Chapter Text
“Grace eat time, question? Has been 68402 seconds since meal.”
Rockys chirping computer voice rings in my ears as I come out of whatever half aware, half awake state I had been in for the last few hours. We had a month left until we arrived at Erid and I was feeling every little bit of the last few years. In the meantime, I had taken to reading, almost, every book downloaded to the little tablets on the ship, except now I had read the same page for approximately the last… Four hours? Jesus…
“Uh.. yeah, bud. Ill get to that..” I say, running a hand down my face. In these desperate times, we started rationing coma slurry to hold me over while we waited for Erid to synthesize vitamins and other foodstuffs, so my diet was a sad mix of leftover taumoeba and the occasional slurry when I couldn't stand that.
“No, Grace eat now! Grace need food. Even if bad food.” Rocky stomps his claw down impatiently. In the moment, he reminded me of when I was doing my student teaching hours in an elementary classroom and one of the students had to wait for a break to get their “I lost a tooth” trinket instead of getting what they wanted right then and there. It was much more charming on Rocky than a sore and frustrated seven year old.
Damnit, I hate when hes right. I've gotten to the point in the nineteen hours since I've eaten that my hands have a slight tremble to them, and my head aches something awful.
“Bossy…” I half-heartedly grumble as I stand from where I had been curled in the pilot's chair for the last few hours. My legs feel numb and my vision swims from the sudden change in position. I can vaguely hear Rocky warble in * told you so* concern as my arms fly out to catch myself against the wall. Thankfully, I once again am safe from toppling over and eating shit thanks to the various panels jutting out from the walls to give me something to grip onto.
I make my way to the food storage, searching what I knew had been empty for almost a year and three months to the date. Even still, my little lizard brain made me search the place high and low, because what if?.
“Oh my god.” I gasp after four minutes of searching.
“What is it? Grace find treasure?” Rocky asks, his little hamster ball clicking back and forth as he shifted his weight, trying to echolocate what was in my hands. Turning around quickly, I present my findings with a, probably insane looking, grin.
“Genius me stashed a cup of ramen behind the wall panel." I announce. I don't know whether to pat myself on the back or not, knowing how long its been back there. But its ramen, in space, it should be fine. Whatever germs could have contaminated it have been cycled through the ship a million billion times by now.
Rocky didn't seem to make up his mind either, his musical tones flicking between the first few syllables for stupid and smart. I've been slowly picking up Eridian, enough that I would probably be the equivalent of an elementary school level of comprehension, but most of the tones were either out of range for my measly human hearing, or the chords were unable to be replicated by my silly, single note at a time human voice.
“Come on, lunch time!” I declare, moving towards the tiny excuse for a kitchenette I had set up in a corner of the lab now that we didn't constantly need the space for… y'know… saving the world. Worlds. I boil some water, rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet as I stare at the kettle. My arms slowly migrate to my chest, hands gripping at my shirt collar, crossing over my sternum. It provided an ever so slight stretch to my shoulders and a pleasant pressure against my chest. A happy hum left my throat as I watched the thermometer on the hot plate slowly tick up.
As was common these days, Rocky hovered nearby, legs curled under his carapace as he watched. It was so funny how a creature with no eyes still managed to stare through your soul. Occasionally he would click or tap a claw against the floor to get a clearer image of the room as I moved.
“God, this is incredible.” I groan into the noodles, perched on top of the counter, legs swinging slowly. It was so salty, even without the flavor packet, which sat unused beside me on the counter. I don't think I've eaten anything this good in years. At least.
“Grace look disgust when eat.” Rocky echos, a light chatter in his tone that suggested a laugh. “Rocky do good sarcasm, question?”
“Perfect, buddy.” I say, gently kicking my foot out to tap against his ball. Not for the first time, I wish in the back of my mind that we didn't have to be so separated. I wonder what Rocky would feel like. My brain always put him somewhere in the realm of a damp stone. Similar slight softness and smoothness, while still plenty textured. Somehow, I'm sure that it would be heavenly. My palms subconsciously itch for it already, begging for a sensory experience the universe probably could never provide.
“Something bother Grace, question? Heart rate fast.” Rocky asks.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm great. I have real food!” I grin and shake the little container, but the smile doesn't fully reach my eyes.
If Rocky could glare, he'd definitely be doing it now. “Grace bad liar. Bad bad bad!”
“Its really not a big deal, Rock’. I'm just thinking too much. Human brains loud place, remember? Especially mine.” I tried to explain neurotypes once or twice to Rocky, but I don't think he got it. Eridians don't really have mental health issues that humans do. I mean, obviously they existed, I've seen Rocky have his own fair share of issues ever since almost dying at Adrian, but it's hard to tell when I've only met one Eridian whether that's a Rocky thing or not.
“I just wish sometimes that you and I were able to touch each other.”
Rocky curled up more in almost a defensive position. If he had eyes, I'm sure he would be glaring directly at the now long healed burn marks on my arm. The chemical burns were mostly healed now, leaving the skin taut and rough, but the temperature burn in the shape of Rocky's hand still ached often, and would weep plasma if I pulled the skin a little too hard.
“Bad Idea.” Rocky says softly. “Rocky hurt Grace.”
“No, Rocky. No. What happened was an accident. A bad accident. You didn't hurt me on purpose.” I say. I put my now empty cup of ramen aside, shifting to sit on the floor. I spread my legs for Rocky's ball to settle between my knees. It's about as close as we can get like this. “Remember when I told you that my brain likes textures?” I ask, but it's futile. Of course Rocky remembered, he remembered everything. “I just wonder what you would feel like.. y'know, at a temperature my brain could comprehend.”
I idly rub my hand across the top of the xenotite ball, the surface like sea glass. It was almost completely smooth, but it had just the slightest amount of variation and imperfections. My brain always liked things that reminded me of the ocean. Sea glass, sand, running water… The beach was always my happy place. A nice breeze, the smell of the ocean… I'd never have it again. I would just have to make peace with that and actually mean that.
I would have to make peace with a lot of things.
“Would Grace like if… If Rocky make touch real, question?” Rocky's voice sounds unsure, like he doesn't want to make a promise he can't keep while also promising the world to me.
“I…” I have to pause and breathe, because for a moment I think this is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. “Yeah, Rock… I'd really enjoy that.”