#taeswolfie

In the little holodeck, Ryland leans against Rocky's ball, computer in lap as he shows Rocky some of Earth's scenery. "One thing I miss is the fog." Ryland muses. "What about you, Rock? What do you miss most about home?"

"Mm." Rocky hums. "My mate."

"Wait, what?" Ryland sits up and turns to look at his friend in shock. "You got a mate?"

"Yes."

"I mean, not that you- I'm sure- I'm- what's their name?"

"Name is," Rocky sings a flourish of melodic tunes, sweetened by his affection.

Ryland nods. "It's beautiful. How long you been together?"

"186.3 years."

"Like the honeymoon phase."

"No understand."

"That's a joke, Rock. That's a long time. You've been together a long time."

Rocky lightly touches the gem embedded in his arm. A gift from his love. "Is not enough." Ryland's lips twitch in a small smile. "Grace have mate, question?"

"Uh, I do, actually, yeah. Surprisingly."

"Why surprise, question?"

Ryland tilts his head back, looking at the simulated sky. "Because people have thought that I have my head in the clouds and I didn't really wanna live in the real world." He heaves a little sigh, glancing at Rocky before looking back down at his hands. "They're right. But she's always stuck by me. Ever since we were kids. She keeps me grounded."

"What is Grace mate name, question?"

"Her name is Y/n." His tone is soft with his own affection.

"I like Y/n."

He huffs a laugh. "Yeah. Me too."

"How long Grace Y/n mate, question?"

"20 years."

"Long time."

Dear Ryland,

I heard once that writing letters is supposed to be good for you. Something about catharsis and processing emotions. Even if you can't send them it's supposed to help, I guess.

I've never cared for journaling, and this almost feels like it. You can call it letters all you want, but they're not going anywhere but this notebook. June thinks I should give it a try, though, so here we are.

It's hard to believe that a few months ago I was telling you me and June were expecting, then a couple weeks later we were visited by Stratt and she told us what she had done.

She said being his only family we deserved at least the truth. From what you told me of her, it didn't seem like her to be so forthcoming about her actions. But then she conveniently reminded me of the three-inch thick NDA I was made to sign for you to be able to have any sort of contact with me while you were working for her. It was protection for the project, a way to make sure I couldn't speak about anything you might overshare in your excitement and/or exhaustion. Of course, even if I hadn't signed it and she told me what she did anyway, she has the full pardon from the world government for any crimes committed anywhere. The NDA was just the icing on the cake. Or the salt in the wound.

That's the part where you would have laughed.

Honestly, I don't know what else to say right now. I'm so used to you being able to respond to me, even if it took a while sometimes. I keep waiting every Saturday for you to call me, and then when you don't I pick up the phone to call you. You still don't answer. I just get your stupid voicemail.

God, I feel so stupid writing this. I shouldn't be doing this.I don't see the point in any of it. What's it going to accomplish? Closure? What closure? You're never going to see this anyway. But I know I'll never hear the end of it from June if I don't give it an honest try.

Fine. I'll do my best. For her. Only so she won't worry about me so much.

It just would be so much easier if these letters were real.

Dear Ryland,

June brought us to the beach. The one we always used to go to when we were younger, remember? She said she wanted Rylie to share some memories with us there. I think she's also trying to help me face your ghost without getting upset by reminding me of the good times instead of everything you're missing out on.

It wasn't as warm as it was back then, but Rylie didn't seem to mind. She hasn't really learned what's lacking yet. I know she'll figure it out eventually, that our sun is dying. But I don't know if I have the heart to teach her.

Instead I let her run around on the damp sand, making castles and villages. She yelped and giggled when the waves would rush up and splash her legs. I showed her some of the games we had made up. I couldn't remember half the rules, but she still had a blast.

I sat on the shore and watched the waves for a while tonight, just remembering all the fun we had here. And how I wish you were here still.

I didn't cry this time. Are you proud of me?

I still miss you.