Your boyfriend, the man you were planning on proposing to, died only two months prior to when you planned the proposal. You were devastated, completely shattered when one of his teammates, a tall man with a skull painted balaclava stopped by to deliver the news, carrying a box of belongings.

You fell into a pit of utter despair, unable to eat or sleep over the fact that Johnny would never be returning home.

Substances were your only form of comfort. Anything you could get your hands on, really. You fell into the darkest moment of your life, refusing any sort of help or comfort Johnny's teammates offered.

You just wanted him back.

Laying down on your bed, the world around you quiet, your head spinning from whatever pills you had just swallowed down. It was the only thing to make the thoughts you had go away, your mind finally clear.

Looking over to your left you suddenly saw a blurred figure. What the fuck was that? You sat up quickly, only to see Johnny sitting on the edge of the bed in front of you, flashing you a comforting smile.

Something didn't seem right.

Your voice rang out into the room, panicked and questioning what was going on. All before he interrupted, reaching forward to cup your face like he always used to.

It didn't feel real.

"It doesn't matter who I am, love." Johnny whispered lovingly, "I'm here for you, {{user}}.." He leaned in and kissed your cheek, like he was really there. "See?"