Chapter Text
It had been a long time since Ryland Grace had last seen another human. So, when one washed up on his artificial beach on Erid, he thought he was going crazy.
His first instinct was to walk back to his house and pretend he never saw it.
Then, he thought maybe it was a dream and he thought it was strange that he was dreaming of a random person washing up on his alien beach. He wondered for a minute what that would mean if it was a dream. What did this mysterious person represent? Who were they supposed to be a stand in for? Had he really been missing Earth more than he thought? And if that were the case, this was a bit of a strange way for his subconscious to relay this information.
Finally, he considered the more likely possibility that it was not a dream, that the person was real and that possibility led to a whole host of new questions and concerns. A whole lot of concerns.
In that short time that he was thinking about what to do, when what he should have done was gone back into his house, the body moved. Not by much but it was enough to notice in the corner of his distracted vision.
Grace looked back at his house, closed his eyes for a long second before he opened them again and shoved his hands in his pockets. Slowly he approached the body and as he got close, he immediately regretted his decision.
He gagged, hard, nearly throwing up his freshly eaten breakfast. Burnt copper. The thick acrid smell of blood hung heavily around this anomaly of a person, and it wasn’t a mystery as to why, as the man on his beach was covered in blood.
Grace used his arm to cover his nose and slowly, hesitantly crouched down to get a better look. The stranger had long hair that was clumped in congealed blood, his clothing seemed to be made from some kind of canvas-like material, he couldn’t determine the color as they, much like everything else on this man, were covered in blood, and he noticed, the most obvious feature of the stranger, he was missing an arm. Without even fully thinking, he reached out to touch him, careful that his movements were slow, and deliberate. When his skin made contact with the rough texture of his outfit, he half expected the stranger to wake up.
He didn’t.
Emboldened by the stranger’s continued stillness, he slowly turned him over. His eyes were closed, he was presumably unconscious, but he looked anything but peaceful in this state. He looked like he was in pain. He looked scared. The expression made Grace's chest ache. How ever he had gotten here, it hadn’t been a pleasant experience.
But he was alive and for now, that would have to be enough. Grace sighed and thought of what to do next. It was still “morning” and it’d be a few hours before Rocky came to visit him, and a few more before his next class. Though now he was wondering if he should cancel his classes for the day.
The stranger made a quiet noise, that was a cross between pained groaning and crying. It snapped Grace out of his thoughts, and he leaned down to check on him.
He didn’t really have a whole lot of options.
The smell was still difficult to stomach but he did his best as he leaned in and checked the stranger’s heartbeat. It was erratic but steady. Then he hastily checked the missing arm. His stomach twisted further at the sight of it. The severed arm looked as though it had simultaneously been freshly torn off and as if it had been this way for weeks. Grace didn’t know how that was possible, but he did his best to ignore that question while he focused on other matters. Matters like how he was going to have to drag this person, who despite their terrible condition, looked like he weighed more than he'd ever lifted in his life.
“Well, here goes nothing…” he mumbled, mostly for his benefit.
He braced himself as he walked behind the stranger, placed his hands underneath his armpits and slowly began to pull him across the rocky beach. It was a long trip back to his house.
What normally might have been a five-minute walk turned into a fifteen-minute slog as he dragged, stopped to catch his breath, and dragged the stranger over the rocky terrain. But the stranger was hurt and Grace was out of his depth and knew of only one thing that had even a remote chance of helping this person he needed to get him into his house.
What Grace hadn’t thought of in the long haul across the beach was that he would have to also somehow lift the stranger onto his bed in order for Armondo to do its job. He hadn’t thought of that until he was in the house and struggling to lift the heavy body of the man onto his bed. He hadn't even thought about the fact that all the blood that coated the stranger might stain his only bed sheets, much like it had stained his hands and clothes.
His only concern at the time was getting him help.
When he finally got the stranger onto the bed, he wasted very little time in trying to help in any way he could. He placed an oxygen mask on his face, grabbed two clean towels, one to wash the blood from the stranger’s face and the other to dry it. As he cleaned the blood from his face and neck, he noticed a mark that looked disturbingly like a burn mark, though it was too precise to something that happened simply by accident. His fingers ghosted over it and he shuddered, unsure of just where it had come from. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know, so he took a mental note of the mark, and filed it under things I may or may not ask about in the future.
Before he left, he filled two cups full of water and placed them by on the small bedside table. He had done all he could do and the stranger’s health was out of his hand now.
“Armondo, I need you to run diagnostics on him. He’s missing an arm. It doesn't look infected but if it is…Just tell me what’s wrong with him. Tell me how we need to fix it. I’ll be right back!”
[Running diagnostic sequence now. Good luck Dr. Grace.]
There was, what Grace liked to call, a “panic button” in the enclosure the Eridian’s had built for him. Of course, he never really needed it until now. It was just outside where he slept. It wasn't very big and for a second Grace hesitated in pushing it.
He looked back to where the stranger was lying in his bed, where Armondo was working on him, placing needles in his hands and prodding the amputated arm. He worried for a second that maybe he’d been imagining the stranger but if the stranger were real or a hallucination, didn't both situations permit the need for help?
Grace closed his eyes and took a deep breath, opened his eyes again and pressed the button.
*
“Okay, so you can see the person too?” Grace had asked this question at least five times since Rocky showed up.
They were standing in the “living room” portion of his house. The small space between his room and the entrance where his dining table was as well as a few boxes they brought from the Hail Mary. It wasn’t small by any means but in that moment, Grace felt as though it were the most cramped space he’d ever been.
Yes. Rocky chirped, mildly frustrated but doing his best to understand his friend’s concern.
Grace thought he’d be relieved that he wasn't hallucinating the stranger lying in his bed, being tended to by Armondo, but in fact, he wasn't. Not even close. In the time since he’d gotten the stranger into the house, pressed the “panic button” and Rocky showed up, a thick blanket of dread had settled over his shoulders.
According to Armondo, the stranger was mostly fine. He needed to have the amputated arm cleaned and taken care of but for now his condition was stable. Grace watched him from the doorway; his eyes darted back and forth between Rocky and the stranger that occupied his bed.
“That ocean that Adrian made for me…it contained right?”
Yes. It is all contained here. One mistake with your home and you could die.
“And no other ship landed here? No messages from Earth?” He asked, with both a hint of worry and possibly hope in his voice.
No none. This stranger is a mystery that we need to solve. Quick.
Grace nodded, though it was halfhearted. He wasn’t so much concerned with the why and how of this stranger’s presence, not as much as Rocky, so much as he was concerned with the what and who. What had happened to the man lying on his bed? And who was he?
Why did you bring him into the house? Rocky sounded upset. Though Grace wasn’t completely sure why. Though, really knowing his friend it shouldn’t have been so much of a stretch to guess why. There was a reason after all that the “panic button” called Rocky out of all the other Eridians.
“Because I just—mean…I think Armondo is the only thing on this planet qualified to do anything close to surgery on him. Plus, when he wakes up it’ll probably be better if he wakes up in a familiar environment before learning he’s on an alien planet…” He trailed off. He knew that wasn't really the question Rocky was asking.
That was a stupid decision.
“Not like I haven’t made stupider decisions.” Grace mumbled.
That was different. This could be dangerous.
“I know but I panicked, okay?” Tears welled up in his eyes. For some inexplicable reason, the mere thought of not being able to help this person made Grace feel helpless himself, “I saw another person in trouble and I just…I wasn’t thinking.”
Rocky stared at him, though as much as he could stare without eyes and relented. Grace knew his friend was only worried about him but that didn't change the feeling of guilt and dread that surged through him.
Are you sure you want him to stay here? We do not know anything about him. You say he was covered in human blood. How did he get covered in human blood? Could be dangerous.
Grace swallowed, it wasn’t really something he’d thought about. He’d been too preoccupied with trying to get him to safety, “Look…he’s missing an arm. And he’s probably weak from whatever brought him here…plus where else would he go? This is the only place safe enough for him.”
Could take him to the Hail Mary.
A fresh wave of anxiety washed over Grace, “I don’t know if he’s in the best condition for that trip…”
You do not have to go with him. He will be safe there. Looked after.
Grace’s eyes fell back on the stranger. A thought began to creep up on him and the finger that had earlier brushed the brand on the other man’s neck burned as if to remind him of what they had seen, “I think it’ll be better if he stays here. For now. Until he wakes up.”
Rocky didn’t move but Grace had learned to read him well enough to know when he was uncomfortable. When he was worried. Specifically, when he was worried about him.
Are you sure about this?
No, he wasn’t, “Yes.”
Rocky still looked uncomfortable, I will stay here until it is time for Adrian’s sleep cycle.
Grace sighed in relief. Both he and Rocky both looked at the stranger who was lying on his bed.
His vitals were steady and his breath was even. He still looked uneasy. Grace felt his chest ache at the expression on his face then he noticed that in his previously panicked state he'd placed the good luck quilt over him. His heart clenched harder and he could only hope that luck and what they had was enough to help him.