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Kyle Garrick was a persistent bastard, he’d give him that. Never one to back down from a challenge or a fight, and boy did Simon put up a fight.

He had absolutely no interest in joining the Sargent on a walk. With the man’s nephews nonetheless. Gaz had thrown around the idea casually of visiting the park to watch screaming children play and their parents take every moment for granted as they sat on their phones. But Kyle wouldn’t take no for an answer, eventually settling on the agreement that the walk was for the dog, not Simon, and that he could sit under the veranda nearby rather than next to the playground itself.

So that’s where they were heading. Two little boys being pulled in a wagon, arguing over whose water bottle was whose and “why did Theo get to bring his figurine and I couldn’t bring my book?”, “because, James, your book is from the library and it can’t get lost or dirty”.

Simon hung back a bit behind, walking Tex at a leisurely pace, occasionally letting the pup stop to piss or smell a bush and then piss. Tex was a good dog, a shit listener sometimes but never showed aggression, hence why he’d been thrown out of the military training program and found his way to the Lieutenant.

The park was chaotic, about a dozen kids running around and a stack of bikes thrown haphazardly by the sidewalk, parents huddled together in conversation and an old woman sat on a bench knitting, foot rolling a buggy back and forth for the sleeping infant inside.

“Oh shit, mate,” Kyle sighed glancing over his shoulder to his shadow. “Looks like they’ve got a party or something going on at the veranda. But there’s an open bench closer to the playground you two can sit at.” He’d thrown a sympathetic smile to Simon, clearly feeling guilty over the change in plans.

They strode to the bench before it could be snatched up and the twins scrambled out of the wagon, eager to join in on the fun. Kyle dropped heavily onto the seat and gestured with his chin for Simon to take a load off as well.

“No matter how many times I haul my kit around the world on mission, it’ll never be as heavy as pullin’ those two boys in this thing.” He’d kicked the wagon with his shoe.

Simon hummed and made Tex lay near his feet, unclipping the portable water bowl from the leash and portioning some out for the pup.

The unspoken grief the two men were experiencing was weighing them down significantly. Johnny’s death was hard for all of them. He’d known Soap and Gaz were close, the younger members of their team got along well with shared interests and easy banter. And Ghost…he saw a lot of his own brother in Soap. And as painful as it was, the fullness in his heart never outweighed the sting of losing his brother. Though sometimes it came close, when he had his own banter with Johnny and when they saved one another’s lives.

Now he was gone, too. The one time Ghost wasn’t there to watch his back, Makarov slipped in and snuffed out the only spot of brightness he’d been able to find after all these years.

He’d become numb to it now, the ache of loss.

But Kyle hadn’t. And he thinks that maybe the two of them had more in common than he was lead to believe. That maybe Johnny was Kyle’s spot of sunshine, too.

The summer sun felt nothing like Soap’s easy grin or the warmth of his touch.

However, the universe works in strange ways, like a young girl skipping up to them, another trailing behind, followed by a flustered woman with an apologetic smile, the youngest of the bunch sat on her hip.

“Is she a service dog?” The tone the girl used was practiced, like the etiquette of asking to pet a dog was a learned behavior rather than impulsive entitlement driving her forwards without permission.

“I’m so sorry—“ The woman rushed to escort what was obviously her charge away but Simon found his voice steady and quick.

“No, he’s not, she can pet him if she wants.”

Tension in her shoulders seemed to ease, a shy smile spreading her pretty lips. It was then he’d noticed her top, sunflowers imprinted on its surface. She reminded him of one, bright and beautiful but understated.

“Go on, honey what do we say?” Her voice was gentle and warm in that perfect motherly way.

“Thank you, mister.”

“I wanna pet him too!”

“Girls,” her correction were firm but kind. “Be gentle and don’t overwhelm him.”

“Sorry, auntie.” Not their mother then, huh?

She moved to place the youngest down, the little girls feet taking confidently wobbly steps towards the others.

Rex for his part, was soaking up the attention, scratches to his belly and pets to the top of his head, cooing little girls calling him a good boy in goofy voices.

When their aunt kneeled down with the youngest, guiding her little hand to stroke the dogs back, he’d taken a moment to glance at Kyle, the man clearly enjoying the scene before him, head propped up on his fist, elbow on his knee. A soft smile decorated his face and the two men made eye contact. A shared sense of comfort was found in this woman’s presence. Her laugh loud and carefree when Rex lapped at her face while the little girls around her giggled, clutching their stomachs and falling over.

The baby clapped her hands and grinned up at Simon and for the first time in his entire life he thought about what it would be like to be a dad. To love someone unconditionally and teach and guide them to be good people with big hearts and kindness ingrained in their being. The antithesis of how he’d grown up. He’d always been afraid of becoming like his old man but he’d never considered that he could break the cycle. Just like Tommy tried to do. Maybe he could honor the brothers he lost that way.

And this woman with the sunflower shirt and the big smile and untamed laugh and clear overflowing love for children who were not even her own might have just unlocked a part of himself he’d hidden away all these years. A part that was soft and tender.