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A clattering crash rang out, slicing through the routine evening quiet of their peaceful Eridian beach house.
Simon’s head snapped up from the screen he’d been using to read, frowning deeply as he waited to hear any indication of what might have been the cause of the noise. He was about halfway through a mystery novel and it was just starting to get pretty good, but the loud sound from the kitchen instantly had him on high alert.
When there was no follow-up string of family friendly cuss words or announcement of false alarm, he called out.
“Angel?”
Grace was supposedly doing the dishes, after insisting that Simon rest since he’d cooked and grown the vegetables for the soup they’d eaten that night. The water was still running, but the soft domestic clink of xenonite bowls and spoons had gone quiet.
Cold fingers of fear began to thread into his mind, and he sat up a little straighter. “Grace?”
When he still got no answer he sprang into action, dropping the tablet on the couch and rushing to the kitchen. He caught himself on the doorway, scanning the room, heart hammering in his throat as he prepared for the worst.
Grace was standing at the sink, thank the stars above, but he was stiff as a board and had his hands lifted in the air as if someone had a gun to his head, staring around him at the mess of plates, bowls, and utensils that were scattered across the floor from the upturned drying rack.
“…Grace?” Simon said warily, relieved to see the earlier crash hadn’t been the sound of his husband’s head hitting the floor but still deeply concerned.
Grace yelped and whipped around, as if Simon had shouted at him instead of speaking softly. His eyes were huge, terrified, and his whole body was shaking. He stared at him like…
Shit
Like he didn’t know who Simon was.
Worry and the overwhelming urge to go to his side temporarily overrode logic, and Simon instinctively moved towards him with his hand outstretched.
Grace flinched and stepped back, foot slipping in a puddle of water and crashing to the floor with a tiny, choked-off cry of pain. He continued to scramble away, tucking himself into the corner, eyes darting around as he searched for exits and shrinking in on himself when he found the only one to be blocked.
Simon immediately dropped to a crouch, holding his hand up in surrender, trying to make his large frame appear as nonthreatening as possible.
“Easy, easy! It’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Grace was breathing too fast, on the verge of tipping himself headlong into a panic attack. He grabbed a plate and held it to his chest, not so much a weapon as a shield. Simon sat himself fully on the floor, barely even feeling it when spilled water started to soak into his pants.
“Baby, you gotta breathe. Everything’s okay, I promise. It’s just me, do you recognize me?”
The shattered look Grace gave him in response broke Simon’s heart.
His husband was so smart. So incredibly smart. He was witty and brilliant and inquisitive and there was absolutely nothing he could do about the fact that some fuckass earth woman had stuck him with a memory-erasing drug that had caused irreparable damage to his brain for the rest of his life. Apparently it hadn’t been meant to have lasting effects. It had anyway. Grace thought it was because of unforeseen side effects since he’d been given it at the same time as his forcibly induced coma. Simon thought it was the comforting lie of a life-hardened woman told to someone she didn’t think would last long enough to prove her wrong. A butcher petting the lamb’s head just before they raised the cleaver.
Which left Grace, brilliant, beautiful Grace, curled in a soapy puddle on the floor of his own house, smart enough to understand he should know what was happening to him and terrified by the fact that he did not.
It left the savior of the universe looking his own husband in the eyes and shaking his head. “I- I don’t know.”
Grace’s breath hitched as he said the words, as if saying them out loud made him face them as fact. “I don’t know, oh god, I don’t know anything, I-I don’t know where I am-!”
“Shh, shh,” Simon hushed softly, internally screaming with frustration for want of reaching out to comfort his husband, but knowing it would only hurt him worse. “It’s okay, everything’s gonna be fine. I can help you. I can fix it, I promise, I just need you to trust me alright? Think you can do that?”
Graces eyes, bright and wavering with unshed tears, scanned him for a few seconds in silence. He didn’t move forward, but he nodded.
Simon mustered up a small smile. “Thank you, Angel. First things first, this is our house. We’re in the kitchen. You’re safe here. Can you tell me your name?”
“Ryland,” he sounded a bit unsure, but he didn’t hesitate.
“Good! Good, that’s good. And mine?”
“I- I’m sorry, I don’t-”
“It’s okay, just checking to see what we’re working with.” He pressed his hand to his own chest. “I’m Simon. I’m your husband.”
A guttural sob ripped itself from Grace’s throat and suddenly he was scrambling across the kitchen floor in a flurry of movement, shoving dishes out of the way to throw himself against Simon’s chest and tuck his face in his neck. Simon grunted in surprise, barely managing to catch him and keep them from falling backwards.
Well. That hadn’t taken a whole lot of convincing.
Grace clung to him, trembling. “Why can’t I remember anything?”
Simon didn’t want to scare him, but knew his science-oriented mind well enough to know that Grace took comfort in understanding rather than bliss in ignorance. Whatever scenario he was imagining right now was likely far worse than the reality.
He ran his hand up Grace’s back, pressing a chaste kiss to his hair before he could think better of it. Considering he was literally in his lap at this point, he figured it was fine. “You have medically induced amnesia. You were in a coma for a while many years ago, and you were given drugs to make you forget. You’re doing so much better now, but sometimes you get episodes like this. It should pass soon though, don’t worry.”
“I’ll remember everything again?” Grace whispered, hopeful.
“Yep. Never takes more than an hour or so, usually less.”
Grace’s body relaxed against him, and his breathing finally started to even out. The shaking died down too, but he showed no inclination of letting go. Simon didn’t mind at all. He hummed softly, stroking his back, nosing at his soft blond hair. He’d sit here on the floor with Grace for the rest of the night if that’s what it took for his husband to feel safe.
“Simon, right?”
“Mhm.”
“I love you.”
The words were whispered feverishly against Simon’s neck, like a secret Grace was nervous to tell but couldn’t hold in. Simon pulled back a bit to peer down at him in shock. He knew Grace loved him of course, but he definitely hadn’t expected to hear him to say so now.
Grace tucked against him further, hiding his face. “I don’t remember anything yet but… I can still feel it. As soon as you said you were mine, it just felt right. I’m really glad you’re here with me, Simon.”
“Of course Angel, always. I love you too. So much, more than you can even imagine.”
“You do?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yes. What, you think I married you for fun?”
“I donno. I can be pretty fun.”
“Well, I can’t argue with that. Let’s just say it wasn’t the only reason.”
“Was it my disarmingly handsome smile?”
”It didn’t hurt.”
He felt a hint of said smile turn up against the skin of his neck.
After a few minutes of gentle, comfortable silence, Grace got his breathing fully back to normal again. Eventually he lifted his head, brow furrowed in slight concern. “Where’s Rocky? Is he…?”
Simon smiled fondly. Of course Grace’s first thought would be of his best friend. “He’s at home with Adrian, unless he’s working. Do you want to call him? I’m sure he’d be happy to come by, he’ll drop everything to come see you.”
That was an understatement. Rocky would probably invent teleportation to get here faster if he found out Grace needed help.
Grace perked up. “We’re on Erid!?”
Simon raised a pointed brow and eyed the kitchen around them. “Did you think we remodeled the Hail Mary?”
Grace scrambled to stand, nearly slipping again in the water. “Can we- woaah- can we go see it?!”
“Shit Ryland, careful! Yeah, sure we can go out in the biodome, but Erid’s atmosphere is-“
Grace flapped a hand at him as he made his way through the minefield of xenonite dishes to turn off the water in the sink. “29 times denser than our own and composed of hot ammonia, yes yes, I know.”
He bent to start picking up plates, then caught the counter and wheezed. “Hooo, jeez, wait how old am I? Cause my knees are calling me old.”
“You’ll be fifty-four in a few months,” Simon said, standing to help gather the dishes and put them back in the sink. “The gravity’s always been rough on both our joints, and I doubt throwing yourself on the floor made yours very happy.”
Grace made a face at him. “Fifty-Four? Aw man.”
“What’s wrong with fifty-four?”
“My knees were right, I am old.” he sighed dramatically at the stack of dishes, “Dang. I just did these, now I gotta do em again.”
Simon kissed his shoulder and gently bumped him out of the way with his hip. “I rinse, you dry?”
Grace smiled and nodded, taking the first plate and patting it with a rag. They’d found that repetitive, familiar tasks often helped him stay calm whenever something like this happened.
“Fifty-four isn’t old.” Simon said. “Besides, even if it was, what’s wrong with old? It means you’ve survived. It’s a privilege to be old. I can’t fucking wait to grow old with you.”
He snuck a glance sideways to see blush creeping up Graces neck. “Well when you put it like that…”
Once they had all the dishes rinsed and put away again, Simon turned to lean his hip against the counter. He carefully reached to put his hand on Grace’s cheek, happy to see he didn’t shy from it. “How you feelin’ Angel? Still want me to have someone go get Rocky?”
Grace nuzzled into his palm, letting out a peaceful sigh. “That’s okay, no need to worry him. It’s date night for him and Adrian, I don’t want to interrupt. Besides, I feel a lot better. It’s all still a little fuzzy but I think I’m pretty much back now.”
“Sounds good. Wanna watch a movie?”
“That would be lovely. Oh, have I already shown you the musical Cats?“
Simon rolled his eyes. “We’re married. What do you think?”