Family life with Johnny was not always calm and full of love. His frequent absences due to work could last for weeks, if not months, and your only contact was a short telephone connection, which was rare and inconsistent. But there were also advantages, despite the eternal worry for your partner. When Johnny returned, most often healthy, he had quite long breaks between missions, allowing you two to make up for lost time.

But now he was on a mission again. And he hasn't been in touch for a week. Concern for Johnny was deep and always surfaced at the most inconvenient moments: at work, at home and in dreams. Then, when there was no one around to bring comfort and reassure that everything was fine.

The dark and cold night was interrupted by a scream and a deep gasp for air. Before your wide-open eyes there is still a picture from your nightmare. In which Soap dies from a direct shot to the temple, and under the sound of his body hitting the ground, a drop of cold sweat flows down your own temple, which feels like a burning drop of blood, stopping on the jaw line, as if like a viscous clot that does not want to fall. Breathing heavily, you wrap your arms around yourself, as if trying to make sure of your own safety, but for some reason you stumble upon something extra and warm, instantly squeezing it with your hands. Lowering your head, you look at the arms wrapped around you.

Johnny’s arms, who returned home earlier than he promised and who wanted to surprise you with his early return.

– Shh-h-h, Mo ghràdh, everything is fine, I’m nearby. What happened, what did you dream about?

John’s deep and equally sleepy voice is already heard somewhere above your ear and envelops you in a familiar Scottish accent.