independent , private , &. plot-driven rp blog for dr. captain ryland grace from andy weir's project hail mary (novel) &. project hail mary (2026) . book-canon with movie influences . written by kat , she/her , 30 . i am not affiliated with andy weir . read my carrd ! no minors please . do not use ai in your responses for me or i'll block you . please let me know if i haven't responded in a week , i may have missed drafting it . please do not follow me if you are binge-following every ryland grace blog in the rpc .
ㅤㅤ⁰¹⋆ on followers + following . no minors please . in fact , i'd be more comfortable with people over the age of 21 due to my own age . i am not interested in keeping a large following of people i do not interact with , or who do not at least like my posts every once in a while . whenever i'm on the dash , i try to do the same courtesy . also , sometimes i don't keep up with developments in the rpc , so if you ever see me interacting with anyone who has been proven to be problematic in the past or even recently , please let me know so that i can cut it off . please don't follow me if you have no intention of ever writing with me . i like to keep a clean dash full of people i am speaking to and who wish to interact with my characterization . i do regular cleanups that involved softblocking those who don't seem interested . if you're the type of person who will follow every single ryland blog you find , please try not to follow me . i don't like feeling like just a number , and i'm here to plot meaningful dynamics instead of being ' just another ryland grace blog on the dash. '
ㅤㅤ⁰²⋆ on shipping . like everyone , i love shipping , but i'm not someone wants to jump into it without proper development beforehand . i prioritise and often populate my blogs with primarily platonic or non-ship-oriented threads . i practice ship exclusivity , which means i will only ship with one version of a character , and i expect the same courtesy , meaning if your muse ships with another grace , unless you are a very very close friend , i will not ship him with that muse , period . [ … ] on a related note , please don't ask to write smut if we barely know each other and / or haven't written any "regular" threads together . i do write smut with those i ship with , mostly on discord , but pwp doesn't interest me at all , so save us both time and don't ask . i'd write 10 fluff threads over a smut thread any day . i am also not open to shipping if we don't at least write threads on here . again , i am not interested in immediately shipping if we don't have something built up first , and it makes me feel like people don't appreciate it if they don't at least try to answer asks that i send or write some form of thread on here .
ㅤㅤ⁰³⋆ IMPORTANT . i understand that grace is a canon character and everyone's interpretations of him are different . but please do not impose what you think grace would do or how he would react on my interpretation . please also do not try to ship without first plotting out a thorough friendship between them , because both i and grace need chemistry in order for that to work . otherwise i personally will not be invested . my grace is aroace and does not feel sexual attraction . he is sex-neutral . romance is not a need in his life , but he is capable of showing it , just rarely .
ㅤㅤ⁰⁴⋆ on content . triggering content will occasionally be present on this blog . i tag all my triggers with "trigger //" for reference .
ㅤㅤ⁰⁵⋆ on activity . i work a full time job , monday-friday . please respect that in regards to my activity . i'm very active on discord , so feel free to ask me for it .
They had rather unceremoniously informed one Miss Sarah Harper that she was firmly at the top of the list of who was banned from the premises. It did little to stop her from returning. Just about any space agency or research departments that had been involved in the Hail Mary and Ryland’s unwilling departure had received various viscous phone calls or voicemails on just what she thought of them between demands to know what had happened. A decade on, undoubtedly with a few restraining orders to her name, that fighting spirit hadn’t yet left her. If anything, she had more now than when in her thirties, and it had never been stronger than when she had learned that he was coming home. Freya had been on the phone to her the moment the Hail Mary was detected. Despite in her youth swearing she would condemn her passion for space on account of her favourite teacher being sent to his supposed death, she had instead cultivated it into a healthy career in her young adulthood. It served as a great help when it came to directing her mother to just where Ryland was to be sent for rehabilitation after his return from the ISS.
At first she had been cordial, explaining the circumstances while fighting off tears, then descending into frustration and explosive anger when still denied. At least this final attempt had landed her in the building, albeit after a scuffle, a taser, and a haphazard number of cable ties as a substitute for cuffs. It could be worse, that’s what she was trying to tell herself, despite the bruising slowly blooming across her cheek and blood caking over her split lip from hitting the ground. They didn’t remove her this time, returning to where she sat to free her wrists and guide her further into the building. Great! Unless they were going to deal with her in a less public setting. Not so great. Rubbing her fingers over her wrists, the woman hesitated a moment when she was left outside a closed door, glancing wearily to her guide who was already making their way back up the hall. Fingers curling around the door handle, she let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding when it eased open to reveal the man lying before her.
“Ryland! Ry-” her voice bubbled out as the sobs overwhelmed everything else, vision blurring as her tears spilled down her cheeks, rushing to his bedside. IVs and monitors be damned, it was him. Her Ryland, alive and breathing before her. If it wasn’t for the ache still resonating where her skin had broken, she would have sworn it was a dream. Doubling forward, her arms flew around his torso, face hidden against his shoulder in an attempt to muffle her crying. “Oh, yrðlingar mitt, it’s you it’s REALLY you! I thought I would never see you again.”
he’s been staring up at a hospital ceiling , listening to the faint beeping of the heart monitor to the side of his bed and watching his blood oxygen level and sugar levels and his glucose levels and his adrenaline levels on various screens , all rising and falling until the graphs send him into various states of hospital-induced hypnosis . sometimes when he shuts his eyes , he feels the pull of gravity lessening on his bones , the vast expanse of space swimming in the blackness behind his eyelids . then comes that falling instinct , jerking him back to the land of the living .
he isn’t sure what they’re doing out in that hallway . since they promised they’d let her through , he lays there , egregiously and regrettably still connected to the iv in his arm and the monitors stuck to his chest and his lower back and his abdomen . just in case his heart was too strong in this gravity , they’d explained . just in case it beat so hard all his blood escaped his vessels and bruised him up inside and suffocated his muscles until they couldn’t function anymore that kind of thing . that kind of death . he’d threatened to pull them out , when they told him who it was causing such a scene outside the facility window . obviously . in fact , this is actually the second time they’ve had to stick the monitor on his chest , since he was already in the process of de-tubing himself by the time they’d agreed to let her through . no point in this place monitoring him if they aren’t going to let someone very important through . he’d rather just walk . he can take care of himself . he had on the ship , he can sure as heck do it now , surely .
then the door opens , and he’s staring at the first person from his past that he’s seen since his return . she looks different . recognizable , the curve of her nose and the knot worry in her brow is the sort of thing ryland grace would never forget . not for a million years . older , lines creasing over her forehead that he doesn't remember seeing . a body laden with previous grief . all that grief , that grief , grief , grief . she’s been beaten by security , which means she’s been fighting hard .
i’m sorry , he wants to say . he doesn’t . he can’t . ❝ sarah . ❞ the words come out shaky and awestruck and devoid of any belief . i thought i’d never see you again . he opens his mouth to say the words , but his lips get stuck open , like he’s some sort of fish out of water , gasping for water . nothing needs to be said now anyways . he slides his arms around her without a word , already fighting the tears welling in his eyes and the bubble in his chest that forces a sob . ❝ oh my god . ❞
* slides $ on the dash * i know i contribute to the problem of writing white male muse of the month around here , but also where are the other canon phm writers … . .. i am starving . starving for canon interactions for 1000 years . canon phm writers let me talk about the canon with you … . .. . ..
As morning comes, even in space there is a cycle of up and down, come and go, rest and wake... As morning comes, Grace is greeted with a voice. The voice is odd, stilted and oddly musical in its cadence, occasionally stuttering in a way that seems oddly reminiscent of a skipping cd.
"g-g-good morning, dr. g-gra-grace!"
It's not the usual voice that greets him.
sleep still clings to him like an old friend : the routine is familiar from his time on earth . it’s also extremely biologically necessary , but that’s beside the point . the point is , it takes him a few seconds longer than usual before he’s finally sitting up on his elbow in his cot at lightning speed .
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthat is not the hail mary’s voice .
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤWHAT THE ACTUAL HECK ?
❝ uh … hello ? ❞ he feels like a crazy person , talking back to his ship like it’s something that’s going to directly respond to him . the ship is programmed to respond , sure , but it only extends to commands and recognized technical vocabulary . it does not respond to ‘ hello ’ or ‘ who are you ’ or ‘ did you change your voice today , mary ? ' he’s going to try anyways . ❝ is this a new voice ? ship , change your voice back . change voice . options ? you’re freaking me out . am i still asleep ? ship , am i still asleep ? why am i asking you this . ship ! ❞ he hasn’t even given the ship a chance to respond , he’s rambling so much . he might cry . ❝ i’m fine . ship , uh , time ? ❞
eyebrows quirked on his forehead at grace's questionable phrasing. he'd chalk it up to being unconscious for years, he assumed. however, it did bring a wry smile to his face. ❝ 'm fine with needles. fine with whatever, really. this will be as informative to you as it is me. i don't know what's in all this either. ❞ on the words 'all this' his hand gestured at the seemingly human form. well, he did know blood and bones and cartilage. all that jazz. but no finer details like if it was exactly the same as the humans.
❝ right, well, lead the way. ❞ crowley begins to approach, slowly as not to startle the other anymore. but, he'd have to if the other was to do anything with his cells. the demon began to wonder if he could manipulate himself down to atoms and cells. make them take the shape of little snakes or ... even better little demons. like emojis the avid cellphone users often spammed in their texts. he'd been a snake fully and normal sized, he'd been a half human half snake to scare a guy once. that had been fun. why didn't he do that more? crowley thought that it probably wouldn't be wise to ruin the rapport he's established with grace now. but, he put a pin in it to do at some point in his near future.
well . at least he's gotten an agreement to it . this isn't some alien ( or person , or whatever he's supposed to call the suspiciously human-shaped sentient being standing in front of him and talking to him in his own language , who isn't exactly a human being , but isn't entirely not a human being either ) who is too suspicious of him to let him learn something about him . by all means , it seems grace is allowed to inspect what he wants to apparently under no suspicion of bad acting whatsoever . so there's that . and it makes grace feel at least marginally better about things . just marginally . it's still about eighty percent ' alarmed ' in his brain , but the hail mary isn't blaring its alarms at him at least . a foreign contaminant would set off the alarms . this ship isn't dumb .
or maybe it is , and grace is about to become the immediate past-president of the ' being alive ' club , of which there's only one member on this ship . haha .
he leads crowley through the corridors , turning right at the bend and past the water closet into the central hub . another right , and they're in the analytical capsule , where most of the laboratory equipment is kept . ❝ okay , uh … get comfortable while i prepare the slides . ❞ it won't take him long . since this is an impulse procedure , and not some high-stakes study , all he really has to remember is to sterilize his equipment . everything else is a non-peer reviewed act by second nature .
seeing pics of young rygos like … . .. . . where are my threads with younger , more fiery ryland ‘ ready to call the leading scholar in his field and anyone who won’t open their minds to speculative xenobiology a piece of his mind ‘ grace . ….. .. .. where are they. … .. guy who is ready to defend his thesis always . guy who is ready to directly attack with his thesis .
i just really love the tiny little part they put in , between yáo and stratt , where yáo speaks in mandarin to stratt and she responds . there are no captions to translate for those who don't speak it , but joke's on them because i speak it . i looked online and lots of places have it translated as this :
ehhhh , that's not exactly the same as how i translate it in my own head , it's closer to
Yao : [in Mandarin] Why does he treat us like we're children ?
or ' why does he treat us similarly to children ? ' for a more literal interpretation . which i think does such a great job at highlighting that grace is incredibly used to speaking to his junior high kids when it comes to teaching about his specialty subjects , and not so much adults . he's speaking to the most qualified candidates for the hail mary mission , and he's just calling the spin drives the ' 1 ,009 little engines that could ' to their faces . so funny , but also another little informative detail about grace that i loooove how they executed .
ryland's shoulders roll back , and colt lets out a little breath of relief -- like it was his spine curved and compacted over the table . god why does he sit like that , colt should put him in a back brace for a year and fix that shrimp body . talk about difficult . colt has has the most difficult older brother in the world . because nobody else knows exactly how to push his buttons and get him going . colt likes to think he's a pretty patient person , but a single look from his brother is the trigger that sets off the bomb under the front tire -- metaphorically , of course
but the secret , the reality , is colt doesn't do it because he hates it . he doesn't do it because he doesn't like being the baby , he does it because there is a constant burning feeling in the center of his chest that tells him he has to keep ryland safe . they both know if it came down to it , that colt wouldn't hesitate to jump in front of a bullet for his brother . that colt firmly believes everything in the world will be okay , but only because ryland is okay . so for a little boy who cried every time he was frustrated , and stuttered when he was mad , he's never quite been able to put that into words . that's the real argument . he wants to be older , because he wants to protect ryland . ( but he's grateful . he's really , really grateful . because no matter what ryland is his brother , and he's the best , and nobody else gets to have ryland as a brother except for him . which sort of automatically makes him the luckiest guy to ever exist by default )
" i did not say that like a slur ! " but he's laughing now , he can't stay annoyed -- he just can't do it . not when he has the most ridiculous brother in the whole word . a slur , my god , where does he come up with this stuff ? " yeah it's a pretty cool title , i guess you can keep it , for now . " clicks his tongue , takes another bite -- he's always ate a little bit faster than ryland , like it's a race . but it's mostly so he can snap the end of this cone off and give it to ryland without the entire thing dripping onto his hand and making a mess . he squints , rolling the chocolate around with his tongue while he hums , pushes it into his cheek to talk , " why are you saying l.a. like that -- you've been to l.a. , like , multiple times . its not even two hours by plane . "
he's still chuckling to himself , even more so now -- with the way ryland is grumbling under his breath , because of course he knows he's not mad , which means colt can sit there and grin like an idiot all he wants . " okay , well , then don't offer to buy me thirty-six dollars worth of coffee if you don't mean it . come on man . " he taps his brother's leg back , like they're talking in that secret language all twins end up making . and theirs is distinctly theirs -- it started out as squeezes . boys who always walked around within reach of each other , ( twice for yes , once for no . and they went from there ) but they had to modify as they got older , as the distance was forced between them . so they'd tap it across the kitchen table , hum it walking side by side , knock it against doors and floors . it was their thing , and it was easy , especially for the days when one of them couldn't bring themselves to speak . ( and right now , colt taps a simple : i love you . their favorite go to , the pattern more instinct than thought at this point ) " can we go to that place you took me last time ? with the -- blue sign out front ? "
it's called the scientific posture , by the way . the way he'd be leaning over the table : the same way he used to lean over his desk in the laboratories , back when he'd worked with the best of the best on the best of the best . even though he'd grown tired of all that , his energy cannot be created nor destroyed . it's preserved now when he grades his students' papers , hunched over thighs with his legs pulled up and his heels dug into the cushion of his short couch , his papers all jammed up between the side of his body and the armrest , his pens and markers settled in the bend of his thighs and lower stomach . his go-to position for when he has a few too many books stacked up on his little coffee table .
he's not sitting in his scientific , shrimply ways right now , though . colt is here , which means he can't . the gentle reprimand sticks . ❝ what do you mean , why am i saying l.a. like that ? i'm not saying l.a. like anything ! ❞ he's absolutely saying l.a. like something . he's saying l.a. in the same way he'd talk about a spider on the ceiling or , like , a gnat flying around in front of his laptop screen while he's trying to work on something really important . the type of city that harbors a really annoying brother . in ryland's head , it's now deemed where all the really annoying people move . and that decision is final . ❝ i'm just saying , l.a. doesn't seem like a very ice cream type of city . like , it doesn't seem like anyone there should be allowed to have ice cream in their hands . ❞ whole time , his gaze settles pointedly on colt's . ❝ you think the sugar in them would get them hopped up before they crashed ? or would they just go ballistic ? ❞
food for thought . but he's too busy with his ice cream to care about that . he's four bites in while colt is at seven . always quicker than him . anyone who didn't know ryland outside of this moment would never guess that he's one of the quicker eaters when he's out with colleagues and other acquaintances . ❝ whatever . uh … blue sign , blue sign … ❞ because , obviously , there are a lot of blue signs spinning around ryland's head right now . a side effect of sitting here with a brother that doesn't focus : neither can he at points , when he really tries to think about things . sitting in the middle of a coffee shop isn't the most focus-dedicated place anyways . ❝ there's sightglass . that's the only blue i can think of . yeah . we can go there . ❞ ( the same three familiar taps back : i love you . of course we can go to that place i took you last time . i'll take you wherever you want to go while you're here . you could ask me to walk off a pier and i would . ) too much to say all at once . ❝ if you really wanna spend thirty-six dollars on coffee , i'll pay . i'm not paying for your hospital bill when you get caffeine poisoning and mess up my toilet though . ❞
she did know that. in fact, she almost killed everyone and herself over that knowledge. not that she will ever tell him. whatever mental collapse that happened, it was in the past now; with him back on earth and by her side, she will, once again, do her best to extend the time they share.
“ comedy. no space. ”
so that rules out space jam (1996). they can't watch despicable me (2010) either, since gru steals the moon, and that subsequently rules out the entire minions franchise; she doesn't think madagascar (2005) would be a good idea with animals doing a prison break, wary of the theme triggering his bad memories with the taskforce; ice age (2002) and all its sequels are too on the nose, so she's glad they already watched them all before hail mary—
she browses her catalogue in silence and eventually decides on an all-time classic: school of rock (2003).
teacher. students. music. jack black. that should do it.
she takes his arm on her lap, stroking it the way she would stroke a cat. or a fox, she corrects herself quietly, adapting her perception to a more ryland grace-tuned version. then, about five minutes in, something heavy overcomes her — perhaps it's the realisation that this is real, or that his return hits her in waves, and the fact that she has missed him terribly — and she finds herself lying down on the couch, her back to his chest, his arm over her shoulders like the safety restraints on a rollercoaster.
he's off that petrova rollercoaster now. no more drops.
“ jack black seems like a really cool guy. ” she finds his hand and squeezes it firmly, tipping her head to press a soothing kiss on his knuckles. she doesn't know why she does that, or if she is even allowed to.
it's been a long time since he's taught in a school , but his memories are mostly back now ( mostly , because you never really know whether you've blocked out some embarrassing memory that everyone except you somehow happens to remember ) : once upon a time , mr. grace had had to substitute for gcms's music teacher , who had gone home sick the period before his free one . he had spent most of that class period teaching the kids about sound waves and the disturbances of mechanical longitudinal waves , and not as much time on actual instrument playing . reminders of the past before the petrova line , he thinks , are much better than thinking about space right now .
rosaria has good taste in movies . it's the first thought he has , which happens exactly five minutes and twenty-two seconds after the movie starts , somewhere between the time it takes for him to realize he has a slight stomachache and the moment he notices the comfort he takes from the tickling touch of her fingers at his arm . it's uncovered , rested outside the quilt for maximum coverage .
❝ huh ? ❞ because her voice came through the skinny little straw hole of his attention , so he has to really dig back through it to get it back . his gaze slides down his shoulder , his bicep , following up to peer over her head . he can't see her face , but he knows what she did . maybe space has muted his senses . mentally , anyways , because his eyes still sting from salt . keep yourself around people , said the neurologist , on his second day back on earth . do not allow yourself to isolate . after so many years in space , he needs human companionship now more than ever .
so he smiles . it's faint . she's allowed . that's what the smile ( that she conveniently can't see ) says . ❝ you mean the actor or his character in the movie ? ❞ he doesn't care for her answer either way , which weighs heavy like rosaria's back against his chest . he lifts a finger , tapping his knuckle against her lips . ❝ i'd want a teacher like him if i were one of those kids . ❞
in case anyone was wondering ( no one was wondering i just really wanted to talk about it and i'm making it everyone's problem ) , the general vibes of bayonne and their songs remind me of grace . especially this one . it's honestly the whole vibe of their music that feels incredibly ' ryland grace ' to me .
sorry if you get a like from me on a post you made hours or a day or two ago . IT'S ON PURPOSE . i am actually reading through your blog like it's the newspaper and do i think that one is particular cool and i really enjoyed it and i think what you wrote is really neat and i do really want you to know that . sorry about that .
"" . . . "" if only hew knew : she plays it off with a cough , as if she was beginning to feel a little bit worse than she actually was , just to not have to answer anything related to her job right away .
perhaps the clearest memory she has of her time before on the hail mary , is her very last meeting with her superiors ––– she remembers how his words , as simple and cold like always , for the first time in a long time left a chill running up and down her body , body hair rising slightly underneath her suit . you are to become part of the ship crew found in the hail mary . you are a medic . protect them . that was it , there was not much more that passed through deaf ears , eyes widened in shock underneath her veil .
she is not a medic . the reason why she knows the human body as well as she does is to strike to kill , literally raised and trained for such . and now she is meant to protect ? to heal , even ?
at the end of the day , she is good at lying . and eiko never leaves her missions without being completed . even if . . . she knows this is the very last one , everything she learned from training screams at her from within , and eventually , she sighs .
"" . . . i was a medic . a war medic . "" the woman starts , understanding it is inevitable . he will have more questions , might as well feed his curiosity . "" it was . . . "" hmm , how to describe something that never happened ? "" . . . it was work , at the end of the day . . . ""
❝ so they sent a war medic up to space with the rest of the crew ❞ because god forbid he thinks anything suspicious about her not being on the roster when he can't even remember himself why he had joined this suicide mission . clearly for some noble reason . they had four noble people on this vessel , and two of them didn't make it . two of them , who deserved to make it , who deserved to follow through all the hard work they had done back on earth . the thought makes his eyes hurt ❝ to the rest of the crew . sorry . ❞
he's lost his train of thought , so he takes a moment to recalibrate , drawing in a long breath that just barely hides the run of his nose . at least he's not alone now . and at least she's not alone now either . ❝ uh , you're here to make sure we're okay medically . ❞ he makes it a strong point to avoid using ' we ' in case it sets him off again . or her . she could be just as despondent as he is . he doesn't even know that . he doesn't even know his own crew mate . how pathetic is that ?
okay . so that's his first order of business , then . they have eight days until they reach tau ceti , so he has eight days-worth of questioning to get through . he's on this ship with an ex-war medic . and she's on this ship with an ex-middle school science teacher . two peas in a pod , right ?
❝ thanks . ❞ for making sure he's alive . even though she really doesn't seem too alive herself right now . he doesn't know how to help her , and that's the worst part . they weren't supposed to be this sick coming out of the coma . they weren't supposed to be alive in here long enough to have much issue with anything . his faith is in the nannybot . ❝ do you know anything about gravity-induced nausea ? actually , do you know if they packed dramamine anywhere ? you look like you need it . ❞
colt doesn't really remember much of what happened . the doctors said he'd hit his head too , when he fell , so that's probably why -- there's a nice knot back there still to prove it , nothing worse , thank god . nothing worse . but the last thing he can clearly recall is the right before , the team double checking the closures on his harness , the guide held between his hands as he placed his feet at the edge of a chasm , his back to the unknown . and he could hear the echoing : action , action , action ! and he was falling , and that was . . . it . ( there are ems somewhere , mumbling a story about colt half conscious on the stretcher , groaning and trying to lift his hand , and he's saying , over and over again : where's ryland ? ) but he remembers his brother . that's the first thing he remembers . its the only thing he wants to remember , that despite the pain and the fear and the great yawning uncertainty of a future hanging in front of him -- he got to wake up to ryland .
and it wasn't even because of the water , this time . because colt had promised . while ryland's back was turned , he'd promised to stop being so difficult . because he felt bad . he felt so bad , and his brother had to do nearly everything for him , and he was frustrated that he could barely stand up on his own without his legs shaking , and he'd gotten loud . just for a second . ryland was trying to put a hand under his arm , ryland was just trying to help . but colt was so mad at himself , and he'd tried to turn away -- except he's not supposed to do that , and thank god the brace had caught the movement , except his hips still moved , and he'd gasped out an oh , fuck and nearly thrown up at the dizzying wave of pain . and ryland was still trying to put that hand under his arm and he'd snapped ryland -- please . and by the time he was in the bathroom , he'd felt like the worst person in the world , and had promised to stop . and he just . . . he forgot .
there's this sick , angry , frustrated tangle of emotion in his chest that he can't unravel . can't pick his way through . and now he's near tears again , his brain fighting against itself , curving and collapsing in like an airbag deflating after a crash . and his breath is a catch in the back of his throat when he whispers , " i'm sorry . " its a childhood whisper , one offered a million times before , as they lay back to back . i'm sorry i was loud , i'm sorry i got us into trouble again , i'm sorry i forgot , i'm sorry i got distracted , i'm sorry . but he's holding out his shaking hand anyways , putting the pill in his mouth , and doing what he's told . there's a sniffle . the crescent of his thumbnail dragging a slow back and forth against his other wrist , but not hard enough to dig in . " if i don't stick out my tongue are you gonna reach in and grab it like you did last time ? " so he concedes , tips his head and opens his mouth , and hopes he can still be forgiven , even when he's like this .
colt is sorry . he has always been sorry . ryland can't remember a time his brother hadn't been sorry about something : about the scratch on ryland's arm and the bruises against his bone when he'd fought greg porter with his fists in the sixth grade for bullying colt and gotten himself a detention over it ; about the frustrated tears in ryland's eyes after he'd had to sit in his room instead of watching his favorite show on television because he was grounded for a week for fighting greg porter with his fists . always sorry .
but ryland is never angry over anything for long . not when it comes to colt . i'm sorry , whispers his brother , about the way ryland withdraws after they reach the bathroom so that he can process his situation all over again in the irritability it causes him , without some sort of annoying force trying to act upon it . there's only so much he can do before the tectonic movements of his efforts cannot combat the earthquake of colt's spirit . he will not be stupid about it because he can afford not to be . ❝ hey . hey , ❞ comes ryland's response , while his brother melts in his remorse . ❝ listen to me , okay . it's okay . you're supposed to be angry about all this , okay ? i'd be more worried if you weren't . right ? i get really , really mad sometimes when i'm in a lot of pain , because it doesn't feel good . you should be destroying the world about all this . i know i would be . ❞ ( i forgive you . i don't blame you . i love you . )
his smile is weak . colt is too good-hearted for that . for a guy able to take a flamethrower and a slam against a wall and a tumble down an elevator shaft eight times in a row , he's got the softest insides of anyone ryland's ever met . he makes sure to treat those soft insides kindly when he places the slow-release painkiller in the middle of colt's tongue , holds the glass of water up and tilts it not-too-severely . ❝ there it goes . and yeah . ❞ he pinches the tip of colt's tongue once he's over , moving it up to check underneath it . it's not hiding in the pockets of his cheeks , either , so he'd say it's good and gone . ❝ i will be reaching in and grabbing it . that'll take about an hour to help . if you think about it really hard , it might take twenty , though . ❞ placebo effect . it works wonders on ryland before the actual good stuff kicks in . he'd learned that when he was eight , and the doctor had told him his tibia would stop hurting so bad if he told it to stop hurting . ❝ you wanna go lie down ? or you just wanna sit ? ❞
it's rare that he gets a chance to work on cases like this. joshua tends to spend his time in the deadlands. he's the one of the resident doctor's at the free clinic and it fills his cup in ways he never thought possible. he always wants to help, always wants to use his inherited wealth to better the world.
but, he didn't graduate from the best medical school in the world with honors for nothing. when he was contacted to do a physical, he didn't quite to expect. it must be for someone serious if he was contacted and whisked away.
as he steps into the exam room, he's a bit anxious in a way that he cannot explain. he's so used to those in his home clinic. those who tease him for being clive's baby brother and about his lanky build.
joshua stops to knock on the frame of the door before stepping in. 'mr. grace?' he looks up from the chart in his hands. 'i'm dr. rosfield, and i'll be looking over you today.'
rosfield , rosfield , rosfield … it's a distinct name . grace hasn't met a single other rosfield in his life , except one . it's been a while . it's been ' a trip to space and back ' awhile , but he'd never forget clive rosfield and his playful little jabs about the volume of the science class next door , his appreciation for tolkien . ‘ shouldn’t you be the one teaching the sci-fi unit ? ’ the thought still makes grace scoff . the closest thing to a science fiction book he gets to teach to a middle school science class is ' the hot zone ' and that's not even science fiction .
this doctor is young . like , really young . like ‘ should probably still be in residency ’ young . not long enough to get into specialized medical education , surely . and aside from striking blue that settles amongst a familiar curve of the cheekbone , he looks fairly dissimilar to his teacher friend . that blonde ? couldn't be a brother , could it ? not that all brothers look exactly like each other . okay . maybe his point of view is a little skewed by colt . but still , dr. rosfield looks not-very-rosfield in grace's mind .
he doesn't realize he's been watching the doctor in total silence for a really weird amount of seconds until about four really weird seconds have passed . ❝ hi . ❞ one really weird second's pause . he doesn't even care about pain of his burns that never goes away , or his neuro-ocular syndrome . ❝ are you related to someone named clive rosfield ? ❞
checked the server for the game i'm modding for today and they are arguing whether or not pluto is a planet and whether the term ' dwarf planet ' is an insult to science . fantastic morning to everyone .
