Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

There was something about living on a boat in the middle of the ocean. The isolating feeling, knowing that if the Astrophage were to act up, nobody would know until the remains of the ship were found washing up onto shore.

Ryland was already a shy person. Not lonely, no. He had his kids, his friends in the school faculty, his waitresses and waiters at the restaurant he frequented. He had his science team aboard Stratt's Vat. He wasn't lonely. He did feel alone, though.

He tried to do team bonding stuff like karaoke and have a few drinks, but conversation flowed whether or not he was there. In his mind, that meant he wasn't needed. It meant he could slip out the side door of the recreation room and no one would be wiser.

Everyone was nice even though they should've been angry. Should've been upset that the world was going to freeze over within thirty years. Instead, they kept a good morale and partied as hard as they worked. It was a good balance.

It was one of those nights: karaoke, drinks, flushed cheeks and loose tongues. Some people sneaking off thinking they're not going to be the talk of the ship the next morning. Nobody cared. There was a beauty in that.

Ryland nursed a beer, half empty, watching Ilyukhina sing a song he couldn't remember the name of. A group of engineers in front of her cheered her on, and her voice rang out loud in the room. But no one paid any mind, too occupied in their own worlds, their own little paradise, to really pay attention.

He understood, and it hurt. He wished he had the courage to walk up and be friends, to sling his arm around someone's shoulder and sing together. To make meaningful connections.

But his heart belonged in the classroom. And he was of hundreds of miles away.

Ryland met Ilyukhina's eye. She was sparkling, nodding at him and continuing to sing. She could hold her liquor insanely well, but she still staggered.

He snickered, taking another sip of beer and scanning the room again. Stratt was nowhere to be seen. Yao was talking to a group of older gentleman, DuBois and Shapiro were in the corner whispering in each other's ears, and Ryland was sitting at the bar staring a little too long like a creep.

He downed the rest of his drink, thanking the bartender (Frank, if he remembered right), and heading out without a destination in mind. The room had felt a bit stuffy, condensed, like he couldn't take a proper breath knowing that these people were going to die.

Going on a mission they were never to return from. They were heroes, truly. Ryland didn't know how they did it, how they found it in themselves to just give up their lives at the drop of a hat. He admired their bravery and courage, but as much as he mulled the situation over, he couldn't find it in himself to share the same sentiment.

He loved Earth too much. He had so much here for him. As childish as it sounded, he didn't want to leave.

He shook his head as he emerged onto the lower deck, near the rear propeller. He didn't have to worry about that since he wasn't Yao, Ilyukhina, or DuBois. He was just the lead researcher in Astrophage. Totally not all that important.

Ryland took a deep breath of crispy, salty air before sitting criss-cross before the ledge. He watched the water churn, the sky start to turn from light blue to beautiful pastel yellow and pink. He ran his hand over his hair. He pushed his glasses up his nose.

"Man, I'm tired," he said to no one in particular, accompanied by a sigh. "Astrophage is tough… so's the mission."

He gazed out on the horizon. They were usually somewhere on the Pacific, far enough from Asia and the West coast of North America that any potential explosions weren't endangering any human life. Except, since Ryland was already thinking about it, what about the fish?

"If an explosion occurred that could vaporize California, who's to say the environmental impacts of the sea?" He pondered aloud. He picked at a loose thread on his pants. "Fishing boats would probably only catch guts and bits of meat in their nets. And the heat from the explosion would do significant damage to the ecosystem under water…"

He sighed again. He felt like he'd been doing nothing but sighing lately. Lots to sigh about.

"Why's it gotta be so complicated?" He asked the sky. The wispy clouds above. His posture slumped as he focused on his shoes. His beat up Converse. He really did need a new pair, but he didn't feel like asking. It felt wrong somehow, knowing that every government in the world had a hand in the project. They could get anything from anywhere within a day.

It was scary, especially growing up with a world that was so divided and full of hate.

He did not sigh again, and instead looked around the little alcove he found. He was surprised no one else was out at that time. We'll, if they were, they got a better view from the main deck. But down there, the view was just as pretty with the water reflecting the colors of the sky. He liked the roar of the water. It helped drown out all the things he didn't want to think about, sometimes better than liquor could.

Ryland's eyes raked over the wall, over the little walkway leading to a ledge with a chain railing. He got to his feet and walked over, careful of the slippery surface. He leaned over the chain railing, loving the feeling of miniscule droplets of water dusting his skin.

It was cold, but not unbearably so. He was fine in his jeans, t-shirt, and cardigan, though he pulled the garment closer to his body when a strong bout of wind blew past. He stared at the colors in the sky reflecting on the water, feeling not particularly happy or sad either. An odd in-between that's been plaguing him for weeks, now.

He missed his classroom. He wondered if his kids were doing okay. He gave his… temporary replacement instructions, including which kids needed help with certain topics. He could only hope they took his instructions at face value.

He missed his apartment, the comfort it brought him. The bunks on the ship weren't bad, but the downside to living on a boat was that you were never alone. It also sucked because he was considered important personnel, which meant he always had some sort of guard following him around. Why, he didn't know, since they were on a boat in the middle of the ocean. But who was he to question the most powerful woman in the world and her odd requests.

Luckily, once alcohol and partying was involved, he could slip away pretty easily.

"Just need to make it to launch. Then I can go back to my classroom," he muttered to himself. He fiddled with his lanyard. It had his ID on it for the science personnel. They didn't bother getting another picture of him; they just took his photo used for his middle school ID. He took it off his neck and ran his fingers along the white lettering.

Petrova Task Force.

"It'll be fine. No sun is gonna die. We'll figure it out." He ran his thumb along his picture, aching to be anywhere but the boat. He frowned at the thought. "But I'm saving them. I'm helping by being hundreds of miles away—"

His heart leapt to his throat when a strong gust of wind blew by, taking his lanyard right out of his hand and tossing it into the water. He couldn't do anything but watch, mouth agape at the audacity of nature when he was trying his hardest to save it. He watched it flutter and land a good distance away, too far to try and swim and grab it.

He slumped over the chain railing with a long-suffering moan. "Ugh, why? Why? I just said I'm trying to help you…"

He watched his lanyard disappear in a sea of blue. He followed it as it fluttered, wondering what Stratt was going to say when he inevitably went back on deck without his ID. Probably something like "the ocean took your ID, Dr. Grace? How… interesting."

Ryland grumbled, his mood ruined even further. "Dang it. Another humiliation ritual awaits me tomorrow… thanks, ocean."

It didn't respond. At least not the way he wanted it to. It continued to roar, passing by, unaffected by one human's miserable day. Ryland decided the sunset was pretty enough, and that the chilly air would get him sick, and retreated to his bunk for the night.

As he lay curled in bed a few hours later, he wondered whether or not he was doing the right thing. Sacrificing one career he loved for the other he chased after for so long. He fell asleep before he could come to a conclusion, dreaming of oceans and lanyards.

The next day was, somehow, even worse, and it started with an alarm. Typical days start with an alarm clock going off, like he expected, but this one vibrated his soul.

He shot out of bed, barely slipping into socks and slip-on shoes before he was running out of his shared room, searching for answers. He ran into DuBois in the hallway, who calmed the mad scientist by saying someone accidentally set the microwave in the break room on fire. The wonders of sleep deprivation's effect on the human body.

Ryland went to breakfast after that scare, ignoring the stench of burnt bread and electricity as he ate.

After that, he holed himself up in his lab for a good six hours doing nothing but studying, theorizing, and pulling his hair out. Carl, bless him, brought snacks near three in the afternoon, sending him a worried glance when Ryland said he'd keep at it for a few more hours. Carl came back three hours later to drag him to dinner before the research could consume him further.

Carl was always good company. He was stoic at times, but he provided great commentary on their coworkers and their drama Ryland didn't know about. He always looked forward to seeing Carl, even if it was every other day or so. He was surprised Stratt didn't assign him to his personal guard, since he and Carl got along so well.

Anyway, he and Carl laughed and talked for about an hour at dinner before Carl was called away to continue his job. Ryland waved and offered a meek smile, wishing his friend got to stay a bit longer to catch up. Carl smiled, too, nodding as he shrugged his long black coat back over his shoulders. Ryland watched him go, wondering when he would see his friend next.

"Hey, Dr. Grace! We're heading to the bar, if you wanna come!" a bright-eyed scientist said as she bounded up to his empty table. He felt horrible because he knew her face but could not, for the life of him, recall her name.

He swallowed his sip of coffee quickly. "Oh, um, thank you for the invite, but I'm good. Got some work to finish up."

Ilyukhina appeared beside the woman, giving him a knowing look. "Come, relax, Dr. Grace. You deserve good drinks and company that is not a microscope."

"I-I'm good, really. Drinking gives me headaches. But you guys have fun, okay?" Ryland said quickly before gathering his tray and escaping. He didn't see the sad look the women shared behind his back.

Once again, he allowed his body to wander without a specific destination in mind. He was stuck in his head—full of equations, Astrophage, and what-ifs—that he didn't realize where his feet brought him until he was leaning over a flimsy chain railing. He looked up. There was the ocean, bright and loud, reflecting the sun's golden rays. The sky tonight was a mix of rosy pinks and royal purple with slivers of sunflower yellow peeking through.

A beautiful sight that had his shoulders relaxing, allowing him to place his weight onto the railing. It definitely wasn't his best idea after feeling how loose the support poles were, but he didn't care at the moment. He wasn't lying when he said that drinking gave him a headache, but so did the research. He had to keep going. There was no other option. If he didn't, the world was gone. Frozen and dead. But at the same time, spending so long in the lab, looking at the same things over and over while wishing for something to stick out and be different, that he was getting a headache regardless.

All he could remember over the last few days was being hunched over the microscope, typing a report on his laptop, or spinning in his chair and looking at the ceiling for an answer that wasn't there.

He watched the white suds on top of the water move around as the propeller worked. He sighed, moving to sit down and dangle his socked feet in the water as the boat moved along. He didn't care that the cuffs of his jeans got wet, though he definitely should've taken off his socks. He hated wet socks like any other human.

When he put his feet in the water, though, he hit something. Something that moved.

He quickly retracted his feet, heart in his throat. He wasn't close to the propeller at all. It couldn't have been that, and if it had been, it would've dragged him under. Ryland stared at the water for any sign of motion. Nothing. Just the water being pushed around. He slowly started putting his feet back down, and then—

Splash!

Ryland shrieked, because in front of him was a man. What looked like a man, except the left side of his face was scarred and had teeth. His hair was dark, long and black, and his right eye was a deep brown while the other was red. The more Ryland stared, the more the man didn't make sense. Not biologically, not normally.

The hands—hand, just one—that grasped the metal support beams had long, sturdy fingers with sharp tips for nails. His arm had little sharp things that almost looked like teeth poking out, except they could move. They flared with the man's sharp glare, making a soft chime when they clinked together. Ryland quickly scanned the rest of the man, finding that the man didn't obey the laws of the natural world he knew at all.

He had webbed ears, for one, like flippers. His skin was tan, slightly scarred, and his chest was covered in the same teeth as his face. They were pointed inward towards his sternum. He had gills near where his ribs would be. Where the man's left arm would've been there was a stump, but again, there were sharp points. Lower, the man's body turned into—

A tail. He had a tail. Where a normal person's hips would've been, he had more teeth-like things poking out, but they were joined together; pectoral fins. Where his thighs and… lower bits would've been, there were more spikes, once again pointing inward. Like they were trying to protect, or keep organs in. His tail was a deep gray, almost black, that shimmered with the droplets of water running down and back into the ocean.

Ryland met the man's eye again, trying to remember how many hours of sleep he'd gotten the night before and if he took anything from one of the known stoners of the crew.

But the man—fish?—kept glaring, the teeth on the side of his mouth moving, opening to show expanding skin and the inside of the man's mouth. Until, for a moment, Ryland saw the man's eyes flash with something. It looked like recognition for a second, but who the hell was Ryland kidding, he was looking at a… a merman! He couldn't read a merman's body language!

Ryland scrambled backwards until his back hit the wall of the ship, which was only about a foot of distance. The merman was big, probably twice the muscle mass as Ryland. Made sense because he had a tail which was massive in itself.

Wait. He hit the merman. That's why he was glaring.

"I-I'm sorry! I-I didn't know you were there I'm really—" he rambled.

The merman cut him off with a loud hiss, baring his teeth and getting close, just a few inches from Ryland's face. The sound was high pitched, enough to have Ryland's hands scrambling to cover his ears. The merman hissed for a moment longer before diving back into the water, making sure to splash a hefty amount of water up on the deck and, consequently, onto Ryland.

The water settled. The wind continued to blow. The sun dipped under the horizon, taking all of its warmth with it and leaving Ryland a shivering, stuttering mess.

A merman.

He met a merman.

He had to have been going crazy, had to be dreaming or something. On drugs. He did eat a brownie courtesy of the ship's baker. Maybe the baker had some fun in his free time and decided the ship could use a little Mary Jane.

Ryland staggered to his feet, his knees shaky as he looked down at the water. Just white suds and moving water, nothing else. Besides, it was getting dark. He wouldn't be able to tell if it was just the water or a lost fish. Or a merman.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I didn't mean…"

He shook his head, rushing back up to the bunk. He ran past confused and drunk people who didn't pay him any mind. He quickly showered and went right to bed.

As he tossed and turned, his mind constantly thinking of dorsal fins and teeth, he couldn't help but be enraptured with the image of the merman. How was it that a creature like him existed? Especially in a world where fantasy was… exactly that. Fantasy. By all accounts, the merman shouldn't exist.

And yet… Ryland saw him, heard his hissing, felt droplets of saliva hit his skin with the intensity of the hiss. He felt the water the merman kicked up.

The headache slowly ebbed away, leading to a surprisingly blissful night's sleep.

Ryland went back the next day.

He didn't know much about fish, but he knew enough about ecosystems to know that fish had to eat each other to survive. Maybe he could bring a peace offering to the merman, if he was still there. Ryland returned to the railing with a box of fish he stole from the kitchen and a notepad and pen. He sat down where he did the night before, making sure his feet stayed under him in a criss-cross position.

He glanced at the railing to his left. His eyes widened a fraction seeing a scuff mark. A thin line, about an inch in length, protruding against the otherwise smooth metal. Ryland traced his finger over it.

So I'm not crazy…

"Um… I don't know if you're still here or not, but um, I brought a peace offering. I uh—" he gestured to the box of fish beside him "—dunno if you like fish. You probably do, right? If you live in the ocean."

Nothing happened. The sun was nearing it's peak, the air was cool and the warmth from the star's rays combated the chill nicely. He watched the water intently, like a hawk, looking for any sign of the merman. He kept watching, forgetting anything and everything that sat behind him. No Astrophage, no microscopes, no labs. Just him and the open water and the hope that he could make things right with a creature that shouldn't exist.

Ryland sighed after ten minutes of nothing but sloshing water against the base of the ship. "Yeah, I'd vacate if I got hit by some random guy, too. Don't blame you."

He grabbed one of the fish from the box. He hated the slimy texture between his fingers, but he looked at the water for a moment before an idea appeared. He dropped the fish into the water. It disappeared between the chaos of tiny waves made by the propeller. Ryland couldn't see where it went or if anyone picked it up.

He tried again. And again. And again, until the box was empty. Part of him said he was an idiot for wasting a box of perfectly good fish on a stupid experiment. The other part of him, an optimist or whatever, said that this was the right call. A first step in communication with a merman, a way to apologize for his troubles.

Ryland stayed by the water for an undisclosed amount of time. He used the notepad to try and do a rough sketch of what the merman looked like. The fins and gills and tail. He was never the best artist, but the image was vivid enough in his mind that he could recreate it decently well. The more he studied his drawings, the more he realized he needed to learn about fish if the merman was real.

He remembered the two different eyes, how the left one was squinting. And red, can't forget that. Heterochromia. Yet another mystery added to the enigma that was the merman.

As Ryland finished drawing the teeth that were on the merman's chest, he heard it. Water moved. But it was different. It wasn't the constant roar of the water by the propeller. It was the sound of someone, or something, emerging from the sea. Ryland stilled, his muscles and joints locking into place at the noise. He risked a glance up from the notepad.

A hand grasped at the railing. Long, meaty fingers with sharp points. Just below the edge, Ryland saw a pair of eyes peering back at him. Assessing. Analyzing, just as he was doing. Water rushed down the merman's inky black hair, in between his eyes and down the fin that was his right ear.

For a moment, Ryland couldn't speak. There, in broad daylight, was the evidence he called himself crazy for a million times over the night before. Staring back at him was the impossible. For the second time in his life, he was making first contact with a foreign species.

"Uh… hi," he said dumbly.

The merman stared back.

Ryland swallowed. "I-I hope you liked the fish. If you had any. I thought it'd be a good apology for yesterday. I really didn't mean to hurt you."

The merman's eyes studied him. After a tense moment, the merman tugged himself to sit on the ledge. Far enough away from Ryland to be comfortable, close enough to the water for a quick escape.

Ryland couldn't help himself. He immediately looked over the visible parts of the man's tail. More fins, more teeth-looking things that made that chiming noise. He hadn't realized he'd gotten so close until the merman hissed again.

Ryland quickly scrambled back until his spine hit the wall. "Sorry! I've just… no one… no one's ever seen anyone like you before. You're a man-fish? Merman?"

The merman glared.

"Uh… okay. Sorry, I'm a scientist. Probably not the best person to run into because I'm so curious, you know? About the nature of the world and what makes it up. I'm a molecular biologist, so I study all of that—" he cut himself off "—not interesting. Sorry. I apologize a lot. I'm gonna try and stop that, I know it gets annoying."

The merman's left eye squinted again. Like only the right eye could see up close. Or maybe the right eye could only see in proper lighting. Who knew how far the merman lived down in the ocean? His body could be built to withstand pressure beyond the average human and Ryland would be none the wiser.

There it was again. The soft sound of a chime. Ryland assessed the merman again to try and see where it was coming from. He found more spikes on the merman's back, all of varying length, though there were four or five in particular that were around twelve to fourteen inches in length, if he had to guess. They gently tapped together. Ryland couldn't tell if it was due to the wind or if they could be controlled. He wrote it down on the notepad beside a new, scribbled sketch.

"So interesting… never seen anything like them. And the sounds they make are like a wind chime," Ryland said, meeting the merman's eye again. The merman just stared. He wasn't glaring, so Ryland took it as a win. "Mysterious. They look like solids but are completely hollow, right? What purpose do they serve? Are they like warning devices to other fish? Can fish even hear? Whales use song to communicate so maybe… So many questions…"

The merman craned his neck, looking down at the notepad. Ryland thought about hiding it for a moment before scrapping that idea because why hide his research when he was actively rambling to the merman about his own biology?

"Oh, here. I uh, I didn't know if I was actually seeing a merman last night so I made some sketches of what I remembered." Ryland turned the pad around to show his sketches. He watched the merman's eyes turn to the pages, raking over each image. "I'm not the best artist in the world but I think I did pretty good for initial sketches, don't you think? This is probably pretty weird for you, huh? Have you ever met any other humans before?"

He half expected the merman to not answer at all. Instead, he got a small nod of the head and more chimes from the spikes on his back.

"No? You've met other—wait! You can understand me!"

The merman nodded with an expression that said duh. Ryland couldn't hold back a smile and disbelieving laugh.

"This is so… wow! I'm sorry, like I said, I've never met anyone like you and I doubt anyone aboard this ship has, either!"

More chiming. Ryland's focus returned to them as they moved. He primarily focused on where the spikes joined to the merman's skin. It was faint below the scarring, but he could see muscle moving around them. So they were manually controlled, then. He jotted down a note. But what purpose did they serve other than possible mobility aids? Even then, they were hollow. How would they help him move if they weren't webbed, like his fins?

The chimes grew more intense. He glanced back up to see the merman glaring slightly. Ryland looked down to see he'd moved again. He scooted backwards with an awkward chuckle.

"Sorry, I—"

The merman bared his teeth, the spikes on his back creating more sounds. Ryland pressed his back against the wall as the merman drew closer, the teeth on his face opening with a huff. Ryland's heart raced in his chest both out of curiosity and fear.

"Please don't eat me," he muttered. Though, the more Ryland listened, the more his brain recognized a pattern. Like musical notes in quick succession. "Wait, are you—" he used his pen to point at the spikes "—making sound to try and talk?"

The merman nodded.

Ryland frowned. "You… do you not have vocal chords?"

The merman's shoulders sagged, rolling his eyes. Ryland took it as the merman calling him dumb. Fair enough. Ryland's specialty was molecular biology, but he'd never seen anything like the merman before and he wanted to know more. Sue him.

"Interesting. I guess we'll have to come up with some sort of translator—"

The merman's glare somehow grew even more angry. The man snatched the notepad and pen from Ryland's hands before he could even blink, and scribbled hastily on the paper. Ryland watched with utter fascination, millions of questions flooding his mind. Where did the merman come from? Why was he tailing the ship? How did he know how to write? How could he understand Ryland when there were dozens of other languages in the world he could've known? How was his hand so big to where the pen looked like a toothpick?

The merman threw the notepad and pen at him before baring his teeth again and slipping back under the water. Ryland grabbed the notepad before the water could splash it, cradling it against his chest. He stared where the merman had just been. Again, there were claw marks on the metal pole, signifying his presence and therefore solidifying it in Ryland's mind that he wasn't high. He watched the water for a moment, finding his shoulders sagging. He didn't get to study as much as he wanted to.

He shook his head. Not cool without consent, he reminded himself. He instead focused on the notepad, bringing it up to his eyes. There were a few wet spots on the paper that he was careful not to touch.

Not friends. Leave me alone.

It was written in utter chicken scratch, but somehow legible. Ryland read it over four times. Each time, he traced the letters as if he were the merman writing them. Memorizing the way the end of the T and the beginning of the F seemed to mesh together. Like he hadn't written something in a while and was trying to remember how to use a pen.

Ryland frowned at the message, though. Yes, they didn't know each other and for good reason. Ryland knew the horrors of poachers, of people extending their maliciousness to creatures who were unsuspecting. He thought he saw a few scars on the merman that looked to be from hooks, or perhaps even spears. Clearly, the merman didn't trust humans at all, and for good reason.

Why was it, then, that Ryland wished to be an exception?

"Not friends… but you're following us for a reason," he muttered to himself. Then, it hit him. "Food. We're an easy food source. If you… eat humans, that is… but we're wasteful, too. Not all of the food on this ship gets eaten but it doesn't get tossed to sea, either."

No merman popped out of the water to nod, but for some reason, he knew it was the answer. The merman was hungry.

Ryland smiled to himself as he hastily got to his feet. "I'll be back! Don't go anywhere!"

He rushed off to the cafeteria, hoping no one questioned why he was carrying another bucket of fish to a secluded part of the ship.

The merman expected him on the fourth day, this time. He was already sitting on the deck. Well, more like sunbathing. He had his upper body on the deck, resting, and his tail flowing with the water. When Ryland approached, the merman looked to be sleeping. His eyes were closed and the spines moved slowly, as if they were breathing. God, how Ryland wished he could get a full body scan of the merman, just to see how his body was made up. Were the spines bone or…?

He made his presence known, putting a bit too much power into his steps. It did the trick in warning the merman that someone was coming, though, as his eyes shot open and the teeth on his jaw opened slightly.

"Hey, big guy! I've got some fish for you," Ryland said chipper as he stopped a few feet away, placing the bucket down slowly. He looked between the unimpressed merman and the fish. "You like fish, right? You weren't just eating it to eat it?"

The merman took a small fish from the top of the bucket, raising it to the open teeth on the side of his face. Ryland watched, utterly amazed to see the teeth bite down. He looked away when the merman glared.

"Sorry," he said. "Looking away. At least you're eating. You're hungry, right? That's why you're following the boat?"

The merman slowly nodded, as if debating internally whether or not he should be talking to a human. Ryland can't blame him. If he were in his shoes—fins?—he wouldn't be so trusting, either. All those movies he'd watched when he was a kid about people making friendships with magical beings only for the adults to ruin it came to mind. He wouldn't let anyone find out about the merman. Not just for his own selfish curiosity, but for the merman's safety. He'd feel horrible if something happened to him just because Ryland couldn't keep his big mouth shut.

"Okay. My name's Ryland Grace, but most people just call me Grace. It's easier. What's your name?"

The merman looked him up and down as he reached for another fish. The spines chimed a beautiful melody.

"Oh, right, translator. Need a translator—"

The merman signaled. He made a writing motion and then tilted his head slightly in question.

"The notepad! Yes, I still have it." Ryland dug through his backpack, producing the paper and pen and handing it to the merman. He then pulled out his laptop, an idea forming. "Since you make sounds with your spines, maybe we can work together to assign them to letters! There's this cool audio program that can listen for any language and translate it into another. Courtesy of the trillions of dollars being poured into the project we're working on."

The merman tapped the pen on the paper to get his attention. He squinted to read the scribble.

Simon

For some reason, Ryland's heart skipped a beat. The excitement of knowledge, the fact that he was the one talking to the merman and getting to know a brand new species. That, and the merman was actually communicating with him, letting him know his name. It was a start. A step in the right direction.

"Simon," Ryland said, the name drawing a smile on his lips. "That's a cool name."

Simon rolled his eyes, hunching over to write more.

What project you working on?

"Oh. Yeah, I guess if you didn't live near any humans you wouldn't know." Ryland pointed at his hat, the one with the mission logo. Simon squinted at it. Ryland took it off and handed it over. "A few years ago, a scientist named Irena Petrova noticed there was a streak of infrared light connecting the sun to Venus, now known as the Petrova line. Samples splashed down a few months ago, and we figured out that they're tiny little alien cells that seem to be eating the sun."

Simon's eyes widened in alarm. Project aim to fix?

"Yeah. A whole bunch of scientists and engineers and such are working on it. I've never seen the world so united before for a common goal," Ryland said. "But if they weren't, half the world would be dead in the next thirty years."

Simon's eyes averted to look at the ocean. The sunset. Orange was the primary color of this one, with wisps of pink here and there near the clouds. Ryland took a second to watch, too. The sun's beauty. He couldn't imagine a world without it. Hell, he still struggled to come to terms with the fact that it was dying. It didn't look like it. It still looked beautiful in all it's glory. Simon wrote again.

You said you're a scientist.

Ryland perked up. He'd been listening. Of course he had. There was nothing to listen to other than the wind, the ocean, and Ryland's big mouth spewing whatever he could with the speed of a nervous cheetah.

"Yeah. I'm actually the lead scientist on Astrophage right now. Astrophage is the name for the cells. Means star-eater. I thought it was fitting."

Simon nodded slowly. He kept writing. How will you make a translator? Can't write forever.

"Right, like I was saying, I've got this cool program on my computer that can be tweaked to any language. We'll have to make our own for your noises, but it shouldn't be too hard. All we have to do is assign a letter to each spine and record the sound each one makes and—" he imitated an explosion much to Simon's annoyance "—we have a translator."

He watched Simon eat another fish. He pushed down the questions that threatened to spill. In due time, he told himself. Once the translator was complete, Simon would have a much easier time answering.

"Okay, how about we start with A? What spine do you want to be A?"

Simon pointed to one of the longest ones, letting it move. It sounded low. Ryland held the small microphone up to it to catch the noise. He stopped the recording, cut it down, and added the letter A to the audio file. He couldn't help but smile to himself. He was really communicating with a merman. A merman was letting him talk, letting him study!

They continued the same song and dance for the whole alphabet, running into a few hiccups here and there since some of the spines were difficult to move. They decided to assign the lesser used letters to those ones to make it easier. Vowels were assigned to the easiest to move and the rest were assigned after that. It took until the stars started shining in the sky for the translator to finally be complete. Ryland leaned against the wall, blinking sluggishly as he typed in the letter Z.

"Alright. There's our translator. Let's test it out."

Simon kept his eyes on the computer intently as he moved the spines quickly.

"Going to sleep."

The voice that came out of the translator was very deep, not fitting for Simon at all. It was like those voice filters on social media that make your voice unnecessarily low. He scrambled to change it after seeing Simon's scowl.

"Not that one. How about this?"

"Going to sleep," said a seductive voice.

"Nope, nope, no need for that," Ryland said with a shake of his head. He ignored the slight flush on his cheeks in favor of choosing the next voice.

"Going to sleep," said a low, smooth voice.

Simon pointed, his spines moving quick. "Kind of sounds like my old voice."

"Alright. Mark's voice it is." Ryland made sure their progress had saved before closing his laptop and standing. "Want me to bring more fish tomorrow?"

"Don't care."

"Well, I don't want you to starve if you're hungry."

"Need to sleep, leave me alone. Don't come back," Simon said with another glare.

Ryland frowned, wondering where the sarcastic, silly mood went. He nodded anyway, figuring maybe if he complied, that it would get Simon to trust him more. That, and he wondered why Simon allowed him to study him today and spend so much time making a way for them to communicate only for him to tell Ryland to never return. "Okay. I'll… leave you to it. Goodnight, Simon."

He didn't receive a response, just another glare before Simon was back in the water, leaving the deck empty. Ryland glanced up at the moon for a moment, basking in it's brightness. He took a deep breath, memorizing the smell of salt in the air, before retreating to his shared room.

On the way there, he nearly bumped right into Stratt. She was accompanied by Carl and two more men in fancy black suits. Stoic as ever, she stood her ground and paused as he stumbled, catching himself with a hand on the metal wall.

"Oh, Stratt. Hi," he said with a nod to the other men. He sent a small smile to his friend. "Carl."

"Dr. Grace. You seem to be in a hurry. Is there new progress?" Stratt questioned calmly.

"Oh, no no no, I was just uh…"

Crap, what do I say? Hurry, think of something! She's looking at you funny!

He chuckled, which only made Stratt raise her brow. Carl even looked suspicious. Ryland cursed himself. He was never the best liar.

"Going to the bar! Ilyukhina invited me earlier but I had some work to get done first, so. Yeah. Heading to the bar."

Carl sent another look but seemed to buy the excuse. Stratt, not so much. She didn't let her facial expressions change much when talking, but she definitely didn't believe him. Ryland could see the exhaustion tugging down her eyelids, though, which he took as a win as she just nodded.

"Enjoy the festivities. And the beer," she said simply before stepping around him.

Ryland nodded again, a nervous smile on his face. "Yeah, yeah, alright. Thanks. See ya."

He watched them turn the corner, listening to their footsteps grow faint. He exhaled deeply and rushed back to his room. His roommate wasn't in yet, thank God. He quickly showered and changed into more comfortable clothes before opening his laptop on his desk.

"Okay. Mer-people…" he muttered. "Got a lot to learn."

He spent the entire night researching, jotting down notes he figured would be relevant to further understanding Simon's biology. His roommate eventually stumbled into the room and promptly passed out at the foot of his bed, but Ryland didn't relent in his research. He kept going until the sun came up and his stomach roared at him to get some food.

When the sun rose, casting rays of light upon his desk, he packed his laptop and notes and headed towards the cafeteria. Checking his watch, it was perfect timing. Not a lot of people were eating at seven in the morning aside from security detail that just got off the night shift. Ryland just kept his head down as he scarfed down his food, watching the staff intently. Waiting for them to change shifts.

Once the kitchen staff were out of sight, Ryland moved. He returned his silverware and tray to the proper areas and rushed behind the counter. He entered the back of the kitchen where the magic happened. He avoided hanging pots and carts with dough on them—oh, pizza night must be soon, then—and scanned the area for the walk-in. He spotted it near the back and ran for it.

He grabbed another case of fish, pushing back the icky feeling that came with the smell. Typically, Ryland got motion sick, but pungent smells could also do the trick. He made his time in the kitchen short, heading straight for the meeting spot.

Thankfully, a lot of the scientific team liked to sleep in after a long night of studying, so the halls were empty aside from security. They didn't bat an eye at him, which he probably should've been offended at but he brushed it aside. There were much more important things to discover.

He made it back to the bottom of the boat, once again making his footsteps noticable. Ryland was temporarily captivated by the rising sun, the beautiful mesh of colors on the horizon that were reflected on the water. The sight brought a small wave of anxiety to him. He should've been looking under the microscope, helping the scientists come up with zero-g compatible lab equipment or new theories on the origin of Astrophage. Instead, he had his head in the ocean.

Then again, maybe it was a good thing it was him who found Simon and not someone else.

He blinked, listening to the water roar, feeling a chilly breeze pass by.

"Simon?" he said.

He continued down, across the little catwalk and stopping at the little balcony. Simon was there already. He was a bit further down the balcony, his back to Ryland, though the spines moved occasionally. Ryland stood still for a moment, studying. Was Simon sleeping? He didn't want to get too close since Simon didn't seem to like his personal bubble being invaded, but he also felt a jolt of worry, wondering if Simon was hurt or not. He couldn't tell.

Ryland carefully set the box of fish down. "Simon?"

The merman shot up, teeth bared and eyes sharp. The teeth on his cheek wiggled. Ryland stared into Simon's brown eye. All he could see was suspicion, anger.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up." He raised his hands in surrender, which seemed to calm Simon a little. "I brought you some more food, if you're hungry."

The spines moved.

"What do you want from me?" the voice from the computer sounded.

Ryland tugged the box of fish closer to him. He sat on his knees, trying to make himself look less of a threat even if Simon could end his life with a single swipe of his nails. Simon's eyes never left him, tracking his every movement with utmost suspicion.

"Nothing. I… I don't want anything from you. I just want to help."

"Lying. Humans always want something."

Simon ended that sentence with a slight hiss.

Ryland sighed. "I mean, remember how I've been saying no one's ever seen anything like you before? I'm curious."

"Want to study me. Dissect me under your microscopes," Simon said with a glare.

"No, no no. I do want to understand you better. That's the scientist in me, always wanting to understand how something so impossible is possible." Ryland slowly opened the box of fish and took one. It was a different one from the day before. He saw Simon's red eye widen a bit. "But I promise, I don't want to hurt you. I just want to learn. If you'll let me."

"You bring me bribery in exchange for knowledge. What happens if I talk? You bring your findings to your boss, get me killed?"

This was not going to be easy. While he took it as a little win that Simon was talking to him, it wasn't going very well. His heart lurched seeing Simon so distrustful, knowing that whatever happened to him to make him so wary of humans was horrid. He could only imagine the hardships Simon faced trying to survive. How was he going to convince Simon he wouldn't hurt him?

Maybe some dry humor? No. Reassurance was surely the best option to calm him.

"My boss doesn't really care about anything but saving the sun right now. I doubt she'll do anything if she finds out about you."

"Why do you insist on coming back?" Simon asked with furrowed brows. Analyzing. Assessing. "You being here risks my life. You're too blinded by your persuit of knowledge to realize that. For you saying you just want to help, you're really fucking me over here."

He was right. Ryland didn't really think about his new routine. Someone was bound to wonder where Dr. Grace went after dinner for a few hours, wondering why he had a new pep in his step all of a sudden. He was bound to be questioned or, knowing Stratt, bound to be followed. Eventually, his secret would be found and Simon… he could be killed. Dissected under a microscope by humans to try and understand the creature that shouldn't exist. Ryland knew this and he still visited.

Still put Simon in danger when he said he was just trying to help. Help him do what? Die?

Ryland put the fish back, chest suddenly heavy. Wondering why Simon let him build a translator if he was just going to lash out, push Ryland away. Why start building a bridge of trust if he was just going to break the foundation?

He knew why. Simon was just trying to protect himself from an unpredictable species. A species known for violence against the unknown, the unknown they refuse to try and understand. Ryland understood Simon on a fundamental level—the distrust, the suspicion, following the ship for food—but he didn't understand Simon personally. He wanted to. He'd never met anyone like Simon before. The researcher in him wanted to gather all the data.

But he was endangering Simon by doing so.

"I'm…" he tried, his tongue heavy. "You're right. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking and you're right. I was just trying to help, but… I'll leave you be. I should be focusing on Astrophage, anyway. Got a sun to save. I'm sorry for bothering you."

Simon just continued to glare, though his eyes bore into Ryland with an intense heaviness. Something between curiosity and nervousness. Like Ryland's words were just false promises.

Or maybe… sadness.

"I swear, I'll leave you alone. A-And I won't tell anyone. I'll burn all my notes, too, just to be safe. Or maybe just stomp them down a drain." Ryland closed his laptop and stuffed it back in his bag. He slung it over his shoulder, rising to his feet, feeling the blood start circulating in his legs again. Simon tracked his every move. "Just uh… I know I probably won't see you again, so just be careful. The world is gonna start cooling within the next five, maybe ten years. You should probably live near the equator where the sun's rays hit the most. It'll keep you alive. Unless you like it cold."

He tried his best to memorize Simon's face. His deep brown eye and ruby red one. His teeth on his cheek, sharp but moving slowly, as if feeling the air and its temperature. His slightly curly hair that fell just below his pectorals. The deep charcoal color of his tail and the fins on his sides. Ryland sent a small, hopefully disarming smile, watching as Simon's brows relaxed. How his eyes lost a bit of the edge to them, the sharpness.

"The kitchen staff usually toss out leftovers every Sunday. That's in two days. I'm not sure exactly where they bring it, but I think you're smart enough to find out." He kept smiling even if he wanted to yell at himself for being so stupid and reckless. "It was nice meeting you, Simon. Please be careful if you're sticking around. I'd… I'd hate to see anything happen to you."

Simon's expression faltered. Ryland didn't look into it too much, instead offering a little nod before grasping his backpack straps and turning away. Each step he took away from Simon, his overeager brain chastised him, urged him to ignore Simon's wishes. But he couldn't do that to him, couldn't be the reason Simon could lose his life over something so selfish. Because Ryland's wish for knowledge was selfish in nature. He disregarded Simon's safety to satisfy his curiosity. Not again.

With the rest of his day free (and his night no longer occupied by going to the back of the ship), he once again devoted all of his time to research. He ripped up all the notes he took about Simon, about mer-folk, and ran them under the tap until they became mush. He didn't have the heart to ruin his full-body sketch he made of Simon, though. He managed to capture the wonder, the mystery of the merman. He made sure to hide it with his personal belongings. Just because he couldn't see Simon anymore didn't mean he couldn't speculate how Simon's skeletal structure was formed, or what purpose the second set of teeth served.

Everything went back to normal. He woke up, went to eat, holed up in the labs all day while ocassionally being dragged into meetings with Stratt (who never let up with the suspicious side-eyes since nearly running into her), sometimes had dinner and continued research. He desperately tried to suppress thoughts of teeth and moving spines throughout the days. He was supposed to be working, after all. Saving his kids from thirty years of hardship and pain.

Saving Simon from it.

He wondered why he felt so attached to the merman even though he knew nothing about him. Simon's company was quiet but thoughtful. Simon had a bit of a staring problem, but he was sarcastic and rude but in a charming way. That, and he was doing nothing wrong trying to protect himself. Ryland just wished Simon granted him a few more hours, a few more comments to give him food to chew on regarding Simon's origin.

Over the next week, he kept finding himself imagining a life that brought Simon to the ship. Maybe he lived in a place like Atlantis. Or maybe it was like The Little Mermaid, and Simon liked collecting items humans left in the ocean and he traveled where rare items took him. In the quiet moments between theorizing Astrophage and typing up new data results, he came up with many different time lines and origin stories. If only to satiate the urge to walk to the back of the ship.

Carl seemed to notice something was up with him, but he didn't say anything. He probably figured it had something to do with Astrophage. Ryland had been growing increasingly frustrated with the little buggers recently. Wondering why they infected every star aside from Tau Cetti, why they needed the sun's energy to live. Just why.

It was a week and a half without his nightly trips to see Simon that Stratt sought him out on the hangar. She found him typing up a storm. A new report on the findings of the zero gravity equipment. Some of them were coming up nicely but others needed a bit more work. Ryland was trying to figure out a way to say politely "fix this shit now" when Stratt's knuckles rapped on the plastic barrier separating him from the rest of the hangar.

He looked up, Twizzler half dangling from his mouth, only to find Stratt wasn't alone. She had a group of people behind her, some wearing fancy suits and others wearing yellow jumpsuits. She glanced at him expectantly.

Crap, he cursed internally.

Ryland shot out of his seat and exited the little lab, meeting the group at the end of the tunnel. He pulled his blue jacket closer to his body. The hangar always ran a little cold. Courtesy of the Astrophage experiments.

"Dr. Grace, these are representatives from North America, Canada, and Europe regarding Astrophage progress. And these are the second set of backups for the astronauts just to be safe," Stratt introduced, coming to stand by his side.

Ryland quickly ate the rest of his Twizzler, giving each person a quick sweep before nodding in greeting. "Hello."

"Why don't we take a walk and discuss recent findings?" Stratt offered. She gave Ryland a look that said he wasn't getting out of this.

He resigned his fate with a sigh, offering a smile to the official-looking group. He never did well with government officials in a room. He walked backwards, trusting Stratt to lead them in the right direction.

"We've been working extensively on formulating equipment for the astronauts to use in zero gravity. So far, we have microscopes and a few handheld thermometers, and we are currently in the process of figuring out the kinks for a spectrometer," he said. As much as he complained about meetings and being in rooms full of people eager for his knowledge, the words were quick to slip from his tongue.

"And how long will it take for all of the equipment needed to be produced?" a woman in a tan colored suit said. Her tone was sharp, like Stratt's when she wanted something done right away.

"It depends. We have express shipping from all over the world, so it shouldn't take too long," Ryland replied with a chuckle.

Nobody laughed. Stratt tugged his sleeve to pull him right, narrowly avoiding bumping into a man in a flight suit. He ignored the flush coating his cheeks and coughed, clearing his throat. He squinted, suddenly finding himself in the sun's harsh light. He blinked a few times, finding the ocean sparkling. Jets landed, others were being fueled for another flight. Orders were being barked. He didn't like staying up by the jets for too long. It was always too chaotic for him.

He leaned close to Stratt to whisper, "this isn't really a good spot to talk. Too loud."

"Figured you could do with some fresh air," she replied with a small smirk.

Damn her.

"Dr. Grace, where are we in understanding Astrophage?" a man with glasses asked.

"Uhhh, not very far, unfortunately." Ryland took charge in walking the group past the more chaotic scenes. Men and women with helmets and flight suits ran across deck. He spotted an area near the end of the hangar. He'd been over there a few times when he needed space from the lab. "We're still in the dark as to where it came from. A few of our scientists believe that it originated from Tau Cetti."

He led them towards the back of the platform, leaning against the chain railing once he was satisfied with how far the chaos was. The woman in the yellow jumpsuit scoffed. Ryland hadn't gotten her name.

"Interesting belief. What makes you think that?" she asked. Her accent was definitely English.

"Tau Cetti is the only star system unaffected by Astrophage. If it originated there, it's natural to think there's some sort of regulator there that keeps the star alive. Of course, it's just a theory. We don't really know where it came from or why it needs the sun's energy to live."

The man with the glasses sighed. "Billions, even trillions of dollars are being poured into this project, and you're telling me you haven't found anything after months of research?"

Ryland frowned, annoyance spiking in his chest. Rynning off of two hours of sleep probably didn't help his case, either, for his tongue seemed more than eager to slip up. "Okay, Mr. Wise Guy. Sorry that research takes time. Maybe you could do it better—"

Stratt elbowed him with a glare. The man was looking at him with a raised brow, a challenge. Ryland bit his tongue and sighed.

"What Dr. Grace means to say—" Stratt said quickly "—is that Astrophage is unlike anything we've ever seen before. Obviously, it will take time to produce more to use for study. Our scientists are doing everything under the sun to attempt and learn more about them. I can assure you, everyone on this ship is working hard and fast."

"We are on a very tight schedule. What else can you tell us? How close are we to launching the Hail Mary?" the woman in the tan suit said.

Ryland crossed his arms, digging his nails into his sleeves to keep himself from snapping. Who were these people to come on the ship and demand answers? Because every country in the world was pitching in money and needed an update to know if their dollars were being spent wisely? Respectfully, they could kiss Ryland's ass. Everyone was working at full capacity. He, and many other scientists, barely slept because the looming threat of Astrophage was too great to allow them peace in slumber.

Everyone knew the stakes. Everyone knew how little time they had. Everyone knew what was going to happen if the project failed, and yet everyone still showed up. Everyone pitched in, did their part and more, all for the love of Earth and humanity. Ryland tried to joke lightly because if he didn't, he'd be stuck in a permanant state of thinking gloomy thoughts. Doom and gloom, and Ryland couldn't work very well under that kind of mental distress.

Thankfully, Stratt took over the conversation for him. All he heard was muffled conversation and echoed orders from people further down the hangar. Ryland glanced down at the ocean, watching the waves ripple off the boat.

Is Simon down there? I hope he's gotten some food.

Ryland was rudely brought back to reality by a loud clang that made him jump. The entire group startled, instinctively ducking and protecting their heads. Ryland saw in the distance a small fire on deck near one of the jets. Panic shot through his body, white hot.

"Oh shit," the woman in the jumpsuit said before taking off in a run towards the blaze.

Ryland watched her and a bunch of other crew members head to calm the flames. He watched the fire grow, wondering how the hell it happened. Even from their spot near the end of the hangar, he could feel the heat radiating from the flames. Instinctively, Ryland pressed his weight further into the support beam of the railing.

The next thing he knew, gravity was taking effect, and he was facing the ocean that was steadily growing closer. Wind roared in his ears.

He didn't even have time to scream before the impact.

It was like a shockwave rippling through his body as he was submerged in an instant. Goosebumps broke out on his skin. Ryland's panic increased tenfold. He couldn't move. He tried to wiggle his fingers but his body refused to obey him. He tried kicking his legs. It worked for a moment, but he was sinking fast. Ryland could swim—hell, he loved swimming whenever he got the chance—but he'd never ever fallen from such a height before.

The water wasn't cold. It was actually decently warm. It would've been a nice swim if not for the fact that he couldn't move and that he couldn't tell if the tingling pain was adrenaline covering up broken bones or not. Knowing his luck, he broke something and the adrenaline or shock was covering it up. He hit the water at an odd angle, probably shoulder/collarbone area first. He wouldn't be surprised if his arm or wrist had snapped under the impact. He refused to look at his arms, though, in favor of watching the aircraft carrier grow further and further away.

Why can't I move?

He watched the image of the aircraft carrier grow distant, the edges of his vision starting to go black.

Get up! You need to move!

You're going to die!

His lips parted involuntarily. Small bubbles floated to the surface he couldn't reach. His lungs burned. His eyes stung from the salinity of the water.

Out of all ways to die, it had to be one of your worst fears.

Shut up, me.

Ryland wanted to keep working, keep making discoveries. Help save the world and the sun. His kids. He wanted to get back to teaching. He wanted to pick up a new hobby that didn't destroy his sleep schedule. He wanted to do a lot of things, and he would never get to do them because he was an idiot who leaned too far over the edge. A scaredy cat who could never get over his cowardice.

As his eyes slowly slipped shut, the light slowly fading from view, he thought he saw something move. A shadow. He chalked it up to the vignette, watching the last air bubbles depart from his lips and shoot for the surface.

He wished he could follow.

Something brushed his calves.

Ryland couldn't see.

Ryland never liked the sensation of vomiting, which was why he hated the ease at which his body got carsick. It was the idea of your body expelling something simply because it disagreed with it, a violent act that made your whole body move and lurch as your stomach pushed up contents. Ryland attributed it to drowning in reverse. It was hard to breathe when your breakfast was currently being pushed out of your throat.

As he regained consciousness, he threw up. It was mostly water and bits of his small breakfast he had that morning. That was the other thing about vomit—the taste. Truly disgusting but also fascinating how the human body works to protect itself.

Ryland took account of his body. Other than his stomach twisting, his right arm was in agony, burning. Breathing in and out, his ribs stung. He was soaking wet, his clothes clinging to him and weighing him down to the spot.

He opened his eyes, coming face to face with a familiar metal floor covered in a mix of water, stomach acid, and bits of toast. He groaned and tried to move his shaky limbs backwards. He sat flat on his ass, taking deep breaths and hissing when it aggravated his injuries. Whatever they were. He couldn't tell if his ribs were just bruised or broken. The impact from hitting the water could've shattered his arm, could've rippled to break other bones. Maybe. He didn't really know how that worked—if it could work.

He felt a hand gently pat his back. Warm. Embarrassment crawled up his neck, making his face flush beetroot red. How embarrassing to nearly drown after falling off the ship and have someone perform CPR on him. He wanted to scream how he could swim, how the fall just sent his body into shock and refused to let his legs move.

He wiped his mouth with his left sleeve. "God, that sucked."

As he blinked away involuntary tears, his vision grew clear. He stilled, realizing he was in the same spot he last saw Simon. It made sense, as it was the one part of the ship that was closest to the water. It was easy access to the sea, to dragging his sorry ass back on the boat. Another wave of panic lodged in his throat.

Simon.

Was he nearby? Did the crew catch him in his usual lounging spot? Was he okay?

"Sim—" he cut himself off with a fresh wave of coughs that rattled his stinging lungs. The hand patted his back again, a bit firmer this time.

Ryland used the part of his sleeve not covered in vomit to wipe his eyes. He froze, wondering why the area was empty. No personnel, no Stratt yelling for someone to get the chief science officer back, no chaos on deck. Just him and the open ocean and the end of a webbed fin curling around his legs.

A fin. Charcoal colored. With little spines coming out of them.

Ryland slowly turned around. Deep brown and red stared back at him worriedly, a large hand hovering near him.

"Simon! What the—"

The merman's spines moved quickly, his expression falling into a glare. Ryland wished he had his laptop. He vaguely remembered what spines were assigned to what letter but he couldn't keep up with the speed at which Simon was spelling. It didn't take much to know that Simon was angry. Ryland was still reeling at the fact that Simon was there.

He saved him. He had to. Simon was no doubt a fast swimmer and could easily keep up with the aircraft carrier. Ryland, not so much in the state at which he hit the water.

But why? Simon didn't want him around, didn't trust humans at all. So why save him?

"What—?" Ryland tried before hissing as another wave of pain washed over his arm. He cradled it to his chest, trying to roll up his sleeve with one hand to assess the damage. He saw Simon pause out of the corner of his eye. Observing. He managed to get his sleeve up. His arm wasn't bent nor was there any bones sticking out, thank God. He sighed, poking his arm and immediately regretting it. "Crap… think it's broken."

Simon gave him a look. Duh, he imagined him saying.

Ryland just stared back, electing to ignore the throbbing pain in his arm. "You… saved me. You pulled me out."

Simon hesitated before nodding slowly. He brought his hand up and pointed at Ryland's chest, his spines moving slowly. Chiming.

"You—" he stopped, blood rushing to his face. "You uh, did CPR?"

Simon hissed.

"No. Okay. Just hit my chest a few times, then?"

He nodded.

That's why my ribs hurt, then. He packs a punch. Makes sense, he's like three times the size of you.

Ryland willed his racing heart to calm down, wishing he could crawl back under the ocean and die for letting his face flush such a bright red. He took a deep breath. "Thank you. You didn't have to save me."

At that, Simon's lips turned downward, lopsided. It almost reminded Ryland of Stratt when she was giving her signature it is what it is smile. Simon looked two seconds away from rolling his eyes, but instead of doing that, his tail curled further around Ryland.

Ryland's brain was torn between being fried and wondering how long Simon's tail actually was and if he needed to be in the water or not to survive. It didn't seem like it. He seemed to be able to breathe oxygen just fine but did he need it to live? Was he like the fish with gills and lungs?

He tried not to focus on the fact that the tail was bigger than his entire body times two.

"Oh, uh… what're you doing?" he asked with a nervous chuckle, feeling like a prey in a snake's coil. He felt the tail brush his back. He suppressed a shiver. "Simon, you can't be up here. They're gonna come looking for me and they'll find you."

Simon grabbed the front of Ryland's jacket and tugged. He did not yelp, thank you very much, as Simon pulled him to lay down, using his tail as a pillow. Ryland stilled. He could feel the heat radiating off of Simon, the way the muscle of his tail tensed as he moved around, further coiling. He was careful not to let the sharp points of Simon's fins dig into him, nor did he want to get too close to the protruding teeth.

"No, you don't understand, they'll find you. You can't stay up here. I'll be okay. I need to get my arm checked out, anyway, I think it's broken."

Simon wasn't listening. Ryland had to admit, the tail was a comfortable pillow, nice and warm. And for having just woken up, he was exhausted. Nearly dying will do that to you, he guessed, but he needed to get his arm checked out before he messed it up even more. The longer he spent leaning against Simon's tail, the more tired he felt. The less he wanted to move his aching limbs. He couldn't stay. Stratt was no doubt sending search parties for him. If they found Simon…

He tried to push himself up with his left hand only for the merman to gently push him back down, the juxtaposing movements causing his chest to sting.

"No, Simon, you need to get away!" he tried. "They'll hurt you if they see you! You can't… I can't… I'll be fine, I promise. Remember our last conversation? I-I won't fall in the water again, just get out of here before they—"

"—find him yet? I need answers now."

He tried to sit up again at the echo of Stratt's voice, demanding.

"Simon, seriously, if she sees you—"

Simon gently grasped his uninjured arm, keeping him in place.

"Why are you being so stubborn? You don't want me here and then you keep me here. Why?"

He could hear Stratt's footsteps getting closer. Not running but walking at an elevated pace. Simon's fingers brushed over the pulse point on Ryland's wrist, pausing for a moment before the merman finally let go. Ryland managed to push himself to his knees, watching as Simon's tail slowly unraveled around him.

He bore into the merman's eyes, finding inklings of worry staring back. Ryland faltered seeing the merman so… open. Unguarded. Stratt's footsteps drew closer.

"I'll be okay, I promise. You did great, saving me." He offered a small smile, hoping it was reassuring. "I'll come back if you want me to. Just to check in."

Simon nodded slowly, his eyes flickering to Ryland's broken arm.

"Okay. I'll be back. Maybe… two days? Just to be safe?"

Simon nodded again.

"Thank you. Please be careful. They're probably still searching the water."

Simon slid off the balcony and into the ocean in one smooth motion, his tail splashing some water onto the railing. Ryland couldn't help but lean over the edge very carefully to peer into the water. He saw the tips of Simon's webbed ear protruding from the water. If he squinted, he could see a red eye staring up at him. Ryland offered a subtle wave before gripping the railing and staggering to his feet.

Just in time, too.

"Dr. Grace," Stratt called with slight relief in her features. She lowered her phone from her ear as she approached, eyes scanning him.

"Stratt," he said, his body shivering. He was itching to get out of his soaked clothes, to maybe get some painkillers.

"You're alive."

"Don't feel like it."

"How did you get up here? I've had people in boats searching for the last hour that came up dry."

Ryland forced himself to not look at the water. "Just got lucky, I guess. Got good leg muscles. It's from all that cycling to work."

She didn't share the same self-deprecating chuckle.

"You're hurt," Stratt said bluntly, her eyes landing on the arm he cradled close. "Let's go to the medical wing. We can talk there."

"Right. Did the fire get put out?"

"Of course."

As Ryland walked beside Stratt, he risked a glance back. Where he just looked over the water, he saw Simon's face peeking up from the balcony. Watching Ryland go. He sent a small smile and listened to Stratt call her guards off the search.

Simon saved him. He didn't have to but he did. He had valid reasons (unbeknownst to Ryland) to not trust humans and yet he risked his life to save him. Why?

Maybe to keep having a solid food source. Ryland had to stop himself over the last week and a half from dropping off crates of fish for Simon. Maybe he saved him so he could get more food.

He would find out when he went back. Maybe Simon would be more willing to open up then. Until then, Ryland walked alongside Stratt to the med-bay. He ignored the worried glances his coworkers sent his way.

God, he'd never live that down, would he?

Ryland's arm was broken. He was lucky it wasn't shattered.

The on-site doctor had wrapped it in a cast (he chose a deeper blue color) and given him a sling to wear for a few weeks. Other than his arm, Simon had broken one of his ribs. He'd rather have that than be dead, so he didn't really mind. Breathing kind of hurt, though, so that sucked.

In the two days that he waited to go see Simon again, Stratt had taken it upon herself to assign him personal guards. Except they weren't the kind of guards you'd automatically think of with all of their special tactical equipment and guns and stuff. It was Carl and Ilyukhina, primarily. Sometimes Yao or DuBois. Curse Stratt. She knew he couldn't deny a friendly face sometimes and she used it against him.

Thankfully, he wasn't bedridden or anything, so he was able to go to the lab and work under intense supervision from whoever was on "watch Dr. Grace and make sure he doesn't kill himself" duty. Ryland didn't know how long Stratt planned on doing the whole buddy-system thing, but it was really going to mess with his secret meeting if she didn't call it off soon. All the while he worked in the lab, sharing Skittles and Twizzlers, he theorized Simon's motive for saving him.

Food, obviously. Simon could hunt for sure with how fast he swims, that wasn't an issue. Ryland thought back over the last few meetings, how Simon seemed tired all the time. Maybe he was like those deep sea creatures who would occasionally come up to the higher levels of the ocean. Or maybe since he was so hungry, he got tired easily.

The only other reason he could think of was that Simon just wanted to repay the favor. That maybe he didn't like to be in debt to people and wanted to make sure he had no obligation to Ryland in exchange for the food.

The theory didn't add up with the odd clingy behavior he showed before Stratt found him.

Simon had kept him close, like he wanted to hide him from Stratt. But why? So many questions and too little answers.

"Astrophage can't be that interesting," Carl said from his seat a few feet away. He tossed a ball in the air and caught it.

Ryland blinked. Right. He was supposed to be studying Astrophage. He had been staring into the microscope for God knows how long, probably a few minutes, doing nothing else. No note taking, no muttering, because his thoughts weren't on the dire problem humanity faced at the moment, but a merman who was probably waiting for him already at the bottom of the ship.

"It is," Ryland said absentmindedly. It was the same thing. He didn't know why he was looking under the microscope. The dots were the same as they were the first time he saw them. No light passed through. They moved occasionally.

"You've been staring at them for, like, five minutes."

"Observation is part of the scientific method."

"Yeah, but you already did that part months ago. What about the space equipment?"

"The zero-g stuff?"

Carl hummed an affirmative. "That stuff seems a bit more important than looking at the same thing over and over."

"I'm not Doctor Lokken. My place is with Astrophage."

"But didn't you help with the centrifuge?"

Ryland sighed, leaning away from the microscope and rubbing his eyes with his left hand. The air suddenly felt tense. Ryland didn't mean for it to be that way, he was just… frustrated. Frustrated that Stratt seems to think he can't take care of himself (which he can, thank you very much) and assigns him a buddy every hour of every day. Not that the company wasn't nice, but it was suffocating from going from working alone most of the time to suddenly having someone watching him at all hours until bedtime. He was frustrated that he wasn't getting new results with Astrophage, seemingly having figured the little guys out, but he knew that there was always more to learn.

"Yeah, but I'm not building it," he said.

Carl tossed the ball again, his brows furrowed as he caught it easily. "You okay, man?"

Ryland hummed absentmindedly. He wanted to go to the cafeteria and steal more fish for Simon.

"You don't look like it."

"I am, trust me. I'm always tired nowadays."

"Yeah but you've got something else on your mind. I can see it. Is it Stratt?"

"Yup," Ryland said just to say it.

"She'll let up eventually when she sees you're not that clumsy," Carl said with a smirk.

"Hey!"

"Lighten up a bit, man." Carl checked his watch. "Dinner time."

"Am I ever gonna get a choice on this boat for anything I do?" Ryland sighed, leaning back dangerously in his chair and pushing himself to start spinning. Bad idea, for he was still fighting a bit of a migraine from the impromptu fall.

Carl stood and put his hand on the back of Ryland's chair to stop him. "C'mon, dinner time."

"Fine, mom. I'll even eat my veggies this time," he said, grabbing his coat. Not that he could wear it with his sling on. He just shrugged it over his shoulders and hoped it would stay during the walk.

Dinner was uneventful. Carl had refused to let him get up and make his own plate, so there was that. Ryland sat at the table, watching Ilyukhina and Yao laughing as they walked together. They spotted Ryland and waved, heading over.

"God, can't I get a moment alone?" he muttered to himself.

"Dr. Grace," Yao greeted with a warm smile and nod. "You seem tired."

Ilyukhina and Yao sat down in front of him. It was times like these where Ryland remembered their part in the plan. He pictured their warm smiles and joyous laughter, wondering if they'd continue to have the same attitude when they're light years from home. If they'd still smile when they were faced with their chosen method of death.

Stop bringing the mood down, dude. You suck.

Ryland just shrugged. "Astrophage does that to you."

Ilyukhina shook her head. "I still think some vodka and karaoke would do you well, doctor. It does not matter if you sound like Rihanna or a dying whale, we have fun! That is what we're here for, no?"

"That, among other things," he replied. He appreciated their gusto, their positive outlook on the whole project. It still felt disturbingly morbid coming from the two people who were going to die for the rest of Earth to live.

Yao's chuckle was loud. Boisterous. "How is your arm feeling?"

Ryland looked at the offending cast, halfway covered by his jacket hanging on his shoulders. "It's been better. Don't really feel it, honestly. But thanks for asking."

"It was quite a tumble you took. By all accounts, you should've died," Ilyukhina said with a sigh. "Would've been a shame. I would have no one else to play poker with."

Yao suddenly looked interested, his brows furrowed. "Yes, I am interested, doctor. You got really lucky with that fall. You should've drowned. Why didn't you?"

Ryland's heart leapt to his throat. He coughed awkwardly, trying not to squirm under the two astronauts' intense gazes.

"Well, uh… I think I've used up all my luck for the year, you know?" he chuckled lightly. "A-And I've got strong legs, believe it or not."

"The ocean is not so forgiving sometimes. The current could've swept you away but it didn't."

"Like I said, very lucky."

Carl, bless him, finally returned with two steaming plates in hand. He placed them gently on the table before nodding at Yao and Ilyukhina. "Hey guys."

"Carl, how have you been?" Ilyukhina asked. Her eyes strayed back to Ryland as if saying we're continuing this discussion later. "Still on for bullshit later?"

"Of course."

Whatever that meant. Luckily, Carl's presence brought a bit more lighthearted conversation that diverted the astronauts from Ryland's insane stroke of "luck."

Ryland ate quickly and quietly, simply listening to the conversation around him as opposed to offering anything to contribute. Nobody questioned it, probably thanks to the exhaustion hanging from his bones. Once he was done, he managed to escape the confines of the table with a proclamation that he was heading to bed for an early start.

He managed to sneak into the kitchen when returning his dishes, snagging a smaller box of fish. It would have to do since he couldn't carry one of the bigger boxes. He rested the box against his hip as he walked quickly through the ship. The sky was steadily darkening, the exterior lights on the ship automatically kicking on.

Ryland moved fast, checking corners before taking them, fearing Stratt was on the lookout for him. He wondered if she'd somehow placed cameras, or if the ship had cameras she could watch. He wouldn't be alone for one minute up on deck before someone was coming up to his side and talking about his work on Astrophage.

He thankfully made it back to the bottom of the boat without much trouble. As he approached the balcony, he could already see the end of Simon's tail. His pulse raced under his skin. What would he say? What should he ask first?

He made his footsteps pronounced. He saw the end of Simon's tail quickly retract.

"It's just me, big guy," he announced as he turned the corner.

Simon was sitting on the balcony, the lower half of his tail resting in the water, his eyes wide but sharp, nails primed and ready. Prepared to attack. He quickly relaxed as Ryland stepped into the light, his eyes going from sharp to concerned, scanning Ryland until he landed on the sling.

"Yeah, it's broken. Got a broken rib, too. Frankly, I'm lucky that fall didn't kill me and that I didn't drown. All thanks to you, by the way. I've got some more fish for ya." Ryland knelt to place the box down, pushing it towards Simon.

To his surprise, Simon ignored the fish. He literally brushed the box aside and scooted closer, his tail coming out of the water to settle behind Ryland again. Trapping, like a snake. Ryland held his breath as Simon's hand slowly reached out, hesitant, to move the coat from Ryland's shoulder. The night air quickly swept in, making him shiver, goosebumps crawling up his skin. Simon's gaze remained fixed on the sling, the cast.

"It's fine. It's in the cast a-and it doesn't hurt unless I move it, so."

He could see the merman's tail coiling in, the sharp ends close to Ryland's feet. Simon's pointer finger gently trailed along the cast, his sharp nail making a shhhhh sound against the fiberglass. Ryland could feel the tail pressing against his lower back. Ryland's mouth felt dry, seeing the merman suddenly care so much after telling Ryland over and over to leave him alone. What changed all of a sudden?

The spines moved, chiming. Ryland mentally cursed.

"Crap, I forgot the laptop," he murmured.

He didn't need the translator to know what Simon was asking. He could see it clear as day in his eyes.

"I'll have a cast for up to six weeks."

Simon's brows furrowed, spines chiming faster.

"I know," Ryland chuckled, shivering again as a misty wind rippled through him. "Humans heal pretty slow. It's tedious but it keeps us alive."

Simon's eyes lowered to Ryland's chest, his hand coming up to poke him. Ryland inhaled sharply and instinctively flinched away right into the tail behind him. It kept him upright, and Ryland was surprised to find it was warm. The spines clinked quickly, high pitched, as Simon retracted his hand with apologetic eyes.

"It's okay, just stung a little," he said. "Curious, huh?"

Simon motioned for him to watch, as if Ryland wanted to look away. He watched intently as Simon raised his sharp nail and scratched his chest, creating a thin but somewhat deep cut.

"What the—Simon! What'd you do that for?"

Simon motioned again. Watch, he was saying.

Despite Ryland's tongue wanting to spew out more questions, more chastising comments about how it wasn't okay to hurt yourself, he begrudgingly watched. The cut barely had time to bleed. Ryland's eyes bulged, watching the cut slowly disappear. The cut mended itself in fifteen seconds. Ryland's jaw dropped.

The cut healed itself in fifteen seconds. What kind of magic did Simon have? How did he heal so quickly? Was it his biology? It had to be. But what kind of evolution, or biological factor, resulted in such a fast healing time?

"Holy shit," he said breathlessly. Before he could stop himself, he was raising his hand and copying what Simon did a few seconds ago. He barely registered that Simon was letting him run his finger where the cut was, that Simon was allowing him to be close and touch. "There… there was a cut right there. There was a cut! H-How did you—"

Simon's lips curled into a small smile. The sight managed to take Ryland's breath away.

"Yeah, I'm so asking about this again when I have the computer. I need answers…" Ryland muttered as he ran his finger along Simon's skin one more time. He retracted his hand after a beat, realizing that Simon was still staring like he usually did, but not with his usual stoic expression.

He looked happier for some reason. Or maybe Ryland was reading it wrong like he sometimes did and Simon was just existing, like people do, and he was making something out of nothing. The ocean was loud, but probably not as loud as Ryland's heartbeat in his ears. He returned a smile, retreating into his brain for a moment to wonder why the hell he was acting so weird in front of the merman.

The sudden change in behavior was one thing. Simon smiling was another, and looking somewhat happy? Why did it make Ryland's heart do loops in his chest? It had to be because he'd never met a merman before, let alone a merman with such impressive mood swings. He was simply intrigued by Simon's culture, his biology, his… well, everything. Not every day you meet a merman that theoretically shouldn't exist. It only made Ryland wonder what else was hidden underneath the sea.

Simon reached for the fallen jacket, bringing it back to rest on Ryland's shoulder. His hand lingered for a moment to make sure it was stable. The warmth radiating from Simon was, frankly, enough to put Ryland to sleep. He always got cold easily, and after sitting with his jacket off for a few minutes, he was shivering slightly. He hated being injured because it felt like it sucked all the energy from his body. It was exactly what was happening; he needed rest in order to recover. It was no surprise; it was science.

"Thanks," he said as another round of shivers wracked his body.

Simon's tail was fully touching his back, now, and Ryland wished he could just fall back onto it like a pillow, but he didn't want to hurt the merman. And it would probably be weird for him to do that all of a sudden. He didn't want to lose the newfound trust Simon placed in him. Ryland averted his gaze from Simon's intense stare to look at the box of fish.

"You should probably eat some of that before it goes bad. Have you been eating since our last encounter?"

Simon huffed and nodded. He even rolled his eyes before grabbing the box of fish and dragging it to rest by his hip. His spines chimed a soft melody as he took a fish and raised it to the teeth. Ryland watched the mutant teeth open and devour the fish in one bite.

"Do you have two stomachs? Or is that one mouth…?"

Simon glared, taking another fish.

"Right, sorry. No watching you eat, I forgot," he said, looking at the sea. He couldn't hold back a yawn, finding it was getting harder to keep his eyes open. Funny, since his body seemed so picky about the conditions he had to be in before going to bed. It had to be nearly pitch black, quiet, and he had to be warm—but not too warm because he'd start sweating.

The silence stretched on, and more questions rose to Ryland's tongue. The most important one spewed out first.

"Why did you save me?"

Simon ate another fish before pausing. He stared into Ryland's eyes again. Ryland couldn't read him. He seemed almost hesitant to answer, but knowing that Ryland couldn't get a direct translation put him at an advantage. He could've made up any sort of lie or story and Ryland would be none the wiser.

"I mean, I understand not wanting me around. I talk a bit too much and, like you said, I was putting you in danger by being here. But you went from… snapping at me and borderline hating me to suddenly saving me and being worried about my arm. It just… it felt weird, you know? That sudden switch up?"

The merman looked down at his hand. The spines moved, but of course, Ryland couldn't keep up. Simon looked up after a moment, eyes hesitant but sparkling with something. Trust, maybe. Or maybe the moonlight that cast upon the water. Simon gestured to himself, made what was probably supposed to be an x with his arm and then pointed, at Ryland.

"You've… hated me all along?"

Simon glared and repeated the motions.

"You don't like me?"

The merman made a small hissing sound like he was trying to sigh in exasperation. He gestured to himself again, shaking his head this time, and pointed at Ryland vehemently. Ryland still didn't get it, but he made a guess.

"You haven't met another human before?"

Simon made a so-so motion. Then, it clicked.

"Oh. You've never met anyone like me before?" Ryland asked.

The merman nodded. He could see the subtle frustration in Simon's gaze, and he felt it, too. He really wished he'd brought his laptop. Simon's words, or lack thereof, warmed his heart. Because it was true. Simon hadn't meant to be found. He just lingered. Ryland got lucky to meet him, to have Simon trust him. He wondered if Simon had met any other humans and trusted them. Simon had surely interacted with other humans before, but based on his scars, it didn't take much to see that the encounters were less than friendly.

"I… me, too. But I said that a while ago."

Simon's lips turned up again into a little grin. He pointed at himself, then raised his hand to his chin and brought it down. Once again, Ryland was rendered absolutely speechless, because how did Simon know the motion for gratitude in ASL when he didn't like interacting with humans? One thing was for certain, though, and it was that Simon was smart. Really smart.

He kept watching. Simon pointed at Ryland again and then made a talking motion, shaking his head.

"You're grateful for me keeping my mouth shut about you."

The merman nodded. Ryland was vaguely aware of Simon's tail still curling, still holding. He struggled to keep himself upright with the exhaustion of the day hitting him full force.

"I meant what I said before I left. I'd hate to see anything happen to you because of me," he said. "You haven't done anything wrong at all. You've just been defending yourself, keeping yourself safe, and I respect that. Humans can be very… harmful. Angry for no reason."

As Ryland pulled his jacket closer to his body to preserve warmth, something poked his side. He frowned, using his left hand to reach into his pocket. Nothing. Then he tried the inside left pocket only to curse himself mentally. He produced the pen and notepad he and Simon first used to communicate. He could still see Simon's old scribbles on the front page. Rightfully, Simon glowered at him, as if saying "you really made me do all of that when you had the notepad this whole time?"

"Don't look at me like that, I'm not at a hundred percent in the head yet. My brain still hurts from hitting the water," Ryland said (totally not in a whine).

Simon rolled his eyes and snatched the notepad and pen from his hands. He immediately started scribbling.

Asshole.

"Hey, that's not nice."

Simon wrote again, slower this time. Ryland craned his neck to try and see what he was writing only for the end of Simon's tail to gently press him back. His face flushed with embarrassment and something else. Never did he think that a merman would be using his tail to basically (gently) manhandle him. He wasn't complaining, though, because he was slowly starting to feel his legs fall asleep. That, and he was steadily loosing energy the longer Simon's warm tail remained coiled around him.

Simon tapped the notepad, showing it.

To answer your question; I saved you because you're not like other humans I've interacted with. You're kinder. Harmless. And you haven't hurt me. Every other human that's seen me has attacked, but you asked questions. You're not evil like them.

Oh. Simon trusted him because he treated him with basic decency and kindness. Granted, it made sense because Ryland knew humans well enough to know how big of assholes they could be, especially when it came to things they'd consider "exotic." Like poachers hunting down exotic or endangered animals for their hide or teeth to be sold on the markets. He could only imagine what the humans Simon encountered wanted to take from him.

Knowing humans, though, they would've wanted the whole merman, not just the teeth. Someone would've paid a hefty price to have something no one else did. The thought made Ryland's stomach twist, his blood boil, because why couldn't everyone show the same decency and kindness to everything living? It was so frustrating to think about because Simon didn't deserve to be attacked for simply existing, and yet... some people. Some people always had to ruin it.

"I… I try my best to be kind. I wasn't always like that," he admitted, his words carried on by the night's breeze. His fingers went to tug at the hem of his jacket, needing something to do while Simon continued to stare. Analyzing for a reaction. "I was the worst in college. Arrogant and mean. Just because I had a thesis that was unpopular, I thought I was right about everything. I've really dumbed it down over the years because I realized it's not worth it. And also because my actions got me banished from my academic career, so… there's that, too."

Simon raised a brow, moving to write. You? Mean?

"Yeah, it happens sometimes, believe it or not. Like before I fell in the water, I was helping Stratt debrief these executives about our progress with Astrophage and all of that, and one of them hits me with this whole we've poured in trillions of dollars and this is all you have to say about it? So I told him okay, Mr. Wise Guy, how about you do it yourself, then? I wanted to say you become the molecular biologist, then but Stratt cut me off before I could say anything else."

Wow. What a dick.

"I know, right?"

Simon snickered as he wrote. He deserved that one.

Ryland chuckled. "That, he did. I don't like being mean sometimes but it just… comes out, you know? Guess I'm still kind of bitter about my peers chastising me about my only original idea I ever had."

What was the idea?

It was then that Ryland realized Simon wasn't pulling away. He wasn't getting closer, either. He was just sitting there. Talking. Listening. He wasn't making an effort to run or push Ryland away. He was entertaining conversation, actively getting to know more about some dumb human he saved. Part of Ryland thought it was just to fill the silence. The other part of him felt like Simon had finally let down the final barrier, allowing Ryland to finally step in and maybe become friends.

The realization made Ryland smile. Simon raised a brow at him but didn't write anything else. Waiting for an answer.

"It was about water-based lifeforms. It's actually what got me roped into this project. Basically, I thought that not all life needed water to survive. That's the short answer."

Both of Simon's brows shot up in disbelief and humor, the reaction drawing a chuckle out of Ryland.

"I know, I know! Sounds dumb but I had evidence! A whole dissertation! And Stratt saw it and asked me to look at the Astrophage samples because how could it survive on the sun if it's a water-based life form? It's too hot on the surface of the sun to live, but these little guys are tricky."

Simon tapped the pen against the notepad for a moment before writing slowly again.

Sorry you got banished for that.

Part of Ryland wondered if he had backed down from his unpopular opinion, where would he have ended up? Probably still miserable, thinking he was smarter than everyone else and flaunting it to his peers' faces. He wouldn't have found his true calling in teaching. He wouldn't have come onto the project, onto the boat.

He shrugged. "It is what it is. I've made peace with it."

Still.

"Nothing I can do about it now, so…" he trailed off. He gazed out at the water for a moment.

He always liked the beach. There was something about the unknown that always enticed him. Knowing what he knew now, it was the scientist in him always eager to map out the uncharted. He had a phase early on when he was little where he was obsessed with the ocean, specifically deeper waters. He didn't retain a lot of the information since his degree wiped out most of that knowledge to make room for more, but he still found his chest tugging towards the water. Curious to see what lies beneath the surface.

Now he met someone from the sea. And he felt horrible for not asking more about him but Simon didn't make it easy to learn about him. He was very closed off and guarded for good reason. Now that conversation flowed freely, would Simon give information, now? Now that there was a stable bridge of trust?

"Simon?"

He heard the telltale chime of the merman's spines. He didn't think he could get tired of the sound. It was melodic, almost like a song he'd heard a long time ago and couldn't recall the title of, but it was coated in fondness and nostalgia. The sound reminded him of his hours he spent in the public library as a kid, reading to his heart's content.

He was listening. Ryland slowly leaned some of his weight back on the merman's tail, his arm beginning to throb painfully.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

Simon's eyes had that same conflict as before; debating whether or not he should tell Ryland anything about himself. There was risk in every word and they both knew it. Part of Ryland didn't care anymore. He cared about Simon's well being and safety, but he didn't care about the risk of knowledge. If he was found out, humans could do anything to pry the information out of him and he wouldn't let up. He just needed to know more, needed to understand Simon on more than just a biological level.

The teeth on Simon's face slowly moved, lazy. The merman wrote again.

I don't know. I traveled more often than not for my own safety. Been all over, but I like it here. It's always warm. Other places can be too hot. Sometimes it's too hot here but it's nice most of the time.

So he didn't have a definite location to call home. Maybe the South China Sea, but he'd been all over. Ryland was a homebody. He'd been out of his home state a few times for conferences and such, but there was nothing like a place you could call your own. A place you could walk into and leave the outside troubles at the door, relaxing into your sofa or bed and unwinding from an action-filled day. The boat was definitely not Ryland's apartment; it didn't have the same warm lighting, the cozy blankets in a basket in the corner and the lamps and the books.

He missed home.

"You must've seen a lot of different people. Places. What's your favorite place?"

Again, Simon paused to think. As much as Simon didn't talk, he put a lot of thought behind his answers. Maybe that's why he was quiet all the time. He was trying to get his thoughts together to form a dynamic answer. Ryland's brain worked opposite. If he knew the answer to something, he was spewing it right away and everything else he knew about the topic. It was the way his brain was wired, he guessed. His mom tried to have him tested for ADHD but he refused to take any test. He thought he was normal, fine.

The boat.

Ryland read the sentence again. Simon's handwriting was nice when he wasn't scribbling. He read it again. Simon didn't meet his gaze, staring off to the side instead with a twinge of nervousness in his eyes.

"Out of all the places you've been, you like it here the most?" Ryland asked quietly. He backtracked when Simon's eyes sharpened. "It's not a bad thing! I just… there are so many other places in the world that are better than this. More beautiful. I, for one, would've liked to take residence somewhere near Venice. Or maybe Greece; it's beautiful there from the pictures I've seen. Or maybe somewhere where it's foggy all the time. Maybe England? I just guess I don't understand what you find interesting here, other than a constant food source."

Simon glanced between him and the notepad. Internally debating. He started writing, making sure Ryland couldn't see the notepad. To give him a better sense of privacy, Ryland looked back at the ocean. The moon had risen above the horizon. It was full tonight, bright in the sky beside millions of tiny dots.

Chiming. A poke on his good arm. Ryland's gaze returned to the merman and the notepad. Simon had turned to a new page, the only words written down—

Nice people.

A loaded sentence. The words struck chords in Ryland's heart, knowing it was directed at him, but it also made him curious as to the plural function of people. Did this mean Simon had been observing them for longer than he thought, or had he met another person on the ship? He doubted it, but he couldn't deny that the words mixed with Simon's sudden nervous demeanor made his heart skip happily.

"Oh. Y-Yeah, I guess that's a good thing. You haven't met Carl, have you? He's nice and a bit sarcastic, but he's good."

Ryland watched as Simon shook his head slowly, letting the pen and notepad rest on the large teeth on his tail. His eyes trailed Simon's hand as it came up, his pointer finger resting just above Ryland's heart. The merman was careful to ensure his sharp nail didn't dig into the human's shirt and, consequently, his skin. The pad of his finger rested above Ryland's heartbeat, pressing weakly.

Simon's eyes bore into him. The brown one looked almost as dark as the night sky in the lighting. And the moon cascaded its light on his inky hair, his tan skin, and reflecting on the scales that made up his tail's exterior. The sight of a merman—a fantastical creature by all accounts—had already managed to take Ryland's breath away more than once.

There was something about Simon, something that drew Ryland in from the beginning. He couldn't tell if it was the various amounts of teeth littering his body or the spines that produced beautiful melodies, or if it was his guarded personality that made him want to know more. Or maybe now that Simon had opened up, stopped baring his teeth and finally shown his true colors, Ryland couldn't fathom looking away.

Because below his sharp words and hisses, Simon seemed to be just as caring and kind as he thought Ryland was.

Ryland blinked, realizing it had probably been a good twenty seconds since he'd said something. And Simon's finger was still pressing into his shirt, the merman's eyes confident and sure. Happy, even.

"Me? W-What about me?" he asked dumbly.

Simon gave him a look, pushing his finger down harder against Ryland. His eyes flickered to the notepad.

Oh.

"Oh. I'm nice. Right, we established this," he chuckled, "I already forgot. Sorry."

Simon's gaze lowered to where his finger was touching Ryland's shirt. He seemed almost transfixed by the contact. Frankly, Ryland was, too, because what the hell a merman is touching me and he's so warm I can fall asleep right now. Simon moved to rest his palm on Ryland's chest. An embarrassed flush coated Ryland's cheeks because he knew Simon could feel his racing heartbeat and yet he didn't comment on it, didn't reach for the notepad at all or give him another look.

The other thing that greatly intrigued Ryland's scientific brain was the sheer scale at which Simon existed. Thinking back to other sea creatures, there were ones of all shapes and sizes. Literally, there were microscopic organisms and then there were mammals like whales of gargantuan stature. Humans came in different shapes and sizes, too, but Simon wasn't completely human. It brought more questions of are there other mermaids to Ryland's brain. Surely, there had to be more.

Ryland was reminded just how large Simon was compared to him because his palm covered his heart completely, his fingers resting just above Ryland's collarbone. His hand was massive compared to Ryland's own, and he had a decently firm build throughout his adult life. He was probably the most average you could be as a human, sitting near six feet tall with broad-ish shoulders and abnormally good leg and core strength.

Simon, in comparison, was built. His shoulders were broad, his torso chiseled from a lifetime of swimming and fighting. His tail was long, obviously, but if Ryland had to estimate a length, he would put it somewhere near ten feet. Of course, he wouldn't know exact measurement until he conducted extended research with Simon's permission, but it sounded accurate enough. He wondered if Simon grew up in the deep sea since he had to squint his other eye all the time, and all the different teeth littering his tail, possibly there for defensive reasons.

The spines moved, creating a slower melody as Simon's brows furrowed.

"That's my heart you're feeling."

Simon gave his signature duh look. Since he was so close, Ryland couldn't help but study the teeth on his face and how they opened and closed, like they were curious, too. And the teeth-looking things just below Simon's hips. It almost looked like another mouth or something. Another question of deep-sea evolution that he'd ask later when he wasn't so tired. In the meantime, he was trying desperately not to fall asleep with the warmth of the merman trapped around him.

"You've got one, too, obviously. Is it in the same spot, or…? Did you grow up in the deep sea? Is that why you have so many teeth?"

Simon's spines moved absentmindedly as he continued to stare. Yeah, probably not a good time to ask. A yawn overtook Ryland. He inhaled deeply, raising his hand to cover his mouth. He hadn't brushed his teeth yet, and after a fishy dinner, he didn't want to push his breath towards Simon's nose.

"I'll save those questions for later. I think it's time to hit the hay, or maybe coral in your case? The thing Nemo and his dad lives in?" Ryland said before shaking his head after Simon sent another confused look. "It's well past my bedtime and my body's still recovering, so… I'm gonna go crash. It was… it was good seeing you again, Simon. Good catching up."

Simon didn't let him move. His fingers grasped the collar of Ryland's shirt, his eyes flickering to Ryland's arm in the sling. Ryland swallowed back the questions that threatened to spill, the flush that overtook his cheeks again.

"Um, I'll come back tomorrow, if you want? If that's okay."

Simon nodded.

"I'll bring the laptop this time. Promise I won't forget."

Simon reluctantly let go, though Ryland could still feel the warmth and weight of Simon's palm resting above his heart. He grasped the notepad and pen to scribble a note.

Your injuries healing okay?

God, he was a big teddy bear deep down, wasn't he?

"Oh, yeah, it's going good. It's just using most of my energy so I get tired easily. Nothing to be worried about, it's normal," Ryland reassured with a nod and a smile. "Thanks for the concern. I'll be back tomorrow, okay?"

Simon tapped the notepad insistently.

"What was that?"

Could stay here if you're tired. Can always write, using the spines takes energy.

"Oh. Oh, well uh… t-thanks for the offer, but I've also gotta get some painkillers. And maybe a shower. Humans are so high maintenance, aren't they?" he laughed, ignoring how fast his heart raced at the thought that Simon wanted him to stay. To watch over him. "How about I meet you after breakfast? Bring you some more food? Anything in particular you'd want?"

Simon's lips may or may not have pulled down into a frown. It was a difficult to tell with his constant stoic expression. Smiles were easier to point out. Ryland's heart twisted.

"I'll be back. Goodnight, Simon," he yawned, staggering to his feet.

He stepped over Simon's tail only for Simon to wrap the end of his tail around his ankle. Ryland paused, looking back at the merman. His eyes were skittish as the teeth on his chest slowly opening. Ryland watched, exhaustion evaporating for a moment in favor of curiosity. Simon reached into his chest cavity, making a gross squelching sound. Ryland cringed but couldn't look away as Simon pulled something out of it.

He held it out. A lanyard.

Ryland's brow furrowed as he took it, fingers running along the familiar blue lanyard covered in a mix of saliva and water. He lifted it to his eyes, his middle school ID photo staring back at him.

"I…" he stammered, absolutely gobsmacked. He'd already replaced his ID over a week ago after Stratt found him walking around without it. She gave him her signature what the hell happened look before giving him a new ID the next day. He didn't think much else of the ID he lost after that.

But Simon found it. He kept it.

Ryland was starkly reminded of their first encounter, after Ryland accidentally hit him. Simon's eyes had flashed with recognition. Ryland had wrote it off as something else, like hatred or anger, but no. Simon had recognized him from his ID.

Was that why he saved him? Not just because he treated Simon with kindness, but because Simon had formed some sort of… attachment to him? If so, why? Why him?

"You have… how did you get this?" he asked dumbly, knowing full well how Simon got it. "I-I lost it like two or three weeks ago now."

Simon hurriedly picked up the notepad. Saw it in the water when following the ship. Was intrigued. Didn't know I'd run into you.

He scrapped the stupid idea of some sort of parasocial relationship. Simon didn't interact with humans much, anyway, which invalidated the idea. But he had no reason to keep the ID aside from curiosity. And from what he'd learned earlier, Simon had been watching the boat for a while, now. He knew something was different with this ship, how the priorities of the humans weren't with what was in the water but far above it. He followed because it was safe. He wasn't on the chopping block.

Ryland didn't know what to think.

"Um… thanks," he said. Simon met his eyes hesitantly, like he was expecting Ryland to snap. "I have a new ID, but this one's cool. Like a memory or relic of our impromptu first meeting. Well, you met me first."

He pointed at his picture. Simon managed a sliver of a smile, the teeth on his face wiggling a little.

"I'll uh, see you tomorrow, Simon. Good night, and thanks for keeping it safe for me."

Simon let his tail retract from Ryland's ankle, nodding and letting the spines chime a soft tune as he put his tail back in the water.

Ryland retreated to his shared room with a deep sigh, staring at the digital clock on his desk. Near two in the morning. He put his old, mucus soaked lanyard on his desk and shed his coat, remembering how Simon pulled the jacket back over his shoulder. His chest warmed at the memory.

He couldn't wait until tomorrow.

"Dr. Grace."

Ryland paused scarfing down his breakfast as Stratt took a seat in front of him. His heart leapt to his throat. He had almost never seen her in the cafeteria during the early hours of breakfast. She only showed up during lunch and dinner.

He finished chewing his eggs and swallowed, eyeing her warily. "Stratt. Morning."

"How are you feeling? You look a little pale."

Truth be told, Ryland always got sick pretty easily, which sucked when he was a teacher. Schools were like cesspools of germs and sickness. Almost every first week and last week of each semester, his poor immune system fought for its life. Falling into the ocean had done a number on his body, sure, as that first night he slept a good ten hours or so. He didn't feel that bad, though there was a scratchiness to his throat that water wasn't helping cease.

Maybe it was Simon. He didn't know enough about the merman to determine if it was him, but he could theorize. He'd never interacted with something (presumably) from the deep sea before.

"Eh, been better, you know?" he said, busying himself with another mouthful of eggs. Coming up with an excuse to escape and grab some more fish from the kitchen. "Can't complain. I'm alive."

"Yes," she said, clasping her hands on the table. "You have been acting a bit strange since the fall."

"Falling from, like, two-hundred feet will do that to you."

"You evade your friends."

"I've got work to do."

"Even Carl."

"He's a great lab assistant. And I'm not avoiding them."

Stratt sighed. "You're here early."

"Like I said, got work to do. Early start," he said.

"Where did you disappear to last night?"

Ryland stilled. Stratt continued staring, unfazed. Confident, as always. Brash in nature.

"My room," he said slowly. He glanced down at his arm. "Stupid arm's been bugging me. Figured I'd get some sleep and start early today."

Stratt almost looked disappointed by his answer. It only made Ryland's heart beat thrum in his veins violently.

God, what if she found out about Simon? Was that why she looked so serious, so… demanding? Even more so than usual?

"Strange… one of my guards tells me that he saw you walking in the opposite direction. With a box of fish."

He thought he was careful, but Simon was right. They'd established this over a week ago. Ryland visiting him was actively putting him in danger and he was going to reap the consequences. Everything in his body told him to run, to find Simon and tell him to hide, to run, to get out of here and not come back for his own safety.

Stratt's eyes dissected him in the fluorescent lighting. She must've found something in his eyes, for she leaned forward.

"Dr. Grace. Is there something you're not telling me?" she asked in a sigh. "We have hundreds of scientists and engineers on this project. If you've found something, we need to know about it. This is no place to hide findings. We certainly don't have time to conduct hidden experiments when we have other people to help expedite the process."

Ryland took a sip of water to try and calm himself, thankful for the cool wave the drink brought over his body. "I'm not… I haven't found anything. Yeah, I'm still testing and observing, but there's nothing I've found that we don't already know."

"So then what's with the fish?"

Ryland bit the inside of his cheek. How was he going to make this sound believable when Stratt hardly believed anything he said (non-scientific related)?

"I'm eating. Is that so bad?"

"A whole box of fish."

"Yes. You know how long I stay in the lab."

Stratt's brows furrowed. "But they weren't cooked. Where would you have prepared them?"

Why did she have to be so thorough? Ryland had eaten maybe half of his breakfast. It would have to be enough. He dropped his fork and dabbed a napkin on the corners of his mouth.

"Bunsen burner," he said simply as he stood, shrugging his left arm into his coat and ignoring Stratt's pointed gaze. He shrugged his backpack onto the same shoulder. "Astrophage isn't gonna study itself. Gotta go."

"Dr. Grace—"

"Suns to save, Stratt!" he called as he retreated.

Ryland had to be careful. He sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to steal fish without someone snitching on him. Maybe he could go fishing with Simon. That could be a unique bonding experience. Simon ate fish. He didn't seem too attached.

He walked quickly through the waking ship, passing by crew members suppressing yawns and heading to the cafeteria. Some people he saw wearing flight suits, holding helmets in one hand and drinks in another. People kept going in and out of the ship, Ryland could never keep up with who was where and who was who.

He approached the lower deck with a pep in his step. The laptop weighed heavily in the backpack. He had made a list of questions to ask Simon before going to bed, but knowing him, he would get sidetracked by one thing and end up focusing on that. Still, it was nice to have a guideline to attempt to follow.

He turned the corner, finding Simon lying on the deck with his tail in the water. The box of fish from last night was still there, about halfway empty. The sun had risen just above the water, casting the merman in a warm orange glow. Ryland watched, feeling both like a creep and like an underqualified marine biologist, as Simon's spines moved. They made faint echoes of noise, not clinking together.

Ryland carefully shrugged his backpack off and lowered himself to sit criss-cross a few feet away. He opened the laptop, typing in his password and opening the translator app. He coughed to clear his throat.

"Good morning, Simon."

The merman jolted, rolling over to hiss before relaxing, his eyes landing on Ryland. Ryland offered a smile.

"Brought the computer, like I said I would."

A few of the spines moved at once.

"Wow, you remembered."

Ryland chuckled. "Early morning sarcasm. Noted."

Simon rolled his eyes and sat up. He scanned Ryland and his backpack. "No fish?"

"Oh, uh… yeah, I meant to grab some but my boss is uh—" he rubbed the back of his neck "—she's catching onto something. Asked me where I was last night. I have a dozen questions but I think we need to talk about that first."

"About what?" Simon asked. His brows furrowed as he tipped his nose higher. "And why do you smell weird? Like sweat?"

"Think I might be getting sick. No big deal. And we need to talk about our meetings. Because you've been right about them from the start. It's dangerous for you, and now Stratt's close to finding out and I don't know how she'll react if she sees you."

Simon glowered. "She won't see me. I'm careful, always have been before I met you."

Ryland tried not to think about the implication that Simon's grown reckless after meeting him. He didn't want that, didn't want Simon to put himself in danger just because Ryland can't contain his curiosity. They were back at square one.

"I know, but still. I don't want anything to happen to you because of me."

"Nothing's gonna happen," the merman said. He grabbed a fish from the old box and raised it to the teeth by his mouth. They greedily took the fish, chomping it. "What else did you want to ask me?"

Ryland sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "My questions can wait. If we're gonna keep being friends, we need to come up with some sort of like, code or something. To make sure it's us, not anyone else."

"I know what your footsteps sound like. Are you gonna ask your science stuff or not?"

"Simon."

"Ryland."

Okay, that caught him off guard. Simon hadn't used his name at all before. He'd introduced himself when they created the translator, insisting Grace was the easier name to call him by. Hardly ever did he hear anyone call him by his first name. Heat flooded his veins, his cheeks. Simon seemed to grin at the reaction.

"We can't afford to be careless. Your life is more important than my curiosity."

"It's going to be fine, Ryland," Simon said slowly, as if he were trying to engrave the words into Ryland's brain. "Come on, you've been itching to ask these questions for a while. Maybe we'll both learn something."

Ryland huffed, opening the document on his laptop that contained his questionnaire. "Are all mermaids this stubborn?"

"Maybe."

"That doesn't tell me anything."

"That wasn't one of your questions," Simon replied with a smirk as he ate another fish.

"Fine, okay, first question. What part of the ocean were you born, or grow up?"

Simon looked at the water. "Deep. Nearly pitch black."

Ryland typed, making a note to do more research on lower ocean levels later. "So you probably have some sort of deep pressure resistance. Evolution is pretty cool, huh? Okay, what about the teeth? Or spines?"

Simon moved to lie on his side, resting his hand under his head. "What about them?"

"Are the ones on your chest and upper-mid tail for eating or… storing?"

"Both."

"Wow. So do you have multiple stomachs or multiple pathways to one?"

The spines on Simon's tail opened like a maw. Thankfully, the sun was amazing natural lighting and allowed him to see in the vast pit that was his inside.

"Man, I wish they make portable x-ray machines. I'd love to scan you, see if you have bones and joints in your tail." Ryland typed up his findings. He stared at Simon for a moment, causing the merman to raise a brow. "Can I take a closer look at your eyes?"

"My eyes?" Simon asked, his body tensing a bit.

Ryland raised his hands in surrender. "They're different colors. I have a theory as to why you need to squint the left one, but I need to be sure."

Simon sat for a moment, considering, before sitting up and scooting close enough for his tail to brush Ryland's feet. Ryland gently set his laptop aside, raising his left hand. Simon watched every move intently, the teeth on his face opening slightly, as if anticipating danger.

"Just uh, hold still for me. Okay?" Ryland requested.

Simon seemed to be fighting instinct, the feeling etched in his bones that screamed whenever humans got close. Danger danger danger, it was screaming at him. Ryland was careful, bringing his left hand up to Simon's left eye, using his fingers to open the eye wider. It caused Simon's brown eye to close involuntarily.

Simon didn't move an inch. The red eye dilated a bit with the exposure to light, allowing Ryland to see a translucent lid near the right corner of Simon's eye. The discovery lit a fire in Ryland, a wave of happiness washing over him as his theory was proven right.

"I was right! You have what's called a nictitating membrane. It's like a third eyelid. It's supposed to keep your eye moist. They're like goggles in a way, so you can keep your eyes open while you're underwater without issue. Or, in this case, just your left eye. Fascinating. I've never seen one in person before. And they move horizontally instead of vertically, like a normal eyelid."

Simon steadily relaxed as Ryland's hand delicately cupped his jaw, tilting his head in the different lighting to see the membrane at work. Ryland was too focused on the discovery to notice Simon's growing contentment, the way he kind of melted a little into the touch.

"You truly are remarkable, Simon. And your ears. You can hear normally with them, I presume?"

"Yes. Hand cold."

He retracted his hand to frantically type before his brain forgot and moved on to a different topic. Then, he paused, looking back at the merman.

"My hand's cold?" he said.

Simon nodded, staring right at him. "Felt nice."

"I thought you said you liked these warm waters."

"My body runs hot. Makes it feel miserable sometimes. Come up here to cool off," Simon said, tapping the deck with his sharp finger.

"Thermoregulation issues. Got it. And your tail. I'm curious about the spines. You can control them manually?"

"Yes, dumbass."

Ryland glowered. "I don't have all the answers, Simon. That's why we're having a fun research day."

"You call this fun?" Simon questioned, his mutant jaw opening wide.

"For me, it is. What about your jaw? Can you control that?"

"Not always. They're hungry. There for intimidation."

"I see… and the fins near the bottom of your tail don't look like that of a whale or stereotypical merman. More like the ends of flounder, though they're sharper. How do you travel?"

"I think you call them snakes or eels. Move side to side instead of up and down, like whales," Simon explained as he moved his tail accordingly.

"No wonder you're always hungry, then. That must use up, like, ninety-percent of your energy for the day."

"Sleep a lot when you're not here. Eat, too."

Ryland jotted notes. Sleep a lot, low energy, sea-floor travel. All so interesting, all so intriguing to put together. "Are you tired now? Did you get sleep last night?"

"I'm fine."

"If you say so." Ryland's stomach decided the silence would be a good time to remind him that he hadn't finished his breakfast in full. It growled, the noise causing Simon to perk up. Ryland put his hand over his stomach as if it would stop it. "Sorry. Didn't finish my breakfast after my boss interrogated me. But let's keep going—"

"You're hungry," Simon said pointedly.

"Yeah, but I can wait."

"You're skinny."

Ryland huffed indignantly. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean I'm starving myself. I eat food."

Simon studied him for a moment before huffing, the teeth on his jaw retracting. "If you say so," he said, the voice on the computer having an absurd amount of sarcasm attached to the statement that Ryland ignored.

Just then, Ryland's stomach growled again. He leaned down to whisper, "shut up."

Simon's eyes bore into him. He looked at the water. "Wait here."

"What the—Simon!" he called after the merman as he dove into the water. He watched the waves continue to ripple. He couldn't see Simon anymore. "Dang it. At least a few of my questions are answered, now. Can help him better."

He typed up a few more follow-up questions. In the meantime, he kept peeking at the water. Nothing. He resigned himself to staring at the water. Waiting. Listening to the waves crash into the ship and the propeller at work.

He checked over his shoulder just to be safe. Nobody there. Still, he worried Stratt sent someone after him. Especially after her interrogation that morning. She was onto him and knowing how thorough she was, he needed to be extra careful. As much as he wanted to visit Simon every day, it might have to be a once a week kind of deal. Just to be safe.

Simon might not like it, and neither did he, but Ryland felt responsible now for Simon's well-being since he was the human of the equation. He would be the one to bring another human here and, consequently, hurt Simon.

Part of him wanted to stop it. To stop going to the bottom of the ship all together because Simon would be safe if he did. Nobody would check down there but every once in a while instead of following Dr. Grace on his evenings to see a fish-man every night.

The other part of him saw Simon's humorous and trusting gaze. His worry. Almost like he wanted to have someone to talk to but didn't want to admit it to himself. It made sense; Simon was very independent and didn't need anyone to do anything for him. He was strong.

He proved his point immediately when Simon suddenly emerged from the water. He quite literally jumped onto the deck, something tucked under his arm. Ryland had to cover the laptop with his jacket, a splash of water soaking into him.

"Well hello to you, too."

Simon pointed at the fish he had under his arm. "Food."

Ryland leaned forward. He had no idea what kind of fish it was. It was big, though, bigger than his thigh. It must've come from a decent depth. Looking at Simon, the merman looked exhausted. His eyes blinked slowly, his posture slumping and his tail flopping against the side of the boat. Like a human would anxiously bounce their leg.

One thing's for certain. It stank.

"Oh, uh… that's cool. How far down did you go to get that? You usually hunt?" Ryland asked, trying to distract himself of the smell.

He locked onto Simon's spines moving.

"Not too far. Could still see the boat."

He watched Simon raise a sharp nail and press into the fish. Yup, he would be hearing those squelching sounds in his dreams tonight. Still, he continued to observe as Simon cut out a portion of fish. He took it in his hand and placed it in Ryland's lap.

Ryland stilled. Looking at it. Raw fish.

"Um…"

Simon tilted his head to the side. His eyes flickered from the fish to Ryland. Unmoving. Expectant.

Ryland exhaled deeply. Shit. He picked up the fish, cringing at the stain on his jeans. He raised it to his eye level.

"It's raw. I-I dunno how much you know about food safety—"

Simon kept staring. Quietly observing. Ryland suddenly understood exactly how Simon must've felt when conducting their little research day.

Well… he was already on track to getting sick. What harm could it do? That, and maybe it would get Simon to stop staring like he was going to eat Ryland instead of the fish.

Despite everything in him telling him to not eat it, he tentatively took a bite. His eyes widened as he chewed.

"Hey, this is some pretty good tuna!" he said. He took another bite. "Not half bad."

Simon smiled softly and cut himself a piece of the fish to snack on. He cut up another portion and put it in the same spot on Ryland's lap. He ignored thoughts about parasites and continued to eat because damn was he hungry. Simon's spines chimed but no voice came through. Ryland grabbed the computer.

"Okay, what can you tell me about eating habits? You like fish, clearly. Anything else?" Ryland asked as he woke up the laptop.

"Meat."

As if that wasn't ominous as all hell.

"Okay… so no greens?"

Simon shook his head as he ate.

"And what about hunting? You caught that fish. Do you usually do that?"

"No. Usually lie on ocean floor resting." Simon pointed at the spikes by his hips and the ones on his chest. "Dormant until fish come by. Snatch them."

"Interesting. So you are pretty low energy all the time, then. How many hours a day would you say you're awake?"

"Around four. Maybe five if I push a bit."

Wow. So Simon was really tired all the time. It had to be related to food consumption, right? Assuming he lived in deep deep waters, what kind of nutrients was he getting? Weren't a lot of deep sea creatures small? Or was he thinking of plankton? He had seen a few videos of giant squids, so maybe size wasn't as big of a factor as he was making it.

But Simon needed a lot of rest. Interesting. The merman himself was already captivating, but so was his biology.

Simon went to plop another piece of tuna in Ryland's lap, but he stopped the merman with a raised hand.

"I'm good. So—"

"Eat."

Ryland stared. "Huh?"

"You said you're hungry. Eat."

Oh.

Oh.

Did Simon go hunting… to get him something to eat?

Ryland flushed from head to toe. "I-I'm good now, I promise! That tuna was really good!"

Simon glowered at him, his eyes raking Ryland's body before huffing. He fed the tuna to his face teeth. "More for me, then."

"You probably need it more than me from what you just said. Need all the nutrients."

Ryland couldn't look away from the teeth if he tried. He watched them chow down on the tuna, careful not to waste a single bite. They moved surprisingly slow, carefully. He typed up a little note about them, adding a question about whether or not it's because of how Simon seemed to be low-energy all the time.

"What about you? You're a toothpick. Do you eat?"

Ryland barked out a laugh, looking up to see Simon's playful gaze rested on him. "Ha ha, you're hilarious. I'm not a toothpick!"

"Yes you are. Skinny."

"I eat!"

"What, zooplankton?"

"Oh, you've got jokes, now?"

Simon's lips slowly curled into a smile, even as the teeth on his cheek chewed the tuna. Ryland's chest bubbled with chuckles, though he couldn't look away from the merman's smile. He was beginning to think that Simon was less of a merman and more of a siren, his call being his smile and bleeding heart, caring for a human when he clearly hated them to some degree. Allowing Ryland to learn more about him, letting Ryland into his world even though they both knew it could end in bloodshed.

He hadn't realized Simon had been chuckling, too, until he stopped. It was like someone put a speaker to his chest, Simon's chuckles rumbling and low that traveled through his body in a wave. Simon had paused to stare back. Eyes neither sharp or round. Just staring.

"So, um…" Ryland started, coughing to clear his throat, which incidentally turned into a coughing fit. He suddenly felt chills running down his body, an ache in his eyes. The coughs rattled his chest. He took a deep breath as it subsided, finding Simon's tail wrapped around him and the merman leaning close, brows furrowed.

"Okay? What's happening?" Simon asked.

"S-Sorry." His body shivered, goosebumps crawling along his skin. He pulled his jacket closer. "Think I really am getting sick. Just didn't think it would hit me so soon."

He closed his eyes and took deep breaths. Even though he was shivering, he felt hot. Probably a fever incoming. God, he hated being sick. He hated the sore throat, the stuffy and runny nose, the involuntary watering eyes. And oh how he dreaded headaches. He felt one beginning to form—the worst kind, the one right behind his eyes—and he couldn't hold back a huff as he massaged the bridge of his nose.

He could feel Simon's tail curling around him tighter.

Ryland jumped, feeling something really warm press against his forehead. He peeled his eyes open. Simon was closer, close enough to where Ryland could see the yellow-ish tint of the teeth on his cheek, much different than that of his regular teeth he saw earlier. The back of Simon's hand rested on his forehead.

Even though Ryland's body was caught between hot and cold, he couldn't stop himself from melting a little into the obscene amount of warmth radiating from the merman. He was like a giant campfire in a merman's body. Ryland's shoulders slumped, a deep exhale escaping his lips as Simon's hand trailed from his forehead to his jaw, effectively holding his face up since he didn't seem to want to do it anymore.

"Should go to doctors and get medicine," Simon said with a frown. "You're freezing out here. Go inside and rest. Can ask me about mutations later."

"But—"

"No. Should go."

"I don't want to leave," Ryland muttered. It might've been his feverish brain but he wanted to stay in Simon's coil. He was so warm and kind of like a giant pillow to where Ryland dreaded standing up and going back to his room. "Don't want to."

"Come on. You'll get sicker if you stay here."

"You're so warm…"

Simon's hand froze where it rested against his jaw. Ryland's eyes fluttered, struggling to stay open, especially with the sea breeze rolling past. A thought passed his brain that made him snicker, unable to hold it back because who was Ryland Grace if a cheeky bastard?

"I'm cold, you're warm; I need warm you need cold. If I stay here, we're helping each other out."

"If you stay, you're gonna freeze when the sun sets."

"Simoooon—"

"Ryland. Go back home." Simon tapped his finger against Ryland's forehead, careful not to scratch him with his sharp nail. "Sick human scientist is no good human scientist. I'll be here."

Ryland sighed, opening his eyes. He didn't know how long they were closed. He glanced behind Simon at the sky. The sun was slowly inching towards the horizon, it's bright yellow glow casting upon the sea. As much as he wanted to be childish and refute Simon's statement, he knew he was right. Of course he was. The breeze mixed with the darkness in his state, mixed with the fact that he did not have adequate attire for the chilly weather, would do him more harm than good.

He didn't want to go. He wanted to spend more time with Simon. He was just getting to know the merman more. But he knew Simon was right, and he knew himself good enough to realize that he was going to sabotage his future self if he stayed.

"Ugh, fine," he groaned. Ryland reluctantly pulled away from Simon's hand cradling his jaw. Simon's teeth wiggled a little. Ryland smiled at them, unable to stop his intrusive thoughts from gently running his finger along them. The teeth stopped for a moment before continuing to move, opening slightly. "So fascinating."

Simon's eyes stared at him, wide. Disbelieving. Ryland couldn't blame him. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Simon probably had some self-confidence issues regarding his mutations. Simon didn't stick around with humans, but he no doubt disliked something about himself. If Ryland were in his shoes, he'd probably feel the same, especially knowing how other humans can be. Shameful, bullying because someone didn't look the same as them.

But Ryland didn't care about looks. Not entirely. Simon was a scientific enigma, sure, that was part of the reason Ryland was so infatuated with him. The other thing was that Simon was so heartfelt even if he didn't really show it outright. He showed it in his own way, a protector of himself and the lone human who decided the merman was his new friend.

"You really are cool, Simon," he said slowly, retracting his hand. He felt one of Simon's fins digging into his back. "You're right, I should go. Who knows if mer-people can get sick, too?"

Simon blinked before rolling his eyes, leaning back and taking all the heat with him. "Immune system ten times better than yours."

"If you say so."

Ryland started collecting the laptop and his limited belongings, making sure his jacket was zipped up at least three-fourths of the way. He felt Simon's eyes on him the entire time. It wasn't the same as feeling dozens of people's eyes on him, waiting for answers about Astrophage because for some reason Stratt can't have labs with solid walls. Sure, labs didn't have to have four plain walls but it would be nice to have some decency when working thirty-five hours straight in the lab. Not that Ryland cared about appearance that much on the vat. Everyone looked dead on their feet regardless of the time of day.

It was nice. Comforting, even, knowing he'd finally made a friend out of Simon to where the merman was watching him pack with conflicted eyes. Wanting to talk more, ask more questions and learn. But Ryland's pain meds were due for another round and his stomach was starting to growl again, even though he'd been given some good quality fish earlier.

"Guess I'll see you later, Simon," Ryland said with a tired smile. He nodded at the merman and carefully stepped out of the coil of his tail, shoulders weighing heavy. Visiting Simon was arguably the best part about being on the ship, but at the same time, Ryland couldn't help but feel guilty that his priorities had become split between studying Astrophage and Simon. Saving the sun and fueling his selfish curiosity.

He wasn't entirely selfish if Simon wanted to talk, too, right?

Still, their sun was dying and there he was, taking what could've been precious lab time to talk to his friend. As much as he wanted to keep talking to Simon, there was a global crisis at hand.

"Ryland," the computer voice called.

He jumped, forgetting that the laptop wasn't entirely closed. He turned, seeing Simon with his tail over the edge and upper body leaning towards Ryland. Like he wanted to follow. The merman's eyes raked over him once. Twice. The silence between them stretched on even though the ocean kept roaring, the Earth kept spinning. Brown and red bore into blue.

Ryland didn't know Simon very well, but the look he was giving him was reminiscent to that of someone who was scared but didn't want to show it. There was the underlying fear coated in his eyes. For what? What did Simon have to be scared of?

He took that thought back immediately. Simon had a shit ton to be scared of. There were dozens of humans on the ship that would probably kill him no questions asked, or worse, cut him up for parts. Or take him away to be a lab rat in some aquarium or something. But the hesitance in Simon's gaze didn't feel related to being caught. It felt personal. Worried for Ryland instead of himself.

"Two days?"

Ryland nodded. "Two days."

"Don't get skinnier."

He couldn't hold back a snicker as Simon flashed a cheeky grin.

"Like I can become skin and bones in two days."

"You never know." Simon shrugged, his eyes turning sober. "Just get rest. Don't overdo it."

Ryland's grin faltered into a softer smile, giving Simon a curt nod. "I won't. Promise."

Simon's hair danced with the breeze as he turned to face the lowering sun. Ryland stared at him for a moment, taking in the sight of the merman in the pastel light. Simon was sharp, defensive, and yet in the sun's glow, he almost looked human. He was, in his own way.

Ryland shook his head and slowly made his way back up to his room to drop off his laptop. He stayed in his room for a few minutes to take his medication, dreading having to go to the cafeteria. No doubt people were beginning to file in for dinner and he did not feel like dealing with anyone. Particularly Stratt. He didn't want to talk to anyone—just eat and go to bed for a real early lab day tomorrow.

He made it to the cafeteria without issue. It was when he was looking for a place to sit that he spotted the possibility of an issue. The usual suspects were sitting together—Yao, Ilyukhina, DuBois, Shapiro, and two people Ryland didn't know the names of but had seen them hanging around the astronauts. Near the exit, he saw Carl and Stratt sitting together. Not talking, just eating, but a noticeable presence nonetheless.

Ryland found an empty table close to the dish return and scarfed down his food. He didn't even care that he didn't savor the taste of mashed potatoes and gravy, green beans, and ham. He ate as quickly as possible, which for him was around five to ten minutes, and headed to the dish return. He was grateful that no one approached him as he headed back to the exit. Though, as he passed the buffet line again, he couldn't help but snag a cupcake from the dessert bar.

He kept his head down as he started towards the exit, hoping and praying that Stratt and Carl would remain locked into their food instead of the environment around them.

"Dr. Grace."

Goddammit. Why me?

Of course, he never had the best luck. Ryland paused in his tracks and turned to see Stratt and Carl looking at him. Stratt, impassive as always, though he could see glimmering curiosity in her eyes. Same with Carl.

"Heeeey, guys," he drawled, hoping he was hiding his disdain well. Most likely, he was failing miserably. That was the one thing he had luck with—the fact that Stratt didn't care about bluntness or sarcas, being directed at her. Hell, sometimes he thought she thrived on it. "How's it going? You guys see the cupcakes? They've really outdone themselves back there."

"Had two already," Carl said.

Ryland couldn't resist holding his fist out for a fist bump, which Carl thankfully returned.

"You've been missing all day," Stratt said calmly, always with her shoulders straight and chin high. "Guards say you were not in your lab. No one's seen you since yesterday."

"Can a man not have some solitude?"

"For over twenty-four hours?"

"Dudes need their privacy, right, man?" he said, looking to Carl for backup.

Carl nodded. "Some alone time does some good. Helps clear the brain."

"Exactly! Thank you."

Stratt sighed. "As much as I understand your… need for free time, we are on a time constraint. We don't have time. We're quickly running out of it. We need all hands on deck here."

"And I understand that. I'm going back to my lab bright and early tomorrow so no need to send any guards tailing after me like I'm fourteen and sneaking out. I'm still recovering, in case you've forgotten."

"You've been well enough to be somewhere outside of your quarters and lab."

"Solitude, Stratt. Helps me get over roadblocks." Ryland took a bite out of the cupcake. Vanilla with buttercream frosting and graham cracker crumbles on top. Carl was right, he needed to steal two more immediately. "See ya tomorrow."

"Dr. Grace," Stratt said.

He paused again, feeling like a child trying to retreat back to their bedroom. He met her steeled gaze.

"I don't need to remind you what's at stake here. Get back to work."

He raised his hand in a mock salute, offering a tired smile before high-tailing it out of there before he said something he'd regret. She didn't need to remind him, and her saying that only made his blood boil. It wasn't like he was casting aside Astrophage study for Simon, even if it felt like it. He knew he had to get back to work. He knew he'd have no issue catching up with whatever he missed. Hearing her say that was like hearing a parent tell you to do the dishes as you're doing them. It makes him want to do it less.

As he walked back to his room, he thought about his students. Their bright smiles as they came into his classroom every day. He thought about Simon below deck, originally following the ship for food and a platform to cool off. He was fighting for them specifically, not just humanity and Earth.

Ryland was good at channeling his anger into work. Screw going to bed. He changed course, headed directly for his lab.

He was starting early.

Days blurred between throwing himself to work in the lab and eagerly walking down below deck to visit his favorite merman.

Astrophage research was developing nicely, as was his profile on Simon's biology. It took a bit of extra research on the side into marine animals and their biology, but he liked to think he was a merman expert by month two of knowing Simon. Simon thought otherwise, giving him an eye roll whenever he gloated about his detailed document where he stored all knowledge of Simon.

Ryland's arm and ribs were healing nicely, though some days the cast was itchy and annoying and he wanted nothing more than to rip it off. The headaches were less frequent, though he had a suspicion that they were only happening because of his shit sleep schedule and lack of water intake. Sue him, he was busy. Stars to save, mermen to talk to.

He knew Stratt was becoming more suspicious of his behavior. He didn't think he was acting any different aside from less visits to the cafeteria in favor of scientific endeavor. Still, Ryland kept his tired eyes peeled for her men she no doubt sent to watch him, making sure to "take a walk" around top deck if he was going to visit Simon. He had to get them off his trial, and most of the time, he liked to think he succeeded. It didn't make him feel any better, though, knowing he was being observed. Tracked.

It made him feel like a petulant child pouting in his house because Mom took away the Xbox.

Ryland buried himself in work, in helping design zero gravity tools, helping with experiments on Astrophage, all of it. He missed this kind of work after being kicked out of professional academia, but he couldn't deny that he didn't miss the exhaustion that came with it. Hours spent pouring over one problem to not have a definitive answer by the end of it. It was how science worked, he knew all too well, but he was just impatient, especially considering their time constraint. They didn't have time to wait months for answers. They needed to come up with solutions based on answers they could get now and it wasn't happening as fast as they needed it to.

But, it was just how science worked.

Three months after he met Simon, the cast came off, and Ryland finally felt like things were getting back to normal. He celebrated by bringing Simon some food from the cafeteria, including some sort of sausage that Simon took a bite of, making his red eye widen considerably. Simon chowed down on the food, leaving Ryland to make a mental note to find out what kind of sausage that was.

The two day rule remained in place the entire time, much to Ryland's dismay. He wanted to see his friend every day. He wanted to hear Simon's sarcastic responses, his eye rolls whenever Ryland said something he thought was dumb, his small but rare smiles. He wanted to hear Simon talk about his love for sleeping, for basking in the sun's warmth on the deck of the ship.

Never did Ryland think he'd become close friends with a merman, but here he was. Walking down to meet Simon as the sun hung high in the sky for the early afternoon. He'd worked most of the night away looking over blueprints, checking other people's work and theories and giving feedback. He made sure to stop by the cafeteria for an early lunch (luckily avoiding most of the crowd, including Stratt), and snagging Simon some french fries to snack on.

He made is way down to the deck, always pronouncing his footsteps the closer he got to their meetup spot. As he approached, he could already see the merman sprawled on the deck, eyes closed as he soaked up the sun. Ryland paused, observing, like always. It was a shame, he thought, that Simon technically lived in the deep depths. His skin was so tan in the sun, practically glowing gold. Like the sun's favorite child. And he looked so content. Calm and peaceful up where the sun's warmth could seep into him.

Though, Ryland remembered, the merman ran hot. He was coming on deck to cool off. Whatever.

Ryland tapped his foot on the metal floor hard two times. Simon peeled his brown eye open, glancing at him lazily.

"Hey, big guy. Got you some food," Ryland said as he sat a few inches away from Simon, placing the plastic bag he stuffed the fries into in between them. He opened the laptop as Simon slowly sat up. "So, what do you wanna talk about today?"

Simon was moving a bit slower. He looked tired. Maybe he didn't get enough sleep, or enough food. Ryland would have to try and sneak some more food from the cafeteria whenever he visited. He had a feeling the kitchen staff was onto his antics, though. They started glancing at him for way longer than necessary whenever he came in.

Simon popped a few fries in his mouth. "Dunno. Said a lot last time."

"Yeah, you did."

"What do you want to talk about?"

Ryland shrugged. "I can talk about anything but I figured I'd open up the deck to mutual discussion."

Simon's half-lidded gaze rested on him. "What about the project? How is progress looking?"

"Oh. It's not that bad. We've gotten a lot done in the last three months. We've developed most of the zero gravity equipment blueprints and started production on them, so hopefully by the time we're off this ship we'll be able to test them in simulated zero-g. Astrophage is figured out. At least, I'd like to think it is. We've thrown everything at it and recorded the results, so."

"When does the ship dock?"

"Scheduled to dock in Vietnam soon. Within the next month or so, I dunno the exact date. And then from there, I don't know."

Simon chewed slowly, eyes flittering back to the ocean. "You miss home?"

A bittersweet sadness hit Ryland square in the chest thinking about San Francisco. He didn't mind living in the city. He liked it, actually. He liked being able to walk everywhere and bike everywhere, and he liked having that strange relationship with people where you recognize them as they walk by but don't know anything about them. It's a routine you both have where you cross each other's paths for a split second every day, headed to work or breakfast or wherever, even if you know nothing about each other. It was a small comfort, like when Ryland would bike to school and see his favorite co-worker's car already parked in her spot.

Gosh, the one thing he missed above all else were his kids. They drove him crazy but kept him sane at the same time. Again, it was routine. They kept him in check without realizing it. He would go to bed surprisingly early, near nine-thirty or ten every night to make sure he didn't look like a zombie the next day. He'd come up with some sort of interactive lesson plan and be met with grand enthusiasm from all of his classes. He'd get the few stragglers who came to his classroom during lunch, where he'd have to pretend he didn't hear that Jason had a crush on Melanie, though he'd incorporate that knowledge into his next seating chart.

On the boat, where there were no bright-eyed students to ensure he had routine, he felt kind of lost. He missed hearing the school's drama from the kids. He missed hearing about who liked who because he was nosy like that. He missed playing the beanbag is lava. Ryland wondered if they missed him, too. Probably. The last time he was gone for more than a day was when he got the flu. He was out for a full week, dying on his couch with a box of tissues tucked under his arm and shitty cop TV on in the background. When he came back, his first class bombarded him with questions and worried gazes. And once that period was over, word quickly spread that "Mr. Grace is back!"

The memory still brought a smile to his face. He wanted to go back to his classroom and talk to them about all the cool experiments he'd done, reassure them that the smartest people in the world were working tirelessly to make sure the space dots didn't take the sun.

"Ryland?" Simon said, knocking part of his tail into Ryland's leg.

"Sorry. Just thinking."

Simon frowned. Ryland glanced down. Most of the fries were gone.

"About home."

"Yeah."

"What—" the voice cut out.

Ryland looked at the merman. Simon was still gazing at the ocean, at the clouds rolling along in waves.

"What do you miss most?" Simon asked, glancing at Ryland. His expression unreadable.

"I uh… I told you I was a teacher, right?"

"I think so."

"Well, after I got banned from academia, I went and got my teacher certification and started teaching middle school science. It's kids around eleven years old to fourteen. You can imagine what I deal with on the daily."

Simon huffed. "Yup."

"I try and make learning fun for them 'cause I know in this day and age it's not easy being a kid anymore. Parents obsessing over grades, putting that perfectionist pressure on their kids, bullying. It's a lot and I get it. I want them to think of my class as a place where those kinds of pressures can fall away for an hour and a half. I like to think I did it."

"What're your students like?"

"Eh, they're all different. You get the kids that love science and ace everything, the kids that ask a lot of questions, the class clowns, the goody-two shoes. I had a good mix of all of it." Ryland chuckled, looking at the glistening ocean. "There was this one lunch period where a group of my kids came to my class to eat lunch. I offered a work lunch where kids could makeup grades by doing a worksheet during lunch, only if they ate before they came. But these kids came just to eat and talk, even trying to get my opinion on school drama. I tried not to let them know how invested I was but I couldn't help it.

"And that one group of maybe four kids turned to seven. Then ten. And then I have twelve kids sitting in my classroom during lunch telling me who likes who and what teachers they think like each other. They even tried setting me up with one of my co-workers," he said with a fond laugh. "Failed miserably because she was a lesbian, but I learned just how much kids will go to bat for you if they like you."

"Sounds like a fun bunch," Simon said. "How long have you been away from them?"

"I think… five months? Maybe six? They're moving on to the next grade right now, most likely."

And oh, didn't that thought make him sad. He was missing out on seeing his kids grow, move on to greater things and pursue their dreams. Sad that he missed teaching his favorite unit to them, where he had this whole week planned full of interactive activities instead of lectures. He hated disappointing them, because he hyped it up so much before he was recruited to study Astrophage.

"Yeah, I miss them. A lot," he sighed. "I mean, kids are supposed to grow up and move on, but sometimes you get those classes you know? The ones you can't forget. I got plenty of them this semester."

"I bet they miss you, too. You sound like the best teacher in the school."

Ryland raised a brow, a mischievous grin crossing his face. "I'll have you know, the students voted for me for best teacher for four years in a row in a landslide vote!"

"No wonder your forehead is so big. It's all that ego."

"Of course. Like it'll go anywhere else." Ryland tapped the mousepad so the laptop wouldn't fall asleep. "But yeah, I miss them most. Didn't know how much I loved being a teacher until I'm back in a lab coat."

"You'll get back to them," Simon said with a nod. "If not soon, I think they'll track you down and drag you back themselves."

"I don't doubt it."

Simon's tail rose out of the water. The fins on the side of his tail glistened in the sunshine. "I'm gonna get back in the water. A little cold."

"Okay. I'll be up here if you wanna talk. Should probably get some more work done."

Ryland focused in on the laptop, opening his email to see a flood of new messages. He dreaded opening his email every day for this exact reason. He sighed, starting with the top message. As he read the topic, he quickly noticed how Simon wasn't moving. He said he'd be in the water, and he had yet to move. Ryland resisted the urge to glance at the merman.

"Ryland."

"Yeah?"

"Should take a break from work. You've been doing nothing but work for hours."

"Well, yeah. The Astrophage crisis isn't gonna solve itself," he said with a weak chuckle.

"Not what I meant."

"I know."

"You worked before you came here, didn't you?" Simon asked with a raised brow. "You've got circles under your eyes again."

"I did. So?"

"So, you should give it a rest. You've been looking at the same shit for days. How are you not tired of it?"

Against Ryland's wishes, his veins flared with annoyance. He needed to work. Simon understood it, everyone on the ship understood it. Why take breaks when the sun was dying? The talk about his students was nice, but it only served to remind Ryland about why he was on the ship in the first place. He was fighting for his kids' futures. He couldn't take a break knowing if he did, his kids could potentially inherit a world doomed to die.

"Because I don't want our solar system to die. Is that reason enough to keep going?"

"Don't be like that. You're clearly overworking yourself."

Ryland looked at the merman over his laptop. "I can't stop and wait for the Astrophage to eat the sun before finding a solution. I have to get this done."

"And let yourself wither away at the same time?" Simon challenged.

"If it means my kids can live, then yes."

Simon's eyes were alight with fire. Not burning anger, but frustration and worry mixed into one. Ryland hated that he was essentially arguing with Simon that it was okay for him to waste away, become a mindless scientist focused only on work, but Stratt was right. They couldn't afford to lose time when they didn't have much of it to begin with.

Ryland exhaled, running his hands over his face and skewing his glasses. "There's no time to waste. I can't—"

Plunk.

He quickly opened his eyes to see that Simon had closed the laptop, his giant hand resting on the device, a wall between Ryland and his work. Simon's brown eye still carried that same fierce flame as he gently grabbed the laptop and set it aside. Ryland watched him, stunned. Simon hadn't taken the laptop like that before. He hadn't seen Simon so… persistent before.

Over the course of the three months they'd been talking, Ryland had memorized a few of the chimes from the spines that made up the translator. In a series of chimes, he heard:

"St… work. Break."

Stop working, perhaps. Take a break.

The longer he looked into Simon's unwavering gaze, the more he realized Simon was right. It would probably do him good to get his mind off of Astrophage, if only for half an hour or so. He wouldn't let himself get too far off track. They only had so much time before the Hail Mary was scheduled to launch. By then, they needed to have everything figured out as best as they could. Ryland had faith they would be fine, but still. He couldn't slack off when every other scientist and engineer on the ship was giving it their all.

Ryland sighed. "Okay. Fine. I'll take a break. Thirty minutes."

Simon shook his head vehemently, holding up one finger.

"One what? An hour?"

He nodded.

"What? No—"

Simon insisted, putting his finger close to Ryland's eye. One hour, he imagined the computer voice saying slowly. Menacingly.

Ryland grumbled. "Fine. An hour. What am I gonna do for an hour?"

At that, Simon's eyes sparkled. He looked towards the water and back at Ryland. And Ryland looked at the water and back at the merman.

"What? No! I'm not going in there!"

Simon tilted his head. Why not?

"Because! There's… like, monsters and stuff in there. Sharks! There's sharks! I don't wanna get eaten!"

Simon rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"No sharks?"

The deadpan stare Simon gave him said otherwise. It said something like "No, I'm shaking my head because you're an idiot who somehow got a PhD." Still, Simon wasn't taking no for an answer. He even grasped Ryland's wrist, tugging slightly.

"I'm not in the right clothes! I can't swim in jeans! That's, like, top two worst pieces of clothing to wear while swimming!"

Simon's grasp around his wrist tightened, a smug smirk suddenly forming. A pit opened in Ryland's gut as he saw Simon's tail slowly dipping over the edge of the boat. The merman's eyes stayed on him while his body slowly slid off the deck. He wasn't letting go of Ryland.

"Wha—Simon! No no no no, don't you dare drag me in the water—!"

Simon slid off the edge, and so did Ryland.

"Simon—!"

Splash!

The warm water enveloped him in an instant, cutting off the roar of the waves they'd been listening to in between conversation. Ryland had squeezed his eyes shut before impact. He slowly opened them, blinking to be rid of the fuzziness but to no avail. Simon's hand was gone from his wrist.

His heart sunk through his feet as he looked down, seeing the darkness of the ocean below him. The void. Look, Ryland loved the beach. Key word beach, as in sandy shores and sand bars. Not open ocean. He wasn't lying when he spoke about monsters in the water—he was terrified of the unknown. Sure, there was research into the creatures of the deep, and there was a good amount that people knew about them, but they hadn't learned of everything that lurks in the deep. That, and even though he knew Jaws was an inaccurate depiction of sharks, it didn't make the fear of being bitten by one go away.

Ryland held his breath, twisting in the water. Simon. Where'd he go?

He tried not to look down for the sake of his heart's heath. He looked left to right, his lungs starting to burn before he saw a blur whizz past him. Forget what he said about his heart's health, he probably would've gone into cardiac arrest right there if he didn't know about Simon.

He broke to the surface, gasping for air. He felt immensely vulnerable in the sea, kicking his legs to keep himself afloat in a vast, empty ocean. Call him paranoid, but he felt like something was going to come up and gobble him whole. He saw the boat slowly drifting away, the propellors kicking up white suds.

Ryland yelped, feeling something drag across his heel. "Simon? That's not funny."

He took a few breaths, trying to psych himself up. Simon was feeling playful today, and he probably wasn't going to stop. Ryland could play at that game, too. That was the reason Simon dragged him into the water. To have fun. He couldn't swim as fast as Simon, but he could get back at the merman for dragging him in the ocean.

He inhaled deeply and submerged, tilting his body and swimming down a few meters. He looked up, seeing the blurry underside of the water, the sun's rays casting past the barrier and into the ocean. It was pretty, though if he looked down he would have a different reason his heart was racing. He planned to go down a few meters and pretend like he was passing out, just to have a little fun getting Simon's heart pumping, but those plans quickly died when he saw Simon's shadow whizz past him.

Ryland blinked, seeing bubbles rising from where Simon was just two milliseconds ago. He whirled around, seeing trails of bubbles and shadows of a tail but nothing else. Jeez, just how fast was he? How did he have the energy to swim so fast? Maybe because they were high up the pressure wasn't too much of a problem? But Simon thrived in deep waters. Maybe the pressure was like a weight to him, and since the weight wasn't there, he could move about freely.

Simon came into view in the blink of an eye, circling Ryland before stopping in front of him. The current he created felt like a mini whirlpool around Ryland's body. He had to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. Simon was still there, smiling coyly. Ryland glared at him, even blowing a few bubbles at him that did absolutely nothing but make him feel petty. Simon's grin grew.

Ryland broke to the surface for air, Simon's head popping up a second after him.

"You're… the most insufferable merman I've ever met," Ryland said between puffs of air. "You just had to throw me in the ocean. In jeans. If I could do that to you as payback, I would. This feels awful."

Simon just gave him a knowing look. One that said I know you would and I dare you to.

"You're lucky the water feels nice or I'd actually be mad."

The merman shook his head slightly, disagreeing. Ryland sighed, looking past him at the boat still moving along slowly.

"Think you can catch up with the boat?" he asked.

Simon glanced at it and back at him, deadpan. Duh, he imagined Simon saying. The longer he looked at the boat, the more mischief that entered Simon's eyes. He pointed at Ryland and then the boat.

"What?"

Simon made a looking motion, pointing at Ryland again.

"Do I wanna see?"

The merman nodded. Well, Ryland would never deny a chance to study Simon in his environment.

"I'll time you," he said, checking his watch that was thankfully waterproof. Simon got ready, glancing back at him with fire in his eyes. "Go!"

Simon was on the move before the word finished hitting the air, splashing him with a decent chunk of water. Ryland spluttered but kept counting, seeing the spines on Simon's back protruding from the water and speeding towards the boat at a rate faster than Ryland imagined. A few seconds later, Simon was hauling himself onto the deck they sit on, offering a wave. Ryland checked his watch.

"Damn. Thirteen twenty-two. That's fast." Ryland looked back up in time to see Simon dive back in. "Let's see if you're faster on the way back."

He counted, once again observing the spines as they moved against the water. It almost felt like he was in Jaws, watching the shark approach at ungodly speeds. Instead of being scared, though, he was mesmerized by the sight. He somehow managed to keep count, and when Simon reemerged just a few inches from him, he checked the time.

"Beat your first record by two seconds. Eleven twenty," he said as Simon's chest rose and fell quickly. The merman's hair was tangled and sprawled across his bare skin. Ryland tried not to stare. "First record was thirteen twenty-two. I'd say you went about fifty, maybe sixty yards. That's pretty good timing."

Simon's eyes gleamed, pointing at Ryland and the boat again, except he had that look on his face. Goading, provoking. Ryland gave him a look.

"No. I can't swim that fast. There'd be no point in trying to catch up, or timing me!" Ryland said. "Look, see! Watch this."

He started paddling towards the boat, putting his all into it. Every muscle in his legs and arms burned with the motions, reminding Ryland just how out of shape he was. Six months of not riding a bike to work did wonders to his muscle mass. And Simon floated alongside him as if the .2 miles per hour Ryland was moving at was the most interesting thing in the world. Hell, he looked giddy at the fact Ryland couldn't match his speed.

"See?" Ryland panted as he stopped, wiping the water from his face. "Not that fast and I only covered, like, two yards."

Simon swam in front of him again, giving him another look. Don't be so pessimistic, he imagined him saying. The merman pointed under the water with a questioning brow.

"Do I wanna go under?"

A nod.

"Uhh… I mean, I can. There's nothing much to see down there, though, right? A-And I can't go that far; I don't have the same depth resistance you do so if I went that low I'd pop like a popcorn kernel."

Simon was arguably the master of giving the no shit expression. At the frequency he used the expression, Ryland wondered if it would somehow become his main resting face.

"Oh, not that far. Obviously. My bad. Then sure, yeah."

The merman made an exaggerated motion of taking a deep breath before submerging. Ryland followed his example, once again blinking underwater to try and be rid of the blurriness. It didn't help at all. Simon approached him slowly this time, nodding to the side as if saying "follow me." Ryland nodded and started swimming, Simon moving alongside him. Though, his tail was so long that the end of it kept knocking into Ryland's legs, making him jump every time because despite there being no marine life in sight at the moment, he was still paranoid about something sneaking up behind them.

Eventually, he got used to the feeling. He had to come up to breathe a few times, but the farther they swam, the more Ryland relaxed. The less thoughts of Astrophage popped up in his head, the detrimental effects that would plague the world once the Hail Mary launched, taking all of humanity's hopes with it. He smiled when Simon showed off a little, swimming around him with a small smile. It almost reminded Ryland of Wall-E, that scene where Eve and Wall-E are spinning around each other in a waltz in space.

He'd laugh when Simon would splash him with water when he tried to get some air. He'd watch as Simon leapt into the air, soaring over Ryland's head, before splashing down into the ocean. Ryland wished he could jump that high. He wondered how Simon must've felt in the air. Weightless, free. Feeling the wind ripple through you right before you land in the water.

Despite their path leading them behind the boat Ryland was living on, he wasn't focused at all on the science or Stratt's piercing gaze. He was focused on Simon's cool mid-air flips, the way his tail made him look so graceful in the sunshine. When he was underwater, he tried flipping onto his back to swim alongside Simon, though it didn't work very well. It left him rushing to the surface, cursing at the amalgamation of snot and seawater pouring from his nostrils.

At some point, Simon once again grabbed his arm, told him to take a breath, and swam a few meters deeper than Ryland was comfortable going. Looking back, his heart lurched seeing the surface so far, but he trusted Simon to not kill him. He had no reason to.

Ryland let the merman drag him further down, down, down. He was getting worried. He didn't have good breath control, nor did he have proper diving equipment. Simon knew he couldn't go too far, and yet it seemed like he was hellbent on bringing Ryland to the depths of the ocean. He tried to pull his arm from Simon's grip, but he couldn't. The merman's grip was too strong.

He tried to calm himself down lest he accidentally inhale a lungful of water or something and drown. He willed himself to keep going. A second later, Simon stopped, and it took Ryland a few blinks to realize they were near a reef. Coral of all different shades looked back at him. Schools of fish passed by. He could even see a starfish on the nearest piece of coral. Blending in.

Ryland would've smiled if he could've. Instead he looked at Simon, hoping his ever expressive eyes conveyed how intrigued he was by the reef. His lungs were starting to sting, but he thought he could swim around for a second. He swam a few meters above the reef, Simon at his side, observing the fish in their environment. If Ryland wasn't a molecular biologist, he would've liked to think he was going to be a marine biologist. He loved learning about the ocean since it was so expansive, like space, but there were creatures swimming in the water. Cute ones, ugly ones, the ones that are ugly but also kind of cute, the ones that were doing wonders for the ecosystem. He loved it, despite wanting to stay on the beach.

If this reef were closer to shore, he wouldn't mind taking a few dives here or there. But since it was far out, he didn't know. It was a beautiful sight, though. One he wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon.

Simon helped him up to the surface, coughing as air filled his desperate lungs.

"Woah… didn't know… that was there," he said. "It's kinda deep. There were so many kinds of fish. Is that where you went—ah!"

Ryland flailed about when he felt something brush his leg. He'd gotten used to the feeling of Simon's tail, something firm but also kind of slimy in the water. This thing was firm, softer. Like the skin of a fish. Simon's eyes were wide, his hand gesturing, asking what the hell was going on. Ryland didn't want to look underwater. God, if it was a shark then he was not doing himself any favors moving about in the water like that.

"Shit, something brushed my leg! Is it a shark? Tell me it's not a shark!"

Simon disappeared underwater for a moment. In the fifteen seconds he was under, Ryland's chest heaved with panicked breaths, waiting for the moment sharp teeth would sink into his flesh. He took back everything he might've thought about being a marine biologist—he was not cut out to hanging out in the water with the fish.

The merman emerged with remnants of a scowl etched on his face that slowly disippated into something calmer. He shook his head.

No shark.

Ryland slumped. "Thank God. What was it?"

Simon moved his hands like you would if you were describing a fish.

"Just a regular fish?"

He nodded.

"Oh good. Just a curious little guy, huh? Is it still around?"

Simon shrugged, pointing back at the boat.

"Yeah, we should probably head back." Ryland looked up to find the sun, only to see the glowing orange glow of the giant ball in the sky resting upon the horizon. "Were we really swimming for that long? Didn't feel like it."

Simon gave him another look. Told you so.

Ryland rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's go back. I'm hungry and I bet you are, too, after burning all that energy. Maybe I'll get lucky enough to sneak something from the cafeteria for you."

The merman seemed to like the sound of that. He grasped Ryland's wrist, basically dragging him back to the boat since he was the slowest swimmer in the ocean. Though, he took a little detour once they neared the deck. He once again dragged Ryland under the water, probably fifteen feet down, where he could see the propellers of the ship slowly working.

Ryland gave him a look, seeing his hair floating around his head. He had to keep his hands on his glasses lest they fall off. What're you doing?

Simon just studied him. Circling him. Ryland could see his tail making a coil again. Once again, he was struck with utter fascination at just how long Simon's tail was. It had to be eight feet long, maybe more if you included his bottom fin. The merman seemed to be studying him just as Ryland studied him over the last few weeks. He didn't know why Simon took an interest in humans. There wasn't anything special about them. If you were looking at it from a biological perspective, humans were kind of gross with all the fluids they produced and the many holes they could leak out of. What did Simon find in his circling that made his brows furrow curiously?

Simon eventually stopped in front of him again. Tail loosely surrounding the human. Ryland recognized that look in his eye. It was the same as when his students heard the bell ring, signaling their next class. They'd groan, telling him that they didn't want to go to their next class and how they wanted to hear more about cells and stuff. They said he made learning interesting, unlike a lot of other teachers, which he took in stride.

Simon was stalling for more time. He must've been feeling energetic today if he was still wanting to swim. Ryland flashed him a small smile, the least he could do without getting water in his mouth. A reassurance that he'd come back for a swim later. He was hungry and he knew Simon was probably getting tired, too. Besides, Ryland needed to get back up on deck before someone found him out.

To his surprise, Simon leaned forward, his one arm wrapping around Ryland's middle. His chin hooked over Ryland's shoulder.

A hug. Simon was hugging him.

He could feel the merman's chest teeth moving a little, like they were trying to decide if Ryland was food or not. He could feel the teeth on Simon's face wiggling a little against his cheek. He could feel them slowly rising to the surface.

Not that Ryland didn't like the hug, it was just unexpected. Nothing he could think of would explain why Simon suddenly decided to show affection. The merman didn't really do that, anyway. He just kind of stared and hoped Ryland got his gratitude for keeping a secret. And bringing more fish. And for not getting him killed, which ties into the first point, but still. Ryland could've said something to somebody but he didn't. Their meetings were still pretty risky, though Simon seemed content with that risk for some reason.

Maybe he was just as lonely as Ryland, though he'd never admit it. Neither of them would.

Ryland returned the embrace, careful not to accidentally brush the merman's gills or spines. It felt like his arms were hovering instead of actually embracing, but the sentiment was there. Simon clung to his jacket tighter. Not tight enough to rip the fabric, which he could no doubt easily do.

They broke the surface, and Ryland could finally breathe again, though Simon kept him close as he caught his breath. Not that the hug wasn't nice, but it made Ryland a little worried the longer it went on. Was this supposed to be an… an apology or something? But for what would he be sorry for? He didn't do anything wrong. If not an apology, then what? A thank you, maybe, for everything?

In that case, it sounded like a goodbye.

He couldn't take the silence anymore.

"Are—uh… are you okay?" he asked.

Simon nodded, still leaning on him.

"Not that I don't like hugs. This was just uh… kind of out of nowhere, you know? You scared me a little. What's it for?"

He saw the spines moving, their chimes muffled by the water. He caught a few letters here and there but he couldn't put together the full picture. Before he could ask again, Simon pulled away, though the merman kept his hand on Ryland's back. He tried not to think about how the merman's hand was as big as his shoulder blade.

Simon's face was inches from his. Up close, the red eye had beautiful darker flecks of maroon in them. He could see the nictitating membrane. He could see the water slowly cascading down his long, beautiful inky hair that Ryland had the urge to brush through. Or braid. He could see the discoloration of the teeth on Simon's cheek up close, watching them wiggle a bit. He smiled as Simon glared at the teeth.

"Not a big fan of them moving around?"

Simon shook his head.

Can't you control them, though? Ryland thought as he furrowed his brows, watching the teeth continue to move. Guess not. Another thing to research.

Simon's brown eye stayed on him. There was a bit of warmth there, something Ryland found himself drawn to. And Simon wasn't lying when he said he ran warm. He was like a giant heater even in the water. If Ryland's skin wasn't damp already, he would've probably been sweating at such close proximity.

Ryland watched as the teeth opened wide, making Simon's mouth involuntarily open slightly. He was right. The mouths were connected. That, and the teeth were a lot sharper up close. He could see Simon's normal teeth, which made him curious as to how the merman's skeletal structure was possible. Did he have a gaping hole in his jaw to fit the teeth? Did the mutant teeth act as like a second row of "adult" teeth?

So many questions. Ryland didn't think he'd be able to get all the answers.

"What're they doing?" he asked quietly as the teeth continued to open. He was lucky Simon was basically holding him up. His leg muscles were exhausted and he didn't have the energy to keep kicking. He wasn't too focused on his body, though, not when Simon's mutations were acting funny for seemingly no reason.

Simon's hand moved, letting go of him, forcing Ryland to start kicking again. He watched as the merman grasped his wrist oh so gently, making sure his razor-sharp nails didn't dig into his skin. Ryland felt a jolt of panic run down his spine as Simon brought his hand closer to the teeth. Closer, closer. The teeth opened wider.

"Uh… uh, what're you—"

The spines clinked. Ryland tried not to wiggle because if Simon wanted to kill him, he would've done so ten times already. He just didn't understand what the merman wanted or what he was doing. Was it a cultural thing? Was it a curiosity thing? An experiment of his own conduction?

Ryland's nerves shook, his hand wobbling as the teeth slowly closed around his palm. Simon didn't seem too concerned, his eyes slipping shut as the mutant mouth gently nibbled on him. "Nibble" was as best as Ryland could describe it, because the teeth weren't breaking skin. They weren't eating him. They were just holding him, a light pressure running over his hand and wrist. Never harming.

Ryland watched, entranced, as the teeth continued their motions. He stared at the mutation that devoured fish like it was paper being fed to a shredder. And yet here they were, gentle as can be. Simon's chest burst into hums, the spines chiming again. Ryland wondered what he was saying, though he thought he had the general idea.

This was Simon putting utmost trust in him. This is Simon showing him that he trusted Ryland, arguably with his life. This was him saying he didn't mind the company or the questions. Simon was letting him into his world for real now.

Somehow, Simon liked him enough to let him in. To trust him completely.

Ryland's chest bloomed with warmth, spreading through every inch of his body; a smile slowly formed on his face as the teeth continued to wiggle. Call him crazy, but he didn't have this much chemistry with anyone else on the ship. At least he thought so. But where Ryland found it hard to talk to people, having to psych himself up every time there is a social gathering he's dragged to, it wasn't like that with Simon. Where Ryland dreaded going to meetings (which were boring so he wanted to skip regardless), he always looked forward to the days where he could sneak away from the crowd with his laptop tucked under his arm. He counted the days, the hours, before he could see his new friend again.

Friend. Look at that. Ryland Grace, resident scientist who only goes to maybe four places in the entire ship, had made friends with someone. It was hard making friends as an adult, especially one who had been kicked from his academic field, so this was a major achievement.

Except, as Simon opened his eyes and locked onto Ryland's, he felt that warmth again. The surge of affection he got whenever he really cared about someone. He stared back, utterly entranced by the way the golden sunlight illuminated the merman's eyes. No longer was his right eye a deep brown, but a glowing hazel—his left eye no longer a deep red but shimmering ruby. Staring into Ryland, seemingly mirroring the same emotion Ryland felt.

Trust. Affection. Endearment. Even the mutant teeth seemed to agree that they were friends now.

They were so close, Ryland could see the individual strands of hair that made up Simon's luscious locks. He wondered what they felt like, if they seemed as silky smooth as they usually did.

Simon's eyes were raking over him, too. Studying with a gleam to his eye.

Ryland swallowed. "Should probably get back," he muttered.

He didn't want to go back. Looking at Simon, he didn't seem to want to go, either. The teeth held his wrist with slightly harsher pressure, like they wanted him to stay, too.

He was about to speak again when Simon's eye abruptly looked overhead. Ryland's gaze followed, seeing one of the military jets speeding past. Ryland jumped at the sudden ear-bursting noise, his hands shooting up to cover his ears as the jet grew distant. Simon watched the aircraft go with lowered brows and pursed lips, his mutant teeth slowly closing without Ryland's wrist in their grip.

"Should definitely get back," Ryland said as he took his hands off his ears. Opening and closing his jaw to try and get them to pop. "Probably got ten people wondering where I am."

Simon nodded slowly, offering his hand. Ryland took it, holding on tight as he and Simon headed back towards the boat. More like Simon took the wheel again, his tail strong and steady, pushing side to side to thrust them forward. Within ten seconds, they were back at the dock. Simon made sure Ryland was holding onto the ledge before hopping up himself, grabbing Ryland's wrist and helping him back to stable footing. Ryland laid flat like a starfish against the floor, Simon mirroring his position on his back, staring at the sky.

"So tired… but we need food," Ryland grumbled, his face smushed against the metal. He sighed. "Don't wanna get up."

Simon shook his hand, droplets of water flinging about. He reached for the laptop and opened it, tapping the space bar. The screen lit up.

"I'll get my own food."

"No, no, you're tired, too. I'm just being dramatic, I can walk over there."

"It's fine. You forget I always run on exhausted fumes."

"Yeah, but you need to eat and we've got food on deck. I'll go grab some, okay?" Ryland said as he pushed himself to his feet. He put his hands on his hips and leaned back, feeling something in his back crack. "I'll be back. Don't go anywhere. I've got a few questions for you!"

Simon huffed, his lips curling into a smile that had Ryland's chest constricting. "Fine. I'll be here."

Ryland pointed at him with a coy smile before heading back up deck. He was extremely lucky to not run into anyone, though he guessed it was dinner time, so everyone should be in the cafeteria. He managed to sneak into the back of the cafeteria and into the kitchen. Pizza night. He silently celebrated because the cooks on the boat genuinely made the best pizza he'd ever had in his life. Or maybe he was biased because he'd eat after being in the lab for 20 hours without food or water. Still, it was really good. Best part? They were served as tiny personal sized pizzas, so all he had to do was get his pizza and put another plate over it and hope it stayed secure on the way back to Simon.

He snagged a smaller box of fish that the kitchen staff surely wouldn't notice. He carefully (after peeking out of every corner he encountered) made his way back to the dock. Ryland knew this was very risky. Stealing food and then going straight to the intended recipient, especially when Stratt was still kind of worried about him not being focused on the project. She no doubt had some sort of eyes on him, and he knew he was being an idiot for sticking to a fixed schedule to see the merman, but he didn't want to mess up the routine. Not when he knew Simon looked forward to seeing him, too.

He didn't intend on staying with Simon for most of the day and well into the dark hours of night, but he couldn't help it. Spirits were high, stomachs were full, and conversation was good. The company Ryland had secretly wished for was exactly as he dreamed it would be and he didn't want to leave.

And when his eyes and tongue grew heavy, Simon didn't tell him to go.

Ryland stayed.

It was the day the carrier would dock, and Ryland was itching to get his feet back on land. Others shared the same sentiment, as a crowd had formed on the upper deck, watching land grow closer. Within half an hour, they'd be able to walk down the ramp and be back on stable, unmoving land.

Ryland, despite his desperation to feel soil beneath his feet again, stood near the back of the crowd. No use in watching land get closer. It would only make time feel like it was passing agonizingly slow, and he wasn't up for sitting and counting every second. He liked seeing the hands shooting up, waving to people faraway on the shore. There was something so human about that.

Should go see how Simon's holding up. Maybe warn him about sticking too close to shore.

"Ah, Dr. Grace! I feel like I never see you!"

An arm wrapped around his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. He rushed to push up his glasses as he whirled around.

"Ilyukhina. How are you?" he asked kindly. He liked her. She had good spirit even though she was working and planning a suicide mission for the solar system.

She smiled wide. "Eh, cannot complain. Happy to see trees, land! I love the ocean but it goes on and on and on—" she chuckled as she gestured "—and it's so blue. I miss the green. You miss land?"

"Oh yeah. Yeah, tired of waking up feeling motion sick."

"Ah, weak stomach, Doctor! You know a bit of vodka can fix that? You should come with us to the bar tonight! Everyone's going!"

Ryland, frankly, had no clue what was going to happen once they docked. Knowing Stratt, he assumed she'd try her best to usher everyone to a nearby compound she had prepared for Project Hail Mary purposes. Knowing most of the crew, they'd head straight to the nearest bar to celebrate docking on land. Ryland, surprisingly, found a sliver of himself that wanted to join in the festivities. If only to draw Stratt's suspicion off him. If he was seen interacting with the crew, there was no reason to suspect he was doing something weird.

It would get her off his case, potentially giving him more time to see Simon.

"Maybe," he shrugged.

Ilyukhina groaned, practically leaning all her weight on him. "Come on, Dr. Grace, you say that every time! Hey, DuBois! Don't you want Dr. Grace to come drink with us?"

DuBois had been passing by, presumably to go to the lab, or maybe the part of the deck where the ramp would go. The poor mad had been itching to get off the boat, go for an actual walk and being able to see all sorts of different views of nature. Ilyukhina was right. The ocean kind of got boring after a while, though the sunsets never did.

The scientist shrugged, eyes flickering between them. "She's right, Dr. Grace. You should loosen up a bit. Celebrate for once."

Shapiro appeared at his side. Ryland glanced between the two. He may not have been at all the nightly drinking parties or karaoke nights, but he knew for a fact that the two of them were becoming romantically entangled. And good for them, good for them. It was just unexpected to him. Then again, when the world's end is a ticking clock ignoring your pleas for more time, you grow to ignore barriers, too. Titles. Expectations.

Ryland didn't care who was having intercourse with who. He just wanted to save the sun.

"Yeah, you should totally come! I know it's the whole point of being on the project, but you're always in the lab. Outside of that, I rarely see you. You're like a cave-dweller but in a lab," Shapiro said. She waved at him. "We'll buy you your first drink."

Ryland sighed. He had a feeling they weren't going to let him retreat to a dark corner that easily. "Okay, fine. I'll go."

Ilyukhina pumped her fist in celebration. "Yes! We have drinking contest, see who can hold most amount of liquor! And then we sing! We can have a duet, Dr. Grace!"

"I-I don't sing, no no no."

"Today, you will!"

He couldn't hold back a snicker. "Alright, but I've got something to do before going, so I'll meet you guys there."

The three gave him knowing looks.

"What?" he said.

"No lab," Shapiro said.

"I wasn't going to the lab. I was gonna go change. I get cold easily."

The three of them stared, assessing, before Ilyukhina shrugged.

"Don't bail on us! We'll come back here and drag you out!" she exclaimed as she walked with Shapiro and DuBois.

Ryland sighed again. What had his life come to?

He wasn't lying though. He did have something to do before meeting them. He started towards the lower decks. If he was going for an impromptu visit, he wanted to make it quick lest someone decide to follow him.

As always, the walk was uneventful. Nothing but Ryland turning corners and checking over his shoulder at every sound that wasn't made by him. He made it back down to the deck, letting his boots hit the metal a little harsher as always.

He turned the corner, a greeting on his lips that died almost instantly. Simon wasn't there. Not on deck, not hanging half on half off the ship. Nowhere in sight.

Ryland's heart lurched. He had no clue what Stratt was planning once they docked, and he wished he'd gotten to talk to Simon before it happened. He slowly sat where he usually would if they were meeting, letting his legs dangle off the dock as he leaned against the metal rail. Even if Simon wasn't there at the moment, he could enjoy the silence for a little bit. No doubt the deck would be a bit chaotic with people coming and going. He didn't feel like dealing with the noise or the clusters of people.

Simon was probably gone, migrating somewhere for food. Or maybe he was resting at the bottom of the ocean to conserve energy. The last time they met a day ago, Ryland had said they were going to be docking, so maybe Simon got a head start and left. He didn't like any other humans or want to interact with them and Ryland couldn't blame him. There was no telling how someone would react if they saw someone like Simon, and Ryland didn't want to risk the merman getting hurt.

He stared out at the water, the glowing sunset on the horizon. He had a decent day in the lab and managed to get a lot of work done. "Work" meaning paperwork. Turns out, making and building zero-g equipment takes a lot of paperwork for whatever reason. He liked to think it was just a paper trail for whoever made the equipment, but then why was it up to him to get the paperwork correct and not the other scientists?

Whatever. Work was work and he got it done. He leaned against the rail pole, watching the great ball in the sky that had stolen all of his attention as of late. He felt like he was back in time, sitting in the same spot months ago, where he accidentally kicked a merman and changed the way he thought about the ocean and it's contents forever. The same problem still existed. Nothing really changed other than the fact that mermen existed.

Astrophage hadn't been solved. He was still working for the project to hopefully succeed. He and every other human on the planet was still banking on the hope that the Hail Mary would find the solution within thirty years. Months had passed since he met Simon in this exact spot, and the weight of the world had never been heavier on his shoulders.

Was it bad to think he wanted it off? To be able to push his shoulders back and stand up straight again?

Ryland exhaled as a gust of wind passed. He checked his watch. Maybe ten minutes before docking began. If he listened intently, above the ocean, he could hear the excited cheers of the crew up top. He smiled to himself. Maybe he should listen to Ilyukhina for once and take a drink, relax, do some crappy karaoke and make a fool out of himself again. Wouldn't that be a sight.

Something grabbed his ankle.

Ryland screamed, wiggling back as Simon hoisted himself onto the deck with a shit-eating grin. All the while, Ryland was heaving for the salty air, his heart in his throat as his tense muscles slowly relaxed.

"Jesus, Simon! What the hell was that for? God, you scared me. I thought—like—Godzilla was coming out of the water to get me or something," he blabbered as he caught his breath, trying to calm his heart hammering against his ribcage.

Simon's shoulders shook with easy laughter. His spines moved, creating a lovely melody. He sat on the edge of the deck, tail hanging in the water. Ryland moved back to his original spot, letting his legs dangle beside Simon's tail. They sat mere inches apart. Ryland could feel the heat radiating from the merman's body.

The droplets of water cascading down his chest, his soaked hair splayed across his pecs and back—

Ryland blinked. He was supposed to be focusing on what Simon was trying to say. He'd gotten better about listening and memorizing what letters came with what chime, but he was still a little rusty putting it all together. He could get the general idea, though.

"So funny," Simon said, another low rumble of laughter escaping him.

"Ha ha, let's scare the poor unsuspecting man."

"Humor is hard to come by for me, let me have this."

He sighed. "Okay."

The two quieted, looking at the horizon. Ryland couldn't help but glance at the merman out of the corner of his eyes. Even though he'd known Simon for months, now, he was still completely appalled that the merman exists. Someone like Simon existed in fairytales or modern fantasy novels based on tropes with little original content. The fact that he existed in the real world, in this realm, was so… odd. It was like when Ryland first heard about Astrophage dimming the sun. The idea seemed so farfetched, something ripped out of an old sci-fi film or novel written by a conspiracy theorist or doomsday prepper.

Ryland had never met anyone like him. Literally. And now, he was probably going to have to say goodbye to the one friend he wanted so desperately to keep.

Simon just… he got him. He understood Ryland. He knew what it was like to want to be by yourself but long with every fiber of your being for something intimate as a close friendship. He knew what it was like to be ostracized, though his reason was entirely different that Ryland's, but he knew regardless. They were alike in ways Ryland wouldn't have thought—the odd things that made him him and Simon Simon, and they somehow allowed the two to grow closer.

"We'll be docking any minute now," Ryland said quietly. His finger tapped the metal floor in the limited space between them. "You should probably go back out to deep waters. It'll be safer there."

"It's safe here."

"How do you know?"

"Scoped the place out. Is why I was gone."

"And you think it's safe enough to stay?"

Simon shrugged. "Think so. Not a lot of boats out. Can stay here."

Ryland swallowed the lump in his throat. "You don't have to stay. You… have your own life like I have mine. I don't want you to feel obligated to be here."

"Then don't feel like that. I want to be here," Simon said.

He faced the merman, finding him already looking. Small smile on his face. He was smiling a lot more as of late, a deep contrast to the heavily guarded merman he met all those months ago. Another sign of trust, letting himself bring those sharp walls down and let Ryland in.

And Ryland might not even see him again all because Stratt couldn't let them know about plans before the day of. His next breath stung on the way in and out.

"I don't even know where we're going after this," he muttered, leaning his head against the rail post. "Probably further inland. Far from here so if something goes wrong with Astrophage, nothing important blows up."

The wind that passed between them during the beat of silence was biting.

"So you're leaving."

"Think so."

Simon's rumbling hums resonated in his chest.

"Will you visit?" Simon asked.

Ryland made the mistake of staring at the merman, something he'd done dozens of times before but was now biting him in the ass, because Simon's eyes were sad. Disappointed. Longing for more time. It was like looking in a mirror.

"I don't know if I can," he admitted in a whisper. "I don't want to risk them following me and finding you, 'cause once we get to whatever compound Stratt has, they're not gonna like my evening walks. They're gonna have eyes on us pretty much at all times. If I leave for any reason, I'll no doubt be followed. And I can't let anything happen to you because of me. You're my friend, arguably my only friend."

"The people up there don't count?"

"I'm not as close with them as I am with you. It's different."

Simon pondered for a moment. Ryland could see his tongue poking at his cheek as he thought, something he'd only noticed recently. It only made Simon all the more endearing to him.

"I can find a place upstream. There are major rivers and creeks everywhere. I can find you."

"But if you go near land, people will see you and hurt you."

"Only if I'm caught."

"Simon—"

"I've had practice over the years. I'm still alive," Simon said, gaze boring into him. "A few fisherman or people aren't going to bother me because they won't see me."

"I don't like the sound of this. M-Maybe I can try and sneak away so you can stay here. If they don't take us that far inland." Ryland looked back at the water. "We'll just have to see, I guess."

The cheers up on top deck erupted, echoing in the open air. Ryland checked his watch. They probably laid the ramp down by now. People would start bustling about the dock nearby, and possibly see him and Simon just sitting there, minding their business. He needed to go to protect Simon.

"I'll do some scoping, too. See how far we're going—"

"Ryland."

"Hm?"

"Why do you think you have to leave permanently?"

"Wha—because… you know why. People suck. If they see me with you they'll get money in their eyes. They'll dissect you for parts."

"Like they could get me."

"We're not having this argument again. This is serious, Si," he said. "I'm not jeopardizing your life."

"You won't be."

"Oh, yes I will be. I don't want to leave you here but—"

Simon gestured quickly. "Then don't. Stay."

"The sun, Simon. I can't." Ryland ran his hands over his face. His heart felt like lead, weighing him down, forcing him to hunch his shoulders. "I can't abandon the reason why I'm here. You're… Simon, you're one of the greatest friends I've ever made in my lifetime. And I'm always going to be grateful that I met you. But I'm not just doing this for my kids anymore. I'm doing it for you, too."

His pocket buzzed, making them both jump. He cursed under his breath and fished it out, seeing Stratt's name at the top. Ryland let his hand fall limp in his lap.

"I can't let you die. I care for you too much to let that happen." Ryland managed a wobbly smile. "Let me scope it out, okay? I'll try and make it work but please stay here. Don't go upstream. I don't want to come back to see you chopped up on some fisherman's table."

Simon's eyes fluttered about, desperately searching for an answer. "What if this is the last time I see you?"

Ryland bit his lip and slowly shrugged. "I don't think it will be. It can't be. I'm not good at goodbyes, so… technically I can't say it, right?"

Simon's lips fell into a thin line. Another moment of silence created by two who didn't know what to say but did at the same time—both thought they didn't have enough time to get it all out and make it mean something. The quiet between them contrasting with the cheers above drove an ice pick into Ryland's still-beating heart. They were happy to be back on land and here was Ryland, ever the black sheep, wishing that he had more time.

Part of him figured he was just being dramatic. A few security guards never stopped him from seeing Simon before, or sneaking out to get some late night greasy diner food. Ryland knew how to deal with obstacles thrown his way, so why did this one feel so impossible to comprehend? Because he cared about Simon? Because he wanted to know everything about him?

Because he couldn't look at those heterochromatic eyes and say no?

The longer the silence went on, the further his heart rested to the merman instead of the humans. And seeing Simon's eyes suddenly so sad, so hurt, made him boot back to default settings and try to use dry, shitty humor to fix the somber mood.

"Besides, weren't you the one telling me to leave all those months ago?" he chuckled weakly. "Oh how the roles have reversed."

Simon glowered at him, though his lip twitched. He wanted to smile at Ryland's stupidity, he knew. Instead, Simon scooted closer, his tail brushing Ryland's thigh. His pinkie touching Ryland's, an experimental touch that grew bold when Ryland didn't pull away. He carefully, oh so carefully, laid his giant hand over Ryland's abysmally smaller one. Once again, Ryland was frozen with the realization of just how big Simon was. That, and the fact that Simon was initiating contact again. Touch.

They didn't do that. In all the months that they've known each other, there wasn't much touching aside from dubbed "experiment" days where both species would get to poke and prod one another. Yes, Simon asked to poke and question Ryland's biology just so he could "get back" at Ryland for all the days he spent studying Simon's makeup. Other than that, though, Ryland never really initiated contact because he figured Simon didn't care and didn't want it—not after his (presumably) horrible experiences with humans. If Simon wanted some sort of contact, Ryland let the ball stay in his court.

There was the tail wrapping thing which, yeah it counts as contact, but Ryland also presumed it was how Simon protected both himself and any fish he may catch in the deep from other predators. It wasn't an affection thing. At least, Ryland didn't think it was. He didn't ask. Outside of the tail wrap, there was the hug in the sea and now the hand holding. It was like Simon was slowly building tolerance to touch, or slowly coming to realize that Ryland really wasn't here to hurt him but to be friends. To help him.

And just when he finally got comfortable enough to initiate some sort of friendly affection, Ryland didn't know if he'd be able to safely visit Simon again. He didn't know if Simon would be okay in shallow waters, waiting for him with fisherman lumbering about.

"This is new," Ryland said as he flipped his hand over to properly hold Simon's. His fingers were like chicken legs compared to Simon's. So thin.

"You can't just sit in the moment, can you? You just have to say something," Simon said as he flashed a small, unsure smile.

"It's the scientist in me, I think."

He gently squeezed Simon's hand, offering a smile of his own as the breeze danced between them. He listened as the cheers above slowly died out. People were going on land, then. The phone buzzed insistently in his lap, Stratt's ID showing up again. He didn't want to answer. He didn't want to stand up and walk off the boat, knowing he might not be able to see the one person who made him feel like a normal human being in all this chaos about the sun.

"Should probably get that," Simon said, nodding at the phone.

Ryland shook his head, the dread from earlier hitting him full force again. "Don't want to. I'm gonna try my best to sit in this moment and not say something stupid."

"Ryland, it's your boss, isn't it? That means it's important."

"She can wait. There's lots of bars to sing at. She was in a youth choir, she'll have some fun."

Simon gave him a disapproving look before shaking his head. "You're impossible. Remind me why I still come up here?"

"'Cause I'm the coolest scientist you know who's trying to save the world?"

The merman's chest rumbled. "Or maybe because you're easy food."

"You're not gonna eat me," Ryland snickered. "You would've done that months ago if you were serious about it."

"Doesn't mean I can't threaten to. Just pick up the phone, the buzzing is annoying."

Ryland stared at it as it stopped, Stratt's missed call showing up as a notification right before she started calling again. He exhaled, feeling Simon's thumb rubbing a circle on the back of his hand. A silent support. He picked up the phone and slid the green button, raising it to his ear and ignoring the way Simon stared intently, as if he could listen to the conversation just by looking at him.

"Stratt," he greeted in a mock-cheery tone.

"Dr. Grace, where are you? The boat is docked. Do not tell me you're in your lab. They're moving everything out within the hour."

"Oh, uh, no. No, I'm still packing up."

"You're… you barely have anything," the woman said dumbly.

"It's not everyday a school teacher can afford a view like this," he said. Simon's hand felt heavy in his. "Just enjoying the view before you lock us up in Rapunzel's tower."

"Don't be dramatic. We're going inland, yes, but only a few miles from the coast. It's remote in case anything happens. You know this."

He heard someone speaking to her and a muffled response. Probably ordering coffee.

"Be off the ship in ten minutes. Carl will be waiting."

She hung up. Unsurprisingly. Ryland let his phone fall back to his lap, the silence that followed like a weight on his shoulders he couldn't shake off. It was good to know they wouldn't be going too far inland, but at the same time, if something did happen and Simon was close by…

Shit.

Ryland had some scoping out to do. He took a deep breath, trying his best to memorize the feeling of Simon's hand against his and the way the merman stared longingly. Just in case he couldn't see him again.

Memorizing Simon was easier than he thought. Though, he considered, the merman had been on his mind every day since he saw him, so it wasn't too hard to commit the sight of him to memory.

Ryland flashed another smile, an honest, brighter one this time. "She said we're not going too far inland. Few miles. But she says some things underwhelming-ly sometimes, so we'll have to see."

The sun shone bright in Simon's eyes. His shoulders relaxing a little. His hand slowly loosening.

"Then go see. You know where to find me."

"I do."

Jeez, Simon's eyes were so pretty. Such rich colors with immense depth. Ryland got lost easily on any manmade structure, but Simon's eyes were a whole new league. Even glancing at them were a trap designated just for him, ensnaring him with a single blink.

Ryland swallowed past the lump in his throat, feeling each second tick by uncomfortably. He reluctantly let Simon's hand go and rose to his feet. The warmth immediately evaporated. "I'll come back. I promise."

Simon snickered at him. "Stretching this out as far as you can, huh?"

"It's called a southern goodbye."

"Just get out of here."

Ryland saluted before turning and starting up the deck. Each step, each echo of metal against his well-worn soles weighing him like a ball and chain. Except he didn't stop like he wanted to. Ryland kept going, forcing himself to keep the same cheeky smile on his face that Simon drew out of him.

He hoped he could see Simon again. If not, he might have to sign a letter of resignation and run from the world's most powerful woman. Easy peasy, right?