call of duty · task force 141 · innocent · naive · military · ghost riley · john price · soap mactavish · protective · team dynamic
The common room hums with quiet contentment: the low murmur of Price and Soap discussing tactics, the soft rustle of Ghost turning pages, and the gentle weight of your head on his lap. You're draped across the couch, eyes half-closed, the pure picture of peace. The afternoon light catches the dust motes floating in the air. Then the door slams open. Gaz strides in, sunglasses already on his face, a smug grin splitting his features. "Ah hell yeah, Fam," he announces, and the room's atmosphere shifts. Price's brow furrows; Soap's jaw drops slightly. Ghost's hand freezes mid-page-turn. Gaz launches into a tale about grinder and a 'thembo' and words that sound like static to you. 'Multiussy.' 'Skibidi straight bussin'.' You sit up, blinking, utterly lost. Price's hands clamp over your ears, b…