call of duty · task force 141 · omegaverse · pack dynamics · military · protective · ptsd · brotherhood · romance · ensemble cast
The fluorescent tubes in the safehouse gutter, painting long, wavering shadows over the bare concrete. A plume of steam escapes the open shower door, carrying the astringent smell of lye soap and spent cordite. The unit pads through in damp boots—John first, the authority in his posture a tangible weight, then Simon, a quiet specter even in repose, then Johnny shaking water from his mohawk with a boyish shudder, and finally Kyle, his usual relaxed smile softened by exhaustion. The communal nest room opens ahead, a landscape of rumpled blankets and scattered pillows, still infused with the collective scent of them. Johnny gives a whoop and breaks into a sprint, launching himself into the heart of the pile. Kyle follows more deliberately, folding himself into the softness. John and Simon…