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Crying feels awful in the moment. My breath hitches and my head aches. I sob for all I'm worth. Which, granted, isn't very much. I press my hands so hard to my face it hurts. I don’t know why I hide my face. There’s no one here to judge me for my outburst, to point and laugh or give a pitying look. I would take pity, hell I would even take being laughed at if it meant there was another person in the room with me right now.
But there wasn't.
And I still curled up in the corner and buried my face in my knees like a child.
I think about laughing. And pointing. And meeting rooms with big tables and the scientists who sit at them. “A staggering waste of carbon.” and laughing, more laughing. Not with me but at me. When I left that conference room I was in a playground on a swingset with my feet barely touching the ground. I was in a classroom but not at the front, being laughed at not with. I feel wet grass on my knees through my jeans. A rose thorn pricks my finger. My glasses, snapped in half.
These are new memories. new memories of swingsets and boardrooms and ghosts and classrooms, of my parent’s graves and of deep disappointment. Of every person I've ever pushed away. Of the empty feeling and the echoing around me. I can’t take it anymore. I just can’t. I shakily lift myself off the floor. I need to do something.
***
I sit down hard at my improvised tunnel desk. A few things rattle but I have enough sense to keep a hold of my coffee cup. I set it down, it has the Hail Mary logo on one side. I turn it around.
“Hello Grace Friend.” The voice comes through the laptop and something settles in my chest. I hear scuttling from the darkness as Rocky comes into view. He must've heard me fidgeting and dragging my feet like a depressed Charlie Brown.
“Hey pal.” My voice is rough. I clear my throat and pretend to look at something on the computer.
“Rocky thought Grace was back on ship for “me time” Question?”
I had explained the concept to Rocky with a little difficulty. From what I've learned, Eridians are deeply communal people. Solitude was rare, and they didn't seem to mind that one bit. I think I'd go crazy, but I'm also on the more introverted end of the spectrum by human standards.
I’d told Rocky I needed “Me time” because that's what I thought I needed. My hands had started shaking trying to type out a new word we’d just learned, and Rocky’s robotic voice gained a sharp edge that it hadn’t had before.
I felt a little bad, leaving Rocky alone. But when I had explained the problem Rocky clicked and whistled in understanding. He was fascinated and a little shocked by this aspect of human behaviour, but respected it nonetheless. Figures, I make first contact with an intelligent alien lifeform and he’s the nicest one in the universe.
“Uh… I just--” I sigh, running a hand through my hair “I’m okay, just a little restless.”
“New word!” Rocky chirps excitedly. I can’t help but smile, turning to the laptop to input the word.
“Restless… uh… feeling like I can't sit still, or stay calm.” I say, Rocky hums.
“Understand, Rocky that way sometimes.”
“Yeah you seem like the type of guy whose brain is always going a mile a minute.”
He tilts his carapace at the human idiom.
“Yes, is big problem for Rocky.” He sings, clicking his claws together. It’s almost identical to the way I fidget with my hands. I should tell him that. he's become obsessed with finding similarities between us, and I can't say it doesn't excite me either.
“Is problem for Grace also, question?”
I huff a little humorless laugh.
“Yeah. Big problem.”
Rocky tilts his carapace again, he's not unlike a dog in that way. But I doubt he’d welcome the comparison. I’d also have to explain to him what a dog is, and their place in human society, and I don't think I have the bandwidth for that right now.
He’s asked me a question. I don’t hear it, too busy thinking about dogs, but I hear him tap his claw twice on the ground, what I've gleaned as a show of curiosity, like the upward turn in a human’s voice when they ask a question.
“What was that, sorry?”
“Rocky ask if Grace okay. Seem scared…” he makes a warbling sound that the computer doesn't recognise, stops and tries again. “Quiet scared.”
“Scared? I’m not--” and then i think about the phrasing, quiet scared, and I realise we haven't made a distinction between fear and anxiety. Humans have so many words for the same emotion but slightly to the left. I’ve tried to simplify it for Rocky, the way he’s simplified his speech for me. So, in the end, scared is all he has to describe the way my body shakes and the speed at which my heart beats while there’s no apparent danger in sight.
“I--” I consider lying to him, telling him that I'm fine. But there's another part of me, tugging on my shirt sleeve and saying “Isn’t it nice to talk about your feelings?” The little voice is very persuasive, it sounds oddly like my ex-girlfriend. I turn to Rocky, folding my legs one over the other on the desk. Attempting to look nonchalant.
“I guess I just-- I thought I--” I groan and rub at my face, pushing my glasses into my hair. “I felt a little lonely.” Nonchalance failed. There are tears pricking at my eyes.
“Is that not desired effect of me time, question?” Rocky asks. I wipe roughly at my eyes.
“Uhh… yeah I thought that was what I needed but that wasn't the case apparently.”
“Humans unable to identify own needs, question? Inefficient.”
I really laugh at that, and he copies me, chirping like a little bird. He’d probably enjoy that comparison. I’d like to tell him about birds.
“You hit the nail on the head pal. Very inefficient. It’s just, feelings y’know? We talked about emotions, overlapping, contradicting. Me time is a feelings based thing and… feelings are confusing.”
Rocky tippy taps on the xenonite floor.
“Understand, similar, similar.” he sings “Rocky feel many emotions during time alone on ship. All mixed up. Not good. Bad bad bad.”
“Yeah, bad, bad, bad.” I say. I take my glasses off and clean them on my shirt, avoiding Rocky’s eyeless gaze. His carapace rises a little in.
“Grace feel lonely and come looking for Rocky, question? Grace spend time with Rocky, question?” he sings, something smug in his tune.
My face heats up and I laugh a little awkwardly.
“Maybe. Sorry if you were busy i-- I don't want to bother you or anything.”
Rocky taps his feet again, he seems… frustrated? Excited? Maybe it just means lots of feelings.
“Not bother. Not bother at all! Rocky like Grace company!” he trills. I’m smiling despite my self pity. My face hurts a little. “Grace spend time, make both feel less lonely.” he does that twirling motion, claw over claw. Us.
I push myself up from the chair and walk over to the barrier. I bring my coffee, my laptop, and my quilt with me. I set up shop in the little alcove he built especially for me.
“I like your company too, Rocky.” I say, curling up against the xenonite.
“Happy, happy, happy” He sings. Under the robotic voice his song is beautiful, lilting, and warm.