i will earn my freedom.

At some point, Dvy had taken up his other hand and Grace was left to listen and nod attentively while left unable to fidget about with the sand like he usually did.

❝ If you guys already knew why did you-— Never mind. You're right. It's... technically possible to do what you're suggesting. I still don't know if it'd be smart but it's doable. Theoretically. ❞ It would mean a good and long conversation with Adrian to brainstorm. If Rocky and Grace together was enough to give anyone around a headache, just imagine what it was like when Grace was with other scientists.

❝ We're running with the theory it's some sort of fungi. It's unlike anything that existed on earth, but the foundation and general behavior seems in line with a few certain opportunistic fungi strains. In summary: it's the closest we've got so I'm kind of running with it and hoping for the best. But it's sentient to some degree, to a big degree actually. It can communicate with us, it can interact with our brain functions. At least to the point of being heard and seen when anyone not inoculated like you or the other Eridians can't. ❞

Grace fiddled with Dvy's fingers in one hand as he continued.

❝ It was most likely an infection via direct contact or maybe it was airborne... which is why you guys are pretty safe. Still incredibly important to treat it with the utmost care, though! Which clearly, we were all on top of that. But I think it needs direct contact to infect enough to take over, to destroy its host-— or consume it and bring it into the fold. Or whatever the heck it does. I think whatever batch of it I got from Dvy is just enough to patch me into the freaky hivemind talking line but not much else. ❞

He gave a sort of helpless shrug. A nice talk with Adrian and then Adrian could pull all the scientists in for a collective thrum and some sort of breakthrough would be reached. They just needed more brains chewing on this was all.

❝ We're fine aside from the mental strain. But physically I don't think we're in any danger unless we go playing patty-cake with the meat. And, yeah. Talk about meat does hurt. I'll vote yes to that topic change. ❞

Ryland leaned some against Dvy in turn, closed his eyes. Sitting still was hard for him, especially when he was contending with the dull thrum of pain in his joints. It wasn't bad all the time, or even most of the time. But long days and shorter night of sleep and a whole bunch of physical activity in a short period of time usually put him in a spot like this: annoying background pain that was relatively easy to ignore as long as he continued to move.

Another smile played at his lips and a rumbled chuckle. ❝ Rocky, we've turned theories into objective realities by ourselves. I know it's weird to think about, humans hate the idea of it too. It's nothing anyone has been able to prove. And even with Dvy right here, with technical evidence of there being a different Sol... we can't DO anything with that knowledge. There's not really a way to backtrack and figure out how it works. ❞

He opened his eyes and slid them over to Dvy. ❝ I would have figured it out if you had wanted to go back home but... I guess it's really convenient for me that you don't. I think I'm getting to be a little too old for all these drastic first-time discoveries. ❞ His gaze lingered a bit too long and then ventured to Rocky.

❝ You guys can call me whatever you want. There's no rules on my end and that's what would matter. It's rude to call someone something they don't want to be called. But both of those are my name and I don't much mind who calls me what. Single names have been easier for translating purposes and 'Grace' was what I was most used to. If Rocky likes 'Grace' more than Rocky can keep using 'Grace'. ❞ It was just that simple.

[ QUESTION FOR GRACE...]

❝ I'm okay, buddy. I'm...sorry I've been neglecting you. I miss hanging out. It's just another busy arc, you know? Like when we first touched down. I remember you would visit just about every day but you could only stay a minute or two some days. I've been trying to get Dvy back on his feet and get him... comfortable here like I am. It's a lot. I'm kind of a weird human, you know I am. I adjusted a lot faster than Dvy or any other human would. Dvy has been doing a fantastic job but it's still a lot. And then there was that period where we weren't sure how contagious this was and I didn't want to put you or anyone else or even the entire ecosystem of Erid in danger. I've been busy trying to figure out what this is, how it ticks. I'm sure your mate has been busy with it too. ❞

Which saddened Grace. Rocky had been away from his mate for so very long and even longer still when things were so busy and hectic the first few years of his time on Erid. And now? When things had finally started to settle, now Adrian was likely out and busy and buried in work. And once again, it was technically because of Grace. Oh god. If he was the reason for an over a century-long relationship to end in divorce... he didn't know what he'd do.

❝ I'll talk to you more, Rocky. I promise. Even if it's coming out here for an hour or two and just... sitting. We'll get this figured out. We'll get the food situation figured out. Everything will settle again and we can hang out properly. For now... just keep me up to date with things. I'll get with Adrian in the next few days so we can share theories and possible solutions. We'll figure this out. ❞

He only wished he wasn't trying to tackle two very important issues at once. Feeding Dvy and solving this fungi issue. It was admittedly... stressful and he was trying not to let it all weigh on him. Perilous and immediate danger was stressful enough but he was also having to worry about Dvy overdoing it because of his avoidance to the cloned tissue. What if he got sick? What if his organs started to throw a fit because of the malnutrition? What if he had to force him to do something he didn't want to do? It all made Ryland feel so sick and miserable.

❝ You just need to promise me that you're trying to spend time with Adrian too. ❞

Dvylikh sat up straight, his eyes bouncing between Ryland and Rocky. There seemed to be a fine print somewhere between their conversations that felt as if it was alluding to him being the main reason why everyone was so busy. Is that too far a reach? No, definitely not. These two were practically dancing around the topic and he wasn’t sure if they knew he’d caught on.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ryland. I know you’re very intelligent, but you’re a biologist.” Dvy mumbled. “Not an astrophysicist. Though knowing you, you’d teach yourself astrophysics if I asked.”

[ GRACE LOVE SCIENCE. GRACE WILL DO BECAUSE GRACE LOVE SCIENCE. ] A bait, of a proportion even Adrian would perhaps chortle at. [ GRACE DO THINGS HE LOVE VERY WELL. ]

“To a fault, yeah.” Dvy shrugged. “You didn’t answer Ryland’s non-question about Adrian. Adrian is your mate?”

[ YES. TOGETHER VERY LONG. ADRIAN TALK TO GRACE ABOUT CELLS. ADRIAN TALK TO ERIDIAN SCIENTIST ABOUT GRACE AND CELLS. ]

“Ah, a liaison.”

[ <LIAISON>. ADRIAN ALSO DO RESEARCH LIKE GRACE. ]

Dvy cocked his head to the side. “And… are you trying to spend time with Adrian?”

There was a long pause then. A whistling sound came from his carapace, perhaps something of an analogue to a sigh.

[ HARD. ]

“What’s hard?”

[ ROCKY NOT KNOW HOW TO SAY. ]

Dvy moved to the side, observing the boulder-creature fully now. “Is it.. hard to find time, or hard to find reason to find time?”

[ VERY LONG TIME IN SPACE. MISS ADRIAN EVERY DAY. COME BACK DIFFERENT. ]

“It’s…” Dvy moved and looked at Ryland with a slightly alarmed expression. “…if it’s something you want to talk to Ryland privately about, I can toddle back home.”

[ ROCKY NOT KNOW. ]

“I can’t say I’m an expert in any of this, given that I was imprisoned from a really young age. But… I can empathise. Being away from someone you love does make you feel like you’ve missed something when you get to see them again. Time that you won’t get back. And in that time you’ve probably developed different habits,” he gestured at Ryland, “and different friends. Something slightly unrecognisable. Makes that… that gap bigger.”

[ MAYBE JUST BUSY WITH DVY GRACE. MAYBE ONLY ROCKY PROBLEM. ]

“Have you… tried to talk to Adrian about this?”

[ NEGATIVE ]

“I don’t blame you. It’s hard.” Dvy sighed. “You need a liaison.”

Rocky lifted his body. It was a gesture of, why didn’t I think of this before, a slow-rising realisation.

[ DVY PRISON WHEN YOUNG? DVY KILL AS SMALL HUMAN? ]

“Yeah, well, yeah, there weren't that many adults around that weren't ill or gone stark raving mad from the rapture to -- Hey, don’t change the topic on me!”

This made Rocky stand on all legs again. [ APOLOGY. ROCKY NOT KNOW WHAT TO SAY. ]

“Okay, alright. Help me up.” Dvy leaned onto Rocky’s carapace, and with one of its limbs’ help, Dvy stood up. “I think both of you need some time to chat privately. It’s nearing lunchtime now so I’ll head home and get the table ready.” Huge excuse. “Today went well. We didn’t argue. That’s good, right?”

[ VERY GOOD. ROCKY DVY TALK MORE LATER. ]

Ryland Grace was a big proponent for free will and choice-— for very, very obvious reasons. But he was also a man of logic and of fact and a man who knew how it felt and what it looked like to slowly wither away due to malnutrition. The whole body suffered it and it wasn't something to play around with. He wanted Dvylikh to be the one to make the choice, he wanted Dvylikh to believe that he had a say in what he ate and what he didn't. He wanted to not force the whole cloned tissues situation onto him because it was understandable for another human to not want to cannibalize the other-— no matter how pretty and scientific you made it... a Me-burger was a Me-burger. It was hard to overlooked even from the standpoint of the owner of that original tissue.

But they were running out of time for there to BE other options and Grace had to wonder if it came down to watching Dvy fatigued and bedridden and a body begging for what it was not receiving or sneaking the meat in like vegetables with a stubborn toddler-— what would he be more willing to do? Would the broken trust be worth seeing his new companion up and about and not swimming in his shirts far more than he ever should have? Grace couldn't answer that. Not right now. Maybe not until he had no other choice but to answer it.

❝ It's more than just losing some weight and you know it. ❞ Stern but not argumentative. Dvy had stated his wish and Ryland could do nothing but honor it until desperation drove him somewhere unsavory. He took the comb and hair tie and puppeteer the man around until he could stand and put his hair up for their planned day.

❝ Gosh. I haven't had a beer since-— ❞ A crowded room, karaoke, a blur of foggy faces. Some he recalled names of, others were just ghostly outlines of people. Stratt he could remember clearly, down to the lines on her face. A beacon of detail in a room full of foggy shadows. He wondered when she'd started to gray, she must have at some point. The stress didn't seem to touch her, but the years would have.

❝ Awhile. It has been awhile. I had hard liquor more recently than beer. ❞ Grace smoothed a few stray strands of hair behind Dvy's ears and was just in time for Rocky to come barging in.

His head had whipped around, a scolding on his tongue-— but Rocky had merely shot up his appendages in apology. Aw, man. He could be upset at the guy. Grace GOT it, he did. He wasn't as strict and as anal bout time as the Eridian was, but it had always frustrated him when he'd been given vague estimates for meetings or get togethers only for the other party to fall completely outside of that range.

Ryland finished securing the hair tie and gave Dvy's shoulder a pat to signal that he was finished. He allowed the two the room to engage, has a certain nostalgia for the computerized voice that translated his friend's replies. The smallest of smiles crawled onto his features as Dvy made a valiant attempt at mimicking something in the language.

❝ He's right. But points for trying, starshine. ❞ He hoisted Dvy up and drew in close to whisper: ❝ Three minutes late is like...a crime punishable by death. ❞

[ ROCKY HEAR GRACE WHISPER. UNDERSTAND JOKE. JOKE NOT FUNNY. STATEMENT. ]

Ryland's face split into a grin and he leaned away, his hand finding the man's own as ground rules were established. Whenever Rocky would look for him, Grace would simply shrug.

One question, one answer. It was a fair rule and reasonable limitations for his Eridian pal.

The walk down the stairs was as lengthy as it always was. Rocky's movements were deliberate and precise-— this was a marvel of Eridians that Ryland was still absolutely enamored by. They didn't move with a muscle system like humans did; it made everything all the more fascinating. Their hands swung idly as the walked (most propelled by Grace, ever restless).

The matter of wellness came up as they walked for a place to settle and he peered over and down at the man, mouth pulled into a slight frown as if to say 'don't avoid the question.' It WAS fine not to know and he nodded along as Rocky said just that.

❝ Oh yeah. Grace took a little over a full year just to start acting like a person again. ❞ And that was just the physical. He was still trying to deal with the mental of it all.

When they came to a spot in the sand, it was less so natural and more so because the truth was out and about now and Rocky was admittedly not happy about it. At least he was trying to understand, Grace thought. The scientist had somewhat worried the guy would launch himself at Dvy, no questions asked.

The calming hand he'd raised slowly lowered as Rocky calmed and settled into the sand. Oh, yeah. He could tell he and Rocky were going to get reeeeeal philosophical later and the Eridian was not going to like the answers he had to that. Grace gave a comforting squeeze to Dvy's hand and urged him to sit.

And then it was his turn to face interogration. Gulp.

❝ I think that would be wise, buddy. It's reacting to my visit. It doesn't like that I harmed it there-— that seems to be the place of growth origin. The cells and cell damage seems to be the most dense there I think an extra later of isolation would be smart. It'll also let us see how the rest of the sub reacts when its been cut off from the central zone. ❞

[ WHY NOT EAT CRAFT MEAT? PROTEIN GROW NO STOP?]

Grace leaned back on one arm while the other hand continued to remain entwined thoughtlessly in Dvy's own.

❝ I don't think it's that simple, Rocky. I've been introducing Dvy's tissue to samples of the meat and it's shown just that... protein growth. Exponential growth. But the issue lies with the fact this thing is a pathogen. It's a hivemind microorganism of sorts and we're both already infected to the point of hearing it. It speaks, Rocky. I don't think eating it is a smart idea... ❞

His head cocked to the side, his glasses hanging now from his ears. ❝ And I worry that if we find a way to isolate what makes this thing tick, we'd lose the magic that makes the tissue mutate and replicate at such a large volume and short time. Which would kill the idea of using it for food anyway. ❞

Grace slid his gave for Dvy, grinning lazily. ❝ Maybe we can ask it really nicely to let us have some of its genetic mass without screwing us over. Haha. If only it was that easy, right? ❞

“I wish. I think that’s the point of it calling for me. Says some bullshit about how it’ll be able to feed me. We should really be careful about that.”

A few more clicks of his claws, this time urgent, deep in thought. Rocky shifted his weight as he did so, lifting his face, then lowering it, clearly in hesitation. He turned to Dvy, who returned his glance with a quirked brow.

[ ROCKY NOT CHEMIST. NOT SCIENTIST. MAYBE ADRIAN BETTER EXPLAIN. ] Oh dear. Adrian is not going to like the fact that he’d tried to weasel himself out of it, they’ve discussed this in great, painful detail. [ BUT ROCKY TRY. ]

Good, yes, try. [ DISCUSSION WITH SCIENTIST STUDY GRACE. ROCKY MAKE DISCUSSION SHORT. ROCKY WILL TALK UNTIL 🎶🎶🎵 HOUR IF NOT. ] He wriggled slightly. [ ERIDIAN UNDERSTAND HUMAN NOT LIKE IDEA OF EAT SELF. SAME FOR ERIDIAN. NOT GOOD EAT SOMETHING OF SAME SPECIES. MIGHT MAKE SICK. SO WHEN DVY CRAFT APPEAR ERIDIAN SCIENTIST TEST TO SEE IF CAN USE AS DVY GRACE FOOD. ]

Of course they had. Why wouldn’t they? It fell into their researcher’s laps during a time where the only reliable thing they had was from Grace himself, and what little they can supplement from their planet.

[ VERY QUICK NOTICE CRAFT MEAT IS NOT GOOD, YES. ] Crazy as it sounded. Their first contact with outer space had now led into further cosmic madness that they were unprepared for. They had tightened their biohazard security measures three-fold since. [ ROCKY ASK TO SEE IF GRACE KNOW. ROCKY ALREADY KNOW. ROCKY APOLOGIZE. WEIRD MEAT CANNOT EXPLAIN WITH SCIENCE. BUT SO IS GRACE. GRACE ALSO WEIRD MEAT. ERIDIAN HAVE MORE EQUIPMENT NOW BECAUSE OF GRACE. SCIENTIST THINK WE CAN EXTRACT CELL AND CUT TRAIT OUT. LIKE GRACE DO WITH TAUMOEBA. ]

 “Genome editing? If Ryland’s the first species you’ve done this with, you’re looking at centuries long research, buddy,” Dvy snorted, shaking his head slowly. “We’d be long gone well before that.”

[ ERIDIAN HAVE RESEARCH BEFORE DVY GRACE. SO NOT START FROM ZERO. ]

“Well, at least there’s that.” Dvy sighed. “How do you even do cell imaging if you don’t perceive light...?”

Rocky swayed. [ WRONG ERIDIAN TO ASK QUESTION. ROCKY VERY GOOD AT FIXING. VERY GOOD AT ENGINE. NOT GOOD WITH CELL. ADRIAN GOOD WITH CELL. ADRIAN WILL EXPLAIN. ] He clicked his claws. [ NOT WHY ROCKY BRING UP TOPIC. DVY GRACE SAY MEAT IS OWN ORGANISM? INFECT DVY GRACE? ADRIAN WORRY. ROCKY WORRY TOO. WILL BE OKAY? ]

“Ryland can explain it better, but it’s just our working theory. We’ve been experiencing hallucinations from it. It’s... not common, but present. Maybe it’s my prolonged exposure, and Ryland got it from me, but I noticed that -- that we’ve not been having any since we’ve removed ourselves from the submersible for a few days now. More than that. Probably week and a half, and the last time Ryland went down to check it, he was in protective gear.” Dvy held Ryland’s hands in both of his, cupped and pressed for warmth. Rocky tilted its head to the side, then at the two humans, but said nothing. “So I have hope that our bodies are slowly growing some sort of resistance from it, or whatever it was, it needs to be close to the main network.”

[ TALK ABOUT MEAT HURT. TALK SOMETHING ELSE. OTHER TOPIC]

“I thought you’d never ask, buddy.”

[ WHERE DVY COME FROM? ]

“A space station called Eden, near Mars, in Sol. But not Ryland’s Sol.”

[ WHAT DVY MEAN DIFFERENT SOL? ONLY ONE SOL. ]

“Not really up for science talk today Rocky. Science talk hurt Dvy. Wormholes. You know what that is?”

[ ONLY THEORY.]

“Let’s leave it there, then. I’m not where I’m supposed to be, and I’m glad for it. No, I don't want to leave. This is my home now, with Ryland. Unless Ryland chooses to leave Erid, I will stay.”

[ DVY WORLD STARS DIE? ALL? ]

“All 400 billion of them and then some. Planets with life were gone too. The space was dark. It’s always been dark, I know. But there's always been the sun and suddenly one day it's... not there. I was a child when it happened. I watched Mars... disappear.”

[ HOW SURVIVE? HUMAN LIFE PLANT LIFE NEED RADIATION OXYGEN WATER ]

“We don’t. Hence the...” Dvy grimaced, “the killing part.”

[ OH. APOLOGY.]

“Don’t worry about it.”

[ QUESTION FOR DVY. ]

“Yes.”

[ WHY CALL GRACE <RYLAND> ] 

Dvy blinked. “It’s his name.”

[ GRACE SAY GRACE IS GRACE NAME. ]

“In my culture it’s a taboo to call someone alive by the name of someone who’s already dead. Which is what Ryland’s name is. It’s a family name. There must be hundreds of Graces in his family.” Dvy shrugged. “And I think Ryland sounds better anyway.”

[ ROCKY LIKE GRACE MORE. ]

“You do you buddy,” he smiled, subtly leaning against Ryland’s shoulder.

Oh. Oh these two are doing something with their appendages, alright. And their heartbeats are almost synchronised. Wonder what THAT meant. Good thing Rocky is not Erid’s leading expert on humans, right? Right. Rocky moved its front claws forward.

-— Oh! To be so blissfully unaware as Dr. Ryland Grace. The kicker of it all, was he wasn't stupid when it came to this... stuff. Had he been paying closer attention, he very likely would have caught onto things before much later when he actually would. But with so much on his plate at the moment, you could have screamed it in his face and there was still a chance he might not have heard you.

Ryland had started the ball rolling on a more longer-term project that day. It turned out: when you fed some of Dvy's cells, some his organic matter, to bits of Arby's... it behaved differently than he'd expected, than he'd assumed based off all previous available evidence. The cells did not burst and die but rather began to clump and multiply until they formed the beginnings of some sort of lump. Interesting.

And interesting enough for him to set up an experiment to see just what this did over the course of a few days...

At some point, shortly after, Armando had initially pinged him with concern for Dvy's heartrate. Then had immediately cancelled it as a false positive. How had it flagged a false positive it itself had made? Weird. But, again, he was so nose-deep in all of this that he was more than happy to be soothed by it.

He finished what he could, cleaned up and packed up, and returned well into the hour of 'super late' to find Dvy curled up in his bed and sleeping like he'd hadn't slept before. The couch had been entertained, but no. His joints always, always protested the couch and as polite and as self-sacrificing as Ryland was, the two of them had curled up together before and both men had been fine with it. It was a completely human thing to want to huddle for warmth and survival. Or whatever.

The two of them were so busy they did practically cycled turns with the bed. But not fully and not all of the time; they were absolutely curled in on each other for at least some of every night. Dvy usually woke up first (an EXTREMELY early riser even compared to Grace) and Grace was typically in the bed last every evening cycle. It was a nice routine. It was comfortable and safe and he admittedly looked forward to it after a long day and poking at cancerous-like clumps and seeing how far he could push the limits of them.

They ate together every meal and that too was calming. It soothed something in him and he couldn't really put a finger on it. Ryland was used to eating alone save for his ritual with Marissa. Otherwise it was quick and cheap and easy food he could shovel into his mouth so he could focus on more important things. Meal time had never really been... sacred. But now it kind of felt that way.

Dvy was losing weight. Lots of it. It made Grace anxious, drew his focus from the maybe-fungi situation more than he'd have liked. It chewed on him particularly hard as they made their way around the home to get ready for what Grace had lovingly described as a 'little beach episode'.

His arms were still up in the process of squirming into a shirt when he peered around to catch Dvy's gaze in the mirror. God, they were so casual. Everything about their lives had become so casually interwoven and it wasn't awkward or stifling or anything. He had the occasional bursts of feeling happy(?) about it, but otherwise it just WAS. It was just a completely normal thing to not really make much note of.

❝ You can do that. If that's what you need to do, do it. We both teacher-hand each other a lot. ❞ And it was highly effective.

❝ I'm going to talk to Rocky about any potential protein substitutes besides what we have. I know you really, really don't want to. But you have to eat something more than what you are. You're dropping body mass. Keeping that here is a really delicate blend of nutrients and Me-meat. ❞ Grace had continued to not push it; he didn't like to push anything onto Dvy even when he KNEW it was the right call, knew that he was right.

Grace threw on his shoes and his worn cardigan and waited as patiently as he could for Dvy to join him. ❝ I can set you up a behavioral chart. ❞ A deep and throaty rumble of a laugh. ❝ Get you little stars to give you when you do something good. Toss you a 'Good job, starshine.' with it. ❞

He jested, but he was very proud of Dvy for agreeing to this and to giving the dynamic another chance. Grace was so sure that a good relationship between Rocky and Dvy would be integral to a lot of important things that needed and could be accomplished.

As normal as their bed-sharing was their casual touches. Everything from hair-touching and tending to leaning against one another, occupying personal bubbles. All of it done often and with ease. One of these instances being Ryland apparent openness with holding Dvy's hand just about anywhere they went.

❝ You'll like it. Water-trauma aside, it's a really nice place to sit and just think... ❞

Domesticity did not come naturally for someone like Dvylikh. It fell gently like a slumber, bone-tired, and suddenly they woke up warm in each other’s arms. When he could not justify arguing with his mind anymore — that he should sleep on the couch, or the floor, or quite frankly anywhere as far away as he possibly could from Ryland Grace — Dvy surrendered himself to any interpretation of this vulnerability, and pulled the other warm body closer against him.

Malnutrition. That was it. He was beginning to think much slower than he’d like, caring much less about details (which in one way helped him from overanalysing every little aspect of his designs), and had grown colder each night around his extremities. He’d lost weight, easily discerned from the way Ryland’s shirts were beginning to hang loose around his chest and arms, but hadn’t dared to ask Armando to measure the rate. Figuring out the rate meant that he’d need to figure out a solution, and the solution was staring right in front of him this whole time: meat.

First you hold his hands (or rather, let him hold yours), then you sleep on his bed, and now you’re thinking about eating his flesh? If this is how the infection is progressing through his brain, he’d better ask Rocky about fashioning himself a gun, since it sounded to him like he was going to lose his mind soon.

“Yeast.” He cleaned up the sink thoroughly and gave his face a quick wash. Walking out of the bathroom with a small towel in one hand, he handed Ryland a comb and a hair tie. “The answer is yeast. I’ll be fine for now, I might lose a lot of weight but I’m not doing too horribly just yet. The seeds will hopefully take, and we will have yeast.” That would mean a few more months yet, not including the fermentation process. Eridians are clever folks, he thought — if they’d managed to clone Ryland’s cells in vitro and made him lab meat for him to chow down on, there was no reason why they wouldn’t be able to culture yeast. Fast, too.

“Maybe we’ll even have beer by the end of the year.” Hopefully that would be sufficient to staunch the worry in Ryland’s tone. He made a dissatisfied face when Ryland offered him a chart, and sat in front of him with a grunt.

“I hope it is as good as you say. Last time I went, it was calling to me. I just had to see it. Tell it to fuck off.” He sighed. “And—-“

[ —LONG MUST ROCKY WAIT OUTSIDE. HUMANS TAKE TOO LONG TO—-]

Rocky barged through the unlocked door, and paused at the threshold, looking at the two men in the living room. Dvylikh’s heartbeat rose and Rocky swerved to the side, two claws up in surrender.

[ APOLOGY. APOLOGY. APOLOGY. NOT USED TO DVY. ROCKY COME IN PEACE.]

“You better be,” Dvy answered. Ooh, the little rock guy was so lucky Ryland was holding a handful of his hair then. “We agreed at—“ Dvy whistled, “—hour.”

[ WRONG. DVY MADE SOUND THAT MEANS <MOLTING CARAPACE >. THE CORRECT HOUR IS 🎵🎶. DVY GRACE LATE, STRONG STATEMENT.]

Dvy glanced at a clock ticking away on a console table. “By three minutes.” He raised an arm to silently beg for Ryland to help him up, and when he’d managed, the back of his hand trailed down Ryland’s forearm, lingering near his hand. “Fine, let’s go. But there’s a rule you have to agree to adhere to before we go.”

[ WHY RULE FOR ROCKY? ]

“Because you’re a d—“ he took a deep breath, “impatient. And I don’t like being rushed.”

[ SECOND HUMAN SLOWER THAN GRACE. INTELLECTUAL DEFECT? GENETIC DAMAGE FROM SPACE? HEAD INJURY BRAIN DAMAGE? ]

“Lack of nutrition. And patience.”

There was a long silence then, with Rocky looking up at Ryland but saying nothing. He’d been well advised to tread any conversation about food lightly. He wasn’t sure what ‘lightly’ meant, but had gathered by inference that Dvy was just not up for the line of query, so he moved on to the next, while they slowly made their way to the beach.

[ DVY SAID RULE FOR ROCKY? WHAT RULE ]

“Oh. Right. One question, one answer. No chaining like you did when you first pissed me off.” At least this word was already in his dictionary, Dvy thought. “I’m already nursing a headache from this, and we haven’t even started.”

[ BECAUSE DVY CONDITION ROCKY AGREE. ONE QUESTION ONE ANSWER. DVY CAN ASK TOO. ROCKY ANSWER. ]

“Deal.”

[ ROCKY ONE QUESTION INCOMING. DVY BETTER NOW? ]

“In what way?”

[ ALL WAY. ANY WAY. ]

“In general. You mean in general.”

[ YES. ]

Dvy took a deep breath, grasping Ryland’s hand tighter in his. He knew then that he couldn’t possibly lie. “I don’t know. I’m healing. And Ryland keeps me company. I was expecting nightmares but it’s been quiet on that front and I’m worried about that. But in general, I’m… I don’t know.”

[ ITS OKAY NOT KNOW ANSWER. GRACE TAKE LONG TIME TO HEAL TOO. HUMANS TAKE TIME TO HEAL. LOTS OF TIME. ROCKY HELP. GRACE HELP. DVY REST. ]

Oh, okay. Dvy could see why Ryland was so attached to this guy. “You forgot your question. That was a statement.”

[ OH. YES. ] Rocky moved this way and that. [ WHY DVY INSIDE CRAFT NO DOOR? DVY SAID PUNISHMENT. ROCKY ASK GRACE WHAT < PUNISHMENT> MEAN. NEED CLARIFICATION ]

“I…” they were facing the ocean then, and Dvy paused in the middle of his sentence. Ryland’s hand felt like an anchor, rooting him to the ground before he could plummet again. “I won’t lie to you. I killed people. That’s why I was punished.”

Rocky flinched, turning his head to look at Ryland urgently.

[ DVY KILL? OWN PEOPLE? WHY? ]

“Resources. Our stars died. People get hungry and… and they kill each other for it.”

[ DVY KILL PEOPLE SO DVY CAN EAT? ]

“If I hadn’t done it, someone else would.”

A long, uncomfortable pause before Rocky managed to say anything again. [ WHY NO WORK TOGETHER TO SHARE. WHY MUST KILL? ]

“Pass. Too philosophical.”

Rocky’s claws clicked together — a quiet protest — but managed to contain himself. For now. Grace will have the brunt of it later.

[ DVY KILL GRACE? ]

”No, of course not.” Dvy answered quickly. “He saved me. You saved me. Erid saved me, I wouldn’t do that to any of you.”

[ WHAT DIFFERENCE? ]

”You weren’t trying to kill me first. That’s the difference.”

Okay. Fair. [ UNDERSTOOD. ] Rocky swayed and settled on the sand. [ DVY QUESTION LIST TEMPORARY HALT. ROCKY ASK GRACE QUESTION NOW. ]

”Thank the stars,” Dvy rumbled.

[ PROGRESS ON RESEARCH? DVY INSIDE CRAFT WITH MEAT. MEAT FOLD GROW WHILE GRACE AWAY. NOW BLOCK WAY TO CENTER OF GROWTH. ERID SCIENTIST SUGGEST CUT MEAT AND PUT XENONITE CAGE AROUND CENTER GROWTH. BUT WAIT FOR GRACE RESEARCH. ]

Well, fudge. When it was all laid out like that right in front of his face, plain as can be... yeah. Yikes. He'd really been dropping the ball.

Grace had pulled back to observe Dvy's independent attempt, but his mind was churning with solutions to this problem HE had helped cultivate. ❝ I'm... really sorry, Dvy. You're right. You're not a houseplant and even if it's implied you can do whatever you want, I suppose you don't know any parameters or limitations. That's... that is my bad. I'll work on it. ❞

When Dvy had finished, he approached to look everything over and nodded. ❝ We recycle these where we can. I use metal ones when possible that they've whipped up for me. ❞ But there were really only specific instances he could justify using those sort of pipette tips.

❝ Puh-leeeease do not dismantle Armando. We'd quite literally die without it. I'll get you something to do or I'll arrange things to where you can start something up yourself. How about some homework, hm? ❞

Grace grinned, peered at Dvy from the top of his glasses even as he began to clean up their practice components so he could prepare for the real deal.

❝ You get me a list of everything you'd need for that mill. And get me a list of otherwise things you'd like to work on. I'll see what I can do and we'll see how the science team can assist. Does that work? At least to start? ❞

The idea of Dvy simply marching into the remains of the sub and blowing it all to bits was... oddly appealing. But that didn't solve the actual issue: he and Grace were infected with it. ❝ Now, if you wouldn't mind standing pretty over there, I've got to get real close and personal with your blood. ❞ He clicked off the practice tip into a container and began the formal process over to begin running his tests on Dvy's own blood.

❝ You can talk to whoever you want, starshine. Most Eridians that come into direct contact with the biodome are fluent in English at this point. The problem is going to be that you'll need a mobile translator since you aren't fluent in Eridian. There are usually 1-2 by the main airlock section and they'll help you get into contact with any others you may need to talk to. ❞

Ryland worked the whole while he spoke, moving the samples to another part of the table to be loaded up into a device that he set a timer for.

❝ By the book teachers are never popular. Not saying I was a popular teacher but... kids aren't stupid. They know when someone is just showing up because they need the paycheck. If you wanted them to give a hoot about anything, you had to care. So...thank you. I'm glad you find my methods useful! ❞

A glance cast over his shoulder, a beaming smile. In his coat, gloves, and goggles it looked absolutely ridiculous.

❝ Unfortunately, a lot of what we have to do is to work backwards from what we have to get to the building blocks. Sometimes we have to reinvent things with the materials we have here. In some ways, we've found faster and more efficient methods and solutions. In other ways? Well, you've seen the sunlight situation. ❞ A vague gesture over his head as he maintained his back towards the other man.

❝ You can talk to Rocky too later when we have our sanctioned beach rest day, haha. I know you guys got off on a, no pun intended, rocky start... but he is the one you'll want to talk to most. Genius engineer. He's your Eridian for most things you've got in mind, I think. And he's real hungry for things to solve like I am. Don't be afraid to tell him to tone it down, though. With us, we're... we just go. We feed off each other. Sometimes it feels like we're part of the same brain. But I know our energies are not your energy. He's adaptable. You just have to let him know how he needs to adapt to you. ❞

Well then, if Rocky is just like Ryland, but he's the engineer than a biologist, then Dvy knows exactly what Rocky is too. Manufactured urgency. They need something to do because they are engines that can not be switched off. A reactor, even. A highly volatile reactor. Dvy resisted rolling his eyes at this thought, taking his gloves carefully and setting them aside for reuse. Materials are scarce after all, and he could use the gloves to handle things at the nursery.

But first. “Okay. I'm going to head back home after watering, if that's all the same to you. It wouldn't take me long to come up with a very basic model, I think. With luck, the Eridians might already have industrial fabricators.” Maybe they'd laugh at his sketches and shove modern equipment through the airlock he could use fresh from their factory. That would be true winter solstice magic and he would be the happiest boy on Erid, most certainly.

“Don't choke on my blood,” he said, gesturing with two fingers on his forehead and flicking it off over the bridge of his nose: a Martian greeting, and a crude one between friends. “Af’ari shta bari, sbat’af nari,” he shouted from the hallway connecting the lab and the nursery, already on his way. “Ass in one piece and unfucked. That's good luck in ‘Hasi.”

Alone at home, his mind stampeded almost immediately. He stumbled around the house, searching for a place he could hide in, considering the bathroom at first and thought otherwise given its size. Armando pinged with concern, following him around at a wide berth.

“I need a private room that isn't Ryland’s room or the bathroom. I need a mental health break. Where can I go?”

Armando took a while to process the query, turned around and wheeled around the kitchen towards a small room. Dvy flung the doorknob open to reveal a closet: long metal spare parts rested against the back wall, bits and pieces of xenonite on shelves, and some old Earth cleaning supplies. The closet was just deep enough for him to sit within with the door closed.

“Okay. Thank you. I need privacy, please.”

The bot swiveled once, twice, and headed back to its charging base.

Inside, Dvy pressed his back against the door and turned the lights off. The darkness worried him briefly, scared him almost, but what he was going to do next was something he wasn't proud of as a human person and something he needed to do without being able to look at himself.

He knew what this feeling was, it was a bodily demand for attention, and attention he would give it. Until then, he could wave all his focus goodbye.

It would have been embarrassing. It should have, too. Some closeness, the wrong breaths landing on the nape of his neck, the things Ryland had said and the way it was said. Dvy listed it all down in his head, snaking a hand over a desperate body part, promising himself that this would be a one and done. It might just be the problem he was having all along. Biological demand, yes? He's young, in his prime, part of a living species wired to continue passing down his genetic lineage by rewarding the process with arousal. He couldn't fault his body for it, but why in the name of all burnt stars must it happen while he was pipetting water? This was the only point of contention he had.

Just keep going. Can you do that for me? Right here...

Unceremonious was the rise and fall. In the dark, he cleaned up as best he could, stormed out (Armando was suddenly in front of the door, he was sure it left him before he locked himself in?), and took a very cold shower before taking Ryland's bedroom desk to work on the mill project.

Thankfully the little care session did help with his focus. Sharpened and feeling rather good about the prospects, he worked till late, and decided to take a nap on Ryland's bed, hoping to return to work after a few hours, work of which had now covered all of Ryland's desk with complex calculations and design specifications. He'd worked on them so intensely, that the side of his right hand was stained grey from pencil graphite from all his writing. Resting on his open laptop was what was left of his pencil -- an inch and a half stub of wood and lead.

His nap slipped slyly into a full sleep, once an alarm was ignored one too many times. Over the course of the night he subconsciously took his sweatpants and shirt off in a bid to get comfortable, and for the first time in a long while Dvy was finally able to sleep rather deeply without medication.

─────── SLEEPING IN RYLAND'S room has now become a normality. There was a huge unused desk there, and he was well enough that he no longer required the medical bed, which had now been folded out of the way by Armando; all the space the bed had taken up was now returned to a relaxing living room arrangement once more, which Dvylikh preferred. Both of them were preoccupied with their respective work in the next couple of days, but Dvy ensured that at every mealtime, he'd turn up at the lab with lunch in tow and make Ryland have it with him, sometimes edging near argumentative over it. And, like any well kept routine, this too became Dvy’s normal, something to be expected, something that brought him a profound sense of comfort.

The Earth, the Sun and the Moon. Oú sommes nous? 1910.

Grace could have at least pretended to feel guilty about vanishing for such extended periods of time, for burying himself in his work. But... he wasn't. Not as much as he probably should have been. Head in the clouds and his only real vice being work itself. Some things never changed and probably never would.

This was important, though. This was different. Lives hung in the balance of it all, Dvy's life and well-being hung in the balance. As much as he wanted to sit around holding hands and braiding hair and talking science, he needed to actually DO science. And if Dvy held that against him? Well, he wouldn't be the first.

❝ Now that you're at this stage of recovery, you can chase after me more. But... I won't make promises I can't keep. I can't just sit still when there's this... thing haunting you, haunting me. ❞ Especially something that HAD a solution, he knew it had a solution.

❝ Study plans. Outlines. Lessons. I teach a class, remember? And it's been put on indefinite hold until we've figured out this pathogenic fungi freak that has labeled me an involuntary member of this love triangle. That doesn't mean I'm going to just leave my students without anything. So... I do some outlines and I pass them on to-— to, y'know, I suppose they're my teacher's aid, my substitute-— I pass them over and they get taught in my stead or sent home with the pebbles depending on how hands-on the subject matter is. ❞

All the while Ryland was preparing a set of two tubes filled with simple water. ❝ I need to catch up with Rocky. I've been neglecting him worse than you. Why don't we have a little beach day? All three of us? ❞

There'd likely be no going in the water, but they could sit in the gravel-sand and talk and hang out. Ryland was aching to get Dvy and Rocky on the same page anyway; they hadn't had a chance to truly try and acclimate to each other since their first disastrous encounter.

❝ I'd be worried if you didn't mess up. It's fine, it's just water. I won't have you doing anything for real right out of the gate. ❞ He beckoned with his hand and drew Dvy in with a gloved hand on the back of his shoulder.

Grace proceeded to run through the basics: namely identifying all of the equipment and their parts.

❝ What you'll be using is called a pipette. I've already got the right one picked out and I've dialed in the volume, so don't worry about that this time around. ❞ He handed the device over and stood close, adjusted the man's hold on the tool until he was satisfied.

❝ We attached the pipette tip, like this-— ❞ He once more took Dvy's hand and guided it towards the collection of tips. ❝ Gently push. The tip will attached pretty easily. No need to ram it or jostle it around...yeah. Just like that. ❞

Grace removed his hand to scoot the tray away and to scoot the practice tubes in front of them. ❝ So you want to compress your control button here to the first stop. Mhhm. And go at a... ❞ He gently took Dvy's hand to adjust it. ❝ 90 degree angle and just barely submerge your tip and take your thumb off the button and give it a few seconds to draw the sample in. This is forward pipetting, by the way. It's going to be the most common method used. ❞

He gently held Dvy's wrist, anticipating the usual instinct to pull the device up. ❝ You're going to hold it steady and repeat the same process about three times. It's called pre-wetting. Funny name, right? ❞ Ryland thought he was doing a pretty good job of being instructive but not too grade school teacher. Or, at least he hoped he was.

❝ Then we're going to move it to the destination container. Right here. We're going to hold it at more of a...mmm, 20-45 degree angle now. Like... about like this. And make sure the tip is touching the wall. That's important. ❞ More gentle, ghostly puppeteering of the man's hand.

❝ Then we push it again. And then we blow out the rest of the liquid by pushing it down to the second stop. You'll feel it catch before that, just keep going until the button is fully compressed. ❞ Grace watched attentively, cool eyes sharp and focused on the task; he smiled as the water was dispensed and gave Dvy a pat on the shoulder.

❝ Good job. Since this is just practice and we're going to go right back into the same liquid, you don't have to worry about changing the tip. But, usually, you would by pressing down here. ❞ He thumbed at the area but did not actually utilize it.

He rested his elbows on the table and bent next to Dvy.

❝ Now you do this other tube of water by yourself. Can you do that for me? Do you need more to go over anything again before you try? ❞

Oh. Right. The class. That was worrying; he vaguely remembered Ryland telling him about it, but what else was new? His memory was shot after the incident, and this was yet another example of how poorly he had been since.

“Sorry, Ry. I can hardly remember you telling me about the classroom you teach,” he admitted freely. “I have a very good working memory, too good for my own good; and ever since AT-5, I can't recall some basic things anymore. I guess it's the concussion. But if I'm forgetting things again in a few months, please take it seriously.”

Dvy raised an eyebrow at the response Ryland gave him, and very openly gave him an eyeroll.

“I'm not a child that needs minding. Yes, you're a leading human expert in star eating worms and boulder shaped xenospecies and--” he gestured slightly at a microscope, “--molecular biology on Erid, but I know what I know and I know some things you don't. I appreciate that you wanted to keep me safe and not do a damn thing, injuries notwithstanding, but I can't sit still and watch you do everything on your own either.”

“And I can't do anything if you're not laying down any foundation for me to work on. There's no information as far as I know about Erid, for example, for me to know that they're sensitive to radiation. There's so many gaps in knowledge and you owe me those explanations, explanations you can't give me if you're out of reach and remain that way.” He turned to look fully at the scientist; he knew very well how to appeal to researchers so lost in their jobs they'd forgotten certain responsibilities they have. “I’ve been asking for parts to work with and all you've handed me thus far is a tablet and a laptop. I don't even know if I should be speaking to any Eridians by the airlock.”

Dvy swiveled in his stool to look at the consumables on the workbench. “You need a lesson plan for me too, it sounds like. All over the place and busy trying to chase… Chase what, exactly? The stationary, psychic fungus-flesh riddled submersible? You love being busy. I know what you are. That urgency is manufactured.” He lifted his head again. “With all due respect. If you let me in there with something that can be set on fire, it'll be over in,” Dvy shrugged and made a face. “Ten minutes. A project timeline with me in consideration, Ryland, or I make that timeline for you and you wouldn't like mine one bit.”

Thanks again, mom. Learnt how to say all that (manipulative facts included) as a five year old, by the way. Why'd they ask for a child when they're going to abandon him home with a nannybot anyway? Oh, right, the marriage.

All his charged negotiations seeped out of him the moment Ryland drew closer to teach him how to use the pipette. These seem mechanical with no electronic control like his mom used to have in her laboratory. He wondered about how they're cleaned and serviced, how Eridians managed to synthesise consumables for Ryland throughout his time here. It must be Eridians, yes? Simple things like isopropyl alcohol. How would they synthesise that? Did Ryland teach them? Have they known how to do that all along--

His breath caught as their hands met again over the pipette, the running theories tumbled away from him, possibly drifting around by the beach helplessly. His hand trembled on every push of the button, unsteady from the lack of practice and the closeness. Sick again; he felt so sick of how sick he would randomly feel whenever Ryland leaned against him. Was it heat? Carbon dioxide from his exhalation? Oxygen intake? Whatever it was, it gave him a flush so red his ears felt as if it would fall off his head.

Focus. FOCUS. He was silent through the demonstration and lesson. It took him a while to understand the plunger stops and what the pipette was actually doing, picturing the systems inside broken apart in his mind, component by component. How it was calibrated to know how much force is required to pull a very specific amount of liquid into the tip. A small, overengineered system made of a piston and a spring, definitely, each turn on the volume knob corresponding to---

“Thank you. You're a really good teacher,” Dvy commented as he transferred some water over into a few practice tubes as he was told. “I do prefer being taught this way, step by step, equipment in my hand and with you walking me through the process. Most people would toss a book at me and call it a day.” Most people being both moms and half of his teachers back on Eden. COI wardens notwithstanding. “It helps a lot. Thank you.”

He reversed the steps, drawing water out of the practice tubes back into the small container of water. “Science is fun and botany is second nature to me, but I really need to make something with my hands or I will start tearing Armando down.”

“Need to get that mill set up if it kills me. I don't think old Earth developed industrial mat-fabs like we've had. Saw some mentions of a thing called a 3D printer which is close but…” He snorted, “is a toy printer in comparison. I guess filaments are easier to manipulate and cheaper to produce. A toy printer is better than no printer. And I don't even have a fucking soldering iron. I don't know where to start. I know the Eridians can help me. I just don't know if I should or if I'm even allowed to. Not a single SOP around here understandably but I am utterly lost and overwhelmed.”

Ryland had scrunched his shoulders and shivered, a deliberate and melodramatic gesture. The idea of Dvy having his own version of Me-meat was...

❝ It took starvation, banging on death's door, and a lack of other options for me to indulge in my own. The variety would technically be wise but-— it would take me a bit to come around to. No offense. I'm sure your tissue tastes great, Dvy. ❞ What? It was only fair to return the compliment right? The really weird, super awkward compliment (how did you compliment someone's cloned tissue in a not weird way??).

❝ Hey, you're the one with 'beautiful' in your Eridian name. ❞ He set the container of samples down so he could step into his shoes. The cardigan he would leave this time; he'd just be shrugging right into a lab coat and PPE anyway. The door was open and he led Dvy outside; maybe the trek to the lab would give him time to reboot.

❝ I don't like to say 'I told you so'...I do, actually. A lot. Wish I had had more chances to say it back in the day. But, okay. I don't like saying it to YOU. But I kind of figured it'd go this way. I wanted to give you time and respect your choice but-— I fear it was always going to end with the Me-burgers. If only for a bit. There's two of us now and you're a plant whiz-— we'll figure it out. ❞ Ever the optimist.

UV would be tricky, HAD been tricky. It was why he and the Eridians didn't have it down pat already.

❝ It won't be easy. Especially since they're so sensitive to any sort of radiation. I couldn't shut Rocky up for a full fifteen minutes when I told him humans technically need a little of it to survive. I believe we get some light from their sun. But it's so little and it takes a lot just to grab it from the dense overhead atmosphere. It's... not enough, obviously. ❞

He had gestured vaguely above them. Most of the light was due to reflective panels. A little went a long way. When he'd been taken into Rocky's ship, his single flashlight had illuminated far more than what seemed possible; their refraction and reflection technology was remarkable.

With his free hand, he'd turned to grab for Dvy's hand when they hit the patch of the walk he himself had taken an embarrassing amount of stumbles at; he released it shortly after once they reached the lab.

❝ I'm sure Armando is going to love berating me with its new voice. Thanks for being so tech-savvy. I hadn't even thought to look into any of that. Obviously, that sort of stuff isn't exactly my focus field. ❞ Ryland struggled to use touch-screens sometimes; he was NOT a tech-bro.

The lab lights slowly filtered on and he went to store the samples so he could then go and grab for his equipment. Goggles, gloves, coat.

❝ I am not always leaving you alone, oh my goodness. You're leg is still healing. I'm sorry I haven't been dragging you every which way and not giving it a chance to heal right. ❞ He rolled his eyes and kicked up the door to the attached nursery and propped the door open.

❝ I need to work on some at-home lesson plans when we're done today and then run them to the air lock. Want to come with me? I don't want to leave you at home and come back to torn up furniture. ❞ Grace began his usual setting up process and paused, looked over his shoulder. ❝ Did you want to... learn any of this? ❞

A wide and sweeping gesture to his pipette equipment he'd prepped. His initial goal was to look into Dvy's blood and try and pick apart just what exactly made it different, if there was anything noticeable that did. Frankly speaking, Grace was still running with the theory that this thing had just been surviving on scraps in its environment and the introduction to a yummy, complex organism like a human had put some pep into its murderous step.

❝ I can set up a practice tube for you. It's not the hard, I swear. Not to encourage you taking my job here soon or anything... ❞ He was a lonely scientist on a planet and furthermore, a teacher. Sharing knowledge and talking about his craft was practically necessary or he'd explode.

❝ Grab some gloves and come here. ❞

“Yes, you are. You say you'll be back home and it's usually the day after.” Dvy answered rather monotonously, but he was trying his best to be difficult about it. He would lie if asked, even to himself, but he knew that he couldn't really cope parting with Ryland in the next couple of days -- if only because he was worried that the creature might snatch his mind the way it did Dvy the other day.

There was absolutely no need for hands to be holding down the small path to the lab and nursery, but when it was offered to him, Dvy was quick to take them and turned his head away shyly, following Ryland carefully up the small slope. His hand felt so broad and warm in his own; Dvy wasn't sure if he'd ever held anyone's hand before. Not another man, certainly. It felt odd, he didn't know what to do with his fingers, and simply returned the grasp, hoping to his birth stars that he was doing it right.

“Oh, I’d piss on your bed if you leave me again. Wait -- study plans? What do you mean?” Dvy sat on a stool near a workbench. “I know you're a teacher but, who are you sending lessons to? Rocky didn't seem to need help from the looks of things. And the whole save-the-planet thing he did clued me in on his intelligence.”

“Last time I went down to the beach, the meat factory churned me like mince. I need to get the hell out of the house, I'm going stir crazy lying down all day, but I'd rather go out there with you.” A long pause. “I, uh… You know, I've never seen a beach before. Only in wet holodecks. Not the same, obviously.”

Dvy stared blankly at the scientist, blinked twice, and stirred again. “I-- me? I've -- I've only ever seen my moms do it,” he said quietly. “Uh. Are you sure I can do this without any qualification?”

“What if I mess it up?” There was urgency in his voice, but he pondered the box of gloves on the table regardless, and failed to resist its call. He washed his hands in a sink, dried them as much as he could, and wore his gloves as he was told.

can we please acknowledge this more its so funny to me

When a scientist asked for your blood and told you it'd be:

1.) Quick.

2.) Painless.

3.) Not even that much, just a small sample.

Do NOT, I repeat, do not fall for their lies and their deceit. It would be none of the above!! Ryland Grace could be the moon to Dvy's sun for all of eternity and that would not change the fact that he was a dirty, dirty scientist.

In the grand scheme of things, thirteen sample bottles was not that much! A few tablespoons at most, pfft. It was, however, way more than just one or 'just a small sample' as he had initially worded the request.

Ryland had taken up position behind Dvy, legs halfway boxing him in so he could be close enough to fuss with his hair. LEARNING to braid, he'd said. Once again, a scientist and their nasty lies! Grace knew how to braid. Sort of. Okay, he knew how to braid very badly. In his defense, he was working with a smaller amount of hair which meant a smaller margin for error. Lot of hair meant big breads, meant less room to mess it up.

❝ I'm oddly okay with blood after that whole nightmare debacle. Yours specifically, I mean. Weird. ❞ He could understand Dvy's discomfort. The medical field had come a long way even at the point he'd left Earth, but it still felt so antiquated even compared to how Eridians operated.

So many gaps in his own equipment from Mary had been subsequently filled in by them. Amazing to think about considering just how little of their composition was comprised of organic material in comparison to the likes of him or Dvy.

❝ Be still. A master is at work. ❞ He scolded with a small tug to a half-finished and incredibly frayed braid near the pterion portion of his skull. This was all for Dvy's benefit; Grace had eyeballs and he had a (usually) well-working brain. He'd noticed how his companion had reacted to anything to do with his hair. Maybe it was a bit malicious, but yeah, yeah he was totally using this to keep his patient relaxed and cooperative.

Also, maybe he enjoyed a bit himself. Whatever. Oooh, going to tell on him? To who, huh? Exactly.

❝ I'm fine. I'm ready to work. If I stick around here and laze about any longer I'm going to star gnawing at the walls. ❞ He buzzed with that restless energy that so often plagued him. He needed to get to the lab and pursue some of these tests to drum up more theories or to expand upon his existing ones.

❝ I'm going to the lab, not the site. You can come with me if you feel up to it. I know I'm draining you dry over here. ❞ Said to the tune of 'Oh, you poor thing.'

If this Fungi Freak (currently working theory) thrived on his excitement, then so be it. They'd start up some circuit loop and blow each other to smithereens. Ryland was excited by the unknown, excited by the pursuit of it and by the possibility of making the unknown known. If this thing was excited by HIS excitement, then he was excited over its excitement of his excitement. Say that fives times fast.

‘Unidentified request.’

His movements stalled and he rumbled a laugh. The braid was finished (poorly) and he went about wrapping up his charade by simply scooping the rest of Dvy's hair into a practical bun. ❝ Man. I'll get it one day. ❞ A wistful and dramatic sigh followed... hey remember how Grace himself had established he was NOT a good actor? Yeah.

❝ When did you set Armando up with a voice box? ❞ Grace reached around to take the arm in his hand from where he sat, his main fingers supporting the appendage itself from beneath while his thumb gently held the cotton ball in place over the injection site.

With his other hand, he reached around the puppeteer Dvy's other appendage until he had him holding the cotton himself. Ryland smashed a quick kiss to the side of his head as he rose to gather up the sample, uttering a: ❝ You did good. So brave. ❞ The crack of a lop-sided smirk conveyed that though not openly flirtatious, it had been intended to be a bit of a dick move. Just a little joking around. Evil scientist, remember? Evil, evil, evil.

❝ Armando is fine. It's actually very impressive considering what stage of technology we were at. Don't be too tough on it. It has saved both our lives like... multiple times. ❞ The samples were all herded into a cooler for the short transport from the house to his little lab.

❝ You don't have to come with me. You can stay here and relax, you know. ❞ He stood before Dvy and offered a hand to help him up regardless.

The rules could have been written in blood all across Ryland’s walls in fifty different languages. Dvylikh would even potentially heed them, up until he met up with said scientist, looked at him straight into his stupid blue eyes for a few beats, and blithely agree to his every ask. Dvy’s the kind of person who violently meant every word he says, so it came as no surprise that he allowed himself to be, quite literally, wrapped around Ryland’s fingers.

Even when he knew he was falsely led into it, like a pet on a leash. “Nothing says love quite like gore and cannibalism, right,” he rumbled, “after a time it’s just not enough to have them contained in the meatsack. I’m glad you’re okay with it. I guess the crux is to have the upper hand on things that it’d twist to break you. Obviously, if it ever comes down to it, you have my consent to eat my meburger for a change.” All this was said in a grumble, clearly displeased that he was misled into a braiding session that turned grimly into a visit to the doctor’s. “Me. I’m… not fussed.”

“I’m still getting to grips with the concept of meat in general. I’m sure you’re quite delicious, I mean, I have eyes,” he shrugged, “probably lean, but it got to me first before I had a chance to experience it. Maybe I’ll slowly get into it. I’m losing mass rapidly,” he held up his other arm, “and we’re nowhere near the seedling stage yet. The light source isn’t as bright -- or should I say, it doesn’t have enough UV radiation in it to trigger photosynthesis for some of the species I’m testing out at home. Youburger might just have to work in the meantime.”

A stream of consciousness was their primary mode of conversation lately. Anything and everything came to mind, since they both knew they could follow each other’s sprawling network of thoughts, and be able to expand on it or dangle away to another thought process seamlessly. “I found some UV lights in your box of toys. We need more of that, but I don’t know if a species of boulders with no eyes could even build something I assume they can’t perceive -- can they even see? Us? We need radiation, ugh, what a funky word to be saying after everything, for the plants to grow well.”

He let out a long, whiny groan at Ryland’s mocking tone. “You’re so fucking mean sometimes. Lab’s good, I think I need to look at something green for a change. I’ll come along with you.” Spun around to face the scientist, he continued. “You left the debug mode on, it was never locked down, and it gave me access to its ports readily. Talk about operational security hazards. So I fucked around with the settings. It looks like it had a speech module set up, but it was set up as if it was meant to take orders from a mother -- Armando was in a daughter mode. Anyways, it already came preloaded with some semblance of artificial intelligence, I just lifted access for Armando here and there---”

The kiss fried the capacitors in his brain and his long ramble stopped to a halt. His whole body reacted to the teasing, hair standing up on his neck like he’d experienced a frisson of a live wire petting at his mortal coil.

“---the-. Uhm.” He cleared his throat. “Yes.. It’s preloaded. With um. Medical. Stuff.”

❝ I think it's sweet that even when pushed to the brink... you guys were still so-— intimate? Caring. You know what I mean. ❞ Obviously not everything was sunshine and rainbows, but at least they'd held onto some semblance of humanity. Even on his Earth he'd seen what certain levels of desperation could do to someone. Whatever he thought of his own behavior, he'd seen worse.

❝'Hasi. Cool. You'll have to teach me some of it while we go through this crappy story arc. The after, you can actually teach me. ❞ The scientist yawns into his arm pillow and allowed his eyes to fall closed again as he listened to Dvylikh go on. God, he loved listening to him talk. Ryland had such a mouth on him, talked so much... it was nice to be the one that listened for a change (even if his brain was constantly bubbling with interjections to make).

❝ Prion diseases? Oh man. I don't like to hear that even an alternate grouping of humans waaay in our future also haven't figured out how to fix those. They're nightmares. ❞ Grace had shifted some to get more comfortable and then had stopped, frozen. Ah, biology. What a wonder you were! You know, statistically, you actually experienced about three to five erections per night but most people were usually aware of the one you woke up to. Fun fact!

He felt more awkward about potentially putting Dvy in an uncomfortable situation than he did about the situation itself. Grace settled where he was and made it a point to not shift around further. The body tended to relax out if rather quickly once you'd awoken.

An apology played on his lips but he swallowed it down. It was better to just not acknowledge this things and even better not to lift his head to try and search for any sort of obvious reaction. Why did he even want to pursue that right now? Why at all? Bad, bad, bad.

❝ Golly, Mr. Martian. Wonder what other sorta filth you got up in that head. ❞ He rumbled a laugh and then groaned low, the sort of groan that was that of a defeated man. Yeah, okay. He wanted to stay in bed longer than five more minutes.

❝ You drive a very hard bargain, Dvylikh. But you've got yourself a deal. ❞

He shifted his head to turn, to peek from his fortress of folded arms. A smile played on his lips, tired and lazy but warm and firm.

❝ An hour. And then we do so much science our heads spin. ❞

“Is that not what love is for? To carry humanity forth. We left Earth out of love, we huddled around Mars out of love. It ensures our continuity.” Dvy answered, then yawned. “Like I said, moonrise, I’d hand you the sun in my hands if you wanted it. I’ll teach you ‘Hasi,’ and you’ll teach me biology. Despite appearances, I’m not very good at it. I just---” he yawned again, “---parrot what I remember from texts I read…”

The shock from earlier had worn Dvy down fast, and as they lay in silence, sinking further into the bed, sleep engulfed him before he could even give a retort to Ryland’s rhetorical question. Lots! Lots of filth in his mind. Sure, he’d never acted on it, but growing up with a cast of colourful people brigged for various crimes over the course of two decades, he’d picked up enough to know what he liked and what he didn’t. Wasn’t sure where it’d lead him now that there’s just Ryland and himself on Erid, but Ryland better not ask this question again or he’d entertain him with a full answer. A small smile lifted on his face at the thought.

Yes, yes. More science at ten. Thirteen samples, and a rock in a sock. Ryland, you have a one-track mind, with a shuttle service headed straight into the ever-expanding edge of the universe. What a pleasure to follow you for a ride.

“…’eis th’av milu,” he whispered.

Ryland felt like he'd run a marathon. Even as he began to calm, it still felt like he couldn't get enough air. It took deliberate focus to train it back into something more manageable and maybe that itself had aided to his growing calm. In the meantime, he allowed himself to be comforted without thought. It was near instinctual in the way he burrowed into the warmth until he was pried away to be looked over.

His cheeks were ruddy from the distress, eyes reddened. He cast his gaze down and away. But he needed to look at Dvy. He needed to see his face whole and intact and alive. His breath shuddered again at that very sight and he felt new tears well, relief and... something else.

Anger. He felt the anger and the frustration bubbling in him. Dvy thumbed at his tears and drew him in again and said such sweet and comforting things. Home. Loved. Ryland swallowed wetly and pressed his forehead against the man's shoulder.

❝ I know. I know it... it wasn't even one of my nightmares. There was-— nothing in my subconscious that should have spurred that. ❞ The more of recalled it, the more stupid and nonsensical it had been. It felt like a collection of places and themes had been drawn at random from a hat of horror for some macabre show of improv. Ryland laughed bitterly and nuzzled further against Dvy.

His breathing slowed again and the tears began to dry and stay dried.

❝ What does that mean? Is that... Martian? Is it called Martian? Or...❞ He laughed again, low and hoarse. ❝ What's your language even called, Dvy? I like it. It sounds... it fits you. ❞ He slid his hands up to frame Dvy's face. He looked apologetic now.

❝ This doesn't usually happen, I swear. I mean... the nightmares happen. But they're just annoying at this point? But the throwing up... that is NOT the usual. I am sooo sorry. Just give me a minute and I'll get it cleaned up. ❞ His hand gave Dvy's face a gentle pat and he let his hands fall into his lap, one coming to drag up into his hair from the back; he sighed.

❝ That was not cool. I'm...❞ he spread his hands out wordlessly and the brought them together again, not quite in a clap but in a grasped position. ❝ I kind of want to put a bunch of xenonite in a sock and go down there and beat it to death. What was that? Is that what it does to you? The... jesus. There was so much blood. ❞

Grace's face fell and he allowed a hand to trace toward to Dvy's stomach where he'd pulled the meat from in his nightmare. It was warm and alive and sealed and fine. It was fine. Dvy was fine. ❝ I'd killed you, I assume. That happened off camera at some point. I'd been eating you for awhile. No sense to it at all. What a stupid, stupid nightmare. God. Like a mid-tier terror house during Halloween. I'm so... ha, ha. God! I'm so peeved off over it! ❞

He tipped his head back in a long groan and lifted the hand to wipe at his own eyes once more to rid them of the absolute last of any evidence of the night's events.

❝ Dumb idiot, maybe-fungi. Some of us have work to do, some of us need to sleep. ❞ Grace wanted nothing more than to flop back down and pass out again. Unlike most, he was perfectly fine with going right back to sleep once he'd fully established a nightmare had been just that. But, uggggh, the pile of yuck still needed to be tended to.

❝ Okay. Alright. Watch out... ❞ He wriggled free from Dvy and crawled over him into a transitional straddle so he could then tip-toe carefully down onto the ground and outside of any of the splash zone. The sun was up at least; maybe he'd just get up and get busy. The urge to curl up and sleep all of this away aside, he sure did have another fire lit under his can now! No one put Baby in the cannibal-nightmare corner and got away with it.

❝ Did you sleep OK? I mean... before um... ❞ He made a vague gesture and swallowed with a grimace as he went abut breathing through his mouth as he took the warm rag and the existing dry towel to in combination clean up his own bile. His grimace remained even as he plopped both into the bucket and then took said bucket to sit well out of kicking over range. He stepped off into the bathroom just long enough to wash his hands. He'd deal the rest of everything once a shower had been had and he wasn't still so groggy.

For the time being, he crawled right back into the bed and situated Dvy down until he could succinctly use his chest as a pillow to cross his arms over. Was this weird? By Earth standards, probably. They had some reaaaal hang-ups with people just enjoying the contact for the hell of it or the need of it (as if humans didn't intrinsically need it no matter the gender!!). But who cares? Dvy seemed fine with supplying it and Grace was sure as heck fine with taking it. Comfort was comfort and the physical touch economy was in shambles right now.

❝ It really, really does not want you with me. Screaming at me about stealing you away and then giving me a cannibal dream. Yeah, OK, pal. Someone hasn't read enough freaky Earth literature. Cannibalism is like... a huge literary metaphor for love and devotion. ❞ He snorted into his own folded arms and nuzzled into them there where they rested on Dvy.

❝ I don't really align with it. A bit too obsessive and destructive for me. I like my love to just be... I don't know. ❞ He couldn't say he'd ever felt love, not in the way most did or most assumed they should through their lives. But he wasn't an idiot. He had some concept of it, some rendition of it based from bits and pieces from here and there. One could know what love was without knowing love, also a big misconception.

❝ Comfortable. Easy. I mean, not too easy. Warm. Safe-— ❞ Giddily, he thought, like the sun. Like a star. Love, to him, was something that should feel like how the sun felt on your face.

❝ Five minutes and then I'm going to shower. And you're gonna shower. And we're going to eat. And then... dude, I'm taking your frickin' blood. ❞

There goes the hope that it wasn’t a progression of the infection (if this was an infection; otherwise mass hysteria might fit rather snugly here, propagated by the gruesome images of the submersible coated with what they’d established to be human flesh), but if he was patient zero, Ryland would still keep his wits and brain yet to see more tests through. Hell, maybe even solve it -- whatever solution might look like when it comes to a horror-myco-meat entity.

“It means ‘come home to my heart’. We call upon love in Eden when people are distraught from nightmares. There’s a condition in space where you fall into a catatonic state at random; it’s a guaranteed, prolonged nightmare sequence. The body is trying to wake up from it, a survival mechanism.” Dvy pressed a soft kiss against Ryland’s temple. “When the person regains their consciousness, it’s customary to express our love and be present in the moment. Nightmares always make you feel empty and hated. Which you are certainly, factually, objectively not.”

He chuckled as Ryland’s engines began to return to their normal churning. All the talking and all the questions, though he frowned at the description of the nightmare. The anger is quite understandable, to a very personal degree no less -- now it leaves very little wonder why Dvy had opted to call it a huge, stinking sack of utter pieces of shit and it felt so good to feel so vindicated in his vindictiveness.

“Spacer Martian, decidedly not part of the homeworld Martian language. It’s called ‘Hasi,’” he answered, watching Ryland slip out of bed to tend to the floor. Dvy rose, wanting so badly to tell Ryland to leave it and return to bed, but he knew more than anyone that some things were best left alone. The cleanup is part of the… experience, sadly enough. Physically cleaning up will allow the body and the mind to catch up and dispense the relief hormones it needs to calm down and counter all the buildup of stress. Thanks, Mom. “Spaceborns have their own cultures and languages, and dialects in said languages. We’ve been in space for at least a hundred years or so, after all.”

“I could do with an hour more of sleep,” Dvy answered, partially true, partially to open up the possibility (or, if needed, an excuse) for Ryland to return to bed, which seemed to have worked: the scientist disappeared only to return all up on his chest and around him in bed.

Shyly, Dvy shifted when he felt himself squished between two navels as Ryland jostled over him for comfort, but there wasn’t much else to do other than accept that Ryland was going to have to live with it. It wasn’t as if he could move it elsewhere. “Um. Yes. We, uh,” he closed his eyes and tried to breathe normally, “have a lot of those types of films back home too. Cannibalism is frowned upon and is heavily propagandised as such. Cosmic radiation meant that about one in seven Martians carry a likelihood of PRNP mutations or prion misfolds that may cause prion disease -- but love as an all-encompassing greed is too good of a throughline to give up on. I suppose some concepts simply are universal.”

Science, science, science. He wished he was two notches stupider than Ryland sometimes; but he feared if he was, he’d be a stuttering mess right now, unable to carry a conversation. Is this even a conversation, talking about spongiform encephalopathy with a friend who had just survived a nightmare about eating Dvy raw? Goodness preserve you, Dvylikh… “Maybe it did read enough of it in my head and thought it was sweet. Different boats, and all that.”

He could not help but smile at the description of what sort of love Ryland would entertain. He’d have thought the man would say something like an eventful, power-jog type of affection, bursts of energy in the morning and long hours staring at an electron microscope, or pipetting microlitres of liquid all day and all night. Suppose even a biologist’s concept of love is just as any.

“Me too,” he answered softly, his turn to bury his fingers in Ryland’s mop of hair. The poor thing was damp with cold sweat and he relished the feeling of how much life there was suddenly around his body. Pleasantly heavy, breathing against him, warm, safe---