Chapter Text
Growing old sucked. It really, really sucked.
And not just in the way that your hair fades to gray, or your skin shrivels up like a raisin, or thinking to yourself, do kids these days not have school anymore? when you pass a teenager on the street, minding their business, in the middle of the day.
No, it wasn’t any of that, Grace had come to realize.
Erid’s gravity had tremendously sped up the process of his joints giving up on him. That, in and of itself, sucked enough. But what was really harrowing, more than his decaying health, more than becoming grumpy and nonsensical, was knowing he was but a blip in the minds of his family and friends on Erid.
He could make peace with his limited lifespan. He couldn’t, however, make peace with the fact their time with him was so very short when you put it on the timeline of their seven-hundred year (give or take) lifespan. He shivered whenever he tortured himself with the thoughts of Rocky and Adrian brushing over his memory without a thought in the next fifty, one-hundred years. He knew he would not make it even as a passing comment within the next two hundred.
He knew he was going to die surrounded by his mate, Adrian, and the flocks of other Eridians he regarded fondly over the years.
He knew Rocky, his mate, his reason, would die with his other mate. His real mate. They would die together, intertwined, as all mated Eridians do, without needing to revisit the memory of Grace.
Grace inhaled shakily. He sat on the same shoreline he had for the past twenty-six years, looking at the same, yet ever changing beach. A woven, noisy patterned blanket, courtesy of the Eridian Frodo, softly billowed from where it lay across the seat of his wheelchair next to him. The cold wind bit at his long since hollowed out cheeks, but he found the feeling invigorating. Anything to make him feel alive a little longer.
The water lapped at his sorry excuse for a pair of Converse. The cotton canvas was ripped in more places than it was held together, splotchy and darkened with decades of use, but Grace never really used the replacement shoes Rocky had whipped up for him. He tried his best to make use of, and preserve, his left over belongings from Earth.
He couldn’t confidently say he missed Earth, not anymore. He did for a long time. Much longer than the years he spent on the Hail Mary.
But…
It was different, now. Of course it was—how could it not be after spending over half your life on an alien planet? He frequently thought in Eridian more than English, dreamed of spindly legs and carapaces more than hooked noses and freckled skin. His kids weren’t really kids anymore, they were hatchlings that had been older than him by Earth measure when he first took up the one and only position of an extraterrestrial lifeform teacher. Erid was his home now. He thought, for a moment, that Erid became his home the second the Blip-A appeared on the Hail Mary’s radar all those years ago.
He absentmindedly fidgeted with the sand underneath him. While he could no longer support himself on his own legs anymore, he still valued the feeling of soil and Erid beneath him. He especially fancied when Rocky would pester and pester him to allow him to carry Grace on his carapace.
Look, he only needed to be pestered because of the one or two (or three…) times Rocky “accidentally” tripped and dropped him into the ocean.
Sighing, he skipped a pebble across the surface of a wave.
His time was dwindling. It always had been, but now, his sunset was approaching within a few months. Rocky and Adrian knew this, too.
It did not make it any less painful.
The Eridians, namely those closest to him, had spent the last couple of years talking over and finalizing with Grace how exactly he wanted the preparations for his funeral. Eridian culture held extremely intricate, gentle preparations and routines for departed Eridians. There were grand, carefully carved and decorated headstones for those who wished for simplicity. There were also opposite procedures—buildings erected from the ground to mainline the dead Eridian’s achievements or personality, glimmering chords reflected off the building to be played day in and day out to sing of the dead. Special jewelry and clothing were laid with said Eridian regardless of the decorations on the outside. It was to properly send them back into the soil to be reincarnated with the next hatchlings.
That was, arguably, the thing about Erid that Grace had never completely wrapped his head around. Back when they first met, he and Rocky had spent hours discussing their own biology to each other, and once they slowed down, discussed death, and sex, and other typically taboo topics for their respective lifeforms.
Akin to when Grace explained relativity and radiation to Rocky, Grace spent about three hours refusing to believe reincarnation was real and just a regular, everyday occurrence on Erid. All life on Erid reincarnated, even the non sentient life forms. Even if you were a bacteria, if you housed a single cell on Erid, you can bet you’ll end up as something like a beautiful lotus flower in the next.
According to Rocky, Eridians hadn’t fully solved the root of incarnation—religion, incomprehensible across the Universe, it would seem—but the functionality of it had been discovered and discussed thousands of years ago in Erid’s history. There had been the ongoing question of, why does my hatchling slightly resemble several departed Eridians and our pet Shadow Monster?, until it was realized that once in the ground, after several years and changing seasons, Erid would recycle lifeforms from the ground into new ones. Erid’s very own process of renewing matter, abiding by the rules of physics.
”There is just no freaking way,” Grace shook his head, arms crossed and ignoring Rocky.
“Grace grumpy for nothing,” Rocky huffed. “Is simple Eridian history. Not like learn, question? Want be ignorant, question?”
Grace rolled his eyes. “Jerk.”
“Earth really have no renew matter? Is fascinating. Why no crisis over this, question?”
“Oh,” Grace snorted, then laughed. Rocky trilled in confusion and it only made him laugh harder, gripping his sides.
“What funny, question?”
“Nothing,” Grace waved him off. “Nothing, uh, yeah, there’s totally no crisis over not knowing what comes after death on Earth. We’re all super cool about it.”
“Sarcasm.”
It was a melancholy memory and fact to reflect on. One he particularly enjoyed ruminating in, knowing that fate did not await him. He was not native to Erid. He was an outsider, a parasite. He would die as a human and drift into the abyss as a human. What awaited him after death remained a mystery.
He hadn’t realized he had begun crying until a fat teardrop landed on the hand holding his knees to his chest. Flinching, he wiped it away but did not raise a hand to wipe his face. It was gratifying to feel. His humanity was another part of Earth he kept with him. Eridians had emotions, absolutely, and he could read Rocky’s emotions with a simple glance, but he still struggled with others. The intricacy of social interaction was hard enough as is, but on an alien planet, where said aliens had no faces? Yeah, Grace surrendered to his social constipation and accepted Eridian emotion would likely never be readable to him.
Just another thing that divided him from his mate completely. Another trait that showed, despite his existence on Erid, inside a biodome personally tailored towards him with daily visitors from friends, he was utterly unlike his companions and planet. He was the one and only parasite from interstellar space to inhabit Erid.
His vocal chords did not even come close to the melodic flow of Eridian language. And he had tried. For years, he would attempt to mimic Eridian for so long he would lose his voice for days afterwards. And then he would try some more. He tried to modify Mongolian throat singing, tried to train the muscles in his stomach and chest to tense up in a way that could make his useless human voice come out as the intertwined notes of whalesong and clicks and trills and chitters that made up the Eridian language.
Rocky admonished him for prolonged periods of time whenever he caught on to what Grace had been up to. Stubborn human, he would tsk, English sound beautiful, too. Grace sound beautiful.
He huffed, now wiping his face clean of tears. Crying sessions tended to take a toll on him in his past years. His heart and lungs struggled to keep up with the strain that crying put on them. And he was a pretty pathetic crier, so it made sense.
“Grace!”
Grace craned his neck around with pleasant surprise. He hadn’t heard Rocky approaching at all, too absorbed in his wallowing. His face softened.
“Hey, Rock,” he sniffled.
Rocky’s xenonite suit glittered lightly in the artificial sunlight of the biodome. He tilted his carapace, upbeat trot slowing down upon closer sonar observation of Grace.
He inched nearer until he was flush against Grace. He settled his arms underneath him, saving one to run up and down Grace’s crossed legs. He “looked up” at Grace (Eridian body language for turning your attention to the person in front of you, he had learned).
“Grace crying,” Rocky stated. The secondary tones were low with concern. “Again. What need, question? Water temperature ill-fitting, food bland, question?”
Grace smoothed his hand over the top of Rocky’s suit, the heat exuding from it calming him somewhat. They both knew the reason for Grace’s depression, but they danced around the subject as always, as if it was some big mystery, a new health issue for the medical team to solve. “Nothing. I’m just an old man reminiscing as old men do.”
Rocky clicked, but he did not laugh.
“Rocky not like. Grace sad. So sad, sad, sad,” he warbled, lowering his carapace into himself, “every time Rocky see Grace. Please tell Rocky how to fix.”
“You don’t need to fix anything.”
“Want. Miss Grace—always miss Grace—miss happy Grace. Adrian, too. Rocky Adrian talk about how improve Grace quality of life many, many time. Never work.”
Grace looked away. “I know, bud,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.”
One of Rocky’s hands came up to card his claws through Grace’s hair. He closed his eyes when warmth encompassed the base of his skull, leaning into it. The waves rippled calmly.
“No need apology,” Rocky reassured, then, quietly, “Grace worry for life end, again.”
It wasn’t a question, and he didn’t need to hear Eridian grammar to know that. Rocky had seen him deteriorate over the years, but especially within the last one when his health took a turn for the worse. Even with the cane Adrian had personally crafted for him, he began needing additional assistance to walk to his classroom. And, eventually, was unable to walk anywhere on his own. It was then that it fully sank in.
Thanks to the detriment of his aging body increased tenfold by alien conditions he was not suited for, he was going to die, soon, and there was nothing he could do to extend his time. He became susceptible to falls, typically needing Rocky with him at all times on particularly bad days. His memory started to fail him, and he saw how much the memory of an elderly human frightened not just Rocky, but the Eridians as a whole. Precise memory was a key component in an Eridian’s life, having it fail you was borderline a myth, in a way. It was then that the Eridians treated him with such delicacy that he lashed out and damaged every object in his home—himself included—humiliated for being painfully pitiful.
And Rocky, of course, was there to pick up the pieces. He lightly teased him for his useless human brain, chittering about being the superior alien, before letting Grace scream and kick and cry himself to sleep with his face smushed against the xenonite suit. He shooed Grace’s medical team out for several days, monitoring Grace’s health himself and nurturing him back to normalcy with the occasional aid of a reprogrammed Armando. There were days Rocky had to feed Grace, Grace too low on strength and the will to live to move his arms. Something so taboo, so disgusting in Eridian culture, Rocky had done without hesitation.
The reminder made Grace’s lungs feel tight inside his chest.
“I don’t want you to forget me,” he admitted weakly.
Rocky bristled.
“Eridian memory perfect. Can’t forget.”
Grace’s bottom lip quivered and he lowered his head between his knees again.
“You know what I mean.”
“Rocky never forget Grace,” Rocky retorted, and they both declined to point out the mournful tunes sung under the facade of irritation. “Insult to assume! Grace think Rocky dumb like human. Hurt me!”
Grace didn’t lift his head. Banter required a lot of masking nowadays, and the energy Grace had for it became less frequent as time went on. Not that he didn’t want to, and he soaked in the insults Rocky threw at him, but he just wanted to be, to exist without the expectation of pretending nothing was wrong.
Suddenly, the claws in his hair pulled taut. Grace blinked in surprise as he was forced to look over to his mate.
“Dude, that’s low.”
Rocky chirped with humor.
“So fragile,” he said, and, look, losing more than half of your mobility damages a guy’s sex drive, so Grace chose to ignore the flush instantly pricking at his cheeks from the words.
“My Grace so fragile,” Rocky trailed off, loosening his grip and using his other hand to fidget anxiously at his side. “Rocky never, never, never forget kind, fragile, brave, Grace. Statement.”
“You will,” Grace inhaled sharply, moment broken. “I know you physically can’t, but, I’ve been a part of less than a quarter of your life.”
“Not matter. Rocky remember everything, short or long.”
“That’s not what I’m getting at.”
“Rocky can’t forget Grace.”
“I know!” he gritted out.
“No! You not know.”
“Yes, I do! You might miss me for a couple of years, but you’ll move on, and fast. Fast, because you’ll live longer than you knew me. So much-” his voice broke, “so much longer than when you knew me.”
He pulled away to tug at his hair himself.
Rocky skittered around him anxiously, carapace low when he tapped the sand to better hear Grace’s rapidly increasing heart rate.
“No! Enough! Rocky never forget Grace. Stop say that. Not when Grace still here, no past tense when Grace still here. Please.”
Grace shook his head. His chest stuttered over its own breathing.
“You… you will live many, many more years having moved past me. You’ll live and die without me. I won’t watch you grow old,” and now, speaking it aloud, Grace didn’t really care about the tears streaming down his cheeks again, too caught up in his downward spiral of misery.
His head was throbbing from pulling at his greyed hair.
“I won’t be there if you and Adrian decide to have hatchlings, I won’t watch my own students grow old, or witness the response from Earth, or-”
“Grace.”
“I won’t see Erid’s technical advances and how far you will progress past Earth,” he continued, fully bawling, “I won’t have a real Erid burial that marks me an equal, because I’m not Eridian-”
“Enough, Grace! Stop now! Do breathing exercise to calm heart!”
“I won’t be there to be laid to rest beside you when- when you and Adrian die-”
Rocky had him toppled over in an instant, trapping his sides and hovering over his chest.
“No more, no more!” Rocky wailed, “Rocky remember everything! Rocky remember first caregivers when Rocky was hatchling! Rocky remember first song though Rocky so little!”
Grace sobbed, ugly and unrestrained. He thrashed under his mate, pounding his fists against the xenonite suit, which he knew was nothing more than a light tap to Rocky. He was well and truly throwing a tantrum, but sue him, he had earned it. His heart was a rapid thump thump thump in his chest and his breathing came in wheezes, but he couldn’t stop. Not when he was unsure if he would wake up the next day, when he was going to miss out on the rest of his mate’s life.
“Rocky remember first caregiver- Luna. Luna with scary, sad crack in crust that was from leg to radiator.”
Grace paused, but only for a second, whimpering pathetically.
“Luna die when Rocky turn fifty-three Earth years. Rocky remember perfect, and Rocky visit their burial each week for mourn.”
Grace struggled to catch his breath and coughed around broken gasps, spit pooling in his mouth and running down his chin to mix with his tears. He felt like he was about to fall off Erid with how dizzy he was.
Rocky used a claw to gently caress Grace’s face, not caring about the tears as much as he cared about providing comfort.
He continued,
“Rocky remember when first meet Grace. Rocky scared, but so excite. Rocky disgust with leaky space blob who not see Rocky beyond walls.”
Grace shuddered something close to a laugh, sniffling and taking one of Rocky’s spare claws into his hand. He gripped it tight like Rocky would disappear otherwise.
“Grace so jumpy when first meet. Turn to flee when saw Rocky! Amaze. Grace hair on head soft, Rocky first thought. Captivate and soft, soft, soft.
“You wear clunky spacesuit and stumble. You play with spherical rubber when bored. You curl up when sleep like hatchling. You insist watch Rocky eat for first time. You show Rocky movie on thinking machine and cry, laugh, groan, even though is fiction. You talk to self.”
Rocky’s voice hummed with something bittersweet, “and you save Rocky.”
He relented a bit, backing up to give Grace room to breathe. He was still weeping, but it had turned into something silent and timid as he stared blearily at his best friend, his mate. His grip loosened slightly but he still had Rocky’s claws secure in his hands, stroking them absently.
“You saved me,” Grace mumbled, “time and time again.”
“Rocky love Grace. Always save Grace, and Grace always save Rocky. Grace save Erid and Earth. Brave Grace.”
He sniffled. Meltdowns took a real toll on him.
“Will never, for rest of life, forget Grace.” Rocky crooned.
Grace smiled shakily.
“We make quite a pair, don’t we?”
He brought Rocky’s claws to his mouth and kissed them wetly, murmuring a soft apology for being gross on his suit.
Rocky chirped in agreement and laid on Grace’s chest to his best ability, mostly propped up by his legs so as to not pancake Grace on the ground.
Grace wrapped his arms around him, wishing beyond the sky that he could feel him fully.
“Rocky not know…” Rocky started, now wiping the continuous flow of tears on Grace’s face, “Rocky not know how Rocky will survive mate Grace die.”
Grace traced the ridges of Rocky’s suit, the dips and valleys that were tight against his crust. If he closed his eyes, he was feeling Rocky’s jagged edges and cracks without the barrier of the suit.
“You have Adrian. We both know they’ll kill you if you die.”
“Adrian understand,,” Rocky replied, brushing over the attempt at humor, “well, Adrian never really understand Grace and Rocky, but, they almost die when Rocky gone many years. Adrian understand. ”
Grace hated the somber, broken undertones of Rocky’s voice. He hated that he had let himself spiral enough to hear them.
“No. You need Adrian as much as you need me. You’ll… you’ll figure it out.”
“Figure it out,” Rocky parroted flatly.
“Yeah, Rock. You’re brilliant and you’re strong. The strongest person I know. I’ve never seen you give up on anything before.”
“Would for mourn Grace. Would by choice, would by accident.”
“Don’t say that,” Grace whispered hoarsely, “please, don’t say that.”
“Rocky need Grace,” Rocky sang hushedly.
“I need you too. But I need you to keep living even more.”
Rocky pretended to mull this over.
Grace pretended to let him.
“Where is Adrian, anyways?”
Rocky grumbled, probably at the desperate attempt at change in subject.
“They are prepare gift for Grace.”
Grace raised a brow. “Gift? And I’m just now hearing about it? What gives?”
“Is surprise. Human tradition!”
Rocky trilled when Grace huffed a wet laugh.
“Human tradition. I get it.”
“Grace want walk with Rocky to meet Adrian, question?”
Grace nodded, “of course I do, pal-”
“Good! Rocky carry Grace now,” Rocky exclaimed, jumping up at once and lowering his carapace for Grace to climb on.
Grace groaned, clambering into an upright position and catching his breath. “You still haven’t told anyone I let you carry me, right?”
Rocky hummed.
Grace narrowed his eyes.
“Rocky?”
“Rocky tell no one. Protect Grace ego. Is not laughing matter, statement, ” he answered, innocently.
“Uh-huh,” he said, unconvinced. He pushed himself up with his arms to bring his trembling legs over Rocky. “It is absolutely not funny or embarrassing, so I don’t see why you would tell anyone.”
“Yes, yes. Rocky lip like seals…”
Grace gave him a light kick once atop. “They better be.”
Admittedly, he knew he was perceived similarly as a lost puppy to the Eridians. For the first couple of years on Erid, his biodome was the attraction of the century. Though the outside was pitch-black to Grace when he stuck his face against the wall to peer out, the Eridians observing him on the other side could hear him clear as day.
At first, he had vehemently forbade Rocky from allowing anyone but himself, Adrian, and Grace’s medical team to observe him. He was already so sickly and broken spirited upon arrival to Erid, the thought of having anyone but the few necessary people observing him made him queasy. He didn’t want an alien planet to think of humanity as gangly, squishy creatures that couldn’t walk two feet without expelling excrement out of their mouth hole.
“Grace will love present,” Rocky bragged, trotting along, “Adrian work very hard, very proud. Much trial and error and break things. But is okay, Rocky Adrian figure it out. Deft Rocky and artist Adrian.”
Grace whistled.
“Oh, yeah? You’re not one to toot your own horn, don’t get my hopes up too high, now. What if my heart gives out while I’m on top of you?”
Rocky chittered, laughing, “we very mad at waste of gift, then. Kill you for die! And Rocky no have horn to toot.”
Grace chuckled, attempting a laugh, but it seems his energy was drained for the time being. He tried to not make it too obvious.
After the painstakingly long first year of Grace’s life on Erid, he slowly started to recover. His medical team, along with a plethora of science Eridians, had almost fully perfected cloning Grace’s muscle tissue to create meat that was safe and chock-full of the nutrients Grace had been severely lacking. From then on, his health and general mood perked up day by day instead of the previous week by week. He became more thoughtful in allowing the general public of Erid to observe him, sure they were leg-over-carapace to see, up close, the alien that had saved their planet and now took up a stretch of land nearby their science center, housed in what was essentially a zoo. He often thought about his own students during this time, knowing their youthful eagerness to learn would have won Grace over in showing them the scary space monster.
So, he agreed to it. He agreed to a one way wall outside of the biodome (well, one way due to Grace lacking sonar ability in any regard), where the Eridians desperate to know about the new lifeform on their planet could observe and learn about him. It bordered on exhibitionism, but, hey, Rocky assured him that his house was entirely soundproof and could not be seen inside by any prying ears. He wasn’t interested in skimping out on their frequent intimacy.
He sighed, relaxing onto the claws that always kept him carefully steady, gently supporting his lower back and brushing under his shirt every now and then. He and Rocky had tried to work out a position where he could be supported by two of Rocky’s hands, but it ended up with Rocky awkwardly stumbling as he walked, tripping over the sand inelegantly and causing Grace’s aches to bloom into pain.
He sat criss crossed, albeit a tad awkward, comfortable but constantly aching. Any amount of movement caused him to creak and groan these days and he, yet again, cursed himself and his inadequate, susceptible-to-otherworldly-conditions body.
It was as if he was regressing. He felt a lot like he did those last years on the trip back to Erid and the first years on the ground. Becoming bedbound for weeks at a time, or taking a leave of absence from his class led to prolonged periods of Grace stuck with his thoughts. That never ended well, and the dawning fear of being forgotten was one that only intensified the closer his death creeped upon him, a looming shadow that flitted about in his peripherals.
“Adrian is wait in airlock,,” Rocky informed him as they approached the massive airlock on the edge of the dome. “You excite? Rocky much excite.”
“Grace much excite,” he confirmed, inhaling deeply to absorb the smell of saltwater.
“Good, good. Grace rest after present. Is for tomorrow.”
Grace hummed inquisitively but submitted to his patience.
Rocky lowered himself to the ground, gently laying Grace atop the sand covered stone spreading out from the entryway. Grace scooched until he was sat against the wall for support, peering over to watch Rocky unlock the door with a whoosh.
“Adrian!” Rocky whistled happily, “Grace is here. You come out with present, question?”
Grace grinned when he heard Adrian’s unmistakably graceful voice drone back,
“My love. Yes, yes, is ready. I come out.”
Rocky hopped around in excitement and Grace let himself laugh. He hadn’t seen him so excited in a while. Whatever it was that he and Adrian had cooked up, it must’ve been important.
Adrian stepped out of the airlock, tapping, zoning in on Grace with a cheerful squeak.
“Hello, Friend Grace! You are healthy today?”
“Hi, Adrian! Uh- yeah, uh, I’m alright today, as far as everything goes.”
Rocky, thankfully, did not correct his blatant lie, still jumping around a few feet away, though Grace knew he was paying attention to them.
His smile pulled against his cheeks when Adrian clambered over to press their carapace, clad in xenonite, against his forehead, a common but not entirely universal Eridian greeting for close friends.
“Excellent. As you know, tomorrow is annual migration of Lacerta across ocean. Big, big festival.”
“Right! Rocky won’t shut up about it.”
Rocky paused his joyful movements to flick a clawful of sand in their direction.
‘Lacerta’ was Grace’s name for one of many Erid species he had learned about. They looked strikingly similar to lizards back on Earth, but obviously functioned completely differently. They were gentle, friendly omnivores that lived off a diet consistent with oceanic plants and algae. Lacertas were one of the few pack animals to make a spectacle out of their migration cycle, so the Eridians had formed a long since upheld tradition of celebrating said migration. Though, now, Grace was sure they used it as an excuse to mingle and decorate grand, ceremonial structures. Grace had managed to pop into a few festivals—even ones outside of the Lacerta migration—but always retired early, too clumsy and claustrophobic in his own ill-suited xenonite suit.
Hold on…
“What, exactly, is the nature of this present?”
Adrian chirped and clicked excitedly, presumably aware of Grace’s brain fog dissipating long enough to catch on. They scuttled back into the airlock before dragging out a Grace-sized suit that fell over their carapace, flexible. It wasn’t rough and impervious like his other xenonite body suit that restricted his movement almost entirely. It freaking moved. It folded and bent over Adrian, and Grace almost started bawling again. He could wear this without needing to stand.
“Oh, shucks, you two,” Grace said shakily, his cheeks legitimately hurting now from how hard he was smiling, “is that what I think it is?”
Rocky jumped so high Grace was afraid he’d concuss himself on the top of the dome thousands of feet in the air. Adrian sang enthusiastically, rapidly mimicking a human nod.
“Is comfortable suit for Friend Grace!”
“Now we three attend festival, all day!” Rocky cheered, like this was a bigger deal than Grace turning his ship around to give up his life to save him and Erid.
“This is…” Grace began, speechless after Adrian handed him the suit and he was able to feel it himself. It was unequivocally xenonite material, Grace had been around enough xenonite based creations to know that, but there was something else that allowed it to bend over his fingers the way it did.
It was also jaw droppingly gorgeous.
The material around the wrists were embedded diagonally with vibrant gemstones that followed a uniform pattern, much to Grace’s surprise. The Eridians were never ones to produce evenly colored items, or consistent vivids in general, considering the whole blind thing. Expensive, prided jewelry chains hung from the shoulders down to the elbows, clinking softly when Grace turned it over. The head carried the load of the heaviness, and upon closer inspection, he realized the weight was due to the built in lights above where his forehead would be. The palms of the suit had sleek, onyx adjacent buttons on the three dominant fingertips that Grace had assumed was for decoration, but he realized they modified the lights in various ways upon pressing them. He marveled at the light spectrums that poured out of the headpiece, laughing breathlessly at the changing sand he aimed it at.
“You added a light for me,” he whispered.
“So Grace can see Erid surface, surrounding, friends, without hold light,” Rocky confirmed.
Grace inhaled sharply.
The same jewelry that cascaded down the shoulder pieces was also splayed out along the neckline. It was staggeringly pretty.
He looked up at the two, who waited in front of him expectantly. Rocky was jittering with excitement, still, but Adrian’s demeanor became calm, as always.
“This is the greatest thing I’ve ever gotten,” Grace wiped a tear, massively opposed to a repeat of earlier, “thank you. Thank you both.”
Rocky exploded into song, asking, you like? Grace like? while he rolled around. Adrian chuffed at the display.
“Was very expense and impossible,” they admitted, “is why take long, long, long time.”
“I can tell. I don’t even want to know how you made it. It’s incredibly impressive. I- I don’t really have words.”
“Adrian create accessory for Grace. Many study for human color! Adrian amaze… Rocky want hatchlings.”
“O-kay, you horny little bastard, I can see that,” Grace snickered, “you outdid yourself, Adrian. You, too Rock. Thank you.”
Adrian simply inclined their carapace. They and Grace both ignored Rocky’s continuous flurry of excitement.
Grace took a deep breath, quelling his eyes to not water any longer, and smiled.
“What time are we going?”