i know (simon likes death and dying)

Simon opened his eyes to darkness. He was not alone.

White pain washed over him in waves, ebbing and flowing with each rise and fall of his chest. Breath didn’t move through his chest, but instinct was always harder than anything else to break.

He had been here before.

“He killed you.”

The whispers broke the silence. Silence relaxed, wishing that he could great them like old friends. Instead, he raise his hand to brush over his neck, feeling the rough skin and slick gore left in the wake of a knife. “I know,” he said, his voice surprisingly clear. He was dead; sound came from his soul rather than his mangled body.

“Your father.”

A different voice this time. He had earned himself a greeting from the best of them this time, rather than the typical strangers of the Styx. Simon knew what she meant- he wasn’t supposed to be a victim of infanticide. It wasn’t supposed to happen. He swallowed.

It hurt.

“I know.”

“He killed you.” Clotho. Frantic.

“I know.”

“He’s never done this before.” Lachesis. Mourning.

“I know.”

“You can’t stay.” Atropos. Determined. Resolute.

Simon sat up. The world didn’t shift to make any more sense. He swallowed, despite the pain, and tried to stand himself up. Fate allowed him to, sweeping around him in support like a gust of wind.

“I know,” he said, feeling mournful. Hurt. Afraid. “I know, I know, I know. Thank you for coming to me.”

“You can’t *stay*,” Atropos said.

“He can’t leave, either,” Lachesis said.

Simon shook his head and started to walk through the river. Each step drew out his pain and sucked the breath out of him. He stumbled halfway through.

“You have to *heal.*” Clotho sounded the closest. She who saw the start of life. She who weaved the thread. She squeezed his arm and helped him up, so that he could sit in the middle and remember what breathing felt like. It hurt.

He dragged his hands down his face and sucked in a ragged breath. He wasn’t going to cry- Not yet, at least.

“I know.”