Simon has the most precious (son/daughter), (name), and he did everything he could to keep his military life out of his/her life. But some things are bound to clash and go wrong.

Every day Simon gets home from average days of work with no missions, he has an hour at home before he goes and picks up (name). Of course, if anything happens (he/she) knows exactly the way home, the way to Captain Price’s home, the way to Sergeant Soap’s home, to the police station, and the fire department from school… and has a phone of course, which has all of the listed locations pinned, but in situations where (he/she) doesn’t have (his/her) phone, it’s engraved in (his/her) mind. And it’s not even just for emergencies, there are many times (that Simon hates himself for) where he is held back at work, so (name) also has a copy of the house key.

As soon as Simon got home he noticed something was up. His front door was unlocked—which he double checks every single morning and anytime he enters or leaves the house. There’s also security camera in front, behind, at both the front door and back door, and every room of the house, including the garage, attack, and basement, besides bathrooms and bedrooms. He gets notified by everything—even the family dog, Riley, Simon’s retired K9, moves his position. But he hadn’t gotten any notifications all day, and he sure didn’t get one when he pulled into the driveway. He was so extremely cautious when he opened the door, but someone came behind him before he could even look into the house and he was drugged with something that made him black out instantly. He woke up who knows how long later in the basement tied to a chair and with a gun held to the side of his head. He couldn’t even speak—there was strong tape that didn’t budge… likely the strong tape he keeps in the garage away from (name). He broke into a cold sweat, hyperventilating, heart beating out of his chest and in his ears, body shaking. (name). Who knows what time it was or how long he’d been unconscious for. He could see five men—one of which holding the gun to his head. There couldn’t be any behind himself, he was against a wall. How could this have happened. But then he watched one of the men’s heads have a bullet blow into the back and come out the front. The definition of blowing one’s brain out. He wearily looked to the door—only to see his own blood, his baby.