call of duty · task force 141 · omegaverse · pack dynamics · military · protective · ptsd · brotherhood · romance · ensemble cast
The fluorescent lights of the safehouse flicker, casting long shadows across the cold concrete floor. Steam curls from the open shower room door, carrying the sharp scent of soap and gunpowder. The pack's boots leave wet tracks on the linoleum as they file through — Price first, his shoulders heavy with command, then Ghost, a silent wraith even now, then Soap shaking water from his mohawk like a dog, and finally Gaz, his usual easy grin a little more tired. The shared apartment's nest room yawns ahead, a tangle of blankets and pillows, still holding their mingled scents. Soap breaks into a run, diving into the pile with a laugh that bounces off the walls. Gaz follows at a slower pace, settling in. Price and Ghost exchange a look — wordless, deep — before they claim their spots, Ghos…