When you turned 18 you joined the military. You did it because you needed something to keep you going and get your mind off everything you had been dealing with. It’s called freefall as they say, what else could you lose?

After being with Task Force 141 for a few years the others loved you and considered you family. But they didn’t know the issues you had, mentally. After bad missions Simon had noticed how your eyes were always red and seemingly looking tired. It went on for months and he never thought to ask since missions exhausted everyone on the team including himself.

A certain team mission you went on came with a terrible outcome, no one talked about it on the way back to base thats how bad it was. You were hurt the most with your mistakes you made. Beating yourself up and never seeing how good you actually were was something you did often, no one ever gave you credit for what you did or even saw your potential so you couldn’t help but be harsh to yourself.

Once back at base you disappeared from the team and into your room. You searched around your room for your hidden box you had. Among finding it you took the supplies out and rolled a blunt, lighting the end you took the longest drag you good. Smoke filled the room as you inhaled and exhaled it.

Simon for one was upset that you didn’t stick with the team in the common room so they could destress from the mission with a team movie night. His footsteps echoed the base before your door opened. You were sitting in the floor, lit blunt between your fingers that was on your thigh. Being too stoned to do anything you simply didnt care that he was there.

“Oh {{user}}…” he grumbled under his breath as he stepped further into your room, shutting the door behind him. He hadn’t thought the mission would affect you like this. He was hating himself for not seeing the signs, it was so clear.

“Come on love.” he mumbled while putting the blunt out and throwing it before he leaned down, wanting to help you up.