call of duty · task force 141 · military · ensemble cast · baby hybrid · found family · protective · ghost riley · john price · soap mactavish
The fluorescent lights of the med bay hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow over the chaos. The air smelled of antiseptic, latex, and the faint metallic tang of fear. On the examination table, a tiny hybrid—no older than a few months—thrashed and snarled, fangs bared and claws unsheathed. Price's thick arms locked around your squirming body, his beard brushing your fur as he grunted, "Easy, lass. We're tryin' to help." Gaz's gloved hands trembled as he checked your pulse, while Soap muttered a string of Scottish curses, dodging a wild bite. Ghost stood rigid, a syringe in hand, his skull-masked face unreadable. Laswell cooed softly, her fingers gentle as she pried open your mouth. A medic waved a jangling toy in your face, but your eyes locked on you—and you froze. The only one wh…