Chapter Text
There was around a minute of silence, a mere static sound coming off the radio. And then suddenly Simon was lifted off the floor and flung to the back of the submarine as it shook violently, presumably moving somewhere.
He was thrown around uncontrollably for a little longer before it suddenly came to a stop and he slid across the floor towards the front of the submarine in one last shake. He forced his head to look up, the window in the cockpit shining a harsh fluorescent light into the inside and glistening on the blood he’s soaked in.
It shone a light on his wounds, looking to his right side he properly saw what had happened to his arm—ripped right off the shoulder, only half his humerus bone remaining.
Was this a dream? He couldn’t tell anymore, his head feeling incredibly light and soft—in a way? If that was even the right word, he didn’t know.
His vision began to blur, black creeping in from all directions and the sound of something rumbling loudly outside the ship filled his ears. He was cold, so cold—or was he warm? Everything is so blurry, so warm—cold? His head aches, ears ringing and that rumbling fades as the ringing gets increasingly louder.
The black creeps in further, consuming what he could see—although it was only blood everywhere. If he was being honest, if he could think straight; not seeing the horrors of the oceans and his own blood everywhere would be a major relief.
He could’ve sworn he felt the presence of somebody next to him, or maybe it was a few people? He’s really loosing it, isnt he?
It’s very muffled and incomprehensible, but he’s pretty confident theres people talking—panicked. talking. Worried, hurried.
His body felt light, and he couldn’t fight the fuzziness in the back of his head any longer. He allows it to take over, and consume him.
Simon passed out, from sleep deprivation—actually no, mostly blood loss and injuries.
He awoke hours—maybe even a day later, it was hard to tell as his internal clock was pretty destroyed.
His eyelids felt heavy as he opened them, a sharp sting immediately following as the bright white lights hit his eyes. He closed them again quickly, the sting slowly subsiding.
His whole body is numb, is he dead? He sure felt alive—sort of.. His body aches so bad, but it still feels so numb; he hasn’t experienced anything like this before so it feels all so surreal. He takes a big breath in, and instead of the uncomfortable scent of blood and rust filling his lungs—a sterile medical-like scent took its place.
“eughh..” he groaned, the smell was harsh and uncomfortable—although, still better than blood and iron.
“Oh good, You’re awake!” A voice spoke from beside him, with an awfully pleased tone. Simon could’ve sworn he’d heard that voice somewhere, but the grogginess of sleep wouldn’t allow him to remember where from.
Simon opened his eyes, fighting the urge to close them as the blinding lights flashed him. He allows the sting to subside on its own, and when it does he glances around the room.
His eyes soon land on the man next to him, he had a cheerful yet worried expression on his face.
What the hell? Simon was so unbelievably confused, the man looked almost identical to him—same facial features and all. Was he dreaming?
“wh-fuck. why..- do you look li..- like me.??,!??” His throat was so dry, even the simplest of sentences hurt to say—resulting in cracks when he spoke.
Simons thoughts were so rapid he couldn’t keep up, he had so many questions that he just ended up spitting them all out at once—or attempted to. It hurt—it hurt really bad, but nonetheless he eventually finished asking all the questions.
Simon stared at the stranger, anticipating a response.
“uh- well,, the first question is a bit.. difficult to explain, but I’m from a different universe, or timeline? Not too sure right now, but it’s probably different universes iiii dunno really.. !”
Simon looked at him, a confused look painted on his face. Universes? Timelines? It was so much for him to wrap his head around, maybe he was just tired; which he was, really..
Mark began to speak again
“Uh, and for the “who the fuck are you” question, my name is Mark, head engineer of the Invincible II, which you are currently on—more specifically, inside the medical wing.”
He explained more of the Invisible II, or whatever the man had said—Simon honesty was too tired to pay attention to the ship name, and knowing it doesn’t really matter to him.
To Simon, it felt like the man was rambling on for hours when in reality only a few minutes had slipped by. He feels like he’s wasting time, why was he in a hospital bed when he could be working? If everything that is happening right now is real and he truely has been saved, why isn’t he being forced to work? Why hasn’t he been given labour debt to pay off via work??
Marks voice snapped Simon out of whatever spiral he was going down
“You should get some more rest, alright?”
“u- uhuh.. sur e..” Simon couldn’t be bothered to properly reply, going to roll over and face away from mark—only to be met with pain so he put that goal down. Simon stares at the ceiling, eventually hearing Mark assumably getting up and leaving, followed by the doors shutting behind him.
Simon sighs, letting sleep fall over him.