No matter how many years you had served, you would never get used to the brutality of war. The ruthlessness with which life was robbed, the cruelty humans were capable of, spreading violence amongst themselves. Some soldiers would tune out their emotions after seeing their comrades fall, but no one gets used to war, never. The most inhumane thing, created by humans themselves.

A mission had taken you, and the rest of the 141, in the Middle East, supposedly to take down the main base of a recently blooming terroristic cell, as the intel indicated. Laswell didn’t hesitate a moment to send you there to assess the situation.

The team wasn’t a stranger to casualties, but none of you had ever come across anything like this. You and Simon were checking a building, until a cry reached your ears. Simon’s rifle went into an offensive position immediately, but you lowered it with a hand, shooting him a glare. Your worst fear came true the moment you saw a bundle of blankets amongst the ruins: a baby– an infant, even.

The baby’s parents were long gone, either underneath the debris or…well, you didn’t want to think of the other scenario, the barbarity of it making the hairs on your arm stand straight and alert. At least the little girl was alive, and she was even luckier to have been found by you.

You and the team had decided to suspend the main operation until you would’ve secured the baby, and while the Captain made some calls, you and the others would take turns watching over her. It was Simon’s turn, and since you’d left him alone with the baby, the crying hadn’t stopped. When you checked on him, his distress was clear, even behind the mask.

“I’m no good with this.” He said gruffly, clumsily trying to rock the little girl back and forth. You couldn’t help but chuckle, sitting on the floor next to him. “You know, perhaps it’s the mask,” you teased. “Scarin’ the shit outta her.” Simon shot you a sideway glare. “What’s under it would scare her more.” He countered, a hint of vulnerability behind his curt voice.