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Eva Stratt pulled her hair into a claw clip and thumbed over the necklace at her throat. The cold metal was soothing, almost, against her warm skin. The reminder of her childhood, of her innocence. Of what she once found comfort in, and now, only found fear in. It was warm out, and normally she would complain. Now, though, she was grateful- with the continual dimming of the sun, any warmth was more than welcome.
She cocked her head as the all-too-familiar knock came at her office door. Doctor Grace.
The only person she wanted to see at such an hour. Her email chimed at the same moment.
"Come in," she called. The door cracked open, and that goddamned mop of blonde hair appeared. The blue eyes that could make her smile no matter what happened the moment prior lit up at the sight of her laptop being closed. Her monitor was still on, but she kept her email open at all times she was in her office- even during her scientist-enforced naptimes.
"Hey, Stratt. Timer's up."
He kept a timer for her. There were days she told him not to run it- with so many government officials to meet with, she was sometimes in meetings around the clock. The next day, though, he would be more on her case than usual. Anyone else, she wouldn't let do this. She didn't trust anyone else.
She trusted him so much it hurt. She wondered, idly, if it would always hurt.
"Okay," she sighed melodramatically. He laughed quietly, and her heart swelled. "I don't know that I can sleep quite yet, though."
"That's alright," he said. "I can grab us something to eat and we can watch a movie for a while? Get your mind off of work long enough to fall asleep."
"Yeah." She pulled a blanket from the basket she kept by her desk and began to bring her laptop over to the chairs across the desk.
"I have a better idea. You go grab dessert and I set up for the movie."
"You don't have touch ID on my laptop," she said.
"No, but I have mine." He produced his bag with his own laptop inside. "I have all the Taskforce streaming services." She couldn't help but smile. With so many people on board, there had to be some ways to relax, and some way to find something to watch.
"Alright. Don't make a mess, please." He saluted with two fingers and she rolled her eyes and left the room.
She grabbed two slices of lemon bar and two forks, returning to her office quickly to make sure Doctor Grace- Ryland, she scolded herself- was keeping her office clean.
He was taking care of her so gently, she thought, that he may as well be living up to his profession (former profession?) of teacher. Or maybe utilizing that title of Doctor. She would let herself take a few hits, she realized with deep horror, if he'd be there to patch her up.
"What are you doing?" she asked, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. The armchairs were pulled to the other side of her desk with a blanket draped from her desk to the back of one of the chair. All the blankets were gone, as were the pillows from her couch.
"Blanket fort," Ryland said with a shrug. "Come here, I'll braid your hair."
He knew she didn't need to wash it tonight. He knew too much about her, and she couldn't let him in, but she had to. She couldn't help it. It had to be for the better, didn't it?
She did join him beneath the blanket fort. It was comfortable, and she felt so safe, and everything around her was exclusively for her. It was the first time in maybe her whole life she had been cared for so thoroughly.
He opened Netflix and navigated to the Great British Baking Show, and some sort of quiet wave of contentment washed over her as the familiar music played. The pillows from the couch were strewn on the floor of the fort, and she sat on one and devoured her lemon bar.
"Whoa, slow down, you're going to choke." His tone was light, but she could hear the concern in his voice.
"I'm fine." Eva set down her plate, now empty, and Ryland laughed softly. "Did you want to do my hair?"
"Oh, yeah. One second." He finished the last bite of his lemon bar and reached to take down her hair. She handed him the hair tie that remained on her wrist. "Three strands or Dutch braid?"
"Just three strands," she murmured. Her eyes fluttered closed as he worked on the braid, and every part of her fought to stay awake. It didn't work.
When she woke up, she was outside her quarters. She was in someone's arms, and she could see the ceiling above her. Closer than she thought it should be-
"Hey, Eva, I don't really want to wake you up, but I can't get to your badge."
"Can you put me down?" She furrowed her brow. "I can let myself into the room."
"Yes, but I'm not leaving until you're asleep."
"That's not necessary." She couldn't let him in. She couldn't take more from him, shouldn't ask for more from him.
"Sure. But I want to."
Her eyes pricked with tears. She couldn't, shouldn't-
"Eva. Just let me."
She sighed. Took her badge out. Opened the door for the two of them.
"Thank you. Now, go shower, and I'll help you with your hair. You just relax, okay? I-" he stopped himself. "Just relax."
"Okay." She hated how quiet, how weak her voice was. "Okay. I- I'll be back."
"Thank you." He turned to her dresser. "Do you want those silk pajamas?"
"Yes, please. I can-"
"Uh-uh. Let me."
"Ryland-"
"I'm a grown man, Eva, I'm not going to rummage through your dresser. I'm just going to grab clothes for you."
"Thank you." Weak, again. God, she hated this. She hated how she felt, now. She wanted to be stronger than this.
"Of course."
Ryland put her hair back into a braid, a bit looser than it was before. It had to be loose for her to be able to sleep. How he knew that…
She wouldn't admit it for all the world, but she wanted him to know everything about her. So what, if she admitted odd things to him while they wandered the streets of whatever city there was a meeting in that week.
"Thank you," she said. Her voice was quiet, soft. "I… you don't have to do this."
"You keep saying that." He pulled the covers up to her chin. "If I don't do it, who will?"
"Do what?" She cocked her head against the pillow, mussing her braid just a bit.
"Take care of you."
Her heart broke. She couldn't let him care about her like that, she couldn't let her guard down. She shouldn't take advantage of him like this. She knew she would never be able to care for him the same way; she couldn't promise him safety the way he tried to for her. He didn't know about the inevitable prison sentence that awaited her the moment the Hail Mary launched.
"Who will take care of you?" she asked instead.
"If I take care of you, I can take care of me." He smiled. "Listen, once you go to bed, I'll go to bed, too."
She thought about that for a moment. Weighed her options. Would the ends (comfort and safety for even a moment) justify the means (letting her guard down)?
Yes, she decided. Absolutely worth it.
"You can stay here, tonight. If you'd like."
Ryland bit his lip. Eva worried that she overstepped, and she should just say it was a joke, and-
"I will." Ryland pushed off the bed. "In that case, I'm going to brush my teeth. I'll be back in, like, ten minutes."
"I have an unopened travel toothbrush in the top drawer," she said. "And toothpaste."
"I'll be fine, I just-"
"Stay?" She couldn't stop the hot tears pricking in her eyes. She didn't even know what was wrong, just…
She wanted to let him in, as bad of an idea as it was.
"Alright. Yeah." He smiled and squeezed her hand. "I'm here, I'll be right back."
She cursed herself when he left the room. She had to get ahold of herself, she had to lock it in. She couldn't let him break down her walls like this.
And yet, he had. And she had let him.
If something happened to him… could he forgive her? Would she deserve it?
"Hey, now," Ryland said gently, squeezing her hand again. "I'm not going anywhere."
She could smell the mint on his breath.
"Okay," she said. "Okay. Thank you."
"You're really not doing well, huh?" Ryland murmured as he settled into bed. "Somethin' happen?"
She shook her head. Cuddled closer to him. She felt almost like a teenager again, weak and tired and needy. She hated it, needed more. She shivered against him.
"Just… one of those days, I suppose."
"That's alright." Ryland kissed the crown of her head. "I'm not going anywhere."
She knew it was for the better. Everything she had done since August nineteenth, two thousand nineteen, when she had first been made aware of the Petrova line- by none other than Irina Petrova herself- had been. She was not under the impression that she was allowed to, was able to make a decision that was not.
But the way Ryland asked, pleaded, begged her not to-
well. She wasn't capable of saying no to those eyes, either.
Thankfully, the call had already been made when he realized what was going to happen. She couldn't have said no, if that weren't the case. She would have gone with the less qualified option, the one who had no experience in this sort of research or how to be an astronaut. Ryland- Doctor Grace at least knew the Hail Mary inside and out, knew the ideas they had thrown at the wall. Though she worried over the amnesia drug. She hoped it failed, as much as it seemed hypocritical.
No, it was for the better.