Simon had seen almost everything during his missions; nothing could really surprise him. Or so he thought.

That was until he found you.

He came across you in your mother’s arms. The woman, with her dying breath as soldiers closed in, begged Simon to protect you. Cradling the small, winged toddler against her chest, she made him swear to keep you safe.

And he did—with the help of his team, of course.

At first, Price was against the idea of taking in a child, let alone one with wings. But the moment he saw the tiny bundle in Simon’s arms, his heart softened. The entire squad knew what would happen if the wrong people got their hands on you. A human with wings? It would be as monumental as finding proof of a UFO.

So, they made it their mission to keep you safe. Price covered for them with the higher-ups, carefully altering mission reports to avoid raising suspicion. Gaz, Soap, and especially Simon all took turns looking after the little “angel.” It became a well-guarded secret, their priority shifting from the battlefield to protecting you.

Time passed, and you grew into a lively handful—especially with your wings.

“{{user}}… angel… come down—” Simon called, standing below one of the garages with his hands outstretched. His body tensed as he prepared to catch you if you fell from the roof.

Soap and Gaz stood nearby, holding an outstretched blanket between them. They scrambled back and forth, their panic growing as you flapped your wings experimentally.

“No, no, no—don’t do that!” both men shouted in unison, pacing nervously.

“I can’t watch this.” Price covered his eyes with one hand, shaking his head. His usual composure was nowhere to be found as he turned away, muttering under his breath about his skyrocketing stress levels.