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I pace another round back and forth in my bedroom. It’s nearing nighttime, and Rocky should be here soon to watch me sleep, but I can’t even get myself into the shower, much less settled down to be able to rest. I attended a class today, as I do almost every week to learn about Eridian history, science or biology. I’ve taken language courses too, but they don’t help as much when I don’t understand the language consistently to begin with.
Today’s class was biology. We learned about the Eridian healing process. We learned about what exactly happens within an Eridian’s body when they get injured, how they protect themselves to keep the heat in. It brought back memories that are still fresh in my head and in my heart as well, memories that I didn’t want to remember in the middle of class, memories that I wish weren’t real. Back on the Mary, when Rocky got injured, when he tried to heal and I tried to help him and I almost killed him in the process. He was annoyingly chill about it, and we still had things to do so I didn’t dwell on it too much at the time. I’ve had plenty of time to think about it on the way to Erid, plenty of time to forgive myself. I never managed. I just wanted to help him. I could’ve made him a heat lamp or something instead, maybe that would’ve helped, but no, I had to build a fudging blower and literally tear the scabs off his wounds like the stupid idiot I am.
I pace another round. My legs are starting to feel heavy, I’ve been at it for at least 20 minutes if not more. I don’t really feel time passing the same I did back on Earth. The dome is on a somewhat steady schedule with the lights that changes with the artificial seasons, but time itself feels different. Plus the extra gravity has been giving me a couple problems lately. My bones are not as strong as they used to be, not after being depleted of necessary vitamins for a long time, even if that was a handful of years ago.
I met Adrian a couple of days after I gained my cognitive functions back and wasn’t actively dying anymore. I like Adrian. I’m not sure they shared the sentiment at first, and back on the Mary I begged Rocky not to tell them what I had done. Rocky didn’t understand why. I didn’t understand why he didn’t understand. I nearly murdered him — that particular word still makes a chill run down my spine, remembering it tearing out of my own throat — and he was just going to tattle to his mate. He insisted that I was just trying to help and it was actually nice of me to do that, but he did promise not to tell Adrian about it. It’s still like that to this day. Adrian still doesn’t know and if it depends on me, they never will.
My breathing is shallow and painful, my lungs constricting. The guilt sits like a heavy weight on my chest like when my chair pressed me against the screens, when I couldn’t draw breath, I was suffocating, fully aware of the fact that I was. My burn marks itch on my arm, but I resist the urge to scratch them. For now, anyway. Rocky was so mad at me for injuring myself to save him, but it was such a little thing compared to him risking his life to save me. And then I almost killed him.
My breath hitches and I can’t draw my next inhale. My hands lift to my hair on their own volition, grabbing onto the strands to ground myself. Okay, okay, I’m starting to panic. I’m starting to panic and if Rocky finds me like this, I won’t be able to explain myself. I need to calm down. I need to even my breath out, but how do I do that, when everything hurts and getting dark at the edges and I almost killed Rocky!?
How am I supposed to calm down and stop panicking when I nearly took Adrian’s mate away from him, when I nearly took an innocent life, who risked his own to save mine even though I was not worth saving, I was a coward, I was willing to give up the lives of billions of people to keep my own peace and not leave my comfort zone. I’m pathetic and I’m a loser and I almost killed Rocky, oh, God.
I curl into the corner of my room after another lap, and pull my knees up to put my elbows on it, cradling the back of my head and desperately trying to get oxygen into my system. I didn’t kill Rocky, I didn’t kill him, he’s fine, he’s just at work, he will be here soon, and oh God, he has friends on Erid and his entire crew died, and those families are grieving still, I saw them myself when they thanked me for bringing Rocky back to them at least, and they don’t know that I’m an idiot, they don’t know what I’ve done, they don’t know that I’m a horrible, terrible, moronic—
I gasp for air, clawing at my neck; I’m sure it will leave marks, but I can’t calm down. Armando says something in my periphery, and the arms move towards me, but I swat at them.
“No!” I manage to choke out. If Armando gives me a sedative now, I will wake up in this same condition, and Rocky will have questions about why I was sedated to begin with and then I will have to remind him how horrible of a friend I am, how I messed up, how I almost killed him, and then Erid would’ve died because I wouldn’t have known how to get the Taumeoba to Threeworld and it would’ve all been my fault. It would’ve been my fault.
I can’t breathe. My vision is swimming, I’m wheezing, my entire body is shaking and I can’t catch my breath and Eridians keep calling me their savior and I’m anything but a savior, I nearly doomed them, I’m horrible, awful, I’m an idiot, it would’ve been all my fault.
My fault, my fault, my fault—
“Grace?” comes a gentle chitter from somewhere in the direction of the living room, and I try to choke out something, anything, to keep whoever is here from finding me in this condition. My cheeks are wet, my eyes are burning and I can’t breathe and I’m about to puke— “Grace!? Grace okay, question!?”
It’s Rocky. I can hear his scuttling towards me, but I can’t breathe. A desperate, strained sob breaks out of my chest.
“Grace! Grace! Grace answer Rocky, statement!” Rocky is scared, and I stressed him out and oh God, I almost killed him. I almost ended his life and I wouldn’t have even known. The guilt is drowning me and maybe I deserve it. Maybe I should’ve done more research, maybe I should’ve trusted Rocky, but I’m a self-centered moron and I thought I knew better, and I thought I was helping and it would’ve been all my fault—
Rocky’s high-pitched noises bring me back to the moment against the screens, and now I can’t breathe for a different reason. He must have been so scared then. He must have been so scared that I was going to die on him, that he would never get to go home again, that he would die, and then I was nearly the reason he was going to do exactly that.
“Grace!” he squeaks, and taps my head as if he could see into my brain and understand what’s happening. He probably can, I don’t even know right now, I don’t know anything, I never did, oh, God, I’m so stupid— “Grace thinking bad thoughts again. Rocky is here,” his voice is slightly calmer now, he probably realized that his panic is making me panic, and he is so kind and considerate and he’s so smart and fuck, I almost killed him. “Rocky is here,” he says, gently prying my hands out of my hair and burrowing in-between my limbs until he is as close as his weight allows. He makes my legs straighten out and puts a little bit of his weight on my thighs, and I slump over his suit, finally able to breathe. But the ability to breathe comes with the ability to properly cry, and I find myself wailing, holding onto him and babbling nonsense. “Why Grace sorry?” he asks and I let out another series of sobs. Oops, I must have voiced some of my thoughts.
“I— I al-almost—” I try to wipe at my face with the end of my sweater sleeve, but I just end up punching myself in the nose. “I almost k-killed y-you, Rock,” I sob against him, holding onto him like my life depends on it. I’m still trembling, my palms are sweating and they keep sliding off of his suit which makes me panic more as if he would suddenly vanish from existence if I let him go.
“Grace did not know,” Rocky says with soft, low notes, like he is murmuring to me as his claw runs through my messed up hair. “Grace only try to help. Rocky not mad. Adrian not mad.”
“Y-you,” I wheeze, pulling away from him and wiping at my eyes with trembling hands. I thankfully don’t punch myself in the nose again, but I come really close to it. “You told them!?”
“No. Adrian is here.”
I look up, startled, sobs still trembling in my chest, and I stare at the large, blue, blurry form behind Rocky.
“Adrian, I’m s-so sorry,” I breathe. I’m light-headed, I’m trembling so much I can barely sit upright. Rocky’s arms slide around my torso to hold me in place. “I’m s-so s-sorry.”
“What happened?” they ask, and their voice is gentle.
“I- I’m a moron, I’m an idiot, I’m so, so stupid, I— When Rocky saved me and came into my atmosphere, I-I t-tried to help him when I— I brought him back to his part of the ship a-and I made th-this… blow… thing, t-to get what I thought was s-soot out of his vents. A-and that was— that was a healing thing, and I— if I did it earlier I could’ve killed him, Adrian, I could’ve killed him and you would’ve lost your mate and it would’ve been a-all m-my fault and I’m s-so sorry,” there are tears flowing down my face, but I’m not sobbing anymore. My breathing is still ragged, but Rocky’s weight on my thighs is grounding me and my lungs are expanding again. “I’m so, so terribly sorry.”
“Is not Grace fault,” Adrian says softly, taking one single step closer — it’s nearly enough to cross the whole room — and they fold their legs under themself to loaf a little behind Rocky at my feet. “Grace only try to help my Rocky. Adrian thankful. Grace is okay. Grace is safe. Rocky is okay and safe. Nothing bad happened.”
“B-but, I… I almost—”
“Grace save Rocky life when turn ship around. Grace give up go home when Grace turn ship around. Rocky alive because of Grace. Grace make mistake. No big deal. Rocky alive. Rocky well,” Rocky coos at me and there are new tears streaming down my face that I don’t want to stop this time. I wrap my arms around Rocky again, the itching from my healed burn marks slowly fading away into nothingness. “Rocky has no long term health effects because of Grace mistake. Rocky visited doctor Eridian. Rocky has no sickness. Rocky is healthy. All because of Grace.”
“I love you so much, bud,” I warble, still clutching him like my life depends on it. It probably does, at this point.
“Rocky love Grace too. Adrian love Grace too. Grace is okay. Grace no need feel guilt. Grace change clothes and Grace sleep. Rocky Adrian watch. Statement.”
“Okay,” I whisper, waiting until Rocky climbs back off of me. He taps my chest with his claw gently before he completely crawls off of me.
“Grace heart returning to normal. Grace not panicking anymore, question?”
“No, bud, I’m not,” I breathe, slowly, wiping my sweaty palms on my pants sticking to my equally as sweaty thighs. “I have to take a shower. I’m gross.”
“Grace leak all over.”
“Yeah, bud,” I huff, gently rubbing my face as I pull myself into standing with Rocky’s help. “Grace leak all over.”
“Leaky, leaky, leaky space blob,” Rocky grumbles and I allow myself to let out a soft laugh. “Disgust, disgust, disgust.”
“Thanks, bud,” I pat the top of his suit with another gentle laugh and grab my pajamas, gently running my hand along the top of Adrian’s carapace. “Thank you, Adrian.”
“Grace is welcome,” they croon, lifting an arm when Rocky bumps against it to drape it over their mate. “Grace go clean. Rocky Adrian play music to not hear.”
“Thanks, guys,” I say softly, walking away towards the bathroom. I hear the clicking of my laptop keyboard, and soon music fills the room. Rocky has become quite fond of classical music lately, especially Mozart, and I don’t mind listening to it at all, either. They usually put the laptop in-between themselves and me to distort the picture enough so that they can’t ‘see’ me anymore when I want privacy. Which is… admittedly, not often anymore, but showering is still one of those things that I don’t necessarily want watched every time.
By the time I’m done with my shower, I’m a pink, steaming nugget, wrung out and exhausted. At least I won’t have trouble sleeping anymore. I crawl onto my bed and move my leg for Rocky to be able to crawl onto the mattress without crushing any of my bones and situate himself gently over my chest. Adrian loafs next to the bed, close enough that I feel their warmth and can touch their carapace if I want to, but not crowding me.
“Grace sleep,” Rocky chitters gently, getting comfortable on top of me. “Rocky Adrian watch.”
“Good night,” I say, already halfway to dreamland, fingers still trembling, but calm now. Rocky is here and Rocky is safe. He’s healthy. I didn’t hurt him long-term. It’s alright.
“Sleep good, Grace,” Adrian coos, tilting against my hand with a purr. I gently pat their carapace and close my eyes, relaxing my muscles, letting sleep pull me under. I’ve never been safer.