Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

When you die, how do you really know you’ve died? Is it just a matter of… falling asleep? Then dreaming forever? Is that how this works? Is that what’s happening to me right now? Am I dead, trapped in an endless dream?

Is that how it is?

Well…

It’s… okay, I guess. I should be grateful that it’s a dream and not some horrific nightmare… Or worse, a repeat of what happened to me inside the iron lung—having to rip out my own arm, hallucinating, coughing up blood, that nauseating feeling of standing still while the submarine swayed side to side in the blood.

I’m definitely dead; I know that. No normal person could survive all of that. But it’s fine, right? I was probably eaten or… something. I managed to get the black box out, and hopefully, while the sub crumpled slowly under the weight of the alien’s jaws, it was able to float to the surface.

Can the vest even work with blood? It should, right? It’s still filled with air, and blood is still a liquid after all. 

That’s how it’s supposed to work… right?

But—what if I failed? Does that mean humanity is doomed? Does that mean I failed? What if—God… no, I didn’t fail. 

I didn’t.

Right? I— I didn’t die for nothing, did I? I saved them; I saved everyone. This is my penance; I’ve served it. I got the files; I retrieved the black box. I made sure it would survive everything, even knowing I was likely going to die.

I had no chance of escaping. Ava—Ava’s dead. I know that; I heard the screaming and the crunching of her sub. That means it was just me. The black box had to survive—it had to.

I can’t die… I can’t die without making sure it reaches the surface—

I can’t—

Wait… there’s light—why is there light? Is this… Heaven? Is this what everyone in Eden talks about? I’ve never been a firm believer—I mean, I believe in some of what they say… kind of, maybe a little. But—I never truly believed that the Kingdom of Heaven exists.

Does that mean I deserve to enter the Kingdom of Heaven? Is that why there’s light?

Or no… what if—what if it’s the alien again? It must be, right? That woman—that voice, the same woman from the SM-8, she’s definitely dead, been dead. The alien could easily mimic her voice; it talked about the light.

What if this is the alien? Oh god—no, I don’t want this. 

“Eye movement detected.” There was a voice above me—monotone, loud, as if it were right beside my ear. I think I flinched, but my body feels so heavy, like I’ve laid down with a rock on my chest.

There are whirring noises and movement—like machinery, not really a person. But it’s frightening nonetheless.

What was that? Scratch that—where am I? Is this Heaven? There’s light—I think my eyes are trying to adjust. I see the light—no, not light. The ceiling is white and bright—

I have eyes…

I have eyes? I thought—

Well, I remember everything being blurry, a mess of blobs and shapes when blood filled my vision (which, I guess, in a way, it filled everything in my body, not just my eyes). I knew I was gone when blood poured in; I couldn’t see, hear, or breathe, and the blood was scalding hot. It was agonizing.

I was pretty sure I screamed my lungs out—full-blown screaming, cursing, everything.

“Eye movement detected.” I must have closed my eyes again and opened them up because instead of the white ceiling, I see a strange machine—well, a weird machine that resembles hands as its face, hovering over me, doing something to my face. Okay, what is happening to my face? 

Everything is still hazy; the edges of my vision are like—there are bubbles appearing—or, maybe, clouds? Like those in the picture books my mom used to show me. Those fluffy, cotton-like things that she called clouds on Earth.

It’s kind of nice—

“What is two plus two?” the grabby-looking hand machine asked. It talks—I knew that already. It had said something earlier when I unknowingly opened my eyes.

It hovers closer, and I cough—I feel something inside my throat. I try to move my hand to pull it out—because what on Earth is in my throat? It feels plastic-like, some kind of tube. Oh god, get it out.

I can’t move my hands…

I coughed again as the hand gripped whatever was in my mouth and pulled slowly—and oh god. It was—

I coughed and gagged, feeling my throat constricting as the tube was extracted. The edges of my vision were darkening, and my eyes felt heavy as I watched it being pulled out completely. I spluttered, coughing and gagging, my throat aching from the emptiness left behind.

It was a long white tube. Did that come from inside my mouth?

Oh god… That’s—

I gagged again (mostly out of disgust because I don’t know how that was placed inside me), desperate to move my hands.

“What is two plus two?” The voice from the hand asked again, hovering over my face. I tried to resist, but it moved just a little from the soft plush of the bed I was lying on before dropping back down again. I let out a sound that was part groan, part frustrated keen.

What had this robot done to my body? Why can't I move? Where are the people? Where are the doctors? Did the black box get out?

“What is two plus two?” it asked again as I coughed. “Tttttheeee… the bbbbbuhlack box. Did it—gggguh–et out?” I could barely talk, slurring my words. My tongue felt so heavy, and my voice was raw and painful, like I had swallowed a knife.

It was excruciating—and I could taste copper at the back of my throat.

“Incorrect. What is two plus two?” it said. I groaned, tilting my head to the side. I felt something attached to the sides of my head—were those more tubes? No, they looked like wires. Beside me was some kind of screen, propped up on a shelf filled with various strange items.

The metal looked odd—almost like rusty metal.

I heard beeping on my other side—rapid beeping. I turned my head to the left and saw another screen; it might have been monitoring my heartbeat.

“What is two plus two?” it asked again. “Fffffour.” I finally managed to say, forcing it out. I was so over it, and I needed to know if the black box got out, how I had escaped, and whether Ava was alright. 

That worry surprised me a little, considering she had been the one to throw me into that submarine, weld me shut, and abandon me to the depths of the blood ocean, essentially making my life a living hell.

But yes, I was worried. Was she here? Did she rescue me? Did that mean I must have hallucinated her getting eaten?

I looked at my left arm, expecting to see a stub or some grotesque amalgamation of vines crawling up, but no—it was just my arm, pretty normal, albeit a little pale now. I used to be perfectly tan just like my mother, 

but now… I didn’t know. I looked really pale, almost matching the patient gown I was wearing.

Now that I thought about it, I had felt unable to stand while being thrown around.

I wiggled my toes as I watched the machine hands retract, whirring loudly.

The edges of my vision were still darkening, and my eyes burned from the light. Outside? There was a large window, and I could see light—okay…

Okay…

I lay my head back down, my vision slowly fading to black.

Through the large window, I saw light and… clouds. Yes, they were definitely clouds, and a large circular ball of light that burned my eyes when I raised my head again to look at the window by my feet.

What was that?

That’s a sun, right?

I had brothers who were amazing artists, capable of drawing with just a pencil. They often illustrated scenes like this—how they imagined the Earth looked before it was taken by the Quiet Rapture.

But they never mentioned it being this colorful. Well, it wasn’t exactly colorful; the clouds were very white, much whiter than those depicted in storybooks. The sun—well, it was yellow and white, I think. I couldn’t stare at it for long.

And staring at it—

Made me even more tired now.

Alright… black box, Ava, alien, iron lung, questions later. I need to sleep—scratch that, I have no choice but to succumb to the beautiful embrace of darkness. So goodbye, beautiful dream (if this is a dream, yes, it is a goodbye).

I lay back and closed my eyes, accepting the impending darkness. I heard whirring as everything slowly faded out. 

This time, it wasn’t just the automated voice of the machine but the voice of a man, accompanied by a whistling tune—almost like a beautiful melody played on an organ.

And I drifted off to sleep once again…

—

I wake up again—the ceiling is still white, and the robot grabby hands are still there. 

“Eye movement detected.” I blink, and my eyes burn; I know I definitely fell asleep, and I think I was not dreaming. I’m back in the station, but I need to find a kind COI officer... or maybe David? Is he here?

I wiggle my toes, then move my fingers, tapping the mattress beneath me to test every part of my body. “Hand movement detected.” The grabby hands shifted quickly, startling me with how fast they moved compared to the last time I saw them. 

Watching them tiredly, I feel my eyes threaten to close again—but I can’t sleep now. I need to find David and ask the right questions:  

Did the black box get out?  

Is Ava okay?  

I’m sorry about the camera incident.  

Did I just save humanity?  

Am I finally free?  

And did anyone else notice how aliens literally live at the bottom of the damn blood ocean? Are we not scared at all? (I can almost hear the hysterical tone in my voice on this one; I might have to practice it before David arrives.)

Anyway, the camera situation isn’t really a question, but I know how to apologize, thanks to my mother. I don’t want to blame anyone, but come on—would it hurt to warn a guy that the camera emits radiation? 

Wait—does that mean I’ve been beaming myself with radiation every time I used it? 

Well… okay.

The machine hands, which I’m now dubbing “Grabby,” are carefully removing the IV from the back of my hand. 

Grabby whirrs loudly as it works; I don’t feel a thing, and oddly enough, I feel a bit stronger now. I can wiggle my toes, move my hands, and even do that weird wiggly finger motion (huzzah! I got my left hand back!).

“Where’s David?” I ask Grabby. I don’t really expect a reply, but maybe it can point me in the right direction. I try to move, lifting my knees and pushing my hands down to bear my weight, letting out a grunt—I'm still numb.

There are definitely painkillers in play here—I yelp when my head gets pulled back. There are wires attached to my head—oh! And my chest too. Slowly, I reach up and grab the wires affixed to my head and face, pulling them out. 

The sound is painful (I think; I’m still a bit drowsy). That was definitely tape, and it seems a few strands of hair got pulled out with it.

I look at the tape, still sticky with hair, then move to my chest, pulling off another set of wires and throwing it aside. On my finger, there’s something attached—it must be part of the heartbeat monitor. I remove it, and the monitor flatlines—yep, definitely a heartbeat monitor. 

I’m sitting up now—kind of, though I'm on the verge of tipping over. 

“Hey, Grabby, can’t you help me out here?” I say, and the machine whirs, seeming to consider my request. It moves, extending its head? Uh face? —Arm—I guess I’ll call it that. I grab onto it and carefully jump off the bed.

Oh, it’s cold. I let out a shaky noise as my feet touch the floor—it’s freezing! I glance back at the large window as I slowly adjust to my weight. I feel heavier than usual. 

Is that normal? Probably—I mean, we are on a moon, right? I should feel… I don’t know, a little weightless? 

Not weightless, but sort of light. 

I feel incredibly heavy, but I manage. 

I turn toward the large window again and gently let go of Grabby, walking over to it. I almost trip as I lean heavily against the glass, pressing my face to the window.

There’s water—  

Not blood. It’s waves, stones, pointy rocks… and what is that white-yellow thing the water is hitting? What is that?  

I see clouds and the sun. Oh, it still hurts my eyes. That’s amazing! I didn’t know that could happen. Is that even real? How did they manage this? Why would they need to? Resources are basically being depleted at this point, right?  

This doesn’t feel like the station—I mean, the station was dark. I spent my time before being thrown into the sub in a cramped four-by-four room where I couldn’t pace or move; I just lay down, eat, and use the bathroom. So maybe this is new. 

Okay. Time to find David.  

I move, stumbling back toward Grabby, which catches me. “Thanks,” I mutter as I look around and spot a door—jackpot. I quickly shuffle toward it, then freeze as a breeze hits me from behind, especially against my bare skin. 

I smack my palm against my backside—oh god, I’m completely naked, walking out of here, possibly into a hallway full of COI workers.  

Yeah, no.  

I stumble around, trying to cover myself, but it looks more like I’m wrestling with the hospital gown than tying it behind my back.

I spun around, narrowly avoiding a black, rusty shelf that almost sent me face-first to the ground. Somehow, I managed to right myself just in time and slammed against the wall. I could see Grabby watching me, its hands moving back and forth as if it wanted to help, but I was simply too far away.

This isn’t working.

I need clothes. I can't figure out how to tie whatever it is on my back, and I'm pretty sure my bare backside is still exposed. But honestly, that shouldn’t matter in a life-or-death situation. I need to find David—and the black box.

Spotting a rolling shelf with something white on it, I stumbled toward it—almost colliding head-first if it weren't for Grabby, which finally reached me with its arms. It grabbed my arm and gently pulled me back onto the bed.

Then it moved, retrieving something—the white fabric from the rolling shelf—and slowly unfurling it. Clothes! But they were all connected at the top and bottom. How am I supposed to wear that if I can barely move my feet?

I must have let out a confused noise because Grabby started making grabbing motions and seemed to be telling me to raise my legs. I complied while it opened the zipper, helping me into the pants. 

Whirring loudly, I grunted as I tried to hold onto Grabby's head—its structure was unfamiliar, but at this point, I was too exhausted from all the movement. 

And most of all I still hadn’t found David.

The pant leg was loose, making it easier to move, and I discarded the gown. Grabby helped me get into the upper half, zipping it up, it was also a bit too loose on me but now I felt less cold as I sat there, panting, and nodded my appreciation to Grabby.

“Thanks,” I said again. Grabby didn’t respond as I moved off the bed, feeling more tired than ever. 

But I needed to keep moving—get to David, ask what was happening, inquire about the black box and Ava, and if humanity was saved—or maybe if I was free? Was it too early to joke about tumors from the camera? 

I mean, I was pretty much in the same situation now, right?

As I approached the door, I noticed there was no knob. Instead, it had a pulley system that required me to grab it and twist. I managed to open it with a woosh and found myself in an empty hallway.

I stood there, bewildered. Turning back to Grabby, who was watching me, I pointed down the corridor. “Do I just…” Grabby didn’t respond or move. Groaning, I leaned against the wall and began walking.

“David?” I called out, trying to raise my voice. Shouting might save me the long walk to the end of the hall, especially since I felt fatigued and the painkillers seemed to be wearing off. I could feel a tingling sensation on my scalp where I had pulled off the wires and tapes.

“David—” I choked on my saliva as I reached the end of the hallway, faced with another door. God damn it.

I grabbed the pulley and twisted it again. The door whooshed open, revealing a sight I could never have imagined.

“Hah…” I breathed, eyes widening as I took in the scene before me—rocks… rocks with legs! They moved around like some twisted version of one of my Eden brothers’ spider drawings. 

I stepped back, counting at least eleven of them—maybe more—dressed in suits of orange, their feet tapping rhythmically against the floor. I could hear music coming from them.

They were all in motion, holding screens of some kind. These were moving rocks? They didn’t all look alike; some were larger, some smaller, and some much taller or wider. 

Their colors spanned the entire spectrum of the rainbow. They looked more like intricately designed gems than ordinary stones.

And they had five legs.

Okay… I’m dead.

These walking rocks—the alien in the blood ocean actually did kill me. Well…

“Oh my god,” I exclaimed. At that moment, like a pin drop, they all stopped and turned to look at me. I felt frozen, caught in their gaze. They didn’t have eyes, but I sensed their focus.

For a moment, nobody moved—not me, not them, nobody. Then, all at once, they started moving again, chirping notes in a flurry as I stepped back in confusion.

Am I about to get eaten? “Oh no—I no, no—what are you?” I stammer as they flock around me, chirping and creating musical sounds. I can barely understand what they’re doing.

Each one of them is the size of a large dog, reaching up to my knees and above. They chirp and whistle at each other, and suddenly, I feel a sharp poke in my back. I yelp, losing my balance and falling onto a larger rock spider that whistles a tune as I clutch at its… head?

“Sorry,” I mumble, feeling utterly bewildered. I notice rocks with five legs, and then something tugs me back to my feet. 

Dizzy, I struggle to comprehend these moving rocks.

I need to get out of here.

I stumble over them, muttering apologies as they all look at me with what seems like confusion. I bolt for the exit, though it feels more like a chaotic tripping motion as I crash into walls while the rock spiders scurry after me. 

One leaps, trying to grab my feet, and I jump away. “Uh, no! Bye! Thanks!” I yell, my heart racing. These are definitely aliens, right? What is happening—I’m being chased by MORE aliens.

Panic surges through me—holy hell, I need to escape. 

My heart feels like it's about to leap from my throat as I scream, covering my ears with my palms while I sprint, flinging open doors and encountering more rock spiders. I scream even louder, launching myself over them, using the top of their heads to hurl my legs over.

Thank you to my brothers who taught me that game where we jump over each other’s backs. This is nothing compared to the heights I had to clear back then.

I don’t know how long I’ve been running or how long they’ve been chasing me, but it feels like an eternity. I must have triggered an alarm, because at one point, I open a door and a larger rock spider—almost as tall as my waist—grabs me. 

I scream—loud and shrill (I don’t think I’m proud of the scream I just did, but I am so scared right now…), and the guard rock spider responds with a loud noise that resembles a hand slamming on the piano that Father has in his room. It lets go of me.

I turn and leap over the smaller rock spiders.

“Stop chasing me! Why are you all after me? What did I even do?” I yell, my eyes burning as I zigzag through rooms. A few rock spiders drop off, probably too slow to keep up. I finally find a room that’s darker than most, slam the door shut, and huff and puff, my vision starting to blur—I’m so exhausted.

I hear the scuttling of feet, the tapping growing louder, accompanied by whistling tunes and the click of shoes. Shoes? Another human is here? 

I lean closer—maybe it’s Ava? Could it be David? Why are there rock spiders swarming the station?

“He ran? Okay—okay, guys, it’s normal. You don’t just flock around someone who just woke up after months—right? Okay, no, I’m not blaming you, but still.” A voice reaches me—light and familiar. I perk up; it’s English!

Someone is here!

I crawl out but hesitate—what if this guy is one of them? I retreat back under the table, uncertainty gnawing at me, and bite my lip until I can taste the sharp sting of copper.

“Guys, no—no! Come on, why did you chase after him? You sent Bart after him? That guy is huge! You definitely scared him now—Rocky, no, you aren’t coming with me. Guys! Can you all back up?” The man outside continues to speak, his voice rising. I flinch, inching further into the dark—oh god, it’s dark.

But staying here under this table is becoming unbearable. I freeze, curled up and gripping the metal legs. The door wooshes open, flooding the room with bright light. I flinch back, spotting a dark shadow.

“Heeey,” the same voice calls, and the door closes behind him. I stay hidden beneath the table as the lights brighten, and I can’t help but startle, hitting my head against the metal above me with a loud clang.

I can see his lower half—he's wearing loose black pants and mismatched socks with slider sandals. He freezes when I move and make a noise.

Slowly, he shifts, kneeling on one knee and lowering his head to meet my gaze. I freeze in return, staring back at him. He has bright blue eyes and tousled blond hair, as if he just decided to embrace a "woke up like this" look. 

His glasses hang precariously on one ear, and I feel a little nervous that they might fall, but he seems unfazed. A large knitted cardigan envelops him, draping over a loose shirt that has words printed on it, though I can barely read it due to the way it folds when he kneels before me.

“Wanna move out of there?” he asks.

I don’t respond—mostly because I’m unsure of what to say. Should I say no? What if he gets angry? That would be unfortunate.

The table shifts; I consider grabbing it and throwing it at him if he tries to hurt me.

He looks at me, adjusting slightly on his knees, appearing nervous. I should be the one feeling anxious for my life, not him. “I’m Ryland Grace, but you can call me Grace. What about you?” he asks after a moment.

Should I tell him my name? I hesitate—he has those alien rock spiders outside the door, and I’m scared to lie. What if they all jump me and eat me?

“Uh—Grace.” he says again, this time, slowly (does he think I’m stupid?), pointing at himself. He smiles, pointing at his chest as if he thinks I won’t understand. 

He then gestures at my chest, and I look down, then back at his face. He seems genuinely decent—everyone else I’ve encountered has either looked at me with disgust or anger.

But Grace isn’t glaring at me; instead, he looks excited, with wide eyes and a grin that betrays his nervousness. His hands twitch as if he wants to reach out to me—maybe to poke me or, worse, pull me out from beneath the table. But he appears harmless.

In fact, he looks almost… welcoming, with those bright blue eyes—I've never seen a blue quite like that before.

I open my mouth, about to share my name as well. But then there's a loud slam on the door, and it swings open with a whoosh.

I instinctively flinch back as I see another rock spider—this one is less colorful, brown with hints of green, its body marked with strange patterns. It emits a series of whistling notes at Grace.

“Ugh,” Grace groans, thudding his forehead against the table. “I said not to come in until I told you to!” he calls out, turning to the rock spider, which continues to whistle a tune, dancing in front of me.

They’re communicating—understanding each other.

What on earth is happening? Am I dead? This is absurd.

“Rocky—I asked for one thing, I swear!” Grace exclaims, exasperated, as he falls back on his heels, wiping a hand over his face. The rock spider—Rocky?—whistles again, sounding almost like laughter.

What is going on?

I watch them interact, my head moving back and forth in confusion.

“Are you talking to it?” I finally ask. Grace jumps, surprised, and then suddenly looks more excited than ever.

“You speak English!” he says, inching closer. I instinctively pull back, and he halts, realizing I’m creating distance between us. Now, I’m fully out from under the table, and he’s the one still underneath.

“Oh, sorry—” Grace says, moving back and accidentally hitting his head under the table. His glasses fall to the ground, and I see him wince as he picks them up, blowing out a breath and letting out a nervous chuckle. 

I can’t help but think that despite everything, he probably isn't a threat. In fact, he might be just a bit too clumsy to be dangerous.

Rocky lets out a tune again, and I can see Grace’s face turning red with embarrassment as I watch him, feeling confused and incredibly tired. My eyes are starting to close; I’ve done too much running and hurdling over rock spiders. Now that this guy seems to be no threat, my body is starting to calm down.

I lean back against the metal cabinet behind me, observing him as he tries to crawl out from under the table backwards, inadvertently bumping into a rock spider that releases a loud whistle and jumps angrily. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Grace says as he stands up, patting his knee while I continue to watch him navigate around the table.

“Uh, sorry about the guys outside chasing after you,” Grace adds, bending down to look at me. I just stare at him, unsure. 

That was excitement? They looked more like a pack ready to devour me. I don’t think I had enough adrenaline to chase after someone.

“So… want to get out of here? The floor isn’t comfortable,” Grace offers, extending his hand toward me. I hesitate, looking from his hand to his face before pushing myself up using the cabinet.

Grace hovers beside me, hands moving as if he wants to help. 

“Where is David?” I ask, turning to him. The rock spider has moved beside Grace, letting out a soft tune while tilting its body toward me—or at least, I think it is. It has no eyes after all. 

“David? You got other people with you?” Grace replies, but I slowly shake my head—of course, David wasn’t with me in the sub. “No, David was the one who pulled me out of the ocean, right? Is Ava alright? Did you guys get the black box?” I ask, expecting Grace to agree, but he only looks bewildered.

Well, welcome to the team, I guess. I’m confused, he’s confused, we’re all confused! And there are alien rock spiders...

“I don’t think I know what you’re saying,” Grace admits. 

Okay… maybe this guy is just clueless. I just need to find David. “Where’s David?” I ask again. “There’s no David here, just you and me. Well, I do have a David, but he’s an Eridian, of course,” Grace shrugs, and I blink, absorbing the information. Eridians—so these alien rock spiders actually have a kind.

No, focus. “I have to find David,” I insist, moving past him as he follows, letting out a confused sound. 

“What? Wait—look—you just woke up from a seven-month coma; I don’t think you should be running around like this,” Grace says as I reach for the wall by the door.

“Wait—” Grace calls after me.

I swing the door open, only to trip over an alien rock spider standing directly in front of it. I fall hard onto my left shoulder and let out a loud shriek as my body meets the floor.

“Ah crud,” I hear Grace mutter as I look up to see him standing there with his hand over his face, his glasses crooked again. 

I hear the rock spider emit sad trills as I groan in pain, trying to push myself up to my knees before finally giving in and splaying back down on the floor.

—

As a child, I never really had unlimited access to books. We had libraries, but they rarely had anything I wanted. Sure, there were books about space, stars, suns, and planets. And there were also books on botany—about plants and trees. I remember being especially fascinated by one particular tree—the last tree of Eden, often found sitting beneath it, captivated by its presence.

Before it died, I would talk to that tree. It felt nice and peaceful to share my thoughts with it while reading the books my mom gifted me. 

God… I loved all those books: the ones about Earth, the ones about romance, and especially the ones where I could imagine that some elements actually existed—somewhere in another world.

Like alternate universes.

Grace once told me that I might have been thrown out from a wormhole or something similar (I don't fully understand what that is). 

He suggested that the world I came from is vastly different from where I am now. In my reality, stars didn't disappear, and planets remained intact. The Quiet Rapture, as I’ve come to understand through Grace’s really fast ramblings, didn’t occur in this place.

Earth was thriving, and it was Grace who came from Earth—a place afflicted by something they called a star eater, which didn't actually destroy stars or planets but merely dimmed them. Unlike what happened in my world.

In this reality, there was no Quiet Rapture, no moons with blood oceans.

Grace and Rocky—his now.. Uh… rocky friend that has five legs and talks in music—met because they were fighting this star eater, which was threatening their planets. They collaborated to find a way to destroy it, and apparently, they succeeded because both Earth and Erid are still alive.

Now Grace is here on Erid—Rocky's planet (pretty cool, right?).

Grace doesn't explain much about his past, and I hesitate to ask since I'm still grappling with my own overwhelming problems. It's glaringly obvious that I'm the only human among the many Eridians around him.

 I don’t bring that up either because, well… I’m still in shock.

I can't quite wrap my head around the fact that two universes could coexist. In a way, it feels unimaginable.

David isn't here. Ava isn't here. The blood ocean isn’t here.

Not because I’m far away, but because it simply doesn’t exist in this world.

I was found in a submarine—the Iron Lung— which somehow was in space (how the hell does that even happen, I was under the ocean after all). 

Grace and his ship rescued me and brought me back down after they discovered me swimming in hot blood—hot enough to melt someone’s skin off.

Now, I feel dizzy, nauseous—I’m overwhelmed with feelings, none of them good. Suddenly, I feel feverish, and I’m shown back to the bed where I woke up, forced to lie down again. Grace hovers over me, reattaching the wires I had pulled out and securing the heartbeat monitor clip onto my finger once more. 

The zipper of my clothes was pulled down a bit so Grace could re-stick the wires. The Eridian aliens assisted him as I watched. He drew some of my blood, and I tried not to look away—ugh… blood.

It’s too early for this.

He swabbed my mouth and checked my eyes. He must be some kind of doctor. “Are you a doctor?” I finally asked, having kept silent while Grace explained everything—his theories and other details I didn’t bother to catch. Mostly, I was just trying to stave off shock and the nagging feeling that I had failed humanity by not retrieving the black box.

“I’m not really a doctor, but I have a good teacher,” Grace replied. Beside him was a tall Eridian who whistled a cheerful tune, pointing at Grace and then at me as they went about their work.

Grace handed the swab to the Eridian, who used a clip to place it into some kind of tube, sealing it smoothly before passing it to another Eridian that let out a series of trills and whistles.

“What are you then?” I asked. A scientist, perhaps? If he wasn't a doctor, then maybe a scientist? 

Grace looked into my eyes for a moment before pointing something at my face. I heard a beep and noticed him checking it. “A bit too cold,” he muttered as I waited for him to continue.

For a guy who was rambling earlier, he took quite a while to respond—I almost feel a bit annoyed before realizing I did the same thing with him earlier. But I think I had that right, because I was pretty shocked myself. In fact, I’m still trying to understand what’s going on.

“I’m a teacher,” Grace says after a beat or two as he takes out his gloves and finally sighs, leaning over the bed while I stare back up at him.

A teacher… What’s a teacher doing on a different planet? He said he was sent out to save Earth. Shouldn’t that mean he’s supposed to be back on Earth? Or maybe Earth and Erid can go back and forth? I’ve read a few books about aliens and Earth and how they have connections to alien species. I like those books. 

Maybe Grace likes it here—it seems nice, after all.

“Okay,” I finally say as Grace gives me a tight-lipped smile and turns toward the Eridians, talking to them in low tones. 

I tilt my head, watching them all flock around, moving in and out of the room. 

“Simon,” I finally say as Grace turns to me, surprised. “My name’s Simon.” I repeat as Grace blinks at me—before pushing his glasses up (a bit charmingly, if you ask me) and grinning. 

“Nice to meet you, Simon… Any last name?” he asks.

I shake my head, shrugging. Last names are only for the rich, really—people in Eden don’t have last names. Well, Father did— a few of my brothers did, but they had higher positions than I did. That meant I had no right to a last name. Even my mother had none.

“Oh… just Simon, huh? Alright—well, the check-up went well. Later you’ll get some soup and some water. You can’t eat solid food yet; you’ve been out for seven months after all. Your stomach needs time to get used to it—so…” Grace makes awkward motions. “Rest well?” he says.

“I have a class to go… and…” Grace makes gun motions to the door as I nod. 

Oh, I get it now—he’s a teacher because he’s teaching other Eridians on this planet. Well, kind of. Where are the other humans, though? Don’t they need other humans to manage the whole thing? Surely Grace can’t just let the rock spiders and some machines run things around here, right?

“Okay…” Grace says when I don’t respond—oops.

“Bye,” I finally say, waving a hand weakly, before the Eridian beside me whistled angrily, grabbing my wrist and inserting something into the back of my hand. I wince. 

Grace grins at me and walks out of the room as the rock spider pats my hand gently, whistling softly as I feel a strange sensation—

Oooo… painkillers—yes. That’s nice—thank God they aren’t experiencing dwindling resources here. That means they can just give me painkillers anytime, anywhere (perfect..).

“T-Thanks,” I murmur to the Eridian. Its body is tall and a bright purple with black dots around its five legs as it lets out a small warbling tune, moving side to side. What is it doing? 

I blink—feeling even more tired now. The light outside the window doesn’t help, and the clouds moving—Is Erid like Earth? Is that why they have clouds and a sun outside?

No wonder they’re friends with Earth, I think.

The Eridian’s warbles continue, moving side to side as I watch it. 

Is it singing me to sleep? 

“Are you singing me to sleep?” I ask. 

The Eridian chirps, jumping on its feet happily and spinning around as I watch. My eyes begin to close as it continues its music.

Okay, that’s pretty nice. 

The Eridian doesn’t move, still singing, just watching me. Is it really going to stay there? Is it just going to sing and watch me sleep? 

I want to ask, but eh, too tired… Aside from the painkillers, there are definitely other things mixed in because I feel extremely drowsy, and my eyes are heavy.

Anyways.

Shock comes later, I guess—when I wake up, I’ll think about the things I need to think about and maybe ask the right questions when Grace comes back. 

I close my eyes, listening to the tune. 

God, I can’t believe I’ve been in this world for seven months and spent my time asleep. I wonder what’s happening to the others now? If the sub came with me, that means the black box didn’t get out.

Ava died for nothing. 

In fact, everyone who was thrown in the ocean died for nothing. 

I feel myself tremble as I let out a shaky breath—in and out, Simon. In and out. Let it roll off in waves—you don’t need to think about it for now. 

Grace told you to sleep, to rest, and you’re going to do both.

I drift off, heart slowing down—I hear the monitor flatline and beep and flatline again, along with nervous warbles and tunes from the side, but I’m too far into sleep to even notice that my heartbeat is slowing to the point that the monitor is no longer picking it up.

Chapter Text

Apparently, when I sleep, my heart slows down so much that the monitor can’t detect my heartbeat. I slept for around half a day—about 12 hours, according to Grace—and the entire time, everyone, including the Eridians (I need to start calling them that instead of rock aliens), thought I was dead. 

Grace mentioned it was almost the same as when they found me in the iron lung, where I had no detectable heartbeat. 

The Eridians, however, could faintly hear it. They had to focus intensely, which is significant since they can hear Grace’s heartbeat from a mile away. This means my heartbeat is so faint that even they struggle to hear it.

Grace also compared my sleep patterns to those of the Eridians, explaining that when they sleep, they are completely paralyzed—essentially, they look dead and feel nothing. They can't sense any danger, which is why they keep watch over each other while they sleep. That explains why a purple and black Eridian was watching over me so intently while I rested.

Anyway, that was days ago—maybe weeks? 

I’m trying to get used to Earth’s measurements of time. They’ve come to accept that I sleep like the dead (literally). 

My sleep is so heavy and deep that my heart slows significantly, leading Grace to worry for a few days that there might be an underlying health issue—something involving a term that starts with "Hypo" something but I can’t remember exactly what it was because Grace tends to speak a bit too fast for me at times.

I've mostly remained in bed, watched over by the same purple and black Eridian, along with a couple of others—but mainly the purple one, who happens to be a nurse. Grace named it Chia because the black dots on its legs reminded him of Chia seeds. 

I’ve seen Chia seeds in books, but never in real life. I guess this is as close as one.

Chia mostly sings or talks me to sleep, which is a bit hard to define which is which. 

Grace told me that Eridians communicate in musical notes, and he mentioned planning to set up the translator again, as he’s finally able to understand them without it.

But now that I’m here, it’s more convenient for the Eridians to use their own translators so I can understand them better.

“Grace friend eat good, question?” Chia asks, its legs tapping rhythmically as I glance at the bowl of soup in front of me. It contains a few pieces of floating meat that Grace told me came from him. 

I’m a bit disgusted but also amazed that they managed to clone him for food. My stomach grumbles, but for the past few days, I can barely stomach anything they give me. It’s not just the fact that it came from Grace—though that does sound strange to say.

Whenever I take a bite, I end up feeling sicker than ever, often spending time purging it from my system. Grace has been focusing on keeping me hydrated since I can handle water, but food is a different story. 

They’ve tried numerous meals, but nothing has worked. At least I’m not dehydrated, which is good, and sometimes water fills me enough that I can sleep or walk around. 

However, the lack of food is making me irritable, leading me to bite the skin off my fingers—hence the gloves Chia and Grace made me wear, which I can’t bite through (how rude).

I’m just a hungry guy—a guy who’s not supposed to exist in this universe and hasn’t left this medical room for weeks… or maybe days; I’ve lost track. And I'm really, really hungry—have I mentioned that? I find myself sleeping longer and longer because of it.

“No, sick,” I groan, burying my face in my mitten-covered hands, desperately resisting the urge to tear up right then and there. I’m just so hungry.

Chia lets out a series of chirps and warbles before moving right beside me, placing a claw on my knee and patting it gently. It emits a comforting tune as my stomach rumbles again. I lift my head to look at Chia. 

“Where’s Grace?” I finally ask. He’s been gone for days, only stopping by occasionally. It feels odd because he usually spends most of his time beside me—as if he’s afraid I might disappear or something, or maybe he thinks I don’t exist.

He talks about all kinds of trees and plants since I specifically asked him about them. He also shares stories about his students, and I still don’t understand why he’s teaching Eridian children instead of human ones. 

I don’t think we’re close enough for me to ask yet. He seems to enjoy his job, and, in a way, I’m learning from him too. I probably seem a bit slow compared to normal humans, as I can barely keep up, especially when I'm always hungry and tired.

I still know so little about this world; the days have not been enough for me to learn much, and I haven’t stepped outside since I fully awoke. I’ve only been able to gaze through the wide glass window, and it turns out that the water I see is the ocean. No wonder it looks familiar—I remember reading about it.

This place is a beach, and Grace’s house is apparently not far from the building I'm currently residing in. It seems I am in a laboratory of sorts where the adult Eridians work alongside Grace. 

For what purpose, I don’t know. The facility was already in existence before I arrived, so it isn’t just for me. They must be working on integrating Earth life here.

Grace doesn’t wear any kind of mask, while the Eridians don these strange, skin-tight suits around us, which suggests we’re in a place where humans can’t breathe, but Eridians can.

 I may not be the quickest, but I’m not naive. 

This means that there might be a reason why Grace is the only human here: humans can’t come to Erid yet, and both Grace and I seem to be in a space where we can breathe.

Perhaps the lab itself is equipped with oxygen. That means stepping outside might be hazardous for me. 

I’m not entirely certain yet.

Chia occasionally talks about Erid, mentioning how it’s mostly dark, which confirms that this entire place, including the beach, is definitely not Erid itself. Maybe we’re in some kind of simulated environment—an artificial space where Earth life is replicated?

“Savior Grace is still busy in lab. In 10,800 seconds, Savior Grace will be here. Statement.” Chia informs me.

10,800 seconds… approximately two to three hours. “Okay, okay… I’m hungry, but I still can’t eat this,” I reply, motioning towards the bowl. 

Chia warbles sadly in response. 

“Water, question?” it asks. I nod as I watch Chia ascend the handrails to control Grabby, who whirs to bring out a translucent tube that I take to drink from. 

The water is cold, and I let out a sigh—it's refreshing, but it hardly satisfies my hunger. I really need some real food.

“Sleep, question?” Chia asks, stepping down from the handrail as it approaches me. I shrug. Chia adjusts the bed to prop the upper half so I can lean back. “Walk, question?” it asks again.

I shrug again. “Too tired,” I mutter. While it’s not a complete lie, I also feel a bit lazy these days, especially since I’m always hungry. I can see the window just fine and am actually enjoying the view of the beach from this angle, so I’m content.

“Chia will ask Savior Grace to bring a screen for Grace’s friend to watch,” Chia says, eyeing me expectantly.

Screen? Screen of what?

“I don’t understand what you mean,” I reply, leaning back as I turn to Chia, who warbles helplessly, the translator struggling to pick up its words. “♩♪♪♪♫♫ Grace’s friend, look ♫♫ ♪, so not bored,” Chia whistles, and I let out a sigh, not understanding a single thing.

Yeah, Grace mentioned that English isn’t quite sufficient for the Eridian language. 

They have more words than we do, so sometimes the translator doesn't work properly. I hope it gets fixed soon. I don’t think I’m as clever as Grace to learn their language. 

It took me until I was about ten years old to read properly, after all. Considering the lack of learning materials, it’s understandable, but we did have teachers in Eden too. I always felt… slow. 

I’ve been called “stupid” by several of the Sisters while growing up, which led to many nights of crying in my mother’s room. Before going to sleep, I would force myself to grasp the lessons, even though it didn't come as easily to me as it did for the others.

Chia emits an annoyed warble before walking out of the room, and I roll my eyes. 

Eridians definitely have distinct personalities. Chia is quite similar to Rocky, who is almost like Grace—they just talk, talk, talk. 

Sometimes, I feel overwhelmed being in the same space as both Grace and Rocky. My brain feels like it might explode if they talk simultaneously.

Too much information. 

Can I die from that?

I think I fell asleep waiting for Chia because the next time I woke up, there was a large TV screen beside my bed. An Eridian was wiring it in, holding a remote that resembled a ball. 

On the other side of me, there was a rolling table with Grace sitting on a stool. He wore a soft sweater and pants, still sporting those mismatched socks of his. 

He was bent over the table, mixing something in a glass while humming under his breath, and I attempted to blink awake.

Chia entered, singing cheerfully, accompanied by Rocky. They were chattering away, their translators seemingly turned off—perhaps to avoid waking me? I had no idea, as they often did that when I was resting (though to be fair, I sleep like a log; I wouldn’t wake even if the whole room were on fire).

“Grace's friend, wake up!” Rocky called, just as Grace moved and accidentally kicked the table. I watched as he fumbled to steady himself. “Hey, Si! How are you feeling?” Grace asked, pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose with a charming grin that made me forget for a moment that I was hungry.

Outside, the sky was slowly turning dark.

“I think I’m okay,” I replied as Chia raised my bed and Rocky maneuvered over the table, where Grace was doing something I couldn’t quite make out. 

“Grace made something to help with your food problem,” Rocky chimed, waving a claw at me, and I nodded tiredly.

Grace looked a bit nervous. “So, you have no problem with water—actually, liquids in general. You can handle a bit of warm soup, so I thought I’d work with that. Here, I made this.” He presented a glass to me, and I stared curiously at its contents.

“Soup water?” I asked, my tone dry as I just woke up and was caught off-guard. Grace shot me a nervous grin.

“Well, yes, you can handle soup to some degree…kind of, minus the minor vomiting here and there…., so! Uhm! —I blended this… It’s still water, but I figured flavors might trick your brain into thinking you’re actually eating. Just try it; it should taste like beef broth,” Grace explained.

Chia handed me a straw, and I dropped it into the glass before taking a drink. It tasted like soup, and I paused, half-expecting to feel sick. 

Grace, Rocky, and Chia all watched me closely. I blinked in surprise—my stomach didn’t roll! 

I think they actually did it! 

Grace beamed, and I smiled back, feeling a sense of triumph. But just then, a wave of discomfort hit me. Aaaaand there it is. The cold feeling of utter disappointment (which is really just me vomiting all over and embarrassing myself in front of everyone.)

I felt cold all over and gagged. Chia and Rocky scattered in a panic as Chia hurried to grab the large vomit box Rocky had made me. 

I heaved, my body shaking uncontrollably as I emptied my stomach into the box, only having consumed water, and I could hear Grace exhale a shaky sigh. He stood up and rubbed my back gently.

“Just breathe,” Grace urged. “Through your nose.” He added unhelpfully.

What did he think I was doing? 

I wanted to tell him that, but I ended up gagging again, more wet splashes escaping my lips. I could see Chia and Rocky moving around uneasily; I knew for sure they were disgusted. It’s tough being labeled as leaky.

Eventually, I finished vomiting and was helped back to lying down, feeling weak. Another IV was inserted into the back of my hand. 

“Maybe you’ve got stomach issues? You can’t just live on water forever—also you’re a bit too cold. Jesus,” Grace groaned, aiming a temperature gun at my forehead before dropping it back onto the table and sinking into his stool, running his hands over his face in frustration and closing his eyes.

“It’s not that bad,” I replied blandly. In reality, it wasn’t. Somehow, water still worked—it was torture, but I was able to feel full, and the IVs ensured I got the right nutrients. I was getting used to it, or so I thought. 

I wasn’t actively dying.

“I don’t know if that’s sarcasm,” Grace said, tilting his head down to peer at me through his glasses as I snorted. 

“Is that sarcasm?” he asked. “No, I meant it,” I insisted. Grace let out a breath and leaned back, scratching his head, knocking his glasses askew, yet he didn’t bother to fix them.

“Right… Okay—this doesn’t mean I’m giving up. You have no stomach issues; your organs function as they should. You’re a perfectly healthy male, and I have no idea what’s wrong—all I know is it’s in your head,” Grace said, tapping his temple.

So, I’m crazy? 

I made sure to repeat the words that I’m thinking of outloud.

Grace jumped at my words. “What? No!” he exclaimed. “Grace's friend is not crazy; just eat. Is that so hard question?” Rocky piped up. 

“Rocky!” Grace snapped, stomping his foot in frustration as I snickered, unable to contain a smile. I watched as Grace turned his stool toward Rocky. “

You can’t just say that, man!” he exclaimed, while Chia chirped and warbled in the background, the translator malfunctioning again. I could sense Chia giving Rocky a piece of their mind over that comment.

I felt amused—actually, forget the TV; I was thoroughly entertained by the argument among the three of them. 

“Rocky did not say anything wrong,” Rocky insisted. 

“Yes, you did!” Grace retorted, gesturing wildly. 

And just like that, their argument continued, leaving me completely forgotten on the side.

— 

I don’t think I’ll ever forget what happened inside the iron lung—I think it will be never. I can’t forget the creaking noises of rusty metal as blood poured in loudly, the hot blood burning my skin, the pain of having to pull my left arm out of its socket, the pain. 

All pain, pain, pain, pain. 

The screams, the dizziness, the haze. 

I was blamed for those deaths on Filament Station (it wasn’t me, it wasn’t me). Sometimes I’m glad I sleep like the dead; I can’t dream, I’m just in the blackness. I’m happy with that—back then, I could barely sleep in that four-by-four cell I was forced into. I’d hear people in other cells crying, sometimes talking to themselves. 

Sometimes, when it's night outside the Lab, I see the water on the beach as blood, and I can’t sleep, spending all my time watching movies from Earth and learning more about Grace’s Earth. 

It’s nice here—I still haven’t gotten out of the room yet. I am neither growing stronger nor growing weaker. 

Chia mentioned I could probably go out now if I wanted to, but Grace hasn’t given me the green light yet; he’s still trying to find a way to get food inside my stomach and had the idea of tubing me again, like how I was when I was in months of coma, pumping it with food and nutrients I desperately needed that doesn’t just come from needles. 

Which absolutely disgusts me and scares me, so I had to say no. I am not getting a tube shoved down my throat again, thank you very much. I’m fine with water at this point—no more tubes, please. 

Anyways, that’s that. 

It’s a nice recap, I think—I still don’t know much, and I barely question things. I think I’m just scared of knowing things after getting used to information being hidden away from me. I don’t know much about Grace, and Grace doesn’t know much about me. He doesn’t ask because I don’t ask about personal things. 

And I don’t think we’re that close yet—he’s not a bad guy, in fact. He has a certain charm to him, how he moves, how he talks. He gets excited when I ask about the stupidest things, like how it feels to teach Eridian children and such. 

He’s clumsy; he’s tripped on air a couple of times, and he forgets things from time to time. Actually, he even forgets where his glasses are, which are often just hanging off his left ear.

He’s loud too—but not loud like the screaming from the speakers in the iron lung. Not loud like the alien in the blood ocean, or not loud like Ava when she was screaming for me to get the black box (I still failed, didn’t I? I never got the black box out. The submarine is here, which means one thing… I failed…).

Rocky is the same—well, kind of. He’s egotistical in his own way; he knows his worth, unlike Grace, who tends to second-guess every move he makes. He isn’t as fidgety as Grace. Rocky knows what he’s doing. 

In fact, Rocky is apparently an engineer, and he helped build the Lab with other engineers. Rocky’s smart—smart like Grace. 

They’re like two peas in a pod. I don’t think I’ve seen them far apart from each other. Aside from the fact that Rocky needs to leave to go back to his “mate”? I guess Rocky’s wife or something. Or husband; I don’t know anymore. 

Is it okay to start calling Rocky “he” and Chia “she”? Their voice box from their translator sounds like it… so… 

Grace mentioned they really don’t have any genders, but they don’t mind being given one. 

So I guess I’ll do just that; I’ll keep it in my head, though. 

I guess I should start asking questions now—or I don’t know… stay in this bubble of safety that Grace and Rocky are providing for me.

 Other Eridians are happy to see a new human… but I don’t exactly have anything new that I can provide them, unlike Grace, who can teach and who is pretty good at science and space bullcrap.

“So! While I haven’t found a way to get food inside your stomach, we’ll have to use this.” Grace enters the room, showing a box full of needles—which I assume contain the necessary nutrients my body needs. My stomach rumbles, and my hands aren’t really in mittens anymore, and I’ve learned to stop gnawing on my fingers.

“Okay… So I can go out now, right?” I ask. Grabby helped me change my clothes today, which is always a challenge, and Chia had forced me to take a bath—not just being wiped down with a warm cloth by Grabby three times a day. 

This time, Chia might as well have picked me up and thrown me into a bathtub because apparently, I need to start getting used to doing things myself and getting exercise.

The lack of food… Well—I’ll get there.

“Yup!” Grace said, reaching over towards me—before pausing as I give him a look. He does that a lot, reaching out to me, touching me—I don’t stop him, but he often stops himself. I wonder what’s wrong with him.

Grace’s face turns red for a moment as he closes the box full of syringes and clears his throat. “Right. Let me show you around. Rocky and his team made you a house, actually,” Grace grins, and I perk up at that.

I have my own house?

“I have my own house?” I ask. “Yup! Not finished yet, buuut. It’s getting there. Come on!” Grace said, rushing out of the room.

I stand up, following him. My hair was tied up by Grabby, and my face was shaved with Grabby’s help as well. Wow, it’s weird to have a bare face…

Yeah, I don’t mind; it feels pretty clean, so I won’t argue.

Grace shows me around the beach, letting me feel the sand. The air smells and tastes salty, and the water is strong, almost toppling me over. The jumpsuit I’m wearing doesn’t get wet, but my shoes do, so Grace offers to carry them for me, and I reluctantly agree. At least I get to feel the sand under my feet.

He shows me my half-built house. It’s just beside Grace’s. Grace said it was a cottage; I have no idea how cottages are supposed to look, but it’s starting to look nice. So we’re basically neighbors. I see a few Eridian engineers moving about, chirping and warbling to Grace, who waves at them.

“Wave back,” Grace tells me, and I wave as well, watching the Eridians copy me happily. I can’t help a smile from forming on my lips.

Then Grace gives me a tour of his home. It was…

Well, I did expect Grace to be a very messy person, but it was messier than I imagined. He has his own Grabby in his home that he named Armando; it has more than one hand and knows how to wave, which is adorable. Grace even offered to get Grabby from the lab and bring him to my house if I wanted.

I can’t help but feel a bit flattered and flustered at that. I guess I’m starting to like Grabby.

Grace’s house is a mess, and I think he just realizes that too when he lets me into the living room. I see him running around in the kitchen, picking things up in a hurry, slipping on his bare socks as I look around. There’s a large wide-screen TV, a coffee table cluttered with papers and books, and some kind of tablet.

There’s a shelf full of hardcover books with no written words on the outside; it’s neat, but on some shelves, it looks like Grace has pulled some books out, leaving others tipped over. I hear a loud shatter and someone yelping, and I can’t help but turn my head towards the mess. 

I see Grace holding his hand and running out of my sight, his padded feet making pounding noises as I walk towards the kitchen. I see Armando by the side, sweeping up the mess on the floor.

It wasn’t that interesting—just a broken white mug—but what catches my attention is the red blood on the floor, not too much, just a few droplets. I feel my stomach twist and turn. Hunger and nausea come forth like the waves of the ocean as I have to stop and lean against the door frame, knocking my forehead on the wood,closing my eyes as I place a hand over it lightly as my vision blurs and my mouth waters for no reason at all.

I don’t know if it’s the sudden burst of hunger or the fact that I’m seeing blood again, triggering a trauma response. I watch as Armando wipes the blood clean and someone rummages in what I assume is the bathroom of Grace’s home.

 I lean on the door frame, still feeling a bit faint. I can clearly smell the copper odor of Grace’s blood on the floor, and I’m half tempted to sit down, curl up, and contemplate life.

Or maybe I should follow Grace towards his bathroom and hurl my guts out, which currently contain nothing but water and emptiness. I wiped a hand down my face and tried to steady my breathing as I saw Grace exit the bathroom, his finger wrapped in a small band-aid. I finally stood straight, hoping I didn’t look too pale.

“Oh fudge, I didn’t mean to make you wait—I was—ugh, I was trying to make coffee. We haven’t tried coffee yet, right? But I’m a—yeah, I tripped,” Grace rambled, laughing at himself. I just shrugged. It’s not like I minded.

“It’s okay… show me around?” I finally asked, and Grace sprang up at that, looking excited again as he showed me almost every corner of his house. The bathroom, his room—which somehow looked clean, almost as if he rarely sleeps in it—and the living room looked the most well-lived in, actually.

He had an office, but it resembled more of a storage room with how much paper lay scattered around. “Eridians found a way to get me paper—not from trees, actually, which is pretty amazing. So, me and Rocky made a printer, and I basically printed all the copies of books I have. Look, Conan Doyle,” he grinned, taking one thick stack of paper and waving it at me as he let me see it.

“I see,” I said, interest piquing as my eyes started reading the first sentences. I barely knew what the book was about, but I already wanted to read it without any prior knowledge. “Want to borrow the copy of Sherlock Holmes?” Grace asked. I nodded at him wordlessly.

“I haven’t made a cover for it yet—but I can get to that so you can enjoy it better than having no cover,” Grace said. I shrugged at that. I didn’t really care if it had a cover or not, but if he was offering, then I wouldn’t go against it.

I handed it back to him as we returned to his living room. “So, I know you’re feeling a bit bored at the Lab now; you can stay here while your house is being built. You can use my room,” Grace said.

His room? Where would he sleep then? 

“What about you?” I asked, watching him sit on the couch, flopping back and throwing a leg over his other knee, grinning up at me. He looked at me over his glasses, and I felt a little warm at that somehow. His stare was so peculiar; I didn’t know what to say.

I followed him, sitting beside him. “I sleep here, duh,” Grace said, patting the couch. 

“Oh…” I replied. 

The couch felt soft and nice—I could see how he could sleep here. 

Should I turn it down? I could always stay in the Lab; at least I had Grabby and Chia there. Chia sang me to sleep, and unlike Grace and Rocky, she actually knew how to be quiet from time to time. Here, I was basically stuck with Grace, who talked like he was running out of time.

But at the same time, it was getting stuffy in the Lab; I was becoming too accustomed to the sterile smell. It was getting sickening at some point. “Okay…” I eventually said before I could actually make up my mind.

Grace grinned at that. “Okay!” he said, excited. “Great! Great—I mean, we’re going to have so much fun—not in that way! I mean, I can teach you more about Earth, and you can borrow any book you want, or maybe use the laptop. You can search for a lot of things from Earth!” he rambled.

Or… we could just go back? Can’t Grace just return to Earth if he wants to? Surely he has a ship, right? To fly back home? “Why not just go home?” I asked, watching Grace freeze at that. 

“I—huh?” Grace asked, and for a moment, I thought his voice shook. “You want to go to Earth?” he inquired.

Well… no.

“No, I meant, aren’t you the ambassador for Earth? That’s why you’re here? You and Rocky became friends, so you’re staying here to teach about Earth stuff to Erid. Then Erid goes to Earth as well, right? You could go back and forth if you wanted?” I asked.

Grace gave me a look for a moment, then let out a forced laugh. “I—uh, no, no. I don’t know how you came to that conclusion. But I don’t think we have that much technology and resources to do that. Aaaand I don’t think Earth would be opening their arms to Erid anytime soon,” he replied.

“Oh,” I said, realization dawning on me.

So Grace is basically stuck here?

“So you’re stuck here,” I echoed my thought as Grace shook his head. “Well, no— Hail Mary—my uh, ship that me and Rocky rode back here can go back. It has enough astrophage to fuel it and send me back home,” Grace explained, gesturing with his hands while I watched him.

So why isn’t he going back home then?

Should I ask? Or is that a bit too personal? I feel like it’s a bit unfair of me to ask that when every time Grace mentioned the blood in the sub, I clam up and tell him that I don’t want to talk about it right away.  

So I didn’t ask.  

I hear Grace snort. “You’re thinking, why am I not going home, right?” he asks.  

I look over at him again when my eyes had trailed away from his face and finally nod, a bit embarrassed.  

It was probably written on my face before I looked away.  

“Uh,” Grace says, looking down at his lap, tapping a finger for a moment before leaning back on the armrest. “I don’t think I have anything to go back to on Earth.” He says. I lean on my knee at that. “I thought you said you solved the astro—astro—” I stumble.  

“Astrophage,” Grace says. 

I nod at that. Yeah that.

“Yeah, we did; the sun isn’t dimming anymore. Adrian told me as much—and last year, Rocky also told me that Mary is all fixed to go. I just… well, I just don’t want to anymore. I like it here—I mean granted it was lonely. But I have Rocky and the Eridians. I have kids here that I’m teaching—Hell, I’m also teaching the adults here about Earth culture and, most of all, space,” Grace says.  

One thing I notice about Grace is that his voice gets higher when he’s talking about something, especially when he’s incredibly passionate about it.  

I somehow admire that; I can’t help but find it charming.  

“On Earth… I mean—I have kids too—but I know for sure they’re probably older now; they definitely have their own kids now too. And—well, I—I have a few colleagues…” Grace says slowly.  

“No friends,” I say; it wasn’t a question, just a statement. I wasn’t being an asshole by saying that, but I think that’s what Grace wanted to say but is too embarrassed about.  

I don’t think there’s anything to be embarrassed about when it comes to having no friends.  

I mean, I had no friends. I had enemies. Everyone hated me, my brothers dealt with me, and COI people hated me for killing their family in Filament Station. I got punched, kicked, and choked. 

I pleaded and apologized to every single one, even though I’ve done nothing wrong, and I never knew that the bombing was going to happen until it was already happening, and I tried my hardest—God, I tried my hardest to stop it.  

But I couldn’t.  

And the other Eden brothers of mine pointed at me and blamed me for everything. I had no choice but to take the title of the Butcher when I’ve killed no one since I was just a child.  

I never knew how to use a gun or hold a knife—  

My mother never let me.  

And I never wanted to. 

“I—yeah, I mean I don’t mind—I just love it here. Erid is nice—” Grace says, shrugging. Then he looks over at me. “Do you want to go to Earth?” he asks suddenly, surprising me.  

Do I want to go to Earth? Hell yes, of course—but do I want to ride a spaceship to get there? Hell no.  

“I don’t want to ride a ship,” I say as Grace snorts at that. “Well—if you get past that… you can maybe—use Hail Mary… to go back home…” Grace murmurs lowly, looking away from me as I eye him. “Are you kicking me out before I can even sleep in your house?” I ask—it was a joke—but I think I said it too dryly because Grace looked up, panicked.  

“No, no, no! I wasn’t—” Grace stammers, but he probably saw the small grin on my lips as he calmed down, giving me a small smile. “You got me there.” Grace nudges my bare foot with his socked one as I shrug simply.  

“You have a mean blank face, you know that, right? You remind me so much of—” Grace pauses as I turn to him.  

“Of?” I ask.  

Grace shakes his head. “No one—just… I guess my boss. I don’t know.” He shrugs.  

His boss… Wow—I guess I should feel a bit complimented. “Is it a compliment or is it bad?” I ask as Grace snorts, shaking his head. “It’s pretty much the former. But uh… her name is Eva. She actually was the one who started this whole saving-the-Earth thing, Project Hail Mary, and sent me and the other two to space to Tau Ceti,” Grace explains.  

There were two other people with Grace?  

I would ask where the other two are—but it’s already obvious with the sad face that Grace is making and the tearful look he’s giving me (Rocky is right, Grace is much leakier than me apparently–minus me vomiting every single time; this guy might as well be a crybaby). 

“They died on the way. We were put in a coma to stop us from going crazy, I guess? I mean, you put three people in a small ship for many years; they were bound to kill each other, right?” Grace jokes as I give him a look at that. 

He isn’t lying about that one… not that I’ve experienced it, but putting four prisoners in a small cell was almost the same. I was nearly choked to death because of that decision, which is why I was given a singular cell, although it was smaller than the one that fits four.  

“Right, uh… so the coma thing didn’t work that much for them. It failed, killing them on the way. I was the only one who lived… then I met Rocky, and we did some fishing on Adrian—er, Tau Ceti, I guess? We named it after Adrian since, you know,” Grace shrugs, and I just nodded. “Earth culture and all with naming new discoveries like planets and stuff. I let Rocky do the honor for this one.”

That’s pretty much true; I mean, they call the moon I was on AT-5. Granted, it’s a boring name. I would have preferred to die in it if it had a name as good as Adrian’s.  

“So basically, on Adrian, we found the astrophage’s natural predator. I called it the Taumoeba. We did some fishing and almost died—but don’t worry! I'm still alive. Got this sick scar from Rocky when he saved me.” Grace pushed his sleeve up to show a scar on his arm as I leaned over to look at it.  

“Do you know why they wear those suits around here?” He asks and I just shrugged. I assumed they can’t breathe the same air as us.

“So uhm, basically they have those xenonite suits to prevent them from dying in our atmosphere—as in they would quite literally just… die, not choking like us, but their whole body fails and they get burned from the inside, and they’re also very, very, very hot. As in—really hot. He burned me… badly, so here is the scar to prove that,” Grace explained.  

Oh… that’s why, when I place my hand over Chia’s—er, head? Body? She was plenty warm, bordering on hot, as I kept my hand there. It wasn’t bad, though—in fact, I think it was fine for me. 

It felt nice. I mean, the heat—I don’t know why.  

Chia was worried that I might get burned, but I didn’t really get burned. I liked the heat she was giving.  

“Oh, I see now,” I nodded. That’s another question answered from the roster of my everyday questions about this world.  

“Uh, anyway, back to the story: the Taumoeba can’t live through nitrogen; it basically kills them. So, Rocky and I bred a bunch of them by getting them used to it. It took a while, and by the end, we had our own Taumoeba that can save both Earth and Erid—and, well… we headed on our own ships and went back to our own planets,” Grace explained.  

“But, uh, we had a major problem. The breeder tanks were all made of xenonite, and while we made sure we got our Taumoeba to evolve to be able to live through nitrogen, it also became able to go through xenonite. And Rocky’s ship was fully made out of xenonite. His fuel was made out of astrophage, so what do you know? It got through, and well—I had… the choice between going home or Rocky,” Grace smiled, shrugging at me.  

He wore the face of someone who has no regrets at all and is very happy with his choice.  

“You chose Rocky,” I said.  

Grace made a shrug like “yup” motion at me. “I chose Rocky. Thankfully, we have probes. I sent the Taumoeba back home to Earth and went back to Rocky’s ship—and, uh, here we are. I now live on Erid, and have been for a few years now.” Grace opened his arms and bowed mockingly at me as I nodded.  

“You’re really brave,” I finally said. That was very much my takeaway from this conversation. I could probably say more, but I wanted to say that first since it’s not even a lie.  

It’s obvious that Grace isn’t even sure if he’s going to last until Erid. Spaceships don’t carry unlimited resources of food, right?  

So Grace’s decision is brave—very brave… I feel… amazed, and… I don’t know—I wish I was more like Grace than I am right now.  

Grace made a pained look at my words as he looked down, sighing. “Not really,” he sighed. And I can’t help but raise a brow at that

I didn’t think Grace was the type to have such incredibly low self-esteem…  

“No, you are,” I insisted as Grace snickered at me, his eyes lighting up a bit. “Yeah—well. Rocky said the same thing… you know, throughout all of it, I had amnesia. I couldn’t remember what happened before I was in the Hail Mary…” Grace said slowly.  

Amnesia? How? Is it the coma thing they were put under to stop him and his crew from killing each other?  

“How? From the coma?” I asked.  

Grace sighed, “I hope this doesn’t really change how you see me.” He started. 

I startled at that, a little more confused by his words. “Uh… I didn’t actually want to go to space,” Grace began. He shifted a little on the couch, picking something out of his pocket. He brought out some kind of small ball that sounded like it was filled with sand; it looked like a miniature blue ball.  

“I was scared, but Eva—uh, I guess my boss? She, uh, well, she forced me. I got chased down, stabbed by a syringe, and gave me amnesia just so I wouldn’t mess everything up on purpose. She made sure the amnesia would make me forget that I didn’t actually want to come. And that by the time I remembered things, I would be too into the mission to stop and turn around—so… hurrah, Eva won. Earth is saved,” Grace shrugged, throwing the small bean bag in the air and catching it easily.

He doesn’t say anything after that, and for a while, I don’t know either—I understand him… a lot, actually, for someone who was forced into a role that they don’t want. 

Like me, basically. 

I think Grace and I are, in some ways, the same person: I’m trapped inside a sub that can barely handle pressure and could kill me at any time, while Grace is forced to forget about everything just so he can save Earth. 

But the difference is that Grace was able to save the Earth. 

And I didn’t. 

“I think you’re still brave. It doesn’t change a single thing at all. And I’m sorry you had to go through that,” I say, flinching as Grace throws me the earth bean bag. 

I catch it clumsily with two hands as I notice Grace looking at me in a strange, soft way that makes my face heat up a little—not in anger, but more like the feeling of being seen in a different light. 

Grace smiles after a few beats. “Thanks,” he says, almost looking shy as he glances down at his lap, biting his lip. “I appreciate that… I guess validation is sometimes needed, huh?” he jokes, and I don’t respond to that, just shrugging. 

I don’t understand his reaction, so I throw the earth bean bag back at him. He snaps his head up and catches it easily, and I smile at him as he grins. 

“Want to go back to the beach?” he asks. 

I nod in agreement, shrugging. “Sure.”

Chapter Text

Grace is still trying to find a way to feed me. And I continued to live on drinking water and receiving sufficient injections that Chia administers for me, ensuring that I wouldn’t accidentally forget or overdo it. 

Most of the time, Grace takes care of it for me since Chia is a very busy Eridian in the lab. 

I don’t mind. 

Days have passed since I moved into Grace’s house. It’s nice and quiet. Grace mostly keeps to himself—mostly. He talks my ear off more than usual, and I’m fine with letting him talk. I spend my time turning into a “couch potato,” as Grace calls it, watching every movie in his arsenal and reading books on his tablet because not every book he likes is printed out. 

He has a niche selection of books—it's not that I don’t like them, but it’s glaringly obvious what kind of genre he prefers, and I want more variety. 

So I do that: I watch TV, read, sleep. Rinse and repeat. I have no literal purpose or use in this little dome of fake Earth. 

I should feel a bit put off by that idea. But Grace doesn’t seem to mind that I’m not contributing anything at all. 

I go to the beach from time to time, mostly with Grace or, if he’s busy with his class, I go with Rocky when he arrives. Rocky is actually a pretty neat guy—err, Eridian—to be with, aside from Chia. Grace often mentions that Rocky tends to get pretty bossy from time to time, and I can totally see it from the way he talks. 

The translator is updated, and there are more new words being translated, making it easier to communicate with Rocky. 

“Grace’s friend, having fun. Question,” Rocky asks as we walk down the beach. I’m barefoot—I don’t usually wear shoes when I walk to the beach, mostly because I always have one thing in mind when I come here: getting my feet wet and feeling the cold water hit my ankles. 

Rocky does the same, but I know he can’t feel it through the xenonite suit of his. “I am. You?” I ask as Rocky just warbles, moving side to side a little. I hope that’s a yes—I’m not really the best at conversation, and with the way Rocky and Grace talk, the two of them can go on forever. 

And here I am, barely able to discuss a single topic without clamming up, as I’m more used to silence than talking. “Rocky enjoys walking with Grace’s friend.” Rocky waves a claw at me as he tilts his body, and I nod at him, shooting him a small smile. 

That’s nice—I feel a little flattered, and warmth spreads in my chest at the notion that someone enjoys my presence without being forced into it. Sure, Rocky isn’t human, but it’s flattering nonetheless.

I like it. 

“Uh, I notice… you always call me Grace’s friend. Do I not have a name in your language?” I ask, feeling a little nervous—Grace has one; I don’t think I have one yet, aside from being called Grace’s friend. 

Well, it’s not like I care or anything, but…I suppose I’m curious? 

“Oh, I give Grace’s friend a name. Okay. Question?” Rocky asks. I shrug for a moment, then nod. The waves from the ocean lap at my ankles; I’ve pulled my pants up to my knees because I want the water to touch my skin, not just my feet—I want the water to splatter up my legs. 

“It would be nice, yeah,” I say. 

“Oh, Rocky is honored. Let Rocky think.” Rocky replies. 

We find a spot to sit; the sand is warm as I settle down, and Rocky follows, letting out warbles and notes that definitely sound like sighing as we both sit down. 

He didn’t speak for a while; I think he’s really thinking about it seriously. I feel a bit embarrassed that he’s putting in so much effort—I mean, I’m not really much after all. So… 

“Rocky now has one,” he says excitedly, turning around to face me. I remember Grace telling me that Eridians have no front face, and every part of their sides is technically their face. 

Maybe Rocky got used to turning the flattest side of his body to ‘face’ people. “Okay… let me hear it,” I say, crossing my legs and turning to him, feeling a bit excited. “Ready, Grace’s friend, question? Rocky asks. 

I nod. 

“Grace’s friend name is ♫♫♪♩♩♫ ♫♪♩♩♩. Do you like it, question?” Rocky says. 

Wow… That’s a long one—I don’t think Grace’s is as lengthy as mine. It almost sounds like a music composition that Father would often play on the piano. I make sure to nod. “Yes, it sounds amazing,” I say, feeling a strange flutter in my stomach as Rocky happily warbles, moving around in a circle with two claws raised. 

“Rocky happy Simon likes Simon's name,” he says excitedly, and I nod, grinning. “Well, me too. It’s better than Grace’s, huh?” I chuckle quietly as Rocky lets out a series of trills and warbles that I’m pretty sure is actually a laugh now. 

Rocky makes motions with two of his arms, his body shaking as I grin at him. 

We then watch the waves peacefully, just the two of us.

And for a while it was quiet. Not before Rocky lets out another click and croons at me is where I’m forced to look back at him.

“Rocky happy Simon is doing this with Rocky. Grace always busy teaching Eridian children,” Rocky says after a few moments. “You’re lonely?” I ask. Rocky only warbles. “No, not lonely. Just miss Grace; Grace too busy—first busy with children, now with you,” Rocky says.  

I feel a bit bad at that. I didn’t know I was taking Grace away from Rocky. “Oh Rocky… I didn’t—” I didn’t know what to say. Should I say sorry? Should I reassure Rocky that I’m not here to take his best friend away?  

The same best friend that Grace came back for, leaving him with no way back to his own home planet?  

“No, Rocky is fine with Simon and Grace being friends. Statement.” Rocky points a claw at me as I let out a confused sound. Okay, then what’s the problem?  

“Why don’t you guys just… I don’t know—hang out?” I ask, shrugging. Rocky makes a gesture of shrugging. “We hang out,” Rocky says.  

“You mean you guys argue almost often?” I ask.  

Rocky laughs at that, warbling and letting out a happy trill as I break into a small smile.  

“Is okay, normal to miss old times. Rocky just miss being in the ship with Grace sometimes,” Rocky says.  

Oh… hm.  

The same ship they were stuck in for years until they got back to Erid? Is it normal to like being stuck with someone for years? “That’s… nice,” I say.  

“What’s nice? Question?” Rocky asks.  

“Well… being okay with being stuck with someone with nowhere to go for many years,” I said.  

“Is not normal. Question?” Rocky asks.  

I just shrug. “I don’t know,” I said—well, I know. I mean, getting stuck with other prisoners usually means you get into fights because you’re forced into the same small space along with them…  

“Oh… okay…. Simon likes being with Grace. Question?” Rocky asks.  

Wow, Rocky is asking a lot of questions today; I don’t think we’ve done this before. “He’s okay,” I said neutrally—I don’t really want to explain that I feel really safe being beside him. 

He’s just… Well, he’s just Grace, really—his house is warm, and his bed is nice, and most of all, he’s patient with me and he’s funny—even if he tells me that I don’t even smile or laugh at his jokes (I do find his humor funny; I just don’t really show it that much).  

“Just okay. Question?” Rocky asks.  

“Yeah. Why?” I ask. Rocky looks at me for a moment.  

“No other meaning, statement,” Rocky says as I hum at that.  

“Really?” I ask again just to be sure. Rocky doesn’t reply at that, just letting out a series of clicks and fidgeting with his claws.  

“Does… Simon have a mate back home? Question,” Rocky asks.  

Uh… That’s a new one. 

“No,” I said simply. I never really had one; you don’t really get a chance to think about getting into a relationship if everything has been turned into shit, really. Rocky seems to sense the air that I don’t really want to talk about my nonexistent relationship right now in my world.  

I mean, planets and stars disappeared—what more does it explain that I don’t have time to fuck and kiss a person?  

Rocky looks down at my response—maybe I sound a bit too harsh—fuck, I didn’t mean that. 

The question just surprised me, and my mouth moved first before I could even think about the question itself.  

I want to change the topic. 

Rocky is just like Grace, and Grace is just like Rocky. 

You just have to trigger a special topic or word for them to spring back up, just like some well-oiled machine, and they’re going to start talking about it until you fall asleep.  

“How is Adrian?” I ask, my mind falling on Rocky’s mate—the only thing I can think about right now. Because I don’t think I can ask about anything really smart and understand the conversation or even remember half of it, so I’m going with the easier route.  

The mate route, considering we’re already at that topic. Rocky seems to beam at that. “Adrian good! Rocky and Adrian have offspring soon! Rocky wants Grace and Simon to meet offspring!” he says, happily tapping away excitedly as I turn to him. Adrian’s pregnant?  

“I—Adrian’s pregnant?” I asked, confused. Grace mentioned that Eridians are hermaphrodites—which means, well, they both have the same equipment. And any of them can technically carry a kid—and also, they lay eggs.  

That’s interesting… I wonder how Grace and Rocky talked about that.

“Oh, not Adrian. Rocky carries offspring,” Rocky says excitedly as I let out a small, shaky “Ooooh…”. I can’t believe I’m making a pregnant Eridian walk along the shores with me—Is it even okay for Rocky to be with me right now? What if I give him human germs? Wait, no, Grace is always with Rocky, so it should be fine, right?

“Uh, you’re pregnant. How does that—wait, no. Forget that—is it fine for you to be out here?” I ask, feeling embarrassed that I was about to ask how he—er, she? No, I’m not going to think about that now. 

Anyway, I wanted to ask how the laying thing would work, or do they like—I don’t know, get baby bumps like humans do? But that’s too weird; I don’t like weird conversations.

“Rocky fine. Rocky likes walking,” Rocky warbles at me as I let out a sigh of relief. At least I know I’m not forcing him to walk with me. 

I hope it isn’t hard for him to carry a kid—I’ve seen a few pregnant women die in childbirth. I’ve seen men go crazy losing their wives over birthing children, and those children being thrown and cast aside as tools as a result.

I hope Rocky will be fine… I don’t think I can handle losing someone I’ve come to know well… I shivered at the thought of Rocky dying in childbirth. I feel Rocky move closer at that.

“Simon okay. Question?” Rocky asks. “Leaking.” He points a claw at my face as I realize I’m tearing up. I wipe it hastily. Why am I crying? Rocky’s an Eridian; they’re a whole lot different from us. 

“No, not leaking. Just… just the sun is hurting my eyes,” I lie, and Rocky hums. “I see… Rocky can’t know if Simon is lying. Heartbeat too weak sometimes,” Rocky says.

“Yeah… pretty weird, huh,” I mutter under my breath.

We fall back into a safe silence. Somehow, I feel better with this—maybe talking isn’t my forte. Or maybe I’m just getting a bit too attached to this sentient alien rock (Eridian… my brain can’t help but correct).

Sometimes I feel like I get weird from time to time; I’ve never been someone who cries easily, after all. Or maybe I do; I just don’t think I was given a chance or space to do so. Am I really that comfortable here that I feel safe enough to think I can finally cry? I don’t know.

Fuck—I didn’t think I’d get used to being around here so fast. “Does Simon want to see the ship he came with? Question?” Rocky suddenly asked as I raised my head at that—the iron lung? I felt my mouth dry and my nails digging into the fabric over my knees at that. 

“The submarine?” I asked, almost stumbling over my words.

“Yes, yes, that. Want. Question?” Rocky replied as I blinked, swallowing nervously. Do I want to see the submarine? I don’t know; that’s the answer. 

I’ve never personally sought it out—but I know, through Grace, that they still have it. The submarine was cleansed repeatedly because of the radiation around it, so I know it’s safe now. But I never personally asked Grace to let me see it. 

Mostly because… who would want to see the same death box that they almost died inside?

Grace still doesn’t know what happened, and he doesn’t ask, and for once, I feel thankful for that.

I don’t know how the sub looks; I hope it isn’t too obvious that a large alien was gnawing on it—I hope. I want to see it, though—but at the same time, I’m scared. But mostly, because I want to see if the black box is inside. Did I even get it out, or did I hallucinate getting it out?

“I—yeah, sure,” I stammer, feeling the sweat on my neck at the thought of seeing it again. 

But I want to see if I failed my mission—or else I’ll torture myself with the question of whether the black box got out or if I ever really got it out from under the sub.

—

The iron lung was apparently moved into the lab just a few days ago, and Grace didn’t bother to tell me—maybe he sensed my incredible apprehension about it. I probably looked like death warmed over every time we talked about the sub.

There are countless Eridian scientists moving around, taking pieces of the hull and chirping amongst themselves, all of them wearing multiple layers. Rocky is too, and so am I.

The Eridian scientists all looked excited to see me, waving at me enthusiastically, and I can’t help but wave back at them—it sends warmth to my chest to be welcomed, even though I’ve never seen any of them before. But I am mostly sure they’ve seen me when I came in.

“Eridian scientists heard good things from Grace about Simon,” Rocky comments, and I let out a snort at that. 

We both fall silent, just the two of us staring at the ship—it was caved in. I can’t see much from where I stand, and I feel nervous; my legs are shaking and my breath is quickening, my throat constricting.

I think Rocky felt that too, because he changed the topic to the suits we’re wearing. For once, I feel pretty thankful for him.

“Rocky and Simon wear protective gear with astrophage because of bad radiation, just to be safe.” Rocky tells me, and I nod. “Radiation is not good… I heard from Grace that you guys don’t deal well with it,” I say as we both stand behind the reinforced glass.

Rocky warbles sadly. “Rocky’s crew died from radiation sickness when trying to save Erid,” he admits, and I let out a soft breath, turning towards him. 

For a moment, we are both quiet. 

Rocky is still peering over the glass, and I hesitate to reach out—I want to pat Rocky on the head. Slowly, I place my hand over what I hope is his head and pat it gently. 

“They—they’re proud you saved Erid,” I say lowly.

Rocky’s body shakes at that. “Thank you, Simon,” he says, and I give him a shaky smile.

“What do you say about getting closer to my ship, huh?” I ask—it’s a bit embarrassing that I want Rocky to be beside me when I get closer to the ship, it’s not like it’s going to bite me or eat me, but It makes me feel better that Rocky is there, or at least someone is beside me…

Rocky moves down. “Rocky agrees.”

And we both enter, getting hit by a blast of smoke that almost sends me jumping to the ceiling. I hear Rocky laugh at my side as my face warms in embarrassment while we walk towards the iron lung.

And wow—it’s… it’s caved in. The upper hull looks like it exploded from the inside. There are a few puncture holes above and below—

It looks like a big bite—it’s highly obvious now. 

I look around, seeing multiple Eridian scientists, and then I glance at Rocky. Do they know? That some alien took a big bite out of the submarine? “Rocky?” I ask. 

“Hmm,” Rocky hums, turning to me. “Do you—uhm—know what happened?” I ask as Rocky lets out a confused warble. “Does Simon not know what happened? Question?” Rocky asks.

“I—no—I mean yes—no… I—it’s blurry.” I shakily lie, the words stumbling out of my lips. “But I just want to ask what you think happened. Is that okay? What about Grace’s opinion?” I ask.

Rocky hums again, shifting on his arms. “Well, Rocky believes Simon hit a wall or a very big rock that made holes in the ship. There are many holes above and below. Simon’s ship got stuck in some kind of hole,” Rocky says. “And very big rocks puncture Simon’s ship,”

Okay… A hole—stuck in a hole—like a mouth with multiple razor-sharp teeth, right? 

“Is Rocky right? Question?” Rocky asks.

I let out a shaky breath as I shrug, shaking my head. I try to wipe my face (I’m sweating hard), but I forget I’m wearing this suit, so it just hits the suit.

“I—uh—no. Not–not a cave, more like—like…” I swallow painfully, closing my eyes as I remember the creaking metal, the hull slowly caving in, and the screams of the monster. I can hear everything; it was painful. 

For a moment, everything turns almost gray. I can hear Rocky warble in confusion, and the noise is overwhelming. 

I breathe hard, placing my hands over my ears, but my palms can’t meet my ears, and I’m forced to hear everything. 

Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop! 

‘Mom, please keep this safe. Okay, Mom?’ 

‘It’s more than me! It’s more than me!’ 

‘Please!’ 

It’s me—it’s my voice. I can hear the last words I kept mumbling under my breath as I made sure the black box could get out (even if I die, it’s okay. It’s okay. It’s for humanity. It’s for humanity. I may not get to live, but at least humanity gets a second chance to live, right? Right?!) 

It’s my mission—my mission. I can’t fail them. I can’t.

I can feel the hot blood splattering against my skin, my hair falling away in sticky clumps, my flesh peeling off in strips. The wrongness in my body is steadily sinking lower as the speakers of the iron lung wail at me.

I remember the raw scream I let out at every move I do, blood entering my throat every time.

The agony of losing my arm—sharp, raw, unfathomable—echoes through me. There’s screaming, mechanical clicking. The camera flashes over and over, each burst of light swallowed up by the thick, streaming blood.

The smell—oh god, the smell—is overwhelming. The nauseating stench of blood makes my head spin. It invades my mouth, my nose, my eyes—my eyes—and I can’t breathe through it. The air is thick, suffocating. I am so fucking scared.

I remember sitting there, pain blooming in my left shoulder as I watch the tattered stump of my arm snagged on the pipes. The realization hits: I’ve lost it. I yank it free, tearing flesh, nerves, and sinew until everything gives way.

Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting.

I feel sick. Actually, physically sick.

I have to get out.

I have to get out of here.

“Simon. Is Simon okay. Simon leaking question?” Rocky’s voice is panicked, but I can’t move—I can’t move! What the fuck is happening?! What’s wrong with me? Just what is wrong with me?!

I’m gasping, but everything’s going dim, blurring at the edges. 

I can’t move, can’t see. Darkness creeps in. 

And I am so fucking scared. What do I do?

“You know this is the only way! You know it!”

“Simon!”

Stop it. Stop. Stop—

God, make it stop.

I taste copper in my throat. Tears stream down my cheeks as I keep hitting the side of my head.

Forget it, Simon. Let it roll off you. Think about it later. Not now. Not today. Later.

Through the narrowing tunnel of my vision, I catch glimpses of a few eridians standing before me, worried, their voices warbling in confusion. 

Their music barely cuts through the iron lung’s screaming—and the monster screeches too, mocking me with the stolen voice of the woman it killed in SM-8.

“It’s for you, Simon!”

“And it will never let you go!”

“It wants you to do this!”

“Can’t you see that?!”

Die. Die. Die. Die. Die!

Why won’t you just die!?

“This is all for you, Simon! All for you!”

“Why can’t you see that?!”

“Why?!”

“Simon, you are ours! You are ours! You are ours!”

Shut up! Shut up! Just die! Just shut up! I don’t need this—I don’t! I don’t deserve this!

“Pray that you stay dead!”

“We are salvation.”

“We can save everyone.”

“Simon…”

“Simon..”

“Simon, come back to us!”

“Simon!”

No. No. No!

No! Never. No. No. I don’t want to.

No–

I don’t even realize I’m screaming, crying—shrieking—the sound grating on my ears and ripping my throat raw.

“Simon!” I hear Rocky’s voicebox, cranked up to a hundred or more, trying to get my attention as I come to. The vision is gone, and what’s in front of me is a half-caved hull of the ship—caved in even more than it already was. 

The glass is fully shattered, and rust from the metal has chipped off from the multiple times I’ve hit it over and over again.

Rocky tries to stop me, and I barely recognize the voicebox as I come to realize I’m holding something in my hands—a xenonite table—and I’m hitting the hull of the iron lung again and again, shouting loudly.

I’m shrieking madly and laughing. Why was I laughing? I was so scared! I don’t get it.

I was screaming, too. Every Eridian in the room had huddled in the corner, except for Rocky, who was holding onto my leg, trying to shake me, trying to stop me. 

Rocky was shaking—was it from fear? I don’t know.

But suddenly, I felt sick with guilt. I did this—I made them scared. I dropped the table and looked at the other Eridians, then at Rocky. My chest was heaving. “Simon, okay now. Question?” Rocky asked.

I noticed the tremble in the tones coming from him. He was scared.

I did this. 

I did this.

“Oh–Oh God—I didn’t… I was… It was here—I didn’t.” I gasped out. “Simon is okay. Simon, breathe. Don’t forget to breathe. It’s okay to leak. Rocky’s here,” Rocky said, as I tried to breathe, turning towards the Eridians who were still huddled in the corner.

“I didn’t mean to—” I reached towards them, but they flinched, letting out scared warbles at me. I felt my chest go cold and my body freeze; I choked out—they’re scared.

They’re scared of me?

That’s not true, right? 

“It wasn’t me—” I tried again, reaching and stepping towards them, but they all flinched in unison, nervous and afraid. I let out a shaky sob as I brought my fist to my forehead in realization, my fist hitting the slightly hard xenonite suit.

Fuck.

Rocky let out a sharp trill at them that his translator couldn’t pick up because of how high it was. 

All the Eridian scientists in the room fled, rushing towards the automated door with a loud woosh as they tried to fit through it.

“Fuck.” I fell to my knees, my stomach curling as I gagged.

“Simon, breathe, do not vomit in your suit. Cannot get out,” Rocky said, rubbing my back with a claw as I tried to control my breathing. I felt sick, really sick.

I eyed the xenonite table.

Then I noticed the caving on the side—I’d hit the iron lung so hard with the table that the table had caved in, too. It was missing one of its legs.

I curled down, bringing my forehead to the ground and wrapping my arms around my stomach as I vomited all over the inside of my suit.

I heard Rocky let out a sharp trill at that.

—

“Hey, it’s okay,” Grace says slowly as I breathe out shakily. 

Tears had already dried on my face, and I now wore new clothing (soft and a little loose as I came to like), cleaned from the vomiting. It turns out that being on a water diet means you just puke bile and nothing else. 

It doesn’t even smell like anything at all aside from a slight sour odor because I barely have anything in my stomach. But it was enough for me to continue vomiting that time. The smell triggered something in me that made me want to purge everything in my body, purge everything, even my blood.

God, I feel horrible. I feel sick. I feel like I want to vomit. I feel tired. And most of all, I feel guilty for scaring Rocky and those Eridians. 

Am I going to be kicked out? Sent away? Killed? Jailed?

“Are you kicking me out now?” I finally ask after a few beats. Grace was called earlier after I started nonstop vomiting, and Rocky along with a few large Eridians had to bring me to the medbay in the Lab to be taken care of by Grabby and Chia, who was there in an instant the moment she knew I was getting sick again. 

Guess she missed doing the cleaning, huh? I thought Eridians hate the leaky part of us.

Grace comes in afterward and was the one to help me back to his house. For a few hours, we sat in silence on the couch. The TV was on, but I could barely focus on it. In fact, I don’t think I can focus at all. The colors are making me feel sick.

“What?” Grace’s head snaps toward me as I look at him, feeling tears threatening to fall from my eyes. Should I kneel to apologize? I shouldn’t cry, I know that. I remember crying doesn’t change anything if you’ve done something wrong. 

I remember…the impact of my father hitting the back of my leg when I did something wrong. No matter how hard I cried, he wouldn’t stop. He continued to hit me with a metal stick and made me kneel on shards of glass until my knees bled and I fainted from the pain. 

“Am I going to be kicked out?” I ask again. 

If he says yes, I’ll accept it—if he says I deserve to be put in a cell, I’ll accept that as well. In fact, I feel like that might be remotely better than being kicked out.

“What? No, no, no. No one is getting kicked out.” Grace moves closer to me, shuffling a bit. I don’t move back this time; his knees knock against my thigh as I look at him. 

“You’re putting me in a cell, then,” I say.

Grace’s eyes widen. “What?” he says, looking as if I just slapped him, which is a little funny, but I don’t think this is the right time to dwell on that. 

Maybe if I feel sad, I’ll come back to this moment where Grace is making such a funny face. (God, Grace is such an expressive person; it feels like fresh air to be talking to someone who is so expressive both in actions and words.)

“No, of course not. What happened to you was a response to trauma. There must be something that happened in that submarine—and you seeing it just—” I cut Grace off. 

I don’t really want to talk about this anymore. 

“It’s fine. It’s not the submarine. The submarine is fine; it’s just me.” I lie through my teeth as I bring my face down into my palms, bending over and lowering my forehead onto my knees. 

I can feel Grace’s eyes on the back of my head at my action and hear him let out a soft sigh. 

I try to gather my thoughts, to think logically first and rationalize. 

I hallucinated, that’s for sure—I acted because I remembered what happened—it did happen; I know it happened. And I know it was in the past, but somehow fear is stronger than logic and rationality because I had a mental breakdown. 

I’m not supposed to feel that. 

I’m not supposed to have these… mental breakdowns—I’m strong; I’ve handled worse. Sure, it isn’t large alien life forms who come to eat me alive, but still—I’ve dealt with worse; worse people have hurt me, have touched me with the intent to harm. I’ve felt, heard, and remembered all of it. 

I’ve learned to use my fear as a shield, as a weapon. 

And I don’t react like I’ve taught myself to with the iron lung. So why? How? 

Why am I so scared? Why did I react like that? 

I scared those Eridians; God! I scared Rocky. Rocky didn’t even talk to me when we left the area; he didn’t come to my room in the medbay. It was the worst. Eridians were straying far away from me. Chia didn’t say a single word to me. 

They’re scared of me. 

They might think I could hurt Grace too. 

God. I’m not normally this aggressive. I would never—I could never hurt Grace or any of these Eridians when they’ve all done nothing but help me and saved me from the death box that I call the iron lung. 

I’d rather kill myself than hurt any one of them. 

But they’re scared of me. I think Grace is too. Rocky definitely told him what happened.

And I’m scared that he’s scared. Now everyone’s scared of me. 

I hope he won’t kick me out or put me in a box to keep me away from the other Eridians.

But it doesn’t erase the fact that they saw me go ballistic on an empty submarine that did nothing but lay there, being dismantled by the curious Eridians who wanted to learn about my universe.

Fuck.

Fuck me. 

Fuck that fucking alien in the blood ocean—I hate its guts; I hate it with so much passion because of the fear it was able to instill in me in such a short time, despite the fact that I’ve lived through many pains and tribulations.

“I’m sorry, Grace,” I say again, and finally, I feel Grace place a warm hand on my back. For a moment, it just lays there, then slowly moves up and down—just like Rocky was trying to calm me down when I started vomiting from fear and terror.

“You don’t have to be sorry about anything, Simon. It’s okay,” Grace murmurs as I try to nod and express my thanks, but my throat feels tight, so I just let out a shaky breath while Grace continues to rub my back soothingly, just like my mother used to do when I returned from punishments—cleaning my wounds and rubbing my back while telling stories as I shook in her arms.

I can’t believe I’ve ruined my only chance at a better second life. It’s a no-brainer that I’m starting to really like it here, even though I’m on a different planet than the one I wanted (but it’s still a planet nonetheless, with the best and kindest individuals I’ve met).

I lean back against the couch as Grace moves away. I turn toward him, my lips parting. 

Then I realize what I want to say: Don’t stop? Don’t stop what? Touching me? Holding me? It feels weird to say that to anyone, especially to the only other human on this planet. So, I just close my mouth again.

“Can you tell Rocky I’m sorry for deciding that it was that table’s end?” I try to joke, but it falls flat.

I appreciate Grace’s snort and chuckle as he nods. “He’ll know,” he says, and I wince in response.

Grace then smiles at me. “Hey, want to see something? It’s something Rocky and I have been working on. It was a project before you came, and well, I haven’t shown you this yet, mostly because you’re always watching TV and reading.” 

I look at him. “What is it?” I ask.

Grace stands and motions for me to follow him to the back door of his house—I haven’t been there yet, mostly because I don’t go to places that I’m not allowed to. I wasn’t an overly curious person growing up, so I just let that be.

I let him lead me toward the back door, watching as he opens it. There is a wide expanse, and down the hill, what takes my breath away is a large, singular tree. 

I freeze as I stand there. “Meet the first tree in Erid. Well, there are more now since Rocky and I found a way, along with other scientists, to use—uh—my waste to grow it. No need to explain the details. But this is the first tree on this planet. We used the small branches to grow more trees in the lab. You probably haven’t seen the botany room in the lab yet, mostly because it’s moved to the highest part so that the solar panels on the dome can focus on it.” Grace rambles, and I let him as I slowly step toward the tree.

A real, alive tree—not a dying one. Slowly, I move my palm toward the trunk and feel the wood. 

I let out a shaky breath as I fully place my palm against the trunk, feeling the moist wood under my hand—not dry, not cracking, not crumbling. Not like the last tree in Eden that slowly died as we all watched its death.

“It was actually just a random project I started. It wasn’t even really that important. But I was wondering if plants could live on Erid, you know? I mean, in theory, it’s possible. So I tried doing it myself at first, and then I realized it works! I started this Project Sapling a year ago, and we found a way to make the tree grow faster with a few upgrades here and there. A tree doesn’t usually grow this fast; in fact, it typically takes thirty years to grow, but we grew this one in just a year and a half. Pretty neat, huh?” 

Grace stands beside me as I nod shakily and sniff. 

“In fact, with all the upgrades, I theorize that these newly upgraded trees can probably eliminate pollution on Earth in just a week. The other trees we’ve planted can survive in ammonia-filled areas; they can even clear it. Cool, right?” Grace continues to ramble as I just nod, focusing on the smell and the calming voice of Grace. 

I can smell the familiar blend of freshness and wood filling my nose; it’s sharp but pleasant. 

“It’s beautiful,” I say as I turn to Grace, who grins at me. As always, his glasses hang on a single ear as he looks at me. 

“Yeah?” Grace asks. 

I nod. “Yeah,” I murmur. 

Grace grins at that. “Do you want to stay here for now?” he asks. 

I nod again. 

“Alright, let me get a picnic blanket. I knitted one; it’s not too great, but you know, I learned to do that on my own,” Grace says, looking proud of himself. 

I watch him rush back inside the house with a pep in his step while I look towards the tree again and lean my entire weight against the trunk, breathing in the scent.

Chapter Text

I’m hungry—very, very, very hungry, as Grace would say. 

Super freaking and fudging hungry. 

I’ve drunk a jug of water that Armando provided me, and I received my daily shot from Grace before he left for his class. I spent the whole morning lying on Grace’s bed, on my side, while my stomach continued to rumble and the gnawing hunger became harder and harder to ignore. 

I have a feeling my stomach is slowly starting to eat itself, and that thought is a little scary as I lay in Grace’s bed, trying to imagine that my stomach isn’t planning a full-on collapse.

I haven’t left the house in a few days now, mostly because I feel embarrassed and scared to show my face to anyone. Rock comes by, but I mostly lock myself in Grace’s room (which also, somehow, has another TV—god, the Eridians surely love their savior, huh?). 

So I stay in Grace’s room, watching, reading, and sleeping. I only leave to drink water and bathe twice a day because I enjoy the feeling of warm water around me. Sometimes it gets so hot that I leave the bathtub steaming, yet my skin doesn’t even turn red from the heat. I don’t know why, and I don’t even want to know. 

Grace comes into the room to give me my nutritional shot—and god forbid, there’s also a new vitamin shot because Grace keeps mentioning how I’m getting paler and paler. 

Once, he made a move to tug on my hair, and I actually got a bit annoyed at that. I thought he was messing with me, but apparently, he was checking me for severe anemia (apparently with anemia, you get extreme hair fall… I don’t think he needs to tug my hair to see if that’s right if it’s “extreme” already.) 

He checks my blood, my heartbeat (which is weak, and even weaker at resting rate), and my temperature, which always varies between 29 and 35 degrees Celsius. I know that’s too cold for a normal human being, and I can see Grace getting more and more worried each time he checks. I’m a bit worried too—scratch that, I’m pretty worried. 

But I don’t feel like I’m dying—at least, I think so. I mean, this is better than getting boiled like a dying dog in a submarine full of boiling blood, right? 

Grace lets me borrow some of his clothes. They aren’t bad since the guy is a few inches taller than me, and most of his clothes have long sleeves. He has a few shirts, but they feature such terrible science graphic jokes that I don’t want to be seen wearing them by any surviving thing in this dome. 

So I just wear the hoodies that Grace rarely uses because, apparently, they’re too bland for his liking.

Grace also got me a heating pad to lay on so I can get warmer—it actually works because earlier, Grace checked my temperature, and I was between 36 and 37 degrees Celsius, moving between those numbers. I’m perfectly warm, and it makes me sleepy. 

Sleepy and hungry—those are the two things I’m getting used to feeling often. I want to sleep. Should I drink warm water first to push back the hunger? I probably should. 

I stand on my feet, the TV still playing, as I walk out of the room, moving toward Armando, who knows what I want and is already bringing out a large tumbler filled with warm water, complete with a straw that I can sip from as he hands it to me.

“Thanks,” I murmur tiredly, and Armando just does that weirdly funny side-to-side dance he does—almost reminiscent of how Rocky dances when he’s happy or excited. Basically, it’s how Grace acts when he gets excited; he starts jumping on his feet, tapping them, shaking his hands as he talks.

I crack a small smile at that and eye the front door, which wasn’t even properly closed. I sigh. Typical Grace, I guess—he tends to forget to close the door from time to time. I think I’ve seen him and Rocky argue about that often. 

I kinda miss it. 

Mostly because I’m always out cold, sleeping, or just too engrossed in what I’m watching or reading. Plus, the music Grace plays in his room is so loud that I can’t hear what’s going on outside (the music is apparently for me but I don’t think we have the same type of music… but whatever).

I walk toward the door, about to close it, when a dark blue clawed hand stops it. I can’t help but yelp loudly as the door swings open, revealing a tall dark blue Eridian with light blue, almost green, gems on top of its head.

The Eridian warbles, and I hear a voicebox. “Simon doing great. Question?” the Eridian asks. 

“I—uh... do I know you?” I respond.

“Am Adrian, Rocky’s mate. Rocky asked Adrian to look for Simon,” it says, and I feel my eyes widen a little. This is Rocky’s husband? Or wife? Or whatever? 

“Oh, I’m doing fine… Thank you for coming to check on me. You can tell Rocky as much,” I say.

Adrian lets out a happy warble and enters the house. I move back, and the door closes behind Adrian as it looks around the house, spotting the messy couch. It appears Grace just woke up and left for work without even bathing or anything.

“Grace’s home is messy, messy, and dirty. How does Simon live with such a bad roommate question?” Adrian asks as I snort at that. I move toward the couch, take the colorful blanket that Grace uses, and fold it in neat motions, fluffing the couch pillows as I let Adrian settle on the stone rock at the side, which I’ve seen Rocky use when he comes to visit.

“You get used to it—uhh, are you staying here?” I ask as Adrian warbles. “Yes, yes, yes! Adrian stay. Watch over Simon,” he says, tapping his claws on the rock surface underneath him. I let out a small ‘Uh’ under my breath as I sit on the couch, both of us falling quiet.

Adrian chirps a few times, “Simon sleep. Question?” he asks as I drink from the tumbler, sipping continuously. 

One thing I’ve learned when you’re stuck drinking water is that you just have to keep drinking until your stomach is full. Sure, you’re still hungry—food is different from water—but that doesn’t mean your stomach is empty.

“Yes, in a bit.” I pop the straw out of my lips as Adrian warbles again.

“Adrian watch Simon sleep,” he states confidently.

I nod unsurely at that. For a while, I’ve never really experienced the Eridian culture of being watched. Well, Chia watched over me, and Grace as well. But that was back in the Lab. 

Now, here in Grace’s house—well, Grace does watch me, but not like Rocky, who doesn’t even move away. Grace tends to do other things in the house and can’t watch me all day. I don’t think I’ve had someone watching over me while I sleep. I know Grace does; after all, Rocky does it for him.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

“Rocky says Simon sleeps like Eridians. Paralyzed, unable to wake up through stimulus. Just like us Eridians. I am annoyed that no one has watched over Simon until now,” Adrian states, letting out a noise that almost sounds like a sigh. I can’t help but chuckle at that.

“Grace does watch me,” I reply.

“Yes, but Simon sleeps longer than normal human sleep. Not like Grace. Like Eridians, but also not like Eridians. You sleep for a full 61200 seconds. Very long—longer than Eridians,” Adrian comments as I shrug at that.

That’s true—it’s… probably not normal, right? I don’t think I’ve slept this long, but it could be that I haven’t slept properly in ages and now that I can, I’m abusing that ability. But it doesn’t explain why I’m completely dead to the world when I sleep. I don’t dream, I don’t wake up to even turn on my sleep (according to Grace, Rocky, and Chia). I literally sleep like an Eridian who is completely paralyzed.

“Grace cannot watch Simon for 61200 seconds today. So Adrian will. Rocky asked Adrian to watch Simon,” he explains, and now I feel embarrassed that Rocky went as far as to tell his husband to watch over me after I did something embarrassing—like going ballistic on the submarine, hitting it again and again with a table, and screaming like a goddamn maniac, scaring half of the Eridian scientists stationed in this dome, as well as Rocky.

Wait. Does Adrian know about that accident? I hope not.

I continue to drink water before eventually, Adrian and I move toward Grace’s room to get ready for bed. I close the TV, shelve the books I have on the bed, and clean up the area. Adrian sounds pleased as I tidy the place before saying, “Simon rest now. Question?” 

I nod, plugging in the heating pad to let it warm up again.

“Hey, uhm… can you do me a favor? Can you unplug it after an…” I try to calculate the hours in seconds in my head. “Just say hour. Adrian understand,” he replies, sounding a bit amused as I flush.

“After an hour or two, can you turn the heating pad off? I just need to warm up,” I say, throwing the thick blanket over my legs. Adrian lets out a comforting hum as I situate myself on my side—I’ve always been a side sleeper; guess that didn’t change. 

But the fact that I don’t move in my sleep makes me wake up with an aching shoulder.

Should I also tell Adrian to turn me onto my back after a few hours? Nah—I don’t really want to make him do things like that. The heating pad is already a bother for Adrian. I can’t make him move me in my sleep like he’s my Eridian nanny; that’s probably Chia’s job.

“Rest easy, Simon,” Adrian says, and I hum tiredly. My eyes are already drifting shut the moment my head meets the soft pillow.

I let the darkness take over me. 

Well, hello, sweet darkness of mine, time to sleep again. 

The cold seeps into my skin, even with the heating pad, and I feel as comfortable as ever.

Now that I have someone watching over me (as strange as it sounds to have someone watching over you), it makes me feel safer.

—

The next time I wake up, there is still light outside the window, but instead of Adrian right beside the bed, it’s now Grace sitting in a plush chair, his blanket over his chest and his glasses knocked to the side, leaning over and snoring. 

For a moment, I lie there—my eyes threaten to shut again, but confusion wins because I thought Adrian was the one watching over me. Now Grace is here, it’s still morning, and I’m sure Grace has classes today, but he seems to have switched places with Adrian midway. 

I’m lying on my back—I think I was moved in my sleep, which was probably just a few hours earlier, right? It’s still morning. 

For a moment, I lay there before shifting onto my side again, feeling the pressure lift off my back as I stare at Grace’s closed eyes, his mouth slightly parted and his neck tilted back, his hair mussed up all over his eyes like a curtain. That probably doesn’t look comfortable. 

I sit up now and push the blanket aside. Now I notice I’m not wearing the faint blue hoodie; instead, I have on a loose shirt layered with a thicker, soft long-sleeve shirt underneath and soft pants. My feet feel tight, and I spot thick socks on my feet—two thick socks. Why am I wearing so many layers? 

Grace’s snoring is interrupted as he shifts in his chair, his glasses falling into his lap. I reach over to grab them before he moves again and fold them, placing them on the nightstand. 

Then I spot a small earth calendar that Grace has in his room. It automatically adjusts the dot to show the current day and month on Earth. 

And— 

I pause, looking at the date. That’s strange. I remember sleeping on the morning of February 28. Why does it say it’s March 11? I reach over to rub the calendar (maybe there’s something wrong with the magnet; Grace said it was powered by magnets and some kind of machinery I don’t understand), pulling the small magnetic dot to February 28, but it slides back to the 11 again. 

I try again, but it does the same thing. 

I lean back on my hand, confused. I reach over to give it another try, but in the process, I elbow the clock at the side, causing it to fall onto Grace’s feet. His eyes open as he processes the pain, and he yelps, jumping to his feet while his blanket falls over my face, causing me to grunt. 

“Ouch!” Grace shrieks, bouncing around the room a few times before he realizes I’m awake, and his eyes widen. “Si! You’re awake! Thank fudging god!” He hugs me tight, which surprises me a bit—just a bit since I’ve always known that Grace is a hugger. I mean, he hugs the Eridians, who have stones for bodies. They get a mean elbow(s) from time to time. 

I just let out a confused noise, not pushing Grace away as he sniffs, seemingly on the verge of tears. Oh god… This guy. 

I pat his back, unable to stop myself from rolling my eyes—but it isn’t really out of annoyance; it’s mostly exasperation. 

“What do you mean I’m awake? I just slept,” I say as Grace leans back, looking embarrassed for having hugged me and cried on my shoulder while wiping his face with his arm. 

“What do you mean, dude? You were literally asleep for twelve days! Twelve freaking days!” Grace exclaims, and I cough in response. Twelve days? Twelve days?! I was asleep for that long? 

“What?” I ask, coughing again. “Yeah, same reaction. You didn’t wake up for days, Simon. You were in a state of hibernation,” Grace explains. 

“Impossible, I know,” he adds as I open my mouth (I wasn’t even going to say the same thing). “Humans don’t hibernate; only animals do. In fact, hibernation happens to some animals to conserve energy, especially in food shortages, which makes me believe that this happened because you haven’t been eating anything solid and have only been using water as your food source.” 

Now Grace looks stressed, and I don’t really know how to help him with that. This all sounds pretty neat. I slept since I didn’t have food, and I don’t feel too hungry now. But Grace doesn’t seem to share the same sentiment because now that I’m awake, he’s in a state of panic, grabbing his glasses and blanket as he rushes out of the room. 

He comes back in, grabs me, and pulls me to my feet, and we make haste to the lab. I don’t even have time to remind myself that this is the same place where I literally decided to have a perfect mental breakdown in front of dozens of Eridians, and suddenly I feel hot all over when I spot Eridians stopping to watch Grace and me walk down the lobby toward the elevator.

“Okay, so we need a checkup. We need CT scans, MRIs, every kind of scan in this place. Don’t worry about radiation; astrophage is used for a better purpose these days.” Grace rambles. I didn’t even have time to think about the fact that those things emit radiation as I get pulled into a room where a group of Eridian doctors flock around us, chirping all at once. They have no translators, so I have no idea what they’re talking about. I’m led by an Eridian to a changing area to change into a white gown, and something is placed around my neck, wrist, and ankles (I assume it’s probably astrophage contained in a necklace-like object). In the blink of an eye, I get shoved into some kind of moving bed inside a tube-like structure.

Grace is talking with multiple doctors behind the reinforced glass as the bed moves inside without any warning, surprising me a little as I lie there. The tube is small, and I can feel my breath coming back to me as I watch the light move by me, starting from my feet and then up to my head. It does this a few times as I close my eyes, trying to stay calm. 

I don’t feel too panicked, which is weird. I never thought I would like small spaces—but maybe it’s just that I’m tired—and one knock away from falling asleep once more. And sleepiness wins over the need to leave the small space. So hurrah, that’s one thing I now know about myself.

I am forced to stay there for a few minutes, watching the light go back and forth. I think I fell asleep in the middle of it because I woke up to lights flashing in my eyes and Grace hovering over me, clearly worried, his face is pale and his brows are furrowed like he was expecting the worse. “Hey—Hey Si,” he says softly, tapping a finger on my cheek as I blink awake. 

I fell asleep again. God— It was good, though.

It took me a while to gather my thoughts and regain feeling in my body as Grace helped me back into my clothes. It should be pretty embarrassing; after all, he’s seen my itty-bitty bits. But then again, we’re both men, and he’s definitely seen his own private parts, so seeing another guy’s isn’t so different. 

We move to another room, and this time, I get stuck with multiple wires and stickers—the same ones I woke up with. My hair gets pushed back as Grace attaches a few wires to my head, mostly my scalp, and I get slathered with a strange, lube-like substance. 

If it weren’t for the door wooshing open and closing repeatedly, I might have fallen asleep. I notice a few Eridian doctors moving about, chirping and handing Grace multitudes of wires. 

“So what’s this for?” I finally ask, realizing it’s strange that Grace is so quiet—pretty weird if you ask me. He usually talks, mutters, and doesn’t really care about those listening to him because he just doesn’t shut up. 

I feel Grace freeze for a moment before letting out a shaky breath. I can’t see his face, but I know he’s pretty worried. I mean, I am too—but is it so wrong to sleep that long? (It is, yes. It’s wrong. I know that well—something is wrong with my body, but I have no idea what). 

“So, uh…this is what we call an EEG, or an encephalogram. Basically, what this does is we keep track of your brain activity while you sleep,” Grace explains. 

“So I sleep again?” I ask, tilting my head to look at Grace, who looks worried, and he nods. “Yeah, that’s the plan. But since you’re at risk of falling into a comatose-like sleep again, we’re planning something to make sure that doesn’t happen.” 

“Like what?” I ask. An Eridian enters the room, chirping, and adjusting something on its suit. Then a voice box sounds. “Savior Grace, I have come with the machine. Statement.” The Eridian says as I watch something get wheeled in, some kind of machine I have no idea about. It looks like it was originally created by Grace—I don’t know if it existed before or is something new.

“So, uh, basically the plan here is to wake you up with this. It’s essentially an electric shock, almost like defibrillation, but very different. Since those are used to deliver shocks to the heart. Look, I’m not a doctor, and as much as possible, I don’t want to use it. I just—uh, I recently made this with Rocky. He’ll be here any second. Just wait. But basically, when you fell into that comatose state, we couldn’t wake you up. And it’s possible that while you’re being tested for the EEG, it might happen again,” Grace rambles as I nod.

Okay… that sounds ominous, but sure.

Eventually, after a few minutes of waiting, with Grace moving around and pacing while biting his thumb, the anticipation came to an end as Rocky rushed in, looking frantic. “Rocky here! Start now question?” Rocky asked as I made a small wave-like gesture at him, and both Grace and Rocky moved beside me.

“Simon okay? Question?” Rocky continued.

“Yeah,” I murmured. “He’s been awake for 7 hours now. Though he still looks drowsy, we can do the test now. Both of us can watch over him as he gets tested.” Grace said—and here it is again.

The two of them talking as if I am not there.

It’s fine, really. It’s entertaining to listen to two smart people talk.

“Rocky thinks this is a bad idea. EEG is for brain activity. Simon sleeps like an Eridian, paralyzed. It will not work. Statement.” Rocky said. “Yeah, but the thing is Simon isn’t an Eridian; he’s human. That means he’s still like me. Sure, it’s strange that he falls into a paralyzed state, almost comatose when he sleeps. But it’s possible there is a problem in his body, and with the EEG, we can find out if maybe it’s his brain. Remember when he came here? He was filled with radiation; it’s possible we missed a few things and he’s got a brain tumor,” Grace explained.

Oh, that’s terrifying—a brain tumor? You can get tumors on your brain?

“Brain tumor? Reason Simon sleeps long? Question?” Rocky asked. “Maybe? It’s hard to say. That’s why we made this. We can’t keep him asleep. We use shock therapy to wake him back to the living if he falls into a deep sleep again,” Grace said.

“I’m fine with that,” I finally said as Grace turned to me, nibbling the bottom of his lip as he turned towards Rocky, who warbled lowly.

“Are you sure? We haven’t, uh—tried… it yet. Mostly we’ve got no one to try it on…” Grace shifted his weight nervously, looking a bit horrified.

Oh wow, so this is the sketch version—the trial and error. I’m getting good memories, really.

“It’s fine,” I said again. “Let’s just get this test done.”

Rocky and Grace glanced at each other, and for the rest of the hour, everyone set up the machine that I am now dubbing the ECT: the Electric Chair Torture. I’ve seen the electric chair used on a few inmates, some of whom were brothers of mine from Eden. I can’t say it’s the most exciting thing to happen.

They don’t really use the chair often, mostly just for the most heinous individuals who deserve the ultimate painful death because they refuse to listen or submit to the COI. It’s not pretty if they can’t find a purpose for you; they basically kill you because you’re a waste of resources.

Grace checked over the wires again, and Rocky double and triple-checked the ECT. The other Eridian doctors left, moving towards the reinforced glass, chirping as Rocky, with Grace’s help, attached a new set of wires, this time connected to the ECT.

“Your normal sleep time is 16 to 17 hours, but with the EEG, we’ll give you a maximum of 24 hours. Going past that, we’re going to have to wake you up. But with a whole day of testing, that also means we get a wide array of brain readings in case you actually, uh—have tumors in your brain,” Grace said slowly.

“Stupid Grace—Simon has no tumors. You’re scaring yourself and Simon,” Rocky said, annoyed, as I snorted at that. “Well, I can’t say I would be shocked if I do have brain tumors,” I tried to joke, but it fell flat between Grace and Rocky, who looked at each other. Rocky’s claws gripped the handrail he was holding beside Grace.

“Not a good joke. Statement,” Rocky said after a few beats, as Grace nodded. “Yeah, I have to agree. As much as possible, we don’t want anything bad to happen. Maybe this can also solve the food problem,” Grace said.

I swallowed at that. Yeah, okay. That sounds fair.

“Alright…” I said.

Neither Rocky nor Grace moved for a moment, and I thought I had done something wrong—or should be doing something. Like maybe giving them a fist bump before starting? Or maybe a prayer?

I had no clue.

“Hey, you’re okay… okay? I can’t—uhm. We can’t—lose you, man,” Grace murmured, almost a whisper, as he reached over to place a hand on my arm. 

He looked one push away from crying again, and honestly, I didn’t want a crying Grace right now. I could barely focus on keeping myself awake, so I just patted his hand. I hope it brings him comfort that I don’t really plan on keeling over anytime soon.

“It’s nice to have another human around here, even if you didn’t come from the same universe as us and are kind of changing all my worldview because of the wormhole theory. But whatever, what I’m saying is I want this to get better. And I want you to get better—I don’t… It’s been years since I’ve spoken to a human or been able to connect with one… so—yeah…” Grace said shakily.

Ah…

I see…

Okay—I know what Grace is talking about now. I feel him; in fact, I understand him. The lack of human touch—the need to talk and grow close to another human without getting hurt—I also wish for the same thing.

Apparently, Grace has been feeling similarly—not exactly like I do, but the same in that he’s been around Eridians for years, and the lack of humans around has likely driven him a bit crazy by now. I know I would have. I let Grace hold my hand, and as his fingers intertwine with mine, I notice his eyes becoming teary. He wipes them hastily, biting his lip, looking worried—and I feel a bit guilty that someone is so deeply concerned about my health. 

The last person who felt that way was my mother. Now it’s a human and an Eridian.

“Rocky holds the same idea. Simon is Rocky’s friend now. Simon can’t get sick—bad, bad, bad, bad. Can’t get sick like Rocky’s crew,” Rocky said.

“I won’t,” I tried to reassure him, letting Grace hold my hand tightly, as if I were on my deathbed, when in reality, I just want to shut my eyes. 

“Rocky apologizes for the mistakes made days ago,” Rocky says. I let out a confused sound at that. That almost sounds like blubbering. Why is Rocky saying sorry?

“Rocky believes it’s his fault that Simon got sick because of the ship. Rocky brought Simon to the ship, and now Simon is getting sick. Rocky thinks maybe it’s his fault. Statement,” Rocky explains, his body shuddering as I sigh. 

“That’s not true. It’s—not your fault—and I don’t think it’s connected,” I said, giving him a tired shrug. 

Rocky wiggles a little. “Rocky is forgiven; Simon is no longer angry. Question?” 

“I don’t think I was angry in the first place. You didn’t do anything wrong,” I said. I see Grace nudge Rocky a bit, muttering “I told you so” under his breath, and Rocky swats at him. “Rocky is happy,” Rocky warbles as I shoot a small smile at him.

Sometimes, Rocky is cute; sometimes, he’s the devil itself. Right now, he’s the former. 

I turn to Grace, then back to our hands. I see him do the same thing, and he lets go, his face turning red in embarrassment. 

I hear Rocky whistle and warble, his body shaking—almost like a laugh, though I don’t think the translator picked up his tunes, but Grace does because his face turns red again, and he shifts away. 

“Alright, let’s start the test. Come on,” Grace says, changing the topic as I watch them, leaning back and getting comfortable. 

The lights dim, and I watch Grace and Rocky leave the room, appearing behind the glass wall. 

“Doing good?” Grace asks through the microphone as I give him a thumbs up with my hand resting on the bed. Rocky copies it, but his claws give a thumbs down. I can’t help but make an amused face at that. 

I get comfortable on the pillow and tilt my head to look at Grace behind the window, who leans off the microphone, pointing at things and getting the other Eridians in the room to do something. 

I observe his hair, rumpled clothing, and tired face. Has he been sleeping? 

I guess I’m the only one doing the sleeping here. I hope Grace has been getting rest. It’s hard when this guy doesn’t sleep; he gets irritated at everything and is a person who can’t finish a single thing at all. 

“Hope you get some sleep too after this,” I say after a beat or two. I see Grace wear a small smile at that—a small flutter in my chest warms me at that sight, but I’m too tired to try to understand that feeling as my eyes slowly flutter shut. 

“See you tomorrow, Si,” Grace says through the speaker—while darkness creeps in, making me feel nervous, but Grace’s voice pierces through the shadows, giving me a bit more courage than usual. 

Time to sleep again. Hopefully, I don’t have to get electrocuted.

—

Contrary to popular belief, I did not get electrocuted. I woke up normally around the 24-hour mark, tired but well-rested.

The scans came back the moment I woke up, and it took me a while to gather my wits. Apparently, the results indicated that I had no problems with my organs, my heart, my stomach—everything was fine, really. 

While I was in the EEG, a blood sample was taken from me while I slept to be analyzed again. The results came back, and apparently, I’m still a very healthy man for someone in his late 20s. 

As for the EEG test, not a shred of brain activity was detected.

I was quite literally dead—dead, dead; no activity at all, not even a small one. I was a heaping pile of bones when I slept. I was, for all intents and purposes, dead to the world, both mind and body.

It was strange. Grace mentioned that this isn’t normal. I know that well, even if he doesn’t tell me. But I have no explanation. Could this be because of the blood I consumed from the blood moon? Perhaps it really changed something in me, and now I feel different, which makes me a little nervous.

How can one even explain that they drank a few gallons of blood from a blood ocean and likely became some sort of... monstrosity because of it? That’s why I'm sleeping so much and can’t stomach anything besides water. 

That's right, I don’t. 

I haven't explained any of this at all, in fact. I still haven’t told anyone why I was welded into a rusty bucket that I call the iron lung, and I don’t think I will. I mean, how can I even tell Grace? 

Sure, I could say I was sent on a mission under the blood ocean, but when he asks why… should I confess that I was a convict? Then he’d be housing an ex-convict? 

Well, forget about having a nice, quiet life here in Erid. There are already a few Eridians who are scared of me; I can’t make it worse by revealing that I was part of some kind of… brotherhood that bombed a station and killed nearly a hundred people. 

No. Just… no. I don’t think I can do it. It’s fine to be seen as this guy who is nothing rather than as a criminal and a monster. 

Unlike in my world, everyone here sees me as something good—and I don’t really know how to feel about it. It’s nice, I guess. I feel like it’s something I’ve wanted to experience ever since I was taken by the COI.

I’m not asking for much—just this peaceful place full of sentient rocks and a human teacher who talks too much with another sentient rock that is his best friend who also talks too much. I think it’s better if I don’t tell them about my past. 

I want a new blank page in this world. 

Sure, I failed to save humanity in my world—but it’s always been messed up, right? What difference does a black box make? It’s not like it’ll help us create a brand new planet, right? Right? I failed… but it’s fine. 

Besides, it wasn’t even my job to save the world. I was quite literally thrown into the ocean for it. Just like Grace, I was too deep into the mission to turn back. 

I wanted to live, but at the same time, I wanted to amount to something worth giving a life for—not just to be a brother of Eden, not just a convict, not just a butcher. I wanted to be someone who saved humanity. 

I’m not like Ryland Grace. I did not save humanity; I failed. I guess it’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t think I care that much anymore. Really, I don’t. I wasn’t too invested in it anyway. 

It’s okay that I failed. Hah… I guess this is what you call coping, huh?

Coping with the fact that I might have failed my own universe because I wasn’t anything; I wasn’t anyone. I wasn’t as smart as Grace or important like Rocky.

“Hey, what are you still doing up? I would have thought you would be sleeping right now.” I turn my head, the sand beneath me still warm as I see Grace walking by the shore. 

He’s wrapped up in a thick cardigan that he seems to like, with a thick sweater underneath. He’s wearing mismatched socks (again), even though I’ve organized his wardrobe with all the right socks paired together side by side. 

I guess it’s a style for him.

“You might get a heart attack if I sleep first again,” I say as I turn my gaze back to the ocean. Grace sits beside me, grunting and letting out a relieved breath.

“Yep, you know me so well. We’ve only been together for what? Two months?” Grace says with a wry grin. 

I don’t respond to that. Two months here in Erid, just two months of living in this world. That’s a long time. 

“I see… That’s… pretty long,” I mumble under my breath. I’m not really contributing much to the conversation; I just want to point out that I’ve technically been living here for two months now.

“Yeah, I suppose it is… I hope the place is nice. Even if we’re just stuck inside a dome. I mean, sometimes I can get out, but you know the xenonite suit still isn’t perfect. It’s hard to walk; it’s worse than wearing an EVA. At least I can sit down in my EVA, but with the xenonite suit, I can barely sit down.” Grace says—I think he’s whining; it’s hard to tell. 

This guy complains about everything, everywhere, and all the time. I’ve gotten used to it; usually, that’s what happens when you share a house.

My house is close to being finished. Rocky said it’ll be done in three human months, and that’s without furniture yet. I don’t really mind; I’m not rushing the Eridians to complete the whole thing.

 Grace likes his couch; I like his bed. It’s okay. It’s nice.

“What’s outside?” I ask, finally moving my eyes away from the waves and focusing on Grace. 

His hair is tousled by the cold breeze, his cheeks a little red. He’s not wearing his glasses, probably left them inside his house. His arms are wrapped around his torso, keeping his cardigan shut as he breathes softly.

“Well… heat… getting burned. You do know Erid is a place full of ammonia, right? So if we step outside, we’re basically roasting like a chicken. The xenonite suit can barely regulate the temperature, which is why we’re trying to find ways to make one so I can go out and… you know…” Grace makes weird hand motions that look like a ‘huzzah!’ I just give him a small shake of my head at that—neither rejecting nor agreeing, just an ‘okay, I see.’

“That’s nice. I don’t think it’s bad to stay here… inside the dome,” I say.

“Yeah, well, tell that to the countless Eridians who want to see me 24/7. I’m basically an idol here!” Grace laughs, and I just give him a look. “Well, you too, actually, but you barely leave the house. And after what happened in the lab—you know the Eridians were worried about you, right? They weren’t scared of you. They wanted to scrap the submarine because of your reaction to it. They were prepared to turn it into rusty small pieces. They really like you, man.” Grace nudges me with his shoulder, and I let him.

My face feels warm with that realization. I thought they were scared of me—or, I don’t know, avoiding me now. When I was in the lab, no Eridians spoke to me or chirped useless tunes at my face, even though they knew I didn’t understand a single thing they were saying unlike Grace.

I guess they were just giving me space after all. That’s strangely considerate of them. I guess it makes me feel better that they’re willing to scrap the iron lung because I wasn’t comfortable with it.

“It’s fine… It’s—stupid anyway,” I sigh, running a hand through my hair—it’s still getting longer. I should cut it back, but then again, it’s well taken care of now. Grace has a lot of… things I can use to maintain its health. Now, instead of being greasy, it’s just soft and fluffy.

I can see Grace’s eyes watching my hand in my hair, tracking the movement before meeting my gaze again. 

“It’s not. Sometimes fear is irrational, you know. Whatever you went through with the sub, it’s okay for you to feel scared,” Grace says. 

Is he using his teacher voice on me? I think he is. I drop my hand onto my knees, giving Grace a small amused look.

“What?” Grace asks, and I just shake my head, looking down at my knees and seeing my hands, which no longer look blood-crusted—not like when I was stuck in the sub. Grace did mention I was pretty much scrubbed clean when I got here; they might as well have skinned me with how thoroughly they cleaned the blood off. 

Mostly because I came from a submarine that had radiation levels through the roof.

We’re both quiet again. Eventually, we both lay down on the sand, looking at the dark, cloudy sky. My hands are on my stomach, while Grace has his behind his back, letting out a soft breath.

“I want to add stars. Like on Earth,” Grace says. 

“Stars?” I ask. I shouldn’t be surprised—there are stars here, after all. 

“Mhm. I have this ‘don’t go crazy’ room in Mary that has multiple videos of the stars, and I’ve been wanting to replicate it. But right now, the engineers and mechanics are pretty much focused on the fog machine. However, maybe… after that, I can add fake stars, familiar stars that you can see on Earth I mean.” Grace’s voice softens at the end.

“That’s nice.”

The stars that will be placed here on the dome may not be real, but they are real on Earth, miles away from us. “That’s nice,” I say softly, a small smile playing on my face.

We both fall silent again, just enjoying the night view of dark skies and muddy clouds, along with the sounds of the ocean waves by our feet. 

It isn’t like the sound of the blood ocean. The water is different—light, beautiful. The blood ocean is heavier and hot, and the smell... it isn’t salty and fresh like this one. It’s coppery; you can taste it on your tongue if you as much as open it. I mean, I could when I was under the blood ocean, inside the iron lung.

The drip, drip, drip of the water from the pipes—the drip noises of heavy blood—

I let out a breath. I shouldn’t think about it anymore. It’s in the past. No more aliens from the blood ocean, no more getting stuck in the submarine. Nothing followed me back here. It’s just me and that stupid metal bucket they have in the lab.

“Hey.” I feel Grace’s finger brush my ear, and I startle a little at that. Since when has Grace gotten so comfortable with touching me? Is it because I’m just letting him do what he wants?

I don’t respond, checking to see if he will do it again. 

He does.

He tickles my outer ear with his pointer finger, and I have no choice but to tilt my head and give Grace a look. The blonde grins at me, looking strangely proud. “It’s nice that you’re here; everyone loves you,” he says.

And I freeze at that—my mouth drying as I feel a rush of heat spreading to my head. I can almost hear the weak pounding of my heart behind my ears, and I must physically stop myself from talking, or I might embarrass myself by accidentally blubbering.

“Okay,” I say after a few beats, because what do I say to that? I think if I say something like “thank you,” or more than just that, I might tear up and turn into a mess of “leaky blobs,” as Rocky likes to call Grace—who cries on a daily basis about the simplest things ever.

What do I even say to this? That this has been my dream ever since I was a child? To be accepted and loved without being asked for anything? Is that even okay to say?

So instead, I just nod at Grace, who smiles at me, grinning from ear to ear, looking proud that he just said all of that sappy stuff that I must physically stop myself from tearing up over.

Okay, anyway, I’m going to look up at the sky so I don’t actually tear up. I look away from Grace and stare at the sky, my eyes brimming with tears—I can feel the heat behind them.

So I just close my eyes and pretend I’m enjoying the breeze. 

This is pretty nice. Erid is nice, and the Eridians here as well. 

Grace is nice too.

Chapter Text

There are days when the house is filled with music, with Grace dancing around and cleaning the place while I sit on the couch watching Star Wars (which apparently has a lot of parts as well as a series? And that is all according to Grace, and he has seen every one of them). This leads to me watching Grace dance with a broom, singing into the neck of it. 

It’s pretty entertaining to watch; I almost forget that I was actually watching something on the screen and just accept the fact that Grace’s music is louder than the speakers of the TV. I end up watching him dance around the living room, accidentally stubbing his toe a few times and tripping over the coffee table. 

He’s making more mess than cleaning, but I’m not going to say that to the person who owns the place where I’m lounging. I just keep quiet, even when Grace turns to me, singing along to the music and dancing around amusingly. His notes are completely off and don’t even align with the music he’s playing. 

I know for sure Rocky would hate being here. 

“So, I made this thing. This one already pretty much existed on Earth, but look here.” Grace starts, sitting in the chair in front of me as he shows me a new tumbler. This time, he’s inserting something over the nozzle where I usually lean over to drink. 

“It’s fruit-scented. Basically, it’s fooling our brains into thinking we’re drinking juice. Try it.” Grace hands it to me, and I smell citrus as I drink. Somehow, I feel like the water I’m drinking starts to almost taste sour. 

How the hell— 

“How?” I pop the straw out of my mouth and give Grace a furrowed look. I had to open the tumbler to check if it’s still water—yep, it is. 

“It’s the smell, my dear Watson.” Grace says, looking proud (I finally understand his references). “So, aside from fruit, you can also add other smells, like… actual food smells?” I ask, drinking more of the water. 

It feels a little pathetic that Grace went as far as to make me something like this because I can’t stomach anything that isn't water. 

“Yep, but that doesn’t mean we’re stopping until we find a reason why you can’t eat.” Grace snaps his fingers at me, and I snort. 

He’s doing too much for me; I don’t know why. I’m fine with drinking bland water that ranges from cold to warm and even hot. I don’t think I even minded it in the first place. 

“You don’t have to do this. You’re wasting your time.” I say, as Grace waves a hand at me, looking like he’s tempted to grab my lips and tie them in a knot. 

“No way, man. We’re doing this because we want to, not because we have to. The sooner we find the reason why you can’t eat normal food, the sooner you can gain weight. You’re getting lighter and lighter. It’s getting worrisome.” Grace sighs as I look at my hand. 

It’s not that much of a change. I think I’ve been more hydrated here than ever; I barely got any food or water back in the COI cells. They were all timed and properly measured so that no resources were wasted on us inmates. 

So if anything, this is too much for me already. He’s doing a bit too much, but I don’t say that. Grace gets excited when he gives me something new. 

He goes to his class after that, leaving me alone in the house. I don’t sleep this time—in fact, I haven't been feeling tired or hungry at all. 

Maybe Grace’s hibernation theory is right—but I’m not an animal, but you know, it’s whatever. The alternate universe feels crazier, but I’m choosing to believe it. Why can’t I believe in the hibernation theory? 

Grace keeps the ECT around just in case I fall into a deep sleep again, but lately, I’ve been sleeping a normal eight human hours, no longer oversleeping for half a day. 

I walk around the shores after I take a bath, play around in the ocean, kicking the water that ranges from cold to warm, and enjoying the sunlight. I see a few Eridians walking by and heading towards the Lab, chirping at me as I hesitantly wave at them, and they always cheerfully do the same. 

I guess there’s no more problem with me and them now, right? I hope so. 

I want to visit the Lab and the botany garden that Grace has been talking about. So I do; I follow a really tall eridian who chirps at me and opens the door for me with some kind of small screen in their claws—maybe it’s the lock to the Lab. It makes sense; it’s inaccessible to outsiders just in case Eridians who aren’t meant to be here get inside the dome. 

“Botany garden?” I ask a random eridian who chirped and pointed toward the elevator, then pointed a claw upwards. 

Okay. I can work with that information. 

I hitched a ride with a couple of Eridians who were walking to the elevator. I had to physically squish myself into the corner of the elevator to give more Eridians space as I stood there until I reached the very top of the lab.

The elevator door opens, and I see a large area full of trees, or at least half-grown trees in soil, with sprinkler systems and solar panels (as Grace explained) above them to flash a much stronger light if the fake sun above isn’t enough. The ceiling is made of glass, and there are a few Eridians walking around, checking each tree. 

And wow—there are… a lot of trees. It makes me feel slightly emotional that they were able to do something like this on a planet that can’t even nurture Earth life. I don’t bother any Eridian and just walk around silently, looking at the trees. Not all of them are the same; some look smaller, some larger. 

They are green—so green, like Grace’s original tree at the back of his house. This all came from branches? I didn’t even know that was possible at all. In fact, I had no idea you could take a branch from a tree to grow another tree. Maybe it wasn’t; Grace and the Eridians just found another way for this to happen. I look around more. 

The Eridians don’t seem to mind me hovering over them, watching their work or touching the leaves of a few trees here and there. There is even a green Eridian who handed me some gloves and a mask. I’m not sure why, but I put them on anyway. 

Maybe it's to keep the trees safe and healthy. I watch the Eridians work; they all seem so eager to care for these trees. I mean, I am too—pretty eager to watch the trees. 

The botany garden here smells fresh, and the place itself is large. There are a few rooms where the Eridians enter to learn more about the trees; they cut them into pieces and study them while I watch from behind the glass. 

“Simon feeling fine. Question?” I hear a familiar voice and the familiar high trill of notes as I turn to see Adrian. 

He works here? 

“Yeah—uh, do you work around here?” I ask, surprised as Adrian wiggles a little at that. “Adrian works here. Adrian works in lab,” he says, pointing a claw around the place as I nod. He’s a scientist like Grace then. “Oh—okay—okay, that’s amazing… Uhm, trees, they’re good,” I say awkwardly, pointing at the trees as Adrian lets out a happy croon, motioning for me to follow him as he walks away—and wow, he’s fast.

The last time I spoke to him was before my coma—not coma—and he wasn’t really given the space to run around in Grace’s house. If anything, he seems kind of relaxed. Now he’s running around, showing me things about the trees, the upgrades that Adrian helped with, as well as the fact that Adrian plans to make a Great Tree that they can station here in the small Earth dome and out on Erid, where it can survive their atmosphere. 

I listen to Adrian talk and explain everything, how the systems work, the sprinkler, where they get the water, and so on. I try my best to follow, and I’m a bit thankful that Adrian might be dumbing everything down for me so I can easily follow the conversation and ask the right questions when he starts losing me. 

Even if he’s losing me, I don’t think I’d actually admit that. It’s a bit embarrassing that everything he’s telling me feels a bit elementary, and here I am having a pretty hard time understanding the processes. 

We eventually fall into quiet as I watch Adrian study a sample branch from an older tree in the garden. I like it here; it’s peaceful, and there are so many trees that I can’t count them on both hands and feet. I like everything around here, even if we’re just inside a dome that has fake Earth things. 

I sit on a stool, looking over Adrian's shoulder—erm, do Eridians have shoulders? I mean, they have five legs—arms—hands. Whatever. 

“So what do you see?” I ask, looking at Adrian. “Tree is healthy, very, very healthy. Good, good, good. Plan to see how tree fares in Eridian atmosphere,” Adrian says, and I nod at that. I watch him for a while, hearing him trill and croon. The translator doesn’t pick it up, but I don’t mind; I think he’s just making noises—like a human humming basically.

“Oh yeah… uh, congratulations… with the baby—with Rocky,” I say awkwardly as Adrian pauses, his claws on the handrail as he turns to me. “Rocky tell Simon. Question,” Adrian asks. I nod, “Yeah, he mentioned it to me that he’s pregnant.” Adrian seems glad at that, wiggling where he stands excitedly. “Adrian happy, Rocky tell Simon. Grace knows Rocky carry offspring and became leaky. Simon leak too. Question?” Adrian asks.

I laugh at that—snorting. Me crying? I mean, well, I do cry, but I’m not dramatic like Grace. Did he really cry because Rocky is pregnant? God… 

“No, no, I’m not going to cry, but I am really happy for you and Rocky. So I want to congratulate you,” I say as Adrian lets out a happy croon at that. 

“Adrian also happy. Rocky been gone for many, many years. Adrian sad and believed Rocky died along with crew. Could not get a new mate. Adrian loves Rocky very much, Adrian could not do well without mate. Life lost meaning.” Adrian says, and I nod empathetically at that.

It must be hard for Adrian to think that his husband died… I can’t imagine loving someone whom I believe could be dead. I think I'd go crazy. “Well, it's great that Rocky is alive, huh? Now you guys get to have a family. I’m happy for you two,” I said with a small smile as Adrian cooed at that, making jazz hands as I awkwardly copied him, shooting him a nervous smile.

Adrian let out a few notes that sounded like a laugh or a giggle, and I snorted at that. 

“Simon and Grace, mate. Question?” Adrian asked, and I blinked at him. 

I must have heard that wrong. “Is the translator broken?” I pointed at the black clip on Adrian’s suit as he tapped it with his claws for a moment. “Translator works great. Adrian asks Simon and Grace if mate,” he said, and I cleared my throat, making an 'ehem' sound. 

That’s awkward. 

Is Adrian asking that since we’re the only humans in this place, and somehow being called mates is the most obvious thing in the world?

“Uhhhh, as far as I’m concerned, no. No,” I repeated, feeling like I was standing on uneven ground as Adrian chirped sadly. “No mate, why? Question,” Adrian asked, making a sound that resembled a sigh of disappointment. “Grace has been lonely for many, many years. In Mary, Grace has Rocky. But that’s not enough, not human. Now in Erid, much lonely. But Simon comes and now Grace is very happy. Why not mate question?” Adrian continued. 

That’s a lot of words—it took me a while to process the whole statement and the question afterward. 

Uhh, why not mate? That’s a really… really unnecessary question, I think. 

“No idea,” I replied. I felt a bit embarrassed talking about this. I don’t really like discussing people behind their backs. Maybe it’s part of Eridian culture to be very, very nosy, considering they can hear everything in this dome. 

“Simon wants mate Grace. Question?” Adrian asked. 

“No,” I said quickly, as Adrian chirped. “Lie, lie, lie, lie; Simon likes Grace. Like Adrian likes Rocky. Mate, mate, mate,” Adrian said, letting out a loud note of laughter. 

I’m being teased by an alien spider rock. This can’t be happening. I do not like Grace. I admire him, yes; he’s a good man, much better than me. But I do not like Grace or want to be mates with him. Is that hard to understand? 

Oh God, maybe I need to get out of here. 

Adrian looked like he was having fun teasing me, and it felt completely unfair. “Grace likes Simon, yes, yes, yes,” he said. 

“Grace doesn’t like Simon. No, no, no,” I replied, sighing and breathing through my nose as Adrian chirped, laughing at me. My face felt a bit warm as I rubbed my face with the palm of my hand while Adrian continued to bother me about Grace and being mates. 

The trees were completely forgotten. 

I said I liked it here in the botany garden—scratch that; I hate it here.

—

I wake up. There is no more light outside the window, and I’m lying on my side. For a moment, I’m a bit confused about why I’m awake. I slept around midday and didn’t join Grace for dinner (I still can’t eat; it’s just for pretense, and I think it helps Grace eat more than normal if I’m there for some reason).

I slept much earlier, which is why I guess I’m awake now. For a moment, I lie there, staring out the window at the fake moon they created for the dome. Grace’s room is bathed in faint yellow light, not fully dark (mostly because I hate too much darkness, and Grace has overhead lights that don’t bother my eyes most of the time).

Eventually, I turn to my other side to check the time. It’s past midnight, and now I’m awake. My sleeping schedule is completely messed up, and as Grace mentioned, I need to reset my sleep. This means I seriously need to do something important around here to keep myself busy and stop sleeping so much.

I stand from the bed, groaning a bit when my shoulder creaks—this is what I get for being a side sleeper. With the new upgrade that leaves me paralyzed while sleeping, I can’t even automatically move around in bed. I’m like a big piece of stone (joke not intended for the Eridians, I swear).

The house is dark; only the kitchen is bathed in soft yellow light. I wash up in the bathroom—just a shower, not a long bath in the tub. It wakes me up even more. I drink a lot of water that Armando handed to me, the tumbler scented with apple as I drink from it. My hunger abates for a while as I turn toward the living room, which is darker than the rest of the house.

I walk toward it for a moment and see Grace on the couch, sleeping on his side with his back facing me. Papers litter the coffee table, along with a half-finished coffee mug and another empty mug beside it. There are a few scattered bits of paper on the floor, which I pick up and shuffle into a stack.

The papers are notes—I try not to notice how my chest warms at the sight of them. They are all about trying to find the reason why I can’t eat normal human food. It’s all about me…

It makes me feel a bit flattered but also worried that Grace is spending too much time on this. I don’t think I’m that important.

I don’t know how they’re supposed to go, so I hope I’m not messing with anything as I clean the coffee table. I grab Grace’s blanket from the side, flipping it open and draping it over him, leaving his head poking out, his blond hair standing up in all directions.

Between the couch cushions and his face, I can see his glasses trapped there. I swipe them up without him waking and place them on the coffee table with the others. I take the two mugs and let Armando wash them clean in the kitchen. Then I decide to sit on the other couch and watch Grace sleep.

This is how Eridians do it, right?

I would have thought Rocky would be here, but then again, he’s nursing a kid, so maybe he’s with his mate. That means no one is here to watch over Grace.

I guess I’ll take on Rocky’s position for a while until he has his kid.

It’s not weird, right? I mean, Grace is fine with Rocky, so surely he’s fine with me doing this for him? Grace already does it for me (granted, it’s for my health, not really for comfort), and I don't think Grace would keel over and die all of a sudden.

But I just want to repay Grace for watching over me and trying his best to make me comfortable here in this place while I do nothing but turn into a couch potato.

I really need to get a job. Anything, really, at least to be of some importance in this place. 

I’ve been here for two months, close to three now. I can’t just do nothing at this point.

I look around the living room, eyeing the mess on the shelves that didn’t even last a day or two after Grace had cleaned it; it’s back to how it was. 

I cleaned the house until the sun came up, sweeping the floors while Armando watched me. The robot helped me here and there, but mostly it was just me. By the time Grace woke up, Armando had already prepared his breakfast, and I was sitting on the other couch using Grace’s laptop to watch a documentary about animals.

He told me it was fine to use, even his headphones, and since I didn’t want to bother him, I did just that. I brought the inner blanket from Grace’s room and draped it over my head so I wouldn’t disturb him with the bright light from the screen.

“You’re, uh, already awake,” I startle to hear Grace say as he pushes back the blanket on my back. 

I let the headphones fall around my neck as I look at Grace, who moved, his eyes bleary and half-awake. His hair is even worse in the morning, standing up in all directions, and his eyes are squinted as if he’s trying to see if the blob sitting on the couch is me.

“Good morning," I greet him as I see him rub his eyes, look around, and spot his glasses by the coffee table. He places them on his face, squinting at me. “You’re already awake. And using my laptop… and headphones,” he says.  

“You said I could borrow it… and I’ve been awake since 1 AM. I’m watching you sleep. Like how the Eridians do it. Rocky isn’t here to watch you,” I explain.  

For some reason, I feel pretty nervous saying all of that—I feel like I’ve done something very, very wrong. But Grace doesn’t seem weirded out or concerned. If anything, he seems flattered, wearing a small smile on his face that’s borderline turning into a grin as he sits up.  

Suddenly, I feel a bit embarrassed. “You look cozy. Watching on my laptop… wearing my headphones… and look, you’re even wearing my favorite hoodie that I somehow forgot existed. Is that my pajamas? I thought I lost that in Mary or forgot to bring it down,” Grace says as he sits up. I blink at him, slowly shutting the laptop. I feel like I’ve done something wrong—“Wait no, you can continue what you’re doing—I, um—gotta eat breakfast and take a bath,” Grace says, grinning nervously as he taps his socked feet on the floor while I watch him, blinking slowly.  

Okay.  

I watch him look at me, grinning as if he’s thinking about something I seriously cannot read. He slides on his sliders but trips on the coffee table, letting out a yelp and wearing an embarrassed look on his face as he gives me a grin while walking away to the kitchen, slipping a few times as I put the headphones back on, flipping the blanket over my head and staying there for a few hours.  

I can hear utensils clattering and Grace talking to Armando, then footsteps stop close beside me, but I don’t flip the blanket off again; I know for sure Grace is there.  

Then I hear him take a bath.  

After that, I clean up, putting the blanket back in Grace’s room, and charging the laptop and headphones by the nightstand. I come back to the living room, meeting Grace halfway as he exits the bathroom, a towel around his neck and his face flushed from the warm bath.  

“Oh hey, you’re done doing... uh... stuff?” Grace asks, looking a bit nervous rocking on his heels as I nod.  

“Are you going to have class today?” I ask him, and Grace gives me a confused look at first before snapping out of it and nodding.  

“Yeah, yeah, I am. Why?” he asks.  

“I haven’t been doing anything; I want to come with,” I say, and Grace's brows shoot up in surprise.  

“You do?” Grace asks, sounding genuinely surprised that I’m interested in him teaching kids. Is it weird that I want to come? I just nod and make a shrugging motion as Grace seems to consider it before nodding.  

He grins. “Okay.” 

—

Eridian children are not for the weak. Grace mentioned on the way that years ago, his classes would be conducted with the children placed behind reinforced xenonite walls, where the class would sit inside a cave while he taught them. But since the Eridian scientists created the new and safer suits they wear, the children asked for those as well to be able to get closer to Grace.

They were... a lot. I’ve never been a person who's good with kids; I was able to move around them, but kids don’t really like me. And I don’t really want to know why; it might just hurt me a bit if I do.

The Eridian kids are called pebbles. Well, in English, they're called pebbles, but the actual Eridians call them something different. Grace chose "pebbles" because it's cute and fitting. I have to agree as well.

Anyways, back to what’s happening. I actually have no idea what’s going on. I’ve become Grace’s teaching assistant; I was introduced as much. The Eridian children are all excited to see me, and none of them wore a translator, aside from the heavy laptop screen that Grace has at the side of the cave showing what they say. 

But they talk all at once, making it impossible to follow, so I learned a new tactic: smiling and nodding—doing that repeatedly whenever they talk to me while Grace addresses other children, telling them to form groups while they all flock around his legs, excitedly tugging at his pants and running around.

“They’re a bit hard to control from time to time; it got worse when their parents let them use the suits. Sorry about this,” Grace said as I tried to help him organize the groups so they could finally start their work. Apparently, aside from just science, most Eridian children like art... or, I suppose, creating things like sculptures or carvings. And while Grace isn’t an artist, he is also covering that part in his teaching materials. “They’re very excited to meet you; they always ask for you,” Grace said when a few more Eridian children flocked around me this time, trying to climb over me. 

And god—they are very heavy. I don’t think I’m weak, but the lack of food gets to you, and I don’t think I can carry a 200-pound rock that wriggles and moves when I try to carry them. So in the end, the group work changed into just them piling around me while Grace used a whiteboard to teach, walking around and talking.

I was supposed to be the assistant. But I guess, in a way, I became a cushion for the kids. They’re heavy and very—very warm when together (almost hot), but I don’t mind. The class lasted almost two hours, and at some point, my back started to hurt with all the arguments between the Eridian children about who gets to lay half of their body on my lap. 

Grace probably felt sorry for me halfway through because he made everyone take a break and let the children run around the shore and jump in the water. “Well, that went well,” Grace said as I stood up, stumbling a bit. The feeling in my legs was completely gone; I might as well have cut them off and I wouldn’t feel a single thing. 

Eridians, children or adults, are still pretty heavy. They’re rocks, for godsakes, and I’m a squishy human—both Grace and I are. “You okay?” Grace placed a warm hand on my shoulder as I gave him a look that I hoped conveyed, ‘Do you think?’ He responded with a wincing laugh, patting my back and rubbing it for a few moments until he stopped, as I gave him another look. He then stepped away, fidgeting with his hands.

“The kids love you, Si, but you know you have to stand your ground. It’s okay to tell them no so they know what your boundaries are. Eridians love to... you know,” Grace made motions with his hands that looked like his hands piling on top of each other. 

“They pile for comfort, and they think it’s fine with you. They tried that with me as well, and well—almost broke a leg. Rocky wanted to take away the suits from the kids, but I had to stop him since I can’t really blame the kids; this is probably their first time meeting aliens like us.” Grace shrugged. 

“Get it, we’re the aliens since we’re technically on their planet?” Grace grinned, snickering as I just gave him a slow blink at that. “Okay, tough crowd,” Grace joked, making a sad, pathetic face as I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at him while he grinned again.

We both turned towards the Eridian children, watching them loudly whistle as they laughed and swam around in the shallow waters, letting the waves take them and roll them back to the shore. “I see why you like teaching so much,” I eventually said as we walked down the steep hill and to the shore to watch over the kids. It was obvious by now that they weren’t going back to class; they looked too absorbed in the fact that Grace had let them swim in the ocean.

I find a rock I can sit on, letting Grace follow and sit beside me. We both sit close, our hips flush as Grace wiggles a bit and twitches like he’s not used to being in one place. He rocks his leg, shaking mine as I sit there, watching over the Eridian children.

I eventually get tired of all his twitching and kick him lightly with my foot. Grace stops moving, looking extremely embarrassed as I give him a tired look. Can’t I sit in peace without anyone rocking their leg and shaking me?

“Do you always move this much when someone is close?” I ask, and Grace winces. “Sorry—I guess… Still not used to being able to… I don’t know… touch someone?” Grace winces again. “Sorry, that sounds weird—I didn’t mean to make it sound weird," he corrects himself.

I get it. Grace is… well, he’s just like me in that I seek out a specific thing from the people around me. He wants touch, and I guess I want people to see me as Simon, not the butcher, not the convict.

“I guess it’s nice I have a fellow human here… in Erid. I said what I said in the lab; you’re a good guy, Simon. It’s great to have you here. It does sometimes get a bit lonely when you realize it’s just you in this place among other species.” Grace shrugs, leaning back on his hands.

Yeah… I agree with that.

The time inside the sub was nothing but a nightmare. But at the same time, I felt like even if I were taken out of the sub, I wouldn’t experience anything close to what I am experiencing now with Grace, Rocky, and the other Eridians in this place.

I would still be treated the same—as trash, get hurt, get spat on, you know, insane things that I wouldn’t even wish on the people I hate (kind of).

So I guess… I understand Grace.

I like it here, and I know for a fact if someone tries to take me away, I’d be screaming and yelling. I want to stay here, with these Eridians; I don’t need other humans… well, aside from Grace. I think I’ve gotten too used to all his rambling and talking about things I can barely understand.

It’s white noise at this point.

Right now, I’m just Simon with no last name, a guy who came from another universe, welded inside a rusty submarine and was taking a bath in hot blood, discovered by a bunch of Eridian scientists and a single human from the planet Erid.

And I’m happy with that. Is it selfish of me to actually want to stay here? Shouldn’t I be fighting to go back to my world?

I—honestly, I don’t know anymore. I wanted to save humanity; I wanted it more than to just live. Now I live, but I failed my people…

I didn’t get the black box to the surface.

The black box…

Is the black box still inside the submarine? What if Adrian, Rocky, or worse, Grace gets a hand on it? Would that mean they would see everything? All the pictures, the audios…

I’m worried—

“Hey, you still there?” Grace knocks his feet onto mine, shaking me back to reality as I startle, turning to him and just realizing that he’s been watching me all this time. I lower my hand, which I’ve somehow started biting again (I guess it has been a habit I’ve had since I was a kid; it was just a matter of biting my nails, but now I’ve come so far as to peel my skin. It’s disgusting, I know, but I feel soothed from it from time to time).

“Don’t do that.” Grace motions with his mouth as I lower my hand to my lap. He’s giving me his teacher voice again; I don’t know if I should feel a bit offended.

“Not a kid,” I retort, but Grace just grins before he bumps his shoulder against mine, and I let out a breath through my nose. This man is touchy.

But I let him.

“Believe it or not… I like it here too,” I finally say, and Grace brightens up at that. “Not planning to go home anytime soon, huh?” he jokes. Not like I can get back at all. But knowing Grace, he’d try if I tell him yes.

And… I don’t want to.

“Hey! Andrea! Just along the shallow water, no going to the deeper parts!” I flinch when Grace yells, standing up as the Eridian—Andrea—chirps and swims back from almost the deeper parts, jumping onto one of the other Eridian’s back happily. They all roll around in the sand as I watch them, feeling a strange calm.

Grace sits back down, now a bit calmer now that the kids are in the shallow parts. “God, they’re harder to control than the kids back on Earth; at least there they listen. Here, it’s hard to make them listen.”

“You don’t say,” I reply blandly as Grace snickers. He then claps me on the back and stands up, stepping away as he calls the children. I sit there with my hands on my lap, feeling the remaining warmth from Grace.

My stomach rumbles again, and I sigh internally—hungry again, water again; life is back on track. I look up at the sky, staring at the artificial sun. For a moment, my vision blurs, and I have to look back down and shake my head, hoping the disorientation will pass. My left eye feels like sand has gotten into it, so I rub it, but my vision continues to spin and move from side to side.

That’s normal, right? I tend to experience these lapses in vision rarely here when I look at things that are too bright. It’s probably because I’m still not used to the brightness in this place.

I rub my left eye a few more times before eventually joining Grace and the other children by the shore. The moment I step closer, I get splashed from head to toe. Grace was already wet—now it’s my turn.

I sigh internally and accept my fate.

—

It’s night again, and once more, I am pretty much awake. After Grace’s class, I had time to sleep, and Grace watched over me while he did his... whatever science project he’s working on. He actually offered to let me sleep on the couch, and for a moment, I wanted to reject it since I preferred the bed. 

But he went on a tangent about how I needed new scenery for sleeping—I have no idea if that’s even important considering I'm dead asleep and it wouldn’t matter if I slept on the couch or the bed. Eventually, I agreed because Grace can get borderline whiny if he doesn’t get what he wants.

So, I slept on the couch while Grace sat on the floor by the coffee table, already at work. It didn’t take me long to fall asleep. Around dinner time, I woke up to find Grace by the coffee table eating his dinner, not even bothering to switch to the dining table and instead just bringing his food to the coffee table for some reason. 

I was wrapped in Grace’s colorful blanket, with another pillow placed under my neck and another under the back of my knee. Apparently, my comfort is very important to Grace. 

And eventually, here I am—the one watching over Grace as he sleeps on the couch this time. I drank some water, took a nice warm bath, and got Grace’s laptop and headphones, spending my night sitting beside the couch where he is sleeping, wrapped in a light blanket while watching videos about a woman caring for plants all night. 

It was nice. The house is warm at night, and I’ve wrapped myself in a light blanket; the living room is bathed in a very faint yellow light. Grace is lying on his side, facing my back, and I can feel his breath heating up the back of my head along with his loud snores that jump from being quiet to sounding like he’s choking on some kind of bone. 

I turned around a few times to look at him, a bit worried that maybe he was actually choking, but he’s just a serial snorer. God. 

Anyways, back to the video, I guess. The night was peaceful. I cranked up the volume on the video because Grace snores a bit too loudly, and I debated moving to the other couch to save myself the pain of being snored on. 

But… well, this is the same place where Grace stayed the whole time while watching over me, and I guess I should repay him by doing the same thing. 

“Mfffphh.” I blink a little when I hear Grace make a sound, moving the headphones back to look at him. His snores have lessened; he’s still breathing, and his brows are furrowed. His hand, which is curled under his cheek, is twitching slightly. The sigh almost reminds me of a child; he looks almost innocent. 

I stayed still for a moment, the video paused as I stared at his face. When Grace didn’t move or make a sound, I went back to watching. 

Grace moved around on the couch, and I paused the video again to look at him, seeing him turn his back to me. A pillow fell to the side, and I crawled over it to pick it up and place it under my knees as I listened to Grace’s breaths again. 

“Mmmphm hmmmph… ball—mshhh… Rocky?” Grace blubbered, his voice half-asleep, and I couldn’t help but furrow my brow. Does he think I’m Rocky, or is he dreaming? 

“It’s Simon,” I said anyway, just in case. 

Grace didn’t respond. So he’s dreaming… okay. I shrugged at that and went back to watching. 

It was still midnight, around 3 to 4 a.m. I didn’t think it was Grace’s time to wake up yet. He has classes from 9 to 11, but since the Eridian children like it, he sometimes extends it up to 1. So, I usually catch him waking up around 8, which is considered late, and 7 if Grace is feeling a little excited to start the day, which I think is always.

I continue watching before I hear sniffing. I pause the video again and finally set the laptop aside, letting the blanket slide off my shoulders as I stand over Grace. 

And there I see it. 

He’s crying—or at least tearing up. Tears are pooling on the pillow underneath him; his eyes are still closed, but his chest is shaking and his breaths are trembling. The way he cries is controlled. 

He’s not awake—he’s definitely asleep because I tapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Grace?” I say softly at first, but the small poke turns into my palm resting on his shoulder as I push him onto his back and fix his posture. He’s still crying. 

I’ve always kind of known he’s a very empathetic person, and I’ve seen him cry—mostly happy tears—from time to time... but never this. Never tears of sadness. 

It makes my chest ache. “No… no,” Grace mumbles, tears still falling down his face as I wipe them with my thumb and give him another gentle shake. “Grace, you’re dreaming. Wake up.” I tap his cheek lightly, unsure of what to do. 

“‘Don’t wanna go… killing me… you’re killing me!” Grace cries, pushing me away. I dodge back in surprise as he starts to twitch and fight the air. My hands are up, unsure of what to do, as I stand at the side. 

“I don’t want to die,” Grace cries, moving as if he’s trying to push someone away. He rolls again—almost to the edge—so I quickly move to catch him, grabbing his wrist to stop him from accidentally hitting me. I move it back to his chest. “Grace. Grace. You’re having a nightmare. Wake up,” I say as calmly as possible. 

But it doesn’t look like it’s working. 

He’s crying much louder than before, kicking his legs. A few pillows fall to the floor, and his legs get tangled in the blanket. I hold his wrist gently as he cries out, trying to push me away. “Don’t send me off... please... don’t send me off. ‘M scared. ‘M scared,” Grace continues to sniffle. I have to physically bite my lip to stop myself from telling him that it’s okay to be scared and that he’s very brave. 

But he’s asleep, and he’s probably having the worst nightmare ever. Words won’t help. “Grace, it’s okay,” I say again. 

This time, I don’t say anything more. I hold Grace’s wrist in one hand as he continues to twitch and fight me back. As quickly as possible, knowing I’m not really as strong as Grace, I grab his blanket and wrap it around him, forcing his arms to stay against his chest as I secure him in the warm fabric. 

Grace is still crying—but it’s lessening as I make him comfortable. I gather all the pillows that fell on the floor and prop them under Grace’s feet, giving him another fluffy pillow under his head to make him more comfortable than ever. 

Tears are still falling. 

I make sure to wipe them away with my hand, as gently as possible. “Don’t wanna die... don’t send me off to space... so scared... Rocky...” Grace sniffs, turning his head to the side. His lashes flutter as his eyes move beneath his closed lids. I kneel beside the couch, unsure of what to do next. 

I’ve made his space as comfortable as possible. I wrapped the blanket around him to stop him from hurting himself. He’s getting quiet, but he’s still crying. 

What should I do next? What would my mom do? 

When I had nightmares as a kid, she would just hold me and run her hand through my hair. She’d always laugh about how short my hair was; that’s one of the reasons I let it grow as a teen—so she could do that to me, and it would feel much better. 

Grace’s hair isn’t long, but it isn’t short either. I think I can do what Mom used to do for me. 

I don’t know if I’m breaking Grace’s boundaries because he’s never explicitly said he has one. 

But, 

fuck it. 

I inch closer to Grace’s head and lean on the armrest near the pillow underneath him. He’s still crying, mumbling words under his breath. I wipe away the tears again and shush him before running my hand gently through his scalp. 

For a moment, I stop when Grace ceases crying. It’s instantaneous—like my hand running through his hair instantly calmed him. 

So I do it again, and again, and again. Grace’s shaky breaths slowly calm down, but I don’t stop. I’m worried that he’ll have another bad dream. 

I kneel beside the couch, running my hand through his hair. 

I don’t know for how long, but I think midway, the calming and repetitive motion, as well as the softness of Grace’s hair under my fingers and the warmth radiating off him, lulled me to sleep. 

I didn’t even have time to remove my hand from his head before darkness took over me.

Chapter Text

I wake up on the couch; the house is empty, and the clock says 11 AM. It's obvious that the house is empty because Grace is at his class. I see a glass of water by the coffee table and a sticky note with "Sleep well ;)" written on it as I sit up to drink. 

Grace’s blanket pools around my lap—  

Damn, I fell asleep. I was supposed to watch Grace sleep. He had a nightmare, and somehow, in my dumbassery, I fell asleep too. How does that even happen? Here I thought I had my sleep schedule right. 

I drink all the water, feeling a bit refreshed as I fold Grace’s blanket and place it over the backseat of the couch. I give Armando the empty glass and tidy up the couch. 

I take a short bath, mostly to warm my slightly cold skin. I’m getting colder again; is that normal? Should I get another check-up? It’s a bit worrying that I’m abnormally cold from time to time. 

Well… time to bring out the heating pad again. 

Look, I’m not a guy who turns small problems into big ones, and I feel like the cold issue is easy to fix with just a simple heating pad. Granted, the last time I used this, I fell into a week-long sleep, which… isn’t normal. 

But when have I been normal? There is nothing normal about where I came from and where I am now. 

So, if anything, being under 35 degrees Celsius seems like a pretty simple thing. I crank up the heat in the house and prepare the heating pad while I make sure the house is at least decently clean—no random socks that might send me and Grace tumbling down the wooden floor anytime soon. 

I rummage a bit in Grace’s wardrobe, finding a soft sweater and putting it on over my shirt, then layering another hoodie above it. I wear some comfortable pants that haven’t seen the light of day in a while. I find a few socks that had rolled under the cabinet in the wardrobe. I grab those and put them on my feet. 

This is a bit too reminiscent of what happened weeks ago… Should I be nervous? Am I like those bears in the documentaries, preparing to hibernate because of the lack of food? 

I should say "Oh no," but I’m seriously tired. 

Oh! Is that a scarf? I duck into the wardrobe and find a thick knitted scarf—it looks multicolored. Whoever knitted this clearly had a lot of different yarn and didn’t care which color went first or last. I stare at it for a moment—I don’t think I’ve seen Grace use this one. He has a lot of knitted cardigans and sweaters, but I’ve never seen this one. I hope it’s okay if I use it. I’ve always liked having my neck wrapped. I slowly place it around my neck, and it doesn’t take long for me to enjoy the soft fabric against my cheek. 

I close the wardrobe door and breathe out. Let’s hope that I don’t sleep too long again. I’d rather not see Grace crying and thinking I’m dying. 

Aaaaaand to sleep I go, hoping to every kind of God above that I won’t fall into a coma—slash—hibernation again. 

Good luck, fellow people across the universe. I’m Simon. Having just woken up earlier, I’m going back to sleep again. Next time I wake up, I’ll genuinely think about asking Grace what I can do to contribute around this place. 

I leave the door open, lay on the bed, and slide under the blanket, making myself comfortable. 

It doesn’t take long for me to fall asleep at that.

—

“Hibernation. Question?” I hear a voice as my eyes flutter open for a moment; it looks like I’m awake. The ceiling is white—familiar white, not the wood ceiling from Grace’s home. I’m in the lab. It seems someone moved me from Grace’s house, and I feel a bit cold—and someone changed me out of my clothes too.

My vision is a little bright, and I can’t see much as I blink the tiredness away.

“Eye movement detected.” It’s Grabby. I hear footsteps and the tapping of claws on the floor as I finally see Grace peering down at me, his face worried. His hair is tousled in a way that suggests he’s been running his hands through it again and again.

“Hey,” Grace says, his voice shaking a bit, as I let out a small hum, my eyes shutting for a moment—

I shake myself awake at that, seeing Grace looking over the side as if he’s observing something.

I turn my head to see a screen. I see wires attached to my head again. “Thought you’d shock me awake if I fell asleep for too long?” I finally ask; my tongue feels heavy—now I’m worried about how long I’ve been asleep this time.

Grace looks back, giving me a small shaky smile. “Rocky and Grace try, Simon not wake up. Grace worry, worry, worry. Rocky worry, worry, worry, worst.” I see Rocky climbing the handrail at the side to peer over the bed again as I let out a breath at that.

Right, okay.

I did fall into a long sleep again. Ugh. That’s really not normal, huh?

I see Grace muttering under his breath at the side. I also notice Chia and a few Eridians entering, wheeling things inside the room, chirping at Grace, who just waved them away a bit rudely. I almost want to point that out, but my tongue is so damn heavy, and I can’t even poke Grace at the side to warn him because my arm feels heavy too.

“So what’s the verdict?” I ask again. Rocky twitches at that. “No verdict, no answer,” Rocky answers for Grace, and I let out a shaky breath. “Rocky and Grace believe Simon hibernates like other mammals from Earth because of the lack of food in Simon’s body. Perfect amount of nutrients and vitamins, but not food. Trigger hibernation. Impossible for humans, but possible for Simon. Maybe humans in another universe are different. Question?” Rocky tilts his body as a question.

Yeah, no, humans in my universe are the same. Nothing is different. No one falls into a full-blown coma just because they can’t eat. Usually, what happens is they die. But with the technology here, I’m kept alive and pretty damn healthy if you ask me. My stomach isn’t shrinking, and while I’ve gotten used to the emptiness of my stomach, I’m still pretty alive.

“No, not different, pretty much the same,” I finally say after a few moments. Grace comes back beside me, his face pinched. His hand taps by my head as if he wants to say something, and I pretty much want him to spit it out now.

Now comes the pretty important question.

“How long have I been asleep?” I finally ask.

Rocky and Grace look at each other at that. Rocky lets out a warble—the translator cannot pick it up. “Uh.” Grace sniffs, slipping his glasses down to his nose at that, “Just say it.” I say as Grace rocks on his heels (haha, get it, rock?).

Grace swallows, shrugging. “Pretty much almost two months,” he says as I almost sit up in shock, but I make a flopping movement that nearly pushes Rocky off the bed. He holds on as Grace pushes me back down onto the mattress. “Don’t panic! I mean—we’ve passed the panic stage!” Grace says, his voice panicked.

I almost want to point that one out. “I think I deserve the right to be shocked and panicked considering I fell into a two-month coma,” I flatly state, and Grace flinches at that, nodding as he runs a hand through his hair—my stomach churns in guilt.

Grace looks wrecked and tired. Rocky warbles sadly. “We cannot find a solution,” he croons mournfully as I shakily press my hand over his head, and Rocky just leans into it. “Adrian also helps, but no answer. Simon is very healthy, but no food means Simon falls into a very deep sleep. Electric shock does not work at all,” Rocky explains again as I sigh.

Well, crap.

I knew it—the alien monster in the ocean must have given me some kind of sickness that I don’t know about. It’s something that the Eridians' advanced technology can’t even detect.

Whatever this is, I can’t eat, I sleep too much, and I’m too cold. I can’t see any options for what sickness this could be.

“Is it radiation?” I ask.

Grace sighs. “Not radiation, trust me. I’ve checked a hundred times. We basically have hundreds to thousands of files on you now trying to find the answer to what’s happening. Whatever is going on, it’s some kind of sickness that we can’t detect. It’s not some alien bacteria or even a human sickness. I would have contracted it as well,” Grace says.

Oh shit, I didn’t even think that I could accidentally pass whatever I have to Grace. Damn it. I’m such a stupid idiot.

“I didn’t even think of that,” I said softly, but Grace just shot me a smile. This time, he reached over and ran a hand through my hair, being careful of the wires on my head. 

“Yeah, me neither, bud.” Grace replied as I closed my eyes for a moment, enjoying the warmth from his hand.

“What do you think the problem is? You mentioned it might be my brain… What if it’s some Eridian sickness?” I asked.

“Not Eridian sickness. Adrian and many doctors tried to find answers. It doesn’t come from Erid. Maybe… it comes from Simon’s world,” Rocky said as I tried not to look nervous at that. 

It’s definitely the blood ocean, right? 

Shit.

Grace must have noticed the fear on my face because he moved closer. “You know something?” he asked. I didn’t answer, giving him a side-eye look, trying not to appear guilty, but I think I wasn’t able to mask it well. “You know something,” Grace said again, this time not as a question, as I nibbled on the bottom of my lip.

“I’m not sure… I mean—uh.” I swallowed nervously. “Where I come from, there are moons… Uh.” I didn’t know what to say without revealing too much about what I did.

“Those moons have blood oceans in them, and I was one of the people sent down to check if there were any living life forms in the blood ocean.” I said hastily, providing just enough information to be self-explanatory.

Grace’s eyes widened. “Hence the blood in the submarine…” he said. “Did you find anything there?” he added as I looked between him and Rocky.

Should I tell them? 

If I don’t, I might die in my sleep because of it. “I—I saw a few… they weren’t like anything you’ve seen. They were aliens… like Rocky—well, not exactly like Rocky. But they were monsters… They chased after me and punctured the hull of the ship… That’s why the blood got in.” I swallowed as Grace fell into a contemplative silence.

I didn’t want to explain how they all looked; I hoped the word “monster” would be enough for them to understand that it was pretty damn scary.

“The blood might have the answer,” Rocky said. “Adrian kept blood,” he added.

He what?!

I felt scared all of a sudden. “You did? What? Why?” I couldn’t help but raise my voice, causing Rocky to flinch. Grace focused back on the conversation. “Fuck—sorry,” I mumbled, to which Grace just rubbed my shoulder. 

“Rocky forgives. Simon did nothing wrong. Adrian kept blood for learning. Adrian wanted to try to use blood as fertilizer for saplings. Adrian tried a month ago. The tree died,” Rocky said, his voice trailing off as I felt my heart sink.

“The blood got in you,” Grace said. I looked at him, seeing his pale face. “I mean—I didn’t think you would have consumed it—I was positive you didn’t! The research with the blood yielded different outcomes for you. You’re very healthy, Simon. The tree showed signs of toxicity; whatever was in the blood, I think it’s some bacteria that killed the tree in just a day. It’s not the same as you,” Grace explained.

I wanted to tell Grace that yes, I had bathed in the blood, drank it, licked it—I'd had it in every crevice of my damn body. 

I had no choice but to breathe it in. 

“Tree and Simon are very different,” Rocky reminded Grace. “No panic, Grace,” he said as Grace flinched when Rocky tapped his claw on his elbow. Grace looked at him and nodded.

“Then we take the project from Adrian and check the blood. Easy as that, right? It’s possible that the blood made you sick and is slowly killing you, slowing your heart and stopping your brain activity,” Grace said.

“I knew it; I should have been the first one to take a look at it,” Grace exclaimed, snapping his fingers, clicking his tongue, looking one step away from beating himself up as I sighed.

It’s not really his fault—I guess it’s partially, largely my fault for hiding things from him, just because I didn’t want to taint the Simon they know with the Simon from the other universe.

“It’s okay,” I said, swallowing nervously. 

“Not okay,” Rocky insisted angrily as I looked at him, surprised. “Bad, bad, bad, bad. Simon might die like Rocky's crew or Grace's crew; we will find a way to fix it. Rocky and Grace will fix Simon.” Rocky tapped his claws on the handrail angrily as I waved a hand at him, feeling a bit amused. 

This might be the first time I’ve seen Rocky get angry, and it’s towards me and not Grace.

“Right, thank you, you two—really, I mean you didn’t have to do this,” I said shakily. Grace shot me a glare. “Don’t kid around, man; we can’t just let you die,” he insisted as I shrugged helplessly. People from Eden and COI might have.

I guess they aren’t the same (not that I see the people here the same as those from my world, but you get it).

“Still… thanks,” I sighed.

It didn’t take long for Rocky and Grace to fall into work mode after that. “So we need to get some samples from Adrian’s lab. Uh, Jayce, can you go page Adrian right now and ask for some of the blood samples? Tell him to be extra careful. Chia, can you call Kate and let her know we’ll be tubing Simon?” Grace moved around.

Ugh, not the tubing. “Is that really necessary?” I asked, not really wanting a tube down my throat and into my stomach.

“Very necessary. Everyone must prepare for Simon to fall into a long sleep again,” Rocky said as he climbed down the handrail after Grace, who was already typing something on his laptop, ordering the Eridians scuttling on the floor.

“Okay, fair… but can you at least do it when I’m asleep?” I asked, biting my lip. 

“Are you falling asleep?” Grace asked, looking worried as he walked by me after pressing something on the keyboard, a hand on the handrail as I shrugged.

“I don’t know; I might come and go—how long is it going to take for you to find a solution for this?” I asked.

Grace rocked on his heels at that. “We don’t know yet… hopefully under a month. But… we might be dealing with a new kind of strain; we may have to quarantine you just in case,” he said, his voice shaking as he spoke. 

“The whole lab gets quarantined,” I said slowly. 

Grace sighed. “It might. The Eridians here might get stuck until we find a reason and answer for what’s happening.” He palmed his forehead.

I let out a shaky breath at that. 

Well, fuck. 

“You ruin everything you touch, Simon.”

I closed my eyes as I heard the familiar voice of one of the Sisters from Eden. My hands curled into small, weak fists as I breathed out. “But we don’t know for sure yet, okay? If it were contagious, we would have had it by now. For now, we can dub it the Coma Sickness until we find out why this happened,” Grace said.

He was falling back into work mode again, and I could see he was eager to start working.

A few Eridians entered, and I noticed Adrian following. My eyes felt heavy; I didn’t think I could even say hello to Adrian at that moment as Grace looked at me. 

For a moment, we were both quiet as he grabbed my hand and took it. His hold was tight, and for once, I was thankful he was such a touchy person. “I—uh, wake up, okay?” Grace said shakily. I could see his eyes getting a bit teary, reminding me of the night he had a nightmare. 

My chest ached all of a sudden. 

“Make sure to wake up, Si.” Grace rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand as I nodded. “I’ll try,” I joked. 

Grace gave me a wet smile. “Sleep tight.” 

I didn’t have time to say a retort because my vision turned dark, my hand still held by Grace.

—

I wake up, more tired than ever. It’s dark, and a weak beeping of the heart monitor is beside me. The way I woke up is almost reminiscent of the time I first woke up here. Except it was pretty bright then; now it’s dark.

“Eye movement detected,” Grabby says as it moves. There is a large mask over my face as I stare up at it—where’s Grace?

I look around without moving my head. I wonder how long it’s been since I last slept. I feel like it wasn’t that long. I try to move my fingers.

“Hand movement detected,” Grabby says again, and I hear a loud whoosh of the door and footsteps echoing. “Hey.” I finally muster a bit of strength and turn my head to see Grace; he looks half awake. His shirt is rumpled, and he’s wearing some kind of white coat. He has a mask on, and his hair is sticking out at odd angles.

“Mmpf.” I say—I forgot I have a tube down my throat. God, thank goodness for painkillers. I can’t even feel it.

Thank goodness!

I wiggle a finger, and Grace doesn’t waste any time sliding his palm underneath mine and holding it. “It’s been a week,” Grace says, and I almost let out a sigh of relief. Not another few months. God. That’s good. That’s good.

I just hum in response as Grace falls silent.

I eye him again.

“So we’re working on the blood you came with. Since you said the blood came from the blood ocean, we’ve been looking into it. It’s… uh—it’s alive,” Grace says. I blink at that. Damn—

“It’s alive and it responds to humans. I wasn’t really there when you were cut out of the sub, so it was the Eridians who got you out. We never found out that the blood responds to humans. It responded to me and was alive and strong enough to crack a normal glass tube. Right now, we’re using reinforced xenonite, and we’re sure that it won’t go through that. We learned enough because of the Taumoeba,” Grace explains.

I try to swallow, but my throat just constricts around the tube in my throat, and I have to shut my eyes because I might genuinely gag.

Grace doesn’t talk right away, not until I open my eyes again.

“It’s a living organism; it dies at lower temperatures but somehow can live again if you heat it up. It’s not normal blood, Simon. It’s something else. It doesn’t need a body to live. It’s definitely human blood, but much different. We’re still trying to find a way to see if this stuff is in your blood. And we’re planning to get some from you again,” Grace says as I let out a shaky breath, releasing a small groan.

Well, that’s another freaky thing down. I should start making a list.

“But overall, we’re making good progress. It responds to human blood. I tried it with mine, and it looks like it consumes blood… even though it’s blood itself. That’s what we’re trying to find out.” Grace says.

I nod slowly at that.

Well, that’s good. That’s good…

“We just have to find something that kills this thing, and it won’t be long before we find a way to cure you,” Grace says, his hand tightening over mine as I nod again. If I didn't have a tube in, I would have said “good job.” But since I do, I just give Grace a thumbs up, and he chuckles at that, his voice sounding a bit wet.

He grabs a stool from the side and sits beside me.

“I’ll stay here until you fall asleep. It’s been a while since you’ve been back home, and… I guess I’ve missed you. Three months already. I’m getting really lonely, Simon,” Grace jokes.

I give him a deadpan look at that.

I doubt he needs me; his house is always a mess, after all. Grace is a really bad roommate who leaves socks on the slippery wood floor.

Grace doesn’t speak after that, just watching me.

And I’m watching him. Something inside me hopes he stays even if I continue sleeping. But since he’s trying to find a way to fix me, he needs to work. And since he needs to do that, that means I get left here.

At least Grabby is with me.

“Rocky gave birth a month ago,” Grace says, and I startle at that. Rocky did? What? Last month? And I wasn’t there?

That’s not fair. Grace must have seen my annoyed face because he laughs as he rubs my arm, avoiding the IV line—multiple IV lines, actually. Damn. Wow. That's a lot of puncture holes.

“Do you know Eridians have kids in five to six? That means they have six little nuggets now. No names yet, but they’re… really a handful,” Grace chuckles.

Now suddenly I feel guilty for forcing Adrian and Rocky to work to find a reason why I’m like this. Grace must have seen my apprehension because he rubs my arm again, and I shoot him a look.

He’s getting very handsy—

Grace stops, but I have enough strength to grab his wrist and stop him. “Mmmf.” I try to talk, but it’s just a muffled sound as I hold onto Grace’s hand—my hand shaking from exertion as Grace lets out a shaky breath and lowers my hand back down to the bed, still holding it.

We both fall silent.  

“Will you wake up soon again?” Grace asked when he saw me blinking slowly. The darkness pulled me back down again as I let out a puff of breath or two and nodded at him, squeezing his hand twice to indicate yes as I let the darkness engulf me once more.  

“The light... It illuminates. It blinds. It thinks. And therefore, we are.”

—

I wake up this time—but this time I don’t open my eyes because it is bright. It’s a normal brightness, but it hurts my eyes—not just a normal hurt, either. It feels like my left eye is burning, and I don’t know why. I don’t even want to try opening it again. Actually, scratch that; I want to itch it.

I force myself to move and scratch my left eye, but something is around my wrists—both of them. I open my eyes, hissing at the bright light from the large window, and tilt my head down to see that my hands are bound to the bed. What the fucking fuck? Oop, that’s a lot of cursing at once. I would have probably been told, “Language,” by Grace if I said that out loud. Thank God for the tube, I guess.

Is that normal? Why am I tied up? 

“Body movement detected,” Grabby says above me as I look up, feeling a bit shaken by waking up tied down. 

Why am I tied down? I want to ask, but the tube is still down my throat, and I let out a strange keening sound as I cough and gag, trying to move my hands. They can barely leave the surface of the bed; the whole bed shakes as I try to move. I wiggle my feet—they’re also tied down. 

What in the fuck again? Why am I tied down? Isn’t this unsafe? What if a fire starts, and I can’t get out? 

This is— 

I struggle again, panting and groaning. 

“The patient is tied down for safety,” Grabby says, stopping me when I try to push myself up. I pant as I lay back down. 

Safety, my ass; this is more like a safety hazard. Did Grace do this? Rocky? 

How many days has it been since the last time I woke up? 

I struggle again, groaning and tugging at the binds. “The patient is tied down for safety,” Grabby says again as I groan and slam my head back on the pillow beneath me, giving up. Welp, time to accept my untimely death. 

I won’t say I told you so. 

I stare at the ceiling, waiting for somebody to come in, but no one does. I try not to let it get to me. 

It’s too bad no one came; I don’t know how long it has been since I last woke up. But it looks like I can’t ask anyone. I fall back asleep.

—

“Wake up soon.”  

“Wake up…”  

“WAKE UP!”  

And I did. I opened my eyes again, and I saw Grace looming over me, his face smiling. “Hey,” he said. I still had a tube inside my mouth, so I gave him a half-assed thumbs-up, my eyes blearily opening and closing weakly.  

How many days has it been? Has it been days? Or weeks? Worse, months?  

“Good?” Grace asked. I just hummed, still half asleep.  

I had just woken up. I hoped that Grace wasn’t about to talk my ears off. Grace moved closer—not before being pushed away by Rocky, who climbed the handrails. “Simon awake!” Rocky said excitedly, almost bouncing as I just gave him a small grunt, trying to pat one of his arms. But the binds around my wrists stopped me.  

Grace must have noticed me looking at it and him.  

“Oh, that—uh, basically…” Grace started. “I don’t think you remember, but…”  

Rocky butted in, “Simon woke up and tried to get out,” he said.  

Well, I didn’t remember that. That’s for sure. When did that even happen?  

I looked at Grace and shrugged. Grace raised a brow. “Don’t remember?” he asked. I just shook my head. Hell if I knew; I didn’t think I remembered trying to get out. I barely had any strength to even raise my head. When did I even wake up and stand?  

“Okay…” Grace said, letting out a nervous breath. “That’s normal. Sometimes this happens. But it’s fine. Uh… we haven’t found a cure yet; we’re still studying the blood.” He wrung his hands.  

“Grace found that blood from the ship, and Simon’s blood is one and the same,” Rocky suddenly added.  

I gave them a look at that.  

Grace gave me a tight-lipped look. “Yeah, about that. Whatever this thing is, the blood from the sub and your blood—it’s the same. And I know it didn’t come from you. You had no wounds or any injuries coming in after all when you were taken down here,” Grace explained.  

So…  

I wished I could just tell Grace to get to the point—sometimes he just goes round and round on the topic. I tugged at the bindings on my wrists to catch his attention. Grace looked down as I gave him a raised brow.  

“Right, to the point,” Grace coughed, turning red. “Whatever entered your system is already inside your blood—but me and the other scientists think, and uh—some doctor believe the blood from the sub is the one keeping you alive right now. We found a way to kill it.” Grace said as I watched Rocky jump down from the bed and grab something from the side before he came back with a tube. It looked like black goop.  

“Astrophage. We found it by mistake, but the way the blood from the sub acts—the astrophage and the blood fought, they were quite literally eating each other. So there we found a way to kill the blood. The only thing is that—it also… kills your blood,” Grace said.  

“Who knew these little horny bastards have more than just two purposes aside from being our fuel and providing protection from radiation?” Grace commented.  

I blinked at that.  

Okay…  

Recap: they found a cure, but the cure might kill me? Oh…  

That’s…  

“Rocky and Grace will find a way to fix Simon. Close,” Rocky said as I let out a hum at that. I didn’t exactly feel disappointed, but I felt guilty and bad; I felt like I was leading them on. They were putting in a lot of work for a dying man.  

No normal people would do this—not humans, not aliens.  

“Yeah, what Rocky said. We’re really close. As in, I can feel it! Also, you’re waking up faster. That means it won’t be long until you’ll be back on your feet and moving around.” Grace said as Rocky wiggled excitedly. “Eridian scientists and I found a way to lessen the effect. The cure won’t kill Simon and he can finally eat!” Rocky happily moved his arms and wiggled as I hummed at that.  

Well, I didn’t doubt they’d find a way.  

I just wished it wasn’t to this extent.  

They were doing a bit too much.  

I didn’t know if I deserved all of this. And I wanted to ask Grace why. Why were they going this far to help me? I could see a bit of the room, and I noticed a small couch at the side where Grace’s blanket was placed along with a couple of pillows.  

He’s been sleeping here, watching over me…

—

It took a few weeks for me to return to a normal schedule again, and taking out the tube was painful. I was still forced to stay in the lab because Grace wanted to keep me close while he found a proper dose for the cure.

He wasn’t lying when he said that my blood, along with the blood from the sub and the astrophage, was killing it. It was like watching two colors being dropped into pure water and observing them mix. It felt as if my blood itself was sentient, like it had life… 

Life… 

Like those aliens in the blood ocean. Grace isn’t asking about any of them, but I have a feeling he wants to. He isn’t just touchy; he’s nosy as well. And I want to tell him too. But how do you explain that there’s an alien life form on the moon you got thrown into? 

And no, they aren’t kind like the Eridians. In fact, they are sons of bitches who killed multiple people before me. It spoke to me and made me go through hell and back. I wasn’t just fighting my own people; I was battling alien life forms beneath the blood ocean as well.

I felt like one of the unluckiest bastards in the entire universe, not just the world. Why can’t I be like Grace, who has his own Rocky? Out of everything I find, it’s an alien that wants to eat me, that wants to consume me. 

“So, look at this.” Grace pulls me as I follow behind him. I feel better now; I can finally walk around again after sleeping on and off for almost four months (god, four months… that’s a lot of time, fuck). 

“This is a microscope. You can look through this.” Grace shows me the eyepiece as I peer into it. I see black dots moving around. “What’s that? It’s moving,” I ask, leaning back as Grace grins at me. 

“It’s astrophage,” he replies. 

“But I thought they were just black goo,” I say, confused as I look back through the microscope again. 

And wow! They really are moving. Are they alive? This is interesting. “Well, they are black goo, but they move. Isn’t that cool?” Grace asks as I lean back again to meet his grinning face. His cheeks are flushed, and he looks excited. 

“You look excited,” I point out as Grace grins. “Yeah, I mean, you’re going to get better now; we got an answer. Well, kind of—we got a cure, but not a full answer yet. But like astrophage, whatever is in that moon you were in has living organisms and human blood in it. In fact, scratch that—the ocean you’re talking about is human blood itself. And it’s alive,” Grace explains, rambling as I nod at him. 

“Heard of a pleco fish? On Earth, we call them janitor fish. Basically, they eat all the garbage and somehow don’t die. In fact, you can throw them on land, leave them to dry out, and they’d breathe again once you get water on their gills. It’s almost like this. The blood we got from your ship can’t die, not unless we throw astrophage in there. Like pleco fish—cut them in half, and they die. Well, it’s pretty simple; anyone who gets cut in half dies. But whatever.” Grace continues. 

I just nod at that. 

“But I still can’t explain how that blood ocean exists or why astrophage would want to consume this blood. I mean, one thing I can say is that it’s boiling hot at room temperature. But you can freeze it, unlike astrophage, where the temperature doesn’t change even when you freeze it. It’s still blood. But it’s hot enough that the astrophage can use it to breed.” Grace hums, pinching his chin in thought as he stands there, placing a hand on his waist while I stand beside him a tad bit awkwardly. 

I don’t think I can add anything to the conversation because I don’t understand a single thing at all. 

“Astrophage doesn’t respond the same way to my blood; I’ve tried, but it does respond to yours and the sub’s. That’s why I deduced that your blood and the sub’s are starting to become the same thing. But your blood isn’t boiling hot, unlike the one from the sub. Should I name the blood at this point? I can’t just keep calling it blood. Take a shot every time I say blood,” Grace continues to ramble quickly as I sigh, pinching my nose at that. 

“Maybe you need a rest,” I finally say. Grace’s eyes widen at that, and I can finally see the dark smudges under his eyes and the tired, slow blinks he’s doing. His hair looks greasy, as if he hasn’t taken a bath in a while. 

He needs to rest. 

He’s doing too much for me. 

“What? No way. I’m close. Look, test number 2760—your blood isn’t clotting and dying anymore with astrophage. Ta-da.” Grace shows me a tube, but I can’t even understand what I’m looking at, so I just look at it and pretend to be interested, nodding as if I understood it and looking at Grace. 

“Time to rest then,” I say. 

Grace almost drops the tube at that; he nearly stumbles over the table in front of him. I grab his arm to stop him from falling, and he lets out a nervous giggle. “Sorry about that—yeah—you’re right, but… I’m close. I just need to finish this, and you’re practically cured. It’s like I found the cure to cancer,” Grace shrugs. 

I just give him a look at that.

“Rocky here to save the day!” Rocky comes crashing through the doors with a whoosh, happily spinning around and landing on both of our legs. Grace and I almost fell on top of each other, but somehow, we managed to catch each other. 

Grace lets out a choked noise at our closeness, his face turning a shade of maroon in embarrassment. He looks wide awake now as I mutter a small apology; Grace does the same, his words stumbling out. 

As I move back, I pause when I smell a familiar scent—blood—the coppery scent. It should make me nauseated, but my stomach grumbles, this time painfully, as if it's telling me to eat, eat, eat, eat. I physically freeze as I stare at Grace's face, my eyes moving towards his neck. 

For a moment, I can feel and hear the rushing of blood behind my ears. Not my blood. Grace’s blood. My mouth salivates, and my vision darkens at the corners. 

Consume. Consume. Consume. 

I’m so hungry. So…. So... hungry. I want... blood... 

So hungry... Consume it. Consume it. Take. Take. Take! 

“What are Simon and Grace doing now? Have they finally made the cure? Question?” I snap out of whatever I’m falling into as I turn to Rocky, almost stumbling back. Grace reaches for me, but I gesture for him not to touch me, causing Grace’s face to pinch in both confusion and hurt as I cough into my fist. 

“I, uh, no, not yet, but close. It won’t be long; we’ll be killing whatever virus he got from the moon he came from,” Grace says as I stand a few steps away from him and Rocky, hearing how loud my heart is pounding in my ears. 

“Good, good, good, good. Rocky happy! Celebrate! Simon will meet Rocky and Adrian’s offspring soon when he’s feeling better. Happy, happy, happy, happy.” Rocky croons, jumping excitedly as I attempt to flash him a smile. 

But for some reason, I just feel cold all over. 

We cleaned around the room for a while before Grace goes back to looking like he’s once again half asleep, and Rocky and I had to drag him out of the lab and back home. 

“I’ll watch Grace sleep,” I finally say as we lay Grace down on the couch. “Is Simon okay enough to watch Grace sleep? Question?” Rocky asks, turning to me with a soft croon. 

I shrug a single shoulder. “Yeah, basically,” I respond. “Has Simon not slept for a long time again question?” Rocky asks. 

“I won’t; you, Grace, and all the Eridian scientists you’ve got around here found a cure, didn’t they?” I ask with a small smile. Rocky croons softly as if he’s relieved. “Rocky and Grace are relieved. Adrian is relieved. Chia is relieved. All Eridians are very relieved with this news. Everyone was scared, scared, scared. Simon might die because of sickness. Sad. Sad. Sad.” Rocky lets out a low warble as I look down at him. 

For a moment, I don’t know what to say. Hearing someone tell me they would be sad to see me die feels… nice… Maybe not the death part—but someone cared enough that they would feel sad to see me go, to see a hole where I used to be. It feels nice. I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I don’t want to let it go. Yet at the same time, I don’t want them to put so much effort into everything that is just for me. 

“Simon leak, happy tears or sad tears question?” Rocky asks as I finally notice the tears falling from the tips of my nose. I rush to wipe them with the back of my hand. 

“Happy tears... I’ve never... had anyone care for me so much... aside from my mom,” I say carefully as Rocky croons at me, walking close and patting my knee with his claw. “Many care about Simon: me, Grace, Adrian. Every Eridian here cares for Simon. Many, many care,” Rocky says as I swallow, forcing a shaky smile. 

That feels nice to hear. It really does. 

“Thank you, Rocky, I—” I get choked up as I try to breathe, placing a fist over my lips to stop myself from hitching my breath. I don’t cry often, but when I do, I can’t seem to always stop shaking, especially my chest. 

“Simon needs a hug like Grace always needs a hug.” Rocky pulls on my pant leg, and I have no choice but to kneel and lower my upper body over Rocky’s body. I feel him wrap two of his arms around my torso and croon lowly, almost resembling a machine whirring as I lay there on top of his warm body. 

I can feel the heat coming from him, and it’s comfortable. 

“Simon good, good, question?” Rocky asks as I lean back on my hunches, nodding. “Yeah. You give good hugs,” I reply. 

Rocky lets out a happy trill at that. “Rocky flattered! Maybe next time, Simon should try to get a hug from Grace. Grace taught Rocky how to hug after all.” He lets out a happy croon and notes as I snort at that. 

What is with these Eridians and their attempts to push us together? I’m seeing a pattern. Worse, it’s these two: Adrian and Rocky, who are literally mates with each other. Did they plan this or something? 

“Like Grace, Simon also needs hugs. Maybe Simon and Grace should hug each other.” Rocky says, but I just push him away. “Alright, Rocky, off you go. I’ll watch over Grace, okay? You’ve got kids; you’ve got Adrian. They need you,” I finally say as Rocky lets out a croon that sounds like a low chuckle.

“Simon is embarrassed, just like Grace when I talk about Simon. ‘Mate, mate, mate!’” Rocky continues to say until I eventually have to kick him out as he lets out a laugh. 

I stand by the door, watching Rocky run down the hill, onto the sand, and then to the shore, where he rolls happily in the sand as I lean on the wooden door and hit my forehead against the glass. 

Mate, huh?

Chapter Text

This is it—the cure to all my problems. In a small little syringe that Grace will give to me by poking my shoulder with it. He has told me a few times that he’s tested it with a sample of my blood and it worked. My blood was cleansed of whatever sickness the blood ocean gave me. 

Permanently.

I get to eat.

“I’m excited! Are you excited?” Grace asks, practically vibrating in his seat. I almost roll my eyes at him and tell him to just do it so I can finally experience eating. 

Grace must have felt my slight glare because he didn’t waste any time cleaning my skin with cotton and finally inserting the needle into my shoulder. I watch it disappear inside my flesh, the substance entering my body. It gave a small spark of pain like a pinch, but it disappeared quickly as Grace leaned back.

“Does it work right away?” I ask.

“Not right away; it’ll take some time. But for now, let’s get you to bed. You’ll definitely feel the effects, and I know it won’t be pretty,” Grace said.

He told me as much, but I think I can handle it. Right?

Grace eventually ushered me to his room, where I’m forced to sit while he moves around. I try to discern if I’m feeling any aftereffects, but I don’t think I am. Or maybe it just takes time; it’s fine, I can wait.

Grace makes it sound so bad, though. Dizziness, nausea—everything on the list of aftereffects is apparently there because whatever is inside my blood was very deeply entrenched. So, it’s going to take some time and pain for it to fully eradicate. 

That seems fine; I’ve gone through worse.

“Feel anything yet?” Grace asks as he prepares dinner, this time with two bowls. I don’t know if I’m allowed to eat, but he seems to be preparing it anyway.

I lay on the bed for a while, expecting my vision to spin, but it isn’t so bad. It is spinning, but I got used to it midway and spent my time with my eyes closed, lying on my side while I listen to Grace moving around, talking to Armando, singing some songs I don’t recognize even though I’m pretty sure he’s played every earth song in this house.

“Dunno, dizzy,” I mutter. 

“That’s normal! It means it’s working; it’s fighting the stuff inside your blood. It’s working!” I hear Grace cheer, and I open my eyes to see him by the door, holding two bowls and placing them by the nightstand.

“I can eat already?” I ask. Grace sits down by my feet as I look over at him, watching him eat noodles. 

“Not yet, but I want to bring this for tomorrow. So when you wake up, you can eat,” Grace said.

So tomorrow then.

So tonight is full of pain.

I make myself comfortable while I watch Grace get cozy by my feet, grabbing his laptop from the side. Is he really just going to sit there?

I look at him as he busies himself with his dinner, eating in bed while he watches something on the screen. I shift a little to give him more space and settle in more comfortably. The smell of food makes me nauseous; it’s possible that it’s a side effect of the medicine.

I expected to feel a bit hungry at the smell of food, but I just feel much more dizzy.

I don’t want to tell Grace that. I know he’ll leave the room for my comfort, but I don’t really want him to leave now that I’m starting to slowly feel the effects of the medicine. 

Like how I suddenly feel hot all over, and I’m tempted to kick away the blanket over my waist. But I just accept my fate: I’m going to boil to death. Here I thought I liked the heat.

“Still doing okay?” Grace asks, looking at me over his glasses. I bury my face in the pillow, nodding silently. I hope he takes that as an answer and a sign that I can’t really talk right now; I’m trying to align every molecule in my being to not vomit.

I probably need to ask for a vomit box.

“Can you… get a bin or some box I can vomit into just in case?” I finally ask.

I watch, almost hilariously, as Grace’s eyes widen, and he nearly drops his bowl and laptop. He sets them aside and makes a quick run out of the room. He returns with a bin and places it beside the bed. 

Thank god.

I lay there after that, falling asleep intermittently. It was like flashes: first, Grace was by my feet, and the next, he was curled up in a plush chair he had dragged into the room, his blanket wrapped around him snugly. Meanwhile, my body ached all over, and my mouth felt dry, achy, and unbearably itchy.

I feel like I want to rake my nails all over my gums to relieve the itch beneath them. 

The room is lit by a faint yellow light, and it’s dark outside the window. I can’t move my head to check the time because my body hurts too much, and my stomach is churning between bits of hunger and nausea, along with the faint smell of copper stuck in my nose for no reason at all.

I feel like my whole body is fighting something—which means the medicine is working then.

I can feel the heat behind my eyes. 

Fuck—my body really hurts, and my vision is spinning. I turned my head to bury my face into the warm pillow as I let out a shaky breath. 

This pretty much sucks. Grace warned me, but here I thought I could do it—well, I am doing it now. 

I blink blearily as I look at Grace—and for a moment, I’m not sure if it’s the mixture of every pain existing, but my mouth waters as I look at his face. My gums continue to itch, and I’m tempted to wake Grace up, but I can’t just wake a sleeping person. 

I fall asleep again after that. I didn’t have time to debate whether the sleep was good or not because the darkness engulfed me right away.

—

I woke up to light and a slightly cold hand touching my forehead. For once, I didn’t feel any more ache, nausea, or even a strong pain in each part of my body. The medicine must have finally done its work, and for once, I’m pretty grateful that the worst part is over. 

And as well, I can finally eat!

“This is it,” Grace said. 

“This is it,” I echoed as I looked down at a plate of steak (which is made out of Grace’s meat—I need to stop thinking that; I still have underlying nausea from last night).

Grace sat in front of me, and Armando whirred at the side. The robot watched me expectantly, and for a moment, I felt like I was on stage, about to perform something very embarrassing. 

I paused and looked at Grace, who was smiling at me. His glasses were knocked crooked on his face, but he didn’t do anything to fix them. “Go on,” Grace said, and I felt flushed as I took a bite. Slowly, I chewed. Grace had told me to eat slowly, just in case, since my body hadn’t been used to eating solids in a while. 

We both waited, baited breath, expecting me to hurl my guts out. Hell, Armando even had the vomit bin ready by the side, held by one of its other hands as I stared at my fork. 

After a few seconds, it turned into minutes. 

“Do you feel any different? Maybe sick?” Grace asked. I shook my head, and I could physically see Grace slump over in relief. I felt the same thing as Grace grinned at me, and I couldn’t help but smile back. 

I’m cured. 

I can finally eat now. 

“Thank you—” I started, but I was cut off when Grace stood up, walked around the table, and hugged me. “I’m glad you’re okay now,” Grace said, breathing out as his warm breath hit my ear. I let out a surprised noise, almost dropping the fork as I lowered it to pat his arm. 

I just smiled a bit, feeling warm. “Me too—still. Thank you a lot… I didn’t think you and the others would go so far as to find a way to fix whatever was wrong with me,” I murmured softly. 

Grace only leaned back. “Nothing was ever wrong with you, bud. You were just sick,” he said, giving me one of his small smiles. I smiled at him as well, feeling my chest warm at that. 

We didn’t speak for a few moments, both of us just looking at each other. Grace was looking down at me, and I was looking up at him and his very blue eyes. 

“Oh!” Grace exclaimed, finally realizing as he looked out at our plates. “Eat!” He said, gesturing at the table excitedly, almost jumping on his feet in excitement. He looked proud, really proud. 

And we ate breakfast. 

Grace finished first while I had my fourth plate. The taller male busied himself in the bathroom to prepare for the day. Meanwhile, I wondered if I should get a fifth before realizing I was getting too greedy. My stomach still rumbled, as if I hadn’t just eaten that much meat. 

Granted, it had been a while since I’d eaten, and God, I missed eating. Better yet, the food here wasn’t just a mashed combination of every disgusting food ever, unlike in the COI station where I had to eat goop with a taste I couldn’t even understand. 

I was still hungry, but I had to stop; I might vomit it back up if I ate too much. 

“Think I can join you for class today?” I asked Grace as I watched him slip on a colorful jacket. 

“What?” Grace startled as he spotted me sitting by the couch. He adjusted his glasses. “Can I come with?” I asked again. 

“Uhh.” Grace seemed to think about it. “You just came down from the medicine; I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He pointed out as he shuffled awkwardly. 

I felt fine, pretty fine. 

“I feel okay,” I said as Grace made a ‘hmph’ sound, as if he was actually debating it. He looked torn between saying yes and letting me go and saying no so I could rest more. 

I probably should be resting more. But I’d done nothing but rest for months. I hadn’t seen the sand in a while or even stepped on it. I wanted to walk, not just be inside four walls (Granted, we were still in a dome even outside, but the thought still counted, right?). 

“Please?” I added for good measure—and I knew Grace couldn’t say no when I said please (this also applied to Eridians that had learned how to use the word please). I could see Grace slump at that, nodding. “Yeah—yeah sure, the kids missed you. They’ve been asking about you, actually,” he said as I stood up to get closer to him. 

Are they? 

“Really?” I asked, and Grace nodded, wearing a small smile. 

“Yeah. They liked my assistant teacher,” he said, and I felt a bit warm at that comment for no reason. It shouldn’t matter that Eridian children liked me, but for some reason, it mattered a lot to me. 

“Well… I wasn’t really a good assistant.” I shrugged helplessly, but Grace just nudged me at that. “Kids like you; I’d say that’s one hell of a good assistant of mine,” he grinned at me.

I looked at him and couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Grace seemed proud as he winked at me before patting my shoulder. For a moment, his hand lingered, and his eyes stayed on my face as if he were trying to map everything out and remember it.

Then, I think it got awkward because his face pinched, and he walked past. “Okay, let’s go,” he cleared his throat as I hummed blankly behind him.

The walk to the cave was silent, aside from the loud waves from the ocean—God, I miss this; I’ve been asleep for so long.

“My house is finished,” I pointed out absently as I looked at a cottage beside Grace’s house. How I didn’t notice it coming out of Grace’s house is beyond me. I saw Grace stop and look. “Oh yep, I forgot to tell you about that,” he said, pushing his glasses up to his nose as we both looked at the cottage. 

It was… beautiful. And the fact that it’s all for me makes me feel warm inside.

“Ah—hm… are there any furniture pieces inside?” I asked as I walked closer behind Grace, who started to walk once more. “Yeah, the last thing we have to get there is Grabby himself,” Grace said.

I felt flustered that he actually went with that idea… That’s nice. 

“So, I guess I get my bedroom back,” Grace joked as he shot me a look I couldn’t read. “Yay,” I deadpanned.

I was a bit excited to live in a nice home made for me. The house isn’t large by any means, but Grace had mentioned that Eridians have this strange ability to make a house look smaller from the outside; the moment you get inside, it’s very spacious. Grace’s house is one of those examples.

“Also, what do you think about having a tree behind your house?” Grace asked as I fell into step beside him.

“That would be nice,” I replied as I stared forward. I could feel Grace inching close by my shoulder, our shoulders knocking together but not pushing.

I don’t know what he’s doing, but… it’s nice. 

I don’t think I’ve experienced this with any of my Eden brothers. Sure, we’ve tussled around like normal boys, but as I started growing up, I think they slowly began to see that I was a hundred miles different from all of them; that I wouldn’t bow and follow their beliefs.

I guess that’s the reason why none of them hesitated to blame me for Filament Station, huh?

“Still here? Just so you know, you’ve got to be focused today; can’t have the kids sitting on you and breaking your bones.” Grace nudged me, slipping his glasses off again and letting them hang on his ear as I glared at it (why does he even do that? What if it falls?).

“I’m here,” I said as Grace gave me an excited smile and rushed up the hill toward the cave. “Last one’s a rotten egg,” he said. 

I don’t know what that means.

The Eridian children are very… excited to see me. Grace was right about boundaries. I do need to establish them—I should start putting down boundaries.

They didn’t waste any time flocking around me and using me as their squishy pillow. Thankfully, Grace must have warned them or something beforehand because he was the one who got up the cave first, leaving them lighter as they were carrying their weight while also leaning on me.

I ended up sitting with the class while Grace taught, moving around the little circle of pebbles. 

He’s a good teacher.

—

My teeth hurt. My gums hurt. My whole mouth hurts.  

I think it’s because I haven’t brushed my teeth for months. I don’t think Grabby can do any of that. I gagged at the coppery taste as I continued to brush my teeth, the bristles hitting the aching gums around my canines as I leaned over the sink, gritting my teeth to at least alleviate the pain and the itch I was feeling at the moment.  

I eyed the mouthwash at the side of the sink. Grace had the Eridian scientist make me one when I mentioned that my gums had started bleeding, as well as floss. He taught me how to properly clean my teeth to avoid… Ginga—Gingivitis—I can’t remember.  

It’s a word about a gum problem with teeth, starting with G and ending with S, and I can’t seem to care because my teeth hurt and itch.  

I could hear Grabby whirring outside the bathroom, cleaning the table, with plates clanging left and right.  

Oh yeah. I’ve just had ten servings of breakfast—I don’t know if that’s normal. It’s been weeks since I last got my medicine, but I’m always so hungry.  

Adrian said it’s because I’ve been drinking water for so long that my body was just excited to eat normal human food. Grace has the same idea; it’s not a problem—but I feel strangely embarrassed and ashamed that I’m eating so much.  

I spat a few mouthfuls of toothpaste, swallowing a little when I saw red at the bottom of the sink.  

That somehow became normal—my gums get so inflamed that they bleed from time to time. Grace already had a look at it, and he said I just need to not only brush but also floss and use mouthwash with some medicine on it, according to the Eridian doctors, to heal the irritated gums.  

It’s probably all this eating that’s causing my teeth and gums to react this way.  

I’m not surprised, but… it feels a little too extreme. It’s not like I haven’t been eating for years; it’s not like my teeth weren’t used. Sure, I had no food to chew, but it’s just strange that this is the aftermath of eating too much.  

It makes me a little worried.  

I trust Grace and Adrian, as well as their Eridian doctors, but I feel something is different with this.  

I left the bathroom, wiping my mouth, blood leaving my lips as I saw Grabby whirring and turning to me, looking at the white towel splattered with blood.  

“Just my gums acting up,” I said, and Grabby made a motion of nodding and went back to cleaning the plates while I folded the towel and left it hanging by the dining chair before heading to the living room.  

I’m now living alone in my own house. Grace is probably in his house right now resting.  

The cottage is nice; in fact, the place is amazing. I love it. It’s spacious with just me and Grabby. I can decide if I want to sleep in my bed or on the couch.  

But it gets lonely because I don’t hear the familiar walking, humming, or even the loudness of Grace. And I know I’m being melodramatic—he’s just a few steps away in his own house outside. We’re sharing the same hill, after all.  

But…  

I don’t think I can just go there now that I have my own place to stay. I feel like I would be imposing.  

Grace doesn’t seem to mind that I’m not there anymore; I guess he did get tired of sleeping on the couch after all.  

I don’t miss him; I see him every day when he goes to class, and I drag myself out along with him because being an assistant teacher seems like the only job I can do here for the time being until Grace has an idea of what to do with the little old me.  

But I miss being watched while resting (that itself seems pretty surprising; I didn’t think I’d get used to it so fast).  

But then again, it’s not the same as it was last time anymore. I’m fixed now. I think my sleeping has improved. According to Grace, I now have brain activity while sleeping. Sure, I still sleep like a dead log, and I am still essentially like an Eridian when sleeping. But it’s marginally better now; I can respond to extreme stimuli.  

So if anyone decided to punch me, I’d definitely wake up and punch back.  

I don’t do much aside from watch TV, waiting for dinner to come, or, better yet, read a book while I lay on the couch.  

Grabby whirrs by the kitchen as I sigh, running my tongue over my teeth, feeling how itchy they are but painful at the same time. It makes me want to rake my nails against my gums to scratch the itch, but I know that it’ll definitely bleed again, and I’ll have to wash my mouth out again with the mouthwash.  

I lay there on the couch, dropping the face of the book on my chest as I stare at the ceiling. I have nothing to do. No one is making noise in the house for days; no one is talking my ear off.  

I think I miss being Grace’s roommate.  

That’s a bit scary; I have no idea why. Well, maybe the fact that I’ve gotten so used to his presence now, always being around even when unneeded.

I sighed and threw the crook of my elbow over my face. Maybe I should just sleep and finalize the fact that I am indeed a couch potato. I fell asleep soon after that.

I woke around 12 AM, disturbed by Grabby, who had apparently been trying to wake me up for a few hours for dinner. I had a pounding headache, and my stomach was churning with hunger so badly that I was shaking when I sat up. My hand trembled as I raised it in the air.

I was so incredibly hungry. I could smell food, but it was faint.

The robot had set up my dinner, which had gotten cold while I washed my mouth, which tasted like copper again, spewing out bloody water before eating dinner. 

“Thank you, Grabby,” I said as I watched Grabby hand me the utensils and flip the bowl cover it had placed over the plate.

I ate in silence, this time slowly, even though my hand wanted to just grab the food and shove it into my mouth. The meat was soft (still trying not to remember the fact that I was eating a piece of Grace at the moment; otherwise, I’d feel a bit sick at that thought). My teeth ached every time I bit down, but I was so hungry.

The headache persisted as I received my third plate from Grabby. “Hey, do you have painkillers? I’ve got a headache,” I said between bites. Grabby moved, one of its hands popping out and placing a singular pill by my plate. I muttered a small thank you, grabbed the glass of water, and drank before going back to eating.

I stopped at the fourth serving, mostly because the feeling of shame was slowly creeping in about how much food I was eating in just one day and how often the Eridians came and went to refill my refrigerator with every single item of food that Grace had placed here and told the Eridians to keep stocking.

In a week, the Eridians came two to three times if I got extremely hungry. 

With Grace, before I could eat regular food (and I was still his faithful roommate). Stocking happened every two to three weeks, sometimes four because Grace ate too little but drank too much coffee.

I didn’t get large nor even skinny, but I was always hungry. Because of that, my gums were bleeding. 

And I was pretty scared that I might lose a tooth if I continued this.

I watched Grabby clean the table while I spent an hour in the bath, submerged in hot, almost boiling water as I sat there, feeling at home.

—

“Sweet baby Jesus, it’s hot in here. Did you crank up the heater? You do know it gets hot outside in the morning, right? It’s only for nights.” Grace greets me by the door, stepping back and wincing at the heat inside my house. 

There was steam coming out, and somehow I just noticed now that it is hot, but it’s a comfortable heat for me.

I also note his clothes; I just woke up, and he’s already set for the day. I fell asleep on the couch earlier at midnight. The bed feels too large for me all of a sudden, and I don’t know why. It’s not like I’ve shared a bed with anyone in a long time. “It’s cold,” I said, but I cranked the heater down from the wall as Grace entered, sliding his jacket off and waving a hand at his face, looking sweaty right away as he scanned the room. “It’s hot, Si. Also, did you just wake up—wait, can I make coffee here? I don’t want to go back to my house,” Grace said. He didn’t wait for me to respond and rushed toward the kitchen. 

His house is literally twenty steps away from mine, but I don’t point it out. I hear a loud crash and someone yelping. Typical Grace. “Hey, why are all the blinds closed? It’s so dark in here!” I hear him scream; I don’t respond. It’s not dark; it’s decently lit up. The blinds are barely closed, just a little. Grabby must have done that for me and my headache earlier. 

I step over Grace, who somehow managed to slip on a rug on the floor, and go to my room to prepare for the day. I opt for a simple shirt and pants because I don’t think I have it in me to think about what to wear today; it’s not like Eridians care about our clothes and what we wear. 

I brush my teeth, noting how there is more blood today and how my gums look really red and inflamed, especially around my canines—both lower and upper. It’s probably because I usually chew around my molars and to my canines, but I’m an avid right-side eater. I don’t understand why both are looking a bit red. 

“Did you eat breakfast yet?” Grace asked, sitting by the dining table, eyeing the plate covered by a bowl as I leave the bathroom, wiping my mouth and hiding the bloody towel from Grace. I shook my head. It’s late; I’ll eat later. My stomach rumbles, though, and my body feels weak, but it’s not like I’m going to tell that to Grace. “You should eat first; the kids don’t mind if we’re late,” Grace smiles. I just shake my head again. “It’s fine; I’ll just eat after. It’s not like I do anything aside from sitting down and acting as their cushion,” I said blandly as Grace snorted at that, dangling his glasses over his ear once more. 

“Alright—you sure? You look a bit peckish, pale around the sides. I know how your appetite is,” Grace said offhandedly, and I felt myself warm at that comment, feeling ashamed. “I’m fine,” I said, feeling strangely annoyed at someone pointing out my eating habits. 

“Hey, it’s no problem; you haven’t eaten normal food in months,” Grace said softly as he stood up, finishing the last drops of his coffee and handing it to Grabby. I tried not to glare at him, but I think I failed. Grace winced a little as he walked past me. 

We go out. And God—I stopped by the door and groaned at the light above us. For a moment, I can hear my ears ringing, and my eyes get promptly blinded by the artificial sun above us. I feel tempted to move back and hide in the deepest, darkest part of the house. Grace paused in front of me. “Simon? What’s wrong?” he asks as I feel a pounding pain in my head again, coming back like a big punch as I lean against the doorframe, hiding slightly behind it as I press my forehead against the warm wall. 

“The light,” I said. “What’s wrong with the sun?” Simon asks. “Too bright,” I added as I hit my forehead against the wall a bit to try to clear my headache—it worked for a moment, but opening my eyes again made my body tremble, and the hairs on my body stood on end as I hid behind the frame again from the light. 

That’s when I finally noticed how dark the inner parts of the house were as I stayed there. I felt Grace place a hand on my elbow, where one of my hands was holding onto the frame as I leaned there. “Headache? Want to stay at home?” Grace asked. I didn’t reply right away. My head pounded a few more times before I stood up properly and shook my head. I’m going with him; I don’t want to keep myself stuck like this over a simple problem. It’s just a headache; I woke up late because of my messed-up sleep schedule, and it’s bothering my eyes. 

“Fine… Let’s go,” I said, and pushed Grace out of the way and out of the house as I closed the door. I tried not to grit my teeth as I felt the sun beaming down on us. “You sure?” he asks. Somehow, that made me feel a bit pissed. “I’m fine. Stop asking,” I said—this time with more force than normal.

Grace startles at that; even I did too. My stomach churns when Grace wears a face of hurt, stepping back. The hand that was about to touch my elbow moves back, pocketed in his own pants. 

I didn’t think I could sound like that. “I—I’m fine,” I said again, but I had already done the damage. Grace gives me a small frown before nodding and walking down the hill. I stand there, wiping a hand across my face. The sun shines down, and I feel a headache slowly traveling to the left side of my head. The ache in my mouth reminds me of how dry my lips are, on the verge of cracking and bleeding.

I follow after Grace. “Sorry,” I say as I fall into step beside him. Grace just shoots me a small smile. “It’s fine. Headaches are a pain; maybe we can finish class in just an hour—Joseph wants you back in the lab so he can check your gums and see what he can do about it.” Grace’s voice is soft, not loud. 

It’s like he doesn’t want to worsen my headache. I try not to let that get to me—my eyes burn a bit at that. 

“Okay,” I said. 

We walk in tense silence, or maybe it’s just me. Grace looks fine; he’s humming softly, a small tune, and skipping as he walks, spreading a bit of sand over my feet. But I don’t mind. I can’t help but forget my headache and the aching of my teeth and gums.

Class went well. Grace wasn’t kidding about shortening it. The kids were all sad for the class to end quickly, but Grace simply said I needed a check-up in the lab, and all of them agreed. 

“Bye, Simon,” I hear a sandy-colored Eridian chirp at me in Eridian—it’s Sandy, one of Grace’s best students. 

I’m getting closer to understanding the Eridian language (it’s a self-study; Rocky and Grace offered to teach me, but I’m scared they’ll find out I’m slow, so I turned them down). But all I really know is my name, Grace’s, their names, “bye,” “hello,” and “thank you,” along with a few commonly used sentences. 

“See you tomorrow, Sandy,” I say as Sandy lets out a happy trill, jumping excitedly while chirping a few Eridian words I can barely understand before running off with her friends.

“Usually we don’t have favorites in a class,” Grace comments behind me as he closes his laptop. 

I give him a look at that, and Grace grins at me. “Come on, let’s get your check-up. The lab practically misses your presence. We should get you a shirt that says ‘Someone who keeps getting sent to the lab,’ huh?” he jokes again as we walk down the hill.

I snort at that, unable to stop myself from rolling my eyes. 

I can’t help but agree, though. The sun is still a pain in the ass; in fact, every light feels like a pain in the ass. It sends my ears ringing every time I look at the sun in the bio-dome or the fluorescent lights in the lab as Grace and I walk.

We have to stop because Grace is speaking with a few Eridian scientists about something. Grace wears a small face of apprehension, giving me a look before he nods and says some words I can’t hear from where I stand. Eventually, we go our merry way to Joseph’s office. 

The lab has two sectors: the part where Grace and I can walk and where Eridians have to wear their xenonite suits, and the part where Eridians can walk around freely without them. The air is filled with ammonia, and Grace and I can’t go there, but it’s divided by see-through xenonite glass that is reinforced to ensure nothing from our air gets through and inadvertently kills them.

It’s in a specific level of the lab since most of the space is human-proof. This part is mostly just… I don’t know. Machines? Other things? It’s hard to say; science stuff still happens here, apparently, because I see a few familiar Eridian scientists walking inside their xenonite chambers. 

I guess this level is just for the comfort and space of the Eridians since it’s probably hard for them to keep wearing their suits. I mean, I hated wearing xenonite suits. But then again, the last time I did, I vomited inside it. Who wouldn’t hate that?

“Hey, Seph. Got Simon here for you. His gums are still bleeding. Hey, Simon, tell him about it,” Grace says as I nod. 

I watch Joseph, a ruby-colored Eridian who is a bit taller and larger than the others, fit into his suit, clicking and chirping as I hear the voice box open. He leaves the xenonite chamber, walking through the doors and coming up to us. 

“Simon feeling good. Question?” Joseph greets me as he motions for me to follow him to the metal table, where he grabs the rolling rails and climbs up. I sit by the table as I watch Grace leave the room, talking to a few scientists who hand him some kind of tablet to look at. 

I watch him until Joseph appears in my field of vision, opening and closing his claws to get my attention. “Simon, here. Question?” Joseph asks, and I flush. “Sorry. Yeah. Uhm, my gums are still bleeding. The mouthwash works; it stops the itching and aching for a while. Flossing hurts a lot, especially around my canines and at the back. Brushing makes my gums bleed a lot too,” I try to explain as Joseph clicks and hums, picking up a xenonite stick and telling me to open my mouth.

He has his camera at the side and a screen where I can see my own mouth as he points it inside. The screen moves like sand, showing the insides. It doesn’t look weird—in fact it looks quite interesting. 

The camera hums as Joseph clicks, making a few low notes that the translator can’t interpret. 

“Joseph sees bleeding, especially around the back of the mouth. Very bad, but not bad, bad, bad, bad. Can fix; Joseph knows how to help with pain. Use a less hard brush, water flossing, and a better mouthwash. Also, eat less hard human food to lessen the ache and pain,” Joseph says as he moves back. 

I massage my jaw a little. “So I can’t eat too much hard stuff, like...?” I ask. 

“Meat. Simon should start eating soup with very, very, very soft meat. Boil it for a long time so it doesn’t irritate the gums. Joseph will ask Julia to grab a water flosser for Simon, is a new creation by Eridian mechanics for Simon. Joseph foresaw this happening.” Joseph says as I nod silently. 

I watch him climb down the handrails, moving around and ordering some of the Eridian nurses who came out of the xenonite chamber to prepare the water flosser for me. 

“Julia will teach Simon how to use the water flosser later. Now, are there any more problems that Joseph needs to know about?” Joseph asks, climbing the handrail again as I shrug. 

“Is it normal for me to continue feeling hungry even after it’s been weeks since I got the medicine?” I ask. 

Joseph doesn’t reply to that right away, just a series of humming, clicking, and crooning. 

“Joseph doesn’t know yet. Must read more about human health from the thinking machine. But Joseph believes Simon’s body is still getting used to normal food,” he says. 

That’s the same thing Grace said. I believe them. 

“After a few weeks?” I ask again. 

“Very normal. Some Eridians are the same as Simon. Very, very hungry always after being forced to not eat normally,” Joseph says as I sigh, nodding. 

“Anything else?” Joseph asks. 

I shake my head. I have a lot more to ask, but they seem like stupid questions. I feel like I’m making a big deal out of everything anyway. 

“All good,” I say, giving him a thumbs up. Joseph copies me, but his is a thumbs down. 

“Julia will come up now to teach Simon about the water flosser. See you soon, Simon. Joseph hopes Simon is good when he comes back.” Joseph makes a move with his arm, tapping his claw on it as I do the same. 

It’s their ‘see you soon,’ and I suppose I like that they don’t really say goodbye. Kind of. They have a ‘see you soon,’ which I now dub as goodbye. 

“See you soon, Joseph. Thank you,” I say, and Joseph chirps happily as Julia switches with him. 

“Simon ready to learn?” she asks. 

“Hit me,” I say.

—

“Checkup went well?” Grace asks as we walk back home.

“A bit. Joseph said I should eat softer meats and foods and avoid irritating my gums. That’s why they keep bleeding. And it doesn’t help that I eat too much,” I replied.

Grace hums at that. “That’s fine. You know—back when I first got here, Mary didn’t have enough food for the trip to Erid, so I basically had to eat Taumoeba,” he said.

I made a face at that. “The thing that solved the astrophage problem?” I asked.

Yes, I remember the word now; it’s the same thing that basically saved my ass.

“Eeeeyep. Trust me, not my best moment. But I developed scurvy after a few years in space on the way to Erid. My hair started to fall out, and my lips and mouth kept bleeding. Look, I even lost a tooth at the back,” Grace said, opening his mouth and leaning towards me so I could see.

I couldn’t help but laugh and move back. Grace grinned at that as he dropped his hand and leaned away.

We continued to walk.

“That must have been tough,” I said after a beat.

“It was,” Grace looked at me, giving me a painful smile. “But I had Rocky. He took care of me. I couldn’t even move or walk; I was bedbound for so long.” Grace let out a small sigh. “I thought I was going to die. You know, I had this feeling like, ‘Oh, I’m going to die because of scurvy, the same sickness that on Earth is pretty much rare now. And I can’t believe I’ll die from that.’ It’s a pretty funny thought process because back then, pirates used to get it.”

“I guess you can start calling me a space pirate,” Grace joked.

“After you got here, you got better, right?” I asked. Grace hummed and shrugged.

“Not right away; healing isn’t like magic, you know. It took me a whole year to get back on my feet. I was still stuck in Mary while they focused on making the biodome for me and food that had enough nutrients. They lacked everything a human needs on Erid,” Grace said.

So I guess in a way, Grace is the first test subject, and I get to reap the rewards since now they know about humans more than I do, probably.

“But Rocky was there with me the whole time. Even when we reached Erid, I still had the feeling that I might genuinely die… but you know Rocky. He did everything he could. Adrian too,” Grace smiled softly at that.

I didn’t reply.

Grace is a strong man; it doesn’t take someone with good eyes to see it.

“You’re a brave and strong man, Grace,” I said after a moment, and Grace turned red at that.

“I’m not!” he exclaimed, flushed.

I just snorted and shook my head. He’s bad at accepting compliments from time to time.

“Anyways, back to the point. You’ve got us. You’ve already gotten through the virus you got from the moon you came from. Teeth problems are much easier now, and it doesn’t hurt to accept help too. We’re all here. Me, Rocky, Adrian, Chia, hell, even the kids,” Grace said.

“I’m not saying you have scurvy… just wanted to give a small speech for you and stuff,” Grace added as I snorted at him, unable to stop rolling my eyes, causing Grace to pout as he knocked our shoulders together.

He stumbled at that, and I grabbed his elbow in time.

We both stopped at that. He looked over before he laughed.

My head continued to pound, but his laugh sounded nice, so I didn’t think I minded getting a headache over as I cracked a small smile. “Alright, save your speech for a better one. I get your point,” I said with a small shrug as Grace pushed me towards the ocean. 

I fell into the water with a loud yelp; it was cold—but not uninviting (it felt a bit better for my headache).

Grace was hunched over, laughing at me, and I didn't have time to choose to think about whether what I was doing was right or wrong because I pulled his leg, and he fell over me, forcing him to dive into the water as he screamed much louder than I’d ever heard him scream.

“Gosh dang it!” Grace shouted, his glasses knocked to the side, his whole body wet and his hair flattened down as I grinned at him.

A wave crashed down on us, causing us to slide back, Grace falling over my leg as he grunted, annoyed that I one-upped him. 

What a sore loser.

Grace slapped his hand on the water, throwing it straight at my face and sending salty cold water straight into my mouth.

I choked at that and did the same.

Chapter Text

What. 

The. 

Fuck?

What is wrong with my teeth? 

I stare down at the sink, full of blood, and in my hand is my left canine tooth; it fell out while I was eating Grabby’s god sent beef stir fry (I was somehow given the freedom to pick what Grabby can cook apparently. 

I like Joseph, and he’s a pretty damn good doctor. But there’s no way in hell I am going back to soup and liquid. I want rice and actual meat.

While I was having dinner, I bit down hard on the meat and felt blood rushing out of my mouth. 

Here I am, with my tooth having fallen out—it didn’t break by the looks of it. It’s like biting into the meat just loosened it enough to fall out. It’s disgusting; there’s a lot of blood. My blood.

It’s red. Really red, as I open the tap, letting the water rush out to clean the sink. I wipe my palm on the sink to quickly clean it off before running the canine tooth under the water to inspect it. 

I rinse my mouth as well, running my tongue over the empty area where my left upper fang used to be. “God damn it,” I mutter as I turn toward the mirror, pulling the sides of my lip to look at the empty space.

Oh god, I look dumb as hell. 

Out of every tooth to fall out, it had to be the one that can be seen when I smile.

What the hell, does the world hate me?

I groan, my gums aching around the empty area, and I gently slam my forehead against the mirror. 

Am I going to lose all my teeth now? I might have to get another checkup if so; I’d rather not end up completely toothless soon. 

I place the single canine tooth in an empty glass when I leave the bathroom, wiping my mouth. 

I spot the blood on the dining table, being cleaned by Grabby, and I sigh. The sight of blood makes me shiver a little as Grabby wipes away the remaining blood and puts my food away.

I’m hungry—still very hungry—but I just lost a tooth and don’t want that to happen again tonight. I can’t lose another one. How can I talk now without hearing the wooshing air from the empty space in my upper left lip? 

God. My mouth waters as my stomach rumbles. 

“Grabby, can you make me some coffee? Make it hot,” I say as Grabby whirs, starting it right away, while I look at the empty glass with my tooth inside.

I hope I don't add another one here.

That night, I didn’t get to sleep right away; I was too bothered by how easily my tooth came out. As a child, I went through the same thing and lost teeth—it's a normal part of life, right? It’s almost the same as this one.

Except that as a kid, a tooth gets looser faster because another one is growing underneath. 

As an adult, I don’t think our teeth grow back—I’ve seen a couple of Eden brothers lose teeth in fights, and they don’t come back. But if my canine fell out that quickly, it means one thing: it’s growing back.

I don’t get it. 

I run my tongue over the empty area where my canine was, and I can feel something poking the tip of my tongue—something sharp that easily pierced it, causing me to yelp as I touch the tip of my tongue with my finger, seeing blood coming out. 

What the hell?

—

“Tooth growth is normal for younger humans. But Simon is no longer young. How old is Simon in Earth years?” Joseph asks as I nervously tap the bottom of my shoe on the floor. “I’m, uh…” I calculate the numbers in my head.

In Martian terms, I would be 14 or something by now. In Earth terms, that would be…

I rock my leg on the floor as Joseph waits for me to talk. “28,” I finally say, clearing my throat. 

Joseph lets out a few chirps, tapping his claws on the handrail. “Too old for new teeth. Strange, strange, strange. Joseph doesn’t know what to say. Joseph will use the thinking machine,” he says as I sigh. 

This isn’t working. I’ve come back here again and again, and now I’ve lost my lower canine this time, around the right. This time I wasn’t even eating; I was just helping Grace with the kids.

I didn’t even notice my mouth was bleeding until Sandy and Ruby pointed out that I was leaking, and at that moment Grace saw that I was quite literally drooling blood and basically had to carry me to the lab.

I lost another tooth, and it bled severely somehow. I felt more hungry than ever after that. I didn’t get any medicine or anything to fix whatever is happening with my teeth—just more brushing, water flossing, and mouthwash.

This isn’t working; something is happening, and I have no idea what.

What if… this is the medicine’s aftereffects? Grace did say things can happen with the medicine, but he didn’t tell me it would go beyond this. I’ve had this idea for a few days now, and I didn’t tell Grace because I know he’ll go crazy again and lock himself up in the lab to find a way to fix all of this.

I’m not some machine to be fixed always, as much as I appreciate Grace and what he’s done for me. I don’t like turning into such a big deal like this.

“Maybe it’s the effects of the medicine,” I said.

“Medicine that savior Grace made question?” Joseph asks, and I shrug. “Maybe. I don’t know—I’m eating more than a normal person should, but my body doesn’t change; I don’t get lighter, I don’t get heavier. I’m always hungry, and even if I eat and eat and eat, it’s still not enough. I get shaky when I don’t eat, and even if I eat, it’s not enough. Never enough,” I continue.

Joseph lets out a soft warble at that, making small clicking noises. “So tell me, is it really normal?” I ask again. Joseph lets out a series of clicks and another sound that almost sounds like a sigh. 

“Joseph thinks it’s not normal. Teeth falling out is very bad, bad, bad. Simon has already gone through many tests and come out very good. Nothing wrong with the body,” Joseph says.

This again.

The same thing Grace told me before he realized that I had some sickness that was somehow so integrated into my blood it was undetectable until Grace and the other scientists and doctors started digging much deeper than they were supposed to.

Something’s wrong.

But I don’t want to make it into a big deal. Worst comes to worst, every tooth falls out, and I can just ask Eridians to make me fake teeth, maybe.

But then again, I can feel that there are new teeth coming in, so maybe it’ll be fine even if my teeth fall out? They’ll grow back anyway?

“I guess I just let my teeth fall out,” I shrug. 

Joseph lets out a chirp at that, almost annoyed; his body shakes as he turns to me, tapping his claws on the handrail. It almost feels like I’m being told off by my own mother.

“Simon does not take this seriously. But Joseph takes this seriously. Joseph is only normal human doctor, human health, like, sick sick sick. Not enough information from the thinking machine, not like a teeth doctor. No problem with normal health, but a problem with tooth health. Joseph sees Simon is worried but pretends not to,” Joseph points a claw at me as I just shrug, making a frowny face.

Joseph’s body shudders.

I suppose I’m his worst patient, really…

I wonder if Joseph is also Grace’s doctor if he gets sick. Does he get sick? I don’t think I’ve seen him get sick. I doubt he can get anything like normal human sickness if it's just the two of us after all.

I don’t think he’ll get normal human sickness if it’s just us both.

“And, look on the bright side. Simon’s teeth will grow back. Good, good, good. The bad part is there’s no answer to this phenomenon,” Joseph said again as I hum, nodding. “Simon loses no teeth, gets new ones. Maybe better ones,” Joseph added.

“Come back after 259,200 seconds,” Joseph says. “We’ll try if this will work; medicine to drink so teeth become better. The thinking machine helped Joseph.” Joseph chirps at Julia, who quickly runs up to my feet and hands me a box. I open it, and it wooshes; I see pills wrapped in what I assume is plastic.

“Antibiotic, hopefully, no more teeth will fall, and growing teeth will grow much faster,” Joseph chirps.

“Okay,” I say as I shut it closed.

“Does it fix the hunger?” I add.

Joseph warbles at that. “No,” he responds.

I sigh and nod anyway. “Thanks, Joseph. See you in three days,” I say as Joseph lets out a chirp. 

We say our goodbyes, and I leave the office. 

It is bright outside, and I get another pounding headache as I walk down the hill of the lab. I see Grace and Rocky by the shore. “Hey, did the check-up go well?” Grace asks as I walk up to them.

I shrug. “Got antibiotics to fix the gum problem, I guess,” I say as I sit beside Rocky, who chirps at me. He’s doing something I can’t quite understand— I lean over to see him soldering something, like some kind of small figurine. 

Grace must have seen me looking because he grins.

“He’s making a toy for his kids,” Grace explains, and I let out a soft “Oh” at that. “That’s nice,” I say.

“Rocky is making a figure for Rocky and Adrian’s child Hope child like,” Rocky says as he chirps happily. That’s pretty adorable; it’s sweet of Rocky to do that for his kid. It reminds me so much of my mother, who would use the stuffing from our old pillows to make me toys I could play with.

It was burned away when she died, along with her other things. That’s how Eden deals with death; they burn their belongings—everything connected to them. I had my mother’s knife with me—had being the word. I lost it now. I hoped it would be in the sub, but my refusal to come back made it harder. 

Even then, the Eridians would have noticed if there was a knife there, right?

“I’m sure your kid would like that,” I say, feeling a bit tired. Today, not much happened, but I feel like I did a lot today. I don’t know why.

I listen to Grace and Rocky talk while I sit there, letting the waves hit the soles of my shoes and seep up my ankles, drenching them in water. The fake sun overhead is bright; it pounds at the back of my head, which keeps shifting from left to right.

“Is the light still bothering you?” Grace asks, ever the observant one who notices everything that bothers me in this world. I turn to him, my left eye closed, a small wince on my face as I give him a look. “It’s fine,” I say.

“Something wrong with Simon, question?” Rocky asks. 

“He gets headaches in bright places,” Grace answers for me, and I feel a little annoyed at that. So I just huff at him.

“I can answer for myself,” I say, and Grace just pokes his tongue out at me as I furrow my brows at him. 

For someone older than me, he acts like a child. I can’t believe this is the same guy who saved me from imminent death through an intense sleeping technique. He’s also the same guy who’s teaching Earth culture here on another planet.

Rocky lets out a series of clicks and notes that the translator can’t pick up, and Grace groans, turning red. “What did he say? I didn’t understand it,” I say. 

“Rocky says that Grace knows too much about Simon,” Rocky says, and Grace huffs. “It’s a human thing. It’s just the same as Eridians,” he explains.

Rocky chirps, his body shaking as if he’s laughing. “Grace is wrong; that only applies to mates. Simon and Grace are not mates,” he jokes.

Not this again. I see Grace turning red, his eyes wide as he looks over to me, and I just decide to look away. No reason to throw more wood on the fire and make it worse. Sometimes Rocky is a brand new kind of demon.

“Simon and Grace mate, mate, mate,” I hear Rocky say, laughing, and Grace shrieks, throwing his whole body over Rocky, who has no problem carrying Grace’s weight on top of him.

“Shut up!” Grace says, and I pay no attention to them. I scoot away from their roughhousing and lay back on the sand, closing my eyes so I don’t have to look at the sun above. Thank God today’s cycle is a bit cloudy. I’m fine with that.

“Now look, you’ve made Simon uncomfortable. What is wrong with you?” I hear Grace mutter angrily at Rocky, who just laughs.

Eventually, the two of them stop, and I feel the sand shift a little. I turn my head to see Grace doing the same thing. Rocky isn’t lying back but is sprawled out like some weak blob of slime that has splatted on the floor.

“You two done?” I ask.

“Yep,” I hear Grace say, and I snort.

“Good. You guys are too loud,” I say, hearing Rocky chirp a retort before letting out a note that sounds like laughter. I can’t help but snort at that.

Eventually, we all fall silent, just enjoying the weather. For Grace and me, we’re savoring the sights, sounds, smells, and the feeling of sand behind our backs. For Rocky, he enjoys the sound of the water since he can’t see what we see. 

I want to imagine how it feels to be like Rocky… 

Since my eyes are already closed, I can now focus on the sounds and the smells, as well as the feeling of everything on my skin. 

The sun may give me a headache, but I love it nonetheless. This is the only time I’ve been able to enjoy it. There is no sun in my world, after all. It’s always dark, lit up by man-made lights in every hallway of the station. 

I can’t hate the sun when this is the first time I get to experience it. Even if it’s just inside a dome replicating a fake earth, it’s still beautiful. 

After all, it was created with the intent of nurturing Grace, and now I guess, me. 

The water laps at my feet, entering my shoes as I feel the cold water hit my toes and creep up my legs, wetting the pants I’m wearing at the moment. 

Grace and Rocky are silent, and for once, I’m kind of thankful they actually know how to be quiet. 

Though I should maybe poke fun at them for that—who knew they could actually be quiet? 

I continue to lay there, not opening my eyes whatsoever as I listen to the crashing waves at my feet, which slowly travel up to my knees. 

I didn’t think we were that close to the water—

The water hits my skin again, and this time the sound of rushing waves fills my ears. I feel something warm instead of the familiar cold that the ocean usually brings. 

Why is the water so warm? 

Then, suddenly, the rush of a coppery scent fills my nose. I open my eyes, looking up at the dark red sky as I gasp, sitting up to look at the ocean. 

Instead of the normal clear water with beautiful waves, I see red—blood—it’s all blood. 

And just like that, my body locks up, and I freeze. “Grace?” I say slowly, turning to the side, expecting to see Grace and Rocky—but they are gone, as if they weren’t there at all. 

The sand is no longer the many shades of yellow, gray, and brown. It is white, like powder—like the moon, like the AT-5. 

I’m not in Erid… 

I’m not… 

I look far off, expecting to see Grace’s beautiful house and my cottage, but I see nothing but a mountain of white. 

I’m not in Erid. 

Cold fills my blood as the water—no, the blood—rushes toward me again in a wave, my pants now sticky with the blood from the ocean. I can’t help but gag; my mouth opens to react to the smell as I place a hand over my mouth and push myself back from the sand. 

But I can’t—I’m frozen as I stare at the waves that grow stronger and stronger—and stronger. 

The blood rises higher and higher until it touches my waist. 

“Simon. Come to us. Come back to us. We miss you so much. We miss you.” 

There is a voice—it’s familiar. 

Mom. 

Mom…? 

“Mom?” I hitch a breath as the sound of the waves continues to fill the air. It is so loud, like the sound is right beside my ear— 

It is horrible. 

Then suddenly, out in the distance, just far off in the blood ocean, something slowly rises from the waters. 

It fills my body with dread as I watch something—or someone—slowly rise from the blood. Their body is painted with blood—almost just like me—as the blood continues to rush higher and higher every time the waves return to the shore.

Whatever is in the distance looks human. Slowly rising up, head bowed, hair matted with blood, covering their face. But even from a distance, I can see it. Their smile, white sharp teeth, as they reach their hand towards me. I can see a single eye peering from behind their hair; it was red, much redder than the blood ocean that's slowly eating me up, dragging me towards it with every lap of the waves. 

Then they open their mouth to speak, blood rushing out of their lips, but I can hear their voice loud and clear, as if I’m just standing right in front of them. 

“Mommy misses you, Simon. Come back soon.”  

“Mommy is so sad to be so alone here, Simon.”  

“Mommy wants you home soon, okay?”  

“Simon…”  

“Oh, my baby boy.”  

“Come home, Simon.”  

“I need you.”  

“We need you.”  

I hear my mother again, and suddenly I have the ability to move, as if I snapped out of it. I let out a gasp that almost sounds like a scream, pushing myself back while letting out a yell. 

The white sand clumps on my hands, which are now drenched in blood, as I crawl backwards. My heart pounds continuously.

This is just a dream.  

This isn’t real.  

I’m supposed to be in Erid.  

I AM in Erid.  

It’s not real.  

It’s not real.  

It’s not real.  

The figure in the distance only laughs, showing their white sharp teeth as I curl up, placing my hands over my ears and rocking myself. This is just a dream; I have to wake up. I just have to wake up. I shut my eyes, hoping for the best. But nothing happens as I continue to rock myself. The waves get stronger, and the blood in the air becomes more prominent, slowly choking my senses. 

Wake up, Simon.  

Wake up—  

Wake up.  

“Simon?” I gasp as I open my eyes, letting out a choked scream. Grace lets out a surprised yell as I sit up. My clothes are littered with sand, as well as my hair, and I let out breathless gasps, a hand clutching my chest as I struggle to catch my breath. 

I almost yell when the water from the ocean almost touches my feet, moving back in shock before realizing it isn’t blood from the blood ocean. I calm down. 

At the side, Grace’s hands hover as he kneels on the sand. He moves back on his hunches as if giving me space (I almost want to thank him for that).

It takes me a while to reorient myself, trying to come back to reality. The air is cold, but not uncomfortably so. The water is cold as well, which means it's just water. The waves are loud, but not as loud as the blood ocean’s. The air has a salty taste. 

I can smell the soap that Grace uses; we have the same, but his seems stronger than mine—maybe because he uses more of the soap than I do, or maybe because it clings to his skin better than mine.

 I try not to pay attention to the fact that I’ve noticed that, too. 

“What’s wrong with Simon, question?” I hear Rocky say as I slowly focus on him and Grace, my eyes trailing over Grace’s face, the stubble on his jaw, the smile lines, the blue eyes, and the tousled, messy hair that has a few bits of sand clinging to it. 

Then I look at Rocky, who is also leaning close, making clicking noises. 

I let out a sigh. Just a dream. Just a dream. 

I bring a knee up and knock my forehead on it, letting out a sigh of relief. What a fucking dream. 

“Hey, can I touch you?” I hear Grace say, and I realize my eyes are closed. I open them again and lean back. 

“Yeah,” I respond, still a bit relieved that that small lapse was just a stupid dream that somehow managed to fit through my sleeping state, which I was pretty sure meant I couldn’t dream. But maybe I’m just healing now, turning into a normal human who isn’t infected with a disease from the moon where I came from.

Rocky steps away as Grace sits beside me, placing a hand behind my back, almost trailing up the back of my neck. 

It feels warm, and I almost want to lean over, but I stop myself, letting Grace pat my back in an awkward manner that feels like he’s holding back. It’s almost pitiful. But I appreciate it nonetheless.

“‘S fine now,” I sigh. 

“Simon making pained noise, like sick noise, bad bad bad bad. Rocky and Grace worried. Just bad dream question?" Rocky moves back into my peripherals, looking nervous as he fiddles with his claws. “I guess you can call it that,” I shrug. 

“What dream about question?” Rocky asks. 

“Rocky,” Grace groans, sighing. I almost snort at that, but I fall into a deep thought at Rocky’s question. For a moment, I think of what to say. 

Should I tell them what the dream was about? It’s not like they don’t know about the blood ocean; I’ve already told them as much. Sure, it’s surface-level information, but they know about it.

But at the same time, I don’t really want to burden either of them when they already have so much to take care of. 

Rocky has his kids and is dealing with all this Earth stuff. Grace is the one teaching everything about Earth to these Eridians. 

And here I am, having nightmares about something from the past that isn’t even related to this world. The fear almost feels irrational. 

“I dreamed about Grace’s smelly socks and that I was back in his house again,” I finally said, as Rocky let out a sound that resembled a horn being pressed repeatedly—he was laughing, while Grace made an offended noise. “My socks do not smell!” he yelled, leaning away from me. 

I tried not to chase the sensation of his warm, heavy hand as Grace glared at me, pouting angrily as if he expected me to apologize. 

I just shot him an unapologetic grin as Rocky continued to laugh, almost rolling in the sand. “Grace smells bad. Leaky blob smells bad!” Rocky kept laughing, and I cracked a smile at that. 

“I can’t believe this. I’m out of here,” Grace huffed, annoyed with us as he stood up, harumphing like a kid, and stomped away. 

I just shook my head at that.

—

The last two canines fell out, and the two that fell much earlier than the present grew faster than I expected. 

They’re a normal white, almost a bit perfect. Too perfect, but it’s normal and human enough that I was a bit miffed because I expected something wrong or something strange to come out. 

It is sharper than the old one—I’ve compared it because I still have the fallen tooth with me, even though I was told a few times I should just give it away to the scientist so they can do some research. I gave my other three away, so now I have just one. 

Maybe… I don’t know. My nerves, I guess. 

I’ve seen human anatomy from Grace’s books enough to think of the worst. Even though Grace and Joseph kept telling me that it’s healing normally, and the reason why my canines are coming out faster is that of the antibiotic I’m forced to drink (or at least an upgraded version of it). It’s just speeding up the normal process of teeth growing.

My gums are getting better—no more severe bleeding, although it sometimes does. Mostly, that’s because I brush too hard at the empty holes where my other canines should be. So maybe my fears are a bit… misplaced. 

But that’s pretty much normal for little old me, I guess.

“Teeth good, healthy, much healthier than the old ones. Other teeth not fall. Very very strong,” Joseph said as I felt him messing around with my teeth, giving them an experimental tug. It doesn’t itch as it used to anymore; the feeling is light now, barely recognizable, focusing around my canines. 

Especially the newly grown ones.

I feel like I want to bite something—almost like teething (I’ve read a bit too much on teeth now, and teething is normal for children, and I'm not one of those).

“New canine will grow soon. Drink more antibiotics for better results. Joseph happy happy happy,” Joseph says, and I breathe a sigh of relief. “Great,” I said simply.

Great. One problem down, a few more to go.

Joseph chirps at that. “You said that I’ll eventually start to lessen my food intake, but until now, eating more than three plates isn’t helping me. I’m still hungry. And sometimes I can’t stand bright lights,” I finally said, as I can almost see Joseph sigh and slump over in defeat.

I’m probably the worst of the worst human patients he’s got. 

I come in with problems he fixes and come back with more new problems he has to address. 

It’s almost the same as the laptops I’ve seen engineers try to recreate. 

“Simon many, many problems,” Joseph says, sighing as I snort. Tell me about it. 

I agree with him a hundred times over. “You’re getting tired yet?” I say, mostly as a joke, as Joseph lets out a small croon. “Joseph not tired, but worry yes. Humans so soft and always weak. Unlike Eridians, hard to be sick,” he says, and I snort a bit at that. 

“Joseph will bring help from other Eridian doctors for stomach problems and eye problems. Hopefully, the problems are temporary. Better better better,” Joseph says. 

I nod at that. I don’t mind. 

After that, there are a few hours of testing. They test my reaction time, forcing me to walk with one eye covered and the other as well. I had to read a large letter chart propped on a board carried by Eridian nurses a few steps away from me, the top being the largest and the bottom being the smallest. 

With the lights above, I barely got to the seventh line, and when they dimmed the lights, I was able to read at least until the tenth. 

I always knew I had poor eyesight, but I didn’t think I had issues with light before. But then again, even before being thrown into the SM-13, I was already dealing with the fact that our cells are always dark and dim. 

I also found out that my dominant eye is apparently my left. 

Then I had to look through a weird machine where Luca, another Eridian doctor, explained to me that it would check how much light is being sent inside my eyes. 

I have no idea why they didn’t start with that, but I understand that they have to do a lot of tests to understand the problem. 

And I got my results pretty quickly at that.

Joseph made sure to explain it to me in simple terms since I’m not really good with medical terminology. Apparently, some part of my eye is too thin, which is why the light bothers me and causes extreme headaches and irritability. 

The only solution is to stay in dimly lit places and, ideally, to wear tinted glasses to protect my eyes from the sun. 

In other words, the test confirmed that I was right—there is something wrong with my eyes—but it didn’t provide a real fix aside from avoiding bright areas. If avoidance isn’t possible, like with the sun, I can just wear glasses. Joseph had me create a pair as soon as I got the results.

We mostly moved on to discussing my stomach problems. Unfortunately, I had to refrain from eating for a few hours before the test (but I ate earlier before the test so… Tomorrow it is), so I left the lab with a promise to return tomorrow and a pair of xenonite-rimmed tinted glasses over my face.

“You know I can always tell the guys above to keep the dome in a cloudy state,” Grace said as I sat beside him, watching the kids run around the shore and play in the water. I adjusted the glasses on my face and turned to him, noticing his own glasses hanging off the side of his ear. 

I was almost flattered by his words, if he wasn’t so insistent on it. “You don’t need to,” I said. Grace sighed, shaking his head. 

“I want to. Besides, I’m getting tired of good weather; I want cloudy days too and fog, especially the rain.” He rocked his leg, biting his lip as he looked down to pinch a stray lint on his cardigan while I hummed.

“Okay,” I said. “I don’t really like wearing glasses.” I added, which made Grace grin. “You feel me,” he joked, offering his palm as I gave him a half-hearted high-five. 

Grace winked at me, causing me to snort.

“I’m just wondering why you would have that problem. I don’t think you had it back then,” Grace said. “Me neither, but I guess the fact that in my world there are no suns and energy is conserved by keeping things dark and dim most of the time might be why,” I replied.

Grace hummed. “That must suck, to be dark for so long. Do you know humans can’t live without the sun? There are a lot of physical and mental effects to not getting it.” He rambled.

“I can’t imagine,” I deadpanned as Grace snickered.

I looked into his eyes—I couldn’t see the blue. I moved my glasses and let them hang off my ear, just like him. Grace paused before grinning. 

“Hey, you’re doing it like me,” he joked. “But kidding aside, you should keep wearing them until I get the engineers to fix the dome and keep it cloudy in the mornings,” he said, and I waved my hand dismissively.

I had been dealing with headaches for days until the test today. It’s not like it’ll change anything at this point. 

“It’s fine—I hate looking at things and not being able to see them clearly. I can’t see your—” I stopped myself before I could say ‘eyes,’ feeling a bit embarrassed. “My?” Grace asked.

“Nothing, forget about it.” I cleared my throat as Grace pouted, nudging me with his shoulder. I leaned away, and he scooted closer; our hands almost touched, but he moved his away as we sat shoulder to shoulder.

“Come on, what was it that you were about to say?” Grace insisted, grinning from ear to ear as I huffed at him.

“Stop it,” I grumbled, pushing him away without any real strength.

Eventually, Grace calmed down from teasing me, and we spent a few minutes just enjoying the calming air. 

“Do you want to come to my house later and have dinner with me?” I asked—mostly because I just realized it had been a while since we both sat in the same room. As in—four walls, not just out here in a cave. A cave has one wall opening; a room has four walls. 

And we’ve never eaten properly at the same table ever since I was finally able to eat real food. I knew Grace had been wanting that since then.

I saw Grace flush a bit before he gave me a grin that could only be described as mischievous. 

“Simoooon,” he said, with a hint of something in his tone, dragging out my name as I furrowed my brows at him. 

Grace loves to poke fun at me a bit too much; I think I’ve become desensitized at this point, like those horses I’ve seen in the videos on his laptop. 

They get slapped around by colorful, noodle-like foam, and at first, they get scared, but then they just don’t care anymore. That’s me; I’m the horse, and Grace is the noodle slapping me again and again.

It’s nice, I guess. I don’t think I was ever poked fun at as a kid because people mostly meant the things they said about me and didn’t care whether I actually got hurt.

“Are you flirting with me? You’re asking me on a date, right? How sweeeeet!” Grace asks playfully, leaning his cheek against my shoulder. I almost jumped at the contact; his hair tickled my right ear, and I shivered before I realized what he had just said.

I was utterly disappointed by this man-child.

I pushed my glasses up my nose once more, stood up, and Grace fell from where I was sitting, just waving goodbye at me. 

“Hey! Wait! I was kidding! It’s a yes! A hundred times yes! We can cook something with my meat!” Grace joked as he followed after me.

Oh god, don’t say it like that, Grace. 

Please.

I turned to him, disgusted, making sure he knew it well because my face surely mirrored my feelings. Grace let out a loud laugh that seemed to come from the depths of his torso, bending over and laughing so hard that I had to physically keep him from falling.

The children looked over at us from the shore, chirping with interest because they heard their favorite human teacher (I’m pretty sure they only have one teacher considering there are just the two of us on this planet). 

They all returned, their suits a bit wet, chittering and chirping in excitement as they flocked to Grace. “No, no, this is happy tears,” he answered Henry, who was tugging at his pants and letting out a worried warble. 

“I was laughing—yes, I’m pretty happy,” Grace said to Keith.

I stepped back, feeling warmth spread across my chest. Class eventually continued, and this time I helped with the teaching because Grace needed a test subject to stand in one place as he demonstrated gravity, which he apparently had to tweak so it wouldn’t hit me; after all, everything is much heavier here in Erid.

I had to watch a large metal ball almost hit my face before it stopped, barely grazing my nose as the children crooned excitedly. 

“They all have good memories. I’ve already taught this to them, and they know it really well, but I didn’t have anyone to test it on like I do with my kids back on Earth. They love this kind of stuff,” Grace told me after class ended. 

“The kids here liked it too,” I said as I wiped the board clean of the writings Grace had made with his marker.

Grace smiled at that. “I—yeah, I know… It’s not hard to amaze them from time to time. After all, we’re aliens on their planet,” he said.

I hummed at that and noticed a few Eridian children milling about. I saw Sandy and Poe chattering to each other; they probably wanted to speak to Grace. “Hey, your kids,” I said to Grace, who turned his head, noticing Sandy and Poe. 

“Oh! Hey, what’s up, you two? Do you need something?” Grace asked, kneeling beside them.

I let their conversation fade into the background as I cleaned around Grace’s equipment (that’s why I’m the assistant after all—not to really teach, even if I'm called a teacher assistant. Mostly, I clean up after Grace because I don’t think he’s learned how to do that yet).

“Oh no, no, no, you can’t do that. Your mom—she’s… She’s very busy, okay? And a little sick too. She has to stay here with us for now, but she’ll come back soon. You don’t have to worry. But you can’t go to her right now, okay?” Grace said as I heard Sandy let out a sad chirp, slumping over sadly. 

I watched them for a moment; the conversation got quieter, and I couldn’t hear anything after that, so I stopped listening. 

Eventually, Sandy and Poe left, and I could hear Sandy’s sad chirps.

For a moment, Grace and I were quiet, just cleaning up. “What happened?” I finally asked as I saw Grace almost trip over a box but easily catch himself. 

“I—huh what?” Grace asked, spluttering as I looked at him. 

“Sandy looks troubled… er, sounds troubled,” I said, shifting on my feet slightly.

Grace was quiet for a moment. 

“Just uh, her mom’s sick,” Grace replied.

Oh.

“Oh,” I said. “What happened?” I asked slowly.

Grace sighed, leaning against one of the black boxes and palming his face, sending his glasses askew. “Nothing bad, just—Eridian disease… a serious one,” he explained.

“I thought Eridians don’t get sick,” I said, walking up to him and leaning against the same box, inches away.

“It doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. You know about cancer, right? It’s kind of like that—not the cancer part. But they have this sickness, basically, when they lose their mate,” Grace said. 

“Their mate,” I echoed. 

“Yeah, their mate… kind of like heartbreak, you know? It’s been a hundred years since Sandy’s mom lost her mate, and she’s got a sickness. You could call it heartbreak. Before I was even born, she was already sick, and now I’m here… The Eridians thought I could help. I mean, Rocky thought we could help her if we both put our minds to it—both saviors of two planets,” Grace said with a small sigh.

Oh…

That’s heavy. I didn’t think Grace was dealing with this kind of thing—and somehow he had time for everything. 

“When did you start working on her?” I asked, watching as Grace nibbled on his lip a little. 

“Ah—uh, two years ago. She was brought here… in hopes we could help her—we’re trying, even until now,” Grace shrugged.

“Did you find a way?” I ask. Grace gives me a tight-lipped look. “Not yet.” He shakes his head and scratches the back of his neck. 

We both fall silent at that. 

With everything going on, he still had time to work on me too. How hard has Grace been working? I should have known—I mean, I’ve known. I knew Grace is a busy man; I knew he’s sought after by most of the Eridians here. 

He’s the last and only human (aside from me) here; they need everything from him before he dies. After all, Eridians live for hundreds of years, much longer than our lifespan. 

I didn’t think it’d be like this. I guess I can finally provide an answer and reason for why he’s often tired and how his room never looked lived-in. It’s because he never has time to even walk to his bed to sleep at all; he doesn’t sleep—he passes out. 

It’s been a while since I arrived in his universe, and I think every day I still learn more about Grace. A brave man, a strong man, and most of all, a very hardworking man. 

I admire him a lot. 

I shift a little, knocking my knee against Grace’s. I see him startle and turn to me; I just give him a smile, and he smiles back. 

“Tell me more about it?” I ask, tilting my head. 

Grace’s brows go up. “Oh no—I mean, I shouldn’t… We’re supposed to be focusing on what we should eat for dinner tonight,” he says. 

I make a shrugging motion. “We can make dinner and talk,” I reply. 

Grace is quiet for a second after that, then he gives me a grin. “A man after my own heart,” he jokes. 

For once, I want to play his game. “One and only,” I say back, causing Grace’s cheeks to flush. But he doesn’t shy away; he just smiles. 

“Alright, let’s finish cleaning up, and then we’ll go back to your house and see what we can cook up,” Grace says as he stands up, stretching his arms over his head.

Chapter Text

For Eridians, having a mate isn’t just about having a partner. It’s not someone you can simply kiss, hug, and hold. It’s more profound than that. A mate is someone with whom you connect on a soul, heart, and even mind level. 

The Eridians have something they call aligning their beats, which is somewhat like music, I guess.

That’s what makes them lifelong mates. If an Eridian loses a mate, they are forever bound to each other. If one dies, the other typically follows suit. Sure, some try to find a new mate, but most Eridians who lose their mates slowly wither and die too. 

Mated Eridians often die at the same time, or at least within the same year. They don’t last long without one another. 

It’s almost like that thing my mom showed me about soulmates. 

“It’s not something that has the possibility of cure… at least, not yet anyways.” Grace explains as we scour the cabinets. A bunch of bowls and plates are scattered on the kitchen island as we attempt to make steak this time. 

Grabby or Armando aren’t the ones doing it; it’s us. “If one mate dies, the other one does too,” Grace continues. “That’s why most Eridians are better off as a group of four or more. If one dies, the others can keep going, it’s… confusing. You need years to understand stuff about Eridans. It’s fine” 

“Four? As in four of them together?” I ask. Grace nods at me, passing me the oil as he heats up the pan. “Yeah, four of them together. They aren’t human, Si. They choose one who carries the egg, and whoever does gives birth. Didn’t I tell you this before?” Grace asks. 

“You mentioned them being hermaphrodites, but not this part about mates,” I point out. 

Grace hums. “Alright, fair point.” He clicks his tongue as I snort. “The thing about Eridians is that human social concepts don’t apply to them at all… So…” Grace makes some shrugging motions while trying to hold two things at once, which just looks like he’s wiggling his body. 

“Anyways,” Grace scratches his head for a moment. “Lucy isn’t dead or keeling over just yet. But the issue with widowed Eridians is that they forget important things—like eating, sleeping, and hygiene. They forget everything because of losing their mate. It really is heartbreak. And… Lucy has a kid, Sandy. Normally, widowed Eridians are given a soft, swift death, but Sandy’s still a juvenile, and there’s no one to care for her.” Grace sighs as he slowly places the well-seasoned steak I’ve been throwing spices on for the past few minutes onto the pan, then adds something else into the mix. 

“That’s sad,” I say, and Grace nods. “It is… I’m hoping I can find a way. I think Lucy wants to get better; I know she does. I’ve spoken to her many times when she’s lucid, and she always asks for Sandy.” 

“Can’t Sandy visit?” I ask. It seems fair that Lucy’s child could visit her. 

“No… not really. I mean—I don’t think I can show a child that their mom is dying,” Grace responds as he faces me, and I fall silent at that. That, is also a fair point…

“I see,” I mutter, leaning on the counter as I watch Grace toss oil over the steak. The house fills with the sound of sizzling as we both fall silent. 

“I’ll find a way eventually. I’m not keeling over, not until I save Sandy’s mom,” Grace says, his voice filled with something I can’t read. 

Maybe desperation—the tone is familiar. I’ve felt this a couple of times: wanting to save something I can’t reach or salvage. Like humanity… or mom… or freedom. The dream of having a better future. 

The desperate feeling of holding onto something you can’t save. Worse, the desperation for something you can’t have. 

I know that feeling; I know it all too well. 

“Don’t forget about yourself too,” I say after a few beats, and I see Grace pause for a second before continuing his cooking, not saying a single thing. 

“Yeah, well… if I do that, I’ll lose everything else. Gotta lose something to get something,” Grace shrugs, and I try not to react too harshly as he flips the pan onto a plate to distribute the steak and starts up the fire again for the second steak. 

I don’t talk after that, just choosing to watch Grace cook. I offered to do the second one, and Grace agreed. It came out burnt, but it’s fine. I’ll take this one; in fact, I’ll eat anything edible at this point. 

“Hungry, huh?” Grace says as I swallow a piece of the steak before chewing. Both of us are sitting at the coffee table, the TV is playing ‘The Office,’ the screen dimmed tremendously, and the whole house is enveloped in a dim yellow light. 

“A lot. I can’t eat tomorrow. I have a test for my metabolism,” I declare as I cut the steak and take another bite. Grace hums, doing the same. 

“That sucks. I hate fasting,” he says, and I snort at that. 

We focus on the show after that; the only sounds audible are our utensils hitting the plates. 

“You think I can find a way?” Grace asks. 

I startle at that, turning to look at him. “What?” I ask.

“Find a way to fix Lucy?” Grace says again as I swallow my food. 

“Fix is a broad word,” I said after a while. 

“Why’s that?” Grace raises a brow as I shrug. 

“Fixing means there is something broken about the person. Or let’s just say an Eridian… And… I don’t think there’s anything broken about Lucy. Nothing to fix. Maybe to… help—or I don’t know, other words that aren’t ‘fix,’” I say slowly, unsure of how Grace would react.

“Oh... hah. I got used to how Rocky said it that I never even thought of that.” Grace’s shoulder shakes as I eye him. “I don’t think she’s broken, or anyone is. But I just—I don’t know. There is something I want to save. And the word I want to use is ‘fix.’”

How heroic…

I hope back on Earth, Grace has multiple memorials around the whole planet because of what he’s done to save it. So they can remember how much of a hero he is and how far and willing he would go to make the world a better place. 

He’s really a hero; he may have been forced into this mission, but he’s a good man, he did the best he could, and he went through with it. 

He’s the kind of person I would dream would save me as a child. 

I guess now it’s not a dream anymore. He’s real, and he saved me.

“You’re a good man, Grace.” I say after a few beats as Grace seems to blush at that.

“Thanks, you’ve said that a lot of times now. I’m starting to think you’re just buttering me up,” Grace jokes as I roll my eyes at him. Sure. Buttering him up… Who even says “buttering up?”

“Are you going to come with me to class tomorrow, or are you going to be held up by Joseph the whole day?” Grace asks. 

“Maybe the latter,” I shrug. “I don’t know yet, shouldn’t you know that?” I add.

Grace snorts before he turns to me, leaning his elbow on the coffee table. “I’m a doctor, but not that kind of doctor,” Grace says. 

“You seem like a doctor to me when you helped me. Now with Lucy as well,” I point out as Grace lets out a small ‘hah’ under his breath, biting his lip.

“There was a lot more science in yours than not,” Grace says. 

“I can tell,” I reply as Grace just gives me a smile. 

“Just glad it all worked out in the end, huh?” Grace replies as he scrapes off his remaining steak.

I’ve already finished mine; now I’m just leaning on the leg of the couch, waiting for him to finish his. My stomach is still rumbling, but I don’t really care for it that much anymore. I think I have something better right now than worrying about whether I’m hungry or not.

“It did because you worked on it,” I say. “I believed you could. So…” I shrug a single shoulder.

“If anything, I owe you a lot,” I eye him with a look.

“Oh no… Not that,” Grace looks embarrassed, but I just give him a look as he falls silent.

I go back to focusing on what we’re watching. Grace is quiet, tapping a finger on the table as he sighs. He now copies me, leaning back on the leg of the couch, giving me a look before focusing on the screen in front of us.

“Thanks… for having that much trust in me… last time I had that, I was sent to space.” Knowing the context, I almost want to cringe, but Grace seems to find his own joke funny, grinning from ear to ear when I meet his eyes.

“That was a bad joke,” I said as Grace just scoots closer to me, pulling his knees loosely to his chest. Our hips are flush, and our shoulders knock together. I don’t move; I stay leaning back lazily on the couch leg. 

“It isn’t. I think I have the pass to make jokes like that,” Grace grins like a shithead as I snort, rolling my eyes at him.

We both fall quiet again. I should put the plates in the sink at this point for Grabby to clean, but I’m comfortable right now, and I don’t want to move. Grace is warm, and lately, I’ve been attracted to warmth.

I feel Grace fidgeting slightly beside me, sighing and breathing deeply, lowering his forehead on his knees from time to time as we watch. He looks like he’s trying to prepare himself for something.

“Hey, can I ask you for something stupid?” Grace asks. 

“I don’t think anything you do is stupid,” I reply (it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth as well. This is Grace we’re talking about), and I see Grace’s face shift into a small bashful look, almost shy—somehow it fits him.

“You said you owe me,” Grace says. 

“Oh?” I raise a brow as Grace groans, looking extremely embarrassed this time, palming his face. “Okay, this is stupid,” he says again, moving away, but I just grab his elbow—gently, not hard. It doesn’t take much pressure to stop him because he comes right back, and I keep my hand there.

“What is it? I was just kidding. Why are you allowed to make fun of me, and I can’t?” I say as Grace rolls his eyes at me. 

“Because I earned it,” he says haughtily, and I stifle a laugh, only cracking a smile.

Grace must have seen it because he grins at me well.  

“Alright, Saviour Grace.” I retort jokingly as Grace gives me a look. “Always too busy saving other living things in this universe, huh?” I add, and Grace just lets out a “pffft” and waves a hand.  

“What is it then?” I shake him, my hand still on his elbow.  

His eyes drift down to where I’m holding him. He’s wearing a shirt and an undershirt that cover his arms, but even then, it isn’t thick. I can feel his warmth underneath it—an incredible warmth that might as well burn my hand off with how slightly cold my skin is these days.  

“Okay,” Grace whispers, closing his eyes after a moment. He’s trying to psyche himself up for something, and it’s making me nervous too.  

I sit there, waiting.  

Grace just breathes, looking away for a moment and then up at the ceiling as if it has answers.  

“I—uh. Can I—” Grace stutters, refusing to look at me.  

“Just say it. I’m getting very tired of waiting,” I say, and Grace’s eyes snap to me right away. “CanIgetahugfromyou?” He speaks so quickly that I almost don’t understand what he’s talking about.  

“I—huh?” I ask, and Grace swallows. “Can I.... get a hug? I mean—I mean. Can I—uhm—hug you?” His voice rises a pitch at the end, and then he falls silent.  

“Oh,” I say.  

Grace’s face turns much redder; he moves back, but I don’t let him go. As always, even without pressure, Grace stops. “Okay…,” I say, and for some reason, my voice is shaking.

“Okay… You can… Sure… I suppose I should be glad you aren’t asking me any smart questions. Not sure how I'd help with that.” I joke, but I don’t have time to think because I’m suddenly full of blonde hair and the familiar smell of pine (like the trees at the back of my house), with a warm body pressing against me.  

Grace is already hugging me—tightly.  

I slowly wrap my arms around him, and Grace lets out a shaky breath, lowering his head into the crook of my shoulder as I mirror him.  

“Even the strongest hero needs someone to lean on, huh?” I say softly—softer than I expected my voice could reach.  

I was never really one to soften my voice; living in Eden and being taken by the COI meant your voice gets drowned out by everything else—whether it’s the screams of anger, pain, and madness, or silence itself.  

I feel Grace shudder as he snorts, his warm breath tickling my neck. “I’m not really a hero,” Grace murmurs, his voice low. “I don’t think I am,” he adds afterward.  

“For me, you are,” I reply.  

Grace doesn’t respond to that. Our hug lasts longer than the last one he gave me. At some point, my back aches, and I move back a little, but Grace pulls me back in, refusing to let go. I let out a choked noise.  

“Just a little longer, please,” Grace whispers. “I think I need this…” He adds, this time a bit more desperate than usual.  

So, I lean back in and just… I suppose I just hold him.  

Funny how the two of us met. Same two people who wanted comfort and touch that was impossible at first, but now that they’ve come together, it’s possible.  

Eventually (to my disappointment), the hug has to stop because—well, we’ve been doing it for a few minutes now. I don’t think I’ve hugged someone for more than thirty seconds before; that’s not a hug anymore, that’s cuddling.  

Grace helps me put the dishes in the sink, and Grabby doesn’t waste any time cleaning them. We come back to clean the living room, closing everything up.  

It gives me some time to think.  

Mostly about Grace.  

Or I don’t know—I hope it isn’t too weird. He’s a good man, much better than I am. He places a lot of weight on his own shoulders by his own decision, and I admire him for that—carrying the weight of the world on his own. 

But sometimes I think he’s doing it just to give himself purpose.  

I don’t know why I think that; it’s almost offensive. It almost feels like I’m projecting myself onto him.  

But something tells me I’m right.  

Grace has always been pushing himself to the brink of insanity even before I came here. It makes me wonder how bad he was before I actually showed up.  

I don’t think he’s ever had a good sleep… ever. Maybe he does sleep, but even in his sleep, he’s worried—he’s working. I wonder how he managed to get this far.  

As I watch him walk to the door, I can see his shoulders hitched up to his lower ears; his walk is tense, and he looks like he wants to say something.  

Something stupid, like maybe wanting to stay. Because I kind of want that too. The house gets cold at night, no matter how high I turn the temperature.  

“Grace,” I say as I stand by the doorway. Grace’s foot is already outside, but he stops. “Stay here for the night?” I ask when he turns to me, his eyes wide. His mouth opens and closes, and it takes him a while to respond. “—Oh,” Grace says.

“So?” I tilt my head down as Grace steps back inside the house, smiling shakily. “Yeah sure.” Grace swallows. For once he looks like some weight has been taken off his shoulder and he looks relieved.

“I can take the couch—” Grace said.

But I just shook my head. “We can share my bed.”

And like a pin drop. “What.” Grace said, shocked.

—

It didn’t take much convincing for Grace to get him to sleep on the right side of the bed while I lay on the left. The bed is large enough to have space between us, where Grace placed a pillow just in case he starts rolling around and accidentally hits me. I don’t mind.

I watch as Grace turns; the room is bathed in warm, dim yellow light as he props his chin on the pillow between us. 

“Hey,” he smiles. I turn towards him and lay my cheek against my palm. “Hey,” I reply, and Grace beams at me, lying there, hugging the pillow between us as he looks back at me.

“Tonight’s different, huh? I wonder why,” Grace says after a few minutes of silence and staring at each other. It doesn’t feel awkward; it feels kind of peaceful, actually. 

Watching him slowly blink at me, I can’t help but manually blink and copy him as well.

“Yeah,” I breathe out through my nose as Grace hums, closing his eyes for a moment and shifting a bit. The pillow moves a bit closer to me, and I can see Grace tapping his fingers over it, where he’s hugging it tightly. It’s close to where my other hand is lying on the sheet.

We go quiet again; Grace doesn’t open his eyes, so I copy him and finally close mine.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but… do you have someone important—or maybe someone you care about—back home?” Grace whispers, his voice low. I don’t open my eyes, just shuffle a bit closer, and I can now feel Grace’s warm breath hitting my forehead.

This might be the first time Grace has actually taken a step to ask, and I wouldn’t have answered it back then. I would have shot the question down. But—

I don’t know. Maybe Grace deserves to know a little more about my world. Not about me. God, not about me and my mistakes… but my world.

“Used to,” I say.

“Who are they?” Grace hums. “My mother,” I whisper. As I open my eyes, I meet Grace’s gaze, his eyes already open. “What was she like?” Grace asks. I swallow heavily at that, feeling something stuck in my throat as I look into Grace’s eyes.

It’s dimmed with the yellow light, but I can still see how blue they are.

“Kind, beautiful, patient. She’s the only one I had back there, but she died when I was 17,” I murmur. “Oh… I’m sorry.” Grace’s brows furrow, and I can see how his eyes tear up a bit. “It’s been years since then; it’s okay,” I hum.

Grace gives me a small smile. “I know she must be so proud of you, Si,” he says.

I wipe my face at that, covering it with my palm for a moment so Grace won’t see how hot my eyes are getting as I discreetly wipe away a few dropping tears. 

I drag my palm down my face as I look back at Grace. “How about you?” I murmur.

Grace gives me a tight-lipped smile, shaking his head. “Nobody—I had my kids only, the school… I don’t really have anybody,” he whispers.

Oh.

I watch Grace fiddle with a loose thread on the pillowcase, his eyes getting teary as he lets out a shaky breath. “You do now. Everyone here in this place,” I say after debating what to say. Grace raises his eyes to meet mine, cracking a small smile.

“Yeah… Yeah,” Grace lets out a soft laugh. “I do have them. Rocky, Adrian… You.” The last word is almost a whisper as I look into his eyes.

My chest flutters at that, and I have a small inkling of why, but I choose not to decode it right now.

“You’re a good man, Simon. I’m glad I got to meet you,” Grace says.

Oh…

I don’t know about that, Grace…

I don’t think I’m a good man. Or have been a good man. Or even will be. 

“I… don’t know…” I whisper, unsure. But Grace just grins. “Oh, I do.” And God… he sounds so sure of himself. I can’t. “How can you tell?” I ask, my voice small, and I don’t know if it’s because Grace trusts me too much.

“I just do.” Grace gives me a one-shoulder lazy shrug, smiling at me lazily. 

“Okay,” I murmur; I accept it at that. 

We both fall silent again. I close my eyes just so Grace can see how tears are building up in my sockets, placing a hand over my face.

“Hey, you said you owe me a lot,” Grace says as I lower my hand, watching him take out the pillow from between us. My brow furrows in confusion. What is he doing?

I watch Grace kick the pillow to our feet, biting his lips unsurely. He looks as he did earlier, mentally preparing himself for something—maybe to be kicked out or I don’t know…

“Hold me until I sleep?” Grace asks, his voice so low that it’s a whisper. 

I feel my breath catch in my throat as I nod.

Grace freezes, looking surprised I even agreed as I scoot closer. He doesn’t move at all, still frozen as I look at him. 

“Turn around?” I ask, and Grace nods dumbly, turning around as I move closer behind him. Slowly—like missing puzzle pieces—we fit together, my chest flush against his back and my hand shakily moving over his waist, loosely wrapping around it.

I feel Grace’s breath shudder and his body shake as I lay there, watching the back of his head, noting how his shoulder trembles. 

My palm rests loosely on his stomach, and I can feel him shaking. 

The last time I experienced this kind of comfort was with my mother; she would hug me from behind after wrapping my wounds following a long day of training. 

“Okay?” I ask quietly beside Grace’s ear. He shudders and nods quickly. “More than better,” he whispers, and I gently knock my forehead against the back of his neck, holding him close. I can feel his stomach rising and falling as he breathes rapidly.

For a moment, I wonder if he’s uncomfortable, if he doesn’t want to be in this position. But it's the only way I know how to provide comfort, just as my mother did, even as I grew older—I was still her little spoon. 

“Grace?” I whisper. “You okay?” 

He lets out a shuddering breath that sounds almost like a sob, nodding as he sniffs. “Yeah—yeah, it’s just… it’s been a while since someone held me like this…” 

“I thought you didn’t have anyone,” I murmur as I feel Grace lean back against me, his hand slipping over mine, resting gently on the back of my hand. His fingers are longer and more delicate than mine.

“I don’t… I’ve only dreamt of it,” Grace whispers, shuddering again and wiping his face. 

I can’t see his expression, but I know he’s crying; his hand returns to mine, slightly damp with tears. 

“Okay… now it’s real,” I say, laying my head on his shoulder and holding him tighter. 

Grace trembles. “Thank you,” he whispers. 

I hum in response, acknowledging that I’m finding comfort in this too. “Don’t think too much of it; you’re just warm, that’s all,” I say lightly. Grace laughs, a wet sound that breaks the tension. “Okay, you win,” he murmurs, and I can’t help but smile.

—

Nobody told me that a metabolism test would involve me running on a treadmill with a large mask covering my face. I’ve been too lenient in this new life of mine; I’m out of practice, and it didn’t take long for me to start feeling tired and dizzy as soon as I began running. “Simon, no need to rush. Just checking vitals. Why rush, question?” Joseph asks.

I pulled the mask down to my neck, grateful that my hair was tied back in a messy bun (which might mean I need a haircut). Still, I could feel some loose strands sticking to the back of my neck as I wiped my face.

“Maybe you should try not setting the treadmill so fast,” I suggested, hearing Julia chime in with a few notes as she adjusted it. “Again. Do it now so Simon doesn’t get tired. Simon needs proper body movement like exercise. Must also fix that,” Joseph insisted, pointing an accusing claw at me. 

I groaned and rolled my eyes, breathing hard as I jumped back onto the treadmill for another test.

Afterward, I was thrown into a shower to clean up, given some food, and thankfully, my test results came back right away. My metabolism is normal—neither high nor low. I should have no problems with eating; in fact, I shouldn’t be feeling too hungry at all.

“Not unless Simon is eating the wrong food. Food is not bad for the body, yes. But Joseph theorizes—like an Eridian scientist—that Simon is eating the wrong food, not right for Simon, wrong nutrition,” Joseph explained as I lowered the paper onto my knee, making a slapping noise as I sighed.

What does that even mean?

“You think I’m not eating right?” I asked. “Not that Simon not eating right, but that Simon eating the wrong food. Understand, question?” Joseph clarified. I nodded, then shrugged, then nodded again, before shrugging once more. “I’m eating normal human food as a normal human person,” I replied.

Joseph made a few clicking sounds and chirps. “Human food, yes, but what if Simon is different from Grace? Maybe Simon can use his own body to make his own food question?” he suggested.

Oh hell, not this topic again. It gives me the shivers.

“That’s a bit unsettling. I don’t know how to talk about this,” I said, as Joseph emitted sounds that resembled laughter. “Eridian scientist, maybe. Joseph isn't good at this. But Simon is very healthy—just needs to move his body; stop being lazy,” Joseph said, pointing a claw at me. I waved a hand dismissively, unable to stop myself from rolling my eyes.

I’m not being lazy. You go tell Grace he gives me a job so I can’t be “lazy,” then.

But I kept that to myself, rolling the paper into a scroll and smacking my forehead as I thought. Joseph isn’t wrong, though; I’ve lost more muscle than I should have. After the impromptu coma and lack of movement, I’m slowly degrading, so to speak.

Back in Eden, we were trained to be soldiers. Every day, we practiced and sparred one-on-one. Even after being taken in by the COI, I had minimal space in my single cell, but that didn’t stop me from working on my muscles. I used the bars in my cell to pull myself up.

Now… well, I have the space to exercise, but I don’t feel the "need" to do it. I’ve grown too comfortable here.

I smacked my forehead again, making a ‘thonk’ ‘thonk’ noise as I pondered. “So what do I do? Do you give out, um—an exercise regimen or something?” I asked.

“Joseph will use the thinking machine to determine the best exercises for Simon. Many body movements are needed, but not so much that they hurt the body,” Joseph explained. I nodded slowly.

“Okay… okay, that’s fine. Do I bring this home with me?” I raised the paper, and Joseph let out a sound that almost resembled a sigh.

Is Joseph getting tired of me?

As I walked down the halls, I glanced through the transparent xenonite walls, spotting some Eridian scientists inside, none of them wearing a xenonite suit. Grace had said it was hot in there, and I remembered the scar on his arm caused by Rocky due to the heat.

I wonder if the entire lab is designed to retain heat; that’s why the floor and walls feel the same as it does out here. It’s fascinating how they seem to have thought of everything inside this dome. I guess they had years to plan every detail.

As I tap the xenonite wall, a few Eridians turn to me, chirping excitedly and waving. I wave back and continue walking, taking in the environment. Everything around this place appears so well thought out. Only exceptionally intelligent people could create something like this, which makes me feel a bit out of place.

As I explore further, I decide to leave for a bit and stumble upon something interesting: an emergency exit door. I open it to find stairs leading both up and down. 

Do Eridians even use stairs? 

In any case, I take the exit for some exercise. There aren’t many stairs around the biodome, and despite spending more time in the lab than in my own house, I only just discovered this exit. The only other humans here are me and Grace, and I doubt Grace would ever use stairs, even if his life depended on it. 

As I run down the stairs, I count the steps under my breath until I reach the first floor, sighing as I push the door open. But just as I do, I collide with something, my foot getting caught on a hard, rough object, which causes me to trip and fall with a shout. I manage to catch myself with my arm and turn to see what I hit.

“Sandy?” I say, getting up to see the Eridian child crouched on the floor, trembling and scared. Sandy stands up, shaking and chirping.

I think she just said my name. “What are you doing here?” I ask, kneeling beside her. Sandy perks up at my voice and starts chirping and whistling a flurry of tunes, her claws flying around as if she’s gesturing something, I look around and back at her in confusion. 

I can’t understand a single word since she doesn’t have a translator, leaving me confused and lost.

“I—I don’t understand, Sandy. You can’t be here. I thought you were supposed to be in class. Where’s Grace? Let’s get you back, okay?” I try to be as gentle as possible, like how Grace would talk to them, then stand up.

There are no Eridians in the hallway, which makes me think Sandy must have snuck in since everyone else is likely busy. She lets out a loud honk that startles me, and I flinch as she grabs my leg, nearly causing me to lose balance. I turn to her fully.

Sandy chirps again, seemingly telling me not to take her back, clearly not wanting to leave.

“Sandy—look, you can’t be here, okay?” I explain slowly. I know she understands me, but I want to ensure she comprehends completely.

Sandy chirps once more, refusing to let go of my leg. I give it an experimental tug. “Sandy,” I say, hoping to sound firmer this time. She remains still. “Sandy,” I repeat, and she finally releases my leg, allowing me to step back and let out a sigh of relief. Knowing myself, I’d probably still be standing there if she hadn’t let go.

I’m not great with children, even though I help Grace with them—I mostly just clean up after him. Not this.

“I’m calling Grace, okay? You really can’t be here. He won’t be angry… hopefully.” I add the last part as a question. Before I can react, Sandy bolts towards the exit door, pushing it open and dashing up the stairs.

“Sandy!” I yell after her, running behind her. The door slams shut at the same time, slamming onto my face, I push it open with an annoyed groan. I peek up from the rails, spotting her nervously chittering as she pushes through the door to the fifth floor.

Damn, she’s fast.

I rush after her, skipping steps as I pant heavily, then burst through the door, only to see Eridian doctors coming and going—some scientists, some mechanics. But Sandy is nowhere to be found.

I sprint around the floor, checking rooms and peeking behind the xenonite walls, calling her name. “Have you seen Sandy?” I ask several Eridians, but they only offer confused glances and shrugs, along with chirps that I assume mean “no” in Eridian.

Eventually, I give up searching for her and race to the botany garden where Adrian’s office is located, bursting through the door to find Adrian chittering in surprise. I bend over, resting my hands on my knees to catch my breath.

“Simon something wrong question?” Adrian asks, hopping from where he stands. I raise a finger, still trying to recover.

Hold on, i need a fucking breather.

Wow, I am really out of shape. And it doesn’t help that I’m always so incredibly hungry, which is even worse now that I’m running around trying to find a kid in a place she shouldn’t be.

“Call Grace. One of his kids is here; her name’s Sandy, and she got into the lab and ran off. I can’t find her,” I said as Adrian let out a chirp of surprise at that. “An Eridian child got in question? Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad. Adrian, call Grace now and help!” I saw him rush out of the office as I groaned.

Great.

More running.

I rushed after Adrian as I saw him approach a panel, pulling and pressing buttons. Suddenly, everything turned dark, then flickered to light, but this time it was orange, pulsing black and orange again and again. “What’s going on?” I asked. “Adrian, close all machines around; all possible dangerous things in the lab for safety. Calling Grace now,” Adrian said. “Simon, try find Sandy while Adrian calls for help,” he added.

I made a confused gesture at that.

I had already tried, and I couldn’t find her. “I tried—” I began. “Try again, please,” Adrian urged. The translation sounded nice, but I had no doubt Adrian had definitely added a curse word in Eridian which Grace switched to 'please'.

“Do not start panic,” Adrian warned me, and I let out a little growl of exasperation at that comment. Who did Adrian think I was?

I am not—

I had no choice but to go back down, encountering a few Eridians running around in panic. I almost got knocked down by how fast they were passing by me.

Okay… I didn’t start the panic…

I stood there, confused, my hands on my head as everyone rushed by. One thing I’ve learned about Eridians is that they are loud. It’s like hearing multiple pianos being played at the same time, overlapping one another. 

Sometimes their range feels like ringing in your ears. “Okay… Oka… What the hell?” I said, hands on my head as I exhaled. The whole area was bathed in orange, every corner dark, and every single Eridian was panicking over a missing kid.

Okay, breathe, no use in panicking like them. Let’s calm down and try to think. No one does things for no reason, not even for jokes and giggles.

Why is Sandy here in the first place?

Sure, kids are naturally curious, and they sometimes try to go places where they aren’t allowed. That’s normal for human children too. But she had worked too hard to get in. While yes, earlier there hadn’t been many Eridians around, it still meant she had made an effort to get in.

Why would she be here—

Wait.

Lucy. Her mom. She’s here, right?

Sandy’s mom, she’s brought here to be cared for by Grace and the other doctors. That means she must be on the third floor where there are more ammonia-filled spaces blocked by the xenonite walls.

She’s probably being nursed there.

I ran back inside the stairwell and raced back up once more, panting as I stopped midway to lean against the wall to breathe before running up again and jumping over a few Eridians who couldn’t be bothered to move when I told them to.

“Sandy?” I finally yelled in an empty hallway. The walls were made of xenonite glass, and each room inside was empty; everyone must have come down (at least I knew Eridians used stairs for things like this).

“Sandy?!” I yelled again, this time louder, as I raced down the hall, pressing my face against each glass pane, expecting to see her inside. But no, I saw—

I stopped by a pane—

“Oh…” I whispered as I looked into a white room, seeing an Eridian; their body was sandy-colored, but with blue gems scattered around their legs, their body taller, taller than Adrian. They lay in some kind of box, limp, not moving.

The box they were in looked like it was made of xenonite-reinforced glass walls, and there were tubes connected to it as if something was being sent into the box. I didn’t know what it was, but it looked like they were placed there for a reason.

I could see the top of their body—the vent-looking part shifting slightly, moving up and down a few times.

I pressed my hand close to the glass, trying to get a proper look at the Eridian. Is this Lucy? Is this Sandy’s mom?

I tapped the glass, and I could see Lucy twitch, letting out a soft chitter and a weak trill. It winced. It was like hearing my voice hoarse. It sounded painful; in fact, it felt painful to listen to. I had never heard an Eridian sound like this before…

It’s…

Sad…

“Lucy?” I tapped my finger again, and Lucy chitters softly. It almost sounded like a ‘Yes?’ And I let out a sigh of relief.

I found Sandy’s mom, but Sandy is nowhere around, which means she’s still trying to find Lucy. “Your daughter’s here; she’s trying to get to you. She got in when she wasn’t meant to be here,” I said softly. I didn’t know if Lucy was lucid enough to hear me or if she was awake at all.

She made a noise, and I could only hope it means something good

Lucy moves, twitching as I watch her, biting the bottom of my lip as I see her trying to stand. “Don’t move—” I finally say, just as Lucy attempts to stand, only to hit the glass wall and let out a pained shrill shriek that makes my ears ring as I wince.

“Lucy–” I say, not before I hear a familiar chirp. I turn to the side to see Sandy at the end of the corridor, illuminated by the flickering orange light as she runs toward me. 

“Sandy,” I say, moving back to give her space to jump at the see-through xenonite wall. She lets out a sad chirp, almost a cry, as I watch her pound her claws on the wall. 

I let out a shaky sigh, leaning back until my back hits the opposite wall.

Lucy emits a sad warble as Sandy cries out again, hitting the wall repeatedly. I watch them, feeling a stone stuck in my throat as I see Lucy standing slowly, shaky, but she falls back down, and Sandy cries. 

I palm my face, feeling my eyes heat up as I look through my fingers. 

It’s a mother and daughter, unable to reach each other because one is dying while the other is being kept away from that fact.

It’s depressing to look at.

Lucy lets out a sad warble once more, giving up on standing. Sandy cries as I let out a shaky breath, placing my palm over my lips to stifle a sob, swallowing hard as I listen to Sandy’s cries while shaking my head. 

“Sandy,” I say, but she doesn’t listen. “Sandy, enough,” I say again as she pounds her claws on the wall. I lean against the wall, watching, my chest aching.

—

“Promise you’ll get better soon?” I fold my mother’s skirt on my lap as I hear her giggle by the bed. Her hands move slowly as she plays with a red rubber band, while I continue to fold our dried clothes. They smell damp, as if they’ve been stuck inside a metal cabinet, but I’ve gotten used to it.  

“Mom, stop laughing,” I say as I turn to her, seeing her grin as she adjusts her glasses up to her nose.  

“I’m not,” she shakes her head, still grinning. “Why are you laughing?” I pout at her as I fully turn around.  

She laughs again, shaking her head, and makes a star with the rubber band, showing it to me. “Nothing’s funny, baby. You’re just too serious. You’re starting to look like a monkey,” she jokes, and I sigh, rolling my eyes.  

“So what if I am?” I turn back to my work, folding more clothes and setting them aside. “Aren’t you sad? You’ll be stuck in the med bay. I don’t have anyone here back in our room.”  

I hear her snort. “Oh Simon, the med bay is just twenty steps away from this room!” She jokes, and I give her a disapproving look, frowning.  

“Mom.” I watch her motion for me to come.  

I sigh but stand anyway, setting the black shirt aside and sitting beside her. “Come play this with me, come on.” She moves the rubber band in her hand, letting it stretch across her fingers as I help her maneuver it, twisting it around her fingers and sliding mine underneath so the band switches onto my hand.  

She does the same move, albeit slowly and shakily, but I wait.  

“It’s just a cough, baby. I’ll be back soon,” she murmurs as I twist the band over her fingers and slide my fingers underneath to let it slip back onto my hand. I stretch the band onto my fingers and hand it to her, watching her slip it around my finger.  

“I know. But I don’t like seeing you sick,” I say. “It must be those COI’s. They came here and brought the sickness. One of them must have been sick or something,” I mutter.  

The band flies off my hand and down to the floor. I sigh, pinched and annoyed, as I bend down to grab it.  

“It doesn’t matter now, does it? It’s happened; all we can hope for is that I get better soon,” she says.  

“You will,” I respond as I slip my hands inside the rubber band, stretching it while letting my mother twist it around my fingers before sliding her fingers underneath to take it.  

“Visit me always, okay? I know you hate the med bay—” she says.  

“I will, of course I will visit you. Is that even a question?” I raise my head to meet her eyes as she smiles.  

“Good, good. Alright, what are we worried about then? You look like someone already died.” She laughs and pokes my cheek.  

I huff. She doesn’t let me take the band from her hand as she twists and turns it around before showing me a star.  

“Here is a star for my beautiful boy,” she says with a smile, and my frown turns into a small smile as I snort at her. “This might be the only star I’ll get to see,” I say jokingly, and my mother smiles.  

“One day, you’ll see a true star, and it’ll be the brightest star of all,” she murmurs.  

I look down at the red rubber band in her hand, still formed into a star.  

“I hope we both see it, Mom. It’ll be nice,” I say slowly. “We’ll both see the brightest star in the whole world.”  

She smiles at that. “That would be nice indeed.”

—

I didn’t process what I was doing at first, but I was pressing the buttons on the wall that I had seen Eridians use when they entered the room—Sandy followed behind me as I tried to remember the symbols they pressed. 

The door let out a loud whoosh as Sandy chirped excitedly.

“Grace is going to kill me for this, everyone is going to kill me. Rocky, Adrian, Grace. Welp–” I muttered under my breath as I wiped the tears from my cheeks. I felt stupid—or I didn’t know. I felt homesick. Not because I missed my universe or Eden, but because I missed my mom.

I shakily let out a breath; it felt heavy as tears fell down, and I hastily wiped them away, trying to breathe evenly.

The door opened—it wasn’t the room yet; there was another door after it, and I let Sandy enter. “The symbols are the same from the inside, I think. Do you remember what I pressed?” I asked Sandy, who bobbed excitedly as she ran inside the chamber. 

The door closed, and I moved by the see-through xenonite wall, watching the inner door open when Sandy clicked a button beside her.

Sandy ran excitedly inside, almost knocking a few shelves down in her enthusiasm. She quickly peeled her xenonite suit off and basically pushed herself up to the box where Lucy was kept, chirping excitedly. Lucy moved, letting out a soft chirp, and it was as if she had been given strength. She eagerly turned, pushing herself up to put a claw on the wall of the box as Sandy did the same.

I smiled and leaned back against the wall behind me, sliding down to the floor and watching them interact. I knew Adrian would be angry; I was sure Rocky would be too, and I worried more about Grace. But I understood what a grieving child was like, and Sandy was on that path at the moment. I didn’t want her to end up like I had.

Lucy looked stronger now with Sandy around, and they chirped at each other— it was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. The hallway was still filled with flickering orange light, and no one had found us yet. However, it wouldn’t be long before they arrived. I would have to get Sandy out soon before they discovered I had let her in.

I watched them for a while, a small smile on my face. I could see how much more lively Lucy seemed; it was as if seeing her daughter made her feel at least a bit better. 

Sandy turned to me, chirping again, and ran towards the door as I stood up and walked over. Hearing the beeps on the other side, I let her change back into her suit before she tapped the door. I opened it again, and she came out, chirping happily at me.

“Good?” I asked, smiling down at her as Sandy barreled straight into my leg. It was almost like a hug, but it looked more like she was rubbing her body against my leg. 

I glanced at Lucy, who now lay down, chirping softly and letting out a happy trill as I let out a relieved sigh. A happy Eridian is a healthy one.

“Let’s get you out of here, okay?” I said as I stepped back. Sandy chirped excitedly, and we both bid our goodbyes to Lucy before walking down the corridor in silence. 

I knew I shouldn’t have let her in. I didn’t know what they were doing, and I had no idea if whatever I had done could hurt Lucy, especially allowing her daughter in without any adult supervision nearby. I was certain I would hear about it later.

I knew it well, but I didn’t think I regretted it. Maybe it was just me, or maybe I felt it was cruel for them to decide not to let Lucy’s child visit, even if she was dying. I believed that the child should know; it shouldn’t be hidden from them. 

They deserved as much information as possible, especially considering that she was Sandy’s mother after all.

“Guess we’re both leaving this lab happy huh, Sandy?” I say lightly. I expect a chirp back. Me and Sandy never really talked that much, but I’ve seen how lively and social she is with other Eridian children.

I stopped when I heard a weak sizzle, finally realizing that Sandy wasn’t walking beside me. Turning around, I saw her crumpled form on the floor, shaking, with steam coming from her body as I stood there shocked.

Shit.

Chapter Text

Shit, shit, shit, shit!

Shit, fuck!

Fuck!

Sandy didn’t wear her suit right—she couldn’t close it properly, and now she’s burning from the inside. I don’t know how to fix it for her—

“No, no, no, no,” I mutter under my breath as I kneel beside Sandy, spotting a small slit on the side of her leg where I can see her skin slowly burning, sizzling like something frying.

Sandy shrieks in pain—a piercing, agonizing cry that stabs my ears. My eyes water, not because I miss my mom this time, but from the smell, the heat pouring from her body, and the steam burning my throat and nose.

“Shit, shit, shit.” I try to cover the hole with my hand, only for something to burn me. I yelp loudly, flinching away and clutching my hand—my palm is bright red and stinging. Shit.

I can’t cover her suit—

I have to get her back to her mother.

I grab Sandy and try to haul her into my arms. I almost collapse on top of her from her weight.

I can’t carry her—

Shit, shit.

Sandy screams again as the suit tears further, and her whole body starts turning into this sooty mass sticking to her skin, steam pouring off her in waves. I heave her up somehow—forcing myself to carry her weight I know I couldn't lift on a normal day.

But panic and adrenaline give people herculean strength (I’ve read it in Grace’s books; I guess that part stuck with me because I’ve lived through moments where it saved my life. Turns out there’s science behind it).

She’s heavier than Grace and me together, but her agonized wails spur me on. As I lift her, the open hole presses against my arm and it burns instantly, making me choke out a yell. 

I almost dropped her.

My sleeve sizzles, my arm blisters, but I run down the hall—her skin against burning against my skin—as I nearly trip over a panel, slamming symbols with my one good hand, the other burning from the heating xenonite suit.

My left arm is barely functional by the time I drop her inside. The outer door closes and I freeze, hesitating to open the inner door. Smoke fills the chamber blocking my vision, cleansing us.

Inside will be ammonia. 

I heard enough from Grace’s stories about it, how hot it should be and how it feels to breathe in the same air as the Eridians. It was painful (more painful than the burning pain I can feel spreading from my arm to my shoulder. I’m too scared to look down. Sandy needs me now).

Well, shit.

Deadly for humans—but all I need is to push her in and close the door quickly, before I'm completely burned.

Lucy wakes, shrieking as Sandy continues to sob and this time, I didn’t hesitate, in fact my body acted before my mind actually made a decision. 

I punch the button—the inner door opens and I gag at the heat. My entire body starts burning, not just my arm. It’s like standing in front of a blazing fire (worse than the furnace room where they burned bodies…). My nose and throat sting. Acid fills my lungs and my eyes blur until it feels like spikes are driving into my skull.

I pick Sandy up again and shove her into the room, collapse backwards with a choked cry, and hit the button to seal the inner door. Smoke blasts my face as I grunt, rolling onto my side, clutching my left arm with a guttural growl of pain. I slam my head on the metal floor, desperate to distract myself from the blinding agony.

Fucking fuckity fuck. This hurts like hell. Oh god. This is agony. Grace wasn’t kidding about how hot they are.

I can almost laugh because shit! It does feel like hell. Oh my God. This is going to kill me isn’t it? I’m so goddamn stupid.

Fuck.

God!

It’s a white-hot, familiar pain, like what I felt on the iron lung, when my hand got stuck in the pipes because of the vines attached to my flesh and I had to tear my arm free—ripping bone, nerves, and flesh like it was nothing.

From just above my inner elbow down to my wrist, my skin is—gone, seared off by the burn. I can see raw flesh—god, is that my bone? How long was I carrying her for my flesh to actually melt away?

It was horrid—it was bleeding, the heat enough to peel the skin and flesh off my arm. I refused to adjust how I carried Sandy, causing her body to press deeper into my skin as I brought her back into her proper atmosphere.

Fuck. Oh god, it hurts.

Shit—

I punch the ground in response to the pain—really, it’s just me trying to distract myself from the main pain with another, but it doesn’t work. My ears are ringing, and I’m pretty sure I hear someone screaming.

Wait. Is that me?

My vision blurs as the pain finally registers. Through the ringing, I hear chirping. I turn my head—my eyesight flickers in and out, and between the agony, I sense something else.

Hunger.

For a moment, I’m confused about why that matters when my left arm is practically melting to the bone.

I see Lucy chirping and crying, and Sandy finally moving, her body covered in soot but no longer steaming or burning, letting out soft cries through the relentless ringing in my ears.

I lick my dry lips—

My mouth tastes like I swallowed a copper wire...

I’m just lying there, listening to my heartbeat, the burning pain surging through my body so intensely I’m basically paralyzed.

Am I going to die?

I smack my lips, noticing how dry they are, the taste of copper flooding my mouth.

I think I’m dying.

“Simon?”

I hear a faint voice—it’s Grace.

Grace.

Grace is here.

He’s going to save me again and I won’t be able to stop myself from admiring him more than I should.

Suddenly, my body almost forgets that my left arm is a lost cause as I push myself up. Not “I”—it’s like something compels me to move. I open my mouth to call for Grace.

But what comes out is more of a growl, and I see blood dripping down my lips and pooling below me as I pant, staring down at it. The outer door of the chamber opens, and before I know it—

I’m holding Grace down. His face is pale, terrified, his glasses knocked off.

His arm is holding me up.

And my nose is no longer stinging with acid—now it smells good, like the steak Grace made us last night, so much better than the bland kind Grabby cooks.

“Simon! Stop! Stop!”

Grace’s mouth is moving, but I can’t focus—everything is red, my ears ringing, moments flashing by in jerks. Suddenly, I see blood spilling onto Grace’s face. It would be grotesque if I could even process what was happening.

Blood pours over his face, his mouth opening wide, his features drawn tight with pain.

Then I realize.

I’m biting his arm. I'm hurting him

Not just biting—my teeth are puncturing his skin repeatedly like I want to eat his flesh and blood. I’m biting and sucking, swallowing like I do with my food—no chewing, just gulping it down. Blood is filling my throat, warm like the hot chocolate my mother used to make when we still had enough resources. She’d sneak it to me from the canteen.

“Simon. Stop…” Grace’s voice breaks through, and suddenly I’m jolted out of the haze.

I stopped drinking (when did I start? How did it get this far?).

I finally realize what I’ve done. I look down at Grace, who stares up at me, terrified. Blood is speckled across his face, neck, and lips. His arm—oh god—his arm has four large punctures, bleeding heavily.

It looked like something ripped his flesh off.

“Grace?” I cough out, shaky as I lean back, staring at my hands. Blood is dripping down.

From where?

I raise a hand to my mouth, feeling the sticky fluid on my lips and tongue. Slowly… I watch blood drip from my lips and onto my palm, falling in drops… Oh god… What…?

The taste of chocolate, It wasn’t chocolate at all…

It’s blood.

Grace’s blood.

I look back at his face, twisted with terror and pain and something else I can’t quite place.

“Grace! Simon! Rocky here! Did Simon Grace find Sandy question?” Rocky barrels around the corner. Adrian and two larger Eridians follow and, seeing the scene, freeze in their tracks.

Grace’s head falls back in pain as he clutches his wounded arm. He lets out a pained yell, muffling it with his other hand, tears falling down his face as I watch him. Frozen.

My left arm—which should be burned to the bone—is healed.

—

The room is white, fitted for only one person. The walls are padded, and there is a singular bed and a toilet with a sink above it. I’m getting memories from back when I was in the COI. Except this time, instead of black walls, it’s now white.

I don’t know what’s worse. There is a singular door, but it’s locked from the outside; there is no pulley system where I can open it. I’m basically locked up here.

I woke up just an hour ago, realizing that where I am wasn’t my house, not even my room. But a cell, made just for little old me.

Grace was taken to be healed, and so was Sandy. And because I attacked Grace—no one was around to decide what to do with me. So Adrian did what I was thinking.

He put me in a cell.

Well, not a cell. It isn’t bad; it’s small but not too small. I have water that is placed in the wall where there is a foldable table I can push the feet so it can fold back to the wall.

I sit on the floor, my knees curling up to my chest.

There’s no more blood on me. I was given a chance to change my clothes and wash myself from Grace’s blood.

Blood that I drank from him after biting him in the arm.

I think I’m still in shock because I haven’t moved in a while from the floor since I was brought here to this room. The light above dims a bit, probably to keep me comfortable because bright lights hurt me.

I hurt Grace.

I don’t understand what happened.

In fact, I can’t even remember what happened after I heard Grace call for me from the hall. And then I came to be after I decided that turning Grace into a chew toy seemed to be the smartest thing I should do in my useless life.

I let out a shaky breath at that as I bury my head between my knees. I sit there like that for a few hours, not moving at all. It’s not until my mind goes back to Grace and Sandy that I start to pace around the small area, breathing hard.

I saved Sandy, and whatever happened with Grace must be a mistake, right? I must have… tripped… or maybe panicked because I was hurt…

I look at my unblemished left arm, seeing no wound.

I fall onto the bed, sitting heavily as I slam a fist onto my forehead.

I healed.

How?

How did that work?

How did I heal? I knew I was hurt; Sandy burned not just my skin but my flesh too—

I stop when I hear a knocking on the door, and I don’t waste any time standing up to see a hole open at the bottom. I crouched down to see Adrian. “Adrian,” I sighed out, relieved. My heart is racing, and I try to calm down.

“Simon, okay question?” Adrian asks.

“Is Grace okay?” I ask, not responding to his question as Adrian lets out a few clicks and hums. “Grace okay, arm cleaned from infection and now wrapped. Grace sleep good,” he says, and I let out a relieved sigh at that, nodding and leaning my forehead against the door as I let out a shaky breath.

“Sandy?” I ask.

“Sandy now moving, healed good. Sandy now responsive,” Adrian says as I nod again, relieved. Both of them are okay…

We both fall silent, and I can see Adrian shift on his claws. “What happened, Adrian? I can’t—I—I remember some bits and pieces. But—did I… really…” I stop, unsure if I can say, “hurt Grace” as I fall onto my knees, feeling like I swallowed a stone.

Adrian lowers himself to the floor as well, as if he’s preparing me for something to talk about.

“Adrian not know what’s wrong with Simon. Simon is different,” he starts slowly as I swallow painfully. “Simon attack Grace. Bite Grace’s arm and drink Grace’s blood. Simon not sick from blood. Simon now stronger and heal properly because of blood,” Adrian continues as I let out a shaky breath, pressing the back of my hand over my eyes.

Okay… okay…

I’m trying to process what Adrian meant.

“What does that mean, Adrian?” I ask, whispering. “Simon turn into something different. After hurt, Simon’s body responds extremely and attack Grace. Grace is Simon’s food source.”

I let out a shaky breath at his words as I sit down, curling my knees up to my chest and hitting my forehead on it repeatedly. “Am I human?” I whisper.

Adrian lets out a few chitters and clicks. 

“Adrian not know.”

I feel tears falling down my cheeks as I let out a sob.

—

After a week, Grace still hasn’t woken up. Rocky comes to visit, along with Adrian, Chia, and other Eridians to talk to me about Grace, about Sandy, and other things. I’m kept in my cell until Grace wakes up. But until now, he still hasn’t.

Therefore, Adrian moved the research much earlier, and I was tied down to a bed and sent to a room full of machines. My arms and feet are bound to the bed, and my chest and legs are all tied down, with some kind of muzzle over my mouth. 

It feels dehumanizing, but I understand the fear. They didn’t see what I did, but they heard the sound of blood rushing and my teeth piercing Grace’s skin (Rocky explained as much of what he believed he heard when he was coming toward us).

“Adrian, sorry,” Adrian said as I just nodded at him, staring up at the ceiling, my eyes burning hot. “It’s fine,” I mutter.

“Grace?” I ask again. “Still resting,” Adrian says. “Rocky watches Grace while he sleeps,” he adds.

“What about your kids?” I ask. “Adrian’s family watches over the offspring,” Adrian replies as I nod stiffly. “Okay... Okay... do what you need. I give you my full consent to find out whatever the hell is happening to me. And... and tell me as soon as Grace wakes up, okay? Right away? Please?” I whisper the last word as Adrian chirps at me, placing a claw over my arm as I let out a shaky breath.

“Don’t—” I said.

Adrian pulls back, and I look away. “I might hurt you too, like what happened to Grace,” I mutter bitterly as I look far away, staring into the distance, letting Adrian do what he needs.

Taking blood, skin, hair, sending me running through machines. It was a long, tremendous process that took many days, and at night, I stayed sleepless, unable to close my eyes because I saw Grace’s bloodied face every time I tried.

I can see the blood from his arm dripping onto his face, his expression full of pain and terror. His face—I remember how scared he looked, and his voice… he was asking me to stop.

“Simon, okay, question?” Rocky asks, startling me back to reality as I see him enter the room. I’m tied down to the bed, and behind him was Joe, quite a large Eridian. Beside Rocky was Chia, holding a black box as they walked up to my bed. 

The room was fairly small, and fitting one big Eridian and two small ones made it cramped. I see Chia move up the bed, careful as ever, and Rocky beside me. Joe stays by the door, probably to stop me in case I try to escape.

Not that I would do that.

“A bit tight on the legs, but otherwise fine… Grace?” I ask. “Grace still sleeps. Wakes, but just opens eyes and sleeps again. Grace healing fine. Good good good good. Simon good too. Rocky happy,” Rocky chitters beside me as I nod.

“That’s great.” I sigh, looking up. I eye the box that Chia is holding. “What’s that?” I ask as Rocky lets out a small chirp.

“Test,” Rocky says. “Rocky and other scientists have a hypothesis to test. Simon says you still feel hunger even after a large meal.”

I nod at that as I lick my lips nervously. 

I have a feeling where they’re slowly going with this. 

There’s blood inside, isn’t there? After all, for the days that have passed. While I can’t seem to forget the fear in Grace’s face, I also can’t forget the warm blood in my mouth that tasted so, so good. 

Like it was made for the gods. It was good, yet at the same time, so so terrible. I wish Grace could wake up now so I can finally stop waiting in bated breath for what they will do to me. 

I hope for much worse than this. 

After all, I deserve hell for what I just did. 

I just wish I could enjoy more of my time here. Maybe this is my true penance, showing me what life I could have if I were a good man.

“Is it blood?” I ask, my voice suddenly weak as Rocky lets out a small warble. “Yes. It is blood,” Rocky says. 

I swallow at that, averting my eyes away from Rocky as I stare at the white ceiling I’m slowly getting used to the more Grace sleeps. “Okay… Okay,” I whisper. “Simon, okay with this test question?” Rocky asks.

“Do everything you need,” I say again, a bit hoarsely. I hear Chia let out a sad warble. “Rocky finds a solution to help you, Simon. Hope,” Chia says softly as I shut my eyes, hearing the box being opened and the smell of something sweet, savory, and disgustingly amazing waft through my nose.

It’s blood—it’s no longer copper-scented as I feel my stomach tremble in excitement, my mouth pooling with both saliva and blood as my canines grow in response and my nails dig into the palm of my hand. I open my eyes again, looking down at Chia as I let out a shaky breath.

“What does Simon feel, question?” Rocky asks as he points his camera at me. The white gem spins as he looks down at the screen by his side while I swallow the saliva pooling inside my mouth. 

“Hungry… So hungry, I can’t think,” I say hoarsely as I try to tug on my binds. There is a terrible itch under my skin that wants to leave, and I don’t know what it is.

I’m hungry. 

I’m so hungry. 

I need to get out. 

I want it. 

“What is it? Whose blood is it, Rocky?” I gasp out, gritting and gnashing my teeth before choosing to bite my tongue, feeling the sharp canines pierce it like it’s nothing but air. I know well they can hear it because I see Rocky twitch in response as I bite on my tongue angrily.

“Grace's blood,” Rocky replies. That made my stomach churn but at the same time rumble with hunger. It was as if my body was conditioned to crave whatever belonged to Grace. 

“Scientists use the same technique with food, but this time, blood. Now the hypothesis is correct. Simon feeds on blood starting today. No more human food,” Rocky explains.

I wanted to slam my head against the wall until I collapsed and died upon hearing those words. Human food. No more human food. I’m not human then, am I?

“Okay.” I didn’t vocalize my internal question as I watched Chia close the box again. The smell disappeared, but I could still sense its lingering scent in the room, making me practically drool in hunger. “Blood will come later; Chia will feed Simon,” Chia says, her warbles soft, almost like she wants to sing me a lullaby.

“Okay, question?” Rocky asks.

I nodded, even though my eyes burned and tears fell from the corners. I couldn’t wipe them away, so I just let them fall. “Perfect,” I said shakily.

Rocky watched me, and he didn’t point out how I was now acting like Grace. He didn’t call me leaky or say anything remotely funny. Chia left the room with Joe, leaving Rocky and me as the door closed.

“Grace hurt; Rocky fix. Not Simon’s fault. Now Simon has a problem, Rocky fix as well, with Adrian and many scientists. Rocky believes.” Rocky moved to place a claw on my hand, parting it from its clenched position as I breathed out shakily.

“I hurt Grace, Rocky. I don’t get why you aren’t killing me yet,” I whispered.

“Simon didn’t mean it,” Rocky replied as I let out a shaky laugh. “What if I did? What if I did mean it? What if I was so hungry that I’d rip his throat out, huh?” I asked again, this time a bit harsher.

Rocky’s claw was still on my palm, and I could feel him flinch.

“Simon didn’t mean it,” Rocky said. “What if I did? What if I do?” My voice rose slightly as I turned to him. For once, I was glad he couldn’t see me as humans do. I probably looked monstrous right now. 

My mouth hurt because my teeth were shifting into a much longer and sharper version of themselves, and my left eye burned as if I were back in the ammonia-filled air behind the xenonite glass. My nails were freakishly long and had turned dark, as if my nails had died. 

I was—am a monster—a fucking monster.

“Simon. Not. Mean. It.” Rocky punctuated. I could feel his body tremble; I didn’t know if it was out of anger or fear. But I shut up because of his words nonetheless, and I felt myself calming down.

Rocky didn’t leave just yet, and I let out a sob. “Tell me if Grace wakes up?” I asked again, my voice a pitch higher because of the tears falling down my face. “Yes, Rocky will tell Simon right away,” Rocky said.

I let out a shaky breath at that, my chest trembling as I felt the binds around it tighten with every move.

“I’m scared,” I whispered.

I felt Rocky run his claw over my arm gently, barely grazing my skin. “Rocky is here with Simon. Simon doesn’t need to be scared,” he said.

And that sent the water flowing again as I sobbed, this time a bit louder than before. My body shook, and I tried to breathe in air, but it was hard to cry when my head was flat against a small pillow and I couldn’t sit up with so many binds around me. Everyone in this place was scared that I’d hurt them next.

“Simon hasn’t slept for 518,400 seconds now. Rocky is worried. So now Rocky will watch Simon sleep,” Rocky said as I looked at him.

It’s been a while since someone did that.

“You will? You’re sure? What about Grace?” I asked. “Grace has Adrian,” Rocky said, and I let out a shaky breath. I wiggled my hand a bit, and Rocky seemed to take that as an invitation to place his claw back on my palm. 

I held it loosely, as loosely as I could because the binds prevented me from twisting my wrist. It pained my wrist slightly to keep the angle, but I wanted someone to touch me right now.

I missed a lot of things from my house right now: Grabby, my bed, my books, the TV. I miss Grace too, but it’s impossible to have him here…

“Can I ask you for one thing?” I said again. “Tell Rocky.” Rocky moved closer.

—

Rocky told me Grace woke up a week ago, weak and bleary, but alive and healthy. It’s been another week since I was moved to a different room, this time larger than the last. I have Grabby with me, close to my bed, ready to intervene just in case I go crazy and Grabby needs to stop me.

My TV is over on the far left, playing a movie I’m no longer interested in. 

A few books are on the table beside the bed, and there’s a better binding system for when I have to be tied up in bed for the night.

For once, I feel thankful that they made the room slightly larger than before because I have space to walk around and think. I have space to sit and lie down on the floor, and I have space to pray to God that nothing bad will happen the moment Grace regains all his strength and comes to me.

I’m filled with so much fear since Grace woke up. I was happy, yes, because he’s okay, but then fear came crashing in like rushing waves. For many days, I spent my time serving God again, praying to Him, kneeling by the bed, and asking that if Grace were to kill me, he’d do it painlessly.

The first few nights after I got the news scared me so much that I pulled my fangs out in response, hoping they wouldn’t grow back. I made a mess of my sink with that, but a few hours later, they grew back anyway. 

I’ve never felt such rage after that, really. It feels like I can’t get out of this. This strangely reminds me of the sub. The room feels like an iron lung, and I can’t escape because if I do, I’ll be killed outside.

It’s terrifying. I sit by the door, prepared in case it opens and it’s Grace. At least I’ll be there to face him right away.

I haven’t come out for tests in days since Grace is awake now. That means he controls what will happen and the research, along with whatever they’ve found at the moment. Rocky and Adrian don’t tell me anything, but I don’t ask them either because I’m just scared of knowing things. 

I’d rather not ask so I don’t have to know.

I watch the movie from the door, sitting there, knees curled up loosely on my chest, waiting for the impending doom of death that will come to cleave my head from my body. It makes me sick with worry, and most of all, it makes me sick with disgust at myself. I don’t know if it’ll come, and I don’t know if I want it or not.

I hear a knock—just small taps. It’s Chia. I stand up, rush to my bed, and sit down as the door whooshes open. Chia enters, and behind her is another Eridian who seems to be larger than Poe. For a while now, Poe has been Chia’s guard when she comes to feed me, but I guess he’s been switched elsewhere this time.

“Simon, good sleep question?” Chia asks as the door closes. The Eridian behind her enters and stands in front of the door. “Yeah, good,” I lied. “What is your name?” I ask the Eridian, who chirps at me. It looks like they have no translator at all, so I turn to Chia. “Her name is Eleanor,” she says.

“I like it,” I reply, as Eleanor lets out a pleased warble at my small smile. Chia pulls out a bag full of blood. Like a dog conditioned to drool at the sight of it, my mouth waters, and blood rushes out from my canines, elongating as Chia hands me the bag.

Adrian believes that I should learn to use my teeth since they serve a purpose. They are trying to replicate the bag as some prey I have to bite and suck the blood from to keep me practiced in how to properly use it. I don’t know why it’s required, but I don’t want to ask.

Chia steps back as I rest the bag over my lips. I’ve learned to feed properly without breaking the whole bag—Adrian forced me to. It was like teaching me to push a needle inside a balloon. I have to be gentle but quick.

The blood rushes into my mouth—it’s Grace’s blood. Granted, it is a copy of his blood, but it’s still good. The hunger that’s been eating away at me starts to fade as I let out an inhuman growl and sounds while I continue to drink from it.

I drank until it was empty, and eventually, I am once again tied to the bed as Chia and Eleanor leave, the lights dimming more than usual as I lie there, my stomach full yet feeling the need to purge it all out. I feel disgusted.

I stare at the ceiling, scratching a single finger against the mattress beneath me to lull myself to sleep. I don’t even know if I want to wake up tomorrow. I hope Grace visits tomorrow—only if he’s feeling better and capable of standing on his own.

—

I sleep. I eat. I sit. I bathe. I pace back and forth. And repeat. I sleep. I eat. I sit. I bathe. I pace back and forth. I repeat. I sleep. I eat. I sit. I bathe. I pace back and forth. Again and again and again.

In my anger, I’ve broken my clock and calendar and ripped them to shreds (I try not to focus on the fact that I felt complete doing that). I’m getting sick of it. When is Grace going to come? Is he scared of me? Is that it? Is that why he isn’t coming?

Is this it? Is this really it? Is this how it’s going to be forever? 

I have no window in my room; I forgot to ask for one, but at the same time, I don’t think the part of the lab I’m in has a good view of the ocean. I miss the water and the waves, as well as the rocks and the sand. I want to go out, and I think I’m starting to go crazy. 

I think I am going crazy. I can’t do it. I’m filled with guilt for what I did. 

I walk back and forth like a caged animal, like those videos of zoos where the lions walk back and forth in their little enclosure, being watched by humans all around. I feel the same way. 

Chia comes to feed me. I eat, then I sleep, I wake up, bathe, and wait for Chia to feed me again for breakfast, and again for lunch, then once more for dinner. 

My hunger is never-ending; the blood helps, but I crave it more. I crave flesh to cave between my lips. From time to time, even in the waking hours, I see Grace and his scared face, his bleeding arm held against his chest as he cries in pain, telling me to stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop it, Simon.

Why are you such a monster? 

Why can’t you just stop being one? 

What did I do to deserve to be a monster? 

If I was a monster from the start, why didn’t I just die inside the submarine?

It’s because of the COI, it’s because of Ava, it’s because of David. It’s all their fault why I’m like this, why I’ve turned into some monster. 

They sent me down into the ocean with the other monsters, and instead of being killed by them, I joined them. 

Fuck, fucking fuck. 

Yet, even if I blame Ava and David, I can’t help but wish good things for them and hope that humanity is finally saved in my world, just so I can come to terms with the fact that I have now lost twice. 

First, for humanity, and second, this second chance I was given. 

I am a failure. 

Father is right; I am not suited to be a soldier (I hated being one after all; my heart was never in it). I am not suited to be human either, and most of all, I am not suited to be loved or to love. 

I’m cursed. 

Just cursed. 

“Simon, leaking question? What seems to be the problem question?” Chia asks as I sob. I can taste my tears along with the blood I am drinking as I sit there on the floor, continuing to suck, and suck, and suck. 

Like those babies sucking on their mother’s breast. 

I don’t reply to Chia, mostly because I don’t want to dislodge my teeth from the bag and spill blood everywhere. 

“Simon miss outside question? Simon miss Grace question?” Chia asks as I finish my lunch. 

I swallow the remaining blood and lean back, letting my head fall against the wall as Chia takes the empty bag from me. “Yes to all,” I whisper hoarsely as Chia lets out a sad warble. 

“Soon Simon goes out. As for Grace, Grace is busy, always in the lab. No time to even teach Eridian children. Grace is focused,” Chia says. 

“Focused on what?” I ask. 

“Focused on saving Simon,” Chia replies. 

I let out a shaky breath. So, in the end, Grace is doing it again, huh? Saving me, acting the hero… God… 

“Simon believe Grace is angry at him question?” Chia asks, letting out a soft chirp as she taps her claws on the floor. 

“Maybe.” I turn to her as Chia lets out a soft hum, her body vibrating. 

“Did he say something at least?” I ask. Chia warbles softly. “Not yet; Grace doesn’t want other Eridians with him,” she says. 

Not even Rocky? 

“Rocky?” I ask. Chia lets out a small sound that almost sounds like a sigh to me as she slumps down a little before standing up straight. “Not Rocky either. Grace wants to be alone,” Chia says. 

Why? Did he find something? Isn’t it better for him to have more help than to do it alone? Just what is he doing? 

“Tell him to stop and rest. Just… tell him to rest, okay?” I say, swallowing a sigh as Chia warbles softly at me. 

“Chia agrees. Simon, it's time to be tied for sleep,” she says. Eleanor comes inside the room again, and I’m cleaned of any drops of blood before she ties me back to the bed as I lay there, staring at the ceiling as I listen to them leave, the door locking loudly with a whoosh.

I wonder if Grace is doing this as some kind of punishment for me. I thought I started to understand him; now I feel like we’re worlds apart once more. Just what is he doing and planning to do? 

I watch Grabby move around the room, whirring softly as it cleans the floors, which have a few drops of blood from my dinner. I let out another shaky sigh. “This is it, isn’t it, Grabby?” I whisper, closing my eyes as I hear Grabby pause.

I know Grace must have done something to make Grabby much more responsive to me, just like Armando. I can talk to Grabby like Grace can talk to Armando. 

Grabby moves close to me, producing a new clean towel to wipe my face. Then I realize tears are falling down my cheeks. 

“I’m a monster. I’m a monster. She was right. She was right.” I openly sob as I slam my head against the pillow in anger. I dig my nails into my palms as I grit my teeth. 

This life is perfect, and I went and ruined it. Grabby doesn’t do anything aside from wiping my face, which only angers me more as I growl at it. 

“Stop it,” I hissed at the machine. Grabby moves back, hesitating for a moment before it retreats. I try not to feel bad about hurting a machine as I lie back down, staring at the white ceiling. My chest aches, not in sadness, but in anger. 

This is it. This is it. If only—if only… 

I breathe shakily. I don’t want to blame Sandy or her mother, or anyone else. If anything, it’s all my fault that I’m like this. 

It’s the blood. It’s the blood. I knew it was too good to be true anyway. I drank the blood and felt it enter my nose, my eyes, every part of my body. 

Whatever Grace and the others were trying to cure, it isn’t a sickness. 

It’s a mutation because of the blood from the Blood Ocean. 

I’m not fixed, as Rocky words it. I was never fixed at all; maybe I was temporarily. I was able to feel like a normal human for a moment, but… I’m not. I’m not human.

—

“Stand up, brother.” I hear a voice above me as I stay lying there. My chest aches with every breath I take, and my legs feel like I’ve run around the whole area for an entire day. Sweat sticks to my skin as I try to regulate my breathing, my shoulders shaking as I force air into my lungs.

“Stand up,” I hear again as I open my eyes to look up. Myrone looks at me, his eyes dark. I swallow, wiping the back of my hand across my face as I push myself up, even though my body screams at me to stay down.

“You’re not improving; you’re much slower than our brothers. Sooner or later, you’ll be left behind,” Myrone says, his arms crossed over his chest as I breathe out.

I don’t care. Is what I want to say. But if I say that, Myrone’s hand will find my face, and sooner or later I’ll find myself back on the hard, cold floor with his eyes pointed down at me like I’m some bug or nothing at all.

“I’m trying,” is what I say instead, the only phrase I’ve kept using ever since my mother died. She left me alone in this godforsaken place filled with believers of something that may not exist after all.

“So? Try better, Simon,” Myrone growls at me, and I nod, my head lowered, shutting my eyes as I just nod. “I will. I will. I will,” I whisper shakily, my hands holding onto each other painfully, my bones creaking as I clasp my hands tightly.

Myrone lets out a breath; it sounds like disappointment. I know it is disappointment, so I just don’t look up. I hear him walk away, his shoes tapping as I stand there.

Alone.

Chapter Text

I swipe the back of my hand over my lips, seeing blood—Grace’s blood on it—as I lick it hungrily. Beside me, I hear Chia chitter, waiting for me to finish my breakfast. My stomach rumbles, and the blood bag is already close to being finished. 

It’s not enough; I’m still hungry, and I want more. 

The more they feed me, the more I want. It feels like a bad idea to do this. It makes me crave more, and knowing them, if I ask, they’d allow me. They’re keeping a monster in a lab full of innocent Eridians, and one day I’ll become one, because they keep feeding me until I’m full and left wanting more. 

I don't want it. I don’t want that life where I’m a danger to these creatures. They’ve done nothing but help me, after all—much better than the humans I’ve met back in my world.

“Chia?” I finish the blood bag, handing it to Chia, who passes it to Grabby, who whirrs and takes it from her claws. 

“Yes, question?” Chia moves closer. “I’m not going to get better, am I? Did Grace find anything? Am I going to stay like this? If so, isn’t it better to just… kill me?” I ask as I watch Chia physically freeze, her body locking up, and I hear sounds like rocks being grated together again and again. I wince at that. 

“Chia not like Simon say that. Simon can stay quiet, or Chia get angry,” she stomps her claws on the floor, and I swallow down a laugh at her as I watch her angrily stomp around, turning from side to side while I just give her a smile.

“Sorry—sorry. That was my mistake. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to say that. It was just… an—an idea, okay? I might be dangerous, and it’s—it’s possible Grace can’t find a cure…” I say. 

I don’t continue; I think Chia knows what my point is now, and I can hear her let out a sad warble that turns into a small whistle piercing my ears a little. I see her body shudder for a few moments, and she moves close to me. 

“Grace find answer. Grace is savior of Erid.” Chia says. “He can’t save everyone, Chia,” I whisper to her as Chia shudders again. 

She leaves in silence after that. I sit on the floor, hugging my legs, waiting for lunch. I don’t have my clock or calendar anymore to track time and date, so I just… ball it up and hope to God days haven’t passed by so much.

I miss my house. 

And, most of all, I miss Grace and his talks with Rocky, where I would be just forgotten at the side as I listened to them and turned their conversations into my full-on entertainment. I miss them like I would miss my mom. 

They’re not dead. But they might as well be because they’re keeping me here like a leashed dog, refusing to be put down because they think they can still save me. 

But I can feel it; this isn’t savable at all. 

It was stupid of me to actually believe the medicine that Grace made would work, that it’s that simple. 

It’s really not; life is not simple. I think I’ve slowly come to accept that I can’t be happy like Grace is, and for some reason, I can’t even be jealous of him, because now I’m just happy for him. Good riddance.

I fall asleep on the floor, waking up to Eleanor chirping in front of me, moving her claws up and down as if she’s telling me to stand. So I do—shakily standing. “What’s going on?” I ask as I’m told to lay down on the bed. 

“Another test,” Eleanor says. She finally got a translator now, and I nodded. “Without Chia or Rocky?” I ask. “Or Adrian?” I add after. Eleanor warbles at that, and I sigh as I let her tie me down. 

The bed is rolled out easily out of the room, and I watch the hallways, it was empty, and for some reason it feels wrong to see the hallways so empty, Eridians should be walking around here and there (Is it because I’m here? They’re scared of me? Is that it?). I feel my skin prickle, and sweat pours down my forehead. “Where’s Chia?” I ask again as Eleanor pushes me into a room I don’t think I’ve been in before. 

“Other scientists care for Simon today. No panic,” Eleanor says as I try to nod even with the limited space because of the binds. I see three scientists waiting inside as I’m wheeled in, and the door shuts. 

“Hello,” one says as she climbs over a handrail, waving a claw at me. Her skin is a shade of pink and blue; it’s beautiful because it’s like she’s glowing. “Hi… What are we going to do today? This is pretty new,” I say meekly. “Am Katie,” Katie says, and I nod. “Simon,” I reply. 

“Katie knows,” she chirps, sounding like a giggle as I let out a small, amused snort. 

“Am Fred,” Fred greets me. He’s climbed another handrail at the side, looking down at me. He’s larger than Katie. His skin is a normal color of faded and muted orange, and he has a few markings on his body that I don’t think I’ve seen aside from Rocky’s, but I don’t mind.

“I’m Leon. I watch,” Leon said. He stood beside Eleanor, his voice lower than the others—a soft chirp. His color is brown, almost like Rocky, but he’s smaller. A few purple gems are scattered along his back, and he has several legs. So, he isn’t a scientist? I guess he’s a guard, like Eleanor.

But overall, the one who really catches my eye is Katie.

“Nice to meet you all… So what’s on the agenda today? More blood tests?” I ask uncertainly. Usually, Rocky or Adrian would come to tell me if I had a test, or sometimes even Chia would warn me. It’s never impromptu—Rocky always comes soon after the warning. I know the tests have stopped because Grace is now awake, which means they’ve collected enough data for her to use. So, I’m confused as to why I have to be tested again.

Suddenly, I see Katie move, and something touches my elbow, burning me. “Ow!” I yelp, flinching so hard the bed creaks. Fred types something at the side, dragging a screen closer to him, clicking at things I can’t see.

“What was that?” I ask, looking down at my elbow to see a burn where Katie touched me. I notice her claw—it’s steaming, covered with soot, just like what happened to Sandy. Katie touched me. I watch her shudder in pain before she covers her claw with her suit. It looks like one of her arms has a different part of the suit, so only that arm is affected.

My burn slowly heals, new skin covering over until it's unblemished again.

“You touched me,” I say.

“Patient wound healed,” Katie says to Fred, who starts typing loudly again.

“Is that okay? You’re hurt,” I say to Katie, who touches me again. I feel another burn. I clench my fist and flinch, gritting my teeth as my skin sizzles and blisters. I can feel her claw digging into my flesh as I squirm, trying to pull away.

“Stop! Stop!” I cry. Katie pulls back, covering her claws again. My arm slowly heals as I grunt in pain, throwing my head back, chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. “Is that really necessary?” I gasp.

“Patient heal 60 seconds from Eridian touch,” Katie announces as Fred types again.

I blink up at the light above me, realizing it isn’t dimmed the way I usually prefer it. They always dim the lights for me—especially if I have to stay in a test all day, sometimes even turning them off since the Eridians don’t need them. They usually leave just a small yellow light so I’m not in total darkness (I’ve told Adrian before how the dark makes me uncomfortable).

“Why aren’t the lights dimmed?” I ask. Katie steps down from where she’s standing, then comes back up, whistling at Leon, who moves toward me. The restraints adjust, and my left arm is pulled off the bed, stretched open by Leon. 

I look at Katie in confusion. She’s holding something like a glowing stick.

Or at least  glowing stick to my eyes. It emitted heat from its glow—

“What is that—” I don’t have time to finish my question. Katie drives the stick down, sawing above my elbow. I scream, feeling the burning pain as she pushes down, moving the stick quickly. Blood drips down, splattering onto the floor, onto Katie and Leon. I scream louder, thrashing, my free hand clawing at the restraints. My feet kick but I’m tied down tight.

“Stop! Stop! Fuck! Stop that! Shit—” I yell as she cuts through the bone. I watch it happen, then look away, bile rising in my throat. I convulse with pain and nausea, glancing at Fred, who sits there typing, unfazed by my cries and trembling.

Leon lets out a chirp as I cry out, why my dismembered arm drop into his claws.

Oh god. They—

They took my arm!

Cut it off the bone like nothing.

I’m going to be sick.

I turn my head, already knowing what’s happening—my entire arm is gone, blood pouring out as my vision flickers and darkens while I stare at the wound.

“Patient bone heals after being dismembered,” I hear Katie say through the ringing in my ears as I watch a bone slowly push out from my cut stump, blood still spilling as I look away, gagging and dry-heaving as I shake.

Leon holds out my severed arm to Katie, who easily takes it from him and places it into a box, blood pouring from it. The blood turns into vines, crawling up my dismembered arm. It reminds me of the vines inside the sub...

“Dismembered arm taken for more research,” Katie says as I breathe out, still shaking. My lungs burn and I can’t catch my breath.

Fred steps forward, holding something—a long needle. He plunges it into my neck, deep and uncaring. I let out a choked whimper as I feel something cold rush into me. It's icy—so cold—and suddenly everything slows down.

My mind feels fuzzy, slow, as if I’ve been thrown into syrupy liquid. I look at my arm and see the bone protruding, skin and flesh and nerves slowly forming back.

I look at Katie as my eyes start to close.

The black spots consume me.

—

“Warning: Patient is experiencing high cortisol.”

I scream, opening my eyes as I stare back up at the familiar white ceiling of my cell. As I look around the room, I see Grabby at my side, whirring. I’m lying on the floor, untied… I look at my arm to see it whole, and I let out a sigh, sitting up as I wipe a hand down my face. 

Was that a dream? What the fuck? 

“Did Eleanor take me out of the room for a test?” I ask Grabby, who whirrs and shakes its head, moving side to side. I let out a breath; that was a realistic dream. 

It’s been a while since I had one. 

The last time had been with Grace and Rocky, now here. “Okay,” I say to myself as I stand to my feet, flinching when someone knocks on the door. It’s not the familiar knocking of Chia — it’s much stronger and firmer. 

I sit down on the bed (more like falling onto it) as the door opens, and Grace enters. “Grace.” I swallow, thanking God that I sat down, or I might have genuinely fallen on the floor like an idiot. 

Grace stands by the door, looking nervous, before he smiles at me and then the door behind him closes with a faint whoosh. “Hey, Si.” He says as he walks up to the bed, standing there awkwardly. I look at his arm — it’s still bandaged thickly — then back at his face. 

He looks tired; his hair is greasy, flattened down on his head. His shirt is rumpled, and his eyes are dark and sunken. His glasses are nowhere to be seen.

My heart clenches. “Sit down?” I adjust on the bed, giving him space as he sits down, breathing out. “You okay?” he asks. “I should be the one asking you that,” I retort softly as Grace breaks into a small grin. I copy him. 

Are we okay? We’re okay, right? 

“I’m fine,” Grace grins, showing off his bandaged arm to me as I nod shakily. “Guess I have two scars now, left and right — Rocky and yours, huh?” Grace jokes, and I wince at that. 

“Too early?” he asks, and I nod meekly while he forces a tight-lipped smile. “Sorry,” he says quietly, and I just shrug. 

We both fall quiet, neither of us talking. 

“Are you sleeping well?” I ask again as I look at his face. His eyes look tired, and his gaze is lowered. “I — yeah — I mean, decent. You?” I know Grace lied, but I don’t point it out to him. 

“Fine. It’s nice to be tied down on the bed at night,” I say, and Grace snorts at that. “Bet it’s real comfy, huh?” he replies, and I just shrug. It gets to a point, I suppose. 

“Is Sandy doing fine now?” I ask. Grace nods at that. “Good, she’s doing well… Lucy too, I think whatever happened made Lucy strong enough to push through her grief of losing her mate,” he says. 

I perk up at that. “That can happen?” I ask. 

“Not always,” Grace says. “Never actually…” he adds after a beat. 

“Did Sandy tell you what happened? I want to say sorry for letting her inside,” I say, and Grace just shakes his head. “It was our fault too for taking her mother away from her. She’s just a kid… and you wanted to help… Just… mistakes happen,” he says. 

“Mistakes that almost killed a child,” I reply in a grave voice. I see Grace clenching his fist at that, and I try not to wince. But it’s not like I was lying, was I? If only I had been a bit heartless and hadn’t let Sandy in there with her mom, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt. 

And we fall silent again. “Uh…” Grace lets out a whistling breath, shaking a leg for a moment as he turns to me. “I’m working on fixing the problem right now,” he says as I look at him. 

“Okay… Did you find anything?” I don’t tell him I have a feeling he might never be able to fix this. I don’t want to ruin his hopes. But… this feels like something I can't step away from and turn my back on.

It’s permanent. 

It’s not an illness like we all thought it would be. 

I’m part of it now. 

The blood ocean? The aliens that are living in the depths? I’m with them now, except I was just brought here, and maybe the effects were slow, or maybe I’m just one unlucky bastard. 

“I… I found something.” Grace pinches his pant leg, closing his eyes for a moment, squeezing it.

For some reason, I can feel Grace’s fear. He doesn’t talk right away. “Let’s not talk about it now,” I say. Grace raises his head to look at me. “Are you sure you’re allowed to be here? What if I…” I say uncertainly, trying to change the topic.

Grace waves me off. “The smell of blood only activates you; as long as I don’t bleed out, it’s fine. It’s mostly why I haven’t come here while I was healing. My wound has closed at this point, so I came here.” He clears his throat.

I feel like there is something more beyond that, but I don’t point it out. “Okay… okay. I’m happy you’re okay… I’m sorry,” I whisper. In my horror, I can’t stop the pleading tone of my voice as Grace’s head snaps toward me, eyes widening. “It’s not your fault,” he says as he reaches toward me.

I move back a little, and I see him stop, his hand dropping into his lap, gaze averted. 

“It is… I should have noticed something was wrong. I mean—I think I did, but I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I mean, it was obvious. The hunger, the light bothering me, my teeth falling out. It’s not normal,” I say, burying my face in my palms with a shaky breath. “It’s not normal,” I say again.

“You’re right; it wasn’t normal,” Grace says beside me. I raise my head to meet his eyes. He looks serious, staring far away, not at me, his hands clasped together. “It’s not a normal human occurrence, but normal enough that any scans would not pick up a change…” Grace says slowly as I sit up, listening to him. “Remember the medicine? It didn’t work…” he adds.

Oh… yeah, I gather that much. 

I give an 'it's obvious' shrug to Grace, but he doesn’t take the bait to smile; he looks more serious, almost pale and gaunt. He looks older than he’s supposed to, and his shoulders hunch. 

“Whatever that was inside you? It was dormant; it was asleep, well not really asleep. But it was just there, waiting for your body to acclimatize. That’s why you were sleeping too—you’re trying to get in touch with it. It’s like two things trying to align with each other.”

“So, your body is trying to follow it. But when I made the medicine with astrophage, thinking it would kill it, it basically activated whatever that’s infecting you. It woke up and continued its job, but this time, much faster than expected, it basically shocked your body. The medicine didn’t help because it woke up because of it.“

“Those tests I ran were rushed, and I didn’t take into account the days I needed to watch over it because I was desperate to find a solution to stop you from falling back into a coma.” Grace babbles, his voice shaking as he presses his forehead into his clasped hands, breathing heavily.

I fall silent. “Adrian and the other scientists warned me about rushing the medicine, but we were all rushing at some point and we didn’t care about that fact because we needed to keep you alive. Astrophage was just one of the things that reacted specifically to the blood from the submarine and soon to your blood too. I didn’t think it would be some kind of activation for it. Now it has mutated to live in our world because I fed astrophage to your system. The blood mutated and turned you into—”

“A monster,” I finish for him, and Grace raises his head to meet my eyes. “Not a monster,” he says as he reaches for me. I don’t have time to move away as he grabs both of my hands tightly, his nails almost digging into mine.

“Whatever that was in your blood stopped infecting you when you probably went through the wormhole; it was frozen, turned dormant. But the astrophage basically woke it up with its heat. It’s… it’s my fault, Simon. I was too arrogant because every time I do something, it works. It’s my fault.” Grace’s voice shakes as I stare at him.

In horror? Anger? Sadness? I don’t know. All I know is that I feel everything and nothing all at once, knowing that this might have been avoidable if Grace had stopped acting like a hero to every single living thing in this dome.

“Simon?” Grace whispers as he raises his head to meet my eyes, and I can’t look at him. Because if I do, I’ll forgive him. I’ll forgive him for turning me into a monster, and I’ll forgive him for the fact that I have to stay in this cell forever until I die or until he dies. Then the Eridians will probably throw me into space to kill me because not even astrophage can kill what’s inside of me.

“Leave,” I say. Grace’s eyes widen as I step out of the bed, clasping my hair, burying my hands in it as I tug on it again and again and pace back and forth. 

I need to think.

“What?” Grace asks, and I growled. “I said leave,” I said again. I tried to level my tone, but I’m angry, sad, and depressed. Because for a while, I believed whatever is happening to me has always been a has-been. It was bound to happen.

It was bound to happen, but my travel to this universe stopped it. Somehow, Grace thought he was doing the right thing and made me a medicine. 

A medicine that just woke it up and continued the mutation.

Fuck.

It’s not fair!

It’s really not fair. I don’t deserve all of this bullshit!

“What am I going to turn into now, Grace? Am I going to turn into the aliens I saw back in my world?” I asked, desperate as I turned to Grace, who was still sitting on my bed, tears welling in his eyes as he wiped them again and again. 

And oh…

Oh…

I don’t like seeing him cry, not especially because of me.

“We don’t know yet. So far, your mutation stops here, but we found that your blood and the blood from the submarine are now the same. We believe the mutation stops here, but it’s irreversible now. The mutation continued and it stayed there. You’ll have a hunger for flesh, blood, and anything hot, warm… and—and alive. We— we tried feeding it Eridian blood, and your blood still consumed it, as long as it comes from a living life form. You will want it.” Grace swallowed and shakily said.

“We believe any lifeform is a source of food for you. We tried a single, living branch from a tree, and… it also killed it — devoured it,” Grace said.

“And yet Chia comes in to feed me; isn’t it dangerous?” I asked, my voice shaking as I felt my throat constrict—because I can’t believe it has been dangerous for Chia to come here all this time. If I felt just a little bit curious, just a little bit hungrier.  I could have killed an innocent Eridian. 

“That’s why we came to condition you to depend on human blood only. As much as possible, we’ll try to get you used to it rather than Eridian blood for safety,” Grace said shakily.

No. No. No.

I don’t want to do this anymore.

Grace might as well just kill me.

I don’t want to live this kind of life.

“Just kill me, Grace. Just kill me. I don’t want to live through drinking blood forever, or — or the threat of me accidentally killing an Eridian. I can’t do this! I can’t do this!” I yelled. I turned to Grace, whose eyes were wide (it scared me because it looked like fear). 

“You can’t make me do this, Grace. I don’t — I don’t want to be a monster,” I said, my breaths shaking.

“You aren’t a monster,” Grace said, his hands braced on the bed, as if he was ready to bolt out of the door at any moment. His eyes flicked to the door, and it made me hurt even more as I let out a sob. “I am a monster. You’re scared, aren’t you? You’re already planning your escape just in case I attack you.” I let out a bitter laugh as Grace’s face turned pale.

“That’s not true,” Grace said.

“Don’t lie to me. Don’t fucking lie!” I yelled again.

I kicked down my table, and it hit the wall, the legs collapsing in a loud crash. I saw Grace flinch at my reaction, and the door opened.

I saw Eleanor rush in with Joe.

Grace stood up. “Guys—no, he didn’t do anything!”

“Eleanor! Joe! Stop!” Grace tried to intervene, but I saw Eleanor calmly push Grace away, as carefully as she could. Joe chirped at Grace as I stepped back, my breath shaking.

“I didn’t do anything! I just kicked the table!” I yelled, and suddenly the two large Eridians went after me, and I tried to run back, terrified.

Shit—

I had no time to react or even move away as they grabbed me.

I was tackled to the ground, letting out a yell in surprise, my arms wrenched behind me as Eleanor and Joe loomed above me, grabbing me like I was nothing and throwing me onto the bed. 

I yelled, kicking as I was strapped back onto my bed, screaming and yelling, trying to throw my body around. 

“Stop! Let me go!” I shrieked, trying to kick and pull my arms away from their claws, but they held onto me as tightly as they could, their suits digging into my skin. 

I struggled and squirmed, screaming. I tried not to think about how this was so similar to how I was treated back in the COI, where I was taken and carried like I was nothing and thrown into something similar to this.

It’s horrible. It’s terrifying.

I’m seeing two pictures at once and it makes me dizzy, scared, and nauseous. 

I’m seeing two men wearing black holding me down, telling me to shut up, to keep quiet so it won’t be as painful as it should be as they burn the mark of Eden on my neck as I screamed, pleaded, cried and clawed at their arms to stop.

But Eleanor and Joe were larger than normal Eridians; they easily held me down, too heavy for me to push them off as I was fully restrained, my head strapped down as well.

I squeezed my eyes shut, tears welling up as I opened them again, my vision blurring from the tears.

Breathe, Simon. Breathe. It’s nothing, it’s nothing.

Don’t panic. Don’t fucking panic. Don’t throw up. And don’t even fucking cry.

I tried not to panic, my chest heaving fast as I attempted to regulate my breathing, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t breathe. The straps helped me stay still, but I knew for sure that if they weren’t there, I would be shaking.

The strap over my forehead digs on my skin and I try to ignore the feeling of being unable to turn my head. 

They never used this because I personally asked for Rocky to not let them because I hated the fact that I couldn’t move my head.

Grace stood by the side, crying, his eyes averted, a palm over his lips as Joe loomed over me, placing something inside my mouth for me to bite before fastening the last hated thing I had in this room.

A muzzle.

Grace watched me, his eyes shining as he tried to wipe away his tears. He was shaking, and my chest felt like it was being ripped apart in two. I looked at him, and Grace looked back at me.

“I’m sorry,” Grace said as he was pulled out of the room, and I closed my eyes in anger at that.

Fuck me.

I opened my eyes again as I watched Grace leave, not sparing a single look back.

I want to scream.

—

There is something in my mouth, tugging at my teeth. I feel a blinding pain, but for some reason, I can’t open my eyes. I feel a rush of cold again, and suddenly my eyes are open, and Grabby is slowly taking the binds off my body. 

“Did someone enter?” I gasp as I sit up. My wrists and ankles hurt, and my lips and mouth ache like somebody cranked them open for a long time. Grabby shakes its head as I let out a confused, shaky breath. 

I thought… 

There is a knocking sound at the door, and it opens with a loud whoosh. Chia enters, and behind her are Rocky and Eleanor. 

For a moment, I glare at Eleanor before turning to Rocky, who runs toward me. “Simon, okay, question?” Rocky asks. 

I bite my lip, looking at Eleanor for a moment, feeling my hackles rise. It’s been two days since Grace visited me, and right now, I can’t even be angry at what I’m experiencing anymore. I think this is what they call acceptance of fate, really. 

I’ve always been quick to understand when things happen and quick to accept when bad things come my way. “Fine,” I say, watching as Rocky lets out a small, pleased thrill. 

I am fed again, and even if I want to deny the blood, I am hungry. Drinking it feels like coming back to a relationship I want to leave, but instead, I can’t because I can’t live without the other. 

Every time I hear what Grace said about conditioning me to prefer human blood, it makes me sick to my stomach. 

“Chia, Eleanor, leave. Rocky, talk to Simon.” Rocky says as Chia moves out of the room while Eleanor lets out a sharp note at Rocky. “Eleanor, listen to Rocky,” he repeats, and I see Eleanor shudder as if annoyed before she walks out of the room, the door shutting behind her. 

“Simon, okay, question? Simon sound sick, Simon feel sick. But Simon eat well. Rocky worried. Grace worried,” Rocky says. 

“I don’t really want to talk about Grace right now,” I sigh, ducking my head between my knees as Rocky lets out an annoyed note, climbing up onto my bed. “Rocky angry Simon act like this. Simon come back to us, now, now, now. Grace, Rocky find a way to fix Simon. Not give up.” Rocky stomps a claw on the bed. 

His words make me feel lost and a little angry. What is there to fix? I’m going to be like this forever. 

“What is there to fix, Rocky? Face it, I’m like this forever. I’m a monster. Don’t you get it? You all brought a monster here. I just can’t understand why you two won’t give up. You have kids, Rocky. Go back to your kids.” I say lowly. “And Grace? Tell him to stop trying; he might just make it worse. Tell him he fucked up in the best ways, and I’ll make sure to give him the award for the best fuck ups of the century.” I didn’t even have time to think about what I just said, and guilt hits me right away. 

Rocky’s body shudders, moving back a little, and I have the urge to reach over and say sorry to him again and again and again, and that I appreciate that they’re doing so much for me. 

But my chest is filled with so much anger, desperation, and sadness, and I feel stuck between those three. 

“Grace try his best to fix Simon. Simon should not say those words. Grace work hard, not sleep, not eat. Rocky worried, but Rocky try to help as best he can,” Rocky says as I slip my hand over my hair and tug it. 

“Then stop it! I didn’t ask for any of this, okay? I didn’t ask for you all to save me. I mean—you should have let me stay there inside the submarine. Let me float in there until I die. But noooo, you all decide to be heroes, to save me. And look where that got you: more problems, more work, and more days where you waste your time on me!” I say to Rocky. 

I want to bite my tongue, or anything really. I’m saying words I didn’t think I would say to Rocky, and I can see how it also hurts him, the words I’m saying and the tone I’m giving him. 

It fills me with guilt. 

“Tell Grace to stop, to just—” I let out a sigh, hitting my head lightly with my fist. “To just fucking stop, okay? He’s done enough; you all have done enough. Maybe it’s better to just throw me back in space and let me die there alone. Keeping me here is dangerous. I’m not a dog, Rocky. I’m not a pet. I’m not human either. I’m nothing but… but this demon!” I shout, raising my hand and waving it in the air as Rocky lets out a sad warble.

He doesn’t move back or flinch, but instead, he moves forward, and I want to push him away, to scare him. Shout, yell…

“Simon, hope,” Rocky said.

I let out a bitter snort at that. Hope? For what exactly?

“For what? For me to get better? To turn human again? I’ve never been one ever since I got here. And what if I accidentally kill one of your kind? What will you do then?” I ask. Rocky doesn’t reply to that. 

“Fix,” Rocky says.

I growl under my breath, “What if I kill Adrian and your children?” There it is; I hit the sore spot as Rocky stiffens, his body shaking—not from fear, but from anger. 

Rocky lets out a sharp note at me; the translator doesn’t pick it up as he rolls out of the bed, angry. I bite my tongue, fighting to keep the tears from my eyes as I watch Rocky leave the room, the door shutting behind him.

“Now you see it, huh?! I’m a monster, aren’t I?” I shout after him. Rocky just leaves; he doesn’t say goodbye to me or anything, and I know I fucking deserve hell for what I just said.

I wait for the taps of his claws to fade, and I start sobbing—full-blown sobbing. My shoulders shake as I bury my face in my hands and cry. I cried and cried, just like I did the day my mother died.

“Warning: patient is experiencing high cortisol—” I hear Grabby say as I stand from my bed and walk up to him.

My vision turns red, and in a flash, I grab Grabby, its arm coming off, the metal scraped and clawed as I growl, shriek, and yell at it. I pull it out of its sockets from the ceiling, kick it, and throw it against the wall. 

Grabby lets out a weak whirr as I destroy the same machine that took care of me, again and again, until it’s nothing but a pile of metal scraps. 

My hands bleed from all the clawing and pulling at the metal frames and wires. I sit down on the side of my bed, staring at the blood on my hands, the slashes where my skin meets the broken metal, watching as it slowly heals. 

I deserve this.

I sob into my hands again until I fall asleep. This time, Grabby won’t be there to clean up after me because I’ve broken it now. 

Everything I touch gets ruined. Maybe death really is the only way.

Later, Eleanor and a bunch of Eridians come back to clean up after my mess. Since I broke something in my room, I’m forced to be tied down again to regulate my temper. Eleanor doesn’t seem to be gentle with me anymore when Chia isn’t around, and I feel like it’s a sign of something I can’t explain.

“Was I taken for a test earlier?” I ask.

Eleanor doesn’t chirp or warble; she continues to tie me down, much tighter than usual, as I grit my teeth through it all.

“Did you drug me?” I ask again.

Eleanor pauses for a moment but continues.

“Did you bring me to two scientists? Are they allowed to test on me? Did Grace order it—?” Suddenly, Eleanor looms over me, letting out a low clicking noise that sounds threatening as she presses a claw against my neck—not touching it or holding it, not even choking me. 

But it makes me freeze nonetheless.

Eleanor isn’t wearing a translator today, but I can feel she’s threatening me to stay silent or she’ll hurt me. I shudder and close my eyes as Eleanor goes back to work. I watch her tie my thigh down and swallow.

“Did you?” I say slowly—I feel confused, terrified, and, most of all, I feel like I’m thrown off into zero gravity as Eleanor’s movements slow, but she tightens the bind on my ankles, and I let out a small pained noise; it feels like the bind is stopping circulation to my feet.

“That’s too tight,” I say, but Eleanor doesn’t pay attention to me as she reties every single bind again, this time much tighter than before. 

“Hey! That’s too tight,” I exclaim as she pulls the bind over my chest, and I cough, feeling like my lungs are being pressed by a large boulder. I try to squirm, but it gets tighter.

Eleanor eventually finishes tying me down, not sparing me a single glance, and leaves the room. I lie there, staring at the ceiling, small tears gathering at the corners of my eyes.

I just broke Grabby. 

Grabby, who did nothing but help me the day I woke up in this place. The same Grabby that was stationed in my house, helping me when I needed things. 

Grabby may be a machine, but I’ve come to love it ever since. Guilt eats at my chest and my heart.

I don’t sleep much that night.

Chapter Text

There is a bright light overhead, blinding my eyes so intensely that my ears ring in response. My shirt is gone, and I can see the bare skin of my stomach. My arms are bound at my sides, and beside me, I notice some kind of metal arms.

Almost like Grabby—the thought of Grabby makes me want to cry, but I don’t have enough control over my body to even do that. Instead, I watch in strange, detached fascination as the metal arms return with multiple tools. I see a knife—almost a knife—and watch as it slowly descends towards the center of my chest.

For a moment, I’m genuinely confused by what I’m seeing. Then—

The knife comes down, deep and hard, and blood begins to pool out. I flinch—or at least I try to flinch—but the metal hand moves lower, cutting further. It’s just like I’ve seen Grace cut meat with a knife. I breathe harshly—only then noticing the large mask over my mouth. I exhale shakily, watching it all happen as two hands appear and pull both sides of my flesh apart, revealing my insides.

A whimper escapes me, tears building in my eyes as I glance to the side, seeing Katie—

“Patient has complete human organs,” Katie says as I breathe out shakily, whimpering. I don’t feel the pain, but I can see it. The sight makes me queasy because I can see my ribs, my intestines—oh god. I’m going to be sick.

I’m going to be sick.

There is a lot of blood, and another metal hand cleans it up, tubing it away to prevent a mess.

“Obtaining important parts of patient’s body. Liver, gallbladder. Single rib, single kidney, single lung, large and small intestine, stomach, lastly, heart,” Katie says, and the heart monitor nearby begins to beep faster than normal.

A metal hand moves and grabs the beating intestine, pulling it out. The heart monitor stops.

Then…

After a minute, it starts again—

My eyes open, and I hear a knocking at the door. I'm still tied down from last night as I lie there, sweating, shaking, and staring up at the ceiling as Chia and Eleanor enter. “Good sleep question?” Chia greets me with a cheerful chirp as I breathe heavily, shaking while I squeeze my eyes, trying to blink back into reality (Fuck, what was that?).

“Y-yeah,” I stutter out as Eleanor begins to free me from the binds. I flinch when her claws get closer to me. Eleanor pauses, and I can see Chia looking at me, interested and suspicious. I force my body to calm down and give Eleanor a small nod. She removes the binds from my wrists and chest.

“Simon, bad sleep question?” Chia asks as I sit up, curling a single knee to my chest as I breathe. I shrug and eye Eleanor, who is moving the binds at the sides of the bed. 

“No—no, just decent. I told you I don’t dream,” I say, emphasizing the last few words as Eleanor moves around, not reacting as Chia opens the black box where my breakfast is. She pulls out a blood bag and hands it to me.

I look at it and then at Chia. “How are Rocky and Grace?” I ask.

Chia chitters for a moment after that, tapping her claws on the ground—it’s her version of fidgeting. “Chia not know. Chia only nurse. I see Grace, I see Rocky, but Chia not know what they do,” she replies.

Are they still trying to find a way to help me?

It’s what I want to ask. I don’t know what answer I want. Yes? Or no?

Deep inside, I hope it's a yes. That makes me feel pathetic and disgusted with myself after everything I’ve said to Grace and Rocky, just because I spoke first before thinking.

I hold the warm blood bag in my hands. “Okay,” I say. “Can you two leave while I eat?” I ask again, and Chia lets out a confused chitter at that, letting out a few clicks. “Simon hate being watched eating question?” she asks.

“Yes, I feel uncomfortable now. It would be nice if I could eat alone these days,” I clear my throat as Chia hums apprehensively and then moves. “Chia agree. Chia and Eleanor leave for privacy. Make sure we do not see Simon eat,” she says.

I watch Eleanor move unsurely, side by side, as I hold the blood bag in my hand, biting my lip as Chia and Eleanor leave the room.

For a moment, I sit there, holding the warm blood in my hand, waiting for a minute, then two, then three.

Until it’s a full thirty minutes, I stand up, shaking with hunger. I bring the blood bag to my lips, not to drink, but to puncture a hole, and without letting it touch my lips, I quickly turn it toward the toilet, watching as the blood mixes with the water there, my mouth salivating.

I squeeze until all the blood is mixed with the water, turning it into one big mess. I flush it.

I heal when I drink blood. That’s one of the mutations I’ve gotten from the blood ocean. I throw the empty blood bag on the table and unbutton my white shirt, seeing my skin on my chest. It’s clean—no cuts or anything.

I push my finger toward my stomach, feeling for my intestines. They’re all there. I place a hand on my neck, feeling the slow beat of my heart. My heart is also there.

I look at the door, then at the bed. I move toward the binds, touching them, examining the marks on the metal, which just means I get tied down often. Xenonite suits are not exactly soft; they’re a hard shell fit for an Eridian body.

Since Eleanor is the one that binds me, her claws, along with the suit, made marks on it.

I move toward the head straps and see a lot of marks.

They don’t use the head straps much, but somehow there are numerous marks on the head strap metal. As much as possible, Chia never lets Eleanor use it, nor the muzzle, because it makes me panic and stressed out, even if I try not to show it.

I bite my lip and sit on my hunches at that.

It’s possible that the head strap was used when I was out—like sleeping. I know I sleep deeply; no outer stimulus can wake me up. But every time I wake up, I am not wearing the head straps.

Which can only mean one thing.

Someone is taking me out of this room without my knowledge or anyone else around knowing. I don’t know how many times this has happened. I’ve been having strange dreams for a while—being cut up, skin being taken, my fingers being cut, nails being pulled off, eyes being taken, a leg taken, bones being pulled out of my body.

Countless injections pierced into my skin, and I felt like I was burning.

I always hear Katie talking. “Patient. Patient. Patient.” She calls me Patient, and the way she talks makes it seem like she’s conducting a test for something.

It doesn’t sound like a test that Grace or Rocky is making her do.

Suddenly, I’m scared as I stand up, sitting on my bed, biting my lip and hugging my knees to my chest, trying not to shake at the fact that it’s possible those “dreams” I’ve been having aren’t dreams at all but my waking hours when I wake to uncharted tests being done on me before I’m forced to sleep again by something cold entering my blood.

Shit.

So maybe I was right that Eleanor might have drugged me, because the way she handles me is rough when no one is around. But when Chia is here, she’s back to acting meek, kind, and soft. It makes me wonder if I wasn’t actually going crazy when I feel like someone is taking advantage of me and dragging me out of the room without anyone knowing. 

But how is that possible? Grace and Rocky should be watching over me, right? 

Unless… (they’ve given up on me, that’s the answer.) 

Maybe they finally took my word for it and left me alone. Now it’s no wonder they can do this to me. I bite the skin of my thumb as I try to think. Why are they doing this? This can’t be through Grace or Rocky’s orders. Even if they actually came to hate me, I doubt they would tell some Eridians to do this to me. 

Which only means one thing. They’re doing this alone and separately from everyone. 

For what? I have no idea. They’re taking parts of my body from me, injecting me with things I have no idea about. It’s a test, a test for what? Just what are they trying to do? 

I sit on the bed until lunchtime when Chia and Eleanor come back again. “Simon, good today question?” Chia asks, chittering at me as she hands me a blood bag, and I jiggle it around in my hands. I don’t move from how I sit, because I know I’ll collapse from hunger and the pain of my own stomach, desperate for the blood I’ve been conditioned to starve and drool for. 

But I’ve been raised to have self-control. Most of the time, I knew I would never get what I want. I can control myself from drinking any blood. I need proof. I glare at Eleanor, who stands behind Chia. 

I can’t just point fingers; I’d look crazy. I mean, I’ve been here for so long (has it been months? I can’t keep track anymore). Chia and Eleanor leave to give me “privacy” to feed, and I do the same thing with this blood, throwing it straight down the drain and leaving the empty bag on the table. I spend my time lying on my bed, trying my hardest not to pay attention to the pain in my stomach. 

I brainstorm ideas of what they want. 

They need my body parts for what? Making a new version of me? What is it for anyway? I’m not a ship to be taken down to be rebuilt. Just what is going on with these Eridians? Why would they need to dissect me like I'm a bug and take copies of my organs? What are they even doing with it? 

A few hours pass before I hear a small knock at the door, firm and familiar. I freeze, raising my head. The door doesn’t open, but someone knocked; I know that, and I know I didn’t make it up. I lie there, confused. “Simon?” 

It was Grace. I almost fall off the bed as I stand up, ignoring how my legs shake, and I nearly fall on my face as I sit by the wall beside the door. “Simon?” Grace calls again. He doesn’t open the door as I let out a shaky breath. 

Is that on purpose? Is he scared? “Here.” I swallow nervously as I hear Grace let out a relieved sigh. A small dull thud from behind the door sounds like Grace is leaning on it. “You okay?” Grace asks, his voice almost a whisper and a bit muffled by the door. “Yeah.” I trail off. 

We both fall silent. “You?” I ask. I hear him shuffle a bit behind the door; maybe he’s sitting down and making himself comfortable like I am. 

“Yeah,” Grace replies. 

I raise a knee to my chest and lean on it, biting my lips. I can imagine Grace doing the same thing, hugging both knees to his chest, rocking like he can’t do anything else but rock because he’s nervous. 

We don’t talk after that, just sitting there on the floor on each side. My mouth itches to say “I’m sorry” and another “sorry” again, this time for Rocky and for threatening to kill his family, even though I was just making a point. But Rocky lost so many good people that the topic of death is definitely not something you would threaten someone about. 

“Are you still there?” Grace asks, and I can’t help but snort, dropping my head tiredly to shake it. “What do you think? I don’t think I have another door here to leave through.” I say, and I hear Grace let out a choked cough at that. 

“Sorry, stupid question,” Grace says, and I can hear a light slap of skin on skin. 

“‘It’s fine,” I mumble, leaning a cheek on my knee.

It’s back to silence again after that, not before I hear tapping. I stop to listen, small faint tapping on the door, it was light. I do the same back when it stops, copying the pattern.

Tap. Tap tap. Tap. Tap tap tap.

It sounds like Grace is making a beat, I do the same thing back to him and I hear him snort. “You know the first time me and Rocky met, I thought he was tapping the glass, turns out he was pointing.” I hear Grace say as I let out a small snort.

“That sounds like a ‘you’ thing to do,” I mumbled, and I heard him chuckle at that. “Pretty much, but then again, it was my first—er—I guess second contact with an alien, soooo… I suppose you can lay off me and all,” he said with a small giggle as I broke into a small smile.

I raised my head a bit. “You said second; what's the first?” I asked.

Grace went quiet. “Astrophage… I uh—coined the name, actually. I was the first one to make contact with it and kill it,” he mumbled softly, his tone sounding guilty. I knew well it wasn’t about the fact that he killed it the first time he came into contact with it.

We both fell silent again; it was like a lever had been switched, and we both felt the air turning a little tense at the mention of astrophage.

“I’m sorry—” Grace said. 

“Grace.” I cut him off, pulling my other knee up to my chest. “Just stop it. It already happened; it’s been days since our last talk, and I’ve had time to think,” I said.

Grace was quiet. “What is it? Please don’t tell me to give it up. I’ll find a way to fix—”

I let out a sigh. “I’m not a thing to fix, Grace.” I cut him off again, and I heard a pound on the door, a dull thud like hitting your head on it. It happened again, and again, then it stopped.

“I don’t mean it like that—I didn’t mean for you to feel like that. I’m just—I’m sorry. I mean…” I heard Grace’s voice hitch as a sob escaped him. I moved a little; he was crying, wasn’t he?

“You’re the next human in this place, and—and I can’t lose you, okay? Fine, call me a lonely bastard and a selfish one too, because I just want to have another human here with me in this godforsaken fishbowl. I love it here, I really do. I have my best friend beside me and a place I can call my own. But it’s not Earth; there are no people. No humans in sight I can talk to, I can touch,” Grace’s voice shook as I listened, biting my lip and digging my nails into my palm as I folded myself onto my knees, leaning on them as I listened to Grace hitch a breath.

“I can go back; I can go back anytime. Mary’s fixed and has enough fuel to get me back to Earth. But then I realize, if I go back to Earth, who am I going back for? Aside from the fact that Earth has the right atmosphere for me. Who am I going back for? Who? I have no friends, I have no family, I have no siblings; my parents are dead, hell, I don’t even have a dog!” Grace said.

“And I pushed myself. I drowned myself in work here. One thing I realized about Eridians is that they want everything from Earth to be implemented here. I’m loved here because I saved them, and at the same time, I have everything from Earth that I can teach them. I can do anything here—build anything I want, create, meet. I have everything here at the palm of my hands, and I’m seen almost like a higher being by them. Which is kind of crazy at first; I’ve never been one to believe in God. But then again, who can you believe in if there’s nothing but anything higher than you?” Grace said, and I swallowed, leaning back and letting out a shaky breath as I heard him sniff behind the door.

“I work day and night; I forget to sleep, eat, rest, everything. Because I feel like if I so much as rest, I’ll lose important time since my lifespan isn’t the same as the Eridians here. I’m scared that I won’t be able to impart all the knowledge I have and I’ll be forgotten,” Grace whispered.

“You’re a hero, Grace. I don’t think Earth would forget what you did,” I said softly.

Grace snorted at that. “We don’t know that. I’m not there,” he whispered.

“I didn’t take you for someone who doesn’t believe that he’s called a hero on his own planet,” I retorted softly as Grace sniffed; I heard him wiping his nose and chuckling wetly. “Yeah, I mean, I wouldn’t put it past Stratt if so,” he said.

Grace breathed for a moment after that. 

I closed my eyes. “What’s your point, Grace?” I asked again, feeling more tired than ever. 

“I want you to stay, okay? Do I really have to write it on my forehead, or is it not obvious?” Grace raised his voice, and the door shook from him hitting his head against it as I sat up, no longer leaning on it. “Why can’t you just stay? Why can’t— Why did I have to mess this up? I just wanted to help. When you came here, I was happy; I was so hopeful that finally, finally someone like me was here, a human. For seven months, I waited for you to wake up, and when you did, you surpassed my expectations. I expected it would be hard for us to get along. I mean, I didn’t get along with many people back when I was on Earth. But somehow we clicked, you know? And please don’t drip psychology bullshit on me for being touch-starved. God!” I heard Grace say loudly, hitting his fist on the ground as I broke into a small snort at that.

“I’m not. Keep talking,” I said. For some reason, I still didn’t get the entirety of Grace’s point, but it made me feel good and better that Grace wouldn’t ever throw me out into the wild. His care somehow ran deeper than I expected from him.

“We clicked. And I was happy; I expected the worst. Maybe you’ll want to leave, use Mary to go to Earth, or—maybe kill me. I’ve watched enough movies for that to happen. But no. You’re just there. You’re… you! And I–I really want you to stay here. With me… for a very long time. I never thought I’d stop dreaming about Earth, but the moment you came, all I think about is you because somehow, it’s like you brought a piece of Earth with you. But it’s funny because, in your world, you never even stepped foot on Earth.” Grace lets out a small chuckle as I do as well, shaking my head while my shoulders shake in response.

“Was that funny? Or are you giving me a sarcastic laugh? I’m opening my heart to you, Simon. I can’t believe you right now.” I can almost hear Grace pout at that as I snort. “It is funny,” I said.

“That’s a first,” Grace replied. “You never find me funny.”

“I do. I really do. I just don’t think I have enough energy to actually laugh at one of your stupid jokes,” I said, and I hear Grace giggle.

“Really? You’re not messing with me?”

“Yeah. No—no, I’m not messing with you.” I let out a breath, smiling a little.

We lapse into silence at that moment as I listen to Grace sniff pathetically behind the door. I can hear him clearing his nose into what I hope is a tissue or at least a handkerchief and not on his shirt. But knowing Grace, it might be the latter.

“I’m getting you out there, Simon,” Grace says. 

“Are they scared of me?” I ask.

“No… kind of—a little… Not many saw what happened really… but they knew something went down between you and me and with Sandy being hurt, it didn’t go well, considering many were still in the lab when it happened,” Grace said.

“So it’s not good,” I say, trying to ignore the hurt at that. I would never hurt any of them. Whatever happened to me with Grace, it was an act of self-preservation from my body itself; I did not have any say in what happened at all.

“It’s getting better. You’re proving yourself that you’re still here. You’re still you,” Grace says.

“It probably didn’t look good to other Eridians that I took a bite out of their hero slash god, huh?” I ask, hearing Grace cough at that.

“They’re not just scared of me, are they?” I ask again.

“No… we’re not sure. Word goes around pretty fast here… Everyone is trusted around here, but sometimes… Sometimes Eridians just tend to slip a few pieces of information here and there. And Rocky or Adrian can’t be there to stop it,” Grace sighs as I hum.

My mind goes to Katie, Leon, Fred, and Eleanor. And for a moment, I hesitate. Should I tell Grace? What if it isn’t real, and I’m just dreaming it up because I’m paranoid?

“Do they want me dead?” I ask again.

Grace goes quiet.

“No.” He says, but there is hesitation.

I swallow nervously, rocking a leg. Did I dream about Katie or not? Are they one of the Eridians who thinks I need to die because I hurt Grace and thought I hurt Sandy too? Fuck—

“Grace, you hesitated,” I said, my voice shaking as I press a knuckle between my teeth to stifle another shaky breath. I’m getting too much déjà vu at what’s happening right now. I’m getting too much of it because now I know why I feel so terrified—not in a way that I want to hide, but in a way that I know I cannot escape it. Like I’m forever marked.

Filament Station. Being blamed for families dying. Hands on my neck as I lose consciousness. The guards not bothering to help me at all as they watch my eyes flutter shut.

“Simon? Are you okay? You’re breathing hard,” I hear Grace say as I pant, trying to breathe as my body shakes. Faintly, I hear the door open and warm hands at the back of my neck and my chest, with blue eyes and blond hair in front of me, crouched, eyes red-rimmed as if he’s been crying.

“Simon. Breathe,” Grace said, helping me lean against the wall as I try to follow his instructions. “Simon—”

“I’m fucking trying; don’t tell me what to do.” I said, but it sounds more like a wheeze than a threat, as Grace’s brows furrow in focus, placing a hand on my chest as I shiver. “Follow me,” Grace said as he grabs my hand and places it on his own chest and breathes slowly.

I can’t focus at all—not on the moving chest of Grace. All I hear is a voice screaming at me that it’s my fault and I deserve to die.

“Simon!” Grace calls me again, and he pinches my arm, causing me to snap out of it as I let out a yelp, momentarily confused. “Focus on me, damn it.” Grace said, his voice harsh as he holds my wrist, shaking me as he places it over his chest again. “Breathe with me, okay? I’ll pinch you again if you fall back once more. Don’t lose yourself,” Grace said.

I nodded shakily and followed his breaths. I tried to remember how my mom helped me with my own attacks as well. I counted from 1 to 5 and then from 5 to 1. I thought of dogs running in a circle, trying to chase their tails. I tried to remember what I had done for the day. How do you make a cup of coffee?

It didn’t take me long to breathe, and Grace let out a breath of relief as I calmed down, slowly lowering my head. Grace slipped a hand behind my neck and held it there; he was warm and felt alive. If I were more starved than I was, I could almost hear the rush of blood in his veins. 

But I didn't, because this was Grace. I cared for him so much that I would rather bite myself than him again.

“Did you really have to pinch me?” I asked.

Grace cracked a smile as I looked up at him. 

“I learned from Stratt that pain does make you snap out of it sometimes. When I get overwhelmed, I just do this.” Grace said as he mimed a light slap on his cheek, and I gave him a dubious look.

“You like pain?” I asked, quite seriously, if I may say.

And Grace burst out laughing at that.

—

“I heard you broke Grabby,” Grace says as I pick myself up from the floor and follow him to my bed. We both sit down. “I did,” I sigh. “Rocky’s angry at you. What did you tell him?” Grace asks as I let out a low hum, looking down at my lap as I shift.

“Basically threatened to kill his family to make a point,” I shrug lightly as Grace gives me a horrified look.

“And why would you do that?” Grace asks, his voice raising a bit as I shrug. “I don’t know… I just— you both are the same. I just…” I shake my head, sighing tiredly, my shoulders hitching up and then slumping over.

“You both want to fix me so damn much. Always too hopeful, like everything would turn out the right way. It makes me… angry. Staying around here doesn’t help. I feel crazy; I’ve gotten used to the sun in the dome, and I feel like I’m about to rip the wall in half. I just… lost it on Rocky. I lashed out at him. I didn’t mean anything I said.” My voice is muffled as I bury my face in my hands in horror.

Grace doesn’t respond right away. Not before I feel him place a hand on my back. “Rocky’s just a bit angry. I think I know that he knows you don’t mean it. You’re a good guy, Simon. I just wish you’d stop pushing us away.”

“I’m not. I’m really not. I’m angry at both of you right now for making me hope I’d get better. You know I won’t. If we’re talking about a serious illness, I’m at the last stage,” I say to Grace.

“We’ll find a way then,” Grace says, his voice strong. I turn to him, knowing how I look right now: my hair all messed up, my eyes tired, and my skin now pale. I don’t look much different physically, but I’ve lost more color than I expected. I look more like a corpse than a normal person. That is, if I can still be one.

“If not? I stay as a monster,” I say.

“First of all, you’re not a monster. And second, if we don’t find a way, then you stay with us like this—forever. You’re still Simon,” Grace says, moving closer as I huff. “It’s dangerous, Grace. You know that.” I shake my head at him. “It would be better to just…” I mime a gun and place it over my temple.

I meant it as a light-hearted joke, really. I’ve seen people die with a gun to the head, and I don’t know why I find it funny to make a joke referring to that. Grace slaps it away, his face angry and his brows furrowed. “Can you stop saying that?” he sounds angry as I give him a smirk. “You do get angry, huh? Guess even a teacher gets angry,” I say. For some reason, I feel a bit like I’ve won. Who knew Grace knew how to get angry?

“Take this seriously, Simon,” Grace says. 

“I am.” I raise a hand as Grace huffs. 

We talk a bit more until we both end up lying on my bed, trying to fit together. It isn’t as large as the one I have back in my house, and with the added bulky straps of my bindings, it makes us pressed against each other as we stare at the ceiling. 

“This is all you look at when you’re strapped for the night?” Grace whispers as he fiddles with the strap at the side while I watch him.

“Basically,” I shrug. 

Grace is quiet for a moment, just waving it around lightly, watching it flip back and forth. “Tomorrow you’ll be out,” he says, and God, he says it with so much finality that I sit up in surprise. “What?” I ask, frazzled and confused. Grace pushes himself up onto his elbow, brows furrowed.

“I don’t like this, okay? None of us do. This is inhumane. Getting strapped and tied to the bed like a dog? Having to be tackled down just because you want to express anger? I couldn’t sleep the day I had to watch you be tied down. I just couldn't!" Grace says as I watch him bite his lip hard, rubbing his eyes, knocking his glasses sideways.

“I— that would be dangerous. And—and even if I can control myself, the Eridians wouldn’t want me out,” I stutter, unsure as I palm a hand over my face and drag it down.

“Leave that to me, okay? They don’t have a say if I want something to happen. And I have Rocky and Adrian backing me up.” Grace says, sounding so sure of himself that I can’t help but believe him as I let out a breath.

“You’re so full of yourself,” I tell Grace, who just flashes me a smile. “I know, right?” he says, nudging me with his shoulder.

We stay there, half propped up, our elbows touching. We look at each other, and for a moment, I thought Grace leaned closer. But he moves again, sitting up fully and running a hand through his hair.

“I’m going to go now; I need to talk to some people,” he says, throwing his feet off the bed.

“You mean some Eridians?” I try to joke, but it falls flat as I watch Grace breathe nervously, running his hands together as he stands up. “Yeah,” he turns to me with a shaky smile.

“Will it work? Will I get out of here by tomorrow?” I ask. For someone who keeps insinuating that he wants to die, I’m somehow desperate to get out of these four white walls. It’s depressing and pathetic.

Turns out being human means you can’t stay on one idea. I mean, do I want to die or not? Why is it so confusing?

“It has to,” Grace says. “I’ll be back tomorrow, and I’ll be there to get you out,” he smiles at me as he walks towards the door.

He stops and turns to me again to flash another smile. “You think you can wait 86,400 seconds for me?” he asks with a small smile.

“Don’t make me calculate how many hours that is, please,” I say, mostly as a joke.

24 hours, huh? 

Of course I can.

Grace just smiles. “We’re getting you out of here, okay? Maybe that’s what I should have done first,” he says.

“You didn’t know,” I say softly.

“I should have,” Grace says, looking away for a moment, brows furrowed. “I was so blinded by the need to save you that I didn’t even think about how you’re doing right now… I just… I guess I just want to keep being a hero, huh?” He smiles.

“He told you that, huh?” I say lowly.

Grace just gives me a lopsided smile and a shrug. “We don’t really keep secrets from each other,” he says as he opens the door and steps to leave.

“Wait,” I say as I stand up to walk up to him.

Grace turns again. “Did you… I mean—am I still being tested?” I ask, unsure. Grace makes a confused face.

“Not anymore. For weeks, we have everything we need,” Grace says as the door behind him closes again on its own.

“Okay.” I step back, feeling a bit confused.

Am I dreaming? I have to be, right? “Do you know a Katie, Leon, and Fred?” I ask. Grace makes a confused look.

“I don’t think I know any Eridians with those names, or even gave someone that,” he says as I fall back another step in confusion.

Okay. Let me try to rationalize this.

It can be a dream. I’ve gone through the same thing back in my world with Filament Station, and it’s possible that I’ve made it all up because I’ve been paranoid about what everyone thinks about me at the moment.

There have been many times I’ve assumed someone wanted to kill me because of a single look they’ve given me, and I’ve lashed out a couple of times, only to realize some prisoners don’t even know me and don’t even know what happened to Filament Station, given how long they’ve been there…

I was prone to assuming things, especially when my life is in danger, and my mind makes things up. Almost like this one too. I’ve been in this room for so long that it’s slowly affecting how I think and perceive the Eridians around me.

And...

What about Eleanor?

It’s possible that because I always see her around, I’ve brought her into my dreams as well. But why did she respond so weirdly when I asked her if she took me out for a test and if I was drugged by her?

But then again, I’m just pointing fingers at her, accusing her and all. I would be angry as well if someone accused me of drugging them and taking them to tests they weren’t meant to take.

I can’t lie; I’ve been paranoid for so long since I was brought into this room. It’s in my nature to think of everything as bad, and it’s possible I’ve just dragged Eleanor into that because I don’t know her as well as I know Chia.

That’s why she acts so strangely with me when we’re alone, and with Grace’s information about what other Eridians think of me. For all I know, she’s just scared and is simply doing her job.

I can’t believe I made up Eridians in my head because I thought getting tortured seemed like a plausible way to go (I would like to dissect my brain sooner or later. Maybe Grace would go along with that idea).

“Is something wrong? You can tell me.” Grace steps closer to me, and I let out a relieved breath as I come to a conclusion—I am making it all up. 

Curse me and my paranoid mind. COI and Eden have done irreparable things to me; I need to let it go at some point. Eleanor is an innocent Eridian.

“Nothing, I was just worried. Go on. Set me free; I want to see the ocean again,” I motion him away as Grace snorts, rolling his eyes. “See you soon,” he says, the door behind him opening again as he steps out.

I stay where I stand, waving slightly. 

“See you soon,” I say, staring back at Grace’s hopeful face. The door closes. 

I can’t wait to leave this stupid room. I feel glad I finally have the chance to leave this place, but something inside me tells me that something is wrong, though I don’t know what.

I stay in bed for a while, sitting there, waiting for the next time Chia comes. Hopefully, it will be the last. 

A familiar knock on the door precedes it whooshing open. Chia comes in with a soft chitter of notes, and behind her, Eleanor follows; her body is stiff and taut, but I don’t pay much attention to it because my stomach feels like it’s collapsing from hunger.

Chapter Text

Plip. Plip. Plip. Plip.

There is a sound of water hitting metal; my eyes are closed. When the hell did I even have the time to sleep? I was… I was very excited to leave. Grace told me to wait for a whole day for the verdict on whether I could come out, and I… I had dinner. Chia came with Eleanor, and after throwing the two of my blood bags away, I finally drank for dinner, and it was good. 

It was good and so warm that I fell asleep just after. Or was it before? 

Wait… I can’t remember. 

What is wrong with me? 

I feel like I’m stuck in some kind of state where I can’t think. 

I feel stupid for some reason. 

I crack my eyes open and stare at the console of the iron lung, sitting in that goddamn uncomfortable seat in the submarine as I look down at the numbers and the compass pointing south. Plip. Plip. Plip. I breathe out as I look down at my hands, seeing how both hands are holding the controls—as if I were in the middle of using them. 

Outside, I hear the creak of metal, reacting to the water—blood against it. For a moment, I sit there, struck by shock? Confusion? How did I get here? Scratch that—how am I back here? 

“Convict, what are you waiting for? Move the damn submarine. Don’t waste any time.” I flinch as I turn toward the speakers. The walls of the submarine look undamaged—no bite marks, no collapsed hull. It looks just as I remembered it. 

I let out a shaky breath that almost sounds like a sob as I shut my eyes. Okay, this is another dream, isn’t it? It’s okay. It’s easy. I’ll wake up; that will be all. It’s okay. It’s okay. Just a dream. Just a dream. 

I try to lull myself to wake up—and for a moment, I don’t hear the sound of water coming from the pipes dripping down or the shuddering of the metal. I open my eyes again and look back at the same rusty console of the SM-13. I’m not back in my stupid room. 

“What?” I whisper, my voice shaking as I let go of the controls, looking at my hands and noticing my clothes. I’m wearing what I wore when I first stepped inside the iron lung. What—I’m dreaming, right? Why am I still here? 

“Convict, get a move on. Do you want to be free or not?” I hear Ava’s voice again, and I flinch. “What?” I say again. I feel dumb and stupid, and slowly I feel cold all over my body, especially in my feet. My teeth feel tingly, and the tips of my fingers feel numb. 

“Are you dumb and deaf, Convict? I said get a move on,” Ava says again, and I shakily look back at the console. Looking at the buttons, I breathe in shakily, grabbing the angle control and slowly turning the submarine sidewards. The whole ship shudders, and I almost let go of the button out of terror. 

“There you go. Remember to do your job properly, but keep it fast. You have oxygen, but that isn’t unlimited,” Ava says. 

This is wrong. This isn’t how it happened. The radio cut off when the submarine was lowered to the right depth. I remember it; I can’t forget it. I can’t forget the terror, the pain. Everything. 

This is a dream; I know it is. But somehow, I can’t let go of the fear that is slowly coursing through my veins as I follow my instincts and do what I did back then—looking at the map and moving the submarine at right angles and the right numbers, my hands tingling to numbness with fear. 

My boots tap on the metal below me as the submarine shudders around me. This isn’t real. I want to wake up. I have to wake up.

I scratch off the marks one by one on the map. 

Whatever is happening now, it isn’t how it happened. 

I’m in the iron lung; I’m in the blood ocean. I follow the map, press the camera, and watch the anomaly appear, bones surfacing. 

I remember this. I remember all of this—

The submarine shudders, and I am thrown off my kitler, falling over the camera button. The screen flashes white, blinding me. I try to stand up, but freeze when I stare back at an eye. A yell is caught in my throat as the screen slowly fades to black and the whole submarine turns. For a moment, I am airborne. 

Then the next moment, I am down, my head banging on the metal as I scream in pain. I turn to my side, clutching my head, ears ringing as the submarine continues to shudder, and I feel like I’m falling into something. 

It’s like a free dive, except the submarine shakes as pressure is placed on the ship, the metal creaking, and the whole vessel trembles as if I’m placed in a jar and shaken.

The speaker crackles as I push myself up, turning towards it while panting. I feel something dripping over my eye, and I place a finger on it. Dipping my finger in the substance, I look to see blood. Blood—

“Wake up, Simon.”

I startle at the sound from the speaker. It doesn’t sound like Ava or even the scientist from SM-8. It was… Grace…

“Grace? Grace?!” I shout, standing up. My vision tilts horribly, and I feel like I’m being plunged into cold water. My body continues to feel cold and numb, and I have no idea why. I’m starting to think it isn’t just fear; it’s something else.

The submarine shudders, and I panickedly press the X-ray camera again. It shows rows of pointed bones. It’s new—

The submarine shakes, and I float for a moment before I fall back down. This time, I grab onto the pipes to keep myself steady, my legs trembling as my vision continues to tilt. 

“Grace!” I call again, my voice tethering to an almost desperate cry. It’s almost embarrassing to say I’m glad to consider this a dream because Grace was never in my world; therefore, why would his voice be here?

“Simon, wake up. We’ll lose you, Simon. And you’ll lose us!” The voice on the speakers says as I shakily stand up, walking toward the speakers. Just like with the scientist from SM-8, the wires are cut.

“Wake up, Simon. Wake up!” The voice yells, and the submarine shudders again. Suddenly, the pipes scream, and a burst of hot steam almost hits me. I flinch back with a yell, turning toward the speaker.

“I don’t know how!” I scream back, feeling like I’m about to fall. I’m so cold. Why the hell is that?

“Wake up, Simon. They’re taking us. They’re taking us! Don’t let these lower life forms take us.” Grace’s voice drops lower, almost into a shriek. It’s the monster—I know it well. It’s not Grace. I know that. But I feel a little better that I’m hearing Grace’s voice even if it isn’t him (what does this say about me?).

“I don’t get it,” I say as I run toward the console, falling into the seat and hunkering down like a heavy weight. The submarine shudders again, and I see my oxygen falling another bar down. 

Why am I not waking up? I’m confused.

I angle the submarine, and it shudders as if it’s stuck. I hear loud screaming from the speaker and yell in pain at the ringing it sends through my ears, covering them as I duck between my legs. 

“Save us!” the voice yells as I grit my teeth and press the button to move forward. Suddenly, the submarine creaks again, the metal shifting, and I freeze. I’m stuck—I can’t move the submarine. I click the button, but the number doesn’t change at all. I click the button below, and it stays the same.

“You can’t let us be taken away, Simon. We can fix everything. This is all your fault! How can you do this to us?!” I grit my teeth again as I stand up, falling over the wall, breathing shakily.

“What do you want?!” I scream. “What do you want, huh?!” I ask, slamming a fist on the wall, banging it loudly.

The speaker shrieks in response, and I press my palms over my ears for a moment to gather my thoughts as the submarine shakes, almost throwing me onto my back, but I hold on. 

The monster has me in its mouth, most definitely. But why? 

I punch the wall again. “What do you want?!” I scream once more. Not before I notice a puff of smoke leaving my mouth—smoke?

I freeze, cupping a hand in front of my mouth as I shakily breathe out. Slowly, it’s as if I swallowed smoke; it leaves my mouth, turning it dry and freezing.

“Cold. So cold. Simon. Save us. It’s so cold. I miss the warmth. I miss it. I miss it.” I stop to swallow as I listen to Grace whisper. I know it’s not Grace. It’s the monster talking using his voice.

“So cold. So cold. Wake up, Simon. We’re being taken away. You’re being taken away from us. Not fair, not fair, not fair!” The voice shrieked again in anger as I gritted my teeth and held onto the pipes.  

The monster’s right.  

It’s cold.  

Why is it so damn cold?  

I panted, breathing out more cold smoke from my lips as I fell onto the ground, shaking. My clothes are thick, but I have a nagging feeling that whatever I’m feeling isn’t coming from outside or anywhere else but from inside me.  

“Do you see it now? Do you see it? They will kill us, take what is ours! It’s not fair! It’s not!” The voice shrieked angrily as my mind turned muddled, slow, and I felt stupid. The shrieking voice didn’t help as I tried to think.  

I can’t think…  

I need someone who can think right now…  

Oh God. What is happening to me?  

“Grace?” I called out for good measure, hoping he would be here. I don’t know why, but I feel like he would know what to do right now.  

“He’s not here,” the voice said—even though it was using Grace’s voice I let out a shaky breath, curling my arms around myself as I shuddered in the cold.  

This isn’t right. The submarine was steaming hot when I was here, it was supposed to feel hot, all because of the pipes around. It was why I had to strip off layers of clothing back then. It was so hot from the machines and pipes, not to mention the heat coming from the blood ocean itself.  

So why am I cold?  

“Is this it? Is this our end? Will we sleep forever again?” the voice asked, whispering, scared. I lay there, curling my legs up to my chest as I shut my eyes.  

Wake up, Simon.  

Wake up!  

Why can’t I wake up from this stupid dream?  

What did I even do last?  

Something’s wrong. I remember having dinner, with Chia and Eleanor watching over me as usual, and then nothing. Why is that? I fell asleep?  

Why can’t I remember the ceiling? Or being tied down?  

Something’s wrong.  

I pushed myself up to my feet, stumbling towards the console. I punched the button a few times. It didn’t move. It barely budged. I adjusted the angle of the SM-13; it creaked, and the hull almost gave way, so I let it go and stepped back.  

My legs almost gave out as I turned toward the X-ray camera.  

I walked towards it, punching the camera button, and the screen flashed.  

It’s….  

Nothing?  

There are no bones or anything around, not even the space around itself. If I was in the mouth of the monster, I should be seeing something. And even then, the ship should be broken now, with its teeth piercing it.  

“Save… us,” the voice said again, this time weaker, its sound shifting through many voices until it stopped at Grace’s voice.  

I breathed out shakily.  

This is a dream, but it also feels real. Something’s wrong, and I don’t know what.  

I stumbled back to the console, grabbed the angular control, and twisted.  

The ship shuddered, shook, and the metal creaked. But I continued. The angle slowly turned. Then suddenly, on the compass, there was a single dot, and the clicking sound was fast and quick.  

Something is there. I turned the ship toward that direction and ran to the X-ray again, punching the button.  

Nothing.  

It’s completely black. Is it broken?  

I punched the camera button again, and it showed the same thing.  

The compass continued to click, indicating something was close by. A cave entrance? A bone? The monster? I don’t know. I cursed under my breath, punching the wall as I tried the button again; it showed nothing.  

Why isn’t it working?  

“It won’t work… it never works in the cold,” the voice said, and I froze.  

Cold?  

What cold?  

“What are you saying?” I asked.  

“It will never work. We’ll be frozen once more, forever. Alone. Forever. You and me. Us. Together…” the voice continued to whisper as I stumbled toward the console and stared at the compass. “What cold?!” I asked again.  

The voice didn’t respond after that; the speaker went quiet, and my head throbbed. My hands turned numb, along with my body. I turned toward the wall.  

I need to break it.  

I looked around the submarine. What can I use to stab a hole in the submarine? What can I—  

I eyed the chair, reached for it, and pushed the back seat; it fell back, the steel rebounding with a loud snap.  

I got an idea and set to work.  

I can use the metal rod from the chair to break the submarine walls. I ended up grabbing the life vest again and putting it on, just in case blood fills in as I pulled the back seat. The rusty metal easily gave way as I fell onto my back with a loud yelp, holding onto the back seat. I spun it around and saw the metal jutting up.  

This is it! 

I stand up quickly, as fast as I can with bones that feel like they're filled with ice and blood that feels like it’s turning solid as I slam my fists against the wall. The submarine vibrates as I hit it again and again and again.

I step back, watching the rust fall off, bits of metal landing on my boots and caking them with dusty rust as I pant, leaning back and trying to breathe. 

I don’t remember how thick the damn thing is, but I know I can get through it as long as I keep doing this—just hitting the wall with the chair over and over, rust dust spreading across the sub as I continue with loud thumps.

The iron lung shudders, but I keep hitting again and again. And finally, it gives.

I run back, expecting blood to pour in or the oxygen levels to drop—but nothing. Did the wall not give in? I walk back closer, seeing more wall—

Fuuuuuck.

I yell and throw the back seat of the chair on the ground angrily. Is this a cave wall? Have I been hitting the wrong side of the submarine? What the fuck? I stomp in anger, kicking the chair in front of the console. I feel the pain in my toe, but I can’t be bothered to care at this point.

“Fuck! Fuck!” I scream in frustration. This is so stupid. This is just a dream; why am I working so hard for a goddamn dream? I turn toward the wall, huffing and puffing white smoke as I walk towards it. This is so stupid. This is fucked. I’m stuck in a dream in a place I hate the most. Out of all the nightmares I could think of, this?

I pause as I stare at the “wall”—or at least what I believe is an extension of it. It’s a rusty color—well, I think it’s rusty. It’s hard to say. It’s dark and has the same hue as rust, but something’s off. It’s like a dark maroon that slowly edges to the color of rust.

I slowly reach toward it, and suddenly my hand goes through. Through! It’s not a wall!

What is it?

I pull back my hand and grab a fistful of it. It comes back as some kind of jelly-like substance—not fully jelly, but definitely some kind of liquid that’s turned slightly solid. I crumple it in my hand; it smells like copper and rust—

Wait…

Copper and rust.

I move it closer to my nose and sniff, curling in disgust and turning away as I catch the familiar smell of blood and iron. The steam from the pipes wooshes again, and the jelly in my hand melts—

It’s blood.

It’s the blood from the blood ocean.

I turn back to the hole and grab more, pulling it all into the sub as the heat from inside (that somehow I can’t feel for some reason) brings it back to its normal form. Blood. Now there’s blood under my boots, turned into a sticky liquid.

Just what is going on?

I continue to “dig” through the jelly-like blood, watching as it splatters down on the ground beneath me as I grit my teeth against the smell—

I stop when my hand meets something—slimy, soft. I pull more of the jelly blood aside and suddenly I’m staring at a hand—a limp hand that makes me stifle a scream and step back in horror. 

“God—” I said, terrified and albeit a bit disgusted at the limp human looking hand attached to something.

It’s white, pale as paper, limp and attached to some kind of large white skin. I feel sick as I stare back at it, expecting it to move.

But it doesn’t. So I step closer, slowly moving my hand toward it and poking it. It’s cold—just like the jelly blood. What is this? Is this—?

I see another hand when I dig more of the jelly.

This might be it. The monster that decided to take a bite out of my sub to kill me. I don’t know if I’m right, but I have a feeling it might actually be the monster.

For a moment, I sit back down in the chair. I look at the speaker. “Hey,” I call. “Hey!”

The submarine shudders, and from the hole, I can see the hands move, shifting, spilling into the jelly blood inside. 

“What is it that you want?” The voice sounds tired, as if I’ve woken it from sleep. “I can see you right now.” I say as I watch the white skin ripple and move, but with great difficulty.

Looks like we’re both stuck here. In this… jelly blood ocean, in my dream. This is weird. Why am I dreaming weird things?

“I see,” the voice says. “Do you get it now?” it asks. 

Get what?

“No, I don’t understand a single thing, thank you,” I finally reply, leaning on my knee as the speaker crackles. The skin ripples again, and I feel like it’s mildly annoyed with me.

“You brought this to us!” It screams again, angry as the submarine shakes, and I see the hands twitch, clawing toward the hole in anger, breaking it and ripping it.

It can’t reach me because it’s attached to a weird, slimy, cold-looking skin. 

“What the fuck are you even talking about, huh? God, this fucking dream.” I groan, wanting to palm my face, but it’s sticky with cold—now slowly getting warm blood. 

“You’re quite slow, aren’t you? This is not a dream. You brought this to all of us. Look at what you’ve done!” The voice shrieks again in anger as I kick the wall to silence it. “Shut the fuck up!” I scream, and it stops. 

For a moment, I’m surprised it listened. “This is not a dream,” it says again. 

My brows furrow. “What is this, then? A delusion?” I laugh at my joke, but the submarine just shudders as I can see the monster trying to move but unable to. Serves it right. 

“This is a place. A connection for all of us. A beautiful sanctuary,” it says. 

It’s not a good explanation at all, and it’s completely abstract. I don’t understand what it means. “Try again.” I kick the wall, and the voice hisses, angry at me like a child would be. 

“Cold,” it says. 

“Try again,” I growl as the monster shrieks again, causing everything to shake. But at some point through it all, I’m getting used to it. It makes my heart race, but I feel like it can’t do anything to me at all. 

“We’re both stuck here, dumbass. Do you really think I want to be here? What do you mean this isn’t a dream? Where am I? And how do I get out?” I ask again. 

The submarine shudders again. “Let me help you remember.” 

My brows furrow at that as I let out a confused sound. “Remember what?” 

Then the hole in the submarine spills jelly-like blood, and suddenly I am looking straight back at skin—white skin, but I can see human bones pressed up against it. 

I gag.

—

There is a blue light blinking in and out of existence. For a moment, I had no idea what I was staring at. The sky? No, I don’t think so. The sky wouldn’t turn black; granted it's a fake one, but I believe it’s made properly enough that I know it wouldn’t just wink out of existence. 

“Simon, awake, question?” I feel my blood run cold as I turn my head to see a familiar eye-catching color—Katie. She peers over me, and now I just notice that I am lying in some kind of tub. 

It’s almost reminiscent of a bathtub, but this one is freezing cold to the touch. I can’t tell if it’s made of xenonite or metal; I know that xenonite has always been warm to the touch, but this feels too cold even for metal, it still would retain heat from my own body (but it almost feels like my body can’t even emit heat anymore… That’s bad). 

“What did you do?” My tongue barely moves, and I glare at Katie. I’m drugged to hell and back. I can’t wiggle my toes, and I can't feel my tongue. Katie chirps a little, leaning in closer, as if she’s assessing me. 

“Patient awake as expected. Dosage can kill a normal human, but it’s enough to incapacitate the patient. Very dangerous to leave alive. Initiating Plan C; hope for success.” Katie chirps as I breathe out. Plan C? What is that? 

Is this a dream? This doesn’t feel like one. I can feel the freezing cold from the tub creeping into my flesh and bones. For some reason, the cold makes me want to scream, claw, hit something; it feels like something I cannot go back from. 

I let out a series of noises that sound like growling and whining, trying to force a word out of my mouth. It’s harder than trying to wiggle a single toe or my fingers. 

“Simon, awake and lucid, question?” Katie asks again as I try to focus on her. The blinking blue light feels strange, and I don’t know why. On my other side is Fred; he’s inserting something into my inner elbows, multiple IV lines. 

One, two, three, four? Five! Why are there so many? 

God, I can’t think; my brain feels like it’s turning to mush at the moment. I need a moment to think. What the hell is going on? I can’t process a single proper thought; it’s like I’m in a room full of people and can’t seem to hear myself properly. 

I smack my lips for a moment as I watch my other arm get punctured with multiple IV needles, and the rush of cold entering my body feels deadly for strange reasons. 

“Is this real?” I ask. 

“Simon, tell me. Is this real, question?” Katie asks as I almost growl. I want to kick the tub, but my body is bound and tied. “Tell me. What are you doing? Grace didn’t tell you to do this,” I manage to force out, glaring at Katie, who chirps and hums. 

“Katie and the other scientists found a black box.” 

My heart drops at that. 

“Black box corrupted, but Eridian scientists are smart; it was easy to decrypt. Inside are many many files about the life forms from your world, files containing bad bad bad bad life forms. Danger for planet Erid.” Katie explains. “They are not allowed in this world, Simon.” She leans in, letting out a small chirp as she bares her claw at the side of the tub, and I stare up at her, eyes wide, trembling a little. 

“Does Grace know? Rocky? Adrian?” I ask. 

“Just some Eridian scientists who found a black box,” Katie replies. I let out a noise that almost sounds like a cry and a laugh. I should say I was relieved that this was kept from them. But at the same time, what does that say about the situation? (I'm probably dying…)

Okay, I get it now. This is a group of Eridians taking it upon themselves to eliminate the threat, which is… well, me. 

“Are you working on your own, or do you have something behind you?” I ask. 

“Katie will not reply to that question,” Katie says, and I clench my fist, closing my eyes before staring at the ceiling. 

“Can’t you just answer? I’m dying anyway; you found a way somehow. It’s probably why I’ve been brought here multiple times. You took my arm, my leg, my organs, my teeth. What did you do with all of those, even?” I ask, feeling disgusted at what’s happening… or has been happening. To me.

Without my consent or even my realizing it, they’ve done all of those things, and it makes me feel disgusted and terrified. It makes me feel cold. And it isn’t just the liquid entering my body that’s making me feel that.

It’s the way they did it without any remorse. I had small waking moments between those tests, and I could see that neither of them even hesitated to take an arm or a finger from me. 

“Find a way to kill the threat. There is no good way to fully kill Simon; therefore, we come to the conclusion to put Simon into a deep sleep, so when we cut Simon up into pieces, the body will not heal to normal. Simon’s body does not work when it’s cold, too cold,” Katie explains as I breathe out harshly. 

If my leg were loose from its bindings, it would be rocking now as I close my eyes, trying to catch my breath. 

Oh god.

Oh shit… They’re going to kill me.

I’m going to die…

Not even death, in fact. It’s just being suspended into nothingness. I’m alive but not. 

I—

I…I can't. 

“Grace will know; he’ll be here,” I say, my voice shaking as I stare up at Katie. “You can’t do this! I’m not planning on doing anything to any of you! I swear!” I plead as I try to pull on the binds. They don’t budge, and my strength is slowly leaving me. 

“It will not be long before the cold takes Simon. We wait for Simon to fully freeze and then cut Simon to pieces, ensuring Simon no longer wakes up,” Katie says as I shudder, letting out a small, “Oh god.” 

Now I just wish this was a horrible dream. A really bad one. In fact, for some reason, I’d take being choked in a COI cell again over this bullshit I am experiencing right now. At least there I could fight back if I needed to.

Right now, my strength is failing me, and my vision is blurring. I’ll fall asleep… No… I’ll fall into a coma, not feeling a single thing as they cut me up and probably throw me into boxes, hiding me away so I won’t heal forever. I won’t die, but I won’t live either. I’m just in a state of nothingness… At least I won’t feel it when it happens, right?

I let out a sob as Katie chirps for Leon, and both Katie and Fred climb down the handrail. “You can’t do this! Grace will try to find me!” I scream at her, trying to tilt my head to look at her leaving, but the tub is deep enough that I can’t see beyond it. 

(Well fuckity fuck!

I’m fucked!)

“Grace will remember Simon as a friend who left,” Katie says. “That won’t work; Grace is much smarter than you think!” I scream again. “Help! Help!” I yell, sobbing as I squirm and struggle to get the IV lines out of my arms, but it doesn’t work. 

“Get me… out of here! If you do, I won’t tell them what you just did. I won’t. I didn’t the first time, did I? Didn’t Eleanor tell you how I was suspicious of her? I could have told them! Anytime!” I say. 

I hear Katie moving around. “No believe Simon. That will not work,” Katie says. I let out an angry yell, the tub shaking as I continue to squirm. “I’m not evil, I’m not bad; I don’t plan to take over your planet, please,” I whisper. 

Katie doesn’t reply. I hear Leon chirp at her for a moment, then she chirps back. Suddenly, I see her climbing back down the handrail beside me. “Simon does not understand how important safety is for Erid. Elders are apprehensive of Simon, and what Simon did to Grace made it worse. Simon attacked another human; that is not good for Erid. Simon attacked the savior. Not very, very good for Erid. You understand, question?” she asks as I shiver. 

“I know! I know. Is this you telling me that the elders or whatever higher-ups you have here are going behind Grace and Rocky’s backs?” I ask, shaking. 

Katie doesn’t respond. 

“You can’t kill me! Grace will know, Rocky will; hell, half of—” I am cut off by Katie’s voice, her real voice. The notes are painful to listen to as my ears ring. 

“This is bigger than the both of us. It is more than Simon, and it is more than Katie. Simon prove to be a threat, and we must ensure that Erid is safe from threats like Simon. We will not let Simon’s kind run loose in Erid,” Katie says.

A rush of déjà vu fills me as I let out a pathetic breath, staring up at the ceiling and clenching my fist, tears building in my eyes. My vision spots, and I know it won’t be long until I become unresponsive.

“You consider changing your name to Ava?” I ask Katie, who doesn’t respond, clearly not caring about what I just said. I bite my lip and groan, closing my eyes in exasperation. 

“In Eridian, we have no goodbyes. But you will be the first we all say goodbye to. Goodbye, Simon,” Katie says, and the tub shudders. Suddenly, I see Eleanor above me; she chirps lowly, and something above me creaks and moves— the tub I’m lying on isn’t a tub. It’s a coffin. 

I bite my tongue, but a sob still escapes my lips. “Fuck. Shit! Shit!” I yell as the metal lid slowly encases me, pushed down until it finally snaps into place, and suddenly it gets colder. It’s probably some kind of coffin that acts like a fridge to quicken my sleep. 

“Someone! Anyone! Please! Let me out! Let me out of here!” I scream, my voice bounces back to me, and I’m scared to know what that means. No one might be able to hear me from the inside. 

I squirm, and the coffin shakes. I scream and scream until my vision turns dark. 

And… Nothing.

—

I breathed harshly as I bent over my knees and clutched my stomach. It was real after all. I wasn’t paranoid. I was being taken for tests that Grace hadn’t ordered. Eleanor was one of the Eridians who wanted me dead.

They threw me in a cold coffin to send me to sleep so they could dismember all parts of my body and throw me away. 

Fuck. 

My stomach cramped up, and my head filled with static as I felt bile rise in my throat. I vomited all over the ground, the bile mixing with the slowly warming blood from the submarine. I didn’t have it in me to even feel disgusted because, one, this wasn’t real, and two, I had been here for God knows how long.

“What—why…. Fuck.” My breaths hitched as I let out a shaky sob, pressing my knuckle to my lips as the submarine shuddered. “Do you see now? Do you see how terrible these creatures are? Let me take the reins; let me show them what we truly are!” The monster shrieked as I dropped my head between my knees and breathed out.

“No,” I said.

The monster let out an angry shriek. 

“Are you an idiot?! You will kill us all! You took us with you, and now you’re sending both of us to our death!” The monster shrieked angrily, and the submarine shook.

“Shut the fuck up and let me think!” I screamed back at it as the monster shrieked louder than before, angrier than ever, and possibly even more irritated.

Well, join the fucking club then! 

“You trust so blindly it’s almost disgusting. You have not learned anything, Simon! Your heart is our downfall,” the monster said angrily. I could feel its anger through the speakers as it glitched, voices doubling. It wasn’t just Grace’s anymore. I could hear Ava’s voice, Rocky’s voice box, Chia’s, and even my own voice.

“Yeah? Well, that’s me being human! You don’t know that, do you? Because you aren’t one! You’re just pretending to be one!” I grumbled, kicking the wall. I stood up; I could no longer feel my feet as I kicked the wall repeatedly, shaking the whole submarine as the monster shrieked at me angrily.

The submarine moved, and I suddenly found myself on my back, my head pounding as I groaned. I punched the ground as I watched blood enter from the hole, making a plop, plop, plop noise because of its jelly-like substance. It disgusted me a little, and I kind of regretted opening a hole in the sub now.

I used my knuckles to push myself up, shaking; my body felt stiff now. 

It wouldn’t be long before I’d be dead, cold, and then they’d rip me apart in every direction, and Grace wouldn’t know what happened and would think I just left. 

How does that even work? Who would believe that bullshit? The Earth dome is small, and I have nowhere to go. Grace isn’t stupid at all; Rocky isn’t either. He has access outside the dome, which means he would know if I decided to become suicidal and let their ammonia air turn me into goop. 

Would their air even be able to kill me? 

It’s obvious Katie tried a lot of ways to kill me and instead just decided that the cold is better than nothing. That means I could actually survive in their atmosphere. I’m starting to believe that’s what scared them. 

I was a big anomaly for their world, and many of them are scrambling to right the wrong. They probably regretted taking me down here instead of leaving me in space in my frozen coma, huh? 

“Fucking… Fuck!” I punched the ground again and again, not caring that my knuckles were starting to split. 

It’s not like I’m in the real world anyway. Whatever this is, it’s a dream and something else. Maybe limbo—something in between. 

“This is your fault, Simon,” the voice said.

“Shut the fuck up, will you? You’re pissing me off. We’re both in this mess whether you like it or not. This is your fault. If you hadn’t decided to eat me for lunch, then you wouldn’t be here!” I screamed at the hole in the sub as the voice went quiet.

“This is your fault, Simon. You are selfish; you want and want and want, and the moment you get it, you get angry because it’s taken away from you. Why? It’s because you don’t deserve it.” The voice said as I bit my tongue, closing my eyes as I took a very deep breath, clenching my fist.

“Just earlier, you were pleading me to save you. Now you’re on my ass. What do you really want? To live or to die with me? Come on!” I shouted. 

The voice fell quiet again. 

“Live,” it said.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes and shaking my head. “Then you’re just like me,” I said gravely as I crawled towards the wall where the hole was and sat down. More jelly-like blood entered again as I heard the monster twitch and move, still stuck on whatever it was. 

Months ago, I would have been terrified being beside the monster that turned me into this. But Grace has done so much for me that I wouldn’t call healing, but nurturing, that I feel like I can stand still on a wave that is stronger than I am.

That wave being my trauma itself.

I’m still scared, but I guess I’m more afraid of what’s to come. And Grace won’t know a single thing about what’s going to happen; he’ll be living with the same Eridians who did this to me without knowing. It’s an injustice. I hate it; it’s not fair.

“What now?” I ask.

“We die,” the voice says, echoing Grace’s voice. My eyes burn at the thought of him… I should have at least given him a better goodbye and a hug—he loves having those.

I curl my knees up to my chest and let tears fall, sniffing slightly. I should have listened to my gut feeling. But when Grace visited, I felt marginally better, as if nothing was going to happen to me anymore. It lowered my guard.

It’s my own fault, really. I’ve been used to my belly being kept full and my body warm, and now I’m like a dog that rolls on its back when shown a treat. 

Fuck. I knock my forehead on my knees angrily.

“Are we really just going to die?” I ask again.

The voice doesn’t answer. I have an inkling that it’s mad at me for letting this happen. Well, fuck the monster; I’m mad at it too for turning me into this fucking amalgamation of a monster. If it hadn’t decided to kill me, I wouldn't have turned into this.

“When we get out of here—and we do not know when, but we do not care—we will rain death and tragedy on those lower life forms. We will make them regret it.” The submarine shakes as the voice trembles in anger, shrieking loudly, and I shake my head.

“That won’t happen. Eridians are smart; they’ll find a way to put us into a coma forever. They live longer too,” I say softly.

The voice growls in anger while I sigh, burying my hands in my hair.

What now?

—

“How do I wake up?” I ask after a few hours of sitting. My body feels cold all over now. I’ve moved beside the pipes, making a small hole to let the steam hit my skin; it's hot, and it warms me up a little. It’s possible the monster is close by the submarine because it’s emanating warmth from within; now it’s stuck here with me.  

“We do not know,” the voice says. “It’s you who should know; it’s your body now. You took us with you.” It says again, its voice now relatively calmer. Earlier, it was screaming about revenge and vengeance, and I got tired of listening to it, so I screamed at it to shut the fuck up.  

And somehow, it did.  

I guess it's realizing that we’re both going to die anyway, and staying silent might make it better.  

We both hate each other, yet somehow we’re stuck together. How fitting.  

I sigh, running a hand over my face as I sit there curled up, trying to keep myself as warm as possible. “This isn’t going to work,” I say. “Sitting around, doing nothing? Can’t we do anything? We’re both dying anyway; why can’t we at least try to find a solution?” I ask.  

I stare at the hole, now filled with jelly-like blood. I can’t see its white, slimy skin anymore; it must have moved back or above the submarine because there is a dent on the front hull.  

It’s much hotter in that area, but I moved against the pipes because they’re currently letting out steam that I need. The oxygen levels are getting lower, as the automated voice of the sub told me.  

Not only am I going to die out of my body, I’m dying here too.  

What the ever-living hell is my life, honestly?  

“There is nothing we can do,” the voice says as I scoff. “Earlier, you wanted to kill them; now you’ve given up. Make up your mind,” I reply.  

The voice doesn’t respond.  

We both fall silent again.  

“Are there any more of you around here?” I ask.  

“Yes. There are more of us. You are one of us too. You brought us with you,” the voice whispers as I try not to shiver, closing my eyes as I breathe through my nose shakily.  

Breathe in. Breathe out.  

It’s okay.  

“Where are they right now?” I open my eyes again to ask.  

“Somewhere. Not here. Far away. They’re also dying too. With us, like us,” the voice says, and I bite my lip.  

I feel conflicted now… I want them to die, actually—all of them—but with them, I die too. And I want to live… I was promised to live, to see the ocean again, my house. Maybe Grabby can get repaired by Rocky, and I can say sorry to Grabby.  

I place a knuckle over my forehead as I try to breathe.  

I just want to live.  

Is that so bad?  

Yet everyone wants me dead.  

Maybe Erid isn’t so different from my world after all… maybe—  

I breathe out, shaky and trembling as I hold onto myself. I want to go back; I’m selfish, I know. But I want to go back. To Grace.  

The oxygen bar beeps again, and now I’m left with a single bar of oxygen. I’ll die soon.  

I’m going to die!

For days, I’ve thought about nothing but death—death, and my imminent death. I would expect the one to kill me would at least be Grace, or at least he’ll be there to administer something painless for me to die on.  

But I know, in his kind heart, he would never do such a thing. Instead, he’ll try to find a way around this. But in those lonely hours of being on my own in the room, I’ve debated and thought about the death that might actually be served toward me, and I don’t think I’ve felt as terrified as I am right now.  

I’ll die soon.  

I need to accept that because it’s obvious there is no path around this. I’m done. This is the end. It was nice while it lasted, I guess.  

So yeah, I guess I’m dying.  

I haven’t said sorry to Rocky yet, really.  

God…  

I’m definitely dying…  

Dying…  

Wait… dying.  

I have a stupid idea now... and frankly, I’ll take a stupid idea over no idea at all.

I raise my head as I turn towards the wall where I can see there is only a single bar of Oxygen. It's running low, now depleting faster because of the pipe spewing out steam to warm me and the whole submarine. 

“Kill me,” I said, almost a whisper as I realized something. 

“What did you say?” the voice asks, tired. For once, I can feel the same thing. “You have to kill me to wake me up. That’s the only way to jumpstart my actual body. I’ll try to get out before I fall back asleep.” I stand up as the submarine shudders. I can hear and feel the monster moving around. 

It was quiet for a moment. 

“We will not die?” the voice questions. 

“Hopefully,” I replied. 

I spread my arms. “Do it. Bite onto the submarine, eat me whole. God! Just kill me!” I shout. 

The monster didn’t waste a single second after that; the whole submarine creaked, and in a flash of a bang, my world turned dark. The only thing I remember is the hull giving in and long, sharp teeth piercing through, followed by darkness.

—

I wake up to cold, and cold, and cold, with a scream lodged in my throat as I squirm and struggle. 

My body is stiff—stiff like a dead body should feel—as I writhe. It’s dark, and I can’t see a single thing, but I can feel the binds around my body and the needle in my skin, still injecting whatever liquid they made to force me into sleep. 

In a burst of strength, I pull my left arm, and the bind gives, sending my wrist smashing against the hard ceiling above. I wince and let out a muffled yell, biting my lip before reaching for my other wrist, but the chest bind stops me. 

I focus on that first, tugging at it. It’s not metal or xenonite; it’s fabric—a really thick one, just like the one in my bed, but this one is thicker than the first. I dig my nails into it, and in one swipe, I slash through it easily as I gasp for air. 

I didn’t even realize the bind was tight enough that I couldn’t breathe properly; it’s probably why I feel like the coffin is getting smaller and smaller, and why my body feels heavier and heavier. 

I grit my teeth, biting my tongue as I break through the bind on my right wrist. Then I start pulling out the IV lines easily, feeling liquid spill at my sides as I gasp in pain, squeezing my eyes shut and grunting. My legs and feet are still bound, but I need to sit up to reach them. 

That means I have to open the lid first. 

I brace my palm against it and push. 

It doesn't move. 

I drop my arms to my side with a loud thump. Well— 

I shout again and push—the lid shudders and moves, and I slide my hand sideways, lifting the lid and pushing it slowly. It’s like climbing a high mountain; I have to take my time because the lid could fall on me and I won’t have enough space to bear it up. 

My elbows are locked on the ground beneath me as the lid finally shudders and falls to the side, the ground shaking from how hard and heavy it is. 

It knocks a few monitors and tables aside as I push myself up to sit, groaning as I rub my hands around my body. My skin is cold. 

So damn cold— 

I slash through my bindings and jump out of the coffin—well, I try to. 

My legs aren’t responding well, so it’s more like I’m crawling out. The coffin is propped on a tall table, and I tumble into a heap of ice-cold bones on the floor, grunting and shivering, my teeth chattering. 

Come on, move, move, move. I mumble under my breath as I push myself up. For a moment, it takes me a while to stand, but my body finally realizes I need my knees to work, and the feeling comes back as I push myself to my knees and look around. 

The room isn’t large; it’s cluttered. I don’t think I’ve seen this room before, or maybe I have and just haven’t been lucid enough to notice it’s the same room. 

There’s a door and a control panel on the side; it has no knob. 

I stand and stumble towards it. 

I fall against the door and try to pry it open with my hands, pulling and tugging on the seam at the side where I can insert a sliver of my finger, grunting as I tug. It doesn’t give. 

“Fuck!” I punch the door again and again, hoping the thumping will grab someone’s attention. Maybe a passing Eridian or Grace—who knows!? 

“Come on. Please just open,” I mumble, my voice shaking as I pull again. I turn towards the control panel and examine it; there aren’t any symbols or keypads to press on—just one button. 

I press it. 

The panel beeps, and I freeze, looking at the door, expecting it to open right away, but it doesn’t. 

I press the button again, and it only beeps. I turn back to the door and punch it, banging my fist against it until my vision tilts and I hit the wall, everything spinning as I feel the world slowing. 

I’m falling back asleep. I slump against the wall, slowly sliding down. 

Oh no. 

My eyes flutter. 

“Stand up, Simon. Stand up or we will die!” 

My eyes open again. “Yup,” I wheeze out, flipping around to my knees. 

I grunt, my ears ringing as I squirm, wiggle, and try to push myself up to my feet, using my hands for support. Up. Up. Up. Up. 

“Let us take the reins; we’ll make sure you are safe.” 

I swallow bile as I press my forehead against the control panel, pressing the button again as it beeps. “No. No. No,” I mutter, breathing harshly. I look at the panel once more and note the speaker. 

It’s voice-activated. 

“The door’s voice-activated. We can’t get out,” I mutter, my voice shaking. I fall silent for a moment, trying to catch my breath as my body feels more numb, and no amount of movement can warm it up. It hurts; it hurts greatly, and I want to break something in anger because it hurts. 

I know the anger isn’t me. I know it by now; it’s the monster within me (as strange as that may sound). “I can’t get out,” I say.

“Help! Help! I’m stuck here! Someone! Anyone!” I scream at the door, banging my fist against it again.

“We know how to get out.”

I pause, breathing out shakily. “How?” I ask as I move back to the panel, breathing heavily while I look at the button. The voice doesn’t respond, and for a moment, I wait for it to tell me what to do.

As much as I hate its fucking existence, I also need to get out and survive. “What! How?! Tell me!” I scream again.

Suddenly, I feel like vomiting. I lean over the panel, my mouth opening as I gag. My hand drops onto the button, holding it there as it beeps, my ears ringing from the sound. I expected vomit to come up, but instead, it was noises. Not normal noises like the gagging sound of my constricting throat, but notes. 

Like an Eridian. Like Katie’s voice—her actual voice when she whistles and chirps in her language.

“♫♫♪♩♩♫♪♩” Notes escape my mouth as the control panel turns green. “Access Accepted,” the voice says from the speaker as I choke, coughing and feeling like copper rises from my throat. The door whooshes open. I gasp.

“You're welcome.”

I stumble out of the room, shaking and breathing hard. What just happened? That came out of my mouth? How did that happen? I can speak Eridian? When? How?

I don’t have time to think about what just happened. The hallway is bathed in orange. Why is it bathed in that color? The lights above flicker between black and orange, and there’s a blaring sound all around.

My head pounds because of it. 

What is going on?

“They are trying to search for you. They believe you left.”

My ears ring as I hear the voice again. I place a palm over my ear and walk down the hallway, one hand against the wall as I try to search for the elevator. It’s hard because the lights are flashing too many colors, piercing through my eyes. It hurts; it gives me a pounding headache. 

My body feels colder than ever, and I’m on the verge of giving up.

I want to lay down and sleep. I use the wall to prop myself up as I walk at a crawl pace, trying to search for an elevator. 

An elevator.

I almost jump with happiness when I see one. 

I pause when the button doesn’t light up as it should—

Fuck. “Fuck!” I scream, slapping my head, then punching the fucking wall in anger. The lab is on shutdown, isn’t it? That’s why the whole hallway is dark, the lights are flickering, and there’s a blaring noise from the speakers above. 

They think I got out, and the lab is in shutdown.

Ugh, the voice isn’t helping me. This isn’t working.

Where should I— 

My brain feels slow and mushy. I can’t think! I can’t fucking think! It’s cold, and I can’t breathe properly. My body feels like it’s failing.

My own brain is failing me.

“I can’t… I can’t,” I pant, looking around. How do I get down? How do I—

Stairs.

Stairs! 

I can use the stairs; I just need to find someone to take me to Grace, tell Grace about what happened, and my proof is the fact I’m so doped up right now with whatever they’re using to kill me—

I walk some more, finally finding the door to the stairs.

“Yes… yes!” I almost cry as I let go of the wall and hobble toward it quickly. My left leg feels stiff; I’m basically dragging it now.

As I reach for the door, a massive blur hits me at the side, sending me screaming and falling as a large weight crushes me from above. I scream because I think I just broke a rib and my leg as I turn to my side, holding my leg with one hand and my chest with the other.

Rib broken—I feel something pierce me… I cough, blood spilling from my lips.

That’s fast…

There is a chirp beside me, and I turn my head to see Eleanor standing over me, grabbing my ankle and pulling me. “No… No… NO!” I slur, growling as I kick Eleanor, who doesn’t let me go, dragging me back toward where I came from, screaming and yelling.

“No!” I scream again, and my chest caves in as I move, biting down a scream when Eleanor tugs on my broken leg harshly, still dragging me. I turn my body, using my other leg, and kick Eleanor with all my might.

Her hold on my ankle slips, and I flop down.

Eleanor chitters angrily as I stand up, coughing out specks of blood onto the floor as I push myself to my knees and run for it. 

As fast as I can, considering I have a broken leg and probably broken ribs that are definitely piercing a lung and possibly some other organs and intestines inside me as I run toward the stairwell, huffing and puffing.

I barely have any strength left in me. If I could, I would just roll down the stairway and let it carry me to the ground floor. But if I do that, I’d die, and I won’t be able to heal at all. Eleanor can just take me back to the coffin and hide me there until everyone stops searching for me.

I feel a tug on the back of my shirt, and suddenly I'm pulled back, falling to the ground as I let out a scream of pain. I’ve jostled something, and I’ve definitely broken something again. I look up at Eleanor, who lets out an angry note or two as she brings a claw down my neck and squeezes.

I gasp, twitching as I grab her arm, trying to push her, twisting it. But Eridians are strong on their own, and Eleanor is already large enough to beat me and Grace at the same time. 

There's a reason why she’s a guard. She’s thick horizontally and vertically, and her claws are larger than normal; all five of her legs are longer too, making her taller than the rest, even taller than Joe.

“No—stop… please—please. Let me live.” I cough, squeezing my eyes shut as I kick weakly. Then she steps over me, straddling my chest. My eyes widen. 

She sits down—not just a light sit where she’s still bearing her weight on her legs. No, she sits her 500, most definitely 700-pound body on my chest, where there are broken ribs already piercing something important, and I hear a crack. The world flashes into a black void of pain.

There is screaming, whining, and some sound I don’t know. I almost want to curse and scream at Eleanor for making that sound because why is she the one making pain sound when she literally sat on me— Wait… That isn’t Eleanor. 

It’s me. I’m screaming and crying.

“Let me handle this, Simon. Let me save us!” No. No. I can handle this! I can—

The world is a blinding pain; it flashes so many colors: red, white, orange, and black. My ears ring, and I feel like I’m actually dying. Eleanor is choking me, putting all her weight on my chest, and I can’t breathe. I can’t—

She doesn’t even have to choke me because her full weight on my chest is already killing me. I’m being killed through suffocation. And it’s not even all at once. 

It’s slow. It’s a slow and painful and agonizing death…

My mouth is full of copper as I feel liquid leave between my lips. “Weak… Always so weak! So weak! Weak! This is why your mother died, Simon. You are weak!” My vision turns black… and it stays black…

Am I dead? Am I—

“♫♫♫♪♩♩♫♪” I hear music. It sounds like Eleanor, but I can’t understand her “♪♪♪♩♩♫.” My eyes open again, and I see Eleanor under me, one of her arms limp as if it’s broken, silver liquid coming out of it. Blood leaves my lips, and I can feel my teeth sharpening, my canines breaking and elongating, copper building up under my tongue as I stand over her. 

For a moment, I’m filled with pain, tiredness, and cold. But most of all, a blinding, seething anger at this creature. I want to kill her, and I’m so inexplicably mad at her that I want to rip her to shreds. 

Not a fast death. No. But a slow, painful death where she burns in my atmosphere, and I get to watch her burn from the inside. My hands grip her suit, nails ready to slash into the xenonite suit, and I hear her cry, pausing for a moment as I stare down at her as she shivers and trembles.

I pant, blood dripping down onto her suit, spilling there as I stare down at her—for a glaring moment, I can see my reflection through her suit. Eyes burning and teeth bared—I look like a damn monster, that’s what. 

“What am I doing?” I whisper, letting out a shaky breath as I fall down, kneeling beside her. I still have a hand on her body, keeping her down, but I sit there, tired, shaking, and full of pain. 

The cold is still spreading, and whatever they gave me is still working. 

The anger isn’t mine. It’s the monster’s—a need to hurt and pillage lifeforms. It always wants to consume and take; it has this strange urge to take and consume things that beat and move. 

I’m not angry at Eleanor; I am terrified of her. “I can’t do it,” I sob, more out of fear than pain, really. Because what am I doing here? What am I here for, really? What’s the point anymore? I’m in too much pain; they might as well put me back to sleep because it’s so hard to breathe anymore.

“You’re just following orders,” I whisper as I fall beside Eleanor, whimpering in pain as I finally let her go and squirm in agony, groaning and grunting. Whatever she did to me has broken more of my ribs, and my back feels sticky. It’s hard to breathe—and it’s not panic; it’s probably the fact that my lungs are collapsing. I can’t heal because I’m too cold.

I breathe out as I watch Eleanor move and twitch, slowly rising to her feet as I breathe out shakily, watching her. 

The stairs are just right by my feet… I just need… I can’t… I can’t… I sob, trying to stand up, pushing myself, but I can’t anymore.

Eleanor stands still for a moment; one of her arms is not touching the ground. She’s probably in pain from me breaking it.  

Another whimper escapes my lips. Eleanor is hurt—she could easily turn this around for herself, and they would believe her that I attacked her and she just fought back. Maybe everyone’s going to be on Katie’s side for killing me.  

Fuck.  

I sob, pretty pathetically, as I look up at Eleanor, glaring at her as blood spills from my mouth. “I hope you're happy that you’re killing someone who just wants to live,” I whisper to her.  

And everything turns dark.  

I just let go.  

Easy as that.  

“Fool… Fool! You are an idiot! A bumbling idiot! You just ruined our chance to live!”  

Yeah, yeah, whatever. Fuck that. Why should I try anymore if everyone wants me to die? I don’t care anymore. Fuck them.  

…  

…  

Grace…  

Rocky…  

Adrian…  

I don’t think I’ve even met Adrian and Rocky’s kids… Sucks… it would have been nice to see what they look like. I’ve always wondered how baby Eridians look, most of all what would their kids look, would they be cute? Or maybe annoying? Like their parents?  

My eyes open a little, barely even; my vision is so spotty I don’t know what I’m looking at anymore.  

Eleanor is crouching beside me.  

Suddenly, a blinding pain turns everything white, and in a flash, the ceiling is moving. I can see the bottom of the stairs above me as someone carries me down the stairwell.  

What’s going on…  

How am I—? 

I turn my head weakly to see Eleanor running down the stairs. She’s holding me above her body, one claw keeping me steady as she runs down. 

She’s letting out many noises, too many notes to even comprehend what she sounds like; it almost resembles panting or the barking of a dog.  

What’s happening…?  

The world turns black once more, and this time I accept it with open arms.

Chapter Text

There is a flash of red and orange, along with someone shrieking—a full sound of notes that seems like the piano keys are being mashed together.

Someone is carrying me with hard hands that feel almost like claws. 

It hurts, but I feel like whoever is carrying me is helping me. 

I have no idea why.

I have no idea why they would help a monster like me.

“You will never be happy, Simon. You will stay as a fearful and cowardly boy.”

—

“Hand movement detected.” 

I hear a voice as I let out a weak whimper; my body feels like I just got slapped around, shot at, and stabbed. Everything that could have gone wrong apparently happened to me. I feel like I’m one big bruise, and I don’t know what to make of it.

“Simon?” I hear a hushed voice—Grace. 

My eyes snap open at that, and I stare up at Grace—well, I stare above—he's… flying? What the hell…

“Why are you flying?” I ask, my voice sounding hoarse as Grace’s worried face breaks into a small smile. 

“We’re in zero gravity right now. How are you feeling?” Grace asks, and I feel him moving something. I hear buckles, and I look down to see that I’m tied down to the bed. Above me is a machine that looks like Armando. 

“That’s Armando’s sister. Meet Armanda,” Grace says, and I can’t help but snort as he unbuckles me. Suddenly, I feel like I’m free falling. 

I let out a small noise of alarm as Grace holds me. “Sorry, it’ll take a while to get used to,” he says as I hold onto him.

My head spins, but it isn’t so bad. A few minutes pass as we both just float there in silence, Grace leading me if I start to float away. For a moment, I spin around. “Where are we?” I ask first. 

“We’re in the Hail Mary right now, orbiting Erid,” Grace says, and I nod. “Why?” I ask again. 

Grace looks at me. “Everyone believes it’s safer for you to stay up here while they find the Eridians who…” He pauses. “Did you know you’ve been placed onto unsanctioned tests?” he asks as I blink.

For a moment, I float there, breathing. 

Yeah… I mean—well no. I didn’t know it was real at first. “I have these moments where I would wake up and see what they were doing to me. But I thought it wasn’t real, because the next time I wake up, I’m back in bed, and nothing seems wrong. I asked Grabby if someone entered back then, and there was no one.” I say slowly; I don’t know if what I’m saying is right, and I feel somehow terrified to tell it to Grace. 

I look at Grace, and I see his brows furrowed, and he looks… angry. 

“What else?” Grace asks. 

“Sometimes I feel it,” I add. Grace’s face pales as he breathes out, placing a shaking hand on his face. I float close to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s real, huh?” I say as Grace lowers his hand to look at me. 

“It’s very real, Si,” he says. 

“A lot’s been happening in the three days you’ve been asleep,” Grace says. “But first…” He pauses. “Do you want to take a look around the Mary?” he asks. 

He’s trying to distract me, and somehow, I appreciate that. I want to hear more about whether I’m going to be sent away because of what happened, or if I’m going to live. But I nod anyway. 

Grace shows me around. Where we stood—floated—was apparently the dormitory. He shows me the lab; it was a large, nice space. Next was the pilot cockpit with multiple screens, and he showed me the “don’t go crazy” room— or, in short, the mental health room, which has multiple screens surrounding you where you can play anything you want to watch. 

The ship is big; it was clearly designed to keep the crew safe and comfortable. 

While I know Grace and his team were sent to die, it didn’t look like the ship mirrored that. Care was clearly put into making this place. 

“It’s nice here,” I whisper, staring at the small window in the pilot cockpit. Grace is seated in the pilot seat, buckled in, as I hold onto the round window, staring up at the vast void where I can see stars. 

Stars! Can you believe that? There are stars! They’re real! They really are alive! 

And they’re so beautiful. So… so, beautiful.

Mom would have loved to see all of this. 

“Yeah?” Grace asks. 

“It’s beautiful… stars,” I whisper as I get closer to the window. It’s been a while since I’ve been in space. I was stationed in AT-5 for so long that I forgot how it feels to be in the void of nothingness. 

Except here, there are stars. The brightest star of all. 

I slowly drift back as I watch the window, then turn to Grace. “Tell me what happened. I don’t trust my memories yet, so I need you to tell me what’s going on,” I say finally. 

Grace looks at me, biting his lip for a moment. He fiddles with the buckle of the seat. “Do you want to space walk?” he asks. 

I sigh. “Grace.” 

“Simon, let’s space walk, okay? Please?” Grace whispers as I can’t help but nod.

—

Space walk… as it seems, is literally wearing some suit that Grace calls an EVA suit and floating out of the airlock. It was… terrifying. I don’t think I’ve ever tried this before or even thought about willingly going out into space. Granted, in our world, there are no stars to guide me on where to look.

Now there are.

Grace mostly helped me; he assisted me, and my carabiner is attached to his hip as he led the way. We climbed along the side of Mary. My hands and legs shook, but it didn’t affect the way I climbed alongside Grace’s ship.

I felt like I was in a perpetual fall, but looking at Grace’s back helped me somewhat, and we both ended up sitting on a flat part of the ship where there wasn’t anything attached to it. The suit is clunky, and Grace stuck some kind of darkening film on my helmet to dim the light that was flashing in my face because it was so bright outside. 

I didn’t think it could be this bright here in space.

I didn’t think there could be light at all in space.

“So, are you ever going to tell me what happened?” I finally asked, my voice muffled by the radio system we used, as Grace looked at me for a moment, his face solemn. 

“I should say sorry first,” he said lowly, his voice crackling over the radio as I stared at him. I hoped he could see how annoyed I was behind the dark film wrapped around my helmet. 

“I should have been there. I was there! I’m literally in the same building as you, but somehow I didn’t know what was happening. I should have!” Grace’s voice was tinged with anger, without any preamble. 

I don’t think I’d ever heard him this angry before.

“I should have done something back then. I mean— you’re literally getting tied down on your own fucking bed,” Grace said.

“Language,” I said, mostly as a joke, as Grace turned to me.

My breath hitched as I stared back at his tear-filled eyes. “Simon, they tried to kill you,” he said, sniffing.

“Who did?” I asked.

Grace blinked the tears away, unable to wipe them off. “Do you remember how the other Eridians see me as more than just a savior?” he asked. 

“Like a god, right?” I replied.

“Yeah, that…” Grace trailed off.

I stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate, not before I realized.

“You have a cult. A cult that’s willing to kill for you,” I said, and Grace winced. He groaned, palming his face—well, his helmet—as he looked away from me. “Don’t say it like that; it’s horrible to hear,” he said.

“What the hell,” I whispered. “Is it because I attacked you? They got angry and thought it was better for me to die?” I asked, feeling a laugh bubbling up inside me, but Grace’s face looked so pitiable in that moment that I couldn’t bring myself to laugh.

“That. And… they’ve been a pain in the butt since the year I came here. At first, it was okay. Rocky and I had small problems with them, and I am a man of science, not religion. But then it started to get weird. Back then, the dome was open for all, and it was mostly my idea. They would often come every day. Then one day they tried to kidnap me—” he said.

“What? They kidnapped you?” I gasped, horror bleeding into my voice, as Grace shrugged, giving me a thin-lipped look that basically said ‘well, yep’ as I gaped at him. 

“Don’t act like that didn’t happen to you as well—but uhm.” Grace cleared his throat, realizing he had just slipped. 

“Anyways,” he added, and I raised an eyebrow. “They believed that I’m one of them, but in a body that’s meant to be broken, and I will arise once again if I’m taken out of the biodome and onto Erid’s atmosphere. They almost tried to kill me by burning me and bringing me to ammonia. It was not… the greatest part of my life. I got a bit paranoid after that, and it was hard to leave my house. Rocky and Adrian had to move to houses close to the dome, and guards had to be stationed all around to watch over me and make sure nothing like that happens again.” Grace fiddled with his hands, swinging his legs as I watched him. 

“Wow,” I said as Grace fell silent. I mouthed a small ‘I’m sorry’ under my breath, but I know well Grace wouldn’t want to hear that. He’s telling a story, not fishing sympathies.

“Yeah, wow… anyways—when you came in, they were incredibly suspicious. And then the reveal that you came from another world made them even more suspicious. They sent their own scientist, taking on a fake identity here without anyone noticing and did a background check on you. Especially your sub, they found something there. A black box of some sort. We had it quarantined because it was filled with blood and submerged in it, but they fiddled with it, the files were corrupted, and they were able to decrypt it and find the files and voice messages left there,” Grace explained.

I felt my blood run cold. “So you know about the—the scientist and the convicts who died in the submarine before me then? And the pictures taken by me…” I said slowly.

Grace looks down at his hands. “I didn’t want to bother with it at first—It wasn’t my place to look into it; I wanted you to be the one to tell me. But after what happened to you days ago, I had no choice but to go through everything to find out what their reasons are. And I saw… and heard everything, Simon…” Grace says.

I exhale sharply as I try to move away, but I forget I’m tethered to Grace and fall back with a choked noise, knocking against him. He yelps as he catches me. 

I breathe hard, shaking as Grace helps me down to sit again. “Did it change something?” I ask after a few breaths. 

Grace is quiet. “No. I’ve always known you were something else, Simon,” he says. “Did you make a mistake in thinking about what kind of person I am?” I ask, refusing to look at him. 

“You’ve always been a good person, Simon. Nothing has changed. I just wish you would go easy on yourself,” Grace says. 

I try not to tear up at that as I shut my eyes and duck my head. Later, we both watch Erid, and I can’t help but think that Erid is beautiful out here in space. The stars are nice, and I love them so much. But seeing a planet feels marginally larger than the stars. 

Every star seems so far away, but there is Erid. It feels like if I stretch my hand towards it, I can reach it. I wonder how Earth would look from here.

—

“How long will I stay here?” I watch Grace shuffle some clothes out, so many shirts and pants floating away, and I can hear Grace huff angrily as he grabs them all and buckles them back in their storage. He throws a sweater and some pants to me, and I float over to catch them in my hands.

“Until we find everyone who’s on it, basically. We have to make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Grace says. 

“Does that mean if you do, I get to go back? Am I free, or am I going back to that room?” I ask.

Grace turns to me. “Simon, you’ve always been free, you know that,” he says, his brows furrowing.

I blink as I rub the sweater between my fingers. “It’s hard to believe that after weeks of being stuck in that room, Grace,” I murmur.

I watch Grace make a thin-lipped expression at me. “I’ve fought for you to be let go freely. The Eridians who took you spread the word on what you did, what you are, and the fact that you can survive their atmosphere,” Grace says, and I shiver.

“Everyone knows?” I whisper.

“Everyone… But I know for sure they still see you for who you really are, Simon,” Grace says as he moves toward me and lightly points at my chest. I let out a bitter snort. “That’s just you, Grace,” I say. “You know. Eridians don’t have eyes to see, but they hear and feel what kind of person you are. You’re not a bad person, Simon. You’ve never been. You only see what those cultists saw in you, not the others,” Grace says.

“Well, they’re very convincing,” I can’t help but squint at Grace, who just sighs. “You’re a free man, Simon; you always have been. They wanted to make the Eridian elders think you planned to take over Erid by using the black box against you. It didn’t work because someone testified against them,” Grace says.

I pause at that, blinking as I look at Grace. Someone stepped up for me?

“Wait, someone testified?” I ask.

“Do you remember what happened before you passed out?” Grace asks. I blink, slowly shaking my head. I remember cold and pain; that’s mostly it and the voice shrieking at me for being stupid.

Well, excuse you; sometimes being stupid is needed for balance.

“Eleanor is part of the cult. She testified for you. Granted, the cult has always been a problem, even for the Eridian elders. They may be old as heck, but one thing we agree on is how fudging crazy the cultists are. Eleanor just played a big part in making the process easier,” Grace says.

Oh…

“That’s interesting,” I say in strange fascination. I kind of remember what happened between us, amidst the flashing lights of orange or red and the pain of having my bones broken by Eleanor's weight.

We both go quiet, and I eventually zip down my jumpsuit to my waist and slip on the sweater. I don’t change the pants mostly out of laziness because I don’t think I can slip my legs over it while floating around in space, and I don’t want to try or even ask for help or tips on how to.

“You hungry? We’re pretty much stocked here with blood, and it's been three days since you ate. We wanted to tube you, but we’re worried about how you would react, especially since Hail Mary wouldn’t be prepared in case you reacted badly,” Grace explains as I hum, just floating behind him with my arms crossed.

“Why did Eleanor testify? What made her change her mind?” I ask as I watch Grace shuffle on top of a storage box, unbuckling it to show a box full of blood bags.

I try not to think about the fact that my mouth is salivating right now.

I’m perfectly healed right now; I have an inkling they probably did tube me with blood before I was sent here to Grace’s ship.

“We don’t know. Right now she’s just pointing at every member of the group. It’s good. But we have to make sure we do a full sweep; we can’t let something like this happen again. It already happened once, and now it’s happened twice. If it happens a third time, I’ll make sure to rain hellfire,” Grace says as he grabs a single blood bag, buckling the box and turning to me.

“Lunch?” Grace smiles at me, offering the bag.

I look at it and take it from his hands. 

“Thank you,” I murmur.

We both sit on the beds. I tie the buckle on my legs while I watch Grace spin around above me, arms crossed, thinking deeply before he focuses back on me and watches as I bring the blood bag to my mouth.

I calm down immensely, feeling strangely embarrassed to be seen eating.

It’s fine when Chia is around to watch me eat (and I know for a fact that Eridians see eating as something much more private, but somehow Chia stayed for me). This is the first time Grace is seeing me feed that doesn’t involve me biting into his arm and turning him into some kind of pincushion. 

I glance at his arm, covered by the sleeve of his red jumpsuit, wondering if it’s still marked or if it has finally scarred. 

“Are you going to watch me eat?” I ask slowly. Grace seems to snap out of his staring as his face turns red. “I—uh, can I? I mean… for science?” Grace smiles nervously and moves closer to me. 

I give him a squinty look. For science? I thought he already had enough from the tests with Rocky and Adrian (which were allowed and humane). 

“Really? It’s not a good sight,” I say, and Grace nods. “Yeah, yeah, I’m a man of science… I’m not easily disturbed, trust me,” he replies as I eye him before opening my mouth, and blood floods my mouth as my gums bleed when my canines elongate. 

I see Grace’s eyes widen behind his glasses, and his face turns pale at the amount of blood spilling from my mouth due to the purposeful bleeding to expose my canines. 

“It extends on its own?” Grace whispers to himself, surprised, as I bite into the blood bag and watch him lean in more, intrigued, while I sip the blood through the hole, letting out a small, relieved sigh. 

I’ve been trying my best to ignore the hunger slowly building in my stomach as I drink it all in under five minutes. My teeth retract back to their normal length. “Can you control it when it happens?” Grace asks as I look over at him. He has a small notebook in his hands and is writing something in it as I blink at him. 

“Why do you need to write things down?” I ask. 

Grace turns red and slams the notebook shut. “No other reason… Research,” he says, clamming up as I give him a scrutinizing look. 

Oooookay…

—

Another three days pass in the Mary. Grace and I do nothing but watch movies on his laptop and stay in the "don’t go crazy" room, where Grace would show me the stars on Earth and would tell me the names of each one. It’s really beautiful. I think I’ve spent more time sitting here in this room than in the dormitory where both of us would sleep.

Eventually, Grace had to pull the centrifuge on Mary so we could move around properly. It was nice to be able to walk on my feet again. Aside from the "don’t go crazy" room, I check the pilot cockpit from time to time. Usually, I’d stay in the lab and look out the window where I could sit down to watch Erid from here. 

We’re really just orbiting, huh?

Grace and I don’t talk much about what happened, not even about what he learned from the black box. I know he knows all of it. He’s definitely heard everything Ava told me, including her death… 

Sometimes, Grace stays on his laptop, wearing his headphones to prevent me from hearing what he's listening to. I’m scared he might have the files there and is actively looking at them. I don’t know… It feels strange for someone not to look at me like I’m dirty, even though he’s seen everything that happened through me without me having any say in when he learned about it.

But at the same time, I’m also relieved I don’t have to be the one to tell Grace. Still, I feel like someone took my ability to choose the right time to tell him what really happened.

“Hey.” I turn toward Grace, who is standing by the lab table, holding his laptop with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. “Hey, did you sleep well?” I ask as Grace watches me, smiling slightly before sitting beside me on the floor.

“Yeah, what are you doing here?” he asks.

“Because everyone wants me dead?” I reply with a small smile. Grace lets out an exasperated scoff, rolling his eyes.

“I mean, why are you in the lab?” he grumbles, and I just give him a small grin and shrug.

I don’t really know. I don’t feel like moving from where I sat. Grace fell asleep on the table earlier, and I wrapped him in his favorite blanket and sat in the corner of the lab, just thinking.

Thinking about my world.

Grace’s.

About what’s happened and what I should do from now on. If they let me back, should I stay? Or should I go? If they don’t let me back, will they kill me because I’m a threat?

And if so, what do I do? Run and hide? Or just accept it?

It’s a confusing decision. I want to stay because of Grace, Rocky, and Adrian. But do the others want me to stay?

It brings horror and ice under my skin and into my blood, and it brings me back inside the coffin where I could have died if I hadn’t woken up. As much as I hate that damned alien, it helped me.

But at the same time, I’m angry at it because it’s the whole reason everything is happening. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth that I got help from it.

If not, I probably would have died.

I wonder what Grace thinks about the monster.

“Following the Eridian culture of being weird and watching people sleep,” I say, and Grace snorts at my blank-eyed stare and bored tone, his shoulders shaking as he pulls his blanket close to his neck, letting out a small hum. His glasses are crooked, and I’m a bit annoyed that he’s still not fixing them.

“Fix your glasses, Grace,” I say, and he just smirks at me. He shuffles a bit where he sits and brings out my glasses. 

“I got yours, by the way—I've been holding onto it for a while since I woke up. I was thinking of giving it back to you, but your room was plenty dimmed down without making it dark, so I thought I’d just hold onto it until you got out,” Grace says as I take them from his hand.

I slip them on. “Thanks for holding onto it. I think I forgot it existed,” I say.

“It’s like that for a few years. I lost my glasses a bunch of times the first time I got them,” Grace shrugs, grinning.

“When was that?” I ask.

“When I was 12, Mom found out I had bad eyesight because I thought our neighbor was a standing dog, and every night I’d cry because I thought he’d climb up to my room and maul me.” Grace grins as I snicker at that.

“That’s crazy. Why would you think he was a dog, standing like that?” I ask. Grace shrugs.

“You ask my 12-year-old self, and you’ll understand,” he says, and I burst out into a small chuckle, shaking my head at him.

“Mhm, we won’t get along, I’m telling you.”

“Why? What were you doing when you were 12?” Grace asks. “I wouldn’t have been alive yet when you were twelve, you know,” I remind him, and Grace laughs at that, his shoulders shaking. “Okay, way to shoot down the old guy,” Grace shrugs, nudging me with his shoulder as I scoff and shake my head.

“What did you do?” Grace asks. “When you were 12?”

I bite the sides of my lip, rocking a little, lowering my chin onto my knees for a moment before raising it back to meet Grace’s eyes. 

“I… not much. I was a pretty quiet kid back then… Uhm—I was always hiding behind my mom, never leaving her side and all. I didn’t get along well with other kids; it was always because they were too old, too big for me, or too young or too small. It was always one of those two, never in between.” I shrug. 

Grace hums, fidgeting with his hands. He looks down at his laptop, closing it with a small snap. “Me too. I didn’t like being around anyone much when I was a kid,” he says softly.

“Hey, I guess we’re the same then,” I say, and Grace smiles at that. “I suppose. I guess I feel like every kid I meet feels too much or too little. Almost kind of like you; I don’t fit well with any of them,” Grace shrugs.

“Ryland No Friend Grace,” I tease, and Grace rolls his eyes, scoffing and shaking his head as he places a mocking hand to his chest, miming a hurt sound. “That hurts, you know?” he says.

“You’re what? Forty-something years old? You’re a lonely old man,” I reply, and Grace snickers, shrugging. “It is what it is, unfortunately… but I love my job and my life… it was my job and life,” Grace says softly. He doesn’t sound bitter; in fact, he seems beyond it now.

“Well, I’m here now; I’ve got friends. It’s fun,” Grace shrugs. I just give him a small smile at that. 

We both fall quiet afterward. 

Grace shifts closer, his shoulder knocking against mine lightly, and I move to nudge him back. “Rocky called,” Grace starts, and I startle at that. “When?” I ask.

“Just before I decided to take a nap on the most uncomfortable place in the world instead of going to my bunk,” Grace replies. 

“What did he say?” I ask, nibbling the bottom of my lip.

“You’re free to go back. The Elders believe you’re innocent. Hey! You aren’t even being taken to court,” Grace jokes, grinning from ear to ear. “Not even a Zoom meeting, but imagine that—a Zoom meeting with Eridian elders three times older than us? Jesus.”

I stand, surprising Grace. “I don’t know if we should go down yet,” I say. 

Grace looks up, eyes wide and confused. It’s almost adorable, but I don’t dwell on that thought. “What? Why? Adrian’s done a full sweep of the dome; he’s sure everyone there is trustworthy. I tell you, Adrian’s a scary Eridian if he needs to be,” Grace insists, snapping his fingers as he grunts to stand up, pushing himself off the ground as he picks up his laptop and stands in front of me.

I rub my forefinger and thumb nervously. “No, not that. I don’t care about the cult. I’d fight them if they want to confront me. I—I don’t think I should go down there. I mean… can’t I just stay here?” I ask.

“What? Here? On Mary? Forever? Why?” Grace asks, his brows furrowed.

Why? Let me tell you.

Because while you think you can speak for everyone, not every Eridian in Erid has the same idea as you, Grace. 

Grace is a good person; he really is. He sees too much good and less of the bad. And it’s nice; it’s an ego booster sometimes. But now I realize I can’t just go back down there and pretend all those things didn’t happen. 

I’ve basically ruined my name and my entire being. If you hear Simon, you’ll hear about the accident where I hurt my own kind, the savior of Erid and Earth at that, and made the mistake of allowing an Eridian kid to enter a palace where she shouldn’t have been without making sure she wore her suit in an atmosphere she could die. She burned herself from the inside because of that simple, stupid mistake I made. 

And then a cult gets to me, spreading the word because they got their little grabby claws on the black box (which turns out never really left the submarine, so yeah, I didn’t save anything in my world) and spreading the word about what aliens I encountered there in the blood ocean and how dangerous they are and how dangerous I am compared to them.

I’ve found myself on the list of the crazy life forms coming from a different world. I wonder which number in the list I got. Is it a Top Ten? Am I Top 1 or Top 2?

And then there are Simon “The Butcher” and “The Convict” from my world. Everyone knows that now. If not the whole entirety of Erid. Grace, Rocky, Adrian, Chia—hell, even Grace’s students.

I hope they’re laughing in their little stone chairs, whoever’s in this cult group. I hope they trip and fall down the stairs or lose their ability to echolocate. Because I sure hope that if I see them, they won’t be able to echolocate without their arms and claws—

Whoa, tiger… that’s too much anger; calm down. 

I try to breathe, but it just sounds like I’m huffing and puffing. Turns out Eridians are just like humans, huh? There really isn’t a perfect creature in this world. Give them the ability to decide and think, and they become this kind of asshole. I suppose God was right to take our planets and stars away. 

“I just—I don’t know. I’m not ready to go down yet… just not ready. I think I’ll go down soon, but not today.” I lie through my teeth, and Grace’s brows that were furrowed begin to unfurrow a bit. 

I almost want to tell him I don’t want to go back to Erid anymore because now I feel dirty, and if I step back there, I’m dirtying everything. I’m Simon again from another world—the butcher and the convict who killed 62 people on Filament Station. 

“Okay… it’s fine. I’m staying here with you then,” Grace shrugs. 

“What? Why? I can—I can handle myself here,” I say. 

Grace just gives me a look, and I shut up. 

“How about you sleep, and I watch? Got some work to do,” Grace says, patting my shoulder as he walks past me. I rock on my feet for a moment and nod. 

“What are you up to?” I ask. 

“Nothing much… I guess side projects? I mean—I’m still working on a way to maybe help you be… human again. Not that I don’t think you aren’t, but it must be hard to live like that.” Grace shuffles on his feet, and I watch him. 

I am quiet for a moment. “Yeah… it was… it is—it’s fucking hard,” I shakily say as I lower my head, feeling oddly stupid and exposed. 

Grace moves, and suddenly I’m enveloped in a cascade of blond hair and warmth, his body against mine, holding me and trapping my arms to my sides. “I’m here, Si…” Grace whispers behind my ear as I shiver at his warm breath, trying to nod as I lower my chin onto the crook of his shoulder. 

I wrap my arm around his waist as well, and we stand there, just enjoying the touch of our bodies against each other.

—

I don’t think Grace and I are walking on eggshells around each other, but I have a feeling we slightly are. We don’t talk about what’s happening down there, or what happened days ago, or anything remotely close to anything, honestly. 

We talk about movies, food, and music. Sometimes we talk about our pasts. I always talk about my mother, and Grace talks about the kids he taught and how he wishes he could have been there as they grew up. 

At the same time, he’s glad he made the choice he did because it meant he gave those kids a chance to live with their own family. In a way, Grace gave a chance to people who have families because he never had one.

“Hey, do you think you can drink and get drunk?” Grace greets me as I float up the ladder towards the lab, holding one of his laptops. (I don’t understand why he has so many lying around; I just found this one, and it’s playing Kill Bill, so now I’m watching it as I float around the “don’t go crazy” room, where the screens are set to show the stars in San Francisco, just like how Grace sees the stars from where he lives.) 

“What?” I ask as I stop in front of him, and I see him holding a bag with a white liquid in it, labeled ‘Vodka.’ There are numerous symbols on it which I assume are different languages. “It’s actually one of my, uh… crewmate’s stuff; she has a lot of vodka—and heroin, too—so huzzah! We can get drunk and get really high!” Grace says as he pulls out the tube-like straw from the vodka baggie and takes a sip. 

He makes a face as he pulls his mouth away. “Ooh, I forgot how strong it was; wow!” Grace shakes his head as he hands it to me. I let the laptop float away (it’s a bad idea; I should be buckling important things in zero gravity, as per Grace’s orders). 

“Is it bad?” I ask. 

“Haven’t drunk alcohol yet?” Grace asks, still making a pinched face as I shake my head. 

“We weren’t allowed, but I know what it is. I don’t think I’ve tried it mostly because it doesn’t look that appealing to me,” I say. 

I fiddle with the straw, ignoring the fact that this is the same straw Grace just sipped from. 

“Well? Still! Try it,” Grace says. 

I stare at it and then take a small sip. I cough, choking on the bitter taste as Grace laughs, spinning on his back while I try to breathe and catch my breath. I look at the vodka baggie in disgust. “It tastes like shit!” I throw it at him. 

The baggie spins slowly in the air, and Grace easily catches it with a giggle, his face red as he wipes his eyes. He drinks from it again, this time with gusto, and lets out a moan as I watch him. 

“I miss getting drunk; it’s good. I swear. It’s better if you have snacks around and a movie,” Grace grins, and I just shake my head, heading toward the dormitory. I’m mostly planning to get a blood bag. It’s already past lunchtime, and I’m starving. 

The vodka was awful, and I want to wash it out with blood (I’m getting used to it; it’s been a whole month since I started drinking, after all. I better get used to it and lose hope that I’ll turn back). 

“Oh, come on, Si. It’s not that bad,” Grace follows me, holding the laptop I was carrying and the vodka baggie. He buckles the laptop on my bunk as I unbuckle the box where the blood bags are stored and pull out two, buckling it again. I let the other one float above my head, not wasting any time drinking from the first blood bag, too hungry to care that Grace is right in front of me, watching as I demolish the first bag. 

I hold the empty blood bag and look around for the second one. Then I lower my gaze to see Grace holding it with a strange look on his face. “You know it’s my blood, right?” he asks. 

I blink at him. “Yeah… Chia explained that it was cloned blood from you… And—well, she doesn’t explain how it was done, but I assume it’s the same as the meat,” I say. Grace grins at that, sipping the vodka as he juggles the blood bag in his hand. 

“The me-burgers,” Grace jokes. 

He throws the blood bag to me, and it spins slowly toward my hand. 

“Me burgers,” I echo. “What will you call this, then?” I ask as Grace hums, sipping a bit more from the vodka baggie. At this point, I’m a bit worried that he’s drinking too much. 

“Nectar,” Grace giggles as I raise a brow at him. “’Cause you know, in Greek mythology, the gods drink this golden-red liquid, which is usually referred to as wine in some books. They say that nectar is eight to nine times sweeter than honey and basically sustains the gods’ immortality.” Grace rambles as I hum. 

“You think I’m a god?” I joke.

“Built like a Greek god—yeees,” Grace slurs as he spins around, and I watch him amusedly. I move back as he drifts toward me, our heads almost colliding, but I catch him before it happens, my palm on his chest as Grace hiccups, face flushed. “Sorry ‘bout that. I shouldn’t have drunk in zero gravity. Warning: I might vomit, so we might actually have to spool down the centrifuge.” He raises a finger and burps loudly.

I just shake my head at him, unable to stop the amusement filling my veins and the heat of Grace’s hand on my wrist spreading through my whole body.

—

“Mary: Painkillers.” I open my eyes to see Grace sitting on his bunk, eyes sunken, hair standing up as Armanda moves down to hand him water and a pill, which he drinks in one go. “Headache?” I ask, stretching a bit as I sit up and rub my eyes. This might be the first time we both fell asleep.

Yesterday, Grace drank a bit too much and vomited as well; I had to watch over him for the rest of the day. I suppose I fell asleep in the middle of it because now I’m in my bunk. “Hangover,” Grace corrects me as he drops down from his bunk.

“Ouch,” I say empathetically. If hangovers feel like staring back into lights, then I guess it’s really painful. I suppose I should have stopped Grace from drinking yesterday.

Breakfast goes normally. Grace and I eat in the lab: I drink a blood bag while Grace eats some noodles from a cup. He watches me as I drink, and I watch him eat slowly. His hair is still messed up, almost looking as if it were pressed on one side.

“How does it taste for you?” Grace asks.

“What?” I reply, popping my fangs out of the blood bag and tipping it to the side to avoid spilling from the holes.

“The blood, I mean. Does it actually taste sweet? Or is it just blood? I don’t think you’ve ever told me that,” Grace says.

I blush furiously at that question. For some reason, it seems personal. It’s like asking someone to open their mouth and poke their tongue out while the other touches the inside of it. It’s strange, I know, but I just feel weird about it.

“It’s… sweet, yeah—like… my mom’s hot chocolate, I guess.” I shrug, suddenly finding the metal table interesting as I drink the remaining blood from the bag.

“Is it different from mine? I know it came from me, but it’s a copy now. Is it the same or… is it… different?” Grace asks as I eye him.

“You’re asking weird questions,” I point out, and Grace grins, looking oddly guilty.

“I’m asking the right questions as a scientist! Science! Learning! More things to write down!” Grace argues, as if I caught onto him and he feels guilty about it. “You said being a teacher is first, and a scientist is second,” I say, pointing an accusing finger at him.

Grace raises both of his hands. “Fine, you got me! Tie me up, officer.” He bares his wrists together as I raise an eyebrow at him, feeling strangely flushed as I watch Grace just show his wrists stuck together while grinning before rolling his eyes. “Oh come on, Si. We both watched almost half of Hollywood movies, and you still can’t laugh at those kinds of jokes? It’s funny, right?” Grace pouts.

I give him an uninterested look. “I don’t know, Grace. Is it?” I say with a single raised brow.

Grace just flashes me a smile.

The day goes normally after that. Rocky calls again, and Grace tells me that Rocky will come up to visit us today. I didn’t show myself during the call between Grace and Rocky, mostly out of nerves. I haven’t seen Rocky in a while, and the last time I saw him, I had threatened to eat his family alive.

So yeah. Bad last impression.

“So basically, they connect this space elevator to the airlock,” Grace explains to me as I float beside him, watching a xenonite-built tunnel slowly elongate, reaching over the outside of Hail Mary and attaching itself to the airlock as the ship shudders lightly. I try not to panic at that as Grace places a hand over my waist—I let him.

“It’s filled with ammonia. How did we get up here then? Were we put in a suit?” I ask as I turn to Grace.

“Well, not really. We have an actual elevator for us humans to use. I used it back then to go back and forth on Mary when the dome was being built. But it was mostly for Rocky. This is the same thing we used,” Grace shrugs.

“Anyway, this will take a while. The tunnel takes an hour to connect, and Rocky coming up takes… hmm… let’s say two hours or more?” Grace says.

“Doesn’t that affect the fact that we’re going around Erid?” I ask. “Sorry, I don’t really understand much.” I slump over as Grace and I move back to the dormitories, mainly to fix things that aren’t buckled. This mostly includes all of Grace’s mess: his socks, shirts, and shoes. Somehow he’s just wearing a single shoe right now, and the laces aren’t even tied.

There are a few lines tied around where clothes are being air-dried, and they’ve slapped me more than I can admit when I float around to clean the whole ship, picking things up and throwing them in a bag.

It’s hard to clean while everything is moving. But at the same time, that means nothing is hiding in the crevices. I give the bag to Mary, and Armanda takes it from me to store it in what I assume is where the garbage goes on this ship—I have no idea where it gets placed. I also give my empty blood bags to Armanda. 

I have an inkling that they recycle them because it would be such a waste of materials, and I like to think they’ve probably found a way to recycle the bags used for storing food.

“Rocky said he and some Eridians will come to drop off some stuff for this week. That means more blood bags, my food, and my things from home. I hope my work laptop is there as well. I did remind him; I know he won’t forget it.” Grace smiles as he enters the lab while I spin around the tethers that are tied around me.

I pause at that. Grace must be missing his house back in the dome—should I tell him he has a choice to leave me here? It’s not like… Well—not like I plan to leave just yet (I don’t think ever). Besides, they have an infinite supply of astrophage at hand. I’ll just… take advantage of that.

“Why don’t you just go home?” I ask as Grace drifts closer to me. “Are you telling me to leave? Are you kicking me out?” Grace grins.

I give him a look. “No… This is your ship, but—I’m not ready to go down yet, and you haven’t been teaching classes for weeks now, actually for a month.” 

Grace hums. “I don’t mind. I actually have videos I made; I just sent them to the kids in a drive, and they can watch them.” 

I bite my tongue at that. This man is sometimes hard to deal with, isn’t he? “What if the videos aren’t enough?” I ask.

Grace gives me a look for a moment. “How long do you plan to stay here, anyway?” he asks, and I immediately clam up at that.

“How long am I allowed to stay?” I counter.

Grace doesn’t respond to that.

“You mentioned you don’t want to go to Earth because staying on a ship isn’t your forte. Now you’ve been here for two weeks,” Grace says slowly.

“I… I didn’t know the ship was this large. It’s larger than I expected,” I stammer, and Grace drifts closer in front of me, staring into my eyes.

“It’s really not, Simon. How long do you truly plan to stay here? I’m not telling you to leave or anything—I just want to ask,” Grace says softly.

I fall silent and slowly let go of the tether line, which shakes as I drift back and away from Grace, heading towards the large window.

“I don’t really know,” I mutter.

Grace doesn’t respond after that. I glance at him and see him watching me behind his glasses. “Okay,” Grace says.

“Okay.” I echo him, nodding unsurely. “Okay?” I ask again.

Grace nods. “Okay.” He nods, and we leave it at that.

My face burns with shame as I turn back to the window, staring at Erid, with my arms crossed against my chest, trying not to pay attention to the helpless feeling inside me and the burning behind my eyes. 

This time, it isn’t the colors of the planet that hurt; it’s the lack of choice I feel I have.

I spend my time in my bunk after that, too ashamed to show my face to Grace. I think he’s caught on to me. I buckle myself into the bunk and lay there, pretending I’m back in my cell. It sends a jolt of electricity through my body because I hate remembering it, and here I am, torturing myself by trying to recall it.

I’m just practicing… just in case they throw me back in there (if Grace is asking, it won’t be long before I have to just man up and accept the fact I need to go down. I don’t want to, but I can never deny Grace, and I have a hunch about why).

I make sure to buckle myself tightly to remind myself where I deserve to be. I fall asleep to the hum of the ship and the tight buckle digging into my chest.

Chapter Text

The tree doesn’t remotely look like the last tree in Eden or even the trees in Erid. It was large—so large and so tall that its trunk is the size of a mountain, and when I look up, I feel that it’s warping and bending toward me. 

Leaves sprout, and most of all, it’s red. Not bright red, but a dark maroon. When you touch it, it makes a sound like touching something slimy, something you shouldn’t touch. 

It’s hot to the touch, like boiling water or hot oil, but it feels comfortable under my skin. 

I stand on a small island; the sand beneath me is white, and all around me is the blood ocean. The waves are deafening and loud, unlike the ocean in Grace’s dome, where it feels more like peace than war.

I stand there for a moment, staring up at the tree and then at the red sky, seeing nothing but red. There are no stars, no planets, no sun, no moon—nothing at all but the blood-red sky.

“Are you searching for a star?” 

I hear my mother’s voice. But I know well it’s the monster. It’s here, lurking, watching me, even though I can’t see it. 

I don’t respond for a few moments. “What am I doing here?” I ask.

“You came here,” the voice replies, and I sit on the ashy sand, staring at the ocean—watching the blood move and shift.

“No, I didn’t,” I whisper. But somehow, I feel like it’s right.

“Yes,” it replies. “You did. And you know well what I say is the truth.”

I let its words sink into me as I sit down on the sand, breathing out.

I sit there, silent, leaning onto my knees, my elbow propped on them. 

“What am I doing here?” I whisper again.

“Searching for familiarity,” the voice whispers, as if it’s just beside my ear. For some reason, I don’t flinch.

Familiarity, huh?

“Terrifying, isn’t it? To be perceived like an open book,” the voice states as I lower my head.

“Shut up,” I mumble. 

The voice giggles. “Soon you’ll come back to us, and you’ll understand us,” it says.

“I’d rather die than be buddies with you,” I mutter. 

“But you chose to save us,” the voice replies, and I let out a scoff, shaking my head.

“I chose to save myself,” I retort. 

The voice doesn’t respond. “You chose to come back for someone, and it's not yourself.” 

I shut my eyes and sigh, a palm on my face as I try to regulate my breathing.

—

Rocky comes, and I finally realize that nothing between us really changed (kind of). He acts the same; I act the same. Granted, Grace is between us, and it’s possible that we’re both just acting under the pretense of showing that we’re buddies for Grace to see and not worry.

It’s hard to assume what Rocky thinks because he’s a rock. And… he has no face. I have nothing to base my thoughts on aside from his body movements, and even that seems more unpredictable than most.

“Rocky, stay here with Grace and Simon,” Rocky says as I watch Grace’s eyes widen. “What? You will? I thought you’d be busy down there. What about the kids?” Grace asks. Rocky chirps a bit; the notes are soft and bring me to a strange calm lull.

“Adrian, watch over the children,” Rocky says with a small warble as Grace hums. “I do miss you, buddy… Well, fudge it! I miss you a lot. If Adrian is all good with it, then stay with us!” Grace grins excitedly as I watch them from the side, my palm on my cheek as I randomly click keys on the laptop.

Rocky lets out a small excited wiggle. “Just like old times, yeah, baby,” Rocky says as Grace offers him a fist bump. Rocky slowly meets Grace’s with his claws; the movement is jerky, and it’s obvious Rocky is careful not to tap Grace’s knuckles hard. I hide a smile behind my palm at their interaction.

“Nice! Anyway, we’re planning on watching Back to the Future,” Grace says.

I give Grace a look that says, “We are?” but Grace just makes a shushing motion at me, and I shake my head, rolling my eyes.

“Oh oh! Rocky wants to come!” Rocky says.

“Well, let me prepare the don’t go crazy room then for all of us,” Grace stands, winking at me as he grabs onto the lab table to propel himself past me.

Wait, where is he going? “Where are you going?” I grab him by the wrist, and he falls back, drifting in front of me. Grace just grins. “Getting the ‘don’t go crazy’ room for a movie marathon, duh. Back to the Future has three movies; you better prepare yourself,” he says, a glint in his eyes as I frown at him.

“You’re leaving me with Rocky,” I say.

Grace grins and shrugs.

This asshole.

“I thought you might need some alone time with him to talk. I won’t be nosy and listen in. But… you guys do need to talk,” Grace shrugs. I try to ignore that if the centrifuge is on right now, I would be shaking in fear, but at the moment, the zero gravity is helping me gather my wits.

“You can’t do this… We’re fine! See, we aren’t killing each other,” I say, and Grace winces at the ‘killing each other’ part, reaching over to pat my elbow. “Simon, sometimes you just have to face things that make you uncomfortable,” Grace says.

I bite my lip at that, lowering my head, then looking up at Grace. 

For a moment, we are at a standstill, looking at each other while Rocky stays at the side. It looks like he’s gotten busy with Grace’s lab table, his claws propped under the table, holding on to stop himself from floating away.

“Okay?” Grace asks, rubbing my arm.

“Okay,” I say, much quieter than him. I let him go, watching him drift toward the hallway of the ship, waving goodbye and mouthing a ‘good luck’ before turning away.

I swallow nervously.

Oh god, I’m going to be sick. I float there, refusing to turn to Rocky for a moment, not before I pinch myself and finally do.

“Hey,” I say after a long pause. Rocky doesn’t turn towards me, but I can see he’s interested in what I have to say because he’s letting out a few clicks. “What are you—uh, doing there?” I ask, taking a seat in the lab chair, using my legs to keep me in place as I hold my hand under the table, “sitting” down in front of Rocky.

“Rocky just checking Grace’s work. Messy, messy, messy. Rocky thought Simon was teaching Grace to be clean, question?” Rocky asks as I let out a snort, though it feels a little forced because I don’t know what ground we’re both on.

“I—uh, I am, actually. But he’s bad at cleaning, so you just really have to let him be.” I shake my head as Rocky chirps, a small giggle escaping my lips as I swallow nervously, tapping my fingers under the table to keep myself seated and not floating around.

I’d get sick if I kept floating around.

Maybe Grace should have started on the centrifuge, but then again, the elevator is still attached to the Hail Mary. We can’t orbit yet until tomorrow.

Rocky and I fall silent, and I almost want to slam my forehead on the table. But I know I can’t; zero gravity and all.

“Simon okay, question?” Rocky asks.

“Yeah,” I whisper, my voice cracking as I stare at a small coffee stain on one of Grace’s papers.

“Simon lie. Rocky learned how to listen to weak human heartbeat,” Rocky says, and I let out a snort at that. “Not a human anymore, Rock,” I murmur as I raise my head to look at Rocky.

I watch him fidget a little with his claws, letting out clicks and whistles, and I know he’s also thinking.

“Simon, like Mary question?” Rocky asks as I nod slowly. “Simon not go back down to Erid, why question?” He adds, and I swallow nervously at that. 

“Just… I like it here; there are stars.” I start—it’s not a lie, but it’s not the truth either. “Not Earth stars, but stars. I can watch everything through the window… It’s nice,” I say slowly. 

Rocky falls silent at that. “Grace says Simon does not like the ship back then. Now Simon does. Rocky asks why.” He continues. I lower my head and duck, placing my hands behind the back of my neck and holding them there as I breathe out slowly and shakily.

Why is he asking so many questions? Does he see through me? Did Grace tell him? 

“Things change. I can hate one thing and like it later,” I say slowly. Rocky lets out a warble and a hum at that. “Erid is safe. Safe for Simon to come back. Many Eridians in the biodome miss Simon. Grace’s students miss Grace and Simon. Why not go down?” Rocky asks. 

I let out a breath, whistling it out as I raise my head to stare at the ceiling. Then I let go of the table, slowly floating up and away from Rocky. “Just… Want to enjoy space while it lasts,” I whisper, curling my hands onto my stomach. Rocky doesn’t say anything more as I try to drift back to where I was, but I get lazy and just stay by the wall, where I hook my leg onto one of the machines of the ship. 

“Can I say something first?” I ask as Rocky lets out a hum that sounds so human it makes the hair on my skin stand. “Can I say sorry? I want to apologize for what I said to you down there. I didn’t mean it. I care for you, Adrian, and your children. I would never… ever put them in danger or bring danger to them. I’d rather die than let that happen,” I say shakily. 

Rocky lets out a warble at that, and it takes him a while to respond as I stay there, my heart racing as I wait for him to reply. 

“Rocky does not like Simon saying Simon will die,” Rocky says. 

I huff. “Did you not hear what I just said?” I ask, my voice raised a bit, and I can’t help but feel a rush of anger at Rocky’s lack of a proper response to my apology. I said what I said, and I just need Rocky to tell me if he forgives me or not. 

“Rocky heard what Simon said; Rocky doesn’t like how Simon apologizes. Do better,” Rocky says, and he floats away to where Grace went. I curl my hands over my face and let out an exasperated breath. 

My chest aches, and my head pounds. 

I don’t follow Grace or Rocky. I don’t feel like watching today. I go back to the dormitory, strap myself onto my bunk, and pretend to be asleep when Grace comes. I know in his good heart he’ll never try to wake me, and even if he thinks I’m pretending, he still won’t do it. 

And when he leaves, I lie there, staring at the ceiling, hands curled onto my chest as I feel the rush of hunger again.

—

I’m back at the tree, and I didn’t waste any time as I sit down again, watching the waves crash, the blood rippling. I lean on my knees loosely, staring at nothing, my eyes focusing on a distant horizon where I see nothing but more blood.

“What am I doing here?” I ask.

“You hold the answer; why question us?” the voice replies just as I duck my head and breathe out, smelling the coppery scent of the ocean and the heat emanating from it as I cradle my face in my hands, closing my eyes.

“Just answer the question,” I say, my voice muffled against my palms. I sit there, too tired to feel scared, angry, or any emotion I can remotely pull from my body after all the time I have been alive.

“You know the answer,” the voice giggles at me as I rock where I sit, utterly exhausted. “You’re trying to find something familiar. Is it the blood, your past, or is it pain?” The voice adds, sounding playful, as if everything here is just one big joke, like I am.

“You want to go back, to the pain and suffering, because it’s all you ever remember, and it’s all you’re familiar with,” the voice whispers. I open my eyes and let out a shaky sigh. 

I hang my head between my knees and hold it there, staring at my shoes, the laces tied tightly, watching the waves of blood lap up just inches away from them. I don’t move back; I don’t even have the energy to be disgusted.

“You don’t know me,” I say.

“But we knew your name before anyone did,” the voice replies softly. “We were the first to utter your name in that metal box they forced you into. We were the first to try to help you,” the voice says.

“You didn’t help at all, remember that. You made my life a living hell, until now,” I growl. The voice harumphs at me, and the waves crash stronger by my feet, tainting my shoes with red.

“Without me, you would not have met Grace,” the voice says as I raise my head. 

“Don’t say his name,” I reply.

“Grace,” the voice says again.

I grit my teeth and pull on my hair. “Don’t…” I whisper.

“Grace,” the voice repeats, and I close my eyes.

“What the fuck do you want, you fucking monster?” I ask, barely a whisper.

“I want you. To come back to us. And we’ll finally be complete. You, me, us… forever,” the voice says—slowly molding into Grace’s voice, the tone desperate as I sit there, watching the blood lapping and turning my shoes red. I can feel the stickiness inside, how my socks are slowly becoming soggy, sticky, and wet from it.

“And then what?” I ask.

“We come back to our world. We save your people. Don’t you want to be a hero? We’ll create a new world, a better world for everyone, and we’ll rule over it,” the voice says.

I stand up. “No thanks, I like it here in this new world. You can’t make me change my mind now.”

—

I woke up in the middle of the night. Grace was strapped into his bunk, and Rocky was using the other bunk beside him, limp and fast asleep. I had a nagging feeling that Grace was supposed to watch over us but had also fallen asleep. For a moment, I stared at the ceiling and slowly started to unbuckle myself.

I glanced at my shoes. I hadn’t taken them off when I laid down, mostly because I forgot, and wearing shoes feels cumbersome in zero gravity. My shoes were bloodied, and my socks were too, up to the knees of my red jumpsuit. The blood from the blood ocean was darker than the red of the ship's jumpsuit. For a moment, I drifted, staring at the stains.

It’s real… 

That wasn’t a dream, then… 

Fuck. 

I mean, I had always known it wasn’t, but I didn’t think it would manifest in reality like this. “Simon?” I heard Grace murmur sleepily, his buckles coming loose as he unfastened himself from his bunk. I watched him float up, rubbing his eyes. When he looked at my face, he must have seen the horrified expression on it, then he glanced down at my feet, taking in my bloodied shoes and socks. His brows furrowed. 

“Are you hurt? What happened?” Grace asked, now fully awake, as he put on his glasses and moved closer to me.

“I—no, I’m not… I must have… spilled some blood when I was drinking earlier.” I lied. Grace regarded me silently for a moment. He floated back, nodding. “Okay… okay… You’re not hurt, that’s good,” he said.

We both fell quiet at that and moved on. Grace headed to the lab while I stayed in the dorm, my leg buckled onto my bunk as I drank blood, watching over Rocky, who was strapped down as well, his body pressed against the soft plush of the bunk bed. 

It was almost adorable to watch him. Eventually, I finished eating, changed out of my jumpsuit into comfortable pants and a shirt, and switched my socks too. I took off my shoes and decided to bag them in a separate baggie, stowing it inside my belongings, fastening it securely to avoid seeing it later, in case it slipped out between the zippers.

I followed Grace to the lab, floating in the hallway, grabbing onto the sides of the circular door frame into the tunnel as I watched him float around in the middle of the lab, focused on something on his tablet, his eyes serious. 

I wondered what he was working on, which project had his attention this time. He never seems to rest; even when he finishes one task, he moves on to another without pause. It’s like he doesn’t want to stop working, and working is the only thing he feels he can do.

I don’t know what to make of him; he reminds me so much of myself, and it feels pathetic. I sighed internally as I floated there until I hit the ceiling of the hallway, arms crossed and eyes closed.

“You okay?” I opened my eyes to see Grace beneath me, still holding his tablet, which displayed the ship’s layout. He must have been looking at the fuel or something. But I knew the fuel could last for years since the ship was designed to travel from Erid to Earth. And for a while, we hadn’t been doing much; we'd just been orbiting Erid for what? Two weeks and a half?

“Yeah,” I replied.

“You didn’t come to our movie marathon; you slept through dinner as well,” Grace pointed out.

I remained floating, and he held onto the floor beneath him, looking up at me. “Just a bit tired. I already saw the first movie anyway… Uhm… Have you eaten yet?” I asked.

Grace hummed. “Not yet. We can spool the centrifuge now; the elevator’s gone anyway. But I think we can just wait for Rocky to wake up so he won’t be caught off guard,” he said.

I nodded. “Alright,” I said, watching Grace drift back inside the lab, landing back-first on the floor as he floated there, looking at his tablet and tapping something with a frown on his face. I watched him.

“Si?” Grace called.

I looked down at him, floating down as I held onto the frame of the tunnel. “Yeah?” I asked, as Grace tilted his head to look at me. “Is there anything I should know?” he asked.

I blinked, glancing at him and then at the window where I could see Erid. “Uhm, about what exactly?” I replied. Grace shifted, spinning until he was looking down at me. “About… the aliens from your world,” he said. “The black box didn’t provide much information, aside from images and some voice memos…”

I stared at him for a moment, then at my feet, wiggling my toes as we both fell into silence.

“You don’t really do well when talking about this, huh?” Grace asked, attempting to shoot me a reassuring smile, but I only felt anger rise in my throat, choking me.

“Grace, just… stop,” I said, coinciding with him, and he fell silent, his smile fading. “I don’t want to talk about it. In fact, I’d prefer not to talk about it, ever!” I exclaimed, gritting my teeth.

For a moment, Grace gazed at me, the tablet slipping from his hands as it drifts over his head, the screen flipping around. 

I clammed up too, palming a hand over my lips with a sigh. “Sorry,” I said meekly, giving him a cautious look. Grace sighed. “Apology accepted,” he said, and we both fell silent. I moved back to the tunnel.

Maybe I should just go to sleep—

“Simon.” Grace calls me, his tone is different, and I turn to him. “Are you going to sleep again?” he asks.

I look at him and knock my head a bit on the ceiling. “Maybe,” I shrug. Grace’s face pinches, and he looks down at his feet, curling his legs in some kind of crisscross, but they’re still stretched out. “Don’t… please. It’s nice to have you here. I hate it when you get like this. Sleeping won’t help it. You always go somewhere I can’t reach you, and it’s hard.” Grace crosses his arms and looks up at me, just beyond his glasses.

And oh…

Grace’s eyes are red-rimmed as he looks back at me.

I swallow, remembering the blood-soaked shoes and jumpsuit, and I try not to think about the fact that I may have gone to that place multiple times now, but I just don’t remember it.

It scares me.

What if one day I just say yes and it takes me? What if it hurts Grace and Rocky?

“Okay.” I click my tongue, and Grace’s pale face lightens as he smiles, letting out a shaky breath. “Stay with me here?” He tilts his head.

“Yeah… yeah.” I say, and I follow him inside the lab, where I sit on the lab table, my legs around the table to keep me from floating away while Grace plays some music, singing along with it as he works on Mary.

—

I wake up, breath shaking as the monster takes a bite out of my left arm. I probably deserve that, considering I just told it to go fuck itself after it bothered me for the umpteenth time in a row to join them. Fuck that.

I felt a pain on my left side as I grunted, quickly unbuckling myself from my bunk. Rocky and Grace aren’t in their bunks, which means I overslept. The centrifuge is already spooled, meaning we’re no longer flying around.

“Fuck… fuck,” I mutter a curse as I feel warm blood seeping onto the sleeve of my shirt. I can see a wound, a large bite that is slowly healing. It makes me dizzy and hungry as I fall off my bunk, breathing hard. I kneel there for a moment, blood dripping from my hands as I press my palm over the wound; it’s deep, like I was slashed by a knife but doesn’t feel like a bite.

But I’m bleeding hard. The white shirt I’m wearing is turning a whole lot of red, staining the dormitory floor. I’m not healing as quickly as I want to.

I rush to where the blood box is stored, unbuckling it quickly as I grab a blood bag. Not waiting for my canines to fully extract, I bite into it, letting out a pained whine as my wound throbs. I can hear the flesh slowly mending.

I empty the blood from the bag, the rush of sweetness filling my throat as my wound fully closes. 

I breathe out shakily and lean my head back against the wall, my once-wounded arm now limp over my lap. 

I’m sticky with my own blood.

I hear heavy footsteps. “Simon? Simon!” I turn my head to see Grace running in, followed by Rocky. My eyes widen as I sit up properly, only to wince when I feel some of the flesh hasn’t stitched back yet. Grace kneels in front of me, his face pale as he looks at the blood on the floor and on me. It has stained everything—my hands, arm, shirt, and pants.

“What happened? You’re hurt? Rocky said he heard some kind of ripping sounds and pained noises,” Grace says.

I breathe out. “I—I was hurt, but I healed.” I place a hand on the now clean skin where the flesh is fully healed and stitched.

“Simon, okay, question? Rocky heard bad pain,” Rocky says as I wipe my hand across my face, stopping when I realize it’s covered in blood. 

“What happened, Si?” Grace asks.

“I don’t know… I was dreaming, I think, but the problem is that I shouldn’t dream at all… But I was dreaming… and—and the monster bit me. And now I have this,” I explain.

Grace’s brows furrow as he turns to Rocky. “Okay,” he says slowly, holding my bloodied hand firmly. “Let’s get you clean first, then we can do some tests,” he says.

“Not another test,” I sigh, but Grace just grabs my shoulder—the one that isn’t bloody—and squeezes it.

“You need another test, okay? I don’t like this,” Grace says, and I eventually relent and nod.

I take a bath, cleaning the blood off myself and checking for any more wounds on my body. I change into a jumpsuit because my other clothes are air-drying again on the airlock, slipping on some socks and wearing Grace’s slides that he left lying around the dormitory.

I am eventually checked over by Armanda as I lay on my bunk, letting the machine scan me for any more injuries, both internal and external, while Grace stands beside my bunk, biting his thumb. Rocky is on my other side, building something I don’t really recognize; it looks like some sort of necklace, but I’m not sure.

“So, am I safe, doc?” I ask when the scan comes back to Grace, who looks at the screen, rocking his leg as he sits on a stool. 

“The scans say you’re safe—no wounds, both internal and external. You’re healthy. You have a high red blood cell count, but that’s normal ever since your blood mutated. It’s also because your diet relies on blood,” Grace explains.

“You get bad dreams, and it hurts you, question?” Rocky asks.

I sit up. “I think so… I mean, it’s been happening, but this never happened before. I don’t think I got hurt…” I trail off.

“But it can happen again, question?” Rocky asks.

I shrug helplessly. Beside me, Grace bites his nail, rocking his leg as he stares at his tablet for a long while, swiping, pointing, and then writing something in his notebook that somehow hasn’t fallen yet. I can’t understand his handwriting; it’s just gibberish with how quickly he writes it down. He has really bad penmanship.

“I can only say you might just be sleepwalking, and you got yourself hurt. But dream to reality isn’t shelved,” Grace says. “Rocky, watch Simon sleep,” Rocky adds.

It’s true; the three of us are getting used to sleeping at the same time. It’s almost hilarious how everyone on this ship seems so goddamn sleepy. “I’m not going to sleep anytime soon,” I say. Grace taps his pen on his lap before sliding it behind his ear and sighs a breath.

“Might have to for research purposes,” Grace suggests.

I roll my eyes at that but nod anyway and lay down. Rocky doesn’t move from where he’s beside me, and Grace doesn’t move from where he sits. “You both are just going to stay here?” I ask. “Rocky watches Simon sleep,” Rocky replies, and I grumble at that. Rocky is fine, but why do I need two adults supervising me? 

I’m not a kid.

“I’m the researcher here,” Grace grins down at me, and I give him a deadpan look. Not before Grace wheels closer. “Got nothing to do.” Grace places a hand at the side of the bunk.

I reach over to touch it. Grace flinches at that but doesn’t pull away. 

I look into his eyes, and Grace looks into mine. 

I’m not scared. But it would be nice if he would hold my hand while I sleep. Maybe he can anchor me from falling into the dream. 

I don’t have to say a thing because Grace holds my hand, sliding it on top of mine and holding tight. “Getting déjà vu,” I say as a joke, but Grace gives me an unamused look. “Don’t joke about that,” he points out as I grin and poke my tongue at him.

I turn to Rocky, who has stopped what he’s doing, just watching. 

“Rocky worry. Rocky trusts Grace will find a way,” Rocky says, and I see Grace’s face turn red. “Oh buddy, that’s so sweet it almost makes me want to cry,” Grace says. “Sarcasm,” Rocky deadpans as I snicker between them. 

Sleep finds me easily after that.

I wake up to Grace still holding my hand, asleep, and Rocky still tinkering with something in his hands. “Did something happen?” I ask Rocky, who moves to get closer. “Rocky watched, but nothing happened. Good question?” Rocky replies. 

“Good,” I smile, then turn to look at Grace, who is now leaning on the bunk, his hand still holding mine, his hair standing up. “He sat through all of that? How many hours have I been asleep?” I ask, slowly removing my hand from under his and placing it on top of his hair, playing with the soft strands. His sandy blond hair feels beautiful in my hand. 

“Simon has been sleeping for 18,000 seconds. Grace stayed for a long while to make sure Simon is safe,” Rocky says as I hum. “Now Rocky watches over Grace while he sleeps; humans are so bad at watching others sleep.” Rocky lets out a croon as I snort at that. 

After that, we fall silent, just watching Grace sleep. I should probably move him to his bunk so he can sleep; I don’t think he’s sleeping well.

“So do I get another chance to apologize?” I ask Rocky, who lets out a small high-pitched warble at that. “Simon, try,” Rocky says.

I turn to him, fiddling with my socks as I pull on the garter again and again, letting it snap back on my ankle. 

“Rocky, I’m sorry for saying those words. I care about you guys a lot… I guess I just wanted to prove to myself that I was a monster... and… I thought doing that would make you see what I see,” I say slowly.

Rocky doesn’t move at that, just letting out a small, soft croon. “Is Simon a monster question? Rocky doesn’t think so. Simon is just a scared human; scared humans are stupid humans,” he says, pointing a claw at me as I chuckle at that, my shoulders shaking.

“I thought we were having a heart-to-heart moment here; why am I being called stupid?” I ask.

“Is not a lie,” Rocky says, sounding proud, as I hum at him. “Simon is stupid. Much more stupid than Grace,” he adds as I snort at him, giving him an amused look.

“Simon doesn’t even lack sleep but still acts stupid,” Rocky comments as I just shake my head and look away. “Yeah… I am pretty stupid sometimes,” I whisper, looking down at Grace’s closed eyes, his glasses smushed against his face. I slowly slip them off and place them inside my pocket for safekeeping.

"But Rocky doesn't blame Simon for being stupid. Grace turns stupid when he's tired. Simon turns stupid when he's scared. Sometimes, Rocky turns stupid too when he's scared," Rocky warbles softly as I slowly run my hand through Grace’s hair, not sparing him a glance.

"Sometimes being scared means losing control," I murmur. "I’ve always been weak ever since I was a kid… I was always scared of everything around me. I was used to hiding behind my mom. And when… she… Yeah… I felt even more scared of everything around me," I say softly.

Rocky lets out a gentle croon. Grace’s brow is furrowed, and I smooth it over with my thumb.

"Rocky is here when Simon needs to talk," Rocky says as I turn to him. "Me too… If you need someone to talk to when you’re scared, I’m here since we both turn stupid when we’re scared." I smile at him.

Rocky chirps at me, then he moves onto my bunk. I scoot back, making sure to keep Grace’s head cushioned as I let Rocky curl up by my feet. I pull my knees up to my chest. "Rocky sleep. Simon watch. Rocky trusts Simon to watch," Rocky says.

I smile, leaning on my knee, my cheek resting against it. "Yeah, I’ll watch both of you sleep. Thank you for watching me sleep earlier."

Rocky lets out a noise that almost sounds like a machine vibrating before he slowly falls limp, just a pile of rocks. His arms loosely spread around his body as I sit there, watching them sleep. Grace’s soft snores fill the room.

—

I greedily drank from my blood bag as I walked toward the dormitory. Rocky’s been on my case these days about eating “too much”—or rather, drinking too much blood. Apparently, while Rocky has gotten used to Grace eating, it’s much different with me because my teeth shift, and the way I drink blood is very different from how Grace drinks any form of liquid.

Rocky hates when I go for snacks, always reminding me that it won’t be a week until we get another restock, but I don’t care. The blood is all mine anyway, so I drink even when Rocky is around and he’s disgusted.

I made sure to drink as loudly as possible, even making Grace visibly disgusted while he’s working. 

“What are you doing?” I popped my teeth off the bag as I watched Grace pad to my bunk. It was padded with foam from I don’t know where Grace found it, secured tightly with some plastic ties. “For you, duh,” Grace said, patting the foam and grinning at me proudly.

“I buckle myself into the bunk when I sleep,” I pointed out.

“Some people don’t fully awaken even if their eyes are open. Maybe that’s what happened to you. This is just for safety; you must have gotten yourself hurt in some parts here,” Grace said.

It’s been days since my last “dream,” and I haven’t been back there in a while now. No conversations with the monster that end with one of us angry (usually me), and the last one ended with the monster being angry at me for cursing it out.

“Okay… If it makes you feel better,” I said.

“It makes me feel a hundred times better,” Grace waved his hand as I watched him. “Alright…” I replied.

Grace sighed, pocketing out some dried meat and biting into it. I curled my nose at him. He tends to do that—pocket food in his pockets, put it behind his ear, and place it on surfaces that might be dirty.

He chewed and hummed. “What are you up to today?” he asked as I blinked at him. 

“You got anything planned?” I asked.

Grace grinned. “Let’s do an EVA; how about that?” he suggested.

I blinked.

I get to see Erid and the stars outside again. Why the hell not?

I nodded, and Grace grinned.

The centrifuge was pulled back up, and Rocky only gave us an annoyed chirp at the sudden decision while we both fitted into our EVA suits. This time, Grace brought a longer tether with us. I was still attached to him, but it was longer now, and I had other tethers on my waist in case I wanted to detach from him at any time.

“You know, back then I used to surf, but I was really bad at it,” Grace said as I hopped from the side of the ship, my heart leaping into my throat as I watched him hold onto one of Mary’s parts, laughing and giggling. 

“Be careful,” I choked out. I was holding onto one of the dishes on the ship, tethered to two metal ladders while Grace was tethered to a single one, spinning in space as the ship slowly orbited Erid. It was… dizzying. The colors from Erid shone bright onto my helmet (which I was thankful was tinted), and when the ship flipped, I got to see the stars around us.

“I am!” Grace said as he pulled himself back close to me, grinning from ear to ear. I let out a shaky breath, essentially hugging the dish now, hoping I wouldn’t accidentally break anything. “I’m going to get the Guinness World Record for the most EVAs done,” Grace panted, grinning.

“Does it matter how many times you do it?” I asked.

“For NASA, yeah, EVAs are pretty dangerous,” he replied.

“But we’re doing it,” I said.

“Well, that’s because their suits aren’t prepared for any roughhousing. This EVA is the updated version from the first one. It’s better than the old one. It even has a jetpack, see?” Grace explained as he turned, and I saw the red and white backpack on his back.

“You press this to make it work. Here, we have a lot of things to tinker with as well. We had a lot of fun working on the EVA, mostly because Erid is interested in searching for space life, and that means space travel and dependable EVAs that can go to any atmosphere at any time on any planet. That is, if the pressure doesn’t crush them first,” Grace explained.

I swallowed, nodding. “That’s interesting,” I said.

Grace sat beside me, switching his tether to a shorter one before tethering himself to me, and now we were stuck together, sitting on the flat plane of Mary’s body.

“It is. We’ve got Eridian astronauts now. I’m really excited. Maybe next year they’ll get to travel around. They’ve always been creatures of curiosity, you know? They want to learn about everything and everyone all at once. They’re good people, just too passionate from time to time,” Grace said.

“They’re just like us,” I said, turning to him.

Grace snorted, smiling. “Yeah, basically that—except they look like rock spiders with five legs,” he shrugged.

“Mhmm,” I say. “It’s saddening that they can’t see stars from where they are.” I murmur, lowering my elbow over my knees as Mary spins, and we get to see the view on Erid again. 

“Yeah, even if they can see, it’s just that their planet has this layer that basically protects them, so they can’t really see it. They can if they’re out here,” Grace explains. I sigh slowly, a comfortable sigh.

“It’s beautiful here, but terrifying. I think there is always beauty in terrifying things,” I say slowly. 

Grace falls silent beside me; I can’t even hear his breath being picked up by his radio. “Yeah?” Grace asks as I hum in response. “Yup,” I say, popping the ‘P’ as Grace chuckles. He moves closer, our hips bumping and our helmets hitting each other lightly as he turns to me. 

I turn to him as well and look into his eyes, noticing how his hair is pressed down by the helmet. 

For a moment, he stares at me, and I stare back. Then he leans over, the fronts of our helmets touching as I let out a confused noise. Grace moves back, wearing a small, nervous smile. 

“What was that?” I ask, my voice trembling—not out of fear or disgust, but maybe a hint of nervousness and excitement. 

“Appreciating something beautiful and terrifying at the same time,” Grace whispers as I swallow, feeling heat travel up my face and ears. I hope he can’t see beyond the tint as I clasp my hands together, feeling shivers tingle up my spine as Grace places his hand over my knee and rubs his thumb on it. 

I breathe out shakily. “Are you making a move on me?” I ask. 

“And if I am?” Grace counters. 

I fall silent. 

“Okay,” I say, turning into a bundle of nerves. Grace turns to me again, and I look away quickly as fast as I can in zero gravity. 

“Okay?” Grace asks. 

“Mhm,” I respond again. 

“Okay.” Grace grins as I glance at him, his cheeks a little red and his eyes bright. I can’t stop a small smile from appearing on my lips at that. 

We look at each other again, Grace’s hand traveling over to mine. I can’t feel him through the thick gloves, but I savor the touch anyway. And for a second, we both leaned in, our helmets bumping. This time, it was much softer than before.

“Rocky asks if Simon and Grace are going to stay there forever. Rocky needs gravity to work on something,” Rocky’s voice comes through our radio, and we both flinch in surprise moving away from each other, our faces flushed. 

“Jesus, Rocky, warn us next time,” Grace says as I snort.

Grace didn’t let go of my hand.

Chapter Text

I sit on the white sand again, knees raised and loose as my elbow rests on it. I’m here again. I have no reason to be here, but I am. “Why am I here again?” I ask, feeling strangely pissed. I miss being able to sleep in pure darkness and nothingness. “Familiarity—” the voice uses Grace’s voice, and it makes me mad. 

“Bullshit. Shut the fuck up with familiarity. I don’t know you, you don’t know me. Stop dragging me back here,” I growl. 

The tree behind me shifts, even with no air to blow it, but somehow the leaves hundreds of feet above me move, and I can see and feel it. The ground trembles a little, and I bite my lip. 

“Why am I here?” I ask again. “Answer me properly.” 

“We want you back soon, Simon. You promised us,” the voice whispers, changing between so many tones that it makes me a little dizzy. 

“I didn’t promise you shit,” I respond. 

“You promised us everything. It’s time for you to give it to us soon.” I swallow a lump in my throat at that. 

“Face it, Simon, you will never fit in with them, but with us. Here in the ocean, you will belong. You will fit with us right here; we want you here. We will love you like you want to be loved. We will embrace you with warmth.” The voice tethers to the edge of desperation and oblivion as I scoff. 

“You can’t give me anything I want; you don’t have it. And even if you do, I don’t want anything to do with you. Leave me alone or I’ll have to find a way to kill you myself,” I say as I stand up. The white, ashy sand clings to me, sticking to my red jumpsuit, making it look like I decided to bathe in it as I dust my hands together with an annoyed grunt. 

The voice lets out an angry growl. “You will regret saying that soon! You will come back to us, pleading, desperate, asking for forgiveness!” It shrieks, and the whole world shakes; I almost fall down on my knees. 

“Yeah, whatever. Talk all you want; I’m not willingly coming back here anytime soon,” I mutter, snorting as the voice lets out a shriek and the waves become much stronger, the blood moving closer to shore as I step back.

—

I didn’t even have time to open my eyes, but I was already unbuckling myself from the bunk. I looked down at my jumpsuit, noticing specks of white. The ashy sand clung to the jumpsuit, spreading on the bunk bed as if I were tracking sand from the ocean and had forgotten to dust it all off. The small white rocks, barely classified as rocks, scattered over the sheets of the bunk, and for a moment, I sighed and slammed my head back down onto the pillow.

That’s messed up.

I glanced over at Rocky and Grace’s bunk; it was both empty, but I could hear them talking. I quickly got to work, cleaning my bed, changing the sheets, and letting Armanda dust the sand off of me before heading out to eat breakfast.

By the time I finished, I saw Rocky at the lab table, tinkering with something I couldn’t see properly. “Hey,” I greeted him, and Rocky shifted. “Simon good sleep question?” he asked.

I nodded, shrugging. “It’s okay…” I trailed off, looking at my hand and noting the bit of sand still clinging to my skin, making my hand feel ashy.

“Simon worried question?” Rocky asked, now fully turning toward me. Now I could finally see what he was working on; it seemed to resemble some kind of necklace. It had various jewels, the colors clashing against each other, but under the dim light, it created colorful light projections on the table.

“Uh… no—no, what is that?” I asked, moving over to the table and rounding around to see it better.

Rocky looked down at the necklace as I leaned over. “Rocky help,” he said. “Help with what?” I asked. “Courting gift,” Rocky replied. “You’re… courting another Eridian?” I asked.

Rocky let out an annoyed chirp. “Not Rocky. Rocky give this to Grace. Grace court Simon.”

I almost fell onto the table, but my hand caught me, causing the whole table to slam loudly as I let out a loud cough. Rocky didn’t seem surprised as I attempted to fix my posture. “Sorry, what?” I asked again. “Court gift, for Grace. Grace give Simon court gift, then mate,” Rocky said excitedly, spinning around as I made a face, nodding in confusion.

“Okay… Okay, does he know about that?” I asked.

Rocky stopped. “Rocky knows Grace wants,” he said.

I blinked at him and slowly let out an awkward breath. “Ooookay… that’s… look, Rocky, I’m sure Grace appreciates you trying to help, but—we… um…” I paused, unsure of what to say.

What should I even say? We’re not really that serious about it? I don’t think Grace has the time to even think about that. And if anything, it’s most likely he’s just searching for another human, and that human happens to be me since we’re the only two humans on this planet.

“Simon feel same as Grace. Grace wants Simon as mate. And Simon wants Grace as mate. Correct question? Why go around and around? Circle around each other, a mating culture question?” Rocky asked as I leaned over the table, then took a heavy seat in the chair, folding my head over my arms and laying there.

“Simon okay question? Too much question?” Rocky asked.

“Yeah,” I sighed tiredly.

Rocky fidgeted with his claws before grabbing the necklace and showing it to me. “Rocky make sure that courting gift is beautiful; it sound very beautiful,” Rocky said, tapping the jewels. I watched the light shine through the multitude of colors cast down by the light above.

“It looks beautiful as well, Rocky. If Grace were to ever give me that, I would say it looks amazing,” I said with a small tired smile, as Rocky let out a soft hum and a chitter that sounded a bit excited.

“So Simon want Grace give courting gift question?” Rocky asked.

I eyed Rocky and then the necklace. “You worked hard for it. Why can’t you be the one to give it to me?” I asked. Rocky let out a sharp trill at that, sounding offended. “Rocky not want to take Simon as mate. Have Adrian. Courting gift only come from who want to take Simon as mate. Grace want,” Rocky said, and I sighed, raising my head as I propped it up with my knuckle.

I offered my palm as Rocky placed it on it. It was warm, almost hot, but not hot enough to burn my skin; it was actually quite pleasing to touch. I rubbed the jewel between my fingers, eyeing the lights as they played off the table underneath.

“Rocky… it’s really nice of you to try to help Grace… or me—but I don’t know about this,” I said.

Rocky didn’t reply, falling silent except for a few hums and chirps, twitching slightly as he lowered himself onto the table.

“But Simon like gift, question?” Rocky asked.

“It’s amazing,” I said.

Rocky took it from my hand, and I let out a surprised noise at that. “Then Rocky take back gift, next time. Simon accept gift, Rocky find way.” he said. For a moment, I worried I had offended him; I made sure to tell him I loved it. I watched as Rocky climbed down from the table, skittering toward the pilot room, and I let out a small ‘huh.’

I walk around the ship before finding Grace in the don’t-go-crazy room, sitting there with the screens closed and dark. He’s hunched over his laptop, his back turned to me as I watch him run his hand through his hair almost nervously.

“Hey.” I say, and I watch Grace startle so hard he almost falls on his face. He lets out a choked scream, knocking his glasses into his lap, the glasses clattering against the laptop keyboard as he quickly picks them up to place them back on his face. 

“Simon? Jesus—you scared me!” Grace says as I give him a raised brow look and move to sit beside him. He clicks something, and all I can see is a movie tab. But I have a nagging feeling he was looking at something else. He’s wearing one of his wired earphones—one earphone in his ear and the other dangling in his lap.

“What were you looking at?” I ask as Grace looks over to me, biting his lip. “Just watching a movie,” he replies. I give him an unimpressed look because I know very well he’s lying. Whatever he’s doing, he needed to be alone somehow.

Grace gives me a pleading look for a moment, and I just stare at him, giving him the option to keep lying or not. “Okay… I was… listening to something… some… saved voice messages from the black box,” Grace says, his voice lowering as I freeze. 

I watch him switch the tab on the laptop screen, and I feel my body shiver a little as multiple pictures appear—all of them are the X-ray images taken by both the SM-8 and SM-13, along with a few voice messages from both submarines.

“Why?” I ask. Grace winces, looking nervous and refusing to meet my gaze. His hands are nervously rubbing against his pant leg, and I want to hold them so he knows I’m not truly angry, more like… confused maybe. Why does he want to know about it so much?

“Sorry, I—” Grace stutters. “It’s okay. It’s not like I have any control over it anymore. I mean, everyone knows at this point; why should I care if you look at it?” I say. 

Grace’s face turns dark. “It’s because your voice is here too, and I value everyone’s privacy in this place,” he says, his voice rising. 

I fall silent at that. “I know you said you don’t want me to talk about it anymore… and—and I’m sorry for… for…” Grace swallows. 

“Grace, it’s fine. At this point, why should I really care anymore?” I murmur, pulling my knees up to my chest and leaning heavily against them. 

Grace is quiet. “I just want to understand what you went through,” he murmurs softly. 

“Why? Why do you want to?” I ask. 

“You must have been scared when this all happened.” Grace says as I turn to him. For a moment, I am quiet, then I shakily breathe out. “Yeah, I was… I am… Still am,” I mutter. 

I watch Grace inch closer to me, and I lean onto him a little, freezing momentarily and expecting Grace to push me away. But he doesn’t. 

So, I lean on his shoulder. “You’re a strong and brave man, Simon,” he says. 

“I already know what happened,” I say. “I’m not a strong or even brave man. I’m not even a good one.” I sigh. “I let 62 people die in Filament Station… I couldn’t save any of them. Sure, I wasn’t the one who set the bomb off. But I had the chance to stop it. But I hesitated. I thought, ‘Should I warn them? Or should I just let it happen?’ I cared more about what others would think than about the lives I could have saved. There were people there with families, Grace. And I couldn’t stop it from happening,” I whisper. 

“It’s not your fault, Simon. None of this is your fault. You’re a good man because you wanted to save them; you didn’t want it to happen. But sometimes… not everything goes your way. Sometimes, making a move feels more like a hurdle, and it feels terrifying,” Grace says. 

I listen to him as I slowly lower my head onto his shoulder. Grace freezes for a moment before he breathes out softly. I look up, watching his face, the stubble on his chin and cheek, his mussed-up hair, and the glasses that seem so loose on his face. 

“I’m not saying I understand you or that I went through the same thing as you, but I know the feeling of having to act on something you feel you can’t do… and it’s… so scary—it's terrifying,” Grace murmurs. 

“You do,” I reply. Grace looks down, surprised. “You understand me… I don’t know how, but I think you have some kind of mind-reading ability,” I joke as Grace cracks a smile. 

“Maybe I do… or I don’t. But who knows? You’ll never know,” he grins. 

I snort at that, rolling my eyes.

Then we fall quiet. Grace leans onto me, his head resting on top of mine while I enjoy the heat from his body. “This is pretty nice,” Grace says. I just hum in response, closing my eyes for a moment.

“It’s okay,” I murmur, and Grace chuckles, his shoulders shaking. “Do you want to try?” I ask, sitting up as Grace lets out a confused noise and turns to me. “What?” he asks. “Laying on my shoulder,” I say, as Grace looks at me dumbfounded, his mouth agape. “If you don’t want to…” I trail off, feeling suddenly nervous.

“I want to! I—I do want to; let me just…” Grace stammers as he moves his laptop off his lap and to the side, shifting closer to me and ducking down to lay his head over my shoulder.

He isn’t heavy by any means—he really needs to eat more than just coffee. This can’t be safe.

We both go quiet, just enjoying the darkness of the room. It feels terrifying to sit there in the hum of the ship willingly. But with Grace beside me, I feel somehow calm. It’s nice.

It’s nice to have the screen on some video, but it’s nicer to have Grace beside me, his hair tickling my cheek as I feel him nuzzle his cheek against my shoulder. I move my arm behind his back, loosely placing it on his waist and thumbing it lightly. 

“Is this okay?” I ask.

“Perfect,” Grace breathes out, sounding like he’s lost some weight off his shoulders. As if what I’ve offered him has helped him tremendously.

Then suddenly, Grace leans in a bit more—more than I kind of expected—and wraps his arms around my waist, burying his nose into my neck and just staying there. “Is this okay?” Grace asks, and I shiver when his warm breath hits my ear.

“Yeah,” I mutter, my hold on him tightening as we sit together. Grace’s weight leans mostly onto me, and I don’t mind—I’ve gotten stronger, and I don’t know if it’s the monster's blood in me or something else.

—

I wake up to someone screaming loudly, and as I jump like I was electrified before realizing there are straps holding me down, I start unbuckling my strap. I hear loud footsteps outside the dormitory, and with Rocky’s bed empty, I assume he’s staying up to watch us sleep tonight and whoever is running, that’s definitely Rocky.

I scrambled up and stumbled out of my bunk like a drunk and towards Grace’s, I wiped the blur off my eyes and looked over.

Grace is strapped onto his bunk, crying, his eyes wide as I loom over him, half asleep. I didn’t even know how I woke up from such a deep sleep that not even Mary being cut in half could reach me. But somehow, I was able to awaken from Grace having a nightmare and screaming his head off.

Granted, I was still half asleep, and Grace was already awake by the time I reached him because unbuckling yourself still half asleep is hard with buttery hands that don’t want to cooperate when you love to sleep a bit too much.

“Simon—Simon, you’re okay?” Grace whimpers, his eyes red and filled with tears as I unbuckle him from his bed. Suddenly, he springs up to hug me, and now I’m covered in sandy blonde hair. I’m pretty sure I got some of his hair in my mouth as Rocky comes barreling in, sounding like fifty pianos being mashed together while swinging a wrench and a screwdriver.

“What the—” I can’t even cover my confusion.

If you wake up to crying and screaming, and pianos are being mashed together. You’re bound to get very confused

“What happened question? Grace is screaming and leaking! Bad, bad, bad—did someone hurt him question!?” Rocky shouts over the crying as I rub Grace’s back, who is clinging to me.

Rocky stops and falls quiet as he runs up to us, climbing onto Grace’s bunk and letting out a croon.

“What’s wrong? Hey—hey,” I whisper to Grace, who continues to cry on my shoulder, his tears touching my skin.

He keeps his face buried there, refusing to lift his head as he holds on tightly. “Simon, what’s wrong question? Grace heart move fast, and Grace leaking so much,” Rocky asks softly as he places a claw on Grace’s thigh.

“I, uh—have zero clue. Rocky—I just woke up too,” I reply, still bleary, but my hand automatically begins patting Grace’s back. He’s sobbing as if I’ve taken his kids away from him while he was in labor or something.

We all stand there for a few minutes. Then Grace leans back and sniffs, wiping his extremely red eyes as I hold his shoulder, still quite worried. “You okay?” I ask, looking him in the eyes. Is he drunk, maybe? When he drinks vodka, he gets stuck between laughing at everything and becoming sad over nothing before eventually vomiting and getting carried back to his bunk.

“Y-Yeah... I just had a bad dream,” Grace mumbles, still rubbing his eyes raw as I stop him. “You’re going to hurt your eyes; you’re going to go more blind,” I say, and Grace just gives me a playful smirk.

“Can’t be any more blind than you in normal light,” he retorts quickly. 

“Did Grace have a bad dream question? Grace used to always have bad dreams, but never this bad,” Rocky says as I glance at him. I raise my brow at Grace, who looks down, wiping a hand down his face as he breathes out.

For a moment, we’re all quiet; both Rocky and I are waiting for Grace to say something. 

“You’re one tough cookie, Simon. I think I just had a bad dream about your alien friends,” Grace gives me a look, and I snort at that and step away, but Grace pulls me and keeps me there.

“I told you not to keep looking at the black box,” I sigh, shaking my head at him as Grace leans against my chest, holding my waist and sniffing.

Rocky lets out a small click and a hum that vibrates the whole bunk bed, moving towards Grace’s knee. Grace places a hand on Rocky’s body, letting out a breath of relief.

Later, we’re all eating breakfast. Rocky is at the table, mashing his food with his claw while Grace and I sit by the window, talking quietly to give Rocky privacy. 

Rocky’s used to Grace watching him eat, but not me yet, and I don’t really want to see Rocky open his... um, hole? to eat. Grace mentioned it was awful and a little disgusting to watch.

“The dream felt so real. It was so... God, it was so terrifying. It’s scary, it was so... bloody. It’s just—man... You know, when I was a kid, whenever I'd watch horror movies, hell, even action movies, I’d always give myself bad dreams. I didn’t think it would happen to me now. And I’m about to hit 50!” Grace grouches, glaring at the window as he chews his dried beef, a metal cup with noodles propped between his thighs while I drink from my blood bag.

“Is that what you went through? I can’t even imagine. I was already horrified by the pictures and the voice messages,” Grace asks, adjusting his glasses and slipping them behind his ear, letting them dangle under his chin.

“It wasn’t just me... there were a bunch of convicts and scientists that also went there. But the black box contained my ship’s and the SM-8’s files. That’s why there’s so much,” I explain, licking the blood off my hand when it spills a little.

I can feel Grace’s eyes on me as I do it. For a moment, I feel nervous as I eye him.  

“Sorry, am I—” Grace looks away, eating his food.  

“It’s fine… But you just had a dream about… those things,” I shrug. “It might be a bit sickening to watch me eat,” I add.  

Grace lets out a breath. “No, it’s fine… Just… You’re technically drinking me,” he points out.  

Sometimes, Grace’s ability to change the topic so fast astounds me (I’m also amazed I can even hold a meaningful conversation with this guy at all). But I am a bit grateful that we’re not talking about the black box anymore. As much as I’m trying my damndest to lose every emotion I have from my world, I still can’t help but feel the horror every time it’s brought up.  

I’ve learned to live with fear But now I want to live without it. 

There are two differences between those two.  

“Don’t make it weird,” I said with a groan. Grace just grins. “What? Why? The real thing doesn’t taste well enough for you?” he asks.  

I feel my face heat up at that question as I glare at him. “Grace, it’s too early,” I say, but Grace just pouts. “It’s not. I think we can both joke about it now,” he says with a nudge, but I just bite my lip and shrug helplessly. I still feel guilty; I can’t just forget what I did to Grace.  

Sure, Grace can, but I just… remember everything, you know?  

I really have a list of things to be horrified and scared about. It makes me a little sick to think how long it is.  

Grace eyes my face as if he can read me well.  

For a moment, I can see him think, then he shakes his head and takes a bite of his dried meat, chewing slowly. “What are you thinking?” I ask, because I recognize that look, and I’m scared of what he has in mind.  

Grace eyes me, then he grabs his metal cup where his noodles are steaming hot. He blows on it. “Nothing, it’s stupid,” he says.  

I lick my lip, cleaning the remaining blood staining it, and I can see Grace watching me, slurping his noodles a bit too loudly than normal.  

I give him a glare.  

“What? You eat loud too, don’t lie to me; you’re trying to disgust us,” Grace said as he swallows.  

I shrug. “It was worth a shot. We’ve got three people here who eat differently: Rocky, me, and you.” I said as Grace hums, still eyeing me as I bite into the blood bag again.  

“Does it hurt when you make your teeth come out?” Grace asks. “I got used to it, but yeah. It’s like you’re purposely pulling it loose,” I explain.  

“Interesting,” Grace says. I shake my head at that, fearing the worst. “Please don’t use me as your guinea pig,” I said.  

Grace bursts out laughing at that and pushed me, still laughing. “I would never!” he says. But I was serious—plenty serious. I’ve had enough of being used as a test subject, really.  

Grace stopped laughing when he sees me serious. “I swear, I’m not,” he says.  

I nodded, relieved. “Thanks,” I said.  

We eventually eat in peace. I finished first as I sat there, the hallway going dark as the ship spins. Erid once more appears by the window as we sit there in the hall.  

Grace eventually went on his merry way, and I stayed by the little nook by the window, just reading a book on a tablet as I watched Erid come out of sight and back again as Mary spins around.  

I saw Grace pass by me a couple of times, looking at me but refusing to come close. Now I’m here wondering what he wants, but at the same time worried that maybe he’s feeling a bit scared? No, scared is a big word; Grace would have told me if so.  

Maybe he’s apprehensive of me at the moment because of his nightmare.  

Right now, I’m sighing internally. I really should have told Grace to stop snooping; now he’s got himself nightmares because he’s looking over those files.  

This guy.  

“Hey.” Grace jumps beside me; he’s drumming his hands together quickly—his breath smells like coffee. It’s obvious he’s drunk many bags of coffee over the past few hours. “What is it?” I sit up from the nook, feeling a bit too comfortable just curling up on the floor with the metal digging into my back, but it’s comfortable anyway.  

“Uh, got an experiment. Nothing too interesting, I need you,” Grace says, inching close as he braces his palms on my knees while I stare back at him, blinking.  

“You need me?” I ask.  

Grace grins, innocent, but I know in his eyes he’s planning something heinous, though I don’t know what. Grace nods, grinning excitedly. “Yeah. I need you right now,” he says in a strange, breathless way that makes me feel hot all over, but I nod anyway.

Grace brings me to the lab. Rocky isn’t around anywhere. Not before I realize it must be his turn to sleep now, and he’s probably strapped in the bunk by Grace.

I sit on the chair, the stool spinning. “So, what is it?” I ask.

I watch Grace shuffle around, grabbing things from shelves and cabinets, hitting his hips on some machines I don’t know, tripping all over. 

I watch, lowering my chin over the palm of my hand. There is something charming about the way he’s clumsy; I don’t know why.

Grace then sits beside me, his stool sliding a few steps away before he moves closer. I watch him grab some kind of cup, placing a plastic cover over it, stretching it before getting a rubber band and tying it around the rim of the cup, then handing it to me.

“I just need to test some hypotheses right now. Can you bite on that like how you bite on your blood bag?” Grace asks. I raise my brow at that as I grab the cup from him, looking at it.

“What for?” I ask.

Grace just gives me a pout. “Please? Just one time. I juuuuust need to understand something,” he says. I eye the laptop at the side, seeing a muted movie.

It was Twilight. I haven’t seen the movie yet, but Rocky mentioned to me that I’m very much alike with one of the characters there. 

Apparently, it’s what you call a vampire? I think I’ve read some books, something about knights that include vampires, but I don’t think I’m as amazing as them. 

I don’t even know how to hold a sword for god's sake!

I look at Grace again. “Grace?” I ask, hoping for some explanation from the older man.

Grace sighs. “Okay, look, I got a small theory that the blood that is coming out from your teeth when it comes out isn’t really blood. Yeah, sure, you’re right; it hurts, but the thing is, with more use, the gums would eventually adapt. Eventually.” He shrugs and stands up, pacing back and forth.

I watch him run his hands together, looking weirdly embarrassed and flushed. “Look, forgive my brain; we’ve been here for weeks. Anyway, I theorize that whatever comes out of your canines isn’t blood but some kind of venom. Just like snakes, but this one—hear me out—this one basically calms the one you’re feeding from. Now, when you bit me…” Grace starts. I wince.

“I felt it at first; I did, but somewhere in between, I felt like I was… you know, drunk but not drunk. That’s why I couldn’t fight back much. So I need to… get some of that venom from you.” Grace makes some gestures, looking nervous as he stops in front of me. “Basically, it makes things painless for those you feed from! Really cool, right?” he grins excitedly, rocking on his feet.

“And what are you going to do with it?” I ask.

“Study it?” Grace asks.

“Okay.” I shrug. “Okay?” Grace sits down quickly, moving close, his leg between mine as I give him an odd look.

He’s very close…

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to do it in front of you? What if…” I say unsurely. I don’t know how Grace would react. I’d rather not see him scared of me. I think I’d throw myself out of the airlock if so.

Grace shakes his head. “No, no, I’m way beyond that. I swear. It’s your body’s reaction to finding a source to heal you; it’s not necessarily your fault. Your instincts worked first to keep you alive. If you didn’t do that, you would have died because you were starved for the right nutrients. Are you still following me?” Grace asks as I nod.

Yeah, sure. Okay. If Grace is fine with it, I don’t mind. If anything, I’m happy that Grace is comfortable with me doing this.

I move the cup to my teeth and bite into it lightly, then in one move. I try to imagine I’m drinking a blood bag. A small pain travels up my gums, and I feel and taste the copper pooling out from my canines, and Grace ducks his head to look under the cup, seeing something drip down. Not the color of blood, but it looks completely white.

His eyes travel far up. “Your lower canines also come out; I should have known. The bags have four holes in them.” He snaps his fingers—I try not to flush at the fact that Grace purposely checked the bags I drink from to even notice that. “I can control it, but it’s faster with four holes,” I said as I pull my teeth out from the plastic and hand the cup to Grace, who looks at it excitedly, peeling off the plastic, throwing it in the bin, and covering it with a lid, but it just falls on the ground with a clatter when he missed. I swallow a sigh.

“So you can choose which part you want to use?” Grace asks. 

“Sometimes… I have to think about it really hard. But I just let the lower one come out since having four holes on a bag is faster to drink from than just two,” I explain, feeling a bit nervous as I watch Grace swab the liquid from the cup, looking far too excited.

I let Grace science around like a scientist, sitting on the table as I watch him run around like he’s discovered a brand new alien lifeform, looking so excited that I feel there is something hidden beneath this and why he’s so interested in it.

“You’re definitely an apex predator species. Which just means those lifeforms in the black box have no natural predators above them. Which is weird; there were bones!” Grace explains as he sits down heavily, reading the sheet of paper he printed out, a marker behind his ear, one in his coat pocket, and a pen between his fingers as he spins it.

I’ve been watching him switch on those three things repeatedly for the past few hours, looking like some kind of mad scientist. Well— he looks mad, one thing for sure. Grace can be pretty crazy.

“The camera is an X-ray; it’s possible some bones there aren’t bones, they could be alive,” I say.

“They’re all predators. And they’re living in the same place… If what you say is right… why are they all goodie-goodie with each other?” Grace asks, leaning back as he rubs his chin. “Maybe they made friends along the way,” I shrug.

“Hah!” Grace snaps his fingers as I watch him spin his chair around. “Made friends along the way—friggin hilarious…”

I watch him spin some more. “It’s not really that important anymore,” I said. “True. I just got sidetracked; I was more interested in you, actually. Do you think you can take blood from an actual living person?” Grace moves back, leaning on the table as I startle at that.

“From a human? No, I can’t—I’m—” I stutter. I don’t want to hyperventilate. I breathe in and out. “No way,” I said seriously as Grace looks at me.

For a moment, he stares into my eyes. And I stare back into his, feeling a bit nervous. And I think it might have mirrored my face because he showed a strange emotion that you can almost call slight guilt.

Then he claps his hands, making me flinch. “Yeah, you’re right; this research is scrapped!” He balls the paper and throws it over his head behind him, and the ball of paper falls neatly inside the bin.

I clap for him, and Grace mutters a “score!” under his breath as he stands up. “Okay, I’m going to get some coffee, B.R.B!” He salutes and walks off, almost tripping on a chair before he rights himself and pushes it away.

He mumbles something under his breath, palming his face as I watch him disappear from the door frame, shaking his head.

Huh.

He’s getting weird.

—

The sea of blood rushes by my feet again as I stand there.  

“Scaredy cat. Scaredy cat,” I hear the voice whisper, giggling as I stand there. “Do you want to go back? Go back there? Where they see you as a monster? Put you in a box to be fed like a dog and watched like you’re going to snap?” it asks, laughing.  

I grit my teeth gnashing it with a painful grate, breathing through my nose noisily as I stare at the blood ocean with hate.  

I’m back here again; what a shit show.  

“A boy living a coward’s life. What is your decision now? Do you stay there or come with us?” it asks as I scoff.  

“I don’t give a flying fuck no matter how many times you ask me,” I mutter.  

“Leave me alone, you monster,” I growl.  

The voice only lets out a small giggle. “You’ll come to us soon, you will. You will come to us one day for help, and you’ll never be able to take it back,” it says.  

“As if,” I reply.  

The voice lets out a giggle, one that basically says they’ve won. I glare at the blood ocean, clenching my fist.  

“A coward you are, Simon,” it says again, and I let out a shaky breath, my ears ringing. I feel like a loser, and worse. I'm mad that I'm losing against this fucking monster. After all, its right. I am a coward.

Chapter Text

Grace is getting weirder and weirder every day. Maybe it’s the fact that we’ve been here for a month and something days now. He probably misses being down in Erid, and I feel genuinely bad. I told him he can leave, but he doesn’t.

Rocky stayed for a couple more days with us before going back down to Erid because he’s needed there for his family, with a promise to me that the next time I go down, I have to finally meet their children. 

I feel nervous (because I don’t know if I want to go down yet), but I said yes anyway. 

And now it’s just us two—me and Grace. I think we’re starting to get closer. Not just in a physical sense, but… relationship-wise, the line between our boundaries is getting blurrier, and I don’t know what to make of it. I don’t know what to call it even, but I… think I like it. I can’t hate it. 

Anything about Grace is hard to hate or dislike. I don’t think I can even associate those two words with Grace. Even if he turned me into a monster, I probably wouldn’t hate him at all. And that feels dangerous.

It feels strange, really. I feel like I’m standing at a very dangerous place. Grace is slowly starting to haunt my mind, not just in person, but in my thoughts as well. It feels… intimate to think of a friend like that. 

I don’t even know if Grace sees me as a friend anyway; we’ve never labeled anything between us. I just know that we can live with each other in such a small space— in space. It feels like it has changed a lot of things about how I see myself. 

I always thought I wouldn’t be able to live with anyone in such a small space. But Grace made it possible somehow. I don’t know how to make of it. Grace is a good man… and I’m slowly trying to get to a point where I can stand beside him. 

I still don’t want to go back down to Erid. I’m still terrified of returning to a place where they finally saw the real me, and I can no longer act as someone else, as someone innocent. 

Grace touches me. I touch him back. He reaches for me. And I reach back. It feels dangerous, but Grace feels like the sun, and while he’s bright and tends to give me a headache, I’m attracted to his warmth. 

I don’t know what to call it. It makes my stomach tingle—not in hunger, but in a way that I want to vomit up my heart because of the little to no space between us. It scares me, but at the same time, it gives me hope for something. And I don’t know what that is. 

I don’t want people. That’s because I’m unlovable. I can’t want because it’s just a poor man’s dream to want a person to love you for who you are. 

Me and Grace are two different people. We’re far away from each other—lengths apart even. I’m not like him. 

I just… it’s hard to word. I feel the word for how I see Grace is an understatement of what I feel. I admire him very much. 

I feel a lot of things for him. I want to protect him, keep him safe, make sure nothing bad happens to him like what happened before. I want to keep the monster away from him, but I am the monster. 

Yet I’m letting him come close to me. 

But most of all, I want to stay by his side forever. I don’t know how that sounds. 

“You know, if you think about it, we’re just… having a space sleepover. If you come back to Erid, you’ll go back to your house,” Grace says. He lies beside me. We stripped the third bunk’s mattress to bring it towards the hall to the lab, so we can just stare out the window, with our pillows and blankets making a messy nest around us, but neither of us is moving. 

We’ve been doing this for a few days now. Just a day after Rocky’s departure back to Erid, we started sleeping on the same mattress right here in the tunnel. We haven’t unspooled the centrifuge in a while now because we didn’t find a way to buckle the entire thing without making it uncomfortable for us. 

The metal buckles would dig into our skin if we did.

“Is this you admitting that you want me to stay as your roommate?” I ask as a joke, and Grace snorts beside me. “What if I do? Will you go back to Erid and stay with me?” he asks.

I fall silent at that.

“Not that I am rushing you… Just… I want to ask, how long are we going to stay here?” Grace asks, his voice a murmur as he turns to his side, looking at me.

There are no pillows between us; we’re lying beside each other. It almost feels juvenile for someone approaching 30 to be sharing a bed with a 40-year-old man. Yet, it’s funny that the older one between us acts more like a child.

“I don’t know yet,” I say—the same thing I say every time Erid comes up between our conversations. It’s come up more frequently since Rocky left, and I’m running out of ideas on how to prolong my stay here in Mary.

Grace hums. 

“Are you scared?” he asks.

“What?” I reply, finally turning to my side to meet his eyes.

Grace’s eyes are soft. I can’t help but want to drown in those blue depths. 

“Are you scared to come back?” Grace asks.

“What gave it away?” I ask. It’s a serious question; I wasn’t aiming for sarcasm at all.

“Mhm…” Grace hums. “Maybe because we never talk about going back to Erid for more than thirty seconds,” he says with a small grin.

“You counted?” I ask, making a face. “You’re weird,” I say.

Grace grins at me, shrugging in a way that says ‘Yep, I am,’ and I just frown at him. “I don’t really know,” I admit. “You can always go down first,” I add.

Grace sighs, placing his palm under his cheek and staring at me. His gaze feels heavy.

“I told you I’m staying with you until you decide to come back,” he says.

I frown heavily at that. “And if I don’t?”

Grace looks back at me. “Then I suppose I don’t.”

I sit up at that, feeling a strange ache in my chest and annoyance coursing through my veins. 

I may admire this man, but he gives me more headaches than a normal person should. “Are you serious?” I ask as I sit up, sighing noisily (making sure Grace can hear it), fairly annoyed that Grace is so willing to stay here with me, affected by one of my selfish decisions, which shouldn’t affect him, but he’s so hell-bent on letting it.

It makes me angry.

“I am,” Grace sits up, giving me a look.

“Grace. Come on, we’ve talked about this. I don’t care if I’m alone here; I can work around it. You taught me how to manage Mary. I can do it. You can go back down and teach those children; I’m sure they miss you,” I say, slapping my knee as Grace rolls his eyes.

It just makes me more annoyed.

“Simon, like I said, no. I am staying,” he insists.

I frown at him. “Grace.” I sigh, dropping my head between my knees as I breathe out through my nose.

“You can’t change my mind,” Grace huffs beside me. 

“I’m never leaving this ship,” I mutter between my legs, struggling to control my breathing.

“Well, then it’s fine. I miss being in space anyway,” Grace responds as I close my eyes and groan.

“Grace. Please. You can’t be serious. You’re staying here?” I turn to him.

“Yeah!” Grace nods.

“For me?” I ask.

“Yeah!” Grace nods again, his tone the same as before, making me groan as I lean back and hit my head against the wall. Grace’s brows shoot up.

“Why can’t you just be a jerk and leave me to rot here in this space hell?” I mutter as I stare at the ceiling.

“What are you so afraid of, Simon?” Grace asks, grabbing my wrist and pulling me up so I sit back up again, slumping down and hugging my pillow.

“I don’t know. I don’t understand anything at all. I thought the longer I stayed here, the more I’d understand what I want,” I say, my voice muffled in the pillow.

“So? What have you got then?” Grace asks.

“Nothing. Nothing. A bunch of bullshit!” I punch my pillow and throw it around, flipping it as Grace dodges a pillow to the face while I scream into the pillow for a long minute.

“Wow, that was ten minutes of screaming,” Grace says as I finally raise my head, feeling faint as I sit up.

We both fall quiet.

Then Grace moves, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me toward him—toward his chest. I try to ignore the warmth on my chest as I lie back on him while he holds me there. “Maybe this will help you think,” Grace murmurs, his face against my neck as we sit there.

He hugs me from behind, and I hug the pillow in front of me. It’s almost kind of hilarious, but it just makes my heart race. “Is this one of your so-called studies again? When humans hold each other, they can think better?” I deadpan, as Grace giggles behind me, his arms around my torso as he holds me tight.

“Yeah… Helps me a lot,” he mumbles behind my ear as I hum, leaning back a little. We fall silent. 

“Any answer now?” Grace asks. I sigh and move away from Grace, my skin itching at the fact that I want to stay in his arms, but I know I can’t. I can’t… bother Grace with these kinds of things. 

“Grace… I—” I pause, breathing slowly as I try to think. “It’s hard—I don’t know what I should say. I can’t go back…” I murmur. Grace looks into my eyes as I palm my face for a moment, leaving it there as I breathe out shakily. 

“You can’t or you just don’t want to?” Grace asks. 

I stand up. “I’m going to sleep in my bunk tonight.” I clear my throat, picking up my blanket and my pillow. Not before Grace grabs my wrist. “Wait—Simon, come on. Let’s talk. Tell me why, what is it that you’re so afraid of?” He tries to tug me back. 

But I’m stronger… Physically, because of the change the monster gave me. He can’t pull me at all as I turn away and walk, but Grace keeps his hands on my wrist—two hands—as I drag him down the hallway. 

“Grace,” I say, exasperated, as I turn back to him, his knees pressed up to his chest as he holds onto me while I walk away slowly toward the dormitory. “I’m not letting go unless you tell me. We’ve been at this since we came here; I just want to know,” Grace says. 

“I think it’s really obvious, Grace.” I can’t help but snark at him, and he lets out an offended gasp. “I’m trying to understand you right now, and you’re being a brat,” Grace says, and suddenly he moves, wrapping his whole legs around my left leg as he holds onto my waist.

I stand there and stare at him. He weighs nothing at all. 

“You really are pretty strong,” Grace says, his voice muffled in my jacket as he holds onto me, trying to stop me from moving. I walk again, not caring that Grace is literally holding onto me. “Simon, stop. Come on. Stop,” Grace says as I sigh, rolling my eyes.

“Simon—” Grace starts. 

I stop, and Grace slips down with a thump, an “oof” escaping his lips as he falls on his back. I turn to him. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” I say. 

Grace pushes himself up to sit. “Okay, first of all, rude! Second of all, I’m trying my best to understand you, and you’re being an absolute jerk! What do you want me to do?! I literally don’t know how to help you.” His voice pitches up in annoyance as I feel my temple tick at that, feeling annoyed. 

Who is he to tell me that I needed help? 

“I didn’t ask you to help me,” I say. Grace’s brow furrows, and he pouts, crossing his arms. “Well, I want to!” he says, petulant. 

“I don’t need it.” I wave a hand to lean towards him and point at his face. “Stop being a self-sacrificial idiot and do what you want; stop trying to help me, Grace,” I say. 

Grace’s eye twitches at that as I turn around and walk away. 

Grace stands. “You’re being a hypocrite! You’re telling me what to do!” he says as I stop again, groaning as I turn to him. What does he want? What even is the point of this argument? We’re not kids! 

“Grace, just—shut up.” I give him a glare as Grace’s brows basically shoot off his forehead at that. “What did you just say? Did you just tell me to shut up?” Grace asks, looking incredibly offended. 

I groan at that. “Grace, I really don’t want to talk about this,” I say. Grace walks up to me. 

“Well, I want to. I know you’re scared. God damn it, I’m scared too! That’s why I’m here! You didn’t see what I saw!” Grace stomps a foot as he glares at me. “You didn’t see your almost dead body being carried by Eleanor! You didn’t see how you were tied down after just a mistake of shouting at me! I was helpless to it all because I was stuck between two things: my home and the people here in Erid or you!” Grace yells, his eyes slowly turning teary. 

He sniffs. “I felt so guilty because—I was the one who did this to you, and I blamed myself for it! And—and how they treated you? I can’t sleep. I couldn’t sleep at all because I know inside me, and I think, ‘I did this, I ruined his life; I turned him into the same thing that tried to hurt him.’ And you know what? Remember what you did to my arm? I deserve it!” He raises both of his hands in an ‘I give up’ gesture. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” I say, swallowing a large ball of guilt. Suddenly, Grace’s teary eyes turn annoyed at my words.

“And now you get to decide that after all the crap you just said earlier?” Grace gives me a look as I grit my teeth. “Oh, fuck off, Grace.” I waved him off and turned away, but Grace just grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back, forcing me to look at him.

“Don’t turn away; we’re trying to talk here like two civilized people. Are you civilized?” Grace asks. 

“Grace.” I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose as I drop my pillow and my blanket at the side, glaring at him. “Just leave me alone, okay? I don’t want to fight. I just want peace and quiet,” I said.

“That’s the problem: you want peace and quiet, and you turn away at the sight of chaos. Face it, Simon, chaos is part of our lives! You have to face the painful things too! I know how it feels—to feel scared, to turn away the moment danger comes because I know I can’t handle it,” Grace says, his voice dropping.

I scoff.

I admire Grace a lot, but this is just stretching it, really. “You don’t know me,” I said.

Grace huffs. “I think I do… I believe I do. The point is… I just want you home. Back to Erid. Why don’t you want to?” he whispers, his eyes sad.

I stand there. “I can’t—” I stop when Grace looks me in the eyes.

“I don’t want to go back.” I fix my words, and Grace sighs, looking down in defeat. “I don’t want to go back after what happened. I don’t want to go back because now they see me as who I am,” I say, feeling my heart prepared to leap out of my throat.

“You’re still Simon,” Grace said.

“Simon the butcher, the convict. The killer! The traitor! Every single fucking word is there. I’m not a good man, Grace. And they know it. The moment I step back there, I would be marked as death itself,” I said shakily, clenching my fist tightly.

“That’s not true; you don’t know that. What is it with you, Simon? You always think of the worst; you never think of the best that could come! Not everyone is going to turn bad. Not everyone is going to turn on you! You’re in our world now. We aren’t like the people in your world. So please—please, Simon, stop lumping us with those people because we aren’t,” Grace whispers, pleading as I swallow.

I watch Grace wipe the back of his hand on his eyes, sniffing.

I stop and look at him, and suddenly I feel ten times worse. “I’m sorry,” I mutter. 

“No, you aren’t, because later you’ll be thinking of the same thing,” Grace replies as he gives me a sad look.

I bite my lip at that, looking down, shame curling through my gut. “I…” I trail off before I shut my mouth again and decide to just stay quiet.

I have nothing to say. Grace is right.

“Good night, Simon,” Grace sighs—and it feels final when he said those words, turning away from me as he walks back to the hallway, falling over the mattress as I sigh, grabbing my blanket and pillow and walking to the dormitory.

I strapped myself down on the bunk and lay there, staring at the ceiling.

For a while, I just lay there, closing my eyes, trying to sleep. Not before I hear Grace cough from the hallway, and I finally decide.

It’s swallow my dignity or sleep alone with both of us angry at each other.

The monster called me a coward. And it’s right; I am a coward. And it’s using that fact to get to me. 

Maybe Grace is right; I need to start walking forward and not backward.

Like I said. I want to live life without fear. No more living life trying to embrace the fear.

I unbuckle myself quickly, pick up my blanket and pillow, and trudged out of the dormitory and toward the lab. Grace was lying on his side, hugging his pillow, curled up, I can see wet patches on his pillow—my heart clenches at that. His blanket kicked away, and the space where I was supposed to be lying on is completely empty.

I look at him, then I throw my pillow on the mattress, and I can see Grace blearily open his eyes, widening as he turns his head, seeing me. “Si?” he asks as I lay down behind him and wrap my arms around his waist, spooning him. “Sorry,” I murmur behind his ear as Grace shudders.

“For what?” Grace asks.

“For being a jerk and a lot more,” I mumble, and I feel Grace place his hand over mine.

For a moment, we’re quiet. And suddenly Grace is giggling. “We don’t even have a label, and we already had our first fight.” He giggles, shoulders shaking as I just prop my chin over his shoulder with a hum.

“Do you want one?” I ask. 

“A what?” Grace stops laughing, voice shaking.

“A name on what’s happening between us,” I say softly.

I don’t really know what I’m doing…

But I need to stop being a coward. Or else, I’ll miss it.

“Yeah… That would be nice,” Grace whispers. He moves, turning around as he lies on his side, facing me, his eyes glazed over as I place my hand over his hip. But he takes my wrist and guides it to his cheek as he closes his eyes.

“What can it be?” I ask. “Anything really, it’s you,” Grace whispers as I cradle his cheek and snort. “

We can sit on it for now. I don’t really care what is what. I just care who is who. You and me,” I say. Grace opens his eyes at that. “Yeah, me too. You and me?”

I hum.

Grace looks into my eyes as we go quiet.

“I want to go back to Erid tomorrow,” I whisper, and Grace’s eyes widen. “Simon—” he starts, worried. “No… No, it’s not you—but yeah, I mean I guess it’s a bit of you. But you’re right. I don’t want to be scared anymore. I don’t want to be a coward,” I say.

Grace’s eyes lock into mine, soft. “You were never one. You were just scared, Simon. The world’s hurt you enough. I just want you to see that we don’t want to be a part of those who did,” he says. It’s said so tenderly that my heart feels like it wants to leap from my throat, and my body feels warm all over.

“One more day tomorrow; we do all the space stuff. Let’s space walk again tomorrow, and then we go back to Erid the day after,” Grace says.

“Deal,” I reply.

“And… Let’s do everything we want tomorrow as well,” Grace adds.

“I don’t really want to do anything. Do you?” I ask.

Grace hums for a moment. “I am curious about something,” he says. “What is it?” I ask. I watch Grace make an embarrassed face for a moment. “Can I tell you tomorrow so I have time to think about it?” Grace asks.

“Go ahead,” I shrug.

Grace grins. “Thanks.” He leans over and I freeze. Is he—?

He nuzzles his nose into mine before leaning back. “It’s what you call a kunik, not a normal kiss, it can be a form of greeting, buuuut in our case it can still be a kiss,” Grace grins, proud.

I stare back at him, feeling a little shell-shocked.

“You’re weird,” I say, but my face is warm. I can feel Grace’s is too.

—

“You seemed so excited earlier when I gave the idea; now you’re just really nervous,” Grace says with a pout as we spin around in the void while I try my best not to scream. I can see Erid flipping around and the stars as I grow dizzy. At the moment, I am tethered to Grace, his hand against mine as soft music plays from our radio.

“You like the music?” Grace asks as I try to focus on his hands on mine and the gentle tune coming through my ears while he controls our movement. Our bodies fall still as we float there, the tether spinning around my leg as Grace giggles.

“Wait, I’m trying not to vomit in my helmet,” I say with a groan, causing Grace to laugh as I fake gag, which makes him giggle even more.

“Our last spacewalk—well, unless you want to come back up to Mary, I don’t really mind,” Grace murmurs as we spin slowly.

I’m gradually starting to get used to the spinning motion and the sight of Erid and Mary appearing in my field of vision. The tinted helmet helps significantly; it stops me from feeling nauseous from the zero gravity and the onslaught of bright lights and colors.

Erid is beautiful but really bright blue, and Mary is too white.

“Mhm,” I hum.

“Have you danced before? Slow waltz, anything like that?” Grace asks as I shrug, or at least attempt to. I have danced with my mother before; she tried to teach me how, but I never really picked it up.

“Well—doesn’t matter, we’re in zero gravity. Do you want to dance with me?” Grace asks as I stare back into his blue eyes and snort. “Yeah, that would be nice,” I say as Grace moves my hand to his shoulder and clasps my other hand in his. He pulls me closer until our chests are touching—well, as much as they can touch because of how bulky the suits are and our helmets hitting each other.

For a moment, we just spin there, listening to the music. I watch as Grace closes his eyes, humming softly along with the tune.

For a while, I just observe him, not even bothering to care about the music or the planet somehow above us as we slowly continue our spin in the void of nothingness, surrounded by stars and planets.

He looks… beautiful. Like this is his place, here among the stars and planets. He’s the brightest star of them all.

Mom, maybe you were right; I did find the brightest star of them all, and I’m holding it in the palm of my hand.

“You’re beautiful, you know that, right?” My mouth moves before I can even think about it, and Grace’s eyes widen in surprised disbelief as I clamp up. If we had gravity, I would have fallen on my back from how loud I just said that—so loud and certain.

“I—huh?” Grace’s voice turns squeaky.

I breathe out shakily. “Sorry, I—my mother once told me we’d one day see the brightest star of them all… and I never really believed her, but now I think I do. Because I’m looking at the brightest star of them all,” I murmur softly as Grace looks back at me. 

And for a moment, it’s quiet, save for the music.

Grace looks at me. “Let’s make out, kiss, smooch, go at it crazy style. All of the words that means having your lips on mine.” he says, and I let out a confused noise, my brows almost flew off my forehead as my mouth gaped at his words, Grace laughed. “You’re so cute… so poetic too. Let’s make out before we go down; God knows we can’t do crazy stuff down there with everyone hearing us. Please?” Grace pouts at me as I snort, laughing as I lower my head. 

This man is so straight to the point.

“Is that a yes? Laughing is a yes, right? So come on. Don’t tell me you haven't been wanting to!” Grace whines. He crosses his arms as he spins around, pulling me along with him, and I just ragdoll there, groaning.

“Unlike you, I have great admiration and respect for you. I never imagined ‘making out’ with you,” I quote with my fingers, and Grace gasps, making a mockingly hurt face with a hand over his chest. “But I did… but who knows? You look really handsome, okay? And I’ve been alone for so long; you can’t blame me. I’m 42 and have been single for a long time now,” Grace jokes as I snort, shaking my head while floating away from him as much as the tether allows.

Then Grace grabs the tether connecting us and pulls me toward him. “Come on, please?” Grace asks, pouting. I just roll my eyes and sigh. “Hey, that was a big sigh! Am I the only one thinking this is a big deal?” Grace jokes with a grin as I place a hand on Grace’s waist.

Grace is undeniably strange, but somehow I admire him more for that.

“Okay. If you want to. But it's not like you’re going to stop asking for it even if we’re back in Erid.” I shrug tiredly as Grace’s eyes widen and his face turns a deep red. “Re-Really? I mean, it’s fine if you don’t want to—” Grace stutters, looking extremely nervous but at the same time excited.

He’s an easy person to read when it comes to something like this, I suppose. It’s like he’s willing to let me see whatever is on his mind. 

The change from our EVA suit to our jumpsuit was pretty quick; Grace somehow can be quick apparently. Suddenly, we’re back in the lab, Grace’s hand on mine as we sit on the floor, a laptop on the side playing some movie that I don’t really care about. 

Because right now, I care about the heat coming from Grace’s palm as I hold it loosely. I turn his hand around and look at it. It’s lithe and smooth, with a bit of callus on some parts. Most of all, Grace takes care of himself (sometimes). 

“You’re that kind of guy, huh? You got a thing for hands?” Grace asks as I give him a look at that. A what now?

“You know… kinks?” Grace grins. I just sigh and let go of his hand. “No, no, no, I was kidding!” Grace laughs, throwing his head back as he grabs both of my hands and tries to pull me close.

“Come on, please, Si. I’ve been… dreaming about this for so long. Can’t you let little old me experience at least a kiss from you here?” Grace asks, tapping his lip as I snort. 

Of course I can. I didn’t waste any time really; one thing about Grace is that he has a slow response time, maybe because of the lack of rest he has. But I gave him a small kiss on the lips—not long enough for it to be heated but not short enough that I can’t feel the warmth from it. I knelt over Grace, who lets out a noise, bringing both of his hands to cup my face as I hold his shoulders, leaning over him as I tilt my head.

I enjoy the feeling of his lips on mine—and it makes my mouth water; it’s a bit worrisome. Anything being placed closer to my mouth tends to have a response—that’s what I really get for being used to being fed by blood. So I kept my mouth closed when Grace tried to lick my lower lip; it was time to stop the kiss before I accidentally bit him.

Grace lets out a shaky breath as I pull back. His eyes were closed, now slowly opening as I sit on my knees, giving him a small smile. “Is it how you imagined it?” I ask, and Grace’s face turns redder as he rubs his face.

“M-Much better than how I imagined it,” Grace laughs, giving me a shaky glance as I snort. I let Grace intertwine our fingers.

“You want another?” I ask, mostly to tease and make fun of him, but Grace just hides his face with his other hand. “I think… I need to get drunk before that happens,” he says.

I roll my eyes. “And vomit all over the place before we leave? Very charming… Well, I can’t stop you really. But you mentioned you want to tell me something too, right? If you’re drunk, you’ll forget about it.” I sit down, crossing my legs together as Grace blushes.

He looks away, then back at me. “I need a drink. Badly,” he says.

I sigh. “I’ll get some vodka then, and I need to eat too.” I stand.

“Wait—can you not do that first? We’re going to do some kissing, some smooching—come on.” Grace pouts, and I give him a look at that. This man is just so… I can’t even find a word for it anymore. 

“I can just eat on the way and brush my teeth,” I say. 

“Si. Pleeeease?” Grace says again, and I sigh. My stomach rumbles, but I nod anyway. I should learn to control myself with food anyway.

—

“This is nice,” Grace says beside me. We cleaned around Mary before deciding to find a place to relax, so we just sat down on the spot where our shared mattress had been for many nights and lay there while Grace sipped from his vodka baggie—looks like I’ll end up being the one to carry the mattress back to the bunk when Grace gets drunk to hell and back. 

We’ve cleaned around as much as we can. Mary is basically back to being spotless and looks like how it did the first time I woke up here. “It is,” I said with a hum as we both lay there, staring at the ceiling. 

“I’m not forcing you to go back, right? I—I didn’t mean to sound like you have no choice,” Grace starts. I turn my head to him. 

“No. Not really. I guess you did just wake me up a bit. Add a slap there too if that’s possible,” I said. 

Grace turns to me, grinning, the straw loose between his lips. “Yeah?” he asks. 

“Mhm,” I murmur as I turn to my side, leaning my weight on the palm of my hand as I watch Grace drink slowly. 

I lay there, just watching as Grace stared up at the ceiling. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen a person before,” Grace whispers as he turns to me. “I’m glad it was you,” he says, and I snort at that. 

“What were you expecting?” I ask. 

Grace shrugs. “When I heard there was a submarine in space, I knew it was human-made. I mean, I can’t think of another life form making a submarine. But… I was worried because Erid isn’t prepared for any… I don’t know—if there are other humans coming here, I’m just worried that they’d try to… do something to the Eridians. I care for them a lot, and I sent the probes back to Earth, and I know they wouldn’t really try to come here; it’s light-years away for god's sakes. But I thought… Overall I was pretty worried.” He shrugs. 

“I understand.” I nodded, and Grace smiles at me. “Want some?” He offers the vodka. I take it from his hand. “I don’t really like the taste,” I said, but I drank anyway, just a sip, and made a face before handing it back to Grace. 

“It’s not that bad; if you get used to it, it gets really better,” Grace sighs, smiling at me dreamily. 

He’s already drunk, this guy… 

Grace goes quiet, drinking quietly, chewing on the straw as he turns towards me, laying on his side. 

“Kiss me?” Grace asks. 

“You stopped me from feeding because of the blood; you’re drinking something I don’t like. Why should I?” I ask, as Grace pouts, his eyes glazed over, but I know well he’s still there. 

“Please?” Grace asks. 

I lean over him, moving closer as Grace lays on his back, and I move above him, just leaning over as Grace pulls the straw off his mouth, and I kiss the corner of his mouth lightly. I hear him hum, his hand clumsily grabbing the front of my jumpsuit as he tries to pull me closer. 

But I just stay there; I don’t let him pull me closer, and Grace lets out a whine. “On the lips,” he whines, thumping his feet on the mattress. I snort as I kiss the side of his chin, his stubble scratching mine, then I switch to kissing his cheek, his nose, his forehead, and his eye.

“Don’t like vodka. Seems fair since you didn’t let me eat,” I murmur as I lean back. 

Grace looks up at me, a small strange glint in his eyes. “You can,” he whispers, his hands moving to my chest, grabbing the zipper and unzipping my jumpsuit slightly, placing a hand on my chest, running it over my undershirt as I give him a look. 

“I’d have to leave to get one,” I said—feeling a little too lazy to even stand. Grace is warm, and I want to keep looking at him like this. 

“No, not that, here.” Grace grins, tilting his head to show his neck as my brows raise at that. Grace's hands leave my chest, and he unzips his own jumpsuit. I lean back as Grace sits up, pulling the sleeve of his jumpsuit down to his waist, leaving him in a shirt as he lays back, giving me a waiting look. 

“Is this what you were talking about?” I ask with a sigh, placing a hand on his chest, trailing a finger as I feel the strong pounding of his heart. Grace does the same with mine, trailing his hands on my chest, to my waist, to my shoulder, then cupping my cheeks and reaching over to touch my hair, pushing it back. 

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” Grace whispers as I trail a finger to the skin on his neck; his skin is pale—not in a sickly way, it’s beautiful. 

Grace lets out a heavy breath as I trace my hand down to his arm, feeling the scar he got from Rocky. Then I eyed the scar he got from me. It isn’t as large as Rocky’s, but it looks like an animal mauled him. 

I didn’t know how to bite properly that time, and Grace was the first one to experience being bitten again and again. I don’t remember, but I know well I bit him more than once in that area because I couldn’t break the skin properly. My body was focused on nourishing it to stop itself from dying. 

Grace looks at where I was looking, then he moves his hand to cup my cheek and slowly pulls me closer against his lips.

“I want you to do it again. I trust you,” Grace whispers as our lips meet. Our lips move in tandem, his hands holding the back of my hair, tugging it lightly as I let out a sharp breath. He stops, but I reach over to tap his elbow, telling him I want him to keep doing it.

Grace lets out a small, unabashed moan as I drag my teeth on his lower lip—my canines are slowly coming out. I try to lean back, but Grace keeps my head there as he licks my upper lip, and I part my mouth slightly as Grace doesn’t waste any time licking the roof of my mouth.

I feel so dizzy, both with hunger and the fact that Grace is here. I can feel him, I can feel him all over me. It makes me hot all over, and I want to hold him down and take everything from him; it makes me so hungry.

Grace lets out a few sounds that I can’t believe he could make: a whimper, a moan. It makes me want to swallow it all up. It makes me feel special to be able to hear all of those sounds.

Grace runs his tongue over my canine as I let out a shaky breath, our tongues meeting in between as I slowly lean back. This time, Grace doesn’t stop me. A web of saliva snaps between us as I stare back at Grace’s face. It is red—his breaths coming out in pants, and he opens his eyes, glazed over.

“‘Twas good,” Grace says, still catching his breath, as he tickles the back of my neck with his finger, tracing a star on my skin while I stay there. 

Grace blinks a couple of times, and I let him catch his breath. 

He then eyes my mouth, his pupils are large and glazed—he looks beautiful. “Your teeth were…” he says, breathless. “I’m really hungry… And… Anything that comes close to my mouth, it just reacts like that.” I whisper, feeling a bit ashamed at my lack of practice.

Grace smiles. “I said what I said; you can do it. I trust you.” He tilts his head to the side again as I let out a groan, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look at me. “No way,” I say.

“Yes way. I made sure it was safe. You know how to do it; I know that you know. You know that you know,” Grace says as I frown down at him. 

It’s different. It’s Grace… and he wants me to do it on his neck? No… too dangerous. Just no—

“I trust you. Please, Simon, I want it. I really do,” Grace murmurs as I lean over to kiss his cheek, breathing heavily as my teeth ache to be put on Grace’s skin—even if I refuse to think about it.

I still remember how I dug my teeth into his skin—the sweetness, the warmth. 

It’s different from the cloned blood bags. It’s Grace; I know that well. The taste is the same, but it isn’t him. The heat is wrong. It’s Grace but not.

“Can’t…” I can’t help but whimper as I nose his neck, and I feel Grace slip his hand underneath my shirt, tracing it over my chest, to my stomach, to my waist. I shiver. He’s so warm; I love it. I love it a lot.

“You can,” Grace murmurs next to my ear as I breathe harshly over the skin of his neck. “Can’t…” I whisper, feeling scared as Grace hums, bringing his hand behind my head, running his fingers through my messed-up hair. He slowly helps me onto my back and straddles over me. 

“You ever had a hickey? I can do the same thing with you, to keep it fair,” Grace murmurs as I feel the heat from his body transfer to mine. I can’t help but let out a shaky moan as I hold onto his waist and let him map his hands around me, touching my neck, my chest, my shoulders, and my arms.

I do the same thing.

Grace looks good above me. He looks… like a god. In a way, I can’t help but now agree with the Eridian cultists about Grace. He does look like a god.

I try to push back the embarrassment and shame as I slip my hand under his shirt. His stomach is cold, and I rub my hand over it as Grace shivers, leaning close to me as he captures my mouth again. Our lips make noises I could call disgusting, but it was Grace. He’s never disgusting.

Then he tilts my head, grabbing it with his free hand, and his lips attach to my neck. I let out a shaky breath, closing my eyes. 

I felt a pinch, the skin between his teeth held loosely. Then he sucks.

It was a small pain, not too crazy compared to everything I’ve experienced. It feels good—his hair tickles my neck and the side of my cheek, and the feeling of his body against mine makes me feel hot all over as I focus on that area.

Grace’s lips on my neck make me feel it stronger than normal.

Oh, fuck.

I swallow, breathing out shakily, almost a moan as Grace hums. He stopped sucking and kissed the area where he had sucked, licking it a bit as he leans back, looking proud. I look up at him.

It feels like my mind is turning into nothing but mush; my thoughts feel slow as Grace rubs his thumb on the area where he sucked. He kisses my lips again, our lips smacking loudly as I place a hand to cradle his face, holding him there longer as I lick his lips. He tastes like vodka—bitter, crazily bitter. But it’s Grace. I love it. Fuck.

“Think you can do it like how I did?” Grace says between kisses. It’s then I realize he doesn’t have his glasses on. We must have knocked them somewhere all the moving and rolling we’re doing here in the hall. 

I’m somehow thankful it’s just us two. But there is a camera by the lab, and it’s pointed towards our direction. I try not to let that get to me. I don’t think Grace is a pervert, but knowing how weird he gets, he’ll definitely extract that and take it for himself.

“Yeah… yeah… I’m hungry; I can do it,” I say. I don’t want to be a coward anymore. I have Grace.

I don’t let Grace think or even realize what I’m doing as I grab his waist and flip us over. I kneel over him, not placing my weight as I kiss his mouth, letting him lick my lip as I grab his hand, and I lean back, kissing the scar I gave him slowly. 

I’ve already apologized verbally, and I know if I apologize again, Grace would get annoyed, and we’ll lose the momentum. So I do this instead. I hear Grace let out a shuddering breath as I kiss his scar from elbow down to his wrist, then to his pulse point on his inner wrist, kissing the palm of his hand before the back of it. 

“Was that another sorry?” Grace whispers. 

“Mhm,” I hum and lean back to kiss Grace’s mouth heatedly. Grace lets out a broken moan, and I close my eyes to enjoy the feeling. Not before I hear sniffing. I open them again and lean back; Grace opens his eyes, red-rimmed. “What’s wrong?” I ask him as Grace shakes his head, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he lets out a small shaky sob when he opens his lips. 

Did I hurt him? “No—I…” Grace whispers. “It’s been so long… I don’t know… this makes me really happy,” he whispers as I hold him there. 

I let out a shaky breath at that as Grace wipes his tears, but they just keep coming. I reach over to wipe them for him as Grace drops his hands on my waist while I wipe his face, then kiss it. “Me too,” I whisper. “I don’t think I’ve experienced this before.” 

“Me too… me too,” Grace whispers brokenly as he closes his eyes and I let out a small breath. 

“I’m going to be bad at this, Grace. I really will.” 

“Me too. Do you really think I’m better than you?” Grace opens his eyes as I cradle his face. I nod, then Grace gives me a shaky grin, but I shake my head. Because that was the truth. Grace may be smart in technicality, but I know well he isn’t smart in this part.

“I guess we’re both going to be shit at it,” I whisper. “At least I get to do it with you.” Grace murmurs, looking down at my lips as he leans up to kiss me. I let him grab the front of my shirt as we go back to how we’re doing. 

Our lips meet; he kisses my cheek, then my neck to where he bruised it, and I do the same. I can feel him shudder strongly below me as I open my mouth to gently rake my canine over Grace’s skin on his neck, and he lets out a breathless moan. “Oh…” he whispers, hands flying to my waist, holding it tight. 

I don’t feel any pain from it; I can feel him clench and unclench his hand on my waist as I continue to rake my teeth over his neck. 

“Still want it?” I nuzzle his neck to ask, leaning there as Grace breathes out. “Fuck yes,” he whispers—almost whimpering—as I grin. “Language.” I lean back, and Grace opens his eyes to glare at me weakly. 

“Fudge you too,” he says as I let out a small chuckle, my shoulders shaking. 

As I’m about to lean over, “I love you,” Grace whispers, and I pause. Everything feels like it stops as I lean back to look into his eyes. They are wet again with tears. “I think I have been ever since you came here. I don’t love you because you’re the only human here. I don’t really care about that,” he whispers.

“I love you because you’re you—so beautiful, imperfect, so… so you.” Grace swallows. “I can say more, but I think you’re getting a bit excited.” He brings a hand to my cheek, his thumb parting my lip open as he places it on my elongated canine, adding pressure as I shiver, feeling like my nerves are alight from that touch. 

“You couldn’t start with that first before all of this?” I ask. 

“Had to drink first because I get really nervous or I’ll vomit all over you,” Grace grins as I roll my eyes. 

I can’t believe this man at all.

“And a hangover is better?” I ask. “At least it's because of a drink. I can’t just vomit all over you because I was nervous. Did you know before I presented my—” Grace rambles. Now I can see he’s getting sober; the vodka is losing its effect, and he’s getting nervous.

I cut him off with a kiss on the lips to shut him up. Grace lets out a choked noise at that, giggling as I nip at his lower lip lightly, not enough for pain to register. “I love you too,” I said quickly. Grace’s eyes opened wide at that—eyes lighting up. I paid it no mind.

I slid my lips over to his neck, kissing his skin. 

For a moment, I stayed still. I don’t want to be a coward anymore. I don’t want to be.

I feel Grace comb his hand over my hair, his other hand on my waist, holding me. “It’s okay,” Grace murmurs beside my ear as I let out a shaky breath. My stomach rumbles, and before I knew it, my teeth fully extract, copper fills my mouth, and my teeth pierce Grace’s neck—

Grace lets out a choked, pained noise, his hand holding my hair tight as I hold there. “O—Oh, shit,” Grace moans, and I feel his hand getting looser over me, his breath catching. I try my best to be slower, but I want to taste Grace again. The real Grace. Not some cloned blood of his.

I suck, and Grace shivers under me, letting out a high-pitched moan. I can feel him squirming.

I let out a small annoyed groan as I grab both his wrists and hold him down. Grace lets out a whimper at that, his knees raising up as if he wants to kick something before they fall limp behind me, and Grace lets out small noises.

Heat fills me. Not just from the blood.

He tastes good—really fucking good. Like my mother’s hot chocolate. Sweet and warm, and it fills my body and my heart. It makes me feel complete as I suck and suck. Grace is pliant under me, breathing softly, moaning as I slowly and carefully pull my teeth off of Grace.

I look at the puncture wound—it’s small, not something I expected from my teeth when they looked so large, like a wolf's canine teeth. But somehow it’s smaller.

Blood comes out from the wound, and I lean over to lick it again and again. Grace shivers at that until I assume my saliva made his blood clot and it stops. My lips are stained with Grace’s blood as I tiredly lick at it.

Looks like I still need practice.

I lean back and look down at Grace, whose eyes are glazed. “Holy shit. Feels like getting high… That feels so good,” Grace lets out a moan as he shakily presses a hand on the area where I bit him. 

I kiss his mouth, and he moans. He licks the blood from the corner of my mouth—it makes me feel hot all over.

“So good. You did so good,” Grace whispers again and again, and I feel like a dog feeling proud of something as simple as eating.

For a moment, we just kissed each other—not heated anymore. Just pecks around the face, the neck, the cheek, and the nose.

We’re now just enjoying our lips against each other, and we eventually end up lying on our side. Grace’s back on my chest as I hold onto him, nosing his neck as I lay there and he breathes quietly.

“How did it feel?” I whisper, feeling tired. A good tired. I want to sleep right here, right next to Grace.

“Good. So good,” Grace murmurs. He’s still coming down from his high. Whatever venom I had, Grace wasn’t really lying that it makes things much better for whoever I’m feeding from. It’s clearly strong enough to render anyone weak and pliant, just like Grace.

Then he turns his body slowly—I help him meet me half way as he flops there, hair messed up, standing in different directions. He looks fulfilled and happy—and it makes me happy too, meeting my eyes. “See? I told you, you can do it,” he whispers. 

“It didn’t hurt?” I ask.

“It did for a moment, but after that, it felt amazing. It’s like… getting high. I felt heat enter my body. I still have some of your venom in the lab; I definitely want to test the effects of it because I feel like I just hit a bong,” Grace says, his words slurring a bit.

“Or you’re just drunk,” I said.

“Nope,” Grace pops the "p" with a grin as he looks back at me, glazed.

“It’s not like the first time, right?” I whisper, worried.

“Mhm. You definitely practiced. Did you imagine the blood bag is me?” Grace wiggles his brows at me as I roll my eyes at him. 

He can never really take things seriously, can he?

We fall silent. I wait for Grace to come down from the effects of the venom, and I can easily notice it. His eyes get less glazed over, and his hands become less clumsy as he holds me.

“I’m not a coward anymore,” I whisper.

Grace looks into my eyes. “You never were one.”

I snort at that as I thump my forehead onto his chest, and his hand moves to the back of my neck and holds me there.

For a while, we lay there.  

“Can’t believe we made out on Mary. On the floor too!” Grace says. “Mary, did you get that on record?” he asks.  

“Yes, I did, Dr. Grace. The video is extractable anytime. Video time check is 1 hour and 45 minutes,” Mary replies above us as I groan and Grace giggles.  

“You are so freaking weird, Grace,” I mutter.  

“Ryland,” Grace says.  

I raise my head to meet his eyes. “Can you call me Ryland?” Grace asks.  

I blink for a moment.  

“Okay… Ryland,” I say slowly, and Grace grins.  

“Does that mean I get your last name as mine?” I ask, mostly as a tease, but Grace’s eyes basically said I implanted a new idea in him. 

—

I wake up to a faint light in my eyes—I groan a little. Did I forget to pull the blinds over the window last night?  

“Mhm.” I hear a groan behind me as I move. I turn my head to see Grace, his face buried in the back of my neck, his arm loosely holding my waist as I lay back, getting comfortable again.  

“What time is it?” Ryland mumbles as I turn to face him. He lets me adjust as our legs intertwine. I can feel Ryland’s leg moving around mine, holding me there as he lays his head over my chest, burying it there.  

I eye the marks all over Ryland’s neck, feeling a bit warm as I can still taste the sweetness under my tongue from last night, along with the sounds coming from his mouth.  

“Too early, but too bright,” I say as I make myself comfortable back in the sheets (which somehow are all around Ryland. One thing I learned about sleeping in the same bed as him is that he takes the blanket, pillows, everything at night. I’m in a losing game because I can’t wake up).  

Ryland snorts.  

I glance at the clock—it’s already 8:45 AM. Ryland has class today… he’s pretty late.  

“It’s about to hit 9. Don’t you have class today?” I ask after a few beats.  

Ryland doesn’t respond, then he sits up, grabbing his glasses from the nightstand. “Shit—” He falls back down onto the bed.  

I sit up, stretching. “Language,” I say as I watch him run out of the room, almost tripping over nothing, and I shake my head at that.  

I stretch my arms over my head before looking over at the nightstand and seeing a necklace—rather, the necklace Rocky made and forced Grace to give to me the moment we stepped back onto Eridian soil (or I guess the bio-dome’s soil?). I snort under my breath and reach over, clasping it around my neck.  

Time to get ready for the day, I suppose. I let out a last yawn and jump off the bed.