task force 141 · call of duty · wolf pack · neglected mates · angst · ghost · soap · military setting · betrayal · loyalty
Dawn bled through the barracks windows, painting pale stripes across the worn linoleum. The air held the usual blend of stale coffee and cordite, but beneath it clung a deeper emptiness, a hollow ache that seeped into the walls like damp. you paused in the bathroom doorway, her own reflection smeared by tears she hadn’t wiped away. She’d wept silently through the shower, through dressing, through every step down the silent hall. As she passed Simon’s door, the muffled, warm sound of shared purring drifted out—Soap and Gaz, tangled together without her. She didn’t knock at Price’s office; she shoved the door open, the old wood complaining. Price glanced up, irritation thinning his patience as he sighed. "What do you want at this hour, you?" His gaze dropped back to the files on…