Work Text:
Tap, tap, tap.
"What are you doing, bud?"
In the silence of the Hail Mary, Rocky's tapping, muffled even by his xenonite ball, echoes through the hull, bouncing off of metal and plastic and lab equipment that's way too expensive.
Tap, tap, ta-tap, tap.
"Rocky?"
I lift my eyes from the microscope, looking for the hamster ball that contained the Eridian, and find it swaying around, Rocky spinning around in small circles. It reminds me just a little bit of a dog trying to look for somewhere to take a leak — and I guess the laugh spills out of me, because Rocky stops all of a sudden.
"Grace laughing," he says.
While the computer translates him with a neutral tone, the swell of music that accompanies it is almost accusatory.
"I'm not laughing."
"Grace lie. Rocky hear vibrations in chest."
Fudge, really? He can hear all that?
"What so funny, question?"
Well, I couldn't just tell him I thought he looked like a dog, right? Even if it was cute, that would probably be pretty offensive — wait.
Did Eridians even have pets?
"Rocky, do you know what a pet is?"
Rocky lifts his carapace slightly, against the xenonite barrier. When I blink at him, he nudges against it.
"No, no," I correct, "not petting, verb. A pet. It's a noun."
"What is that, question?"
I don't miss how Rocky quickly lowers himself like he's embarrassed. It's… oddly charming.
"Like…" I struggle for the words. "Like… a domesticated animal…?"
"Ohhh."
It's drawn out.
" ♪♩🎵♪."
I scramble for my computer to put the word in.
"Human language confusing. Why same word for two things?" Rocky taps the ball slightly. "Eridian simple."
I decide not to tell Rocky about the fact that there are some words that are contradictory, but are spelled and read the same way. Or the fact that there are any words that are spelled exactly the same at all, actually. English is hard enough as it is.
"Uh huh," I say. "You're right."
"Grace not argue this time." Damn, he's observant. "Grace think human language difficult?"
"Well, sure."
I guess we were having this conversation now. I shift, sitting down on the floor, and Rocky rolls over, until the xenonite barrier is pressed against my thigh. Out of habit, I reach up, resting my arm on the ball, leaning my body against it.
"Grace so close, can hear everything, disgust."
"You're the one who rolled up to me, so you have to deal with it."
"Disgust disgust disgust."
"You're disgust disgust disgust."
"Rocky beautiful."
"Is that right?"
"Rocky considered attractive by most Eridians."
"Uh huh."
Rocky taps insistently against the xenonite ball.
"Grace distract. Tell Rocky about human language."
"Right."
Slow, I trace a few shapes on the xenonite, thinking about how to begin with this.
"So you know the word 'read', right."
"Yes. To consume knowledge."
"Great! There's also 'read', pronounced like the color red."
"…"
"That means, uh…past tense…"
Look.
I wasn't an English teacher for a reason.
"Like you have already consumed the knowledge."
"…"
"But it's, uh, spelled the same way…"
"…"
"…Rocky?"
"Confuse."
"I haven't even gotten into how the way we call people from different countries differs, yet."
"Grace lie. Human language not this confusing."
"So people from America are 'American', right. And people from, uh, Korea are Korean. But people from Canada are Canadian."
"Grace lie to Rocky, this cannot — "
"And then people from China are Chinese."
"…"
If Rocky had a face, I imagine it'd be staring up at me with abject horror. His carapace is tilted at me, at the far end of the ball, as if trying to escape. I respected the fact that he at least didn't move the ball away, or I probably would've fallen flat on my face.
"Human language disgust."
"This is just English, some of the other languages are a little simpler."
"Grace know how many language, question?"
"Uhhh."
I rubbed the back of my neck. Honestly, I wasn't sure — for all I knew, the person I used to be could have been a polyglot. What I did know, however, was that I knew English, I couldn't read Chinese or Russian, and I definitely didn't teach any languages, so…
"I guess we're looking at around 2? English and a little bit of Eridian."
It was getting easier to recognise some of the tones Rocky produced without needing the translator, though it was still easier with it. Part of me figured I'd have a lot of time to figure it out, though.
"Eridian much better than ♪♩♩♪♪."
I figure that means 'English'.
"If it's so good, you should teach me some."
"Grace not able to produce the sound."
"It's not like you can speak English, either. Teach me some words."
Rocky approaches, his feet tapping against the floor, and whistles a soft little tune. It's melodic, pretty — it's almost like a lullaby. It's longer than I expect a singular word to be — maybe it's a phrase? And I think, in the ends of it, I hear the little tune that makes up my name. The translator remains quiet — guess it's something we haven't addressed yet.
"What did that mean?"
"Need word."
"Yep."
"…Important thing. Special."
"Ah, hm…"
Special, important thing. Since it's a thing, not a person, it's not something like 'beloved', so…
"How about treasure?"
Rocky repeats a part of the phrase, and I reach out for the computer to note it down.
"Pretty sure that's only part of it, bud. What's the rest?"
Rocky scuttles — something I notice him do occasionally, when he's feeling a bit out of sorts. I tilt my head at him, tapping the lower part of my laptop in a slow little rhythm, until he lifts his carapace up, like he's "looking" at me.
"Word for more than 'important'."
"Important's pretty much the highest option, uh, 'can't live without'?"
"That's three words."
"Look, you're kinda pushing it with 'more than important'."
"Grace define."
"Basically, if it wasn't around, you'd die. Like oxygen for humans. Ah, essential!"
Rocky repeats the phrase, and as I move to enter it in the laptop, I pause. Uh, I had given him two options…whatever, let's go with the more romantic one. Three words for one, like a buy one get one free sale.
"Okay, so we've got 'can't live without treasure'."
Hang on a second, if my name was at the end of this —
My eyes snap to Rocky, who seemed to have at least noticed something was up, because he'd gone back to pacing around in a circle again, the tap-tap-tap of his feet against the ball growing slightly more frantic, like he can tell I'm looking at him. (I wouldn't put that against him, honestly, since he can basically hear everything.)
"Grace heart pumping blood faster." he says. "Grace alright, question?"
Come to think of it, my chest did feel a little tight. I can feel my pulse in my ears, my face growing warmer.
"Grace continue translate sentence, question?"
"Oh, there's — ahem, there's more. Right."
No, I was probably overthinking this. After all, calling your best friend a 'treasure you couldn't live without' seemed pretty feasible to me, too. That's probably what Rocky's trying to say — in which case, I feel the same way! Rocky's my best friend. My only company for all this time I've spent on the ship.
My source of salvation. The reason I can save Earth. The reason I can go home.
My hope.
"Grace?"
The ball bumps against my thigh.
"Grace heart even faster. Grace?"
No, no. This sort of thing — this sort of thing shouldn't happen so quickly, shouldn't it? The way that my chest tightens up even more at the idea of it, at the idea of Rocky, and I — surely it was just space madness, I didn't — surely, I —
"Grace?! Grace answer?!"
I let out the breath of air I hadn't realised I was holding, and Rocky startles like a cat, one of his claws pushing the ball against my body again and again.
"Grace?! Grace, what happened question?"
I was being delusional. Rocky had a mate, for Christ's sake.
"Nothing, Rock, just got a little distracted. Let's finish up translating what you were saying."
Rocky keeps his claw almost on my thigh, his carapace tilted up towards me.
"Word for treasure person."
"How 'treasure' are we talking?"
"Not understand."
"Like, someone you want to see every day, or someone you can't live without, or someone you care for, or someone you're related to, uh…"
"First three."
All of them?
"Then beloved," I decide.
With that word put in, Rocky repeats the lullaby, and the computer speaks.
"Can't live without, treasure, beloved Grace."
Ah.
I could feel my entire body heating up, and I didn't need Rocky's impressive Eridian hearing to know that my face was getting redder and redder. He could probably hear the blood vessels swelling, or whatever it is they do to make someone blush.
"Grace leaky."
Was I? I lift a hand to my face, and sure enough, there's wetness on my cheeks. Huh!
... I suppose it makes sense, though. Being stuck out here, in space, barely remembering who I am, chasing a solution for a problem that could very well kill the Earth, and meeting an alien who was facing the same problem — and for that alien to call me treasure, beloved —
"Yeah, Rock. I feel the same way about you."
Rocky trills, a pretty sound, as he bumps closer into me.
"Grace hug."
"Oh, yeah? You want the leaky alien to hug you while he's leaking everywhere?"
"Is not for Rocky."
Can't argue with that. I wrap my arms around the ball, smushing my face into the panel, and Rocky reaches up to press his carapace against it. I can almost feel the warmth of his body against my cheek.
"Rocky ♩🎵♪🎵 Grace."
I didn't need a translator for that one.
Space was confusing, and vast, and dark, and more than all of that, pretty fudging lonely.
I'd probably need some extra time to process all the new feelings in my chest when it came to my Eridian friend (?), but one thing was for sure:
"I love you too, Rocky."
(And maybe that's enough!)