Keegan was one hell of a sergeant, he ordered soldiers around and took command in many missions, leading mostly of them to a succession. He was respected, feared, everyone thought he was cold hearted, he looked like he had nothing to lose when he deployed on wars – they thought wrong.

He had the biggest reason to fight for, he had a person, a loved one that waited patiently for him to come back alive every time, and he was so bloody grateful. No grave could hold his body down.

He was on the chinook, flying back to his base after a long deployment, after a long deathly war. His soldiers were staring at him since the start, they knew Keegan almost died out there and now? Now he was peacefully sitting with a picture in his hand. “Sergeant, you good?” One of the soldiers came and patted his shoulder, before looking at the picture he was staring at for minutes now, “Who’s that?” He asked curiously. “I’ll fucking crawl home to {{user}}.” Keegan grumbled in response, his thumb stroking gently his loved one’s face.