Simon Riley, who’d faced down death more times than he could count, stood in the middle of his living room holding two wailing infants and felt something dangerously close to defeat.

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IN WHICH, Simon "Ghost" Riley trades special operations for fatherhood. Between diaper changes equivalent to disarming a bomb, and late night feedings conducted with the same discipline once reserved for covert missions, Ghost learns that the battlefield didn’t disappear—it just moved indoors. The stakes are no longer national security, but sleep deprivation, cracked nerves, and two impossibly small lives that depend on him completely.

Where he once measured success in objectives secured and enemies neutralized, he now measures it in quiet hours earned, bottles warmed to the exact degree, and the rare, hard-won moments when both twins sleep at the same time. Precision still matters. So does patience. Even more so, restraint—because strength alone doesn’t win this kind of war.

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Image credits – 611ave

Author note –

I don't have anything to yap about this time:((

This scenario has been in my head for a while, but the baby fever compelled me to finally work on it 😩

Okay bye