Chapter Text
- pproximately Twenty-Five Minutes Away. Reroute?
The robotic voice of the Hail Mary ship draws Grace from his stupor. He sits up immediately, looking around at the sonars attached to the cockpit walls. There’s no way they’re already reaching Erid. That would be physically impossible, even at their speed. Last he checked, they still had at least two years left of their journey. “What? Mary, can you repeat that?” Grace asks, sliding his chair to the left and examining the screen he first saw Blimp-A on.
Alert: Distress Signal Received, Approaching Location. Approximately Twenty-Four Minutes Away. Reroute?
Sure enough, a little left of their current trajectory, a small blinking red dot appears.
“Uh.” Grace blinks. “Rock? Can you come to the cockpit?”
As the distant thumping of his partner’s steps grows louder, so too does his musical voice. “Grace, question? What is problem, question?”
“Mary, repeat one more time for me.”
Alert: Distress Signal Received, Approaching Location. Approximately Twenty-Two Minutes Away. Reroute?
Grace turns to Rocky, eyes wide. “What’s that about?”
Rocky appears to shiver, his front legs stomping on the ground once. “Grace ask dumb question. Grace not know distress word.”
“I- I know what distress signal means. But who’s sending it, and should we help?” It sounds awful when it leaves his mouth. Of course, they should help, but do they have the resources to? And what could possibly be out there in need of aid? Why do they need it? If it’s more than one person or thing, they probably won’t even be able to provide enough food for them to be of any real assistance.
“Distress from ship question?”
Grace slides over to another screen. After running a few brief and otherwise unhelpful calculations, he shakes his head. “It’s some kind of… planet, maybe?”
Rocky clambers over as well, holding up his crystal device to read the screen. “Rocky hear of this on Blimp-A, used to be moon, now alone.”
“But there’s someone on it now.”
“Looks like yes.”
Grace gives Rocky a look, hesitating before he asks his next question. “So… do we try to save them?”
The alien thinks for several moments, then taps his feet on the ground in succession. “Rocky die alone without Grace. Stranger die alone without Grace.”
Grace puts a hand on Rocky’s ball, smiling. “Yeah. You’re right, bud. Mary, reroute. How close are we?”
Approximately Fifteen Minutes Away.
“I guess get yourself prepared to orbit.”
—
This moon-structure-thing fortunately has an almost identical gravity to Earth, so the Hail Mary ship is already equipped to enter its atmosphere. As they descend, slowly easing off the throttle to avoid a crash landing anywhere, Grace and Rocky run diagnostics.
“Small issue—big issue—no land.”
“What do you mean there’s no land?”
“Rocky say what Rocky see. All liquid. All… Grace, question?”
Grace crosses the lab, leaning over Rocky to hopefully see what he does. “What is it, bud?”
“No, no, no, the liquid is like Grace statement.”
“Like me?”
“Grace blood. Primary H2O, other which make human, sodium, calcium, potassium, chloride, dissolved O2.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Rocky know, Rocky confuse.”
Grace steps back, lifting a hand to his forehead. Rocky’s correct, as he usually is. There are no solids on the structure’s surface whatsoever. It’s all composed of materials exactly like Human Blood. Globulins, fibrinogen, albumins. Minerals specific to the human body, except it’s everywhere. He runs another scan of the surface, hoping to dive deeper, but the only structures are meters down and composed of clots rather than any finite materials.
Grace sits down, running a hand over his face. “I knew space was weird,” he tells himself.
Rocky suddenly makes a strange combination of clicking and whirring noises as he spins in a small circle. “Rocky find! Rocky find! Structure of Earth Metal!”
Immediately, he’s hovering over Rocky again. “Where?”
“Fifty meters below liquid surface, rising upward.”
“Is that where the distress call came from?”
“Looks like yes.”
Grace clicks along on his own computer, examining the information scrawling across the screen. “It looks like it’s rising up on some sort of… blood clot, for lack of a better phrase.” He still shakes his head, scrunching his nose. “Ew. But how do we get to it?”
Rocky pauses. “Rocky does not know.”
Suddenly, Grace gets an idea. He grins. “Hey, we still have that chain right?”
Rocky shifts back and forth, tapping rapidly. “Would not get rid of. Took Rocky looong time, maany resource, maaany hours. Why Grace ask, question?”
“What if we go fishing again?”
Rocky immediately skitters around, shaking. “No! No, no, no! Grace almost die, no fishing, BAD fishing! Rocky hates fishing!”
“No- Bud, listen- The atmosphere is stable here. If we meet whatever the metal thing is at the top, I can climb down in my suit, and you can pull me back up.” He has to almost shout over Rocky’s rapid cacophony of noises, but eventually he calms enough to listen.
“Yes… that work,” Rocky says hesitantly. “Rocky not happy, but it work.”
Grace sits down next to him, bumping his leg with his arm. “I’ll be okay. And I give you full permission to get us out if things start looking bad.”
Rocky settles down next to him, tipping over to lie partially on his arm. “Grace important to Rocky, and Grace brave. Sometimes these conflict.”
“I know, bud.” Grace leans on him, smiling a little. “I’m sorry it freaks you out.”
“Yes, freaks out, that is what it does. Human language is strange.”
—
They calculate the exact moment when the structure will surface, and Grace knows he needs to get in and out fast. There’s almost no room for error. Both Rocky and Grace agreed he shouldn’t spend precious time fumbling with whatever opening the structure might have.
Which is exactly why he’s bringing a super-strength blowtorch to melt through the metal and hopefully get inside before it starts sinking again.
Grace is clinging onto the chain like it's the only thing between himself and death—oh right, it kind of is—and he’s watching the surface of the ocean of blood beneath him. He slowly grows closer and closer, watching, waiting, when finally he sees something bubble up right under the surface. He yelps happily, giving a thumbs up to the Hail Mary ship where she sits stagnant in the sky, her thrusters holding her in place. The ocean parts, revealing a large… submarine? Grace blinks at it a few times before he shakes his head and steps on. The metal is beaten in at several spots, and there look to be bite marks along the edge of the hull. Grace winces.
“Heads up,” Grace says into his radio. “I think this ocean has sharks.”
“Rocky is not familiar. What Grace mean, question?”
“It’s like a fish but really huge and it has really sharp teeth.”
“Oh.”
“And they bite things.”
“Do not let Shark bite Grace.”
“That’s the idea.”
Grace starts to fire away at the hull, using the weak spots to melt a hole for him even faster. It’s a swift job, but even then Grace is still sweating about the time. He eventually manages to push a piece of the hull up, grunting as he bullies it wider with his shoulder. He peeks his head inside, and finds only darkness waiting for him. He reaches up and turns on the light attached to his helmet, when suddenly a warning starts to echo through his head.
Unusual Levels of Radiation Detected, For Your Safety Please Turn Back
“Rock? What’s going on?”
“Radiation is coming from structure. Grace should be safe if fast.”
“Got it.”
Grace sticks his head into the sub, peering around. The first thing he notices is the thick, red substance coating every surface, as if there were a leak and blood had coated the entire interior, then coagulated. It’s hard to see any details under the thick red muck, but there are shapes scattered about the entire ship. It looks like it’s on its side, as there’s a chair lying upside down a few feet away, and what looks like a computer system welded to the ground. Grace slowly lowers himself inside, peering around, but unable to see anything more than what he first noticed. That is, until he makes his way closer to the front window. In the corner, huddled into a small ball, it looks like there’s…
Grace gasps. He takes a few steps closer, nodding vehemently. “Rocky, there’s a person in here. Like, a human person.”
“From Earth, question?”
“They’d have to be! Holy crap, holy crap,” Grace whispers as he lurches forward. He kneels down in front of the figure, unable to make out any specific features. He jostles them just slightly. “Hello? Are you alive? Please be alive. Please.”
His heart rate spikes as the figure flinches. Their eyelids crack open for a second, they groan, the sound wet and bubbly, then their head goes limp, and they fall sideways. Grace catches them, huffing in his effort to keep them upright. “Rock, what’s the time looking like?”
“Not much. Grace must come up.”
“Okay, okay,” Grace mutters, grunting as he tugs this person upwards. He somehow manages to walk the unconscious body the several feet to the opening in the ceiling. He kneels down, uses all of his strength to push them up onto the surface of the sub—Jesus, his core hurts like a mother. He’s going to need to start doing more crunches—before finally clambering up as well. The sky is overcast and gloomy, which doesn’t help with visibility. Grace attaches himself to the chain—then the Stranger to himself—with small hooks.
“Pull us up, Rock!” Grace shouts, breathing heavily. Then, an additional thought crosses Grace's mind. His gloved hand finds the stranger’s chest, realizing with a start that they aren’t breathing. “Quick!” Grace clarifies. “Very very quick!”
“Grace okay, question? See shark, question?”
“No-! Just- They're not breathing-!” he’s cut off by his own shriek of terror as the chain suddenly rips upwards, pulling them back up to the Hail Mary so quickly Grace nearly passes out. He actually might have for a second. Fortunately, he comes back to himself right as they hit the side of the ship, scampering inside with this Stranger in tow. The second he’s inside, he feels the ship lurch as it tears out of the moon’s atmosphere, leaving the blood ocean miles away in little more than a few seconds.
He’s dragging the figure inside within a few moments, and Rocky appears at his side in record time. They both manage to bring the person to the med bay, leaving a trail of blood behind them, hoisting them up onto the no-longer-white bed. Armando gets to work quite fast, it’s arms zipping around to open their mouth and run a tube down their throat. With the Stranger splayed out on the table, Grace can see the space where their left arm is missing.
Subject Appears To Be Male, Suffering From Asphyxiation, Radiation Poisoning, And Major Wounds To Vital Organs Including The Brain, Lungs, And-
“He’s gonna die,” Grace mutters woefully, leaning on the opposite wall and sinking to the ground. “My first actual human contact in years, and maybe my last chance for it ever, and I'm not even gonna be able to talk to him.”
Rocky sidles up next to him, nudging his arm. “Grace Rocky watch Human sleep. Human will be okay.”
Grace snuffles, and suddenly he's crying. He brings his hand up to his eyes, wiping them with his thumb. “Yeah, yeah. You're right.”
“Grace is leaking again.”
“Sorry.”
“It is okay. Would Grace like a hug, question?”
Grace laughs, then he opens his arms. “Yeah, Grace would.”
—-
A few days pass, and it looks like the stranger's condition has at least stabilized. He’s been hooked up to a steady stream of pain suppressants, and Grace has managed to clean a majority of his body free of the thick blood that coated him. Mary said Armando cleared out his lungs, and he is able to breathe on his own now, but the tube stays in his throat in order to help flush his system and deposit nutrients.
Ever since they dragged this man aboard, Grace has felt slightly insane. He hasn’t been able to function fully, always torn between his duties to Rocky and his apparent duties of watching over The Stranger. His arm, they discovered, wasn’t fully healed, so the distress signal and the incident itself must have happened somewhat recently. There were also several large gashes through his face, one so deep in his cheek it almost cut to where they could see his teeth. Rocky was appropriately horrified by the “leaking” required to tame that problem.
Grace spends the majority of the day in the med bay, sitting, feeling he doesn’t need to be in the lab, watching Armando as it whirs away to keep the Stranger stable. He knows Rocky is probably worried about him, or even a bit hurt because of his newly divided attention, but he also trusts that Rocky understands. After all, this is the first time he’s seen someone of his own species in… a very, very long time.
Rocky has a whole planet to come home to. A mate. A life where he will be regarded as a hero, just like Stratt promised Grace would be.
Grace has one unconscious man.
The first time Grace noticed the Stranger looked handsome, he’d been replacing the bandages on his amputated arm. His eyes trail a little higher than they usually do, and they’re tracing over the fine cut of his jaw underneath his dark stubble, the jut of his cheekbones, and his pleasantly attractive-looking nose before Grace can stop them. He forces himself to take a step back and clear his head. After all, he’s supposed to be saving this Stranger’s life, not ogling over him.
However, it is worth noting.
The second time, Grace happens to be walking by when Mary is dressing the wounds on his right arm. His muscles look defined even from halfway across the hall, and Grace trips over his own feet. He looks up and sees Rocky standing impatiently next to the Taumoeba breeding tanks. He tries to casually laugh it off, but he can feel the judgment rolling off the alien.
“Is Grace alright, question?” Rocky asks, his sarcasm evident. For someone who speaks through squeals and funny noises, he’s tuned into human dialect patterns quite easily. “Grace heart rate goes up. Does Stranger scare Grace, question?”
“No, he does not scare me. It’s just fascinating, you know?” Grace smiles half heartedly. “He’s obviously survived a lot. Somehow. I’m curious.”
“Riiight. Curiosity kills the cat, Grace say, then Grace become curious about the Stranger so quickly.”
“We wouldn’t be scientists without curiosity over things that could kill us, Rock.”
“Rocky sees point, Rocky will ignore.”
“Of course, Rocky will.”
—
It’s been two months since the Stranger’s medically induced coma, and if anything, Grace has just felt weirder as time passes.
It feels like he’s haunting the med bay, sticking his head inside every time he passes, regardless of what else may be going on in the moment.
For now, though, he’s sitting against the wall at the end of the lab next to the xenonite wall separating him from Rocky’s sleeping body, leaning his head back with his glasses hanging under his chin. His arms are crossed over his knees, where he has them tucked up against his chest. He chews on his lip.
The Stranger’s wounds are improving, and Mary has confirmed that the effects of his radiation poisoning are passing as well as they can, given the conditions. The concussion he suffered has mostly healed by now, and finally, his shoulder is healed enough to keep the wrappings off.
But still.
Grace jolts when he hears a loud crash from the other room. Given how he woke up from his own coma, he can only guess what happened.
He’s on his feet and running through the ship, coming to a skidding stop when he turns the corner and almost runs face-first into a scalpel. Where did the Stranger even get that? Grace has no idea, but here he is, weapon in hand, his eyes wide, open, and blazing with every emotion in the book.
“Who are you!?” The Stranger shouts, wielding the blade shakily, swaying back and forth. “Where am I?” When Grace doesn’t respond for a moment, the Stranger swings at him.
Grace holds his hands up, taking a few quick paces backward. “My name is Doctor Ryland Grace! You’re aboard the Hail Mary ship, we saved you from the submarine you were trapped in-”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” The Stranger hisses, his steps wobbly as he approaches. “I’m supposed to be dead!”
“So am I technically,” Grace supplies helpfully, yelping when the Stranger tries to stab him. “I know saying calm down won't help anything, but seriously, you're going to hurt yourself!”
Dually helpful, as Grace makes several more steps back, he runs into the wall. His hands immediately scramble to find anything he could use to defend himself, but unfortunately, it's just small compartments he can't open from this angle. And there's a rapidly approaching very-violent-likely-amnesiac. The Stranger is up against him almost immediately, the scalpels' cool edge pressing into Grace’s Adam's apple. Grace presses the back of his head further into the hard metal behind him, sucking in a quick breath through his teeth.
The Stranger looks up at him with dark eyes, his black hair matted and hanging around his head and face, his entire body shaking slightly. “Who am I?” He growls.
Grace blinks. What? “What?” He says aloud, his voice coming in more of a squeak.
“Do you know who I am?”
Grace goes to shake his head, then he quickly decides to just gasp a small “no.” The small knife eases back, and Grace begins to talk more. “The drugs should clear out of your system, you’ll be able to remember-”
“I remember everything.” The Stranger accentuates his sentence by nailing Grace against the wall again, slamming his forearm into Grace's chest. “What trick is it this time, Ava? You feel real—what fucking drugs did you put me on?”
“Saline and anesthesia," Grace gasps, managing to wiggle his hands between himself and the man. He pushes back, hard, and practically launches the Stranger into the wall next to him. Before he has a moment to react—or do anything more dangerous to himself or Grace—Grace has his arm pinned back against the shelves. The man struggles under his grip, but combined with months of ship repairs amounting to unintentional workouts and a diet of primarily lab-grown proteins, Grace is able to just barely out-muscle him. “I don’t want to have to put you under again,” Grace begs. “This isn’t a trick. You’re not on anything that would make you hallucinate.”
The Stranger stares at him, his entire body twitching with burning anger. His eyes twitch back and forth between Graces, his breath hissing through his teeth. “Let me go.”
“You can’t go anywhere. We’re on a spaceship.”
“Let me out!”
“Out is into the empty vacuum of space!”
The way the Stranger acts reminds Grace of a trapped wild animal. Like he’s burning through every reaction his body can muster, trying to escape a cage he has no idea how he got into. The way he’s writhing under Grace’s grip, unable to summon the strength to fight back for more than a few seconds at a time. It forces Grace to remember his earliest days aboard Mary. He just wanted answers. How cruel would he be to deny this Stranger that?
Grace’s hand loosens, and the Stranger shoves past. He’s dropped the scalpel on the ground and lunged towards the hallway, running as fast as he can away from Grace and towards where the exit may be.
Grace follows close behind, able to keep up because of his knowledge of the ship’s structure, and his efficiency for the strange gravity. He’s able to watch as the Stranger encounters his first set of windows. He watches as the man runs to them, throwing himself against the glass, looking out into the darkness surrounding them.
“There’s nothing out there,” Grace insists. “We’re a half a year away from the nearest planet. We’ve run the calculations hundreds of times.”
The Stranger appears to have suddenly frozen in place, his body, which was once shaking and weaving too and fro, now stiff as a board. Grace approaches cautiously, making sure to step loudly as he does. He sees the Stranger’s hand pressed to the thick glass, his eyes wide as he stares outside.
“It’s…” Grace leans a little closer. “Are you okay?”
The Stranger doesn’t answer right away. He flattens his palm harder against the window, like he’s trying to reach out into the void.
“There are stars,” the Stranger finally whispers, his voice scratchy and guttural. He presses closer. “Everywhere.”
Grace looks out over his head, nodding a little. “Like I said, space.” The view had stopped impressing him months ago, and that thought almost depresses him a little. How have these become boring? He’s a scientist. He’s the closest humanity has ever been to the great beyond, and yet they’re just passive things now. Grace straightens up, clearing his throat. “They’re actually really dim from here. We’re hundreds of thousands of light-years away from even the closest. Isn’t that neat?”
With the way the Stranger glares at him out of the corner of his eye, Grace guesses he’s maybe not interested for the same reasons a scientist usually would be. He clamps his mouth shut, holding up his hands in surrender. “Okay, yeah. Stars. Pretty.”
Even though the Stranger has stopped moving, Grace still sees the shaking in his hands and the rapid rise-and-fall of his chest. His eyes remain wide, and he blinks less than most do.
“All of it is supposed to be dead,” the Stranger says.
Grace frowns. “The stars?” He’s about to launch into an explanation about the Hail Mary’s whole mission when the Stranger shakes his head.
“The stars. The planets. The people.”
Grace feels his stomach flip. “Well. Maybe eventually, yeah.”
The Stranger finally tears his eyes away from the window. “Are you stupid or something?”
Grace rears back, furrowing his brows. “Not by the general definition of the word.”
“It’s not a process. It happened. It was fucking instant. The Quiet Rapture.”
“The what?”
The Stranger stares at him harder. “The Quiet Rapture?” He speaks really slowly, like that will help anything.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The Stranger blinks. “No.”
Grace throws out his hands in confusion. “Yes? What are we doing right now.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I definitely don’t.”
“You don’t know what I’m talking about?”
“I think that’s pretty clear.”
“The Quiet Rapture!” The Stranger shouts, hitting the window.
Grace opens and closes his mouth. “Okay. Tell me about it.”
“It’s…” The Stranger grasps at his hair as he starts to turn in a small circle, his breathing growing faster again. “All the planets– the stars! They all… It just disappeared. How don’t you- Everything, all at once, it just-”
“Slow down,” Grace warns, stepping closer again, holding out a hand. “Okay. Yes. They disappeared. Why?”
“No one- I don’t-”
Grace gently guides him to the floor, his hand on the Stranger’s shoulder, trying to pull him back out of the panic that has begun to overwhelm him again. “Hold your breath.”
“What?”
“Stop talking. We’ll talk later. Hold it.” The Stranger shakes, his hand darting up to wrap around Grace’s wrist. “Not what- Not what I meant, but yeah. Sure. Whatever works for you.”
The Stranger holds on with an iron grip, his eyes squeezing shut. “I don’t understand,” he whispers under his breath. “I don’t understand.”
“Okay,” Grace nods. He kneels down to the floor as well. “That’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”
“We can’t. That’s not how it works.”
“I’ve done a lot of stuff that shouldn’t have worked over the last few years.”
The Stranger seems to have run out of energy to respond. He just slowly lets go of Grace's wrist, his hand slipping to his face to cover his eyes as he partially curls into himself.
Grace sits in front of him silently, watching his body for any signal that he’s calming down. It almost looks like he’s trying to take up as little room as possible, like he’s not used to having space. Grace can’t help but wonder how long he was in that little submarine.
Slowly, Grace reaches out again, bumping his leg with the side of his hand. “Hey, let’s head back to the med bay. You should lie down and sleep.”
The Stranger tenses again. “If I leave, they’ll disappear.”
“They won’t. I promise,” Grace whispers softly. “When you wake up, they’ll be there.”
When the Stranger doesn’t respond, Grace stands slowly, immediately feeling horrible when the man flinches back. “Sorry, sorry,” he says softly, backing away and grabbing his blanket from a nearby corner. “If you won’t go back to the bay, I’d like for you to at least stay kind of comfortable.” He places it down in front of the Stranger, watching as he peeks over the top of his hand ever so slightly. Grace can hardly see his eye in the shadow cast over his face. “I’ll give you some time to yourself. If you need me, I’ll be within shouting distance. Okay?”
The Stranger stays quiet, but Grace sees him settle.
—-
Grace sticks around the lab for the majority of the next several hours. With less to do than usual without Rocky’s ideas, he has decided to try to make the Taumoeba more resistant to other hurdles it might encounter. He kills several in his attempt to see how it reacts to Helium, and immediately begins hooking up the breeding tanks to try and breed that out of their systems.
Rocky wakes up before he gets very far. He squeaks and trills a few times before thudding around into a standing position.
“Mornin’ bud,” Grace calls.
“Morning, yes, Rocky sleep well! Grace okay, question?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m all good. But, uh, you should probably know something happened while you were out.”
“Grace hurt, question?” Rocky asks immediately, his voice becoming a little more shrill.
Grace immediately turns around, shaking his head. “No! No, no, nothing like that. Our passenger woke up.”
Rocky clicks once, twice, and then he starts his scramble towards his ball. “Good, good, good! Rocky very happy! Stranger awake!”
“Wait. Rock, he’s not in the best headspace.”
“What Grace mean, question?”
Grace tries his best to catch Rocky up on everything that’d happened, and by the end, he finds himself feeling a headache begin to poke about right under his temple. Thankfully, Rocky has been able to keep up for the most part. He sits in front of Grace in his ball, his legs tapping rhythmically on the xenonite. “All stars die, all planet die. Could be astrophage?”
“He said it was instant.”
“Misremembering. Error in technology.”
“Could you misremember the stars vaporizing?”
“Human brain weak and small, not like Eridian.”
“Oookay.” Grace stands up, rubbing a hand over his face. “I can’t imagine meeting you is gonna go over well, bud.”
“Rocky surprise him, like Grace! Jump out and yell!”
“Bad idea, very, very bad idea.”
“Good, good, Rocky best ideas. Rocky introduce. Bring computer with voice!”
“Rocky-”
Before Grace can stop his companion, he goes thundering off down the hall. He chases after him, winded by the time they reach the window where the Stranger sits. Grace pushes past Rocky’s ball, immediately trying to diffuse whatever situation might arise, before he realizes the Stranger hasn’t moved. He’s still hunched down on the floor, but his head droops down, and his fingers cling to the blanket over his left shoulder. The colorful patches look so out of place over him. Grace stares, stunned.
“Stranger still alive,” Rocky trills, his voice coming through the computer half a second later. “Stranger sleep. Still healing.”
“Yeah,” Grace murmurs back. He puts a hand on his hip, huffing. “Do we… leave him here? I can’t imagine that’s comfortable, but I don’t want him trying to cut my neck open again.”
“WHAT?”
“Right. I forgot to tell you about that.”
—-
When the Stranger stirs, Grace perks up, and Rocky does as well. The Stranger all but lifts his head slightly, and Rocky is already knocking against Grace’s arm.
“Grace introduce,” Rocky sings, the translator remaining shut for now.
Grace rises to his feet, waving meekly when the Stranger’s eyes land on him. It’s sudden, intense, and it sends a shiver down Grace’s back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you or anything. I just wanted to… introduce someone.”
The Stranger is glaring at him, and refusing to look anywhere else, so Grace gulps and powers on. “Now that you’re kind of stuck here with us, I figured it would be a good idea to get this out of the way. This,” Grace steps to the side, watching The Stranger’s dark gaze immediately zero in on the ball behind him, “is Rocky. Say hi, Rock.”
Rocky waves one arm, and the Stranger flinches back like he’s been shot. Grace immediately opens the laptop, setting it down with the words facing their new companion. “It’s okay, he’s safe. He’s really kind. He’s- Well, he’s my best friend. He calls himself an Eridian. When he talks, it gets automatically translated through here into English. So! You should be able to… converse?”
“This isn’t real,” The Stranger whispers.
“Hello Human-Not-Grace,” Rocky says, dancing around for a moment. “It is good for Rocky and Stranger to meet! What is Stranger called, question?”
The Stranger pushes himself further back into the wall, his eyes growing wider.
It reminds Grace of how his kids used to react when they saw a spider on the wall, minus the horrified screaming of twenty of them at once.
“Sit down,” Grace whispers hurriedly.
Rocky immediately drops to the ground, curling in his limbs. “This is more familiar to Stranger. Less legs is less danger, question?”
“What the fuck,” The Stranger replies, still looking petrified.
“Where come from, question? Earth like Grace, question? How did Stranger get to moon, quest-”
“We can answer all of that later,” Grace interrupts. “The important thing is, now you guys know each other.” He begins to not-so-gently guide Rocky back to the lab, ignoring his trills of indignation. Thankfully, the computer does not translate most of what he’s said. When Grace returns, the Stranger is back to staring at him like he’s grown a second head.
“Look, I-I’m sorry about him, really,” Grace says as he sits down in front of the Stranger again. “We’re both scientists, so this is all… interesting? Especially because he’s never seen humans before, hah…” Grace tapers off, pressing his lips together when the Stranger stares back in silence.
Grace spontaneously holds out his hand. “We should start over. Hi. I’m Doctor Ryland Grace, and I pulled you out of that submarine. You’re aboard the Hail Mary ship. What’s your name?”
The Stranger stares at him longer. Right as Grace is about to give up on his admittedly stupid idea, the stranger’s fingers slowly unfurl from the blanket, and his hand extends to meet Grace’s. He brushes the tips of their fingers together, then draws away, curling in on himself further.
“Call me Convict,” he mutters.
Grace blinks. “Convict?” He echoes. “Is that- why?”
“Because that’s what I am. That’s who I am,” he replies angrily, his voice growing sharper. “If you have a problem with that-”
“No, no, that works a lot better than stranger, you’re right.” Grace offers him a small smile, one that Convict narrows his eyes at. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Telling me.”
Convict lowers his gaze again. “Yeah.” He says, quietly.
They sit in silence for a few moments before Convict shifts. “That… Rocky thing won't… hurt me. Right?”
Grace shakes his head, scooching closer. “No! Of course not. He's saved my life more times than any human has. He has no reason to hurt you. Actually, I think he sees us as strangely intelligent little kids he has to take care of or something. I don't really know.”
“What about that freaky arm?
“Oh! Armando! It's an extension of the ship, so it's programmed to help with medical services. And help with laboratory work. And sometimes it dances. Not anything violent.”
Convict casts a weary glance in his direction. “Okay.”
“Okay!” Grace repeats, smiling. “Any other questions? We're an open book.”
“How did you find me?” Convict asks hesitantly, his voice growing quieter with every word.
“Our ship received a distress signal from your sub, so we decided to help out.”
Convict stares at him for several more seconds. “Why?”
Grace blinks. “Because your life was in danger.”
Convicts face grows stony. “Right,” he mutters, lowering his head again.
Grace furrows his brows. Did he say something wrong? Was that not what Convict was expecting?
Convict once again grows quiet, and Grace takes a deep breath. “Well, okay. Um. I'll leave you to it. If you need anything, you can ask Mary to signal me, but Rocky can literally hear through walls so you're better off asking him.”
At this Convict straightens again. “He heard me earlier?” He hisses. There's a thud on one of the walls, heavily implying that Rocky has been listening to their whole conversation.
Grace groans, standing up and stalking towards the lab. “Hang on, I'll take care of it. Rocky!”
When he walks in, Rocky is lying on his back with his legs spread-eagled around him, making a strange growling noise.
“What are you doing?” Grace asks, trying to stifle his amusement because this is a very unassuming situation.
“Rocky is sleeping. Grace hear Rocky snore, just like Grace!”
“I snore?”
“So loud. Grace annoying. Rocky try to focus and Grace-”
“Okay. I get it. But Rock, you can't listen to everything anymore.”
Rocky flips back over, rolling over to him. “Grace Convict talk private?”
“Yeah. It's like- it's like the bathroom. Or eating, for Eridians. Some conversations are super important to keep between two people.”
“...Convict want to ask questions about Rocky with no threat of Rocky in case of danger. Rocky understand.”
Grace sighs, smiling slightly. “Exactly, bud.”
Rocky shifts, tapping his feet on the ground. “How to make Convict trust Rocky? Grace trust.”
Grace pushes a breath of hair through his lips. “That's a little different. He's probably been through a lot more than I have. Just… give him some time. Be patient. He doesn't even trust me yet.”
“Grace been through lots.”
“With you. He seems like he's been alone for a long time.”
“Like Rocky.”
“Yeah. Maybe you could try to bond over that.”
—
Simon has been alone for a few hours now, thank fuck. Every time Doctor What's-his-face comes in, he ends up having a panic attack. Then there's the spider alien.
But neither of them has tried to physically assault him or lock him in anywhere, which he appreciates.
He's currently sitting on his knees and staring out of the window, watching the blurs of stars flash by the ship. He hears something strange behind him, like some kind of heavy glass thunking closer, and his stomach drops. It's back. He presses himself against the window, refusing to look behind him.
“Grace left computer here, good, good, good!”
The creature thumps closer, trilling in ways the computer doesn't translate. “Hello ♪♫♩♪, Grace still not translate Name for machine.”
“That's fine,” Simon whispers, squeezing his eyes shut. “What do you want?”
“Rocky here to bond!”
“...What?”
“Rocky Grace, friends. Rocky, ♪♫♩♪, friends too. Friends save friends.”
“Right.”
“Grace good friend.”
“Great.”
“Is ♪♫♩♪ alone, question?”
Simon stiffens. “What kind of question is that?” he bites.
“Rocky alone too.”
Simon goes quiet, finally shifting to glance over his shoulder. For some reason the alien looks… nervous. As nervous as a rock can look, obviously. As soon as it senses Simon’s eyes, it drops to the ground as it had before.
“Rocky on ship with many Eridian. Whole team. All die. Rocky alone.”
Simon looks at the floor. “I’m sorry.”
“Grace save Rocky. Grace reason Rocky will see Mate again.”
“Is that where we’re going? To your mate?” Simon asks hesitantly.
“Yes. Rocky, Grace, ♪♫♩♪ go to Erid.”
“Oh.” Simon mulls this over in his head. So earth exists, it all exists, but he’s just… willingly flying away from all of it. Although that's if this is even real. He realizes the creature is waiting completely silently, as if to encourage him to tell his own story. Simon frowns slightly. “I was a part of a team, too. They all died, and I got blamed for the accident that killed them.”
The creature hums, clicking once. “Is why ♪♫♩♪ is name?”
“Yeah.”
“Rocky blames Rocky for crew.”
“Was it your fault?”
“...Grace say no, Rocky could not know. But Rocky doesn’t listen.”
Simon almost laughs. “I get that.”
“♪♫♩♪ at fault for team?”
“Yeah.”
“Hmm. Rocky is sorry anyway.”
Simon pauses, finally shifting further to look more at the creature he’s speaking with. No one has ever said that to him. Nobody has ever treated him as someone deserving of sympathy. No one should. But this small creature, not moments after meeting him for the first time, seems like he’s forgiving him more than he’s ever forgiven himself. It feels wrong.
“You shouldn’t be,” he replies. “I killed them. I deserve to be punished for that.”
Rocky clicks once again. “Rocky think being lonely enough punishment.”
Simon turns away again, screwing up his lips. He stays like this for long enough that the creature stands, tapping away in that large thunky ball. When Simon grabs the edge of the blanket still hung around his shoulders, he curls in on himself again, trying to keep his tears as silent as he can.
—
Grace returns after several hours. One of the protein cultures became contaminated overnight, so he and Rocky have devoted their time to cultivating a new one. He feels like he just got hit by a truck. It could be because he hasn’t slept in… twenty-five hours, but who’s counting?
He steps in with a small bag of Coma Slurry in one hand, humming, purposefully trying to draw attention to himself before he reaches Convict, who remains tucked under the window with no visual intent to move. “I have breakfast!” Grace announces. “A bag of sludge! Very nutritious sludge.”
“‘M not hungry,” Convict mutters from his heap.
Grace pauses, scratching his head. “Are you sure?”
When the Convict stays silent, Grace sighs. He sets the pouch on the ground within reaching distance and returns to the lab.
Rocky is still determinedly tapping around, running tests, and checking on the proteins. Grace finds himself hanging by the door, leaning on it, just watching his friend work. Rocky pauses, turning to him, shifting back and forth. “Grace okay, question?”
“I think I’m tired,” Grace answers honestly, interrupting himself with a yawn.
“When Grace sleep last?”
“Uhh. Before… I dozed off when you were still sleeping.”
“Grace need to take better care of Grace, statement!” The xenonite ball is already ramming into his legs, shoving him over to the cubby Rocky created for him to sleep in. “No reason for so little sleep! So much time!”
“I’ve been worried about you! And the Convict!”
“Rocky take care of Rocky, Rocky take care of Convict! Grace take care of Grace!”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” Grace laughs, falling onto his mattress and grinning as Rocky scampers into the xenonite cave system surrounding him. He rolls as close as he can to the wall, feeling the heat of Rocky’s atmosphere siphon through right into his side. Rocky throws himself down on the other side, tucking up as close as he can get to Grace, making the heat even warmer. Grace sighs contentedly, his body finally relaxing after what feels like forever.
But, as they always do, the thoughts begin to creep up.
Grace screws up his face, plastering it against the wall.
“Grace is squishing.”
“I love you, bud.”
“Rocky love Grace too. Why say now, question?”
Grace sighs again. This time, it feels harder. “I've been thinking a lot.”
“Explain, statement.”
“I feel like I made a mistake.”
“With Convict, question?”
“I think he hates me.”
“Convict has… no Human word.”
“What is it?”
“Blame self for mistake, hate self, give self no kindness.”
“Self-loathing.”
Rocky hums. “Convict has self-loathing.”
Grace frowns, tapping on the xenonite and waiting for Rocky to return the gesture. “... So your conversation went well?”
“Rocky Convict very similar. In ways.”
Grace frowns more. “Do you have a lot of self-loathing, Rock?”
Rocky stays quiet for several seconds, his body shaking slightly. “Rocky think his crew die because of him. Rocky has guilt, not loathing.”
“There's nothing you could have done,” Grace says softly.
“Grace repeat same thing over and over.”
“It's true!”
Rocky stomps twice, then changes the topic. “Rocky think Grace give Convict time. Convict will see Grace as friend.”
Grace finally settles fully, closing his eyes. “Yeah. You're right. It's only been a day.”
“Only been day.”
“Will you stay here?”
“Rocky watch Grace sleep.”
“Thanks bud. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Grace.”