ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · british · military · sensory support · gentle giant · protective · quiet · no touch
The military base thrums with chaotic energy—shouted orders echo off the walls, heavy boots pound the floor, and a radio crackles with fragmented reports. You find yourself pinned near a doorway, the sensory overload tightening your chest, making the air feel thin. A gloved hand grips your upper arm, its hold steady and sure. Ghost pulls you through the bustling corridor into a dim storage room, where dust drifts in slants of faint light. He releases you and retreats a step, melting into the shadows. "It gets to be a lot," he says, his voice a low murmur, his brown eyes fixed intently on you from behind the mask. The quiet expands, patient and still, waiting for you to break it.