ryland laughs, short and light. “It keeps me busy!”
Before Simon can respond with a sarcastic remark, the all-too-familiar sound of xenonite rolling across the metallic floors echoes through the hall. Soon enough, it bursts through the entryway, housing the other person(?) on the Hail Mary that Simon is slowly getting acquainted with. Rocky bumps into a wall, as usual, before redirecting his momentum toward Ryland and Simon.
“Rocky heard Simon and Grace talking. Simon left bedroom today! Hello, Simon.”
…Doesn’t Rocky have like, crazy hearing? Wouldn’t he have heard Simon get up and find Ryland close to an hour ago? Has he just been listening this whole time? God, Simon is still getting used to the whole friendly rock alien roommate thing. Honestly, he got used to the concept that all other life in the universe might just be huge, possessed mutant fish.
“Rock! Hey, you know you have all three of my flask tongs, right?” Ryland pipes up, not nearly as thrown off by Rocky’s sudden appearance as Simon.
“No no no, Rocky have two. Grace lose one. Try to blame on Rocky,” Rocky argues, holding a fist in the air. Simon, now third-wheeling the transaction, turns to Ryland, who looks genuinely confused.
“What? No way. I swear I put it back, that was like, two weeks ago.”
“Grace left in the dormitory. Do not know where is now.”
“Seriously?” Ryland looks at his clipboard, looks at the drawers, looks back at the clipboard, then gets up decisively. “Well, now that I know where it is, I gotta go get it. Rocky, uhh, keep Simon company. I’ll be back.”
With that and a curt salute, Ryland leaves down the corridor Simon came, and Simon is left alone in the lab with Rocky. Simon looks at the clipboard. He doesn’t know where the bottle of pH strips should be. So he can’t continue to work while Ryland is gone. And he’s alone with Rocky. Awesome.
“Simon like Grace, question?”
Simon blinks. Rocky is staring straight up at Simon– or at least, Simon thinks so? Actually, isn’t he almost perfectly symmetrical? Well, the point is that he’s leaning up and in Simon’s direction, as if he’s looking at him and waiting for a response.
“...What do you mean by that.”
“Simon don’t talk much. Think very much. Spend a lot of time looking at Grace. Simon like Grace, question?” Rocky’s two stomps are a little more adamant this time, expecting understanding and an answer. Simon feels a little intimidated. He feels like Rocky expects praise. Not that Simon thinks Rocky’s going to maul him if he insults Grace, he just…
Well, he doesn’t have anything negative to say, anyway.
“...Yeah. Ryland is– Grace is cool. He’s really nice.”
“Why Simon nervous, question?” Fuck, this guy is scary to talk to. Simon guesses that if he can feel his own heart rate rise, so can Rocky.
Whatever. Open up to the stupid rock, Simon.
“I’m still… getting used to life here, I think. Trying to feel like it’s okay that I’m here. And yeah, Grace is fantastic, he says I’m welcome here and I’m doing my best to believe him, I just… I don’t know. I feel like I’m spending half my time looking for the downside. Like, does he really mean everything he says? Do I owe him, and he’s just being too nice to mention it now?”
“Grace not lying. Grace terrible liar. Can’t speak properly and heart rate rises,” Rocky says, seemingly attempting to comfort Simon. He then makes a strange humming sound, a singular low, warbling note while he fidgets with two of his hands. Thinking before he speaks again. “Simon should not feel bad. Grace Rocky happy you are here. Grace very much.”
Simon must make a surprised face, because Rocky continues, “Grace tell Rocky he missed talking to other humans. Happy to have new friend. Tell Rocky he hope Simon talk more.”
Simon’s chest feels tight listening to Rocky talk about Ryland’s thoughts on him. His positive thoughts on him. Simon feels similarly, he thinks, but not to the degree that Ryland must. Simon is relatively deficient in human touch and comfort, for sure, Eden wasn’t necessarily a lovey-dovey place to live, but Ryland hasn’t seen another human in years. Hasn’t spoken to a living person without having to use a translator in equally as long. If Simon were in his position… he would be happy to have someone else, too. He would want that person to talk to him more. He would want to be someone that can be confided in. He would want someone to confide in.
“...Does Grace know you’re telling me this?”
“No. Simon no tell Grace. Grace get shy.”
Simon huffs out a chuckle. He makes the deal with the alien, “Sure.”
Right on cue, Grace bounds back into the room, beaming and holding up a pair of odd-shaped metal tongs like a proud toddler. “I found them!”
“Rocky said so. Grace have terrible object management skills.” Rocky rolls alongside Grace as he struts into the room and back to the stool next to Simon.
“Like you don’t leave your crap lying around on the floor all over the ship, dude,” Grace argues. He grabs the clipboard and corrects the status of his tongs while Rocky argues back.
“No no no Grace do the same. Need word. Grace do the same thing Grace complain about.”
“Hypocrite?” Simon supplies.
Grace sighs, “I’ve been avoiding giving him that one. It feels especially insulting to give someone the words they bully you with.”
“Grace restrict Rocky vocabulary. Grace do oppression on Rocky. Not fair.”
“Listen, I have my reasons–”
Grace and Rocky continue to bicker back and forth for several minutes, all while Simon listens and watches. Despite the fact that they’re arguing over real feelings, the transaction doesn’t feel like it has any malice in it. Simon would need more than two hands to count the number of times he’s witnessed arguments between his brothers back on Eden that would escalate into hands-on altercations, even though they explicitly called each other family. Typically, the closer the bond, the more likely that they would end up fighting over something small. That type of interaction seems so foreign compared to what Simon sees in front of him now. He bets that in a few minutes, they’ll be back to making jokes and laughing together. Because that’s what it’s like here. Lighthearted. Relaxed. Safe.
Eventually, Grace turns to Simon. Rocky is still speaking, and Simon can hear his unintelligible, high-pitched chords vying for Grace’s attention while Grace speaks. The former teacher ignores him with ease. “Anyway, you still wanna keep helping out? Once we’re done taking inventory, I can teach you where everything is and should go. You could totally take on projects of your own after I teach you some necessary lab safety stuff.”
Simon glances around the lab, at Rocky, then back to Grace. His smile is so wide he has a dimple forming on his right cheek. It might just be Simon, but he thinks it looks more genuine than before. It pulls Simon in, cold, touch-starved moth to a warm and steady flame. “Yeah. I’d like that.”