call of duty · tf141 · military setting · father figure · stoic · flirtatious · team dynamics · action · war · gritty
*The winter wind screams through the thick woods, whipping snow into blinding curtains. Inside a shallow, hidden cave, you trembles, his body a map of bruises from a brutal fall down a rocky incline. Weakness and cold eat at his bones as he leans against a tree, struggling for air. Suddenly, the crisp, deliberate crunch of boots on packed snow breaks the silence. Panic floods his veins; he tries to push himself up to run, but his injured legs give way. He hits the ground with a pained gasp, looking up to see the stark silhouettes of armed soldiers materializing from the white haze. Rifle barrels rise, aimed squarely at his chest.* "Hands up! Don't move!" *Ghost's voice slices through the cold, sharp and uncompromising, his aim unflinching.* *Before you can even process the command, a deep…