Chapter Text
Grace felt off. He knew that was vague but that was the best way he could describe it.
The air felt just ever so slightly thicker. Breathing felt just a touch harder, his muscles a touch more sore. But it was ever so slight. Getting sick usually felt like more. This was just a slight annoyance- nothing more.
Maybe he was just aging? He was in a coma for 11.9 years, he was sure it had some consequences- maybe this was one of them.
He didn’t bring it up to Rocky. He didn’t see why it mattered. It really was nothing after all- he didn’t even have a headache.
He let the waves of the shore lap at his feet. Adrian had fixed the water temperature into something cool but not freezing, warm but not boiling.
It should have felt nice- and yet… it felt wrong. His bones itched with this sense of wrongness. It just- didn’t make sense. He didn’t want to make Adrian fix it anymore. Everyone had already worked so hard for him anyway. This was fine.
He didn’t want to acknowledge that maybe it wasn’t fine.
…
He started noticing little things. There was a small lump in the back of his throat that didn’t seem to go away no matter how much he swallowed. He tried to ignore it. He definitely ignored it when Rocky was around, because if he swallowed too much around Rocky he’d get interrogated.
He walked along the shore of the beach, letting the feeling of the waves lap at his bare feet. It was so nice to actually feel the waves- the mental health pod on the ship was nice but without actual sensations it didn’t always feel enough.
He thought about his crew. He wondered what they would’ve played in the mental health pod. Maybe the Kremlin? Maybe somewhere strange like the mall.
…
Rocky watched Grace from afar. Usually he ambled over to where Grace was and they’d chat. But something was wrong. Grace was acting weird. Was Grace sick? No. Grace would have told him. Grace would have turned red or white. Grace said human sickness often turned faces red or white. Rocky didn’t really know what that meant- but it didn’t seem like Grace was any redder or whiter than before.
But something was wrong.
Grace didn’t get his joke. Grace barely noticed his new accessory- a chain with the small fake Earth Grace had given him to remember their time together. Grace’s breathing sounded different. The waves his breathing made were choppier- more erratic. He didn’t like it.
…
“Grace?” Rocky intoned, finally making his way over to where Grace sat on the beach.
Grace slowly looked up, his eyes slightly leaky. Humans were weird.
“..Y-yeah pal,” Grace replied after a moment.
“Why Grace breathe sound wrong, question?” Rocky asked, tapping his xenonite bubble against Grace’s chest.
Grace frowned at him.
“W-wh-“ Grace started to cough, “what do you m-mean?” He asked, running a hand through his hair.
Rocky made a frustrated sound. “Rocky no like. Why Grace make bad sound?” He tried to explain. He didn’t like the weird rattling his chest made. It made him worry. Grace needed to be safe. He couldn’t fix things for his crew, but he could fix this.
“My cough?” Grace asked idly, “it’s when my throat feels itchy- my body is trying to expel whatever causes the itch and it makes a sound,”
Rocky hummed. He didn’t understand.
“Bad sound. Bad, bad, bad. No like c-o-u-g-h,” he intoned. He’d been learning new human words. Humans had a lot more words than Eridians needed- Rocky thought it was stupid but Grace looked so happy whenever he used a new word.
Grace chuckled. “Y-yeah Rocky, cough, you got it. And it’s not always bad, it keeps me from choking.”
Rocky hummed in disbelief. He still didn’t like this.
…
Grace couldn’t remember when it had gotten bad. But it felt like one moment he was fine and the next… he was decidedly not.
Breathing felt impossible- his lungs felt like they were on fire and his throat ached so much that swallowing hurt.
He wasn’t sure what had happened- but he must’ve gotten a cold. Oh well- he’d get over it in a few days.
He wished those few days would be over and he could be healthy again already. He hated being sick- even before Rocky.
Although being sick with Rocky seemed to be a lot more challenging.
“Grace sick, Question?” Rocky asked in alarm, after Grace had admitted he had a cold.
“Y-yeah, I have a cold buddy, it’s okay.” Grace explained, listlessly tying his shoe. He did not want to teach today. But he didn’t want to disappoint the Eridians- they were so excited to learn about human science.
“What is cold, question? Grace get better- no cold- cold bad,” Rocky said determinedly, tapping his legs harshly against the sand as if to make his point. He was tired of Grace sounding strange. He wanted Grace to be fine.
“A cold… uhhhh it’s a human sickness… but it’s common and easy to get rid of.”
…
Grace was not fine. He was not fine at all. He’d been explaining the states of matter- telling the students how a solid could become a liquid and then a gas, when he suddenly felt so hot. His chest hurt.
It was too warm. The light was too bright. Everything felt wrong, too far away. Distantly he felt himself falling into the sand, vaguely heard concerned screeches from his students, but his brain couldn’t keep up with it. It was all just too much.
When did he stop breathing?
…
Rocky was talking to Adrian when he heard it. The kids were screeching in alarm. Something was wrong. Where was Grace?
Rocky hummed searching for Grace, alarm flooding him when he found Grace was laying in the sand, not moving. Not good.
He scrambled to his suit- getting inside and scrambling across the sand in Grace’s home. He ran over to where Grace lay.
“Grace- Grace status update. Grace okay, question? Grace, answer!” He shrieked, his limbs tugging at Grace’s arms, rolling Grace onto his back so he could see Grace’s face.
Grace’s face was a strange almost blue color and his breathing- Rocky could barely hear it- it sounded weird and gurgling- it was all wrong.
“Grace,” he shrieked, begging Grace to answer him. The students looked on from their window into Grace’s home with terror- their shrieks joining Rocky’s as they attempted to wake him.
Rocky eventually decided Grace needed Armando. Armando had helped Grace when he was sick before. He could do it again. Rocky carefully moved his legs to move Grace with him. He dragged Grace across the sand- asking Grace to wake up every few moments just to see if Grace would respond. He didn’t. Rocky needed Armando now.
Rocky finally dragged Grace inside his physical house, shrieking at Armando. But Armando didn’t understand Rocky. Rocky needed Armando to see Grace.
When Armando finally noticed Grace, red lights started flashing.
“Erratic breathing, fluid build up in lungs” Armando said shortly, its white arms depositing Grace onto a sterile bed, equipment being attached to Grace’s arms and face and chest.
Rocky didn’t understand how Armando knew what to do. He hoped Armando would fix Grace fast. He didn’t like Grace not being okay.
But as the minutes ticked by, Armando was still working and Grace still hadn’t woken up. His strange rattling breath wasn’t making Rocky feel any better.
Rocky sat next to the bed.
“Watch Grace sleep. Grace wake up,” Rocky said with determination. Grace just needed someone to watch over him. He’d be okay. He had to be.
…
When Rocky awoke, he awoke to shrill alarms. He didn’t understand what was happening. Why was the sound so loud? What was happening to Grace?
“Heartbeat not registered, administering shock,” Armando’s voice came over the din.
Rocky froze. No heartbeat. He hummed and listened for the familiar sound. It was gone. Why was it gone? It needed to come back. Grace needed that to live.
Rocky watched as Grace’s body jumped, but Grace did not wake. But Rocky hummed again. A too fast beat thrummed- Grace’s heartbeat was back.
“Why Grace sick question?” Rocky asked Armando. Armando’s arms were busy checking the machinery strapped to Grace, and Armando didn’t reply. Right- he didn’t understand Rocky without an Earth machine voice.
Rocky scrambled through Grace’s house, searching for an Earth machine that would do what he needed. Eventually he found what he was looking for and repeated his question.
Armando looked up.
“Grace has a severe case of Pneumonia, the initial cause is unknown,”
“P-n-e-u-m-o-n-i-a,” Rocky sounded out, the hum odd compared to other words he’d learned. “What is, question?” Rocky asked.
Armando continued working on Grace as it spoke.
“Pneumonia is fluid in the lungs, caused by germs or by fungal infections,”
Rocky made a noise of confusion.
“Where Grace get germs question? From Rocky?” He asked worriedly. He hated to think that Grace could have gotten sick because of him.
“Origin of Pneumonia unknown,” Armando replied.
Rocket slumped against the side of Grace’s bed. He wished he could figure this out. He wanted Grace to be okay. He wanted Grace now.
The days stretched on.
Grace didn’t wake up. Rocky watched for many days. He was reminded of his crew. A low mournful sound escaped. Grace would not be like his crew. Rocky would fix this. He had to. He could not lose Grace.
Armando continued to work.
Rocky did not leave Grace’s bed. He promised he’d watch Grace sleep.
“Grace,” he called one evening. Silence as usual. “Rocky watch sleep, Grace wake up. Understand?”
No answer.
Rocky let his worried sounds carry through the room.
Grace had to wake up. He wouldn’t be like Rocky’s crew. He wouldn’t.
Rocky thought about his crew more often.
He remembered the days he’d spent watching them sleep, hoping they’d wake up. It’d taken a long time before he stopped watching. A long time before he realized they would not wake up.
He wished they were still around. He prayed Grace would not be like his crew and that he’d wake up.