Stellar date (Earth Time): 07-26-2914
Levi didn't die. He got a nasty bruise across his back, a mild concussion, and a fractured tibia, all of which could be fixed in a few days with the technology we had on board and some rest.
I didn't even wait for him to wake up. The moment I got the diagnosis from Naomi I ran for the observatory. I even changed the passcode on my door so it was doubly locked. No overriding here, the observatory was my domain. With nothing else to do in my self-imposed isolation, I even managed to figure out the programming that would summon up a cafeteria bot, something none of us had ever bothered to do because it was ten times easier just to go get the food ourselves than to navigate the clunky A.I. through the halls and stairs, and that's without spilling the food. For some reason they were never able to program the idea of keeping food from mixing in a robot. Not a problem with tin foil wrapped burritos.
So I was a coward and a fan of Mexican food. Shoot me. My friend almost got killed by an alien that then tried to rape me, I think that's plenty excuse to hide. I came out to space to avoid people, not get a whole new set of drama.
It didn't bring me the peace I so desired, though. Anxiety clung to my back like a sticky monkey. I'd explained to Naomi about Gilrack's instinct-seizures before running here, even hinting about Gilrack's confession—because what was my shame in the face of someone's life? But that didn't mean she would listen. One of Gilrack's kind had killed her husband and then mauled her brother. Who the hell would stay reasonable after that?
Part of me wanted to bring Gilrack with me into my fish bowl and lock him in for safety, but before I could even move to the door my limbs would seize up and my head fill with the memory of how big and monstrous he'd been over me, how dark his eyes, the heat of his thoughts, the press of his member against my thighs. Then my bitten shoulder would give a low throb.
He had said a bite was a sign of affection. 'Big like' and 'friend' had been his words, but I suspected those had been mistranslations on my part. It was more than obvious what it meant now, and a ghost of uncertainty haunted in the attic of my mind where I refused to acknowledge it, even as my hips ached and I longed for steak.
My usual pastimes ran out sooner than they usually would have. I couldn't focus on my novels, my paintings grew strained, every star and nebula looked the same through the glass. I found myself fidgeting with my messy futon, fixing it up over and over again and daydreaming of pillows and soft blankets I'd seen back on Earth. At some point I even though of attacking the walls and floors with paint, only to shake myself loose with the realization that I was slowly going crazy, but it seemed less frightening than whatever mess I'd left outside.
For all my buffness I loved to brag about, for how big and manly and strong my body, I was a flighty as a sheltered school girl, and it ashamed me.
When Naomi finally let Levi leave the bed he came to my door, probably because I'd turned off my com.
The door speaker gave a tiny pop before his voice broke the almost imperceptible hum of the observatory.
"How long are you planning on hiding in there?"
I rubbed my face like a hamster and waddled over to the door com.
I pushed the invoice button. "Forever."
There was a brief pause before Levi's voice popped up from the speaker as though he were right there, making me jump. Just how close was he talking into it?
"It's not your fault and I'm not going to kill the alien, though I will shoot him a few times once he comes out. We're sending him down to Vetas once we do."
I leaned my forehead against the speakers frame and sighed, not wanting to label the ache those words made me feel. I'd been suspecting that Gilrack had deliberately been pretending not to learn the controls of the escape pod, but now that was become more of a certainty. We should have sent him down a long time ago, even if it meant risking him crashing, burning, and dying, but I couldn't bring myself to agree with that cold logic. His face was too human. His arms too sure. His thoughts too warm and worshiping.
The speaker popped to life again.
"What did he do to you?"
I recoiled from the speaker and retreated to the other side of the observatory, where it would be harder to hear Levi's voice.
I should deal with that. I hadn't always been like this. I'd once been sure and confident. Why else would I be so good at faking it to Levi and Naomi?
But one can only be strong for so long, and I'd broken long before coming here.
I hated myself.
Days passed. I managed to make myself respond enough to Levi's and Naomi's calls to get their promise that Gilrack really would be sent back to his planet rather than killed, and I suspected it was in part that Naomi had convinced Levi they'd be the ones to most likely die rather than Gilrack if they made an attempt. Bullets were somehow absorbed into his flesh, his healing rate was three times that of a human, he was huge, fanged, clawed, and poisonous. Naomi was a little old lady and Levi was no Rambo. But I also hoped that there was some fondness in Naomi's heart that moved her to show mercy to Gilrack.
This calmed my anxiety enough to focus on my novels. I even got some old shows and movies rolling. I gave in to my urge to paint the walls by covering them in equations for black hold mechanics and light speed that I'd learned by heart in college before coming here. They were useless, as the computer of any space shuttle for long distance flight would do it for us and I'd most likely be in cold sleep, but the way the numbers fell into place, like blocks that fit together just right, soothed the frustration of my heart and gave me the numbness to admit the truth.
I didn't want Gilrack to leave.
Seven days in I started waking up in the middle of the night with hunger pangs. Instead of ordering the cafeteria robot, I used the opportunity of everyone being asleep to get food myself and take showers back in my quarter. Once or twice I passed by Josh's old lab where Gilrack nested and hesitated. Fear always made me move on.
About two weeks of my hermitage, I had just warmed up to talking with Levi and Naomi again over the coms when Naomi came knocking hard on my door.
"Jo, he isn't eating."
I stopped mid-brush stroke of blue across an ocean I'd never see again. "Gilrack?"
"I think...we managed to open the door and tried to give him food, but he just—he lashes out at us, Jo, but now he's not even responding."
The unsaid words hovered in the air like neon.
We all knew I was the only one Gilrack would let approach. He'd imprinted on me or whatever.
My heart clenched so painfully, I had to hold my breath as I asked, "Is he still alive?"
"Yes, but not for long. A human would have starved to death by now."
I bit my lip, but was already inputting the pass code into the door.
When it slid open, the sight of both Levi and Naomi greeted me. I didn't realize how much I had missed them until I saw them again, and it made my eyes water. Naomi looked grim, though Levi's expression as at his default stony blankness. It reminded me of the day I'd arrived here.
I followed them to a dispensary, where Naomi downloaded a simple protein based gruel usually used as some sort of breakfast cereal. She handed it to me before we headed off down the hall towards Josh's old plant lab.
I didn't wait to be invited. I pressed the door com button.
"Gilrack? It's me, Jo."
Quiet greeted us. Just as I feared the worst, a faint familiar warmth brushed against my thoughts.
I opened the door and stepped in. All I saw was a mass of leathery wings domed over a ball on blankets. It was just like when he'd been sick in the brig, except the coloring of his skin had paled to gray salmon.
I should have probably taken it slow, but I found myself rushing to his side, a bit of the gruel spilling on my thumb.
"Gilrack? Hey, buddy, let me see you. I brought you food."
The wings didn't so much as twitch. After a tense minute of rolling my bottom lip beneath my teeth and growing more alarmed, I dared to reach out and pull back a wing.
He had visibly thinned. Gone was the frightening muscles. Where his skin was purple, such as on his extremities and tail, had darkened, and the red had turned to salmon like his wings. He didn't seem to have the strength to lift his heavy horned head as his dull ocher eyes flickered open to look at me. A whispery low croon echoed in his throat and more warmth brushed against my mind, though his mouth didn't open.
"Has eaten or drunk anything since...?" I asked.
"Not that I know of. The cameras don't show anything," said Naomi.
"At least he feels sorry," grumbled Levi. It was the most sympathy Gilrack would ever get from him.
Something about the brush against my mind and the way he looked at me told me this wasn't just about guilt. There was despair in there, dark, heavy, and bland the taste of one's own spit in their mouth.
Something equally warm bubbled up in my chest in response to the touch of his thoughts. My eyes started to burn as I reached out to stroke Gilrack's hollowed cheek.
"Hey," I said, soft and aching. "I know you didn't mean to. You've done really well for being in a completely new world with new people who haven't exactly made you feel safe. You're away from all you know, and...and I freaked out too, but I know you didn't want to hurt me. You even stopped the moment you felt my fear."
His eyes had closed as I spoke and he'd moved his face as best he could in his weak state to press against my palm.
"You're okay, Gilrack. It's all okay. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left you like that."
I pulled away to rescue the spoon from drowning in the protein gruel and Gilrack gave a low whine.
"I'm not going anywhere, buddy. Can you open your mouth? You need to eat some."
His yellow eyes looked into mine for a long moment, pupils sluggishly tightening enough to focus on what he was seeing, before he opened his mouth, being visibly careful to hide his fangs. He probably worried I feared them now.
I smiled to reassure him then put the first spoonful in. It was awkward with him laying on his side, but he was a big enough creature to have a big enough mouth to catch all the gruel in his cheek and swallow it down.
"Taste alright?"
He didn't bother with human expressions, but sent me a thin line of so-so disgust.
"Well, if you want something better you got to get your stomach used to food again. Which means eating all of this." I held out another spoon.
He opened his mouth without complaint and swallowed it down. The feelings that brushed against my mind gave me the image of him prostrating himself on his back, neck bared in complete submission. I knew, in that moment, Gilrack would eat anything I gave him, even if it made him sick, which was a mite concerning. But Naomi knew enough of his biology by now to not give me anything that would do such.
"One bowl every three hours should probably do the trick," said Naomi from the doorway, sounding visibly relieved. "Sho, Lev, you're just going to stress him out."
"Stress him out?" he said in disbelief. "Fuck, woman, I'm the one that almost died."
"You said so yourself that you've survived worse, where's all that bravado now? What, you going to whine about your age again?"
"...Bitch."
"Jackass," but she said it fondly.
Then they left, leaving me alone for the first time in sixteen days with Gilrack, which surprised both of us.
I got a telepathic note of concern.
"I'm okay," I said, then added, "Well, you did scare me, but, well..." I put another spoonful into his mouth. "We're going to get over that. Kay? That's what friends do. They make up for offending each other, help them feel better when their upset, work through disagreements, all that jazz. And, well, we're still friends." Despite him wanting to be more.
He blinked very slowly. The yellow of his eyes seemed to be just a bit brighter.
"It's what makes relationships strong, you know. Working through scary things like this. What doesn't break the friendship makes it stronger and all that jazz. Good crap, you did a number on yourself. Is that hair? Did you lose some of your hair? Gilrack, what are you without your poofy mane?"
He gave me a weak smile.
"D-d-divine..." he croaked.
I knew I'd misheard. How I'd made out a word at all through his all rumble and gravel water-deprived voice was just my imagination.
"Don't do this again, yeah?"
He swallowed yet another spoonful of bland protein gruel.
"Yes."