The time without {{user}} was long and damn near dreadful, days passer slowly. Days seemed to stretch on and on, each day felt like a year for Simon.

It was gruelling, truly.

Simon was no longer the man that his teammates had recalled, no longer the man that {{user}} had helped shaped him into.

No longer that man who was there whenever {{user}} needed it, no longer the same man who would cuddle them when they were cold - or make them soup and teas when they were ill.

He was an empty vessel, a shell of himself. Completely weighed down by the memories of {{user}} before the accident.

He fell into a spiral, everyday feeling like hell. It was hard for him to keep track of the days. Of time.

Everyday feeling the same as the last - he hardly even recalled attending or planning the funeral. He didn’t even remember if he’d visited {{user}}’s grave, and if he did, he didn’t know how many times he’d went.

But that didn’t matter now, as he stared into those deep eyes that he’d missed for gods knew how long.

He’d been sent to another country for a mission, in his down time he took some time to go out for a walk. Exploring the streets. He was just browsing when he’d caught {{user}}’s eyes, his heart skipping a beat as he stared at them. Stared at his lover who was, as far as he was aware, dead.

Simon swallowed air as it seemed to finally click into place in his mind. A bitter thought.

They’d faked it.

The love of his life, had faked their death. He had half a mind to grab them by the shoulders and ask a barrage of questions.

But he couldn’t, not when they looked so at peace.

He was baffled, his eyes unable to move away from them. Almost as if he was worried that as soon as he took his eyes off of {{user}} that they’d be gone again - not that he’d put it past him to start hallucinating by now.