Chapter Text
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“What in the ever loving fuck was that?!”
Shepherd barely bothered looking up from his paper work as Ghost walked in. He didn’t flinch when the SAS operator slammed the door shut after barging in. Shepherd simply looked up at the enraged lieutenant, eyebrow raised.
“Ah lieutenant, you’re back from the mission.” Shepherd spoke nonchalantly, calmly placing his pen down. “Good to see you in one piece.”
Correction: Barely in one piece. The man was drenched in blood (whose blood? Like Shepherd cared.) His arms and legs were covered in deep cuts and harsh bruises. Ghost was breathing heavily, his fists clenching in pure anger.
“You gave us shit intel.” The lieutenant starts, his voice teetering on the edge of shouting.
“Every single one of team bravo is dead.” Ghost grits out, his eyes are bloodshot behind his mask. “I barely made it to exfil.” Ghost’s voice is shaking from barely contained anger. He steps closer to the desk, pulling something out of his vest pocket;
“All for this bloody thing!” Ghost slams down a USB drive on the desk with such force that Shepherd’s cup holder tips over, spilling pens everywhere. Shepherd swears he hears the polished oak crack under the force.
Shepherd doesn’t flinch at the outburst, simply pursing his lips as he picks up the USB drive.
“It was for the greater cause, Lieutenant.” Shepherd explains as he places the USB in a secure container and pulls out a key for his drawer, unlocking the drawer with ease.
“Securing this particular data was time sensitive and the intel I gave you guaranteed it’d get here quickly.” Shepherd continues on “Of course, we calculated the risks…” The general drones on, placing the contained USB drive in the drawer and locking it back up. He then turns his attention back to Ghost, who's breathing is unsteady in unkempt anger. He simply faces the wrath fueled soldier, straightening up his posture. “...but I knew you’d at least make it back.” He finished with a shrug, Watching carefully for the lieutenant’s reaction.
Ghost was going to be sick. Of course Shepherd calculated the risk, He knew the base would be heavily guarded. Those soldiers, young soldiers with families waiting for them were just fodder. Meat shields….meat shields for him.
Bile threatened to spill out his bloodied mouth and flood his mask. He saw red.
“Y-You..” Ghost snarls, pulling out a hidden throwing knife. Already aiming right for Shepherd’s eye, he was going to make the bastard pay.
“…YOU SON OF A BIT-”
“Silencio ahora, pequeño.” ( Silence now, little one.)
Like a switch is flicked in his brain, Ghost immediately becomes fuzzy. His knees wobble as he stumbles to the ground, his knees meeting the hard floor with a heavy ‘ thud’
His throwing knife drops to the floor as well, the sharpened blade sticking into Shepherd’s expensive, carpeted floor. Ghost gasps and flinches away from the sharp object - he lands on his backside and tries to back away, his back hitting the office’s door. He clutches his head, trying to shake away the fuzziness.
But the words won’t stop replaying in his head, causing his head and thoughts to swirl; the stress and panic allows the fuzziness to take over. Ghost Grunts, biting his lip hard, trying to concentrate on staying big. But against his will, the fuzziness won’t stop creeping up; that dreadful phase keeps repeating in his head:
“
Silencio ahora, pequeño.
”
he’s got to stay big he…can’t…he’s angry…people…Dead…Shepherd… stay…big…NO!
“ Silencio ahora, pequeño. ”
NO!
“ Silencio ahora, pequeño. ”
STOP! NO!
“ Silencio ahora, pequeño. ”
PLEASE!
“ Silencio ahora, pequeño. ”
Please…no..
“ Silencio ahora, pequeño. ”
…The Fuzziness takes over fully and all his big thoughts are gone. the survivors guilt, the adrenaline, the memories of gore and blood; Gone. All that remains is Baby Simon - who is tired, hurting all over and very sad (for some reason)
He blinks, trying to recognize the odd room. He whimpers, tears gathering in his eyes. He flinches when he hears footsteps closing in on him. He hesitantly looks up and sees ‘papa’ looming over him.
“Hey there, son.” The man speaks with an oddly warm tone. “What’s such a tiny boy like yourself doing here? Hm?” Papa crosses his arms “You know little ones aren’t supposed to enter papa’s office.”
He…doesn’t know. Simon forgot why he entered papa’s office in the first place. He shakes his head, whimpering and tearing up. He didn’t mean to be naughty! He must’ve had a good reason! He stares down at the floor and sees his arms are littered in deep cuts and bruises. His lip wobbles as he finally realizes why he’s here; he’s hurting, badly. He sniffles and lifts his arms to show Papa his various cuts and bruises. His eyes wide and teary behind his skull mask.
“Made ouchie, Papa…”
“Naw. Did you fall over again, son?” Shepherd tuts softly, stepping closer into Simon’s personal space. He cups Simon’s chin and gently tilts the little’s head up. “Such a clumsy thing, aren’t you, son?”
Simon whimpers again, staring down at the floor as he nods. He must’ve fallen over…right? He’s so tiny and clumsy. He hiccups as tears spill down his cheeks, shaking as the tears pool and gather in his mask.
“ ‘M s-so’ry, Papa..”
He feels a tug on his mask and whines as the material is forcefully tugged off his head. Exposing his scarred and bloodied face. He winces as Papa makes him look up at him again, his big teary eyes staring up at papa, awaiting the final verdict. He shrinks under Papa’s stern gaze, the seconds feel like hours as Papa stares down at him. Simon feels relieved when he hears a fond sigh and see’s papa’s warm smile.
“That’s alright, son. That’s what I’m here for.” Shepherd helps a wobbly Simon onto his feet. “C’mon son, let’s go get bubby Phil and have him get you cleaned up and ready for a nap.”
“Na’p…bubby…” Simon agrees softly, shoving his fingers in his mouth, suckling softly as he allows Papa to guide him to his nursery.
Shepherd has to hold back a grimace. He isn’t a fan of Ghost’s regression. He’s too soft, too clingy and too damn emotional. But he’d rather have a clingy, weepy baby than face Ghost’s wrath any day.
He’ll need to keep Ghost under for a few days. It’ll give him enough time to sweep this all under the rug and Ghost’s baby brain will wash this all away. Ghost will wake up wondering what happened and Shepherd can explain the mission went south. That they were surrounded and that Ghost was the only one to survive.
It’s a pain to care for Ghost in such a state - he’ll probably hand him off to Graves, the man seems happy enough to care for him. He’d visit every now and again - to make sure everything was in order and going well.
It’d mean he’d have to put the SAS operator AND his second in command on ‘medical related leave’. But if it’s that’s the cost of keeping his colossal fuckup (the missiles) under the rug, then so be it.
With the USB of leaked data secured, he could rest easy again. All thanks to his little Ghost. A soft coo snapped him out of his thoughts. Speak of the devil; The regressed man was currently being laid down for a nap by Graves.
Shepherd couldn’t help but be amused by how Ghost was dressed up; A long sleeve onesie with built in mittens (Apparently little Ghost bites his nails till they bleed and scratches his face up, according to Graves) The lieutenant was also padded up in a diaper - an unfortunate side effect of the regression was that Ghost lost control of his bladder. There were a lot of wet sheets, puddles on his expensive carpet and lots of crying Much to the general’s annoyance and disgust. Diapering up Ghost during these moments of regression seemed to be the best option (again, Graves didn’t seem to mind it)
The sight disgusted him. Seeing one of his most deadliest assets being reduced to a sniveling, pissing baby. But…the pros outweigh the cons unfortunately. If it weren’t for Roba’s conditioning; Shepherd would have a throwing knife lodged in his skull. If Roba was still alive, he’d personally thank the sick son of a bitch.
But alas, he was dead. But thanks to Roba’s antics; he had the perfect little soldier. One who would do all his dirty work and help him keep his messes hidden. One who he could force to submit at a simple phase. One who’s baby brain would wash away all the bad memories and make him forget the recent horrors.
He was perfect, the perfect little soldier.
Shepherd smiled down at Simon who blinked blearily up at his papa as Bubby Phil fed him his nap time bottle. He cooed softly behind the bottle’s nipple as Papa’s hands carded through his messy blonde locks.
“Job well done, Son.” Papa praised, making Simon coo sleepily again. His eyes fluttered, fighting to stay awake. Earning a chuckle and a head shake. “Finish that bottle and get some rest, son. I’ll come visit after work.” Simon whined as Papa pulled back. He stopped drinking and tried to sit up, the bottle forgotten as he tried to reach out for Papa. He teared up as Bubby Phil gently pushed him back against the fluffy pillows.
“Hey hey..C’mon darling boy, you gotta finish your bottle.” Bubby gently tilted the bottle up, coaxing more warm milk into Simon’s mouth. The baby sniffled but succumbed to the tempting warm milk…maybe if he was good, bubby might give him cuddles instead. His eyes fluttered again as the sweet milk filled his empty tummy. He looked up at Bubby, fully relaxing as he saw Bubby’s calming, warm smile.
Graves forced a soft smile as he watched Ghost (he couldn’t bring himself to call him Simon…he hadn’t earned that.) drink the medicine concealed in the formula. His gut bubbling with guilt as he watched the sweet, innocent baby take eager gulps from the bottle. Each swallow of milk would guarantee Ghost would stay fuzzy and compliant…and when Shepherd decided he’d be allowed out of his trance, he’d wake up with a killer headache. The memories of the mission completely erased from the SAS’s operator’s mind. A forced hangover on top of forced regression. It made Graves sick.
Regression wasn’t a tool to be used. It was a way to heal, a way to deal with stress. But sick bastards like Shepherd and Roba wanted to use it to their advantage…and he was made to be involved.
Shepherd had control of his finances; caused by a foolish decision to allow Shepherd to co-own the shadow company. Shepherd had a way with words, sweet talking his way into Phillip's head. Discussions of ‘what if’s’ and such, tugging at Phil’s heartstrings and earning his trust. Because of his poor decisions, he was now at his general’s mercy. If he didn’t do what he was told, he’d be punished.
Not that taking care of Ghost was ever an issue. If anything, it was one of his favorite tasks that Shepherd handed to him
He found Si- Ghost to be very sweet when he was regressed - He’d coo and babble softly at Graves, always eager for cuddles and comfort. And when Ghost would stare up at him with those sweet, wide brown eyes; Graves’ heart would melt. He really was the sweetest, most perfect baby.
If only they had met earlier, before the two devils snatched up this sweet little lamb and messed with his head. He would’ve loved to be Simo- Ghost’s caregiver. He would’ve earned the right to be his caregiver. He wouldn’t have forced it and taken it, like Shepherd or Roba did.
Speaking of, one of the devil’s in question patted Graves on the shoulder, giving it a hard squeeze. Making Phillip tense up.
“Take good care of my boy, Phil. you copy?”
“Yes sir. I copy.” Philip spoke through gritted teeth, forcing himself to keep his composure for Ghost’s sake. He untensed when the grip on his shoulder eased.
“Good. I’ll check up on you two in a few hours.” Shepherd’s tone was warm, but Phillip could detect the threatening undertones. Seemingly satisfied, Shepherd finally made his leave, locking the nursery on the way out. Once the lock ‘clicked’ Philip let out a shaky sigh of relief, his aching shoulders sagged as the tension left the room.
A soft snuffle and clunk caught his attention. He looked down at the bed and saw Ghost tiredly rub at his face, the now empty bottle on the floor.
“Aw you finished your bottle! Good job, buddy” Philip praised, using a wet wipe to wipe away the milk dribbling down corners of the baby’s mouth. His heart melted at the sleepy, happy coo he received in return. “Goodness, you’re so sleepy…” Philip commented, brushing a few stray locks out of Ghost’s face. “...Let's get you nice and settled for nap time, okay?”
Philip helped Ghost lay down on the makeshift crib - a bed with safety rails surrounding the entire bed. Phillip had managed to talk Shepherd into ordering one after Ghost had fallen out and cried the entire night. He raised the railing and began to rub soothing circles into Ghost's chest and stomach.
“Get some sleep, hun.” Philip cooed down at Ghost. “I’ll be here when you’re awake.” It’s not like he could leave. Or needed to, really. The nursery had a little side room, bathroom and kitchenette. Shepherd asked (insisted/forced) Philip to stay in the nursery, arguing that it’d raise too much suspicion if Graves were to go in and out of the room. Graves complied (not having much of a choice). He had his trusted second in command, Gary take the reins and keep the shadows in line. Meanwhile, he’d simply catch up on paperwork while Ghost slept.
But Ghost wasn’t falling asleep. He was fighting it. He looked panicked, looking around for something. The poor thing was on the verge of tears. Philip looked around, trying to figure out what was missing when he spotted a small clump of white fabric peeking out from under the bed.
“Oh no! We almost forgot someone special!” Philip fake gasped, kneeling down to pull something out from under the bed, chuckling warmly as watched Ghost's eyes light up when he brought the comfort item into the baby’s view.
“We can’t forget Lamb, can we?” Philip placed the lamb themed sshlumpie onto the baby’s chest. He was rewarded with a happy coo, the baby immediately began to suckle on one lamb’s ears. His eyes fluttering closed once more as he allowed sleep to finally take him to dream land. Graves watched the scene, his heart clenching in adoration and heartbreak.
He hated how trapped they both were. How they were both held prisoner by such a sick man. How Shepherd saw them as just assets to the ‘greater cause’. Graves had stopped worshiping the man after the missile incident. He realized that Shepherd saw him as nothing more than a pawn…maybe a shiner pawn than the rest on the board, but still. Just a pawn. But there was not much he could do. He couldn’t just disobey Shepherd without serious consequences…and until he could figure out a way to reverse the conditioning, he couldn't leave Ghost at Shepherd's mercy.
He couldn't do that to Simon. Couldn't leave his baby Simon with such a monster.