Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Rocky ran to the room as fast as he could, but he knew he was already too late.
He'd heard it though Mary's laughably thin walls; the new human waking up, Grace only being able to get in a few words before he was pinned violently against the wall. Grace fighting back, of course, and managing to slip out of the other's grasp, running for the exit. But the new human snatching up a discarded scalpel and dashing after Rocky's human, slicing at the back of his neck as he fled. That making Grace scream in pain and crumple to the floor, where his head was gripped cruelly by the hair by an (abnormally, Grace had explained) clawed hand and slammed against the doorframe. And then Grace had collapsed, unconscious. That was two seconds before Rocky arrived.
He had begun to race toward the lab the moment Grace had been pinned by the other human, of course, but with the combination of Grace telling him to stay as far away as possible so that he didn't scare the human when they woke up (he scoffed at that, now), and everything happening so incredibly quick— he was too late.
Too late to prevent it, at least.
He turned to the long-haired human now braced against one of the lab tables, heaving and out of breath. As soon as Rocky had entered the human's eyes had snapped to him, and now that Rocky had angled himself toward them their breath did a stuttery thing that brought more joy to Rocky's hearts than he should admit, their eyes blew even wider than they already were, somehow, and they took a step back.
Oh, absolutely not.
Rocky lunged with a rattling scream of unbridled rage.
The other human yelped and tried to leap out of the way, but wasn't fast enough. Rocky slammed into them, knocking them both to the ground and kicking a pained scream out of the human now under him. Rocky quickly, easily pinned their three (not four— also abnormal) limbs to the ground. (Rocky thanked the ground below yet again that he'd finally gotten around to making a skin-tight xenonite suit— it had come in handy a few times, recently.) The human was roaring unintelligibly and straining desperately in his hold, and it wasn't until Rocky turned his rattling growl into a sudden shriek that the human finally snapped their mouth shut.
The thing's chest was absolutely heaving under Rocky, and he could clearly hear the frantic, light-speed fast heartbeat under him, but he couldn't quite bring himself to care. They'd hurt Grace. His Grace. Made him bleed. Knocked him unconscious.
Rocky was not especially persuaded to be very nice to this creature.
He glanced around for something to restrain them with— his first priority was, of course, Grace, but he couldn't just leave a being like this running lose in the ship.
They'd brought the new human to the dorm at first, of course, so that Armando could fix them up, but after they were stable for a couple of days he and Grace had transferred most of what the person needed (their IVs, the heartbeat monitor, had even dragged a mattress onto one of the lab tables) to the lab so that Grace could begin to study the being's "mutations". (Rocky had had to make up an entirely new word for that horrifying concept.)
So now Rocky tapped rapidly on the ground, looking for anything that might be able to restrain the creature— perfect!
Rocky balanced on one leg for a moment to snatch a roll of cloth-adjacent bandages from where they had fallen onto the floor. They weren't the best option, and the human would probably be able to get out of them given time, but he only needed a short-term solution so that he could get Grace to Armando. The being's struggling began anew and they cried out as Rocky began man-handling them into a sitting position so that he could restrain the thing's arm against his torso and then tie his ankles together. He ignored them and, when he was done, cocked his carapace. Not his best work, but it would do. He shot off of the human over to his human.
Grace was leaking from the back of his neck and the side of his head, a small puddle forming under his soft locks. His human breathed shallowly, and his heartbeat fluttered and stuttered in a way that made Rocky run completely cold. Gingerly and with shaking arms, he lifted him from the ground, the liquid creating strings where it stuck to the ground and Grace's hair. He tried to be as careful as possible, but he probably ran much too fast to the dorm, his hearts hammering a pulsing through his whole body.
Gently, ever so gently, he placed him onto his bed. Even though Armando was already beginning to swarm his Grace, he said quietly, "Armando, you need to fix Grace. Fix him. Please."
The notes wavered like a pebble learning how to sing.
"Of course, Rocky," Mary replied even though Rocky had spoken in Eridian. Grace had programmed her to understand him without the translator shortly after he himself had stopped using it. "Armando has been deployed, assessing crewmate Dr. Ryland Grace now."
Rocky's carapace lowered in relief. Grace was alright. He was going to be alright. As Grace had once said, "Armando is the best doctor (besides me) on this side of the Milky Way!"
The joke didn't cheer him. Not when Grace wasn't the one telling it.
But Grace would be fine!! He would be just fine.
And if he wasn't…
Rocky knew who to blame.
Rocky heard said person thrashing in their restraints, and a wave of fury crashed over him as he remembered that he'd have to go take care of that monster instead of watching Grace sleep. His vents pushed out a snort of hot air and a growl picked up low in his carapace as he stalked back toward the lab.
Simon was so close! If he just wiggled a little further he would be able to grasp the scalpel he had dropped earlier—
The demon suddenly stomped into the lab, that unholy baritone growl that shook Simon's bones once again flaring his absolutely pounding headache.
Simon completely, utterly, and entirely froze as a hot, roaring wave of adrenaline ravaged though his body. But the demon didn't stop. It was coming right for him.
Simon screamed again as he writhed toward the weapon, but not nearly fast enough— suddenly there were cruel claws fisting his hair.
"WAIT! WAIT I'M SORRY I DIDN'T—" He was cut off by his own strangled cry as white hot pain erupted from his skull where he begun to get dragged by his locks. He tried desperately to twist out of the hold, but that only managed to make him choke and gasp in even more agony.
"PLEASE! I'M SORRY! FORGIVE ME PLEASE!" Simon screamed.
He was ignored.
He could barely see, now, through the roaring headache and the spots in his vision, but even so he tried hooking his feet around a corner. He was rewarded with a bruise.
Suddenly, they stopped, and so did Simon's breaths, until he was shoved callously against a wall. Simon tried to stifle his sob-yelp of pain, and failed.
They were stopped before a door, and the demon made quick work of opening it and beginning to throw the boxes and cloth bags filling it into the hallway past Simon. Simon choked on his breath as the back began to be revealed.
It was small. Probably only about four by four feet.
Smaller than the sub.
He was going to be put in there.
Simon suddenly cried out again and bucked in his restraints. "N-NO! PLEASE! Please- I'M SORRY! Don't put me in there, PLEASE!!! I swear I'm sorry. I-I didn't know where I was. I didn't know—"
The demon jerked to face him suddenly, a sharp growl making him flinch violently into the wall at his back. He locked his eyes desperately onto the floor as he shivered and whispered desperately, "S-sorry."
Please leave me alone I'm sorry please please please please PLEASE—
The demon turned back to its task.
Simon let slip a silent prayer of guttural thanks.
The demon was right to shut him up, though. Who was he to be demanding things, to be asking for forgiveness after what he'd done?
He'd hurt an angel. He'd knocked him out. He'd MADE HIM BLEED.
Guilt curled ugly and slimy and too much like that eel low in his gut. She laughed at him, mocking. Why do you feel sorry? There's nothing you could've done to prevent this. You're the Butcher, it's you're nature. It's all you can do.
Be a dirty, rotten, monster of a sinner.
Simon didn't even know angels could bleed. Maybe they could in purgatory.
That's where Simon assumed he was. Where else could an angel and a devil coexist? A place between Heaven and Hell where he would be judged and sent, undoubtedly, to the latter. Especially since he had failed what probably wasn't even supposed to be a test (but of course Simon found a way to screw it up anyway), utterly, completely, and despicably. The reason the angel wasn't prepared to fight back was most likely because he had never even fathomed Simon would dosomething like that.
Simon had only realized where he was and what he was harming until the (much more obvious) demon came into the room, and then he knew in his bones it was far too late to save his introduction. And now he was being stored away for however long the demon decided to torture him for for his crimes before he was cast into Hell for the same, but worse by one-hundredfold.
And now the demon was walking toward him.
Simon nearly choked on his breath again as he tried to scramble back, useless pleas spilling desperately from his lips as his voice, and his whole body, shivered and shook. The demon only growled musically again and threw Simon in his cell by his hair, making him cry out again as pain sliced across his scalp.
The demon didn't bother to turn on the light before it slammed the door in Simon's face and locked it with a click.