Chapter Text
Five days until they arrived back at the Blip A and it was a bad day. Both of them were still recovering from their injuries and, despite Grace's insistence on working on the taumoeba experiments, Rocky was fairly certain that if there was anyone of any species with medical training on board they would both still be on healing leave. Possibly they would both be hospitalised, actually. Even Grace's good arm was still clearly causing him significant pain every time they stretched too far or knocked it against something, and the other arm – the one that Rocky couldn't stop listening to, the one that was almost completely covered in rough, crackling bumps and pits – was much worse. Grace didn't use that one at all if they could help it, but kept it tucked away. Rocky didn't think that the cloth coverings as much as Grace claimed they would. Rocky didn't think that Grace had been supposed to stop the painkillers so fast, but they made the human brain stupid, and Grace needed to fly the ship, do the science, clean out the fuel tanks, fetch the beetles, and save two planets, while Rocky sat in their ball and watched. They built whatever Grace needed and said words of encouragement, and that was the extent of their usefulness.
And they were cold all the time, a sure sign that they were still recuperating. Quietly, they remembered Galen, the chief medical eridian on board, telling their cautionary tales about what could happen to eridians who weren't careful with their experiments. One story that had been told when Gerty, the youngest of the science eridians, had grabbed an unshielded astrophage container with their bare claw, leaving it lightly cracked and aching for hours. Galen had made sure that the whole ship could hear as they told them about an industrial worker they'd once treated who had been exposed to a temperature of -40°. The details had been gruesome. Their blood had frozen in their veins, expanding beneath their carapace and cracking them open from the inside so their organic inner flesh was forced out through the gaps. They had survived, but apparently they'd never fully regained themselves. Their mind was damaged and they were changed, a stranger to their own mates.
Compared to that 22° was nothing of course, although they had been on fire at the same time which was another one of Galen's cautionary tales, with an even worse ending. Still they wondered if Adrian would find them a stranger, when they finally made it home. Even if the cold hadn't damaged their mind, maybe their long isolation had. They didn't know. But they were cold all the time now, and they knew what that meant more clearly than they ever had before.
Grace was staring at the breeder tanks again as though they could speed up the process by willpower alone. They got like this when they were very focused on their work. Rocky had once spent several hours seeing how close they could get without them noticing. The answer was apparently that they could lean their ball right up against Grace's leg, and Grace wouldn't even stir.
That made it a good time to ask questions that they didn't want Grace to think about too hard. “What human do when cold, question?”
“Uh, I don't know, buddy. Turn the temperature up, I guess.”
“What if temperature isn't wrong. What if you are wrong.” They tried to keep their voice at an even pitch and volume, but judging by the way Grace's heartrate spiked as their head snapped round towards them just the words had been alarming. Rocky should have known; they had both been a little on edge since everything that had happened over Adrian-the-planet.
“Wrong how? Wrong like sick? Are you sick?”
“Not sick,” Rocky said, rolling their carapace a little in equivocation. “Not sick sick. Recovery still. Cold still. Inside.”
“Oh.” Grace breathed out slowly and their heartrate slowed slightly. It was still faster than it had used to be though. Something else that had changed since Adrian. “Well, for that a human would want to get ɔoƨγ.”
“Not know word.”
“ɔoƨγ? It's like being warm, comfortable and relaxed. Might involve thick, soft clothing, hot drinks – yeah, I know you don't get the appeal – curling up on a soft chair in front of a roaring fire - “
“ - NO FIRE!”
Grace stumbled back at their shout, obviously as taken by surprise at their volume – their intensity – as Rocky themself was, and it was all Rocky could do to trill out a warning as Grace's foot tangled in the leg of the lab chair, sending them crashing to the ground, letting out a shrill yelp as they instinctively reached out with their bad arm to catch themself.
There was a long moment of cold, dead silence. Grace stayed lying on the floor, tears already leaking from their eyes.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Rocky hummed, starting to roll over before backing up, not wanting to crowd Grace or get in the way, not wanting to make things even worse.
“'s okay,” Grace said, voice low and hoarse. “I'm fine.”
Not for the first time Rocky wondered if they had the right translation for the word 'fine', or if Grace just used it wrong. “Grace hurt. Rocky scare Grace. Rocky hurt Grace. Bad, bad, bad.”
Grace pulled themself up into a sitting position with a lot more effort than Rocky liked to see. It reminded them of the way Grace had moved under the heavier gravity, and they hated it. “Not bad, nothing's bad. And I wasn't scared, just startled and clumsy. Let's face it, I hadn't tripped so far today so this was overdue.”
“Grace clumsy,” Rocky said to be obliging and complete the bit, but it wasn't amusing like it normally was.
“Besides,” Grace went on after a slightly awkward pause. “I scared you first. Sorry. I should have known better than to suggest fire. It's not comforting on a spaceship.” They shifted slightly so they were leaning against the lab table and shuffled along a bit so there was a Rocky sized gap beside them.
They wanted more space from the scary, stupid space monster that had hurt them. That was understandable, but it still made Rocky feel even colder.
“Rocky overreact like a pebble. Grace go see Armando question? Grace heartbeat too fast and leaking too much.”
“Leaking...what?” Grace turned to look at their arm quickly. “I don't see any blood.”
“Not blood leaking, sweat leaking. Stress. Pain. Bad, bad, bad.”
“Oh. That. Yeah, I guess. I'll go get checked over in a bit, but I don't think there's anything else he can do. It's hurting less already.”
Grace's heartbeat was calming again, though they were still holding themselves stiffly, their shoulders hunched. But Rocky didn't feel like they had any right to push right now. They were the one who had insisted that if Grace was going to work they needed to not take the drugs. Something else they'd done wrong.
“What would a doctor do for you being cold while recovering back home?” Grace asked, tapping the flat of their hand against the floor beside them as they spoke.
Rocky imagined explaining to Galen that they'd deliberately put themself into an oxygen rich atmosphere, chilled to 22°. “First, call Rocky dumb. Then tell to rest. Spend time with Adrian. Spend time with cluster friends. Thrum together in volcanic sauna. Wear thermal recovery clothes.”
“I didn't get all of that, I'm sorry. But you said there were special clothes to wear when you're sick?”
“Cosy. Do not have. Medical eridians had some on board ship but all gone now.”
The first of the crew to fall ill – Galen themself, Kupe the navigator, little Gerty who had been the fifth to get sick but the first to die – had been dressed in the thermal recovery clothes to keep them warm and safe, as they withered and slowed. They were still wearing them, back in the medical compartment on the Blip A, which Rocky had soundproofed thirty years back in an attempt to hide from their silent recriminations. They were sleeping. They were not watched.
Grace gave a low hum of sorrow and Rocky knew they understood. “How about the heat lamp I fixed up? Would something like that help? Or white noise on the laptops again?”
“Don't know. Don't think so.” Don't care. They were cold. They deserved to be cold and they could deal with being cold. Their mission was nearly complete, after all. Once Grace managed to create Taumoeba 82 and they bred up a decent supply they'd be parting ways forever, and then Rocky would only have to spend ten years alone in cold silence before they would be home.
Only ten years. Then home, to find out if they had changed beyond what Adrian could accept.
But they couldn't say any of that aloud because Grace mustn't think for a moment that Rocky would ever regret giving up six years for them. They didn't. They could never, even before Grace had gotten hurt saving their life. But it was a long time. Cold. Alone. Silent.
“Grace go see Armando while Rocky eat. Then Rocky sleep. Grace watch, question?”
Grace's eyebrows wrinkled up. “Of course I'll watch you sleep, pal. You don't even need to ask. You've been sleeping more often though. Is that normal for recovery?”
It was normal for recovey, but also could be the new normal for injuries that were as recovered as they were going to get. Rocky didn't know which this was. They'd been badly injured before when their leg had split, but they'd already been alone then and they didn't know how long and how often they'd slept after. They hadn't cared to keep track even as they could hear the echo of Galen scolding them, turning them into a cautionary tale about what happened to eridians who neglected their health.
“Yes,” they said anyway. It was technically the truth and if Rocky wasn't going to make a full recovery then Grace would never know anyway. They didn't want to give them human anything else to obsess and spiral over.
They ate quickly. It was even worse than usual. Somehow the food felt cold inside them, like they were pushing frozen water inside themself. Disgusting.
For once they couldn't wait to sleep. They wanted a chance to wake up with all the distress chemical markers washed out of their system. They tapped their claws together intently. Sleep, with Grace watching, then wake in peace and calm, and least until the next disaster.
They managed to sing out a soft watch-me-sleep to Grace, sitting on their bunk looking at the laptop, arm freshly rewrapped, quilt draped over their shoulders.
And then nothing.
And then...nothing. They woke sluggishly, feeling sick and stupid and cold, cold, cold.
No. No, no, nonono that wasn't right. That wasn't how it was supposed to work. That wasn't right.
They screamed, and Grace dropped the laptop on the floor and rushed over. “What? What happened? What's wrong?”
Rocky threw themself against the xenonite barrier between them, keening in betrayal and anger. No, no, no. They'd thought Grace was kind. They thought Grace cared about them. “Grace not watch? Why Grace not watch Rocky sleep? Why leave Rocky alone?”