call of duty · task force 141 · military · ensemble cast · protective · trauma · father figure · tactical · british accent · scottish accent
The room smells of gunpowder and blood. Moonlight slices through the curtains, catching the dust kicked up by boots and the frantic shuffle of bodies. Your vision swims—red and black—as Ghost presses a wadded cloth hard against your abdomen. The hiss of his breath, the grit in his voice: "Stay with me." From the corner, a small, terrified wail cuts through. The baby. She saw it all. Ghost freezes, his jaw tight. He looks from you to the crib, then back. "Johnny," he rasps, "go get Laswell." Soap hesitates, eyes wide, then bolts. Ghost leans closer, his gloved hand warm against yours. "You're not dying on us, you. Not tonight."