Chapter Text
For Eridians, having a mate isn’t just about having a partner. It’s not someone you can simply kiss, hug, and hold. It’s more profound than that. A mate is someone with whom you connect on a soul, heart, and even mind level.
The Eridians have something they call aligning their beats, which is somewhat like music, I guess.
That’s what makes them lifelong mates. If an Eridian loses a mate, they are forever bound to each other. If one dies, the other typically follows suit. Sure, some try to find a new mate, but most Eridians who lose their mates slowly wither and die too.
Mated Eridians often die at the same time, or at least within the same year. They don’t last long without one another.
It’s almost like that thing my mom showed me about soulmates.
“It’s not something that has the possibility of cure… at least, not yet anyways.” Grace explains as we scour the cabinets. A bunch of bowls and plates are scattered on the kitchen island as we attempt to make steak this time.
Grabby or Armando aren’t the ones doing it; it’s us. “If one mate dies, the other one does too,” Grace continues. “That’s why most Eridians are better off as a group of four or more. If one dies, the others can keep going, it’s… confusing. You need years to understand stuff about Eridans. It’s fine”
“Four? As in four of them together?” I ask. Grace nods at me, passing me the oil as he heats up the pan. “Yeah, four of them together. They aren’t human, Si. They choose one who carries the egg, and whoever does gives birth. Didn’t I tell you this before?” Grace asks.
“You mentioned them being hermaphrodites, but not this part about mates,” I point out.
Grace hums. “Alright, fair point.” He clicks his tongue as I snort. “The thing about Eridians is that human social concepts don’t apply to them at all… So…” Grace makes some shrugging motions while trying to hold two things at once, which just looks like he’s wiggling his body.
“Anyways,” Grace scratches his head for a moment. “Lucy isn’t dead or keeling over just yet. But the issue with widowed Eridians is that they forget important things—like eating, sleeping, and hygiene. They forget everything because of losing their mate. It really is heartbreak. And… Lucy has a kid, Sandy. Normally, widowed Eridians are given a soft, swift death, but Sandy’s still a juvenile, and there’s no one to care for her.” Grace sighs as he slowly places the well-seasoned steak I’ve been throwing spices on for the past few minutes onto the pan, then adds something else into the mix.
“That’s sad,” I say, and Grace nods. “It is… I’m hoping I can find a way. I think Lucy wants to get better; I know she does. I’ve spoken to her many times when she’s lucid, and she always asks for Sandy.”
“Can’t Sandy visit?” I ask. It seems fair that Lucy’s child could visit her.
“No… not really. I mean—I don’t think I can show a child that their mom is dying,” Grace responds as he faces me, and I fall silent at that. That, is also a fair point…
“I see,” I mutter, leaning on the counter as I watch Grace toss oil over the steak. The house fills with the sound of sizzling as we both fall silent.
“I’ll find a way eventually. I’m not keeling over, not until I save Sandy’s mom,” Grace says, his voice filled with something I can’t read.
Maybe desperation—the tone is familiar. I’ve felt this a couple of times: wanting to save something I can’t reach or salvage. Like humanity… or mom… or freedom. The dream of having a better future.
The desperate feeling of holding onto something you can’t save. Worse, the desperation for something you can’t have.
I know that feeling; I know it all too well.
“Don’t forget about yourself too,” I say after a few beats, and I see Grace pause for a second before continuing his cooking, not saying a single thing.
“Yeah, well… if I do that, I’ll lose everything else. Gotta lose something to get something,” Grace shrugs, and I try not to react too harshly as he flips the pan onto a plate to distribute the steak and starts up the fire again for the second steak.
I don’t talk after that, just choosing to watch Grace cook. I offered to do the second one, and Grace agreed. It came out burnt, but it’s fine. I’ll take this one; in fact, I’ll eat anything edible at this point.
“Hungry, huh?” Grace says as I swallow a piece of the steak before chewing. Both of us are sitting at the coffee table, the TV is playing ‘The Office,’ the screen dimmed tremendously, and the whole house is enveloped in a dim yellow light.
“A lot. I can’t eat tomorrow. I have a test for my metabolism,” I declare as I cut the steak and take another bite. Grace hums, doing the same.
“That sucks. I hate fasting,” he says, and I snort at that.
We focus on the show after that; the only sounds audible are our utensils hitting the plates.
“You think I can find a way?” Grace asks.
I startle at that, turning to look at him. “What?” I ask.
“Find a way to fix Lucy?” Grace says again as I swallow my food.
“Fix is a broad word,” I said after a while.
“Why’s that?” Grace raises a brow as I shrug.
“Fixing means there is something broken about the person. Or let’s just say an Eridian… And… I don’t think there’s anything broken about Lucy. Nothing to fix. Maybe to… help—or I don’t know, other words that aren’t ‘fix,’” I say slowly, unsure of how Grace would react.
“Oh... hah. I got used to how Rocky said it that I never even thought of that.” Grace’s shoulder shakes as I eye him. “I don’t think she’s broken, or anyone is. But I just—I don’t know. There is something I want to save. And the word I want to use is ‘fix.’”
How heroic…
I hope back on Earth, Grace has multiple memorials around the whole planet because of what he’s done to save it. So they can remember how much of a hero he is and how far and willing he would go to make the world a better place.
He’s really a hero; he may have been forced into this mission, but he’s a good man, he did the best he could, and he went through with it.
He’s the kind of person I would dream would save me as a child.
I guess now it’s not a dream anymore. He’s real, and he saved me.
“You’re a good man, Grace.” I say after a few beats as Grace seems to blush at that.
“Thanks, you’ve said that a lot of times now. I’m starting to think you’re just buttering me up,” Grace jokes as I roll my eyes at him. Sure. Buttering him up… Who even says “buttering up?”
“Are you going to come with me to class tomorrow, or are you going to be held up by Joseph the whole day?” Grace asks.
“Maybe the latter,” I shrug. “I don’t know yet, shouldn’t you know that?” I add.
Grace snorts before he turns to me, leaning his elbow on the coffee table. “I’m a doctor, but not that kind of doctor,” Grace says.
“You seem like a doctor to me when you helped me. Now with Lucy as well,” I point out as Grace lets out a small ‘hah’ under his breath, biting his lip.
“There was a lot more science in yours than not,” Grace says.
“I can tell,” I reply as Grace just gives me a smile.
“Just glad it all worked out in the end, huh?” Grace replies as he scrapes off his remaining steak.
I’ve already finished mine; now I’m just leaning on the leg of the couch, waiting for him to finish his. My stomach is still rumbling, but I don’t really care for it that much anymore. I think I have something better right now than worrying about whether I’m hungry or not.
“It did because you worked on it,” I say. “I believed you could. So…” I shrug a single shoulder.
“If anything, I owe you a lot,” I eye him with a look.
“Oh no… Not that,” Grace looks embarrassed, but I just give him a look as he falls silent.
I go back to focusing on what we’re watching. Grace is quiet, tapping a finger on the table as he sighs. He now copies me, leaning back on the leg of the couch, giving me a look before focusing on the screen in front of us.
“Thanks… for having that much trust in me… last time I had that, I was sent to space.” Knowing the context, I almost want to cringe, but Grace seems to find his own joke funny, grinning from ear to ear when I meet his eyes.
“That was a bad joke,” I said as Grace just scoots closer to me, pulling his knees loosely to his chest. Our hips are flush, and our shoulders knock together. I don’t move; I stay leaning back lazily on the couch leg.
“It isn’t. I think I have the pass to make jokes like that,” Grace grins like a shithead as I snort, rolling my eyes at him.
We both fall quiet again. I should put the plates in the sink at this point for Grabby to clean, but I’m comfortable right now, and I don’t want to move. Grace is warm, and lately, I’ve been attracted to warmth.
I feel Grace fidgeting slightly beside me, sighing and breathing deeply, lowering his forehead on his knees from time to time as we watch. He looks like he’s trying to prepare himself for something.
“Hey, can I ask you for something stupid?” Grace asks.
“I don’t think anything you do is stupid,” I reply (it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth as well. This is Grace we’re talking about), and I see Grace’s face shift into a small bashful look, almost shy—somehow it fits him.
“You said you owe me,” Grace says.
“Oh?” I raise a brow as Grace groans, looking extremely embarrassed this time, palming his face. “Okay, this is stupid,” he says again, moving away, but I just grab his elbow—gently, not hard. It doesn’t take much pressure to stop him because he comes right back, and I keep my hand there.
“What is it? I was just kidding. Why are you allowed to make fun of me, and I can’t?” I say as Grace rolls his eyes at me.
“Because I earned it,” he says haughtily, and I stifle a laugh, only cracking a smile.
Grace must have seen it because he grins at me well.
“Alright, Saviour Grace.” I retort jokingly as Grace gives me a look. “Always too busy saving other living things in this universe, huh?” I add, and Grace just lets out a “pffft” and waves a hand.
“What is it then?” I shake him, my hand still on his elbow.
His eyes drift down to where I’m holding him. He’s wearing a shirt and an undershirt that cover his arms, but even then, it isn’t thick. I can feel his warmth underneath it—an incredible warmth that might as well burn my hand off with how slightly cold my skin is these days.
“Okay,” Grace whispers, closing his eyes after a moment. He’s trying to psyche himself up for something, and it’s making me nervous too.
I sit there, waiting.
Grace just breathes, looking away for a moment and then up at the ceiling as if it has answers.
“I—uh. Can I—” Grace stutters, refusing to look at me.
“Just say it. I’m getting very tired of waiting,” I say, and Grace’s eyes snap to me right away. “CanIgetahugfromyou?” He speaks so quickly that I almost don’t understand what he’s talking about.
“I—huh?” I ask, and Grace swallows. “Can I.... get a hug? I mean—I mean. Can I—uhm—hug you?” His voice rises a pitch at the end, and then he falls silent.
“Oh,” I say.
Grace’s face turns much redder; he moves back, but I don’t let him go. As always, even without pressure, Grace stops. “Okay…,” I say, and for some reason, my voice is shaking.
“Okay… You can… Sure… I suppose I should be glad you aren’t asking me any smart questions. Not sure how I'd help with that.” I joke, but I don’t have time to think because I’m suddenly full of blonde hair and the familiar smell of pine (like the trees at the back of my house), with a warm body pressing against me.
Grace is already hugging me—tightly.
I slowly wrap my arms around him, and Grace lets out a shaky breath, lowering his head into the crook of my shoulder as I mirror him.
“Even the strongest hero needs someone to lean on, huh?” I say softly—softer than I expected my voice could reach.
I was never really one to soften my voice; living in Eden and being taken by the COI meant your voice gets drowned out by everything else—whether it’s the screams of anger, pain, and madness, or silence itself.
I feel Grace shudder as he snorts, his warm breath tickling my neck. “I’m not really a hero,” Grace murmurs, his voice low. “I don’t think I am,” he adds afterward.
“For me, you are,” I reply.
Grace doesn’t respond to that. Our hug lasts longer than the last one he gave me. At some point, my back aches, and I move back a little, but Grace pulls me back in, refusing to let go. I let out a choked noise.
“Just a little longer, please,” Grace whispers. “I think I need this…” He adds, this time a bit more desperate than usual.
So, I lean back in and just… I suppose I just hold him.
Funny how the two of us met. Same two people who wanted comfort and touch that was impossible at first, but now that they’ve come together, it’s possible.
Eventually (to my disappointment), the hug has to stop because—well, we’ve been doing it for a few minutes now. I don’t think I’ve hugged someone for more than thirty seconds before; that’s not a hug anymore, that’s cuddling.
Grace helps me put the dishes in the sink, and Grabby doesn’t waste any time cleaning them. We come back to clean the living room, closing everything up.
It gives me some time to think.
Mostly about Grace.
Or I don’t know—I hope it isn’t too weird. He’s a good man, much better than I am. He places a lot of weight on his own shoulders by his own decision, and I admire him for that—carrying the weight of the world on his own.
But sometimes I think he’s doing it just to give himself purpose.
I don’t know why I think that; it’s almost offensive. It almost feels like I’m projecting myself onto him.
But something tells me I’m right.
Grace has always been pushing himself to the brink of insanity even before I came here. It makes me wonder how bad he was before I actually showed up.
I don’t think he’s ever had a good sleep… ever. Maybe he does sleep, but even in his sleep, he’s worried—he’s working. I wonder how he managed to get this far.
As I watch him walk to the door, I can see his shoulders hitched up to his lower ears; his walk is tense, and he looks like he wants to say something.
Something stupid, like maybe wanting to stay. Because I kind of want that too. The house gets cold at night, no matter how high I turn the temperature.
“Grace,” I say as I stand by the doorway. Grace’s foot is already outside, but he stops. “Stay here for the night?” I ask when he turns to me, his eyes wide. His mouth opens and closes, and it takes him a while to respond. “—Oh,” Grace says.
“So?” I tilt my head down as Grace steps back inside the house, smiling shakily. “Yeah sure.” Grace swallows. For once he looks like some weight has been taken off his shoulder and he looks relieved.
“I can take the couch—” Grace said.
But I just shook my head. “We can share my bed.”
And like a pin drop. “What.” Grace said, shocked.
—
It didn’t take much convincing for Grace to get him to sleep on the right side of the bed while I lay on the left. The bed is large enough to have space between us, where Grace placed a pillow just in case he starts rolling around and accidentally hits me. I don’t mind.
I watch as Grace turns; the room is bathed in warm, dim yellow light as he props his chin on the pillow between us.
“Hey,” he smiles. I turn towards him and lay my cheek against my palm. “Hey,” I reply, and Grace beams at me, lying there, hugging the pillow between us as he looks back at me.
“Tonight’s different, huh? I wonder why,” Grace says after a few minutes of silence and staring at each other. It doesn’t feel awkward; it feels kind of peaceful, actually.
Watching him slowly blink at me, I can’t help but manually blink and copy him as well.
“Yeah,” I breathe out through my nose as Grace hums, closing his eyes for a moment and shifting a bit. The pillow moves a bit closer to me, and I can see Grace tapping his fingers over it, where he’s hugging it tightly. It’s close to where my other hand is lying on the sheet.
We go quiet again; Grace doesn’t open his eyes, so I copy him and finally close mine.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but… do you have someone important—or maybe someone you care about—back home?” Grace whispers, his voice low. I don’t open my eyes, just shuffle a bit closer, and I can now feel Grace’s warm breath hitting my forehead.
This might be the first time Grace has actually taken a step to ask, and I wouldn’t have answered it back then. I would have shot the question down. But—
I don’t know. Maybe Grace deserves to know a little more about my world. Not about me. God, not about me and my mistakes… but my world.
“Used to,” I say.
“Who are they?” Grace hums. “My mother,” I whisper. As I open my eyes, I meet Grace’s gaze, his eyes already open. “What was she like?” Grace asks. I swallow heavily at that, feeling something stuck in my throat as I look into Grace’s eyes.
It’s dimmed with the yellow light, but I can still see how blue they are.
“Kind, beautiful, patient. She’s the only one I had back there, but she died when I was 17,” I murmur. “Oh… I’m sorry.” Grace’s brows furrow, and I can see how his eyes tear up a bit. “It’s been years since then; it’s okay,” I hum.
Grace gives me a small smile. “I know she must be so proud of you, Si,” he says.
I wipe my face at that, covering it with my palm for a moment so Grace won’t see how hot my eyes are getting as I discreetly wipe away a few dropping tears.
I drag my palm down my face as I look back at Grace. “How about you?” I murmur.
Grace gives me a tight-lipped smile, shaking his head. “Nobody—I had my kids only, the school… I don’t really have anybody,” he whispers.
Oh.
I watch Grace fiddle with a loose thread on the pillowcase, his eyes getting teary as he lets out a shaky breath. “You do now. Everyone here in this place,” I say after debating what to say. Grace raises his eyes to meet mine, cracking a small smile.
“Yeah… Yeah,” Grace lets out a soft laugh. “I do have them. Rocky, Adrian… You.” The last word is almost a whisper as I look into his eyes.
My chest flutters at that, and I have a small inkling of why, but I choose not to decode it right now.
“You’re a good man, Simon. I’m glad I got to meet you,” Grace says.
Oh…
I don’t know about that, Grace…
I don’t think I’m a good man. Or have been a good man. Or even will be.
“I… don’t know…” I whisper, unsure. But Grace just grins. “Oh, I do.” And God… he sounds so sure of himself. I can’t. “How can you tell?” I ask, my voice small, and I don’t know if it’s because Grace trusts me too much.
“I just do.” Grace gives me a one-shoulder lazy shrug, smiling at me lazily.
“Okay,” I murmur; I accept it at that.
We both fall silent again. I close my eyes just so Grace can see how tears are building up in my sockets, placing a hand over my face.
“Hey, you said you owe me a lot,” Grace says as I lower my hand, watching him take out the pillow from between us. My brow furrows in confusion. What is he doing?
I watch Grace kick the pillow to our feet, biting his lips unsurely. He looks as he did earlier, mentally preparing himself for something—maybe to be kicked out or I don’t know…
“Hold me until I sleep?” Grace asks, his voice so low that it’s a whisper.
I feel my breath catch in my throat as I nod.
Grace freezes, looking surprised I even agreed as I scoot closer. He doesn’t move at all, still frozen as I look at him.
“Turn around?” I ask, and Grace nods dumbly, turning around as I move closer behind him. Slowly—like missing puzzle pieces—we fit together, my chest flush against his back and my hand shakily moving over his waist, loosely wrapping around it.
I feel Grace’s breath shudder and his body shake as I lay there, watching the back of his head, noting how his shoulder trembles.
My palm rests loosely on his stomach, and I can feel him shaking.
The last time I experienced this kind of comfort was with my mother; she would hug me from behind after wrapping my wounds following a long day of training.
“Okay?” I ask quietly beside Grace’s ear. He shudders and nods quickly. “More than better,” he whispers, and I gently knock my forehead against the back of his neck, holding him close. I can feel his stomach rising and falling as he breathes rapidly.
For a moment, I wonder if he’s uncomfortable, if he doesn’t want to be in this position. But it's the only way I know how to provide comfort, just as my mother did, even as I grew older—I was still her little spoon.
“Grace?” I whisper. “You okay?”
He lets out a shuddering breath that sounds almost like a sob, nodding as he sniffs. “Yeah—yeah, it’s just… it’s been a while since someone held me like this…”
“I thought you didn’t have anyone,” I murmur as I feel Grace lean back against me, his hand slipping over mine, resting gently on the back of my hand. His fingers are longer and more delicate than mine.
“I don’t… I’ve only dreamt of it,” Grace whispers, shuddering again and wiping his face.
I can’t see his expression, but I know he’s crying; his hand returns to mine, slightly damp with tears.
“Okay… now it’s real,” I say, laying my head on his shoulder and holding him tighter.
Grace trembles. “Thank you,” he whispers.
I hum in response, acknowledging that I’m finding comfort in this too. “Don’t think too much of it; you’re just warm, that’s all,” I say lightly. Grace laughs, a wet sound that breaks the tension. “Okay, you win,” he murmurs, and I can’t help but smile.
—
Nobody told me that a metabolism test would involve me running on a treadmill with a large mask covering my face. I’ve been too lenient in this new life of mine; I’m out of practice, and it didn’t take long for me to start feeling tired and dizzy as soon as I began running. “Simon, no need to rush. Just checking vitals. Why rush, question?” Joseph asks.
I pulled the mask down to my neck, grateful that my hair was tied back in a messy bun (which might mean I need a haircut). Still, I could feel some loose strands sticking to the back of my neck as I wiped my face.
“Maybe you should try not setting the treadmill so fast,” I suggested, hearing Julia chime in with a few notes as she adjusted it. “Again. Do it now so Simon doesn’t get tired. Simon needs proper body movement like exercise. Must also fix that,” Joseph insisted, pointing an accusing claw at me.
I groaned and rolled my eyes, breathing hard as I jumped back onto the treadmill for another test.
Afterward, I was thrown into a shower to clean up, given some food, and thankfully, my test results came back right away. My metabolism is normal—neither high nor low. I should have no problems with eating; in fact, I shouldn’t be feeling too hungry at all.
“Not unless Simon is eating the wrong food. Food is not bad for the body, yes. But Joseph theorizes—like an Eridian scientist—that Simon is eating the wrong food, not right for Simon, wrong nutrition,” Joseph explained as I lowered the paper onto my knee, making a slapping noise as I sighed.
What does that even mean?
“You think I’m not eating right?” I asked. “Not that Simon not eating right, but that Simon eating the wrong food. Understand, question?” Joseph clarified. I nodded, then shrugged, then nodded again, before shrugging once more. “I’m eating normal human food as a normal human person,” I replied.
Joseph made a few clicking sounds and chirps. “Human food, yes, but what if Simon is different from Grace? Maybe Simon can use his own body to make his own food question?” he suggested.
Oh hell, not this topic again. It gives me the shivers.
“That’s a bit unsettling. I don’t know how to talk about this,” I said, as Joseph emitted sounds that resembled laughter. “Eridian scientist, maybe. Joseph isn't good at this. But Simon is very healthy—just needs to move his body; stop being lazy,” Joseph said, pointing a claw at me. I waved a hand dismissively, unable to stop myself from rolling my eyes.
I’m not being lazy. You go tell Grace he gives me a job so I can’t be “lazy,” then.
But I kept that to myself, rolling the paper into a scroll and smacking my forehead as I thought. Joseph isn’t wrong, though; I’ve lost more muscle than I should have. After the impromptu coma and lack of movement, I’m slowly degrading, so to speak.
Back in Eden, we were trained to be soldiers. Every day, we practiced and sparred one-on-one. Even after being taken in by the COI, I had minimal space in my single cell, but that didn’t stop me from working on my muscles. I used the bars in my cell to pull myself up.
Now… well, I have the space to exercise, but I don’t feel the "need" to do it. I’ve grown too comfortable here.
I smacked my forehead again, making a ‘thonk’ ‘thonk’ noise as I pondered. “So what do I do? Do you give out, um—an exercise regimen or something?” I asked.
“Joseph will use the thinking machine to determine the best exercises for Simon. Many body movements are needed, but not so much that they hurt the body,” Joseph explained. I nodded slowly.
“Okay… okay, that’s fine. Do I bring this home with me?” I raised the paper, and Joseph let out a sound that almost resembled a sigh.
Is Joseph getting tired of me?
As I walked down the halls, I glanced through the transparent xenonite walls, spotting some Eridian scientists inside, none of them wearing a xenonite suit. Grace had said it was hot in there, and I remembered the scar on his arm caused by Rocky due to the heat.
I wonder if the entire lab is designed to retain heat; that’s why the floor and walls feel the same as it does out here. It’s fascinating how they seem to have thought of everything inside this dome. I guess they had years to plan every detail.
As I tap the xenonite wall, a few Eridians turn to me, chirping excitedly and waving. I wave back and continue walking, taking in the environment. Everything around this place appears so well thought out. Only exceptionally intelligent people could create something like this, which makes me feel a bit out of place.
As I explore further, I decide to leave for a bit and stumble upon something interesting: an emergency exit door. I open it to find stairs leading both up and down.
Do Eridians even use stairs?
In any case, I take the exit for some exercise. There aren’t many stairs around the biodome, and despite spending more time in the lab than in my own house, I only just discovered this exit. The only other humans here are me and Grace, and I doubt Grace would ever use stairs, even if his life depended on it.
As I run down the stairs, I count the steps under my breath until I reach the first floor, sighing as I push the door open. But just as I do, I collide with something, my foot getting caught on a hard, rough object, which causes me to trip and fall with a shout. I manage to catch myself with my arm and turn to see what I hit.
“Sandy?” I say, getting up to see the Eridian child crouched on the floor, trembling and scared. Sandy stands up, shaking and chirping.
I think she just said my name. “What are you doing here?” I ask, kneeling beside her. Sandy perks up at my voice and starts chirping and whistling a flurry of tunes, her claws flying around as if she’s gesturing something, I look around and back at her in confusion.
I can’t understand a single word since she doesn’t have a translator, leaving me confused and lost.
“I—I don’t understand, Sandy. You can’t be here. I thought you were supposed to be in class. Where’s Grace? Let’s get you back, okay?” I try to be as gentle as possible, like how Grace would talk to them, then stand up.
There are no Eridians in the hallway, which makes me think Sandy must have snuck in since everyone else is likely busy. She lets out a loud honk that startles me, and I flinch as she grabs my leg, nearly causing me to lose balance. I turn to her fully.
Sandy chirps again, seemingly telling me not to take her back, clearly not wanting to leave.
“Sandy—look, you can’t be here, okay?” I explain slowly. I know she understands me, but I want to ensure she comprehends completely.
Sandy chirps once more, refusing to let go of my leg. I give it an experimental tug. “Sandy,” I say, hoping to sound firmer this time. She remains still. “Sandy,” I repeat, and she finally releases my leg, allowing me to step back and let out a sigh of relief. Knowing myself, I’d probably still be standing there if she hadn’t let go.
I’m not great with children, even though I help Grace with them—I mostly just clean up after him. Not this.
“I’m calling Grace, okay? You really can’t be here. He won’t be angry… hopefully.” I add the last part as a question. Before I can react, Sandy bolts towards the exit door, pushing it open and dashing up the stairs.
“Sandy!” I yell after her, running behind her. The door slams shut at the same time, slamming onto my face, I push it open with an annoyed groan. I peek up from the rails, spotting her nervously chittering as she pushes through the door to the fifth floor.
Damn, she’s fast.
I rush after her, skipping steps as I pant heavily, then burst through the door, only to see Eridian doctors coming and going—some scientists, some mechanics. But Sandy is nowhere to be found.
I sprint around the floor, checking rooms and peeking behind the xenonite walls, calling her name. “Have you seen Sandy?” I ask several Eridians, but they only offer confused glances and shrugs, along with chirps that I assume mean “no” in Eridian.
Eventually, I give up searching for her and race to the botany garden where Adrian’s office is located, bursting through the door to find Adrian chittering in surprise. I bend over, resting my hands on my knees to catch my breath.
“Simon something wrong question?” Adrian asks, hopping from where he stands. I raise a finger, still trying to recover.
Hold on, i need a fucking breather.
Wow, I am really out of shape. And it doesn’t help that I’m always so incredibly hungry, which is even worse now that I’m running around trying to find a kid in a place she shouldn’t be.
“Call Grace. One of his kids is here; her name’s Sandy, and she got into the lab and ran off. I can’t find her,” I said as Adrian let out a chirp of surprise at that. “An Eridian child got in question? Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad. Adrian, call Grace now and help!” I saw him rush out of the office as I groaned.
Great.
More running.
I rushed after Adrian as I saw him approach a panel, pulling and pressing buttons. Suddenly, everything turned dark, then flickered to light, but this time it was orange, pulsing black and orange again and again. “What’s going on?” I asked. “Adrian, close all machines around; all possible dangerous things in the lab for safety. Calling Grace now,” Adrian said. “Simon, try find Sandy while Adrian calls for help,” he added.
I made a confused gesture at that.
I had already tried, and I couldn’t find her. “I tried—” I began. “Try again, please,” Adrian urged. The translation sounded nice, but I had no doubt Adrian had definitely added a curse word in Eridian which Grace switched to 'please'.
“Do not start panic,” Adrian warned me, and I let out a little growl of exasperation at that comment. Who did Adrian think I was?
I am not—
I had no choice but to go back down, encountering a few Eridians running around in panic. I almost got knocked down by how fast they were passing by me.
Okay… I didn’t start the panic…
I stood there, confused, my hands on my head as everyone rushed by. One thing I’ve learned about Eridians is that they are loud. It’s like hearing multiple pianos being played at the same time, overlapping one another.
Sometimes their range feels like ringing in your ears. “Okay… Oka… What the hell?” I said, hands on my head as I exhaled. The whole area was bathed in orange, every corner dark, and every single Eridian was panicking over a missing kid.
Okay, breathe, no use in panicking like them. Let’s calm down and try to think. No one does things for no reason, not even for jokes and giggles.
Why is Sandy here in the first place?
Sure, kids are naturally curious, and they sometimes try to go places where they aren’t allowed. That’s normal for human children too. But she had worked too hard to get in. While yes, earlier there hadn’t been many Eridians around, it still meant she had made an effort to get in.
Why would she be here—
Wait.
Lucy. Her mom. She’s here, right?
Sandy’s mom, she’s brought here to be cared for by Grace and the other doctors. That means she must be on the third floor where there are more ammonia-filled spaces blocked by the xenonite walls.
She’s probably being nursed there.
I ran back inside the stairwell and raced back up once more, panting as I stopped midway to lean against the wall to breathe before running up again and jumping over a few Eridians who couldn’t be bothered to move when I told them to.
“Sandy?” I finally yelled in an empty hallway. The walls were made of xenonite glass, and each room inside was empty; everyone must have come down (at least I knew Eridians used stairs for things like this).
“Sandy?!” I yelled again, this time louder, as I raced down the hall, pressing my face against each glass pane, expecting to see her inside. But no, I saw—
I stopped by a pane—
“Oh…” I whispered as I looked into a white room, seeing an Eridian; their body was sandy-colored, but with blue gems scattered around their legs, their body taller, taller than Adrian. They lay in some kind of box, limp, not moving.
The box they were in looked like it was made of xenonite-reinforced glass walls, and there were tubes connected to it as if something was being sent into the box. I didn’t know what it was, but it looked like they were placed there for a reason.
I could see the top of their body—the vent-looking part shifting slightly, moving up and down a few times.
I pressed my hand close to the glass, trying to get a proper look at the Eridian. Is this Lucy? Is this Sandy’s mom?
I tapped the glass, and I could see Lucy twitch, letting out a soft chitter and a weak trill. It winced. It was like hearing my voice hoarse. It sounded painful; in fact, it felt painful to listen to. I had never heard an Eridian sound like this before…
It’s…
Sad…
“Lucy?” I tapped my finger again, and Lucy chitters softly. It almost sounded like a ‘Yes?’ And I let out a sigh of relief.
I found Sandy’s mom, but Sandy is nowhere around, which means she’s still trying to find Lucy. “Your daughter’s here; she’s trying to get to you. She got in when she wasn’t meant to be here,” I said softly. I didn’t know if Lucy was lucid enough to hear me or if she was awake at all.
She made a noise, and I could only hope it means something good
Lucy moves, twitching as I watch her, biting the bottom of my lip as I see her trying to stand. “Don’t move—” I finally say, just as Lucy attempts to stand, only to hit the glass wall and let out a pained shrill shriek that makes my ears ring as I wince.
“Lucy–” I say, not before I hear a familiar chirp. I turn to the side to see Sandy at the end of the corridor, illuminated by the flickering orange light as she runs toward me.
“Sandy,” I say, moving back to give her space to jump at the see-through xenonite wall. She lets out a sad chirp, almost a cry, as I watch her pound her claws on the wall.
I let out a shaky sigh, leaning back until my back hits the opposite wall.
Lucy emits a sad warble as Sandy cries out again, hitting the wall repeatedly. I watch them, feeling a stone stuck in my throat as I see Lucy standing slowly, shaky, but she falls back down, and Sandy cries.
I palm my face, feeling my eyes heat up as I look through my fingers.
It’s a mother and daughter, unable to reach each other because one is dying while the other is being kept away from that fact.
It’s depressing to look at.
Lucy lets out a sad warble once more, giving up on standing. Sandy cries as I let out a shaky breath, placing my palm over my lips to stifle a sob, swallowing hard as I listen to Sandy’s cries while shaking my head.
“Sandy,” I say, but she doesn’t listen. “Sandy, enough,” I say again as she pounds her claws on the wall. I lean against the wall, watching, my chest aching.
—
“Promise you’ll get better soon?” I fold my mother’s skirt on my lap as I hear her giggle by the bed. Her hands move slowly as she plays with a red rubber band, while I continue to fold our dried clothes. They smell damp, as if they’ve been stuck inside a metal cabinet, but I’ve gotten used to it.
“Mom, stop laughing,” I say as I turn to her, seeing her grin as she adjusts her glasses up to her nose.
“I’m not,” she shakes her head, still grinning. “Why are you laughing?” I pout at her as I fully turn around.
She laughs again, shaking her head, and makes a star with the rubber band, showing it to me. “Nothing’s funny, baby. You’re just too serious. You’re starting to look like a monkey,” she jokes, and I sigh, rolling my eyes.
“So what if I am?” I turn back to my work, folding more clothes and setting them aside. “Aren’t you sad? You’ll be stuck in the med bay. I don’t have anyone here back in our room.”
I hear her snort. “Oh Simon, the med bay is just twenty steps away from this room!” She jokes, and I give her a disapproving look, frowning.
“Mom.” I watch her motion for me to come.
I sigh but stand anyway, setting the black shirt aside and sitting beside her. “Come play this with me, come on.” She moves the rubber band in her hand, letting it stretch across her fingers as I help her maneuver it, twisting it around her fingers and sliding mine underneath so the band switches onto my hand.
She does the same move, albeit slowly and shakily, but I wait.
“It’s just a cough, baby. I’ll be back soon,” she murmurs as I twist the band over her fingers and slide my fingers underneath to let it slip back onto my hand. I stretch the band onto my fingers and hand it to her, watching her slip it around my finger.
“I know. But I don’t like seeing you sick,” I say. “It must be those COI’s. They came here and brought the sickness. One of them must have been sick or something,” I mutter.
The band flies off my hand and down to the floor. I sigh, pinched and annoyed, as I bend down to grab it.
“It doesn’t matter now, does it? It’s happened; all we can hope for is that I get better soon,” she says.
“You will,” I respond as I slip my hands inside the rubber band, stretching it while letting my mother twist it around my fingers before sliding her fingers underneath to take it.
“Visit me always, okay? I know you hate the med bay—” she says.
“I will, of course I will visit you. Is that even a question?” I raise my head to meet her eyes as she smiles.
“Good, good. Alright, what are we worried about then? You look like someone already died.” She laughs and pokes my cheek.
I huff. She doesn’t let me take the band from her hand as she twists and turns it around before showing me a star.
“Here is a star for my beautiful boy,” she says with a smile, and my frown turns into a small smile as I snort at her. “This might be the only star I’ll get to see,” I say jokingly, and my mother smiles.
“One day, you’ll see a true star, and it’ll be the brightest star of all,” she murmurs.
I look down at the red rubber band in her hand, still formed into a star.
“I hope we both see it, Mom. It’ll be nice,” I say slowly. “We’ll both see the brightest star in the whole world.”
She smiles at that. “That would be nice indeed.”
—
I didn’t process what I was doing at first, but I was pressing the buttons on the wall that I had seen Eridians use when they entered the room—Sandy followed behind me as I tried to remember the symbols they pressed.
The door let out a loud whoosh as Sandy chirped excitedly.
“Grace is going to kill me for this, everyone is going to kill me. Rocky, Adrian, Grace. Welp–” I muttered under my breath as I wiped the tears from my cheeks. I felt stupid—or I didn’t know. I felt homesick. Not because I missed my universe or Eden, but because I missed my mom.
I shakily let out a breath; it felt heavy as tears fell down, and I hastily wiped them away, trying to breathe evenly.
The door opened—it wasn’t the room yet; there was another door after it, and I let Sandy enter. “The symbols are the same from the inside, I think. Do you remember what I pressed?” I asked Sandy, who bobbed excitedly as she ran inside the chamber.
The door closed, and I moved by the see-through xenonite wall, watching the inner door open when Sandy clicked a button beside her.
Sandy ran excitedly inside, almost knocking a few shelves down in her enthusiasm. She quickly peeled her xenonite suit off and basically pushed herself up to the box where Lucy was kept, chirping excitedly. Lucy moved, letting out a soft chirp, and it was as if she had been given strength. She eagerly turned, pushing herself up to put a claw on the wall of the box as Sandy did the same.
I smiled and leaned back against the wall behind me, sliding down to the floor and watching them interact. I knew Adrian would be angry; I was sure Rocky would be too, and I worried more about Grace. But I understood what a grieving child was like, and Sandy was on that path at the moment. I didn’t want her to end up like I had.
Lucy looked stronger now with Sandy around, and they chirped at each other— it was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. The hallway was still filled with flickering orange light, and no one had found us yet. However, it wouldn’t be long before they arrived. I would have to get Sandy out soon before they discovered I had let her in.
I watched them for a while, a small smile on my face. I could see how much more lively Lucy seemed; it was as if seeing her daughter made her feel at least a bit better.
Sandy turned to me, chirping again, and ran towards the door as I stood up and walked over. Hearing the beeps on the other side, I let her change back into her suit before she tapped the door. I opened it again, and she came out, chirping happily at me.
“Good?” I asked, smiling down at her as Sandy barreled straight into my leg. It was almost like a hug, but it looked more like she was rubbing her body against my leg.
I glanced at Lucy, who now lay down, chirping softly and letting out a happy trill as I let out a relieved sigh. A happy Eridian is a healthy one.
“Let’s get you out of here, okay?” I said as I stepped back. Sandy chirped excitedly, and we both bid our goodbyes to Lucy before walking down the corridor in silence.
I knew I shouldn’t have let her in. I didn’t know what they were doing, and I had no idea if whatever I had done could hurt Lucy, especially allowing her daughter in without any adult supervision nearby. I was certain I would hear about it later.
I knew it well, but I didn’t think I regretted it. Maybe it was just me, or maybe I felt it was cruel for them to decide not to let Lucy’s child visit, even if she was dying. I believed that the child should know; it shouldn’t be hidden from them.
They deserved as much information as possible, especially considering that she was Sandy’s mother after all.
“Guess we’re both leaving this lab happy huh, Sandy?” I say lightly. I expect a chirp back. Me and Sandy never really talked that much, but I’ve seen how lively and social she is with other Eridian children.
I stopped when I heard a weak sizzle, finally realizing that Sandy wasn’t walking beside me. Turning around, I saw her crumpled form on the floor, shaking, with steam coming from her body as I stood there shocked.
Shit.
