Scene from A Little Grace, my (unpublished) BloodyMary giant/tiny fic
context: grace is a borrower (roughly 4 inches/two apples tall). he was in the sm-13, checking the wiring, when he hits his head and loses consciousness. they send the rover down without fetching him, and grace has just revealed himself to simon.
"Are you real?" Simon asks. His voice cracks.
Grace frowns. It's magnified by the wide lenses perched on his nose. He opens his mouth for a knee-jerk retort, and then thinks better of it. His expression softens. "I'm real," he assures Simon.
"Are you-" Simon takes a wobbly breath. "You're sure? Because I don't- I can't handle you just being a figment of my imagination right now. I need you to be-" Simon doesn't finish his sentence. He turns his head away, blinking rapidly.
Grace watches Simon. Even sitting on the floor, Simon is a titanic force - humans always are. But the vulnerability on his far-away face, the desperation in his voice, makes him seem so much smaller.
Grace straightens his spine. He tightens his grip on his tool bag and says, "Let's prove it, then."
Simon's gaze returns, his brows deeply furrowed. "Prove..." Simon starts, but Grace forges ahead.
"Give me your hand," the borrower says, holding out his own.
Simon complies, slowly extending a bandaged arm until his fingers are inches from the little man. Grace catches himself trying to flee, stopping one foot as it slides back across the metal floor. The hand is large, each loosely curled finger longer than his arms. But Grace is determined. Grace pushes himself forward and takes one measly step, reaching out.
Grace hesitates, hand hovering mere centimetres from the human's. His heart is pounding.
Grace places his palm on Simon's index finger.
First contact. The skin is warm, a little damp with sweat, and thick; Grace can feel the thin lines of patterns embedded in it. His hand is so small, lying there on the first segment of Simon's finger. Simon's face has shifted, awe and wonder glimmering in his wide-eyed gawking. Simon's entire hand twitches, fingers convulsing like he's stopping himself from making a fist. Grace forces himself not to bolt.
Simon leans down a little more. "I can feel you," he whispers. "You're..."
"Toldja I'm real," says Grace, his wavering smile betraying his nerves as he stares up at the humongous figure taking up most of his vision. His skin crawls; he's never willingly touched a human before. His palm is tingly. Grace wants to pull away, but he doesn't.
Simon's whole body lurches, and Grace does leap back. Simon sags with relief, his head and shoulders drooping like a teetering bridge. He lets his knuckles rest on the toasty floor. Simon lifts his head again and he finds Grace, some indiscernible emotions shaping his massive features.
"Thank you," Simon says. "I was... really starting to think I was losing it. I mean, tiny people... no offense."
"None taken," Grace replies, casually adjusting his clothes like his soul didn't just jump out of his body.
