CinnaBunWrites

The trip back to Earth was turning out to be extremely boring, and he'd barely even reached the third month of his travel.

Grace never fully realized how isolated he was until now. Since Rocky was no longer around the ship had become eerily silent, filled only with the hum of the engines and faint buzz of the life systems. A few months in and he was already missing the alien space rock more than he could've imagined.

Being alone wasn't a new feeling.

He'd felt it ever since he got shunned at that UNESCO conference in Denmark, though admittedly, that was partially his fault—he shouldn't have lashed out and called that leading scholar a "staggering waste of carbon". However, he was adamant that they should've at least took his theory into consideration instead of laughing in his face. Wasn't that what science was for? To expand their knowledge based on new discoveries, and test the limits of what they already know?

Yeah, he was still resentful about it, even when he was light-years away from Earth.

Then there was his failed relationship, where his ex-girlfriend claimed his head was too high in the clouds to commit to the real world. Maybe she was right, which was why that one stung the most. It was devastating to have someone he thought he could depend on, the only person to stick beside him for years and support him through thick and thin, abandon him like it was nothing.

Not only that, but she did it to be with some guy named Mark. He'd had his suspicions that she was cheating, and yet he'd turned a blind eye to the warning signs as if that'd somehow save him from the inevitable heartache.

It didn't, obviously. Only left him to face the shattering reality of the situation—he wasn't enough for her or anyone.

He was used to being alone for quite some time now.

When Grace first woke up, disoriented with no memories of how he got there, he wasn't all that surprised to see his two other crew mates were deceased. He barely had a reaction, like his subconscious had braced itself for the possibility and was already accustomed to the idea of complete isolation. It was second nature for him to ignore the disappointment that came with it, to replace it with the noise of his own thoughts.

It was pathetic, he knew that. Even in the vastness of space, on a mission he wasn't the slightest bit trained for, fate decided he was better off alone. That had to be some kind of sign, one he wasn't particularly fond of.

Was it always meant to be like this? Why was it that people like himself, the ones who craved human connection more than anything, who wanted nothing more than to belong somewhere... would always be left standing alone, even at the edge of the universe?

It hurt, a lot. Far more than he would like to admit.

Drinking all those bags of vodka to ease the pain worked for a fleeting moment, until it turned into a never-ending cycle of grief. One moment he was numb to the universe around him, the next he was balling his eyes out, begging to the emptiness of space to send him back, to bring back his crew mates—anything except this cruel fate he had been dealt.

He didn't want to die.

He didn't want to die alone.

Grace didn't know how long he'd spent moping around, pitying himself and his circumstances, until reality fully sank in. He was stranded in deep space, not a living thing in sight except for him.

Even if he was technically alone on Earth, there was always people around him to fill the void—the other teachers of Grover Cleveland Middle, his star students, the friendly neighbors in his apartment complex, even the brilliant people that were apart of this top-secret project. He didn't care who it was, he just needed someone around to quiet the doubtful voices ringing inside his head.

At least he had Mary and Armando for company... Okay, that sounded a lot sadder than he thought it would. Definitely not the same as a person.

Regardless, he learned to cope with being alone for a very long time. No family, no lover, no pets, just himself. That was one of the sole reasons he was sent on this mission, as if his own life wasn't important enough to care about. Guess it was easier to indirectly kill someone when there was no one to mourn their absence.

When Rocky came along, it'd changed his perspective entirely. For once in his life he finally met someone who understood him, someone who didn't judge him for his awkward behavior or constant rambling. If anything, the Eridian complimented it well, the two working together like pieces of a puzzle. What one of them lacked, the other made up for to balance it out.

Not to mention Rocky was blunt. His species saw no reason to beat around the bush, they simply said whatever was on their mind. It was refreshing and helped calm that lingering uncertainty in the back of his mind, how he always felt the need to backtrack and choose his words more carefully. He was actually a little envious of Rocky's candid attitude—a nervous wreck like himself could use a bit of that confidence.

Now that Rocky was gone, a hole had carved itself into Grace's chest. For once in his life he bonded with someone in a way he hadn't before – an alien, no less – and now he lost it. His regret was immense, constantly battling with himself over whether or not he should've stayed with him and sent the pods back to Earth instead.

It was a thought he had everyday as he wandered around the ship, occasionally checking on the Taumoeba farm and the greenhouse to keep his brain occupied. He spent a lot of time in the Don't Go Crazy Room and listening to music—dancing and karaoke just didn't feel the same without his companion beside him.

He'd always been alone, but he'd never experienced such a profound sense of loneliness until Rocky came along. The fuzzy warmth in his chest had dimmed, leaving behind this hollow ache, a yearning for connection that was no longer there. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't seriously contemplated turning the ship around. But then the dread of missing his life back on Earth would set in again, sending him into a state of hysteria as the cycle repeated.

Grace was miserable, there was no denying it. It was an endless battle between missing an alien who showed him more empathy than those on Earth, and craving the familiarity of the humans he once surrounded himself with—their presence, their emotional comprehension, their behaviors, their touch, their warmth, their affection, the list went on until his stomach was twisting itself into knots.

He missed it.

God, he missed people so much.

He tried to reassure himself that he was heading back to Earth, that his issue would be resolved eventually, he simply had to wait it out for a couple of years. But even that didn't help, a pit of apprehension forming in his gut that suggested otherwise. He wasn't the type to believe in intuition, preferring physical evidence rather than letting irrational fear overtake him. This however, he couldn't shake off for the life of him.

He decided that it was the isolation affecting his brain—sleep deprivation was also a major issue that could've been contributing to it. He had all the time in the world to rest, yet his body wouldn't allow it. When he did get some sleep it was only for a couple of hours, the anxious pounding of his heart jolting his mind awake.

Tonight was no different.

It was the middle of the night according to the watch he wore and the ship's dimmed light systems, both used for the sole purpose of keeping him sane in constant darkness. He'd decided to move his pillow and blanket into the simulation room, hoping the changing scenery around him could ease him into a peaceful slumber. Right now it was set to his personal favorite, a tall forest with a calming stream and red foxes skittering around.

Grace was sprawled across the platform in the center, a colorful, quilted blanket covering his form. One of his arms and legs dangled off the sides, trying and failing to find a comfortable position for ages now.

Maybe sleeping on top of a metal surface wasn't his greatest idea in terms of relaxation. His back was starting to ache.

The sounds of nature should've been soothing, but it only filled him with that recurring longing. He missed animals, too. Now he regretted never getting one, too busy with his job as a teacher and worrying over the costs that came with getting a pet.

If he had, he liked to think he would've gotten a cat. Maybe a black cat? Or a calico, those were cute. What would he have named them? Something space-related seemed appropriate, especially with his current circumstances. But what?

For the umpteenth time he got lost in his own thoughts, the idea of sleep abandoned. Instead he let his mind wander from topic to topic, each one as insignificant as the last, merely there to will away the repressed emotions eating away at him. Anything to distract him from his solitary existence.

He laid there, eyes closed and brows furrowed as the dimmed lights of the screens casted him in a gentle glow, sounds of rustling leaves and rushing water filling his ears. His hand laid across his torso underneath the blanket, fiddling with the edge of his shirt as it rode up his stomach.

The pads of his fingers soothed up and down the pale, toned skin of his abdomen mindlessly, brushing over a trail of blonde hairs scattered along there. A low, shuddered breath left him, almost able to imagine his touch as someone else. Who it was, he had no clue nor care, as long as he could fabricate the presence of another person.

Slowly his hand trailed higher, tracing the muscles of his abdomen until he reached his pectorals, the graphic t-shirt he wore scrunching up with the movement. His heartbeat could be felt underneath his palm, a steadily rising rhythm as his free hand rose to drag through his short, dirty blonde locks.

His own sigh reached his ears, short, shuddered breaths leaving his parted lips. His hand slid back down, skimming past his happy trail to the waist band of his pants, the material already loosened around his hips. The fingers in his hair clenched, forming a fist as he tugged at the strands, coaxing a groan from his throat.

He lightly traced over the v-line to the right side of his hips, his thumb tugging the waist band lower to reveal the fabric underneath. His hair was released, rubbing that hand down his burning face to cover his mouth, his eyebrows pinching together as he trailed lower—

"Foreign bodies, detected."

Shoot.

Grace nearly jumped out of his own skin, barely managing to stay on the platform from the harsh jolt his body gave. He fumbled to get up as the blanket tangled around his form, causing him to trip over the fabric when he stood up. His knee slammed against a screen in the process and he had to censor a curse that tried to escape.

His glasses were around here somewhere. Where did he place them again? Right, next to the control panel.

"Foreign bodies, detected."

"I got that, Mary! I'm coming, just– Hold on!" He shouted at the automated voice, hurrying to grab his glasses and shove them on his face.

His converse shoes reverberated against the metal grated floor, rushing down the length of the ship to find whatever was being detected. So far Grace didn't see anything out of the ordinary. He peeked in the lab first and checked on the Taumoeba farm, since he figured that was the only other life on this ship, but no luck there.

Then he wandered to the greenhouse, the control room, the storage area, the fuel and engine compartment—still nothing. By the time he trailed back around and had listened to Mary's alerts more than twenty times, he was getting exhausted.

"Can't you just tell me where you're detecting it from?" Grace asked the computerized voice with a sigh, not wanting to run around the entirety of the ship a second time. He'd slammed into Rocky's xenonite tunnels too many times.

There was silence for a split second, then the computer spoke again. "Foreign bodies located in the dormitory section of the ship."

Grace threw up his hands with a groan. Of course it's in the last place he'd thought to check. "That would've been nice to know at the beginning, Mary!"

"My apologies, Dr. Grace."

He shook his head, maneuvering around the obstacles scattered across the ship as he headed towards that area. The closer he got, his pace began to slow, a concerning realization sinking in—he had no clue what it could possibly be.

There wasn't a contaminant in the air, seeing as Mary would've alerted him to that kind of threat. It was physically impossible for anything to get inside the ship without him using the airlock, so that was ruled out. He couldn't recall having anything inside that would be identified as a foreign object, unless it was one of Rocky's creations being falsely detected. That wouldn't make sense though, due to the sheer amount of xenonite around the ship.

His mind was running a blank as to what it could be. Those were the only possibilities he could come up with, seeing as there wasn't much else that could happen in the emptiness of space.

Unless it was an alien that could somehow phase through matter to get inside, in which case, he fears it won't be as pleasant of an interaction as he had with Rocky. Something might actually end up growing inside him this time around.

God, he really hoped not. That train of thought was not helping him remain calm in the slightest.

With wary steps, Grace wandered down the rest of the passageway. From what he could see of the dormitory so far, there wasn't anything that jumped out at him as being abnormal.

That was until a hint of crimson on the floor caught his eye.

His brows furrowed together, eyeing the substance splattered across the ground as he inched closer to the entrance. Not long after the smell hit him, his nose scrunching up at the pungent scent of iron mixed with burnt flesh. It was nauseating, to where he had to smack his hand over the lower half of his face to shield himself from it—and to prevent his churning stomach from emptying his ramen from earlier onto the floor.

Now he knew for a fact something wasn't right, and the unknown of what that could be set him on edge.

'Please don't be like that alien from that one movie. What was it called..? I can't remember. I'd just rather it be anything other than a parasitic alien that'd eventually burst out of my chest. No thank you.'

The pounding of his heartbeat drummed in his ears, nearly as loud as his spiraling thoughts. His footsteps slowed as he cautiously passed through the entrance of the dormitory, his eyes locked onto the dark, clumpy red substance on the ground that lead into a sizable puddle.

Then his gaze trailed up, noticing the two giant chunks that laid admist the mysterious liquid. His brain connected the dots slowly, taking a minute to confirm the scene before his eyes and the putrid smell that attacked his nose seconds earlier.

Oh fudge.

Those lumps were bodies, said bodies were absolutely drowned in a thick layer of blood. One of them appeared to be missing an arm as well, stringy bits of flesh and muscle falling apart from the severed end. If he squinted, he could see a hint of bone amongst the sea of crimson.

He couldn't help the visceral reaction that came next.

A scream left his throat before he even realized he was making any sound. It was a high pitched, girly shriek, similar to when he first experienced zero gravity in the cockpit—a pitch he didn't even know he could reach before, let alone a second time.

"No! Absolutely not!" He shrieked, already running through the passageway and refusing to look back. "That's all blood! There's so much, how is that even possible?! And the missing arm— I'm gonna throw up, oh my god, oh my god—"

Grace put as much distance as he possibly could between himself and what looked like a crime scene. He wasn't sure whether the blood was their own or someone else's, though neither of those answers would've sat right with him. Especially with the sheer amount of it, because he was not exaggerating when he said they were covered from head to toe in red, to the point any physical features were unidentifiable.

Panic and horror was all he felt as he paced around the ship, trying to slow his breathing back to a normal rhythm. His mind was racing, unable to comprehend what he just witnessed, let alone how they ended up there in the first place.

Somehow meeting an alien space rock that resembled a giant spider was no longer the most bizarre thing he'd encountered on this mission. Not to mention that, unlike his current situation, he met Rocky under normal circumstances. There was nothing logical about two bodies randomly appearing inside his ship without any signs of entry.

How was that possible? It wasn't, obviously, which was freaking him out more. Then there was the copious amount of blood and the smell and—

Okay, he needed to calm down, otherwise it'd turn into an endless cycle of him overwhelming his brain with questions he didn't have the answer to. He should make a list of the obvious facts, rather than lose his mind over the nonsensical detail that was their very existence.

There were two people – presumably, their outlines looked human shaped to him – aboard the Hail Mary, laying unconscious on the dormitory floor, covered in blood. One was missing an arm, and they more than likely had other injuries on top of that.

Okay. Good, that was established now. Anddd... What was he supposed to do with that information?

Screaming again seemed like a reasonable option, or some more stressed pacing around the ship.

He needed an adult to handle this...

Oh, wait.

He was an adult.

Maybe Mary and Armando could deal with it? Cause now he was this close to actually throwing up.

Half-an-hour passed of him freaking out before any sensible part of his brain kicked in. He had no clue how they literally appeared out of thin air, but medical aid was urgently required, and leaving them in a pile of blood on the floor until they woke up wasn't an option, or else they could succumb to their injuries.

That said, he wasn't looking forward to cleaning up that mess and the smell that attacked his nose with it. But he didn't really have much of a choice if he wanted to save those people.

The amount of cloths he went through to wipe them off and the floor was innumerable, creating a pile in the corner until he could airlock them into space. No way the blood was coming out of those with the limited supplies he had, nor would it for the white, padded floor, so he'd have to deal with a permanent blood stain there from now on.

At least by then he was able to wipe them down enough to confirm it was two humans, a man and a woman, which was a relief. That meant no more worries about an alien trying to use his body as its next host.

They were still smeared in a thin layer of drying blood, but it was the best he could do. After that he got them situated for Armando, first covering two of the beds in a layer of plastic film to avoid new stains, before he lifted each of them onto their respective bed.

Grace helped undress them and cut certain areas of the clothing so the cluster of robot arms could tend to their wounds—aka him squeezing his eyes shut and occasionally peeking as he clumsily removed the drenched articles. From there he let Armando take care of the rest, standing nearby and covering his eyes until the robot finished caring for them, the sound of Mary's voice alerting him of the medical analysis throughout the procedure.

Head trauma, radiation burns, amputation, lacerations, abrasions, contusions, bone fractures—overall, didn't sound that great and he was becoming increasingly more concerned.

After their wounds were cared for, Grace quickly trailed back over to redress them, covering up their bodies out of modesty. It wasn't until he was finished and took a long look at their blood soaked clothes did he remember that Armando had gowns for patients—a far more sanitary option, even if their skin was still coated with the crimson substance aside from the treated areas.

The blonde glanced over at the cluster of robot arms, the camera practically staring him down before shifting to their bodies, then back to him, as if to make that point known.

Rocky was right. He really was stupid when he was tired. Sprinkle an extreme amount of stress and terror on top of that, his head might as well be for decoration at that point.

"Sorry about that, Armando. I'll just... leave you to it." He sheepishly excused himself, the cluster of robot arms shifting around in response. If a machine could get aggravated, he assumed that's what it looked like.

Grace quickly made his exit, leaving Armando to apply their oxygen masks and IVs for medication. The robot would be there to monitor their status, and Mary could alert him of any changes in their conditions, so he was left to his own devices for the time being. He needed a moment alone to process everything, and he figured they'd be out for some time given the severity of their injuries.

First he had to take a shower, because to no surprise, he'd gotten blood all over him. There goes a set of his already limited clothes. With what little he had, outfits were a pain to cycle through, seeing as there was only one method that worked for cleaning them—soak them in water then let them freeze to kill off the bacteria. Time-consuming, but it worked, so he wouldn't complain.

After he changed into some fresh clothes, he went to sit in the simulation room for a bit. Except this time he didn't mess around with the control panel to find a specific scenery, too preoccupied in his own thoughts as he plopped down on the platform, leaving him sitting amongst a sea of dark, blank screens.

His hands fidgeted with the edge of the blanket beneath him, mindlessly picking at the quilted fabric while his brain attempted to process everything that happened. There were so many questions running through his mind, ones that he had no logical answer to.

Where did they come from? Mary never detected a blip on the radar, so they couldn't have been from another ship.

How did they manage to get inside the ship? They simply just appeared in the dormitory, no indications whatsoever of the airlock being used for entry. Not like that'd make sense, seeing as neither of them were wearing a space suit.

Why were they drenched in blood? That... that he had no clue about. He couldn't even try to come up with an explanation for that one, nor did he want to try to.

There were no straightforward answers and it was starting to frustrate him. He quickly deduced that his irritably was due to lack of sleep, but there was no possible way he was getting any shut-eye after that incident. So he'd just have to sit there and stew in this concoction of emotions—bewilderment, unease, vexation and... relief.

Humans. There were two humans aboard his ship, living and breathing. He tried not to dwell on the possibility of that changing given their physical states. For now they were alive, and an inner part of himself felt like it could cry.

How long had it been since he'd last seen a human? In the flesh, rather than displayed on the very screens surrounding him. He couldn't remember, with the years of being in an induced coma and his long, grueling journey to Adrian...

It'd been so long. Too long.

Tears gathered in his eyes, glossing over the blue irises and blurring his vision. His glasses were quickly discarded, a hand rubbing over his face to rid of the leakage, to no avail as new ones rolled down his face to create rivulets along his cheeks. He choked on a sob, and suddenly his entire body was collapsing with the weight of emotion.

The last time he saw people he was being tackled to the ground, surrounded by guards and a doctor that were willing to send him on a suicide mission he didn't consent to. That was the last touch he felt—multiple hands grabbing and pulling, forcing him against the ground, keeping him caged in while he screamed and pleaded for them not to do it.

He remembered the way his voice turned hoarse, his vocal chords raw from how loudly he yelled, desperate for anyone to listen to him. He remembered how his hands clawed at the ground, clenching at grass blades and handfuls of dirt, holding on for dear life to keep himself attached to the Earth they were trying to expel him from.

There was no soil under his nails when he woke up. No grass stains or dirty scrapes against his palms. Absolutely nothing to keep him connected to his home that was light-years away, the evidence wiped clean as if it had never occurred.

He remembered Carl, too. Someone who he thought was a friend, watching the entire scene unfold without an ounce of remorse. He didn't hear his last words when his world faded into darkness, but he didn't need to. All he needed to know was that he made no move to help him. He didn't bat an eye at his display of utter terror, at the ugly mess of tears steaming down his face, at his thrashing and screams for mercy.

Carl didn't care. None of them did. Because in the end, what was one more life to them compared to the entirety of humanity? They didn't care, so long as they got to live a long, fruitful life in his place.

Grace found it interesting, how his last memory of human interaction was so deceitful and violent, yet his mind desperately craved any semblance of those connections that lingered before. He supposed it was human nature, regardless of his indignation towards those who sent him here.

He just wanted someone to be there beside him, to feel the warmth of another and reassure him that he wasn't alone in this cold, empty void. Anyone, to make him feel like he was worth more than a measly sacrifice to those who deserved to live more than he did.

And fate, as much as it had damned him up until this point, decided to show him a little bit of grace.

The time spent leading up to their awakening was stressful. Hours turned into days, until days turned into a week, and the clock was still ticking.

Grace wasn't at all surprised when his sleep schedule only deteriorated further after their arrival, seeing as it consumed his thoughts twenty-four-seven. Oftentimes he'd wander around the ship due to his own restlessness, which inevitably ended up with him at the dormitory, his subconscious steering him in that direction everytime.

He'd use it as an excuse to check up on them, listening to their medical reports while Armando scans them over. Everything seemed to be running smoothly, yet he was still bursting at the seams with apprehension.

What if they didn't wake up? What if their health started suddenly declining over night from their injuries? What if they did wake up, but they had been infected with an unknown disease, to where they couldn't recover?

It was thoughts like those that kept him up, that left him circling the ship just so he could peek inside the room to check on them. There was nothing else he could do besides wait and it was killing him.

It was around the tenth day when he woke up to the sound of commotion. Or rather he was dozing in and out of sleep before his foggy brain identified a loud noise, disrupting any chance he had at getting some rest as it startled him awake. After a few minutes of laying there, he figured he might as well check it out, seeing as he wasn't falling asleep anytime soon.

Grace wasn't all there while he was descending the ladder, his brain zoning in and out in his sleep-deprived state. That's why it took so long for him to realize where exactly he was, along with the fact there was a woman curled up on the floor, staring back at him like a deer caught in headlights.

Oh. One of them was awake. That's what the noise was, obviously. What else would it have been?

He couldn't hide how ecstatic he was, his heart leaping at the opportunity to communicate with another human. The rambling that spewed out of him was inevitable at that point, but the woman – Astra, meaning star, a pretty and fitting name – didn't appear to mind. She was noticeably shaken, yet she easily accepted his offer of wanting to help her.

Her reaction to the other person – friend or partner, he didn't know – wasn't as calm as he had hoped. Which was his fault, because he should've brought up that detail with more caution to avoid further distress.

'They were literally covered head-to-toe in blood with traumatic injuries. The man lost an entire arm! Of course she was going to freak out about that, idiot.' He mentally scolded himself.

After some reassurance that the man – Simon, from what she called him – would be alright, he got her settled enough to take a shower. In that time he learned she was a doctor, given she requested a medical kit to stitch up some wounds she accidentally tore. He was intrigued, but she appeared to be embarrassed by it, unwilling to divulge further as she took the supplies he provided and scurried off.

The blonde watched as the door to the bathroom shut, his eyebrows dipping downwards. 'Only fifteen minutes into meeting the first human you have in years, one of the only other people in the middle of space, and you already made her uncomfortable. Outstanding, really. That's got to be a new record.'

Needless to say, he was a nervous mess while he spent his time in the lab, trying and failing to distract his racing mind. He kept wandering around that space, fiddling with anything he could get his hands on.

At one point he realized she'd be hungry and busied himself with making her a cup of ramen, but that only occupied him for a couple of minutes. Then he went to spin around in a chair for a few more until he got dizzy. So he finally decided to look at some samples under the microscope for a bit, anything to stop his mind from replaying his own embarrassment.

What a terrible idea that was. In his frazzled state, the sound of a throat clearing behind him sent him jolting, the expensive device nearly going with him. He had to flail around to keep everything on that table from crashing to the floor.

If he knew anything about first impressions, none of this was going well.

Then he made the mistake of turning around, offering a sheepish smile and hasty greeting, before words decided to fail him. His mouth snapped shut, blue eyes wide as a rush of heat exploded across his face.

Oh no.

He wasn't sure if having his glasses on correctly for once was a blessing or a curse. One of the first people he'd met in ages, and he thought it'd be courteous of him to lend Astra his clothes, purely out of respect for his deceased crew mates. He knew it wouldn't have mattered, but he felt more comfortable leaving their belongings untouched.

Now here he was, unable to look away as his eyes roved over her form that was engulfed by his clothes, and the way her wet, auburn locks framed her face. He also noticed she had freckles, a couple of faded scars and heterochromia eyes, light-green and hazel-brown.

Fudge him. He was doomed.

Despite his own internal struggle – probably external too, he'd never been able to hide his emotions – Astra seemed more at ease after getting cleaned off. A little awkward at first, but it didn't take long for them to get a conversation flowing while she ate. Grace was eager to, finally having someone to chat with after days of talking to himself or the computer system of the ship.

He wasn't sure if it was purely bias due to her being first human he'd met in ages, but he learned very quickly that he liked Astra. She was patient and understanding despite the circumstances, and she matched his playful energy well, already adapting to his presence and complimenting it with her own.

He couldn't even describe the amount of exhilaration he was experiencing. It felt like a weight had finally lifted off his shoulders, alleviated by her presence alone.

Not only was she a doctor, but a scientist as well. A marine biologist of sorts, except with an ocean made entirely out of blood, he supposed. Human blood at that, which he found extremely disturbing and didn't feel like questioning further on what kind of organisms might dwell in that kind of environment.

Nonetheless, the unsettling circumstances she described from her studies only made him respect her further. He couldn't hide his admiration at that point, partially because he enjoyed the way her freckled complexion would light up in a pink hue, too humble to accept the indirect compliment he was giving her. It was cute at first, until it wasn't.

Grace could see her mood depleting at the mention of the Earth's ocean, one she had to study through remaining data rather than the real thing. She never got to experience it, never got to see what it'd look like with her own eyes before it disappeared forever, left only with documentation of what used to be.

In a way, he knew what that was like—having your home ripped away from you against your will. Their situations were vastly different, yet painfully similar in that sense.

He couldn't show her the real thing, obviously. Not yet at least, seeing as the trip back to Earth was going to take a couple of years. However, he knew the next best thing to cheer her up. It was one he'd watched all the time to calm himself, and had used to show Rocky what Earth was like when he wanted to learn more about humans.

The complete and utter awe on her face was worth everything and more. It was like a child seeing it for the first time, nothing but wonder and appreciation lighting up her face as she watched the changing screens around them.

Astra was mesmerized by it, meanwhile he was by her, staring at the way the cool hues of the ocean scenery casted a soft glow on her skin. She was ethereal, and he briefly wondered if he'd made some kind of silent prayer that sent an angel his way.

He wasn't religious is any form, but seeing as science couldn't explain their arrival, he felt that was the case.

When she started crying, he'd panicked, automatically assuming the worst and that he'd somehow upset her. He messed up a lot, so it was practically second nature for him to jump to that conclusion first.

Fortunately, they were happy tears. False alarm on his part. Now he understood Rocky's perspective and how he'd get the two mixed up. He could vividly remember his reaction from the first time he tried to explain it.

"Leaky space blob is complicated. Leak mean good and bad thing. Is confusing and weird, statement."

He missed the little guy. He'd have to show Astra the videos he had of Rocky sometime soon.

They spent a while in the simulation room, with him showing her as many sceneries as possible. He noticed that some of the animals she couldn't identify with her limited knowledge, to which he'd eagerly fill her in on each one along with a little fun fact about them.

At first he'd cringed, the memory of him sharing that tidbit about centrifuge being used to make butter during the Civil War still fresh in his mind—he could never forget every little embarrassing moment of his life. Like then, he silently debated bonking his head against the nearest wall.

Rather than act annoyed or bemused, which was usually the type of reaction he got at his random and trivial knowledge, she looked the exact opposite. If anything it heightened her fascination, to where she'd glance at him expectantly when she wanted to learn more.

So yeah, definitely an angel. He was certain of that now.

By the time things had settled down and they'd gone through countless sceneries, he eventually felt her head rest on his shoulder. At first his body tensed, tilting away in the slightest as his subconscious compared it to the last physical contact he had. It took a split second of him waiting with bated breath to realize the two had no correlation.

Once his brain calmed from its initial scare, he relaxed and leaned back into her. Warmth flooded his body, a sensation that had become foreign to him long before he ended up in space.

So many sleepless nights wondering what he did wrong, of what he did to deserve this curse of solitude throughout his life. He'd been alone for so long, to where he'd forgotten what it felt like to have another person beside him, to feel their body heat radiating into his own.

It was tender and warm, unlike the last interaction he had with a person. Her body was fully leaning into his side, her head nestled on his shoulder like he was as much of a comfort to her as she was to him.

Grace couldn't help but rest his head on top of her own, willing away the tears that stung at his eyes before they could overflow. His arm snuck around her waist, desperate for further contact as it slid underneath the cardigan to rest there, tugging her impossibly closer so he could drown in her warmth. His face buried into her auburn hair, the scent of fresh soap meeting his nose and invading his senses, just like every part of her was.

He missed this. He missed it so much. How could he have gone so long without this? All it took was the gentle touch of another to heal that broken part of him, the one that simply longed to belong with someone.

Unfortunately for him, his newfound moment of satiated yearning wasn't going to last for much longer.

When Simon appeared in that entryway, a tall, brooding figure full of muscle and rage, Grace was positive his soul had left his body. Maybe it had, seeing as he hit his head against the floor and everything went black, the fading shouts of his name all he could hear.

If Astra was an angel, then Simon had to be her demon counterpart.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

When Grace awoke, groggy and confused, the sight he was met with was the last thing he expected. With the position Simon and Astra were in, her shirt lifted halfway up her torso and his hand dangerously low on her back, the assumption made itself.

Fortunately, that wasn't the case, which saved him a lot of embarrassment. The two had been checking each other for mutations, a conversation that opened up a whole new can of worms. This entire situation only got stranger with every new detail that was brought to light.

Though, there was one detail he didn't know a lot about and it started to bother him—their relationship.

The two were definitely close-knit based on their proximity, as if subconsciously they knew not to stray too far from the other. There was a likelihood that it was a trauma response after what they'd been through. Or rather, based on how Astra described their universe – or lack thereof – they formed a bond in a dying civilization that held no future in sight, where a dire and horrific incident that they were forced into only strengthened said bond.

It was as bleak as it was romantic. The idea of dedicating what short amount of life was left to another person, of sharing their despair with someone and creating a personal shield of solace out of it, one that'd inevitably crack under the crushing weight of their society's torment.

Grace wasn't sure whether to find that admirable or extremely depressing—a mix of both, probably. Along with a hint of envy, if he was honest.

'Must be nice, having someone to care for you like that.'

Astra was notably patient with Simon during conversation, always aware of his reserved and belligerent demeanor, one she wasn't afraid to combat. That told him they had to have known each other for quite a while, seeing as she was adapted to his behavior and vice versa. She also knew about his past, something he wasn't very keen on speaking about in Grace's presence, which said a lot.

Whether their relation was in a romantic sense or strictly platonic, he couldn't tell. It could be more complicated than that, especially with how different their circumstances were, though he figured more would reveal itself with time.

But something like that rarely ever stopped his curious mind from wandering.

After Grace learned about Simon's role as an engineer and his soft spot towards gardening, it was like seeing him through a completely new lens. In the greenhouse he caught of glimpse of the mellow nature he was capable of, buried beneath a tough, distrustful exterior.

Was he still terrified of him? A little bit, yeah...

Okay, a lot of bit.

That image of him covered in blood, glaring down at him like he was two seconds away from ripping his head clean off, would probably haunt his dreams for a while.

Not to mention his sheer muscle mass that indicated he could've – and likely would've – done exactly that had Astra not been a shield to him. Grace had muscles as well, but he absolutely did not have a single fighting bone in his body, so they were useless in that regard. Simon's size and stature easily exceeded his own and would've overpowered him, anyway.

The tight fit of his own shirt said that much, hugging the outline of his pectorals down to his defined abdomen. Occasionally when the man reached for one of the plants higher up on the shelf, the fabric would lift, showing off a sliver of tan skin along with a dark trail of hairs leading into his—

Fudge, it's happening again.

He was doomed a second time now.

It was all too overwhelming for his brain. One day he was breaking down from the crushing weight of loneliness, pathetic enough to pretend like his own touch was someone else's. The next, the universe threw two people at him who were not only admirable with their intelligence and resilience, but tantalizingly attractive to where it felt downright cruel.

He hadn't seen people in years, and this is who he got? At that point, the universe was openly mocking him, practically begging for him to make a fool of himself.

More than he already had, he supposed.

Grace blamed it on how long it'd been since he'd been around another human. He forgot how to function, words failing him and thoughts flying out the window whenever he interacted with the two. He'd never been particularly graceful, but with them, his clumsiness bordered on becoming a hazard.

But even if that excuse was true, it didn't change the fact that he was a hot mess and they were two complete strangers.

Were they strangers still? It'd been a couple days and he'd gotten to know a significant amount about them. Enough to where he had a document on his computer filled with notes of his observations on them.

Was that weird? Maybe... No, it was definitely weird. A normal person doesn't write a bunch of notes on the people they just met to learn their behaviors.

But in his defense, it was the only way he could sort out his scrambled mind, writing down the facts to organize what he knew and using that to determine where he stood with them from there.

So far on Astra he had:

– Is a lot more open and friendly. Likes to talk with me about my studies and often goes to me to learn more about Earth. Since she was a child when she left, she doesn't remember too much about it, other than the limited data she had at the space stations.

– Can get nervous and awkward at times, tends to be more clumsy when she is and bumps into things. That's what the bandage on her nose is from?? I heard Simon mention it before, something about hitting it on some metal bars?

– Does occasionally get stressed out, seemingly at random. She tends to either isolate herself or seek comfort from Simon or I when it happens. I'm going to assume it's some sort of trauma response after what they've been through.

– Very playful, likes to tease a lot. She stole my glasses once and pretended to act like me. I couldn't see very well but I liked them on her.

– She liked the skittles I gave her and munches on those every now and then. So likes sour stuff?

– Not very particular with other food, which I suppose is a given when food supplies were next to nothing in her universe. Though she does seem to favor the rehydrated meals that have cheese flavoring to them, along with any type of pasta. I'll save those ones for her.

– She's around Simon and I most of the time, even if it's just to sit nearby and chat while the other is working on something. I think she doesn't like to be alone for long periods of time. I get it, me too.

– Fiddles with her hair a lot, either tugging on it or brushing her fingers through it. I don't think she's used to having her hair down since her hair tie broke.

– She really likes the cardigan I gave her. I sometimes see her tracing the foxes on it or burying herself into the knitted material. It looks better on her, anyway.

– Was a little freaked out by Armando at first, but once she got used to it she became fascinated. She spends some time in the dormitory to learn more about the technology and how it operates via Mary.

– She constantly wants to know more about Rocky. I showed her some videos of him and she seems to love the little guy despite never meeting him. She thinks it's cool that he can see through echolocation.

– Spends a lot of her time in the Don't Go Crazy Room to look at all the different animals on Earth, whether it be to study the ocean life or other environments. I also gave her permission to use my computer so she can research on her own... Hopefully she never sees these notes, maybe that was a bad idea.

– She's an enthusiastic learner. A lot of the time she comes back to me to ramble about what information she's learned so far, and to check certain details with me to confirm if they're true or not. Then she'll run off to find Simon, probably to tell him as well. It's kind of adorable, honestly.

– Very stern when it comes to injuries, especially with the mutations her and Simon are experiencing. She's definitely been panicking over that lately, even if subtle. She also scolds me about my head injury when I overwork myself, even more so after I mentioned I'd hit my head more than once... oops.

- Overall she seems to be adapting well and is good company.

Then there was Simon:

– Very reserved and slightly hostile. Does not want to be near me whatsoever and looks irritated every time I talk. Not the first time someone's looked at me that way, I guess.

– Most of the time he's around Astra, if not then he's alone in the greenhouse room taking care of the plants. Both of those seem to keep him calm but he always looks tense to me, like he's waiting for something bad to happen.

– Has some anger issues? He lashes out pretty frequently, I can hear him hit a wall or break objects at times. He also apologizes to them afterwards, which is... endearing? I don't know what to call it.

– His residual limb can trigger his anger, seeing as he's still adapting to it. Astra has to help with some tasks every now and then when he gets too frustrated. I tried to help once, but he looked like he was ready to kill me, so I won't be trying that again.

– He has a burn scar on the left side of his neck, which poorly covers a thin tattoo underneath. Some kind of cultural thing? Astra briefly mentioned he was from Eden instead of the C.O.I., so maybe that was a tradition there, like the bracelets. He also seems attached to that.

– Very quiet, definitely not the talkative type. Only really speaks when Astra is around and isn't afraid to say what's on his mind. Unfortunately most of the time it's to verbally attack me.

– Not very open about his emotions or past, at least not to me, which can be concluded from the previous point.

– Night terrors? I sometimes hear him wake up in the dormitory section of the ship and have heard Astra mention it briefly before. I think she has them as well, just not as noticeable.

– He curses, a lot. I don't think I've heard him say a sentence without a curse word in it. Reminds me of one of my students that learned the f-word and wouldn't stop saying it for an entire week. Yikes.

– For the most part he tends to ignore me like I'm not even there, save for the glare he'll send my way if he catches me staring. That has happened embarrassingly often, I need to stop doing that.

– He still hates Armando and refuses to go near the robot unless absolutely necessary for his medication, otherwise he prefers Astra to tend to his injuries. I get that, Armando freaked me out at first too, and Astra is skilled at what she does.

– Believes me about Rocky now that he saw the videos, but he doesn't seem too happy at the idea of an alien rock that looks like a giant spider/crab—or aliens at all, for that matter. Again, scared me at first too, so understandable. At least Rocky isn't here, I don't know how Simon would react to him in person... Probably not well.

– Stares out at the stars a lot. Like, a lot. I think he's trying to convince himself they're not going to disappear again.

– Hates sour stuff? Astra told me he spit out a skittle when she tried to give it to him, which is funny.

– It took a while for me to get him to eat. Maybe he was skeptical I would poison him or something. But he likes the burritos the most, scarfs those down whenever he gets them. I'll save what I have left for him.

– He's a quick learner. I had him look at the new xenonite fuel tanks and he understood how to check and maintain them pretty quickly. Way faster than I had, it took me ages since I was scared I'd end up causing a new leak.

– He checks over the other systems of the ship to ensure they're all working properly. I was not staring when he bent over to fix an error with the electrical panel... Then why would you even write that down???

– Apparently he knows how to pilot as well. It took him a minute to adjust to the 360° layout in the cockpit, but he knew all the controls. It would've been nice to have him around to teach me, Rocky was so bossy... Actually, Simon might be worse now that I think about it, since he doesn't actually like me.

– He's very good at taking care of the plant life in the greenhouse, has them labeled and everything. I can't wait to have a potato. I miss potatoes so badly, I wish I had stuff to make some fries or chips. Now I want a burger. I'm making myself hungry I need to stop typing.

– Overall he's adapting slowly, but still skeptical of everything.

What could he conclude from all that? That they were friends now? For Astra, at least. Simon definitely would've shot that notion down. So an acquaintance, maybe.

He didn't know, and his mind was spiraling out of control the longer he dwelled on it. He wasn't sure what was worse, wallowing in his own misery and desperation for human contact when he was all alone, or becoming painfully aware of his social shortcomings and the irregular pace of his heartbeat once he was faced with two new people, that of which he became attached to far too quickly.

Also, when did he start liking men? Had he always? It was one of the first questions he had after he woke up with amnesia, until he found out about his ex-girlfriend and cleared that off the list.

Clearly not completely, considering the internal crisis he was facing now.

And he had absolutely no clue how to deal with any of it, other than mentally beat himself up while screaming into the abyss.

"Uhm, Grace..?"

At the call of his name, he jolted. Wide, blue eyes snapped to the source, meeting light-green and hazel-brown irises that stared back at him with worry. Then they darted over, to dark-brown and crimson eyes that lazily scanned over his face.

"You okay? You spaced out there." Astra pointed out softly, a concerned furrow to her brow. Her gaze lifted, to where he already knew what spot she was eyeing. "You've been doing that a lot lately. Are you sure your head is okay after that fall?"

Grace nodded, the motion quick enough to make his glasses slip down the bridge of his nose. "Yes! Yeah. Mhm, I'm good. I just get lost in my own thoughts a lot. It's, uh, normal for me." He winced, the jumble of words that left him sounding anything but convincing. "Sorry, I didn't— What were you saying? Something about the, uh– uh..?"

"Mutations." Astra finished for him, not looking completely satisfied with his answer, yet not pushing further. "Since it's been a few days, we wanted to write down the progression. We've noticed some changes, but it hasn't had any adverse affects on our health, which is a good sign."

The blonde perked up, an excited grin forming on his face at the new topic, one that allowed him to momentarily forget about his mental dilemma. Maybe it was strange, but he found himself fascinated ever since he heard about the physical alterations happening to their bodies. After their initial misunderstanding, he took the time to jot down the mutations Astra noticed so far on each of them, and he'd been impatiently waiting to add onto them in the days that followed.

For the sake of science, obviously. Nothing else.

These mutations were unlike anything he'd ever seen before, and with the information Astra provided about the ominous blood ocean, he was chomping at the bit to gather more data on how this strange entity worked. From what he knew so far, the ocean was its own organism and ecosystem at the same time. It was parasitic in the way it'd leech off of any hosts that came in direct contact with it, trying to assimilate them to become one with itself.

Apparently that's what the blood eel was, a creature she described that should've sentenced them to their death before they popped up here. A research crew, the SM-8, was supposedly trapped inside that creature, mutated and absorbed into one another from the affects of the blood ocean after one of them wouldn't stop drinking it.

Awful stuff, really. Sounds like the plot of a horror movie.

But he was relieved to hear that there were no issues with their health. That meant the absurd proposal of it only spreading to certain sections of the body before the multiplying abruptly stopped might ring true.

"Let me grab my laptop! You two can sit on the floor and I'll check you over in a second." He spoke in a rush, suddenly bursting with energy as he bounded over to grab said device. "Any obvious ones I should write down now?"

"There's scales on our arms." Simon noted, holding out his arm to show off the crimson painting it in splotches. "Doesn't cover them entirely, more like clusters where the radiation burns were."

Astra shrugged off the fox cardigan to set it aside, revealing her own forearms covered in a similar manner, instead with a deep green hue. Notably Simon's arm had a greater amount of scales than hers, likely due to the fact his radiation burns were more severe, thus allowing the infectious blood to spread through that area quicker.

Grace eyed the two as they settled on the floor beside each other. He made a mental note of their close proximity, to where their legs brushed together and their shoulders touched.

His gaze darted away so he could type in the new information. "Do you think it got into your bloodstream through your open wounds and spread from there? It's most prominent in those areas." He pointed out while grabbing his computer to walk over to them.

"I thought that, but there are unharmed areas that have mutations as well, like my teeth and nails. They're a bit sharper. So it wouldn't make sense that it'd only be through that." She countered, giving a helpless shrug as the blonde walked by. "It also hasn't completely spread throughout our bodies, considering we're still the same for the most part."

Grace settled behind them, typing away at the laptop momentarily before he slid it off his lap and to the side. "I mean, it doesn't look like you're turning into a giant eel anytime soon. So I think that's a positive." He replied in a joking manner, his smile turning sheepish when Simon sent him an unamused side-glance. "Anywayyy, let's see what's going on! I'll start with you, Astra."

The auburn-haired woman gave him a thumbs down at her side, her grin teasing as she turned to the man beside her. "Sure. Give Simon some time to make sure he doesn't bite your hand off."

He huffed and sent her a glare, responding with a grumble that held no real bite to it. "Shut up." Then he spared a glance towards the blonde, before he turned back around. "I haven't bit him yet, have I?"

That question had Grace's entire face flaring up, reading it completely wrong with the low, rumbling bass of his voice. Laughter bubbled up from Astra's throat, the joyous, melodic sound doing little to calm the heat searing across his pale complexion.

"No, I guess not. Just don't make it a first." She replied, a smile still evident in her tone.

Grace cleared his throat awkwardly, earning a quick, amused peek from Astra over her shoulder that he subconsciously shrunk away from. "Aheh... Yeah, please don't."

He swore he heard a breath of a laugh come from Simon. Nothing more than an exhale through the nose and a subtle movement of the shoulders, but it was the most positive reaction he'd gotten from him so far. For his own sake he shifted his attention back to the task at hand, lest he wanted to become the shade of a tomato.

Unfortunately, that was going to happen anyway since he forgot what this part entailed.

Okay, he just had to focus. He did this once before— Actually, it was them partially showing and partially explaining the changes to him. So no, he hadn't examined them this up close.

Shoot.

Slow as molasses, he reached forward as if he were approaching a wild animal. His hands grabbed the material of her shirt at the edge, lifting it up to where his hands made zero contact with her skin. He was expecting something, holding his breath like he awaited some kind of backlash. All she did was shift in her spot, even raising a hand up to ensure most of her unruly, auburn hair was out of the way.

Right. This was an examination to study any changes in their mutations, or new ones that could've formed. Nothing embarrassing about it.

Except the fact that Simon was right beside her, and he could very much feel the way he kept looking back at him.

Suddenly Astra's joke about Simon biting him felt a little more literal. Not that he would've minded—

Nope. He needed to focus.

His hands pulled away, seeing as Astra had taken over to hold up the shirt for him. Those blue irises scanned over the exposed area of her back, dilated pupils taking in every detail—the freckles spattered across her pale skin, faded cuts and bruises here and there, and the most glaring one, the crimson dorsal fins that had grown from the center of her spine.

They didn't look all that different, aside from the variation in size. The fins were larger near the upper portion of her back, before shrinking down as they trailed to either end. But of course, that's not what his brain was fixated on. Instead it was roving over the soft skin, his hands twitching in his lap, aching to reach forward and smooth his fingers along it.

The fins reached up to the base of her neck, judging from the indent beneath the shirt. It was then that he noticed there wasn't any extra fabric underneath. His brows furrowed as he stared at the bare skin of her upper back, trying to recall why that missing detail was odd.

It took a solid ten seconds before it hit him and he felt like the dumbest man alive.

'A bra. She isn't wearing a bra, obviously. Women wear those, Ryland. And now you're staring very intensely at her bare back like a creep.'

At this point, he was fairly certain his face and ears were flaming. Out of all the things for his brain to run a blank on, it had to be that?

Of course she wasn't wearing one, because it got airlocked into space with the rest of the ruined clothes and blood stained towels. And he, being the idiot he was, only provided the clothes he thought were necessary—the cardigan, a t-shirt, pants, socks and underwear.

Oh dear god.

She was wearing his—

The mental image that popped into his head needed to be extinguished immediately. His face was going to explode.

Letting these two borrow and swap his clothes was the biggest mistake of his life, cause clearly it had switched on a chemical in his brain that only cared about that. It was prominent in his past – and only – relationship, but given that this scenario was definitely not that, he was ready to slam his head against a wall in hopes to reset his brain.

What was wrong with him? He was five seconds away from airlocking himself into the emptiness of space.

"Anything different?" Astra asked after a beat, the sound of her voice making him flinch back.

"Uh, yeah— Yes, there's a difference." He swallowed, hoping his voice didn't sound as strained as it felt. "The dorsal fins grew a bit in some parts. So it starts large around the top, then proceeds to get the smaller the further down it..."

He trailed off, eyes squinting from behind his glasses as he zeroed in on her lower back. Lost in his own daze, he missed the splotches of green scales forming above the hem of her pants, the fins seeming to dip beneath the cloth with it.

At his silence, Astra tilted her head to glance over her shoulder at him. "What is it? Is there something else?" She asked, her grip on the shirt faltering as she began to nervously shuffle where she sat.

"Maybe. Do you mind if I—?" He paused, unsure on how to phrase it without sounding awkward. "The fins go underneath your pants. So is it alright if I check under them?" That wasn't great wording, either.

To be fair, there wasn't exactly a normal way to ask a woman to look inside her pants, even in this unusual scenario. Didn't make him cringe any less, though.

She blinked a couple of times, and Grace desperately avoided eye contact as he could feel Simon's stare burning into him. At first she tried to angle her face further, attempting to see what he could, but to no avail.

With a shaky sigh, she rested her body forward again. "That's fine. Go ahead." She murmured, the possibility of a new abnormality putting her on edge, noticeable in the way her voice wavered.

With her permission, Grace went to loop his thumb in the center of her waist band. He pulled it back, forcing himself to ignore the sight of his boxer briefs hugging her hips—surprisingly easy, after he noticed what was underneath there.

Sprouting from her tailbone, there was a small, scaly appendage, the dorsal fins running along it similar to her spine. It was like an extension of it, to which it didn't take him long to figure out what it was.

"Oh." That's all the left him, the sound causing her to tense. His lips pursed, staring for a while longer to confirm what it was before he spoke again. "You're growing a little tail."

It was actually kind of cute. Judging from their responses though, they didn't hold the same sentiment as the amazed scientist.

"What?!"

"What the fuck?"

Was their simultaneous responses, with Simon leaning backwards to get a better look. Grace held the fabric with one hand, using the other to raise the appendage up for his view, only to startle when Astra's body jolted away.

"Sorry! I was just trying to get a better look at it." He panicked, his hands flinging away from her like he had been burned. "Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to– God, I'm so sorry!"

Astra was quick to wave a hand in dismissal, her shirt falling to bunch around her middle. "N–no, it's fine. It didn't hurt, it just feels... strange." She replied hesitantly, her breaths coming out in shallow bursts at the sudden spike of anxiety. "Fuck, is it really a tail?"

The disbelief in her voice was prominent, to which Grace glanced back down with a grimace on his face. "I think so? Not sure what else it'd be since it's growing from your tailbone. But it's small right now, so hopefully it stays that way."

Astra hummed, a wobbly sound that wasn't very reassured by that. "Okay. Well, that's definitely new."

While Grace went to input their new findings, Simon observed the small appendage with a mix of interest and disturbance. "How'd you not notice it until now? That seems pretty obvious."

"Can you move it around?" Grace interjected with that question, halting Astra from forming a snarky remark. Instead she shot a glare at the dark-haired man, who remained unfazed with a subtle, amused smirk on his face.

She let out a huff, her hands fiddling in her lap. "I don't know. Guess I could try..." She mumbled, unsure as to how she'd even do that—just think about it moving, she supposed.

It was as simple as that, her body twitching on instinct when she could feel the appendage shift. The experience was jarring to herself, but not to the two men around her, one appearing mildly intrigued while the other was bursting with exhilarated fascination.

"You can! How does it feel? Is it like having another limb? Or I guess it's not considered a limb, too small and no joints, so an appendage. But you know what I mean!" The scientist rambled while he snatched up the computer, eager to write down the new discovery as quickly as possible. "Can you control it voluntarily, such as the direction? Or does it move on its own? Do you have to think about it for it move?"

While Astra could understand his insatiable curiosity – she'd been there plenty of times herself – it felt a lot more overwhelming when she was the subject of it. Her head was spinning, trying to digest the fact she had a tail now, while also failing to keep up with the blonde behind her as he listed off multiple questions at a rapid pace.

Simon, who could practically see her head buffering in real time, shot a warning glare towards Grace. "Give her a second. She's not some animal in a zoo for you to study." He snapped, his demeanor shifting from calm to irritated in the blink an eye.

That was another thing Grace noticed about Simon. He was generally impassive – though he figured that was how he guarded himself – save for his aggressive tendencies. The man got annoyed very easily, especially towards himself or with anything negative involving Astra.

While Simon did appear to have a temper with his sudden outbursts around the ship, moments like these felt different—a spontaneous anger in response to protecting something close to him. It was as if whenever Astra became distressed, he became hyper-aware of it, his brain automatically on the defense to shield her from whatever was causing it.

It convinced him further that there had to be something between them. No one would have that strong of reaction unless they cared deeply for the person it was affecting.

Grace blinked, looking away from his screen as he tilted his head. "You know what a zoo is?" He knew that question was wrong as soon as it left his mouth, the harsh glower he received making him shrink into himself. "Sorry! That was the wrong thing to focus on. I didn't mean to— Obviously she's not. I just wanted to see what she was feeling and how the tail worked, so I could add onto the mutation notes... and that sounds bad, doesn't it? How do I—"

Astra quickly interrupted, addressing the man beside her with a loud exhale. "Simon, stop terrorizing the poor man for five seconds. You'll make him pass out again." She sent the blonde a weak smile over her shoulder, a silent reassurance that she held no offense to his onslaught of questioning. "I'm fine... It's just a lot to process. First time having a tail and all."

It was obvious she was trying to mask her nerves with humor, even as the playful tinge to her voice faltered. Grace offered her a sympathetic smile, his hands hovering over the keyboard uncertainly once she turned away. He debated physical comfort for a second, anything to ease her nerves, until his eyes shifted down, spotting their interlocked hands against Simon's thigh before darting away again.

There was a painful squeeze in his chest, one he forced himself to ignore.

"No, I got carried away. Sorry about that." He mumbled, the enthusiasm in his voice drained. He scratched at the back of his neck, keeping his eyes trained solely on the screen. "If you want, I can move onto Simon's examination if you need a breather."

"Yeah, I think– I think that's a good idea." She nodded along as her smile fell, her complexion paler than usual. As the woman stumbled up to her feet and adjusted her shirt, she sent Simon a warning glance. "Don't do anything stupid, Si."

Said person rolled his eyes, a stark contrast to the worry swirling inside them as he watched her walk away. "No promises." Another pointed stare was sent his way, causing him to turn away with a shrug.

The silence that settled over the pair after she left was defeaning, with a tension so thick it could be sliced through with a knife.

Grace shifted where he sat, ten times more nervous than he had been with Astra still around. He'd only been alone with Simon a handful of times, and even then it was at a distance. Neither of the two actually interacted with one another, it was more so him observing the man until he'd get caught, the withering stare he'd get in return making him scurry away.

Needless to say, there was a fifty-fifty chance he'd get out of this alive.

Unable to stand the painful silence much longer, Grace reluctantly opened his mouth. "Are you alright if I—?"

"I'll do it." Simon's gruff voice cut him off, his tone suggesting he wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

The blonde swallowed a lump in his throat, not daring to object or move from where he was frozen. He watched as the man peeled his shirt off with practiced ease, having adapted to doing so with one arm after countless frustrated entanglements in the fabric. It was carelessly tossed aside, joining the cardigan Astra left behind.

He tried not to stare, for more reasons than one. Muscles rippled along the tan skin of his back, littered with faded scars that consisted of cuts and burns marks of different shapes and sizes. He wondered how he'd gotten the prior of those two. It wasn't the type of wound that'd come from working with machinery, especially the larger wounds that could've only healed from a nasty gash through the flesh.

Strange. He'd make a mental note of that.

Aside from that, there was an unmistakable alteration on the left side of his torso—most of his mutations seemed to stem from that side, except for his right arm. Along his ribs four long, dark slits cut into the skin, the entire area around it scarred like it had been scorched. They looked like gills from the way the skin overlapped and connected, and considering they were mutating from an ocean-like environment, it made sense.

Grace tilted his head to the side, concentrated on the new abnormality as he subconsciously reached forward. He went to drag a finger underneath a gill, simply to confirm that's what it was, his touch as light as a feather to avoid any harm.

Unfortunately, his touch was still harmful in a way that didn't cause pain. The muscles in his back immediately tensed, before Simon whirled around to the side, his right hand latching onto his in an iron grip.

The snarl on his face had Grace's heart plummeting into his stomach, even more so with the rows of teeth that split further open from it. His crimson iris practically glowed, both eyes glaring into his very soul with pupils reduced to slits, burning with a resentment that could only stem from years of torment.

"The fuck are you doing?" He snapped, his hold crushing around his hand. His voice was rigid, an edge to it that devolved into a frantic tremble near the end.

Grace winced, both from the pain shooting up his arm and the predatory-like stare burning into him. Bad idea, his stupid brain shouldn't have done that. He silently prayed that Astra returned before Simon ate him alive.

"I–I was checking the new mutation on your left side! You have gills, but I wasn't sure at first, so I was just trying to see if it was!" He rushed out through gritted teeth, his hand flexing uncomfortably in his grip. "Can you please let go now? That hurts."

Simon blinked, his harsh gaze flickering from the blonde's scrunched up countenance to the hand trapped in his grasp. With a huff he released it, shoving it towards his body and sending him backwards with the sudden momentum. He didn't spare him another glance as he turned back around.

"Don't touch me again. Got it?" He grumbled under his breath, slouching forward with his arm propped against his crossed legs. The statement about the gills was hardly processed by his erratic mind.

Grace cradled his hand to his chest as he sat up, scooting himself further away from the man in front of him. He swallowed thickly, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart from the sudden spike of fear that shot through him. "Uhm... Yes, got it. I'm sorry, I should've asked before I did that."

After that, an awkward silence settled over the two. He pursed his lips, staring at Simon's head of dark, wavy hair with uncertainty.

So he definitely had some trust and anger issues from his past. Potentially some problems with violence as well, if his newly bruised hand had a say in it.

The scientist didn't say anything further – he was not risking any other bodily harm – and instead busied himself with placing the laptop in his lap. He began typing away at the keyboard, occasionally wincing from the ache in his left hand and trying to stretch out the sore muscles.

The quiet in the room was suffocating. Even the clicking of the keys was like nails on a chalkboard, far too loud when all he wanted was to disappear from Simon's radar completely. Somehow it went far worse than he expected, which was saying a lot since he didn't think it'd go well in the first place.

Could Astra come back now? He needed adult supervision before he ended up running off like a frightened deer.

Simon shifted where he sat, the motion causing Grace to tense up, now hyper-aware of every movement he made. He could hear a clink and shuffling, a sound that told him he was fiddling with the bracelet he kept wound around his wrist.

Then there was a deep breath, like the next words about to leave his mouth needed every ounce of courage to utter. "Is your hand okay?" His voice was quiet, a hint of regret replacing the animosity from earlier.

Grace eyed the man, namely his posture—taut frame, hunched shoulders, fidgeting arm and hand. Signs of guilt, ones that had him unknowingly relaxing in his spot.

Okay, a sliver of progress. He could work with that.

"It should be fine. Nothing broken, sooo..." He responded, the syllables slow and hesitant. Though a flex of his hand made him grimace and second guess himself. "At least I don't think it is? I've never broken a bone before but I imagine it hurts way more than this. It'll probably just be a bad bruise."

Simon rolled his shoulder, his head tilting against it yet refusing to turn towards him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, uh... attack you, like that." He mumbled, surprisingly sincere despite the strain in his voice. "I just– I'm not comfortable with– with..."

The words died in his throat, unable to properly express what he wanted to say. He never was good at talking about his feelings, let alone to someone he'd only known for a couple of days and didn't want to reveal too much to.

Though, Grace had observed him up until this point, and with the information he already knew about them, the answer was fairly obvious.

"People you don't know well enough to determine what their intentions might be?" He finished for him. In a way, he could understand and empathize with that—he wished he'd acted even the slightest bit wary when he naively decided to be apart of this mission.

Simon gave a low hum of confirmation, the muscles in his back visibly protracting from relief. Grace couldn't see his expression and the conflict that might have been there, but at least he was calming down.

Which was very reassuring after he nearly gave him a heart attack and a broken hand. Simon was as strong as he looked, that was certain.

There wasn't a reply aside from that, so he took that as his sign to continue. "I get it. You don't trust me, and I don't blame you with how crazy all of this is. I'd be skeptical too if I was in your shoes." He spoke a little quickly, anxious to finally get this off his chest after days of avoidance. "You don't have to trust me, I'm not trying to convince you to. But for what it's worth, I'm not going to hurt you or Astra. Don't think someone like me could even if I tried. Plus, it's two against one, so..."

It was a poor attempt at a joke, one that had no noticeable reaction. Grace gave an awkward clearing of his throat, quickly moving on from that. "What I mean is, I'm only trying to help the best I can. I know this situation isn't ideal after what you've been through, and it's difficult for you to believe me, but I'd have no reason to lie. I want to help you guys get home, to get back to the Earth you once knew... I want to go home, too."

His words slowed at the end, softening into a whisper that held nothing but longing. Returning to Earth had been all he could think about since this trip began, aside from the occasional derail when it came to how much he missed Rocky—the sole reason he was able to return home in the first place.

But there wasn't anything he could do about his alien friend now. Not when he was given a second chance at life, the one he was robbed of to be sent on a suicide mission he wanted no part of. Yet somehow, it ended up being the best experience of his life.

Well, apart from where he almost died a few of times. He could've done better without those close calls.

Regardless, he wanted to return to Earth as much as these two did and had no reason to steer them wrong. Though, he wouldn't admit aloud that he didn't mind the trip as much now that they had come along and satiated the loneliness that was driving him to the brink of insanity. Even Simon's presence made him feel at ease, just not in a way that prevented his heart from palpitating in his chest.

There was a beat of silence, one where Grace figured that was the end of their conversation. At least he'd gotten the brooding and closed-off man to talk for a little bit, so he'd consider that an improvement in their relation. He didn't try to push, simply returning his attention to his personal notes to jot some extra details down as he let his words hang in the air.

To his surprise, Simon's deep voice reached his ears, his words reluctant like he didn't know what to say but needed to get something out. "I, uh, actually never knew what Earth was like. It'll be nice to return to a planet instead of a damn ship or station, but it's not exactly my home."

The blonde perked up, suddenly like an eager puppy once he remembered that key detail. It was as if the previous interaction had been erased from his memory—except for the forming contusion on his hand, but he paid it little mind.

"Right, you lived on Mars! What was that like? How were you guys able to sustain life on an uninhabitable planet?" Before he could stop himself, the questions began to spew from his mouth, his intrigue too much to fight off. "There's no living organisms, no water and no soil for a food source, nor a breathable atmosphere. Or did all of that change by the time you guys colonized the planet? Does it eventually meet those requirements on its own, or did humans change it to be that way?"

Simon blinked, sending a glance over his shoulder like he was refraining from glaring at the scientist. It was judgemental in the sense that he was bombarding him with unnecessary questions he didn't have the answer to, yet not malicious like his other looks. More so a mild annoyance, one where he silently regretted restarting the conversation in the first place after realizing he had to talk more.

When Grace acknowledged him with a sheepish shrug in return, he huffed, his gaze quickly snapping away. "I don't know much about the, uh, science around that. Was just a kid at the time. I think there was technology that made it liveable, never learned how it worked, though." He mumbled while scratching at his beard. "But a lot of people lived there. I think it was more populated than Earth before the... y'know."

"Really? That's surprising considering the difference in the planets sizes and resources." Grace remarked with interest, unable to fathom how Mars could populate more people than Earth, which was already overcrowded. That was, assuming their Earth's population had been the same as his. "So I'm assuming this advanced technology was used to create a breathable atmosphere. If that's the case, then what about water? Or plants and animals?"

Simon hummed, his brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to remember what he could. "Animals were trickier than humans. They didn't adapt as easily to new environments, especially artificial ones. I remember wanting to see some as a kid, but my mom explained that the only animals we had were those that were on farms at the time. They were working on expanding it." A smirk curled on his lips, turning his head enough to see the blonde behind him through his dark, wavy hair. "So yes, I know what a zoo is. I just never got to see one."

"Ah." Grace felt his face flare up, clearing his throat as he averted his gaze back to his screen. "So then, were most people vegan on Mars? If you could grow crops, that is. I'm assuming so, since animals don't appear to be the main food source."

"We could, we had large centers dedicated to growing and maintaining crops year round." Simon nodded, eyeing the cracked pendant he was subconsciously messing with. "I guess you could say we relied more on that, along with artificial foods created to replace the nutrients lacking from our diet. Meat was more of a luxury, if anything."

Grace's fingers flew across the keyboard as he typed in every detail with complete immersion, having long since abandoned the mutation document. "Then if you were able to do all that, there must be a recyclable water source on the planet? Plants need water to live. Along with every other life form, apparently."

The last part was a mumble, his sour tone making Simon tilt his head, glancing at him from the corner of his eye questioningly. Seeing as Grace refused to look his way, seemingly mulling over something irritating in his own head, he brushed it off.

"We had an ocean of sorts that was man-made to create a water system that ran through the cities." He answered slowly. "It was closed off from the public. Strictly used for essential needs of the people through a recycling system so it wouldn't dry up."

"Then this colony on Mars was created to be like a smaller Earth replica, in a sense?" Grace clarified, struggling to picture how this colony would look with all of Simon's descriptions, especially with how barren Mars was. So far, his brain was picturing something similar to a sci-fi movie—their universe was further into the future, after all.

Simon gave a helpless shrug of his shoulders. "I guess, just a lot hotter and drier than it. Like a desert on Earth, but it's the entire planet." He tried to explain more, his face scrunching up at the fuzzy memories. "Lots of dust storms, not much rain. Some plant life here and there for the landscape, but it's pretty sparse. Other vegetation was usually maintained in large polytunnels, like the crops and botanical gardens."

The blonde gave a hum of acknowledgment, jotting down what he said when the sound of footsteps caught his attention. He glanced up, spotting Astra as she stepped into the lab.

She sent them a small smile, her complexion no longer a ghostly pale hue, much to each of their relief. "How's everything going so f—?"

Before she could finish, Simon turned to her with an expression that was entirely deadpan. "I bruised his hand. Might've broken it, don't know."

Immediately her face dropped, her eyebrows shooting up in a mixture of shock and distress. "You– you did what?! Simon!"

Grace chuckled nervously, holding onto his laptop as the auburn-haired woman rushed over. "I'm fine, really! It was a small misunderstanding. No harm done. I don't think it's broken or anything. It's probably—"

For the first time Simon actually turned around, and Grace found the frantic words dying on his tongue, shrinking into himself as the larger man stared him straight on. Wordlessly he reached his hand out, the crimson scales growing along his forearm shining beneath the overhead lights.

"Wha—" Grace sputtered as he plucked the computer from him, carelessly setting it aside and shutting it. "Hey, I was using that! I'm not done writing down your new—"

He barely had time to adjust before he was bombarded by a fretful Astra. She crowded against his side and grabbed at his arm to check the damage, all while scolding the dark-haired man under her breath, who looked entirely unfazed by it.

He was more than positive his face was glowing red, whether it be from the proximity of her squished against his side, or the fingers delicately examining his hand and wrist where the discoloration was blooming across his pale skin. It was obvious, he knew it was because he saw Simon's mismatched irises flicker across his face, before he turned away with a barely contained snicker.

Was that a good reaction? Or was he silently making fun of him again? It felt impossible to tell, even after their first actual conversation together.

Either way, he was on fire and about to melt into a puddle right then and there if she kept touching him. The things these two were doing to his brain could not be healthy in the slightest.

God, he was so screwed.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

After Astra had ensured his hand was not broken, they checked for any further changes in their appearances, then went their separate ways. That left Grace to finish up any notes, both mutation wise and his personal observations. The lighting system in the ship had dimmed to simulate night-time, so aside from the bright glow of his computer screen, it was dark.

Some time had passed before Grace was both satisfied and exhausted from his typing. The laptop was closed and slid onto a nearby table before he stood up to stretch, the darkness of the ship now enveloping him.

His quilt and pillow remained in the lab where it always had, tucked against a corner of xenonite. It was a spot that Rocky often watched over him from when he overworked himself and refused to sleep, until the alien would basically throw a tantrum about him making himself stupid and ruining tasks.

He missed the little guy. Even with his new company and the exhilaration of experiencing human contact again, something was still missing.

Alien or not, Rocky was a close friend of his, and the regret of leaving him behind was steadily creeping in again—a dreadful pit in his gut of being alone, stranded in deep space with nothing but his thoughts to accompany him.

Without thinking his feet began to move, his converse scraping against the metal platforms as he trudged through the ship. Not long after he found his destination, he froze, standing in the entryway with an arm propped against the side to peer in.

Astra and Simon slept in the dormitory most of the time from his knowledge. It was a place meant for sleeping with its beds, padded floors and walls. So yeah, he supposed that's why. Definitely the only remotely comfy spot on this ship, way better than sleeping on the hard floor with a blanket and pillow.

However, the beds were empty and he could see their two figures crowded in the corner—funnily enough the one farthest from where Armando was stationed near the beds.

Simon had his back against the walls, his head resting lazily atop of unruly, auburn locks where Astra's head laid against his upper chest. His one arm was wrapped securely around her waist, her own wrapped around and tucked behind his back, their legs intertwined beneath the blanket that covered their lower halves. The top half was lazily covered by the chunky fox cardigan, more so over her than the man lying beneath her—her body heat would've been warmth enough.

They were both already fast asleep, looking completely unbothered by the rest of the world around them, like their worries had melted away the second they were in each other's arms.

He didn't know about it, other than he had heard them wake up from night terrors before. When he'd go to check on them, they were usually sitting next to each other by then, but he supposed he should've assumed there was more comfort in proximity when it came to their sleeping arrangements.

Astra didn't like to be alone, and Simon didn't like stray too far from the one person he was fond of. They needed to be together at night, a time when the haunting memories of their past came to plague their minds. They needed to keep each other safe.

Grace already understood why Rocky wanted to be close, to watch over him. Yet somehow seeing them, despite it being the exact same premise, made him realize how vastly different the two feelings were.

This wasn't the same as him seeking the reassurance Rocky's presence gave him. These were people, with a strong bond that he had no part of and couldn't just barge in because of his own unease.

'They wouldn't want...'

For a minute Grace stared, the steady hum of the ship suddenly deafening to his ears. As he gazed upon the two, wrapped up in each other's arms, shielded away from the rest of the universe in their own little world, he realized something.

Even now, with two new people on board, the company of humans he had been longing for ages now...

He was still alone.

'They wouldn't want me... to bother them. You'll be fine. You always have been.'

Quietly, he walked off, careful not to disrupt their slumber as he trailed back to the pillow and blanket awaiting him in the corner of his lab. He grabbed something along the way, setting it nearby with his discarded glasses before he settled into his spot for the night.

As he burrowed himself in the fabric, shielded away from the universe that seemed to constantly torment him, a small xenonite statue of Rocky sat beside him, watching over him from millions of miles away.

Maybe it wasn't written in the stars for him to belong anywhere.

Me projecting through my new fav character?? More likely than you think

"This is your fault, y'know."

Astra's voice broke through the silence, her tone holding no vexation even with the accusatory statement, only exhaustion. She didn't spare him a glance, focused on the task that was currently laid across her lap. Her deft fingers worked around the bandages, wounding them around and underneath unruly strands of dirty blonde hair.

Turns out Grace had either knocked himself out when he hit his head, or passed out from sheer terror. She'd argue it was a mix of both. He didn't hit his head hard enough to cause trauma, save for a bloody scrape across his skin, and he looked on the verge of fainting from the sight of Simon alone.

Which was a fair reaction in her eyes. Seeing the large, muscled frame of a deranged looking man smeared in blood and missing an arm was a sight that'd send most people running—or in this case tumbling off a platform.

Ever so delicately she applied a layer of adhesive wrap, keeping the bandages in place before she brushed his messy, dirty blonde locks over top of it. She moved Grace's head off her lap, instead resting it on top of the random pillow and blanket that was in the lab.

Content with her work, her gaze finally returned to Simon, who was already watching with furrowed brows. Those dark brown eyes were uncertain, switching between staring daggers at the blonde scientist and gazing worriedly at the auburn-haired woman sat beside him. The distrust he emanated was palpable, his muscles tense and posture guarded, as if something bad would happen the minute Grace woke up.

He didn't say anything, having remained eerily silent ever since she explained their situation. It wasn't hard to read his expression, to visualize the gears turning inside his head, desperate to make sense of this outcome yet failing miserably. There was a fleeting moment of relief at first, an acknowledgment of how lucky they were to escape death's clutches. However, it was quickly overpowered by the paranoia of being stranded in an unknown place with a complete stranger.

With a sigh Astra hoisted herself up, causing his attention to shift to her approaching form. Wordlessly she slumped down on his right side—the one with his remaining arm, a reminder that brought a frown to her lips. Her hand found his, setting them on her lap while her fingers intertwined with his own.

"How are you feeling?" It was a broad question, one that could have multiple different answers to it. She didn't mind whichever one he answered to, seeking to provide any comfort she could to his reeling mind.

Simon stayed quiet, yet his fingers easily laced with her own, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away. His head fell backwards against the wall, staring off at the ceiling as he struggled to form a response that conveyed the tidal wave of emotions he was experiencing.

Waking up to that cluster of robot arms had been jarring, even worse when he realized he was missing one of his own. It was horrifying how he could still feel it, his brain sending signals to move his left hand but only able to wiggle around the stub that cut off at his bicep. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't close to crying, a burn behind his eyes that was worsening by the second.

He was stressed and irritated, that automated voice continuously ringing in his ears, unable to let him breathe for one fucking second. Simon was ready to throw the nearest object at it, except the sight of another empty bed halted his actions, the blood stains along it triggering an alarming fact in his already overwhelmed brain.

Astra.

The minute her name popped into his mind, he was hurling himself off the bed in a panic, ignoring the protests from the robot above and the way his body screamed in pain.

At first he struggled to come to terms with the fact he was alive. He was more than certain that the submarine had been shredded to pieces, and he was either ripped apart with it or drowned in blood—maybe a mixture of both, according to his lost arm.

Now he was realizing he wasn't alone when that happened, and yet said person was no where to be found.

Astra couldn't be dead. He refused to accept that, because what a cruel, sick fucking joke that fate would decide to give him a second chance at life, at freedom, yet tear the very thing that gave him hope for so long away from his fingertips to do so.

No, she was alive. She had to be.

The fear gripping at his chest was so tight it knocked the wind out of him, leaving him panting for breath when he stumbled out of the room. Under normal circumstances he would've been more cautious of his new surroundings, knowing that he could've been aboard a ship with dangerous people on it. Right now however, all that was leading him was the pit of dread in his stomach and the rawness in his throat that threatened to spill over if he didn't find her soon.

Everything was spiraling. He couldn't focus, couldn't breathe, could hear his own heartbeat racing and the throb of his head like a hammer slamming into his skull. It was hard to listen over the blood roaring in his ears, but he managed to hear it anyway—the faint sound of a voice chattering away, distinctly male.

Worry twisted into unbridled anger, blinding every other emotion as it ran through his veins like molten lava. Abhorrent scenarios popped into his head, fueling the fire burning inside him as he stormed in that direction, blood-coated boots thundering across the floor with only one thought in mind now.

He shouldn't have jumped to conclusions so fast, shouldn't have stomped in there like he was about to take someone's head clean off. Though, admittedly, that was the only plan he had at the time.

Once he spotted the head of blonde hair he bristled, alarm bells ringing loudly in his head at the sight of an unfamiliar face. Then she turned around, and all those thoughts vanished without a trace, relief flooding his body to the point he could've cried.

Except he didn't, too riled up from his own rage to calm down. Instead he directed his attention to the tall man beside her, who looked at him like he was actively staring down the barrel of a gun.

Simon wouldn't admit it, but he felt a sliver of satisfaction when Grace hit the floor. To him, it was deserved for making him wake up alone in a frenzy. There was also something else, an unpleasant tug in his chest from the scene of them leaning against one another, one he chose to shove down.

The anger had settled, though his mind remained a muddled mess, struggling to grasp how any of this was possible.

A long, heavy sigh left him as his eyes fell shut, his eyebrows pinching together. "I don't know." That was the best response he could give, unable to describe what he was feeling with anything else.

Astra nibbled on her bottom lip, gaze locked on their hands as she internally debated with herself. "Okay... Let's start with anything physical. How's your pain? Especially with your, uhm, lack of an arm?"

A huff of a laugh escaped him from her awkward phrasing. "I feel like shit, and it's... weird. It's like it's still there, but there's nothing." He mumbled, his left shoulder shifting as if his arm was moving beside him. "And it fucking hurts, too. It shouldn't when there's nothing there to even feel."

"Phantom limb pain. It's when the brain continues to process signals from the missing limb. The nervous systems connection is still there, even if the nerves aren't." Astra explained, giving a light, reassuring squeeze to his hand in her lap. "It might take a while for your body to adjust. Until then, you'll likely feel different sensations, as if your arm was never gone." There was a brief pause, then she added on. "Stress and fatigue can make it worse."

Simon scoffed at that last part, clearly not pleased with that extra tidbit of information. "I guess it's not going away anytime soon, then."

"Maybe if Rocky were here, he could've made you a cool new arm." She tried to lighten the mood, only to see his face scrunch up from her peripheral. She turned her head towards him with a raised eyebrow. "What's that face for?"

Simon tilted his head down, glancing at Astra then the sleeping body across the room from them, his jaw clenching. "You shouldn't believe what he says so easily."

Almost immediately she rolled her eyes. She should've known he'd be less willing to trust Grace, she knew from experience that he was a tough shell to crack. But she couldn't help the frustration from sinking in at his resistance.

To Simon, everyone was a potential threat until proven otherwise—years of isolation and cruel treatment from the C.O.I. guards likely had a hand in heightening that paranoia. She could understand his hesitation, that he'd need time to process and adapt, she did as well. But at the same time she found it a little ridiculous how doubtful he was being, especially when it came to who they were talking about.

Grace, out of all the people she's met in her life, was an embodiment of innocence. He was basically a golden retriever trapped in a human's body.

"You really think Grace is a threat? He freaked out at the mere sight of you." She pointed out, making a sound that was between a scoff and a laugh. At that, Simon's stern expression faltered and he glanced away with a huff—to her, a non-verbal surrender. "Thought so. Listen, we can discuss our situation when he wakes up if you need further convincing. For now, I think you need a warm shower to relax for a bit, and a change of clothes. Sound good?"

While he wasn't fully convinced, all it took was one look at the pleading smile on her lips and that hopeful gleam in her mismatched irises before he caved. He shoved those doubts into the back of his mind, a long, shaky breath leaving through his nose as he gave a careful squeeze to her palm.

"..Alright, sure." He murmured after a pause, not sounding too thrilled about it, but not outright rejecting the idea. He needed out of these disgusting clothes, anyway.

"Good! I can show you where the bathroom is, then try to figure out where the extra clothes are." While she spoke she stood up, using her grip on his hand to help him up with her. "Follow me."

She ended up doing those steps in the opposite order, due to an insistent Simon who refused to let go of her hand, as if she would disappear as soon as he did so. She didn't mind, going through the motions of finding the duffle bags with clothes, assuming the one she found was Grace's judging by the graphic t-shirts inside. Hopefully he wouldn't mind lending more clothes for Simon's sake, cause like herself his outfit was destroyed, save for the boots.

After that she took a minute to remember where the bathroom was, taking the lead while she dragged Simon by their interlocked hands. Once there she set the clothes inside and went to shuffle out of the small space, only for his grip to tighten.

Astra sent him a questioning look, to which his gaze fell away from her own. "Uh, where are you gonna be while I..?" His voice was uncharacteristically small, a subtle yet noticeable tremble to each word.

Her gaze softened, quickly picking up on what he was worried about. "I'll wait outside the door for you until you're finished, okay? I'll be right there if you need anything."

Hearing her say that was like a weight lifted off his shoulders, his body visibly relaxing at the thought of her being nearby. That's all the reassurance he needed. "Okay."

Before he slipped into the bathroom, he slid off his bracelet and handed to her, mumbling something about her, "Keeping it safe for him." She took it with utmost delicacy, cradling a precious part of him that he entrusted with her, her thumb gently rubbing over the glass pendant. There was a crack in it, breaking off into smaller fractures like roots growing from a tree—she'd have to see if Grace had anything to repair it with later.

Astra kept her promise, remaining seated across the bathroom door with her back propped against the wall. She closed her eyes, letting her mind wander off while listening to the sound of the water running.

By the time Simon was done cleaning up, she swore only ten minutes had passed. Unlike herself, who had spent about half an hour basking in the warmth of the water sprinkling on her bare skin, he didn't appear to find as much comfort from it.

Her mismatched eyes flickered over his form as he stepped outside, a smile twitching at the corners of her lips. On him was a black shirt that read, I had potential, with a depiction of a ball at the bottom of a curve. It was a little tight for his muscled figure, but it'd have to do.

Astra hopped up from her sitting position, a hand extended outwards with the bracelet hanging from it. "Feeling more relaxed now?" She asked, her smile widening as he gently grabbed the bracelet with a begrudging mumble of confirmation. "Good! Come with me so Armando can give you some more morphine for your pain. I'll redo your bandages."

Simon pulled a face, slowly falling into step with her as they trailed back to the room they woke up in. "That thing creeps me out."

She hummed, her face scrunching up in a way that showed she wasn't too enthusiastic about seeing the robot, either. "Me too, but I think it's the only thing on this ship that can admister any type of medication. Sooo..."

They tried to make it quick, allowing the cluster of robot arms to give him a shot of morphine before heading back to the lab area. When they arrived Grace was still out like a light, which she found a little worrisome, given he was reaching a time frame that could indicate a moderate brain injury. Though, she supposed his prolonged unconscious state could be due to his mentioned sleep deprivation, too.

She hoped it was more so the latter, but neither was life-threatening, so he should be fine. Hopefully he'd gain consciousness soon so she could check him over.

As they entered a small, bright green bag with various colors dotted on it caught her eye. She lit up, scooping up the bag half-full of those tiny, round candies and wordlessly holding them out towards Simon. In return, he fixed her with a squinted, quizzical stare.

"It's candy. Grace gave me them along with some noodles, but I'm not sure where the food is stored. So you can have these in the meantime." She offered with a shrug, figuring it was better than nothing while they waited.

Simon eyed the colorful bag, carefully plucking them out of her hand. For a moment he simply stared, observing the small candies inside while she ran off. In her rush to patch up Grace's head earlier, she had left the rest of the medical kit behind in the bathroom.

When she came back, she walked in right as Simon popped one in his mouth, the bag set aside on a table. His face twisted unpleasantly, the small candy getting spit out nearly the second after it hit his tongue.

"Ugh, those are awful! Why're they so acidic?" He complained, glaring down at the round, red candy on the floor as if it had personally offended him.

A burst of laughter escaped her, unable to contain her giggles even as her hand tried to muffle them. "You don't like them? I thought they were good, a nice combination of sour and sweetness."

His gaze shifted to her, expression entirely blank as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'd rather starve than eat that." He deadpanned.

She snorted and rolled her eyes at him. "You're dramatic. C'mere, let me bandage your arms back up. Did you have anything else that needed new stitching, disinfecting or bandaging?" She listed off, settling on the floor with the med-kit next to her.

He went to sit beside her with a grunt, the once simple action taking longer than usual due to his off-center balance. "No, don't think so. Everything else looked fine to me."

"Hm. I'll run a check up on you tomorrow to make sure you're telling the truth." Her voice was teasing, a smirk on her lips as she retrieved a roll of bandages, scissors and adhesive wrap.

Simon rose an eyebrow, his dark brown eyes narrowing on her. "You don't trust me?" He asked, pretending to be wounded by her implication.

She shook her head, her smile growing as she scooted closer to him with the supplies in hand. "After you lied in the submarine and had me using up nearly all the bandages on myself? No, not completely."

"Fair point." He hummed, though he didn't look apologetic about it in the slightest. Had he been faced with the option again, he still would've prioritized her well-being over himself.

After all, it was his fault she was stuck in that metal death trap with him in the first place. Keeping her safe despite their inevitable demise was the least he could do. He would've done anything for her if he had the power, anything to rid of the guilt eating him alive.

It was there even now, silently sitting in the pit of his stomach like a rock, in spite of their inexplicable second chance.

She deserved more.

Astra stayed silent after that, though a fraction of a smile remained while she got to work on bandaging his residual limb. With his remaining one, she had to apply some steroid cream, given the severe radiation burns along his forearm. She had a couple as well, though hers were more of a red, itchy patch on her skin, having had less exposure to the x-ray camera than himself. She warned him not to press it so much, but he didn't listen.

"That robot did a damn good job of fixing you up. I'm not sure I would've known how to do a surgical procedure like that." She remarked while putting the remaining supplies back into the medical kit.

Simon made a noise in objection, shifting around his left shoulder and wincing at the pain that shot across there—clearly the morphine hadn't kicked in yet. "Doesn't feel like it did a good job, fucking hurts like hell. Shouldn't the pain go away already?"

"You lost an entire limb, Simon. It's going to hurt for a while, even with medication. You can't be impatient when it comes to healing." Astra replied, a blank look on her face from his complaining. "Now, let me see the scrapes and bruises on your face. I'll put a little cream on those, too."

She was already dipping her fingers in the jar with her left hand, the other raising to cup along the bottom of his scruffy jaw. Except she paused, feeling a different texture beneath her fingers other than the rough patch of skin and the scratchy hairs of his beard. No, this was hard, smooth and sharp at the end—not an injury, but something else entirely.

With furrowed brows she turned her head upwards to scan over his face, only for her mismatched eyes to widen. Her lips parted, attempting and failing to verbalize what she was seeing, sputtering over the syllables in an incomprehensible manner.

Simon's brown eyes quickly scanned over her countenance, the combination of shock, horror and fascination sending mixed signals to his brain. "What? What's wrong? Why're you making that face?" The words left him in a rush, panic starting to creep in from her strange behavior.

Astra didn't speak right away, tilting his head to the side to get a better look. Despite the worry etched into his facial features, he was pliable to her touch, the only thing grounding him at that very moment. Her fingers slid upwards with delicacy, brushing away some locks of hair to view the newfound discovery.

After a minute passed she finally broke the tense silence, blinking rapidly and stumbling over her words. "Uhm, it's a– it's definitely something... Something I've never seen before from a medical standpoint." She squinted, leaning closer to confirm her own eyes weren't tricking her. "Are those... canine teeth..?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" He blurted out, taken aback by the words coming out of her mouth. Clumsy with nerves, he quickly raised a hand up to touch the area she had. The regret hit him the minute he did so. "What the fuck?! What the— There's no fucking way this is—"

Alarms were blaring in his head at the feeling beneath his fingertips, getting poked by the pointed edges of teeth that appeared to be growing out of his cheek. The inside of his mouth stayed normal, each tooth the same as he prodded at them with his tongue. That was a relief at the very least, but it didn't diminish his rising panic from whatever the fuck was happening on the outside of his face.

His hand was shoved away, so that both of her own could grab either side of his face and bring him closer. "Stay still! I need to examine your face more, cause I think..." She trailed off, making eye contact with him first, then shifting her attention towards the left side of his head. "Your left iris looks like it's shifting to red, and your ear appears to be growing... fin spines?"

Great. That extra examination didn't make him feel better in the slightest.

Simon grabbed her wrist, his grip tightening around there like a physical anchor to keep his mind from spiraling out of control. "So I'm turning into some fucking fish monster, or what?" He rushed out, struggling to keep his voice calm as it began to waver.

The expression Astra wore was uncertain, her arm lowering until her hand rested on his thigh, allowing him to keep his hold on her. Some form of realization was slowly settling in, her furrowed eyebrows raising, her squinted eyes widening and her pursed lips parting in a small 'o' shape.

"I– I don't know exactly, but it has to be some kind of mutation effect from the blood. Now that I think about it, my spine did feel a little bumpy when I was in the shower..." With her free hand she went to reach behind her, searching underneath the cardigan and shirt she wore until her mouth dropped open in disbelief. "Oh my god."

Once again his panic flared, his body jolting forward on instinct. "What is it? Let me see." His tone was hasty, his hand leaving her wrist to grab at her side and usher her around, not giving her a chance to explain.

She complied, sliding off the cardigan and tossing it aside as she turned around. Her auburn hair was swiped over one shoulder before she grabbed both sides of the shirt at the hem, lifting the fabric up until it was bunched around her chest.

There was pure silence, to where she could only hear her erratic heartbeat pounding in her eardrums. Her lungs were constricting, squeezing painfully in her chest as she waited with bated breath.

When the anxiety twisting in her stomach became too much to bare, she broke the silence, her voice a heavy whisper. "Am I– Are there... fins or anything growing along my back..?"

The quiet remained, accompanied by a gentle touch across her back. An involuntary breath left her, a shiver running down her spine as his warm, calloused palm trailed up, fingers tracing around the sensitive area of her back as if he were afraid to hurt her.

She could feel it, both from the way he skimmed around them and the new nerve-endings that connected her to them. It wasn't particularly troubling, at least not in the sense that it would affect her, but rather if it was going to keep growing. That's where her dread stemmed from, the idea that these mutations wouldn't stop until they became whatever attacked them in the blood ocean.

Now the apprehension was really getting to her. She was this close to throwing up her noodles from earlier.

Simon heard her scattered breathing, leading him to finally sputter out an answer that was as bewildered as she felt. "It, uh– it looks that way. Yeah..."

She spared a glance over her shoulder, her gaze meeting his own as it snapped upwards, the same concern reflected in both. His hand rested on the side of her lower back, a subconscious action that would've normally flustered her, had her brain not been in a frenzy over this horrifying revelation.

With a deep breath through her nose and out her mouth, she went to speak, except a low groan beat her to it.

Their attention snapped over to the source, seeing a disheveled and disoriented Grace rising from his pillow and blanket on the floor. His hair was a mess and the glasses on his face were askew, not bothering to fix either as his dazed eyes searched around the lab in confusion.

"Wha– What's going on? God, my head hurts..." Another groan left him, his hand raising to soothe the throbbing ache at the back of his skull.

It took him a solid minute to focus, for his blurry gaze to register the sight that was before him after he lazily adjusted the glasses to rest on the bridge of his nose. He blinked, blue eyes flickering back and forth between the two who looked like deers caught in headlights.

Then his eyes trailed lower, noticing the fox cardigan had been discarded. Astra's hands were lifting the fabric of her shirt halfway up her body to reveal the pale, freckled skin of her back, stomach and a sliver of her chest from below. All while Simon's hand rested dangerously low along her back, his own figure now adorned with a graphic t-shirt of his that hugged his muscled form a little too tightly.

For a minute Grace simply stared, blinking a couple of times until his eyes and brain finally caught up on what he was seeing. Two people he just met – very attractive ones, at that – sitting a few feet away, looking like they were about to—

Oh.

Oh.

His face exploded in red, every ounce of blood in his body either rushing up there or lower, despite how loudly his own mind was screaming at himself.

His hands fumbled to cover his face, uncaring to the glasses he knocked off as he was more concerned with shielding his eyes. "I– I'm sorry! Am I interrupting something? I mean, obviously I am, god— I'm so sorry, I wasn't expecting you two to, well, y'know—"

"We're mutating."

Oh, okay. So not the other thing. That's good, then he didn't end up—

Wait a minute. What did she say?

Grace peeked at her from behind his fingers, able to feel the heat radiating off of his own face. He did a double-take, eyes flickering to the exposed section of her skin to see what she meant, having missed it in his own daze. There was definitely something poking out from her spine, similar to tiny dorsal fins.

He watched Astra shove her shirt back down, much to his relief and disappointment—that other part of himself needed to shut up before he melted into a shameful puddle.

"There's canine teeth growing out of Simon's cheek, his eye is turning red, and his ear has fin spines. My back also seems to be growing fins, right along the spine." Astra hurriedly explained, her fingers fidgeting in her lap as she glanced back and forth between the two men. "It's likely some kind of mutation from the blood ocean, but I'm not sure to what extent it'll go to."

Slowly his hands fell away from his face, the heat from earlier persisting as a red dusting across his cheeks. He pushed himself into a proper sitting position, ignoring the dull ache of his head as he reached to grab his fallen glasses and put them back on.

"I mean, the best we can do is monitor your symptoms. It could be spreading through your bloodstream and altering the DNA sequence of the blood cells as they multiply and cause more genetic mutations." He stated as a possibility, only to backpedal when he was met with two distinct expressions—a knowing grimace and a dissatisfied scowl. "Or– or there's a possibility it only affected certain parts of your body by inserting a nucleotide that wasn't there before, and that's all it got to do before you magically poofed into existence here, and the remaining mutated cells... Poof, dissappeared after that?"

That didn't sound logical in the slightest, but then again, nothing about this situation was. Two people from a separate dimension, transported to this one – on the Hail Mary that was light-years from Earth, no less – after almost dying to the depths of an ocean made of blood and some horrifying, mutated monster that wanted to devour them.

Maybe it was okay if his rationale was flawed in that regard, even more so when Astra's troubled expression eased back to normal at the sliver of hope it provided. As for Simon, he couldn't really tell if he was relieved or not with his consistently gloomy demeanor.

Grace scratched at the back of his neck, a nervous habit driven by the dark stare that was burning a hole into his head. "Just throwing out ideas here. I'm not exactly familiar with how an ocean of blood mutates people, or any mutations of this sort, for that matter."

Astra was quick chime in, seeing as Grace's inhibition was worsening under the weight of Simon's relentless glower. If she hadn't felt bad for his current well-being, she would've smacked him on the back of the head.

"We'll do that. We can keep observing for any progression or changes, and hopefully it ends up being the latter." She decided with a nod, before her eyebrows pinched together in thought. "We never studied any mutations from the blood ocean at the C.O.I., or at least we never recorded any external alterations to the body. Only internal, which was, uhm..." She didn't finish her sentence, though the wince she gave spoke volumes.

Even without the knowledge of how these new mutations worked, the overwhelming reminder of those researchers from the SM-8 and what happened to them was plenty reason for her to feel perturbed about it. The single failed experiment they had at the C.O.I. that first labeled the substance of the blood ocean as dangerous didn't help ease her nerves much, either.

For now, she tried not to think about it. There was no use in losing her mind over something she had no control over.

She shook her head, directing her attention back to Grace with a ghost of a smile. "Nevermind, it's not important. I'm just glad to know that brain of yours is still working. Had me worried with how long you were out." Her tone had a teasing lift to it, conflicting with the concerned glint in her gaze as she scanned him over.

The blonde's eyebrows rose, having completely glossed over the event that caused his splitting headache. In the chaos of it all, waking up to that scene and then the unexpected reveal of their mutations, he hadn't had enough time to remember what occurred, only that his head was bandaged from it.

Now that he did have time to recall what lead to his injury – specifically the person who caused it – he was unable to look in either of their direction.

"Right, that. Yeah, I'm fine. I feel fine, at least. My head hurts, but my brain is still working, so I think I'll survive." He stumbled over the words, suddenly hyper-aware of Simon's presence—that haunting image would be forever etched into his memory.

An amused breath left her, her next words playful. "Well, your cognitive function appears to be fine. Doesn't seem to have changed from how it normally is." Then her eyes scanned over Grace's tense, fidgety form, now flickering towards Simon with an expectant look. "I think an apology is in order for that little mishap."

At first Simon didn't register it, lost in his own thoughts until she gave a light smack to his chest. Those dark brown eyes snapped to her, his eyebrows scrunched together and lip curled in confusion, until she gestured towards Grace with her head.

He rolled his eyes, yet nonetheless complied to her wishes, the words rolling off his tongue in a lazy, indifferent manner. "Right. Sorry you hit your head. But you didn't die, so I don't see why it's a big deal."

The auburn-haired woman blinked at his apology, if it could even be called that. Slowly she turned towards Grace, who stared back at her with an expression that practically screamed, 'Oh my god my life is danger.'

She feared it was going to take a while for Simon to adjust to Grace's presence, given his history with... well, people in general. He's always been closed off, even before the incident at Filament Station. Given how long it took him to warm up to her, this might turn out to be a long trip.

"That... We'll work on that." She sighed, too frazzled at this point to even correct him. "How are you feeling, Grace? Your cognition doesn't appear to be affected, but is there anything else? Headaches or lightheadedness? Blurry or doubled vision?"

Grace swallowed, his mouth feeling abnormally dry. He wasn't sure whether to blame it on a lack of hydration or the uncomfortable awareness of Simon's hard stare, like he was scrutinizing every move he made.

"Yes to the headache, no to the other stuff. I don't think I hit my head that hard... Did I?" The question was mumbled to himself, his hand skimming over the bandages around his forehead.

Another head injury to add onto, given he smacked his forehead on the pilot console when the fuel tanks were leaking, and he got hit by metal debris when retrieving the samples from Adrian before that. So that's three head related injuries total. At this point he was lucky if he didn't sustain any lasting trauma to his brain.

Astra hummed in acknowledgment while reaching over to grab the cardigan she discarded. "I'd say it wasn't enough to cause any major trauma. But I'd take it easy for while, and let me know if the headache worsens or if you experience any other symptoms."

He watched as she shrugged the material back on, covering up the bandages that were layered across her arms. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips and his eyes squinted. "Will do, Doc." The nickname slipped off his tongue, playful yet fond.

She waved him off with a huff, trying and failing to hide the redness that dusted across her freckled complexion as she mumbled under her breath. His smile split into a humored grin, one that faltered just as quick as it came when he made the mistake of glancing towards the other person in the room.

The lax posture of his body vanished, every muscle tensing up when he met the narrowed eyes of the dark-haired man, one iris a dark brown, the other being steadily taken over by crimson.

Grace figured it was the combination of his height and being covered in blood that made him intimidating. But no, he was still very much terrifying from where he sat on the floor, staring him down like he was waiting for him to make one wrong move to justify his cynicism.

He cleared his throat, struggling and failing to maintain eye contact as the man's gaze bored into his. "I don't think I, uh– We never got properly introduced to one another. Your name is Simon, right? I'm Grace. Or Ryland, actually, but most people call me Grace."

The silence that followed was suffocating, his blue eyes frantically darting towards Astra for assistance, only to be met with complete defeat as she gave a helpless shrug of her shoulders.

This was going well. A socially awkward scientist that rambled a lot, compared to a brooding – whatever he was – that barely spoke a word and looked perpetually annoyed by every syllable that left his mouth.

Yeah, he was sure they'd get along just fine.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of an uneasy stare-off, Simon spoke, the deep rumble of his voice completely aloof. "I know, she told me already."

Not exactly the response Grace was hoping for. "Oh, right. I guess I should've assumed you two talked while I was knocked out." He chuckled, the sound forced as he dragged a hand through his hair.

The tension was painful, and Astra could see that Grace was becoming increasingly stressed the longer Simon pinned him with his accusatory stare. She knew why he was reacting the way he was, but she was adamant on proving Grace's pure intentions.

"Simon was hoping you could provide more information on how you ended up here." She broke the silence, almost laughing at how Grace's taut form visibly sagged at her intervention. "I'm a little curious myself. You didn't delve into that part much, aside from being sent involuntarily."

For the first time Simon's hardened stare faltered at that last word, almost forgetting that key detail in its entirety. Slowly his countenance shifted, not quite erasing the wariness there, but adding a new layer of understanding he hadn't factored in before.

The blonde was more than willing to dive into a new topic, anything to rid of the previous awkwardness. "I mean, I don't think there's much to tell. As I mentioned before, there was an explosion from the astrophage lab that killed two of the astronauts chosen to board the Hail Mary. I'm still not sure how the incident happened, since there shouldn't have been enough astrophage to cause such a massive explosion."

His face scrunched up before his hand waved off the thought. "Whatever the reason, it left them with two astronauts instead of four, the captain and the, uh, I think she was the materials specialist? Either way, they didn't have someone on board that'd know how astrophage worked, thus came the last minute and highly unwilling solution: Me!" He grinned and made little jazz hands in the air for emphasis, earning a humored noise from Astra and a raised eyebrow from Simon.

"So they sent you against your will, to your death, just because you were the only scientist they had that studied this astrophage stuff?" Simon shortened for clarity, his tone incredulous.

"Yes, but I'm not a scientist." They both shot Grace a puzzled look at that statement. He nervously scratched at the back of his neck, the smile he wore turning sheepish. "I have a PhD in molecular biology, but I'm just a middle school science teacher. I only got dragged into this position due to a stupid paper I wrote during my academic years."

He could see the intrigue on Astra's face, to which he was quick to interject before she could ask the question he dreaded answering. "Please don't ask about it. I'd rather not get into it, it's– it's embarrassing."

Her mouth closed, blinking in surprise until a sliver of mirth slipped into her smile. "Alright, I won't ask. But that must've been some paper to land a teacher of all things in the middle of space." She jested, biting back a laugh at the red hue that started to form at the tip of his ears.

He ran a hand over his flushed face, adjusting his crooked glasses in the process. "All you need to know is that paper was a mistake. For more reasons than one." He jokingly mumbled while gesturing around them. "Though, I can't say this mission has been all bad. I met Rocky, and now you guys! Which is a scientific mystery in itself that I don't think will ever be solved."

The auburn-haired woman shrugged her shoulders with a grin. "Now you have new people to keep you company on the way back to Earth, so you don't die of loneliness."

"Not like we had much of a choice on where we went." Simon grumbled, his bitterness returning, though not directed at anyone in particular—a certain scientist was grateful for that.

Astra could see where it was stemming from, knowing that getting shot back into the vastness of space wasn't the most ideal scenario. At least not in comparison to the latter, where they would've been back on a planet that ensured their safety. However, they were alive, and that's all that mattered to her for now.

"No, but I'd say this is better than where we were, and we have a second opportunity to go home. A home that didn't exist anymore." She pointed out with a sigh, her patience wearing a little thin by his demeanor.

Grace glanced between the two, picking up on the rising tension and deciding to, stupidly, slice through it. Sometimes he wished he'd keep his mouth shut, but his ever inquisitive brain always had other plans.

"What did you do, Simon?" The minute the vague question left his mouth, he cringed, shrinking into himself at the puzzled stare he received from said person. "What I mean is, I imagine you also had some kind of role at this, uh, Eden Station? I figured since Astra mentioned being a doctor and scientist, that you had a job as well? Or maybe not? I don't know—"

Amidst his uncertain rambling, Astra and Simon shared a look, an unspoken agreement between the two—don't mention any parts that involved his role as The Butcher and the conviction that followed. With how antsy Grace was around him, that new information would send him over the edge.

"I was an engineer." Simon answered instead, interrupting the blonde who was stumbling over his words. It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't the main role he took on at Eden. "Was in charge of maintaining the stations life systems and technical equipment, repairing the ships engines, stuff like that."

A woman who was a doctor and scientist, and a man that was an engineer. Not only did he have people to join him on his journey home, but they were both intelligent in the two fields he lacked in.

Would've been nice if they appeared before all the choas that erupted, would've saved him, and Rocky, a major breakdown and multiple injuries. But at least he had them now for future instances.

Grace found himself relaxing a little more, for once getting a response that didn't sound hostile. "We could've used your help if you had arrived earlier. Two of the fuel tanks started leaking and it took Rocky and I a while to make the new ones. Rocky did most of it, actually." He admitted with an embarrassed laugh. "They're working fine, but Rocky isn't here to maintain them. I'm a little clueless about it, so I try not to mess with them if I can help it."

Simon hummed, scratching at his beard as he stared off in thought. "I can take over maintenance for it. I'll make sure you and... Rocky didn't fuck it up to where it might leak again." He muttered with a side-glance, a clear hesitation when it came to mentioning the supposed alien that traveled with him.

"Yeah, that's probably for the best." The blonde agreed nervously, averting his gaze elsewhere.

Seeing as their conversation was dwindling, Astra perked up as her attention snapped towards Simon. "You were also a gardener, weren't you? Took care of the Last Tree and the plants around it." She mentioned with an endeared smile.

She remembered the times Simon would talk so fondly about it, the only piece of Eden he could look back on without regret. They had a ritual, with the leaves and their bracelets, as well as a routine to maintain the tree and the surrounding garden. Aside from the gruesome reality of what fed the soil of the plant life, Simon told her it always felt peaceful in there, a literal breath of fresh air that brought life back into his soul.

It was a physical reminder of why he was still fighting to survive in a world of infinite darkness with no future in sight. If a tree could bloom in the emptiness of space, could live despite all odds being against it, then so could he.

And he had a damn good reason to, the minute a head of auburn hair popped into that cell window, before unceremoniously smacking her nose against the bars. The memory almost made him laugh, that signature bandage on her nose even now.

It made him all the more thankful for this second chance, even if it wasn't the most optimal setting. At least they were alive—she was alive.

Simon fiddled with the bracelet around his wrist, resting it in the palm of his hand. "It was more of a obligation that everyone on Eden had to partake in." He corrected, yet there was a softness when he spoke, a familiarity that made his chest ache. "I didn't get to do it often, but yeah, I enjoyed it. Gave me some peace of mind."

It was like a light bulb went off in Grace's head the second he mentioned it, an idea that would – hopefully – lead to a little less hostility between the two.

"There's a greenhouse room on the Hail Mary! It was meant to grow food for the crew once supplies ran out, but since it's only been me, I have a good amount left." He spoke with growing excitement, already pushing himself upwards to stand on his feet. "I haven't touched it much. I usually let Armando tend to them since I was afraid I'd accidentally kill them."

Once he was up he swayed a bit, the sudden rush making his head spin. Astra was quick to dart upwards, her hands grabbing at his arms to stabilize him before he could fall. All he could offer was a flustered, apologetic smile when she sent him a warning stare.

Simon stood up behind her with some difficulty, the blonde directing his gaze back to him with a grin. "Here, I can show you! It's apart of the lab, just in its own little section." Without waiting he began to stumble in that direction, a mildly distressed Astra trailing at his side as she held onto his arm to keep him stable.

Grace opened the door to the room, Astra following him inside while Simon stepped in last. Thankfully there was a chair in the corner, to which she fussed to get him to sit down, not willing to take any risks. The scientist obliged, a pink hue on his pale complexion from her worry.

Meanwhile Simon took in the scenery around them, so simple yet enough to fill him with a serenity he had yet to feel in years.

One end was a window, showing the dark expanse of space outside tinged with hues of blue and purple, while millions of stars sparkled throughout it. There were rows of shelves and trays, all filled with various sized potted plants, vibrant green stems and leaves sprouting from each one into different lengths. Overhead were rows of light, emitting a heat and brightness he could only assume was meant to simulate the sun.

Some supplies were scattered around—a watering can, a miniature metal shovel, gloves, pruners, a gardening fork, bags of seeds and fertilizer, and more. There was a blue water drum in the corner, connected to a pipe towards the ceiling, while a small hose lead out of it.

Not a word left him, his feet moving on their own as he went to inspect the little plants individually, with the awe of a child discovering something new for the first time. Unknowingly a smile twitched on his lips, subtle yet filled with warmth.

Astra and Grace watched as he examined the room, each with their own little smile. Hers shifted to a smirk, bumping her hip against his bicep from where he sat and quietly laughing at the way his body jolted from the contact.

"You should've lead with this if you wanted him to warm up to you."

"That would've been nice to know before I ended up with another concussion."

Side note! I've read up on it to see, cause I remember seeing plants shown in the movie but a lot of people seem to think it's decorative for morale, or that Armando tended to the plants while Grace was in a coma. But then it was also mentioned that the conditions in the ship wouldn't allow for them to grow, sooooo I'm going to change things a bit

On the Hail Mary they have their own little room instead of just being in the lab, where they can get oxygen, CO2, synthetic sunlight, proper space to grow, all that fun jazz. It's going to be a growable food source cause now that there's three of them on board, it'll be a necessity

"Eye movement detected."

A robotic voice chimed from above, the once sleeping figure of a woman stirring from the disturbance. At first she didn't move, eyes squeezed shut and eyebrows pinched inwards, her brain slowly but surely rousing from its drowsy state.

The first sensation that came flooding back was pain, sharp and aching along every part of her body, paired with a headache that was the equivalent of a hammer bashing through her skull. With a groan Astra began to roll to the left, a futile attempt to shield herself away, only for her stomach to drop when the soft padding was no longer beneath her.

"Patient has fallen."

At the sound of that voice again – one she finally realized was automated – she could only groan, disoriented and wounded. Something ripped off her face and arm when she had fallen, and she briefly felt a trickle of blood traveling down the length of her arm.

Actually, there was a warm, sticky substance all over her. It felt damp against any exposed parts of her pale, freckled skin, tears through her clothes that she couldn't fathom how they got there. Whatever was coating her from head to toe, it was light and drying, as if someone had tried to haphazardly clean off what they could.

Her brain felt sluggish, unable to process what was happening fast enough—side effects from a type of opioid, she assumed. Instead she attempted to focus on one thing at a time until it jogged her memory.

"Patient is in stable condition. What is your name?"

She sure as hell didn't feel stable, but she did know her name. That was a good sign, she supposed.

What was that robotic voice, anyway? Since when did the C.O.I. have a machine meant to help treat and observe patients? She'd be pissed if they had this the whole time while making her their primary medical provider. Would've made her life a lot easier, and given her more time to seclude herself inside the lab.

But that didn't make sense. Now that she thought harder on it – god her head was killing her – she hadn't been at the station at all. Glimpses of the submarine flashed through her mind, along with a familiar blonde woman that had the left side of her face deformed, eye a ghostly blank tint compared to the striking blue of the right.

Ava, that was her name. The captain leading the next mission to send down the SM-13 submarine—aka the Iron Lung. Astra remembered now, being sealed inside that hunk of metal, left to face the horrors lying in wait in the dark depths of the blood ocean on the AT-5 moon.

The memories were flooding back now, her chest rising and falling quicker than usual as a hurricane of conflicting emotions raged inside of her. So vividly she recalled the hull being torn apart, the metal creaking, bending and snapping from rows of teeth, all while her screams were drowned out by the rush of thick, hot blood consuming her body whole.

Astra knew that's what happened, had come to the horrifying reality that was her inevitable death. It was real, it happened, she knew it did. That's what her body was still coated in, drying blood.

If that's the case, then how was she still alive? How was she here? Wherever here even was...

Where was she?

For the first time Astra pried her eyes open, wide, mismatched irises darting around the unfamiliar space. Immediately her brows furrowed together, confusion deeply etched into her features.

It was a ship, that much she could tell, but it was unlike any of the ones she had been on. There were multiple cloths piled in the corner, stained with a crimson hue—likely used by someone to wipe the blood off her. Then she spotted a glass-like structure propped against the wall, which she had no clue what that was for. A dome of sorts?

Eventually her eyes shifted up, landing on the robotic arm that hovered above her. The arm's hand shifted around her space, as if it were looking at her through the camera in the center, observing every miniscule detail of her stress that was rising by the second.

On instinct she tried to scramble away from the foreign technology, only to let out a loud hiss between her teeth when her side flared up at the movement. Her elbow braced against the ground to keep her head from smacking into it, eyes squeezed shut as short, shallow breaths slipped out of her lungs in painful wheezes.

None of this was making sense, yet a part of her wanted to ignore the millions of questions, to let her pounding head rest and ease away the pain coursing through her nervous system. Unfortunately, the anxiety pumping through her veins right now wouldn't allow her a single second of peace.

Nor would this damn robotic arm that kept getting even closer to her business.

"Heart rate is elevated. Would you like me to administer a dose of—"

Before the automated voice could finish, the sound of bounding footsteps nearby halted its inquiry. Not long after a voice rang out from above, deep and riddled with exhaustion, as if he had just woken up from the noise. A man began to descend the ladder from her peripheral, vibrant orange fabric entering her view.

He was speaking, not sparing a glance in their direction to avoid tumbling down the ladder in his sleep-deprived state. "Armando, what is all the commotion? I'm trying to get some sle—" Once he neared the bottom of the ladder he shifted his gaze over, only to freeze up when his eyes connected with wild, mismatched ones. "Oh."

For a minute it was an awkward stare off between the two. Light-green and hazel-brown clashed with striking blue, the prior dazed and fear stricken while she held her breath, and the latter purely stunned, unable to believe what he was seeing. He stared at her like she was otherworldly, something he couldn't fathom was currently awake and looking right back at him.

That expression melted away into relief, finally processing the situation after the initial shock wore off. A hint of urgency seeped into his movements while he struggled to get down the last section of the ladder.

"Oh my god, you're awake! You're actually– Uh, hold on, let me just get down this—" The man rushed down the last few rungs rather ungracefully, nearly tripping and falling to the floor in the process.

He stumbled his way over to her eventually, with Astra watching the entire scene in perplexed silence. At least she didn't have to fret over the possibility of enduring more bodily harm from a captor. The blonde in front of her looked anything but hostile or intimidating, instead appearing to be a little out of breath after getting his shoe stuck between the ladder rungs.

The man, now a few feet away from her, was tall with a well-defined build. He was clothed in a tight, navy-blue science pun t-shirt – I wear this shirt periodically, with a periodic table – the bottom half of an orange suit with the sleeves tied around his waist, and white, scuffed shoes that were partially unlaced. His dirty blonde hair was short and messy, sticking out in every direction – bed head – while the sides connected to the short beard along his face. Along with that he wore a pair of gold, thin-rimmed glasses, hanging loosely from one ear and ready to fall off his face at any moment.

He shifted on his feet, bursting with a nervous yet warm energy that reflected in the hint of a smile he wore. His demeanor made him appear giddy, like he was eager to finally talk to her, yet apprehensive all the same. He stood a reasonable distance, to the point she realized he was taking precautions from her, like she might potentially attack him rather than vice versa.

So yeah, definitely not a threat.

"You're awake– I mean, this is great! I'm glad you're finally awake." He was caught up on that fact, unable or unwilling to believe it. Then he paused, eyebrows furrowed in worry as he eyed her hunched over posture. "Are you in a lot of pain still? Armando can give you another small dose of morphine now, I think."

"Affirmative, Dr. Grace." The robot responded in time, already preparing said dosage to administer to her.

Astra watched the machine warily, before glancing back towards him when the needle breached her skin. "Armando? That's its name or..?" She trailed off, more than lost on everything happening at this very moment—one small thing at a time, lest her head would explode.

He shrugged a shoulder, looking slightly embarrassed as he glanced away. "Yeah, I decided to give it one. It was just me on the ship and the robot, so I figured—" He abruptly cleared his throat, cutting himself off in an attempt to redirect the conversation. "But not anymore, evidently. What's your name? Do you remember your name?"

The second question puzzled her, especially the genuine concern he expressed with it, as if it were an experience he'd lived through and now awaited her to admit the same.

"It's Astra." She mumbled, leaning her head back for some semblance of relief. God, this headache was going to turn her brain into mush.

He blinked at her. "Astra..?" He waited, only to be met with a strange, hesitant stare in return, to which he nodded despite the confusion etched into his face. "Oh, that's it. No last name. Okay, cool. A little weird that you don't have one, but no judgment here."

From what she could tell so far, this guy rambled a lot. Usually she would've found said trait endearing, along with all his other socially awkward yet charming mannerisms, but right now she was struggling to wrap her head around this situation. Her entire body still hurt like hell, too—hopefully the morphine would kick in fast.

Astra couldn't bother to keep her head up, letting it rest fully against the wall. "You're, uhm... Dr. Grace?" She assumed, recalling what the robot referred to him as.

"Ryland Grace. You can just call me Ryland, or Grace. Either one is fine." He offered instead, a warm smile lighting up his face. Cautiously he took a step forward, like approaching a wild deer ready to sprint off. "Is it okay if I help you up? The floor doesn't look too comfortable."

"Please." She agreed without hesitation, her current position not helping her injuries in the slightest.

With quick yet careful movements he lifted her up like she weighed nothing, setting her on top of the soft padding she fell off of earlier. Once he ensured she was steady he stepped away, leaving a respectable distance between them—not too close to make her uncomfortable, yet enough to be of help were she to sway.

It was silent for a minute, with Grace internally struggling on how to start his next sentence without stressing her further. "I'm sure you have a lot of questions. I can try to answer them, if you answer one of mine first. Cause, well— Uh, I'm not exactly sure how either of you ended up here."

Her eyebrows scrunched up, regarding him with a puzzled stare for the umpteenth time. "'Either of you'?" She repeated that part slowly, having no clue who else he could be referring to. "What are you talking about?"

The worry from earlier returned, his lips pursing into a small, hesitant frown. "Uhm, your friend over there? I'm assuming you were together, since you were in the same heap of, uh, blood on the floor when I found you both. Am I wrong or do you– do you not remember?" He grew fidgety, blue eyes flickering between herself and something behind her.

Astra squinted, reluctantly turning her head in the direction he was glancing at. In the bed behind her laid the body of a man coated in blood – she imagined she looked the same – while attached to a oxygen mask and IV similar to when she had woken up. Although, he looked much worse for wear compared to herself—the crimson bandages around the remaining stump of his left arm said that much.

For a minute her brain ran a blank, mismatched eyes roving over his features in hopes to jog something, anything. Medium length, dark, wavy locks sprawled around his head, dark stubble around his jaw, and glimpses of tan skin beneath smeared blood, likely paler than usual due to his current state. Then her eyes trailed down along his ripped clothes, landing on a bracelet clutched between his fingers—a leaf pendent, one he cherished deeply.

The wave of memories that slammed into her made her feel physically nauseous.

Simon.

How could she have forgotten about him being with her? How did her brain skip such a crucial detail? And god, he looked awful. His arm, his entire fucking arm was gone.

Without thinking she scrambled across the bedding towards him, ignoring the sharp aches and pains that followed. All that mattered was getting to him, that she confirmed he was alive despite seeing his chest rise and fall unsteadily. She needed to feel his pulse beneath her fingers, feel the thrum of his heart in his chest.

Unfortunately, a pair of arms was quick to reel her back before she could go crashing to the ground. "Whoa! Hey, what're you doing? Don't do that–!" Grace's panic fell on deaf ears, the woman continuing to thrash in his hold to get free. "You're going to hurt yourself!"

"I need to see him! I need to make sure he's okay! Let go—!" She tried to pry herself out of his grip, but her weakened state did little against his strong hold. It was irritational, she knew that deep down, but in her frenzy she couldn't find it in herself to care about anything else but him. "Simon! Simon, get up!"

With some difficulty he managed to pull her back enough to where he wasn't actively preventing her from falling off the bed. "Astra! Just listen to me, please!" He pleaded with her, her struggle dying down the longer she drained her energy.

Eventually she stopped fighting entirely, to which a relieved breath escaped him. It was quiet, nothing but their panted breaths filling the room while both recovered from the scuffle. He didn't release her out of fear of her making another attempt, the trembling underneath his fingers a telltale sign.

Then a quiet noise met his ears, a stuttered breath that devolved into a pitiful whimper, each barely restrained. The shaking of her body worsened, her shoulders tensed up in a poor attempt to stop them from moving.

Oh. She was crying.

Oh no.

Grace's gaze softened, a mixture of sympathy and remorse swirling in them. He hadn't meant to cause her further distress, and he knew the sinking feeling a little too well—that heavy rock of dread that settled into one's gut upon realizing the other person wasn't going to wake up.

He knew that, except that wasn't the case in this scenario, and now he felt personally responsible for making her spiral. Truthfully he wasn't the greatest at comforting people, let alone a stranger, but the guilt was eating him alive and it hadn't even been a minute.

He sighed, his grip loosening to hover at her sides. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—" What? Manhandle her? He winced, realizing an apology was only going to make it more awkward. Nope, not good. He needed a new approach. "Can you look at me? Please."

It took a moment for Astra to tear her gaze away from Simon's sleeping form, fearful the second she did so, that would change. She couldn't bear the thought of losing him, yet as her watery gaze connected with Grace's, filled to the brim with compassion despite the uncertainty there, that tight knot in her chest loosened enough to let her breathe.

"He's resting right now. Armando took care of his injuries, now his body has to work on the rest." He reassured her, his deep voice impossibly gentle, as if she would break from anything louder. The touch on her sides raised up, resting lightly on her shoulders. "He'll be okay, I promise. If you want to check for yourself, I can walk you over to him."

New tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, for an entirely different reason this time. "Y–yes, please..."

Grace helped her down from the bed, letting her wrap an arm around his waist to keep herself stable. He carefully walked them over to where Simon laid, far slower than was truly necessary, but she didn't comment on it.

Once close enough she reached out with her free hand, watching as her own quivering fingers brushed away some dark hair from his face. Up close she could see the puffs of air through the clear mask, along with the peaceful expression resting underneath it—no terror, no panic, no anger, no worry. Absolutely nothing, completely detached from the horrific events that somehow lead them here.

Her palm drifted downwards, until her fingertips brush along the torn fabric covering his chest. It rested there, feeling for the heartbeat that lay beneath. It was faint, but still pumping in time with her own.

Grace held onto her the entire time, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against her side. "See? He'll be fine. He just needs a long nap, and then he'll be back in business." He sounded reminiscent, like the words falling from his mouth were from his own experience.

Astra let her hand slip away, yet her mismatched irises didn't leave Simon's face for a second. "He'll be fine." She mumbled, trying to reassure herself. Then she sighed, rubbing under her eyes to rid of the wet streaks there. "I'm sorry about all that. I don't know what came over me."

"You were worried for your friend. There's nothing wrong with that." Grace shrugged it off, merely relieved he was able to calm her down from her frenzy. "Except now Armando will have to check you over to make sure you didn't open any stitches. So, you did that to yourself."

There was a teasing lift to his tone, one she released a breath of a laugh at—the action hurt her chest a bit. "Yeah, yeah. Can I wash all this blood off before that? I'd rather not get an infection."

"Right, that's a good idea. Should probably do that first." Grace agreed with a nervous chuckle, accidentally overlooking her blood-soaked state admist the chaos. "You wait here for a second, and I'll get everything ready for you. Armando can keep you company."

As he set her back on the empty bed, she spared a glance towards said robot. It waved a bit then moved its fingers, confirming what he said.

A smile cracked on her lips, shaking her head as she turned back around to see the blonde shuffling towards the ladder. She watched from where she sat, nothing but gratitude in her expression. "Thank you, Grace."

He halted, near the top of the ladder when he went to peer down at her from above. "Oh, it's, uh– it's no problem, really." He mumbled, a noticeable redness rising to his cheeks as he went to rush up the last few rungs, only to hit his head against the ceiling. "Ow, that's my head. Need to look where I'm going."

A laugh escaped once he was out of sight, simultaneously amused and endeared. Grace seemed like a good person so far, sweet and charming, albeit in a clumsy way. Nonetheless, she was appreciative it had been someone like him to save and care for herself and Simon.

Now she had to figure out how the hell they even ended up here when she was one-hundred percent positive they should've been dead.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

A warm shower was a much needed refresher. Blood and grime tainted the water at her feet, swirling down the drain over and over again until the water trickling down her body turned clear. While it felt heavenly, she remained mindful of the fact she shouldn't use up too much water, and stepped out once she deemed herself properly cleaned.

Grace had provided some clothes for her, clearly doing a once over of her current outfit and deciding, "Yeah, there's no salvaging that. There's some extra clothes I have that you can wear, or some left behind from the– the, uh, other crew." She decided not to question the noticeable waver in his voice from that last part.

Looking in a mirror now, she hadn't realized how awful she looked. Crimson wounds littered random parts of her body – Grace was right about the stitches coming undone – along with dark, purple bruises blooming along her pale, freckled skin. Her face sustained a few cuts and scratches, paired with the usual one across her nose.

Astra fished around in the medical kit she took after some convincing. She insisted it would be easier if she stitched up the wounds on her own, that she had experience doing so many times before, both on herself and other patients.

Truthfully, she wasn't too enthusiastic about the idea of letting a robotic arm do it for her, regardless of her fascination. That, and she needed a second alone, to breathe and process everything that's happened—she kept that part to herself.

Grace didn't question her reasoning, caving into her request rather easily. Though he was staring at her differently, something indecipherable in his tone when he blurted out, "You're a doctor, then?"

No, she wasn't. At least she didn't feel like she was a proper one, given the circumstances of her role, which was why she shut that down with a flush rising to her cheeks. He didn't push the topic further, nor did he look convinced by her modesty.

She had to take the supplies and clothes then rush away when he kept staring at her strangely—she didn't know how to describe it, like he was analyzing her in a way he hadn't before. Whatever it was, it was had her face burning up and she decided to flee.

It was an unpleasant process, a needle poking through her skin over and over again never a sensation she could get used to. Regardless her fingers moved with familiar precision, until the pressure of the needle turned dull and the skin around her open gashes were sealed shut.

After that she worked on shuffling into the clothes that were provided for her. There was a pair of loose fitted cargo pants – she had to tighten the belt straps quite a bit – along with another science pun t-shirt that said Ah! The Element of Surprise. Her boots were returned, now clear of all blood, and on top of it all she was given a cardigan that had animals woven along the front and back.

Squinting at the patterns, she tried to recall what kind of animal it was. It was difficult to remember with the limited data she had at the C.O.I., especially when her studies revolved around the ocean. After some thought, a specific depiction came to mind she'd seen before with similar colors—a fox, she finally concluded.

It was cute, and thoughtful since it was a little too cold for her in the ship, at least while her body was recovering.

Before she left the bathroom, she dried her auburn locks as best as she could, the messy curls dripping with water. Upon stepping out she glanced around, trying to remember which direction to head in. Grace mentioned he'd be in the lab, if only she could recall where he said that would be at.

It didn't take her too long to find it, seeing as she could hear him rustling around and mumbling to himself over the consistent hum of the ship. She hovered in the entryway for a second, eyes landing on Grace where he was fiddling with the knobs of a microscope. From the blank stare he was directing down the lens, to his foot rhythmically tapping against the floor, it was evident he was trying to pass the time while she finished up.

Astra shifted where she stood, deciding to gain his attention by clearing her throat. The small sound made him jolt away from the microscope, sending some nearby equipment off the table in the process. Before they could fall, he hastily swept them back up with his arm, the items clattering noisly against the surface.

The glasses dangling off his face were pushed up to rest on the bridge of his nose before he turned to face her. A sheepish smile twitched at his lips. "Hey! Sorry, didn't notice you were—"

The words died in his throat, nearly choking on them once his gaze landed on Astra. During that split second his brain stopped functioning, wide eyes taking in the sight before him—his cardigan engulfing her smaller figure with the sleeves reaching past her fingers, his shirt hugging her frame underneath, and wet, curly locks of auburn hair cascading around her head.

In that moment, he realized how terrible of an idea it was to lend his clothes to the only woman he'd seen in god knows how long. Not his greatest decision, but in his defense, it didn't feel right giving away his deceased crew mates clothes. He knew he was overthinking it, however it was too late to second guess himself now.

His face felt like it was blazing, no doubt turning the the shade of a tomato, cause damnit he was still staring and hadn't said anything. His brain was failing him yet again.

Her fingers fiddled with the edges of the sleeves, finding interest in staring at the patterns there. "Thank you for the clothes again." She broke the silence, now tracing along the animals on the front. "I like the foxes on this. They are foxes, right?"

Her voice knocked him out of his stupor, quickly averting his gaze like he'd been caught doing something he's not supposed to. "Y–yeah, they're foxes. I used to have a keychain with one on it, and I have a fox mask one of my students made for me, and some other shirts—" When he met her curious gaze, his throat closed up and his face grew hotter, if possible. "Anyway! You can keep it, if you want. Since you like it. It looks better on you than me."

A light red hue painted her cheeks, one that paled in comparison to the scientist in front of her, who looked ready to melt into a puddle on the floor. "Oh, thank you... I assume the shirt I'm wearing is also yours? Do all your shirts have bad science puns on them?"

Her tone was teasing, fingers pulling as the fabric of the shirt for emphasis as she walked further into the room. It was a little messy, with equipment and supplies strewn about, and a random pillow and blanket thrown in the corner.

There were more of those glass-like structures winding throughout the ship, which she still had no clue what those were for. She'd have to ask him about that.

A light-hearted scoff left him, any tension from before now fading away from his body. "I'll have you know they are amazing science puns, and so is my fashion sense." He remarked with feigned offense, a playful glare in his eyes from behind the rim of his glasses.

"With this adorable cardigan? Can't argue there." She replied with a soft grin, laughing under her breath when his head ducked down, the tips of his ears visibly red. "What were you looking at in the microscope?"

He spared a glance between her approaching figure and his scattered station, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. "It's a long story... But I can fill you in while you eat!" He perked up, a hand carefully grazing her waist to keep her balanced while he slipped past her. "Figured you'd be hungry after, uh— Well, whatever it is you went through to cover you in that amount of blood..."

Grace trailed off while grabbing a ceramic cup filled with noodles, still warm underneath his touch. Both of them needed to clear up some things between them, seeing as neither had any idea how the other ended up on the Hail Mary in the first place. Let alone in the bloodied state they were in, which nearly gave him a heart attack at first. He'd never admit to the shriek that escaped when he first discovered them.

Could anyone blame him, though? Two bodies covered in blood from head-to-toe wasn't exactly a normal sight to stumble upon, even more so in the empty void of space. It was ten times more horrifying than the first time he encountered Rocky.

"Guess we both have some explaining to do." Astra mumbled, holding out her hands as he gently handed her the cup. The smell immediately wafted into her nose, triggering the rumble of her empty stomach. "You start first. I'm starving."

He held no objections, an eager smile on his face as he sat down on the floor with her. She started digging into her meal, which was surprisingly more flavorful than she anticipated, and she couldn't recall the last time she had any sort of noodles.

The man in front of her rambled on while she ate, explaining in vivid detail everything that happened so far. She listened with rapt attention, as much intrigued as she was puzzled the longer the story went on.

What she gathered by the time she ate her entire cup of noodles—the stars were dimming due to a microbe called astrophage, except for one star called Tau Ceti that was immune to this phenomenon, and approximately 11.9 light-years from Earth. He found the cause, these predatory-like organisms called Taumoeba on the planet Adrian – named after Rocky's mate, how sweet – and after successfully breeding a separate strain resistant to nitrogen, he was now routing back to Earth to bring this discovery with him, courtesy of an alien space rock providing him the fuel.

She wished she could've met Rocky, it would've been extraordinary to see intelligent extraterrestrial life with her own eyes. A bit of a bummer to hear she missed that opportunity, but he offered to show her the recordings they made together at some point. He also explained that's what the glass-like tunnels she saw were from, created from xenonite to keep Rocky in his own atmosphere composed mainly of ammonia.

There were some terrifying bumps along the mission, shown by the couple of scars on his face and the burn mark around his arm. She could feel her expression drop from its initial fascination once he – rather hesitantly – mentioned the fact he was forced into going on this one-way trip, rather than volunteering.

He wanted Earth to be saved, he just didn't want to be the one to do it. In the beginning he wanted to help, to provide as much research as they needed to send those four astronauts on their mission, who had long accepted their awaited deaths. Never did he anticipate how an explosion would lead to being sent to his inevitable demise, his life stolen from him for the sake of humanity's survival.

It was simultaneously heartbreaking and frustrating to hear, knowing the man in front of her was unwillingly sent on a suicide mission when all he wanted was to live—the sentiment was familiar in a way that made her chest feel hollow. Spurred on by her emotions, she began to delve into her own explanation while her now empty cup sat beside her.

How it all began with the Quiet Rapture, leading to two distinct governing forces and their goals—the Consolidation of Iron, who wanted to create a new, sustainable future for humanity, and Eden, whose only purpose was to protect and nourish the Last Tree, a symbol of hope for their remaining lives. Their differing viewpoints regarding the future lead to tension between the two, inevitably resulting in a war breaking out that left Filament Station blown to pieces and heavily irradiated.

During the conflict, there was a discovery of two moons—the Z-8 and AT-5, the only planetary bodies left in the universe. Astra and other researchers were trying to study these abnormal moons with oceans of blood on them, however due to their dangerous and unknown qualities, their observations remained at a surface level. That was, until the C.O.I. proposed sending down submarines to collect data that'd be more substantial.

Unfortunately, there wasn't any success. A threat lingered beneath the crimson surface, destroying anything man-made sent to its depths. No one knew what was down there, yet the C.O.I. kept sending one after another despite the consistent lack of progress, leaving endless amounts of valuable information at the bottom of the ocean.

Eventually Simon and herself were chosen to be sealed into a submarine, the SM-13, also known as the Iron Lung. Like all the others, she knew it was a death sentence, that neither of them were making it out of that metal hull.

Astra was sent down after the C.O.I. accused her of an alliance towards an Eden prisoner, for betraying their trust and reporting false information on her psychological assessments of the prisoners. They also suspected her of hindering their research, which was far from true since she'd never sabotage her own studies, but she knew at that point they were piling on her crimes to justify the punishment.

After a brief pause, she decided it was best to leave out what Simon was down there for, almost one-hundred percent certain the man in front of her would freak out. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and while she assumed Grace could acknowledge that factor, telling him Simon was a convicted murderer wouldn't land well either way.

That information could be disclosed later, or preferably never.

Grace had the enthusiasm and curiosity of a little kid the entire time she spoke, constantly asking questions to make more sense of the story. He was attentive to every detail, listening with utmost fascination, his expressions twisting in response to what she said. Definitely more of an engaged listener, rather than herself who preferred to simply nod and hum along, save for the occasional question.

He was beyond intrigued when she mentioned they had established a colony on Mars before the Quiet Rapture—the place where Simon was born before moving to Eden Station. There was a bombardment of inquiries from him, ones she had absolutely no answer for since she never got to experience it for herself. She only ever heard about it, never got to see it in person before it disappeared with the rest of the planets.

If he wanted, it was possible Simon could tell him more about it when he wakes up. She found it adorable how eager Grace looked at that suggestion, like a puppy with an imaginary tail wagging behind him.

At one point he brought her two new cups, one filled to the brim with more noodles and the other some water. Along with it there was a green bag labeled Skittles, which she found out were mini sour candies. The tart coating over the fruity sweetness was unexpected at first, but she quickly began to like it.

By the time she was done talking, she had polished off the second cup of noodles, half the bag of candy, and now sipped on her water. Neither of them were left with a reasonable conclusion as to how Simon and herself ended up on the Hail Mary—let alone in an entirely different universe, but quantum physics wasn't either of their expertise.

"Guess we were both unwilling sacrifices for the sake of saving humanity. That must be some kind of achievement." His deep voice grumbled, half-serious and half-joking.

Astra rolled her eyes, contradicting the smile that was curling on her lips. The rest of the water slid down her throat, and by the time she set the cup down, she took notice of him staring again. Lots of rambling and staring seemed to be his thing.

His elbow was propped against his leg, letting his head rest in the palm of his hand while his eyes flickered across her facial features from behind his lopsided glasses. There was a smile slowly spreading across his face, one she couldn't identify as she rose an eyebrow at him.

"What?" She asked skeptically, trying to ignore the heat rushing to her cheeks at the attention.

That smile shifted into a grin, his gaze locking onto her own with a fond gleam. "Not only are you a doctor, but you're a scientist, too. That's impressive."

It was a statement, not allowing her to confirm nor deny unlike his earlier question. He sounded sure of himself, that it was a fact regardless of what she said next—which he easily predicted what that'd be based on her reaction from the last one.

"I wouldn't say that." As expected she tried to wave it off, unable to look at him as she fiddled with her empty cup. "I was merely one of the best options they had after everything vanished from existence, and the medical position was kind of thrown at me because of my mother."

His stare remained unwavering, yet softened at the doubt in her tone. "I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit." He murmured, wholly genuine and warm, gently nudging his foot against hers as a gesture of reassurance. "You said you were young when this, uhm, Silent— No, Quiet Rapture happened? And all that was left were these moons with oceans of blood..?"

A quiet laugh escaped her at the unease etched into his expression whenever he mentioned blood. Clearly finding them coated in the crimson substance and imagining an ocean full of it had him disturbed. Not that she could blame him, any sane person would be thoroughly freaked out from it.

"Yes, I grew up on Earth for some time, then ended up moving to a station with my family. I was little, so I don't remember much of it." As she spoke her voice dipped down, a deep melancholy painting every word. "It's difficult to use the Earth's ocean as a reference for my studies when I've never actually seen it before. I had to go off of what we had stored in the database."

The smile he wore faltered at her tone, a devastating mixture of disappointment and mourning over the life she could've experienced. It felt like a hole carved itself into his chest, seeing her previously content demeanor deflate before his very eyes, with no way to fix it.

If he could, he would've shown her the ocean and everything else she missed out on. They were heading back to Earth, so he could promise to, but there was this heavy, sinking feeling in his stomach. A pit of dread that he couldn't identify, preventing him from saying such.

Fortunately, his brain decided to cooperate with him this one time, providing him an easy solution.

Grace lit up, already scrambling to his feet by the time she sent him a puzzled glance. "We have to change that. Come with me." He didn't provide any details, merely reaching down to help her up.

She complied easily, though her confusion increased tenfold when one of his hands went to cover her eyes. "What is happening right now?"

"It's a surprise. Just trust me, you'll love it." He paused, a hum in the back of his throat that became uncertain. "Or I hope you will. It's the only option I could think of, seeing as we're in the middle of space and it'll be some time before we—"

She sighed in faux annoyance. "Grace."

He winced, a nervous chuckle slipping out. "Right, sorry. Leading the way."

The trip was a slow one, seeing as the ship was practically a minefield with objects and xenonite scattered all over the place. Grace was careful with guiding her, one hand over her eyes and the other resting against her waist, verbal directions murmured to her as an extra precaution.

By the time they got there, he had her sit on a platform. Astra kept her eyes closed, listening to the sound of his fingers typing and tapping away. A few seconds later a bright light surrounded her, causing her closed eyelids to squeeze further together, struggling to keep them shut like he requested.

To the right of her she heard Grace climb up onto the platform, until his knee bumped against her own. "Okay, you can open them now." He gave the green light, his words layered with a giddy anticipation.

First she peeked one eye open, then the other as they landed on the scene before her. The room they were in was made entirely out of screens, showcasing a sandy shoreline where waves of blue-green water crashed along it, white foam disappearing beneath their feet. Above the ocean's horizon sat the sun, reflecting warm, yellow rays along the waters rippling surface, while hues of orange, red and pink bled throughout the sky like a watercolor painting, broken apart by white, fluffy clouds.

Even with it being a digital view, it was the most beautiful scenery she had ever seen in her life. Slowly she scanned over the entirety of the room, taking in as much as she could from left to right, until eventually she landed on the man sitting next to her. While all her attention was on the display around them, his remained glued to her, as if the scenery paled in comparison to her reaction.

His fingers dragged through his mess of dirty blonde hair, unable to sit still as his shoe began to tap against the platform. "Sooo, do you like it? I know it's not the real thing, but I figured it'd help you picture it."

It felt like only a split second as he glanced away, yet when he looked back, he immediately noticed the glistening light along the edges of her mismatched eyes. A tear slipped down her cheek and he felt his chest tighten in alarm.

"You're crying. Shoot, I didn't mean to make you cry!" He blurted out in panic, quickly shuffling onto his knees so he could get off the platform. "I'm sorry, I didn't think that— Here, I can turn it off—"

Before he could, her hand darted out to latch onto his arm, halting his actions. "No! No, no, no. It's okay, more than okay." She rushed out, offering him a wobbly yet reassuring smile. "God, I love it. It's so beautiful. I could've never imagined it like this."

Right, happy tears. He forgot it could be those.

With a sigh of relief, he let himself sink back down beside her. The hand on his arm returned to her lap, and he found himself silently missing the contact. He shoved that thought down as quickly as it came.

Astra played with the ends of her sleeves, watery eyes wandering along the screens with nothing but awe. "Y'know, this is much prettier than an ocean of blood filled with flesh and bones" She joked, turning to him with a tiny grin.

Grace shuddered, pulling a face that coaxed a laugh from her throat. "I don't want to imagine what that looks like. I've been scared enough on this mission." He huffed playfully, before twisting his body around to slide off the platform. "Hold on a sec, let me change it. I think you'll like the Great Barrier Reef."

The screens around them shifted, showcasing a thriving ecosystem along the ocean floor. Coral of all shapes, sizes and hues, intertwining with bight green seagrass and algae, while various types of fish swam in and out of the large reef. The beach was pretty, but getting to see the life waiting beneath the surface of the ocean was breathtaking.

"It's so vibrant. There's so many different colors and fish." Astra whispered, more so to herself than the man sitting next to her. Then her eyes squinted, zeroing in on a creature sliding along the screen that she couldn't recognize. "What is that one?"

Grace followed her gaze, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's a sea turtle. They like to eat jellyfish." He quietly answered, unable to help himself as he added on a small factoid.

She didn't know what a jellyfish was either, only humming in acknowledgment as she watched the turtle float by. "I like them. They're cute."

She wasn't sure how long they'd been in there for. Apparently this was the Mental Health room – or as he liked to call it the Don't Go Crazy Room – a way to help ward off cabin fever in the endless void of space.

They went back and forth like that for a while, with Grace changing the scenery and her trying to point out places and animals that she learned about. When she couldn't identify something he'd do it for her, each one paired with a random fact he knew off the top of his head.

It was the most relaxed Astra had felt since she got here. Maybe it was the slow realization that everything was fine here, that she'd be able to return to Earth like nothing ever happened.

Or maybe it was the company of the man beside her, chatting away about anything and everything while she listened, his low, slightly raspy voice soothing to her ears. Whichever it was, it felt like a weight had lifted off her shoulders.

At some point she let her head fall against his shoulder, the peaceful scenery – it was now a forest with a family of red foxes skittering around – and the comforting hush of his words only enhancing the drowsiness washing over her body.

She felt his shoulder tense for a second, his sentence coming to a shuddering halt as his breath hitched above her. A beat of silence, then a light pressure on top of her head, his voice resuming as a gentle murmur that brushed along the curled strands of her auburn hair.

Astra was trying to listen, she really was. But he was warm beside her, the arm that steadied itself around her waist merely inviting her to cozy up to him further. She was dozing off, his words gradually fading into silence, the last thing she registered being the gentle motion of his thumb rubbing along her waist underneath the cardigan.

At least that would've been it, had a startlingly loud bang from above not ripped her out of said blissful state. Along with it there were heavy, panted breaths, causing her head to snap up in that direction.

When they landed on a blood-coated Simon, she wasn't sure whether to be relieved at his recovery, or alarmed for the scientist beside her, who he was currently staring daggers into. If looks could kill, Grace would've slumped over then and there.

And he definitely wanted to, because he felt like prey being stalked by its predator—a hound ready to lunge for the fox's throat.

"Who the fuck are you?"

He almost let out the same scream from when he first found them. Almost.

No, instead he let out a mix between a whimper and yelp, his body flailing away from Astra as he went tumbling off the platform.

Ouch.

*Shoves all three of them in a box and shakes them around violently*