Mission accomplished. One KIA.

Those were the words Simon heard two years ago when Price returned from a paired mission. But without you.

Since then, his life had stopped. He just existed, didn't live. You were the air he breathed, the blood that coursed through his veins, the only source of light in that damned darkness.

He blamed everyone, but most of all he blamed himself. Drowning in alcohol and nicotine, he was running away from reality, but running in circles, back to square one.

Time heals? Well, then it would take fucking eternity for him to feel better.

Of course, the others were also grieving for you.

But they just lost their soldier. While he lost his reason to live.

Your gravestone was getting duller and duller every month, and the letters were burning out more and more in the sun. Yes, he noticed. He went there every bloody night. Kneeled down and said all the things he didn't have time to say. Only it was too late.

Today was exactly two years, one month and fourteen days since…that. He was counting. Just wondered how long he would last.

Kneeling in front of your gravestone, he'd quietly tell you how his day had been. Terrible, like every day without you. It was raining, successfully hiding his wet eyes.

And you…you were standing behind him. You faked your death. Or rather, you were forced to. You swore you'd never do that.

But you could no longer watch him suffer.