He felt a sudden warm gust of air ruffle through his hair and he turned around, only to yelp in surprise as Tom’s face was right there. He had moved, silently somehow, so that his head was resting in his arms on the table. He wasn’t close enough that Ryland could reach out and touch him but he was definitely closer.

 Tom’s eyes were moving up and down his body again and Ryland tried not to react to the look, though it was making him pretty uncomfortable. Why did the human keep doing that? He looked away, hoping that might dissuade Tom from his staring. But it ended up backfiring on him because he didn’t see Tom’s hand move toward him until it was too late.

 A finger, as thick as his entire body, poked him in the side and Ryland squealed in surprise, flinching back. His head whipped over towards Tom again, though it was almost hard to see his face with his hand now so close. The finger, unfortunately, didn’t retreat and instead was joined by a thumb as both digits pressed against him. Tom’s pointer finger on his back and his thumb pressed firmly against his chest. He tried pushing the offending appendage away but, of course, it was no use.

 Ryland was sure Tom could feel how fast his heart was beating. Being so helpless like this, unable to get away, was terrifying.

 “T-Tom-” Ryland cut himself off to yelp as Tom’s fingers trailed down, now on his stomach. Ryland felt frozen in place. Why was Tom doing this?

 “When was the last time you ate?” Tom asked and, for a moment, Ryland’s brain blanked.

 “W-What?” He stuttered out and Tom sighed, rolling his eyes.

 “You know, eating? When was the last time you did that? I can literally feel your stomach eating itself.” Tom said, pressing his thumb ever so slightly more into his stomach to show his point. Ryland’s breath hitched.

 “I, uh…this-this morning?” Ryland had to think about that for a moment. So much had happened today already, he almost forgot that he and Colt had shared a quick meal before his brother had convinced him to come borrowing with him. “This morning.” He said again, more confident.

 “Hmm, well we should probably fix that then.” Tom said and then, the fingers around his middle were joined by the rest of Tom’s hand as it wrapped around him and lifted him up. Ryland’s eyes went wide as his stomach somersaulted at the sudden movement.

 “Wait! Wait, I don’t-”

 “Your brother will be fine.” Tom said, cutting him off and somehow reading his mind. Ryland blinked, body tense and frozen as Tom lifted him up to eye level. “You can leave him for two seconds, he’s not gonna wake up for a while. Meanwhile, you need something to eat.” The hand he was in dropped a bit lower, to chest level, as Tom started out of the room.

 “I’m really fine, seriously.” Ryland said, squirming a little in the grip, hoping to convince Tom to take him back. Being away from Colt right now was making the anxiety in his chest come back. Although, that could also just be from this entire situation, who really knew at this point?

 Tom ignored him and instead walked the familiar short distance back into the kitchen. Ryland felt another somersault in his stomach as Tom lowered his hand down to the counter but he was very happy when he was released from Tom’s grip. He stumbled slightly as he made contact with solid ground but managed to not fall over. He let out a small sigh of relief.

 Tom started moving around the kitchen, looking through the cabinets and fridge for something to eat. Ryland shifted on his feet, his nerves high. “Can you not do that again?” He surprised himself by saying. Tom’s eyes snapped over to him and Ryland tensed.

 Tom raised an eyebrow. “Do what again?” He asked like he had no idea what had Ryland so tense. He had to know though, right?

 “The…the touching? And grabbing?” Ryland clarified.

 Tom blinked, letting out a small hum. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Tom asked.

 It was Ryland’s turn to be caught off guard. He rubbed at his chest a bit but not because it hurt. The phantom feeling of touch just hadn’t gone away yet. “No, I’m fine.” Which was true, if you didn’t account for the years off his life the entire thing took from him. But physically, he was okay.

 “Oh, good.” Tom grinned and leaned against the counter, towering over Ryland. “You had me scared for a second there, Ry-Ry.” Okay, the nickname was better than sweetheart at the very least. It was actually close to what Colt called him, funny enough.

 “Right, but it was still…” Ryland trailed off, trying to find the words. Uncomfortable? Terrifying? Dehumanizing? All of the above? Ryland sighed. “It was…a lot. Too much.” Ryland wrapped his arms around himself, trying not to think too hard about it.

 Tom was silent for a long moment, enough time for Ryland to be worried, but then he spoke. “I guess I did let my curiosity get the best of me.” His words were a bit low, almost like he was mumbling but not quite. “But also, I can’t keep my hands totally off of you.”

 “What? Why not?” Ryland asked, and okay, his body was starting to hurt from how much he was tensing up. It couldn’t be helped though, being in the presence of a human. And one Ryland still didn’t understand. It really seemed like Tom was all over the place and that was just confusing.

 “Well, how else would you get around?” Tom asked and Ryland wanted to argue, he really did. He was a borrower, after all, and borrowers found ways to get around that humans would never even think of. They had to, really. 

 But Ryland stayed home, within the walls, a lot. He still didn’t know the layout of Tom’s home and the very idea of climbing back up that string, after what happened to Colt, kept him from ever wanting to do that again. He felt helpless, admitting it to himself, but he wasn’t in any sort of state to be traversing Tom’s place by himself.

 And Colt was even less so.

 It seemed Tom had taken his long silence as an answer. “See. It really can’t be helped.” Tom said with a shrug and Ryland frowned. No, it definitely could be helped in some aspects at least.

 “How about…a compromise?” Ryland suggested tentatively. Tom raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t say anything. Ryland took that as a sign to continue. “The…uh, holding can’t really be helped, yeah. But, maybe you could…ask? Beforehand?” It seemed like a reasonable request. It would still be weird but it might help the whole thing be less terrifying if he knew it was coming.

 Tom seemed a bit taken aback by Ryland’s suggestion, which was very confusing. Seriously, what the heck was with this human in particular? But Tom hummed, his fingers tapping against the counter not too far away from where Ryland stood. “...Alright. I can work with that.” Tom said and Ryland let out a small relieved sigh.

 “Thank you.” Ryland said and watched as Tom smiled a bit before turning and going back to looking in his fridge.

 It took another minute of rummaging but Tom finally produced a glass dish with tinfoil on top. He placed it on the counter, well away from Ryland thankfully, and then grabbed a sticky note off the fridge and scanned it over. He then reached over and turned the oven on with the press of a few buttons.

 When Tom took the tin foil off the glass container, Ryland couldn’t help his curiosity as he stepped a bit closer to get a better look at it. It appeared to be a lot of veggies drizzled in some sort of sauce, with what looked like some sort of meat spread over the top. Whatever it was, it looked really good. “What is it?”

 Tom smirked. “Smoked salmon, fresh from Alaska, with veggies drizzled in a balsamic glaze.” Tom opened the oven door and placed the food inside of it. “Alexa, set a timer for…” He trailed off and looked at the sticky note again. “25 minutes.”

 “Timer set for 25 minutes.” Ryland jumped as a woman’s voice spoke up from…somewhere. He knew what an Alexa was, but it had still caught him off guard. He should have known that someone like Tom would have one though.

 “It looks good.” Ryland said. It looked too good.

 Tom grinned, once again leaning against the counter. He really seemed to like towering over Ryland. “It is. It has to be. I wouldn’t eat it otherwise.” Tom let out an exaggerated sigh. “I’d actually prefer something a little less lean but my dietician is being so strict right now.” He huffed as he complained but Ryland was a bit too confused to offer any sort of sympathies.

 “Dietician?” Ryland asked out loud and Tom nodded.

 “Yep, unfortunately, I wasn’t born with this perfect body.” He leaned back and motioned towards his abs, reminding Ryland that he was still very much naked from the waist up. Great, he hadn’t needed the reminder. “I had to work for it.”

 Okay, so a dietician was someone who worked out the diet for you. Probably. That’s what Ryland summed up anyway. Ryland didn’t really understand diets but that was mostly because borrowers like him barely ate enough in the first place. He was sure the practice made a lot more sense for humans.

 “Right.” Ryland said, trying hard not to stare directly where Tom was pointing.

 Tom smirked, teasing. “You can look sweetheart, I don’t mind.”

 “I’m good, thanks.” Ryland said, a bit higher pitched than he would have liked. He turned his head, placing a hand over his mouth, hoping it hid the red on his cheeks. Tom laughed, so he assumed he had failed.

 “Have you ever had salmon?” Tom asked after settling down from his laughter.

 Ryland really hadn’t been expecting the question. He let out a small hum. “Oh, uh, no.” Though Colt was very good at borrowing, even he couldn’t manage a borrow like that. Not to mention how the risk of something like that didn’t equal the reward.

 “I think you’ll like it. You seem like a salmon kind of guy.” Tom said and Ryland wasn’t really sure what that meant. What about him screamed salmon?

 But, right, that was the other thing. “Tom, really, I’m fine.” He didn’t really know how to feel about being offered food from a human but it was leaving a sour taste in his mouth. Just a bit. The salmon seemed expensive and obviously special if it was made specifically by Tom’s dietician. He didn’t want to take that from him either.

 Tom raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t eaten since this morning. You wouldn’t take more than a bite anyway, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

 Ryland bit his lip. It wasn’t just about that. He just…didn’t want to take a handout. Besides, he had gone a lot longer without eating, he could hold off until he managed to get back into the walls.

 Whenever that would be.

 “I’m okay, really.” Ryland said, hoping Tom would just leave it at that. But he didn’t. Of course he didn’t.

 “So…let me get this straight.” Tom seemed a bit ruffled, annoyance and confusion mixed onto his features. “You’re perfectly fine taking my food from under my nose, but not when I’m actively offering it to you?” He didn’t seem mad, exactly, just exasperated. “How does that make any sense?”

 It took Ryland a second to process what Tom had just said, but when he did his eyes went wide. “W-Wait, how did you…?” Ryland trailed off as Tom rolled his eyes.

 “You guys call yourselves borrowers. The name kind of speaks for itself.” Tom said and, okay, yeah, fair enough.

 So Tom had already figured out they lived in the walls and took his food, and some other things, in order to survive. Cool, no big deal, that was totally fine.

 It wasn’t, really, but at least Tom didn’t seem mad about it?

 He…did bring up a rather valid point though. Why was Ryland willing to borrow food from Tom but not take that same food from Tom’s hands himself? Well, okay, not the same exact food, but it was the same principle of the matter. Why was it different?

 Was it actually different?

 “Wow, I really got you to think with that one, huh?” Tom spoke through his thoughts and Ryland looked up at him. He was wearing that smirk again, the one that bordered on the edge of teasing. Ryland sighed.

 “...You make a good point.” Ryland admitted and Tom’s smirk turned into a full on grin.

 “So you’ll accept my dinner invitation?” Tom asked.

 “Yeah, alright.” Ryland said, giving in. “Thank you.” He added on, not wanting to forget his manners this time.

 “Of course.” Tom said and then, as if on cue, the timer went off. Ryland blinked. Had it really been 25 minutes already?

 “Well, that was fast.” Tom said what Ryland had been thinking. “Alexa, stop.” The alarm timer turned off and Tom grabbed some oven mitts before taking the food out of the oven. Ryland could see the steam coming off of it and decided to not move any closer toward the very hot dish. Tom turned the oven off and threw the oven mitts onto the counter, toward the opposite end of where Ryland was standing.

 “It’s gotta cool for a bit.” Tom said and Ryland nodded, having already figured that out. “So, how long have you been living here?” Tom asked, so suddenly that Ryland felt startled by the question.

 “Oh, uh…” Ryland bit his lip. He still wasn’t used to this. Talking to a human, telling him things about them. But Tom already knew the most important bits, had worked it all out himself already just based on their species name, so it really shouldn’t be difficult for Ryland to just fill in the missing pieces a bit. “About three weeks?”

 Tom blinked. “Only three weeks?” He seemed surprised. “Huh. Where did you come from then?”

 “I’m…not really sure.” In human terms, Ryland wasn’t even sure where they were now. “It was an apartment, uh, not as nice as this place. It was small, an older woman lived there.” It had been a good place for what it was. The old woman didn’t have the best eyesight and left a lot of things out. Colt had a great time borrowing there and had managed to get quite the haul several times. “She had to be moved to a care home though, so Colt and I decided to head out as well.” They didn’t know when another tenant would move in so it was the better option to move rather than wait around and see.

 “Okay…but how did you even get here?” Tom asked, curious and confused and Ryland understood. It wasn’t like borrowers moving house was the same as it was for a human.

 “Her grandson came by to help her move. So Colt and I snuck into his bag and hitched a ride with him.” Ryland tapped on his arm a bit as he remembered the journey. “We weren’t in there for very long. He went straight to a hotel. Colt and I explored a bit and we thought about staying at the hotel but it didn’t seem very viable. So we decided to try to find another human to hitch a ride on…” Ryland trailed off, realizing where his story was going.

 He had only seen Tom briefly when at the hotel room. But his room had been the nicest they had seen and he’d had so many bags that him and Colt decided to go with him. When Tom checked out, he hadn’t handled any of his own bags, including the one Colt and Ryland had been hiding in. It had been done by someone else, both when loading it into the car, and then the plane, and when putting it into Tom’s place. From there, the two had scurried off into the walls, not seeing Tom at all during that time.

 Tom stared, taking the story in. “Wait, so you…” He stopped, trailing off. “Huh, so you’re from San Francisco.” Tom said instead. That sounded right, at least, Ryland was sure he had heard that name before while living there.

 “Yeah, I guess.” Ryland said with a small shrug. He was just glad Tom wasn’t mad about the two of them sneaking into his luggage. He supposed if he wasn’t mad about them living in his home though, he wouldn’t have been mad about that, but Ryland could never know when it came to humans and their sense of privacy.

 “That’s quite the journey you went on then.” Tom grabbed a plate from the cabinet as he said this and then grabbed a fork to start transferring a small portion of the food onto it for Ryland. “For someone so tiny, at least.” Tom let out a small chuckle at his own words.

 Ryland nodded. He was sure the journey itself had been nothing for Tom. But for Ryland and Colt, it had been the furthest they had ever traveled. They never would have even considered it if they still had family to go and visit. But as it was, both of their parents had since passed away. There was nothing for them anymore in San Francisco, so no real reason to stay.

 Tom slid the plate over and Ryland looked to see Tom had given him a small piece of the salmon, though small was relatively speaking, it was the size of Ryland’s head. There were also a couple of the veggies on there, drizzled in that balsamic glaze Tom had mentioned before. Ryland took a step closer to it and then after a bit of hesitation, stepped onto the plate itself. Tom had put the food in the center of the large plate, so it was the only way Ryland could even reach it.

 He picked up the salmon, very aware of the fact that Tom was staring at him. He tried to ignore it as he gave the salmon a once over. It looked good. It smelled even better. But the best part was how warm it felt in his hands.

 Warm food was a luxury they couldn’t afford. By the time they borrowed food left out, it was cooled way down and it just wasn’t safe to start a fire within the walls of a building to try and cook anything.There was nowhere in Ryland’s memory where he had ever had food that was warm to the touch, that had steam rolling off of it in waves. This would be his first time having a proper human meal.

 He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat at the thought, getting a bit choked up by it all. He wasn’t about to cry in front of the human…not again. Not for something like this, at least.

 Ryland brought the piece of salmon up to lip and took a bite.

 His first thought was, of course, how warm it was.

 The next was the flavor.

 Ryland was used to the bland flavor of stale bread. Or the overt saltiness of chips. He was not used to the flavor profile that this salmon was providing him. It was almost too much, if he was being honest, but also too good for him to stop.

 “Like it?” A voice asked as Ryland swallowed his first bite. Ryland jumped, almost forgetting Tom was there, somehow. He looked up at him, seeing the grin on his face. Ryland could only nod.

 “Yes, yeah, it’s really good.” Ryland praised and then went in for another bite.

 “I knew it. I knew you were a salmon guy.” Tom said and then finally turned to his own portion and started to eat. Ryland wasn’t really sure if he was a salmon guy in particular, but he couldn’t argue. He loved it and if that made him a salmon guy then he wasn’t going to say anything about it.

 The two ate the rest of their dinner in silence. Ryland finished off his salmon, which was already more food than he was used to in one sitting, but he wanted to try the veggies as well. He almost cried right then and there at the freshness of them. Cooked veggies were so much better than old cold ones, that was for sure.

 Ryland couldn’t finish it all, which he felt bad about, but he was full and really couldn’t stomach another bite. Being full was a new feeling but one that felt…good. Satisfying.

 He hoped he could share this feeling with Colt, once he got better.

 He bit his lip, his thoughts now back to Colt. They hadn’t been away for very long but Ryland was still worried. What if he had woken up while he was gone? What if he was alone and scared and freaking out-

 Ryland shook his head and took a deep breath. There was nothing good that came out of spiraling like that. Besides, Ryland was done eating and Tom was wrapping up, he would be back at Colt’s side within the next few minutes.

 Ryland jumped a bit at the sound of a small clang and focused back on Tom. He had put his fork down in the dish, the dish itself now empty. “Hmm, delicious as always.” Tom commented out loud and then placed both his dish and Ryland’s dish into the sink. “So, do you regret taking my ‘handout’?” Tom asked with a smirk, leaning forward a bit in Ryland’s direction.

 He blushed. “No. It was really good. Uh, thank you again.” Ryland said and watched as Tom’s smirk turned into a more genuine smile. Ryland couldn’t help but smile back.

 Maybe Tom wasn’t so bad.

 But just as he thought that, he was reminded of their first interaction.

 “What’s in it for me?” Tom had said that before helping Colt and Ryland winced as he remembered. What had that been about, anyway? Why was Tom acting so different from then? Right now, he genuinely seemed like a nice guy. Maybe a little touchy and straight-forward, but even so, he was nice. He had promised to do better in the touchy-grabby department anyway.

 So what had that been about? And why was Ryland so suddenly filled with dread at remembering?

 “Alright, I know you want to get back to your brother.” Tom said, standing up straight and stretching a bit, his toned muscles flexing alongside the motion. Again, Ryland looked away. “So…can I pick you up?” Tom asked and Ryland felt a little relieved that he was being asked. It seemed like Tom really was listening.

 But that was only confusing Ryland even more.

 “Oh, yeah, but can I just…climb onto your hand. Like the first time?” Ryland asked. He really didn’t feel like getting grabbed again so soon. Not if he could help it.

 He watched as Tom frowned, eyebrows furrowing. And for a terrifying moment, Ryland thought he was going to say no. But then Tom sighed. “Alright, I guess.” He said and placed his hand palm up near him.

 Ryland hesitated a lot less than before but he still did hesitate. This was only his third time being in Tom’s hand, after all. And he still didn’t know what to make of the human. Dinner had been nice, sure, but he’d had to promise something to him in order for him to help Colt and that was…well.

 Ryland was confused.

 At this point, it almost felt like his permanent state of being, alongside the anxiety and tense muscles.

 He settled on Tom’s palm, once again sitting down. He still flinched when Tom’s fingers curled in a bit but they didn’t close all the way which Ryland was grateful for. Tom raised his hand, still a bit too fast for Ryland’s liking, and walked back over to the office and Colt’s temporary bedroom.

 Ryland sighed in relief when he saw Colt was still asleep. He wanted his brother to wake up but not without him there. He didn’t want his brother waking up alone.

 He slid off of Tom’s hand as soon as it came into contact with the table. He heard Tom hum as he took his hand away. “I just realized you need somewhere to sleep too.” Tom said.

 “Oh, uh, I mean, I’m fine. I was just going to stay by Colt’s side anyway.” Ryland said. Sure, it hadn’t been the most comfortable sleep but he didn’t need his own bed.

 Tom seemed to think differently.

 “Yeah, no. Like with the food, I’m not gonna let you decline this. You need to sleep just as much as you need to eat.” Tom said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

 Ryland felt a bit of unease swirl around in his gut. Tom was acting worried about him once again and it still didn’t add up with what had happened earlier.

 “I’ll go get you a blanket, that should be plenty for you to use as a bed.” Tom said and then turned to walk out of the room. Ryland bit his lip and then gained the confidence to yell out.

 “Wait, Tom!” Tom stopped in his tracks and turned around, a look of surprise on his face. Ryland shifted his feet, fidgeting with his hands. “I…what, uh, what did you mean by earlier?”

 Tom blinked and crossed his arms, tilting his head a bit that almost gave an innocent look to him. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific. I said a lot of stuff earlier.”

 Ryland bit back a groan. He decided to rephrase his question. “Why did you…ask for something before you helped Colt?” He paused, his heart beating too fast in his chest. “What did I promise you?” He asked this question lower, almost not wanting to ask it at all. He was scared of the answer.

 Tom was silent for a long moment.

 He was being stared at, looked up and down once more and Ryland hated it. It put him on edge, Tom’s silence was putting him on edge.

 And then Tom smiled, the intense expression clearing up and it was almost like it hadn’t been there in the first place. The human waved his hand in the air. “Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s not important.” His grin was easy-going and kind. “Just focus on your brother for now.”

 Ryland felt like he just experienced whiplash.

 He stood there, staring up at Tom. The human’s kind smile didn’t waver and his words seemed alright but Ryland didn’t miss how he didn’t answer why. Why had he asked for anything in the first place?

 “Right.” Ryland said, his voice practically a whisper.

 Tom hummed. “Seriously Ry-Ry, don’t get into your own head about it. I promise, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” Tom’s words were a bit teasing but no more malicious than their entire dinner conversation had been. Which had really been not at all.

 Ryland was still confused and hesitant, but Tom’s words were, at least, a bit reassuring. “Okay.” He said, his voice a bit louder this time.

 Tom grinned and then turned back around. “I’ll be back in a sec with a blanket.” Tom said and then he was out of the room.

 Ryland let out a small breath before returning to Colt’s side. He checked everything and when nothing seemed changed, he settled and found Colt’s hand again, squeezing it ever so slightly.

 Tom did return a moment later, setting up the blanket for him in a way where it almost looked like a nest. He had also come back with some water in a dish in case Ryland got thirsty during the night, which the borrower did appreciate.

 Maybe his question had been a fluke? It really did seem like Tom cared and he wasn’t being malicious. He was nice, Ryland had actually kind of enjoyed their time eating dinner together. Maybe he really did have nothing to worry about.

 Tom retired for the night, telling Ryland he would check in on them in the morning. Ryland watched as he closed the door, leaving him and Colt alone once again.

 There really wasn’t much else for him to do except sleep but Ryland found himself staying up anyway. He watched the rise and fall of Colt’s chest, finding comfort in the fact that it was still moving despite everything.

 “Please wake up soon.” Ryland whispered to Colt. Maybe his brother would be able to make heads or tails of Tom because as it was, Ryland was completely at a loss.

 For right now, he chose to believe that Tom had good intentions. 

He knew the rules insisted that borrowers were supposed to stay hidden, but times had changed! Tradition just wasn't working as well as it used to, and if the others would just admit that, they could have the chance to revolutionize their way of life! But to Grace's dismay, it turns out suggesting they reveal themselves to humans and openly collaborate was enough to get kicked out… and insulting the leaders probably didn't help.

He hadn't really been kicked out; there was truly only so far one could go when your entire colony existed on a human-built space station floating in the endless void of space. Sure, humans were dangerous - but also the only reason any of them were alive. The borrowers weren't stupid; they had plenty of opportunities to overhear the humans speaking - even communicating with other ships that existed out there. They had long since learned the truth - some cataclysmic event had wiped every star and planet from existence, leaving only a handful of space stations - their current station, dubbed Eden by the human inhabitants, was the only reason Grace and the others were still alive.

Grace was a young borrower, out on his own when the station had been built. Grace's childhood home had been occupied by an elderly man who worked as a professor of Astronomy at the local university. Growing up, Grace would always sneak into his office when his parents were out borrowing - scouring through notes and drawings of the stars that lay beyond. Later in his teen years, he had made the not-so-wise decision to sneak into the professor's bag - wanting to get a glimpse of the lesson and absorb all he could about the cosmos. He had received a vicious scolding from his parents and brother once they found out, and was made to promise that he would never do that again.

But that didn't stop him from continuing his excursions into the office, absorbing every piece of information that he could get his hands on.

So when the time came that he was ready to leave the nest, and the humans just so happened to be launching a newly built space station? He leaped at the opportunity. Turns out he hadn't been the only borrower with the same idea, though more were inclined by the idea of having a limited number of humans around. Despite the motivations, a whole colony had moved onto the space station and had been living here for just about two decades.

None of them had realized at the time that the decision to do so would be the only reason they were still alive….

For all they knew, they could be the last borrowers in existence…

It had been a few months since Grace's outburst, and he'd since moved to a remote section of the ship. It would have been safer to remain near the colony, but Grace just couldn't bring himself to do it. He may struggle with social cues, but it was obvious even to him that nobody in the colony wanted to associate with him. That much was pretty clear even before he went and blew up his reputation. The snide whispers of his fellow borrowers, the fleeting glares as he passed by- he couldn't help but internalize the loathing. Being around others just left him feeling dejected and like he was the staggering waste of carbon. So he finally relented, moving to a section of the station that few others dared go near - where the Butcher of Eden did his dirty work.

Many colony members had seen how the man dispatched the bodies of his own kind, chucking them into a bin of dirt to fertilize the tree they all seemed to worship. Not even mice that scurried throughout the station were spared from his wrath. Since moving, Grace had seen for himself how the man would swiftly behead any mice unfortunate enough to get caught in the traps left scattered about. Those that did not die before being retrieved met a quick death at the end of the butcher's blade. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Grace did NOT like the idea of living so close to such a beast, but as long as he stayed hidden, it wouldn't be an issue.

Grace knew the dangers of living near the man who was feared by both humans and borrowers alike. He knew he was a fool for seeking shelter here. His instincts screamed at him constantly, leaving him with an itchy feeling all over as his primal brain begged him to return to the safety of the colony, away from the predator's lair. But that part of him was swiftly silenced whenever he thought back to the rejection he had faced within the colony. Besides, what better punishment for a borrower that insisted on working with humans, than to be forced to live alongside the cruelest human of them all.

Staying hidden truly was all he could do now.

So here he was, a borrower alone, trying to scrounge together a half-decent nest under the steel-plated floors of the most dangerous human on the ship. He was fortunate enough to find a space under the floors that was hollow and spacious enough to build a half-decent base. His set-up was not one to be envied. The few blankets he had managed to bring with him during the move lay tossed into the corner. They hardly made a suitable bed, but at least managed to stave off the cold a bit. Grace had tried to find more fabric scraps to add to his collection, but the opportunity rarely presented itself. Aside from his sad excuse for a nest, his borrowed supplies lay strown wall nearest his exit. Apart from that, the room was empty. He barely had the supplies to build a nest, never mind get any furniture or decorations.

Maybe I could snatch some of the mice bones that get tossed, add a little decor to the place… he thought sarcastically.

Actually, speaking of mice….. living close to the butcher did come with one advantage - the smells of the composting bodies seemed to lure mice to his workshop. And unfortunatley for the mice, they were quickly dispatched and thrown into the pile of compost themselves - a grim fate indeed.d. But the mice's misfortune granted Grace a rare opportunity. Since they were so small, Grace had seen how the borrower just tossed them into the bin, barely burying them as he did with the larger body parts.

His time around the butcher had forced Grace to adapt as he learned to discern the little lumps on the soil that hid the mice.

It wasn't a pleasant thought, nor was Grace thrilled with the idea of feeding off of dead mice, but he had learned how to make do with what opportunities were presented to him. The other option was to roll over and die of starvation. And despite his sorry state of living, he was still scared to die.

So if he had to choke down some mouse meat to avoid starvation, he would do it.

Grace decided now was as good a time as any to make the trip to retrieve a mouse. That should last him a week or so; two if he rationed it. He grimaced at the thought of choking down more of the dry, tasteless meat, but pushed through for the sake of survival. He grabbed his tools and set out towards the exit.

Grace traversed through the walls, the hair on his back prickling with nerves as she flinched at every minor sound that journeyed through the walls. No matter how many times he had done this trip, the anxiety never ceased.

I need to calm down, he thought to himself; it's late - the human always returns to his sleeping quarters by this time. I just need to get in, get a mouse, and get out! Then I can lock myself in my home for the next couple of weeks and be a sad sack. Okay, that was enough of listening to his own thoughts for now.

Grace made it to his hidden entrance, a small plating of walla that he was able to push loose. It opened up into a concealed spot - a thin nook, just barely wide enough for him to stretch his arms, that lay nestled between the wall and counter. He made his way out of the walls, and immediately froze where he stood. There, just a foot away from his opening lay a mousetrap - primed and ready to clasp over its unsuspecting victims. The trap took up the entire width of the corridor, blocking Grace from going further.

Gosh darn it! Of course this stupid brute has to go and block my ONE entrance into his workshop.

He marched up to the trap, kicking the edge as he released his frustrations. Fine! This was Fine! He was smart, definitely smarter than the mice these traps were designed for. He just had to tread carefully.

Grace tucked his tail against his back, keeping tabs on its position as he carefully stepped onto the wooden platform - careful to avoid the range of the metal clasp. When nothing happened, he let out a breath of relief and gingerly shuffled along the side - back pressed to the wall as he shimmed his way past the metal bits before hopping off the other side. He clapped with pride from his success, immediately regretting the action as he instinctually paused to ensure no humans had heard that. He seemed to be in the clear, as he didn't hear any movements from the room.

He made his way to the edge of the counter, ready to make. the quick sprint and climb up to the compost bin to complete his task. As he stepped out into the light, movement on the far side of the room caught his eye.

There, standing at his full height in the center of the room was The Butcher. Grace watched as he methodically sharpened the knife in his hand, holding it up to the light to inspect the glint.

Grace quickly stepped back, concealing himself in shadows once more.

Crap! Why is he here!? He was supposed to have left hours ago! Fudge nuggets, I need to get out of here!

His thoughts were interrupted as he saw teh human begin to turn in his direction. He needed to go now.

He rushed through the small corridor, panic fueling him as he careened back towards his opening. He caught sight of the mousetraps once more and made the split-second decision to leap over it, ensuring he would waste no time. Unfortunately, despite his namesake, he was anything but graceful. As he leaped into the air, his foot caught against the edge of the trap - disrupting his trajectory and sending him tumbling onto the platform. He landed stomach down on the cool wood. Before he could even process what had happened, a searing white pain shot through his leg as the metal bar slammed down with a relentless force.

The pain was unbearable.

A scream died in his throat, coming out as an unholy amalgamation of a choked cry and a high-pitched whimper. His hand shot to his mouth, desperate to muffle those pathetic sobs that welled up from his throat. He prayed he had not been heard - the pain was unbearable, but he'd rather die a slow death from blood loss or starvation than meet a cruel fate at the hands of the butcher. His hand traveled up to his face. He bit down on the flesh between his thumb and index finger with enough force to draw blood - the metallic taste flooding his mouth as he desperately tried to stifle his whimpers - nearly gagging himself with the force with which he bit down.

Through the pain fogging his mind, he heard the thundering rattle of metal sheets as footsteps approached his position. Oh god, it's over for me.

The fur along the back of his neck prickled as he sensed a large presence moving towards him. An involuntary whimper escaped him as he felt the trap being pulled backwards, into the light, toward his death. No longer concerned with his silence, he released his hand from his grasp, claws scraping at the wood as he desperately tried to pull himself free. His breath became erratic. The fur on his back raised, sending shivers through his body as his instinct screamed at him to never have his back to a predator. As light flooded over him, his instincts won out over his desire to not look his death in the eyes. Propping himself up on his arms as he struggled to glance over his shoulder and get eyes on the threat and oh-

oh.

How we wished in that moment that he had just blindly accepted his death.

The Butcher kneedled over him, enshrouded in shadows as he blocked the light emanating from behind him. The human towered over him, eyes uncaring as his Grace was pulled fully into the light - his only sense of coverage being the shadow of the being that would be his demise. His breath grew erratic, as his eyes caught sight of the massive butcher's knife that glinted in the light, held primed and ready to swing down on the Butcher's soon-to-be victim. A broken sob tore from his throat at the sight, all higher brain functions making way for animalistic instincts as fear overtook his body. His struggles renewed, nerves be damned as he turned his back to the predator once more, scrambling for purchase against the grain. His instincts screamed at him to get away.

His breaths came out jagged and broken, growing more erratic as his nails started to bleed from the scratching of the grain.

He felt no different than a pitiful mouse in that moment.