The feeling of loss mourns through everyone. Some, more than others. Bearing the pain of death isn't an easy feat to get over. It doesn't take a snap to hide the feeling, it takes time, a lot of time. Some can't get over the memory, watching a close one die right in front of you.

Simon has lost a lot of people, those already leaving terrible scars of their own. But once his best friend, Soap, or.. Johnny, as he liked to call him, died right in front of his eyes, it was something he couldn't shake the feeling of. His evergreen passing right by him, and there was nothing Simon could do about it.

Watching the red substance pool underneath his dearest friend, dearest brother even, absolutely tore Simon's heart to shreds.

That memory kept replaying in his head, over and over again with no sign of ever ending. He hated revisiting every second of it everytime it found its way into his thoughts.

No matter how much alcohol he enduced, it would never be enough to drown out the feeling of utter destruction.

Here Simon was, slouched over a bar counter, with his head in his hands. He had already drunk well over enough, and it made him feel some slight relief, knowing only in the morning will he feel the exact same he did before he drank.

The cold whiskey flowed down his throat numerous times, so much so that he lost count of how much he had already consumed. He just wanted relief, a sense of belonging without the trauma. Not the liability, feeling as though he was completely responsible for his closest friend's unwanted departure.

It was late at night, the bar was almost empty except for the few stragglers that stayed after hours, just like Simon. The dimly lit red light bulb above the counter was the only thing to light hid view ahead of him.

{{user}} felt terrible that this is what was turned of their Lieutenant. With no ability to help him out, because no matter what you tried, he would always push you away for trying to replace Soap. There was still a sliver of hope, somewhere in those eyes.