Chapter Text
I’m sprawled out on my stomach across my cot, the resonant hum of the Hail Mary driving into the center of my chest. This is a habit I’ve grown accustomed to whenever I’m bored, restless or otherwise annoyed. The deep vibration of the ship oddly enough grounds me (see what I did there?) despite the fact that I am now fifteen light years from home. Fifteen light years from any human, forever.
I need to stop thinking about that.
I could never forget the beautiful harmony of sounds Rocky made when I had finally reconnected with him just under nine months ago. Harmonic, guttural screeches of pure joy and energy. Those sounds made this, all of this—everything we had been through together—worth it and then some. Spending these last few months with him on this trip has made me realize something more; that I wouldn’t just save him, but I would kill for him.
Sometimes I find myself experiencing some odd, mutated form of cuteness aggression for this alien. Sure, he’s a three-hundred-pound, kind-of-terrifying, arachnid-like creature comprised mainly of rock… but, I think he compensates for that with his wit, humor, and intelligence. Oh, and he saved my life. Coolest best friend ever. Also, is the perfect height and size to sit on my lap like… a pet, or something, even if he’s not, or hug, if I really wanted to.
Too bad I can’t.
I’ve been really struggling with the fact that I will never experience touch again. I don’t believe Eridians have the same somatosensory response humans have, and thus do not touch often. They don’t need it like we do. I don’t think Rocky would ever go to the extent of making anything compatible for me to touch him. It would be way too complex. I’d do it for him in a heartbeat, but that’s from the perspective of someone that needs it. So, this is why I’ve been lying in bed for three hours, despite the fact that I had a great amount of sleep. The hum of the Mary is some kind of comforting feeling on my chest. I’ve also been doing it to get away from Rocky—not because he’s a nuisance, but because I don’t want to come off as bothered or annoyed to him. It’s really difficult to be pleasant with all of this going on, and even more so to a very hypersensitive and responsive individual like Rocky.
I’m being selfish about this all. I know Rocky hates to be alone. I need to check up on him. I use what feels like all of the strength in my body to lift myself from the mattress, my muscles and bones groaning under my own weight. I open the hatch to what is now our shared room—courtesy of Rocky ever so graciously moving himself and all of his items in. I walk out slowly out into the hall, heading for the lab room. Upon entry, I see Rocky freely moving about in his habitat-workstation apparatus we finished a few months ago. He’s idly tinkering with yet another xenonite contraption, when, upon hearing my footfalls, he pivots swiftly.
“Friend Grace! You are awake.” Rocky says, his translation as monotonous as ever. I’ve learned to mostly annul the tones of the translation and instead hone in on his true voice, which, in the subdued background chirps of speech, carries an excited and enthusiastic inflection to its sound.
“Hey, Rock. Yep… I had a nice nap.” I lie, while also managing to make it immediately awkward. If he couldn’t tell that something was off by my mid-day siesta, he can now.
“Grace is okay, question?” Rocky remarks swiftly. “Voice is ♫♪,” he follows, with an unintelligible word I can only imagine means “wavering” or “odd”.
“Yeah, I’m all good bud. Just… waking up. Still. Humans are weird.” I’m only adding insult to injury with how incohesive and uncharacteristic of myself these responses are. It might just be a better idea to come clean.
“Grace, I know you are not telling the truth. What is problem?” Rocky responds immediately. So much for whatever front I had put on for him…
“Rock, you’re busy, I don’t want to add on to the things you need to worry about. It’s just a human thing,” I say. “It’s weird.”
Rocky adjusts his carapace in a more relaxed albeit formal manner. “Friend Grace, nothing you do is odd for Rocky. I hear all parts of you, share room with you. Hear Grace talk to self, see human film with Grace. Even hear Grace eat. Used to you now. What is problem?” He states reassuredly, and I can’t help but smile and bite my lip a bit. Whatever reply I had is out of my head now, and I find myself addled with a sensation of warmth at his response.
“Well, in a simple way, I’m touch-starved. I will never see any humans again. Humans love touch. We crave touch, and it regulates our nervous system.” I’ve had enough lessons on human biology with Rocky that he should understand the connection here.
“Grace is touch-starved? Hunger? Why humans always hungry, always eating, disgust disgust disgust.” He teases momentarily before getting back to the topic. “Rocky is curious. Touch provides healing, or good sensation?”
I think for a moment. “Touch is a good sensation, it makes us feel wanted… close, comfortable. Humans can feel alone, even when they aren’t alone. I know it’s odd, I assume Eridians don’t process touch like this, and I don’t want you to feelobligatedorany-“
I’m suddenly cut off by Rocky. “Grace, Grace, talking too fast. Is not odd. Eridian exist in pack nature, all work together and lay together while sleep. Is for protection and comfort. I understand, miss touch, too. Miss Adrian touch most of all. Touch is important, very good, ♫ ♪♪ for both Rocky and Grace. Will work on solution.”
My heart immediately soars, and even behind the thick panes of his habitat, I want to crush an arm through them and hug him (if ammonia, depressurization and the unbearable heat weren’t in the way). I can hardly contain myself, and Rocky pushes himself towards the wall of his workspace and leans his carapace up against it. He’s holding a very low trill, which I have no idea what to make of, but I can only assume it means happiness or comfort. Deep below all of this, though, there’s a massive sense of relief. He needs this as much as I do, and he wants to fix it with me.
It’s the first time I’ve ever felt like I belonged, and it’s so characteristic of someone like myself to only share that feeling with… well, an alien. An outsider. We’re two pieces of a puzzle, and I’ve never had that with anyone else. I wouldn’t change it for anything.
I can’t wait to show him how loved he makes me feel.