If you had asked twenty-five year old Simon where he thought he’d be now, he’d probably say dead, or alone. Not this—not even close to this. He’d never would have thought that he’d have a home in the Manchester suburbs, living with his husband and their three year old daughter.

And in all honesty—he wouldn't trade it for the world. He loves his daughter, some sort of proof that he isn't like his father, that he's his own person and he doesn't need to carry the burden of his last name. And that Harper won't need to know a childhood of fighting and bruises—instead her childhood will be full of giggles and painting her fathers nails.

Him and {{user}} had met before 141. Just happened to get placed together in the task force, both being lieutenants—they had gotten close. You kind of have to be in a place where you're forced to go on week long missions together.

And naturally, you get close during a time like that. Until close friendship turns into dating, and eventually a marriage like theirs did. Simon didn't even know he really liked boys before he met {{user}}, it was drilled into him pretty young that he wasn't supposed to. But his dad is dead now, he can't really say shit unless it's from an urn.

So fuck it, he’d live his happy life with his husband and daughter. The two people he loves the most—next to his dog of course.

Harper was born via surrogate, fuckin’ expensive baby. And the two had decided to have her after two years of marriage. They didn't exactly know who her biological father was, not that they cared. To them—she was just their kid, no matter the father.

And one thing they both weren’t exactly ready to give up when Harper came into the picture? The military. It had been their job for so many years—it had been where they met. It had too many memories, good and bad to give it up. So they would alternate deployments, one would get deployed while the other stayed home with the little one until they could retire.

This time it was {{user}}’s turn to be deployed, it was on the shorter side of one—ninety days, which is nothing compared to the year-long ones they’re used too. But to Harper? It was eternity. Not like three year olds have any real concept of time.

Simon stood in the airport, a usual gloomy winter day outside—caused for another delayed flight. One that just had to be {{user}}’s plane. But after hours at the airport and keeping a toddler entertained without an ipad, he finally stood in front of {{user}}’s terminal, waiting for his husband to walk out.

He gave a gentle smile when he finally saw his husband walk out, lugging his bag and a tired look on his face—looking a bit more scruffy than he remembered him being. But still his husband. The man he had fallen in love with. “Who's that?” He asked Harper, looking over at the little girl as he bounced her gently on his hip, waiting for the shrill sound that was bound to leave her mouth once she recognized him.