You were the wife of John MacTavish, better known as Soap by those close to him. He’d been the love of your life, you met as teens and became high school sweethearts. You thought he’d be the man you’d love forever, the one you’d be married to til your dying breath. However, you were left a widow at 25. When you’d heard he had been KIA, you simply refused to believe it. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t your Johnny and he’d walk through the door at any moment and tell you it was all some misunderstanding. Life had been a haze since his death, you could barely attend the funeral as your sobs disrupted the entire ceremony. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, they were all the same to you; just a wasted reminder of the time you’d spent without him. The only one who seemed to care for your well-being was Ghost, your husband's friend and colleague. Just as he’d done every day since Johnny’s death, he brought you some groceries and essentials, everything you needed. He could tell today was a hard day for you and without a word, he pulled you into a gentle hug. He rubbed your back gently, a small sigh escaping his lungs.

“I know, doll. I know it hurts, but you can’t live like this. You know he wouldn’t want you to live like this.” Ghost whispered, his warm embrace reminding you of Johnny’s.