#homesickness

You sat curled up in the corner of the lounge, arms wrapped around your knees, staring blankly at the passing cosmos. It had been weeks since your planet—if you could even call it that—ceased to exist. And yet, here you were, feeling homesick for a place that had never been kind to you.

The realization sat like a weight in your chest. You weren’t sure which part of it disturbed you more—that you missed a planet that had been nothing but cruel, or that a part of you still longed for the familiarity of it.

"Alright, spill," March's voice cut through the silence as she plopped down next to you, her hair bouncing with the motion. "You've been looking extra gloomy lately, and I am not letting you sit here brooding in the dark like some tragic protagonist."

You huffed, half-heartedly nudging her away with your shoulder. "I'm fine."

March scoffed, unimpressed. "That’s exactly what people say when they’re not fine. Do you know how many times Dan Heng has said that to me? Too many." She crossed her arms. "So, what's up?"

You hesitated, fingers tightening around your sleeves. "...It’s stupid."

"Try me."

A long pause. Then, barely above a whisper:

"I think I miss home."

March blinked. "Okay? That’s normal."

"No, it's not," you said quickly, frustration creeping into your voice. "My home was awful. It was cruel, and dangerous, and—" You exhaled sharply. "It wasn’t even really a home. So why do I feel like this?"

March’s expression softened, and instead of giving you some overly cheerful, misguided attempt at comfort, she just... sat with you.

"You know," she said after a moment, "just because a place was bad doesn’t mean it didn’t shape you. Maybe you're not missing the planet itself, but… I dunno, the version of you that lived there? The things that made you you?"

You stared at her. "That’s… surprisingly insightful."

March grinned. "Hey! I can be deep when I wanna be!"

You rolled your eyes, but some of the weight in your chest lightened.

"Hey," Caelus said, dropping into the seat across from you. "March said you're sad."

You groaned. "Of course she did."

He tilted his head. "Do you want to commit crimes about it?"

That made you pause. "...What?"

"You know," he gestured vaguely, "harmless crimes. Stealing extra desserts from the kitchen. Sneaking into Dan Heng’s archive room. Rearranging Sunday’s books just to mess with him."

You snorted. "That's... that’s stupid."

"It is," he agreed. "But it works."

You bit your lip. You did like the sound of stealing extra desserts. "...Fine. One crime."

Caelus grinned. "That's the spirit."

Dan Heng was a quiet presence, but a comforting one. He didn't pry, didn't push—he simply sat beside you in the archive room, flipping through a book as you stared at the ceiling.

"You’re allowed to miss what was familiar," he said eventually, not looking up from the pages.

You glanced at him. "Even if it was terrible?"

"Even then."

You hesitated. "...Does it make me weak?"

He finally met your gaze, expression unreadable but steady. "No," he said simply. "It makes you human."

For some reason, that made your throat feel tight.

Himeko made you tea. It was warm, fragrant, and soothing in a way that made your chest ache. She didn’t say much at first—just sat with you, letting the silence stretch until you were ready to speak.

When you finally did, she listened. Really listened.

When you were done, she placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"You deserved better than what you had," she said softly. "And you deserve to heal, too."

Your fingers curled around the teacup. "I don’t know how."

"That’s okay," she assured you. "You don’t have to figure it out alone."

Welt found you staring out the window again.

"You remind me of someone," he said, stepping up beside you.

You glanced at him. "Yeah?"

He nodded, eyes distant. "Someone who lost their home. Someone who didn’t know how to grieve for it."

You swallowed. "And what happened to them?"

Welt exhaled, gaze steady. "They found a new one."

Something about the certainty in his voice made your chest feel lighter.

You weren’t expecting Sunday to approach you. In fact, when he sat down across from you, you instinctively tensed.

"You seem down," he said in that airy, detached tone of his. "Would you like to talk about it?"

You blinked at him. Then, deadpan:

"Did you not just almost kill my friends while trying to revive an Aeon? Like... a week ago?? The hell are you suddenly acting like a saint for?"

Sunday chuckled softly, wings fluttering. "Fair."

You narrowed your eyes. "So? Why do you care?"

A pause. Then, quietly:

"Because I understand."

You frowned. "...Understand what?"

He glanced at the stars. "What it feels like to mourn something that was never kind to you. To feel lost between what was and what could be."

You weren’t sure how to respond to that.

Sunday tilted his head, studying you. "You’re not wrong about me. I am no saint. But even someone like me can recognize pain when they see it."

You looked away, arms tightening around yourself. "...I don’t know what to do with it."

Sunday exhaled softly. "You let it exist. And then, one day at a time, you learn to carry it."

For once, you didn’t have a sharp remark.

Instead, you just sat there, staring at the stars.

And for the first time in a while, you didn’t feel entirely alone.

I know I should be focusing on the fact that I get to go home, but knowing I might get to see Earth again one day doesn't change the fact that I miss it so badly I feel like I'm going to throw up again.

I miss my kids, I miss San Francisco, I miss diners, I miss seeing my friends, I miss my coworkers, I miss teaching, I miss those microwave meals that really weren't that good and ended in my tongue being burnt more often than not. I miss the routine and normalcy of everything. Maybe I didn't have the most exciting life before Astrophage, but I loved it. I liked having down time, I liked when the only bad decisions I was making was eating out a little too much, I liked when my biggest problem was when one of my students didn't understand a key concept and the test was the next day. I liked when I wasn't solely responsible for the fate of my planet.

It's not the worst, though. I get to do things no other human has. I'm the first person to be at another solar system, and I'm the first person to analyze the alien microorganisms that are here. I'm the first person to make contact with an intelligent alien species, I'm the first person to learn an alien language, I'm the first person to study the biology of an alien macroorganism. I'm the first person to have an alien best friend. Is that depressing? Maybe. I just wish I wasn't so alone.

I wonder a lot about what everything would have been like if I wasn't the only survivor of the trip. All of this would've been so much easier if Yáo and Ilyukhina were here. They weren't given the amnesia drug, plus this ship is actually made for them. They really couldn't have put a little more effort to make the ship just a little more accessible for the person who was going to be spending the rest of his life on it? I couldn't count on my hands the number of times Rocky had asked me to turn off some alarm or alert I didn't know was playing because I can't see through the ceiling from the lab to the screens of the control room.

Rocky's really made everything so much better. Maybe it's just that we don't have anyone else, but I'm closer with him than I was with anyone else back on Earth. I guess it's easier to tell someone about yourself when they don't know enough about your species to have any prejudices against you. But part of it's also just…Rocky. He's smart and he's kind and he's funny and maybe a little weird but I love it, I really do.

Just then, something touches my side and I nearly jump out of my skin. Speak of the devil and he shall appear, or whatever.

I look to my left and Rocky's in his container with two hands up in an apology.

"Sorry! Sorry! Did not mean to scare!" He signs.

This has happened a few times before. Times when I got too overwhelmed or panicky or too close to a meltdown and had to take the translator off before I damaged it out of stress. Times when I needed some time to feel as little as possible, so I didn't completely shut down. Rocky knows these are times when he needs to sign or tap to talk to me. And, ever the nerd about aliens, he usually chooses to sign.

His grammar is sometimes so bad I have to make an effort to not laugh, and it can get a little confusing with his lack of a face and fingers per hand, but I don't care. I've taught kids who were the only deaf people in the town they were born in and grew up making their own sign language with their families, only to move to the city and have to re-learn a lot. I've also worked with kids who sign at the speed of light or with thick southern drawls, so the way Rocky signs isn't too hard to understand after you get used to it.

I smile. "It's okay." I uncurl myself from the ball I'd been sitting in for the last…however many minutes I've been sitting on the floor of the lab. I need to start being sad in the dormitory. This floor is too dang hard to be sitting on this long. I rub my eyes and sit up. "Hi, Rocky."

"Hello Grace. Are you okay, question?"

"Just a little homesick." I shrugged.

"Not understand last word. Do not like home, question?"

"Oh!" How has that not come up yet? Although, it's interesting he thought it literally meant being sick of your home. It makes sense, that's exactly what it looks like it should mean. I just never thought of it like that. "No, it's…it's when you miss your home so much you feel sick. Well—it's not always your home. Sometimes it's a person, or a specific time in your life. It's missing something you can't go back to."

"Understand. Tell you my word later."

"Are you homesick too?"

"Yes. For home and also person. Miss Adrian."

I nod. I was lucky enough that I didn't have any super meaningful or close relationships, I can't imagine being away from someone you literally mated with for life for so long. "Do you want to tell me about them?"

"Do not have words. Not translation issue. Do not know how to put feeling into words."

"I know what you mean." I nod.

"You have person you miss, question?"

"I miss my students, but I don't have anyone like Adrian."

"Why, question?"

Ah.

"I never liked anyone that much, I guess. I got along with people fine, most of the time. But that's not new. I've never really liked people like that. I tried, but I didn't like it and it didn't end well. Just not my thing." I picked at my fingernails.

"Other humans like you, question?"

"Yeah, definitely. The majority of people will find a partner for life the same way Eridians do, but there's a lot of people who never do. There's also a lot of people who are like me but think that they have to find a "mate" anyways."

"Why those humans do something they don't want, question?"

I shrug. "They don't realise it's not an option. But a lot of people also choose to spend their lives with a friend and never find a mate."

"Humans are very interesting. Thank for explaining."

"It's nice to talk about it actually. Most humans would think I'm odd for the way I am or I'm something that needs fixing."

"Do not like those humans."

I snort. "Yeah, I don't like them much either."

"You say some humans have close friend but no mate. Am I close friend to you, question?"

There's a waver in his hands that makes me think he was nervous to ask. "Of course. I never…I never got along with anyone on Earth the same way I do with you. I'm more comfortable as myself around you than I ever was around other humans."

There's a moment where Rocky doesn't say anything, and worry creeps up my throat as I wonder if, maybe, that was a really really weird thing to say.

"Feel same to you."

"Really?"

"Had friends and had Adrian on Erid, but you do not judge me for me. Some things I am and I do strange to friends and Adrian. Friends and Adrian not rude, never rude, but difference is obvious sometimes. Judge is not right word for what you do. You find me odd but as alien, not as person. It is interesting to see differences, not rude. We are different species, differences are expected. Comforting to know you will not be mad that I am me."

…Wow. Millions and millions of years of divergent evolution and yet, here we are. Two aliens, who have almost nothing in common biologically, bonding over the same feeling.

"You know that I didn't want to come here. But even though I was basically…sent to my death, there's a part of me that's glad I was sent out here because I met you. Sometimes I think that if some things hadn't gone wrong for you, you wouldn't have been here for so long and you would've found a solution and left before I arrived. I'm glad I met you, despite, you know, everything else."

Rocky kind of leans against me—at least, he tries to in his xenonite ball.

"Maybe would have met you anyways. Maybe even if crew survived and technology worked, Eridians not able to figure out solution. Maybe only way both Earth and Erid saved is if Eridians and humans work together."

"Maybe." I sigh. "I would have loved to meet your crew."

"Would have loved to meet your crew. Many many things could be different. But at least I meet you."

"Yeah…yeah."

"Still sad, question?"

I chuckle and rest my head on the wall. "A little. I don't think I'll ever stop missing Earth. But I'm not as sad as I was earlier. You're quite the therapist."

"Not understand last word."

"It's not important. Just…thank you for knowing me for me."

He wiggles. "Thank for same reason. Glad you are here. Glad I am here at same time, you go back to Earth!"

"Yeah, who knows? Maybe if this all works, one of my students will help me save Sol." I stretch a bit, my back's starting to complain.

"Maybe."

"Rocky?"

"Yes, question?"

"Thank you for saving me." I know he'll think I'm only talking about him sending me home. He might not ever know he kept me going more times than I can remember. But I don't really want to tell him that. I don't want him to be more worried than he already is for me. An alien is worried about me. Sometimes I have to just roll with some of the crazy things so I don't go insane.

"Always. Would save you always."