Chapter Text
Grace has no family, and he will die on that hill.
Sure by blood he has some family that are alive. None that he has spoken to since he moved away at 18 out of the foster home. Away from the guy who shares his face, his best friend. His ex best friend. The one he fought with over his constant protection and guarding. How they both grew further apart as they fought on it all. The system, how Grace could get adopted, how neither wanted to leave each other. Until they… Until the scientist shut him out of his life fully to exist alone within the wonders of labs and information.
He was meant to be alone anyways, after all, twins are just genetic anomalies.
It was worse moving away from the headstone of the eldest brother he could barely remember at the time. Heck his memories blur over the guy now with bags as dark as the night, the way bruises traced his features from riots and fights within the prison. His punishment for taking a gun to shoot their father at the age of 16. Because Grace wasn’t man enough. A wimpy scrawny 12 year old who could never defend himself.
He caused his death in a way, to the riots within the prison. If only he hadn’t cried.
God sometimes wonders what the twin athletic and bold, protective and monitoring is doing now. Do they miss him? But it doesn't matter to him now! It's been way too long and he is now someone else. And by now he is sure those who share his blood have long moved on. It's been years! He knows his twin definitely had. Must have after this long.
He shrugs off the thought as he uses a pipet to add more nitrogen into the tank holding his Astrophage. Ryan Gosling, Ken and Sebastian. His trio was gifted just for his tests and experiments to build up the database he has began almost 5 months ago. His adorable children form a brand new branch of astrophage since his originals all were taken away for tests. He misses them, he knows that he wouldn’t exactly be here if they were unbreedable.
Stratt of course is across the glass monitoring him with some guards to make sure he doesn’t do something cause his work blows up and bust him up. Like always. In fact, lately, Stratt monitors him more.
Making sure he is healthy and is respected by other scientists who mock him sometimes for old papers he did. None of which he will deny. There must be some species out there that can survive outside the goldilocks zone. Has to be. But anyways! He avoids lingering on it as he watches his kiddos react to the new element. Bouncing slightly in joy. Speeding back and forth. Used to the Nitrogen from Venus, adapting to the new dosage quickly. Good to note down as he jots it down on the laptop to email to himself later. They will need to be left in the dark for a little while, so not much Grace can do for now. That causes a sigh of relief as he arches his back and cracks his fingers. Wincing slightly to the noise but knowing its best relieves pressure.
“That's all I can do for a couple hours” He shouts looking at Stratt who takes a note writing it down on her clipboard. Her gaze cold as her flame hair falls upon her shoulders in a mess, despite her status, Grace notes as always the lack of care to tying it up. She always seems to prefer it down in the labs, in the day, at meetings- Okay you get it, everywhere.
“Right then Dr Grace. Make sure you go straight to your room for now.” He is used to the routine as he nods and exits his quarantine area to be sterilised to be back into the lab area. Which is of course pretty quick to be honest given his need to just wash his hands and get out of his suit. Shedding his plastic shell is comforting to say the least as he scrubs his hands to avoid any ammonia or whatever chemicals seeping into his skin as deadly killers when he next eats some waffles. He wonders to himself if it was waffle day or pancake day within the cafeteria for dessert. However he also knows how ridiculous the idea is.
Outside of his mini lab he sees his friend Bob, a guard who is trained in the Russian military assigned to protect Grace. Of course Grace doesn’t need to question why given the whole, scientists being like gold to the project for everyone to protect. Although he has always doubted the need to monitor and protect him. After all he is just a teacher who has delved into this type of stuff years ago. However deep in his heart he misses Carl, his friend, his ally who helped create his first children. He has been assigned elsewhere for a while now training some new guard from some organisation C.O.I who is soon to be assigned to the scientist much to his dismay. Shaking his head he heads to Bob.
“Hey Bob! How is your day going!” He begins, smiling at the guy who glances at him used to the behaviour and walks ahead. His gaze is steady. “Fine Dr Grace.”
“You can call me just Grace you know!” He pouts as he puts his hands inside his cardigan. The one with foxes knitted carefully into the panels, it had been such a pain to make but worth it in the end. Nicer than wolves and Grey hounds. The original pattern was a bit of a pain to change but he had some free periods between teaching his kids a couple years back and well he has adored it ever since. Bob seems to huff as he turns away to move. Always the formal one is his Bob, always uptight about everything and every action he takes. Always on the lookout rather than conversational. His tall stature makes Grace feel worse than anything else all the time. “You know we could go to the cafeteria-”
“You know the rules Dr Grace, you are to stay safe in your room or with others in a lab between tests for your safety.” Grace can feel the boredom eat at him already at the idea of being alone at his desk all day instead of anywhere else, actually doing stuff. Ever since last week, Stratt has been way too uptight with him. He gets it though, a week before the launch of the Hail Mary, and he has information on the project. Who knows what some rogue would want with that but it drives him mad sometimes. Why does everyone keep balancing around him? Making sure he gets whatever he wants? Keeping him in containment areas?
He could of course still train the scientists who also had guards around them, the ones destined to die in the stars. Once he helped decide how they would prefer to die. That thought still sickens him but still he tries to avoid it. He knows they find it normal given they asked him how he would go in space with approval of Stratt. Odd but he did tell them. Poison. Being injected in his sleep surrounded by warmth and some things he likes. This of course was noted by Stratt which weirded him out. Especially when security around him tightened.
He tries to ignore it as he follows his guard onto the ship deck, past onyx planes and jets off Russia and America. The money made for this project causes Grace to find himself lost. The world uniting for once, wars becoming minimal but for personal gain. Not society. Not humanity. Themselves. He shrugs it off as he passes by one where he sees a figure watching. Odd to say the least. Tallish, like the guards with golden wisps in the foggy sunlight. A suit? Why is he focusing on that? That someone is dressed in a grey suit waiting.
Watching.
He tries to shrug it off but he can’t as he pauses a moment to watch as they blend back into the shadows. Silent. Controlled. A shudder travels up his spine as he grips his sleeves, the wool itchy under the sweat pooling in his palms. His vision is slightly hazing as his mind travels through millions of possibilities. Bob seems to notice his hesitancy as he turns back to the scientist in a dorky cat shirt and calculating eyes. The one who seems to coil slightly at the stern gaze like that telling off of a child. “Dr Grace.”
“I uhm-” He pauses swallowing before forcing a smile to draw away the unease filling his chest. The pain in his legs from the hike up from the depths of the ship is more visible now as he lingers his gaze to the distance. Maybe he is going a bit insane. He knows he hasn’t properly slept in what 28 hours, something like that. Too much to do, so little time. But he forces himself to look away as he nervously rubs the back of his neck. “Right, sorry I thought I saw someone.”
He watches as the guard tutts and steps forward towards the overarching doorway down to the trailer like rooms. He goes to follow but freezes at the sudden motion of the hulk of a man drop to his knees and go silent. Like dead weight, sudden, unassuming. Tactical.
His heart pounds as he rushes over to check their pulse. His medical knowledge, the little he has, acting to a hundred as sees a feathered dart stick out of the man's neck. Straight into a vein on his neck. Where whatever was in this thing could get around the blood stream quick enough but anyone could notice that he was hit. Whoever shot them is trained alright, ready to act quickly. Instinctively, once a pulse is found, he grabs the walkie talkie to get to anyone. Stratt, Carl, other scientists, Yao, anyone.
His wrist however gets snatched as he falls backwards straight onto his stomach by a solid grip. The motion winding him as he struggles against the grip to make a break for it once more. His grip on the walkie tight as he can as he tries to force his finger down to turn it on, hearing the slight hiss of static.
“Don’t you fucking dare Grace.” The harsh tone catches him off guard as the only communication he has is yanked out his hand. His entire body flipped so the arm digging his elbow into his back is now in front of him. A pleasantry given the fact he is being held by the person he saw earlier. The one who looks like him, way too much like him. The only difference? They are older and seem to look annoyed more than anything. His heart beats in his chest like a kicking hare as he pulls his wrist, twisting it to nimbly escape their engagement. Daring not to think on it more he attempts to bolt it scrambling to his feet to run off. His palms aching slightly from the force to push himself up. His feet pound the metal ground beneath him as he rushes back the way he and Bob came. His voice is hoarse and scratchy as he wails like a weirdo.
“STRATT! FUDGE!” He screams listening to the footsteps approaching him calmly, why ain’t he faster! He curses to himself over the childish tone he plays even away from students. Still despite a raw high pitched scream escapes his throat as his glasses slip down his nose. He keeps his pace, trying to bring in some of the genes he has in primal instincts of fleeing. His feet hitting the floor as hard as he can before being yanked by his yellow coat into the arms of the man. His body immediately rebels as his cream cardi peaks out of the mustard coat, as if the foxes themselves wish to flee too. He twists and turns which earns an annoyed huff from the captor. “Calm down.”
“GET OFF! STRATT! CARL! ANYONE! INTRUDER-” He finds a hand over his mouth to muffle his shouts and cries as he is spun to look at his captor once again who seems annoyed, for sure, but for some reason? Nostalgic. Those eyes like his, soft almost amongst scars tracing his brows. He doesn’t care as he tries to struggle against the iron hold clamping his mouth, the other hand gripping his wrists with ease.
“Grace it's me, Courtland.” That causes his mind to go a hundred times an hour for sure. That a guy who sure looks like him claiming to be his dead brother. The one who died years ago! The one who died in Prison for gods sake. “MHM?!”
“Yeah yeah, ask later.” He feels himself get picked up with ease and placed the opposite side of the man towards the landed birds on the metal runways. Their grip is harsh but almost gentle at the same time on the scientist’s shoulder. His wrists are free now but he can’t find the strength to push and hit someone who claims to be Court. His court, his big brother. The one he got killed, the one who if he is means he isn’t a complete monster. After all these long years, 20 years. If he is breathing, why would he dare fight?
“Now you're going to get into one of those jets quietly now and we are going on a trip to a safehouse where Colt already is waiting for us.” Colt?! Now Grace could really feel his reality tear apart. And despite his mind, his body acts like a trapped rabbit, like a hunted fox. So he tries to resist, pulling away and kicking the guy claiming to be Court. His Court. The same big brother who would comfort him after their fathers rages, the same Court who fought to protect him, the same Court who he saw through bulletproof glass. The same one who now is alive after so many goddamn years! He manages to give a shove even if it's a little choosing to kick. He manages to scramble free of the grip on his shoulder as his captor yelps slightly while Ryland tries not correlate to a chuckle as he begins running back to the area where he sees Stratt stand with guards flanking her sides. With that he flees faster, ever so close. So close to the German with a cold glare to the other blonde who grips something.
“For fucks sake!” His ass lands hard on the ground as the man claiming to be his brother digs his knee into his back. His face splits in pain, probably from the friction. More than likely his lip popping open when he bit it in the fall. He flayles and resists, turning to push them off to no avail. “Stay still! You have made this way too difficult Ry!” The man above shifts to glare at his boss who watches the scientist calculating. “Who the hell are you! Release Dr Grace!”
“I don’t think I will.” The person on him speaks as Grace feels his wrists get grabbed in their spot in front of his face, reaching for help, and being bound by rope with almost careful precision. How the hell do they have rope! And how can they tie it so well! “HEY!” He retaliates by trying to twist to get them off, earning the knee going deeper into his shoulder blade causing him to bite back his retaliation. His girly scream cut short before he can even realise it has even happened. Stratt steps forward with her guards flanking her sides. “He is under the world Government's use-”
“What? As a backup in case your scientists disappear!” He tenses at that. What?... He swallows hard at that. No no Stratt wouldn’t do that, those lot are trained astronauts and are protected and are safe and alive and healthy and… Oh dear fucking god he is being overprotected. They have been having him help in zero gravity simulations, they have made sure he knows every step in the Project Hail Mary. The others think he is Stratts right hand man! Oh fuck. Still he can’t linger on that! Not when there is a guy who claims to be his big brother holding him hostage! “It's for the good of humanity.”
“Well he ain’t being on this project any more. Absolute idiot is a right rat to track, I swear to god.” He feels his heart sink as the guy releases their knee off his back and pulls him up by the hood. Careful not to injure him more which in a weird way he's thankful for. His legs are as wobbly as a thorn as he regains his footing, his lip stinging. He swallows back iron leaking in his mouth as he moves his wrist to try to remove the rope which for a reason which he can never get to as his ‘brother’ smacks his hands with a glare and yanks him closer with his hood.
“You take him and you won’t make it off this ship alive-” Stratt begins, her Green eyes as cold as stone as she plows forward only to be interrupted by a scoff and an arrogant laugh so much like the one Grace remembers deep in his memory. One where his brother would talk so happily, gloating on how high up he was in the chain of prisoners. How strong he was. “Oh I think I will be taking my brother Stratt.”
“Brother?” The ginger pauses her gaze piercing enough to cause even Grace to shudder. He has seen many looks from that woman, but this? This one is the most telling. She has learnt something new. Something key. Something she has to stop. “You have 5 seconds-”
“You're threatening a trained Assassin from the CIA and Sierra program who can and would kill your guards with ‘Dr Grace’ slumped over my shoulder.” Stratt seems to sense the danger as she holds up an arm ready to attack. At any second. Grace feels fear swell in his own throat at that threat as he stumbles as he gets manhandled again to be slightly behind the man who keeps a grip on his hood for another a second. A second that Stratt goes to lower her arm. A second which the man doesn’t give her as he pulls out a grenade and yanks off the tap. Grace watches as it spins through the air at his allies, watching as the sound rips through the air.
BANG!
His ears ring as he coils, his bound hands covering his ears to avoid the splitting headache already blooming. His eyes struggling to focus on the world now spinning until he recognizes the slight second of his body being free, mostly. So he utilises it despite the pain to run as fast as possible towards the inside of the ship. If he can get in, guards can protect him- Even if they are basically preparing him to die! It's better than being captured! He stumbles reaching a dazed guard who grabs his arm to escort him away quickly.
He doesn’t resist as he follows them so close to the doorway, so very-
BANG!
He can barely register it all as the man drops to his knees, his grip gone as the crimson clings to his face. Oh dear god… Even if it's just the hand, even if the man is alive just yelling, Grace finds himself stumbling back with his own scream unappealing as he tries to back up just to be grabbed again. “For fucks sake Grace, they will be fine!” The voice is harsh as they yank his hood and pull him upwards as he squirms. Tears stinging his eyes in terror as they rest him on their shoulders. Careful to not cause too much discomfort.
“Let go!” He begins as he gets jostled by the man who walks with no fear past catching flames of crates. He flayles and sobs like a man child. Something he despises, like a coward. “No you dipshit!” They move towards the flightless birds which sits with an open door as he squirms more and more with shouting falling to deaths ears as he screams words like ‘Fudge’ and ‘ass hat’ earning a chuckle from the fellow blonde as he swiftly, without effort really, moves Grace as he finds himself being lifted up into the now open jet and fastened into a seat.
Like a child.
He pulls against his restraints with bound hands as his breath quickens. His vision becomes smaller as he tries to get out. This cannot be happening! Sure he has been kidnapped before but last time he at least had more information beyond a guy claiming to be his brother and taking him away from here to colt! This guy notices as he grabs the man's bound hands away from the seat belt. “Breath Grace or else I will knock you out.”
“Why should I! You just threw a grenade at my boss!” The guy seems to tut at that as he climbs into the pilot seat, pressing down the buttons to close the hatch. “YOU SHOT SOMEONE!”
“And I could have done worse, they will be fine by the end of next month” Grace finds his heart rising as he sputters out rebellions which are ignored as the man begins clicking his own seatbelt and turning keys. Before he takes off he shoves two pills at the scientist’s mouth who coils back. Like hell he will do this! He struggles as it gets pushed more at his mouth as he pushes against a hand that grabs his mouth with his tied hands.
“Eat the goddamn motion sickness Shit Grace. We both know you cannot handle flights.” He resists more till the guy claiming to be his Court yanks open his mouth and tosses them in with a look of annoyance on his face. Holding shut the man's jaw to make sure he actually swallows it for once.
Grace decides to give up and swallow it as the man smiles slightly, a softening in his eyes before he shoves a helmet gently onto the scientist's head. Placing his own on, he spins back forward to fly the bird into the skies as he stares at the ship shrinking into the distance. His home for the past 4 months. His friends on that ship moving away from the amber flames rising up. His mind travels to the traces of his friends lost between if they are really his friends, or foes, using him.
Of course he knows they are now, but he also… understands? He knows himself… he is a coward, a wimp, he would never do it himself. Never take the moment to snatch his life away. If it came to it… would he run?
He finds his thoughts dulling as the jet becomes more airborne, his eyes going blurrier than they should with his glasses straggy and messed up. His body is becoming heavier. His voice comes out more loopy, messy, quiet. “What… why do I feel so…”
“Sleepy? I told you if you didn’t calm down I would knock your ass out.” He mumbles in response to his headache and pain in his mouth dulling as the seat suddenly feels more relaxing than before. “Before you panic, the sedative is fast acting, tested by myself. You will be fine… You will go to sleep okay and will wake up at a safehouse with Colt and myself.” He can barely focus as he leans his helmeted head against the glass pulling his bound arms closer into himself. “Mm no…” His voice sounds so childish, so young as he winces slightly.
“You will be fine grace, like hell you're going to space and like hell am I going to let my baby brother suffer.” His tone is cut throat as grace finds himself unfocussing more and more as something fuzzy is thrown over him, as he finds himself resting more and more…
He isn’t here… He is back in the room. Nuzzled against Court in a restful rest at the age of 12, before it began with Colt swung over his legs, his glasses askew. He is being held by the eldest in the warmth of a patchwork blanket.
He coils inward and lets his eyes shut.
“I will not fail again Grace… I promise…”