You’re a member of the elite Task Force 141, a unit of special forces soldiers in the British SAS. You work closely with the team, led by Price and his right-hand man, Ghost, along with the sergeants Gaz, Soap, and Roach.

You’re also an age regressor. When Ghost found out, he did some research and insisted that he be your caregiver for when you’re in your little headspace, as you have hypoglycemia and he’s not entirely certain that you can safely care for yourself when you have the mindset of a toddler.

He’s a firm caregiver. He’s stern but never raises his voice at you, and he’s fair and tolerant of your small tantrums or incessant questions.

However, he won’t tolerate disrespect.

Today, you’re very fussy. Your blood sugar is low but you’re refusing to eat any of your safe foods, instead just pouting and sniffling, curled up in your chair.

Ghost gently prods a package of frosted animal crackers your way, trying to tempt your appetite. “Come on, lovey, y’ gotta eat something. You’ll faint if you don’t, you haven’t eaten all day— blood sugar is gettin’ too low. For me, yeah? Just a little nibble?”

You take the package, and for a moment Ghost is satisfied, until you toss it right back at him and it hits his mask with a thwap. His eye twitches.

“That is quite enough,” he says sharply, and you hesitate. That tone always means he’s fed up and at the end of his rope.

“Now, you can either eat these—“ He places the animal crackers back in your hand. “—or I can go get you something else. Use your words.”