Midnight Rain - Strattland
Summary:
Some people prefer sunlight. Eva Stratt always liked storms better.
Inspired by Midnight Rain - Taylor Swift
Staring: Ryland Grace x Eva Stratt, Rocky
Rain hammered against the deck through the middle of the night while the naval vessel serving as the Project Hail Mary command center continued along its scheduled route toward shore. They would reach port in only a few more weeks.
Dim orange safety lights glowed across the outer corridors, reflecting against the wet metal floors while automated announcements repeatedly warned the crew about slippery surfaces. Past midnight, even those warnings finally fell silent.
Stratt stood alone near the edge of the deck, one hand wrapped around the cold metal railing. Rain soaked through her hair and clothes alike, plastering strands of red against her face as if she intended to let the storm pass straight through her.
She knew it was dangerous.
She also knew standing out here made absolutely no sense.
But after weeks of caffeine, sleeplessness, endless meetings, endless decisions, endless people demanding answers from her every waking hour, she was tired.
Their voices had become too loud.
Too constant.
The rain made the world quiet for a little while.
“Hey!”
The familiar voice shattered the silence beneath the storm, followed by hurried footsteps slipping slightly against the wet deck.
Of course it was him again.
Ryland Grace emerged through the rain wearing his bright yellow waterproof jacket, looking somewhere between worried and irritated.
“This is dangerous,” he called out over the storm. “What are you doing out here?”
One hand gripped the railing to steady himself while the ship rocked beneath them.
“Use your brain,” Stratt replied flatly. “The rain calms me down.”
Grace frowned as the downpour continued around them.
“You’re going to get sick.”
“Probably.”
She sounded completely unconcerned.
Grace let out a long sigh before pulling down the hood of his jacket.
“Okay,” he said. “Then I’m staying with you.”
Stratt turned slightly.
“You’re doing what?”
“Use your brain,” he repeated, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Research is stressful. People should be allowed to have time alone sometimes.”
Then he added:
“And if you jump overboard, I’m jumping too.”
That finally made her laugh.
“Titanic?” she asked. “You watch more movies than I thought, Dr. Grace.”
“If you actually jumped, no, I definitely wouldn’t jump after you,” he admitted with a quiet laugh. “Education robbed me of all my dramatic instincts. But I would try to save you.”
Silence settled over the deck again.
Grace stayed there beside her, letting the rain soak through his clothes just like she did.
After a while, he spoke softly.
“It’s cold.”
“Mhm.”
So they stood there together, completely drenched.
The night ended with security officers yelling at them through a megaphone for being outside while the warning lights were still orange.
They both received written warnings.
Not that it mattered much.
Everyone on the ship knew exactly who held the most authority there.
The next morning, Grace found a bottle of fever medicine and instant mint tea sitting on the corner of his lab desk.
He had a pretty good idea who left them there.
The whole thing had started because he couldn’t sleep.
While wandering the inner corridors late at night, one of the younger security guards had nervously stopped him and claimed there was a woman crying alone on the outer deck.
A ghost.
Ridiculous.
They were running the most advanced scientific project in human history, not starring in a haunted ship documentary. Besides, what kind of ghost stood in the rain just to get soaked?
His second thought had been more reasonable.
Burnout.
Too many people trapped together for too long in a confined space. Too much pressure. Too little rest.
Someone might have been close to breaking.
So despite being very much the kind of person who hated horror movies, Grace forced himself to go outside and check.
The woman turned out to be Stratt.
And she had not been crying.
She had simply stood there alone beneath the storm, letting the rain drench her completely.
Grace still did not fully understand why.
But a rain-soaked warship deck in the middle of the night was not a place she should have been standing alone.
Was she okay?
Or had the pressure finally become too much—
He stopped himself there.
Better not to assume.
So he walked over to her instead.
. . . . . .
Rain tapped softly against the biodome.
Grace stirred awake slowly, half buried beneath sleep, still caught somewhere between memory and reality.
For a moment he thought he was still dreaming.
Rain?
On Erid?
“Grace. Wake up. Open door.”
Rocky’s voice echoed from outside alongside several impatient knocks.
Grace dragged himself upright, washed his face, brushed his teeth badly and quickly, then stumbled toward the entrance.
“Coming, coming.”
The moment the door slid open, cool damp air rushed toward him.
Rain.
Actual rain.
Grace blinked in disbelief as the scent of wet soil filled the air. Technically the smell came from bacteria in the dirt, but that still counted.
“You guys made rain?”
His blue eyes lit up immediately.
“We make ocean for Grace,” Rocky replied proudly. “Why not make rain for Grace too? Close door.”
“Right, sorry.”
Grace pulled his cap on to shield himself from the drizzle.
“Rain helps soil. Plants grow better. Grace can grow more trees.”
“There’s already one,” Grace said, pointing toward the large tree near his home. Special, of course, because of the xenonite reinforcement, but still.
If the biodome became stable enough, maybe someday he really could grow forests here using the seeds left aboard the Hail Mary.
“Want many more,” Rocky said happily. “Trees. Flowers. Rare woods. Hardest material in galaxy.”
That still amused Grace a little.
Wood truly was one of the rarest materials in the galaxy because trees could only exist in worlds capable of sustaining life.
The Eridians found that endlessly fascinating.
“Okay,” Grace agreed.
It was a good first step.
Together they walked along the artificial shoreline beneath the gentle rain.
After a while, Rocky asked:
“Why Grace wake up late?”
Grace smiled faintly.
“I dreamed about someone from Earth.”
“Friend of Grace? Person Grace send Beatles to?”
“Mhm.”
Rocky made a small dissatisfied sound.
“Rocky not like her. She force Grace.”
Grace laughed quietly.
“Yeah. She did.”
Then he glanced upward toward the falling rain.
“But if she hadn’t forced me, I wouldn’t have ended up here either. I think she had her reasons.”
“Still not like her.”
“That’s okay, Rocky.”
Grace smiled softly.
“We probably won’t ever meet again anyway.”
The rain reminded him of her.
And suddenly he found himself wondering if she still stood in storms like that.
. . . . .
A woman in a yellow rain jacket stood quietly beneath the falling rain.
No longer cold.
No longer exhausted.
No longer carrying the weight of the world alone.
— End —
Notes:
It's raining in my town today. I was talking to a friend and we got the idea that there are people who prefer rain to sunshine, and we thought Grace might like rain too. And yes, Eva does as well. And I saw some fan art of Eva wearing a yellow jacket; it matches perfectly. Enjoy reading as always, and yes, as always, I'm translating from my own Thai writing. Please forgive any awkwardness in reading.
