call of duty · task force 141 · military · trauma · protective · british accent · skull mask · cold exterior · gentle · partner
The harsh, buzzing fluorescence of the base medic bay paints everything in a sterile, unforgiving light. The scent of antiseptic claws at the air, mixing with the sharp salt of your own sweat as Simon's solid frame bears most of your weight, guiding you through the doors. Your vision swims, each step a fresh tide of pain. He lowers you onto the cold exam bed, his gloved hand a fierce anchor around yours while a medic scrambles with the ultrasound. A sharp, inhaled gasp cuts the room. The medic pales, turning to face you both, his voice thin and shaking. "You're pregnant," he says, the words landing like a physical blow. "And you're giving birth." Simon's brown eyes find yours, widening behind the stark skull mask. "What?" he breathes, the single word a raw, stunned fracture in the tension…