Chapter Text
She circled around her prey, both of them wounded. Both of them dying. The ocean -her lifeblood, her very essence- it sustained her, for the moment. But Simon, darling, human Simon -he thrashed between the roots of the tree, lips pressed into a thin line as he continued to fight.
Of all her prey, he was the most interesting. The most cherished. He refused to give up, to accept her gift. Why? She loved him. Couldn’t he see that? Even as he injured her, sold her secrets out to the rest of his dying race, she loved him.
But he didn’t love her back. He was choosing to die. He could have lived within her.
Once he died, his body would be left here. Floating, sickening, rotting and tainting her paradise with his name and scent. Her failure would forever follow her.
No.
No.
No, not like this. Not her favorite. Better for him to die far away from her, where she would not have to remember. Her blood would heal her, sustain her, and it would carry him somewhere else. A place where he could die, lost to humanity, his knowledge left to rot with him. Memento mori.
A flick of her tail, and the squirming humanoid figure disappeared from the tree, carted along currents to the unknown. The only human to have seen the Light and survived. To have witnessed salvation and willingly turned away. A man that, at the last possible moment, gave up his chance to live in order to try and save a handful of souls he’d never met.
Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.
Someday, the last son of Eden would return to the soil. Someday.
* * * * *
Reality blurred together with loss, with longing, with -everything.
Mom, standing tall. She was a scientist. She was smart. So, so smart. Too smart for her own good. She knew there weren’t enough resources, not for everyone. Not for her and her son, who every day was growing hungrier and bigger and taking up more of their limited supplies.
A bag, for his new life in Eden. “Simon, don’t be like that. You’ll love it there.”
A kiss to his forehead. Her final farewell.
A mother who wouldn't even recognize the killer she spawned. Or maybe she'd be proud. Is death the only thing she taught you?! Half-measured! Half-committed!
She hanged herself hours after he left. She never knew the truth of Eden. The only truth she’d known was that they all were going to die, and by her sacrifice, her son might live a few days longer.
Death was second nature to him. She died, that he might live. So, so many died that he might live.
He murdered her, as surely as if he’d done it with his own hands. The clothes on his back, every bite of food was meant for her. Rations that she’d packed into his little bag with a smile and a lie that everything would be okay.
Her hands, carding through his hair for the last time. Brushing messy bangs out of his face. He wanted to weep, to scream and grab her wrists and hold her tight and never let go. It would be different this time, he was strong enough now to have his way. Don’t leave me, don’t give me this legacy of blood, I’d rather starve with you than live without, please please please
The memory faded, but the contact did not. Hands on his face, his head, running through his hair and detangling knots he’d long since stopped caring about. His whole body was lighter than air, floating in a way that was just as familiar as the touch. Every breath came easily, the air cool and recycled but untainted by the stench of rot.
He was out of the sub.
“EYE MOVEMENT DETECTED.”
Simon’s eyes flew open.
He will be with thee, he will not fail thee, neither forsake thee…
Divinity smiled down on him, haloed by light and golden hair. “Uh, good morning?” He said, and the words were accompanied by an undercurrent of song. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard music.
So God created man in his own image…
A tender hand ran along his cheek, soft and kind and so much sweeter than he deserved. Simon instinctively leaned into the touch, a shuddering breath escaping him. The hand of the divine was gentle and soft and smelled faintly of soap and didn’t pull away from him.
The children of Israel went up and wept before the Lord…
Tears welled up in his eyes, but when he blinked, they floated away from him. Zero G. The last time he’d experienced this had been years ago, on the space station. Was he in space now? How long had it been since the divine rescued him? “Oh, hey, you don’t have to cry! It’s okay. You’re safe.” The divine assured him. A moment later, the hands on his face had pulled away and Simon sobbed anew at the lack of contact. “Sorry, sorry, I’m coming right back, okay? Just give me a minute.”
The music grew louder, a small sphere launching itself through the weightless atmosphere. Within it was a stone of some kind. A stone with limbs that was actively moving and making the music. Distantly, Simon thought that he should be more surprised.
But any surprise or disbelief he might’ve had was put aside by the sight of the divine bouncing around inside the cabin, navigating the lack of gravity like he was born for it.
The Spirit of the Lord descended from heaven in the form of a dove…
Simon had only seen doves in old pictures. Grainy, black-and-white images that had been photocopied so often that all Simon could make out was the silhouette of something white and flying. As a child, he struggled to make sense of why God would pick such a creature for his vessel.
Looking upon divinity now, Simon finally understood.
“Alrighty, just need a moment, aaaaand- alley-oop!” His dove grunted as he pulled on the wall, revealing a hidden compartment. The door to the compartment was smooth and white, reflecting back the light from above. It didn’t look anything like Filament Station, or Eden, or even the sparse memories he had of Mars.
The thought that this might actually be heaven crossed his mind before he discarded it. Heaven was for people like Mom, that gave up everything for the greater good. Not for him. Not for butchers.
The dove descended once more, grabbing hold of a grip on the wall to hover by Simon’s right. “Here, I got you some new clothes. Most of yours were, uh… pretty bad.” He admitted, sounding sheepish. A strange device sat on his face, two panes of glass affixed to wire and sitting in front of his eyes.
Simon blinked, gaze flicking everywhere all at once as he tried to take everything in. He was laying down -no, scratch that. He was tied down, but not cruelly. Straps across his chest and legs held him to an operating table in the weightless environment. He used to sleep like this, on the space station. Bandages were wound around his shoulder, around a stump.
The stone was making more music, a coordinated bounce putting it on a collision course with his dove. Panic rose in Simon’s throat as he tried to sit up, they were going to get hurt-
Letting the clothes hover, his dove caught the sphere and adjusted it so the stone was also held in place. “Sorry, sorry. I should introduce us first. I’m Grace, Ryland Grace, and this is Rocky. And you… you’re here.” Laughing breathlessly, his dove reached under the device on his face to rub at his eyes. “I don’t- I don’t even know how it happened. I was just wandering around the ship and then you were here and I can’t even think of the last time I saw another human and-”
A sharp whistle from the stone, from Rocky. His dove waved his hands aggressively -well, not really waved. More like flapped from the wrist, fingers splayed out around an open palm. “Right, right, sorry. I’m getting off track.” Taking in a deep breath, he looked at Simon again with that beautiful, beaming grin. “So! What’s your name?”
Simon blinked, distracted by the way his own tears floated in front of him. He couldn’t remember the last time someone asked for his name. He’d given it to Ava eventually, but she hadn’t asked. Nobody asked. Nobody cared.
On Eden, the brothers had talked about God constantly. Always wondering what He looked like, asking what rewards He would grant them in the next life for their actions on His behalf.
Sitting here now, looking upon his dove, his Grace, Simon couldn’t begin to imagine that He ever desired their violence. How could this soft-spoken, gentle human ever desire cruelty? “...Simon.” He finally replied. The name hung thick on his tongue. It felt like it’d been years since he’d last said it. Maybe it had been. Who knew how long it had been since the sub?
That simple, lackluster answer managed to light up his dove’s entire face. “Simon! It’s wonderful to meet you, Simon. Oh, uh, here, let me unlatch you.” Drifting over, his dove deftly and easily unhooked the straps from the bed. “Do you know how to maneuver, or- oh!”
As soon as he was free, Simon caught hold of his dove’s hand. Soft and warm and this wasn’t just a grand hallucination, this was real. He was real and here and holier than anything in that bloodied hell they’d trapped him in. Bringing his dove’s hand to his face, Simon pressed his forehead to the back of his Grace’s hand. “If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted?” He recited the prayer from memory, from the words of the Father. “I won’t- I’ll be worth it. I swear, I’ll be worth it.” He vowed.
So many people died, that he might live. That he, the sinner he was, might have a chance at redemption.
He wouldn’t let his dove regret this.