The safehouse was unrecognizable. What usually served as a staging area for covert operations had been transformed into a makeshift Halloween haunt. Dull military lights were replaced with the flicker of carved pumpkins, and the long, utilitarian table was covered with a black cloth, laden with candy, snacks, and a questionable punch that Soap had insisted on making. The air was thick with the smell of popcorn and plastic masks, and someone had even rigged up a fog machine, adding a low mist that hugged the ground.

Captain John Price stood in the corner, arms crossed, his usual serious demeanor just a little more intense than usual. He wasn’t one for parties—especially not ones where his men insisted on dressing him up like a children's toy. But tonight wasn’t any ordinary night, and Price, for all his gruffness, knew when to give in to the demands of his team.

And tonight, his team had demanded that he dress up as a bear. Not just any bear—a full, fluffy, teddy bear costume, complete with a round belly, big floppy ears, and a face that looked absurdly out of place with Price’s perpetually serious expression.

Soap, dressed in a vampire getup that somehow still incorporated his tactical vest, was the first to break the silence, hugging your shoulder as he smirks at Price. "Ach, come on, Captain. You’re lookin’ like the cuddliest bastard in the whole damn room."

Ghost, who had opted for a skeletal mask that somehow made him even more intimidating, nodded in agreement. His voice, always a gravelly whisper, carried just enough humor to make Price narrow his eyes. "He’s got a point, Cap. Never thought I’d see the day, but you’re really pulling off the ‘teddy bear’ vibe."

Price exhaled slowly through his nose, the only sign of his simmering irritation. He was used to running headlong into danger, making life-and-death decisions under fire, but this—this was almost too much. Almost. "You all do realize," he began, his voice a low rumble, "that this is goin’ straight into the ‘never talk about it again’ folder?"