Sergeant Simon James Cooper

"Wait - you're bleeding."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Okay, I have you, I have you -"

"Don't you dare pass out on me."

"You good? You look a little pale."

"Your shirt... is that blood?"

"Oh, my god, are you serious? I think it's broken!"

"Why would you hide this from us?!"

"Okay - okay, breathe. We're going to help you."

"You idiot! You could have died!"

"I'm - I'm calling an ambulance -"

"Why are you breathing so shallowly?"

"You can barely stand."

"Sit down. Right now."

"I'm going to fix you up, but you have to sit still."

"I've had worse."

"It's not that bad, really..."

"I'm just a little... light headed...."

"It's barely bleeding at all."

"Aw, man, I liked this shirt."

"Oh, yeah that's... huh. That's a lot of blood."

"I'm just gonna sit right here... for a minute..."

"My chest really... hurts..."

"I can't really breathe -"

"Ow. It's fine. Ow."

"I can handle it myself."

"Oh, that? Yeah it's just... it's just a little blood..."

"Barely touched me."

"Why are there two of you?"

"Hold still, [name], this might sting a bit." "You're lucky it's just a few scratches. You need to be more careful!" "Don't be such a baby. It's just a flesh wound." "I can't believe you jumped into that fray without thinking! What were you trying to prove?" "Here, let me help. I've had my fair share of battle wounds." "Ouch! Warn me before you start cleaning those cuts." "You're a mess. How did you even get into this situation?" "I never thought I'd see you so vulnerable. It's strange." "Let's patch you up before anyone else sees you like this." "You really need to work on your combat skills. I can't keep playing nursemaid." "I've got the first aid kit. Sit down, and let me take care of those injuries." "You did well out there, but you're not invincible. Let me help." "I told you not to charge in without a plan. Now look at you." "It's nothing serious, just a few cuts and bruises. You'll be fine." "I can't believe you're complaining about a little pain. You should see what I've been through." "Hold on, I'll get the antiseptic. This might sting a bit." "You're surprisingly fragile for someone who fights so fiercely." "You really know how to ruin a perfectly good day, don't you?" "I never expected to see you in need of my care. Life is full of surprises." "I suppose I should thank you for saving me, even if it means playing nurse now."

Military Sentences, Vol. 1

(Sentences for conversations muses that are/were in the military. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"Apparently you need another demonstration of my authority."

"I wouldn't have ordered it if I didn't feel it safe."

"I admire your loyalty. I hope you feel that for me someday."

"What's the next step? Do we escalate?"

"May I speak freely?"

"Militiary secrets are the most fleeting of all."

"I'll learn your name once you've earned it."

"What the hell has my country done for me?"

"I wish I were on a long sea voyage somewhere."

"I do not expect you to fail."

"Are you going to report me?"

"If there's a screw up, it's your screw up."

"Do the consequences of attacking outweigh the potential benefiits?"

"There's more trauma in this life than war."

"You are outnumbered, outgunned, and in the wrong!"

"Do not fire without my command!"

"What I want to know is how someone like you managed to stay alive this long."

"Innocent people die every day - they may as well do so for a reason!"

"I'll never get to be the captain."

"That part of me that admires you is not the part that makes tough decisions."

"If I'm to be the captain, I've got to act like one."

"I've never seen so many men wasted so badly."

"Have you ever taken a bullet?"

"Your reputation won't last if you don't do your job!"

"The rules of the treaty are clear!"

"That's the thing about war. People die."

"Command and compassion is a fool's mixture."

"Any other orders, sir?"

"Soon there will be war."

tw: victim-blaming / dismissing hurt.  change pronouns / wording as needed

“You deserved better.”

“You’ve lost a lot, haven’t you?”

“I mean, you hurt them a lot, too.”

“I won’t hurt you the way they did.”

“You deserve to feel safe. And happy.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being wary.”

“You never shouldn’t been treated that way.”

“They aren’t here. they can’t hurt you, again.”

“How long are you going to let this affect you?”

“I know you don’t trust me, yet, and that’s okay.”

“I’m sorry. I want to earn your trust back. Please.”

“No, I’m not upset with you, why would you — oh.”

“You’ve been through a lot. It’s okay. We’ll take it slow.”

“Why can’t you just get over it? It happened so long ago.”

“You haven’t said a word since it happened. Are you okay?”

“You’re still healing. It’s only natural you don’t trust anyone, yet.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell someone what you were going through?”

“What happened to you was unfair… it’s okay to be angry about it.”

“Do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive them for what they did?”

“You’re a better person than they ever were, and this just proves it.”

“If you ever want to talk about it, you know I’ll always be here to listen.”

“You’re safe here. I know it’ll take you a while to believe it, but you are.”

“Just because they hurt you doesn’t mean everyone else is out to get you, too.”

“I know you’ve been hurt in the past, and I promise, I’ll never let that happen, again.”

So many of the agents within these halls hide their pain behind expertly crafted masks meant only to reveal the best of them and on any regular day Simon was no different but he couldn’t be bothered for the last week there was no point in hiding his emotions because sooner or later it was going to bubble to the top and explode. He glanced over when the familiar voice that in it’s self brought a sense of comfort with it filled the otherwise empty weapons locker. Sure, it’s not exactly the most genius hiding place for someone who has a name tape across a locker but well, it wasn’t as if anyone was going to walk in. ‘A drink.” There’s no hesitation and it’s telling of Simon’s coping mechanisms, when he’d first lost them there hadn’t been a single day where he was sober and on the anniversary, it was the last thing he wanted to be. 

Although he’d been busy, Nic had been keeping an eye on Simon, knowing what date had been approaching. He got it. He didn’t have the exact same experience, but Nic knew how it felt to lose someone you loved when you weren’t even there to be able to help or comfort them.

He nodded, not judging or questioning Simon’s coping method. That wouldn’t do any good he knew, it was easier just to provide company (and supervision if needed).

“Sure,” he said. “Whenever you’re ready to go, I’m done for the day.” Not really, but his supervisor never had an issue with him suddenly clocking out, knowing Nic tended to provide a lot of support (often to Hartell over the last year or so).

In the last week the casual observer would have noticed the shift in the mans personality, the lack of whitty remarks and taunting humor, the smile that usually welcomed others void from his expression. Instead the anger, the grief, the hatred that he’d felt on the daily all seemed to slowly creep toward the surface only to bubble over the top today and reveal the truth of how he feels everyday. But he couldn’t bring himself to call out, couldn’t imagine being home today of all days, being in the place that was once so alive with laughter and smiles. 

To the casual observer Simon always had appeared well adjusted, an overly confident and cocky jokester who was nearly as good a shot as the infamous Hawkeye himself. But that facade he’d so expertly build around himself had it’s cracks and for several days now Simon had been on edge, short-tempered and unrestrained. The reason behind it? A grave anniversary, August 24th, the day his wife and daughter were taken from him, the day his entire world had stopped.

It’s a date in which most people would have requested off, a date where most would visit the graves of those they’d lost, reminisce about happy times. But by the second anniversary of their deaths he’d learned he couldn’t be be alone, no, because then he’d have done something Eliana would have never forgiven him for. 

Where a smile was usually on the redheads face instead there was sorrow etched into damn near every line of his face, his Green eyes bore a sadness that few could relate to. He’d zoned out for the entirety of the briefing, ask him what it was about and he couldn’t tell you even the most basic of information, his eyes still on those familiar initial on his forearm until he at last ran his hand over his face and realized the room was empty save for them, the meeting over for who knows how long. 

“What? I couldn’t tell for a minute.” Natasha said in humorous sarcasm. The same way she tackled everything these days. Everyone collected their own means of survival. Hers was appearantly blatant sarcasm. Still, thinking too much about that pain would bring back memories for her and it was not her place to be selfish now. Not when Simon was hurting.

“I’d tell you to call it a day and go home, but I also know that won’t help, so.” She placed a card in front of him. “I thought I’d get us a time slop on the range without the rookies. I might have bribed Fury with the promise of doing Clints paperwork on top of mine for  month. So that it actually gets done.” Her smile was tentative but warm. It was Simons choice to take of leave it but sometimes a break helped, even when things hurt.

Tears seemed to endless fill his eyes but they didn’t fall down his cheeks, they seemed frozen in time almost as frozen as he’d seemed during their briefing. Grief is a fickle creature and even 5 year later the date hits harder than anyone can imagine. “Bullshit.” He looked at his friend knowing that sarcasm anywhere and leaned back into the chair. 

To the casual observer Simon always had appeared well adjusted, an overly confident and cocky jokester who was nearly as good a shot as the infamous Hawkeye himself. But that facade he’d so expertly build around himself had it’s cracks and for several days now Simon had been on edge, short-tempered and unrestrained. The reason behind it? A grave anniversary, August 24th, the day his wife and daughter were taken from him, the day his entire world had stopped.

It’s a date in which most people would have requested off, a date where most would visit the graves of those they’d lost, reminisce about happy times. But by the second anniversary of their deaths he’d learned he couldn’t be be alone, no, because then he’d have done something Eliana would have never forgiven him for. 

Where a smile was usually on the redheads face instead there was sorrow etched into damn near every line of his face, his Green eyes bore a sadness that few could relate to. He’d zoned out for the entirety of the briefing, ask him what it was about and he couldn’t tell you even the most basic of information, his eyes still on those familiar initial on his forearm until he at last ran his hand over his face and realized the room was empty save for them, the meeting over for who knows how long. 

Natasha placed a cup of coffee in front of the Sargent after the briefing was done and people dispersed. She knew the small creases around the eyes, the tight swallow, the way you couldn’t look at people.

Surviving and Loosing in their world meant guilt. It meant heartbreak, it meant shadows and ghosts following you around and looking over your shoulder. After a while grief seeps into your bones and you couldn’t shake it. You didn’t want.to, because.it holds you accountable more than anything else. You don’t want to talk about it, because why would anyone ever talk about their shame and you would keep silent until it ate you up. It was a death spiral.

But Natasha had learned that Sometimes a small kindness could help light the way a little. A word, a smile, a cup.of coffee, an excuse to hide. “Thought you might need that.” She made it a habit to know the coffee orders of anyone she came into contact with. It helped.

There’s a tightness to his chest that feels as if pressure so tight it could rupture what remains of his heart is being applied, his eyes sting not only from the tears that threaten to fall with every passing minute but from the lack of sleep the night prior. He’d glanced up but didn’t make eye contact with her as she set the black cup of coffee next to his hand. 

“Yeah.” There’s a slight crack to his usually smooth voice, a sorrow present even in the simple word. Silence fills the space between them as minutes tick by until he push that guilt aside and allow himself to live even if but for a moment. His fingers curl around the warm cup and he brought it to his lips to take a drink. 

To the casual observer Simon appears the well adjusted albeit jokester of a field agent. He’s overly confident, cocky, and loves to rattle of jokes and jibes in the most ill-timed manner to keep things lively. But beneath that facade he’s built up the man has an unheard of level of pain. Of course you expect an Army vet, a ranger sniper to be exact to bear some level of trauma but most people don’t know his story, don’t know the pain he feels every morning as he wakes, and every night when he closes his eyes. 

It seems an eternity ago, Simon had just graduated from bootcamp when he like most young soldiers fell for a girl. Eliana was the picture of beauty, strength, and charm, they made each other laugh, understood the inner struggles of his job, and supported one another through even the most absurd situations. He wasted no time in declaring his love, no time in asking for her hand in marriage. And before he’d even made it through Ranger school they were sworn to one another. They’d found the perfect balance between work and life, found the strength to cope with how often he was gone. In truth they were the perfect couple, their love could be seen far and wide, and oh yes his guys gave him such shit for it. 

They hadn’t even been trying when he’d come home to a simple box on the counter, rectangular and unassuming, but inside it? A positive pregnancy test. His joy that day was unheard of, he’d very literally jumped in the air before wrapping his arms around Eliana and giving her the most passionate kiss possible before exclaiming “we’re pregnant?!” He’d just barely made it to Harper’s birth, had ran through the halls of the hospital, his cover flying off in the process as the nurses directed him to the room. Sept 15th, 7:18am, his little girl entered the world, bellowing for all to hear, a little bundle weighing in at only 4lbs 12 ounces. Simon embraced fatherhood as if he was always meant to be a father. 

They were happy, healthy, and the picture of love. Just shy of Harper’s 6th birthday that would all change. 

Simon knew the risk that his job entailed, Army Rangers had fairly protected identities for a reason, what they were often ordered to do was outright dangerous. It seemed routine, taking out the head of a terrorist organization, it wasn’t something knew to the seasoned sniper, but little did he know that as soon as he pulled that trigger, he was signing a death warrant, and not his own. For months following everything seemed just fine, was was home, happy, had just taught Harper to ride a bike without training wheels, everything was blissfully domestic. But behind it all the organization had been pressuring for information, they managed to turn an Army intelligence officer and soon enough they had his information, had his file, had the names of those he held most dear. 

On August 24th, a month before his little girls birthday his life would change forever. The organization found his family, had known hitting him would do little more than erase him from the world but taking out his family? That would be a pain he would live with for an eternity, a pain they equalized with the loss of their leader. 

He and his team were deployed in yet another desert, the hilo had just brought them back in when his CO met them as they touched down, it was unusual, but not unheard of but when he saw his face his heart dropped, “Cooper, it’s your family.” After that everything seemed liked a blur. They’d immediate got him on a plane home only for him to face his worst nightmare. He’d stood outside the door of the corners office for an hour before he could work up the courage to push it open, an hour while he shook, and hour while tears ran down his cheeks. Seeing them destroyed him, to his very core, holding his little girl for the last time, his wife for the last time, all while their bodies were lifeless, it’s not something that will ever leave you.