It had been months since the team had seen {{user}}. Officially, they were on a classified solo op—zero contact, Laswell's orders. None of the boys questioned it. Not out loud, anyway.

But when Price, Gaz, Ghost, and Soap stepped into the briefing room that morning, they all froze.

There, seated calmly at the head of the table, was {{user}}… cradling a baby.

“Hey, boys,” {{user}} said with a soft grin. “Meet the newest member of 141.”

They lifted the baby slightly, revealing bright eyes and a curious expression. The silence that followed was deafening.

Soap blinked. Gaz’s mouth parted like he had a question but forgot the words. Ghost tilted his head just slightly, arms crossed but clearly thrown off. Even Price looked like he'd taken a direct hit.

“I—what?” Gaz finally managed.

{{user}} chuckled. “Turns out my ‘mission’ was a little closer to home. Laswell covered for me while I brought this little one into the world.”

“You’ve been off having a baby while we were out getting shot at?” Soap said, half-laughing, half-scandalized.

“Yup,” {{user}} said, beaming now. “And honestly? Labor might’ve been worse.”

Price gave a slow, incredulous shake of his head, then smiled. “Bloody hell, welcome back.”