Chapter Text
Dr. Ryland Grace was enjoying his day off.
It was still morning, so he was sipping his cup of coffee as he sat in one of his chairs, wrapped in his colorful quilt. He held a tablet in one hand, using it to read one of the thousands of books available to him. It was quiet in his home- peaceful and cozy, just the way he liked it. He expected to be alone most of the day, since Rocky mentioned having things to do today. He wasn’t sure what, but it’s not like Grace knew every single thing Rocky got up to.
Rocky had a job, after all.
Of course, that wasn’t to say that Grace didn’t. Of course he did. He was teaching the next generation of Science Eridians(tm), and he couldn’t be more proud. They were quick learners, thanks to the Eridian’s near-photographic memory. He should probably spend some time coming up with his lesson plan for his next class.
One more chapter, then he would do his lesson planning. He was too cozy to move.
Alas, the universe rarely let him stick to his plans.
All of a sudden, a frantic knocking sounded at the door. Grace jumped at the sound, accidentally splashing coffee on his t-shirt. He huffed and set his mug down on the table after shrugging off his quilt. He would have to wash his shirt quick before the stain set, but the knocking at his door was oddly urgent. He figured it must just be Rocky, but if that was the case why was he knocking so hard? Then again, who else would knock on his door like that?
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Grace called out, shaking his head.
Yeesh, for a species that lives for so long, Rocky sure could be impatient.
Grace realized he had the tone all wrong as soon as he opened the door. He stood in the doorway, staring down at something he thought he would never see again: Another human, being carried by several Eridians- including Rocky and Adrian- each in their own xenonite suit.
“Grace move! Need Grace medical room, statement!” Adrian chimed.
Grace shook himself out of his sudden-onset stupor and jumped back to give them room, hurrying ahead of them to clear off the medical bed and tell Armando to get ready for a new patient. He stepped aside to make room for the Eridians to lift the human (!!!) onto the bed. Grace felt dizzy as he stared at the man, watching as Armando put an oxygen mask on him and got to work treating whatever he was equipped to.
“Where- how-” Grace was stammering, barely able to comprehend what he was looking at.
Who he was looking at.
“Engineer Eridians do repairs on space elevator. Rocky with them. Saw metal tube nearby, used robot to retrieve it. Find human inside,” Rocky explained, pacing in his Xenonite suit.
The teacher fell back into a nearby chair, staring at the only person he’d seen in over 20 years. He had a rugged look to him, with gnarled black hair and scruffy facial hair. He had lesions on his skin consistent with radiation poisoning, as well as several cuts on his face. His Grace assumed he must have some head injury, considering how much blood was matted in his hair.
He was the most beautiful person Ryland Grace had ever seen.
Grace didn’t realize how much of a stupor he was in until Rocky said something about the mystery man missing an arm. He jolted up and snapped back to Armando cutting the man out of his shirt and revealing a bloodied stump where the man’s arm once was. It was jagged, almost like it had been bitten off by a shark or something.
Grace had to fight to keep his breakfast down.
The stranger’s sleeve was tied off just under where his arm was cut (bit?) off, and judging from the wad of bloodied gauze that Armando had removed, it was a wonder that he was even alive. The medical bot had it wrapped up in fresh gauze and bandages before Grace could even recover from the nausea he felt at seeing such a grotesque wound.
“Can human survive with one arm, question?” Rocky asked, skittering uneasily back and forth.
He could probably hear how hard Grace’s heart was beating, and how differently the stranger’s insides must sound as his body fought to repair itself.
Grace pulled his glasses from his face, letting them dangle off one ear as he ran a hand over his face. “Uh.. well, hypothetically. It’s possible, but the rehabilitation can be difficult. I’m also not sure how well we could take care of someone as injured as he is,” the scientist explained, his arms crossed over his chest as he shifted anxiously from foot to foot.
Rocky moved forward and lightly bumped against Grace’s leg, a motion meant to offer comfort.
”Science Eridians read human medical information. Find way to fix human. Grace have human friend,” Rocky hummed at a frequency similar to a purring cat. He managed to figure out that was the best frequency to comfort Grace at some point, and, annoyingly, it worked like a charm.
Grace rubbed at his eyes, trying to keep himself together. He couldn’t get his hopes up. This person was in critical condition. He had survived who knows what, and was now on an alien planet without a single human doctor. Adrian was probably the closest they had, as the leading Eridian expert on human anatomy and physiology- probably coerced into the role by Rocky in case anything happened to Grace.
Even so, reading every human medical textbook couldn’t replace all the other training doctors go through to be able to treat patients. Maybe having five hands could compensate for some of that training, at least.
“Grace leaking. Why, question?” Rocky asked, tapping his foot twice.
“I never thought I would see another human again, can you blame me?”
Armando retracted and announced he’d done what he could. Grace stepped forward, surprised to see no bandage around the injured man’s head. He tilted his head, looking up toward the robotic arms.
“Armando, why didn’t you bandage his head?”
“No wound detected.”
“Even with all this blood?” Grace questioned.
“No wound detected.”
Grace frowned in confusion. He turned and found a bowl to fill with water, as well as some towels the Eridians managed to make for him (they really could make anything). He kept one over his shoulder, and wet the other to wash the blood off his skin and out of his hair. He didn’t have a hairbrush he could use, but he was sure Rocky could make one.
His hands shook as he reached out toward the other. He hesitated, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. He hadn’t touched another person in at least 20 years now- and the last people he had touched were basically mummies. Before that was when he was being pinned down and sedated before the Hail Mary launched.
In all honesty, he’d forgotten what it felt like to touch another person.
Get ahold of yourself, Ryland, he thought to himself, shaking his head.
“Rocky help Grace, question?”
“Actually, I could use something to brush his hair,” Grace said, looking over at Rocky. He explained what a hairbrush and a comb were, and asked if that was something he could make.
“Rocky can make anything, statement. Grace will be okay while Rocky gets xenonite, question?”
“Yeah, I’ll be okay. He’ll probably be unconscious for a while,” Grace told him with a nod and a smile he hoped was reassuring.
Rocky clicked his fingers together and paced a moment, before chiming in affirmation and heading for the door.
Grace was glad for the privacy. He set one hand on the bed holding the unconscious man, trying to wrap his head around this turn of events. He felt almost afraid to touch this other person- as if it would break the illusion, or he would wake up from the dream. It wouldn’t be his first time dreaming about other people, of course. He was able to mostly meet his social needs with the Eridians, but even when he was sleeping next to Rocky there was always a thin window of Xenonite between them.
Could you really blame Grace for being thrown into mental turmoil in this situation? It was taking everything in him to not buckle at the knees. He held onto the edge of the table, staring down at his scruffy beard, his wide nose, his long lashes. He had half-healed cuts and bright pink scars cross-crossing his skin.
Finally, Grace managed to collect himself enough to start wiping blood from his skin and hair. He made sure the water was warm, but he realized it probably didn’t matter much. The blood was already dried and flaky so he figured it shouldn’t be too hard to wash off his skin but that would make it harder to clean and brush his hair. He’d have to figure out some way to wash it properly before brushing it.
The second the damp towel touched the man’s skin, however, his dark eyes shot open as he gasped in a breath.
Grace yelped and jumped back, tripping over himself in surprise.
The stranger yanked off the oxygen mask, attempting to get up before being overwhelmed by dizziness and falling back.
“Wait, it’s okay! It’s okay! You’re safe here,” Grace said, holding up his hands in the universal (for humans, at least) signal for surrender. “No one is going to hurt you here.”
The man was propped up on his elbow, looking over at Grace with wide, frenzied eyes.
Grace saw a storm in them. A beautiful, ferocious storm.