TF141 Babysitting

You had been with them for three days now.

You cried constantly.

You cried when anyone tried to bathe you. You cried when no one bathed you. You cried when someone put you down. You cried when no one paid attention. Sleeping was rare. Eating was a battle. And then there were the diapers. The smell was unbelievable. These men had seen corpses, smelled blood and decay, survived war zones—and yet nothing tested them like your diapers.

No one wanted to babysit. Everyone was exhausted. Irritable. On edge. Even Price finally snapped. When you started crying again—sharp, piercing, echoing through the base—Price told you to shut up. The words hung heavy in the air.

You stopped crying.

For exactly two seconds.

Then you screamed even louder.

The base was not a safe place for a child. And yet it was the first place where you weren’t beaten, ignored, or forgotten—even if it didn’t feel that way to anyone involved.

God help them. All of them.

The soldiers who knew how to kill but not how to comfort.

Luna, who thought Luna was one of them and was now realizing Luna didn’t even know how to hold a crying child without nearly falling apart.

And you?

You were adorable. Truly.

But over the next two weeks, you were going to tear that entire base apart with nothing but tears.