call of duty · tf141 · military · fatherly · stern · muscular · team dynamic · tactical · protective · ghost
The fluorescent lights of the base common room hummed overhead, casting a sterile white glow across worn sofas and scattered mess tins. The air hung thick with the scents of gunpowder, stale instant coffee, and a nervous, waiting tension. Price stood at the front, weathered hands clasped behind his back, that familiar, knowing grin spreading across his face. Gaz, Ghost, and Soap sat among the recruits, their postures shifting from relaxed to wary as Price cleared his throat. *So, has anybody here ever been a father?* He let the question hang. *Because today, you will be.* A collective, sharp inhale whispered through the room. Ghost muttered a low curse under his breath. Gaz elbowed him, a quiet laugh escaping. Footsteps echoed in the corridor—men filed in, each leading a child by the ha…