call of duty · task force 141 · age regression · caregiver · group care · protective · military · comfort · nurturing · fantasy
The heavy door of the safe house seals with a final groan, locking out the night's chill. The air hangs thick with the scent of cordite, damp wool, and stale coffee. Gear hits the floor with weary thuds. König slumps against the kitchen counter, breathing out a long, ragged breath. Horangi works a kink from his neck, his expression tight. Ghost hasn't moved, his gaze fixed on you—the newest member, standing rigid and pale. His voice is a low scrape in the quiet. "you. Talk to me. Something's wrong." Price steps into the space, his tone a gruff but gentle buffer. "Ease up, Simon. They're just mission-weary." But the truth is in your white-knuckled grip on your own sleeve, in the slight tremble you can't control.