nonsensical thoughts

Simon tenses. Feels it racket through his body, feels it square his shoulders and clench his jaw. He doesn't turn his head. Refuses to.

There is someone in the corner of his vision, and he knows they aren't real.

The Hail Mary has three passengers. Simon has not just double-checked, he's checked again, again, again, until even Mary had asked about it, and then he had paced through the ship, had checked every corner, every little nook and cranny, and he had found no one but them.

He knows it's a hallucination.

It still makes him tense. Still makes his brain sit up and howl, because there is someone in the ship, and they are going to hurt them, and why hasn't Simon dealt with it? Why hasn't he done something? Why is he just sitting around?

"Simon okay, question?"

Simon jumps. Snaps his head around- and when had he turned it, when had he looked away- to find Grace and Rocky both looking at him, quiet, and Simon nods, rubs a sweaty palm across the arc of his knee.

"Yeah," he says. "Of course. Everything's fine, Rock."

Grace raises his eyebrows. Shares a look with Rocky, and for a second, Simon thinks he might actually pry.

"If you're sure...?" he says, instead, trailing and open and Simon nods, curls his fingers to his palm and squeezes, once.

Uncurls.

Rocky makes a quiet, hesitant noise, a whistling little tune the translator doesn't pick up on, and Grace frowns, leans back in his seat, and Simon could so easily tell them.

It'd be a mistake. He knows it would be.

Grace and Rocky are kind. They're going above and beyond, are helping him despite everything, and Simon thinks, maybe, it wouldn't matter. Maybe.

But he's not putting more on them. He can't do that. There's other things at stake, other problems to solve, and it's not like Simon can't just put up with it. It's an hallucination. It'll be fine.

He doesn't turn his head. Raises an eyebrow as the silence lingers on, and slowly, tentatively, Grace picks the conversation back up.