Work Text:
If you were to ask Ryland Grace if he forgave Eva Stratt for what she had to do to him, he'd probably freak out because he hasn't spoken to or seen another person– besides Simon– for almost 2 decades.
But more accurately, he would say mostly.
When he first gained his memories back, all he felt was anger and grief.
Grief for what life he could have had. Grief for his kids that he never got to say goodbye too. Grief for himself.
But he was also angry.
Angry that they had drugged him, and held him down. Angry that he never got a single say in the matter. Angry that he was literally trapped in space.
But more importantly, he was angry that Stratt was right.
And from then on, the anger fizzled out.
He still mourned his students, his class, his bike, and everything he'll never see or do again. On the other hand, he saved his students, his class, and the rest of the planet, all because she made him.
When he landed on Erid, he had made a discovery.
This is where he belonged.
He got to teach, stroll along a beach, talk to his best friend every day, and still do big science, as Rocky likes to say.
He never really belonged on Earth. He made his class somewhere for everyone to belong, but that was about it.
Staying on Erid was the easiest decision he has ever made.
Over time, his home here had felt more homely than his place on Earth, and he has made better connections with the Eridians than humans.
But that's exactly what was missing.
Humanity.
When was the last time he actually touched a living thing? When was the last time he got a proper hug? Or even just looked something in the eye?
That is where Simon came in.
Drifting in from another universe, the bloodied and battered up man became Grace's whole world.
So, after months and months of wordless interactions, to deep conversations, they became a little more than just friends.
For the most part, they knew a lot about each other.
Except for how exactly they got on their respective ships.
Ryland decided that Simon didn't have to put up with the anger he felt for Stratt, as it would most likely be misguided. So, he kept that part from Simon.
Until one day, when the one thing he could never forgive forced its way out of his mouth.
As Grace had come to learn, Simon loved movie nights.
A couple of days per week, they would sit together on the couch, cuddle up together under the quilt, and watch a movie. They switched who got to choose the film. Grace was more a fan of action and sci-fi based movies, and Simon loved fantasy.
The thing was, Grace had already seen most of the movies that Mary had.
So, more nights than not, Ryland would slowly drift off, and lean onto Simon.
Simon didn't mind at all. This had become quite common, and he had learned that both men were quite starved for touch.
Once Grace fell asleep, he would shut off the movie and carefully carry Grace to bed.
This is why I keep my arm on during movie nights, Simon thinks.
Tonight, however, is different.
Ryland had been in his office all day, doing God knows what. But Simon could tell that it had taken what energy the man had left out of him.
So when Grace's eyes start closing not even 20 minutes into Revenge of the Sith– one of Grace's favorites– Simon speaks up.
“I think it's time for bed Ryland.”
All he gets is a small mumble and Grace settling onto his shoulder some more.
“I'm serious, we can watch this another night, you need to sleep Ryland.” Simon pauses the movie and tries to get Grace to sit up.
“‘M okay, just gonna sleep out here.” Grace leans the other direction, kicking his feet up to curl into a ball and pull the quilt over him.
“Ryland, I will carry you.”
Grace just scoffs, and mutters something about always doing that anyways.
“I could tell Rocky that you're being angry stupid tomorrow because you're not listening to me.”
“I'm a grown man, I can sleep when and where I want.”
Simon rolled his eyes.
“Ry, every time you've fallen asleep on the couch you complain about your back in the morning.”
Grace cracks an eye open at that. “Seriously? Ry? You're not my mom.” He slips his eyes shut again and untucks his legs, so he's half on his stomach.
At this rate, Simon knows arguing isn't getting him anywhere, but he also wants to show Ryland a taste of his own stubbornness.
He has an idea.
“My apologies, Doctor Grace.” Simon says as he lowers himself on top of Grace, face tucked into the back of his neck.
Simon immediately notices how Ryland freezes below him, and worries that he's too heavy.
Grace feels how his eyes start to feel itchy, and how his hands go clammy, gripping onto the couch. Luckily, his glasses are on the table so he doesn't have to worry about bending them.
“Sorry Ry, but it's either this or you go to bed.” Simon has tried to let some of his weight off of Grace's back, but it hasn't seemed to work yet.
Just as Simon is about to get up and drag Ryland, he hears a small, almost animalistic squeak.
“No, no. Please!!”
He immediately stands up to crouch beside where Grace's head is, and sees the tears and snot covering his face.
“Ry? Grace? Hey, hey I'm sorry I didn't–”
But Grace can't hear him.
All he hears is foreign shouts and boots hitting grass. His own screams are dulled because of his other ear planted to the earth.
The smell of the dirt, feeling it pile under his nails. The feeling of his glasses pushing into his face. But all over are hands. Hands holding him down. His back, his arms, his legs.
Simon notices that Grace's mouth is still moving, mumbling pleas, but he's not actually taking in any air. His body is trembling and tense, but he doesn't know if he should reach out and touch. He's talked to Ryland about some of his meltdowns before, but he can usually tell when those are coming. This is new.
“Grace, I need– hey I need you to take a breath for me okay? C'mon just take a breath in.” Simon reaches for Ryland's hand and places it on his own chest and exaggerates his own breathing. “With me, alright?”
Grace feels how his muscles are going lax as the drugs start to kick in. He can't hold onto the earth anymore. They're taking him away– he's can't hold on, he can't do this, he can't–
“Ry.”
Mom?
No.
She's gone.
“Ry, I need you to breathe. Please. I'm here, you're safe.”
Simon.
Grace takes in a heaving breath. Simon hears how it rattles throughout the room.
“Yeah, that's it. Now let it out, with me.”
Ryland opens his eyes to see Simon's face with the most concern he's ever seen the man display.
For about a solid 5 minutes, the two share breaths, and slowly Grace is regulated a bit.
“Listen Ry, I'm so sorry. What happened? Nevermind, I don't know why I did that I–”
“No.”
Simon just stares at him, then it clicks.
“I'm sorry, I'll leave you alone if you want–”
“No, no, please, don't leave.”
Nevermind.
“Can you just… one sec.” Grace wipes around his face with the end of his sweater, then sits up, readjusting the quilt and crossing his legs under him.
“Can you uhm… turn around?” Grace gives a weak smile.
Simon nods and turns. He feels his upper back sink into the couch slightly.
“So basically I– well I guess I haven't been completely honest about how I got here,” Simom goes to turn his head and ask, but Grace beats him to it, “and before I say anything, I need to make sure you're up for this, and to listen to all of it.”
Simon gives a nod.
“Can I uh…” Ryland lets one of his fingers brush through Simon's hair, letting it twirl at the end.
Simon nods again.
Two things he does know about Grace is that he was a teacher, and that he loves doing Simon's hair. Apparently, he had learned to braid after he saw some of his students come to school with tangled hair because of poor conditions at home. Also, some kids at recess wouldn't want to play because they didn't like the feeling of their hair on their face. So, from then on, his class became a hair salon for the last bit of class before break.
Simon is never not blown away by this man. He's actually quite glad, as he can't put his own hair up anymore due to his prosthetics joints snagging on the stands. It also just means Ryland gets to touch him.
He instantly feels Ryland's fingers dive under his hair, slowly feeling for and untangling knots gently.
“Okay so I told you how there were supposed to be three people on Mary, but the others died.” Simon nods slightly. “Well, they needed a pilot, an engineer and a scientist. They actually had all three before I came along.”
Grace takes in a large breath.
“One day… there was an accident. Long story short, the scientist who was going on the trip passed unexpectedly and… well I guess I was the next best.” He huffs out a small laugh.
Simon reaches for the small bag of elastics on the coffee table and passes them to Ryland when he feels him near the end of the second braid.
“Thanks. Anyways, I uh… I said no. Over and over again actually. Stratt– she was the person kinda in charge of Hail Mary I think– she didn't really take that.”
Simon feels anger and confusion bubble in his chest.
“And before you judge her– she was actually pretty kind sometimes, she was just put in a really hard place.”
Simon's mind immediately drifts to Ava, but he doesn't let it go there. This is about Ryland.
“She didn’t have another choice, really. Nobody did. So, even when we sat down and I said no for the last time… well– I guess it kinda was my last. She brought these doctors in and said they were gonna put me in a coma so– so I ran.”
Ryland takes a moment to calm himself, hearing the words you don't even have a dog bounce around his head.
No.
He's here, on Erid, and he's with Simon.
“I ran and ran and ran, and I almost got out but… they pinned me, drugged me and shoved me into space without me having a say in any of it. Honestly I feel like they knew from the start. They basically told me that I was just expendable. Stratt always looked at me funny too…”
Ryland shakes his head.
“So, yeah. That's the jist of it. I guess I just wasn't expecting you to get on my back or something. It's also been a while since someone's called me Doctor Grace.” He pulls his hands back into his lap once he's finished.
He's put two small braids on each side of Simon's head, and tied them back into a half up half down bun, with a few extra braids by his ears.
Meanwhile, Simon had been trying so hard to pay attention when all he felt was Grace's gentle tugging in his hair.
He turns around, still on the floor, and puts his flesh hand on Ryland's knee.
“I'm so sorry that happened to you– I can't even begin…”
That's when he looks up and sees Grace's expression.
He looks so, so tired.
“Save it Si, it's fine, I've made peace with it. I've let it all go. Think about it this way, if that didn't happen, I wouldn't be here with you, would I?” Ryland gives him a genuine smile, and cups Simon's face with his hand, caressing the scarred side.
“You still wanna sleep out here?”
“I mean… kinda yeah but if you–”
“Nope, we're staying out here if that's what you want, you're just gonna have to sleep on top of me so the couch doesn't ruin your back. You have class tomorrow mister.”
Grace groans, that quickly devolves into laughter between the two.
He gets up, and lets Simon get comfortable before climbing onto him and covering them with the quilt.
“Night Simon.” Grace's voice is muffled by Simon's chest.
“Goodnight Ryland.”
Grace falls asleep in a personal record time, and has vague dreams about discos and… pink afros? all while enveloped by Simon's warmth and scent.