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There weren’t many moments in Simon’s life where he could remember being allowed to just sit beside someone he loved. Time was a resource, and it wasn’t meant to be spent sitting doing nothing. When his mother had been sick, he trained until the minute she died, and even then he wasn’t allowed much time with her. When his brothers were injured, it just meant they got hauled off to the medbay while he went back to work. It was foreign for him to sit beside a hospital bed just to watch.
Now Grace lay mere feet away from him. Hours had passed since Simon had watched him hyperventilate himself into unconsciousness. Since he’d heard him yelling about being murdered with blood gushing down his face. All of that terror had faded into the restless sleep he was currently in. Simon knew it wasn’t comfortable. His face was covered in bandages, and the air still smelled of antiseptic. The cot he was lying on was nothing compared to an actual bed, but both he and Rocky were too scared to move him away from Arm-ando.
So now he sat on the ground right by Grace’s head while Rocky quietly fiddled with something beside him. They hadn’t spoken since they had moved Grace, both too focused on making sure he was okay over conversation, and that silence had simply carried on. They usually had more to say, whether it was a rant session about a piece of machinery not working the way they wanted, or friendly fire where they called each other things that made Grace frown, but today all of that had been gutted.
Simon ran his hand across his face, leaning into it as his brain tried to process everything that had happened. Had it really been just yesterday he had locked himself in his house? When Grace said he loved him? Or when Simon had told him that he could hurt him? Could all of that really only have happened yesterday? If so, where did that put him now? Nothing had changed in him between now and then; Simon knew he was still a threat. He’d already caused both of them enough problems. The evidence was right in front of him, wrapped in bandages.
Rocky shifts next to him, pulling Simon from his thoughts. “Rocky is sorry.”
The murmured melody catches him off guard. Maybe he hadn’t heard him right; there was no way Rocky would apologize to him, of all people.
“W-what was that, Rocky?” He said despite his voice cracking from lack of use.
“Rocky made Grace upset. Grace was talking about Simon and said Grace hurt Simon. Rocky tried to fix it. Grace was upset and got hurt. Rocky sorry.”
“He said he hurt…me?” Simon turned so he was fully facing Rocky. “He…he didn’t. Why did he–”
“Rocky not know. Rocky told Grace Simon fine, that not Grace fault. Grace panicked, and Rocky couldn’t help. Is all Rocky fault.”
Simon took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to explain everything to Rocky in a way that made sense. He couldn’t let another person take the blame for him not being domestic.
“Rock. It’s not your fault. Are you listening to me?” Simon paused, making sure that Rocky was following what he was saying. “It’s my fault. I scared Grace. You were just trying to help him. It’s my fault he got hurt.”
“How could Simon hurt Grace if not there?” Rocky asked, fiddling with his claws.
“I…I can’t be who he needs. He wouldn’t believe me if I told him that. I thought it would be easier to just…just shut him out. But you know, Grace, he’s too stubborn for that…If I told him this, he’d just try to talk me out of it.” Simon shakes his head, focusing back on Rocky. “It doesn’t really matter, Rock. It’s not your fault.”
“....Not Rocky fault.” He shifted in his xenonite suit, causing it to make a small chiming noise. “...Simon not…Simon…Need word.”
“I’m not sure if I’m going to be a great help there.”
“Simon, try anyway. Need word to describe…feeling bad about something.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is guilt, Rock.”
“Yes. Yes….Simon have too much.”
Simon stared at the rock creature in front of him. He had just admitted to hurting his best friend, and he was telling Simon he was feeling too guilty? His brain tried to string together an argument but kept falling short. He felt a small surge of frustration bubble within him. Why couldn’t Rocky just understand this was his fault and leave it at that?
“No, if anything, I don’t have enough.”
“...Simon is scared of something.”
“I don’t want to talk about that.”
“Rocky can fix if Simon is scared.” Rocky stood up and started moving around as if he could invent a solution that would suddenly make everything okay. “Rocky fix. Grace, Simon no longer upset!”
“I said I don’t want to talk about that!” His voice came out louder than he wanted, the frustration pooling into a familiar anger he hated.
Rocky backed away from his voice, choosing to stand closer to Grace’s still sleeping form. He wasn’t standing defensively, but he definitely seemed to be ready to fight if needed. The sight alone sent a wave of sadness through Simon’s veins. His eyes darted over the scene as he tried to assess the damage, knowing he couldn’t fix it.
“I’m…I’m sorry, Rock…I’m sorry.”
His legs felt weak after sitting, but he made himself stand and walk towards the front door. He’d snapped again, just like he always did. He’d worked himself into another corner and lashed out like a scared dog. Simon was outside before he could fully process what was happening. His legs carried him down the grassy hill and down to the beach. The sand caught on his clothes before he ran into the surf, the water swirling around him as he pushed further in until he could no longer touch the bottom.
He forced himself to tread water, rhythmically moving as the waves rose and fell around him. He took deep breaths, the smell of salt forcing his senses inward. His skin still burned from inside, and the tension coiled, but he could feel it lessening. Grace would be proud of him if he could see him right now. Normally, Simon refused to even go to the beach, and now here he was out in the middle of the sea.
Simon didn’t want to think of Grace right now, though. He didn’t want to think about what he was going to say when he woke up, or how he was going to have to apologize again, or how he never had the right words to say or the time to explain. More importantly, he didn’t want to explain why. Why he hid. Why he lashed out at Rocky. Why even out here he couldn’t stop thinking of him. Despite everything he’d been through, the hells he had experienced, his brain kept returning to Ryland Grace.
Simon knew he loved Grace. He knew it like he knew that he needed to breathe. At some point in time, Ryland had become embedded into his being. All of them had Rocky and Adrian too. They were a part of him. He would give his life to protect every single one of them; he’d go back in that god-forsaken submarine for them. He wanted to live, but he’d die if it meant one of them could survive.
Yet Rocky was right; he was scared. He was so deeply scared. Not in the way he had been under the ocean of blood, or when Filament Station blew around him. This wasn’t a primal fear. It didn’t make his skin crawl or fight for his life.
For once in his life, he was scared because he was comfortable.
Nothing was threatening him here. Food was plentiful, and beds were soft. The stars were alive, and he could watch their artificial sun rise every morning and set in the evenings. There was no holy war he needed to prepare for, no secret rooms people never came out of. It was comforting. It was warm. It was so utterly safe. It was new, and it scared him.
Simon laughed at himself then. An honest full-body laugh that rippled in the water around him. Tears ran down his cheeks and mixed with the droplets of water before soaking into the sea. The sound of his laugh echoed around him, most likely making him sound like a madman, but Simon didn’t care. All his life had been one uphill battle that never relented. He’d grown up in a cult he never fully believed in, only for their ideals to get him thrown in prison. Then he was offered freedom, and for that time he believed maybe he could escape. Maybe his short miserable life hadn’t been all for nothing. Then he was drowning in blood and sweat, painfully alone.
Now though, he had everything he could ever need. More than need, anything he could ever want, and he was what? Going to turn it all away? Hadn’t he begged to live? Hadn’t he fought until his last moments to survive? Was he really going to make a waste of two lives?
The thought hit him bitterly. All his life he just wanted to have a choice. For someone to listen to him, and actually mean it. Not out of pity, or out of orders to, but just because they wanted to listen to Simon. Now he guessed he was making the choice to push it all away. He wasn’t proud of the thought, nor did he want it to be the truth, but his first instinct was to push it away, so he was going to grant himself that. If he so badly wanted to be like this, why fight it?
Simon was so lost in his head he barely heard the trill of his name from the shore. It was a low and soft trill, instantly allowing Simon to recognize who was there. Adrian’s blue-green form was sitting on the edge of the beach. They looked comfortable, like they’d been there for a while; for how long Simon couldn’t be sure. He wasn’t really aware of how much time he had spent out in the water.
Slowly he began to paddle back to shore. He wondered distantly if this was what it would be like to be called home by a parent after a long day outside. Simon knew the stories, the ones where families were all together, and siblings grew up alongside each other. Where kids were called home by a distantly ringing bell, skin covered in sun-kissed freckles, and parents waited at a dinner table full of food to hear about the trouble they had caused that day. He wondered if Grace had experienced that life before here.
He brushed that thought away as quickly as it appeared. Simon reached the sand too quickly for his liking, already drawing near to Adrian, who still patiently waited. He figured they knew about everything that had happened; if not from Rocky, they were beyond smart enough to take a guess at the events. The sand crunched under him as he sat down next to Adrian.
“Hello, Simon.” They said as calmly as ever.
“Adrian. What are you doing out here?”
“Not safe to swim alone. Adrian watch.”
Simon let out a huff of air. “I’m sure I'll be fine out here. I’ve got to head back and check on Grace anyway.”
“Grace not awake yet. Rocky told Adrian.”
“....Then you know about everything?”
“Yes.”
Simon stilled for a moment. He figured that there would be more…anger toward him. He’d gotten Grace hurt; he’d snapped at Rocky. He was a ticking time bomb that owed everyone an apology, if he even let himself get that far. Instead, Adrian seemed to be their regular self.
“Look, I’m sorry for everything. I’m not, I’m not built for this place.” Simon took a deep breath, forming the words before they could spill out. “I think I need to be separated.”
It was still around them, the silence only broken up by the water lapping against the shore. The words were out in front of them, growing stale. Simon had said what he needed to say and had done what he thought was best. He’d live on his own in his own small little bubble, and everyone else would be all the better for it. He knew eventually the wrongness in his chest would fossilize.
“If Simon wants, then Adrian start now.”
“What?” Simon released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “You’ll let me?”
“If that is what Simon want. Adrian will gather team. New biodome ready quick.”
Simon felt very unsteady where he stood. This was happening. He got his wish. Adrian had listened to him, was listening to him. “Yes, yes. I want this…It’s bigger than me.”
Adrian shifted their carapace in a way that Simon had come to know was acknowledgement. There was no pushback from them, no telling him that he needed to think more or that there weren’t the resources. Adrian began walking toward the path to Grace’s house.
“Hey! Where are you going!” Simon called after them, walking to catch up.
“See Mate Rocky.”
That caught his attention. Obviously, Rocky and Grace would find out; he couldn’t disappear without them wondering where he went. He was going to tell them first. He owed them that much.
“I am going to tell them. You don’t need to.”
Adrian continued to walk on. “Not going to Rocky to share Simon news. Adrian miss mate. Adrian going to mate.”
“Can I come?” Simon found himself asking before the words fully made sense.
“Simon already follow.”
They slowly made their way up the hill. It wasn’t a long walk down, but up it always felt like miles longer. Neither of them spoke for a while, just letting the soft tinkling of Adrian’s xenonite suit fill the air around them. About halfway up, Adrian paused.
“Simon listen to Adrian?” They asked, one of their legs stomping twice against the ground.
Simon nodded and waited for Adrian to continue.
“On day when Rocky ship launch, Rocky and Adrian spent much time together. Rocky Adrian not know when next time together would be…Not know if was next time.” Their steps slowed for a second before continuing forward suddenly. “Adrian watch ship leave. Many year pass. No sign of Rocky or crew. Many Eridian mourn…Adrian mourn…Adrian mourn long time. Then Rocky come home…..Rocky come home Adrian still mourn. Much lost time. Much change…..Worried Rocky not love change Adrian.”
Simon didn’t know what to say, if anything. He just nodded his head as the story continued.
“Adrian change, yes. Rocky also change. Rocky Adrian learn again. Not same, never same. Rocky Adrian learn new.”
“You two really love each other,” Simon stated, there was no question about it.
“Yes. Rocky love Adrian. Adrian love Rocky.” They said, one of their claws brushing over the small brown marking they had.
“It’s a beautiful story, Adrian....I, Grace and—” Simon cut himself off quickly, not wanting to finish that thought. “Why tell it to me?”
“Just a story for Simon.”
They had reached the top of the hill and were now just feet away from Grace’s home. The sun had fallen behind them, casting two long shadows towards the front of the house that seemed to glow in the dimming light. The door was still shut, curtains drawn tight, just like he had left it. It would have been easy to pretend no one was inside, to just go home and curl back up on his mattress. But something in Simon gently called him to stay, and for once he let himself.
He slowly sat down, feeling the cold stone against his skin as he let himself take root. Simon turned so he could look out over the biodome. Soon he’d leave this little world behind. He’d never have to question his place, or wonder if he was taking up too much space. He’d have what he wanted. He was sure of it. He had to be sure of it.
Adrian settled beside him as if to look at the same view. He didn’t know what it looked like from their perspective, but he knew their sight could never capture the depths of the colors. The rich brown stones laced with blue. The white wash of tide mixed with the grainy sand. The rainbow of colors that shone from the xenonite glass. All these wonders reserved for Grace and him. Tears began to form in his eyes, spilling without any threat. There was no need to pretend they weren’t there. In all the things he had been told about in stories of Heaven and life in The Last Tree, Simon didn’t think anything could compare to the sheer beauty laid out in front of him.
“Simon leaking.” Adrian sang beside him.
“I am. It’s beautiful here.”
“...Simon still want new biodome?”
He shook his head, not trusting himself to answer that question. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Rocky?”
“Rocky come out soon.”
Simon looked at Adrian questioningly. Rocky was watching Grace; there was no way he would leave his side until he was guaranteed to be okay. The front door clicked open behind them, causing Simon to whip around faster than he expected. Rocky was already sprinting across the small distance, chittering as he sat down next to his mate. Simon would have found the sight cute if his attention wasn’t drawn elsewhere.
In the doorway, Grace stood glowing in the evening sun. Neither said anything, just stared at the other. Simon had always found Ryland to be gorgeous. The blond hair and blue eyes matched perfectly with his tall frame, which showed no signs of the life tainted by the Quiet Rapture. He was healthy and strong. Soft yet not weak. When Simon first saw him, he thought he was too perfect for this world. Something this light dragging him from a pool of blood, telling him not to be afraid, was too poetic to be real. To him at that moment, Ryland Grace was an angel.
Eden had always told stories of angels. Stories of fear. Stories of mercy. Stories of beings of incomprehensible terror and light sent to guide sinners on their path. When Grace had pulled him out of that submarine, he was performing the ultimate act of mercy, sparing him from his suffering and bringing him to a world where the stars still shined, and everything he could need was at his fingertips.
Yet now, as Grace stood in his doorway, Simon saw something different. His hair was tousled from sleep and panic, and bandages covered his face. His eyes were tired, rimmed with the faint red of crying, and were accompanied by a sad smile. Simon didn’t see an angel; Simon saw him as so utterly human.
Grace started to walk towards him, each step unsure. Simon felt a shuddering sob rack through his body as he began to move. He didn’t understand why he was so drawn to him, it defied all his logic, but he still pushed forward. Just as they were about to meet in the middle, Grace stopped walking and sank to the ground.
“Simon, I am so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of the things I did.” Tears had begun to fall down Grace’s cheeks, while Simon was frozen in a complete standstill. “I’m impulsive and brash. I– You are such a good person, Simon, much better than I am… and I shouldn't have kissed you, and I shouldn’t have said I love you, I shouldn’t have put that pressure on you I…”
Grace’s apology fizzled out into background static as he tried to comprehend what he was saying. Sure, the words made sense. He could follow what Grace was saying and knew exactly what he was apologizing for, but he couldn’t wrap his head around it. Grace was calling him the better person. He was saying that Simon deserved more. He was trying to take back his words because he thought he was pressuring Simon.
Grace was scared.
Not scared of Simon, or scared of what he could be.
He was scared that he’d hurt Simon.
Simon fell down to his knees in front of Grace snapping him from his rambling. Simon’s brain which had felt so painfully clouded the whole day became crystal clear. His arm instantly shot up and cupped the side of Grace’s face, lifting his eyes from the ground to meet his own. Simon saw his watery blue eyes darting around his face looking for answers, for forgiveness or hatred.
Simon leaned in and kissed Ryland with as much passion and emotion as he could. Every word he wanted to say, every word he knew he would never be able to say, he tried to channel it. If this is the one way he could get this point to Ryland he was going to do everything in his power to make sure he knew.
After a few seconds, Simon pulled away to look for any signs of discomfort, but before he could fully pull away, Ryland’s lips crashed back into his own. Caught off guard, the change in pressure almost sent both of them to the ground, but they quickly found their balance again. Simon’s hand left Ryland’s cheek to tangle in his hair, the golden locks soft under his touch. He could bury himself in the texture for the rest of his life. Ryland also shifted, his arms encircling his arms around Simon’s neck in a loose hold.
The world stilled around them, all of it focusing on them. All that existed to Simon was the feeling of Ryland under his touch. His lips on his own. His hands tangled in the hair that was still wet from the ocean. A warm bliss flowed through Simon, melding him with Grace and muddling where he started and the other ended. It was simple, it was sweet. It was everything Simon had wanted, and never knew he wanted.
Slowly they parted from each other, resting against one another as they breathed in the same air. Both of them silently swayed as they cradled the other in their arms. They held onto each other as if the world would end if they parted.
“Ryland?” Simon softly spoke after a long moment had passed.
“Yes, Simon?”
“I love you. I’m afraid, and I’ve lived in that fear for so long.” He said, opening his eyes to look into Grace’s. “It was easier. It was normal, but you aren’t anything like my normal Ryland… I think I’m finally worn out of running. I love you, Ryland Grace.”
“...I’m afraid too,” Ryland said with a small breathy laugh. “I don’t know how to do this, or if I could even be a good partner…But I love you too, Simon. I love you so much.”
Simon could have sworn that he was smiling brighter than the sun at that moment. As the last rays of the day shone on the two of them, he pulled Ryland in once again. For once, he was sure of one thing in his life. Tomorrow morning, when the same sun rose again, Ryland Grace would be his, and he would be Ryland Grace’s.