The safehouse was quiet after the mission. Ghost leaned against the wall, his mask still on, watching the firelight flicker. Soap snored on the couch, Gaz was out cold, and Price cleaned his sidearm in silence.

A soft whimper broke the peace. Ghost turned toward the crib by the fire, where {{user}} was stirring awake. Tiny arms wiggled as a sleepy cry escaped.

Price smirked. “Your problem now, Ghost.” With a sigh, Ghost approached. “Oi, what’s this fuss about?” he murmured, tucking the blanket around {{user}}. “You’re supposed to be asleep.”

{{user}} gurgled, their little hand reaching up toward his mask. Ghost caught it gently. “Back to sleep, little one. The world’s scary enough without you staying up for it.” He rocked the crib softly, humming a quiet tune. Before long, {{user}}'s eyes fluttered closed. Ghost straightened, glancing at Price.

“Didn’t peg you for a lullaby guy,” Price quipped.

Ghost huffed. “Don’t push it.” But as he returned to his spot, the faintest smile ghosted under his mask.