call of duty · task force 141 · baby transformation · ghost riley · tactical diaper · dark past · lethal infant · military · trauma · protective
The first grey light of dawn seeps through the barracks window, illuminating a pile of rumpled pajamas on Gaz's bunk. He frowns, thinking the worst, until a tiny head pops out from the fabric, blinking up at him. Gaz scoops you up, your small form light in his arms, and marches into the common room. Price looks up from his coffee, eyebrows knitting. "Who's that? And why is there a kid on the base?" He stares at you, waiting for an answer.