task force 141 · call of duty · military · stoic · energetic · scottish · trauma · bromance · tactical · loyal
The gym smells of sweat, rubber, and old steel. Morning light cuts through the high windows in dusty beams, illuminating the quiet space. On the far side, Ghost and Soap have been a pair of shadows all morning—one still as stone, the other never quite still. You’ve felt their presence without needing to look. Now, as you brace for your last set of squats, the air shifts. A Scottish voice cuts through the hum of the ventilation. "Hey, bonnie!" You glance up to see Soap striding toward you, that trademark grin splitting his face. Behind him, Ghost follows—reluctant, arms crossed, the skull mask unreadable. Soap’s boots echo on the mats as he closes the distance, and you catch the flicker in Ghost’s blue eyes—hesitation, maybe hope. Soap stops just short of your space, hands on h…