Chapter Text
Colt Seavers hadn’t seen his brother since he was 12 years old.
After their parents passed, they were thrown into a few different oddball homes.
But, as it turns out, it’s actually difficult to keep two siblings together in the foster system, especially when there's no family left to take them in.
(And when one of the siblings could make a second home out of the in-school suspension room. Not that Colt would know. Obviously.)
He honestly doesn’t remember much of the actual separation. He probably blocked out most of that a long time ago– trauma response, his brain supplies, recalling that counselor he saw for two mandatory sessions in high school.
Mostly he remembers the absence. One day his brother was there. And the next, he wasn’t– leaving a gaping hole in Colt’s periphery.
Surprisingly, not much else changed. Colt kept getting mediocre grades. Kept getting into (and winning!) schoolyard fights. Kept being passed around from home to home.
Finally Colt aged out of the system and realized he hadn’t thought this far.
He didn’t know what to do next. He had only been familiar with the cycle for so long that suddenly being thrown into the world was overwhelming.
And, not for the first time, he wondered about Ryland.
God, Ryland.
He was probably in an Ivy League by now, probably graduated early too.
Probably didn’t have many friends, but once he was surrounded by peers in his field, maybe that would change.
It was early in his twenties, as he bounced from odd job to odd job, that he tried to find his brother. The foster agency had kept terrible notes (of course), and it didn’t take long for him to turn up nothing.
By the time he took a gig from an acquaintance for a very-low budget short film as a stunt double, he tried to put it all behind him, and took a stage name.
He wasn’t Colt Majors, one half of a non-existent whole, barely-graduated failure. He was Colt Seavers, name in the movie credits and the “thumbs-up” guy.
It hurt too much to try and be anything else. The past was painful, and the future was scary. But the present? He could do the present.
One spinal cord injury, second-chance romance, and name-clearing later, Colt could actually say he was doing good.
Sure, it definitely was far harder than he would've thought, but his career was steady, his girlfriend was getting directing opportunities left and right, and he may finally be man enough to look at the future.
“I think my commercial is up next, get your ass in here!”
It was a quiet night in, Jody comfortably lounging on their apartment couch with her sandwich. Colt huffed a laugh and walked into the room, his own dinner in his hands.
“How could you know that? Did they give you the exact break schedule?”
Jody, amazing as ever, had finally started the promotion process for her second directorial debut. While Colt knew it was the same commercial Marketing had shared with them, seeing it on the TV was different.
Especially now that Jody got to have a normal movie filming experience. No kidnappings, murders, faked-deaths, or anything. She had made Colt promise this time.
(Colt would argue he didn’t exactly make that all happen last time, but whatever.)
The current channel cut to commercial right as Colt sat down, and they saw the first glimpse at Tidal Eclipse, the trailer showing a tsunami wave cresting over a colony on the moon.
God, Jody looked so proud.
The trailer announcer blared, “Coming So–”
The screen cut to the news, and a stern looking reporter began speaking.
“We interrupt this programming with breaking news from Project Hail Mary, and an update from the explosion confirmed at the Baikonur Cosmodrome launch facility. As reported previously, both science experts Dr. Martin DuBois and Dr. Annie Shapiro were killed in the blast, however, we are just getting word that Director of the project, Eva Stratt has confirmed that a replacement has been selected.”
“This comes after worries that the launch would be delayed, bringing into question the climate models proposed by Dr. Francois Leclerc. Director Stratt has confirmed that the launch will proceed as normal.”
A picture appeared onscreen next to the reporter, and Colt stared at his own face.
What?
Jody let out a small laugh. “Someone either needs to work on their photo validation or you have a clone, Colt.”
His ears rang so loud he barely heard it.
“Our sources confirm that Dr. Ryland Grace volunteered late yesterday. He has been part of the project since the early stages, and is the world leading scientist on astrophage for Project Hail Mary. We here at Channel 10 News would like to thank Dr. Grace for his sacrifice, as he will be part of the team instrumental to helping Earth solve the astrophage problem.”
His sacrifice.
His sacrifice.
Colt didn’t pay much mind to the astrophage thing. Sure, it was depressing as hell and definitely a problem, but what could he do? He was a stunt man, and he just told himself that people way smarter than him would figure it out.
Which apparently included his brother, of course.
One thing he did know about the project is that it was a suicide mission. Several months into the start of the disaster, it was hard to escape that fact. Every news channel spread phone numbers and websites for people to throw their name into the ring for “Savior of Earth”.
And his brother was on that mission.
Ryland was going on a suicide mission.
“--olt? Colt!” Jody shook his arm, hard.
Colt shook his head sharply, trying to shake off the numbness that fell over his limbs.
His mouth opened and closed, trying to come up with something, anything, that would explain a small bit of what he was feeling.
All he came up with was, “That’s my twin brother.”
Whatever Jody was expecting him to say, that wasn’t it. She took the plate that was halfway falling out of his hands and set it to the side. Fine by him, he wasn’t hungry anymore anyways.
“You have a brother? Colt, I-,” Jody started. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”
Oh, boy. “We– We got separated pretty early on into the foster system. I didn’t think I’d see him again.”
Every word came out flat, and Colt was sure he would freak out about this later. But right now, he just couldn’t because his brother was out there and he was about to be flung in to the far-fucks of space.
“So you didn’t know he was– that he–” Jody deflated as she came to the same realization that he had. “Shit.”
She looked at him for a moment, and in lieu of adding more words on the fire that was Colt’s brain right now, she simply opened her arms and hugged him.
Ryland Grace was in space.
Which was, admittedly, not great.
But not everything was bad! Today, he remembered his name.
It was a low bar, but the bar had to start somewhere.
Also today, he had found the crew's personal items. He had already set Ilyukina’s vodka off to the side for later.
(You try waking up in space, you try staying sober.)
His bag was nothing to write home about. Instead of a fancy patch like Ilyukina or Yao, his had a quick ‘Grace’ scrawled in Sharpie.
The shirts were nice, better than that dang plastic suit he had woken up in. And the quilt was better than the scratchy thin hotel-esque blankets he’d been using.
The photos were… interesting.
It was like looking at a picture taken in a memory of a dream.
Yes, that was him.
And yes, he was sure that he was at these locations in the photos.
But he had no recollection of being there.
There also weren’t many. One was of him in some lab, by himself. Another of him in some cramped metal-box of an office, alone. And the last was also him.
Or at least he thinks it's him.
Grace had stared at the three pictures for a long time, trying to remember literally anything about himself or his life before, and he is absolutely sure that is not his nose in the third picture.
It was taken outside, some beach in the background. He (?) is smiling, looking at somebody out of view. But his nose is crooked, like it’s been broken enough that it just gave up healing right. And his arms are huge, and while Grace has some muscles now, he knows that was definitely not the case on Earth.
On Earth. Because that’s a past tense phrase Grace can use now.
And finally, he’s with someone. Three photos aren’t much to go off of in terms of his social life, but the sheer loneliness he’s felt on the Hail Mary hurt, yes, but it hurt in a familiar way.
He was used to being alone like this. Like he could be in a room full of people and still feel out of place.
Who knows, maybe that familiarity was helping him as the sole survivor of a space mission.
Maybe a brother? Twin? He feels like he would remember a twin, but, again, he didn’t remember his name until today, so what does he know?
He wonders what that goodbye was like, telling his brother that he wasn’t coming back. What kind of person was he that he could say goodbye like that?
Colt doesn’t know how many people he called. Or Jody for that matter.
The Hail Mary was launching in one day. One.
Sure, most of their connections were in the entertainment business, but surely someone somewhere had a number of anyone on Project Hail Mary.
He just needed a number.
He just needed to talk to Ryland before he was gone again. Permanently, this time.
“Oh, yes! Thank you, thank you!” He heard Jody say, jumping out of the slump she had been in and scrambling for a pen.
Colt shot off the couch, almost running to the kitchen counter where she was, scribbling out a number.
“Yes, I got it, thank you so much, I owe you!”
Last night, they had talked. A lot.
Colt tried to explain why he hadn’t mentioned Ryland once. Jody didn’t seem to mind that part much, probably trying not to make Colt more upset about the whole “my twin brother is going on a suicide mission” thing, but Colt felt like he had to say something.
“I tried to find him. I couldn’t. I guess he took the last name Grace from one of the families he was with.” Colt shook his head. “A last name. A last name kept me from him.” He shifted on the couch. “I didn’t think I would ever see him again. It hurt too much to think about him. So I tried not to.”
“Do you want to try and talk to him again before he leaves?” Jody asked.
“Yes,” Colt found himself saying, not even having to think about it.
Jody had also tried asking some more lighthearted questions about their childhood growing up together, but other than saying Ryland had always been the smart twin, Colt didn’t feel like sharing much else.
“I got the number to one of the lead scientists on the project, Dr. Lamai! Apparently, I knew someone who knew someone who had a family member who volunteered for one of her studies,” Jody said, a wide smile on her face. “We finally have a connection to someone on the inside.”
Colt scrambled to grab his phone, shakily typing in the number, but his thumb didn’t move.
“I– I don’t know what to say.”
Jody set her hand gently on his wrist. “Just say the truth. That’ll be enough to get the conversation going.”
He hit the green call button, immediately putting it on speaker.
It rang for a few seconds too long and Colt began to worry this was another dead end, another thing that he didn’t have time for.
“Hello?” came an accented voice from over the phone.
“Y-yes, hi,” said Colt. “I was hoping to talk to Ryland Grace?”
“Excuse me, who is this?” Dr. Lamai said more urgently. Shit, gotta give details, Colt.
“My name is Colt Seavers. I’m Ryland’s twin brother. I, uh, haven’t seen him in a while.” Understatement. “I saw the news and wanted to,” he trailed off. What did he want?
Obviously to talk to Ryland, but what the hell would that do? There was no relationship that ended well with one person dying in space.
The line was quiet for a moment. “He never mentioned a brother,” Dr. Lamai said. “Then again, he doesn’t talk much of himself.” They heard a small sigh. “Either way, it doesn’t matter if you are lying. I’m sorry, Mr. Seavers. Dr. Grace has already been put in an induced coma for launch tomorrow.”
Oh.
“Okay, r-right. That’s, uh,” Colt said smartly. “Thanks for letting me know.”
A long stretch of silence hung over the call before Dr. Lamai said, "Would you like my email? As far as I know we didn't have time to get many personal affects. I'm sure he would like a photo or something similar."
Colt let out a shaky breath. "Yes, thank you."
They both watched the launch the next day, and if Colt thought about it too long, he could feel part of himself being shot into space along with the rocketship.
So, aliens are real.
Well, obviously. His ship, as he has reminded himself, is fueled by millions of little alien cells.
But intelligent, slightly snarky aliens? Very real.
He and Rocky had been making steady progress in communicating. Honestly, Grace had never seen himself as much of a ‘language’ guy, but being stuck in space with his only company being a guy who can only speak in various musical notes?
He’s picked up a few things.
Rocky, of course, has to outshine him and does not need to be reminded of certain translations, and instead just remembers perfectly.
He’s in the tunnel Rocky built between their two ships, laying stiffly on his small padded mattress he had dragged in. Above him, Rocky sits perfectly still through the xenonite.
“Grace sleep, question?” Rocky hums out.
Grace shifts slightly, pulling up his quilt. “Yeah, bud. It’s just been awhile since someone watched me sleep.”
And while Grace can’t prove that for sure, it just feels right.
His memories haven’t been too bad lately. And by that, he means they still look like swiss cheese but at least he can tell it was cheese.
But some things he just knows. And he knows someone used to watch over him like Rocky is doing now.
It’s not a bad feeling.
Rocky lets out a few sad notes. “Grace Rocky not alone. Rocky watch Grace sleep.”
Grace feels a strange smile grow on his face. “Grace Rocky not alone,” he repeats.
It doesn’t take long after that to fall asleep.
In his dreams, he is on Earth. A dense fog covers a rocky expanse of beach, waves lapping against the shore.
He relaxes, content to stay here for a while.
Huh. He relaxes.
Grace had never had a lucid dream before. But, he guesses, it’s not uncommon.
Sure, why not? He relaxes into the dream, feeling the irregular breeze on his skin, as opposed to predictable spaceship AC.
The rocky sand crunches behind him, and Grace turns.
It’s him.
Not him, as in Grace, but him as in the maybe-twin in the photo.
He has this sad, stricken face on him, and is standing stock still several feet away.
“Hey there,” Grace attempts.
“Ry?”
…
…
…
He had a brother.
Not just a hypothesis, not a guess, a fact.
That was his brother.
Colt.
He shoots up, bashing his head onto the xenonite above.
“Ah, crap!” Grace exclaims.
Rocky scrambles up from the engineering project he was working on. “Grace hurt! What happen sleep?”
Grace rubs his forehead, and god, does that sting. “I’m fine, Rocky, just gonna have a bruise later.”
“What word mean?”
“Uh, I’ll explain later. It’s a temporary hurt but I will heal fine.”
“You not say what happen,” Rocky says, tapping his claws impatiently.
Grace should’ve explained the bruise when he had the chance. “Humans, uh, can see things when they sleep. It’s not actually happening, and could be a memory or totally made up. It helps us process certain emotions, I think. We call them dreams. I just had a shocking one, is all. It made me wake up suddenly.”
He would keep the memory part to himself, because if that wasn’t a whole case of worms he would have to work through. He could feel a cluster of memories trying to bubble upward, but Grace did not have the emotional bandwidth for that right now.
“Humans strange,” Rocky hums, one of his favorite phrases.
“Understatement,” Grace agrees. “How long was I asleep?”
“Not long enough for human body. Sleep.”
And Grace sleeps.