Chapter Text

'I just want to live. Is that so wrong?'

There it was again. That phrase. It rewrote something primal in them. Something that they had long since given up. It didn't matter how they pressed their palms to their ears or how they screamed to cover up the noise, so much noise, always so much noise, they could still hear it. How long had it been since the man in the ocean Simon had first whispered that phrase and shattered their heart? The desperation to survive, to keep on living in a world that didn't give a shit about any of them...and yet he still craved it; craved being able to live. Hope still lived in his heart, and every whimper, every plea, every shout of anger. Char listened as that hope diminished. Bit by bit until they were left grasping at the threads of his heart, just hoping, pleading, begging to hear him again. To know that he was still down there fighting. That he was still alive.

'Why doesn't anyone else want that?'

When was the last time they'd wanted that? When was the last time that the will to live had gripped their very core and forced them to keep going?

When they gave up the first part of themselves to the ocean.

The Ocean answered the question, its waves crashing across the desolate shore of its moon, painting Char’s shoes in its deep crimson. Deadlights painted the moon with their dying fury. Ephemeral traces of their radiance allowed for barely enough light to see across the barren stone shore. The crimson waters greedily ate whatever light fell upon it. The Blood Ocean took all that touched it and refused to let go.

How long ago had they arrived? When had they lost the kind of hope that Simon carried with his every word? Days? Months? Years? It was so hard to tell, it was so hard to keep track anymore. No sun guided their days anymore. The ocean roiled and screamed, the stars drifted by, but none of it provided a proper sense of flow. Char was already there when the first ship arrived, its metal coffin loaded and ready. Its occupants, the scientists, were excited to explore what lay below the crimson tides. Char had heard them, too, the same way they had heard Simon. The Ocean made sure that they heard everything. Voices full of hope that devolved slowly to screams full of pain and desperation, only for another to come after. A man with a soul of steel. He'd chosen his death, embraced it. Even as his light faded, he remained resolute. Char had cried for them all, arms wrapped around their legs and face turned towards an uncaring Void above.

Simon had started no different from the others; another soul sacrificed to the monster made of red and pain. The Blood Ocean. Suddenly alive with its captured souls. Char had listened, been forced to hear as the Blood Ocean woke to his pain. To his fear and desperation. To his guilt. And so Char listened too. To all of it. To the Ocean, to Ava, to the remnants from what had come before. More important than anything else to Simon.

They had decided their end before Simon had ever arrived. They'd walk into that forsaken Ocean and drown themself in the sorrows that lay beneath. A fitting end. They'd dwelled here for too long among rock and blood and hollow skies. Hope had long since fled. There was no going home, no being rescued. The Ocean had made sure of that from the very moment it called them to this place. They'd already given up so much to survive as long as they had. It wasn't worth it to give up even a single shred more. At least this way, they would die mostly human.

'And then I'm free?'

Those words had changed everything. Hope still lingered in them. Pain. One phrase, and Char had hesitated, their feet mere inches from an Ocean already churning to claim its prize. They had backed away, waited, and listened.

Days had passed, the tow ship lingered, and Simon was slowly dying beneath. Char's very heartbeat had become dependent on his next breath, his next words. They needed to know that he was still trying, that there was still hope.

Under it all, the Blood Ocean whispered. It whispered to them with its constant promises. It whispered to Simon. It whispered to the Girl. Char wasn't sure when they had figured out how it would end, how Simon would end, but they knew all the same.

'I just want to go home.'

'Haven't I done enough?'

Simon was becoming the ghost that would haunt them forever, and Char couldn't stand it. The Blood Ocean swelled and shook at what was coming.

'And then I'm free.'

'This is bigger than me.'

Suddenly, Char was standing, screaming at everyone who couldn't hear them, at a Blood Ocean that could.

They screamed at Ava, who kept demanding more of a man who had already given everything to a cause he'd never willingly joined. They screamed at the Girl, whose contemptuous nature had driven them to destroy everyone and everything she once stood for. They screamed at the Blood Ocean that coveted the Light so much that it destroyed and claimed anything that might grant it access.

They screamed at for Simon. Simon, who so desperately wanted to live but had still chosen to give up everything for the future of a smattering of people who wouldn't even remember his name.

It wasn't fair.

"Please!"

The tree was growing, expanding in a way that even the Blood Ocean could not have predicted. Time was running out. Soon, it would be too late to make a difference. To change what was happening. To save him.

How much more were they willing to give? Especially for a stranger?

.

.

.

.

.

"Everything."

~ Simon ~

Stars. Ghost lights. Faded hope and beautiful torment splayed out above him, and for the longest moment, Simon thought that the afterlife was as cruel and unforgiving as living had been to him. To think that even in death, the possibility of hope could still be out there, just outside of his reach...

It was the perfect hell for the Butcher.

He'd expected an ocean of blood. To have to navigate a world in red, all while his body mutated and changed, becoming something unrecognizable. He'd never again get to see the grove. Never see his Mother. An ocean of blood was everything he deserved.

He'd wanted so much more. Hoped and dreamed of so much more.

Simon had blood on his hands long before coming here; he had been drowning in it his whole life. It was a mercy that his brothers weren't here to admonish him for his failings. Hell was much quieter than he thought it would be. Colder too. The rock against his back was grating, its chill seeping into his bones. He'd been so hot before, down there, that this seemed both a reprieve and a torture. Even as the waves lapped at his feet, Simon shivered.

Waves?

Something was wrong. Why was he cold? Why was he not below the ocean? Why didn't anything hurt? How was he seeing the stars?

A few long blinks followed as he tried to make sense of everything and came up with nothing. Simon pressed himself up onto his elbows and frowned at the view before him. He squinted against the darkness, focusing on what little light the stars provided. The blood ocean spread vast beyond his toes, waves of red gently lapping at a rocky shore. It would be beautiful if he didn't feel like vomiting at the sight of it. White rock spread to his left and right, creating a pale coastline under a speckled sky.

"What the...fuck?"

The trembling in his voice disappeared under the soft lapping of the blood ocean, and Simon turned frantic eyes towards his own body. The sensation of changing, morphing, becoming more, still lingered below his skin. Skin that was perfect and whole, unblemished by the destruction that had been wrought upon him down below. A missing left sleeve told the story of an arm that Simon was sure to be missing when he first turned his gaze towards what had previously been a ruined shoulder. Blood covered his body. Most of it had already begun to dry, flaking away as he raised his arms and held them against each other. Arms. Two. The shock of the sight had his heart thrumming, pounding in his chest as if it too was surprised to be working. A chill broke out across his flesh. Simon flexed the fingers of his left arm and relished the sensation that it brought, the muscles tightening and releasing. Not a single ache remained, no signs that it had been violently ripped from his body. A quiet sob tore through him. What had it all been worth? He'd given up everything that he was and all that mattered to him. Why was he still here? Why was he whole?

Had he even made a difference?

"What the fuck!?"

Simon’s arms dropped back to his side for only a moment before he raised them again, pressing both hands to his face and trying to stifle the misery and confusion that poured out of him. His flesh might have been whole, but his soul remembered. The pain, the hopelessness, the devastation, the light, the screaming. It assaulted him from every angle until all he could do was sob into his hands. Shoulders shaking, Simon bowed his head down further as the weight of it all pressed down on him.

It was impossible to know how long he sat there, letting it all bleed out of him. Time felt pointless. Everything felt pointless. Hell was all that waited for him. No trees. No stars. No brothers to stand at his side. No hope. The scream that tore out of him as he tipped his head back and howled into the emptiness of space was one of a man shattered.

It was as he tipped his head back down that Simon caught the form out of the corner of his eye. It registered after his lungs emptied. Simon's head whipped to the right, eyes widening to the point of near pain. Sitting barely six feet away was a person. It was hard to tell at first, with how dark the world was. The way they were sitting made them appear more rock than flesh, but it was a person. A coat completely covered in blood with its hood pulled up, utterly obscuring the face beneath, its length reaching to the rocky shore. They sat with their arms wrapped around their legs and didn't appear to be moving. All Simon could do was gape, jaw working as he struggled to find even a single word to force out between tightened teeth.

A thousand questions crossed his mind and died before reaching his lips. His fingers flexed and curled. The other person either hadn't noticed him yet or didn't care, but Simon still felt like a deer in the headlights. It was as if he'd somehow been caught doing something wrong but didn't know how to explain it away. Some part of his brain told him he was still a monster, still changed despite his wholly human experience. The moment he was spotted, the visage would fall away, and the monster beneath his flesh would appear. He was afraid. Being seen would be the final nail, the thing that would make everything real. He wasn't ready.

But he also needed to know.

Slowly, Simon opened his mouth and took a steadying breath to stop the trembling. A slight tilt of his weight and a roll of his hips brought him into a crouch, one leg still pressed against the ground, and his hands held out slightly in front of him. It was the most non-threatening pose he could think of at the moment.

"Um...hey..."

His voice sounded suddenly too loud against the quiet background of the moon, and Simon chided himself mentally for the lackluster start to what he was hoping would become conversation.

Simon held his breath and focused his efforts on trying to get his hands to stop shaking. Every second of silence felt like an eternity. He needed to hear their voice, needed to be acknowledged. Needed to know at least one of them was real.

The other could have been mistaken for a statue in their stillness. Simon had almost given up hope that this was anything but an illusion, another trick thrust upon him by the blood ocean. When the other finally moved, the air returned to Simon’s lungs. He sucked in a sharp breath and waited. The movement was faint, but set upon the stillness of the moment, it might as well have been the quaking of the earth. The other's arms fell away from their knees as they rose to stand. Instinctively, Simon stood with them. The lighting was dim at best, but the two were close enough that he could tell the other was roughly a head shorter than him, with a slimmer build. He tried to recall from memory what he'd seen of Ava. She'd come down too, at the end. Perhaps they'd both been spat out by the ocean. The sizes were wrong, not quite lining up with the memory. Someone else then.

"Please...I just need to know you're real..."

His voice shook with the words slipping out of them. The other turned, a small pivot towards him and Simon stilled as he waited.

"Come."

Their voice was soft, indistinct, hard to put into one box or another. Simon was still processing what was said as the other turned and began to walk away. A panic overwhelmed him, fear launching him into action. Simon lunged forward and wrapped his hand around the other's arm.

"Wait!" He gasped out. "Wait, please...who are you? Where are we? Do you know how we got here?"

~ The Other ~

The taste of blood still contaminated their every thought. The smell of its coppery tang was buried so deeply that they were starting to believe they'd never be able to smell anything else. Red ebbed and flowed away from their exposed feet. Tendrils of blood ran from their skin and chased the waves. Something was missing. Everything was missing. They'd given up something important this time, and the hole it left was slowly filling with blood.

It was worth it tho. He was worth it. Simon. They were sure of it.

Finding him down there hadn't been easy. Dragging him back up had been even worse.

It was worth it.

It was worth everything.

So why did it have to hurt so bad? The loss, the aching. The sounds of his broken screaming. All they could do was listen. They couldn't help him, not with this. He'd suffered so much, and they were nothing to him. Who were they to step in and offer compassion and consolation to a man they'd just dragged from the depths?

Who were they?

The scratching of fabric on stone reached their ears. Simon had found a moment of peace. That was good. What they didn't expect was to hear his voice. It sounded different in person, so very close. They wanted to look, wanted to talk to him, to tell him that it would all be ok now. A physical ache had their throat clenching and their chest tightening. They knew the risk of engaging with him. Talking would only make it harder to let go. He deserved to go home, not to be held back by their selfishness.

They needed to move. The sooner they could get him home, the better. He deserved that much.

They moved to stand and every muscle of their body screamed in retaliation. Something in their chest rattled, their breath caught in their throat. In the end, they were a selfish creature and decided to risk a small bit of conversation. The intent had been to explain more to Simon, to elaborate on where they were going, but all they could manage was a single word through gritted teeth.

"Come."

It had to be enough. They couldn't manage more until the pain stopped.

It wasn't enough.

Simon's voice cut through the distance and sliced their heart to pieces. He didn't deserve to sound like that, to carry that fear and desperation. He'd been through enough. They pressed their eyes closed and walked forward, trying to think of how to explain everything to him. The sound of footsteps approaching gave away the movement only a second before his hand latched around their arm. It hurt. His fingers dug into their flesh, trembling even as they held firm. Questions began to pour from him. Questions they couldn't answer. Not truly. They lost that had given it up to the Blood Ocean.

"Whose to say..."

Talking felt like trying to swallow shards of glass. Their voice sounded rough, wrong. The shape of their mouth was different, warping what was once familiar sounds into something different, strange, and wrong. The grip on their wrist slackened but didn't release. From under their hood, they could see the shock that had settled into Simon's dark eyes. They were supposed to have the answers. Supposed to help.

They watched as his expression tightened, brows drawing down and eyes shifting back and forth as he tried to make sense of their non-answer. It wasn't fair to him, but it was all they had.

The warmth of his skin seeped through the blood-soaked cloth of their sleeve. It was a sign that he was truly alive, standing in front of them. Whole. Unchanged. Unharmed. They relished that warmth and the knowledge it brought. The exchange had worked. All that was left was to get him home. That meant moving, not lingering so close to what had hurt him. Their head slowly turned towards a shape looming on the horizon. It was half buried in the Blood Ocean and obscured by darkness, but they knew what lurked inside those metal walls. Hope.

"I don't....know."

Their free hand rose, gloved finger still dripping traces of blood onto the rock, and pointed down the shoreline.

"I know how to get to you home."

~ Simon ~

Home.

That one word drowned out everything else. It allowed him to hope. That hope was a brittle thing, bright and all-consuming. Glass. A light. It lodged in his throat and choked out all the air from his lungs. Almost assuredly, it would break and he would once again drown in blood. Simon had no way of knowing where they were truly leading him or if any of this was real, but if it was…

Home.

Simon wasn't even sure what that meant to him anymore, yet he longed for it. Would the COI be waiting for him? Would they see his penance as served? Filament Station was gone. There was no going back. There were still other stations, other places to start over, to try again. His throat closed around that hope, choking the words from him. Simon wanted to ask more questions, but found he had none.

Home.

His fingers relaxed as realization struck. His hand was still wrapped around the other’s wrist, even as they spoke. His cheeks heated, and Simon pulled his hand away like it had been burnt, his eyes frantically sliding to where his grip had previously been as if he could see any possible injury through the heavy cloth of the other's sleeves.

"I'm...I'm sorry...I shouldn't have. Are you ok?"

His voice was laced with panic and Simon knew that between the darkness and the others' heavy clothing and hood, he had no idea what they looked like. Their voice had been the only hint as to a possible identity and even that was unhelpful. No discernible accent or dialect that might dictate a certain station. Their clothing was thick with blood and nearly shapeless. They had yet to give him a name.

'I don't...know.' The other had whispered before. The statement had seemed more of a solemn confession and Simon had entirely overlooked it.

"I'm sorry...I just..."

"I'm scared...I don't know what's happening...I'm sorry."

They stood quietly next to each other for what felt like eons, neither of them speaking or moving. Simon tried to search the darkness beneath their hood for any sort of clue or idea of what the other was thinking. The silence became too much; he needed to fill the space with something. Rage and confusion surged through him at the idea that the COI had sent more people down than he realized. Ava had lied to him already, concealing the truth about previous explorations. It made sense that they’d been someone else the COI saw fit to use. Simon clenched his jaw until it hurt. His stance had gone rigid as the thoughts rushed through his head.

"What do you mean you don't know? How can you not....what happened to you? Were you down there too?"

The other's flinch was subtle, near imperceptible. Simon knew he wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been standing so close. The question suddenly felt wrong and intrusive. He still reacted that way when Filament was mentioned. That was the kind of pain that didn't easily fade.

His mouth fell open. 'I-"

"We should get moving."

With no answers clearly forthcoming, Simon was forced to follow along as the other turned away once more and began their sojourn towards whatever structure awaited them in the distance. His mind roiled and turned with questions as they walked. The scuffing of their feet on stone and the ever-present sound of the ocean were the only noise in the dark of the quiet moon. He distracted himself by idly picking at the blood rapidly drying on his skin, his eyes never leaving the other's steady form ahead. They moved sure-footed and elegant, like a wraith upon the rocks. More than once a feeling of wrongness overtook him. The other seemed comfortable here. Familiar with the terrain. If they'd woken up confused on the beach like him, how had they known about whatever area they were leading him to? If they had been here longer, then why were they also covered in fresh blood? How had none of the expeditions noticed them? Too many questions without answers for Simon’s liking.

"Hey, how long have yo-"

"Almost there."

The shadowy form in the distance began to lose its ambiguity as they drew closer. Edges seemed to sharpen and clarify, the breath left Simon's lungs as he finally understood what lay ahead of them.

The Tow Ship.

Ava's Tow ship. Simon was sure of it. Knew it deep in his bones. It was destroyed, broken apart near the middle. Near the hangar, where the bay doors dropped the SM-13. Where it had dropped the SM-14 with Ava inside. Suddenly, all he could hear was the memory of David's voice screaming over the radio as Ava prepared to drop. Her screams as the monster tore through her ship. David must have refused to cut the lines, refused to give up hope that he could save her. The entire tow ship had been dragged down because of him.

His knees hit the ground as Simon doubled over and vomited. Pain lanced up both of his knees as they slammed onto the rocky surface. Blood splashed over the rock, and all he could do was wrap his arms around himself and try to stop the shaking. A viscous chill wrapped around his spine and sent gooseflesh along his arms.

It had all been for nothing. He'd given up everything to make sure the black box made it out. Simon hadn't even considered that the Tow Ship wouldn't be there to retrieve it. It was pointless. All of it. His left arm tingled like it too understood the gravity of it all. He could still feel the way the blood had crept into him, over his skin. The way his flesh had ripped...

"They've all been retrieved already."

His vision swam, refusing to focus as a wave of nausea crashed through him once more. Their words failed to find purchase in Simon's mind. He blinked and shook the rushing sounds of blood water out of his head before turning weary brown eyes upwards toward the other. He knew the confusion must have been evident on his face because they paused before responding again.

"They've all been retrieved already. Another ship came by not too long ago. The people on board retrieved the crew and the thing with the little light that was out on the Ocean."

The other was standing over him once more. They lingered close enough for Simon to catch a glint of teeth as they talked. There had been distance between them when he'd realized it was the Tow Ship, which meant they'd doubled back to check on him. Their hand lifted as they finished speaking, pointing their gloved fingers towards the sky.

"There's a ship up there still. It's been in low orbit for a while. That's how you're getting home. Come."

Simon could only manage to stare at them as they dropped their hand back down, this time extending it out to help him up. His own hand still shook as he accepted the others' help, but he managed to hold firm as they helped him to his feet. Simon could feel the strength in the other's grip as their fingers locked around his wrist. Something passed through him, a feeling he couldn't quite place. There was a struggle to remember the last time someone had reached out a hand to him. Back before he'd been arrested, before Filament surely. Simon didn't realize the contact would mean so much until it dawned on him that, despite being on his feet, he still hadn't let go. His ears began to burn, and he quickly uncurled his fingers from theirs only to realize their grip hadn't loosened either.

In a move that he could only have described as a martial art, the other pivoted, managing to slide their hand over his as they did so. Within seconds, they were standing beside him, hand still locked around his, and leading him forward towards the downed ship. Not a single word was exchanged between them as they closed the distance. Simon had only managed to come to his senses enough to return the hold and let himself be led along until the down ship loomed over them. He swallowed hard as he stared up at the broken vessel. It had been the thing that had quite literally held his chains. Now it sat in pieces. Two pieces from what he could tell. The back half of the ship was nearly half-submerged in the ocean, while the front half lay half-shattered across the rocky surface. The occasional sparks illuminated various cracks and tears along the hull. Much of the front end seemed intact despite the way the metal bent and ripped. His stomach rolled once more, threatening upheaval. Simon's eyes watered. Whether it be the effort of keeping himself from throwing up or from the shock of the sight in front of him, he was unsure.

The other had stilled, as if they too were overwhelmed by it all. Perhaps they were simply waiting on him. They'd been resolute in leading him forward, but suddenly seemed still. Simon couldn't be sure why, but he gave their hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. Their hooded face turned towards him.

"A few subsystems are still in operational order. Emergency lights mostly. A few of the crew quarters are still intact as well."

Something in their voice had changed as the two of them had traveled. He couldn't place what it was, but they sounded stronger, clearer, and less gravelly. Simon tried once more to see into the darkness under their hood. His eyes danced as he tried to focus. It didn't take long for the other to notice and turn away. There was a wariness there that he couldn't quite grasp. They didn’t want to be seen.

"We should get inside..." The other commented, their voice taking on a silvery edge as they both drew closer to the goal. Their movements had slowed as the two drew closer. The heavy sense of finality hung in the air, and Simon weighed the options of stepping into the dark with a stranger who’d yet to reveal themselves. Any ability he might have once had to trust another had been destroyed. Simon hesitated as the other slipped away from the moment and maneuvered themself through a breach in the hull. He stood outside and weighed his options before huffing out a breath. He didn’t have options; that was the real truth of the matter. Simon sighed as he followed along.

"Right. Yep. Let's head straight into the danger...haven't had enough of that recently..."

His words had been aggravated but entirely lacking in heat as he moved forward. If he hadn't been quietly concentrating on his footwork, he would have missed the soft sound from just beyond the breach. Not a laugh exactly, but something close enough to it that he stopped. Were they...amused? Had he imagined it? The statement hadn’t been meant as a joke, but he had a habit of using sarcasm when he was stressed. It was unusual to have someone around to react to it. Suddenly, he was unsure of how to react, and in the end, Simon chose nonchalance and slipped into the ship through the same breach the other had used.

Red light illuminated the halls in an all too familiar tableau. His spine locked up immediately at the sight of the other waiting for him, sweat broke out across his forehead. The space felt too tight, too oppressive. It was hot. There wasn't enough air.

'Hull Breach.'

Simon was frozen. The creature in the hall sub was moving closer. Inky skin and teeth where they shouldn't be. It wasn't hiding this time. It was coming for him.

It was him.

"You're safe."

Warmth engulfed his palm as the other took his hand once more. Their voice was softer than he'd heard it previously. Simon had almost jerked away before the hallucination fell away to reveal not a monster, but the stranger who had been guiding him. His right hand loosened from the fist he’d subconsciously made, fingers trembling as they uncurled.

"You're free now."

Simon didn't realize he was crying until he blinked and his vision blurred further. He'd backed himself into the wall at some point. They'd gotten close without him understanding what was happening. Their words washed over him, reversing the tide of blood in his head.

Safe.

"I didn't-"

Free.

"I swore-"

Simon pulled his hand free from theirs. He'd planned to press his palms into his eyes and stem the flow of tears. Planned to apologize for burdening them. Planned return to the journey at hand. Instead, Simon wrapped his arms around the other and drew them into a hug. He needed it. Needed to ground himself. Needed to understand what was real and alive. That they were both real and alive.

The other gave a small gasp as he pulled them against himself, their muscles locking and tightening. He'd had just enough time to regret his decision when they relaxed and slipped their arms around him. The difference in their height struck him in that moment, as did their thinner frame. Simon could feel the bones in the others' shoulders and ribs as his fingers curled over them. The moment was uncomplicated, yet somehow it felt murky in his head. A warmth had spread through him, and Simon didn’t want to let go.

The thought had his face turning red as they stood together in the dimly lit pathway. Simon needed the moment too much for him to truly care. Everything had been terror, anxiety, and pain as of late. The simple act of holding another person and being held helped to stave off the horror of it all. For the first time in a long time, his muscles relaxed and his heart settled. A fuzzy sort of static began to build up at the base of his skull, and a sudden sort of lightheadedness overtook him as the room unbalanced itself. The other seemed to sense this, subtly shifting their stance to better take on the burden of his weight. They uttered not a single complaint as the time passed and Simon pieced the fractured bits of his psyche back together. Embarrassment and guilt began to creep in around the edges of his now much calmer mind, and Simon realized he needed to release the other from his hold.

He hesitated before letting his arms fall away and back to his sides. His still reddened eyes had adjusted to the light, the dark browns looking off down the hall and at anything that wasn't his strange companion. The other's arms slipped free as they moved to step away. There was a silence between them that didn't feel awkward so much as it did questioning. They were both still feeling each other out, something Simon was prone to avoiding with those outside of his Filament associates.

The thought caused his chest to tighten and Simon faked a cough to cover for the sudden sting in his eyes. His voice was still thick with emotion when he finally managed to speak.

"Thanks. Thank you. I mean. For....for that. I just....I needed a moment. So...thank you."

Their hood dipped as the other gave the barest of nods. The quiet acceptance was enough for him, so much so that he startled at the sound of their voice filling the dead halls.

"Ready?"

It was Simon's turn to nod. He had needed the reprieve, but it was time to move on. The halls smelled of smoke and burnt wiring. In the musty pathways, it was almost overwhelming. It was the first time he'd smelled anything but copper and stale air in a while, so he guessed that he shouldn't complain.

The other was moving again, leading him down the pathway. Simon guessed that the area they were in must have been a maintenance hallway. Bent and twisted metal made it hard to make sense of their path. More than once, they detoured through a break in the wall only to emerge in another area that managed to somehow look the same as the last one they’d travelled through. The other seemed to know where they were going; that had to be enough. For the most part, Simon focused on keeping his feet under him and not tripping on random bumps and breaks in the floor. His focus on the path made the trek feel endless. Exhaustion haunted his every step, and more than once, Simon caught himself yawning.

Their progress had been further slowed when his vision wobbled, forcing him to stop and collect himself. The other lingered close, always within arm’s reach but saying nothing as they waited. By the time the two of them emerged onto what was left of the Bridge, Simon could barely keep his feet under him. Despite the destruction, console lights pulsed and flashed across the space. He sucked in a breath through his teeth at the sight of it all. The room would have been massive had half of it not been caved in. Chairs lay ascew behind various consoles. Most were broken beyond repair. Emergency lights pulsed low across the walls, illuminating various splatters of blood.

"The emergency beacon was never activated...they must have notified the other ship before they came down. All we need to do is activate it, and you can go home."

Something about the phrase struck him as wrong. It had bothered him every time the other had mentioned leaving. It was never 'we'. It was always 'you'. Simon's brow furrowed, a deep crease forming on his forehead as he turned towards the other. His mouth opened, yet no words came out. He stood there, gaping, and unable to form the question at the forefront of his mind. It wasn’t time to discuss things yet, and if their short history together was any indication, the other was not going to be forthcoming. Simon closed his mouth and scrubbed a hand over his face. He ran his thumbs over his temples and took a steadying breath before trying to speak once more.

"Simon. My name is Simon. I...never told you that. All this...this...leading me here, and I didn't even think about it."

There was a pause where neither of them spoke. It was becoming a habit between the two of them, these empty spaces. The other dropped their head forward, hood dipping lower as an audible sigh escaped them.

"Simon."

They crossed their arms over their chest and looked off towards the glowing consoles. A strange unease in their voice.

"I used to have a name...I think. I don't...anymore..."

Simon was once more left to simply stare at their companion. His expression shifted from concern to confusion as he listened and processed.

"Used to? You mean...how?"

Their response was to shrug like it was nothing. It created the feeling that they were bereft of a whole piece of themselves. It wasn't enough. Simon needed a better answer. He needed any kind of answer at this point. So far his companion had been the opposite of forthcoming and the exhaustion had left him with little patience for the matter.

"Don't! You can't keep avoiding every question I ask. You need to tell me something. Anything."

"Please."

His whispered plea hovered between them, heavy with need.

"I'm sorry. I really don't know."

Their voice shook as they answered, and Simon could hear the sadness in their words. Suddenly, he felt like the world's biggest asshole. This person had guided him the entire way, held his hand when he needed support. Held him. He was lucky to find them on this moon.

A thought struck him. Simon's lips curled into a smirk.

"Luka."

The other's head cocked to the side in response.

"Luka?"

"Lucky for us finding each other on this moon. Moon…Lunar…Lucky Lunar. Luka."

He expected a snort, or some expression of derision or humor. Instead, they stilled, head tilted just so. Time slowed to a crawl. Simon's jaw clenched as he waited to find out how much of a fool he'd just made of himself.

"Luka...ok. Hello Simon, I'm Luka."

Simon's breath released in a rush. He hadn't noticed he was even holding it until the tension dissipated. Something about the acceptance of the name made it feel easier to talk to them.

"It's nice to meet you, Luka."

The room tilted again, and Simon stumbled to a nearby console, placing a steadying hand on the surface. It was cool under his palm, a gentle hum vibrating through the machinery. Luka was once more hovering close by, the quiet offer of assistance and support should he need it. Simon waved them off as he turned to lean his backside against the console, hands braced against the edges.

"You keep saying 'get me home' like you're not coming. Why?"

Luka shifted to stand in front of the opposite console from him and folded their arms across their torso.

"Because I'm not." Came their resolute response.

Luka spoke in a sure tone that brokered no argument and left Simon stunned. They couldn't possibly be choosing to stay on this hell-scape of a moon. More questions rammed into his brain. Luka knew about the emergency signal and had chosen to leave it alone. Why? How long? He didn't even know where to start when it came to the questions, and the more that formed, the harder it became to find a starting point to it all.

"You can't stay? Why? There’s nothing here…"

"I can't go with you, Simon."

"Why?" He was becoming more confused and desperate with every new thing that was said.

"I just can't. We'll send the emergency signal, and you'll get your freedom. That's enou-"

"The hell it is! I'm not leaving you here!"

Luka's head jerked to the side as if they'd been slapped but Simon was too worked up to care. They could be upset with him for yelling, but they'd be doing it somewhere other than this fucking moon. Simon jerked himself up to standing at his full height and closed the distance between them. His hands clutched the front of Luka’s coat, the fabric scratchy under his palms.

"You don't get to guide us this far just to stay behind and die. I won't let you."

He'd already lost so many people. Simon knew he couldn't survive losing anyone else. Luka's hands came to rest over his own, but the anger and desperation didn't abate. Their touch was soft, not attempting to remove his hands. They were comforting him. Somehow, it made him all the more furious. Made it hurt all that much more. He was so angry, and they were so fucking calm.

'Not everyone gets to be saved.'

"You have to, Simon."

"The fuck I do!"

"Simon I can't go! It’s…not safe."

Luka's hands rose from his, their fingers clasping the edge of their hood and sliding it back. The red emergency lights lit up their delicate features and Simon gasped as his hands fell away from their coat. He quickly took several steps back until his back hit the console. He scrambled his hands against the metal surface to find purchase as his focus zeroed in on the sight before him.

"How?" Simon asked, voice wavering and lowering to a dangerous growl.

A set of crimson eyes watched his every movement before obvious shame overtook their face. Two small horns rested close to each other and glinted in the low light. They were set high on Luka's forehead and half-buried in their hairline where dark brown hair framed them. Pale skin was accentuated by a swath of freckles across their nose and upper cheeks. It all barely distracted from a heavily pointed set of predator’s teeth hiding behind plump lips. Luka's mouth was still slightly open from the pain evident on their face. Simon kept his gaze on those teeth as they spoke, lips curving around the multiple sets of fangs.

"The Ocean. It's...they'll...people won't understand. They'll be afraid. Like you are. I don't want to be a science experiment, Simon."

Their every word fell like a mournful admission, and it shocked Simon out of his stupor. People. They were afraid of people. Afraid of exactly the kinds of reactions he'd just shown. The blood ocean had reflected through their eyes, and he panicked, forgot the way they'd guided him, comforted him. In their minute amount of time together, Luka had shown him more compassion than he'd received in a lifetime.

"We'll figure something out."

Simon leaned away from the console and padded forward until he was in front of them. He couldn’t bring himself to take their hand the way that they had taken his. Simon had intended to but something stayed his hand. He didn’t deserve to. Instead, he searched their face for any sign of hope or understanding, his own expression pleading and full of shame. Luka looked anywhere but at him, and it burned. This was his fault. All this time, he’d been worried about being perceived as a monster, and in this one moment, he’d proven that it had nothing to do with the state of his flesh.

"I'm sorry."

"It's ok."

"It's not. I wasn't expecting...Luka...what happened to you? How long have you been here, really?"

Their gaze shifted back to him, and they suddenly looked weary in a way that hurt to see. Their crimson gaze was haunting. It reminded him of a sunset before it gave way to the black of night. Simon couldn’t look away as he waited for their response. His mouth had suddenly dried out.

"I don't know, Simon. There's no sun here to track time. No day or night. The stars don't move in any way I'm familiar with. All I remember is being here."

"Luka..."

There were no words, at the very least no good words to address the situation. He knew they weren't lying; their face said as much. Somehow, that made everything worse. The thought of leaving them behind was a tragedy. Seeing them turned into a science experiment…was so much worse. Simon had lost his faith in the people of COI. Lost his hope that they would do the right thing. Deep down, he knew Luka was right, and it both infuriated and destroyed him.

"Don't activate the signal. We'll stay and figure this out. There's time. You said there was running water in some areas? Shower, get clean, find new clothes. Both of us."

Luka’s voice slipped free in a whisper, uncertainly coloring their words. "That door across the room. It leads to the crew cabins...there should still be usable clothes." The room fell silent as the air between them built up a charge.

“Simon….thank you…for trying…”

Luka turned away and headed off towards the doors. The look of hurt never completely left their features, but it lessened some. He'd fix this, somehow. If the Tow Ship still had operating facilities, then they had everything needed to allow for the time needed to form a plan.

"Right..." He breathed out as he followed after. The siren call of a shower and fresh clothes called to him. They'd figure this out after. There was still time.

~ Luka ~

The look on Simon's face had seared its way into their memory. There had been real fear in his eyes. The shock had been expected…but the fear had been too much. They'd gone into that ocean and come back out as something different, with claws and fangs and horns. The Blood Ocean had changed them in ways beyond their understanding. It had made sure that they’d never be recognized as human again, that they would never have a place anywhere but the shores of this moon. Their vision was sharper, able to more easily pick out the details of the dark landscapes of the moon. The shock of the change had first hit them at the beach while waiting for Simon to wake.

'What will you give in return...?'

The price had been steep. The hole in them had widened and filled with even more blood. There was so much noise that Luka could hear the waves despite being nowhere near the shoreline.

'Alive and whole are two different requests. Two different payments.'

Luka tucked the hood back up over their head and kept the edges pulled close to their face as they led Simon into the halls. It was for the best then that he'd reacted in such a way. It made things easier. They could do what they had to do.

"Here. This cabin is still intact. It has a bathroom attached. Everything has been tossed around, but there’s clothes and blankets in there. The mattress is on the ground, but moving it shouldn't be hard if you want to rest for a bit."

It took some effort to wrench the door open enough to pass inside of the room. Their gloved hands latched onto the edge of the frame and pulled. The metal screamed in protest but ultimately gave way without too much of a fuss. Dents remained where their fingers had rested as they pulled their hands away. Luka pretended not to notice as they took a half step back and gave Simon the space to step through.

The deep tones of his voice rumbled through the space as he spoke. So close, but suddenly leagues away in terms of their connection to each other. "Luka...listen. I'm so-"

"There's a different cabin at the end of the hall. I'll be down there if you need me."

Luka didn't turn away quite fast enough to avoid seeing the crestfallen expression on Simon's face as his attempt to apologize further was thwarted. Luka told themself it was for the best. If he got too attached, it would make it harder for him to leave. A feat he was already struggling with. In the end, that's what it was all about. What everything, was about.

Getting Simon home.

"Just down the hall... got it."

His voice trailed off behind them as Luka padded away and Luka could hear as Simon shuffled into the crew cabin. Soon, the sound of the pipes groaning beneath the floors signaled he'd started the shower. Good. That gave them enough time.

Luka turned on their heel and paused long enough to make sure Simon wasn't coming back into the halls. They shifted their weight to their toes and backtracked the way they'd come, their breath stilled in their lungs. The crew cabins were a straight shot down the hall from the bridge. Luka wasted no time venturing back to the panels. They scrambled as they searched for the right control panel to send the emergency signal. Everything was blinking different colors or sending sparks into the air. A liftetime of history had been stolen blanked from their memories, but Luka was sure they must have never stepped foot on any sort of spaceship. Nothing in the room made sense. Even had the controls not been broken, Luka didn’t know what a single panel or station was used for.

"Come on...come on....where are you?" They whispered into the gloom of the bridge.

They'd hoped for a big red emergency button or something that clearly indicated a distress beacon. Instead, it had been a command program on the Captain's terminal. Luka mentally kicked themself for not trying the Captain’s terminal first. Luckily, Ava had so clearly given two different codes to Simon before she died. Luka cautiously managed to input the first one into the authenticator. It immediately granted access, and they poured through the various prompts and approvals until finally, the distress beacon was activated. A shaky sigh slipped from their lips as they closed the terminal out and bent over the console. Luka grasped at the edges and fought to get their breathing and heart rate back under control. Every breath was a fight.

Soon. Soon the ship would come back, and Simon would leave.

It had to be worth it.

Luka shoved up from the terminal and slipped back into the halls. The shower was still running as they passed by; the sound of it eased the edge off of their anxiety. It would take a while for the signal to process and the rescue crew to arrive. Simon would have time to shower and rest beforehand.

The cabin they'd chosen had been the Captain's. Ava's suite was slightly more austere than the rest but was still considered basic by most standards. Luka hadn't chosen it for the comfort. Instead, their decision had been based on the clothing that it offered. Most of it would fit their frame well enough to not be too uncomfortable.

Luka began pulling off blood-drenched clothing as they stepped into the cabin. Everything that hit the floor gave off a heavy, wet, smacking noise as it made contact with the ground. A trail of ruined clothes created a macabre sort of breadcrumb trail to the bathroom. The shower-head groaned and screamed as pressure built up inside, but soon enough, clean (and very cold) water began to spill out. Luka gave a shiver as they put their hand under the stream, but threw themself under it only seconds later. It was the single most divine moment they'd experienced.

Basic soap and a generic shampoo-conditioner combo were everything and more than they could have asked for. By the time they turned the shower off and grabbed for a towel, it felt like nearly an hour must have passed. Luka quickly wrapped the towel around themself and began their search for scissors. They need to deal with their unruly hair.

A short time later, Luka was frowning at their reflection in the bathroom mirror. Despite their newly done braid, fresh clothes, and clean hair, a monster still stared back at them. They'd known, somehow, that their improved vision meant their eyes must have changed too, but the deep red irises were still shocking to witness. Luka couldn't remember what their eye color used to be, but it wasn't this. They understood Simon's reaction now.

Monster

Luka sighed and averted their attention from the mirror. A black hoodie jacket combo was laid out on the bed from their earlier passthrough. They resisted the urge to bury themselves in it but picked it up anyway as they strode past. It would be useful later.

The hall was quiet when they emerged from the cabin. Simon had long since finished with his own shower. Luka figured he was likely waiting on the Bridge. There was still a softness in his heart, despite everything that had happened. That softness told him to help, that they were worth saving. Luka didn't disagree, but they knew they had to be real about things. They had no home to return to, and as lonely as the moon was, at least no one would treat them like a monster here.

No, home and safety were for people like Simon. People who gave up everything for the greater good and for humanity. People who still held hope in their hearts.

Not people who traded deals with the Blood Ocean to serve their own selfish desires.

Their footfalls echoed down the hall like ghostly whispers, and Luka realized that a light was coming from the room Simon had taken up in. They slid up next to the entrance and paused just outside. Luka tilted their ear toward the door and listened. Soft breathing sounded from within. Rhythmic and steady. The sound of someone deep in sleep.

Luka smiled, their lips pulling back to show a line of beautifully straight and pointed teeth. They pressed their left hand against their mouth and slid sideways until they completely cleared the doorway. In all their time listening to him below, Luka had never heard or felt Simon truly at rest. Their eyes closed as they listened, letting the moment of peace wash over them. A slight bit of shifting and their back pressed against the wall. Luka used it as a guide and slowly lowered themself to sitting cross-legged on the floor. There was still time; no need to disturb him yet. Simon deserved to rest.

What felt like an hour had passed before they heard Simon move. At first, Luka thought it was the sound of him waking, until the first whimper. A panicked cry followed, and Luka was on their feet, their jacket forgotten in the hall as they jumped to up and dashed into the room. Nightmares were a guarantee considering what he'd been through, but they had hoped he'd manage more sleep before it happened. They supposed it was lucky he'd managed to sleep at all, everything considered.

"Simon!" Luka called out desperately as they approached the bed. Simon had pulled the mattress back onto the bed. Blankets and pillows seemed half-heartedly tossed onto the top of it. He rested longways on top of the rumpled cloth.

Simon made a broken noise somewhere between a sob and a scream. Luka felt their heart stop. He wasn't kicking or fighting, but instead was on his side with his hands pressed against his eyes, a quiet stream of words repeated over and over between his cries.

"No no no. Please. No more. I just want to go home."

"Simon..."

Luka took a cautious step forward, then another. Each one made just enough noise to alert him of their presence without frightening him. They shimmied up to the edge of the bed and crouched. A small lantern glowed brightly next to them, casting everything in a cool chemical glow. The light accentuated the edges of the dark circles peeking out from around Simon's hands. A light sweat had broken out across his forehead, and despite fresh dry clothes, Simon was shivering. Luka's jaw tensed, teeth grinding together with enough force to make their jaw ache. He whimpered again, and they knew they couldn't simply sit there and do nothing.

Cautiously, like they were about to attempt petting a dangerous animal, Luka laid their hand over Simon's brow and held it there. When they weren't met with immediate and violent resistance, they began to move, turning their hand so that their fingers curled into his hair. Slow ministrations at first. Luka gradually began carding their fingers through his hair, a soft hum vibrating up their throat. Their other hand rested on the bed to help maintain balance as they crouched next to him.

"You're safe now. You're free."

It wasn't long before Simon visibly relaxed and his hands slid away from his face. The tremors ceased, and while Luka knew he was likely still dreaming, it wasn't as bad.

Satisfied that he'd be ok for a while on his own, Luka leaned back on their feet and prepared to stand when Simon moved. His hand found its way to their wrist, gently holding it. The sound of his breathing was even, enough to signal that he was still sleeping. Luka passed it off as a reflex and was preparing to slip their hand free when he whispered.

"Thanks, mom."

Luka's breathing stalled, and their heart hammered against their ribs. Pain blossomed across a lower lip held so tight between their teeth that blood began to well up. Their vision watered with momentary tears, and Luka knew that moving away from Simon was now an impossible choice. At least for a while longer, they could stay by his side. Luka adjusted from the crouch until they could sit on the floor with their knees tucked under them. Simon’s fingers remained curled around their wrist; the hold was gentle but firm enough that slipping away wouldn't be an easy task. Luka laid their free hand over Simon's wrist and found a comfortable position for their head in the mattress. Their dark hair tumbled over their eyes, providing a curtain against the light.

Luka knew sleep would not be coming for them; the Ocean was still too loud. Too urgent. Trying to listen to it hurt too damn much. Trying to ignore it hurt even worse. Under it all was the sound of a river rushing down its course. Luka knew where it ended.

The hole was filling up.

It wasn't too long before Simon's breathing completely evened out, and the light sweat across his brow evaporated. A gentle sleep had finally overtaken him. At some point, his grip on their wrist slackened enough for his fingers to slide freely back to the mattress, yet Luka had remained at his side. Leaving him still felt too uncertain, and if they were honest with themself, they didn't want to. This memory was going to be precious to them, especially after he left, and they selfishly wanted it to last just a little longer.

Something in the control room beeped. The sound was faint from so far down the hall, but Luka heard it all the same. Possibly a transmission, which would mean the emergency signal had been received and the crew was trying to respond. The time to linger was over. Luka pushed themself to their feet. Muscles in their legs protested, and a spasm of pain had them nearly toppling onto the bed. They'd sat in that position far longer than they'd realized.

Steadily, Luka made their way to the door on shaky legs. Simon remained steadfastly asleep behind them as they slid out into the hall and headed back towards the Bridge.

The terminal flashed incessantly, displaying a 'New Message' alert across the top of the screen. Luka glared at it for a long moment as color leached out of the room, leaving the terminal tinted in a haze of red.

"It wouldn't kill you all to be just a little less efficient…" Luka grumbled as they padded across the room and unlocked the terminal. The text on the screen aligned with what they had expected.

Request For User Identification: Emergency Dispatch on Route.

What shocked Luka was the second message, sent from the same user.

This is Captain Oscar Graves requesting verification of user identification. Emergency Evacuation has already been completed at this site.

Luka let out a quiet sigh and laid both of their hands against the console as they leaned over it. Both of their index fingers tapped in repeated rhythm against the terminal edges as they tried to figure out the best course of action. The emergency crew was coming regardless of whether they sent a follow-up message. If Captain Grave's response could be believed, that was. There was also the risk of the Captain calling off an emergency crew if he thought the signal was a technical glitch from a dying ship. Luka had already seen the original emergency evacuation sent from this crew. They'd taken away both the survivors of the crash, and it's dead.

Luka read the message over once more. It stated that emergency dispatch was already en route. The Captain wouldn't waste precious fuel by sending a team out only to call them back. He'd want them to investigate. Probably a repair technician who, at the very least, would be inspecting the console.

"Oh..." Luka whispered.

Inside the ship. Meaning, someone looking around in the area they'd intended to hide. That certainly needed to be addressed. Luka snorted and closed out the console. There wasn't anything they could do at the moment but wait. Simon would hopefully wake soon, and if he didn't, then they'd have to wake him before the crew arrived. He was going to be upset; they knew that much already. He was going to try to find a way to save them, too. Or worse, he'd give up his chance at freedom entirely to stay behind. The first option was impossible for Simon, and the second was impossible for Luka. The stalemate needed to be broken before it could start.

And if he stayed longer, it was inevitable that the Ocean would come for him again.

It had to be this way. For both of them.

Luka passed the time by retrieving their discarded coat from the hall and mapping out ventilation and maintenance shafts that were still intact. A plan of where to hide should anyone come into the ship slowly started to form. There were areas so dark that only someone with a flashlight or night vision could navigate them. Several of those would be impossible to get into for a full sized man, and a few boasted blind corners that didn't lead to anything remotely important. Just dead ends or crushed pathways. It would have to do.

By the time they returned to the Bridge, Simon was finally waking. Luka swiped the dust and dirt from their pants and waited for him to find his way back. They were going to have to talk about things, and Luka wasn't sure they were ready to. He'd already asked questions that they knew the answers would only end up hurting him. Luka wondered if Simon had ever had people in his life who wanted him to live and be happy.

He deserved that much.

The sound of a yawn announced his presence and Luka looked up from their task of cleaning and paused. They’d been too lost in their thoughts too pay attention. He’d arrived without their noticing. Sleep still had a grasp on Simon, his hair loose and mussed. The clean clothes fit his frame but clung in areas where they were slightly too small. Simon brought a hand up to rub at the corner of his eye; his shirt rode up slightly, exposing the bare flesh of his torso. They blushed.

Luka realized that it was the first time they'd ever truly seen Simon. They'd first laid eyes on him at the beach, but he's been so covered in blood that the details were all obscured. He was beautiful.

And they had to let him go.

~ Simon ~

He'd been dreaming, that much he knew, but the details had been lost. He remembered having a nightmare, but not what it was about or how it ended. The feeling of panic and disorientation should have followed him into waking. Instead, it had been the quiet resistance of waking from a dead sleep. A sleep he hadn't intended to have. The last thing he remembered was sitting down to put his boots on and realizing just how exhausted he'd been. He'd closed his eyes to yawn and then...oblivion.

His boots still sat next to the bed, exactly as he'd left them. The room smelled of clean water and soap. Somehow, that felt wrong. Everything should be stained like he was with rust and dirt and blood. It felt wrong to be clean on the outside after everything that had happened.

'Not everyone gets to be saved.'

'Maybe you do belong down here...'

"No..."

Simon closed his eyes and bowed his head as he pressed his palms to his ears to block out the voices. It did nothing. Of course. He knew better, hadn't expected it to work. Ava and the monster sounded the same now, their voices irrevocably blended. Tears trailed down his face, and Simon could practically feel the walls closing in on him. He needed to get out of the room immediately.

He jolted up off the bed, grabbed his boots, and headed out into the halls. It was tricky to put both boots on while walking, but he managed to get them both firmly on his feet before stepping onto the Bridge. His body was nice enough to remind him of the nap by sending a wave of exhaustion through him and Simon yawned as he rubbed at his eyes. The blinking lights of the consoles all assaulted him at once. Luka was already waiting for him and stood frozen a few feet away, eyes locked onto his. Simon was used to their quiet stillness, but this was different. They seemed caught off guard. There was dust on the knees of their pants, fringes of more dust spotted their sleeveless black shirt.

It was Simon's turn to pause as he looked Luka over. Fresh clothes and a shower had revealed the person under all that blood, and Simon realized it was the first time he'd ever truly seen Luka. When he'd first seen them at the beach and during the trip to the ship, he'd only seen the hooded clothing and long sleeves. All of it drenched in blood. It wasn't until they'd both gotten inside that he'd seen their face. His reaction still caused a twinge of shame to burn up his throat.

The person in front of him now had pale skin and dark brown hair pulled into a side braid, a heavy dose of freckles across their nose, and deep red eyes. The eyes were the thing that stood out to him the most earlier, and they were the thing that held his attention now. They were beautiful.

Simon swallowed and tried to scrape together whatever words he could find that would make the situation even a little less awkward. Luka beat him to it.

"I hope you slept well...it seemed like you needed it."

Their tone was soft and even, giving away nothing. No hint that they felt as awkward as he did, no reaction that might explain why they'd been so still when he first entered the room. Simon blinked at them for a long moment. His jaw slackened as the emotional whiplash of his experience in the room, leading to the current interaction, rolled through him.

"I did...I think..." Simon's eyes darted back and forth as he tried to think of a better answer. He wasn't sure if he'd slept well or had simply turned off once his head hit the pillow. Probably before that, if he was honest with himself.

"So, about earlier...what we talked about. We'll find a way to get you out of-"

"You can't, Simon. Not right now at least."

"You're not even gonna let me t-"

"No."

"Dammit Luka!"

Simon slammed his fist down on the closest console and pressed two fingers from his other hand into the bridge of his nose. His vision watered, so he closed his eyes and ignored it.

"Simon, listen, please. I know you want to help, to do what you think is the right th-"

"I don't think it's the right thing, Luka. It is the right thing." He pleaded as he looked over at them.

Luka was so calm about the situation, so apathetic about their own future, their own life. He couldn't leave them behind on this all-forsaken moon while he got leave. Ocean of blood be damned, he wouldn't make that choice.

"I'm not sending the emergency signal. We'll figure this out. There's got to be enough supplies around here tha-"

"It's too late, Simon."

The words hit him like ice water.

"What did you do?"

His question seemed somehow devoid of emotion, a heavy contrast to the absolute turmoil he was experiencing on the inside. Finally, Luka expressed something other than calm. Their face scrunched in a momentary wince, but Simon watched stoic resolve replace it just as fast.

"The right thing."

He was moving before his mind could catch up to his body. Both of his hands fisted in Luka's shirt as he pulled them closer and bared down on them. Pain, fear, sadness, and exhaustion mixed and raced to the surface, saturating his every word.

"You don't get to just decide what's right and wrong! If I want to stay, that's my choice. Not yours! I told you we'll figure something out and we will! You can't just...just...give up."

Like he had.

Luka's impassionate expression cracked, sadness and hurt showing through. Simon had run out of steam by the time he'd finished yelling, but he couldn't bring himself to let go. A soft warmth settled into his wrist and Simon realized Luka had gently placed their hand there without him noticing.

"Simon, you can't stay. There isn't enough food or water. You'll die before help comes again. That's not figuring something out, it's throwing your life away."

"You can't stay either then..." There was a shakiness to his words that he didn't want to think too deeply about.

"I think I've been here for a long time already. Yours wasn't the first ship I've seen, Simon..."

"You're not the first person I've seen go into the Ocean."

It wasn't possible. They couldn't have been here for that long. The Tow Ship hadn't gone down that long ago. If that wasn't the first ship they'd seen, then at the very least they'd been here since the last SM-13 voyage, or the SM-8.

"How long have you been here?"

"I told you I don't know..."

"How did you survive? There's no food or water...or..."

"I don't need it anymore..."

There was a sharp brokenness to the way Luka spoke that dried out Simon's mouth and made his chest hurt. He couldn't think about how long they must have been alone here. It hurt too much and wouldn't help them to figure out how to fix it. His hands unclenched from their shirt, fingers still half curled in the air as if he couldn't figure out what to do with them. It didn't matter that he didn't understand how they'd survived. It was a discussion for later.

"Luka...I'm..."

Simon pulled Luka into a tight hug and leaned his head down to speak into their hair.

"Sorry. I'm sorry. We will figure this out somehow. I don't want to leave, but if it comes down to it, I will come back for you. I promise."

Luka froze in his arms, a small shake rattling through them before they returned the embrace and nodded. When Luka spoke, it was with a quiet voice, muffled further by the fabric of his shirt, but Simon heard it all the same. It was enough to give him hope.

"I believe you."

There was a sound off in the distance, outside the ship, that heralded an ominous feeling in Simon's gut. Engines. The Recovery team was here, and they were out of time. Luka must have heard it too, by the way they stiffened in his arms.

"Go. Find a way to come back. Try not to take too long?"

Simon's eyes burned as he nodded his head and released Luka. They stepped away from each other, and the distance suddenly felt like looking across a cavern. Even with the edge of humor in their words, Simon could see the sorrow diluting their vibrant red eyes.

"I'll steal a ship if I have to. I'm not leaving you here. Understand?"

Luka nodded and turned to fetch a coat from the console. It looked so eerily close to what he'd seen Ava in that Simon nearly threw up at the sight. The only difference was that this coat had a large black hood attached to it. It was likely why Luka had picked it out.

"Come. I'll escort you to the breach."

Simon followed along in stupefied silence as Luka led them back through the ship towards a different area than the one they'd come in through. This opening was wider, and from the shape, Simon figured it was originally an airlock of some kind but had been mostly ripped apart. Exposed wires and jagged metal made it look more like a mouth than a door. His steps faltered slightly at the sight of it. Luka stopped at the edge of the opening and turned, eyes set on Simon's face.

"You’re free now, Simon."

The words unmoored him, and once again, Simon was battling blurry vision and a sob stuck somewhere between his lungs and his heart. He nodded his head and drew Luka into one last hug. They didn't have long, but he was willing to eat up every last moment he could like this. Grounded, alive, with someone who cared about him and whether he lived or died.

Luka was the one to break the hold, their hands sliding up his chest and slowly pushing back. He felt their warmth through his shirt; it sent a wave of fuzzy heat through him. They hadn't needed to say anything; he knew it was time to go. Waiting meant increasing the risk of the rescue team spotting Luka, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, they were right. People would see a monster before they saw a person.

"As soon as I can. No matter what."

Luka nodded and they held each other's gaze for as long as possible before Simon turned away and stepped into the opening. He made it exactly three steps before Luka's voice sounded behind him and a complicated sort of hope bloomed in his chest.

"Simon wait, I almost forgot."

He hissed and stepped back towards them as they followed him out into the open. Any retorts or concerns he had were cut off as Luka grabbed his hands, pushed them together and pressed something into them. The shape felt familiar but wrong.

"I found this for you." They quickly blurted out before turning on their heel and heading back off into the ship.

Simon's stomach dropped and his heart lurched up into his throat. The shape in his hands wasn't possible. He hadn't even looked yet, but he knew.

'I found this for you.'

Slowly and reverently, Simon opened his hands, already knowing what he would see.

His pendant. Broken in two. The seed was missing, but beyond a doubt it was his. A resin cast that used to contain the seed of the tree of Eden. The last connection he had to something more. It was right there, lying in the palms of his hands. The leather strap still connected to one side. Impossible.

'I found this for you.'

They'd been down there. They'd been in the blood ocean.

He'd first seen them sitting on the beach, covered in blood. They'd been so still. Their voice had been rough at first, almost sounding pained.

'I think I've been here for a long time already.'

Eyes the same color as blood. Teeth reminiscent of a carnivore’s. The ocean had changed them, the same way it had changed him. Only, he wasn't changed anymore.

"Luka....what did you do?"

Simon started to charge forward, back into the ship. Damn the rescue. Damn his freedom. Damn home. His realization was too much to live with if it meant leaving Luka alone. He made it a full step back towards the ship when light washed over him, and a stranger's voice called to him from a short distance away.

"Holy shit! Hey! We found em! It's ok now buddy, we gotcha!"