Work Text:
it’d been so long since you last felt like this. the fuzzy feeling climbing up from your toes after a long day of work, dragging you down to meet it.
you’d forgotten how much you hated it.
it hadn’t even been a particularly hard day. none of your tasks for the day were terribly taxing, just normal work you had to do aboard the hail mary with ryland and rocky. nothing was different. and yet, here it was, eating at you.
you sat at your laptop, still clicking away at the keys as you made any attempt to distract yourself from the feeling in your body. you didn’t want to deal with this right now. what would you even do? go ask grace? rocky? tell them you’re turning into a big old baby and say “googoo gaga” at them? no, that’s pathetic. you’d made it into space, for christ’s sake. not just space but lightyears away from earth. lightyears! so why were you regressing now?
you groan, shutting your laptop with a slightly harder than normal smack and shoving it off to the side. you begin pacing, trying to ground yourself to avoid your vulnerable state. you hated it so, so, so much. hate wasn’t harsh enough, you loathed it. detested it. regression was stupid, i mean, really? how could mentally turning into a baby calm someone down? whatever.
you turn to grab some coffee, maybe that’d bring you down. yet, you don’t realize you’re stomping when you pass by grace.
“woah, hey, what’s up?” he swivels in his chair, being able to tell something was wrong from the way you slammed your feet into the metal floor.
“nothing, gracie,” you scoff, trying to brush him off. again, tell the only other human and your closest friend that you’re turning into a baby? no.
“gracie?” he chuckles as he echoes you. you stop. “you don’t call me that, what’s the matter? come on.” he’s persistent, that’s for sure.
“i— shut up, it’s not a big deal. my— my laptop just… isn’t working.” you lie quickly. it’s not smooth, it’s… a little pathetic, how bad it is, actually.
“uh… huh…” ryland nods, clearly not believing you. “if you bring it here, i can try and see.”
“no,” you deny. “i’m getting coffee and then trying again.”
“whatever you say,” he turns back to his work.
a while later, you once again pass him by. a waft of coffee follows you, the cup in your hand.
“seriously, should i be worried?” his concern sounds closer to genuine rather than teasing this time. he’s turned around to watch you again.
“no, grace.”
“…okay. come find me if anything changes, mkay? i’m here if you need me.” he’s looking at you over his glasses, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. maybe concern was a better descriptor.
you plop down in your seat, grab your laptop, and get back to work. or try to.
. . .
it’s been around an hour and a half and you can’t get anything done. your brain is catching up, forcing you smaller and smaller until the calculations in front of you look like something written in russian. it’s like they’re another language.
you whine, feeling tears beginning to seep into your eyes. how obnoxious.
you grovel with the only options in your head. tell grace and hope he doesn’t view you any differently, or sit there in your sorrow and just make it worse. the former only made sense.
so, once again shutting your laptop, discarding your now gross-tasting coffee, and shuffling back towards ryland’s spot in the lab, you begin to fidget.
when you’d initially stood, you felt more confident. but, as you got closer, you just felt stupider and stupider. anxiety filled your body.
you rubbed your eyes as you now stood a few feet away from him, sniffling.
he finished what he was looking at, then turned to you. his face, initially, was flat— what he’d been working on wasn’t particularly interesting. when he realized you were crying, though, his face fell to concern.
“oh, hey, what’s going on?” he tilts his head down again, he’s looking at you over his glasses again like a concerned teacher.
“mmhgh,” you grumble. “promise… you won’t laugh?”
“no, no, of course not.” he shakes his head. “what’s bothering you, hun?” the petname was new. it didn’t help your current predicament.
“i— uhm,,” you blink, looking down at your hands as they fidget in front of your stomach. “i— i don’t… know why, but i- i think,” oh just spit it out, “i’m regressing,” the word feels gross leaving your mouth, like you’d just eaten dirt.
“oh,” he nods, then pushes his glasses back up his nose. “like, age regressing?”
you nod hesitantly.
“why are you embarrassed?” he chuckles. “i don’t mind.”
your head snaps back up to him, your head feel lighter.
“what do you need, sweet thing?” ryland leans forward, towards you.
you reach your hands out to him, a little ashamed at the grabby hands that follow.
grace chuckles again, standing up to meet you. “c’mere, bug.” his hands find their way into your armpits, ready to lift you into him. you give a little hop to help, your arms wrapping around his neck and legs wrapping around his torso. his hands hold you gently under your butt. “i’m sure we both need to get some rest anyway, huh?” he hums as he begins to walk to your beds. your face finds a place under his chin.
he’s silent the rest of the walk. he plops himself down on his mattress, still holding you close. he runs a hand down your back, feeling each ridge of your spine as you push into him further. grace slowly lays down onto his back, holding you and using you as a sort of a weighted blanket.
you’re surprised rocky’s not there to bug the both of you.
“listen, starlight,” ryland begins. “i don’t want you to feel like you have to hide anytime this happens, alright? i don’t mind having to care for you. we’re in space, and that’s… pretty overwhelming. i don’t blame you, okay? it could happen a million times a day, trillion times a week, and i would still be here for you. i don’t want you to feel alone.” as he talks, you find yourself relaxing into your spot on his chest. your body evens out, untensing as you calm down a little. “you understand?” a hand comes up to meet your hair, petting against your scalp calmingly.
you nod against his chest.
“mh, good.” he sighs gently. “anything else you need? i can help you change for bed. would that be nice? some dinner, maybe? how’s that sound, bug?”