#ler!simon

Grace banged his fist on the table and Simon flinched. “Simon, if you would just listen for a second—“

“NO! I’m not gonna fucking listen! How many times have I told you I don’t want that fuckin’ bot near me?!”

“I know. Listen, I don’t like needles either, but we have to take your blood to check for—“

“You don’t hafta do anything!” Simon exclaimed. “Just shove me out the airlock and let me DIE already!”

I took a sharp inhale of breath. Simon hadn’t asked for us to let him die since the first few weeks he was with us. Something must be going on with him aside from this argument.

Grace didn’t seem to see that. He was getting angrier and angrier. “Are you serious? Do you hear yourself right now?” He took a breath, standing up from his chair and shoving it aside, hard. “If you would just stop interrupting me—“

“Why do you care so much about my mutations anyway? Do you think I’m a fuckin’ monster?” Simon snarled.

“ENOUGH!” Grace exploded. “I can’t do this anymore! I need to take your blood to make sure the mutations aren’t killing you. I don’t want you to fucking die, Simon!”

Simon seemed taken aback by the curse. I think it was the first time either of us had heard Grace curse. “Why?” he demanded.

“Because I love you!” Grace cried. 

There was a stunned silence. Even Grace seemed surprised at himself. 

I slipped silently out of the lab and went to hide in the cockpit. 

I hated it when they fought like that. It made so much noise, and this ship was tiny and impossible. I had been thinking lately about Stratt’s deliberations over whether to put the crew in a coma, and how all the research showed we would go crazy and kill each other. 

That was assuming they’d be dealing with me, Grace, Yao, and Ilyukhina—a mild-tempered crew—without knowing Simon and Rocky would eventually join us. That was assuming we’d die after a year or two of completing the mission. 

Simon’s arrival brought out a side of Grace I had never seen before. Grace became completely swept up in making sure Simon was okay, so much so that I faded quietly into the background. Simon provoked the anger issues that Grace had spent years, or so he told me, taming. I had begun to understand the type of person he was when he got kicked out of academia. 

I fiddled with the screens in the cockpit, mindlessly exploring the maps of stars and systems nearby on our course to Erid. 

I liked Simon. I really did. There had been a nearly perfect few weeks, after Simon got over the initial shock of living with us, and before he had started picking fights with Grace daily. The four of us spent most of our time in the don’t-go-crazy-room, exchanging stories of the worlds we grew up in. He was a good guy, and he clearly liked the both of us. We had enjoyed having new company. Grace and I allowed ourselves to behave like kids instead of the saviors of humanity.

It had been so complicated recently. The first few arguments, I had intervened. But then I realized we needed at least one emotionally regulated human around, so I let them yell at each other until they exhausted their voices. 

I listen carefully for noises in the main body of the ship. The yelling had stopped. I heard Rocky’s voice, too far away to be picked up by the translator on my laptop, but I could tell it was somewhat angry. I heard the murmured tones of reconciliation, and then the beeps of Armando instructing Grace on how to draw blood from Simon’s good arm. Then, there was silence. 

I turned back to my own tasks, opening up my laptop and working on some code to automate a systems check for the ship so we didn’t have to do it as often. I had been coding a lot recently. I had become used to being by myself. 

I was so focused I didn’t hear two pairs of footsteps approaching the cockpit. When Grace peeked his head inside, I startled. 

“Hey,” Grace said. 

“Hey,” I replied lamely. 

He navigated his body through the narrow space of the cockpit. Simon trailed after him. I glanced down and saw that they were holding hands. 

Oh. 

That must’ve been why the past few weeks were so tense—they had finally figured out their feelings. I wanted to feel happy for them, but the sight only managed to drive another pang of loneliness between my ribs. 

I chewed my lip as I watched them share a look. It was too quiet for my liking all of a sudden. 

“We’re sorry,” Grace said bluntly. 

“For what?” I asked tiredly.

“For fightin’ too much,” Simon said softly. 

I set my laptop aside and rubbed my eyes. “Okay,” I muttered. 

It was quiet again. Somehow, it didn’t feel resolved. 

“Are you okay?” Simon ventured.

“No,” I said quietly. “I don’t like yelling. I’m tired. And I’ve never seen you act the way you have been acting the past few weeks,” I said to Grace.

Grace winced. 

“And I’m lonely.”

They looked guilty. Grace dropped Simon’s hand. 

“No, don’t do that,” I sighed.

I picked up Simon’s hand and put it back in Grace’s. 

“Just get your act together, and I don’t want to hear more yelling on my ship,” I said firmly, as if that was the end of it.

*** 

Technically, no one was fighting anymore. Grace and Simon had evened out into a peaceful existence. They solved their disagreements without yelling. It was quiet again. 

I looked away when they cuddled. I left the room when they kissed. I stopped touching both of them and I kept my distance. They were a pair now, and I didn’t want to interrupt that.

Maybe that’s immature of me. Maybe I’m just punishing myself here. Maybe it’s unrealistic, given that those two are the only humans I’ll ever see again and I need them like I need oxygen. Maybe it’s unfair to them. Maybe they miss me.

I’m sure they don’t. Honeymoon phase, right? I don’t know. Their relationship is definitely atypical of what I was used to seeing on Earth. I had never asked Grace about his dating history, but I got the sense that he wasn’t interested in romance or sex or any of that. I guess that’s why it took me so long to figure out why they had been fighting so much.  

Rocky’s new favorite way to piss me off is to find me in the cockpit (my permanent hiding spot, it seems) and use his echolocation to narrate Simon and Grace’s more intimate activities wherever they are in the ship.

“What is purpose of using mouth, question?” Rocky needled. “Grace puts mouth all over Simon body. Very gross. Disgu~ust.” 

“Stop it, Rocky, I don’t wanna know,” I sighed. It’s bad enough that I can hear them going at it when I’m trying to sleep. 

Rocky did the Eridian equivalent of a chuckle. He paused for a few seconds, echolocating to another part of the ship. “Another question: why Grace not take clothes off?”

I turned to Rocky. “What?”

“Grace touch Simon intimately, but not other way around,” Rocky explained. 

“That’s… strange,” I murmured. I caught myself: “Wait—this is none of my business.”

Rocky chittered smugly.

***

So, I did some research. Shut up.

I don’t know a ton about Simon in comparison to the way I am extremely familiar with Dr. Ryland Grace. I could be right that Grace is somewhere on the asexuality spectrum. And that would probably translate to a slightly unique relationship between him and Simon. 

I don’t know why I care so much. It’s just boredom, I’m sure. I was just curious. I’m cooped up and I’ve gotten nosy. Nothing else.

***

I’m stuck in the same room as them. 

There was a hairline crack in Rocky’s tunnel that we hadn’t noticed and some ammonia leaked into the dormitory. Rocky ordered us to hang out in the lab until it’s fixed. 

“Hey, stranger,” Grace said lightly as I set my stuff down in the corner of the lab. 

“Hey,” I said, turning around and trying to bury myself in data.

“Whatcha working on?” Simon asked, wandering over. 

I perk up a little, always happy to talk about my work. “The Hail Mary has been collecting spectral data during our journey to Erid,” I explain. “I’ve been analyzing it as we go. Some cool stuff in here.”

Grace walked over to see, ‘ooh’ing and ‘ahh’ing as I flipped through photos the ship’s cameras had taken. It’s the first time they’ve paid attention to me in a while. My fingers trembled slightly on the keyboard. 

Simon put his hand over my shaky one. I froze. I realized they were both very close behind me and I felt two conflicting needs—for some air and for more, more, more. 

“Are you okay?” Grace asked. I had stopped talking mid-sentence. 

“I’m fine,” I said, turning back to my work. Simon stopped my spinny chair halfway, and then turned me around to face them. 

Simon’s hand was braced on the desk next to me and Grace was also hovering very close. I was pretty much speechless. I hadn’t been this physically close to a person in a long time. 

“Something’s wrong with you,” Simon said bluntly. “We didn’t fix it last time and m’tired of it. Spill.”

“I- I’m lonely,” I said, again. “But I’m trying to give you guys space to…be you. To be…a thing together.”

“We’re not anything without you,” Grace replied, his eyes bigger and wetter than usual. Damn, it’s going to be difficult to keep my distance if he keeps looking at me like that.  “You are,” I said. “You’re definitely something. I don’t… I don’t know what you guys are. But I’m trying not to interrupt.” 

“But you’re forcing yourself into solitary confinement,” Simon all but growled. 

I got the sense that he knew a thing or two about solitary confinement.

“And stop saying ‘interrupt,’ because you won’t,” Grace added. “We’re a crew. A team. And we need you.”

“Okay?” Simon probed.

“Okay,” I agreed. 

***

Rocky finished dealing with the ammonia leak. 

Grace and Simon had been gracious enough not to sit in each other’s laps and make eyes at each other in my presence, but I still scurried off to the cockpit as soon as possible. 

I almost forgot about the agreement I’d made with them, so used to my routine of hiding. Simon poked his head into the cockpit and cleared his throat. 

I startled.

“You’re doing it again,” he complained. Grace peered into the hatch behind him. 

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly. 

“That’s fine,” Grace said cheerfully. “We’ll come to you. As long as you need us to.” 

Simon sat himself down in the chair next to me and Grace floated around the small room, examining all the little objects and clutter I had accumulated in the past few weeks. A small model that I had used to teach Rocky yesterday about circuitry was disturbed by Grace’s movements and bonked me on the head. 

It was unusual to have them both in the tiny space I had claimed. 

It was much more crowded.

I yelped as Simon grabbed my waist and repositioned me. “What are you doing?” I asked, blushing furiously at the close proximity.

“M’braiding your hair. Stop moving,” he replied gruffly. 

I relaxed after a few minutes. I forgot how soothing it is to have someone touch your hair. Grace watched with a pleased smile as my eyelids fluttered to half-closed. I felt my heartbeat slow and the prickly feeling of emptiness in my skin, of a lack of sensation, subside.

I felt tears well up in my eyes when he tied off the braid with an elastic and patted my shoulder. Grace sat up in alarm. “Why are you crying?” he asked anxiously.

I wiped furiously at my eyes. “It just reminded me of my mom. She used to… braid my hair.”

I felt Simon’s strong arms—one flesh, and one prosthetic—close around my waist again and pull me in. He hugged me to his broad chest. I was smaller in comparison, a detail that felt strangely good. “It’s okay,” he murmured quietly. “Don’t cry.”

Grace pushed himself forward and hugged me from the front.

I took it in slowly. 

Visuals? Grace’s corny t-shirt. Smell? Simon’s shampoo, and the faint smell of sweat. Probably mine. Hearing? My crew’s steady breathing in my ears, and Rocky clanking away distantly in his tunnels. Touch? Strong arms surrounding me. Taste? The salt of my own tears.

I was still overwhelmed. 

“Guys…”

“Mm?” Grace murmured. 

“I can’t…”

“You can’t what?” Simon encouraged. 

“I can’t handle this much, but I need more,” I exhaled shakily. Simon tried to pull away. “No, don’t stop—“

I was crying again. 

Grace leaned back from the hug to look at my face. God, he was so close to me. 

“Fudge,” he whispered. He looked up at Simon. “Si, we messed up.”

“M’sorry,” Simon murmured into my hair. “We didn’t know it was this bad.” 

I struggled against his grip. “I can’t—I can’t be doing this…”

“Why?” Simon murmured, arms loosening. 

“I’m too needy, it’s too much, this isn’t normal—“

“S’not too much,” Simon interrupted.

“Your feelings are perfectly normal,” Grace chided in a gentle, teacherly voice. “This is what happens when people get lonely and isolated.” 

“But you guys are—“

“Just shut up and let us love you,” Simon interrupted. 

I stopped protesting. 

“Our lives aren’t normal anymore,” Grace muttered, stroking my cheek gently. “Why should the three of us try to be normal?”

“Okay,” I said. And it really was final this time. 

I went limp and compliant in Simon’s arms. He made a pleased noise and turned me around to face him. He pressed me closer and rubbed a hand up and down my back. I buried my face in his neck. 

It felt so good, I almost felt wrong enjoying it. 

Simon understood that, I think. It took him a while to get used to us touching him in the beginning. He was always saying something about Eden and being a sinner. 

Grace communicated something to Simon behind my back, and I heard Simon chuckle and then make an “mm” noise. 

“Hey,” Grace said. “Can we cheer you up?”

“What do you mean?” I mumbled, still too busy enjoying the hug.

“I wanna see a smile,” Simon said into my hair. 

“No, I’m too busy being pathetic right now,” I muttered. 

“Why couldn’t the astronaut book a room on the moon?” Grace said, already chuckling at the answer. 

“Why?” I grumbled into Simon’s shirt. 

“Because it was full,” Grace wheezed. 

“I’m not laughing at that bullshit,” I deadpanned. Simon chuckled at my reaction. 

I cracked a smile despite myself. 

“Theeere we go,” Grace grinned. 

Simon poked at my sides. “How about a laugh?”

“Sihimon, don’t—“

“Ooh, good idea,” Grace snickered. 

I tried to use my inertia to get away, but Grace was in the way. I pushed off of his chest to try to get to the door, but then Simon blocked me. 

“You’re not gonna escape if it’s both of us,” Simon chuckled. 

They grabbed me and I squirmed wildly, legs pinwheeling like a cartoon character in zero gravity. 

“C’mon guys, I’m not sad anymore, just hohold on—“

“Nope. Too late,” Grace replied. “You’ve been a sad sack for too long.”

“Sad sack?” Simon chuckled, busy wrangling my arms and pulling them over my head. 

“Yep,” Grace said cheerfully, wiggling his fingers towards my now-exposed torso. 

I squealed and squirmed around. “Grace! Don’t- Simon, let me go right now,” I demanded. 

“Sorry, you need this,” Simon justified. 

Grace buried his fingers under my arms and I shrieked. My body tensed up with the urgent need to pull my arms down. I struggled uselessly against Simon.

“Aww, is someone ticklish right here?” Grace teased, poking and digging one finger under each of my arms. 

Simon and I both cringed at the baby-talk. I was too busy laughing, but Simon groaned in embarrassment: “Grace….”

Grace laughed at us. “Simon, I’m not even tickling you right now, why are you embarrassed?”

I turned my head to look at Simon’s red cheeks. “You’re cuhute,” I giggled. 

“You’re not in a position to make fun,” Simon growled, pinching up my side to add on to Grace’s tickling.

I shrieked with laughter. “AHAHAHA- wait, I’m sohorry- Simon, Grahahace, I’m sorry—“

Grace’s hands migrated down to my stomach. He yanked up my shirt to untuck it from my tied-off jumpsuit. “Maybe now you’ll laugh at my jokes,” he commented, clawing rapidly at my bare tummy. 

“YOUR JOHOKES SUCK AHAHASS—“ 

Simon sucked his teeth. “I think you’ll regret saying that…”

“What do you call two dinosaurs who got into a car crash?” Grace asked. 

“I dohon’t knohohow—“

“Tyrannosaurus wrecks!” Grace giggled. 

“Not- FUHUNNY!!” My protest turned into a scream of laughter as he nuzzled his stubbly face into my belly. 

Simon’s thumb massaged into my hip and I shrieked. “I don’t know, you seem to be laughin’ a lot, angel,” he murmured in my ear. My face burned hotter at the pet name—I’d only ever heard him use it for Grace. 

Grace pouted. “You stole my line.”

“I have a better joke for you,” Simon said conspiratorially into my ear. “He’s right in front of you.”

Grace sputtered in indignation as I laughed from genuine humor. “Wha- Hey! Not cool!”

Grace squeezed rapidly up my thighs. “What are you laughing at, huh?”

I descending into snorting giggles. “S’NOHOHOT MY FAULT! It was SIMON!!”

“Oh yeah?” Simon teased in my ear. “You laughed, though, sweetheart.” 

He pinched up my ribs and kneaded into each pressure point with terrifying accuracy. 

“You laugh, you lose,” Simon added in a tone that sent shivers down my spine. 

I let my head fall weakly onto Simon’s shoulder, kicking desperately. My laughter turned breathy. Their fingers slowed down. 

“You feeling better?” Grace asked. 

“Noho, I’m feeling like I’ve been tohortured,” I fired back. One reprimanding squeeze from Simon set me straight. 

“Good,” Grace said with a dopey smile. He leaned up and pressed a scratchy kiss under my jaw. 

I froze. What did that mean? It must have showed on my face, because I felt a laugh rumble through Simon’s chest.