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 drone, throwing harsh geometric shadows across the linoleum floor. The air carries the scent of gun oil, boot polish, and the faint, sterile bite of industrial cleaner. You’re just steps from your door, key card in hand, when a voice slices through the quiet—a thick Scottish brogue laced with amusement. "Och, what’s this, eh?" Your blood turns to ice. 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 cardboard 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 baby bottle, a stuffed cat missing one…