"I'm not worth all this." Simon said, his voice breaking through the comfortable silence he and Grace had settled into moments ago. Rocky was asleep behind them, and they were both leaned against the protective dome encircling Rocky- a projection of a forest at night played on the screens surrounding the three of them.
Grace looked over at Simon, confused and worried. Simon didn’t like that expression on him. He preferred him smiling. He wanted to reach out and smooth the wrinkles between his eyebrows, but he refrained. He didn't deserve to touch him. He didn’t.
"I, um," Grace laughed awkwardly and immediately hated himself for the reaction, but he really wasn't sure how to proceed here, "Si, that's- what do you mean?" Simon let out a grunt in response, his face contorting to form a sort of uncomfortable grimace. He had a hard time articulating his feelings. It wasn’t exactly something Eden found important to teach. This wasn’t a feeling though, it was fact. And yet, he still couldn’t figure out how to put it in the right words.
"It’s-" he started, interrupting himself to huff, "it's just-... I've- I've done... awful things, and-" 'You deserved to die,' a voice rung out in his head, 'You deserve to rot. Life is wasted on you. You would do far better as fertilizer. That is your purpose.' Simon drew in a long, shaking breath, "I'm not worth your time. Or your resources. I shouldn't-"
"Simon," Grace interrupted, his voice unwavering- expression serious and bold. His brow was still wrinkled, but something about the intensity of Grace's eyes made the expression less offensive to Simon than it had been prior. He felt pinned under Grace's gaze now though, like a butterfly to a board. Grace pressed on, as though the sudden intensity hadn't completely discombobulated Simon.
"I need you to understand that I don't care what you did. Whatever it was, it's in the past. If you ever want to talk about it- to talk through it, I'm here- but it does not condemn you. Not to me. Alright?" Grace's pupils darted slightly about Simon's face, waiting for a response that didn’t want to come. Simon was completely thrown. He had never had anyone look at him like that, and it was... it was too much. He suddenly stood, heart pounding, staring down at Grace. Grace's eyes had followed him up, and he seemed so surprised- so concerned. Simon couldn't take it.
He fled the room, grateful for the fact that Grace didn't seem to be following him, though he did hear him call his name as he left. He paused in one of the halls of the Hail Mary, resting against a wall and catching his breath. He put his head in his hand, his mind rushing. He peered at the ground through his fingers. Pristine white. Like most of the things in the place. He could feel his face against the palm of his hand. It felt... hot. Was he mutating again? He felt like he couldn't hold onto a single coherent thought, like he was going to throw up or something- and then Grace's face flashed through his mind. The piercing gaze he had just been caught beneath, then him smiling- laughing, and then him asleep at his desk after passing out while working... Simon knew what this was. He'd just- he'd never experienced it personally. His hand slowly balled into a fist, fingers clawing not so gently against his skin as he shut his eyes tight.