Chapter Text
Grace is rudely awoken to the sound of something thudding onto the floor. It certainly wasn't normal to wake up like this. Most of his mornings were pretty peaceful other than the occasional Rocky knocking down his door. Maybe it was one of those mornings. He thought it was until he heard the deep and harsh wheezing from the other room.
Grace immediately opens his eyes and sits up, head on a swivel to see a man standing in his living room doorway. Oh, it's the man they rescued.
They stare at eachother for only a moment, studying eachother in equal measurements. Then the man looks around the room, judging it for everything that it is. Grace thinks his house is nice. Though he could've realistically asked for a mansion, something on the smaller side felt more akin to his life on Earth.
But back to the man, this moment of silence gives Grace the time to drink in the sight of a human being other than himself. Is it weird to say he forgot what that looked like? Sure, he saw himself in the mirror or people in movies. But he forgot how much space a person occupies in a room. It's like when you pictured meeting your favorite celebrity, but when you do, you realize theyre not this tall and mighty God you idealized. They're human, just like you.
While Grace had gotten used to seeing the sleeping man in his bedroom, he hadnt realized he would experience different feelings now that he was awake.
Before, the man was a sleeping beauty. A corpse. Just apart of the room.
He had pictured him the same way he did Yáo and Illyukhina. Bodies that looked like him, but were hollow of a soul. They were people that once existed in this story of his life before.
A fairytale.
Humans just felt so distant in his memory. The Ryland Grace on Earth and the Ryland Grace now were two seperate people in two seperate planes of existence, but deep down, he knew it was all contained inside of him. There was a comfort and a discomfort to knowing.
Grace raises himself off the couch to stand, earning a shutter from the man, eyes training back towards him. "Hi," Grace offered. When the man said nothing, he continued. "My name is Ryland Grace." Still, the man doesn't react. His sliver of an ego had kinda hoped he would get some recognition with the drop of his name, but he was left disappointed. He presses on. "And what's your name?"
The man shakes his head, looking a bit more frightened. Grace is confused. "Oh um. Is it that you don't speak English?" The man furls his eyebrows and sputters out assumably his first words since waking up. "Of fucking-- (cough) course I speak fucking Eng--." The man ruptures in a coughing fit, holding his throat.
"It's okay! You don't have to talk. Your body is still recovering. That's my mistake." The man breathes through struggling breaths, scowling at Grace.
"I'm sorry. If I'm being honest, I'm just really excited to see you awake. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you woke up." Grace tucks his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, beginning to walk towards the man, noticing how the man begins to lean away from him. "You should probably lay back down though. I don't want you to over-exert yourself." The man tenses the closer he gets.
Grace takes a pause in his step and holds up his hands playfully. "Im just gonna get you started on some food and water. I don't bite."
They stare at eachother, the other man not budging at all in his unforgiving glare.
"Seriously, I don't bite," Grace says with a bit more seriousness in his tone, hoping to sound convincing.
This man is looking at him like he hopes lazers will shoot out of his eyes. Grace isn't looking to risk his life over the chance he might just do that.
Still holding his hands up, he prods some more. "Sooo.. is it okay if we go back upstairs to the room?"
The man eyes the space behind him, seeming to mull the idea over in his head. Eventually, he nods. The man tries to turn around to head back the direction he came, but doesn't seem keen on the idea of letting Grace out of eyesight. Instead, he awkwardly holds his weight on the railing, slowly ascending the short staircase, while also continuing to stare at Grace.
It's the most intense staring contest Grace has ever been in as he slowly begins to follow the man. Even kids weren't this dedicated. It's a sad display, really, watching this hunk of muscle shuffle up the staircase. Grace felt bad for being witness to it.
The man finally reaches the landing and leans into the bed, not fully committing to being off guard.
Grace stands at the edge of the room, trying to adjust for the man's comfortability. Grace had been close to the man several times when he was unconscious, but this is a totally different animal. Even if the man didn't seem terrified, Grace was going through his own crisis at being so close to a human being. Turns out being isolated from your own species did weird things to your psyche. Who knew?
Alright, time for Grace to pretend to be a medical professional! He could basically add it to his ever growing list of new professions he was tasked with as Erid's new and only human specialist.
"So! Uh-" Grace stands a little taller and puts his hands on his hips, trying to play an authoritative figure. "Again, hi. I'm Ryland Grace. That, there--" he points towards the nanny bot, "is Armando. He's programmed to give medical attention and can make a mean cup of Joe." Grace diverts his attention towards Armando. "Armando?" The bot rotates towards Grace, giving a nod of one of it's hands as to say yes? Armando wasn't sentient whatsoever, but when youre roommate is a robot, you gotta get a little creative. "Can we get our mystery man a day one meal and some water, please?" Yes, Grace was polite to Armando. He wasn't going to be the one to start a robot takeover.
Much to mystery man's dismay, Armando begins to move on his overhead track mounted in the ceiling. The man pushes himself onto the bed a little further in an effort to clear some protective distance between himself and Armando. The bot swings around the room, then following the track down the stairs and towards the kitchen area.
With that, the room falls silent again except for the man's tense breaths. "Sooo.." Grace awkwardly taps his hands on his legs, looking down at his feet. "We could try getting you a keyboard to communicate for the time being. If you want-"
The man gasps. Grace looks up to see the man in sudden terror, eyes widened, holding his hand over his chest. "Oh God-" coughs the man violently. Grace begins to cross the room, worried the man might be in some medical distress.
He's suddenly grabbed by the neck of his shirt and pulled into the space infront of the man's face. Grace lets out a shriek that barely escapes his lips. Grace's hands fly to the nearest purchase- that being the man's singular arm and his shoulder. "Did you-" the man wheezes. "The black box. Please, please. Tell me you grabbed the black box. Please, god, please."
Grace stills his own panic, looking in the man's pleading eyes. "Yeah. We have it."
The man looks away and lets out a breath of relief, allowing himself to catch up on some of the oxygen he had lost from coughing. His fingers slowly lose their grasp on Grace, letting go of his collar.
Grace tries his damnedest to find control of himself again after feeling human touch in the first time in forever. He tries not to think about the way his breath felt hot on his face. He quickly pulls away from his own hold on the man. "Uh, yeah! We got it. I haven't been able to look at the files though. Ive been running a password decryption software--"
"Oh god, the password. What was it. What fucking was it," the stranger argues with himself, using his hand to bang violently against his temple. "Aye! No hitting!" Grace yells, wrenching the man's arm away from him. "You just woke up. I don't want you to concuss yourself." You can't die yet.
The man stares at him with confusion and then turns to look at his partial limb. Ryland cautiously releases the mans wrist. "Sorry," Grace sighs. His tone is laced with frustation. He brings a hand up to his mouth, contemplating what else he could say to remedy the situation.
Mystery man inspects his wrist before curling it to hold himself around his waist. "No, I'm sorry," the man's voice rasps. He's gotten a little bit more used to talking and holding his coughs. However, it still sounds like it hurts. "For hitting... and for grabbing you," the man clarifies. The corners of his eyes are wet.
They hear Armando whirring along the overhead track, coming back up the stairs. Grace makes space for the robot to enter before turning his attention back to the man. There's an effort to not let his stress levels reach his voice.
"How about this. You should get some food and water into your system. Slowly, though. If you puke, neither of us will be happy. You'll be in pain and I'll be stuck cleaning it. Im gonna pop out to get you a keyboard. Sound good?" Grace gives a thumbs up and a hesitant smile, trying to mask his uneasiness. The man focuses on his remaining hand, seeming to ask each individual finger to move, but eventually presents it to Grace. A shakey and limp thumbs up, but a thumbs up nevertheless.
Grace mouths okay and exits the room. He holds his breath until he's far away enough and exhales in exasperation. He's glad to be out, even for just a moment. He's been in a lot of hard rooms with worse audiences, but the stakes of this interaction are much newer. When youre trying to accommodate or even impress the nearest human in light years, there's a lot of pressure.
A sudden tear slips down his face.
Grace really hoped he got a name soon. It would be a shame if his vitals suddenly flipped and Grace wouldn't even know what name to mourn; wondering what he couldve done differently.
All the information swishing around in his head is all too much, but all too little at the same time.
----
Writers notes!
This fic is named after Hozier's song "Like Real People Do." It's a very bloodmary song for me.
I adore the idea of Simon waking up as a violent man, but I also believe in an apologetic, god-fearing Simon. He probably thinks he just woke up in a station infirmary and is thankful to be alive. Of course, he wants the blackbox to be safe, too. He wants his sacrifice to still mean something even if he gets to unintentionally survive. Furthermore, I don't think Simon is willing to give up his name initially. If he does, he believes he won't be able to tell apart reality and illusion.
Speaking of the infirmary, I imagine Simon is just like "wherever they put me is bougie as hell. Ive never seen a station that looks like this."
The laser eyes bit is somewhat of a reference to "The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya." I had just watched it, so it's fresh on the brain.
I think Grace can kinda relate to Simon banging his head over the importance of the password. Grace isn't exactly gentle to himself when he gets frustated, but that doesn't mean he wants Simon to hurt himself. He's a hypocrite; leave him alone lmao.
Also, I need the Erid house layout NOW. I don't understand where everything is 😭. The Armando ceiling track thing is for the convience of me. I think it's a neat idea.
And this note is more for the long-con of this fic, but they ain't falling in love for a long time. They get there eventually. They both have a lot of healing to do when it comes to how either men handle relationships and what relationships mean in the context of eachother's worlds. Welcome to the land of misunderstandings and improper communications.
Rocky has a lot to say as well.
I hope to revisit this fic, but if I don't, I hope you enjoyed reading it! <3