Bitch Boy The Pyro

“Today, can I try swimming by myself?” Simon asked quietly, voice barely audible over the waves.

Grace turned to him, surprised.

“By yourself?” He repeated. “Like, with me not in the water?”

Simon nodded nervously. “I want to try.”

Grace shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, shifting the weight of his lifeguard tube as well. It had been a gift from Rocky when Grace had told him he wanted to teach Simon how to swim. Rocky had even made it bright red, somehow, to be just like the ones he’d seen in Earth movies.

After a few moments of silence, Simon’s nervousness grew. His prosthetic felt too heavy for his body suddenly. “Or not, you don’t-”

“Okay.” Grace said, hesitantly. “We can try a solo swim.”

Simon instantly relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief. It wasn’t that he didn’t like swimming with Grace, he did, but Grace tended to hover just a bit too much. Simon had been getting better at swimming recently. He could handle himself.

“I’ll just, uh…” Grace looked around before plopping down on the sand, lifeguard tube resting in his lap. “Sit here. Sound good?”

Simon nodded and Grace gave him a small, albeit nervous, smile.

Simon turned back to the water and began making his way in. The water wasn’t ice cold. It was just warm enough that it wasn’t a complete shock to his system. As he wadded further, the waves began to increase in size, rocking him ever so slightly with each step he took deeper in.

When he was up to his waist, he slid down and pushed off, swimming towards the rolling waves. He let them rock into him as they gently pushing him back. He’d stand back up in the waist high water before pushing out again, letting the waves do all the hard work of sending him back a few feet.

But after a while, he grew bored of the gently waves that only barely moved his body. He wanted something a bit stronger. The waves just a little further out were a bit bigger. They’d send him back further. He wanted to hit them.

So he walked further this time, timing his walks between the waves. As he approached the larger ones, he found them pushing him back even further and harder. It was nice. He liked the force. It wasn’t targeted or intentional. It wasn’t like when he was shoved around in prison. This was just nature doing what it does. It wasn’t personal. It felt nice.

Suddenly his feet are no longer touching the ground.

He begins to tread water like Grace taught him. It’s a bit of a struggle with the prosthetic, but he manages to get a good rhythm—

A wave pushes him back and he goes under. His feet hit the sand underneath and he instinctively pushes off, propelling himself up above the water.

It’s in his eyes. He can’t see. He tries to raise his hands to wipe away the water, but as he makes contact with his eyelids, another unseen waves pushes him back down. His feet once again touch the sand below and he pushes back up, sputtering for air that had been knocked out of him, his eyes still shut from water.

He gives up on trying to wipe his eyes, settling for getting back to shallower water where he can stand properly.

Except he doesn’t know which direction the shallows are in.

So he picks what he thinks is most likely and begins to swim. Or tries to, anyway.

Another wave pushes into his right side and sends him back under, and this time he has to fight to get back up.

The water’s everywhere now. It’s in his nose, in his mouth, in his eyes. It burns his throat.

He attempts to float on his back with his weight distributed in an attempt to get some air into his lungs, but every attempt to get his body horizontal is met with a wave pushing him under. When he comes back up, he coughs wetly between short gasps of air that barely fill his lungs before another wave crashes over him.

Now when he gets sent down, he can no longer feel the bottom under his feet. Is he even right side up? Which way is up? Where is he? He can’t see.

He comes up for air and attempts once more to swim in what he hopes is the direction of shore, but the waves have different plans, rolling into him and rolling him over. The world spins.

He’s going to die.

The thought hits him harder than the waves.

Oh, god, he was going to die.

Panic fills him and he begins thrashing in an aborted attempt at both staying afloat and swimming away.

He doesn’t want to die. Not like this. Not here. Not after everything he’s gone through. This can’t be where he breathes his last, it can’t! Someone help him! Please! Help!

“Help—” he calls weakly as another wave pushes his head just under the surface of the water.

When he comes up again he calls louder, “HELP!”

Distantly, he hears a loud splash. Or was that the sound of the waves hitting him?

Another wave rocks him and he goes down, thrashing violently underwater, swallowing water and the little air he had managed to suck in. He thinks he bites his tongue but doesn’t taste any blood.

And then an arm is hooking itself under his armpits and across his chest and dragging him up.

When he breaks the surface, something thick and buoyant is shoved under his arms and he clings to it like a raft.

“It’s okay! I’ve got you!”

It’s Grace’s voice.

Simon reaches up and wipes his eyes for the first time in what feels like hours. He feels Grace begin to swim and pull him along. He looks over as he coughs up water. Grace looks between him and the shore behind him. He doesn’t have his glasses on. Simon looks forward and sees the clear lenses floating in the water before a wave sucks them under.

“Your glasses…” he mutters weakly as another fit of coughing hits him.

“It’s okay, we’ll find them later.” Grace assures, not stopping his stride.

It isn’t until they get to waist-high water that Grace stops and finally stands, helping Simon to his feet.

Simon sways.

Even though his feet are firmly planted on the ground, he can’t tell which way is up. His body still feels like it’s being batted around by the waves, and his legs wobble. Grace practically lunges to keep him from falling over, slinging his good arm over his shoulder.

“Come on, let’s get out of the water.” Grace says.

Slowly, they begin to push through the shallows until they reach dry sand, and Grace helps Simon sit down.

Simon’s chest hurts. Why does it hurt? Why can’t he breathe, he’s not underwater anymore, oh god, why does it hurt so much?

“Hey,” Grace says, gently, grabbing Simon’s right wrist and bringing it to his chest, just above his heart. “Breathe with me.”

Simon feel Grace’s chest rise and fall in big slow breaths. It takes a few seconds before he starts to mimic it. His chest loosens as air floods in. He can breathe again.

He lets out a shaky gasp.

“Can you bring your knees to your chest for me?”

Simon nods and does as Grace asks, curling himself up into the fetal position. It helps.

“Are you… okay? Does your throat hurt? Do you need some water?”

Simon shakes his head and lets out shaky chuckle. “No, I inhaled enough already.”

Grace tries to laugh to but it comes out pained before he grows serious. “I think we should go back to the house and have Armando check you out.”

He goes to stand but Simon grabs his arm, stopping him. “Wait— Can we… Can we just sit here? For a bit? Please?”

Grace hesitates, but eventually lowers himself back down, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Simon.

They’re silent for a while. Simon breaks it first.

“I thought I was gonna die.” He murmurs.

Grace turns to look at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner. From where I was sitting it looked like you kept diving under the waves. It wasn’t until you yelled ‘Help’ that I realized what was happening.”

“I almost didn’t say it.” Simon admitted.

Grace’s face became one of shock. “What? Why?!”

Simon shrugged a bit. “I thought I could get out of it on my own. Then I realized that I wasn’t strong enough.”

A look pain flashes across the blond man’s face. “Oh, Simon…”

He pulls the black haired man into a hug. Simon freezes.

“You’re plenty strong. But you don’t have to be strong all the time. It’s okay to ask for help, even when you feel like it’s something you should be able to do alone.”

Simon brings his hands up and squeezes Grace’s back tightly, his chest hurting for an entirely different reason now.

“Thank you for saving me,” he cries weakly, burying his face in Grace’s shoulder.

“Of course.”

“I was scared.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t want to die.”

“I won’t let you.”

“Grace.”

“I know.”

“Grace.”

“I’m right here.”

And Simon is crying, the reality of what just happened finally hitting him in full.

Grace just pulls him in tighter, rocking him gently as he sobs into his shoulder.

The two of them sit like that for a while, even after the tears stop falling, and the only sound around them is the crashing waves that seem to have calmed down a bit.

Musical chimes echo off in the distance.

The two men pull away from each other and turn to see Rocky scuttling along the beach as fast as his legs can take him.

Grace Simon! Grace Simon! Grace Simon!

He slows down just enough so that when he crashes into Simon’s left side the man isn’t too injured.

He’s speaking too fast for either of them to be able to understand.

“Rocky, buddy, slow down.” Grace says calmly.

Rocky sorry sorry sorry!

Grace stares at him, befuddled. “Sorry for what, bud?”

Wave machine break! Make stronger waves than should! Rocky not fix in time! Friend Simon get hurt!

Rocky begins to run circles around the two, scanning both for injuries even though he doesn’t need to move around them to see.

“Rock, hey, calm down.” Simon says gently, attempting to soothe the Eridian.

Simon hurt, question? Simon hurt, question??

Rocky stops running in circles in front of Simon, his musical voice panicked and high.

“I’m okay, now, Rock.” Simon assures. “Grace got me out.”

Simon really okay, question??

“Yes, I am.”

At the confirmation, Rocky visibly sags, body relaxing. He begins crawling between Simon’s outstretched legs before settling in his lap, the front of his xenonite suit pressing against Simon’s stomach.

Rocky glad friend Simon okay. Rocky scared scared scared.

His musical notes almost sound like he’s crying.

Simon wraps his arms around the xenonite as he gives him a hug. “It’s okay, Rock. I’m okay.”

Really, question?

“Really, statement.”

Rocky goes fully limp at that, and Simon hugs him harder.

Grace smiles tiredly and leans against Simon’s shoulder. Simon raises his right arm and loops it over Grace’s shoulder, pulling him into the hug as well.

“Thank you.” Simon whispers, a few more tears falling from his eyes. “Both of you. For saving me.”

Inspired by me almost drowning yesterday at a water park, because I cope with traumatic events in weird ways. So Simon's entire ordeal here (including most, if not all, of his inner dialogue) is almost 1:1 what I experienced yesterday. So yeah, this was the easiest fic I've ever written cause I basically just recounted everything that happened to me from Simon's POV, lol.

Gonna cross post this on my AO3, too, if anyone's interested: https://archiveofourown.org/works/87614311

When my stomach feels hollow, my body shakes when I stand up, and my right eye feels like it's on fire.

Inspired by this post by @glowbeam:

Grace was worried about the stranger. Finding anyone just drifting through space was bad enough, but finding them drifting through space in a shoddily welded, blood soaked submarine with one of their arms detached from their body and hanging from a pipe inside? Yeah, 'bad' was an understatement.

Even just thinking about the amount of blood inside the sub made Grace feel like vomiting. ... Again.

Grace didn't even know how this man was even alive. All he knew is that he wanted the man to stay that way.

He loved Rocky, really, he did. But the chance to have another human to talk to? That was just something he couldn't risk losing.

He approached the bed where the man was laying with various machines hooked up to him.

"You can't just show up at the doorstep of my ship and then die." He murmured, a soft smile on his lips. "That would just be mean."

He reached out to tuck a strand of dark hair behind the man's ear, when suddenly a hand was wrapped around his wrist in a crushing grip.

He jolted in shock and looked down.

The man was awake.

"Uh... H-hey there," Grace said nervously. "Glad to see you're-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence as the man let out an angry yell before launching himself up and off the bed, tackling Grace to the floor.

He wrapped his right, and only, hand around Grace's neck and used it to hold himself up while his lower body pressed itself between his legs, with Grace's calves hooked over his thighs.

"I WON'T GO BACK!" The man screamed, voice raw and gravelly. "I WON'T LET YOU SEND ME BACK DOWN THERE!"

Grace felt his lungs constrict from the sudden lack of air.

This situation felt familiar. Not the dangerous "I'm going to choke to death" part, but the position of their bodies.

He'd been in this position before, but not here. Not on the Hail Mary. No, it had been back on Earth, with someone he trusted and loved very dearly, and who cared about him just as much.

"Come on, Ryland, just like we practiced. First, the cross grip-"

Grace brought his right arm up and grabbed the strangers forearm.

"...step two, lean across the neck-"

He brought his left hand up and over the man's arm, gripping his left shoulder tightly.

"...you know what to do next right?"

Grace did.

He planted his left foot on the man's hip, pivoted his body to the right, and swung his right leg up and across the man's shoulder blades before swinging his left leg up and over the stranger's head, locking his ankles together.

He slid his left hand down from the man's shoulder until he was gripping his forearm with both hands. Then, with a strangled grunt, he used his legs and hips to throw the stranger off of him and onto the ground, trapping his head under the back of his knee and locking the man's only arm between his legs.

With both of his hands gripping the stranger's wrist, and the position he had his arm in in between his legs, Grace could easily snap the man's elbow with a sharp lift of his hips.

Wait. How did he know that?

"You did good, Ryland."

"Thanks, Court. Although, I doubt I'm gonna get strangled at a middle school of all places."

"It's better to know how to do it and never use it, then not know when you need to use it. 'Sides, what kind of big brother would I be if I didn't teach you how to protect yourself?"

"Well, between you teaching me how to throw off an attacker, and Colt teaching me how to fall from tall heights without breaking any bones, I'd say I'm gonna be pretty indestructible."

"Someone has to look out for you, cause it sure isn't going to be yourself."

"Hey!"

Oh, God. Grace had brothers. He remembered now. An older one named Court, and a twin named Colt. How could he have forgotten about them?

The stranger let out a feral growl and it snapped Grace back to the present. He pulled down on the man's arm, pulling it farther back than it was ever supposed to bend. The man made no sound of pain, but he did stop moving.

"Listen, I don't want to hurt you, but I am prepared to defend myself." Grace said, voice serious. "Now, we can either talk this out like adults, or I can make it so both arms are out of commission."

The man was silent for a few seconds. Then:

"Get. Off. Me."

Grace pulled down on his arm a bit more. The man didn't wince, but he did stiffen.

"Promise that you won't attack me again."

He could practically see the man bristle at his words.

"...Fine."

Slowly, Grace released his hold on the man's arm, and he immediately twisted himself out of Grace's leg-lock and scrambled backward, spine hitting the wall with a painful-sounding thud.

"I'm not going back." The man growled, head tilted down as he glared up at Grace through his messy black hair. "You can't make me!"

"I'm not going to make you do anything." Grace said, standing up and brushing himself off dramatically. "But I am going to ask that you please get back on the bed so I can treat the wound you gave yourself when your IV got ripped out. I'd really prefer it if you didn't bleed out on the floor."

The man looked down to see that his arm was, in fact, bleeding profusely from where the IV used to be inserted.

He looked back up to continue glaring at Grace.

"What the fuck do you care if I bleed out?" He growled.

"I didn't pull you out of a submarine filled to the brim with blood just to watch you die from losing your own!" Grace snapped. "Now, would you please get back on the bed?"

"If this is some kind of fucking trick to get me back in that goddamn sub-"

Grace physically recoiled. "WHAT?! What are you-?! Why on God's green Earth would I ever put you back in that?!"

The man flinched at Grace's outburst.

"I don't know! To get more samples?! More pictures of that- that thing!?"

"What 'thing'?!"

The man stared at him in confusion. Then his confusion gradually shifted to one of understanding.

"You're not with the COI." It's not a question.

"Should I be?!" Grace shrieks.

The stranger stared at him in silence, as if weighing the pros and cons of the answer to that question.

Then, he slowly stood up and shuffled over to the bed, sitting down on the edge.

Grace stared in stunned silence, which the man quickly lost his patience for.

"You said you were gonna fix this shit, so do it." He growled, waving his right arm in demonstration.

"Right, yes, sorry!" Grace sputtered, rushing to his side and beginning to wrap his arm with bandages provided by Armando.

"My name is Dr. Ryland Grace, by the way." He said, not looking up from the stranger's arm. "But everyone just calls me Grace."

The man grunted.

"What's your name?"

"You talk too much."

Grace laughed nervously. "I get that a lot."

The two fell into an awkward silence.

Once he finished wrapping the man's arm, Grace re-inserted the IV and stepped back, giving the man some space.

The two stared at each other.

Grace tapped his fingers together nervously.

"Well-"

"You fight good."

"Huh?"

The man looked away, shoulders tense. "I said you fight good. Not many people can beat me in a fight."

It took Grace a few seconds to process the compliment, but when he did, he smiled nervously. "Uh, thanks. I think. You know, to be honest, I didn't even know I was capable of that. But then I remembered how my older brother used to make me spar with him and oh mY GOD I HAVE BROTHERS."

In all the commotion he had completely forgotten (again) about the fact that he had two brothers. God, this amnesia thing sucked.

"Holy moly, I have brothers!" He whispered, fingers beginning to pull at his short blond hair nervously. "Gosh, I hope they weren't too upset that I didn't say goodbye. Well, not like I really had a choice..."

"What are you mumbling about?" The one-armed man asked, his voice filled with caution.

"Nothing. Sorry, just- Just realizing some things about myself is all. Like the fact that apparently I have two brothers."

"You forgot your own brothers?" The man asked, judgement in his tone.

"It's a long story." Grace said with a wave of his hand. "I'll tell you later. Right now, you should try and get some sleep. When you wake up again I'll get you something to eat. In the meantime-"

He opened a panel on the wall and pulled out a bag of water.

"-you can drink this if you're thirsty. Which I imagine you probably are given how long you were asleep."

He held it out to the man who looked between him and the bag like he wasn't sure what to do.

Grace shook the bag a bit, indicating for him to take it.

When the man realized it was for him, he snatched it from Grace's hand in the blink of an eye and clutched it to his chest.

Grace blinked in surprise. Okay. Not the reaction he was expecting, but that was fine.

"If you finish it and want some more, just ask Armando and he'll get you some." Grace said. "Try to get some sleep."

And then he turned and began walking towards the door. Just as he reached it, he heard the man on the bed speak.

"Simon."

"Huh?" The blond asked, dumbfounded, as he turned to face the one-armed man.

"My name. It's Simon."

Grace stared for a few seconds before smiling gently.

"It's nice to meet you, Simon. Get some rest. We'll talk more later."

Then he opened the door.

And found Rocky on the other side.

"New human awake now, question?"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!"

I used this moment in this self-defense video as a reference when I was writing Grace fighting back.