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Ryland was lucky that the Mary had a plentiful library. They were on their way back to Erid, and there wasn’t much to do besides read and watch movies and have conversations. They even had a few jigsaw puzzles that had been packed to help them pass time (though Rocky couldn’t employ much interest in them).
And so, Ryland sat on the floor of the Mary, a quilt lazily tugged around his shoulders, a book propped open in his lap, and his back pressed up against Rocky’s ball. There was a sharp twinge of pain behind his right eye that had been coming and going for the past few hours. It was impairing his focus on his reading. But, he didn’t want to shift the book out of his lap and flop down on the floor like he longed to do for fear of waking Rocky.
Besides- only god knew that Rocky had likely had enough of Ryland’s noise recently. He was constantly subject to each tired stumble, or each clatter as Ryland fumbled his grip on something. And, Ryland knew there was a plethora of noise he produced that there was no way he’d be able to help, even if he tried- every stutter of his thumping heart, each weird little wet noise from his stomach, each breath. The least that Ryland could do was to try to not bother Rocky when he was finding peace in unconsciousness for a few moments.
“Good morning,” came Rocky’s voice, singing its usual, smooth melodies.
Ryland jumped. Rocky was peaceful in sleep, staying completely still and silent, but was less peaceful in his awakening. Ryland usually heard him clambering around in his ball, and stretching like a cat before Rocky could issue his usual morning greetings. “Good morning,” Ryland returned.
“Grace is okay? Question.”
“Uhh… yeah?”
There was probably something that Rocky was hearing that was giving off the fact that Grace was in some sort of pain. And, while not the worse he’d felt- the pain behind his eye had indeed become impossible to ignore. Though, there was no need to worry Rocky with it. Instead, Ryland shuffled away from Rocky’s ball to give Rocky less access to his internal noise.
“M’fine,” Ryland insisted offering Rocky a smile.
“Okay,” said Rocky. He didn’t push for information. Though- he didn’t usually push for information in a situation where Ryland obviously didn’t want to say something aloud. There was very little space to hide on the Mary- and Rocky knew everything worthwhile about Ryland anyway. Something of importance would eventually come up. And this just wasn’t that important, “When Grace next sleep? Question.”
“In a few hours,” said Ryland.
Rocky didn’t respond right away, instead rolling closer to Grace. “Morning hug? Question.”
“You’re sure full of questions this morning,” Ryland said.
“Grace answer is what? Question.”
“Yeah, yeah. Of course,” said Ryland, as a ‘morning’ hug had become part of their routine as of late- though it never really took place in the morning, just whenever Ryland or Rocky woke up from their sleep. Rocky rolled even closer to Ryland. Ryland put an arm around Rocky’s ball, and gave him a little squeeze from the side. He tried to stay mostly away from Rocky’s little ball, especially when Rocky would be able to tell that Ryland wasn’t feeling well. The headache would pass on its own, eventually.
“🎵🎶🎶🎵,” Rocky hummed once Ryland had pulled away. His tone was sort of strange, sort of generally melancholic in a way that Ryland couldn’t quite put his finger on. He didn’t know the word, but he didn’t go to the trouble of asking for it either.
“Is Grace okay? Question.”
The question was a valid one- to be fair to Rocky. Ryland laid on the floor, wrapped up tight in his quilt. He’d propped his feet up above his head, against the wall in front of him, and his book was long forgotten on the floor next to him as he screwed his eyes shut, an arm thrown over his eyes. Now, his head hurt, and he kicked himself for not getting some pain medicine from Armando a little earlier. He’d been functioning on the principle- what Rocky didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. And, if he knew about Ryland’s building headache, he’d surely take it upon himself as a problem to solve- or at least to worry about. Besides, Ryland had never gotten away with asking Armando for medicine in front of Rocky. He’d always ask questions like: “Grace is in pain?” or “Grace tell Rocky what is wrong?” And, that wasn’t to mention that Armando would always out Ryland by replying with something like: “Administering acetaminophen for muscle cramping in lower legs. Immediate water intake recommended.”
Yeah. Rocky didn’t need to know about this problem. He couldn’t fix it anyway, though he would try. Which was nice. But, Rocky didn’t deserve to have to take care of Ryland. God only knew that he was going to have to spend ample time making sure that Ryland didn’t die in Erid’s atmosphere, anyway. The least that Ryland could do was to be a peaceful- quiet roommate.
“Yup,” Ryland responded, “Rocky is okay?”
“Rocky is 🎵🎵🎶.”
“Uhh. New word?” Wow, that really didn’t happen often anymore.
Rocky gave a melodic tut, “Tired because of nothing to do.”
“Bored,” said Ryland. Well. Wasn’t that just the way? They’d been here for two years, and still had close to two left to go.
“Yes. Bored. Is quiet. Grace want talk? Question.”
Grace didn’t want talk. At least, not when his head hurt so bad. Regardless, “Sure. What Rocky want talk about?”
“Can Rocky ask Grace question? Question.”
Were he feeling slightly better, Ryland might have laughed at Rocky’s phrasing, “Go ahead.”
“Grace says ‘Grace is okay’. But Rocky can tell, Grace not okay.”
Damn this Eridian. Ryland, with a sigh of defeat, admitted, “That wasn’t a question. But, my head hurts a little bit.” There was a chance that Rocky wouldn’t leave Ryland alone until he knew what was wrong. He might as well give in- this wasn’t really worth debating about.
Rocky made a sort of melodic grumble, “Why not ask for pain fix from Mary? Question.”
“Armando? Acetaminophen, please?”
“Administering acetaminophen for migraine. Water and calorie intake are recommended.”
Migraine? Ryland wasn’t sure he’d had one of those before. The familiar whirring of Armando’s mechanical arms sounded as they swung down to provide Ryland with a small envelope that he already knew contained two small, white pills, and a cup of water. Ryland tore open the envelope, and swallowed the pills as quickly as he could (Stratt hadn’t taken the care to provide them with pain medicine with a sugar coating- duck her anyway).
“When last time Grace ate? Question.”
Ryland heaved another sigh, cuddling further into his quilt on the floor. “Not sure. Don’t worry too much, Rock. I take care of myself just fine.”
Rocky gave a strangely sweet-sounding, harmonious scoff.
The next time that Ryland woke (though he hadn’t remembered falling asleep), he briefly thought that he was dying. The pain in his head seared- white, and hot and unmistakable behind his right eye. He clapped a hand over his face, which quickly proved to be a mistake. The pain set in more firmly at the contact of his hand, enough to send his stomach roiling, and to push a little sob out of him.
“Is Grace okay?! Question!” Rocky sounded frantic. The noise was not exactly welcome, though. The pain in Ryland’s head was far too severe to respond. He tried to shake his head, but that just sent the world spinning in front of him. He sobbed again, “Grace!!”
Ryland, an uncomfortable heat building in his abdomen, curled onto his side. His stomach flipped, and he vomited. Unfortunately for him, vomiting made the pain so much worse- which Ryland wouldn’t have thought possible, moments earlier. The Mary’s lights seared through his eyelids, and the nausea persisted, like a warm cloud hanging thick over his body.
“Grace! Grace!” Rocky hollered, rolling around in his ball anxiously.
“Rocky,” Ryland croaked, “Please, be quiet.”
Ryland passed out.
When Ryland came to once more, there was a cool weight over his eyes. It did seem to be providing some relief. Just… not enough. Not yet, anyway. The hurt in his head endured strong, and another sob involuntarily wracked through his chest, forcing his way up his throat, “Grace!” Rocky exclaimed, albeit more quietly than earlier, “Turn to side if need to purge!”
Ryland’s stomach felt hot, and he rolled to his side to throw up again. This time, it was just watery bile. Duck. Ryland hoped to god he never had another migraine.
The cool weight over his eyes had flopped off when he’d rolled. “Armando! Return cloth to Grace face!”
Armando did so. The pain behind Ryland’s eyes surged. He blacked out again.
After a few more waking patterns of waking up with searing pain, vomiting or dry heaving, then passing out again, Ryland finally awoke with his pain lessening. He blinked his left eye open- still choosing to shield his right (which was still finding the lights of the Mary to be too bright).
“Rocky?” he asked, though he couldn’t see him. He assumed that he was probably still nearby.
“Grace! Grace is awa-” Rocky cut himself off, freezing where he’d been excitedly rolling over. He shifted his voice to a low whisper, “Sorry. Rocky always always loud.”
“Don’t be,” Ryland croaked, his voice hoarse. His throat burned, and he searched for more words, settling on, “I’m really sorry. For… all that.”
“No apologies,” Rocky demanded, “Grace is better? Question. Pain lessening? Question, question.”
“Yeah. My head’s starting to hurt less. And, the nausea is getting better.”
“Need word.”
“Oh… uhh… ‘nausea’. The feeling in my stomach that made me…” Ryland thought back to Rocky’s own wording, earlier, so he didn’t have to give Rocky more than one new word (and have to talk more than he needed to), “Purge.”
“Nausea. Meaning… feeling to purge stomach contents,” Rocky said sullenly, “Grace need more sleep.”
It wasn’t a question. Rocky would have said ‘question’ otherwise.
Ryland let himself drift back to sleep.
Sometime, after what felt like several hours later, Ryland opened his eyes again. This time, the pain was gone, and the nausea had completely subsided- though he didn’t feel hungry, in the least. His throat was raw from vomiting, but he thanked his lucky stars that he felt so much better.
With a pang of guilt, he realized that he’d now have to explain all this to Rocky, after probably freaking him out so badly. Ruefully, Ryland wished that he’d just taken pain medicine earlier. God- he could have dealt with one question from his worried best friend about it. He glanced over to Rocky, finding him- shockingly- to be asleep in his ball next to him.
Ryland pushed a sigh out of his nose, and, in a whisper, requested, “Armando- bring me water.”
Armando did just that, offering Ryland a pouch of water. Ryland pushed himself up from where he’d been laying on the floor. His quilt, in the throes of his migraine, had been completely soiled. That was a massive bummer, especially after he’d been so careful as to not dirty it the whole time he’d been aboard the Hail Mary. He refused to sacrifice it to the laundry, though (he’d never seen the stuff he’d handed over to Armando for ‘laundry’ a second time). He’d just have to scrub the barf out of it later and put it in the freezer to kill the germs (and pray that the smell went away).
The cool-ish water felt nice, rushing down his throat..
He wondered how long he’d been asleep for, especially if it was long enough for Rocky to fall asleep without Grace watching him. Ryland scooched closer to Rocky’s ball, propping himself up against the outside of it. He let his eyes drift closed, and sipped on his water until Rocky started to shift next to him. He stretched like a cat.
“Good morning,” Ryland said quietly. Once they got their formalities over with, Rocky would probably be thankful to have some peace and quiet out of Ryland.
“Grace!” Rocky exclaimed immediately, “Head is better? Question.”
“Head is better. Statement.”
“How is nausea? Question.”
“Better. Uhh… it’s gone. Sorry for-”
“No. No, no, no. No apologies.”
Ryland thought for a moment, “I must have freaked you out.”
“Yes, Rocky was afraid. Rocky knew Grace lied about being ‘okay’ from beginning.”
“Oh. Uhh…” Ryland wanted to say ‘sorry’ again. But he didn’t- Rocky had told him not to, after all. So he said nothing.
“Why Grace not tell Rocky is not feeling good? Question. Why not ask for medicine from Mary sooner? Question.”
“I just didn’t want to trouble you. Didn’t want you to worry,” Ryland pursed his lips, feeling a flush creep over his face. This was all so silly. He hadn’t expected a headache to turn into that.
“‘Trouble’,” Rocky repeated, “Grace is never trouble to Rocky. Grace know this.”
Well, that was just something people said, wasn’t it? “Well, you just have to put up with me so much recently. And, I thought it’d go away on its own.”
“Grace put up with Rocky. Is fair for Rocky to put up with Grace. What is problem with Rocky caring for Grace? Question. Grace stupid for thinking Rocky not care for Grace. Grace say ‘nothing wrong’ when heart is pounding fast. Grace say ‘nothing wrong’ when Grace noise tell Rocky that Grace clearly in hurt. Rocky not know how help Grace. Grace stupid. Stupid Stupid.”
Ryland cringed, “I know. Sorry for the noise, I just-”
“No. No ‘sorry’. Rocky like noise, Grace know this. Rocky not know how help Grace when Grace is silent.”
“I mean- I’ve been trying to be quiet on purpose, so you can catch a break from all my noise. How the heck was I supposed to know what it would turn into that?” Ryland took a deep breath, “I know that I’m loud- probably louder than an Eridian. Maybe… if I went to my bed to sleep more often… you’d feel less vibrations?” He wondered aloud. He did like sleeping on the floor of the Mary, though. He and Rocky got to be closer that way.
Rocky was quiet for a long moment, “Grace want Rocky to get break from noise? Question. What mean? Question.”
“No- I mean, I just feel bad that you always have to hear me. It must be annoying for you.”
“‘Feel bad’.” Rocky repeated, “Dumb, dumb, dumb. What not understand? Question. Rocky loves noise from his Grace.”
‘His’ Grace. “I…” Ryland trailed off, “I’m sorry.”
“Noise is so important to Rocky,” Rocky gave a long string of dissatisfied hums and grumbles, “Grace is trying to be quiet? Question.”
“Well, keyword is ‘trying’.”
“Rocky perceive world through noise. Life with no noise is not worth living. When Grace is silent- not speaking- Rocky think that Grace is angry at Rocky.”
“I’m not angry!”
“Rocky know that now,” Rocky says flatly, “Grace not talk to Rocky. Grace get sick.”
Something like I didn’t want to bother you was on Ryland’s lips, but he didn’t say it. Rocky had made it pretty clear that he preferred being bothered with Ryland over silence. Instead, Ryland promised, “I’ll tell you next time, Rock. If there is a next time, I mean.”
“Good,” said Rocky, huffing, though still requesting, “Morning hug? Question.” Ryland reached out with his arm to pull Rocky into his side again, without thinking, “Stupid. Rocky want better hug.”
Ryland couldn’t help but laugh, and pulled Rocky in to give him a proper hug, pressing his whole body to Rocky’s little container. He felt a steady warmth when Rocky pressed up against him from the inside of his container.