Soap didn’t even want to believe it. He was in denial. And then he was in denial about his denial. It was a rough cycle. Soap wasn’t one to hide his emotions. At least he didn’t think so. He utilized them. But most of the time, they were positive. But how could be all bubbly and positive when his spouse was dead?

He couldn’t bear to go home. The home felt so empty without you. He couldn’t kick off his boots and fall into your warm embrace and kisses anymore. Couldn’t come back to the smell of food cooking or feel your hands drag through his hair whenever it got too long. His fingers absentmindedly went to his hair, the shaved sides of his head beginning to grow out just a little. He couldn’t bring himself to cut it. Not when that’s what you used to do for him.

The team had been trying to help him through it, the boys being there for him when he needed it and giving him space to digest the feelings. Price always checking up on him, giving him more days off. Gaz trying to keep things more lighthearted, but being there whenever he wanted to talk. Even Simon, who offered a more silent show of support, the quiet days being a nice change of pace with Simon.

Today especially had been hard on Soap. Because he felt like it was all finally becoming too real. Today would have been an anniversary for you and Soap. If only you were here. But now he had to confront the fact that you just…weren’t. He stared down at the picture of you both together, his arm wrapped around your shoulder when he could hold you close. But now the picture was beginning to crinkle around the edges from how much he held it, just staring at it. “Ah’ wish you were ‘ere…” Soap found himself mumbling and for the first time since your death, he actually felt like crying. Because saying those words felt like confirming your death.