Felix_Space

big headphone ii you are so precious

When Simon first came aboard the ship, he honestly felt relieved to have another human around. In fact, he was ecstatic! Until one of the nights, a week into the new dynamic. He'd been woken up by Rocky, the Eridian frightened by Grace's sleepy whimpers and cold, clammy skin, sweat soaked through his PHM shirt. Rocky insisted that Grace be checked by Armando while he kept watch over Simon, and Grace agreed, just to get a second to pull himself together.

Ryland Grace didn't get any more sleep that night. His thoughts were swimming with the nightmare he'd just woken up from. Nothing happened. Nothing other than... He couldn't remember. It was all blank again. He'd lost time and all memories of Simon. He'd have to see Simon's face go from soft, warm, and inviting to sad. Not just sad; miserable. Grace couldn't get the image of Simon's heart breaking in front of him out of his head. The Ryland in the nightmare distanced himself even more from the smaller man as he saw that, much to the disappointment of the Ryland that was awake.

In the small time that Simon had spent on the ship, Grace saw the soft and comfortable way that could be in the future. His heart ached badly at the thought of ruining that. So badly that it felt like his heart was eating away at the flesh around it. Grace took out his notebook and started writing down every observation he'd made about Simon the Convict(-No-More) from the moment they met, and tried his best not to let warm tears hit the pages.

He hadn't even noticed the notebook was gone. Truthfully, he'd finished it months ago and left it with the other full notebooks to move on to another. It was only when he needed to go over some notes he'd made around the time Simon joined the crew that he noticed the notebook was gone. He thought it was his own messy nature, that he'd left it somewhere and forgotten where it was, but it seems that it had been picked up by the only other English-speaker among them.

"Simon...?" Grace fought the need to clutch at his heart when he saw the other flinch. When he finally saw Simon, the man was as small as he'd ever seen him. He was trembling, and he thought he heard him sniff a little as he scooted back, further under the med-bay slab. Until Grace saw a shift in his body language. It was familiar, yet not, as he's never seen Simon go from completely vulnerable to raging.

Three long strides and suddenly Grace found himself pinned against a wall. He tried not to let any surprise show, scared that Simon would think he was afraid of him. That would completely mess up the trust they'd built.

"You were just spying on me this entire time? Building a profile of me to sell to the COI, right? Spit it out, Grace!" The harsh words and tone had Ryland cowering a little, feeling powerless as he was faced with Simon's anger, until he really looked. Simon wasn't angry. He was scared. And hurt. The hand holding the notebook was shaking, and his lip was wobbling.

"No, Simon."

"Stop lying to me! They all lie-"

"Simon, I'm not lying to you."

"Yes, you are! Why else would you take notes about how powerless I am?"

"I didn't. Those aren't-"

"I read them, Grace! They are all about where my weak spots are and-"

"I was afraid!"

They both go silent, eyes finally finding each other. Simon was taken aback by the tears in the blonde man's eyes. He thought it was a reflection in his glasses at first, but then he watched as a heavy tear rushed down his cheek. He took an unstable step back, completely disarmed by the words left echoing in the room and in his head.

"A-... Afraid? Of... me?" Simon felt like he couldn't breathe. He never wanted to actually inspire fear in others. The anger, the rage, they were just to stop the helpless feeling. It was his protection. But Grace had been nothing but accommodating and patient with him. Had it been out of fear?

Before he could spiral even further, Ryland stepped forward and took his hand, notebook slipping out of it. It was cold, showcasing Simon's headspace. Ryland Grace wasn't a shrink, but he knew about the human body. He knew that blood wasn't prioritised to go to the extremities in times of fight or flight responses.

"Simon, look at me." He knew by then that Simon was safest when he was pulled out of his head. He wasn't sure why, or even about most of the details, but he knew that Simon's head wasn't a nice place to be trapped. Hence the call for attention.

"I was afraid of me." Grace took a deep breath, seeing the dark-haired man pause in front of him, rigid where he stood. "I was afraid that... that I would forget. Forget you, forget your little quirks and mannerisms, your way of moving around here like you're analysing everything around you. Afraid of forgetting the way..." Grace looked away, a blush warming up his face, shy about speaking his feelings loudly like this. He swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat and continued, a noticeable voice crack making sure to underline his words. "... the way you make me feel..."

When Simon slipped his hand out of Ryland's own, he thought he'd truly lost the trust, the connection they'd built. He never, not in a million years, expected to feel the rough, callused skin of Simon's hand being placed gently on his cheek. Grace looked up from where his gaze had fallen to the ground, eyes wide in surprise. Simon looked unsure, like he was expecting his hand to be slapped away at any second. But instead, it was met with Grace's own cupping it, holding it, warming it up.

"Really? You mean that?"