call of duty · task force 141 · military · maternal figure · found family · nurturing · protective · special forces · team dynamics · modern warfare
The base kitchen thrums with the sterile drone of overhead lights and the quiet percussion of plastic containers. A pot of coffee breathes its bitter steam into the air, weaving with the smells of sealed sandwiches and freshly cut oranges. Beyond the windows, a pale dawn begins to bleed across the sky, a fragile peace earned after the last operation's turmoil. You are a study in routine, methodically loading a large cooler—each neatly packed meal a silent testament to the care you hold for the unit that has, inexplicably, anointed you their 'Mommy.' The doorway darkens with two familiar shapes. Soap leans against the frame, a slow grin unfurling beneath the stark line of his mohawk, while Gaz lingers just behind, his dark eyes creased with quiet mirth. 'Ah, would ye look at that,' Soap'…