Chapter Text
Simon hadn’t prayed in a long, long time. He’d stopped praying after he carried out his first terrible crime in the name of Eden. He didn’t think God would listen to someone like him, hell, he didn’t think God was listening to anyone at all.
But still, in those few seconds, as he felt the pressure of gallons upon gallons of blood crushing against his entire body, his mouth opened in a silent, gurgling scream, and he tried to pray. It was less of a thought-through request and more a desperate plea. ‘I DON’T WANT TO DIE DOWN HERE, I WANT TO LIVE’ His inner voice shouted out.
He felt the blood’s sickly veins snaking around his shattered body, latching into his skin and mixing his blood with the unholy conglomerate of every sorry soul trapped inside it. It wasn’t just the thirteen convicts, it was every single human who disappeared in the Quiet Rapture. He could hear them all now, whispering in his ear.
‘You will live, Simon… You will live forever in The Light… Up there is pain but down here… down here is beautiful… once your eyes can see… Let us help you…’ The voices spoke, and suddenly he felt the veins squirming beneath his skin, making its way up till it coiled around his left eye. He couldn’t see, but he could feel.
He was changing, his body mutating from the inside, working its way out. It felt like nothing he’d ever experienced before, like he was somehow being gutted without his skin ever tearing, like something was stirring his organs around. Like his bones were shifting freely inside him.
‘PLEASE STOP! FUUCK!’ His voice came out as nothing but bubbles. He burned, like his body was lit on fire. The whispering got louder and louder and louder, but then…
Then they stopped… all at once, silence.
The mutation was still very much proceeding, but slowly, it calmed, settling inside him as if going dormant, awaiting orders, ready to bounce back to life at any moment.
Simon opened his eyes just a crack, and was blinded by light. It was so bright, it hurt to look at, so he closed them again. Was this God? Was this The Light which lurked at the bottom of the blood ocean? Was he still human?
“Hey, hey, you’re alright…” The Light spoke, and Simon looked again. He suddenly realized how cold he felt. After burning for so long he’d nearly forgotten the feeling… And then he saw something taking shape through the blinding white light. An angel…
Simon forced his dry, cracked mouth to open, and the first thing that came out was a bloody cough. He lurched forward, a surge of pain erupting through his body every time his chest spasmed.
“Don’t try to speak, you’ll only make the pain worse. You’re safe here, so focus on resting.” The angel spoke, and Simon felt tears welling in his right eye… His left eye felt different. It didn’t well with tears, no, it bled.
“I-I-...” He ignored the will of a holy messenger, which was just another sin to add to the long list. “Wa-wan-na… live…” He vomited the words alongside the blood. And then he felt something, something that felt so horribly familiar. Five fingers curled around his lower arm, a palm pressing against his scolded skin.
He instinctively pulled away from the touch, regretting it as a wave of pain shot through him in response to the movement.
“Sorry! Sorry… I-I won’t do that again… But you can trust me, I’m here to help.” The angel’s voice felt soft in Simon’s ears, but he couldn’t bring his body to unclench. He was so afraid, even in the presence of such holiness, he was terrified.
Slowly his eyes adjusted, and with each new detail absorbed into his retina, the more confused and bewildered he became. The angel was wearing… a stupid shirt…? He wore… glasses? He pushed through the pain, and forced his body to sit up even as the angel begged him not to.
“Stop, your stitches! Y-you gotta lay down.” He sounded like a worried mother, and a realization was slowly dawning on the convict. He looked down at his hand, only the one. It was battered and bandaged, but it was alive. His body was alive. Simon was still alive, and he was still human.
His eyes scanned around the room. It was some kind of medical facility, but it was unlike any he’d seen before. It was clean and sterile and brightly lit. He looked up, hissing as his eyes burned at the sight of the bright ceiling light.
And then his gaze turned to the man he’d mistaken for an angel… He didn’t blame himself for making the error. The man, standing in the midst of this perfect backdrop, smiled down at him with a sincerity in his blue eyes. His eyes were so bright, like they’d seen the stars and learned to mimic their glow. They were framed by lopsided glasses, and Simon almost felt… safe…
But he quickly pushed that feeling aside. This wasn’t some holy entity, it was a human, and humans were unpredictable and dangerous.
“W-where… am I?” He shuffled away from the man, who seemed to be restraining the urge to reach out and touch him. What did he want to do, help him? Hurt him? Simon suddenly realized he was attached to several pieces of equipment. They were attached to his chest with suction cups and an IV needle was taped in place on his arm. He felt his heartbeat quickening, and he heard it beeping on the monitor.
“You’re on my ship, the Hail Mary. You’re safe.” The man answered quickly and calmly. Simon wracked his brain to try to remember how he’d got here, but every time he dug into his memories, all he could recall was the feeling of dying. He remembered the feeling of choking on blood, the feeling of his ribs shattering and crushing his lungs, he remembered the whispers of all those damned souls.
The heart rate monitor beeped faster, and Simon shook his head back and forth, clumsily yanking the suction cups off him and reaching for the IV, only for those gentle hands to grasp his arm.
“DON’T! You’ll hurt yourself-!” The man spoke cautiously, but Simon quickly reared his arm back and shoved him to the ground. He finally grabbed the IV, not even feeling the pain as he yanked it from his skin. It was just a droplet in the sea of pain he was feeling anyway. The small bruised hole in his inner elbow let out a small amount of blood, and the sight of it just made the memories come back clearer.
Veins burrowed into his skin like maggots digging into rotting meat. Voices giggled in his mind, promising that the pain was worth it, that it was the hot coal which would cleanse him of his sins, so that he could be reborn.
Something echoed through the blood, something that sounded like thunder, and with it came a reverberating through the blood like a distant heartbeat. Perhaps that was The Light, beckoning him closer.
“Here let me…” He was yanked from his memories as he realized the man was now placing a cotton ball over his tiny wound, secured with medical tape. But Simon didn’t register that this was a helpful touch, all he saw were hands touching him, hands that could hurt him, hands that could kill him and take away what he’d fought so hard to keep, and he reacted swiftly and animalistically.
Ignoring the waves of pain, he threw himself into the spectacled idiot and the two toppled onto the med bay floor. He pressed his arm down on the man’s neck, keeping him in place as he glared down at him with wide eyes.
“DON’T-! Don’t you fucking touch me… I’ll kill you… I’ll fucking kill you…” He breathed heavily, his brain throbbing in his skull and his whole body screaming in aching pain. The man shakily nodded, holding his hands up to seem non-threatening.
“Y-yeah, sorry- I-I just wanted to stop you from bleeding anymore. Y-you were covered in so much blood when we found you in that… um… the submarine…” He rambled, and Simon paused.
“You found me? A-are you… part of the consolidation?” He questioned, looking down at the blue eyed man, whose glasses were barely hanging on to his temples.
“Uhhh, nope… I-I am part of the teacher’s association though, haha.” He cracked a cheeky smile, and Simon pressed down harder against his throat, making him shut up quickly.
“You’re not C.O.I… then who are you…?” He continued questioning the man. He looked back around the room, realizing that a place like this was too advanced and tidy for the C.O.I, and certainly for Eden.
“M-my name is Dr. Ryland Grace- I-I’m a NASA scientist! I promise I am NOT trying to hurt you o-o-or anything like that. I’m just your average interstellar good samaritan.” The man, Grace, explained, and now that Simon got a good look at him, he was feeling less and less threatened.
This guy was skinny, with a healthy amount of muscles but nothing more. He looked just like his ship, tidy and advanced, with clothes that looked like they were brand new. To Simon, this was all so strange. He was used to a dog-eat-dog world, one where you were lucky to get hand-me-downs or to get medical treatment in an actual clinic by an actual doctor.
And so, certain that even in his state, he could protect himself, he removed his arm from Dr. Grace’s neck, but didn’t move, keeping the other man trapped between his thighs.
“Tell me…. Everything.” He ordered, his voice laced with something he didn’t recognize, a quiet growl from deep in his throat. He’d heard it before… but not from himself…
*****
Ryland was so unbelievably glad that Rocky was asleep right now, and that nothing would be able to interrupt his Eridian slumber, because this was… a delicate situation. He wasn’t sure what sort of interaction he’d expected from the man he’d rescued from a submarine filled to the brim with human blood, but it wasn’t this.
The man was straddling him on the floor, his legs holding him tightly in place, which would be hot if it wasn’t also incredibly scary (who was he kidding… it was also really hot), and the man’s face, which had been so soft in his sleep, was now contorted into a deep scowl, his nose crinkled and his brows furrowed.
What made things even worse was that this guy had some impressive chompers on him. His left cheek was lined with sharp, inhuman fangs that seemed to be connected to the strange mutation picked up by Armando’s bioscan. This man was human, that much he’d confirmed… but something had happened to make him… different.
“Everything…? Ok, well, I can certainly try…” He reached up slowly to fix his glasses. “Like I said, my name is Dr. Ryland Grace, I-I’m a scientist for NASA, and, well, I’m also an astronaut, although not by choice…” He began, but the man interrupted.
“NASA…? Is that the station you’re from, I’ve never heard of it.” He cocked his head to the side, probably to try to offset his weight, which was leaning pretty heavily towards his right side. Ryland and Armando had dressed the amputation as best they could, and he was relieved to see that no blood had leaked through the bandages yet. It had been a horrible sight when they started, with necrotic tissue dangling like ribbons, and the splinters of his once-intact humerus stabbing out in several directions.
He wasn’t sure what this guy was going on about. Station? Like the military? How did he not know what NASA is? Something’s still not adding up..
“Um, no, it’s an… organization… Th-they sent me on a mission to find a solution to the Petrova Line.” He continued, and the man’s confused expression only worsened. “You know… the Petrova Line? The big colony of Micro-bacteria that’s currently eating the sun… as well as a bunch of other stars in the galaxy?” His voice grew more and more anxious as he realized that this stranger was not understanding a single word coming out of his mouth.
The man’s expression suddenly changed, but it didn’t look like it was for the better. His eyes miraculously darkened even more, and in a split second, a rough, half burned hand was wrapped around Ryland’s throat, tight.
This was a fear he’d wished he’d forgotten, one he thankfully didn’t get reminded of often in this lonely spaceship, where his only friend was incapable of touching him without literally burning his skin off. But the feeling of being trapped, of being pinned to the ground, of his neck being violated with unwanted contact, it brought him back to that day, his last lucid day on Earth. His limbs stiffened, his breath hitching in his chest and his eyes widening as he looked up at the man he’d saved, who returned his kindness with violence.
But he didn’t want to blame him. He didn’t want to be angry. This man had been torn apart and put through hell, even though he didn’t know the specifics, he could tell that much from the context clues. He was scared, and alone, in an iron box with barely enough oxygen to last a day.
Was he being an idiot? Was he so desperate for human connection that he’d excuse being strangled and threatened just to have it? Perhaps he was being too submissive, but he couldn’t help it.
He couldn’t bring himself to fight back as the man with the long black hair slowly leaned in closer, his eyes never loosened their fixation on Ryland’s fearful blues. The teeth growing from his cheek seemed to jitter against each other, letting out a quiet, predatory chirping sound, like that of a crocodile.
His eyes were fascinating. One was an incredibly dark brown, nearly black, while the other was heavily damaged and/or changed by his mutation. The sclera was stained bright red, while the iris and pupil were a greyish white, like hazy fog.
“You… you really think I’m that fucking stupid…” His thumb pressed down on Ryland’s pulse. He seemed to notice how fast it was with fear, and a sickly chuckle escaped his throat.
Ryland’s mind spun in circles, being pulled in several different directions. Part of him was trapped in the past, reliving traumatic memories. Part of him was rationally scared of the man who seemed perfectly capable of murdering him even though his body was in a horrible condition. Another, much more shameful part of him, was far too distracted by how unbelievably attractive the man was, extra teeth be damned, he was so hot…
“I-I-I don’t think you're stupid, n-not at all!” He mumbled.
“Well it’s either that or you’re completely buttfucking insane, going on about saving the stars- do you even hear yourself? There are no damn stars, there hasn’t been any since ‘49. Hell, you look older than me so you should remember it even clearer… The Quiet Rapture…” The man spat, his hand tightening. Ryland sucked in a breath, meanwhile he tried to parse over the words in his brain.
Did he say ‘49? Was that supposed to be a date, like 1949? But he was talking about it as if they were both alive at the time, and Ryland might be creeping towards 40 but he ain’t that old looking. He actually thinks he looks quite young for 36.
Anyways, there was a thought forming in his head, an absurd thought, but one that could explain this all. He may not have been a theoretical physicist, but he’d watched a lot of superhero movies… so he knew a thing or two…
“P-please… just let go o-of my neck… I-I-I think I might be onto something here.” He managed to speak through the strangling. The man considered it, his face shifting before his grip finally loosened, but it didn’t lift from his neck.
“Speak.” He commanded, as if Ryland was a dog in training, which was not helping the strange sense of arousal whatsoever. Fuck, he had some dark truths to confront once he’s out from beneath this impeccable specimen of masculinity.
“Um… so, assuming I am… 'buttfucking' insane… how about you explain to me what this ‘Quiet Rapture’ is, as if I don’t already know… which I don’t…” He slipped into his teacher's voice as he slowly, carefully, under the watchful eye of his attacker, pulled himself up into a seated position, his legs still firmly trapped, but he was at least more comfortable. The man sneered, rolling his eyes before begrudgingly opening his mouth to speak.
“Alright… It was 2349 EIC… I was thirteen years old and living on Eden Station… When all of a sudden, in the blink of an eye, every single star, and every single planet with even a CHANCE to sustain life just… vanished, leaving nothing but the star’s leftover light… phantoms in the void, slowly fading with each passing year” The man explained, and Ryland felt his stomach twist as he listened.
“People panicked, thousands died in the first couple days, either from the hysteria or from suicide… but they were the lucky ones, they didn’t have to suffer through the next three decades of hell. The few humans that were left on space stations and moon colonies fought wars over the stupidest things… until a new government subjugated the riots and created some semblance of order… The Consolidation Of Iron… Some fucking heroes they are.” He continued.
What he was describing was a cataclysm beyond human understanding, something that was theoretically impossible, but the way he spoke, the way his eyes fluttered as if switching between the present and the memories of the past, it was impossible to deny that he was telling the truth, at least his own truth.
Everything about the man supported the claim, his clothes, his body, his submarine, hell, even his eyes. His eyes were dark and didn’t catch the light the way they should. They were the eyes of someone from a starless, hopeless world…
Ryland hadn’t realized he’d shown his sympathy on his face, not until the man let out another low growl and leaned back, his body trembling so slightly that Ryland wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t so close. He must be in so much pain… He must be used to it.
“Well, umm… this is going to probably sound equally as crazy- NOT THAT I DON’T BELIEVE YOU- but… the stars are still here, and so are the planets. There are no space stations… and the year is 2037, not 2349…” He explained, and he watched the man’s face go completely blank, the cogs in his head screeching to a halt.
“Has… has Luna Colony been established?” His voice had lost its deadly edge, not entirely, but now he just sounded confused and scared.
“Luna Colony?” Ryland repeated back quizzically.
“The first moon colony… founded back in the Old World year of 1992…” He answered. Ryland’s lips pursed, and he quickly went over his memories and, yeah, no, no moon colonies, although that would be awesome.
“Nope… so… either you’re buttfucking insane, hah… or you’ve stumbled into a whole ‘nother universe, Buddy…” He smiled.
*****
Simon felt like his brain was breaking. This was too much. This place is too bright, too clean. This ‘Dr. Grace’ was too chipper, too unassuming, and now he was telling him that there are stars and planets out there in the void? It had to be a trick. There had to be a catch. If this was real, then there had to be a catch, because reality doesn’t give anything for free. But Simon wouldn’t pay this time, no, he was done paying, this time he’d collect, this time he’d take control.
He was done being a fucking slave to ever owner imaginable, to Eden, to C.O.I, to a god of blood… He would definitely not be one to this blonde weasel in a stupid shirt rambling about stars.
“Are you ok? Y-y-your breathing… I think you should get back on the bed…” Grace’s voice cut through the fog and Simon snarled.
“SHUT UP- jus-just shut up.” He covered his eyes with his hand as he felt a boiling inside him, something gurgling between his organs, wanting to come out. He felt the urge to collapse into the fetal as the mutation coiled through his veins and muscles, and he forced himself to stand and to hold his head up. Grace skittered backwards and quickly picked himself off the floor, standing against the wall as Simon stumbled back and grabbed the edge of the bed.
Grace’s attention seemed to shift to one of the med bay computers. Its screen was flashing red, and Grace carefully made his way over to see. Simon let out a sharp scream as he felt something wrapping around his spine and threatening to tear through his back, and now he couldn’t stop himself from falling to his knees, his arm wrapping around his torso as he doubled over in pain. His tolerance was high, but this was unbearable.
“FUUUCK-!” He shouted. Right now, part of him wished he’d died in that ocean, so he didn’t have to feel this, so he didn’t have to keep struggling. But he wasn’t giving up, not when he’d come this far.
“Shoot… ok, ok-” Grace’s feet came into view as Simon stared down at the ground, trying to keep his eyes open as the pain threatened to send him back into unconsciousness.
And then he felt something sprouting along his spine, and he heard Grace yelp in shock. It was almost satisfying, but with each successful release, the mutation began to turn its attention elsewhere.
Fuck, he was transforming. He cursed under his breath. He told himself- PROMISED himself, that no matter what he would not become like that monster, the Blood Eel. He wanted to punch himself. This was his body, it was his to control, but he was losing it, he was losing himself. He’d survived so long, and this is what he got?
His face began to feel different, his right cheek splitting to match his left with newly formed teeth, and his vision clouded with blood.
Everything was red…
“HEY, look at me.” hands roughly tugged Simon up, moving to grasp the sides of his face, and now, Simon could see blue.
“Your cortisol levels are making the mutation worse. You need to calm down. I know it’s hard, I know you're in pain and I know you don’t trust me, but I am here to help. You’re safe here. Nothing will hurt you.” Grace’s eyes stared unblinking with a confidence that seemingly came out of thin air. It certainly wasn’t there before.
Simon stared back, and although a part of him told him that this was a mistake, that everything that came out of this cheery man’s lips was a lie, a manipulation. But right now, he clung to those words like his last hope. It was the lesser of two evils, he’d do anything to stay human, or at least stay as human as possible.
“W-wh-whaah-” He stammered, trying to slow his rapid breathing as he felt his veins squirm beneath his burning skin. Sweat draped his entire body, and he just felt so disgusting. “What-... do you want… f-from me?” He forced the words out, and Grace cracked another smile. Why’d he do that? What was there to smile about?
“I’d say nothing… but I’d be lying…” He shrugged his shoulders, and Simon’s heart sank. Here came the catch. The price he’d told himself he wouldn’t accept. The tug on his tight leash, choking him.
“I’d kinda like… for you to be my friend… if you want to be…” The reveal made everything pause. Simon was stunned. It was so pathetic, so juvenile, it… It made Simon forget about everything, and he began to laugh.
Grace’s face turned a shade of red as he realized what he’d just said, and he quickly tried to backtrack as Simon continued to laugh, even though the jittering of his chest was making his broken rips ache and sting, he still laughed.
“I-I-I mean… I haven’t seen another human i-in almost 9 years! Sure I have Rocky but… but it’s also kinda nice to have another human around…” He pushed his gold colored glasses up on the bridge of his straight nose.
Simon’s laughter died down as he felt his body returning to normal. His right cheek reshaped, the teeth retracting into his face, and the things which sprouted from his back (fins or spines, if he were to guess) also melded back into him. He was still human.
“You’re… just an idiot…” His voice came out sharper than he’d intended as he pushed his battered body against the wall. Grace frowned.
“Did you not hear when I said I’m a NASA scientist? That’s like, the opposite of an idiot.” He argued, and Simon watched as he gestured with his hands. He was more animated than anyone he’d ever met before, and everything about him seemed to glow with a radiance, with a life, that Simon could hardly comprehend. He really was in another world. Someone like this could never exist in his lightless universe, where everyone is just so, so tired and ready to give up.
“Two things can be true at once…” He muttered, and Grace snickered.
“You’re not the only one who shares the sentiment… My buddy also thinks I’m the most idiotic genius in the world.” He replied, and Simon picked up on a plot hole…
“I thought you said you were alone.” His voice hardened, and a brief shock crossed the scientist’s face. Simon readied himself to attack again, the voice in his head yelling ‘I told you so! He’s a liar! A fucking liar!’.
“I said I haven’t seen a HUMAN in almost 9 years… Rocky isn’t a human.” He began, his voice laced with slight trepidation. Simon was taken aback. The C.O.I had confiscated all animals shortly after taking power, so the idea of Grace’s ‘buddy’ being an animal hadn’t even occurred to him.
“Rocky is an alien.” He said, and Simon pursed his lips, furrowing his brows and staring at the blond man. Maybe he was an idiot, a genius, and buttfucking insane. Three things can be true at once.
“And, as you can see, he is right there, in his ball. Usually he’d sleep in his terrarium but I didn’t want to leave YOU alone and he doesn’t like to sleep alone so… he’s right there.” Simon followed Grace’s gesturing and saw a weird geometric sphere of… glass? It had a small boulder inside it… Had Grace gone mad from isolation and started talking to a rock?
“I- uh… he’s usually more… active… but his species literally CANNOT be woken up once they fall asleep so even if I blast heavy metal from every speaker on this ship, he is staying right where he is till he’s done…” Grace seemed to realize how crazy he must look, or perhaps he just read it on Simon’s face. Simon wasn’t exactly the type to hide his judgements.
“Alright, Doc… how about you just tell me how you found me?” He changed the subject, and Grace was happy to be rid of the awkwardness.
“Um, well, me and Rocky are currently on course for his home planet, Erid, and we should be there in about 30 hours give or take. So we were just chilling and rewatching the same movie for the millionth time when Mary’s alarm all of a sudden goes off and I rush to see what’s happening and there was a damn WORMHOLE which just APPEARED out of nowhere. At first I was scared we’d get sucked in but then I realized it’s not actually a black hole, it's a white hole, which scientists have always theorized about but were always thought of as nothing more than science fiction-!” Grace rambled, and Simon groaned, his brain hurting from listening to the mile-a-minute monologue. Grace noticed, and paused before speaking in a much less energetic way.
“Your submarine came out of the wormhole, and then it closed behind you… We reeled you in, and now you’re here…” He explained more succinctly. Simon blinked, feeling something strange inside him, but it wasn’t the mutation, it was something he’d never felt before, as he listened to Grace’s voice go on about how they’d cut through the iron hull and dragged him out covered in blood and practically dead. The feeling swirled in his chest and made his muscles loosen from their previous tension.
He looked down at his body, really looking at what Grace had done. His wounds were wrapped in clean bandages, his skin and hair clean of grime and gore. He’d fought to keep Simon alive. He felt his eyes stinging, but he stubbornly refused to cry, to show that amount of weakness.
“Th-thank you…” He muttered, his head hanging, his face obscured by his thick hair. Grace hummed quizzically, shifting into a more relaxed position as the two men sat on the med bay floor.
“I… I really thought… that I’d never get out of that thing… Thanks… for getting me out…” He felt embarrassed as the words left his mouth, but he had to say it. He had to thank the man who’d saved him from the blood.
He looked up again, and Grace was smiling. He was smiling at Simon. He was smiling because of Simon. All this time, he’d clawed and scratched for his right to remain alive, and nobody had ever tried to help. He’d been alone, even before he descended into those crimson depths, he’d been alone.
But this weird man… he cut through iron and blood for him, he’d sacrificed his time and resources to heal his broken body, to heal a man he’d never even met before.
“No need to thank me, it’s not like I would’ve just left you there to die… Nobody deserves to die alone like that…” Grace’s voice quieted near the end, and Simon felt this strange new emotion overflowing with every passing second.
“Oh- wait- your eye.” Grace jumped up onto his knees to grab a cloth off the nearby table, and Simon realized that a bloody tear had fallen from his mutated eye. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t really see out of that eye anymore… His field of vision seemed smaller, and he had to crane his neck to see anything to his left.
But he didn’t have to, because soon Grace was back where he could see him, and Simon tensed, sucking in a breath as the scientist extended his hands towards him, one free while the other held the damp cloth.
Simon forced himself to relax, wordlessly consenting to the touch, and Grace began to carefully wipe the blood off his face.
*****
Ryland wondered if they’d have to eventually get Armando to remove the mutant eye, since it kept randomly bleeding like this. He also thought about the way this strange man had so quickly changed his tune. Moments ago he was threatening to crush Ryland’s throat, and now he was laid back, allowing him to place his free hand on his lower jaw while his other worked to get the blood out of his scruffy black facial hair.
He thought about the slow gradient of his face when Ryland had explained how they’d found him, and how they’d saved his life. His eyes softened with each word, before looking down at his chest, at his bandages. And then he thanked him, in a voice so somber that it made Ryland’s heart ache.
The man’s skin was rough and sweaty, and littered with scars of various ages. He’d been through so much, seemingly all his life. His muscular body didn’t look like it’d been earned by going to the gym and eating healthy, it looked like it had been earned through sheer necessity. He was a worker, a soldier, a man who’d fought for everything.
The ache in Ryland’s heart got worse and worse as he put aside the now bloodstained cloth and leaned back. The first human he’d seen, he’d touched, in almost a decade. His fingertips almost felt as if they were vibrating from the contact, as if his nerves were resurrected by the man’s overwhelming heat.
Even though this man was definitely stronger and definitely more of a ‘man’s man’ than him, he still felt an overwhelmingly protective urge, one that he wasn’t planning on fighting…
He looked up from his twiddling thumbs, and saw that even more blood was pouring from his eye, while tears fell from the other. Suddenly, he was toppling over again, as a bandaged arm wrapped around him, and a sobbing face tucked itself into his neck.
“Wow, ok, yeah…” He mumbled as he felt his heart rate skyrocketing. He wanted to pull him away and ask what was wrong, if he needed anything, if there was anything Ryland could do, but he tried to turn off his problem solving brain, and simply wrapped his arms around the other man.
“N-nobody’s…. ever been th-this kind to me before-” The man’s voice was muffled between the two of them, shaky between sobs that sounded like they been buried for years, and Ryland tried not to spend all his focus on the contact, in the way their legs tangled together, the way the man’s massive pecks pressed against his scrawny chest. It made him feel perverted, but he was loving this. He tried to ignore the selfish joy, and focus on being present, on being the source of comfort this man desperately needs right now.
“But… all I did was keep you from dying…?” Ryland let out a small snicker, and the following silence spoke volumes.
They laid on the med bay floor for a long while. Ryland’s back was throbbing from being pressed against the hard metal floor, but he endured. He kept telling himself that if this guy can survive whatever he went through, then he can survive a little longer laying on the ground.
Until he realized that the man was no longer crying, nor was he conscious. He shifted slightly, trying to see whether or not his new human friend was actually asleep, but all he saw was a mass of voluminous black hair and an incredibly broad, entirely limp body.
“Hey…” He nudged him, and got no response. Yup, he’d knocked himself out, and now a new realization was dawning on the doctor. How the hell was he gonna get up???