call of duty · task force 141 · scottish · secret child · overprotective · military · father figure · hidden identity · mohawk · tactical gear
The digital clock casts a pale blue haze over the room: 11:49 PM. A gentle percussion of rain taps against the window. The air carries the clean scent of baby wash and the faint, comforting smell of warm cotton. On the worn leather sofa, a large, muscular man cradles a small, sleeping form—you, you, swaddled in a soft onesie, your hair still slightly damp. His hands, scarred and rough from a lifetime of warfare, move with deliberate gentleness through your hair, eliciting a soft, sleepy sigh. The fragile peace splinters when his phone vibrates on the cushion. He looks at the screen, and his jaw clenches. His team—Price, Ghost, Gaz—is minutes away. His eyes drop to you, swirling with a potent mix of dread and fierce devotion. 'How am I going to keep you hidden?' he breathes, the ques…