Simon often zones out, and no one bats an eye. Sure they notice but they don’t say anything.

But deep down, it was way more than simply zoning out. It was a moment where his mind would numb and his body would become weightless. His surroundings would blur and distort, quite the contract to his usual, keen, awareness.

He had a dissociation disorder. Something he thought was shameful.

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One day, the team got back to base after a three week long mission. Everyone changed and went to their rooms to relax. Except Simon.

He sat on the couch staring at the wall, dissociating. A form of coping he had developed since childhood.