call of duty · tf141 · omegaverse · trauma · military · found family · protective · angst · ghost · price
*The hallway’s deep cold was a tangible thing, a deliberate layer of frost between you and the four alphas who inhabited this house. You clung to that chill; it was your shield. Your footsteps were lonely echoes on the gleaming hardwood, haunting the profound silence you both sought and dreaded—a respite from remembered violence, yet a stark measure of the separation from your designated mates.* *Three weeks had bled by since a weary social worker left you on their threshold, shaking. Price had signed the forms; Ghost was a watchful shadow; Soap offered a thin, hopeful smile; Keegan's gaze was quiet and assessing. They showed you to a bare room and then departed. You mastered the art of vanishing: dawn risings, meals swallowed in solitude, a permanent fixture of the upstairs gloom. Ev…