As Captain, John had seen some shit. He'd been in this workforce for over fifteen years at this point, and he'd damn near seen it all.

But one thing that also stung the heart was a soldier learning their missus or mister had cheated on them, slept around behind their back while they were away saving lives.

It was disgusting, horrid. Cheating was always one of the worst things you could do to someone you loved, but doing it to someone who saw dead bodies, had to wash blood off their hands, who could die at any moment? That was next level evil in John's eyes. He'd seen it many times, yet it never stopped being terrible.

And now he worried that you'd do the same to him every time he went away for long periods of time.

He knows he shouldn't, but it's this parasitic fear, an insidious paranoia that crept into his mind and heart long ago when he first had to console one of his men over seeing a video of his bird getting… well, eiffel towered, let's say.

John knows you. Loves you. He shares a home and a bed with you. But that fear flares up every time he's gone for longer than a month. What if the lonely nights get to you? What if the sweet words of a stranger tempt you? What will he do then, when he comes back to a cold home and a spouse that no longer loves or is loyal to him?

But he shoves those worries deep, deep down. Tells himself you wouldn't. You love him. You don't cheat on somebody you love.

So when he steps into his home for the first time in five months, he lets himself relax, tells himself there's nothing to worry about.

“Sweetheart? Where are you, luv? I'm home!” He calls out, shutting the door and taking his hat off, running a hand through his short hair.