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It had been two weeks since the accident on the hull.
What was supposed to be a repair on one of the Hail Mary's oxygen recyclers had turned into one of the worst days of your life. A loose recycler. A snapped support cable. A fractured ankle. And Ryland Grace throwing himself out onto the hull without a second thought to bring you home.
Somehow, in the middle of all the panic, the fear, and the pain, the two of you had finally said everything you'd spent months avoiding.
You had argued.
You had nearly died.
He had confessed.
And to his complete surprise—and yours—you confessed too.
Things aboard the Hail Mary were... different now. Better, in some ways.
The silence that had settled over the ship after your fight had disappeared, replaced by familiar conversations, shared meals, and Rocky's endless commentary about "happy human noises." But there was a new kind of awkwardness now. Every accidental touch lingered a second too long. Every glance made one—or both—of you look away. Every "good morning" somehow felt much more complicated than it had before.
Neither of you really knew how to be scientists... and something more... at the same time.
So, naturally, you did what both of you did best.
You pretended nothing had changed.
The cast on your ankle made it impossible for you to go back out onto the hull and finish attaching the oxygen recyclers. So, Grace gladly volunteered to do it for you.
"Looks like your name is collecting titles now." You try your best to help him out of the EVA suit after the mission.
He hums in confusion, finally removing the last piece of equipment from his body.
"Doctor Captain Engineer Ryland Grace." You poke at his side.
Grace jolts from your finger, "Does that mean I did a great job repairing the recycler?"
"Well... Technically, I repaired it two weeks ago." You lean onto the entrance of the EVA room, as your cast is making it hard for you to balance. "You just attached it back onto the hull."
"That was a very important attachment, Engineer." He crosses his arms.
"Yes, Ryland. Very brave. You connected a cable."
He raises a finger, "A cable that determines whether we have oxygen."
You roll your eyes at the sight of your 'crewmate' looking like that one meme you've seen from Earth's archives. "Okay, fine. Doctor Captain Engineer Ryland Grace saved humanity by connecting a cable."
"Thank you." He bows a curtsy.
"You are impossible." You shake your head and turn to waddle your way into the lab.
He notices you struggling and immediately picks up your crutch, giving it to you. "Why aren't you using your crutches?"
"I look funny with them."
"You know, statistically speaking, people with ankle injuries who refuse to use mobility aids have a higher chance of—"
"Ryland." You talk over him, grabbing the crutches from his hands.
"—making recovery longer." He trails off.
"You're doing the teacher voice."
"Because you aren't listening."
"Because you're lecturing me."
"Because you aren't listening." He repeats.
Both of you finally arrive at the lab, Rocky turning towards you. "Grace finished attaching cable? Question."
You giggle. "See? Even Rocky thinks the same as me."
Grace rolls his eyes, a soft smile on his lips. He watches you struggle to get onto the high stools for half a second, clearly debating whether to help or let you do it yourself.
"Need assistance?"
You look at him. "Are you asking or telling?"
He pauses. "...Asking."
"Then yes."
He grabs your forearm. "Yes, Rocky. I fixed it."
"Amaze amaze amaze!" Rocky does his jazz hands, relieved that the ship is back in its peak shape.
His cold fingertips against your skin sent a weird feeling in your stomach. Could it be that the Ryland Grace is giving you silly butterflies in your stomach?
"Grace assists friend frequently now." Rocky chirps.
Ryland freezes and turns to him. "What?"
"Before confession: Grace assists friend but claims it is logical decision."
You immediately laughed while Grace was already regretting everything. "Rocky—"
"After confession: Grace assists friend and admits emotional reasoning."
"Rocky."
Grace notices that he was still holding onto your forearms and immediately lets go. You clear your throat. "Thanks."
"You're welcome." Silence followed.
Rocky's translator pierced through the silence immediately after. "Why humans become quiet after simple exchange? Question."
"Rocky."
Rocky stops talking and goes back to work on whatever xenonite project he was doing before the two leaky space blobs interrupted him.
"Hungry?" Grace sighs. But his question was more of a statement when you see him already walking out of the lab.
You giggle to yourself. "Yes."
He comes back with a tray and food in hand, placing it on the table in front of you. "You know you don't have to keep doing this."
Grace immediately looks confused. "Doing what?"
"Taking care of me."
Grace pauses a bit, processing why that's even a question. "You say that like it's an inconvenience."
You smile softly at him, "Thank you."
You stare at him for a bit before grabbing the oatmeal Grace had prepared for you. He has been helping you a lot in the two weeks of you being in a cast.
The thought of him preparing and bringing you food, giving you your crutches, and helping you move around the ship left a small smile on your lips.
Ryland notices you smiling to yourself as he sits down next to you. He doesn't say anything, but just looks at you. Memorizing the expression you have on your face, glad that he can help you recover.
He had spent months memorizing your expressions without realizing it. The difference between your annoyed face and your joking face. The way your eyebrows moved when you were trying to solve a problem. The tiny smile you tried to hide whenever he said something ridiculous.
But this one was different. This was the expression of someone who felt safe.
"Rocky retrieve tools." The Eridian gets up. "Humans require alone time."
"Who taught you that?" Grace looks at him.
"Mary."
The footsteps of the five legs of the Eridian slowly fade out as he disappears into the ship.
Silence envelops the room, the two of you eating next to each other. A few weeks ago, silence between the two of you felt unbearable. Now, it felt like home.
The one cold and sterile lab lights grew warmer. The hard surface of the lab stools became softer. Then you finally realize—
Grace was never mad at you because he wanted to be the one to fix the oxygen recycler.
He knew the risks of going out onto the hull after passing an asteroid cluster.
He didn't want you to be in danger.
He wanted you to be safe.
"Do you regret it?" You finally speak up.
Grace looks up at you. "What?"
"Telling me."
And Grace immediately knows what she means. He pauses for a while, then "No."
You were about to open your mouth to say something, but he spoke again.
"I regret not telling you sooner because I wasted time pretending you weren't important."
You look at him, but Grace wasn't looking at you. Somewhere along the conversation, he looked away, avoiding eye contact with you. You sigh, and before you can think about it, you hug him.
Both of your stools were inches away from each other, so he catches you. You bury your head into his shoulder, and he gently wraps his arms firmly around you.
"Your ankle—"
"Ryland."
"Right. Sorry."
You both stayed, hugging each other. The position was a bit awkward, yes, but you couldn't bring yourself to let go. The rise and fall of his chest slowed down after a few minutes, and you let out a shaky breath.
You realize all of the small things he has been doing for the past few weeks to help you recover.
He heats up your food to the exact temperature you like, he adjusts the lab stool because he noticed your cast made it uncomfortable, and he moves your tools closer to you.
You finally pull away from the hug. "You know, you have a very strange way of showing affection."
"I have a strange way of showing everything." Both of you chuckle.
He stands up, grabbing both of your trays to clean up. "I'll do it." You insist.
"Absolutely not."
"Ry, my hands work just fine." You raise your arms, showing him.
He looks at both of your arms and shrugs, "Your argument has been noted."
"And?"
"Rejected." He walks out of the lab.
You groan, feeling guilty that he has been taking care of you a lot. You were the engineer of the ship. You were the one who was supposed to be fixing things.
Grace hears your groan from the hallway and shouts loud enough for you to hear, "You fixed our oxygen system. You saved this mission. You don't have to prove your worth every day."
You didn't expect it and it absolutely melted your heart, making you lay your head onto the table. Definitely not to hide the slight change of color on your cheeks.
The weeks after the accident passed differently than the ones before it.
Before, every day on the Hail Mary felt like survival. Every conversation had a purpose. Every experiment had a goal.
Now, somehow, the smallest things became the moments you remembered the most.
The way Grace would silently place your crutches beside your bed before you woke up. The way your meals somehow appeared before you admitted you were hungry. The way he always said he was "just making sure" whenever you caught him checking on you.
Ryland Grace was terrible at saying things.
But apparently, he was very good at showing them.
One example was when you woke up in the middle of the night because your ankle hurt. Then you realize there's an extra blanket over you, but you don't remember grabbing one.
You slowly got up and saw Grace, sitting on his bed and staring at a laptop.
"Did you put the blanket over me?" You rub your eyes.
He looks over at you, "You were cold."
"Grace gave friend his blanket. Grace is cold." Rocky taps his hand in the corner.
"Rocky."
"What? Fact."
Then you notice the screen displayed on the laptop he was staring at. It was your vitals.
"Ryland."
He hums.
"Are you monitoring my vitals while I sleep?"
He freezes.
"No. I was monitoring the ship." The display suddenly switched to what looked like the ship's diagnostics. "You just happen to be part of the ship's current medical situation.
And you just stare at him because that's the worst excuse you've ever heard.
Another example is when he leaves you sticky notes around the ship.
Some days, he sleeps in due to the exhaustion of the Tau-moeba research. You let him, but he never forgets to place your crutches near your bed with a sticky note saying: "Eat before you start working."
And when you were the first one to work on the lab, you noticed your tools were placed on the table rather than the higher shelf you normally place them on.
And of course, there's a stick note with a note written: "I placed your tools here because you can't reach the shelves yet. I hope you don't mind. :)"
Another example was how he started learning your limits before you even admitted them. You hated asking for help, and Grace knew that.
He knew it because every time you needed something, you would stare at it for a few seconds longer than necessary, debating whether struggling alone was worth proving a point.
So he started appearing before you could ask.
Like the time you tried to reach one of the higher cabinets in the lab.
You had balanced yourself against the counter, stretching your arm as far as it could go, your cast making the whole process ten times more difficult.
"You know," Grace's voice suddenly came from behind you, "watching the ship's engineer almost fall over because she refuses to ask for assistance is a fascinating scientific observation."
You immediately turned around. "How long have you been standing there?"
"Long enough."
You narrowed your eyes. "Were you just watching me struggle?"
"No." A pause. "...I was assessing the situation."
"Ryland."
"Fine. I was watching you struggle."
You rolled your eyes, but there was no annoyance behind it anymore.
He walked over, grabbed the container you were trying to reach, and placed it in your hands. "There."
"Thank you."
He nodded, satisfied. Then he walked away.
You stared after him. "That's it?"
"What?"
"No lecture?"
Grace looked confused. "About what?"
"About how I should've asked for help."
He shrugged. "You were going to eventually."
"You have that much faith in me?"
"No." He adjusted his glasses. "I have that much faith in your stubbornness." You laughed.
A real laugh.
And Grace immediately looked over at you. Not because he hadn't heard you laugh before. Because he missed it.
Another time, you woke up and found your crutches missing from beside your bed.
For a brief moment, panic filled you. Until you noticed them carefully placed beside the door. Along with a small note.
Good morning. You looked uncomfortable sleeping with them beside you, so I moved them. Also, please eat breakfast before attempting to fix anything.
You stared at the handwriting for a few seconds. Then you looked across the room.
Grace was already awake, sitting at his desk and working.
"You moved my crutches?"
He didn't look away from the laptop. "Yes."
"You know you could've just told me."
"You were asleep."
"And?"
"And you needed sleep."
You blinked.
Because somehow, after months of surviving on the Hail Mary, you had forgotten that someone could care about something as simple as letting you rest.
"You're weird."
Grace finally looked over. "I've been told."
You smiled softly. "By me."
"Frequently."
The last one was the most obvious, and Rocky noticed first.
Of course he did.
The Eridian was walking into the lab when he saw Grace adjusting the height of one of the chairs. "Grace modifying furniture. Question."
Grace froze. "It was necessary."
"Why?"
"Because she can't comfortably sit on the original one yet."
Rocky tilted his carapace. "Grace cares for friend."
Grace opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "That is not—"
"Grace love friend."
"Rocky."
"Grace deny obvious facts."
"I am not denying anything."
The Eridian paused. "Grace admitting?"
Silence.
You, sitting nearby, watched the entire exchange with a growing smile. And Grace noticed. "What?"
"Nothing."
"No, what?"
You shrugged. "Nothing."
He narrowed his eyes. "You are using my own response against me."
"Maybe."
A small smile appeared on his face. And there it was again. That tiny expression you had memorized months ago. The one that meant he was happy. The one that meant he felt safe.
The one that meant, despite being millions of miles away from Earth, despite everything that had happened, despite the mission and the impossible odds—
You had somehow found a home.