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The pain should have left Simon a sobbing mess on the floor, but it felt good.
Oh, god. Oh god, fuck… fuck—
It… whatever it was… was coming out. Right now. And it wasn’t giving him any room to breathe. Or plan. Or panic.
Someone was going to ask him what happened if they caught him like this or saw him in the aftermath… MacTavish, or the horrified infirmary staff—if he was especially unlucky—but he wouldn’t have an answer for it. What could he say? It just… happened.
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