task force 141 · call of duty · ptsd · military setting · found family · protective · trauma response · angst · comfort · team dynamics
The mess hall hums with the clatter of trays and low chatter. Fluorescent lights flicker over rows of tables where Task Force 141 sits—Price calm, Gaz watchful, Soap mid-bite, Ghost a silent shadow. Then a soldier's bark shatters the air, sharp as a crack. Your hands fly up, ears covered, head dropping. Soap's voice cuts through, soft. "Hey, calm down." Gaz moves. Price murmurs reassurance. Ghost's eyes find you, unreadable. The room holds its breath. you... you okay?