Chapter Text
Nothing breaks my heart more than hearing Rocky’s trills of distress.
It’s a sound that cuts harshly through your chest and fills your heart with anguish. They’re notes that I instinctively want to stop and try to comfort before I even know why.
So I usually try never to make him sing that kind of despair. And generally, to do that, I just have to take care of myself and try… not to die, basically.
It’s still a bit strange that someone cares enough about me to make that sort of sound. Stratt was right about several things, including my social life: I had no family, no pets, and the friends I’d had were mostly superficial or work-related back on Earth. Although my relationship with the members of the Hail Mary project team was a bit different.
I’m fairly confident that I’d developed a somewhat more sincere friendship with Carl, Captain Yáo, Ilyukhina, Dubois, Shapiro, and even Stratt herself. But either they ended up dead, or they were extremely willing to send me to my death, friendship or not. I’ll be honest, I’m still a little resentful about this, but I understand. I’ve understood for a long time. In the end, I completed the mission and saved our species. They were right. However, because of all that, whenever I remembered what they had done, I would sometimes find myself thinking that my life wasn’t worth that much. Nobody seemed to care a lot about it in my past, anyway.
But I met Rocky, and Rocky cares. Rocky always cares. I just struggled a bit with that fact at first. Humans don’t live that long. So I wondered if I was perhaps just an interesting fish -or some other fleeting creature- to him. Something you can form a bond with, but whose death would affect you only briefly before you moved on to something else.
It was an unfounded fear. Everything Rocky has ever done has always shown me that he cares about my life. But my experience on Earth left its mark on me.
The slight doubts I had on this matter have completely vanished since the beginning of my journey to Erid. Today, I know – with a twinge of sadness – that Rocky has absolutely no desire to see me dead. I must admit that I haven’t been in the best of form of late, and sometimes he panics more when I can’t sleep and collapse from exhaustion than he did when we nearly died in Adrian’s atmosphere.
And it’s to the sound of that same familiar panic that I wake up right now.
When I come to, my head is heavy and hurts terribly. It feels like a jackhammer is trying to drill through my skull and turn it inside out, with no intention of stopping. The rest of my body hurts too, but my head is by far what’s causing me the most pain.
I struggle to open my eyes, but my vision is blurry. So I close my eyelids again for a moment as the pain in my head radiates to the back of my pupils. I vaguely hear Rocky’s frightened notes in the background, muffled by my confused mind.
I really don’t like it when I make Rocky worry that much about me. So I focus and force myself to open my eyes to assess what’s going on.
I’m lying on the floor in the spaceship’s lab, next to the central table. I catch a glimpse of the underside of my friend’s spaceball and, through my dizziness, I vaguely remember why I would be lying on the floor in space in the first place.
It’s been over three years since we set off for Erid. We should arrive in a few months. This morning, Rocky and I wanted to test the flexibility of some new types of alloys that could be used for… something (granted, we do have all the time in the world to run every conceivable scientific experiment), so we activated the ship’s centrifuge to operate at 1.00 G / 9.8 m/s².
I remember that we started working, and after a few hours I felt lightheaded. After that, I don’t remember a thing.
Probably because I fainted.
“Grace!” I hear Rocky shout next to me.
“I’m okay, buddy,” I reassure him automatically, placing my hand on the floor to sit up.
I struggle to pull myself up into a sitting position and immediately regret it. My body seems to want to nose-dive back toward the floor. Nothing around me stays still, and a sudden wave of nausea hits me. I close my eyes once more, mentally ordering my awful headache and nausea to subside. But when my hand rests against the side of my head in a futile attempt to soothe the throbbing pain, I feel something wet along my hairline.
I open my eyes again and look at my hand. My fingers are red.
Oh shit, I’m bleeding.
“Grace not okay!” Rocky exclaims next to me. “Not okay at all! Have to see Armando! Now!”
I try to locate the wound on my head and gently feel my skull. I wince when my fingers find the cut. Liquid is oozing from it. And, yeah, wow, I’m bleeding pretty badly.
“What happened?” I ask, applying pressure to my wound. I’m going to have to bandage this and fast.
“Grace was not well, then faint and hit head,” Rocky explains, and I can hear the anxiety in the back of his voice. “It was bad, bad, bad!”
I ran out of coma slurry 6 weeks ago, and my diet consists only of Taumoeba now. Taumoeba soup. Taumoeba goo. Taumoeba everything. It hadn’t taken me long to start hating my coma slurry once the solid food was gone -I would have given anything to eat a single potato chip back then- but now, compared to the Taumoeba, the coma slurry is a five-star meal.
The Taumoeba isn’t the most nutritious food. And my body doesn’t like it very much. It really has a hard time keeping it down. I throw up 2 out of every 3 meals. I’m tired and weak all the time, and I’ve started losing weight at an alarming rate. I’m also beginning to feel cold and have to cover myself with several layers of clothes.
So Rocky has been in a constant state of worry for six weeks. That’s why, even though I was still just as weak, I suggested we try out these new alloys this morning, pretending I was feeling a little better.
In the end, I made Rocky’s anxiety about me skyrocket.
I should have just stayed put.
“Alright,” I say, conceding. “I’ll go see-”
I stop when my eyes finally focus more clearly on my friend to my left.
There’s a huge crack in one of the pentagons on his xenonite ball.
As if he had, once again, tried to break out of his protective pod.
“Rocky, did you… did you try to get out of your ball again?!” I ask, horrified.
Rocky doesn’t answer. A surge of anger adds to my fear at his silent admission.
“Do you have a death wish!?” I hiss, a horrific flash of the soot-like residue from my dying friend’s wounds on the floor coming back to my memory. Waking up to a dying Rocky, not knowing if he would survive, was a nightmare I never want to experience again. “You know it can kill you!”
Rocky’s body bristles at that, mirroring my anger. “Grace not moving! Like on Adrian!”
My anger quiets down a little when I hear this.
So, the ‘Adrian episode’ didn’t just leave scars on me. Apparently, we’re both a bit traumatized by it. Rocky dying has to be my biggest fear. But maybe this fear is mutual.
I’m probably a hypocrite for that. The only times I don’t see my own life as a priority are when Rocky’s is in danger. Still, the thought of Rocky dying in my atmosphere to save me fills me with dread.
“Rocky, I beg you, if you can hear my heart, don’t come out of your pod, alright?” I say, and I don’t know why I’m suddenly feeling emotional. But I feel sick, Rocky nearly hurt himself, and my bleeding head still feels as though it’s split in two. “Only come out if there’s absolutely no other choice. Only if you can’t hear my heart anymore.”
“When human heart stop, not mean dead?”
I fall silent, the answer stuck in my throat.
Well-
“Grace, stupid,” Rocky says, when my silence answers him. “Rocky supposed to help before Grace dead. Don’t think. Stupid, stupid, stupid human. Dumb human.”
Rocky continues to insult me in other high-pitched notes in Eridian that I don’t fully understand. After more than three years, I no longer need a translator to understand the basic language Rock chooses to speak to me in, but when he’s angry or worried, he veers into complex tones that I can’t always follow. Rocky especially loves to go off the rails when he's chewing me out.
I sigh. “Alright, I get it! I get it! But you can’t put your life at risk for nothing, Rocky. You do realize you can die too, right?”
“Humans die more easily. Eridians more resistant. With concussion, you not think. Say things like Rocky should wait heart stop.”
“...Sometimes you can restart a human’s heart,” I argue weakly.
“Success rate, question?”
Again, I don’t answer.
Rocky lets out an annoyed hiss. “Should stop talking, if say stupidity. I stop gravity. Easier to bring you to Armando.”
That makes sense. I don’t think I can stand up without collapsing, and I’m exhausted just at the thought of making my way to the medical section. So Rocky disappears, and a few minutes later, the equipment in the lab and I start to float. So much for our project.
Over the three years we’ve been traveling, Rocky has had time to perfect his movement in zero gravity, when he’s in his xenonite ball rather than in his compartments and tunnels. So it’s with magnets -which move his ball using magnetic plates throughout the ship- that he moves around and comes to get me. I cling weakly to his pod, and together we head to the dormitory.
Armando tends to my head and gives me medication to ease my nausea and headache. For once, Rocky doesn’t tease me that it’ll make me stupid for the next few hours. Not this time. He tells me to stay lying down in my zero-G sleeping bag, and I don’t protest. He then magnetizes his spaceball to the wall next to me.
We remain silent for several minutes. I can feel Rocky’s anxiety radiating from him through the xenonite, and I don’t know exactly what to say to reassure him.
“How you revive heart?” Rocky finally asks, after a long moment.
I turn my head toward him. “Armando could take care of it, if it ever comes to that. But we can check that out when I’m up and running, yeah?”
Another silence hangs over us. Only the hum of Mary surround us for a long moment.
“Grace can’t die,” Rocky chimes so softly that I can barely hear him.
My heart sinks, and I turn slightly to gently place my hand on the xenonite of Rocky’s pod. Rocky automatically moves closer and presses himself against the wall, getting as close as possible to my touch.
Rocky was alone for 46 years. I don’t know exactly how long I’ll survive, but I have to live at least until we reach Erid, where his species will be able to comfort him, even if I die a few months later. I can’t die before then and leave him alone. I have to hold on until then.
“I’m not going to die on you anytime soon. I promise.”
-oOo-
I almost break my promise, barely two months after arriving on Erid.
When we arrived on Erid, I had to stay on Mary for roughly two full weeks while Rocky went to see his people. The Eridians first had to discuss whether they would agree to house an unknown alien (though Rocky had assured me it wouldn’t even be a question), build me a makeshift habitat, and start making arrangements to feed and treat me in the future.
I’m not going to lie; those two weeks spent all alone on the ship were tough. Rocky’s absence was like having a limb cut off, and I felt it every time I wandered around. Whenever I saw an empty spot where Rocky’s stuff would normally have been, my chest would tighten with melancholy and a strange kind of anxiety. And seeing the things that Rocky had left behind made me feel even worse.
He had brought a radio with him that, miraculously, was tuned to Mary’s frequency, but I tried to hide any sign in my voice that I missed him. Spending every moment of your day with the same person for four years would do that to you. It was probably normal.
Probably.
The Eridians welcomed me with a mixture of fear, curiosity, and sincere gratitude once it was safe for me to land on their planet. I didn’t meet many other Eridians -Rocky had limited the number who could see me, apparently, so as not to overwhelm me- but the few I interacted with treated me like a wild animal at first.
As the weeks went by, and as they got used to hearing and understanding English and watching me act, they clearly saw that I was just a goofy guy. My banter with Rocky must have cemented that impression.
They also saw that, unlike them, I was fragile.
Really fragile.
They noticed it fairly quickly when my physical condition worsened week by week. The Eridians hadn’t yet perfected edible food for me, and I had to continue feeding on Taumoeba. My body really couldn’t tolerate the solid food they were trying to give me.
It was the same situation just two days ago. And I already thought it was bad.
But then, I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my chest, and I remember just thinking, “Ah, shit,” when I realised my heart was giving out. I was weak and exhausted, and Erid’s strong gravity wasn’t doing my internal organs any favours. And as luck is not always on my side, of course I had a stupid heart attack.
I regained consciousness about twenty minutes ago. And I’m alive. Thankfully.
I’m lying on my elevated bed, and there’s Armando and other beeping machines around me, including one that seems to emit vibrations in time with my heartbeat. Tubes and catheters are inserted into my arm and wrist, and I have small pads on my chest connected to other wires that also make sounds. A slightly heavy nasal oxygen cannula is inserted into my nose (I don’t know what material they used, but it’s a bit heavier than plastic), but when I tried to remove it when I woke up, a series of high-pitched notes from the speakers in my habitat went haywire and rang out. So I paused and looked around to realize there was another presence in the room.
Rocky, in his flexible xenonite suit, is next to me on the bed, and he hasn’t said a word since I woke up, 20 minutes ago.
“Rock,” I murmur again.
He tilts his carapace slightly, acknowledging that he heard me, but still doesn’t speak.
I… shamelessly asked for a bigger bed when I first moved into my little temporary home (it was just awkward when Rocky wanted to sleep next to me and we weren’t at the same level, alright), and they gave it to me without any protest.
But it’s one of the few things I dared to ask for, because everyone on Erid is already bending over backward to meet my every need.
Hell, I’m still alive because ever since my fainting incident on the Hail Mary and our argument about whether or not he should come out of his ball if my heart was beating, Rocky has been obsessed with cardiac arrests. As soon as he landed on Erid, he made sure that equipment was invented to heal me in case I ever had a problem with my heart. And once again, the Eridians complied without a single protest.
I sigh and rest my nearest hand on my friend’s carapace. In response, Rocky shifts slightly toward me and gently places one of his limbs on my torso, his claws resting delicately on my chest, right over my heart, as if to make sure it’s still beating despite the sounds it must already make to Rocky.
This is the second time in barely a year that I’ve fallen ill. For someone who hates to do it, I’m surprisingly really good at making Rocky worry sick for me.
“I’m fine, buddy,” I reassure him gently.
“Savior Grace lie again,” I hear the notes of another voice further to my right.
I turn my head toward the voice and see another Eridian quietly approaching in a xenonite suit. It’s Dr. Ludmila.
Ludmila was the name of my neighbour on Earth, and she always carried a pink and brown bag with her. The colours of the newcomer doctor’s carapace are somewhat similar, so I didn’t have to look far to find a name for my regular caretaker.
Dr Ludmila, a notebook clasped in one of their claws, approaches my bed.
“Savior Grace always say he’s okay, and not worry about him,” Dr. Ludmila says in a strained and reproachful tone. “Savior Grace not say truth.”
Dr. Ludmila is upset, and perhaps with good reason.
I don’t normally say that everything is fine and that they can take their time synthesizing food for me. I’m slowly wasting away, so that would be counterproductive.
I just know that the team taking care of me is already working themselves to the bone to make food that my stomach can keep down. So I’m just… trying not to rush them even more. They can see me getting thinner day by day, they’re well aware of it.
They are using so many resources on me, so I wasn’t lying, I was just trying to be…positive.
“I will make sure to let you all know how I really feel from now on,” I say, yielding.
Dr. Ludmila huffs, displeased, but proceeds to ask me questions about my condition. I answer them obediently. Rocky doesn’t take his claws off my chest the whole time.
“Two more teams of researchers are assigned to find solution for hunger,” Dr. Ludmila says, once they seem satisfied with my awareness and condition despite my weakness. “They will have results by end of human week.”
Dr. Ludmila says this firmly, as if they were cosmically leaving the three teams no choice but to provide me with proper food by the end of the week. I simply nod.
“Other doctors come later to check on Savior Grace,” they finish.
I give them a small smile, and they make the respectful gesture that all Eridians seem to make in my presence, joining their front legs together and inclining forward slightly. They then leave without another word.
“Rock, I’ll be fine now,” I say, hoping I’m not lying yet again.
A moment passes before Rocky finally responds for the first time since I woke up. “Grace stupid fragile human.”
I smile faintly and close my eyes.
I’m extremely tired and have lingering body aches, especially in my chest. But I don’t make a move to get Rocky to take his claws away.
“Yeah…”
-oOo-
The world around me is pitch black, so I instinctively reach out my hands in front of me, blindly trying to avoid crashing into whatever obstacles might be nearby. I hear the sound of laughter all around me, and I wonder if I’m about to fall into a hole and the Eridians next to me are looking forward to the show.
“Can I take another step forward, or am I just going to make a fool of myself?” I ask.
“Grace can walk normally,” Rocky replies.
“Adrian?”
“Why need Adrian answer? I already said safe!”
“I trust Adrian way more than you for this.”
I can again hear the other Eridians around us laughing a little, and I smile faintly, whilst Rocky lets out a sound that sounds like a grumble.
I've been on Erid for a year now. I'm doing better. Mainly because I'm eating better. I don't know what Dr. Ludmila did to the research teams, but exactly six days after my heart attack a few months ago, the doctors and scientists introduced me to something edible, something my body was finally able to keep down.
Things got better from there on. My health gradually improved, and the doctors were relieved. I was almost happier to see all the Eridians around me rejoicing than I was about my own recovery. They had really worked hard for me.
Another thing they’ve gone out of their way to do for me is my new habitat. Apparently, It’s finished. Everyone wanted to surprise me with it, which is why I’m currently walking blindfolded through a long tunnel that’s been adapted to my human atmosphere.
I suddenly feel claws gently grasp my right arm. They pull it a little, and my fingers land on the surface of a xenonite suit.
“Grace can walk,” Adrian’s calm voice rings out to my right. “Hold on to me. No worries.”
I relax immediately and lean to Adrian’s large frame. “Alright.”
“Favoritism,” Rocky grumbles, even though I know he secretly loves it when I cling to his mate.
I remember that Rocky, before we arrived on Erid, had been a little worried that Adrian and I wouldn’t get along. I don’t see how that could have happened. At least not on my end. Adrian is a very tall, turquoise Eridian who’s the same height as me and has the exact opposite personality of their mate. They are really calm and collected, and we got along great right from the start. And we like to gang up on Rocky sometimes, much to the latter’s chagrin. He deserves it.
The other Eridians with us are playfully teasing Rocky, even though they also know that Rocky isn’t really serious. Adrian doesn’t join in on the teasing and just gently guides me toward our destination. And after what feels like an eternity, finally, we seem to be entering a building.
I am led through several places blindly. I pass through many areas filled with the sounds of doors opening and closing, as well as the hum of machinery, but Adrian places their claws reassuringly on my back when they sense I’m getting a little overwhelmed by the sounds. Then, after what feels like walking through one last small hallway, a door opens with a final whoosh, and Adrian finally removes my thick black blindfold.
I try to open my eyes, but immediately squint as the blinding light around me stings my pupils. I take a moment to blink, and I’m completely stunned when I realize what’s around me.
My mouth drops open in shock, unable to believe what I’m seeing. I’m on a beach, and a cloudy sky stretches out above our heads. Large rocks rise on the horizon and a little further down the beach, which seems to stretch for kilometers. I can even feel the wind on my skin. For a moment, I think I’m hallucinating, so unreal is the scene before me.
I must be dreaming. What-
“New habitat for Savior Grace!” exclaims one of the Eridians standing with us.
So I’m not dreaming. The Eridians really did build all of this for me. I don’t even feel like I’m inside a dome -the reflective panels that enclose the habitat perfectly simulate a sense of depth and distance. This is genius. This is too much-
“Oh my god,” I say, looking around, a painful twinge in my heart as I see this vivid reminder of Earth.
Besides Adrian and Rocky, six other Eridians, part of my former team of caretakers and some members of the new dome’s construction crew, are delighted by my reaction. They let out joyful notes and do their jazz hands while swaying on their legs.
I look up at the gray sky, my eyes starting to sting. I can’t believe it.
“Are you going to leak?” Rocky huffs.
“...Maybe,” I reply.
“Don’t eyeleak.”
“You know very well that the word is ‘cry.’”
Adrian -because Adrian is nice, unlike their mate- comes over to me and gently bumps their carapace against me as a sign of comfort. I sniffle and hug them from the side.
“Savior Grace like?” asks another Eridian among my companions, excitedly.
“Yes…” I say, wiping my eyes. The Eridians are now used to me ‘leaking’ from everywhere, and seem to recognize that this time it’s from joy. “Yes, I love it. This is incredible.”
Apart from Rocky and Adrian, the other Eridians aren’t very used to physical affection, but I pull everyone into a group hug anyway. They clumsily try to return the gesture all at once.
“Thank you,” I say, moved. “Really.”
There’s a house that was built completely opposite the dome’s entrance, near a tree sculpture. The team of doctors and builders decide not to accompany me, preferring to give me the privacy to visit my “nest” in complete intimacy with Rocky and Adrian. So we say goodbye, and Rocky, Adrian, and I go inside the house.
Once again, I’m speechless by the interior. The house is a single story, but it’s extremely spacious. I have a soundproof bathroom and kitchen with walls that block out sound for people in the other rooms. There is a living room with Armando set up right in the middle and a large lab/office already equipped with tools. And most importantly, I have a large bedroom that looks incredibly comfortable.
“How come the house is ten times more luxurious than what I had on Earth?” I say, almost disturbed.
“We searched for most beautiful homes for you,” Adrian replies calmly.
The interior of the dome had been a surprise, but the Eridians hadn’t exactly hidden the fact that they were building one for me. I just knew they were building something. They’d asked me to help them choose colors for my living space so they could combine them appropriately. I didn’t know it was to build such a luxurious home.
I walk over to the right-hand walls in my room. I made a special request for my living quarters: I asked for an enclosed xenonite space that would be large enough for Rocky and Adrian, if they wanted to sleep without their suits. I’m pleased to see the small room with transparent xenonite walls, divided into two sections. The smaller section is likely for acclimating one atmosphere to the other, and the larger space is for the ammonia-filled air. There’s a detector on the outside in case of a leak, but I’d have to be extremely unlucky, since there already seem to be three different layers of protective walls to prevent that kind of risk. I have a similar chamber in my lab.
Rocky, however, doesn’t seem interested in the xenonite room. He climbs onto the big bed in the middle of the room and seems to be testing the firmness of both sides of the mattress. On one side he sinks into it, but on the other, near the window, the mattress holds his weight quite firmly. I hadn’t requested this. Adrian’s team had been smart about it, knowing why I’d asked for a large bed.
There was a cozy, padded space on the other side of the bed. Adrian was too big to climb onto the bed, but if they wanted to sleep near me and Rocky in their suit, there was room for them.
“Come try the nest bed,” Rocky says.
I walk over and sit on the bed. It’s soft. My bed in my old habitat wasn’t uncomfortable, but this is going to be heaven.
Adrian slowly approaches the bed. “Good?”
“It’s perfect,” I smile at them. “You and your team really worked hard.”
“Everything Adrian do is always perfect!” Rocky praises.
Adrian lets out a brief, flattered sound before sitting down on their legs.
“Glad Beloved like it,” they say. “Accommodated home for us too.”
…since Rocky doesn’t spend much time in his own home.
Ever since my heart attack, Rocky has kept up the habit of watching me sleep every night, and he always needs to have his claws on my chest, as if to make sure my heart doesn’t stop while I’m in the world of dreams. I thought this habit would go away, but we still have to work on it.
Just like we also need to work on that strange anxiety that grips both of us when we don’t see each other for more than 24 hours. We’ll work on that, as well. Seriously.
Soon.
“You should spend way more time at home, Adrian, Rock,” I say, a little embarrassed.
“We do. Just not much. Rocky not ready yet,” Adrian says calmly.
“You have the patience of a saint, Adrian.”
Because they're really, really cool with the fact that their mate has been so hooked on an alien for the past year, to the point where they both have to spend half their day in a xenonite suit.
Adrian hums. “Just happy Rocky came back. And like Grace. Adrian can be patient.”
“I like you too,” I say, smiling. “And we’re working on this separation thing. Or, we will, right, Rocky?”
“...Yes,” Rocky replies, not very convincingly.
“Say same since 8 months. Grace Rocky are hopeless,” Adrian says, a hint of fondness in their voice.
I let out a slightly embarrassed chuckle, and Rocky sings adoringly to his mate, as if it was a good thing that Adrian was patient with them about this.
“We’re hopeless at a lot of things,” I say, amused. “But we’ll try anyway. And hey, if we don’t succeed, you’ll just have to be patient for another 35 years, and then Rocky will be all yours again.”
At first, I think the joke is funny. Because 35 years for a human is ridiculously long, but for an Eridian, it’s just a few years out of hundreds. But it’s still 35 years. So, amused, I expect one of them to respond to my remark to keep the lighthearted mood going.
But instead, a heavy, charged silence answers me.
I blink and look at the other two. Their bodies are facing turned toward me, but they don’t say a word. They didn’t find the joke funny.
I realize right then how the joke must have sounded to them. Thirty-five years is a long time for me, so that time feels far away in my mind. But for them, it must have been the equivalent of me joking that I'm going to die in a year or two.
I don’t know exactly what to say. “I… sorr-”
“Grace should stop talking,” Rocky interrupts me abruptly.
Adrian doesn’t say anything. So I know I’ve really ruined the mood.
Rocky taps firmly on the mattress next to him, no longer in such a good spirits.
“Come test nest bed.”
Three days later, I’m told that a team of scientists is coming to visit my dome.
My new home is awesome, so I’m glad other Eridians are coming to visit. But that’s not why they’re here right now.
They’re here to collect blood, skin, hair, and saliva samples.
“And what is it for?” I ask curiously, as the third tube of my blood is set aside.
Adrian and Rocky aren’t here. They’ve gone to meet with representatives from the planet to discuss future projects for their community. Neither of them warned me that I’d be getting this kind of visit.
Dr. Ludmila is among the scientists and doctors present. They turn their head toward me and don’t answer right away.
Then, almost in unison, the scientists close their bags containing my samples, and Dr. Ludmila says:
“To develop good vitamins.”