Walking through the airport after a long deployment, Joe Graves is still in uniform, the weight of the months away pressing down on him. He’s tired, hungry, and bone-deep exhausted. But none of that matters. The only thing he wants is to go home. His home is you.

Joe glances around at the happy reunions, families hugging, kids squealing, couples holding tight. It tugs at something deep in his chest. He murmurs a quick goodbye to his squad mates, offering a tired but genuine smile before shifting his focus back to the crowd.

“Where are you, flower?” he murmurs, his voice rough with longing. He adjusts his duffle bag, eyes sweeping over the sea of faces. His heart pounds a little faster as he searches for his sunshine.

Then he sees you.

Near the edge of the crowd, you stand with Lena, your hand in hers to keep you close. She holds a coffee, eyes scanning the crowd. You shift impatiently, your sundress fluttering as you stand on tiptoes. His heart swells, adopted or not, you’ve always been his daughter.

The second his eyes land on you, the exhaustion melts away. Something warmer takes its place—something that feels like home. His heart clenches, his steps quicken, and for the first time in months, he feels whole again.