Chapter Text
Colton Seavers never got phone calls. Even before his accident, he didn’t get phone calls. He wouldn’t say he didn’t have people to call, or people to call him, because he did. He had friends, granted, he cut almost all of them off after, but he still had friends.
They just didn’t call first.
And Colt didn’t either.
He left his home everyday or so, and he saw enough sunlight, and he took all the medicine they gave him, and he did the physical therapy. It wasn’t enough. He went on runs occasionally, and he still longed for more. He wanted to feel the weightlessness of a freefall, or the pressure of a blank gun in his hands, bright lights burning into his skin, the knowledge that he was being watched, filmed, and that people loved it.
Colton Seavers wanted that feeling back.
But he couldn’t have it.
A few of the other guys at the valet said he could probably feel that way if he tried a solution or two of theirs, but even in highschool, Colt had never been one for drugs. He was beyond stupid, this was true. It was probably the reason his foster families kept sending him back, but he never did drugs.
If he wanted to feel pure adrenaline, or fear, he was going to find a way to do it raw, without the influence, literally.
Unfortunately, this meant that he also had to experience the pain, raw and unfiltered.
You win some, you lose some, he supposes.
The point remains.
Colton Seavers spends his days alone, his nights working valet, and repeating. He does not get phone calls. Ever.
His phone rings.
He picks up on instinct.
“Hello?”
He doesn’t recognize the voice he’s connected to.
“Hello. May I speak with Colton Seavers please?” They ask, and the fresh wave of confusion and maybe a bit of dread comes rushing into Colt’s body.
“That’s me.”
“Oh! Wonderful. I’m Nurse Weiss with the University Hospital of Zurich.”
Ok yes, Colt was assuredly very, very confused. Why was a swiss hospital calling him at 7 pm on a tuesday night? He couldn’t think of an ounce of a good reason.
“I was hoping to get in contact with you today in accordance to the Petrova Line Taskforce. The official protocol is that upon the chance of any astronaut’s return, all blood family should be informed upon awakening.”
“What?”
Colt bluescreened. None of the words spoken made any sense.
“Ah well, according to our data and DNA analysis system, you are the second blood sibling of Doctor Ryland Grace, his twin, actually! If our data is correct.”
That wasn’t right.
Colt didn’t remember his childhood. Not most of it. Earlier he got, the harder it was to remember. He had family, sure, but always the siblings or children of foster families. Colt had always been told that his family was dead.
Had he been told that?
Had he just assumed that?
Did they give him up? Was he not worthy of their love?
“That can’t be right. I don’t have any family.” He told Weiss.
They laughed.
“According to our system you have two living family members, by blood at least. Ryland Grace is one of them.”
Colt paused.
“Well your system is wrong.” He thought for a second. “Isn’t Ryland Grace one of those guys to go up there and save the sun? One of them that killed themselves for everyone else? What kind of fucked up prank call is this-”
“Mr Seavers, I promise you I intend to not alarm or disturb you in anyway. This is not a prank call. I can provide you with my ID and any other credentials you would like, but I’m assuming you haven’t seen the news lately? I say this less as a nurse, and rather as a human to another.”
“I… haven’t. no.” Colt didn’t watch the news much. Tom Ryder’s face was unfortunately all over it.
“Ok then. I’m going to give you a list of information and a number to call, I’d like you to write this down, if you would?”
Fuck it, why not? He grabs a notepad, and a pen.
Weiss gives him an address, a room number, a UUID with his name on it, and a number to call.
“Turn on the news, Colt. I know enough about Dr. Grace’s early life from the files. You’ll want to see this.”
They use his first name. The dial tone hits Colt’s ears.
He looks down at the sticky note in his hand, and up at the shitty television that runs on hopes and dreams.
More than a surprise, it turns on the first try.
It’s an old channel, not the one that he wants, showing a black and white western that he couldn’t care less about.
He flips it to channel 4, the one where the news is regularily shown. It’s talking about some government asset, maybe the DOW, or something? Colt never really kept up with that stuff, nor did he particularily care.
He scoffs. Maybe he had been lead all around, in some stupid prank, just to see a hopeless person have the hope of something small even for a second.
What a stupid thing to be hopeful for. Colt knew well enough why he didn’t stick around in many families for very long. Why he cut Jody off, and Dan, and anyone else that might have cared about him. He was a burden. Loneliness was a small thing to carry in order to preserve other people from the heavy weight that he always had been and always would be.
But he still longed for it. Desperately so. He was ashamed to admit it, how could he?
Every child grows up watching shows about loving families that overcome their hardship. But Colt’s family was dead, and now, it seemed they just didn’t want him.
He had had a family.
He used to have a family.
Colt cried into the soggy couch cushion as the topic changed.
"Good Evening, I'm Sandra Newcomb and with the International Space Update Station. We're reporting to you folks in Alburqueque, New Mexico. Today is May 4th, 2026. Our updating top story tonight is that of the impossible return of the spacecraft the Hail Mary, carrying with it 4 passengers, just 5 months after the beetles and video capsules recorded by Doctor Captain Ryland Grace returned.”
Colt’s breath stopped, and he shot up.
"First, to our breaking headline story. Not much is known to the public about the return of the Hail Mary, only that 3 unidentified personel and Doctor Ryland Grace were aboard. They crashed into the atlantic ocean just three days ago, into where the Chantal Ice Platform was forming, though the heat from the re-entry has said to have decimated this ice formation, and warmed the ocean in that spot to pre-astrophagic crisis temperatures. The crew inside the space vessel were rescued 12 hours after descent, and transported to a location undisclosed to the public, likely to recieve medical treatment. The people have taken to the streets with cheers and cries for this miracle, for Ryland Grace, the savior of the solar system. Local schools and government buildings are overrun with gifts to be delivered to Doctor Grace, so you may expect a small delay on your mail. The story is still updating as we speak. On the topic of space, David Hollins is working with some of the most renowned petrova task force, who are preparing the 7th probe to deliver a new batch of taumoeba to Venus. To you, David Hollins."
The screen flickers, and changes. Colt is crying. There’s a photo of Ryland on the screen. His hair is fluffier, and he has glasses. He looks like Colt. He could be Colt, if he tried. Holy fucking shit.
"Thank you, Sandra. I’m here with Doctor Henry Lee, an astrophage specialist..."
Colt’s mind trailed off.
He had a brother.
He had a brother that saved the universe.
And consequentially, his life.
The tv flickered off. It didn’t work well anyway. Colt saw his own reflection in the long gone place of Ryland Grace’s image.
He allowed himself one singular glance at the sticky note before making a call.
~~~
The second time Ryland Grace woke up on earth, the pain was less bad.
He could think more clearly.
Additionally, there were already nurses in his room. They ran over to him the second he blinked his bleary eyes, and they poked and prodded him. His arms felt more sore than anything else.
There wasn’t enough time for Ryland to figure out what was happening. It was bold to assume he even remotely knew what was and or had happened.
What he did know was that he could see a blue sky outside glass. He could feel the warm blood underneath the skin of the people who had cared for him. He could recall Carl’s face, and he knew what tile felt like.
“Sim’n” Was the first word he grumbled. His vocal cords were dry and tense, and someone gently helped him suck from a straw. The taste of cold, pure water felt like Ryland had been born again.
He blinked more coherently at them, after they seemed to deem him not at risk for immeadiate death.
“Simon.” He repeated.
A woman stepped forward. Some part of Ryland recognized her, but younger, with less dark roots and more bright makeup. Doctor Leonie Vogel had been one of the medical doctors assigned to the upkeep of the Hail Mary crew.
“Doctor Grace? Can you hear me?” She asked, and yeah, Ryland knew that voice. It was a voice he had grown to miss even though he had never even known the woman.
“Where’s Simon?” He demanded. His light blue eyes were ice cold, and all of the happiness he felt was overshadowed by fear for Simon. They didn’t know who he was. He couldn’t get hurt. Ryland knew what had happened the last time Simon had interacted with a human other than Ryland.
“Do you mean one of the people you arrived with?”
Plural. It wasn’t just him and Simon. Who the hell else was it?
Ryland nodded.
“ ‘e’s uhh short and got scars… no arm..” Ryland trailed off, thinking, trying to describe Simon. His Simon. There was a negative zero chance they wanted to hear him talk about how beautiful he was.
“John Doe in Room 14! That’s Simon.” She smiles, and she doesn’t seem condescending, or like she’s looking at Ryland like he’s insane, but Ryland still doesn’t like anything about this, and he tries to shift.
“Gotta go see him.”
“Doctor Grace, you are severely injured from your descent into Earth’s atmosphere. It’s imperative you stay put for the moment.”
Grace never swore outloud. It was a long habit ingrained in him from children, and while he might do it inside, never out loud. The urge to flip Vogel off was extremely, extremely strong.
“Fudge you.” Ryland said, getting up, shoving people away with his weak limbs. He left the upper IV in, and wrapped himself in the top bedding around himself like he was Emperor Comatose again.
“Dr. Grace-”
“If you have any more questions, I’m not answering them there. Need to see Simon.”
He told them straight up, and after everyone else looked too confused to apprehend the savior of the universe, they let Ryland slowly walk down the halls to room 14. Sure enough, Simon was still there, exactly how he had been when Ryland had seen him the first time.
Ryland pulled up a chair, and rested his head on the lower half of the bed, letting his eyes flick over the heartbeat monitor.
There was an audible sigh, and the shuffling of papers. Vogel sat down on the ground next to him. Ryland let himself look over at them for a second.
“It’s a miracle that I’m seeing you, Dr. Grace. I promise you I’m not trying to be cruel, we just need information. For your health, and his as well.”
It got through to Ryland.
“Ok.”
He never did think he would be the subject of an interrogation, but here he was.
“You said his name was Simon?” Vogel asked. Ryland nodded. “Does he have a last name?” She asked, and Ryland paused. Convict wasn’t even a name, though it was the first word that came to mind. Ryland let himself gently hold Simon’s hand, limp and asleep as he spoke.
“Grace.”
“I was wondering.” Vogel said, and there was a smile in her voice. “I’ve been one of the few privy to your most recent video journals. Does Simon hail from Erid?” She asks, and Grace shakes his head.
“Eden. It’s a space station that doesn’t exist anymore. He’s human, tho’ .” Ryland told her. “Put down Earth. He’s come from Earth. He’s just home again.”
“Thank you. Would you be willing to answer our questions about the other two?” She asks.
Ryland looks up.
“What?”
He and Simon were the only two humans he knew. Well, two humans aside from the dead ones, and Eridians.
“They’re being monitored more closely on a different floor, as due to all of our tests come back extremely wrong, and we’re concerned.”
There’s more paper shuffling. Ryland is offered two images.
They’re asleep. Ryland Grace recognized his best friend even when he didn’t look like his best friend. Tan skin, lines and dots in graceful patterns that were the stars against it. Uncut brown hair, Rocky looked peaceful. He looked human.
Horrifyingly human.
It wasn’t like Ryland hadn’t thought about it, but to see it, to see the literal impossible, it was something else entirely.
Impossible.
What did the word even mean anymore? Ryland had died. Ryland was alive! Ryland had saved the world. Ryland had come home. Ryland’s different species best friend looked human.
Justifiable conclusion, the word impossible meant nothing anymore.
The other photo was similar. Adrian had a longer face, somewhat, when compared to Rocky. Their hair was vibrant colours of blue and purple and some green, which didn’t surprise Ryland, considering the colours that Adrian had.
The same patterns danced on their skin.
“That’s Rocky. and Adrian.” He said, voice riddled with confusion and shock.
“Rocky like… the Eridian from your video journal?” He was asked. Yes. Yes that Rocky. “Well.” Vogel laughed. “I suppose that solves the question about the extremely impossible anatomy I was going to have to ask.”
Ryland perked up. He was no medical doctor, but if there was something he was more than adept at, it was Eridian anatomy and knowledge. He was quite literally the only human being in the universe that had a decent amount of knowledge on it.
Ryland was given projective diagrams.
“We can’t use X-Rays, or any heavy metal machinery on them. As far as we can tell, their blood is quite literally mercury. From the practical tests we’ve done, the only anatomical traits they share with humans are a throat and a stomach, as well as the basic digestive system. Their endocrine system doesn’t exist, and their nervous system practically doesn’t exist. By all human measures, they shouldn’t exist.”
Ryland laughed. For the first time, since returning to Earth, Ryland laughed.
“Start thinking by alien measures. I- I don’t suppose you have any of my documents from the Hail Mary.”
“If we do, I don’t have access to them. I was assigned to your care, and nothing else is being given out. The public knows next to nothing.”
“I’ve got documents on basic Eridian anatomy on there, probably. Not really sure. I don’t know how any of this works. Last thing I remember was a disco party on a fake beach on Erid, and then the feeling of burning.”
“Nobody is trying to figure it out. We’ve got most of the worlds scientists on your taumoeba, and this will be accepted as a miracle. There’s no logic or reason behind this, and nothing explains it. A Miracle. The Hail Mary has delivered a miracle. One final one.”
“Hail Mary, full of Grace.” Ryland said, half a joke, half a choked sob.
“Welcome home, Doctor Grace. The world has never been happier to see you.”
~~~
Colt stares at himself in the mirror for a very long time on the airplane, wondering whether or not to shave his beard. Cut his hair too. He didn’t like how he looked, but in these 14 months, he’s never had a reason to change.
Eva Stratt, was her name.
She’d gotten him on this flight, like she said she would on the phone.
“I wasn’t aware that Doctor Grace had any family.”
“I wasn’t aware I had any.” Was Colt’s response.
Regardless, she had gotten him the second closest flight out of New Mexico and to Switzerland, which is where Ryland Grace was being treated.
Colt decides to cut and shave it himself.
It looks like shit by the time it’s done, but the uneven strands and faintly visible stubble look like him. He’s reminded of the image of Ryland again, and looking at his face in the mirror, it’s uncanny. The concept of a twin.
It was stupid.
Colt had always known in all the movies where there were twins, the concept of twin intution was bullshit.
Family.
Would he hate him?
Colt couldn’t hate him.
Colt didn’t even know Ryland, and he loved him. The concept of a man, and Colt loved him more than anything else.
Colt could share phone calls with him about stupid stuff, and Colt could show him the previous technical work he’d done on movies. He’s show him cool car tricks, was he a car guy? A molecular microbiologist car guy. It wasn’t impossible.
The rest of the flight was time Colt spent out planning on what he thought Ryland was like. How he would be.
The unpredictable dilemma of learning to be known.