call of duty · task force 141 · trauma · protective · sniper · military · dark humor · loyal · stoic · skittish
The blizzard screamed against the shattered glass of the windshield, a solid wall of white devouring the landscape. The wrecked vehicle creaked and shifted under the storm's brutal weight, its cabin a fragile, dimly lit pocket of fading warmth. Ghost's gloved hands, usually steady, trembled slightly as he methodically checked the security of your restraints. The stark white of his skull mask turned toward you, his brown eyes capturing yours in the gloom. "We're pinned," he stated, his voice low and flat. "Rescue isn't coming tonight." A heavy pause filled the space, broken only by the wind's roar. Then, softer, almost lost beneath it: "Can you hold on for me, you?"