Chapter Text
Grace’s POV:
The world slowly fades back in. I blink up at the bright ceiling lights in the Hail Marys laboratory. Why am I on the floor? It sure as heck isn't comfortable down here. I slowly sit up, my head spinning slightly, and wince as I feel what will soon be nasty bruises at the back of my arms and head. Now to find out why I ended up down here. I pull myself up with a white knuckled grip on my desk and manage to plop myself down on the chair I evidently evacuated for some reason.
Staring up at the ceiling hurts my eyes, so I close them again. Why would I end up on the floor? Considering that a spontaneous nap is unlikely, especially considering I had just slept six hours ago, and Rocky had made it a point to enforce a very strict bed routine on our way to Erid, the only possible reason seems to be that I passed out. Speaking of Rocky, I can already hear the telltale scuttling of his solid claws in his xenonite tunnels. He must've heard the noise of me hitting the floor, so obviously he'd come check on me. It puts a small smile on my face. And just as assumed, Rocky appears in the entrance of his part of the tunnel.
"Grace okay? I see loud noise and Grace lying on ground. Why do that, question? Is dumb dumb dumb, statement! Cold floor not good for Grace leaky human body."
"Nice to see you too Rock. I'm fine, just passed out I think. I should probably go to Armando to see why..." My voice sounds a little strangled, I'm still dealing with the aftermath of taking a dive off the chair.
"Passed... out? What mean, question?"
"Means my body shut down for a moment. Like what happened to me when we tried to leave Adrian, remember?"
I only realize that that might've been a very bad example to use when Rocky starts to screech alarmed. I have the brief thought that he sounds like a dying Furby when he does that.
"Grace hurt? Grace in pain? Bad bad bad bad bad bad bad bad, statement! Why Grace no tell me, question, statement?!"
"No, no, its fine Rock, it really is. Our bodies just do that sometimes. Could’ve been for a lot of reasons."
I open my arms as if to present my still intact body to him. Rocky still chirps distressed, and I find it amazing how many emotions his computerized voice can convey.
"See? No blood. I'll only have a few bruises."
That seems to calm Rocky down, though he still basically bullies me over to where Armando is resting.
“Grace go check out now now now, statement!”
I sigh but let the little gremlin verbally herd me towards the Medbot. As Armando scans me for any surface damage, I wrack my brain on what could’ve caused me to lose consciousness so suddenly. I wasn’t working with any chemicals that could’ve caused that, did I? No, I was just checking on the Taumoeba farms to make sure the little buggers aren’t evolving without supervision anymore. I also have eaten and had some water today. Rocky is very insistent with that too. So, what other reasons are there? Because a spontaneous relocation to the ground, especially headfirst, is really dangerous. I’m lucky that I didn’t split my head open. Armando beeps as they are done with the check-up, and their screen shows nothing but the bruises I was already aware of. At least I didn’t hurt myself more. In that case, time for the strategy that has kept me alive for so long.
“See Rock? I’m all fine. Nothing badly hurt, just some bruises.”
I can feel the disapproving energy radiate off him as he holds his screen-seeing-gun thing, but before he can fight me on my blissful ignorance, I turn back to the lab.
“Well then, back to work we go!”
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Rocky’s POV:
Grace has been acting odd ever since he “pass out” three days ago. He’s been secretive, as if he could hide the fact that he hasn’t been feeling well from me. Or the fact that he has been what he calls “lightheaded” a few times since then and before then. Why his fragile human body refuses to properly send blood into his head sometimes is a mystery to me, like a lot of things about his biology are. Adding to that, he has been a lot more clumsy than usual lately, bumping into every possible surface. As much as I admire his scientific genius, he has the survival instinct of a particularly clueless pebble.
I am suddenly shaken out of my thoughts by a loud clatter from the sleeping room. I am on my claws faster than I can register and run through my tunnels until I reach it. There, I see Grace, next to an empty syringe of the hormones he has to take biweekly, laying on the floor. I cant see any of his blood outside of his body, and remember that he usually does those shots sitting with his back to the cot. I also remember a conversation we had on the day he pass out.
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“There is nothing Rocky can do to help Grace when Grace pass out, question?”
He sat in front of me with a mug of the bean water he calls coffee in his hand, wrapped in his quilt.
“Not really. Can’t wake me from being unconscious, at least. I suppose you could count how long I’m out for, that would be helpful for Armando to log. But I doubt it’ll happen again anyways bud, so no need to worry!”
He had smiled at me in a way that I know is supposed to be reassuring. Whatever is supposed to be reassuring about showing your skeleton to others as a species with an endoskeleton. Whatever, I got used to it. I just also saw the uncertainty in his face, the way he fidgets when he’s lying. We both knew he was lying.
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I sit down (loaf, the Grace-shaped voice in my head throws in unhelpfully) in my tunnel, as close to Grace as I can, and start counting the seconds, adding them to the time since I heard the crash. It’s a rough estimate since I didn’t start counting immediately, but its good enough.
After 94 Earth seconds, about two Earth minutes since I heard the clatter, Grace slowly wakes up. It’s a long, clearly uncomfortable process and as soon as he can turn his head from side to side, I talk.
“Grace. Grace pass out again, statement. Grace said would not happen again, statement. Grace lie lie lie, statement! Rocky count time like Grace said. Grace unconscious for two Earth minutes.”
Grace clutches his head with one hand and makes a strange noise I usually only hear from him when I wake him up early.
“I was? Jimny Christmas, that’s long…”
I whistle disapprovingly. He should tell me what’s wrong already. He should tell me so I can fix. But he just won’t, and that is enough to drive even the most patient Eridian mad, not that I am one of them. Grace has the audacity to wave me off as he collects his dropped materials and puts them back into their storage unit. In that moment I promise to myself that I will find out what is wrong with him, so that I can fix.
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Sooooo… Rocky is determined to “fix” my passing out. It has happened seven times within the last two weeks, and I may practice pointed ignorance like a religion when it comes to my own health, but even I can admit that that isn’t normal. However, I don’t want to burden Rocky with it. That isn’t fair towards him. And really, it clearly isn’t anything too dangerous, considering nothing but a few spontaneous naptimes have happened so far. And its not like it has been badly interrupting my day-to-day life up in the Hail Mary.
…Okay, it does. I don’t like passing out, and I hate hitting my head on the ground when I do, so I have been reluctant to do much that requires standing for too long, out of fear I will actually split my head this time. So maybe it is affecting me a bit, maybe it does scare me, so what? It’s nothing I can’t handle and certainly nothing Rocky needs to worry about. Besides, what could I do about it? Armando doesn’t have the sensors to clock an incoming ground visit and its not like I can get one of those dogs that can sniff out fainting spells up here.
I sigh deeply, maybe a bit dramatic, and lean my head on the big circular window, looking out at the universe. Why can’t anything be easy for once? I just want to enjoy my new life with my new best friend and possibly in a few years the people of his planet. Why can’t things work out for me?
I sniffle and immediately feel a bit stupid for crying. What, now I’m crying over something I can’t fix anyways? …Yeah, I am. I hide my face in my good luck quilt, tears rolling down my cheek. I sniffle loudly, and before long, the quiet tears turn into loud sobs. How is this something I’m crying about now, after everything I went through? After being forced onto the Hail Mary, after thinking I lost Rocky, after saying goodbye to him and after realizing that I can’t go back to Earth if I save him. After all that, passing out is the thing I cry about? Gosh, I’m being such a baby.
I barely even notice the fact that I’m feeling a bit lightheaded, until Rocky rolls towards me in his hamster ball and nudges my leg through the contact panel. I lift my undoubtedly swollen and red face from my arms and look at him through blurry eyes.
“Wha? Buddy, what’s up?”
Rocky chitters worried. “Grace lay down, command. Grace have little blood in head, Grace about to pass out.”
I look confused and apparently do not move fast enough for his liking, because he janks me down my flight suit and I follow the motion until I lay under my quilt with my head in a safe position. Before I can ask him how he knows this, the world slowly becomes black around the edges and I lose consciousness.
As I come to again, Rockys ball somewhat cushions my head, and I can hear his claws clack as he counts the seconds. When I open my eyes, I can only smile at the hunched, worried way he is sitting in his ball.
“Hey buddy. I’m back.”
“OH, oh, good good good, Rocky count again. Grace unconscious for three minutes and 19 seconds, statement. Grace not hurt, question?”
I shake my head fondly. “No, all good thanks to you bud. How did you know it was coming?”
Rocky makes a sound that suspiciously sounds like a huff. “Rocky know because Rocky saw little blood in Grace brain and Grace heartrate go down bit. Rocky went to tell Grace so Grace doesn’t hit head again.”
My smile gets wider as he speaks. How lucky am I to have a best friend that can basically sniff out my fainting spells? I gently pat his ball.
“Thanks Rock. Really. That probably saved me a nasty headache.”
I don’t mention how scared the prospect of fainting made me. Now, with him looking out for me, it isn’t half as bad anymore. Sure, the fainting still sucks, but at least I have someone that looks out for me now. I briefly get sad at the memory that I never had someone like him back on Earth. Not even my ex cared this much for me. But the sadness is soon replaced by a warm feeling in my chest when Rocky chirps relived and presses the top of his carapace against the spot where my hand lays on the xenonite of his ball. Yeah, this is a much nicer feeling.