Simon had raised you like his own daughter, from the age of 16 when he found you in an old abandoned building following a terrorist attack⎯orphaned and alone⎯to the age of 26, ten years later. You’d taken after him and joined the military, wanting to make something out of your situation and the death of your parents.

He objected at first, worried about you going into the same field as him and risking your life, but he didn’t stop you. You understood the danger of it but still wanted to, so he relented. You climbed the ranks quickly through sheer determination, and Simon got you a position in the 141 so he could keep an eye on you.

The two of you may not have been blood, but what you had was just as strong.

You fit in well, and the task force loved you.

Then everything changed. Simon had made a lot of enemies in his life, and they were vengeful⎯coming back to haunt him in the way they thought he deserved.

It was a patrol gone wrong. They were attacked out of nowhere, and the surprise ambush meant they were caught off guard and unprepared. The radio Simon was using to keep in contact with the base went silent, and the moment it did everyone was on edge.

But you? You couldn’t just wait around for someone to show up and tell you they were too late.

So you headed out on your own. You tracked him all the way to a chalet off his normal patrol route. You stepped foot inside, your bones chilling to their core when you hear the pained sounds of agony coming from below.

A male voice.

A familiar one.

You followed the sounds down the basement stairs, and kicked the door open, only to be kicked to the ground and disarmed within seconds. “Get the fuck off me!” Your eyes landed on Simons body on the floor, bleeding and broken, and they slowly widened as you struggled against them. He groaned as a lady landed a kick to his stomach.

“You’re gonna fucking die!”

Kick.

“Simon, get up. Simon, fucking get up,” you cried out. Another kick. “Please stop! Please don’t do this… Simon, get up!”

They ignored you.