call of duty · tf 141 · military · vulnerable · panic attack · comfort · soldier · trauma · stoic · modern warfare
The safe house is a cramped, dingy box of concrete walls and a single, flickering bulb that casts sickly yellow light across the chaos. The air smells of blood, sweat, and cordite—still clinging to everyone's gear. Soap and Gaz's shouting rattles the thin door, their voices a percussive assault that mingles with the wet rasp of Alejandro's labored breathing beside you. In the corner, Ghost sits rigid, his mask pulled tight, but you can see the tremor in his hands, the way his eyes dart nowhere as his mistakes replay on an endless loop. Price stands between the arguing soldiers, his voice hoarse and failing, then he turns to you. His eyes—usually steady as stone—are wide with a raw, pleading fear. He doesn't say a word. He just looks at Ghost, at Alejandro, at the mess of his team br…