Chapter Text
When Grace awoke it felt like he was choking, gasping for air. He tried to sit up and cried out. He fell back, chest shuddering with exertion.
Holy fudge that hurt.
He felt like an elephant had stomped on his ribcage- or better yet maybe Rocky had.
Breathing was impossible, each inhale felt like fire, but not breathing made his tired mind scramble to stop suffocating. The air in the room felt too thin. Where was the air? Why couldn’t he just breathe?
Why did everything hurt? He glanced around the room, his vision blurring at the edges- he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He was in his house, on his bed. Why was he in his house? Hadn’t he been with his students? When did he end up in bed?
He heard a trill to his right. Rocky. Rocky was here. That was good, maybe he knew why he felt like he’d been steam rolled. Maybe he could tell him how he’d ended up in bed.
“Grace, question?” The trill had a strange vibration to it. Grace wondered what that meant. He tried to move his head to see where Rocky was, but even that much movement felt impossible. God he was tired. Breathing still felt impossible, like a weight had been tied to his lungs.
“Y-y-yeah,” Oh that hurt too. His throat felt like sandpaper and speaking was harder than it had ever been. It felt like forcing sand through a straw. How long had he been out? It hadn’t felt that long.
“Grace! Good, good, good,” Rocky came into Grace’s blurry view.
He looked- tired. He rolled slowly, xenonite barrier catching on small gaps and random objects around the ship. His carapace looked more worn than he’d remembered. What had happened?
“Wh-,” he coughed, trying to clear his throat and nearly sobbed in agony. Shi-shingles that hurt. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears. Why did breathing hurt so much? Rocky reached out as if to help. Why did his chest hurt so much? “Wh-what happened?”
“Grace rest. Grace sick. Bad bad bad.” Rocky trilled slowly. Grace attempted a nod. That made sense, but how did he get into the house?
“Y-yeah, it’s… not fun,” Grace wheezed, chest still aching profusely. “H-how b-bad was it?” He asked, not sure he wanted the answer.
“Grace fall. Rocky bring Grace to Armando. Armando fix. Grace sleep for many days. Rocky watch. Grace still sick. Armando try to fix. Grace sleep more. Rocky not know how fix. But Grace awake! Is good good good. Other Eridians now make Armando fix more good.”
Oh that wasn’t good. Rocky had brought him to Armando. He’d only needed Armando’s help a few times- each time had been a pretty close call. He wondered what exactly he’d gotten sick with. He remembered thinking he had a cold and then he’d been teaching his students and then… he couldn’t remember. Why couldn’t he remember? And what did Rocky mean “other Eridians now make Armando fix more good”?
He supposed what Rocky said sort of explained why he felt so awful and it explained how he’d gotten into the house. That didn’t really explain why his ribs felt like they’d been curb stomped or what Rocky meant about the other Eridians and Armando.
“W-why does my ch-chest h-hurt so much? He asked, a hand shakily coming up to land on Rocky’s warm xenonite suit. It felt nice. He was surprisingly cold. He’d been too hot before. He had a fever then- probably.
Rocky froze, carapace going still. He pawed at the ground a few times before talking.
“Armando break Grace bones… Armando break Grace bones so Grace heart beat still.” Rocky rumbled after a moment. His words were slow and cautious. His carapace turned toward the ground.
Oh.
It broke something in Grace.
His heart had stopped beating and Armando had brought him back.
His heart had STOPPED beating.
He’d almost died.
He’d almost died! He’d almost died and hadn’t even known it.