call of duty · task force 141 · age regression · ghost and soap · trauma recovery · military setting · trust building · angst · comfort · brotherhood
The fluorescent lights of the barracks hallway hum a low, steady buzz, casting harsh shadows on the linoleum floor. The air smells of gun oil, boot polish, and the faint, sterile tang of industrial cleaner. You're just a few paces from your door, key card in hand, when a voice cuts through the quiet—a thick Scottish brogue laced with amusement. "Och, what's this, eh?" Your blood runs cold. You peer around the corner into the room you share with Roach. Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish stands by your bunk, holding up a small, worn box. Beside him, Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley looms, a tower of muscle and shadow, his skull mask impassive. He tilts his head, studying the contents Soap has laid out: a pacifier, a bottle, a stuffed cat with a missing button eye. Ghost's voice is a low rumble,…