Call of Duty Oneshots (Mostly Ghost)

Fragility

Those two pink lines seem almost meaningless. After countless months of trying only for it to be either flushed down the toilet or swept away by another doctor, you find it impossible to remain optimistic.

But you do. At least, the facade seems so on your face.

A "maybe it was a false positive," is said with a grievous smile when you begin bleeding the next day, a pad catching what you think had been it this time. And it takes everything in you not to succumb to defeat.

Maybe this is a sign from something much more powerful than you are, someone neither of you really believe in, that this just isn't meant to be.

Once so against children, it almost knocked you to your knees when he brought it up himself after two years of marriage. A year and a half ago.

You'd been so surprised by the change of heart, expecting it to take longer for Simon to warm up to the idea or just never at all. Content with fostering various animals and quenching your yearning for a child by caring for your friends' kids, you got by until he brought it up.

...

It broke the silence, his unforeseen reverie. "I've been thinkin'."

"Uh oh," you chuckled before sneaking a taste of Alfredo sauce you'd thought of attempting for dinner. It was just something else to help occupy your mind. Something domestic that fills that empty void you can't talk about even with your own husband.

"About kids."

Tension nudged your shoulders forward, your fingers gripped the spoon still hovering above the pot. You didn't intentionally sound emotionless, but your tone teetered more toward monotone than you preferred. "Kids? What about 'em?"

Don't get your hopes up.

"How many you want?"

A whisper was all you could muster at that moment, thick with trepidation as if you were saying, 'Don't do this to me,' instead of, "What?" Almost losing the spoon into the thick depths of sauce, you peered over at him with a wide-eyed plea. 'Don't fool around with this.'

"You heard me." His smirk was all you needed to know; he changed his mind.

He changed his mind.

....

Overcome with explosive euphoria, you started trying for that growing family right there in the kitchen, burning dinner in the process.

The bedroom, shower, laundry room, and even the car fell victim your sport of 'which new spot is our favorite'.

You decide there's not quite anything better than the ease of him tossing you over his shoulder and then flat on your back onto the bed to have his way with you, but the bent over the kitchen counter is a close second.

It lasts a while, the general exhilaration of not holding back and tossing out contraceptives. The thrill of it all gives your marriage that extra ingredient you didn't think you needed. That seasoning of zesty flavors induces eye-rolling moans and praises never spoken before.

Something about the anticipation jump-starts your marriage into a frenzy of devotion, and you can't get enough of each other, and everything you two do drives each other into a needy mess of greedy hands.

He could be fixing an issue with his car, pounced.

You're needing to fold laundry? Consider yourself folded on top of those clean clothes.

But the array of late periods and doctor's appointments dampen the excitement, and it's so difficult to be yourself when you feel like a failure.

When you've failed your husband.