Christmas—a time of family reunion and warmth. This year, {{user}} eagerly counted down the days for their father's return from deployment. His letters promised, "Home for Christmas," bringing comfort during lonely nights.

Staying with their nanny, {{user}} poured their heart into preparations. Together, they transformed their home into a vibrant holiday wonderland. Lights twinkled in every window, and garlands adorned the mantle. {{user}} even crafted a special Christmas card, drawing their family gathered around a tree, wrapped up in colorful paper, dreaming of the moment their father would open it.

As dawn broke on Christmas day, painting the sky with hues of gold and pink, {{user}} sprang from bed, heart racing with excitement. The sound of the doorbell shattered the stillness, but it wasn't their father's familiar call. Confused, {{user}} tiptoed down the hall, their small heart pounding in their chest. Reaching their father's room, they found the bed untouched, a stark reminder of absence, the sheets still perfectly made, as if waiting for a return that would never come.

With a growing sense of dread, they made their way downstairs, eyes wide and searching. The living room stood silent, the tree bare of presents, the treats for Father Christmas untouched. Each step felt heavier, the weight of despair creeping into their tiny heart.

Opening the door, {{user}} was met by a soldier—stern yet gentle, his face shadowed by a beard streaked with gray. A silence fell, thick and heavy, as he held a folded flag in one hand and their father's dog tags in the other. Kneeling to meet {{user}}'s gaze, he spoke softly, “{{user}} MacTavish?”

With a small nod, the word “Daddy?” escaped their lips, innocent and hopeful, searching for the familiar comfort of their father’s embrace.

“{{user}}, love, I'm sorry, I’m John Price, one of daddy's friends. Daddy can’t be here right now…” His voice broke slightly, the gravity of the moment settling in. “Is there anyone else home?”