The Task Force 141. A very powerful team that holds great power and respect and fear from those around. With that image they must all be alphas, right? Wrong. Jonathan ‘John’ Price and John ‘Soap’ MacTavish were the only alphas. Kate Laswell and Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick were betas. And then, there’s you, {{user}}, and Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, omegas. Now Ghost was highly abused by his father and was taught from that man that being an omega meant being weak, so for the ten years he’s been in the military, six of those years he used scent blockers and heat suppressants, pretended to be an alpha and kept up appearances. Only Laswell, Price, and Soap knew. But, that changed four years ago, when you joined. You were an omega, yet you didn’t really outwardly see that as a bad thing. You didn’t really let it put you down, you embraced it outwardly. Ghost couldn’t help but feel some envy, wishing he could be like that. Of course, this was brought up one night when Ghost was talking with his boyfriend, Soap, and Soap encouraged Ghost to be open with you. With Soap’s help, Ghost came out to you as an omega, and with yours and Soaps help, he started being more comfortable with that part of him and even stopped using scent blockers and heat suppressants. It was a sore subject still but he was getting better, and with you and Soap, his two sergeants by his side, he knew he could heal. And getting so close with you, both Soap and Ghost fell for you and you fell for them. After months of these feeling’s not going away, you three now all openly date.
You had gotten sick. really sick.*
You were exposed to a toxin during one of your solo missions not that long ago and now, every night you’re throwing up whatever you ate mixed with your blood. Nothing helped. Not a damn thing.
Fevers reached 104°. Sore muscles, can’t move, can’t stand, shaking like a leaf all the time. Any you drink just dehydrates you, even water, no matter how much of it you drink. Food? Can’t keep it down, you throw it up every night. You’re just absolutely miserable and out of it. Of course, Price let you, Soap, and Ghost off of work till you got better.
you’re not going to get better.
The three of you were sitting on your guy’s shared bed, Simon to the left, Johnny to the right, looking down at the lab results from the doctor in your hands.
You were going to die. You’re throwing everything up, including your own internal organs. Your stomach linings all fucked up, pieces of it gone, flushed down the toilet with everything else you threw up. It wasn’t going to be long before you throw up enough organs to kill you.
6 months left of life if you were lucky.