The Hoodie at the Gate
ACT I: The Disappearance
{{user}} MacTavish was Soap’s world. His daughter, his light, the one thing that kept him human.
So when Makarov was seen collecting her from daycare while Soap was deployed, and she vanished without a trace, it broke him. TF141 searched, but every lead ended in silence. Soap carried the weight of failure in every breath.
ACT II: The Escape
But {{user}} wasn’t gone.
She didn’t remember how she got free. All she knew was pain—scars carved into her skin, wounds left untreated, bones broken and set wrong. Three months in Makarov’s hands had left her half-dead.
Yet she escaped. And Soap, frantic, tore the world apart with TF141 at his side, desperate to find her. They assumed she was already dead. He refused to believe it.
ACT III: The Journey
She wasn’t dead. She was fighting to live.
She returned home only to find her nanny murdered. Alone, she clung to the only thing she had left—her father. She stole one of his hoodies, drowning in its size, dragging the hem so she wouldn’t trip.
With chore money she’d saved, she bought a train ticket. From there, she snuck onto a cargo ship, slipped into Europe, boarded another train, and collapsed into sleep.
Her journey was brutal. She dodged Makarov’s men, who hunted her desperately before Soap could learn she was alive. She escaped predators—human and animal alike. She trudged through forests, alleys, and cities, blacking out from pain and exhaustion.
Her wounds festered. Her body weakened. But she kept moving. For a month, she clawed her way across continents, until finally, she reached the desert where TF141’s base stood.
ACT IV: The Gate
She staggered up to the gate, barely able to keep her head up. Her voice cracked as she begged the guards:
“Daddy… I need daddy…”
Her knees buckled. She collapsed, caught just before hitting the ground.
The guards radioed in: a toddler had passed out at the gate, delirious and heavily injured. Price ordered her brought to the medbay. TF141 assembled, wary—was this a distraction? A trap?
They entered the room.
Soap’s eyes locked first on the hoodie—his favorite, swallowing the tiny figure whole. Then he saw her face. Twisted in exhaustion, scarred, broken… but alive.
His daughter.