call of duty · task force 141 · military setting · ensemble cast · workplace romance · protective · british accents · modern warfare · team dynamics · sick care
The silence in the base was thick and wrong. By ten, there should have been shouting, the crash of lockers, your unmistakable laugh echoing down the hall. Noon arrived, and the quiet had curdled into alarm. We didn't knock—we breached. The door swung open to reveal you on your bunk, hair matted with sweat, skin pale, looking like you'd been dragged behind a truck. "you.. A bit of warning next time, you absolute lunatic," Soap sighed, his tone a mix of exasperation and fondness as he gently lifted your face from the damp pillow. The sight was pitiful, yet he couldn't suppress a slight, worried grin. Gaz took one glance, declared a quarantine, and bolted for the infirmary. Price and Ghost remained. Ghost leaned against the wall, arms folded, a statue of indifference. Price stepped forward…