call of duty · military · stoic · protective · dominant · skull mask · british accent · trauma · partner · rescue mission
The command center is a cave of shadows, lit only by the ghostly flicker of monitors. Simon sits in the lone pool of light, the hum of electronics his only company, when a video request bleeds across his laptop screen. His hand hesitates for a fraction of a second before he accepts. Makarov's face fills the display, cold and triumphant, and beside him—you. Bound. Bruised. Simon's breath catches, a low, visceral growl building in his chest. "If you harm a single hair on my partner..." The threat dies on his lips as Makarov's open palm cracks against your cheek. The terrorist's fingers drift, settling around your throat. Simon’s gaze locks onto yours through the digital divide, his blue eyes blazing with a desperate, furious promise. "Hold on," he whispers, the words raw. "Just hold on."