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“It’s bigger than any of us.” Eva’s words toss around Simon’s skull as she tries to explain herself with further conclusive thoughts and reasoning that- guttingly- do make sense. Her lips move to carry along what Simon can already deduce, and he nods as if he’s listening to show that he does agree, on paper. Ridding his heart from the equation, he knows what he must already begin to mourn.
Simon exits Eva’s office, letting his legs take him to wherever it is he needs to be- too preoccupied on the sluggish reality of what that meeting means for one Dr. Ryland Grace. The man that Simon had grown to respect, working alongside him on his attempts to prove himself and his own smarts to the likes of Eva Stratt. The man that Simon had grown to quite adore and cherish as more than a colleague. The man that Simon had found himself getting a little too friendly with on karaoke night after a few drinks, making their way back to Ryland’s messy sanctioned quarters and sharing a night that Simon thought he’d outgrown.
For years- decades, even- Simon has prided himself on his strict professionalism. His analytical focus and unwavering gravitas when it’d come to the career he’d chiseled out for himself. He’d slipped here and there, leaning in temporary favor of more sybaritic opportunities during his undergrad days, but he’d graduated top of his class with his own doctorate in engineering and prioritized his status as soon as he was granted it; setting it as the focal point of his adult life.
Overall, Simon is a well-known intellectual who never lets anything get in the way of his duty. To never let anything shadow his brain and its capabilities. It was his own sacrifice he’d made for the greater good- and though the thought is rather vain, he genuinely doesn’t regard it in any lesser manner.
But.. Dr. Ryland Grace had brought something out in him. Had stirred up some rusty gears that he’d abandoned early in his youth. Butting heads at first, they’d both slowly found a way to work with each other. With such heavy implications of their unacceptable failure, Simon quickly learned to swallow his pride in the presence of Ryland’s brain. And instead, find his own hits back to match Ryland’s, almost juvenile, excuse of ‘teamwork’.
Arguments and peeves and short-tempers soon mellowed into relenting stubbornness and a mutual understanding of their situation and general irks with each other. Followed with a few ‘off-the-clock’ drinks overlooking the endless ink on The Vat, their attitudes for each other had made a full 180. Even Eva had commented on the amicable shift only a month prior to today.
Today.
The kind of day that Simon had worked his whole life for, only for it to all feel useless as Simon hovers across the bullpen, watching Ryland walk into Eva’s office; ridiculously hugged by that bright yellow coat that Simon would regularly belittle him for. The happy color only now stirs an awful dread in his gut as Ryland disappears behind the closed blinds of the office. Two men in white coats standing guard by the closed door, one with a briefcase.
For a fleeting moment, Simon thinks that maybe he could snatch that case and make a run for it.
“By any means necessary. I trust you know what that means,” Eva’s stoic words rot the logic starving in his mind. And Simon can only hope that it doesn’t come to that. He knew Ryland knew what was at stake, and he really hoped that Ryland would swallow the sacrifice and make this easier on everyone.
For the greater good.
One man for the hope of billions.
He’s our only option.
Spat words try to feed the strains of professionalism that had grown to falter when it came to Dr. Ryland Grace. Desperate latches of simple facts thrown at his shattering heart like colorful (bright yellow) bandaids, but he only felt more rot sicken his gut.
Then the white-coated duo enters Stratt’s office.
Simon stands straight up, swallowing and holding his arms over his chest in a tight cross, squeezing his right fist into his bicep. Jaw clenched so tight that he feared his teeth would be next to disintegrate.
Behind his ribs swirl a curdling poison, making it hard to breathe and difficult to focus on the matter at hand- what lies at stake if he were to intervene. It wasn’t his place to step in and try to talk Eva out of this. He wasn’t even sure it was his truth to want to do that in the first place. But it felt like his body was working against him. As if his brain and nervous system were on two separate wavelengths. And on top of it all, he was cursed in knowing exactly what was happening behind that door.
The office door busts open and out darts the sickeningly sweet shine of yellow that logically- Simon wants to be his least favorite color, but for some reason.. he’s following it like a favorable beacon. Like he has no other choice. But he fears that he can’t trust his legs to lead this time- not like only a little while prior- because he’s half-convinced that he’s following in some feeble attempt to protect the man.
It’s bigger than any of us.
His own thoughts weigh on his speed as he follows the two white-coated men chasing after the shine of yellow.
He should’ve said yes.
Simon grimaces, turning a sharp corner and shaking his head.
Why couldn’t you have just said yes?
He wants to scream.
Maybe, he’s realizing, he wants to run Ryland down himself to demand an answer out of him. To grill him himself and beg: “Why are you a coward? Why did you have to make this difficult? Why would you rather die here?”
Though now, he follows the tight mist of Ryland’s panic that infiltrates Simon’s lungs and keeps him on the heels of the two medical doctors that contain Ryland’s fate in their hands.
Left. Right. Left. Left. Down some stairs. Around a corner and past a set of double doors. A couple more rights and one painful left.
The mid afternoon sky shines a horrid yellow down on Simon’s back and the evidence of warm rain fills his nostrils as he pants, still following the pursuit. The chase opens up to dying grass and a quickly approaching electrical fence, and- and Ryland isn’t stopping. He isn’t thrown to see the barbed wire that he’ll have to climb in his attempt to escape, and selfishly, that angers Simon further. He’d expected more of Ryland. He’d hoped that the childish yet brilliant man would make the noble decision and he’d found himself bitter to not see the man Ryland must have always been. Though, maybe Simon found himself terrified of what he knew was coming next and he could only find the space to throw that fear towards the unprofessional confusion that Ryland brought out in him.
Simon slowed his run as the two white-coated men tackle Ryland to the ground, a pained grunt and manic string of pleas wetting the already humid air with awful emotion.
“No! Don’t do it!” Rylands voice breaks and Simon walks forward, closing the short distance and selfishly hoping for a final glimpse at the man’s face who’d somehow nestled himself under his skin- past the barriers that Simon had spent his whole life fortifying.
It’s bigger than any of us. Simon forces the reminder, slipping his clenched fist into his pocket and clamping his jaw tight as he looks down at panicked kyanite that land right on him. Simon feels all the air leave his lungs as his eyes lock onto Ryland’s. Love and logic recriminating the other as Simon tries to find his balance amongst the mess.
“Simon, please-,” Ryland chokes out, his voice tearing into a squeak as the needle is jammed into the back of his neck. Simon’s spine stiffens and it’s as if he can feel a separate dose of something psychosomatic infecting his veins and prompting the triumph of his logic.
“Where would you rather die?” Simon utters, lifting his chin and keeping his eyes on Ryland. His voice doesn’t even sound like his own, but he accepts the side he’s taking. He knows that even after his personal feelings involved with this decision are numbed, Ryland’s sacrifice will stand tall over it all. This isn’t about Simon, or Ryland, or even Eva. It’s about the future of all mankind.
It is, truly and utterly, bigger than any one of them.
And soon enough, Simon will agree with himself.. and hopefully start to forget the screams of the one man he could’ve let himself love.