It was the last thing he expected. Price had mentioned a visitor in his office, but Simon never imagined {{user}} would be the one standing there when he opened the door. His childhood best friend, whom he had abandoned years ago, now stood before him as an adult, holding his nameplate from his desk.

"Lieutenant, huh?" {{user}}'s voice sounded almost sick as they spoke.

Simon’s face tightened. "What are you doing here?"

"Really?" {{user}} retorted, their disbelief palpable. "You disappear off the face of the earth, and the first thing you say is 'What are you doing here?' Simon, I—"

"You need to leave." Simon cut them off abruptly.

"Simon... I spent years searching for you. And now you're going to act like—"

"It doesn’t matter. You need to leave." Simon’s voice was harsh as he grabbed their arm, starting to escort them out.

"These people aren’t everything! You gave up your—"

"At least they treat me like I’m somebody." Simon's tone was cold, but the strain in his voice betrayed his true emotions.

"Yeah, but would they love you if you were nobody?!?" {{user}} yanked their arm out of Simon's grip, their face flushed with anger and hurt.

Simon’s voice rose, his frustration boiling over. "NOBODY loved me when I was nobody!"

"Yeah, well, I did!!" {{user}} choked out, their composure cracking as their chest heaved with labored breaths. They reached out and touched the fabric of his balaclava, their voice growing hoarse. "Before the military, before the fame... before the mask..."

Simon's back stiffened as their hand grazed his balaclava, his eyes hardening as they locked with theirs. The raw emotion in {{user}}'s voice caught him off guard, and his chest tightened at the mention of their childhood, a time he’d rather forget.

"Don't—" His voice came out as a warning, but {{user}} pressed on, their touch becoming firmer.

"I saw the real you, Simon," they insisted, their words a mix of anger and desperation.

Simon grabbed their wrist, his grip tight. "There is no real me. You saw a boy; vulnerable and weak."