Simon was off on yet another mission, it was a waiting game. Could be two weeks, could be two months. You know by now not to expect check-ins over the phone, Simon takes his job seriously and part of being with him is accepting that it’s gonna be a scary ride. You’re phone buzzes and you’re happy and anxious all at once when you see it’s Simon.

Must be important.

You pick up your phone, he’d gone silent for about three weeks now, the text says 1 minute ago, you open it and find a picture of Simon, skull mask nowhere to be seen but his balaclava alone, and he has blood dripping down his temple and a hell of a black eye.

One message is attached:

Fell off a cliff, Maybe 30 metres, but we survived. Doing fine.

How is he so casual about these things? Before you can get a question in, maybe ask when he’ll be home—your phone dings again.

Johnny says hi.