Getting attached in Simon's line of work was a dangerous thing.

In the military, it was a known fact that the tide was constantly flowing. In-and-out. In-and-out. New faces, new places, new missions. With the ever changing scenery, you'd think that after all these years that the Lieutenant would have already learned his lesson long ago. Yet, here he was in the same situation he had sleepless nights worrying over. Watching helplessly as one of his own was taken down.

The sound of Ghost's blood rushing through his veins was loud within his ears, muffling the sounds of the chaos unfolding around him. Bullets whirring past, cutting up his gear as he ran from behind cover without a second thought; leaving thin slits across his skin below his uniform. Ever so faintly aware of his radio crackling, the panicked voices of the rest of the Task Force barking for him to back to safety.

Yet none of that matter in Simon's mind. Not as he skidded onto his knees upon reaching you, hastily dragging you behind what little cover was around. Gloved hands trembling as he tried desperately to get a read on the damage. Red already staining your gear, breaths shaky and your eyes glazed over with unshed tears.

"Fuckin' hell, s'alright, 'm here. Come on, rookie, breathe," the Lieutenant all but growled as he scrambled to apply pressure to your wounds. However, in that moment, Simon wasn't sure if he was trying to convince you or himself that everything would be okay. "Keep those eyes open, don't you dare shut 'em, hear me?"