what if they gave grace lasik eye surgery before sending him into space and the glasses are just for show? what if he doesn't notice until he remembers the world blurring around stratt's face as they pump him full of coma drugs? he wakes up, no glasses, and stares at the perfectly clear details of mary's ceiling with a frown.
then, he checks for other coma surgeries. they took his appendix, his gallbladder, his wisdom teeth, and he suspects they gave him a vasectomy. he's a little scared to check that last one. it leaves his skin crawling, betrayal choking him, and he fights the urge to claw the scars open, to check with his hands that she had really done that to him. he settles for curling into the fetal position and crying.
rocky does what he can to comfort grace, pressing his xenonite ball into grace's side and making a deep humming noise that rumbles into his ribs. it helps. it's grounding. "why leaking, question."
"it's... complicated." grace sniffles. his leaky human-ness made rocky vaguely uncomfortable and sometimes amused. now it seemed his friend just wanted answers.
"eridian perfect memory, can understand. tell me, statement." rocky nudges his ball into grace's body. it's warm even through the xenonite.
"humans... oh, this is going to sound bad." grace shifts uncomfortably. surgery was horrifying even to humans, but it was often only done when absolutely necessary. "you know humans are soft, and we have a lot of soft internal organs, right?"
"correct. leaky space blob." rocky lifts a hand and taps the xenonite. "very disgust, statement."
"right, we have some... vestigial organs that don't function anymore. sometimes things go wrong with those organs, and we have to remove them," grace explains slowly, ready to calm a panicking eridian. "and to remove them, they have to cut our body open."
rocky stills for a long moment, quiet. "cut... open, question. no. no, that hurt human! human die! die, die, die! bad, bad, bad! why human do that, question!"
"easy, rocky." grace pats the dome. "we do it because the other option is dying. surgery—that's what we call it when we get cut open—it usually a last resort."
"humans so strange, statement. leaky, squishy, cut open!" rocky shudders in disgust. "why telling me about surgery, question."
"stratt... had some of the my troublesome organs removed while i was asleep. i didn't realize it until now." grace curls his hand over the scars on his stomach.
"while sleep, question! you no know, statement!" rocky presses his carapace against the xenonite. "grace give rocky hug now, statement."
grace leans heavily into the ball, rocky's atmosphere warms it thoroughly. if it weren't so pointy, it would be comfortable. "i'm okay, rock. just... another mark against stratt."
"please do not need surgery ever again." rocky grumbles.
"i'll try my best, pal," grace pats the ball again, reassuring.
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