Chapter Text
The sea outside splashed and trickled. It was a uniform but changing noise. No matter how long Adrian spent listening, it commandeered a bit of their attention. The biodome team had not yet figured out how to make the water retreat and come back the way Earth oceans did.
Ryland Grace always said that it was great this way, that he didn't need changing tides. That just the sound was enough. Somehow, though it wasn't the same thing, his insistence reminded Adrian of Rocky and the little pile of uneaten sleep supplements by their nest.
(What was Rocky doing now? Celebrating, maybe, that their scheme to trap the two of them together had worked. Fiddling with something, always building-tinkering-making, occupying their restless claws as they waited...
Or standing somewhere on the shore, alone, listening blankly to the middle distance. It had happened a few times now. Out of nowhere, Rocky would stiffen and go silent, frighteningly deaf to Adrian's calls of their name, gentle at first and then more urgent.
Finally Adrian had nudged them, that last time, in a big, busy plaza near the spaceflight research center. Eridians milled about, rushing to and from work, exchanging greetings and news and gossip. Adrian and Rocky had been on the way to meet with some engineers who were working on radiation shielding for future spaceships.
Rocky had flinched away from Adrian's touch. They stumbled, almost tripping over their claws.
"No!" they'd gasped, the notes high and strangled. "The-- the switch! Where--"
Adrian hovered, arms held out. Every little bit of flesh they had, deep underneath their carapace, felt like it was twisting. "What?" they said helplessly. "Rocky? My dear?"
"No, no, no!" Rocky turned in a frantic half-circle. They slammed their claws into the ground, making haphazard soundwaves that had a few passing Eridians turning towards them in confusion.
"The G's-- the chair-- he'll die, where's the blasted switch?"
And then something shifted. Rocky's spirit, wherever it had gone, came back into their body. They stilled, freezing in place. All five of their legs trembled.
It was only then that Adrian had registered the faraway drone of a siren. It came from the research center. Not a rising and falling wail, which would have indicated grave danger, but a single, bored tone repeated many times across short intervals. Nothing of note here, it said; the ensigns just messed up a small experiment. Clear the lab at your leisure.
Some Eridians had begun to whisper to each other. Adrian heard Rocky's name a few times and straightened up to their full height, trying to make a shield between their mate and the gawkers.
"Rocky?" Their voice had been quiet, wary of upsetting them again.
Rocky shuddered. They blew out stuttering gusts of heat, then shook themselves. Dug their claws into the ground, forcing away the shake in their limbs.
"I'm fine," Rocky had said. Flat, clipped. Devoid of inflection. "Just... let's go. We have an appointment.")
Adrian stifled a flinch. They hoped-- oh, by Erid's rings, they hoped that Rocky was preening. That they were happy about a job well done, and not standing somewhere trapped in their mind.
... Maybe Rocky had shared what they needed. At least a little bit of it. Adrian had been disappointed, but Rocky had told them how to fix at least one of the things that bothered them.
The two beings closest to them weren't getting along well. That had to wear on Rocky, perhaps more than Adrian had realized. Enough for them to concoct this plan.
It wasn't a meek agreement to take the supplements and talk. But it was something, at least.
Ryland Grace had stopped sweating. Hopefully that was a good sign. His breath seemed to flow easily in and out. He looked at Adrian, and they hunkered down a bit, trying to loom less.
"If Adrian not make discomfort, what does, question?" They tapped one claw twice, quietly.
Ryland Grace released air out of both his mouth and nostrils. He leaned against the wall and removed his glasses. He held them up to... the door? No, the light. (It was an odd gesture. Were the smudges hard to see? Adrian had thought they would be distinguishable by color.)
He pulled the sleeve of his garment over his fingers. His head tilted down, strands of hair brushing his forehead as he started rubbing the fragile lenses with the fabric.
"I just... you're Rocky's mate," he said slowly. He picked the words with care. "The most important person in his life. The one he fought so hard to come back to. I want to..."
His mouth firmed. His forehead did too, the skin bunching. "Make a good impression," he said, finally.
Adrian hummed, confused. Their sense of Ryland Grace sharpened in response, deepening until they sensed the tiny fluttering valves in his veins and the texture of his spinal fluid. The delicate, organic feedback gave them no answers.
"You are savior of planet Erid, and of Eridians," they said. "No better impression."
Ryland Grace lifted one shoulder. Did that count as a shrug? "Yeah, but that's just... the big stuff. The stuff that everyone..."
He trailed off. He shook his head just once and started again: "I want to make a good impression... on a, um, more personal level. Not because of the whole mission thing."
He held up the glasses to the light, then created a wet little click with his tongue. He went back to rubbing them, so perhaps that was a sound of disapproval.
"You've been together for so long, and I'm... a weird alien he brought back from his mission who now takes up all his time. Rocky told me so much about you..."
Adrian straightened up in surprise. "They-- he did?"
"Of course. We had a lot of time on our hands on the way to Erid." Ryland Grace was smiling with just one end of his lips. "He told me how you met. What your wedding was like. How you built your house together..." The smile grew. "He told me you don't put up with any of his crap."
Adrian winced. "I have, lately," they admitted. "I am... unsure of him now, in some ways. He came back to me but--"
Ryland Grace was already nodding, but they stopped anyway, trying to put their thoughts into simpler sentences. "Adrian put up with crap more now," they said. "Rocky come back same, but not same. Jumpy. Unwell."
A new expression: mouth a flat line, and nostrils expelling breath. The eyes glancing away towards the door. "Yeah."
Adrian listened closely to the rhythmic squeezes of that single human heart. "Dr. Ryland Grace have mate, question?"
Ryland Grace's mouth curved upwards. This time, the skin around his eyes stayed smooth. Adrian couldn't have put even their most dexterous claw on why, but... it just felt like it wasn't a proper smile.
"Rocky is right," he said. He looked at his glasses again, then settled them back onto his nose. "You don't have to say my whole name and title all the time."
"Is respect," Adrian said. They bent forward in an Eridian frown. "Make sure you know Adrian know your history. Name from parents, title from self-accomplishment. Respect."
"/ˌɪnkənˈvinjənt/ is what it is." But the tiny veins in that malleable human face were expanding again, inviting more blood to flow into the skin.
It was fascinating how thin those 'ee' noises were, coming from a human throat. From an Eridian, for all their simplicity, they would have carried an entire polyphony. "Need Eridian word," Adrian said.
Ryland Grace thought for a moment. "Um... lengthy. Bothersome. Annoying."
"Not annoying!" Adrian protested. "Adrian honored to hold full name in gas bladders. Not too lengthy. Could take ten units to say, would not be too much."
"...Oh," Ryl-- Grace said.
Additional moisture collected in his eyes. The surface tension changed, holding the salt water inside for now. Still, Adrian knew what this was. Two of their hearts beat faster, a thin trickle of panic shooting through them.
Ancients below, I made him cry, I made Rocky's closest friend cry-- but... it was a solemn moment. Not the explosive upset or raised voices Adrian might have imagined, if they'd stopped to wonder what might make Dr. Grace leak water from his eyes.
"Inconvenient," Adrian supplied quietly, in Eridian. "But... do you want? Not whole name every time, question?"
"Yeah." Grace sucked air through his nose, producing a quiet sniff and a small smile. "That would be okay with me. If... well, if you want."
"Alright," Adrian said. The gravitational pull in the room did not change, but a weight seemed to lift off their carapace. Their vents opened, releasing heat and pulling in cooler ammonia. "Then you say hello. Or hi. Not good afternoon."
Grace-- or Ryland, perhaps?-- snorted. It sounded a little like Rocky's rude noises, but Adrian didn't think it was meant that way. "Okay. Yeah. Deal."
Adrian moved their torso in a human nod. "Words of agreement."
Eyes sure did a lot of blinking. Adrian wished it didn't sound so sticky every time. "Oh!" Grace smiled, properly this time.
"Rocky did that too. When I--" His lips exposed his teeth. "I had to get out of the Hail Mary when we were gathering organic material from Adrian-- um, the planet-- and he said, 'Words of encouragement.'"
Adrian laughed too. It felt good to release some of the tension that way. They couldn't help but tap their claws in cautious delight. This was working. They were talking, properly, with none of those empty pleasantries that had upset Rocky so much.
"He does that sometimes, yes. It is an old Eridian custom that dates back to..."
Simpler, they reminded themselves. Though Grace had understood their more complex phrasings a few times now. "Not done much in modern conversation. But very, very old Eridians still do."
Grace peered at them. His eyes did those tiny movements again. Adrian was starting to read this expression as 'thinking quickly.' "Like in The Wedding of Clay 2, maybe?"
Adrian chortled, chirping in delight, knocking four of their claws against the ground. Under the awkwardness, Grace was funny. And quick-witted.
"Yes!" they said. "They do it many, many times. Quotes: Words of happiness. Affirmation of mate. Joyful expression."
"Wait, wait," Grace said. He held one hand up as though Adrian had been about to leave. His mouth was starting to open in an-- incredulous?-- smile-grin Adrian hadn't sensed before. "Does Rocky actually like it? The play?"
Adrian scratched one foot against the ground. They hummed low, the best approximation they could make of the human 'hmm' of being in thought. "He complains much," they said slowly. "He says boring, stilted, sleep-making."
"Maybe he complains a little too much," Grace offered. It wasn't hard to read him now. His voice went up around his emphasis, then down: gleeful, conspiratorial.
"He does," Adrian said slyly. "We tell later. That we know. The Wedding of Clay 2 favorite play of Rocky. Much embarrassment."
Grace nodded. "Serves him right for locking us up in here."
Adrian moved up and down too, mirroring the gesture. "Yes."
They shared a smile-- Grace with his mouth, and Adrian with two wiggling sets of claws. Rocky had said that the human equivalent was to stick one arm out and point the thumb upwards from a fist.
Grace folded one arm across his chest, muffling the sounds of his lungs and heart. He gazed out at the water through the door. Water was largely transparent, Adrian knew. What might it look like under the light? Could Grace see all the way to the bottom of the manufactured sea?
"He doesn't like it when we're too polite, though," Grace said.
"No," Adrian agreed. "Though we talk good now."
"Right," Grace said. His eyes made the thinking-movements again.
(He had dodged the question about his mate, but Adrian didn't blame him. If he had a mate, and they were back on Earth, they were unreachable now. If he did not, he was... even more painfully lonely than Adrian had thought.)
"I feel bad that Rocky is spending so much time with me. Here." Grace tilted his chin at the shore. "He... I mean, you're his mate. He should be with you. More, I mean."
Adrian paused. Did Grace feel stifled, perhaps, by Rocky's hovering? "Too much time with you, question?" they asked.
It seemed Grace had a preference for which part of his mouth to attack with his teeth. His lower lip was bitten again. Adrian wondered what the stiff, tiny hairs just below it felt like against his teeth.
"I thought he'd stop, now that I'm feeling better and no longer, you know..." He waved one arm, gesturing down the length of his body.
Dying, Adrian thought, suppressing a shiver. He'd been so thin. Utterly emaciated in a way that was audible even to someone unfamiliar with his species.
"But he's still here a lot." He glanced at Adrian, then away. "I feel like I'm stealing him."
"No, no," Adrian said, decisive. "Is language difference. In Eridian, stealing means... take something without permission. Not give back. Rude, illegal."
But Grace nodded. It was a slow movement, like his head felt heavy. "Yeah. Same in English."
"...You are not stealing," Adrian said, after a puzzled pause. "Do have permission. Rocky would not come if he did not want. Rocky strong, stubborn. Has own mind."
"Okay, but..." For less than half a unit, Grace's whole face scrunched up, the fat in his cheeks squishing towards his eyes, his nose wrinkling. The curl of his lip exposed teeth.
"I meant I'm stealing him from you. You must miss him when... when he's here. With me."
Oh. Adrian rocked back onto their three supporting feet in surprise. Even the odd facial twitch seemed unimportant now. Grace thought...
Grace thought that Adrian resented him. Was jealous of him, even.
The pieces slid together like the interconnected xenonite cubes Eridian parents gave to their hatchlings to encourage dexterity. All this time, Grace had felt that he was overstepping. In the way. Driving a wedge between them. Hated, perhaps, by Adrian. So he'd been as polite and inoffensive as he knew how. He--
Grace made a small, surprised noise. His shoulders lowered. The expansion of his lungs increased. He slowly lifted a hand to his chest, frowning.
Adrian realized they'd started humming. It was the dark, warm register of comfort, of soothing, too quiet for Grace to hear, but intense enough to affect him. His tendons went pliant. His veins expanded as even those tiny muscles relaxed.
It was the same hum Adrian made for Rocky every time they watched them sleep. They'd hum until their gas bladders started to cramp, desperately hoping that the sound might help Rocky stay asleep a little longer.
They let the sound fade. Grace glanced around at the room in mild confusion.
"Do have permission," Adrian said again. The mid-tones of their chords were still gentle, too soft, but they couldn't help it.
Grace had fretted about being gravel in the cogs of Adrian and Rocky's marriage. When he was the one who had brought Rocky back in the first place.
Adrian had thanked Grace already-- months ago, as soon as Grace's health had improved enough to hold a conversation. In response, Grace had made expressions and gestures that had been a mystery to them at the time. Now, with more experience of human body language, they recognized his embarrassment, perhaps even discomfort.
He'd stressed over and over that Rocky had saved his life too, then tried to change the subject entirely. So Adrian didn't thank Grace again. They would be grateful for the rest of their life, but Grace didn't need to hear that now.
"You are good for Rocky, statement," Adrian said instead. "Friends. Life-friends. Went through many things together. Bad, bad, bad. But not so bad when shared. Good for Rocky, good for Adrian, good for you."
They clicked faintly, focusing on what the soundwaves returned: the slightly swollen skin under Grace's eyes. The reduced pressure of his blood. There were other signs of fatigue, probably, which Adrian could not read.
"Rocky not alone-affected," they said softly. They would have liked to touch Grace, brush their leg against his in reassurance, but didn't dare crowd him. "You carry it too."
Grace closed his eyes. His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath.
"Yeah," he said. There was a roughness to the word Adrian hadn't heard before. Then Grace's heartbeat ticked up, his eyes opened again, anxious. "But I'm okay! Really. It's alright. I'm grateful to be here. To be alive."
... Rocky and Dr. Grace were perhaps more similar than Adrian had anticipated. Born and hatched inconceivably far apart, on worlds so different that even the other's air would kill them, and yet hewn from the same rock.
Grace's voice was human, of course, but it was a similar tone: I'm okay. I'm fine.
If haranguing Rocky to talk didn't work, it would not work on Grace either. Adrian suppressed a fond, weary trill. How was it that they had met two such exasperating creatures in their lifetime?
"You know," Adrian said, sitting back on their legs, conversational. "You're not only one. Adrian want make good impression too."
That made Grace pause. His mouth opened, but for a moment, no sound came out. "Really? But..."
"You save Rocky's life. Save all five of my hearts." They clicked their claws in emphasis. They'd decided not to thank him again, but it was important to say this plainly. "And Rocky and you close. Very close."
Grace ducked his head. The next inflation of his lungs was too short. "I'll tell him, don't worry," he said. "To spend more time with you--"
"No, is not what I mean." Adrian chirped at him, a correction. "I said. You have permission."
Rocky wasn't a device to be lent out. But a particular soundscape occurred to Adrian: them and Grace, solemnly trading Rocky back and forth at the biodome's airlock, promising each other to adhere to the schedule they'd worked out, while Rocky growled in annoyance but let them.
Adrian held back a many-toned chuckle. Perhaps, once they knew each other better, Grace would find the thought amusing too.
Rocky certainly would. They'd huff and protest, of course. But secretly, some old and lonely part of them would shiver and unfold-- baffled that they, who had always been "too odd" for their siblings and peers, were now so coveted.
"Very close is good," Adrian said to Grace. "Saw things, did things. Adrian was here, on Erid. You save stars, yes. But also had bad things. Fear, hunger."
Grace swallowed, although there was only saliva in his mouth. His throat moved around nothing. The inner workings of his larynx were fascinating.
"Adrian want Dr. Grace healthy-good-happy too." They tapped both of the claws that were facing Grace on the floor in emphasis. "Not just Rocky."
"Oh," Grace said after another pause. Although there was nothing obstructing his airway, his voice was muffled.
"Alone on strange planet. Eridians help, yes. But still lonely. Yes?"
Grace looked down. The surfaces of his eyes were getting wetter again, more than before. "A little, maybe. But--"
A little, maybe, he said, when he was the only one of his species on the entire planet. Adrian carefully didn't scrape their leg at him in exasperation. Oh sands, he really was like Rocky.
"No but," they said. "Eridians all different. Hard where you are soft. No face. No eyes."
"Faces are overrated," Grace mumbled. But he made that sniffing noise again.
"Erid hostile to human, would die outside." Adrian trilled softly, not a chuckle of amusement but disbelief. "How Dr. Grace not scared time-full, question? Brave. Very brave."
Grace laughed too, but it came out choked, like his throat was suddenly too narrow. A single drop of moisture tracked down his face. "You say that like I'm not. Scared, I mean." He wiped at his cheek.
Adrian let their carapace sink lower. "Biodome... not good, question?"
"No, no!" Grace said loudly, almost frantic. "I mean, yes. Everything is great. The biodome is-- so amazing, Adrian, you--"
He held his breath, his face twisting. He was starting to sweat again. Adrian listened to the sounds his body made, the tremble of his diaphragm, as he tried to hold it in.
The sound that finally came out was perhaps a sob. "You gave me the sea," he rasped. "You..."
He sniffed and wiped his nose against the back of his hand. His throat made something that wasn't really a laugh. But although the corners of his mouth trembled, they did turn up. "I have a, a house, and the beach is just--"
He put out a hand again, not really towards anything. "It's so beautiful. It's... more than I thought I'd ever have again."
A few shuddery breaths. More wetness. Adrian realized they'd scooted closer, and made themselves stop. It was... hard to hear him like this.
Rocky had said that Grace leaked when he was sad or frightened, but the description hadn't prepared Adrian for how it felt. It tore at their hearts, made their claws itch inside the xenonite suit.
A tear dripped off Grace's chin. Adrian wondered what the moisture felt like, running through those short face-hairs. "I can't... I seriously can't thank you enough."
"Don't thank me. You..." Adrian stopped. The higher mid-tones quivered.
They ventured closer in increments, legs bent, almost scooting on the bottom of their shell. It was another thing that their species had in common-- the attempt to comfort another by way of physical proximity.
They didn't touch, but Grace didn't move away either. "Tell me what makes you scared."
"Just... things happened on the mission, you know. Like you said." Grace turned his head to wipe his face against his shoulder, smearing tears onto the pretty-texture garment. "And... I guess sometimes my... body, or brain," he waved towards his head, "don't know yet that all the scary stuff is over."
Adrian hummed again. It felt easy. Natural. The same register as before, out of human hearing range, but not exempt from being felt.
Grace relaxed with a sigh. After a moment, he sat down--just folded his tall, lanky body down onto the floor, crossing his legs. This made him even shorter, but he didn't seem scared of Adrian's bulk.
He braced his elbows on his knees and let his head hang lower. The incessant movement of his lungs evened out, aided by the soothing vibration of Adrian's voice. His heart slowed. No more tears came, but he sniffed once in a while.
"Rocky, too," Adrian ventured, finally. "Rocky maybe also not know scary things not here."
Grace opened his eyes and looked at them. He'd leaned towards them a bit, perhaps drawn by the warmth that they radiated even through the suit.
"Shi-- um, shoot," he said. His forehead wrinkled. "I knew it. He's not doing so well, is he?"
Adrian moved their carapace from side to side. "No. He doesn't want me to worry. Says he is fine."
Grace's lips turned up again. "I bet he does." He wiped his eyes one last time, moving his long fingers carefully to avoid upsetting his glasses. "Can I help? I want to help."
His eyes were more swollen than they'd been. The inside of his nose, too. A viscous substance sat there, thicker than tears, shifting a little with every breath. What would happen if it blocked his nostrils completely? Would breathing through his mouth work just as well?
Adrian clicked their claws open and shut. "Eridian sleep important," they said. "But Rocky doesn't sleep enough. He wakes too early. Won't have medicine. Says he is fine," they repeated, with a weary, frustrated growl.
"Oh no," Grace said. Adrian was getting better at reading the tones of his monophone voice. He sounded... heavy, somehow. "I've noticed that he seems tired, but..."
His eyes flickered across Adrian's shell. "He won't take the medicine?"
"...No." Adrian allowed themselves just a few embarrassed scraping noises, then pushed through the discomfort of the eating-adjacent topic. "I think... Rocky scared. Of medicine. Because..."
Grace straightened up from his slouch. "If he takes it, it's real," he said. "If he takes it, he has a problem."
Adrian's legs lowered, tilting them back a bit in surprise. "Yes."
"Okay," Grace said, decisive. He plucked his glasses off their perch and... hung them from one ear? "Okay. We need a plan."
Adrian clicked at him, reeling. "A... plan?"
"Yeah. We'll help Rocky." Grace looked up at them. His eyes were fixed now, no more tiny thinking-movements. "Together. We'll figure something out."
He said it like it was... what was the human expression? 'A done deal.' The Eridian equivalent: a ready set of tools, forged before a task had even begun to take shape.
"...Yes," Adrian said. Quieter than they'd meant to, but one of their gas bladders was all clenched up. "You help. Amaze. Adrian did not think..."
They broke off, unsure how to put words to the jumble of thought and emotion.
But Grace nodded like they'd made complete sense to him. The tilt of his mouth looked... soft, somehow. "You're not alone either."
He stuck out his hand. He held it mostly flat, the thumb facing upwards; Adrian had heard about this 'handshake' ritual. His heart thumped faster, but he didn't seem anxious. More... excited, maybe.
"Friends?"
"Yes," Adrian said and, with one last, nervous swoop somewhere in their hearts, "Ryland." The Eridian tones for the human name flowed easily, taking shape as though they'd been ready all along.
Grace's... no, Ryland's eyes widened. Then he smiled more than Adrian had ever heard.
Adrian carefully touched their claws to his skin through the suit. The many long fingers were not as bendy and pliant as they'd expected.
"Friends," they said. "And... need word. People who plan together. Make scheme, but nobody else knows. Strategize, talk, all secret. Smart and capable."
"Oh!" Ryland nodded. "/kənˈspɪɹətɚz/!"
"Conspirators," Adrian added in Eridian. They wiggled a little in satisfaction.
Ryland beamed at them. Adrian was almost reluctant to let go of his hand. A fascinating limb-- squishy on the surface, yes, but harder underneath.
That dense, sturdy noise inside was useful, Adrian realized. Ryland could use these not-too-soft hands for all manner of tasks. Perhaps the endoskeleton was not as pointless as Adrian had thought.
"... and the water even smells a bit like the sea at home," Ryland said. "How did you do that?"
"We put tiny sea plant life into water," Adrian said. "Eat organic matter. Dead plants, microbes. But no fish in Ryland's sea. Eridian fish too dangerous."
According to Ryland, the light had faded into dusk. The effect was cozy, he said, and tried to describe the glimmer of orange-tinged luminance on the water. He was no professional poet, but it did sound nice.
Though Adrian had listened attentively to the meaty bulbs and tubes inside him, he didn't seem hungry or ready to defecate. He was sitting up against the wall, his legs splayed in front of himself. His blood pressure was much better than it had been. He was relaxed, comfortable.
"But your oceans are boiling. This one is icy by comparison."
"Same as Ryland and Rocky and Taumoeba," Adrian said, triumphant. They clicked excitedly, tapping their feet in place.
"Oh." Ryland grinned, exposing his teeth again. "You bred algae that could survive in cold water!"
Adrian trilled in assent. "Yes. Took many breeder tanks. Many."
"I'll bet." He glanced at the sea again, then back at Adrian. "Well, thank you. The smell is great. Different from Earth, but really quite close."
"Welcome, welcome," Adrian said. They waved one arm dismissively. "And we make sure algae not hurt Ryland. Of course."
He leaned closer, intrigued. "Oh? How did you do that?"
Adrian was in the middle of explaining the many strips and bulbs of Ryland-tissue that the lab had grown to test the water and algae and even the sand, when Rocky came back.
Adrian had heard their approach, of course, but kept talking. If they fell into silence as soon as Rocky's steps reached them, it wouldn't convince them that the awkwardness was gone. Ryland was telling them that humans on Earth would have 'given their left arm' for Eridian cloning technology when he spotted Rocky.
Ryland stopped, then smiled. "Oh, hey," he said. He clambered to his feet, patting the seat of his trousers a few times with both hands. "You're back!"
"Hello," Rocky said, oddly formal. They approached the door, their steps measured. "Adrian and Grace normal now, question?"
"Yes, mate-mine," Adrian said. They clicked their feet against the floor, searching, and got back a sharp impression despite the suits.
Rocky seemed alright. A little tense, maybe. But not in the same way they'd been that day in front of the spaceflight research center. When it'd seemed like their carapace would shatter if Adrian spoke too loudly. The soundwaves from the sea bounced off their suit and shell, reassuring Adrian in murmurs of burbling water that Rocky's stance was solid now, steady.
"Yeah, we are," Ryland said cheerfully. There was a minute tremble in his voice but it didn't seem bad. More... anticipatory. "We had a nice chat. Adrian told me so much about you."
"...They did?" Rocky said, suspicious.
Ryland grinned. Adrian found a word for the wrinkles around his eyes and the curve of his mouth: gleeful. He pointed one finger at Rocky through the clear xenonite. "We've figured you out. You like it. You like The Wedding of Clay 2..."
"Four and One Hearts," Adrian supplied, when Ryland held out one hand to them.
"What?" Rocky said. They shifted backwards, their back legs folding almost entirely. Their gas bladders burbled a few midtones in huffy confusion. "This what you talk about, question? Grace ridiculous. Adrian ridiculous. What?"
Adrian stifled a small snort of amusement. Rocky was good at predicting outcomes, at spinning outlandish possibilities through the refractive crystals of their brain. But Adrian was willing to bet that this was the last thing they'd expected to hear.
"It's okay, Rock, don't worry about it." Ryland smiled. If it hadn't been for the door, he might have patted the top of Rocky's suit. "I've liked questionable media before. It's alright. We're all friends here."
"No, no, Rocky hates that play." Rocky waved their arms in agitation, skittering from side to side. "Grace and Adrian wrong. Wrong. Wrong."
Ryland's eyebrows moved upwards. He had propped his hands up on his hips. "Words of doubt," he said.
Adrian laughed, surprised. Ryland chuckled with them, and after a unit or two, even Rocky made a few reluctant trills.
"You are both sand-for-brains," Rocky grumbled. "But no more polite and boring?"
"No, dear mate," Adrian said. Fondness suffused their diaphragm, a warm wave that made their vents exhale too-hot ammonia. "Your... treatment... was effective."
"Yeah, we took our medicine," Ryland said, nodding. "Unlike someone else I could mention."
"...Good," Rocky said, but slowly, shifting on their patched-up leg. "What..."
"Okay," Ryland said. He put his palms together quickly, creating a sharp, percussive sound. "Here's the plan."
"Plan?" Rocky asked, wary.
"Yes," Adrian said. "We are friends now."
Ryland loosely pointed a thumb at them, as if to say, 'what they said.' "We're teaming up. You don't have a chance, so better not argue."
Adrian turned to him, affecting surprise. "Rocky not argue?!"
"I know, right? But he's outnumbered. By his own design, actually."
"Funny," Rocky said flatly. "What plan, question?"
"You're gonna listen to The Wedding of Clay 2, since you said it puts you to sleep." Ryland spoke with calm certainty. "And you'll take the medicine..."
"Supplements," Adrian said.
"Yes, those. And you'll sleep."
"Rest properly," Adrian said, pointedly. A stir of anxiety was trying to squeeze their gas bladders. "Sleep long."
Rocky was quiet for only a unit, but it seemed to stretch out longer. They were opening and closing one set of claws, too slowly to produce the little clicks that often announced that they were thinking hard.
"This is intervention," they said finally. The harmonies were narrow, bordering on discordant.
"Yeah," Ryland said.
Rocky shook themselves, an all-over tremor. A groan came out of them, tired and frustrated. "You both too nervous!" they snapped. "Worry worry worry, for what?"
They clicked three feet hard against the ground. "No panic. No problems. I am--"
"Don't say fine," Adrian said. It came out louder than they'd meant it to; Rocky and Ryland both winced.
"Listen," Ryland said. He'd put both hands up and spoke gently. The gesture looked soothing, conciliatory. "I'll come over. We can make a movie night out of it. Well, audio night. It'll be fun, you'll see."
"Then Adrian and Ryland watch Rocky sleep," Adrian said. They rested three claws on the door. "Sorry for shout. Will be okay, statement."
Rocky was silent. Their leg, the one that'd broken long ago and been splinted with a piece of their own carapace, was shivering. Ancients below, Adrian ached to touch them.
"Don't need," Rocky said. "Isn't... I'm--"
Ryland took a slow breath that shook a little. "Rocky, please?" he said. "For us?" And he made an approximation of the Eridian gesture with his long human arms: circling his hands around each other in front of his unevenly thudding heartbeat.
Rocky shrank back like Ryland had uttered curses. A low, upset noise wrenched itself from their gas bladders.
Adrian wasn't going to damage the suit by bashing their shell into the door until the xenonite gave way, but the urge was there. It felt like all their flesh clenched up, pulling their immovable carapace inward. They dug their claws into the floor, struggling to contain the tide of feeling.
Rocky hadn't yelled or stormed off yet. That was something. Their leg still shook. The flexible, segmented top of their body fluttered, sucking in cooler air.
The flat little gasps slowed, though. Adrian realized that air was passing through them, too: they were humming to Rocky, and Ryland was glancing around to see where the vibration that his ears couldn't pick up was coming from.
The sound settled Rocky. The tremble of their broken leg slowed, then stopped. Finally they said, "Ryland...?"
"Yes." Ryland smiled, though only with one side of his mouth. Some additional dampness had collected in his eyes. He hated watching Rocky struggle, too. "First name privileges. Since we're conspiring and all."
Rocky's legs stiffened in sudden realization. They clicked, getting a clearer impression through the door. "You two," they said, tiredly amazed. "You... have same sand in brains."
"Yep," Ryland said. His lips released a thin mist at the popping noise. "And you, sir, are gonna get some proper rest."
Rocky tilted their shell from side to side in a human head-shake, although they wilted forward in burgeoning defeat. "No..."
Ryland pointed at them again. "Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes," Adrian said, joining in, because they had a feeling the two would have kept that up for a while if no one interfered.
Rocky blew a prolonged, damp snort through his gas bladders. It was surly, not quite a string of curses.
Ryland was leaning over a bit-- not far enough to be condescending, but getting himself closer to Rocky's level. "We'll keep you safe," he said. "We'll both watch over you. Do you doubt Adrian's hearing, or my eyes?"
Rocky tapped one claw. Their tones were a mild dissonance, petty just for the sake of it. "Grace have faulty eyes, need lenses."
"That's beside the point," Ryland said, unfazed. "They'll listen and I'll watch. Nothing bad is going to happen. Not to you... and not to me."
From the way Rocky twitched, Adrian knew Ryland had struck true at the fissure. The human idiom was not so different: he'd hit the nail on the head.
Rocky cycled some more air through their vents. The pause stretched. The movement of Ryland's lungs shallowed. Adrian could sympathize; if they'd been subjected to the same gas-exchanging mechanism, they might have held their breath entirely.
At last Rocky drooped. "I open door now."
Whoosh went Ryland's lungs, around a deeper breath. His muscles grew softer, more absorbent of soundwaves as he relaxed. Adrian let their legs loosen. The tight, twisting sensation around their flesh eased.
They weren't sure what had done it-- if it was the quivering surface tension of the water in Ryland's eyes, or Adrian's soothing trill. But Rocky was... no longer protesting. Not snapping at them. It had been a mercifully long while since the word 'fine' had been said.
"Okay," Ryland said. His throat bobbed around a swallow. Strangely, that made some of the wetness in his eyes fade.
He took a step back from the door to give it room to move. "Do you want a hug when we get out?"
"No," Rocky said, sullen. But their claws were as nimble as ever, sticking various tiny instruments into the lock.
Adrian lowered the undertones of their hum. Rocky shivered as their back legs drooped, some more tension melting out of them. "Are you sure, question?"
"... No."
Ryland smiled. Adrian was still not entirely used to the monophone human voice, but he seemed to sound very soft. "Okay. We'll take it step by step."