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Grace stared out the window at the soft, foggy light of his artificial beach, his finger absentmindedly tracing the raised lines of scarred skin on his forearm. He found himself doing that a lot lately, just as a subconscious movement. Maybe it was just the interesting, tactile feeling of the admittedly impressively large scars, or maybe it was because of what had caused them.
Grace didn't remember it happening, not really, but he did remember when he discovered them.
It had been the day after he'd woken up after the fishing incident. After he'd promised Rocky he'd watch him sleep if he promised to wake up.
That first day had been the longest, most horrible day of his life. He'd been too tired and sore (and depressed and grieving) to do much except sit on the floor next to Rocky, leaning on the xenonite barrier between them, tapping on the surface and wishing Rocky would tap back.
He'd only moved when Mary told him he needed to get his bandages changed. He remembered staring with a detached sense of indifference as Armando removed the bandage on his forearm, revealing an ugly red burn that didn't hurt as much as he'd thought it should. (He'd learned pretty quickly that that was because of painkillers once they wore off). He remembered staring at it in confusion, wondering what had caused it and why it was such an odd shape. He'd asked Mary in a quiet voice what had caused the burn, and her response had made him freeze.
“Physical contact with Rocky.”
It was Rocky’s handprint. When he'd presumably grabbed Grace to drag him to the medical bay. When he'd sacrificed himself to save him.
Grace didn't want to admit that he'd sobbed uncontrollably for way too long after that realization. He'd forced himself to get to work after that, building his friend a heat lamp and discovered and breeding the taumoeba.
He'd only felt like he was able to breathe again when Rocky woke up.
Later when the bandages came off permanently, leaving the healed, raised scar tissue, Rocky had noticed it and immediately realized what had caused it. Grace had never seen the Eridian so distraught before, crouched as small as he could and shaking as his warbled notes said ‘apology’ over and over and over again. Grace had been very quick to reassure him.
“Hey, hey hey Rocky it's ok. It's ok I'm not mad or anything.”
⟨⟨But Rocky hurt Grace!⟩⟩
“No! Well, I mean technically yes I guess, but you saved my life. I wouldn't even be here at all if you hadn't saved me, ok? Thank you. I don't think I've said that yet. Thank you for saving me.”
⟨⟨. . . Grace ok, question?⟩⟩
“Yeah, yeah I'm more than ok buddy. Hey and besides, I think it's kind of cool. It's like a permanent reminder of how much you care about me!”
⟨⟨Rocky care lots. Care lots for Grace⟩⟩
“. . . O-ok.”
⟨⟨Grace leaking⟩⟩
“Sh-shut up.”
. . .
“I care lots about you too.”
⟨⟨Obviously⟩⟩
Grace smiled at the memory, glancing down at the scar one more time before getting up to get dressed for the day. He didn't have class today, it was the Eridian equivalent of the weekend, but Rocky was due to arrive soon, so he might as well ‘hop to it.’
He tugged his cardigan on and as he was bending down to slip on one of his shoes, he heard knocking at the door. Speak of the devil.
“Yeah coming one sec!” He called absentmindedly on reflex despite knowing Rocky probably couldn't hear him as he reached for the other shoe, taking his sweet time because Rocky needed to learn a little patience.
The knocking grew more frantic and Grace stumbled in shock, nearly falling over in his haste to slip his other shoe on. Sure Rocky was persistent, but usually not that persistent. Was something wrong??
Grace managed to right himself in a messy scramble of movement (and with a helpful nudge from Armando), before he hurried toward the door. His house was mostly soundproof (per his request, after years of living in a tiny space with zero privacy it had been nice to finally have some) but he could still hear faint notes coming from outside, like Rocky was yelling. Was the house on fire or something?? What had gotten his friend so worked up?
Grace quickly flung the door open, expecting to see chaos of some horrible kind or another outside, but instead everything looked fine. Same beach, same waves, same soft, foggy light. And Rocky, in his xenonite suit, literally bouncing up and down while making a steady stream of chaotic sounding noises and chords. Grace just blinked for a second, watching as all five of Rocky’s feet left the ground as he jumped in place. His brain helpfully added the cartoon boing sound effect in his mind with every jump that would've made Grace laugh if he wasn't so baffled.
Then his brain kicked into gear and he realized that Rocky wasn't just making incomprehensible noise, he was talking, just so fast that Grace could barely catch a word here and there.
⟨⟨♪♫♪♬♫♪♬GRACEGRACE♪♫♪♬♫♪♬HAVE♪♫♪♬♫♪♬SHOW♪♫♪♬♫♪♬EXCITE♪♫♪♬♫♪♬SEE♪♫♪♬♫♪♬!!!⟩⟩
“Woah woah! Rocky slow down!” Grace stammered quickly closing the door behind him and holding up both his hands in a ‘calm down’ gesture, “I’m not that fluent yet, slow stupid human brain remember? What's wrong?”
That finally got Rocky to freeze, his legs straightening in what Grace now recognized as Eridian surprise as he tilted his carapace up toward Grace.
⟨⟨Wrong, question? Why would something be wrong, question?⟩⟩ he asked, notes lilting upward in confusion.
Ok, now Grace was even more baffled.
“I-I don't know,” he stammered, “You were yelling and banging on the door and stuff.”
⟨⟨Oh. Misunderstanding⟩⟩ Rocky tilted from side to side in a way that mimicked a dog flicking off water from its pelt, ⟨⟨No I excite!! Want to show you surprise!!⟩⟩
Grace took a slightly deeper breath and let himself relax a bit. Ok. No mortal peril, just a surprise. Which, knowing Rocky, could be good or bad, depending on how much creative liberty he took. The last surprise Rocky had given him had been his attempt at artificial rain that, instead of coming down in little droplets, had malfunctioned and come down in a large sheet instead. Let's just say the roof of his house had been thoroughly reinforced after that, just in case.
Grace put on his best interested and hopefully not apprehensive face, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“Oh? What is it?”
Rocky made a few more happy trills, spinning in a circle and stomping his feet like he couldn't contain his excitement, making bits of sand spray over his shoes, before he stopped with one of his legs facing Grace in a way that felt like Rocky was deliberately showing it to him.
Grace squinted slightly in confusion when Rocky didn't move or say anything, just stood almost expectantly, a slight tremor in his legs the only thing betraying his excitement. After a few more seconds with nothing new, Grace opened his mouth to tell Rocky that, unfortunately, he was very lost, when he finally actually looked at the leg Rocky was showing him.
The pattern recognition part of his brain immediately picked up on the fact that something had changed. There was something new on the lower half of that arm. Another carving, like the ones Rocky had shown him before back when they'd had years alone with nothing to do but talk on the Hail Mary. The ones for his mission and his mate.
“Oh you got a new tattoo?” Grace asked, because that had been the closest human word equivalent he could think of at the time. An Eridian version of a tattoo at least. Carved instead of inked under the skin. Permanent and meaningful.
⟨⟨Yes yes!!⟩⟩ Rocky trilled happily, tapping a few of his other legs, but keeping the one with the new tattoo still, ⟨⟨Grace like, question?⟩⟩
Grace blinked in surprise before he nodded on reflex, “Oh, yeah, I—it’s very nice, um, what—” he was about to ask what the tattoo was even supposed to be, but he cut himself off as he realized that the shape was familiar. At first he'd thought it was some sort of misshapen blob, but as he tilted his head and looked closer, he realized that it had a structure to it. A circular shape with five thin extensions, four at the top of the shape and one more off to the size, with little carved patterns inside the whole thing.
Hardly daring to breathe, Grace slowly knelt on one knee in front of Rocky, feeling the damp sand soaking the fabric, but not really caring as he studied the shape closer. Rocky didn't move or say anything, waiting for Grace to put the pieces together.
Grace looked from the new tattoo down to his own hand resting on his thigh. Slowly, so Rocky could pull away if he wanted, Grace moved his hand to rest over the tattoo, a centimeter or two above the xenonite suit he wore. It fit perfectly into the shape of it.
Grace’s mouth opened, but nothing came out as he just stared. He wasn't even sure what he was feeling exactly. A complicated storm of emotions was roiling in his chest, and his throat felt tight.
He jumped just a fraction as Rocky slowly reached out with another arm, resting a xenonite coated claw on his exposed forearm, right over the scar of the same shape.
⟨⟨We match⟩⟩ Rocky said softly, his tune low, but pleased.
Grace took a shuddering breath before he lost the battle with his emotions entirely, fully pressing his hand to the xenonite as his vision blurred.
⟨⟨Grace like, question?⟩⟩ Rocky asked, a note of worry entering his voice.
Grace sniffled pathetically, bringing his other arm up to cover his eyes even though he knew Rocky could sense the tears anyway.
“Y-yeah, Rock,” he said, proud that his voice only wobbled a little, “I love it.”
He felt Rocky shift a little under his hand, a pleased rumble vibrating through the point of contact.
⟨⟨Grace say scar a permanent reminder of Rocky. Now Rocky have a permanent reminder of Grace!⟩⟩ he explained, voice glowing with pride at his idea.
Grace blinked rapidly, lowering his other arm to place it on Rocky's claw still resting on his forearm. He had no idea what to say, but Rocky didn't mind when he was silent.
After sitting there fighting tears for a bit, Rocky said, ⟨⟨Grace want hug, question?⟩⟩
Grace let out a very wet laugh, sniffing a bit as he nodded.
“Of course I do, get in here.”