Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Growing old sucked. It really, really sucked.

And not just in the way that your hair fades to gray, or your skin shrivels up like a raisin, or thinking to yourself, do kids these days not have school anymore? when you pass a teenager on the street, minding their business, in the middle of the day.

No, it wasn’t any of that, Grace had come to realize.

Erid’s gravity had tremendously sped up the process of his joints giving up on him. That, in and of itself, sucked enough. But what was really harrowing, more than his decaying health, more than becoming grumpy and nonsensical, was knowing he was but a blip in the minds of his family and friends on Erid.

He could make peace with his limited lifespan. He couldn’t, however, make peace with the fact their time with him was so very short when you put it on the timeline of their seven-hundred year (give or take) lifespan. He shivered whenever he tortured himself with the thoughts of Rocky and Adrian brushing over his memory without a thought in the next fifty, one-hundred years. He knew he would not make it even as a passing comment within the next two hundred.

He knew he was going to die surrounded by his mate, Adrian, and the flocks of other Eridians he regarded fondly over the years.

He knew Rocky, his mate, his reason, would die with his other mate. His real mate. They would die together, intertwined, as all mated Eridians do, without needing to revisit the memory of Grace.

Grace inhaled shakily. He sat on the same shoreline he had for the past twenty-six years, looking at the same, yet ever changing beach. A woven, noisy patterned blanket, courtesy of the Eridian Frodo, softly billowed from where it lay across the seat of his wheelchair next to him. The cold wind bit at his long since hollowed out cheeks, but he found the feeling invigorating. Anything to make him feel alive a little longer.

The water lapped at his sorry excuse for a pair of Converse. The cotton canvas was ripped in more places than it was held together, splotchy and darkened with decades of use, but Grace never really used the replacement shoes Rocky had whipped up for him. He tried his best to make use of, and preserve, his left over belongings from Earth.

He couldn’t confidently say he missed Earth, not anymore. He did for a long time. Much longer than the years he spent on the Hail Mary.

But…

It was different, now. Of course it was—how could it not be after spending over half your life on an alien planet? He frequently thought in Eridian more than English, dreamed of spindly legs and carapaces more than hooked noses and freckled skin. His kids weren’t really kids anymore, they were hatchlings that had been older than him by Earth measure when he first took up the one and only position of an extraterrestrial lifeform teacher. Erid was his home now. He thought, for a moment, that Erid became his home the second the Blip-A appeared on the Hail Mary’s radar all those years ago.

He absentmindedly fidgeted with the sand underneath him. While he could no longer support himself on his own legs anymore, he still valued the feeling of soil and Erid beneath him. He especially fancied when Rocky would pester and pester him to allow him to carry Grace on his carapace.

Look, he only needed to be pestered because of the one or two (or three…) times Rocky “accidentally” tripped and dropped him into the ocean.

Sighing, he skipped a pebble across the surface of a wave.

His time was dwindling. It always had been, but now, his sunset was approaching within a few months. Rocky and Adrian knew this, too.

It did not make it any less painful.

The Eridians, namely those closest to him, had spent the last couple of years talking over and finalizing with Grace how exactly he wanted the preparations for his funeral. Eridian culture held extremely intricate, gentle preparations and routines for departed Eridians. There were grand, carefully carved and decorated headstones for those who wished for simplicity. There were also opposite procedures—buildings erected from the ground to mainline the dead Eridian’s achievements or personality, glimmering chords reflected off the building to be played day in and day out to sing of the dead. Special jewelry and clothing were laid with said Eridian regardless of the decorations on the outside. It was to properly send them back into the soil to be reincarnated with the next hatchlings.

That was, arguably, the thing about Erid that Grace had never completely wrapped his head around. Back when they first met, he and Rocky had spent hours discussing their own biology to each other, and once they slowed down, discussed death, and sex, and other typically taboo topics for their respective lifeforms.

Akin to when Grace explained relativity and radiation to Rocky, Grace spent about three hours refusing to believe reincarnation was real and just a regular, everyday occurrence on Erid. All life on Erid reincarnated, even the non sentient life forms. Even if you were a bacteria, if you housed a single cell on Erid, you can bet you’ll end up as something like a beautiful lotus flower in the next.

According to Rocky, Eridians hadn’t fully solved the root of incarnation—religion, incomprehensible across the Universe, it would seem—but the functionality of it had been discovered and discussed thousands of years ago in Erid’s history. There had been the ongoing question of, why does my hatchling slightly resemble several departed Eridians and our pet Shadow Monster?, until it was realized that once in the ground, after several years and changing seasons, Erid would recycle lifeforms from the ground into new ones. Erid’s very own process of renewing matter, abiding by the rules of physics.

”There is just no freaking way,” Grace shook his head, arms crossed and ignoring Rocky.

“Grace grumpy for nothing,” Rocky huffed. “Is simple Eridian history. Not like learn, question? Want be ignorant, question?”

Grace rolled his eyes. “Jerk.”

“Earth really have no renew matter? Is fascinating. Why no crisis over this, question?”

“Oh,” Grace snorted, then laughed. Rocky trilled in confusion and it only made him laugh harder, gripping his sides.

“What funny, question?”

“Nothing,” Grace waved him off. “Nothing, uh, yeah, there’s totally no crisis over not knowing what comes after death on Earth. We’re all super cool about it.”

“Sarcasm.”

It was a melancholy memory and fact to reflect on. One he particularly enjoyed ruminating in, knowing that fate did not await him. He was not native to Erid. He was an outsider, a parasite. He would die as a human and drift into the abyss as a human. What awaited him after death remained a mystery.

He hadn’t realized he had begun crying until a fat teardrop landed on the hand holding his knees to his chest. Flinching, he wiped it away but did not raise a hand to wipe his face. It was gratifying to feel. His humanity was another part of Earth he kept with him. Eridians had emotions, absolutely, and he could read Rocky’s emotions with a simple glance, but he still struggled with others. The intricacy of social interaction was hard enough as is, but on an alien planet, where said aliens had no faces? Yeah, Grace surrendered to his social constipation and accepted Eridian emotion would likely never be readable to him.

Just another thing that divided him from his mate completely. Another trait that showed, despite his existence on Erid, inside a biodome personally tailored towards him with daily visitors from friends, he was utterly unlike his companions and planet. He was the one and only parasite from interstellar space to inhabit Erid.

His vocal chords did not even come close to the melodic flow of Eridian language. And he had tried. For years, he would attempt to mimic Eridian for so long he would lose his voice for days afterwards. And then he would try some more. He tried to modify Mongolian throat singing, tried to train the muscles in his stomach and chest to tense up in a way that could make his useless human voice come out as the intertwined notes of whalesong and clicks and trills and chitters that made up the Eridian language.

Rocky admonished him for prolonged periods of time whenever he caught on to what Grace had been up to. Stubborn human, he would tsk, English sound beautiful, too. Grace sound beautiful.

He huffed, now wiping his face clean of tears. Crying sessions tended to take a toll on him in his past years. His heart and lungs struggled to keep up with the strain that crying put on them. And he was a pretty pathetic crier, so it made sense.

“Grace!”

Grace craned his neck around with pleasant surprise. He hadn’t heard Rocky approaching at all, too absorbed in his wallowing. His face softened.

“Hey, Rock,” he sniffled.

Rocky’s xenonite suit glittered lightly in the artificial sunlight of the biodome. He tilted his carapace, upbeat trot slowing down upon closer sonar observation of Grace.

He inched nearer until he was flush against Grace. He settled his arms underneath him, saving one to run up and down Grace’s crossed legs. He “looked up” at Grace (Eridian body language for turning your attention to the person in front of you, he had learned).

“Grace crying,” Rocky stated. The secondary tones were low with concern. “Again. What need, question? Water temperature ill-fitting, food bland, question?”

Grace smoothed his hand over the top of Rocky’s suit, the heat exuding from it calming him somewhat. They both knew the reason for Grace’s depression, but they danced around the subject as always, as if it was some big mystery, a new health issue for the medical team to solve. “Nothing. I’m just an old man reminiscing as old men do.”

Rocky clicked, but he did not laugh.

“Rocky not like. Grace sad. So sad, sad, sad,” he warbled, lowering his carapace into himself, “every time Rocky see Grace. Please tell Rocky how to fix.”

“You don’t need to fix anything.”

“Want. Miss Grace—always miss Grace—miss happy Grace. Adrian, too. Rocky Adrian talk about how improve Grace quality of life many, many time. Never work.”

Grace looked away. “I know, bud,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.”

One of Rocky’s hands came up to card his claws through Grace’s hair. He closed his eyes when warmth encompassed the base of his skull, leaning into it. The waves rippled calmly.

“No need apology,” Rocky reassured, then, quietly, “Grace worry for life end, again.”

It wasn’t a question, and he didn’t need to hear Eridian grammar to know that. Rocky had seen him deteriorate over the years, but especially within the last one when his health took a turn for the worse. Even with the cane Adrian had personally crafted for him, he began needing additional assistance to walk to his classroom. And, eventually, was unable to walk anywhere on his own. It was then that it fully sank in.

Thanks to the detriment of his aging body increased tenfold by alien conditions he was not suited for, he was going to die, soon, and there was nothing he could do to extend his time. He became susceptible to falls, typically needing Rocky with him at all times on particularly bad days. His memory started to fail him, and he saw how much the memory of an elderly human frightened not just Rocky, but the Eridians as a whole. Precise memory was a key component in an Eridian’s life, having it fail you was borderline a myth, in a way. It was then that the Eridians treated him with such delicacy that he lashed out and damaged every object in his home—himself included—humiliated for being painfully pitiful.

And Rocky, of course, was there to pick up the pieces. He lightly teased him for his useless human brain, chittering about being the superior alien, before letting Grace scream and kick and cry himself to sleep with his face smushed against the xenonite suit. He shooed Grace’s medical team out for several days, monitoring Grace’s health himself and nurturing him back to normalcy with the occasional aid of a reprogrammed Armando. There were days Rocky had to feed Grace, Grace too low on strength and the will to live to move his arms. Something so taboo, so disgusting in Eridian culture, Rocky had done without hesitation.

The reminder made Grace’s lungs feel tight inside his chest.

“I don’t want you to forget me,” he admitted weakly.

Rocky bristled.

“Eridian memory perfect. Can’t forget.”

Grace’s bottom lip quivered and he lowered his head between his knees again.

“You know what I mean.”

“Rocky never forget Grace,” Rocky retorted, and they both declined to point out the mournful tunes sung under the facade of irritation. “Insult to assume! Grace think Rocky dumb like human. Hurt me!”

Grace didn’t lift his head. Banter required a lot of masking nowadays, and the energy Grace had for it became less frequent as time went on. Not that he didn’t want to, and he soaked in the insults Rocky threw at him, but he just wanted to be, to exist without the expectation of pretending nothing was wrong.

Suddenly, the claws in his hair pulled taut. Grace blinked in surprise as he was forced to look over to his mate.

“Dude, that’s low.”

Rocky chirped with humor.

“So fragile,” he said, and, look, losing more than half of your mobility damages a guy’s sex drive, so Grace chose to ignore the flush instantly pricking at his cheeks from the words.

“My Grace so fragile,” Rocky trailed off, loosening his grip and using his other hand to fidget anxiously at his side. “Rocky never, never, never forget kind, fragile, brave, Grace. Statement.”

“You will,” Grace inhaled sharply, moment broken. “I know you physically can’t, but, I’ve been a part of less than a quarter of your life.”

“Not matter. Rocky remember everything, short or long.”

“That’s not what I’m getting at.”

“Rocky can’t forget Grace.”

“I know!” he gritted out.

“No! You not know.”

“Yes, I do! You might miss me for a couple of years, but you’ll move on, and fast. Fast, because you’ll live longer than you knew me. So much-” his voice broke, “so much longer than when you knew me.”

He pulled away to tug at his hair himself.

Rocky skittered around him anxiously, carapace low when he tapped the sand to better hear Grace’s rapidly increasing heart rate.

“No! Enough! Rocky never forget Grace. Stop say that. Not when Grace still here, no past tense when Grace still here. Please.”

Grace shook his head. His chest stuttered over its own breathing.

“You… you will live many, many more years having moved past me. You’ll live and die without me. I won’t watch you grow old,” and now, speaking it aloud, Grace didn’t really care about the tears streaming down his cheeks again, too caught up in his downward spiral of misery.

His head was throbbing from pulling at his greyed hair.

“I won’t be there if you and Adrian decide to have hatchlings, I won’t watch my own students grow old, or witness the response from Earth, or-”

“Grace.”

“I won’t see Erid’s technical advances and how far you will progress past Earth,” he continued, fully bawling, “I won’t have a real Erid burial that marks me an equal, because I’m not Eridian-”

“Enough, Grace! Stop now! Do breathing exercise to calm heart!”

“I won’t be there to be laid to rest beside you when- when you and Adrian die-”

Rocky had him toppled over in an instant, trapping his sides and hovering over his chest.

“No more, no more!” Rocky wailed, “Rocky remember everything! Rocky remember first caregivers when Rocky was hatchling! Rocky remember first song though Rocky so little!”

Grace sobbed, ugly and unrestrained. He thrashed under his mate, pounding his fists against the xenonite suit, which he knew was nothing more than a light tap to Rocky. He was well and truly throwing a tantrum, but sue him, he had earned it. His heart was a rapid thump thump thump in his chest and his breathing came in wheezes, but he couldn’t stop. Not when he was unsure if he would wake up the next day, when he was going to miss out on the rest of his mate’s life.

“Rocky remember first caregiver- Luna. Luna with scary, sad crack in crust that was from leg to radiator.”

Grace paused, but only for a second, whimpering pathetically.

“Luna die when Rocky turn fifty-three Earth years. Rocky remember perfect, and Rocky visit their burial each week for mourn.”

Grace struggled to catch his breath and coughed around broken gasps, spit pooling in his mouth and running down his chin to mix with his tears. He felt like he was about to fall off Erid with how dizzy he was.

Rocky used a claw to gently caress Grace’s face, not caring about the tears as much as he cared about providing comfort.

He continued,

“Rocky remember when first meet Grace. Rocky scared, but so excite. Rocky disgust with leaky space blob who not see Rocky beyond walls.”

Grace shuddered something close to a laugh, sniffling and taking one of Rocky’s spare claws into his hand. He gripped it tight like Rocky would disappear otherwise.

“Grace so jumpy when first meet. Turn to flee when saw Rocky! Amaze. Grace hair on head soft, Rocky first thought. Captivate and soft, soft, soft.

“You wear clunky spacesuit and stumble. You play with spherical rubber when bored. You curl up when sleep like hatchling. You insist watch Rocky eat for first time. You show Rocky movie on thinking machine and cry, laugh, groan, even though is fiction. You talk to self.”

Rocky’s voice hummed with something bittersweet, “and you save Rocky.”

He relented a bit, backing up to give Grace room to breathe. He was still weeping, but it had turned into something silent and timid as he stared blearily at his best friend, his mate. His grip loosened slightly but he still had Rocky’s claws secure in his hands, stroking them absently.

“You saved me,” Grace mumbled, “time and time again.”

“Rocky love Grace. Always save Grace, and Grace always save Rocky. Grace save Erid and Earth. Brave Grace.”

He sniffled. Meltdowns took a real toll on him.

“Will never, for rest of life, forget Grace.” Rocky crooned.

Grace smiled shakily.

“We make quite a pair, don’t we?”

He brought Rocky’s claws to his mouth and kissed them wetly, murmuring a soft apology for being gross on his suit.

Rocky chirped in agreement and laid on Grace’s chest to his best ability, mostly propped up by his legs so as to not pancake Grace on the ground.

Grace wrapped his arms around him, wishing beyond the sky that he could feel him fully.

“Rocky not know…” Rocky started, now wiping the continuous flow of tears on Grace’s face, “Rocky not know how Rocky will survive mate Grace die.”

Grace traced the ridges of Rocky’s suit, the dips and valleys that were tight against his crust. If he closed his eyes, he was feeling Rocky’s jagged edges and cracks without the barrier of the suit.

“You have Adrian. We both know they’ll kill you if you die.”

“Adrian understand,,” Rocky replied, brushing over the attempt at humor, “well, Adrian never really understand Grace and Rocky, but, they almost die when Rocky gone many years. Adrian understand. ”

Grace hated the somber, broken undertones of Rocky’s voice. He hated that he had let himself spiral enough to hear them.

“No. You need Adrian as much as you need me. You’ll… you’ll figure it out.”

“Figure it out,” Rocky parroted flatly.

“Yeah, Rock. You’re brilliant and you’re strong. The strongest person I know. I’ve never seen you give up on anything before.”

“Would for mourn Grace. Would by choice, would by accident.”

“Don’t say that,” Grace whispered hoarsely, “please, don’t say that.”

“Rocky need Grace,” Rocky sang hushedly.

“I need you too. But I need you to keep living even more.”

Rocky pretended to mull this over.

Grace pretended to let him.

“Where is Adrian, anyways?”

Rocky grumbled, probably at the desperate attempt at change in subject.

“They are prepare gift for Grace.”

Grace raised a brow. “Gift? And I’m just now hearing about it? What gives?”

“Is surprise. Human tradition!”

Rocky trilled when Grace huffed a wet laugh.

“Human tradition. I get it.”

“Grace want walk with Rocky to meet Adrian, question?”

Grace nodded, “of course I do, pal-”

“Good! Rocky carry Grace now,” Rocky exclaimed, jumping up at once and lowering his carapace for Grace to climb on.

Grace groaned, clambering into an upright position and catching his breath. “You still haven’t told anyone I let you carry me, right?”

Rocky hummed.

Grace narrowed his eyes.

“Rocky?”

“Rocky tell no one. Protect Grace ego. Is not laughing matter, statement, ” he answered, innocently.

“Uh-huh,” he said, unconvinced. He pushed himself up with his arms to bring his trembling legs over Rocky. “It is absolutely not funny or embarrassing, so I don’t see why you would tell anyone.”

“Yes, yes. Rocky lip like seals…”

Grace gave him a light kick once atop. “They better be.”

Admittedly, he knew he was perceived similarly as a lost puppy to the Eridians. For the first couple of years on Erid, his biodome was the attraction of the century. Though the outside was pitch-black to Grace when he stuck his face against the wall to peer out, the Eridians observing him on the other side could hear him clear as day.

At first, he had vehemently forbade Rocky from allowing anyone but himself, Adrian, and Grace’s medical team to observe him. He was already so sickly and broken spirited upon arrival to Erid, the thought of having anyone but the few necessary people observing him made him queasy. He didn’t want an alien planet to think of humanity as gangly, squishy creatures that couldn’t walk two feet without expelling excrement out of their mouth hole.

“Grace will love present,” Rocky bragged, trotting along, “Adrian work very hard, very proud. Much trial and error and break things. But is okay, Rocky Adrian figure it out. Deft Rocky and artist Adrian.”

Grace whistled.

“Oh, yeah? You’re not one to toot your own horn, don’t get my hopes up too high, now. What if my heart gives out while I’m on top of you?”

Rocky chittered, laughing, “we very mad at waste of gift, then. Kill you for die! And Rocky no have horn to toot.”

Grace chuckled, attempting a laugh, but it seems his energy was drained for the time being. He tried to not make it too obvious.

After the painstakingly long first year of Grace’s life on Erid, he slowly started to recover. His medical team, along with a plethora of science Eridians, had almost fully perfected cloning Grace’s muscle tissue to create meat that was safe and chock-full of the nutrients Grace had been severely lacking. From then on, his health and general mood perked up day by day instead of the previous week by week. He became more thoughtful in allowing the general public of Erid to observe him, sure they were leg-over-carapace to see, up close, the alien that had saved their planet and now took up a stretch of land nearby their science center, housed in what was essentially a zoo. He often thought about his own students during this time, knowing their youthful eagerness to learn would have won Grace over in showing them the scary space monster.

So, he agreed to it. He agreed to a one way wall outside of the biodome (well, one way due to Grace lacking sonar ability in any regard), where the Eridians desperate to know about the new lifeform on their planet could observe and learn about him. It bordered on exhibitionism, but, hey, Rocky assured him that his house was entirely soundproof and could not be seen inside by any prying ears. He wasn’t interested in skimping out on their frequent intimacy.

He sighed, relaxing onto the claws that always kept him carefully steady, gently supporting his lower back and brushing under his shirt every now and then. He and Rocky had tried to work out a position where he could be supported by two of Rocky’s hands, but it ended up with Rocky awkwardly stumbling as he walked, tripping over the sand inelegantly and causing Grace’s aches to bloom into pain.

He sat criss crossed, albeit a tad awkward, comfortable but constantly aching. Any amount of movement caused him to creak and groan these days and he, yet again, cursed himself and his inadequate, susceptible-to-otherworldly-conditions body.

It was as if he was regressing. He felt a lot like he did those last years on the trip back to Erid and the first years on the ground. Becoming bedbound for weeks at a time, or taking a leave of absence from his class led to prolonged periods of Grace stuck with his thoughts. That never ended well, and the dawning fear of being forgotten was one that only intensified the closer his death creeped upon him, a looming shadow that flitted about in his peripherals.

“Adrian is wait in airlock,,” Rocky informed him as they approached the massive airlock on the edge of the dome. “You excite? Rocky much excite.”

“Grace much excite,” he confirmed, inhaling deeply to absorb the smell of saltwater.

“Good, good. Grace rest after present. Is for tomorrow.”

Grace hummed inquisitively but submitted to his patience.

Rocky lowered himself to the ground, gently laying Grace atop the sand covered stone spreading out from the entryway. Grace scooched until he was sat against the wall for support, peering over to watch Rocky unlock the door with a whoosh.

“Adrian!” Rocky whistled happily, “Grace is here. You come out with present, question?”

Grace grinned when he heard Adrian’s unmistakably graceful voice drone back,

“My love. Yes, yes, is ready. I come out.”

Rocky hopped around in excitement and Grace let himself laugh. He hadn’t seen him so excited in a while. Whatever it was that he and Adrian had cooked up, it must’ve been important.

Adrian stepped out of the airlock, tapping, zoning in on Grace with a cheerful squeak.

“Hello, Friend Grace! You are healthy today?”

“Hi, Adrian! Uh- yeah, uh, I’m alright today, as far as everything goes.”

Rocky, thankfully, did not correct his blatant lie, still jumping around a few feet away, though Grace knew he was paying attention to them.

His smile pulled against his cheeks when Adrian clambered over to press their carapace, clad in xenonite, against his forehead, a common but not entirely universal Eridian greeting for close friends.

“Excellent. As you know, tomorrow is annual migration of Lacerta across ocean. Big, big festival.”

“Right! Rocky won’t shut up about it.”

Rocky paused his joyful movements to flick a clawful of sand in their direction.

‘Lacerta’ was Grace’s name for one of many Erid species he had learned about. They looked strikingly similar to lizards back on Earth, but obviously functioned completely differently. They were gentle, friendly omnivores that lived off a diet consistent with oceanic plants and algae. Lacertas were one of the few pack animals to make a spectacle out of their migration cycle, so the Eridians had formed a long since upheld tradition of celebrating said migration. Though, now, Grace was sure they used it as an excuse to mingle and decorate grand, ceremonial structures. Grace had managed to pop into a few festivals—even ones outside of the Lacerta migration—but always retired early, too clumsy and claustrophobic in his own ill-suited xenonite suit.

Hold on…

“What, exactly, is the nature of this present?”

Adrian chirped and clicked excitedly, presumably aware of Grace’s brain fog dissipating long enough to catch on. They scuttled back into the airlock before dragging out a Grace-sized suit that fell over their carapace, flexible. It wasn’t rough and impervious like his other xenonite body suit that restricted his movement almost entirely. It freaking moved. It folded and bent over Adrian, and Grace almost started bawling again. He could wear this without needing to stand.

“Oh, shucks, you two,” Grace said shakily, his cheeks legitimately hurting now from how hard he was smiling, “is that what I think it is?”

Rocky jumped so high Grace was afraid he’d concuss himself on the top of the dome thousands of feet in the air. Adrian sang enthusiastically, rapidly mimicking a human nod.

“Is comfortable suit for Friend Grace!”

“Now we three attend festival, all day!” Rocky cheered, like this was a bigger deal than Grace turning his ship around to give up his life to save him and Erid.

“This is…” Grace began, speechless after Adrian handed him the suit and he was able to feel it himself. It was unequivocally xenonite material, Grace had been around enough xenonite based creations to know that, but there was something else that allowed it to bend over his fingers the way it did.

It was also jaw droppingly gorgeous.

The material around the wrists were embedded diagonally with vibrant gemstones that followed a uniform pattern, much to Grace’s surprise. The Eridians were never ones to produce evenly colored items, or consistent vivids in general, considering the whole blind thing. Expensive, prided jewelry chains hung from the shoulders down to the elbows, clinking softly when Grace turned it over. The head carried the load of the heaviness, and upon closer inspection, he realized the weight was due to the built in lights above where his forehead would be. The palms of the suit had sleek, onyx adjacent buttons on the three dominant fingertips that Grace had assumed was for decoration, but he realized they modified the lights in various ways upon pressing them. He marveled at the light spectrums that poured out of the headpiece, laughing breathlessly at the changing sand he aimed it at.

“You added a light for me,” he whispered.

“So Grace can see Erid surface, surrounding, friends, without hold light,” Rocky confirmed.

Grace inhaled sharply.

The same jewelry that cascaded down the shoulder pieces was also splayed out along the neckline. It was staggeringly pretty.

He looked up at the two, who waited in front of him expectantly. Rocky was jittering with excitement, still, but Adrian’s demeanor became calm, as always.

“This is the greatest thing I’ve ever gotten,” Grace wiped a tear, massively opposed to a repeat of earlier, “thank you. Thank you both.”

Rocky exploded into song, asking, you like? Grace like? while he rolled around. Adrian chuffed at the display.

“Was very expense and impossible,” they admitted, “is why take long, long, long time.”

“I can tell. I don’t even want to know how you made it. It’s incredibly impressive. I- I don’t really have words.”

“Adrian create accessory for Grace. Many study for human color! Adrian amaze… Rocky want hatchlings.”

“O-kay, you horny little bastard, I can see that,” Grace snickered, “you outdid yourself, Adrian. You, too Rock. Thank you.”

Adrian simply inclined their carapace. They and Grace both ignored Rocky’s continuous flurry of excitement.

Grace took a deep breath, quelling his eyes to not water any longer, and smiled.

“What time are we going?”

Chapter Text

Erid housed a perpetual, steady facet atop its lightless surface: constant. fucking. noise.

Yes, he said it. Constant fucking noise!

Grace considered himself the luckiest man on Erid whenever the opportunity arose for him to leave his biodome, he truly did. The chances were few and far between, what with Grace’s dwindling health and susceptibility to fatigue and overstimulation—more so than when he was young and healthy, which was saying something. His regular xenonite suit underwent several tweaks and adjustments purely for comfort and additional support, but it was never modified into something Grace could walk in for long without mobility issues.

This suit was otherworldly.

The sounds of Erid rose and fell in a cacophony of consonance so intense Grace felt it in his throat. He was half convinced his brain was legitimately vibrating inside his skull. Hundreds of five-legged, three-clawed Eridians scampered around beneath and beside him, continuous sonar taps drumming out beneath their clawprints that piled onto the noise like another language. Many groups and clusters of Eridians who gathered together conversed with such resonant ease that Grace was looking around for whoever had to have installed speakers every four feet that blasted bass boosted whalesong. Eridians donned in celebrative jewelry not so different from Grace’s own clinked and chimed as they hobbled to and fro. The waves riding into shore from the nearby ocean were placid—a strikingly tranquil contrast to the buzzing of Erid socialization. It was… a lot.

Not to mention the sights.

While he had seen Erid’s surface plenty of times, his field of vision was severely limited each of those times due to the flashlights he brought along lacking proper luminance, preventing Grace from seeing more than a foot in front of him. His peripheral vision was always entirely dark. It was extremely unnerving.

Now, however, he could see everything. The lumens from his personalized lights would have made a human go blind under Earth conditions, but on Erid, it allowed him to properly see his surroundings, even the previous blind spots of his peripherals.

The Eridian cluster that inhabited the beachside was deemed the Maredume cluster, courtesy of Grace and his left-sided brain. Mare, contrived from a latin word for water, and calidum, another latin word for heat. Hot oceans. Grace was a visionary.

Jobs in the Maredume cluster consisted of water irrigation for the small portion of Erid’s resources that were powered by their boiling seas (the majority of it being astrophage breeder farms, which had since been utilized for Eridian technology and everyday life), aquatic-esque keepsake production, and various other occupations reflective of their region. The Maredume cluster was situated all throughout the shoreline and often played welcoming hosts for traveling Eridians.

It was a tourist town, in short.

Today, their cobbly, twisting streets were littered with market stalls set up underneath ropes of banners strung from house to house and twines of beaded shells dangling in honor of the lactera migration. Several raised murals carved into polished stone tablets were constructed and placed around the cluster. Some sat on display atop stalls, others tripling in size and placed on the sides of buildings. The murals told stories of lactera evolution and their yearly crossing of the sea, etchings of animalistic honor preserved in stone.

In respect to their sonar, the cities of Erid were a jumble of raised, layered architecture and surfaces. It was quite hard on the eyes when it came to color, but was more than visually appealing engineering wise. Grace couldn’t get enough of it. Adrian particularly fancied visiting the Maredume cluster, enchanted by their widely praised artistic ability.

Adrian and Rocky were happily trotting along beside him, singing to each other and Grace about the turn out for the festival. Fortunately, Grace woke up on a good day, with the strength to push his wheelchair on his own, so his mate and friend gestured animatedly when they spoke. He was relieved at the freedom to half wander, half sneak away from his mate and friend whenever they became a bit too absorbed in a conversation with one of their mutual friends. When the sounds around him grew too overstimulating to bear, Grace would switch the light spectrum to the lowest spectrum possible and breathe easier. It was a challenge to be an auditory and sight based lifeform on a planet inhabited by solely auditory based lifeforms.

Right now, they were catching up with the Eridian, Artemis, a philosophy scholar Grace had the pleasure of speaking to a handful of times during the process of initiating Grace into his old teaching position. Rocky was chittering in that high-low-low-high way he always did, nodding his carapace and shrugging his joints in a painfully human manner. Rocky had long since adapted human behaviors, and Grace Eridian behaviors. They had become a mirror of each other so naturally that Grace wondered how he had lived his life missing a part of himself. Grace had his own Eridian habits—tapping a surface with a foot or a hand to punctuate a question, or repeating a word thrice over to emphasize impact, something he had learned was specific to the region from which Rocky was native to. He supposed he shouldn’t have been too surprised to learn of the differing habits across regions, even if it was on an alien planet.

“Rocky spend years and years for craft suit,” he said, proudly, and Grace flushed under the attention that was turned to him and his stellar suit. Rocky reached out to intertwine their fingers. “Eventually figure out. Then Adrian study color for Grace eye.”

“Very interest!” Artemis shrieked, and wow, Grace forgot how loud they were, “much wish Artemis see color like human. Human poetry amaze with color.”

That was an entire other thing and one of the reasons Artemis spoke with Grace in the first place—Earth’s literary treasures. Once the most dire information about Earth was sorted through by the leading scientists and doctors of Erid, topics like art and history were allowed to be accessed and researched by their respective scholar clusters. Artemis, being the lead of a major philosophical cluster, delved into the available information as soon as they got their claws on it. Decades had been spent on decoding written human art, and they had barely scratched the surface.

“That’s quite an unpopular opinion,” Grace joked. Adrian groaned.

“Ah, ungrateful human. Art is foundation of love. Foundation of life.”

“So is science!”

Artemis waved him off, “science make you Savior. Art make you memorable.”

“Maybe, but art literally couldn’t exist in the first place without science, don’t you think?”

“Science is art. Understand science through art, this is only way first. Then can understand science through science,” Artemis crackled, high pitched and grating.

Grace thought for a moment.

“But the components that make up matter and energy come first. You can’t make any kind of art without chemistry or biology as your building blocks.”

Rocky released Grace’s hand to facepalm with his two main hands (just to really emphasize it) and Adrian shook their carapace. Grace was in his I Need To Be Right mood, and Artemis excelled at challenging him.

Artemis tapped the ground, amused.

“Hm. Is true, Artemis concede.”

Grace puffed out his chest, “science will always be the-”

“How Grace come to this conclusion without art?”

“Well, I-” Grace scoffed, pausing. “Uh…”

“Art is thought. Art is love, words, feeling.”

They got him there, a bit.

“Is okay,” Artemis laughed, “only jest. Artemis not understand big science like Savior Grace. Grace not understand art. Difference good.”

Grace squawked, aiming to defend himself before Adrian smacked his arm. He was in the presence of a professional, he better act like it. Rocky snickered, and Grace could practically hear him say, ooh, Grace in trouble.

“Apology. Cultural difference. Friend Grace love debate,” Adrian interrupted, “she and many human.”

Grace blushed furiously at both the honorific and Adrian chastising him like a pebble. Under any other circumstance, Grace would be enraged at what Adrian said, would’ve directed his oppositional attitude towards them tenfold. But Grace had spent decades around Adrian and knew they deeply valued respect and modesty in society. They really meant nothing by it and were not attempting to deface Grace’s character, much less while networking with a philosopher. Grace found it sort of endearing, actually.

The honorifics, shockingly enough, didn’t take much adjusting to. Savior Grace, sure, but the feminine pronouns used to address Grace caught him off guard for only a short time when he first integrated into Eridian society. Because the Eridians did not function under any strict hierarchy from gender (re: hermaphrodites), their honorifics came from status, instead, and the highest status was one that translated easiest into feminine human pronouns—and with Grace harboring a very high status as the alien who saved their planet, he was addressed with the utmost respect. Strangely, Grace didn’t mind the change in pronouns.

“Ah, Adrian, Old Friend, must relent! Is only piece to think on,” Artemis replied, swinging an arm over Adrian’s exceedingly high carapace. Grace’s head was beginning to throb a smidge and his skin prickled with an early warning of overstimulation. Artemis tended to exude extremely loud notes throughout their speech, the tertiary tone overshadowing the others with chords akin to birdsong.

…dying birdsong.

Grace would take that thought to the grave.

“Grace need manners,” Adrian stated, and Rocky squeaked humorously again. “Is great piece. How Artemis project coming along, question?”

Grace smiled to himself as Adrian and Artemis delved into a rapid, droning discussion on Artemis’ latest work, which to Grace’s knowledge, was a study on how living with aliens missing a key component for socialization (faces, in humans’ case) impacted one’s ability to navigate themselves and the world. There were numerous studies already published about the psychology of interstellar travel with an alien, as the first ones to be written were required to consult Grace. Still, he felt honored, and he knew Artemis was taking extensive human philosophy research into account. They were exceedingly fascinated with learning their field of study from an extraterrestrial lifeform’s perspective.

Grace flexed his trembling fingers in his lap. He glanced over to Rocky, who had joined in the conversation with his mate and Artemis. Grace caught onto bits and pieces of him explaining his latest engineering conquest. His smile widened, slightly, until the droning song of their conversation began to make his ears ring and vision blur.

Time to wander off.

He knew, once three or more Eridians were in active discussion, it was a lot easier to inconspicuously remove yourself from the area. It was a bit like a human’s line of sight; it could only process so much information at a time. But, not really, considering the scale of an Eridian’s ability to store and process information. He supposed it was more the slight hypnotism from active conversation that led to decreased awareness. All three Eridians could still see him perfectly fine, but since they were incredibly engrossed in their conversation, they would hardly notice the missing piece until a few minutes later, which would give Grace time to regulate himself enough to resume socializing.

He pushed his wheelchair down the road, waving with all the enthusiasm he could muster to the passing Eridians. Most of them were heading to the shoreline in anticipation of the migration, but stopped to greet him, flurries of, hello, Savior Grace! You are healthy today, Savior Grace?, thundering into his eardrums. Grace knew there was still a while to go until the migration, though, so he continued down his path until the road split off onto another part of the beach.

Once he situated himself in a secluded spot, behind a row of buildings, he heaved a sigh of relief, breathless, and let his arms go limp at his sides. It seemed he’d been in and out of sensory overload the entire morning—chatting with several Eridian friends, passing by choirs of music, tangling in hanging decorations, and breathing in his own recycled breath took a toll. He was exhausted, already. He wasn’t entirely sure how he would make it through the rest of the day, even in the short measure of what an Eridian day was.

“Art is science,” Grace muttered to no one but himself, lazily stroking the confines of his suit with his fingertips. He slumped against the back of his wheelchair. “Art is love. Love is art.”

He thought he understood that, now. He thought he had understood that for a while.

Grace used to think he was in love with silence and isolation. He never really could form a solid bond with anyone on Earth, be it friend or lover. He was too reserved, too scared to let anyone peek beneath his facade of arrogance and avoidance that kept him safe. The closest relationship he had was with Stratt. And, as it was for his entire life, he did not come first in that relationship.

He wasn’t bitter about it anymore. He was, for a good, long while. But she was loyal to her mother—to Earth, as all humans should’ve been. Stratt was in love with Earth, and Grace was left unable to conceptualize loving anything beyond his resentments and layers upon layers of walls constructed to keep love, a dangerous and risky thing, out.

He didn’t imagine he was wrong the entire time.

Rocky always made noise. During their five year journey back to Erid, Grace fell in love with sound.

Rocky constantly moved. He could be situated comfortably in his ball, but his claws would be tinkering away with tools, repairing some broken object or ship part. He would quietly work on things while Grace slept, growing into a familiar white noise that lulled Grace to sleep quite fast.

Even when he wasn’t working on things, he was thinking. It seemed pretty difficult to not think, when your brain was as complex as an Eridian’s. And when Rocky thought, he subconsciously trilled and squeaked in subdued melodies. Grace was certain Rocky wasn’t even aware he did it, but Grace sought too much comfort from his voice to tell him.

Grace watched the tide calmly brush against the shore and was struck by a memory from one of the many movie nights aboard the Hail Mary on the journey to Erid.

They had eventually made it to binge-watching famous trilogies, and currently, they were on the last of the Star Wars prequels. Rocky was yelling in protest as if Grace was the one to blame for the on-screen dramatics.

“Rocky not understand why Jedi Anakin leave Padme!” Rocky squealed, “Rocky not understand why Jedi Anakin hurt Padme and leave her all alone.”

Grace pressed the spacebar to pause the movie.

“Bud, he’s not a jedi anymore, remember? He went to the dark side.”

Rocky grumbled.

“But Anakin love Padme. Why Anakin harm Padme? Rocky need to know. Padme want help Anakin, but Anakin refuse.”

Grace laughed lightly, searching for words. “It, uh. Well, he still loved her very much. But he also loved his power and he was basically turned against her by his power. He didn’t understand, either, that he was hurting her.”

“Anakin choke Padme,” Rocky objected, unconvinced. “How not understand?”

“Right, he did that—not cool, by the way—but he lost himself and was sure everyone was against him, including her.”

“Dumb. Suck. Star War bad. Rocky not like. Jedi Anakin not logical. Illogic common in humans, question?”

Grace knew Rocky was extremely invested in the movie based on his immediate need to point out the flaws. He chuckled, “unfortunately. We don’t like to understand objectives when it comes to love.”

“Grace illogic with love, question?”

Grace spluttered.

“What? No. I’m very logical. I’m just saying a lot of other humans are dumb about love.”

He suddenly found the ceiling extremely interesting when Rocky reached up and poked his face. Before Rocky could collaborate with Eridian scientists and engineers to assemble his current xenonite suit, he wore a crudely crafted one he was able to make aboard the Hail Mary. His xenonite ball worked just fine, the only reason for the carapace-tight suit being the desire for closer proximity to Grace.

It only took a little bit of begging from Grace’s part.

“Grace choke Rocky?”

“Woah!” Grace exclaimed, whipping back down to face him. “That’s- uh, very forward of you. I had no idea you were into that. I guess I could-”

Rocky brushed a claw against Grace’s cheek, confused, “Grace hurt Rocky?”

And, admittedly, Grace knew that was what he was asking in the first place, but facing vulnerability was something Grace was massively allergic to, even with Rocky and their incessant proximity aboard Mary.

“No. Never, Rocky.”

Rocky purred, satisfied. He curled up against Grace’s side, unpausing the movie.

Grace hoped he had been true to his words back then. He closed his eyes and relaxed into the mild seabreeze that brushed through his hair. He supposed, indirectly, there were plenty of instances he had hurt Rocky. When he eventually ran out of coma slurry and was forced to live off taumoeba until Erid could synthesize food safe for him was likely the first time. He stumbled onto death’s door more often than he departed it, and Rocky became stuck to his side like adhesive. He and Armando teamed up against Grace to constantly fuss over his health. On more than one occasion, Grace awoke to Rocky screaming above him in the infirmary, thinking he had succumbed to illness before they even made it to Erid.

It all seemed like so long ago, like another life. Yet, the past had a way of creeping up onto him until eventually, he became consumed by it. He worried all he did anymore was tether himself down to the past.

He sighed and blinked harshly. Count on him to ruin the moment, even in his own thoughts.

“Grace?”

A smile pulled on Grace’s lips.

“You gotta cut back on creeping up behind me.”

He didn’t need to turn around before Rocky was crawling next to him, chittering.

“Why you leave? Bad.”

“I needed some air.”

“Plenty air in new suit,” Rocky snarked, plopping down in the sand at Grace’s feet. “Grace is brat.”

Grace snorted.

“You’ve never complained before.”

Rocky bumped his carapace against the leg of Grace’s suit.

“Mm. Is true. Rocky like challenge.”

They fell silent for a moment, simply enjoying each other’s company and the waves that stretched on endlessly in front of them.

“Rocky very happy Grace here,” Rocky spoke eventually. “Grace look alive outside biodome. Rocky miss this Grace.”

Grace fidgeted with the arms of his wheelchair.

“I feel alive. I could kind of put the pieces together on Erid’s environment before, but, seeing it fully is different,” he confessed, “It’s home. It’s our home, I just… I really wish I could breathe the air and feel the ground under me.”

“Understand. Rocky want to be able feel human atmosphere—safely,” he shivered, recalling how it felt the first time, “feel Grace hair and touch fragile skin.”

Grace sniffled.

“I’m all wrinkly, now. Probably wouldn’t feel very nice.”

Rocky squeaked in disagreement. “Rocky not care about wrinkly. Want all of Grace, now and then. Always.”

Tears pricked at his waterline. Rocky had grown into a big old sap, just like Grace.

“I love you.”

Rocky’s voice wavered, “Rocky love Grace, too. My Grace.”

Grace smiled softly. He returned his gaze to the ocean. It appeared infinitely more magnetic than before, and he absorbed the sound of crashing waves for another moment.

“It’s almost time, isn’t it?” Grace asked. Then, “push my chair for me?”

Rocky clicked and circled around to the back of his wheelchair. “Ugh. Lazy human! Yes, Rocky push chair for free.”

Grace rolled his eyes and let himself be wheeled back into town. Adrian waited at the edge of the street where stone met sand, and waved them over. Grace flicked his lights back to the highest spectrum and greeted them tiredly. The streets were nearly empty, now, everyone gathered at the other side of the beach to observe the migration.

“Scholar Artemis mingle with more friend,” Rocky told him quietly, knowingly. “Is only us, now. Rocky Adrian stab Eridians if bother Grace.”

Grace huffed, relieved.

“Thanks, bud. I think stabbing would be a little over the top, though.”

“Is necessary,” Rocky insisted, whistling like a tea kettle when Adrian scolded him.

“Who’s in trouble now?” Grace teased, coughing around the words. He tasted copper, faintly. He hoped Rocky didn’t point out the blood bubbling in his throat—futile, knowing his mate saw it immediately.

Rocky spared him, anyway.

“Grace will love tiny animals. Look like Earth animal named lizard,” Rocky directed the last bit to Adrian.

Adrian trilled, “yes, yes. Rocky tell this plenty of time.”

If Rocky could blush, Grace knew he was doing so. Grace giggled when Rocky picked up his pace, embarrassed. His wheelchair dipped and rattled into the cracks of the street. “Watch it there, Turbo.”

“Must hurry or we miss migration.”

Grace bit the inside of his cheek, grinning.

The area of the beach that dipped off from the main roads appeared back into view and Grace’s eyes widened.

The lactera were absolutely swarming the beach, heading towards the water and corralling their young. The Eridians watching from afar buzzed with interest and the lactera squeaked back curiously, creating an atmosphere that seemed as if all of Erid’s life breathed and coexisted with one another. A handful of wildlife experts stood watch over the creatures, sparse throughout the huddles to ensure none strayed. Similar to Earth, these experts were simply there for public observation and to prevent a hatchling having to witness some poor lactera get left behind. Natural selection was very much allowed to play out on Erid without intervention, but not as often during a spectacle such as this.

Rocky parked his wheelchair in a comfortable spot near the beachline. He warbled and wrapped an arm around Grace’s leg, another dragging Adrian in close at Grace’s feet. Adrian rested against Grace’s other leg, the top of their carapace higher than Grace’s knees.

“Happy, happy, happy Grace get to attend festival,” he purred, “is never same without both mate. Rocky is complete.”

Longing and fondness swelled inside of Grace’s chest cavity, threatening to burst.

“Same here, Rock. What a treat this is.”

He had long since committed Rocky’s cracks and grooves into memory, but he found himself tracing them once more. His mate breathed steadily and fidgeted with sand beneath him, never able to sit still. Adrian, at his side, sat strong and focused. Grace stared down at them, so enthralled by the sight that he missed the initial waves of lactera dipping into the ocean until the eruption of cheers from the crowd died down.

Groggily, he looked up. The Eridians around him were dancing and singing in harmony ceremoniously, another successful year, they said, safe and successful!. After the frontmost line of lactera had made it into the sea, the rest joined in tandem.

Grace cheered them on silently. His throat felt thick and hoarse.

His gaze wandered back to Rocky.

“Very amaze!” Rocky proclaimed, excited. He drummed his claws against Grace’s leg gently. “What think, Grace?”

Grace couldn’t look away. He’d never seen such a sight before.

His eyes crinkled at the corners.

“I think it’s beautiful.”

By the time Grace returned to his biodome, the day-night light cycle had dimmed into the end of a sunset. Rocky and Adrian were at his side as he crashed into bed, exhausted.

“I’m wiped,” Grace groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. “That was amazing.”

Adrian chirped in agreement and Rocky crawled into Grace’s bed to loaf at his side. “Grace enjoy today, question?”

Grace smiled, moving his arm to rest around Rocky’s form. “I really, really enjoyed it. Thank you both.”

Adrian situated themself on Grace’s couch. All of Grace’s furniture was reinforced and bolted to the ground in order to support Eridian (mainly Rocky’s) weight. It was high quality stuff.

“Friends much satisfy to see Savior Grace outside biodome, Adrian said, “say this festival remarkable because of Savior Grace appearance.”

Grace flushed. “I’m sure there’s been crazy festivals before. I really liked seeing everyone, though.”

Rocky brought the blankets over Grace’s shoulders when he began to shiver.

“Movie night, question?”

Grace nodded. He felt sluggish.

“Movie, night, statement. Adrian, you wanna get up here?”

Adrian’s arms shifted underneath them. “No, thank. Adrian comfortable on couch.”

Grace tried to ignore the sting of rejection and instead switched the TV on. Next to it, there was a massive translator screen that took the input from the TV and outputted it into a moving, raised screen that allowed Rocky to ‘watch’ movies.

He turned on The Matrix and lie back against the pillows, sighing. His joints were aching something fierce and he still couldn’t kick the cough that itched against his throat.

He yawned, unable to shake the haze settling over his thoughts. He must’ve taken his painkiller dose early.

Rocky shifted. Grace could tell he was turning more of his attention to him.

“Grace sleep, question? Rocky Adrian watch.”

“No, I can’t. Crap, we have to check on the breeder tanks of Taumeoba-23,” Grace sat up, abruptly, “it’s been long enough for them to build resistance for the new generation.”

Rocky paused, clicking quietly.

“Is… is okay. Rocky will check breeder tanks.”

Grace frowned. “I’d like to be there. Are you sure? I’m sorry, I’m not used to being this tired all of the time.”

Rocky reached up to card his claws through Grace’s hair. Grace melted into the touch, closing his eyes.

“Yes. Grace need sleep before science or else mistake.”

Grace whined, “are you still mad about the samples I left out by mistake?”

Rocky used a spare hand to placate Adrian, who had since got up from the couch. They remained silent.

“Yes. Human thoughtless, foolish,” Rocky chided, “but is forgiven. Rocky only want Grace to rest, now.”

Grace hummed, pushing his head into Rocky’s claws. “I guess ‘s okay if you check without me. Hey, before you go, can you… tell me a little about Erid?”

“Rocky love to! Erid full with life. Many commune across Erid. Rocky miss home, old cluster. Adrian from same place. Rocky Adrian grow from pebble together.”

Grace’s breathing began to even out. “You miss Adrian a lot, don’t you?”

With a spare arm, Rocky clasped Adrian’s claws in his own with a death grip, trembling. Adrian cooed at him, an attempt for comfort.

“Yes. Very, very, much.”

Grace’s cheek twitched.

“I’m going to miss you…” he trailed off, subdued. He didn’t say anything for a beat.

Then, he took a breath, as if he was waking up, but his eyes remained closed.

“Wish- I wish I could come back to Erid with you,” he murmured. His arm went limp at his side. “You’re my best friend, Rock. I’ll miss you so much.”

Rocky released Adrian to scoot closer into Grace’s side. He gently laid an arm across Grace’s stomach. He was always so gentle with Grace, terrified he would break.

Grace was sound asleep before Rocky could respond. Rocky could hear how Grace’s body had slowed down in the distinct way it did whenever he slept. His lungs crackled oddly inside of his chest and the blood flowing to his heart slowed irregularly, an effect of the passing years weighing on his body. That was Grace’s baseline, now.

“Grace is Rocky best friend, also. Grace is everything.”

It fell on deaf ears, he knew this. Still, he began to sing.

It wasn’t exactly words. There were dozens of meanings and sentences falling and rising within each other. There was no direction with it, no human ears to receive the meanings that cried out, begging for more time.

It was a one man choir of grief unheard by what was soon to be mourned.

When the artificial moonlight began creeping across the sky of the biodome, Rocky had surrendered to sleep beside his mate.

Adrian shouldered the burden of Rocky’s eulogy.

They did not cry or stutter. They did not hesitate or fall silent. They sang until they couldn’t any longer, and they watched over the human and Eridian whose hearts beat as one.