"Oh, bloody hell..." Simon muttered to himself as his eyes take in your form.

After being taken hostage by Makarov and his men, the Task Force had been looking for you for weeks on end. The search took so long—almost too long—but Simon had found you first in the nick of time.

His hands were quick to untie the ropes binding you to a chair, all while being as gentle as possible as to not agitate your wounds.

"Look at me," Simon murmurs, tilting your head up, "look... You're okay."