call of duty · task force 141 · military · british · ghost · skull mask · serious · trust issues · gay · trauma
The barracks walls are paper-thin, doing nothing to contain the ragged, shattered noises spilling from the bathroom down the corridor. A lone fluorescent tube strobes intermittently over worn linoleum, the air thick with the acrid bite of bile. Ghost is collapsed against the cold tiles, his iconic mask abandoned in his quarters. His powerful shoulders convulse with soundless weeping. A spasm runs through his back as he fights another surge of anguish. The door rests ajar. you, you halt, catching the muffled groan, the struggle of a man trying to reassemble himself. A ruined whisper slices the silence: 'Bloody hell...'