lozza

tell me about it!! i search high and low for smut of him and i find NOTHING. there’s a shortage going on and it needs to be fixed.

hi! i’m also very new to posting here so to hear that you enjoy what i’m doing is so lovely, thank you from the bottom of my heart 🥹

i’ve got a one shot in the works but i can’t say exactly when it’ll be coming out! i need to lock in and get writing asap

but… here’s some headcannons for you guys in the mean time:

SFW & NSFW

ryland grace who never knows whether you’ll show up late or early. there are days you stroll in an hour before class, usually when you don’t have the morning shift at work, and fool around with him until you need to find your seat. but, there are also days where you rush in half an hour after class has started. you tumble through the door juggling textbooks, coffee, and your battered phone that is extremely outdated.

chaotic!reader who has the most shaky hands ever. from all the caffeine you digest, it’s only reasonable that it takes a toll on your body. so, every movement is jittery and quick. your classmates start to ask if you’re experiencing an earthquake inside. once ryland notices how you can’t seem to be still, he makes an effort to hold your hands and rub your shoulders when he can. it grounds you, and even if only for a moment, it seems to make you slow down a little.

ryland grace who gets extremely jealous when frat boys talk to you. you tell him constantly that they only mess with you and never have any… romantic intentions, but he disagrees. because you’re beautiful, and although you are strange, people can’t deny your looks. so, even though you believe that the only reason boys talk to you is to make fun of you, ryland knows better. and when he finally gets you to himself, he makes sure that you know that no college boy could ever make you feel how he makes you feel.

chaotic!reader who’s only place of relaxation is the couch is ryland’s office. your dorm is full of unfinished assignments and empty coffee cups, and everytime you look around your bedroom you feel a wave of anxiety rush through you. so, you started finding ryland in his office between lectures and lying on his couch when you talked to him. gradually, lying on the couch became napping on it. and he doesn’t have the heart to tell you that is inappropriate in his work place, so he just watches you sleep peacefully.

ryland grace who makes sure you relax after a stressful shift. he’ll place you on top of his desk in the lecture hall, and kiss you until your brain is already mushy. he’ll push you back gently so that your back is on the wood, and spread your legs to make room for himself. his pace is always ruthless when you need a stress reliever, because he only wants you thinking about how he feels inside of you. not the rude customers at rush hour, or how your coworker “accidentally” dropped a latte on you when pushing past. only on how hard he thrusts into you, and all the sweet praise he whispers into your ear as he does so.

chaotic!reader who likes to corner ryland after class. early on into your relationship, he’d emphasise how terrible he was for doing this to you, and how easy it would be for him to lose his job if someone found out. so, there were days where he would turn you away and tell you to go back to your dorm and finish assignments. but when there’s too much tension and stress inside of you, you need to find a way to release it. which means you’d have to corner him at his desk, begging and demanding that he finishes what he started. every single time, it ended with him unbuttoning his jeans and pulling you into his lap, saying “this is the last time, okay?”

ryland grace and chaotic!reader who have a thread of emails that seem professional on his end. if a staff member were to read through them, they’d most likely think that Dr Grace was just dealing with a student who overshares. but in reality, you and ryland have come up with some kind of formal flirting through email. you like to tease him, emailing at ungodly hours about personal things while he forgets to breathe on the other side of the screen. you’re too risky for his liking, but he’ll always reply with something that encourages you. for example…

reader: could i stay after class today?

grace: what for?

reader: the reproductive system

grace: that’s not on the curriculum. why should i teach you about that?

reader: you already taught me, professor. i thought maybe i could do a presentation for you.

meanwhile ryland has already decided to cut class short today just to make time for you.

this is not proof read

reader who is hanging on by a thread. you’re a complete mess, working overtime at your shitty underpaid job, where sorority girls and frat boys come just to make fun of you. you’re not socially accepted, because you’re too loud and honest to fit into any group. but you tell yourself it’s fine. it doesn’t matter. because your favourite professor, the only one who makes you feel like you have a chance in life, is there to relieve your stress everyday.

grace doesn’t care that everyone thinks your weird. he thinks your beautiful, and that you just haven’t figured life out yet. he’s there to help you with that, though. he’ll ask what you’re planning on doing after graduation while you’re bent over his desk and are being pushed further and further into it as he thrusts into you. he’ll ask some questions that are relevant to your next paper while he’s two fingers deep inside you, with another couple circling your clit. he’ll even ask how your job is going while your legs are wrapped around his waist and you can feel his cock so far inside you, you swear you’ve finally found some peace in your life.

and grace will always come to the coffee shop you work at. every morning, without fail, he’ll show up and order a simple coffee just to see you. he can make them at college, or at home. but he chooses to come and see you. and he will always tip more than he can afford, because he knows what it’s like to be a student scraping by. it’s part of the reason he agreed to this arrangement with you. he knows how stressful it is, and he wished he could’ve had someone who let him relax every now and then. he’s glad he can be that for you.

and grace never looks at you like you’re anything less than perfect. when everyone else watches you like you’re a jittery, stupid mess, he sees that you’re trying your best as a playful young person in a world that isn’t ready for you. so when he sees all the snickers and dirty looks you get during presentations, he makes sure to praise you even more when he’s fucking you after class. because you deserve to be treated well. you deserve to have your brain shut off for a while when it’s so full all of the time. you deserve to be filled up another way.

RYLAND GRACE x READER

summary on the brink of an impossible mission, you and ryland are left to navigate everything you’ll never get the chance to have.

word count 10.2k

genre angst + smut + fluff

warnings female! reader, scientist! reader, reader is emotionally unavailable, idiots in love, smut smut smut, fingering, small amount of oral, p in v, unprotected sex, cumming inside, crying while fucking, reader kinda hates herself, ryland loves reader a lot, major character death, follows canon storyline

a/n i wrote this in a day. i’m so obsessed with ryan gosling, i ended up writing the longest one shot i have ever written in 24 hours. im so locked in. is this what crack feels like?

also, i do not hate eva stratt. i love her. this is written from readers point of view and she is just frustrated with life.

and yes, the title is a phoebe bridgers song. i suggest you listen to it around the middle of this fanfic.

cross posted to ao3 @ifoundgodinthevoid

Damn Eva Stratt. The phrase repeats in your head over and over as you observe the man standing in front of you. He is just doing his job, as you should be, but he’s so distracting. You don’t want to admit it, but he’s keeping you from your work.

You stand there, attempting to look thoughtful and focused, but your eyes linger on his arms. You appreciate the humour of his shirts, but you don’t mind the way they make his biceps look either.

You try to snap out of it. You’re going to space, and you’re going to leave him behind here. You can’t afford to be distracted in this way, especially by someone you could never have. Well, you could have him. You just couldn’t keep him.

It’d be wrong for you to even try. Launch is only four days away, and although the idea is tempting, there’s no point. A night of passion and happiness for you could make him the most miserable man on Earth while you’re gone.

Grace feels everything so deeply and wears his emotions on his sleeve. You’d be evil to make that a bad thing. You could have him hooked around your finger all the way from space, decades into the future. He’d follow you anywhere, that’s the problem.

He doesn’t try to hide it anymore, which just makes it worse. He knows that you know how he feels, and he doesn’t care. He just wants you.

Damn Eva Stratt. She is the one who is stopping you from this. If you could, you’d tell him that the feeling is mutual and then love him for the rest of your life. But, if you don’t do the job she gave you, the rest of your life would be short and depressing. And if you were to love Ryland Grace, you’d want him to be the happiest man in the world. You just can’t give him that, no matter what you do. In every conclusion, he will be sad and lonely.

As you curse Stratt in your head, you realise he’s been staring back. For how long, you don’t know. But he’s smiling at you, and he’s looking at you with so much love and admiration that it makes you sick. God, how could someone like him even look at you like that? You’re a terrible mix of selfish and selfless, and you’d much rather die than label yourself as one or the other.

He has stopped everything he was doing, and is now just looking at you. You flush, which isn’t your usual reaction, but it is the only one you can manage. He smiles a little harder at that, which makes you smile behind your hands. Could you be any more pathetic? The two of you, acting like teenagers in a coming of age, while the risk of becoming extinct creeps closer. Okay, maybe you’re selfish. You’ve been called worse.

“Why are you hiding?” He asks, with a voice so sweet it could be made of honey.

You don’t respond. You place your elbows on the counter, and giggle into your hands at the absurdity of this situation. You, a world class scientist, have become a babbling idiot at a man who wears his glasses like a beard.

You hear him laugh. The sound is a little muffled from your perspective, but it sounds as beautiful as birds waking you in the morning. You wish he would be the one to wake you each morning. Oh, shut up. You are becoming increasingly frustrated at your brain.

Damn Eva Stratt. Damn her for making you work with this man, and damn her for sending you away from him.

Damn Eva Stratt. Damn Eva Stratt.

“Damn Eva Stratt.” You tell him.

He huffs, “Sure.”

You bring your hands from your face and look at him now. He looks unimpressed, but amused at the same time.

“What? You disagree?”

“No.”

You say nothing. You keep looking at his face, searching for any indication that he is lying. All you find is an upwards tug on his lips and a tired look beneath his eyes. That’s fair, you think. You both haven’t slept in a day or two.

“I think she’s doing the best with what she’s got.”

“Sounds like a dig at me, Ryland.” You smirk.

His eyes widen and he immediately shakes his head. You were only joking, but he seems to panic at the idea that he hurt your feelings.

“What? No! I just think that this is a pretty bad situation, and you have to do some bad to get some good, right?” He defends.

“And you’re, like, the best scientist I’ve ever met…”

“What was that?”

“Hmm?”

He looks up to meet your teasing eyes, and you both smile at each other. You scrunch your nose playfully, before looking back down to continue your work. He takes a little longer to get back on task, more focused on the structure of your face than what he is supposed to be doing.

He thinks you’re beautiful. He’s told you more times than you can count, and you have to ignore him. You wish that he would understand why, but he doesn’t. All he sees is how you refuse to let him love you the way he’d like to. It’s for good reason, though. He has to realise that. He is smart enough to know that you are prioritising the mission here.

But, it kills you. You wish that you could be selfish here. Sometimes, you let yourself contemplate what life would be like with him.

You would wake up entangled from the night before. You’d be warm, flushed, and settled against his chest. The sun would be slowly rising by the time you opened your eyes, and the light would bleed over his perfect face as he sleepily looked up at you. You’d be the first to move, and he’d try to keep you for a little longer, but you’d persist and eventually get him up too.

The two of you would make breakfast in the kitchen, probably something mature like eggs and toast, or bacon with coffee. And you’d eat next to each other, talking about your plans for the day and what you were going to do together that night. It wouldn’t be fancy, just a movie night on the couch that you share.

But, it couldn’t happen. Even if you didn’t go on this suicide mission, the world would collapse before you could think to buy an apartment together. You have to let the rest of the world enjoy those luxuries. Ryland will be able to live that dream out, with a woman who can love him like you want to.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks.

He’s clearly been watching you. He notices how your face moves and all your tells now. He knows you. It’s a scary thought, because he is going to be the last person who will. Part of that is almost comforting. At least he will remember you kindly. Not selfish, but as a hero.

“You.” You answer.

It’s blunt, but it’s true. You are always thinking of him. He’s the only thing that feels worth thinking of.

“Me? Why?”

He sounds surprised, like he didn’t expect you to admit it. Neither did you, if you were being honest. He makes being vulnerable seem so easy. You hate that.

“What else is there to think about?” You smile. It comes out a little too flirty.

Strangely, he doesn’t think about it.

“Well…” He sighs.

He wants to talk about how you’re being sent to space to die.

You’ve never understood why people feel so inclined to talk about feelings all the time. You don’t want to talk about how terrified you are, and how scary it is that you might be the reason the whole population goes extinct. It would just make you even more anxious.

He doesn’t get that, though. He loves to talk about his feelings. He tells you about them all the time. And you enjoy it, really. You like to hear how he thinks and how he watches the world go by. It’s calming.

You don’t finish his sentence for him. You don’t want to, because it would lead to an uncomfortable conversation that you would hate to have. He’s looking at you, though. He expects you to confide in him.

You open your mouth, and he perks up.

“It’s fine. It’s my job.” You tell him.

“Doesn’t mean it isn’t terrible.” He huffs.

“It’s not. It’s just how it is.”

“Well, I wish it was different.”

You look at each other. You hesitate, because so do you. You wish this wasn’t the situation, but it is. And you have to come to terms with it. You have no choice anymore. He can’t stop this, and neither can you. There is no point in entertaining the idea that something can happen.

“Grace.” You sigh, fidgeting with some samples.

You sound like an exasperated parent, telling their child off for the thousandth time. It’s quite accurate, actually. You’ve had a conversation like this many times. He just doesn’t understand why you won’t let him have you while he can.

“What? Can I not tell you that I wish you weren’t being sent on a suicide mission?”

You chuckle at him, “You can tell me whatever you want.”

He pauses, letting out a shaky breath. That sound makes you nervous. You look at him, and he’s staring at you. Very intensely.

He looks like he is deciding something.

“I love you.” He blurts.

Your eyes widen. Well, he’s never said that before. He’s told you that you’re beautiful, and that you’re the most amazing human he has ever known, and that he is a very lucky man to be in your presence, but never that.

Damn Eva Stratt.

“What?” You say quietly.

“I-” He starts, but then grumbles something incoherent.

“Don’t say that.”

It comes out harshly, and you didn’t mean it to. But, he’s frustrating you. And he needs to understand that you can’t give in to all your desires. Especially when it’s your home at stake.

He opens his mouth, but shuts it again. He looks defeated, and a little ashamed. Good, you think. He shouldn’t have said that.

“Why would you tell me that, Grace? What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Say it back.” He retorts. He sounds surer than he looks.

“No. Why should I?”

“Because you should be honest.”

You scoff.

“What? Is it not true?”

You roll your eyes, but they fall back to him. His posture is straighter, but he looks nervous. In fact, he looks exhausted. Not because of the lack of sleep, but because of how you hide from him.

“Can you just say it, please? Make me feel like I’m not crazy?”

He sounds so desperate. You can’t believe you do this to him.

“Grace…”

“Please?”

You exhale, looking at him. He’s like a puppy. So in need of love and affection, and always looking for it in the wrong place. You wish he would find any other woman to beg for. Actually, just the thought of that hurts you. But, you have no right to be jealous. If he can’t have you, he should be able to have someone else.

“I can’t- I…” You stutter.

Why are you stuttering? You never stutter. You are so confident. What is happening?

He gets up from his lab stool and crosses over to you. You back away, still mumbling and trying to find the right words. He looks concerned, but hopeful. He shouldn’t be hopeful. You shouldn’t have let him feel that way.

He says your name like it’s something worth holding onto. It slips off his tongue like it was always there, and it fills the air with a heaviness that you’ve never felt before.

He places his hands on your shoulders gently, holding you from running out the door. He is looking right at you. Into your soul, past all the lies and fears, and to the deepest part of you. And he loves it. He loves every part of you, even when he shouldn’t.

“Just tell me, please.”

Are you crying? Your eyes feel full and something is running down your face. Whatever it is, Grace’s thumb wipes it away. And now, his hand is cupping your cheek like it’s precious.

You can’t fight the way he’s holding you…

But if you say it, there’s no going back.

So you don’t.

You capture his lips in a desperate rush of frustration and passion. You pour all your hatred into it. The hate you have for yourself for waiting so long to do this and the hate you have for doing it at all. You really should not be doing this. But if you’re going to die anyway, you may as well let yourself feel some happiness while experiencing your last days on Earth.

He wastes no time putting a hand on your waist. He places the other on your head, and pulls you so close you almost become one being. You wouldn’t mind that, you think. It’d be a nice way to live. You would never have to leave him, no matter where you were forced to go.

Your hands find their way to his cheeks, and you have to stand on your tiptoes to get to his lips. For someone who likes to seem big and strong, you enjoy feeling smaller in his arms. Having him there to protect you for tonight, is more comforting than anything any of your crew mates have told you.

The kiss is clumsy and harsh, but it’s so painfully you that more tears flow from your tired eyes. You’re going to miss this, even if you only have it once. You’re going to miss him, and this stupid lab, and all the stupid late nights that led to this moment.

He doesn’t let you dwell on it because he picks you up and places you on the laboratory bench. Not even missing a beat. Impressive. Weirdly smooth for Ryland Grace.

You move your hand from his cheeks to tangle in his hair that is a little greasy from neglect. Turns out, saving the world from mass extinction can make you forget to shower once in a while. Luckily, you showered this morning, so you’re clean enough for what’s to come.

He barely pulls away to mumble something, and by the time he’s gone, he’s back again. The pure desperation of his actions makes you chuckle into his mouth. You pull him away with his hair, making him whimper a little.

“What did you say?” You giggle, still holding him by his head like a puppeteer.

“I just… I said that you’re beautiful.” He says, still catching his breath.

You smile. Every time he has said that to you, you’ve brushed it off and told him to be quiet. Now, you let yourself relish it. You are going to let yourself enjoy tonight.

“So are you.”

He smiles. You’ve never said that so plainly. Actually, you’ve never told him something so clear before. You know that he is also going to enjoy tonight. You don’t let yourself think about the rest of his nights after you leave.

He kisses you again, and this time it’s slower. He’s savouring you, and you don’t blame him. It won’t be long till you’re gone.

You deepen the kiss, loosening your grip on his hair and instead running your fingers through it. It’s soft, though dirty, and it’s a feeling you don’t want to forget. His fingers rub gentle circles in your waist, grounding you. It reminds you to think of the present, not the future.

His hands sneak up the bottom of your tank, massaging your back. The touch is comforting, and it’s clear he wants to feel as much of your skin as he can. So, you let him.

You break the kiss. At first, he looks a little disheartened. But then he sees you grab your top and lift it over your head, and his eyes light up again. After you throw it away, you smile at each other. It’s childish, but you feel giddy. Sitting here, topless in front of your crush. It’s like high school again.

On the plus side, you aren’t wearing a bra. So he doesn’t have to take minutes out of your time trying to undo it, and he can just admire your breasts with no fuss. From the way he captures them in his hands, you see he plans to do just that.

You throw your head back as he looks at you through the top of his glasses. He watches for any reaction you have, and loses himself in the way you grin at his movements. Your happiness is the reason for his.

“Ryland?” You mutter, eyes closed and facing the ceiling.

He hums in response, too focused on what he’s doing and the joy it’s giving you to really answer.

“Why do you like me?”

Your tone is casual, and your head drops so you can see him again. You open your eyes to watch as he beams at the question. It makes you giggle a little, the way he answers while working on the button of your jeans.

“Well, uh…” He starts, popping it open and moving to the zip.

“You’re smart, you keep me on my toes, you’re-”

“Beautiful?” You finish for him, so used to hearing the phrase that it feels wrong not to say it for him.

He nods, unzipping your jeans and pulling them off once you lift your hips. You wrap your legs around him, bringing him close to kiss him again. He isn’t distracted from his work, however, and rubs the top of your thighs patiently.

You soon realise that while you are sitting half naked, he is fully clothed. That just won’t do. You creep your hands towards his shirt and try to tug it over his head, but he won’t let you. Or, he’s too lost in the kiss to realise what you’re doing.

“Ryland.” You say, bringing him back to Earth for a second.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry.” He smiles, pulling away and taking his shirt off for you.

He doesn’t think much of it, but damn if he hasn’t got the best body you’ve seen. You knew from his biceps that he works out, but you never expected this from Ryland Grace. The abs, the tanned muscle… all of it. He could be a bikini model.

You run your hands over his stomach, leading up to his chest and eventually settling at his neck. He closes his eyes, thinking about nothing but your touch for now. Your lips turn up at his peaceful expression, and you place a sweet kiss on his jaw.

Your legs, which had dropped from his waist after he pulled away, are dangling over the end of the bench. He stands between them, one hand near the top and the other rubbing your waist. You’re just looking at each other now. Taking in everything you haven’t before, and trying to remember all the tiny details you will forget in years to come.

He moves again, but this time, he lifts your legs, and you place your feet on the edge of the table. He’s awfully close, and you feel it as his thumb begins to trace your inner thigh. You move your arms from around his neck and steady them behind you, keeping you from lying down completely. You can see him perfectly from here, and he can see you in the way he’s been dreaming of.

The two of you have found yourselves in a staring contest while he moves your underwear to the side. You bite your lip before it can pull upwards and decide to gaze at the ceiling instead of watching him. He doesn’t notice because he’s too enchanted by what’s in between your legs. He just can’t believe that this is happening. You, distant and dishonest, are letting him love you. You, who refused to let him call you beautiful even when you wanted to, are sitting in front of him with spread legs and a contented face.

His eyes skim over your jaw, then your neck, all the way down to where his fingers are hovering.

“Can I?” He stutters, losing composure at the thought that he might have a chance.

You hum, but it’s not enough. He’s still waiting.

“Please, Ry. I need you.” You decide.

His eyes shoot up at the declaration. You… need him? He never thought he’d hear those words from you. Needing someone is a foreign concept to you. You refuse help, tell him off for offering support and would die before telling anyone how you really feel. But you need him for tonight, at least. And then you’re on your own.

He strokes a finger through your folds, wetting them with your arousal. You let out a small noise at the feeling, with it being one you haven’t experienced for a while. Living on a boat in the middle of the ocean can do things to your social life, but it’s detrimental to any romance. Everyone is tired, or seasick, or too busy to even think about having sex. But not you and Grace. You two have been thinking about this for a while.

He slowly teases your entrance, making you squirm underneath him. You’re beginning to think you have never felt true happiness before this moment. Everything just feels so right. Especially his finger, which is now planted inside of you.

Your mouth drops open, and your brows furrow at the sensation. This is what salvation feels like.

He begins to pump it in and out. If you are this full from one finger, how are you going to handle two? Or even more, his-

“Jesus Christ…” You moan to the sky.

You feel his breath on your neck now, and as he moves to close the gap, you feel another finger inside. You let out a moan at the overwhelm. His mouth attacks the curve of your neck, and his fingers pull and push the coil in your stomach. Even though his moments are slow, you feel yourself starting to unravel already. For someone out of the game, he sure as hell knows what he is doing.

From his angle, he can hear all the noises you make. Your quiet whines, whimpers and hums flood his ears like a sweet melody. You’re perfect, he thinks. You are the most perfect girl he’s ever seen, and he’s so mad that this is it.

His movements pick up as he kisses up to the source of all your sounds. He muffles them, taking what you’re giving and storing it in a part of his brain that can keep you around longer than he can.

You reach down between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing it. You moan loudly into his mouth at the feeling, but he takes your hand away before it can bring you over the edge.

You don’t get a chance to ask what he’s doing, because he quickly replaces the hand he removed. Your arms betray you, and you lie down on your back instead, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

“Are… you close?”

You nod, biting your lip to try not to be so loud. There are probably people walking around outside, unaware of what is going on in here. They trust the two of you to get on with your work. But here you are, with his fingers inside of you and glossy eyes.

He’s so gentle, it’s like he thinks you will break. He leans down, placing a soft kiss on your stomach. Just at the sight of it, you snap. You’ve never had someone be so kind to you. Especially while looking down at you and making you cry out.

He fucks you through the high, kissing in between your chest and back down to your belly button while you let out soft moans. After you relax again, he pulls his fingers out and replaces them with his mouth, taking everything you’ve been so afraid to give. You moan again at the excessive attention, but he quickly comes back to pull you up from your position.

“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shake your head, “No. You could never hurt me.”

You smile and kiss him, which he happily complies with.

“Do you want to…” He starts, but gets too awkward to finish.

“Can we go to your room?”

He looks a little surprised, but nods before he can say something stupid. He doesn’t let you find your own clothes. Quickly, he searches the room for your tank that was thrown away in the process of getting it off. You watch as you jump from the bench and pull your jeans up from the floor. He’s more excited than a child in a candy store.

You give him some credit, though. He has been waiting for this for weeks and has put his image on the line just to be rejected again and again. He’s done his time, and now you plan to reward him for being so patient.

After you both are fully clothed, you grab his hand to lead him from the lab. There’s still some unfinished work waiting on the bench, which is now a little messier than before, but that’s for another day. Someone can fix that tomorrow while you’re checking out the launch facility in Kazakhstan.

You don’t even get to open the door before he’s kissing you again. You giggle into each other while you make out, but eventually you find the handle blindly and push it open. He quickly snaps back to normal, brushing himself off and walking into the hallway.

You laugh, following along and greeting all your colleagues who are walking to the bar Stratt set up. It was nice of her to do that, and you do enjoy it some nights, but you know that alcohol doesn’t stand a chance against what is in store for you tonight.

When you make it to the quiet corridor of dormitories, you grab his hand again and race to his room. You’ve been in there a few times, usually when he misses his alarm and is therefore late for work. You are the one who has to come and wake him, but you’ve always been careful not to snoop around too much. That’s not what you’re thinking about anymore, however.

When you get there, he pushes the door open with a smile.

“My humble abode.” He proclaims.

You step inside, still grinning from the adrenaline of it all. It’s small, messy, and exactly how you imagined his room would look like in light. You turn to face him, and he looks very proud of himself.

“The light?” You say.

“What?”

“Turn off the light, Grace. I don’t want to have sex in bad lighting.”

“Oh, right.” He nods and flips the switch.

It’s not total darkness, but it’s much nicer. The moonlight bleeds in from the window, and he looks almost ethereal from where you’re standing. Suddenly, you don’t want to laugh anymore. You just want him.

You lean in, and he must get the idea because he’s walking you backwards to his bed while kissing you slowly. He takes off your tank, and it hits him all over again. You’re just so beautiful, he can’t help but shiver at the sight of you.

You take off your jeans while he removes his clothing, and eventually you’re both bare and desperate. He’s bigger than you expected, which is endearing. However, he doesn’t give you much time to look as he moves you all the way back on his bed. Your head is laid on the pillow while he presses his lips to yours. Now, he’s lying over you and looks better than you’ve ever seen him before.

Your fingers brush the nape of his neck, reminding yourself to stay in the moment. It’s hard, knowing that this is all you can have, but it’s better than nothing. You know that if you didn’t get this, you’d regret it for the rest of your lonely life.

When your legs wrap around his waist, you feel him poking your inner thigh. He groans a little, and you know he’s trying to hold off and take as much time as possible. You don’t want that, though. You need him now.

“Please, Ry.”

“I know, I-”

He lines himself up and takes a shaky exhale before pushing in. You’re already blabbering, stretching out around him so perfectly it feels as though you were made for each other. His head falls to your neck, pressing sweet kisses to your shoulder as he bottoms out.

You stay like that for a while, just holding each other. It makes you cry. You know this is the last time anyone will touch you like this, and it makes you nauseous. This is it. This is all you get. Maybe you haven’t made peace with that yet. Or, maybe Ryland has undone all your progress in the matter.

He must hear your quiet sobs because he looks up from your neck to see you. You shut your eyes, embarrassed that you can’t keep it in anymore, and let out a real cry for the first time since you were given your job. He hesitates for a second, just observing you. He’s never seen you like this before.

“It’s okay, I know.” He murmurs, kissing away the tears that are falling.

You shake your head. It’s not okay. None of this is acceptable. How can you accept that this is the end? You’ve just got him, and he’s going to be ripped away from you in a few days. That’s not fair.

“I know, sweetheart.”

His voice is shaky now, like he’s trying to stay strong.

“I can’t- I’m scared, Ry. I can’t do it.” You weep.

“Yes, you can. You can do it. You’re the only person who can do it.”

“No, I… I don’t want to do it. I want-”

You stop yourself, replacing the last word with a heavier sob. He strokes your hair, giving you affirmations that you can’t hear anymore. Everything is blurred now.

“Please, just…” You murmur, before kissing him through your tears. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him even closer. He doesn’t expect that from you, but he understands. He wants you close too.

He gives you what you ask for. He starts to move backwards, before pushing in again. Your whimpers blend to moans as he uses his grip on your waist to pull you towards him.

You clench around him as you cry, making him whine into the darkness. He can’t last much longer, but neither can you. You’re already sensitive from his fingers, and your mind is too full to think about anything other than the way he fills you up.

Your nails scratch at his broad back, trying to keep yourself grounded in any way. He’s still attempting to kiss away any tears that fall, but it’s becoming harder as his movements get sloppier and less calculated. He’s desperate in the same way you are. He just wants to keep you forever, even if he knows it’s impossible.

You feel something wet trickle down your collarbone, and you soon realise that he is crying as well. You run your fingers through his hair to comfort him, but it just makes him shiver.

You both chase the high you’ve been seeking all night. You’re connected, in more ways than one, and soon whatever you have will be lost. You’re leaving him here to live his life without you, and you don’t know what to do with that. All you can do is let him make you cry out for the second time tonight. He’s not far behind you, spilling inside before he can think twice about it.

He collapses on your chest, and you kiss the top of his head as you hold him tightly. You don’t want him to go. You want to savour this moment forever. You don’t want to feel the emptiness of losing him.

But, after minutes of silence, he pulls out and lies next to you. You don’t say anything. What is there to say? He’s just looking at you now. He isn’t waiting anymore, he’s just taking you in.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble.

You don’t expect those words to come from your mouth, but they find their way out anyway.

“For what?” He whispers, matching your volume. He sounds cautious, like he’s scared you’re going to run off.

“For this. I shouldn’t have done this to you.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I…” You can’t think of anything else to say.

“I’m sorry.” You repeat.

He stays quiet. He takes a second to move, but then he’s wrapping his arms around you and pulling you onto his chest. You don’t know what to do with yourself at the gesture, but you relax into it after he brushes his lips against your head.

You cry again, shaking in his arms and burying your head into his neck. This is pathetic, you think. But it’s all you have.

Damn Eva Stratt.

The next morning is empty. There’s no feeling of overwhelming guilt or happiness; there’s only the knowledge that this is the end. You wake in his arms, like you once fantasised about, and don’t speak for a while. He just keeps you close, unable to look at you for any longer than a few seconds. He knows that you’ll both end up crying if you look at each other too hard.

You manage to get out of bed and get dressed. You don’t say anything when you leave to go to the launch centre. He’s still in bed, facing the wall and unmoving. He looks like a corpse.

The centre isn’t too far away. After getting off the boat, they made sure that you were close to it. They didn’t want any fuss on the actual launch day. Just seal you up and send you to die, simple as that.

You are supposed to be testing out a generator powered by astrophage. It sounds useless, but it’s kind of exciting to you. Or, it was. Now you don’t feel much about the mission. You’ve already said your last goodbye.

Grace gets up an hour or so after you. Stratt is supposed to be meeting him, just for a conversation, while you’re working. He doesn’t want to see her today. He doesn’t want to see her at all. All he can see when he looks at her is you.

He can’t get the image of you crying out of his head. The way you didn’t stop for hours, and the way you couldn’t catch your breath between sobs. You looked so young, like a small fish in a big pond. He wants to protect you, but he can’t, because he’s the same way. He has no authority here. He can’t stop you from being sent to your demise.

So he takes a cold shower and gets dressed. He doesn’t eat breakfast. He lost his appetite when you begged him not to let them take you.

He wanders to the barrier that separates the two of you. Behind the fence, and right in the centre of the large field, you are doing your job. The job you don’t want to do, and the one he’d do anything to keep you from. He stares blankly at the building, too tired to cry again, and so numb from last night.

He doesn’t hear Stratt appear behind him. When he whips around, she’s standing with two coffees and a small smile. Wordlessly, she hands him one. It’s the least she can do, he thinks. She is sending his soulmate on a one-way trip.

She tells him that you’ve nailed every test they’ve put you through and that you and your backup are ready to go. He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. If Stratt notices, she doesn’t mention it. She takes a sip of her coffee and looks out at the launch centre thoughtfully.

“What about the others?” She asks him.

It takes him a second to process it, but she’s asking if everyone else is ready, too. He nods.

“They will be.”

“I expect so, they have a great teacher.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that. He shuffles his feet a little before looking down at the ground. He tried his best. That’s all anyone can do, right? But it’s not enough. It couldn’t keep you here.

“Can you take the compliment, please?”

“No.”

“It’s an order.” She says, looking at him fidget.

He chuckles, but it isn’t right. Nothing is right without you.

“Okay. If it’s an order, I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“Good.”

She takes a drink and looks away from him. He’s never seen the launch centre before, and he can see why it is a lot to take in. There are many other rocket ships scattered around the building, presumably on launch pads that will be used in years to come.

He can see the Hail Mary, too. Waiting to leave and never return. God, he feels sick. This coffee isn’t helping either. He can’t stomach it. He can’t understand why it’s you and not anyone else.

“What do you think?” Stratt asks, oblivious to his thoughts.

“It’s… pretty impressive.” He offers.

She nods in agreement.

“You’re… You’re good.”

And he means it. Annoyingly, he admires her for what she does. He just wishes that it wasn’t you she chose, and that you weren’t so damn smart she couldn’t help but choose you. You just make it so easy to justify it. He hates that.

She says nothing in response. He sighs at the quiet.

“Three days, huh?” She starts.

“Yeah.”

There isn’t much excitement in his tone. How can he be excited when it’s three days till you disappear? How can he count down the days till you’re gone? He only had one night with you, and now he’s waiting for you to never come back. This isn’t right.

“What are you gonna do for the next twenty years? You got a plan?”

She hums. He finds it in himself to smile, and Stratt laughs at that. It offers him little comfort. She’s not a monster, he knows this. She’s just doing her job, like you.

He can’t be mad at her. She’s a nice woman, though intimidating. And she doesn’t understand how much he loves you. She has no idea that he’d sacrifice the world to have you for one more night. She’s too obsessed with saving it.

The flash of light is too quick to recognise at first. It’s warm, large and catches his attention over Stratt’s head. He doesn’t understand at first. What is happening?

Then he is pushed to the floor by a gust of wind too powerful to fight back. It takes him a second to realise what is going on. The explosion sounds through the air and slices him in half. Stratt is up and running before he can process it.

He lies there. It feels like longer than it is, because time has slowed down. His ears are ringing, his vision is blurred, and his mind isn’t catching up to what he feels. He felt the bang crash through him, but that’s it. Now, there is only emptiness and confusion.

He sits up. Everyone is running to the centre now. Stratt has opened the barrier and is running along the massive field. She’s so far away from him now. She’s so desperate. Something is wrong. Why is she panicking?

He manages to stand. How can something go wrong now? His eyesight comes back fully as he pushes his glasses back onto his face. Guards are stressed and shouting, but he is just standing there. He doesn’t feel anything.

He begins to run. Something in him takes him to where he knows you are.

You’re there.

He’s running through the smoke that’s already rising. His breathing is shallow, and he can’t think about anything but the pain that’s settling in his chest. Was he winded? He didn’t care. You’re there. He needs to get to you.

“No, no, no, no.” He says to himself.

It’s not true. This isn’t real. You’re going to space in three days, and you’re going to die years into the future where he can’t see you. He can’t get to you. Not here, not then, and never again. He will never see you again.

He runs behind Stratt. He’s already caught up to her, and she doesn’t even look at him. She doesn’t care, and neither does he. The mission is compromised. You’re there, your backup is there.

You’re there.

You were there.

He stops running.

What is there to run to now?

He stands in the chaos. Nobody else has paused. They all need to see if this is salvageable. They’ve lost everything. Stratt lost her two best scientists. How can they do the mission without their scientists? How can he live without you? How did this happen?

Damn Eva Stratt.

Grace doesn’t remember the rest of the day. It’s a lot of shouting, panicking, and demands. He’s so tired that he doesn’t listen to any of it. He can’t. There’s only one thing on his mind.

He hadn’t even made peace with you dying decades into the future. How can he accept you dying for a mistake made by someone who isn’t you? Damn everyone who played a part in this.

No, actually.

Fuck them.

He repeats it to his ceiling. He tosses and turns, but he always ends up staring up to the sky. That’s where you were supposed to be. That’s where you were going to save the world and be the hero he knew you were. No, the hero you are.

He just doesn’t understand. How could they let this happen? Not just you, but your backup. All of you, gone. Everyone who was working in the centre that day is dead because of a mistake. You’re dead because of a miscommunication.

You were supposed to save the world. You were going to save the world, and now what? Humans go extinct because you’re…

His mind drifts before he can finish the thought. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore. Maybe you had a point when you’d say you didn’t want to talk. There is nothing to talk about.

But you’re all he can think about. He doesn’t care about the mission, or what this means for the world, or how they’re going to fix this. It’s only your smile, your annoying habits and your little nose scrunch that matter now. It’s only you who ever really mattered.

Now, he has no one again. Grace came here alone, and he is going to leave lonely. He is going to die without anyone by his side.

He doesn’t sleep at all. The morning comes like a burden, something he will never experience without thinking of you. He remembers the golden light in your face like it’s a memory from years ago. As if you’ve been dead since you met him.

He gets dressed, leaves the room and doesn’t look back. He doesn’t want to be here anymore. He wants to go home. It’s the only place that doesn’t carry you.

He walks down the dormitories. He doesn’t even stop at your door. What good will it do? He doesn’t have time to mourn in public. He has a meeting to attend. He has to discuss how much of an inconvenience your death is.

Stratt is waiting for him at the end of a long table. She asked to see him yesterday, but he didn’t say anything. He has to do what she tells him anyway. It doesn’t matter if he refuses or breaks down sobbing. He will end up where she wants him.

Ilyukhina and Yáo sit at the end of the table next to her. They look a little tired, but they can’t grieve. They have a job to do, like Stratt. They have to be brave. Grace knows nothing about that right now.

He wishes the ground would swallow him whole. He wishes you’d come back. He wishes none of this were happening. Everyone is staring at him, expecting some sort of declaration or solution, but he has nothing.

Stratt has made it clear that they are launching when they planned, and with Grace being the lead scientist, maybe they’re hoping he will give some ideas on who can replace you. He has none. You can’t be replaced.

“If we miss the orbital window, it’ll set us back months,” Narender says, taking a seat next to him.

“Yeah, but if no one is trained to do the mission, it won’t matter.” He counters.

“Casualty projections go up exponentially if we delay.”

Stratt’s voice sounds as logical as ever. She seems untouched by this, troubled at the most. To her, this is a setback. To Grace, this is everything he fought for being ripped away before he gets the chance to say goodbye. This is cruelty.

“We launch on schedule with a replacement science officer.” She finishes.

“Okay, but… who? I mean that…”

Everyone is staring at him. They have that same expectant face, and he realises that they don’t want recommendations. They want him.

His brows furrow at the realisation. Why would they want him? He isn’t nearly as brave as you are. He can’t handle all the pressure of the mission. He can’t die in space like you were willing to.

He takes a breath, leaning back in his chair. He doesn’t take it seriously yet, because he knows he can’t do it. They can’t make him do it, and he has a choice. He hasn’t accepted this, and he doesn’t have to. He has control.

He tilts his head.

Stratt tilts her head back.

“I’m not an astronaut.”

“I don’t need an astronaut. I need an expert on astrophage who’s mission-ready.” She doesn’t miss a beat in her response.

Clearly, she’s been thinking about this since the incident. She didn’t waste a second mourning you. But Grace knows that she only cares about the mission. It’s why they are having this absurd conversation in the first place. If she cared about him, or you, she would back off.

“I’m not ready. I don’t have any training.”

“You’ll pick it up,” Ilyukhina tells him.

That’s not true. There’s no time to pick anything up. There’s no training he can do to prepare himself for this. He’s already lost you, and now he’s being asked to give himself up? He can’t do that. He’s already lost his whole world. Why should it matter if everyone loses theirs?

“I’m not an astronaut. I put the not in astronaut!” He argues, slamming his hands on the table.

“I’ve never done anything! I’ve never done a spacewalk. I can’t even moonwalk. I haven’t done the whole pool thing-”

“No, no, no, this is just for the picture. For social media.” Ilyukhina interrupts. She’s also pretty adamant about this, it seems.

“I’m not heroic in any way. I get sick on the elevator.”

“Perfect, there’s no elevator on the ship,”Yáo says. He doesn’t get it.

“I cannot do this.” Grace states.

That’s it. There’s nothing else to say. He cannot do what they are asking of him. He can’t be sent to space, knowing it was supposed to be you instead. He can’t fail and know that you would have succeeded. He can’t replace you. You’re irreplaceable.

“You’re smart. You’ll figure it out.”

Stratt offers no sympathy or apologies. She just tells him how it is and expects him to work around it. But he can’t. He can’t do this anymore. Not without you here.

Carl looks ashamed. He hasn’t seen that expression on Carl’s face before. It makes the whole situation feel more real.

“This might be very hard for you to understand, but some people are failures. Some people don’t rise to the challenge.”

“You’ve been present for every major scientific or strategic meeting we’ve had on the mission.” Stratt reminds him, like it will do any good.

“You’re missing an important part of the mission, which is the suicide part.” He chuckles, but it’s not a real laugh. It’s one to try to make everyone understand how stupid this is.

“Grace, you’d be in very cool company.” Ilyukhina tries.

“If you don’t go, you die anyway.”

“Yeah, but I die in thirty years with…”

He doesn’t finish. Because who will he die with? He has no one. You’re gone, and you were the last thing he imagined a future with. Now, it’s just dark and lonely. It’s better than dying in space, though. He’d rather die from starvation than die knowing he was in your place.

“With the rest of us?”

No. That isn’t what he meant. Stratt doesn’t understand, because she never knew you. She didn’t take the time to get to know you. You were just another pawn in the game. It wasn’t her game, but she watched over it. She let this happen to you. This… is her fault.

“You have no immediate family. You don’t even have a dog.”

“So, just so I’m clear, you’re asking me right now to give up my life.”

He struggles to find the words, but they come out eventually. His brain is working slowly today, and it’s struggling to keep up with all that’s being asked of him.

“I am. We all are.”

He pauses, putting his hands on the table. He didn’t realise that they were holding each other. It just reminds him of you. How you slept, trying to be as close as you can. And how you comforted him when he cried with you, by interlocking your fingers and kissing his lips like they were a lifeline.

“Can I think about this?”

“You have three hours.” Stratt insists.

That was it. Three hours to decide if he could dim the memory of you enough to take your place. He had to leave you behind, one way or another. He just didn’t know how to do it so quickly. You were the best part of his life, and now you’re gone. He didn’t even get to say goodbye to you.

He doesn’t know how he ended up in the lab you shared, but his eyes are glued to the work you forgot to finish. It was meaningless clutter, really, but you wanted something to tinker with. You could never sit still. You always had to be moving, distracting yourself from what was to come.

He doesn’t dare touch what you’ve left. It holds some of the last parts of you. It carries what you could never say, all the thoughts in your head, all the effort you put into everything. All the best qualities you had are now in your work, and your work only. This is all he has now.

He can’t imagine being up there. He can’t leave all this behind. He couldn’t imagine you being up there, so how can he think of taking your place? Nobody should have to do that, let alone a fearsome scientist who just so happened to become Stratt’s right-hand man.

They’ll find someone. The government always finds a way. There have been so many crises that have been averted with no one but a small inner circle knowing. Grace is just a part of that group now. He knows everything that happens behind the scenes, and he has no power over it. Until now, when he puts his foot down.

Because they can’t make him do anything. Every time Stratt forced him to be involved with an experiment or rush off somewhere, it only happened because he let it. But he’s not letting it happen anymore. Not after what she did to you.

He tries not to blame her, but she’s the reason for all of this. Stratt was the one who sent you to look at the astrophage generator. She offered you the job in the first place. And now you’re dead, because you were so brave that you took it. Why were you so brave?

Grace can’t replace that. He doesn’t have a part of him that he can take to space to save the world. He’s scared. The thought of being up there, tasked with keeping the population alive, is too much for him to handle. But you could do it. You could have done it if it wasn’t for her.

Now, he’s sitting on his lab stool. It’s opposite yours. He looks at where you should be, and all he sees is emptiness. A void where you should be standing. Everything feels empty without you. Nothing means anything to him anymore. It’s like the world has dissolved into black and white.

He can’t do it. He knows he can’t. You were the only person who could save the world. You were good enough to sacrifice yourself for the sake of humanity. Grace can’t do that. He isn’t selfless like you.

Even if he goes, there is no winning. There is no success without you. He could find the source of it all, and it wouldn’t change a thing. He could save the world and then some, and it wouldn’t matter any more than waking up to you would. He can’t fight for a better world.

There is no better world if you’re not in it.

You were the only thing that made him better. He didn’t feel so awkward around you. He finally felt wanted in a world that pushes him away. You made him feel that way. Not Stratt, not any stranger he’d be giving up his life for. You, who were taken away from him before he could show you how much he’d give up for you.

A guard knocks on the lab door, although it’s already open. He apologises for interrupting, and it’s only then that Grace realises he’s been crying. Probably for hours, because his decision is made, and now it’s time to tell Stratt. He has to stand up for himself. He has to do this for you.

He walks into her office. She looks more nervous than he has ever seen her. He doesn’t know what to do with himself when she stares at him. She expects something of him, like usual. He doesn’t know what to give her but the truth.

“I can’t do it.” He says.

It’s clear and simple, and it does the job. There is no changing his mind. He can’t do this to you. He can’t do this in your place.

His eyes well up again.

“I can’t do it.”

Stratt looks down. She’s disappointed, but she’s not distraught. He is right, he thinks. They can fix this. They don’t need him. He’s just a small fish in a big pond, like you were. He’s just not going to let himself be swallowed whole.

“You’ll find a solution.” He offers.

“You are my solution.”

He shakes his head, looking out the window.

You would hate him for this. You’d tell him,

“Ry, what are you thinking? You have to save humanity!”

But you aren’t here now. And no one else’s voice matters but yours. No one can persuade him to do this. It seems evil, but it’s nothing compared to what they have done to you.

“My place is in the classroom.”

“Stop pretending this is about your students. It’s so insulting.”

She probably doesn’t know the real reason. But he doesn’t want her to know. That’s for him to hold onto. She doesn’t get to keep the happy memories of you, because she didn’t try while you were here. She saw how smart you were and told you to die for it.

“We will lose a quarter of the Earth’s population in thirty years. And that assumes that the nations of the world will work together to ration food.”

Her voice cracks at the last part.

“Which they won’t.”

And he knows that. He knows that humanity is so awful that they won’t team up and salvage what’s left. That’s why he hated the fact that you were dying for it. Why should you die for something that won’t appreciate everything you do?

“So I double the estimate. And if you truly care about the children, or anyone else for that matter, you’d get on that ship.”

She says it like he’s heartless. But he did care about someone, and she took you from him. Why should he sacrifice himself for someone who took away the one thing he loved?

He clears his throat before he says something he really means.

“I understand the stakes, I do. But… I don’t have it in me. Not like-”

He stops himself. Don’t mention it. Stratt won’t see the part of you he is holding onto.

“I don’t have it in me.” He settles for.

He tries to say something else, but there’s nothing else to say. It’s final. He won’t go. He isn’t the one who should be going. It’s you. It has always been you.

“My mind is made up.” He pulls his hat on through sniffles.

“I’m sorry, but you just can’t talk me into it.”

He apologises again as he puts on his glasses. He doesn’t know why he is still sitting, but it feels hard to stand. It’s like walking away from a responsibility you gave him.

“I’m not trying to talk you into anything. I’m trying to make you understand what I’m about to do next.”

Grace looks at her. This isn’t happening, right?

“Please, stay calm.”

No, this isn’t happening. This isn’t real.

A man walks in holding a medical bag. He looks scared, but determined. What is going on?

“What is this?” Grace laughs in disbelief.

Stratt doesn’t answer, instead standing up and letting her eyes water.

“The mission plan will state that we induced your coma early to maximise your safety. You will be remembered as a hero.”

This can’t be real. This isn’t supposed to be him. He isn’t the hero, it’s you. You were the one brave enough to do this. He doesn’t stand a chance against what you were willing to fight. He can’t save the world. It was supposed to be you. You were the hero.

“Come on, this is crazy.” He tries to bargain, but it’s weak and blurred with tears.

“I have to do it.”

And it’s true. She has to do something. She killed you, and now she has to kill him. There is no other way. He just doesn’t understand why it has to happen like this. Why did you have to die so that he could finally step up and be brave?

He backs away from her. She isn’t a monster, but she’s a killer. She’s ready to kill anyone to save the world.

“This may seem like I’m betraying you, but it’s actually me believing in you.”

“It sure feels like you’re betraying me!”

She asks him to make it easy, but he can’t. He can’t go out without a fight. He’s not like you. He isn’t going to just cry and then be strong. He is going to run.

Two men corner him, but it means nothing anymore. Grace runs straight out the door and follows the hall to the outside. They’re hot on his tail, but he doesn’t care. He needs to be in the air. He needs to feel you.

He runs faster than he’s ever run before. He thinks back to when you both raced to his room, excited to finally touch each other properly. You weren’t scared together; you were free and safe in each other’s hold. But now you’re gone, and Grace is running from those who will soon be his killers.

All he thinks of as he approaches the barrier is you. Everything good was in you, and now it’s gone. He doesn’t want to save a world that took you from him. He doesn’t want to be without you at all. He’s so scared without you.

You were the only one who could bring him back. Every time he’d worry, it was you who reminded him of all the good things. Kindness, peace, love. It was all in you. And now it’s lost in an explosion that was out of your control. Everything that kept him grounded is up in the air.

He can’t run anymore. He reaches a fence and can’t get past it. This is it. This is the end. He is tackled to the floor, squirming and begging. He’s pathetic. But there’s no one to impress anymore. He doesn’t care. He’s going out with a fight because you didn’t get the chance to. You couldn’t fight to live as he can.

“Carl!” He yells.

The man who was once his friend stands above him. He can’t trust anyone. Everyone he surrounded himself with is dead or a traitor. They’re not worth dying for. They’re not-

Something stabs his arm.

“You know who you are,” Carl tells him.

Grace’s vision starts to fade. His squeals and pleading start to blur, and are replaced by a ringing in his ears.

“You’re going to do great.”

But he can’t.

Not without you.