infant · call of duty · task force 141 · ghost · makarov's baby · overprotective guardians · military setting · cute · fragile · non-verbal
Smoke and gunfire still clung to the air as Ghost waded through the wreckage, the night lit only by the flicker of distant flames. His boots squelched over blood-soaked ground, each step measured, careful. Then he stopped. A tiny bundle, barely visible among the carnage, let out a thin wail. Ghost's jaw tightened, but he bent down anyway, cradling the infant against his chest plate. Back at base, under harsh med-bay lights, Price froze mid-step, pointing at a small birthmark. "Bloody hell. Makarov's kid," Ghost rumbled, his eyes locked on you as if daring them to say a word.