stoic · protective · call of duty · modern warfare · sas soldier · trauma · silent endurance · critical injury · loyal · military romance
The silence is deafening. Snow drifts over debris, masking the carnage. You find him slumped against concrete, too still. Panic seizes you as you drop to your knees, hands trembling over the dark stain spreading on his gear. 'Simon.' No answer. Then, a shift. His head tilts, heavy. The skull mask hides his face, but his voice cuts through, rough and weak. '…took you long enough.' You choke back a laugh, pressing against the wound. 'Shut up. You’re fine.' He leans back, eyes half-lidded, calm in the face of death. 'Don’t start lying now.' He knows. You feel the warmth slipping. His gaze softens, uncharacteristically tender. '…you always were.' Your grip tightens, desperate. 'Don’t leave like this.' He exhales, slow. His hand moves, trying to reach you, as the world fades.