Chapter Text
Stratt winced as she watched Grace get tackled to the ground, flailing around on the grass as multiple people jumped on top of him. She hoped he didn't get hurt, both for her own sake and his.
The struggling eventually stopped, and she saw his limp form get hoisted upright, his body sagged against the guard holding him.
She'd given the order to not mention any of this in the mission plan. Like she'd told him, he'd be remembered as the hero he was, not the coward he probably felt like. His sacrifice, whether it be by his choice or not, wouldn't be in vain.
She had to get outside, but that meant getting away from the window, and that meant losing sight of Grace, even if only for a moment.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, she turned away from the window, and walked through the halls with determined strides.
As she walked outside, he was being loaded into the back of a truck. She climbed into it without saying a word, just nodding to one of the guards. His head was placed in her lap, a plastic oxygen mask given to her, attached to a machine that was also being placed next to her. She placed the mask over Grace's mouth and nose, watching as it fogged up with every breath he took. He'd be intubated soon, but right now, this was one of the very few signs that he was alive.
Her free hand found its way into his hair. He wouldn't even know she'd been here, but it felt wrong not to provide him some comfort. No immediate family didn't mean that no one would miss him. His students would miss him. Carl would miss him. She would miss him.
His head bounced a little on her lap as they drove toward the launch site. She'd have to go back to the base to pack his bags, but sending him alone felt wrong, even if he wouldn't remember any of this.
The spaceship stood ready for the launch in a little less than three days, towering over the base next to it. A hospital bed already stood waiting for them outside, multiple doctors and scientists surrounding it.
They hadn't had a chance to test the amnesia-inducing drug on a real human, but they were certain it would work. She'd almost told them not to do it, but they couldn't risk him trying to sabotage the mission once he awoke many lightyears away. He'd be confused, yes. Scared, even. But at least he wouldn't feel betrayed.
She helped the guards who'd come with them to carry him off the truck and onto the bed. The machine was hung onto the railing, and then they were moving inside.
Stratt tried to follow, but one of the doctors stopped her. "Thank you, ma'am, we'll take it from here."
She looked through the window, watching as they stripped him of his clothes, as they stabbed needles into his veins, as they removed the mask and shoved a tube down his throat.
"Okay," she said softly. "I'll go prepare his belongings."
Her stoic mask was slipping more and more the longer she watched the doctors work. So she didn't. She turned around and walked back outside, where the truck was waiting for her. This time, she sat in the passenger seat, not engaging in whatever conversation the guards were having in the back.
This hadn't been an easy decision to make, or an easy order to give. But the survival of humanity was more important than either of their feelings. She was put in charge of saving the world for a reason. Sometimes difficult decisions had to be made.
She sighed as they passed through the gates again. The grass was trampled where Grace had been caught, surrounded by clumps of dirt he'd clawed at as he'd struggled.
Jumping out of the truck, she straightened her composure.
Grace didn't need her to feel sorry for him. She'd put herself in charge of packing his suitcase, so that's what she'd do.
His clothes, his pictures, the small earth he'd told her was lava.
The amnesia would be temporary, slowly wearing off for maybe a year after he would wake up. Again, they hadn't been able to test it prior to this moment.
But once he did remember, she hoped he'd at least be grateful she made sure he'd be alright.