Work Text:
“Need word.”
It's the first morning after Rocky finally woke up from our Adrian adventure, which means it's also the first morning since that day that I've been neither sleep deprived nor hopped up on pain killers.
(Me and Rocky have already had a discussion about the wisdom of overriding the computer's carefully programmed medical decisions whilst “stupid”. I'm back on the recommended dosage.)
Rocky was actually pretty understanding about the whole “forcing my brain and body past their limits whilst actively responsible for the survival of two planets all because I didn't want to take a nap” thing.
And about the “sealing the mission critical samples in a box without giving myself a way to take off the lid” thing.
And even the “spending days on end constructing a complicated plan to blow the scabs off his wounds while he's healing” thing, which is definitely the main thing I'm mad at myself for.
But leaving those mission critical samples at human room temperature?
Especially when Rocky has just had such a vivid object lesson in how harmful my environment can be to life that isn't evolved for it?
Yeah he's clenching three of his fists, his carapace is lowered and he's swaying from side to side in the way that means he's trying to get as clear a picture of me as possible with his echolocation. The Eridian equivalent of staring daggers.
I think he might actually have growled at me when he realised what I did.
“Grace. Anger. Need need need word. Lots of words.”
I suppress a wince. “Sure bud, just let me get my laptop.”
I consider pretending that I can't find it as a way to put off having this conversation, but Rocky can see through walls and I stupidly left the laptop on one of the empty bunks in the bedroom.
Way to go, past me! Why couldn't this be one of the times that you left it lying on the floor, or dropped some of your laundry on too of it?
I head back to the lab, sit at the table, open the laptop and turn to face my angry Eridian roommate. “Alright. Shoot.”
Rocky pauses in his swaying while he ponders the best way to insult me. “First word,” he says. “Person who does stupid, stupid, stupid things. Things like leaving important science things in dangerous human temperature statement.”
“Hey, just because it's dangerous to you, doesn't mean-“
“Give word now.”
“Ugh, fine.” A career of eavesdropping on conversations between middle schoolers has left me with a few pretty fun and creative ways to express that particular sentiment, but I decide to go with the simplest translation. “Word is: idiot.”
“Good. Useful. Will use often. Eridian word is 🎶🎵.”
I dutifully type it down. The moment my fingers leave the keyboard, Rocky is ready for round two.
“Second word: word for describing person who does things like idiot, not because stupid as in mind not work, but because choose to not think. Example: choose not to sleep when know sleep is necessary.”
Again, there are a few options running through my head, but darn it, if I'm going to have to provide the vocabulary to facilitate my own chewing-out, then I'm at least going to keep things PG. “Uh, probably foolish. Word is: foolish.”
“🎵🎵🎶-🎶🎵.”
I type.
“Third word: person who does things that are danger, while being stupid about consequences. Person who leave science samples out in open when know we almost die trying to get them. When know that Earth die and Erid die and everyone die die die if we don't find answer but not take time to be safe.”
I put my head in my hands and sigh loudly. Rocky might not know much about human anatomy, but boy can he go for the jugular when he wants to. “Word is… reckless,” I decide, not bothering to move my hands from my face. Not like he can't hear me. “You want to call me reckless.”
“Yes. 🎶🎶🎵. Tell thinking machine.”
I'm suddenly having a flashback to my second year of teaching, when I got summoned to the Principal's office after one of my experiments in class caused a (minor, teensy, barely dangerous) explosion that required a visit from the fire department.
Also, for some reason, I'm reminded strongly of Stratt. I don't have any actual memories of her giving me a proper dressing down, but I guess, given how long I worked on the project with her, I probably screwed up majorly at least once. Maybe more than once.
“Grace forget how to type, question?”
“Right, right. Sorry.”
I type in the new word.
“Final word”— oh thank god— “person who is given important job but does not do it. Person who should not have important job because won't do it.”
Oof. I don't know why, but that particular definition hits me like a punch to the gut. “Word is…” I trail off, thinking.
“Grace!”
“Just gimme a minute, Rock. There's a few different options.”
“What are options, question?”
“Uh, okay… so the first one is untrustworthy.” I grimace. “Describes somebody who says they will do something and then deliberately doesn't, because they want things to fail.”
Not the best definition, but what am I? An English teacher?
“Second word is: irresponsible.” And yeah I have quite a few memories of that one.
“Means… someone who doesn't think things through, someone who won't do the important thing because they forget or don't think. Third word: incapable. Someone who won't do the thing because they are literally unable to do it.”
Another flashback, this time to a particularly nasty argument with one of my ex-girlfriends. Pretty sure it was the argument where she decided to becomemy ex-girlfriend.
Christmas Eve, would it be so hard for the high tech amnesia drugs to space these things out a little?
Rocky hums in thought. “I like second one. Doesn't think. Eridian word is 🎶🎶🎵🎵🎶🎶-🎶.”
I type it out and set the laptop aside. Might as well get this over with. “Alright Rocky. Go ahead.”
Rocky takes a breath.
“Grace is STUPID STUPID STUPID reckless, foolish, irresponsible IDIOT IDIOT IDIOT statement.”
Alongside this tongue lashing from a being who doesn't actually have a tongue, I'm treated to the full Eridian threat display of shaken fists, stomping feet, low growls and aggressive puffs of hot ammonia from the top of his carapace.
Hey, I'm the first person to get chewed out by an alien. I'm gonna add it to all my other firsts. Technically I must be a multiple world record holder by now.
“You done?” I ask when he looks like he's winding down. “Feeling better?”
“No.” He pauses. “A small amount. Still anger.”
“I'm sorry.” I deliberately lift my head up so I'm looking him in the carapace, both because it feels more honest and because I know that looking down makes it harder for his sonar. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. I screwed up. I should have done better.”
“I sleep to heal,” Rocky says, quieter now, “and when I wake up, Grace is tired, sick, stupid. You almost ruin sample. Make us have to almost die again. How can I sleep if this happens question?”
God I'm an awful friend. And coworker. And scientist.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” I repeat. “It won't happen again. Sorry I stressed you out when you're still healing. I was bad bad bad.” Maybe we should open the laptop back up and add a few more words so I can apologise better. “I promise not to do anything else important while sleep deprived. At least not without talking to you about it first. And I promise not to override the computer about pain meds.”
Realistically, I don't think I can promise to never be sleep deprived again. I could barely manage that back on Earth.
Rocky raises his carapace a bit. When he speaks again, his tone is calmer. “Not bad bad bad,” he says. “Stupid stupid stupid. Tired. Foolish. Idiot. Need new word.”
“Aw, c'mon Rocky-“
“Is last new word. Promise.”
I open up my trusty laptop and prepare to get roasted by an Eridian.
“Word for when someone does something that is stupid or bad and you feel anger, but then they give words of apology, say won't do it again, try to fix, so no more anger. Friends friends friends again.”
Oh.
“Forgive,” I say, typing it in. “Word is forgive.”
“I forgive. Forgive Grace,” Rocky says. Then adds, because he is physically incapable of not sassing me, “Grace cannot help being stupid space blob. Not every species can be cool space monster like Eridians. Sad.”
“Hey!”
“Go eat.” He's all business again. “Tired, still healing. Should eat gross human food.” He waves an arm to shoo me out of the room. “I get container open. When you come back, it will be ready for you to do science. Go eat!”
He waves his arm again. I head for the door. “Alright, alright! I'm going!“
“Eat fast!” he calls after me as I leave. “When you finish, we save Erid, save Earth, save everyone!”
“You got it bud!”
I sure hope it's that easy.