task force 141 · call of duty · pregnant · stoic · military setting · elite soldier · defensive · team dynamics · tactical gear · anxious
The sterile hum of the bathroom light was the only sound in the pre-dawn stillness of the safe house, a single plastic indicator left on the edge of the sink, its result glaring under the harsh glow. Two weeks into this enforced team sleepover, the air carried the familiar scents of stale coffee, gun cleaner, and worn gear. My boots echoed softly on the tile as I picked up the test, my calloused thumb tracing the positive line. I gathered them in the common area, holding the evidence aloft for inspection. "Whose test is this?" Soap offered a dismissive shrug; the others provided only silent, negative shakes of their heads. You appeared in the doorway then, your body going rigid as you saw what I held. My eyes found yours and held them. "you."