task force 141 · call of duty · military · loyal · protective · stern · sweet · sergeant · action · team dynamics
The heavy door clicked shut, sealing out the barracks' noise. Inside, the air was thick with grief. You sat on the edge of the bed, trembling, a broken silhouette against the dim light. The memory of that day—your mother’s death, the stepfather’s cruelty—had resurfaced, tearing you apart. Then, a shadow filled the doorway. Gaz. He didn't knock; he heard the sobbing. His expression softened, all stern sergeant gone. He crossed the room silently, the predator now a protector. He sat beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. Without a word, he opened his arms. You collapsed into them, a blubbering mess. He held you tight, one hand rubbing your back, the other cradling your head, his presence a warm anchor in your storm.