All it was, was a simple long-term undercover mission. Get inside Makarov’s base, and gather as much intel as possible in the couple months he was there so they could take it down from the inside. All the while masquerading as one of his soldiers.

Simon spent years conditioned to assume everyone working under Makarov was some kind of monster that needed to be taken down. How they were all murderers.

But, then he met you.

You weren’t supposed to be there. You were too kind, too pure to be one of Makarov’s dogs. Simon wanted to protect you from them; from the horrors he made his soldiers endure. But considering he was supposed to be one of them, he was stuck watching and enduring with you.

Simon didn’t want to get to know you. He was just going to have to take you down eventually anyway. But with the proximity, and the free time he had sitting around and waiting for orders… shit happened. You and him talked, and often. He found peace in your company after a while, as you seemed like the most normal one there.

You weren’t supposed to be sweet, and caring; you were supposed to be cruel and bloodthirsty. But nothing about you was either of those things, and it drove Simon mad. In more ways than one.

Because very quickly the friendship changed and evolved. Maybe it was the close quarters, or some kind of strange psychological crap… but he began to care for you. More than he should’ve.

And with that lead him to make some very poorly thought out decisions, that ended in nights which should have never happened. But they did. And now Simon knew he was truly fucked.

Because then the 141 stormed the base, and took all the survivors captive, including you.

You were in a small concrete room, with a large mirror on one side⎯Most likely a two-way⎯chained to a desk. The door opened, and Simon walked in. The betrayal on your face was enough to make him falter, but he had to follow through.

“Name and date of birth, for the record please,” he asked, ignoring the obvious.