Chapter Text
I’ve been up for…29 hours? 30? I check the clock. The numbers blur into the Eridian counterparts I’ve glued beside them as my dry eyes lose focus on anything that’s not in my immediate vicinity. In other words, I can’t tell what time it is. But my body has officially reached the point of exhaustion I can’t ignore.
Honestly, I’m surprised my roommate hasn’t come to yell at me yet about it. He keeps impeccable time and will almost always usher me to bed when I inevitably fall victim to a terrible, sun-less circadian rhythm. As a species that lives on the surface of a planet where no sunlight touches, Rocky can’t imagine why it’s so hard for me to figure out when to sleep. I’ve explained it before, but he still finds it a bad excuse when I have things like timers and alarms.
Actually, now that I think of it, I haven’t heard from Rocky in a while. That’s fine, we don’t need to be together all the time. In such close quarters, some separation is important. I shift my headphones to free an ear and listen very closely. Finally, I hear distant scuttling and tapping and take a small sigh of relief. He’s fine, I’m just being paranoid. Separation is important.
Besides, I had a different friend for the time being: the one and only Phil Collins. I replaced the headphones and turned back to the work in front of me.
I had time to kill like no one’s business and nothing but the empty sounds of the ship, vast space, and an engineer’s endless tinkering to listen to. Thankfully, Stratt decided to provide the Hail Mary with all the combined knowledge of Earth, meaning I had lots and lots of music to cycle through. Like any good scientist, I followed a specific order to ensure I was as thorough as possible. So what if alphabetical order isn’t the most creative? It provided a decent variation from one artist to the next.
Having always been a sucker for classic 80s music, I was particularly excited about the recent selection. The synth just brought such a fun flare to the melody, I couldn’t help but bop my head along with it. Rocky had actually asked me if I was sick the first time he saw me dancing. I was quietly jamming to music playing through headphones in my bunk as I tried to fall asleep and it gave quite the wrong message. I can hardly blame him, though. Having my eyes closed, being unresponsive and wiggling in an unnatural fashion is, understandably, concerning to someone with no prior frame of reference.
We’d talked about Earth’s and Erid’s differences a lot and the idea of music had definitely come up before. It’s always an interesting topic on a surface level, but it’s one of those things where the more I try to explain human customs, the more confusing it becomes to Rocky. The same goes for every time he tries to explain Eridian culture to me, too.
At least I have a massive database to choose all sorts of songs to share with him. Rocky just has to do his best to explain everything to me on his own. And that went…poorly. He sang for me once and only once.
My leading hypothesis is that the human ear can’t actually detect what Rocky refers to as ‘music’. First, he went stock still, all of his limbs touching the ground as if he were on tip-toes. Then, his individual claw digits began rapidly and rhythmically tapping the floor beneath him, followed by his vents radiating an oddly silently hiss. Finally, his two arms furtherest from me began scraping together like a cricket. It was entire ensemble of...nothing. I couldn't hear anything but the croaking sound of his carapace.
Half a beat later, I was hit with a wave of something new. My perception switched to slow motion like a light switch. I heard almost nothing, but I felt more disoriented, nauseous, and confused than I had back when I was double-dosed on pain killers. Rocky stopped quickly when he realized something was off and I immediately felt better. My best guess is that Eridian music (or at least Rocky’s version of it) is a physical frequency for the human body, not an audible one. Much like a speaker with too much bass, my body could feel his beat, even if my ears couldn’t hear it. Super weird and super cool.
I’d made a joke about how every concert on Earth would feel like Woodstock with Erid music. Rocky didn’t get it, of course, but I thought it was hilarious. Even now, weeks later, I feel the corners of my mouth pull up into a chuckle at my own musings.
Eridian concerts must be crazy. I wonder if thrumming also happens at concerts. Actually, do they even have concerts?? I’d love to find out, but it’s probably just another element of life on their planet that would kill me.
At least the music misery isn’t one-sided. Rocky hates my playlist, too.
He tends to do his loudest repairs and crafting whenever I’m playing Earth songs as background noise. But, to be fair, it’s a totally different experience for him. Even if I play it quietly, Rocky can always hear my music. It doesn’t physically affect him, but it really seems to annoy the poor guy.
Rocky had initially vetoed headphones when I found a pair in each of the crew’s personal storage containers (who wants to be locked in a tight space with others without headphones?). To Rocky, the idea of me using a device that would purposefully inhibit any of my senses was ludicrous. Or, stupid stupid stupid as he put it, along with some other choice words. But, he had a good point and certainly wasn’t keen on compromising.
That is until he had to listen to ABBA. After a single album, Rocky had changed his mind on the headphone rule. I’m allowed to use them, as long as he's made aware and agrees it’s a good time for it. That way, Rocky knows to get within my visual range if he needs me.
It’s been a few hours since I’ve seen him. It’s been a few hours since I’ve seen anything other than organism 42. I’ve been dutifully studying the absolute multitudes of lifeforms that hitchhiked across the galaxy from Adrian. Since I have so much time on this journey, there's no reason to rush through the observation process. The first round will just be simple, surface-level observations for a day or two. Then, once I document all of the microorganisms at least once, I’ll cycle back through and take more detailed notes.
In short, I can’t wait to see what these guys hold in store for me. That’s probably why I've been awake for 30 hours. I got so caught up in watching organism 42, a tiny little alien(!) moving ever so slightly to the left, that I didn’t notice a full human day had passed. Only now do I realize that hearing Collins’ In the Air Tonight means I’ve gone through the rest of the Bs and am well into the Cs of the music database.
Admittedly, I don’t think I remember hearing anything since Mr. Tambourine Man by The Byrds. I sigh. I need to sleep.
I put my notebook down beside the microscope, move a page marker into place and close the cover. Then I lean forward and rub my eyes deeply. With any luck, Rocky’s working on something at his workbench and I can just lay in my bunk and sleep for a few hours without having to intrude too much.
I’ve assured him a thousand times that I’ll be okay if he meanders off or busies himself with something else while I’m sleeping, but the idea is still taboo to him. He always seems to have a project in hand when I fall asleep or wake up, but who knows if that’s just for my benefit. I know that humans sleep much more frequently than Eridians and I imagine it might feel like a lot of responsibility for him to watch me for the entirety of every sleep.
Rocky insists on nothing less, though. He me told me a while ago that he values my well-being more than his occasional boredom and I genuinely almost teared up at the sentiment (it'd been a hard day, okay?). He’s just a good guy like that. And besides, I find that I do sleep much better with him watching than without.
I pack up my self-appointed Observation Station in a way that’s sure to remain absolutely stagnant for a few hours. The webcam gets replaced and everything’s set up to observe at least six hours of the coolest bout of nothing this equipment has ever seen. The rest of the lab is honestly a mess, I’ve been slacking off lately with the luxury of gravity. Stuff stays where I leave it, so I’ve been leaving things everywhere.
“Cleaning day tomorrow.” I announce to myself as I call it a day and head towards the dormitory, but I can hardly hear my own voice over the volume of the song. The tension surges in my headphones and the most iconic drum break is about to–
Nope, never mind, it’s too early. Phil gets me with his repetitive verses every time.
I mutter along with the lyrics, losing myself in the sweet, sweet synth. This takes me back to drinking with college friends in some crappy basement bar. People always choose In the Air Tonight for karaoke. Every time, without fail, every person in that bar would put down their glasses for a few seconds and air-drum the beat drop together. It was a mass bonding experience and so painfully human, I can’t help but remember it fondly.
“Well the hurt doesn’t show, but the pain still grows,” I close my eyes and let myself live in that memory for a moment with the music. This time I know for a fact I’ve got the verses right. My fingers twitch as they clutch imaginary drumsticks. Rocky probably thinks I’m losing my mind if he can sense my movements, but, c’mon. You can’t not air drum to this song. “It’s no stranger to you and m–”
My foot catches on a box I left out on the floor right as the first beat hits. I reach out to steady myself on the lab table, but just brush a stack of papers to the floor instead, littering the lab with my carefully curated notes. My momentum is still carrying me forward and I land on my right foot in a lunge that’s way too deep to feel comfortable. My knee buckles with the third beat of the drum break and I crash entirely to the ground.
Except…I’m close enough to the ladder that there is no floor, just an empty vertical shaft that leads directly to the dormitory below.
The worst part? I swear to God, a part of my body clangs off either the ladder or the wall panels in perfect unison with the drums of the song. Right as the last bass note hits, my crumpled body slams into the floor of the dormitory at the base of the ladder.
The music blares through my headphones. “I can feel it coming in the air tonight,” My body aches all over. “Oh Lord.” It’s all just a soundtrack to the worst stunt ever, now, as my head rings from whacking it against a really well made ladder.
Holy crap that hurt. But I’m almost impressed with how in-sync it was with the song. I may be terrible at dancing but at least I can fall with rhythm, apparently.
This is ridiculous. Absolutely embarrassing. I’m laying face-down on the floor, wheezing from having the breath completely knocked out of my lungs. And through it all, Phil Collins serenades me. "And I've been waiting for this moment all my life. Oh Lord."
Of all things, an odd giddiness bubbles up in my probably bruised chest and I just start wheezing with laughter. I’m exhaling all my breath at about the same rate I’m able to catch it which is creating quite the cacophony of sounds exiting my body. I remember being tucked beneath a blanket fort at a childhood sleepover, trying to pull an all-nighter and getting slap-happy around the 1 am mark. Once someone start giggling at something, it’s impossible to stop.
That’s when I remember that I’ve been up for 30 hours – way past the point of slap happiness – and of course, I just start laughing more. There are tears forming in the corners of my eyes.
God do I need sleep.
Still giggling to myself and wincing in pain, I roll to my back and face the hole in the ceiling I just fell through. Immediately, I’m jump-scared by an alien hovering directly above me, suspended in his xenonite enclosure and pounding against the panels, trying to get to me.
I scream like a little girl and rip the headphones from my ears, bringing a harsh end to the music. A split second later I recognize the shape above me as Friend rather than Foe and snap back to my senses. My hand still clenches my chest with residual fear and surprise.
“Rocky!” I shout. “You nearly scared me to death!” I complain, still wheezing from the various shocks I just delivered to my nervous system.
“You scare me first!” Rocky shrieks back at me, his frequency almost painfully pitched up. “Fall from lab, hit floor and have trouble breathing! Bad bad bad! No understand! You no respond! Music in you head! Bad bad bad!”
Oh, right. Rocky doesn’t know that 1 am giddiness that only comes with sleep deprivation. He’s seen a human laugh before, but he’s never seen a laughing fit. It also doesn’t help that I literally fell about a story right before said laughing fit and then was too caught up in the music to indicate if I was alright.
I’m still catching my breath a bit as I sit up against the ladder behind me. “You’re right, you’re totally right.” I hold up a hand in surrender. “That was really stupid and inconsiderate of me. I should’ve said something. I was just laughing at myself.”
“Have heard you laugh. Did not sound like human laugh.”
“It was a much more intense human laugh. A bit uncontrollable.” I smile sheepishly at myself, embarrassed now that I have to immediately explain how weird that whole thing was to an outside observer. “Especially when we’re tired, human emotions are hard to control.”
“No. You are grumpy and sad when no sleep, not much much happy.”
I shrug hesitantly. “It depends, really. Sometimes humans get mad for no reason. Sometimes we cry for no reason. Sometimes we laugh for no reason.” I rub my eyes, realizing how terrible this all sounds.
Poor humanity is going to look absolutely pathetic to our only known intelligent neighbors if I keep messing this up. It’s real bad luck that Erid’s first impression of an entire planet is going to be…well, me. I’m not the worst pick, but I’m not largely impressive, either. It’s a lot of pressure. Even though Rocky has witnessed me doing some pretty advanced and heroic stuff, he’s also watched me do a lot of dumb things, too.
I grimace. Sorry, Earth.
Rocky chirps and chimes at me; a slew of words I’ve heard before and a handful of ones I haven’t. Some of the sounds I know are insults because he’s used them before in tense situations but refuses to define them.
“Fix human!” Rocky slams two of his claws against the xenonite. “You scare me! Sleep fix human!”
I sigh and accept my fate. I deserve this. “Okay, okay.” I push myself up to my feet using the bottom rungs of the ladder and wince again. A sharp pain spikes through part of my rib cage and my head pounds in protest. Both of my shoulders throb. “Dang, that really hurt.”
“Yes, hurt! No understand why you laugh!”
I shrug and, surprise surprise, it hurts. “Sometimes you just have to laugh at yourself.”
“Weird.” Rocky pauses for a second and his fury subsides. “Why do this, question?”
“I don’t know.” I pause with him. “Laughing at something makes it feel less serious and therefore less stressful I guess.” I blink and the whole scene plays back in my mind. “Besides, you have to admit that fall looked ridiculous.” I drag myself over to my bunk, the very small remainder of the dormitory that still belongs to me.
Rocky hums. “Not know last word.”
I perk up. Really? He hasn’t heard me use this yet? I used it near-daily back in my classroom. But then again, middle schoolers are in general much more ridiculous than expert mechanical engineers from space.
“New word: ridiculous. It’s…uh,” I scrunch my face for a moment and try to figure out how best to describe this efficiently. “Something illogical or foolish. It usually makes people laugh.”
Rocky waits a beat in stillness, just staring at me. One of his fingers taps the floor, so I know he’s taking a good look. “Understand. Eridian word for this is ♫ ♪.”
I snap my head up because I instantly recognize those cords. They’re the exact same ones Rocky uses to describe me. A lot.
“Hey!” I point a finger at him. “You just called me that a few minutes ago!”
“Grace is illogical and foolish. Sometimes make me laugh. Also make me worry. If this is normal behavior for all humans, then humans are ridiculous.”
The sentiment crashes over me like a wave and I’m struck with an odd sense of recognition. Once again, in a few short words, Rocky has accurately summarized a complex topic with ease. “You’re not wrong.” I finally relent and admit humanity’s flaws. We are, as a whole, often ridiculous. It’s undeniable.
Another spike of pain hits my ribs, but it’s already a lot more dull than it was a minute ago. Hopefully it’s just bruised and not sprained. I rub at my chest.
“You okay, question?” Rocky asks, a bit delayed honestly, but it’s the thought that counts.
“Yeah.” I cover a yawn with my mouth. “I think you're right. I need sleep to fix me.”
“Good.” Rocky tilts his carapace. “Much work needed in lab tomorrow. Much science and much mess. Now, sleep, heal, fix.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me.” I did leave quite a mess up there. Come to think of it, I left a trail of disaster in my wake from the lab to where I now. But Rocky’s right, it’s a tomorrow problem. “Sorry for worrying you.” I offer lamely as I lay myself down against my pillow.
My eyes blink once, then twice, then they stay closed. My breathing deepens almost immediately. Sleep is nipping at my heels. One might even say I can feel it coming in the air tonight. I chuckle lackadaisically at my own joke as the melody drifts through my mind again. Not for the first time, I probably look a little insane.
I hear Rocky make a sound of…what is that, tiredness? Frustration? Exasperation? There’s an interesting undertone to the notes, like sarcasm mixed with something like endearment. “Always worry for Friend Grace. Many many many reasons to worry.” He adds as much dramatic flair to the last one as possible.
“Ha-ha,” I mumble back, hardly getting the second syllable out. Rocky chitters. And I fall asleep with a smile on my face.