Chapter Text
I wake up violently, and almost give myself a concussion via xenonite wall.
I curl into myself, trying to escape from phantom grasping hands and the pain in my neck.
The details of the dream are already fading into static, but it's the usual swirling spiral of grabbing hands, Stratt and Carl's voices and the alarms on the Hail Mary.
I don't keep a dream journal, against the advice of the counselor I saw during undergrad. I never remembered my dreams back on Earth and now it'd just be endless iterations of my last moments on Earth, the fishing trip and the occasional new horror my subconscious cooks up.
Seems like a waste of paper.
She was kind, I think. The counselor. Not necessarily helpful but nice.
I don't actually remember much of undergrad. It's all hazy. I do get the feeling I really don't want to remember it though whenever I think about it so I just don't.
I'm getting pretty good at that. The not thinking about it thing.
Anyways.
Sedi startles at my sudden explosion of movement.
Right. That's not a normal thing for Eridians.
Rocky will occasionally wake up flailing but according to him, that's a him thing. I'm fairly certain it's less of a personality quirk and more of a side effect from sleeping unwatched for years on end but I've got no room to judge.
I probably should have briefed Sedi actually. I got so used to just being around Rocky that I forgot basically everything I do is completely alien to the average Eridian. If Sedi is going to be my doctor for the time being, we really need to talk about this kind of stuff.
I wonder what Sedi specializes in.
Probably advanced biology? Or just a very good general doctor? Do Eridians even have comparable medical roles to earth?
Either way, they seem pretty nice which is good. Since I'm probably going to be stuck on the Hail Mary for a while until Erid can sort out where to put me.
…
How long that is going to take is one of the things that goes firmly in the Don't Think About It box.
The box is overflowing and wrapped in copious amounts of duct tape to keep it from bursting open but I still can finagle more things in there.
This metaphor is getting away from me.
What was I thinking?
Sedi. Right.
Sedi gives a concerned sounding chirp at me and, "Are you alright, Grace?"
I flash them a smile and a thumbs up, "Good!"
My smile is a bit strained but Sedi can't "see" it so it's probably fine.
Sedi just nods, then shimmies into a standing position from where they where sitting, surrounded by various small objects and a writing tablet. I don't remember what the tablets are made of, some sort of malleable substance so the writing is "visible" to Eridians. It's really fascinating stuff actually.
I don't know what the small objects are though. They're all various textures, some swirly, some bumpy, some smooth and they look kinda like the models Rocky makes. Art maybe? Tools?
Sedi rummages in one of the piles and holds out a few of them to me.
"Which would you like, question?"
Uh.
One of them is a cube-like object, covered in various patterns and with little switches on it. I point at that one and Sedi sends it over to me via the drawer system me and Rocky used to send stuff back and forth when we first met.
It takes a minute to cool down, but I grab it slightly before I should have and have to quickly put it down to avoid burning my hands.
You would think I would learn after some five years but I don't.
Sedi starts moving around on their side of the barrier as I pick up the cube properly.
It's made of xenonite, which makes sense. It's slightly heavier than I expected, and it's got some sort of internal mechanism. No power source that I can see.
What is this?
Sedi knocks on the barrier, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"What does Grace do during the day, question? What does routine look like, question?"
I shrug.
"Wake. Eat. Fix. Eat. Sleep."
I wake up, I eat breakfast, I check the taumoeba farms and fuel tanks, me and Rocky check for any issues with the ship, then work on various projects and watch The Entirety of Human Media (thank you Stratt) then sleep.
I've been doing less and less as the various deficiencies start to sink in and I start to starve, but that's the main thing.
Sedi hums. "Grace show Sedi usual day, question? Sedi is here to take care of Grace, don't want to disrupt routine."
I don't need to check fuel anymore, given that we're already here but I still need to check the ship in general, and the farms that are still on the ship.
They took some of them down with Rocky but left some here.
Which is good, cause I need to eat them in the absence of real food.
God I miss real food.
What I would do for some soft serve ice cream, or some skittles or a burger.
A lot. I'd do a lot.
Focus.
I nod, then start walking Sedi through the ship. Rocky's got tunnels everywhere so he can go basically anywhere I do normally, though he can't get into some of the more niche places without his suit.
Sedi stumbles as they make their way through the tunnels to where I'm keeping the taumoeba I've been eating. Right. Rocky's used to it, but other Eridians probably don't spend their days climbing over xenonite. Especially the smooth, glass-like variation Rocky uses for his tunnels.
I press my hand to the not-glass, and chirp an "ok, question?" at them.
They straighten up and make an embarrassed sounding hum.
I sit down at the table and-
Wait.
"Grace eat now. Sedi not have watch."
Rocky watches me eat, usually to make sure I'm actually doing it but Eridians think eating is gross. Rocky is just weird because of living in close quarters with an alien for years on end.
Sedi pauses for a second.
"Grace doesn't have to worry. I can leave if desired but whatever Grace prefers."
That's very kind. And weird.
Maybe the eating taboo is less severe when people are sick?
They might be worried about me choking and keeling over with no-one around to help me. Well, Armando would help but still.
I'm also an alien. I did want to know how Rocky ate after all, so this is probably something similar. A one-off for science before they realize how gross I am and stop.
Which would be fine. I can handle eating by myself.
I can handle having to choke down gross, gross, gross space goop without having someone talking me through it / distracting me.
It's fine. It'd be fine.
…
Anyways-
I shrug before pulling out a pouch of taumoeba.
Ugh.
I stare at it for a few seconds.
"What is that, question?"
You know, this is much easier when I don't have to think about what I'm putting into my body. Or what I've been putting into my body. God, what if it evolves in my stomach and eats me from the inside out?
(That's not going to happen. I'm being irrational, if that was going to happen, it would have already. We tested it and it was safe for human consumption. It's been safe, well disgusting and deeply unpleasant, but safe for the past few years.)
(I do have Rocky check to see if my organs are doing anything weird semi-periodically. Just to be sure.)
I sigh and drop my onto the table with a resounding thunk.
Sedi lets out a concerned sounding trill.
"Grace have little food. Grace no food. Grace eat star-eater eater, not hunger-die."
"You eat the predator, question?!"
I sigh again, heavier.
"No food. Star-eater eater bad, hunger-die bad bad bad."
Sedi looks.. surprised. Concerned.
"Is this safe, question?"
They really like asking the million-dollar questions, don't they.
I shrug.
Then I down the pouch in two quick swallows, desperately trying not to taste it or pay attention to the utter sensory nightmare of drinking slime.
I shudder. I drop my head onto the table and wait out the wave of nausea.
I've got this down to a science but it never really gets any better.
Have Rocky distract me, drink it as fast as possible, wait out the five minutes of uncontrollable nausea and get back to work.
I miss Rocky.
I hope he's ok. I hope he gets to see Adrian. I hope he doesn't forget me.
I can feel the tears start to well up in my eyes.
Stupid, leaky body.
I manage to pull myself out of my pathetic thought spiral and look up at Sedi. They're clicking their claws, trying to get a better look at me. They seem concerned, more concerned than disgusted, which is what I was expecting. I'm gross on a good day, with the whole squishy organ situation but it has not been a good day in a very long time.
"Grace alright, question?"
I just nod.
We stumble our way back to the dormitory, Sedi struggling with the smooth surface of the tunnel and me trying not to throw up in front of them. Rocky finds vomiting to be deeply horrific, and I'm fairly certain that's consistent across Eridians.
I slump back into my nook and Sedi sits back down beside me. It's cold. I pull the Good Luck Quilt around my shoulders and press against the xenonite. I'm probably going to have to start wearing multiple pairs of clothes just to keep warm with the loss of body fat.
…
"Rocky ok, question?"
Sedi thinks about it for a second, then chirps a yes at me.
"The medical team is working on them. They are stable. The engineer isn't awake yet, but that's likely a side effect of severe stress that was compounded by the injury. They're going to be ok."
Ok. Stable but not awake yet.
That's good. He had said he was fine but as much as he complains about me not taking care of myself, he's just as bad. In some ways, he's worse actually.
I start fidgeting with the cube Sedi gave me. I still can't tell what it does, maybe some kind of puzzle? With the switches and the bumps that look like part of the pattern but are really buttons, that would make sense.
Sedi notices me fidgeting with it and lets out a happy hum.
So I'm probably not breaking it then.
Usually, I'd be watching Rocky work on one of his projects around now.
He always has something to work on, recently being various models for my bio-dome and notes for Erid about both me and the solution for the stars. He also occasionally makes me little sculptures which I have scattered around the lab and dormitory. He does have a talent for working with xenonite and is dang good at making his models. Give him a reference and he can make just about anything.
He made me a harmonica a while back, in an attempt at figuring out what instrument I could play that would best resemble Eridian speech. We had tried a couple options before we landed on my keyboard, one of which was my harmonica.
Turns out the harmonica just sounds like vaguely speech like gibberish no matter how I played it. The equivalent of random vocalizing, like human vocal warm-ups apparently. Even my limited speech with my own vocal chords was better.
God, I'm tired.
Rocky's gone and I'm just floating around Erid and I should be so excited-
But I'm tired.
What if he's worse off than he thought? What if he has the Eridian version of cancer and we just didn't realize? What if now that he has other Eridians around, he forgets about me? What if Adrian hates me? What if the Eridians hate me?
What if Erid decides I'm not worth the trouble without Rocky awake to convince them?
I start tearing up.
Oh god, what if I die up here?
In space. Alone.
All they'd need to do is disconnect the space elevator and-
I'm hyperventilating, I realize, distantly.
Rocky cares about me. I know that. The other Eridians don't know me.
I'm an alien. A strange, gross, weak alien. God knows I couldn't promise Rocky safety on Earth, could he promise me it here? I'd be a waste of resources. The sun has been dimming, do they even have enough to spare? Rocky said that Erid had more time than Earth due to it's atmosphere but he could have been wrong.
He wouldn't lie to me but-
He could have been wrong.
My head is spinning. My vision is starting to go static at the edges.
I don't want to die. I don't want to go.
Please.
I don't-
I barely register the sound of music coming from beside me.
I do notice when Sedi bumps the front of their carapace into the glass next to my leg. It's warm.
They're singing again. Louder.
I haven't heard it before. Rocky has a song he likes to sing when he's trying to soothe me, but this one is different.
It's nice. It sounds a bit like rushing water, mixed with the sound of windchimes or crystals clinking together. It reminds me of the backing track for a mediocre yoga class I went to once and never returned to. This is nicer than that though.
"Slow." Sedi sings. "Breathe."
I suck in a quick breath.
"Good. Good job. Again."
Again. In and out.
My head stops spinning.
Sedi soothes me through my panic and between the panic attack and the utter exhaustion of the last few years, I end up passing out to the sound of windchimes.