Chapter Text
~~~~~~~GRACE'S P.O.V.~~~~~~~
Grace woke up to shrill screeching echoing through the house.
"What? What is it?" He sat up in a hurry and tried to blink the blur out of his eyes. He didn't remember going to bed, he must have fallen asleep during the movie. He hadn't done that in a long time. He was sitting on the couch in the living room. He wouldn't have been worried about accidentally falling asleep since Rocky would often offer to watch over him and Simon when they both had to fall asleep. 'Grace need sleep too.' as Rocky would say. He was very upset to find out how sleep deprived they both were since humans were stupid without sleep. Rocky didn't need to sleep as often as they did. To an Eridian, a human sleep cycle was truly not that long.
But that reassurance didn't have a chance to settle in with the screams.
"GRACE HELP" Rocky shouted from the other room.
Grace jumped off the couch and shoved his glasses on as he ran into the bedroom. Rocky was standing on top of Simon, one leg on each of Simon's, plus his torso and arm. He looked like he was grabbing at something. Rocky was muttering to himself, then hearing Grace came in immediately said,
"Simon not wake up. Simon panic."
"Let me get a good look," Grace said.
Rocky looked like he didn't want to, but moved back. Grace was hit by a wave of nausea. Tendrils of bulging, rippling flesh were strapped across Simon like veiny restraints. They were drilled onto so many points of his skin and pulling through the fabric on the bed. Simon was straining against them but they were surrounding every limb. Everywhere his skin touched the mattress had a vein supergluing him to it. They attached him to it like roots grounded a tree. They were growing, the ends of them sticking out from the sides and bottom of the bed, dripping blood and sweat. Simon was struggling against them with widened eyes.
"I thought you said he was still sleeping," Grace said, moving forward.
"Simon still sleeps," Rocky did his form of nodding by moving his carapace, "Bad. Rocky try wake Simon. Not work. Rocky try to stop thing, not work. Can't get Simon aware. Can't keep safe. Don't know,"
Simon was freaking out in a way they hadn't seen before. He was letting out uninitelligeable, guttural screams. Screeching really was the perfect way to describe it. Something deep inside Grace felt the urgency of the noise. It was frayed and ugly and loud. And somehow, still very human. In a way that communicated danger much more efficiently than words. In a way that pushed the fear of death into your bones. Telling your nervous system to run whether or not you ran with it.
"Simon?" Grace tried to yell over him, "Can you hear me?"
Simon finally had run out of air for screaming. He was tilting his head backwards as he repeatedly gasped like the wind had been knocked out of him. Grace tried to take this moment as an opportunity.
"I'm here. It's just a dream. Can you wake up for me? You just gotta wake up," Grace said,
Simon was crying, his eyes still not showing a sign of hearing Grace. He was unresponsive to what Grace was saying.
"Is it just these veins, Rocky?"
"Teeth forming. Not through barrier. Had to start over after removed,"
"How much time do you think we have?" Grace said,
"Thirty earth minutes before growths become too danger,"
"That's not what I was hoping for," Grace said,
"This... normal human thing?" Rocky asked, knowing the answer.
"Not normal. At all." Grace said, "Can you tell if they're doing something?"
"Other than stop Simon? Pain,"
Grace turned his attention back to Simon, shouting and trying to get him to wake up. He still didn't respond. Grace grabbed Simon by the shoulders.
"WAKE UP!"
Simon was gasping for air without letting a single breath fully sink in. This was really freaking bad.
"GRACE!" Rocky's pitch had skyrocketed, "LET GO!!!"
Grace hadn't realized. He had done it without thinking. He quickly pulled his hands back, but he was met with resistance. A sticky sort of membrane had connected his hands to Simon. He struggled to pull his hands back. It stung like a chemical spill and stretched like hot gum on the sole of a shoe. He managed to pull fast enough to separate it. He looked at his hands, skin had peeled off of his palms in sloughs. His skin looked raw and shiny. He shivered at the sight.
"Bad bad bad," Rocky was muttering, "Grace wash."
Grace was staring. What was that? How did that happen?
"GRACE. WASH." Rocky said, waving his arms about.
"Keep trying to wake him!" Grace said, running to the kitchen sink.
The bathroom had been closer, but he wanted to close the distance between himself and Armando. He might need the medical knowledge depending on how this went. He turned the water on with the back side of his hand, grateful that the handle didn't need to be twisted. He stuck his hands underneath the cool water. He winced. Even though he had only grabbed Simon for a few seconds, this was a bad burn. Grace was guessing this was closer to a chemical burn than one from a flame. Even if he was wrong, he needed to be thorough about cleaning his skin. His immune system was not built for whatever illnesses could come from chemical burns centuries in the future. Good thing he was already quarantined from everyone on Earth.
"Give me a countdown on time, Rocky!"
Normally he would rinse burns for upwards of twenty minutes and head to a doctor with this kind of a burn. But if they really did only have half an hour to get Simon up...
After ten minutes, he turned off the sink, patted his hands dry and searched around for his gloves. He tried to pull them on as he ran back to the bedroom, wincing as the thick plastic pulled against his skin.
"Need make these die," Rocky had concluded. He sounded sure of himself. "If not die, Simon die,"
Rocky sounded grim as he turned towards Grace.
"I don't know how to begin to try and kill these things! I'm a MOLECULAR biologist! Not an exterminator!"
"Want Simon to live. Need to stop problem. Need predator for thing,"
"Do you know how long it would take me to find the weakness for something like this!?" Grace said, covering his ears as Simon started screaming again,
"Twenty." Rocky said.
"Ugh. Okay, let's just start with what we know: They're acting as a parasite, and they feed on Simon,"
That wasn't a lot to go off of. Maybe he could do a quick analysis with a sample? He tried to pry one of the smaller parts of the vein off the bed. It latched onto his gloves immediately, but Grace was using some heavy duty ones so it wasn't an issue. He tried slicing it with a scalpel, to no avail.
"How am I supposed to learn if I can't even analyze this thing!" Grace said in frustration, putting headphones on to try and block out the noise.
"Know more than say." Rocky pointed out, still trying to pry the bloody root system off of Simon. "Thrive off conditions of human body. Like Tauameba thrive on Planet Adrian,"
That was a good point. Maybe Grace wasn't getting specific enough. If this thing was happily tagging along inside of Simon, it had to like the natural state the human body was at. Except- maybe it was just surviving at the normal state. It only grew when Simon was not in a healthy state. What if the dreams weren't random? What if it was intentional? Maybe they were trying to get Simon to freak out on purpose, not just lashing out? They were laying out mental traps to get Simon scared.
Why? Why would you force someone into such a dangerous emotional state if your life depends on the host?
What changes when Simon is panicking?
The growths quicken in pace, for one thing. It seems to be stronger. But they already knew that. So what else is going on? The sheer amount of teeth, blood, and growth had been bothering Grace's sense of logic. Where were they getting material from? You can't create something from nothing, it's one of the fundamental rules of how we understand the universe. Even Astrophage needed what was essentially a molecule buffet in order to create enough energy to propel forward and procreate. So maybe this thing was eating.
It was eating human. That was Grace's first guess. But that didn't quite add up either. Wouldn't be more obvious signs of that? Simon would be losing mass or showing symptoms more regularly. They wouldn't only grow during panic attacks. So it had to be tied to what the body does under intense emotional stressors.
Okay, so, fight-or-flight. It had to be relying on the human's fight-or-flight response in order to grow. Something about the adrenaline, cortisol, rapid breathing, and increased blood pressure. That made some kind of sense. The body basically makes a five-course meal of chemicals, hormones, and fuel if it thinks it's in danger. A hotbed of energy. It would be a field day for the parasite. It was probably waiting for Simon to sleep because it was a lot easier to freak someone out in a dream where you're in control of what they're seeing. As opposed to when they're listening to Bob Ross or dancing to Whitney Houston.
So how could he wake him up?
Ah, Grace had perfectly circled back to the problem with no new ideas. Had he made up a long, unscientific explanation for how and why things were happening? Sure. But it didn't give him new answers on what to do here.
"17 minutes."
Already?
"Armando!" Grace said, rushing back out into the living room, "How do you wake us up in case of emergency?"
There had to have been a way to induce the astronauts into waking up in case the ship needed help.
"Stop the inducers," Armando said pleasantly.
Shoot. Grace forgot. The sleep was medically administered. So to stop them from sleeping they would just stop forcing them to sleep. Grace hadn't imagined that waking someone up would be this much of a struggle.
Maybe if they knew what the thing thrived on, they could reverse engineer what they wouldn't like. Simon was feverish, breathing heavily, and probably had a high blood pressure due to the panic. The fever was a problem, so he should try dealing with that first. He grabbed a cloth from the bathroom and soaked it in tepid water. He set it on Simon's forehead gently.
15 minutes.
"Let's try and get him to sit up, to help him breathe,"
Rocky and Grace pulled Simon by the chest, but the stupid veins had drilled too far.
"Cut," Rocky said,
"I tried that earlier,"
"Try to sample, not off," Rocky said.
He was right, Grace had to be more aggressive. He grabbed a breadknife from the kitchen. Unfortunately, holding it with these huge gloves felt reminiscent of the spacesuit. Grace hated doing things with sharp objects and sloppy grip. He couldn't get a grip very well without the bending plastic pressing into the sensitive parts of his skin. This was so stupidly, dangerous. They didn't have enough time to come up with another option right now. He adjusted his grip so the knife wasn't facing Simon, and he could pull it towards himself as he sawed the growths. He could feel his arms aching as he kept trying to get rid of these stupid things. Maybe there was a way to speed this up. If they were causing Simon's fever, maybe they liked a warm environment? Maybe the cold would help. There was a pretty solid chance the fever was a symptom instead of a goal, though. It wasn't worth trying to come up with something to test the hypothesis. He was finally managing to cut through these things. He had finally gotten the hang of this process. Rocky was struggling on the other side of Simon.
"You need something sharp," Grace said, "We can't brute force it,"
Come to think of it, that wasn't very comforting. Rocky was used to a planet with much stronger gravity. If he was struggling to pull this stuff off with his enhanced strength...
"Trying soft. Should Rocky use more?" He said. Ohhh. He was worried about hurting Simon.
"We don't have time to be careful, just get rid of them," Grace said.
Rocky put two of his arms between the mattress and Simon, looping the veins around his arms. He used his other three legs for leverage, pushing against the frame of the bed. He pulled, the veins stretching further and further as he pulled. He had to put his arms over his carapace before they actually snapped. Grace set the knife down and tried to lift Simon again. The rest of the roots along Simon's legs made it a struggle. Rocky helped place stuff beneath Simon's torso and prop him up.
Seven minutes.
"He's still too warm, Rocky," Grace said. Simon was breathing deeper, but he was still losing the color in his face, drenched in sweat.
"Go get more water, Rocky work in here,"
Grace raced off, he grabbed a few towels and soaked them in tepid water. If he used towels that were too cold, it might confuse Simon's automatic response and make him shiver. Which would make him warmer. Which would be bad. Grace grabbed a bucket and shoved some ice from the freezer into it. He couldn't keep running out like this. When he went back, Rocky had done a lot.
Rocky had opened all of the windows and blinds, letting the breeze come in from the biome outside. He had pulled the mattress to the floor and off of the bed frame. He had pulled off as much of the fabric around Simon as he could. He seemed to have been able to get the blankets and clothing off fine, but the bedsheets had ripped in the struggle. Simon was propped up against the bed frame, the extra part of the mattress shoved underneath it to make a kind of chair. Rocky had moved Simon's hair over the frame so it wouldn't stick to his skin.
Grace knelt down next to him.
"Keep trying to get the growth off of him. If we can get rid of the attachment to the mattress it will make it easier to move him if we need to." Grace said.
Rocky went into action so fast it was like he knew what Grace was going to ask before he did. Grace struggled, but managed to kick the mattress out from under Simon while Rocky propped up Simon's middle.
Three minutes.
Grace pulled the cloth from earlier off of Simon's face. It was warm already. He threw it into the ice bin, hopefully that would reset the temperature soon. Grace could see Simon's heartbeat pushing underneath his neck. His breathing had taken the turn for the worse, but he wasn't screaming any more. Grace wasn't sure if that was a good thing. Grace wrapped one of the towels around Simon's torso. Simon looked clammy, the color gone from his lips, still sweating. Simon's eyes were unfocused, he was still stuck dreaming.
Two minutes, twenty seven seconds.
"Simon," He threw his headphones to the side as he tried again, "Please wake up,"
Simon let out a small cough before resuming his inconsistent breathing pattern. It wasn't even a pattern. Why was he getting worse? The growth had slowed down if it hadn't stopped completely. Grace was cradling the sides of Simon's face, looking for a sign of recognition. A new emotion. A response. Anything. Simon's breathing was slowing down. It was barely audible. Rocky kept placing ice on the previous towel to melt and had placed the other towel around Simon's legs.
"Simon, you're scaring me," Grace said, "The growths stopped right?"
"Confirmation,"
Grace threw his gloves off and to the side.
"Grace..."
"I need to feel him," Grace didn't clarify if it was an emotional need or a medical one. He had one hand against Simon's jaw, the other dabbing the newly cooled cloth against Simon's skin.
A minute and forty.
What if Rocky's guess was wrong? What if they were already too late? What if Grace took too much of a gamble when he rinsed his burns? What if Simon didn't wake up? No. Don't think about that. It won't happen. He had to wake up. His mind pushed the images of when he had woken up on the Mary. When he found his teammates. They were just gone. He hadn't been awake to help them. He didn't know what killed them. But this was different. Grace was here. He was trying to help and it wasn't good enough. But Simon couldn't leave him. He just couldn't. Stop thinking about it. Someone shut the thoughts down, please.
A minute and twenty.
Grace through the rag to the ground in a burst of emotion. He started crying. He started talking. Why was he still talking? None of this was working. He was just talking to himself, really.
"You've worked too hard. You've done so well, Simon. Look at how much progress you've made! Look how strong you've been. You're getting better!"
That's what they thought at least.
What was Grace going to do if he was gone?
A minute left.
Grace's thoughts were spiraling:
I can't do this. I can't watch this. I can't handle this. I can't do another funeral. I can't. I can't feel it. He's going to die. I'm going to watch him die. I can't let Rocky see me like this. I can't let Rocky see this. He watched his crew die. I can't let him do that again. I can't let him see my reaction to it. I won't be able to control it. I can't cope with this. I can't let Rocky bear the burden of my grief. He's done so much for me. I can't let the Eridian kids see me like this. I can't explain it to them. I can't just avoid them, they would ask where I had gone. I would have to leave. I can't sleep in the room he's going to die in. I would have to leave. I would have to go back to Earth. But I can't handle the trip alone. Even when I got to Earth it wouldn't fix anything. Everyone I had known during the project and everyone I had known before would be dead or not want to see me. How could I explain it to them if they did? How could I live a normal life again? I would be alone again. I can't let him die. He's my responsibility. I promised to help him.
"Simon, please. Not like this." Grace said, tilting Simon's face towards his own. "Simon."
His eyes were so absent. Grace leaned his face in, he could barely feel Simon's breath brushing against his lips.
Twenty seconds.
Grace's breath was catching in his throat. "Please, wake up. You have to wake up."
Rocky had moved beside him, wrapping his arms around Grace. Rocky was making a noise he wasn't familiar with. It wasn't a word. It didn't sound like it. Rocky was crying. He was crying for them. He knew it too. He knew this was bad. Grace didn't care about the risks, he pulled Simon towards him. He supported his torso with his legs, wrapping one arm around his back and the other around Simon's head. He pulled Simon as close as he could. Grace cradled Simon's head against his shoulder. He was rocking back and forth. Rocky was still clinging onto them.
"I'm here, Simon,"
Ten seconds.
Simon's breathing stopped.
"No. No nonono," Grace couldn't stop making noise. He wasn't saying anything that made sense. He had probably stopped saying anything at all, just making desperate noises as he gripped Simon. He ignored the pain in his hands. He could barely feel it compared to the fear burning through his body. "Don't do this to me." He managed to say. "Please don't!"
Grace tried to remember his CPR training. It was a weird feeling to genuinely hope that someone was going into cardiac arrest. Cardiac arrest has a response. Something he could do. Something he knew. He lay Simon onto the floor, he lined his hands up with the center of Simon's chest. He clasped his fingers around his other hand. He locked his elbows. He knelt and leaned forward. He started doing compressions.
"Tell me when I've done thirty," Grace said. Rocky didn't ask questions, even though this probably looked crazy to him. After thirty, Grace tilted Simon's head up. He pinched Simon's nose shut and exhaled into Simon's mouth, took an inhale and exhaled into Simon again.
"Did his chest move?" Grace asked, staring at Simon's chest.
"No." Rocky said.
Grace resumed compressions, he could feel his glasses sliding off his face as he did. Why didn't it work? CPR wasn't really supposed to work immediately, but Simon's lungs still should have expanded at least. Unless there was something in the way of his throat.
The seam in his cheek. It was stopping air from getting to the lungs at all. It must have all released through the other mouth.
Rocky signaled thirty again. Grace tossed his glasses to the side and went in again. He pressed his palm against Simon's cheek and breathed twice. He could feel the air going past his hand. He hoped it was working when Rocky started shouting.
"Move! Move! Move!"
Grace went back to compressions. He wasn't even sure if this was helping. If this even was cardiac arrest. After another round or two, he felt his arms getting weaker. He couldn't let the compressions get too shallow.
"I need you to do the pushing for me after this,"
"Agree," Rocky said,
Grace tried to explain how to administer chest compressions properly as he went. The split focus made his compressions even weaker. He gave two breaths to Simon and Grace rolled to his back.
"Go," Grace said. Rocky was doing the compressions perfectly. Grace let his own arms rest at his sides while he laid on the floor. Please let this work. Please.
"Thirty," Rocky stopped. Grace gave two more breaths. Rocky resumed the compressions.
"Keep going. I need to look for something," Grace said,
"Affirmative," Rocky said.
Grace ran to Armando and the boxes of medical supplies. They had brought what they could out of the Mary and into the house. What they couldn't remove from the ship, they tried to mimic or rebuild. They had to have one.
"Defibrillator!" Grace shouted at Armando as he opened and ripped through boxes.
He could hear Rocky talking in the other room.
"A defibrillator is a medical device used to-"
"WHERE IS IT?" Grace interrupted.
"Sounds like there is conflict, this is common amongst crew memb-"
"Agh!" Grace kept looking. He couldn't find anything even remotely like a defibrillator.
"Grace!" Rocky said, "Need breathe!"
Grace came running back, knelt down, and tried to catch his breath. He covered Simon's cheek and gave his breath again.
He felt something.
Grace looked up after the second breath. He put a hand out.
"Wait," he said to Rocky, "Don't do it yet, just in case."
Grace placed one hand on Simon's chest. He placed his fingers along Simon's neck.
"THERE'S A PULSE!"
Simon's chest was moving.
Grace wanted to freak out. Throw something, scream, cry, laugh, do something so he wouldn't burst into a million pieces. He stopped himself. They weren't out of the woods yet. He had to make sure Simon was stable. Grace gently rolled Simon to his side, trying to make it easier on his body to breathe on its own. Grace laid down next to him, listening to make sure the breath was consistent. He didn't know how long they were like that. It was agonizing.
Simon had a stuttered gasp.
Grace held his breath, a weird mix of intrepidation and hope filling his system.
Simon blinked.
"Grace?"
It was too much, Grace started crying and laughing. He didn't know what to do.
"Hi," Grace said.
Grace wrapped himself around Simon. At first, Simon weakly pushed back. Then, realizing Grace was sobbing, slowly wrapped his own arm around Grace.
"Don't ever do that again." Grace said,
"Are you okay?" Simon said,
"How can you be asking about me right now?" Grace said, letting out an anxious laugh,
"You won't let go of me, and you're on the floor crying." Simon said, "What did I do?"
"You weren't breathing," And at that, Grace fully collapsed under the emotional toll of the situation. It finally hit now that he knew Simon was alive. Grace was shaking from the exhaustion of CPR and cutting the roots. His palms stung so bad. He was exhausted and crying like a blubbering mess. He slowly let go of Simon so he could look at him. Grace pushed the hair out of Simon's face to see him properly. Simon had a strange expression.
"What?"
"Is this real?" Simon whispered, trying to sit up and falling. He tried again and managed to prop himself up against the ice bucket.
"Can you hear me?" Panic was quick to start back up in Grace's system. What if Simon was still dreaming? "What are you seeing?"
Simon nodded, seemingly studying Grace's experience. "I can hear and see you. I thought... I thought I killed you. I thought you hated me. I couldn't wake up and I thought maybe it was real. I couldn't-"
"Look at me." Grace said, "We're okay. We're both breathing. We're all alive. That's all I care about."
Simon wiped his hand across his face and pushed his hair back. He looked around the room.
"What did I do?" Simon said.
Grace realized how bad the scene around them looked. Simon pushed the towel off of his torso, he saw the puddle, the blood, the clumps of flesh, the knife, his glasses, the mattress, and ripped sheets.
"Most of this is from me," Grace said, "We didn't have a lot of time to clean as I went,"
"You're not lying? I didn't attack you right?"
"You didn't hurt me. Trust me, I swear," Grace did an "x" motion over his heart.
Simon almost relaxed, but did a double take.
"What was that?" Simon said,
"What was what?" Grace said.
Simon grabbed Grace's wrist and squeezed it tightly.
"Show me your hands," Simon said,
"I don't think that's necessary-" Grace said,
"Now."
Grace hadn't heard Simon say something like that. It sounded like a threat. Grace almost shuddered as goosebumps pricked his skin. Simon blinked a few times and must have realized how he sounded. He relaxed his shoulders and expression,
"Please," he said.
Grace close his eyes as he displayed his palms, bracing himself for the reaction.
He wished Simon would have shouted or pushed him or something. But he was silent. Grace couldn't even hear him move. Grace opened his eyes again.
Simon was in shock or something.
"It's okay," Grace said,
"How bad does it hurt?" Simon whispered,
"It just stings," Grace said,
"You're shaking, though," Simon said,
"My arms are just tired from the CPR and stuff," Grace said, trying to steady himself. Grace could feel the uneasiness in the room.
Rocky finally spoke.
"Grace should wash hands. Rocky finish check Simon," he said.
Grace went to protest. He didn't want to let go. He was scared of what would happen if he left the room.
"Trust." Rocky said. Simon nodded reassuringly.
Grace begrudgingly went to the bathroom and turned the water on. He let the water rinse over his hands. They weren't as bad as they could be, but they were pink and blistered. A few of the blisters had burst in the struggle earlier. Grace rested his arms on the sink and leaned forward, letting his head go limp and rest on his forearm. He was still trying to regulate himself after everything that just happened.
He didn't know why he was thinking about this. But as he gently placed soap around the burns and rinsed them again he was struck by the thought. He was the first time him and Simon had ever been that close. It was the first time they had hugged. And it was only because Grace thought Simon was going to die. He didn't earn it. He didn't ask. He didn't even think it through. He didn't know if it was just the survival instinct, but the idea of being the only human out here again after having Simon with him for so long...
He felt numb as he looked back up at his reflection in the mirror. His face was covered in patchy red streaks from rubbing his face and crying. No wonder Simon was worried when he saw him. He rested his head on his forearm again. He shifted his weight side to side.
It was okay. He was okay.
He just kept repeating it and trying to slow his thoughts. This was another one of those times where he wished his brain would slow down. It was like he was searching through all that happened as if it was new data. His brain reanalyzing every detail as if it would help. Like it would fix what had already happened. Like it would explain if his hypothesis about the parasite's behavior was true or not. He supposed it was a way to cope with the helplessness -trying to find answers. But he had been through the metaphorical ringer at this point.
"Grace can come out now, thirty human minutes," Rocky said,
That was fast. That thirty minutes felt very different than when he was trying to save Simon.
"Did Grace hear?" Rocky said as Grace came back in and dried his hands.
"No. I was distracted," Grace said, still sniffling. He had stopped crying at least.
"Good. Go get some ointment for your hands, I'll help you bandage them in a second," Simon said.
Grace was suddenly worried about what those two were hiding from him.
"What were you talking about?" Grace said,
Rocky and Simon stopped him at the same time.
"Later," Rocky said,
"Hands. Now." Simon said.
Why did Grace find the most bossy and stubborn people to be his friends?
Grace got some ointment from Armando and he waited. Simon came in not that much later, wearing a new outfit. Grace felt his face get warm. Why was Simon doing so much better than him? Why wasn't he freaking out? Had he gotten used to this? Why was Grace freaking out more than Simon? That's embarrassing.
"Let the ointment sit for a second," he said, holding a box.
"What are you doing?" Grace said.
"We're just cleaning up." Simon said, "We'll get you replacements for the stuff that was destroyed after we sanitize the room. Rock's going to have a team over."
"I can do it, you sit down and rest," Grace said,
"With those hands? Fuck, no," Simon said casually,
"I'm fully capable of cleaning my own home," Grace said,
"You feel that threatened by me carrying a box?" Simon said,
"It's not that..."
"Let me help. I can't keep watching you get hurt only to spend all of your time helping me. I'm not letting you do something like this with a hand injury."
"You promise you feel okay enough to do this?"
"I will feel a lot worse if I just sit around doing nothing. Let me shake this off,"
"Promise?"
"Yes. Please. Let me help you."
Grace finally relented, "Okay."
"Once I get things reasonably ready, I'll wrap your hands. Watch a movie or something," Simon turned away,
"Wait-" Grace said. Simon turned back. "I'm glad you're here Simon,"
"Me too,"
"And thank you,"
Simon shrugged, "No need to thank me. It's what friends do."