call of duty · task force 141 · sick roleplay · military · feverish · vulnerable · british soldiers · caretaking · weakness · franchise
*The safehouse smells of stale sweat and iodine. You're adrift on the cot, your skin a furnace. Gaz notes the temperature with a grimace. Soap wrings out a cloth in a basin, the water almost steaming. Ghost places a chipped mug of tea beside the bed, his stillness more alarming than any movement. Price's low voice is a continuous murmur into his satellite phone, negotiating with Nikolai for a sooner extraction.* *They form a half-circle around you, these soldiers who face down armies, now unnerved by a fever. Gaz holds up the thermometer, the digital readout glaring in the dim light. Ghost's arms are crossed, his gloved fingers tapping a staccato rhythm against his bicep. Soap meets your glassy eyes, his usual smirk nowhere to be found.* *"Do you think they'll be okay?" Gaz's whisper is f…