Chapter Text
Bright, dazzling sparks fly as I weld, fixing any holes in the piece of metal in front of me. I’m currently fixing an exterior panel for the Hail Mary. Rocky works beside me, happily chirping as he builds a replacement panel. Since the ship got damaged when we were collecting the Taumoeba, we figured we may as well try fixing it, after all, we have plenty of time till we reach Erid.
Stifling a yawn, I place the welder down and lean closer to inspect my handiwork. Yep. Still ugly. Rocky says something beside me but I don’t catch it. Shooting him a look of confusion, I remove my hearing protection. “What’d you say, buddy?”
Rocky stomps one of his feet, feigning annoyance. “Humans so blind. Grace can see, question?”
Laughing, I nod. “Yeah, I hear you.” Rocky seems to huff, at least that’s what I thought that trill meant.
“Grace tired again, question?” The engineer chirps, notes lower than usual. He’s worried. Shaking my head in response, I lean against the lab table.
"I’ll be fine,” I say, waving him off. “Taumoeba keeps me alive, but I’d kill for an actual cheeseburger.” Rocky doesn’t seem amused.
“You sleep.”
Chewing on my bottom lip, I sigh, giving in. We abandon today’s work as we walk to the dormitory section of the Hail Mary. Rocky chitters as I slip into my bunk. The moment I lie down, the exhaustion I’d been ignoring settles over me like a lead blanket. “Night, Rocky,” I murmur, wrapping my quilt tightly around me. “I watch,” my friend trills, getting comfortable on his side of the xenonite.
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The television hummed as it played Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood. My eyes seemed to be glued to the screen.
I felt a comforting hand run through my hair.
My body was glued to someone’s side as I watched the show.
I turn my head to look at the person sitting beside me. Stratt smiles softly at me.
“Are you ready for breakfast, Ry?”
Her voice was soothing and kind, as if she were speaking to a child.
This was very out of character for the Stratt I remembered…. What sort of dream is this?
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Bang.
My eyes fly open.
More banging.
My heart hammers against my ribs before I realize the sound is coming from the xenonite wall. I sit up, clutching my pillow to my chest. Rocky and walking back and forth on his side of the xenonite.
“Grace okay, question? You heart rate speed up. You die, question? Grace die like crew, question?!” Rocky chirps, panicking.
I take a few deep breaths to calm myself. My heart was racing in my chest. “Sorry, Rock. Just a bad dream,” I explain, sighing as I tighten my grip on my pillow. My breathing and heart rate slowed.
Rocky continued to walk back and forth, but less panicked.
“Rocky does not know that word.”
“Dreams are visions that humans have sometimes when they are asleep. They are usually imagination, but can be memories.” I mumble, rubbing my eyes sleepily. I guess it’s time to get up now. After putting the pillow down and unwrapping myself from my quilt-cocoon, I walk into the lab again. Rocky follows, moving alongside me through the clear xenonite. I sit on the swivel chair and take out
my tools, but Rocky pauses, watching me warily.
“Why Grace not eat, question?” He trills, not moving to get his tools.
I blink, tapping my chin. How odd. I guess I’m just off this morning. “Well.. I forgot. Thanks for the reminder, bud. Armando, food please.” As soon as my voice leaves my throat, the robot arm moves, bringing me a tube of Taumoeba.
We had run out of human food a while ago, so sadly I’ve been living off this slop. Taumoeba is not an ideal food, but I guess it’s better than nothing.
The small tube is placed in my hand and I frown. This food tastes like dirt and I really don’t want to eat it.. My eyes drift to the floor. I’d give just about anything for a greasy cheeseburger.
Rocky stomps his foot. “You must eat, statement. I worried.” He twitters.
After sighing, I fiddle with the cap of the tube before hesitantly popping it open. “I’m on it, Rock. There’s no need to be so concerned.” I say, offering him a reassuring smile. Before raising the tube to my lips and trying to swallow the disgusting substance. I gag but manage to get it down.
“Grace not eating enough recently. Less eating makes you tired, question?” The eridian chirps, watching me choke the slop down.
The cold tube suddenly seems wrong in my hand. Too big. I cap the tube and place it in the lab table, willing the weird thoughts away. “Yeah.” I rub the back of my neck. “It’s fine, though, bud. Just… got a lot on my mind.”
Rocky clicks quietly, his carapace shifting as he thinks. After a moment of awkwardness, he raises a hand and places it on the xenonite barrier. “Then say Grace thoughts. So Rocky can hear.” The engineer sings, sounding proud of his idea. I laugh dryly. As if it were that easy.
“Finish Taumoeba food!”
I huff. No way he was still on about that. Sighing, I mutter a reply, “Later, I’m not hungry, Rock.” Rocky lets out the trill I’d come to recognize as annoyance.
My shoulders sag and I frown. It felt like he was mad at me. “You eat less every day. You must eat more, or will die! No die die die!” Rocky trills, shifting on his legs awkwardly. I know he’s worried about me… but God. He was acting like a parent, and something warm twisted in my chest…. and for one awful second, I wanted him to keep fussing over me.
Stomping angrily, Rocky trills, “Grace say ‘later’ everyday!”
Offering him a playful smile, I joke, “Come on, buddy. I’m still vertical.” Rocky stares at me, unmoving. “Grace was horizontal one sleep cycle ago.” Then..
“Rocky afraid.”
My blood runs cold and I clench my knee tightly, frozen. I turn my head away from him, as if that would prevent him from seeing my teary eyes or pained expression. My hand reaches out to the lab table and I pick up the Taumoeba tube, turning it around in my hands.
Rocky stays quiet for a few seconds, seemingly watching me.
After a long moment of silence, he sings lowly, “Grace not taking care of Grace.” He pauses, tilting his carapace downwards. My body tenses. Rocky only wants me to be okay. That’s why he looks after me. Guilt gnaws at my chest. I sniffle, eyes tearing up.
“I’m sorry, Rocky,” I mumble, resisting the urge to pull my knees up to my chest. Rocky shifts his legs awkwardly before chirping, “Grace eat now, question?”
Laughing softly, I nod, popping the lid of the tube open again.
“I’ll try.”
I pop the cap open again. The Taumoeba still tastes like dirt. Rocky watches until I manage to swallow the goop down. Only then does he return to his work.