Chapter Text
12:00pm. T-27 hours before launch.
If you asked me before being kidnapped recruited for the Hail Mary mission if I liked Hannah Montana, I would laugh in your face. Unfortunately for everyone around me, I am a liar to beat all liars when it comes to my music taste. I was given a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and a music streaming service to work on the Hail Mary mission, but all I'd been listening to was a mix of 2000's pop music. Someone once told me I needed to get "manlier" music taste, but I think that's the dumbest thing anyone's ever said, and I called a scientist a waste of carbon once.
I spent the morning before liftoff doing what was dubbed "go white boy, go" by one of my students. I don't know what happened, but my third period class found out I listened to "Disney kid music" and they decided that was all we could listen to during silent work. Of course, the one time I think I'm dancing alone, I had an audience.
"Dr. Grace, I need some num— What are you doing?"
I jumped. Stratt was at my door. Did she see that? Oh god she totally did. I didn't even bother pausing my music before pulling my headphones off.
"Nothing important, what's up? Did you need something?" I tossed a hacky sack at her and nodded as she caught it.
"Well, I was coming to ask you if you needed anything before launch tomorrow. We are checking everything today, so if you need anything, let me know before 5 pm today. Now, what were you doing." She crossed her arms and frowned, but she seemed more confused than anything else.
"Uh…" I hesitated. Would she understand? Probably not. I steeled my nerves and continued. "I was doing go white boy, go." I fidgeted with the hem of my shirt.
"Ryland Grace, what the fuck is that."
"Once, my students found out that I listened to 2000's Disney channel music. We started having 'go white boy, go' breaks where I'd put on music and we'd dance for five minutes. I don't know why they called it that, but they insisted and thirteen year olds are scary sometimes. It helped them get energy out and gave them something fun to do, plus it gave me some time to get nerves out so — sorry, I'm rambling, aren't I." I stared at my beat up converse. My headphones were still quietly playing music from their speakers and the room filled with the quiet chorus of Hoedown Throwdown.
Zig zag cross the flo', shuffle in diagonal, When the drum hits, hands on your hips, One-footed 180 twist, and then a, Zig zag, step, slide, Lean it left, clap three times, Shake it out, head to toe, Throw it all together that's how we roll!
Stratt chuckled and shook her head. "I should have known. Well, if you can come down to the lab, we want to run some numbers by you. You have some visitors coming tonight before launch, by the way." She walks out of the room quickly, an indication to hurry up and move.
Visitors? I didn't know anyone would come to see me off. Was it my students? I don't talk with my parents anymore, I'm still their "little girl". I think they'd like it if I — no. there's no point in getting like this before going to space. It's a suicide mission regardless, so they won't mind. I shake the thoughts off me quickly and walk after Stratt. I'd like to remain conscious before I get put into my coma, it'd be nice to see whoever came to visit.
3:00pm. T-24 hours before launch.
Someone is knocking on my door. I have a feeling it's Stratt based on the rap knocking I keep hearing, so I called out for her to come in. She opened the door and stared at me from the doorway.
"Dr. Grace. Your visitors are here." Stratt says this with a tone I've never heard from her. Is she being mischievous? I can't tell. I gather myself together, grab the hacky sack on my desk, and throw my shoes on. "Dr. Grace. Your glasses. You will need to be able to see." She narrowed her eyes at me, but sounded gentle.
She's become something of a mother hen since I rambled at her two weeks ago while getting fitted for my space gear. I didn't manage to take off my shirt without having a complete and utter breakdown. I told her everything that day, how my parents condemned me to hell after I came out to them, how I chose my name while thumbing through baby name books, how I spent hours psyching myself up to do my own shots, and how I cried like a baby when I got top surgery. I told her about how scared I was to take care of myself when I got the surgery, only for my cousin to take care of me for a few months. He held me close and told me how my parents told him about me "mutilating myself". He stayed in my life until my parents found out. I cried all over Stratt, apologizing the whole time. I don't really remember the rest of the day, I spent most of it holding a rotation of frozen oranges, lemons, and ice cubes. Stratt had Carl sit with me the rest of the day and told me to stop working for a few days.
I was put on some form of suicide watch for those days. Apparently, it's a bad idea to have someone kill themselves before saving the world or something. I talked with Stratt more after my breakdown, finally managed to get my measurements done, and got back on my feet after two days. Surprisingly, the news of my mini crisis didn't spread at all. I shouldn't have been, but humans inherently love gossip.
I walked down to the front of the lab to a group of people. It was 20 to 30 people. "All of those people are here… for me?" I thought to myself.
"Mr. Grace!" I whipped my head towards the sound. A group of my students were standing outside the doors to the lab.
"Stratt? How did you…" my voice died in my throat as tears welled in my eyes. She nodded towards my students as if to give me permission. I jogged over to the group and was immediately swarmed. "H-hey, guys! How're you doing? Is the new teacher okay?" I wiped the tears from my face and sat on the grass. They caught me up on everything. They were doing well, the new teacher wasn't as fun, and they were all terrified at the prospect of me going to space. They knew I wouldn't come back, but I don't think it'll really hit them until tomorrow. They're here for launch, too. It'll be bittersweet, yet I can only hope we find the solution.
"Mr. Grace. We have a very important question for you." Abby looked me in my eyes like I was being studied under a microscope. I nodded and she continued. "Can we PLEASE do a dance break?" I burst out laughing as Stratt handed me a speaker. The music filled the air.
I've been to the year 3000
Not much has changed, but they lived underwater
And your great-great-great-granddaughter
is doing fine…