Chapter Text
Emotional regulation comes easy to an Eridian.
But the regular Eridian doesn’t get send into space in a hastily built spaceship with components falling off mid-journey; they aren’t forced to watch twenty-two crewmates die a mysterious and horrible death while being unable to figure out how to prevent it; they don’t have to grapple with survivor’s guilt while the weight of an entire planet (with an atmosphere twenty-nine times thicker than of the sole planet with life in the Solar System) sits on their carapace; they don’t know what it’s like to meet an alien life form, befriend them and solve the Astrophage disaster together; they have no idea how painful it is to burn in an oxygenic atmosphere to save said alien friend, even if it may cost you your life; not to mention bidding a painful farewell, getting stranded, but then getting rescued by said alien friend who was supposed to go home, but they gave up their life for your safety and now they are starving and sick and they teach you how to operate their spaceship to make sure you get home even if they don’t make it—
Emotional regulation comes easy to an Eridian, but Rocky has gone through some shit no Eridian had the (mis)fortune to experience, so you can kindly cut him some slack, as the humans would say.
He’s trying. He really is.
He’s been convincing himself he can do it, and while he’s not the representative of eloquence, he doesn’t mince chords. He is straightforward, concise, straight to the point. This is the only mindset qualified to get him through all of this.
And it’s still not enough.
He is an engineer. Number two of his crew, now number one. He makes anything and everything, problems are not obstacles, they are challenges to conquer. But how do you fix something that’s beyond math? That’s beyond his capabilities?
It shouldn’t feel this heavy. Nothing ever makes him run. After his crew perished, he did everything in his power to figure out a way to collect Astrophage. When the Taumoeba got loose, he ran himself into the ground to try and stop it.
But… he actually failed, didn’t he? Both times. If it wasn’t for Grace’s intervention, his planet would be doomed. He’d be doomed. And now? He is alone once again against an obstacle he cannot conquer with his capabilities. The difference is that Grace can’t aid him this time. And… it’s not like the human’s actively working against him, no! Rocky understands this much. But him accepting his fate… It hurts.
Feels oddly like betrayal.
Rocky’s not sure which one he is unable to face: his best friend’s betrayal or his very own failure.
And it’s so fucking unfair. Why now, question?
Why now, when they are only two months away from home? They’ve spent literal years glued together, with the steady rumble of danger coming from all sides. Why now, when they are so close to preventing the worst possible outcome?
Rocky had been one of the first of his peers to volunteer for this mission. He gave decades of his life for this. He left behind his home, his work, his mate! All the while demonstrating immense courage. He’d always been courageous, even during his adolescent years. Reckless even. Living life without the concept of fear is easy, but once it breaks into your life…? Maybe he was never really brave, it was just the absence of fear.
Well. He’s more than earned to be selfish for once in his pathetic life.
How did I survive watching my crew perish, one by one? And why can’t I evoke that same strength now? Grace, you made me strong. But you also made me weak.
“I did?”
Rocky doesn’t get startled easily. His hearing can reach way above the human range, there is almost no nook in the entirety of the Hail Mary he cannot monitor from wherever he is if needed. If there’s one thing his forty-six solitary years aboard the Blip-A taught him, it’s to always be aware of his surroundings because you cannot know what will break in a hastily built ship surrounded by conditions not fit for life. But then Grace came along, and suddenly, he was gifted the luxury to just let go. To ease up and let his human companion fill in his blind spots.
But with Grace out of commission, he’s been once again burdened with the responsibility of constant surveillance on his own. He should be performing at his best, and yet… his convoluted thoughts blind him, disorient him, rendering him useless—
And apparently they are intense enough to make him muse out loud.
So yeah, Rocky is startled because he can no longer hide. The cat’s out of the bag, as that silly human saying goes. And it’s not like he minds being vulnerable around Grace (it’s his best friend we’re talking about, they wouldn’t have been able to build and nourish this bond with walls that are not the xenonite barrier keeping them apart), but this is a new kind of vulnerable. And Rocky cannot navigate it like how he navigates his work-related projects.
Once the surprise of being caught off-guard wears off, Rocky startles again, this time even harder.
Grace is up and about, holding onto the ladder leading to the control room with all his might, smiling through his very obvious discomfort. No, no, no, no, he shouldn’t be up, he should be resting—
“Idiot idiot idiot!” he chides him, but his anger dissipates in the oxygenic atmosphere, making his warbles discordant, the commanding presence tarnished. “You shouldn’t waste what little energy you still have left…!”
“It’s not wasting it,” Grace responds, and a chill goes up Rocky’s carapace by how sure he sounds. As if his entire voice box had been changed to a new one. It’s a clearer tone, powerful, unwavering. Sounds almost like the Grace from the early months of their journey; the Grace who was healthy and in top condition physically.
Rocky’s entire carapace dips low. There is no way out of this now, so they both settle down on the floor in the control room, right in front of the window. When Grace starts shivering slightly, Rocky dashes out of the room to retrieve his quilt, if only to help him keep his dignity by hiding his uncontrollable shakes.
Seconds tick by, and all they do is stare out the window to marvel al the stars. Rocky’s crystal translator doesn’t pick up much, but Grace has told him about the stars from his perspective many times. It’s hard not to fall in love with the beauty of space while listening to his friend’s warm tone. Rocky is anything but immune.
Grace eventually clears his throat, “So, how’s Mary doing?” He is stalling too.
Rocky creeps back a little, but the control room is narrow, and he doesn’t actually want the distance between them to grow. He wants to be ready in case his friend deteriorates and needs his intervention.
“Everything’s fine,” he says.
“Good. Happy happy happy.”
“Happy happy happy.”
Neither of their voices actually carry the expressed emotion.
“So… fishing 2.0 was a success?” Grace tuts, looking at the panels all around them.
“Yes.”
Grace smiles at that, and it appears genuine. “You’re a brilliant engineer, my friend.”
“You teaching me everything about the ship saved us,” Rocky admits, his carapace drooping. His human companion nods at that, clearly grateful. “You made sure of everything. You really gave up on surviving.”
That causes Grace’s heart to pick up. Rocky tries not to panic.
“I don’t want this,” the human starts off slow, tentative. “You think that me making peace with my situation means I’m okay with leaving you behind. But it’s not true. I don’t want to leave you, pal. But since it’s a strong possibility, I feel insanely responsible for your well-being. Maybe… I think I was overbearing. I should’ve approached this more carefully. Because you were handling your crew dying so well, or at least you were hiding it like a pro, I… I didn’t take into account your emotional turmoil. I should’ve talked things through with you before making all those decisions for the both of us. It affects us both, and yet I took matters into my own hands without consulting you. Heh, I guess I’m no better… I was also hiding from facing it.”
Rocky is completely still, and it shakes him to the core how much Grace resembles him now. He is usually so animated, but now? He limits his mannerisms as much as he can, only his mouth moving.
“I think I also feared it becoming an inescapable reality if we addressed it directly. But I also knew I needed to prepare you…”
His voice box finally gives up, and he starts coughing. Rocky flails, panicking, and already gears his body to dash back to the dormitory to fetch a water pouch from ARMando, but Grace places a surprisingly steady hand on one of his limbs, his fingers coiling around the xenonite.
Okay, okay, stay calm. Let’s get this over with, Grace deserves this much. (He deserves so much more than what Rocky can give him.)
He musters up the strength to lean closer, “I thought I knew fear when we learned about the Astrophage eating our star. But turns out I never actually knew what true fear was until I lost my crew and experienced complete helplessness for the first time in my life.”
“And you’re feeling the same helplessness again,” Grace muses.
“Yes.” Rocky fidgets with his claws, watching the mesh structure bulge around his fingers. “No matter how much effort I make to make it better, it’s just the surface. You’re not actually getting better.”
Grace nods, and there is serenity to it. “I think we are approaching this wrong,” he says. “I was never supposed to last this long, and yet… It’s a miracle and a half. You outdid yourself. Both of us did, I guess.”
“No, this is bad bad bad! We can push boundaries even further!” Rocky hates how desperate his wailing comes off, but he can’t hold it inside. Not anymore. The xenonite keeping his emotions in check finally broke, and the waves aren’t just lapping at his body, they are taking him by a storm that he would never experience on Erid with the planet’s atmospheric conditions.
Grace sucks in a deep breath, frowning. He is in pain, and Rocky cannot help.
“I think I know what the issue is,” he says.
“Really, question?” The snark makes Rocky’s musical notes climb an entire octave. “Your silly brain is actually computing for once?”
“Jerk.” Grace lets out a brief chuckle, but his fond smile falls almost instantly. “Space changed you, Rock.” That actually makes Rocky stop in his raging. “It changed the both of us. I’m your only crutch right now, and I think you’re afraid that once you land on Erid you won’t be able to assimilate back into society because of your newly developed oddities. You think no one would understand you and what you went through like I do.”
“Am I wrong to assume that, question?”
“No, probably not. The Rocky that returns will not be the same Rocky who was eager to go on this mission. That’s a fact. But… bud, you gotta give yourself and Erid time. It’s gonna be new and frightening, to re-enter society after so long, but, I swear, once you get a taste of the familiarity, you’ll bounce right back.”
Rocky stomps his limbs, his radiator pieces rising angrily. “I’m nervous about re-entry, yes, but you’re missing the point entirely!”
“And the point being?”
“I want to share my glory run with you! You underestimate your role in all of this. The role of saving my planet isn’t your only importance. Grace, I watched twenty-two Eridians meet a horrifying fate. I was completely on my own for forty-six human years. That’s longer than you’ve been alive! You can’t actually wrap your mind around it, and it’s okay. I was… I was so close to losing it, but then you appeared, and suddenly I had a purpose again. I owe you!”
“No,” Grace is quick to deflect. “You gave me everything and more. Whatever debt you think you owe me you more than paid it back.”
“But I’m selfish, you daft human!” Rocky finds himself shouting. His chords bounce around in the control room, making Mary utter something about conflict being normal between the members of the crew.
“No.” Grace looks at him, and it’s so impossibly kind that Rocky wants to tear through his xenonite suit to grab him and give his pathetic frame a good shake. “You’re just afraid of being alone again. But you won’t be. Erid will make sure to help you re-adapt to society. You will find a way to connect to your people, to the friends and family you left behind. You don’t actually depend on me being there, and if you give yourself time, you’ll realize it yourself. You’re strong, buddy. Stronger than you feel right now. You’ll make do, I promise.”
“Your body is loud.” Rocky is squirming around. The way Grace’s eyes are sunken, the way his lungs expand and shake after every breath, the way his clothes are so ill-fitting… Rocky is trapped, and Grace still refuses to understand. “When my crew fell victim to radiation, I couldn’t hear clearly what was happening to them. I thought, maybe if I knew what was going on inside their bodies I would’ve been able to do something. But I am wrong about this bit. Your body is loud.” His notes hitch, but he pushes the chords out. “I can hear everything deteriorating, yet I still can’t do anything. Death was a threat on the Blip-A because it was so silent. But now? I can hear death, but it doesn’t change anything. And I think it might be so much worse.”
Grace has the decency to fall silent after that.
Whenever he is quiet, there’s nothing to drown out the noise death’s claws make as they grapple his internal organs.
“We’re so close now,” he says, after a beat. “You will not be alone anymore.”
“Yes, but if the company I actually want to keep won’t be there, question?”
“Most of your life is still ahead of you. Even if I wasn’t malnourished right now, I’d still be just a blob in your existence. It’s not worth ruining your entire lifespan for.”
Rocky restrains himself from shaking him. How can he be so stupid? It’s death’s claws poisoning his mind. It has to be.
“What we have, this bond, it’s mutual,” he says, gesturing wildly.
“I know.”
“No. The Grace I got to work with on the mission knew. The sick Grace that is sitting in front of me now doesn’t. The illness is making you forget and devalue our connection. And I don’t blame you, I blame the sickness.” Rocky shakes so hard his xenonite suit rattles around him. He cannot say it, cannot admit to it, but he can no longer keep it bottled in— “Sometimes… it feels like I already lost you. Like I’m already mourning you. There are glimpses of you still left, but you’re faded.”
“Rocky…”
“The reason I don’t want to lose you isn’t because I’m too scared to return to my everyday life on Erid. I’m scared of losing you because you’re that important to me.” His music cracks on the last note. “You changed me, Grace. And you can’t ask me to act like I did before meeting you. That’s an unrealistic expectation you’re placing on me.”
Grace is leaking. Oh no. And yet, his composure is still intact. His breaths come out puffier now, but he is still pushing himself to go further. “I’m not placing those expectations on you. Our circumstances are.” He heaves in a breath, chest tightening. “But I admit I might’ve been a tiny bit too pushy. You’re fighting an impossible battle, I can’t just ask you to accept my death and move on, you’re right. The thing is, you will have to, though. But uh… you’re more than allowed to wallow in your emotions, okay? Just please… promise me you won’t let them fester inside you too long. I think I’d be a really restless corpse if you did.”
“No joking. Don’t ever say that.”
“Let me finish?”
Rocky huffs, annoyed. “Fine.”
“Thanks. I respect your stubbornness. Even if my chances are slim, I want to reassure you that I will not let death take me that easily, okay? I want to stay alive, but I also want to be prepared for the worst case scenario. The two can coexist, y’know. So, that’s it. That’s my promise for you. It’s not enough, I know…”
“It will do,” Rocky chirps, his emotions swirling inside him, not unlike the Mary spinning around Adrian. It actually hurts more, knowing how much Grace is fighting to have a future with him. Because for Rocky, that’s the strongest someone can ever be. And if it isn’t enough either…
“It’s your turn now, buddy… You have to promise me you’ll try to hold yourself together if I…”
Rocky shrinks in on himself. “I can’t.”
“Rocky.”
“I don’t know how.”
“You’re smart. You’ll figure it out.”
They stare at each other for a while. Even with his focus wavering, Grace can somehow see right through him, desperate, pleading. Maybe… if he can’t do this for himself, he can try for Grace. This is the least he could do after everything his friend sacrificed for him and his people.
Rocky leans slightly closer, still unsure, yet somehow feeling a bit lighter than the past couple of months. “O-okay. For you.”
As if receiving confirmation that his position was heard, Grace slumps to the side, spent. Rocky desperately reaches for him, trying to keep him upright.
“Grace, question?”
“I heard you sometimes… while I was under,” he admits. His voice is barely above a whisper, the ship’s hum is louder, but Rocky can pick it up anyway. “I thought you made… peace with me dying?” Even while at death’s door, he can still find a way to be a jerk. Rocky laughs. Maybe Grace never faded, it was just Rocky’s stupid emotions muting his hearing.
“That’s just something you say,” he replies, and warmth spreads through his entire carapace when Grace huffs out a tiny chuckle.
“Yeah. That’s just something you say.”
And with that, he is gone to the world.
Rockly leans even closer, as close as he can get without hurting his companion, listens to the unsteady beating of his heart, and cries.
.
One month until docking.
The anticipation is still strong, despite their dire circumstances.
They made their first radio transmission with the mechanics of Erid’s space elevator. Rocky laid out their situation very thoroughly, underlining the seriousness of their situation. He wasn’t kind, but it isn’t time for pleasantries. They can parade him around later, when he is sure he can share the celebrations with the alien to whom Erid actually owes their future.
“You can be shocked later. The urgency of this matter is unlike any you have ever experienced.”
“Engineer Rocky, I don’t think this is greater than the Astrophage disast—”
“Did I stutter, question?”
“You what?”
“Earth idiom. Get used to it.”
He might’ve cursed some of his respected peers to Tau Ceti and back, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is trying. Even if his chances are slimmer than the xenonite separating his atmosphere from Grace’s.
Grace spends most of his time sleeping now, but it’s probably for the better. With this barely healing injuries and the empty calories he is forced do consume, this is the best way to minimize his body’s energy demand. But he still finds ways to chime in whenever Rocky is holding a very important conversation regarding their arrival and accommodation and assessment. And oh boy, there are plenty of those now.
“Words of encouragement, pal!”
“No!”
“Words of great encouragement!” The idiot even has the nerves to give him a thumbs up.
“I’ll throw you out the airlock!”
The radio cracks in his hand. “Should we cancel our plans to save the hu—”
Rocky has never been more delighted to curse out an entire species.
.
One week until docking.
Grace barely wakes anymore. If he does, it’s only for a couple of hours, and he uses this time to eat some, listen to Rocky’s warbles (laden with barely concealed panic) about everything and anything, tethering him to his surroundings. There is barely any back-and-forth bickering now. Even forming a sentence takes a lot out of him, but Rocky doesn’t mind. He will talk for the both of them. He will take the silence from Grace, if it means he is conserving energy.
When he is awake, his moments of lucidity are few and far in between. Sometimes he’d crack a joke that would get a genuine laugh out of Rocky, but most of the time he’d just mumble something incomprehensible. Rocky would chase after him, but it’s a place where he can’t follow. Death is always there, luring him closer and closer, and no frantic music is loud enough to break through the haze.
Rocky finds he can’t bear the closeness after a while. The spin drives are too loud, the life support too annoying, his nerves stretched too thin.
They are almost home. It’s overwhelming. After decades of being away, it’s too much to ponder about. He isn’t sure how long it will actually take him to get accustomed to being on the ground again, and that’s not taking into account his sick human companion’s situation.
Eridians don’t forget. What they experience, it will sear into their crystal brain for good. He knows what home feels like, and yet… the Eridian landing in one week will not be the same Eridian that left orbit many years ago. His body isn’t the same, his mind altered. Even if he remembers, that’s his past self’s innervations. He doesn’t know how his new self will react to the old-new environment and stimuli.
It is scary, yes.
But not as scary as watching his best friend’s chances getting dimmer each passing day.
.
One day until docking.
Rocky nearly has five heart attacks right then and there.
Because Grace is actually out of bed this time. His knees shake, his joints cracking, and he is holding onto every surface for support, but he is relentless as ever.
“What the fuck are you doing, question? Have you finally gone mad?” Rocky is steaming, his radiator pieces almost flying off his carapace in frustration. It’s not enough to halt Grace’s movements so he quickly changes into his xenonite suit to stop him. Is he even in his right mind? Maybe he’s doing that weird scary thing humans refer to as sleepwalking.
“I want to see,” Grace rasps out, dragging his skeleton for a body towards the nearest window, his quilt draped around his shoulders. He seems lucid enough. The most aware Rocky’s heard him in literal weeks.
He quickly scurries over to him to help hold most of his weight. It’s not much, but he can feel the relief emitting from Grace.
They make their way to the window of the lab, settle down, and just stare at the massive mass in front of them. Well, Grace does. Rocky left his crystal gun in his habitat in his haste, but it doesn’t matter. He can observe his home planet through Grace’s visceral reaction to it.
And it does not disappoint.
Grace is actually rendered speechless. His mouth slightly hangs open, his body leans forward as far as Rocky’s steady hold lets him, and his heart picks up pace, making death’s grip slip a little. His breath hitches, reaching out with one hand to place his palm against the glass, as if he could touch the surface of Erid’s many rings.
They sit there for what feels like hours, but Rocky knows Grace cannot stay awake for that long so it must be shorter.
He ought to say something. He tries grappling for anything reassuring, but he figures they are too close to home now for lies to remain intact.
“My people are already working on ways to help heal you,” he says because it is a fact. He’s making sure of it continuously. “It’s no guarantee, I know, but…”
“It will do.” Grace parrots his words right back at him, and Rocky keens. His human companion decides now’s the perfect time to lose his strength, and his body collides with Rocky’s xenonite in a hug. They slide down onto the cold hard floor, but it doesn’t matter because what they share radiates enough warmth and security to compensate for it.
The hug finally feels comforting, reassuring, even though Grace lacks the muscle mass to actually hold his companion close. Rocky may not be able to perceive light like Grace does, but he still thinks there’s something different about his friend’s eyes as he is staring out the window, marveling at the beauty that is Rocky’s home planet. Now home to the both of them.
Maybe humans were right when they made the words ‘home’ and ‘hope’ sound so similar to each other.
Rocky fixes the quilt around Grace’s shoulders, leans closer, and taps his limbs anxiously.
“Ready, question?”
“Ready, statement.”
FIN.