Chapter Text
Fuckkk… My head…
Simon groans, blinking his eyes open. …Where is he. There’s no one around—which he’s used to. But the place looks.. clean. That’s weird. Where’s the rust of the Iron Lung.? It throws him for a hurl.
He goes to sit up before collapsing onto his left side. He huffs and tries again. Ok, weird. Left arm is numb. He tried with JUST his right and gets up, ignoring his numb left arm. He sighs, his chest heaving. Why does his jaw hurt.? Everything hurts actually… like he was just fucking gutted—wait. Isn’t he supposed to be dead.? How’s he not dead—actually, that’s not important right now. Where he IS is more important than why he isn’t dead, just be grateful, y’know?
He gets off the bed, groaning, huffing, he feels heavy, even with the numb arm. It’s weird. He steps forward, then steps, then… god why is this so tiring? He looks around, spotting a glass panel. He makes his way towards it slowly.
”… Holy shit…” He mumbles looking out the glass. He was.. in space… He could see outside. He wasn’t in the lung. “…” He pinched his neck, worried. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t a dream. He was alive, in space. But.. what about him being a convict.?
… Oh GOD what about him being a convict?! Whoever saved his ass had to have known, right?! Oh fuck he is screwed…
He steps back, looking around. For a bathroom perhaps… He walks off, following the wall with his right hand. Damn his jaw hurts… Eventually he saw it—a door. He opened it slightly and looked inside, seeing no one inside he walked in. He looked around and spotted a mirror. Slowly he walked up to it. He hadn’t seem himself since before the lung.? What did he look like anymore.?
”…”
”……”
Holy shit.
His.. his left arm was fucking gone. Just gone. Luckily he was shirtless so he could see himself well… He had a HUGE what seemed to be a burn scar running down his left side, starting from his shoulder down to his pelvis. He paused, noticing the hair in front of the left side of his face. He swallowed and moved it—… oh this is worse. So much worse. Huge spiky teeth had torn through the skin on his jaw, making it hurt like hell. He shuddered and ran his finger along it. Yea, real. Real as can be.
He stumbles back a bit and huffs. Ok. New plan. Figure out what the FUCK happened while he was passed out. He adjusts the hair back, not wanting to look at it he starts off.
After a bit he finds what seems to be a bedroom, again, no one. He looks around and sees a bin of stuff. “… Ryland Grace…” Simon mumbles the name written on the bin. “… Huh.” He starts off again.
He pauses at the end of a hallway, holding his breath as he hears voices.
“Rocky think Grace is stupid. Grace left stranger alone for 3 hours. Go check. Go check.”
”Rock—I’m busy.”
”Grace no eat. Grace check on stranger.”
”Hey. Look. He’s asleep. He’s fine.”
“Groan.”
”… Did you just say groan to groan..??”
”Yes.”
”… What the hell…”
Simon stares at a wall, looking at his hand. Scared. Terrified. They seemed.. nice enough… But he was just… scared…
”… Grace.”
”I’m eating.”
”Grace I heard noise.”
”Probably something falling.”
“… Grace. Go check.”
”Ok! Ok. Fine.”
Simon heard someone get up. Flight or fight kicked in and uh.. he ran. He heard someone walk to where he was just hiding, pause, and start running.
”Hey!! Wait!!”
They called.
He kept running. After a few minutes he started to slow down, adrenaline wore off, he was really off balanced. Fuck that felt bad… That felt really bad… Oh fuck.
Thud.