Chapter Text
He was sitting on the beach feeling the tide come in against his bare legs. His pants were rolled up against his knees so he could properly enjoy the water against his skin. The temperature was perfect; it was clear Adrian and the other scientists had been working hard for him. It was just warm enough he wouldn’t get cold quickly but cool enough to be enjoyable in the heat of the biodome. In spite of his love for fog and rainy days, the occasional summer was still pleasant.
The crunch of sand behind him makes him turn to look at the beach.
He turns to the person on the beach and walks towards them, emerging from the water slowly to stand before them. He looks at their face but it is blurry, like a distant memory. Long dark hair is all he sees.
He reaches out, smiling, and takes their hand. They only seem to have one he can grab. He tugs them closer slowly and carefully, watching them hesitate on the coastline. The waves lap at their bare feet and they step anxiously.
He hushes them with words that don’t seem to really leave his mouth.
Their blurry face twists into what he can sense is a smile.
He cups a hand under the waves and brings it up to trickle the water over their arm. They tense up but calm while the water trickles down their arm and back to the water. They’re like a child and he’s getting them used to the water temperature before they take the plunge.
Their steps are slow, cautious, and he never lets go of their hand. He walks backwards into the waves, his clothes getting wet as they walk deeper. They don’t go far. The person he leads seems to get anxious once the water hits their hips and he stops. They stand there for a while.
Then, he lowers himself into the water proper. He lays back and floats for a moment, watching the person who still stands as they stare at him.
Eventually, the person joins him, lowering themself into the water while keeping their head above the waves. They take his hand as he floats.
Somehow, they end up tangled together in a pile. Their head is laid on his chest as they float. It shouldn’t be possible to float together. The water was salty but not that enough to float as one. He shouldn’t be buoyant enough to float like this, but together they do. Their head rests perfectly against his heart. He reaches up and feels their wet hair against his fingers…
Grace wakes slowly from the truly pleasant dream. He doesn’t blink open his eyes with any sense of urgency and lets himself wake slowly.
It’s like he can still feel the water and body heat as he slowly walks away from the water.
It’s the same dream he’s had for the past two weeks or so. It’s the only time a recurring dream was pleasant for him. Normally his dreams, when he did dream, were anything but nice.
But, this one is gentle, quiet. And, there’s a person he doesn’t quite know in it. Maybe it was a face he forgot. It happened often. Grace forgot many faces after years without them.
Grace slowly sits up, placing his hands on his chest where the person had laid their head. He presses down hard. He already misses it. The pressure and warmth. The shape of a human body against his. Grace misses the stranger in his dream and the weight of them laying in his arms. Laying on top of him.
He doesn’t mourn the loss for long before Rocky notices.
“Grace dream?” He warbles out, perking up from his newest project. The tone is enough to indicate it’s a question without the added taps. It’s the closest equivalent for Eridians to indicate a rhetorical question, something Grace had to get used to. He rubs his eyes and nods anyway. “Bad dream, question?”
Once Grace had explained nightmares, especially those caused by PTSD, Rocky got more worried every time Grace woke in the middle of the night cycle. Rocky himself experienced some form of occasional nightmare, a strange concept for a species that doesn’t properly dream. Decades alone in space and several stressful moments along with almost dying might do that to a mind, Grace supposes. It was bound to happen eventually.
“No, it was a good one this time,” he assures his best friend. He still presses down on his chest, on his heart, as if to keep it in his ribcage. It can’t replace the feeling in his dream, however. He can’t press hard enough. His heart aches.
Rocky whines, seeming to notice his plight, already standing. “Need pressure, question?”
Grace nods, slowly laying back down so Rocky had the space he needed. He takes a moment to settle, letting Rocky walk over him and place three of his arms over Grace.
It was a delicate balancing act, one that took several nights to perfect so that Grace wasn’t getting crushed outright but still receiving enough weight to be noticeable. Now, he loved Rocky as his own personal weighted blanket.
He rolls over so he can drape his own arms over Rocky who trills in delight and practically starts vibrating. Grace chuckles a little. It’s a little hard to imagine just a few years ago Rocky hated his hugs.
Grace settles into the embrace as well as he can. It doesn’t feel like enough, though. He still misses the feeling of skin on his. He misses the feeling of hair in his hands. He begins to choke up, even as Rocky holds him tighter.
As much as he appreciates Rocky for doing this there was nothing that could replace a human body against his. Even if he got the warmth of a hug from his beloved friend it didn’t replace real human skin. His xenonite shell was hard, not soft. Grace would even settle for feeling his body, even if they would kill each other.
He lets quiet tears fall. Another night of mourning the stranger in his dream.