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You felt yourself slip back into consciousness as Simon stirred in bed beside you. He was never one to toss and turn, more like the type to sleep like a literal corpse until his military-trained circadian rhythm kicked into action. You heard him muttering in his sleep, something he typically did when he was having a nightmare. They weren't common anymore, usually only happening if something triggered him. You could barely remember the last time he'd had one, and even then it hadn't been too bad.
"Simon? Hun, are you alright?" You asked softly, voice still raspy from disuse while sleeping. You tried to decipher his muttered words, remembering the times he'd felt ashamed of his nightmares. When he would walk out of the room entirely, instead of just talking to you. "Simon? Can you hear me?" You rolled over to face him. His brows furrowed in looked like fear and anger, his face illuminated by the moonlight peeking in past the curtains.
"No- Not again, not her -" he grumbled softly, voice gruff and panicked.
"Simon. Hey," you sit up, now growing more worried, looking at him as worry marred your face. "Wake up. You're having a nightmare, love, you need to wake up." You reached a hand out to him, only to run it through his short-cropped hair, hoping to soothe him.
Clearly not the brightest idea.
Simon's eyes snapped open when your fingers made contact with his skin, pupils shrunken into barely visible specks in the darkness of the room. It was like something in him snapped and before you knew it, you were being pinned to the bed with your arm pinned painfully to your back as his other hand pushed your face further into the sheets.
"Simon- Simon, it's me!" You yelled, wincing in pain, "Baby, it's me, please, you're hurting me!" You couldn't help the tears that fell, despite knowing he would never intentionally hurt you. You cursed whoever had harmed him in such a way, that he lost himself entirely, his eyes wild when you strained your neck to look back at him. When your teary eyes connected with his, the fight left him entirely. The puzzle pieces of his life clicked back into place, his hand dropping its tight grip from your wrist.
"Shit- shit -" he muttered scrambling away from you as if he'd been burned. "No. No, no, no, no - sweetheart I'm so sorry, I swear I-" He stopped talking as you sat up slowly, your arm falling back into place beside you. He climbed off the bed when you tried to reach for him. "No- I can't. I- I-" he looked away, "I can't be here."
That was all he said before he left the room, not even grabbing a pillow or blanket as he went to sleep on the couch, "Simon! Simon, please, come back.." But he didn't listen to your calls, all he could see were the tears of pain on your cheeks, the tears he'd caused. It was his fault, all his fault.
Now it's been days since he's talked to you, let alone slept in the same room as you. He can barely even keep eye contact with you anymore and all you get from him are grunts and short responses at most. Every time you practically begged him to come back to the bedroom instead of straining his back on the couch he would always shut you down and wave off the idea entirely.
You stood at the kitchen sink, washing dishes, another dinner gone by without so much as a word from him. You winced as the purple-blue mark of the bruise around your wrist knocked against the countertop, the ache in your shoulder pulsating mildly. Simon watched you from the couch, his heart squeezing painfully, his bloodshot eyes glued to that bruise. He hated that he was the cause of that pain, that thought had kept him up for the past three days. The sound of the dishes against the sink was a slight distraction from his unending self-loathing, serving as white noise to drown out his thoughts.
But even that was a brief reprieve, you turned the water off, drying your hands as his guilt continued its journey of exponential growth. Why had he blacked out like that? What was wrong with him? How could he possibly hurt the one person he loved most in this world, the one person who kept him sane?
"Simon, hun, you okay?" You called out to him, seeing his eyes become glazed over as he stared off into space, you hated seeing him get into his own head like this.
"I'm fine, love, nothing to worry about," he lied. He'd even tried to force a smile onto his face, it pained you to see how he was keeping it all in, letting it build up. It hurt you to see him let his emotions fester, becoming more and more toxic to himself, more lethal, the mortal equivalent of a supernova. The beautiful death of a star that has exploded in a fiery release from years of existence, it was painful to think of Simon in the same way.
You opened your mouth before closing it again, what could you even say that would make him feel better? You knew how his mind worked, knew how he blamed himself for hurting you, even if you didn't. It hadn't been his fault truly, he was having a nightmare, he never did it with the intent to harm you. You just wished he would see it that way too. So all you did was nod, giving him the softest smile you could manage.
The one thought that echoed in his head the most was; What if he does it again?
"Simon," you snapped him out of his spiral, "Tell me things, please... Don't shut me out.."
He looked at you, making eye contact, his red eyes looking into yours. He wanted to tell you things, so many things . A million thoughts bounced around the inside of his skull, an echoing mess that made him want to scream, shout, and cry. He could fill a book with the things he wanted to tell you and could write endless letters until he developed carpal tunnel syndrome. But the one thing he could never do was verbalize them. He didn't know where to begin, how could he possibly tell you how terribly messed up he was, how much he loved you, or how much he hated himself for hurting you?
So he said nothing, letting his heart ache as you sighed defeatedly.
You slid on your shoes and grabbed your keys, "I'll be back, I'm going to check the mail." You gave him a smile that crumbled as soon as you stepped out the door. His guilt drowned him as soon as you'd walked out, he wanted so badly to tell you everything but he froze, froze when he saw that bruise. He didn't deserve your love, not if he could hurt you like that. So instead of running out after you and telling you how much he loved you and how sorry he felt, he fell back onto the couch. Simon stared up at the ceiling, letting his guilt eat him alive.
You came back without any mail in your hands but your eyes were red and glassy, he couldn't make himself look at you though, so he sat there in numb silence as you made your way upstairs to the bedroom you hadn't shared in days. You'd even stopped asking him to join you now, knowing he wouldn't agree. He listened to the bedroom door closing and let out a soft exhale. The silence felt suffocating like it would swallow him alive, and he wasn't known for being claustrophobic.
The silence was deafening, his mind a mess. He knew you were hurting too and wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms, but the irrational fear that he'd only hurt you again made him freeze. Simon buried his face into his hands, wishing his mind would just quiet down - like it did when you were around.
His head snapped up when he heard something break upstairs, a shattering noise - something glass or ceramic. Simon's blood ran cold, what was that? He got off the couch and went up the stairs, the door of your bedroom flinging open as he entered the room, his chest heaving with how fast he'd rushed. There you were kneeling on the ground, trying to pick up the broken pieces of glass from the framed picture from your wedding. All he could do was mutter your name, his voice gruff and hoarse.
"Sorry- sorry, I didn't mean for it to break, I just knocked it over by mistake," you scrambled to pick up the broken glass with shaky hands, tears running down your cheeks. The past three days with little to no communication were making you spiral just as much as him. He took a step toward you and in the moment the question of whether he deserved you or not was answered. He didn't. But he would make it up to you, make up for not talking to you, for leaving you in the dark, for forgetting he could trust you.
Your shaky hands moved rapidly trying to gather all the broken shards of glass, gaze alternating between him and the broken picture frame, not paying attention as a shard slashed your palm. A small cry of pain left you as blood welled up from the gash and Simon's self-loathing only grew. He dropped to his knees his hands reaching out but stopping short as the bruise revealed itself to him again, practically flashing against your wrist.
The least he could do was this, after causing you pain in so many ways, "Love, let me see it I'll- I'll help," his voice was hushed and panicky despite the fact he'd seen worse wounds than this for years on end. You watched your blood drip onto the wooden floor as he got the first-aid kit from the bathroom. The cut wasn't too deep and the bleeding was already slowing as he began mending the wound.
Simon watched you sniffle quietly as he cradled your hand gently in his own, touching more tenderly than he had in days. He wanted so badly to run his fingers through your hair, to pull you close, to hold you in his arms again. You wiped your tears away with your other hand.
"Love, you're alright, the bleeding's stopped and nothing is broken," he said, his voice low and soft. He wrapped the cut with gauze, the wound no bigger than a few centimetres, trying his hardest to ignore the bruise on your wrist which debilitated his thought entirely. No, he had to take charge of the situation, it was in his basic training, and he was better than this. "Good as new, love, you're alright." His voice was surprisingly steady as his fingers trembled with their weak grip on your wrist.
You managed a weak thank you to which he immediately responded, "No need to thank me, darling. Get on the bed, I need to clean this up." His hand held yours gently, the wound pulsing in your palm the excuse he needed to make amends for the wounds he'd caused.
"You don't need to do that," you said softly, your eyes red and puffy from crying and tired from the emotional exhaustion of the past few days. You stood up, injured hand cradled to your chest.
"No." That was all Simon said, not letting you fight him on this, this was his job, not yours. You relented and nodded, climbing into bed as he cleaned up the mess of broken glass and blood. You didn't need to deal with this right now, he could take this burden from you at the very least. He watches your small figure curled up on the bed, the bed he wished to sleep in beside you. "Are you alright, love?"
"Mm.." you hummed in response softly. The response wasn't enough to sate his guilt, he'd do anything to just go back to how things were before, before he'd scared you like that. He needed to compose himself, to explain he would never hurt you again - even if it wasn't on purpose the first time. But why couldn't he just say it?
"Thank you for cleaning up," you whispered softly, pulling back the covers on his side of the bed, just in case.
Simon could see the exhaustion in your eyes that barely met his now, he wanted to say so much but all that left him was, "No worries love." His heart ached at the way you pulled back the covers for him. Why were you trying to comfort him after he'd hurt you? Why couldn't he just let himself be taken care of? "I-" He had so much to say, so many apologies, so many questions, but none came out and the silence was deafening. Your tired eyes looked at him and his heart broke even more, shattered like the picture frame had.
He wanted to hold you, to kiss you, soothe all your aches and pains. He wanted to make this right. Simon didn't deserve your love, your compassion and care. But he wanted it, He needed it. "Love," he said softly, voice shaky, "I'm sorry, I swear." His voice broke and he hated how small the words sounded coming from him.
"It's okay, Simon, really." You muttered, eyebrows furrowing as you sat up to lean back on your elbows.
Those words ripped his broken heart into a million pieces, "No. That's the problem, it's not okay." He looked you in the eyes, " I'm not okay. I don't know what happened..." He reached out but pulled his hand back, flinching away.
"Simon," you crawled toward him, moving toward where he stood at the edge of the bed.
His words caught in his throat, you didn't have to do this, he'd put you through enough already. "Love," he wanted to pull you in, hold you close, and never let you go. But he was just so afraid of hurting you again, "I-"
You silently reached out a hand, the uninjured one, letting him choose whether he was ready to take it or not.
Simon's hand reached out, trembling as it touched yours. What was this? You shouldn't be touching him, holding him, and yet you did. His eyes locked onto you, why were you still here, why did you still have faith in him? He certainly didn't have any in himself. "I- I don't deserve you... Your love, it's too good for me."
"But you do," you protested softly. The words rolled off your tongue as if they'd been uttered a million times and were common knowledge. You pulled him to sit down on the bed beside you.
"No," no he didn't. He wanted to pull away from you, to distance himself, but he couldn't physically move away from you. As if you were a planet and he was a mere moon caught in your orbit. And you wouldn't let him, it made tears well in his eyes which only made him feel weak. "I'm not good- I'm not a good man, I'm not a good husband, not anymore ."
"But you are," you said softly, how could you convince the man you loved he was good? How could you show him just how far he was from the distorted image he'd created of himself?
"No I'm not, " he ground out, "I'm a monster. I kill and I hurt, I have more blood on my hands than you've ever seen. What kind of man could hurt his own wife?" He couldn't look you in the eye anymore.
"Simon, it wasn't your fault. You were having a nightmare, I- I shouldn't have reached out like that, I should've known it would scare you," you protested, always so damn stubborn.
"That's bullshit." He snapped, "Don't you dare blame yourself for this... It's my fault. What kind of man can't control his own emotions?" His rouge tears trailed down his cheeks.
You raised a hand to cup his face, stopping for a moment to check it was okay, "It was a mistake. You were barely conscious. You weren't trying to hurt me."
Warmth radiated off your palm, the look in your eyes nothing but kindness, entirely devoid of pity of any kind. This is what love looks like. Loving someone through their flaws, loving them more than they hate themselves, "No, I-" His eyes flashed to the bruise again, heart lurching, you were hurt - because of him - it made his blood boil. "Look what I did to you."
"Simon, I'm fine, nothing happened," you tried to counter but he wouldn't allow it.
"No. You are not fine . You're hurt and you deserve better, better than me." He was desperate for you to understand, he should've never married you, never condemned you to a life with him. "You deserve someone better," he could never be that man for you.
Your heart broke at his voice, how weak it sounded, such a contrast to his usual powerful gruffness that commanded a room and silenced every doubt or insecurity you'd ever had. "Simon, don't say that, you are who I deserve, who I love."
How could you still think like this? Your words cut into him, he didn't feel worthy of you, of having your love for himself. He was a monster, capable of committing heinous acts without a shred of remorse and here you were, holding him in your hands like he was the most precious jewel you'd ever seen. Holding him like the finest china that could break with even the slightest touch. " How? How can you still want this... Want me ? After everything I've done..."
"Because I love you," you said instantly, "Because I know you'd never willingly hurt me because I know you'd die for me and I'd do the same for you - in a heartbeat." You took his hand in yours, the gauze around your palm wrapped tight by his shaky hands.
That was so much worse.
He couldn't fathom how you could still love him like this. Couldn't grasp the idea of what made you stay. He should be glad, he knows, that you still love him despite all his faults and scars, despite all he's done, but it just made him want to curl up and disappear forever. "I am a monster, everything I've done was in malice, everything I touch is destroyed... How could you possibly still love me after all that, how can I convince you that you deserve better?"
Your eyes welled with tears, lip trembling as you fought them back, "Simon..."
His voice was tight, "You say you love me... But this love is doing you more harm than good. You want me to believe that I deserve you, but I can't. I won't. " He couldn't ruin you like this, trap you under all his baggage and trauma, let you suffocate under his guilt. "Please... Just leave me, find someone better, someone who won't hurt you. Someone who will make you happy. "
He'd just stepped on your broken heart and ground it into a cloud of fine dust, letting it fill your lungs and choke you. "Please tell me you don't mean that... I could never find someone else, never be happy with them, never trust them - never love them - like I love you.."
How hard had you struggled to love him? Stubborn enough to continue doing so, to keep holding on to him. His eyes watered but he scrubbed away the tears, "I can't- no I refuse to let you waste your life like this. I won't let you waste your life on me, consoling a monster after he hurts you." He had to make you understand that you were too good for him, even if it took breaking your heart.
You couldn't help but scoff, "You think I'm wasting my life by being with you? Simon, I married you because I love you. I married you because I wanted to grow old with you, to see our lives become tangled in each other, you see them unfold - together . I know you have this notion that I deserve better, but there could never be anything - anyone - better than you.
Your words tore him apart, "You say that now, but what if I hurt you again? What if you can't forgive me again?"
"But you wo-" He cut you off.
"You're smart, young, beautiful- there are a thousand men who would die to spend their lives with you," he said, voice rough and pained. You deserved someone else, someone better. Anyone but him .
"But the only man I want to spend my life with is you." You whispered. It broke him, he could spend every day of his life making it up to you, trying to earn your forgiveness, but it would never be enough.
"I have no right to your love," his eyes strayed from yours.
You pulled him back to look at you, your touch firm but kind. "You have every right to my love, every right to me. I love you, Simon, and I'm not leaving. I know you think you're a monster for what you did, but you're not . You were unconscious and you didn't mean to hurt me. I know for a fact if any other man did the same to me, you'd hunt him down to the ends of the earth. You are not a bad man, not a bad husband . You are all I could hope for and more - all I want in this life and every other ."
Simon closed his eyes. You knew him, you understood him in a way few did. You were right, you were so damn righ t, and it just made it that much harder to keep fighting against you. This wasn't the first time he'd told you he didn't deserve you, and you still fought him on it. "But what if I hurt you again?"
"You won't," you pulled him closer slowly.
He knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t bring himself to fight it anymore. “Love,” Simon whispered. His voice was weak at first, but he pulled you in tighter, finally letting himself give in. The touch of your skin on his was pure fire, it made him weak. “Please, I don’t deserve this,” Simon said, burying his face into your neck, “I can’t do this to you again.”
You wiped his tears away with the pad of your thumb, turning your head to softly kiss the bridge of his nose. "I love you."
He let his eyes open, let the tears fall. He didn't care anymore, he knew he didn't deserve you but the fact you were so willing to let him corrupt you with his mere presence was enough of a clue that you weren't going anywhere. He turned your face into him, pressing his lips against yours. That was the most he'd ever felt like he belonged in this world, in your arms, he could stay like that forever - shut out the rest of the world just for you. But he couldn't, he pulled back, "I-"
You cut him off by pulling him close for another kiss, cupping his face softly as you poured every ounce of your love into the kiss, your tears melding with his.
You refused to let him deny himself of your love and that was when it finally hit. He'd been selfish, so selfish . In denying himself, he'd denied you too. He had pushed you away, and in your stubbornness, you hadn't let him, you'd loved him when he couldn't love himself. He smiled softly, pulling you closer as he let himself fall into the kiss, let himself accept your love. Everything he had tried to keep in, he now gave to you. All the pain, fear, desperation, love - he gave it all to you, you deserved it all. "I love you too.." he whispered back through his tears.
He looked at you softly as he pulled back, his eyes boring into yours. In your eyes he could see the love you felt for him, but what if it changed? He could keep you safe if he left, lived on his own - but then that wouldn't really be living at all.
"I can see the gears in your head turning, Simon," you said softly, fingers running through his hair.
"Can you-" he took a breath, "Can you forgive me, truly, do you not think I'm a bad person?" He asked, his voice smaller than ever.
"I do. I forgive you. You are the kindest, most intimidating-looking, pure soul I have ever seen." You kissed his temple, "Let me forgive you, let me love you. And forgive yourself."
How much easier was it to lie here, holding you, than to lie awake on the couch in the middle of the night, or in the barracks where danger was always around the corner? So far from the battlefield and the fear. Just here, with you. You deserved more than this, you deserved so much more. But right now, Simon felt lucky to just be with you. And he hoped he didn't mess it up. He had to make sure you were safe with him - always.
"I can hear you thinking," you pulled him into bed, laying down and pulling his head onto your chest, "Just turn your brain off and sleep, okay?" Simon nodded and let himself melt into your touch, let himself be at peace, let himself be surrounded by your love.