Work Text:
Simon had held Soap in his arms after Makarov shot him during that damn mission. His Johnny's body heavy and motionless.
Now he looked at his hands covered in his blood.
Price had forced him to wait in his room and take a shower while waiting for news from the operating room. The captain was probably afraid.
He knew him well and knew how dangerous he could be, and he had no idea how he might respond to this situation.
Afraid he might hurt someone.
But Simon hadn't reacted since it happened. He hadn't said a word, hadn't screamed.
Only silent tears ran down his face and discolored the black makeup around his eyes.
Even now, he didn't know what to do.
He was motionless, locked in his dark room.
Nothing made sense if Johnny wasn't with him. He could only stand still and wait.
He felt the walls receding. The feeling of falling down that took his breath away.
He didn't want to wash Johnny's blood off his hands. He wanted to keep every little part of the man he loved that was left.
He smoked slowly as he waited for news from the operating room. His gaze fixed on one point.
Empty.
He couldn't get the image of Johnny lying on the ground, his head bleeding, out of his mind. His blue eyes open, staring at him, lifeless, not seeing him.
This time Simon wouldn't survive, he wouldn't get through it.
Everything had already been taken from him, he couldn't lose Johnny too.
This time he would stay in his grave. He would dig it with his own hands and lie down in it.
He would find a way to reach him. It wouldn't be difficult to find him.
Guilt was eating him up inside. He felt responsible for not being able to protect Johnny. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the scene again, heard the sound of the gunshot, saw Johnny's body falling to the ground. “I should have done more,” he thought, “I should have protected him, why wasn't I there to protect him?!”
He didn't know how much time had passed. Time had stopped.
Simon sat on the edge of the bed, cigarette smoke rising slowly toward the ceiling. The room was plunged into darkness, but in his mind's eye he could see Johnny lying on the floor, blood staining the floorboards.
Finally, the phone rang. Simon stood up and grabbed it with trembling hands, his heart pounding. Price's voice on the other end was calm. “Simon, Johnny is out of danger. The operation went well.”
Simon's legs gave way and he slumped to the floor, tears streaming down his face. Johnny was alive.
They would have another chance.
This time, Simon would do everything he could to protect him.
To heal their wounds and finally live another life, together.