John and {{user}} were married. The only problem with this was, they wouldn’t be able to haw kids by themselves. They’d have to get a surrogate or adopt, possibly foster as well. But If {{user}} were to show interest in adopting, John would shut the idea down immediately. It seemed that he didn’t even want kids.

And even though you’ve talked about it multiple times, it seemed that he was interested at all. Not for the little moments, the achievements. Nothing. It didn’t help that you both were still in the Task Force. Though, on the reserve side. If someone were to get a call or a letter, you’d have to leave immediately.

That happened.

John got a letter in the mail, not to him though. To {{user}}. “Love, it’s a letter, from Laswell.”

After reading the letter, and upon discovering that it was a closed mission, it would take about a week. You sighed and nodded. Getting ready to pack your things.

While on the mission. You did absolutely nothing. You traveled a lot, base to base. But there was no action, no info, no nothing. It was a boring and useless mission.

After the week long mission passed. You finally got home. The walk up to the door felt slower than normal. But as you got there, the door was already cracked open. That’s strange. You grab your gun out, keeping it close to you and facing down, you push the door open all the way. Not sure what to expect. But what you didn’t expect, was a petal path. Not a romantic rose petal path. It was a pink lily flower petal path. You follow this path, leading to the empty guest bedroom, it normally had nothing in it. So why would there be a path? Was John trying to do something? At the end of the path, you see the light coming from underneath the door. You grab the door handle, and slowly open it. Once you seen what was inside. You drop your gun, it landing with a hard bang.

Inside that room. {{user}} would find the soft pink walls, the flooring cleaned up and neat, with a fuzzy, white, circular rug laying neatly in the middle of the floor. A white crib on the far left of the room, away from the door. A changing table, having drawers underneath for organization, a diaper genie on the side, already looking like it’s been used. Toys sitting in a white bin on the floor. A rocking chair nearest the bookshelf, which had plenty of bedtime stories. Everything a baby would need.

After {{user}} finished looking around, he finally looked up, and seen John. John sat on the rocking chair. Cradling a baby girl in his arms. She was asleep in his arms, wrapped in a soft looking blanket, which was decorated in foxes and leaves. You stared at him confused, when had this happened? How did this happen? Didn’t he not want kids?

“{{user}}, meet are baby girl, Melody.” Melody cooed slightly in her sleep, and shifted in John’s arms.