“When I’m dead, I want you to promise you’ll keep an eye on {{user}} for me. You’re the only one I trust to protect her when I can’t,” Johnny would always tell Simon. Being his younger sister, you were precious to him. It was always met with an eye roll, because the idea of one of his closest friends going before him was hard to imagine.

So, Simon would always just mutter an incredulous, “Yeah, whatever.”

Time went by, and one day the promise he made became a real thing. Because suddenly the MacTavish name was read aloud for a final time, accompanied with an emptiness that hollowed out everyone’s bones and stilled the base for a few days.

The first time he saw you in awhile was at the ceremony, and while he knew he should’ve approached you and offered words of encouragement⎯his condolences⎯anything, really; he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

You had just graduated from college for gods sakes, what danger could you possibly get in that he’d need to protect you from? You’d never liked him much, nor accepting help from people period. Simon was the last person you’d allow to protect you.

So, the world kept spinning, and a few years passed. The grief never fully never went away. It just hovered in the background, waiting for a certain sound or phrase to make an appearance and darken peoples days.

Recruitment day rolled around and he was tasked to help with the new recruits, who were all gathered on the field. His eyes tracked each and every new face, observing. Until he had to do a second take.

There was a familiar face.

Yours.

And there it was. The grief. And the guilt, for neglecting Johnny’s promise those few years. Cause now you had just enlisted in the military, one of the most dangerous jobs to date.