An honorable discharge.

A fucking discharge. All because of something he couldn’t control. It simply wasn’t his fault that he had gotten severe nerve damage in his left arm. Nor was it his fault that some mornings he physically couldn’t drag himself out of bed without sobbing in agony.

Price had given him.. a bittersweet goodbye, atleast. A firm hug and a small smile.

“You’ll be back in no time, Simon.”

That was four months ago.

Nothing had changed.

In fact, it had gotten worse. So, so much worse.

He hadn’t bothered to unpack his things, shoving them into the corner of his room and hardly casting another glance at it. It was insignificant. A waste of space, in his eyes.

Physical therapy hadn’t seen him at all. He simply hadn’t gone. Countless calls had been sent straight to voicemail or outright declined on the spot.

This morning wasn’t any different. He burrowed in the mess he called his bed, reaching out a trembling hand towards his phone.

Simon had.. someone to talk to, atleast. But it wasn’t the same. None of it was. Johnny hadn’t even thought to call. Simply hugging him and leaving it at that.

He had you.

“Simon! I was just about to call. How are you?”

He roughly swallowed, heaving himself upright and hunching forward like a hermit. “I’ve been.. alright. What are you up to?”

A bold faced lie.