Chapter Text
Ryland Grace had never been a man who often got sick. Being in the teaching industry for so long had built him a steadfast immune system over the years.
He got sick even less now that he lived on a sterilized spaceship, currently hurtling through interstellar space. And yet, somehow…
The screwdriver clattered to the ground, and Grace hurried to press his hands over his mouth as a wave of nausea descended through his body, causing his stomach to clench and spasm. From nearby, Rocky let out a surprised chirp and scuttled back.
Even before Grace’s stomach started rebelling against him and he got a low grade fever, Rocky always fussed on just how leaky Grace was. Which, when one could see—or, hear— directly through skin and flesh, Ryland couldn’t blame.
Grace desperately fought back the little contents of his stomach as it threatened to crawl up his throat. He barely won the battle.
“Fffine.” He gasped after a few seconds of pause, making sure bile wouldn’t come back up his throat the moment he opened his lips. His hands fell back to his sides and he tried not to dry heave. “I’m..I’m fine.”
Rocky let out a disgusted whirr, and only when the blood came back to Rylands face did the Eridian, hesitantly, return to his spot.
“Grace need to get better soon, statement.”
“Don’t I know it.” Grace responded flatly, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. It was disgusting, but Grace couldn’t get himself to care.
Rocky shivered. “Disgusssst..”
Grace rolled his eyes and picked up the screwdriver by feet, ignoring how his stomach cramped in protest the best he could.
He squinted and leaned forward as he tried—with trembling hands—to loosen the last screw from the panel that led into Armando’s guts.
“Y’know, the more I leak the sooner I’ll be better.” He said, wiping his forehead with the back of his free hand. “Humans typically leak to heal.”
“Human leak for anything.”
Despite how unwell he felt, Grace couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “That’s not wrong.” He sniffled. “We sweat to control our body temperature, which is raised by our immune system to try and overheat whatever bacteria or virus that compromised our body. Vomiting helps get anything toxic out of our stomach...” He briefly fell silent as he pressed the screwdriver down harder, eyebrows furrowing with concentration. “Whenever we get sick, we kind of just expel a whole bunch of nasty bodily fluids in an attempt to get better.”
“Very inefficient.” Rocky stated. “Armando would be better option, statement.”
Grace’s shoulders slumped a little. “Don’t have to tell me.” He muttered, pausing to glance down to where Armando’s main ‘head’ was slumped, hanging a few inches above the ground. All around it, its other appendages lay limp.
Grace shook his head, and turned his hazy focus back to the panel he worked at getting off. “I just don’t know what happened.” He started, before scrambling to try and catch the screw as it finally popped off the panel. He just barely missed it, and it bounced off his fingers before flinging halfway across the room.
“Rocky has it!” Rocky announced, careening past Grace's legs and towards the direction the screw had bounced. Without the xenonite ball, Rocky was able to move much more freely around Mary. But more than that, he could actually manipulate the things around him while outside of his atmosphere. It’d only been about two weeks since the suits initial debut, and after much stress testing, Rocky had been abusing that fact as often as he could.
“Thanks, buddy.” Grace said, mustering a smile before he turned to pull off the panel. With a bit more strength than he first thought he’d need, Grace peeled the metal sheet to the side, revealing the complex mishmash of wires and circuits that was the inside of Armando.
Grace blinked, while Rocky scrambled back over, a screw held above his head with one of his limbs. “Found it!” He declared, clearly still reveling in the newfound freedom of his suit.
“Yeah, yeah...” Grace said as he squinted at the cables before him, as if that would force them to make more sense. Absent-mindedly, he rubbed the spot just above his bellybutton. What started out as a dull uncomfortableness that radiated through his body had quickly become a stabbing-like pain over the course of the day. He couldn’t remember the last time food poisoning had hurt this badly.
Rocky paused, before setting the screw on the bed behind Ryland, then coming up behind him. “Cannot figure it out? Let Rocky see.”
Grace huffed, but didn’t put up a fight. Rocky was their engineer, after all. Grace could barely even qualify as their captain.
“Take a shot at it.” He said, taking a step back to allow Rocky closer.
“What mean, take a shot?” Rocky questioned as scuttled to be beneath Armando. He was a few feet too short to be eye level with the robots main box, but that didn’t seem to bother him. He simply tapped harshly on the floor a few times and let out a thoughtful hum. Not for the first time, Grace thought about his useful it must be to use echolocation to see.
Grace, going from rubbing, to cradling his bloated middle, leaned against the medical bed behind him. “Human saying. It means: Go ahead and try.”
Rocky gave another hum, inching closer to Armando. Grace only half watched as Rocky continued to tap tap tap on the floor.
The other half of his attention was on the pain in his gut. He moaned, and went from leaning on the bed to sitting on it. He held onto his rolling stomach, half folded in on himself, and tried not to be too loud.
Despite his best efforts, Rocky let out a huff of steam through his vents, and sang, “Grace quit make noise. Rocky trying to focus.”
“Sorry.” Grace groaned, in too much pain to be offended at Rocky’s tone. “Just— how did I even get food poisoning? Basically everything here is freeze dried or in tubes,” He rubbed his hands over his face and leaned back, immediately regretting it once his abdomen cramped again.
Midway through Graces sentence, Rocky’s incessant patting had stopped. In fact, his entire body went rigid.
Grace tilted his head. “Rock? Bud?”
“Poison?” Rocky asked. “Grace was poisoned, and not tell Rocky?!”
“Whoa,” Grace held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Not like, actual poison. Whenever humans eat something that’s rotten or bad, we get sick, and we only call it food poisoning. Most of the time, it’s not enough to actually kill us. Just some vomiting and diarrhea usually..” Grace trailed off as another shot of pain had him hunching again. “But this case is— especially bad.”
Rocky considered this, absentmindedly clicking his claws together. “So, Grace not actually poisoned, question?”
Despite his misery, Grace let out a chuckle. “No, bud.” He said. “Just the food I ate.”
“Mmm.. but food is all gone from stomach.”
“Well, just because it’s gone doesn’t mean the bacteria still didn’t get into my system. It still has to be flushed out. Which, again, is why me leaking is considered good thing. I’m getting all the stuff out.”
Rocky let out another hum, very clearly discontented with his answer. He adjusted the way he stood, and seemingly went back to focusing on Armando, but it was hard to tell considering he didn’t have eyes.
Grace let out a sigh. “Alright, what is it?”
“Rocky not say anything!”
“Yeah, but I can tell you’re thinking about something.” Grace braced one palm flat against the bed and forced his posture to straighten.
Rocky let out an indignant sound. “How Grace know?”
Grace shrugged. “Weird human thing. Sixth sense or whatever you wanna call it. Just tell me.”
”Grace wrong. Human have five senses.”
”You’re avoiding the question, Rocks.”
Rocky hesitated for just a moment longer, before holding up a claw in Graces general direction. “Is Grace sure it is not his other organ?”
Grace stared at him for a long moment. “What?” He asked blankly. “No, Rocky, I know where my food is digested? You do-”
“Not what Rocky meant!” The Eridan interrupted, waving around two limbs in a cartoonishly exaggerated fashion. “Rocky mean—urrgh.” Rocky groaned, before shambling over to where Grace sat, and motioning him down. “Here, lower. Cannot reach.”
Grace's face scrunched up even at the thought of moving, but for a creature with no eyes, Rocky can give a mighty compelling hard glare.
Slowly, Grace stood with shaky legs. He supported himself by grasping onto the edge of the bed like it owed him money, then he slowly lowered himself onto the floor. Rocky inched up next to him, and gently pressed on his lower abdomen on his right side.
Grace immediately let out a hiss at the slight pressure and jerked back.
Rocky reared up, the claw he used to press against held in the air. “Apology, apology!”.
Grace took in a shaky breath, and demanded his bunched up muscles to untighten. “It’s okay.” He breathed, voice quivering. The pain radiated outwards, leaving his whole body weak and trembling. Or maybe it was the fever causing that. Ryland couldn’t tell.
He took a moment to regather himself, panting and huffing. “I didn’t realize” He began slowly. “H-how sensitive it was there.” He lifted both hands, which he had just noticed were fiercely protecting his lower abdomen. Suddenly, Rocky pushed his hands out of the way and lifted his shirt. Grace flinched.
“Is definitely that organ.” Rocky said, one finger out to point to somewhere inside Ryland that he himself couldn’t see.
“What’re you..” Grace began, before stopping. Suddenly, alarm bells blared his head, and he desperately tried to not let them deafen the small bit of rational brain he had left. He took in a few quick, shallow breaths to calm himself.
“Rocky?” He asked.
“Yes?”
“What organ are you talking about?”
Rocky hummed, holding up an arm in a shrugging motion. “Do not know.”
“What does it look like?” Grace asked, a certain urgency in his tone that evidently put Rocky on edge.
“Ah.. uh, very very tiny.”
“And?” Grace pushed, wiping sweat from his forehead for what felt like the millionth time.
“It is attached to large, windy organ. One of the tubes food goes down.
“My large intestine?" Grace asked. “It’s attached to my large intestine? Rocky, what’s wrong with it? Can you tell?” He was really starting to panic now. If this was his appendix like he thought it was, without Armando in working order, and him lacking the proper medical training and— arguably the most important part—the courage needed to perform a self-appendectomy…Oh god, he was fucked
Rocky hesitated for a moment, which only made Grace feel worse.
“Rocky?”
“Double checking.” Rocky tapped against the ground once more, then pulled back the two hands from Grace's body, the comforting warmth leaving with them. “It is more big. More liquid flooding to it than normal.”
“Oh,” Grace said aloud, breathy. He slumped back and covered his face with his hands. Food poisoning, he could handle. Even without Armando. It would’ve been difficult, but it would’ve been manageable. Appendicitis on the other hand? A whole different ballpark. Hell, might as well be another game all together.
“Grace?” Rocky asked. “Grace, what is wrong, question?” He must’ve seen the panic on Grace's face, or heard how all the blood drained from it, because his song was quicker now.
Grace took off his glasses and scrubbed his face with his hands. “This isn’t food poisoning, buddy.” He said.
“What is then, question?”
Grace sighed, looking at Rocky through his bleary vision. “It’s my appendix.”
“Mmm.. new word.” Rocky said. “What mean?”
“It’s the organ you’re seeing.” Grace gestured vaguely to the area Rocky pointed. “The thing attached to my large intestine, that’s my appendix. It..urgh,” He sighed, and put on his glasses again, refocusing his energy into explaining what the appendix is, rather than panicking.
“Humans have an appendix to help with their gut health, and help fight off infections..or at least that’s what’s theorized.” He said, itching the back of his head nervously. “But it’s not vital, we don’t really need it to survive.”
At that, Rocky seems surprised, and vaguely disgusted. “So, organ stop working, and all is fine, question? Bad bad bad evolution! What point in have, then?”
“I dunno. I didn’t choose it, okay?” He snapped, shaking his head in exasperation. The pain and fever was making him increasingly more testy. The panic probably wasn’t helping, either.
Rocky let out a sudden gush of air through his vents. “Leaking so much make Grace grumpy grumpy grumpy. Let’s fix, quick.” He said, scuttling back to stand underneath Armando.
“Rocky, you’re not understanding.”
“Rocky understand fine!” The Eridan shot back, waving a claw dismissively. “Grace organ work wrong, Grace upset! Rocky would be too, if body was built so badly.”
Grace groaned and slumped backwards, really wishing he wasn’t already in so much pain so he could go punch something. Or slam his head into the wall.
“Rocky. Sometimes the appendix stops working, yes, but it’s not supposed to.”
“Didn’t Grace just say okay to stop work? Grace continue to live afterwards.”
“Yeah, but it has to come out.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, forcing his feverish mind into teacher mode.
“The appendix is not needed to live.”
“Yes—”
“Buuuut,” Grace quickly continued. “It's a bad bad bad thing if it’s inside me and still actively dying. That’s called appendicitis, and it’s, like I said, bad bad bad.”
Rocky pauses. “But Grace said—“
“Appendicitis happens when the appendix gets a bunch of bacteria in it, which causes it to be inflamed. If it’s not removed, it bursts inside of the body, opening up to all kinds of infections.”
Rocky shifted on his limbs, one claw held in the air, the fingers wiggling around nonsensically. “And.. Grace has this, question?”
“From what you’ve described? Yeah.” Grace huffs, wiping his upper lip again. He looked back down at his abdomen and put a hand on it. “You said it was right here? Small, about my pinky size?” He held up one pinky for scale. “Kind of noodly?”
“Rocky does not know last word, but yes.” Rocky confirmed, notes coming out smaller and higher now. “Very big than normal. A lot of fluid.”
Grace bit his lip. “Then we don’t have a lot of time.” He said, turning himself around to be on his knees. He used the edge of the bed to get himself up again, and he could hear Rocky shift behind him.
“What do we do, question?”
Grace doesn’t answer right away. He was too busy trying to breath through the pain shooting through his middle and blinking away tears. Eventually he was able to perch himself on the bed again, though he was left panting. In hindsight, he didn’t know how he thought this much pain was normal for simple food poisoning.
“I don’t..” He panted. “I don’t know, bud. Usually Armando would take care of this, but,” He gestured to the limp robot. “that’s not happening.”
Rocky was now rapidly shifting back and forth on his limbs. “And Grace will die if the organ is not removed, question?”
Grace swallows, and despite Rocky’s lack of eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to look at him. “Pretty likely, yeah.” Goddamn it. He had survived being shot into space, put into a coma, jumping off the ship, a head injury, and severe ammonia burns, just to die of appendicitis? Man. What a hero’s way to go.
Rocky hummed lowly. “Bad.” He stated. “Bad, bad bad.”
Grace nodded in agreement. “Bad bad bad.” He ran a hand along his thigh, up and down, up and down, as he thought.
It seemed like Armando was their only choice, or at least that's what his feverish brain was telling him. The scientist in him said to exhaust all other options.
“I’ll try to do some research, see if there’s anything we can do. Do you think you can fix Armando?”
“Yes yes. Rocky will fix.”
“That’s good..” Grace replied, hesitating for a moment. “I think I left the laptop in the lab.”
Rocky didn’t answer.
“Rock?”
“Yes?”
“Could.. you go get it for me?”
Rocky huffed. “Grace lazy lazy lazy.”
“Oh, come on. Grant a dying man his last wish.”
That seemed to startle Rocky enough to get him to focus. “Grace, do not say he die! Grace not die, statement!” He squawked, quickly scampering away.