Work Text:
As it turns out, there isn’t much to do on a four year journey trip to an alien planet. Deep into the first year of our trip, Rocky and I made a planning of activities for us to do.
In the morning, we work on personal projects, me studying taumoeba and the other microorganisms we collected from Adrian’s atmosphere, and Rocky tinkering away in his side of the ship building God knows what. I stopped asking after he tried to explain it to me five times and got so frustrated he stopped talking for two days. He says human brains are stupid and I say he doesn’t know how to teach.
In the afternoon, we choose an activity to do together. We rotate between puzzles, art (drawing for me and sculpting for Rocky), games and just chatting about our planets. We try to stay active and not lose our minds from the lack of stimulus.
Fortunately, for us – but especially for me and my mental health – Stratt had the good idea to put every piece of trademark media on the ship’s computers. And so every evening is ‘time for human show’ as Rocky calls it.
Tonight is Arrival and I can’t believe it took me so long to show Rocky the movie about making first contact with an intelligent alien species. He is fascinated by the way humans imagined an alien species and is glad that it didn't take us as much effort to begin to understand each other
I laugh nervously thinking how disastrous our whole journey would have been if we hadn't had such similar languages. I’m lucky that the only major difference was that Eridians don’t have genders.
I stop myself in my thinking and sit up straighter on my pile of cushions in the Don’t Crazy Room as the credits roll.
“Rocky, does it bother you that I’ve been using ‘he’ to refer to you?” I ask.
Rocky tilts his carapace to the side as he puts away his camera.
“Why bother, question? Eridians don’t have gender. Rocky don’t care.”
“It just doesn’t feel right,” I mumble, picking at a loose thread from my good luck quilt.
I hear Rocky emitting a low rumble in the equivalent of a sigh. He moves up to me in his ball and settles down in a loaf. I refrain from commenting how cute he looks when he does it. Not making that mistake again.
“Explain to Rocky again why are genders so important to humans,” he says with a hint of irritation.
“Well…” Where do I even start? “You remember the biological differences?”
“Yes, Rocky can’t forget.”
Right, of course. I laugh nervously and pass a hand on the back of my neck, suddenly finding it very hard to maintain eye – or eye to carapace – contact. Why am I so tense? I just have to state the facts.
“There aren’t just biological differences, it’s also sociological. Women and men are treated differently in most societies. But it’s more than that, genders are a part of our identities. Who we are.”
Rocky clicks his claws while thinking. I feel a strange weight in my chest. I want him to really understand that concept.
“Genders aren’t just social status markers but also part of the human, question? Part of who they are, question?”
“Yes! Exactly,” I say excitedly.
Rocky shifts from side to side as he processes the new information.
“So… it is important for Grace to be female?”
I freeze. Oh.
“I… Um… I’m not female.”
The words scrape against my throat and my whole body burns up once they are out in the open.
Rocky taps two claws against the floor and leans slightly towards me. I squirm uncomfortably under his gaze.
“Grace has female human reproductive organs. Grace is female, statement.”
My blood runs cold and I feel all my muscles tense.
Why don't you ever wear skirts? You’re a girl.
You should try makeup.
Be a little more feminine.
I feel the uncomfortable glances in the changing rooms. The rejection. The alienation.
I close my eyes and take in a deep breath.
He doesn’t know. He’s a literal alien, he can’t understand unless I explain it to him.
“I do have the body of a woman, but I am a man inside,” I say calmly.
“What, question? Rocky don’t understand. Do you humans have another body inside of body, question?”
I chuckle seeing the image in my head. It’s not that far off reality.
“I was born in a female body but in my mind I was always male,” I try to explain. “It happens sometimes, when the mind and body aren’t… aligned, I guess? We don’t really know why this happens.”
Rocky makes a trill of frustration and spins around with loud stomps.
“Humans always so complicated,” he says. “No make sense. Is stupid.”
My face drops ever so slightly as I hear voices of my past.
It’s just a phase, she’ll come around.
You’re too young to know what you truly want.
Stop being a freak and act normal!
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I hear myself say just above a whisper.
My body feels very far away and my mind numb.
“Where is Grace going, question?” Rocky asks from behind me.
When did I get up? It doesn’t matter. I- I need to be somewhere else, this room is too tight, the air too heavy. Is there a problem with the life support system? I register somewhere in the distance that it should concern me, but I can’t find it to care.
My feet begin to drag me out of the room. Is everything slow, or am I?
“Grace, question?”
I hear Rocky’s ball following behind me. Cold sweat breaks in my back and I refrain from shuddering.
“I’m going to bed,” I say in a broken voice.
“Oh, okay, Rocky wait.”
He sounds so worried it makes me hurt, but I need a minute. We’ve come to an agreement that when I go to bed, Rocky has to give me privacy for me to get clean and prepare for bed. Or the little bit of privacy one can achieve with an alien that can ‘see’ through walls. Right now, it means I get a moment by myself for which I am grateful.
I make my way to the dormitory and begin my night routine. The motions occupy my mind still in a foggy state. Until I catch sight of myself in the mirror while I brush my teeth. I am white as a ghost and with red eyes.
Stop being so dramatic.
I will not tolerate having a freak in my house! She either stops behaving like that or she leaves!
I spit the toothpaste in the sink and splash my face with some water. I immediately know it’s a mistake. The water droplets feel too heavy on my skin. I quickly dry them off with a towel, but the sensation lingers on. I groan. I skip the sponge bath and directly put on my pajamas and get into bed.
I just want to forget everything. I was okay when I didn’t remember anything.
…Maybe okay isn’t the right word.
I shift and bring the cover over my face in a little cocoon. How come saving the world seemed simpler than this?
“Can Rocky come now, question?” Rocky asks from the edge of the dormitory.
I make a nonsensical groan. Rocky has long become fluent in the various Grace-groans-and-other-sounds and I hear the click clack of his claws as he makes his way to his spot above my bed.
His carapace settles down against the xenonite barrier with a thump and his vents let out a loud huff. The only sounds for the next several minutes are his little echolocation clicks and my breaths.
“Grace mad, question?” He asks in a low tone.
“No,” I mumble.
“Grace mad, statement,” he says in frustration. “Why mad, question?”
I curl up in a tight ball with my knees reaching my nose. I wrap my arms around my legs and squeeze hard.
“It’s nothing,” I say. “I’m just being stupid.”
Rocky taps his claw against the xenonite angrily.
“Grace stop avoiding conversation. Why Grace upset, question?”
I grab my pillow and press it against my ears.
“I’m sleeping now Rock, good night.”
“No good night, Grace no sleep. Grace answer Rocky. Why Grace upset when Rocky said human genders stupid, question?!”
“Jesus Rocky!” I snap springing upward and yanking my pillow and sheets off me.
I don’t want to yell at my best friend but the anger and frustration flood out of me uncontrollably.
“Because I am stupid! Because I’m a freak who can’t be normal and like everyone else.” Tears run down my face and I feel my throat closing, making me choke on my words with years of enduring, of suffering and silencing myself.
But I continue, unable to stop now that I’ve started. “I wish I made sense. I wish I wasn’t a walking contradiction. What do you think? That- That I asked for this?! I want to be like everyone else but I’m not! I didn’t ask to be born that way. To be defective. To be broken. I just want to be comfortable in my own body. I want to be happy. Is that too much to ask?”
I’m standing in the middle of the room hyperventilating while my whole body is shaking. I grasp the front of my shirt in a fist, my knuckles turning white. I don’t know what to do with all that energy. I’m so angry at myself and at people – an entire planet really – that I will never see again.
I back away until I press against a wall and slowly slid down to the floor. I grab my shoulders and squeeze them inward to my chest in an attempt of self-soothing, but my tears keep coming.
I wail silently, paying no mind to the way my throat hurts, my head pounds and my lungs burn.
I’m distantly aware of some movement from the other side of the room, and soon after Rocky’s ball comes into focus in front of me. I must disgust him with the amount of leaking I’m producing right now. I sniff and wipe my eyes, but only manage to spread the wetness on my face and hands. I brace myself for the inevitable ‘disgust’ remark of Rocky.
“Grace… not happy… question?” He asks instead in a broken song.
That… wasn’t what I was expecting. And frankly, I don’t have an answer. What even is happiness? I don’t have a single memory of being truly happy, not because of my amnesia, I just never been 100% happy at any given moment. I have felt joy and excitement. But happiness is different, isn’t it?
Like right now, I saved one planet and am on my way to save another. I live with my best friend and every day is a blessing. But I know that in a few years my food will run out, and even with my best prognosis, I will arrive on Erid half starved and dying. Or the Hail Mary could fail before then, or we could get hit by a meteor.
Even if all goes well, I’m still running away from ghosts of my past, the harm they did continuing to affect me. I see them in my nightmares every night, in the way I act or think every day and in the shape of my face in the mirror.
So, no, I’m not happy.
And I haven’t made peace with it.
I shake my head and Rocky almost makes a full body flinch. He then goes very still with his carapace low to the floor, almost afraid.
“Grace not happy because of Rocky, question?”
“No, no Rocky, it’s not because of you,” I hurry to rectify. I press a hand against his xenonite ball. “You are the single person who brings me the most joy. Now, and forever.”
Rocky thrills high and shakes his carapace up and down. One of his claws reaches up and mirrors my hand on the barrier. But after a second, his claw clenches and his jovial energy dips.
“But Grace hurt by what Rocky said,” he murmurs in half a question, half a statement. “Rocky is sorry.”
My chest tightens at the regret in his voice. After everything we’ve been through, neither of us ever want to hurt the other.
I lean forward pressing my forehead against the warm xenonite.
“It's okay, you couldn’t have known,” I reassure him. “I should have explained better. And… I wasn’t really upset with what you said. It just reminded me of other things that people used to say to me on Earth.”
I close my eyes as I remember the disappointment in my parents eyes and the constant judgement from friends and strangers alike.
Rocky clicks his claws both in a thinking manner and to see me better.
“People on Earth were mean to Grace because of change in gender, question?”
A new wave of tears wells up in my eyes. I hear their insults just out of range and feel them running needles on my skin.
I nod.
“Rocky do not understand. Genders make no sense to eridian.”
I sigh. Yeah, that was to be expected. It's already difficult for humans to understand, so I won't blame a hermaphroditic alien species.
“Rocky do not understand, but Rocky knows it is important to Grace, so it is important to Rocky too.”
It takes a few seconds for my brain to compute what he means. I pull back from his ball to look him over.
“What do you mean?” I ask, a little bewildered
His ventilators let out a huff of hot air in frustration as he swings his carapace from side to side searching for better words.
“Human gender is important to Grace. Grace gender is important to Grace. Is part of identity, of self. Is not stupid. Grace not stupid, statement. Grace not a freak, statement. Grace deserve to be happy, statement.”
I open my mouth but no words come out. I don’t know what to respond or what to do. Thankfully, Rocky seems to know for me.
“Grace leaking again. Hug, question?”
I don’t even bother answering and wrap my arms around him, letting my tears run free. He is quick to return the hug, pressing his carapace against my chest.
It's as if a dam has burst open inside me, letting free an ocean of tears. How long have I been waiting to hear those simple words? How long have I been torturing myself for who I am?
“Grace doesn’t have to be like everyone else,” Rocky sings in a beautiful harmony. “Grace can be Grace, statement.”
I nod, a broken sound escaping from me. I nod again, curling tighter around Rocky. His warmth radiates within me, and I realize how cold the world was before him.
I let myself cry decades of hurt and hiding as Rocky soothes me with lullabies and promises of a better tomorrow.
Finally, my tears run out and I feel like myself for the first time.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “I… I think I needed to hear that.”
Rocky hums a content rumble.
We stay like that for a long time, neither of us wanting to end the hug.
“I think ‘they’ would be more appropriate to refer to Eridians,” I say thinking out loud. “Also less confusing. What do you think?”
“Hmmm, yes probably,” he answers.
“I feel a ‘but’ coming.”
He shifts under my hold, which I recognize as a sign of nervousness.
“Can Rocky still be a ‘he’, question?”
I blink. “Well, yes if you want to. But why? I thought it didn’t matter to you.”
More shifting.
“Rocky want to match Grace,” he confesses in a barely audible tune.
Oh Rocky… My heart isn’t used to so much love.
“Yes, of course you can.”
Gender has always been a part of my identity, broken, out of place, defective. But maybe it can be something else now, a part of my bravery, my chosen family, my happiness.