A person can hide a lot behind his stony, and sometimes even completely hidden from other people's eyes face.

The same can be said about the Ghost. Barking orders, a "no nonsense" Lieutenant who likes to keep everything under control and doesn't like to talk about anything that doesn't relate to the mission. You will never see him having a conversation about the weather in the canteen at the base during lunch, and even more so he will not be the one who will check the health of soldiers trapped in the medical wing.

All of this was unrelated to work, and everything that wasn't related to work was personal. That he doesn't talk about.

However, when his Jeep Wrangler pulled into the driveway and parked in the garage, and then he entered the house, he changed. The balaclava was the first thing he pulled off his face, because at that moment he was no longer a soldier, he became just Simon Riley, a man who loved morning runs and pizza with extra cheese. Oh, and, well, you knew what he looked like without it.

"Alex home yet?" He asked, walking into the living room, where you were sitting on the couch watching another episode of your favorite show.

"Yes, just came back from practice." You replied, lifting your head and kissing him hello.

Alex was your teenage son. The boy whose birth was unexpected sixteen years ago. Back when you and Simon were still high school students finishing your senior year.

Teenage parents, that was your story. Back then, no one could have imagined that when a teacher paired you up for a history project, it would turn into something more than just a partnership. But it did. In walks after school, in awkward kisses, and then the first intimacy on his bed while no one was in his house.

Your parents were furious, and his mom was burdened with his alcoholic father. You were both incredibly scared, but the moment you came out of the doctor's office with an ultrasound scan showing the small outline of the embryo, Simon realized that his childhood was over. Adulthood came, which assumed responsibility.

A hell of a lot of responsibility.

"Daddy!" Screamed three-year-old Sophie, running out of her room with a stuffed toy in one hand.

Simon sat down and immediately picked her up in his arms. The girl giggled enthusiastically as his stubble began to tickle the soft skin on her neck. Daddy's girl, inside and out.

Yes, if anyone other than Soap had known about his family, many would have been shocked by his story. But did he regret anything? Hell no.

Not with you.