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I drift in and out of consciousness, when suddenly a cacophony of loud noise hits my eardrums. It sounds like someone smashing all the keys on a piano at once while playing and stomping on a bunch of bag pipes.
What on earth?
Slowly the overlapping musical notes start translating into sentences in my still half-asleep brain. Someone’s yelling. Loudly.
Grace?! Grace, wake up!
Grace leak!
Huh… now that I think about it there seems to be an unpleasant stickiness between my legs. What the heck?
The voice continues, Why Grace leak blood, question? Grace dying, question?! No, no, no. Bad, bad, bad!
That finally snaps me out of the sleepy daze I was in. What is Rocky talking about? Am I bleeding? I sit up in bed glancing over to Rocky’s side of the xenonite, where she usually watches me when I sleep. Instead of casually loafing, Rocky is frantically pacing around her side of the Hail Mary.
She seems utterly panicked, anxious trills vibrating out of her carapace. My heart sinks. She hasn’t looked this scared since the Adrian incident.
“Rocky, hey, what are you talking about?” Rocky stops her pacing and instead turns the “front side” of her carapace in my direction.
Grace leak blood in sleep! Grace injured, Rocky can’t fix, you wouldn’t wake up. Bad, bad, bad! Her notes are low, a tone I’ve come to read as something resembling sorrow or anxiety.
I still don’t really understand what she’s talking about. I feel fine, and as far as I can see there’s nothing resembling an injury anywhere on my body. I shift a little on the mattress and feel something wet and sticky underneath me again.
Okay, that is weird. I hastily pull away the blanket covering my legs and am met with possibly the most unpleasant sight one can be met with (maybe aside from waking up on a spaceship in another star-system with no memories). A small bloodstain has formed on my underwear and stained the bed sheets. Great, just great.
It suddenly dawns on me. I never told Rocky about periods. No wonder she’s in so much distress!
“I’m okay really, it’s just…“ I trail off. How on earth do I explain periods to a hermaphrodite rock alien with an almost completely sealed off inner ecosystem, who also already thinks of me as a “leaky space blob”.
I groan, come to think of it, why the heck haven’t I gotten one before today. I’ve been awake for over a year at this point.
The obvious answer pushes to the forefront of my brain. Stratt. Of course she would do something like this. Of course she would have Armando administer me some sort of hormone blocker like the pill to get rid of any pesky mission hindering bodily functions.
Or well, the other plausible cause would be stress. After all, waking up alone in a different star-system with the near impossible task to save the entirety of humanity, finding out said mission is in fact a suicide mission, meeting and bonding with an alien and almost dying in the process of it all seems like the sort of situation a body might conclude pregnancy is off the table in.
Anyway, back to the problem at hand. How the heck am I supposed to reassure Rocky that this is normal and that I’m in fact not dying? Maybe let’s start from the top.
“Okay so, I’ve told you about human reproduction before haven’t I?”
Rocky stops pacing and faces me again, then responds.
Yes, why Grace ask, question?
“Well… I may or may not have forgotten to explain one part of that, specifically one that usually concerns me but hasn’t in a while.” I gesture vaguely at my crotch and the ever growing stain of blood.
Oh fudge. Do we even have pads on the Hail Mary?
If we do Armando will know where they are… right?
“Uhm— wait a sec.” I tell Rocky, holding up a finger for her to see. Then I call out for the ship’s computer.
“Mary, do we have any feminine hygiene products on the ship?”
The arms descend from the ceiling and Mary’s melodious voice rings through the room.
“Feminine hygiene includes, pads—“ I cut her off.
“One of those please!” Armando moves across the room to a small wall panel. It opens and the claw plucks out a small plastic wrapped packet. All the while, Rocky has been standing in the same spot almost motionless, except for the occasional finger clicking here and there. She’s seems to be watching intently.
As soon as the robot arm hands me the packet and I stand up, she asks.
What that, question?
“Oh. It’s a pad. Like a small piece of cloth designed to absorb the blood, it’s got one sticky side so you can put it into your underwear without it sliding around… much.”
I start to walk towards the small bathroom, but Rocky’s voice stops me.
Where Grace going, question? Still leaky. Even more leaky now! Bad, bad, bad!
“I just want to quickly change my underwear and get this bad-boy in there before we continue this conversation. And yeah that can happen due to gravity, but it’s normal! Everything is fine I promise!” I wave the pad around halfheartedly.
Rocky worried still, blood supposed to stay inside squishy human except if injured, but Grace leaking blood even though say not injured. Confusing.
As I turn to leave again she calls out one more time, this time scuttling away from her sleep-watching platform.
Grace wait! I come watch. Must make sure Grace really not injured.
I sigh, but wait for her to come out of her airlock anyways. So what if she watches me change, it’s not like my body is anything new to her. Rocky can literally “see” through clothes. Still, I feel an awkward blush creep up my face as I wait.
A few minutes later, the distinct hissing sound of the airlock fills the room and Rocky walks out as soon as the doors on my side slide open. She’s in the flexible xenonite suit she made a few months ago to be able to more efficiently help out around the Hail Mary. Or at least so she says. I personally believe she just wanted to be able to fully hug me, but she keeps denying it. Whatever floats her boat I suppose.
Rocky actually accompanies me to the bathroom (I know she said so, but can’t a girl be surprised nonetheless?) and even demands to be inside with me, which turns out to be quite the struggle as her legs are a bit too wide for the narrow doorframe. In the end we manage to squeeze her into the tiny room.
I change my underpants and put on the pad under Rocky’s careful watch. How do I know a literal rock without a face or eyes is watching me? Well, the incessant clicking coming from her carapace is a pretty dead giveaway. At least she seems to have calmed down a bit again.
We settle on the floor, as my bed still has about a palm-sized bloodstain in the middle of the mattress, and I finally continue my earlier explanation.
“Okay, so, female humans get something called a period. Basically every month our bodies prepare to get pregnant. So the inside of the female reproductive organ thickens. This is called the uterine lining and if a pregnancy doesn’t happen the body then gets rid of the unnecessary tissue by expelling it alongside about 60 millilitres of blood through the vaginal opening.
Sometimes our bodies try to help that shedding go faster and the uterus contracts which is referred to as cramps. These can range from mild discomfort to debilitating pain. Some people find heating pads or similarly warm objects to help ease the pain a bit. ”
Rocky listens to my monologue, then tilts her carapace in the way I’ve come to understand as mild confusion.
So why this ♪♫♩♪ not happen sooner, question?
“Well, that could be for a few different reasons, for one if the body is under too much stress, it sometimes doesn’t prepare for pregnancy because the conditions just aren’t optimal, but there’s also artificial ways to alter the hormones in the body and send signals to prolong or even stop a period from happening over the long term. I’m not entirely sure what happened in my case, but both options seem plausible enough.”
Oh, understand. Understand.
Rocky starts clicking in my direction a few times.
Can hear Grace reproductive organ, is constricting. Grace discomfort or hurt, question?
Now that she mentions it, I do feel a familiar dull ache squeezing away at my insides. Great. I suppose all I can do is hope it doesn’t get any worse.
Wait!
I have the best possible heating pad standing right in front of me! Rocky is usually at least 210°C, and while xenonite is a pretty damn good insulator, it can’t absorb and shield the outside from all of the heat contained inside. So usually Rocky is still pretty warm, if not to say hot to the touch. Not enough to burn a squishy human like me, but enough to make for the perfect heating pad.
“A bit, yes.”
Is there way Rocky can help ease discomfort and pain, question?
“There is actually. Like I mentioned earlier, heat can help and well you’re sooooo nice and warm and the perfect temperature…” I bat my eyelashes at her in what I hope comes across as bashful and cute.
Rocky’s carapace bobs lightly up and down as she giggles. After few more giggles she hums fondly.
Grace want cuddle, question?
I nod enthusiastically, then remember the crime-scene like mess I have to clean up before I can get anywhere close to cuddling. I frown and push myself up from the floor. Rocky trails after me happily and settles next to the bed as I change the sheets. When asked about helping out she only offers “words of encouragement”, so much for making the suit to help out, huh.
Around ten minutes of struggling with the bedsheets later, I finally let myself fall onto the clean mattress, sighing in contentment. Rocky climbs onto the bed as well and lays down (or loafs as I like to call it) next to me. I immediately fold myself around her, hugging her carapace close to my chest. Her warmth seeps into me and eases the cramping muscles in my abdomen ever so slightly.
In response one of her little claws reaches up and strokes my hair, a gesture I’ve come to crave over the past few times we’ve done this. The steady movements lull me back to sleep, but before I can drift off completely a few musical notes pull me out of my slumber.
Grace comfortable, question?
“Mhm ‘m very comfy…” Is all I manage to say in response before letting my eyes fall shut.