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It’s a good year and a half into their journey to Erid when the realization hits Grace like a train.
According to Mary’s systems it’s late morning, yet Grace had only now gotten out of bed. It may or may not have something to do with the Star Trek marathon they’d pulled last night, but when he does get up, it’s to groggily walk over to the designated kitchen area to get his coffee and to greet one impatient Eridian.
“Grace sleep long today!” Rocky greets him. “Need much coffee?”
“Hey, bud,” the man replies blearily. “Yeah, I definitely need much much much coffee.”
“Okay. Can Rocky sample coffee too?” the alien asks in mock innocence, and Grace was sure that if he’d had eyelashes, he’d be batting them right now.
Grace scoffs. This isn’t the first time Rocky had asked for coffee and it certainly won’t be the last.
“Answer’s still no, Rock,” he says and takes a sip, sighing when the drink hits his tastebuds. Ah, sweet sweet caffeine.
Grace chuckles when he hears Rocky grumble “unfair unfair unfair,” then moves to get his breakfast done and over with so that they can tackle more taumoeba-related science today.
“Grace sleep so much, going to sleep even when we get to Erid.”
“Hey, I recall you being the one to suggest we keep watching yesterday night!”
Rocky doesn’t deem this worthy of a reply, rolling in his ball in the direction of a window and seemingly staring out into the open space instead.
Grace’s chuckle dies on his lips as he sets his food down and walks over to lay a hand on Rocky’s ball.
“Hey,” he says, gently now. “Why don’t you tell me more about Erid?”
That gets Rocky’s attention as he looks up and glances between the window and Grace’s face.
“Grace want to hear about Erid?”
“I sure do,” Grace reassures. “If that’s okay with you.”
“Okay okay okay,” Rocky trills. “What Grace want to hear about?”
Grace thinks about this for a bit, pouting as he holds his chin in one hand.
“Hmmm, how about…” he trails off, thinking. He tries to think of a topic, any topic, but his mind comes off blank – it must be the sleepiness, not quite chased away by the hit of caffeine yet– “how about…” his eyes land on a spark of green, a post-it note with some note to self he’d written earlier, and he swears he can feel a lightbulb above his head light up.
“How about you tell me about Adrian?”
That seems to surprise Rocky as he makes a short, shrill sound, but Grace can feel the fondness in his voice as he asks “What about them?”
Grace waves a hand. “Anything, really. You haven’t told me much about them at all so far.”
That was true, Rocky had not disclosed much information about his mate to Grace yet. It might be that he felt that it would be uncomfortable for Grace to hear, since he himself didn’t have a mate, or perhaps he just didn’t want to reminisce, to open the wound of the insurmountable distance separating him and the love of his life again. Whatever the reason, Grace didn’t know much about Adrian – only that they were, apparently, the most attractive Eridian ever with a voice so gorgeous they’d gotten tens, perhaps even hundreds of courting gifts and proposals. Grace knew Adrian was also very smart, what with them being a bioengineer with a degree in zoology on the side, but that was about it. Rocky had never disclosed much regarding their personality, hobbies, family, or even history.
Hm. Speaking of which…
“How did you guys meet?”
That clearly startles Rocky, the alien perking up so hard he bangs his carapace on his ball, then glares at Grace as the man tries and fails to stifle his laughter.
Rocky makes a quick gurgling sound, which Grace has come to associate with something akin to “oh, shut up”.
“Hm. Can tell Grace,” Rocky says, clearly giddy about this whole idea. “If Grace sit down and not interrupt.”
Grace laughs and sits. “Sure, Rock. I’m all ears.”
*
Rocky remembers that day well. He’d been looking forward to that day for a long, long time. School field trips to actual science centres only take place once a year, after all. Oh, how he longed to see engineering labs and the newest equipment he, with his low social ranking and background, could only dream of. He never expected to find something even more precious to him that day, though.
(“Oh, you were in school? How old were you?”
“Said not interrupt! And, hm, let Rocky do math… in human years, judging by development stage, about fourteen? Fifteen?”
“Oh wow, okay. Just a little guy then!”
“Grace quiet, demand.”
“Sure, bud, sorry.”)
He was so gleeful, bouncing up and down with high-pitched tweets, it made his mother laugh as she packed his things. He barely gave her the time to say bye before he was sprinting out, running to his best friend Carl’s house to meet him there so that they could walk to school together.
His friend’s mother opened the door only to relay disappointing news. “I’m really sorry, Rocky, Carl can’t go to school with you today, he’s molting and you know how that is.”
(“Molting? You guys do that??”
“Yes, but mostly as pebbles, much less when fully grown.”
“Fascinating!!”)
Rocky felt his heart drop at the news. He couldn’t make friends easily, and Carl was the only one in his class be able to tolerate his antics – the stubbornness, the rapid onslaught of information when he was fascinated with something and the constant need to tinker with something – the whole time. When he got paired up with someone else, they either ended up annoyed at him and leaving him to do most of the work himself, or staying to do their fill, but being clearly uncomfortable most of the time.
(“Aww, bud, I’m so sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I was pretty much the same.”
“Grace Rocky fated to be friends, statement.”
“Aww.”)
So that dampened his mood instantly. Without Carl, who knows what some of the pebbles that had been openly expressing their annoyance at Rocky in class would do… But, he supposed, that was still far away. He’d figure out what to do when he got there.
The field trip was nice. More than nice, really, since he got to try out different, top-quality equipment and tools, and ask the expert engineers and mechanics anything and everything he was curious about. The head engineer, Mickey, treated him very nicely and even said he’d love it if a bright mind like his joined their ranks one day! That had gotten him words of praise from the teacher as well, since he made his class look good in front of all of these important people and other classes from other schools, too. Not that his classmates weren’t also bright and curious, but it had been clear who the real star of today was.
…all too clear, even to those of his classmates that found joy in putting someone else down.
(“Uh oh.”)
It all went well, until the very end of the field trip. When the teachers were much too busy with herding the pebbles outside, made extra hard by the fact that there were classes from multiple schools, and Rocky was busying himself with tinkering, the group of pebbles had struck.
“Hey there, know-it-all,” the first, a very tall and sturdy pebble – Mark– had said, grabbing Rocky’s newest xenonite puppet and holding it high above his head.
“Give that back, dimwit!” Rocky tried grabbing it back to no avail before being shoved by another pebble. “Mrs Amethyst!” He tried calling the homeroom teacher, but she’d been too busy with gathering his classmates and couldn’t hear him over the crowd.
“Nobody likes a tattletale, dumbass. But I guess you didn’t know that, since you can’t even say hi like a normal Eridian,” another pebble joined in, shoving Rocky to the ground. When he got up, Mark shoved him again, throwing his puppet from arm to arm.
“Careful with that!” Rocky yelled, seeming to only make it worse, since now Mark threw the puppet to the other pebble.
(“I’m so sorry, Rock. That’s called bullying and it’s something humans, unfortunately, do too. Us teachers have to look out for it and hopefully nip it in the bud before it can even begin. There are guidelines and all that.”
“Eridians have guidelines too, but not always help.”
“Yeah, trust me, I know. Still, that’s horrible.”
“Appreciate.”)
But! Just as he was losing all hope, getting shoved and laughed at, yelling at the other pebbles to stop, someone stepped up.
“Give that back,” the most beautiful voice he’d ever heard in his life said mildly, yet with enough threat behind it to make the pebbles stop.
“This is none of your business,” Mark said sharply –yet with the barest hint of fear– to the new Eridian, prompting Rocky to take a look at them.
And when he did, he could swear his heart stopped.
They were indeed very tall, taller than most pebbles their age –which he guessed since the pebbles going on the field trip had been around his age– and they were magnificent. Their carapace was sharper than Rocky’s, with more dents and ridges, its medium rough texture very pleasant. It was apparent they molded only recently, but they didn’t let any weakness show in their body nor voice. Speaking of which, their voice was simply gorgeous, melodious and resounding, echoing through him like the sweetest song, and he’d do anything to hear it again and again…
(“Alright, I get it, they’re beautiful.”
“Grace shut, demand.”
“Wow.)
“I said,” they demanded, taking one small –cute cute cute!– step closer. “Give. It. Back.”
If Rocky could swoon, he would’ve.
“And I said,” Mark replied, trying to appear calm even if his voice shook, seeing just how tall the stranger was, “this is none of your business, you upperclass freak.”
Indeed, there was the carving signifying that the gorgeous stranger belonged to a class higher than Mark or –gulp– Rocky.
The stranger made a humming sound, a threatening growl if he’s ever heard one.
Promptly, Rocky’s heart started beating right out of his carapace, his world narrowing to the low sound, his invention in the hands of Mark all but forgotten.
Suddenly, the stranger reached out and snatched the puppet from Mark’s hand so quickly that nobody had the time to even try to stop him.
“Scatter,” the stranger growled, a resounding sound that made Rocky’s insides feel all fluttery. “Or I’ll go tell your teacher exactly what you did. And when I do,” he tilted downwards, towards the offending pebbles, “you won’t like what’s gonna happen.”
The pebbles scattered almost instantly, blending into the crowd. For a moment, one long, beautiful moment, it was only Rocky and the stranger, standing there, feeling each other out by means of echolocation.
Somehow, the stranger got even more gorgeous the longer Rocky looked at him. He got unreasonably afraid to speak, to ruin whatever spell it seemed they were under. If he spoke, the stranger might be displeased, he’s not much to look at, after all, even less to listen to, and he would surely find a way to ruin this, whatever it was, before it even began–
Then the stranger tilted their carapace from side to side in a clear display of nervousness. Nervous? Why would they be nervous because of me–?
“Um,” they said, their voice much more unsure than it had been a moment ago, “this is yours, I take it?”
“Hm?” Rocky looked down at the stranger’s extended hand. “Oh! Oh!” he exclaimed then, spotting his puppet.
He quickly grabbed it, putting it away. He shifted nervously. He needed to say something, to talk to them, but what could he say?!
“Um. Thanks,” he settled on.
“Thanks?” That’s the best I can do?!
“I mean. Uh. Thank you so much,” he half-bowed in gratitude. The stranger bobbed on their feet.
“Please, there’s no need to thank me,” they replied shakily. “A-anyone would’ve done that, I’m sure.”
That got Rocky to pause.
“They didn’t, though. Only you did,” he pointed out.
The stranger trilled timidly.
“You, um, I heard you talking during the tour. You’re very smart, it’d be a shame to have something of yours destroyed by a bunch of assholes, you know?” they said bashfully.
And oh, Rocky knew his heart was forever lost.
It was then that he heard the shrill voice of Mrs Amethyst, his teacher, calling all of the pebbles to gather and get ready to leave. He nearly jumped out of his carapace at that, surprised and dismayed.
A sudden feeling of dread squeezed his stomach.
“That’s your teacher, right?” the stranger asked, and Rocky knew they couldn’t part ways now, not when they’d only just met.
Rationally, he knew mingling with the higher class was not a good idea, and that he’d known the stranger for only about a minute or two, but he knew he wanted to know them better, better than anyone, for as long as they’d have him.
If they’d have him, that is.
“What’s your name?” he asked desperately. “I’m Rocky, fifty fourth of my name, third class citizen, my family hailing from the deserts near the great sea, student at the Seventh District Upper School.” He did his best to properly feel out all of the sounds, trying to present himself as elegantly as he possibly could in his haste.
The stranger tweeted, high and shy. “I am Adrian, seventy second of my name, second class citizen, my family hailing from the crystal caves, student at Third District Science Upper School.”
Adrian. Adrian Adrian Adrian.
He had never been surer of anything in his life than of the thought that he’d have Adrian’s name carved on his arm one day.
“A pleasure to meet you, Rocky,” Adrian trilled breathlessly, and Rocky didn’t even notice when his teacher had gently bumped into him to guide him back to the rest of his class, nor the puppet slipping out of his belt pocket, but he knew what to do the moment it clattered to the ground.
“Keep it,” he yelled at Adrian, doing his best to kick it in their direction. “It’s a gift! A gift from Rocky!”
He remembers Adrian trilling lightly, cheerfully back at him in thanks, lifting it off the ground and cradling it to their body protectively, uncaring of the judgemental hums of their classmates.
And Rocky knew, deep in his heart, that they’d see each other again. He chirped happily, his heart feeling three times bigger and about ready to pop.
Adrian. What a beautiful, beautiful name.
*
“Awww, Rock, that was so sweet!” Grace said, wiping a stray tear. “I can’t wait to meet them, they sound great!”
“Yes yes yes, Adrian bestest smartest Eridian,” Rocky agreed as he bounced around in his ball. “Grace finish coffee now?”
“Yeah, I have,” the man realized, looking down at his now-empty mug.
“Then Grace rise and grind, demand.”
The man laughed as he stood up. “Where did you learn that?”
“Portable thinking machine, duh.”
“Of course. Duh.”