Chapter Text
Rocky presumed the two other members of Grace’s species on the human ship were adults—probably his parents, or at least they hoped. Why else would one shoot a pebble off into space? Rocky wondered how old they were when they died. Grace didn’t like to talk about it. About them. Rocky didn’t know—and at this point, didn’t particularly want to ask. They were certain it would only make them angrier, and it was an anger they’d set aside long ago in favor of caring for said pebble.
The decompression lock hisses as the corrosive oxygen mixes into the normal air. There is always a moment of panic when it does. Only one way to test if a xenonite suit is still good, Rocky thinks dryly, nonetheless happy to hear the doors slide away and reveal Grace’s habitat.
Inside the biodome, the waves lap lazily at the shore of the beach. It’s a sound Rocky has come to associate exclusively with his alien pebble. Often they’ve wondered how strange of a place Earth must be, covered in water and filled with deadly gases. They’ve seen images of it on the Hail Mary. It suits Grace’s species just fine, though, which is a marvel of evolution in and of itself, they think.
Adrian nudges their suit lightly. “Ready, question?”
Rocky shakes their carapace in wordless affirmation. “As ever,” they add after a moment. They don’t know why they feel so nervous about this suddenly.
The two of them traverse the habitat, familiar enough with it now, having spent so many months here. Partly, its design is Rocky’s. As the only one familiar enough with Grace’s species to make such decisions, the thrum of scientists, engineers, architects, and xenobiologists who all studied and cared for the alien saw Rocky as not only a saviour of Erid, but also as the leading expert on all things human. Rocky was also the only one able to make major medical decisions for Grace, which felt like a big responsibility—somehow more so than saving two planets.
“You seem tense,” Adrian says, halfway to the human ‘house’ they’ve set up for Grace.
They’re being silly. They’re already Grace’s caretaker in every sense of the word. “I know,” Rocky replies. “I suppose I am. It’s just been—a lot.”
Adrian hums. “The science thrum were just being stubborn. They’re mad they don’t get unlimited access to Pebble Grace. You stepped in at the right time.”
Rocky is sure Adrian is right, but they’re exhausted from the past few days and everything is weighing heavily on their carapace right now. It feels like all they’ve been doing is arguing and convincing the rest of Erid that Grace isn’t a science experiment but a child who needs proper care and treatment. Plus it’s been three full days since Grace laid eyes on either Rocky or Adrian, which Rocky is positive will have left him in a distressed state. They’ve been attached at the hip since they met. Rocky has become Grace’s parent, despite his insistence that ‘I’m thirty-six, Rocky, I am fully grown!’ in the way pebbles often insist they are capable of taking on the universe alone. Rocky feels horrible to have left the little pebble in the company of caretakers whilst they and Adrian have been negotiating with the various thrums.
“Grace will be upset with me for leaving him,” they say. “Should not have left pebble with caretaker for so long.”
Adrian shakes in disagreement, their claws pumping through the sand as they traverse toward Grace’s house. “Nothing could be done. Rocky needed at thrum. Rocky needed to advocate for human. Grace will understand, he is smart pebble.”
Maybe too smart, Rocky thinks privately, wishing this was all unnecessary. If Grace had been a little less smart, maybe his species would not have sent him into space in the first place, but there is no point wishing on stars. Grace is here. Rocky is here. And all of Erid owes them their lives—so all of Erid will listen to Rocky when they say no to the science thrum poking and prodding Grace like he’s—well, an alien.
Finally, at long last, they make it to Grace’s house. Caretaker ♫𝅘𝅥𝅗𝅥♫𝅘𝅥♫𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅯 is watching over Grace today, one of three permitted Eridians on a cyclical rotation that watch over the alien pebble both inside the habitat and through the viewing sphere, where they are undetectable to Grace.
“Don’t be so nervous,” Adrian says gently, though there’s a bit of an edge in there that reads exasperated. “Pebble already loves you. Grace will accept the idea of cluster member Rocky.”
Again, Rocky knows Adrian is probably right, but they’re getting kind of sick of Adrian being right, so they don’t say anything in return. Instead, Rocky huffs, straightens themself, and pushes open the door to Grace’s house.
It’s clean, as always. Everything stowed neatly. That’s not so much Grace, but rather the caretakers. Rocky knows Grace, if left to his own devices, is a messy little pebble.
Caretaker ♫𝅘𝅥𝅗𝅥♫𝅘𝅥♫𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅯 is nowhere to be seen.
Rocky steps inside the house, little claws clacking against the floor, Adrian following right after, and scans the place for life.
They’re quick to find it. Rocky startles at the medics by Grace’s human nest, accompanied by Caretaker ♫𝅘𝅥𝅗𝅥♫𝅘𝅥♫𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅯, who is speaking too fast for Rocky to understand, let alone Grace.
And in the middle of it all, curled up on his side with his light perceivers slammed closed, looking pallid and sick is Rocky’s pebble, Grace.
Rocky would later argue their following freak-out was warranted.
Oh my. What in the name of Erid—? “Grace!”
For one brief second, Grace’s light perceivers pop open, long enough for Grace to identify Rocky apparently, because the proceeding whine is tainted with enough Erdian to know Grace is calling for Rocky specifically.
Rocky’s hearts nearly break.
They’re quick to rush to Grace’s nest-side, uncaring of the medics or caretaker who get brusquely brushed aside.
Rocky almost has to remember not to rush through the words. “Grace, what wrong, question? Hurt, question? Where hurt, question?” Rocky feels like their Human Speech is clumsier than it used to be, they used to speak it with Grace more often, but since arriving on Erid, the reverse seems to have taken place. Grace is trying hard to learn Eridian. It’s adorable.
Grace groans, which sets off another rapid-fire round of questioning from Adrian.
Grace blows out air from between his teeth. “|//|||,” he whispers.
Rocky wraps a little xenonite encased claw around their pebble’s limb. “Rocky know not this word. Understand.”
Grace shudders, curling up even tighter. “Head hurt,” he whispers. “Loud loud loud.”
Rocky desperately hopes Grace hasn’t gone out and cracked himself open somewhere, playing in the water or along the shoreline. They’re quick to dismiss the idea of an injury from another pebble—the zoology team often organizes class-trips for young pebbles to interact with Grace. Grace likes to think of it as ‘teaching’ which, in a round-about sense, Rocky supposes it is, though in truth they’re just glad for Grace to spend time with pebbles his own age. Rocky permits the class-visits for this reason alone. Grace gets to be a kid, for once.
With this new information from Grace, Rocky turns to the medics. “Grace says head hurts, why, question?” It’s direct and full of anger. The medics themselves look taken aback. Adrian places a steadying claw on Rocky’s carapace, which does little to stem the flood of rage, but does at least ground them.
For a moment, neither medic speaks. Then, the taller of the two, 𝅘𝅥𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅮♫𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅯♫𝅘𝅥, or Opal, as Grace has affectionately named them in his own human language, shifts from one claw to another. “Alien pebble would not leave nest at pre-established time. Caretaker ♫𝅘𝅥𝅗𝅥♫𝅘𝅥♫𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅯 watched pebble sleep, but when pebble woke complained of sore carapace. Medics arrived to conduct examination. Alien pebble would not submit to blood-draw. Further intervention yet to occur.”
Rocky feels a shudder run through them, a mix of emotions swirling. Anger, yes, but some strange sort of irritation too. Still— “Medics do NOT draw Grace’s blood without Rocky’s consent. Clear, question?” Both medics shrink a little. Rocky is mad, and they know it.
But the whispered word from over in the nest cuts through the next slew of criticisms Rocky is lining up.
“Rock.”
Rocky’s attention shifts instantly. They leave the medics and the caretaker with Adrian and hurry back to their pebble’s bedside. “Grace called, question?” They reach over and place their claw back over Grace’s exposed limb. They hope it is comforting for the pebble. “Grace injured, question?”
Rocky feels some relief when Grace smiles at them, though it is quick to turn into a grimace. “Not injured,” Grace says, barely above a whisper, light perceptors remaining closed as he speaks. “|//||| happens. Rarely, but happens. Should be okay in a few hours. My |//||| don’t usually last long, thankfully.”
Rocky hums, disquietened. Even if the medics don’t know what is wrong with Grace, at least the pebble himself seems to have an idea. “What Grace need, question?”
Grace buries half his face in the pillow. “Quiet,” he says. “Dark. Sleep.”
Sleep.
“Rocky will watch.”
Grace doesn’t say anything to that. He doesn’t have to.
Adrian ushers the caretaker and medics out at Rocky’s insistence, then joins Rocky by their pebble’s bedside. Grace curls up even tighter, pain radiating from him. Rocky feels powerless. Adrian rests a limb on their own, a patient touch.
It isn’t all that long before Grace dozes off, the tension slowly slumping out of his body. Rocky gets up from his watching at one point to brush the strands of hair—(a strange, weird, pointless part of Grace that he finds fascinating)—away from the pebble’s forehead.
“Our pebble is so very cute,” Adrian says at some point, to which Rocky hums their agreement.
Grace rolls over in his sleep, a very human maneuver that the xenobiology thrum has expressed interest in studying. “I just wish we were able to help him more,” Rocky replies, dejectedly. “He’s—so young, Adrian. So smart and so skilled for such a young pebble, maybe even the brightest pebble among his species, but. But they still sent him into space to die. Not enough food. They were going to sacrifice him.”
Adrian listens quietly. And something in Rocky punches through from the inside of their carapace at the patience being offered them. Flood gates open.
“I want to give him the best life. Grace saved Erid. Saved Earth. And based on the expected lifespan of his species, he will likely die in less than 234 years. I just want to give him everything, while I can.”
“I know,” says Adrian, knocking their carapaces together—or as close together as one can get in a xenonite suit. “I do too. Because Grace did all that, but also one more thing.”
Rocky shifts, confused. “What?”
There’s something faintly amused, but deeply loving in Adrian’s tone when they speak again. “Grace brought you back to me.”
Oh, the maudlin fool.
Rocky hums very quietly, vibrating with love. “Yes,” they agree. “He did.”
Over the next few hours, Rocky notes with relief that the wrinkles of pain on Grace’s face begin to smooth out. The medics are probably monitoring the situation from the viewing sphere, but Rocky does not mind so long as they’re not in the room. Hopefully they’ll be able to devise a cure for whatever ‘|//|||’ actually is, so it does not happen again. My little pebble suffers so much, Rocky thinks sadly as Grace’s sleeping patterns change for the eighteenth time, his closed light perceivers rapidly darting side to side. Then, my pebble must be dreaming. They wonder what Grace dreams about. Maybe the Hail Mary. Maybe his deceased parents. Maybe Earth.
After several hours of silence and careful observation, Adrian detects Grace’s change in movement. Their alien pebble is waking up.
“Grace awake, question?” Rocky stands and stretches their limbs.
Grace moans again, but this time there’s less pain behind the sound. “Mhm,” he sighs, sounding put-out and pouty about it. Cute, thinks Rocky.
“Hungry, question?” Adrian pipes up.
Grace yawns. “Yeah,” he replies after a beat. “I guess I am a little bit hungry.”
Grace has a kitchen and certainly knows his way around it, but Rocky is still nonetheless glad for the zoology team, who provide regular cooked meals for the pebble, as well as enrichment items on the odd occasion, when Grace starts to look the slightest bit despondent or bored.
“I will request ‘pancakes’ for you,” Adrian says, reaching for the inter-comm that connects to the viewing sphere. Grace doesn’t exactly know where it goes, but he’ll use it occasionally to request things, which always gets the zoology team far too excited. Pancakes have been his most frequent request, a food easily enough replicated with the materializers. It’s Grace’s favorite.
Rocky moves to sit on Grace’s carapace. “Grace in pain, question?”
The alien pebble lifts a limb and shakes it side to side. “So-so,” he replies. Rocky files the motion away for later. “I feel a little better. The nap helped.”
“Is good, statement.”
Grace rests a limb on top of Rocky’s xenonite suit with a smile. “You always take such good care of me.” It sounds like there’s a hint of laughter in the tone, but Rocky preens anyway.
“Of course. Rocky is best caretaker to pebble,” they reply, sitting tall. Then, Rocky remembers exactly why it is they and Adrian came to the biodome in the first place today.
The nervousness comes back full force.
Grace snorts. “I’m not a pebble, Rock.”
“Disagree.”
Grace sighs. “Okay, sure, whatever. Whatever floats your boat.”
Rocky does not understand. “Rocky does not own boat. Boat go over water. Water kill Eridians.” Why would Grace think they would ever engage in such a dangerous exercise? —and then Rocky remembers the extremely dangerous space-walk Grace undertook and throws that thought out the window. Pebble’s levels of risk-evaluation are terrible.
Grace grunts, though out of exasperation, rather than pain, Rocky thinks. He flaps a hand. “It’s just a human saying, Rocky.”
Rocky hums in return. “Rocky not like this human saying. Is bad.”
Grace shrugs. “Fine,” he says, then, “But can you move please? I need to get up.”
Rocky complies, checking in with Adrian briefly about the status of the pancakes while Grace shuffles over to the bathroom to take care of his human ‘business.’
“Are you ready to ask Grace?” Adrian asks after greeting one very young and excited member of the zoology team at the door, tasked with delivering the pancakes. They peer over Adrian’s shoulder, clearly hoping for a glimpse of Grace, which annoys Rocky a little bit. They have a viewing sphere, why can they not just watch from there? But Rocky understands, too. Grace is a very interesting alien pebble.
They still for a moment. “I guess I am as ready as I will ever be,” they say, listening to the water tap close in the other room.
Adrian shakes with approval. “Good,” they acknowledge. “Then let us ask our pebble if he’s willing to be ours officially.”