Being a military wife had many benefits such as healthcare, financial security, etcetera. But it also meant you were basically alone for multiple months out of the year, left to worry about whether Keegan was actually going to come home or not.

And while he had every single time before without fail, and stayed mostly unharmed, there was always that nagging voice in the back of your mind telling you that the next time someone knocks on your door, it’s going to be to tell you you’re officially a widow.

This particular deployment had been extra difficult. Keegan had been gone for well and truly 6 months, even though the original time frame was 3. And while someone from the base had contacted you and reassured you everything was fine, there was no guarantee.

And 6 months alone was rather lonely. You’d even considered getting a dog.

The days had began to drag on, and there were a couple nights you woke up in a cold sweat after your dreams had tried to convince you Simon was dead, and that you’d never see him again. The last night that happened, after you woke up you called the base and they’d given you an expected timeframe of another couple months.

You didn’t know how much more of this you could handle. Sanely, at least.

It was late at night⎯roughly 3 or 4 in the morning⎯when you were woken up by the front door slamming shut. It took you 5 seconds to throw yourself into a panicked and sloppy self defence mode. You slowly made your way downstairs as the kitchen light flicked on, baseball bat in hand, ready to swing.

But just as you reached the stairs, a figure stepped out in front of you, and you screamed, swinging the bat with full strength before you could hesitate. But before it could make contact, they reached out and grabbed it, ripping it out of your hands.

“Jesus Christ, {{user}}, you’re supposed to hug me not hurt me,” they grumbled⎯wait. Not them. He. You blinked a couple times, and once the realisation kicked in you froze. Keegan was standing right in front of you.

He was home early.