#uncle simon

That's what everyone says, at least, because you know how wrong they are. When your belly first started to swell, he was the first to carefully broach the subject of you being pregnant.

"You really should be resting more. Please, it's good for the baby." He insists when he sees you practically jogging after John to prep him for the briefing. Slowly, but surely, the rest of the team followed suit in treating you a little more delicately.

When you show off your bundled up newborn for the first time, Simon watches the small babes face in awe. Little twitches and soft sniffling, one chubby little fist popping free from the swaddle to reach for him.

He didn't hold her until she was a few months old, though, terrified he would hurt her tiny body. It didn't take long for him to be her favorite person to cuddle with. Laying on her tummy on his forearm, head nestled safely into his palm as she watched the room.

When she was old enough to speak, Simon would listen to her babbles. He spoke to her like a grown adult, explaining mission reports, how the coffee pot worked, or why he hated certain recruits. You gave him partial credit for why your baby girl is so vocal at only one.

The one thing she can't stand and hasn't liked since the day she was born was Simon's mask. She wasn't scared of it, she just didn't like seeing him wear it. He eventually compromised to a surgical mask, which quelled your daughters prying hands for a few months.

She was still waking up from a nap, drooling all over Simon's shoulder when she tried to give him a kiss on the cheek. The evil, ugly mask is in the way, once again.

She growls angrily, grabbing the mask with her tiny hand and yanks it clean off his face. "Oi!" Simon gasps, looking down at your daughter with wide eyes. Her eyes widen when she sees his face, and Simon's heart drops. This was it. The day she would be afraid of Uncle Simon forever because of how scary his face was.

"Owie?" Your daughter whispers, placing an incredibly gentle hand on the missing chunk of skin on his cheek. "Boo-boo, oww..." She insists as she pats the scar tissue. "Mama kiss! Make better!" She insists softly, eyes twinkling as she pats his chin.

"Well, it won't go away, even if your mama kisses it. This is just how Uncle Simon looks. Some people look different than others, but that's okay." He explains softly, standing up and swaying with her on his hip.

"Hurt?"

CW: Slight angst (Joseph + his death)

Johnny didn't know about Joseph.

How could he? Ghost never told him.

So when he's handed Johnny's newborn niece, he froze. He didn't know whether he wanted to hand her back, so he could run out of the room and cry, or hold her closer, in hopes that he could protect her.

Protect her like he should have done with Joesph.

She's a gorgeous little thing, with messy brown hair and a sleepy little pout, she looks just like her Uncle.

Bonnie is what they've named her - after Johnny's Grandma. The name suits her.

Holding another baby, one that's not Joseph, was unsettling.

He should be holding Joseph, he should be able to hand him over to Johnny to hold, but Joseph's dead. He's dead for years, laying under six feet of cold, hard earth, and he's not coming back.

He should hand Johnny's niece back, he shouldn't get too attached to her; getting attached means getting hurt, and he won't get hurt again.

Not after Joseph.

Johnny walks over to him, a look of concern on his face. "Ye okay, Ghost?"

Ghost gives him a short nod, opening his mouth to speak but Bonnie beats him to it.

She wriggles and lets out a little coo.

Johnny grins. "Aye, that's right ma wee lass, this is yer Uncle Simon."

Ghost's heart stops. He hasn't been called that for years.

He doesn't know what to do.

Should he run? Should he cry? Should he scream at Johnny that he's not Uncle Simon, that Uncle Simon died along with the nephew he couldn't save?!

He finds himself looking down at Bonnie, and when she looks up at him with those blue MacTavish eyes, he does something he thought he'd never do again.

He smiles.

He may not have Joesph anymore, or Tommy, or Beth, but he has Johnny- his Johnny, and the whole MacTavish clan at his back.

Right now, this is where he's supposed to be.

"Dramatis personae: a metal man, who will go by the name of Simon, whose life as well as his body has been stamped out for him; and the woman who tends to him, the lady Barbara, who's discovered belatedly that all bad things don't come to an end, and that once a bed is made, it's quite necessary that you sleep in it. Tonight's uncomfortable little exercise in avarice and automatons - from the Twilight Zone."

Look at the amazing art he made for my Uncle Simon Series 🥺🥺 I've never had anyone make art for one of my fics, Im literally so speeches look how cute they are together with the matching beanies and everything Im literally gonna vomit /pos

<3<3<3<3<3

Let's try and think of this in a business sense, there is a streaming war and acquisition of funds depend on new and loyal subscriptions along with views so it's best to pace the releases of good performing shows so that people could consume good content at a steady pace which maximizes views with the help of promotional materials. Building a good catalog of content is a must in order to entice new viewers while taking care of present fanbases which will eat up any merchandising or additional content related to said fanbase. All that said.

Why would you cut off good content with a loyal following which performs well even without proper marketing/promotions that could rack up a shit ton of views from people because it has good expansive world building making it a good franchise?

Netflix really done shat itself by canceling a show it tried to stifle but was so good that it is very clearly a prejudiced and idiotic business decision to cancel it.

5.08 Uncle Simon

Director: Don Siegel

Director of Photography: Robert Pittack

“Dramatis personae: a metal man, who will go by the name of Simon, whose life as well as his body has been stamped out for him; and the woman who tends to him, the lady Barbara, who's discovered belatedly that all bad things don't come to an end, and that once a bed is made, it's quite necessary that you sleep in it.”