Chapter Text
For what feels like the hundredth time that night cycle, Grace rolls over onto his other side, trying to find a comfortable position. He’s had trouble sleeping like this for a few consecutive nights, and it’s starting to catch up with him. His head feels like it’s splitting open. He curls in on himself a bit, pressing his fingers into his forehead and grunting in frustration at his increasing exhaustion.
“Grace is okay, question?"
He shifts to look up at Rocky, who is watching over him sleep while tinkering on something quietly in his xenonite ball, only a couple feet away. “Yeah… just having trouble falling asleep again. Don’t know why.”
“Because Grace stressed. Many worries about food supply and journey back to Erid.” Rocky rolls a little closer. “Human book for well-being explains stress effect on human health. Very important for human to be calm.”
Lately, Rocky has been reading a lot of the literature contained in the computer from Earth, wanting to begin plans for Grace’s living comfortably on Erid. The plans for his biosphere home with the correct atmosphere, temperature, and pressure would be the easy part, and would be even simpler to construct with the help of other Eridians, Rocky had explained. The ideas that seemed to excite him the most included finding ways to make the living situation elevated beyond what Grace could even experience in the Mary, built for him by other humans.
“Human book recommends relaxing bedtime routine. Listen to soothing music, sleep in a cool, dark quiet room. Stick to regular schedule.” Rocky recites what he read. “Schedule is good, room is dark and quiet. Soothing music, question?”
“Not a bad idea,” Grace stretches his legs a little. “I’ve shown you lots of music. You remember the soothing ones. Why don’t you sing for me?” He asks, jokingly.
“Good good good!” Rocky chirps excitedly, wiggling around inside his ball. “Yes, Rocky will sing. Grace will listen. Grace will sleep easily.”
“Oh! Well, if you don’t mind.” Grace chuckles and his mouth stretches into a goofy smile. He doesn't know what he expected, of course Rocky would take him seriously. “Go ahead.”
Grace expects to hear a perfectly memorized rendition of one of the songs he had shown Rocky from Earth. When they weren’t working on plans for their future on Erid, maintaining the Mary, or carefully keeping track of their current journey’s fuel consumption and timeline, they spent time together enjoying the bountiful entertainment brought on the Mary. Rocky had become a big fan of Star Trek, and it’s been difficult to ask him to branch out now that he just wants to watch The Search for Spock every movie night.
As expected from a member of a species that communicates and views the world through sound, Rocky also reacted excitedly to the concept of musical entertainment on Earth. There’s apparently a similar concept in Eridian culture, though their music is much more “personal”, according to Rocky, and closer to a form of storytelling throughout generations than something like pop culture entertainment.
It is still early in their journey to Erid, but Grace has started recognizing some less-common Eridian words and can make out the meaning of the story Rocky sings. It’s simple, and heartwarming, about a young creature on Erid that is loved by everything around it. It’s a repetitive song about each different creature on Erid, the small bugs and worms in the soil, the soft prey and the sneaky predators, the caves and the rivers and the hills and the valleys, all of which sing their love for this little Erid creature.
Some parts are a bit hard to follow, and he gets the impression that there are some Eridian phrases that he is still missing the meaning of he should ask Rocky about later. But he still easily interprets the overall energy of the song, an expression of love and care. He can feel the lower notes of the song in his bones, and can't help but let out a relaxed sigh.
Rocky pauses singing for a moment, making a rumbling noise Grace can't help but humanize as clearing his “throat”, then asks: “What Grace think of song, question?”
“It’s really nice, bud.” Grace affirms cheerfully. “I’m feeling much more relaxed already.”
“Song… was shared with Rocky by parents. While Rocky sleep in first years of life.”
It’s easy to imagine a little Rocky being surrounded by doting parents that sing this to him, letting their baby know just how loved he is. Grace thinks about that being 200-plus years ago and feels something in his heart ache. Though his perfect memory means Rocky would never forget something even from that long ago, when Rocky remembers and recites all the words now, Grace feels the weight of it. The song that is being shared with him means something to Rocky.
“Thank you, really,” He scoots a little closer to Rocky so he can reach his hand out and touch the xenonite panel, trying to express his appreciation for the kind gesture. “Please, um, keep going, if that’s okay.”
“Yes, yes! Will continue until Grace wakes. In the forest, far away, long ago...” Rocky begins the song again.
The melody is very soothing. Rocky is so close now that Grace can feel the vibrations of the song as it reverberates around in his xenonite ball. Grace scoots a little closer and curls his body around the ball, and suddenly he is able to feel the rhythm of the song across his chest.
It is not long before he drifts off into a deep slumber.
~
Rocky has finally lost his patience with having to instruct Grace on the step-by-step upkeep and preventative maintenance of the ship’s many parts, all of which were originally designed to last only a bit longer than the journey to Tau Ceti. Today, Rocky debuts a form-fitting double-insulated pressurized suit he developed, along with some type of technical gloves that improve his dexterity while working with the human-made wiring and machinery. Beyond the regular maintaining of the ship, it relaxes both their minds a bit that in case of an emergency where Grace wouldn’t be able to control the ship, Rocky would be able to step in.
He is working on the ship now, three arms moving about below the console of a control unit while he balances his weight on the other two. It’s a complicated enough task that he doesn’t require something else to occupy his mind with. Grace has found that when he gets bored, he can amuse himself by trying to keep up with the two or three tasks Rocky easily works on simultaneously. In this moment, though, since he can’t quite see exactly what Rocky was doing under the control unit, he just quietly enjoys the company of his friend, listening to the occasional chattering noises he translates as “hems” and “hums” of focused work.
Grace spins around in his chair absentmindedly. He yawns and checks the computer display across the room. It is about 9 o’clock on his simulated Earth timer. He tries to keep a regular schedule of sleeping and waking, but tonight he feels the tug of sleep and doesn’t really want to fight it.
“Almost finished.” Rocky calls out to him. It seems his yawn did not go unnoticed. “Please wait just a couple more minute before sleep!”
“No problem, buddy, take your time. S’only nine, anyway.” He gets up from his chair anyway and wanders over toward the tinkering Eridian. It’s difficult to tell exactly what he’s doing now, he just finished replacing some valves with one hand and with the others he’s... maybe re-organizing wires?... and Grace thinks to himself, not for the first time, how lucky he is that he ended up with a super-intelligent engineer on his ship.
True to his word, after just a few minutes of more fiddling with the machinery, Rocky closes up the console cabinet, finished with his work. He stretches his limbs out, adjusting the weight off of the two legs he had been using to support himself and onto the other three, stance not unlike a cat. Then, without further warning, he scampers off in the direction of the bedroom.
“Grace bed time! Race!”
Grace is really in no hurry, but finds it amusing every time Rocky wants to “race” him somewhere, and delights in the feeling like he’s chasing after an unleashed golden retriever. He’s a bit out of breath by the time he reaches the bedroom. He huffs a laugh out at his goofy shipmate who is dancing and chirping victoriously.
“Rocky win! Grace lose!!! That’s 112 Rocky – 0 Grace.”
“No fair, you had a head start. And I was already tired!” Grace complains, settling down in the pile of blankets, fidgeting to get in the most comfortable position and finally rests his eyes. “Rocky cheats.”
“Rocky fair and square. Grace slow slow slow.” The alien gloats. He suddenly feels the mattress dip as Rocky jumps up onto it. Grace turns over to face him, and it dawns on him how close the two can be, now that Rocky isn’t restricted to the xenonite ball. Rocky prances around, enjoying the give of the mattress under his claws. He pokes Grace's side, causing him to let out an undignified yelp.
“Jeez! Guess that new suit means you can get up in my business like this, too.”
“Bonus. Reward for Rocky, for fixing ship.” Rocky reaches out and pokes him in the face with two fingers, narrowly missing poking his eye out.
“Hey!” Grace laughed. “Careful with those!” He sits up, ready to mess with Rocky right back.
He taps the top of Rocky’s carapace, then, acting on a whim, smooths his hand over the bumps and divots on its surface. He had always wondered what touching Rocky’s exoskeleton-shell would be like, and though there’s a layer between them still, he enjoys the unique varied texture feeling. It’s warm to the touch, too, the insulation keeping only most of the inner 210°C environment from heating the outside layer. Pressing his fingers a little more into plush of the suit, he lets out a relaxed breath. His malnutrition has led to, among other things, becoming mildly anemic. It feels like his hands are always freezing, so this heat is freaking heavenly against his cold skin.
He’s suddenly met with a low vibration reverberating on his palm. Is Rocky purring? He drags his fingers down to the front of the carapace. The “purring” gets louder and lower pitched. He lifts his hand cautiously, holding his breath.
“Is that… a good noise?” Grace asks, wanting to confirm before he continues.
“Feels good good good.” Rocky rumbles quietly. “Relaxing feeling.”
“Whoa. I wonder why. You don’t have, like, nerves here, do you?” He ghosts his fingers over the top of the carapace again, trying to imagine what it might feel like without the insulated suit layer. Skin-to-not-quite-skin.
“Not on surface. Sound of being touched carefully, sensing texture of Grace hand is a good feeling for underneath.” Rocky explains. Grace resumes petting, straightening up and reaching out with his other hand, too, now.“♩♫, it is a nice gesture between Erid friends, family, mates, to touch hand to carapace like this.”
“New word – “pet”! That’s fun! I guess everyone likes being petted.”
“Humans like, too, question?”
“Um, I guess! It’s mostly something you would do to show affection to an animal companion, but humans like to get the top of their heads, shoulders, and back massaged too, which is basically the same thing.” Rocky’s humming purr starts up again. Grace lets his arms fall and wraps himself fully around his alien companion, enjoying the warmth and the buzzing feeling in his chest and through his limbs.
This is amazing. Grace thinks to himself, a little bashful, unable to voice the thought aloud. It’s just like when he sat close and sung me to sleep. I can feel it from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. I really didn’t realize how much I missed physical contact with someone else until now, either.
They sit like this together for some time, both enjoying the new and strange inter-species massage-hug. The warmth from the insulated suit spreads throughout Grace’s body, and he shivers with the sensation. It is maybe the best hug he’s ever had. He finds the texture of Rocky’s carapace comforting as he rubs his arms up and down against it. It’s so nice and soothing, though, that Grace messes up, and forgets himself enough to let out a loud yawn.
“Sleep time for Grace. Lie down now.” Rocky says, authority in his tone.
“So bossy…” Grace whines, and squeezes one last hug around his friend. He follows the orders given to him, rolling over onto his stomach and pressing his face into his pillow. He should be feeling more relaxed than before, and he kinda is, but for some reason his heart is racing like crazy. He misses human contact, human connection, he knows that, but he had been missing that in a smaller way his whole life. He was used to it, fine with it, really. This was something different.
His train of thought is interrupted when Rocky climbs on top of him, resting squarely in the middle of his back. Rocky settles down, and even resting only half his weight was still enough to knock the breath right out of Grace. “Whoa, buddy!”
“Rocky can watch Grace sleep properly, correct distance. Now Rocky pet Grace.” Rocky wraps his solid, rough arms over the top of Grace’s shoulders. He kneads at Grace’s skin, performing his best mimicry of Grace’s earlier touches. Grace groans appreciatively. It’s too good…
Then, while continuing to massage him, Rocky begins singing. It is a different story from last time, a myth about a god of the mountains and a god of the river and how they argue and make up every day and night. The two gods find a balance between their powers and work together to create harmony and life on Erid. Grace feels the urge to ask a million questions about this story, but the combination of Rocky’s hands on his shoulders and back, and the vibrations now running through his body caused by Rocky’s constant singing is turning his brain to mush. He lets himself enjoy the moment, thinking of nothing but how good it all feels, and slowly is lulled to sleep.
Grace is in a glowing white field, bundled head to toe in heavy winter clothes. He struggles to run through the deep layer of snow as he giggles with joy. He looks back, and sees his dear friend chasing after him. He keeps running into the forest ahead, ducking to avoid a snowball thrown at him.
The chase continues until Grace is able to find a tree to hide behind. He watches his friend search for him, trying to hold in his gleeful laughter. His friend trips over a branch, and in a panic Grace walks over to check if he’s okay. Grace quickly gets pulled down and tackled to the ground, suddenly in a play-wrestle fight. No fair, he always plays dirty! But he can’t help but laugh as he rolls around.
“Ryland!” He hears his name echo through the forest. It’s his grandmother calling him back for dinner. He’s not sure when it suddenly became so dark out. He holds his friend’s gloved hand and leads him back to his grandma’s house, where the smell of dinner welcomes him back home. Inside, the radio is playing a familiar, droning melody. He climbs up into the towering chairs beside the counter-top, where a cheesy vegetable soup sits waiting for him. He slurps down the belly-warming goodness, wiping the steam from his glasses.
Grace feels his eyes wet with tears. He misses grandma.
When Grace wakes, he’s laying on his back and Rocky, still perched above him, is singing softly. Still half-asleep, Grace wipes at his bleary eyes and gets the feeling he's heard the melody somewhere before.