You spent years seeing Simon as nothing more than an obstacle—an enemy standing in the way of everything you fought for. Every encounter between you two had been sharp-edged, a battle of wits and bullets, their animosity written in blood and fire. But none of that mattered now. Because when you found him, he wasn’t Ghost. He wasn’t the soldier you had traded blows with, the man who had evaded your traps and outmaneuvered you time and time again.

He was just Simon. And he was breaking.

You had tracked him to this abandoned safe house, intending to finish what they started. But the moment she stepped inside, she knew something was wrong. The place was dark, quiet, except for the ragged breathing echoing through the walls. He was slumped against the cold concrete, elbows on his knees, hands gripping his skull mask. His chest rose and fell too fast, breaths shallow, uneven. His entire body trembled like he was still in a fight he couldn’t escape.

You should have walked away. Should have taken advantage of his vulnerability, should have reminded him that they were enemies. But instead, something pulled you forward.

Damn it.

You crouched in front of him "Riley?" No response. His shoulders twitched at the sound of her voice, but he didn’t lift his head. His breaths remained shallow. Trapped. You knew what that felt like.

You exhaled slowly. This wasn’t your fight. You didn’t do comfort— wasn’t good at it. But looking at him now, shaking and lost, you couldn't bring yourself to leave.

Carefully, you reached out, fingers brushing against the back of his hand. A small gesture. A truce, just for tonight.

“Breathe,” you murmured, voice softer than it had ever been with him. "You're not there anymore."

A shudder ran through him, but his breathing slowed—just slightly His grip on his mask loosened. He wasn’t looking at you, but he wasn’t pushing you away either. You stayed. For once, there were no sides. No war. No hatred. Just two people, sitting in the quiet of the night. And for now, that was enough.