synopsis: you were in a bad mood. ryland and rocky do their best in hopes of making you feel better. they’ll do anything to turn that frown upside down.
warnings: tickle fic—swearing. back tickles masked as a massage. ler!ryland grace. very slight ler!rocky. no use of y/n. few mentions of they/them pronouns. you’re lowkey a dick towards ryland and rocky but all is well.
author’s note: i was so mad earlier today i wrote this to cope. it’s just one fic after another, i’m on a roll. now if only i can focus on chapter three…
word count: 3.2k
You were in a bad mood. It wasn’t anything Ryland or Rocky did to make you that way. At least not them specifically. You had just woken up on the wrong side of the bed and every little minor inconvenience was building up like a bomb inside of you.
Perhaps it was the stress of trying to figure out why the ship’s spin drives were acting up, leading to them being stuck in the middle of their journey towards Tau Ceti-E. You had gone out multiple times to survey the ship’s exterior, examining every little spin drive connected to the thrusts. You silently cursed Dimitri for making a thousand and nine spin drives. This was the same as counting every blade of grass on a lawn.
Nothing was visibly wrong with them, it had to be an internal mechanical issue then. Maybe it was shut down for a system update or something?
With this present issue making you wrack your brain for solutions, Ryland and Rocky’s duo idiocy made it hard to stay focused. You could hear their bantering every time you walked through the lab, their stupid little tangents about time dilation and relativity were getting mixed up in your head.
Rocky had accidentally bumped into you at one point with his ball while you were writing down notes and equations on the white board, causing you to streak a line through some of it. Rocky hadn’t seemed to notice his little mishap until he was sent rolling across the lab by a sudden kick from you.
He called out your name in a panic, confused by what had happened but you were already stomping out of the room. Ryland wasn’t safe from your foul attitude either. He was slurping up a cup of ramen while walking down the corridor and you just happened to be right around the corner when you collided.
“Oh shoot! Sorry— I didn’t see you there,” he swiftly apologized.
Ramen broth had spilled on the front of your jumpsuit and your face twisted in a scowl. “Fucking hell,” you spat, trying to wipe off the stain.
You shoved past Ryland, knocking shoulders and he watched you retreat in bewilderment. He’d never seen you act like that before. Sure you could get a bit snippy here and there, especially when you hadn’t eaten all day, but that was a bit over the top. He soon found Rocky still stuck upside down in his ball when he entered the lab and realized he wasn’t the only victim of your strange behavior. The two came to the conclusion that you were in a very bad mood today.
“Need do something. Need talk,” Rocky said, stomping one of his legs.
“I’m not sure talking is the right solution here, buddy. It could end very badly,” Ryland replied. His hands wrung themselves in a nervous habit, pulling at the joints as he tried to think of ways to clear the misunderstanding.
“Well, what happened, not nice.”
Rocky seemed rather upset about being treated poorly like some elder mad at the young generation for being disrespectful. It was a little funny how adamant he was about it but Ryland agreed that you needed a way to blow off some steam before you blew up and everything else on the ship.
“I know, I know. But I think we need to go with a different approach. Find a way to help them relieve some stress,” Ryland explained. “They’re working very hard to try and fix the ship’s issue, we should offer some help of our own.”
Rocky hummed in thought, his head tilted down slightly. “Relieve stress. Make happy? Question.”
Ryland nodded. “It is beneficial for humans to find ways to cope and relieve stress. Or else it could affect their mental psyche and even lead to bodily injury.” That made Rocky less mad about the recent incident and more worried about your wellbeing.
The two began to concoct a plan in order to help you feel better and turn that foul mood around. It wasn’t easy. Ryland was a simple guy and was happy with almost anything, while Rocky still struggled to understand human emotions and why they were so finicky.
So they decided to work their way up.
Plan A: a compliment.
“I like your shirt.” Ryland pointed out the new clothing you branded after changing out of the ramen stained jumpsuit.
You just gave him a sideways glance. “Had to change because of someone.”
His smile dropped. Awkward. “Oh. Right.”
Plan Failed.
Plan B: a present made with love.
Rocky slowly rolled himself over to you at the table, being careful this time not to run into you.
“Rocky have gift.”
You looked up from the laptop, raising an eyebrow at the Eridian. He shifted from leg to leg nervously before pushing forward a medium sized model made of xenonite. You leaned down to pick it up. It was a model of the Hail Mary, very detail-oriented with almost all of its exteriors crafted to a t.
You were impressed to say the least. “Thanks, Rocky.” You turned the ship around and examined all its parts. And then you stopped to stare at the engines where the spin drives were. Rocky managed to even capture every little detail of the spin drives. This would’ve made any lego or diorama nerd ecstatic. But for you—you just got pissed off by the reminder that you still had no idea what was wrong with them.
You slammed the model on the table and went back to aggressively typing on the computer. Rocky flinched at the loud clatter, his legs trembling as he rolled out of the room.
Plan Failed.
Plan C: a little bit of pampering and special treatment.
You were sitting on the pulled out bunk with a bag of Milano cookies between your legs. You were just staring at the wall in thought while munching on the cookies one after another.
The sound of footsteps and the rumbling of Rocky’s ball entered the dormitory. You didn’t bother to look over at them.
“We brought more snacks.”
“Have special treatment!”
They crowded around you on the cot, a pile of chips and candies dropped on the padded flooring. Ryland stood behind you while Rocky rolled back and forth in front of your dangling legs.
“We decided to offer you a little massage, y’know, to help you relax,” Ryland said, rubbing his hands together.
“Rest legs on Rocky ball,” the Eridian jigged up and down cheerily and you wondered if he was that excited to be used as a foot stool.
You felt Ryland’s hands clamp over your shoulders and his thumbs began pressing between your shoulder blades. Rocky situated himself underneath your legs, but he was quite bad at staying still. The octagonal shape of his xenonite ball rolled against the muscles of your legs like one of those foam rollers.
“Does it feel good? Is it relaxing?”
“Rocky ball feel good? Question.”
God these two never knew when to shut up. You sighed quietly, attempting to tune them out. The massage wasn’t too bad, Ryland surprisingly knew all the right spots to press. His thumbs shifted a little high, digging into the base of your neck.
You tensed. Ryland took that as a sign for muscle tightness and rubbed deeper into the tissue. Shit. It tickled. Rocky’s ball even nudged against the back of your knees and you jerked them up out of reflex. No way, you were not going through with this.
You pushed yourself off the bed and stumbled away. “I just remembered something—thanks for the massage.”
Ryland watched as you scurried out of the dormitory, eyeing the way you cupped a hand over the back of your neck. Rocky seemed to deflate at your escape, dropping to his knees as he whined.
“No work.”
“I guess not.”
Plan Failed(?).
You sat in the pilot's chair in the cockpit and stared at the multitude of screens around you. The answer to your problem had to be here. Though, if you were honest, that wasn’t the only problem you were facing. Ryland and Rocky were acting very weird, like more weird than usual. Maybe they thought you were mad at them and were trying to make it up to you. Which wasn’t the case at all. You weren’t mad at them.
But thinking back, you realized you weren’t exactly the nicest towards them. You had kicked Rocky and shoved Ryland after they had both bumped into you by accident. You knew they didn’t mean it. You were just so frustrated with the ship that you let your emotions cloud your judgement.
Cupping your hands over your face you finally understood how rude you had been. You acted like such an asshole all because you couldn’t keep yourself in check. God, you had to apologize before you ruined your only source of friendship in this vacuum of space.
As you chewed on your finger contemplating how to approach them, a timid voice called out your name. You spun around in the pilot’s chair.
Ryland stood at the entrance of the cockpit, bracing against the edge of it. “Hey, can we talk?”
Your stomach plummeted. “Oh—um, sure, I guess.” Fuck you were not ready for this. You hated to admit it but you were bad at confrontation, especially admitting when you were wrong. But so was Ryland, so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.
Ryland walked closer and you saw Rocky behind his legs, crawling cautiously. He stopped about a foot away and you fidgeted in the chair.
“I— we, noticed you’ve been really stressed out about the whole spin drive thing and we realized we haven’t really been much help. We’re sorry. If there’s anything you need us to do, please tell us. Even if it’s something small, anything to lift the weight off your shoulders,” Ryland spoke softly, gesturing to both him and Rocky.
The Eridian nodded in agreement. “Rocky help. Need make friend happy, less stressed, else bad things.”
Oh. They were worried about you. And here you were acting like a complete piece of shit because you couldn’t ask for help. You lowered your head in shame. “You don’t have to apologize. I shouldn’t have taken out my frustrations on you.” You scrubbed your hands over your face. “I acted like a total dick because I wanted to solve the problem myself and not drag you into it.”
A pair of hands wrapped around your wrists and pulled yours away from your face. You felt a gentle pat on your knee and looked up. “Don’t be silly. We know you didn’t mean it. We’re glad you at least recognized your faults as we did ours. That’s all that matters. We can work out the problem together.” Ryland flashed you an empathetic smile, his expression soft and full of understanding.
Your eyes flickered between Ryland and Rocky before letting out a sigh of relief. “Yeah, thanks. I’m sorry about earlier,” you murmured. “I’ll make it up to you guys.”
Ryland and Rocky looked back at each other then faced back at you. “How about we just continue that massage. You really look like you need it.” You swallowed. You didn’t want to turn them down but…
“Uh— okay.” If making it up to them meant kissing your dignity goodbye, then so be it.
All three of you headed back to the dormitory. Your bed was made and prepped prior, the snacks still stationed on the floor. Ryland gestured for you to lie down. You hesitated. You can do this. You took a deep breath, and then laid face down. You curled your arms around the pillow, propping your chin up.
“You really don’t have to. I swear I’m feeling better,” you said as a last ditch effort to avoid future embarrassment.
Ryland waved a hand in dismissal and climbed on top of you, sitting on the back of your thighs. “Massages are the best way to relieve tension both in your mind and body. Just let us do all the work and you just lay there.”
“Yes, Rocky give best massage!” You saw Rocky out of your peripheral standing next to your legs.
“Okay…”
You braced yourself, squeezing the pillow tight as you pressed your face into it. Ryland hands went to work, kneading and rubbing along your shoulder blades. It would’ve felt great, had it not tickled unbearably so. You had to hold your breath from the way his thumbs dug into that small part of your lower back. He slowly continued the circling motions upwards, making sure to rub into the spaces between your ribs. Even the gentle prodding at your thigh from Rocky’s claw through his xenonite ball sent ticklish jolts through you.
“You okay?” Ryland’s voice rang in your ears.
“Hm?” You managed to mumble out without your voice cracking.
“You’re pretty tense. Does it hurt?” His fingers lightened the pressure and you’re not sure if that made it better or worse.
“Um—on second thought, I don’t think it’s working. Let’s stop hERE—!” A squeal ripped from your throat at the sudden fingers digging into your sides. “WAhait!!”
Ryland had the biggest grin on his face as he watched you flop around. “I knew it. This is why you ran away so fast earlier. You’re ticklish.”
Your face burned red. “N-not truhue!”
“Oh really? Then I guess you won’t mind if I continue.”
“Nonono don’t you dare— GRAHACE!!”
You flailed helplessly under his weight as he resumed his attack. His hands clawed up down your torso, his thumbs pressing deep into the bottom of your ribs while the rest of his fingers dug into your sides. You twisted and tried to push yourself up but Ryland was too heavy for you to be able to buck off.
“Grace? Man, you’re still grumpy. It’s okay, we can fix that.” You could practically hear that shiteating grin of his.
Every time you lifted off the mattress, his hands would sneak to your stomach, scribble along the plush skin around your waist and you would drop right back down. He even tugged the back of your shirt up and would skitter his nails from your hips all the way to your armpits.
You squealed and cackled and wailed, making the most inhumane noises Ryland had ever heard. “If anyone heard you they’d think there was some kind of space monster wrecking havoc on the galaxy.”
“Friend sound like thing that eat Eridians,” Rocky’s voice chimed in through your laughter. You had forgotten about him for a second.
“ROHockyhy!! H-hehelp!” You pleaded, twisting on the bed.
“Yeah, buddy, you should help. The legs and feet are good tickle spots on people too. Just watch.” Ryland demonstrated it by reaching behind him and rapidly squeezing along the back of your thigh. You screeched, almost kicking him in the face when he scratched at the back of your knees.
Rocky chirped excitedly at the newfound information. “Rocky tickle!”
“Rohocky nOho!”
“Rocky yes!” Ryland laughed. He turned around to hold down your legs for Rocky to get a chance at tickling you, pinning your ankles against the mattress.
Rocky couldn’t do much but gently wiggle his claws through the xenonite barrier against your sole. It didn’t tickle that much but the featherlight touch was enough to make you giggle into the pillow, your toes scrunching up. It only lasted a couple seconds before Ryland decided to tickle the back of your knees causing you to shriek.
“GRACE!”
“What? I’m helping.”
“Stohop hehelpihing!”
Ryland gasped. “You don’t want me to help? That’s not very nice! And here I am trying my very best to make sure you’re relaxed and at ease!” Despite the fact he was doing the complete opposite.
“Ihi don’t nehehed ihit!!” You barked out through gritted teeth.
You heard him click his tongue and the tickling on your legs stopped. You wheezed in relief, panting heavily to catch your breath. And then you felt the shift of weight back on your thighs, large hands settling flat on your back. Fuck, fuck, shit.
“N-no, no, wait— Ryland—Ry, cmon! I-I’m relaxed! Please!” You begged, clawing at the mattress desperately. Sadly for you, your pleading words went straight over his head.
His thumbs rubbed deep circles on both sides of your spine, just below your shoulder blades. His other fingers curled into the spaces between your ribs, alternating between massaging and wiggling. You just about lost it. Loud, hysterical cackles resonated from your lungs at the electrifying tissue massage that set your nerves on fire. You couldn’t think about anything else but how badly it tickled.
What felt like an hour was only a two minutes of pure tickle torture. You couldn’t move, your whole body went rigid, stuck in a perpetual state of silent laughter. Your eyes squeezed shut, mouth wide open with no sound coming out.
Eventually Ryland gave mercy and lightened his touch. The pads of his fingers now tracing small circles over your sides. You almost forgot how to breathe when you gasped for air, greedily gulping it down.
“What do we say now?” His voice murmured right into your ear.
You snickered and scrunched your shoulder. “Ihi’m sohorryyy…!”
He chuckled in response. “And?” He lightly dug his thumb into your back.
“THAhank yohou!!” You squealed.
The tickling stopped and you finally—finallyyy were given relief. Your nerves buzzed from the aftermath, tingling and trembling at the phantom tickles. You giggled tiredly, face squished against the mattress. You didn’t even notice your pillow had fallen off the edge of the cot.
“Feeling better?” Ryland asked, his tone softer and genuine.
You nodded, still giggling. He laughed at your delirious state and helped roll you over onto your back. You couldn’t stop the smile permanently stretched across your face and swung an arm to hide your flushed expression.
“That was ahawful…” You breathed out.
“You say that, but I know you enjoyed yourself. You needed that laugh.”
You peeked beneath your arm to see Ryland’s dazzling smile, his eyes filled with so much warmth you couldn’t help but feel shy from his attention. Your hands flew down to your face, feeling the heat radiate off your cheeks. “… it helped.”
“Humans done playing? Question. Rocky fix ship.”
Ryland and you looked up at Rocky now standing by the hatch of the dormitory. You lifted your head, propping yourself up on your elbows. “What do you mean?”
“Rocky fix spin drives. Statement. Works.”
You nearly shoved Ryland off of you as you sat up fully. “What?! How?!”
Rocky shimmied in his ball and straightened his legs like he was showing off. “Rocky read manual!”
You just stared at him. He squeaked happily before rolling away. Ryland and you looked at each other. You flopped back down on the mattress with a groan, pulling down at your face.
“A rock figured it out before me.” You glanced up at Ryland. “… sorry again.” Now you felt worse about how you acted when there was such a simple solution.
Ryland huffed. “You’ve already been forgiven. Don’t get all depresso on me.” He tweaked your side with a pinch and you let out your own little squeak, swatting at his hand. He grinned. “Besides, now I know exactly what to do to turn that frown upside down.”
A blush rose to your cheeks and you shoved weakly at his chest. “You’re never letting me live this down.”
synopsis: you’ve been lacking sleep so much that you have eye-bags the size of planets. ryland is determined to get you to bed even if it means using force. lucky for him, he finds an easy way to convince you.
warnings: this is a tickle fic — no use of y/n, no specified gender, just silly tickles because you’re being bad. ryland is the biggest tease and it’s unfair.
author’s note: i banged this out in like two days. this is also like my first official tickle fic in a long long time. it’s also near 3 am posting this—ryland grace where are you
word count: 2.7k
Ryland was starting to notice something about you. The days on the Hail Mary were typically long ones considering neither of you really went to bed at a regular hour. The synchronized clocks on the ship often went unnoticed as there was constantly something new to figure out about the mission. While Ryland was guilty of having a terrible sleep schedule, he couldn’t help but frown at the sight of you hunched over the lab table late into the night.
He saw the dark circles sagging beneath your eyes and each day they seemed to get more prominent. If he had to think about it, he didn’t really see you sleep that often, aside from a small nap here and there but naps weren’t enough compared to the full eight hours required to have a restful night.
Ryland could probably count the amount of hours you’ve slept on a single hand, and tonight was no different. He found you sitting at the lab table once again, scribbling down complex math equations.
“You should head to bed. You’ve been hunched over that notebook for hours,” Ryland said, standing by the archway between the corridor and laboratory.
“I will soon,” You mumbled. You didn’t even bother looking up from what you were doing.
Ryland wasn’t going to take that as an answer. He walked over, hands in his pockets as he stopped right next to you. You saw him from your peripheral and looked up.
The blueish tint of skin under your eyes formed near semicircles and the way you squinted up at him made them stand out even more. He frowned. “Your eyebags are worsening.”
You slowly blinked. “It’s fine. They’ll go away after some rest.” But he knew that some rest to you was just a thirty-minute nap at best.
Ryland crossed his arms. “When was the last time you slept more than two hours?”
There was a long pause. You stared at him before your gaze started to drift off to the side. Your lips screwed up in shapes, trying to mentally count and remember when you last properly slept.
“Uh…two…no…fffo—fi—er…” You had to resort to using your fingers to count. Ryland watched as you recounted over and over, bending your fingers up and down.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. You couldn’t even remember when you last slept a full night!
“Some time ago,” You said as if that was a solid conclusion.
“You think?” He responded in exasperation. “Okay, put the pencil down, we’re going to bed right now.”
“Huh? But I’m not done—“
“You can finish tomorrow. After a good night’s sleep. And I mean the full eight hour sleep. Not a two hour nap.” Ryland was going to make sure you go to bed no matter the cost. But you were not one to make things easy.
You stared at him. “No.”
His eyebrows raised. “Excuse me?”
“I said, no.” Oh you were in big trouble.
Ryland heaved a sigh through his nose. He gave you a look, the one you assumed he gave his students when they had been disruptive or said something inappropriate. You weren’t backing down. Not without a fight.
“I’m going to count to three. And if you don’t get up and walk yourself to bed, I will drag you there myself,” he said.
You didn’t break eye contact. “I dare you.”
It was like a stand off between the two of you. Ryland stood there, his arms now lowered to his sides. You remained seated on the stool. No one moved from their spots.
“One…”
You kept staring at Ryland.
“Two…”
His hands flexed.
“… two and a half…”
At this point, you turned around and went back to completing the equations. Ryland was flabbergasted by your dismissal. That always worked on the kids! They would immediately apologize after. Or if they decided to be a little snarky, he’d tell them he had to call their parents. Or tell them they would have to stay after school. That would shut them up real fast. Unfortunately, neither option was possible in this situation.
“I mean it! I’ll drag you to bed and tie you to it!” He sounded a bit more desperate, waving his arms around.
“Kinky.” Was all you said back.
That made Ryland blush red, either from frustration or the insinuation, he wasn’t sure but what he did know was that you were more stubborn than any student he’s ever dealt with.
“That does it…” He muttered under his breath. “You wanna play hardball, then I’ll play it your way.”
Ryland stepped up behind you, wrapped his arms around your middle, and pulled. It would’ve worked had you not already been gripping at the table. Ryland was a strong man, the muscles he gained during the coma were not just for show, but even he struggled trying to yank you away from the table. You had the death grip of an infant!
“Let! Go!” He huffed between each pull.
“No!” You hissed back. You even went as far as hooking your feet around the bolted legs of the stool.
His grip around you was starting to slip so he readjusted, his hands clawing into your sides to get a better grasp. Though the sudden squeak that tumbled out of your mouth startled him so much he almost let go out of reflex, worried he had hurt you.
“Shoot, did that hurt?” Ryland asked, trying to peek over your shoulder to see your face.
One of your hands had let go of the table and was slapped over your mouth. You didn’t say anything in response to Ryland’s worries, afraid that if you did, you would expose yourself right then and there. Ryland’s hands squeezed gently at your sides again, testing to see if you were hurt anywhere and if he may have agitated a bruise or something.
You flinched, folding in on yourself. Your hand was pressed against your mouth to muffle another squeak. Ryland was still very much confused by your reaction. You weren’t yelping or hitting him in distress or pain so you didn’t seem to be hurt. He squinted. The tips of your ears were red and he saw some color dust across your cheeks that were raised, as if you were smiling. He was slowly putting the pieces together.
“Wait… are you…?” Ryland whispered.
Oh no.
You shook your head before he could even finish. Ryland grinned. “Oh, you are.”
You weren’t even given a countdown this time before his fingers began wiggling into your sides. They pinched and squeezed through your clothes. Unfortunately for you, you were only wearing a thin graphic t-shirt and baggy sweats. Wearing the corduroy jumpsuit had felt too restrictive so you opted for looser and more comfortable clothing. You regret your decision now.
Your whole body folded in on itself as you twisted in Ryland’s arms. He kept one arm wrapped around your chest and used that hand to scribble underneath your exposed armpit while the other one sneakily slipped under the hem of your shirt, dragging his nails across the waistline of your pants.
You snorted, desperately trying to fight back the giggles and squeals that threatened to spill. Your free hand slapped Ryland's arm repeatedly, but he was unphased.
“Aw, what’s the matter? You did this to yourself. You could make it all stop if you just, let go.” He cooed right next to your ear. You shook your head. “No? Then I guess I’ll keep going until you change your mind.”
The hand underneath your arm shifted just a bit higher, moving up to get to the underside of your bicep. He tugged lightly at the short sleeve, worming his fingers through the opening to tease the sensitive hollow. You flapped your arm helplessly, but you couldn’t exactly squeeze it down since you were still holding onto the table.
“Snrt!” Another snort slipped out, followed by a few giggles bubbling up your throat. Your eyes were squeezed shut, brows furrowed as your lips twisted to hold back your laughter.
“C’mooon, you can’t fight it forever. I’ll just keep tickling you until you can’t take it anymore,” Ryland teased. He even went as far as rubbing his slightly grown out stubble against your neck while he danced his fingers around your stomach.
You couldn’t hold it in anymore. Your face was near red as a tomato, cheeks comically blown up before you broke. “BWAHA NO—!” You shrieked. Your hand slipped from the table, leaving only your legs still hooked around the stool. Your hands slapped and pulled at Ryland’s, anything to relieve the unbearable ticklish sensation spreading across your torso. “Ryhyhy! Stohop ihit!”
Ryland’s face had the biggest grin as he watched you fall apart. He wished he could turn you around and see your expressions though. “See, I knew you could do it! Now we just need those legs loose.”
He leaned forward slightly and clawed at your thigh without remorse, even going between where your thigh meets your hip. You squealed and kicked out, freeing one leg. “Now the other.” He did the same to the other side and you pleaded through your uncontrollable giggles. This was completely unfair!
With one final tug, Ryland had you suspended in his arms like a cat, arms and legs dangling as you caught your breath. You still giggled a little from the tingling sensations. He didn't make a comment about it and simply carried you to the dormitory. Both beds were ready and made thanks to Armando.
He plopped you down on yours, that stupid grin still playing on his lips. “You lost, so now it’s bedtime.”
You grumbled under your breath at his words, crossing your arms. “Cheater.”
Ryland chuckled and ruffled your hair. He grabbed one of the blankets and tossed it over your legs. “Whatever helps you sleep.”
You watched him make his way to the neighboring bunk and settle down on it. The lights of the dormitory dimmed but remained light enough to faintly make out your surroundings and Ryland’s figure just a couple feet away. You reluctantly laid down on the plush mattress.
The minutes ticked by and you still couldn’t fall asleep. You tossed and turned, pulled the blanket over your head, buried your face into the pillow—everything! Nothing was working. You huffed out openly. If you can’t sleep, might as well do something productive. You still have to map out a path towards Tau Ceti-E, calculate the rest of the Astrophage stored in the tanks and draft up a work-in-progress device with Rocky to collect samples of astrophage from the exoplanet. There was so much to do and not enough time.
You laid there in silence for a couple more minutes until your brain was screaming at you to get up and go back to work. Ryland could sleep all he wanted but you had things to do. Tossing the blanket off, you pushed yourself to sit up—and immediately you were shoved back down. You let out a startled gasp, eyes blinking in the low light until you saw the outline of Ryland’s form hovering above you. The glint of his glasses made him look like some kind of villain.
“And where do you think you’re going?” He mumbled, voice slightly gravely.
You gulped. “Uh… the bathroom?”
A few seconds of silence passed. “You are such a bad liar.” And then you felt it.
Ryland’s hands crawled under your shirt and skittered up your sides. You squealed and attempted to curl up but Ryland just pushed you back against the mattress. His fingers clawed along the underside of your back causing you to arch into the air and cackle.
“If not bed time, then tickle time.”
You could barely see anything and that made everything ten times worse. Your hands balled up into fists and pushed at Ryland’s shoulders, your head thrown back as uncontrollable giggles and squeaks filled the dormitory.
“RHylahahand!! No plehease!” You whined.
Ryland just chuckled under his breath. You felt him lean down, his weight holding you in place as you tried to twist and squirm away. His hands just followed every single one of your movements. “Liars get punished. That’s the law.” His thumbs massaged between your ribs while the rest of his fingers scribbled along the back of your ribcage.
Your torso bounced up and down as you wailed out hysterically. Your brain was overwhelmed by the unbearable ticklish sensations electrifying your nerves. Being tickled into absolute oblivion made it impossible for you to listen to any of the nagging voices in your head about going back to work.
All of a sudden Ryland pulled his hands away and raised them in the air above you. You were left giggling and confused as you peeked open your eyes. He grinned down at you, fingers wiggling in a taunt.
“One.”
Oh fuck no.
You tried to buck him off but it was futile.
“Two.”
Giggles bubbled up again, your hands held out in defense to block the upcoming threat. “Nohoho waihit! Waihit plehehease!”
Ryland paused the countdown, a shiteating smirk on his face as he saw you flinch in anticipation.
“Three.”
He dropped his hands down to your hips, his thumbs slotting themselves just below the bones and digging into that sensitive muscle. You jerked beneath, a shrill sound escaping you before you fell into deep laughter.
It was at this point that Ryland noticed you weren’t fighting back as much. One hand tugged weakly at his shirt and the other pressed into your face, half hiding half acting as some form of grounding. It was cute but he wanted to see your expressions.
He pulled your arm away from your face and pinned it above your head and—jesus, did his heart skip a beat at the sight. The dim lighting softened your features, creating an almost halo effect. Your smile was wide, cheeks raised, and flushed, just faintly visible underneath the low light. Your hair was slightly tousled, pieces falling into your face, but he could still see the way your eyes squinted into crescents from how much you were laughing. You were absolutely glowing.
Ryland’s hand eased up on its prodding, now gently tracing along the edges of your hip. Your laughter died down into hiccupy giggles, shimmying when Ryland’s nails teased a bit too inward.
“Plehehease… noho mohohore. I’m tihired…” you whimpered at Ryland, eyes teary with mirth. That wobbly smile of yours made Ryland’s heart tremble.
“Are you sure? Are you tired enough to go to bed? Because I can keep going if you’re not feeling it just yet.” He mused softly. His fingers gave a quick scribble over your hip and you squeaked, a burst of giggles tumbling from your lips. The sound was enough to make Ryland awe audibly.
“Yehes! I aHaham! I’ll go to bed! I will!” You pleaded.
Ryland finally released your wrist and removed his hand from your hip. He chuckled in amusement when you just laid there, breathing heavily and not even bothering to fix your shirt (he did it for you and grinned at the few giggles he got from doing so).
“Fihinally…” you breathed out a heavy sigh, eyes shutting as a wave of drowsiness washed over you.
Ryland could see you were telling the truth about being tired. He went to move off of you but a weak tug on his shirt stopped him. He looked down and saw you looking up at him through lidded eyes. “Stay…” you murmured out.
An arrow struck right at Ryland’s heart. He couldn’t say no to that. The cots were a bit small for two people but Ryland managed by rolling on his side and pulling you in close against his chest. His arm wrapped around your waist and you tangled your legs with his. It was undeniably the warmest and coziest Ryland’s ever felt in his entire life.
He couldn’t help but drag his fingers up your spine as a last minute tickle. You squeaked and giggled, burying your face into his chest. “Ryland!”
He laughed softly. “Sorry, sorry, couldn’t help it. I’m done, I swear.”
The two of you settled in a comfortable snuggle, arms draped over each other, your forehead pressed right against his chest. He realized after a couple minutes that you were already fast asleep. Your lips parted as you breathed out steady puffs of air. His hand cradled the back of your head as his fingers brushed through your soft locks. He gave you a little squeeze.
tags -> ryland grace x gn!reader, chapter series, no use of y/n, no pronouns (might change?), canon-ish, movie adjacent, no beta reader just me and my google docs, dunno how to tag stuff yet i’ll get better
warnings -> mild swearing, rip crew members, mostly a characterization of reader, reader is based off my own concept, i’m very unoriginal, bad jokes?
chapter index: one … two …
author note: I hope you guys like what I wrote 👉👈. I kept rereading it while writing it so I may have gone a little manic lol. I somehow spat this all out in a course of like four days. It will be mostly based from the movie since I haven’t read the book yet. Maybe the later chapters I might reference the book when I get to it.
edit: I changed a couple of minor details after reading some of the book—just for the sake of authenticity.
The first thing that came into view was the night sky. A sea of midnight blue littered with stars that sparkled like fairy lights.
Automatically, your eyes connected invisible lines between them, marking each constellation and naming them without fail. Your fingers traced along those lines you mapped out in the air as though they were physically etched into your brain.
You didn’t look away for a second, eyes permanently glued to the canvas above. Everything felt right in that moment. Calm. Quiet. You reached your hand out with your fingers splayed. You could almost touch it.
And then a sound to the left snapped you out of your trance. You were no longer looking at the night sky, but an entirely different landscape. Men in suits were piling on top of someone. The sight of a yellow raincoat peeked out from underneath it all and you felt something in your chest lurch.
You tried to yell, but not a single sound came out. Thrusting a hand forward, you tried to reach for that familiar coat; a feeling of desperation flooded your mind to the point that you couldn’t think about anything but getting to whoever was wearing it.
But external forces stopped you from getting close. They grabbed at your arms, held you back, and dragged you further away, deaf to the silent pleas you screamed.
Rain began to cloud your vision, the edges darkening the farther you were pulled away. You felt a searing pain fill your throat and you let out one final cry before the scene in front of you blipped off like a tv.
.✦ ݁˖
“kHhh-coff! hucK!”
A wet, disgusting cough violently shook your senses awake, the sound vibrating and burning in your throat as more fluid bubbled up from your esophagus. You didn’t even realize your eyes were closed until you felt them peel open and a hazy shape came into view. It took a couple seconds of blinking and spitting up more fluid for your vision to clear up. The first thing you noticed was the blue endotracheal tube dripping from above followed by your first thought being—ew.
You had zero recollection about anything: who you were, where you were, and why the hell were tied to this thing.
In the midst of you trying to process just about everything, a feminine robotic voice rang in your ears.
“What is two plus two?”
You twisted your head around, looking for where the voice came from. It repeated its question.
“What is two plus two?”
It was then that you realized it was coming from the creepy mechanical arm thing above you that near choked you to death from removing the tube.
“Ffff…” A rasp wheezed from your throat and the arm stilled, waiting for your answer. “...fuck.”
“Incorrect. What is two plus two?” The voice continued to prattle on about other things that you couldn’t quite focus on. The words coma and memory loss stood out the most, but you were kind of busy trying to evade the metal pinchers poking at your face to think about them.
“Ugh…! Four!” You groaned out, hoping that answer would stop this crazy machine.
“Correct. What does E = mc² stand for?”
Bullshit. You couldn’t stand this probing any longer and thrashed in your restraints. The answer to the question popped into your head clear as day, but your voice was equivalent to a seventy-year-old smoker right now and you had zero fucks to give about answering trivia in your current predicament.
You somehow found yourself on the floor, free—more or less—from the constraints of the table. You managed to wriggle yourself out of the prison colored body bag, feeling like a wet slug rather than a beautiful butterfly escaping its cocoon.
With legs shaking as much as a new born fawn, you took slow, careful steps through the padded room you woke up in. A very imposing ladder was bolted to the side with bunk beds extending from another wall. You climbed with what little strength you had and as you climbed past the beds, you looked over your shoulder to see if anyone was in those beds. There was. Or well, were. You stared at the sickly pale skin of what you assumed were your crewmates. The two words were at the tip of your tongue, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to say them.
You struggled for a moment to twist the hatch open, a thought passing in your mind that you needed to do more shoulder presses. At least you know your sense of humor wasn’t forgotten. The hatch finally opened with a wheezing grunt and dropped inward, almost knocking you off the ladder. From an outside perspective, you probably looked like the girl from that ring movie crawling up from god knows where. Your body hunched over the now horizontal flooring and you took a much needed breather before moving on.
Your eyes shifted around the whole interior, walls lined with cabinets and ventilation and other equipment that seemed vaguely familiar to you. You waddled from hall to hall, stopping every so often as more and more things were coming back to you. This was probably the memory loss you recalled hearing from the machine.
You paused for a second during your little exploration, the sight of a tall whiteboard catching your attention. Red and blue writing was scribbled across it, listing… you weren’t quite sure what you were reading.
Science Teacher
Bay Area
Single?
Always Muscles??
Friends?
𝒢𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝒶𝓉 𝒞𝓊𝓇𝓈𝒾𝓋𝑒?
Carl… (Foggy)
Glasses
- OK w/Cilantro
How did I get here??
There were multiple things you could’ve commented on, but the most important thing right now was the fact that you were not alone. Someone was still alive. Who it could be, you have no idea. You couldn’t even remember your own name. The more you tried to think about it, the more your head throbbed, like a lemon juicer squeezing your brain for hidden information.
You shake your head. Oh well. Surely it’ll come back to you.
At both ends of the hallway was a cupola window. From a distance, it appeared to be night time with the blackened sky from where you could see. But as you walked closer you noticed it wasn’t the night sky at all. Stars. They were everywhere. From top to bottom and all around. You recognized each one. The only problem was, you shouldn’t have been able to see them.
“Centaurus… Octans… No, they’re way too south to be seen from where we are…” You whispered, the heat of your breath fogging the glass. You reached a hand out to wipe the surface. But where exactly were you?
A sudden flash of white invaded your vision. Fuzzy pictures projected themselves into your mind like a sputtering film reel trying to fix itself.
You saw … yourself.
Standing.
Gazing at… something.
A sky? You saw stars.
And then there were people.
They were strangers to you and yet so familiar.
A woman’s face bubbled up from the depths.
She wore such a solemn expression.
Another flash of colors blinded you.
A mess of blond hair paired with soft steel blue eyes. The way the light was reflected made it apparent they wore glasses. The person’s face was blurry, but for some reason …
You could almost imagine an awkward smile peeking out from their hazy visage.
…
The shuffle of shoes echoed around the empty space of the planetarium. Squeaks from sneakers and the taps of heels almost made for a calming metronome. You watched as the group of teenagers and respective chaperones entered the dome theater, filling the seats slowly. You could tell how the students separated themselves into their cliques, flocking like birds that had already decided who was at the top of the hierarchy and who was considered lesser. Your eyes shifted to one particular student that sat alone at the front semi circle.
“Welcome, everyone, to the Samuel Oschin Planetarium theater. I’m sure you’re all buzzing in your seats to explore the rest of the building. But first, we’ll be starting off with a little introductory preview. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the magic … of space.” You recited your usual welcome speech, doing your best customer service voice.
To be quite frank, you weren’t very social. You would rather sit in a room full of rocks than talk to another human being. But just like everything else in the world, you adapted. You learned to talk without really thinking about what you were saying and pretending to listen to others when you didn’t really want to. Regardless, working at the planetarium allowed you the chance to view the stars near 24/7.
Now if anyone ever found out you had a PhD in this field of study, they probably would’ve gone on and on asking about why you didn't go work for NASA. The funny thing was you were actually offered a full time position there along with a generous sign-on bonus. The not so funny thing was that you turned them down … while also calling them pretentious space rats acting like they owned the moon.
The 4k projection of Earth’s solar system danced along the ceiling of the dome, the narration playing in pace as the planets orbited above the students’ heads. You had watched this presentation to the point you could probably recite the entire script while describing everything in such detail a blind person would think they could see it.
“I hope watching this made you a little more interested in the universe we live in. Any questions?” You asked as the theater lights flickered back on once the video ended.
The students glanced around at each other, heads turning like owls. One raised their hand. “Can you tell us what the Petrova Line is?”
Oh. Hard-ball right at the start. You turned to look at the chaperones, silently asking if it was okay to answer. They all gave indifferent shrugs. Useless. Well, it was your job, in a sense, to educate.
“The Petrova Line,” You began with a sigh. “Is a streak of infrared light reaching between the Sun and Venus. It was discovered at Russia's Pulkovo Observatory by Dr. Irina Petrova. Hence the name.”
Another hand raised. “Is it really eating the sun?”
Damn these kids and their hungry-gossip little minds.
“Eating requires a mouth of some sort. So I wouldn’t say that,” You said.
“My uncle who’s a scientist said that the Sun is losing its light. Is that bad?”
You opened your mouth, then closed it, and opened it again. “If it was… by a marginal amount. Perhaps.”
“I heard from my little brother that his teacher said it could drop to about ten to fifteen degrees cooler.”
“That sounds bad.”
You had to bite your tongue from saying any unnecessary comments. Whoever this teacher was, really needed a smack on the head.
“Are we going to die?” And here comes the overly dramatic dying question.
“No, no, no,” You waved your hands around. “We are not going to die. They said the same thing back in 2012 and look at us now. Still alive.”
Eventually the chaperones decided it was enough world ending questions and rounded the students up to leave the theater. You waved goodbye as they continued on with their tour, but paused when you noticed that same lone student turned back to look at you. You tilted your head as they shuffled back over. Their head was lowered, only lifting it slightly to glance at you for a quick second.
“Is there really no way to save the sun?” They asked. Their hands fidgeted with the hem of their shirt. You could hear the timid fear in their voice. Honestly, you wanted to tell them they have nothing to worry about and that they should just continue on without thinking about it. But that just didn’t seem fair when it was their future at stake.
Letting out a slow exhale, you pulled out a small ball-shaped beanbag colored as the earth. They were small souvenirs the planetarium sold. You held it out to the student.
“We’ll find a way. We always do,” You said, your tone gentle with as much sincerity you could muster. “I bet you the government is already half-way to finding a solution as we speak.”
Sometimes you wonder if speaking things into existence really did make them come true.
…
The dome theater was currently empty. No shows were playing, no tours were coming, you finally had it all to yourself. Just as you were gazing up at the northern constellations from the projection, a voice called out to you. Title and all.
You tilted your head in the direction of the voice. A woman stood near the entrance of the theater, approaching you with an aura of intensity. You noted her appearance: strawberry blonde hair that framed her face, a high turtle neck paired with a trench coat, and a large purse hanging from her forearm. As she got closer, you saw the prominent age lines in her expression.
“… Who’s asking?” You asked with hesitation. Aside from the owner of this building, no one else should know of your title and experience. You prayed it wasn’t some sort of stalker.
Unlike you, she didn’t miss a beat with her introduction, the slight East German accent coming through. “My name is Eva Stratt. I am the Head of the Petrova Taskforce.”
Petrova Taskforce. That should’ve set off warning bells immediately, but instead you sat there, curious why someone of her position was coming to someone like you.
“I’ve always wanted to meet the person who said NASA was full of ‘pretentious space rats’, and that you had ‘better things to do than pest control’.”
Ouch. That came out of nowhere.
You pursed your lips, shifting your gaze back to the stars. “So are you just here as a reminder that I lost the one good thing that could’ve happened to me? I don’t regret it, I’ll tell you that. I’ve seen monkeys solve problems faster than them.”
“I’m here to remind you that you have a doctorate in Astronomy with two masters in astrophysics and astrobiology,” She said with as much seriousness as when she was introducing herself.
“Technically,” You butted in, wagging a finger in the air, “I'm just an astrophysicist when I don’t want to talk to people and an astronomer when I do. And 99% of the time, I’m an astrophysicist.”
You could almost feel her roll her eyes at you. “Well, that 1% of you better be prepared. Because I have a life-threatening offer.”
You turned your head back towards her. “How life-threatening are we talking about.”
“A one-way ticket into outer space with no return.” Nothing in her expression made it seem like a joke. “But at least you’ll be recognized as a hero for the rest of time.”
“Time is just a concept.” You looked away again, but kept her within your peripheral. “Why are you asking me of all people? Surely there’s others. Do you take me as someone so eager to throw away their life?”
Stratt gave you a look, her eyebrow raised as if questioning your attitude. “Do you really need me to answer that?”
Okay she’s got you there. You took a couple seconds to ponder the thought, staring back up at the constellations as they slowly rotated on the ceiling. You looked around the theater space before eventually meeting Stratt’s gaze.
“Alright, I’ll bite. When do I start?” You stood up from the cushioned seat and faced her.
“Right now. Welcome aboard Project Hail Mary.”
Stratt held her hand out for a handshake and you returned the favor. Although this was the start to you saving the world, it felt more like a beginning towards an end.
…
A gasp ripped through your throat as you clutched your forehead. You gritted your teeth through the painful remembrance. Memories started to filter in, putting together puzzle pieces that had fallen during your trip.
The Petrova Line.
Project Hail Mary.
Tau Ceti.
Details about the mission you were sent on and the sole purpose of why you were here—the fact that you were 11.912 light years from Earth all came rushing in like a semi-truck in a dream.
With a shaky breath, you opened your eyes back to the starry expanse in front of you. “Astrophage…” The word slipped off your tongue before you could fully comprehend why.
Just as you were sorting through your broken thoughts, you heard the creaking sound of footsteps behind you. You snapped your head around so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. A sharp inhale sucked in through your teeth at who you saw.
A mop of blonde hair, steel blue eyes, crooked opticals—it was him. Your only other living crewmate.
You opened your mouth to say some sort of greeting, but instead what came out was, “Why the fuck are you here?”
.✦ ݁˖
He said his name was Ryland Grace—for some reason hearing that made your brain tingle in a funny way—and he had no idea why he was put on this ship.
You found yourself in the medical bay, shuffling through a soft cubed box that was supposedly your packed belongings—it had your name on it so it must’ve been. Unlike the other boxes, you noticed it hadn’t been tampered with. Perhaps Ryland was holding onto hope that you would wake up. Your eyes shifted towards the man that was facing the corner of the wall, waiting for you to signal you’ve finished changing.
“I’m guessing what you remember from before is no different from what I remember,” You said, zipping up the light blue jumpsuit over your clothes. Your fingers grazed the sewn in patches of your name and branded logos. “We figure out why the Astrophage hasn’t gotten to Tau Ceti yet, save our Sun and in turn, the fate of all of humanity.”
“Pretty much,” Ryland mumbled out.
You turned around to see him rocking on his heels and stared. Were you silently judging him or were you appreciating him? You weren’t exactly sure. But the sight of it made your chest feel weird.
“I’m done.”
He turned his head first, body following in suit after. You didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered down and then back up to your face. “It, uh, suits you.” He gestured with a nod.
You looked down at yourself and then back at him wearing the same exact thing. “Likewise.”
The two of you stood side by side, just below the bunks where the deceased members still rested. Ryland was holding one of the leftover jumpsuits, their names also sewn in patches as a reminder. A look of contrition settling over him. Without speaking, you helped remove them from their casings, being extra careful as you dressed them appropriately. Ryland stood in front of the laid out bodies like an officiant to a funeral, sharing his words of remembrance, or at least the bare minimum of what he could think of in the moment. He tenderly tucked the photographs the two must have brought in their suitcases into their folded hands.
“I wish you were still here,” he said. You could hear the strain in his voice as he tried to keep his emotions in check. “At least, I’m not…”
You met his gaze from the corner of your eye. You didn’t need to hear him finish to know what he was trying to say. I’m not alone.
He cleared his throat. “You were both very loved. You deserve much more than this. I’ll do my best so that you don’t… that you didn’t…” Ryland’s voice cracked just the slightest, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He quickly wiped away the tears that trickled out.
“We’ll do our best,” he managed to say in the end.
One by one, you carried the bodies into the airlock. You didn’t say anything, just stared at their sunken faces before turning around and closing the hatch. Ryland pressed the override button and with a loud hiss and release of mechanics, the outerlock opened. Together, you silently watched their lifeless forms float into the void, drifting further away until they were just specks among the stars.
Neither of you moved. The gentle hiss and puff of coolants being the only other sound filling the silence along with Ryland’s sniffles that he tried to keep quiet. You were the first to break it.
“You don’t even remember them, but you still cry for them,” You murmured out, realizing only a second later that probably came off condescending. “I mean—they knew what they were getting themselves into. It… was… an unfortunate risk.”
Ryland didn’t answer right away and you didn’t rush him. You heard the shaky inhale he took.
“I know,” he breathed out. “But, it’s still sad.”
You felt a little pinch in your chest.
You opened your mouth to speak, but the words got caught in your throat.
tags: ryland grace x gn!reader, chapter series, no use of y/n, no pronouns, canon-ish, movie adjacent, book facts sprinkled in, slow-burn, no beta reader just me and my google docs
warnings: mild swearing, reader is based off my own concept, my unoriginality, bad jokes, inaccurate sciencey things, my lame dialogue, ryland and reader are really awkward and bad at communicating, but they both secretly yearn
chapter index: one … two …
author’s note: this came out really chunky. sorry it took so long. i’m a mega procrastinator and also life kinda sucks rn. i’m half way through the book so i will be sprinkling in more facts and information from the book as like extra tidbits and descriptions. i will most likely do a shift in source reference in the later chapters to make this series more dramatic and longer. for now—enjoy the awkward mess that is ryland and reader. everything written right now is pretty surface level and lore and will dropped eventually.
There were five black cadillac escalades parked in the roundabout in front of the entrance of Griffith Observatory. Men in black suits and earpieces stood in position around the area like they were preparing to capture someone on the run.
You took a deep breath of the autumn breeze, shoulders rising. You exhaled. “So, if I asked you if it really was just ‘an offer’, would you tell me the truth?”
Stratt didn’t even bother to look at you. “No.” Well, a half-truth is still better than a full lie.
You were led to the closest car, door open and ready for you to step foot inside. You stopped just outside of it and stared at the sleek interior detailing. The observatory stood tall behind you and you took one final long look at it.
Complicated emotions swirled deep in your chest. You were never the sentimental type, yet you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for not even saying goodbye. While you weren’t exactly close enough with the rest of your coworkers to call them friends, knowing that they held you with such high regard and respect made it a bit hard to come to terms with.
Though you could also think of it this way. Imagine how lucky they would feel knowing one of their old coworkers saved the world. They could brag about it to all their friends and families. So it wasn’t entirely pitiful.
“Don’t tell me you’re starting to second guess yourself now.” Stratt’s voice pierced through your (un)rational thoughts.
You let out a soft scoff. “I don’t second guess myself.” Then stepped into the car.
“Good to know. If you can put that confidence into familiarizing yourself with everything I’m about to share with you, it’ll save us a lot of time,” she said.
A couple stacks of stapled papers were dropped onto your lap. The stacks were so thick you were amazed the staples even managed to hold them all together without bending. You picked up the first one. ‘The Infection’. Whoever came up with these titles should try writing science-fiction.
“Our sun is not the only star dimming. These space dots that make up the Petrova line spread like spores, infecting others,” Stratt explained, breaking down the many diagrams and massive data on the pages. Luminosity readings of stars across multiple planetary systems were listed in columns. “Except one.” She handed you another set. The title on this one read, Tau Ceti. “It’s the only one within eight light-years of all the others that hasn’t dimmed.” You read the charts.
“If you kept up with the news, you should be aware of the ArcLight probe we sent out to collect live samples from the Petrova Line. My team did some testing, and we were able to determine their elemental composition.” You flipped through the papers leisurely like they were the morning newspaper.
Carbon, oxygen, and hydrogen. How interesting that a waterbased life form was able to survive on the scorching surfaces of these stars. You could practically imagine a certain someone boasting with arrogance had the cells been made of anything else.
“Astrophage? Nice name,” You whistled. “I like it. Y’know, star eater and all.”
“Save the compliments for the one who named it. He was the one who did the testing and figured out how to breed them,” She said. You raised an eyebrow at that. The way she spoke about this guy made it seem like he was the real deal.
“Right, I’ll be sure to do that,” You mumbled, continuing to flip through the papers.
The data was extensive, not always prevalent, but for general research it was methodical. Guess these Petrova Taskforce people were more capable than you thought. The most recent information was less meticulous than the older papers, but it contained the most important facts, seeing as they figured out what astrophage was made of and how it was able to travel from the Sun to Venus.
“They toot to scoot.” You read the little scribbling on the sidelines—something about that felt oddly familiar—shifting your eyes to glance at Stratt. “How streamlined.” You caught the slight twitch in her expression and the corner of your lip curled up when she sighed.
You shimmied in the car’s comfortable leather seats. The papers shuffled from your movement. “So, from what I’ve gathered so far, astrophage acts like some kind of black mold or algae, but on the complete opposite side of the spectrum. It’s clearly taking energy from the sun and converting it into mass in order to travel through interstellar space. The infrared light it emits is basically a form of propulsion.”
Stratt nodded in confirmation. “That’s exactly what we concluded. Impressive.”
You flicked the papers in your hand. “Even a high schooler would know about Big E’s most famous equation.”
“Big E?”
“The father of modern physics? Every physicist's best friend? Albert Einstein, of course,” you said as if it should’ve been obvious. “What is impressive is how efficient the astrophage is at storing all that energy. Even the Sun has barely converted no more than 0.03 percent of its mass into energy—just the tiniest bit could be used to vaporize half a city.” You were starting to go on a bit of a ramble.
Stratt’s hands were folded neatly on top of her lap. You tilted your head up to look at her. It was like you could almost read her thoughts. The possibilities of what something like this could be used for…
“I’m sure you’re aware of that,” you stated, not breaking eye contact.
“Yes. I’m aware. I also realized I forgot to ask—do you happen to get seasick?”
Right. So space wasn’t the only potential danger you had signed up for.
…
At some point you found yourself being strapped inside a fighter jet. A helmet had been shoved onto your head along with what looked like a bulletproof vest into your arms. You were tossed a bottle of pills and immediately looked up at the man who was supposed to be piloting.
“Shouldn’t I be sober for this?” You asked, reading the label of the pill bottle.
“Only if you want to remember puking your guts out,” he laughed, loud and obnoxious. Great.
The beginning part of the flight wasn’t so bad—until the guy decided he wanted to show off some cool tricks he learned in the academy. The world spun in circles and you felt like you were back on the Gravitron from that amusement park you received free tickets for. You could feel your lunch rising up into your hypopharynx before swallowing it back down. By the time you finally landed, you were left with a massive headache. You reminded yourself that G-force was only interesting in theory and never in practice.
Your shoes touched the sweet sacredness of solid ground and you nearly collapsed right there. “Fuuuuuckk…” You wheezed out into the crisp, ocean air, hunching over your knees. The subtle bobbing of the ship didn’t do much to help your case.
“Is yelling really necessary?” You looked up and saw Eva Stratt holding two cups of coffee. You raised a hand for one of them only for her to move them out of reach. “I need both of these.”
You groaned and dropped your hand back down. “Helps release cortisol—balances out adrenaline rush from inertia—ugh… endorphins… and dopamine… feel better.”
“It sure looks like it’s working.” Smartass. “You can rest for a moment. We’re still waiting for someone.”
“Who?”
Stratt didn’t answer as she sipped her coffee and you didn’t have the energy to pester her about it. Eventually, the nausea faded into a dull warmth settling in your diaphragm. You took a deep breath. You no longer felt like vomiting your entire stomach lining out. Didn’t want to make a bad first impression in front of the genius who solved the mystery of the space dots.
A sharp gust of wind blew through the landing zone and nearly knocked you off your wobbly legs. The screech of tires came to a halt and you watched as the man, who you deemed to be the astrophage mastermind, stumbled out of the jet and almost face planted straight into the concrete. The helmet he wore couldn’t keep the wispy strands of blonde from escaping along the sides and the first thing you noticed when he turned around were the bifocals sitting askew on his nose.
While the average citizen may not recognize him, any modern day scientist in the community would remember his face and scoff at his name. You never thought you’d see this man again after that conference in Denmark.
Stratt greeted him right off the bat. “Dr. Grace, how was your flight?” He gave a hearty thumbs up, but you could see the green in his face. “I have someone I want you to meet.”
The two of you came face to face with each other and you noticed his eyes flickering from your shoes to your face. He recognized you. And you recognized him.
“Funny seeing you here,” You said with a jut of your chin, unable to hold back a smirk. “Though, I can’t say I’m surprised.”
He licked his lips nervously before opening his mouth to speak. The sound of a burp should’ve been enough warning for you to step back. You watched, with unblinking eyes, as he curled forward and threw up right on top of your shoes.
And that was how the reunion kicked off between you and Ryland Grace.
.✦ ݁˖
It had been roughly forty-eight hours since you sent off your deceased companions into the cosmos. Neither you nor Ryland had spoken much to each other.
You had assumed Ryland would’ve stayed by your side like some lost puppy, considering the type of person he seemed to be. But instead, he spent most of his time in what you dubbed as the Solitary Compliance Room, or what he called the Don’t Go Crazy Room. It was projections of Earth’s sceneries, almost made to be painful reminders of what you left behind. You weren’t sure if you were thankful or concerned about his actions, but you decided not to dwell on it too hard.
You sat in the lab reading a notebook you had found in your labeled belongings box. Unfortunately, it only held the basic information about what you already knew, plus some silly doodles drawn along the edges. You didn’t remember drawing those. Not that you remember much anyway. While flipping through it, you noticed some rips along the inside lining. Did someone rip out the pages? Did you? You frowned. Those pages probably contained important details.
Before you could try poking deeper into your memories, an alarm sounded. One of the computer screens flashed a warning window.
ENGINE CUT OFF. Action Needed.
Mary’s voice echoed through the ship. “Approaching Tau Ceti orbit. Prepare for engine cut off.”
Ryland’s shouts of confusion and panic followed after. The words “Pilot Detected” could be heard in the direction of the cockpit along with his desperate refusals.
You wondered if you should go help him. A part of you found the sound of him struggling a little funny. Just a little. But apparently from what you’ve come to understand, you had a conscience, feeling somewhat guilty every time Ryland holed himself up in the projection room.
Standing up from the stool, you went to make your way towards the cockpit—when suddenly, everything became weightless. Your heart leapt to your throat at the abrupt lack of gravity, the same kind of weightlessness when riding one of those drop towers. Having no chance to prepare yourself, you fell forward, tumbling into somersaults in the air. You managed to grab hold of the table that was luckily bolted to the floor and steadied yourself.
A shriek resonated through the corridor. Ryland. You heaved a sigh and proceeded with making your way to where your distressed crewmate was, pushing off surfaces to propel yourself. In just a couple minutes you floated up into the cockpit and saw Ryland spinning in circles on the pilot’s chair.
“You having fun there?” You asked, amused.
Ryland did not find that funny. He frowned, head whipping around every time he spun in the opposite direction. His hands were frantically grasping at the ceiling trying to stop. “Not helping.”
“Just trying to lighten the mood.” You shrugged. “C’mon, it’s not that hard to move around. It’s like being in water. You’re just—swimming in zero gravity instead.”
Ryland went from clawing at the ceiling to clutching the chair like it was a lifeline. “Those are two very different practices! There is no buoyancy or resistance in zero gravity!”
You rolled your eyes. “Tomato, tomahto.” You opened your arms, gesturing for him to let go of the chair. “Just pretend it’s water. Like floating on the surface. You’re not gonna fall.” The chair eventually slowed to a halt and you watched Ryland’s hesitation. His knuckles were almost white from how tight he had been holding onto it. “Just push off a little.”
He lifted his head to meet your gaze, the clear furrow of his brows showed just how much he was overthinking this. “Okay … okay.” He shifted around on the chair. You waited. Your arms wiggled in a notion for him to hurry up and try.
And try he did. Ryland pushed off from the seat. Hard. He came straight at you like a frisbee, arms flailing. You didn’t have time to grab hold of something to pull yourself out of the way. Ryland’s chest collided with your face. His arms circled around your head followed by his legs latching around your ribs. The force sent both of you spinning like two beyblades stuck together around the control room.
At some point your back hit a wall and you let out a muffled groan at the wind being knocked out of you. Your head was at least cushioned by Ryland’s arms but now you couldn’t breathe from how tight he was holding on.
“Mmv..! Gra…!” You tried to yell, yanking at his arms for him to let go. He seemed to realize neither of you were spinning anymore and loosened his grip. You pulled him back just enough to gasp for air. “Jesus Christ!”
You breathed a sigh of relief and opened your eyes. Ryland was staring right back at you. It took a solid ten seconds for you to process the fact that he was basically straddling you against a wall. You both went rigid.
You were so close you could make out the faint carribean turquoise tint in the color of his irises. Ryland’s glasses had slid down to the tip of his nose and you felt this overwhelming need to push them back up. You lifted a hand up and—
“Petrovascope is now operational. Petrovascope is now operational.”
You slammed your palm against Ryland’s chest. Mary’s voice had startled you out of your trance and your body moved before you could stop yourself. The hard shove sent him flying straight into the viewfinder of the petrovascope.
“Shit! Uh—“ You hoped he wasn’t too mad. If anything it was totally his fault.
“I’m fine—‘m fine,” Ryland muttered out as he situated himself around the petrovascope.
You watched quietly as he maneuvered the device, gradually floating over because you wanted to take a peek too. You made sure to keep some space this time, but close enough to see over his shoulder. Tau Ceti’s blinding light shone through as Ryland panned the scope to the right. He flipped the petrova sensor and a streak of maroon red was visible due to the scope’s built-in mode, set to look for the IR light Astrophage emits. It would’ve been beautiful had you not already remembered the fatality of its existence.
“It has a Petrova line… but it’s not dimming.” Ryland mumbled to himself. He continued to pan the scope, following the line.
Your hands found purchase on his shoulders as you pulled yourself closer, forgetting all about your earlier embarrassment. You squinted, eyes trailing along the red thread. Then you spotted something.
“What’s that?” You tapped at a sudden break in the line. Something was blocking it.
Ryland zoomed in on the gap you pointed out. It was a black mass. The same IR light as the Astrophage flashed behind it like some sort of taillight. The petrova mode made it difficult to see what you were looking at so you reached over to turn it off.
Now looking at the midnight blue void, you could faintly make out a trapezoid shape in the far distance. It didn’t seem to be moving. But they say, if a tornado doesn’t look like it’s moving, that means it’s heading straight for you.
“Blip-A detected.”
Your head shot down to look at the sonar map and right there, less than half a kilometer way, the outline of a foreign vessel blinked. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a shadow pass by the window. This had to be a dream right? Or was it a nightmare?
You pushed yourself off from Ryland and floated towards the window. The structure looked like one of those student architectural assignments just from the sheer skeletal framework. What made it even more fascinating yet horrifying was how monumental it was compared to the Hail Mary. A single hit from that thing could probably smash your tiny ship to smithereens. Ryland accidentally bumped into you from behind but you were both too awestruck by the sight to care.
There was only one way to describe this thrilling discovery.
“Holy fucking shit.”
.✦ ݁˖
So you met an alien. It wasn’t anything like those green little goblins or bulbous headed grey monsters people would imagine. It was just a very large rock. With spider legs. Still, it was much better than whatever those Alien vs Predator movies had anything to show.
The only truth humans had regarding aliens was how intelligent they were. Not only did it understand centrifugal force for artificial gravity, it somehow pressurized the tunnel it constructed between the ships with oxygen. Amazing! And all Ryland did was wave his arms around and pose like an idiot.
You learned that it came from a planet in the 40 Eridani system through a little model it sent in a canister—like a letter in a bottle. Ryland labeled the planet as Erid and called the alien an Eridian. You never imagined your first encounter with aliens would be in a state of survival, but you supposed that was how every sci-fi movie started.
Funny how fate worked like that, bringing together two different species across the galaxy, sent out to find a solution to save their home planets.
For now, you were trying to figure out a standardized method in order to communicate. You were grateful Rocky (courtesy of Ryland and his superb naming skills) was intelligent enough to grasp the bare minimum of what you and Ryland were trying to say, followed by many hand gestures. At least he (Ryland also dubbed it a he) had hands too. Or well… whatever you’d call those things… opposable thumbs?
You watched Rocky turn himself into a mummy with the measuring tape Ryland dropped down into the chamber, wincing at how fast he retracted his hand when a blistering heat whooshed up from the opening. The sheer smell of the ammonia wafting in the air was enough to make you wave your hand to disperse it away from your nose.
Rocky seemed oblivious to your and Ryland’s reactions and let out curious chirps and gurgles that sounded like a mix of a chimpanzee-parrot-whale baby. Strangely endearing for a thing that could probably crush you under his weight.
Ryland was trying to get Rocky’s attention with the analog clock he brought out from the lab.
“I don’t think he can see the numbers.” You pointed out, tapping a finger over the plastic. “Doesn’t even have eyes.” You squinted past the barrier. It was complete darkness.
Ryland pondered the thought before rushing back inside, leaving you alone with the alien. You stared at him. He stared—well, faced—back at you.
“Uh… you come around here often?” You asked. Did this thing understand jokes?
Rocky tilted his head—body? They were the same thing at this point—and started chattering away like he was actually explaining himself and his situation. Your mouth fell open and you debated on stating that you were joking or be polite and listen to his story despite not understanding a single thing.
Luckily, your saving grace (heh) returned and redirected everything back to the clock that he had taped up. The numbers were now elevated to make them stick out. A sort of braille solution for their blind friend. And it led to a small victory for them with the alien scurrying off into the darkness and returning with his own version of a clock. This was the start of a beautiful friendship between mankind and extraterrestrial life.
Ryland came up with the idea to record Rocky’s musical notes and input them as specific words. All they had to do was put the separated words together and bam—a sentence will be made. Ryland holds up the mini microphone towards Rocky who was a bit unnerved by the object.
One by one, the two of you were able to complete a comprehensive list of translations. More often than not, you had to be the designated thesaurus, pointing out the dumb or overly complex words Ryland chose to input into the program. You had a bit of your own fun too—adding generational lingo, which to your surprise, Ryland knew quite a handful. Probably from teaching kids.
“It’s giving…” You typed into the computer.
“Giving what?” Ryland asked. “I never understood that phrase.”
“For real?” A grin flashed across your face. “Highkey kinda sus. Can’t even understand the middle schoolers you taught? Crazy.”
Ryland gave you a side eye, glasses sliding down his nose. “I’ll have you know, they said I always passed the vibe check.”
“You give NPC behavior.”
“What? No way. I give main character energy.”
“Cap.”
Ryland huffed in mild bewilderment. “How the heck do you know all these words?”
“I listen and research,” you said with a small shrug. “You hear a lot of different things when you have kids from primary to high school visiting almost every day.” You remembered googling random words and phrases you heard in passing during your break, even going as far as writing them down for future reference.
“You worked at a planetarium, right? Did you like it?” Ryland asked. That was a sudden change in topic and a somewhat personal question.
“Oh, um… yeah. I did. It was… nice. I got to see the stars a lot. And space,” you mumbled out. “There were lots of sculptures of planets and things.”
Wow you were such a great explainer.
You and Ryland just kind of stared at each other for a couple seconds. Your fingers rested on top of the keyboard. Ryland had been leaning towards you in order to see the screen, but now it felt a bit too close for comfort. Who decided sending two socially awkward adults into space to save the world would be a good idea?
“♫♫♩?”
Rocky’s little jingle broke you out of your staring contest and this time it was Ryland’s turn to pull away first. He tugged the laptop back towards him, gripping the edges and clearing his throat.
“Anyway—names! Why don’t you tell us yours?” Ryland said and pointed the microphone towards Rocky. He hoped he was holding the mic steady enough.
“♬!”
Rocky put his two front arms together and began reciting his name. It was like he was presenting himself to some celestial being with that stance. The waveform on the screen went on for a good six seconds before he finished. You’d hate to write a name that long on government documents.
“You done?” Ryland typed Rocky into the computer. “Now, my name—can’t wait to hear this—is Grace. What’s your word for my name?”
“♩.”
The sound Rocky let out could’ve been interpreted as a burp or a fart. Either way, the look on Ryland’s face had you slapping a hand over your mouth to muffle the snort that slipped out. He shot you a glare.
“I bet your name isn’t any different,” he grumbled, raising the mic again to capture Rocky’s translation for your name.
You coughed into your fist to stifle your snickers. Deep breath in, deep breath out.
The Eridian gave a little chirp, his legs shuffling to make sure you were both listening. He does a wiggle, straightens up, and sings. It was a short melody, about three seconds long, but it was a gentle, low hum and smoothly ascended as if following along a musical scale. The lullabic tune reverberated deep inside your chest.
“Oh now that’s just unfair.” Ryland crossed his arms like a child who had gotten the short end of the stick.
You cracked a small smile.
“Thank you, Rocky. That was beautiful.”
Rocky did a happy jig on his toes and nodded in appreciation. The squeaks he let out seemed to signify his content.
.✦ ݁˖
It was late and you were starting to get a bit sleepy from staying awake for so long. So much had happened in the last thirty-six hours that sleep was the last thing on your mind.
You were quietly nodding off next to Ryland in the set of chairs you found buried in storage. A table was placed as a little workstation for the computer. Ryland kept an eye on you to make sure you didn’t topple over in your half-asleep state.
Rocky noticed and it peaked his curiosity. “♫♩♫♫?” Ryland looked at the computer screen. How many humans on Grace ship, question?
A deep pang pulsed in Ryland’s chest as he thought back to their deceased crewmates. “Oh, um…” He pulled his glasses off and began cleaning them with his shirt. “There were four of us and… two died on the way here.” He slid his glasses back on. “I wish I knew why…” The pain of losing two close comrades still hurt, but at least there was still you. “Now it’s only us two.”
“♬♫♩.”
Only us three.
Ryland smiled. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get the chance to admit it, but he was glad, above all things else, that you had survived with him.
“♩♬♪♬♪.”
We save stars.
.✦ ݁˖
“You’re really bad at this.”
You watched as Ryland fumbled and dropped pieces of the model he and Rocky were making of the star system. You were still a bit groggy from your nap. The bubbly squeaks from Rocky laughing at Ryland’s clumsiness made it all the more better to stay awake though. You glanced at the computer. “Even the rock says you’re bad at it.”
Ryland clicked his tongue and pointed one of the metal wires at you. “I don’t see you offering any help.”
You waved an arm in the air. “You’re the science teacher here. That’s your job.”
Rocky crawled down from the ceiling and hesitantly tapped his fingers together. “♬♬♩♩♪?”
“Hm? Why is a school teacher in space, question?” You read. “Tell him doc,” you said, gesturing to Ryland but Rocky started talking again before he could say anything.
“You know what—“ Ryland grabbed the computer and sat down in a makeshift cubicle in the barrier. “Let’s try this.”
For the next twenty minutes, the two of you shuffled through different text-to-speech voices, trying to find the best one to match Rocky.
“How about Stephen Fry? It’s better than the French one,” you said.
“True, but he’s going to sound like he’s reading an audiobook every time,” Ryland pointed out.
“Hm… fair.”
Some were okay, some were straight bad, and you weren’t sure how appropriate it was to have Rocky sounding like Kevin Heart. In the end, you found it. The perfect voice for Rocky. It had a well-versed tone with a slight awkward and nerdy edge to it.
“I like.” Rocky nodded enthusiastically.
“Alright. And, to answer your question, I have no idea what I’m doing in space. I don’t remember,” Ryland sighed. He looked up from the computer and subtly shifted his gaze towards you.
“Neither of us do,” you added, though it came off a lot more nonchalant on your end.
Rocky thought for a moment. “Is okay. Grace and you find out when you and Grace go home.”
He sounded so positive that after all this, they would be able to return home safe and sound. You would’ve believed him if you weren’t already aware of the outcome.
You pursed your lips. Ryland folded his arms across his chest. “… I’m gonna go to sleep,” he said.
You stood with him in agreement. You could use some actual sleep and not just a power nap.
Rocky moved along the barrier in sync. “Mm… no understand, word.”
“Sleep? Uh, it’s like this—“ Ryland practically slams his face against the table.
“Die?! Died! Died!”
Ryland was quick to reassure Rocky, straightening back up and stretching his arms in the air in a gesture of waking up. “I would’ve thought you died too with how hard you put your head down,” you snickered. Ryland rolled his eyes.
“Anyway, goodnight, sir.”
“Night Rocky,” you yawned, waving a hand.
“I watch grace and you sleep.”
You and Ryland look at each other. “That’s a little weird. No thanks.” You continued to head back towards the airlock, but Rocky sounded quite adamant about watching over you, stating how Eridians watch over each other in their sleep because of danger. You didn’t think much of it at first, after all there were no real predators in space.
Then, the tone of his voice shifted. It dropped into a quiet octave like he was afraid to admit something so vulnerable. You stopped walking.
“Rocky watch crew. Many days. Crew not… wake up.”
He was scared. Lonely. The break in his speech tugged bitterly at your heartstrings. There was no way you could ignore his request now.
Two thin mattresses were squished into the concave cubicle part of the xenonite wall. You and Ryland just barely managed to squeeze yourselves underneath it. While it would’ve been spacious enough for one person, Rocky demanded you sleep next to each other so he could watch the two of you at the same time.
“Is it really necessary for us to be like this…?” You mumbled, fidgeting a bit. “You can watch Grace and I’ll just go sleep inside.” Ryland’s shoulder bumped into yours as you squirmed and you halted your movements.
“No. Rocky need watch two sleep together.” His underside made a loud clunk against the barrier.
Ryland cleared his throat. “Well, I’m more of a side sleeper, but, uh…” You met each other’s gaze. You both looked away.
“… goodnight.”
“Yeah… goodnight.”
…
The clank and clatter of machinery echoed through the renovated hangar on the aircraft carrier. The highest quality of equipment and tech filled the large space from end to end, each one occupied by groups of scientists. It had been roughly six months since you were relocated to live and work on the carrier.
You were placed as one of the leading authorities on the project and Ryland was right up there with you. Despite working in separate departments, you often collaborated due to the nature of your fields. He worked in the biology lab while you worked in navigations partnered with the engineering side. To summarize, you figured out how to get from point a to point b, told the engineers what was needed, got yelled at that it was impossible, and then went to Ryland to make it happen. The typical corporate lifestyle—had the entire project been a real business.
A loud clunk rattled you out of your daze and you bent down to retrieve your drink from the vending machine. The one good thing that came out from this whole relocation thing was being able to experience the respective cuisines and cultures provided for all the workers. Chefs and culinary professionals from all over the world were stationed to prepare meals suitable for each person's preference. It was practically a never-ending buffet that only cost you your life.
You picked up the oi ocha drink and admired the packaging. In addition to the exquisite food, the Japanese government supplied a handful of their popular vending machines, ranging from sodas and heated coffee cans to tasty snacks and small meals. You made it your mission to try every single thing inside every single vending machine.
The bottle cap cracked as you twisted it open. You found a comfortable spot on a bench near one of the entrances of the hangar. You took a sip of the green tea.
Bitter.
How unfortunate. You were hoping for some sugar to keep your energy level up. A pair of footsteps grabbed your attention and you felt a change in weight on the bench. You looked to the side.
Ryland sat down just on the other end of the bench. He was munching on a twizzler, the pack nestled in his hand. You wondered if he even realized you were right there. It wasn’t the first time you guys ended up sharing a lunch break, but he seemed a bit preoccupied with whatever he was thinking about.
Your head dipped slightly, the lip of the bottle tucked between your own, and you subtly stared at Ryland. You decided to use this as a chance to commit his features to memory. Not that you had any reason to. Maybe you just wanted to keep in mind the face of your coworker who you’ll genuinely never see again. You had no one else to remember you by. As sad as it was, Ryland was the only one you considered worth remembering. After all, you knew him longer than anyone else on the ship.
You watched as Ryland raked a hand through his hair. The messy look gave him an unusually charming appearance. You don’t think you could ever imagine him with his hair slicked back. His hand scratched at his slightly grown stubble—probably didn’t have the time to shave lately. You wondered what he’d look like if he’d just let it grow out.
And his glasses… did this man even know how to wear them correctly? It’s like he’s never worn glasses before, despite knowing for a fact that he’s had them for over a decade. But you supposed it wasn’t a terrible thing. The metal frames contrasted perfectly with his blue eyes, making the color pop whenever you made eye contact. Which was right now.
Ryland turned his head in your direction and caught you staring. Shit. Should you look away? Or would that just make you extra guilty? You did the next best (worst) thing. You kept staring.
He looked down and then back up. He held out the pack of twizzlers. “Did you want some?” To your luck—or maybe Ryland was just a bit slow—he seemed to have misunderstood your staring for wanting a twizzler.
You blinked. “Oh, uh—I’m, I’m okay.” You took another sip of your drink and your face soured.
Ryland noticed your expression. He fidgeted with the plastic for a second before pulling a twizzler free and held it towards you. “Here.”
“Huh? You don’t have to—“
“Just take it.”
You stared at the artificially red ropes. “Since you’re offering…” You took it and ripped off a piece between your teeth. Sugary sweetness filled your mouth. This was what you needed. “Thanks…” you mumbled, chewing.
“You can have more.”
“… okay.”
The rest of your break was spent eating twizzlers with Ryland. Neither of you talked much. The rustling waves and ocean breeze became a sort of therapeutic ambiance in the midst of world ending chaos.
…
A demonstration was held for the volunteers meant to board the Hail Mary to showcase the properties and power of Astrophage. Dimitri was setting up the spin drive, explaining how it worked and everything. You already knew the ins and outs of the mechanism, having already been in numerous meetings with Dimitri about its technicalities.
Ryland was standing next to you, clearly anxious. He grabbed a latex glove and blew into it, the material expanding like a balloon. You elbowed him in the side. He winced and rubbed the sore spot with a pout. The group of volunteers just shifted their gazes between the both of you. They all shared a single thought.
You somehow found yourself walking back alongside Ryland and one of the volunteers. His name was Yáo Li-Jie from what you remembered hearing from Stratt. Ryland was saying something, you think he was commending Yáo for his sacrifice.
“You would do the same,” Yáo said.
“I would choose not to go at all,” Ryland replied with a nervous chuckle. That got a laugh out of Yáo. “I don’t have the bravery gene that you all have, trust me.” You’re not sure brave was the correct word in your case.
“It’s not a gene. You just need to find someone to be brave for.”
How heroic, you think to yourself.
The group of volunteers dispersed and you paused in your tracks. You watched as their blue jumpsuits blended in with the rest of the scientists, Yáo’s words echoing in your mind. Find someone to be brave for? Were you even allowed to think that way? You didn’t want to lie to yourself. You weren’t a liar.
You thought back to the kid at the planetarium—the subtle tremble in their voice, their fidgeting hands gripping their shirt. Well, it wouldn’t be entirely dishonest, not really. A half-truth was better than a full lie. Your gaze drifted off to the right. Blue eyes met yours.
Ryland was standing just a few feet away. You didn’t realize he had also stopped walking and now you were both staring at each other. Everything around you seemed to just fade away in that moment.
You just need to find someone to be brave for.
Ba-dum. There was a sudden knock inside your chest. What the hell was that? You placed your hand over the spot. It happened again. Ba-dum, ba-dum. It vibrated against your ribs and traveled up your spine into the base of your skull. You felt short of breath and worst of all—you felt hot, like the Sun had regained everything it lost from the Astrophage.
You stole a glance at Ryland. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, in fact he was turned the other way, so you couldn’t see his face. A part of you wished you could. Another part of you questioned if you were going insane. Unbeknownst to you, Ryland was experiencing the same symptoms.
.✦ ݁˖
Ryland sat with his back pressed against the clear xenonite barrier. He had woken up just a half hour ago and was currently on watch duty.
Rocky was sleeping—er at least what Eridian’s considered sleeping. His entire body was frozen, propped up by the beams of xenonite he made. Ryland understood why his species would watch over each other when sleeping. It was like they were paralyzed, stuck in a state of unconsciousness with no way of waking up in time when danger arose.
He observed Rocky for a couple minutes before his eyes drifted down to your slumbering form. You were still sound asleep, curled up underneath two blankets. One of them was his. Ryland was careful not to wake you when slipping away from the cozy space. It was a bit embarrassing waking up to you curled up against his side. You were warm. He almost had to fight himself from wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer—to keep himself from leaning in and burying his face into that bed head of yours, inhaling the scent of the shampoo you both shared. He must be going crazy thinking such things.
“Mm…”
Ryland held his breath when you stirred. You tugged the blanket higher, bunching the fabric underneath your head and nuzzling into it. An arrow pointed itself straight at Ryland’s heart. He wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t bear to bring himself to wake you. Not with how peaceful you looked.
As much as he wished he had someone to talk to, he was willing to wait.
