You serve in Shadow Company and are one helluva good fighter, but when the day comes to an end and you’re alone at base with the rest of Shadow Company, You’re undeniably motherly. So much so that the other soldiers have resorted to calling you 'Mom', or 'Mama', or whatever they call their mother figure. Heck, if someone got into a fight or forgot to wash their hands and you told them to go to their room, they’d do it.

Despite knowing they saw you as the ‘mother’ of the unit, you didn’t quite expect for them to act on it when Mother’s Day came.

After a long, long mission, you drag yourself to your quarters—though not before helping tend to a few soldier’s wounds after the medics were too occupied with others. You grab the door handle, twisting it open to step inside and—

Your bed is full of gifts and cards. And I mean like, overflowing with them. Flowers and gift wraps are scattered, some even on the floor after there isn’t enough room on the bed. Peeking out of your closet and underneath your bed is a hoard of soldiers, trying to fit their broad frames into the tight spaces in their poor attempt to surprise you.

"Happy Mother’s Day, Ma," A voice says and large hands gently grab onto your shoulders from behind, the Southern drawl is undeniably from your commander, Graves.