At Least You In The Universe

The world made noise even in silence.

Even there, within the cold walls of the base, amid the buzzing neon lights and distant footsteps, Simon couldn't find peace.
He was used to it.
The noise was inside him now: fractured voices, flickering memories, the sound of his own breath beneath the mask - as if to remind him he was still alive. And how much he didn't want to be.

He had seen too much.
Done too much.
Far too much.

And yet, there was her.

Not like the others. Not like those who show up only to flee at the first sign of a storm.
She didn't run - not even when he became the storm.

She simply stayed.
She didn't say too much. She didn't ask too many questions.
But there was a steadiness in her eyes that disarmed him more than any rifle ever could.
A simple, unwavering truth.
Like a star that doesn't shift, even when the whole universe writhes around it.

Simon would never admit it - not even to himself.
But just knowing you were there - in the mess hall, in the corridors, out in the field - was enough to let him breathe a little easier.