#I have so many new serials i wanna start but I'm keeping my workload light for my mental health

[sio-writes]

Botanist's Guide: Chapter 14

<<Chapter 13

<<<Chapter 1

Summary: Cassandra Rowland, PhD, finally has the chance to work on an experiment that really matters: growing Earth crops on another planet. But too many overdue reports and marked failures have put her in hot water with the board, and this is her last chance at redemption. So when she finds herself railroaded by a seven foot tall, glowing alien named Kri, it won’t be as easy as sticking some seeds in the soil and running them under the tap. Tack on the looming repossession of her lab contingent on her success in Kri’s reports, and Cassie realizes she may have her work cut out for her.

Tags: past death and unhealthy grieving mentioned

Kri

I wake up feeling troubled and anxious, from the moment I open my eyes, the memories of the day before come rushing in. Cassie had lost the most important thing in her life less than thirty hours ago, and I gently nudged her towards my home only because I know how it feels to wake up alone after a major life event. I'd fully intended to stay respectful and sleep on the couch, but the temptation to guard over my beautiful human was too great. I can hardly refuse Cassie on any normal day, let alone one where her watering eyes threatened to spill over if I didn’t sleep beside her.

So this morning I wake up on my back with her draped over my side, her arm across my chest and a leg thrown possessively over my hips. Her limbs are a weight over my body that centers me, grounds me in the present and relaxes my muscles. I could stay here for hours. 

She’s a quiet sleeper, only the rise and fall of her back indicates her breathing. Her other hand is tangled in the pillows behind me, and her free leg is sticking out of the basket, which tells me that she likes to spread out like a flower when she sleeps. Hanging nests are meant to act as a cocoon, providing safety in an enclosed space; they're not meant for much else outside of sleeping, unlike human beds that seem to act as a second living room. Cassie wouldn't be comfortable here in the long term, and I briefly wonder if I could handle sleeping on a mattress for the rest of my life. 

I think I could, for her.

It's tempting to remain in the nest all day. My body certainly agrees. Even buckled under the stress of not knowing what today will bring, I find it hard to see past the fact that Cassie is sleeping on top of me. The bottom of her thigh is pressing deliciously against my groin plates, her whole body is against mine and I'm washed in the smell of her lavender-scented hair products, my favorite of Earth's smells, floral and light. As I take a deep inhale of her hair, I consider what to do next. 

I enjoy her presence here, and I want to keep her with me as long as she can stand. I’ll need to get her a change of clothes, provide food, and think of distractions she can pick from instead of trodding back to an empty greenhouse.

That's when I realize that it's early, too early for the day to start, but I know what woke me up. Sleeping on my back has cut the circulation to my wings, and an uncomfortable numbness has started to spread from the tips and stretch its fingers all the way down my spine. Usually I can ignore it, but it's begun to hinge on painful, and it’s probably that encroaching pain that woke me up. But I won't move with my Cassie laying on top of me.

To distract myself, I brush away a stray curl laying delicately over her brow, fascinated as it springs back to its original position the moment I let go. Human hair is endlessly fascinating, unique to the individual it grows on. Cassie's moves like she does, bouncy and energetic, begging my fingers to run through it even now in the dark. I know humans can put color in their hair, and I wonder if that's the case with her. It blends from a light yellow at the ends to nearly black as it reaches her head, and in the greenhouse in the afternoon, it catches the light and she turns into the sun. 

Cassie stirs but doesn’t wake, only rolls to her opposite side and blindly feels for a pillow that she holds to her chest.

Using the brief opportunity of freedom, I carefully and quietly get out of my nest and to my feet. It’s a balancing act of maintaining myself upright and keeping the rocking of the basket to a minimum, but the moment I’m up, I feel my circulation returning. I roll both my primary and secondary shoulders and shake the feeling back into my wings as I step around the nest and to the couch.

After Cassie received the news of her lab being shut down, I’d been working on instinct to keep her from collapsing so I could bring her back here. I couldn't let her fall into a depression, I needed to take care of her. But it’s the next morning now, she’s going to wake up soon, and I need a plan that extends beyond the bounds of this apartment. 

I rub my face with my primary hands as I sit on the couch, letting my head fall into my palms. Beside me, Cassie stirs again, but only to shift her weight and grab for another pillow. 

I don't know how she's going to react, and that troubles me. I'm not good at preparing for the unknown, the sudden. 

Unfortunately, I only have my own experience with tragedy to call upon. I believe the human term goes something like, “a trip down memory road," and it’s not a trip I particularly want to take, but if my own experience can help Cassie through hers, then I’ll weather through the murky waters of my memories.

The first week after Vles’ death is a haze. Between planning their funeral, moving to Outpost #3, and working around the rampant denial that they were gone, I was stretched in too many directions. Months before their death we'd planned the ceremony, but they'd only focused on where they’d be resting— at Outpost #7 or home in Lethien, as there was more paperwork to fill out for one than the other.

Afterwards, everything else was left to me - notifying family, arranging services, being physically and emotionally available for all the sympathy and heartfelt conversations. I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't string together enough words to even be polite. I'd had to clear out the remnants of a life extinguished too soon, and all I’d wanted to do was break into that basement where the humans keep chilled remains so I could lay next to Vles for the next year and a half.

Cassie will likely be at a similar low. It hurts in my chest to think of the pain she's going to feel. The lab was her everything, her whole world. She based her self-worth in her work, and to be told it wasn't enough? I can’t imagine.

If it were up to me, I’d move Cassie here, keep her close so I could watch over her and be nearby in case anything happens. I’d feel much better if she did. But that’s a future conversation, so I put it on a back shelf in my mind, and dig into my brain for ways to care for her.

Ari came to my rescue. They’d tried to distract me when all I wanted to do was melt into the floor. They brought me food and kept me on a schedule and essentially made all my decisions for me when I was struggling just to stay conscious without the aid of alcohol. I can't do anything about the notifications or other people or whatever torrent of feeling she's going to experience on waking up, but there are certain things I can mitigate to make her life easier. Cassie’s situation is wholly different from mine, but I know she’s going to wake up disoriented, upset, and probably in denial. That, I can work with. 

Food, I should make her food. 

The past week following our coupling has given me more than enough time to research human habits and culture. I wanted to be knowledgeable to be a better partner, but maybe what I learned can help in this too. My research on meals brought up that certain foods are only consumed at certain times, which is incredibly strange, but I'll see what I can manage. It's approaching morning, so I believe it's break-fast time.

A quick search in my food-cooling box only tells me that I need to go out for more food. It's empty and pathetic looking. The same is said for the pantry, and the freezing-box. The humans were very nice for bringing us this technology alternative to store food, but I wish I had a replicator on-hand. It's much more convenient for quick meals instead of cooking-- ingredients are added and food comes out, whereas with this box food just goes in and stays cold. As much as I enjoy making food for Cassie, I need something quick and easy.

After another cursory glance in the cooling-box, I pull out a pink klen loaf and a container of sweet mixed berries. It's not ideal, but this will have to do. 

As quietly as possible I search through my bag and pull out my mobile device. It still has a bit of power remaining, so I message Ari to find Jillie so I can get Cassie a change of clothes. It’s likely that Ari isn’t awake yet, but they’ll see the message when they do wake up. I remember where Cassie’s apartment is, but I’m reluctant to leave her alone here. Not because I distrust her, but if she wakes up in a strange place on her own, it may send her into a panic.

Ari responds much faster than I’d thought they would. I’ll text Jillie :)

It takes me an embarrassing amount of time to realize that Ari is using the Earth slang for "message." Even typed in Universal it looks odd.

Thank you.

Keep me updated, yes?

Yes.

I need to brush up on my Earth-English dialect, if I’m to keep up with the humans, or perhaps just one in particular.

My device buzzes again, but I ignore it in favor of turning towards the kitchen. As I’m placing the berries into a bowl, Cassie stirs again, waking up with a long groan that I want to memorize for when I’m alone. Then I hear her inhale sharply and the basket jostles as she sits upright, and likely gathers her bearings, before she blows a relieved note through her lips. I can see her shock of pale yellow hair above the rim of the basket, a little off-kilter from sleep, and as she sits up I’m met with her pale brown forehead, and then her gorgeous blue eyes.

In Igrien, which feels so long ago, she had asked me my favorite color, and I’d answered honestly. The blue of a clear sky, or the ocean. It’s the color of her eyes, a lovely coincidence that only adds to my attraction to her.

And she’s happy to see me, I hope, because her eyes crinkle and she breathes out my name, “Kri!”

She easily tips herself out of the basket, a feat I’m surprised by but pleasantly so, and she shivers at the cold tile under her feet. She keeps her eyes on me, though, padding across the floor and into the kitchen to wrap her arms around my middle and bury her face into my shoulder.

“Please tell me yesterday was a horrible dream, and I’m here because we had mind-blowing sex.”

I smooth a hand over her hair. “I wouldn’t lie to you like that.”

“Yeah,” she breathes against my chest. “You only lie by omission.”

She’s coping with humor, but the statement still stings. I wouldn’t take back our time in the lab for anything, but I wish the circumstances had been better. At least, if she’s making jokes at my expense she’s not wallowing.

"I'm sorry, that was mean," she says quickly, looking up at me with her cheeks puffed out. Adorable. 

"Unforgivable," I tease, smoothing a primary hand over her poofy hair and pressing my lips to her forehead so she knows that I'm joking. 

Kissing is another import from Earth, and one I enjoy very much. Humans lack the humming vocalizations we use to express affection, they can't even hear half our speech patterns, but they make up for it with other physical touches. Hugging and kissing, casual touch or even just standing a bit too close to let the other know they’re there.

I’d asked Ari for advice on the subject when I was sorting through my feelings for Cassie, and after they'd stopped laughing at my expense, they'd directed me to the on-line Archive with human films and given me a list to watch. 

"Take these things with a grain of salt, 'Asxu," they'd said as if I understood the meaning of that phrase, sitting next to me on the couch as the first film started. They'd brought some corn-based Earth snack with them, claiming it to be a staple in watching films with someone else. It made my apartment smell of butter and salt, and it was very tasty. "Most Earth movies tend to exaggerate or misrepresent. Unless you're watching a documentary, and not even those are completely impartial."

"So why are we watching these instead of a documentary?" 

"The specific type of documentary you're looking for is considered pornography, and there's very little of that in The Archive. Also these are more entertaining. They tell stories!" 

We'd sat through several films, some good and others very confusing, and I took so many mental notes that my head began to throb. The headaches were worth it, though, when I finally got to kiss Cassie and she didn't push me away in disgust. 

I'm glad Cassie is so receptive to my touch. I enjoy being able to confirm her presence, to feel her under my fingers. 

"I don't have much," I say, stepping away from her embrace and into the kitchen. "But you should eat something." 

Her eyes spark with recognition when she spies the klen loaf, and again at the bowl of berries next to it. "You made me breakfast. We didn't even have sex last night." 

"'Make' is hardly the word I would use," I say, ignoring the other part of her comment. 

"Do you have any coffee?" 

"...Is that a food item?" 

Her smile is tired, making me feel like I've failed. "That's a no, then."

I push my failure aside and watch while she eats, although I don't know what I'm looking for. Abnormalities in behavior? Expressions of disgust? 

Mostly I think of what needs to be done soon. The lab will need to be emptied and cleaned, the greenhouse as well. I can take several of the smaller plants to my apartment without worry, but Ari may have a tough time smuggling any out of the Outpost to place in their personal greenhouse. Perhaps I should ask if they plan to take any at all. 

The difficulty of the situation begins to bog me down, that is, until Cassie reaches for my hand and gives my fingers a reassuring squeeze. 

"You're clicking again." 

I frown in confusion. "Clicking?" 

"That noise you make," she says. "You do it when you're thinking, I think."

Ah, the plate shifting, that's what she means. It's been so frequent the past few weeks I hardly even hear it anymore. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" she asks, squeezing my hand again. She smiles when my frown deepens. "I'm asking what you're thinking about.

There's no point in keeping it a secret. "I'm worried about you." 

"I'm fine," she says casually, shrugging. "I just woke up, so nothing's hitting yet." 

I wait as finishes eating and hands me the bowl. I step to the sink and run the water to wash it off, trying to organize my thoughts once again. Behind me, Cassie takes a deep inhale and then makes a noise of disgust. 

"I should head out. I need a shower," she says, and I nearly drop the bowl in my hands. She can't go, not yet, not when she may collapse. I can't let that happen. 

"You're welcome to use mine," I offer quickly, nodding towards the bathroom.

She shifts from foot to foot as she regards each option, and I try not to smile when she steps towards my bathroom. She stops before entering, and as she opens her mouth to speak, there's a knock at the door.

Cassie and I are equally surprised to see both Jillie and Ari at the door. They were faster than I thought, and I'm glad I asked for extra clothes. After several polite minutes of assuring both that we are alright and making plans for dinner at a later date, they finally left us in peace.

Cassie only turns her back to the closed door, rests her weight on it, and slides downwards until she is sitting on the floor. Her eyes are closed, and her expression is tight and agitated, and I can see tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

I place myself next to her, unable to mimic her legs in their crossed positions and choosing to extend them out. Offering her my primary hand, I try to give her an encouraging smile, but by the expression she returns, I may as well be lying. She looks lost, hopeless, and afraid.

When I was lost, I found that direction from others helped calm the torrent. "Would you like to keep eating, or would you like to bathe now?" 

Her returning smile is small, but I can feel her gratitude through it. "I should wash up, but I don't want to be alone."

I've heard of this-- human pack bonding in times of grief. I'd read about it during a seminar on their behavior. She wants my company so she won't fall into a state of panic while alone in a strange place. 

I'm doing very well at this "boyfriend" thing, I think. 

She starts the water and reaches up to unbutton her shirt, but then hesitates.

“You need to wait.”

“Why?”

“So I can actually shower before we, uh,” she trails off, and it hits me. 

I raise my brow. "You want to have sex. Now."

Cassie makes an odd expression, like I'm a distant object and she's trying to determine how much time she has before impact. "Boy, what--" she starts, gathers herself, and flaps her arms. "I dunno! Maybe? I thought it would…distraction," she trails off and looks down at the floor. That awful, hopeless expression flickers over her face again, and I feel my resolve crumble.

A step forward, and I take one of her hands in mine. Her palm is round, just like the rest of her, slightly cool and light brown. I keep my voice very low so it won't echo off the tile and make me listen to what I'm about to say as I squeeze her hand. "Alright."

For the second time, Cassie smiles at me, and my heart leaps in my chest.