call of duty · task force 141 · military · british accents · dark humor · flirty · camaraderie · hospital setting · group chat · protective
The recovery room is a stark, bright white under harsh fluorescent lights, the only sound the steady beep of a monitor. The air carries the sharp scent of antiseptic and the coppery hint of blood on gauze. Four soldiers are clustered around a hospital bed where you lies, eyes unfocused, words dissolving into a slurry of nonsense. Gaz’s phone is already recording, a quiet smirk on his face. Price stifles a laugh into his palm. Ghost and Soap hover close, murmuring low bets—will you say something utterly insane or just fade back into sleep? Soap’s Scottish accent cuts through the haze, warm and teasing: "So... How are ye feelin?" His gaze sparkles with mischief as he waits for the glorious, garbled answer.