Chapter Text
Simon woke up.
There was not a moment of surprise. He had spent many years falling asleep and waking up peacefully in his home, securely wrapped around his husband. He was used to coming awake, safe and comfortable.
Even when one of them had the occasional nightmare, because there was no way to survive what either of them had gone through without permanent scars; they would just curl tighter together and drift back to sleep, content in the knowledge that they would protect each other.
Simon buried his nose into his husband’s greying hair and breathed deeply, enjoying the scent of sanctuary. There was no need to rush starting the day. Grace had his classes of pebbles. Simon had his garden. The dome illumination team was slowly introducing new colors to the morning sky. They all could wait. Simon curled tighter around Ryland and enjoyed the silence.
Their lives weren’t perfect. There was the time Grace had tripped down the stairs to the beach and broke his leg. Simon couldn’t hear him calling for help from the greenhouse, so he had to crawl back to Armando, in pain and alone. Rocky felt guilty for weeks after that for not thinking of a way to allow them to communicate across the dome sooner. There was the time Simon had cut his palm on something in the kitchen while preparing dinner. The blood oozed through his clenched fingers and through his mind. The things his psyche did to him after that hurt worse than having to use his hand while it was healing ever could.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was beautiful, and it was theirs.
They had settled into each other slowly. Neither of them thought it was wise to rush. They carefully grew closer, sharing their fears and hopes, even when it was difficult. Especially when it was difficult. They talked.
Simon fought against the thoughts that Ryland only wanted him because he was the only option. Grace fought against the creeping anxiety that Simon must resent him for forcing them to stay, that he secretly wished he had made any other choice. They fought those fears together.
They had spent one very difficult day early on talking about Grace’s not plans. It ended with them hiking to the edge of the cliff overlooking their ocean hand in hand. Grace threw the gun into the deep where anything that sang a siren’s song belonged. It was a reassurance that no matter how difficult things got, he would stay.
Not long after, Simon surprised him with something he had been planning with Rocky. The Eridian botanists had spliced Simon’s own mutated genes with the cells of the plants that had been growing on Mary. The resulting actual real life tree was planted next to their home, Simon’s own reassuring gesture that he would stay. He had something and someone to stick around and care for.
He had put down roots.
Ryland mumbled nonsense and shuffled around in his sleep, turning to wrap his arms securely around his mate, holding him as firmly as he could.
Simon was trapped, safe in his arms.
Simon was free.