Chapter Text
Simon pretends he hasn’t woken up. The nightmares still happened every night, but the one he’s just been pulled from was almost beautiful. Not like the terrifying, haunting beauty of that red eye, and not like the blood-tainted memories of Eden. He felt free at the end, or something close to it. But it was still a nightmare, so that cacophony followed him in the only place he couldnt try to destroy it. He wonders if that nightmare was really any worse than what waited for him in the waking world. David could be dead, or he could be healthy and angry. Both scared him. He squeezes his eyes shut. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could fall back asleep in the lights of the medical room.
He gives up after a little while and sits up. He’d gone to bed with the seedling pendant clutched in his hand so hard it ached. He misses not knowing any better. Maybe it's sick, but he wasn’t suffering like this when he was mindlessly killing.
He stuffs the pendant back into the sheath he’d forgotten to take off. He can’t even remember choosing to fall asleep. He slowly climbs out of bed, as if it would prevent a consequence for what he’d done in the manufactured night. Maybe he could lock the door faster than anyone could unlock it. But he’d die in here without food and water. The water, he remembers the bucket, and rushes to find it. The water is stained with red, but not enough to look like blood. There’s a little scrap of what used to be a printed log from the SM-8, one that Simon had read.
“I know it’s not enough, but it's what I could collect.” Whatever that meant. The handwriting of the wax was neat and thin, and the letters slanted a little to the right. Who left this? Maybe Jack, but he couldn’t imagine the man writing like this; he’d have probably said something that Simon wouldn’t realize was a joke. And he doubted the neatness could have come from him either.
He grabs the bucket and throws the bloodied water down the drain. It made him feel a little guilty for wasting it, but he didn't know how much anyone could drink before something bad happened. He’d tasted enough of it. His mind slips to wonder about David, but he shakes the thoughts off as fast as they come. Does Ava already know? He needs to find out.
He feels nauseous when he sets foot in the terminal room, more than he did on the walk there. At least David wasn’t present; maybe he wasn’t even out of that room yet. How long would it take before Simon would have to keep away from him?
Ava is standing in front of a tall screen, where a map of nothing but darkness is overlaid by green coordinates and crossing lines.
“Captain.” Simon calls, trying to get her attention. She snaps her head away and turns to him, taking a large step forward. He takes one back.
“Yes?”
“How is…” Should he even admit he knows? Ava isn’t stupid, and she was the only other witness; there would be no point in denying it.
“I have no input on it.” She states, casually enough, that Simon wonders if she even knows what hes done.
“You- why not?” She should be upset.
“You saw an issue and did something about it, other than the lack of cleanup i have nothing to complain about.” She’s not saying everything. Simon is starting to learn how she looks when she lies. She becomes too serious, too still.
“I shouldn’t have-” He can't understand, shouldn't she be angry with him?
“Simon. It wasn’t protocol, but neither was me locking him in there. One of those choices kept him alive.” Ava sounds disappointed. Was it because Simon had done something dangerous or because she hadn't? How should he know the difference?
“Is he mad?” Do I need to hide?
“He’s livid. But, at least he has the energy to be.” Ava responds, going back to stare at the screen. Simon thinks of the seedling in his sheath and about what she asked him.
“I have another question.” She turns back.
“If you had the seedling, where would it go?” Ava looks surprised by the question. She goes to the keyboard of the main terminal and types some things in, pulling up what looks to be a map of the ship.
“We have two offshoot ships, one of them is old, so old it has a pit of soil and old tech cluttering it up,” She explains, zooming into the small vessel drawn out in a pixelated green, “The L-2, It would be planted here and the door would be locked at all times unless you or i need access.” Simon nods, hand coming up to grip the sheath as he sighs.
“L-2?” He asks. It sounds more like a moon’s name than a ship.
“The first ships the COI made for ships like this one were labeled with a letter and a number zero through ninety-nine. As I said, they’re old.” He nods again. Ava is smart, objectively, and even though she had lied to him for so long, Simon still wants to believe her. To trust her. If he gave her that seed, it might be safer in her hands. But the idea of letting the COI have it made him sick.
“Are you gonna tell anyone about it?” He asks, so quiet he fears he might have to repeat it.
“No, i dont think the COI would approve either way. They don’t give a shit about those ships anymore, they’re basically counterweights for the main ship by now.” He looks around the room to find that it's empty. He wraps the cord around his fingers and pulls it out of the sheath.
“What if it doesn't work?” He asks.
“Then I’ll hand you back the seed and look for new answers. I don’t want to take it from you, Simon.” He shoves it back into the sheath and tries to relax the way he’s standing.
“It’s your choice.” Ava adds. He nods and makes his way out of the terminal room.
Simon thinks about locking himself in the medical room until the COI comes to collect and kill him. That’s what they’ll do if he doesn’t come up with anything. Why couldn’t he just have let the man die? That would have been the easiest way out of all of this. He groans and rubs at his eyes; he doesn’t mean that.
He stops in his tracks in front of the other medical room. He places his wrist to the door, and it unlocks. He shouldn’t still have those permissions, it's been long enough hasnt it? Simon shakes his head; he can worry in a moment.
When he pushes the door open, Simon could swear he is looking at a corpse. There’s blood drying to a warm brown on David’s clothes, and he still looks sickly. His arms are exposed, and the flesh of them is warped and scarred, but there are no wounds. None anywhere. Simon squints and stares until he catches David taking a breath. The man was asleep. Simon exhales, lungs aching from a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in.
“Hello?” Simon says, nearly whispering. David doesn’t stir. He can’t figure out how he feels about that, about any of this. Someone had cleaned up whatever mess was made in the darkness and dragged the bucket somewhere else.
It's too much. Simon closes the door as silently as he can manage and locks it behind him. He goes to his own room’s door and pauses. He turns around and heads for the Captain’s quarters. If David got out of that room and killed him tonight, there’s only one person who deserves to hold onto anything.
To his surprise, the door slides open. He steps inside quickly, making sure no one has spotted him. He finds half of a torn transcript and a wax stick.
“If it works, it’s not the COI’s. It's not Eden’s. I just need you to keep this one last promise.” He writes in thick handwriting. He feels guilty, since Ava pulled him out of AT-5’s ocean. She's been putting herself in danger; if she agreed to this, it would just be more for her to worry about. He tells himself that she’s strong. She knows what shes doing. She’s arguably trustworthy. More than most of the people Simon has ever trusted.
He yanks the seedling pendant from the sheath and stares at it. At the little leaf blooming from the seed, and the crack running up the side. This whole time, he’s been clutching this little broken thing like a lifeline and making it worse. He wonders if the little seed could think, would it feel trapped in the clear, hard material that surrounds it? It’s been breaking this whole time, and now it might be given the chance to grow. His hand is shaking. He sets the pendant on his note, gently as he can, and stares at it.
He rushes out of Ava’s room and takes a few steps down the hall before he remembers to lock it back. He isn’t sure if anyone sees him. There’s an aching feeling in his chest as he forces himself to leave the seed. It's bigger than him, right?