Chapter Text
The supply closet door popped open to reveal a molecular biologist having a panic attack. A severe one, by the gulping breaths he was taking in as his glasses trembled from his left ear.
“Dr. Grace.” Carl intoned, “Stratt has been looking for you for half an hour. She’s not happy. Neither am I, since I had to come find you myself.”
Dr. Ryland Grace’s response was not one Carl would have expected as Grace grabbed him by the lapels of his black suit jacket. It caught him off guard as he saw tears forming in the corners of Grace’s eyes. The strength in the former teacher’s hold also contributed to why Carl was spun into the supply closet without any resistance. Carl didn’t have time to react and was curious to see what Grace might do.
Grace let go of Carl’s jacket and snapped the narrow door shut and turned back to Carl. He didn’t have much alternative as small as the space was with two tall men crowded into it.
“I hope you have a good explanation for missing the meeting. And a damn better one for hauling me into this sardine can.” Carl warned in a soft voice, not angry but wondering how he got manhandled.
The dim light from the bare low-wattage bulb illuminated the tears tracking down Grace’s cheeks. Grace had to tip his head back to catch Carl’s eyes and what he saw there must have upset him further. He reattached his hands to Carl’s lapels and let his head crash into his chest.
Carl felt warm tears saturate the front of his white shirt and tie.
“I couldn’t go into another meeting, I’ve been in 5 meetings since 5am. It’s 7pm. PM. It’s too much, too much pressure. I have to get the calculations right, I have to make sure the Hail Mary gets to its destination. I can’t fail. I can’t fail them. I can’t waste their sacrifice, I can’t-”
Carl’s warm arms circling Grace’s shoulders halted him from speaking. He couldn’t bear to hear Grace doubt himself. It hurt him more to hear Grace shush himself when he had been rambling about a subject he was interested in. The self-censure dulling the bright light in Grace’s eyes, the loss of his excited voice, trailing off and away from those he had been unloading his wonder on. Carl had given more than one military big whig an ugly stare when they looked ready to interrupt Grace during an animated explanation of how the astrophage would fuel the Hail Mary. None of them had challenged Carl but Stratt had told him to reel it back in a little.
Carl sighed and squeezed Grace to him, wishing they were in a different life. A life where Carl didn’t have responsibilities and an extremely tight contract that forbade fraternization with his clients. An existence where one sweet man didn’t have the entire world’s survival weighing on his back.
Grace’s tears had stopped and he was still against Carl, his panting breath slowed to a deep rhythmic pattern. Carl realized he was matching Grace’s breath but his heart was starting to pound, not slow.
Grace’s hands unclenched from Carl’s lapels and travelled down to rest on his belt buckle.
“Carl?” Grace whispered in a feather soft voice, his forehead pressed against Carl’s chest.
“Yeah?” Carl managed in a steady voice while his heart beat faster.
“Thank you for this. I needed it.” Grace’s hands left his belt as he wrapped his arms around Carl’s waist.
Carl sealed his lips against a curse, wanting to throttle himself for not connecting his hands to Grace’s while they were still on his belt. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning to kiss the top of Grace’s head and giving him one last squeeze before retracting his arms from around Grace.
Grace withdrew from their embrace with an embarrassed flush on his cheeks, tears smeared over his face.
“You’re a mess, Dr. Grace.” Carl joked, as he reached inside of his jacket to retrieve a plain white handkerchief.
Instead of handing it to Grace, Carl began patting Grace’s tears away. Grace went still as Carl cleaned his face softly, his eyes shining with questions. Carl stepped back to study his work and reached out to hook Grace’s glasses onto his face.
“You look ready.” Carl pronounced and tucked the handkerchief into the front pocket of Grace’s blue jean shirt.
Grace’s face shifted and he grimaced, “I still have to talk to Stratt, don’t I?”
Carl patted Grace’s right shoulder, “Yes, but I will stay with you. I won’t let her yell at you for too long. I promise.”
Grace closed his eyes and nodded defeatedly. He reopened them and gave Carl a watery smile, “Thank you again for calming me down…and for being my friend.”
Carl nodded and pointed at the door. Grace dutifully turned around and Carl was grateful for the loss of eye contact. A tear that had been hiding at the corner of Carl’s eye glided down, a falling star that would never grant a wish.