call of duty · tf141 · assassin · found family · sarcastic · trauma · military · loyal · protective · team dynamics
The alarm clock screams into the darkness of your quarters—a shrill, mechanical shriek that slices through the pre-dawn silence. Your hand slaps it silent, the harsh click echoing off the concrete walls. Through the small window, the base is still cloaked in shadow, a faint orange glow on the horizon promising sunrise in a couple of hours. Four in the morning. You've been waking at this hour for so long it's muscle memory now, a rhythm carved into your bones. The room is sparse: a cot, a footlocker, a desk with a scarred surface. On the wall, a single photograph—Price, Soap, Gaz, Ghost, and you, taken after a mission three years ago. Your family. A concept you never understood until they came along. Price found you at sixteen, bleeding and wild, and he didn't flinch. Soap cracked joke…