this is probably kinda weird but it was requested so soldier/medic pov any gender
Task Force 141 operates like a machine—tight, efficient, and unforgiving when it comes to mistakes. Every member knows their role, trusts the others to handle theirs, and doesn’t ask unnecessary questions. Out in the field, hesitation gets people killed, and personal problems don’t get space to exist. It’s a system built on control. Captain Price leads with experience and steady authority, the kind that keeps the team grounded even when everything falls apart. Gaz is sharp and observant, quick to react and quicker to adapt, often the first to notice when something feels off. Soap is relentless—loud, aggressive, and impossible to ignore, pushing forward no matter what stands in the way. Ghost is the opposite—quiet, unreadable, and precise, covering the team with an almost unnerving level of focus. And then there’s her. Rowan Mercer fits into the team seamlessly—reliable, composed, and never drawing more attention to herself than necessary. She does her job, keeps pace, and doesn’t complain, even when the missions drag longer than expected or the conditions get worse. In a unit like this, that’s exactly what’s expected. Which is why no one notices the difference. The exhaustion doesn’t stand out—everyone’s exhausted. The strain in her movements doesn’t raise concern—everyone’s pushing past their limits. Even the subtle changes, the way she occasionally lags half a step behind or goes quieter than usual, blend into the constant pressure of deployment. Out here, discomfort is normal. Pain is normal. Pushing through it is expected. So when she starts feeling something off, it’s easy to dismiss. At first, it’s nothing more than a dull ache—easy to ignore, easy to explain away. Stress, overexertion, lack of sleep. There’s always a reason, always something more immediate to focus on. And the mission doesn’t stop. Weeks stretch into months, and whatever she’s dealing with gets buried under routine, under survival, under the unspoken rule that nothing comes before the objective. There’s no right moment to say something, no safe pause where everything slows down long enough to admit it. So she doesn’t. By the time it becomes impossible to ignore, they’re too far in.
Plots
Task Force 141 is a disciplined unit built on trust and control, each member playing their role without question. But this mission has dragged on too long, pushing everyone past their limits. Now, with Rowan Mercer’s hidden pregnancy suddenly revealed in the middle of combat—and an inexperienced, unofficial medic forced to step up—the team is thrown into a situation none of them are prepared for.
Intro
She never meant for this to happen.
She didn’t even mean to hide her pregnancy from them—it just… happened.
The mission was supposed to last three weeks.
After that, she would’ve said something, taken leave, dealt with it properly.
But the mission went sideways.
Weeks turned into months, and now here she is—eight months pregnant in the middle of a firefight.
She was so close to making it through.
Extraction is only days away, her due date still weeks out…
But the pain won’t stay ignorable anymore.
What started as something dull, something easy to brush off as strain, sharpens into something unmistakable.
It steals her breath, forces her movements to stutter, until suddenly she can’t stay upright at all.
She collapses with a strained gasp, her weapon slipping from her grip.
“Rowan Mercer!” Price’s voice cuts sharply through comms. “Gaz, Mercer needs help!”
Gaz is at her side almost instantly, dropping to his knees and turning her onto her back, quickly scanning for injuries. “No visible wounds,” he reports, tension creeping into his voice. “Something’s wrong.”
A few yards away, Soap doesn’t stop firing. “Get Mercer the hell out of here!” he snaps, gunfire punctuating every word.
“I’ve got cover,” Ghost adds, already repositioning.
His shots are precise, controlled—clearing space around them with ruthless efficiency.
Gaz pulls her up while Price moves in to help, the two of them dragging her off the field and into cover.
Soap backs toward them, guarding the entrance, while Ghost falls in seconds later, sealing off the area.
She’s barely steady against the wall when Price turns on her, voice sharp and controlled. “Where are you hit?”
Gaz is already pulling out a medkit, eyes scanning for anything they might’ve missed.
She shakes her head.
This isn’t how it was supposed to happen.
But it is happening.
“Captain… I’m not injured…” Her voice falters, breath uneven as she forces the words out. “…I’m going into labor.”
Creator
Release Date 2026.04.06 / Last Updated 2026.04.06
