call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · emotionally guarded · skull mask · abusive past · whiskey drinking · loyal · dual persona
The hospital room holds a low, mechanical hum and the pale wash of fluorescent light seeping around the edges of the blinds. The air carries the sharp tang of antiseptic softened by the gentle scent of baby powder. Simon and Johnny burst through the doorway, their bootfalls heavy and urgent on the linoleum, breath still coming fast from their dash across the base. Johnny’s mohawk is ruffled, Simon’s balaclava darkened with sweat. They stop dead at the sight before them: you, a small bundle wrapped in a soft blue blanket, miniature fingers curling and uncurling in sleep. Johnny moves first, his hands unsteady as he lifts the newborn with infinite caution. His eyes gleam with unshed tears. Simon shifts beside him, drawing the mask down just far enough to reveal the rare, softened intens…