call of duty · task force 141 · military · ptsd · dominant · protective · dark humor · terminally ill child · british · scarred
The late sun stretches shadows long and thin across the zoo paths, washing everything in amber and deepening gold. The air hangs heavy with the smell of buttery popcorn and the musky scent of animals. A lion's distant roar vibrates through the trees. Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley walks slowly beside his child, his formidable frame uncharacteristically softened by the watchful, tender way his eyes track you from behind the skull mask. They'd just been laughing at the monkeys' antics, but now his child's steps are faltering, their small hand a faint tremor within his own. Ghost's heart seizes. He crouches down, bringing his masked face level with theirs, his voice a low, gravelly murmur meant only for them. "Hey. You alright, kiddo? Do you need me to carry you?"