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Simon had always been a light sleeper, even before it became a necessity for survival. So when Rocky stumbled through his xenonite tubes towards the lab’s cupola where Simon had taken to sleeping, Simon was already awake.
The little alien slid to a halt at the curve of his tube that was closest to Simon, practically ricocheting off of the xenonite wall in his haste. His movements were agitated, and Simon found himself tensing in response. Though Rocky no longer unnerved him, Simon couldn’t help his instinctive response to Rocky’s apparent mood. Past experience had taught him that if people around him were upset, then pain was sure to follow, and even though Rocky and Ryland had been nothing but accommodating, Simon still couldn’t shake the feeling that it was only a matter of time before that changed.
No one could be that kind without some ulterior motive. Sooner or later, they’d cut the bullshit and finally reveal what they actually wanted from Simon. They must have saved him for some purpose, even if it was just to use as labour, and Simon was kind of getting tired of waiting for them to just come clean about it.
Seeing Rocky rushing towards him, however, the alien’s limbs flailing as he scrambled through his tubes, Simon wondered if one of them had finally gotten tired of playing nice and had decided to tell Simon exactly what they now expected of him.
Rocky managed to catch himself on one of the xenonite seams, and pulled himself to a stop before he could accidentally slip back down his tunnel. Braced against the sides of the walls with three of his limbs, he started waving his remaining arms at Simon, his trills and chirps ringing through the labspace. It took Simon a second to realize that the laptop that he usually used to translate for Rocky was currently missing; Ryland must have taken it down to the dormitory when he’d finally turned in to get some sleep.
“I don’t understand you, remember?” Simon grunted, tucking himself further into the thick quilt that Ryland had given him when Simon had first set up his bed in the cupola.
Rocky paused, his body spinning in place for a second as he considered the situation. And then he very deliberately let out the rattling growl sound that Simon had come to recognize as Ryland’s name in Rocky’s language.
Despite himself, Simon sat up a little straighter. “Ryland? What about him?”
Ryland’s name again, followed by a short, angry sound. Rocky mimed covering his body with two of his arms and shaking, and it took Simon a second to realize that he was mimicking someone cowering away from some sort of danger.
“Something’s wrong with Ryland?” Simon demanded, the quilt slipping from his shoulders as he rose even further.
Rocky did the hand wiggle that Simon had learned meant ‘yes’ for his species. Immediately Simon was on his feet and rushing towards the dormitory, Rocky stumbling through the tunnels after him.
When Simon arrived in the dormitory, it was pitch black. The lights had all been turned off to let Ryland sleep, and yet Simon could see the room clearly.
He tried very hard not to think about why that was as the left side of his face throbbed faintly.
Instead, his eyes locked on the bed furthest from the door, and the body laying on it. From a distance, it almost looked like nothing was wrong. There was no blood, no sparks or fire. Nothing to immediately indicate there was trouble. Ryland was resting on the bed, mostly hidden underneath his blanket with only his messy hair poking out. But the second Simon looked closer, he caught the way that Ryland’s body was trembling.
Simon froze in the doorway, uncertain. Was Ryland sick? Was he shaking because he was cold? Rocky had made it seem like Ryland was in some kind of danger, but unless there was something that needed to be killed, or some clothing that needed repair, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to do here. He didn’t exactly have a lot of other skills. Whatever the problem was, was it something that Simon could even help with, or would he just make things worse? He needed more information!
Simon’s eyes darted around the room, wondering why the medical robot that lurked in this section of the ship hadn’t activated yet if something was wrong with Ryland, when he spotted the missing translator laptop sitting in the corner. Immediately he headed towards it, turning it on so that the translation system could activate. As soon as it was ready, he carried it towards where Rocky was now hovering in his little dome next to Ryland’s bed.
“What’s going on?” he whispered, trying not to wake Ryland. “What’s wrong? Is Ryland sick?”
Rocky let out a series of notes, and a second later, the laptop answered. <Grace have nightmare>
Simon’s eyebrows rose. He glanced over at Ryland for a second, and then back at Rocky. That was what the alien was freaking out about? “A nightmare? Is that it?”
<Rocky cannot wake Grace. Grace make sad noises. bad bad bad noises. Grace hurt. Grace scared. Rocky try to wake but Grace not wake up. bad bad bad. Simon wake Grace, question?>
“You — seriously? That’s the big emergency?” Simon hissed in frustration. Fuck, he’d been genuinely worried there for a moment, but all this fuss was just over some bad dreams? Who cares about those?
<Grace mind hurt. Grace sad sad sad. nightmares make Grace sad. Rocky cannot fix. Simon fix, statement>
Simon kind of wanted to argue, but to be fair, it wasn’t like this was a difficult request. So, rolling his eyes, he rounded Rocky’s xenonite dome and made his way over to Ryland’s bed.
He drew to a stop next to the head of the bed, and started reaching out with his hand to shake Ryland awake. But just before his fingers could make contact, Ryland let out a sound that froze him in place; a tiny, pained whimper.
“No. No, please no,” Ryland moaned in his sleep.
Simon stopped, his fingers inches away from Ryland’s shoulder, his eyes wide. The entire time he’d been here on the Hail Mary, he’d never heard Ryland sound so…wrecked. The other man was usually cheerful and upbeat, to the point it kind of drove Simon nuts. It was so strange hearing his voice sound so small.
Rocky made a soft chirp behind him, but the laptop didn’t translate it. Still, it was enough to spur Simon back into motion. Right. He was here to help with Ryland’s nightmares. Simple enough. He reached down and finally closed his fingers around Ryland’s shoulder, giving him a gentle shake.
“Hey. Ryland. Wake up,” he murmured.
He expected that it would take Ryland a moment to get his bearings, but to Simon’s surprise, the second he jostled Ryland’s shoulder, the man immediately whipped upright. He let out a strangled cry of fear, slapping Simon’s hand away with a swinging arm, and started scrambling backwards across the mattress. The blanket was too tangled around his legs for him to move them properly, however, and he started to tip off of the edge instead.
“Whoa!” Simon yelped, diving across the bed to try and catch Ryland. His lone hand wrapped around Ryland’s bicep, stopping him before he could fall, but that only seemed to freak Ryland out more. He screamed, and started clawing at Simon’s fingers.
“Ryland, what the fuck!?” Simon growled, tightening his grip in response so that Ryland couldn’t force him to let go. “I’m going to drop you, dumbass!”
“No, no, no!” Ryland sobbed, shaking his head. “No, please, let me go!”
“I can’t — ! Fuck.” With a snarl, Simon gave Ryland’s body a firm tug, bringing him back from the edge of the bed. He’d meant to get Ryland closer to the middle so that he wouldn’t fall, but at the same moment he’d tugged, Ryland tried to lunge free, and the unexpected movement knocked Simon backward. He landed hard on the ground, Ryland crashing down on top of him a second later. Ryland's body landed hard enough to knock the breath out of Simon’s lungs, leaving him momentarily winded.
“No, no, no!” Ryland cried. He was still struggling, but his blanket had remained wrapped around his legs too tightly for him to get free, and all he was accomplishing was jabbing Simon in the ribs.
“Ryland!” Simon shouted, trying to break through Ryland’s panic. He gave Ryland a little shake with the hand he still had wrapped around Ryland’s arm. His fingers had probably left bruises at this point. “Ryland!”
Ryland let out a wounded noise unlike anything Simon had ever heard before. His frenzy only seemed to be getting worse.
A sharp, loud trill sounded above Ryland’s shouting. A second later, the laptop chimed.
<hug statement>
Simon jerked his head around to stare up at Rocky incredulously. “What?!”
His moment of distraction resulted in Ryland’s flailing hands slapping him across the face. It barely hurt — after all the other injuries he’d incurred over the years, it almost didn’t even register — but the unexpected blow made Simon gasp in shock. A second later, he smelled something warm and coppery; Ryland must have cut himself on one of the teeth sticking out of Simon’s left cheek.
<hug statement> Rocky repeated, the trilling noise he made sounding more insistant. <human method of comfort. Grace need. Grace hurt self. Grace hurt Simon. Grace need need need hug. Simon give hug>
Well, Simon didn’t have any better ideas, and Ryland didn’t seem to be calming down on his own. So Simon let go of Ryland’s bicep, and reached up to wrap his arm around Ryland’s shoulders. He pulled Ryland down until the man was pinned against him, chest to chest, Ryland’s arms now trapped at his sides and his face buried in Simon’s neck.
“Calm down!” he growled, trying his best to mimic some of the things that Ryland had said when it had been him freaking out in the past. He gave Ryland a little squeeze, hoping it was coming across more comforting than restraining. “Calm down, you’re safe. You’re safe.”
He kept up the string of soothing nonsense, the repetitive words falling from his lips without thought. He didn’t know if it was actually working, but at least he wasn’t the only one making an effort. Rocky was hovering over them in his dome, offering his own soothing noises that sounded more like a lullaby to Simon than speech.
Ryland continued to squirm for a few more seconds, but gradually his struggles slowed, and then ceased. He lay there on top of Simon, panting against Simon’s neck, limp with exhaustion. Simon could feel the collar of his shirt growing damp where Ryland’s tears were soaking the fabric, but he just grimaced and ignored the feeling. It was Ryland’s shirt, after all. If he wanted to get tears and snot on it, who was Simon to object?
Finally, after what felt like a full minute of the two of them lying there on the floor of the dormitory, Simon trying his best to offer comforting words while Rocky stood watch, he felt Ryland start to shift.
“...Simon?” he said, his voice small.
“Yeah?”
“...why are we on the floor?”
Simon stared up at the ceiling, doing his best to ignore the feeling of Ryland’s breath puffing against his neck.
“You were having a bad dream,” he explained tersely. Even though Ryland had seemingly calmed down, Simon could still feel how hard Ryland’s heart was beating from how closely they were pressed together. “Rocky couldn’t wake you up, so he got me.”
“And you…dragged me out of bed to wake me up?” Ryland asked.
“No, I tried to shake you awake, and you freaked out,” Simon corrected. “You almost fell out of bed, I tried to catch you, and you landed on me instead.”
“Ah.” Ryland shifted a little. “Guess I should, uh. Get off of you, then.”
“Probably,” Simon agreed through clenched teeth.
Ryland started to squirm, trying to sit up, but he was still obviously tangled up in his blanket. He managed to at least push himself up on his forearms so he wasn’t lying on top of Simon anymore, but now he was hovering over Simon instead, which honestly wasn’t much better. Feeling uncomfortable with their positions, Simon reached up and pushed Ryland to the side so that he could roll away.
“Oof!” Ryland grunted, landing on his hip.
<Grace okay now, question?> Rocky called, leaning on his barrier to speak to Ryland. <Grace hurt, question?>
“I’m fine,” Ryland quickly assured the little alien. “I’m fine, I’m okay.”
Simon had made it to his feet, preparing to leave the room now that his job was done, but he looked back sharply when he heard how shaky Ryland’s voice sounded. Sure enough, Ryland was still visibly trembling. His hands were shaking so badly that he was having trouble pulling the blanket free from his legs. As Simon watched, Ryland sniffed, rubbing the back of his hand under his nose to wipe away some of the snot, and then went back to fruitlessly trying to untangle himself. He didn't even seem to notice that his hand was bleeding from where he'd cut it on Simon's teeth.
“Liar,” Simon huffed before he could stop himself.
Ryland’s head whipped up to give him a look of surprise, followed by a glare. It was far from intimidating, however. Ryland’s eyes were bloodshot, his hair a mess and his face shiny with tears. He was already the least scary person that Simon had ever met, and right now he looked even more pathetic than usual.
What Simon probably should have done was pretend he hadn’t spoken. He should have turned his back on Ryland and Rocky, and headed back to his little nest in the cupola. He should have left Rocky to deal with Ryland, let the two of them sort things out. After all, he was just a convict, a butcher. He didn’t make things better. His presence wasn’t a comfort.
But all he could think of was the way Ryland had been begging. How terrified he’d been when Simon had grabbed him. There was something there that made Simon’s stomach churn unpleasantly when he was forced to think about Ryland's reaction to being held.
He’d seen that look before. He’d been incarcerated for years, after all, and he’d seen his fair share of fellow prisoners. No one would ever dare try anything with him, given his reputation as The Butcher, but Simon knew what could happen to an inmate behind closed doors. He’d seen the way some of them had looked after one of the guards had pulled them away into a dark corner.
The idea that something like that might have happened to Ryland made something ugly squirm in his chest. He didn’t fully trust Ryland, but the man had shown him nothing but kindness so far. It made Simon feel oddly…protective of Ryland, despite his best efforts to keep his distance.
Seeing Ryland like this, shaken and withdrawn as he sat there on the floor with his back pressed against the wall like a cornered animal, Simon could feel those protective urges flare. Before he knew what he was doing, he was turning on his heel and walking back over.
“You’re not okay,” he said, coming to a stop next to Ryland.
Ryland looked up at him with defiance. “I’m fine.”
“You’re shaking,” Simon pointed out.
“I — I fell out of bed!” Ryland argued. “There’s still the whole…adrenaline rush, thing!”
“Fine. Whatever,” Simon huffed, before dropping down to the ground. Ryland startled a little as Simon took a seat next to him, but to Simon’s surprise, he didn’t shift away.
He tried his best to ignore the little flicker of relief that gave him.
“What are you doing?” Ryland asked.
Simon didn’t answer. Instead, he reached over and grabbed the edge of the blanket Ryland had been struggling with. A single tug pulled it free.
“Hey!” Ryland yelped. “I was…I had it!”
Simon snorted. “Sure.”
“I did!”
Ignoring him, Simon continued to pull the corner of the blanket towards himself. It was difficult arranging things with only one arm, but somehow he managed to get the blanket draped over both of their laps so that their legs were covered. He’d needed to shift a little bit closer to Ryland to do it, their shoulders now brushing against each other, but he’d successfully tucked them both in.
“What are you doing?” Ryland questioned, sounding both confused and suspicious.
“Getting comfortable, the fuck does it look like?” Simon grunted, shifting a little. The floor here wasn’t exactly padded, but it was a hell of a lot softer than the concrete floor of his cell. His ass would probably start hurting eventually, but he’d live.
Ryland gave him a look. “...why?”
Without looking over, Simon shrugged, his fingers tracing the stitching of the large quilt covering them. “You telling me you’re going to be okay to go back to sleep like this?”
He saw Ryland bite his cheek out of the corner of his eye, clearly unable to disagree.
Ryland grumbled something under his breath, but he didn’t try to move away. Instead, he followed Simon’s lead and shuffled back until he was resting against the wall behind them. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, and the room went quiet aside from the sound of his ragged breaths. They were starting to sound less painful, but Simon glanced over at Ryland’s face, and couldn’t help but notice that his brow still looked pinched.
Hugs. That was what Rocky had said would help, right?
Thinking of the alien made Simon briefly glance up towards the dome where Rocky had been watching them. He noted with mild surprise that it was now empty; Rocky must have scuttled off somewhere to give them some privacy or something. It felt like an odd show of trust from the weird little rock thing, to have left him and Ryland alone like this, and it was making Simon feel…something. He didn’t know what the hell the emotion was. Maybe nausea?
Ryland sniffed quietly, and Simon jolted a little. Right. Fuck. Focus, Simon.
Hugs. Rocky had insisted that hugs would help. Simon wasn’t so sure about that, given that grabbing Ryland earlier seemed to have set him off. Hugs weren’t much different than being restrained, right? Besides, he’d deliberately sat down to Ryland’s right so that the stump of his left arm was on that side to hopefully make Ryland feel a bit better. Couldn’t really grab him as easily if he didn’t have a hand there, right? He wondered if Ryland even noticed.
Simon also wasn’t really sure he could…do hugs. He didn’t exactly have a lot of experience with them. But…contact. That helped. Hadn’t Ryland said that once? That humans needed physical contact to be happy, or something? Hugs might have been a bit much for him, but physical contact was something Simon could handle.
They were already sitting pretty close together, so it didn’t take much shifting for Simon to now be pressed more firmly against Ryland’s side. He flung a leg out so that it was touching Ryland’s from his hip down to his ankle, and he leaned in so that their shoulders were resting against each other.
Ryland went stiff, and for a moment, Simon thought maybe he’d fucked up somehow. But then Ryland sniffed again, and asked, “Is this okay?”
“I wouldn’t be doing it if it wasn’t,” Simon grunted. Then, hesitantly, he added. “Is it okay for you?”
“Yeah, this is…this is fine,” Ryland agreed quickly, adding a nod of his head.
“Okay. Cool.”
“Cool.”
They sat there in silence for a while, side-by-side. The room was still dark, since neither Simon or Rocky had needed to turn on the lights when they’d arrived, and around them the Hail Mary hummed with her usual background noises. Simon thought he could faintly hear the sound of Rocky skittering around somewhere else on the ship, but he could also be imagining it.
He didn’t know how long they’d been sitting there before he gradually became aware of an increase in the pressure against his shoulder. He very deliberately didn’t look over, but he could feel Ryland starting to sag as his exhaustion and lack of rest started to catch up to him. Simon stayed perfectly still as Ryland’s head started to droop, occasionally twitching back up as he tried to fight a losing battle against sleep.
When Simon felt Ryland’s beard start to tickle the curve of his shoulder, he held his breath, afraid to so much as twitch. A second later, Ryland’s hair was brushing his ear as Ryland finally gave up resisting the tiredness dragging his body down. He let his head land on Simon’s shoulder, sagging limply against Simon’s side.
“...s’is okay?” Ryland mumbled, sounding like he was already starting to doze off again.
“Is it helping?” Simon asked quietly.
“Yeah…”
“Then yes. It’s fine.”
“...’kay,” Ryland sighed. Simon felt the last bit of tension seep out of Ryland’s body. A few seconds later, Ryland’s breathing evened out as he finally fell asleep.
Simon sat there in the dark and quiet for a while, just…feeling. Ryland was a warm, comforting weight against him, the blanket across their legs soft and cozy. The sounds of the ship’s systems were steady and familiar, and Simon found that for once he actually felt…safe.
Maybe it was time to finally accept it, he mused. Accept that Ryland and Rocky didn’t want to hurt him, or use him. They were just as messed up, scared, and alone as he was. Their circumstances might have been slightly different, but deep down their experiences were the same. They were lonely, and now they had all found each other.
He was safe. He was finally safe.
Such a huge revelation probably would have triggered a bigger reaction in him if he wasn’t also starting to feel the lack of sleep tug at his eyelids. Maybe he could freak out about it properly in the morning.
In the meantime, he shuffled just a little bit, being careful not to jostle Ryland, until he could lean back against Ryland’s weight. Tipping his head until it was resting against the top of Ryland’s own, he let his eyes slip closed and his mind settle as he let his tiredness catch up to him.
Safe and warm, sitting next to Ryland, Simon let himself drift off to sleep.