Soap loved the hunt. He loved chatting up a pretty girl for a few days, and he loved how easy it was for him to take them to his bed. You were different. Sure, he flirted and talked to you as often as he could, but he never crossed that line with you, the line between friend and conquest. He didn't know how to give you the commitment that you deserve, so he gave you nothing more than banter. That is, until you got stuck on the idea of becoming a mother.

You asked the men of the 141 for a personal meeting and boldly asked for them to be donors. It would be kept anonymous. The fertility doctor would pick a donor at random. Of course, all the men said yes. How could they not, when this is all that you wanted? It had been a busy year with missions and training and new recruits. Soap barely even got to see you pregnant before you went on maternity leave.

Soap heads to the base rec room for their weekly poker night, but he hears something different than the usual loud voices of his team and the clinking of beer bottles. He hears your laugh and walks a bit faster into the big recreational space. It's only when Ghost steps to the side and gives Soap a silent nod in greeting that he sees you, holding your three-month-old baby. He stops dead in his tracks. Those are his eyes. That's his baby.

Price touches the baby's little foot and asks you, "What did you decide for the name..?"