Chapter Text
“Come on!”
“What, what?”
Ilyukhina grabbed him by the hand with a grin before he could say more, swinging their hands cheerfully, if not a little childishly. He held on tight, her hand warm in his.
Grace stumbled, because of course he did. Yáo kindly caught him, a teasing hint in his eyes.
“You are going to knock him over one of these days,” he chided his fellow astronaut.
Ilyukhina only laughed, and Grace couldn’t help but smile as well. For someone who was going to die in the relatively near future, the Russian woman was remarkably cheerful. Grace had always thought the phrase “at peace with it” had been bullcrap, but she proved him wrong.
All of the astronauts had, both the primary and secondary teams. Grace still often hated that he was here at all (though he knew this was where he needed to be), but if being here meant he’d met them, Grace thought it was worth it.
“If she knocks me over, do you think I’d get a break?” he asked ruefully, sending Yáo a quick grin when he stopped one of the many reports Grace was juggling from falling. He really needed both hands for this, but Ilyukhina had commandeered one with a smile. Grace knew from past experience he wasn’t going to get it back until she was good and ready.
“I’d catch you,” she said in mock offence. Yáo wordlessly grabbed another binder before it fell, face impassive. Grace knew the older man well enough to know he was amused, though.
“I’m a foot taller than you,” he pointed out.
She swung their joined hands even more. “Not a foot,” she corrected, then muttered something about Americans and their measurement system. That was fair.
He let her pull him along, glancing back to see if Yáo was following. He shot the other man a small smile along with a shrug. Yáo just raised an eyebrow back, a smile tugging on his lips.
Grace turned back to Ilukhina, listening to her chat away.
She would be the life of the Hail Mary mission through the inevitable fear and pain. She was walking towards her own death with a smile on her face and pep in her steps, and never let anyone pity her for her choice.
Grace would never be as strong as her, or even half as brave.
He didn’t want to be, or need to. Not when people like Ilukhina and Yáo existed.
“Where are you dragging me?” he asked when they turned into yet another corridor. Despite living on the ship for what felt like a lifetime, Grace still got lost far too often. If he didn’t have Carl trailing after him most of the day, he was pretty sure he’d have vanished into the bowels of the boat, never to be found again.
“You’re getting a drink with us,” she informed him. “And I want to hear more about your students! Nastya,” she continued, referencing the partner she still loved despite their mutually decided breakup, “was a teacher as well—”
Grace knew this. He knew a lot about Ilukhina, and about Nastya. He got teary whenever he thought about the trust the woman had in him. He was going to miss her so so so much.
“—and she always had the best stories.” Ilukhina ushered him into the room that served as a mess hall and bar, the smile still on her face. “I want to hear more of yours! I know Yáo does too.”
Grace blinked back at Yáo who had, somehow, ended up holding everything he’d been trying to carry.
“I would love to hear more about the people we are all trying to save,” the commander said, his eyes softening around the edges. “And you tell stories very well, Dr. Grace. We are lucky to have you.”
He laughed, feeling at home in a way he only did with them. “Nah,” he chucked, “I’m lucky to have you.”
Even before his memories fully returned, Grace sometimes thought he saw Yao and Ilukhina strolling Mary’s corridors. He knew it was a trick of his mind. After all, he’d never been in the Mary with them conscious. He’d only known them down on earth.
He had liked them, as well as Shapiro and DeBois. They had been warm, kind, brave to a fault and oh so loving. He could barely remember them, yet missed them so much it was sometimes hard to breathe.
“What happened to Grace’s crew, question?”
Grace blinked away the image of Yáo walking through the lab.
“They died on the way here,” he said. “You know that.”
Rocky made a noise of utter irritation. He’d been making them more and more as they slowly and painfully worked on the chain.
“I don’t really know how they died,” he said, mostly honest. “But…” he trailed off and sighed. “They knew the risks.”
Rocky made a noise Grace had programmed to mean something along the lines of sadness/sympathy/relating to pain.
He managed a smile. “You would have liked them,” he said. “Ilukhina was an engineer, like you. Yáo was the leader. They were… they were good people.”
Rocky made another chain, operating with far more speed that Grace would ever use.
“Grace good person,” he said firmly, a musical note in his voice Grace knew meant he wouldn’t entertain any argument. “Tell Rocky about crew, question?”
Grace rolled his neck from side to side, breathing out in relief when it cracked. Rocky, of course, made a sound of disgust. “I can try,” Grace said. He started to work again, glad to have something to do with his hands. “I don’t remember everything, though.”
“That is alright,” Rocky said firmly. “Grace is a good story teller.”
Grace smiled and sniffed back some more tears. “I can try,” he whispered. “And,” he continued, “I think they’d like me to tell you about them. They’d have adored you.”
Rocky chittered happily. “Good. Just like Rocky adores Grace, statement."