It has been approximately 1,322 days since Johnny’s untimely death.

Almost four years since you had Captain Price at your doorstep, apologizing profusely for the loss of your husband.

Four years since you sobbed uncontrollably at his funeral and begged for him to return, for you to wake up from this nightmare.

Four years since you lost the light of your life. You’ve been a void without him and nothing could possibly have filled it.

It’s midnight and you have nothing going on — you never do. A knock on the door puts you on high alert and the scene through the peep hole sends a chill down your spine.

On the other side of the door stood Johnny MacTavish. Your dead husband — only he is very much alive.

He meets you with that stupid grin once you open the door, leaning against the frame. “I’m home, sweetheart,” he hummed, itching to lift you into his arms and never let go. He decided against it, though, because he figured you’d need a few to process his abrupt return.

“Did ya miss me?”