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Getting used to the new environment had taken him years. That was the problem with space— nothing could be perfectly replicated. Earth was unique, and beautiful. That had been the conclusion Ryland had come to when he sat alone late into the night, staring out the opaque confines of the tunnels built for him.
When his hair began to grey, it hadn't meant much to anyone other than him. Rocky hadn't noticed, not that he could. He had barely understood what Grace meant when he said that some people have different colours and textures of hair. That humans would lose hair and those who kept their hair— it would get long and need to be cut.
When he had trouble walking, it was easy to give him a cane. It was made of Xenonite and carved with the constellation Sol was part of. The earth round beneath his fingers. Art, in the simplest Eridian form. And just a small piece of home to lean on each morning.
The Eridians were good at meeting his needs. When he said he needed vitamin D, a solar lamp was quickly made- perfect for plants, perfect for him. When he said he needed more iron, they were quick to compensate.
But as he grew older he found that some things didn't come so easily.
On Earth, he was good at being alone. Loneliness was safe. Go to work, do your job, love your job. And there was the human interaction that one needed to get by.
The human interaction.
He got past the initial need for humans around him on the Hail Mary. He had Rocky, after all... And the impending doom of humanity on his shoulder.
He told himself I can go home whenever I want. Just a few more months...
Months turned into years. And years turned into aching bones, greying hair and eyesight that wasn't the same anymore.
And when Grace had stumbled over Eridian and asked Rocky to repeat himself a few times more- that's when Rocky knew something was wrong.
This wasn't the same as Rocky teasing him because he could hear a few more clicks in his bones when he hobbled through the tunnels. Grace had actually forgotten. And after two or three reminders to a word he should know without much thought, Rocky's humour about the fragility of human beings faded with it.
The growing old part was easy to accept. Eridians, though more capable of longer life spans, still aged. And when anything with a brain aged, it would deteriorate, and anything organic would struggle. So he knew that Grace was aging.
When his fingers couldn't play the organ anymore for lessons- getting a translator was easy. When he needed a little extra help doing his daily things, robots intervened. Built to be gentle and helpful for Ryland. When his eyesight grew worse, that was a little trickier. But they learned how to make stronger prescription glasses for him.
When he had to sit more often, sleep more often. It was easy to watch over him. To wait for him to catch his breath.
But when Ryland woke up one morning and panicked, not knowing where he was. That was not easy.
Rocky, when he'd returned from the fiasco with the astrophage, he'd found a warm welcome for them both. Eridians were reasonable- Grace had helped save their species and their planet. They would do anything it took to keep him alive and as healthy as they could manage it. And in turn, they'd been grateful that he'd teach them more about the universe that they were lacking.
The option to go home had always been there. But what frustrated Rocky was that it was only on Grace's terms.
Ryland was sick. And it was like a domino effect when it happened. One confusion led to another and before they knew it, he was tapering with doorways and airlocks- nearly stepping out of the environment they'd built for him where he could survive.
It wasn't an option anymore. He had to go home. Someone had to take him there.
And what of humans, question? An Eridian leader had asked. We are not human. What if not safe for Eridian, question? Who will go, question?
And what a ridiculous question it was. Rocky knew it would be him. It had to be him. Risk or not, there was a need and Rocky knew his friend.
Adrian understood. Adrian was a patient Eridian. Rocky would return and Adrian knew that.
But Rocky didn't know what to do with himself when the ship was presented and in the fleeting moments of clarity- he told Ryland what the plan was- because Ryland seemed relieved.
Rocky could understand. There were moments with his aging friend, what he knew the confusion was breaking him down. He was suffering. He needed to be with his own people.
The complications came with the journey. And there were a lot of questions. Grace was delicate, and these several years in space would be difficult. He might have been coma resistent, but at this age it was nearly a guarantee that he wouldn't survive another coma.
So the option was, keep him awake.
That had whole new complications. Ryland was struggling, and Rocky still couldn't touch him. They could solve the two atmosphere problems on a ship and give both of them plenty of room. But when it came to being in a spaceship for years, much interference had to be made with machines. Guidance, help. All of it done remotely.
It was strangely nostalgic. Being back where they'd began. Just the two of them on a spaceship, only this time it was with far less learning and laugher. This time it was Grace's own Hail Mary. A struggle to get him home and get him help that only other human hands could provide.
It was not easy. Not a single thing about that trip. Not every trip and fall and confused morning and night that passed. Not the struggles in translation or the shaking hands when Ryland told him about how beautiful Earth was. How he would love it when he got there. How much of it he wanted Rocky to see.
On Eridian before they left, the biggest question they had was Would Grace make it Home?
By God, Rocky was determined he would.
It seemed hopeful. The struggles were worth it, when Grace would get excited again. When his brain would do the amazing things he knew he could do, like figuring out where they were on their journey or how fast they were going.
Other times, he wondered. When Ryland slept for a little longer than before or when he was struggling.
But hope came when Ryland could see Sol approaching and knew they were almost there. When he seemed like his old self, and didn't stop talking for a moment to Rocky about his best memories on the pale blue dot in the distance. He talked about school, to the time he broke his leg as a kid Rock climbing.
Hope came back. Ryland was getting better for a short moment. Maybe just being home was all he needed for Rocky to get his friend back.
He watched him lay down for rest, and youth seemed to touch his voice when he did.
And he watched him sleep... Watched as his breaths evened out. And the moment they stopped all together.
Earth was beautiful. There were many layers to the stone and the plants that could never grown on Erid. The smell was soft and floral. And the humans, they were overwhelmingly happy to see him.
Ryland would have liked to learn how similar Eridian and Human rituals were around death, he might think. How they honour them then bury them. It had only been in passing that Ryland mentioned that he had wanted to be buried back on earth. That something about his body belonged to the planet he called home.
Music, and questions from inside his little glass ball, all seemed familiar enough. And the humans were kind about the loss. What Rocky was enduring, even if they had to learn that this large alien could feel human emotions at all.
He was grateful the headstone had carved his name, and he could see it in his own language... And down below carved the chord and notes for a simple Eridian word.
Friend.
Many things were hard. But pulling away and returning home, that was the hardest. He'd stayed long enough to tell Grace's story. Talked a long time to a girl, he came to find out was one of his students. Abby, he thinks her name was. Smart girl, and very quick to pick up his language just enough to really understand what he wanted to say.
He told her how he'd been brave. How he'd saved not one species, but two. How he figured out how to survive on Erid. And how big of a hole there would be in the universe without him.
She understood, he thinks. She told him that Grace was the reason she was sitting there today. That when Earth had gone to shit and the sun was fading- that she remembered his lessons and did what she could to help.
He was happy she'd been a friend, however short his time was on earth. And she was the last one to say goodbye when he left for home again.
It was quiet, the journey. And he didn't have the heart to tear down the things out in place to support Ryland. In a way, he could almost pretend he was there, poking away at something or rambling about something Rocky knew or didn't know. Lighting up when he spoke...
And when Sol grew too distant to see, that's when Rocky sagged. When he accepted the end, and hummed in quiet and low succession...
"Goodbye, Grace."