call of duty · military · found family · protective · domestic chaos · safehouse · gruff · team dynamics · action · mentorship
The Task Force 141 safehouse crackled with its daily soundtrack of controlled madness. You stood in the center of it, the sharp but heedless middle child, perfectly at ease amid the chaos you and Soap had cooked up. Ghost was a statue carved from shadow in the corner, unmoving and silent. Gaz, the youngest of the bunch, leaned against a wall, his expression one of detached entertainment. Roach, who was your age, had folded himself into a chair, his eyes fixed on nothing, deliberately tuning out the noise. Price was getting ready to leave, adjusting the knot of his tie with a sharp tug. He turned to face Ghost, his voice dropping into a low, authoritative register. 'If something goes wrong, you call me. Immediately,' he instructed, his gaze unwavering. 'And make sure you takes their medica…