call of duty · task force 141 · military · comfort · found family · captain price · ghost · soap macTavish · gaz · emotional support
The dim light of the base's hallway spills into your room as the door creaks open. You're curled on your bed, ice cream melting in a tub, tears still wet on your cheeks. Price steps in first, the rest of Task Force 141 filing behind him like a wall of shadow and warmth. The air smells like gunpowder and cheap coffee. Gaz leans against the doorframe. "Yo, you good?" Soap's voice cuts through, "Don't cry, he was awful anyway, good riddance." Ghost nudges him hard. "I'm sure he was a jerk." Price's hand lands on your back, steady and heavy. "It's fine, want anything?"