Chapter Text
"Okay, Rock," Grace clucked his tongue, absentmindedly poking at the mysterious mush that was supposed to be his dinner. The package had insisted it was 'exceptionally creamy' dehydrated 4-cheese mac and cheese, but he doubted its contents could really be considered food outside of the most bare-bones, technical definition of the word. Frankly, the color alone should've been a warning—the bile-esc yellow added a certain... je ne sais quoi to the semi-coagulated, lukewarm, weirdly oily....... Eugh. Okay.
Grimacing, he finally set the package aside. "You've made your point. But if we're going to decide English is an inefficient language, I think it's only fair the council take a look at Eridian as well."
"Eridian perfect, beautiful, statement." Rocky placed two of his limbs in front of him and perked his head high, almost like he was boastfully puffing out his chest.
"But that doesn't mean it's efficient."
"No! Perfect. Beautiful."
Grace lazily spun himself around on his chair. Around. And around. And around. "Those two things aren't even mutually exclusive."
"No no no. Not matter."
"Oh-kay," Grace let out a great big sigh, as if dealing with Rocky's stubbornness was the single most tiring thing in the known universe. Which, honestly, sometimes it was. However, their dinner time arguing had become something akin to a beloved tradition, and he'd be lying if he said he'd have things any other way. Banter, even if it was occasionally very childish, very stubborn, kind of annoying banter, would always beat eating alone by millions of cosmic miles. "How would you fix it, then?"
In lieu of an eyebrow, Rocky quirked his... Well, everything. "Fix what, question?"
"English."
"No need fix. Eridian exist. Speak Eridian instead, statement."
Grace threw his arms and head back in mock defeat, finally letting the grin he'd been fighting back for the past twenty minutes or so make itself comfortable on his lips. "Of course! Why didn't I think of that?"
"Mm, I did." Rocky tooted matter-of-factly.
"You've done it again, Detective Pebble."
Letting out a whistle of indignation, Rocky rammed his ball into the side of Grace's chair. Its wheel caught on a ledge in the floor, unceremoniously tipping over and sending its snickering occupant spilling onto the ground. "Grumpy. Angry. Stupid. Mean to Rocky! Rocky toss Grace out big big space, statement."
"Statement?? Listen here, sir," Grace rolled onto his back on the floor and crossed his arms over his chest, scoffing. "That was a full-blown threat! You practically made an attempt on my life."
"No understand word."
"Uh....oh, threat, right. Threat, something said with the intent to cause harm, like, let's say... Rocky toss bestest pal Grace out into big big space. That is a threat." He listened as the little alien let out a low hum, followed by the clink, clink, clink of his ball rolling across the floor. Sure enough, a second later he was staring down at him. Err... Metaphorically.
"Mm. Deserve."
"Hey!" Grace reached out and flicked Rocky's enclosure as his chittering, melodic 'laugh' filled the room. A second later, he settled down on the ground, placing his head next to Grace's as if to snuggle through the glass. Sometimes Ryland really wished they could actually cuddle. It'd still feel like hugging a rock, of course, but there was something rather impersonal about hugging someone through a barrier. Likely, uh, the barrier.
Everything about living in space was rather impersonal, now that he thought about it. His closest friends outside of Rocky were robots, the walls were stark white and padded, his "bed" resembled a rather futuristic coffin... He usually tried not to linger on those kinds of thoughts; how suffocating it felt to fall asleep in a glorified box. How cold it felt sometimes, how alone he was, surrounded by beeps and whirrs and the vast nothingness of space, boxed and shipped out like equipment.
Grace held up his hand, tracing the outline of his fingers, watching how the light seeped through the skin and made its contours glow a nice pinky red. Sighing, he interlaced both hands, running his thumb over his knuckles.
It wasn't the same.
"Grace, question?"
The little sequence of chirps had become so familiar that Grace didn't even really need the translator to know what it meant. He glanced up with his eyes, humming. "What's up?"
"Rocky not throw Grace big big space, bad bad bad bad. Only joke, statement." Even though the translator didn't do the best job at showing it, Grace could hear how Rocky's notes strained with unease. The corners of his lips quirked upward, though he fought to keep his face as neutral as possible. The last thing he needed was for Rocky to think he was making fun of him for worrying.
"I know, bud. Only joke."
"Mm. Joke joke."
A comfortable silence fell over the room. Grace let his eyes wander, lazily, slowly, taking in the details of the Hail Mary like he'd done a dozen times before. Button, button, lever, button, alert message, button...
His brows furrowed. Wait. Alert message. Specifically, an alert message on the transceiver monitor, which he didn't actually remember ever seeing lit up before. They didn't exactly receive a lot of messages, after all. He sat up, wordlessly reaching over and tapping the screen. "...Huh. That's weird."
"What weird, question?" Rocky asked, perking up.
"Mary picked up some kind of signal, but I didn't hear a notification?" Some more poking around revealed very little, no message, no coordinates, nothing. Not even an error message. Grace tried to ignore the small pit of disappointment that grew inside his chest. It was a fleeting, split-second possibility, and yet it was enough to spark a little hope. Silly. If only he hadn't finished off the vodka.
Rocky shrugged his limbs. "Lost radio wave. Error. No stress."
Sighing, Grace nodded. "Right. No stress."
"...Grace ok, question?"
Again, he nodded, trying to look a little perkier this time. Rocky hummed in a way that told him he didn't entirely believe him, but thankfully, he let it slide. For now.
"Grace sleep. Rocky watch. Tired, dumb."
"Ehh... I'm not too sleepy yet-"
"Bed bed bed. Grace stubborn, listen to Rocky! Bed-"
"Rocky, c'mon," Grace chuckled, wincing a little as the alien's chirps grew louder and higher pitched. "Hey! I know... I know I say that a lot, but I took a nap earlier, remember? That's why I'm not sleepy."
Rocky paused for a second, considering Grace's words. "No no no, not enough. Human frail, need sleep, help sad, statement."
"I'm not sad!" Another unconvinced hum. "When's the last time you slept, anyway?"
Silence. Rocky hummed, thinking. Grace shot him a pointed look. "That's it. You sleep, I watch."
"No! Grace leaky space blob, need sleep, Rocky sleep later, statement-"
"Lalalalalala, nope nope nope nope, nuh uh, you sleep." Grace walked around the room, playfully running away from Rocky as the little alien attempted to run his ball into him. "I'm not giving up on this one, pal, better give it a rest. Better, uh... Put this one to bed, buddy. Sleepy, sleep jokes. Woo."
Rocky stopped following, eyelessly staring at him with what felt like mild disappointment. Grace sighed out a snort, shaking his head. "Trust me on this one. You need rest too. I'll go to sleep as soon as you wake up. Deal?"
He received a grumble in return, which he chose to interpret as Rocky agreeing. "See? Was that so hard?"
"Grace quiet, statement."
-----
Silence. Perhaps the single most abundant thing in space and a regular resident at the Hail Mary. Well, before Rocky arrived, that is.
Moments like these, when it was just him sitting alone with his thoughts and the faint sounds of Mary's inner workings for company, brought him back to the first few weeks of being conscious, when everything was equal parts new, exciting, and paralyzingly terrifying. Sometimes Grace found himself missing the perceived simplicity of that time—there was something kind of appealing about being a blank slate, without guilts or disappointments or horrific traumas to worry about. At the same time, he was rather sure he'd take being shot point-blank than relive any of those memories.
Grace hummed to himself as he scribbled away in a notebook, Rocky's sleeping form sitting nearby. He had taken to scribbling down thoughts whenever he had the downtime. Which, admittedly, was often. Perhaps some would call it journaling, but he personally thought his notes were a little too ugly for that. More like scrapbooking, if it were only done with pen or pencil and also looked... Uh... Bad.
Charming.
The alert from earlier still lingered at the back of his mind. What Rocky said was likely true; it had probably been nothing other than a stray... Something... Messing with the system, but...
"Man, what the..heck...." Grace pinched the bridge of his nose, grumbling softly. His glasses hung precariously from one ear, threatening to clatter to the ground at any moment. Why was this bothering him much? He'd made peace with the fact it'd likely just be the two of them on that ship until they made it to Erid... Right? "For god's sake, get it together."
'Unknown signal detected.'
...
W h a t ?
Grace damn near gave himself whiplash from how quickly his head snapped up to look at the monitor. No. No way. It couldn't be.
'Coordinates, unknown. Transceiver origin likely. Transmission setup available. How would you like to proceed, Dr. Ryland Grace?'
"Uh-" His eyes immediately darted over to Rocky- Goddamned rock, of course he was asleep now! Practically jumping to his feet, Grace approached the monitor to take a closer look. Maybe he was hallucinating. Maybe he was finally going crazy.
And yet, there it was. A system notification for an incoming transmission.
"Mary, patch the transmission through, please. Quickly."
'Very well, Dr. Ryland Grace.'
"Please just call me Grace."
'Very well, Dr. Grace.'
At first, there was nothing but static. For a few seconds, which might've been the longest seconds Grace had ever experienced, there was no comprehensible sound outside of the fuzzy feedback of an unstable connection. Grace furrowed his brow, trying desperately to make out something, anything at all.
Little by little, the signal cleared up enough to where he could just start to make out the sound of something...?
No.
Someone... Singing?
There was definitely someone singing, quietly, to themselves, and the occasional 'thump' of things being haphazardly moved around. The voice was surprisingly deep, rich despite the slight robotic quality caused by the feedback. Grace couldn't make out most of the words or if they were even in a language he could understand, but honestly, it sounded... Nice. Lovely, even. He could picture the voice crooning old ballads in a small dive somewhere, or maybe selling him some kind of artisanal beer or something.
His heart rattled in his chest as the singing continued, suddenly keenly aware that he probably needed to say something. It'd been so, so long-
"Uh- Hello?"
Almost immediately, the singing stopped. Grace found himself missing it. Just a little bit. Seconds ticked by in silence, the world seemingly frozen in place, before he finally caught the person saying something that sounded a lot like 'What the fuck?' before everything went quiet again. He stood with bated breath, hoping, praying that he hadn't scared the voice off.
A clatter of something falling on the ground, heavy, clumsy thuds that sounded like heavy boots hitting metal, static...
Grace tried again. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
Then, clear as day,
'Hello...? Are.. who... who are you?'