𝐌𝐑. & 𝐌𝐑𝐒. 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄: 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄
part I part II
𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ryland grace & fem!reader
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 after learning that you and grace are married, you both decide to jog your brains in an attempt to remember who you both were as a couple before your memories were tampered with, leading to a recollection of why you're here in the first place.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1.8k
𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i did not expect the last part to be received so well!! low key thought it was ahh so i was ready to sweep it under the rug but nope so here's part two yippieee!
ryland sits on his favourite spinning stool with wheels as you haul over a large white board to prop up against the wall and two white board markers. he does a little twirl in the chair before you toss a marker in his direction.
before he takes it, he spots the marker you're holding.
you glance over your shoulder at him as you get rid of the old equations on the board with a dry eraser. with a sigh, you toss him your pen, giving him the blue while you catch the black from him. he gives you a single exaggerated nod in thanks for the trade.
"alright," you begin, "i know we'll eventually get all of the memories back, but i thought we could try get them faster by coming up with questions for us to think about together that'll help us remember more about this relationship."
you internally panic, then nod. "marriage. right. sorry."
you spin around to the board and write up a heading at the top; 'WHO ARE WE?'. ryland hums in amusement.
you wordlessly jot down underneath: ‘HOW DID WE MEET?’
ryland furrows his eyebrows.
you turn to him with a befuddled look. “what?”
“i remember that one. my school reached out to the hospital and you came in to talk to the kids about what it’s like to be a doctor.”
your writing hand falls limp at your side. the memory hits you in the face.
“why didn’t you tell me?”
“i thought you would’ve remembered!” he contended.
with a sigh, you throw the white board marker across the lab and sit down on the seat across from him. “this is stupid.”
he taps his blue pen on the table’s surface, thinking. then, he decides, “let’s just talk.”
you lift your head from being buried your hands.
“talk. share what we each remember.”
you glance down at the wedding band on his left hand, letting out a deep exhale.
“okay,” he gives a little smile, tossing the beloved blue marker in the same direction as yours. “i’ll go first. i remember you used to pants me whenever i was winning an argument.”
he leans forwards on the table with a sigh.
“yup. i recall one time where you claimed that mercury is the hottest planet. common misconception.”
“it’s the closest to the sun!”
as soon as the argument comes out of your mouth, the memory of this exact conversation rushes in.
it was a sunday night. you were both in the kitchen, ryland making two peppermint teas while you sat on the counter to keep him company. he was reaching into the cupboard for a pair of mugs while responding to your false statement.
‘okay, sweetheart, yes it may be the closest, but mercury just doesn’t have the substantial atmosphere that’s needed in order to contain that much heat.”
‘no. no buts. you’re a doctor, honey. you’re smarter than this.’
with that, you frowned, then suddenly hopped off the counter to tug ryland’s sweatpants down his legs. they fell into a bunch on the floor, leaving him in his plaid boxers.
he didn’t flinch, just looked at you over his shoulder mid-tea pour.
you folded your arms across your chest.
“i did do that didn’t i…” you say after you recall.
ryland catches the look of recognition on your face, eyeing you over the rims of his glasses with an amused smirk.
he pushes his glasses up his nose. you sigh, scratching the back of your neck as you jog your memory. you glance up at him.
“d’you remember how we ended up here together?”
“they…they made me. by force.” he clears his throat at this part, but when he tries to remember where you fit into the equation, he frowns, eyebrows bunching together.
you chuckle, running a palm up your arm as a self-soother. you begin to blush at the memory.
“i was already with you on the boat by that point after you demanded for me to be flown out…” you tease. “when the lab blew up, i didn’t have to be told to know that stratt would put you on the mission,” you say softly before suddenly stopping.
ryland notices the avoidance of eye contact, the glassy eyes and the tense jaw in your expression. he reaches for your hand across the desk and gives your fingers a squeeze, listening carefully.
“i nearly let you go, grace…” you whisper.
you remember his crying, his attempt of running away to god knows where, and the way he pleaded into the dirt when he was held down.
when they were taking him to be put into the induced coma, you were crying alongside him, squeezing his hand and peppering kisses all over his face, saying that it was going to be okay. stratt had convinced you that ryland would be making a courageous sacrifice for the rest of the world, but when you lost grip on his hand and he was taken from you, you approached stratt and seized her by the wrists.
‘let me go with him,’ you sobbed.
she tensed in your grasp, already visibly upset. ‘dr. grace, i am afraid that is not possible-’
‘i’ve been glued to his side practically the entire time,’ you insist, cheeks wet with tears. ‘i know the science—the stars, the astrophage, and like ilyukhina said to him, i can pick up the other stuff as i go along!’
stratt stared at you for what felt like a long time. you knew it wasn’t that simple, but if you could just make her feel like she owed you this.
‘you do understand that you would be giving up your life?’ she asked simply.
you let go of her wrists, your throat bobbed as you swallowed another cry.
‘my husband and i had plans to grow old and die together, stratt.’
your voice wobbled with every word.
‘if we can’t have the old part, at least let us have the dying part. i won’t…’ your throat tightened. inhale. exhale.
‘i won’t let you take him from me,’ you finished.
you knew then as you know now that that sentence wasn’t fair. but, she looked truly sorry.
stratt paused again for a long time, then looked you up and down. ‘you are a physician, yes?’
‘then for the record you will be designated the role of medic for the project hail mary mission.’ she turned to carl who looked like he was still staring in the direction ryland was taken in.
‘officer carl, bring her to the team and explain the situation please.’
carl snapped his head back into your direction, gave stratt a nod, and you a reassuring smile.
before being taken away, you remember flinging your arms around the other woman, squeezing your eyes shut.
she didn’t hug back, but gave an awkward pat on the back. you didn’t see that she had closed her eyes too, embracing the moment.
‘good luck,’ she whispered.
your eyes start to water, ryland’s grip only tightens on your hand. his eyes are widened ever so slightly, lips parted like he has something he wants to say.
your eyes shyly shift back to him.
he can’t peel his eyes away from you. then he clears his throat.
“that- that doesn’t count…if i wasn’t there then that’s technically just one of your own memories,” he tries to jest lightly.
when you don’t laugh, he holds your gaze again, then murmurs, “you’re here because of me.”
it’s not a question. he sounds like he’s processing it. all you do is give a little nod while anxiously chewing on your bottom lip.
“if it weren’t for you, i’d be alone. ilyukhina and yao…they still wouldn’t of woken up. it’d just be me.”
ryland has stood from his seat, letting go of your hand, though his eyes haven’t left you once.
you glance down at you wedding rings. your favourite gemstone standing loud and proud on top of one of the bands. your thumb twists it a little.
“i’m not dying alone because of you.”
you stop. this makes you look up at him. because i love you, is what you want to say, but neither of you are sure how to approach that part of this dynamic just yet. so, ryland makes the first move by circling the table and suddenly scooping you up from your seat into a tight hug.
his chin rests on your shoulder, glasses hanging off his face, eyes squeezed shut. you’re too shocked to process any of it, but you eventually wrap your arms back around him, closing your eyes and melting into his warm embrace.
the security of his arms takes you back—it was a weekday after a particularly gruelling shift at the hospital. you and ryland had plans for a date, maybe the fifth or sixth. he came to your place to pick you up like the gentleman he is so the both of you could walk to the restaurant (he was still too shy to admit that he only owned a bike at this point).
when you opened the door looking just as nice as him, something came over you to see so much effort being put in for little old you. a sob left your throat, ryland panicked and immediately came closer to place his hands on each of your upper-arms. ‘what? what’s wrong? is it the tie? i wasn’t sure about it either to be honest, i just-’
‘no, no, i’m sorry, it’s just been a day…’ you whimper. ryland’s heart cracked open ever so slightly. he had bad days as a middle school teacher, so he couldn’t imagine the amount of stress you’d constantly be under as a doctor.
‘okay…okay, c’mere…’ he spoke softly before gently bringing you into his arms, squeezing tightly. you let yourself cry into his chest, shoulders shaking with each sob. ryland didn’t try to hush you, he just held you, eventually running his fingers through your hair in an attempt to comfort.
that night you ended up ordering takeout despite the reservation he had made. you two lounged on your couch, still dressed up, watching finding nemo.
your head found his shoulder when marlin and dory started bouncing around on the jellyfish.
‘the tie is ugly,’ you muttered. he smiled, then lifted an arm to wrap around your shoulder.
you both pull away from the hug, though ryland’s hands stay firmly planted on your elbows as he looks down at you. you’re both teary-eyed, and you laugh as you push his falling glasses up his nose for him with your index finger. he smiles.
you smile back, and go in for another hug.
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