Chapter Text
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PART ONE: Cruentus
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Ryland Grace was never where he was supposed to be.
When he was meant to be hanging out with Rocky (though he was not informed prior of said hangout), he was climbing the tree in his enclosure. (It eased away some of the strange feelings towards his living situation if he got ahead of them by joking about it. At the end of the day, he really was just a critter in an enriching enclosure.)
When he was meant to be asleep, he was working. (Rocky couldn’t always be there to bully him into resting.)
When he was supposed to die in space aboard the Hail Mary, he was living a cozy life on Erid.
In his bed, at school, in the wrong, teaching in the classroom, researching in a government lab, running for his life, in space, light years away, and now-
“Hoooooly fudging fudger.”
“Is that a human??”
Now, Grace was wading into the just-right temperature waters of his own personal beach to retrieve the blood-soaked maybe-human body floating face down near the shore.
Even though Rocky’s shrill, angry song was repeatedly demanding he do anything but.
“I can’t just- just leave them here!” He cried over his shoulder, hooking his arms under the humanoid’s armpits and doing his best to hoist them-
“What if they- a-arm! Arm! They have no arm!” Grace yelped as one of his hands found no arm to support his grasp.
Where the bloody humanoid’s left arm should be, there was a bloody, mangled mess just below the shoulder. Shredded bits of muscle and sinew brushed up against Grace’s hand and made his stomach churn.
Pushing through the feelings of the sticky blood-like substance (because surely it wasn’t all blood, right?) on his fingers, and the stringy gore on the back of his hand, and his shoes and socks and pant legs getting soaked by the pleasant water but swiftly chilling in the breeze, Grace dragged the other humanoid as best he could ashore.
He was so, so thankful the water did the majority of the lifting. Once the bloodied maybe-human was resting on the pebbled shore, it was significantly harder for Grace’s weak scientist arms to haul them more than a few feet.
Their boots were still being lapped at by waves, but at least they weren’t in immediate danger of drowning anymore.
Rocky pounded an angry claw-fist against Grace’s shin with a chorus of furious chirps. “Stupid! Thoughtless! What if it isn’t human? What if it is? What if it had hurt you? What if-”
He cut off his friend’s aggravated chiding with a blood-soaked pointer finger held up from where his arm was still tucked under the stranger’s, slowly and carefully lowering the humanoid down onto their back as he got down onto his knees. “Hey, same could’ve gone for you, pal.” He was panting, just a bit, from the effort and from the panic quickly mounting in his chest. “I took off my helmet just because you said to, and look where it got us!” He gestured with his head to the simulated beach around them for emphasis.
His attention snapped down to the humanoid in his shaky arms when they let out a strangled, gurgling gasp. Right! The maimed, bloody maybe-human was the most pressing matter. The one that, until that moment, Grace thought was likely already dead.
As they choked and coughed, he carefully turned them onto their right side so they wouldn’t further asphyxiate on the blood-like liquid that came gushing from their mouth.
Grace’s stomach further turned as he took the stranger in.
Aside from the missing arm (which on its own was pretty bad), they were covered in cuts and lacerations and blisters and burns and -
They took in a deep, rattling breath of air.
The reason Grace hesitated to classify them as “human”, aside from their sudden, impossible appearance inside his dome on a planet sixteen light-years away from Earth, was due to the row of sharp teeth he could see through a wound tearing a hole through the majority of their left cheek.
That, and the possible honest-to-goodness gills lining their neck.
Their eyelids fluttered, eyes rolling in their sockets, as they seemingly clawed their way to consciousness.
There was a particularly long gash across their nose and their left eye. Grace couldn’t be sure if they could still see out of it.
Grace wasn’t the medical sort of doctor, but even he knew it was something short of a miracle that they were awake, let alone alive.
As the stranger let out a sort of confused, desperate little whimper, Grace instinctively went to place a (what he hoped was) comforting hand on their side. “H-hey, hey. You-… we’ll get you some help. You’re gonna be-”
Their head snapped to look at him, glassy eyes suddenly wide with terror and alarm.
A strong, angular jaw covered in stubble. Long hair stuck to their skin, slick with the blood-like substance. Deep-set eyes, bleary with what was most likely blood loss and a dozen other inhibitors, locked hard into Grace’s own.
His breath caught in his throat.
How long had it been since he’d made eye contact with someone?
He used to dread it, but now he found it near impossible to look away.
In that moment, he knew they had to be human, despite it all.
Selfishly, his mind whispered, now you won’t be so alone.
Rocky pulled him from his staring by letting out a frustrated sort of burst of dissonant notes, tugging on Grace’s pant leg. “It could be contaminated! Now you will have to be quarantined and monitored!”
“Don’t you have to go through a decontamination process to get in or out of my dome anyhow?”
He threw two of his hands up in exasperation. “Not just for Erid! For you! You would be most affected by human-borne contaminants in this situation!”
Grace opened his mouth to continue to argue. Rocky had a point, of course, but that didn’t stop his unrelenting need to help another (probably) human being.
Besides, part of him loved to bicker with Rocky.
And Rocky loved to bicker back.
He was cut off, however, by the sound of many xenonite-clad claw-steps clattering their way.
It seemed Adrian and a few of the other biodome workers had noticed the strange happening and were rushing to aid and investigate.
Before he knew it, he was being corralled, at some points basically carried, to the small attached “human care facility” (before that point, just “Grace care facility”, really) by the arriving Eridians.
The bloodied stranger was hoisted up easily by the larger Adrian, and they and Grace were swiftly separated by frantic Eridians working hard to remedy their separate (and greatly varied in severity) issues.
—
The Eridian he’d been calling “Miracle Max” made a few dissatisfied clicks that Grace had surmised was their version of a “tsk-tsk-tsk”. “
The larger, off-white Eridian halted in their slow circular pace of the room they’d confined Grace in for the duration of his quarantine.
It was one that had held quite a few various salvaged parts from their exploratory disassembly of the Hail Mary for anything that could aid them in Grace’s care, before they’d put it back together even better than before.
The usual primary care room for Grace, the one he’d stayed in while he recovered from severe malnutrition after his arrival, was occupied by the bloodied stranger at his own insistence.
This room had been hurriedly cleared and sterilized to their best of their ability in its stead, with a mattress dragged in as soon as it had been finished being made.
He’d been there a couple days, with frequent checkups from all sorts of familiar Eridians.
He watched as Miracle Max tapped a xenonite-clad claw on the floor, checking once again on Grace’s internal workings with their echolocation. (At first, he’d found it quite disconcerting that they could see inside him that easily. Now, he found comfort in the fact that they could so easily and quickly catch when something was amiss.)
He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head a bit. The Eridian doctor had been stewing in whatever they’d wanted to say for quite a while now. He was sat on the mattress, legs crossed as he slowly rocked back and forth.
“The same reason why Erid cherishes you is what makes you so foolish.” They said suddenly, shifting to lift two of their limbs and clack their claws.
Grace couldn’t help but chuckle a little, hanging his head and shaking it. “You don’t gotta give me the whole lecture, Miracle Max. Rocky’s already yelled it at me plenty of times.”
One of his commandeered laptops translated his words into the Eridian language for Miracle Max’s benefit nearby. The old Eridian struggled to understand Grace, even with constant lessons and interaction.
Miracle Max let out a low, warbling sort of hum as they considered. “Still. If you hadn’t been so foolish, maybe you could’ve been there when Human B woke up.” They shuffled up closer to where Grace sat on the mattress, thumping and shuffling their legs a few times for emphasis. “They were loud and aggressive and-”
Grace lurched forward, eyes wide, “Wh- th- they’re awake?”
They made a sort of disgruntled chittering, placing down the claw they’d lifted to gesture with. “Yes. They woke up yesterday. Had to be restrained until Adrian talked some sense into them.”
He ran a hand through his hair, then gripped at it with a breathless little laugh. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? I-I could’ve been there!”
“Bad humans don’t get to be told things.” It was hard to tell when Eridians were joking, at times. But Grace had picked up on a certain lilt they often used, a little warbling to their notes. “And no, you could not have. You are under quarantine for another three Earth day periods still.”
Miracle Max began to shuffle towards the door, waving a claw. “But you are looking well. Maybe you could be released early.” They halted just before they left, tapping the nearby wall. “You are also not trapped here. We do not lock this door. Not much is stopping you from leaving.”
Grace furrowed his brows as he processed the implications of their words. (Well, “words”.)
They let out an amused noise that was partially the Eridian’s imitation of Grace’s own laugh, in a strange attempt to make him feel more welcome. “I will return in a few hours. I will see you then, if you are still here.”
It was horribly, terribly, awfully tempting.
It’s not like Grace didn’t have any friends on Erid. He got plenty of social interaction every day.
He had Rocky and Adrian, of course. They both visited as often as their own busy lives separate from the solo human would allow.
He had his class, and he was looking into finding a way to reach even more Eridian children. They were the brightest part of his day-to-day routine.
He had the biodome care team, whose relationships with Grace had developed from professional curiosity to genuine friendship.
There was Sirloin (he felt bad that he’d given a handful of Eridians their English names while he was starving) and Moss, the two other eager care team leads. He saw at least one of the three of them just about every day when they came either to check on him or to ensure the biodome was working as intended. Though, lately their visits had become more for chatter than routine checks.
(He was always being observed, one way or another, by the leads or their many assistants or consultants.)
There was also Buttercup, a semi-translucent yellow-orange Eridian who’d studied their equivalent of psychology their whole life, and had taken quite an interest in human psychology after Grace’s arrival, who’d made a point of meeting with him weekly to check in on his mental state. Apparently, they’d been combing through every available resource pertaining to the human brain the Hail Mary’s store had to offer. Which was a lot.
They were fairly eager to someday try to apply it to Grace’s care in a more intuitive and involved way, but that was a little ways off, it seemed.
And there was the small, crude, quiet Eridian he’d named Mr. Mistoffelees (it’s not like they could judge him for the name choice, and “Cats” was a work of art regardless, thank you very much) had just about demanded they take on the study and care of the plants the Hail Mary had on board, in hopes of better understanding and cultivating them.
Mr. Mistoffelees sent weekly reports about their findings and updates on the state of each sprout.
He didn’t see much of them, but Grace just knew one day soon they’d approach him with the idea of setting up a greenhouse or farm of sorts within his dome. (That’s certainly what Grace would do in their place, at least.)
The “human nutritional team” (as they called themselves) were always eager and clambering for Grace’s input on their innovations. Every couple days, one of them would scuttle up to his front door, eagerly hoisting up something new for him to try. Though it seemed to be more out of personal intrigue for most of them, Cheeto, Robin, Dune, and Orca frequently went above and beyond in the pursuit of a balanced but enjoyable diet for Grace.
Over the months he’d been living there, his “food” went from tasteless texture nightmares to semi enjoyable approximations of real human meals.
Then there was Miracle Max, the wily old Eridian who had overseen Grace’s recovery after his arrival, as well as his general care and health going forward. Though he really only saw them when something was wrong, or for the occasional checkup, they were always a delight to chat with.
So yes, his social needs were well and truly fulfilled. Sometimes too much, even.
But that didn’t stop the selfish, primal part of his brain from frenzying.
The internal pack animal desperate for another of it’s kind.
The Eridians were nice.
More than that.
They were absurdly, outrageously kind. They committed countless hours and resources to Grace’s care and to some of his ridiculous desires. (Seriously, Orca was a saint for developing the nutrient-rich soda.)
But they couldn’t touch.
They couldn’t smile.
They didn’t meet the absurd psychological need for human touch, and contact, and voices, and faces, and all the rest.
So yes, it was stupid of Grace to break his quarantine.
Scientific intrigue and personal desire could wait out the quarantine period.
But he was Ryland Grace.
He always ended up where he wasn’t supposed to be. Did things he shouldn’t, went against instruction and better judgment and common sense.
So, of course, the moment Miracle Max’s claw-steps faded down the winding halls connecting the human-safe areas to the rest of Erid, Grace slipped out of his quarantine room.
There was a big clear pane of xenonite along the front of the room the bloodied stranger was staying in.
Grace had found a bit of comfort in watching all the Eridians go about their work keeping him alive and finding ways to keep him comfortable as he recovered in that room.
Now, someone else sat in the cot he’d spent a month or so in.
It seemed like the Eridians had given them a sort of shower, as they were no longer soaked head to toe in blood.
They were covered in bandages and a plain grey sort of t-shirt that was likely crafted for them in a hurry. Sat propped up by pillows on the cot, knees tucked up to their chest as they watched the duo of Eridian “human care specialists” mill about their work keeping them alive and helping them heal.
They had a masculine frame, and though one eye was covered by bandages, their stare still held an intense sense of caution, now bolstered by lucidity. Their hair, now dry, was dark and wavy, reaching just past their chin.
The strange, sharp teeth exposed by the hole in their cheek were covered up by bandages.
But the possible gills on their neck certainly weren’t. Grace was more sure that’s what they were, now that he could see them more properly.
(So he hadn’t imagined those, then. Good to know.)
How in the world were they already so awake and alert? Again, Grace was no sort of medical doctor, but he was certain they’d be down for the count for quite some time, if they ever really recovered at all. From what he saw when hauling them out of the water, and from the minimal information Miracle Max was willing to disclose (“I value patient privacy, Grace!” they’d told him), he wasn’t sure they’d pull through.
But there they were, raptly watching two of Miracle Max’s assistants as they went about their work checking on all the wires and various Eridian machines imitating human medical equipment attached to them.
Grace could see another laptop set up at the foot of the cot, no doubt to translate the Eridians’ speech for them.
His heart began to race once more. He had been certain for so long that he’d never see another human being ever again.
Now that there was one in front of him, he was conflicted.
He was excited, of course. Who wouldn’t be?
But he was also petrified.
Ryland Grace had never been good with people.
Sure, he was often well-liked by colleges (when he didn’t call them “staggering wastes of carbon” and make allegedly outlandish claims), and by his students and most of their parents, and fellow teachers, and by all his grandparents’ friends. But he was certain it was all because he had a sort of “aloof, well-meaning dunce” sort of charm.
But he struggled to make real connections his whole life.
He’d never had a best friend before Rocky.
Partners didn’t last long, and his longest relationship to date had gone up metaphorical flames.
People were just so hard for him to read. They often said one thing but meant something entirely different. Everyone’s expressions were so complex and near impossible for him to translate, especially once he realized everyone made their own unique ones to mean their own unique things.
He was always too much, or too little, or too focused, or too distracted, or too strange and off-putting and all the rest.
Grace only had one shot to make a good impression on what was likely the only other human he’d ever encounter for the rest of his life.
So he was mortified when their head suddenly snapped in his direction, their posture becoming impossibly more tense than it already was.
They bowed their head a little, maintaining harsh and wary scrutinizing eye contact, reminding Grace startlingly of his grandmother’s favorite stray cat when he’d tried to pet him for the first and only time.
He swallowed hard as he lifted a hand to wave.
Their eye tracked the movement, then locked back on his face once he’d dropped his hand again.
Going great so far. They only look the most terrified and guarded I’ve ever seen a human being look in my life.
As Grace moved for the door, the pair of Eridians inside the room halted and began tapping their claws on the floor with curious notes.
“- approaching? Miracle Max is supposed to be heading home after-”
As he opened the door, the voices from the translators overlapped with their chatter in an uncomfortably cacophonous way.
“- is Savior Grace! Bad bad bad! No come inside! Supposed to quarantine!”
One of them raised up two claws and waved them frantically. “Not properly introduce! Human introduction process ruined!”
“We- we’re not…” Grace barely minded the claws tugging at his sweater, urging him to step back out of the room. His mind was too focused on the way the stranger’s muscles tensed at the sound of his voice. “.. cats.”
He relaxed his own shoulders and forced an attempt at an easygoing smile on his face. “Hey. Good to see you, uh… awake and not bloody!”
Their eye darted down to the two Eridian specialists, then back up to Grace’s face. Their whole body was tensed, every nerve drawn taught and ready to spring at a moment’s notice.
“I’m Gr-”
He was cut off by the feeling and sound of something whizzing past his ear.
Then the clatter of an object hitting the doorframe just behind his head, on his right. He jolted, his stomach plummeting and his whole nervous system stuttering. He found himself frozen in place, unable to properly react.
The stranger had, in movements too quick for Grace’s mind to register promptly, hurled a xenonite cup they’d apparently had stashed under their tucked legs at his head.
Their brows were drawn together, face screwed up with an almost defiant glare.
It wavered, only briefly, something approaching perhaps regret or embarrassment flickering across their features, before the ferocity behind the contempt glare returned and doubled.
The two Eridians (he’d called them “Fezzik” and “Inigo”) let out shrill shrieks of distress and disappointment.
“Exclamation! Is bad bad bad!” Fezzik spun in place, a panicked little circle, before scuttling out the door, likely off to retrieve reinforcements.
“Human B angry! Savior Grace ruin human introduction process!”
“… Grace. I’m Grace.” The blonde scientist took a deep, shaky breath. “Tech-technically, my name is Ryland. Doctor Ryland Grace. But everyone calls me-…”
His words died off in his throat with the intensity of the stranger’s stare.
Clearly, this was another to add to the pile of Grace’s many, many bad ideas and miscalculations and mistakes.
Nausea twisted his insides as he realized he’d royally screwed up yet another relationship before it had even begun.
A frenzy of claw-steps grew closer within a painful minute that seemed to stretch out for hours, and soon Adrian was gently shoving past Grace’s stiff form to make their way into the room, holding two claws up. “Is okay. Is okay. Friend Grace not with bad humans.” They planted themself firmly in front of the stranger’s line of sight to Grace.
The stranger’s shoulders relaxed just a bit at the sight of the turquoise Eridian, their gaze losing some of it’s sharp edge. They took in a quiet, deep breath.
Had they not been breathing that entire time?
“Adrian promise Friend Grace mean no harm. Friend Grace just idiot.”
Grace opened his mouth to defend himself, but slowly closed it.
.. they were right.
“Will explain Friend Grace. Properly introduce.” They angled their carapace towards Grace in a way to indicate he was being indirectly spoken to. “Apology apology apology for Grace intrusion.”
“I-I just- I wanted to…”
Adrian placed a claw on Grace’s forearm, a gesture of comfort they had most certainly picked up from him. “Not yet. Time come. But time not now. Now is for healing.”
Grace nodded slowly, taking a shaky step back.
He let out a startled little yelp as he felt a tug on the back of his sweater, and he was yanked fully out of the room.
He stumbled over Rocky’s form, his shoulder colliding with the wall on the other side of the hall outside the stranger’s room.
Inigo pushed the door closed behind him with an aggravated clicking.
“You are so stupid!” Rocky still gripped onto his sweater, stomping two of his legs against the ground in frustration. “Why did you break your quarantine? Why did you barge into the dangerous human’s room?”
Grace’s entire body felt useless, weightless. He had to focus rather hard to get it to move.
His tongue was heavy. Words were difficult.
He’d messed it all up. Again.
“… I just wanted to see them.”
Rocky’s aggravated motions slowed, the claw still holding the back of his sweater fidgeting with the fabric.
His tone was much gentler when he spoke again. “I understand. You haven’t seen another human in so long. You’re eager.”
He then shuffled his legs, releasing Grace’s sweater to point up at him and shake his claw in an imitation of one of his usual "teacher gently scolding” stances. “But we have to do it right. Make sure you are safe.”
Grace remained with his shoulder leaned up on the wall, allowing his head to gently thud against it. “Did I mess it up already, Rock?”
“Hmmm. Maybe a little.”
He groaned, going to scrub at his face with both hands. The motion knocked his glasses askew, causing them to hang down near his chin. “The only human for light-years, and they already hate me.” He slowly crouched down, head and shoulder still pressed up against the wall. “I’ve barely even said a full sentence to them!”
Rocky made a sympathetic sort of hum, pressing his body up against Grace’s side. “It’s okay. Adrian and their crew will fix this.” He patted his friend’s leg with one claw. “You just have to actually listen to them.”
Grace slowly removed his hands, going to place his glasses back onto his nose. “… yeah. Okay.” He patted the top of Rocky’s xenonite suit, pursing his lips. “Can’t believe a bunch of aliens are better at connecting with a human than I am already.”
“I can believe it. I’ve met you.”
He let out an indignant “hey!” while his friend made his own chittering sort of version of laughing.