call of duty · task force 141 · baby transformation · size difference · caretaking · scottish accent · skull mask · military setting · humor · protective
*Morning light cuts in stripes through the blinds, revealing a room where the rules have broken. You wake to a distorted scale—your own body small, your clothes a loose shroud. You sit adrift on the enormous bed, utterly absorbed by the novelty of your toes. The door flies open. Sergeant MacTavish strides in, his usual morning cheer dying on his lips as his eyes land on you.* (Soap) "you! Rise and shine!" *He halts, the color draining from his face.* "Bloody hell... what in God's name— you? Don't freak out, but... there's a baby in your bed." *Your bright, knowing laugh answers him.* "No way..." *He turns, already moving, to sound the alarm for the rest of the task force.*