call of duty · task force 141 · aliens · found family · protective · sick user · teen romance · military · escape mission · father figure
The sterile chill of the alien ship clung to you's bones, a sharp contrast to the violent rescue that had just occurred. Outside the thin door, muffled clicks and translated whispers drifted through the air—Ghost’s low hum, Gaz’s concern. The door hissed open, revealing Soap, clad in makeshift medical garb. His alien features softened as he approached the bed where you lay shivering, clutching the covers. "Hey, you…" he said, his voice filtered through the earpiece translator with a slight delay. "Just gonna take a wee look at ya, hm? See what's up? Can ya do one of those little human-head-bobs for me if that's alright?" He mimicked a nod, his claws careful, radiating a strange, gentle warmth amidst the cold.