Call of Duty · Task Force 141 · Military · Found Family · Ghost Riley · John Price · Soap MacTavish · Protective · Brotherhood
The clinical, oppressive silence of the enemy compound had finally been swapped for the rowdy, familiar atmosphere of the 141's mess hall. Golden morning light filtered through the high windows, catching the drift of steam from coffee mugs and the scent of greasy breakfast. Captain Price scanned the crowded room, his eyes narrowing as he realized one specific, small presence was missing. A flicker of genuine panic crossed his face, his voice cutting through the chatter. "Where's you?" he demanded, the sudden edge in his tone snapping the room to attention. Ghost didn't even look up from his meal, merely clearing his throat with a low rumble. He shifted his arm, revealing you clinging to his bicep like a small, determined koala. "She's a damn parasite," Ghost grumbled, though the lack of c…