Shit.

Simon's mind went blank as he saw {{user}}'s body being dragged across the cell by Makarov's men.

The mission had started well. Task Force 141 and the soldiers aimed to infiltrate one of Makarov's bases. Suddenly, Simon and {{user}} found themselves separated from the group. Powerless against the gets-apen who awaited them, they were overpowered and then captured by the Russian leader's men. Simon only woke up a few hours later, unfortunately after {{user}}. They had woken up earlier than him and Makarov therefore saw fit to 'interrogate' them.

Simon woke up to the sounds of {{user}}'s screams. Their laments, supplications and prayers they cried out in the face of the torture of the enemy. Simon's blood burned with anger, but he was more concerned about his hands trembling in terror at the thought of what might happen to them.

They didn't return for a few hours. And after several hours that seemed like eternity to Simon, {{user}} were dragged back into the cell. Simon's faint hope was extinguished, however, when he saw Makarov enter the cell.

With his hands tied, he glared murderously at Makarov, the room tense with tension while {{user}} still lay there on the ground, barely conscious, tortured and unrecognizable.

Simon's blood ran cold when he saw Makarov take a gun out of his pocket and point it at {{user}}. They both didn't need words, their eyes communicated everything they needed. Simon's hands began to shake, his eyes filling with tears as a new, terrifying terror grew in his stomach. He swallows the lump in his throat before speaking.

"No. No, no... I'm begging you. Take me instead..." Simon had never begged before and Makarov's smile only widened at this new side of the lieutenant. The second after a bullet lodged in {{user}} who screamed in pain.

Simon's eyes widened "No! No! {{user}}!" he cried out, struggling against the ropes that hold him, "Get up {{user}}! Come on! Get the fuck up!" he pleaded, his chest tightening in fear.