Chapter Text
Another crash as a mug shattered against the floor of the apartment. Gracelooked mournfully down at it.
I really liked that one.
Across from him, Colt Seavers stood, chest heaving as he leaned heavily with his back brace stabilizing him. Grace watched his twin shake against the cabinets he leaned on.
Grace sucked in his lip between his teeth. “Do you want to go sit down?” He asked softly, words quiet and even as they always were. Colt had pushed everyone away- everyone but Grace (not for lack of trying) and Grace would be disappointed in himself if he let Colt make him leave too.
“Do I want to go sit down?” Colt hissed between clenched teeth. “Why do I look like I’m about to shatter? Do I look broken to you?”
Grace bit the inside of his cheek to stop him from responding the way he knew he couldn’t. His brother would kill him if he said yes to that. Colt Seavers wouldn’t accept help even when it was handed to him with love and kindness.
“You just look like you’re in pain.” Grace responded patiently, trying to take the argument in stride. “And I just don’t want you to feel like you have to keep standing if it would be more comfortable to sit.”
Colt laughed at him bitterly and Grace tried not to flinch at the alien sound. It hurt, it hurt real bad to hear his brother choking out the sharp laughs Grace knew he didn’t mean.
Ever since the accident, ever since Colt had fallen and the cables had whirred, ever since Grace had gotten the call and rushed to the hospital, things had changed. Changed within Colt.
Something in him had seemed to snap. He believed no one cared about him anymore, as if being brave and unbreakable was everything anyone ever loved him for.
Jody had stuck around for a while at first. She tried to stay resistant to Colt’s constant criticisms, constant attempts to get rid of her. She had been persistent, and managed to stay despite him. Until he started getting a little too targeted. Called their three year long relationship a “fling”. Told her she had always been a stepping stone for him.
Jody had actually tried to apologize to Grace for walking out after that.
“I just can’t deal with someone who shuts me down like that.” She had apologized with desperate tears in her eyes. “I can’t let his life dictate mine. Not in this way. Not when it hurts me.”
Grace had just hugged her on her way out. “I get it,” he replied. “He’s not…he’s not Colt right now. Not really. Colt is in there somewhere, the Colt that loves you, but…he still needs to find himself. He will. Eventually.”
She had stepped back from their embrace, wiping her eyes that had run with mascara, and looking up at him all teary and frantic. “Don’t let him hurt you too, Ryland.” She muttered, squeezing his hand. “You’re still my family too.”
“He’s my brother.” Grace had responded without thinking. “He’d never hurt me.”
He almost had, when he broke Grace’s favorite vase- the one he made in college with whale sharks on the side when they had been his favorite animal, screaming about how it was Grace’s fault he wasn’t improving faster.
He almost had, when he smacked Grace across the face just for bringing up the fact that Jody and Dan were still asking about him- wanted to know if he needed or wanted anything. Grace’s face had stung for days after.
He almost had, when he tried to climb the stairs by himself without telling Grace, and had his sock caught on the carpet fibers, slipped, and had to be rushed back to the hospital.
Grace remembered that night most clearly of all.
Coming to his twin’s hospital bedside late at night after going to the cafe to get a bagel for dinner, and seeing a person in the corner of the room. A shadow that just looked up. Grace had dropped his bagel with the speed he threw himself into the shadow’s arms. His big brother had wrapped around him within a second.
“I thought you had dangerous CIA work.” Grace had sobbed into his brother’s shoulder.
“Not as important as this.” Courtland had responded in an instant. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be here the first time he was admitted to the hospital. I didn’t know. If I’d known-“
“Thank you for being here now.” Grace responded.
When he woke up the next morning, Courtland was gone and a fresh bagel was on the window sill. Grace didn’t see him again after that.
Drawn back to the present, Grace glanced at the shattered mug beneath his feet and pushed his lips into a tight line, trying to fight back the feeling of anger in his chest. He wasn’t unfamiliar with it. It was the reason why he had exploded at the conference and lost his position in a lab, in academics. Why he was now surviving off of quick jobs he managed to find, and articles and resources he managed to publish.
But he’d never wanted to get angry with Colt. Especially since it would help no one.
“Why don’t you uh…go sit down while I take a moment and clean this up?” Grace offered calmly, trying to stay as patient as possible. He could deal with a broken mug. He could deal with a broken mug.
Colt just continued to stare at him.
“Think I can’t help?” His brother snapped, brow furrowing. Grace pushed back the instinct to sigh. His brother took every little thing as a challenge nowadays. As if he were an obstacle.
“No, of course not. You could definitely help.” Grace began slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal. “I just think it might be more comfortable and beneficial to you if you go sit down.”
“Well you’re wrong.” Colt folded his arms over his chest and glared, still leaning heavily against the cabinets. “Sitting down feels like a prison sentence to me nowadays, you see? I’ve done so much of it, I’m nothing more than a useless sack. So maybe before you go ahead and assume things-“
“I’m trying to do it for you!” Grace exploded in a rush, finally reaching his tipping point.
His words escaped louder than he meant, in a desperate yell. It just left him in a rush, after being pent up. Grace winced. He hated the way he exploded after building it up.
He took a steadying breath, then continued. “I’m trying,” he began. “To help you. In the only way I know how- in the only way I was provided! The doctors didn’t outline your entire life, they didn’t tell me whether picking up a shattered mug is too much or too little or if you should even be standing right now, having this discussion and-“
“And what about me?” Colt snapped. “Do you not trust me to tell you how I feel?”
And Grace, of course, had to go and make it so much worse.
“NO!” He cried, frantic, desperate, hands tugging on his hair. “NO! You know why? Because you want to speed up your recovery, you want to get better just as fast as possible because you’re a stunt man. And I know, if you think there’s a chance of getting me to back off, you’ll lie. You’ll say it doesn’t hurt. That you’re fine or something like that. I’m trying to be your caretaker here-,”
“And who asked you to do that?”
Grace stopped immediately. He stared at Colt, the words sinking hard into his gut. His brother’s expression was murderous.
Colt always knew how to hit harder than Grace anyway.
“Who asked you to play caretaker? I didn’t. I know Jody didn’t. When we were younger, Courtland sure as hell didn’t.” Grace winced. Their family history was a soft spot, a spot they didn’t go often. Apparently, Colt wasn’t following that pattern this time.
“I don’t want you here.” Colt muttered, pressing his finger into Grace’s chest, accusatory. “I never asked you to be here. You’re just my younger brother, who thinks he knows everything and really knows nothing. Why don’t you take care of someone else when you can actually manage to get out of the bathtub on your own?”
Silence.
If Grace had looked into Colt’s eyes just then, he later wondered what he would’ve seen.
Realization that he had crossed a line? Shame for what he’d done? Or would it not have sunk in yet? The truth, the sheer weight of his words?
Colt had never hurt Grace. Not really.
Not until he said those words.
Because it brought back the night, their father, drunk and angry, pushing Ryland’s head harder and harder into the bathtub, deeper and deeper in the water that stung little Ryland’s eyes and made him want to sob-gasp for air-
Eight years old. Eight years old and he’d almost drowned.
It took a long few minutes before Colt drew in a shaky breath, realization finally rushing to his head. “Ry…” he said, in such a soft voice it made Grace want to scream. “I’m…I’m so…”
“Save it.” Grace murmured. “Save it for Jody. Or Dan. Or somebody you actually did wrong by.” Grace wiped his eyes. Huh, tears had formed there. Odd. “Because you’re right. I had no right to become your caretaker. Not me.”
Grace grabbed his bag and water bottle and walked carefully to the door, shaking with every step. He didn’t turn back to look at Colt. He couldn’t.
“I hope you feel better soon.” Grace offered stiffly. His voice didn’t sound real, even to him. And then he was out, gone, into the crisp night air, closing the door behind him.
Ryland Grace wasn’t someone who enjoyed walking alone much. But he’d do it. Like right now, for example, he’d do it.
The city lights shone distantly over thin paved streets, wet with fresh rain. Stars were hidden behind the clouds in the sky. It was a perfect October night, if you liked fog and rain.
Grace did.
He wasn’t sure where he was going- Colt had technically taken up his place so he didn’t have an end goal. He just started walking the streets, looking for an out.
Note to self though, that may have not been the best idea, when he saw the shadow approaching him.
Grace felt the cool metal barrel of the gun meet the back of his head and went stiff before he could even hear the footsteps. A sleazy voice murmured in his ear, trickling down like some kind of slime.
“You gon’ give me everythin’ you got.”
Grace took a deep nervous breath in. He’d never been mugged before. He’d also never stormed out on his twin before. He was doing all sorts of new things today!
“Okay…I do have my wallet with me, but can I warn you, it’s not much? Like, I think I have a few fives… some ones… maybe a ten or two? I’m not a rich guy.”
The man pressed the gun a little harder to his head and Grace bit his lip. Nervous habit, he knew it was bad, but he couldn’t help it.
“As long as it’s everythin’.” The man chuckled, his breaths wheezing slightly in and out of his lungs. “Don’ need ya to be rich, just need ya to be agreeable.”
Grace felt tears prick his eyes as the man wheezed out another laugh. Today really just wasn’t his day. Slowly, he began to reach around himself for his wallet, keeping his hand well in sight of his captor the entire time.
He wished he’d paid more attention to some of those stunts Colt did. He bet those would come in handy.
Just as his fingers began to grip the edge of his wallet, he heard his sleazy captor let out a gasp and the pressure disappeared at his head. He turned around to see the man who had held him at gunpoint now held at knifepoint by another man.
This one looked younger and had long hair falling around his face in waves, tied up beneath a headband. He had a prosthetic arm that looked well and custom made, and fairly nice clothes.
He was really, really handsome.
“Hey there brother,” the new man said in a deep baritone voice. “Let’s not go around killing nice civilians for their money, yeah? Either head out into the workforce with a plan, join the army and serve your country, or pick on people both unkind and worth your time. Got it?”
The sleazy man nodded nervously and quickly, and the newcomer immediately dropped his knife, dark eyes glinting with something like amusement.
“Awesome. Now go.”
Grace’s former mugger skittered off, melting back into the shadows. The newcomer however, turned his attention to Grace. Grace shook nervously as the man smiled at him.
“Do you want my money too?” Grace asked immediately, fingers gripping around his wallet again. Better penniless than dead.
The man tilted his head slightly before blinking and just seemingly realizing the question. “Do I want your- gosh, no. No, I just wanted to know if you’re all right?”
“All right?” Grace repeated, hating how much his voice trembled.
“Yeah. Damn muggers go for a lot of people in these parts. I’m sorry that guy got to you. He’s an asshole.”
Grace surprised even himself by chuckling softly. The man looked pleasantly surprised, grinning brightly.
“You sound like you deal with their kind a lot,” Grace admitted, scratching the back of his neck. The other man shrugged slightly, lifting his shoulders in a confused posture.
“You have too.” He admitted. He stuck out a hand to shake. “I’m Simon. Simon Fisher.”
Grace took it. “I’m Ryland Grace, but everyone calls me Grace.” He said, shaking Simon’s hand firmly.
Simon nodded, his dark eyes still sparkling mischievously in the alleyway. “Well, Grace, do you have a place to go for the night? My home has more than enough room, and I wouldn’t want you to encounter another mugger.”
Grace hesitated for a long moment, picking at his fingernails as he thought. Colt wouldn’t want him back. But following strangers around in the dark at 11pm seemed…irresponsibly dangerous and risky.
Simon must’ve caught the hesitance on his face because he spread his hands wide like he was pleading innocence.
“I’m not trying to get at anything here. I don’t want money- I have enough, trust me. I don’t want anything crazy. You just seem really quite nice, and a little lost, and I want to help. You say no at any time, I walk you right back or let you walk by yourself if you prefer. There are no strings. I’d even sign a waiver.”
“There’s always strings.” Grace laughed quietly. “There’s always something.”
“Not with me.” Simon said. And the clarity, the sheer confidence in his voice, stirred something within Grace. He actually believed it.
He actually trusted and believed that there were no strings attached to this random stranger. Because Simon Fisher seemed so…kind. And truthful. And good.
“I go home,” Grace repeated. “Any time I want?”
“Say the word.”
“You’re not going to like…take my phone?”
“Why would I?”
“Kidnap me?”
“Pretty sure I’d start crying then immediately set you free. I’m not a rock- solid person. I cry at The Notebook once a month and toast my marshmallows till they're only very golden brown, yet if they fall in the fire I’ll eat them anyway cause I feel bad. I still sleep with a plush dog because I’m semi allergic to real dogs but I want one so bad. So no, I won’t be kidnapping you.”
Grace froze for only a moment upon hearing that, then immediately began to smile. Yeah, this was a man he could trust.
“Alright.” Grace said, outstretching his arm. Simon took it, looping it carefully. “But only one night.”
“Only one night.” Simon agreed. “Or whenever you choose to go. You always can. Always.”
“Thank you, Mr. Fisher.” Grace said, as they set down the paths. It began to mist again, the fog of rain very softly settling over them as though it was a cool mist blanket.
Grace smiled up at the sky. And Simon chuckled briefly at his expression before continuing to pull him forwards. Maybe, there was a chance, the smallest chance that this wasn’t such a bad day after all.