Chapter Text
It’s been a month, a month since Simon woke up, a month since he learned he’s no longer in that stupid fucking submarine. A month since he learned that he’s in fact still alive. A month when he felt like he was being lied to.
Simon didn’t know if he believed it. He hoped when he died he would end up back in his Mother's arms, weeping as he tried to explain himself as she shushed him and told him it would be alright…
That he’s alright and that she’s just proud that he made it that far— that she wasn’t disappointed in what he did for survival. What he became. What they made him do— he….. That never happened. He should stop hoping it would. It was a stupid dream, a stupid hope. A falsehood that he held against his chest like it would tear him into two.
He huffed, crossing his right arm across his body. Holding his stump as close to his chest as he could, there wasn’t much, but he could try. Trying to get that feeling of hugging himself.
He was stuck in some fucking room, in some eccentric doctor's home. They built a hospital room in this man’s house for Simon's sake, which pissed him off because it made him feel like a child who was locked away for being troublesome. He was a grown man.
The eccentric Doctors name was Ryland Grace. And he Let Simon into his home, giving him his food, his.. Things! And it pissed Simon off and continued to do so.
And look, right on schedule, he noticed Ryland standing in the doorway. Waiting to be let in, it felt like he was mocking him, giving Simon privacy? Letting Simon make the choice? Laughable. No one gave Simon a fucking choice anymore. What changed?
He pretended he hadn’t noticed the man. Truthfully, Simon wanted to see what would happen. Usually he would invite himself in, sit down in a chair across the room and talk.
Talk about whatever is on his mind, and Simon would ignore it. Simon hasn’t spoken a word to Ryland.
Today will not be any different.
Ryland invited himself in again, it seemed. Simon watched as he instead moved to his side. He looked like he wanted to say something. Simon made a gesture with his hand.
Ryland seems to get the message and begins to speak.
“Uh. Okay! We are nearing the end of your treatment!” Ryland explained, the corners of his lip upturning. “And that means— soon! You will be allowed outside this room,” he smiled, he seemed actually excited for Simon.
Simon blinked, huh. He titled his head to the side, debating if he should say something. He probably should, he doesn’t know what.. He knows he isn’t grateful. Why would he be?
He would rather be dead. He would rather be at the bottom of that ocean, horribly mutated. Maybe even burnt alive from the acidity of the blood. There's a lot more better things he would rather be than in this room.
“We just... Need more information about you…
I don’t... Really want to make guesses about what you like.” Ryland began to ramble, asking something about Simon's hobbies, what Simon did as work before, what he liked. Simple things like that, Simon stopped paying attention half way through and instead focused on the wall.
Simple as that? A month sitting here and letting them poke and prod him, with him not saying a fucking word, and were they going to let him go.? Let him do as he pleases?
Let him live?
“I don’t care.” Simon spoke, the first time in a month since getting here, his voice was rough, it cracked.. And it wasn't anything of note, just a simple I don’t care. Because he doesn’t care, he doesn't know what he wants, he doesn't care what he wants. He wants to be dead, but he really can't say that to Ryland, that's informal. That’s depressing.
He didn’t even want to be here, he didn’t want help. He was quite content with his heroic efforts with the black box and his supposed death.
Ryland seemed to almost be spooked that Simon spoke, like a frightened child. He jumped slightly, Simon remarked. His expression switched between surprise and shock to a simple smile. He clapped his hands in some mock celebration before speaking again.
“That’s. Uh, not really an answer, but— I mean! If you— don’t care. Uh, we can always figure it out together! You know?”
We. Haha. Yeah. Okay.
Simon shrugged, turning his body towards the wall. He didn’t want to talk to Ryland anymore, well, actually. Listen to Ryland, it wasn’t much of a conversation to begin with, he was hoping Ryland would get the message to leave him the fuck alone. Simon felt something being placed in the lap and raised an eyebrow, turning his attention back toward Ryland once more.
“Uh. This is my laptop— you don’t. Really do much! So. I thought of you. Could watch some things? Maybe read? Uh. I don’t. Know what you like—“ Ryland was rambling again. Simon moved his hand towards the laptop, his hand pressing the on button. He hoped that Ryland wouldn’t think he was stupid and that Simon was clueless about how to work this, it wasn't hard to learn new technology. It was something that he was taught to prioritize, plus Simon liked learning new things.
“— I mean like, just until you're actually discharged by, uh— heck. What's their name again?”
Ryland was tapping his chin with his finger, trying to remember the rock alien that was Simon the doctor… Caretaker.? Simon didn’t care to be fair.
Simon was too busy focusing on the laptop. A part of him didn’t want to accept it, but he also wanted to get back into reading. He missed it. He liked books, he liked physical copies— those became rare, though he settled for whatever they had in the archive back on... Hm.
Rylands seemed to give up trying to squeeze another word out of Simon. He was actually relieved. He didn’t want to keep hearing his voice.
He turned his focus back onto Ryland once he finished, waiting for the man to leave.
Ryland brushed the back of his own neck with a sigh as he moved to leave, running his hand through his hair. Stopping at the door.
“Uh. See you later alligator.”
Rylands smiled with a wave as he moved to leave, as he was about to close the door.
“My name is not alligator.”
It seemed today was different.
and Simon doesn’t know why.