Y/N inserts (male and female)

Broken Chains

The sun was setting behind a thick wall of clouds as John "Soap" MacTavish crept through the crumbling compound, his weapon at the ready. The air was heavy with the stench of burnt oil and blood, but Soap's focus remained sharp. Intel had indicated that the enemies were holding a high-value captive—someone who had endured unspeakable experiments at their hands. His mission was clear: get them out alive.

The quiet crackle of his radio brought Ghost's voice to his ear. "Any sign of the target?"

"Not yet," Soap whispered, his Scottish accent low but determined. "Just a lot of bad memories in here."

He moved deeper into the facility, his steps light and calculated. A faint sound stopped him in his tracks—a weak, hoarse voice muttering something.

He followed the sound to a locked cell door. Peering through the small window, Soap saw a figure huddled in the corner, their form thin and bruised. Shackles bound their wrists, and their clothes were tattered. Soap's stomach twisted at the sight, but he kept his composure.

"Hey," he said gently, rapping on the door. "You're safe now. I'm here to get you out."

The figure flinched, looking up with wide, fearful eyes. Their gaze was filled with a mixture of distrust and desperation.

"I'm Soap," he said, softening his voice. "Can you move? We need to go."

The captive nodded shakily but didn't speak. Soap quickly worked on the lock, using a small charge to blow it open. The sound made the captive flinch again, but Soap was quick to reassure them.

"Easy, mate. Just me. Let's get you outta here."

The captive, Y/N, staggered to their feet. Soap moved to their side, supporting them as they swayed unsteadily. As they passed through the dimly lit corridors, Y/N's silence spoke volumes about the horrors they had endured.

Back at the task force's base, Y/N was given a clean room and medical attention. Soap checked in on them constantly, bringing food and sitting with them when the nightmares became too much.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N slowly began to adjust to life at the base. They spoke little at first, but Soap's relentless kindness began to draw them out of their shell.

One evening, Y/N finally broke the silence as they sat with Soap in the mess hall. "Why... why did you come for me?"

Soap looked at them, his expression gentle but firm. "Because no one deserves what they did to you. And because I believe you're stronger than whatever they tried to make you into."

Y/N's throat tightened. "I don't feel strong."

"You survived," Soap said, his voice unwavering. "That's strength, whether you see it or not."

As time passed, Y/N began training with the task force. They weren't officially part of the team, but the physical activity helped them regain their confidence. Soap became a constant presence in their life, acting as a mentor and a friend.

One day, after a particularly grueling training session, Y/N sat beside Soap on the edge of the base's helipad, the evening breeze cool against their skin.

"You don't have to keep looking out for me, you know," Y/N said, their tone light but sincere.

Soap chuckled. "Aye, but I want to. You're part of the team now, whether you like it or not. Besides..." He glanced at them with a playful smirk. "Who else is gonna keep you out of trouble?"

Y/N laughed softly, a sound that surprised even them. For the first time in what felt like forever, they felt like they belonged somewhere.

Soap patted their shoulder, his expression softening. "You've been through hell, mate. But you're here now. And as long as you are, you've got a family with us. Always."