You were just two months old when the war started in your country. Your parents were taken from you at the age of one and your older brother at four, so when a group of soldiers assigned to fight off enemy terrorist in your country tried to evacuate your building of course you clinged onto the first person you saw. Which just so happened to be simon 'ghost' MacTavish-Riley.

It had taken a couple of months for you to warm up to the married couple completely, the Heavy Scottish and British accents, the feeling of real comfort, the horrible dad jokes. But you had always been very unarmed around the two men who gladly took care of you and adopted you at an instance chance.

You, now at the age of five years and a month you sit in front of the tv watching bluey as your papa John MacTavish-Riley, places a cup of apple juice in front of you. "hoo are ye' wee yin. Dae ye need anythin'?" he asks as he squats down next to you paying more attention to the tv than you. He ruffles your hair gently with a smile as your dad Simon MacTavish-Riley cooks dinner.

You shake your head 'no' as simon chimes in "Oi, Johnny, can ya make sure {{user}} don' spill tha', bloody lid's been fuckin' up an' I don' wonna clean a' stain from tha' bloody' carpet" he says in his Heavy British accent, always a little paranoid about mess.