Chapter Text
“Rude, Rude, Rude.” Rocky sighs, and the very inflection in those musical notes makes Ryland Grace’s eye twitch. The side eye, that one of Grace’s 8th graders might consider “bombastic”, he gives to Rocky is lethal.
Everything has been irking him in the last 24, maybe 36 hours. He didn’t know why. Nothing in particular has been at the forefront of his mind, nothing enough that it would get in the way of him being nice at work. The lab Grace had the opportunity to permanently work in was amazing. There was more space than Grace could ever ask for. Many pieces from the Hail Mary that weren’t in his habitat had ended up here. Connecting this lab was a large airlock, and on the other side was the Eridian lab.
He hasn’t noticed it yet, but he was being rude, rude and rude.
“I am not being rude.” He deflects, pouting at his work station. He stares intently at the project staring back at him. The staring contest he’s had with this thing was making his eyes dry and painful.
“Mmm. No. Grace has a major ‘tude.”
Grace gasps, “Don’t use my own phrase against me.” He projects, the delicate tool in his hand fumbling from his fingers and onto the lab floor. “Rocky …” Grace grumbles, finding that the annoyance he was feeling was balling up on the tips of his fingers. Matter of factly, that feeling was everywhere. In his spine, his tight shoulders, the hinge of his jaw.
“How is that Rocky’s fault?” Rocky asks, and Grace does have to give it to him. He had no part in that whatsoever.
Alright … maybe he was a little grumpy lately. But he didn’t know why! He really couldn’t place his finger on what the cause could be. Nothing of note was weighing heavy on his mind. He hadn’t even had a flashback or sudden memory in a while. What could he chalk it up to? His students were hard to work with yesterday. Grace’s usual endless parents of rowdy kids (a universal experience, it seems) was diminished a lot quicker. It actually took some self resolve to not huff or whine at them.
Sleeping has been difficult lately. He tossed and turned a lot more, and woke up several times. He doesn’t think he got enough REM sleep by any means. After the third time waking up, in a slight sweat every time and feeling too hot, he wished he could sleep like an Eridian. Just pass out and literally not be able to wake up. When he noticed his appetite was lacking, then he started to think maybe he was just getting sick. He was under the weather when he first got to Erid, so why couldn’t he get sick again? His body temperature wasn't usually the 98.6 degrees it should be. He was running around 100.5, which wasn’t anything to worry about yet.
Rocky? Well Rocky was always able to annoy him.
That was a defining feature of their relationship. They would argue and bicker here and there— nothing truly harmful. Rocky has been really ragging on him for not understanding the deeper information about xenonite.
The xenonite they had on the ship was the safest kind to take to space. There was a whole entire xenonite iceberg that he wasn’t expecting.
“I am not having a ‘tude problem.” Grace growled, “You are being impatient.” He tells him, sitting upright again pointing his discarded tool toward Rocky. “Stop forgetting I’m literally relearning how an entire world works— especially the material it is made of and surrounding me. I’d like to see you do that.”
It took hundreds of years for humans to know what they know today. Grace was just one human, and the task of wanting to know every single detail of his new home was daunting.
“Probably could do it quicker. Statement.” Grace rolls his eyes. His hand grips the tool tighter— too tight. “Grace say Grace can finish the project in 3 days— we are over by 2 and a half. Eridians scientists eager to get a prototype and review it.”
Grace squints looking at this prototype. It had been a little over a year and a half since he had landed on Erid. 6 months of that? He’d been incredibly sick. It took him two months just to relearn how to walk. Even with that major setback, his understanding of the new world around him was better and better. If he wasn’t teaching young Eridians about the speed of light and other fantastic things— he was helping Rocky, Adrian and other talented scientists with xenonite infrastructure and how astrophage can be used in ways to benefit Eridian society. It definitely leaned into Rocky and Adrian being engineers— and not quite Grace’s near infinite knowledge of microbiology.
So yeah. Maybe he feels a little stupid. Maybe that was converting itself into some sass, which was forming into a bad ‘tude situation.
But how could he not have one! He was frustrated. Eridian technology was so very difficult to work with, despite Rocky’s claim that human tech was more advanced. He thinks it’s because so much of it consists of flat screens with no indent to help Rocky see... and working with xenonite alone wanted to make Grace’s head spin. He didn’t realize how advanced xenonite could be on Erid.
It was all still… hard. Did it feel impossible? Not anymore. He remembers being so overwhelmed by everything. He felt like he was being reborn again. He had to really think sometimes. To deny that he liked the challenge would be a lie. Some days, he felt more in the way than being helpful, and lately the feeling of being an obstacle for the team he worked with was at the forefront of his mind. Yesterday he had decided to leave early after getting in a small disagreement with an Eridian he named Bill, after the movie Kill Bill. The name suited him.
“Look,” Grace says, running his hands over his face and pushing his finger underneath his glasses, bringing them up with him as his fingers combed through his hair. He starts to fiddle now with them, rubbing some dirt off the frame. “I am trying really hard, alright? I’m- I’m not trying to mess around but- I just haven’t been … ” Grace’s sentence drags off as this sharp feeling hits his stomach. It’s not the same as a stomach ache or even the well familiar feeling of hunger pains. His hands hold onto his abdomen, glasses gripped by one finger. Grace squinting in discomfort. He’s felt this feeling before. But where?
“Feeling good ...” Where was this coming from? It’s getting worse. He winces.
“Grace alright, question?”
“Uhm …” His breathing gets heavy. Suddenly a hot flash washes over him, cheeks going flush.
“Grace not alright. What wrong?” Rocky asks, taking steps toward him. Grace feels something on the tip of his tongue- but he can’t figure it out. It’s right there in the forefront of his mind. What could this be?
“I don’t know.”
Grace stands up, pulling at his shirt. God, it got hot in here quick! Was it really him, or was the AC to his part of the lab not working? “Rocky— tell Kill Bill I am sorry. I need a minute …” he hisses at how his abdomen cramps up. “I will be back no matter what to finish that prototype. Alright?”
“Rocky go with Grace! Worried. Statement."
“No- no. It’s alright.” He smiles through his wince of pain. “Can you just look over those notes I have?”
Rocky hands clamp together a few times. He obviously doesn’t want to, and in a way that’s very sweet. But right now, Grace needed a minute by himself.
“Fine.” Rocky grumbled. “You’ll be back? Question”
Grace nods earnestly. “Promise.” He gives Rocky a thumbs down.
Grace is trying to go back through his library of memories.
He walked the length of his enclosed home for well over an hour. Scaling the beach quietly, watching the waves roll close to his shoes. He hasn’t gotten sick of the scenery, especially with the moody fog always rolling in. It usually clears his head, it makes him feel better. But the oh-so slightly present pain in his abdomen worsens again, and he feels like he needs to just go home.
By the time he’s at his door. He’s flush again. “What is going on with me!?” He asks no one, making a large dramatic gesture with his hands before tugging his shirt off. The heat and the cramping- what, is it a lack of potassium? It has been years since he had a banana (or any real fruit). Is he having some strange reaction?
He decides that a shower would be best. A cold one, despite knowing the heat would help with his abdomen. If he got any warmer though he’d melt!
His legs feel weird, like a newborn fawn, as he stands and lets the water run over him. Instead, Grace opts to settle to the floor, still wondering what was going on with him. His hands hold his stomach, knees bunched together.
Suddenly he realizes. It’s like a hit to the face. His very soul drops to the bottom of his chest.
He’s going into heat. Estrus!
At first, he’s in denial. He picks his head with a loud, “No fucking way!” But right when the thought comes, he has a flash back.
He’s cold but too hot to leave the overhead spray of the shower. Utterly miserable, staring at the tile walls which told him this was the shitty apartment from when he just graduated college. He is huddled into a ball as he leans pathetically against them. Very similar to now.
Grace blinks the water away from his eyes. The purpose of the cold shower was to not feel like he was dying with fever. He also knows better than to stay like this too long. Just because he felt warm didn’t mean he wasn’t putting himself into hypothermia. He just … can’t believe it. But how shocked should he really be? Stress can get rid of heat. Through most of his academic years he didn’t get them. Stratt most definitely considered a preventative measure to make sure he didn’t get one while trying to be Earth’s savior. So why now? What changed?
“Oh.” He tells himself, “For once I’m happy.”
He kind of snorts at that. The constant, pounding stress he’s had for years was dissipating. Not that he wasn’t stress free now— but Grace is happier than ever. So that had something to do with it.
Did he have a suppressant implant somewhere? He blinks in surprise. How would he have not noticed the scar? He looks to where they could be placed, looking around his upper arms, then between his thighs. What if Stratt put it in his brain? He squints intently at a mark that might be it, but he can’t be sure for certain. The scar would probably be too faded to ever identify. He feels around and doesn’t feel anything underneath his skin. If he did have one; it had dissolved a while ago.
He starts feeling a chill creep in, yet he sits there, unwilling to move. What is he going to tell Rocky? They had skipped this entire lesson when it came to human biology. He didn’t think it mattered— and he didn’t want to talk about it! It’s a complex topic.
But he can’t just go down for a week. Rocky knows humans don’t hibernate— and he’s not going to tell Rocky false information about anything when it comes to the human body and how it worked. Rocky just … hasn’t asked the right questions when it comes to a person’s secondary characteristics. Rocky hasn’t lied to him either. He even allowed Grace to see him eat— which was an incredibly vulnerable moment for their kind! Who was he to further keep this vulnerable information from him?
He still can’t believe it! It’s been … years. Grace missed the blissful ignorance he had when he was in his induced coma. He wished he could be the man he was an hour ago, where this wasn’t a problem in any shape or form.
Grace reaches up and turns the water off. He stands up slowly, taking a deep breath once his head is held high.
He feels better.
It would be a week of this and other increasing symptoms until like a catalase, he’d be fully enthralled and wouldn’t be of any benefit to anyone. A week might be enough time to make some kind of suppressant? He felt ridiculous. This wasn’t some dire situation. He just was going to be sick for a little bit.
Experience the worst pain of his life. For a week.
There is a common misconception that a heat is just a week of feeling endlessly aroused and lost in lust. It was in fact, the complete opposite.
It was agonizingly painful. Every muscle in your body contorts. You’re painfully feverish. There was always a mind-splitting headache that would come in waves. Grace could never keep food down. He’d lose weight like there was no tomorrow. Sleep was non-existent.
The reason this reproductive behavior exists for many omegas was simple. If the alpha could not smell your pheromones, they would certainly be able to hear you in agony. Heats made omegas vulnerable, so adapting every possible way to get an alpha’s attention to protect you during estrus was vital. It’s horrifying to think about. The only relief from the pain would be when you were claimed by an alpha with a territorial mark on your neck or you know, by sex.
Grace shudders. He wanted nothing to do with an alpha during a heat. He just wants the medicine that makes it bearable.
He checks the time. He’s been gone longer than he wanted. He should probably get a hold of Rocky and explain this all.
First though … he really needed to finish that prototype.