the book butterfly

‘Thank you,’ Simon murmured. The vibration of his voice in his chest hummed pleasantly against his own. Grace tried to say something, anything really, in response but failed. The noise dying somewhere in his throat.

It wasn’t the first time they had touched or even the first time they had hugged. Grace had always been an affectionate person. A fact that was not helped by his extended isolation. That hadn’t changed when he met the man in front of him, floating through space and covered in blood. It was never something that Simon had initiated though. Beyond the occasional nudge, Grace had always been the one to reach out first. Until now.

Finally, Ryland lifted his arms. He circled them around Simon’s waist. Slowly as if not to spook him, but he wasn’t going anywhere. Something invisible had shifted and cracked open between them. Simon tugged him closer as best as he could.

It was just a stupid capsule stain. A bunch of microbes on a glass slide that he had suspended in ink and preserved so it wouldn’t degrade over time. A small, silly gift that Ryland had been able to cobble together while floating through space towards Erid. A way to celebrate. They finally had their hands on Taumoeba-82.5. After multiple near death experiences and not nearly enough sleep. It was done. Rocky had insisted on celebrating, not that Grace or Simon had argued. They had broken out the vodka all too happily. Ryland also decided to try and find them both gifts. Nothing major. A simple thank you for each of them.

Rocky’s gift was rather easy solve. He had known the Eridian longer and he knew that he wanted to give him something as a reminder of Earth. Simon on the other hand…

Grace knew how much the man loved the stars. He spent hours on the viewing deck staring out into the glittering dark. Ryland found him sleeping there occasionally. Too consumed by the sight to tear himself away from the window and go to bed. They comforted him. Grace had learned to cover him with a blanket and let him be. Comforts were few and far between for the both of them.

Simon loved the stars and while Ryland couldn’t exactly give him one as a gift he figured he could try the next best thing. Beneath the microscope the capsule stain looked like a night sky. Countless glowing flecks suspended in the inky dark. A tiny cluster of stars that could be preserved on a piece of glass.

He had given it to Simon casually, hoping for one of his small smiles— and now he was here. Pressed up against the man’s broad chest. Being held.

His throat ached and Grace swallowed uselessly. He was going to cry. Violently it registered to him that the last time anyone had touched him intentionally was to pin him down in the grass and drug him. The memory was fresh. It had only resurfaced recently and it had threatened to wreck him. Grace had wrestled with it as best as he could, but more than one world was at stake.

There was no time for him to dwell on it. The fact that he wasn’t the brave and willing sacrifice he had believed he was. That Stratt had betrayed him and trussed him up like a lamb for slaughter. That Stratt did the right thing. That he would have made the same decision if he were in her position— even if he would have gone about it entirely differently. He tried so hard to hate her. It was easy to be angry with her. Furious didn’t even begin to cover it. She was ruthless and cruel. But, despite his best efforts, Grace couldn’t hate her. He simply felt hurt. Deeply, annoyingly and terribly hurt.

The sob fought its way out of him suddenly. Simon froze like a deer in headlights. ‘Shit. Did I do something wrong? I should have asked…’

Grace shook his head immediately. The last thing he wanted to do was scare Simon off. He heaved a breath and gave a shaky response, ‘No. No, you didn’t. It’s just…’ Another laboured breath, ‘It’s been a while.’

Simon relaxed at the confirmation that he hadn’t just made some grievous error. His hand moved and for a split second Grace thought he was going to pull away but he didn’t. Simon smoothed a palm over his back. Rubbing small clumsy circles between his shoulder blades. The way Grace had done for him on occasion. ‘I get that,’ he said.

Of course he did. It only made Grace cry harder. From the other side of the Hail Mary Grace heard Rocky begin to clatter towards him. ‘Why Grace leaking? Question.’ He wanted to answer him but he couldn’t. The floor shook and Rocky rumbled into view. ‘Grace leaking. Bad. Bad. Bad.’ Rocky bumped Grace’s shin. ‘Grace Simon Rocky stop astrophage. Save Earth. Save Erid. Statement. Celebration. No sad.’ Rocky leaned into their legs. His way of joining the hug, Ryland supposed. He made a non-specific, musical noise of comfort.

‘I’m okay, buddy. I just need a minute,’ he exhaled shakily. Grace rested a hand on Rocky’s xenonite ball. There was a thunk as the Eridian lifted his carapace up to his palm. Simon had warmed up fairly quickly to the Eridian— once he had gotten over his initial shock of being spoken to, by what had seemed to be, a sentient rock. Now he huffed a laugh at Rocky’s enthusiasm.

‘I’m sorry I’m crying all over your shirt.’ Grace ran a hand across his face. Between his sobbing and his nose running from his sudden tears, it was the understatement of the year.

‘Believe me, I’ve had a lot worse on my shirt than this,’ Simon said with a lopsided smile.

Ryland laughed thickly, ‘That’s true.’ His clothes had been so saturated with blood when he had first met him that Ryland hadn’t even attempted to wash them. Grace had chucked them into the airlock and ejected them into space to be dealt with by the void. No amount of laundry detergent in existence could have fixed them.

Simon tugged Grace closer by his nape. Tucking his face into the crook of his neck. It was very clearly an unpracticed movement but it was nice. ‘I’ve got you, Ryland,’ he said, ‘We did it.’

‘Yes. Yes we did,’ Grace breathed. Relief settled somewhere deep within him.