Chapter Text
"Grace! What are you doing to... oh, hey Simon. Where's Grace?"
"Second semester starts today. He's at work. Need something?"
"Damn. I need help with an experiment."
Simon was in the kitchen, looking for something to eat. Adrian had left hours ago to check on the progress of their house construction. Grace was back to work. It was just him and Rocky, who he had thought was going to stay in the basement all day.
It had been a month since his fight against Void. There were still times where his body ached and he wasn't able to go on patrol. Most of his days were spent with Grace, Adrian, and Rocky. Today was the first day he was supposed to be left fully alone since the fight. He was thankful for the interruption.
"What do you need help with? Maybe Ellie and I could give you a hand," Simon asked, closing the pantry door and turning to the man.
Rocky thought about it for a moment, tapping his thumb against his leg. "I was going to have Grace test some mechanical web shooters... but you could help me with some other things. He gets scared about some things."
"What kind of other things? No fire or alarms," Simon clarified as Ellie appeared in his face.
"I would love to!" She told him, without wanting to get any more information.
Rocky waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry. No fire. No alarms. Just testing out some things Grace and I have been working on."
There was no reason not to trust him. Simon had seen some of the gadgets he and Grace had made in action. Where was the harm in helping? As long as he followed instructions and didn't touch anything, it would all be fine.
This was easier said than done. Simon had yet to go into the basement. He had been warned by Adrian that it was a bit messy and full of half-made robotics. That was an understatement.
The basement steps were creaky and dusty. Ellie hovered over his shoulder, looking around wildly. The half of the basement closer to the stairs looked normal. There were a few piles of boxes and plastic tubs. One corner had a couch and mini fridge. The other side was sectioned off with opaque shower curtains.
Rocky walked towards the curtains, rolling one back to show off what was behind it. The mess was worse back there. Metal plates, wires, motherboards, and all kinds of other parts were strewn about everywhere. Not an inch of table was free of items. There were two rolling chairs facing each other.
The only option to avoid messing with the things was to sit or stand in the middle of the room. Rocky wasn't nearly as careful. He pushed some stuff to the side to set his water bottle on the table. Condensation rolled down the side, dripping close to a handful of wires.
Simon thought they were being way safer than this.
"So, we've actually been working on some things for you, too, if you want to try those as well," Rocky told him, grabbing a box from under a table. It was filled with different items.
Ellie pooled out, forming a left arm. It was becoming normal at this point. Any time he needed to do something important, she would provide. Soon enough, summer would be here and he wouldn't be able to do it in public. Long sleeves and gloves weren't a good excuse when the flowers were blooming.
"I'll test whatever you give me," Simon told him, still slightly uncomfortable in the space.
He and Rocky hadn't talked much. Between both of them getting majorly injured, it was a little hard to find time to get to know each other. Sure, Grace and Adrian talked about him all the time, but you can't claim to really know someone until you hang around them. Rocky seemed to have no such qualms as he pulled some primitive looking bits of metal from the box.
There were wires and tiny black chunks attached to what looked like it should be a glove. "Sorry, Adrian is a far better sewer than me," Rocky told him, handing over the pair. Gingerly taking them, Simon looked over the machines.
"What are they?" He asked, trying to figure out the machinery.
Rocky sat in his rolling chair, pivoting around with his foot. "Those are magnetic gloves. We actually came up with the idea before meeting you. The thought was if something happened to Grace's stickiness, they could prevent him from falling. But they could actually work for you too if something happens and Ellie can't come out."
That made sense. Simon lost grip much more often. In fact, he had yet to see Grace lose grip on something if he didn't want to. But there was no harm in prepping for things that haven't happened.
"Grace also mentioned that Stratt mentioned wanting your help with some complicated customers. You wouldn't be able to have Ellie out all the time if that happens," Rocky told him, wheeling over to show him how to put the gloves on properly.
"Wait, what?"
"Grace didn't tell you?"
"No. This is the first I've heard of it," Simon replied. Once the first glove was on, he managed to put the second on fine.
Rocky hummed quietly, pushing away to roll back to his desk. "Eh, Grace mentioned it last night. Probably just forgot. He wouldn't purposely keep something like that from you."
Simon really hoped that's what it was. For the most part, Grace was pretty open with him about everything happening with SHIELD and Stratt. There were only a few things that he kept for a few days until he was sure Simon was in a good mood.
Everything was going so well. He really hoped this wasn't the first leak before the dam broke.
"Alright, what do I do?" Simon questioned, clasping his hands. They didn't budge.
He tried to pry his hands off of each other, but they were stuck as if glued. Rocky's eyes widened as a small laugh came out. "Whoops, those weren't supposed to be activated yet. Hit the button on the back."
There was a small red button on the back of his hands. Simon had to use his chin to press it. In a blink, his hands were mobile and free to do as he pleased. Little black rectangles lined his fingers and palms.
"These are some strong magnets," he commented, examining the device on his hands. It was quite the fascinating bit of tech.
Rocky nodded as he stood and approached. "They need to support a grown man's body weight. They have to be. Try sticking to the rafters."
Rafters were supposed to be wooden. Simon looked up and sure enough, there was a long metal beam that ran across the ceiling. For floor. Or whatever it was. Simon didn't care what it was.
It wasn't very far up, just a few inches from his hand if he put his arms all the way up. He didn't need any assistance from Ellie to reach it. With a small jump, he hit the beam with his hands and hit the ground.
He forgot to turn them back on. With an embarrassed sigh, Simon pressed the red button again. "It's alright. Grace would have tried at least five more times," Rocky assured, laughing quietly.
"You sure?" Simon asked, shaking his hands as a slight tingling sensation ran through his fingers.
"Oh, yes. For such a smart man, Grace can be very stupid," Rocky replied, crossing his arms and watching Simon intensely.
This time, he wasn't going to make a fool of himself. Jumping up, Simon tried to tap the beam. His entire hand was suctioned to it, leaving him hanging in the air. Legs flailing, Simon tried to free his hand. It didn't move.
As he reached up to try and pry his hand away, the other glove stuck to the beam. Now he was hanging from both hands with no way down. The gloves were strapped to his hands, making it impossible to slide them off. Velcro and wires dug into his wrists.
"Little help here," he grunted, fighting against the magnets. Rocky grabbed a folding chair from behind some boxes.
"Can you not move at all?" He asked, staring more at the contraptions than Simon. The man was thankful for that. Rocky slowly climbed onto the chair, examining where the gloves met the beam.
Simon flexed his hands, trying not to swing his body too much. It was weird, being completely suspended except for his hands. "Nope. No give. I am very stuck."
"Fascinating." Rocky pressed the red button and the gloves let go. Without any warning, Simon fell on his feet wrong and ended up hitting his knees and hands. "Ooh, sorry. Grace normally stares at what I'm doing."
Simon wasn't Grace. He didn't verbalize that thought. Rocky didn't have any bad intentions in saying that. "Can't move my hands at all when they stick," Simon told the man, adjusting the gloves.
Pausing to write something down, Rocky hummed quietly. "I'll need to adjust them then. Still up to help?"
Even being used as a punching bag beat sitting around and doing nothing. Besides, it was pretty fun getting to see all the things Rocky and Grace were working on. "Course. Told you I'd help, didn't I?"
"I know," Rocky shrugged, digging through the box again. "But what Grace and I do can be intense to some people. Especially people who aren't as interested in these things."
It really was starting to feel like Rocky just wanted him to be Grace. Taking the gloves off, Simon held back a sigh. He handed them over as another gadget was pulled from the box. They just looked like normal sunglasses.
"These were designed so that Adrian or I could see what you guys are seeing. After what happened with Void, we wanted an easier way to get information," Rocky explained, handing the glasses to him.
"How do they work?"
A smile spread across Rocky's lips as he turned to his computer. "They are synced to this screen here. So once the pass code is said, full visuals." As he spoke, he clicked on a program and a black screen appeared. "Astrophage."
The screen lit up. Half of it showed Rocky and the computer in hazy, slightly red tinted vision. The other half was covered by Simon's hand. He quickly adjusted his grip so it was fully visible.
"So you don't have to guess what is happening."
"Exactly! We could actually be a bit of help rather than just waiting to be told what's happening," Rocky told him excitedly, throwing his hands in the air.
Simon slowly unfolded them, worried he may break them. These didn't seem nearly as flimsy as the gloves. To his shock, the lenses didn't obscure his vision. It was probably Ellie enhancing his eyesight. Everything he looked at was mirrored on the screen.
"Of course, the glasses were just a way to keep the camera on your face. We're looking into ways of being able to present information to you. It just keeps taking up the entire lens." Rocky demonstrated as he spoke, pulling up a random news article about the best environment for houseplants. Just as he said, it covered the entire lens, making it nearly impossible to read.
Definitely a problem. Simon had no way to help him fix it. It was cool in theory.
Honestly, he had no clue about any of these things. None of the results seemed to be surprising Rocky and he wasn't a scientist nor a mechanic. The most he knew was how to fix ovens from the singular time he read a manual to something.
"The problem isn't with getting it to the lense. Just can't seem to figure out how to make it small," Rocky mumbled, more so to himself than to Simon. "I tried broadcasting it smaller, but that didn't work."
"Is it a problem with the glasses?" Simon questioned, tapping them twice. The image moved around slightly but stayed the same size.
Rocky looked back to him with squinted eyes. "May I?" He asked, extending his hand. Simon handed over the glasses and watched as the man examined them. Using a little screwdriver, he pressed on some things and took off a few panels, moving around what was inside.
Simon's eyes roamed as Rocky worked silently. Grace's basement was a bit cluttered, but most of it wasn't bad compared to the machine room. There were a few stacks of boxes with holiday decorations. Washer and dryer in the corner with the proper soap and softener. Across the room was the couch he had noticed earlier.
There was a small TV against the wall, obscured when walking down the stairs. It was sitting on a long, old dresser. Beside it was a ratty box. Its label was yellowed with bold black words. The handwriting was far worse than what Grace normally used. "Ry's Shit: Don't Touch."
That was interesting. Despite how much Grace talked about his kids and his life now, he was incredibly cagey about his past. Simon had only approached the subject a handful of times. All he normally got was that he had a rough childhood.
"Question. If I could section the lens into different quadrants, think that would make it smaller?" Rocky asked, tapping the screwdriver against his lips.
"Uh... probably?" Quadrants were four... like a coordinate plane. Dividing the lense, well, Simon wasn't sure how that would be done. He wasn't even sure how the thing worked.
"That's what I was thinking," Rocky told him with a confident smile. "Okay, one more thing."
Yay. One more thing he couldn't actually help with. Simon didn't like being alone, but the longer he spent in this place, the stupider he felt. How did Rocky and Grace manage to not only come up with this stuff, but actually make it into a thing? Some days he could barely cut an onion.
He was good outside. He excelled when he and Ellie were able to track down bad guys and take them out. That's what he was good at. He wasn't an inventor. He wasn't Rocky and he wasn't Grace.
"So, this one is actually an alpha prototype. It hasn't been tested before, but it should be safe," Rocky warned him, walking over to one of the machines on the table.
"Should be?"
"Nothing has ever blown up before," Rocky assured with a small, nervous smile. It did nothing to help the fear rising in Simon's chest. If that thing did blow, Ellie was weak to fire. He didn't want her to get hurt.
It'll be fine, she told him quietly.
I hope you're right.
Rocky showed off a box filled with little star shaped devices. "We've been calling them Star-Tracers. Since you two have been getting into more than just petty criminals, figured trackers might be useful. They emit radio waves that we can pick up with a tracker. Grace can actually get the emitter part with his spider senses too. I was wondering if Ellie could sense them."
"I can do anything he can," she bragged, wrapping around Simon's shoulders.
"Except stand in a room with loud sirens," Simon pointed out. She hit her head against his chest, growling quietly. Stumbling back, he laughed at the reaction. It was quite easy to get her angry.
To his shock, Rocky ran forward, grabbing his shoulder. He must have made a face because the man let go quickly after pulling him back to the center of the makeshift room. Clearing his throat, he said, "Sorry. That wall wasn't solid and you do not want to run into what's back there."
What the hell was back there? "Holding out on me, Rocky?" He teased, turning back and looking at the curtains that covered whatever was back there. These ones were black and completely unable to see through.
"Just don't want to show you unfinished tech," Rocky told him quickly, sitting down and messing with the box of tracers.
"Isn't that all you've been doing?"
"Star-Tracers! I wanna know if you can detect them." That was a weird reaction. If Rocky didn't want to talk about something, it was nearly impossible to get it out. Only Adrian could get him to admit these things, and they were at work.
So Simon would play his game. He would know what was back there eventually. If he wanted to pretend it didn't happen, Simon could pretend. Grace was far easier to break. He would just ask the man later. Take him off guard and he was practically assured to get an answer.
Getting to see all the inventions, while mildly frustrating, was actually quite interesting. He and Adrian were always hearing them talk about things or banging around in the basement without knowing what was going on. For once, he felt a bit useful, even if he didn't have much help. Certainly Rocky would have kicked him out if he wasn't being any help.
Rocky picked up one of the little devices and tossed it in his hand. Without words, he threw it at the stairs and the device stuck to the wood. It let out a small, constant, high pitched sound. Not bad enough to drive Ellie out, but definitely annoying.
Simon winced slightly, fighting the urge to cover his ears. "Is the sound normal?" He questioned, blinking a few times and trying to think passed the sound that filled his mind.
"You can hear something?" Rocky had his notepad out and flipped to a page. "What's it sound like?"
"High. Annoying. Constant. Not enough to hurt, but definitely making my thoughts weird," Simon told him, fighting the urge to tear his hair out or hit something. He hated that his first urge was violence. It was so grating.
Rocky nodded and clicked around on his computer. In a blink, the sound stopped and Simon's head pounded. He needed medication. Ellie was never able to get rid of sound induced migraines quickly. "That's odd. Grace never mentioned hearing anything, just like, a sense for where they are."
"Definitely making a sound," Simon sighed, rubbing his temples.
"Destory it," Ellie muttered bitterly, receding back into his body to recover. It wouldn't prevent them from doing anything later, but he definitely needed to go pop some painkillers.
Walking over to retrieve the device, Rocky nodded slowly. "So, was it fairly loud?"
He did not want to think about the sound again, but Rocky probably wouldn't let up quickly. "Not loud. Just... incessant. I think that's the word."
Rocky let out a small sound of surprise, returning the device to its box and writing something down. The sound of a door opening reached his ears and Simon focused on it. Light footsteps meant it was probably Grace.
The other man didn't seem to notice. He continued writing and murmuring to himself. Sounds were too loud. His mind was hyper focused. Every little sound and movement stole his attention.
"It's very interesting. You and Ellie's senses actually align very well with Grace's for most things," Rocky told him, flipping through his notes. "I've been noticing it a lot lately. Your hearing is very comparable. You have superior sight at night, but during the day it's the same. The only major difference is the webs and your perfect memory. It's rather odd considering how different your circumstances are."
"You've been taking notes on us?" That had to be some kind of invasion of privacy.
Rocky glanced up, drumming his fingers on his notepad. "No. I've been taking notes on Grace. I just noticed similar things about you. You should really let me run experiments on your abilities."
"Not happening."
Despite the harsh statement, Rocky smiled and shrugged. Simon instantly felt bad. He had no reason to be in such a bad mood, but all day he seemed incapable of thinking anything but bitter thoughts. Maybe it was good he was confined to the basement with Rocky, who didn't seem to hold grudges. The last thing he wanted was to say the wrong thing to Grace.
"Not to pry, but are you feeling alright?" Of course he noticed. Rocky was a smart man and he could tell when someone was in a bad mood.
With a small sigh, Simon sat down, resting his face on one hand. He could try to lie to the man, but what was the point in it? He wouldn't be asking if he thought everything was alright. Maybe he would tell Simon there was a gas leak or something to explain his sour mood.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Simon told him, "Honestly? No. I don't know why, but I'm just... everything just keeps pissing me off today. I have no clue why."
Rocky hummed, pursing his lips as he looked over Simon carefully. "Probably going stir-crazy," he suggested simply.
"What the fuck is that?" He had never heard of such a thing before. Was Rocky really sitting here and calling him crazy?
"Well, it's kinda disease adjacent, ish. It usually happens because you've been stuck in one place for a long time without a break. It causes a person to get pretty restless and, sometimes, angry."
"You think I'm going crazy?"
"No! No. It's very unfortunately named," Rocky told him, cracking his knuckles anxiously. "Here. It's real. I swear."
He turned to his computer, typing a few things. Simon was just curious enough to walk over. Sure enough, multiple articles and dictionary definitions appeared. So it was real. He was partly convinced Rocky had made it up to mess with him.
"I need to get out of this fucking house," Simon muttered, backing away from the screen. He had grown so used to being trapped in places, getting the ability to leave as he pleased had felt odd. That, and every public place was loud and overwhelming.
"I'd put money on it," Rocky replied with a thumbs down. He always seemed to do that when he meant a thumbs up. It was something Simon had learned to accept quickly.
The door to the basement opened and the first step creaked. Both men looked up as Grace walked down the stairs, still in his suit from school. "What are you two doing?" He asked, glasses low on his nose. His tone was something akin to asking a dog what was in their mouth.
"You hate me, so Simon was helping me test some things out," Rocky said flippantly, waving a screwdriver around.
"Oh, because I went to my job that pays me to be there, I hate you?" Grace responded quickly, walking into the makeshift room. There was barely enough room for all three of them. "Did you test the thi-"
"Shush!"
All eyes were on Rocky. "The thing?" Simon questioned, looking between the men.
Grace sighed, turning to Rocky with a disappointed look. "Just had to shush me."
"You were gonna ruin it!"
"He doesn't know what the thing is! You could have lied and said it was literally anything you tested today!"
"What is the thing?!" Simon asked louder, growing slightly concerned about their secrecy.
The other two shared a look and Rocky sighed. "There goes my plan of making it a cool surprise," he muttered.
Grace walked over to the black curtain he had almost run into before. "It's not finished, and it was supposed to be a surprise gift, but that's kinda ruined." Which explained why Rocky was so weird about him being near that before.
"A gift?" His birthday wasn't anywhere close to soon and Christmas was a month ago. That was the only time he had been told it was normal to give people extravagant gifts. Safe to say, they had his interest.
Rocky crossed his legs, getting over his disappointment quickly and smiling. "Well, spring will be here soon and you won't be able to have an alien arm in public. So we came up with a solution."
What.
Grace rolled back the curtain with a bit of flair. Behind it was an engraved piece of metal shaped almost perfectly like an arm. It was slightly smaller than his, but that didn't matter. Picking it up, Grace walked over to show it off.
It was a deep bronze color, clearly made from metal. Rather than smooth and round, it was made of different prisms. There were deep ridges that seemed to create a pattern but had no other purpose.
"It's ridiculously expensive to buy prosthetics. And they don't normally function as well as a normal limb. But Ellie seems to have pretty good control. So we made sure it was hollow. It's mostly just to hide her."
Simon really wanted to cry. He didn't. Ellie appeared, examining the metal excitedly. He had never been ashamed of her, but he also didn't want the public to hunt them. "You two made this?" He asked, hating the way his voice broke.
"Can we try it?" Ellie questioned, beaming harder than Simon had ever seen. He had thought she would be angry about being cover. "It's pretty."
"My idea. The indents make it hit harder. Like rings. Though it would help in a pickle," Rocky told her with a broad smirk.
Like Simon needed a harder punch. As if the alien wasn't enough. "If it's ready. Ry said it wasn't finished."
"Oh, just some exterior stuff," Grace replied quickly. "Interior is completely done."
"Simon, please," Ellie begged, batting her eyes. She knew he hated it when she did that. It was just weird knowing she was an alien parasite in his body doing such a thing.
He sighed, but couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face. This had to be the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him. With a nod, he glanced at Grace. He seemed to be telling the truth about it being finished.
The wound where he ripped his arm off was not pretty. Ellie did all she could to fix it, but there was only so much she could do to torn flesh. The prosthetic wouldn't be able to go over his clothes. He had yet to actually show off all the scars he had from the fight with Void and life. He wasn't interested in an interrogation.
Unbuttoning only as much of his shirt as he needed to, Simon pulled what was left of his arm out of his sleeve as the Ellie-made arm disappeared. "It's supposed to slide over your arm. If it's too small, say something please," Grace told him, offering the metal slowly.
The second it made contact with his skin, Simon could feel it. Of course he could feel it, it was touching him. But he could feel it like a limb. Ellie took control of it easily. The limp metal quickly turned ridged as Simon balled his fist and relaxed it.
"It works!" Grace exclaimed, clapping loudly and looking at Rocky with a wide smile. "We were so scared it wouldn't work."
"It works." This didn't feel real. The arm did, but this moment didn't. Who would have guessed they had been spending their free time on something like this. All Grace and Rocky normally worked on was things for them to use as vigilantes. This was just to benefit him as a civilian.
His words didn't come out the way he wanted them to. He stopped trying to make them work. At his thought, the hand and arm flexed. Every thought translated to it immediately. He knew it was Ellie operating it, but it didn't look like it. It looked like a proper prosthetic. One totally not controlled by alien goo.
"Thank you, from both of us," Ellie told them sincerely. Simon was glad she spoke. If he tried to speak right now, it probably wouldn't work.
"It was no problem," Rocky responded quietly, face bright and happy.
He was really struggling not to cry. Hundreds of emotions he had been pushing into the 'for later' folder in his mind came back. The last month had been slow, peaceful, boring, exhilarating, and full of emotions. Most of the time, a thought would appear like 'Oh, I need to visit Ethan's grave' and he would decide he didn't want to think about it.
He really needed to visit Ethan.
"Thank you," he murmured, blinking away the tears that came to his eyes.
"You should keep it on for a while. See how everything feels and works," Rocky suggested. He was leaning back in his chair, studying Simon. After their conversation about he and Grace's similarities, he was starting to notice when the man was examining him more.
Ellie expressed her support of the idea in his mind. If only she had actually verbalized it. The other may think she was crazy. "Sounds like a good idea to me," he said calmly, not meeting her dramatic enthusiasm.
"Are you going out tonight? It's not supposed to snow again until tomorrow at noon," Rocky asked. The question was a little pointed. He meant well, Simon reminded himself.
"You mentioned wanting to check up on Wil the other day, right?" Grace recalled, leaning against his table.
"Yeah. Haven't heard from him in a few days. Just want to make sure he's alright," Simon told him, crossing his arms. It felt good to be able to cross his arms again. "You haven't seen the Rollerway at night before, have you?"
"Nope."
Simon nodded, glancing at Rocky who raised an eyebrow as if demanding he stayed a while. "It's a fun place if you're willing to stick around for a while."
Grace smirked, walking toward the exit curtain and moving it away. "Are you asking me on a date?" He teased, a quiet laugh following his words. Rocky would have insisted they leave if not for them already being in the process.
"Only like, the seventh in the last three weeks," Simon replied with a soft smile. They left the workshop with a wave to Rocky, who made an exaggerated gagging sound.
Walking back to the stairs, Simon noticed the box in the corner again. Ry's Shit: Do Not Touch stared at him in those big bold letters. It was normally better to ask these things when he was in a good mood.
"Hey, Ryland. I have a question." Grace could feel the difference in atmosphere. He continued to climb the stairs, but glanced back to urge Simon to continue. "What's with the box by the TV? The one that says Ry's Shit?"
He paused at the top of the stairs, hand pausing on the door handle. "Oh, that. It's old. Just some trinkets from childhood," he explained, voice strangely monotonous. The door opened with a soft click as they walked back to the main floor.
Of course it had something to do with his past. And of course Simon had to ask about it and kill the good mood.
He needed to get out more.
"You feeling alright? You keep wincing at loud sounds," Grace asked, completely ignoring the previous mood.
Simon groaned, trying to avoid wincing at the sound of their shoes on the hardwood. "Those damn tracers let out this awful sound. Gave me a headache. I'll be fine."
"You could hear the tracers?" Grace very clearly began walking towards the kitchen to grab painkillers. "I can't even hear them."
There was a slight pout to his words that made it impossible to stay annoyed by the pain in his head. "Yeah. Like a tiny hole letting air out. It was irritating."
Walking over to a specific drawer, Grace nodded along with his words, grabbing two pills from it. "You don't need to let Rocky keep you if you don't feel well," he reminded the man, handing him the pills and turning back around.
Simon took them dry. He was used to it. It wasn't as hard as most people thought. That hadn't been Grace's attention as he reached for a glass and the painkillers were already gone. Once he had seen what Simon did, he slowly put the glass down. "That works too," he muttered to himself.
"Better than that time I drank rubbing alcohol," he shrugged, leaning against the wall.
"You what?!"
"Oh, I didn't mention that? Drank it in prison. About killed me."
"It was rubbing alcohol. Of course it almost killed you!" Grace said, eyes wide in shock. "How are you alive?"
The loud words sent a sharp pain through Simon's head. He needed to lay down for a while. "Luck, I guess," he replied casually, looking to see if Adrian had come home and took the couch. They normally continued to look over things when they came home. Grace's bag was sitting there, but nobody else. "I need a nap before going to Wil's. This headache might kill me if I don't."
"You can take my bed. I've got some stuff to grade," Grace offered, gesturing to his bag. There were color coded folders in it for every hour he taught. At least, there normally was. Simon could guess he had put them back in for the new semester.
Simon wouldn't complain. Free bed and a nap. The only thing that would make it better was if he could convince Grace to stay instead of going back to the living room.
His mind continued to wander back to the box of Ryland's things. None of its contents were visible. What an interesting pair they made. One who barely knew his past, and another who never spoke about it.
All Simon remembered was a few vague memories with his mother and a few nights hiding from the elders with Ethan. Most of his memories were of prison. Now all the ones with Ethan were tainted. Every time he thought of the man's name, the thought of 'it's been weeks and you haven't visited' followed.
"So, what is Wil's bar like?" Good. A distraction.
"It's really colorful, and the people are nice. Wil tries to keep it fairly contained. Fights are pretty rare," he told the man, flopping onto his bed and sighing. It had been a long time since he actually hung around the Moonlight Rollerway for more than a few minutes.
A voice appeared in his mind as Ellie chimed in. It's loud. Of course it was loud, it was a bar. Grace nodded to himself, taking off his tie and jacket and throwing them in a nearby hamper. "Is there a dress code?"
"It's not a school, Ryland," he teased with a grin as Grace unbuttoned his shirt.
"Hey, some clubs have dress codes," Grace defended, dropping his dress shirt in the hamper before walking to his dresser. It gave Simon a good view of his back. Thin scars littered his skin from their nights roaming the city and stopping crime. It was rare for Grace to show the old wounds.
Rolling his eyes, Simon rested his hands behind his head as a fond smile played on his lips. "I mean, Wil normally wears this bright pink satin shirt if that helps. He's never yelled at me for the way I dress."
"Yeah, but we have very different views of casual wear," Grace replied, putting on a bright red shirt that said, "Ah! The element of surprise."
"What? Don't want to go on a date in your science shirts?" Simon asked, smirking as Grace rolled his eyes with a smile.
Once his clothes were changed, Grace walked over to sit on the bed beside Simon. "You know, normally it's me taking you somewhere you've never been. I'm kinda liking this."
Wrapping an arm around Grace's waist, a small laugh escaped Simon's lips. "And I would kinda like it if you stayed and kept me company," he told the man, looking up at him.
"I need to get these assignments graded," Grace mumbled, brushing hair out of Simon's eyes. He had him. Grace was a very easy man to convince.
Laying his hand on top of Grace's, Simon pressed a gentle kiss to his palm. "Why not grade them here? There's plenty of clipboards in the office," he suggested, rubbing small circles on the back of Grace's hand with his thumb.
Grace clenched his jaw a few times before letting out a quick breath. "Fine. You're lucky you're handsome," Grace relented, hanging his head but never losing his smile.
"Yay me," Simon murmured, leaning up to press a kiss to Grace's lips. It was quick, but no less as sweet. After a moment, Grace pulled away and stood, adjusting his glasses.
"I'll be back," he promised, tugging on the hem of his shirt.
Laughing to himself, Simon said, "I'll be waiting." As he laid back down, he could hear each one of Grace's footsteps. Without the distraction, the pounding in his head became much more noticeable again. He hoped that it went away, otherwise Wil's bar would be miserable.
Closing his eyes, Simon tried to take his focus away from all the sounds shooting pain through his head. In his efforts, he became aware of every hair touching his face and every seam out of place on his clothes. The energy to fix it had left the second he laid down.
The door opened again as Grace walked back in. Simon didn't need to open his eyes to tell. He would know the sound of Grace's footsteps and heartbeat anywhere.
The bed dipped as Grace sat down, his pen clicking. Until Simon had seen him grade papers, he had thought the red pen was just a thing in movies. "Assingments on the first day back from break? You're not a very nice teacher," he teased quietly, keeping his eyes closed to shield from the sun trying to come through the curtain.
"Thought you were asleep," Grace laughed, patting his shoulder. "They're fine. It was a ten minute in class thing. But I promised I would have them graded for tomorrow."
Simon hummed, managing to find the energy to brush the remaining hair off his face. "Sure. Whatever you say." Grace scoffed lightly, already marking up a paper. "Wake me when you're done, please?"
"I suppose," Grace responded, voice soft and happy.
With a soft smile, Simon relaxed and let sleep creep into his mind. There was no fire or warehouses in his dream. Just a thick forest and a stone cross. Nothing was said. The grave had no name.
He was pulled from the dream carefully. The first thing he felt was the brush of a hand on his cheek. Squinting against the dim light, he peered up at Grace. The light formed a half halo around his head.
"How's your head feeling?" He asked quietly, glasses hanging low on his face.
The pain had almost completely vanished. Ellie had stopped whining, which always meant good things. Thinking for a moment, Simon replied, "I don't know. Might need to kiss it better."
As a small scoff escaped Grace's throat, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Simon's temple. "Better?" He whispered, hovering close and twirling a strand of Simon's hair absentmindedly.
"Close," Simon responded, a smile overtaking his face as he leaned up to press a kiss to Grace's lips. "Your aim was a little off."
Laughing to himself, Grace stood and smoothed the sheets where he had been sitting. Simon moved slowly. There was no rush to stand. He watched as Grace fiddled with his sleeves. He had changed into a white dress shirt at some point.
The sun was close to being fully set. A ripple of colors painted the sky. "Are we going the fun way or the normal way?" Simon inquired, convincing himself to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed.
"People might see us if we take the fun way," Grace replied, unable to decide if he wanted his sleeves rolled or not.
"My face is perfectly covered."
"Mine isn't!"
"Guess you just aren't cool enough to have an awesome alien in your head to cloak you," Simon shrugged, standing and immediately leaning against the wall to look at the other man. Grace was staring back with his usual grin. "Gonna get your keys?"
"Be right back," Grace replied, patting his shoulder and slipping past. After a moment, Simon followed.
Grace walked into his office as Simon went farther to the kitchen to put his boots on. Adrian and Rocky were sitting on the couch watching a bad soap opera. Were there any good soap operas? Not in his experience.
"Going to Wil's?"
"Yeah. We'll probably be out for a while," Simon told him, lacing his boots quickly.
Adrian nodded, turning the volume of the TV down a few clicks. "Good. You've been in here too long. Going to get cabin fever soon."
"Already do," Simon muttered quietly as he stood. Sleeping had helped brighten his mood a bit, but he really wanted to leave. "You two doing anything entertaining tonight?"
"Getting takeout and falling asleep to our show," Rocky replied, hitting the back of the couch twice. Not long after, Grace walked in while twirling his keys. He gestured towards the door and Simon nodded, following close behind.
As he opened the door, Grace waved at the pair. "Don't have too much fun without us," he said, chuckling quietly.
"Curfew is ten o'clock young man," Rocky teased, lowering his voice and burrowing his brows dramatically.
"My dad never gave me a curfew," Grace retorted with a smirk as he walked out of the door.
His parents must have really trusted him. Even the older boys in Eden had to be back in their rooms by a certain time. It's why Simon enjoyed looking at the stars so much. They were practically banned from going outside after dark. Probably worried a kid would run away and never come back. Simon would have if given the chance.
The car ride was quiet. Grace played music and hummed along. Simon avoided talking for fear of distracting the man and getting them both killed. He needed to learn how to drive soon. If for no reason but to never have to pray to survive a drive with Grace.
All he said were the directions to the bar. It wasn't hard to get to. There was a shocking amount of cars outside of it. Simon watched as multiple different groups entered. It was an odd time of day for it to be so busy.
"Some kind of event happening tonight?" Grace questioned as he parked his car.
"Not as far as I know. Wil only does events on Friday's and the occasional roller night. But those are at the end of the month. It's just a normal night," Simon told him, trying to think of a reason for all the people.
Wilford wouldn't mind the extra customers. More people meant more profit. Extra people did make his nerves stir. All the more people that could come after them.
Brushing the thoughts away, Simon led Grace to the front door. It was unlocked as always. A bouncer stood there, but they had learned Simon's face months ago. He was never even asked for a card. A few people in line tried to complain, but it was shut down quickly.
The bar was absolutely packed. Music blared through the speakers, pounding on Simon's ears. The painkillers were a good idea. The sound might have killed him without them. Grace laced their fingers together as he struggled to stay close.
Wilford was at the bar, dancing along to the music as he mixed a drink. There was a single seat available. Simon walked up beside it, offering the chair to Grace as he tapped the bartop. The man behind it glanced up and smiled as he poured the drink he was making.
As soon as it was delivered to the proper patron, he walked over with a broad smile. "Simon, hello! It has been a while. I was beginning to think you forgot about me."
"Oh, I could never forget you, Wilford," Simon replied, smiling back and glancing at Grace. He seemed far more comfortable in the loud, overcrowded building. Then again, Grace had told him before he had been wild in his college days.
Wilford let out a loud laugh as he looked at Grace. "And I see you finally brought your doll. How do you do, Ryland Grace? Wilford Motherloving Warfstache at your service. Your wish is mine."
Grace took the man's outstretched hand in a firm shake. "How do you-"
"Don't question how he knows things. Just go with it," Simon told him quietly. He received a wink in response from Wilford.
"Speaking of!" Wilford interjected, clapping his hands loudly. "Simon, would you give me a hand very quickly? Can't get one of my crates in the back open. Hands have been shaky lately."
Simon glanced at Grace quickly. They had come as a date, but if Wilford's powers were affecting him, he didn't want to leave him high and dry. "Come on, Wilford? You want to steal my date without giving me a drink first?" Grace teased, smiling and pushing his glasses up.
"Promise I'll be right back," Simon told him. It would not be like the one time Wilford asked for help opening a bottle and he ended up dusting the shelves. That was a one time thing and he had no other commitments.
"I'll be listening," Grace told him, tapping his right ear as Simon walked behind the bar.
Sometimes he forgot that Grace also had super hearing. Quickly walking into the storage room behind the bar, Simon decided to test it. "Still hear me?" He asked, looking at the boxes in the room.
There were a few in a corner that normally didn't have boxes. There were dents on the lid from failed attempts to open. "Yeah. Still hear me?" Grace asked. His voice was muffled through the door, but definitely still there and still him.
"Slightly loud and mostly clear." He heard Grace laugh as he picked up a crowbar. With Ellie's help, it would be like gliding through butter.
"Oh, uh, hey."
"Hey what?"
"Not you," Grace said quietly. Instantly, Simon was listening for other nearby voices as he lifted the crowbar to the crates.
There was a second one nearby that definitely wasn't someone he knew. Their words were disrupted as the crate lid crunched open. "-such a long time. I wanted to see how you're doing."
Grace had specifically told him before that Adrian and Rocky were some of his only friends in the city that he cared about. Simon moved on to the next crate. He knew that Grace could handle himself, but he didn't like not knowing what was going on.
"Yeah, it has. I thought you were working on some big project right now?" Grace's voice was unnaturally stiff. Simon paused to listen. At a single sign of distress, he was prepared to put the crowbar through someone's teeth.
"Finished up with that one a few months ago. Visiting old friends in the city before I get shipped out to Sydney for this new project called Metalstorm. Sounds cool right?"
"Definitely." Grace sounded bored. The second crate popped open easier than the first with far less splinters. Wilford was definitely the type to still get his wares delivered in crates.
"What a funny coincidence we're both here tonight? Say, why don't I get you a drink, Ry? Be like old times. See where the night takes us."
This guy was going to die. He couldn't even stop listening. His hearing had been permanently affected since he and Ellie reunited for better or for worse. There was no more turning off the enhancement.
The third crate cracked open like a gunshot. Or a broken bone. Something loud and violent. The exact thing Simon refused to be. He hooked the crowbar over his shoulder and took deep breaths. Grace was a grown man who could handle himself.
He hated that the man, whoever he was, felt entitled to refer to him so casually. Grace had told him before that he hated being called any variant of his first name. "Look, Tom. We were a long time ago. I'm pretty comfortable where I am, and besides, even if none of that was true, I came here with someone."
"What kind of awful man would leave such a beautiful thing alone?" Tom. Awful name, Simon decided. He remembered reading it once in an old book. Something about a Great Gasp or something. He hated the Tom guy in that book too. Maybe it was the name.
All the crates were open and his job was done. If he had to listen to this poor pickup attempt any longer, he may hurt someone, and that was the last thing he wanted. Grace had his mouth open to respond as the door opened and Simon stepped out.
"Hey, Si. You get those crates open for Wil?" Grace asked, completely turning towards him. There was a man on his right with longer blonde hair, a neon suit, and dark sunglasses. What kind of douchebag wore blackout sunglasses in a dimly lit bar?
Simon took a few steps forward, leaning on the bar. "Yeah. It was easy. Wil probably was just tired when he tried. Who's your friend?"
A flash of disgust appeared on Grace's face. It was gone just as fast as it came. Without turning, he gestured to the man at his side and told him, "This is Tom Ryder. He's an old... friend."
"Colt introduced us and we hit it off very quickly. I'm an actor." He had to mean Grace's brother. That was the first time someone who wasn't Grace had mentioned Colt. There was a smug look on Tom Ryber's face. It was as if he thought throwing around his name and profession enough would get Grace to leave with him.
Judging based off the pissed look on Grace's face, that wasn't happening any time soon.
"An actor? Like supporting? Never heard of you." Truthfully, the name sounded vaguely familiar. The lie was worth seeing the anger that twisted Tom's face.
He sputtered for a moment, unable to come up with anything to say. Grace decided to chime in. "Not everyone can be as well known around here as you, Simon. I mean, especially with all the crazy stunts you do. Tom, I should show you some time."
There was clearly a reason for the specific insult. It didn't mean anything to Simon, but Tom looked rather hurt and conflicted. "Why don't you head back to your private room? I would hate for the news to be reporting on Hollywood star Tom Ryder getting beat in the middle of a bar tomorrow."
He looked at Grace in shock. Gritting his teeth, Tom forced a small smile. "Just do me a favor, next time you talk to Colt, tell him I need my double back."
The man walked away immediately after, leaving no time for Grace to question the odd statement. Once he was gone, the pair turned to each other and broke into loud laughter. "I was not expecting the crowbar," Grace giggled, tapping the metal hooked on Simon's shoulder.
He had actually forgotten that it was there. No wonder the man had looked so scared when he walked out. Simon laughed louder as he set the metal by the door. "Who even was that guy?" He asked, trying and failing to stop laughing.
"Tom Ryder. My brother Colt is his stunt double for movies. I met him years back when Colt and I were still talking. We went on a few dates, but he was way too full of himself," Grace told him, fighting his giggles as he tried to sip his drink. "You could build a house out of his ego."
"Seems like it. I was tempted to deck him," Simon admitted, grabbing a glass from behind the bar and filling it with ice and water.
"Me too," Grace admitted quietly, still shaking with laughter. "It's been years since I saw him. What a coincidence."
"So, shall we continue?" A smile stretched across Simon's face as he failed to stay serious. He could still see Tom in a corner of the room sulking.
Grace smiled like the sun, bright and impossible not to notice. "I would like nothing more," he responded, lifting his drink in a mock toast.
The bar only got more crowded throughout the night, but it hardly mattered. Simon was able to drown it all out and focus on Grace. As promised, Wilford didn't drag him away to do anything else.
The shaky hands were worrying, but Simon would worry some other time. Right now, he had a beautiful man in front of him who was currently telling him about stupid things his kids had said or asked recently.