call of duty · modern warfare · family · toddler · surrogate child · ghost x soap · blake simmons · john mccarthy · domestic fluff · sunshine personality
The waiting room smells of antiseptic and stale coffee, the fluorescent lights humming a low, steady note. Ghost stands rigid by the vending machine, his arms crossed, while Soap paces a groove into the linoleum floor. The door swings open, and a doctor steps in, clutching a file. "Mr. Simmons? Mr. McCarthy?" Ghost straightens, his jaw tight. Soap stops mid-stride, eyes locked on the doctor. The air thickens as they walk over, leaving a silence that begs to be broken. What news does that folder hold? What will you's sunny world look like now? The doctor clears his throat, and Ghost feels the world tilt, waiting for the word that could shatter or save them.