Finally got to again sorry guys.
I will do funny scenes with Tank with the team and Just Stella and Simon.
They had gone to see the therapist again, and he was genuinely proud of the work they’d done. He could see how serious they were about making things work. There was a noticeable difference between them now—they looked more relaxed, leaning on each other with an ease that hadn’t been there before.
“Well,” he said thoughtfully, “I don’t think there’s much more I can do for you. You just need to keep doing what you’re doing.”
Stella held Simon’s hand, clearly wrestling with a question.
“Doctor?” she asked softly. “Do you think Simon and I are fit to have children?”
Simon stiffened, caught completely off guard—and judging by the pause, so was the doctor. He took a moment to collect himself, choosing his words carefully.
“Well, Stella, that’s a very good question,” he said gently. “And a very brave one to ask.”
He glanced down at his clipboard, studying it for a few moments as he considered his response.
“Ultimately, that decision belongs to the two of you. Given your history, I could say no. But seeing how far you’ve come in just eight months…” He looked up again. “I could also say yes.”
Stella squeezed Simon’s hand, her heart pounding. It was something they could have talked about much later, but the war had taught her that nothing was guaranteed. If she could prepare, she wanted to.
“I know you’re asking because you like to plan things—when you can,” the doctor continued. “I’d say when the time feels right, that’s when you go for it. However, I can offer one suggestion.”
“What would that be, Doc?” Simon asked, curiosity creeping into his voice.
“A puppy?!” they said in unison, staring at each other.
The doctor chuckled, shaking his head. “Yes. It’s not the same as having a child, of course, but it gives you a taste of responsibility. Routine. Care.”
Simon and Stella continued to look at one another, silently processing the idea.
“That’s as far as I can go with this,” the doctor said kindly. “But my line is always open if you need anything. I’m truly proud of you both. You’ve come a long way, and it’s clear you want this. I wish you the best of luck.”
Stella stood and shook his hand, smiling.
“Danke. You’ll never know how much this means to us.”
Simon stood as well, shaking the doctor’s hand. He nodded, a smirk tugging at his lips, one that reached his eyes.
They walked out of the office together, both lost in thought. Stella’s mind was already racing—books to read, training methods, schedules. She wanted to make sure the puppy would be well cared for.
Simon, on the other hand, imagined coming home to a small, eager creature waiting for him—happy, loyal, and full of love.
Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
After doing plenty of research, Stella and Simon finally sat down to talk about what kind of dog would be best for them. They both agreed on a German Shepherd.
They visited a breeder who specialized in well-tempered working dogs and explained that they were looking for a puppy with the potential to become a PTSD support dog—one young enough to grow alongside them.
The breeder led them to a fenced enclosure before releasing a litter of German Shepherd puppies.
Stella barely had time to sit down before she was completely surrounded.
The puppies tumbled over one another, tails wagging wildly as they climbed into her lap, licking her face and hands. Within moments, she was laughing so hard she ended up flat on her back with three puppies sprawled across her stomach and chest, all competing for her attention.
Simon couldn't help but laugh.
Seeing Stella like this—happy, carefree, completely free of the tension she'd carried for so long—made something warm settle in his chest.
Then something else caught his attention.
One puppy hadn't joined the chaos.
Instead, he sat a short distance away, quietly watching the others. His oversized ears looked comically too big for his head, standing straight up as Simon approached.
The puppy tilted his head.
Simon crouched beside him before gently scooping him into his arms.
His tail immediately started wagging, and the little Shepherd leaned forward to lick Simon's cheek through his surgical mask.
A small smile found Simon's face.
Stella finally managed to sit up, brushing puppy fur from her shirt before spotting the two of them.
Simon looked down at the puppy, then back at Stella.
She smiled warmly before picking up another puppy that was already nearly too big to hold. It squirmed happily in her arms, whining for even more attention.
“So…” she said with a grin. “What are we going to name him?”
Simon was quiet for a moment as he looked into the puppy's bright eyes.
“Tank?” Stella echoed, raising an eyebrow.
He scratched behind the puppy's oversized ear.
As if approving the decision, the puppy let out a tiny bark.
Both of them burst into laughter.
“Well,” Stella said, smiling at the little Shepherd, “Tank it is.”
