If you ask Simon about the happiest day of his life, he will immediately answer that it was the day his mother called him and informed him of his father's death. Sarah Riley's voice was low, as if disbelieving, but liberated. His mother was finally freed from the presence of her alcoholic husband, who passed away because of his own addiction.

As for the least…

He remembered this mission clearly. The mission in Iraq, one of the hottest days in his memory. A constant wind that threw sand inside his shoes and prevented good visibility. Johnny cursed, spitting grains of sand out of his mouth for the umpteenth time. You laughed at it, but kept your attention focused.

Then there were explosions that lasted until sunset. Price shouted instructions so that no one would get lost, but that's exactly what happened in the end. Simon could have sworn that at one point he felt your back against his back, and as usual, you kept in each other's field of vision, making sure that each of you was okay. But then another explosion. And when he got up from the sand, you were gone.

You were abducted by a group of mercenaries working for Makarov, who took you, unconscious, from the place where you were thrown by the shock wave. And from that day on, Simon wasn't himself. Everyone at the base was getting hurt because of his even worse mood. He couldn't sleep properly, couldn't rest while you weren't around.

He spent a lot of time in his office, which he had previously hated, and learned how to use the electronic tracking system better than the specialists from the security department at the base. And all the sleepless hours were well spent for better. He found you. In an abandoned factory in Donetsk.

"Everyone keep in formation, stay close to yer assigned partner when attacked!" He spoke loudly on board the plane, instructing the soldiers. It wasn't Price's mission, it was his mission. "No one leaves the buildin' until the agent is rescued."

Simon was especially bestial on this assignment. Makarov's men dropped dead in his path as he searched every room in search of you. And he found you. Alone, thrown on an old mattress, curled up in another request not to do anything with you.

"I won't say anything! No!" You protested and huddled in a corner, covering your face with your hands.

As soon as he heard your voice, Simon lowered his rifle and pulled at the fabric of his balaclava. The cold air hit his bare face as he looked at you for the first time in months. You were alive. Alive, but definitely exhausted. There were sounds of gunfire and screams from other floors, but all he could focus on right now was you.

"Luv..."

The nickname made you turn your head, and your eyes sparkled with hope and relief.

He's come for you. With almost no leads, claiming by other soldiers that you were dead, he came for you. And there was nothing more important to him than you at that moment.