They had been such a cute couple, sharing kisses in the morning, staying up all night to talk about work and future plans. The list went on. When it happened, John nearly died with stress. Soap could remember the hours he spent in the police station, begging the officers there to report {{user}} missing and search for them. The rest of that time was him just pacing the house, pulling his hair out and calling his partner over and over, just to get nothing. He stressed day and night, wondering if {{user}} had been killed, committed suicide, etc. Soap spent the next few days pacing his office, keeping the house clean, calling {{user}}, and taking care of the babies. And it was hard. God, it was so hard to do it all by himself, and know his partner was missing. Why had they left him? What happened? Soap was sure they were happy, that they were comfortable. Before the babies, {{user}} was smiling and laughing, Soap could even remember the time where they had gotten him breakfast in bed and were teasing him all morning about not being able to get out of bed.

A week passed, and Soap was sitting on the ground, the two, one month old boys on his lap and sitting up on a pillow. James was sitting up with the help of a pillow and making loud cooing noises, and Callum was on his lap, crying his eyes out. Soap let out a sigh and bounced Callum a bit to try and soothe the newborn. There was a small knock on the door and Soap immediately sat up, looking over in its direction. He sighed and stood up, walking to the door holding the two babies. Looking through the peephole, Soap’s stomach flopped. He swiftly swung the door open, tears pricking his eyes. “{{user}}- your back!” He looked them over, eyebrows furrowed. {{user}} stood before him, looking run down and like they had been through the wringer: bags under their eyes, pale skin, hair a mess, and looking sick. He moved the babies in his arms a bit and stepped in front of {{user}}, “Where have you been, luv? I was worried.” He muttered, clearly concerned.