Meanwhile At The Hall Of Doom

tis a sign

Hold on I gotta look this guy up

probably ooc but like i can see some intrusive thoughts like "if his dad was still alive no force in the universe would stop me from waterboarding him"

I think it probably takes a while before Simon gets the full story.

Obviously he knows that Ryland had a rough childhood. The way Ryland freezes when there's loud unexpected noises, how he flinches when someone raises their voice, the scars on his skin that are old and faded to a fine silver, how sometimes there are days where he can't even stand to get into the shower, they way he wrinkles his nose at the stench of whiskey and cigarettes--when Simon looks at Ryland it's almost like looking in a mirror sometimes.

So Simon knows, but he doesn't ask.

Because he gets it.

He does.

And besides. Ryland never pushed Simon for his whole story until he was ready, so Simon doesn't push him either.

It's not until one night, after Ryland came out of the shower struggling to breathe and scrubbing the water from his face hard enough Simon was afraid he'd make himself bleed, where they're laying in bed back to back with the safety of the dark and the blankets surrounding them, does Ryland tell him. He tells Simon about his mother. About his father. About Colt. About Court. And Simon listens. He doesn't talk. He just...listens. And when Ryland runs out of words and the sun has crept up the horizon Simon turns to face him and he holds him so painfully close as Ryland's body shakes and shudders on every sob that rips its way from between his ribs.

And, well.

Simon isn't naturally a violent sort of dog.

He's really not, despite everything that he's done.

He would never wish harm on anyone. Never wish anyone dead. Never be glad that anyone is dead.

Except he is.

Just this once.

He is glad that Ryland's father is dead.

He is glad that his death was messy and brutal and undignified.