Archive of Our Own

Aboard the Hail Mary, there is no day-night cycle.

I have zero idea what time it is. I'm not really sure it even matters, at this point. There is, of course, a clock in the ship's computer, but it's been changed so many times it's not even remotely accurate. Mostly because of when I found out that, while it won't give me painkillers if I've had them too recently, it doesn't actually have a timer for that — it's just tied to the clock. Which is stupid.

Rocky doesn't differentiate between day and night. They have a word for "night," but since Erid's surface is totally dark, you can't see the difference from there; their word for "night" is a scientific word like "periapsis" or "magnetosphere." 

That said… it's even easier for me to stay up way too late working on stuff than it was back on Earth. Especially stuff that isn't even important, like one of our large collection of pirated video games. I built a pretty decent replica of the ship's interior in Minecraft and Rocky does not seem impressed.

"It's — look, isn't it cute, I even put your little ball in."

He makes a noncommittal noise. "Ball in game is much bigger than real ball."

"That's — that's 'cause it's Minecraft, it doesn't… it doesn't have stuff that's small enough to make it… y'know, to scale. It's just blocks. You know what, why don't you try making a scale replica of the Hail Mary in Minecraft and then start insulting me."

He reaches over me and tries to press the W key, but his claws are slightly too big and he opens my inventory instead of making me walk forward. "Cannot. You not hold computer still."

"Convenient, isn't it," I mutter.

Rocky shrugs at me. I think he might be getting bored. "Show me exploding rock again."

"Huh… oh, you mean the End crystals."

Playing Minecraft with Rocky feels a lot like how I imagine it would feel to have a small child watching over my shoulder while I try to play games. He makes me build an obsidian box for the End crystals, then gets me to fill the box with cows and blow the crystal up so they all die.

"Something's seriously wrong with you," I tell him after the third round of cows. My character's inventory is completely full of beef and I don't know how to feel about that. Mostly grateful that Minecraft doesn't have realistic blood physics.

"Is not my fault game design allows animal explosion."

"Yeah, but it's your fault you wanna see it. You gotta… break the cycle. Take responsibility for your actions."

"By your logic is also your fault. I only telling you what to do but you do it. Your fault."

I squint at him. "You… shut up."

"You are being stupid," Rocky scolds. I roll my eyes. "You should sleep."

"But, I'm…" I gesture feebly to the beef. "I'm not done."

"It is twenty hours since last sleep. Long time." He pokes my nose.

"Jeez, really?" I mumble, though after he says it I don't doubt it. Looking at my laptop screen is kind of hurting my eyes… hey, isn't VR a thing for Minecraft? Maybe I could set it up in the video room…

I frown over at Rocky. "Why haven't you been… yelling at me about that?"

"You are busy with game. I feel bad make you put it away. Also, you not finish model of Hail Mary. I want to see model because probably funny."

"Wha… why's it funny?"

"Because you are bad at make model in reality, probably also bad at make model in game. My theory correct," he adds, and taps on my screen. "Bad. Funny."

"Rude."

"Grace sleep now, statement."

Sighing, I shut the laptop. "Yeah, okay."

"Good," he hums.

At this point I think I know him well enough to read him pretty easily, and vice versa. But he still always gives me some kind of verbal encouragement when I do something right. I guess maybe it's a habit. I, for my part, still haven't gotten used to it.

My heart still sputters a bit whenever I get approval from someone. I figured that would go away once I got out of school, but… nope.

Stratt's words of praise were few and far between, so it meant a lot more if she actually gave any. Maybe the fact that I started blushing whenever she said "good work" contributed to the fact that everyone else on the taskforce thought I was hooking up with her.

-

Sleeping is so much easier with Rocky around. Well… maybe not necessarily easier, but… better?

Before I met Rocky, I mostly just felt too awful all the time to get much rest. And after we parted ways, the nightmares that had been taunting me on and off started coming with a vengeance. The nightmares aren't gone now, of course. But it's better.

Rocky says I talk in my sleep and my face twitches. He does his best to wake me up if I seem like I'm in distress. It doesn't always work, but it makes me feel a little better.

The worst ones are, of course, the ones where I get tackled to the ground while sobbing and begging for my life. I think my brain is starting to realize that one's getting old, though. Everything else has come bubbling up, too, even stuff I didn't remember until now. My students, days spent testing equipment, memories of undergrad. That night on the boat.

I wonder if the fish in that tank died of natural causes, or if they starved like everyone else. Fish don't live very long, right? Probably natural causes… 

I didn't sing. I should have. Embarrassing, sure, but it probably wouldn't have changed anything. What would I have picked out? Meh. Easier to just not participate.

… I can't believe Eva Stratt listens to Harry Styles.

Well — listened. Let's be real, she's probably dead. That, or in prison for the rest of her life. Though, I don't know why they'd waste precious food and resources on keeping convicts alive.

Rocky's been wanting to listen to more Earth music lately, so we've been going down the list of the most popular artists. I skipped over Harry Styles and I wouldn't tell him why.

It's pretty stupid. Dreams are just the brain processing information. But, God, you'd think it would be done with most of this stuff by now.

"Grace."

I curl in on myself like I want to hide, which is stupid since Rocky can see me perfectly well from any angle. "'M awake."

"Grace okay question?"

"Peachy." My voice has that awful twinge you get when you're trying not to cry. I don't have to wonder if Rocky noticed. It's probably my most obvious tell.

Rocky doesn't reply. A few minutes go by, but just when I think maybe he's letting this slide, the mattress dips next to me. His claw, now covered only by his flexible suit, taps gently on my arm.

"Let — lemme sleep," I say hoarsely.

"You are leaking."

I sniffle. "I know. Just lemme sleep."

"You only sleep after stop leaking."

"It's an… it's an expression," I say lamely, even though it's really not.

"Grace want talk about scary dream, question?"

I shake my head as best I can while half of it is kind of buried in a pillow. "Not this time, bud."

"You are sure?"

"I'm sure."

Hm. Is it bad that I don't want to tell him about this one? Why?

You know, I swear Stratt looked at me that night. I don't know if that's my memories coming back wrong, or if it's just the original Earth-me misinterpreting something.

I don't know. It feels like a secret that isn't mine to share.

Rocky steps around to sit on my other side, so I'm facing him. I'm not exactly full-on sobbing, but I'm sure my face doesn't look great.

"What?" I sigh.

"Is okay if you not want tell me." He sits down with his arms curled around himself. Reminds me of a cat loafing, kind of. "I can stay here, question?"

"U-um… sure."

He shuffles around a little until he's kind of nestled between my chest and my thighs. He fits there surprisingly well. He's warm, as usual.

Allegedly, dreams are fun sometimes. Usually not for me. The most fun ones usually just involve me learning that I can fly but then not being able to get off the ground because I'm trying too hard. I'm glad Rocky doesn't dream, since if he could, they'd probably be pretty brutal.

Absentmindedly, I brush my hand over his arm.

"What is it, question?"

I let it fall back down to the mattress. "Nothin', sorry, I'm tired."

"Sleep now."

"Yeah, yeah… g'night."

Rocky fists one of his hands in the sleeve of my T-shirt.

-

I've been awake for nineteen hours and I can't sleep.

I try almost everything I can think of, but my brain won't cooperate. Eventually, I decide to just do something else for a while so I don't have to think about it. Today's victim: Kerbal Space Program.

Rocky's pretty confused about the whole situation. "You are tired! Why not sleep?"

"That's just how humans work sometimes," I mumble. "It's kind of a psychological thing, I think. Like, if you think about falling asleep, it won't happen. So I'm just gonna distract myself for a while 'cause if I don't think about sleep it might fix itself."

"Seems bad for survival."

"Mm. We get to sleep eventually… usually."

Rocky makes a sound of… not disgust. Whatever emotion it is when he finds out some new insane terrible adaptation humans have. Horror, probably.

"How does that work for you guys, anyway? Is it just, like, flipping a switch?"

"Not always. Triggered intentionally mostly, but is more difficult if not tired."

My rocket, while able to achieve suborbital flight, can't seem to slow itself down once it's there, since it's apparently going too fast for the parachutes to open. Or something. I re-launch it to try again.

"Grace is bad at rocket game."

"Am not."

"Why are you playing this game while tired and stupid, question?"

I shrug. The rocket runs into the same issue as before. I'm not sure why they keep giving me Kerbals to put in my rockets, since I keep killing them.

I yawn. "What happens when you get sleep-deprived?"

Jebediah Kerman blinks up at me from the corner of my screen. I don't have the heart to tell him what's going to happen to him in about two minutes.

"Eridians do not get stupid when tired like humans. Since sleep less, also takes longer to feel effects of tired."

"Mm. Makes sense. What's it feel like?"

"Start to feel pain in whole body. Not bad, but gets worse if continue without sleep. If not sleep even longer, functions become slower. When brain and motor functions become very very slow, becomes difficult to hear. Then later, body shuts down and force sleep."

"Wow. That sounds, uh… scary."

"Yes, very scary."

He fidgets a little. "… But sometimes is less scary than sleeping alone."

Does that mean — is he talking from firsthand experience? Did Rocky stay awake on the Blip-A until he passed out? 

I know his lifespan is a lot longer than mine. But forty years is a long time for anyone.

"Humans, um… we get scary symptoms too, like hallucinations and stuff, but I think it's hard to stay awake that long unless you do it on purpose. For me, anyway."

The parachute fails and kills Jebediah Kerman for what must be the fiftieth time. I wonder if Kerbals feel pain. "Dang it."

"Why are you using parachute when moving so fast, question?"

"'Cause I don't have any other way to slow it down."

"More parachutes."

"Tried that. It's too fast to use any of them."

"Launch at angle and re-enter atmosphere at angle so velocity not straight down."

"Can't. I don't think I unlocked… whatever lets you steer it."

That seems to puzzle him. "Add second engine to burn while falling at slow rate, and slow fall. Like we do on Adrian."

"Yeah, I just tried that. It flips upside down and just thrusts itself back into the ground."

"Add scaffold to put rocket on launch pad at angle."

"I — hmm. That's not a bad idea."

Unsurprisingly, it doesn't work. The scaffold stays attached to the rocket for some reason and unbalances it so it crashes.

"Urgh. I swear to God this is impossible."

"Detach scaffold from rocket," Rocky suggests, like I haven't thought of that already.

"I can't! I don't have a decoupler that can go on the side like that…"

"This game not have guide, question?"

I frown. The game has a guide, but it doesn't tell me enough. It does have tutorials, most of which I skipped, because I am the world's greatest rocket scientist and I don't need anyone telling me what to do. 

"You — hmm. Hang on."

So I open the "orbit" tutorial and it turns out —

"You can steer the rocket with WASD. Oh, my God. I'm an idiot."

Rocky snickers. "You are stupid tired," he chides affectionately.

I close my eyes and rest my head in my hands. "Yeah, I know."

I take a deep breath, and go back to building the rocket. I refuse to sleep before I get Jeb home safely.

-

Eridians are completely unconscious during sleep. They don't really have beds in the same way that humans do — just a "nest" area for sleeping in. Pillows and blankets are kind of a foreign concept.

I don't know how often you're supposed to wash your bedsheets. I'm guessing that it's ideally more often than I do it. Mostly because I've been procrastinating; putting a fitted sheet back onto a mattress is weirdly exhausting.

I've moved it onto the floor permanently — this coming after one too many instances of me falling off the bunk and hurting myself. Thankfully, no concussions yet, but it's only a matter of time. As an added bonus, the empty bunk now serves as another place where I can put things down if I need my hands empty and then forget where I put those objects when I need them later.

I string up the sheets in the sleeping area. Makes it a little difficult to get around, but whatever. I feel an odd flicker of resentment. Would it really have been so hard to put a dryer on board somewhere?

… They probably did. They probably did put a dryer somewhere and I just can't find it.

"You own so many cloth."

"Tell me about it."

I almost trip over my own feet as I try to leave the room. Not even any of the clutter around here — my own feet!

"It's fine. It's like a pillow fort."

"I do not know word. Made of pillows, question?"

"Oh, a pillow fort? Uh, it's kinda like a tent, but you make it out of pillows and blankets and stuff by wedging the blankets in spots where they stick. Then you can… hang out inside with your friends and gossip and have sleepovers, I guess."

"Sleep over, question?"

"Oh, man, have I not explained sleepovers to you?"

He wiggles from side to side in a movement reminiscent of me shaking my head.

"Okay, so, I dunno how households work on Erid. But on Earth kids mostly live with their parents, so they don't live with friends. A sleepover is when you go visit your friend's house and sleep there. But it's more about spending time with your friends, not actually sleeping. Or so I've been told."

I really can't say that I actually have any experience with sleepovers. I think I was invited to one in the fifth grade, though the memory is hazy. I'm pretty sure that it involved a Harry Potter movie marathon, and that I didn't really care about Harry Potter.

"We have sleep-over."

"Huh?"

"Me and you always in same ship and spend time. Is sleep-over."

Hm. He's not wrong.

"Idea," I say.

I grab one of the sheets and throw it sideways over the empty bunk. I crawl underneath and hold up the sheet. "C'mere."

Rocky scuttles underneath the sheet. He almost gets tangled up in it before I pull it out of the way; I wonder if it's hard for him to see it, since it's pretty thin.

"This is sleep over activity pillow structure, question?" He sounds almost… disappointed.

"Yeah! I guess for you it's not much. But humans can't see past the sheets very well, so it's kinda like we're hiding."

He sits down with a little clunk. "This is behavior evolved to evade predator, question?"

"Nah, this is just for fun. I guess maybe it's like if you hide from everyone else you can tell secrets to your friends? Or whatever people do at sleepovers."

"You not know, question?"

I get defensive even though I know he's right. I think maybe I get more defensive because he's right. "I mean, it's — it's not that I don't know what people do at sleepovers. It's mostly just that I haven't been invited to one since I was a little kid. Adults don't really have sleepovers, except for sex, but I don't think that counts."

There's kind of a lot of stuff adults don't do except for sex. Like… roleplay as a concept. There is no non-weird way to play pretend as an adult.

I try to think of other activities. Theoretically, we could go off of my one experience and do a Harry Potter marathon, except that I don't care about Harry Potter. Aside from the author being comically evil, they kind of go downhill after the fourth one anyway.

We actually did play Truth or Dare once, but it kind of ground to a halt because we essentially already know everything we'd want to ask, and we're both too responsible to come up with any dares that would actually be interesting.

When I think of other party games, Spin the Bottle comes to mind, but that doesn't even make sense to play if you don't have a lot of people. Also, Eridians aren't physically capable of kissing like humans. So… you know what, forget the games. Better idea.

"Sometimes people talk about, like, secrets and intimate things and stuff, I think. Like, uh —" I clear my throat and attempt the most annoying tone possible. "Do you have a crush on anyone?"

"Confuse."

"'Crush' is a slang term. It means someone you like romantically."

"Oh, understand. Then I am crush Adrian."

I laugh. "No, it's usually used for, like… if the other person doesn't know you like them. A secret. So if you liked Adrian before you actually started — courting them, or whatever. That would be a crush."

"You know I like only one person, why you ask, question?"

"It's — I dunno, it's a culture thing! That's what people talk about at sleepovers… I think." Although maybe that's only if you're a ditzy high school girl.

"Only thing, question?"

"Probably not? Like I said, I don't really have experience…"

"… Grace have crush, question?"

"Wha — me?" I splutter. My face is heating up even though I definitely don't have a crush. Perhaps I'm subconsciously remembering all of the awkward discussions I've had with coworkers about the subject. Apparently, always having a crush on someone is bad, but never having one isn't normal either?

"No. Hah. No, I don't have a crush. I mean — it'd be kinda sad, if I did, right? I'm — never gonna see anyone again."

Rocky shrugs. "You ask me so I ask you."

"… hey, you said you 'only' like one person. Is — do Eridians usually have more than one mate?"

"Sometimes. Common to have more than one. Also common to have only one, or none."

"So do you — do you want more than one mate? Is it, like, a personal preference?"

"Depends on individual."

Rocky's claws tap over the mark on his arm almost absentmindedly. "Having mate part of life plan for many Eridians, but usually not actively hunt for mate. Before, I do not care if I have mate, but I meet Adrian and ♫♫♪♪♪♪♫♪♫."

"What's that last part?"

"Oh, yes. Is phrase with complicated meaning. Metaphor, poetic. Meaning is to develop strong feelings of love and affection."

I wonder if Rocky plays up his affection for Adrian for dramatic effect, or if he's just like this all the time. He's kind of… well, Eridians don't have binary gender, but he's kind of a wifeguy.

"You fell in love. That's what we'd say."

"Yes."

"Humans only have one mate usually. It's kind of weird if you have more."

"Oh… complicated. What happens if human fall in love with more than one person, question?"

Excellent question. The source of many of my grievances with most rom-coms. "They pick, usually. Or the whole situation just kinda falls apart. Sometimes people have romantic relationships with more than one person, but it's really rare."

He makes a frustrated click. "I think humans put too much difference between type of love. Stupid."

"Like, romantic versus platonic, you mean?"

"Yes. Unnecessary and complicated."

I recall a little tidbit of trivia about how the ancient Greeks had, like, seven different words for all the different types of love. I don't actually remember any of them, but I think English could stand to take a page out of that book. "Yeah. I get it. I can't really tell the difference, either."

"Humans think love is good thing, but want to limit? Strange."

"I know, right? I think maybe it's, like… if you had three people in a marriage it'd get more complicated? But marriages between two people fall apart all the time anyway."

"Eridian mates separation is rare. Happens, but very rare."

"How does that work? Like, what would happen to your mark if you and Adrian got — divorced?"

He takes a moment to reply and I wince a little. It's probably not something he wants to think about. "Sorry."

"All okay. Mark is usually kept. There are ways to remove, but is rare."

"Humans who get divorced usually stop wearing their wedding rings."

"Adrian significant part of my life. Even if not with Adrian, still very important to me. Mark is reminder."

"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense."

Rocky puts one leg in front of himself with a thunk. It's one of the two "front" ones, adorned with a variety of crisscrossing lines. "I have marks also for other family. And friends. But not as big important as mark for Adrian. Mark honor all people who are important and not only mate."

That's… kind of cute. "It's pretty rare for humans to wear things for their family like that. I mean, they do sometimes, but it's not as much of a cultural thing as wedding rings."

"Humans not value other people, only mate?"

"Ehh…"

I think of all the friends I've lost over the years, because they started dating someone and were too into them to hang out with me. "Depends? I mean, there's a lotta things you only do with a romantic partner that are kinda weird to do with anyone else."

"Grace not have mate," Rocky says slowly. "This means… no humans think Grace important, question?"

I want to argue. I'd like to think people found me important. But I know better.

You don't even have a dog.

I swallow around the lump in my throat. No matter how many friends I had or how much time I spent with them, why would they ever care about me as much as their own husbands or wives? Maybe it's immature of me to expect that.

I've been silent a moment too long. Rocky deduces what I'm not telling him.

"I hate Earth," he growls.

I'm jealous of his enthusiasm. All I can think of when I think of Earth is beaches and green and wide blue skies.

I wish I had it in me to hate Earth.

"Is good they send you to me, since obviously Earth not appreciate you."

I snort. "Well, I dunno about that."

"Grace is important! Not believe me, question? When arrive on Erid I will get new mark for you. Then will be proof."

I laugh, but there's no heart in it. "You don't… you don't have to do that."

Rocky stands and takes a step away from me. "…  Grace not think we are close, question?"

"No, no, we are, I mean — I just — I'm flattered. That, um, that you'd… do that for me."

"You are friend. Is tradition. Maybe also we make you jewelry for hand for human tradition."

"What, a ring? Wait, are you proposing to me?"

"Proposal."

"Not like a proposal for a plan. It's a word for when you ask someone to marry you. Asking is called 'proposing.' It's — stupid joke, sorry, just because you were, y'know, talking about a ring."

"Oh. You are asking if I am proposing human formal mate agreement."

"Well, human proposals usually involve the person giving a ring to the person they ask."

"Is similar maybe. Semi-permanent mark to commemorate relationship."

My fingers brush over the scar on my forearm. "I already have one of those, kinda."

"Oh. Yes, I forget. Apology."

"Don't apologize. I like it. It's 'cause you saved my life. Like you said, it's like, a reminder."

I wonder what it'd look like if Rocky did give me a ring. It'd probably look kind of brown. But then again, human wedding rings aren't all that visually interesting, at least the ones for men.

Rocky tries to walk, but one of his legs snags on the sheet and pulls it down over the side of the bunk.

"♪♪♪."

"What's that mean?"

"Exclamation to say when mistake."

"Oh, uh — 'oops,' maybe."

It might not be 'oops.' There's a decent chance it's a swear word. I'm holding off on teaching Rocky human swear words for as long as possible.

"Grace is bad at make cloth structure," he clicks.

"You just think I'm bad at everything."

"Not everything. Many things. Is reason you are scientist not engineer." And then he starts laughing at me. Jerk.

"Har, har," I grumble, and begin the arduous task of standing up. I don't know if it's difficult because of the 50% higher gravity… or if I'm just getting old.

-

Usually, Rocky sleeps for just under two hours, every few days. This has been true since I met him; the first time he sleeps for longer than two hours, I think I'm imagining it. I've never been good at keeping track of time.

But then it happens again. And again, so I start timing it. The time varies, but he has been sleeping longer — somewhere between 5 to 20 minutes longer each time.

I'm not good at hiding that I'm worried. To distract myself, I make a graph of my data so far, but it just makes me even more worried.

Is he sick or something? Feels a little awkward to ask about it. Hey, Rocky, you've been sleeping more, are you sick or just a lazy bum?

Another late night of playing Kerbal Space Program has me curled up next to the big window and using my laptop in a way that can't be good for my spine. I think when you use a high-end laptop on your lap and not a table you should put a lap desk or something underneath so it doesn't overheat. But A) I can't find one and B) I don't care.

Clicking out of the game for a moment greets me with my Excel spreadsheet. According to my calculations that I painstakingly performed myself and definitely didn't get by clicking a button to generate an equation, Rocky should sleep for three hours and thirty-five minutes next time — probably tonight. But that assumes the growth is linear. I don't have enough data to tell for sure yet.

"… Hey, Rocky?"

I hear him clunking over to me. "What?"

"You've been sleeping for longer lately. Not much, but, I dunno, it's weird?"

He brushes my knee with an arm. "How long, question?"

"Well, uh, based on my model, should be about three and a half hours this time. Used to be less than two."

He makes a little hum I can't decipher.

"It's — I'm just worried, like, are you sick? Or —"

"No," Rocky says quickly. "Not sick."

Well… I guess that's a relief. "So what's going on?"

He fidgets a little. "Eridian sleep usually lasts about 4.5 hours. I sleep very short."

"Oh. So, like, insomnia. That's when you have trouble sleeping, like, you can't fall asleep, or you can't stay asleep."

He makes a little huffy sound like a sigh. "Not exactly. Humans do not sleep well when in high stress, question?"

"Depends on the person. But yeah, generally."

"Is like that. Eridians body completely shut down during sleep. But, if in situation of high stress for long amount of time, body will remember and wake up after shorter time for safety." He does a little shrug-y motion. "I do not know mechanism or biology reason."

"So — you're sleeping more now because you're not so stressed all the time."

"Yes. Not sure. But likely reason."

I sit up straight and Rocky takes a couple steps back. I mourn the loss of his warmth next to me.

"I sleep again soon. And is likely will sleep longer and longer until around normal amount. Apology."

"What — why're you apologizing?"

"If I sleep longer is harder for you to watch," he clicks, sounding mildly irritated, like it should be obvious.

"Don't worry about that."

I extend a hand towards him, intending to hug him, but he backs away a little more, just out of my reach. "You hate watching so long. You become anxious after only two hours alone. Five hours bad bad bad."

A heavy sort of guilt settles in my stomach. I give him a smile in an attempt to assauge him. "Sorry. It's not that bad, really. I just like complaining."

"Bad," he insists.

"It — okay. C'mere." I pat the floor in front of me.

Rocky shuffles back over in front of me, but he doesn't look too happy about it. 

I put my forehead up against the mesh of his suit. There's not really any way for him to avoid looking at me, but I want to make sure he's paying attention.

"However long it takes, I'm more than happy to watch you. Okay? I can handle it. Really. I mean, I might get kinda bored, but your health is more important."

"I do not doubt you are able to," Rocky mutters. "But I am making more difficult for you and I do not like it."

"No, listen. I'd… I'd watch you for a whole week, if that's what you needed. Well — at a certain point I have to, like, go to the bathroom and eat and stuff. But I'd be quick and I'd stay nearby."

"You are not listening to me!" Rocky wails. "I know you can! But is inconvenient!"

"Yeah, and I'm saying I don't care, I'll do it anyway. And it's not any more inconvenient than you watching me for eight hours a day."

"That different. Is what I agree to."

"Fair point. But I'm agreeing now, so it doesn't matter."

"But —"

"Rocky."

He's made it very clear he would do almost anything for me. I guess it's just hard for him to know that I reciprocate.

"I love you to the moon and back. You know that, right?"

We've had this conversation before, in reverse, kind of. Maybe I'm a hypocrite.

Rocky doesn't say anything.

"So just — stop arguing and let me take care of you."

"Is difficult to ♪♫♪♪ me."

"I don't know that word."

"It is type of love for mate or very close family or friend. Caring love like you say."

"I don't think we have a word for that. Not a direct translation, anyway."

I think there was some language — ancient Greek, maybe — that had like seven different words for different types of love. English is basically a drunken collage of other languages as it is… but I think we could stand to take a page out of that book.

"Specific word is not important. Is still difficult."

"No, it's not," I say without a second thought. "You're not hard to love. Did — did someone tell you that?"

Not Adrian, I hope. Or I am going to have some choice words for them.

"No, no one say to me. But is fact, so I am sure many people think. Not just sleeping, more about personality. Tendency I push people away even when trying to be friendly. Stupid."

Hm. That's familiar. 

I think I'm just good enough at pretending to be normal that people try to talk to me. But then usually I'll say something stupid or get too excited about something or talk their ear off about chemistry and then they never talk to me again.

"Listen, I don't know how it is with, like, Eridian social systems or whatever, but it's not hard to love you."

Rocky is smart, funny, and also a total sweetheart. Importantly, he is the reason I'm not alone, and the reason I might get to live past the next few years.

It's definitely another flaw in the English language that we only really use the phrase "fell in love" to refer to romance. Because, really, how could I not fall in love with Rocky?

"It's maybe… one of the easiest things I've done," I add. "It would be — it would be harder not to love you."

Two of Rocky's hands grasp the hem of my shirt. "You are inconvenienced often because of me. Must be difficult."

"Not really. It's… maybe there's stuff that's hard. But loving you has always been pretty easy. It makes everything else easier."

"I am thinking I pick very good name for you," he chirps.

"My name? What d'you mean?"

"Name I call you is also word in Eridian," he says. "My name, not a word. Some Eridians have word name. You have word name because is what I call you. Word means kindness, kindness to all even if not deserve. Kindness without conditions. Not same as 'love' but is similar."

It's so unbelievable I almost laugh. "Grace."

"Yes. Your name."

"No, I mean, 'grace' is a word in English, too. It means — basically what you just said. You named me 'grace.' Or… maybe 'mercy' would be another translation of it? But still."

I suppose it's not too far-fetched. Eridians don't have the phrase "saving grace," but it makes sense that they would have a similar concept. Rocky was alone out here for forty years. I was the first living thing he'd seen in decades. I would have named me 'grace' too.

… Well, no, I'm not nearly poetic enough for that. If I was an Eridian meeting a human, I would've named it "squishy" or something.

"Improbable."

"Maybe."

"… Grace?"

"Yeah?"

"I have question. Phrase you say 'to moon and back.' Confuse."

"Oh… it just means a lot. 'Cause the Earth and the Moon are pretty far away, so it's saying, like, I love you that much. The distance between them."

"But moon is closest object to Earth."

"Yeah, but that's still pretty far." It's honestly pretty crazy that we've been to the Moon. As Kerbal Space Program will attest to, it's not hard to just send things into space really far away. The hard part is getting them back and landing them.

"Relatively is small distance. But understand. Before you explain I think it maybe sarcasm."

"No, just an expression."

"Stupid."

"To Erid and back, then, how's that."

"Better," he hums. "I love you distance Erid to Tau Ceti plus distance Tau Ceti to Erid."

"That's kinda literal," I say, unable to bite back  a grin.

"I think is good! You say too many metaphors."

"No, it's good," I laugh.

"Good," Rocky echoes.

He steps back and I have to sit up quickly so I don't whack my face on the ground. "What's up?"

"I sleep soon. You remember, question?"

"Oh, right. Yeah."

He hesitates. "… This okay, question? You are prepared, question?"

"Yeah, I told you, it's fine."

I lean over and kiss him on the… not cheek. He doesn't have cheeks. Carapace side?

Rocky startles a little. "What that for, question?"

"Oh, uh, I've explained kissing before, haven't I?"

"Yes, I remember. Why now, question?"

"I mean… there's not always… a reason, for kissing? It's just to show affection. You don't need, like, an occasion." I shrug. "Call that one a goodnight kiss, I guess."

"Okay."

He waits for a moment before reaching an arm up and putting a hand on top of my hair. He rustles it around a little like he's trying to mess it up. "Goodnight!"

He skitters off somewhere I can't see him, presumably to eat before going to sleep. I go back to browsing our games, because Kerbal Space Program is too frustrating to play for three and a half hours straight.

-

According to Mary, it is eleven o'clock in the morning. Unfortunately, it's been a long time since the ship's clock actually lined up with my sleeping habits, so I'd guess it's more like ten at night.

It is another day of being directionlessly depressed, and I'm in the video room looking at the beach. It's probably a ticking time bomb until I just start sobbing uncontrollably whenever I think about Earth. But it hasn't happened yet, and today I'm definitely too tired for that.

And since there's not a lot of places you can go here, it's also just a matter of time until Rocky comes over to pester and/or hang out with me.

I hear him clanking down the ladder before I see him.

"Hello Grace!"

"Hey."

He must hear the lack of enthusiasm in my voice. "You are okay, question?"

"Yeah, I just… I'm tired. Sorry."

"Sleep," he suggests.

"It's not that kind of tired."

"Oh, is emotional. Confusing. I can help, question?"

I shake my head. "This isn't something you can fix."

Waves crashing under my feet doesn't feel as nice when they are very clearly fake and I can't touch them. I guess it's better than nothing.

"Not trying fix. Only help, if you want."

Before I can think of a reply, he holds up a claw at me. "Grace wait here, I come back."

"'Kay."

A couple minutes later, Rocky returns carrying something on his back.

He reaches the bottom of the ladder and throws the quilt over my shoulders.

"Oh. Thanks."

"You want me stay here or go away, question?"

"Uh… stay, I guess. If you want to."

"Okay. You tell me if want something."

My instinct is to curl into myself and yell about how nothing can fix this. But… well, 'help,'  not 'fix.'

I know what I want, but I think saying "can you hold me" is a little too cringe even by my standards.

I pull my legs up over the edge of the platform and turn towards him a little. "Um — could…"

When I don't continue, he holds two arms up and says, "Hug, question?"

I nod, and he gets up and sits in front of me. He curls an arm around my shoulders, then another around my back, and pulls me down until I'm kind of partially on top of him. I'm not sure if I'm imagining it, but I think he's being more gentle with me than usual.

I try not to think about it. He is terrifyingly strong. If he grabbed my hand too hard he could splinter my finger bones into dust.

A third hand comes up to rest on my head and he tangles his claws in my hair. It kind of makes me want to grow it out a little. Maybe Eridians have cool fancy ways of braiding that humans haven't thought of.

I don't know if it helps. But it's nice, and I can breathe a little easier.

"Good, question?"

I give him a hum of acknowledgement.

I don't fall asleep. I have trouble sleeping anywhere that isn't a bed unless I'm crazy tired. My brain just kind of goes into low-power mode.

Rocky quietly hums a simple little tune the entire time. I'm impressed by his ability to sing the same thing on repeat for so long without getting bored.

-

On Earth, I made a habit of setting an alarm — even if I had no reason to get up, I often wouldn't wake up until like one in the afternoon and then get frustrated that the day was already halfway over.

I don't set an alarm here. Besides the fact that there's no day-night cycle — so a day starts whenever I want, basically — I can always just get Rocky to wake me up at a certain time if I need to for some reason.

Sometimes he wakes me up when it's not necessary, though.

"Grace."

It's too dark out for this. "Nnh."

An arm pokes me in the side. "Grace wake up now."

"Nnno."

"Mary lights on," Rocky says. 

I regret setting it up for the computer to let Rocky use voice commands. I whine in protest.

"Sleep for twelve hours. Twelve hours long time. Is now time wake up."

Experimentally, I move a hand out from under the blankets. It's cold and I don't like it.

"Mm. New human concept: sleeping in. That's when you… sleep for longer than you're s'posed to. Lemme sleep."

"Stupid."

I lift the blankets up by the corner. "C'mere."

With some difficulty, Rocky steps up onto the mattress and walks across it to come underneath the covers. For all his superhuman coordination, he has trouble walking on it — too squishy, probably. It's kind of adorable.

He flops down to fit better underneath the blanket — starfishing, kind of.

One of his arms ends up near my chest. I find his hand and hold it up next to my face.

"See, now we're both sleeping in."

"I am not asleep. You are not asleep either."

I close my eyes. "Not the point. You don't have to be asleep. Just resting."

The mattress bounces a bit as Rocky pushes himself a little closer to me. "Fine. Still stupid."

"S'okay. You don't have to get it."

"Yes, whatever. Sleep time."

Rocky leans against me a little bit — not enough to crush my ribs, but definitely enough for me to feel how heavy he is. It's kind of nice, actually. Like a weighted blanket.

He grabs my cheek and squishes it, and makes a squeaky noise.

"What's that for?"

"Good night kiss."

I laugh. "It's not really… You know what, I'll take it."