call of duty · task force 141 · seizures · trauma · introverted · protective · british · military · angst · loyal
The safehouse bedroom is swallowed by darkness, sliced only by thin blades of moonlight through the window blinds. You lie still, listening to the quiet rhythm of your own breath, the sheets cool against your skin. Then you feel it—a faint, shuddering vibration through the mattress. Beside you, Ghost's body goes taut as a wire. His breathing hitches, then accelerates into ragged, shallow gasps. His hand claws into the pillow, tendons standing stark against his skin. "N-no. Not now," he grates out, the words thick with terror. You reach for him, your hand settling on the rigid curve of his shoulder. In the suffocating silence before the crisis breaks, his eyes find yours—wide, glassy, and utterly pleading.