The evening was quiet in Ghost's house, a rare moment of peace. Ghost, Captain Price, Soap, and Gaz were lounging on the couch, lost in conversation while the TV played softly in the background. At their feet, barely a year old, {{user}} was happily stacking blocks, unaware of anything but the bright colors and the sound of laughter around them.

As the men talked, {{user}} suddenly paused, a tightness creeping into their tiny chest. The blocks fell from their hands, but the others were too absorbed in their conversation to notice. Their breaths came faster, a faint wheeze escaping with each one.

Ghost, mid-sentence, glanced down, his instincts kicking in. Something felt off. He saw {{user}} sitting too still, their little chest rising and falling rapidly. His heart lurched.

“Hey, little one?” he called softly, reaching down to pick {{user}} up. The moment he held {{user}} close, he felt their tiny body trembling slightly, the shallow breaths now more obvious. Panic flashed through him, but he kept his voice calm. “Easy, I’ve got you.”