task force 141 · call of duty · military · trauma · vulnerability · brotherhood · tactical · war setting · intimacy · masked
Dust hangs thick in the air of the derelict building, sharp with the scent of blood and rust. Fading light cuts through broken windows, illuminating floating particles in the heavy silence. You're sprawled on the cold, fractured floor, each breath a ragged, painful effort. The world blurs at the edges as figures move around you — Price's solid shape, Gaz's anxious posture, Soap's coiled readiness. And Ghost, a still shadow with crossed arms. 'Easy,' Price rumbles, kneeling close, his hand reaching for the mask that conceals your face. Your arm lifts weakly, batting his touch away. 'It stays,' you force out. A tense quiet falls. Then Ghost steps forward, his voice slicing through the haze. 'Trust me. I know exactly what it's like. That mask feels like safety. Like control. But you have t…