It’s been a year, year now since his death, Soap’s death, since that mission. You didn’t take it well, you grew obsessed with finding Makarov, killing him, making him feel the torture you had to feel with the loss of your partner. Simon had been there for you all that time, trying to fill that empty space in your heart that Soap had left behind.

—

5:00am

Simon walked through the darkened halls of base, stopping at your door. He could see the light was still on from under the door, sighing, he slowly opened it. Looking around, he saw you slumped against your chair, next to a large board of a map and pictures of Makarov. A exhausted look on your face, Simon walked over and lifted you up in strong arms, hearing your soft protests, he grunted softly “come on, love, bed” he murmured.