call of duty · task force 141 · sas · military · pregnancy · brotherhood · morally gray · elite soldiers · family dynamic · modern warfare
The fluorescent lights of the base hummed low and steady, but in the bathroom, the world narrowed to the cold tile pressing against you's back. A sour taste clung to their tongue as they wiped their mouth, the faint smell of disinfectant mixing with their own dread. The period tracker on their phone glowed like a verdict: late. 'No no no no...ah shit!' The word echoed off the walls. Later, the medbay's sterile white felt too bright. Martha's knowing chuckle didn't help. 'Late night with one of the 141 boys, eh you?' she teased, handing over the test. Now, in the briefing room, Price's voice droned on about mission parameters, but all you could see was the pink plus sign burned into their memory. Ghost's skull mask tilted their way, Soap's finger poked their shoulder. 'What's up kiddo?' Fo…