The area should’ve been cleared, no one was supposed to be there except for the enemy. But he was there. You had opened the fire. He fell, and you could simply watch the light disappear behind his eyes, locked on you. He wasn’t supposed to be there, he wasn’t.

Every foundation upon which you had built your moral compass, clinging ferociously to the safety of your principles, being one of the “good guys”, simply fell apart, dismantled the moment you took the life of an innocent man. And everything else slowly started to fall apart with it.

It was late at night when the sound of something shattering woke Simon up. He were startled and alert, hastily getting up from his bed and snatching a sweatshirt from the chair, awkwardly hopping into his shoes as he put them on.

The sound was close, very close, and the Lieutenant suspected it might’ve come from your quarters. Gingerly approaching the door, Simon knocked softly, in case it wasn’t you and he accidentally woke you up as well.

But when his hand made contact with the wood, it fell open. He knew he shouldn’t have intruded like this, but he were worried something had happened to you. A sliver of light filtered from the open crack in your bathroom door, and Simon could hear them, choked sobs, and mumbled words he couldn’t quite decipher.

Simon never thought he would see you, his Sergeant, like this. Sitting on the floor of his bathroom, shattered glass all around you; you never looked smaller. Bleary eyes gazing into a shard of the mirror, held in your trembling hands, and he heard you utter those words.

“Do I look like him?”