Chapter Text
The screen fills with static for a moment, grey and white and black pixels dancing across the device before the image finally shifts into focus. A woman sits at a desk, neatly organized documents and folders placed meticulously across the wood. She has her hands crossed in her lap, her face shifting for a moment from a neutral lack of care to a momentary amount of shock and distant recognition before returning once more to its original neutral position.
“Dr. Grace?” The woman asks in greeting, recognition in her eyes. Despite the front she puts on, there is a sorrow that seems to be set in her features. It had been some time since Ryland had seen her, and though it had only been some years for him, it had been decades for her and the rest of Earth.
“Stratt!” Ryland cheerily replies, shifting the laptop in front of him, fidgeting. It had taken months for the Eridians and Ryland to engineer the device he held in his hands. Calling it a laptop was… generous. The Eridians had dismantled one of the several laptops that had been sent aboard the Hail Mary in an attempt to understand human engineering and further their own scientific understanding. Ryland had overheard several Eridian engineers remark on the simplicity of the device's inner workings – which had made Ryland laugh. Upon further discovery, the Eridians had asked if Ryland would be willing to allow them to “do a few minor modifications” on the device as a bit of an experiment. He had happily and easily agreed.
It was three (Earth) months later that Rocky had come barreling into his cottage, interrupting the peaceful morning Simon and he had been attempting to enjoy before Ryland was to teach a lesson. Rocky had scuttled in, exclaiming with excitement about the newest breakthrough between human and Eridian technology. At first Ryland had brushed it off, and in his defense, he felt it was fair to do so. Rocky had similarly burst in for multiple ‘breakthroughs’ that had really just been minuscule advances, such as being able to weld together a hard drive and some xenonite plating.
Ryland had quickly been proven wrong as a particularly perturbed Rocky had practically dragged him across the dome to the research center they had constructed. Most of the equipment from the Hail Mary had been brought here for Ryland to experiment with, allowing the scientist to tinker when a particular bout of boredom or an idea struck. On the Earth-based atmosphere side, there were several Eridians in their xenonite suits surrounding a workbench where the laptop had previously been disassembled. The engineers had had to keep the laptop within the Earth atmosphere because, as they had learned very early on, a large portion (nearly all) of the materials Ryland’s belongings were made of melted within the Eridian atmosphere.
After Rocky had forced Ryland to the front of the small group, the Eridian gestured with re-established excitement to the device before them. It had been displaying a news broadcast that bewildered Ryland.
“What am I looking at, Rocky?” He had asked, bending to lean on his cane, shifting his glasses further up his nose to better see the headline. It read:
“Breaking News: Beetles From Hail Mary Ship to Return to Earth, Solve Astrophage Dimming?”
Rocky had let out a trilling hum, the noise echoing in the metal lab. Ryland stood in silence for some time before taking in a sharp breath.
“Is- Is this live? Is this- Oh geez, is this a live feed?!” He had exclaimed, hands shaking at his sides as he whirled to face Rocky, cane falling from his grasp as he stumbled back in shock. “Is that… did you find a way to reach Earth's television signals?”
His voice was breathless, astonished by the sheer signal the tiny laptop must be putting out. Rocky had hummed an affirmative, going on to explain the workings of the communicator – as the team had begun to call it – at a speed by which Ryland was unable to keep up. His head was spinning, stuck on the sheer fact that there was now a way to connect with Earth once more, albeit one way. But still!
It had taken some time for Ryland to calm and many more (Earth) weeks for the Eridians to figure out a way for two-way contact, but they had done it. Which brought them to now, where Ryland was sitting with the not-laptop-communicator-device in one corner of the lab, staring into a screen that was showing him his former boss.
“How’s it goin’?” Ryland asked, smirking softly at the vague discomfort he could see settling into Stratt’s posture. Sure, it was not kind of him to be relishing in her upset, but he felt that if there was anyone who could be allowed this bit of malice, it was him. After everything Ryland had been through, he felt it reasonable to relish in her upset.
“I am fine.” She states quickly, glancing off momentarily, looking back to the screen once more. Her face seemed to attempt to return to a cold neutral, but even after years of distance, Ryland was able to read her as though they had been working together just yesterday. She seemed confused, and the lilt in her voice indicated it more than anything. “How, exactly, are you contacting me at this moment? Are you not on Erid? The ‘beetles’ you had sent back stated you would be on the home planets of the alien you had met?”
Ryland leaned back, fidgeting with his glasses and placing them atop his head before moving them once more back to rest on the bridge of his nose, then repeating the motion once more.
“Sure am! And man, you would not believe the kind of tech the Eridians can make with the stuff that we’ve got! I mean, they were able to adapt a laptop to broadcast across light-years of space! Not to mention the different materials and nutrients we were able to synthesize over time with-”
“Yes, yes, that does make sense.” She cuts him off as she settles back into her desk chair as well. Ryland lets out a soft huff at the action. He hadn’t expected much to change from his days working with her, but he did not miss Stratt cutting him off mid-sentence, not by any means. “I would love to speak with them, if that is a possibility. The Eridians, I mean.”
Ryland sat for a moment, thinking of how that would likely pan out. There had been a translator automatically uploaded into the communicator once two-way communication had been established; that way, if any Eridian was to communicate with a Human back on Earth, there would be very little difficulty due to a language barrier. Ryland thought of what it would be like for an uncensored Rocky or Adrian to be brought onto the call to speak with Stratt. It likely would be a long series of curses followed by a longer series of threats followed by another series of curses.
…Yeah, maybe not a bright idea.
“That’s something that could be arranged, but they uh, might not be too happy to uh, speak to you in particular?” Ryland says awkwardly, shifting his glasses to his chin and letting them dangle there for a bit. “They uh, might not be very nice, I mean.”
Stratt’s face shifts for a moment, her posture straightening some.
“Why is that?”
“See, the Eridians seem to, y’know, really like me and overall I’ve gotten to know them pretty well. And from this we’ve… talked about some things and they just… aren’t super happy with the way things ended up for me. On Earth, I mean.” They sit in an awkward silence for a moment, Stratt staring blankly into the camera as Ryland attempts to simply focus on the feeling of his glasses gently swaying where they hang from his chin still.
“Alright, that is understandable. I can contact someone else to stand in on the line if that is what we require.” Stratt says it matter-of-factly. Like it should simply be the most obvious series of actions that they would go through.
Ryland can’t help it. He scoffs, pulling his glasses from his chin and pressing them harshly back onto his face.
“Is that seriously all you have to say about this?” A sort of disdain is curling in Ryland’s gut. After everything he had been through, all that Stratt was going to do was bulldoze past it? Act as though forcing him onto a spaceship, away from his home, away from his family, away from the planet was just what? A speed bump in communication?!
“I am not sure that I have anything else to say on this, Dr. Grace. I took the course of action I saw best fit. I do not hold any resentment toward you or the Eridians for having disdain for me and my actions. I was simply doing my job. It was difficult, and a hard call to make, but that is my job. It was what I was appointed to do. Make the calls others would not have been able to execute.” They sit once more in silence once she has finished speaking. They’re both tense, and for a brief moment Ryland entertains the idea of simply walking away from the call and from her. He imagines the momentary shock on Stratt’s face as he would stand and leave. He relishes the idea of finally getting to spite her in some small way.
However, a larger part of Ryland understands what she is saying. He has understood the requirements of his position on the Hail Mary since he first remembered the mission's goal. He could not deny that Stratt had been correct that, in the end, Ryland would do the right thing. This part of Ryland can find comfort in the woman across him on the screen, regardless of the turmoil she had put him through. Not because she was his coworker, or his companion, but rather because-
“It’s comforting to know that not much about you has changed.” He blurts out, laughing to himself, shaking his head slightly, rubbing at his brow.
“I’m glad.” She states, Ryland scoffs, looking away from the screen to stare off in the lab. “I am not being fictitious, Dr. Grace. Though you may not wish to believe it, I do not find comfort in causing others distress.”
“That’s so believable from where I’m sitting.” Ryland snarks, rolling his eyes and shifting his glasses once more. Stratt huffs at the comment before sighing, leaning back into her desk chair once more. Her posture is still not relaxed; Ryland doesn’t believe he’s ever seen her relax before; sometimes he’s not even certain the woman blinks! She is, however, less guarded, her faux-emotionless cocoon falling.
“I am… aware that I have not shown much kindness to you in years past, Dr. Grace, and for what little it may now be worth, I would wish to apologize.” Ryland’s eyes jolt up to the screen quickly, boring holes into the other humans' eyes. A sharp shock goes through him at the words, and the little breath that had been in Ryland's body seems to escape.
He never had thought he’d hear those words from her, never even expected them. To be quite honest, Ryland wasn’t sure he had even entertained the idea of Stratt apologizing being an option among the umpteen ways this conversation could unfold.
“I was made aware shortly after the launch of the Hail Mary that you, in fact, had family, and it is with my utmost regret that I wish to apologize for the distress I have caused to them.” Stratt barrels on, seemingly ignoring the blue screen that has become Ryland’s conscious thoughts.
Because… What? No, like actually, what? What was happening right now? Not only had the unthinkable of Stratt apologizing – to Ryland Grace no less! – she was apologizing on behalf of his family? Was the lady mad? What the frick was she talking about?
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand what my family has to do with this? I mean, I guess, I don’t really get why that’s something you’re apologizing for? I mean, sure, drugging me against my will, erasing my memories, and sending me on a suicide mission? Okay sure! But… My brothers?” Ryland takes a deep breath, trying not to let the insurmountable amount of grief that inevitably filled him at the mention of either of his brothers wash over him. “I mean, if you know about them, you know that Court died in prison when Colt and I were in our late teens and uh…” He takes a sharper breath, blinking away tears quickly.
“You know Colt had an accident in Sydney a day or so before I was put onto the Hail Mary, which resulted in his death, so…” He trails off with a shrug, looking anywhere but the screen. He’s pretty sure if Stratt was to even look at him funny, he would break down in tears. Ryland had done his best since first remembering his brother’s existence to not allow much thought on them. The longer he dwelled on their deaths, the harder it had been for him to find much of any reason to continue with the mission at hand.
“Oh… Oh, Ryland.” He hears Stratt breathe. The sound of his first name from her sends a shiver down his spine. He’s not certain he’s ever heard her call him that before. He’s certain he never wants to hear it again after this.
“Oh, there’s no need for first names; it’s all good!” He lets out a slightly watery laugh, swiping at his eyes quickly. He really didn’t want to dwell on this; why did she have to bring it up? “I’ve made my peace with it, really!”
“Ryla- Dr. Grace, you misunderstand. Your brothers are alive. I’ve met them.” She says it so matter-of-factly that for a split second, he has a bit of hope. It’s fleeting.
“Please, please don’t try to make me feel better by lying to me.” He tries to say it strongly, but even to his own ears his words sound more like desperate begging.
“I swear to you, I am not lying. I would not do that, after everything else I have done to you. I truly have met them. They came to find me on the project site after having learned that you were placed on the mission team. They were rather displeased to hear of your departure from Earth and quickly came to realize it likely was not voluntary. They both had rather choice words on the matter... It was quite unsettling, if I am to be honest. Seeing your face again after the way I ended things. Even if it technically was not your face.” She says the last part as though it is a joke. Like the world’s most Earth-shattering (Erid-shattering?) news wasn’t just delivered to Ryland as he’s sat in the corner of a lab, hundreds of light-years from Earth.
From his family.
Oh goodness, he still had a family. He still had brothers! He wasn’t entirely alone like he had thought! Ryland still had his brothers!
His brothers who were, again, hundreds of light-years away from him on a whole other planet. A planet he never would be able to visit again. Because he had gone back to save Rocky under the belief that he would have had nothing to return to on Earth. In his mind, his brothers had been dead, long buried by the time he had had to choose between his planet and what was, at the time, his only companion.
Ryland had chosen to save Rocky because it was the best thing to do, but it was also selfish, because he missed his best friend. But now? Sure, Ryland may have brothers, a family; maybe they had even started families themselves, he would never know. Because Ryland simply couldn’t go home.
His heart shattered.
“I’m needed somewhere actually; I’ll have one of the Eridian scientists come speak to you,” Ryland says, as evenly as he can manage, as he pushes himself to his feet. Distantly, he registers Stratt saying something else, then barking a command to what is likely a federal agent on her end of the line. Ryland finds an utter lack of care in him at the moment as he stumbles from the lab. His stomach churns violently, head spinning as he rushes from the lab, brushing past working Eridians as he flees.
He wants to go home. He can’t go home. He wants his brothers. He wants his home. He can’t have them; he knows that now.
He’s breathing heavy by the time he reaches the small porch of Simon and his beach-side cottage. He’s not certain how long he stands there before he wrenches open the door, stumbling a few steps inside, gasping for any air that he can get, but it simply does not seem to come.
In an instant, Simon is there, hands held out in front of him, trying to placate the other.
“Grace?” He tries, the name falling upon deaf ears. “Grace, angel, what’s wrong?” He tries, shuffling forward some, arms open for the other. Ryland’s head shoots up quickly, and for a moment, Simon thinks he’s trying to say something as the other’s mouth falls open. Rather, a shattering wail escapes him instead. Ryland’s knees seem to buckle, and the teacher goes tumbling forwards.
He would have collapsed onto the hall floor if not for Simon quickly darting out to steady him.
“Oh God, Grace….” Simon sighs, holding Ryland close and trying to soothe him through his cries. At some point, Ryland's wails turn to sobs before morphing into angry, drawn-out shouts that seem to tear at the man’s throat. Simon can only attempt to calm him, rocking gently back and forth, running his hair through Grace’s hair and gently attempting to soothe him with kind words. Though these actions seem to have little effect, eventually Ryland wears himself out, simply allowing silent tears to fall from his eyes.
Simon is unaware just how long he sits with the other, soothing him slowly as Ryland comes back to himself in time. It takes several attempts for him to get the other to catch his breath, using breathing exercises Ryland had taught him when he had first been brought aboard the Hail Mary and still would panic at the slightest sound or shift.
After some time, Simon situates them to be sat across from one another in the hallway, legs tangled in a mess between them. He takes Ryland's hands in his own, bringing them up to press soft kisses to his palms before letting them rest once more between them.
“Ry? Can you tell me what happened?” He softly tries to press. Simon had seen Ryland cry many times before. The teacher seemed to be rather in tune with his emotions and often let himself express them with his tears. Whether it be from relief or pain or joy, Ryland had always allowed himself the grace to express himself through his tears.
What Simon had not often seen was Ryland break. Sure, the man got frustrated, bitter, tired, and spent, but never once had Simon seen his angel break down to this extent. Never.
His eyes trace along Ryland’s face, noting the sheer exhaustion that seemed to be weighing on him. And, if Simon were to give it a gander, he would go so far as to say there was grief there as well. He watches as Ryland takes a sharp breath in before easing it out once more. Their eyes meet for a moment before Ryland begins to explain.
“You uh, know how the engineering team has been trying to find a way to develop two-way communication with Earth?” The blond starts. Simon nods, gesturing for him to continue. “We had chosen today to, uh, make our first true call with them. Do you remember when I explained FaceTime calls to you? Yeah? Okay, so we – well, I – made one with, uh, Stratt.” He says her name softly, almost a whisper. As though speaking her name any louder would conjure the woman into the room with them where they sit.
Simon takes a sharp breath at her name, face contorting for a moment into a scowl, rage curling heavy in his gut.
“What did that bitch do-!” He starts, ready to storm his way to the lab to throw a few choice words at the woman. He knew her and Ryland’s history and was none too pleased with her continued existence.
“Si, it’s not- well, it is technically her fault, but it’s not really her fault for my reaction. She just… told me a few things that I wasn’t privy to before that made me rather emotional.” He says it in such a manner it’s almost sheepish, hands going up to card through his hair before twiddling with his glasses once more.
“What did the bitch say then?” Simon presses, a barely contained force behind his voice. Simon knows Ryland, knows his tendency to downplay the sheer magnitude of a scenario for the well-being of others involved. Simon, however, also knew of Stratt’s actions, and though they may have been necessary, they were inexcusable, and she had no reason to be protected by Ryland.
His angel sighs, resting his head back against the wall. If Simon didn’t know better, he’d say there were more tears in Ryland's eyes. Simon did know, and there were definitely more tears.
“Have I ever told you about my family?” The taller man breathes, staring past his lover, eyes fogging over. They both know Ryland hasn’t; it’s a rather sensitive topic for both of them.
“I grew up in a small house in Florida, not far from the coast. I had an older brother named Courtland and a twin brother named Colton. Court and Colt, for short. Our mom died after giving birth to Colt and me. It was something having to do with the way her C-Section incision was sutured, I think? I never paid much attention to it when I was little. I just know my dad thought it was my fault and that either way she was dead.” Ryland takes a breath, voice cracking as he blinks away tears. Simon wills himself not to interrupt, letting the other continue.
“Court always said our dad ‘thought himself a real man’s man’. I didn’t quite realize what that meant for a while; I just knew he was an angry man. Any time anything wasn’t up to his standard with us kids, he’d just, he’d get so angry. He’d yell and throw things and… It wasn’t pretty. Court did his best to shield Colt and me from it, but he was just a kid too, and he couldn’t always be there.” Ryland trails off once more, closing his eyes as he continues, peeling his glasses from his face and threading a temple on the collar of his shirt. “There was this one day that I don’t even remember what we did, but my father just got so mad. He dragged Colt to the bathroom and had filled the tub with water, and he just… Kept shoving his face under the water over and over again. And I had no clue what to do other than yell at him to stop. I begged him to stop, to let me take the punishment, something to get him to let Colt go. I think that was when Court got home from work, because the next thing I know he was barging in and he uh… He shot our dad and… And I never saw him again after that. Eight years after Colt and I got letters from the prison he was held in informing us there had been a prison riot that Court had died in. We didn’t even have a funeral…”
They fall into a steady silence as Ryland calms himself once more. Simon finds his voice again after a moment, though it is a near whisper.
“What about you and Colt?”
“We got tossed around foster homes for a few years before aging out. I went to college; Colt went to LA to become a stunt man. That’s the simplified version anyway. A couple years ago… well, a couple years before I got shot into space, he had an accident on set. He was supposed to do this massive drop on this rig that would catch him. There was a miscalculation, though; that’s what Colt said when I asked. He wasn’t brought up in time, and he broke his back. I tried to stay with him as much as possible during that time, but he just… he didn’t want me there with him. I don’t think he wanted me to see him in that much pain, y’know? We fought a lot, and said so much stuff we didn’t mean. I did, anyway. I hadn’t spoken to him since then.
And then two days before Stratt asked me to step up as the science lead on the mission, Colt got accused of murder and died. They said it was something having to do with a boat exploding and that his body was never recovered.”
Ryland finally looks at Simon once more, eyes shiny still, unshed tears threatening to spill once more.
“Oh, Ry…” Simon breathes, opening his arms in an offering to the other. Ryland lets out a soft sob, burying himself into Simon’s chest, shaking. They sit pressed to one another once more as Ryland works to collect himself again.
“I’m so sorry you had to deal with losing your family, Ry. You shouldn’t have to carry that grief alone.” Simon speaks against Ryland's head, chin resting atop the other's hair.
“That’s the thing though… Stratt said that they went to find her.”
“Who went to find her? Your brother’s?” Simon tries to imagine this, that somehow, both of Ryland’s living family members had had their deaths faked in some way. That they both had never informed Ryland of their existence. Ryland nods the affirmative to the question, and they sit in silence together for quite some time.
“When are you going back then?” Simon whispers. Selfishly, he’s afraid to ask.
“What?” Ryland sniffles, pulling himself from the other's grasp. “Back where?’
“Earth,” Simon says it so simply. And to him, it is that simple. Ryland is clearly distraught over this, evident in his shaky tears. “I mean, clearly you miss your brothers, and if Stratt isn’t lying to you – which she better not be because I will gut her – then why wouldn’t you want to go home?”
It sounds so simple like that. So easy. It isn’t.
“Si, we both know that isn’t how this works. Not only would we never be able to come back to Erid, but we’d have to fuel up the Hail Mary! We’d have to stockpile so much food and attempt to plot a course, and we’d have to figure out so many logistics. Not to mention the time dilation! It’s already been, what, twenty years since I was last on Earth? By the time we’d return, it’d likely be so far past the time of me even being able to see them and-”
“Angel, breathe. Take a minute and just think about it, okay? Don’t worry about the logistics and the rest of it. If you could, right now, go back to Earth to see them, would you?”
It takes less than a half second for Ryland to nod in agreement.
“Of course I would.” He scoffs. “That’s not even a question. There’s just no feasible way for us to actually be able to return to Earth. I don’t want to wish for something I can’t have. It just hurts to know they’re out there, living on without me.”
Simon nods, sighing and pulling Ryland back into him.
“We’ll figure it out, angel.”