Chapter Text
You're dating one Simon Riley, a man with a cold disposition but a caring, warm heart beneath it all. He denies it, says he's a mean bastard that's cold as ice, but you don't see it, don't let his words sway you. You know he's good. You wouldn't love him if he wasn't.
Things have been going well for a year now. He's moved in with his clothes in the drawer, toothbrush beside yours, a designated coffee mug in the kitchen. The nights are spent warmed in his embrace, the days with scattered moments together when he's not on deployment. It's nice. Perfect.
That's why you're so happy coming home to tell him. You've seen the way he softens at the sight of children, and now that the doctor has confirmed your suspicion, you're eager to tell him.
You open the front door, and something is wrong.
His shoes aren't by the front door. His coat and umbrella neither. The air feels off. Slowly, you look around, feeling nervous as you notice the missing things here and there. Panic strikes you, and you rush upstairs.
Gone.
His clothes, his devices, his charger– his toothbrush, and other essentials are as well. Even the fucking mug is gone.
You stand alone in your home that had previously housed two, cradled you and him in a domestic manner. Like a family, almost. But the air is colder now. The house less full.
It would've housed three in less than a year. But now he's gone and it's back to one.
You stand alone, shaken, empty.
Alone.
(Even the pictures were cut, omitting the other person in them. Even in them, you're now alone)
...
A year goes by. You moved. A nice, quaint neighbourhood. A place Simon Riley could never be found. A place where the sun shines warmly and the grass is green and your daughter won't feel the chill of the city air that her father loved so much.
If only it warmed you half as much.
The sun is blinding. The grass pricks at your skin when you walk barefoot in the yard.
And everyone is so fucking cheerful.
You're tired, you realise. You love your daughter, don't regret having her (never), but you're so, so tired. Your imbalanced and heightened hormones don't help either. You just... ever since he fled like a ghost in the night, you've felt empty. Empty and alone.
Your daughter is a baby. She can't give you the comfort you need. She can't even crawl yet. But you push on. For her.
Over time, it gets a little better. The other parents (single parents) are happy to welcome you into their group, never prying, just...
They're nice.
Two years go by. You're happier now. Your daughter is walking, beginning to talk. You've got friends. A life. It should be enough, but...
You want. Yearn. You miss the safe enclosure of those warm, strong arms. Miss being able to rely on someone. Your new friends insist you meet someone, go on a date, maybe get laid. It helps ease the pain, they say, all knowing in their own ways.
You haven't been to a bar in years, yet you allow them to drag you along, relax a bit, unwind. Look around, seeking someone for just a while.
A man catches your eye.
Tall, dark, dangerous; scars lining most of his skin. He has a nice voice, warm eyes.
"I'm Mace." He introduces, looking you over with a gleam. "And what's yours, sweetheart?"
Mace is warm, gentle. When you tell him in a shy tone you haven't had anyone since before your baby, he's understanding, calling you mama/papa, kissing all over, leaving tingles in his wake.
You don't expect to see him again, but you do. You're shopping with your daughter when he spots you, greeting you. He smiles at your daughter, cooing at how cute she is. He helps you with the rest of your shopping, even buying a toy for her.
"I can't–" You begin, but he shushes you, smiling.
"It's a teddy, sweetheart." He says, your daughter's excited giggles filling the air as she plays with the frog toy he bought her. "Plus, that lil smile is all the payment I need."
It's a lot. It's nothing. It shouldn't mean so much, but it does. You give him your number, a little awkwardly, but he takes it in stride, promising he'll call you.
Months go by. You go on dates again. Your daughter loves him.
She calls him daddy one day, and just like that, Mace decides he ain't never leaving. He moves in soon after, thinks about getting a ring. What? You think he's going to leave his daughter fatherless? Leave you without a husband? Nah, not him. Mace ain't that type of guy.
Another few years pass. Your daughter gets a brother, and despite the differences, they clearly love each other. Mace never treats one better than each other.
Another thing is that he never asked about your ex. You've offered to, but he says he doesn't need to know. If that bastard left you while pregnant, that's all he needs to know.
Especially since Mace already figured it out.
He'd know his old friend's eyes anywhere. His nose, his laugh. Mace's daughter has a lot of Simon in her. It would be hard to miss. Especially with the way you reacted the first time you saw him in mask.
"Sorry." You say, swallowing. "It's just... my ex also..."
Had a skull mask. Yeah. Mace knows. What he didn't know was what a prick Ghost became since he last saw him.
Mace swears that if he ever sees that British prick again, he's going to break his already fucked up nose.
And wouldn't you know it, he gets his opportunity soon enough. KorTac and SpecGru are assigned to work on the same mission. The 141 specifically.
At first, Mace doesn't say a thing about you. He greets Simon, asks what he's been up to.
"Nothing much." Ghost says. "You?"
Mace chuckles, feeling a pang of anger. Nothing much, he says. "Married." He says casually. "And two kids." He says, proud. His fellow operators groan and mention how he won't shut up about his family.
It stops there for a bit. They've got a mission to go on. Work comes first, always.
It's only afterwards that he gets his chance anyway. The guys all want to wind down with a few drinks and a game. Mace grins.
"How 'bout 'never have I ever'?" He suggests. They agree.
He doesn't go for it immediately, waiting. When it's his go, he says, "Never have I ever gone into debt."
Horangi groans, and they all laugh as he takes a shot.
When it's his turn again, he thinks for a moment. "Never have I ever... been in love."
A few grumbles. Most drink. Someone says that's a cheap question.
On his third turn, he strikes.
"Never have I ever abandoned my partner.”
Nobody drinks. Mace raises a brow. He looks at Ghost.
"What?" The man asks, staring back; Mace can see his shoulders tense slightly.
"You not gonna drink, Simon?" He asks. The room is quiet, everyone watching with interest, an uncomfortable energy in the air. "I mean... c'mon. Own up to it." He says, feeling the righteous anger on your behalf.
This is who you let into your heart. This is his daughter's father. This is who abandoned you without even leaving a note.
Ghost takes a breath. "Not sure what you mean."
Mace hums, finishing his glass and opening his phone. "I think you do." He says before showing the man he once looked up to a photo of his family.
You, smiling, happy in Mace's arms. Your daughter (Simon's daughter) grinning, mid laugh as she tries reaching her brother who's about to cry wolf to his parents, already reaching up to tug on his father's shirt.
The room is dead silent.
Mace stands, sliding his phone into pocket. "Well, I'm done for tonight. I've got an early plane to catch. It's my daughter's birthday tomorrow, and I plan on being there bright and early.”