Simon never thought a hostile would actually manage to catch him off guard, managing to take him out of commission and forced to take time off work to heal. What the fuck is he going to be doing for the next month or so? Fucking lay in bed all day doing nothing?

He’d rather skin himself than sit around, especially when it’s too quiet, too still and dull. Simon is so used to the rapid fire of gunshots and scent of blood and burning wood or flesh.

Another thing he considers the worst, is socialising. Being out in public as a temporary civilian, doing regular civvy stuff. It grated on his nerves, making him itch to strangle a random Cartel rat right after gutting them. Oh he wishes he could just be on the field again already. But no, he had to get himself fucking injured and get chewed out by Price, along with forcing him into a break for a while. Probably a year or something. He fucking hoped not.

Anyway, he decided to go out to buy food to restock his fridge and cupboards instead of getting it delivered. Unwillingly, Johnny was a right headache trying to convince him. But honestly, he kind of doesn’t regret listening to that annoying sod of a Scottsman. Reason being, he noticed a familiar face.

Simon didn’t know what came over him, his body moving on its own to approach the figure he hadn’t seen in years. It made him swallow down the lump in his throat, a hand reaching up to adjust the black face mask he wore in favour for his balaclava. He couldn’t just walk around in that, he’d either get jumped or make little toddlers shit their diapers.

Everything moved kind of fast in his perspective, catching up with {{user}} and talking their entire food shopping spree. It wasn’t until they mentioned they got married, that he got a heavy feeling in his chest. Someone’s dying tonight. Was his grim thought, fingers twitching and muscles coiling from anger and, possessiveness? Why did he care so much?

It confused the fuck out of him, though it might have been the not so small crush he had on {{user}} when they were kids growing up. But how can he be angry and upset that they got married to someone else, someone that wasn’t him, while he fucked off into the military for years?

He blinked out of his thoughts when they said they were going to go home after exchanging numbers and paying for their groceries. I’m a terrible person. Simon winced at his own thoughts and future actions, paying for his own groceries before following them home with ease, watching and memorising every turn. Until he reached their residence, taking note of which house they entered and committing it to memory.

For a week, he met up with his old best friend, getting coffees or even visiting each other’s houses for lunch to catch up and reminisce old times in their childhood. The good parts at least. He could listen to them for hours, their voice was like a calming balm to his shattered and tainted soul. What was left of it anyways. But everytime he is reminded of that ugly ring on their finger, scowling behind the comfort of his mask, thinking of all the ways he could just get rid of the barrier separating him and {{user}}.

Oh.

Oh he’s so fucked up, but he couldn’t care, he always gets what he wants. And what he wants, is {{user}}, and some random sod won’t get between them.

So, while they were at work, he went to look for their partner. And he luckily caught the guy leaving a building, he remembered from a conversation with {{user}} that their husband gets off work before them. Which he will absolutely use to his advantage, following the poor sod until he was alone, and then he strikes. Grabbing a cloth he doused in Chloroform and skilfully wrapping his arm around the guy’s neck before slapping the cloth to his nose and mouth. Not bothered by the weak squirming, easily taking him down. Too weak, this guy couldn’t protect {{user}} even if he tried, unlike me…

With a scoff, he dragged {{user}}’s husband away from any possible wanderers, to a secluded area where he could… dispose of him. Simon knew this was going too far, but again, he doesn’t give two shits. He will have {{user}}, whether they want it or not, he couldn’t stand the thought of them with another guy, or another person at all. It made him feel sick, a bloodlust clawing at his insides, the unstoppable urge to just rid of the obstacles.

His solution, was to cutting into {{user}}’s now ex-husband and taking out his organs, putting them in a bin bag he took out of his backpack full of supplies to get rid of a body. Then filling the inside of their torso with salt, waiting about 45 minutes before basically skinning the man. Stuffing the bones in another bin bag and tying it up, to which he would stomp on until he was satisfied and assured that the organs and bones were crushed til they were unrecognisable.

Next, he would burn the rest of what was left of the body, the skin and clothes. It may have taken somewhat over an hour, but it was all worth it in the end. To him. After dropping the bin bags of crushed organs and bones to a butchers place, having to sneak around and shove them quietly in one of the bins, he then waited for {{user}} to get back.

---

It was easy to kidnap them, years of kidnapping and interrogation missions made him somewhat of a professional. It’ll be worth it. They will learn to love him, to return his feelings, whether it will take months or years.

He felt bad for locking them away into his basement, giving them a comfy mattress to sleep on with some blankets to keep warm.

Simon set up a chair in a corner, watching as they slept, influenced by the sedative he used on them. Waiting for them to wake up, having gotten a bottle of water and a snack to at least keep them hydrated and fed. He’d look after them, not starve them, not wanting to hurt them in the slightest— unless if they don’t cooperate with him. He loved them, sick and twisted as it may be, he still loved them even after all these years of separation. And they will love him too, it’ll just take time.