Chapter Text
Rocky had been alone for a very long time.
Long enough for the cold to work its way beneath their carapace. Long enough that the silence surrounding them had started vibrating in their very core and they sometimes imagined hearing Erid sing once more.
The feeling lived in the empty chambers where their crew once had been. In the certainty that Rocky would never hear Adrian's song again.
Their crew was dead.
Their planet was dying.
And Rocky was alone in the dark, without an answer to bring home.
Then another ship appeared.
Different and weird and impossible. But there nonetheless.
Another vessel circling Tau Ceti. Another life-form searching for the same answer beneath the same dying light.
Rocky learned that the being aboard called himself Grace.
Later, once Rocky understood enough English to learn the other meaning of the word, they thought it was the most suitable name any creature had ever carried.
Grace had arrived when Rocky was very close to giving up.
Grace had found them.
Grace had answered.
The human was strange. Soft where an Eridian was hard, fragile where an Eridian was strong, filled with water and supported by an internal skeleton that Rocky still considered a questionable engineering decision. Grace communicated through noises, facial movements and an impossible number of gestures that Rocky had needed weeks to distinguish from meaningless motion.
Grace was also brilliant.
He learned quickly. He asked questions nobody else would think to ask. He became delighted by discoveries, talked to himself while working and forgot to rest whenever a new problem caught his attention. He was frightened by almost everything and still placed himself between Rocky and danger whenever it mattered.
Grace did not believe he was brave.
Rocky knew better.
Grace was beautiful too. Not in the human sense that depended so heavily upon light and color, but in every way Rocky understood beauty. In the complicated rhythm of his voice. In the vibrations of his laughter through the ship. In the cleverness of his hands and the warmth he left behind on every surface he touched. In the rhythm of his beating heart.
Grace was Rocky’s strange, wonderful human.
And the closer they got the more Rocky saw. The more Rocky recognized. The more subtle things revealed themselves to Rocky that made Rocky want to wrap this wonderful being up in a blanket and never let go.
At first, they had dismissed them as coincidence. The two species had evolved beneath different skies, in different atmospheres, from forms of life that possessed almost nothing in common. The possibility that humans had developed the same classifications as Eridians seemed absurd.
But perhaps it was not so impossible.
Life required variation to survive. Eridian Littles possessed minds made for learning, adapting and creating connections others overlooked. They asked new questions and carried knowledge in unexpected directions. Caregivers protected that vulnerable brilliance and gave Littles the safety in which it could flourish. Neutrals brought stability between them, maintaining the structures upon which both depended.
No classification existed alone. Each had shaped Eridian society into what it was.
Perhaps human society had needed the same things.
And the longer Rocky remained with Grace, the more difficult the signs became to dismiss.
The changes in his speech when he was overwhelmed. The way he sought small, enclosed spaces when frightened. The objects he held against his chest when his thoughts became too heavy. The moments when his enormous intelligence remained but the adult structures around it seemed to fall away.
Most telling was the way Grace fought it.
A little who had been properly cared for did not become frightened when someone noticed their needs.
They did not apologise for hunger.
They did not hide pain until their body failed.
They did not flinch from a raised voice, insist that comfort had to be earned or become terrified whenever their hands made a mistake.
It had made something bubble up deep inside Rocky. An anger, a furious little thing that wanted to use up all Astrophage to go to earth and rip them all a new one for how they had treated this precious little boy.
For his anger had never been directed at Grace.
Never.
It belonged to the people who had taught him those things.
At first Rocky wasn't sure if it was a cultural thing - but ever since he had gotten Grace's thinking machine he had realised that no - it wasn't.
Grace should have been protected, and loved and nourished. Instead he had been hurt and abused and discarded as if he was less worth than the other Littles, than the other humans.
So much so that he himself believed he was worth nothing. It made Rocky so angry, that they wished to turn back time and swoop Grace away before any hurt could befall him.
Little's where rare on Erid (and on Earth too). Rare and precious and one could be lucky to be able to bond with one as a caregiver. One could be additionally lucky if that one was Grace.
Rocky and Adrian had wanted a little for a long time. They were both caregivers, and neither could produce pebbles. They had offered themselves before, but caregiving bonds could not be manufactured or imposed. No little had chosen them, and then Astrophage had come. Their star had begun to dim. All other dreams had been placed aside.
Rocky had stopped believing that part of their life would ever exist.
Then Grace had entered it.
Rocky had not told him what they suspected. Grace already carried too much fear, and Rocky understood enough to know that being recognised would not feel like relief to him. It would feel like discovery. Exposure. Another person learning something that could be used against him.
So Rocky had waited.
They reminded Grace to eat without telling him why. They guarded his sleep. They gave him tasks when he needed to feel useful and distractions when the thoughts inside his head became too loud. When Grace slipped close to headspace, Rocky spoke more gently and pretended not to notice the embarrassed silence afterward.
Rocky would have waited as long as Grace needed.
Then they had been forced to let him go.
Every part of Rocky had protested as Grace’s ship turned toward Earth. They knew what it meant to release someone they loved because that person needed to return to their own world. Adrian had once done the same for Rocky.
Grace wanted Earth.
Grace had chosen Earth.
So Rocky respected that choice, even though something deep within them insisted that humanity did not deserve him. Not after the scars they had left upon his body and mind. Not after sending him into space with too little food and no expectation that he would ever return.
Rocky let him go anyway.
Then the Taumoeba escaped.
By the time Rocky discovered it, the fuel was already failing. Rescue was impossible. Erid was beyond their reach, and Grace was travelling farther away with every moment.
Rocky curled within the silence of the Blip-A and mourned.
They mourned their crew.
They mourned Adrian and the song they would never hear again.
They mourned Erid, freezing beneath a starving sun.
And they mourned the human who would never know what had happened to them.
Then Grace came back.
Having chosen Rocky in opposition to Earth.
He surrendered his journey home, crossed the darkness between them and placed himself in danger again - not because anyone ordered him to, not because an entire species demanded his sacrifice, but because Rocky needed him.
Grace chose Rocky.
Rocky would never again mistake letting go for the only way to love him.
They would not trap Grace. They would not take away his choices or decide his future without him. Humanity had already done too much of that.
But Rocky would make certain Grace understood that staying was a choice too.
Being protected was a choice.
Being loved was a choice.
And if Grace chose them, Rocky would never send him away again.
Grace was theirs.
Rocky was Grace’s.
Forever.
Four years until arrival on Erid
Grace sat in front of the bullseye window gazing at the stars passing by. He was wrapped in the quilted blanket he loved so much. The little fox plushy pressed close to his body.
It was one of the few things - Rocky had realized - Grace had been allowed to carry with him on the journey for his Little side.
Once again Rocky asked themselves why Earth had sent a Little out to such a mission. Not that they thought that a Little was less capable. By far. They knew what Littles were able to do. How their dynamic minds and creative innocence were able to find solutions no Caregiver or adult neutral could ever think of.
No - Rocky knew the strengths of Littles. But they also knew about their vulnerabilities. They also knew how fragile they were, especially if left alone.
And Grace had been left alone. With not enough food and not enough care.
No one had been there for him when he had found Rocky.
Rocky knew Grace wasn't supposed to be alone. That two others from his crew had been with him but had died on the way.
Two were not enough. By far not enough.
It had been twenty-two Eridians on Rocky's ship. For Eridians were social beings. They needed each other, because Erid was a planet of noise and song and vibrations. Silence was just as dangerous for their health as being exposed to the oxygen atmosphere of Grace.
And yet the facts remained. No matter how much Rocky tried to twist it around in their head. It didn't change what was right in front of them.
A Little that had been through so much and yet remained kind.
A Little that had been forced to go beyond of what any Little should do and remained passionate.
A Little, like Rocky had never seen before.
Grace was playing with a bottle in his hands. Uncapping and capping it again and again, while his eyes remained fixed on the stars shining like diamonds in the vast emptiness surrounding them.
Rocky didn't know what had been inside the bottle. Small little things Grace had taken every day since they knew each other.
But now it was empty.
Rocky worried.
Was it medicine? Did Grace need it for survival?
But every time Rocky asked about it, Grace switched the topic. Rocky did not understand. They hoped if it was something important that Grace would tell them. Had to trust that Grace would come forward if there was anything life-threatening to it. Like he did with the food situation.
Grace had told them about the food.
Eventually.
Rocky had of course known that it might become a problem, but they hadn't known the expanse of it. Not until Grace told them how much they had left and Rocky had asked the thinking-machine how much someone like Grace needed.
They had planned then. Rationed it. Packed away one of each food item variation that was left, so that Erid had something to recreate. Then they bred a whole knew taumobea breed for Grace to be able to digest.
It was not what Grace deserved. But it was sufficient enough to last the four years until their arrival at Erid.
Fact was - Rocky did not trust Grace's definition of everything was fine and don't worry.
"What Grace thinking about?" Rocky asked.
Grace flinched.
The bottle fell out of his hands, rolling a few inches away from him.
Rocky felt guilt crawl up their insides. Grace was hovering again. Like he so often did. The space between Little and adult.
Rocky could see it clearly now. The most obvious tell was the fox. It was small enough that Grace could hide it under the blanket, even though it was futile, because Rocky could 'see' it anyway. They pretended not to of course. Even though everything in their heart yearned to wrap this Little up and cuddle him close. Rocky wanted to squeeze all the pain out of him.
They refrained from doing so.
Patience.
A matter as delicate as this needed time and patience.
And Rocky was nothing if not patient.
They had waited forty years alone until Grace came, they can wait longer for Grace to trust them enough to admit about their Little side. Even if Rocky did not yet understand why they were hiding it in the first place.
"Nothing," Grace said slowly, as if testing the word before saying it. Rocky just wasn't sure what he was testing for. "Tired 's all."
Grace did not look at Rocky. Instead their gaze rested on the floor.
Another tell he was close to headspace.
Rocky softened their voice, like they so often did when Grace hovered between his two sides.
"Then Grace should sleep," they suggested gently. "Rocky keep watch."
Grace scowled. Then his lips formed into a pout. His head falling forward, forehead bonking against the glass of the bulls-eye.
"Guess you are right," Grace said tiredly.
"Rocky always right."
Grace snorted.
"Don't be so full of yourself."
"Rocky can only be full of themselves. Rocky is themselves. Grace words confusing. Should sleep."
"Yeah yeah," Grace sighed and finally moved his forehead away from the window.
He made to get up and Rocky quickly rolled forward in his little xenonite ball to help Grace.
They couldn't do much, but at least they could be there to help support their human in case they might fall.
Grace often fell.
He was clumsy like that. Clumsy and uncoordinated.
Rocky wondered if all humans were like that or if that was something solely Grace. They still couldn't fathom how humans walked on two-legs. It was so inefficient.
Grace clicked with his tongue as Rocky rolled up next to him.
"You worrywart."
"What?" Rocky asked. "What word?"
Grace swayed a little, as they finally got their feet underneath them, placing one hand steadily on the top of Rocky's ball.
He rubbed at his forehead, his glasses slipping a little sideways.
"It means that you worry a lot. And most of the worry is unnecessary," Grace explained.
Rocky spluttered.
"Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Rocky not worry unnecessary. Grace bad at taking care of himself. Rocky need to help."
Grace mock gasped as they slowly made their way to the sleeping chamber.
Grace was a lot thinner now. He swayed often when he stood up, stumbling more and sometimes forgetting what he did.
It was the starvation Grace had said.
It worried Rocky.
It wasn't unnecessary. It was needed.
"You are bossy," Grace muttered.
"Yes."
"At least you admit it."
"Rocky excellent at admitting correct things."
Grace laughed.
It vibrated in small waves through the room. Rocky melted a little.
They weren't sure if Grace knew just how good their laughter felt in Rocky's carapace. Like the chimes they sometimes wore on grand occasions.
Beautiful.
Grace went through his nighttime routine. Brushing teeth, a little sponge wash and changing into something more softer. The fabric swished softly whenever Grace moved.
Rocky liked it.
Apparently it was an old dress from one of the crew mates Grace had lost.
Rocky hovered around Grace, as he brushed his teeth. His eyes slowly drooping closed. The blanket still wrapped around his shoulders and the little fox sitting in the crook of his arms.
It was a sign of just how tired Grace was, that he carried it so closely. Usually he made a much bigger show of keeping it out of Rocky's 'sight'.
"Was s'pposed to check Taumobea again," Grace mumbled, a little bit of toothpaste dropping to the floor.
Rocky pressed a little closer with his ball against Grace's legs, stabilizing him.
"Rocky can check."
Grace hummed.
When he was done brushing he moved over to the cot. Rocky wished they could follow Grace on top. They wished they could curl on their chest, feel the song of their heart right against their shell and listen to all the loud noises Grace's body made up close.
Instead they made their way back into their tunnel, crawling to the top bunk to hover over their human from their observation spot.
Grace curled himself sideways into a small ball. The little fox tucked close. It was small and worn, its fabric thin from years of being held. One ear bent forward. A seam near its tail had been repaired by hand.
The quilted blanket came on top of Grace's sleeping bag.
Rocky watched Grace settle. They couldn't help the little high pitched coo escaping them. It was too high for Grace to hear. Rocky wondered if Grace knew how Eridian-like they looked when they were curled up like this.
Rocky waited until Grace’s breathing began to slow before speaking.
“Glasses.”
Grace made an unhappy sound.
“Grace will damage glasses while sleeping.”
“Won’t.”
"Grace mentioned previous glasses got damaged while sleeping."
"That was one time."
"One time is sufficient experimental evidence."
Grace grumbled, but removed them. He folded the arms carefully and placed them beside his head.
“Happy?”
“Yes.”
“Bossy space spider.”
“Sleepy strange human.”
Grace’s mouth twitched.
He closed his eyes.
Rocky remained beside him, listening as the rhythm of his heart gradually softened.
Grace had abandoned Earth for them.
Rocky still could not fully comprehend the magnitude of that choice.
Grace had known what returning meant. He had known that the Blip-A lacked enough food to sustain him. He had turned the Hail Mary around anyway, expecting to save Rocky, save Erid and then slowly starve in the space between stars.
He had done it while believing himself a coward.
Rocky wished they could reach through the sphere.
They wanted to place one hand over Grace’s heartbeat and another against his back. They wanted to tell him that nothing would ever make Rocky permit such a sacrifice. That Grace had already given enough. That he would reach Erid alive, and that once they arrived, Rocky would create anything he needed.
Food. Warmth. Light.
Safety.
A home.
Adrian would help.
Rocky had no doubt of that. Adrian would listen to Grace’s strange voice, learn the rhythm of his footsteps and love him. It was impossible not to.
For now, Rocky could only remain near enough for Grace to hear their movement through the wall.
Grace fought sleep for a long time.
Each time his breathing deepened, his body startled awake again. His fingers would tighten around the little fox, and he would look toward Rocky’s sphere as though checking that they had not disappeared.
Rocky remained.
Eventually, Grace slept.
Only then did Rocky turn their attention to the bottle.
Slowly they slipped off of their platform and climbed along the walls until they reached their ball.
They grabbed their human-writing-translator device and rolled towards the abandoned bottle.
The print was small. Rocky adjusted the reader twice before the translation program recognised it.
CLASSIFICATION SUPPRESSANT
Rocky stopped moving.
Beneath the name was a longer description.
Hormonal regulation medication intended to delay or reduce involuntary Little headspace.
Rocky read the sentence again.
Then again.
Then they rolled back and settled themselves on their platform once more watching Grace's chest rise and fall slowly in their sleep. Hearing their body vibrate and move and stay active despite the resting mind.
Fascinating.
This time Rocky had their human-thinking machine with them. Together with Grace they had adjusted it to their atmosphere so it could survive. It helped a great deal for Rocky to explore more about humanity and Grace whilst they were asleep or otherwise occupied.
They searched the meaning of the suppressants.
The first results were clinical. Suppressants acted upon the hormonal process that initiated regression. They could reduce the frequency and depth of headspace, allowing Littles to maintain adult cognitive structures for extended periods.
Rocky’s discomfort grew with every line.
There were legitimate medical uses. Some Littles experienced dangerous or debilitating shifts. Others chose suppressants for short periods when caregiving support was unavailable.
They were not intended to replace such support indefinitely.
Prolonged use could produce exhaustion, headaches, emotional instability, disrupted sleep and difficulty regulating once the medicine was withdrawn. Sudden discontinuation after sustained use could cause rebound regression.
Dosages needed to be monitored.
Adequate nutrition was required.
Rocky looked toward Grace.
He slept curled around the fox, his knees drawn against his chest. Even unconscious, his body remained tense.
Rocky returned to the bottle.
There was no medicine left.
According to the dispensing date, Grace had been given enough for the original mission.
Enough to keep him functional until he died.
Rocky’s claws pressed into the sphere’s floor.
Earth had known.
The humans who prepared the Hail Mary had known that Grace was a Little. They had known he required support. Instead of providing enough people to care for him - or enough food to keep him alive - they had given him medicine so he could suppress his needs until the mission ended.
Rocky's hind leg thumbed in agitation. They couldn't suppress it. Anger made their body vibrate. It surged so violently that for a short second they wanted to throw the human-thinking machine across the room. The leg-thumping was their futile attempt to keep the anger contained.
Grace stirred.
Rocky immediately forced themself still.
Grace made a small, distressed sound and curled more tightly around the fox.
“Rocky here,” Rocky said gently.
Grace’s breathing slowly settled.
Rocky remained beside him for the rest of the sleep period.
Like they always did.
Like they needed to do.
Rocky had watched their crew slowly succumb to sleep and never wake up. They needed to watch Grace. Needed to hear him. Needed to know he was alive and well.
The next morning Grace found the empty bottle of suppressants still lying were it had rolled the night before.
His heart rate climbed for a second and Rocky could feel his gaze flick towards them. It was weird in a way.
Rocky couldn't really see if Grace looked at them, but the tingling feeling of being observed remained.
Weird.
It send a chill down their carapace. They knew humans were the apex predators on their planet. Rocky couldn't fathom how something so squishy could be so dangerous, but feeling the gaze made them wonder.
Rocky pretended to be occupied by the human-thinking machine. Grace took the empty bottle and stowed it away not mentioning it.
Rocky wondered if Grace really believed they hadn't seen it, or the fox or any other hint at what Grace was, or if Grace was merely very good at avoiding thinking about it.
It was probably the latter.
Grace did not know that Eridians had the same classifications. Rocky had wanted to bring it up once. The first time they had not merely seen but observed signs of Grace being a Little. But Grace had deflected so well and his heart had started bumping heavily inside his fragile chest, that Rocky had let got. At first they had thought it was maybe a taboo to talk about, something very private like eating was for Eridians. But after getting access to the human-thinking machine Rocky had learned that this was not the case.
Grace just did not like talking about it.
Rocky had given him space, despite something inside of them swiveling a little at the fact that Grace might be a Little - something Rocky had yearned for for a very long time - and maybe just didn't want Rocky as their Caregiver. Or anyone.
There had been too many unknowns and too many other things to do in order to save Earth and Erid for Rocky to pursue this further.
Another reason that had prevented them from pursuing this was also the fact that Grace would go back to Earth one day. For an Eridian building such a bond was a once in a lifetime thing. An Eridian would not survive the loss of their bonded Little or mate, which was why Rocky - even if Grace had allowed the topic to breathe - wouldn't have been able to go all in. It had been saver to keep the distance. For the both of them.
But now?
Now they were both on their way back to Erid. They had both done their tasks.
And yet - Grace still avoided the topic like a plague.
And Rocky was left to wonder.
Why?
So Rocky searched and searched and searched everything they could on humanity when Grace went to sleep and soaked the information up like a sponge in their never-forgetting mind.
They stayed silent - even in their knowledge, even when the suppressant went empty - because if Rocky moved too early, if Grace didn't come to them first, the fragile bond they had might break before it even began building.
At least in the not-friendship regard.
And Rocky did not want to loose Grace.
Not again.
So Rocky said nothing.
They did, however, begin collecting data.
Grace would probably call it spying. Rocky considered that inaccurate. Spying implied secrecy for malicious purposes. Rocky was observing their human because Grace was stupid about his own health and could not be trusted to report relevant information.
The distinction was obvious.
During the first days, Grace slept more and complained of headaches. He dimmed the lights, removed his glasses and blamed everything on the restricted food.
After one week, his emotions began escaping before he could hide them. He pouted when Rocky sent him to rest. He laughed louder when Rocky teased him. Once, after dropping a tool for the third time, he became so frustrated that tears filled his eyes.
Grace turned away before they could fall.
Rocky pretended not to notice.
His speech changed too. Only slightly. Sentences shortened when he became tired. Words disappeared. Grace replaced them with gestures, frustrated noises or increasingly inaccurate descriptions.
“Give me grabby tool.”
“Which grabby tool?”
“The one with the blue handle.”
“Pliers.”
“I know what it’s called.”
“Then Grace should call it pliers.”
Grace had then made a move Rocky had never 'seen' before.
The tongue pressed itself out between tightly closed lips and vibrated in a weird blubbering noise that made spit fly in little droplets.
Rocky screeched.
"Disgust. Disgust. Disgust." Arms waving in agitation.
Grace laughed.
He giggled and laughed loudly. The musical cords humming like a soothing balm through the Hail Mary straight into Rocky's core. It made warmth rush through their carapace like the hot stones of their nesting area back on Erid.
Rocky wished it would never end.
"What was that, question?"
"A farting noise," Grace smiled. "Sometimes kids do it to express defiance, when they don't have arguments anymore. Sometimes its just fun to make."
Rocky hummed in acknowledgment and considered the exchange a victory.
The little fox appeared more often now. Still mostly hidden, but always close. Sometimes he pressed it against his chest while working and only seemed to realize what he was doing when Rocky rolled closer.
Grace would freeze then. His whole body tensing. The grip on the fox going tighter.
Rocky never acknowledged it. Just continued as if nothing happened. After a while Grace would relax again and continue more at ease until he found an opportunity to hide the fox away again.
Grace also remained closer to Rocky. He followed them around the ship, sometimes for no apparent reason. When Grace was consumed in his research and wouldn’t realize when Rocky left, he would sometimes burst in in a little panic. His eyes would fall on Rocky and then the whole tension would just fall from his frail body. Rocky could see it. The muscles coiling and uncoiling, the lungs letting out that CO2.
Rocky wondered how Grace could possibly believe it went unnoticed.
Strange human.
Brilliant human.
Terrible liar.
Rocky memorized every change.
They did their best to give Grace the stability he so desperately craved, made sure they went to sleep, made sure they ate, made sure they rested, while Grace insisted he was fine.
The banter remained familiar, but Rocky watched the strain beneath it grow. Watched Grace become silent, watch Grace flinch away from loud noises, watched Grace become unsure. Rocky was sure that beneath all of that sarcastic tough exterior was hiding something precious. Someone that enjoyed care, that loved it even. Someone who craved the security but would never allow themselves that luxury.
Grace fought the changed with everything he possessed.
Rocky watched him loose.
It hurt them. But they could do it if it meant saving him.
They could wait for Grace to speak. They could protect his secret and pretend not to recognize every sign.
But Rocky would not permit Grace to destroy himself merely to keep hiding.
Grace was Rocky’s human.
Grace had saved them and all of Erid multiple times.
No one was allowed to hurt Rocky’s human.
Not Earth.
Not the people who had taught him this toxic relationship to his Little side.
Not even Grace himself.
Rocky waited only until waiting was no longer safe.
It happened when the time between Grace's last sleep had reached around seventeen hours.
Rocky insisted Grace should sleep.
Grace insisted Rocky should mind his own business.
He was sitting in the lab chair checking over the Taumobea again. One would think that now that the main mission was done and the both of them just needed to travel home they would get bored.
This was not the case.
The Mary seemed to constantly come up with new things to keep them occupied, from a failing light bulb to a broken cable to other little to bigger things that needed all of their attention.
Rocky and Grace often remained in each others spaces, talking about each of their worlds - only sometimes did they both retreat to each do their own thing.
Grace often checked the Taumobea breeds during that time. Standing for hours upon time to seemingly just look at them.
At least for Rocky it looked like that. It was endearing watching Grace's fascination for these tiny little things, muttering here and there about things he could test.
It was not endearing however to see the slight tremor in Grace's hand, or the strain in his body. Rocky could perceive how his eyes fell shut in more rapid intervals.
Grace was a stubborn idiot sometimes.
"Grace need sleep," Rocky said once more.
Grace hummed, but otherwise did not react.
Instead his hand moved to the side trying to grab something. The movement was uncoordinated. As if his arms had suddenly stopped listening to his command, already in sleeping mode.
A flask stood dangerously close to the edge of the table and in the heat of the uncoordinated movement, got hit and crashed to the floor.
It smashed into a thousand tiny pieces.
Grace froze.
It was so unnatural that Rocky immediately started clicking their claws to figure out if Grace was okay and rolled back an inch at the sound of a violently accelerating heartbeat.
"Grace okay, question?" Rocky asked. "Grace heartbeat fast."
The fast rhythmic thumping did a small flip at Rocky's words. Grace suddenly dropped to his knees, not answering.
"Grace?!" Rocky asked alarmed.
"Y-yeah," Grace's croaked out. Rocky did not like this at all. "I'm good buddy."
"Grace liar," Rocky said a little angrily.
Grace never admitted when something was wrong. It was inefficient. It made it hard for Rocky to care for him. To make sure that he was protected as needed and well.
Couldn't Grace see how much he had already given to the world? Couldn't Grace see that he was allowed to be taken care of sometimes too?
Rocky rolled closer inside their xenonite sphere.
A big mistake as they realized too late.
Grace - who was still busy picking up the shards - flinched heavily. A full body twitch, that made him close his hand around a shard, slicing his palm open.
Grace hissed quietly. Rocky could hear something had changed in the way they saw Grace. They clicked their claws and tapped a little to get a better picture. A thick liquid swelled out of Grace's small hand. One droplet falling to the floor and coating the shards in its texture.
Grace suddenly held his hand differently.
"Grace hurt?!" Rocky asked frightened.
Grace didn't answer. He picked up the glass more quickly, mumbling something, that a normal human probably wouldn't be able to hear, but Rocky did.
"'m sorry. Sorry. I fix it."
Horror crashed through Rocky's body at that. Cold as ice, like Grace's atmosphere.
"Grace…" they whispered.
"I can fix it. Sorry. I am sorry. I didn't mean to. I promise."
His voice sounded young.
Young and fragile and high. So high.
Rocky couldn't help but get reminded about Erid. About the Pebbles they had sometimes seen on the local tunnel ways screaming and yelling and screeching in delight. Their voices high, not as developed yet. A frequency that hummed inside every adult Eridian like a soothing balm. Littles on Erid had a similar frequency when they were in their headspaces. It resonated with something deep inside every Eridian. Something ancient, something primal. It was why Littles and Pebbles were so protected in their society. Because every Eridian had it. The instinct to look after them.
Grace was emitting the same frequency in their higher pitched voice. Something that would have fascinated Rocky on a very scientific level - another species so far away, evolving with the same protection mechanism as them - if the situation wouldn't have been so serious.
Grace was in his headspace. He had finally slipped.
Fully as it seems.
And he was young. Younger than Rocky had thought.
And frightened.
Rocky rolled closer. Their instinct to protect overriding every thing else. They wanted to be as close to the frightened Pebble as possible, wrap him in their arms, keeping him safe from the world.
But when Rocky moved closer, the Pebble yelped loudly. He folded over himself, raising his arms to protect his head, as if -
Rocky let out a high pitched kneeing sound. The Pebble couldn't hear it. His hearing range was not high enough.
Someone had taught Grace to assume that pain followed mistakes.
Rocky was going to find that person.
Everything inside them screamed to move forward, wanted to break through the sphere, gather Grace against their carapace and destroy every human who had ever made him afraid.
Instead, Rocky rolled back far away enough that they could see the muscles loosen inside Grace's frail body.
He needed less of them right now, not more.
He needed Grace away from the dangerous glass surrounding them.
"Rocky stay here," they said. Trying to sound as calm as possible.
They hummed a little. The frequency vibrating through the ships hull. Back at home Eridian parents and caretakers often emitted a vibrating hum. It was supposed to calm the Pebble or Little in situations of stress or anxiety.
They hoped it might have a similar effect on their Grace.
"Grace take hands away from glass, please," they said then.
Grace let out a quiet sniff.
There was no loud wailing, no screaming - just silent tears rolling down Grace's soft face.
"Grace fine." Rocky added. "Grace doing good."
That rose a reaction out of the small one. A silent, wondrous tension of muscles. The arm lowering a little to let the top half of the face, where Rocky could see the light-detectors of Grace peak through.
Rocky continued their calming hum.
Another sniff could be heard. It tore at Rocky's inner core. The sound too close to the smallest Pebble in distress.
"Rocky is there now," Rocky cooed. "Grace no fear. It is alright."
"I broke it," Grace whimpered.
"Is okay," Rocky hummed calmly. "Is only glass. Grace health more important."
Grace scrunched up his nose. It looked funny and a little bit cute. It was fascinating how many muscles humans had alone in their face to be capable of such movement. The apex predators - so bad at keeping their emotions from their body language.
Grace sniffed again. Rubbing his sleeve over his nose.
"Wanted to clean it."
"Rocky knows. Grace did good. But Grace is hurt now. Lets focus on healing hurt, okay?"
Grace pushed himself up a little.
It took everything in Rocky to not move forward in a panic, as they could hear the glass shift beneath Grace's body.
"'m fine," Grace mumbled then. His gaze resting on his bleeding hand. "Is just a scratch."
Rocky hummed. This time in a frequency Grace could hear instead of the lower one that vibrated through ones core for calmness.
"Rocky does not think is just a scratch," they said. "Looks hurtful."
Grace shrugs again.
When nothing else came Rocky tried again.
"Lets have Armando look over hurt," they said. "Can Grace get up."
"Uh-huh," Grace nodded. Clumsily heaving himself up with the help of the chair and the table next to them.
"Rocky can help," they said. This time warning the Pebble, before moving closer.
Grace froze again. His light-detectors staying fixed on Rocky as they moved forward slowly in their little ball.
When they were close enough and Grace yet had to react they said: "Grace can support himself on xenonite."
Grace sniffed again. Rubbing over his face with his sleeve.
"So Grace don't fall."
"I don't need help," Grace said. "I'm a big boy."
Rocky hummed in acknowledgment, while their insides froze in ice cold liquor.
"Everyone needs help," Rocky said calmly. "Rocky needs help from Grace. Needs help a lot. Rocky is big boy, no?"
Grace didn't react for a while seemingly thinking about it.
Then he nodded.
In the next second his hand came upon Rocky's ball and he heaved himself up the rest of the way, swaying a little.
Together they slowly made their way to the med bay.
Rocky continued their calming hum. It seemed to have an effect on Grace's heart beat. Every time their hum receded a little, the heart beat would pick up again. Thumping loudly as if trying to escape Grace's ribcage.
He was so afraid.
It didn't take long for them to reach the med bay. Armando beeping in registration of their presence.
Grace flinched a little at the noise, unconsciously shifting closer to Rocky, who had to press themselves a little stronger against Grace to outbalance the shift.
"Grace can sit on bed. Armando can wrap hand. Grace need to activate Armando." Rocky explained.
Grace nodded. Without any arguments - which adult Grace would have not stopped emitting from his orifice in regards to Rocky's overbearing - Grace climbed onto the bed. He carefully angled his bleeding arm so that nothing could touch the bedding.
His eyes immediately fell on the little fox lying hidden under the covers, but he did not move to take it. Instead his gaze flicked away as if even looking at it could result in punishment.
Rocky felt an angry buzz race through their body.
When Grace finally sat at the edge of the bed, holding his injured hand tenderly he did not activate Armando as Rocky thought he would. He just sat there, silently sniffing. The protection lids of his light detectors frequently moved up and down and Rocky realized he was blinking away the tears. Grace's shoulder were hunched, his legs intertwined as if to keep himself from moving.
"Grace need to tell Armando to fix injury." Rocky said softly.
Grace flinched once more. Then he nodded.
"Armando," he mumbled. "My hand is bleeding."
The robot beeped awake. The arm-like bot unfolded from the ceiling with a quiet mechanical whirr.
Grace flinched, but he did not pull away when Armando grabbed his arm and scanned the wound.
The opposite. He held perfectly still. Not even a hiss escaped him.
He just bit his lip hard, hard enough that Rocky worried he might get another wound.
“Laceration detected,” the medical system announced. “Length: three-point-two centimetres. No tendon damage detected. No nerve damage detected. Foreign material present. Irrigation and wound closure recommended.”
Grace stared at the blood coating his hand. He did not move when Armando took the bandages and the spray, did not wince, did not struggle.
Rocky's insides churned at how unnatural it all felt.
On Erid, Pebbles screamed during medical examinations.
They climbed over their Caregivers, hid beneath them and clung with every available limb. They complained before an instrument ever touched them. They demanded songs, warm stones and promises of treats afterward.
Older Littles were often more restrained, but even they reached for someone. A claw. A familiar carapace. The vibrations of a trusted voice.
No competent Eridian medical worker would have considered noise misbehaviour.
Noise told them where the pain was.
Noise called Caregivers closer.
Grace made none.
“Hurts, question?” Rocky asked.
Grace shook his head.
"Is okay if it hurts," Rocky said, because Rocky could hear the heartbeat. Could hear it spike every time Armando pulled a little too tight or moved a little to fast.
Grace nodded.
Rocky shifted nervously on their feet.
They were a Caregiver. They should be a natural at this. They should be able to ease Grace's pain and fear. And yet, they were completely out of their depth.
It didn't make it any easier, that they couldn't even touch Grace, which they so desperately wished.
They had read on the human-thinking machine that human's liked it when they were stroked through the hair, when they shared body warmth, when they got kneaded like dough.
Rocky wanted to do it all for Grace.
They wished they could.
They wished they had more xenonite to build a proper suit.
"Grace is hurting," Rocky said softly.
Grace flinched. He ducked his head in shame, scrunching his shoulders up more as if he could disappear.
With a final beep Armando finished his task and folded back into the ceiling.
Grace stayed sitting, hunched in on himself. The hand immediately pulling close to wrap around himself.
Grace's hands grabbed his shirt, pulling and scrunching it beneath the fingers. The heartbeat was still elevated and little shakes ran through his body.
"Is okay," Rocky said and carefully moved forward. They couldn't hug the Little. They couldn't wrap him up, couldn't pull him close, but they could be there.
Grace - this time - did not flinch, nor pull away. They didn't react at all, when Rocky rolled close enough to press their xenonite ball against Grace's legs.
"Rocky is there," they said. "Rocky protects Grace. Grace is okay. Grace did good."
"Grace needs to clean up the mess," the small voice whispered. It sounded wobbly and thick, as if great strain was pushed on the vocal cords to keep them steady.
"No," Rocky soothed. "Not now. Problem for later."
"I can be good," the next words were whispered.
They were soft.
Practices.
Something hot and violent surged through Rocky's body.
They imagined Grace much smaller. Physically young instead of only trapped within a young headspace. Soft and fragile and surrounded by adult humans large enough to hurt him.
They imagined him learning that pain needed to be silent.
Rocky forced their claws to loosen.
Grace could feel anger through the floor. Even if he did not understand Eridian body language fully yet, he understood vibration. Rocky would not allow their rage at unseen humans to become another thing that frightened him.
“Grace already good,” they said.
Grace looked down again. But didn't say anything.
Rocky's words probably didn't sink into Grace's heart. Just another Caregiver saying pointless things to keep the Little calm. For now it didn't matter, Rocky would make sure Grace learned in time. How precious they were, how amazing. How wonderful.
Rocky promised themselves that Grace would have the best life on Erid he could have ever wished for.
For now Rocky started humming. A soft Lullaby that vibrated through the room. A song meant for the Pebbles of Erid. Rocky's parent had already sung it to them when they had been small and so had their grandparent to their parent.
A lot of songs on Erid were loud and crispy, full of joy and laughter and happiness. Meant for dancing and celebrating.
This song however - it was meant to feel like silk. Smooth and warm. It vibrated through the metallic grid of the Hail Mary, pulsing through the core of the ship.
Grace's tension slowly eased away. The shoulders lowered as the song worked its magic.
Curiosity.
It made Grace' head straighten a little, his eyes moving around, as if to take it all in.
His mouth fell open a little. Rocky knew this expression by now.
It was wonder.
Awe.
A pleasant shiver ran down their carapace.
Grace's hand fell on the top of Rocky's sphere, seemingly unconsciously. It made joy burst through the fragile atmosphere they had build.
A sign of trust.
"Grace can hold fox," they said with their unoccupied vocal pipes currently not singing.
Grace startled. As if he had realized he had touched Rocky's sphere they let go. Immediately pulling their hand back to their body.
Rocky mourned the distance instantly. Their song seemed to continue taking effect though. Grace's heart instantly calmed again as they looked to the ground.
"I'm not supposed to."
The word were barely audible.
Rocky lowered their hum.
"Why?"
Grace shrugged.
"I'm a big boy."
The phrase came out with the careful certainty of something memorised from another person.
Rocky understood.
The fox belonged to the part of Grace he believed needed to remain hidden. Whoever or whatever had caused this Rocky did not know and currently they didn't have to. They just needed to focus on Grace.
"Hmm," Rocky hummed. "Rocky likes fox. Can Rocky hold?"
Grace scrunched up his face again.
"Rocky can't hold Foxxie. He will burn in your air!"
Rocky gasped.
"But Foxxie looks sad," Rocky lowered their hum, mimicking a sad voice.
Grace looked over at the Fox, biting his lip.
"Rocky thinks Foxxie needs company. Rocky thinks Grace should hold Foxxie in Rocky's place then. Because Rocky can not touch."
Grace didn't answer for a second. His face stayed on the little plush ears peaking out from beneath the blanket.
"Is Rocky sad?" Grace asked.
Rocky was taken aback. For a second their song lost its rhythm. They quickly recovered again, continuing to hum.
"Rocky is happy," they answered truthfully. "Why Grace ask?"
"Because no one holds Rocky," Grace whispered.
He reached for the fox.
Before his hands closed around it, he hesitated.
"Rocky won't be mad?"
"Why should Rocky be mad?" Rocky asked confused.
Grace bit his bottom lip. Then he shrugged.
Rocky wanted to press. They wanted the truth dragged into the open where they could examine it and repair every damaged part.
But Grace was not a machine. Trust could not be forced into alignment.
"No, Grace. Rocky will be happy, because Grace can hug Foxxie."
Grace finally reached for the fox.
The instant his fingers closed around it, he pulled it tightly against his chest. His face buried itself between the soft ears, hiding from Rocky and Armando alike.
The tension in his body eased.
Not completely.
But enough.
Rocky’s caregiving instincts surged so powerfully that their hind legs struck the floor of the sphere.
The Little startled.
“Happy sound,” Rocky explained quickly. “Rocky happy fox helps Grace.”
Grace peered over the toy’s head.
"Rocky needs a hug too?" Grace mumbled.
"Rocky would love hug," Rocky answered. "Makes Rocky happy happy happy."
They rolled backwards a little waving their front arms in the air and emitting little clicking noises from them.
It made Grace giggle.
At first Rocky wasn't sure they had heard right. But when they clicked a little more the beautiful sound of chimes draped over the song Rocky was still singing.
Rocky loved when adult Grace laughed. They loved when adult Grace giggled.
But they nearly burst from cuteness-aggression when Little Grace giggled. It was higher, softer … younger.
Rocky emitted a happy hum.
"Okay," Grace said and immediately hopped down from the cot.
He turned around, grabbing his blanket and pillow and threw it next to Rocky on the floor.
Rocky wanted to know what Grace was doing, but they feared their question might make Grace retreat again, so they remained silent.
And watched.
They watched Grace pull out more pillows and blankets. Probably from the crewmates Rocky never got to meet and threw them on the floor too. Soon it looked like a cozy little nest surrounding Rocky.
It was cute to watch how Grace moved with concentration, fluffing the pillows, making sure the blankets were in the correct position.
After a while Grace stopped, seemingly satisfied. Then they nestled into the blanket mountain himself, Foxxie in his arms and pressed close to Rocky's sphere.
Rocky folded their legs beneath them at what Grace often called the 'loaf'-position, continuing to sing.
Grace's arms wrapped around Rocky's ball as far as they could reach, his body positioned like a half-moon, making sure that there was as much contact as possible between him and Rocky.
When Grace was finally done, he looked up at the Eridian with big curious eyes.
"Rocky like?" He asked carefully.
Rocky hummed loudly.
"Yes," they said. "Rocky like a lot."
They remained like this for a while, until Rocky could hear Grace's heart beat slow down and his eyes closed for longer periods of time.
"Grace should sleep," Rocky hummed.
Grace's eyes opened wider again, blinking rapidly.
"Not tired."
Rocky let out a few puffs, imitating human laughter.
"Grace bad liar in all headspaces."
The moment the words left Rocky's body, they wished they could take it back.
Grace's body went rigid.
The blinking stopped.
Fear returned to his heartbeat so quickly that Rocky wished they could pull the words back.
Grace looked down at Foxxie.
“I’m not,” he whispered.
Rocky remained silent.
“Not little.”
There it was.
The terror beneath every hidden object, every swallowed need and every exhausted refusal to rest.
Rocky could have told him that they knew.
They could have explained Eridian classifications, Caregiver instincts and everything they had learned from the human-thinking machine.
It would have been true.
It also would have frightened Grace.
So Rocky chose something else.
“Okay. Grace not Little.”
Grace sniffed.
“Grace is tired scientist holding fox in dark.”
“Yes.”
“Rocky can care for tired scientist, question?”
Grace hums slowly drifting off to sleep.
"Yeah."
It didn't take long for the Pebble to get pulled into the depths of sleep.
Rocky couldn't help the tension draining out of them. As if they themselves had been strong long enough for the small vulnerable Little to fall asleep before falling apart themselves.
For a frightened Little was supposed to seek safety.
That was the natural order of things.
Grace had attempted to disappear. Had made himself small enough that a lesser being might have overlooked him.
Whatever had happened to him, it had corrupted one of the most basic instincts a Little possessed: the belief that a Caregiver would come when called.