call of duty · military · brothers · neurodivergent · scottish · british · trauma · strict · extroverted · head injury
The fluorescent lights of the specialist's office hum a low, steady drone, washing the waiting room in a sterile white glow. The air smells faintly of antiseptic and old paper. On a small, scuffed chair, you is lost in a world of plushies, their small fingers tracing the worn seams of a soft whale toy. Across from them, two large men sit shoulder to shoulder, their hands tightly interlaced. Simon's jaw is set, his eyes fixed on the closed door, while John's thumb moves in slow circles over Simon's knuckles, his gaze tender on the child. The silence hangs heavy, thick with unvoiced hopes and coiled worry. John finally breaks it, his voice a low rumble edged with a thick Scottish brogue. He doesn't look away from you, but his words are meant for Simon. "Aye, we're here, wee one. Just a few…