💫Amaze Amaze Amaze💫

You were nervous. Colt wasn't a bad driver at all, he was actually an extremely good driver, but you had a 30 hour road trip with the man you couldn't stand most on this dying Earth and 30 hours to nitpick your plan with him.

“Is your mom even okay with me moving in?” Colt asked as he merged onto the interstate. 

You shrugged, forcing yourself to hurriedly swallow the bite of burrito you'd taken. “I mean, I talked to her about it but I don't think she actually expected me to find you. The basement is all set up for you.”

“Cool. I won't be there often. I'm going to need to get back to work.” He glanced at his mirrors before taking a swig of his coffee. 

You frowned, slightly offended. “I'm working.”

“Yeah, two jobs, and you can barely support you and your mom. If you want to do all that training you're talking about, we're gonna need bigger paychecks. I'm dead broke, I haven't seen my bank account this low since before college.”

Your eyes bugged out of your head. “You had to use all of what Stratt gave you?”

Colt set the cruise control so that he could eat his breakfast while it was still hot. “Those tickets were expensive. Have you not spent any of yours?”

You hummed thoughtfully, picking at the foil wrap of your own burrito. “I haven't touched it. I'm giving it all to my mom when we leave.”

Silence filled the car for a while, then you hit traffic as you were exiting the city.

Almost quite literally. 

The people in front of you slammed on their breaks far too early when they saw the tail lights ahead of you in the dim light of sunrise. Colt slammed on his in response. Jean-Claude yelped as he was ripped from peaceful dreams in the backseat, your belongings flying forward beside him. Colt mumbled some colorful language under his breath, bracing for the people behind you to hit you, but nothing happened. 

Your heart had jumped into your throat. This huge plan to save your boyfriend, and you're gonna die in a car accident? Wild. Well, you thought you were going to. You didn't. Obviously. Goodness, you're sweating bullets. Especially because you weren't wearing your seatbelt for comfort purposes, and you slid nearly onto the floor. You would've slid completely onto the floor if it hadn't been for Colt’s arm shooting out to keep you in place.

When the moment was over, Colt didn't miss a beat. He reached around you, grabbed your seatbelt, and buckled you in without even saying a word before he returned both hands to the steering wheel with a deep, shaky exhale.

Another moment passed. “...Don't put your arm against me.”

“That was delayed,” Colt commented dryly. It was. It had been almost a full minute since he did it. “Listen, I don't need you to go flying through the windshield. Stay buckled.” He spared you a brief glance. “Please.”

You continued to glare at him. “...Only because you said ‘please.’”

You'd been in dead stop traffic for a minute when he finally spoke again. “What kind of training are we looking at, again?”

***

For the next 6 hours, you drove back to Clearwater, Minnesota, before taking a break at a truck stop to grab lunch. Along the way you talked solely about the plans, hashing out specific details, a training regiment, and putting together all sorts of scenarios in which everything can go very very wrong. Over lunch, you discussed the schematics of the ship, how it functioned, etc. To your surprise, Colt actually knew a lot about it already, claiming to have read your notebook.

After getting back on the road, Colt spent an agonizing amount of time on hold with his agent, trying to land a job. Eventually, he did get one; he'd be leaving in three days. He swore he wouldn't be at the house for most of the year because of work and training– you had a whole regimen lined up.

First of all, Colt needed to get his own EMT license. You'd have medbots on the ship, but in case of emergency, you can't be the only medic. Secondly, you'd both need training in weapons, fighting, a pilot’s license, and astrophysics– you could cover the last one if Colt took care of engineering; but you only had a year, and you both had to work on top of it.

You switched driving about 6 hours in, and about four hours after that you got a hotel for the night. You wanted separate rooms, but Colt insisted on saving money and just got a room with two beds– which made you uneasy, but he was surprisingly a gentleman about it. When you got gas the next morning, you took the driver's seat. Later, when you switched places again, fatigue caught up to you. You dozed off at some point, Colt's radio fading into the background of your hazy half-dreams.

Despite what you led everyone to believe, it was Colt you loved first, not Ryland.

It was easier to pretend that you hated Colt with every fiber of your being and push all of your emotions deep, deep down where they would never see the light of day, tucked beneath a cozy blanket of Ryland’s love and adoration and sprinkled with a nice layer of guilt. It hurt every day for awhile, but then it faded to numbness. A numbness you replaced with a substitute for true love by latching on to Ryland like he was your lifeline; you were a leech to him. You’re sure that he never felt that way, but you certainly did. 

You weren’t always a science teacher. Science– astrophysics, space, all of that– was your passion. While you worked to get your doctorate of veterinary medicine (which was your father’s dying wish, one you refused to disappoint him on because you had to continue his practice), you minored in astrophysics. It was strange for a veterinarian to do, but when you were a child, you wanted to be an astronaut more than anything in the world. You spent your entire life studying science and space.

You wrote a very controversial dissertation when you left school, on your way to get your doctorate in astrophysics: On the Subject of Life on Mars: Possibilities of Life Before Life on Earth. You were terrified to publish it, but your mother encouraged you to follow your heart. It was met with an onslaught of both negative and positive reviews, but enough traffic saw it to get you invited to a conference in Denmark, where you presented your theory to a room filled with dozens of scientists– and you witnessed a fiery Ryland Grace defend his theory about life forms not particularly needing water with such vehemence that he yelled, in a room filled of his peers, that the lead scientist was a “staggering waste of carbon.” It took everything you had to hide a smile at the absurdity of the situation, but you kept it together. You only met him briefly before that, but you didn’t see him after. It wasn’t until you ended up together that you found out that he’d been fired for that little stunt.

You got an opportunity to go to NASA, however. You had all of your bags packed. You were ready to go and follow your dreams.

And then your dad died. A bit selfishly, you hated his dying wish he bestowed on you. He owned a veterinarian clinic, and instead of wishing you well on your journey to NASA, he begged you to take his place at the clinic. It hurt your heart, especially when your mother insisted you follow in your father’s footsteps instead of chasing your dreams. You’re not sure why you did it.

You threw away your passions and dreams for a dead man, and you regretted it every day of your laborious return to school for a subject you weren’t passionate about. You became a vet. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but you loved the animals. You held a very special connection with every single one, loving each one like it was your child. You did everything; dogs, cats, horses, pythons, and you interned for a summer at the local zoo to get all of your exotic credits.

Deep down, you still wanted space. You so desperately wanted to travel the stars, to see the cosmos for all its glory for yourself, but… It was never going to happen. Not now, anyway.

You moved to San Fran after you got your doctorate to join a larger practice for a while. The doctor taking your dad’s spot at his clinic promised to hold it for you; he was one of your dad’s oldest friends, after all, so you trusted him to keep the clinic running smoothly. He had all during your academic years, after all.

In the animal clinic you worked at now, you saw a handful of regular patients compared to the semi-famous models, actors, and movie stars whose pets needed check-ups or medicines. Cats laying on velvet pillows and wearing diamond collars, dogs with claws painted silver and coats polished to a shiny sheen, and parrots so handsomely groomed you had to wonder if the owners had a grooming certificate. 

You had no idea who Colt Seavers was at all. He was just a stunt guy, after all, and he dressed like a normal guy. You went to grab your patient’s chart and frowned slightly when you realized that it was a new patient; as far as you were aware, you were booked out a couple of weeks for brand new patients.

“What is this?” You flashed the chart at the nearest tech accusingly. “Aren’t I booked?”

“He had connections,” Reese replied softly, chewing on the end of her pen. “Apparently the director of Metalstorm suggested us to him. His dog’s got a bad paw after a stunt gone wrong. Dr. Milan approved him, and said to pawn him off to you. Sorry.”

The name Metalstorm rang a couple of bells as an interesting story with a cult following, but you’d never really been a huge fan of Tom Ryder’s movies. You were more of a Star Wars fan. It was good, just… Not your type of movie. The other part of what she said stuck with you, though. “Hang on, it’s a stunt dog?” You instantly felt sick, wondering just how bad this dog’s paw was. The blatant disrespect of your person, however, made you feel worse. There wasn’t much you could do, though. No one here cared that you were once a candidate for NASA.

You forced a smile. 

Like you always did.

“Okay. Fine.” Holding the chart against your body, you made your way to the exam room where the stuntman was waiting with his poor injured dog. You hated it when animals were needlessly injured, and using them as stunt aids hurt your heart. You rapped your knuckles on the door a couple of times as a warning before you entered.

You opened the door to a man sitting with a doberman mix beside him. He looked up as you entered, greeting you with the bluest pair of eyes you’d ever seen. His hair was cut to messy, frosted tips on dark blond hair, and he wore ripped jeans with a Miami Vice Stunt Team logo imprinted on the back of it; which you only saw because he had to do a bit of a spin to get out of the leash. “Sorry, he’s usually better behaved than this.”

You eyed the dog, shivering with fear, on the bench. You fought a smile. “Even the bravest dogs can be scared of the doctor. I’m Doctor Y/L/N, I’ll be Jean Claude’s physician today.”

“Colt,” He responded, reaching out to shake your hand. You did, a bit awkwardly. Rarely did the clients introduce themselves, it was always about the pet– which made sense, but it was a refreshing and unexpected twist that had you smiling as you shook his calloused hand. “Colt Seavers. Nice to meet you, doc.”

“Nice to meet you,” You replied, a bit blandly, before gesturing to the dog in question. “What seems to be the issue?”

Colt lifted the doberman mix onto the examination table. “I think he twisted his paw yesterday. We were on a run, and we ended up on a rough patch of sidewalk. He slipped into a hole, and ever since he’s been limping.”

Inwardly, you felt a bit bad for judging him so harshly before. A pet could get injured anywhere. “Can he have treats?” You reached for the drawer that contained your secret weapon.

Colt nodded, scratching behind his dog’s ears. “Loves ‘em.”

You came to stand in front of the dog, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible, and turned all of your attention on his trembling form. Your voice automatically took on a higher pitch. “Oh I know, sweetheart, I’m so scaryyyyy…” You let Jean-Claude sniff your hands and get a whiff of the beef flavored treat before letting him have it, giving him a couple of pets and scratches and continuing to baby-talk the doberman. “Is your paw hurt, sweet boy? Poor baby, I knowww, can I see? Can I see?” Ever-so-gently, you lifted up Jean-Claude’s paw. Immediately, he yelped and ripped himself away from you, cowering in Colt’s arms.

You hummed thoughtfully and stepped back. “Could you walk him back and forth for me so I can see how badly he’s limping?” Colt nodded and stepped back, and to your pleasant surprise, began speaking in French to the dog. Granted, you weren’t fluent. The only word you knew was bonjour, but anyone could recognize the language. What was even more surprising was that the dog actually obeyed. “He takes commands in French?”

“Yep,” Colt replied, walking him back and forth. You definitely noticed that Jean-Claude had a bit of a limp. You opened the dog’s chart and hastily wrote a prescription for some medication as Colt ordered Jean-Claude to sit so you could finish the examination. He was fine with it as long as you weren’t touching his bad paw, so you finished as quickly as possible. Before giving Colt detailed instructions on how to give Jean-Claude the medicines. You were halfway through the directions when you realized how intensely Colt was staring at you with those gorgeous blue eyes, which gave you pause before you continued. 

“Any questions?” You finished off the exam, clutching his chart to your chest.

“Nope, not at all,” Colt stammered a bit, the intensity of his gaze unfaltering. It was like he could see through your very soul. 

You wished him a good day and moved on. But the next few weeks, all you could think about was the deep blue of his eyes. It was stupid, of course. You’d never see him again. And even if you did, there’s no way he’d ever go for a girl like you.

Or so you thought. 

He showed up with Jean Claude again only a couple of weeks after your first visit, but the dog seemed fine. Colt complained his limp was still there, but when you hastily disproved it, the subject was changed to what movie he was working on and how to keep Jean Claude out of danger while keeping him on set. Then it changed to your favorite movies, and before you knew it a tech was knocking on the door insisting you return to your duties– a bit embarrassing, really.

Two more senseless visits later that turned into long conversations that had you giggling like a schoolgirl, you finally had enough. (And you were getting warnings from your boss, which didn’t help matters)

“Mr. Seavers,” You greeted professionally as you entered the room, the techs’ eyes boring into your back as you entered. Colt smiled softly when you entered, gaze fixated on you. “I have to stop seeing Jean Claude.” 

His face fell immediately. “What? Why?”

“Because I can’t condone you spending exorbitant amounts of money on copays and using your perfectly healthy dog as an excuse to see me,” You arched a brow, writing another checked over, all is well in Jean Claude’s chart. “Just ask me out.” 

Colt made a face, flushing a bit. “Is it that obvious?” 

“Obvious enough for my managers to keep an eye on this room,” You retorted.

Colt fought a smile, averting his gaze briefly. “Okay then. I thought it was creepy if I just asked, I mean I barely know you.”

“It’s creepier if you’re constantly at my workplace,” You replied.

He raised his hands in surrender. “Alright fine, will you go out with me?”

A girlish giggle burst from your chest. “I’m free at 8 tonight.”

“There’s a fair in town.”

“Sounds fun to me.”

You were on Cloud 9 for the rest of the day, and it was fun. Colt won you any stuffed animal you wanted, let you cling to his arm, and got crazy sugar rushes together from the sheer amount of cotton candy you consumed. You rode whatever ride you wanted– carousel? Ferris wheel? Didn’t matter how long the line was, Colt waited there with you and would offer to pick you up and hold you if you got tired. You were two shameless idiots completely and helplessly in love. 

When he dropped you off at home, he carried your armfuls of prizes to the front door of your apartment. “You have fun?” He questioned, eyes glittering with remnants of your last sugar rush. 

You giggled, clinging onto your horse plushie. “The most I’ve had in a very long time.”

Colt leaned against the doorframe, grinning at you. “Want to do it again?”

“The fair, or a date?” You challenged, to which he smiled.

“Let’s make it both,” Colt answered, “If you’re up for the fair again.”

“I am,” You giggled again, giddy with this feeling he was giving you. It was almost exactly like a sugar rush, except you couldn’t get enough of Colt. 

“8 again?” You nodded and Colt pushed off the door frame. “I don’t want to cross boundaries, but…” He leaned down before you could process what was happening and pressed a kiss to your cheek that left lightning bolts dancing across your skin. “I had to do that. You looked really pretty tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow,” He hummed softly as he stepped back. Your brain fully and completely short-circuited as you shakily unlocked your door. Colt waited until your door was mostly shut before turning to walk away, but your body acted before your mind could process it.

“Colt?” You ripped your door open so hard it banged against the wall as you ran to him, disregarding his surprise completely. “Can I cross your boundaries?”

Colt froze, confused but intrigued. “Sure.”

You rushed up to him, refusing to lose your resolve now, and threw your arms around his neck to kiss him. He didn’t move for a moment, and you wondered if you’d overstepped. Then he smiled into the kiss and pulled you closer to him, enveloping you in his arms. You’re not sure how long you stood there, but he kissed you breathless on your doorstep until you pulled away. Both of you were dazed, drunk on each other and this feeling–

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” You rasped, unsure of what else to say and reluctant to get out of his arms.

“Me too,” Colt watched you with half-lidded eyes. “I can walk you back up to your door.” It was an excuse, of course, but you didn’t care. Every step equaled a stolen kiss as you tried to walk there together, until he gave up and carried you there himself, taking your breath away.

Eventually, you reluctantly pulled apart. You unfortunately had work in the morning, and so did Colt. While you spun around in dazy circles in your apartment, you were unaware of Colt sitting in his front seat and pumping his fist into the air before blasting Taylor Swift love songs all the way back to his place. 

Your coworkers noticed the shift immediately. How much happier you were, how you were kind of starry-eyed all day as you counted down the hours until you could see Colt again, occasionally texting each other how your day was going– with each message leaving you giddier and giddier.

You went to the fair every night. When the fair was out of town, you went swimming, did donuts in empty parking lots, stargazed on the beach, talked until you fell asleep on the phone– you two were utterly inseparable. You were in love with Colt Seavers, so badly that it felt like your entire existence was contingent on his. When you weren’t around him, it physically hurt. 

And you thought he loved you too.

You were very, very wrong. 

And very, very stupid.

It was just a Newsbreak notification, but its title caught your eye: Colt Seavers and Jody Moreno on the red carpet… 

It was dated for a few days ago, when Colt made an appearance for a Metalstorm promotion. He’d texted you and called you for most of his trip there, in fact. You were excited to see pictures of your boyfriend in his fancy suit, but when you clicked on it, you dropped your phone.

The picture took up the entire screen.

Of Colt kissing Jody.

Kissing her like he kissed you, with that same dreamy look in his eyes. 

Your heart shattered. But no, there has to be a plausible explanation for this, right? You texted him immediately, knowing he was off the plane for a few hours now and wouldn’t be at another event for a few more. Right now, he should be free. 

Who the hell is Jody?

Colt answer me

Colt

Who is Jody

Why is there a picture of you kissing her. On media

What is going on

Over the course of the eight hours you sent those texts, he never responded. His location was off.

Oh, you were such a fool.

The memories of the summer romance quickly faded to something tainted. 

You left work early. It was time to start over. You wouldn’t be caught dead in this area again.

You found an apartment several miles out of the main part of the city and quit your job. You didn’t want any part of that anymore. You couldn’t. Every doberman mix would remind you of Jean Claude laying with you two on the couch while you’d have movie marathons into the AM. Over the next week, you completely relocated, with a message to Colt at your job: Send Jody my regards, with the picture printed out below it. You sent him one last text:

Fuck off, city boy

Your new apartment was smaller, but fine. Everything you’d ever gotten from Colt, you stuffed in storage. Your apartment felt bare now, empty. You felt empty. Luckily, you were getting a job that sounded much better than your old one. At least, to you it did.

You were going to be the substitute science teacher for Grover Cleveland Middleschool, and you were going to erase all traces of Colt Seavers from your heart.

~~~ 

You weren’t aware that the picture was from three years ago, Colt quickly realized, damning all media apps as he read through days of texts you’d sent him. Days of texts he couldn’t respond to because he’d left his phone on the plane and had to fight to get his account recovered, days where you were freaking out and he couldn’t help you. Days of begging for him to answer, for him to give you a reason why he’d cheat on you instead of just breaking up with you. Days of you hurting and him being unable to help, or even be aware of what you were going through. 

Fuck off, city boy. 

He sat outside of your old clinic with the flowers he’d bought you in hand, realizing you’d blocked him days ago, probably. None of his texts were going through.

Baby that’s from three years ago I promise

Baby?????

Please answer

Pick up

Please

I have proof

Baby please come back

Colt’s heart was shattering completely. He’d already lost Ry, he’d never imagine he’d lose you too. Over a misunderstanding, no less. He’s sure you did plenty of research, but right now, all the tabloids were feeding off of the one you saw. Hundreds of pictures resurfacing of him and Jody’s relationship as people speculated how and when they got back together, when these pictures were all old. 

Tears streamed down his face as he booked it to your apartment, but it was empty.

Just like that, you were gone.

He sent you text after text, hoping maybe one day you’d unblock him, but eventually he got a call from your number with an old lady behind it asking him to stop. You’d changed your number, and now it was someone else’s.

He’d never see you again.

He stared at the last text he sent you, after shamelessly printing off your entire text thread before he could no longer access it and downloading your voicemails. 

I love you, please answer me

It was the first time he'd said it to you.

He never did get a response.

~~~

Six months later, you finally met the substitute teacher you were subbing in for and nearly had a heart attack.

It was Ryland Grace.

The guy who yelled at his peer that he was a “staggering waste of carbon.” 

Worse, you were suddenly very aware of how much he resembled Colt Seavers.

Granted, Grace wasn’t nearly as bulky as Colt was, and his style was entirely different. Nice jeans, converse, and a fox-patterned jacket over a button up; not to mention the gold-rimmed glasses. You’re certain that Colt wouldn’t wear glasses even if he had to. But the angles of his face, the dirty-blond of his hair, the deep blue eyes like the ocean– all of it screamed Colt. It hadn’t before. You hadn’t thought of Ryland Grace once since you’d left that conference, besides in a passing joke or two. But now that you’d had Colt, your brain was having trouble telling them apart. Altogether you wanted to punch and kiss the molecular biologist you’d only met once in passing, which wasn’t a good thing at all. 

He stumbled into the classroom with a to-go cup of coffee in one hand and a book bag spilling over with papers in the over. A bit smugly, you wished he’d trip over all of it and fall flat on his face– no, no you didn’t, that was Colt you’d wish would trip, not this nice guy. You shoved out of your seat and raced to help him, leaving the chair spinning so hard you thought it might topple over. “Would you like some help?”

Grace glanced at you over the rim of his crooked glasses. “U-uh– no, well–” You were already taking the coffee out of one hand and his lunchbox with the other, leaving him free to properly move the door and hold his book bag. “Oh. Thank you.” He flashed you a sheepish smile before following you to the desk, where you’d removed all of your things just moments before.

“I’m Grace,” He introduced himself, rushing to set his book bag down and take his other things from you. “It’s not to meet you. It’s not every day you meet the author of one of the best dissertations I’ve ever read who just disappeared.” You froze, staring at him like he’d just grown another head. There was no way, absolutely no way, that he’d read it–

“‘On the Subject of Life on Mars: Possibilities of Life Before Life on Earth,’ right? You were about to go to NASA before you suddenly vanished. Everybody always wondered what happened to you.”

You were still utterly frozen. How he’d recited that entire title from memory dumbfounded you completely. “...Did you… Did you actually read it?”

Grace nodded, although he averted his gaze and busied himself with his papers, almost as though he were shy. “Yeah. A couple of times, actually. I was always impressed with your theories.”

“Well,” You took a swig of your water, trying to dampen your suddenly parched throat. “I read yours too. Mr. Staggering Waste of Carbon.” 

Grace whipped around, putting his hands on his hips. You weren’t sure if it was supposed to be a glare, but he was also flushed with embarrassment. “You heard about that, huh?”

“Hard not to. You yelled it in front of the entire conference.” You couldn’t hide the smirk on your face.

Grace looked away again, setting up his desk. “I didn’t realize you were there.” 

“I’m offended. I shook your hand and everything.” You were only joking of course, but for a moment, he looked like he was afraid you were serious. 

“So why didn’t you go to NASA?” He pressed, and your throat tightened again. Another hasty sip of water barely helped.

“Uh…” You sighed deeply. “My dad died, and my parents pressured me into taking over his veterinary practice. You could say my entire career shifted into an entirely separate reality.”

Grace sat down. “What brought you here, then?”

You grinned in an almost Chesire-like fashion, fighting the memories of Colt away with your last threads of sanity: which was hard to do, sitting in front of his doppelganger. “A broken heart from a summer love. I moved completely overnight. Blank slate. I’m starting over. After this, I’m going to look for another job. Maybe NASA will have kept that position open for me.” Your dry laugh didn’t hit its mark.

Grace stared at you for a moment, contemplating. “How would you like to stay here?”

“What?” Sure, your new apartment was nice. You weren’t deep in San Fran anymore, so you were a little closer to the start of the countryside that felt like home. You loved the kids here, you loved the school and the faculty, and you were very quickly deciding that the move all the way back to Clearwater would be one heck of an ordeal. Or to Texas for NASA, for that matter. 

“Grover Cleveland High needs a permanent science teacher. I can get you in there, if you’d like.”

You said yes before you knew what you were doing.

~~~

A year later, when the sun began to die and the president addressed the nation, Colt and Grace agreed to meet up. He was supposed to pick his brother up from school that day so he didn’t have to ride his bike, and when he pulled up, his heart shattered.

There you were, the girl of his dreams, latched onto his twin’s arm like you were magnetized together. Giggling, blushing, smiling. Looking at Ry the way you used to look at him. 

When Ry kissed you, he lost it. Colt sped off before either of you saw him and spent the night at a bar. He didn’t even bother texting Ry, who tried calling him a few times before leaving him alone.

So did you meet Ry and leave Colt for him? Or did you move away and find Ry a better match, despite how crazy your love had been?

Colt decided he didn’t want to know.

He never wanted to know.

He buried his love for you deep, deep, deep below layers of faux-hatred that he could pretend were real.

If he hated you, maybe it would hurt less.

Ry was still his brother, after all, and the sun was dying.

He’d be damned if he let some girl come between them during the end of the world.

~~~

You and Ry’s romance took much longer to bloom than it had for you and Colt’s. You were three months into dating before you even kissed. After a year, you were considering moving in together. He was a perfect gentleman. You went on long walks through the park, dates to museums, and he even took you to an observatory a few times. 

The awful parts were when you remembered Colt.

Filtered through a hot pink lens and lots of neon, your romance with Colt was a fiery, chaotic memory of scream-laughter on rollercoasters, ziplines, fair rides, racing random cars, and donuts in empty Wal-Mart parking lots at 2am. You hated remembering him so clearly, so well, so fondly and longingly even after what he did to you. You tried to keep it buried, because Ry would never be caught dead doing anything that triggered an adrenaline rush. That part of your life was over, dead, and gone.

Maybe the worst part was laying with Ry on the beach, stargazing.

Just like you used to do with Colt. 

You never verbally protested to it because of how much Ry loved the beach and the stars, so you just went along with it while memories of Colt flashed through your mind every time you looked over at Ry. 

Eventually, you forced yourself to forget.

You forced yourself to put it somewhere so dark and cold that you’d never see the warmth in those memories again. You shrouded it in burnt sienna memories and fox cardigans and gold-rimmed glasses.

Or so you thought.

Life is funny sometimes.

Ry excitedly called you one morning to say that his brother had finally reached out to him and was picking him up from school, but was pretty upset when this mysterious relative stood him up. You were also upset, because you couldn’t believe someone would do that to him. Thankfully, he rescheduled and chalked it up to cold feet.

Now, they were meeting up at Ry’s apartment, and he wanted you to meet his brother. “So why are you two estranged, again?” You asked from the kitchen, adding the finishing touches to a marvelous Stouffer’s lasagna and frozen garlic bread since you both got off work too late to cook anything.

You heard Ry’s voice from the living room as he straightened up mounds of papers and books scattered about that had been laying there for months. “Our parents died a few years ago and he didn’t attend the funeral. Our dad was kind of an ass, and I remember him always standing up to Dad for me, but I figured it was their funeral. They died in a car crash. I figured he’d at least show up for that. But nooo, his job was more important. The only text he sent was ‘Kind of busy right now, Ry.’ He never forgave me for forgiving them, I guess.”

“Damn,” You hissed, shocked by the audacity as someone knocked on the door. Perfect, because the lasagna was ready and you were starving. The oven started beeping for the bread as you finished up the lasagna, so you couldn’t hear him greet his brother. You were a little nervous. Hopefully the food was good.

You heard Ry dragging his brother into the kitchen, but when you turned around, your shock made you drop the lasagna dish.

Colt.

Briefly, your brain wondered if it was just another look alike. But you saw the way he looked at you, you recognized the Miami Vice Stunt Team jacket, and you saw the tick of his jaw. 

Ry stood between you, confused and worried about you dropping the food. “Um… Sorry, I didn’t even think to mention we’re twins.” Silence dragged heavy between you three. You could almost hear Colt’s anger, where were you, where did you go, but the fact that he was angry when he cheated was worrisome. 

“I… I have to go.” Flee. That seemed like the only logical course of action. 

You shoved past them, abandoning the food on the floor and ignoring Ry. “Y/N? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I–”

“It’s not you, Ry,” You heard Colt’s voice and didn’t even bother to grab your purse as you sprinted for the door. He called after you with a sting in his voice he’d never had for you before. “You just gonna run away again, huh? ‘Cause that’s what you do, isn’t it? Run away instead of confronting someone and actually getting real answers?” 

You ignored him. He cheated. He’s in the wrong.

You bolted out the door and down the stairs with Ry hot on your heels. “Y/N!” He yelled, snatching your wrist as you tried to go down the stairs. “What’s going on? What’s he talking about?”

“Ask him,” You replied breathlessly, tears stinging your eyes as you struggled to keep control of your emotions. “I’m sorry about the food. I’ll Venmo you something for pizza.”

Ry took your face in his hands, something he would always do when you were stressed.

Colt, however, was never looming from the kitchen doorway, watching your every move when he did it.

You tore away from Ry and saw the hurt in his eyes as he yanked away like you’d burned him. “What the hell is going on?” Ry hissed, “Did he hurt you? Are you scared of him? Do twins freak you out?”

“Ask him what happened,” You managed again, swallowing thickly. “I’m not scared of him. I just can’t do this right now. Ask him what happened last summer.” Realization dawned on Ry. He looked like he was going to be sick. “Call me when he’s gone.”

You fled from Colt for the second time in your life, and hopefully the last.

You never heard the details of their conversation. You didn’t know that Colt played the bad guy so that Ry wouldn’t distrust you, that he claimed you found pictures of him and Jody kissing and he left it at that. You never knew that Colt took the fall for the break up so Ry wouldn’t feel guilty for it, and encouraged Ry to keep your past with Colt out of his head. 

You’d never know any of that.

Even when you and Ry got taken for the Petrova Taskforce.

Especially not when a distraught Colt assumed Stratt would have a ride for you and refusing to sit near someone else he’d loved and lost, had abandoned you at Baikonur.

And definitely not when you stood alone on a hill covered in snowy pine trees as you watched the Hail Mary launch with Ryland Grace aboard. You felt split. You’d grieved for Colt, loved him, lost him, had felt the painful memories and tug to him every day you were around him once they’d reconciled. Now you were entirely, utterly shattered as your saving Grace– quite literally– went to save the stars.

For the next four years, you were entirely, utterly alone.

Maybe there’s a part of you that hated Colt for looking like Grace, that hated Colt for abandoning you at Baikonur, that hated Colt for never giving you closure after your breakup when you’d loved him so hard. But mainly, you hated Colt because there was a small, miniscule part of you that was still madly in love with him, even after all of that. Which meant the thought of leaving Earth without him wasn’t something you could ever, ever do.

Maybe there’s a part of Colt that hated you because you’re the last piece of Grace he has left, that hated you for leaving without any real answers from him, that hated you for believing tabloids and the media, that hated you for not having the patience to wait for him, that hated you for loving Ry after he’d loved you more than anything in the world. But the main reason Colt hated you was because he couldn’t force himself to keep from loving you, no matter what you did. So when you suggested leaving Earth alone or getting yourself killed… He didn’t really have much of a choice.

You pulled up in front of your mom’s house around midnight, exhausted and drawn. You’d fought to stay awake in the last few hours of driving to keep Colt awake, since he insisted on driving the last little bit of the way. Finally, the road trip was over.

“Unpack in the morning?” You suggested groggily, to which Colt only nodded before getting out of the car. You were surprised when he waited for you before remembering he was only doing it because he has no way of getting in. Both of you were utterly silent as you approached the dark house, crickets screaming loudly all around. 

You glanced back at Colt, hating your brain for dredging up your past that you’d thought you’d pushed far enough away to never think about it again. Now you were going to be stuck in space with him. He was barely coherent, eyes half-lidded as he swayed with fatigue. Still, he caught your gaze. “...What?”

“Nothing,” You lied.

Colt snorted under his breath. “Liar. Are you gonna open the door?”

Oh. Yeah. You probably should open the door.

You made your way inside and led Colt down to the finished basement, where you and your mom had set up a couch, tv, bed, and lots of shelf space for him besides a closet and a bathroom. “Nice,” Colt commented softly, dropping his things on the bed and unclipping Jean Claude from his leash. He leaned against the counter, stretching his sore muscles by rolling his neck. 

“How’s your back?”

“Amazing,” Colt replied dryly.

“You know what? Fine, I won’t show concern for you.”

He snorted again, only half-awake at this point. When he met your gaze, you were like a deer in headlights. You detested your own mind as you forgot about Ry, as you were overwhelmed with neon summer memories that flashed behind your eyes of what you two had. As you wanted to let go of Ry completely, forget he was yours, rekindle whatever you had with Colt, since, at some point, he’d fallen off with Jody, since she made no kind mention of him when you got her number from Stratt; as you wanted to kiss him until you couldn’t breathe–

“Don’t look at me like that,” Colt looked away.

You flushed, averting your gaze. “Like what?”

“Like…” He gestured at you helplessly. “Like that. Stop it.”

“I didn’t–”

Colt inwardly rolled his eyes. “Why did you bring me all the way from L.A. to steal a starliner to cross six lightyears for a dead man?” When you didn’t answer, he continued, pushing himself off the counter to close the distance between you in a couple of strides. “Because you love him, right? You still love Ry?” 

It felt like a trick question. Although your mother didn’t know the history between you and Colt, you were suddenly once again reminded of how she kept informing you how horrendous of an idea this was. “...Yes,” You finally managed, crossing your arms.

“Then stop looking at me like that,” Colt hissed under his breath, deep blue eyes locked on yours so intensely you had to keep glancing away. “You made your choice, and I never got any kind of conversation or anything to tell you my side of what was happening. So if you’re dead set on it, we’ll go across the stars. If you’re not, I’ll get back in my truck right now and you’ll never see me again.” He waited for an answer, but when you couldn’t say anything, he stepped away. “That’s what I thought. To the dead man it is, then. Night, Y/N.”

Reeling from the obvious dismissal and too tired to argue, you turned around and went back up the stairs. You heard him sit down on his bed as he quietly added, “Nothing can happen on that ship. No matter what we felt.”

A surge of anger flared through your chest that you were too exhausted to fight out. How dare he insinuate you’d do that to Ry. You weren’t like Colt. “Nothing will, Colt. I don’t feel a damn thing anymore, to be honest with you. Just anger.” The silence following your words told you enough. You didn’t wish him goodnight.

You were afraid your voice would crack under the weight of the lie you just told.

Thank you for reading! In Chapter 3, we get to see more of their present-day banter and them stealing the starliner!

"...Okay," Grace finally relented with a sigh, turning his attention back to the Petrovascope as you started ever so slowly adjusting the ship's trajectory. You'd been awake for a little under four months now, and every ounce of your being longed for Earth, Earth food, scenery... You missed home. You wished you could have seen your parents one more time. They're probably gone now... You blinked rapidly to banish the thought. You hadn't talked to them in years, but would they wonder why you went on the trip? Would they know it was because of Grace? You missed their house... Most of all, you just wanted you and Grace's apartment back. It was cozy, in its own way.

No, you wouldn't think about just how much you'd lost sacrificing yourself so Grace wouldn't die alone.

Although it felt like you'd already lost him anyway. Every time you looked at him, he was Grace, he was there, but he was so, so far away and out of your reach.

He wasn't unkind to you. He never was. But even with him being kind and generous and thoughtful, he still saw you as a stranger. It hurt your heart.

"A little more... A little more... There there there, stop. Perfect." Grace slid out from underneath the Petrovascope. "I can almost see it. We're in loose orbit, so if we just give it a couple of hours I should be able to see the Petrova line."

"Cool," You hummed, starting to go for the buckles of your harness, "Can I stop being the pilot now?"

Grace chuckled as he pulled himself toward the door. "Yes, you can stop being the pilot now. Do you wanna turn on centrifugal mode so we can walk around normally, though?"

Wordlessly, you did as he asked. As soon as gravity was restored, you made your way to the dorm for some much-needed rest. You were going on sixteen hours of calculations and precise movements, after all. You both cleaned up before going to your separate pods. He'd decorated his at some point, covering it in drawings from the kids and some string lights he'd found of Oleysa's.

Yours was barren. It was a bitter mimicry of your apartments before you lived together.

Well, no, not barren. You'd had Stratt pack a lot of your personal items. The only issue was that it all involved you and Grace. He hadn't remembered enough of you yet for you to get any of it out.

"Y/N?" His voice rumbled from below, quiet in case you'd already fallen asleep.

"Yeah?"

"...Did Oleysa and Yao have one of these bracelets, too?" Your heart constricted as he continued, "'We will always.' It's a little cryptic. They didn't have one on them when they died, obviously, and I don't know if you have one, but... Forget it, it's stupid."

He was entirely unaware of the way you were staring at your own bracelet, a copy of his. Something you'd made for you both in high school after a particularly rough summer with your parents. Figure it out, yours said. Because that's what you two did. That's how you worked.

"...You'll figure it out," You promised dryly. You forced all emotion out of your words, fearful of revealing too much to him yet.

"You think so?" He sounded hopeful. You wished you could share that with him. All you could see was death with the man you'd sacrificed yourself for, and he didn't even know. It made you angry. At Stratt, at the astrophage, at Grace, at everything.

But all you could do was cry. "I know so," You choked out, every syllable fighting to maintain composure.

Grace was nice enough not to say anything about you crying. You were only separated by a thin slab of steel, but it felt like you'd left your Grace back on Earth.

"I don't trust this," Grace sotto-whispered from behind you, his breath tickling your ear, "I don't trust this at all."

You stood before a wooden, shaky bridge. As always, a few of Stratt's agents trailed behind you, politely doing their jobs yet ignoring your obvious PDA. You knew he was exhausted, so you wanted to make this quick. But only a few more days until the launch, and after that you and Grace would have your whole lives together.

It's the little things that matter right now, since you were trapped on a base in the middle of Russia.

"Trust me," You chirped, although you weren't too sure of the bridge yourself. "You always have."

"...You're wearing a dress in freezing weather. I don't know if I trust you anymore."

You couldn't help but laugh. It was a warm dress; long sleeves, a coat, and fluffy boots that the agents had procured for you in return for a few quick checkups on their families for free-- not that you wouldn't do it for free, but still. You'd chosen it specifically for this; and even asked him to go before he'd even changed out of his slightly-formal teacher's uniform-- the only thing he could wear to the formal events that required suits around here.

You took his hand in yours and raced across the bridge, dragging a slightly-afraid Grace behind you. He stumbled and nearly fell as you ran across wildly, a mess of laughter between the two of you as you came to a snowy, secluded outcropping with several telescopes. You raced towards the biggest and pointed at it excitedly. "Look in it! Look!"

"Okay, okay!" Grace laughed as he bent low, careful not to adjust the zoom. The star at the other end should've been bright and beautiful for him. "Oh, wow. It's gorgeous. Is that--?"

"Tau Ceti," You finished for him eagerly, "I found Tau Ceti for you."

He looked up over the telescope, beaming as he pulled you in close for a sideways hug. "It's beautiful."

"It took me all day."

"I figured as much."

"Alllll day."

"Are you asking me for something?"

You hummed playfully. "Mmmmayyyybeee."

He chuckled, kissing you on the cheek. "What is it?"

"Just an answer. Not even a promise. Just a someday or never will be okay."

Grace furrowed his brow, peering over his glasses at you. "That's... Okay?"

"How long do you think we'll be together?" You asked bluntly.

Grace blinked rapidly in surprise, like you'd just sideswiped him. "Forever, obviously." You flushed as he stammered to reword his answer. "Well. Not forever. One day we're going to die. But I mean, all our lives, probably. Unless you leave me, but I trust you. We've already been together so long, it feels like we've already been together for years..." His eyes squinted slightly, accusingly. "Why?"

"So we're going to get a house and a dog like you said, move to the country where we can see the stars, and grow old together?"

Grace wasn't picking up where you were going with this. "That's... That's the plan, why?"

You didn't even brace yourself. You just said it, caution be damned. "Would you want to get married someday?" Grace's jaw dropped slightly. He gaped like a dying fish as he struggled to form a coherent thought. You waved your hands wildly. "Not yet! Not any time soon! Someday, I said, someday--"

"What about next Monday?"

You stopped short, shocked. "...Huh?"

"It's after the launch," Grace explained, looking off into the distance rather than at you. "We'll be free to go. We can go to the courthouse as soon as we get home. Rest after. Then have a wedding. I don't want you to feel rushed, it's just, I've known you since we were getting out of diapers. I don't think there's much more we need to wait for. The sun is dying. The stars are dying. So let's do it." He finally looked at you, dark blue eyes sparkling as he reached into his pocket. "If... If you want to." To your amazement, he pulled out a couple of plain gold rings.

Your eyes met his, astounded. "Grace--"

"I got them earlier. I figured now might not be the best time, but we were coming out here anyway, and--"

"Yes," you blurted, heart pounding against your ribcage. Grace, who wouldn't take risks, who didn't take leaps of faith, was doing this. For you. His only exception. "Yes, let's do it. Let's get married."

Grace beamed at you and pulled you in for an ecstatic, snowy kiss. One of the last ones you would ever share.

You stared at your ring. It was a size too large, so you'd kept it on a cord around your neck. You'd found it in your personal belongings after you'd woken up, with all of your pictures of Grace. You wondered sullenly if Grace would ever remember fully just how close you two were and how close you were to a future snatched away from you. A couple of frozen trees and a preserved puppy couldn't help that.

A part of you wondered if it would be better if he didn't remember. You were struggling as it was, knowing what you'd lost, but at least Grace wouldn't die without anyone he knew (even if he didn't realize it). If he remembered, it might be a little more depressing than what he already knows. It might throw him into a panic, an existential crisis, or worse.

Maybe he'd just fall in love with you all over again.

Maybe it was best he never did.

Maybe you never should have come along in the first place. What if your presence makes everything worse?

A sharp thud from underneath you made you jump, followed by a loud groan from Grace. "Grace?!" You crawled toward your makeshift curtain at the foot of your pod and pulled it away just in time to hear him scrambling out of his bed. He mumbled something incoherent as he stumbled out of his pod, hair disheveled and glasses askew. You stayed in your pod. "What?"

"There was a lady," He slurred groggily, trying to pull himself out of sleep by frantically rubbing his eyes. "She was with me, Y/N. In my trailer, on the base, on the ship, she was with me everywhere. I can't... I can't remember..." Grace wiped his hands down his face before turning a surprisingly accusing gaze on you, brow furrowed tightly enough to crunch the bridge of his nose. "You remember. You know who she was. What was her name? What did she look like?"

Your heartstrings snapped. "Grace..." You'd never seen him so distraught. So angry.

"I remember promising to save her stars, is that why I'm here? I don't even know if I did this for her! I don't have any pictures of her! Nothing!" He took a couple of steps closer, grabbing the curtain when you tried to put it back. "You remember, Y/N. You know who she was. Can you at least tell me her name?"

Your mouth moved on its own for a minute. If he was remembering, that was good, but... But it also meant he'd remember why he was here. You'd have a limited time to make the best of this death mission for him so that when he finally figures out why he's here, it might have less of an impact. But forcing memories on him might trigger it before he can set himself in the mission, before he finds out why Tau Ceti doesn't have a Petrova line. You sat back on your heels and sighed deeply through your nose, avoiding Grace's piercing gaze.

"Why won't you tell me anything?!" His voice cracked. It broke your heart.

"...Because... Forcing you to remember everything can hurt you, Grace. I can't tell you anything unless you remember it on your own." Grace stayed where he was for a moment before throwing the curtain back and climbing back down. You imagined he was probably running his hands through his hair before sinking to the ground. After a moment, you heard the rustling of his jumpsuit as he made his way for the lab. "...Grace..." The swish of fabric stopped as Grace listened. In your lap, you ran your thumb along the edge of the engagement ring he'd given you before launch. Your chest ached with the struggle of keeping your voice level. "She loved you. More than the stars you're trying to save..." Hot tears streaked down your face as you remembered everything you'd given to be with him. To die with him. "...More than life."

He was silent. Then he walked away. Shielded by the blackout curtain, you collapsed in a heap of silent, violent sobs.

SIX MONTHS LATER

"Dirty. Dirty. Dirty. Dirty. Why room so messy, question?"

"Well I wasn't exactly expecting company, was I?!"

"This room for garbage? Eughhh..."

You watched in awe from the sidelines as Rocky, in his xenonite ball, infiltrated the ship in his very polite, but also very blunt, sort of way. A part of you was worried you'd wake up tonight turned to meat paste because he actually was going to vaporize you both, but. Maybe he wouldn't.

You walked around him, utterly transfixed. Rocky paused, standing up straight on his five legs, almost like he was at attention as you circled him. "Y/N interested in Rocky technology, question?"

"Y/N," Grace hissed, "Don't encourage him!"

You ignored him. You felt kinda bad about it, but there was an alien on board the Hail Mary. A real alien. Sure, you'd met him in the tunnel, but to see him here was different. In the bright, sterile lighting of the lab, you could see all of the carven tattoos etched across his carapace and legs. "Wow..." You knelt beside him, aware of Rocky watching your every move. "You've gotta tell me all about these, buddy. If they're not private or anything. And if it's not rude to ask."

"Not rude," Rocky insisted, stamping a foot excitedly. "Whole purpose in shapes. Mmm... Need word..."

"Need word for what?" You tilted your head, investigating one particular mark that looked strangely like the Petrova line.

"Something big Rocky does sometime in life. Happen rare. Very celebrated." He began to slowly tap each of his legs together in thought.

"Accomplishments?" You tried, thinking of your own career. "Something somebody does like, once in a lifetime? Something big you've done with your life?"

"Yes! Y/N understand Rocky better than Grace."

"Hey!" Grace cried plaintively.

You chuckled and shook your head, moving over to the computer to input "accomplishments" into the translator. "Well... I did realize he was pointing before you did."

Grace rolled his eyes. "All of a microsecond before I did."

"What's this?" Rocky rolled into the evaporator when he tried to look at it, backing away rapidly as Grace rushed to keep it stable.

Exasperated, he grumbled, "That's the evaporator..."

Rocky, meanwhile, whirled around to continue investigating. "Rocky will build workshop here. Will need much room for Rocky, and much less space for Grace."

You scoffed, aghast. "What about me?!"

Rocky paused, as though considering your request, then turned toward the wall. "Y/N can have more room than Grace. Realized Rocky was pointing first."

"Hah!" You grinned triumphantly at Grace, who only rolled his eyes again.

"Can you go see what he destroyed on his way up here? Please? I heard some glass break and I couldn't stop to look."

"Yes, peasant." You mocked, and all but skipped away.

You and Grace were doing a bit better. He stopped bombarding you for answers when he realized you truly weren't going to give him any, and ever so slowly remembered that you two had known one another a long, long time. He remembered living together, at this point, but not that you were the lady he was dreaming about. He thought she was someone he'd met on base, because he still thought that Stratt only sent you too because she recruited you both at the same time.

He still didn't remember loving you. He was fully convinced you two were just roommates.

You put up some pictures of you two now, adding a bit of color to your sleeping pod; but you kept the pictures of you kissing or cuddling tucked safely under your bed still. It still hurt. It didn't make it any easier to know that your Grace was still lost in there somewhere. But piece by piece, he was coming back to you.

Slowly.

Rocky ran past you like a steamroller, Grace hot on his heels (Would you call them heels?). "Rocky! Wait! You can't just modify Mary!"

"Rocky will get belongings!"

You couldn't help but smile to yourself as they ran by. Well. Guess you'd just have a new friend now.

It's been a week or two since Rocky's come aboard, and you are holed up in your sleeping pod, running some experiment models before you try to sleep for a bit. Grace was still in the lab. For these last couple of days, you'd been switching shifts while trying to calculate the best possible route to Adrian. It seemed to be the best course of action to give you both ample rest. Rocky would roll back and forth, intent on watching whoever was sleeping at the time to keep them safe.

You heard the rumble of his ball into the dorm and smiled softly to yourself, anticipating what was coming next. "Y/N still using human thinking machine, statement." The musical notes rose softly behind the sounds of Rocky's translator. "Time sleep, time sleep. Human stupid when no sleep."

You chuckled to yourself and leaned out of your bunk, checking the loading screen with a frown. It still had halfway to go. "I've gotta wait for it to finish loading before I can turn it off. Then I'll sleep, I promise." Your wedding band swung out from under your tank as you leaned down, and hurriedly, you stuffed it back in your shirt, glancing around for Grace. Thankfully, he was nowhere in sight.

"Ooh," Rocky perked up, standing straight on all his legs. "Y/N wear metal, question? Why hide? Is private?"

"Uh..." Of all things, you hadn't guessed Rocky's curiosity would be your issue here. "It's a human thing."

Grumbling with frustration at your hesitance to answer, Rocky began to roll away. "Rocky will ask Grace."

You all but fell out of your bunk with how quickly you flailed out of it. "Rocky! Wait! I'll explain! Don't tell Grace!"

Rocky paused, confused as he turned to stand in front of you. You sat cross-legged on the floor, taking a deep breath as you tried to figure out the best way to explain it to him. "Y/N don't want Grace to know, why question?" He kept his vocals low, like he was whispering. You appreciated that.

You ran your hands down your face. "...Your mate, Rocky. Do you have... On Erid, do you guys have some kind of official bond to make everyone know you two are mates?"

Rocky tilted his carapace, clicking his fingers like he was thinking. Then his claws found a teal patch of rock on his shell, right near one of his elbows. "Yes. Exchange piece of carapace. Vow to stay together."

Grief tugged at your heart. You can't imagine being in Rocky's metaphorical shoes... Although really, you kind of are. Except that you didn't have to watch your crew's corpses in the hopes that they would wake up, and your "mate" has been with you the whole time. You pointed to the teal piece of his shell. "Humans have something like that. We call it marriage. We exchange rings to let everyone know we're spoken for."

Rocky gasped quietly, in awe."Y/N marriage, question?!"

"Not quite," You bit your lip until you tasted blood, fighting waves of memories that you'd tried to block until Grace remembered them first. Memories of laughter, of soft stolen kisses in the snow, memories you'd done everything in your power to ignore. You took a deep breath. "Well... Uh... We'd never got to the ceremony. We were forced onto the mission..." You realized your slip-up as it came out of your mouth and corrected yourself sloppily. "I had to go on the mission."

Rocky took a couple of steps closer, his translated voice surprisingly gentle. "...How long you with mate, question?"

You started picking at the fraying ends of your bracelet, trying not to choke on half-formed sobs. "All our lives. We were friends first. We were just friends for a long time. And then... Then the sun started dying. We realized we didn't have long left. So we promised to build a life together." Shaking your head, you looked down at your hands to try and hide the tears that fell of their own accord. "We didn't get to."

Rocky was silent for a few moments, processing all of the information you'd just told him. "Rocky... Sorry. Rocky sure you will be able to when you get back to Earth!" Ah, yes. Neither you nor Grace had the heart to tell him yet that it was a one-way mission.

A bit more aggressively than necessary, you wiped your tears away with the backs of your hands. "Thanks, bud."

Rocky clicked his fingers together again. "Y/N say that we had to go on mission." Oh boy. You should've known he'd catch your slip-up. You have no way out of it, now. You can only hope the alien can keep a secret. "Who we?"

Down the hall, there was a crash from the lab, followed by a hurried, "I'm okay! Just dropped something." Briefly, Grace came into your view as he picked up the scattered mess of tools he'd just knocked over.

As though understanding something, Rocky slowly turned to face you and dropped his sensor in astonishment. "Is Grace Y/N mate, question?!" He whispered it. Thank God.

But you couldn't lie to him. You resigned yourself to your fate, prayed you weren't doing the wrong thing, and nodded. "Yes, but--"

Panic set in as Rocky frantically began to roll toward Grace like a kid tattling on somebody. Your heart dropped. "Grace! Grace!"

You snatched his ball as Grace whipped around, concerned. "What is it, bud?"

"Rocky," You urged softly, "You cannot tell him. He doesn't remember. He has to remember on his own or it could hurt him, okay?"

Rocky whirled on you. "Hurt?! Bad?!"

"Yes. Bad."

"What is it?!" Grace rushed into the room, disheveled from clearly destroying by accident. He realized you were standing there and furrowed his brow, confused. "Why aren't you asleep? What's going on?"

Rocky, struggling to process this information, looked back and forth between you both wildly. You minutely shook your head, begging him not to say anything. "Uhhh... Uhhh..."

"Rocky?" Grace pressed, hands on his hips. "You alright, bud?"

Rocky threw two of his "hands" up and rolled away frantically. "Nothing! Rocky keep secret! Rocky not say anything!"

Grace watched him leave before whipping back around to you, pointing to the retreating alien accusingly. "What'd you say to him to make him freak out like that?"

You shrugged, trying to play it off. "He asked me a question, I answered. It was personal."

"Personal?" Grace arched a brow, disbelieving. "You told an interstellar alien something personal that made him lose his marbles and eject from the conversation?"

You shrugged again, pointing to the mess of a lab behind him. "Well, I see you decided to redecorate the lab."

Grace's shoulders slumped. "I knocked over a toolbox. I hoped it wouldn't wake you up, but I guess not."

"I never fell asleep, to be honest." You reached into your cot and pulled out the tablet, checking that the status was fine before shutting it off. "I'm too awake to sleep now. Let me help you clean up the lab."

Grace shot you a curious look over the gold rims of his glasses. "You aren't going to lie down, at least?"

"Nope." The adrenaline-inducing panic of almost destroying the entire social status of the ship kind of ruined that, you wanted to add. But you didn't, obviously.

After helping Grace clean up the lab, you noticed Rocky huddled by himself in a corner, watching you two. You approached him cautiously, honestly scared he might run away again. "Rocky keep secret," He whispered conspiratorially, but a little too loudly. You hurriedly shushed him as he added, "Grace will remember! Rocky have faith."

His voice, right behind you, made you jump near clean out of your skin. "'Grace will remember' what?" You spun around and came face-to-face with his chest, backing up rapidly when you realized just how close he was. Judging from the sharp look he was flashing between you both, he was very not happy about being kept out of the loop.

Understandably.

"What will Grace remember?"

"Grace mate," Rocky piped up helpfully. Or, he probably imagined he was quite helpful.

"My mate?" Grace echoed, turning his full attention to you. "Oh, so you mean the lady I can barely remember and keep asking you about, but you say you can't tell me who she is because it'll fry my brain or something? But you can tell the first alien you see, is that it?"

"Grace--"

"Rocky leave before Rocky tell." Wise decision on his part, really. You wanted to follow him, but Grace had backed you up against the xenonite enclosure and you didn't really have anywhere to go.

"Grace, what?" He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared down at you. "Grace, I can't tell you because it could hurt you? Grace, I just can't tell you? Grace, I'm making up every medical excuse I can not to tell you what I remember because the conversation is uncomfortable?" You very, very rarely saw him as snarky as this-- and he wasn't even being loud, or mean. He never was when he was pissed. The last time you saw him like this, he'd just called his superior a waste of carbon. "How about, Grace, I'm going to tell you what happened because we're in the middle of space, this can't possibly get any worse than it is already, and you deserve to know what's going on." He took a couple of steps closer, making escape impossible unless you climbed over the xenonite. Which, you were about to.

Plaintively, you held up your hands. "Listen--"

"No, you listen," Grace interrupted, "Let's finish up what we're doing and get some rest. We can go to the mental health bay and talk about it. You can't avoid this conversation forever, Y/N. I deserve to know who she is."

Surely, there was something that could get you out of this. Maybe if you pulled up a medical list of reasons why forcing a person with amnesia to remember things isn't a good idea, you could convince him that it really isn't worth it. Maybe you can get around the fact that you don't want to tell him because if he remembers what you two almost were, the life you almost had, the life you gave up to be with him in death... His deep blue eyes bore into yours, waiting for an answer.

If he remembers, it could entirely throw off his concentration on the mission to Tau Ceti E. It could ruin his drive to save Earth and Erid. But... If you got everything together, all your pictures and letters to each other and mementos... You'd figure it out. Yeah. You'd help him remember, then you'd figure it out. But what if he only sees me as a friend now? What if he doesn't want the love part anymore?

"Tomorrow night," You offered, catching yourself moving your fingers like Rocky moves his claws when he thinks. You squeezed your hand to stop it. You didn't realize you'd picked up on his mannerisms already. "Let me... Let me get some stuff together. I have pictures and notes and stuff."

Grace pulled his glasses to hang off of his right ear. His hands found his hips as he nodded meaningfully, a few crazy tufts of his dark brown hair bouncing against his forehead as he did so. A breath of relief left his chest, like he'd been holding it. "Okay, fine. I'll take it." As he turned away, he shot you a meaningful look over his shoulder. "We can meet in the mental health bay. Maybe put on a forest ambiance or something?"

"Sounds good," You squeaked. It didn't. It really didn't.

Now you either had to think of a way to get out of that awkward conversation and showing him all of the pictures, or you just had to face the music. You weren't entirely sure you could do either. Maybe you should just eject yourself from the airlock instead. You glanced over at Rocky, who was peering around the corner curiously. Enthusiastically, he gave you a thumbs-down (thumbs-up, for him). "Rocky have faith."

Good.

Because you certainly didn't.

You sat on the metal grate of the mental health bay, trying to fight your trembling hands as you stared at a field of wheat. The fans hidden in the walls projected a light breeze, tinted with the scent of something that could mimic summer on the American plains. It really was nice. It was the closest thing to Earth you'd ever have again, so, you supposed it had to be nice.

You folded your hands together on the small box sat in your lap. It contained everything you had that might make him remember who he is to you. What you were to him. God, you're so nervous right now. You take a deep breath when you hear his footsteps coming. Please, let this go well. Rocky had the good sense to stay in his habitat, working on some experiments of his own. You're more than certain he's probably listening, but at least he's pretending not to.

Grace enters the room quietly, like he's trying not to scare you. "Hey," He says softly, and remains where he is for a moment. You brace yourself with one final breath (perhaps your very last) and smile awkwardly at him. He's wearing his white flight suit. He stuffs his hands in his pockets as he surveys the pretend fields of crops. "You're really tense, you know."

"Am I?"

"I can see you shaking." Grace watched you carefully before furrowing his brow. "You act like I'm gonna throw you out of the airlock if I don't like how this goes."

"You might."

Grace sighed, shaking his head, as he turned to the control panel and started flipping through options. The beach, which he surprisingly skipped. A moonlit forest. A mountain lake. He eventually landed on a pub. Soft, slow jazz music filled the air. Grace stopped. "Ooh. This one's nice." You fought a smile. Leave it to Grace to try and make something as comfortable as possible for everyone but himself. You're sure he would've preferred the beach. The lights dimmed to a soft, sleepy yellow. It felt like you were relaxing at an out-of-the-way pub in the 40s. The smell of old peeling paint, stale coffee, and cheap wine trickled out of the vents. It was comforting.

Grace was very full of surprises tonight. He leaned down and grabbed the box straight off of your lap before you could protest, setting it aside and out of the way. He grabbed you gently by your wrists and started pulling you to your feet. "You need to relax. If you're going to tell me news so horrific that I'm going to throw you out of the airlock, you need to tell me calmly. Maybe I'll be generous and not kill you."

"I am calm. I am definitely calm."

"Sure. I'm also the pilot of this ship."

"Well... Technically I mean, both of us are the pilots now..."

Grace made a face that said you were definitely joking about that subject too soon. He looked around at the fuzzy, floating lights of the out-of-focus pub. "Should we dance?"

Your heart jumped into your throat. You two used to slow dance all the time. At first it was for practice for his faculty events, where you'd always be his plus one, or vice versa. Then it was to relax after long work days, or just to be close to each other. But why not? The music was right. The mood was kind of okay, your heart was just about to leave your chest; not a big deal AT ALL.

Grace wrapped an arm around you with a bit of awkward finesse. He knew what to do, but his hand shifted for a moment before resting on your lower back like he was unsure where to put it. Like a well-oiled machine, your other hands linked with muscle memory alone, resting between your chests. Slowly, your bodies started to sway along to the drifting tunes of the jazz playlist.

Your mind, however, went somewhere else.

Your last dance before the explosion that caused all of this.

You and Grace were in your small trailer, dressed for a date you could never officially go on. You couldn't exactly leave base, but this was a celebratory dinner for just the two of you anyway. You were getting married in five days. What's not to celebrate? You wore something simple but nice, and he wore his teaching uniform-- he didn't exactly get to pack much else that was formal. He held you close, lovingly, like you meant the whole world to him. Like he couldn't get you close enough.

Grace's deep blue eyes locked on yours, filled with something like adoration. Like this dance was making him feel more than he remembered. "How long have we been friends, again?"

Deep breaths. Honesty is key here. Rocky have faith. This is the man you grew up with. He is most definitely not going to kill you. "We went to the same kindergarten." He nodded, urging you to go on, but his gaze trapping yours felt intense for some odd reason (it's not like you're going to tell the man you're in love with that forgot you that you were going to get married. No biggie.). You averted your eyes. "We quite literally grew up together. Every minute of every day, you were there."

Grace didn't seem fazed. "I pieced that one together. Mostly. I still don't remember everything." Good. Progress. Slow, but progress. For you, anyway. Lord it is hot in this room. Are you sweaty? Can he feel your hands are sweaty and still very much shaking?

Grace let his forehead fall against yours. "Crazy, huh? We're getting married? I didn't see that coming."

You tried, and failed, to suppress a giggle. "How is that more surprising than the sun dying?"

The memory seemed to echo in the mental health bay, like it was playing over the speakers. God, you just want to go curl up in your pod and avoid this. "Can't I just like... I don't know, write you a whole letter explaining everything instead and go on a spacewalk for a few hours?"

Grace chuckled at the preposterous suggestion. "What are you going to do on a spacewalk for hours?"

You stammered helplessly for a minute. "I... I-I don't know, I'll find something to do. I-I... I'll--"

"Figure it out?" He challenged softly, giving you pause. He said it pointedly. Meaningfully. Or were you imagining it?

Using only your eyes, you risked a glance up at him. Grace was staring at you, like he was scrutinizing cells under a microscope. He might as well have been.

Grace hummed thoughtfully as he leaned down to kiss you. "Yes. It's much more surprising."

You swallowed hard as Grace let go of your hand to push your sleeve down, pulling your half of the bracelet pair out of its hiding place pointedly. He wasn't looking at it. He already knew what it said. "Why'd you lie to me about the bracelets?"

Your heart fell. You'd hoped he'd have forgotten that. "I didn't think you'd remember we'd known each other that long, and I didn't want to freak you out."

"What about when the sun dies noticeably, Grace?" You whispered against his lips between kisses. "When the ice starts, and the food disappears, and everyone starts fighting?"

Grace half shrugged, making a point to tap your bracelet as he helped guide your arm around his neck. "We'll figure it out, remember?"

"Yeah. Guess we will." You smiled, utterly gone. You were over saturated in love, drowning in it, surrounded and smothered by this man's very presence alone. You leaned into his lazy kisses with hearts in your eyes as you leaned against him. "I love you, Ryland."

Grace let go of you like you'd suddenly caught fire, making you freeze. He took a few steps back, blue eyes wide as he silently took you in like he was seeing you for the first time. "Oh my God."

"What?" You squeaked, not daring to move. Don't throw me out of the airlock. He never would. But you had to have humor somewhere right now.

You could see his brain short circuiting as his hands flew up to his hair. He turned around and paced a few steps away. Very... worrying behavior to say the least. He stayed like that for a minute as your mind raced, raced back to the last time you'd seen him as himself, as your Grace and everything went so, so wrong... That night... That dance...

You two were a laughing mess as you fell back onto the bed in a heap. Grace was careful not to put his full weight on top of you, but ensured the kiss never broke. "God, I love you," He breathed, shrugging off his jacket.

Before you could blink, Grace whipped around and rushed to you, his hands finding your shoulders, elbows, face, like he wasn't sure what to do with himself. His eyes darted across every detail of your face, like he was trying to memorize you in real time. "Y/N," He tried, voice catching, "You... I..."

You waited. A bit impatiently, but you waited. "What?" You asked again, a bit more carefully.

Grace kissed you. Not sweet or slow or gentle, like you expected to happen, but like a man starved. You froze entirely, despite this being the man you were going to marry. Did he remember? Or did he just decide to kiss you anyway? He had to have remembered, right? You were overthinking. Genuinely, seriously overthinking, because the second you started to reciprocate it, he answered with deeper, more frantic kisses so strong you were sure they were going to bruise your lips.

"I missed you," He managed, wrapping his arms around you to pull you close. "I missed you so much it hurt to breathe, and you were right. Here."

"Grace," You sobbed, heart clenching tightly in your chest as you threw your arms around his neck. He's back. He does remember. Your Grace is back.

Outside, lightning flashed. Odd, it was winter here. It might not be the right time, but it was weird. Breathlessly, as your fingers tangled in his hair, you managed, "Was that lightning? Here?"

Grace walked you backward without breaking apart until your back hit the wall. "I should be mad at you," He hissed, hands trailing fire down your arms, back, stomach, anywhere he could reach.

"You should," You agreed, wholeheartedly.

"You know what," He added, grasping for the zipper of your flight suit, "You're right, I should throw you out of the airlock."

"I-I'd probably agree to that right now too, honestly."

Grace trailed the kisses across your jaw, down your neck. The misplaced lightning was instantly forgotten. "I really do not care about that right now." He pushed the hem of your dress up, finding the crook of your knee to pull your leg over his hips. "Neither should you."

"I should hate you a little bit," Grace managed roughly as you worked on his own zipper. "Just a little. For like five minutes. After."

"Hate away," You replied, still stunned from the rapid turn of events and not at all completely coherent. He started to pull your suit down your shoulders, but paused. His fingers had caught on the chain around your neck, the one that held the engagement ring hiding under your tank.

Oh dear. "Grace--"

Grace yanked the chain up, revealing the ring. Recognition flashed across his face. Disbelief, confusion... Anger. His eyes flicked up to meet yours as he stepped back, leaving you feeling cold. "You weren't a part of the crew."

The windows burst inward, shattering and sending glass shards into your skin. Grace cried out, covering you as best as he could as the glass skipped across his back. Dust and debris flooded the trailer. You're pretty sure you screamed.

"Grace..." You could smooth this over. Definitely. The heat had died and the mood was unbelievably ruined, but you could fix this, right?

"Are you okay?! Are you okay?!" Grace felt you all over, checking for serious injuries the best he could. You both were on the floor. You'd been on the bed, how did you get here?

"I'm okay," You choked, scanning Grace for any injuries. Your brain took on hospital mode, and suddenly Grace was a patient instead of your future husband. Neither of you could hear very well, ringing in your ears and head as you tried to assess the damage. "Let me see your back.

"You weren't part of the crew," Grace repeated, voice falling as the realization hit him. He stumbled back a step. "There was an explosion. The lab. DuBois and Shapiro were vaporized."

A chill settled over you as the memory of racing for the remains of the lab with Stratt and Grace flashed vividly before your eyes, moments before everyone was separated and dragged to different bunkers in case of an attack. The last time you would see Grace until you woke up on the Hail Mary, he slipped you your engagement ring and told you he loved you.

And now here you were.

"No," You admitted finally, "I wasn't."

"Stratt asked me to go instead," Grace breathed, and a hole filled your chest. Stratt had told you everything she and her men had done in great detail, giving you all the information you asked for. Grace didn't remember any of that still. How he was forced on board, chemically restrained... He still thinks he chose this. "I must've... I must've went, obviously, but... You..."

Grace looked like he was going to be sick. He stumbled again as he backed away from you. "I told Stratt not to bring you into this. I... I told her to give you the means to buy that house..."

It seemed to dawn on him then.

The fatal reality of what you'd done.

"You chose this?"

"Grace--"

"You chose this?!" You hadn't heard him yell in a very, very long time. And certainly not at you.

"Ryland--"

A shadow fell over his face, his eyes darkening. "Don't 'Ryland' me, Y/N, you chose this! You chose to follow me-- you-- why would you do that?!"

You flinched, staying where you were as Grace stormed out of the room. The soft jazz took on a bitter light now as you hesitantly followed after him, the harsh light of the dorm making you wince as you stepped out of the mental health bay. "Grace," You choked back a sob, vaguely aware of Rocky entering in his ball, as quietly as possible.

Grace whirled on you, tears streaming down his face as he grabbed you by your elbows, tight enough to bruise. "WHY?!"

"I couldn't let you come alone!" You screamed back, letting the sobs come.

"You could have lived a normal life--"

"Not without you!" You couldn't. You died when Stratt told you he'd be gone. "I couldn't stop thinking about you dying up here alone, starving to death by yourself, I couldn't, Ryland, I can't live without you."

"Die?!" Rocky gasped, inserting himself. He went ignored for now, which hurt your heart, because the panic in his voice made you cry harder.

Grace shook you-- not hard, but he was definitely angry. Tears streamed down his face. "Why?! Why would you do that for me?! I would've been better knowing you were safe, Y/N, and now I have to watch you die! I have to watch the woman I love die, and there's nothing I can do about it! Why would you do this?!"

"Because Stratt asked me if I wanted to go, and the thought of a life without you was worse than the thought of dying with you!" You countered, shoving him with all of your strength; not that he budged at all. "Stop shaking me!"

Rocky saved the day, rolling between you two with the force of a steamroller that forced Grace to release you. "Stop fight! Stop! Warning!" He brandished one arm like a scorpion, striking the air in Grace's direction. The teacher turned away from both of you, hands tangling in his hair as he tried to breathe evenly. "Why mad, anger question?! Rocky mate on Erid. Rocky not see mate in 46 years. Rocky would give anything for mate to be here. Better together. Alone bad bad bad. Sad, statement. Better together anyway." Rocky stomped his foot several times. "What mean die, question? You lie?!"

"We... we lightly veered away from the truth," you managed through the tears you were trying to calm. "We didn't want to scare you, Rocky. I'm sorry."

Grace inputted then, reluctantly turning around with his hands on his hips. "We had enough astrophage to get here, but not enough to get home." Grace leaned down to address him on his eye level as Rocky worriedly stomped. "Look, we got to meet you, we got to do all this amazing stuff--"

"No," Rocky protested, shaking his carapace like one might shake their head. "No, no."

"I had made peace with it," Grace pointedly shot a glare your way.

"What mean? What mean make peace?!" Rocky was visibly distressed now, staring hopelessly at Grace.

"It means..." Grace searched for the right words, "It means I know I'm not going home. I know why. And it's okay." It was a front, you realized. He was putting on the same brave face he put on for his students when he told them about astrophage even though it was tearing him up to imagine them dealing with the effects of the sun dying. Rocky didn't move, didn't say anything. Grace experimentally lifted a hand for a thumbs-up. "Thumbs up?"

"No."

"Tiny thumbs-up?"

"No."

Grace's breath hitched as he stood up. "Come on. We've got stars to save." You stared hopelessly at Grace. He wouldn't even look at you now, which tore your heart apart. "I need space for a few minutes, though," He said, hanging his glasses on his shirt. "I'll be uh... In the cockpit. But I need a minute. I need to process." Grace turned away, a heaviness clinging to his shoulders that he tried to hide from Rocky.

"Grace?"

"Yeah?" He paused, putting on the facade again.

"You Y/N are..." Rocky stomped his foot in frustration. "Need word."

"What word do you need?" You rasped, leaning against his enclosure.

"To risk self? To help other?" Rocky tried.

"Dumb?" Grace scoffed meaningfully. You narrowed your swollen eyes at him as he made his way to the computer; just barely, you saw the word he typed into the translating system.

Brave.

You sank to the floor as Grace made his way into the hall, trying to swallow your ugly sobs into silence. This had gone exactly as badly as you'd anticipated. Your entire chest hurt as you struggled to contain your grief for your life lost that you could now openly mourn, and for what would surely be the biggest argument you two would ever face.

Rocky lightly tapped one of his legs twice, fingers twitching rapidly as he moved closer to you. "How much astrophage you need, question?"

Grace stopped at the end of the hallway, reaching up to lean against its frame. He didn't turn around as he answered, a resigned sigh escaping his lungs. "2 million kilograms."

You wiped your face with your sleeve, taking a shaky breath as you composed yourself. You thought of the frozen dog and realized that even if you did unfreeze her at any point, she'd starve just like you two would. You weren't sure if you could subject her to that, but you wondered if there would be any way to grow some of the seeds from the vault. But even if you could bypass starvation, the ship would eventually run out of power, and then life support. You faced a painful--

"I can give." You froze at Rocky's words. So did Grace. Rocky looked between you two (or, it appeared he did), tapping his claws as he awaited your answer. "I go home six years slower."

"That's too much," Grace managed, voice strangled. You heard it, though: Hope. You didn't dare speak, not trusting yourself to keep from bursting into tears again.

As though to emphasize his point, Rocky used the handholds in his xenonite enclosure to come closer. "Rocky watch crew die. Could not fix." Your head fell forward as the sorrow clinging to his words ripped a choked sob from your throat. "Grace say Grace Y/N will die. Rocky fix." Grace emerged from the shadows of the hall with tears streaming down his face. Hopeful. Scared. Rocky tapped the xexonite pointedly. "Grace Y/N go home."

Silence, broken by half-stifled crying, filled the room for a moment. "Okay." Grace finally said, his trembling legs giving out as he sat down on one of the metal chests. His hands found his face as he bit back tears that came anyway.

The house. The dog. Trees, rain, wind, the wide open sky, home. You can go home. You can have the life with Grace you always wanted. But Rocky will go back slower. He's giving six years of his life for you. It hurt. There was no easy way through this. "Rocky," You breathed, and he turned toward you. You couldn't find the words, you couldn't make yourself talk to this alien who was giving a chunk of his life to save you two.

"Thank you," Grace choked, finishing your attempted gratitude for you. It felt like a very small, very weak thanks in the face of what Rocky was doing for you.

"Oh, Hail Mary," You breathed, not hailing the ship but the old life you left behind on Earth, echoed by your parents when something truly incredible or unbelievable happened. Words you said shortly before giving up life on Earth for the man you loved.

A beat passed, then another. Both of you were still crying, but neither of you had moved. "I thought Grace made peace, question?"

"I didn't mean any of that," Grace admitted with a dismissive wave of his hand. "That's just something you say." Grace heaved a shaky, teary breath. "Thank you." His deep blue eyes found yours, this time without the vague recollection and straining to figure out who you were. He knew exactly who you were now. He adjusted his arm slightly and you knew instantly want he wanted.

Without hesitation, you launched yourself across the space between you and threw your arms around his neck as he closed his arms around you in a tight embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "I love you," He breathed against your skin.

"I love you too," You managed before letting your sobs loose into his shoulder. Home, home, home. You don't have to die. You can go home.

Your embrace only lasted a moment before Grace had another idea. Shifting away from you, he kept one arm around you while he threw the other one around Rocky's xenonite ball with a hoarse laugh. "Come here." You followed suit, extending an arm around the other side while keeping a firm hold of Grace with the other.

Rocky, meanwhile, panicked. "W-whoa, whoa, what is happening question?!"

"It's called a hug, Rock," You explained.

"Oh."

At his silence, Grace added, "It's usually not something one does by themselves."

"Rocky hug too, question?"

"Would you just get in here?" You chuckled.

Hesitantly, Rocky leaned forward and pressed his carapace against the xenonite. You and Grace faced one another, each with a cheek pressed against the ball. You felt Rocky's heat through the material and smiled; Grace rubbed a few comforting circles in your back.

"How do you know when the hug is over, question?" Rocky tentatively asked.

"You just kinda feel it," Grace answered softly, lost in your eyes.

"Is Grace feeling it, question?"

"Nope."

"Is Y/N feeling it?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Oh. Okay. Yeah."

You couldn't help but laugh, but you were absorbed in Grace's azure gaze and the warmth of the embrace. You were going to get to live on that farm and stargaze for the rest of your life, with an unfrozen Laika. You were going to get to marry him. You were going to get to die of old age (if you don't die on the mission itself).

But, Grace was right.

First, you had stars to save.

Thank you so much for reading! I'm so sorry about the wait, and for dragging it into a Part 3, but I think you guys will like where this goes!