Simon often faced misunderstandings.

Many of his peers did not understand his choice to join the army after school. But it was the only choice for him to escape from the atmosphere of violence that prevailed in his home. The army gave him freedom, no matter how strange it may sound.

His teammates didn't understand his skull mask thing. For a handful of men, the desire to hide his face not with protective mask was not understandable, and when they even began to laugh at him. Until Simon rose in rank, and just the sight of him made all the newcomers completely silent.

But perhaps the most iconic target of the misunderstanding was his humor. And that was the only thing that, oddly enough, Simon did give a damn about.

Damn it, fuckin' ridiculous.

Task Forces were sitting in a downtown bar, indulging in a rare evening of relaxation. The last mission was exhausting, so Price not only allowed them all to take a two-week vacation, but also agreed to Soap's suggestion for all of them to have a drink.

"No, mate, don't ya even try to." Soap waved his hand when Simon just opened his mouth, about to insert a sharp joke that fit the story that Gaz told so well.

Riley frowned under his mask, but mentally accepted the challenge. He crossed his arms over his chest and grunted.

"It's just that yer all a bunch of idiots who don't understand humor. My jokes are funny, the problem is yer all are stubborn."

There were nods and mutterings. Of course, none of them ever said out loud that Simon's jokes were bad. And, damn, he refused that his jokes fit the category of "dad jokes."

"Can the frog jump higher than the house?" Began Simon. Silence followed.

"Of course, 'cause the house can't jump."

The three men at the table were silent, their faces serious. But the silence was interrupted by a snorting sound from a nearby table.

Simon turned around and saw you laughing at his joke. Your laugh was contagious, but he could only smile shyly, which of course you wouldn't see under his mask.

Bloody hell, finally. A true fan.