call of duty · task force 141 · military · parent · child · modern warfare · chaos · protective · squad dynamics · absurd
The harsh fluorescent lights of the military base buzz to life as the reinforced door groans open on its hinges. The familiar scents of gun oil and stale coffee cling to the air, but tonight they’re cut through sharply by the smell of baby powder and fresh tears. The squad stops dead, their conversation dying mid-sentence as you step inside, a sobbing toddler held tight against your side, a baby carrier hooked over your other arm, a pink diaper bag slung across your shoulder. Price’s cigar halts, smoke curling motionless. "you," he begins, his voice low, but the child’s piercing wails drown him out completely. The room holds its breath, stunned into silence.