˚.⋆☾ KyloBlue ☽⋆.˚ @kyloblue - Tumblr Blog

Sea Monster (Giant Mer!Simon Fic YAY!)

𖥔 First off, EVERYONE give their thank-yous and love to the AMAZING and TALENTED @awkward---as---hell for beta-reading this fic! They had to deal with the horrid length and my disgusting grammar and spelling issues, but they made a hell of a difference! Please give them so much love, check out their blog, and read their fics as well; they're written so nicely and yummy, and I personally love them so much<3 Second, It's based on THESE and THIS drawing I did, and the ideas kinda branched off from there! Third, I'm sorry about the length; idk what happened. I feel like I blacked out and woke up, and all these words were just suddenly there. Also sorry about the lackluster ending; I couldn't really think of anything, and if I reread this fic one more time imma scream or get bored and never post it heh! 𖥔

𖥔 NOTE PLZ READ: This has a lot of exposition ideas for an AU, so the beginning is a little slow! If you're not into that or just aren't interested, I would recommend skipping this one just bc I don't want to waste y'all's time with the length. If you're here just for tickles, I won't be offended hehe! 𖥔

𖥔 Slight spoilers for both movies and book! 𖥔

Summary: takes place after Grace and Rocky crash-land on an unknown planet after following a distress signal! Grace while alone and stranded, starts talking to a local fish creature he can’t quite seem to get a good look at!

Switch!Grace / Switch!Simon / Switch!Rocky

Word count: 11,402

“Why don’t you come out?~"

The only answer I get is another soft wave rolling onto the black sand.

“Come on,” I continue, leaning back against a warm rock. “I've only caught, like… three whole glimpses of you and I’d love to see more…”

Silence.

“Rude.”

I shrug at no one and take another bite of the fish. Well… fish-ish. It's sort of like fish. I think. It's definitely aquatic.

…

It's an alien that lives in water, and I cooked it, and I’m eating it. No, I don't care; I’m actually gaining weight back now. Surprisingly, it tastes a lot better than the Taumoeba slurry, though I think anything would at this point.

I gaze at the ocean as it stretches endlessly before me, impossibly teal beneath the pale sky. Even after months here, I catch myself staring. Every so often, sunlight catches the planet's enormous rings. Turning them into ribbons of white and lavender that seem to kiss the ocean's waves at the horizon.

It's so similar to Earth but so different all the same. Like if I squint, I'm at a normal beach on a normal day on normal Earth.

I catch the brief glimpse of a dark silhouette before it disappears beneath the water again.

“...I saw that.”

Rocky thinks I'm encouraging it, but personally, I think it's been encouraging me, if anything. It's hard to say who's stalking whom at this point. It surfaces just far enough away that I can’t make out its features except for its sheer size, and it almost feels like it’s on purpose at this point.

Every morning I come out here, and every morning I catch that same dark shape watching from just beyond where the ocean floor suddenly drops away. Sometimes I look over my shoulder, and it's gone. I swear I catch something ducking behind the cliffs on this little island, which admittedly is difficult to do when you are apparently several stories tall. Assuming I'm not hallucinating.

Gosh, Ryland, you really must be losing it, talking to alien fish creatures on some random planet. None of this would have happened if not for one measly little pipe.

The Hail Mary recycles almost every drop of water onboard—sweat, breath, and yep, even my own urine. Somewhere between Tau Ceti and Erid, one crucial pipe decided it had enough. Because of the pressure behind said pipe, SEVERAL liters of my precious water instantly flashed into vapor. Then, the ship dumped all the excess contaminated steam into space. Thank the lord for NASA engineers—let me tell you, Mary was fitted with automatic safety valves that isolated the damaged section and quickly stopped the leak.

Rocky fixed the pipe in less than a day, which is fantastic, but now our water reserve, which was in the low nineties to high eighties, is now at a whopping twenty-eight percent. Not as fantastic.

I shift my gaze from the water that brought us down to the surface of this planet to the sky. This planet not only had those wonderful rings but also three large moons. One is grayish white, one is an icy blue, and one is a rusty red. All are pretty in their own right, but my favorite is the red. It burns through the night sky, almost tearing through the soft pale rings as it passes. But…during the day, it looks pink, soft and hazy.

I kept running calculations after the leak. The machine was fixed, but our little water problem wasn't. You might think, well, that’s fine because it's a closed system, right? Wrong. Yes, a closed system, but the recycler doesn’t make water. They aren't magic. Every day you lose a little more. Normally this is fine… unless more than half your water has now been blown out into the void of space.

But…we intercepted a distress signal, which in hindsight may have been a really bad sign. Maybe a distress signal going dead after only a day in deep space is actually an amazing sign to run the other direction, but I met and befriended an alien before; what’s one more? Also, I was going to die at this point anyway, so why not the pit stop? And IF other aliens were here, maybe they would have some water to spare for me too?

When we got here, a beautiful teal-ish blue oceanic planet stood…but no ship or technology, and no aliens- well, no intelligent ones, from what I could tell.

Huffing at the memory, I take another bite of…this thing.

I glide my hand through the black sand, feeling the grains between my fingers. It's strange. It's finer than Earth's beaches, almost like warm volcanic ash. Every handful leaves my fingers glistening with tiny flakes of volcanic glass before the wind sweeps them away. Stranger still is the lavender sand that sits on the opposite side of the island. I know of pink beaches on earth, but purple is definitely unusual.

I have a theory that the island we're on isn't technically an island in the regular sense. The odd crescent moon shape and the absence of any other visible island-type masses make me think that Mary, Rocky, and I are currently setting up residence on a volcano overtaken by the sea. The hole in the middle, full of water, is the cavity of a volcano, and the crescent is the rim, and every day I pray it's dead or, at the very least, dormant.

I nibble a piece off as my eyes float right, and as my head turns, I'm greeted with one of the most amazing features this planet has to offer.

Instead of other islands or flat landmasses, you can see two colossal volcanoes side by side, which may have also supported my previous hypothesis. It's hard to gauge how big they actually are from a distance, but they seem bigger than anything Earth or even our solar system has ever seen, even rivaling Olympus Mons on Mars.

One is dark and short—but also wide and definitely spills lava, while the other is white and tall. I think it shoots out heated water and steam rather than magma like its counterpart. A charcoal mound sits next to a crystal white peak, and man, what a view I get to see.

I guess it really is the little things that matter when you are stuck on an alien planet.

I’m getting to the last bits of my… whatever this is, and I start to shift to my feet. “Okay, Big Guy. Keep your secret—”

Tink

I flinch at the sound and glance towards where I think it came from—

“—OW!” My butt falls back to the sand, and I jerk a hand up to the top of my head, wincing as a sharp bloom of pain pulses there. “Tssss…” I hiss through my teeth, rubbing the sore spot. My eyes flutter open to find a…full shell a few feet away. That was definitely not there a moment ago.

A laugh slips out of me before I can stop it. So that's what happened. It must have overshot on its first throw, the sound being another shell flying off somewhere in the distance. I guess even alien fish have trouble aiming, apparently.

The pain seems to immediately fade as my interest in the object grows. I crawl over, pushing up my glasses, and rotate the shell in my hands. Well—Earth's approximation of a shell, anyway.

Sure, little fragments of ‘shells’ make their way to the beach, but the strong and unpredictable tide tends to keep it relatively clean. The only time I've been able to scavenge any particularly intriguing specimens is during the short periods of low tide and with a little digging.

This one's different.

It's whole. Heavy. I'm actually kind of surprised it didn't break skin. It's much bigger than my hand by a long shot, with the smooth, curved shape of an abalone shell and a pearlescent lavender interior that flashes blue, pink, and green when I tilt it toward the light. The shape, however, isn't really what you usually expect; less flat than an abalone, more like a miter shell, almost as if two of them had been fused together side by side. It spirals up at both ends, and the hole leading inside is huge. I can't imagine the creature that lives inside this thing.

My head snaps in the direction of the splash, anxious to finally see what my gift giver looks like, but once again I only see a small shadow as it shifts behind the cliffs of the island before disappearing beneath the surface.

“Tha—THANK YOU!” I excitedly shout in its direction, even though it almost definitely does not speak human English. I hope it somehow understands I'm very pleased with my present. It would have been nice just to come and hand it to me and not chuck it at the back of my head, but hey. Progress is progress. This is the first time it’s actually interacted with me instead of just lurking offshore while I ramble at the sand like a lunatic.

My eyes wander back to the object, and I pick myself up. I gingerly walk across the warm onyx sand into the Hail Mary and head straight for the lab, murmuring under my breath. Maybe I should get Big Guy a gift in return; that's the polite thing to do, right?

“What Grace have, question?” The computer voice rings out through Mary as I step inside and start to grab some equipment and sprawl it across a table.

Rocky's been working nonstop on the ships' damages. I wish I could help him more, but he insists that I would get in the way, though I don't think he means it in a mean way. I'm not an engineer; the most I could provide is some ideas and extra hands, to which he said he already had more hands than me anyway.

"Oh, you know; my very own FULL shell from the beach,” I answer a little smugly. Although he is busy, he has been fascinated by alien life and the cycles of this planet too, so I'm sure he'll be jealous of my amazing specimen. He doesn't respond, but I hear the heavy thumping of him making his way to the lab with me. I'm glad he's taking a break; it's been increasingly difficult to get him to do that more and more lately.

He rarely leaves the ship, sure, because of all the stuff that needs to be fixed, but we are surrounded by a ton of water. And well—if he were to fall in or get swept away by the unpredictable tide, he would probably sink…like a rock. Pun intended. If that were to happen, I probably wouldn't be able to do much; he weighs way too much for me to be able to lift or swim with him.

Rocky would eventually starve, run out of ammonia, or his suit would burst under the insane pressure of water, and I would be stuck on this planet with a broken ship until I croaked too. So I’m a little happy he’s too busy to be out exploring as I can.

He scuttles up beside me and reaches out for the shell in my hand. "Where Grace get, question?"

Shrugging, I respond, "Umm-I just found it.” Rocky isn't too pleased with me talking and attempting to interact with our rather large friend in the ocean. With a chuckle, I lift it out of his reach as he tries to swipe the shell from me.

He stops his grabby claws, instead pointing accusing digits at me. “Grace lie to Rocky. Tell truth.” His leg stomps against the floor as I roll my eyes. Why did I have to get stuck with a human lie detector?

“Okay, okay.” I rub the back of my neck, already regretting how much he's going to hate my answer. “Well, Big Guy gave it to me,” I answer meekly.

Rocky goes rigid. “Grace! Rocky say bad bad bad idea to interact with it! Creature come out of water and give?! Could hurt! Very big!” He stomps more vigorously, and I swear I see some steam start to billow from him.

"Well, it actually threw it at the back of my head; I didn't get a chance to see what it looked—.”

"Creature THROW object at Grace, question?! Grace not interact anymore! Hurt on purpose! Grace being stupid, statement!”

I shove the shell at Rocky, hoping it will distract him from his anger towards me. "Oh, come on, Rock. If he actually wanted to do anything, he would have. He's literally as big as Mary, if not bigger.” I mean, I haven't actually seen the end of its tail yet, so overall size is to be determined.

He snatches the object from my hands as a low rumble vibrates out of him, clearly still fuming over the situation. I closely observe as he taps against the shell a few times, then immediately shoves it into my stomach with a sharp squeak. My hands latch on and hold the heavy thing to my chest, making sure it doesn't drop or shatter.

“Hey! Rock—”

“Grace! Something alive in there!” and just like he said, a large slimy slug but also definitely not a slug-creature starts wriggling out right by my face. A very manly screech rips from my throat, and I drop it against the table, pushing it far from the edge and far from me.

“Grace did not check!?!?!” Rocky squeals out, moving several feet away from the table. A surprisingly long tail unfurls from the creature while two antennae-looking appendages slowly grow up and out from what I think is its head.

“NO! Grace obviously did NOT check!” Why would I check?! My bad for assuming; most of the time when you're gifted a shell, it's empty, okay?!

My eyes widen as I watch the thing crawl slowly across the table with multiple fleshy legs, bodily fluids now oozing out of its shell. Rocky's the lucky one. The thick wet smell coming from this thing is potent in a way I can't even describe.

It's as if a snail and a blobfish had a child and then subjected it to a series of deeply unethical experiments.

Although I'm very intrigued, I'm thoroughly disgusted. (Comment: Not sure if you're an anime nerd, but I very loosely based the snail after Ventricous's slug form from Houseki no Kuni as a nod to more sentient rock characters lol, so if you want a loose visual, look them up!)

“Rocky done. Can not handle liquid. Handle Grace leaking enough. Grace fix.” Squeaky, high-pitched trills, accompanied by chords of disgust humming beneath them, fill the corridor as he quickly scuttles away, the two claws that held the creature raised in repulsion.

Mmm. Thanks a lot, Rocky.

I guess it's technically my fault, though, so I might as well take some notes. I decide to take a few pictures and videos, holding my breath as much as I can because even the thin blue face mask I put on isn't helping with the stench. After a few swab samples and some measurements of the little guy, I scoop the little guy up and place him in a large tub. I don't want to touch this thing as much as possible, even with gloves on, although he’s growing a little bit on me. He’s just a little…gross, is all.

This isn't my first time finding little creatures alive, but…this one looks like it came from a very deep part of the ocean, not the little crab and sea mite-looking things from up here. Without the water to support his blobby body, he appears kinda…squashed.

I take the tub back toward the beach, planning to let it go. My mind wanders as I walk. I'm honestly a little sad I wasn't able to keep that shell; it was beautiful.

Wait.

Did Big Guy want me to eat it and that's why it was still alive? Is it rude for me to throw it back if it's a gift? Will it get mad if I do this, as if it were some peace offering I'm quite literally throwing away into the ocean?

I frantically scan the shoreline and, unfortunately, catch a glimpse of a dark blob under the teal water to my right.

Fudge, it’s out there.

“What are we going to do with you?” I peer down at the little slug thing and huff. I don't actually believe the creature out there will do anything; at any point it could have grabbed me, but it continues to just stare and listen.

With one arm wrapped around the tub, I use my other to pull off my shirt, throwing it to the sand. I tumble slightly, kicking off my shoes and tugging off my socks, then start my way to the water.

I might as well bite the bullet. We can NOT keep this thing in the ship, and I don’t have the heart to kill it. Sorry, Big Guy, your gift was nice before the slug woke up.

Eyeing the dark shadow, I cautiously walk in, around waist-deep. I tip the tub and watch the little thing float off and then sink below the water with some bubbles. I turn to trudge back, but my foot catches on something hidden beneath the water, and I stumble forward, crashing onto the tub and dropping to my knees.

I quickly squeeze my eyes closed and hold my breath as the sudden large wave rolls over me. As the water pushes forward, I feel myself slowly sinking into the sand. I scramble and claw up on my knees, trying to find the surface above.

The thing about this planet is that the tides are VERY unpredictable and VERY strong. Those three moons I mentioned constantly push and pull at the huge oceans. Tides can change drastically in just a few hours, if not less, even if the water looks calm.

The water pulls back hard, knocking me off balance, my knees slipping out from under me, and I feel myself being tugged into the ocean. Suddenly, I don't feel sand under me anymore, just the abyss of the giant planet beneath.

Okay, Ryalnd…don't panic. This is fine. Everything is fine. You know how to swim; just calm down. Just—

Screw calming down, I need oxygen. Now.

I flail against the ocean, trying to open my eyes despite the salt. My sinus burns as it’s flooded with water, and I feel myself sink. Cold water fills my ears, muffling the sounds of the crashing waves.

The initial wave knocked the wind out of me, leaving no air in my lungs to keep me buoyant. I can feel myself sinking lower, the water stacking heavier on top of me. While trying to push myself upwards, I feel a firm pressure against my side.

I go still, and then everything seems to stand still with me. I pry my eyes open, and I can finally see that… It has fingers. Five of them even. All wrapped around me with impossible care as if I'm something fragile and not drowning idiot. They end in sharp black claws. Attached to them was an arm. Arms belong to people, to human people. Fish aren't supposed to have arms. Fish definitely are NOT supposed to look like this.

A cluster of large silver bubbles floats from the front of its face as its eyes narrow at me, just staring for a few moments like it's taking in what I look like too, its hand cupping around me softly. I stare in awe, trying to make out its features through the water and without my glasses.

A low growling noise comes from it that I can feel ripple through the water, earning a flinch from me in response. Its hand flips under me and pushes my body up toward the much-needed oxygen. I feel the surface tension break around me, allowing myself to take in a giant inhale but immediately regret it as I start coughing up water, though I can’t bring myself to care. Air. Air is all I can think about.

I don't feel it below me anymore, and when I look down, its hand is gone. My eyes frantically search the water below for movement of any kind through tears but see none. I peer out to the horizon while coughing and twist desperately, searching for our little island.

Oh no.

I have to be a few hundred meters out. My eyes sting as I once again try not to panic; the surface is rough, the waves snapping and twisting under the wind. Another swell slams into my side, and I duck under it with a terrified gasp.

I flinch and try to swim, shooting my head up to keep myself from swallowing any more water as I feel something brush my feet, and then—

Am I sitting?

Coughing more, eyes screwed shut, I let my hands carefully feel around the area, and it's…soft? My eyes slowly open, and I find myself in its palm again. I look over my shoulder and catch its sharp eyes as it creeps its head above the water.

So very human.

For a few seconds, it stares deep into me with unreadable, piercing eyes, its large size casting a shadow over me. More water fights its way out of my lungs, and another coughing fit starts, though I keep my eyes fixed on it, turning around to face it completely. Its head cocks to the side as I wheeze more.

I jolt, feeling something press into my right shoulder, nudging at me. His fingertip presses my shoulder with all the care of someone trying not to crush an insect.

Without thinking, I quickly twist and grab tightly onto that finger, holding for dear life as the waves push up and onto its hand.

“Aha—t-thank you! Uh, *huff*, could—can you h-help me b-back?!” Almost begging this creature, I'm on the verge of tears, desperately trying to will them back. Oh gosh, not right now, Ryland. Cry about your near-death experience later.

Silence fills the air, only the sound of water lapping against it. Its gaze looks out to the island, then back to me. It starts to lower again, and I panic. Again.

“NO! No no no! Wait—plea—!!!” But it stays right below the surface, its black hair floating in curly wisps around it, and I feel myself move. The salty wind softly brushes against my face as I'm pushed toward our little island.

I-it's actually helping me back!

Tears start to roll down my face as relief and exhaustion set in; so much for crying later.

After a few very nerve-wracking minutes, we're back to the island. To my shock, it starts to beach itself on its stomach, flinging mist into the air. The sudden high tide seems to be helping to compensate for the lack of a second arm. It goes impossibly still, then lowers me to the ground. I ache all over, lungs and sinuses burning. My legs feel like jelly as I try and fail to lift myself, falling back down in the puddle of water cupped in his palm with me.

“Sorry,” I manage weakly because apparently my first instinct after almost drowning is to apologize. It can't even understand me anyway. “I-I…the adrenaline—I'm trying.” I hope it doesn't suddenly get upset at my lack of movement.

I contemplate calling Rocky, even though I know I will be ruthlessly scolded if he finds me in the palm of this sea creature. He might not let me leave the ship ever again if he finds me like this.

Before I get the chance to decide my fate, large fingers are cupping around me, blocking out the sun. A squeak rips from my throat as I grip at its hand. We shift for a few moments, and then it and I are still again, and I'm lowered. He tilts his hand, and I brace as it opens its fingers, but once again I'm sitting on a soft surface.

He's flipped himself and dropped me onto his stomach as he leans back against the beach, a large sigh escaping him, his stomach rising and falling beneath me.

“O-oh. Thank you.” My voice quivers as I sit as still as possible. His skin is cool and feels very human other than the lack of heat. I look forward towards the ocean and see a long, fish-like tail making ripples in the water, lined with fins and many, many sharp teeth. That’s definitely an…odd feature.

Cautiously, I finally let myself look at him. His chin rested against his chest, long black curls plastered to his face in damp waves. Water droplets slide off the ends of them, tracing lines down his skin. The slits that were its irises were now dilated, fixated entirely on me—as if I were its prey—making me all the more tense.

If I were to tell anyone back on Earth that I had found an AT LEAST twenty-foot-tall fishman who looked almost perfectly human, I would have to explain how I got back to Earth. Then I would probably be swiftly institutionalized. How would human life even make it out here? It’s impossible. He had to have evolved just to look similar, right?

But it’s uncanny. Too human. Not a little off, well, other than the aquatic features, but his top half is a complete copy of human anatomy. The shape of his face, his hands, even just his posture. The way he looks at me like he understands more than he should.

I squint my eyes, scanning his body, trying to get a better look.

Its eyes open slightly at me, then its head rolls back, and its mouth opens. I withdraw as its long, prehensile tongue unfurls. It has teeth running up the left side of it, matching the long teeth along its cheek. Surely, that can’t be comfortable for him, pressing into his gums? Why evolve to have teeth on only one side of your tongue? Why teeth on tongue in general? Actually, why are there so many teeth all over him?

His arm lifts over me, blocking out the sun for a moment, and he plucks something small from the inside, then reaches forward with it pinched between his fingers.

He holds it out in front of me, water dripping from his wrist, then freezes, with an expectant look.

“Oh, is this for me?” I open my palms up, making a little cup, and he delicately drops another gift.

…they're my glasses.

Although a little slimy, they're shockingly not damaged. I thought they would be long gone, stolen by the waves or broken with his size, but he seemed to have taken careful care of them.

"T-thank you," I whisper once more while wiping them against my damp shorts.

He huffs in response, looking away with a blank look. I don't think he was quite ready to reveal himself to me yet; a pang of guilt fills my chest, even if all this was an accident.

Waaaait. He responded. I mean, kinda, but he reciprocated my sound. AND it helped when I asked earlier! Now was it out of just pure pity, and did he have no idea what I was talking about? Maybe!—But I’m definitely gonna find out!

"Look, I know I'm going to sound crazy, but…can you understand me?" My eyes shift back to his face, now framed by his black curls.

His eyes blink slowly for a moment, water droplets resting on his lashes, and then he nods.

I feel my chest tighten at the revelation. He can understand me AND knows human body language! Holy crap. Is he human? Not just some weirdly specific, human-looking evolved creature?

My glasses now dry, I place them on my face with an eager look, my hands gesturing out in front of me with anticipation and excitement.

“Holy crap, holy crap! You can understand me?!” I move to sit crisscross on his stomach while running a hand through my damp hair in shock.

He quirks an eyebrow but nods casually again, like that was the obvious answer.

“Oh my gosh, I have sooo many questions! Okay, okay, how did you get here? Well wait, hold on. I guess I should ask if you're human first. But how would a human get here anyway? Wait—how long have you been here—?” His face develops a worried and slightly overwhelmed expression, and I quickly stop my rambling.

Maybe it…can’t understand me?

He sits up slightly, then opens his lips. I can see its tongue folded together and large canines peeking through. Nothing other than a wheeze comes from him as he tries and fails to use said tongue to talk.

He furrows his brows, looking like he’s trying hard to concentrate. “Ahhghnn f-fehh…bahnm—.” He growls in what I think is frustration as he brings his hand up to his throat, and I hear his tail flick at the water behind, splashing water.

Umm. Okay. I hold up my hand, and it stops its next attempt, waiting for me. “So, I’m just taking a guess here: all the stuff going on in and around your mouth has affected your ability to speak? Is that correct?” I think I gotta stick to yes-or-no questions.

It nods again, with a grimace, flashing me those large teeth again.

YES! Good! Progress.

It holds its large hand up, and it's my turn to wait. This whole interaction reminds me of when I first met Rocky.

He shifts his hand out, palm down but hovering over his chest, then wiggles his fingers like he's drumming them on something. After that, he makes a mouth motion with his hand, opening and closing his fingers and thumb together, looking at me for a reaction.

Ah! Computer! …that talks? … Rocky’s translator!

Suddenly, with the strength I had been missing earlier, I scramble to my feet and slide off his tummy; I all but sprint to Hail Mary. He flinches and closely watches as I run away.

I snatch Rocky’s translator and turn back out, almost tripping in the process. He turns over to me, and I hold the device up in the air.

“Is this *huff* what you *huff* meant?” I wheeze, jogging back to him.

This time, a toothy smile crosses his face as he nods.

I come back over to him, toss the laptop onto him, then try to hoist myself back onto his torso. He squirms and quickly pushes me the rest of the way, much to my appreciation.

“Okay…soooo how are you going to make this work?” It's only calibrated for the Eridian language.

He closes his eyes as his chest puffs up, and then I hear it. He makes noises reminiscent of whale calls but maybe a bit deeper. Nothing shows up on the screen, but I stay silent. He furrows his brows again, then a deep tone bellows from his chest, this time with clicks like a dolphin. The translator doesn't speak what was said but only spells it on the screen.

<G-R-A-C>

It’s spelled out more than a fluent word, and it’s missing the silent 'E' indication, but it is clean enough Eridian for the translator to pick up.

He goes quiet, shifting uncomfortably, I'm assuming at the lack of expected response from the device. His eyes never leave my face; he looks almost nervous.

"You…you've learned my name?”

My name. Out of every sound Rocky and I made over the past few months…that was the one he decided was worth learning.

I'm not going to lie, I find it very endearing. He could have spent time learning many other words, more useful ones for communication. Although Rocky doesn't visit outside much, God knows he's a talker. I'm sure he could have picked up on others…but he decided to practice my name.

The thought of how long he spent worms its way into my brain. Days, maybe weeks of listening and then trying. He learned and practiced so that the first word he could ever say to me was my own name. I'm making this out to be more than it is, but I can't seem to help it. Maybe it's the loneliness.

His face seems to soften at the acknowledgment that he managed to get the words out through the translator. A relieved sigh pushes its way out of him, and he rolls his head back slightly as his whole body seems to relax.

“Well, aren’t you smart, Big Guy? Been practicing?” A gleeful smile washes over my face at how remarkably smart he is. He looks away quickly and nods again, his hair falling around his eyes.

“Can you do any other words?” He shakes his head with a clearly frustrated frown, and I notice how his hand clenches to a loose fist. I don’t blame him, though. The Eridian language is complicated, with many layers of sounds and cords. I am thoroughly impressed he was able to replicate my name with no prior knowledge about it whatsoever.

Rocky has not been outside much, so he must have been studying him as much as he could, picking out the repeating notes of my name as we talked and practiced the chords he was able to mimic. I’m sure to Rocky, Simon sounds off, like a robot— flat with no tone indication— but that’s all we need right now.

“You did amazing.” I praise his effort with a grin, gazing back up at him. He completely freezes in response as I pat his skin softly. He blinks a few times, and his body seems to loosen. He ducks his face behind his hair that's still dripping seawater, like he's embarrassed, but I catch a tiny smile anyway. He seems to melt into the sand, his body sinking in at his hard work being recognized, making me all the more happy myself. I giggle and add, “I’ll ask Rocky to help with ‘yes’ and ‘no’ next. Those will be the most useful.”

Right. Rocky. Getting him on board will be a challenge. He’s already wary and doesn’t trust him. My theory is that it’s more than likely Big Guy here could do some real damage to Rocky (and me) if he wanted, and technically, he's still unpredictable even if I trust him.

I lean back on my hands and look him up and down once more, now with a clearer mind and my heart rate at a normal speed. Missing an arm, but the stump is covered in teeth, much like the rest of his body. He’s got fins where humans' ears would be and is covered in scars and what looks like mutations of the sort.

Actually, I guess if he is human, all of these things are mutations, and I’m assuming his size is too.

His left eye is a deep crimson color like a ruby, while the other is dark brown. He’s got long, wavy black hair and sharp nails with webs between some of his fingers. Two large sets of three gills are on either side of his ribs, while another two sets sit on either side of his neck.

But I really notice how exhausted he looks. His eyes look so worn out with bags under them. The few smiles I’ve gotten seemed weak, almost pitiful. It's the kind of exhaustion that doesn't just come from missing a night's sleep. He's covered in scars and bruises, and some look fresh, a deep purple that hasn't yet turned yellow.

He cocks his head to the side again at my silent stare, raising an eyebrow. I decide to ignore that for now and shift to look back at his tail. It’s long, very long. I can’t see the end; the water gradually obscures it, but it glistens as the seawater evaporates. He’s got a long line of teeth that trails down from below his belly button, behind me, to the tail too. The teeth are interlocked, making me wonder if it’s a mouth of some sort.

“Hmmm. We should probably give you a nickname until you can let us know if or what your actual name is.” I state, turning my gaze to him again. “How aboooout…Mermaid!"

Mermaid’s eyes open in shock and are quickly replaced with annoyance. A scowl and exaggerated frown cross his face.

“What? Don't like it? I think it's pretty fitting," I tease. “At least I gave you a name after a beautiful ocean creature and not literally just a rock as I did with Rocky. You should give me some credit for my amazing creativity.” Rocky is still not over that, by the way.

Mermaid glares, some wavy strands of hair falling over his face, but I notice the corners of his mouth turned up slightly in amusement. Rolling his eyes, he tilts over and starts lazily drawing lines into the sand.

“S-I-M-O-N” is spelled in chunky letters across the dark beach. Why didn't I think of that?

Hold on…he can spell too! Spell human English!

Excitement sparks so suddenly in my chest that I almost laugh out loud. My gaze flicks from the name scratched into the sand back to his face, and I have to force my reaction down, smoothing my expression into something casual.

“Oh, yeah, that works too!” I say, though my voice comes out a little too high and a little too fast. “Simon. What a lovely name. Fun fact: that name means ‘to pay attention or listen’ in Hebrew and Greek origins.” His face morphs into a blank, almost worried look as he starts to fidget with his hand, the atmosphere around him changing slightly.

I smile awkwardly, scratching the back of my neck, sensing I may have said something he didn't like. “Which is kinda funny since that's what you've been doing this entire time we've been here, listening to me and Rocky talk and all buuuut I think we should keep the nickname anyway!” He shoots another glare back, settling in his original spot.

His hand moves up to rest across his chest, and I can't help but stare at the mutated limb. There is webbing between his pinky, ring, and middle fingers, but not between his pointer and thumb. Maybe this is to keep his grip more flexible and tactile?

I can't help myself. "Uhm, could I have a look?” I request, pointing to his hand. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, obviously! You're just very…different—not in a bad way, though!” I reassure him, and more awkward laughter spills from my lips. He seems reluctant but carefully picks it up, pushing it my way.

Simon doesn't lay it out for me but instead holds a fingertip out and hesitates a foot away from my head. I wonder if he's asking for my permission. I don't move. Only after a few tense seconds does he gently brush at my hair, just barely. As though I would break if he used any more pressure at all.

I freeze up and close my eyes, trying to relax into the first human affection I've felt in years. It drifted lower, following the curve of my temple before nudging my glasses crooked before softly pressing into my cheek. It's like he can’t believe I'm real, checking to make sure, which, to be fair, is kinda what I'm doing too.

I cup the big claw on his finger and rub it with my palm. He stops abruptly, and I blink my eyes open. Simon’s got a frazzled expression, like he just realized what he was doing. He pulls away and rests his hand out flat, palm down, in front of me, which I think is an invitation to touch.

Crawling forward, I push his ring and middle finger apart and grab at the webbed membrane in between. He jumps slightly but makes no other movements or sounds. Tracing down it, I can see the blood vessel flowing beneath the skin. I watch as visible goosebumps run up his arm at my touch, and then he shivers, shaking me off balance a little.

I glance up. "Sorry. That didn't hurt, right?”

Simon shakes his head but pulls his hand back. Guess he thought that was enough, though; he doesn’t try to move me off or retreat to the water.

I reach down and curl my fingers into his skin, giving it a light squeeze and tug, feeling the muscles twitch underneath. It's pretty cool but not as cold as before. Maybe he's one of those creatures that soaks up heat from the sun to regulate his temperature.

Then I swipe both hands across his stomach again, trying to brush off the sand I tracked up here and get a better feel for the texture, but the moment I do, his whole body jerks to the side. I tumble to the right as I feel him squirm. When I look back up to his face, I freeze.

He's smiling. Not the tiny grins I've caught before but a full, clumsy, lopsided smile. It looks a little awkward on him, and he bites his lip as if trying to keep it from slipping any wider.

No way.

“Are you ticklish?” I laugh a little, astonished.

Simon’s eyes go wide. His arm comes up fast, almost defensively, to slap over his smile as his cheeks warm to a rosy red color in response. He shakes his head vigorously in response, making the wet strands of hair shift across his face. He's not a very good liar, is he?

I scoot forward onto my knees and place my hands on his lower stomach, pressing in and leaning my body weight into it. His whole body jolts beneath me with a startled squeak. His eyes screw shut while his shoulders tremble.

I pull back and try a different approach, dragging my fingertips in broad, teasing strokes over his skin. That gets me a stronger reaction immediately—his head starts shaking, and he wiggles his hips side to side as if he were trying to escape the sensation without actually moving away.

“Oh my gosh,” I tease, grinning up at him, “The big scary sea monster is ticklish?” I watch as his blush deepens, creeping down the sides of his neck, disappearing beneath the nearest set of gills. Silent giggles shake through his shoulders, visible even when he tries to swallow them down.

I crawl farther up his torso a little, meaning to keep testing this newly found sensitivity and find his belly button but…

I freeze.

Hold on.

I'm kneeling…on him. It’s weirdly intimate, like I'm sitting on someone's lap except somehow so much worse because he's also a giant beautiful ocean creature and I'm very aware of every inch of contact. How did we even get here? My face warms slightly as the sudden very weird closeness hits.

Simon seems to focus back down on me, noticing my sudden lack of movement. His face falters, searching my own for a reaction.

“Oh uh,” I say, trying and failing to sound casual. “This situation is kind of…weird, isn’t it?" I timidly laugh, gazing back up at him.

He goes still for a moment, just staring at me. Then he actually laughs out loud, his hand slipping from his mouth, crinkles forming around his eyes. I guess he finds it just as ridiculous as I do, and to be honest, my awkwardness evaporates at the sound of Simon’s laughter.

It's rough and broken. Almost wheezy, but it's laughter. Maybe a little strained, like he hasn't laughed in a while. I guess there wouldn't be much to laugh at while stranded on a planet, mutated beyond anything any human has ever seen.

His laughter slows when I realize I don't want it to stop. Human laughter, not played in a movie or video. Laughter I can feel. I hadn't realized how much I missed it until now. It's been so long since I've heard another actual human person laugh, so long since I've been able to touch another human, and I'm not going to let my nervousness get in the way now.

So I grin and lean back in, place my hand on either side of his navel and scratch roughly at his skin, like I'm digging for more of that amazing laughter.

“EEHAHahah p-phehehah—AH!!” The bright laughter pours out of him in frantic, breathy bursts as he starts to squirm. I see his arm jerk upward and then falter, as if he's fighting the instinct to swat me away, which I greatly appreciate. I buzz into his flesh as he arches up in response, making me lurch forward with a yelp, and one of my hands slips forward into his belly button. He lets out a startled screech and jerks harder, while he bucks up.

“HIHIHEHEHAH *SNRK* OHAhahheh kahah-MEHEHEE!” Frantic laughter spills from his lips, and it almost sounds like he's still trying to speak, albeit through his giggles. I wonder if he’s meaning to do that or if it’s just out of instinct.

Cautiously, I watch as his arm flies down to me, stops halfway, and then flies back up to grip his messy hair tightly, likely trying to anchor himself for my sake. As I pull away and sit back up, I can't help but laugh along with him, a little stunned at how contagious his laughter is.

“Wow Big Guy, I didn’t expect—“

“What Grace doing, question?!” Rocky yelps from the beach below.

Oh shoot.

His laugh was loud, so it's not surprising that Rocky heard him. He jumps at Rocky’s sudden appearance, a lopsided smile still on his face as he looks at the alien. Much to my surprise, he doesn’t actually seem all that concerned with him, which I am VERY relieved by. Rocky, on the other hand, sounds absolutely horrified. And Angry. Probably at me.

"Um…well, I was just finally being introduced to—“

“No! Grace come back now! Dangerous! Monster could eat Grace! Kill Grace!” He scurries over while holding a leg over his carapace like a scorpion, as if he could fight Simon himself. “Grace stupid stupid stupid!”

“Rocky! Hold on. It’s fine—he wasn’t doing anything.” I try to reassure him, but more furious clicking and a low rumble like a growl erupt from his carapace as he creeps closer to Simon’s side.

Simon turns over at Rocky and holds out his hand, seemingly inviting him on too, and Rocky, the alien that always has something to say, for once in his life, seems to be at a loss for words at the gesture.

“See? He’s okay. He hasn't done anything." Rocky steps onto Simon’s palm with obvious reluctance, and Simon lowers him beside me on his stomach. I breathe out, a little shakily. “...actually, um, I think he just saved my life.”

“How…monster save Grace life, question? What Grace doing that dangerous, question?! Grace need babysitter, question?!” Bombarding me, he starts grabbing and twisting me in his hold, looking for injuries. Maybe I should have left that part out.

“No, no, sorry. The tide just swept me away—BUT Mermaid saved me. Brought me right back here.” I glance up at Simon, then back to Rocky. “Doesn’t he look insanely human? I'm pretty sure he is.”

His claws finally let go of me as I change the subject, seemingly relaxing after hearing I’m okay.

“Yes. Very human.” He says almost in awe, clicking to get a better view. “Word is name, question?”

"Nickname I gave him; his actual name is Simon. Mermaids are technically sea monsters, half human, half fish. Lots of folklore and mythology around them. They are usually depicted as very beautiful and are very popular in human media," I clarify, gesturing to the long shiny tail behind us. “What do you think, Rock? Good nickname?”

“Yes. Creature very pretty. Half fish. Good name, statement.” Simon gets noticeably flustered at Rocky's compliment, looking to me like it was my fault he said it. Not sure it was intentional, but it is high praise coming from Rocky. He's got a LOT of opinions on how humans look and function.

“He already understands English and human body language. OH—Rocky, oh my gosh, he’s even ticklish like humans.” I feel his abs tense up under us as I mention the word, making me smirk back up at him. "Isn't that right, Big Guy?”

Although his face has gone back to the same stoic look, it starts getting noticeably more red again, and he shakes his head frantically while holding his hand up in defense. His breath hitches, and his lips start to tremble into a smile.

“Oh, you can't lie around here, bud; Rocky can hear your heartbeat. We'll know." The corners of his mouth twitch upwards more, his eyes darting from me to Rocky, while gnawing at his lip again, trying to fight that lovely smile once more.

I turn to Rocky, waiting for an answer but only see him raise three claws above himself, then slam them down hard into his flesh. Simon barks out another laugh. It’s louder this time but clearer, like he’s finally getting used to his own laughter.

“Pfft-hehehmhm—AH-ACKAHAHAHEhehe—!!”

“Hm. Is true. Interesting.” I kneel back down and scratch at his skin, poking in hard here and there. We bob up and down as he sucks his stomach in at every laugh. “Does not speak, question?”

“Nope. He can't. He has a prehensile tongue with teeth growing along its side, as well as teeth on that side of his mouth and cheek." I hear his tail start to wiggle in the water behind me, splashing against the tide. “But those things don’t get in the way of laughing, do they, Simon?”

“FahAHEHehe b-behehe! AH–NAHAHhahaa!” He starts to hide his giddy expression in the crook of his arm, turning his head to the side, hiding the bright smile he clearly can't suppress. Despite his size, he’s kinda adorable.

“Why translator here, question?” I stop my clawing and pull the translator into my lap, eager to share.

“He was able to mimic your Eridian language to say my name, well, mostly. He can make sounds like some animals on Earth! They have a different vocal range than humans, so that's why he was able to manage it.” Opening another tab, I play back the sound he made for Rocky.

He waits a moment, then reaches over and hits a button, letting the sounds play once more.

“Hm...very smart creature!” And to emphasize his point, he suddenly digs his claws in, rubbing and scratching harder at Simon's belly with enthusiastic force. “Good!”

“EEEHAHAHehehe n-nahaha *snrk* pfft-hehahaHAHAHAHAH-EH—!!!” He flinches at the new and much rougher sensation, throwing his head back as his hand shoots down to the beach below, grabbing fistfuls of sand.

His laughter turns pitchy and frantic, so loud I can feel it reverberate through me. He tries to curl inward, but his arm seems not to be cooperating with him as he flops back down, squirming helplessly under Rocky's touch.

“Are you giving him tummy rubs?” I ask, chuckling.

“Yes!” Rocky sounds pleased with himself. “For good work! Very smart. This affection tickle reward.” Simon’s tail starts slapping loudly at the water behind us in clear distress, sending little sprays of seawater up around the sand. “Also save Grace. Bring my Grace back to Rocky. Extra good! Extra tickles!”

“I don't know if he sees it that way, Rock.” I smile, looking up to his beet-red face and tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Although he still looks a little worn out, his face looks bright, actually full of life now, in a way it hadn't before.

“Why question? Grace like tickle tummy rub.”

My own face goes hot at that, and I sputter, half-embarrassed and half-offended. Why would he say that out loud in front of the only other human here? I hope Simon is too distracted to understand Rocky’s commentary on my personal interests.

“Wha-no I don’t…” mumbling, I force an offended look on my face. “Well, either way, you can’t just assume that every human likes that.” I try to explain as Simon squirms about under us.

This is the downside to being the only human an alien knows. Every little thing you may like is now the standard for any and all humans to them. Even if it’s weird or niche, that’s what the whole human race is into. Although the alien can’t judge you because it has nothing to compare you to, so if you look at it that way, it’s not so bad.

“Mammal like pets. Grace creature mammal. Creature like tummy pets.” He states it like it’s obvious. Great, now he's comparing us to cats and dogs. “Could move away. Very big. Strong. Stay here for pets!” He emphasizes by inching closer to his hip, claws squeezing in, pulling more loud and frantic snorts from Simon.

“He could just be worried about hurting us, Rock. That's not really an indication he likes it.” I know I’m arguing about not tickling the snot out of this human creature; deep down I don’t want Rocky to stop. His laughter rings out between the three of us, making me feel just as giddy as Simon looks.

"Creature been alone for how long, question?” Rocky shoots back, “Is starving for touch. Is good and healthy for human creature. Like Grace." He actually sounds like he's arguing his points now, debating me on the subject.

I go quiet.

I haven't really thought about how long he could have been alone this whole time. Like me without any human interaction. Months, maybe years? I wonder if he gave up on ever finding anyone ever again, succumbing to this planet and its isolation. I reach a hand down, just softly rubbing at his skin, soothingly. It’s been so long for me too.

I frown. “Okay, yes, that was something I struggled with, and you were able to help, but you still need to ask for permission, Rocky. It's rude." My other hand quickly shoots down to stabilize me as Simon starts to twist more, his defenses crumbling apart with every laugh.

“Grace ask creature first, question?” His chords are laced with knowing amusement.

And, annoyingly, he’s got me.

I didn’t. Not really. I asked to look at his hand. Then got swept up in everything else.

"Well, n-no, but that's not the point—”

“Is point! Creature allow Grace tickle with no permission. Rocky can tickle with no permission.” My eyes widen as I watch Rocky make his way up Simon’s left side and start poking at the gills that rest there. Arching up with a squeal, Simon starts to roll over onto that side, clawing weakly against the sand.

I quickly grab the translator, holding it above in the air, and scramble to my feet. “Wait! The laptop can't get sand in it!" I yelp, trying to move with his body so I don't fall. He manages to steel himself for a moment so that I can balance myself, but then Rocky's claws must have hit a sensitive spot, and he breaks into fresh, frantic cackles.

I scramble to balance myself on his back, as he flops onto his stomach completely, shaking his head against the beach. He wiggles in the sand, his arm reaching under him, gripping at his opposite side.

“Rocky, you all good?” I ask, looking to the back of Simon’s head, silky locks flowing down his back.

“Yes! <Mermaid> have vents, like Rocky,” he answers, popping out from under his arm. He crawls his way up so he's level but immediately starts grabbing at the part of his gills that wrap around to his back, making them close defensively as loud shrieking laughter breaks out from Simon’s mouth.

I glance to my left and spot the huge spines running down his back and into his tail. I reach out in awe and slide my hand over them. They’re enormous. Ridge upon ridge of sharp finlike spines, different from the webbing between his fingers—more delicate-looking, but still rigid beneath the skin. The volcanic sand clings to him and catches the sunlight, making his back glimmer warm black beneath us.

“GAHAhahehe! HmhmheHAHA—!!!” He rolls back and forth; uncontrollable giggles escape from his lips. His hand feebly reaches behind, feeling for Rocky and me. Unfortunately, I think this is our sign to stop.

“Okay, okay, Rocky, no more; we don't want to kill him.” I reluctantly pull away from the spines, even though I would love to get a better look at them, and turn to get off.

“Will not kill. Grace dramatic, statement.” Though he does, with no other comments, rolling off the side with a thunk as he hits the sand below.

Simon gives a twitchy little flinch, drawing in on himself as I slide down his side, soft squeaks leaking out of him in nervous bursts. I hurry over to Simon’s face, Rocky trailing close behind me.

“You okay, Mermaid?” I chuckle, seeing his face smooshed into the sand, taking in deep, unsteady breaths. He nods, his bright red face melting into the beach.

“Good.” I sigh, leaning against his arm slightly.

After a few heavy breaths, he pushes himself up onto one elbow. Then his expression shifts so quickly that my stomach drops. His gaze sharpens, locking onto Rocky and me, and I’m abruptly reminded that I absolutely did NOT ask permission and that he may, in fact, be just a tad upset with us.

He flings his arm out slightly, knocking me off of him. Although Rocky doesn't move, I stagger back as his hand comes at me.

“Uhh, sorry—please don’t hurt us—!!” I squeak, the words tumbling out in panic as he presses me down into the sand with one finger and knocks the laptop from my hands. So much for keeping sand out of it. “L-look, we’re sorry! I really didn’t mean anything bad—EEAH!”

His finger presses into my stomach and starts rubbing there in slow, lazy circles, then scrapes lightly back and forth, the sensation electrifying my nerves.

“Nohoho wahAHAIT!” I squeal, kicking up sand as laughter bursts out of me. His fingertip presses in a little more, seemingly testing the pressure.

“NAHahaha Rohohocky heheHEHELP!” I gasp, twisting helplessly beneath him, breathless pleas tumbling from my mouth.

My head flings over at him through the haze of giggles, and he only seems to settle into the warm beach. “Is Grace fault for not asking first,” he states simply. What a traitor! He was the one who was scared Somon would attack me this entire time, and the moment it happens, he’s just sitting there, enjoying the show!

I immediately focus my attention back up at the giant currently reducing me to a wigging puddle in the sand. His eyes narrow slightly, his pupils dilating more, and the intensity of his stare makes me feel even smaller, even more exposed. Heat floods my face in embarrassment, and I try to hide it while also fighting his finger at the same time, which is not remotely a winning strategy.

“MERHEHER-maid p-plehehease—EHIHEHAHAHHA—!!!” I shriek as a sharp claw drags slowly up my side and settles under my arm, scratching there with maddening delicacy. I try to bring my elbow down, but his strength allows him to push right past, worming his nail into the sensitive spot. The feather-light touch is somehow worse than anything rougher would be.

He frowns with a huff at the nickname. Guess he's still not a fan.

His fingers pause, and for a brief second I think I might be spared. I take the chance to twist onto my stomach, pulling my arms in tight beneath me in a defensive curl. I flop face-first into the sand with a breathless giggle, and then freeze all over again as the same claw traces slowly down my spine.

The touch is impossibly gentle, every inch of it deliberate. The tip drags in a thin, maddening line that makes my back arch before I can stop it. My whole body jerks in response, and I let out a squeaky, helpless sound as I try to twist away, kicking frantically at the sand.

“NAHOHOhohoo nohaht theHEHERER—OHOHO GOHOSH!!!” I hear light squeaky chuckles at my expense from Rocky behind me as Simon’s nail shifts again, climbing back up and stopping right between my shoulder blades, where it nudges and teases just enough to keep me squirming without ever letting up.

“SIHIHIMON NAHohoho *snrk* mohohore!! I-I dihihiDN'T MEHEAN—ACKAHAHEHEhehe—!!!” I yelp into the sand as he starts poking at my side again, sending tingly jolts up my side.

Then, ever so gently, he pushes me back over onto my back, and his finger squishes into my stomach again, rubbing my skin softly. The irritation in his face softens, and a small smile finally takes over his features.

…Oh my gosh. He’s tickling and giving belly rubs back.

I thought he was too distracted even to hear what we were talking about! Rocky is sooo gonna get it when we get back to Mary, I swear- embarrassing me in front of the only other human I’ll probably ever meet again, and I just know Rocky is absolutely never going to let me live this down either.

But…some embarrassingly soft part of me realizes that it feels nice too — warm, affectionate, oddly careful, like he’s not trying to overwhelm me, just to get me squirming.

Though, I would never, ever admit it.

My face practically ignites with embarrassment, scrambling to latch onto his finger and push it away. He lifts it back slightly, then presses the tip of his nail back down, maddeningly swiping back and forth.

“AH-NAHAhaha I-I’m sohoHOHORY—HEHAHAHAH—!!!” I gasp, laughter cutting through my apology.

Then, apparently taking some pity on me, he moves his finger to my head instead and pets through my hair. He ruffles it up, then smooths it back down with surprising care before trailing his finger under my chin. He’s much more touchy than I expected, especially after stalking us for months. Maybe Rocky was right; maybe he's been craving physical touch just as much as I have.

“SIMOhohon! Nohoho *snrk* mohohore!” Yanking my shoulders to my ears, I slap weakly at his claw. He traces softly up around my ear then back down under my chin, pulling helpless giggles from me.

I glance up, still flushed and breathless, and see the fond smile on his face as he rubs lightly at my neck. Thank goodness he isn’t mad. His eyes flick to Rocky, and with one last teasing scratch beneath my chin, he finally lets go.

Simon reaches that same finger down, startling Rocky, and an alarmed whistle escapes him. He starts slow, petting along Rocky’s carapace, but the only reaction he gets is pleased purring and a few happy chirps in return.

With a disappointed hum, Simon tilts his head to the side with a raised brow, giving me a quick look.

“You gotta get his joints,” I smirk as Rocky jolts up at my voice. He immediately pushes his claw back down, tracing along where one of his legs and body meet.

“GRAHACE?!? Nohoho!” Rocky squirms beneath Simon’s fingertips, squeaky trills spilling out of him in frantic bursts as he tries to struggle free.

“Yes~ You didn’t want to help me, so I decided to help Simon here get some revenge.” And revenge for embarrassing me. I chuckle with amusement evident in my voice, sitting back up and wiping sand off of my face and glasses. “It's Rocky's fault for tickling him more,” I tease, using his own words against him.

Simon looks awfully happy with himself, a pleased grin beaming down at Rocky. He looks so much happier than he did before. His head shifts closer, getting a clear look at the little alien in his grasp. Rocky pushes back, scrambling against the sand, away from his prodding touches.

“Grahahace! Hehehelp *chrip* Rohocky! CreHEHEAture attahahacking R-ROHOHOCKY!” I roll my eyes. If anyone here is dramatic, it’s him.

I observe the scene as Simon easily flips the 300+ lb alien like he weighs nothing at all, then drags a finger along the side of his carapace and forces his legs upward with another teasing scratch underneath his joints. Rocky’s arms straightened out, his little claws grabbing helplessly at the air. Simon snickers, pulling more squeaky trills and pleas from him as a hiss of steam comes from Rocky in return.

I grab the laptop, brushing the fine sand away. I pray a quick clean will be enough. I can get by without it for Rocky after all this time; now that Simon's here and proven he can use it, I need it up and running properly.

A sudden squeal pulls my attention back. I look up and see Rocky has latched tightly onto Simon’s finger, clinging to it kinda like a koala.

Simon shakes his hand slightly, but Rocky doesn’t budge, just residual giggly trills escaping him with puffs of steam curling in the air. He stares for a moment, blinking a few times when a sly smile comes to his face. He opens his mouth slowly, bringing Rocky closer.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Rocky move faster in my life. With a startled squeal, he scrambles into Simon’s palm and disappears beneath his closed fingers.

Simon lets out a snort and flips his palm over, rubbing his thumb against Rocky’s carapace in a soothing manner, as if he were petting a baby mouse in his hand.

“Creature mean to Rocky. Pretend to eat.” He huffs, but more low purrs come from the attention when clearly leaning into his delicate touch, undermining any anger in his chords. He really took a one-eighty on Simon, from yelling at me this morning to quite literally melting in his hand.

I smile and ease myself down into the sand, letting the warm grains shift beneath me as I glance over at the two of them. It feels good to laugh, and even better to hear someone laugh because of me.

We’ve been sitting here, stranded, while Rocky stays busy with the ship, and I’ve had too much time alone with my own thoughts.

But now there’s another person—I have another human now. My chest flickers warm at the thought, a bright excitement spreading through me as I imagine the future. I’m almost eager to be stranded if it means I get to talk with Simon all day the way I have since we crashed, only this time, I’m hoping he responds.

Simon sets Rocky back down beside me, then leans his head into his arm as a cushion, a soft, content smile lingering on his mouth as he watches us. Rocky settles deeper into the sand, tucking three of his arms beneath himself while the other two fidget in the grains. From Simon's direction, a low purr begins to rise, faint at first, then steady and warm, and despite everything, I can feel my own mouth twitch into a smile.

My gaze drifts to the horizon as I push my glasses to the bridge of my nose, to the rings and the moon hanging there in pale light, and the sight is accompanied by the soft sounds of waves crashing on the shoreline.

Everything seems so okay—good even…then a thought comes, quiet and merciless.

He's human. Conscious. Aware of me, of Rocky, of the fact that we’re stranded here with no one coming to save us. He knows we're repairing the ship; he's had to hear us talking about it by now. He understands enough to know we're leaving, if we can, that is. He understands what leaving means.

…

That there's no way to bring him with us.

His size—he's just too large. The realization twists through me, ruining this lovely moment.

We—no, I would be abandoning the only other human I’ll ever see again on this horrid planet, leaving him behind to spend the rest of his life alone.

It almost feels cruel that we crashed here, giving him a taste of human interaction, maybe even hope, before ripping it from his hands once again. Cruel is how I would describe everything.

𖥔 I really do hope you all like it!! I'm thinking of doing some other fics in this AU that should be canonically connected hehe also, another thanks to ❤︎⁠ @awkward---as---hell ❤︎⁠ for being such a wonderful person and helping me with this!!! 𖥔

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