Work Text:
To be fair, Grace should’ve expected the random, blood-covered man to lash out upon waking up. He just—didn’t necessarily think the man would pretend to be asleep before attacking. He was just checking on the man, doing a basic run-down of the injuries and bandages that covered him, making sure nothing tore and began bleeding again (why weren’t the stitches holding?). When he got around to the mouth, trying to see how well the hold had been healing (the teeth grew back, which only made Grace even more confused—seriously, what the heck?), the man moved quicker than Grace could ever hope to process. He had practically jumped up, pushing Grace back and onto the floor, and holding—his IV LINE!?—a needle to his neck. Grace could’ve sworn the man was growling as he stared down at Grace, his left eye seemingly stuck shut, but the right eye was trained on Grace as if one second of looking away would give room for Grace to fight back (as if this man was massive compared to Grace’s build).
“Whoa!” Grace stared at him, tilting his head up and doing his best not to let the needle puncture his skin—he didn’t want anything that this man may have to infect him, as harsh as it may sound—all while raising his arms in a way to show he was unarmed and not about to hurt the man. “Uh– I won’t hurt you, ok?”
The man didn’t respond, his eye studying Grace, his grip on the needle tense enough to make his knuckles go pale. Slowly, he started to open his other eye, and Grace noticed the twitch in his face as he did, as if the eye was far more sensitive than his other one (which, it most likely was).
“Can– can you…uh, get off me?” Grace asked, a nervous smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he tried to stay calm and seem friendly. “Please?” He asked once the other made no effort to move.
The man stared at him, before his eyes suddenly widened– not with surprise, but with fear. The man was scared, and as the fear set in, he dropped the needle and practically shot off of Grace, backing up as quickly as possible, shoving himself into a corner. Grace stared at him, propping himself up on his elbows as he watched the man start mumbling to himself. “You– uh, you ok?” He asked, his voice low and soft, similar to how he’d talk to any of his more sensitive kids.
The man didn’t even look at him, just crouching in the corner and mumbling to himself, his eyes squeezed shut as he recited the same thing over and over again. Grace slowly stood on wobbly legs, before slowly—very slowly—approaching the other. When he did get closer, he was finally able to make out what the man was muttering.
“Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum–” Latin, it was Latin. Grace wasn’t religious, never really was, but he recognized the words for what they were: a Latin prayer.
Ok, that’s one step closer to figuring out how to communicate with this stranger. Sure, Grace wasn’t fluent in Latin, but he knew the very basics. Grace stood there, watching the man, and trying to rack his brain for any phrases that could help in this situation (no, how to order a drink would not help, but thank you, brain).
Then, it came to him– he remembered having to deal with a transfer student a while ago, one who knew English, but Latin was their main way of communicating. “Uh– oh goodness, this is gonna sound butchered but–” Grace took a deep breath and hoped he didn’t mess up the pronunciation too badly. “Uhm… Salve…” Grace said as he slowly crouched, trying to get on the man’s level (because looming over him probably wasn’t helping, idiot). “Salve, tutus es [Hello, you are safe],” he continued, watching as the man’s consistent muttering finally faltered, slipping up on a word before starting over. “Uh–” He tried to remember the right words before finally finishing, “Nomen mihi est [My name is]…Uh, Grace,” Of course he forgot his own name in Latin, but he was sure it wasn’t too different, right? “Quod nomen tibi est [Your name]?” Grace asked after a second.
The man finished the prayer, looking up at Grace with wide eyes, long, dark hair falling over his face before speaking. “Simon,” was all he muttered in return.
Grace simply smiled, offering a small nod. That was good, that was progress. He was able to get the man to stop praying and offer him a name—Simon, Simon was his name. “Ok!” Grace didn’t realize he raised his voice until Simon was flinching back in response. A sheepish look overtook Grace as he backed up, a hand nervously picking at his sleeves, “Shoot, sorry– Just excited.”
When Simon offered no response, saying nothing in return, Grace then remembered the man might not know any English. Ok, he could work with that– he could work with it…right? “Uhm– stay,” he held up a finger, trying to communicate he wanted the man to stay where he was. He slowly stood, putting his hands out and repeating “stay” as if he were talking to a scared animal, before turning and exiting the makeshift medical room.
He was quick as he rushed through the house, running to grab his computer—all while tripping over the things he left on the ground.
He came rushing back into the room, slowing once he noticed the way Simon whipped around at the sound of loud footsteps. He was standing now, but still kept to himself in the corner by the bed. “Hi– uh, Salve!” He waved, holding the closed computer under his other arm.
Simon simply watched him, his big eyes following every movement Grace made as he made his way over to the table at the foot of the bed. It was a small table, mainly used to organize any medical tools they were using while treating Simon. He had been pulled onto Erid about a month ago, Adrian apparently coming across him while out doing their own research. Since then, he had been set up in the biodome with Grace, in a small room in his house that had been turned into a medical room, a nice hospital-esk bed, and a small table. Armando had been keeping care of him, but Grace would check in every once in a while or drag a chair into the room to just sit and do work while watching over Simon. He almost didn’t expect the man to ever wake up, but now he was setting up his computer and pulling up the translator program he had originally used for Rocky (which he, thankfully, no longer needed).
Once it was set up, Grace gestured to the bed, trying to let Simon know he could sit on the soft bed instead of standing on—what Grace assumed were—weak legs. “Uhm, you can sit,” Grace spoke softly, before the computer, then proceeded to translate his words to Latin and repeat them.
Simon stared at him, his head tilting to the side ever so slightly, before he then stared at the bed. Slowly, almost as if moving in slow motion, he crept to the bed and sat on the edge of it, as close to the headboard and as far from Grace as possible–ouch.
“How are you feeling?” Grace asked, allowing the computer to translate his words and repeat them back to Simon.
The man stared at Grace. It was unnerving, his big eyes practically tearing into Grace, picking every part of him and analyzing it. When Grace was able to get a better look at him, he noticed his right eye differed in color from his left. His right eye was a dark brown, while his left eye was a crimson red–not only his iris, but also his whites had blood swirling within them as if a blood vessel had popped (which Grace now realized was most likely). His eyes were big, but not in the way they were when wide and fearful, in the way where his eyes were naturally big, as if like a puppy’s eyes—constantly pleading, and begging, as if second nature and subconscious to him, and Grace wondered if it was. He wondered if the staring and analyzing was something that Simon didn’t realize he was doing, as if he was just waiting for something to jump out and ruin the peace that was slowly settling over them.
“Optime.” He spoke quietly, his voice low and rough. [Fine] was the translation. Ok, Grace could work with this.
“Ok, that’s good,” Grace smiled, letting the computer repeat it back in Latin. “Are you in pain?”
Another long pause, another moment of staring, another moment of analyzing and thinking. “Minime [No].”
Grace made a quick look over Simon, trying to see if he could be lying, if something could have broken in the haste earlier. But, as far as he could see, there were no blood stains in the bandages or signs of any open injuries. “Uh– How’s your mouth feeling?”
Once the computer repeated it back in Latin, Simon gave Grace a quizicle look, tilting his head to the side before reaching a hand up to feel his face. The only problem was that he tried to use his left arm, which was missing. Simon stopped, staring at what was left of his arm, which wasn’t much—his eyes studying the bandage that was wrapped around the leftover limb. He stared at it for a while before looking back at Grace. “Estne hoc verum [Is this real]?”
Grace was taken aback when he looked to see the translation. “Uhm– ya, ya it’s real.”
Simon nodded after a moment, before bringing his right hand up to touch the left side of his face, feeling the scarring and mutations that decorated it. “Os bene se habet [Mouth feels fine].” He finally answered, before lowering his right hand, going back to focusing on Grace with those big eyes. “Ubi sum [Where am I]?”
“Ah–!” Grace sat up, straightening his back. “You’re on a planet called Erid, and in my house in a biodome,” Grace paused, both for the translator to properly repeat what he had said and for Simon to take in the information before continuing, “Uhm, and we’re in this little biodome because the Erid atmosphere is deadly to us, and vice versa.”
Simon listened and then continued to stare at Grace for multiple moments. Grace tried not to fidget under the scrutinizing gaze of his mismatched eyes. “Quomodo vivo [How am I alive]?” He finally asked, slowly bringing his legs closer to himself on the bed, as if his question would distract from the slow movement.
“You were found, and while I wasn’t there, I was told you were in pretty rough shape. The eridian medical technology is definitely a bit more…advanced than back on earth, and I’ve got a helpful hand here.” The translator repeated his answer, which he hoped would actually answer the question and not just confuse the man further. “But– you’re alive! You were out for about a month after you were found, but–”
“Terra?” Simon interrupted, and Grace knew enough Latin to know that word. Earth, Simon was asking about Earth. What Grace didn’t understand was what exactly the question entailed.
“Uh–” He stopped, trying to mull over how to answer. Simon must be asking if Earth was ok? Right? “Earth, ya, I haven’t been there in a while, but it should be fine now, especially after Rocky and I sent back the Taumoeba to save the sun– at least, I hope everything’s ok– oh gosh, maybe I should’ve—”
Simon interrupted Grace’s frantic rambling with one word, and one word that threw Grace for a loop. “Angelus.”
Grace didn’t need the translator for that word; he knew it (and it was easy enough to understand without knowing basic Latin). “I– what?”
“Angelus,” Simon repeated.
He was calling him an angel– why was this random man calling Grace an angel? “No– I– I heard you, I understand– why? Why are you saying that?”
“Es,” Simon pointed at Grace before continuing, “angelus.”
Maybe it was a mistranslation, and he was misremembering Grace’s name– in his defense, Grace and Angel are similar in ideology. “No, I’m Grace,” He laughed awkwardly.
Simon shook his head. “Angelusne es [You are an angel]?”
Oh. Oh? “No– I’m a per– a human, like you. What– why would you–..?” Grace stopped himself, watching as Simon analyzed him, watching him with such a close eye.
“Nihil est [Never mind].”
Grace looked away, choosing that any other part of the room was far more interesting than meeting the critical eyes of the other. “Uh–! Maybe… Maybe we should take a break, let you get some more rest,” Grace stood from the table, letting the computer translate the rest of his sentence before picking it up. “I’ll be back later, ok?”
Simon simply nodded, pulling his knees to his chest, wrapping his arm around himself. He muttered something, something that neither the computer nor Grace picked up, before resting his chin on his knee, his mismatched eyes following every single movement Grace made as he walked out of the room and shut the door behind him.
Ok, so the man (Simon) was awake, and he was, somewhat, functioning fine. Sure, there was a slight language barrier, but Grace was going to speedrun learning the very basics of Latin so they could communicate without the computer. If Simon had bigger questions, Grace would just grab the computer and hope they could use that to solve any other communication issues. But– Grace had a feeling the next couple of weeks would be helping Simon feel comfortable and safe, all while getting him used to his new surroundings.
—+—
Grace was right. The next couple of weeks consisted of helping Simon get used to his new…body, per se, while also getting used to his new home. Grace learned he enjoyed gardening, and was happy to make sure Simon had a nice greenhouse where he could take care of his plants, which the Eridians were happy to help make seeds replicating Earth plants and veggies and fruits (thank the lord, because Grace was getting sick of the Taumoeba slop and the me-burgers — no matter how good they were).
Grace explained more of what he meant about saving the sun and such to Simon, who seemed to get even more confused. And, when Simon saw the night sky one night, he was shocked by the stars—almost had a panic attack—and Grace couldn’t quite grasp why. He figured they’d get to it eventually.
Grace also learned Simon was terrified of the ocean, at least at first. He still refuses to go into the water, but will sit on the beach and watch the waves from time to time, or stand with just his feet in the water while Grace enjoys the water, which was a perfect mix between cold and warm (not too cold, but not too hot, more of a soothing warmth). That was ok, Simon didn’t have to swim or be ok with the ocean, and if he wanted to work past the fear, they could work on it.
It was a nice couple of weeks, living in a simple domesticity with the man, all while still learning the horrors he faces and how they affected him. Calm was what it was, and Grace was more than happy with that after everything he’d been through, and he was sure Simon was too by the looks of it.
Oh! And Rocky and Adrian met Simon. It happened a couple of days after he woke up, and it went as well as one would expect. Adrian was fine, overjoyed that Simon was seeming to be getting better– Rocky, on the other hand, was less than thrilled when he heard about how Simon had…greeted Grace upon waking up, but seemed to be getting along better with Simon (at least when Grace and Adrian were paying attention).
Grace didn’t fully understand how Simon was able to communicate with Rocky and Adrian so well, but he assumed that all human languages must be as easy to piece together as English was, and Simon seemed to be a quick learner—he didn’t need a translator for Grace almost immediately, which was quite impressive for someone who seemed not to know any English. Grace assumed it was because English and Latin were similar, therefore easier to understand for someone who was a Latin speaker.
—+—
Ok, it’s been a month. Simon has improved a lot since he first arrived, both physically and mentally. It was nice, the way they both coexisted in the biodome, and it was amazing to have another human with him. Grace liked it, even if the language barrier made some things more difficult than needed.
Grace was joining Simon in the Greenhouse as he tended to his plants, mainly just looking around at everything as Simon silently did his work. The greenhouse was quite big. Adrian had gone all out to make sure Simon had everything he wanted. There were tons of plants, most of which Grace didn’t know the name of (was that cannabis?), flowers, even a couple of small trees, along with tons of veggie and fruit plants. It was beautiful, a home full of green, and Simon seemed right at home in the greenhouse, making sure all his plants were doing well.
Grace slowly made the rounds before coming up on Simon, who was surveying a plant—it was quite big, in a massive pot with beautiful green leaves that sprouted out from smaller vines, while having a big base to it and branch-like stems that sprouted into bigger leaves. Grace didn’t know what plant, but whatever it was, it was beautiful. Simon was poking at the soil, feeling before looking over the stems and leaves. But, from the way Simon’s brows were scrunched together, his nose pulled up as he looked over the plant, something seemed to be wrong.
Then, as Simon–carefully–looked over one stem, it snapped in half, and he cursed. “Fuck.”
At first, it didn’t register. But, as Grace then took in the word, he looked at Simon. Holy crap. “You can speak English?!” He didn’t even have time to think over what he was saying until he was facing Simon and asking the question, his tone taking on a more aggressive tint than intended.
Simon looked at him, his eyes going wide as he dropped the broken stem back into the pot. “Uh– ya?”
Oh. My. GOD. “Holy mackerel, why– how?”
“How?” Simon repeated, tilting his head. Either he truly was oblivious, or he was trying to mess with Grace.
“I’ve been under the assumption you only spoke Latin!” Grace shouted, a playful tone to his voice as the edges of his lips started to curl up in a smile. “Oh my– oh my god.”
Simon stared at him, his eyes carefully studying Grace as if he couldn’t tell what was happening. “You thought–” finally, a smile broke free across his face. “Oh.”
Grace then began laughing, almost hysterically, as he bent over, one hand grabbing onto the table to steady himself. His laughter must’ve been contagious, because almost immediately, Simon joined in on the laughing.
Sure, Grace had gotten the man to smile and chuckle, even snort, but he was pretty sure this was the first time Simon was genuinely laughing. They both practically double over, both laughing so hard their stomachs began to hurt as they let themselves fall to the ground.
“Sorry,” Simon croaked out as he calmed down, leaning against the wall behind him.
Grace just waved him off, shaking his head. “No– no, it’s ok– just, wow.”
The two began laughing again, and while it wasn’t as hard as before, it was still enough to hurt their cheeks.
Sure, they still had a lot to work on, a lot to work through. But this was nice. And nice was good enough for now.