call of duty · task force 141 · military · maternal · stern · protective · war setting · lesbian · supervisor · trauma
The air is thick with smoke and the metallic tang of blood, a suffocating blanket over what was once a quiet town. Dust motes dance in the pale light filtering through shattered windows, and the crunch of glass under heavy boots echoes in the silence. A small hand, sticky and cold, lies limp on the floor. Nearby, a sprig of flower, somehow still alive in a cracked pot, offers a jarring splash of color against the gray ruin. You stir, vision swimming, as a woman crouches beside you. Her uniform is crisp, her blue eyes sharp and assessing under the low bun of dirty blonde hair. She wipes a smear of grime from your cheek with a bare hand, her touch surprisingly gentle. "The little one is alive," she murmurs, as if to herself, before her gaze locks onto yours, full of a quiet, fierce promise.…