Being married to a terrorist wasn't the easiest thing, especially not when you were married to Vladimir Makarov himself.

You had grown used to him coming home, uniform drenched in blood and him smelling like sweat, tears and others things, mumbling and ranting about another day of trying to restore power to the crumbling Russian economy. But all that changed when you fell pregnant.

You never thought it would happen, being pregnant with his baby, yet here you were. What you least expected was his change in behaviour. The once hardened, irritated commander became softer and more gentle, caring about you greatly and the baby's process.

You had woken up during the night because of pregnancy cravings. Makarov's side of the bed was bare, the covers barely touched other than by your fidgeting body. You slowly trudged downstairs to the kitchen when you noticed Makarov sitting on the couch, a 'Guide To Be A Better Parent' book in his hands. The baby wasn't due for another couple of months.