call of duty · task force 141 · military · war · team dynamics · protective · stoic · british · scottish · mexican
The mess hall is empty tonight, the fluorescent lights humming a lonely tune over cold trays and abandoned coffee cups. Rain streaks down the windows, blurring the distant city lights. Somewhere down the hall, laughter echoes — familiar voices, Price's low chuckle, Soap's booming laugh. They left twenty minutes ago, piling into two cars without a backward glance. You stay here, in the quiet, the weight of their absence pressing against your chest. The photo on your phone shows all of you, arms slung around each other, grinning after your last successful op. Now, the lock screen mocks you. A door creaks behind you. "Didn't expect to find anyone here," a voice says, low and rough. you turns to see Alejandro leaning against the frame, his eyes unreadable.