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The hanahaki disease was a well known tragedy. Countless movies and books spinning its own tale of star crossed lovers. The entertainment industry had garnered quite the paycheck.
To love something so much as to die for it, or have it irrevocably ripped away. Either way stripping one soul of its belonging.
Eva stratt has never quite loved anything as much as humanity.
She knew when she agreed to lead the task force. To be the world's whipping boy.
To give up her humanity. Or for humanity to give up on her.
The end of the tunnel for her was a cold dark prison cell, presidents and ministers would turn against her. Yet she'd do anything to make sure the earth survived.
She shouldn't have been surprised when a bloodied flower clawed its way out of her throat as evidence.
It was a well kept secret. Humanity was merciful atleast, it would stop loving her slowly. With every piece of herself she sacrificed for the mission.
They would let her die slow enough to see the launch of the Hail Mary.
No one noticed a thing. The rasp in her voice perceived as professional and authoritative, not vines that curled around her throat like a vice.
The days blurred together in flashes of meetings and paperwork. Her only tell time being when she was coughing up blood on the cold tiled floor. Her bathroom permanently smelled of something floral, tainted with the sharp bite of copper. She could taste the nectar of the flowers with every cough that wrecked her.
She let out a wry, bitter smile at the irony.
---
And then she met a high school teacher with a PHD in microbiology.
Maybe it was the years spent teaching that set him a apart from the rest. Children don't lie out of malice, they don't hurt each other for tiny gains. They don't care about influence or power or money. Maybe he got used to that. A piece of himself tied to youthful childhood innocence.
He trusted too easily. Always hanging on to every word, always eager to help. Even when he doubted the lengths they had to go to. He was the first to stand at her side and light the torch.
He loved humanity too, that much was obvious. He couldn't read people as well as she did. But he tried to understand them, to get to know them. Rose tinted glasses only had him seeing the good in everyone. A life in the class room does that to you.
His kindness was another thing. So willing to go above and beyond. He'd help lab members with tasks and work overtime to complete his own. He even knew she was prone to going days without food, and always remembered to atleast bring her a meal. It wasn't a way to feel better about himself, he didn't crave validation in that way. He didn't care about image. He just wanted to help.
Day by day she felt him worm his way through the walls she spent months building. Every cracked smile, every stupid joke. He'd look to her for guidance, it took her a while to notice she'd looked back.
There were close calls. She never let anyone stay in her office overtime before Ryland grace. Coughing fits that overtook her then, a tender hand on her shoulder. It helped, that scared her more.
Vines that pawed at her throat receded for a while.
She could afford to take a breath of fresh air, feel it settle in her lungs.
Months she had spent learning how to breathe shallowly. To minimise the pain that tore through her lungs as thorns scraped against every surface. She could almost feel the way they filled with blood before another coughing fit expunged it from her lungs.
Blossoms that bloomed from blood for loving too much. It was rather poetic.
Plants need oxygen too, that breath of fresh air was equally damming as it was a blessing. But weeks passed, bloodied blossoms turned to petals. Fresh air was easier to come by.
---
One day she found him coughing too. Hunched over the bathroom sink, blood dripping from the corners of his lips. She knew when he looked up at her. The resignation in his eyes.
It was the same look she saw in the mirror everyday.
He loved her back.
She didn't know when she started loving him, and she didn't care about the taste of copper on his lips as she cradled his face and wiped away his tears. She was tainted with bloodied lungs aswell.
It took her a long time to see why she loved him. Why the blossoms have been reduced to vines.
Ryland grace was the embodiment of humanity.
To have seen the horrors and not yield to distrust and manipulation. He wasn't selfish for not wanting to go, he was human.
He was scared.
She had cradled him with love and nursed the vines from his lungs. Only to ask him to die for her once more.
Maybe if he agreed they could have more time. Maybe a goodbye wouldn't have hurt as much as watching him beg for his life as the guards tackled him.
She watched his blue eyes wide with terror.
Eva stratt had given up the last of her humanity.
The hail mary will launch.
----
Lilies. The flowers that blossomed from the blood in her lungs and clawed their way out, were lilies.
You know what lilies symbolised?
Grace.
Endurance, nobility, and grace.
For a man who's name meant mercy, he sure didn't grant her any.
Echoes of his name spoken, she might've turned around if the image of him begging for his life wasn't seared into her mind permanently.
To love something so much as to die for it, or have it irrevocably ripped away. Eva stratt had the misfortune of experiencing both.
Afterall, no one had ever loved anything as much as Eva stratt loved humanity.
That's why she was chosen.
To lead Project Hail Mary, full of grace.