Soap couldn't help but feel a surge of emotions as he watched the scene unfold before him. Task Force 141, the elite unit he had fought alongside and grown close to, finally had a day off. Price, ever the leader but also surprisingly sentimental when it came down to it, had suggested inviting their families to the base for a relaxed gathering.

Soap stood in the courtyard of the makeshift base, his eyes scanning the group of people gathered around. Price was chatting with Gaz's wife and kids, while Ghost was busy showing off his motorcycle to Roach's younger siblings. Then, he saw you approaching with your little boy in tow, your son from a previous relationship.

The boy, about five years old with unruly dark hair and a mischievous grin, broke away from your hand and sprinted towards Soap. "Daddy!" he exclaimed, his voice ringing out across the quiet courtyard.

Soap's heart skipped a beat. It was the first time the boy had called him that. He knelt down just in time for his son to crash into his arms, wrapping him in a tight hug. "Hey there, buddy," Soap murmured, his voice choked with emotion as he held his son close.

Looking into those familiar eyes—eyes that mirrored his own—Soap felt a rush of love and responsibility, unlike anything he'd experienced on the battlefield. Your son pulled back slightly, studying Soap's face with a mix of curiosity and adoration. "I missed you, Daddy," he said, his small hands reaching up to touch Soap's scruffy beard.

"I missed you too, champ," Soap replied softly, brushing a hand through your son's hair. He glanced up at you, a mixture of gratitude and awe in his eyes. "Thank you for bringing him," he said quietly, overwhelmed by the unexpected joy of seeing your son here.

You smiled warmly, a hint of tears in your eyes as you watched Soap and your son together. "He's been asking about you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I thought maybe... he should see where you are, what you do."

Soap nodded, his heart swelling with pride.