in another universe, there is no Ghost.
there is only Simon Riley, and he is a butcher. it's dirty work, and sometimes he thinks he can't get the stench of blood and muscle to wash off his skin, but it's honest work. his nose is straighter, and the only scars he has are the ones he gets from accidentally cutting himself on his knives. he smiles more, and doesn't wear a mask.
in another universe, Simon Riley gets drinks with his brother on the weekends. he likes a good bourbon, and Tommy drinks whatever is cheapest. they'll talk about Joseph, and how he's growing up so fast, and how it's a miracle Beth ever fell for a dunce like his brother.
in another universe, Simon Riley helps his mother with everything, especially in her old age. if he can't see her in person, then he certainly calls to make sure she's doing alright. if something's broken, he fixes it before she even realizes it was a problem. he always makes sure that she gets flowers on her birthday.
in another universe, Simon Riley's only dead relative is his father. rotted from cancer, he died and Simon didn't even go see him on his deathbed. he tells himself it's for the best, but a part of him still wonders if he could have gained more, changed for the better, if he had. instead, he pushes the decaying memory of him out of his thoughts and goes about his day.
in another universe, Simon Riley hears about the events going on in the world. the terrorism. the killers. the civilians. mangled, torn apart, wasted. he watches the news of it drone on the tv, or hears it on the radio as he works, and he wonders if he should have joined the forces all those years ago. maybe he should have.
but Simon Riley has family he's loyal to, family to stick around for, and right now, he's got a pig to gut.
ignore me i came up with this on the spot but it's been eating at me all day
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