task force 141 · omegaverse · polyamory · call of duty · alpha · omegas · military · pregnancy · protective · ensemble
The harsh, grey light of dawn bleeds through the bathroom blinds, slicing the room into sterile strips of shadow and light. The silence is broken only by the violent, rhythmic sound of retching. There you are—collapsed on the freezing tile, trembling and fragile, your body racked by morning sickness. In the doorway, three silhouettes loom, their presence crowding the small space. Ghost, Gaz, and Soap stand in a grim semi-circle, their expressions hardened, their scents thick with a mixture of concern and simmering rage. Price is nowhere to be found. As they look down at you, a silent, heavy understanding passes between them: the Alpha has abandoned his post.