Chapter Text
Ryland Grace was the only living crew-member on The Hail Mary, a spaceship sent from Earth to Tau Ceti to figure out why this star in particular, one so similar to the one in our sky- was unaffected by the large string of Astrophage coined “The Petrova Line.” He was twelve light years away from home…on a ship that did not have enough fuel to return to Earth.
He befriended an alien whom he named “Rocky”, who was also sent to that very same star to save his own planet from peril.
But despite the constant company, Ryland missed something. There were parts of his life that still haven’t resurfaced after being in a coma for four years. Why did he have so many weird t-shirts? Why could he not remember getting on the ship? And why did a woman constantly show up in his dreams?
The Hail Mary was made to keep morale high. At one point, Ryland thought those touches were generous, a nice thing that the innovators of the ship added to keep the crew-mates entertained. He should have known not to give them that much credit. Things like the very simulation room he was sitting in wasn’t just a cute little addition they made for the fun of it.
It was probably there to keep the crew members from killing themselves.
Nice.
He spent a lot of his time in that room when he first woke up. Granted, all he did in there for the first few days of learning it existed was, well...cry. He cried because he was confused. He cried because he was scared. Hell, he cried because he couldn’t stop crying at some point. Then, he’d laugh. He’d laugh so hard his ribs hurt.
At least he had...literally everything a human could possibly entertain themselves with in the palm of his hand. He could watch anything, read anything, listen to anything, and thanks to whoever came up with this idea, he was never too bored. That was a plus. Boredom would have driven him absolutely bonkers.
Plus, he had Rocky. And now that Rocky was there, the room became more than just a place where he could lose his mind, listen to bands he hadn't listened to since he was a kid, and watch literally every single movie he had ever wanted to see- it was a place where he could teach Rocky all about the planet he called home. Rocky enjoyed it- a lot. Maybe a little too much.
“Grace have mate, question?
Ryland turned to face the alien creature, eyes locked on the spot where he assumed they would have been if he actually had eyes. Eridians didn’t see the way he did. They used soundwaves and vibrations. There were times where Ryland etched poorly drawn eyeballs on the side of Rocky’s ball he used to walk around The Hail Mary. It wasn’t just to be funny. He just wanted to know what it felt like to look into someone else’s eyes again.
He knew Rocky was real- but these poorly drawn attempts at facial features made him feel more human...if that made any sense.
Rocky asked his question again. God, he was persistent. Ryland held his hand up, a force of habit he had from teaching crowded rooms filled with pre-teens. They must’ve not had teachers like him on Erid- because it took a while for Rocky to understand the concept of the ‘one mic’ rule. But things like that took practice. Eventually, Rocky got it. Even he had started to use that on Ryland when he didn't pay attention to the things he was saying.
“I used to. But it didn’t last very long. She said I had my head in the clouds." Ryland leaned back on his elbows and looked up at the makeshift sky inside of the simulation room. "That doesn’t matter though. Now she’s with Mark.” Rocky shook his head. “Rocky hate Mark.” Ryland chuckled and wrapped his arm around the ball. “That was a while ago- way before I started teaching.” He could hear Rocky chittering to himself before his voice rang through the speakers. “No mate after that?”
"Do Eridian's have multiple mates?"
"No. Eridians have one. But movies like "The Notebook" have woman with two mates."
Ryland raised his eyebrows in confusion. "When did you-? We watched The Notebook?"
Rocky chittered again. "Grace always forgets what he watches with Rocky. Grace also always forgets math. Grace bad at math."
He gently nudged the ball and thought for a moment. His memories still weren't in the best shape. Thinking about his life before The Hail Mary always caused him some sort of stress- and from that, he remembered he was a stress-puker. But there was one string of memories he found himself thinking of when he needed a reason to smile.
He had heard her voice in a dream once. Everything started to come back after that. Well, maybe not everything.
"I had a friend… We didn't have-” He took a deep breath. “I could have- but I don’t think I even asked her in the first place. There’s things that are still- jumbled up in here. One second I remember and the next is just, POOF! Gone. I'm remembering a lot more now. Which is good, I guess. I try to write them down when I do.”
When he thought of her at first, he never saw her face. It looked faded, staticky, and scattered the next. But he remembered how she sounded. He remembered her laugh and the way she’d say his name. He remembered how she smelled and how warm she was when he held her. Yet, he couldn't remember the most important thing.
Her name.
Rocky slouched deeper into the ball. If he had eyes (which Ryland knew he had to stop imagining before he drove himself crazy), they'd probably water. If he had eyebrows, they'd furrow in confusion at the same time. "If Grace not ask- why sad, question?
If he had all his thoughts intact, he could tell Rocky their entire story. But he couldn't.
"I can’t remember, Rock. Relationships on Earth are different. They're strange and complicated and they hurt sometimes.” Rocky chirped. “No understanding of human relationships. Do puppet show.” Ryland pinched the bridge of his nose. “For Pete’s sake, Rocky. I’m not doing a puppet show.”
Seeing Rocky make things out of Xenonite never failed to amaze him.
“Okay. This is me and this is-“ Rocky sat.
Ryland moved the puppets back and forth. Each scenario he came up with, he moved one little guy closer and the other a lot further.
“Sometimes you have a mate, but they aren’t really your mate. Or you have a friend that’s basically your mate but you don’t know if they want to be your mate or if they just like you as is.” Ryland mumbled different pieces of gibberish together to try and prove his point.
“Then, you have to factor in the idea that you might not be the mate they want in the first place. Then you end up alone anyway... like you've always been."
Rocky held his little crystal gun (yes, Ryland knew it wasn’t a gun NOW, but it was too similar in shape) out towards the little figures. “Mating for humans is much more difficult than on Erid.” Ryland nodded his head. "You can say that again, pal."
The screens in the simulation room switched from autumn skies to a lush garden at night. Ryland sank his head into his knees and took a deep, shaky breath. After a beat, he heard Rocky speak again.
"When Grace goes home, will Grace find mate and ask?"
And without a second of hesitation, he nodded his head. He knew he wasn't making it home, but if he could- the first thing he'd do was find her. Whether he saved the sun or not, he'd have the rest of his life to spend with her.
But the world wasn't as kind or as forgiving as he wanted it to be. There were no miracles in space. He wouldn't be visited by another giant spacecraft who could get him home in the same amount of time he would need to find her. Even if that was possible (he met Rocky after all), who’s to say she’d be waiting for him when he got back.
Time dilation was a doozy. She’d be a lot older than he’d physically be despite being born around the same time. If she was older- she could have moved on. Maybe she got married. If she got married, they probably had a couple of kids.
Just thinking of that made his heart sink. He needed a distraction...and he needed one quick. Then it hit him. He turned off the simulation in the room and got up on both of his feet. Rocky perked up and already started to walk towards the exit door.
“Alright, come on. We have work to do. The sun isn’t going to save itself.” Rocky b-lined it to the laboratory. Ryland? He took his time.
“Who can tell me the speed of light?”
Every student in that classroom raised their hand. Every single one.
“Jason! You're up!”
An earth-shaped beanbag went flying across the room. Jason, who had underestimated the underhand throw, jumped up from his desk to catch it. Despite almost falling to the ground, the boy held his arm up in victory, proudly shouting the answer (the wrong one at that) out to the class.
The adults in the back of the room watched with curious eyes, trying their best not to laugh at the answer Jason had given. His teacher chuckled, hiding his face with his hands. “Yes, Jason, the speed of light is faster than my bike-” he turned his head towards the group of adults seated in the back of his class. “But on the record- I still do not use training wheels.”
You looked up from your notepad in just enough time for his eyes to meet yours. “Okay! Next question! Any of the adults in the back want to try their hand at “the k is lava”?”
The room of children roared. Ryland tossed it back and forth in his hands while he hissed. “It’s burning me alive! Quick!”
He tossed it in your direction. Without even realizing, you caught it with both hands. “What planet is the farthest from the sun?”
Oh my god. You didn’t remember. This was basic knowledge, a thing you learned in school when you were their age. “Uh-” Ryland chuckled. “I can see it now! It’s burning through your sweater!” The harder you thought, the more the room cheered you on. “Plut- No. Pluto isn’t a planet anymore.” He urged you to keep going. The students all cheered. “Time is almost up! You’re gonna lose the hand!”
“NEPTUNE!”
He raised his arms in the air and congratulated you on the job well done. Without even a second of hesitation, you threw the Earth shaped ball back at him. The students in the room cheered- until the last bell rang.
You knew this school was different from any of the other schools you had interviewed at the second you walked into that building a week ago. It was the whole reason why you said yes to working there. But this very moment- this confirmed everything.
The students placed their materials in their bags. The teacher in the front (who you learned was named Mr. Grace) had called out to them to make a few announcements as they walked out the door. “The science fair is two months away! Now, you all know that's my favorite time of the year. So, tomorrow we're going to be thinking of some ideas. I want everyone here to have at least three questions they want to answer through their research.” The youngsters groaned. Typical. But he didn't seem to mind it one bit.
The large door closed behind them. Ryland turned to the gaggle of adults in his room and threw his hands in his pockets.
“So, did I pass?” the male chimed. Principal Sanders rolled her eyes playfully. “Well, we didn’t have anyone put in their two week notices during your class, so I’d call that a pass in my book.” The small group of adults chuckled along with her, some chuckling a little too hard.
“I just wanted to send them off with an idea of how we work around here. Mr. Grace is a prime example of the kind of educators we want at Grover Cleveland Middle School. He strives to make the classroom a place where students not only learn, but grow into the future leaders of tomorrow.”
You snorted. Not laughed. Snorted. You didn’t know you could even make a noise like that. Ryland placed his palm over his lips and looked away in hopes he didn’t start laughing as well. Your principal shot you both a look.
“Thank you again for letting us sit in for your lessons today, Mr. Grace. I'm sure you made a lasting impression.” Her tone shifted slightly, staring over at the two adults holding their lips together tightly. “There’s some more coffee in the break room for anyone who wants to take some before the day is over. Use this time to talk amongst yourselves! Get to know each other! Welcome to the GCMS team!”
Principal Sanders clasped both her hands together and watched the group for a moment before she exited the room.
While all the teachers gravitated toward one another, you had been standing with the only other ‘non-teacher’ in the hiring pool, the new guidance counselor. “What do we do,” he asked. You shrugged. “Pretend to talk to people and make a run for the coffee after?” He nodded, pretending to take the conversation you two were having a lot more seriously than you imagined.
Ryland pretended not to notice until he saw the way your lips curled. He moved from his desk over to where you were standing. Your new guidance counselor ‘friend’ had already dipped, claiming he’d save you a cup if they were running low.
Ryland didn’t say anything when he stopped in front of you. He wasn’t good at the whole ‘first impression’ thing. He was- awkward. He wasn’t a people person like that. Chris from down the hall? He was. Ryland Grace from 8th grade science? Not a chance.
You looked up at him for a moment and waved. He waved back at you. Then, he cleared his throat. “You okay?” You asked. He nodded. “Just a tickle.” “You should get some water for that-“ you said a little too literally. God, you wanted to smack yourself in the face. Ryland noticed the way your expression changed slightly and instantly felt himself calm down. This was great! You were awkward too!
“Uh, my name is Ryland. I teach 8th grade science-” He looked around the room and smiled while he simultaneously scratched the back of his neck. “Which you knew already because you were listening to me talk for 45 minutes.” Ryland extended his hand out a little too quickly. You took it a little too slow.
This was a mess.
A comforting mess.
“Principal Sanders hates when people laugh at her speeches. I heard she’s been trying to rework that for a year.” You instantly felt a knot in your stomach. “If I’m being honest with you- I don’t think it’s gotten any better. The future of tomorrow thing sounds very-“
“Cheesy?”
Ryland folded his hands in front of his arms and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I can already tell you and I are going to get along great,” he directed toward you. For a moment, it felt like you guys were the only ones in the room.
Well, maybe it was because you two were actually the ones ones still left in the room.
“My name is (Y/N). I’m the new-” “English teacher? Social Studies teacher? Security Guard?” You tried to keep it together, shaking your head at every wrong answer he shouted out.
“I’m the new librarian.”
He mumbled something in between ‘I was going to say that next’ and ‘you took the words out of my mouth.’
“You've got some big shoes to fill. Mrs. Kaiser used to run that place like the Navy. She didn’t have to log a single late return for three months straight. Isn’t that crazy? She was a tough woman- didn’t like me very much.”
Even you have to admit that it was pretty impressive. Misplacing and returning things late when you were in middle school was a given. Your parents said that if your head wasn’t attached to your body you would have probably lost it too.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to live up to those standards,” you said with a small chuckle. Ryland wiped his forehead. “Good,” he repeated a couple of times. “
You watched him grab his jacket and book-bag from his seat. Ryland turned back to you with a smile. “Because I have a habit of returning books late.” You crinkled your nose and shook your head at him. “I thought the students were going to be my biggest problem!” you said back.
Ryland gave her a playful shrug and began to head out the door. You followed, not wanting to be in his classroom unattended. “The kids? No. They’re all angels. It’s the adults you have to watch out for. We teachers aren’t perfect. You know the saying ‘do as I say, not do as I do?’” You nodded. “That’s our golden rule.”
The two of you split down the hall. You walked toward the exit where all the cars were parked. Ryland headed toward the main entrance where his bike was chained up. “That’s my stop,” he said as he pointed over at the door. “I’ll see you next week? I mean, if you take the job. No pressure.” You chuckled. “I’ll see you next week.”
Before he even walked through the door, he got your attention one more time. “I would have given you the point, by the way.” You raised your eyebrow in confusion. “The point?” “For the beanbag is lava. Pluto? Furthest planet from the sun? It’s still a planet to me.” You adjusted your purse on your shoulder, a smile on your face. “Well, thank you for that- on behalf of my favorite planet.”
And when he left, he flashed you a smile you’d never forget.
beep, beep, beep
You got up at an ungodly hour just to get ready for your first day. You were a librarian. Your job was, like your mother once said, cushy. There was nothing you needed to do or worry about. How hard was sitting at a desk and putting away books?
She clearly didn’t see what happened at your last school. A librarian was more than just a bookkeeper. You became someone’s therapist one day, technology guru the next. You ordered every single book under the sun and chased down children to return the ones you desperately needed. GCMS appeared to be different. Maybe your mom was right.
Maybe this job would have the luxury of being cushy.
Your music blasted through your apartment, practically loud enough to wake your neighbors (which you did and apologized for it when you heard your elderly neighbor banging on your door in the middle of your shower).
Getring dressed was a whole other story. That morning, you spent the remaining hour you allowed yourself to spend getting ready for the day picking an outfit.
Your floor looked like a disaster and your closet? Don’t even talk about it.
You threw in a pair of jeans and immediately yanked them off your legs. Jeans we’re too casual but a skirt was too fancy. You could wear a dress, but what if it was too short? Maybe a dress with jeans underneath? No! You were a librarian, not a y2k icon.
Eventually, you settled on the same jeans you threw across your room, a comfy sweater, and a pair of beat up white sneakers you wore to everything. You tied your hair up and eventually let it down while you were in the parking lot. Everything your therapist said to you sessions before started to replay in your head. ‘Just take a deep breath and look forward. Not back.’
You got there way before 1st period. Opening the door, a wave of old book smell smacked you in the face. Ryland was right. This place was- pretty boring. There was no comfort. The library screamed ‘academia,’ not middle school.
There wasn’t much you could do in the time between now and first period, so you did the best that you could. You turned on every computer, opened the windows to let some fresh air in and propped open your door. A few of the teachers came to introduce themselves properly. Janet and Avery were co-teachers for 7th grade English. Chris was the 8th grade math teacher. You could tell they were all in a little clique.
The last person who rushed inside was no one other than Ryland Grace. “Hi, neighbor,” he saluted. You raised your eyes in confusion before you realized he was in the classroom down the hall.
He came back during his first class period of the day- and his second- and his third. Everyone needed a good refresher on what the library was used for, and in a world of technology, it was important to know how to check in and check out books. Yes, physical books.
The 8th graders scattered in the library like loose mice. Ryland, who had stood next to your desk to observe, turned his head toward you. “I never realized how devoid of color this room was before.” You agreed. “I have a couple ideas for the place,” you said enthusiastically. You could see it now. String lights would line the molding in the ceiling, you’d have a fuzzy carpet and little beanbags, and your bulletin board would be the talk of the town.
Ryland clasped his hands together. “I can’t wait to see what you do with the place.”
Three of his students made some very clear demands. You didn’t have enough of this book. One of these authors had a new book come out in the series.
Before you lost your mind, you grabbed a large piece of chart paper and stuck it on the wall along with a few markers. On the top in huge letters you wrote “BOOK REQUESTS”.
“I’m leaving this up for everyone to use. If you know a book or a topic you really want to read, just jot it down. At the end of the week, I’ll bring this to Principal Sanders and see if we can order them, okay?” The room cheered and every single student ran towards the sheet of paper. “One at a time, you redirected. Ryland held his hand up and every single student went quiet.
“Woah! Easy, guys. There’s no rush. Ms. (Y/N) isn’t going anywhere.”
Within seconds, every student in the room lined up perfectly. You watched Ryland with absolute awe. “It’s a learning curve,” he whispered back.
You didn’t quite fit in with the rest of the teachers, not yet at least. It was the main reason why you booked it out of the lounge during lunch and opted to eat at your desk instead. Janet and Avery all had different lunch periods and Chris? Well, no one knew where Chris went.
Ryland Grace watched you walk into the library from the corner of his eye. While he normally would have kept his classroom open for lunch, he decided that you could use a little bit of company. Well, if you let him of course.
“Hey. I need to close up shop for lunch today.” Three of his students sulked. “I know. I know. But I heard that Mrs. V has her art room open…” The students ran with their little lunch bags down the stairs. Ryland took a deep breath and knocked on the library doors.
“Knock, knock.”
“Who’s there?”
He pushed the doors open and gave you a little wave. You couldn't help but smile at him- which you seemed to be doing a lot. You couldn’t help it. He was the first friendly face you saw- and he just kept being friendly.
He held something behind his back and presented it with a ‘TA-DA’! You couldn’t tell what it was exactly. Ryland could easily tell by the way you smiled. “Oh my god! What a cute…”
“It’s a bookworm,” he happily stated.
He pulled up a chair beside you and emptied out the contents of his lunch bag. A sleeve of ritz crackers dropped out first. A bag of pre-made chicken salad rolled out right after. You knew never to judge what people ate, but this was just sad. Ryland glanced over at your spread. You had a mason jar filled with fruit, a sandwich cut in two perfect triangles, and a bag of pretzels calling your name. Geez Louise…he really needed to start bringing better stuff for lunch.
“Did you draw it yourself?” you asked while you lifted the poorly drawn worm glued onto a popsicle stick and spun it around.
He looked at you for a moment as if he was debating whether to tell you the truth or lie directly to your face. “Is it good or bad?” He asked. You raised a brow and studied the green-wormlike creature up close. “Nice build, kind eyes, cute little nose. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He sighed in relief. “Good. If you said he was hideous I was going to tell you one of my students made it. Make you feel a little guilty.” You laughed, sliding the apple and the worm next to the name tag you bought for yourself. “Hey. Art wasn’t my strongest subject,” he joked.
You popped a strawberry in your mouth and offered him one. He hesitated for a moment before he took it out of your hand and put it in his mouth. “These are great,” he said with a satisfied hum. “I got them from this farmers market.”
Ryland asked you a bunch of questions. You answered them happily. It had been a long time since you had found someone who was interested in the little things you were interested in. It felt- nice.
If you were somewhere, Ryland was bound to show up eventually. From that day forward, the two of you became kind of inseparable. You got to school at around the same time, took similar lunch breaks, and enjoyed some (but not all) of the same things.
Ryland Grace proved to be much more of an open book than you were. You learned that his favorite animal was a fox or a seal. It depended on his mood. He liked to talk- a lot and didn’t always stop to think before he moved onto the next sentence. He told terrible jokes and found the simplest things hilarious, which was terrible for you by the way. If he laughed, you laughed.
You both interviewed for the same HIGH SCHOOL just years apart but both decided not to take the job because teenagers scared the crap out of you.
And to be honest, you didn’t mind the company during lunch or in between periods. The more he did it, the more you began to look forward to your coworker popping in for a visit.
After some time (and some coaxing from your therapist), you started to tell him things about you that most would have considered lame. He liked that you collected coffee mugs and salt and pepper shakes but he hated that you never saw ANY of the Star Wars Movies (or TV shows). He learned what kinds of books you liked and offered to give them a try. Oh, and he was oddly invested in your plans to renovate the library.
You liked the ‘Friday feeling.’ The library showed signs of use. Books were still piled on tables, chairs were still angled for quiet conversation. Plus, organizing had to be one of your favorite things about the job. There was just something so satisfying about putting things in order.
At the end of the week, when the bell rang for the start of the last period, you stared back at the desk that was empty just a couple of days ago.
The little bookworm peered out of a cute mug you found at a thrift store near your new apartment. You had different colored pens and markers available for all students to use. Speaking of students, when were you considered one of the cool ones? How did it happen so fast? You had kids dropping by at the most random times of the day. Last period really seemed like the only time you were alone.
You moved towards bookshelf three, staring up at the shelves labeled L-Q like they had personally offended you in some shape or form. You could easily arrange each book by alphabetical order, but something in the back of your mind told you to order it by color just for the sake of aesthetics.
Stupid brain. Middle schoolers wouldn’t appreciate aesthetics. They would appreciate things being easy to find.
But her focus was torn away from the shelf the second the door to the library swung open.
“You don’t have any baking soda in here, do you?”