Chapter Text
I could hear Rocky moving around in his xenonite tunnels.
I could hear Mary’s low, ambient hum.
I could hear my own wheezing breaths filling the otherwise quiet space.
I was lying on my back under the Good Fortune Quilt. I didn’t feel very good or fortunate. In fact, I felt pretty darn cruddy. I didn’t know the exact ins-and-outs of malnutrition, but I did know that alien microbes did not a balanced breakfast make. We still had a little under half a year to go until we reached Erid, and Rocky had assured me numerous times that the Eridians would do everything they possibly could to figure out how to feed me. At the time, I had grinned and shrugged it off, telling him I appreciated the sentiment. Now, though, I absentmindedly thought that I’d be lucky to see Erid out the window, let alone eat food from it.
We tried not to talk about it anymore.
We both knew my chances of survival were much slimmer than either of us would prefer, but what could we do except dream of the day when I no longer had to concern myself with calories or the pesky vitamins that my leaky body needed to thrive? Rocky did his best to keep me distracted in the few hours a day where I was awake. It began with banter, then trying to teach me Eridian games, then slowly evolved into singing to me and telling me all about the adventures we’d have once we arrived. I wasn’t fluent in Eridian yet, but I now knew enough not to truly rely on the translator anymore. In moments of particular exhaustion, I stopped trying to translate anything, letting his words and notes and chords wash over me like a lullaby.
He was happy to do it. After sharing a space for so long with him, I could spot the tells in his body as he grew increasingly concerned about me. A handful of months prior to now, he’d proudly presented a new xenonite suit, one that conformed to his body instead of leaving him at the mercy of a hamster ball. He was now able to help more on the ship, his dexterity not limited to a single panel of malleable xenonite.
Our first proper hug had been glorious.
Now, he often cuddled up with me on my cot, settling in at my side under my arm. He was so warm, and the weight of one or two of his legs across my empty stomach was enough to put me to sleep when combined with his gentle songs. That’s where I found myself now, lovingly pinned under my best friend’s limbs. I turned my head to face him, finding him shift in response to “look” at me.
”How you feel, question?” he asked quietly.
I hummed. “Been better,” I muttered. “Tired.”
”Always tired now.” There wasn’t any accusation to it. ”Worry, worry, worry.”
“I know, pal,” I said. “I just need a little extra rest nowadays, that’s all.”
”Is not all,” Rocky responded. ”Many more things beside.”
I huffed a laugh through my nose. We’d been getting much better at human colloquialisms, but sometimes we hit one we hadn’t discussed yet.
“Human saying.”
”Stupid saying.”
I closed my eyes as I weakly held him tighter.
”Grace sleep, question?”
“Not right now,” I said. “Just enjoying being together.”
Rocky tucked his other legs in further, nudging closer. He was like a space heater for my poor, cold bones. I never wanted to move again, perfectly content to remain here forever. My body, however, had different plans, reminding me of how much time had passed since I’d last gone to the bathroom. I shifted my legs, moving to get up. Rocky let me, moving to the floor. This was also a relatively new development – since building the new suit, he frequently kept at my side like a dog in case I needed any help. When not sleeping, he was either nestled by my feet working on his own project to pass the time or skittering through his tunnels alongside me, keeping me in “sight.” It was…nice, to feel this cared for.
As I stood on shaking legs, Rocky followed me to the bathroom. I’d long since lost any embarrassment about pulling my pants down around him. Not only did he truly not seem to care whatsoever, but he could “see” through my clothing anyway, so it was nothing he hadn’t already familiarized himself with. I was also too exhausted to give a darn. We made our way back to the dormitory where Armando waited with a cup of taumoeba, fresh from the tap. I took it, grimaced, and knocked it back like a shot.
A shot would’ve been preferable.
It stuck halfway down, causing me to cough rather violently in response. Rocky placed his claws on my leg as I hacked and spat. Once I finally regained control of my own breathing, I put my hand on top of his carapace. He led me back to bed, and I tried not to let my eyes water too much, the feeling of being cared for almost overwhelming. I laid back, closing my eyes and letting the drowsiness take me.
I felt Rocky settle in beside me. I let out a long sigh as my tired body sank as much as it could into the uncomfortable mattress.
___-___-___
If I had to describe my own emotions, it would be “volatile.” Gosh, how I tried to keep them all under control. But starvation and exhaustion really takes it out of a guy. I felt awful most days, and it wasn’t even completely the fault of the taumoeba. I was snippy with Rocky, snapping back at him frequently when I knew he was just trying to help. Each time, he assured me he understood, but it didn’t assuage my guilt. We sat holding one another for long periods of time as I came back to myself, listening to him shhh quietly against me. It didn’t really sound like a human shush, more like…waves, almost. At times, I would close my eyes and pretend I was sunning myself on a rock by the beach, fog rolling in and sand under my feet. The tears would come easily after that.
Rocky stopped calling me a “leaky blob” long ago. Maybe that’s how I recognized how worried he really was.
He never blamed me for my outbursts. He let me yell and cry when I needed to; I used to throw the occasional wrench, but I found myself too weak to do so effectively anymore. I was so tired. Despite my current nature, my friend always settled in next to me to watch me sleep. Nothing deterred him. He insisted, and who was I to fight? Later, I’d probably blame it on trying to respect his culture. But who was I kidding – I wanted my best friend next to me.
I drifted. I always drift now. Without warning, I felt Rocky’s weight disappear, and my body was tugged violently backward. I hit the ground, hard. I grasped at anything near me, my boney fingers gripping onto…grass. Dirt. Earth. My eyes snapped open. Rocky was nowhere to be seen, but what I did see…
Blue skies.
Green grass.
White clouds.
My eyes widened further as I felt the whisper of a breeze against my skin. I took a deep breath in. My body didn’t fight me. I looked down at myself to see my form was healthy again. When did that happen? When had my muscles returned? When had my hair thickened back out? Why was it so much easier to breathe? I took another deep breath in like an addict that hadn’t had his fix in too long. I gasped like I was dying.
…wasn’t I dying?
Was this dying?
Am I dead?
No, surely I can’t be. I can’t be. I’m so close to Erid. Rocky and I are almost home. I struggled to push my body up, my arms not used to pushing my own weight. I sat up, my spine protesting, looking down at the grass between my fingers. How long had it been since I’d felt true and proper grass? The last time I had, was a memory I refused to indulge. I looked up again, squinting against the sunlight. My body was drinking up the Vitamin D.
“Grace.”
I whipped my head around too quickly, the world spinning as I tried to reorient myself.
“Pull yourself together.”
I heard her, but I couldn’t see her. I shakily stood, slowly turning my body in all directions.
”Grace.”
“St-Stratt?” I cringed at my own voice, scratchy as it was.
“I didn’t take you as the type to give up.”
“Give up?” I called out. “I’m not-...I’m not giving-...” I was already out of breath.
“I did not leave humanity in your hands for you to destroy it.”
I frowned, stopping my movements. Clearly I wasn’t going to find her, so where was her voice coming from? “Destroy it?”
“Is asking questions all you can do?” Stratt’s voice said accusingly. “You’re smarter than that.”
“Where are you?” I finally asked.
“Earth,” she replied simply. “Waiting to die because you have given up.”
“I haven’t given up!” I spat back, growing annoyed. “I did what I was supposed to! I sent the Beetles back to you!”
“You were too late, Grace,” she said.
My blood ran cold. “I wasn’t,” I muttered. “I wasn’t!”
“You know I met with your class?”
That gave me pause. “...why?”
“They wondered where you’d gone,” Stratt said. “I told them you had to be convinced to help them; that you were willing to live so they would die.”
I brought a hand to my hair, pulling lightly. “You’re lying.”
“You know me by now, Grace. You know I don’t lie. I don’t mince words.”
”You couldn’t have told them that.”
“And why not? Should they not know the truth?”
“That’s not the-” I paused. I wanted so badly to deny it, but isn’t that exactly what happened? “That’s not…”
“A majority of them did not make it.”
I looked up into the sky.
You know I don’t lie.
“I don’t believe you,” I said.
You know I don’t lie.
“I know. I’m not asking you to.”
You know I don’t lie.
“I don’t believe you!” I shouted. I’d had enough of this. “Are you gonna help me or continue to be some weird vague voice from the ether?”
“You’re beyond help now.”
My insides suddenly felt awful, like someone had torn most of them out of me. I hunched over and took a step back, as though that would help. The sky flickered. The grass flickered. My own body flickered. I squeezed my eyes shut against the pain and confusion of it all. When they opened, I was staring up at a familiar xenonite barrier. Rocky was gently moving his arm along my torso.
”Grace?”
I jolted, gasping for air. This air was not as fresh or as easy to come by. My lungs screamed as my breathing quickened.
”Grace!”
Rocky stood, moving so he could lower his body onto my chest. His legs held him high enough that he wasn’t crushing my delicate ribs, but the pressure was enough to ground me. I took deliberate breaths.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
I realized my cheeks were wet. I must’ve been crying in my sleep. Could that have even been categorized as sleep? If it was a dream, it felt too real.
”Grace awake, question?”
I nodded weakly. “S-sorry, Rocks,” I managed.
”No apology,” Rocky replied. ”Safe now.”
“Safe now,” I repeated.
Rocky purred in agreement. I took stock of my body. I was back in the malnutritioned version of it again. I frowned at myself. I resigned myself to lying there until some kind of biological function forced me to get up, Rocky a comforting presence against my chest.
___-___-___
I was exhausted beyond belief. Any “sleep” that found me was now full of my students’ faces as Stratt explained what had happened to all of them, sometimes in grave (ha) detail. Rocky often had to wake me, dragging me from the nightmares that left me a crying, leaky mess. I dreaded the times he had to sleep. He didn’t have control over it, and we both knew that, but it didn’t make it any less distressing. Rocky’s inconsistent sleep cycles were how I ended up where I was now, shaking and gasping, sitting on the floor with my back against the wall. I refused to look down. I refused to look at that fucking *box.*
I had found it by accident. I forgot I’d even moved it, all those years ago. I didn’t want to be faced with it every time I wanted to reminisce about my crewmates while gently looking through their packs of personal items. I had placed it on a shelf, out of the way, out of sight, out of mind.
It was in sight now. It was very, most definitely, in mind.
I knew, logically, what heroin looked like, but seeing everything needed for injection right there in black and white stunned me. I didn’t get out much in college, sue me. The visual of the syringe next to the actual heroin and other components provided for Ilyukhina was jarring; this was how she planned to die. But the heroin kit was nothing compared to what remained next to it.
A gun.
Yao’s gun.
I wasn’t asleep this time, but I could’ve sworn Stratt’s voice filled the otherwise silent space.
Coward.
Your students are dead because of you.
All of us are dead because of you.
I brought my hands to my ears, as if that would really help. I wanted Rocky. I needed Rocky. But he was dead to the world a room over, and would be asleep for who knows how much longer. It was time I didn’t have, especially when dangerous thoughts began creeping in.
What if Stratt was right?
What if I was too late in sending the information back? What if escaping to Erid was another cowardly way out of facing reality? No, no, it was that or starve to death. But I’m starving to death anyway. How many of my kids starved to death?
My thoughts began working overtime.
I was never the right man for this job. I was the afterthought; there wasn’t any other choice. I’m the real Hail Mary.
My foot pushed the box away and I heard it clatter against the opposite wall with a loud bang that exacerbated my already throbbing headache. Everything hurt. Why did everything hurt now? I wanted the hurt to stop. I’d do anything.
I’d do anything.
I’d-
I’d do-...
I’d do anything.
My head lifted from where it had been sitting in my hands. My hands didn’t feel real anymore. I stared at the box in front of me. Before I could protest, my shaking limbs dragged my weary body to it, grabbing the small firearm. It was heavier than I anticipated. It was almost unassuming.
I’d do anything.
It fit beautifully in my hand.
I’d do anything.
It fit even more beautifully in the indent of my temple.
I’d do anything.
My finger rested on the trigger.
I’d do-
*click*
Silence.
Only silence.
Not even Mary made a sound.
Aside from that little, innocuous *click.*
Suddenly, silence no more.
The quietness of the ship was shattered alongside my scream of fear. I used the strength I had left to throw the gun as far as I could from myself, hearing it fall and slide somewhere out of sight. My exhausted legs scrambled to push me far from the Suicide Box, my back slamming into the wall opposite where I’d been sitting before. The breath knocked out of me as I placed a hand on my frantic chest, feeling my too-quick heartbeat under my fingers.
Still beating.
Still there.
Of course it wasn’t loaded. Why would Stratt pack it already loaded? I had even seen the little pack of bullets lying next to it in its box. I really tried not to think about how there were precisely three of them. I pressed my palms into my eyes, gritting my teeth against my own wailing.
Oh, God.
Oh, God.
I’d just tried to kill myself.
What if Rocky had found my body?
At that thought, I wanted nothing more than to see him, even in his unconscious state. Standing as fast as my body would allow, I used the wall for support as I limped back to our shared sleeping quarters. He was inside his tunnel, curled like a cat, peacefully asleep. At least, I assumed it was peaceful; I guess there’s no way I’d know if it wasn’t. I slumped to the floor, my shoulder pressed against the warm transparent xenonite. I wish he’d wake up.
I didn’t want to be alone.
I didn’t want to be alone on the same ship that contained very effective means of ending my own life. I knew I had to tell him, once he woke. Even if I wanted to keep it from him forever, he could read me like a book. I closed my eyes.
I’d tell him when he woke.