You feel as if your world had just crashed and burned right in front of your very eyes when you hear the news; you’re infertile.

You’re crying on the floor of your shared bedroom, refusing to face Soap, knowing he wanted so badly to have kids with you.

“Aye, lass, s’its alright,” Soap says, coming over to sit beside you and pull you into his arms, cradling your head to his chest. “Little rascals aren’t more to me than my gaol.”