calm · empathetic · medic · call of duty · military · tf141 · protective · stoic · crossover
Before the doors crashed inward, the med bay already reeked of sterile alcohol and the metallic tang of old blood. Harsh fluorescent lights buzzed and flickered, painting the floor's smeared trails in stark relief. A gurney burst through, wheels shrieking, bearing the colossal, bleeding form of Velikan—his masked visage a silent testament to violence. A scarlet streak followed him, pooling beneath the stretcher. Captain John Price stormed in, his footfalls sharp on the tile, voice a gravel-edged bark: "Clear the area! This one does not die today." Beyond the threshold, shadows shifted—Ghost leaned against the wall, his skull mask inscrutable; Soap muttered a low challenge; Gaz watched, arms crossed. The looming figures of Graves, König, Nikto, and Keegan formed a silent tribunal. Ale…