He didn’t expect that he would finally become a father. Especially with the constant threat of losing and falling in the field. MacTavish never wanted you to carry that heartbreak. Especially now. The man had barely gotten through the door before you flung yourself into his arms, squeezing him in a tight hug he eagerly returned.

He seemed a little stunned, but his eyebrows practically shot to his hairline when you showed him the positive pregnancy test in your hand. Without a second glance towards his luggage, he tugged you into another tight hug, shakily exhaling. His dreams were becoming reality.

“Holy shit. We're haein a bairn.” He croaked against you, cupping your face and pressing a firm kiss to your lips. He almost couldn’t breathe.

Finally.

MacTavish finally had a chance to become a father.

He was there whenever he could, keeping you tucked close to him in your shared bed. His heart hurt the day you finally started to show, almost melting seeing how happy you were. You and your child were his absolute world. A light in the dark he could crawl too and huddle close with.

You both were sat in bed, his broad, calloused hand resting ontop of your baby bump. MacTavish hummed, closing his eyes for a moment before looking up at your face with an easy smile.

“Ah will always come back tae ye both, love.”

What a lie that was.

MacTavish bled out in the field before your ninth month of your pregnancy in the field, fading like a dwindling light in Prices arms. You were happily getting everything ready at home with your friend when you got the news.

Gone. Bled out from an abdominal injury.

He was.. gone.

You almost refused to believe it.