darling i won't let you fade from here

Ron does not, in fact, decide who gets to teach on Erid. What it does do is arrange class schedules around students’ and faculty sleep schedules, shuffle students into classes based on merit and availability, schedule thrums and meetings between teachers, parents, staff, etc, and handle slabwork (aka paperwork, but in this story the Eridians use clay-like tablets that they can write on by indenting them). Adrian didn’t technically need Ron’s blessing to get Grace a teaching position, but they knew it would be much, much easier if Ron was on their side.

Too bad that doesn’t seem to be the case.

mister grace ☝️🤓

Ryland never called this early in the day. 

Not since he’d been whisked away by Eva Stratt. He was rarely ever given the chance to call due to the secrecy of the mission, but when he did it was usually in the evening after a long day of meetings he didn’t think he needed to be present for, extensive astrophage testing and whatever other various tasks Stratt gave him. He knew you worked during the day too and didn’t want to interrupt until he knew you were home.

The unusual time immediately threw red flags up in your mind- confused and curious as to why he could be calling.

Was he finally calling to tell you he was coming home? With the launch this close, maybe Stratt was finally unclipping his leash and letting him go back to his regular life now that the fate of the world would be resting in the hands of three astronauts in less than 48 hours. Once they’d left, it was a waiting game. Surely they would give him some more free time now?

You barely answered the phone in time, quickly pressing the answer button before it disappeared. Resting the phone against your shoulder, you wasted no time with hello’s.

“Ry?”

Silence. 

Or no verbal answer, at least. There was shuffling on the other end, the brush of the phone against something but other than that, nothing.

“Ryland?” You pressed, checking the screen to make sure you’d actually answered. You had.

A suppressed sniff crackled through the line. Your heart skipped a beat. Something was wrong. 

“Ry, baby, are you ok?”

More silence before he finally answered, voice weak and broken, thick with tears. The last time you’d heard him sound even remotely close to this was when he’d lost everything after publishing his paper challenging the scientific leaders in his field. Only, somehow, he sounded worse. 

“They’re dead,” he whispered.

He sounded like he was still trying to make sense of whatever he was troubled with himself. 

You tried to pick through who he could be talking about, but he answered your question without you needing to ask. “The two scientists who were picked to go on the mission. The science officer and his emergency back-up. Killed in an astrophage explosion. A freak accident. It destroyed an entire building.”

Your heart leapt into your throat. That couldn’t be good. You didn’t know the specifics of the Hail Mary crew- who was going or what their jobs were- you just knew there were 3 going. And if Ryland was this upset about it, it was probably a huge problem.

“Ok,” you stated, trying to work out what to say, how you could comfort him, but all you could think of were questions. “Are you hurt? What does this mean for the mission?”

Ryland’s voice was so strained and shaky it was barely recognizable. “I’m ok, I wasn’t nearby when it happened but… there are no science specialists trained and ready to go on the trip.” A sound erupted from his throat that had your chest aching for him. A sob. “And…” he whispered the next part so quietly you almost missed it, “they want me to go in their place.”

The world stopped spinning under your feet.

Stumbling blindly backwards, your hand found the marble surface of a lab station and all but collapsed against it. “Wh-What?” 

“I… I understand Astrophage more than anyone. Stratt’s had me in every meeting possible pertaining to the mission. I know what equipment will be on the ship and how to use it. I understand the basics of the ship and its layout.” A wet hiccup. “There’s no time to train someone new.”

Your hands were shaking, trembling as you ran your free hand over your mouth. “Ok…” The backs of your eyes began to sting. “And… have you thought about what you want to do?”

The lab was quiet, sun gleaming through the open windows and sparkling off of the pristine equipment. It was tranquil. Complete contrast to the dark nightmare unfolding in your head. 

You would support him in whatever decision he made, no matter which path he took. If Ryland decided to go, he could save the world. Save millions. But that would mean leaving you behind. He would die in space. You didn’t know if your heart could handle the love of your life suffering such a fate. If he chose to stay, the guilt would eat at him for the rest of his life. It was a lose-lose situation and you didn’t know how to get him out of it.

More shuffling on the line and a heartbreaking sob. “I can’t. I can’t do it.” 

You wished more than anything to jump through your phone to envelope him in a hug at how small he sounded. “I can’t die. I’m a coward, I know that. I should go. I should do it for you. For my kids. For the world. But… I’m not brave like the others are- willing to give up everything to give Earth a chance. I won’t give up what I have here on the slim chance the answers to our problems are in another galaxy.”

He sounded so ashamed, so humiliated that he could even be thinking this way. 

You felt ashamed for being relieved he wanted to stay.

If you ever had the displeasure of crossing paths with Eva Stratt, you weren’t certain you could hold yourself back from clobbering her. How could she, or anyone else who had anything to do with this, put so much pressure on one man. A man who had people to live for. A man who sacrificed years of his life to help understand astrophage. And now they wanted him to sacrifice every year he had left on a long shot? Not on your watch.

Wiping your eyes on your lab coat’s sleeve, you straightened up and steeled yourself. “Ok. How did they tell you all of this, Ryland?”

Ryland cleared his throat as he nervously recalled. “Well, they strongly enforced the fact that I was their only hope. They said there was no time to train someone new in everything they needed to know for the mission. I tried to tell them I wasn’t the one for the job but they insisted. When I asked if I could think about it, Stratt said I had 3 hours to decide. I… spent the first two crying on the roof and then ran inside to call you.” He sounded so tired, so defeated. “Does this make me a horrible person? Choosing to stay?”

The fact that Ryland had to even wonder if he was in the wrong had you seeing red. “Ry, you are not a horrible person. Period. I would never think little of you for choosing this- choosing to live the rest of your life here, however much longer Earth has. Don’t spend one second wondering if I think you’re a coward. Not in my eyes, you’re not.”

“But… what if it gets out that I chose not to go, that someone less qualified had to go in my place? They could track us down- news stations, social media. They could come knocking and we would never know peace again. We might have to move, uproot our lives.”

He was starting to spiral, panic evident in his voice as he thought up all sorts of worst case scenarios and ‘what if’s’. “Ry-”

“What if it comes back to you? You could lose your job, everything you’ve worked so hard for! Like I did, when I stood by my paper. Can you live with that?”

“Baby, listen-”

“You’d be married to the person who let down humanity,” his voice wavered. “Married to a failure-”

“Ryland Grace!” 

He stopped talking. You rarely ever raised your voice with him. In fact, you weren’t sure you ever had.

“Are you listening?”

“…Yes,” he croaked after a second, releasing a wet breath of air through his nose.

“I don’t care about any of that. If that’s what happens after you stand your ground, then we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

“But-“

“No, we’re not going to worry about that right now.” Standing up properly, you began pacing the lab in quick strides as you worked through all of the thoughts in your head, piecing together how Ryland would get out of this. “Ry, they cannot force you onto that ship. Not when it will cost you everything. They have to understand that, right?”

Your husband made a sound like he wasn’t sure. “I don’t know if they do.”

“Well, they gave you the opportunity to think about it which means they must have some sort of backup plan. You were just the first and most logical option so they’re going to push and push for you to agree but you have to stand your ground. Tell them you won’t- that your mind is made up. They’ll find someone else. They have to.”

Ryland listened quietly as you spoke, soaking in your confidence and surety that everything would work out. With another sniff and a wipe of his eyes he deflated in a tiny rush of calm.

“Ok, yeah. You’re right.”

“Will you be ok on your own?” You question, already getting nervous for him- for the hell he might receive when he refuses a direct order from the most powerful woman on Earth. Ryland had a hard time telling an 18 year old fast food worker they forgot his fries. You can’t imagine him confronting the governments of the world. “You can keep me on the phone and put me in your pocket?”

You could hear the tiny smile in his voice at your offer. “I’ll be ok, promise. You’ve already given me enough courage to work with.” He paused, the slight click against the receiver of the phone told you he’d moved his glasses. You’d heard it a thousand times. A weak laugh. “I need a drink.”

With all of the stress he’d been under for years, and specifically the terror he’d endured the past 2 hours, you would have to agree.

“Once you decline their offer, I can’t imagine they’ll be keeping you on the project for much longer, right? They’ll send you home?”

Ryland hummed. “Probably. Now that I’m no longer of any use to them. Unless they want to throw me in jail or something for saying no.”

You laughed. “First of all, they’re not going to jail you. Second, how about we plan a nice dinner when you get back?” You smiled at just the idea. The two of you hadn’t spent much longer than a couple of hours together every couple of months in years. How nice just spending the evening together would be.

“I like the sound of that. Even better, what if we go out to eat? A real nice restaurant, like that new Italian place that opened while I've been gone that you’ve been dying to try? I don’t even care how much it costs.”

It was insane how giddy you got from just the thought of going on a date with him again. It felt something like your initial dating months. “That sounds amazing. It’s a date.”

“It’s a date,” he parrots, a smile in his tone. 

When he blew air out of his nose and cleared his throat, you knew what was coming next. “I have to go. Stratt will be waiting for me.”

Why was this feeling like a much bigger goodbye than it was?

“Ok… good luck, Ryland. Everything will be ok. I promise.”

“Thank you. I love you.” There was a waver in his tone again. You’d run out of things to say to try to comfort him.

“I love you too.”

Click.

-

Two days later, while watching the Hail Mary launch in your small living room after taking the day off of work, curled up on the couch in anticipation, your world turned on its head.

The launch was successfull- 3 brave astronauts leaving Earth’s orbit and beginning their unconscious journey to the reaches of space no man made thing had ever gone before to save the world.

People were celebrating- praying for their safe travels and the hope of a solution.

You, however, were not celebrating.

When the news broadcast announced the names of the 3 heroes, splattering their pictures on the screen, your heart broke to the point of no return.

Ryland Grace.

His picture was cheerful- he was smiling, bright, hopeful- just like how the other two astronauts were depicted.

Ryland was on that ship.

He’d gone on the mission. 

A one-way trip.

To die.

And he hadn’t told you.

You were sick for weeks.

During the first initial hours of the launch, you had been in a trance. Staring blankly at the TV that had all sorts of things to say about the mission- facts that the government finally released and made public; things about the ship, the mission, the star they were headed to, the crew. Every channel, no matter what usually played, broadcasted the same footage. Over and over and over.

The Hail Mary taking off. Flying into the sky at breakneck speeds. And disappearing.

Once you’d snapped out of your trance some hours later, you wailed. Collapsing onto the floor and throwing up everything in your system, you wept. And wept. And wept. And didn’t stop for several hours more.

It took days for the tears to dry up. From there, you just became numb to everything.

Your phone rang and rang and dinged and dinged with messages. Family, friends, coworkers, people you’d barely ever spoken to who had your number- all of them sending their love and thanks. Thanks for Ryland and his bravery. Thanks for you and your strength and sacrifice to give up the man you loved for the greater good.

Their words only made it worse.

You never left your apartment, you didn’t go to work, you rarely ate. You barely slept, although you wished more than anything you could- if only to escape this reality. But then again, the nightmares always found you in your dreams too.

Ample amounts of time alone in the dead quiet of your apartment gave you a lot of time to think.

And think.

And think.

So much thinking eventually led to the inevitable: questions.

Ryland had been so terrified at the mere thought of being sent into space. You could hear it when he’d called you; when he’d cried with you. Even before the mission, before he’d been wrapped into everything, he’d talked about how little of a desire he had to go to space if he was given the opportunity. Yes, he’d spent much of his life studying the stars, the potential biology of other worlds and loved teaching his students about it. But he never wanted to actually go.

It didn’t make sense; how he would’ve changed his mind so quickly. 

And how he changed his mind and didn’t tell you.

It wasn’t like him. Even if he had changed his mind, he would’ve let you know. Probably would’ve fought tooth and nail for the clearance to fly out that second and see you beforehand to tell you in person. 

He’d sounded so eager to come home. So excited for your date.

You’d had plans of a future with him. He wanted kids. Whether or not that would’ve happened, with the end of the world rather close by and all, you probably would’ve reconsidered but Ryland wouldn’t have given up that slight possibility of a family.

With every passing thought, one thing remained abundantly clear to you- he must’ve been forced.

Somehow, someway, they’d forced Ryland onto that ship.

Blackmail, threats, or perhaps they’d genuinely just shoved him onto the ship and buckled him in.

Maybe you were just trying to make yourself feel better, maybe you were trying to find some kind of solace in the hell you’d found yourself in.

But you refused to believe any different. For your own sake.

-

You’d never been to a prison before.

Not as an inmate or a visitor.

And you could confidently say you never wanted to go inside a prison again.

It was bleak, cold and still; officers abundant in the hallways as you were led into the facility. You felt out of place.

No, you didn’t want to be here. But you had business to attend to before you could leave in good conscience.

Eva Stratt was a bitch to track down.

After the Hail Mary launch, Stratt evidently had a long line of people who wanted her arrested for the slew of crimes she’d committed to complete Project Hail Mary. You didn’t know many details, not everything was public, but after years of searching and searching you finally found where she was held- currently serving a sentence in a U.S federal prison. She had most likely been trucked around to several nations of the world to be tried for her crimes for the past couple of years, but just so happened to find herself back within your reach. Lucky you.

It was a process and a half to get approved to visit. Background checks, applications, phone calls as to why you could possibly want to meet with her. Stratt herself also had to approve your visit, which she surprisingly had. Maybe she’d assumed you’d find her eventually and expected your confrontation. Whatever the case, you couldn’t decide if you were eager or dreading to hear what came out of her mouth.

Stratt wasn’t quite what you pictured. She looked a little weathered, no doubt from her years in courtrooms and cells, but she still sat with an aura of authority that was, frankly, impressive.

Behind the glass pane, she watched quietly as you moved to sit on the other side, carefully watching her back as you shrugged off your coat. It was mid-July but you wouldn’t know it. The temperature was gradually dropping, making summer feel like fall. The sun was dying exponentially, and soon the world would fall into an eternal winter. You doubted you’d ever wear shorts again.

Draping your coat over the chair opposite of Stratt, you dropped into the seat and took a second to steady your emotions. This felt like the conclusion to the very long, very difficult story you’d been living in ever since Ryland left. It took a long time to come to terms with what had happened, and now all you wanted was closure. To see if what you truly believed with your whole heart was true. And maybe to punch Stratt in the face, but that part of your dream wasn’t achievable given the environment you had to converse in.

Neither of you spoke, daring the other to speak first. It was an uncomfortable couple of minutes. You were pretty certain the guards that watched were starting to fidget too. When she finally spoke, the crackle of the small intercom between the glass panels grated against your ears.

“I was wondering when you would find me.” 

Stratt’s accent was thick, just as Ryland said it was. A European accent. You didn’t care to ponder which one.

“It’s not easy tracking down the most criminally decorated human being in the world. They’ve been keeping your whereabouts close to the chest so I’m just surprised I got lucky enough that you’re locked up here right now and not halfway across the globe.”

She didn’t blink at your jab, that she indeed had a mile’s long list of crimes under her belt and would likely spend the rest of her life in prisons. Or maybe humanity would die first and her crimes wouldn’t really matter anyway. You hoped it would be the former. Justice, for what (you assumed) she did.

“Lucky me,” she nodded. “Although I suppose you would’ve flown to find me wherever I wound up.”

Stratt knew she was right and it made you angry knowing that she knew that. You would’ve flown to the remnants of Antarctica if that’s where they were keeping her. Anything for the answers you needed.

When you only glared, Stratt waved her hand in the air like she was batting away a fly. “Enough of the pleasantries. You came here for a reason. You want answers. So ask for them.”

The threads of your sweater shook under your grasp. She was being so casual about this- about what she’d done. Like it didn’t matter. Like he didn’t matter.

“The truth,” you whispered, so quiet you weren’t even sure the intercom relayed it to her. “I just want the truth.”

“The truth? He was our only hope. The only person who could’ve replaced the two scientists we lost.”

“I understand that. So did Ryland. He knew the risks and he knew the stakes. But even then, he said he couldn’t so it- couldn’t risk his life for a long shot. He’d told me that not 20 minutes before going to meet with you!” Your voice cracked. “Then I see his face on my TV screen.”

You tried to blink away your tears. You would not give this woman the satisfaction of seeing you cry. She would probably get a kick out of it. “He would’ve told me if he changed his mind. But he didn’t. So I don’t believe he went on that ship of his own volition. You’re going to tell me the truth. I don’t want the fabricated story that’s been fed to the press for years. I’m done with the bullshit.”

Stratt didn’t talk for a while, mulling over your words and even, dare you say, look a little hesitant to answer. It didn’t make you feel any better.

“You’re right,” she stated, nodding and clasping her hands together on the desk between the two of you. “With the launch so close, we couldn’t waste anymore time training someone new. It would set us back months and increase the potential for casualties here, which we couldn’t risk- not if it meant the astronauts might find a solution the tiniest bit sooner. So, I had no choice.”

The way she said it, quiet and reverent, had your heart in your throat. You’d always assumed the worst, but now hearing maybe you weren’t so crazy didn’t make you feel better. “What did you do to him?”

“We induced his coma early. It was the safest option.”

She didn’t say it outright, but you could read between the lines. “You drugged him,” you breathed. “You forced him into that coma and shoved him onto that ship unconscious.”

Horrified. You were truly horrified. 

Stratt didn’t deny what you’d said, only looking down at her hands. She sort of looked ashamed. “I didn’t want to resort to force, as surprising as that might sound. I know how you must think of me. I wanted him to decide to go on his own- to find the courage to do it for you. But he didn’t, so I had to think of the greater good. One man’s life is not worth the lives of the billions he could save.”

Hearing her talk about Ryland’s life so casually, tore something in your soul. “Ryland’s life might not’ve been worth it to you, but it was worth everything to me.” Your tears flowed freely now, to hell with Stratt and what she might think of you.

She nodded gently. “I understand.”

“No. You don’t,” you sneer.

You wanted to ask her more- ask specifically how they’d drugged him. Was it a sleeping pill slipped through a harmless drink? Chloroform? Brute force and an injection? Did he fight back? Was he scared? 

You were going to be sick all over again. You wanted this conversation to help- to help you find a semblance of peace. It hadn’t worked.

Snapping to your feet so forcefully your chair fell backward, you gave Stratt a look full of so much malice even she seemed to downcast her eyes. “His death is on your conscience Eva Stratt. For the rest of your life. You deserve to live the rest of Earth’s days behind bars thinking about what you did. I will never forgive you and I hope to God I never have to see you again.”

Snatching your coat from the floor, you buried your mouth into the fabric and began to sob as a guard began leading you away. You didn’t look back at Stratt, didn’t care to see how she reacted to your harsh words. She probably didn’t react at all. 

-

“Don’t forget to draw the life cycle of a plant before class next week, ok?”

A chorus of agreements and goodbyes greeted you as your ten little students rushed through the metal doorway of your small classroom into the LED illuminated halls beyond. You couldn’t help but smile at their eagerness for the weekend, when they had no class and could do as they pleased. At least, as much as the underground facility you all called home now would allow.

A couple of decades have passed since Ryland was taken from you. There had been no word from the ship ever since. Hope had mostly vanished that the astronauts had found something worthwhile at Tau Ceti, or that they had even survived the journey there at all. Some believers still prayed that a solution would find its way back to you, but with every passing day, it seemed useless to keep wishing.

The world had frozen over, just like the scientists of the world (yourself included) expected. The surface of the Earth was practically unlivable now, at least permanently. People still ventured out for resources, but they were met with an icy, windy tundra. A lot of humanity had died those first several years. Starvation, hypothermia, panic induced suicide. You were surprised you’d managed to stay alive this long. 

Those who did survive the initial years of dangerous temperatures moved underground in large facilities where geothermal heat could be utilized, constructing little… colonies of sorts. Everyone got new jobs, since a lot of jobs became obsolete, jobs that would further the new civilization. With your science background, you helped some with underground agriculture, testing new ways to farm and grow crops to withstand colder temperatures. While that took some time, farming techniques were practically mastered now so you weren’t needed much for that anymore. 

To keep your mind busy, you found another way to find a fulfilling life.

Kids weren’t very commonplace- most couples choosing not to have kids in order to save them from a miserable life underground- but the few kids who were born needed an education. You figured it was a way to keep Ryland close. 

It was immediately clear that you weren’t nearly as good of a teacher as he was, but you found a rhythm eventually and saw how easy it was to get attached to your students. You taught science to a little pack of 3rd graders. Even though some lessons weren’t as applicable to their lives, such as learning about various animals (it was assumed many species had been wiped out), and learning about stars they couldn’t see, you still taught them. These children didn’t know life outside of the facility, only occasionally getting a glimpse of the frozen horizon. You wanted to give them a peak into what life was like and what it might return to. If they were lucky. 

Scooping up piles of colored pencils, you straightened out your classroom for the weekend. You had plans to enjoy yourself at the little bar a couple stories down, like you did most weekends. It was nice to take a couple of shots and loosen up. You had some friends here you spent your time with, a couple of individuals who had no one else, just like you. You found solace in each other.

As you picked tiny pieces of paper off of the hard carpet under some desks, you didn’t notice the click of shoes against the concrete floors outside your classroom until they came to a stop just inside the door.

“Doctor Grace?”

You froze in place. That title was something of the past. Your PhD didn’t hold much meaning anymore, so it was an honorific you’d abandoned. Besides, the title felt like it belonged to Ryland much more than it belonged to you. 

But that voice. The accent.

Surprise. Fear. Anger. Many emotions flooded your body at once.

Using a desk to help you back to your feet, you came eye to eye with the one person you truly never thought you’d see again.

After the world really turned to shit and the surface became increasingly less and less habitable, the government had to decide what to do with the people under their care. Prisoners who had no history of violent crimes or who had only committed lesser crimes were let go to fend for themselves, while the real dangerous criminals were put into prison under the surface. There was no use keeping around more mouths to feed than what was needed.

You didn’t know if Stratt was even still in the US when this had all been decided, or if she’d already been trucked off to another country to serve time elsewhere. You hadn’t cared enough to check. Apparently, the governments of the world decided her crimes weren’t terrible enough to keep her incarcerated and use up their limited resources. Or maybe she’d escaped and ran. There was a lot of chaos during those days, you wouldn’t really be surprised if some inmates slipped through the cracks.

“I told you I never wanted to see you again,” you said, voice slightly wavering but firm. 

“You said you’d hoped you’d never see me again.”

Glare.

“I have news.”

The room became so quiet you could hear the usually silent thrum of the HVAC system in the walls.

“News?” Surely, it was too good to be true. She probably had news about something else. Although why she thought it was important for you to hear was a mystery. How she’d managed to track you down was also something that didn’t sit right.

“A probe returned from Tau Ceti. With an astrophage predator.”

Your brain was running in circles. What did this mean?

“A predator? Like, something that could eat the astrophage on the sun and balance the population? Something that could save the Earth?”

Stratt nodded, a gleam in her eyes that you hadn’t seen the one time you’d met her. She was way older now, probably at least in her 60s or 70s, wrinkles sprinkled on her face and hair silvered- but she seemed happy. “We’re preparing a launch as soon as possible to deliver the predator to Venus. The notes we were given with the predator have made us believe that they should work quickly. It’s undetermined how long it will take for the Earth to defrost, but at least it will stop getting colder.”

Your breath was heavy, keeping the tight grasp on the desk next to you to stay standing. Was this really happening? This hell is over? Maybe not soon, and maybe not in your lifetime, but one day. 

The Hail Mary was successful. They’d made it to Tau Ceti and found something to save what was left of humanity. They were truly heroes now. And…

“The notes that were sent with the predator… are they from Ryland?”

A gentle nod.

You broke.

Ryland had survived and saved the world. Your Ryland.

“The predator came with a lot of video logs. Some of them are addressed specifically for you.” You let out a choked sob. “We’ve already made a copy of the flashdrive to take the videos we need, and left the original for you to have.”

She reached into the bag at her side and pulled out a small gray flash drive along with a little figurine you couldn’t make out. You weren’t able to find any words as she approached and slid the two objects across the desk. Videos. For you. From Ryland. Would you even be able to handle seeing his face again after so long?

Stratt turned to leave when you stayed silent, but paused as you finally, quietly said, “Thank you. I still hate you, but… thank you for this.”

A nod of acknowledgement and she was gone.

-

In the dark, cramped space of your bedroom, your hands shook violently as you plugged the flashdrive into your laptop. It was night hours now, the compound quiet and peaceful. The glow of the screen was the only source of light in the room, shining off of the metal walls and the little metal man you held tightly in your hands. You didn’t know what the purpose of the figurine was, but Stratt had given it to you so it must be something that held meaning to Ryland.

A moment later, a file popped up on the screen labeled ‘Hail Mary Footage Surveillance’. Your cursor hovered over the beige file for several minutes. When you finally double-clicked the icon, a huge list of videos popped up, sorted by date. There were hundreds of them. There were tiny pictures next to the dates- tiny snapshots of what was happening in each video. In what seemed like every single one, tiny glimpses of Ryland and his life on the ship. The tears were instant.

It didn’t get any better from there once you actually began watching. All night and all weekend, you spent every second watching hours upon hours of video footage of the ship and the video logs Ryland eventually started making.

An emotional rollercoaster, to say the least.

Terror at the fact that Ryland did not remember what had happened to him or why he was in space. Some sort of amnesia affect from the coma or something. He’d seemed so scared and lost, remembering practically nothing about who he was before he woke up. 

Joy that he remembered you at least- dedicating a whole column of his whiteboard to facts he could recall about you (wife, scientist, funny, coffee over tea, sleeps with window open, likes fantasy, selfless, loves me, loves my students, good kisser!). He’d blushed and erased the last one, thought about it, pursed his lips, then wrote it again with an embarrassed sigh. It made you laugh. 

Awe at the spaceship he stumbled across at Tau Ceti. It’s massive and intricate design unlike anything that humans had ever made. 

Pure, immediate love for the little alien that terrorized your husband day in and day out.

Devastation at the first video log made specifically for you. 

You’d giggled at Rocky’s eagerness to speak to you, telling you all about his world. You’d muffled your sobs as you watched Ryland speak directly to you after dismissing Rocky. He was so confused at how he’d ended up on that ship. You wanted to scream through the screen, scream into the vastness of space to tell him what had happened- that he’d been ripped from you and from Earth against his will. But he wouldn’t hear you. 

The rest of the footage wasn’t any easier. 

Horror at the ship careening out of control and both Ryland and Rocky getting hurt. 

Relief at Rocky being ok and Ryland finding an astrophage predator. 

Brief hope when Ryland started his journey home that was quickly squashed when you realized that Stratt hadn’t said anything about Ryland coming back to Earth. Then the outbreak; the Taumoeba leak that your scientist was able to stop but the terrible realization that Rocky wouldn’t be able to do the same.

Ryland’s heartbreaking turmoil at deciding whether to continue home or turn back to save his friend.

You knew your husband. You knew what decision he would make before he made it himself.

No words could describe how proud you were when Ryland made his last video log- a final goodbye. Instructions on how the Taumoeba worked and how to breed enough of them to send to Venus. A farewell as he sent the probes back to Earth and turned the Hail Mary towards Erid.

Once he got there, you wouldn’t know what happened after that. If they were indeed able to make it back and save 40 Eridani too. And after that… was Ryland doomed to die in space like originally planned? Based on how intelligent Rocky was and how advanced some of his technology with xenonite seemed to be, surely they could figure out something on Erid to keep Ryland alive? They could build him a little home of sorts so he could live the rest of his days and not starve to death alone in space.

Rocky wouldn’t leave him to die like that, you knew it. He would keep Ryland safe, now that you couldn’t. 

Before Ryland signed off, he gave a gentle smile to the camera and told you goodbye. An official, final goodbye this time. Sad but resolute. He told you he loved you. You whispered it back.

a/n: thanks for the patience, yall! had a lil bit of a writer’s slump and lots of life stuff got in the way but we got ‘er done! thank you for reading! a little something for my male readers is next (god willing) ;)

As odd and terrifying as it initially was, Ryland was beyond grateful to have found Rocky. With the death of his two initial crew mates, he had not been looking forward to spending the rest of his days alone. Luckily, Rocky quickly filled that emptiness and they became quick companions amongst the chaos. As mildly annoying as it was to have Rocky move all of his things into the Hail Mary, take up much of the limited space and knock all of his precious, expensive science equipment over as he moved around in his xenonite ball, Ryland loved the guy.

As the Hail Mary cruised through the Tau Ceti system, they had a lot of time to talk. Both astronauts naturally had a lot of questions about the other so they used the time to describe their biologies, cultures and home worlds. 

At the current moment, the two were relaxed in the LED room part of the ship, Ryland leaning back against Rocky’s geometric ball as they looked out over the screens that were depicting a foggy, tranquil beach. Rocky had his texture monitor pointing towards the screens so he could see it too.

Ryland couldn’t see the alien, as he had his back to him, but he could hear the silent pause after he’d asked his question. The gentle scraping of rock had him wondering if Rocky was lightly running his front claws against each other like he usually did when he was feeling a negative emotion. 

The soft tune of his voice transferred over to the microphones in the crudely duct taped computer contraption he’d invented so they could communicate, translating the notes into a response Ryland could understand. His words were quieter, a little sad.

“My mate.”

Ryland shot to sit upright, turning to look at his companion. Indeed, Rocky was running his claws against each other, brushing a spot on one of his arms that had a little turquoise gem embedded into the stone.

“You have a mate?!”

This was a subject they had yet to breach in their many talks; the people they’d left behind. While he figured it would probably come up eventually, it was a painful topic. Their families, their friends. His students, his- 

Ryland never brought it up. It hurt too much to think about.

Rocky tilted his carapace to the side like Ryland’s shock at the question was surprising. “Yes.”

“Huh. That’s awesome. How long have you been together?”

“186.3 years.”

Woah. “Oh wow, that’s a long time.”

Rocky contemplated Rylands words for some time, continuing to lightly brush over that turquoise gem on his arm. He seemed to deflate. “Is not enough.”

Well darn, if that wasn’t enough to tug on Ryland’s heartstrings. Even through the slightly robotic tone of the translator, the genuine emotion Rocky expressed was clear. Rocky cared for his mate very much and had been away from them for some time. Longer than Ryland had been alive. He couldn’t fathom how he’d done it.

“Tell me about them, Rock.”

That had him trilling. Rocky told all sorts of stories about his mate, who had a beautiful and elaborate name Ryland couldn’t even begin to pronounce, but Rocky talked about his mate like they’d put the stars in the sky. Ryland listened intently, learning about their story and interesting tidbits about Eridian culture when it came to choosing someone to spend their long lives with. 

He wasn’t sure how long they talked, but by the end Ryland felt like he knew about Rocky’s mate more than Rocky himself. Then, Rocky did what Rocky does and began pressing Ryland with his own question.

“Grace have mate, question?” Rocky’s voice perked up in interest, as it always did when he asked about the scientific mystery to him that was Earth.

It was Ryland’s turn to be silent- hesitant to answer.

The gold band around his ring finger felt heavy. 

After several seconds, he nodded. “Yeah. I did- er, I do.”

Rocky’s carapace raised even more, an indication that he was very excited at what he’d just learned. “Grace has mate! Tell me, tell me, tell me!”

Ryland couldn’t help but laugh at his friend. “Well… we worked together. Before I became a teacher. When I was a scientist. That’s how we met.” He smiled at the memory. How he’d completely embarrassed himself when he’d met her. 

At the time, he hadn’t known what she did for work- didn’t know that she was a well known (to everyone except him, apparently) scientist in her field, a Doctor in the same regard as him in every way. His equal, if not even better.

But no, he didn’t know her and had been startled when he’d come into the lab he regularly worked at and found her conducting some experiment with his equipment (it wasn’t his, it was the labs, but it was his regular spot he had an unsaid claim over. Had she ruined the experiment he had been painfully conducting for months??). 

‘Excuse me, sorry, students aren’t allowed in this lab.’ He’d said. He wasn’t usually so forward and firm, but he was protective of his experiments- his attempts at finding proof water wasn’t always needed to sustain life and thus proving life on other planets could be possible. It was his life’s work, he didn’t want some grad student destroying it.

She had been surprised at his appearance, gently setting down the pipette she was holding to look at him through her safety glasses. She’d looked him up and down, no doubt taking in the street clothes he still wore (his cream cardigan with foxes on it) and quirked a brow.

The next several minutes of his life were some of his most humiliating. The embroidered name on her pristine white lab coat, a name with a very definitive Dr. listed before it, had him left standing with his foot in his mouth. He’d stammered over an apology, accidentally dropping his coffee all over the sterile white floor in the process.

Most other scientists he crossed paths with were very picky about how they were addressed, finding it very offensive when you left off the Doctor before their name, much less mistaking them for a student. Rightfully so, Ryland supposed. He knew firsthand how much time and effort it took to get to where he and the other professionals in his field were so it made sense that some wanted that respect. 

Ryland didn’t care too much about it, and thankfully the new face in his lab didn’t seem to care either.

She handled his bumbling apology with grace and assured him all was well, even helping him clean up his coffee spill. He’d learned she was a published scientist, specializing in microbial genetics and the evolution of microorganisms. They were scientists in the same vein. She knew him, he didn’t know her. 

While most people laughed and berated him for his theory that water wasn’t always needed for life, something that was proven time and time again in the scientific world, she was very interested in his work which was what brought her to him in the first place. 

Ryland was wrapped around her finger from that moment on. 

They rarely went a day without seeing each other after that, usually running experiments together but occasionally meeting up for lunch on the weekends to discuss the latest scientific findings in the world. Those conversations eventually turned into less science focused, more personal ones. Then they started meeting up outside of weekends.

Ryland was too hesitant to call them dates, out of fear of getting his hopes up. 

He didn’t dare put a label on what they had together. He didn’t want to ruin anything.

The fleeting touches between experiments, the shy smiles, his regular coffee order that she’d memorized. None of it felt casual, but what did he know?

When he published his theory and got shunned by the scientific community (they didn’t take his wording about the professionals in the community very kindly), losing his job and all of his funding, she was the only thing that kept him afloat. She didn’t turn her back, she saw the passion in his work. Whether she believed his theory or not, she supported him.

When she’d appeared on his doorstep one night as he tried to work out his finances- how to pay the next month's rent- takeout in hand, he knew right then that he loved her and would until the day he died.

It only solidified in his mind when she’d kissed him as they sat side by side on his couch. It was slow, gentle, full of understanding and warmth, an attempt at comfort when he was so low. It worked too- he didn’t feel nearly as down about his situation after that because now he had something else to work towards.

Things worked rather quickly from there. He moved into her apartment the next month and she helped him hunt for jobs. A friend of her friend got him an interview at Grover Cleveland Middle and thus began his teaching career. He found himself loving it much more than he’d expected, quickly finding his groove in the classroom and earning the ‘Favorite Teacher’ title from the students.

They teased him constantly about his girlfriend, always asking when she’d be coming to visit next. She’d bring him lunch sometimes, or just pop in to say hi, leaving him with a kiss on the cheek that had his students ooo-ing and aaa-ing, much to his chagrin.

A couple of years down the road, when they’d married and life seemed perfect, everything went to hell. 

The sun was dying and there was no solution in sight. 

She spent hours upon hours scouring the internet for more information, trying to understand why it was happening. She didn’t specialize in astronomy or heliology, didn’t understand it like she did genetics and DNA, but she tried anyway. 

It took him shutting her laptop himself, gently taking her hands and pulling her away from her desk to get her to stop, forcing her to come back to the bed and sleep.

Ryland wasn’t as passionate, figuring there were more qualified people in the world working on a solution, and that it would blow over.

It didn’t.

When he was approached by Eva Stratt and suddenly thrust into the Astrophage madness, he started to worry that maybe this was a bigger deal than he’d thought. Maybe he should’ve been studying like her.

She was excited for him to be a part of this, as scary as it was. To be the first person on earth to come in contact with whatever was killing the sun, with what they would learn is the first form of alien life. 

As much as he begged Stratt, his wife wasn’t allowed to come along with him. Something about it being top secret to the public for now. When he tried to reason with her that she wasn’t just some random person- that she was smart and an expert with microorganisms even more so then he was, that she could help- Stratt would hear none of it. They wanted him because he believed in life that could survive without water; an alien lifeform that lived on the sun sounded just like what he’d spent years trying to prove.

So as Ryland was whisked away to study the new life, she was stuck at home to wait. The couple years between initially being found by Stratt and the launch of the Hail Mary, Ryland only saw her in person a handful of times, otherwise too busy or too restricted by those in charge to take trips home. He could tell she was hurting, missing him immensely, the sad strain in her voice prominent even over the static of his phone, but she never complained, all too aware how important he seemingly was to the mission.

And then…

Rocky was listening intently, at one point folding his arms underneath him and resting on them like a cat to get more comfortable. When Ryland got to the point that was still too painful to even think about, Rocky finally chimed in.

“She sound good.”

Ryland laughed but it was painful. “Yeah. She is good. I miss her.”

Rocky tapped a claw on the ground. “You miss her but you see her soon.”

Right… he’d never told Rocky that this was a suicide mission. That Ryland wasn’t going back to Earth.

Rocky would see his people again- his mate again. His people had planned for his and his crew’s return back to Erid.

Ryland wasn’t so lucky.

This certainly didn’t feel like the time to bring that little fact up to Rocky. Not while they were talking about the people they loved so dearly. So Ryland just nodded.

“What Grace mate name, question?”

The scientist thought about her face, her smile, her everything. “(Y/n). There’s no real word for her name in your language, not like mine. It’s just a name.”

Rocky was able to ‘say’ Ryland’s last name, Grace, because grace was also a noun their languages shared. His companion shifted slightly as he thought before perking up. “I call Grace mate, ♪♪♪♪.”

The translator didn’t pick up the word he said, meaning it was a new word he’d never used before. “What does that mean?”

“Someone who cares about others. Special word on Erid.”

Ryland smiled. (Y/n) deserved a special name. “I like the sound of that.” He pulled out their communication laptop and had Rocky say her name again, logging the new sound. While (Y/n)’s name in Rocky’s language wasn’t as long and intricate as Rocky’s mate’s name was, it sure beat his own name in Eridian, which was a singular note (not fair). 

Setting the computer aside, Ryland dug into the pants pocket of his red jumpsuit, carefully slipping free the polaroid he’d found in his bag of belongings when he’d first woken up. 

(Y/n) was one of the first things he remembered amidst his amnesia scrambled brain. In fact, he’d remembered her before he’d remembered his own name. The ring on his finger helped, but he couldn’t forget her. Not in a million years, not if he’d been in a coma for another decade. 

The polaroid was grainy, not at all perfect, but it was the only thing he had in his belongings that had her face on it. 

They had been dating at the time, pretty new to the relationship to the point where Ryland still had butterflies any time she gave him any kind of affection. 

She’d taken a whole day off to be with him and help in his classroom on one of his students favorite and most rowdy days of the year- Halloween. 

Obviously, they had matching costumes and of course they had to be science related. His class had been in the space unit of the curriculum, so naturally she was an astronaut and he was an alien. A little ironic, considering where he was now.

The costume she wore was a generic astronaut costume from the local pop-up Halloween shop, a bright orange jumpsuit with a little patch over the chest that was supposed to say “Save Our Planet” circling around a little Earth but apparently had a manufacturing issue because it said “Save Our Plant” instead. She loved it so much, they didn’t bother taking it back to swap it out for a new one.

Ryland had a green morph suit underneath his regular teaching getup, only wearing the face covering for a couple minutes at the beginning of class to appease the masses before unzipping the head because it was way too stuffy and nearly impossible to teach in. His students complained about his costume, claiming it “wasn’t Halloweeny enough” now. (Y/n) was quick to find a solution with the help of some craft supplies, making up an antenna headband and gluing a googly eye to his forehead. This was enough for his students who giggled every time he moved now, the puffball antennae and googly eye swaying wildly with any movement.

Very little teaching was accomplished that day, 

By 3pm when all of his kids were headed home in their costumes, Ryland was sweating through his morph suit and (Y/n) was exhausted from wrangling pre-teens. Once everything was straightened up and bags were packed, (Y/n) whipped out her polaroid camera for a picture to remember the day. 

Ryland ran his thumb over the smooth plastic, taking in her bright smile as she leant back into his torso. Ryland’s cheeks were pink but he'd had enough of a mind to throw up a neon green clad peace sign before she snapped the picture in an attempt not to look completely infatuated by the woman who pressed herself against him. It took several months of dating before that initial “honeymoon phase” wore off and he stopped blushing furiously at just the sight of her. 

“That (Y/n), question? Rocky see, question?”

Rocky pointed his texture monitor at the polaroid to get a better view and started bouncing. “Pretty pretty pretty! Prettier human than Grace!”

“Can’t argue with that,” Ryland smiled. “She would’ve loved to meet you, Rock. She loves evolution and would be chomping at the bit to find all of the similarities Earth and Erid life have with each other, if our hypothesis of stemming from the same common ancestor has any merit. She would’ve loved to see Eridian families too, the whole egg process you told me about. Genes and stuff are her thing. She’d ask you all about how traits are passed from generation to generation.”

Rocky’s claws clacked together. “No understand half of what you said.”

Ryland sighed and moved to lay on his back, holding the polaroid above his head. “That’s ok. Basically, I just think you guys would get along really well.”

A trill emanated from Rocky. “Yes yes yes! She friend! I send her message!”

Propping himself up on his arms, Ryland looked quizzically at the rock. “You want to record something for (Y/n)?”

All he got in return was an excited dance. 

-

Ryland had yet to record any video log to send home specifically for (Y/n). He had plans to… eventually. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he was terrified that recording something for her would feel like the final nail in the coffin- it would finally settle in that those would be his last words to her and he would never get an answer back.

Was she angry at him for leaving? Proud? Was she even still alive? For all he knew, humanity had already been wiped out and he was the only person left. He had no way of knowing. No way to know if it was already too late or if any information he sent on the beetles would make it to Earth.

Has she moved on? Found someone else to spend the end of the world with?

These sorts of thoughts plagued him at night when his mind wasn’t focused on the mission. It made him sick to think about but he couldn’t say he really blamed her.

He had yet to remember how they’d parted ways. If he got to hold her in a crushing hug and tell her he loved her, that he was sorry that they didn’t have more time. That he’s sorry he was picked for this important mission. Were their final words exchanged over the phone? A faceless, painful goodbye? Did they even get to say goodbye at all?

He wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer. His brain couldn’t remember but every time he thought about it, his heart squeezed in his chest, like it was a horrible memory that wanted to stay hidden. Maybe that was enough of an answer for him.

Rocky was swaying his ball back and forth, waiting impatiently for Ryland to start recording. If Rocky noticed his hesitation, he didn’t acknowledge it, which meant he probably didn’t notice because he absolutely was the kind of guy to point it out.

Making sure the two of them were within view on the screen, Ryland sucked in a quiet breath. The hand holding the camera was shaking as he pressed the button.

“Uh-“ How do you even start a video that could be the final words the person you love more than anything hears from you? “Hey, how’s it going?” Not like that.

“This video is for (Y/n) Grace… if whoever gets this could get this to her that would be super cool? If you’re not her then stop watching I guess.” 

He’d never wanted to be sucked into space more than at that moment. How embarrassing. Rocky nudged his ball against Ryland’s leg.

“Ah- anyways (Y/n), I have someone who wants to say hi.”

He angled the camera so Rocky took up all of the screen this time. The alien stood proud and opened a claw in greeting. “Hello, Grace mate!”

Ryland chuckled. “This is Rocky, the weird alien I happened across while on my galaxial excursion. Messy guy, takes up a lot of my precious space with his hamster tunnels.”

“Me messy, question? You are messy!” Rocky stomped his claw and rolled closer to the camera. “Grace have garbage everywhere when I move in. You have messy mate. Was Grace like this on earth, question?”

Shoving his ball back a bit (as much as the scientist could manage anyway, Rocky did weigh like 300 pounds), Ryland shook his head furiously at the camera like (Y/n) was on a video call. “Not true, I’m a clean guy. The journey through space has been bumpy, it’s impossible to keep anything in its place these days. Space turbulence.” Ryland couldn’t have (Y/n) thinking he’d turned into some kind of slob (even if it was sort of true). He couldn’t believe Rocky was trying to rile up his own wife against him. Worst of all, he knew she would take Rocky’s side, if just to tease him.

The two bickered for several minutes, Rocky commenting on every little thing he could think of to tattle about, then switching to talking about himself and his mate, remembering what Ryland had told him about (Y/n)’s expertise, and going into detail about Erid reproduction just as Ryland said she’d want to learn about. 

“Lay egg next to each other, they combine and then baby Eridian! You and Grace have egg soon, question?”

Ryland sprung to his feet and pulled the camera to his chest like it could muffle the alien’s voice. “Alright! I think it’s time you go fix something while I talk to (Y/n) by myself. Mate talk.”

“Mate talk?”

“Yeah, important stuff. It’s a human thing. Try not to eavesdrop, it’s rude.”

Rocky made a noise that sounded like a humph. “It’s rude. Fine. I talk later.”

Pulling the camera from his chest, Ryland allowed Rocky to say goodbye. He didn’t know if he’d get another chance to ‘talk’ to her. “Later friend (Y/n)! Grace is good friend to Rocky. You have very brave mate. He very excited to see you again.”

And with that, he rolled off to do whatever he deemed worthy of his time. Ryland had trouble swallowing the lump in his throat, glancing down at the camera before walking towards the opposite of the ship. It was probably no use, Rocky could hear everything in the ship no matter how far apart they were but hopefully he’d keep to himself and not listen to the very private conversation he was about to have. 

Finding a tiny alcove amongst boxes of storage, Ryland settled down in the dim light and sniffed. Moving to nestle his glasses in his hair, he rubbed a hand down his face with a sigh. “He’s something, isn’t he?” He talked softly, like he was indeed having a private conversation. “Pain in my ass sometimes but… I’m glad he’s here.”

Ryland stared blankly at the box of equipment that sat opposite of him, brushing the flat of his shoes over the surface as a distraction. His heart began to race as he scrambled to put together the words he so desperately wanted to tell her since he woke up.

“Uh… I’m sorry I haven't made you any video logs yet, we’ve been a little busy. That and… I was in a coma for 4 years, give or take, so recording time has been sparse.” He forced a smile and chuckle, trying to throw humor into his words when there was none. A coping mechanism he’d had as long as he could remember.

“That and… I didn't think I had the courage to do it at the time. Still don't actually.”

The thrum of the ship underneath him started to feel too loud in the silence between his words.

“The coma really did a number on my brain. I don’t know how much the Hail Mary team on Earth has told you, if anything. At least, I sure hope they gave you an explanation on why I’m here and not back home. I don’t remember anything from the days leading up to the launch. To be honest, I'm not even sure how I ended up on this mission. Everything that I've remembered this far has pointed to me not being a part of the crew. It's weird and I don't understand it but I'm sure it’ll make sense eventually. Something must’ve happened and I volunteered to go. Rocky says I’m brave for being here. I should be honored for being picked to come here, to be a hero. But…”

He choked. Choked on his words and the burning in his eyes told him enough of how he truly felt.

“I miss you,” he stuttered. “So much.” A sob escaped him. “So much it hurts. I wish I was home with you, in bed, worrying about the next parent-teacher conference. Worrying about my students passing their final tests. Worried about the old lunchlady, Ms. Ruth, in the cafeteria who’d flirt with me any time I had to eat school lunch.” He laughed at the memory, a small genuine laugh this time amidst the tears that were now streaming down his face. How simple his life had been, the worries that seemed so trivial now.

“I miss our late night talks about your work. What you experimented on that day. I miss your smile. I miss when you’d steal my glasses so you could read your book, claiming they helped you see better. I still think that’s baloney by the way, I think you just liked wearing them.” 

Moment after moment flitted through his mind, things he could remember about their shared lives. He wanted to list all of them, to let her know how much he thought about her, but it would take 13 years more to say it all. There was just one thought- one thought that truly plagued him, that squeezed his heart so tightly he could barely breathe. One he was terrified to learn the answer to.

“Did we even get to say goodbye?” He couldn’t manage to say it louder than a minuscule whisper. He wasn’t even sure the recorder would pick up the sound. 

“Are you even still alive out there? Am I already too late? Has the Earth turned into an icy tundra and there’s no one left to save?” He wiped at his eyes, hands furiously shaking now. “It kills me that I'll never know. That I'll never get to say goodbye.”

Rocky hadn’t learned the word goodbye- they hadn’t exchanged the word yet so he wouldn’t understand it if he was indeed listening through the walls.

“I'm sorry for leaving you behind. I hope you’re safe, wherever you are and you know that any decision I made, I made for you. To keep the Earth safe and give you and humanity a slim chance for survival.”

At least, he hoped that’s why he was stuck on this ship until he died. That he’d chosen this. He had a sneaking suspicion he wasn’t remembering quite right but if (Y/n) was alive, he wanted to give her some comfort. Let her believe he’d gone into this with the courage to be a hero. 

“Anyways…”

Wiping his cheeks of tears, he tried to compose himself. He didn’t want her last real memory of him to be such a downer.

“Well, we’ve got a lot of brainstorming to do before we reach the planet the Astrophage are flocking to like they are to Venus. Hopefully we find something that solves this mystery so I can actually send this video to you… Fingers crossed.”

He crosses his fingers for the camera and moves his glasses back to his nose. “ I love you. No matter how far apart we are, that’ll never change.” A small, genuine smile creeped over him. “Bye…”

After stopping the recording, Ryland gently set the camera down in his lap and rested his head back against the boxes. If Rocky and himself didn’t find a solution to send home, there was no rhyme or reason to send the beetles back with their video logs. What was Earth going to do with the information besides confirming aliens are indeed real? It wouldn’t matter in the long run, it wouldn’t save their sun.

He supposed, if it meant giving her a message one last time, that could be worth it. 

As hard as it was to find the words, Ryland felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. Coming to terms with his new reality, exposing the feelings he’d kept bottled up since he woke up. As time went on, he hoped more memories would return, that his hunch was wrong. But he’d cross that bridge when it came. For now? Find a solution to give her a fighting chance.

But you knew why. Your fingers gripped the piece of paper a fraction harder. An impersonal piece of white printer paper. The words typed. Stratt didn’t even take the time to hand write it. This devastating piece of information with direct orders for you not to tell Grace. It made your heart twist and your stomach hurt. 

Grace didn’t choose to go on this mission like you or Ilyukhina did. He was forced. Kidnapped. Drugged in order to forget what Stratt did to him.

He must never find out. By the time he remembers, hopefully, he will have figured out how to save the world.

With one last read through of Grace’s damnation, you folded the piece of paper and slipped it back into your bag. How could Stratt live with herself?

How were you going to live with yourself?

“So, do you remember how I liked my hair? ‘Cause clearly it’s not this.” Grace stepped into the bathroom doorway, holding up the ends of his long locks like they personally offended him.

He made you smile. He was always able to.

“No, it’s definitely not that,” you chuckled, getting up from your cot and beginning a search for the scissors and clippers you knew were on board. “You kept it kinda…Shaggy?”

“Shaggy,” he repeated as he turned back to the mirror. 

You made a noise of success as you finally found the scissors and clippers, neatly tucked away with some other bathroom essentials in a drawer at your feet. You presented them to Grace with a grin.

“Do you want the robot to do it or…?”

“I’m sure it’s…Very skilled. But — I wouldn’t know what to tell it to do.”

“Fair enough.”

“Can — uh — can you do it?” he asked quietly, hiding behind his hair. 

“Oh.” You glanced down at the tools in your hand then shook your head. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. Let me just get a stool from the lab.”

Setting the clippers and scissors down on the sink, you walked further into the ship. You didn’t like the parts of the ship where Grace wasn’t. It felt eerie, cold, lonely. It sent a shiver down your spine to think that you and Grace were the only human’s for lightyears. For the rest of your life. You wished Ilyukhina was still alive. 

Stool in hand, you walked back into the small bathroom and set it down in front of the mirror and sink. Grace sat down on it slowly with a tight lipped smile. Without thinking about it too much, you gathered his long hair into your hands and tied it into a low ponytail with your spare elastic.

“Honestly, your hair always looked like you cut it yourself,” you said as you picked up the scissors and began cutting above the elastic. “Short on the sides, longer on top. Shaggy.”

“Frugal then.” 

You snickered, throwing the cut ponytail in the bin. “Or broke.”

“Which one is it?” Behind all the hair, you could tell he was smiling.

“I’ll let you figure that one out on your own.” You set aside the scissors and picked up the clippers. 

The rest of the haircut went by in silence. You did your best, trying to make his hair look how you remembered it was. The top was maybe a little uneven in places, and it was going to bother you everytime you saw it. You never knew how soft his hair was. It was silky and soft between your fingers as you held up strands and snipped away like you saw hairdressers do. Like you always imagined it would be. You swallowed thick as you finally looked into the mirror from his head. 

Grace was already watching you. Glasses set aside. A furrow between his brows. He looked even more ridiculous with that beard now.

“You were my best astronaut student,” he murmured and you smiled. 

“I liked to think so.”

“I was good at teaching.” His gaze was lost in the middle distance for a moment, then he looked up at you brightly. “I was a teacher.”

Your grin only grew. “Yes! You were. Middle school science.”

“Oh, geez…Middle schoolers,” he chuckled.

“Yeah. You were very brave.” You moved around to the front of the stool, jammed between the stool and the sink, shins pressed against his knees. “Now for that facial hair. You had some. Scruff.”

“Lots of S words. Shaggy. Scruff.”

“That’s just how you look man, I don’t know what to tell you.”

Grace huffed. “Fair enough.”

Bent down awkwardly, you started shaving down his beard. With a hand on the side of his head, you tilted it just so so you could see in the sterile light. You tried not to look into his eyes, blue as the ocean, but it was increasingly difficult the longer the shave took. Like a moth drawn to the flame, he was going to kill you with that look in his eye. 

Your back began to ache, so you stood up straight to give it a stretch. When you did, Grace parted his legs, and with how squished you were between the sink and him you fell forward into the new space created with a small gasp. Grace stopped you from completely stumbling into him with his large hands bracketing your hips. Heat filled your cheeks as you glanced down at him.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“S-Sorry,” he said directly after, releasing you like you burned him. “I…Don’t know why I did that.”

You did. And it made something inside you ache. 

After his beard was completely trimmed down to the scruff he usually sported, you stepped out of the bathroom to put the scissors and clippers away. Grace stepped out a moment later. 

“Do I look like me?” he asked.