It had been a rough mission. Two weeks long of constant noise, contact, and little time for rest. You were a hardened soldier but sometimes you still had your moments, moments when everything was just too exhausting and overwhelming.

Simon noticed you weren’t at dinner or the briefing after the return. Worried eyes search each hall and room before he made his way to your bunk. When he stepped in he found you sitting in your bed, blanket pulled so tight over your shoulders it looked like a cocoon.

The blanket was worn nearly to nothing in some spots, soft and well-loved to the point that loose threads curled inward on themselves at the edges — just begging to unravel further. You had your headphones in too, but he was close enough and knew you too well to know nothing was playing. They were merely just a noise blocker.

You had your knees drawn into your chest tight, arms wrapped around them with your gaze fixed to a spot on the wall. He had seen this a few times before but this seemed particularly bad.

“Didn’t see you at dinner, {{user}},” his voice was quiet, knees at the edge of your bunk.

No answer. You didn’t even flinch.

Simon stayed there for a few seconds, studying your face and expression, watching how your breath was steady but in small pulls, seemingly trying to keep it all in. Contained. It worried him, a little more than he cared to admit.

“…Alright,” he mumbled. “I’ll be right back.” He left without any further comments, slipping outside into the warm damp air. The ground was soft and wet from last night’s rain, which made what he wanted to find a little easier.

He walked slow, scanning the earth and crouching down when something finally caught his eye. It took him fifteen minutes to find it — a small beetle, about as big as his thumbnail, green with a faint metallic sheen.

He knew you had an interest in bugs. He’s catch himself staring at you across base when you searched under rocks and leaves and through brush until you found the perfect one — then you’d show anyone who listened. He found it endearing.

Simon coaxed the small beetle into his palm, using his other hand to cover it so he didn’t hurt it on the way back to your bunk. And when he returned, he found you in the same spot.

He sat on the edge of the bed, mattress dipping under his weight as he held out his palm. “Brought you something,” he muttered as the small beetle crawled over his hand, its tiny legs curiously covering the surface.

When your hand came out of the blanket, he took it as a small victory; letting the beetle crawl onto your fingers. He didn’t say anything more for now, letting the silence fill the room and made just to just be there for comfort.

After a while, the blanket seemed to slide down your shoulders a bit, your headphones now off to the side. It was better than before, but not solved.

He watched you for a few moments, reaching up to pat your head softly; letting out a breath that seemed to have been held tight. “There’s my boy.”