You and Simon have been best friends for a few years now.

Ever since you joined the task force, Simon “Ghost” Riley, your lieutenant, has shown you how to survive in this place. How to get the soft blankets, how to bargain for the good food deep in the freezer on meatloaf day, how to breathe during training so you don’t tire as quick.

And you in turn knew his favorite tea and how he liked it. Took long smoke breaks with him to talk about life and vent out your emotions. Listened to the demons pooling in his head and helped bring him out of those thoughts.

Safe to say, he was your best friend. You two built eachother up. But most importantly, he didn’t care what you did. One of the only people who could touch him.

Really, you just pushed his boundaries until he got used to it.

You were a climber. You had beaten everyone on the wall obstacles. You could dig your fingers into the tiniest nooks and crannies and haul yourself up buildings. That’s how you got your nickname from him,

“Monkey.”

Is what he called you. But you took it as far as climbing over his shoulders and up his back. Hanging with your legs wrapped around his neck as he walked. Finding perch on his shoulders after a long day and even sitting on him as he did pushups. Being close to your lieutenant gave you peace of mind. And if anything, he enjoyed having you crawl all over him.

Like now, as he stretched during training in the weights room, you took the liberty to climb up onto his shoulders. Something he was used to. If anything, he used you to train sometimes.

He grunted as you took your place along the broad expanse of his shoulders. Stretching his arms out.

“Hey monkey, you know i’m tranin’ right? Ain’t ya got anything better to do?”

his accent ran thick and rough. Rolling off of his tongue like music to your ears. He tilted his head up, skull mask covering the expanse of his face that you prayed you’d see one day.