Chapter Text
The universe loved to prove Eva Stratt wrong.
She majored in history thinking she’d get some sort of job in that field. Instead she became, effectively, a world dictator.
She thought she had taken enough precautions in Project Hail Mary to protect the crew. DuBois and Shapiro still died. Yao and Ilyukhina too.
She thought she’d seen Ryland Grace for the last time when she sent him off to die in space. He’d come back somehow.
And she definitely thought she’d seen him for the last time after their one brief conversation that had immediately dissolved into an argument and ended with both of them claiming they wished the other was dead.
But there he was. Ryland fucking Grace. Proving Stratt wrong once again. Standing at her door in the middle of the night.
“What are you doing here?” It came out harsher than Stratt had meant it.
“I-” Grace stared at Stratt as though he was just now realizing where he was. “I don’t know.” His voice slurred slightly.
“Are you drunk?” Stratt asked, trying to hide the stab of concern she felt. She didn’t need to worry about Grace anymore. She had nothing to do with him now. And he wanted nothing to do with her.
“A little bit,” Grace admitted, swaying slightly, clearly more drunk than a ‘little bit’.
Stratt rolled her eyes, “That doesn’t explain why you’re here.”
Without saying anything, Grace shoved past Stratt and through the door.
“What the hell?” Stratt turned, “get out of my house.”
Grace crossed his arms and didn’t move, “no. We- we need to talk.”
Stratt sighed but closed the door and crossed her arms, “what is there to talk about?”
“I hate you.” Grace said instead of answering.
“I know,” Stratt said, forcing her voice to remain steady. She hated the way hearing those words still affected her, even though it made perfect sense. What right did she have to ask Grace to forgive her when she couldn’t even forgive herself?
“I hate you,” Grace said again, pacing around the hallway, “I hate you and I hate that you made me go and I hate that you never even tried to apologize.”
“It saved the world,” Stratt said, more to herself than to Grace.
“Yeah yeah,” Grace said, “you keep telling yourself that. Keep pretending I was some ‘necessary sacrifice’ or whatever.”
“It was necessary,” Stratt huffed, her anger resurfacing in the face of that familiar argument.
“Whatever,” Grace said again, “I hate you for it either way.”
“I’d be surprised if you didn’t,” Stratt sighed, leaning back against the front door.
“And,” Grace went on, “I hate that now I’ve come back, but nothing can ever go back to normal. You ruined my entire life. And you don’t even care.”
“I do - that’s not-,” Stratt took a deep breath, “I’m sorry that you hate being a hero so much, Dr. Grace. Do you want me to go back and change things so that humanity dies, instead?”
It was stupid, Stratt knew that. The way she was desperately trying to hide her pain behind anger. But anger was easier. Anger made sense. Pain didn’t. Longing didn’t. It was easier to be angry than to try and fix things. And Stratt was tired of trying to fix things. Tired of working so hard only to be met with hatred.
“I wish you were dead.” Grace’s voice was cold.
“And I wish you never came back.” Stratt spat back without hesitation. They’d had this fight before. Right after Grace returned.
Stratt hated how well she remembered that day. If someone asked her, she could’ve told them that the sky was a shade of blue that made her nauseous and her flight had taken off at 5:05 in the morning and landed at 12:14 in the afternoon. She could have told them every thought that ran through her head, everything anyone said to her, everything she said back to them. Not that she would tell anyone that.
Grace slumped against the wall, the fight draining out of him suddenly, “that’s not true,” he muttered, barely loud enough for Stratt to hear.
“What?”
“It’s not true.” Grace ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t wish you were dead. And I don’t think you wish I never came back either.”
Stratt said nothing. She didn’t need to. Silence was confession enough. He was right. She didn’t wish he hadn’t come back. In fact, she had been relieved when she learned he was still alive. Even if she knew all the backlash she would get for what she’d done, even though she’d known he would hate her.
“I miss you.” Grace whispered, breaking Stratt out of her thoughts, “I miss you and I hate that I miss you and I don’t know why I miss you.” His voice broke.
Stratt’s heart broke along with it.
“But I do,” Grace sighed, “I do and it’s killing me. So I guess that’s why I’m here. I wanted you to know that I missed you.”
“I miss you too.” Stratt said, because the words were suddenly so desperate to escape that holding them in her throat had become painful. Because she would never get another chance to tell him. Because if she didn’t say it then, she wouldn’t say it ever and it would rot inside the prison that her ribcage had become.
There was silence. Not awkward silence, but heavy silence. A silence full of unspoken words.
Stratt was exhausted all of a sudden. It was late, and her head was starting to hurt.
Grace looked tired too. He was swaying more now, and staring at the floor.
“You should sleep,” Stratt heard herself say, quietly, “we both should.”
“Do you want me to go?” Grace asked.
“No,” Stratt said, “Stay.” Then, quickly, she added, “I don’t want you wandering around outside like this. You can sleep on the couch”
“Right,” Grace said.
There was another silence. And this time neither of them dared to break it. It was fragile, somehow. Like if there was any noise it would break something that could never be fixed.
Stratt wordlessly helped Grace get set up on the couch, then went to bed herself. She could face reality in the morning. For now she was content to exist in this world where it was quiet. And she tried not to dwell on the fact that just being around Ryland Grace again made her feel safer than she had in years.
Stratt stood in the doorway leading from her kitchen to her living room. Grace had left already, after a good amount of confusion and shouting and arguing— Stratt’s house was silent again. And she was staring at a blank wall, trying to decide where to go from there. It was annoying that she didn’t know what to do. Normally, Stratt was utterly confident, but Grace always managed to trip her up somehow. Without even trying. He just… existed near Stratt and suddenly her mental compass was all muddled. It was exhausting. And confusing .
It was odd, quiet had never bothered Stratt before. But now it felt as though it was suffocating her.