Chapter Text
Day 1
Some stubborn, delusional part of me still hasn’t gotten the memo that we’re living in the after now, because I wake up thinking that Simon is beside me. It’s the only explanation that I have for why, as my awareness returns, I’m devastated that he isn’t there. It feels like a personal betrayal. My nose should be buried in his hair and face smothered against his neck like it always is. My arms should be pulling him in close from behind, and his hand should be locked over one of mine to tug it against his chest. Our legs should be hopelessly intertwined, vined together like we’re each other’s trellis, stable only because we have each other to lean on. I should be keeping him cool, and he should be warming me up. I’m expecting our thermodynamic equilibrium.
Instead, I wake up wrapped around his pillow like an octopus. I feel hollowed out and empty, when reality sets back in. And despite Rocky loafing on the mattress next to me, ever-vigilant and radiant with heat through his suit, I’m shivering.
Rocky stayed over last night. I didn't even bother turning him down when he offered— if he hadn’t, I would have suggested it. The thought of spending a second sleepless night home alone was borderline unbearable, especially because the dome is officially going into a three day minimum super-quarantine today after he leaves. I’m proud to report that I only succumbed once to the nauseating dread of the whole situation we’ve found ourselves in before Rocky finally insisted that I actually try to sleep and bullied me into the bedroom. Miraculously, it seems like I managed to catch a few hours of rest after all.
He doesn’t waste any time as I come back online. “Good morning. What is your plan, question?”
I’m still laying on my side, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, and I allow myself one languid stretch and press my forehead to his suit. One claw finds the back of my head, warm digits threading into my hair, and I hum in appreciation as he gently scratches. I try to pretend for a moment longer that this sleepover is happening under better circumstances. Simon just got up early today, he’s putting something together in the kitchen or tending to the greenhouse or taking an early-morning walk on the beach, and Rocky spent the night watching both of us sleep. Just like we used to.
Rocky isn’t having it. “Plan, Grace. Tell me the plan.”
Bossy. My body might still be slow on the uptake, voice gravelly and thick with sleep, but at least my mind has hit the ground running. “Need to verify that Si hasn’t come back onto land to hide out somewhere. He probably hasn’t, but I don’t want to chance it.” This would be easier if he would stop scratching my head, it feels too nice to focus. I sigh and reluctantly sit up, yawning, and Rocky’s claw falls back to the mattress. “If I can set up some land locations with easy markers to check for disturbances, that’ll at least let me know where he has or hasn’t been going forward. Then I want to walk the beach, see what there is to see.”
“And you are sure you don’t want my help? Question?”
I run a hand down my face. “Of course I do. I want you in this with me so bad, Rock. But I need you to manage the team more. I need them fully out of my business for at least the first few days of this, and I need more time. They’ll listen to you when you tell them how tightly we need to shut things down for now, and more importantly how unreasonable three frickin’ days is before they try to swoop in. Besides, you know how to handle their…quirks better than anyone. ”
Except maybe Simon. For some reason he’s an absolute wizard at reading the Eridian team leads, and he’s constantly absorbing and cataloguing any new information we learn about them. He was the first to notice when Porcelain and Lilac had quietly become partners, even before they showed up to work with their biodome-themed mate marks. He picked up on the tensions that had grown between Neapolitan and Russet over what everyone now refers to as “the Sunset Incident,” and got Rocky involved before the two highly respected Eridians could do something they both would have regretted over something as trivial as attempting to simulate dusk and dawn with an artificial sun in the biodome. Simon is observant. He’s a good mediator, a good middleman, a good friend.
My heart aches in my chest. So much of Simon is good. I miss him.
I get out of bed, determined to change the subject and do something instead of just wallowing more. “How much me-meat do Adrian and Viridian estimate we have on standby right now?”
Rocky shivers as he follows me out of the bedroom. He hates talking about my me-meat, which is hilarious to me because Adrian is not only the lead xenobiologist for the dome (and, really, the rest of Erid at this point), but also the head of the Human Nutrition Program. He probably has to hear about it all the time. “I will investigate. How much do you need, question?”
“All of it. Anything not actively in development or being used by R&D or the Nutrition Program, at least. Basically as much as Viridian and the rest of the Pro-Team can spare.”
The shivers turn into jerky spasms. Rocky is squeamish enough from my statement to ignore my dumb protein/pro-team pun. “For plan, question?”
“Yeah, for plan. One of them, at least. Not for today, but as soon as possible please.”
Breakfast is a largely silent affair after this, and I multitask by gathering the supplies I’ll probably need today while I eat. Binoculars, radio, tape recorder, one of Mary’s last surviving handheld cameras, some me-protein bars, and more odds and ends get tucked away in my bag or elsewhere on my person. I also end up grabbing some of the ultrafine xenonite strand prototypes that Rocky had started developing with Porcelain and the R&D team under Neapolitan. “Hey, can I use these?”
“Of course, they’re old drafts. The medical team is already working on an improved model.” Neither of us mention that the gossamer-thin wires are only in development as an enhancement for Simon’s prosthetic arm– which is apparently in pieces after The Incident with Moss Rose in the Medical Center.
My breakfast won’t be making a reappearance, but it’s a near thing as my stomach turns. Don’t think about it. You’re still missing the other side of the story.
I finish getting ready, packing my bag and tugging on my shoes. I fell asleep in my clothes last night, and I’m anxious to get out there. “Alright, I’m going monster hunting. Wish me luck.”
Rocky stomps at me. “Choose different words. Simon is not a monster.”
He’s right, as he usually is. I knew the joke wasn’t going to land, but I just couldn’t stop myself from trying to defuse the tension. “You know what I mean, man.”
“Maybe so. Does not make true. Bad joke.” He’s devolving a bit into our old pidgin. He only does that when he’s really tense, lately.
I sigh. I feel awful. “You’re right. How about…I’m going fishing. Wish me luck?”
I’m relieved when this gets me a tired peep of a laugh. “Acceptable. Catch a big one, Grace.”
Oh, I’m gonna catch a whopper alright. Probably not today, but it’s gonna happen. I’m nearly out the door when Rocky chimes one last time behind me.
“Bring him home, okay? Question? It’s not too late. We can still fix this.”
Breathing suddenly feels difficult. “I will, Rock. Just…talk with the team, and buy me time when you leave the dome.” And then I’m gone, leaving the door open behind me.
Rather than start down to the beach, I circle around to the back of our house and make my way down the path to the science lab. I don’t think Simon will have stopped by there, but the greenhouse next door? That’s an entirely different story. In a perfect world he’s in there right now, huddled under his favorite potting bench or behind one of the larger garden beds, trying to ground himself among the plants that he loves so much. C’mon, Simon, you could make life so easy for me right now…
Either way, this is such a short walk to be so full of memories. How many days have we spent in these two buildings, in our own little worlds but close enough to a pleasant collision course if one of us chose to enter the other’s orbit? Wasn’t it barely a week ago that we had last made this walk together, his hand tucked into mine like it belongs there– because it does?
The lab is empty when I arrive. Predictable. So is the greenhouse. Also predictable, but that carries with it more disappointment. I latch the doors shut anyways, maneuvering one xenonite thread each around the mechanisms so that, if they ever open again, the threads will break and I’ll know they were disturbed the next time I come check them.
Grimly satisfied, I pull out the camera from my bag and note the undisturbed ground around the buildings in a series of pictures. Then I switch the camera out for the tape recorder, a bona-fide Eridian dictaphone, and say “Day 1. Started by walking the land premises of the biodome. Lab and greenhouse are both undisturbed. Secured both locations, and photographed the current state of the area for future comparisons.”
It’s been a while since I’ve recorded video logs, but I’ll probably do one of those when today is over too. I’m documenting the heck out of this entire experience, for both my sake and the team’s. In the event that something like this ever happens again, we’re going to want to know what worked, and what didn’t.
Good thing it won’t happen again. Definitely. This is totally a one-off. We’re gonna get to the bottom of this, we’re gonna sort it out, and it’s all gonna be fine. Absolutely. If I say it enough times, I’ve gotta start believing it eventually.
Right?
I click off the dictaphone and sigh. This is going to work. It has to. Not today, today is recon and baseline establishment and fact-finding and whatever else I can call it. But I’m going to get him back. I’m going to find him. This biodome is only so big.
The radio squawks to life, and I can hear Rocky’s tones flowing out of it as he calls for the attention of all the team leads and instructs them to verify the initiation of full quarantine procedures for all entrances and exits to the biodome with the exception of the maintenance tunnel near the classroom. Then he does his very best interstellar diplomat impression and requests a meeting with all available heads to continue the discussion regarding Simon’s retrieval, and I can’t stop the small smile that tugs at my cheeks.
That’s it, Rocky. A little leverage never hurt anyone.
They must switch to a different frequency after that, because the radio goes silent in my hands. I clip it back to my waist. Now that Rocky’s officially left the dome and we’re on full lockdown, I have options. I’m not sure exactly which one I want to take– staying on land, or making my way down to the beach. I sit on the doorstep of the lab and start to think it through.
The quarantine procedures mean that all major outbuildings and entrances to the biodome are entirely shut down and being monitored for signs of life or movement. The medical wing, the train station, the Human Cultural Center, even my classroom will all be closed to the public and only the most essential personnel will be allowed on site until this gets resolved. There’s no real need for me to trek all the way to each of them, then, wasting both valuable calories and even more valuable time, just to confirm what I already know– Simon isn’t there, and likely wouldn’t even bother. Even if he does make an appearance there, someone on Midnight’s team would sense him and light up the walkie-talkies within seconds. And as much as we love the wide open space, there’s not as much to do out on this level of the biodome right now besides lounge around on picnics or go inside the different buildings connecting us to the rest of Erid.
No. If Simon wasn’t in the greenhouse, odds are good that he wouldn't be anywhere else up here. Not when there’s a whole ocean he could be hiding in instead. Except, maybe, possibly, my classroom.
It’s a long shot, but I can’t ignore the thought that its placement is kind of perfect for what I imagine a scared, maybe-semi-feral Simon might be looking for right now. Easy water access, therefore a good escape route. Far from the medical center, which triggered all of this in the first place. And, y’know, possibly even a little familiarity or comfort. Because it’s my space. I’m…hoping he might still care about that, even if he isn’t coming home. Maybe that’s too much right now, but the classroom could be a middle ground.
It’s on the beach anyways. It wouldn’t be the worst place to start my search in earnest.
My mind made up, I give myself a small clap before I push to my feet, scrabbling for the dictaphone again. “Proceeding to the classroom to start my preliminary search of the beach. Hypothesized ‘sweet spot’ between safety in the water, and familiarity of land. Update to come.” And then I’m back on the path to the house so I can make my way down the cliff face safely to the beach.
The biodome is about half a mile from end-to-end, and I’ve walked this route along the main beach often enough that it’s practically muscle memory, adjusting to the gritty sand and pebbles beneath my feet. I know it only takes 10 minutes on a good day to get from my house to the classroom, when my rapidly aging joints are cooperating at least. But part of me wants to take this time for myself. It gives me time to think, at least, walking the length of my home back and forth. Ruminate might be the better word, as I continue to turn the impossible situation over and over in my brain.
It’s got to be something from his past, from before Simon crash-landed into our path and our merry Hail Mary band of two became three. Even after all this time, new details come up in passing conversations all the time that shouldn’t be surprising or new after this long together, and yet they always are. It has to be something from his past, something I didn’t know about. Something no one could have known about, because Simon won’t talk about it.
It’s been one of our only points of contention since getting to Erid– Simon has declined all therapy attempts that weren’t physical. He likes the Eridians, he insists, he does trust them. And I believe him! We’re all friends, after all! But what he’s said, over and over, is that he doesn’t want anyone else in his head. I can still remember the haunted look in his eyes at his own word choice, how intentional it had seemed. No, he doesn’t want anyone in his head, especially not any Eridians, even though Porcelain literally has at least three people on their staff who could qualify as board-certified human psychologists at this point. I see one regularly myself, in fact.
I’ve been working on it with him, but it’s been a slow process. You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink. Maybe I could have placed a metaphorical IV or something, though. Would that have helped anything?
No, don’t get bogged down in stupid metaphors. Focus. You’re finding Simon. You’re bringing him home.
I’ve made it to the stone platform that makes up the open-air dome side of my classroom, and I set down my bag as I reach it. Everything looks to be exactly where I’d left it, which is both a relief and a disappointment. I step up onto the pseudo-pavement anyways for a closer look. The sandboard (an Eridian equivalent of a whiteboard, and one of Rocky’s first gifts to me after I started teaching again) still has last lesson’s notes scrawled onto it. My laptop is still on its podium from where I’d abandoned it mid-conference, and my teaching keyboard is right on the table next to the xenonite wall where I left it.
For once, I’m actually really sad that no one has messed with my stuff.
I start to scour the sand in the surrounding area, even though I know it’s a fruitless endeavor. The waves will have washed away anything I might be looking for– drag marks, footprints, anything. If Simon had been here, there's no sign of it. I give up the search, even though I’ve really only just started it, and sit heavily on the edge of my teaching platform where it hangs just slightly over the rest of the beach.
My knees hurt a little from all the walking. My chest hurts a lot from everything else.
The thought really starts to hit me, then. It’s been nearly two days since we’ve seen each other. And Simon’s just…gone. He hasn’t sought me out. Maybe he hasn’t even been to the classroom to look for any piece of me, like I’ve been searching for pieces of him.
I sniffle, and pull my knees in a little closer. Sue me, I’m upset. I try staring out at the incoming waves, at the tiny raised islets just a little ways off of the shore. They’re always a popular fixture with the pebbles, especially on field trip days where we let them come inside the biodome and experience life on another planet for a day. Simon is always such a good sport on field trip days, helping chaperone and look out for the kids, he’s so good with them–
Oh, my heart is breaking. I sniffle again, wiping my eyes under my glasses, hoping that the islets will swim back into focus. Something catches my eye, as they do.
For a moment, we just look at each other. I don’t think it registers in his brain that I’ve seen him, honestly. It certainly doesn’t in mine, not for a good few seconds. Had this been Earth and not Erid, I might have disregarded the bobbing form in the water entirely as a clump of dark seaweed wrapped around a piece of bleached driftwood. But this isn’t Earth. And what I’m looking at isn’t driftwood.
It’s Simon.
I’m frozen in place, and then I’m not– I’m on my feet, tense and wound like a spring. Am I hallucinating? Is this a dream? “Simon?”
No movement. No response. Just those glossy, dark eyes, locked on mine. His nose below the surface. His hair flat and pooling in the water around him.
And the left side of his face completely overtaken by sharp, jagged teeth. All the way up into his hairline.
Heart pounding, mind racing, I throw every plan I’ve ever considered out the window. I’m rushing into the water, up to my knees in an instant, reaching out to him. “Simon! Simon, hang on–!”
And he’s gone. In one burst of movement, one decisive splash, all I catch a glimpse of is a set of rippling, red, ribbon-like spines along his back and a thick, powerful-looking tail behind his legs.
I’m all alone again.
I don’t know how long I stand in the water, dumbfounded. It’s long enough that I start shivering, when I finally come back to myself enough to stumble back onto the beach. My shoes and socks are absolutely soaked, as are my pants up well past the knee. I don’t even have it in me to be mad at myself about that.
On full autopilot, I watch myself take my soaked footwear off and put them into my bag. I’m similarly vacant as my body sets up a few more useless xenonite wire markers on the equipment in my classroom, just in case. What I’m really doing is playing that moment back in my head, over and over. The details are only getting sharper, the more I think about them. The spiked, ragged, finned ear on his right side. The anglerfish-like lure that looked like it was sprouting from his forehead, how it had flashed bright blue just before his escape. And that tail, a true extension of his spine. Not like the tiny thing that had tried to sprout once on the Hail Mary. Something long and powerful and real.
It’s worse. It’s so much worse than we thought. I didn't even know it could get this bad. Oh, Simon…
I click off the dictaphone I’ve been speaking into. I don’t even know what I’ve said, genuinely. Hopefully it’s something useful to future-me, or to the team. I have no idea what time it is, how long it’s been since today started. All I know is that I just want this to be over. I want to skip right to the end, where everything ends up okay and we figure this all out and it’s over.
“Grace, question?” My radio chimes to life, and I startle back into my body. Rocky.
I pick up immediately. “Yeah?”
“You have your ∀λ days. The team is listening to reason now, though they are requesting that past λI days they be allowed into the biodome to provide support for plans.”
I have my week, but after day four I’ll have unsolicited helpers. I guess that’s about as good as I could have asked for, even if it’s not perfect. “Thank you. Thank you, that’s wonderful, Rock. I can make that work.”
“How goes the fishing, question?”
I laugh despite myself, even as a wayward tear carves a path down my cheek. “Oh, about on par with the last time we tried it over Adrian’s storm systems.”
A concerned whistle. “Elaborate. Grace hurt, question?”
“No, no, nothing like that.” Not physically, at least. My heart is a different story entirely, it’s practically in tatters. “I, um. I found Simon. Briefly, near my classroom. We were right, he’s hiding out in the ocean.” I pause then, unsure about how to continue. The silence over the radio gets uncomfortably long.
“Grace?”
“It’s bad, Rock,” I whisper finally. “Really bad. Worse than I thought, and I didn’t even get to see all of him.”
Now it’s Rocky’s turn to be quiet for a while. Finally, he says “Do you need me to break quarantine? Question?”
It startles a laugh from me. Of course that would be his response. “No, stay out of trouble. I’ll be okay. And besides, I don’t know how much goodwill you have left to burn with the team after whatever you needed to do to buy me the time I asked for.”
Rocky hums, thoughtful, but doesn’t say anything for a second. I focus on the waves around me until he speaks again. “It’s not over, Grace. You’ll find a way to bring him back.”
My lip trembles, and I hope that it stays inaudible through the radio. “I hope so, Rock. I’ll check in again later.” And then I’m clicking the unit off entirely and burying my face in my hands.
Two more minutes. Two more minutes to be a mess, and then I’m getting up and getting to work.
Twelve minutes later, I pull myself together and start to walk, barefoot, back up the beach.
I spend hours more scouring the shoreline, calling Simon’s name, practically begging to see even another glimpse of him again, but it’s exactly like I expected. No dice. I pay special attention to the last islet we have, the one right out in the middle of the water instead of near the classroom, but there’s nothing suspicious there at all. The cove on the other side of the house, when I reach it, gets the same treatment, but still to no avail. The only responses I get are from the waves rolling in. There’s nothing around to hear me.
The door is still hanging open when I finally call it quits for the day and go back home. The small, delusional part of me rears its head again in disappointment when no warm-toned lights glimmer from the windows, no wet footprints have crossed the entryway. What, did I really think that after all of this, after 48-ish hours out there by himself, that Simon would just cave and show back up here after seeing me once? Just because he, I don’t know, missed me? Maybe?
…Yeah. Yeah I did.
I leave the porch light on, to guide him back home. I don’t lock the door, either.
Just in case.