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Simon had known he was different from his very first day at school, he saw the way the other mothers would stare at his as though she was something distasteful they had stepped in. He watched as they whispered behind their hands and gently steered away their own little boys. That was the first domino to topple, it left him sitting in the corner at break time picking flowers and making flower crowns for no one but himself. It left him quiet.
The seizures started when he was five and a half. His head had started to feel funny and he couldn't concentrate, he was scared all of a sudden; although he hadn't the faintest idea why. His eyes had fluttered, then rolled back, and his entire body stiffened. His arms and legs began to jerk rhythmically, violently, against the floor. His face flushed, then paled to a sickly pallor. The air had filled with the sound of his shallow gasps and frightened sobs both for and from his mother. The episode seemed to last an eternity. His memories of the aftermath were fuzzy, what he did know was that within the hour they had seen a doctor and he received a small bottle of medication. It never seemed to help all that much, and it certainly never took away the fear.
When he joined the choir at 8 he finally felt a little less abnormal. The boys he met there were kind for the most part, and Jack had become (albeit begrudgingly) Simon's caretaker. He knew the signs of a seizure off by heart and could spot them before even Simon could sometimes. Each and every time Simon would thank him, and each and every time Jack would brush him off with a, "Well, I'm the lead chorister, aren't I? I can't let my choir be down a member. We wouldn't sound as good."
Simon smiled anyway.
When he first arrived on the island, it brought a new sense of fear, a fear he hadn't felt since the day he got his first seizure. He'd managed to have a fit in every single country the plane had stopped in before the crash, and back then he had his medication. Who was to say he wouldn't have one here? Here where he couldn't be helped as quickly, if ever? Jack's presence was a small comfort, but a comfort that quickly evaporated. It felt like a switch had flipped inside him, he was more dismissive, more agitated, even easier to trigger than before. But Simon could put up with it. He had to.
His new comfort came in the form of Ralph. He liked Ralph. He thought Ralph liked him too, even if he found him a bit odd. Ralph was odd too. All he ever talked about was Coral Island, he told Simon all about it the first night because he found out Simon hadn't read it. Ralph was so passionate that he couldn't help but listen attentively the whole time, adding small comments where it was needed. He really did like Ralph.
He liked Piggy too, despite his appearance and funny accent, Piggy was the smartest boy that Simon had ever met. He was awfully funny sometimes too, if and when the opportunity arose.Funnily enough, the island made him feel like he belonged. He had two proper friends, friends that chatted to him without stepping on eggshells or rolling their eyes. Friends who were calm and kind and who smiled at him with a warmth he'd only seen from his mother.
He liked his special spot too, it made him feel calm and it got him away from the squealing of the littuns and gave him time to think. He thought a lot. He thought about Ralph mostly. He thought about the muscle that ticked in his jaw every time Jack did something that upset him. He thought about how happy he looked when he spoke about Coral Island, how his eyes lit up and his grin made his eyes all squinty. He thought about how nice his hair was, even though it was beginning to get grubby. It made him feel funny. Not in a bad way, never in a bad way, just.. Funny. Funny in a way he couldn't name or put into words. It made his stomach and knotty and he felt like he was being put under a microscope. He'd think about it more another day, he'd decided, because he was too tired to spell it out now.
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Simon was an observer by nature, years of quietly playing by himself made it so. He liked to watch the twins, because he thought it was interesting how in sync they were. He liked to watch Ralph building shelters and talking at meetings, because he liked the determined expression he always had on. He liked watching Piggy when he had a good idea, because he liked how happy he looked when either he or Ralph affirmed his speculations. It was because of these observational skills that he noticed the way Ralph would look at him when they spoke.
He looked at him like he was something worth the investment. Something worth loving. Simon's heart quickened at the thought, a warmth spreading through his chest that he hadn't felt before. Simon wasn't sure he deserved that kind of attention. He was used to being on the periphery. He had spent years being odd in a way that made other children avoid engaging with him the way friends do. The idea of being truly seen, truly valued, stirred a strange discomfort within his chest.
He had met Ralph's gaze once, a silent acknowledgment passed between them. In that moment, the island seemed to fade away, the fear and uncertainty replaced by a fragile sense of hope. For a moment, he finally felt like he had something real, something tangible. It felt right.