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Chapter Text

Simon had always considered himself an explorer of sorts.

It wasn't in his nature as a dwarf to be curious and exploratory, these were traits he had simply found himself with at some point in time. He hadn't asked to have vivid dreams of travelling to the stars and beyond - he had even wished these dreams had never occurred at times. With this in mind, Simon considered himself the most knowledgeable dwarf when it came to space-related phenomenon. He could name most of the planets in the solar system, he understood that Earth orbited around the sun, he knew what a star was and could grasp that it was significantly larger than his planet. These were things not all dwarfs seemed to get. Not all dwarfs were like Simon, not all dwarfs would emerge from the underground at night to watch the stars speckle the sky as the sun lowered beneath the horizon. No, that was something only Simon would do.

In a way, Simon could understand their reluctance. To them, there wasn't much excitement to be found in staring at stars that were billions of miles away. Nothing really happened, after all. Simon would stare and stare and stare, and then he would go back home. While the sky above him was fairly static, his thoughts were endlessly rapid. How long would it take to fly to the moon? What did the moon look like? What did the moon smell like? Was it possible to live on the moon? How about Mars? How about the infinite other planets in space, were any of them capable of sustaining life?

These were the questions Simon was asking himself on the night of his very first alien encounter.

The first difference in his nightly routine had been a shooting star. It wasn't the first shooting star Simon had seen, but nonetheless, it was exciting. The second difference in his nightly routine was the realization that the star was getting larger, significantly larger, and that it seemed to be heading straight down. Plummeting. It was going to hit Earth, and it was going to hit nearby. Simon sprang to his feet, almost tripping over himself as he rushed to catch up with the speeding object. It couldn't be more than a few tens of metres north of him, well within running distance. As the ball of light got closer, Simon could see it more clearly. It was on fire. The thing was completely ablaze, and not only that, but it wasn't a meteorite like Simon had come to expect. It was shiny. it was shapely. It was metal.

"You're fucking kidding," Simon mumbled, his eyes widening as his heart seemed to lock up in his chest. "That's a ship."

What had to be mere milliseconds after the words left his mouth, the fireball made impact. The force nearly bowled Simon over, the dwarf filling with newfound vigour as dust erupted from the ground a few metres ahead of him. He was quick to respond, charging forward once again as fast as his legs could carry him. Surprisingly, the fire seemed to dull just as quickly as it had engulfed the scene, leaving only flickers in its wake as Simon approached the crash site. Shards of metal - Simon couldn't pin down what kind of metal, surprisingly - were jutting out of trees around him, sticking up from the dirt and scattering at his feet. There was a hole, not too deep, the remains of the ship still burning within it. For several moments, there was nothing.

Then something began to move.

"Christ," Simon caught his breath, hurriedly readying his sword as he watched the twitching heap of metal.

Before he could ready a plan of attack, a figure staggered out, coughing and gasping as it collapsed to the ground a few steps from the wreckage, still hacking into the dirt on its hands and knees. The night seemed to light up with a strong blue glow emanating from the being's face - its eyes, Simon noted, but not just its eyes - as it turned in horror back towards its ship. Simon found himself unable to look away, his sword lowering unconsciously as the being scrambled to its feet. It was tall, tall and thin, almost wiry. If not for its brightly glowing features, Simon almost could have mistaken it for a man.

The being had short brown hair, seemingly trimmed to perfection, much like his facial hair. He was pristine, almost geometric with how sharply he was groomed. The material of his clothing was unfamiliar, though his outfit certainly wasn't a style Simon was familiar with. His face was spattered with freckles, brightly glowing freckles that almost seemed to pulse with energy as his eyes widened in panic. Simon imagined he would have been panicked too, had it been his spacecraft burning in a hole on an unfamiliar planet.

"Excuse me," Simon called, lowering his sword. "Are you alright?"

The alien startled suddenly with a yelp, reaching for a holster on his waist as Simon quickly raised his hands in innocent surrender. The alien had a gun pointed at him. Well, it was only a gun if Simon had to put a label on it. It didn't appear to have a barrel, so much as it did three ominously hovering disks around a single glowing rod. A ray gun. It had to be a ray gun.

"Kʼiwɑ̙ u̘ppɑ̙ppɑ̙!" he barked, waving the weapon threateningly at the dwarf.

Despite the alien's harsh tone, Simon could easily see the fear in his body language. His hands were shaking, his knees appearing ready to buckle underneath him as blood - blue, Simon noted - dripped from his nose and lip. He looked panicked. He looked distraught. He looked afraid.

"I'm sorry," Simon began hesitantly, letting his hands lower slightly. "I don't understand."

"Kʼɑ̙ i kʼɑ̙g fifɑ̙ su̘mɑ̙p!" the being ordered, his chest still rising and falling in a way that Simon feared looked pained.

This thing was hurt and panicking.

Before Simon could repeat his plight - he had no idea what this thing was saying - he became aware of a sound. The sound of boiling. The sound of something in the heaping ship wreckage boiling. The alien seemed to become aware at the same moment as Simon did, because in an instant, he was fleeing the scene. Simon wasn't a genius, but he could take a hint. He knew when something was about to explode. Hastily dropping his sword - it would only serve to slow him down and make him look threatening - Simon took off, barely clearing the blast zone before the heap of metal seemed to combust like dynamite. Shards of metal shot out like bullets, the alien quickly covering his head with his hands as he staggered backwards, tumbling over and landing soundly in the sand next to Simon.

Neither of them spoke for a moment.

"Well that happened," Simon mumbled blankly, watching the fire flicker in the night sky.

"Pɑ̙kɑ̙..." the being croaked, sitting up and watching the scene with glassy, glowing eyes.

"Are you alright, mate?"

His eyes flickered aside to meet Simon's, the dwarf staring back at him in awe and concern. His chest was still rising and falling a little too quickly for Simon's liking, his nose a little too bloody, his hands a little too shaky. The problem was, Simon wasn't exactly a doctor. Even if this thing was hurt, what could he do about it? Even if he had been a medical professional, this was an alien. He had found an alien.

"Tɑ̙ndu̘kʼ."

"I'm sorry?"

"Gu̘ppɑ̙ bɑ̙kʼ ɑ̙g,ɑ̙kʼ tɑ̙ndu̘kʼ," the alien stressed, speaking slowly and clearly as if this would somehow make his words clearer. "Ti kikann ɑ̙g,ɑ̙kʼ?"

Simon frowned slightly, furrowing his brow. Clearly he would be dealing with a language barrier here, and if he didn't come up with a solution soon, they wouldn't be getting anywhere fast. Even one word would be a good start. A name would be helpful.

"Simon," the dwarf began, pointing to himself with both hands before pointing instead at the alien. "You?"

"Sa'i'mon..." the alien muttered, Simon noting the odd breaks and pauses in his pronunciation. "Ɑ̙g,ɑ̙kʼ tɑ̙ndu̘kʼ tiwɑ̙g Sa'i'mon..."

One particular word seemed to have carried over: tɑ̙ndu̘kʼ. Simon had no clue what it meant, but if it was somehow a relevant word, it might be a good starting point.

"Tɑ̙ndu̘kʼ?" Simon questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Tɑ̙ndu̘kʼ," the creature repeated, furrowing his brow, running his scratched-up fingers through his hair in exasperation. "Eh...bɑ̙kʼ tɑ̙ndu̘kʼ ɑ̙g,ɑ̙kʼ Sa'i'mon. Bɑ̙ i tɑ̙ndu̘kʼ ɑ̙g,ɑ̙kʼ Xephos."

Simon squinted slightly in confusion, working over the words in his head. Him. Tɑ̙ndu̘kʼ. Simon.

"My name-?" Simon rejoined, blinking alertly. "You mean my name? My name is Simon."

"Name," the alien parrotted thoughtfully.

"Is your name Xephos then?" Simon asked, piecing together the puzzle in his head.

"Wit! Wit, Xephos!" Xephos stressed, seemingly relieved at this small breach in the language barrier. "Xephos."

"A much cooler name than Simon, I should think," Simon joked, cracking a small smile before turning his attention to the blood dripping from Xephos' chin. "Are you hurt?"

When Xephos stared at him blankly, Simon pointed at the bloody trails across the alien's mouth, raising an eyebrow.

"Hurt?" he repeated, gesturing to the cut that decorated Xephos' lip.

Xephos' hand came up to reach the cut, the alien wincing and jerking his fingers away when pain radiated through him. Simon frowned; the cut looked bad, he would need help dealing with that. He would need help dealing with all of this, frankly. Simon didn't know where Xephos was from, but he clearly wasn't from here.

"Here," Simon offered, rummaging through his bag before presenting Xephos with a small bottle of bright pink liquid. "It's a health potion, I've got well over enough, take it. It'll help you."

Xephos was hesitant. Simon couldn't blame him, he wouldn't have been the first to take a mysterious liquid from an alien stranger either, but hesitancy seemed to give way to desperation as Xephos took the bottle, struggling slightly with the cork. Simon offered a sympathetic smile, reaching over and uncorking the bottle before pressing it back into Xephos' hands. Giving Simon a suspicious look, he took a sip from the bottle, small red particles rising up around him for a moment as the potion took effect. Xephos seemed awed as his lip began to heal, the scratches and cuts clearing from his skin and bringing him back to a resting complexion that Simon couldn't help noting as incredibly pale.

"You alright then, friend?"

Xephos didn't answer (Simon hadn't expected him to), instead unsteadily rising to his feet. He towered well above Simon, intimidating the dwarf slightly. It didn't help that he knew Xephos was carrying a gun and that he himself was now unarmed. He doubted Xephos would suddenly choose to attack him, but then again, he knew absolutely nothing about Xephos aside from his name.

"Kʼɑ̙ ɑ̙g,ɑ̙kʼ ɑ̙tu̘w tibɑ̙?" Xephos questioned, tucking his stray ray gun back into its holster and eyeing Simon with newly found strength.

"Mate, I don't understand you," Simon insisted, folding his arms and staring up at the alien. "It doesn't matter how slow you talk, I'm not gonna get it."

Xephos furrowed his brow, looking around. The vast expanses of desert and forest didn't seem to strike any chords of familiarity in his expression. He clearly had no idea where he had landed. Simon's own feelings were mixed; he was absolutely fascinated, he was terrified, he was in awe. More than that, he was feeling rather sympathetic to his newly arrived visitor. Despite being healed and appearing much stronger than he had moments ago, Xephos was clearly terrified and panicking. He had crash landed. For all Simon knew, he was stuck here.

"Hey," Simon began, Xephos still staring out at the environment around them. "Hey. Xephos."

The alien quickly turned to look at him.

"I'll take you back to the base, get you cleaned up, get you fed. We'll work from there, yeah?"

As expected, he received a confused stare. Simon sighed.

"Follow," he stated bluntly, turning and beckoning Xephos to trail him as he walked off back into the forest.

Xephos seemed to get the message.

Chapter Text

"Right, just take a seat right there then," Simon mused, digging through his chests as Xephos sat upon the furnace, instantly seeming to relax.

As soon as they had strayed from the fire, Xephos had started shivering. It hadn't been that cold out. That was Simon's first lesson about Xephos, it didn't take much to make him cold. The alien was balled up on top of the furnace, food cooking away below him as he hugged his knees for warmth. Despite the health potion Simon had given him, Xephos still didn't seem to be in the best shape. His cuts had been healed, that was clear enough, but something was catching Simon's eye.

"Is your arm alright, friend?" Simon questioned, raising an eyebrow at his guest.

Xephos had been cradling his arm for a while now. Simon had yet to see him use it, which was worrying. If there was something wrong with Xephos that a potion couldn't fix, Simon would need to seek actual help, and he didn't exactly know how to get medical help for an alien. Unsurprisingly, Xephos gave him a look of confusion, and Simon cradled his own arm in imitation before pointing to Xephos' arm and raising an eyebrow.

Xephos looked away sheepishly, letting his arm drop and flinching slightly when it bounced against his leg. Simon furrowed his brow and sighed; the alien was definitely injured. He wasn't smart enough for alien medical care, that much was clear to him. He would have to find somebody a little more clever to handle this one.

"Can I see it?" Simon asked, taking a step towards Xephos, his hand hovering over the arm patiently.

Xephos didn't seem to protest. Simon took this as an invitation to continue, rolling up Xephos' sleeve as carefully as he could. The arm was badly bruised, dark blues and purples standing out garishly on Xephos' pale skin. There was a slight crookedness to the angle of Xephos' wrist that made Simon nauseous, and he was fairly certain that the limb was broken.

"Christ, mate," he mumbled, brushing his fingers against the darkening patches.

Xephos squirmed slightly under his touch, obviously resisting the urge to jerk his arm away from Simon.

"Right, okay, I've got an idea," Simon sighed, "I know a guy, but we're going to have to wait 'til morning on this one."

Despite the blank stare Simon received at this statement, he knew it was important to keep talking to Xephos as if he understood. The more English he heard, the better, in Simon's mind. As soon as they breached this language barrier, Simon had a million questions to ask. Luckily, Xephos seemed to be fairly clever, picking up on Simon's gestures and phrases fairly quickly. He hoped that would come in handy.

"Get some rest, alright?" Simon offered a sympathetic smile. "I can push my bed up to the furnace for you, you can take it for the night. I'm used to sleeping on the rocks, dwarf and all."

Xephos nodded slowly, obviously not understanding a word of what Simon had said but grateful nonetheless. Simon made quick work of dragging his bed to the furnace, grunting with effort as he dropped it soundly in front of Xephos. Xephos eyed the feature curiously before stepping down from the furnace, sitting instead on the bed next to it and inspecting the red sheets.

"Fibdu̘nnɑ̙ppɑ̙kʼ," Xephos mumbled thoughtfully.

"God, was that one word?" Simon muttered, dumbfounded. "You're making this awfully hard for me, friend."

Xephos gave an apologetic smile, one that Simon couldn't help but return. It was the first time he had seen Xephos smile tonight. It suited him nicely, but it also seemed like he didn't smile often. Simon tried to imagine what kind of person Xephos might be: He looked quite official and he had been in an alien space ship, maybe he was a commander of some kind? A pilot? He added that to the list of questions he would be asking Xephos once they could understand each other.

"Alright then," Simon rejoined. "G'night Xephos."

Xephos gave a small hum of acknowledgement before lying down. Simon turned, trying to mask the excitement written all over his face. He had met a real life alien, how was he supposed to get to sleep after something like that?

"Sa'i'mon."

Simon groaned sleepily, swatting the air as a voice interrupted his rest.

"Eh- Sa'i'mon!" Xephos scowled as Simon's limp hand connected weakly with his cheek.

"Give me a minute," Simon croaked, propping himself up and rubbing his eyes. "Sorry 'bout that, friend."

"Kʼɑ̙ kʼɑ̙ ɑ̙g,ɑ̙kʼ fɑ̙bi?"

"What?"

Xephos stared at him sternly for a moment before sighing defeatedly and pinching his nose bridge in frustration. Simon's eyes drifted down to Xephos' arm, now held up in a sort of make-shift sling crafted from Xephos' holster. Simon blinked. That was clever.

"Hell, how is it already morning?" Simon mumbled, forcing himself to his feet and surveying Xephos. "How'd you sleep?"

Xephos raised an eyebrow. Simon, again, had expected that. He decided that it may be good to get some basic words down, such as yes and no. Words that one would teach to a small child, short and simple words that would be easy for Xephos to pronounce. Colours, maybe? Animals? Foods?

"We should probably get going, I bet he's already up by now," Simon yawned. "Tricky bastard."

Xephos stood, dusting his pants off neatly as Simon glanced up at him. His features weren't glowing as they had before, his freckles now dimly spotting his face without much of a show to offer. In the daylight Simon could more accurately see his features; Xephos had a fairly sharp jawline, everything about him was lanky and tidy. He was Simon's polar opposite in that aspect.

"Follow," Simon instructed, leading Xephos towards the door of his base.

Recognition seemed to spark in Xephos' eyes at the order, Simon had used that word before. Xephos nodded quickly, trailing behind Simon and inspecting the walls as he passed them.

"Follow," he mumbled to himself, Simon cracking a small smile at Xephos' use of English. "Follow Sa'i'mon."

The walk wasn't a long one, and Simon actually enjoyed it quite a bit. Xephos seemed fascinated by each and every thing they passed, often tripping or pausing as he tried to take it all in. The world seemed to shine anew in the daylight and Xephos was enthralled.

"Sa'i'mon," Xephos piped up from behind the dwarf, Simon peering over his shoulder and raising an eyebrow as they walked.

Xephos had picked a flower of some kind, clearly fascinated with what he was holding. He pointed to it and raised an eyebrow.

"Flower," Simon informed, giving a small smile as he turned back to the path head of him.

"Flower," Xephos echoed, furrowing his brow thoughtfully before tucking into his sling pointedly.

"We're almost there, see that?" Simon rejoined, pointing up at the fairly large white building they were approaching.

Next to said building was a large fenced pen, chocobos roaming around in its grass. Xephos seemed to choke for a moment when he saw them, immediately tapping Simon on the shoulder and pointing hurriedly at the birds.

"Those are chocobos, mate," Simon grinned. "Chocobo."

"Chocobo," Xephos mused to himself. "Mu̘nɑ̙..."

"Simon?"

Simon quickly turned to face forward again, Duncan watching him curiously. Xephos perked up, turning to Duncan in surprise and raising an eyebrow. The scientist was holding a large egg - Simon didn't question what was inside - and standing in the doorway of his lab, staring the duo down. His focus slowly drifted away from Simon and found itself solely on Xephos.

"Hey," Duncan breathed, clearly taken by the fact that some kind of extraterrestrial was standing on his path.

"Let me explain," Simon quickly began. "Right, so-"

"Su̘mbɑ̙pɑ̙bi," Xephos interrupted, his eyes searching Duncan curiously. "Tɑ̙ndu̘kʼ?"

"His name's Duncan," Simon chimed in. "He's a friend."

"You found an alien?" Duncan questioned breathlessly, setting his egg on the grass and hurrying towards Simon and Xephos to closer inspect his discovery. "You found an actual alien?"

"Xephos," Xephos stated cautiously, pointing to himself.

"Hello Xephos," Duncan greeted, his grin slowly spreading. "It's absolutely fantastic to meet you."

"I just found him last night," Simon explained. "He was all banged up, I saw the ship crash."

"The ship's here?!"

"It's a little bit exploded, Dunc."

"You've gotta let me see it, Simon!"

"We need help first," Simon explained hesitantly. "I think he's broke his arm."

Duncan's excited grin dropped, the scientist turning to glance at Xephos' sling curiously. Simon trusted Duncan to an extent. Duncan would definitely want to help, but he worried that Duncan may want to help a little too much. He worried that Duncan would want to pick Xephos apart (or at least scan him or some other sciencey thing.)

"Right," Duncan began. "I'll have to take a look and see what I can do, I don't know anything about his bone structure. Have you tried a health potion?"

Simon nodded, Xephos glancing between the two of them suspiciously before peering down at his arm. A bright red flower was still resting in his sling, tucked above his holstered gun. Duncan seemed to catch sight of the gun at the same moment Xephos did.

"Christ, and what's this then?" he questioned, reaching for the weapon.

Before another word could be spoken, Xephos had the gun drawn, pointed at Duncan's paused hand as the scientist yelped in surprise.

"Kʼu̘ppikʼ pɑ̙kʼindu̘su̘ nit tɑ̙ witɑ̙p nu̘kʼɑ̙w," Xephos snapped, glaring sternly as the gun pulsed with light.

"Hey Duncan," Simon began, his voice peaked. "Maybe we don't touch his fucking gun?"

"Yep, yep, got it, come in, come in," Duncan urged, leading the group inside.

"Follow?" Xephos questioned, tucking the gun into its holster and flinching slightly at the pressure it put on his arm.

"Right," Simon beamed proudly, trailing behind Duncan as Xephos tagged along.

"Just take a seat any old place," Duncan called over his shoulder, rummaging through his cluttered belongings. "And pop that sling off, I need to get a good look at the arm."

Simon nodded, leading Xephos to an empty countertop of Duncan's and sitting him down.

"I'm gonna have to touch the arm, friend," Simon began, hesitantly reaching for the buckle of Xephos' holster.

He could feel the alien tense under his touch, the holster dropping into Xephos' lap. Simon didn't dare to touch it, allowing Xephos to move the article aside on his own. Taking a deep breath and prepping himself to possibly be smacked, Simon began to roll up Xephos' sleeve.

"U̘ppu̘ bɑ̙kʼ!" Xephos snapped painfully, sucking in air sharply through his teeth and struggling desperately to sit still. "Windi pɑ̙kɑ̙!"

"Sorry, sorry," Simon coaxed quickly, securing the sleeve before releasing Xephos' arm.

It looked awful. His arm had only darkened, the bump of his bone once again making Simon's stomach turn. He couldn't imagine the pain Xephos was in at the moment.

"Yikes," Duncan muttered, approaching with a satchel of items with a hastily scrawled plus symbol painted on the front. "That can't be good."

"He's in a lot of pain," Simon added, taking a step back.

"Alright, well, this isn't going to feel great," Duncan admitted, pulling a syringe from his bag and prepping it. "But it probably won't kill you."

"Probably?!"

"Well I don't know, he's an alien!"

"Then don't inject it into his bloody body, Duncan!"

"It'll be fine, I swear."

"Christ."

"Probably."

"Duncan!"

"No, no, it'll be fine," Duncan assured, waving off the concern and taking a step closer to Xephos.

Simon put a hand on Xephos' shoulder hesitantly, watching Xephos' expression as he inspected the needle. He didn't look exactly thrilled. His breathing seemed to quicken slightly, Simon giving his shoulder a light rub in sympathy.

"Keep his arm still," Duncan instructed, rolling up Xephos' sleeve further.

"Still," Simon instructed, Xephos shooting him a puzzled look.

"Still?"

"Still," Simon repeated, going perfectly rigid to demonstrate.

Xephos seemed to get the message.

"Alright, sorry about this in advance."

Simon noticed the way Xephos' face tensed when the needle jabbed into his arm, the fluid draining as Duncan pushed down on the plunger.

"That should take away the pain," Duncan explained, pulling his goggles down over his eyes. "I'm gonna take a crack at fusing that bone back together, but I might have to put you under for that one. It's pretty busted up."

"You're doing surgery?" Simon pressed.

"It's a fairly nasty break."

"You're not trying to pull some shady shit on me."

"Of course not. I'll fix the bone and if anything else needs fixing up I'll do that too."

"Just the arm, Duncan."

"Oh boo."

Chapter Text

Simon had been pacing anxiously for almost an hour now.

He didn't know how long it actually took to fix a broken arm, but he felt like it was a much smaller amount of time than the amount of time he had been waiting. He didn't think Duncan would do anything truly malicious - he was a bit of a softie under his slightly offputting exterior - but he did worry that Duncan would get a bit carried away and poke a little further into Xephos than he was instructed to.

Xephos. Xephos was certainly something else. Simon hadn't been able to think about anything else since Xephos had landed. How was he going to handle this? Xephos had to go home, right? How could he possibly? Simon had seen the ship, it was in tatters. So what was he supposed to do, stay with Simon forever? That wasn't an option, Simon had no idea how to speak to him or care for him - what did Xephos even eat? Hell, he must be hungry at this point, right?

Simon was shaken from his thoughts as the doors to Duncan's lab swung open, the scientist plucking off a pair of bloody gloves at Simon stared him down in concern.

"Don't look so worried," Duncan assured. "It was just a broken arm, he's not gonna die or nothin'."

"It wasn't the broken arm I thought was gonna kill him," Simon muttered, Duncan snickering lightly as he ushered Simon into the building.

Xephos was unconscious, lying across Duncan's examination table. His arm was in a thick blue cast, wrapped in a proper sling that did well to replace Xephos' discarded holster.

"For the record, it wasn't just the arm," Duncan stated pointedly, wiping down his tools. "He was dehydrated, so I've got him on a drip for now. Think's he's gone a while without food as well. When's the last time he ate?"

Simon blinked. He hadn't even considered the fact that Xephos might have been floating around in space for a while before he finally hit Earth.

"I've no idea," he mumbled, scratching his beard. "He's alright though, yeah? Nothing else?"

"Looks like the health potion covered most of it," Duncan confirmed. "Y'did your best, Simon. Saved him, probably."

"How long's he gotta be here?"

"He should be good to leave whenever he decides to wake up," Duncan shrugged. "Might do some good to get some food in him before he heads out though."

"Christ, Dunc, I don't even know what he eats."

"He's actually fairly humanoid," Duncan explained, setting his gloves aside. "You might just be able to feed him normal food. I'd start with things that are fairly plain first, though. Nothing overwhelming. Plain beef or something. Bread. Work your way up to the good stuff."

Simon nodded thoughtfully, glancing over at Xephos. It had been less than a day and he was already feeling protective. He wanted to make sure Xephos was alright, he wanted to make sure Xephos was well-cared-for. More than anything at the moment, he wanted to communicate. Xephos seemed beyond interesting: an alien crashed from an interstellar planet after being stranded in space? That was a story Simon wanted to hear.

"So, about this ship?" Duncan pressed eagerly. "D'you remember where it landed?"

"Not that far from my base, actually," Simon explained, leaning against Duncan's crafting station. "Near the desert."

"How trashed is it?"

"Well it was on fire, then it smashed into the ground, then it exploded," Simon listed pointedly. "So not exactly prime condition, I'd say."

"Think I could still scavenge some parts out of it? I'd like to take a look at that tech."

"Go for it, mate."

"Sa'i'mon?" Xephos mumbled groggily, sitting up and rubbing his head. "Kʼɑ̙ u̘pikʼ...?"

"He's up," Duncan noted, hurrying to Xephos' side to aid him. "Still, please."

Xephos took the instruction, freezing as Duncan looked him over.

"Simon, help, I don't want him to take out the IV, what do I say?"

"No clue, don't know if I can mime that one."

Simon watched in mild amusement as Duncan hurriedly gestured for Xephos to not touch the needle, Xephos giving a slow nod in response as he caught on to the statement Duncan was trying to convey. The alien eyed the IV curiously before turning his attention to his cast, frowning and furrowing his brow.

"U̘tgɑ̙," he instructed, his eyes not moving from the plaster.

"It's to keep your arm in place, friend. So it can heal."

Xephos sighed in confusion, turning to Duncan and giving him a curt nod. Duncan flashed him a quick smile and a thumbs up, Xephos returning the thumbs up blankly.

"Xephos, we're gonna head out, alright?" Simon chimed in. "Duncan, is he ready to leave?"

"Yep, just let me pop this sucker out," Duncan mused, carefully removing the needle from Xephos' arm and taping a cotton ball down in its place, one that he instructed Xephos explicitly not to touch.

"Thanks, Dunc," Simon yawned. "Pop over any time, yeah?"

"Oh, believe me, I will."

"Xephos, follow."

Xephos hopped up from the table, trailing behind the dwarf before freezing abruptly.

"Bɑ̙kʼ gu̘gu̘ndɑ̙tgu̘," he questioned in concern, immediately staring Duncan down as his face began to glow lightly with blue.

Duncan couldn't answer for a moment, simply staring ahead in awe at the luminosity of Xephos' features.

"He can glow," Duncan mumbled, a slow grin spreading across his face.

"Pretty sure he wants his gun, Dunc."

"Oh-! Right, of course, your holster," Duncan rambled, quickly grabbing the article from his countertop and handing it to Xephos.

The alien took a moment to examine it before giving a nod and slinging it over his shoulder. He turned back to Simon, raising an eyebrow and gesturing to the door. Simon jolted out of his thoughts, nodding quickly and proceeding out the door, Xephos following closely behind.

It was a fairly nice day out, Simon didn't mind travelling on foot during weather like this. While it wasn't anything particularly special, he still imagined travelling on foot would be best for Xephos. There was more to see when travelling on foot. He almost worried that it would be overwhelming for the spaceman, but Xephos seemed to be handling it well enough for the time being. His eyes flickered around curiously from thing to thing, then down to his cast, then down to Simon, then back to his surroundings.

Simon hummed quietly as they walked, Xephos watching him curiously as his song continued.

"Sa'i'mon."

"Yes, friend?"

"Bɑ̙ fɑ̙stɑ̙kʼ pu̘t kʼu̘spi gindiw ɑ̙t."

"Didn't catch that one."

Xephos thought for a moment, furrowing his brow in consideration before speaking again.

"Sa'i'mon."

"Mhm?"

"Fuend?"

Simon paused for a second in his tracks. Could Xephos not pronounce his R's? Come to think of it, he didn't think he had heard Xephos use an R sound yet."

"Friend."

He glanced over his shoulder, watching Xephos' expression struggle as he tried to replicate the sound. Though he knew it was probably fairly annoying for Xephos, it was adorable to watch him try to work it out.

"F- Fue- Hrm," Xephos hummed before clicking his tongue lightly and shaking his head.

"Try again, mate," Simon chuckled, turning his eyes back to the path. "Friend."

"Tiwu̘kʼ ɑ̙g,ɑ̙kʼ kʼɑ̙pit bin bɑ̙kʼ?" Xephos scoffed quietly, catching up with Simon as he repeated his attempts. "Fue...Fuend..."

"You'll get it."

"Hrngh."

"Alright mate, I've made you something."

Xephos raised an eyebrow, looking up at Simon. He had been sitting on his bed for a while now, picking aimlessly at his cast while Simon repeatedly urged him not to touch it. Simon, meanwhile, had been busy in the kitchen. He was never a master chef, but he had thrown together a few things for Xephos to try. They weren't exactly exciting things, but Duncan had told him to keep it simple, so he had. He didn't have much to work with, he would have to go do some harvesting soon if he was going to be feeding the both of them now.

Simon sat on the edge of the bed, breaking his loaf of bread in half and handing Xephos the larger piece. Xephos stared curiously at the morsel, poking at it and raising an eyebrow. He sniffed it, and his eyes widened.

"Nu̘mɑ̙n," he mumbled, eagerly looking up at Simon, who took a bite of his bread in demonstration.

Xephos could take a hint. Wordlessly, he began eating, his features lighting up (quite literally) as he filled his stomach.

"Enjoying it then, mate?" Simon asked with a small smile. "Good?"

"Good," Xephos moaned, polishing off his bread speedily and licking his fingers as Simon chuckled.

"Lovely, because it's easy to make. Now try this."

Xephos gratefully took the steak that was being handed to him, taking a bite of it cautiously before hurriedly scarfing it down.

"Good!"

"Right, I've got one more," Simon mused, "This one's a little bit more flavourful."

Xephos examined the object that had been handed to him: a small, yellow cube of cheese. He popped it into his mouth. He chewed. He gagged.

"Augh!" he scoffed, spitting it out into his hand. "Ɑ̙mbiw!"

"Bad?" Simon laughed.

"Bad! Tikʼɑ̙kʼ bad!"

"Most people are a fan."

"Bad, bad bad bad."

"No cheese then, big no."

"Big no," Xephos muttered, scrunching up his nose at the cheese before dropping the unwanted snack onto the stone floor in disgust.

Listening to Xephos speak English was rewarding. He probably had no idea what he was saying, but it was gratifying nonetheless. He was echoing. He was picking up the words he heard, and with time, he would learn their meaning. He already seemed to be picking things up from context. 

"We'll get some more food in you later," Simon noted, hopping off of the bed. "You're probably full now, yeah?"

That one had escaped Xephos. He cocked his head, raising an eyebrow.

"Don't worry about it, mate."

Xephos' attention turned back to his cast, clearly something he still wasn't familiar with. Simon tried to imagine how Xephos' planet would have handled a broken arm. Did they have crazy advanced super medicine? He watched as Xephos flopped backwards onto the bed with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling and furrowing his brow. Simon would have loved to know what he was thinking.

Xephos scratched lightly at his cast, a habit Simon had already discouraged multiple times.

"Xephos," Simon chided, smacking Xephos' hand lightly. "No scratching."

"No," Xephos muttered, still thinking. "No."

He seemed to have picked up the word, which didn't surprise Simon. He had used it quite a bit. That was a good start, actually. It was a simple word, and it was a word that possessed an opposite. Yes and no were good words to start with.

"Fuend," Xephos mumbled, huffing slightly as the word came out incorrectly. "Fuend."

"You'll get it," Simon assured, his amusement in the situation fading slightly as he realized how much it was frustrating the spaceman. "Keep at it."

Before Xephos could repeat himself, there was a banging at the door.

"Open up, shitlord."

Chapter Text

Simon couldn't say he was exactly enthused when he opened the door.

"Sips," he greeted dryly. "How are you?"

"I'm here too," Sjin chimed weakly.

"Sjin," Simon nodded.

"Duncan told us you have some kind of spaceman?" Sips began, choosing not to beat around the bush. "From the moon or something?"

"He's not from the moon," Simon insisted, rolling his eyes. "At least, I don't think so. Doesn't seem like he's from the moon."

"So where's he from?" Sjin asked curiously, peering over Simon's shoulder into the base.

"No clue. Space, I guess," Simon answered, shifting to continue blocking Sjin's view.

"Can we see?"

"He's not a bloody sideshow," Simon scoffed.

Simon had never been particularly fond of Sips and Sjin. They were tricky. While Sjin tended to be more of a follower than a leader, Sips was a CEO. Sips was shifty. He was the power, Sjin was the brains, if either of them could be called the brains at all. Sjin was certainly friendlier. While he could be a bit explosive at times, he was polite and helpful, not to mention creative. Sips was egotistical, a little less agreeable than one would desire, a little more pompous. They were both annoying. They were both absurd. They were both standing at his door.

"What Sips meant, I think," Sjin rejoined cautiously. "Was can we meet him? We'd really like to."

Simon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. If he said no, Sips would enter anyway, and then he would have no control over the situation. If he said yes, they were entering on his permission. He was retaining some kind of authority. Better than nothing, he supposed.

"Fine," Simon huffed. "But he doesn't speak English, and don't touch him. Plus his arm's hurt, leave that alone. And be nice."

"Of course we'll be nice," Sips assured smoothly, breezing past Simon with Sjin close behind. "We're the nicest."

Xephos sat upright abruptly as Sips and Sjin entered, watching them cautiously with a stern gaze. He moved a hand to his gun, pausing suddenly when he got a proper view of them.

"Sɑ̙wɑ̙biu̘ɑ̙?" he muttered in disbelief, raising an eyebrow.

Sjin seemed to perk up.

"Blue," Sips mumbled curiously, raising an eyebrow. "Huh."

"Are you Kitidian?" Sjin questioned immediately.

Xephos' eyes widened.

"Wit!" he beamed, grinning as he jumped to his feet. "Tɑ̙ nu̘ndit!"

"Bɑ̙ppu̘kʼ!"

"Bɑ̙kʼ kɑ̙nsu̘ i ɑ̙ppɑ̙ i! Gu̘ppɑ̙ bɑ̙kʼ ɑ̙g,ɑ̙kʼ tɑ̙ndu̘k?"

"Sjin! Ɑ̙g,ɑ̙kʼ?"

"Xephos!"

Simon suddenly felt he had something very much in common with Sips. The two of them stood aside each other, staring dumbly at the scene. Xephos and Sjin were babbling away happily, not a word of it making sense to Simon, even the slightly familiar words that Simon had heard from Xephos previously seemed to breeze past him when heard at such a rapid speed.

"Bloody hell," Simon muttered, nudging Sips. "What's going on, exactly?"

"Fuck if I know," Sips returned, blinking. "Are they communicating?"

"Obviously."

"He speaks Kitidian," Sjin interjected quickly, turning to his friends. "I speak Kitidian! I can talk to him, Sips!"

"Why the hell does Sjin speak an alien language?" Simon questioned dazedly.

"His grandpa or his dad or something was some kinda yellow alien guy. The family photos are weird as hell."

"Yeah, but why does he speak it?"

"I dunno, family passed it down?"

"Kʼɑ̙ kʼu̘ndɑ̙t tiw ɑ̙g,ɑ̙kʼ kʼif?" Xephos questioned.

"Bɑ̙kʼ fitɑ̙p tiw kʼu̘ndɑ̙t fibi."

"Iw!"

"Hah!"

Simon had mixed feelings at the moment. On one hand, he was happy that somebody could understand Xephos, and Xephos looked absolutely ecstatic about it. On the other hand, he couldn't help but feel a little jealous. He had found Xephos first. He had been working with him to learn English. Why did Sjin get to suddenly swoop in and become friends with Xephos?

"Kʼɑ̙ u̘piu̘kʼ pu̘t ɑ̙g,ɑ̙kʼi kʼu̘ɑ̙?"

"Bɑ̙ giku̘ kʼu̘p mɑ̙kʼ bɑ̙ kɑ̙spu̘k'!"

Simon didn't want to feel as annoyed as he did at the moment. He took a deep breath, choosing to focus his attention on watching Xephos' expression. He was absolutely beaming, beyond happy to be able to finally get his thoughts out. Simon tried to set his own feelings aside for the time being; Xephos was already incredibly stressed and lost here on Earth, he deserved this. He deserved a win, even if Simon couldn't be the one to provide it.

"Simon, I can write you some notecards, yeah?"

"Sorry?"

"I can write out some words for you! They might be tricky for you to read, but you could always just hold them up or something. I could write the Kitidian on one side and the English on the other!" Sjin explained. "It could help you out a bit, having yes and no and the like."

"That would be lovely, actually," Simon agreed, turning his attention back to the farmer. "Thank you Sjin."

The sun had long since set by the time Simon found himself sitting on the floor.

Xephos was sprawled across his bed sleepily, Sjin sitting against the furnace, Simon sitting against the wall. Sips had left on the claim of important business to attend to, leaving Sjin to scribble his translations on stray paper and recipe cards. His writing was thick and blocky, simple letters that one would write out so that a child may easily recognize him. His Kitidian symbols were impossible for Simon to read. They were probably scrawled quite neatly, but they weren't anything Simon could decipher. A series of swooping lines and definitive dots littered the page. The dwarf didn't even know what order to read them in.

"In my defence," Simon began pointedly. "I can speak English and Dwarvish. That's not bad. That's still two languages."

"Being bilingual is impressive enough," Sjin confirmed, setting another note aside.

"Can you speak more than one language, Xeph?"

"Xephos, kʼɑ̙ ɑ̙g,ɑ̙kʼ kʼɑ̙ndɑ̙p gindiw u̘ɑ̙ fimu̘niku̘ du̘nni,mu̘nni?" Sjin translated.

"Bɑ̙ kɑ̙nsu̘ kʼɑ̙ndɑ̙p tiɑ̙t," Xephos returned, rolling onto his back and letting his head dangle over the side of the bed, eyeing Sjin. "Pɑ̙ i gu̘gɑ̙ kɑ̙t."

"Jesus," Sjin mumbled, blinking in surprise. "Uh, yeah, he speaks three."

"Three?" Simon huffed. "Right, there goes my defence then."

"And he's learning English, that's fairly impressive," Sjin agreed, setting another card onto the pile that had been forming beside him.

Xephos eyed the cards curiously - some English-side-up, some Kitidian-side-up. His eyebrows furrowed as he observed the changes in symbols, obviously just as confused by what he didn't understand as Simon had been. Simon watched the spaceman carefully, noting the way Xephos' freckles dimmed their light as he tried to work out what he was looking at. Simon hadn't quite figured out how Xephos' glowing worked yet, but it was another mystery Simon was determined to solve. Xephos had a very expressive face full of very expressive features, features that Simon was growing to admire. He was somewhat of the lost puppy type, something Simon couldn't help but consider kind of adorable.

"Sjin, can you ask him something for me?"

"Sure," Sjin rejoined, reading over his childish printing. "What is it?"

"Can you ask him what he was before he landed here? Like, was he a pilot or something? Space fireman?"

"Xephos," Sjin began, Xephos perking up. "Simon fɑ̙stɑ̙kʼ pu̘t ni kʼɑ̙ ɑ̙g,ɑ̙kʼ finsɑ̙ tiwu̘kʼ."

"Oh!" Xephos seemed to snap to attention, grinning slightly. "Bɑ̙ tiwu̘kʼ pu̘ndi ɑ̙ ɑ̙bdi! Tiwu̘kʼ bɑ̙kʼ finsɑ̙ pu̘t wɑ̙pwu̘ u̘ppu̘ ɑ̙tu̘w pu̘t fɑ̙du̘ wibu̘ kʼif."

"He says he was a soldier and a scout," Sjin recounted, giving Xephos a smile before turning back to Simon. "In charge of finding new planets to collect resources from."

"A soldier," Simon mused, realizing that was likely why Xephos carried a gun. "Why did he crash here?"

"Pɑ̙mbindɑ̙ppu̘f kʼɑ̙k ɑ̙g,ɑ̙kʼ kɑ̙spu̘?"

Xephos' features fell, and Simon suddenly felt frantic. He shouldn't have asked that question, it seemed to be a sensitive subject; why hadn't he realized that it would be?

"Bɑ̙ppi kʼu̘nnu̘bu̘ kʼu̘btu̘," Xephos muttered, laying back down. "Bɑ̙k' tu̘ni."

"He says something hit the ship and that it was his mistake."

Simon furrowed his brow.

"Alright, that's the last of them," Sjin stated, standing up and stretching his arms over his head, his joints clicking from use after being stationary for so long. "All the basics, at least. Couldn't think of any more."

"Thank you," Simon sighed, picking up the notecards and looking them over.

Hello.

Yes.

No.

Help.

I'm hurt.

What is this called?

Sorry.

"He'll probably be able to pick up the words in time, but these'll be good enough for now," Sjin affirmed, dusting off his space suit. "I'd better get going, Sips will be mad if I'm not back soon, I'm carrying all our diamonds."

"Right, later then," Simon called after Sjin, the farmer responding with a brief farewell behind him as he exited the base.

"Gu̘," Xephos yawned, sitting up and looking down at Simon, eyeing the cards. "Sa'i'mon."

"Yeah?"

Xephos furrowed his brow, gesturing at the cards and making grabby-hands much in the way a toddler might. Simon chuckled, sitting on the end of the bed.

"Let's look over them together, yeah? Could do you some good to learn the word please."

Xephos took a handful of the cards, skimming through them curiously as he struggled to comprehend the alphabet that was being used on the English sides.

"Tisɑ̙," Xephos read aloud, leaning closer to show Simon the English side of the card.

"Help," Simon read.

"Help."

"Right! You got that one down easy." Simon praised, Xephos beaming slightly with pride despite likely not knowing a word of what the dwarf had just said.

Simon watched as Xephos took another card.

"Bɑ̙ kʼɑ̙ i it kʼu̘p."

"I don't like that."

"I don't..." Xephos paused, furrowing his brow. "Tisu̘bippu̘kʼ."

"You want me to repeat it? I don't like that."

"I don't...like that."

"Good!"

The spaceman gave another smile, swapping the cards once again.

"Kʼɑ̙t."

"Goodbye."

"Goodbye?" Xephos half-snorted, seemingly amused. "Fig pɑ̙kʼ."

His freckles glowed lightly. Simon smiled.

"Gu̘ppu̘kʼ pu̘t wippɑ̙ ɑ̙g,ɑ̙kʼ."

"Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you," Xephos echoed with a smile.

"I think you're getting the hang of this now, mate," Simon praised, flipping through the cards. "Hey, try this one, it's useful."

Xephos' eyes scanned the card.

"Kʼɑ̙ tiwit i tibɑ̙k'?"

"What is this called?"

"What is this called?"

"Great!"

This was what Simon had been looking for, something to bridge the gap, something to speed up the process, some way to communicate, even just a bit. Aside from his own wishes, Xephos seemed incredibly happy to be able to express himself in some way to Simon instead of just bumbling through Earth blindly without being able to understand a word. This was the bridge. This was the starting point.

This was a chance.

Chapter Text

"Sa'i'mon!"

Simon stirred slightly, rubbing his eyes as he rolled over in bed. There was a strange noise coming from somewhere in the base - somewhere near the door, perhaps? Almost technological in nature, which was odd enough considering the nature of Simon's living conditions. Then, the voice registered in his head.

"Xephos?!"

Another set of strange sounds, then a yelp.

"Sa'i'mon!"

"I'm coming!" Simon called back quickly, throwing himself out of bed and grabbing his sword as he rushed towards the door.

His heart was pounding when he turned the corner, Xephos' back pressed firmly against the wooden door, the low growl of monsters and the crackling haste of zombie fists on wood sounding from behind him. Simon could see a syrupy trail of dark blue liquid rolling down Xephos' forehead, a sight that was enough to send him hurtling towards the door.

"Move," he ordered quickly, grabbing Xephos by the leg and pushing him away slightly.

Xephos staggered back quickly, his gun pulsing with bright light as he trained it on the door, his breaths coming heavy. Getting a better look at him, Simon could see that his left eye was tightly shut, blood pricking at its corners. Shit. That looked bad. They would have to make another trip to Duncan. His entire form was shaking slightly, something that worried the dwarf - how long had Xephos been holding the door shut for? How long had he been fighting monsters? Had he gone outside?

There was no more time to ask questions. Readying his sword, Simon threw the door open, digging his blade into the first monster he saw. A bright beam of light shot forward just above his head, blowing a disturbingly clean hole through the head of a creeper. Simon swallowed thickly, staring in awe for a moment before risking a glance back at Xephos. The alien's gun was locked firmly on the wave of monsters, a strange sound ringing out as it charged up before firing once again. It was a powerful weapon. Simon could easily believe Xephos had been a soldier.

The dwarf whirled back around, ducking slightly to protect his head from Xephos' line of fire as he swung his sword in a frenzy. Xephos had to have gone outside, this many monsters wouldn't have just appeared at his door for no reason. He cursed quietly under his breath; what had the spaceman been thinking?

With a final blow, the last of the monsters were finished off, Xephos and Simon both panting with effort as the silence of the now-calm night enveloped them. Simon closed the door gently; he would fix the cracks tomorrow. It would hold for now.

"Did you go outside?" Simon asked when he had finally caught his breath, Xephos eyeing him in confusion.

"Bɑ̙ i kʼɑ̙ i d-"

"Did you go outside?!" Simon interrupted, his tone harsh and sudden.

It was the adrenaline, it had to be, because Simon was absolutely fuming. Xephos could have gotten hurt, didn't he know that? Why had he gone anywhere without Simon's accompaniment? He had no idea what Earth was like, he shouldn't be going out alone. Xephos seemed to catch the shift in tone, steeling slightly as his expression changed to one of cautiousness. His freckles began to glow slightly in the dim base.

"You can't just go wherever you want, you could have gotten hurt!" Simon snapped, dropping his sword as he paced anxiously. "Christ, Xephos, what were you thinking?!"

"Bɑ̙ su̘kʼu̘sinsɑ̙ kʼu̘btu̘," Xephos began, intensifying his gaze slightly and straightening his stance. "Bi u̘tɑ̙g."

"I've no idea what the hell you're saying!"

"Sa'i'mon-"

"It's Simon!"

The second the words left him, Simon realized they had been much too loud. He had just yelled at Xephos, for something as silly as pronunciation no less. Hesitantly, he glanced up to meet Xephos' gaze. The alien's features were glowing nearly bright enough to light the cave base on their own, blood still trickling downwards and spilling at his chin. He was staring down at Simon, his expression unreadable. His hands were shaking. He was shaking. Simon was shaking.

"I-I'm-" Simon stammered, the adrenaline abandoning him and leaving him with a cold pit in the middle of his stomach. "I'm sorry, that was mean."

"Simon," Xephos stated pointedly, tucking his gun back into its holster. 

Simon swallowed.

Without another word, Xephos turned on his heel, walking quietly back to his bed and sitting down on the edge, turned away from the dwarf. Simon didn't move. The pit in his stomach was turning icy, freezing his feet to the ground and chilling his entire body. He didn't expect everything with Xephos to be sunshine and roses, but he hadn't expected to blow up at the alien so soon. 

"Xephos," he began hesitantly, approaching the bed.

He was still tired; it couldn't be much later than two in the morning. The perfect storm of adrenaline and exhaustion had erupted into verbal violence against his guest, and that wasn't fair. He couldn't be blamed, right? It was circumstances. It had to be circumstances, otherwise he would have to accept that he had just completely blown up at an unsuspecting innocent.

Wordlessly, Xephos flicked a notecard at Simon from over his shoulder. Simon fumbled with the card hastily as Xephos flopped down solemnly onto his bed, pulling the sheets up to his shoulder.

Bɑ̙ tiwit giku̘.

I'm hurt.

Simon furrowed his brow, eyeing Xephos worriedly. The back of his head was sticky with blue blood, hair caked to a wound that was beginning to colour his white pillow. He wondered where else Xephos had been injured running outside alone with no armour. He still didn't understand - why had he gone outside? What had made him go outside so late at night?

"Xephos," he repeated, gently placing a hand on the alien's shoulder (one that Xephos immediately shrugged off).

Simon sighed, cupping his cheek in thought as he looked over the alien. He didn't have another health potion left. He had been rationing his remaining few on small bumps and scrapes that Xephos had picked up along the trail, but there wasn't anything left to offer the spaceman. They would need to go back to Duncan. Aside from the injuries, Simon was going to need to contact Sjin - he had to know why Xephos had gone outside. 

"Xephos, follow, please."

"No."

Simon scoffed quietly.

"Xephos. Follow."

"No."

Simon frowned, furrowing his brow and digging through the piles of cards he had left strewn about their shared living space.

How are you?

Green.

Orange.

What is that?

I'm hungry.

Name.

That was one that Simon knew how to pronounce. Tɑ̙ndu̘kʼ. He eyed the symbols carefully, working them out in his head. After a few moments of staring, he could almost figure out how they went together. He tried his hand at another card, carefully picking apart the symbols phonetically.

"S-...Sɑbtie," Simon attempted, huffing quietly in confusion.

Xephos glanced at the dwarf over his shoulder.

"Mm, no, that's...that's not right, is it," Simon struggled. "S-Sɑ̙btie? Sɑ̙bti?"

I'm sorry.

After a few moments of quiet, Xephos sat up, eyeing Simon hesitantly. He seemed reluctant to accept the apology, but at least Simon seemed to have finally pronounced it right.

"Xephos, please, follow," Simon pleaded gently.

Xephos wiped the blood from his chin and took a deep breath.

"Jesus, Simon, what time is it?" Duncan whined, rubbing his eye as he swung the door open. "What are you doing here?"

"I need help," Simon stressed quickly. "Xephos went outside, no clue what he was thinking, I need you to help him and I need to use your phone to call Sjin."

"Use my - Simon, Jesus, how early is it?"

"Please, he's bleeding."

Duncan blinked wearily, turning his attention to Xephos. As Simon had described, he was still bleeding, looking disturbingly pale and unsteady. His eye was swollen, bruised with deep blue and crusted with dried blood that had crept down his face slightly. He looked tired. Extremely tired. They both looked very, very tired.

"Oh, lord," Duncan mumbled, letting his hand slip down his cheek. "He looks terrible."

"He's got two big cuts on his head."

"I can stitch those up for you and clean him up a bit, then I can check him over for anything else. The arm looks a bit ruffled, I can reset that just to be safe if you'd like."

"Thank you," Simon breathed, hurrying Xephos inside and resting him against the countertop where he had first sat to get his injection from Duncan originally. "Where's your phone?"

"Just upstairs," Duncan called from across the room, rummaging through his chests.

Simon nodded curtly, looking over Xephos to make sure he wasn't going to collapse before hurrying up the staircase. It didn't take him long to find the phone - a surprisingly low-tech item for Duncan's standards - and grab it, flipping through the digital collection of numbers displayed on the desk below him. Sips and Sjin.

He punched in the number, nervously tangling the cord of the phone around his fingers as he waited for somebody to answer. The phone rung. And rung. And rung.

Click.

"What the fuck, Duncan?"

"Sips," Simon began quickly. "Hey, sorry, is Sjin there?"

"Simon? What the hell, man?"

"Sips, please, it's an emergency."

"He's asleep, what's going on?"

"I need him to get over to Duncan's, Xephos is hurt and I need to talk to him."

"Simon, Jesus, this can't wait until morning?"

"Sips, wake him up."

"Alright, alright, one second, Christ."

Simon paced anxiously, listening to the light shuffle on the other end of the phone. Some mumbling. A whine. Some more mumbling.

"Hello?"

"Sjin?"

"Simon? What's wrong?"

"Xephos is hurt and we need you to come translate, I need to ask him some things."

"O-Oh, right, right, okay, I can be there in...in about six minutes, is that alright?"

"That's perfect, thank you Sjin."

"Right then, see you in six."

"See you in six," Simon echoed, hanging up the phone.

There was far too much going on for such an early hour of the morning. Everything felt like it had happened just a little too quickly, and suddenly, Simon felt bad all over again. Xephos was injured and instead of helping he had yelled at him. He had done his best to fend off monsters at the door while Xephos shot the rest of them down, but even then, he had been running off of panic and adrenaline, not concern. He returned to pacing, biting his lip in thought. Xephos had been bleeding badly. Xephos had almost collapsed while they were walking to Duncan's. Xephos probably still thought Simon was mad at him. He cursed himself for being so stupid; if Xephos didn't trust him to be kind, he wouldn't tell Simon if he was hurt. Did Xephos understand the connection? Did he know that Simon was angry at him because he went outside, not because he was hurt?

"Simon! Come down here a sec!"

Simon swallowed and walked down the staircase, eyeing Duncan curiously.

"Did you call Sjin?"

"Yeah, he said he'll be here in a bit."

"Good, because he needs to help me out here," Duncan mumbled, zipping around the room from desk to desk as he jotted down notes and examined tools. "I've got questions."

"Is something wrong?" Simon pressed, turning his attention to Xephos, the spaceman still swaying slightly as he sat idle on Duncan's table.

"Aside from all the wounds and such, his temperature is a bit high, and there's a few other things I'm not so sure about. It's probably fine. Just get Sjin here to be safe."

"He's on his way - Xephos, are you feeling alright? I've got the cards somewhere here, I should probably grab them..."

Simon's voice trailed off anxiously as he rummaged through his bag, retrieving a small collection of cards he had brought with him in case Sjin was unable to come for one reason or another. He looked over them with worry written on his face before handing them off to Xephos, the alien struggling to focus his eyes on the words. His features glowed brightly.

"I don't feel well," Xephos mumbled hesitantly, Simon nodding in understanding. "I'm hu- Nnh, Simon."

Simon quickly took the card.

I'm hurt.

"I know, friend. Hold tight."

"Simon."

Simon frowned, glancing up at Xephos. The spaceman looked pained. He looked stressed. Honestly, he looked scared. Simon couldn't imagine Duncan's lab was exactly comforting.

"We're here," Sips yawned, startling Simon as he barged into the room, Sjin puttering close behind. "Bit of a hassle, but we got here."

"Why's Sips here?" Duncan asked blankly, not bothering to glance up from his reading.

"Not sure, didn't invite him." Simon muttered.

"Well, Sjin works for me," Sips explained matter-of-factly, eyeing Xephos as he spoke. "So I've gotta keep an eye on him, y'know?"

"They were probably fucking," Duncan called over his shoulder. "He probably just didn't wanna sit at home alone."

"Wouldn't you like to know if we were fucking," Sips sneered, Sjin ignoring both of them as he approached Xephos.

"Tiwik ɑ̙g,ɑ̙kʼ sɑ̙ppɑ̙?" Sjin questioned, looking over Xephos cautiously as the spaceman struggled to remain upright.

"Ɑ̙kʼu̘t," Xephos slurred quietly.

 "Bɑ̙ kɑ̙nsu̘ mɑ̙stu̘ kʼu̘p," Sjin frowned, thumbing some blood away from the alien's forehead. "So what do you guys need me to do?

Duncan shot Simon a pleading glance, silently requesting the first word. Simon gave him a reluctant nod.

"Alright, can you ask him what caused the injuries?" Duncan began. "Everything's new aside from the busted wrist."

Simon watched in concern as Sjin and Xephos babbled back and forth, gesturing to different injuries and bloodied patches littering the spaceman's tall frame. Sjin would occasionally relay a story to Lalna, who would nod and jot it down on his clipboard before returning to attentive listening. It wasn't the stories themselves that were troubling Simon - it was the fact that they felt off. A zombie clawing at his shoulder. A skeleton shooting at his leg. Being knocked over by a horde of monsters, hitting his head off the ground.

Why had he let monsters get that close to him? He was clearly experienced with a gun.

"Can you ask him about his temperature? There's actually a few readings I'd like to check, take a look at these lines here-"

Simon wasn't listening anymore, rolling over the questions in his head. This didn't make sense. Everything had happened so quickly that he hadn't been given the time to process the lack of any sort of reasoning in the situation. Xephos had gone outside - he wondered why - and had been attacked by monsters that he hadn't shot for some reason.

"Duncan, I'd really like to ask a few questions soon," Simon interrupted, not taking his eyes off of the ground as his mind whirred away.

"Right, right, sorry. Do you want privacy, or-?"

"That'd be good."

"Got it. Sips, we're gone."

Simon listened as two sets of footsteps tread up the stairs, Sjin staying quiet as he waited for Simon to begin. Finally, the dwarf looked up at Xephos.

"Why did you go outside?" he asked softly.

Xephos stiffened.