#ofginjxints

𝐡𝐨𝐰  𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠  𝐡𝐚𝐝  𝐢𝐭  𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧?  𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬?  𝐚  𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫⁇  𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞⁈  …  time  had  become  a  soft,  formless  thing  aboard  the  hail  mary.  impossible  to  measure,  impossible  to  hold.  with  no  sunrise  or  sunset,  no  shift  in  light  or  temperature,  the  universe  simply  stretched  out  into  one  long  continuous  moment.  just  the  endless  void  outside  and  the  steady,  indifferent  hum  of  the  ship. rocky  had  tried  to  keep  track  at  first  …  whiteboards  filled  with  neat  rows  of  tally  marks,  then  the  backs  of  clipboards,  and  then  the  walls  themselves.  eventually  they  were  scratching  days  into  the  paint  with  a  screwdriver  like  some  stranded  half-mad  caveman.  anything  to  keep  from  slipping.  his  coma  had  ended  early  —  far  too  early  —  but  he  hadn't  a  clue  as  to  why.  rocky  wasn't  a  doctor  (  he  was  their  engineer!  they  remembered  that.  they'd  had  plenty  of  time  to  remember  …  ),  and  he  certainly  wasn't  going  to  go  messing  around  with  delicate  medical  equipment,  to  risk  waking  the  others  early  and  hurting  them  by  accident  …  he  didn't  know  how  to,  even  if  he  wanted  to.  and  so  he  was  alone. 

eighteen  months,  give  or  take  …  hurtling  towards  tau  ceti  at  1.5g,  near  lightspeed.  with  nothing  but  equations,  maintenance  logs,  the  AI  voice  of  the  ship  herself,  and  his  own  breathing  for  company. 

and  then  commander  yao  died.  it  wasn't  violent.  no  alarms  no  warnings.  he  just  …  never  woke  up.  there  must  have  been  some  complication?  some  failure  in  his  life  support?  rocky  didn't  know.  they  simply  found  yao  still  and  cold  in  his  pod  —  the  engineer  had  taken  to  sleeping  in  the  lab  by  then,  because  being  surrounded  by  the  silent,  comatose  bodies  of  the  rest  of  the  crew  was  simply  too  eerie  to  bear  … rocky  tried  CPR,  tried  shouting,  tried  getting  the  stupid  robot  arms  to  do  something  —  that  was  it's job,  right?  the  hail  mary's  nurse,  their  caretaker!  nothing  worked.  after  that  the  ship  felt  different  …  heavier.  and  grace?  grace  became  the  last  thread  holding  rocky  to  sanity. 

and  so  the  engineer  kept  watch  (  he  didn't  trust  the  robot  nurse  anymore  ).  he  checked  vitals,  checked  the  pod  integrity,  tried  to  decipher  medical  readouts  he  barely  understood  …  what  began  as  practicality  quickly  turned  into  ritual.  and  then  ritual  became  compulsion. they  moved  back  into  the  pod  room,  sleeping  curled  against  the  wall  beside  grace.  the  engineer  set  alarms  to  check  the  systems  every  few  hours  …  then  every  hour  …  then  half  hour.  eventually  they  stopped  trusting  the  alarms  too  and  just  stayed  awake  until  their  body  forced  them to  collapse.  he  talked  to  the  scientist  every  now  and  then,  voice  hoarse  from  disuse.  soft  things,  gentle  words  of  encouragement,  apologies  for  not  being  there  to  save  their  captain.  mostly,  rocky  just  watched.  kept  vigil.  the  hum  of  the  hail  mary's  life  support  systems  became  a  comfort.  the  rise  and  fall  of  ryland's  chest,  the  soft  beeping  of  the heart  monitor,  became  the  only  proof  rocky  had  that  he  wasn't  completely  and  utterly  alone  out  here  …  he  couldn't  lose  another  person. 

 the  engineer  was  slumped  in  the  corner,  head  tipped  back  uncomfortably  against  the  wall,  (  he'd  been  awake  for  thirty  hours  …  he  hadn't  meant  to  fall  asleep  )  when  the  gentle  voice  of  the  hail  mary  stirs  them —  ᴇʏᴇ  ᴍᴏᴠᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ  ᴅᴇᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ  — it  takes  rocky  a  moment  to  understand  …  the  flashing  lights,  the  soft  mechanical  whir,  the  unmistakable  sound  of  another  human  being  stirring.  coughing.  spluttering,  opening  their  eyes.

rocky  makes  a  sound  that  isn't  quite  human  …  a  choked  and  broken  exhale  that  catches  in  the  back  of  their throat.  part  relief,  part  disbelief,  and  part  grief  that  he  had  been  carrying  for  eighteen  long  months.  he  stumbles  forwards,  hands  shaking  as  they  reach  for  the  only  other  living  human  for  lightyears.  alive.  miraculously,  impossibly  alive.  beaming,  tears  brimming,  he  breaths:

❝  grace  ‼  hi  !  hi,  grace,  you—  you're  awake  ‼  ❞  hands  hover  before  reaching  out  to  cradle  the  scientist's  face,  desperate  to  confirm  this  is  really  happening,  quickly  moving  to  help  the  man  up  sit  up.

it wasn't the smartest move, showing up at their home after she'd had a little too much to drink. but she'd had an unfortunate encounter with her ex, and she'd wanted to talk to somebody she felt actually cared for her. somebody who'd always made all of her problems disappear. she'd just come over to talk, but as soon as they opened the door, she felt herself push forward to kiss them. pulling back without feeling the guilt she probably should have. "i... i think it was about time for that, wasn't it?"

based on here

"No time for questions! Time for moving!"

That was all the answer he was going to get, it seemed, until they reached their destination. Which thankfully, wasn't long. And that only made the Eridian's impatience more confusing. But suddenly, Rocky came to a stop, bouncing up and down in delight.

He chittered and crooned, waving one of his arms delightedly at four other Eridians in xenonite suits that stood before them. The ones that had apparently been waiting for their arrival.

He had a choice to make, and precious little time to do it in before window closed on itself and the choice would be made for him. He was about to walk away! The problem was that, over the span of the past thirty minutes, Aziraphale had had a lot of information to process. Some might even say too much information.

"Crowley WAIT- ", the angel cried out, a slight tremble to his voice. For ages, there had been a war waging inside of him between what was right and what felt right. Today, the final battle in that war was being waged.

He didn't wait to see whether Crowley would stop, a few hurried steps closing the distance between them, hands reaching out and then balling into tight fists right before actually making contact. "-please...wait. I can't do this without you, but -"

- but I have to obey.

The words lay on the tip of his tongue, but he almost didn't dare utter them again. He couldn't begin to count how many times he'd used that argument. It was useless.