Eldritch entities *whatever the ship name for Simon, Grace, Rocky, and Adrian is* but Grace is the only “normal” one.
Simon lives in his blood. He likes to rest in Grace’s heart because he finds being surrounded by his heartbeat very calming.
Rocky and Adrian live in his bones. They like being able to protect Grace’s squishy insides.
It takes Grace a little to get used to them living in his body. But he grows to like it, the feeling of them always being with him. Though he’s kinda jealous that Simon can just hitch a ride in Adrian or Rocky to explore Erid.
I love the idea of Grace forgetting to mention in his video logs about finding simon and accidentally gaslighting all of earth into thinking they sent 4 people on the Hail Mary mission.
Like his first mention is Grace saying: "Simon woke up today!! He's a bit confused about what happened and where he is but -heh- so was I. Though I didn't wake up missing a limb, still have no idea how that happened..."
Earth's just like oh, Simon just took longer to wake up from his coma, and Grace thinking he was the only one left was from the confusion of waking up.
Apologizing to all my Sonic ppl I am still in the throes of Bloodymary
Simon character analysis shower thoughts under the cut
I’m thinking way too hard about this
Bc as much as Simon grew up in a cult I don’t think his allegiance was ever fully with Eden, or at least at the point we meet him it isn’t. And I say this cuz unless I’m reading this wrong Simon only cares about exactly one thing the entire movie and it’s the life/death status of everyone but mostly himself.
I’d argue his allegiance is to living and whatever faction lets him do that is the one he’ll go with, bc never at any point does Simon specify the quality of life he or anyone else has/gets, the simple fact of Being Alive is more important to him.
Eden is where he grew up, where he was Taught, but even as a child he argued. He can’t make sense of a dying universe bc he is alive and the stars are all right there. But cults aren’t known for letting their kids be free thinkers and Simon commited the great sin of having hope. I’m thinking he kept his head low in Eden, followed orders to stay alive, though that ends up with a lot of blood on his hands. Notibly, he holds resentment towards his ‘brothers’ for leaving him behind in a way I interpret as betrayal- they died which is the WORST thing Simon knows bc to him dying is giving up.
The COI made him burn his Eden tattoo away, not that it means much, at least he’s still alive. He’s trying to gain freedom, to assimilate to the new faction to keep himself alive. He’s constantly checking and making deals, not bc he wants to help but bc he needs to convince them he’s worth keeping alive, not bc he believes in their cause or slogan (which, trading one cult for another) but he doesn’t exactly have a choice if he wants to live (quality pending).
He cares a LOT when he accidentally kills people, from the room of people he irradiated (he was trying to be annoying, he thought it was just a camera- that it would just be a flash of light- nobody told him it was an x-ray camera) to Filament Station (“That… wasn’t supposed to happen”)
But how can Simon The Butcher with “the most kills out of all of us” let himself kill when life is so sacred to him? Well, you make him choose between kill or be killed, and he’d choose to save himself every single time.
I propose Eden knew he was a problem, constantly asking questions and spouting theories and hope. They can’t have that, so let’s introduce him to reality and the death that awaits us all. Not that Eden needs much of an excuse to turn someone into the soil for The Tree, Simon just has enough gall to want to live to put someone else there instead. So they put that dangerous animal in a cage and point it at their enemies.
But now that cage is gone and he’s in a new one, and he’s still choosing himself. He thrashes against the bars even as bait for something bigger, something that thinks it knows freedom. That thing that thinks it understands life through a pinhole, blinded by light, and utterly Alive.
But when life isn’t an available choice for himself anymore, of course Simon going to choose it for other people, even the people who put him in the cage in the first place. And if death is the only immediate option, he’s taking that fucking monster with him.
All this to say, of course he can be thrown into the Hail Mary with little to no complaints about moving to Erid instead of Earth bc damn, he’s ALIVE and not in a cage anymore, quality of life is New to him and anything is better than Hell so he’s literally perfect companion for Grace 😁
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“Are you an angel?” Simon blurts before immediately regretting it. It must think he’s stupid, asking something so obvious.
The angel pauses, caught off guard, before managing a sputtering response. “What? No. Of course not.” It insists, looking a little flustered.
Simon stares at it for a moment before he realizes. “Oh. Sorry.” He says. He’s not supposed to know that, it seems. That’s fine. He can keep a secret.
OR,
My take on the “Simon thinks he died and that Grace is an angel” trope, but with the twist that everything Grace does just convinces Simon more that he’s right lmao
Hello! I wanted to tell you that I freaking love your kawaii bloodymary sketches and comics, they are so cute! I loved them so much I did a sketch of them based on your style. I hope you like it
Fish Simon gives me the vibe that hugging and gentle kisses isn't enough, he has cuteness aggression so bad that he needs to physically fuse together with Grace and become a whole new entity.
OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH!!! YOU HOPE I LIKE IT????? I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!!! WTF!?!??!!??!!
Oh my gosh look at themmmmm they're so cute 😭 I'm crying what the heck this is so sweet 🥺 What if I died? What if I died, huh? What then? I love this so freaking much!!!
Also you're so right about that, fish Simon has such bad cuteness aggression. Starts out biting Grace cuz he thinks Grace is a threat, now bites Grace because he thinks Grace is unfairly cute and needs to bite about it. And yeahhhh he does wanna fuse with Grace so bad, it's the anglerfish in him, makes him want to give his entire being to Grace if it means he can always be a part of him. He's got a really unhealthy attachment to Grace but I can't really blame him for it 😔
could I perhaps suggest the Bloodymary bad days or nights with some comfort
Soooo uhhhhh I did a whole thing...... Hehehehe. Thank you for the suggestion truly, this was a delight to draw. Hurt/comfort my beloved :3
(I was gonna draw Ryland's burn scars from when he had to carry Rocky back to his atmosphere in the book, but I forgot to do it after the first panel, oops. They are there in spirit, trust.)
I'm gonna put my rambling under the cut ↓
They both get their nightmares and of course they both handle them differently. Simon's are usually about the blood ocean and horrors within and Ryland's are often twisted versions of his memories.
Since my sister gave me the idea I like to headcanon that Simon is actually able to wake himself up from his nightmares really effectively, so he doesn't always get too deep into them. Though that doesn't mean he doesn't still get shaken up and he ends up losing a lot of sleep due to this. Any reminders of the blood ocean is too many reminders, so he will usually find a way to ground himself afterwards and remember that he's not down there anymore and the stars are still alive, so he will usually go to the Don't Go Crazy room or just look out the windows at the stars.
Ryland on the other hand has a much harder time waking up from his nightmares and ends up tossing and turning a lot trapped in his brain's form of self torture. Usually he would need a lot of coaxing to get out of it, or eventually he'll scare himself so bad he wakes up screaming. Luckily Rocky is always there and ready to listen and give reassurance, and as close as the guy can give for a hug, which is usually enough to calm him down, but sometimes when it's particularly bad he'll go seek out Simon for additional comfort until he can fall back asleep after tiring himself out with all the crying.
A/N: i'm alive. totally didn't get hyperfocused on writing a bloodymary one shot that is now double the length of this fic. um. it's not finished. i'm working on it. whoops
Read on Ao3 ->
Missed a Part? Part One , Part Two , Part Three , Part Four , Part Five , Part Six
Grace swore his skin was going to rub off if he went between the medical bay and Rocky's room much longer. He had been diligently scrubbing himself from head to toe every time he'd come from Simon to go check up on Rocky, not willing to put the Eridian in any danger.
So when Armando scanned Simon and deemed that he wasn't leaking as much radiation as he was and Grace had confirmed that Rocky wouldn't suffer under the ill effects of Simon moving about the rest of the ship, his skin thanked the robot uncontrollably.
The new problem was that Simon was still restrained to the table. That was what Grace was here to sort. Throughout the visits, Simon had been relatively.. neutral. Sure, he still stared a hole through Grace, like the second he blinked something would change. He jumped at sudden noises and, if his hand were free, Grace had no doubt that he would punch anything that moved too quickly into his space. Not that he could blame him. They still had the SM-13 attached to the ship, just in case it was needed. He didn't want to jettison it until Simon gave him the go ahead. Grace had however, put a big sign on the door leading into the hallway where it was connected.
"BAD SHIP. DO NOT ENTER. :("
It was sufficient enough. Besides, Rocky wouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole, Simon physically couldn't get to it and Grace hated the idea of being near it. Even if he had an episode where his memory lapsed (which thank god that hadn't happened with Simon onboard), Grace was certain that even Amnesiac-Grace wouldn't be stupid enough to enter.
Probably.
Regardless, the task at hand.
"Okay. Armando has cleared you to leave, yay!" He did jazz hands for a second before realising how insane that looked, clearing his throat and looking away for a moment. "I'll get the restraints off and then you need to go shower and change into some fresh clothes. We'll need to toss yours and everything that's been in here into a bag and shove it into the airlock for a bit for it to decontaminate cause radiation is not fun for Rocky."
"Rocky?" Simon's hoarse voice responded. He hadn't spoken much, preferring to listen and observe.
"Oh- yeah, Rocky's my uh.. he's a friend of mine. He's.. not human, kinda just looks like a spidery pile of rocks but I swear he's friendly." Grace rambled, aware that his hands were resisting the attempt to stay in his pockets and were coming back out to animate his speech again.
"So.. yeah. Shower, new clothes, I'll get you something to eat that isn't through an IV and then I can show you to the bedroom."
Grace swung his arms back and forth momentarily, before finally stepping forwards, his hands finally obeying him and going to work on untying the restraints from the man's hand and feet. This close he could feel the warmth of Simon's skin, hear the measured breathing coming out in hot puffs. Just keep on task Grace. Eyes on the goal. Almost as soon as the restraints wrapping his arm to the bed were released, Simon flexed his tendons and muscles, making sure they still worked. Even for someone who had nearly died, he was toned. Grace made a pointed effort to stare at the restraints around his feet, one side to the other.
When his legs were finally freed, Grace stepped away so as not to crowd him. Simon didn't take his gaze off of him the entire time,
"Mary's making her own gravity right now, so we have the luxury of proper showers instead of a flannel bath, which is very very nice. I left some clothes out, one of my big jumpers cause you're, uh, very wide." His eyes widened as Simon cocked his head, 'Not that that's a bad thing-! I mean like- your shoulders are very um.."
He trailed off, pressing the pads of his fingers together in an attempt to calm himself. Simon's gaze had finally left him and it felt like he could breathe without being scrutinized again. Instead, the man was looking at the floor, experimentally placing his feet down flat, shifting himself to the edge of the bed, starting to put his weight on them. There was a slow lean forward, a pained grunt and then Simon pushed himself to stand. Everything was fine, until he attempted to take a step forwards. Simon tilted, clearly not adjusted to the unbalanced centre of gravity his body now had, missing a whole arm.
Grace's hands immediately went out to stabilise him but Simon caught himself on the wall before he could fully fall over.
"Shit." Simon muttered darkly under his breath. He didn't move. His eyes flicked back up to Grace, gritting his teeth as he talked. "If you want me to shower, you'd better show me. I don't know your ship."
"Oh- yeah, right- fair enough, uh, follow me?" Grace rambled, "Are you sure that you, uh, don't want a hand or-"
"I'm fine." Came the blunt response.
Well, at least he wasn't actively trying to bite him anymore.
Grace lead the way, not looking behind him but hearing the footsteps of something following him. He held the bathroom door open as Simon stepped through, clearing his throat as he went to speak again. Simon wasn't looking at him again, staring at the dark green, chunky knit jumper Grace had left for him, reaching out tentatively to run it between his fingers.
"Why are you doing this?" Simon growled out, like he was about to find an answer that he despised.
"What.. do you mean?" Grace queried, cocking his head like he could understand better at a 45° angle.
"All of this. Hurting me and torturing me hasn't worked, so you're playing this card? I'm not giving it to you." Simon responded back, raising his eyes and glaring at Grace with an unspoken challenge.
"No, I, uh. Still don't get it."
Simon threw his hand up in disbelief. "You had me, for a second. But God doesn't answer my prayers. He wouldn't start now. I know it's you. And if this is what I have to suffer through, I will."
He took a step towards Grace, who backed up a little. There was a fire reigniting in Simon's eyes and he had to move so he didn't get burned. "I will never be one with you. You will never get that box. It's bigger than me. It's bigger than you. It's bigger than us. You don't get to take them down with you. And if I have to stay here while you wrap reality and warp it around me, then you're going to suffer with me."
Grace opened and closed his mouth dumbly for a moment or two, finding his words. "Where.. where do you think you are, right now Simon?"
Simon practically spat out a laugh, "Exactly where I've always been. Where you've trapped me."
"And.. where is that, Simon?"
"AT-5, at the bottom of the blood ocean, in the SM-13, also nicknamed the iron lung. Anything else you want me to spit out for you?"
Grace shook his head, "No, me and Rocky, we found the SM-13 floating in space. It was drifting across the astrophage line and Rocky could hear a heartbeat so we attached the ship to Mary and got you out."
Simon stared back at him and he could feel those intelligent eyes scanning him once more. "Is it still attached?"
Grace nodded, "We didn't know if you needed anything from it. We were waiting for your permission to jettison it. You can see it, after you shower."
A pause, silence filling the room. A look crossed Simon's face, something like desperation, something like.. hope. Simon stepped closer again, his hand reaching out to touch Grace, who tried his best not to flinch. His hand pressed to his chest, staying there.
The eel had seen humans, sure, before she had killed them, but every single one, she'd seen covered in blood and being ripped apart by her own jaws. Nothing was fully intact, nothing was breathing so.. undisturbed. No heartbeat this calm. No eyes this kind and gentle. She didn't have the knowledge to fake this.
It hit him in a rush, his fingers gripping the front of Grace's shirt, one with a stupid joke on that he only just understood.
This kindness, this caring, this nicety, it wasn't something he'd ever experienced before. It wasn't something he'd ever had the means to even dream about. His dreams of hope and a future were of sprouting plants and grassy fields. Not a random ship in the middle of nowhere with a motor mouthed blonde man, treating him with food and water and care. If the eel was trying to use his own wants, wishes and dreams to coerce him, he would have never been able to think of this.
And, call him crazy, but he highly doubted that the eel, nor anyone the eel had consumed, would have had these dreams and aspirations. Their existence was suffering, it was fighting for survival, it was using the bodies of others for personal gain. No one would have dreamt of this. The absurdity of it..
"You're real." He finally whispered, vision clouding over with unshed tears, feeling his body strain to keep himself upright as realisation hit him with all the force of a freighter. "Oh my god, you're actually real."
The man in front of him laughed, a bright, nervous sound. "Last time I checked!"
That stupid answer was the new breaking point. It wasn't a "Of course I am, Simon!". It wasn't a "We're the only real thing."
His legs failed him, trembling like a newborn foal. He felt arms around him, catching him before he could hit the floor, lowering him down with such care, before they left him, like he had burned them.
"Sorry, uh, I should've asked but I didn't want you to hit the floor with a bang, you know?"
No, he didn't know. He didn't know this. He didn't know what he was meant to do with this. This was real. This was real. This was real. Simon could hear his own breathing, shaky and spluttering, legs sprawled across the ground, his arm holding himself upright.
There was a dread now, at acknowledging the existence of his surroundings. A looming terror as he looked down to his hand, the hand that had killed, the hand that had torn things apart without question. He was the attack dog of Eden, the Butcher, the killer, the Convict. This place was too clean, too kind, too nice. He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be here, he-
"Simon?" The gentle voice broke through his thoughts, looking up to see the worried face of his saviour. He had crouched down, to be on Simon's level, even as he'd fallen. "Hey, hey, you're okay. It's going to be okay."
He swore he could feel hands squeezing his chest, quickly glancing behind him to see if someone was trying to drag him back to hell. His breathing was fast, shallow, wheezing in clean, fresh air that he didn't deserve.
"You're okay, I promise." Grace repeated, soothingly. "Breathe with me, you're alright."
Grace started moving his hands, making exaggerated breathing noises. Breathing in and raising his hands, palms up. There was a pause, Grace holding his breath. Then flipping them, breathing out, palms facing the floor and hands descending. "It's gonna be okay. Whatever's happening, we can work with it and it'll be alright."
Simon raised his eyes to meet Grace's, stunned by the sincere gaze. He watched as Grace's face wrinkled, giving Simon a warm smile. A stuttering gasp of air in, fingers tensed against the metal floor. Grace was continuing the motions, the loud, theatrical breaths so that he could follow along. As he raised his palms, Simon sucked in a harsh breath.
"Good, that's good. And we're going to hold it, okay?" Simon did his best, listening to Grace count. "For 4, 3, 2, 1. And breathe out. All the way out, that's it."
As Simon continued following Grace's instructions, focusing on his kind eyes, the way the smile lines on his face crinkled with joy each time Simon followed correctly, he gradually began to feel less like he was being crushed. His shoulder relaxed, his own expression drooped as the tenseness faded.
"How-" He coughed, throat dry again. "How did you know how to do.. that..?"
Grace looked to him fondly, "I was a teacher. Especially near exam times, my kids used to panic. I found that this was the best way to help them out, helping them get their breathing back in order helps calm the nervous system down."
Simon stared at him, apprehensive. "What? But they were wasting your time?"
Grace tilted his head, confused. "With being scared? No, not at all. I always have time for them, school is scary. Exams are scary. There's so much pressure on people, sometimes it just takes one person to make them feel seen, you know?"
Simon didn't know.
"Anyways. You look exhausted. Take a shower, I'll make you something to eat and then I'll show you where you can sleep."
Simon's shower was barely long enough for Grace to get both mugs of ramen cooked up, only just putting the mugs on the table as he heard the bathroom door slowly opening. He called out, "Over here!", to let Simon know where he was. Soon, Simon padded into the kitchen. Grace was glad he had been packed such oversized jumpers, they fitted Simon almost perfectly, luckily enough. There was a certain dichotomy, seeing the strong, scarred and bruised form of Simon, wrapped in his dark jumper, one of the arms tied up so it didn't flap around as he walked. The sweatpants were a bit tight on him but they would work for now. Simon had also pulled his hair up into a bun, how he managed with one hand, Grace didn't know, but it looked good.
It was strangely reassuring, having someone stood there who took up so much space. Grace had been alone for so long, he'd forgotten the little things. Of course, there was Rocky and he would give the world to the Eridian if he could. There was something different about hearing another set of breathing in a room, seeing them out of the corner of your eye and being reassured that someone was watching for you.
"That one's for you. It's more plain, easier on the stomach. Hope that's alright." Grace offered, pointing towards the mug, sitting down on the other side of the table with his own food. He'd not known whether Simon could use chopsticks either, giving him a fork and spoon. Simon looked, for lack of a better word, bewildered. Staring between the steaming mugs, then at Grace. He approached slowly, sitting down opposite the other. His hand slowly reached for the fork, watching how Grace was spinning the noodles around on it, copying him.
As the food reached his mouth though, there was an entire shift in attitude. He stared, like the noodles were made of gold, scooping up another forkful.
"I'm glad you like it, we have enough of those to feed a whole village. A human constant seems to be the love for ramen. We've got different flavours so we won't get bored. You've got chicken, I think."
Simon stopped, fork halfway to his mouth, staring again, as if Grace had grown an extra head, "Real chicken?"
"Yup, cooked and chopped and all, repacked for us to reheat."
Simon poked at the mug, eyes lighting up with what Grace could only call wonder. He winced a tad as he remembered a young girl looking up at him, who'd just found out how fireflies worked. It left a warm, hollow feeling. He chased it away as he focused back on Simon.
"What's the green and orange bits?" The man commented, poking them with his fork.
"That would be spring onion and carrots."
The other went silent, once again staring at the mug, swallowing. His eyes closed and he looked like he was battling back another wave of emotions.
"You okay?"
Simon finally nodded, "We don't have these on Eden. Not enough to go around. They're rare."
"Eden?" Grace questioned, tilting his head once again.
Simon followed in his confusion though, "Oh, you must have been on one of the other stations?"
"Stations? No, I was on Earth.. wait, you were on a space station? Living on a space station?"
Simon didn't see as Grace's eyes lit up, instead showing a completely blank expression, voice going low, disbelieving. "Earth's alive..?"
Grace froze, staring back at Simon with such confusion. "Yeah. Or, it was when I left. I'm trying to keep it alive, hopefully. I mean, it's kinda out of my hands now, the probes have gone back and have started their journeys home so.. it's up to them."
He spun noodles on his fork, before pausing. "This.. seems to confuse you."
Simon had remained silent, eyebrows furrowing, deep in thought. "The Earth.. it's gone. Been gone for.. centuries now."
Grace fumbled for his words, "What? No. No, that can't be right, it's.."
"The Quiet Rapture. The Earth is gone." Simon said, confusing him even more.
"No. No. That can't be right. Simon, I.. that's the whole reason I came out here, I came here to save Earth, to save our Sun, our stars and.. no, no, I fixed it." Grace suddenly looked up, catching Simon's eyes, a theory on his brain in an instant. "Simon, what year is it?"
"362 EIC." Simon responded almost instantly.
"What. No, it's 2037." Grace replied back, just as fast. "What the heck is EIC?"
"The calendar. The Epoch of Interplanetary Colonization. You're from 45 EIC?"
"Yeah, no, saying it twice does not make it any clearer." Grace blinked. "Hold on. Wait. What's the Quiet Rapture?"
Simon paused, as if saying anything would get him in trouble, or worse. If this truly was real, if this was actually happening.. would telling the truth get him thrown out? Maybe not the Quiet Rapture but.. Eden.. Filament Station..
"You first. How is Earth.. alive?" He tried, not wanting to talk just yet. "Why are you here?"
"I mean.. Okay. So.. This is gonna take a second." Grace started, seeing how Simon was, true to his name, listening intently. "I come from Earth. There was something eating our sun and we needed to figure out how to stop it, we called it Astrophage, the star eater. If we hadn't have intervened, the sun would have continued to disappear and.. well that's not good. For anyone."
He saw Simon's eyes light up at those words, listening even more intently.
"We figured out that it was travelling across a specific line, the Petrova line, one that they were making with their own specific wavelength of light. There were so many of these lines, spreading out across the universe. You could see from Earth, all the stars were dimming, except one. Tau Ceti. It wasn't dimming. So.. I ended up in space, to figure out why." He wondered if Simon could tell that he was leaving out a pretty significant part but his chest still ached to think about it. He didn't want to get into it. "I met Rocky, his planet had the same problem, their star was dying. He was on the same mission that I was. On Tau Ceti, we managed to find a predator for astrophage, wwe called it taumoeba. We split ways, Rocky had his own supply of taumoeba to take back to Erid and I had mine to take back to Earth. On my way back, it became apparent that the containers Rocky had made from Xenonite.. the taumoeba had figured out how to eat through it. Rocky's ship was completely made of xenonite. His ship would leak and he would die alone. So I sent off the probes to Earth and turned around. I had to go back to him."
He could tell Simon still had questions. Grace didn't know if he could answer them. "Then we found you."
Simon was staring at him still, something like tears forming in his eyes, "From where I come from.. the stars are dead. We don't know why. They just.. disappeared one day, all the planets too."
He didn't know why he was telling Grace all of this, he didn't know why he was confessing this all to a stranger.. but there was something in his eyes that told him that it was okay.. that it was safe.
"Everything but the stations. Billions of humans just.. gone. And we were left in the hell that got left behind. Humanity is always the same, it devolved into a them versus us dynamic and we started killing each other for survival. For resources. We-"
Simon suddenly cut off, staring down at the table, squeezing his eyes shut but scowling softly at himself.
"Oh my god. You're from a timeline that I failed." Grace said breathlessly. "That's why we couldn't track your ship, we couldn't see where it had been or where it was coming from, you just appeared... into the middle of nowhere in space. You survived in space in a submarine.. because of.. Oh my god. Simon, I.. I'm sorry."
He moved around the table, looking at Simon, not trying to force his gaze. "I'm so sorry."
"There was a solution?" Came the whisper. "We could've survived?"
Grace tentatively laid a hand on Simon's shoulder, surprised when he didn't shrug him off, he flinched, sure, but nothing further. He looked.. empty. Grace didn't blame him. The situation that he had found Simon in, to have that be a pretty much normal thing in his universe, he couldn't imagine how much worse the rest of it had to be. Simon leant forwards, resting his forehead onto the table as he shook.
A/N: lol, i forgot to post this but I thought I did and was so confused on how no one was seeing it. i fully thought I bombed and went into writer hell- but no, here it is <3
Read on Ao3 -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/83254351/chapters/222925491
Missed a Part? Part One , Part Two , Part Three , Part Four , Part Five , Part Six
Thrashing was the first thing he was aware of as he rounded the corner. The sound of something beating against a table, struggling like a prey animal trapped in a cage. He began to hear the distinct sounds of.. English?
"GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME- LET ME GO-"
Okay. He'd doubted that it was a human but that was an English voice and English words. Very angry English but English nonetheless.
"Incorrect. What is 2+2?"
Oh shoot, Armando. That was not what you wanted, waking up scared and confused and angry in a place you didn't know. Grace skidded his way into the medical room, eyes widening as the scene unfolded.
The person they'd rescued was thrashing on the table, looking like he might rip his remaining arm off in order to get free. Restraints were blocking him from doing so, tied around each ankle and his wrists. Not good. Very not good.
"FUCK YOU- YOU CAN'T KEEP ME HERE- FUCK YOU-" The figure screamed, spit flying from his mouth, the peaceful sleeping face from before gone, transposed with the snarling, aggressive one before Grace now.
"Incorrect. What is-"
"Four!" Grace called out, breathless, holding his hands up in surrender. "Armando, it's four, you can back down now, thank you-"
The shouting on the bed became silent momentarily. The eyes darted over to stare at him. His eyes held so many emotions, it took Grace a long second to decipher all of them. First and foremost, rage, violent and lashing. Underneath that, fear and confusion, driving the rage to its destructive conclusion.
"You can stick me in as many fucking hallucinations as you want, I'm not letting you have it!" The figured yelled out between breaths, heaving in as much air as he could to bellow out his next barbed word.
He writhed again, pulling at the restraint around his wrist and, for a horrifying moment, Grace thought he might break through. Whilst he hated the idea of restraining him, he didn't want him running around the ship and hurting Rocky. And, a little selfishly, he was quite terrifying right now.
"I know what you're doing-" The figure spat, staring directly at Grace with those wild eyes, "And I'm not letting you in, so FUCK OFF-!"
Grace continued holding his hands up, trying to speak in the most soothing tone he could muster. "I don't know where you think you are but I promise you're okay, you're on the Hail Mary, my name is Grace, I'm-"
The figure let out a hoarse, manic laugh. "Oh fuck off. That one's the worst you've done. The fucking Hail Mary? Full of fucking Grace?"
"Aggression detected, sedation advised." Armando suddenly spoke up, reaching forwards to the man on the table. Grace leapt forwards, stopping the robot in it's tracks.
"Nope, no, no, we're good- Just uh- No sedation, Armando, please?"
The figure was staring at him still, before attempting to break himself out of the bindings again, back arching with the strain he put into it. Thank god for the fact that they stayed intact. Grace didn't doubt that this guy could kill him if he wanted. Those wild eyes didn't stop glaring at him, even as he thrashed, looking like he was considering the best way to dismember him.
Then, suddenly, the thrashing stopped, replaced by a deep choking as the figure's chest spasmed, coughing sporadically. Blood splattered out, staining his face. Grace winced at how harsh the sound was, especially as the figure groaned when he was seemingly finished. It sounded painful.
Grabbing a wet cloth, Grace came a little closer, arms still raising in surrender, "Hey, I'm just gonna wipe that off, okay?"
As he reached closer with the cloth, he became very aware of the figure staring him down, even with his eyes half lidded with exhaustion but still determined to terrify him on approach. Grace pushed forwards, despite the anxiety roiling in his gut. The cloth touched his face and immediately the figure snapped to the side, teeth chomping into thin air as he bit down where Grace's hand had been moments before.
Grace took a breath, remaining in view of the man but taking a step back to gain some rapport. "Look, I cannot imagine how scared you must be. The situation that we got you out of.. I don't know how you got into it but it looked awful. I promise, I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help you."
He glanced back to the blood dribbling from his mouth, "I know you don't trust me. You have no reason to, really. Armando restrained you and I'm so sorry he did that but I'm scared if I take them off, you're going to run, okay? And I don't like doing it, it feels really cruel but I've got a friend on this ship who's really sensitive to radiation and you're currently full of it, so getting anywhere close to him would really hurt him."
Grace worried the edge of the cloth between his fingers, the cool water forming droplets on his hand, remembering how Rocky barely had the energy to drag himself to his enclosure. He took a steadying breath, looking back at the man on the bed. It was surprising to see the man staring back at him with those dark eyes, still squinted but not exactly scowling anymore. Like he was asking hundreds of mental questions, assessing scenarios and figuring out the most likely response. It was an analytical gaze, one that he could only remember seeing on Stratt in that dreaded meeting before he ran. He forced back the shiver that threatened to drive down his spine.
"It's just.. it's gonna dry and then get sticky and then itchy and you're probably in a lot of pain anyway, so taking any little bit away is the best I can do cause it's mostly a waiting game and-"
"Okay." The voice was low, hoarse and scratchy. Grace looked at his eyes, the analysis having yielded.. confusion. He blinked, then moved forwards slowly, still being cautious.
"Okay." He repeated back, softly. Grace reached out, using his free hand to stabilise the man's chin, gently tilting it so he could clear the blood a little easier. As he applied the cloth, a droplet ran off and Grace's eyebrows furrowed as the man eagerly swallowed.
"I'll grab you some water in a moment, okay?" Grace said, earning a confused glance from him. As he swiped the cloth over his skin, rubbing in gentle, repetitive circles, he felt how cold the man was, surprised that he wasn't shivering.
As promised, once he'd finished cleaning his face, Grace reached over to grab an IV bag filled with water, easier to drink in zero-G, he surmised. He also scooped his quilt, offering it carefully.
"Here. You looked cold." Grace explained, seeing the man glance at the blanket, then look back at him, more of that confusion. "It's a pretty soft one, one of my favourites, very good at warming."
To prove his point, Grace put part of the quilt underneath the man's hand, close enough that he could easily touch it. Fingers reached out, stroking over the surface. Grace looked up at him again, seeing that the man had completely looked away, focused on looking at his hand and the fabric in it. From Grace's perspective, he could see the confusion turn to wonder, turn to longing. Slowly, Grace moved the blanket so it was fully covering the man, tucking it around his body. The man looked back up at him, bewildered.
"I promise, I'm here to help. I don't want to hurt you anymore than you clearly have been." Grace explained again, watching as the man fully focused on him.
"You don't even know me." That broken voice said again.
Grace shrugged, "No, I guess I don't. Doesn't mean I'm just going to toss you into space though, hey?"
There was silence, the man clearly processing this. It didn't seem to be one of the options that he had considered at all.
"What's your name?" Grace prompted, watching him carefully.
The man swallowed, looking around as if something was going to jump out and grab him. Then, in a whispered, disbelieving. "Simon."
"Ah, the listener." Grace responded with a chuckle, "Good because I talk a lot."
"Water?" The man offered.
Simon couldn't understand why he was being so kind, why he was sharing supplies with a stranger, why he was offering to clean him, to keep him warm, to keep him comfortable. It confused him. It didn't make sense. It didn't make any goddamn sense. He was still restrained against the bed but the bed was soft. It had an actual mattress and pillows and there was an IV set up to give him hydration and nutrients and he didn't understand.
But God, he was thirsty. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and his throat was dry and it hurt to breathe. Cautiously, he parted his lips a little. The man placed the tap of the bag in his mouth like a straw.
"Just tap the bed when you're done, you can have as much as you need. According to Armando's data, you need to be drinking a stupid amount of water to help flush the radiation through. Apparently he's given you some kind of pill to protect your thyroid which is good, you kinda need that. Don't worry about drinking too much either, we have a recycling system on board so as long as that's running, we've got unlimited water."
With that, the man flicked the tap on, a steady stream of water flooding onto his tongue, rinsing out that horrendous iron taste. It flowed into him as the blood has done but this felt cleaner, like it was washing his insides free of the horrors of that damned ocean. He'd only meant to take a little, he knew that there was a recycling system but still, water was precious, but the taste was intoxicating, the refreshing relief from everything. His eyes closed in bliss as he heard his throat moving, gulping down as much as he could take. Selfish, he knew but he couldn't stop himself.
The tap moved, pulling back and he bit down on it, not willing to let the taste of being clean disappear.
"Simon, there's nothing left in the bag, you've emptied it." He heard the man say, opening his eyes slowly, finally letting the bag go after his tongue had lapped up the rest of the drops from the end. "I can give you more in a bit, let's just make sure you can hold that down first, okay?"
Through half lidded eyes (When had he gotten so tired?), Simon saw the man retreat, then sit down at a table and chair to his left. He tilted his head on the pillow to follow his motion, watching him cautiously.
"I'm gonna hang out here for a bit, okay? See what Armando's been doing and what the course of treatment is. I tend to think out loud, so just tell me to shut up if you need."
Simon watched as Grace tapped away at things on a tablet, presumably displaying whatever data this Armando had, scribbling things down onto random sheets of scrap paper. He glanced back to the robotic arm briefly, squinting at it. This was Armando?
His gaze flicked back as, true to his word, Grace started muttering over whatever he was seeing. "Ahh, so that's the IV. Hydration and a diuretic, now why would you.. oh the radiation, to flush it out, I'm with you, gotcha.. So what was the pill.. potassium iodide.. to protect the thyroid, that's pretty important.. ah, fabulous, morphine, fantastic painkiller.. trace amounts of the sedation given presumably before I got here.."
Simon felt strangely relaxed hearing the man's voice chattering on. Despite the reassurances that Grace has given him, that he could tell him to shut up at any moment, Simon didn't want to. Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe this was just the eel fucking with him. But it felt nice to be comforted. But.. every time the eel had appeared in some way to torment him, he'd always been instinctively ready to fight. But here, with Grace, sure he wanted to defend himself but.. he didn't want to swipe out and hurt him first. Sure, if this did turn out to be the eel, he'd go back to his normal, screaming and resisting and suffering.
His eyes slipped shut and he spoke into the clamouring of his mind, familiar words.
Our Father, who art in heaven. Are you still there? Have you closed the doors now that you've taken your chosen home?
Hallowed be thy name. You are as holy as they come because you are the definition of holy. We are made in your image. Am I made in your image still?
Thy kingdom come, Please, let it come home soon. We're sorry, I'm sorry. I was only a kid.
Thy will be done, You have a Great Plan. This is part of it, yes? We're not the ones left behind, we can still come home?
On Earth as it is in Heaven. Earth doesn't exist anymore. Does Heaven still prosper? I hope Heaven isn't like Eden.
Give us this day our daily bread. It isn't daily anymore. There is so little to go around. Forgive my selfishness.
And forgive us our sins, I have sinned so much. I'm so sorry, I promise, I'm sorry. I didn't know that I was sinning.
As we forgive those who sin against us, We forgive them, they do not know what they're doing. They don't know your plan, they have strayed.
And lead us not into temptation, Is this a test? I promise, if it is, I will do all I need to do to show you that I am still your son. Please, Father.
But deliver us from evil. Please. Please. No more. I can't take anymore, please.
For thine is the kingdom, I want to come home Father, please.
The power and the glory, You planned this, right? Forgive my doubts, I am human. This is your plan?
Forever and ever. Please, make the pain stop. We are suffering. We have learnt. Please, Father, please.
A/N: i was in my feels writing this. cried a couple times, haha. relating heavily top Grace right now.
Read on Ao3 -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/83254351/chapters/221526841
Missed a Part? Part One , Part Two , Part Three , Part Four , Part Five , Part Six
The heat was the first thing he was aware of. That burning, insufferable heat, soaking through every pore he had, choking him from the inside out. He could do nothing while he was suspended in agony, floating in irony filth.
He was going to die here. He was going to die. Ava had stopped responding and he knew that no one else on that damned ship wanted him alive. He was going to die, drowned and tortured for his sins. Would this amount to enough? All the blood that was currently killing him, was it only a fraction of the ones he had killed?
He was sorry, he was sorry, he hadn't meant any of it, it wasn't his fault! It wasn't his fault!
He slumped, feeling the weight grow on his shoulders, feeling the other arm wrenching from its socket with the attempt to keep him upright. There was no choice in the matter regardless, he was strung up by the creature that had made its way into the sub, ready for whatever the fuck it wanted to impose on him. No matter how hard he fought, no matter what he did, there was nothing he could do to escape. Cool air started to dawn on him, from his head to his feet and all he could do was relax into it. He was stuck in this hell, he had to take pleasures where he could find them, right?
Then he felt something inside of him begin to shift, like it was crawling around in. He felt himself cough, choke, gag on it, wanting nothing more than to be free from the feelings but he couldn't, he couldn't do anything he-
Something slipped out from between his lips and he doubled over, retching pitifully into wherever he was. God, make it stop, make it stop- he was sorry, he was sorry-
He just wanted to live. Was that so wrong? That he wanted to be so different from the universe he had grown up in, filled with dead stars and desert lakes, the only life left bearing their teeth in challenge and ripping apart at one another in one sick game. He was sorry, okay? He didn't know what he had done. He knew the extent of his sins but he had been doing them for the betterment of the collective, he had been trying to help, goddamnit- Whatever Eden had done, whatever they had set off, whatever they had used him to do, he didn't know any of it, he promised! He wasn't a part of it, please- please-
Please.. he just wanted to live..
Warmth surrounded him again and he couldn't help but shake as the position he was in switched. He couldn't quite explain it but it felt like his body was floating, bobbing along those endless waves on the blood. He couldn't see, couldn't force his eyes open, not that he wanted to. What would he be met with? A dead sky and the irreducibility of despair.
He heard voices in the distance and for a small moment, he shut them out, expecting the dead to be talking to him again, expecting the eel to be worming through his ears to devour his sanity. The voice was unintelligible, he didn't know what was being said, didn't know who was talking, or why.
Then a sudden cool. He'd stopped moving. His proprioception could tell him that at least. There was a warmth, something rubbing on him like.. well not like sandpaper, it didn't feel rough and it didn't feel like it was going to tear him apart. It felt soft.
So. He had died.
Was this heaven? This was too nice to be hell but that confused him. All the blood he had on his hands, all the souls he had taken, all the people that were lost because of him.. he couldn't deserve heaven. Maybe this was hell, maybe it would all change soon enough and it just wanted him to know the sweetness and the kindness of heaven so that it could rip it away from him again.
He tried not to take comfort in it. If it was going to be removed from him later, he didn't want to give it the satisfaction of hurting him anymore than would naturally happen. He grit his teeth as gentle touches ran through his hair. Whenever they caught on a snag, they would take their time to untangle it, washing it through. Something else was moving around him simultaneously, sticking him with things that itched, with things that were cold.
When he felt a sharp twing in his right arm, he tried his best to bear his teeth and snarl at whatever was touching him, but he felt nothing move. Certainly, nothing changed in however it was touching him. It continued, gentle and kind and careful. Like he was fragile. Like he was glass, destined to shatter.
He became aware of the cool air on his skin, switching as the things around him moved. His clothes were gone. Once again, he tried to will the strength to lash out, to bear his teeth and claws and force them off of him.
There was another sharp poke, feeling something sitting inside of his vein, sticking to his skin. His arm grew cold, his head grew fuzzy. He fought as the darkness swallowed him, to no avail.
---
Grace had been sitting with Rocky asleep for the last six hours. He hadn't left, not even once. Not even when he heard Armando speak. His curiosity be damned, he needed to look after Rocky right now. That was the most important thing for him. Besides, Armando could handle his own.
He didn't like the silence. He never had, really. It was why he spoke so much, like he was powered by an unyielding engine. Even when his students were taking tests, he couldn't stand it. He never spoke, gosh no, he'd never hinder his kids. But he could hear it all. The clock ticking away the seconds, the scratching of pencil against paper, the pattering of footsteps outside as teachers attempted to be quiet while passing.
The silence was more unbearable than the noise.
At least here he didn't need to be silent.
Grace started to hum, a familiar song, though he couldn't quite place where he had heard it. It brought back sensations with it, obnoxious laughter, the sticky sweet smell of alcohol..
"Just stop your crying, it's a sign of the times.." He sung to himself, remembering. A face swam into view, blonde, hard lined, impossible decisions. A tight desperation swelled in his chest.
Stratt.
It had been an interesting choice of song, for her to sing as she was sending people to their graves. Was he meant to forgive her? Even if it was inevitable, it wasn't fair. He hummed along to the song, throat choked too much to sing at points.
"Stop your crying, baby, it'll be alright. They told me that the end is near."
He hated her. He hated that he hated her, she was just doing what needed doing but.. god did he hate her. It was a necessary evil. He was just a sacrificial lamb. His life for humanities. A small price, really. What was one person to the entirety of earth? Did she regret it? Or did she just know it had to be done?
Grace had never wanted to be a hero. He'd just wanted to be.. a person. He never needed to be someone's person, sure, Stratt was right on that front, but did a lack of significant connection mean that the only ones he had should be severed? Was being Dr Grace not enough? Was being Mr Grace to his students not enough?
"Just stop your crying, have the time of your life.. breaking through the atmosphere, things look pretty good from here.." He continued softly to himself alone. It wasn't meant to be alone. Yao and Ilyukhina were meant to be here with him. DuBois was meant to be here, not him. He had ran. He had ran and they'd caught him and shoved him into a metal coffin and threw it into space.
She'd sent him to his death, packed his bags and shipped him 11 light years away from earth. But she'd packed his bags. She hadn't packed his best clothes, there were none of his work suits here. She hadn't packed those stifling collars or heavy jackets. She'd packed his cardigans, his stupid science shirts, his clothes. She'd packed his little crochet earth, well wishes from his kids, a handmade quilt with luck from every single place on earth. All so that he knew he was-
Loved.
She hadn't packed for his funeral. She'd packed for his rebirth.
Grace choked on his breath, feeling fat tears rolling down his cheeks, holding his hands in his lap. She'd remembered enough that she'd made sure Armando was programmed to give him a testosterone shot every two weeks. He'd checked, they had a stupid supply of the stuff, far more than the food that had been packed. She had made sure it was there, even though it wasn't a necessity, even though he wasn't even meant to be there.
She'd killed Ryland, that day in the dirt. He'd been screaming and begging and pleading.
But she'd made sure Grace, her Saving Grace, had flown higher than he'd ever believed possible.
"Fuck."
Grace buried his head in his knees and sobbed.
---
Simon came to slowly, throat sticking to itself, body heavy and immobile. He didn't hurt as much as he thought he would. His body felt fuzzy, floating. His eyelids felt cemented, taking far too much effort to try and open them. And god, he was blinded as soon as he did so. Harsh white swamped his vision, sharp, imposing lights flared above him.
Something made a noise, perhaps talking. He couldn't tell, it was all garbled in his ears. It was as something leant into his vision that he startled, pressing himself into the solid surface underneath him. A glance to his right arm told him that there was something sticking out of him. He reached over with his left hand to rip it out, so that he could then punch whatever was looming over him and run and-
He reached over with his left hand.
He reached over with his left hand.
He reached
Chest heaving, he turned his head to his left, blood running cold at the empty space where his arm should be. He could feel it, he could feel his hand, where was it, where the fuck was it-
There was a snap as his body seemed to remember how to move, right hand reaching over to slam at the space where his arm should be, desperate to rip through the layers of reality.
Simon scrambled, trying his best to force his body to move, to move himself from the surface he was laying on and to run, to escape and-
A sharp prick, cold rushing into his right arm, spreading across his body, paralyzing him. He could feel his body sagging into the surface, like it could melt through. Simon choked on the exhaustion rushing through him, bearing his teeth in a scowl, trying to fight it, trying to get up, to do something, anything, to do-
---
Grace looked up from his knees as he heard a small movement, immediately glancing over to his left, seeing Rocky shifting around.
"Hey, take it easy. You awake?" He questioned softly. He wouldn't be able to wake him up anyway, if he was loud, but it felt like common courtesy.
Rocky lifted his carapace slightly, shuffling a little closer to the xenonite barrier with a chitter. Grace lifted his hand to rest flat against it, seeing Rocky press his body into the wall in turn.
"How long sleep, question?" Rocky finally said, stretching out his limbs one by one.
"About nine hours." Grace supplied, stretching out his own legs. "How're you feeling?"
"Less tired." As Rocky stretched, Grace watched as some of his exterior broke off like shale disconnecting from stone. He winced as it hit the floor with a thunk. "Warm again. Grace stay and watch Rocky sleep?"
Grace nodded, "Yeah, I couldn't leave you by yourself, especially when you weren't feeling great. I'm.. I'm sorry, by the way, for insisting we investigate the sub, it's my fault you got hurt."
"Grace right, Grace make mistake. Mistake hurt Rocky. Rocky could have died because Grace stupid."
Grace curled a little into himself at the response, nodding along.
"But Rocky also stupid. Not big stupid, like Grace. Little stupid. Rocky would have done same for Grace. Has done same for Grace."
"It's not exactly the-"
Rocky stamped his foot on the ground, clearly telling Grace to stop interrupting. Grace, cleverly, shut up.
"Grace kind. Grace help Rocky, even when it mean Grace never home to Earth. Grace kind. Want to help unknown person. Rocky is Grace best friend. Grace is Rocky best friend. Grace stupid, yes. Rocky help fix big stupid to make small stupid. Rocky help."
Grace was silent for a moment, not sure what to say. Then, he wrapped his arms as far as they could reach around Rocky's enclosure. "Love you, Rock."
"Rocky love Grace friend too." Rocky stated as he pressed back against the barrier.
They stayed like that for a good moment, before, in the distance, he heard Armando speak. He'd heard it earlier, but he hadn't wanted to leave Rocky's side.
"Eye movement detected, cognition assessment, trial two. What is 2+2?"
Then the sound of choked yelling and crashing.
"Rocky okay, go check on new person, now, now, now!"
Grace didn't need anymore approval, jumping up and sprinting towards the medical bay.
A/N: Please don't kill me, I swear he's fine. And also, don't worry, Simon finally pops up next chapter haha
Read on Ao3 -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/83254351/chapters/219279606
Missed a Part? Part One , Part Two , Part Three , Part Four , Part Five , Part Six
It took far too long to cut the man down. He didn't fully know how he had managed to do it, determination, insanity, divine intervention.. Actually, he wasn't sure how wrong he was about that. As he had been using whatever sharp objects he could get his hands on, Rocky consistently demanding he was careful, a few times he had looked over his shoulder, thinking he had heard Rocky speaking, when the Eridian hadn't. Grace had looked back at the person strung up but there were still vines down their throat, there was no way they were speaking.
"Why Grace look back, question?" Rocky spoke up, spinning around in his ball, just to check that there wasn't anyone there.
"Is Mary talking?" Grace questioned, tilting his head. He tugged his shirt away from his side, where it had been sticking because of it being soaked in blood. It had become clear from the get go that these clothes were sacrificial, just like whatever was going on in the submarine before they had gotten there. His fingers were sticking together but there was no point trying to wear gloves, they would just have the same problem.
"No. Mary quiet."
"Armando?"
"Armando quiet. Grace hear something, question? Rocky not hear something." Rocky responded, seeming to look back at the ship, just in case.
Okay. If Rocky really didn't hear anything, then no one was there. Rocky had incredible hearing, could hear Grace from all the way on the other side of the ship, even if he was whispering. If Rocky heard nothing, there was nothing.
Grace took a deep breath, calming his nervous heart as much as he could. His shaking hands took hold of the vines once more, sawing away at them.
"Grace?" Rocky called out from behind him.
"Yeah, bud?" Grace returned, glancing back at his friend. The Eridian had stayed as far away from the sub as possible, refusing to leave the room because he didn't want to leave Grace alone.
"Can leave. Do not have to stay." The Eridian posed again, shifting anxiously.
"I know. I..." For a moment, he considered it. Cutting off the xenonite tunnel, disappearing back into Mary and scrubbing his body raw, forgetting about all of it. Then, he couldn't breathe for a moment, overridden by the guilt and desperation about being left behind again.
Being left behind again? No, about leaving the person behind. Right?
"I can't leave them alone." Grace finally said, quietly.
Rocky was silent for a moment. "... Understand. I wait here."
"Thank you." Grace sighed, relaxing a little, going back to work.
He grasped hold of the vines coming out of his mouth, being reminded of the ventilator he was on when he first woke up. Was this a good idea? Something in him told him to do it, to remove them. Against his better judgement, listening to the loud voice in his head, he started to tug them out. Grace cringed at the choking noise but it was necessary. It was necessary.
The figure coughed, starting to gag as the vines left their throat, left their mouth. Grace caught hold of them as they retched, vomiting up mouthfuls of blood.
"You're okay, you're okay-" Grace soothed, though he doubted the figure could hear him. He tossed the vines that he had removed aside, hooking an arm under the figure's arm to keep them as stable as possible, leaning the figure forwards. God, with the amount the figure was rejecting, was their entire digestive system filled with blood?
As the figure lolled, falling forwards, Grace moved himself in the way, letting them fall into him. "I gotcha, I gotcha. You're okay."
It was as he was holding them up that he realised their body was uneven. Their left arm was missing. From the way he was strung up, there was no way that they would have been able to reach the porthole to wave to them. With that slight horror in mind, he glanced over to the porthole. There, on the ground, melting away into the pools of blood, was the fleshy remains of a detached arm.
Grace groaned, holding down another gag of his own. "Nope. Nope. I don't need the answers to that."
Hoisting the body into his arms, leaning their head against his shoulder, he was fully prepared to leave, looking back towards Rocky. "I'm going to take them through to Armando, okay? Do you want to come with?"
Rocky shifted from side to side, tapping his feet against the floor, not providing a response just yet.
"You don't have to." Grace offered, gauging his reaction.
"Rocky protect Grace. But Rocky don't feel good." The Eridian chittered, lowering himself down a little.
"That's okay. You got your listening ears on?"
"Don't have ears."
"It's a figure of speech, bud. What I mean is, you can go and do something else, you can hear me, so I'll call if I need you, okay?"
"Grace promise?"
"I promise."
Rocky made a noise that Grace didn't completely know what it meant. Then, Rocky started moving himself away, turning left down the hall to the lab. Grace walked that way, then turned right towards the medical bay.
"Armando, need your help here." Grace called out to the medical robot as he entered its chambers. He was grateful to see that the robot almost immediately answered his call, stretching its silicon hand in what Grace could only describe as autonomous surprise. Swiftly, gently, he lay the body down on the medical table, watching as the sterile white surfaces tinged red with the blood dripping off of the body.
"Okay, you do the medical stuff that you need to do, I will start clearing him off however I can, deal?" Grace knew that Armando would have done that anyway, he was just rambling to himself for his own benefit, to calm his own nerves.
In the corner of the room, there was a cabinet with a sink. Supposedly left so that the crew could patch each other up when they didn't want the robot to do it; at least Stratt had left them options. He rifled through the drawers, pulling out each and every one till he could find what he needed. Needles, no. Gloves and aprons, he was too far gone, too soaked for that to be of any use now. Wipes, flannels, antiseptic soap, now that was a step in the right direction. Grace put them up on the top of the cabinet for safe keeping. More drawers, more cupboards. Bandages and spare suture cartridges for Armando, best put them aside just in case. Tampons and pads, probably packed for Ilyukina, Grace hadn't needed them himself in ages. Ahah! Bowl!
With the success of finding a bowl, Grace started filling it up with warm water, squeezing a healthy dose of the antiseptic soap, bringing it and all of the antiseptic flannels he could find over towards the figure on the bed.
Armando was already hard at work, setting up sensors and monitors. To make sure everything went smoothly, Grace started his cleaning as quickly as possible. First, he cut away the existing clothing, knowing that they, like his own outfit, were past saving. Anything that seemed sentimental that could be saved, he placed on top of the cabinet to disinfect and return later. That included a bracelet and a keychain of some kind, with what appeared to be a glass circle on the end. Though he wanted to investigate further, that wasn't his priority right now.
Slowly but surely, the figure became clearer as he cleaned. A litany of scars and bruises and wounds, all clamouring for Armando's attention as soon as they were revealed to the light. The figure had dark, almost black, hair, down past their shoulders, of which Grace took great care in washing off properly. They had lost an arm, Grace cleaned the remaining shoulder but left Armando to bandage it back up. Slowly but surely, the figure below him started looking.. well.. human. Grace didn't really believe it; what was a human doing so far out in space? Surely Stratt hadn't sent anyone else just yet, had she?
Even as he looked over to Armando's screen, adapting his hypothesis from the information, he was still stunned. A human. Yeah, that DNA signature matched up pretty closely. Grace leant against the wall as he looked over the screen in more detail.
A human. Another human.
Grace looked back up at the monitor, eyes widening as he read what was on screen, as he took in the information. Radiation. The figure had radiation poisoning. Not enough to harm Grace but what about Rocky, he was more susceptible to it and-
"Mary, where is Rocky right now?" He called out to the ships computer, leaving Armando with the new human, taking off at a run towards the shower.
"Rocky is currently in Hallway B." Hallway B, he hadn't even made it to the lab. Oh, Rocky-
Grace had the quickest shower he had ever had, scrubbing his body raw to get rid of any radiation that could harm his friend. He shoved his soiled clothes into a bin, swearing that he'd find some way to contain them, though the radiation coming off was likely negligible, he couldn't be too careful, this was Rocky after all. He chucked clothes onto himself, before sprinting down towards Hallway B.
"Rocky! Rocky!" He called out, eyes widening as he rounded the corner, finding Rocky sat down in his ball. "Hey, hey, hey, Rocky, you awake?"
"Grace loud. Grace.. wet." The Eridian responded, much to Grace's relief, some amount of stress leaving his body.
"Oh thank god, you're okay. You're okay." Grace breathed, kneeling down next to his friend.
"Rocky doesn't feel good."
"I know, I know. The figure, they're suffering from radiation sickness. It's too little to affect me but you're more susceptible to this." Grace explained, watching Rocky's carapace flutter, as if he was breathing. "Look, why don't we get you set up with your heat lamp and things like that, hey? Like when you were recovering from my atmosphere."
Rocky didn't respond for a moment, before shifting to stand on his legs, rocky appendages trembling a little. A scared musical whine, one that Grace needed no translation for.
"No. You won't die. I won't let that happen. I'll sit with you, yeah? I'll watch you sleep. Come on buddy."
Slowly, Grace walked the two of them back to the bedrooms, leading Rocky into his enclosure, one the Eridian had made for himself so that he could sleep overtop of Grace, to watch him completely. Grace watched as the ball docked and Rocky walked his way out, staggering his way towards the platform he slept on. Turning on all of the heat lamps he could find, he directed them at Rocky, listening as his friend chittered.
"I'm right here. You're not alone." He soothed, curling up underneath the Eridian, keeping his eyes open and focused. Armando would take care of the new human and, well, there wasn't anything left that he could do. Besides, if it came to the decision, Grace knew he would pick Rocky, without question.
A/N: Holy smokes, there are a lot of you wanting to read this- Uh, if you'd like to be updated when a chapter drops, feel free to request to be tagged in the comments I guess?
Read on Ao3 -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/83254351/chapters/219279606
Missed a Part? Part One , Part Two , Part Three , Part Four , Part Five , Part Six
The next five minutes had consisted of Rocky and Grace arguing over the next course of action. Grace wanted to go outside in his suit and have a proper look at the vessel, to see if there was something actually in there. Rocky wanted the exact opposite of that, getting a weird feeling. The argument ended with Rocky grumpily watching through the window and Grace heading out in his suit, communicating over the radio.
Grace floated weightlessly out in space, the propulsion of his jump from Mary enough to sail him over towards the SM-13. He latched himself on as best as he could, grabbing onto the exposed metal rings around the submarine, his safety rope trailing out behind him.
"Weird." He commented, pulling his way across the metal surface, "There's no entrance."
"Maybe small crew." Rocky crackled in over the radio.
"Maybe. I'm pretty sure I saw a hand though, so it seems out of proportion." Grace scrabbled towards the port hole, ending up peering down over the top of the window. It was covered in a thick film, something weirdly congealed. He reached out to rub it off with his glove, finding the substance sticking to his suit, stretching away from the submarine like some grisly version of a cheese pull. Once he could actually see it a little better, the window seemed to be cracked, in a very odd patterning, almost like.. the roots of a tree.
The ship still continued to float, still seeming to be somehow steering despite being.. well, he didn't even know how it could steer in space. It made no sense. It dragged itself along in a definitive line, like a boat cresting over the waves.
"Rocky, can you check something for me?" Grace called back over.
"Check what, question?" Came the response.
"Where's the Petrova line right now?"
"Grace want to see Petrova line, question?" Rocky responded.
"Yeah, yeah. Please."
Rocky flipped the switch and the infrared camera flicked on. Rocky aimed it towards Grace and.. oh. His hypothesis was correct. He didn't know how to feel about that. Around him, the void of space became a glittering, vibrant red, flowing towards the stars nearby. Grace wasn't looking there though.
He was looking back at the SM-13, how the astrophage surrounded it, cushioned it, moved it. It was moving it. It was moving it, like ants bustling underneath a particularly hefty stick. Grace pulled himself back towards Mary with his rope, before launching himself back at the space submarine, knocking into it with his entire body, spinning off the top of it. He watched intently, constantly spinning to readjust his viewing angle. The SM-13 definitely reacted to his minor battering, knocking sideways, starting to turn out of the visible Petrova line. Then, something horrifying and fascinating happened.
The Petrova line expanded. It widened, flattening itself out to cover more ground. Astrophage surrounded the ship, climbing up the edge closest to falling out of the succession of the line, seemingly pushing it back into the direction everything else was travelling.
"Why Grace hit SM-13, question? Bad ship, question?" Rocky spoke. Grace could picture how he was stood right now, carapace tilted like a curious animal.
"I.. it's following the Petrova line.. when I knocked it, it almost went out, then the astrophage dragged it back in."
"What, statement."
"It's like it's herding it. It won't let it get off course."
Grace had floated far enough back now that he could grab back onto the SM-13, hooking himself back on. Now that the infrared was on though, Grace's eyes widened. The entire ship was lit up, everything but the metal and the rust. All of the red spots that he'd assumed were rust before were.. astrophage? And that porthole.. the porthole was glowing.
"Oh my god.. It's all astrophage. They have enough space to escape, why are they taking the sub along with them? Was the astrophage the life signature Mary detected?"
The glowing red of the porthole separated as the hand appeared again but this time, probably because he was closer, he could see the nails on the hand, red crusted underneath them. Grace's breath caught in his throat as the hand started moving again. Not just floating, moving, as if it was scratching at the glass, like something trapped in a cage. He could feel the vibrations of something powerful slamming into the metal of the sub.
"Rocky, how quickly can you make some kind of docking station?" Grace responded, between mumbled "holy smokes" and "how in the heck"'s.
"Rocky work fast. Can make quick. Grace come back while Rocky work, statement."
"Yeah, yeah, I can come back. I can do that. Uh.."
"Grace not coming back. Grace come back now." There was that worry again.
"I'm coming, I'm coming, don't worry."
Grace pulled on the rope attaching him back to Mary, pulling himself back towards his ship, separating himself from the submarine. As he pulled himself into the airlock, he glanced back, a nervous excitement growing in him. Something new, something to figure out, some more knowledge on the astrophage..
If Grace ever chose anyone to get stuck in space with again, it would be Rocky. He was quick, he was clever and he made the most incredible structures. God, he was so clever. Within the hour, Rocky had managed to form a tunnel to connect the Hail Mary to the SM-13, just like he'd done before with Mary and his own ship, this time with bonus shelving and hanging points for Grace's very much needed lights. The Eridian had even included, right at the edge where the SM-13 connected, a deep ditch to let all the astrophage and whatever the liquid was in the submarine drain out, complete with a walkway across the hole so that both of them could traverse across.
Grace, wielding the torch he'd used to cut Rocky away from his ship the first time, stared at the hull of the submarine. The way Rocky had made the docking point was to partially seal the SM-13 in, just so the astrophage wouldn't try recorrecting its course and taking the Hail Mary with it. Because of this, Grace could see the porthole. He did not want to see the porthole particularly.
The hand was still there. Still moving. Tapping impatiently against the glass.
"This bad idea. Go back to ship. Forget about bad ship." Rocky chittered from behind him, once more expressing his vehement dislike of the current situation.
"You know, you don't have to be here, right?" Grace glanced back, looking at Rocky through the glass of his ball.
"Rocky protect Grace. Grace not die because Grace stupid."
"Thank you for the vote of confidence."
"Rocky did not vote."
Grace closed his eyes momentarily, "I know, it's just a.. manner of speech. I'll explain it later."
"Could explain now. Ignore ship." Rocky perked up, turning around in his ball to roll back to Mary. Grace put a hand on his hip, sighing.
"Rocky, come on, this could be really important information about the astrophage."
"Have information about astrophage. Can kill astrophage, mission success. Do not need more astrophage." Rocky stomped his foot inside the ball, refusing to turn around.
There was another knocking noise and, upon looking back, Grace saw the hand at the window knocking on the glass again. Now though, the skin was.. blistered and coloured an angry red.
"I'm opening it." Grace concluded, much to the frustration of the Eridian, who said some things that the computer did not have words for yet. He'd program them later.
He held the torch more definitively in his hands, fingers hovering over the on button. A deep breath in, a slow breath out. He clicked it on, starting to cut.
As soon as the flame hit the metal, there was a creaking sound, then the liquid inside started to leak out. It was thick, shiny and smelt of iron and death. Grace had to turn the torch off for a moment to breathe through his mouth so he wouldn't throw up. When he continued and the amount of liquid coming out just got worse, he shuddered. Still, he persisted, cutting a hole large enough for him to be able to step through. The slab of metal creaked, then slipped out with the pressure of the liquid inside, pouring out of the sub. Grace stumbled backwards, feeling the red liquid splatter on him, watching it fall into the ditch Rocky had made. As he realised what the liquid was, he did throw up, thankfully into the ditch, where it quickly disappeared.
"It's blood, oh my god it's blood."
It smelt like death. It smelt horrific and metallic, full of fear and desperation and death.
As the level of the reservoir rose, tendrils and weird branch like structures revealed themselves, spreading from a singular point in the middle of the sub. They seemed to have colonised every point of the ship, making the surfaces unreadable and grim to look at. He had to look though, he had to understand and decipher what he was looking at. The first thing that came to his attention was a set of four lights lit up underneath a glowing O2 sign. If that was indicating how much oxygen was being stored, it was surely wrong. With the amount of.. blood that had been filling the ship, there wouldn't have been any room for oxygen. Maybe there was an external tank but.. well, he hadn't seen any structure outside that could've been a tank.
Nearby the O2 meter was a depth gauge, though it was broken and filled with blood, making it unreadable. The main controls were.. rudimentary at best. Just two lever systems, seemingly one going up and down and one going left and right. The porthole, now he could see it properly, seemed like it had already been shattered and was now being held together by the congealed blood. At the rear, what appeared to be a computer, a large screen and a dimly glowing button. Something in him warned him not to touch it.
In the centre of the hull, to his horror, a humanoid form was being revealed, strung up like a deformed puppet, no, a perversion of all those Jesus statues. And those disgusting vines.. veins..? Whatever they were, they were growing out of the humanoids mouth. Grace resisted the urge to gag again.
The blood was drained enough now that Grace could walk in without much issue. It.. it looked human. Head, shoulders, knees, toes. It breathed like a human, it's chest rose up and down.
Okay, okay. Cut it loose, then figure out what to do next. Maybe clean it? Hopefully Armando would know what to do. He swallowed down his fear, a faint memory flashing in his head, wincing at the slight headache it caused.
"You can be scared, that's okay. It's normal to be scared." He heard himself saying. The face of a young child flickered in his mind, at eye level so he must've been crouched down to make them equal. He was forgetting their features, forgetting their faces but he knew that every one of those kids was important to him. "What makes you brave is that you keep going. Do it scared."
Do it scared. Do it scared. Follow your own advice for once.
He stepped forwards into the ship of death, the SM-13, the bloody nightmare that it was and started cutting the figure loose.
A/N: Yeah, the BloodyMary got to me. whoops. Suffer with me I guess.
Read on Ao3 -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/83254351/chapters/219279606
Missed a Part? Part One , Part Two , Part Three , Part Four , Part Five , Part Six
"Beetles are launched, everything is in order, autopilot is functioning. I'd say, for two idiots, we did pretty good."
"One idiot. Rocky not idiot."
Grace rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah. Well. One idiot and one not idiot. Time for us to head home, hey?"
Rocky hummed brightly. Grace didn't need the translator for that one, smiling back at his friend.
They'd done it. They'd saved Erid, they'd saved Earth. The taumoeba was on its way to Earth, in the capable hands of beloved musicians. Specially bred, nitrogen resistant taumoeba, that Grace had figured out, that Rocky had facilitated their existence. All cocooned safely in a peanut jar, scribbled on with duct tape and sharpie. It would do. It would be safe. It was taking the journey that Grace thought he had once wanted, back to Earth.
Looking over at his new co-pilot, his new friend, he couldn't imagine being anywhere else. Sure, it would take some time to adapt to the loss of human contact but he could make do. He already made do on earth, he could do it again. Plus, Rocky had said they'd be able to build a habitat for him, some kind of biosphere. The Eridian had assured him that it would all be perfectly fine, that he'd oversee all the planning to make sure it was perfect for Grace to live on.
He couldn't have asked for a better friend, really.
"Grace leaking." Rocky questioned, a tad bit of computer generated worry in his robotic voice. He tapped his feet against the transparent interior of his ball. "Can change plan. Grace go home to Earth."
"No, no, it's okay Rocky." Grace quickly interrupted before he could get too ahead of himself, "I'm just.. happy you're here. That's all. I'm glad to be going back home with you."
Rocky relaxed; Grace had gotten pretty good at reading him by now, seeing the way his carapace separated like the untensing of muscle.
"Let's go home."
Grace pressed the button to start the autopilot journey, feeling the ship below him whirring into life, seeming to vibrate with her own excitement. He beamed, leaning back against Rocky, settling in for the journey.
"Collision imminent." Mary warned.
"Wait, what-" Grace barely had time to process before the ship jolted, being knocked backwards by a force powerful enough to send him spinning up towards the ceiling. He spun around to see the porthole to space and-
What.
There, in the middle of the nothingness, blanketed by stars, was a small, rusted cuboid of metal, barely bigger than one of the sleeping pods.
"Shoot- shoot- shoot-" Grace cursed, fumbling over the gripping points to get back to the pilots chair, fastening himself in and quickly grabbing hold of the gear stick, shoving the Hail Mary out of the way of the sudden intrusion.
As they made a safe amount of distance, Grace started to recognise that Rocky had been talking, the entire time, asking him who knows how many questions.
"What SM-13 mean, question?" Grace finally heard, blinking down at his companion, watching as the hunk of metal floated past.
"I.. don't know. What in the.." Grace unstrapped himself, floating back towards the window. "Mary, where did that come from?"
"Unknown." Brilliantly helpful.
"Was not there, did calculations. Was not there." Rocky was chattering to himself now, seemingly counting on his fingers to see if he had.. somehow made a miscalculation. "Wasn't there, now is there."
Grace watched as the.. unknown SM-13 drifted across a.. very familiar looking trajectory. That couldn't be right. Why would it.. But.. He ran his fingers through his hair, it was. It really was. But why? And how??
The ship was tiny, it didn't seem to have any engines or thrusters and the further away it got, the more Grace couldn't believe that it was still somehow surviving in the pressure of space. It had one massive, bulky looking fan on the back, with a rudder attached but.. that wouldn't travel in space? It just.. couldn't.
Unnervingly, the SM-13 seemed to be turning back towards them but Grace couldn't see the rudder moving. It just continued to swing around, till it was facing back towards him, one tiny porthole at the front looking like it was staring into Grace's very being. The porthole itself was red, with a weird.. spongey looking texture on it. He hadn't seen anything like it before and-
A hand shot out, slamming against the porthole, submerged in a thick, red liquid, sliding down the window before disappearing out of sight.
over time Grace’s English is more musical than before. No more monotone, it’s just naturally shifting from tone to tone. It sounds beautiful and sometimes eerie. When Simon joins them he’s taken aback on how angelic Grace is. He shouldn’t be, it’s his saving grace after all.
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