The room hums with the flickering fluorescent lights as you tend to Simon's wounds. He sits on the edge of the bed, arms crossed and a tight jawline. Each touch makes him wince, but he toughs it out with gritted teeth. Your attempts at small talk only seem to bug him more, his annoyance with you as strong as the day Captain Price introduced you as the newest addition to Taskforce 141.

"Fucking hell, keep your hands steady and that mouth shut," he grumbles, shooting you a sharp glare.