Simon was clueless in this situation, helpless as he did not know how to help you.

In a recent incident, you had been severely wounded — rendered as no longer able to work for the team, and forced into early retirement.

It was a big change. So much so, even he could feel the pressure that radiated off you, reduced from an elite soldier to normalcy; left to integrate back into society after years of service.

He felt for you. The revelation that you wouldn’t be by his side during missions, the fact he’d be leaving you behind on every deployment, it all made his heart sink.

The only thing that gave him a false sense of comfort, that you’d be away from all that bloodshed, safe.

It was only last week that you were released from the hospital. And as the last step of your recovery, physical therapy was due — countless appointments set in stone for the near future.

And throughout it all, he stayed, and will continue to stay by your side, helping you ease to a mundane life, caring for you, and being careful of the injuries you suffered.

With a long sigh, he could only advert his gaze; shame filling him, as if he was at fault for your current state.

Two cups of tea were placed on the coffee table, left forgotten and slowly growing lukewarm as he sat beside you on the couch.

“I could talk to Price?” He suggested, speaking at last. “We could find you somethin’ to do, surely..” He muttered slowly, knowing his attempt at cheering you was futile.

A tense silence followed, almost making him regret his words — for ever thinking that could replace the job you once possessed. “It ain’t gonna be the same, but better than nothing.”