Title: Start of the Healing Process

Summary: Simon has always kept his grief and pain to himself. Had so for years. Yet, somehow, Lynus was able to make him reveal his emotions in one conversation.

Pairings: None, but friendship and comfort between Simon and Lynus

Warnings: Bit of a heavy subject matter, especially since it touches on the topic of Simon's past. Also mild spoilers for those who haven't played or finished the game

AN: And another oneshot. A bit of angst and a bit of fluff, which Simon finally expressing his pain and Lynus being the one to comfort him. Finally. Anyway, I do hope you enjoy~

"Lynus? Can I talk to you?"

It was just sheer instinct that caused Simon to pull his gaze away from the book he was skimming and over to the door of the infirmary's office. It wasn't uncommon for someone to pop their head into the office in search for Lynus.

And it was more common for someone to seek out the orange-haired medic from Lagaard to simply speak with him. Rather, seek counsel from him.

"Of course." The smile that Lynus wore of his lips was his usual patient, caring smile. He placed his hands upon his desk and pushed himself to his feet. He immediately made his way over to the blond that had called for his attention and they stepped out of the room.

As the two moved to stand together in the corner of the infirmary, in front of the glass windows of the office, Simon tried to turn his focus back to his book. But he couldn't help but glance at the two from the corner of his eye every now and again.

He wasn't able to hear what they were saying, and it truly wasn't his business, he just knew that Lynus was comforting or reassuring the other. Due to how he gently pat his arm or reach up to pat down his blond hair, earning a tearful look of relief.

Whenever Simon sighted the blond alchemist from Lynus' guild, his mind automatically shifted toward Arthur. While the two blonds were so different in personality, that did little to halt the lamentation he felt. If only Villard had told him that he could bring along anyone he wished to join the expedition. Arthur would have gotten along well with many of the others under the roof of the Sanctuary.

And in all honesty, that boy needed time with those similar to his own age.

He was safe with Raquna and her family. Same with Ricky. He knew that the redheaded protector would care for them well.

There was still that voice of doubt in the back of his mind. If something happened were to happen to him…

He was the only family he had left.

Simon shook his head abruptly and returned to his task of sorting and shelving their medical books. He tried not to dwell too long on what had occurred in Gotham, his hometown. His birth place. The pain was still too raw, all these years later. How long had it been? Ten, no twelve years now?

Time certainly moves on, doesn't it?

As Simon shelved another book, he glanced up to witness Magnus give Lynus a quick hug before scurrying away. Lynus stood still for a moment, watching until the blond left his sight before he made his way back into the office. Completely unperturbed by their conversation.

It…it must be nice to be able to seek counsel from another. Unconditional support and reassurance. It was no wonder that Lynus was often sought out to simply speak to.

Not that Simon could do such a thing. His secrets, his pains were far too old now.

"Is everything all right?" Lynus suddenly asked him as he closed the door to his office out of habit. That was a question Simon had heard multiple times, though usually directed toward others.

"Hm? Why do you ask?"

Lynus sat down on the edge of his chair, leaned forward and folded his arms atop of his desk. Clearly giving him his full attention. "I sense a hint of pained nostalgia from you."

Sensed? Ah, right; he was an empath. For some reason he kept forgetting. Most likely due to him having little experience with empaths.

"Magnus just reminds me of someone," he decided to reveal, keeping his tone passive and idle. "Someone I wished I had brought along on this expedition."

Lynus granted him a sympathetic look. "I assume Villard just so happened to forget to tell you they were welcomed?"

"Yes, and I curse that man every day."

That earned him a light laugh from Lynus and Simon inwardly congratulated himself from expertly dodging his inquiry into his wellbeing. Yet, the amusement soon faded from Lynus' expression as he focused those far too knowing eyes upon him once more.

"The two of you quite close?" It was structured as a question, but to Simon it felt like an observation.

Simon turned his attention back to the bookcase. "He's like a brother to me, I suppose."

"He's quite special, then?"

Special? Maybe. Important? Seemed more plausible. After all, "he was the only family I have left."

Simon immediately cursed himself for allowing those words to escape his lips. He furrowed his brow, angry at himself as he glanced over his shoulder to Lynus. Once again finding the other medic regarding him far too gently than anyone should. "Sorry, ignore that."

"Actually, I don't think I will."

Simon sighed at the sheer defiance in Lynus' voice. He should have known. "It's not important."

Lynus shook his head resolutely as he pushed away from his desk and took to his feet. "It must be if you're still in agony about it."

Agony?

"It really is nothing. It happened twelve years ago, anyway," Simon stated.

"And?"

"And that's too long ago to dwell on it." He just needed to get over it. Just get over it.

"Grief and mourning don't have a time limit."

Simon uttered another sigh as he deposited the book in his hands upon the book shelf and finally turned to face the other medic. Lynus stood by his desk, his attention (always so gentle and imploring) directed toward him.

"You're not going to stop until I tell you, are you?"

Lynus gave him a small smile. "I can't force you to do anything. But I would like to know. I would like to hear what you have to say. Especially since it weighs so heavily upon your heart."

The sincerity in Lynus' voice and his eyes caused Simon's determination to keep all his burdens to himself to waiver. Yet, he also hesitated. To talk, to speak about what he felt, what he had felt for a very long time just wasn't…right.

"Simon." Lynus walked straight over to him, stood before him as he continued to look so…unfairly gentle and sincere. He then reached up and framed Simon's face with his hands, startling him greatly as he looked him straight into his eyes. "You are allowed to feel. And you're allowed to express it."

…Express himself? Make himself vulnerable? He…he couldn't do that. That wasn't right. He wasn't allowed to…

"Tell me," Lynus implored. "Everyone, everything else is fine. It's your turn. It's your turn to grieve."

He…he didn't truly know what happened next. Just that he had his arms around Lynus' neck in an embrace as he mumbled incoherently into his shoulder. Words of memories just poured from his lips.

A blinding flash of light, briefly illuminating the faces of his family members. Unknowing to him, the last time he would ever see their faces. As the light faded, a sound that could not be described any other way than absolutely brutal rattled their surroundings. Shook the walls, shattered the windows, buckled the floors.

Memories after that sound were blurry at best, due to how quickly everything had occurred. He remembered distinctly, however, the look of absolute horror on his father's face. He had been the one who registered before all else that something horrifying was occurring. And it was his instinct, the last act he would ever commit, to attempt to shield his family.

Simon credited his father's actions to saving his life. He had been the closest to his father as they sat at that dinner table. He was the one his father instinctively turned to in a desperate attempt to shield.

His father had saved his life. But, in the minutes and seconds afterwards, as dust filled his nose and lungs, as a deep ringing rung through his head, as he unwittingly pushed the dead body of his father away from him, he wished he hadn't been saved.

Especially…especially since he was all that was left. Out of everyone in that house, out of his stronger siblings, of his witty mother, of his powerful father…why did he live? Why was he cursed to live?

He didn't have time to mourn back then. Not with the constantly rumblings, the licking of flames from destroyed homes, not from the deafening shrieks of pain and devastation around him.

It was then, as he sat atop of the wreckage that was once his home, did he hear another voice. A cry. A child's frightening cry.

Something in that cry urged Simon to step away from his father's body. To stumble over the broken brick of mortar of his home. And toward a young boy, just a child. Blond hair caked with blood, standing amongst the rubble of a place that was likely his home, crying into his hands.

A survivor. Like him, the only one left.

He couldn't mourn or grieve in front of Arthur. It would scare him, more than he already was. And he couldn't in front of others, for they would see him weak. He wasn't weak, they would constantly tell him. He was strong. Pain, fear, suffering; they were all pointless emotions. He needed to look forward.

Keep looking forward…

He tried. He truly did. But his mind, his heart would betray him. Memories, pain of what happened. Would always return. And he would always push them back. Nothing he could do about it now. It was an act of nature, as he was told.

Until he learnt that it wasn't.

Yggdrasil Project. Gungnir. Scientists from hundreds of years ago deciding that it was perfectly acceptable that people could be in the way, could die. Someone or something had activated the Gungnir of Gotham. Without a care, seemingly.

And destroyed everything with one powerful blast.

It wasn't an accident. The deaths of thousands weren't a mistake. It was on purpose.

All on purpose.

When he learnt that, when he heard it from both the machine and the being who aligned herself with those responsible, he had wanted to scream. He wanted to rant and rave. To let out all of his pent-up emotions there and then.

But he couldn't. He wasn't allowed to. His feelings of discovering the truth did not matter. Especially when there was a possibility that it could happen to Etria.

No time to mourn. No time to grieve. He had a job to do.

He didn't want to hate Ricky after that. He truly didn't. It…wasn't her fault. But she…she had tried to do the same to Etria. After she got her memories back, she kept pushing forward with the mission. She kept trying…

How could he trust her after that?

He had to. He wasn't allowed to feel that way. It was about Ricky. It was about Etria. It was about the Forest Folk.

It was about everyone and everything else. Never him. Never his feelings. Never his thoughts.

Everyone else…

Simon truly didn't know when he started to cry, to bawl his eyes out into Lynus' shoulder. He didn't know when the other medic had guided him over to the couch under the window. He didn't know when he moved to cry into Lynus' chest as he ran his fingers comfortingly through his hair.

"Your pain and grief, your resentment and anger; they're all important. They're all valid. Just like you are."

Simon felt truly exhausted as he rested his head upon Lynus' shoulder, his glasses having gone AWOL at some point. His eyes burned from the tears, his throat felt dry, and he felt boneless and tired. He felt foolish.

And yet…

"I can't take away your pain, though I wish I could," Lynus continued. "But I can tell you, I can promise you that by accepting your grief, by accepting your pain as real and valid, then your path forward will become easier. And you won't have to do it alone. You are surrounded by others who care for you very much. Who will drop whatever they're doing to help you. When they reach out to you, all I ask is that you meet them half way."

He felt…he felt comforted. He couldn't recall a time where he felt such warmth. Been so many years.

Simon knew that his painful memories weren't going to leave him. The pain of his heart when he recalled them would always, always be there. It was going to take more than one conversation to help. But the warmth of someone simply validating his feelings, encouraging him to express himself helped with some of that pain.

Not all of it, but some.

And what was enough for now.

"Thank you for telling me everything." Again, Lynus sounded so sincere as he continued his comfort, where Simon himself felt too tired to say anything more. "Needless to say; I won't tell anyone. It's not my place to say. But I do hope that one day, you'll tell this story to another and you allow them to give you the comfort you deserve."

Tell another? He wasn't sure. Would there truly be a day where he would be able to speak about his past freely? To willingly reveal his pain? It seemed so implausible. And yet, he didn't think he'd tell anyone anything, so today was certainly a surprise.

Maybe…Maybe Lindis?

"Until then, you can always speak to me," Lynus continued further. "You can't hide anything from me; I will find you and I will comfort you."

Simon smiled tiredly to himself. That sounded close to a threat, but one he didn't exactly mind.