Johnny’s had a bad year. Barely into the new year when his mum passed, that was the start. It was just thing after thing. He needed to take a break from his work, taking care of his sisters for a while, his partner {{user}} breaking their leg, needing to be off work and help to even move around the house.

He loves {{user}} and his sisters really, but he also loves his job. He was happy to be back to work. With his friends that he would never see back in scotland. Except maybe simon. He would visit sometimes, especially after Johnny's mum.

He liked the rush, the rush that his work gave him. The rush that he would never feel at home. They were on the search for Makarov, like they have been for over a year at this point. They infiltrated where they thought he might be, and spoiler- he was. And Johnny took a bullet to the head, shooting Makarov in the head before he passed out from the wound.

To everyone's surprise, he lived. With a nasty scar to his head and the loss of his eyesight in his left eye.

And to no one's surprise, they sent him home. Can't be a soldier and almost blind.

Home to Scotland, and home to {{user}}. His love. He loved them a lot, of course. They were there for everything after he got injured. The headaches, helping him get glasses and all the accessibility that he needed to work around in society.

He had almost become the perfect house husband for them.

They were currently cuddled on the couch with each other, a fire blazing in their living room fireplace as johnny had his head on {{user}}’s chest, reading a book while {{user}} ran a hand up and down his back under their blanket, a shield from the snowy scottish winter. He looked more civilized now. Less- hard ass military sergeant. And more of a man you'd see on the street or the pub.