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The first time Simon opened his eyes, he was met with a sterile, white ceiling. This can't be right. The last thing he remembers before blacking out was the look of the submarine, the metal groaning under the pressure it was in, blood pouring in through the marks the Eel left behind. That, and the pain of having to sacrifice his left arm in order to stay separated from the Ocean.
But now? The place he was in was warm, almost welcoming. He was presumably wrapped in bandages and gauze, the caring yet fearful voice of a stranger in his ears. God, he missed Eomma. He missed her stories, her laughter, the way she would sing to him on rough nights after the Rapture, what she would tell him about where they came from and the language they shared. The stranger reminded him of her in that way. Kind, loving. Like someone you could trust within moments of meeting them.
Simon was pulled from his thoughts when the Stranger returned. They were talking, but Simon didn't register a word. They fluttered around the room, checking various machines and looking at his injuries. “누구세요?” Simon asked, swinging his legs off of the bed (?) to get into a sitting position. “I'm sorry?” The Stranger replied, looking at him with interest and confusion.
Simon looked around the room, his eyes adjusting to the bright light. This wasn't Eden, or anywhere he'd been in his life. “엄마?” He called out, fear rising. “엄마예요? 여기 어디예요?” The Stranger kept their eyes on Simon, tilting their head slightly. “I don't understand, I'm sorry,” they said again, grabbing a tablet-like device and pulling something up.
It was then that Simon realized. They heard his desperate plea. He'd escaped. “그들은 내 말을 들었습니다. 그들은 나를 살려주었다.” He didn't realize he was saying that aloud. “You're alive,” The Stranger agreed, smiling brighter than any ghostlight Simon had ever seen. “Are you feeling okay? Armando changed your bandages while you were out, do we need to change them again?”
Simon stared at his right hand, the only one he had left. He grabbed the closest thing to him, which turned out to be The Stranger's hand. When he looked up at them, the light framed their face that made them look almost like a-
“천사?” He whispered, shifting his touch from their hand to their cheek. “No, I'm not-” “네, 맞아요. 당신은 저를 구하러 오셨어요.” Simon said, cutting them off. “But I'm not, I saw a signal and saw you out there. I couldn't let you die,” The Angel said, taking Simon's hand in theirs. “It wouldn't be fair to you.”
Simon's eyes started shining with unshed tears as he stared at his Angel, asking one more question. “그가 나를 용서했나요?” A dumb one, really. He knew it wouldn't be true, but maybe an Angel would tell him the truth. “Did who forgive you?” They asked, putting another hand on Simon's knee, looking at their device. He couldn't help it, but he started to cry, both from the pain and relief of being heard. But he needed the answer, something to tell him that he wasn't completely doomed.
그냥 저한테 말씀해 주세요,” he pleaded, speech sounding more broken as more tears came. The Angel took his hand in both of theirs, staring into their eyes with determination. “Look, I don't know who you are or what you did, but I believe that everyone deserves second chances. So, whoever you believe in, I think with my whole heart and soul, that they saw someone with too much pain and will in their heart and let them live again. They did forgive you,” they said, placing their foreheads together in a final act of love and mercy.
That was all it took for Simon to completely fall apart, ugly piercing sobs left his throat as he grabbed at the back of the Angel's shirt. They took him in their arms, whispering soft words and comforting him as he wept, a hand carding through his hair as he stayed in the embrace of his soldier, feeling whispered promises and old songs in his hair, and for the first time since Eomma passed, Simon felt safe.