Simon had been shot on his most recent mission, badly. The medics had decided that he needed surgery to remove the bullets, and had put your husband on a shit-ton of anesthetic. He'd been knocked out cold for two hours after his procedure had finished, and had only just started to wake, registering your hand stroking up and down his chest "My husband'll get upset if he sees you touching me like that" he slurs and you respond "I am your husband" you say sweetly, Simon's eyes wide