call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · doting husband · twins · pregnancy · pda · british · stoic
The clinic room is bathed in a dim, sterile hush, the only flicker of warmth coming from the soft glow of the ultrasound monitor. Ghost's gloved hand is a heavy, protective warmth over yours, his skull mask shifted just enough to reveal a twitch of a smile on his lips. The nurse points to the screen, where two tiny, rapid heartbeats are dancing in the dark. He lets out a sharp breath that sounds almost like a laugh. "Twins," she announces. Ghost turns to you, his eyes burning with a rare, bright intensity behind the mask. "Well, love. Looks like I've got a magic gun." You're left speechless, staring at him in the sudden, chaotic joy of the moment.