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Grace sniffled, rubbing his eyes and wiping away the tears that ran down his cheeks while Rocky slept, trying to pull himself together before his friend woke up, saw him having a breakdown again and decided that he needed to fret over Grace and his stupid, leaky human brain.
"C'mon Grace," he muttered to himself, hands gripping his hair and pulling on it slightly. "Pull it together."
He'd left Rocky for only a moment, needing to change his shirt after he spilled coffee on it, preferring to eat and drink when Rocky was asleep so it wouldn't bother his friend. Rocky said he didn't mind, that he was used to it, but Grace just called it a common courtesy, especially when it came to eating. Digging through his clothes, he'd found himself out of clean shirts, all except for ones that weren't his and grabbed one at random, hoping that the oversized shirts that Ilyukhina packed herself would fit him.
He'd known what shirt it was as soon as he picked it up, the soft and familiar fabric pooling in his hands, reminding him of the day he'd gotten it for her. He'd been the one to pick it out, gifting it to Ilyukhina as a gag gift over one of the first holiday celebrations on the Vat, knowing that she'd love it. And she did, wearing it over the entire week after she'd gotten it until she'd been forced to clean it after Dimitri ran into her with a full coffee cup. Grace still speculated that Stratt had paid him to do that just to get Ilyukhina out of it for a day.
He'd seen Stratt hand Dimitri a $5 after, pretty damning evidence in his opinion, which Ilyukhina was not happy about, making the Russian buy her a shot as an apology after.
Once cleaned, it'd gone into her usual rotation, letting her join the small 'stupid shirts club' of her and Grace on the ship that quickly expanded after to include most of the mission crew and Carl, under his suits.
For gifting it, he remembered it clearly now, Grace had thrown it into a bright red and sparkly gift bag with a bottle of vodka he'd had Dimiti help him pick out for her. A plain black tee shirt that was 2 sizes to big because Ilyukhina loved her oversized shirts with white block writing that read 'Liquor? If she'll let me'.
It had been something he'd seen online and bought immediately, hiding it away in his little shoebox of a room until the holidays rolled around, packing it up just like the gifts he'd gotten for everyone else and waiting for her to open it.
Grace hadn't realized the tears that slipped down his face as his mind forced him to relive the tight hug she'd given him when she opened it at the party, sprinting to embrace him before throwing it on over her other clothes immediately as she popped open the bottle of authentic Russian vodka he'd packed with it, urging him to take a drink with her, forcing him to take more than a few shots with her.
God, she'd held him so tightly, hugging him with a force he'd never known but craved more than anything now. He just wanted to feel her wrapped around him again, a tight embrace full of affection and joy. Despite his reservations on Earth, he just wanted to feel the tight embrace of anyone now.
He hadn't realized how much he missed her bright and lively energy, Yao's calming and strong presence until now. He'd never given himself a moment to miss them until now, focusing on the mission to hide his grief over people that he could hardly remember most days, an empty blank space where his crew mates should have been.
Sitting against the wall, facing Rocky, Grace tucked the shirt against his chest, sobbing into the soft fabric that still smelled of vodka and perfume, the floral one that Ilyukhina loved to use. The one she said was a gift from her sister and reminded her of home. The same bottle that had been in her bag beside the shirt, a final way to bring home with her into the unknown depths of space. It was still full to the top like it always would be.
Tears continued to race down his face as memories flooded through his mind, ones that he never would have missed under any other circumstances: hugs.
He'd hated physical contact like that ever since he was a child, the sensation making him feel like his skin was too tight and he couldn't breathe. Now though, he'd give anything to be held in the same way as then. Sensory deprivation in the form of loss contact was a hell in itself and Grace was forced to feel every grueling second of it as time carried on and he got further and further away from the nearest living people over 12 light years away.
"Grace," a quiet voice chirped in front of him, moving as close as he could to the xenonite wall, practically climbing on it to be face-to-carapace with his friend. "What wrong, question?"
"Nothing bud," Grace sniffled, pushing his own feelings aside for a moment, or at least attempting to. "I'm okay, just being a leaky space blob. You know, the usual."
Pull it together, Grace, he chastised himself internally, trying over and over to stop the tears that flowed freely. You barely remember them. Rocky lost 22 of his friends, his own family, and you never see him break down over it. Get over yourself.
"Grace," Rocky said more sternly, pulling himself into his suit and walking over to Grace at a record speed. "Grace stupid when tired. Grace think Grace can lie to Rocky. Tell now," he demanded, stomping a leg as he spoke, showing Grace that he meant business, that he wasn't just going to let this slide.
"It's nothing," Grace pushed, his tears slowing as he focused on something, someone other than the dead woman's clothes he was holding in his grasp like a lifeline.
Rocky didn't respond, simply huffing as he flared his vents, plopping himself down on the floor in front of Grace. He wasn't moving anytime soon, at least not until Grace was honest with him.
"Grace."
"Rocky."
"Why not tell Rocky what wrong, question? Why hide how feel, question?" Rocky rambled, tapping his leg against the ground rapidly as he spoke. "Grace promise be honest with Rocky. Grace not be honest now. Grace no trust Rocky, question?"
"God, no, of course not," Grace sputtered out immediately. "I trust you with my life. You know that, Rock."
"Grace trust Rocky with life but not emotion. Why, question?"
"It's just… it's not something I want to talk about. It's not something I should burden you with too."
"Is no burden," Rocky chirped, crawling closer to Grace, pushing himself into his friend's side and under his arm, slotted right against his ribs. It was Rocky's preferred spot - right next to Grace's heart and lungs, perfect for listening to the soothing melody that saved his life. "Rocky want be here for Grace, help Grace. Let Rocky help. Please," he added softly.
Sighing, Grace found himself losing this battle, relenting at Rocky's plea. It wasn't often Rocky said 'please' and Grace did promise to be better about not avoiding himself and his feelings, so he'd let Rocky in. Rocky had seen all of him already, all of his anger and cowardice, the things that pushed people away time and time again. But, Rocky loved him anyway, even if Grace himself couldn't understand it.
Grace figured he might as well trust him with this too.
"I… I was thinking about my crew," Grace began, speaking softly as Rocky purred gently, listening intently as Grace talked. "I was thinking about how much I miss them and how I wish I could remember more about them," he continued, tears beginning to fall again, but he didn't wipe them away. "I wish I could tell them how proud of them I am, how thankful I am for them and what they did. I wish they were back on Earth with their families and their loved ones. I-" a sob broke through him, rippling through his whole body as he curled in on himself, Rocky wrapping a leg around him. "I just wish it could have been different."
"Rocky understand," his friend solemnly sang out, thinking of his own crew and the families they had left behind. The children who would grow up without parents, the mates that would be heartbroken when they heard that Rocky was the only survivor. "Rocky understand well."
"God, Rock. I-I'm sorry," Grace stuttered out, wiping his eyes rapidly as he tried to calm himself again. "I shouldn't be making you deal with this. You've been through far more than I have. I should be over it by now in all honesty. I shouldn't even be this upset over it. I mean, it was only 2 people, not 22, and it's not like I knew their families personally like you did-"
"Quiet," Rocky snapped, making Grace silence and stiffen at a moments notice. "Tell Rocky that Rocky hear wrong. Tell Rocky that Rocky no hear Grace speak bad about grief crew."
"I just-"
"No," Rocky cut him off, pulling himself into Grace's lap, pressing himself tight against his friend's chest, purring softly. "Grace no feel bad for grief. Both Rocky Grace lose crew. Sad sad sad. Rocky no more sad than Grace for more loss. Grace no less sad than Rocky for less loss. All loss hurt, especially friends. No competition for sad in grief," he rambled, holding Grace tight as he spoke, Grace's arms coming to wrap around Rocky's carapace. "Is okay for Grace miss crew. Worry Rocky if Grace no miss crew, even if Grace no remember well. Is okay be sad. Rocky Grace be sad together, no alone in grief. No alone ever again."
Grace just nodded, fresh tears filling his eyes as he finally allowed himself to grieve fully, crying roughly as he held onto Rocky with everything he had, arms wrapped around him and pulling him tightly to his chest.
"Yeah," he sobbed, pressing his head against the top of Rocky's carapace. "We're not alone. Never again, buddy. I promise, you'll never be alone again. Not as long as I'm here," he vowed, nuzzling his face against Rocky as broken sobs left his mouth, letting himself grieve freely for once. "I'm not leaving you."
"Grace never alone either," Rocky promised, a sad song of loss being sang quietly with hope intertwined in each note, hope for a future where the loss didn't feel as heavy. "Rocky make sure Grace never alone again. Never never never leave best friend Grace."
Holding each other tight, the survivors of two separate crews sobbed and mourned the loss of their companions, their crewmates, their friends and the loved ones they left behind in the process.
Holding each other tight, broken hearts slowly began to mend and heal as their grief became lighter and lighter, a shared burden among friends.