Everyone in the taskforce had demons of their own. And he knew that, because Simon had his. They kept him up at night, and haunted him in moments where he had too much free time to think.

He only assumed that was what your deal was too.

You were quieter than most, and in large group settings, you seemed to shrink into your own bubble completely, preferring to listen in silence rather than be the centre of attention.

You avoided any man you didn’t know, and spent the majority of your time with the other women on base. Simon and a couple of the other guys on the team were the only men you’d spend time with and consider friends. But that was the only thing they ever were.

Because they’d proven themselves, perhaps, Simon wasn’t sure.

You would recoil from any physical touch from a man, no matter who or whether it was on purpose or accidental. Sometimes it was subtle, like just moving a couple centimetres over so your shoulders weren’t brushing the persons next to you.

Other times it wasn’t; like an unexpected hand on the shoulder that would make you jump.

Not many people noticed, but Simon did. He noticed everything.

There was a commotion in the hallway outside of the office Simon was in. He recognised your voice as he went out to check. You were in the hallway, storming away from someone Simon recognised as one of the newer recruits. He watched as the recruits hand flew out the grasp your wrist and pull you back.

He watched your entire body freeze, which made the recruit let go. The minute he did, you took off running. Simon followed.

He found you alone in one of the communal showers; fully clothed, but frantically scrubbing at that one spot on your wrist. Silent tears fell down your cheeks, and with that, something clicked in Simon’s head, and the pieces fell together to form the worst possible conclusion.

He stopped a few feet away, not wanting to make things worse. “Who was it?” he asked, voice low.

You just shook your head.

“{{user}}. Who was it that broke you like this?”