Chapter Text
To say Grace was anxious would’ve been an insult.
A pit had opened in his stomach, reaching far deeper than his hunger ever had, and it felt like bugs had crawled under his skin. It was impossible to stay still, but each squirm made his abdominal muscles seize and flutter.
“Grace not eat in at least eight hours, question?” Rocky asked, giving two taps to the floor as he fiddled with the medical instruments on the surgical tray. Grace was confident he wasn’t lucid anymore, because he didn’t even remember where, or when Rocky had retrieved the tools. They were probably Armando’s, but.. since when did it have such serious equipment?
In fact, he wasn’t even sure how Rocky was height level with him right now. Maybe a stool from the lab. He was in too much pain to really think on it for too long.
“You know I haven’t.” He said, swallowing the minimal amount of spit in mouth, attempting in vain to moisten his dry throat. He hadn’t drank in more than eight hours either. “Nothing will stay down… You’ve seen it.”
Whatever internal regulations Rocky had put on how the tools should lay had seemingly been met, and his limbs fell back down, landing with a gentle noise. “Yes yes. Rocky know. Standard medical question. Try to make process feel more normal.”
Grace somehow had the energy to let out an amused snort. “Nothing about this is normal. I’m about to let an alien do surgery on me.” He sighs, and allows his eyes to drift upwards until he’s staring at the panels on the ceiling.
His first ever surgery. Done by an alien. A super genius alien with incredible dexterity and even better memory, he reminds himself.
His eyes flit back to Rocky, who seems to be tinkering with something just out of Grace's sight.
“Best friend alien.”
Grace smiles, and for some reason, it feels a bit solemn. “Yes. My best friend.. who happens to be an alien.”
Mary’s sounds are constant background noise. Distant beeps, or the whirr of their life support systems. It fills in the silence. It’s never completely quiet on the Hail Mary.
Except right now, it’s suffocatingly so. Grace is too exhausted and scared and in pain to notice the atmospherics. Instead, all he can hear is the silence. And the rushing blood in the ears.
Rocky’s song cut through it just before Grace could start properly panicking.
“Grace ready for medicine, question?”
Grace's hands, which had been fidgeting on his stomach, suddenly froze. Fear grasped and squeezed on his forearms, his shoulders, his damp neck.
He tried to respond, but just a small noise came out. He was being dramatic. It was nerves over nothing. This was fine. It was all fine. He could trust Rocky.
Rocky made a questioning sound, this one holding more worry to it, and Grace forced out an answer.
“Yes. Yeah. Hit me.”
Rocky’s legs straightened in alarm “Would never hit Grace! Not when so vulnerable, at least.”
“No, no. that was just, just a human expression. Grace forced out a chuckle, straining his face into a smile.
“Oh.” Rocky’s carapace dropped down slightly as he relaxed. “Okay. Understand..” He sang slowly, but clearly something was on his mind. He paused for an uncomfortably long moment, and Grace squirmed in place.
“Grace okay, question?”
“Yeah! I’m just...” His eyes flitted over the room. Over the bright lights, over Armando, to the medical tray next to him— and every muscle in his body stiffened. “Just nervous, is all.”
“Grace okay.” Rocky assured, placing a xenonite covered hand on Grace's forearm, and he tried not to flinch. Rocky must’ve seen his muscles briefly tense, because he retracted his hand immediately. He made another low, questioning warble, and suddenly Grace just couldn’t take it anymore.
“I’m scared of needles.” He blurted out. “Like- really really scared of needles.”
Their hands were on his back. His wrists. His neck. Their knees dug into his shoulder blades and calves.
He clawed at the damp grass, grime forcing its way into the crevices under his finger nails.
They were murdering him.
Only wisps of clouds blocked out the sky. It was a surprisingly warm day, and the breeze carried that clean, amazing after-rain smell. A rainbow arched overhead, just peaking above the barbed wire fence.
He felt a prick in his neck, just barely there. He hardly registered it over his own screaming, and the pain of being pinned down.
They had caught him. They had caught him and sunk their teeth into him. They were going to tear him apart.
“Hm. Rocky understand.” He shifted beside the bed, and his claws had stopped playing with the item Grace couldn’t see. “Research says most humans are.”
Grace swallowed, and simply nodded, but he couldn’t stop thinking. He was dying. They had sent him up to die, but by some miracle— called Rocky— he lived. Yet, he was still just going to die because of some part of his stupid human biology decided to give out—
The words came out before he could overthink how pathetic or melodramatic they were. He was desperate to just stop panicking.
“Will you talk to me?”
“I—I mean.” Ryland sputtered for a moment. “In-in humans, we’re social creatures.”
“Rocky know this already. Eridians are too.”
“Socializing can release reward chemicals in our brains. It makes us happy.” Grace didn’t know where he was going with this. “And—and, before being put under, the doctor usually talks to the patient b-before. Or well, during them passing out. It—it keeps them calm so they don’t go unconscious while panicking.”
“How Grace know, question?” Two gentle taps right next to Grace's ear made him jump. “Said never has had to do this before.”
“It, uhm,” He wanted to wipe the sweat off his face, but he couldn’t find it in himself. “I’ve watched shows about medical procedures and… stuff.”
“There are shows? Can watch, question?”
“Yeah, bud! Of course—of course we can.” He smiled at Rocky. His friend. His best pal. His world— because, well, to be frank, he barely remembered anything outside of Rocky. Other than the set up for the astrophage mission, and that hadn’t been the best time.
His vision blurred with tears. “One of my favorites was House MD, but..” He trailed off, the wobbly smile on his face fading. He was stalling.
Grace let out a shuttering breath, and looked up. “Okay— we really have to do this. Just, keep talking and don’t tell me when it’s in—“
“Is already in.”
Grace's eyes widened
“What?” He asked. Glancing down, he saw the needle stuck into his arm, tube attached leading off to the IV bag hanging above the improvised medical table.
“Oh.” He said dumbly, before taking a sharp inhale. He let his arms fall to his sides and focused on his breathing rather than coursing panic going through him. “Okay. Just—“
He closed his eyes, jaw clenched. He could hear Rocky chittering to him, but he couldn’t make it out over his own heart beating.
He was stupid. Not for trusting in Rocky’s abilities, no, but why the hell would he ask him to talk if he won’t even try to make out what he’s saying? He was so ignorant of——-and everything came back to him all at once.
He wasn’t in the room he had just been in. Actually, he wasn’t sure where he was. The walls were light blue, with lumps of whites that fuzzed around the edg— clouds. They’re clouds. It was blue and cloudy all around him. He was in the sky. He would say he felt like a bird soaring, if his body wasn’t so heavy.
He was laying on something squishy and soft. Feeling around slowly with a palm, he realized he laid many things, actually. Pillows and blankets galore. Almost like some strange bird nest.
Before Grace could think about it, he moved his hand to cover his face, chest rumbling with a pained groan. He felt a pinch at his wrist, and he winced.
He lifted his opposite arm—which felt dense like it was filled with rocks—and blindly reached. He felt something skinny and unbelievably smooth that connected with his wrist, and yanked.
“♫♪♩?”
Something pinched at his arm again, harder this time, and a sound scarily close to a whimper of a pained animal left him. He kept a firm grip on the thing on his hand, and his shaking hands brought it up to his face.
“♫♪♩!”
He blinked a few times, attempting to clear his bleary vision. He twisted the item around between his fingers until it became clear what it was. A needle—with a tube attached?
An IV. It was an IV line. Was he in a hospital? He couldn’t… he couldn’t remember.
“GRACE!!”
“AH!” Grace let out an embarrassingly shrill scream, nearly jumping out of his skin. The IV clattered to the metal ground, and he craned his neck upwards towards the source of the sound.
Something brown with splotches of green stood above him. It was a blob. A fuzzy, fuzzy, brown blob, and Grace swore that clouds weren’t meant to be brown, or have five legs, or admit whale song. Clouds were just, well, clouds
It reached one—his fuddled mind came up with the word claw for some reason— claws out, and Ryland’s brain was too slow for him to flinch back in time. Grace felt it pull something down from his forehead, and suddenly everything came into focus. He felt his entire world view alter with the newfound sight.
“Oh.” He blinked at the realization of what— or more like who— stood above him, and that it was not, in fact, a strange brown cloud.
“Hey, Rocky.” He said, adjusting his glasses, settling them properly over his nose.
Grace couldn’t describe the shift that went through Rocky, but it was definitely there. He seemed to stand higher on his limbs, and Grace's brain landed on the fact his friend seemed surprised.
“Grace!” He twittered happily, gingerly stepping over him, until his limbs were on either side of his torso, his fifth positioned between his legs. “Grace recognizes Rocky, question?”
“Wha—? Of course, buddy.” Grace said, shifting slightly. Properly being able to sense his groggy body now, Grace can feel how his back was being supported by numerous pillows, while others sat below him to act as padding between his body and the metal grate floor of the Don’t Go Crazy Room.
He blinked a few more times to get back his bearings, and was suddenly excruciatingly aware of how bright the screens were. He sunk back into the cushions, and covered his eyes with one hand. “D’ya think you can turn these off? God, they’re really making my head ache..”
“But Grace asked for this?”
“Huh?” Grace pried his eyes open to look at his best friend, and quickly had to scrunch them back up as the light hit them again. “I don’t.. remember that. Can you just turn them off?”
Rocky moved fluidly behind Grace, who heard the sounds of a keyboard clicking as his best friend worked on the computer. After a brief few moments, the sound of the screens deactivating in quick succession, filled the room and the light beyond his eyelids disappeared. Grace exhaled deeply, rubbing at his eyes a few times, before finally opening his them, finding blissful darkness.
Now with his bearings (mostly) back, he took a moment to look around. To the side of the room seemed to be some type of improvised workstation. Rocky’s xenonite making gloves laid on a low, makeshift table, while a mess of xenonite bits and bops, plus his laptop surrounded it. But other than that, and the mess of pillows he sat on, the Don’t Go Crazy Room was unchanged.
Rocky strode back over into Grace's view. “Grace feel okay, question?” He asked, stamping twice.
“Yeah.” Grace responded quickly, before thinking better. “Well, I’ve been better. But it probably could’ve been worse.”
Rocky let out a few quick notes. “Yes, yes. After human cut open, usually hurts. Human saying, ‘take it easy.’
Cut open? Was he talking about surgery? Oh shit, right! Surgery!
Cautiously, oh so cautiously, Grace brought his shaking hands to the hem of his shirt.
Rocky shifted beside him, the movement almost anxious like.
Grace slowly lifted the cloth away from his body.
“So,” He began slowly, staring at the clean, white dressing tapped onto the right side of his abdomen. Bruises painted the skin around it yellow and purple, and Grace knew he’d be feeling that sooner or later. He glanced back up at Rocky. “You did it, then?”
Rocky perked up, and two of his claws came up to fondle nothing in front of him. “Yes yes.” He affirmed. “Normal procedure. No complications at all.”
Grace smiled, relief making his fingers warm and tingly. “Good good good.” He said, letting his shirt drop back into place in favor of giving Rocky two thumbs down. The Eridian immediately returned the gesture.
He glanced back down at the edge of the dressing he could still see.
“Well. I think I’m the first person to get surgery done by an alien.” He said, before pulling his shirt back over the wound.
Rocky chittered softly, something akin to a laugh. Grace was pretty sure was just doing it to appease him. “Grace go through many firsts.” He said, scuttling back over to his workstation. He quickly slipped the gloves back over two claws, and loafed onto the floor, then began the intricate process of weaving together strings of xenonite. “First and only human to save the universe. First and only human to learn how to breed Astrophage. First and only human to make contact with sentient alien life.”
“And now, first and only human to have his appendix removed by an Eridian.” Grace couldn’t help but laugh at the insanity of it all. His brain still felt awfully slow and loopy. He looked back over to Rocky, watching his claws move fluidly as he see together the xenonite. It was methodical and mesmerizing in a way that made his thoughts go quiet. For the time being, Grace was content to just sit in the silence.
“So,” he eventually spoke. “How long was I out for?”
“Approximately three point five earth hours.”
“Huh, really?” Grace tilted his head, eyebrows furrowing. “I mean, I thought it’d be longer than that.”
“Surgery was finished one earth day ago.” Rocky said, almost absentmindedly as he continued to work on the 8th pulley. With a slight flare— Grace didn’t know if it was needed, or if it was just Rocky’s showmanship— the Erdian finished off the last stitch in the xenonite. “But was awake two times since then, not counting now. Just very, very confused.” He set aside the pulley, and his hands lowered slightly.
“Oh.” Grace said dumbly. He would guess that would make sense. “Anesthesia can do that to humans. And if you gave me any pain medication, that could’ve contributed, too.”
“Rocky knows.” The Erdian chimed. “Anesthesia mess with signal in electric human brain. Understand had possibility to make Grace confused. So, make Grace as comfortable as could. Still, In earth terminology, Grace ‘freaked out’ when first woke up. Almost tear stitches! Bad bad bad.”
“Oh.” He repeated. It felt like his brain was overheating. He hoped he didn't have a fever anymore. He wiped at his cheeks, as if that would make the flush go away. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t remember any of it.” Grace chuckled, but even he could admit it was half hearted.
Rocky let out a concerned warble, and Graces playful grin faded.
“Was not good. Calmed Grace down until started sleep cycle again, then moved to Don’t Go Crazy Room because know Grace like. Grace miss Earth, so put on forest. But when Grace wake up, Grace leak and complain about missing the open sky. Put that on.” Rocky’s vents moved up and down as he spoke. His claws began to work dutifully on the next xenonite pulley. “Grace never awake longer than two thousand eight hundred seconds. And was never not confused.”
“Buddy…” Grace swallowed thickly, sputtering for a moment as his brain scrambled to grasp for the right words.” I’m—I’m sorry.” He felt guilt creep under his skin, even when he knew it wasn’t necessarily his fault. Still, Rocky shouldn’t have had to see all of that.
Rocky shook his carapace. “No.” He said, with surprising firmness. “Grace said would die without intervention, Rocky intervened. Aftermath is Grace confused and scared. Rocky help. Is not Graces fault.”
Decidedly, Grace disregarded the way that made his entire body light up with tingles, and how his chest squeezed. He ignored how Rocky’s words brought up memories of him calling off work for days on end because he was too sick to move. Visions of him slumped on his bed came to mind, a trashcan next to him with his favorite TV show in the back, or a book in his hands.
In all the fuzzy, vague recollections that flashed in his mind did he ever share his sickly misery with another. He was always alone.
“Uhm,” He glanced down, twisting and pulling against his fingers in an outlet for his nervousness. “Well, thank you, buddy. For taking care of me.”
Rocky chuttered quietly. “Always will, Grace. Confirmation.”
Grace snorted. Confirmation. That was a new one. He smiled, and sunk back into the pillows and blankets situationed around him. His eyes drifted down to the IV line that he had ripped out, and he frowned.
“Sorry about the whole, uhm,” He picked the tube up gently between two fingers, holding the needle away from him. “This whole thing.” He held it in front of him, before realizing for Rocky to ‘see’ it, he didn’t need to, and allowing his tired arm to fall down again.
“I don’t know if it was impor-.”
Rocky interrupted him with a quick exhale out of his vents that sounded much like a human huff.
“Rocky already said is okay. Grace need to be sorry about nothing. Was just fluid and medication, anyway. For better healing. Why does Grace always apologize, question?” Rocky asked, the air moving quicker out of his gas bladders, making his song high and quick in a way Grace knew was either frustration or annoyance. He couldn’t tell right now.
Grace exhaled heavily, and let his head fall back onto the pillows. I feel like I have to. He wanted to say. You shouldn’t have to deal with my crying or screaming or snarkiness. You don’t deserve to see any part of me that isn’t perfect.
“I don’t know.” He replied instead. “The human psyche isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be, I guess.”
“Mm. Do not understand. Human idiom, question?”
“It means like.. ugh,” Grace picked up his head and propped his glasses onto his forehead. He rubbed his eyes furiously as he thought, as if that could unscramble his brain. “Yeah. It’s an idiom. It means basically.. like the human mind isn’t as good as it seems to be.”
“Human brain does not seem that good in the first place.” Rocky said flatly, slipping off the xenonite crafting gloves and setting them on the ground. He got onto his feet—claws? Limbs?— and began to walk towards Ryland. “Almost my sleep cycle. Grace watch, question?”
Grace pushed his lips out in a pout. “After that comment, I don’t think I should.”
Rocky froze midstep, two limbs up in the air, and when Grace finally caught up with what he said, he tensed.
“No—sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean that.” He held up a hand in a pacificatory gesture. “A joke. That was a joke.”
Rocky let his limbs fall back down slowly, before suddenly slamming them the ground. “Bad bad bad joke.” He huffed out of his vents, but he still continued his way over.
For some reason, Grace got the strong urge to draw angry eyebrows on Rocky’s xenonite suit, and the thought almost made him double over from chuckling. He wished he had a sharpie.
Man. He was still absolutely out of it, wasn’t he?
“Grace stop moving.” Rocky chirped, though Grave could barely hear it over his own restrained laughs.
“Grace stop moving statement. Rocky need to see insides clearer. Grace stop jerking shoulders, instruction!”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry-“ Grace quickly gasped out, taking in a few short breaths in an attempt to steady himself. “‘M sorry.” He wiped his eyes.
Rocky shook his carapace in a way that reminded Ryland much like a mother shaking her head at her disobedient child. It almost sent Grace over the edge again.
Once Grace had properly stilled himself, Rocky reached out a claw to lift the hem of his shirt. Barely, just barely, the flat of his square finger brushed against Grace's tender skin, and his stomach twitched inward suddenly. Pain shot out from his stitches, the already tight skin being pulled taught with the movement. Grace winced.
Rocky pulled back as if it had burned “Apology apology apology! Grace hurt, question? Rocky hurt Grace?”
“No! No, it’s okay.” Grace reassured. “Just— didn’t expect it. Just startled me, is all.” Actually, the touch itself didn’t hurt in the slightest. It was his midsection spasming that did the trick. The area around his abdomen was so sore, tight, and Rocky’s suit was so warm. “It didn’t feel.. all that bad, actually. Your suit is really warm.”
As Grace spoke, Rocky slowly, oh so slowly—like Grace was made up feathers and would blow away if he moved too quickly, kind of slow— reached forward to lift up his shirt again. He began to admit low clicking sounds, similar to dolphins back on Earth, to map out Grace's insides.
Through the noises he admitted, Rocky asked, “So Rocky did not hurt Grace, question?”
“No. It was just unexpected, and I’m still pretty sore. That’s all, promise.”
Rocky didn’t answer right away, instead letting out a wordless hum. He was seemingly putting all his focus on viewing the inside of Grace.
Grace swallowed nervously. “So, uh, how’s—how’s it looking?”
Rocky hesitated, before pulling down the hem of Rylands shirt, “Is all fine.”
Grace let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Good.” He said. “Good, yeah. That’s good.”
“Yes. Rocky did good job patch up Grace.”
Grace let out an amused huff, but he wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t a master at surgery obviously, but Rocky knew his own abilities. Sure he was cocky, and sometimes overly rude, but he usually meant it if when he said he did good.
“Yeah. Rocky did good. Thank you, buddy.”
Rocky didn’t answer, and if it wasn’t for his supernatural hearing abilities, Grace would’ve thought the Eridian hadn’t heard him.
Rocky hesitated where he stood next to Grace for a moment, before shifting his limbs in a almost nervous manner. “Grace said Rocky not hurt, question?”
Grace’s eyebrows furrowed, and he hoped, really hoped he hadn’t accidentally distressed his best friend too much. The way he fidgeted made him think he had.
“No! Buddy, of course not. You—“
“Rocky made pain better, question?”
Grace’s mouth hung open for a moment, before he stammered out. “I guess.. a bit? The warmth of your suit kind of helped the muscle soreness…You didn’t hurt me, Rocky. I really don’t want you to-“
“Rocky know that.” A huff of steam came from Rocky’s vents, the vapor cascading around Rocky’s carapace as it hit the inside of the xenonite suit. Grace's mouth snapped shut. After a brief pause, Rocky continued. “…Rocky sleep beside Grace.”
Grace blinked, wordlessly watching as Rocky spun in a circle, stamping down the blankets and pillows. He took a moment to rearrange them, before settling down. Grace could feel where the xenonite suit was gently resting on his lower abdomen, but not on the stitches— or even the bruising for that matter, but near enough that the warmth overridden the deep seated, aching pain there.
“Are you sure?” Ryland asked, though one hand went to rest on top of Rocky, gently rubbing the smooth xenonite. “I mean, I know how vulnerable Eridian sleeping is— and, and you usually have that stand-like thing you sleep on-”
“Rocky do not mind.” Rocky cut in, scooting a bit closer to Grace. With how close Rocky was, he could probably hear every single thing going on in his body right now. From his blood rushing to whatever was up in his nasal cavity.
Maybe it comforted him, Grace speculated. The moment Rocky woke up, he’d be able to discern if anything had went amiss inside Ryland while he was unconscious. Plus, it wasn’t like Grace was complaining about what was essentially a space heater right up next to his aching midsection.
“Grace already let Rocky see Grace in unguarded positions many times. Allow Rocky to play around in insides. Grace trust Rocky that much, Rocky trust.”
The aliens wording really should’ve grossed Ryland out—and don’t get him wrong it sort of did—but it also made something warm and fond pulse in his chest. Him and Rocky had been through so much, and more was to come with Grace’s food stores dwindling by the day. This situation was just another layer added onto their delicious trauma cake.
“Yeah.” He sniffled, trying desperately to keep the tears at bay. “I trust you, Rocks. A lot lot lot.”
Rocky hummed, and a light, soothing vibration coursed through Grace. “Trust Grace too, statement. Goodnight, friend Grace.”
“Goodnight, Rocky.”