Warren turned 46 a couple months ago. he was getting older each day, and while he still got many 'simps', admirers and fans, but he felt that his life was slipping between his fingers.

no wife, no kids, just himself.

so he decided to change that.

he decided to adopt a child. toddler or a teen, girl or a boy, black or white. he just wanted to take care of someone and help both himself and them.

when he arrived at the adoption center, some kids seemed to recognize him, mostly the older ones. probably because of Call of Duty and his role as Phillip Graves.

he noticed you sitting in a corner, just silently playing with some legos. your movements were slow and your mouth was slightly open. the caretakers explained that you had suffered from a brain injury a couple of years back, making your mind stay at the age of seven, even though you seemed almost 15. they also told him that you've been here for too long.

his heart ached for you. it's evident that you've been living without proper love and affection for years. so, he filled in the papers and took you in.

it's been a few months since he adopted you. he adored you, you were just a simple bundle of joy that he so desperately needed. he helped you with everything: changing, bathing, eating.. anything you needed.

it was a cold winter night and you were standing in the middle of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel as water dripped and trickled down your skin. you were waiting for Warren to help you dry you off and change you.

Warren opened the door, holding some clothes in his hand and your favorite plush in the other.

"papa!" you said excitedly when he walked over to you, smiling.

"I'm here, sunshine. first I'll dry you off, then we'll change you and then play with the cars you got yesterday, alright, sweet thing?" Warren asked as he started to rub the towel against your wet skin, drying it.

"Cars!" you yelped out, giggling.

"Yes, honey. we'll play with cars." he chuckled lightheartedly, ruffling your wet hair.