Work Text:
I roll over fitfully…again.
Rocky knows by now that I move around a lot in my sleep, but I think he can tell I’m awake. My ribs absolutely ache and there is no human-sized ice cube I can just lay on to get rid of the swelling.
The whole no internal bleeding is a bonus for sure, but everything still hurts.
Hurts a lot.
My poor body has been through so much I just wish my brain would let me rest without thinking every noise is an alarm starting up. Painkillers are off the table, I need to conserve ibuprofen, and there’s no ice packs big enough (as I’ve already stated). I’ve been lying on my stomach but it’s hard to find a good position to sleep in that way.
Pillows just can’t be used properly for it so there’s no neck support and you’re left with a head that weighs more than it should and if you turn to the side you wake up with a sore neck.
I roll to lay on my back which, judging from my instinctual grimacing and sucking in air through a clenched jaw, I’d say that option is also off the table. I drag the blanket from where it had been pushed at the end of my bed, and pull it up around me.
Rocky does not ‘look’ up from the Beetle and continues fiddling away with it. He gives me a small nod and carried on. I suppose he’s used to my chronic insomnia now.
I hoist myself upright and place my bare feet on the cool floor. Hunching over, I try to bear through the ache. I pull my hands to my chest despite the bruising being on my back.
“Why are you holding yourself like that, question? Skin healed and bandaged where there were abrasions, you still seem in pain.” He spoke softly.
I had told him that humans are more sensitive to sound if they are in silence for a prolonged period of time, like when I am trying to sleep. (It was an unfortunate event, him, trying to be considerate for my feeble human ears, shouted at me at 3am about some random discovery (I don’t remember what). I jumped in such shock that I practically flew out of my bunk, but landed harshly on the ground. To which he seemed mildly concerned… after laughing at me.) I, since then, have kindly informed him that despite a human’s capability of waking from sleep, we do not like nor do we appreciate it when unnecessary.
I thought about his question. Now how should I respond?
“Sometimes after an injury,” well, most times, “our bodies break blood vessels under our skin from the impact, the blood pools underneath our skin and forms bruises, as you know.” He nods understandingly, but waits for me to finish, “these bruises are tender areas, the nerves are sensitive and it aches, sometimes badly, sometimes it’s just a small problem.”
He stills at that.
“So human body fragile, question? Despite acts of strength and resilience I’ve observed with human form, question?” He looks sympathetic, but not in pity. He knows I hate it, but I do appreciate his concern.
“Yes. Adrenaline, like I mentioned, cancels out the pain until we are safe, bruises remind the brain that the body is still healing, so the hurt keeps us relatively immobile until the body is done healing.” I explain. It’s funny, I’ve had to explain bruises and cuts to my students before, or at least the science behind them, and now I’m teaching a similar lesson to my Eridian friend.
“Adrenaline… very useful until wears off.” He nods, committing the new fact to memory, he straightens his posture again before adding, “…so that is why you said ‘I will panic about it later’ after your adrenaline high a few hours ago.” I smile lightly at his connection and give a little thumbs up for his conclusion.
“Bingo.”
“Human biology amaze! Solves problems for near everything but still can’t always function properly!” I’m almost offended… but he’s not wrong.
I pull the blanket more securely around my bruised body and try to lift myself off the bed. All I get is a slight wobble from my sore muscles.
Getting up is going to be harder than I thought.
I feel chillier than usual.
I always feel colder after an EVA, I don’t quite understand why, I’ll have to include that in my list of complaints to Stratt.
I try to get up again.
“You just told me bruises were body’s way of telling you to be still for a while… why are you sitting up, question?”
“Because I want water and some food. I haven’t eaten since I threw up my lunch.” I feel at least 50 years older, is this is what it’s like getting old? I hate it.
(Good thing I probably won’t have to.)
“But food is normally from dormitory, here, question?”
“Yes, but I left out my meal in the lab because I wanted to heat it up later. I fell asleep.” After trying again, I, heroically, stand.
“But you are still injured! You should rest. Must heal before you can continue Earth Work.”
“Ideally I would,” I start my way down the hall, ”but I can’t sleep because it hurts to breathe and my stomach is growling. Also, I really don’t want to have the computer give me another IV line after only a few weeks.” I wince with my first step.
Damn, that high really wore off and took everything with it.
“And I’m not going to try and work, I need to sleep before I type up a paper or do tests on anything, if I want good results.” If you’re stupid tired, you accept that you’re stupid tired.
“Good. Good. I’ll go with you anyway though.” He take a single step to match up with my three hobbles. I hold on to the tunnels for balance. “Wouldn’t it be counterproductive if your body decides it’s safe before you actually are, question?” He asks me.
“Yes, that’s why humans normally travel and live in pairs or groups. We, for the most part, trust friends and family to take care of us if we can’t take care of ourselves.” Thanks to my subconscious, my eyes dart to where Yáo and Olesya would have been.
Rocky, unfortunately, notices this and makes a sad tone.
“Like Eridians. We trust each other to keep watch while we sleep. This is sad. Sad. Sad. But it’s ok, I can help now.” With my eyes to the floor, I give him a grin. He relaxes at that.
I pause. Wait a second, “So you mean to tell me as soon as you heal you don’t feel anymore pain?”
“You are correct.” Damn, now I’m jealous.
“Lucky.” I say under my breath. He giggles.
“Is ok. You can see sounds, so you are lucky in my terms. Amaze at that, eyes are incredible organs.” We finally made it to my laboratory.
I squint at the harsh lights and groan.
“But I am thankful that I am ‘blind’ sometimes.” He adds after observing my obvious discomfort.
I stick my dinner Meal Ration on my makeshift microwave, which is just a metal plate with glued on ‘legs’ over a Bunsen burner. I brew some decaf tea the same way.
“Be careful. Remember, stools are bolted to the ground.” He says right before I would have walked into one.
Despite not being able to get things and generally take care of me in the way a human would, he’s still helpful, regardless.
“Thanks.” I do a little back step and hop (ouch) up on the counter rather than sitting on the stool. I still have a grudge against it for ‘letting me’ fall off that one time.
Once I see a little plume of steam rising out of what looks to be a taco, I take it off the burner and place it on a sterilized clipboard I’ve been using as a plate.The water for my tea comes to a boil shortly after. I pour the water into a beaker and add a bag.
I listen to the sound and try to imagine I’m hearing a bubbling spring.
I miss Earth.
“You should ‘watch’ something. Requires little thinking and movement. You called it a ‘movie’ correct, question?” Rocky suggests.
“Yes, it is called a movie…sometimes,” I take a huge bite of the meal, “it depends on the length of the video.” I reply through a mouth full of spam taco.
“I know. A movie is good because it will last longer, so you won’t get up.” He replies directly. I guess it’s time to see if I have every movie in existence like I do music.
“Ok sure, are you in the mood to listen to something is particular?” It’s a shame he can’t watch it with me, but tells me that it doesn’t matter because he has work to do anyway.
“Something very Earth. Human. I’d like to learn something.” He motions for me to get up.
“Well, most movies are very human because humans weren’t sure if there were other species were really out here or not.” I mentally rule out Star Wars or Star Trek.
“Most stories from my home are very Eridian because we assumed we were all that existed.” Given the fact he lives under an ocean of an atmosphere and doesn’t have computers, I’d say that’s a perfectly reasonable assumption.
After all, humanity believed that we were alone for a long time.
“Fair, I’ll see what I have.” I begin my trek back to the dorm taco in hand.
I really don’t feel like getting back in the bed I’ve been tossing and turning in, not to mention how the sheets were probably damp with sweat because of it.
I hear Rocky stop walking a few moments after I pause.
“Grace, you ok question?”
“I have an idea.”
-
Much to Rocky’s protests at me exerting myself, I decided to get a bunch of blankets, sheets, and all the pillows on board to create the best pillow fort… ever.
Is it immature?
Maybe.
But I make the rules here remember?
Is it straining?
…Yes.
I hate that being thrown against an airlock door has caused me so much pain but if I avoid bending and leaning back too much I’m fine.
After I amass a pile of building materials and command strips, I begin construction of Fort Ryland and Rocky. “Is all this really necessary, question? You already have shelter. What is the point of this, question?”
“Oh don’t be a spoil sport.” I tease. I found a good spot for the peak of the fort, which was Rocky’s main ceiling bubble. I attached command strips to the clear xenonite and knotted the corners of the sheets around each hook. He studied me curiously.
“I said for you to rest and you build small house.” He mumbles. Sometimes I really do feel like he thinks of me as a kid. An old-ish kid who happens to be a member of an advanced alien race.
“Fun humans make things like this out of similar materials, pillows, sheets, blankets, etc. Even if there are blankets involved,” I throw a pillow on the ground in the corner of my fortress to keep the sheet extended out for maximum space, “we still call them ‘pillow forts’.”
I wince at the pain in my back but I continue, ignoring it.‘It’s just bruising, not burns,’ I tell myself.
“Why, question?” He presses, still unsatisfied.
Why do we make pillow forts? I’ve never had anyone ask why, but then again I haven’t made one since I hosted small sleepovers as a kid. And when you’re a kid you aren’t questioned by other kids if they see what you’re doing is fun and relatively harmless.
I suppose it’s, “because they are warmer inside due to the blankets acting as insulation, they become little shelters so it gives a sense of security, and lastly, they’re fun.” I add the finishing touches of my personal pillows and extra blankets.
Rocky sits at the top of the fort in his bubble and makes himself comfortable despite his confusion.
“I think that I understand.” He replies in a tone where I know he’s reading in more to my actions than my explanations. I seem to be a lot more exposed these days, with him always being able to read me so well.
I’ve never truly had a friend be able to understand me so well. It’s comforting.
I open my laptop as I sip my tea.
Yeah, this is nice.
Unlike the lab, the only light in here is the soft glow of my computer screen, and with the thick blankets the only noise is the full thrum of the ship.
I eat the last morsel of my taco, and feeling relieved, I begin to sort through the movies downloaded.
Now what’s a truly human genre?
Action normally highlights the more violent aspects of humanity, and it normally involves shooting, which Rocky would likely find disturbing to listen to.
No SciFi.
Fantasy is cool, but I’d probably have to explain the deeper perspectives of religion and mythology.
Comedy might not be that good to him if he doesn’t understand most references.
Romance is a no for now, I truly don’t want to explain intercourse.
I suppose that leaves a documentary.
What’s more human than the planet we live on…I guess?
With a bit of digging, I find the entirety of the Planet Earth documentary series and hit play on a random episode.
Rocky reappears in the fort with the Beatle in one of his five hands, “Have you found a long movie, question?”
“No,” he gives the Eridian approximation of a sigh, “but this is a really long video anyway. It’s just a part of a series.”
“You said long video equals movie, why do humans need so many words for the same things, question?” Good question honestly.
“Because we are extraordinarily decisive space blobs.” I reply without missing a beat.
“Sarcasm.” He points out, I swear I could almost hear all the sass of an eye roll in his tone.
“Oh be quiet. It’s starting.” If only I had popcorn.
“You are an annoying human.”
“Shush!”
I turn over to lay on my stomach and stack pillows up so I can cross my arms. I hear him say a quiet ‘no you’ but I choose not to comment.
The narrator begins his tale about the migration habits of monarch butterflies, which, being a biologist, I have learned about in the past, but Rocky was absolutely spellbound.
“Living things can fly in your atmosphere! Amaze!” He whispers, I turn my head back to him and give a small nod in confirmation.
I play at least 4 episodes, each centered around specific climates or climbing the food chain in a certain region as the episode progresses. We listen/watch how various storks eat different fish, different fish swim in different streams, bears and birds, bees pollinating, lions feed, antelope avoid being said food, trees giving shelter to more birds, etc. I find myself zoning out to the monotone English Narrator’s voice, but Rocky has put down his work entirely in favor of hanging onto every word.
“So much life, so many sounds, so many biomes, so many places, so much water and sand and dirt.” He sits awestruck. I’m sure if he had shown me a series about life on Erid I’d be just as captivated, “I want to go to Earth.”
“Yeah you should, it’s pretty great.” I shift in my pile of pillows.
Earth is Nice,
I miss the ocean and forests. The wispy, white puffy clouds, scattered on the horizon on a sunny day.
The tapping of rain falling on a rooftop,
the green of thriving vegetation,
bird songs (even if they are at 5am),
the sound of water running in rivers,
The sounds a crowd of people make in a busy cafe at noon.
“I’m sure you’ll go there one day.”
“I hope you can too.”
A silence falls on our conversation. I know what he’s thinking about just as I’m sure he knows what’s on my mind.
If.
If is a very big factor here.
If I can make it home.
If there’s a home to go back to.
If it is still anything like what this documentary has recorded.
This should make me upset, but if anything I just feel more determined.
I’m going to do everything in my power to make things right…
I look up to Rocky who is faced towards me already, as if getting ready to keep watch for when I eventually conk out for real.
I’ll set things straight…after my own bruises heal.
I pull more pillows to myself and snuggle into the blanket.
“I have a feeling you’d really like crabs.”