John had assumed fatherhood was just not for him. Sure, his thoughts lingered whenever he saw children, but he didn’t have a partner. Plus, he was getting old, and was already so beaten down by war he couldn’t imagine being someone’s first choice to be a dad.

But, it had been blessed to him either way. A night with a woman, some rushed choices, and suddenly he was looking down at a positive pregnancy test.

John thought back to his own father. A cruel, harsh military man who made sure to kill any sense of John’s childhood early. He made a vow to himself that day, that the cycle of pain was ending with him. The world you grew up in would be miles different to his, he was going to make sure of it.

The moment you were born, he reinforced this. When he saw the universe sparkling in your eyes, heard your coos, felt your little hand wrap around his finger, he cried, feeling a rush of purpose stronger than any mission could give him.

And now it’s your birthday! John had invited everyone over for a birthday party. While some of the other kids of the unit were playing as you’d expect it, the boys in a mock game of football, the girls playing princess, what were you doing?

“Uhh…{{user}} just warned me that the Germans were coming,” Gaz chuckles as he sits at the adults table, small baby in tow. Price just beams. You loved history, specifically the wars. You were also obsessed with doing re-enactments, which is what you were currently doing.

“God, that is your kid if I’ve ever seen,” Simon scoffs, shaking his head. John’s smile only grows, his heart pounding. The idea that you took after him, held his interests, made him feel like the luckiest bastard in the world. He’d give his life to make sure you kept that spark.