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When Grace had first awoken on the ship, two of his crew had been labelled as deceased. When he went to investigate the sleeping pod above Commander Yáo it had been labelled as ‘quarantine’ with a thin plastic barrier having been raised, preventing him from taking a peek inside. Armando strongly advised against waking you, practically prying the man away from the seal. You were in a delicate state, or at least the ship believed you to be, continuing to maintain the induced coma until well after Ryland had become acquainted with extra-terrestrial life. He still talked to you though, out of habit. He couldn’t remember you at first, nosing through your stuff helped, but it was still scrambled eggs up there.
He was attached in a way, you might not be awake but you were a warm body that held the possibility of soothing his isolation. Rocky was great but tip-toeing around certain words or phrases in exchange for understanding one another was exhausting. You even had a photo of him in your luggage, it was a group photo, he wasn't next to you and there were about twenty other people featured within the frame. But, at least you were familiar with him. Grace hoped so anyways.
He needed a hug, a real one.
“Eye movement detected.”
Brightness blinded you from above as you blinked away a glacier of at least a decade's worth of sleep dust. Everything was so heavy, like a lead blanket cementing you to the mattress. You could hear the same sterile voice repeat itself over and over, not satisfied with your dazed silence as it slowly pulls out the feeding tube from your stomach. “What is one plus one?” The thing clogging up your throat is removed also, followed by more noise, more questions. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth, swiping at the claw above, it dodges the attack. So you’re forced to roll over, half a body limp off the side of a bed, ejecting its sustenance to splatter on the ground. Some drools from your nose, all you can taste is the vomit as another wave of nausea hits you.
“Incorrect. Contaminant detected.”
The arm takes you by the hood of the sleeping bag, momentarily choking you in its pursuit of getting you back onto the table. It is then you realise the plastic body suit underneath that is against your bare skin. You are in your underwear, in a plastic bag, in a sleeping bag. Looking up, you find your crew’s beds empty. Still waking and confused, mouth too numb to focus on words just yet, you try to say something. Only resulting in uninterpretable babble, the frustrated tears do little to help the situation. After all, shouldn't people be here, helping?
“GRACE. HUMAN. Human awake, awake!”
You hear an echoing tumble towards you from the other end of the ship, the voice was unfamiliar, giddy. “Grace! Come. Come. Come.” You were relieved, happy to be heard and have someone answer. They were safe, so others survived with them. What you weren’t expecting when they turned the corner was a large angular hamster ball barrelling towards you. Speaking too. “Hello, my name is Rocky. Rocky is my name. Statement”
You parroted the word back best you could, tongue still feeling limp, “state-men. Tuh.” You tried at least, continuing to attempt a pencil roll to freedom and proper clothes, determined to peel off the damp plastic bodysuit. “Human slow, brain damaged in sleep. Sleep damage brain, question?” Your eyes had trouble focusing on what you were looking at, the lights reflected off the ball’s surface, spreading out like a star across your vision.
Ryland followed soon after, sprinting into his now co-surviving crew member, mid lean. “I’m here, what - Woah. WOAH, hey.” He was panting, hands on his knees, catching his breath for a moment. Wiping his nose he takes a step forward, you shimmy back, forgetting about the limited width of the table. “Nope, maybe don’t do - yeah, that. Okay.”
You fell.
“Umm, Mary.” Grace hadn’t get taken in the fact that he was no longer alone, unable to really look at you, choosing to pace back and forth the room instead. “Please return to the table, Doctor. Body is not yet fully functional.” Rocky approached the liquid, melting across the floor. Poking at it with his claw through the permeable window. “Squidgy secretions, humans much disgust even after eat.”
“No, Rocky!”
The ship wasn’t as you remember. In the most polite terms, Grace lived like a pig in a pigsty, somehow Rocky was the clean freak roommate for having standards. Though Grace did try to keep you confined to the med bay to buy himself time for a quick clean up, more so just shoving everything in random drawers and various containers. He was praying for any space God to strike him down when you found a pair of his boxers on the floor of the lab. It’s not like Rocky even knew what they were.
“So you remember everything?” Grace had brought you your storage bag, with some folded clothes on top. You were eternally grateful, it only slightly disturbed you that Rocky could see through walls while you were sleeping or changing. “Don’t you?” Your crew mates were waiting on the other side of the room for you to finish changing in the sleeping bay. “No?” Ryland had explained his situation to you, but you could only offer so much information, you were familiar with each other but not close enough for you to know much about his personal life. Rocky had taken a liking to Grace’s friend.
“Doctor is smart, Grace is stupid. Stupid. Stuuupid.”
“I’m a Doctor too.”
“Doctor isn’t actually my name, Rocky.”
You were the Flight Engineer, so when you saw the primary command centre you were not pleased. “What the hell did you do to my ship?” Climbing into the pilot seat, you move forward, then back again. Reaching to the left and then the right. Scowl planted heavily in your features with enough definition Rocky could see it. “Did you - You fucked with my seat settings? Come on, man.”
“Pilot detected.”
You adjust the ship's rotation with ease, scrolling through the map to figure out where in the journey you were. “New human good pilot, Grace bad. Bad. Bad.” Smiling down at the ball pressed up against the side of your chair, your mood shifts completely, “thank you, Rocky.” Despite the lack of face or eyes, you could feel how intensely the alien was watching your movements. Grace was busy pouting. “You can’t have a favourite, that's not fair, I steered this thing with minimal training.” Huffing out a laugh, you dismiss his fears of you stealing his hat bro.
“It’s not favouritism.”
“Then why does he want you sleeping closer to the dome?”
“I’m the better view.”
That was also a new development, sleeping together. Not together together, obviously. Grace would probably collapse in on himself if you ever even joked about it, so you saved him the embarrassment. But it was nice just being close to someone, especially after learning about your passed comrades. He was the only human within reach, a part of you wanted to believe you’d still find him this attractive on earth as well, instead of a massive doofus. Cuddling took your mind off it, having created a tangled nest of sorts next to Rocky’s enclosure you and Ryland shared every night.
It was just routine now.
“Ry?”
You’d cornered him in the observation lounge, It was set to the beach loop again. “Are you done bullying me now?” Grace was only half joking, you joined him, placing the coffee mug next to his knee. “It wasn’t bullying, and I've got an apology.” You added four sugars, just how he liked it. “Accepted.” On your way up from standing you stop by his ear, mumbling, “you’re a nice view too.” The man sets down his cup, looking at the cream as it mixes in with the steaming brown drink. Stalling.
“What.”
“Bye.”
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
“Rocky.”
Making a quick exit, you almost trip over the alien in the hallway. He was making small dolls, two of them. Holding hands. Like how Grace does when you sleep, arms wrapped around you from behind and resting over your stomach to feel you breathing. “Rocky was sleeping, eyes closed. Statement. Deep unconscious, not listening.”