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Grace was getting old. Back on Earth, he'd been able to wrangle two dozen overexcited middle schoolers in public. And now, just a few hours into this field trip, he was sprawled out on the beach, leaning against Adrian, his legs burning with exertion.
Eridian hatchlings were more of a handful than his human students. They were younger, for one thing. And they had many more legs with which to scamper about and prod at things and fall all over each other. And voices that ranged from shrill to squeaky, pelting him with questions and comments until his ears started to ring.
A few parents were with them, having offered to help herd the exuberant bunch. At first, Grace had almost declined. His amnesia still lingered, but he did remember nightmarish chaperones on Earth field trips who insisted that their kid Kayleigh-Roxanne could only go on bus rides if Gregorian chants were played at a low volume and a humidifier diffused organic lavender oil.
But these Eridian parents were good sports. Laid back like Grace might not have been, if a freaking alien had invited his hypothetical kids into its habitat, in nothing but thin, transparent suits.
Well. Maybe if that alien had helped save his world.
"Ryland biodome a 'hit' with younglings, expression," Adrian said.
Compared to Rocky, Adrian was massive. They were an inch or so taller than Grace, and their shell was so thick that it felt like even more. They towered over almost every other Eridian Grace had met.
There was a specific small divot in their carapace that was the perfect resting place for the back of Grace's skull. They'd gently maneuvered him until his head sank into that spot, ignoring his half-hearted protests that he'd get back up again in a second.
Grace smiled. The sand was cool under his ass, but Adrian was warm even through their suit. He kept his eyes half-open, peering out at the sea and the gaggle of kids that were playing in the waves. "Yeah. I'm glad this is going so well."
"Listen!" Sebastian, one of the older ones, trilled. They'd been dipping in and out of the foamy spray, and now held out their wet leg. "Water drops on suit! Is not floating!"
"Earth gravity not that low," said Gwen, who was examining the time it took for their footprints to fill back up with wet sand. "Sebastian dumb, statement."
"Not!" Sebastian shook water off of their suit. The low whistle under their words was smug. "Made bet with Kyle. I won. Kyle said drops would float."
Rocky was a little further down the beach. The smallest kid, Maisie, had climbed onto his suited shell. Rocky stood fearlessly in the surf, letting the waves lap at his legs and body. He was talking in quiet tones, probably explaining why the water was cold and what made it so loud.
Adrian had made several low cooing sounds when Rocky headed over to where the little one was sitting and shivering every time a wave crashed ashore. Rocky had tossed back a melody of mild exasperation. Grace muffled a laugh with a fake cough.
He couldn't blame Adrian for going a little gooey over their mate. Rocky was good at this: speaking gently, prompting Maisie to climb him for a safer vantage point.
He would make a great parent some day. Grace took a deep breath of the salty air, then let it back out slowly. A small, directionless ache sat in his chest.
Adrian nudged him, gentle turquoise claws against his shoulder. "Need drink, question?"
"No, no." Grace nudged an elbow back against their solid shell. "There are children present."
He had brought a bottle of water down and stashed it between some rocks, out of sight. The Eridians could hear it anyway, but he figured it was the thought that counted. His throat was kind of dry, especially after being chased around by the kids earlier. But he didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable.
The parents were chattering to each other a bit further away. One of them had brought some sort of project. Their claws were busy, moving too fast to be seen clearly through the xenonite of their loose-fitting suit. It resembled Rocky's engineering, though the result— a fuzzy, medium orange— looked more like fabric than metal.
"—try brushes from ♬♩," a light-colored Eridian with a streak of pretty brownish quartz through their long, slim body suggested. The last word, Grace didn't know. Probably a city or settlement. "If that not work, have patience. These etchings still new."
"At least here, dust not stuck inside," the oldest of them said, their vents quivering as they blew out ammonia in annoyance. They'd picked the name Katie, which Grace thought was odd for someone so girthy and deep-voiced. "Bothersome. My oldest child says I sound like youngling-rebel who annoys parent and got bonded too early."
The adults all chortled, tapping their feet in amusement. Katie had found a new mate recently, which Grace had been told was unusual for a widowed Eridian. The two had had their mating ceremony just a month ago. Katie now sported a fresh set of etchings and a new mate-mark, respectfully laid just beneath the old one.
The adults weren't even talking to Grace, but still simplifying their speech a little so he could understand. It was very polite. And unnecessary— Grace had told them he wouldn't feel excluded if they spoke normally.
"'m not tired," he said, when he became aware of the low vibration in his chest and stomach.
Adrian was humming. The sound wasn't picked up by his ears, but he felt it inside, like his body was a tuning fork. It was a frequency that did something complex to his hindbrain. He relaxed, limbs going loose and warm.
"Of course," Adrian said mildly. "And Ryland's pants burning in metaphor."
It took Grace a moment to understand: Liar, liar, pants on fire. Adrian really liked human expressions and idioms. He smiled without opening his eyes. "Okay, I'm maybe resting my eyes a little. That's all…"
"Teacher Grace!"
Grace held back a groan. Engaging his core again, after Adrian had turned him to mush, felt cruel. But he sat up. Anything for the pebbles.
He pushed his glasses back up from where they'd started to slip down his nose, and peered at his student. "Hi, Kyle. Having fun?"
"Yes fun yes yes habitat yes fun!" Kyle chattered, not too concerned with syntax. They'd gotten sand caked onto their suit, which now spattered onto Grace's pants from their excited bouncing. "Water sea waves foam noise! Fun!"
There was a reddish-black blur as Elliott barreled into Kyle. "Fun too!" they screeched, high enough that Grace's ears stung and Adrian made a protesting warble.
Elliott was Kyle's age, but often acted a little younger. They were always hungry for Grace's attention, and at first he'd thought they were just thrilled to talk to an alien. But it'd become a pattern— sometimes even to the detriment of the other kids.
He'd been wondering what to do about it. Elliott was a sweet, excitable child, and didn't strike him as selfish by nature. He wasn't sure what was going on at home. Maybe Elliott's parents didn't have much time for them, or there was some other upheaval disrupting their personal life.
On Earth, he might have contacted the parents and tried to probe deeper. On Erid, he was treading more carefully. Eridians might be happy to have him teach their kids about Earth, but he wasn't sure how they'd react if he tried to meddle beyond his classroom.
"That's nice," he said. Elliott had sand on their suit too. "But inside voices, remember?"
"We are outside," Elliott pointed out. They crowded close, their black and red carapace vibrating with excitement. Kyle was grumbling, digging themselves out of the surf. "All outside in Teacher Grace biodome."
"Well, technically it's still inside." Grace gestured upwards. "It's probably too far away to hear, but there's xenonite between us and the lamps. The point is, my ears are a bit sensitive."
"You're too loud!" Kyle said. They leaned into the next small wave that pushed itself up the beach, letting it wash some sand off their suit.
Elliott wilted. "Oh. Hurt Teacher Grace, question?" Even the dual tap of their leg was small, cowed.
"No, no." Grace patted the top of their suit. Elliott stretched to meet his hand through the thin material. "I'm fine, buddy, don't worry."
Kyle shoved themselves next to Elliott, dislodging them from Grace's side. Grace tensed, but Elliott just giggled, their frantic clamor for attention sated for now. Kyle fluted a happy, wordless noise. "Race Teacher Grace again, question?"
Grace winced. He'd raced the kids a bunch of times already, and they had a lot more energy than he did. "Um, maybe later," he hedged.
"Rocky will race," Rocky said.
For creatures with five legs who sometimes still triggered Grace's ingrained 'it's a spider!' reaction when he saw them from the corner of his eye, Eridians were surprisingly sneaky. Rocky had appeared almost out of thin air. Grace raised one eyebrow at him and got back a visible preen, Rocky's front legs straightening.
Tiny Maisie was with Gwen and Sebastian, tentatively tapping their little feet in the shallowest, foamiest part of the waves. Gwen was sticking one leg deep into the sand, then pulling it back out, demonstrating that the ground was malleable but not dangerous.
"Yes!" Elliott crowed. They shook themselves, getting sand off their suit (and onto Grace's pants, again). "Big race! All down beach! Much excitement!"
"Rocky race!" Kyle joined in. They twirled in place, then scampered over to the line Grace had traced in the sand earlier, half-washed away by the surf, to mark the start of the racing strip.
A dissatisfied honk came from Katie. Although they'd been deep in conversation, part of their attention was still on the pebbles. "Kyle! Savior Rocky," they corrected, then sketched a bow towards them all. "Apology."
Rocky swished a leg, the one that had a permanent splint, through the surf in dismissal. "Too polite," he said. "Chaperone now, not savior. Just Rocky."
Kyle, who'd shrank back a little, now stood tall on all five feet. A faint melodious hiss came out of them. Grace heard no actual words, but it sounded smug.
"Race now!" Rocky said, and was off like a shot, running as fast as his legs would carry him through the wet sand.
Elliott and Kyle screeched almost in unison. "Rocky cheat!" Elliott howled and sprinted after him. Kyle dodged the resulting spray of wet sand and chirped in protest, scampering along a little slower.
Grace took his hands off his ears, grimacing. His eardrums felt tender. Between the kids and modern Eridian music, he'd be lucky if he didn't develop tinnitus.
"Ryland evade fast flying projectile, expression," Adrian said, amused.
"Yeah," Grace said, relaxing. Adrian's voice was deep, far below the kids' shrill registers. "Don't get me wrong, I love a good race, but…"
"They are many and you just one," Adrian agreed. They put a claw on Grace's arm, gently coaxing.
Grace obeyed and leaned back again. Adrian tilted obligingly to fit that groove to the back of his head. He grunted a wordless thanks and let his eyes sink shut.
If someone had told him years ago, after he'd just woken up aboard the Hail Mary, that he'd not only survive the mission, but find himself relaxing on a beach while a bunch of alien kids laughed and squeaked and played around him, he wouldn't have believed it.
This wasn't just everything he'd never thought he'd ever have again. This was more. This was hundreds of Eridian scientists working day and night to figure out how to keep him alive on their planet. Teaching again, getting to share his passion with curious young minds. And the deep, easy affection he shared with both Rocky and Adrian.
Back then, he might have spared a hopeful thought or two to his own survival. He never would have guessed, even in his wildest dreams, that he would come out of it all with friends. People who loved him, fiercely and unashamedly, and were eager to receive his own clumsy, unpracticed love in turn…
From further away came a cry, high and short. The sound jolted Grace out of his doze, yanking him back into his body. He opened one eye to peer down the beach— the kids seemed to have caught Rocky, and bowled him over into the surf.
He shifted against Adrian, frowning sleepily. Everything was fine. Why had his heart just thumped erratically? Perhaps he'd caught the beginnings of a nightmare.
"Sleep," Adrian said, their bass tones soothing. "Just for moment. Beach still here later."
"Nooo," Grace groaned, perfunctory. He was on the clock, this was a field trip, he was supposed to watch over everyone…
But Adrian was so warm, and the other adults were keeping watch, so perhaps it was alright to doze a little. He shut his eyes, letting his glasses slip a little down his nose. "Wake me if…"
There was laughter in Adrian's voice, a fond quiver in the harmonies. "Of course."
Grace dropped into half-sleep. Well, a bit deeper than that— three-quarters sleep? The surf lulled him. Adrian had started humming again, that frequency that Grace felt in his teeth and his gut and was somehow as comforting as a blanket straight from the dryer.
Faintly he heard the kids being corralled. A proper hunting party for Rocky was organized, the littlest one handed off to a parent despite their squeaky protests. Many feet scampering across wet sand, shouts and hoots from the kids, mingling in Grace's sleepy ears until he couldn't hear words anymore, just excitement.
He drifted through a blended-up mush of memory and dream. The water and the high voices melted easily into a public pool on Earth. A scent of summer and soggy French fries, sweat collecting under his armpits in the hot summer sun…
Sunscreen smeared on his bony teenaged shoulders. Burning the roof of his mouth with a hotdog. Telling some of the other kids that there wasn't a lot of pee in the water, since it gave off no strong smell of chloramines.
Frowns and confused half-laughs, a few whispers, and they'd left him standing there, his nervous, practiced smile frozen on his face. "He's such a fucking weirdo," one of the taller boys muttered to the others, and why, why did it always end like this, no matter what he did?
He'd wanted to reassure them because he'd overheard one of the girls worrying about all the toddlers and little kids. But the group walked away from him, exchanging sneers and glancing back, like he was some specimen at a zoo that'd performed a strange trick.
Then, the water, wonderfully cool against his overheated skin. The heavy almost-silence of sinking under the surface, pressing on his eardrums. He'd never been an athletic kid, but he did like swimming. Even the hot, humiliated lump in his throat softened as he flung his lanky limbs through the water until his shoulders burned…
A cry pierced the air. Grace felt his body jerk. That— that was Rocky's voice, not the kids with their gap-toothed grins and colorful floaties…
Rocky squealed again. A few of the adults looked up, squinting against the sunlight in confusion. One pudgy middle-aged woman shaded her eyes with her hand. Was there a siren droning on somewhere? Some sort of alarm? Rocky shrieked, high and distressed, and—
"Ryland," someone was saying, urgently, the sound thrumming so deep inside that it seemed to sit in his spinal fluid. "Ryland!"
He jolted upright and was moving before his eyes opened. Cool air buffeted his face. Wet sand sprayed under his running feet.
He couldn't think. For a moment he could barely see, just a confused blur of brightness and color. The echo of a droning alarm faded. Nothing was more important than flinging his half-awake limbs towards that scream.
Rocky was lying in the sand, legs twitching and helpless. A keening cry pierced Grace's eardrums. The kids were clambering on top of him, crowing and squealing, the clack of their small limbs against his muffled by their suits.
Adrian boomed something, not all that loud but substantial, bass notes so resonant Grace's teeth vibrated in his skull. The pebbles scattered. One kid— Gwen— who'd come running, about to join the pile, skidded to a stop.
And then Rocky was rolling over, climbing back to his feet, fluting Grace's name in confusion—
There was no give to an Eridian's carapace, no softness. The suit didn't cushion the stone much. Grace collided with Rocky hard enough to hurt his chest. He skidded across the sand on his knees. One of his ankles twisted under his haphazardly thrown weight, his sneaker coming loose.
The momentum dislodged his glasses. They tumbled across Rocky's shell and landed in the sand behind him.
Grace clawed at Rocky, his nails catching on thin, transparent xenonite. He couldn't breathe. His lungs were bags of wet cement, seizing behind his ribs. Cold sweat coated his skin under his clothes.
His heart was going like a jackhammer. Grace folded himself over Rocky as much as he could, trying to cover him. He'd lost feeling in his hands, but pressed them frantically to the cracks and little gaps in his shell where the vents opened.
The children were calling out, confused voices mingling. The words floated past Grace's awareness. He heard the gentle tones of parents herding them away.
He tried, really tried to breathe. To get a fucking hold of himself, pick up his glasses, and back away with an awkward laugh. He didn't want to scare the kids. But panic clawed at him. It wiped everything away like a dry-erase board, until all that was left was raw, uncomprehending terror.
Rocky was leaning into him— touching him, small presses of his claws against Grace's jacket. Grace heard his voice but not the words, just caught the question-tone over and over, with an increasingly frightened warble.
His tight ribs allowed him a few sips of air. The roar in his ears eased a little. He coughed the tiny breaths back out, his chest convulsing. "Wh… I…" he tried, wheezing some more.
Adrian was towering behind him, claws outstretched but not touching. They said something to the others and got a note of assent from one of the parents, with a quivering chord of worry.
Many sand-scraping footsteps. Confused hoots growing quieter. The lower, reassuring tone of adult voices.
And the wind, buffeting them. Whistling faintly in Grace's ears, and spurring on the waves, which kept up their endless splash-trickle-rush of sound.
He patted his numb hands over Rocky's suit, his sweat-slick fingers sliding. "R-Ro— hhah—" he managed, choked.
And Rocky was babbling, fast and anxious, "Grace Grace Grace," a constant stream of his name from his gas bladders. His claws were tapping against Grace's ribs, like he could fix Grace's starved lungs just with a nudge.
"Breathe," Adrian ordered. They crowded close, a bulwark of radiating warmth. "Both of you."
Grace pressed his forehead to Rocky's suit. Felt the movable pieces of his shell shifting underneath, and sucked in tiny, hurt breaths that did nothing to clear the encroaching black dots from his vision.
He realized he was trying to cover Rocky's vents. He was… he'd flung himself on top of him, curling his body protectively over Rocky's. He…
The staccato sound of that alarm seemed to careen closer again, echoing in his ears. But there was nothing here that could've made that noise. This was his biodome. Just his biodome, where a moment ago the kids had been playing in the water, and he'd been napping peacefully…
—And Adrian's warmth was no longer behind him. Their footsteps crunched across gravel, moving quickly farther away.
A broken sob tore itself from Grace's throat. His shoulders hunched up around his ears. He shuddered hard enough to bang his knee against Rocky's leg. Rocky was still talking. But the sound drifted ineffectively past Grace's ears.
His lungs locked up again. Rocky's chords fractured. He poked Grace in the side, then squirmed, trying to dislodge him. Grace clung without quite knowing why, his nails aching, dizzy and sick—
A gush of cold water poured over his face. It soaked his bangs, dripped off his ears, and dampened the collar of his shirt.
Grace choked, shrinking back. He squeezed his eyes shut on instinct, but a little water got into his mouth, it wasn't salty. It tasted faintly of minerals and nothing else, just like the water from the tap in his house.
He coughed. He wiped one arm across his face and blinked his eyes open. The cold shocked his system, got some rusted cogs in his brain moving again.
"Better, question?" Adrian asked softly. They were holding the water bottle he'd hidden behind the rocks earlier.
Grace sucked in big gulps of air. Blood pumped in his ears. He panted like he'd just run a mile, filling his lungs with fresh, salty air. "Yeah. S-so-sorry…"
"Grace, Grace," Rocky said, distraught. His suit was wet too. "Grace breathe now, breathe, breathe…"
Grace sat down hard in the sand. He finally peeled his fingers off his friend. Two of his already short nails had chipped from the force of his grip.
Fu— fudge, his chest hurt. His ankle did, too, hot and throbbing where he'd twisted it. He shifted his weight off it, and his sneaker came loose the rest of the way, leaving his sock to soak up sea water in the damp sand.
Rocky crowded close, climbing over and onto his weakly sprawled legs. He made chirpy soothing sounds. The top of his shell clattered nervously as he vented excess heat. Adrian loomed over both of them, a welcome, solid wall between Grace and the rest of the beach.
His head felt empty, scrubbed raw. He blinked slowly, his vision unblurring enough to show him the waves and the distant edges of the biodome. "The kids," he rasped.
"Parents took them to see tree," Adrian said.
The stone and metal tree that a few enthusiastic Eridian artisans had built for him by the house. Right. Grace dug his fingers into his trousers, wincing when his damaged nails protested. The small stings of pain grounded him. He sucked in air, his lungs burning.
Rocky's suit pressed damply against Grace's shirt. There was a solid, stinging pulse of pain across his chest where he'd thrown himself at his friend.
"Grace okay, question?" Rocky sounded almost scared to speak. His voice was small. "What wrong? What happened?"
Grace looked at him, the familiar rough hills and valleys of his shell, the blue that tipped several of his shoulder joints, more green-gray in the biodome's light. His vision shuddered in time with his slowly calming heartbeat. "I…"
He suddenly felt like crying. It was hot in his eyes and nose, a watery, building pressure in his skull. "I don't…"
He squeezed his eyes shut. Tried to recollect how it had all happened. How long had it been since the pebbles had been herded away? "I was… asleep. And then there was… screaming."
Rocky cooed. He was making clicking sounds and even had his claw on Grace's chest again, like simple echolocation was not enough and he needed to feel that his lungs were doing their job now.
"Was just game. The younglings caught me." Neither Rocky nor Adrian had eyes, but Grace still got the feeling that they exchanged a look over his tense shoulders. "Was race. No danger."
"Right." Grace exhaled, tried to sigh, but his ribs stung and nope, he wasn't done panting for air yet. "I…"
He couldn't explain it. One moment he'd been asleep, the smell of sunscreen and chlorine in his nose, and then he'd been on top of Rocky, his glasses flung off. Had he shouted when he'd woken up? He didn't know. All he remembered were spikes of raw terror, driving deep into his heart every time Rocky's carapace had shifted under him…
Oh. Oh. Grace put his hands over his face. Adrian shifted closer. They made a noise almost entirely outside Grace's hearing range: a deep rumble that somehow loosened the tight clench of the tiny muscles between his ribs.
He breathed. In and out. In and out. His throat was thick, his nose stinging. "I thought there was o-oxygen going into your vents, Rock." The words wobbled. "I thought…"
The cringing terror of plastering himself across as much of Rocky's body as he could. A shout for help, stuck in his airless lungs. It made no sense. But he'd been sure that— that flames would lick out of Rocky's body any second. That his ears would ring with high, pained shrieks as Rocky's sensitive insides caught fire.
"Grace," Rocky said softly. He didn't ask why Grace's brain was being more stupid than usual, which told Grace how worried he was. "Rocky have suit. No oxygen in here. Is safe. I am unhurt."
Grace nodded without taking his hands away. "Yeah. I know, bud."
Why was he even hiding? Rocky and Adrian had seen him cry before. He went limp between them, slumping forward against Rocky. Who stretched up with a wordless murmur, pressing himself to the suit so Grace could feel his warmth.
Grace sniffed, then breathed through his mouth when the snot wouldn't stop. Adrian was touching him, three claws splayed on his back. The waves and the sky were blurry, the light feathering into streaks to his wet eyes. He used his sleeve to wipe drops of water off Rocky's suit.
Adrian was producing a sound that Grace couldn't hear, but they were physically vibrating. So was he, really. It felt like his squishy insides were rippling gently, like rings of water disturbed by a thrown stone.
He wiped his cheek against his shoulder. He tried and failed to put words to the chaotic tumble in his head. "I don't… I can't…"
"Rocky got hurt on Hail Mary, statement," Adrian said suddenly. Their feet shifted, gravel crunching. "Breathed not-ammonia. Fire. Hurt. Bad bad bad."
It slotted into place. Grace's eyes widened. "Yeah. That's… yeah."
Why hadn't he put that together himself? He looked at Rocky, at the soft flutter of his vents through the suit. "When— the kids… you sounded like…"
Rocky ducked in surprise. His claws clicked as he listened closely. "Grace… heard me, question?" His voice was hesitant, higher than normal. "Thought you were unconscious."
Grace licked his lips, trying to pull moisture into his suddenly dry mouth. "I was, but not…"
Even without his glasses, the never-ending movement of the waves was distracting. He shut his eyes. What did he remember?
The solid smack of the control panel against his face, for one thing. The bruising, suffocating pressure of the chair, crushing his ribs. The scream of pain in every tendon of his arm as he'd strained against the G forces pinning him down, trying to reach the switches to activate the centrifuge…
Then: flickering lights. The stench of something burning. A needle stinging his neck, and cool, plastic-tasting air flooding his clenching lungs as Armando pressed a mask over his face.
And Rocky's voice. Vibrating in his skull, pressing against his eardrums. Screaming. Wailing like Grace had never heard before, first in distress and then pain, as black smoke burst from his vents and his claws seared a bright streak of agony into Grace's arm…
Grace shuddered. He didn't think he'd ever forget the slow, plummeting horror of following Rocky's trail of soot through the Hail Mary. The hot throb in his head and arm had paled in comparison. More and more he'd found, little heaps and meandering arcs like Rocky had been stumbling, careening into the walls, out of his mind with pain…
"I heard you," he rasped. A tear dripped off his chin.
Rocky made a noise, not a word. He squeezed even closer, chittering in muffled distress. Warmth rolled off him through the suit. He leaned more against Grace's arm than his front, wary of the rising bruise.
"… Not know," Rocky muttered. He spoke so quietly that Grace almost didn't catch the words. One set of claws was resting against Grace's flank again, checking his breathing. His midtones were thin, consternated. "Hmm. Bad."
Grace sniffled, but managed a small smile. It was just like Rocky to be more upset that Grace had heard him scream than about the trifling matter of almost dying.
Distant high-pitched voices floated over to them. They barely made it through the sound of the surf. The waves trickled and crashed and pulled wet sand with them, only to toss it back up onto the shore. An endless cycle, carefully fine-tuned specifically for him, by a whole barrage of Eridian scientists.
It'd made Grace's head spin how many there were. They'd dropped by his temporary habitat every day to ask him questions and listen to recordings of Earth beaches. He'd tried his malnourished best to memorize all of their names.
And every single one had been dedicated to making this new home for him. Taking copious notes, consulting with Rocky, and waving away his protests whenever he'd tried to tell them that they didn't need to work so hard, he'd be fine with just Earth gravity and air to breathe…
"The kids," Grace said again, a little while later. His eyes were gritty and sore, but mostly dry.
The inside of his skull felt scraped raw and hollow. His episode had taken an ice cream scoop to his brain. But he could think again, slow, dazed thoughts that unspooled themselves like old film reel.
"Safe," Adrian said immediately. They'd shifted to shield Grace from most of the wind, letting only a small breeze past their big shell. "Safe and calm. Don't worry. Adrian said humans need hugs."
Grace snorted. It came out more wet than he'd intended. Rocky gave a little grunt of disgust, though he didn't move away. "But I…"
"Parents distracted them." Adrian's feet didn't shift, and the set of their big shoulders was steady: they were calm, utterly sure of what they were saying. "And parents only concerned. Not angry."
Grace let out a shaky sigh. Embarrassment prickled under his skin. He was a teacher. An authority figure. He was supposed to be a calm, reliable adult, and he'd freaked out in front of the kids…
"Stop worrying," Rocky said. He stretched, rising to his full height. A faint, trilling click came from deep within his shell.
Without his glasses he couldn't focus properly on the beach anyway, so Grace just shut his eyes. "Yeah," he said. "Okay."
He put his head down on Rocky's shoulder, following the unspoken invitation. And let himself feel Adrian's warmth, the air moving through his hair, the sticky sweat drying down his back.
If he listened closely, he could hear the faint hiss of air passing through Rocky's vents. Just ammonia, not deadly oxygen. There was no alarm blaring anywhere, no red light flickering. Rocky was safe.